A/N: Hi everybody, my name is AreiaCananaid and this is my first Fire Emblem fic! So, I was in a bit of a dark mood and I was suddenly inspired by sad dramatic music (Creation and Transcendence by Adiomachine, if you want to check it out :) and the support conversation between Owain and his father. This style is a bit new for me, but as I wrote this was just how it turned out. I found it amazingly touching when I found out what Owain really meant when he goes on about having the blood of heroes inside him. I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading!
A/N 2: I have redone this story in order to fix the flow and a few grammar mistakes that I noticed. I also would like to make a note that this tale, though I did try very hard to make it as accurate as possible, does not stringently follow canon. As it happened, I wrote this before I totally finished the game or looked on the Fire Emblem website and did not know that Owain's father died before his mother. This is just a poetic short that deals mainly with emotion so I hope that small detail does not bother you. If it does, then just consider this story to take place in one of the many parallel worlds that exist through the dimensions of the Ourtrelms XP
Summary: Dramatic, poetic, and rather garrulous, would all be words to describe Owain, but beneath his flourishing words and equally flourishing façade lies a person who is much more than his seems, and even his proud claim that, the blood of heroes runs in his veins has a much deeper, sensitive meaning than an idle arrogant boast. (one-shot)
"How could a world be so unforgiving, so cold, with not a ray of light nor touch of warmth? Even the light from the few glittering stars shone with ice. They were gone, and I was alone."
Disclaimer- Obviously, I do not own Fire Emblem and its characters.
The Blood of Heroes
I clutched the haft of a broken cleric's staff in my hands. It was hard to believe that this cold fragment of lifeless steel was all that I had left of her.
"Run, Owain!" My father's voice shattered the frozen revelry of my body and my mind.
I turned towards him; the helpless tears streaming down my face were mirrored by his own.
"We have to get out of here," he whispered.
"Mother, I can't… I can't leave her."
She had stood there, her size dwarfed by that of the fiend she faced. It was the embodiment of all the blackness and suffering of the world, but still she stood against it, tall, proud, and defiant.
"Go!" she shot me one last look, her normally optimistic eyes brimming with tears, but on her lips curled a smile, a smile of loss, of acceptance, of pride. "I love you, always remember…" she turned, her weapon, her ever present staff, upraised in a challenge, her lips open in a cry of defiance, her blond hair steaming behind her, her gentle countenance changed by her courage. There was no way we could get there in time to help her, There was nothing we could do. She had known that, and had used that knowledge to help us get away.
"Don't let her sacrifice be in vain, she gave us a chance, we cannot waist it. We cannot sully her last dearly paid for gift; we must run," My father's voice, always so confident and assured, cracked with a sob. He took my hand and we ran.
"For all the people of this world, for Ylisse, for the Shepherds, for my family, Chrom, and for the person you once were," she screamed at the fell dragon. Her cry of defiance was ended by the booming chill of inhuman laughter, and the rending claws as large as trees.
I clenched the broken staff haft and ran. We raced through the trees, the burning trees, with not even the light of the moon to light our darkened path.
"I love you…" those words used to feel so warm, why did they now freeze my very soul?
There was not far left to go before we reached safety but, even as that thought filled my mind, I saw that our path was barred.
Running, forever running and fighting through the shadow s of this world, was there ever really any hope of banishing the evil from this land that we loved?
We fought back to back, our swords flashing in the light of the dying fires all around that, despite their numbers, barely brightened the night with their eerie light, so like that of the fabled lanterns of a wisp. Together we slew the soldiers of the void that, by all rights, should never have existed.
"As a knight it is your duty to protect those weaker than yourself, to fight despite the odds to save the land and the people you love."
Together we fought through the insurmountable press swarming around us. I dodged and axe swipe by leaping to the side and realized my father was no longer at my back. I fought on and soon cut down the last one and lowered my guard.
I never saw it coming. Why couldn't I have seen it coming?
I heard my father scream my name. I turned to see one of the undead monsters bearing down upon me. I knew I was going to die. I knew that the sight of the mocking, glowing, red dead orbs and ruined face of the Risen, I had spent a lifetime fighting, would be the last sight that my eyes would ever see. The gruesome creature, let fly his arrow. The blow, however, never hit me. Suddenly, my father stood before me, shielding my life with his own as he mounted his own counter attack.
Both he and the monster tumbled to the ground, forever locked in each other's death's embrace. He half-way lifted his clenched left hand as he stared up at me, mouthing a word he no longer had strength to say. Written in my father's eyes, flashed the tale of all that we ever were; our story, the memories we shared, everything he never said but wished he could have, shadowed by a love blanketed by regret, before the spark of warmth and light vanished forever.
A scream was frozen on my lips as I took him in my arms. There was nothing I could do to save him. His left hand, now limp, fell to his side uncurled to reveal something he had been clutching. It was an object I recognized easily for I had seen it every day on my mother's hand, the ring my father had given her when they became engaged. The bright delicate band of gold fell from his once strong grasp to land on the ash cover ground, its brightness suddenly dulling in my eyes. I could not bring myself to take the last gift he had tried to offer, the last thing he had ever touched, that small symbol of the love that they had for each other and for me. Tears streamed down my face as I pulled him closer to my chest.
Alone, empty—what I loved most was gone. A cold blackness grew in my heart, a fathomless void of emptiness spreading so wide it could never be filled, blacker than the burnt world of dying embers and darkening skies that dwarfed me in their malice. There was nothing but loss—empty and alone.
"Father!" I screamed, the words tearing past the lump in my throat as I tried to breathe. "Please… I can't… I can't live without you, I need you."
I could see more Risen closing the distance between themselves and me through my tear veiled eyes. This was my fault; they had both died for me. My heart felt as if it were being rent in two.
How could a world be so unforgiving, so cold, with not a ray of light nor touch of warmth? Even the light from the few glittering stars shone with ice. They were gone, and I was alone.
A sob racked my body. I did not think I could live without them, "Wait for me, wherever you are," I whispered as I hugged his body to my own. "S-someday… someday, somehow, I will find you again… I promise."
Everything I knew was lost, vanished like the breath of air that blows out the candle's flame. There was nothing… nothing save for a soft persistent whispering in my heart that slowly grew into an understanding as bright as immeasurable and as sad as the light from the setting sun—nothing is truly ever lost as long as you remember…
My eyes shot up to meet the gaze of the approaching enemy.
In my heart lives the memory and with that memory, they would forever be with me. As long as I lived so would they. They had given all they had for me and I was proud.
I clenched my teeth and began to rise.
As long as I lived, so would the memory of what they stood for, the dream for which they died. The love which they had burned with, for our family and our people, shone through me. I swore I would live to see this world free.
The Risen that had surrounded me began to close in. With a soft kiss on the forehead, I lay my father gently aside, but I did not say goodbye.
I can feel them inside my very soul, their passion, love, bravery, and honor, courses through my veins. Their memory burns in my heart. I will never forget and I know I will never be alone.
I took my sword in hand. My fingers closed around the familiar grip. There were people who still needed to be protected, a world that needed defending and their heroes lived within me.
My name is Owain and the blood of heroes runs through my veins! This war that started with them would end with me!
I charged forward, my sword arm thrusting for justice and freedom, wielding a power I could hardly control.
I am the scion of two noble heroes, the heroes forever impressed within my heart. I will never let their memory die.
Thank you so very much for taking the time to read! Feedback is greatly appreciated, and constructive criticism is welcomed. As I said before, this style was a bit new for me so I would be interested in hearing your thoughts. I was trying to go for pathos instead of bathos and I hope I got it right.
Question: Out of curiosity, which of the future children's tales did you find the most touching?