A Whisper of Dark
Fire Emblem Contest
Theme #001: Rumors/Gossip
...x0x...
He usually sat apart from the others, the people who had lived, and breathed, and bled together. They were a mere few days from the gate, and despite their limited supplies and rations, they had graciously accepted him into their ranks. In thanks, he worked with their healers, used his mean skills to mend shattered bones and restore overextended muscles.
'Excellency', they called him, 'Miracle-Worker', the man who aided and cured pains they thought magic could not heal. To these names, he wore smiles that were sad. When pressed, he said he felt he was undeserving but would not deny them something so small as a name if it brought them such joy to give it. He listened to their stories and offered them what he could, but would accept nothing in return. His own tale was bound within its spine by lock and chain and he gently but firmly refused them all the key, a key, he could not tell them, not even he could touch.
They welcomed him on the field of battle, in awe of his precision and talent that was no meaner than his skills of healing. And where and when he might falter, another would be there to help--he had been welcomed into their family, even in such short time.
With calm indifference, he battled golden-eyed creatures that remained faceless to him but drove many of the others to rage, recklessness, and tears. He saw an end to an old partner, closure to time that brought him pain. With their help, he accomplished what he had hoped for but never achieved.
In the wake of the others' happiness over success and a long journey finally ended, he left without a word, a whisper of breeze in the night.
Who was this man?
The man the anguished knightess called mentor.
The man the spirited fighter called warrior.
The man the ebullient knight called friend.
The man the gentle priest called listener.
The man the curious shaman called enigma.
They asked one another with conjectures high enough to touch the stars.
He was sent by Saint Elimine, a bishop of her cloth to guard us till the end of our trials!
Nay, he must have been one of the Eight Legends himself! Overseeing us before Lord Athos made his return.
Folly! His must have been the spirit of someone wronged by Nergal, come to exact due from a morph that bore his face. Vindicated, he has now passed on in peace.
Nay! He must have been a dragon, not unlike Ninian and Nils who have passed from us and returned to the other side.
Ultimately, the man was as mystery to them as he was to himself. And so he, the wandering bishop, left behind him a wake of queries and speculations, ones he hoped would cover the trails of blood.