A Der Langrisser fanfic – Children of Light
Written by Spiritblade
Disclaimer: Der Langrisser does not belong to me, but to Masna. Everyone knows that the normal pairing in the game is between the main character (Erwin) and Liana. But I wanted to take that pairing a step further as, after having played the game, I realized just how much Cherie, Princess of Kalxath, loved him (particularly noted in the Empire and Independent paths). And so, this story was born.
This story focuses on an alternative ending of the Light Path, and is set years after the game. Let us begin. Let me silence this ghost who wants a voice. This story was posted after three drafts, and several days of hard work. So, please review and tell me if this work of mine is up to standard. I could do with a second and third opinion, even as I do the editing. Thanks.
There are some mature themes in this story, so readers be forewarned. And, if you choose to proceed, tell me if I got the mixture and feeling right. I need practice in that area…
(O)
Castle Kalxath, capital of the Kingdom of Kalxath
Sunset had always been Cherie's favorite time of the day. The way the sun descended behind the mountains, outlining its majestic, snow-capped silhouettes in shades of crimson and gold followed by that brief, addictive moment when day became night had never failed to steal her breath away. But, here, illuminating the castle gardens, it brought the Dragon Princess of Kalxath back to the years when she had been a little girl, frolicking and playing with the sons and daughters of the nobles of her father's court. It made her remember the time when Cherie's mother, the beautiful Queen Althea, had sat her rambunctious daughter down on her lap and told her daughter stories of heroes and kingdoms long-gone. She laughed, remembering the look of despair on her mother's face when the latter realized just how badly her scheme had backfired: her daughter had no wish to be the princess who would be saved or protected by the handsome and courageous prince. Oh no, she would go charging out on dragon-back to save the prince instead! Cherie's father, King Astellan, had exploded in laughter when his wife complained to him in private that it would be next to impossible to find a man capable of winning – let alone holding – their daughter's fiery heart.
It was no secret that even at her young age, Cherie's headstrong and rebellious nature had given her parents and the soldiers of the castle garrison nightmares, as her penchant for disappearing from the castle was well-known. El Sallia had been, during the princess's childhood days, a dangerous, war-torn land where even village girls were taught how to use weapons. Every town had a garrison and every village had a standing militia. Raids by barbarian tribes, bandits and monsters of the Demon Tribe were commonplace. Cherie could remember some of the derisive comments that had been aired by the daughters of some of Kalxath's nobles about their peers who had elected to take up sword, bow and sorcery in order to defend their homeland instead of concentrating on pursuits that would, in the long-term, improve their chances of securing a mate that would ensure the prosperity of their respective Houses.
But, Cherie was not the daughter of a noble. She was the daughter of a king. The first could get away with doing things that the second could not. As heir to the throne of a country that had witnessed the fall of the Kingdom of Baldea over a century ago, and the disintegration of the countries it had brought into its hegemony, the silver-haired princess was keenly aware that a bad decision on her part could very well spell the end of her country. It was this pragmatic mindset that had left her parents proud; they were confident that their daughter would be able to shoulder the responsibilities that came with ruling a country when the time came.
And that time came sooner than Cherie would have wanted. Two years prior to the Holy Sword War, the Empire of Reyguard attempted to bring Kalxath, the largest and most powerful kingdoms in the north, into its hegemony. Many of the countries south of Kalxath's borders had already sworn fealty to Reyguard's Kaiser, and merged their armies with Reyguard's. Had Kalxath joined the Empire, there was no doubt in Cherie's mind that the continent would have fallen to the Empire in under a year. With Langrisser and Alhazard in the hands of the Kaiser's champions, the Empire would have been all but invincible.
But, Kalxath refused, and Reyguard sent its Legions to bring to heel the one foe that could thwart its ambitions before it could see it done. Her father had taken to the field with all Ten Legions of Kalxath. Cherie remembered the field outside Castle Kalxath where the soldiers of those Legions had assembled, their weapons and armor gleaming in the sunlight and their battle-banners fluttering proudly in the wind. She remembered her father raising one arm in farewell to his wife and daughter before riding to the head of the column. Despite being outnumbered by the armies of Reyguard, King Astellan of Kalxath won a victory that spurred nations on the verge of kneeling before the Empire to defiance. But it was one won at great cost: of the twelve thousand soldiers he had led into the field, only four thousand returned. Seven of the Ten Generals had been slain, and the command echelons of Kalxath's military had been devastated, forcing Cherie and her sub-commanders to hastily reform what was left of Kalxath's Legions before the Empire mounted a second assault. Thankfully, the Empire turned its attention elsewhere, allowing Kalxath the time it needed to recover. But, the blackest lining to the storm clouds that had caused Cherie (and her mother) no end of grief had been the knowledge that her father had fallen in battle. In his attempt to defeat the Reyguard army by killing its general, he had been forced to cross swords with the leader of the Empire's infamous Assassin Corps, the Silent Angel himself.
Kyra Decius, the regal female commander of the Dragon Guard, knew the Silent Angel from the time they had been children, and had told Cherie that he was not a man to be taken lightly. His skills with the sword were formidable, to say the least, and the horrific injuries she had seen on her father's body attested to that. When her father fell, the morale of the exhausted soldiers of Kalxath came close to cracking. Had Keith not rallied the soldiers and cut the heart out of the Imperial army, there was no doubt in Cherie's mind that the Empire's armies would have carried the day and that Kalxath would be a vassal of the Empire.
Cherie strode over to one of the castle garden's many pavilions and sat down on one of its stone benches. It had been painful to watch her father die from the wounds inflicted by the Silent Angel's enchanted weapons. Flesh and bone had been rent by a blade that countered any and all healing spells and salves the kingdom's best physicians brought to bear on their dying king. Her father had laughed in the face of death and pain, telling his daughter that his arrogance had been his downfall. He would never have thought that the lightly-armored, robed soldier that stood in his way was none other than the leader of Kaiser Bernhardt's Death Angels. Kyra had told him the identity of his killer, and the female Dragon Knight had sworn that she would settle accounts with her treacherous friend before the war with Reyguard was over. Kyra, Cherie knew, had done just that – but it had broken the woman in ways that death and defeat could not. Liana, who had witnessed that terrible duel, said that the Kyra's childhood friend had died smiling, talking about how blue the skies over Kalxath had been, how beautiful the distant mountains in the distance were, and of possible futures that would never be.
And though Cherie had seen it far too many times beyond counting, the tragedy of the Holy Sword War had been that it pit the finest champions of an age against one another for the sake of a dream that could only be won only at the defeat of heroes who were worthy of the name. She remembered how she and her father spoke from dusk till dawn, sharing old stories, hopes and dreams without the barrier of him being her father and she being his daughter separating them. She remembered her father asking her if there would ever be a man who could win her heart, and if the war that had wracked the continent since the fall of Baldea would ever come to an end.
'And it has, father,' Cherie thought, turning her eyes skyward, 'You were right. There was a man out there whose heart Iwanted to win.'
She closed her azure eyes, remembering the first time she had met Erwin. It had been at the shrine-fortress of Estool, when it had come under attack by Imperial forces who had wanted to abduct Liana for reasons unknown to her companions – or to Cherie – at that point in time. The attack had caught the shrine's guardians off-guard; they had never expected the Empire's soldiers to dare set foot within holy ground with hostile intent. Though the Imperial army had been small, numbering less than a thousand, they had been the finest General Vargas of the Blazing Dragon Army could send. Erwin barely had any time to organize the shrine's defenses before the Imperial forces managed to take up positions to storm its interiors. Cherie had swooped into Estool with four companies of her Sky Legion, half-expecting it to have fallen to the Empire. She did a double-take when she saw the Imperial army being beaten back. Standing there, amidst the flames and the destruction, like a glorious angel, had been Erwin, one hand raised to her in salute – and in that brief moment, she saw her father again.
But, as time went by, Cherie saw that the man she would later choose to become Kalxath's next king was nothing like her father. While just as reckless and brave, Erwin possessed the one thing that made him stand apart from the man who sired her: he not only understood why he was fighting, he understood why his enemies were fighting. The dream Kaiser Bernhardt and his Four Heavenly Dragons reached for was no different from those the Descendants of Light. The followers of Chaos wanted a place in a world that loathed them. How could they, the Descendants of Light, end the strife that had wracked the world for countless decades if they continued to commit the same mistakes their ancestors have made?
Unbidden, the memory of the final days of the Holy Sword War rose up in Cherie's mind. The battle at Castle Velzeria, where the remnants of the Reyguard Empire and those of the Demon Tribe who had sworn fealty to the Kaiser had made their last stand, had been one of the most brutal battles in the entire Holy Sword War. It had taken the armies of the Descendants of Light hours of hard fighting before they could penetrate Velzeria's inner sanctum where the Kaiser and his Royal Guards waited stoically for the end. Cherie and her soldiers had been the first to reach the Emperor of Reyguard ahead of the rest, never realizing that it was a trap meant to draw her in until it was too late. The last of the Reyguard Emperor's Death Angel assassin corps cut Cherie's bodyguard down before any of them had a chance to defend themselves. But, to her surprise, Bernhardt did not order her death. Instead, the Kaiser ordered his Royal Guard to form a defensive line outside the throne room – and to give both him and the Princess of Kalxath privacy amidst the final hours of the Empire.
He had wanted to talk to the daughter of the man who had refused his offer to be part of a hegemony that would have brought peace to a continent ruined by decades of war and the ambitions of men and women who sought power for its own sake. He had wanted to drive home the point that the Descendants of Light could not end the wars and feuds that wracked El-Sallia by ideals alone – and that Erwin understood that better than she. Bernhardt knew of Erwin's past as a wandering mercenary, and knew that the younger man was sick unto death of the devastation and atrocities he had seen committed on and off the field of battle.
"Your man also knows that there are men and women to whom the promise of peace and prosperity mean nothing. Tell me, then, how you will deal with them, for in any age, these ambitious individuals will always exist. Will you deal with them through diplomacy? Or will you do as I have done?"
Cherie found that she could not answer. Many of the older members in the command echelons in the Descendants of Light – and those younger ones who had seen more of the world than she – had expressed the same sentiments as the Kaiser. Imelda of the Water Dragon Navy, before she cast her bloodied, broken body off the deck of her flagship, had told Cherie that the sheep does not bargain with the wolf, and that the world is a brutal, harsh place where only the strongest prevail. The question the Kaiser had posed the young princess had been one that had kept the latter awake through many nights.
"The fact that you cannot answer tells me that you already know the answer to my question. You already know that ideals – no matter how lofty – can stand before reality's harsh gaze."
That was when an explosion of violence ended the conversation, and Erwin strode in, Langrisser in hand, the weary expression on his young face mirroring that which appeared on Kaiser Bernhardt's own. The latter drew Alhazard out of its scabbard and turned to face the young man responsible for destroying his Empire, and with it, his dream of a unified El-Sallia. There was no need for words between the two men. Each knew that whoever won this duel would inherit the world. Should Erwin fall – and Cherie knew that it would not take the Kaiser much effort to defeat her – Langrisser would fall into the Kaiser's hands. The Emperor of Reyguard would, quite literally, snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
The ensuing duel between Erwin and Reyguard's Kaiser had been one out of the stories her mother had told her when she had been a child. Cut and thrust, parry and counterstrike, the legendary blades cutting through the air with fearsome shrieks, silver and black flames trailing from the runes engraved in the blades, to meet with a thunderous crash that caused the fabric of reality itself to shudder. Cherie had not stood by and watched Erwin fight against one of the mightiest warriors of the age, and had leapt in with sword and sorcery to smite the Kaiser. Cherie had comported herself well; it had taken the Kaiser three of his strongest sword-techniques to lay her low. When she came to, Cherie found herself recuperating in her room in Castle Kalxath, under the watchful eyes of the castle's Chief Physician and Jessica. After dismissing the Chief Physician, the purple-haired, immortal sorceress soon called Keith in, and Kalxath's First General (and Cherie's mentor) proceeded to tell what had happened after she had been knocked unconscious.
Keith and the others had rushed into the throne room to find Kaiser Bernhardt standing triumphant over Erwin's bloodied, broken body; they found the second on the brink of taking Langrisser from Erwin's lifeless hands. But, then, he halted, a smile on an aged, weary face. Rather, he reached for Erwin's second hand, and pushed Alhazard into it, closing the latter's fingers around it.
"'I shall use these blood-stained hands to tear free of the sorrow of war, Kaiser. And, if this war does not pass me by, I shall bear its burden…along with the sorrow of those who have died in it!' That's what he said. A good answer," the Kaiser had laughed, then, but there was neither mockery nor madness in it. No, there had been joy in that laughter, "How I wish Leon had managed to bring Erwin over to my cause. Had that happened, my dream of a unified world would have come to pass. But, there is no point wishing for it anymore, is there? The Empire – my Empire – no longer exists. My Four Heavenly Dragons are dead, and my armies scattered to the four winds. No…I can rest easy. Our sacrifices have not been in vain. Those…who would inherit our dream will build an era worthy of the men and women who have died hoping to see it come."
Even as Bernhardt breathed his last, he did so standing proud and erect. What an end it had been; it was one worthy of a King. Erwin would spend the better part of a month recuperating from his injuries, Keith told her. He was lucky to be alive and luckier that Bernhardt had chosen not to end his life there and then. And after saying those words, Keith became a volcano. The calm demeanor he had in place earlier had been a mask; he wanted nothing more than to throttle his student (and Princess) and beat her within an inch of the ferryman's boat. Cherie had never remembered Keith losing his temper as badly as he had that very moment – and she soon found out the reason why.
She was pregnant with Erwin's child. And she was not the only one, Jessica said. Liana was pregnant with Erwin's child as well. That was when Cherie knew that the cat was out of the bag. She had attempted to throw them off by fainting again, but Keith was having none of it. The First General proceeded to slap Cherie back in consciousness, the fact that the latter was his princess be damned. He wanted answers to the questions he dared not voice aloud. How in all that was holy did it happen? And Cherie, knowing that the only way to defeat Keith at that point in time was to overwhelm him, told the stoic First General how it began. Cherie had no wish to give Erwin up without a fight – not even to her best friend. Erwin had not treated her like a princess; he treated her like a normal girl whose hopes and dreams were cherished things, and as a comrade-in-arms whom he would give his life to protect. And this he did, over and over. They had argued and crossed swords. They had shared meals, drinks and stories around warm campfires. They had laughed and cried together. They had faced hardship and danger as a team. Admiration led to friendship, and from there, to love. And with that realization, came jealousy and envy. It was clear to Cherie that Liana had no intention of surrendering Erwin to anyone else; despite her gentle nature, the Maiden of Light was clearly possessive of the things she considered hers.
Imagine her surprise when Liana pulled her aside and outlined a scheme that would end both their problems. To say Cherie had been shocked was an understatement; to know that the plan came about because of Hein shooting his mouth off made the Dragon Princess wish that she had thrown the perverted mage into Castle Kalxath's moat months ago when they first met. One part of Cherie exploded into righteous indignation: the plan Liana had outlined was so…so immoral! But another part of Cherie – one that yearned for that promised moment with a hunger that defied description – turned to gaze at her and smile. It had no need for words. Should she heed her morals and upbringing, the ending will be as Cherie knew it would be: Erwin would raise a family with Liana, and Cherie would be married to the son of one of Kalxath's noble houses or to the prince of a foreign country. But, should she heed the husky, low voice of that unquenchable desire, she could have even more…
And that was what led to Cherie nodding her assent. The silver-haired princess blushed redder than all the sunsets she had seen for the two decades she had been alive. She remembered the carefully-planned seduction. She remembered the look in Erwin's eyes, and the hesitant touches that led to passionate embraces and kisses. She remembered the first time she, Liana and Erwin made love under the night skies, the stars and moonlight illuminating the lagoon and turning it into a sea of molten silver. She remembered the awed expression on Erwin's face, mingled with love and lust as he gazed upon the two women who had crafted chains of velvet and silk with which to bind him. She remembered the indescribable ecstasy as Erwin took her again and again, filling her womb with his seed. She remembered the utter fulfillment on Liana's face as Erwin took her in turn, the strangled cry of joy that the golden-haired Maiden of Light unleashed akin to a re-born phoenix taking wing from its ashes. It had taken Liana and Cherie considerably effort to hide the affair from everyone else, but it had been worth it.
Cherie laughed aloud. The look on her normally-unflappable mentor was one she had consigned to memory: he looked like a fish out of water. Jessica then proceeded to ask Cherie just how many times she had slept with Erwin, a question that caused the royal broomstick to shoot up Keith's back. Before the stoic First General could turn to face the beautiful, immortal sorceress, Cherie replied. The answer caused Keith to freeze, look at her, and promptly faint, hitting the floor with an almighty crash that brought a dozen Royal Guards rushing into the room to see their respected leader out cold. But, the icing on the cake had been Jessica's simple declaration that she just might want to enter the picture herself. The immortal sorceress wanted a family of her own, and children to hold.
"My duty is over, Cherie. The Goddess no longer needs me – and as such, this is my last incarnation. And I am glad of it. Langrisser and Alhazard are forever sealed; their potency withers with each passing day till they become nothing more than beautiful weapons. In time, the impossible power that they bequeathed upon their wielders shall become myth, and the names of the two swords, legends. The names of those who have fought in the countless Holy Sword Wars I have witnessed through the centuries shall, likewise, fade into the mists of time. But, in return, we have gained something more precious than power to change a world – we have given our children a future."
"Yes, we have, Jessica," Cherie whispered softly, as she stood up, and turned her head to where the quarters of the Royal Family of Kalxath were. There, on the balcony, clad in a simple tunic and trousers, was a well-built man with mane of crimson hair and azure eyes stood. In his strong arms – and around him – were children of varying ages, but all of them less than seven years of age. They clustered around the man with the comfortable familiarity that only children could have when around their parents. The silver-haired Dragon Princess smiled, running a hand over her slender belly. Within seven months, the Royal Family of Kalxath would be graced with a new child; something, she knew, the entire family looked forward to.
"Cherie?" a voice called out, "Are you all right?"
The Dragon Princess turned around to see Liana and Jessica walking towards her, both of them dressed in robes of purple and gold that denoted their royal status. Cherie put a finger to her lips, before beckoning the two women to join her, and pointed at the balcony where Erwin was. From the looks of wonder on their children's young faces, they knew that Erwin had ensorcelled them with stories of distant lands and its people. Yes, Cherie thought.
This was what Kingdoms and Empires were made of. It was not made of wealth, war and ambition alone. It was made of husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, of lovers, dreamers and warriors. It was of dreams made reality, built one brick at a time. It was built on the sacrifices of many. Cherie closed her eyes, remembering what she had asked of Erwin as he laid recovering from the wounds he had received when fighting the Kaiser.
"Show me, Erwin, how our story will end."
"I will do more than that, Cherie. I will bring you – all of you – there. And it will be better than a dream, as it will be as real as our lives have been."
Fin.
(O)
Author's foreword: Somehow, I cannot shake the feeling I have made several horrible blunders and misalignments when I was writing this story - including the fact that I may have signed my own death warrant.
