"Ike, look out!" Titania yelled in complete horror to her young, faithful general. The scarlet laguz dragon crept up behind the commander's turned back with powerful, pounding steps, ones that could be heard for miles. But somehow, the overzealous leader could not hear its approach; Ike suddenly registered and heeded Titania's caveat, lending a slow glance over his shoulder to the terrifyingly menacing beast as it raised its head and took in a tremendous breath of air.
Ragnell vibrated in his soul; the sword he held in his callous hands glowed with an ethereal blue, igniting Aether's mighty force. He felt the rush of power graze his heart like Alondite had brushed his neck only two days before. The discourse of glazed divinity paddled beside his broken ship, torn and beaten by the journey's stormy waters, by famished spirit and sleepless mind. But he held it in the palm of his hand like no other; he conquered its ferocity and grappled its broken pieces of tumultuous wind in the solid blade of truth.
Ike felt his body gain the strength of the goddess herself as the power whisked through his blood-red veins. In an instant his feet took flight and he ran the blessed sword in a slash through the length of the dragon's body, the essence of its life sparkling in the midday sun. Ike felt his health renewed the moment his weapon struck the thick skin of the ferocious laguz; Sol had completed its task. Now Luna, with its magnificent, unmatched power, delivered the final blow of redemption as the dragon spewed forth its voluminous heat upon its enemy. But Ragnell was too quick for fire. The glowing blade punctured the everlasting life of the sacred Goldoan dragon, piercing its bloody heart.
Ike pulled his weapon from the possessed beast and it came forth clean, as if it had never been touched. The young general swept out of the path of the dead, falling laguz as it landed with an unnerving thump upon the hard, granite ground of the royal garden. Soren's form was revealed from behind Ike's previous position; the tactician stood dumbfounded in the beast's wake, paralyzed in astonishment.
Ike stood atop the conquered dragon, looking to the battalion of enemies ahead. Paladins and Warriors, Swordmasters and Snipers alike stood waiting patiently for their arrival. But Ike's attention was diverted from his newest quarry by a desperate cry of pain. It resounded through the statuesque figurines on the invisible chess board, placed strategically in the game of evil's contemplation.
"Oscar!" The general screamed as he watched one of his dearest friends fall from his gorgeous white stallion, decorated with the now scorched taffeta of Crimean favor. Another red dragon loomed over him, exhaling a breath of hot air onto Oscar's singed metal armor.
"Oscar!!" Ike screamed again, not fully conscious of the events that were about to unfold. He wished desperately to rush to his aid, but his feet were held to the ground by some unknown force; a force that was larger than even that of his goddess' strength. His childhood memories of the lance knight flashed before his eyes; the kind, squinted expression of Oscar's gentle face seemed to sear the skin of his memory more than a dragon's fire ever could. The enigmatic creature inhaled slowly and despondently. Ike could not help thinking how his motley tribe of ragged mercenaries had bridged the gap between laguz and beorc. But evil surrounded these laguz, whispering into their ears the heartless fiat to kill the bearer of the sword of salvation. Oscar held his lance valiantly as he gazed in horror at the flaming ball of fire shooting towards his body.
"Oscar!!!" Ike screeched, his body shaking convulsively with grief. His blue eyes did not even notice the other paladin who galloped to the dragon's side, steadying an arrow in a hand-crafted bow. Geoffrey let his weapon loose upon the beast's neck, and the dragon quivered with malign as the force of the blow reached its nerves. Haar swept past the green and blue-cloaked paladin upon his swift, gorgeous wyvern, his black eye patch reflecting the sun's tainted rays. He showered the laguz with lethal blows from his mighty axe, raining blood from the air as he struck four times for gallantry. The mauled creature fell lifeless onto its side; Oscar's torched spirit bathed in the crimson liquid of evil's demise.
Elincia, the Princess of Crimea, flew to the knight's side on her majestic Pegasus, using her gentle hand to take off his helmet and touch his scarred face. But alas! Oscar shivered with pain; his body breathed life!
"Ike! He's alive! Ike!" Elincia cried with all the voice she could muster. She quickly poured a green drought over the Paladin's lips, which seemed to empower his heartbeat. Ike's heart leapt for joy as he cried to the back lines of his army.
"Rhys, he's alive! Hurry, please!" The feeble but skilled healer raised his staff above his head, the Physic spell igniting the white globe upon the wood's top. It glittered with pure light and waves of visible sunshine gathered their energies, whisking through the wind to meet the Paladin's crushed soul. A rush of new life enveloped his being, and Oscar rose slowly from his shallow grave with a cough to take his lance into his right hand. He stood with dignity upon the blood-stained ground in sparkling armor and pale skin, just as he had appeared before. The brave knight mounted his steed of white glory and expressed his unfathomable gratitude to his companions.
Ike smiled with relief. Suddenly, he felt the steaming hot breath of another laguz on his foot; he turned around to meet Giffica, the shadow of the king of Gallia. His muscular body, cloaked with sweat, shifted agilely as his deep voice met Ike's ear. "General, keep your eye on your prize. You must be able to see him from there, riding his deformed wyvern?" Ike stretched his regal body to gaze to the elevated ledge where the epitome of evil stood. A stone fence obstructed a clear view, but he could make out the mass of the wyvern's body and Ashnard's ugly blade. His disgust for the menace grew even now, when it seemed it could grow no more.
Marcia the Pegasus knight flew to his side, her red-trilled spear in her right hand. They exchanged smiling glances of confidence; both were thinking the same thoughts. Titania, one of the general's closest protectors, suddenly galloped past his position. Ike looked ahead to a group of knights gathered at the threshold of the exit to the large fountain area, as her steed skidded to a stop in front of one's body. Her great lance struck the soldier in the chest, inflicting a lethal blow and sending him crumbling to the floor. Soren then took action, almost walking on air as he bounded to attack another enemy soldier from several feet away. Ike was forced to shield his eyes from the maelstrom of fierce wind that the skilled sage summoned with his power. It ripped through the still air and tore the armored knight to pieces. All that remained was his metal skin.
Ike was suddenly swept off his feet by a strong hand and whisked onto the back of a white horse.
"Hold on; I'm going for Bryce!" Oscar yelled behind to his newly acquired passenger, drawing his long, silver lance from its binding beside his galloping steed. Ike grappled some of Oscar's long green cape and armor, clutching Ragnell tightly in his right hand. The horse kicked dust between the cracks in General Bryce's armor as it stopped short right in front of him.
"Well, if it isn't Commander Ike himself!" The menacing Rider of Daein chuckled through his mask. "And his little Paladin is giving him a ride to greet our King, no doubt!" Oscar said nothing in reply to the rude comment. Ike could feel the Paladin's muscles tense; he felt energy similar to Aether preparing to rush through the knight's form. Oscar twirled his powerful lance in the air with all the force he could muster, violently thrusting the weapon into the General's chest. The cross-like metal of the lance pulled a large piece of armor off of his body, revealing the flimsy covering underneath. Bryce choked with pain but came alive for a swift jab with Wishblade, his spear, puncturing Oscar's steed in the flank. The horse did not whinny in pain but stood stolidly, as if he had not been hurt at all. Blood crept through his white fur down to his hoof as his rider awakened his ultimate power. Sol ignited his lance's tip with light as it activated; Oscar swung the spear around his head and twirled it in his skillful hands, jabbing once more at the exposed piece of Bryce's chest. The horse's wound healed completely; the stain of blood disappeared.
"Your father, Ike, was a... good knight... a good man." The fallen General whispered as he crumbled to the floor. Ike merely stared at the destroyed figure of authority that lay before him. Suddenly, an eruption of chaos came upon them from the five paladins waiting on the next level. Ike ducked behind Oscar as their arrows flew past his ear, whipping a ferocious wind through his mind's eye. Their black and red capes thrashed in the stagnant air as their weapons struck at Oscar's pride. They hit him four times, eight times; Ike lost count after the third Paladin archer hailed the Commander's return with arrows of fire. The Paladins with lances and swords then came forth, but Sol ripped them apart. Oscar's lance flew through the air like the angel of death upon them as their futile attacks essayed pitiful attempts to wound his steed. As they fell to the ground Ike looked to the platform ahead. Another red Dragon waited to greet them near the top of the stairs.
"We'll take care of him, Ike; you go on ahead!" Marcia shouted as her incredible flying Pegasus thrust gusts of powerful wind in every direction on her way towards the enemy.
"Get to Ashnard!" Soren yelled. Ike could almost see Oscar smile as he urged his horse into a gallop, zigzagging across the granite tile to one of the staircases leading to their quarry. The nimble beast stepped over the fallen corpses Oscar's lance had silenced and toiled up the stairs to meet a new throng of fierce Daein Paladins. Ike could hear the screams of his comrades in the far distance; his hearing was becoming dimmer as the moment neared. They were merely farther than a few meters from his position but his mind was slipping into a trance. This was what happened when he faced the Black Knight; when Alondite hissed past his ears in the tumultuous rage of Luna's wrath. All he could hear was the sigh of his father's dying breath.
Oscar's once blue and silver lance, now completely covered in blood, still waged war against the sea of Paladins. More thronged around them from the highest platform, raining blows from axes, swords and arrows upon the Knight and his steed. Suddenly, they all fell aside. In an instant, Oscar's weapon of wrath struck its last victim, leaving all opposition upon the ground to kneel to the princess, the rightful ruler of Crimea. Ike's mind was warping time; the moment was drawing nearer. It was so near that he could almost taste Ashnard's blood running over his sword.
Oscar helped Ike dismount from his horse, removing his battle helmet to look his beloved Commander in the eye. No words needed to be spoken. Ike could read his dear friend's mind through the bond that they shared with each other. Oscar merely had to nod. Ike bowed his head to his protector, expressing his overflowing gratitude for everything the knight had done. He turned slowly to face the direction in which he would tread, taking a deep breath to calm his senses. He waited, patiently, for his mind to settle before the invisible forces were lifted from his feet and he began his journey up the set of seven stairs leading to Ashnard.
His boots tread softly upon the ground as Ike took slow, deliberate steps to meet his destiny. In the back of his mind he heard his father's screaming voice, urging him to stay back. "Not this time," Ike thought. The consummation of his mission stood only a few feet away; the victory of his revenge waited in the eyes of evil itself, and he was strong enough to win... now. Now he had become a man, leaving all his fears behind at the foot of the thicket where Greil was killed and taking Ragnell from the brittle trunk of wood that the Black Knight left behind. Here Ashnard's perfect plan would die; here his father would truly be avenged. Valiance ignited his exuberant, vivacious spirit, entwining his fulfilled soul with his blade. Ike could barely sense the beating of his own heart as he came face to face with the sinister glare of the devil's eyes. His hearing faded into non-existence. The moment had come.
