Mkay, let me give a bit of a backstory. I was in a writing contest with some friends, and the prompt was (supposed to be) "blood". I say "supposed to be" because it ended up being something different, and I ended up with this story on my hands. So I thought, "Why not actually take advantage of my FanFiction account for once?" and here we are.
Blood. Being a priest amid a war, Wrys was accustomed to seeing it, spilling it, and being arm-deep in it. Of course, he far from enjoyed having to fix gashes the size of a tome when Draug's armor didn't quite protect his joints, or putting the bones back together in Norne's hand so she could fire a bow again, but he wanted the others to live as much as he wanted the war to end.
Wrys sat down, duties for the day finally over. He healed those wounded in the battle today, and healed the Macedonian villagers that were caught up in the fighting. Just that day, Michalis was slain by his middle sister, which was a bad situation for the entire Macedon royal family. Hmm, maybe I should see Maria, give her a shoulder to cry on. Wrys thought, getting up and walking to Maria's room. Wrys loved children, and it hurt to see the results of kin fighting.
Earlier...
Minerva clutched Hauteclare, her sister's naive words rebounding in Minerva's head as she rode into battle atop her wynern.
"You will try to save Michalis, right? Now that you've saved me, there's nothing stopping him from joining us!"
Minerva knew, in her heart of hearts, that Michalis would not change his mind. He was the one, after all, that volunteered Maria to be locked up in Castle Deil, as a method to make Minerva less rebellious.
"Minerva will follow your orders once it's not her blood being shed."
And, damn it, he was right. Once Minerva knew her little sister would be "punished" for every disobeyed order, she did everything she was told to, no more, no less. Every time Hauteclare was turned upon its country's blood, she felt Iote look down upon her, his frown growing ever larger.
But that was at an end.
Marth's orders were clear and consise. "You can fly, so fly over the battle as much as you can and take out the commander. Norne, Gordin, and Jeorge will take out archers with their bows pointed at you, but we should have most of the army's attention." Marth knew full well who the Macedon commander for this battle was, and knew just as well the words Maria had said. He also knew of Michalis's tactical ability, and that for every second the battle lasted against Macedon's elite soldiers, the chances that the League would fall grew larger and larger. Although it pained Marth to ask Minerva to fight her brother, he had to do it.
Which is the way Minerva wanted it. It was time for her to save Macedon from Dolhr's tyranny, and it was time Hauteclare was used to fell "The second coming of Iote".
"You will try to save Michalis, right? Now that you've saved me, there's nothing stopping him from joining us!"
Even if her own blood hated her.