This is my entry to the 2015 Serenes Forest Scribbles contest.
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There was nothing that the cavalier could do but run. Leaning low over the horse's neck he urged the animal around a copse of trees that would only restrict their movement, barding the same color as the grass below them whipping against the horse's legs with every stride. On foot as they were the enemy could not hope to keep up with the mounted warrior's wild flight. Further and further behind they fell away, till the cavalier felt the tension in his body ease, if only a little. With a tap of his heels and a click of his tongue he urged his mount to even greater speeds. His lord had thought the battle done, had given the troops leave to spread out, to relax. What a mistake that was. He had to reach the main army, had to reach his lord to tell them the enemy was coming in force.
The land before him was spotted with small stands of trees and rolling hills. He could see members of the army, many he considered friends, moving alone or in small groups through the peaceful landscape. Overhead a scouting band of pegasus knights flew, past the hills, over the trees, towards the deep woods ahead. He tried to shout, but the sound caught in his throat as the first wave of arrows hissed from the sheltered darkness. Two pegasi fell with screams of pain that carried through the air to the ears of all around. The remaining rider turned her mount and fled. Though they were still high in the sky when they passed him, the cavalier could see the animal's white coat was streaked with blood.
Behind him the cavalier heard another equine scream. He turned his head, thinking to see one of the pegasi that fell staggering away from the hidden archers. But that was no scream of pain. A powerful horse barded in red burst from the trees to his right at a full gallop. The beast's ears were pressed flat against its skull and the steel of its rider's weapon was dyed crimson with fresh blood. The red armored cavalier did not look to the green, nor did he to the red, but they brought their horses together in a dead run towards the rest of their army. They passed swordsmen, archers, healers, and mages, all of whom knew the danger and were racing to regroup with the main force. The gravely wounded pegasus knight had reached their lord and the contingent of knights and mercenaries scrambled to form a defensive line.
Abruptly the red cavalier pulled his mount to a halt. Curious, the green followed suit. Their horses heaved with exertion; they turned the animals away from the main force, towards the scattered stragglers and the approaching enemy. A line of horsemen, followed by archers intermixed with swordsmen and axe wielders emerged from the thick wood. Free of the hindering terrain the enemy horse was able to break into a run.
Fall back, their lord cried, fall back!
They tried. A troubadour galloped past on her portly pony, with a myrmidon clinging desperately to the young woman's shoulders as he bounced behind the saddle. A pair of archers saw the approaching charge and, realizing the futility of escape, headed for the nearest copse of trees. If they were to die, and against such a charge they surely would, they would at least make their enemies fight for the kill. The few priests and priestesses there were ran as fast as they could towards their lord's cries, some meeting up with what few warriors on foot still remained apart from the main force. They would hide and pray. And die. The defensive line was in shambles, with knights unable to move into position on advantageous terrain and a mix of cavaliers and moderately armored infantry spread far too thin to be an effective bulwark against the enemy strike.
A hard gallop would take them to join their army. Even stopping to rescue an ally each would leave them plenty of time to reach the main force before the enemy struck. Together they could only save two. The rest would die. And when that tenuous thing masquerading as a defensive line broke even more would. These facts the red cavalier knew as well as the green.
Red gauntleted hands tightened on similarly colored reins. At that moment the green armored cavalier knew his partner's heart; full of fire and passion, ready to fight, to defend their friends and their lord, to give them the time they so desperately needed. Gently he heeled his horse forward a few steps, so the green and the red barded animals stood even with one another. Though they differed on many things, on this they were in agreement.
Together they raised their weapons high above their heads.
Fall back, their lord cried, fall back!
To me, shouted the red, to me!
Forward the horse, shouted the green, forward!
Their men, cavaliers, great knights, paladins, with armor flashing all colors known to man heard the calls of red and green. They heard the desperate calls of their lord. First one broke away from the line. Then another. Then three more. Then the entire cavalry surged forward as one, their horses' pounding hooves drowning out the cries of their lord and gaining speed with every stride.
"Shall we?" the red asked the green. Those words, old as time itself, had never before crossed this cavalier's lips, yet at the same time had been said time upon time again, by thousands before and would be said again by thousands after. The response too was ingrained in the fabric of time; there could be no other.
"Always."
Together the cavaliers charged. Men and women garbed in blue and gold and all the colors beyond and between followed their leaders, the red and the green, in a relentless wave that swept over the plain on an unerring course towards the enemy. Hooves tore into the soft turf and hearts, human and equine, beat as one. The fury of battle was in them, they would not falter. Could not falter. It was they who would give their allies the time needed for some to form a defense and the rest to get behind it. Die they might, but they would not fail in that.
Blood roared in the red's ears and thoughts flashed through the green's mind. Courage and cunning. Strength and speed. Together they were one force. They had always been. They always would be.
In that instant the green cavalier knew he was part of a moment that transcended the borders of time and space. He and his partner, the red and the green, charging down the throat of the enemy were one heart, one mind, and at the same time they were many. He was Lance, he was Stahl, he was Kyle, he was Alec, he was Oscar, he was Sain, he was Abel, he was a thousand, thousand others as his partner was a thousand, thousand others, Alan, Sully, Forde, Noish, Kieran, Kent, Cain. The weapons in their hands were iron, silver, blades of legend, their horses stallion, gelding, mare, bay, grey, chestnut, they themselves man, woman, neither, and both. Onward they came, and onward came their enemy in a scene that had played out countless times before and would play out again and again till there were no more wars, no need for the red and green.
The thunder of hooves and the shouts of friend and foe made their blood sing with exaltation. When sword and lance and axe met each one's fate would be their own. Red or green or both might die or live. Red or green or both had died and lived. But whatever fate befell them, the dichotomy would not end. For in all the ages past and in all the ages to come there was one constant: A single power split in two, the force of verdant crimson.
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In every Fire Emblem game I can recall playing there is always at least one instance where I've foolishly gotten my army into a bad situation and it is the job of the cavalry, led by the red and green cavaliers, to buy time and save me from my folly. Every. Single. Game. So I decided to write a story about it! Thank you for reading!