OMG! It's been so long since ZGDog upload something! My apologizes, but school has recently returned my soul so I was celebrating by replaying FE:PoR. And during said replay I was inspired by Volke and Ike's conversation. Hence, the summary is a direct quote from the game.

Category: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance or FE9

Main Characters: Volke and Soren

Pairings: None

Summary: AUish "If Greil were ever slain by his pursuers…I was to watch over his son and tell him Greil's secret at an appropriate time." Fourshot

Extra Info: Any italicized words are Volke's thoughts. Any bold words are for emphasis. And the timeline is officially messed up, as I read Soren doesn't join the group until he's older. However, I have it that Soren is with Ike and Mist and yes they are young. How young? Eh...younger than 12, but older than 4. My estimate is Ike's about 8-10, Mist is 5-7, and Soren is about 9-11, but physically he looks younger. I hope that sounds about right, I've always been terrible about pinning ages to people. Ugh.

Disclaimer: FE is not mine...nope...nada...nothin'

All That Remains

In all of his years shadowing Greil, he had not expected the man to be slain. Even with his severed tendons, the man was still extremely strong and skilled. The large axe was proof of that. And then word had reached him that Daein had sent eleven highly trained soldiers under the night sky. They traveled as light as they could and avoided major roads.

A dark feeling squirmed and withered inside of him at the news. So he left and traveled towards the one place he believed they destination was. It took five days, but the fireman had arrived at the home of the Greil Mercenaries. It was a candle mark after dawn, the sun blotted out by white clouds. The fort was quite. Volke peered around the mercenaries' home, a pair of knives readied. As he stalked closer, it was clear the weapons were unnecessary.

The battle was already over.

He counted ten highly trained soldiers dead in front of the stone building. The members of the Greil Mercenaries were scattered between the soldiers. He knew them by name only, not face. Volke passed a body garbed in blue armor, now decorated with sprays of blood, with careful footing. Blood made the ground slick. He knelt down at the one he was contracted under.

Numerous wounds were on his body. Five arrow shafts stuck out on Greil's body; shoulder, thigh, stomach, chest, calf. But it was the large sword wound, from collar bone down to the hip that caused the man's death. Strangely, Volke felt disappointment swell inside of him. A proper burial after I scout the rest of the area and find it.

A trail of blood caught his eye. The crimson liquid, mixed with dirt was difficult to distinguish, but with his trained eyes Volke detected it. Dark eyes traced the bloodied path to the end. A woman. Standing up, the fireman strode over to examine her. She was farther away than the others, an arm stretched out towards the building. Dragged herself this far. Even with her pale face and lifeless eyes, he admitted she was beautiful. But what had she been reaching for? A steel axe laid nearly two feet to her left. Not the weapon. A sudden thought struck him like a Thunder Spell.

Someone was still alive and searching for it. How could I forget!

Knives in hand, silent as a shadow, Volke rushed into the fort. The door was left open, blood smeared on the side. Wounded…. The fireman slowed his pace down knowing it would be to his advantage to catch him off guard. The common area was empty, save for a three tables and a dying fire. Blood drops marked the passage of the wounded soldier, providing Volke a clear trail to the west wing of the fort. Pressed against the wall, he peered into the west hall. A solider leaned heavily on the stone wall, his breath ragged. The fireman scanned the man. A blade hung in his left hand, while the right clutched the opposite shoulder. Shoulder and thigh wound. The soldier was obviously handicapped, and spewing out curses. Volke eased slyly into the hallway solely focused on the hired soldier. A split second later, his knife clashed against the other's blade.

"Damn it, who the hell are you?"

Volke swung his other blade low, aiming for the side. However, the knife sunk into the soldier's forearm. The man pulled away, blood seeping out of the fresh wound. The fireman readied the two knives and charged. Volke faked to the left then down and up; one knife slitting the throat and the other pierced stomach. He stepped back from the dead swordsman who crumpled to the ground. The blade along with its master fell to the ground, the impact muffled by the dirt floor.

A quick wipe on the other's tunic and he held clean blades, one he sheathed. All that remained was to find them. And it. He bypassed the doors behind him, assured that the dead man had rifled through them.

The west wing of the fort, his current position, was empty of people. That left the east wing and the central hallway. The east wing housed the rooms for the mercenaries; Greil's room close to his children's of course, while the central hallway had sparse rooms used for storage. The fireman made his way from the west wing to the central hallway in the back of the fort. The first three storage rooms were void of life. He pushed the feeling of panic away, focusing on finding them and it. Remain calm, if they aren't here then they ran into the forest. Reaching the last door in the central hallway, Volke paused.

Would they be here? Would it?

Kicking the door open, the fireman held his ground outside of the room.

Children. Three of them.

One was holding a sword that was too long for his small frame. He was mildly surprised that Greil's son was able to hold it. The other two were huddled together, as close as possible to hide behind the boy.

He knew from shadowing the man that two were his children. The third a stray. There was a slight tug of dread when he saw the girl without the blasted medallion.

With a child's cry, Greil's son charged. Volke twisted around so the boy slammed into the wall due to momentum alone. The fireman grabbed the sword away from his hands. The boy's eyes immediately widened and his small frame started to shake. He sheathed his knife and cast the sword aside.

"I'm a friend of your father." A lie. He had never made friends with Greil. Only a shadow.

"You know father?"

"We met a few times." Truth. Once for the contract, twice when the mercenary group was formed, and thrice when two years had passed after the second. He turned towards the other two and beckoned them to come out and join the boy.

The boy suddenly stood up, the rapid movement causing Volke to tense, a hand grazing the handle of his knife. "Then it's over!" There's a smile on his face, so hopeful, that the fireman hesitates for a second. That's all the brother needs as he rushes down the hallway, running to find Greil.

Volke runs after him, easily catching up to the boy's smaller pace. He catches him in his arms. "No!" He can't let Greil's son see death outside; their father's prone body and lifeless eyes. The boy struggles against him, obviously wanting more than anything to go to his father.

"Let me go! Father! Father!" The fireman hears the panic rise in the young voice, the slow realization that the worst has happened. "No, no! NOOOO!" The boy's crying, banging his fists on Volke's arms. He let him, it's hardly causing any pain. Not physically, but Volke can feel something inside of him cry with the brother. The boy's sobs fall upon the west hall, sounding incredibly loud. It takes him a candle wick to notice that there's an echo of crying. The girl and stray….damnit.

"Enough, we need to leave, now." Volke spun the boy around to stare into his eyes. "Get your sister and the other to your room."

Greil's son sniffed, rubbed his eyes and nose. "But fat-"

"There's no time, there may be more on the way to kill you and your sister." The fireman practically hissed out the words, but he needed the boy's cooperation and to understand their lives were still in danger.. It wasn't safe here, not if they were able to find Greil. Find it. It needed to vanish once again. "You have to protect her now."

Another sniffle. "Are you going to take care of us?" The brother's voice was quiet, but in the silence it was deafening.

"…..Get your sister."

The brother hesitated, but after a hard look from the fireman he fell into a jog back to the storage room, wiping his face as he did so. Volke slipped into their room; the boy's and girl's room. He scanned the area, looking for the cursed thing. Not seeing it, he rummaged around the small table between the beds and the dresser before the three entered the room. "Get your stuff, only what you can carry."

His eyes strayed towards the brother. His contract was to watch over his son. Not the sister nor the stray. Why just the son? The girl is more valuable. Volke positioned himself by the door. Greil no doubt believed he would pass after his son was able to care for his sister. He was the one to watch over, to keep safe. That was his job. Still, the fireman hesitated. He couldn't just leave the girl alone. She was the only one fit enough to carry the blasted thing. Slain too soon.

Knowing that the girl was the only one able to hold it made him weary of others. It was common sense that the brother and sister would remain together. Greil would want them to, and it would be unnecessary cruel to have them apart. They were the surviving members of their family, after all. Yet, even if he did send the girl and boy to a good family…no doubt someone would be careless. Be it the girl, the boy or a villager. Someone would grab the medallion.

Rinse and repeat.

The fireman watched as the three children ransacked the room. At least, the two did. The stray was following the brother like a lost pup, wide eyes and all.

And the stray. What to do with the stray? Judging on the brother and sister, the stray was close to them. The fireman knew it was the boy who found the stray and Greil had adopted the child into the family. However, he didn't make amends to the contract. In truth, he had no responsibility over the stray, just Greil's son. Still. Like the girl, he couldn't just leave the stray.

His mind shifted from the possibility of an adopting family back to the brother's question.

Raise them himself.

Volke frowned. Me? An assassin filling the role of parenthood…What a ludicrous idea. He would have to determine their fate sooner rather than later. The stray was clutching pulling out two books from the dresser, while the girl had gathered two tunics and was stuffing them into a small sack still wiping at her eyes. Volke itched to rid the girl of that old bronze medallion. It was the root of this family's tragedy. And Tellius' bane.

The boy had grabbed a short sword, and by his actions it appeared to be just about the right weight. Though the length was a bit small, the fireman noted. The weapon was shoved into a sheath then into his belt loop before he turned to the stray.

If he did get the girl to forsake her possession, the fireman only knew of one being that could care for it. Herons. They were known to have large amounts of balance within them, like the daughter, like her mother. Herons, though, were beyond his reach.

Grunting, he relinquished the idea. She would keep it. But there still was the issue of what to do with them.

"We're done."

The fireman nodded. Discreetly, he checked all three of their possessions, noting with satisfaction and relief the girl had packed the thing. He told the girl to hold tightly to her sack, noting that she looked ready to cry, again. Offering what he hoped to be a comforting smile, he lifted her into his arms. The sister immediately threw her small arms around his neck. It was a strange feeling. She's so small. Cradling her with one arm, he felt Greil's son slip a hand into his free hand. A quick glance down told the fireman that the stray, was gripping the boy's tunic as if his life depended on it as the other hand was holding another sack.

Children.

What was he going to do with them?

Like the summary implies I'm debating on continuing this or not. If I do I have three ways to take the story.

One: Volke does take them home and care for them.

Two: Volke somehow meets Oscar, Boyd and Rolf and forms a deal with Oscar (since he's the oldest)

Three: Volke takes them to Gallia. And branching off from there either Soren stays with Ike and Mist or Volke takes care of Soren. If I take this route.

Any other ideas and if you really want me to continue this, let me know! I'm opened to ideas.

Z-Dog out. Unfortunately my soul must return to school for a few more weeks. *Cries*