Ok, first the normal legal stuff. I dont own the Fire Emblem series, and all original characters, places and events are a work of fiction. Any similarities are completely coincidental. Thank you, and enjoy the show.

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Prologue: The End of Peace

"Focus, Richard!"

"Easy for you to say, Carrick, you're not the one down here!" said a young redhead, dressed in blue, standing in the middle of an arena filled with various wooden machines, each armed with several blade-like extensions swinging through the air. As the man ducked through the machines swirling arms, striking at the machines with a longsword, another young man, about his age, dressed in robes of blue and silver, stood on the balcony above and laughed.

"Oh come on, now, Richard," the other young man said, still laughing, "I invented those training statues myself. My going up against them would be child's play! Besides, I can use my magic to attack from a distance, you have to deal with enemies up close, so you have to learn to evade and parry."

"Pfff, I figured you'd come up with some sort of excuse, Carrick," Richard shouted back, turning his head just in time for a wooden arm to crack him upside the head, knocking him to the ground.

"Lord Richard, are you okay?" shouted Carrick, running down the stairs to help his friend.

Richard got up off the floor, rubbing the back of his head where the pole had struck him. "No, you moron! That really hurt! Why the hell did you make those hurt so much?"

Carrick sighed, looking at the bruise on the back of his friend's head. "You know, if that were a real sword from an enemy combatant, you would be dead right now. I thought that if I made the training machines hit hard enough, it would make you more apt to dodge attacks rather than taking them head on, like you normally do. Anyway, let's go get you some ice for that bump of yours, Milord."

Just as the two were about to leave, a man dressed in silver armor with a blue tabard rushed into the room, clearly out of breath.

"Milord, you are needed in the throne room immediately. A messenger from the neighboring kingdom of Irilia is here, there's been an emergency. They've been attacked! The messenger arrived with heavy injuries, and is currently being tended to in the castle's infirmary."

"What?! Carrick, come on, we've got to go!" Richard said as he ran out of the room, towards the infirmary.

--

"But why were you attacked?" Richard asked, looking at the Irilian envoy as royal healers tended to the soldier's wounds.

The messenger struggled to sit up, his wounds still fresh. "I have no idea," he rasped, clutching his chest. "Armasian forces came out of the east, and started to lay siege to the capital. Our armies were doing well to hold off the invaders, but there was no way we could hold them off much longer. I was sent to get help here in Dunis, but I was pursued by the Armasians and attacked near the border. Your border guards rescued me, but I'm afraid my time is short."

"Relax, you're going to be fine. Our healers are some of the best professionals on the continent, you'll be up and running again in a few days." Richard said, as the royal healers were finishing up the bandages. "More importantly, when did the siege begin? How long do we have to get reinforcements to your aid?"

Carrick, who had been leaning against the wall, got up and walked over next to Richard, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Milord, may I speak to you in private for a moment?"

"Richard, I cannot advise sending an entire legion of soldiers to aid them. We cannot risk getting involved in a war that doesn't affect us."

"Carrick, that's madness! We can't just sit back while our allies are killed in front of us! And besides, if we-"

"Richard, please. As your royal mage and advisor, I urge you to listen to me here. We have to follow the responsible course of action here if we want to avoid an international incident. Suppose we were to send a full legion of soldiers to Irilia's aid, only to arrive just in time to see the fall of the Irilian capital. Our reinforcement troops would be slain faster than a Pegasus race, and our own capital would be undermanned. The Armasian forces would recognize our legion's colors, and attack here next, leaving us in the same sticky situation as our Irilian friends. Would you really throw away your country, milord, to try to save a doomed ally? Please, Richard, think about this."

"You're right, Carrick. I can't put our country in peril just to help our friends. I'm heading to my chambers to think over this whole mess over. In the meantime, please try to think of a way we can help safely." With that, Prince Richard left the room, a tear beginning to form in his eye as he went through the door.

"Hmph, the prince is as stubborn as ever." Carrick said, noticing the tear in his lord's eye. "One thought of her and he's abandoning all reason to come to her rescue. Kind of beautiful, really, if it weren't so foolhardy."

--

"I thought as much, Richard. You never were very good at covering up your plans."

Putting down the rucksack he was carrying, Richard turned to Carrick with a smirk. "How'd you know I'd be leaving like this? And furthermore, how do you know I'm not just going for a hike to mill over the decision?"

"As I said, milord, you were never good at covering things up. Besides, I know you. There was no possible way you'd just leave Lady Amia to fight on her own, lover boy."

"Lover boy?" said Richard indignantly. "I'm merely concerned about what would happen if Irilia were to fall, leaving us at the front of an invading force."

"And of course, the princess has absolutely nothing to do with this."

"Look, who's in charge here? Does it really matter my reasons? I'm going to see what's going on, and that's final!"

"Well, if there's one thing I've learned from working in your court all these years, it's that you never know when to give up. I've already packed a few things for the trip, and I'm coming with you. Besides, it would be my head if you got killed out there and I left you to leave on your own." Carrick said as he picked up a rucksack of his own. Hoisting the bag onto his shoulder, Carrick called over two horses, leading one over to Richard and saddling his own. "We'd better hurry if we're going to rescue your little girlfriend!"

"She's NOT my girlfriend!"Richard yelled, mounting his horse and giving chase towards Irilia.