NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Like with "Secrets Buried Deep," this is actually AllHailMario's sister, using his account to publish some fanfic. I don't create my own because I have doubts about how often I'll keep it up, but perhaps I will join one day. Anyway, it seems all my favorite Fire Emblem characters either have mysterious or not-embellished pasts. Here's one for Naesala - I decided on a one-shot ("one-shot" as in I posted it all in one day...it's too short to be a full story, but too long to keep in one chapter, so I split it into four) because I felt I could fit it all in, and I plan on starting another story for Stefan soon - therefore two continuous stories at once would be a little too much to handle. Hope you enjoy. Give reviews - I heart reviewers. :)
STORY SETTING: For those who haven't played Radiant Dawn (or Path of Radiance, for that matter), this story contains spoilers. So nearly everything I describe in Naesala's background really did happen according to the games, BUT the actual premise is not based on the game. This takes place shortly after the raven tribe kills off most of the hawk tribe in a confusing act of betrayal. In the actual game, Naesala somehow disappears while Tibarn helps Ike and friends, but in this story, Tibarn actually catches up to Naesala before everyone gets turned into stone and confronts him.
So, this should eliminate everyone who complains, "Wait, this interaction never happened in the game!" K? We're good? Good. Enjoy the story.
He thought he'd heard something.
The raven king, Naesala, stopped in his tracks and looked around. Curse the evening, he thought, squinting. It's getting dark and my eyes are terrible in the night.
He thought it sounded like feathers ruffling. Maybe leaves? Naesala perked his ears, hoping the wind would bring more of the noise to him. All was silent now. Could be anything, Naesala took in a breath. This is a forest, after all. There are plenty of creatures that live in the forest. Could be a fox stepping around...but it really sounded like feathers.
Naesala slowly started to walk again. He supposed he ought to take flight. The sooner he got back to his Kilvan fortress, the better. They were in times of war - as good incentive as any to watch his back, especially after what he'd done to the hawk tribe of Ph-
No! Don't think about that, Naesala immediately interrupted his thoughts, walking even faster. That's over. It's...no, just don't think about it. Get it out of your mind. Pretend it didn't even happen. Now anxious, he unfolded his wings, flapped them a couple times to prepare them for flight, then launched off the ground. It was much darker out than he'd thought, especially in the midst of trees. Curse his poor night vision...
There it was again. That sound. Naesala's heart caught in his throat. It was definitely rustling feathers. It's just one of my spies, he assured himself. We're in Kilvas, the only laguz that should be hanging around here are my own kind. Nothing to worry about, just get back to the fortress. His wings pounded more violently against the wind, pushing him faster through the air. It had to be a Kilvan. Had to be.
Then a shriek rent the air. A hawk shriek.
Suddenly terrified, Naesala prepared to transform into his full raven state. Right before the transformation took place, a large solid figure smashed straight into his body and slammed him to the ground. Naesala remained in his demi-beorc form as the rock-hard figure pinned his arms to the dirt and loomed over him.
Oh, goddess, this is the end...
"Tibarn," Naesala swallowed, trying to hide his fear but doing a lousy job of it.
Tibarn, the hawk king of Phoenicis, was a fear-inducing laguz even on his good days. His tall, muscular build could make any man shiver in his boots, and when he transformed into his enormous hawk form and aimed his talons, there was no fury like it. Naesala never kidded himself to think that he could ever come close to Tibarn in strength. Now, even though untransformed, the rage and vengeance in Tibarn's eyes struck utter terror in the heart of the raven king.
"Expecting me, crow?" Tibarn's deep voice spoke softly yet full of anger. "You should have been."
Naesala had grown accustomed to the derogatory name of "crow," but still flinched as Tibarn spit it at him. Squirming under Tibarn's weight, he tried in vain to slip his slender wrists out of the hawk king's grip.
"I trusted you, Naesala," Tibarn's voice slowly raised. "That you betrayed us once again is severely disappointing. That you nearly murdered the entire Phoenicis race..."
He's going to kill me. If I wait five more seconds, I will not be alive. And the pact... Using his gifted speed, Naesala managed to yank his wrists away from Tibarn and bolt out from under him. He knew he wouldn't get very far - he just had to put more time between him and death to try and think of an explanation.
"You can't kill me yet, Tibarn," Naesala stammered. "As much as I deserve it, I...I can't die yet. Certain things need to be accomplished, and I have to be alive-"
Naesala was interrupted by Tibarn slamming into him again. One of Tibarn's hands firmly grasped Naesala's hair close to his scalp while the other gripped the base of one wing. Naesala squawked in pain and attempted to pull away. It only resulted in both Tibarn's grips getting firmer. Naesala decided to stay put, lest his wing get torn out.
Bringing his face nose to nose with Naesala's, Tibarn growled, "I'll give you till the count of five to explain why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now. Your reason had better be good, or I'll tear both your wings out before wrenching your head off your neck. One..."
"I can't explain it fully right now," Naesala trembled, sweat dripping down his face as Tibarn kept him close. "You don't understand my circumstances."
"Two..."
I can't tell Tibarn about the pact, or that accursed Lekain will invoke it. If I don't tell, I alone will die. Lekain has so many spies, he'll surely know if I reveal the pact, and once he knows, who knows how many of my people will perish...
"Three..."
But if I die, Kilvas is without a leader. I never took the time to establish who gets the throne in the event of my sudden death, so a vastly inexperienced raven may be appointed, and I won't even be alive to warn him of the pact. My death alone could be the end of the Kilvan race...
"Four..."
But if I reveal the pact, Lekain will know! THAT will be the end of Kilvas. Our tribe is the smallest of all the laguz, there's not a lot of us left. No matter what I choose, my entire nation will be sentenced to death. Lekain must've forseen this...
"Five!" Tibarn shouted, releasing Naesala's wing and transferring his hand to Naesala's jaw. Violently he jerked to the side.
"Tibarn, no! My people...!" Naesala shrieked, pushing weakly at Tibarn's face.
"Your people? You think I care anything about your people?" Tibarn ceased from snapping Naesala's neck to slap him heavily across the face. "After what your nation did to mine, you think I care if there's a single one of you left alive? By the end of this, your nation along with your name will be buried for the massacre at Phoenicis." - Another slap - "You're only fortunate I'm a merciful man. I should torture you until you can hardly breathe before ending your life."
Perhaps fear made him give in. Perhaps the head blows destroyed any further ability to argue with himself. Whatever the case, Naesala yanked his jacket sleeve up his arm and held it out in front of Tibarn. Breathing hard and trying not to vomit, Naesala waited as Tibarn noticed the strange black design on his forearm.
"What is that supposed to be?" Tibarn demanded.
"I...I can't explain it now, but it's the reason behind everything," Naesala said. "When the time comes-"
"The time is now," Tibarn grabbed Naesala's hair again. "You give me a reason to keep you breathing now or it's over for you. I think you're just stalling for time, giving excuses, trying to avoid responsibility for your ugliness like always. I refuse to play your games anymore, crow. You talk now or you will never get the opportunity again."
Oh, Kilvas, forgive me, Naesala swallowed, taking a shaky breath before choking out, "It's a blood pact. That's what the mark is."
"Keep talking," Tibarn snarled, tightening his grip on the raven's hair. "Explain yourself fast."
"It means I'm bound under the writer of the pact," Naesala said, praying Tibarn would release him and stop the pain, if only for a moment. "I must do whatever the writer of the pact commands of me or else he will invoke the pact. This mark means I'm bound under Begnion. If they order me to do something, I must do it. I have no other choice."
Nauseated and trembling, Naesala prayed there weren't any Begnion spies hanging around. If there were, the pact could be invoked as early as tomorrow. One mysterious death would be the beginning of another "plague," and Kilvas still hadn't gotten over the first one. His entire country would be thrown into a panic and would die in fear.
"What happens if Begnion invokes the pact?" Tibarn asked, his voice slightly calmer, his grip definitely not. "What terrible thing will happen that causes you to obey Begnion no matter what they ask?"
Naesala hated to even think about the past. Kilvas as a whole tried to put it behind them, lest they live in worry their entire lives. Still, at this point, it was no use holding back. Naesala had already told about the pact, and Tibarn was still on the verge of ending his life for murdering most of the Phoenicis race.
"The pact comes in the form of a plague," Naesala explained quietly. "The first day it's invoked, one of my people will die. On the second day, two will day. On the third, three. You get the point. The pact ends whenever Begnion desires it to end. Any number of Kilvans could perish before Begnion forgives."
Tibarn slowly released the grip on the raven's hair. Wincing, Naesala massaged his throbbing scalp. Tibarn rubbed his thumb across Naesala's pact mark, then looked back into the raven king's eyes. Naesala could see a bit more understanding in them. There was a slight chance he might actually get to keep his life.
"So let me ask something that might sound like a stupid question," Tibarn spoke sarcastically. "As deceitful and sly as you are, you've always come across to me as rather intelligent. What the devil would cause you to sign any kind of blood pact with Begnion, knowing it came with this? Even with your excessive greed for riches, surely nothing they could have promised would be worth this kind of bondage."
"I did nothing," Naesala frowned, bitterness creeping in. "I simply inherited the pact from the former king of Kilvas. Yes, I do try to make a name for Kilvas and becoming rich is an easy way to do that. But no amount of riches could buy my allegiance to a blood pact. As the former king died and I was crowned king, this mark showed up on my arm. One of my new stewards had to explain to me what it was."
Tibarn stared at Naesala for a moment before bringing his face close again and growling, "You'd better be telling me the truth, crow."
"I would not lie about something that affects my country this greatly," Naesala replied. "The life or death of my people relies on this. I would not speak falsely about a matter this important."
"Why did the former king sign the pact?" Tibarn asked, seeming to calm down even further. "I never knew much about him, as he reigned before I became king."
Naesala frowned and sighed. "Let's be frank, Tibarn. My nation is the weakest among the laguz. We were freed from slavery last, simply because we weren't strong enough to escape. While your hawks were powerful enough to fight off Begnion if they came for you, Kilvas was not. Begnion promised King Ellukka the safety of his own land if he signed the pact. If he did not, Begnion could easily have overtaken us and enslaved us again."
Tibarn glanced at the ground for a moment, seeming to think over everything Naesala had told him. Naesala closed his eyes, suddenly shamed for his race. I have done all I can to be the best king for Kilvas, he thought bitterly. Yet we are so weak that we must resort to slavery to survive. We could never win a war on our own, while our hawk brethren wouldn't bat an eye. Had I simply been born with a different set of wings, none of this would ever have happened to me.
"In the form of a plague..." Tibarn muttered, suddenly looking up at Naesala. "The pact...you mean...that's what happened to Kilvas years ago? That's how...?"
"Begnion wanted us to spy on Daein," Naesala spat. "King Ellukka refused. Had our ravens gotten caught in the act, not only would they have been sentenced to death, but Daein likely would have attacked back, maybe even declared war. We'd never survive Daein's military strength. Unfortunately not many of us survived the effects of the blood pact. That time was so much hell that we probably would've preferred Daein showing up on our island..."
Note from the author: After reading this story over several times, I felt I should describe my reasoning behind Naesala's disposition. During most of the game(s), Naesala's a rather sly fellow who speaks very calmly and almost always has a smirk on his face. However, here I take into account all the stress that he's under, and of course the very distinct reality of being slain by Tibarn, to explain the raven king's fear and honesty. Also, in Radiant Dawn, at one point this part of Naesala's personality is shown, when Skrimir attempts to kill him. So this story here focuses on how Naesala really feels, and leaves out most of the nonchalant front he puts up. Moving on to part two...
