False Icon

Vika had never really thought much of the goddess. She'd never said as much out loud, except to Muarim and Tormod, because they were the only ones she could trust not to care. Still, it was a constant thought in her life, probably because it always occurred to her again at exactly the moments she didn't need to be distracted.

Iron chains were wrapped around her ankles. The goddess shouldn't allow this.

She'd just found a laguz lying in their own blood, breathing shallowly. The goddess shouldn't allow this!

Her beak tore through the throat of a Begnion soldier before he could push a Beorc into the murky swamp water. Why does the goddess allow this?

Tormod informed her solemnly that the laguz nations were uniting against Begnion. Does the goddess not care about this?

All these statues were supposed to be alive. What sort of goddess would do this?


"What a beautiful figurine..." Micaiah said, holding the wooden icon in her hands like it would break at any second. "The goddess looks so serene."

It was a good carving, Vika thought approvingly. Whoever had carved the goddess' face must have had a very steady hand. She was kind of sad to see it go, but... Micaiah probably needed it more than her. She did have an army to lead. Besides, it had already helped Vika. She didn't need it anymore. "Carry it with you. It'll bring you good luck. I met my boss and Muarim thanks to that figurine."

"Thank you, Vika," Micaiah answered with a smile. "I'll cherish it."

She smiled back, not quite meeting Micaiah's eyes. It was just a wooden figurine; it wasn't anything to get that excited over. But Micaiah seemed honestly grateful to have it. "I'm glad you like it."

"I really do, Vika," she said. "I'm sorry, I've got to go, but... thank you again!"

Vika watched her walk away and held back a sigh. If only all Beorc were like that one.

She scowled. Now, where the hell was Boss's tent...


"You would face me in battle?" Ashera asked. Her voice was flat, emotionless. Vika shuddered. "I need no further evidence of your kind's imperfections. This will hardly be a battle at all... simply an end. Perish, flawed ones."

A... thing... like that wasn't natural, was it? Was this... the goddess? It didn't seem possible that a being so utterly empty could be a goddess. What of all the stories? Was this the goddess who had saved Tellius? Was this the goddess who loved her children? Vika wondered if the goddess even knew what love was. She probably thought it was a flaw.

Ashera's statement was met with a stubborn mixture of roars, caws and yells. The goddess remained unmoved. Not a muscle in her face twitched. She couldn't have done anything more convincing if she'd tried.

If this was Ashera, Vika was quite happy to be fighting her. Maybe her beak and talons would have no effect - she found she didn't care. Surrounded by so many legends, Vika was confident that they could win, goddess or not. Whatever happened, Vika would rather be dead than part of a world ruled by this bitch.

Ashera had a lot to answer for. The slaves, the wars, the statues... that wasn't the work of a divine being. Ashera was no goddess. She was a demon.

Well, Vika had never thought much of her anyway.


A/N: My friend was bugging me to write a Vika fic, so I wrote one. It took me about 30 minutes and I've only given it a few basic looks over for typos, so don't expect too much. I don't really know where I was going with this one... it just sorta happened? D:

FE does not belong to me, and neither does most of this dialogue. (It's part of an info conversation and Ashera's battle quote, respectively.