Hello! Thank you for clicking on my story!
This took quite a while to finish writing and upload, so I hope Chapter Two will be a bit easier! This is my first Fire Emblem fanfiction! Comments and feedback are always welcome! Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I don't own any Fire Emblem characters.
CHAPTER ONE
Sweat poured down her face, chains cackled, ringing out their metal hymn.
W-where am I?
She found herself bound in tight chains against a wooden chair left in the middle of a dim room. There were several torches lining the walls, providing little light, leaving the darkness to surround her. The metal of the cuffs left deep red marks on her wrists. She looked around the dark chamber. No windows, nothing to aid her in an escape. The only form of getaway was by a tightly locked wooden door. Impossible. She flapped her arms up and down, trying to make noise, so someone, anyone, could find her. At the sound of her struggle, a figure emerged from the shadows.
"You finally woke up." The shape said. She looked over to the corner from where the shadow moved. A man.
"Who are you? Why am I chained up?" The woman suddenly questioned, her desperate mind hoping for some answers.
"That does not matter, my lady, nor does it concern you." The man said flatly.
"Of course it concerns me! I'm here, aren't I?"
The man didn't answer. He started to pace the room, watching the fire burn in the torches, checking the woman's chains. She caught his hand.
"Please, you must help me." She pleaded, her amber eyes wide, gripping tightly to him.
He laughed at her then, and pulled his arm away. "I'm afraid I cannot do that."
"W-why ever not?" Her confused stutter bounced off the stone walls. She watched him move away from her and walk around the room again.
"I know who you are, my lady. And this is why I must do this. Master's orders." He said, his back to her. The dazed woman studied him carefully.
What is happening?
She was broken away from her thoughts when she noticed the man pull something from his pocket. A knife. He began to circle around her, his steady footsteps vibrating through the room. The torch light reflected off the sharp edge of the weapon in his hands. The woman's heart was pounding hard in her chest. She could feel the blood rushing through her veins, the breath held in her throat, begging for an escape. He moved in front of her, twiddling the blade in between his fingers. He got closer and closer until she could smell the ale on his breath.
"G-get away from me!" She suddenly shrieked, trying to push him away. The chains rattled, reminding her of how captured she was, like a caged bird.
This is it. She thought. I am done for.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He said with an evil grin plastered on his face. "Not yet."
He laughed then, a sickening sound tossed through the atmosphere. The woman's stomach sank as her captor grabbed her arm. Her fear flashed through her eyes as she looked at him.
His response: A smirk.
She felt the sudden, sharp silver slide across her forearm, once, twice. The strokes left deep gashes in her tender skin, leaking crimson. Her screams filled the chamber, trapped, with no one except this odd man to hear.
The battlefield was a blur of misery and agony. Everywhere the boy turned, he could hear screams of dying men. All of the shrieked pleads meshed together into a bittersweet song. The smell of blood - cold and metallic - hung in the air. He closed his eyes, feeling the words fall from his tongue. He felt their power; the element swirling into charging bodies, crushing bones, knocking the air from their lungs. He turned, whispering the words, raising his right arm high, and cast the spell to the soldiers running towards him. They fell to the ground with a thump, but that didn't stop the boy. He spun around in many directions, reciting the same mantra continuously. He was so engrossed into the feel of the words that he didn't even notice the soldiers running up behind him - until a spear when through his stomach. The boy gasped, grabbing his impaled abdomen. Pain shot up through his body, reaching his limbs, setting him ablaze. He tumbled to the ground, paralyzed. Blood gurgled from his open mouth and wound, leaking to the emerald colored grass beneath him. Darkness began to cloud over his vision.
No. This isn't real. A voice inside of him begged. Wake up, wake up!
Soren was roused with a start, head pounding, heart racing. It was just a dream. He reassured himself. Soren held his chest, trying to steady his breathing. He gazed around his tent, still hanging on to his heart. The mid-morning light cast odd shadows against the tarp walls. Soren groaned and pulled back his blanket. He changed into his black robes and got to work. He put all of his things away into his pack, leaving the small space empty. He quickly took down his tent, and packed it tightly into his bag. After the long war, the mercenaries were finally heading home. Peace had finally made it's mark. For now.
Soren carried his bag away from the clean spot, and walked further into camp. His companions were busy moving about, eating breakfast, packing away their tents and belongings. There was still quite a long journey to be made back to Crimea, and the group wanted to move as fast as possible and continue on with their lives. War was tiring, after all.
Soren looked around the site, hoping to spot his best friend. When he saw the blue haired boy, he headed over to him.
"Soren! Hi!" Ike exclaimed, looking up from his work to acknowledge his friend. He was in the process of taking down his tent.
"Hello, Ike." Soren nodded. "Do you need help with anything?" He asked, motioning to the makeshift shelter.
"Oh, this? No, no. I'm doing fine." The Hero said, sweat dripping from his forehead. The intense heat and hard labor were starting to affect the travellers. The sword wielding mercenary wiped the wetness with the back of his hand. "Have you started taking down your tent yet?"
"Already did it."
Ike laughed. "Doesn't surprise me. Soren, you always seem to be prepared."
The raven haired boy slightly smirked and sat down with his friend. "What are your plans now that the war is over?" The boy asked, feeling curious.
Ike turned his head to the sky, as if asking the clouds for an answer. He thought for a long moment.
"I want to travel to unknown places," He started, breaking the silence with his voice and grunting as he tied the tenting together and pushed it into his pack. "I want to have an adventure."
"That sounds exciting." Soren said, trying to keep the hurt from reaching his voice. He couldn't help feeling upset- Ike was his best friend, and without him, he had no reason to linger around the mercenaries any longer.
"It is," Ike beamed. "And… I was wondering if you would like to come with me."
The sage looked at his companion with surprise, then smiled. "Of course I want to go with you."
The two smiled at each other. Ike began to explain the places he wanted to see.
"Mountains as bitter as the cold winters, oceans as blue as sapphire, trees as tall as the tower Ashera slept in herself!" Ike declared, enthusiasm enfolding his voice. He reached high into the air with both arms. He grabbed his friend's hands. "We will explore unvisited places, we will see new creatures, we will live new lives."
Ike's eyes filled with hope and excitement. Soren couldn't help but smile. Their lovely conversation, however, was broken when Titania barged into the camp on her horse. She pulled on the reins of the animal, bringing it to a halt.
"Everybody listen up!" She shouted so all of the camp could hear. Everyone stood attentive, stopping their chatter to listen to what the paladin had to say. Soren and Ike turned away from each other and watched the red haired woman.
Titania held her head high, her face wiped clean of any emotion before continuing: "There's a small army marching west from here. And they are heading straight towards us."