IceBlade28: Well, this is gonna be my newest multi-chaptered fic. To all my fans, or those of you who are fans, Person's Unknown will still be updated and continued as normal- but this fic will be occuring too. Don't worry.
Serra: Hey, cool! I'm your muse for this fic too!
IceBlade28: Serra, you're my only muse. Don't let it go to your head.
Serra: Oh, you mean no-one else was good enough to be your muse! Finally, all my hard work and prayers has-
IceBlade28: Right. Anyway, since Person's Unknown featured my female tactician Kaira (even if she is dead), I thought it only fair for this tale to feature my male tactician, Erisal.
Serra: You were so cruel. How could you murder Kaira!
IceBlade28: I didn't. X did.
Serra: That's besides the point!
IceBlade28: Serra, shut up. Enjoy my newest fic!
The Blood Of Pride
Chapter I: Farewells And Parting Gifts
Erisal smiled as he sat in the shadows, watching the members of Lyndis' Legion dance and eat and drink. The late Lord Lundgren had been slain no more than two days ago, and the coronation would take place tomorrow. Tonight was Lyn's last night as a simple Sacaen woman, and many of her friends and family thought it only right to celebrate tonight.
The tactician felt like some shadowy assassin, lurking in the shadows. The warm light from the nearby fire flickered and danced over his ring. The ring was pure silver, and he'd had it for as long as he could remember. The words 'Faith' and 'Courage' were inscribed on the ring, referring to an old saying he'd once heard. 'A man who is true to his heart not only has the faith to do what is right, but the courage necessary to accomplish it, overcoming all obstacles to achieve his goal.'
A very wise man had once said that to him, though he could not remember where. Frowning, Erisal took a sip from his goblet of wine. It was definitely an occasion wine; with a more powerful taste of fruit than alcohol.
The tactician watched his long-time friend dance on the stone floor, her long green hair swirling around her. Lyndis was . . . striking. She was beautiful, there was no point lying about it. Erisal smiled slightly as the Sacaen woman spun gracefully on the floor, before smiling and excusing herself. There were many servants, along with select members of Lyndis' Legion. Even Dorcas had managed to arrive in time, with his young wife Natalie in tow. Somehow Natalie kept her footing and was dancing with the best of them; even though her leg was supposed to be rotten with sickness and on the verge of collapsing.
I guess miracles do happen, Erisal thought happily. He watched Lyn quench her thirst with some water from a bowl, before walking over towards him.
"Erisal," she said, confused. "How come you aren't out here yet? Surely you don't want the night to go to waste." The tactician shifted nervously.
"I'm afraid dancing isn't really my thing." he said, his heart beating faster than normal. Lyn smiled, offering her hand.
"Come on." she said. "It can't be that bad." Erisal sighed. Apparently his friend wouldn't stop until she got her way; not that he cared very much. To dance with a true beauty of the plains-
No. Stop, he told himself. Don't go down that road. It will never work out. She is- will be- a princess. You are nought but a tactician. It would never work.
Slowly, Erisal allowed himself to be lead onto the stone tiles, and he danced with Lyn. The music from the violins and flutes and drums seemed to pulse through his body, and he found himself dancing that little bit harder, going that extra bit further. Eventually, more than one couple stopped to stare at the tactician and the princess.
After a time, the music ended, and Lyn stepped backwards from the tactician, breathless.
"Erisal," she panted. "I had . . . I had no idea. Why weren't you dancing before?" The tactician offered a small smile.
"It's not really my favourite activity." he said, trying not to blush. Even though his heart was racing, he was overcome with a surge of sadness. He bowed his head to Lyn, showing his respect, before leaving the dance floor.
Erisal headed towards a door, his mind silently running over calculations. Rath would be leaving soon, and doubtless Lyn would want to speak with him before the Nomad left. About . . . . now.
Halfway out the door, Erisal looked back to see Rath silently rise from his chair and slip out the only window facing the Sacae Plains. The tactician grinned, and descended down a stone staircase. It was best if Lyn didn't know he'd left; Erisal hated long goodbye's.
Although, there was one person he wouldn't mind saying goodbye to, if only she would come to see him . . .
-----
Rath slowly untethered his horse, giving it's mane a brief pat before placing a foot in the stirrups. He was about to climb into the saddle when a familiar voice held him back.
"Rath, wait!" cried a female voice. The Nomad didn't even turn around. He knew she'd wind up out here, wanting to say goodbye.
"Lyn of the Lorca." he said, removing his foot from the stirrups. "Why have you abandoned your party? It is to celebrate your ascension to the throne, under your grandfather. It is your moment." Lyn smiled, trying to meet his gaze.
"It . . . it didn't seem right without you." she said gently. Rath didn't move, and his emerald eyes were impassive.
"Lyn, what do you want to say?" he said. "I cannot stay, you know this." Lyn sighed, taking a step back.
"I suppose not. But Rath . . . I wanted to thank you." The Nomad held up a hand.
"I need no thanks from a fellow plainsdweller." he said, and his cold eyes seemed to take on a certain softness. Lyn stepped forward and held Rath close, embracing him fondly.
"Thanks to you, I have my Grandfather." she said, still holding him tight. "I have my throne . . . I couldn't let you leave, not without knowing that." Rath shrugged.
"Now I know." he said simply. Lyn stopped, unsure of how to react. She released him, the uncertainty showing on her face.
"Oh . . . I guess . . this is goodbye, then." Lyn said quietly. Rath nodded.
"Until we meet again, Lady Lyndis." the Sacaen said, climbing into the saddle. He was about to nudge his steed into a canter when Lyn grabbed his wrist.
"Lady Lyndis?" she echoed. "Rath, I'm still the same person you rescued in Araphen! I am still of the Lorca tribe; still of Sacaen heritage!" she said fiercely. "I would never abandon my tribe! You know what the blood of a Sacaen means to me! Just because I'm a noble now-"
Rath's gaze cut off any reply. Lyn stood still, her mouth hanging open in an undignified manner. His next reply was carefully spoken, and Lyn would remember his answer for years to come.
"Lyn . . . you are proud of your Sacaen lineage, and this alone is enough to ensure you a place in my heart." he said quietly.
"Rath . . ." Lyn whispered, unsure of how to react. The Nomad tugged the reins sharply, and his horse galloped into the sunset.
Lyn smiled sadly at his retreating form, silhouetted by the golden glow of the Sacaen plains.
Even though Erisal was standing not two metres behind her, Lyn did not take her eyes off Rath's retreating form. Nor did she notice as the tactician turned his back and walked away.
-----
The next day dawned, and Erisal woke from his usual dreams. They were never the most pleasant of dreams; his nights were tortured by demons and fires of the past. Erisal rubbed his eyes and massaged his brow gingerly, trying to work away the headache.
"Get out of there," he muttered, kneading his temples. "Stop it. It's in the past; they're gone." he said aloud. Attempting to distract himself, he flicked back the sheets and rose out of the bed. His mind usually took it's time to 'warm up', but once it did he was on for the day.
Erisal was about to throw on a simple green shirt when he remembered that today wasn't just any day. Today was the coronation day of Lady Lyndis, marking her ascension to the throne of Caelin. Sighing, Erisal pulled out his travel bag and began to pack his clothes and effects. Lyn wouldn't be seeing him at the coronation, though she would doubtlessly want to.
Erisal paused, struggling with the feelings awash in his heart. He wasn't sure how Lyn would take two people leaving her in two days . . . but she'd have to. The tactician had places to go, people to see . . . there was a debt that needed to be repaid, and a promise that needed to be fulfilled.
The tactician closed the clasp over his neck, inspecting himself in a mirror.
"You look very nice, Sir Tactician." said a chambermaid. Erisal turned to the girl, who immediately hid her face.
"Beggin' your pardon, Sir Tactician." she said hurriedly, pulling out a rag to wipe the window with. Erisal's expression turned suspicious.
"How long have you been here?" he asked, feeling strangely self-conscious. He usually slept with a shirt off, but . . .
"Oh, not very long, your Tacticianship." the maid said, blushing and rubbing harder against the window. Erisal watched her for a moment, shrugged, and walked out the door. Perhaps he would attend the coronation, if only for a short while.
Erisal looked down at his ring, reading the inscription and feeling a pang of guilt.
I am doing what's right, he thought. There are long-overdue debts that needed to be paid, and a promise that needs to be fulfilled . . .
The tactician shouldered his pack and closed the door to his room, descending the stone flight of steps. He would stay until Lyn was crowned; just long enough to establish eye contact.
Then he would leave, never to return.
-----
Kent and Sain stood carefully to attention, while Wallace stood near the door as the designated head of security. Almost the entire platoon of the Royal Caelin Guards were attending, along with the majority of Caelin itself. The tactician stood near the back of the hallway, watching Lyn with eyes of such hardness that a hawk would cringe under their gaze. It was almost eerie.
Lyn sat on the throne in her traditional Sacaen garb, with the Sword of Spirits in it's sheath by her side. Erisal leant against the back wall, his arms folded across his chest as he watched the ceremony take place. Kent walked forward, holding out a ceremonial sabre and a sceptre of gold. He handed the sceptre to Lyn, who took it, admiring it's fine craftmanship. After this, Kent removed a polished and bejewelled tiara from a velvet cushion, and held it above Lyn's head. Sain took the sabre from Kent and placed the flat of the blade on Lyn's right shoulder.
"Lady Lyndis," Kent intoned. "Through the knightship given me by thy esteemed hand, and the royal blood which flows through thy veins, thou art proclaimed Princess, and Ruler over all of Caelin. May thy days be long upon this land."
Sain tapped Lyn twice on each shoulder, before sheathing the razor sabre with a 'clack'. Lyn rose to her feet, and the many subjects under her rule applauded. Lyn of the Lorca was now Lady Lyndis, Princess of Caelin.
Erisal smiled sadly, removing his silver ring and placing it gently within his pocket. Lyn's teal eyes scanned the crowd, until they met with the hard amber eyes of her faithful tactician. For a moment Lyn's heart was gladdened, until Erisal bowed his head respectfully and waved. Her Sacan eyes did not miss a thing; Erisal's ring had been removed.
The tactician turned and exited through the oaken double doors, leaving Lyn amidst hundreds of her servants and guards. The Sacaen princess' eyes were saddened, and she felt her heart sink. He couldn't leave without saying goodbye!
Erisal, outside of the throne room, shouldered his travelling bag and looked out a window. The sun was shining beautifully on the plains of Sacae, and it was towards the oceans of grass that Erisal would journey.
-----
The tactician stood on a hill overlooking the plains, and took a deep breath. One chapter ends, another begins, he said to himself. As much as he liked Caelin . . and Lyn . . . he couldn't stay there. There was too much of Elibe to see, and there was almost certainly others somewhere in the continent that needed his help. His skills were needed. They had been honed through years of training, and through his campaign that placed Lady Lyndis in her throne. He was barely fifteen, and some would still call him a child. Nevertheless, there were many who respected him, and vice versa.
Erisal adjusted his backpack, and took a few shaky steps down the hill, pausing to gain his balance and pick off a burr that had decided to hitch-hike on his long green robe.
"Erisal, wait!" Lyn cried, running for the hill. Erisal almost chuckled, and trudged back up the hill to face his friend.
"I couldn't leave without a goodbye, huh." he said knowingly. Lyn looked downcast.
"But why leave at all? Erisal, you know I'd love to have you stay at Caelin, and-" Erisal raised a hand and cut her off.
"Lyn, I know you want me to stay here, but I really can't. There's still so much in my life that's unfinished. I-" Erisal paused, unsure of how to continue.
"I can't be tied down by anything. Even . . ." he blushed red, and looked at the ground. Lyn had to bend low to catch his next words.
"Even a beautiful woman like you." he mumbled. Lyn was taken aback, unsure of how to respond. Erisal looked up, and decided to get everything out in the open.
"Lyn . . . I loved you. But, with the age difference and all . . . I need to go." he said, stronger this time. The Sacaen woman was shocked. Erisal was only fifteen, sure, but still-
"Not because of my feelings for you!" he said quickly. "You've been a wonderful friend to me, and you've saved my life. I'm even attracted to you . . . I guess . . . I really do love you, Lyndis. But I've got to get away from Caelin." he explained. Lyn thought quickly, her mind reeling from the revelations that had taken place.
"If it's money you need, I could hire you." she said quickly. "I'd have no problem paying you; a princess never knows when she needs tactical advice." Erisal looked out, towards the midday sun, illuminating one of the most spectacular views of Sacae.
"Lyn, it's not money. Because of your new duties as the Princess, I know you can't do this; but I ask you: If you were my age, and in my shoes, and you had all of this-" he paused to motion towards the plains. "-just ripe for the taking. If you were able to see it all, to meet the people and change the world, tell me. Would you want to be held back?" Lyn's shoulders slumped. The answer was obvious; even being this close to the oceans of grass was making her weak.
"No. I wouldn't." she said glumly. Erisal tried to smile, and a tear slipped from his eye.
"I'll miss you, Lyn." he said, his voice breaking. "But I promise I'll drop in sometime, okay?" he added. Lyn smiled and embraced the boy, feeling joy and grief all at the same time.
"I'll miss you too, Erisal." Lyn said finally. The young tactician paused, before digging into his pockets. After a short while, he held out his hand and revealed his silver ring. Lyn stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do.
"I want you to have it, Lyn." the tactician said finally. Lyn made a small exclamation and took the ring from his hand; it fit perfectly onto her third finger. The words 'Faith' and 'Courage' gleamed brightly in the sun.
"Well, I've stuck around here long enough." Erisal said quickly; his voice took on such a casual tone that it made the moment seem strange.
"So long, Lyndis." he said at last, before turning his back and walking down the hill. Lyn watched him go, before fiddling with the ring he'd given her and turning back towards the castle.
-----
Erisal walked with difficulty through a patch of long grass, befor stopping and sighing to himself. He removed his bag and began undoing the straps that held the machete to the back, figureing he could simply cut his way through and everything would be easier.
A dark shadow was cast on his back, and he shivered before looking behind him. A particularly ugly brute was standing over him, and had raised a club over his head. Erisal yelled and quickly stabbed the Brigand in the stomach, pushing the man backwards. The ruffian was dead before he hit the ground, and Erisal turned slightly pale as he pulled the blade from his foe's belly and wiped it on the coarse leather clothes.
The tactician was about to leave when he caught sight of a tattoo on the man's cheek. It was crude, and made with plant dye, but there was no mistaking it. Two Iron axes, in the shape of a 'T'.
"Crap. I just killed a Taliver." Erisal murmured. He knew from past dealings that the Taliver were fiercely veangeful, and very rarely traveled on their own. Erisal looked up, and his trained eyes saw several more men making their way towards him. Erisal stood and ran-
Straight into the waiting arms of a Brigand. He grinned toothlessly, and pinned Erisal tight.
"Oh, not good-" Erisal began, but he was cut off by a sharp blow to the head. The rest of the Taliver bandits quickly came over to the teenagers limp body, trussing him with ropes and lifting them over their shoulders.
"So, Chief, what're we gonna do wit'im when we gets back to the camp?" a Brigand asked. The chief, a heavily muscled man with an eyepatch, smirked.
"We're gonna use him." he said. "That blasted Lorcan can't escape, no matter how far she runs. Sure, she's a poncy noble now, but that makes things sweeter. We can kill all her friends, and she won't be able to do a thing about it." the chief laughed.
"There will be no dawn for the men of Caelin! If it costs us our lives, the tribe of the Lorca shall be swept from the earth forever!" he cried, thrusting his axe in the air.
A mighty cheer erupted from the army below. Every manner of scum imaginable was there, and they easily numbered in the hundreds. Soldiers, Brigands, Mages, Archers; there was even a select Berserker or two.
The Taliver chief grinned wickedly as he descended into their camp. This tactician was famed for his skill- and now that skill would be put to proper use.
IceBlade28: And that'll about do it for Chapter one.
Serra: Oh, poor Erisal! Will this be a Lyn/Tactician fic?
IceBlade28: At the moment, I'm not sure how it'll turn out. I don't plan my stories- they write themselves. But I'm trying to 'guide' this fic so it doesn't turn into a Lyn/Tactician. I'm not the greatest fan of that particular pairing. Oh well.
Serra: R&R everyone!