Oathbreaker

Disclaimer: So, I don't own Fire Emblem. Is anyone really surprised? ^_^

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Two men sat thirty feet from each other at opposite ends of a long dining table.

The one, Anvad Rei. One of his many, many names.

--Born in Etruria.

The other, Ephidel. His only name.

--Born in Hell.

Anvad Rei took up a knife and fork and sliced through a thick slab of meat on his plate, watching the flesh fall away at his touch. Effortless and silent. The only sound that dared to disturb the immense granite room was that of two serrated knives cutting through fibers. Interesting sounds, if you knew what to listen for.

The figure opposite hunched over his plate, unmoving except for his relentlessly serene golden eyes. Rei lifted the fork to his mouth and bit firmly.

Very few men had ever unnerved Anvad Rei. Only one woman had ever defied him. None had ever lifted a blade against him and lived—his master had annihilated any possibility of failure. Now, his life was driven by hate, passion, and desperation, a disposition he found useful as a killer.

But this morph could unnerve a rock with a glance.

Of course, Rei might easily put a knife through one of those snakelike eyes in an instant. Thirty feet was no distance at all for a well-balanced cutting utensil. However, neither was there any guarantee that the assassin would not be burned to a neat pile of ash before the weapon reached its target. The balance of power in this room was hardly one-sided.

Surprisingly, it was a grudging, mutual appreciation for the other's power that allowed each man to dine in relative peace. Well—that, and an oath: one person's life spared in exchange for limitless others destroyed.

Naturally the oath was secondary in importance. The assassin twisted his mouth in a wry smile. He was already an oathbreaker anyway, three times over.

Ephidel suddenly dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin and chose that moment to rise deliberately from his chair, obviously favoring his left leg. The morph dragged it behind without apology as he exited the room in silence. Rei remained seated for a full minute, knowing it would take just that long for Ephidel to make it down the hall. Finally he got up. He would be expected.

His employer greeted him from the center of the library floor, enveloped in a haze of green smoke from the ritual fire and holding a small, crescent- shaped blade.

Rei ignored his salutation. "You waste time. Why do you require my presence?"

Ephidel ran his hands caressingly over the dagger's hilt and said nothing.

"I would like an explanation. I have unfinished business waiting."

The morph eyed him, lips pulling back to show perfect white teeth. "In a moment," he said quietly, "that business will become just as inconsequential to you as it is to me. Be patient."

Rei forced his hands to stay where they were and kept his voice level. "You forget that I am not patient."

"Mm. Would you like to hear what I have to say, or would you like to argue? It is eleven at night."

"My point."

"Of course. Anvad—yes, it is Anvad they call you now, isn't it? How strange."

The assassin crossed his arms. Ephidel merely raised an eyebrow and continued.

"Well, Anvad Rei, I have here in my hands something very dangerous. Very powerful. Would you like to see?"

Rei looked at it. It was a peculiar weapon. The short, curved blade appeared to be forged of silver, and the worn, scratched hilt looked like ebony. Strange, he thought, to use wood in the making of a dagger. Though the hilt was dark and covered in a mass of ancient writing, any assassin could easily identify the even darker splotches mottling its surface. Blood.

His mouth settled into a thin line, already anticipating the morph's next words. "I would not use it. It is unconventional."

The lie surprised even himself. Nothing was unconventional to Anvad Rei—anything, even a toothpick or a hairpin, would serve equally well as an instrument of death.

But he had not, apparently, surprised Ephidel. "Why do you lie, Anvad?" the morph whispered to him, the corner of his mouth quirking knowingly. "How could the assassin fear such a small thing?"

"I fear nothing," the assassin replied. Another lie. "I prefer to use my own weapons."

"Ah. But you have no choice, you know. I make your choices for you."

Rei paused. "Remember the oath."

"I am tired. I have no wish to re-argue a moot point."

"Then give me my orders."

"Yes, yes. Of course. Your orders." Ephidel cleared his throat. "Anvad Rei, you will take this blade."

The assassin's body stiffened.

"You will take this blade to Ilia. There, just on the southeast border, you will find a small village where lives a man—a druid by the name of Canas—and his wife, a powerful sage. The woman will be your primary target. However, Anvad," he added, almost as an afterthought, "if the druid poses any resistance, you will not hesitate to take him down as well."

Rei opened his mouth and shut it again, clenching his teeth with considerable effort.

...Her face appeared before him in his mind's eye. Exactly as he had last seen it. Happy. Carefree. Blue eyes dancing with joy as he promised to stay near her always.

He set his jaw. The Angel of Death would fulfill at least half of his oath to the girl he loved. He would protect her, with his life.

Such as it was, anyway.

He reached out his hand for the dark blade and heard himself respond.

"I have received my orders. I will do my duty."

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