Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem or its characters.
Shoutouts to YugianBushido for being the inspiration behind this fic. He streams on Twitch sometimes.
Anyways...
It had happened at the Water Temple.
They'd just succeed in preventing the Black Fang from assassinating Bern's crown prince, Zephiel. They knew the location of the Shrine of Seals. Things were looking good for the future of Elibe. Little did they know what fate had in store later that night.
They were settling down for the night in a town near Castle Bern, when their tactician, Mark, came around and told people to suit up; they were moving out to the Water Temple ASAP.
Naturally, his words were met with many groans. Sain merely shook his head and smiled.
"Ah, tis merely more time to admire the beauties of this army," he'd said. A mixture of amused chuckles and disappointed sighs greeted his words, but everyone got ready to depart regardless.
Upon their arrival at the Water Temple, Mark ordered half the army to stay behind at the entrance, in the event that the Black Fang tried to flank them.
With majority of the army left behind, those who went into the Water Temple had to be the elite of the elite. Including Mark and the three lords, fourteen people were chosen to storm the Water Temple, most notably Sain, Legault, Serra, Lucius, and Priscilla; all capable fighters.
Capable though they were their advance through the Water Temple was slow, what with the disappearing platforms and what not. More than once, people ended up trapped in the water, and were only saved from drowning by way of a flier's help.
Eventually, the team made their way to a center platform, one that seemed to not disappear under their feet in seconds.
Sain, being the one leading the charge, had just dispatched an enemy hero and looked back at the others. Only a few people were directly behind him, the rest still taking care of the reinforcements that had managed to slip past the bulk of the army at the entrance.
He consulted with the ones behind him, they being Legault, Serra, Lucius, and Priscilla, on whether to wait for the rest to catch up, or to press onwards. Serra was all for pressing onwards and taking all the glory for themselves, and no one really felt any desire to argue with her. It'd just end in a headache anyway.
Before they could advance any further, however, Sain noticed an enemy bishop on a platform near them holding a staff. A staff pointed at him. He began to tell one of the accompanying spell casters to take him out, but before he could utter a word, a red haze settled over him, blocking all of his senses.
A Berserk Staff. It causes the target to become engulfed in a fiery rage, causing them to lash out at friend and foe alike. Like most staves of its nature, a Berserk Staff could be easily countered with a Restore Staff. However, the three staff wielders near Sain at the time had only brought Heals and Mends, not a Restore to be found.
It was over almost as fast as it had started. Sure each of them was strong in their own rights, but Sain was the fastest and strongest of them. Lucius fell first, followed by Priscilla and then Serra. Legault lasted to longest out of all of them, his experience and natural fleet-footedness allowing him to evade Sain's attacks longer than the others had, but he too eventually fell.
Sain soon came to his senses, but when he did he was shocked to find his green armor painted red with blood. It hadn't been like that a minute ago, had it? He noticed that his sword and the ground around him were similarly stained. Then, he saw the corpses of his allies, of his friends, strewn carelessly on the ground.
Shocked, he looked from his sword back to his friends, and again, before noticing the bishop on the opposite platform for a second time, this time seeing the staff he was holding clearly.
As realization, and horror, dawned on Sain, the bishop got ready for a second Berserk, but was cut short when an arrow from afar pierced his neck, ending his life.
Sain never knew where the arrow came from, or who even shot it. After realizing what had happened, what he had done, he dismounted his mount and stared dazed at his fallen friends. Never before had he experienced such an emotion. Sure, death was certainly no stranger to war, even in their company some had fallen before, but this was something different. They had died by his hand. It was different than ending foes in combat, these were his friends, the ones who trusted Sain to fight by their side, and he had betrayed that trust by turning his sword against them.
The rest of the night passed in a blur for Sain, when looking back on the night years later, Sain couldn't remember any fine details. All he recalled was Mark coming up to him and telling him he wasn't to blame for what happened. Sain just ignored him. Had he'd been more aware, had he'd been a better knight, he wouldn't have gotten Berserked in the first place, and his friends would still be alive.
Sain began to distance himself from everyone and everyone happily left him to his own devices. Of course, no one wanted to converse with someone who'd killed their own friends.
Over the remaining weeks, Sain transformed from his laidback, flirtatious ways, into someone much more sullen and serious. He rarely spoke at all, and when he did it was always one or two words at a time.
In every battle following the tragic night in Bern, Sain fought with the ferocity of a thousand men, or so the legends say. He'd told himself that he had to make it up to the ones he slayed by ending all of this, the Black Fang, Nergal, everything. They had lost their lives for this cause, and Sain wasn't about to let their sacrifices go in vain.
Eventually, they reached the Dragon's Gate, and resolved to finish Nergal once and for all. During the final fight, Sain squared off against the Morph of Darin. The battle lasted all of thirty seconds, Sain quickly dispatching the late Marquess. He was about to move on when he noticed something strange. Unlike other Morphs, Darin's weapon didn't dissolve along with the body. Instead, it sat on the ground, ready to be picked up.
Sain did so, and when he did a name popped into his mind, a name that he shouldn't have known, but did anyway. "Rex Hasta…" He said quietly. He gripped the lance tightly as he was filled with determination. This would be the lance to strike Nergal down and end all of this.
When Nergal's chamber finally opened, Sain rushed ahead, ignoring any sort of direction that was being yelled at him. He urged his mount forwards until, finally, he laid eyes on the man.
A feeling of rage, different from the one on that night some weeks ago; yet the same, overcame Sain. This was the bastard that was the cause of this all! Because of him…
Sain shook his head clear. Nergal may be the man behind the Black Fang and all, but it was Sain that was the cause of what had happened. He couldn't go blaming his faults on others.
That being said, Sain was still determined to strike Nergal down. He engaged the man, after dealing with the two druids by his side. Nergal was, by far, the strongest enemy Sain had ever fought against. It took all his strength and concentration to avoid Nergal's dark magic.
The dual lasted for a while, but eventually Sain gained the upper hand and found an opportunity to plunge Rex Hasta deep into Nergal's abdomen. It was over… He had done it.
Perhaps he had jinxed everything by thinking that after beating Nergal. Now, here he was facing off against a dragon of all things. Still, he had a duty to fulfill, so he and the others readied themselves to face off against their ultimate enemy.
The battle was fairly one-sided, in the dragon's favor. The longer the fight went on, the more injuries people sustained. Eventually, everyone was incapacitated, unable to fight any further. Only Sain was still in any sort of fighting condition, but even he was panting and covered in numerous minor scratches and injuries. The dragon, on the other hand, seemed ready to continue for the next millennia.
Sain knew it was up to him. If he failed here, like he'd failed that night in Bern, the entire world would perish. He had but one shot at this, one chance to end all of this. He urged his mount towards the dragon, narrowly avoiding flames and claws alike. Once he got close enough, he tried to thrust Rex Hasta into the dragon, but its scaly hide proved too strong to penetrate.
Retreating to avoid a tail swipe from the dragon, Sain racked his head to come up with a way to defeat the dragon; each plan he came up with more desperate than the last. The dragon, noticing that Sain wasn't making another pass, started to advance; Sain was running out of time, he needed to act now.
Deciding to risk it all on a gambit, Sain charged forth, once again dodging the dragon's attacks. Right as he entered the dragon's biting range, Sain leapt off his horse and hit the ground, hard. He'd probably broken a bone or two, but his momentum caused him to slide underneath the dragon, where he had a nice view of its soft underbelly.
Unleashing a war cry, Sain thrust Rex Hasta forth with all his might, praying that this would work. The spear pierced the dragon's hide, causing it to bellow in pain and fury, but Sain wasn't done yet. He pulled Rex Hasta out and stabbed upwards again, repeating the process of stabbing the dragon multiple times.
Eventually, the dragon lost its vitality as its roars of pain became softer and softer. Sain gave one last thrust with Rex Hasta, before rolling from underneath the dragon. Not a second later, the dragon collapsed on the spot and lay there until it eventually faded away.
Sain got up slowly, feeling pain in his chest as he did. He had probably broken a few ribs in his fall. Regardless, Sain rose to his feet and made his way towards his horse. Once mounted, Sain wasted no time sticking around the battlefield. He spurred his horse towards the entrance and raced past the faces of his allies.
That was the last any of them ever saw of Sain, the knight from Caelin. He was nowhere to be found after everything was said and done, and he wasn't even on the boat when it departed from the Dread Isles for the last time, leaving some to believe that he was still on the island.
Not much is known about Sain after his showdown with the fire dragon. Some say he died on the Dread Isles. Some say he lives out the rest of his days there. Others say he somehow made it off the Isles and was performing numerous deeds across Elibe…
Sain sighed as the wind blew through his hair. Thirty years ago today, he slew the fire dragon. That didn't mean he'd finished repenting, though. No matter how long he lived, no matter how much good he did, it would never be enough.
He could try, though. He'd spent thirty years of his life going across Elibe and helping people in need. Whether it be dispatching some bandits, or helping someone pay off a debt, Sain readily hopped to the task. Nothing was above or below him.
He even considered joining up with the Lycian Army against Bern a few years back, but when he learned that the army's commander was Eliwood's son, he quickly decided against it. No, it was best to let everyone from his past think he was dead. Even when he'd gone around Elibe, he'd never given his name, merely opting for a smile whenever the question was asked.
Now, at the end of his life, Sain stood atop a mountain in Bern and reflected on his life. It'd been so long since the night in Bern all those years ago, but the feeling Sain felt when he gazed upon his friend's corpses was as ripe as if it had been yesterday.
In that moment, Sain knew that all he'd done in the past thirty years wasn't enough. He hadn't expected it to be. When he died, and it wouldn't be soon now, Sain knew exactly where he was going and exactly what was going to happen to him. And he knew that he deserved every second of it.
His last thought, as he sat down atop the mountain, was that perhaps his suffering would finally bring peace to the one's he'd slain all those years ago. And with that thought, Sain closed his eyes for the last time, and waited for the life to leave his body…