Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit and fan-based work of fiction not affiliated with the original product. Fire Emblem is owned and created by Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. Please support the official release.

Story Notes: There may be some scenes and themes that are disturbing to some readers. Please be advised. The following story is both a novelization and Alternate Universe Fic based on both the source material games and supplementary materials. There are changes to the universe, characters, abilities, and plot for the narrative written. This fanfiction will be updated every Monday until further notice. For more information, thoughts, and updates, please head to my main profile on and the Author's Notes at the bottom. Please enjoy the story.

Update #1: Some grammar fixed, and replaced some em dashes with commas to remove emphasis. Additional sentences were added to elongate and refine the chapter.

Prologue

"If death were to come by the morrow, would you take its hand with the acceptance of what's to come, or would you rather take the life granted to you by the gods to see the darkness through methods that you decided upon?"

"How about we don't talk about something as morbid as we'll die by the morrow, and instead focus on something else. No offense, but the only things you have been talking about for the last hour are whether or not we'll see next daylight, and the best methods to bring one's life to its inevitable fate."

Anri shrugged as his younger brother—Marcelus the Younger, his namesake being that of their father—simply lounged about, ironically ignoring his own advice as the thirteen-year-old boy simply tried to sleep away the job they were on.

The elder brother of two summers would've scowled at him if not for the fact that the younger was in a bad enough mood to do physical harm if pushed hard enough. It had been a hard day beforehand, and the fact they were stuck here in what is a suicide mission didn't help nobody.

Still, both understood that they were chosen for this scouting mission by the military governor—Bryan of Lefcandith, the younger brother of the lord of said fiefdom—was thanks to the two brothers growing up in the region during their childhood in the villages southwards.

Even other members of the Archanean army from the islands failed to understand the terrain as they did and as such the two were, without complaint from anyone but Marcelus, sent to act as reconnaissance to make sure the enemy army wasn't coming straight for them.

They all knew there was to be a siege to come, but so long as they could prepare for a defensive battle was the commander confident in the ability to hold the colony of Gra from the invaders from the Dolhr Empire.

Anri, although felt similarly earlier, began to realize such a belief was shrouded in human failure as the duo soon discovered the enemy forces after a day of scouting.

They believed they had discovered the main bulk of the army initially and went on to write down their findings. It only took three hours for the parchment they wrote upon to be burnt to soot as they learned of their mistake when the actual main force joined up with the vanguard they found.

The Altean Islands—with a total population of eighty thousand men and women in terms of native descendants, and thirty thousand mainlanders—could muster a levy of twenty thousand in the worst of times compared to the mainland of the Holy Kingdom of Archanea, which raised armies of one hundred thousand during the conquests of King Jakobin a century earlier to the eastern coast.

In contrast with the advancing army, they had about five thousand standing men as of that day, and the Dolhrians seemed to have brought with them a vanguard of ten thousand, followed up by a main force of thirty thousand.

Knowing that the majority were still stationed in the recently capitulated capital city of Pales, it was obvious that there was no hope in any reinforcements to help defend the islands as the last news from the mainland was that the royal family and the sixty thousand soldiers were hoping to find refuge in the northern colony of Aurelis.

Marcelus, upon hearing of the news, was less surprised and more apathetic about the entire affair as always. Despite his complaints about his brother's fatalism, he himself was no better and sometimes spoke the same flowery language Anri rambled about with.

Still, Marcelus did have a problem with the tone of conversation between the two, and decided to start a new topic to bring their minds to ease, or at least keep the topic from shifting back into death and misery.

"How about the beauty, Fiora, that you're courting," began him. "I know the two of you have been sneaking out to each other in the night despite warnings by the elders. How far from now to then will it be until I see nephews and nieces about?"

"Never," bitterly admitted Anri. "It seems she was involved in a local dance in one of the neighboring villages, and got the favor the chief's son. It doesn't help that when the wine came out did she supposedly drink and lost the ability to recall, yet I remember her lacking the ability to be fazed by the drinks of the mind."

"Oh… I guess I shouldn't have brought her up," muttered Marcelus. Instead of moping about, Anri seemed to perk up shortly after, meaning at the very least the concept of their eventual demise was not the forefront of his thoughts.

"What about you? Haven't you been desiring a wife for yourself? I mean, you've been born for thirteen summers and one spring, and yet you already desire that which you really shouldn't be thinking of until my age."

"Well, things have yet to go my way so far," said Marcelus. "I tried to take out Laria to a local dance, yet she only smacked me on the left cheek when I attempted to bring her to myself. I guess I should've seen it coming; she has something with Marcus I recall."

"You tried to seduce a girl who's marrying a mainlander?" Anri's face turned from a solemn frown and into the worst looking smile Marcelus has ever seen in his life. "Little brother, you are simply a young sparrow competing with the proud lions. Don't expect the advantage of flight to outlast or compete with the sheer elegance of their manes."

"Well, I know now, but back then I thought she was interested…"

A small chuckle emerged from the lips of Anri, and Marcelus could only do the same. "I guess neither of us are any good in the game of love," admitted Anri.

Deciding that their conversation before the eventual conflict would be better off in the colonial settlement, the two brothers mounted their steeds they rode off in, and set off to the town westward by a couple hours.

Entering the forest to disguise themselves from the peering eyes of enemy soldiers, the two brothers kept quiet in the hopes that any scouting parties sent by the Dolhrians to not recognize nor hear them.

The horses instinctively dodged the trees, and although they lacked the speed and grace of a mainlander stallion, they all had agility and maneuverability, allowing them to dodge nimbly the incoming trunks of great oaks.

It did not stop Marcelus nor Anri from hitting a few branches on the way—something they had yet to get a hold of as they only started as cavalry soldiers for a month or so. They desired to become members of the equites in Archanea, which would allow them to become citizens in the major holds with all the benefits of one birthed on the mainland.

Of course, that level of military standing was that of such difficulty that majority of Archaneans themselves never reached that point in their careers for the state, instead going for less ambitious positions in the army as they had more to life than the sword compared to the foreign Altean brothers.

But it was a dream instilled in them by the stories of many who moved to Pales before the war began, living their lives in rather luxurious conditions compared to the bogged down villages of the Altean Islands.

Well, supposedly it was like that. It was also known such cities were great centers of disease during plagues, but they also agreed upon when taking up the ambition that their current situation was no better anyways, and that they should die with a few more coins in their pockets anyhow.

As they continued onwards to the town, Marcelus suddenly became tense. Anri turned to him to figure out what was wrong before hearing the exact same thing his younger brother had heard moments ago.

Before long did a javelin become lodged in the trunk of a nearby tree, prompting the two to unsheathe their blades from their hips, and steer their mounts towards the incoming cavalry.

"Damn it all," spat out Anri as he adjusted him for combat. He rode for the riders to intercept with his younger brother to follow suit, the two of them dealing with a group twice their number.

Anri dealt with one of the four immediately with a slash to the neck, cutting through his windpipe which caused blood to splutter out of his mouth, choking the man to death faster than he could bleed.

Two of the horsemen engaged the elder brother, leaving Marcelus with one person to do battle with. His own sword arm was no match for other men or his brother given his age, but he was more than willing to gain victory.

Upon locking swords with the man did he grab the head of his opponent. The man tried to shake him off, but Marcelus kicked at the head of his horse, forcing him to grab onto the beast to avoid falling off.

Prodding his thumb to his eye, the young boy pushed with all his might, creating a mighty scream out of the man as blood poured down his arm. Not paying attention to the sword fight, the man was felled with a swift stab through the chest, the weapon piercing through the mail armor with some difficulty.

The necessary force to impale the man, however, was more than enough to push it far enough to lodge the sword in the enemy's body. As Marcelus tried to bring the sword out, a slash by a new soldier hit him in the back.

His own mail did its work and protected him from certain death, but the strike was enough to knock him off his mount and possibly break a rib from the back, causing enormous pain to the young child.

Anri—who was horrified upon seeing his brother—was still dealing with one final opponent before it became clear that they were now surrounded by three more men.

Quickly did he defeated his enemy with a blow to the skull before jumping off his mount, and slashing as one of the enemy horses, causing the rider to fall onto a rock, concussing the man.

Marcelus, still in the fight, managed finally to dislodge his blade, and hacked at the fallen man with all his strength left in him. Anri kept the remaining two at bay while his younger brother got his footing, but soon realized it was difficult for him to stand.

Anri had to admit the helmet he wore saved him as much as the mail saved his brother, but the blow from an axe to the head was enough to knock the fifteen-year-old to the ground. He clutched his head as he felt blood pour down slowly.

Things became somewhat blurry as he tried to keep his footing. He swore he saw Marcelus engage one of the men and take him out by grabbing him off his horse, but his vision was still recovering as the enemy missed his attack on him.

Trying to dodge the incoming attacks, Anri slashed in the direction of the soldier. The horse he rode upon went on its rear legs to avoid the slash, allowing Marcelus to once again knock down the soldier with a swing of his weapon.

Now with an opportunity in sight, the two brothers silently worked together and hurled both of their blades at the man. To the later's credit, he managed to deflect most of the blows, but he no great warrior and was eventually ripped apart by the two children, flesh being mangled off by iron sharpened in the town.

Both panted as they realized the fight was over, but also fell onto their knees in pain from their respective injuries. Although Marcelus felt more immediate pain, he soon recognized Anri took a far worse blow and took off the helm.

His right temple was split open slightly, somehow now opening fully from the attack by the axe-wielder. He ripped off cloth from one of the deceased soldier and patched up his brother, the blood sticking to the newly added wool.

"Dear Naga!" cried out Marcelus. "How the living hell did we survive that?" Anri stayed silent, stilling trying to catch his bearings. The two remained still as they nearly fell upon the many bodies of their deceased friends, avoiding the dead with a passion.

"We have to get out of here now. Before their friends become wary of what happened." The brothers attempted to walk towards their horses, but one of the beasts fled during combat, leaving only one mount left for two injured and possibly crippled boys.

"I really shouldn't have let you join the fight with me," Anri spoke sadly. Marcelus kept quiet as the two attempted to get onto the horses, but Marcelus struggled to even extend his legs thanks to the injury sustained in fight.

Then they suddenly turned behind them where a large detachment of horses came barreling towards them. They all were from Dolhr and many seemed angered at their actions, their faces full of contempt for the children who humiliated their allies.

The only thing Anri saw in his stupor was one of the men jumping off and whacking Marcelus in the face, knowing out the younger boy. Before he knew it, one of them ran up for him and slammed his foot to his bleeding temple.

Author's Notes: I have written Fire Emblem fanfiction in the past and many of you know if you followed me back then that I personally had issues with updating. Namely, I updated the wrong thing. Instead of new chapters, I consistently rewrote them. As such, I personally told myself I would only change things if the context made little to no sense or there are very apparent grammar issues.

As for the story, this chapter is mostly set-up for things to come. It has action, but many of the chapters will be more dialogue heavy. The amount of characters for the story will also be far less than actual Fire Emblem games as this is supposed to be the shortest of the possible series.

The Alteans here I based around those conquered by Rome and other empires of the period. They are the auxiliary and in history weren't seen as citizens or at least equal to Roman born men and women, but some soldiers were allowed to be legally citizens after many years of service. Here, they don't have that issue of being citizens, but they aren't equal to Archanean born men and women, so the military is a good area to raise one's social status.

The chapter is fairly short, but the later chapters should be far longer. All opinions on my work—positive or not—would be appreciated in the comments and reviews. For those who took the time of day to read my story, I thank you.