Author Notes:
-Italic is used for flashbacks and dreams.
-I had to edit the part between the battle preparations and the battle itself, because the formatting didn't come out as I expected it would. Hopefully it will be much clearer now, albeit I'm not satisfied with having to use an horizontal line to split up the story (Edit 2: I changed the formatting of the chapter's notes to hopefully make everything more readable)
-I do not own Fire Emblem and do not make any profit from this story.

Chapter 1: New Demons

"No, I can't do this! I refuse to leave you to your deaths."
"You can, and you will. This is an order, soldier, not a request."
Cherche froze, taken aback by the commander's severe tone. The middle-aged man had always called her by her name and been friendly with her, just like with any of his troops. In return, he expected everyone to call him by his name, Delion. Despite this warm and gregarious demeanor, he was one of the most respected man in the Rosannian army, devoting his life to serve and protect his people. For him to speak in such a manner indicated he would hear no objection. The young woman recognized she wouldn't be able to change his mind and bit her tongue, however painful it was to her.
"Good. I expect to find you on the walls by the time our men are done with our last preparations."
"Yes, Commander!" She saluted and took her leave. As she moved away, she noticed a robbed man entering the office, a red tome in his hands.

"You seem distracted, Cherche." A familiar voice reached the young woman's ears, tearing her away from her thoughts. She didn't need to turn her head to recognize it, it belonged to Delion. The man's voice was much warmer than it was an hour ago however, she noticed.

"You know full well what is on my mind, Delion," she replied, her gaze directed to the vast plains below them. Rosanne, albeit small, was a most prosperous country, relying on its agriculture and naval trade to flourish. That was until the Valmese invasion occurred, of course: in front of Castle Virion's ramparts, domain of the ruler of the country, was approaching the army of the Conqueror. Originally a small country, Valm quickly rose to power under the command of Walhart, relentlessly conquering his neighbors and said to aim for the subjugation of the world. While Cherche would have usually dismissed such tales as folks exaggerated rumors, the colossal army massing in front of them proved they might just have the means to do so.
Only two hundred soldiers remained to defend the castle. All volunteers, they had for mission to buy as much time as possible for the rest of the people to flee the country. Led by Virion, they seized every ship available several days ago to prepare an exodus to Ylisse, the continent across the ocean. She tried to avoid overthinking it, focusing on the army while numbing her mind. Most people nearby were familiar figures, with whom she trained for more than ten years. And yet, every single soldier left behind was fully prepared to die, sacrificing their lives to protect their people.

"We spoke about it, Cherche. Rosanne needs someone to report to its lord once we fall," Delion finally replied.

She knew better than to argue. Being the sole wyvern rider of the country, courtesy of her trip inside Wyvern Valley a dozen of years ago, only her would now be able to reach Virion with all the ships gone from Rosanne. Still, her frustration was steadily rising: she despised the Valmese for taking her home and family, and her orders for making her abandon her friends. Most of all, she was angry with herself for being so powerless.

The man kept speaking, seemingly unphased by the woman's silence. "Two hundred deaths to save the lives of thousands. Sounds like a damn fine trade to me." He dropped that line almost casually, in a matter-of-fact way. Too casual, she thought. She snapped, abruptly turning to her commander.

"I'm fully aware of what is expected of me. I'll carry out my orders, but don't expect me to like it one bit."

"You are looking at it the wrong way." The man paused, letting the words settle in. Far from soothing her, the statement only further irritated Cherche. She knew the commander was attempting to comfort her, and it didn't please her one bit. She would have much rather preferred being left alone to numb herself. Needless conversation would only deepen the wound left when the time of the separation came.

"Please, Delion… Don't patronize me. You know me too well to expect me to fall for this."

"Far from me that idea, Cherche. In fact, I was hoping I could ask you a favor. Once you're done with your mission, I can count on you to make Walhart pay, right?" A small confident smile now played on the man's face. She had to admit the man knew her far too well: having been her mentor since she was ten, Delion quickly became a second fatherly figure. She couldn't help but smirk in answer, relieved by the man's words.

"Do you even need to ask?"

The commander shrugged, then moving his eyes to the approaching army as he placed his hands on the ramparts. "No, I suppose not." He seemed contemplative for a moment, but soon resumed his speech. "I heard Minerva turned twenty yesterday. How long have you been together now, ten years?"

The woman smiled at her dear friend mention, a small blush creeping upon her cheeks. The wyvern fidgeted below them, too massive to fit on the wall to help the defenders. Several bags were strapped to her saddle, containing her belongings and the necessary supplies for the travel.
"Eleven, in fact. I got her an entire goat for her birthday."

"Oh, right. I imagine she was thrilled about that."

"Hee hee! That's one of her favorite meals. You should have seen her jumping around in her enclosure, just like back when she was still my baby." The wyvern was without a doubt a doubt the closest friend of the woman. More than a pet, she considered her as a sister and the creature answered in kind, despite its monstrous appearance.

"Good, good… Make sure to take care of her, alright? It's a fine beast." The tone was melancholic, revealing faint hints of regret. She suddenly felt guilty for her previous outbursts, complaining about having to live while all the soldiers around were expected to die.

"She's the one that take care of me, Commander. And I promise to live and avenge everyone, so make sure to watch over me, from wherever you will be." She extended her arm forward, her palm opened. The man hesitated for a split second, considering the gesture offered by the knight before answering in kind. Reaching for her wrist, he grabbed it by his hand as the woman did likewise. It was a traditional Rosannian salute, a symbol of profound respect between people about to say farewell.

"Attagirl." He eventually released his grasp, the woman following his example. "Well, we still have a battle on our hands. Let's take down as many of them as we can, it might just make the job easier for you later."

She returned a silent nod in answer, returning her attention to the approaching army. They would be busy before long.

It wasn't even close. Not only the enemy outnumbered the Rosannian troops by fifty to one, each of them proved to be trained enough to be more than a match for the average soldier. While the castle offered some protection against the downpour of arrows and magic thrown their way, countless siege ladders soon found their way against the walls. Steadily climbed by the assailants, there seemed to be no end to them: strike down one of them and three took his place. The defenders fought with a strength only desperation could offer, but Cherche could notice their numbers inexorably being reduced. She lowered her axe as she struck down one of the Valmese soldiers, his corpse now adorning the wall like so many did before him. The bodies of the dead and injured soldiers made any movement on the fortifications difficult and risky, one false move being more than likely to result in an untimely death. She could feel the exhaustion in her entire body, they had probably been under attack for a couple of hours now. She was panting, out of breath, barely able to lift her axe anymore. Misery quickly overtook her body, there was no simply no end to them.

"Gods… please give us strength." A sudden unknown feeling coursed through her body, that her brain took a couple of seconds to register as pain. She lowered her head to find the source: from behind, a spear had found its way through her left shoulder, the bloodied tip now showing on the other side of her body. A cry of pain escaped her lips as the weapon was forcefully pulled out of her. In a fleeting moment of lucidity, she spotted Delion cutting through her aggressor, holding his blood-stained sword with both hands.

"Go! I gave the order, you need to leave now!" The whole situation felt surreal. Clutching her shoulder with her right hand, barely keeping hold of her axe, she looked to the court below them. Only two living figures were there. The robbed mage she encountered in Delion's office a few years ago was running towards the oil-filled storehouse, holding to his fire tome for dear life. Just right under her, Minerva was shrieking, ready to take off in the instant. Unable to muster the strength to answer Delion, she hastily nodded in his direction and jumped from the wall. The wyvern was quick to meet her, which lowered her pain as she unceremoniously landed on the creature's back. She barely had the time to put away her axe next to the saddle before she held on onto her friend, able only to keep her eyes open as Minerva darted away from the castle. A loud explosion suddenly blew the storehouse apart, quickly followed by yell of pains as flames steadily progressed through the keep. It had been Delion last orders: if they couldn't enjoy their country anymore, then neither would the enemy. Tears of pain raced down her cheeks as the cries of agony withered with the distance. Keeping her eyes open was an ordeal as her vision became blurrier by the second, her consciousness quickly fading. Suddenly, her surroundings went black as she slumped onto the wyvern, the burning castle was the last image her mind picked up as she succumbed to the exhaustion.

Hey again, I know I said I'd release this chapter next Sunday but I felt somewhat inspired. Having people read and follow the story, which I didn't really expect when publishing the prologue, made me more excited than I thought I would so I was actually quite eager to write more. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter too, the next one will come either this Sunday or the next one, depending on how busy I will be. Pretty grim stuff story wise so far, but Cherche should meet the Shepherds before too long. Perhaps the story will take a lighter tone then, who knows? Surely not me, heh. Have a good one, folks!