Disclaimer:I do not own Fire Emblem: Seima no Kouseki, or any characters used thus far.


The sky is dark, no moon, few stars. It is too overcast for stars. It reminds me of how alone I am right now. How truly devoid of life the land around me is. Truly this is one of the most desolate places in Grado, and now it holds new meaning for me. Many faithful knights died here, shedding their blood do I might live. Men who I have known for years are lost, some of them younger then I.

I can't help but wonder how many did not want to die. I know many of them would want no other death then for their country, but some- couldn't some have wanted to live longer? How many of the men who died wanted nothing more then to live their lives in peace? I know I should not dwell on this, there is much to do, but my mind always comes back to those who have died.

Maybe I should focus on the living. Three men made it through the slaughter: Forde, a solid knight, if not lazy, and slack at times; Kyle, a man after General Seth's own heart, and meddle; and Orson, a dear friend of Renais, and loyal to his bones. I know I could be in no better company tonight as we prepare to move on Grado Keep. I pray for my sister, and my father. I pray that they are safe, especially my sister, because she is part of me. She is my other half. I pray you are safe most of all Eirika.


Franz bit his lips, and glanced and Seth. The older knight had been pacing, frowning, and cursing very softly under his breath since supper. Ephraim should have been back hours ago, and not even one of the three riders had returned. Sundown was approaching fast, and Seth's face was growing darker with each moment. Mrryh stood beside Franz searching anxiously for and sign of a rider.

"General Seth," Duessel swung down from his massive draft, and looked just as grim and Seth. "You have seen nothing?"

"No," Seth answered shortly, his face vexed, and dark. "I believe it is time for us to look for them. I do not want to believe anything has happened, but it has been too long." Franz felt his heart jump, and he knew it was just as much for Ephraim, as his brother. Maybe more for his brother. He didn't know whether he should be ashamed he was more anxious for his brother then his lord. He heard Mrryh make a small noise of fear, and stare around her with large eyes.

"General Duessel, would you lead a party to search for them? You know the country side better then anyone else here." Seth was still tense, angry at himself no doubt. He should have gone with Ephraim himself, or that was how he was condemning himself, Franz knew.

Duessel sighed, closing his eyes in meditation. "I will lead a party, but only a few. I believe I know where he would go to see the land, and that is where we will look first." Seth nodded, and Franz bit back the words springing into his mouth. He contemplated them for a moment, and then let them spring through his lips.

"General Seth," Franz bowed quickly, but carefully. "I ask to go with the party to find Prince Ephraim." Franz paled slightly, knowing Seth would be stepping over no lines to chastise him for speaking so.

"You ride the bay mare, do you not?" Duessel asked, weighing Franz as he stood. Franz resisted the urge to fidget under the man's gaze.

Franz nodded immediately, "Yes sir." He knew it was odd for a knight to ride a mare, and a stringy one at that. He was fond of the mare, though, as his brother was of his chestnut.

"We go not to fight, but to find. If it is acceptable I would like this young knight to come with me," Duessel said, nodding to himself.

Seth nodded as well. "I think that would be acceptable. Franz," Seth turned to the knight, who bowed quickly. "go saddle your mare, and be ready to ride when General Duessel tells you."

"Yes sir!" Franz didn't smile, but he felt a shaming amount of pride. He bowed again before leaving the two Generals to further plan the expedition. Franz trotted to the corral, only stopping to grab his lance from his tent. His sword he carried with him always, but his lance was of little use on the ground for him. Franz quickly caught his mare by her rope halter, and began tacking her.

She stood ready at his command, a little vexed she was being ridden so late-if her ears were any indication-but grudgingly stood for a quick rub over where the saddle would sit, and then the tacking up. Franz didn't notice Mrryh watching him with oddly bright eyes until he was testing the girths tightness.

"Sir Franz," Mrryh began, pausing when Franz jumped. "I-I'm sorry, but, do you think Prince Ephraim, do you think he's been harmed?" She nibbled on her lower lip, and glanced around nervously.

Franz paused, what did he think? He had no idea what held up the three scouting, but he knew they would have been back on time if things had gone well. "I do not know Mrryh, but I do not want to think Prince Ephraim has been harmed by any of this." Franz dodged around the question, unwilling to tell Mrryh it was very likely. What else would be keeping them hours after they were supposed to be back? If it had bene only his brother Franz would have only begun to worry if his horse came back alone, and then only slightly.

This was different Kyle, and Ephraim were missing along with his brother, and Kyle never lost track of time, or his horse. Seth's stallion would not let Ephraim lose track of him, and though Ephraim often got very involved in his work he would never have been this late. Never in enemy territory, where anything could happen. Franz stroke his mares neck in a lifetime old action of comfort for him and the horse.

"I did not know anyone else would be ready yet," Lute said suddenly from over her horses back. "I assumed more riders would be coming, but I did not know they would be ready."

Franz jumped again, and startled his mare. She tossed her head, and snorted. Franz quickly caught her head, and calmed her before answering Lute. "I was with General Seth when he decided it was time to look or Prince Ephraim," Franz explained, rubbing his mare's head.

"Ah, that would explain it." Lute nodded, and looked absently at the saddle in her hands. Her wall-eyed gelding sorted at her, and gave her a small shove. Franz hid his smile by securing his lance to his saddle, and checking his mare's legs again. How Lute managed to keep any horse in line, even one as biddable as her 'Wall-eye' was a mystery to him.

L'arachel joined them, claiming things for 'glory of the light', and Dozla came with her, laughing, and agreeing with her. Duessel appeared next, leading his horse, and examining his picks. Franz stood at his horses head, ready to mount and ride off. Lute tugged at her girth, and let a bland look slide over Duessel. she was not impressed by much. L'arachel was busying herself with stroking her horses head while Dozla tacked the horse up.

"We are riding in search of Prince Ephraim, and two knights of Renais. We are in enemy territory, and anything is possible. There could be an ambush waiting for us, and if there should be someone must return and tell what has befallen us," Duessel began his talk harshly, reminding the people in front of him firmly this was nothing to trifle with. Franz pulse quickened. "We ride quickly, and quietly. Our goal is to find our lost comrades, and that alone. Now mount, and keep silent, or we will meet Death."

Franz bowed once more, and swung easily into his saddle. He was only minorly surprised to see Colm scramble up on one of the pack horses. Colm sat uneasily in the saddle, the reins clenched uncertainly in his hands. They would need a sharp pair of eyes, especially if they were looking for bodies. Franz shook his head, and forced himself away from that thought. They were not dead. There was no reason to believe they were.

Duessel led the way out of camp, keeping Colm next to him. Franz tried his best to look calm. People had gathered to watch them leave, most of the camp knew by now that three people were missing. Franz tried his hardest to concentrate on riding easily, looking out, and every other thing a knight was supposed to do, but his stomach was a knot of hard, sick worry.

Franz glanced uneasily at the dark forest, and urged his mare faster. The small group moved at a steady trot. Duessel said he knew where Ephraim would go, and He set his course for that place. A few moments ago they had passed shockingly close the Grado Keep, making Franz hair stand on end, but so far there had been nothing to see in the deepening twilight but trees and night birds.

Duessel slowed their pace, and Colm said something softly to the general. Duessel eased his axe, and Lute held a tome of magic ready. Franz nervously loosened his sword, and brought his mare closer to Duessel. Duessel pushed his horse forward again, and they came upon a scene that made Franz's heart stop. Two horses stood in the clearing, one a slim mare, and the other a stocky war stallion. Two people lay sprawled on either side of the faint trail.

Franz gripped his reins tightly, and strained to see the figures in the ditches. His mouth was dry, but he knew who one must be. He knew it was his brother. He waited the long moments before Duessel nodded, and said to see to the two men. Franz what out of his saddle, and kneeling by his brother almost before the words came out of Duessel's mouth.

Forde looked alright, pale and scratched, but alive. Franz fumbled for a pulse, and relaxed. It was there, beating strong, if not quickly, against his hand. Franz breathed deeply, and smiled in relief. His brother was alive. L'arachel was soon kneeling next to him, checking Forde over.

"He seems fine, just like Sir Kyle, except for scratches, and his pulse is elevated." L'arachel frowned, and stood back up, petting her horse. "But where is Ephraim?"

Franz cursed himself silently. He had forgotten about Ephraim! His lord, he had forgotten about his lord! Franz stood, glancing around, and the horses caught his eye again. Kyle's stood with his head low, and his side heaving. Forde's staggered forward a drunken step, and stumbled almost to her knees. She heaved as well, her nostril's quivering with each breath.

With a blush Franz remembered his own horse, and turned to see Colm holding both the pack beast, and Franz's mare. Franz slowly moved towards his brother's horse, watching her carefully. The mare rolled her eyes, but didn't move. He caught he gently, and looked her over. Sweat, despite the cool weather, soaked her, and lather had formed between her legs, and under the saddle.

"It looks like Prince Ephraim is not here, with his men," Lute observed flatly from Wall-eye's back. "His horse is not here either." Franz nodded, and carefully urged Forde's mare to walk. She staggered again, and each step seemed dizzy. A drunken man could have done better then she was. What was wrong with her? Her limbs looked sound, and no injury was obvious.

"Something happened here." Duessel was on the ground, looking at the scuffed turf. It was turf churned by many hooves and feet. Franz looked down, his unease heightening. "These," Duessel pointed to one of the few clear hoofmarks, "are Grado cavalry horses. They have heavy shoes, and notches in three places." Duessel point to another mark. "This is a Renais cavalry horses mark, but too light to be carrying a mounted man."

"So what's happened?" Colm asked, peering at the ground. "And why is just Prince Ephraim gone?"

"I don't know, but..." Duessel stood again. "Colm, come with me. We'll search further. Lady L'arachel, Franz, and Lute stay here and see if you can't wake those two up." Duessel motioned towards the unconscious knights, and swung onto his horse. "Do not leave here, and keep a close watch Franz." Franz nodded, and saluted as well. Lute dismounted, and took Franz's horse from Colm, who wearily mounted again, and rode off with Duessel

"Now, let's try this." L'arachel pulled a staff from her saddle pouch, and walked over to Kyle. Franz sighed, and collected Kyle's stallion as well. The stallion staggered as well, nearly knocking Franz over, and not offering any of his normal 'playful' bites. Franz secured the two horses, and found Lute had finished doing the same to the two horses she held.

Franz sat down by his brother, and watched L'arachel preform various cures on Kyle. Franz checked his brother's pulse again, and found Forde's neck was slick with sweat. Franz smoothed his brother's sweat slicked hair from his face, and glanced to the two heaving horses. Dazed, that's what the horses were, but how?

Lute plucked and arrow from the ground, but the arrow had no head. Instead a loose cloth sack was attached to the end. Lute frowned, and sniffed the cloth. Her frown deepened, and she looked over at L'arachel. "You can stop trying to cure them. They won't wake up until the poison wears off."

"Poison?" L'arachel sounded puzzled, and Franz frantic. His brother had been poisoned? How, and what kind of poison? Franz mind scrambled over itself.

"What kind of poison Lute?" L'arachel asked, frowning at the mage.

"What kind? Kettlecock, or course. It causes complications in muscle coordination, and in large doses loss of consciousness," Lute explained with a thoughtful look on her face. "But this isn't just Kettlecock, it's something else a well. Kettlecock can be minorly explosive when mixed with certain other herbs, or when packed tightly together. If a tight pack of Kettlecock was tied to an arrow it could be used to spread the poison around a large area. It would knock out the people at the center of the explosion easily, if there was enough."

"Kettlecock?" L'arachel tapped her chin, and looked at her staff. "I've never heard of that."

Lute stopped short of rolling her eyes. "Kettlecock has many other names, but it is irrelevant now. The only thing to do is wait for the knights to regain consciousness. There is no antidote for Kettlecock."

Franz looked between Kyle and Forde nervously. "But they'll be okay once the poison wears off, won't they?"

"Of course, but Kettlecock does not effect the cardiovascular system, so something else is elevating their heart rates, which could cause later complications," Lute rambled on, picking up two more arrows with no heads, but cloth attached to them.

"Foxglove elevates the pulse," L'arachel said slowly. "Yes or course! I, the beautiful L'arachel have come up with the solution! Do not worry Young Franz, your brother and his fellow knight will face no permanent harm." Franz smiled wearily, but something else began bothering him. Something that twitched in the back of his mind.

"But if you are close enough to shoot poison, wouldn't you also be close enough to shoot real arrows?" Franz asked. He turned as two horses approached.

"Not if you want one of them alive," Duessel said, riding up again. His face was dark, and Franz hardly needed the words that came from the man's mouth to know what had happened. He knew what it meant to take a man alive, and why. "Prince Ephraim has been taken to Grado Keep."

Franz heart still skipped a beat when he heard it, and L'arachel gasped into her hands. Colm looked just as grave as Duessel for once. "The tracks lead to the Keep's entrance, and General Duessel and I are pretty sure that's where they took Prince Ephraim."

"Get the men up, and hurry, we have to return quickly." General Duessel swung off his horse, and L'arachel launched into an explanation of the men's state. Franz swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. They had let Prince Ephraim fall into Grado's hands, and now they had to get him back.


Ephraim had been very surprised to wake up slung painfully across the pommel of a saddle, and tied loosely. His first instinct had been to move, and find out where he was, but he had stayed still. It had been easy enough to fool the men into thinking he was unconscious still, since his own mind was clouded, and his limbs leadened. The hardest part had been slipping out of his bindings, and escaping from the cell he had been placed in.

Now Ephraim, covered in a stolen cloak, moved clumsily down the halls of Grado Keep, ducking in and out of servant's paths. The gravity of the situation had just caught up with him. He was practically weaponless, his Reginlief had been taken from him, as well as his belt dagger, and boot dagger. He still had one small dagger hidden in his sleeve, but it would do him little good if he had to fight.

The walls of Grado Keep seemed oppressive, and sinister. Night had fallen long ago, and most of the torches were unlit. Ephraim's heart was pounding, and sweat dripped off him despite the cold night air. He was shivering actually, and pulled the cloak close to him. He was slowly regaining control of his body, and slowly making his way out of Grado Keep. He was beginning to wonder if he could make it out before he was discovered missing.

Ephraim looked down another dark corridor, and hurried along it. He was almost sure this was the way out. This was a place in the Keep he was very unfamiliar with. He nearly stumbled into the light from a cracked door before he noticed it. Ephraim reeled back, and fell noisily against a wall. He cursed himself, and cautiously moved forward again. No alarm sounded from inside the room, but he could hear someone talking. Ephraim crept forward and peered carefully through the crack.

"But still, I have to wonder if I've really done the right thing. The right thing for Grado, for me, and, and for you... I suppose it is too late for second guesses. I have to be strong, and focus my mind on what is ahead of me. I have to believe I did make the right choice, and swallow whatever it brings my way." A hacking cough stopped the words, and Ephraim's mouth went dry.

Lyon sat on the floor, looking just to the right of the door, one hand over his mouth as he coughed. It was an awful cough that seemed to come from the depths of Lyon, and shook him hard. Ephraim acted on instinct, and stepped into the room. "Lyon.." Lyon's head jerked up, red flecking his lips.

"Ephraim!" Lyon sounded strained, and his eyes darted to the right of the door again, and Ephraim looked as well. He barely had time to duck the spear coming for his head, but the butt of the spear caught him in the stomach. His arms flew up, trying to save his head from a blow, but the force of the hit sent him off his feet, and rolling across the floor.

The Emperor of Grado swung his barbed lance again, aiming for Ephraim's head. Ephraim rolled back and scrambled to his feet. The next blow sent his staggering against a wall, cornered. Ephraim looked around desperately for some escape, but found none. Vigarde raised his lance again, preparing to gore Ephraim.

"Stop!" Lyon's amazingly strong command jerked Vigarde to a quick stop, and Lyon scrambled forward. "You are not to kill him, Father." Lyon came forward, one arm pressed to his stomach. He walked with a slight stagger, and knelt quickly by Ephraim. Lyon coughed hard, doubling his head to his knees. Blood slipped past his fingers, running down them. Ephraim glanced from Lyon, and stared at the eyes of Vigarde. Two empty eyes started at him, devoid of life.

"You can not kill him, not ever," It was no longer Lyon's voice, but a twisted parody of it. Rasping, and rattling in his friends throat the voice sent shivers through Ephraim. Blood ran from Lyon's mouth, down his fingers, and dripped on the floor. A demonic craze hazed one of Lyon's eyes, and the other, a blind eyes, was hidden in shadow. Ephraim's breath caught as he stared between the two monsters. The dead Emperor, and the hoarsely chuckling demon to his left.

"No, you can not die yet Ephraim, I need you yet."

A/N: Heya! Thank you for the reviews! They were very much appreciated, and now you have the next chapter. I'm gonna try to update this quickly, but I'm not sure how it will play out yet. Oh, and if you didn't know-tacksaddle, and bridle, so 'tacking' means putting stuff on yours horse. Kinda obscure term there, gomen. And please excuse my awful made up poison. Kettlecock is by no means real...

Okay, now you need to review, and tell me what I missed, what you liked, and stuff like that! Jaa ne!