Uhm, I rewrote this chapter too, because I felt it needed some touching-up, as well. Ironically, I didn't really grammar-check it at all, but I think I have moderately good grammar, so that should be okay.
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Chapter 2: The Princess of Bern
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Waking up that morning, Miledy had stretched her arms, a smile finding its' way onto her face.
She would be taking the Princess back to the Bernese capital. Despite the distance between Castle Martel, the castle she was currently relaxing in, and the Bernese Capital, she had her wyvern, and she just felt positively energetic.
Changing into her red armor, classic of those who served Bern, she walked out of her room, all her belongings, those being a lance and a few miscellaneous items for the trip back to the capital.
She walked out through the hallways, and out the gate.
A soldier rushed up to her, saluting.
"At ease," she calmly said. "What's the problem?"
"Captain Miledy, the Princess is missing!" he screamed, the urgency of the situation evident in his voice.
But does he have to yell so—Wait, what?! she thought. "What?! The Princess is missing? Where is the Lord, er, Rude?"
"I'll go and get him immediately!" He scurried off into the castle, leaving her rage to fester.
Soon, another soldier barreled out of the castle. "Where is the Princess?!" Miledy asked her. "And where is Lord Rude?"
"I don't know, Captain Miledy, she was in her quarters this morning," she said. "And his Lord Rude will be here shortly."
"Round up a search party, and—"
"Lady Miledy!" a portly, blue-haired man with a mustache called as he hustled out of the castle, stopping a few feet short of her, sweating on a level between moderate and profuse.
Ignoring the smell, and began to yell at him, each of his replies, to her, sounding more and more pathetic.
"What I'm asking," she barked at him, after several minutes of arguing, "is where the princess is!"
"Y-Yes Captain Miledy," he stuttered. "I'm certain she was in her room this morning..."
Stepping towards him, her hand dangerously close to her lance, she exasperatedly yelled, "I've heard that enough already! What I'm asking is where the Princess is, at this moment!"
He backed away from her. "She's... Er... She's..."
Taking a deep breath and holding her head with her hands, she continued, in a much calmer voice, "We're almost going to a head-on war with Lycia. What if something happens to the princess? Can you take responsibility?"
He shrunk in his large armor.
"I should never have let her Majesty come down to the border in the first place," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "I will go to the capital and inform the king about this matter. I'll try to keep it calm, but you must find the princess as soon as possible."
With all the courage he could muster, he saluted. "Yes ma'am!" he replied.
Nodding to him, she mounted the wyvern which had been brought to her at some point during the conversation, and rose into the air, flying off from the castle.
Watching the beast disappear, Rude grinned. "Is Princess Guinevere still with us?" he asked a soldier, without turning to look at him.
"Yes sir," the soldier replied, "she's under constant monitoring in the basement room."
"Good," the Knight said, evidently relieved. "Don't let her escape."
Nodding, the soldier turned to leave, but he hesitated. "Sir," he began, turning back to face the Knight's back, "are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Don't worry!" the Knight laxly replied. "Bern has plenty of enemies." He chuckled. "The younger sister of Bern... We'll be sure to get a hefty amount of gold from Etruria... maybe even Lycia."
The soldier was still hesitant, and it showed.
"We're not going to get anywhere by serving our country, anyway. So we're better off thinking of ways to make money fast, no?"
Apparently unconvinced, the soldier nodded, replying, "Yes, sir. But there is one little problem with that plan."
"Oh?" Rude inquired. "And what is that?"
"The reason I came out here, was because I had just received a report," he said. "It said that Princess Guinevere's assistant, that Prietess, has escaped."
Rude paused, as if the data given to him were incomprehensible. But slowly, his expression turned vengeful. "What?!" he roared, hurling his fist into the unprotected chin of the soldier, sending him flying several feet. "You fool! Why didn't you say this earlier? Go and search for her immediately!"
Barely lifting himself from the ground, he replied an almost inaudible, "Yes, sir," before jogging into the castle, holding his jaw soothingly, returning with an even forty men, some carrying axes, lances, bows, and even a few swords.
Rude glowered at the soldier that might cause his downfall.
-En Route to Bern-Lycia Border-
Mark looked skyward for a moment. The clear blue sky, the bright yellow sun... HE enjoyed the outdoors, so much in fact, that is was second, only to the indoors.
Heaving a moderately bored-sounding sigh, he retrieved a a book from under his green cloak, and began to jot down a bit of the journey so far.
'Joined Roy. Heading to... a village, the name of which escapes me, on the Lycia-Bern border, to meet up with some mercenaries, before heading off to Araphen. Side-note: There is a castle which Bern has control of to the east of said village.'
He shut it, and placed it back under to cloak. Looking back up and sighting a small group of buildings in the distance, with a lovely backdrop of mountains, and, behind the mountains, far I the distance, he made out a tall tower, most likely part of the castle.
Finally, a real bed, he thought, a smile spreading over his lips.
The remainder of the walk had gone uneventful, save for Mark salivating ever-more, as they advanced on the village.
"And, we're here," he cheerfully announced, as they stopped near the gate to the village, the scheduled meeting place.
"So this is where we're supposed to meet with the mercenaries?" Roy asked.
"Yes," Merlinus replied, "although it seems that they aren't here—"
Mark sighed loudly, interrupting the merchant. "Why can't people just be—"
He was cut off by a sharp elbow to the ribs, courtesy of the young Archer, Wolt. "Don't be so rude," the Archer murmured.
Mark narrowed his eyes at the boy, before elbowing him back, with equal strength. "Respect your elders," Mark replied.
"Oh," Merlinus said, distracting the pair from their staring match. "It looks like someone is coming here right now."
The woman in question was running towards them with all the speed she was able to muster, stopping breathlessly in front of them. The party studied her appearance. She had brown hair, fair skin, and wore a white dress, showing her rank in the Elimine Chruch's hierarchy. Held tightly in her right hand was a staff.
"Are you okay?" Roy asked.
Having regained a significant amount of her composure, she replied, very humbly and kindly, "Yes, I'm fine."
"It's good that you're not hurt."
Mark could not help but chuckle at that, obvious statement.
Her breath almost entirely back to normal, she looked Roy over. "You're from... Lycia, are you not?"
"Yes," Roy replied. "I am the son of the Marquess of Pherae."
"Oh," she murmured. "Dear God! I thank you for your guidance!"
Mark's eyes opened with that, and he took one, two, three steps back from the, as he considered her to be, hysterical woman. And he was not alone in the reaction. Roy had raised his eyebrows, and Merlinus looked somewhat taken aback.
"Please, could you help rescue my mistress?" she sheepishly asked, scarlet from the outburst.
"Well, I say we do it!" Mark valiantly said. "Roy, thoughts?"
"What happened?" Roy asked.
"My mistress and I were traveling," she began, "to meet someone, from the Lycia Alliance. However, while we were passing through here, we fell into a trap set by Rude, the lord of the castle to the east.
"We were captured," she continued, "but I was able to escape."
"Master Roy!" Merlinus piped up. "We must not yet get into any unnecessary entanglements with Bern!"
"But we cannot neglect a person who has come to the Alliance for help," Roy countered, a thoughtful look spread over his features.
"Second," Mark added, lazily moving to stand next to Roy.
"There they are!" The party in question turned to face the source of the yell: a skinny soldier with a javelin, poised to strike. "Hey guys, over here! It's the servant girl!" he hollered. "It doesn't matter if she's dead or alive!" he added maliciously.
"Uh," Mark said, biting his lip. "Sorry, Merlinus, it looks like we'll have to fight this one." He leaned over to the merchant. "I was on your side the whole time, though, I swear."
As Mark spoke to Merlinus Roy turned to Ellen. "Miss Ellen, please find somewhere safe to hide for now."
"No," she said, with force that Roy, despite how little he knew her, believed to be something she seldom exhibited, "I will accompany you. I cannot fight, but I can heal wounded allies."
"Oh, but—"
"We'd be overjoyed if you were to join us," Mark announced, before turning to the Cavaliers and Marcus, who soon charged to meet the foot-soldiers ahead.
Overhead, Mark could see a Pegasus Knight gliding through the air. No... Bern doesn't have Pegasus Knights... They use wyverns. So who does she work for? he wondered.
~West of Mark's Party-
"Hey, Dieck, who's our client this time?"
Dieck was a teal-haired Mercenary. He wore no shirt; only a blue, spiked shoulder-pad and brown pants, which tucked into boots. He turned to Ward, the man who had asked him the question. "The Pherae family, one the of Marquesses of Lycia. They're heading to join the Lycia Alliance."
"So we're going against Bern?"
Lot was an orange-haired, masculine man, who wore a dark green tunic and similarly colored pants that tucked into brown boots.
"That's what it looks like," Dieck replied.
"A worthy opponent!" Ward enthusiastically said, punching his fist. Ward wore all the same clothes as Lot, save for one difference: the color. While Lot favored green clothes and had orange hair, Ward enjoyed blue clothes, and had brown hair. "Time to show some skill, eh?"
A Pegasus Knight came into view, landing just in front of the trio. "I think I've found them!" the Pegasus Knight exclaimed. "But it looks like they're fighting someone down there."
"What? A battle's already started? Thany, you go and help them and tell them who we are, and we'll catch up."
"Alright," Thany replied, flying off west, followed by a sprinting Dieck, Lot and Ward.
Meeting up with the Lycia Alliance Army, Dieck introduced himself as the mercenary hired to Eliwood. Following that, they went east along the southern edge of several mountains, clashing with Bernese forces all along the route.
The mountains retreated as the group passed two forts, and they turned to head north, dealing with a rather large number of Mercenaries and Archers.
"And, that ahead, appears to be the leader," Mark told the group, as they gathered around him for instructions, after handling another twelve soldiers. "He's a Knight, but he has a Mercenary and an Archer next to him." Mark rattled off instructions to each of the surrounding units, who nodded.
Of course, the strategy had succeeded, the only damages being a few dents in Bors' armor. Roy had claimed the castle and entered it, Merlinus hustling behind him.
Mark had followed, turning to the group behind him, who were staring at him. "Um, come in, then," he said, turning and entering the castle, the party trailing behind him.
Shortly after Mark had entered, Merlinus, having left to secure the castle, returned. "Master Roy!" he yelled, as he advanced on the Pheraen. "We have rescued a lady trapped in a room in the basement."
Roy nodded. "That must be Ellen's mistress," he said. "Have her come here."
A blond-haired woman with similarly colored eyes, wearing a red dress walked in, and Merlinus stepped aside for her.
"Your Majesty!" a voice called. All eyes turned to the Priestess, Ellen, but she did not notice; she was too busy with the woman.
"Ellen!" the woman replied, with a smile. "Oh, are you alright? I never knew you would do such a brave thing for me... You had me worried."
"Well, I wanted to rescue you no matter what..."
Noting Ellen's reaction, she hastily said, "It is fine, Ellen."
Mark had just entered into the conversation. Wait. 'It is fine'? People don't say that. They say, 'It's fine'. What the hell? Oh, wait. Could she be a... noble?
"Thanks to you," she continued, "I am safe now."
Oh yeah, he mused. Definitely a noble.
"I am in your debt," the woman continued, this time speaking to Roy. "May I ask your name...?"
"I am Roy, Roy said, "son the Marquess Eliwood of Pherae."
"And I am—"
"Your Majesty, are you sure?" Ellen asked.
Mark snorted. Way to keep the secret, Ellen.
"It is all right, Ellen. My name is Guinevere," the woman said.
Oho! Called it, Mark mused, smiling at his intelligence.
"That the name of the Princess of Bern," Roy mused, as though he were unable to put all the pieces together, those pieces being Ellen referring to the woman as 'Your Majesty', the aristocratic manner in which she walked, and the fact that she and the Princess of Bern shared a name.
"Oh, Roy, Roy, Roy," Mark said, putting a hand on the young Lord's shoulder. "You have a lot to learn, my friend. This, is the princess. As in, the real deal. Like, the King's sister."
Furrowing his brow, he looked up at her. "You are the Princess of Bern?"
"Yes. Although, I am not sure you believe me."
"Even if you are not the princess, I can tell from your actions and dress that you are certainly someone of high social status," Roy said.
"Or," Mark grumbled, "you could just rely on your friendly neighborhood tactician, who just dishes out loads of helpful advice. You could do that."
"But if you are indeed Princess Guinevere, one thing does not seem right," Roy said. "Ellen told me you intended to meet with someone from the Lycia Alliance."
"Yes, that is correct."
"Why, then, would you do that if you are the princess of an enemy nation?"
"I want to find a peaceful way to end this war," she said. "I figured if I could speak with someone from Lycia, I could find some solution."
"Bad idea. Most people, and, perhaps even ourselves, would take you hostage and use you as leverage to bargain for their safety or something. Personally, I would ask for some truffles. Have you ever had truffles? They're fantastic."
Tabling the discussion of truffles, and other chocolate confections, Roy replied, "Your brotehr started this war. Is it in your power to stop it?"
Knowing something of the rank between a Princess and a King, Mark also knew that unless she had some serious leverage, she would have no chance of ending the war.
"I certainly wish to stop it... No, it must be stopped."
"Way to avoid the question," Mark muttered.
"I see," Roy replied. "Then would you like to accompany us to the Lycia Alliance Army. I'd like to meet with Lord Hector to discuss this matter."
"Oh, because Mark certainly isn't important enough," Mark sarcastically muttered.
"Honestly... You will take me?"
"Yes," Roy said. "If there is a possibility to avoid bloodshed, and end this war, then we must try it, no matter how small the chance."
"Roy, could I speak to you for a moment?" Mark asked.
Roy turned, and nodded, leaving the room, and walking into the hallway. They walked for a few minutes in silence. "Er, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Roy asked.
"What? Oh, that. I just wanted to know what your thinking was on taking in a valuable hostage as a friend. Most in your situation would trade her for safety, or money."
"She wants to find a peaceful way to end this war. I believe that we should seek that end."
Mark turned and looked Roy in the eye. "Buddy," he said, "there is no way—no, possible way—that this war will end without some massive battles. Surely you know that."
"I don't agree with that," Roy resolutely replied, turning, and walking away from Mark.
Mark sighed. "Tisk-tisk, Roy," he murmured as he, too, walked back to the party. "Clinging to hopeless dreams isn't the smartest thing to do in the world, however admirable."
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I wrote that for three hours straight, and, may I say that it is PAINFUL. So, if you would be so kind as to, I dunno, Review in exchange for my pain. I mean, this is 3000+ words, people.