Nelgetha

Part four of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

Disclaimer: I do not own, or pretend to own, the Fire Emblem game series or any of its subsequent characters, plots or other ideas. That right belongs solely to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. The only thing here that's mine is the idea for the story, as well as the character Maeya.

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"The devil, depend upon it, can sometimes do a very gentlemanly thing."

-The Suicide Club, Robert Louis Stevenson

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There was silence for a moment or two, and Reyson took the opportunity to shift into a slightly more comfortable sitting position. He tried to ignore the throb in his right leg as best as possible—there was little he could do about that, after all.

The movement shifted his broken right wing, and he hissed involuntarily in pain, immediately twisting to try and relieve stress on the limb. Maeya gave a sympathetic cry and held out her hands imploringly. "Oh, don't move anymore...you'll make it worse. May...may I look at it for you?"

Reyson was not ready to admit that he understood her language yet—that was a secret he would save for an emergency. But she pantomimed her intent and pointed at his injured wing several times as she spoke, and with a hesitant, slow movement he nodded, giving her permission.

The woman smiled and scooted forward a few paces to the injured limb, and Reyson fought his instinctual need to flee. He was very particular about who he allowed to approach him closely—even more particular after his unfortunate incident with Oliver—and allowing even this good-intent Beorc close grated against his very instinct and reason. Even as he stayed put, his muscles quivered in anticipation of flight, and he watched the beorc with wary caution.

But Maeya was surprisingly gentle as she reached out for his broken wing, running her dexterous archer's fingers over the appendage carefully to assess the damage. Reyson had expected the clumsy touch of a beorc unaccustomed to the fine-boned structure of the wing, but this woman seemed adept at her examination, causing only the barest flickers of extra pain as she ran her fingers through his once-pristine white feathers.

"Oooh," she murmured sympathetically, as her careful hands located the main break, and Reyson flinched at the touch. "This looks bad...it must be so painful!" She turned to look at the prince's face, and said quickly, "I...think I need to make a splint for this. It's pretty bad. Just...just stay put, okay? Don't move, I'll be right back." She gestured at the ground several times, indicating that he should remain where he was, and he once again nodded slowly, warily.

Maeya skittered off into the woods quickly, and Reyson lost sight of her within moments. A grim look settled over his face. Had she gone to get reinforcements, now that she knew how damaged he was? He disliked the situation, but he was too exhausted to move anymore. If more enemies came, then they came; there was nothing more he could do to defend himself. Grimacing deeply, he settled back wearily against another tree trunk, falling slowly into a grateful doze.

The prince awoke a short time later to a soft crashing through the brush, and then a dragging noise just beside him. Blearily he opened his eyes, turning his head slightly to find the location of the sound.

Maeya was back, and amazingly enough to the heron, she was still alone. Tossed on the ground beside her was the origin of the unusual dragging noise—two long, sturdy sticks, already devoid of all their twigs and leaves.

The beorc woman spotted his gaze and gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you or anything. You must be exhausted...how long have you been hurt?"

Reyson did not answer, of course, and only watched her quietly as she removed a small vial from a pouch at her waist. She smiled at him reassuringly and began to measure the small branches against his injured limb, shaving them down with a small hunting knife until the size satisfied her.

"I used to take care of little birds in my garden back home, before we had to leave because of the war," she explained cheerfully, mostly to break the silence, for she still believed Reyson could not understand her. "Sometimes little sparrows would fall out of their nests and injure themselves, or sometimes a big storm would come by and knock them right out of the air. I learned how to treat the poor little things so they could fly again, so I think I understand how wings work pretty well. But," she added, with a rather sheepish smile, "I've never tended to a wing quite your size before, so I'm not sure if this will work...and I apologize in advance if this hurts."

The heron prince kept his expression as neutral as possible, fighting the throbbing shots of pain that flickered through his consciousness, and watched quietly. Maeya had now set the prepared branches aside and was tearing a cloth into strips with her knife, measuring their lengths carefully. After several minutes she nodded, pleased with her handiwork, and circled around behind him to approach his broken wing without kneeling on his feathers and accidentally pulling them free.

"Okay," she said softly under her breath. "Here we go..." And drawing one of the small branches close to her, she ran her fingers once more over the delicate bones of his right wing, located the break, and pressed the awkward angle back into its original position.

Reyson had been prepared for pain, but had not expected quite this level of agony. He gasped, arched his back, beat his left wing helplessly in reaction, and from his throat there echoed the same distressed hissing scream he had used earlier. His eyes watered and he clamped them shut, clenched his teeth to try and suppress his cries. He would not show weakness. He could not afford to.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Maeya yelped helplessly, but even as she apologized she worked quickly. The strength of her archer's arms held his broken limb in position, keeping the heron from injuring it further in his frantic distress, and her nimble fingers moved quickly, pressing the second small branch alongside the broken bone and binding the two into place. Her movements were efficient, and within the span of only a few minutes the wing was bound, firmly but not too tightly, and neatly set.

Reyson gasped and panted, his strength gone as he flopped weakly against the tree at his back. The pain jabbed through his every sense repeatedly, striking again and again like a viper's bite. But as he waited, rested, recovered from the ordeal, the pain slowly began to fade away, and he became aware instead of a cooling sensation in the broken limb causing him so much trouble.

Feebly the heron prince lifted himself enough to glance in the direction of the troublesome appendage. Maeya's handiwork was neat and efficient, and the broken bones were now forced firmly back into place. Even if he could not find a healer, the wing would heal naturally and correctly on its own. He could be flying in a matter of weeks.

Even more surprising, the laguz found, was that the beorc was now rubbing an ointment carefully into the broken skin—the origin of the cooling sensation. It was strangely comforting, and he found the pain melting away as she worked.

Maeya smiled cheerfully at him as he looked over, and held up the vial she had removed from her pouch earlier. "It's a healing ointment," she explained. "An old family recipe. It helps wounds heal faster, and I figured you could use it."

Summoning his strength together, Reyson murmured in his own Serenes language in response. "I do not understand why you do these things. I am your enemy."

But she did not understand, and only gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry," she answered. "I'm...not really sure what you're trying to tell me." She observed him and considered. "But you look exhausted. I bet that took a lot out of you...and I don't blame you! Why don't you take a break, and then I'll help you with your other injuries." Her eyes flickered to the shafts embedded in his shoulders with a grimace, and—Reyson couldn't be sure, his vision was so hazy, but—it seemed that she had a look of guilt on her face as well.

She moved to kneel in front of him again, and spoke to him cheerfully even as he drifted in a half doze, building his strength once more. The woman seemed quite at ease with him now, and chattered to him as if they were old friends, explaining in brief about herself. Her family had been simple farmers, tilling the land and selling their produce in a market near her old home. They had lived mostly in isolation at the base of the nearby mountains, until the war began; then soldiers would pass their farm day after day. When the advancing Crimean army began to come too close for comfort, her family had abandoned their farm and joined a large camp of refugees, which was apparently close by and growing daily.

"Anyone who knew how to use a weapon, and hadn't been recruited by the army, was asked to guard the refugee camp," she explained to her new companion. "I'd been hunting with a bow quite a bit, so they asked me to do some patrols. And to think, if I hadn't been recruited for that, we'd have never met! I don't think I could bear to miss meeting a...a laguz." She smiled proudly at the use of the word, and looked to the heron for approval.

Reyson was not entirely sure what to think of the woman now. She was clearly Daein by her own admission, and her companions would kill him on sight if they knew of him. But this beorc was friendly, had helped him despite her peoples' teachings, and continued to speak to him on friendly terms even when she was sure they could not communicate. It was...odd. Yes, odd, Reyson realized, and very similar to when he had first met Ike and his companions, begun to realize that not all beorc were cruel and heartless. Perhaps it was the same of the Daeins...perhaps a race or a people could not be labeled based on reputation alone.

"Think you're ready for me to take care of your other injuries?" Maeya asked suddenly, getting up and stepping towards him once more. "We probably shouldn't hang around too much longer...they might start to wonder where I am, and if they come searching for me...I don't want them to hurt you." She bit her lip slightly.

Reyson only nodded as she approached, and she smiled again, setting to her work with a will. The other injuries were not nearly so extensive, and required far less of the healing ointment, as well as causing far less pain (for which Reyson was grateful). Maeya removed the shafts in his shoulders and bound the injuries before they could bleed too terribly, spreading a thin coating of ointment over the wounds as she did so. She treated his left wing with extraordinary care, removing the twisted, barbed arrow with such gentle movements that she removed only a few feathers with it in the process, and tended to the pierced injury very delicately.

As she worked, she hummed, and then began to sing, mostly for her own entertainment; a one sided conversation could only go so far. Despite the situation, Reyson could not help but grimace. Maeya's voice was atrocious, and even without knowing the folk tunes she favored, his finely tuned ear could tell she was horridly off-key.

The woman caught his grimace, unrelated to any of the treatments she gave him, and gave an embarrassed laugh. "Oh, dear," she said, blushing, "I-I'm sorry. I like to sing, but I know I'm not very good at it...I probably sound terribly silly compared to you. Your voice is very pretty, even if I can't understand what you're saying. I bet you sing very well."

He snorted lightly in response and flexed his left wing carefully as she finished with it, testing her handiwork. It was imperfect, but would do until he could find his way back to Ike's army. And with the aid she had given him, his pain had diminished considerably. It still remained as a dull throb that he registered in the back of his mind, but he could counter it, focus clearly on other elements around him now.

"I think we're done," Maeya finished, standing up as she observed her patient. "Unless there's anything else...? No? Well then, you'd better get moving. If the others find you..." she trailed off, bit her lip again, and then held out her hand to help him up.

Reyson hesitated, but then reached out with one of his delicately gloved hands to meet hers. She grasped it firmly and pulled him to his feet, steadying him carefully as he put his weight on still-weakened limbs.

"Think you'll be okay?" she asked after a moment, stepping back to observe him again. Reyson paused, took a careful step, and kept his feet. His balance felt off—his right wing was still held at an awkward angle from the splint, and he could not fold it completely behind him. But he could move, and would be able to traverse the forests without too much of a problem. Turning, he nodded quietly to her.

Maeya clapped her hands together happily, and then held out the small vial of healing ointment to him. "Here. You take this. It'll help." He shook his head, unwilling to accept further help, but she pressed it into his hands. "Go on, take it! You've still got to get back to the Crimeans, right? I'm not sure where they are, but you probably still have a lot of walking to do."

Reyson sighed, but accepted the vial without further complaint. It would probably help to stem the pain in his limbs further, at any rate, and he did still have quite a walk ahead of him.

Maeya made a shooing motion now, pantomiming leaving. "You should go now," she said, her voice urgent. "I need to get back to camp so they don't miss me. And whatever you do, don't go that way!" She pointed, indicating the direction of her temporary home.

Reyson nodded, but hesitated. As before, when he had first met Ike, he had been helped by a beorc; and as before, he disliked leaving his debts unpaid. This woman had saved him from almost certain death or capture, a feat that he had not expected from anyone of Daein, and he did not want to leave such an action unrewarded.

She seemed to guess at his thoughts from his expression, and shook her head. "It's okay," the woman assured him. "I really liked helping you, you don't have to pay me back or anything. It was enough just to meet you. I've never met a laguz before, like I told you...and you're such a pretty laguz, too. I didn't know laguz could be like you." She smiled at him, and for once Reyson found himself not minding her comments about his appearance. "I've heard lots of stories about the bird laguz before, but that's all. I even heard some of them have the power to bring trees back to life! Oh," she added, rather sheepishly, "but you probably know more about that than I do..."

If only she had the vaguest idea just how much more I do know than her, Reyson could not help but think wryly. Yet despite her assurances, he still did not like leaving his debts unpaid.

And then the answer came to him, and after hesitating only slightly, he gave her the one gift left available to him. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and quietly began to sing.

The song was nothing special, really. It encased no enchantments, did not belong to the galdr, contained no hidden prophecies or stories as old as time. It was simply a song of the natural elements around him, and nothing more. The beorc, he had realized, could not hear the trees or the sky or the earth beneath their feet, but with his help they could; and so he captured their own songs in his voice, translated it into the fluid and hauntingly beautiful melodies that the beorc senses could comprehend.

It was no special effort for him, and to the senses of the heron of Serenes it was as easy as repeating the sentence his allies had just spoken. But for Maeya, it was something mystical, enchanting, and she listened to his voice with awe, captured in the enthralling natural beauty he wove.

Until at last, his voice died away, and though Reyson had only been singing for bare minutes, it seemed like hours to the young archer. She smiled at him, and her eyes glistened brightly as she bowed in front of him once again.

"Thank you," she whispered. "That was beautiful. I...I don't think I'll ever forget that. I'll keep it with me forever in my memory." She smiled at him softly. "Please stay safe. I think I would hate it if...my people were to kill you."

And then Maeya turned, and pausing only to reclaim her bow and quiver she scurried off once more through the trees. Reyson watched quietly, and listened to the whispers of the trees around him for several minutes in the stillness. The forest resonated softly around him, sang quietly to him that she had truly left. And it was then that Reyson realized he was alone once more...but not in quite the same way as he had been before.

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And there we have chapter four, completed. The final chapter will be the conclusion, so stick around and hang tight.

And now, for more Reyson observations. Are any of you familiar with the Wayfarer Redemption series by Sara Douglass? And if so, is Reyson not the spitting image of an Icarii Enchanter? If you're not familiar with the book or the Icarii race, here's a quick rundown of bizarre similarities for you:

-The Icarii are a 'winged man/birdman' race...in other words they're people with massive wings.

-The Icarii are one of three races in their continuity, along with the Avar (the beast-people), and the Acharites (humans)

-Both Icarii and Avar are frequently referred to (rather insultingly) as "The Forbidden" by the humans, who think they are a cursed evil race. This is largely born out of misconception and the meddlings of one super-evil god.

-The Icarii were also driven from their forest-homes by the humans, who ripped down and destroyed the forests in a war that rebelled against the arrogant Icarii race, and fueled by the hatred of the aforementioned super-evil god. Most Icarii bear a bit of a grudge against humans as a result.

-The Icarii Enchanters, a specific type of gifted Icarii, are extraordinarily powerful magic users. Their magic does not come from spellbooks or artifacts, however, but from singing. Singing the correct songs or melodies affects different forms of magic, be it elemental, healing, or re-creation.

-StarDrifter Sunsoar, the main Icarii Enchanter in the series, pretty much looks just like Reyson (at any rate, I believe he is described as being extraordinarily beautiful and having fair hair, so I always pictured them similarly).

-While it's not their specialty, most Icarii Enchanters (and StarDrifter specifically) are able to listen to and communicate with trees by singing.

In fact, the only major differences I can find between the two races (beyond the obvious 'different continuity' bit) is that Reyson can turn into an actual heron, while the Icarii remain completely half-human, half-bird their entire lives. The Icarii, however, have a tendency to reflect birds-of-prey in their wing shapes, and they use weaponry—specifically bows.

Bizarre, ne? I'm convinced Reyson is secretly an Icarii. That's why he's so damn pretty (damn his prettiness!)

As always, if you choose to leave a review, kindly leave some substance in it. What did you like? What didn't you like? What was done well? What could be improved? Your input helps a lot, so do pitch in!

--Velkyn Karma