Alone in the Dark

by oddmachine16

The war with Ashera is over and life has gone back to normal. But has it? A new threat looms as mysterious people begin to appear across Tellius. Will the heroes remain righteous, or will they succumb to the dark? Various pairings.

4. The Kindling Catches

Author's Note: Well, as it turns out, I cannot write 16,000+ words in four days; it takes me at least a week. So I apologize for the three day wait everybody! I also looked over my past few chapters and found out that I have been skipping words, having bad grammar and spelling, etc. I will start proofreading the chapters before I publish them now. And as for the source where I got the verbalization of the ancient language; its

Review Responses: First off, as a general shout out to everyone reading this fit; I am sorry for the fragmentary plot of this fic. I realize that the different plot arcs are starting to make things confusing and a little vague. Things WILL elaborate, please keep on reading! Plot arcs will join, characters will be cut out, etc. Things will begin to speed up and get simpler, don't worry.

Also, as a response to ikerulesall if he is reading this (which I doubt but...) and all others against yaoi; this is NOT a yaoi fic. Yes, I realize that as of right now Ike and Soren kind of have a repressed thing for each other but...simply put, if you HATE yaoi, you can still read this fic. A huge part of this fic is the characters finding out where there allegiances lie, meaning where there loyalties are, what they truly believe in, who they REALLY love, etc. And since this is set in the character's POV and not an omniscient third person then...I'm just saying that if you are anti-yaoi, don't give up yet. The characters are supposed to be confused, it adds to the realness of the fic. I want this thing to be as accurate as possible.

SOOOO, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Fire Emblem or Intelligent Systems.

---

The Kindling Catches

The sun shone down on the city square, baking the dusty cobblestoned path. Sounds filled the marketplace, the beckoning calls of shop women emitting out from underneath red and blue canvased stands, the shouts of children playing in the alleys, and the general din of customers arguing and bickering over prices. People of every shape and size were milling about Melior's largest plaza, but two stood out. Although they blended into the expansive crowd, for anyone who was looking the two women's' apparel stood out against the drab peasant clothing of their fellow shoppers.

One of them was a muscular woman, dressed in light blue leather armor, her hot pink hair standing out in the crowd like a candle in the night. Strapped to her back was a respectably large sword, and despite its size, she moved with an uncanny grace and elegance. Next to her was another woman, this one of a much smaller and delicate stature, her tight robes showcasing a relatively skinny body. Her robes were a dark cherry red and she held in her hand a golden staff topped with a dark red orb. She had normal, mousy brown hair, and a pale complexion, yet the thing that stood out the most about her was her golden brown eyes.

They held wisdom that did not belong in the eyes of a peasant, and they held sorrow and pain that a comfortable cleric would never have experienced. She, like her companion, walked with grace and poise, but with a social air, unlike the militarized image of her friend.

Elincia loved the market. She was still not used to crowded places due to her isolated childhood, and the lonely confines of the royal castle. In fact the most crowded area she had ever been in was the battlefield, so to be in such a happy place with an abundance of people still pleased her. Although, while walking through the plaza, she had discovered that she was slightly claustrophobic, a fact that she had quickly grown to hate as she felt like a snooty noble trying to avoid the common person. Luckily however, she didn't look like a rich noble, or even a well-to-do merchant.

After receiving the news about Felirae from Wendy, Elincia had decided to go out to the people and discover what they truly thought about the crown. However, she knew that in order to garner their true feelings about herself and her policies, she could not look herself. So she had gone to one of the court magicians, and he had changed her. He had made her less muscular and more skinny, had switched her luscious green hair to a drab, thin brown but most importantly, he had changed her face to be more…Begnion. She didn't mean to be stereotypical or racist but her previously soft features had become harder, with prominent cheekbones and a square jawline. But most of all, she looked nothing like herself.

"Milady," Wendy leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "we should go have a look around."

"Wendy, remember our story?", the brown haired Elincia turning to look at her bodyguard, "My name is Rayna, a Begnion cleric from the church in Sienne."

"Ok then Rayna. Would you like to go look at that fruit stand? The woman running it looks chatty." She raised an eyebrow, her blue eyes twinkling underneath her pink strands.

Elincia simply nodded and set off. Many of the people in the market noticed her Begnion looks and either ran into her on purpose or got out of her way. The citizenry was still upset and angry over how the Senate had invaded Crimea without her consent and laid waste to many of the smaller towns. Even in Melior this sentiment held fast, a city that was completely unaffected by the invasion. She hoped that her new looks would not cause her people to hide what they thought, although she supposed that if they did not like the crown they would be more apt to vent towards a stranger.

They had reached the fruit stand, and Elincia looked up at the woman running the vendor. She was a larger woman with bright red hair and large hazel eyes. It seemed as if she had been around a while, as she had a shrewd and skeptical look about her. Wendy was busy rummaging through the piles of fruit, making it look like she was looking for the perfect pear or apple. Elincia couldn't keep her eyes off the woman and was again captivated by the life of the commoner. She knew that it shouldn't surprise her much anymore, especially after being exposed to the outside world for almost four and a half years, but the stark simplicity and labor of the commoner still threw her for a loop. The fruit vendor glanced at Wendy after a minute and glared at her.

"Hey! You gonna buy something or not? I can't you smear your filthy, mercenary paws all over my merchandise! Either buy it or back off!"

Wendy glanced up at her and returned her glare. "Hmph. I knew I should've stayed in Begnion, everything good is there. Ha! All the fruit here is bruised and rotten anyways."

She made as if to walk away but the fruit dealer grabbed her arm. Wendy spun around and laid a hand on the hilt of her sword. The woman backed off and pulled a short lance out from underneath a shelf. Elincia looked around and saw that their scuffle had not yet attracted any attention but she knew that it was only a matter of time. Worried, she stepped forward and in between the two angry women.

"Please! Ladies stop! Ma'am I am sorry that my friend here offended you, she is quick to anger. I think we will be going now." Elincia spoke calmly while gripping Wendy's arm and starting to drag her off. They had walked a couple feet when the woman called out.

"Hey! Stop!", the two of them turned around and the woman continued, "Get back over here."

Elincia hesitated, but she saw that the lady had put her lance back under that stand, so she presumed that it was safe to head on back. They stopped at the stand and the woman looked around suspiciously, then leaned over the fruit and spoke to them.

"Hey. You guys are from Begnion right? I mean I'm no fan of the Senate and you guys are uppity snobs but…there isn't anyone around here who would admit to not liking the queen. I mean I love Crimea and all but, you guys know what I mean! It's just…"

Wendy looked over at Elincia and arched her eyebrows. Elincia was trying to keep her cool but so far was not succeeding. She felt the anger and battle lust come over her and it took all her willpower to not reach out and strike the woman. What the hell had she ever done to this woman? But she took a deep breath and smiled.

"I know what you mean. Things back in Begnion are much better than here. I mean the Senate might not be the best but at least Apostle Sanaki is a good leader. Begnion has always been prosperous." Elincia said, trying to keep an edge out of her voice.

The woman's eyes lit up and nodded fervently.

"Yeah! Yeah! It's just that Queen Elincia can't like protect our nation! I mean first Ludveck and the rebellion, then the Begnion insurgency, and then we fight with the Laguz Alliance! That was all in one year! It's just wrong that she allied us with the subhumans too. Those damn furry beasts! You know a woman really shouldn't rule a country. A real monarch needs to be a man…" the woman continued ranting until she noticed Elincia glaring at her fiercely.

The fruit vendor backed up, her face shocked and her brown eyes swimming with fear. Wendy tugged on Elincia's arm and she spun around, her eyes flashing. The pink-haired woman simply nodded, and Elincia walked away briskly, clenching her hands so hard that her palms began to bleed. Wendy turned back towards the shopwoman and unlimbering her sword, leaned in toward the frightened lady.

"Watch what you say about Her Majesty. You never know who is listening." Wendy spat out and walked away, jogging lightly to catch up with Elincia.

She sheathed her sword and grabbed Elincia by the arm. Spinning her around, she saw that her face was contorted and red, and a single tear fell from the queen's golden brown eye. Wendy winced, and through her tears Elincia could see that she felt awkward. She had only cried once before in front of Wendy and she knew that the spy was no good with comforting or making people feel better. Wendy was a warrior, pure and simple; she was not supposed to be the best friend, or the doting mother that she never had, yet Elincia was having trouble getting that through her head.

"I'm fine. Really I am. She's just some stupid peasant woman who doesn't know…" Elincia tried to choke down a sob but failed, and her whole body wracked with the force of it. She reminded herself that she would find no comfort from her friend. But Wendy surprised her by putting an arm around her shoulder and squeezing her tight.

"Hey. Look I know that we aren't very close and that we only have a professional relationship as of now but…I just want you to know that I'm saying this as an honest friend, not as a subordinate trying to suck up.", the pink-haired woman swallowed, and Elincia could tell that all this emotion was rough on her. "This woman doesn't know anything. She's only one person, and from how nobody seems to go to her stand, it seems like she isn't a representative of the majority. You're a great queen. Yeah, she's right, there has been a bunch of wars during your reign but you got us through all of them! You won back our country! Next to nobody would be able to do that Your Majesty."

Elincia looked at her and smiled, pushing her new brown hair out of her face. She turned around and smothered the woman with a tight hug, which Wendy in turn did not reciprocate. The spy simply stood there, tense with her arms at her side. Elincia let go and let her grin slowly fade, wiping the tears off her face.

"Thank you Wendy. I don't think we no longer have to pretend we are best friends from Begnion anymore," the queen laid her hand on her companion's shoulder, "as I consider you a real friend now. Now come on! We have to get to work!"

Wendy simply nodded and they set off, weaving their way through the bodies of people. Once again, their fellow Crimeans avoided Elincia, staying away from her Begnion looks. Elincia got to thinking about what their main goal in the market today was. She knew that they were supposed to find out what exactly the people thought of her and her policies, but she felt as if there was some greater purpose to her being in the plaza. Without any warning, a woman ran straight into her and continued right on by, leaving her sprawled on the ground. She was wearing a tight pale pink dress and a hood of the same color, so Elincia could not see any of her features. It seemed like she was chasing after a man in a blue cape.

"Wendy, help me up please." Elincia said, a hint of command in her voice. She couldn't lie; she was slightly angry that her "friend" couldn't be bothered to get her up and she was for sure incredibly embarrassed.

But looking up she saw that Wendy had an intense look on her face and was staring fiercely at the pink-clad woman and the mysterious blue cape she was running after. Without realizing it, the spy had unsheathed her sword and was moving slowly after them, a dull, blank look on her face. Frightened, Elincia pulled out the stone hilted dagger she had hidden in her robes and got a better grip on her staff. At that moment however, Wendy's eyes cleared and she sheathed her sword while grabbing Elincia by the arm and pulling her up. She still had the intense look on her face.

"Come quickly. We must get out of here. Now."

She said it with such authority that Elincia had no choice but to follow, and she did exactly that. They hurried through the crowd, weaving their way in and out of people. Finally, Wendy stopped them underneath a tavern in a dingy alley, in a section of the city which both the nobility and the common folk liked to call The Seediness. She wasn't sure what it meant exactly, but Elincia did know that too much crime happened here, and that it was too run down. So essentially, she was scared.

"Wendy! What is going on? This area of Melior is nasty. Please can we leave?" Elincia asked, trying to keep the whininess and begging out of her voice.

"Your Majesty. Please be tough. I believe that there is a dangerous man here in Melior, and I need to keep you as safe as possible. Just rough through it. If you can live through countless battles, then you can sure as hell as keep yourself together in an alley!"

She had a definite edge to her voice, and its biting retort caused Elincia to hide her head in shame, her cheeks a flaming red. Wendy noticed her mistake, and hurriedly moved to correct it.

"I'm sorry milady. I…it's just that this man, if he is who I think he is, is extremely dangerous. We have to be careful."

Elincia just nodded, embarrassed at her incompetence and cowardice, as well as ashamed of her lack of faith in her bodyguard. When she looked up, she saw a man strolling down the alley toward them. He had a confident gait, and strapped to his back was a quiver-full of arrows along with a massive bow. His arms were overpowered, bulging with muscles, but his legs were normal sized, if not slightly skinny, making him look disproportionate and not nearly as threatening as he could've been.

"Is this man more dangerous than this guy? There's no way his arms are bigger than this guy's." Elincia stated, slightly jokingly, but the humor was lost on Wendy. She simply nodded and laid a hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to unsheathe it and cut down the man with an overhead cut if necessary. Elincia gripped her staff tightly, and gently placed her fingers on the dagger hidden within her robes. There was a small notch at the bottom of her recover staff and she could insert her dagger into it, turning the harmless staff into a lethal lance-like weapon. Her restore staff secured the knife better but it would change her hair back to its normal color, and would restore her face and body to its normal shape. And that could not happen at all.

"Hello ladies! You girls look outfitted for some dangerous times. It's a good idea you know. Smart gals." he said, his voice surprisingly high and nasally.

"Oh really? I hadn't realized that these times were so rough," Wendy said, slightly offended to his subtly derogatory attitude. "please, do enlighten me."

"Ha! Oh you guys look smart; I think you know full well. You look like you're from Begnion! Which begs me to ask what you are doing in lovely Crimea, considering our two nations don't have the best relations as of right now."

"I really don't think that it's any of your business, sir. Now excuse me but we must be leaving now. It was nice to meet you." Wendy said curtly, her and Elincia starting to turn away.

"Not so fast ladies!"

The man had equipped his bow and had strung an arrow up as well. Wendy unsheathed her sword and shoved Elincia behind her, her arms quivering from the adrenaline rush and shock. Elincia stumbled behind her and flipped her staff on its end, inserting the dagger into the notch. She peeked out over Wendy's shoulder and saw that the situation remained the same. If worse came to worse and they had to move, she would have to attack simultaneously with Wendy before he got a shot off. Arrows still scared her silly, even though she wasn't riding her pegasus right now.

"Ok. Now, now, let's not get hot and heated okay? All I'm asking is for you two gals to come with me. You need money I'm sure. Versatile ladies are the perfect type of girl; you're both comely and deadly, a thing that will earn a pretty penny. So just come into the bar with me and we'll talk it out ok?"

Elincia stepped out from behind Wendy and took a few steps forward, trying to look as calm and relaxed as possible.

"I really don't think we need to do as you say. Now I used to be a clergywoman in Begnion and the head priest told me", she said, remaining as calm as possible, "that fighting is never the answer. My friend may be a little violent but we don't want any trouble…"

Then man snarled and stepped forward, pulling back on the string of his bow.

"Enough talking."

He loosed an arrow straight at Elincia but she managed to dodge it by stepping off to the side. It whizzed right by her ear, ruffling her hair in its wake. Wendy had already run forward to the man and was swinging at him, yet he blocked each blow with his bow. It must have been made of steel as it refused to snap despite Wendy's hard hits. Elincia herself rushed up to the man, and as busy as he was with Wendy, he did not notice her until she placed the edge of her staff-dagger against his neck.

"That's enough! Step down and run away Kiev! I don't want to see you again!"

The archer gulped and ran away hurriedly, lucky that he had not been cut by Elincia's knife. Standing in the doorway of the bar was an extremely muscular man, yet he carried no visible weapons. Behind him stood a company of about a dozen men and women, outfitted with various weapons. They were a rough looking bunch, their faces marred with scars and still healing bruises, their eyes stone cold and blank. It was obvious that they were mercenaries who only lived for battle and money.

"Excuse me sir, but who are you?" Elincia inquired, curious and wary as to whom this man was. But she also hid her staff-dagger combination behind her leg, hoping that the mercenary troupe wouldn't see it and try to recruit them.

"The name's Samuel. And don't try to hide your little staff shindig from me, it's obvious that you two are some form of mercenaries, and that your little cleric story is just an act. Now as for me, the gang and I are off to Felirae, our next mission. I thought we could use a healer, despite whether she is a member of the clergy or not."

Elincia sighed and looked at Wendy, who shrugged nonchalantly. She then proceeded to flip the staff over and remove the dagger, hiding back within her robes. One of the men behind Samuel raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Yeah. We're mercenaries from Begnion. And we could use the money. But we don't like to take on jobs we don't agree with. What's the specifics?" Wendy said stiffly, betraying no emotion. It was obvious that she was trying to get information but Elincia felt that she was taking it a bit too far, especially considering these people really wanted them to join them. She didn't want to get stuck traveling with them to Felirae.

"Taking down the crown. The Crimean crown. Something every loyal Begnion wants right? Especially after they massacred you in the war alongside the laguz…" Samuel drawled.

Elincia stepped forward, speaking hurriedly and obviously worriedly.

"Sorry. We-we're really not interested. Good day."

"Well, well. It's not like a mercenary to turn down what sounds like a lucrative job is it? Unless you're some spies for the queen?", a large, axe-wielding man asked threateningly.

"And what is this incredibly high price? It better be large, especially to rebel against the crown." Wendy asked.

Samuel snorted, amusement glinting in his eyes.

"Ha! Come on, you girls aren't dumb. If a man wants to rebel against the powers that be, he has to have money. And if he has the money, then he'll pay his soldiers a lot. So yeah, it's worth it, no matter what. The money, the excitement, the danger, and the pleasure in fighting against a great power, it's everything a mercenary could want. It's the perfect job sweeties, unless you got another agenda and this job conflicts with your loyalties? And the pay is a thousand each, sugar. You coming?"

Wendy glared at him and took a few more steps forward until she was face to face with Samuel. He smelled like smoke and burnt clothing, not to mention he had fiery sparks dancing in his eyes. It was now obvious that he was a fire sage, so the two decided not to anger him, lest he decided to roast them. Plus it seemed like they had no choice in the matter, unless they wanted to reveal their true identities and crush any hope of defeating the second Felirae rebellion.

"Fine then. We'll come."

The troupe left the bar and headed toward the main gate of Melior. They already had their supplies, so there was no chance to leave a message to Lucia or Geoffrey saying where exactly the queen and her bodyguard were. Elincia leaned in close to Wendy and whispered softly, rustling the hot pink hair of the spy.

"Wendy, what are we going to do? My disappearance will create a panic! Crimea will be thrown into chaos!"

Wendy looked at her reproachfully as they passed underneath the gate and away from Melior. They were on the road to Felirae, and to the enemy. It was ironic; the rebellion's greatest enemy was now one of its allies, perhaps its most important if there were no other healers. Elincia sighed, disheartened by the possibility that if she was found out, she would never see her friends again, never rule her country again, and the chance of saving Crimea would be gone. Wendy placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in close to her queen.

"Worry not milady. We are going to destroy this rebellion from the inside out!"

---

They were an odd crew, the five of them. They walked down the dusty dirt path, under a canopy of grey-blue cloud, a woman upon a horse, a man upon a wyvern, and three foot soldiers lollygagging their way across the countryside. It was peculiar. There was a horse that could hold two, and a wyvern that could hold three, yet the small company still chose to go at a leisurely pace, all of them remaining on the ground and talking amongst one another. They were close, especially considering they had all met up less than two weeks ago. A love for their country bound the mercenary troupe and solidified their vindication for their cause; to protect the common man from the vultures of mankind, the rugged beasts that leapt out at the innocent from the wild.

Haar took in a deep breath, puffing out his chest and tightening his armor, and then let it out, swirling the dust motes in front of him into a tiny tornado. Another job. It was their third already this week, and although the previous two had only been driving out a band of thieves, he was still exhausted. And bored. They had been traveling across the Daein countryside for the past four days, going at a leisurely pace. He had never realized just how huge Daein was on foot, and he was used to traveling across the country in no more than a day and a half. Talrega seemed like ages away from Nox, and although he did not necessarily dislike sleeping on the hard, rocky ground, Haar still missed the comfort of his bed back at the castle. The soft sheets and fluffy pillows beckoned him, as well as the lure of Rebecka. She was riding with them, but he had only talked to her a minimal amount over the past few days. The baroness of Nox seemed much more taken with their three new companions.

Both Mia and Zihark seemed to be essentially obsessed with Rebecka, and they would talk for long hours, completely ignoring both Haar and Ilyana. While he got that Rebecka never had a lot of opportunity to socialize before, and while he knew that he wasn't always the most exciting person, he was still hurt that Mia's bubbliness and Zihark's cool detachment would intrigue her more than him. Not to mention that Ilyana's friends never gave her the time of day either. But at least he and the thunder sage had grown close during the war against Begnion. Mostly because he always took pity on her and fed her constantly, at least until she had gotten Zihark over to their side.

Which he guessed was more than what Jill did for him. He had talked to her whenever he could find her on the battlefield, and it always ended with him running away, refusing to fight her and possibly hurt her. No matter how hard he tried, she always refused to join the Laguz Alliance and fight with him, always putting her loyalty as a soldier first. Haar guessed that he had never truly come first in her life, and for that he was grateful that he had met Rebecka. Even though she sometimes ignored him, or angered him greatly, he knew that they both truly cared for each other, and that they would support each other no matter who, what, or when.

"Haar?" Ilyana said tentatively, "Can I come up there on Celica?"

He nodded. She looked exhausted, and on the verge of collapse. The troupe hadn't brought much food with them, and Haar knew that his ever-hungry friend had not nearly gotten enough food as she needed. But Celica was always wary around her, and rightfully so. Thunder magic could tear a wyvern apart, blasting straight through their hard scales. He would have to teach Celica that she could trust Ilyana, but he was not anywhere close to confident that she ever would.

"Yeah. Sure, but leave your tomes down there with Zihark or Rebecka."

She staggered on over to Zihark and handed him her two books. They were looking dangerously tattered, and Haar presumed that he would have to put aside some of their pay for new tomes. His axe was beginning to get notched as well; he might buy a new one in the town that was their destination. They were less than a mile away by now, and he knew that the village would be in their sights within the hour. He looked down and saw Ilyana trying to clamber up one of Celica's leg, but Celica was trying to get Ilyana away by swinging her spiked tail dangerously close to the girl's face. Haar held out his arm to her, and after she grabbed it, he swung her up, placing her down behind her. Celica made one last angry snort and then calmed down, continuing to walk on the path. Haar knew that she wanted more than anything to fly right now, as did he, but soon they would be able to. There was nothing scarier to a groups of brigands than a huge wyvern swooping down on you.

"Haar? Do you have any food? I'm…starving." Ilyana breathed. Haar shook his head and bit his lip, trying not to laugh at her. She wasn't that hungry; he could tell by her voice. He had fed her enough times to be able to tell her varying levels of hunger, and she was barely hungry. The sneaky mage was just trying to sound like she was about to faint so she could get some food. Considering how much she ate, Haar felt like she should be the size of Celica, not a skinny twig that practically blew away in the wind.

"No, sorry kiddo. We can get some food when we are done at the town, it's just around the bend. You can wait an hour right?"

She harrumphed and crossed her arms, obviously pouting. Haar internally groaned; she was getting more like Mia every day. Soon she would want to spar at god awful times in the early mornings, and claim that she was going to scour the world for her true rival. To be blunt, he couldn't handle two purple-haired monsters at one time.

At that moment, they walked out beyond a copse of trees and the small village came into view. Like all the other towns in Daein, it was fortified, with a tough sandstone entryway, and what looked like a structurally sound gate. However this town was unusual, as despite its generally small size, it had walls surrounding it on all four sides, and looked nigh impregnable, at least for the simple ruffian. Haar had no idea how they were even being threatened, or why they had sent a messenger upon wyvernback to Nox.

Haar heard no screaming women or children, and no flames climbed the stone walls. There seemed to be no problem. He hoped that there was at least some type of problem, if only for some excitement to break up his eternal boredom. But the messenger had paid them before he left, and a considerable sum as well, so Haar guessed that there was something dangerous going on. He stopped Celica and turned around to face the rest of his men.

"We're here."

He had planned to say something bigger, something more motivating, perhaps philosophical and deep, but those two words were all that came to him. It summed up everything; here they were, no matter if the town was being attacked or not, no matter if their help was truly needed or not, no matter if they were walking into a trap set up by the fabled southern insurgents or not. His men were here to do a job, and they would do it no matter what.

Rebecka simply leaned back on Topaz and raised her eyebrow, obviously questioning his motive and thought process behind his statement of the obvious. He allowed himself a small grin; he had finally gotten the girl to notice him again and catch her attention. It helped too that the rest of the babbling troupe had quieted as well, and that everyone's eyes were on him. Even though Rebecka was the noblewoman, and the lady with the money and power, they as a couple had agreed that Haar should lead their pentad as he had more experience with battle and strategy. And it was nice to finally be recognized as the leader.

"Um. I don't know what to say. Well you guys can see that we have arrived here at the town. And that it is not under attack, at least not from our viewpoint. So we must be careful when approaching and entering, just in case the bandits have secured the town before we have gotten here, or the townsmen have set a trap for us."

"Sir Haar! Why would the townsfolk do that? I mean we are here to help them and they asked for the help! Plus it's a stupid idea, we are obviously stronger and better than them, they'd be massacred!" Mia practically shouted out, her cocky and excitable personality bursting out from within her.

Haar smiled ruefully, Mia's nomenclature for him bringing up pained memories of Jill from the Mad King's War all those years ago. She had used to call him Captain Haar, Mr. Haar, and sometimes Sir Haar because she couldn't address her "superior" in a formal way. But he would have to get over her, at least momentarily, unless it was to affect his leadership and wariness for his surroundings, which a lack of could be his end. He had Rebecka and Jill should be no more than a passing memory for him, but no matter how hard he tried, she continued to pop up in his head, either in poignant memories or "what ifs".

He shook it out of him mentally, only allowing a small shiver to pass through him physically signifying his efforts. Memories and ruminations could not affect him at such a critical time like this. And Jill was not worth it; although they had been friends, he supposed that they may never have been as close as he had thought they were. She had never given him the time of day and now he would not give her the time of day.

"Mia, you don't have to call me Sir Haar, Haar is just fine. And the southern rebellion supposedly exists right? I mean surely advocates for such a revolt against the powers that be would dislike a powerful woman like Rebecka, and her lackeys as well. Plus this town looks like it once used to be prosperous but it's now run down, so they probably have met rough times and are blaming it on the nobles and Queen Micaiah. So be as wary of the townsfolk as well as any ruffians OK? I don't want any one of you to get hurt beyond repair. Or die."

"Hmph. You should show yourself more respect Haar, you're a formidable warrior. Although I bet I could beat you, since I am a whirling storm of ringing blades. Ha! Do you want to spar? If we hurry we could be done before we have to enter the town! Come on, ready your axe wyvern rider!" Mia shouted, whipping out her sword and entering a fighting stance, ready to fight her new rival.

Haar sighed. Mia had not gotten the point at all and was now rambling about how he was a wimp and couldn't stand up to a woman and how he was not living up to his reputation as the most powerful wyvern lord in all of Tellius. He ignored her, instead turning to Rebecka, Zihark, and Ilyana.

"Look, this is what we are going to do. We will approach the town gate, our weapons sheathed and our heads held tall. We have to look professional and threatening, so I want Zihark, Mia, and Ilyana to walk on foot. If there is no obvious threat we will find the mayor and talk to him in order to find out what the situation is. We may or may not get our pay, so I want you guys to know that. No acting out if they don't pay us for doing nothing.

"But if we are attacked when we enter the town, then this is the plan. Rebecka and Ilyana, I want you guys to stop immediately and take aim. Try to take out any archers or mages first. Zihark I want you to break left, and Mia! Put down your sword and pay attention! You are to break right. I am going to go airborne on Celica and take out anybody out of your guys' line of sight. Once you clear the entrance area, I want Rebecka to make sure the townspeople are safe and protect them. Zihark and Mia are to search the alleys to find any other enemies, and Ilyana is to stay at the entrance and stop any reinforcements. Everybody got it?"

The rest of the mercenaries nodded, their faces solemn in anticipation for what was to come. This battle, or lack thereof, would be the worst because they had no idea what to expect. Either the bandits would pull an ambush on them when they reached the town, they would find the town already occupied, or there would be no issue at all. Haar sighed; there would have to be a lot of improvisation and that could lead to disaster.

"Ok. Let's do this thing troupe. This could be our defining moment as mercenaries. Let's make it a good one."

They marched across the small meadow that lay in front of the town, its small yellow wildflowers dotting the wispy grass to each side of the road. Haar now realized why the town was so fortified; at some point, this town had been a major thoroughfare. He counted no less than six major highways intersecting in front of the town and suspected that there once was a variety of smaller roads that had now been covered with grass. When they were halfway across the quarter-mile plain, they saw an odd hummock of upturned dirt. After inspecting it, Zihark said that it was a traditional Daein grave, something that was only still practiced in smaller towns like this one. He said that from the looks of things, it could be no more than two days old. Haar did not like this, as it meant that somebody or something was killing off people in the town. The worst case scenario was that bandits had indeed invaded the town and that people were dying because of it. He guessed that they would have to be on their guard no matter what.

The ragtag mercenary group passed under the sandstone archway and into the town proper. It seemed to be deserted without any noises, visible people, or the general din and cacophony that came with a normal village. However there was no blood pooled on the streets either, so Haar took that as a good sign. No blood meant no bodies which meant no brigands. At least not yet. The troupe walked down the main thoroughfare until they reached the cobblestoned town square, a respectably large pond situated in the very center. It was surrounded by a few trees, some flowers, and a bed of grass, reminding Haar of the city gardens dotting Melior. It solidified the prosperous past of this town.

They stopped right next to the crystalline pond, perplexed as to why nobody was showing themselves. However, at that instant a man came dashing out of a large maroon shingled house on the edge of the square. He seemed to be elder in his years, yet he had a spring in step and his hair was still jet black, albeit with a few gray streaks. Dressed well for the common peasant, Haar guessed that he was the mayor although the man did not have the looks of a pampered nobleman, even if he was only the ruler of a small town. The man was very muscular and there were scars crisscrossing his face giving him a tough, almost sinister look.

After reaching the small garden in the center of the plaza, the man proceeded to run up to Celica's foreleg and stroke her dark blue scales. He ignored the five people standing around him, instead choosing to admire the wyvern, running his hands all over her lower body. She purred like a cat, arching her back and nuzzling his hand, causing him to notice her head and to begin to stroke the top of her head. Both of their light green eyes sparkling, the man finally looked up at the people surrounding him. He stared at each one, holding eye contact with each person until he laid his eyes upon Haar.

"That's a nice wyvern son! Is she wild or domestic? I know she's one of the Daein types; they're always bigger, tougher, and stronger than those skinny Begnions.", the man said.

Haar opened and shut his mouth a couple times. He was completely caught off guard. Here was the mayor of a town that was quite possibly under threat from bandits, and he was asking about the origins of Celica! It was crazy. All he wanted to do was sleep and put off all this mystery and oddity until another day. But he answered the obsessive mayor anyways.

"She's a wild one. I found her abandoned by her mother in the forests near Tor Garen as a child, and I raised her, tamed her, and eventually rode her. Now sir, if you don't mind me asking, what is going on here in this town? Are there bandits or not?", he said tensely, a slight edge to his voice.

"Hahaha! Boy, you two must be close then. She's a fearsome beast I can tell you that, but she doesn't beat those reptiles from the north. Now those are the nasty ones let me tell you. Hmph. Korls. Now that reminds me…I got something to tell you all…"

"Excuse me sir? Did say Korl?" Haar hurriedly interrupted, overcome with excitement. There were two types of wyverns: those found in and around the Grann Desert, the Begnion type, and the ones found around the Death Desert, the Daein type. The Begnions were generally smaller and leaner, but faster, while the Daeins were bigger, stronger, and slower. However there had always been legends of a third type of wyvern, the Korl. They were supposed to be massive, strong enough to fight with three people upon their backs and still be unaffected. And this man talked about them as if he KNEW that they existed.

"Yeah I did boy. This used to be a wyvern town, a center for the wyvern trading business. I sold them to the Begnion senators, to Daein herself, to merchants and farmers, to everyone. And in my youth, we would get massive wyverns from the north occasionally, brought in by men in thick fur coats wielding huge spears and swords. I just assumed they were the Korl, as both the men and wyverns were too big to be Daein."

"Wow."

Haar was speechless. He had always been hearing legends about the mystical Korl, a northern tribe beyond Daein dedicated solely to riding wyverns through the icy, forbidding climate that lay in the northern regions. And now to find out that it was true; it was like when he first saw Ashera and it registered that goddesses and gods really were real. Life-changing. The two men simply stood staring at each other, their eyes glittering. Even when Rebecka cleared her throat, obviously trying to get them to get back on track, the two men did not move.

"OK! That's enough talk of giant wyverns! Let's get back to the matter at hand boys; are there bandits here or not?" Rebecka spat out reproachfully, yet her angry speech was drowned out by the shriek of a massive wyvern. The mayor's eyes widened, his irises almost disappearing completely and his pupil dilating. He began to stutter.

"Th-th-they're back! P-please you m-must help us! They've k-killed one of us already!"

With one last shudder and shake, the mayor ran away to his house, slamming the door. Haar looked up and saw a massive brick-red wyvern flying overhead, a rider encased in golden armor upon its back. A platoon of bandits, myrmidons, archers, and a few thieves came rushing towards the pentad from the direction of the gate. Haar tensed up, trying to decide what to do. He should probably help his troupe down on the ground, but it would leave them open to attack from the air. Without wasting another moment on thinking, he made his decision.

"Zihark, Mia, form a protective barrier in front of Rebecka and Ilyana. Back up to the pond! I will take care of the rider."

He jumped up onto Celica as the four of them got into position, Zihark and Mia in front, Rebecka and Ilyana behind them. They were ready to go. With a loud roar, Celica leapt into the air using her powerful hind legs, propelling herself toward the circling wyvern right above them. Right as they took off, Haar heard the sounds of battle commence and then the screams of dying and injured men. He unlimbered his poleax from his back, gripping it in his right hand, while taking out a hand axe and holding it in his left. With one last powerful beat of her wings, Celica and her formidable rider rose up to meet the other rider.

The creature was even bigger up close and his rider was no less unnerving. His golden armor was shaped oddly, the shoulder plates ending in exotic flutes, and his helmet had an odd ridge rising up in the middle of it, making it look like a hunched over human back. The man held a lance of impressive craft, looking like it was either silver or steel. He twirled it above his head, his wyvern letting loose a roar equal to that of Celica's, and they charged.

Haar, anticipating this move, kicked down on Celica, forcing her into a low swoop that went underneath the red reptile. He swung up his axe but the wyvern realized what was happening at the last second and pulled almost straight up, clipping Haar in the shoulder with his tail. Although his armor rang with the force of the grazing, the hit was not enough to seriously hurt Haar. Flipping over, Celica took Haar straight up, chasing after her opponent. She bit at his tail, but he swung it out of the way and then rolled over, intending to slash Celica across the face with his razor ebony claws. At the last moment however, Celica pumped her wings, propelling her back at a position that left her vulnerable, soft belly open to the wyvern's teeth. Before he could deal a death bite though, she whipped her tail up, striking him under the chin and the force of the blow causing him to perform an aerial backflip in order to maintain his momentum. The acrobatic maneuver was done eerily fast, and the only way to avoid his retaliating bite was for Celica to freefall to the ground. Haar hung onto her with only his legs, knowing that a slight release in the pressure holding him in place would cause him to fall to his death. Celica flipped a few times, and when she righted herself, she shot up.

Meanwhile the brick wyvern had dived straight down towards them. At the last second, he opened up his wings, and to avoid running into his outstretched wing, which was lethally dotted with small claws, Celica twisted her body. Haar readied his axe for a decapitating blow, intending to let the cyclonic momentum to carry his axe and hit the gold-clad rider before he had a chance to react. Right before his blow landed, the rider brought up his spear and blocked his swing, pushing back on Haar's axe and batting it away. Both of the wyverns swung around, and for the first time, the two warriors faced each other at far enough distance that they got a few seconds rest.

Haar kicked Celica forward at the same time his enemy did, both of them intending to play a deadly game of chicken. However neither of them backed off, and the two wyverns met a ferocious clash of scales, claws, teeth, and steel. Celica wrapped her legs around the red wyvern, her claws digging into the grooves in between his scales, her wings beating furiously to stay airborne. The two wyverns clawed and bit at each other while Haar and the other rider sparred with one another. The two humans were evenly matched, each one meeting the other's blows, neither one more overpowering than the other. But it was Celica who was weaker. The brick red wyvern was stronger than her, and despite her slight speed advantage, she could not fend him off. He bit down on her shoulder, bringing the other rider dangerously close to Haar, in fact close enough for the other to whisper in his ear. The gold clad soldier swung his lance forward, but in such close proximity, Haar did not have the room to block the attack with his poleaxe without hurting Celica. As a last ditch effort, he swung his hand axe in an arc in front of him, and through sheer luck, managed to hit an exposed wood part of the lance, shaving off the deadly pointed end. However the lance still hit him in the chest with enough force to knock him off Celica's saddle and begin his descent to his death upon the ground.

At the last minute, the rider grabbed Haar by the leather strap holding his chestplate together and leaned in close to him. Haar tried to get loose but there was no purchase that he could find, and he was essentially fighting against the air. He could smell the man's breath, a mixture of onions and putrid beef.

"My name is Selice. And my mount's name is Blaze. Fear us.", the man rasped, his voice deep yet wheezy.

Haar snorted, trying to maintain some humor before his death.

"Ha! What an original name."

Selice growled threateningly and pulled Haar closer, his red eyes alit with fury.

"Nox will burn for your interference with our plans. Know that you cannot save your friends or ever stop us, and drown in dread. Now die!"

With that the man let go of Haar and he was falling. He felt weightless, and in a sense it was comforting, like lying down on a soft bed. With his back to the ground, he would not know when he hit it, so his death would be sudden, fast, and painless. He heard Celica shriek when she noticed that he no longer sat astride her back, and she released her grip on Blaze and dove down after him, but both she and he knew that she would never reach him in time.

Suddenly, he felt a hard oomph, and all the wind was blown out of him. He waited for the pain to come, but it didn't and it was then that he felt a pair of arms holding him, and realized that he was still falling fast. The beats of wyvern wings suddenly filled his ears, and Haar thought that he would live until a gust of wind rocked his body, his savior, and the wyvern bearing them both. The person lost her grip on him, and within a millisecond he was falling, and a millisecond after that, Haar hit the ground.

For a second time, all the breath was knocked out of him, but this time he also felt pain and steadiness of solid ground. Hoof beats vibrated across the stone pathway and through his blurry vision he saw a squad of cavaliers riding towards a somehow isolated Rebecka. She was firing arrow after arrow, but in her fear none hit their mark. But when they were almost upon her, Haar saw Celica swoop in and hit everyone single one, knocking some of the riders off their horse. Then a person filled his vision, her long red hair swooping down past her shoulders in a ponytail, her large pink eyes filled with anxiety.

It was Jill.

His vision became even more blurry and the last two words he heard before he blacked out came from her mouth:

"I'm sorry."

---

She lost him. Damnit, she had lost him. They had just entered Melior and had been walking through the streets for no more than two minutes, headed to some bar, when they ran into a wall of people. She had no idea why so many freaking people were all crammed together in one place, and she couldn't see her environment as she surrounded by people. Having grown up in a big city, she guessed that she was in the marketplace and if this was true, then she would have to push her way through to Loyd. The idea of simply walking away and leaving him and this "kidnapping" behind never occurred to her. The assassin had become a part of Aimee's life without her realizing it. No longer was he an intruder, forcing his way into her existence, but an accepted, welcomed person in her world.

For the past six days, in fact, ever since she and Loyd both broke down and snapped after talking with the old cat, the two had oddly become closer. She didn't know how exactly it had happened and things weren't exactly chummy yet as she was still wary of him and his profession of murder, but she trusted him. Above all else, she needed him, at least up until now. In the wilderness he had helped her to survive, hunting food for her, sheltering her from the elements, and he even created a bag out of deerskin for her. She still wore it even now, its strap entwined with flowers, grass, and other various flora that she had picked up along the way. Loyd was sweet in a way, kind and gentle once he got to know you and you warmed up to him; Aimee sometimes had trouble imagining that he really was a killer. But all she had to do was think of Lord Felirae's body lying mutilated on the floor, his wife sprawled in a pool of blood, slowly dying, and she felt immediately sickened with the assassin.

He had yet to tell her his story of his past, of how he was trained to kill at a young age and had no knowledge of anything else. She believed his vague hints at his troubled past however, no matter how much they may have been a convenient excuse or justification for his barbaric actions. It could have been because of her terrifying childhood, of how she grew up with pain, suffering, abandonment, and constant movement from one tragedy to another. If Loyd truly did have even half as much of an agonizing youth as she had, then she would be connected to him in a way that would be unbreakable, a bond forged out of similar pain and suffering. No longer would he be a cold-blooded killer; he would be a helpless victim. Aimee knew that, at least for a while, she would be following Loyd and if she was to do this, she wanted to be able to trust him completely.

She again scoured the crowd for his familiar blue cape. It was hard to believe that he hadn't noticed that she was gone yet, and she was a little hurt. What if he had abandoned her! Just left her to fend for herself! She was a helpless, fragile, beautiful woman who wasn't strong enough to last on her own, especially being in a big city, with all these men who would for sure want her, maybe enough to attack her. A man was necessary to protect the poor girl! She couldn't go through pain of her childhood again.

There! A sea blue cape flitted around a chunky peasant woman, the man wearing it slipping by so gracefully that the woman didn't even realize that he was there. Aimee began to run, snaking her way through the crowd after Loyd. But even though she was graceful and very coordinated, the assassin was more so, and her running speed was the same as his walk as she ran into people every other second. Then the crowd parted, and she was finally able to pick up speed and gain on him, her eyes glued to his cape that streamed out from behind him. Just out of her tunnel vision, she saw a mercenary in light blue and a cleric in cherry red, their respective pink and brown hair pulled up in a ponytail. But before she could stop it, the pair moved right in front of her, and she barreled through, knocking over the indignant cleric. She kept on going, determined to keep Loyd in her sights, and from behind her she heard the cleric admonishing her friend for not helping her up.

But then he was gone. Loyd had somehow slipped back into the crowd when she wasn't paying attention, and now she couldn't find him. What Aimee wanted to do most was throw her hands up in the air and shriek, but she restrained herself, knowing that her obnoxiousness and shallowness was what had made people hate her. She was determined to change her persona around, to become more like what she used to be, a kind, strong independent, but it was hard. Her ways had become entrenched and she supposed that if it hadn't been for Ike, if it hadn't been for their talk by the bonfire in the snow after Ashera's judgment, then she would have never realized just how annoying she was. Ike was so much to her now, more than a simple token of affection; he had been her friend for the last weeks of the war and thanks to him, she had found herself.

She owed him so much. Forgetting that she was supposed to be looking for Loyd, she slowly slipped back into nostalgic memories. It had been a cold winter night and the watchfire had been huge, its wood popping and the flames reaching for the heavens…

"Excuse me? Miss?" a woman said, touching Aimee's shoulder gently. Aimee turned around, frightened and most definitely on guard, so when the woman blanched, Aimee cringed. Her face must have looked scary.

"I'm sorry ma'am! I didn't mean to look so scary!" she said earnestly, hoping that a quick smile would allay the woman's fears. But all she did was back even further back into her fruit stand. "What do you want?"

"The man I saw you chasing, the one in the blue cape," she paid, pointing to a small alley behind her, "he went that way."

Aimee muttered a thank you and headed off in the direction the woman had pointed, scouring the back alleys of Melior. It reminded her of her childhood, from when she was just a young girl abandoned by her parents roaming the alleys, looking for food and shelter. And then the nice woman from the orphanage had come and taken her there, to this place of happiness and love and friendship with all the other children. But then something horrible had happened and she had blocked it out, and the next thing she could remember was being the apprentice to that horrible old man, to the shopkeeper.

She was in a seedy part of town, with a lot of bars and scary looking people. It was understandable why an assassin would come here to talk to his employer; no soldiers or nobleman would dare come down to such a nasty part of town. An assassin would be safe, unknown and forgotten, and possibly, to those who knew him, even revered. Aimee inwardly scoffed at such fools and didn't even think about how she was one of them, how she was chasing after a killer for hire because he made her feel safe and wanted.

Then, underneath a rotting bar sign that said "The Bloated Pig" advertising the 'Only real pig meat in Melior!', Loyd stood, his arms crossed and seemingly waiting for her. A faint smile crossed his face noticeable only by his glinting eyes, as the smile didn't reach his mouth. He had an eyebrow arched, and Aimee recognized it as the face he made when he was trying to hide either his surprise or how impressed he was. She sometimes found it hard to believe that he really was a cold-blooded murderer, one who took lives for money.

"I'm impressed. Not many people would be able to find a spy under normal conditions but you tracked me down through a crowd." Loyd said, his voice full of praise and impressment.

"I had help. So it's not really that amazing." Aimee muttered, slightly dark and angry. She couldn't believe that he had left her just to play some game! He was a stupid, idiotic, immature, foolish, sneaky, clever, mean, cruel…

"Part of being a good spy is asking questions to get information. It makes you versatile."

"Last time I checked, I was just a kidnapped shopkeeper, not a spy." Aimee spit out bitingly.

"Well, last time Ichecked, you were a kidnapped maid who just a got a chance to run away and didn't take it. So really you're here of your free will now." Loyd retorted, his hands on his hips.

"You wouldn't have come and found me if I had run?" she asked, very curious as to what his answer was. She wanted to know how important she was to him; it could change everything.

"Truthfully?" he queried.

"Yes. Be honest."

Loyd sighed and then rubbed his eyes with his tan, weather beaten hands. To Aimee it looked like he was having a hard time finding the right thing to say.

"Fine then. Honestly, I would've wanted to. You were taking a while to get here and I got worried and wondered if you had gotten lost or if someone had snatched you or something like that. Then I remembered that Ihad kidnapped you as well, and that if you didn't want to come find me, than you got that right. So I wanted you to be here with me but I was ready to let you go I guess. Then I saw you turn the corner and…"

"What a pretty speech." Aimee said sarcastically.

"Come on!" he whined, sticking his lip out, "I just threw myself out at you and you make fun of me!"

She smiled, amused at his antics. He…was great, like the perfect person, the man that she needed. But then she looked at his tools, at his instruments of death, at those goddess damn bloody knifes and she wilted inside. Why? Why did the man that she fell in love with, because she truly thought she was falling in love, have to be an assassin? Of course it was just her luck that her guy would end up being a killer for hire.

"Ok. That was sweet. And I came back and I don't think I would've left Loyd. You're right, I'm here of my own free will. You're a good guy. You're nice, funny, sweet, caring, it's just that…" she walked forward, stopping really close to him and touching his sheathed knives, "these don't belong on you."

Aimee looked up at him and saw that he was wincing and refusing to look her, instead focusing on some point on the roof across from them. Maybe she could get him to stop killing, get him to settle down with her, open up a shop, and live the ideal dream of marriage, happiness, and children. She sighed and shook her head; who was she kidding? The man was a killer, apparently trained since childhood, and she couldn't take that out of him no matter how hard she tried. Deep down she was just a hopeless romantic and her situation was killing her with its lack of a happy ending.

"I know they don't. Come on, let's go to talk to my employer. Maybe this will be the last time I'll ever see him."

Aimee's hopes were suddenly reborn. For all she knew he was contemplating murdering his employer but she chose to believe that he was hinting at quitting his job as an assassin. She walked into the bar after he held open the door for her, a true gentleman, and then walked in behind her, heading straight to the beefy bartender. His eyes were sparkling, symbols of surprised excitement, and she saw that his enthusiasm was directed toward the bartender. The two of them must know each other, she thought, not paying this phenomenon much attention and turning her thoughts back to Loyd. That she had met him the way she had and in only a little over a week had already become friends with him, or maybe even more than friends, confused her. She should hate him but something stopped her. The more time she spent around him, the more innocent he seemed, the more like the victim instead of the culprit.

She walked up to the bar and sat on a stool next to Loyd, waving to the bartender. He raised a hand in return and turned back to Loyd, an indignant look on his face.

"Loyd! This is not like you boy!", the man shook his fist at the assassin, "Kidnapping a poor maid and then forcing her here to meet your employer. I thought you were decent; at least you used to be better than the rest of them. You and Brown at least had consciences…"

"Um…excuse me? Just to tell you, I'm here of my own free will. I have chosen to be with Loyd." Aimee spoke out, unsure if she should even be talking.

"Oh, yeah, okay sweetie. Smitten with his good looks then?" the man said disbelievingly as if he didn't think that Aimee knew exactly what she was getting into. "Goddess knows you aren't the first. But honey, the boy kidnapped you and quite frankly, I think you're still scared he's gonna kill you. Now trust me, Loyd's a good guy, just in the wrong profession. I've tried to get him to stop many times but, well, it's my fault that he won't. I was the one who brainwashed him into killing as a boy."

The man ended on a somber note, hanging his head ashamed while Loyd looked away. While they seemed to be good friends, it was obvious that this was a tender subject. Aimee just sat there, her mouth agape.

"Come on, you can't blame yourself. It's not your fault, it was just your job. I mean you're still important to me and everything…" Loyd said.

"BOY! DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT!"

Aimee shrank back in her chair, more than a little frightened. They were lucky that it was only her, Loyd, and the bartender in the establishment, or else there would be a lot of explaining to do. Or, she guessed, just a lot of killing considering the people she was with.

"I MADE THE FIVE OF YOU INTO COLD-BLOODED ASSASSINS! I have sinned beyond reckoning, bringing forth five demons into this world! At least you and Brown…" the man continued to shout, but his voice lost its volume slightly.

"You can call him Volke, you know. He's a human being just like me!" Loyd shouted back, albeit quieter and a little calmer.

"Wait. You guys know Volke?" Aimee asked, but she was ignored.

"Fine then boy. You and Volke were the best, the best killers we had but…there was never enough time to turn you into emotionless psychos before we were destroyed by Daein. At least you guys still have some morality, some conscience, and considering who you brought in, you still have the capability of human connection. She's a fine lass Loyd.", the man kindly, his temper dying down.

"Yeah.", Loyd nodded, "She is. And she's tough. I don't think she has cried once, well, except for that one time…"

"Let's not bring that up Loyd. But I'm glad that I did, if it wasn't for our talk that day…I wouldn't be here. And what is this talk about Volke and assassins and brainwashing and all this crap!" Aimee said, her voice raising to high and panicked squeak at the end.

"We'll talk about it later, okay?" Loyd reassured her.

"You better boy. This girl is traveling with you out of the goodness of her heart and quite simply, I have no idea what the hell her thought process it. But she's special, let me tell you that. There are not many ladies out there who would follow an assassin, and the only other one I know of would be Thunder."

Loyd winced and avoided contact with the man, choosing instead to look over his head at a beer stain on the walls. Aimee knew he was trying to avoid something, most likely a painful memory about this girl named 'Thunder'.

"How are the rest of them Frank?"

Frank sighed and shook his head. He pulled out a cloth and began to wipe down the already spotless bar, simply wiping the same spot over and over again. It looked like Loyd was not the only one trying to avoid bad memories.

"I don't know boy. I haven't heard from Volke in ages, in fact ever since before the Mad King's War. Rumor is that Wind is still at large in Daein, supposedly helping out with their southern insurgency. That boy always did like to cause trouble with no thought of the consequences. Freaking sociopath, he can't feel a damn thing, not even pain. Fire has been off the grid for a while now, I think he's dead. He always was careless, always valuing strength over subtlety. And Thunder…goddess knows what she's doing. Apparently, all the remaining members of the previous Begnion senate have died of poison, leaving Empress Sanaki in complete rule of the country right now. You and I both know how much Thunder liked messing around with poison, I wouldn't be surprised if it were her. I'm so proud of you and Volke boy; you two haven't given in to the joy of killing. But your last job…I just don't know what to think of it." Frank said.

"I know, I know. My employer said that it was for the good of Crimea, and I love this country, even enough to kill for it. Plus, I don't get my money until I complete a job, not before." Loyd responded, obviously unaffected by the news of his old friends' endeavors.

"Well your employer's right boy. There have been a bunch of mercenaries leaving Melior for Felirae; word is that the Lord and Lady were planning a second rebellion in order to avenge Ludveck's death. But apparently, even with the death of Felirae, the revolt is still going to happen. Speaking of which, you probably need to get back there. Your guy is in the very last room down the hall." Frank said, leaning forward a little, "And take the girl with you, the man wants to see her."

"Did you see his face? Find out who he is?" Loyd spoke quickly and quietly, leaning forward over the bar to whisper in Frank's ear.

"No, sorry son. He had that hood on again. Now go!"

Loyd got up and headed down the small, narrow hallway behind the bar, motioning for Aimee to follow him. She shot one more nervous, uneasy smile at Frank the bartender and followed Loyd, hoisting up her long, tattered pink dress so she could move her legs easier and catch up to the man. When she did, Loyd opened up the last door on the left and walked briskly inside. She followed tentatively, tiptoeing her way into the room. Like most rooms in seedy inns, it was made of rotting wood and roughly hewn grimy windows that let in next to no light, leaving the room in a dusty twilight.

A man, presumably Loyd's employer, sat at a table in the center of the room, facing the door. It looked like he was wearing dark brown robes and a massive hood that completely obscured his face. Aimee could not make out a single feature and was completely freaked out. She couldn't see the man's eyes but she felt them on her, looking her over and inspecting her body. She shivered and looked away, trying to see the view from outside the grimy, disgusting window. But she still heard Loyd and his employer's brief yet menacing discussion.

"I heard about the assassination. You did a fine job but I did not instruct you to kidnap the girl. I told you that if anybody saw you, you were to kill them. And now there are four people who saw you and know that you killed Felirae. Your mistakes will be docked from your pay." a deep voice said, the slightest hint of a threat present in his voice.

Aimee heard no response from Loyd, so she assumed that he was just nodded his compliance and his assent. And now she knew for sure; Loyd was a good man. He had let her and those three maids, Wendy, Sofia, and Dorothy live even though he would get in trouble from his employer and lose his pay. Plus he was trying to save Crimea from being torn apart in another civil war and it wasn't like the Lord and Lady would have been caught and executed for treason anyways. Loyd had just done the inevitable.

"Now the rebellion in Felirae is still going to happen.", the hooded man continued, "It will be led by the Captain of the Guard. I want you to go to Felirae and sabotage the rebellion but don't kill the Captain of the Guard. The crown will need a culprit to execute. There will be a woman with light blue armor and pink hair there. I want you to kill her and her companion."

---

"Soren."

He felt a light shaking on his shoulder through the misty haze of sleep and he groaned. He wanted to go back to sleep, he was tired damnit! Whoever was shaking him awake was going to get one nasty bruise on their forehead if they were still around when he opened his eyes. Goddess knew what time it was; for all he knew, it could be the middle of the night or the middle of the day. This colony was always submerged in darkness and although he tried to get to the garden every day, sometimes the lack of a ceiling would reveal the harsh, biting desert sun or the cool starry night. So his cycle of sleep had been totally disrupted. He used to go to bed late at night and wake up in the early, early morning but now he had completely lost track of time and just went to bed whenever he felt tired.

"Soren! Wake up!"

It was definitely a female voice, growing indignant and angry as time passed on. By now he was fully awake, but he still kept his eyes lightly closed and his breathing long and steady to feign sleep. He wanted to go back to sleep; he had been having a dream about the Greil Mercenaries, a group he missed more than he thought he ever would. They had known nothing about him but now he realized that they had always accepted him despite his bitterness, bluntness, and condensation. Of course here in the Branded colony people accepted him but he was also another one of their kind. It was only natural for the pariahs of society to stick together, in fact it was necessary for survival. But before, during the wars and his stint as a mercenary, people had accepted him, even people like Ranulf, Skrimir, and Nasir, whom he was pretty sure knew what he was. And they hadn't ousted him from the army or ignored him like most Laguz would; in fact, he could say the Skrimir might have been a friend. It was hard to believe that he had been so blinded by hate and past abuses that he didn't see how people had changed.

"Soren! I swear if you do not get up right now I will smack you!"

Soren groaned for a second time. It was Elle. It was just his luck that the most annoying, loud, screechy person in the whole colony would decide to come wake him up. He needed awhile to get up and to wake up and he was not in the mood to be hurled out of bed and go do something stupid or foolish like eating breakfast. Food was gross.

SMACK!

He shot up in bed, moving his hand to his cheek which was tender and stinging from Elle vicious slap. His reflection in the mirror across from his bed showed a skinny, messy little mage with black hair who had a red handprint blazoned on his face. Soren looked over at Elle who was currently laughing her head off, clutching her stomach with tears rolling down her face. Soren growled and she looked up, immediately backing up and ceasing her laughter, her mocking eyes wide. He smiled the most sadistic grin he could, pointed at her, and uttered a phrase in the ancient language, summoning a gust of wind. She dashed out of the room, and Soren thought that he had missed her, but when the door slammed shut from the gust and he heard a yelp, he grinned. He had always wanted to kick somebody out on their butt.

Rolling slowly out of bed, Soren rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleepiness out of them. He stumbled over to his robes laying in a heap behind his small dresser and picked them up, sliding them on. It was not time to go to work, but he guessed that if Elle came to wake him up than it was important if only because Elle liked to sleep for about fifteen hours each day. He swore that all she did was sleep and eat. Soren began to trudge over to the door until he realized that he had left his Elwind tome on dresser beside his bed. Flopping on the pile of sheets atop his mattress, he pulled himself to the small dresser and grabbed his tome, quickly flipping through the pages. They were worn and the ink was beginning to get smudgy, so he decided that later in the day he would get a new one. Taking a deep breath, for the second time that day (already two times too much), Soren rolled off his bed, walked to the door and went outside, slamming his door shut. Elle stood in front of him, Stefan right behind her, and Hesper leaned against the wall across the hall.

"Don't you dare do that again, Soren. There will be consequences." Elle tried to say threateningly, but the comic glint in her eye caused her desired effect to epically fail.

She was standing awfully close to him, so just to push her buttons he narrowed his eyes and slowly pushed her away from him. She just crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow as if to say 'bring it on'. Stefan stood behind her smiling, but his grin didn't reach his eyes. He looked drawn and worried, like another atrocity had happened.

There had been quite a lot recently, starting ever since Elle had gotten attacked by the amuka uren'not. Later that day, a tunnel had collapsed right outside the Great Hall, shutting off half of the colony. Luckily it hadn't blocked the garden or his room, but Soren knew that now things would be much more cramped, not to mention the people who were living beyond the collapsed tunnel had not yet returned to the rest of the colony. Everyone assumed the worst. Then the next day, the garden and apothecary were sabotaged. Someone had set fire to the small patch of tomatoes that were ripe and ready to be picked, leaving the colony without vegetables for at least another week until the next crop was ready. Then someone had broken into the apothecary and broke all of the physician's staves and scattered her medicinal herbs everywhere. Soren had been down there for the past two days helping her pick and trying to fix her staves. Some had been salvageable, but the restore staff was broken which meant that if the amuka uren'not decided to attack…it was too horrible to even contemplate. The only good thing that had come out of it was that Soren had become friends with the physician after he got over her amuka uren'not like looks.

Hesper leaned up against the wall, once again seemingly uninterested in anything that was going on around him. Soren had found out that he was like Sothe, who used knives to fight and could pick locks and pick pockets, which just made him even more suspicious of him. Apparently, at every single incident that had happened over the past few days, he had been the first one there, crying for help and assisting in minimizing the damage. Soren thought that he might be cause of all the problems, but the people loved him now and idolized him. If he was behind everything, it was a clever, sneaky ruse and Soren was waiting for him to seize power from Stefan. It was the only logical reason as to why he suddenly wanted the support of the general populace.

"Okay, now that Soren is finally ready, we can head over to the wise woman." Stefan said, marching off. The rest of them followed him, Soren walking quickly to catch up to Stefan and talk to him privately.

"Why are we going to the wise woman? What's so important about her?" Soren asked, as he had not yet followed the physician's advice of talking to the wise woman about the amuka uren'not. However, everyone in the colony sung her praises and said that she was the only one capable of miracles. He was skeptical; the only other time he had seen such fanaticism was around Micaiah, the Maiden of Dawn.

"She can see things. The future, the past, into a person's soul. And she has many other powers that none of us know about. Look, Soren. I need to talk to her, and you know why. Things have been falling apart around here and I don't think that it's just a coincidence.", Stefan leaned in closer and whispered in Soren's ear, " Plus I want her to check out Hesper. He's…suspicious."

Soren simply looked to Stefan and nodded his agreement. Hesper was indeed very suspicious. He knew nothing about the rogue's past, or even what country he hailed from. He had an accent that was very, very exotic though, it reminded Soren of high mountains and deep, expansive forests shrouded in mystery and darkness. It was strange too, that he held no resemblance toward anything Tellian. In fact, everything he did, including the way he walked, seemed foreign. And since he had just popped in out of nowhere, at least according to Elle, then maybe, just maybe…

"Hey! We're here! I am SOOO excited, I haven't seen the wise woman in ages! Aren't you excited Hesper? This is your first time!" Elle screeched, shaking Hesper back and forth.

"Actually, this is not my first time, and will not be any time. I will not bed an old woman in some dingy dungeon such as this one, so no I am not excited. If this is going to be some primal bacchanal, then I will be leaving, thank you very much." Hesper said icily, looking at the three of them with dead eyes.

"Whatever. You're a sicko." Elle said, rolling her eyes and walking in. Stefan glanced at Soren, who shrugged nonchalantly, and the green-haired swordsman walked in after Elle. Soren turned to Hesper, who was still staring at him with the same eyes.

"Come on, let's go inside. And if you run away or refuse to go in, I will turn on you and chop your greasy, shady, little body into a thousand pieces." Soren said, his voice low and threatening.

"Hmph. What an eloquent and subtle threat. And considering your magical prowess, I have no doubt you could play the butcher for a day. I suppose I have no choice but to acquiesce." Hesper said, slightly mockingly.

"Let's go." Soren responded deadpan, and motioned for Hesper to go in first.

After walking into the room, they were hit with the stench of musky fur, burning wood, and most of all, the stench of a dirty old woman. She sat in the middle of the rock walled room, bundled up in a nest of furs next to a roaring fire. Her hair was a shiny blonde, looking exactly like pure spun gold, and her skin was so pale that it was almost translucent. Her eyes were the most shocking though; they were a grass green, the exact same shade as the royal heron siblings'. She looked up at them, her eyes wide and bright, and smiled hugely at Soren, her hands shaking with excitement.

"Ah! It has been so long since I last met one of you child! The dragons are so reclusive; we never see their Branded descendants anymore. O you are strong child, so very strong; I can feel it in the air! And such power is your ancestry…" the woman tittered, her voice high and moony.

Soren looked over at Stefan, but Stefan just shrugged. He guessed that the old woman was some kind of heron-blooded Branded who could see into people and find out their roots. He growled; no one was supposed to know about his heritage except for him and Pelleas, but now Hesper, Elle, Stefan, and this crazy old lady did. He hated his parents, and he had no wish to rule Daein like Pelleas did. He still remembered when Pelleas had told him, when he, Micaiah, and Soren had been in the Grann desert after Ashera's judgment. Since Micaiah's group was first attacked by the Disciples of Order, and almost wiped out, both Micaiah and Ike had joined forces and headed down to Sienne together. But Soren had taken Micaiah and Pelleas down to Grann, since they were both obviously Brandeds, he had felt it, to find Stefan and the colony and hopefully recruit them to their cause. But they had only found Stefan, and it was then that Pelleas told him of his heritage. He had stormed off, and had only come back to the group after three days.

Stefan laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey. Are you okay? It can be a major shock to find out where you came from, I know it was for me."

"I already knew." Soren said stiffly.

"Oh. Was that when that boy, what was his name, Pelleas, told you something in the desert and you disappeared? I bet its rough you know, to be related to dragons, I mean they are just so cold and distant." Stefan said, trying to make him feel better or at least establish some kind of mutual understanding, but Soren just whirled around at him, his red eyes blazing. Nobody else saw as they were too busy with the wise woman, but Stefan did shrink back a little.

"You have no idea! My father was the craziest, most demented man on Tellius. My mother is an obsessive dragon princess who is currently scouring the continent for me! Yeah, my parents are Ashnard and Almedha; you bet your ass that it is as hard as hell! I would have rather not known!" Soren whispered to Stefan furiously, trying to get as much rage out as possible.

"At least you know that one of your parents will love you! When my Brand appeared, my parents threw me out onto the streets of Sienne and then told their neighbors to hunt me down and do whatever they want with me. I had a ransom placed on my head! And then I find out that the taboo relationship was over six hundred years ago, and that the damn Laguz who started my life of pain and suffering was Soan! One of the threes heroes who defeated Yune! If that is not hard and confusing and completely unfair, then I don't know what is. So get over it Soren. It could be worse."

Soren glared at him, but turned back to the wise woman. She was beckoning Hesper closer and he listened to her, stooping down on his haunches next to her. Her eyes went wide and her body went rigid after she touched his hand. She stayed like this for a minute, then her bright green eyes began to glaze over and her body began to loosen and almost deflate. The wise woman looked weak and defeated and when she began to talk, it came out a wimpy mutter. Soren didn't exactly know what she was doing but he guessed that when she started babbling it would be about whatever she was seeing about Hesper's past.

"Ah! Foreign, foreign lands, they come to me from you child…I see an island of sand but it is not your home no, no, just where you work, yes but none know that, none now except me, yes, yes. Horses! Horses! Thundering hooves upon the ground, the ground rumbles with speed, power, hate, loneliness…a ring of mountains surrounds the sea of trees in the ocean of water, alone, left alone because of hate, it is your childhood, this is your home. Long journeys across the sea, the ocean, the sky, salt in your hair, wind in your mouth, water on your face. Betrayal. It is your future, it is you, you are lies, lies are your life, you are sneaky, clever, bad, sabotage! Evil. Evil is you, evil is your master, it is your medicine, your death. Evil, trickery, lust, hate, tyranny, murder, rape…BACK AWAY FROM ME DEMON!"

She ended on a scream, clenching Hesper's hand tight and then swinging him, leaving him to fly across the room. He would have broken his neck, but he managed to roll at the last minute and end up on his feet. His face was completely white and for the first time he looked scared. Hesper looked around wildly at Soren, Elle, and Stefan, and then sprinted out of the room, taking a left and supposedly heading to the Great Hall. Stefan motioned for Elle to chase after Hesper, which she did at a sprint, matching the escapee's speed, and then he knelt down beside the wise woman.

"Bianca. Are you okay? I have never seen you do that before.", he said worriedly.

"Oh child, you have always been a good one. Kind and caring, yet that is not something you got from your ancestors. Go Soanevalcke, and be wary. You may not find yourself in good hands."

He nodded and ran out of the room, hurrying after Elle and Hesper. Soren began to leave as well, glad to leave the musty, stinky, hot room. Breakfast sounded nice right now, as after listening to the wise woman crazily rant had been exhausting, if not eerie and haunting. He was now more and more suspicious of Hesper, and where he was from. Horses? What did they have to do with anything? Before he passed under the doorway, the wise woman called out to him.

"Wait, child! I must speak to you."

"What?", he asked, turning around angrily. He wanted to leave.

"Child we must talk. I have seen your future."

"I doubt that."

"Your father was the mad king, your mother the mad dragon princess. Don't believe me now? Well I don't care, I will tell you anyways. You must stand up for what you believe in. Child, you can't let that man that was just in here win, got it? He must not take control! And you WILL fulfill your birthright, child, and you must do it without hesitation and with brutality. Your time for heroism will come. Give in to your hate, let it consume you. You will redeem yourself eventually. Now go! The battle draws nigh!"

He moved to leave, and then stopped. He was intrigued by where she came from. Lehran was supposed to have been the only heron to mate with a human child, at least according to Sephiran, so that would mean that this woman here would have to have been the apostle once.

"Where are you from woman? You and I both know that the heron Brandeds only come from the line of the apostle. So which one are you?"

"Child, there is so much you don't know. I have traveled far and wide, both in my mind and on foot. The line split at the beginning child, the apostle is not the only one who can hear the heavens. Now go! The survival of Tellius rests in your hands!"

Soren gave her one last weird look, and then took off. The Great Hall was not far away, and he thought he heard a loud commotion coming from there. By the time he rounded the last bend in the tunnel (it was an especially curvy one), a crowd had already gathered. They surrounded Stefan, Elle, and a couple of others and although they were relatively civilized, Soren could detect an undercurrent of anger. He ran up to the middle of the crowd and squeezed his way through until he was right behind the people in the front. Hesper was leading them.

"Dear little Stefan," he said, cool, calm, and confident, "you are so very unobservant. You ask us what you have been doing wrong; have you not seen how this colony has been the past few days? It's a mess. And I won't lie, you have ruled here for many years and even founded this safe haven, but the people feel that it is time for a change of pace. Someone new, they say, something fresh. So we all are just here to ask you to step down. Face it, it's time Stefan."

Stefan was clenching and unclenching his hands which Soren knew meant he was angry. Elle had a reassuring hand laid on his shoulder, gently squeezing it.

"You! Nobody even knows who you are! You can't just walk in her, pretend to like me, and then try and take my position! Do you have any idea how much I have gotten this colony through? A hell of a lot more than you could! So I am telling YOU to step down and get…"

A beefy man with a massive lance had stepped forward and held the tip at Stefan's neck. He audibly gulped, and the majority of the crowd around Soren smirked. He had no idea what to do, but he had to stop this somehow. Gah! It was like his brain had taken leave and was off wandering the world!

"Now, now Stefan, don't make us use force. The people have asked me to be their leader, and of course one can only listen to their people's demands! But I will not have disobedient men under my command so Stefan, it would be safest for you to step down and give in. It's for the best really. Just let me assume command peacefully and easily."

Soren growled. This man was a master of manipulation and of words. Even to Soren's ears, Hesper had made Stefan sound like an idiot even though Stefan was in the right and Hesper was being…well he had no idea what the hell Hesper was being. What had the wise woman told him? To stand up for what he believed in. Well, when it came to ruling a group of people, he, like Ike (and the Laguz, although he was loathe to admit it), felt that only the strongest should rule. So in that case…

"Now, now, now Hesper, let's not be so rash." Soren said condescendingly, "We can't just let ANYBODY be ruler! That preposterous! I mean look at all these Beorc countries; they rule by blood and not skill and look at how weak they are! Do we really want to be like that?"

The people around Soren began to nod in assent, and he smiled. He was playing on their pride and their feeling of superiority over the common human. They would back him up.

"I say that since some people want Stefan to rule, and some want you to rule, Hesper, than you guys should fight for it. A battle, with real weaponry, and whoever wins gets to rule the colony. It's fair right? No rules, no restrictions, no nothing except your weapons, your clothing, and your body. Now that's a real assessment of someone's skill!"

The people began to clap and cheer. Soren guessed that he had some skill at politics or that these people were just very easy to convince and to change their minds. Hesper had stepped forward and unsheathed his knife, Stefan shrugging off Elle's hand and drawing his sword. He looked and Soren gratefully, and Soren nodded back. Hesper was sneering, the physician looked confused, the wise woman had come to watch (he could smell her stench), and Elle looked excited, shocked, and scared all at the same time. At this point the crowd was cheering, stomping their feet, and yelling so loud that Soren could not even hear his own thoughts. He looked darkly towards the two fighters, the both of them in fighting stance and just waiting to lash out at the other. Soren realized, in the blink of an eye, that this event would define the rest of his life, and that this was his turning point, that everything would stem from here. He muttered three words, so soft that no one could hear them except him.

"Let it begin."

---

I hope you liked it! Now first off, just a few things.

I forgot to mention this last chapter, but the olivi grass enhances the Laguz aspects of the Branded. So (look back to chapter 3), Elle got better eyesight and glowing eyes because she is descended from cats, Soren got physically stronger because of his dragon heritage, etc.

Second, I said in the first author's note that I would be changing some things from the game. Well they showed up in this chapter. So I will give a quick explanation. First off, Aimee didn't get turned to stone but the rest of her convoy did during Ashera's judgment leading to her epiphany (will come later). Soren, Micaiah, and Pelleas went to the Grann to recruit Stefan by themselves (just so the character's would have better knowledge of the other's personality). Lastly, Sephiran and Lehran in this fic are NOT the same person. I will elaborate on this a LOT later but for now it is important to remember that.

Thirdly, Ike makes his return next chapter! Yeah!

Lastly, my inspiration for Bianca, the Branded wise woman, came from the Hybrid from Battlestar Galactica. Yeah, I'm a nerd, get used to it. ;P

So I hope you liked it, and the next chapter will be out by next Sunday. I promise! (You can hold me to it.)