Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem, or any characters used so far.
I always considered Ephraim a rival, even when we were small. I was never going to give an inch of anything to him, and convinced myself he was a pompous, no good low life who couldn't be trusted. Ephraim, for some reason, never became very embroiled in our rivalry. He would take up my challenges, but more for my honor then for want, and often he beat me, except with a bow.
Later in life, though I always still thought of him as a rival, I came to respect his strength. Ephraim was always strong, always quick and ready. He was always more adventurous then I was, and much more boisterous. He took up a task for the sake of seeing what it would bring, and not simply for his own gain. Eirika was always right there with him, matching almost everything he did with her own strength, and forcing him to become stronger as she did.
Tana and I were never like that, and I envied Ephraim for the closeness he had with Eirika. He could talk to her about things that really mattered to him, and she would listen, and know what he was talking about. Part of me wished I could talk like that with Tana, but part of me knew we could never meet on any level like Eirika and Ephraim did.
Part of Ephraim insisted he had been here for months, but he knew it had only been a week, or maybe even less. His stomach insisted it was hungry, but he had just eaten,. His arm insisted it hurt, but it had been healed. His body refused to move fluidly, insisting it was weak, but he had eaten twice a day every day, and rested more then enough for two men.
Ephraim pushed himself off the bed he spent most of his time on, and waited for his head to adjust. It was tedious getting up and down. His body didn't want to support him, and his head hurt whenever he moved. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and waited for his mind to catch up with his actions. His heart pounded, and his arms shook, but he hadn't passed out yet. He usually passed out when he tried to stand up.
He wanted to stay down, and rest, but he needed to move around. He couldn't the Demon King know how badly he was doing. Ephraim had decided as long as he kept his strength and will up he could battle off the Demon King's attempts to take his body. So far there had been no attempts, except the first one, which Lyon had assured him wasn't really an attempt at all.
Lyon- Lyon was now a complication, and a mystery. Ephraim was angry at him, perhaps more then Lyon deserved, and sad. It was still hard to believe Lyon had unleashed the Demon King, and done another number of things that Ephraim had never thought him capable of. He had attacked Renais, and had Ephraim's father killed.
Ephraim forced himself to stand, and staggered. He took a few quick, and jerky steps to the nearby table, and grabbed it. His right arm burned when it touched the table, and he jerked it back, nearly knocking himself over. Ephraim's breath came fast, catching in his throat. He gritted his teeth, and resisted the urge to sit back on the bed and give up.
'Eirika would beat you around the room twice for thinking such things,' Ephraim scolded himself, and forced himself to lean off the table, and walk a few steps. It wasn't as hard as he thought it might be, but his head still swam sickly. As he walked the feeling faded, and soon he felt he was in little danger of falling over, much less passing out. He had to hold his right arm to his chest, but he walked.
Ephraim finally allowed himself to sit down, and looked at the room. He had paced it several times, and convinced himself it didn't hurt as much as he wanted it to. He felt as if he should be falling over in agony, but he was really only achy, and in slight pain. His arm was the only thing that really hurt. His mind seemed to be his largest problem. It insisted things were different then they were, and that was troubling.
Certainly Ephraim had operated under more strenuous situations then the one he was currently in. He was sure he had. He had been sick during his campaign through Grado, and that hadn't slowed him down much. He was beginning to think the Demon King had adopted a new strategy for wearing him down. Ephraim knew very little about magic, but he was certain that 'illusions' could be cast by dark magic. Things that effected the mind, and not the body, but could, by the minds urgings, effect the body in ways the afflicted was not likely to notice.
That made Ephraim mad, and he stood up again. How dare the Demon King think him weak enough to succumb to an illusion! He was a seasoned fighter, the Prince of Renais, he would not let something as fickle as an illusion mess with him. He would not! He was already over coming it.
The large double doors suddenly opened. Ephraim spun around, and he fell. He cursed himself, and scrambled vainly for his footing. Lyon was striding towards him, but Lyon had never walked in such a way. Lyon, even now, never carried the dead look that held only malice and cunning. The Demon King stood in front of Ephraim, obviously gloating. It sent hot waves of fury through to see the Demon King standing there as if Ephraim was no threat.
Even unarmed Ephraim was a good fighter, and all he wanted to do was smash the Demon's face. He wanted to strike out as hard as he could, and make sure the Demon King never moved again. It was foolish, thinking he was any match for the legendary Demon King as he was, but he still wanted to try. Part of him raged against the thought of letting anyone, especially not the Demon King, gloat over his predicament.
"Yes, you could smash the frail face in front of you. You could do it easily. That's why your body is better. It's stronger then this one, so much stronger," the Demon King chuckled, though it almost sounded like he was choking, and drew a nail across Lyon's cheek. The skin tore like paper under the touch, and red blood welled over Lyon's cheek. The Demon King smirked. "Yes, it hurts, doesn't Lyon? How pitifully weak you are."
"Stop!" Ephraim jerked forward, and grabbed the Demon King's hand. The looked of amusement on the Demon King's face was sickening. The Demon King smiled, and Ephraim went cold.
"Does it still trouble you? Ever after everything Lyon's done? Even after he destroyed your country? You still don't want him to hurt? Shouldn't you want him dead? Don't you want him to hurt in any way you can?" The Demon King asked. The voice was too different to be Lyons, but part of it sounded like Lyon. Ephraim opened his mouth, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't breath.
"It would be easier to give in, and just let me take over. It doesn't matter, after all. You won't be able to resist forever." The Demon King hissed. "The sooner you give in, the harder you can fight me in your body."
Ephraim hissed, which was the only sound he could manage, and scowled. The Demon King scowled, obviously catching the gist of Ephraim's retort. He scowled, and thought suddenly left Ephraim. Two cold fingers touched his forehead, and pain blossomed across his skin. It burned, shooting straight back through his skull, and branching along every nerve. Ephraim could only think of the pain as it burned along every inch of his body, encompassing him. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. All he knew was pain, and that if he succumbed to the nagging little voice he could be rid of the pain.
If he only stopped fighting for a little while he could be free of the mind-shattering pain.
Franz cinched his girth up tighter, and his horse shifted, pinning her ears, and looking back at her rider. Franz chuckled, and pushed her nose away from him. He wouldn't put it past the mare to try to nibble on him, if he wasn't careful. She was in a foul mood today.
"Easy girl, easy." Franz looked up, and found Forde holding the mare's nose, and rubbing her forehead. "There, that's it." Forde looked up from the horse, and smiled his normal teasing smile. "So, Duessel is taking you on another ride with him? You're moving up in the world, little brother."
Franz felt his cheeks heat, and checked his girth again. "We're going to looked for another place to camp."
"Yeah, I know. Vanessa and Cormag left a few minutes ago, but something tells me there looking more for monsters then anything else." Forde sighed, and leaned his head on the mare's head. "Be careful, okay?"
"I will," Franz promised. "Don't worry, you need the energy to get better." Franz smiled, and fastened his lance to the saddle.
Forde rolled his eyes, and smiled again. "I'm almost better, it's just Father Moudler who thinks I need to take it easy."
Franz smiled back. "But his opinion doesn't count much. After all, he's only been caring for wounded men since before you were born."
Forde rolled his eyes. "Want a leg up? Duessel is almost finished with his mountain of a horse."
"Sure," Franz agreed, not because he needed one, but it made Forde feel like he was doing something. Normally his brother was a supreme slacker, but lately he had been restless, and that was beginning to worry Franz. Forde grabbed Franz's ankle, and counted to three before helping boost his brother into the saddle. Franz bounced in time with the count, and pushed off hard on the third number.
Forde caught the mare's bridle, and looked up at Franz as the younger fixed his feet properly in his stirrups. "Be careful, okay Franz?"
Franz frowned slightly, and leaned down. He grabbed his brother's arm. "I will. I'm always careful about these things Forde. You be careful to, and don't do anything stupid, okay? We need you here."
Forde laughed, and brushed off Franz's hand. "I will be careful." Forde chuckled, and stepped back. Franz glanced at Duessel, and found the man already mounted, and ready to go. Franz tapped his mare's sides, and she jogged sedately up to Duessel's stallion. Franz saluted, and pulled his mare to stand square.
Duessel nodded to him, and turned his stallion away. "We'll be going towards a small mountain range. It should provide a suitably defensive position for us." Duessel supplied to more explanation as they moved through the camp. Franz felt uneasy, and wished he had told Forde to be careful one more time, or with more force. He always worried about what hair-brained thing his brother was going to do next, but lately the worry had turned into a fear.
Franz paused in his thoughts to wave slightly to Ewan, who was being extra cheerful to make up for everyone else's gloom, and looked back ahead of him. Everyone was preparing to move out, and most people only glanced at the two men as the rode out. On the edges of camp Artur sat with Mrryh, keeping watch. Mrryh looked at Franz in a way that made him shiver, and he realized he hadn't seen much of the dragon girl since Ephraim had been captured.
Duessel urged his stallion into a quick, lumbering trot, and Franz followed quickly. It was an easy pace to maintain for long periods of time, but he hoped they wouldn't keep it up for too long. If they had to run then it would be easier to get away with fresh horses. It occurred to Franz he was being a little paranoid, but he tried to shrug it off as caution.
The mountain range Duessel had mentioned was not too far away. The riders entered the foot hills in less then an hour, and then they slowed down. The mountains were closer to Grado Keep the their current campsite, but they would have a better position for defense in the hills. Franz kept his eyes open, and listened studiously for anything out of the ordinary since entering the foot hills.
The hills had been getting steadily steeper, and Franz wondered how much farther they could go. Duessel finally drew his horse to a stop, and dismounted. They had come to a large plateau that was sheltered on three sides by cliffs. Duessel walked out into the middle of the plateau, and looked around, gauging the potential campsite.
Franz dismounted as well, and was pleased to find that the ground was hard beneath his feet. It looked large enough to fit their camp on, if they doubled up a few tents, but the problem would be getting food, wood, and water. There had been several mountain streams, but wether they would be enough Franz wasn't sure. Being sheltered on three sides with only one side open for escape was another potential problem.
"There's a cave over there for another exit," Duessel said, motioned to one cliff. "I've stayed here before, but never for more then a month at a time." Franz nodded. He had thought Duessel would know of some place they could stay. Now they just had to move everyone here, which would be a challenge. It would be hard, if not impossible, to get the supply wagons through the mountains.
"We should head back now. This place should be far enough away from Grado Keep to avoid notice." Duessel mounted again, and started back towards camp. Franz swung into the saddle and wondered exactly why the man had needed to check the campsite he seemed to know so well. Maybe he had been afraid Grado forces would be there already.
Franz whipped around, his hand flying towards his sword. His mare twisted with him, and stood ready, quivering with anticipation. Duessel looked at him, and then the sparse foliage. Franz let go of his sword, and hefted his lance. The Javelin would be better then a sword.
"Show yourself," Duessel ordered, his voice like a thunderclap. Franz watched as the foliage shook, and a man appeared on a rock. He looked down at them, and Franz tightened his hold on his Javelin. The man didn't look like he was from Grado, but who could say for certain where he was from?
"Easy now, you don't want to kill me," The man cautioned, but he stood on his rock. His brown hair was held back from his face with an embroidered head band. "I've got some information I think you'd like to hear."
"And what information would that be?" Duessel asked, his voice still low and dangerous. Franz just waited, silently ready to kill or wound the man at the slightest indication.
The man smiled, and held his hands up. "I see you're not on for pleasantries, but humor me. You two are from the camp a few miles form the base of these mountains, aren't you?"
"And if we are?" Duessel shot back.
The man chuckled. He was obviously in his element, and knew more then he was letting on. "You're General Duessel, am I right? Well I'm Reanac, and, for the right price, I have some information you'll want to hear."
"And what is that?"
"Why, information about Prince Ephraim of Renais."
A/N:Ooh! Thanks so much for all the reveiws! I'm so happy, and very inspired. Still, keep reveiwing, please, and if you haven't reveiwed please do! Thanks to-Araim, Silver Ferret, narugurlee13, Aemelina, TS, and Neko-chan! Who all reveiwed for the last Chapter! I love you all!
Note, last Chapter's first person bit was Duessel(sorry) and this time it's Innes! See you next update!
