It's been a long, hard journey, but here we are at Castle Caelin. I'm proud to present the end of Lyn's story. Thank, you, all my reviewers, for helping me get this far. There's more to come, of course, but thanks nonetheless.
Chapter 10: Of pseudo-endgames and farewells
"It's odd. Didn't you tell the nomad Rath to relieve himself of honor and be free?"
Mark paced back and forth. "This is different."
"Oh yes, young mortal," said Gabriel. "Things are always different when they happen to you."
Mark continued to pace.
The realm of the dark had changed. It was now a post-apocalyptic city, complete with crumbling skyscrapers and a sense of gloom. Gabriel, who apparently could change his form at will, was a smiling, handsome businessman, clad in black suit and carrying a briefcase. However, he still had red eyes, and still carried with him the scent of funeral flowers, though the smell was milder than before. Above all, he still spoke in the same upbeat voice.
"I've killed people with that gun before… but they were bandits. Eagler deserved a better death."
"And what, little human," asked Gabriel, his eyes twinkling, "would you consider a good death? Being crushed under a carriage as you push a little girl out of its way? Donating some of your liver, but dying in the operation?"
"You know what I mean—"
"Death is death, Mark, no matter how stylish or glorious you are when you die. Battles should be fair? Life is not fair."
"It should be," said Mark.
Gabriel threw back his head and laughed.
"It should be! Such a quaint notion, young mortal! Humans themselves make the world unfair, Mark, and you are only human. Conform to the standards of your kind, and play dirty!"
Mark remained silent as Gabriel entered another laughing fit.
"The U.S. uses top-notch military equipment against its enemies. Is that not playing dirty?"
"We've had approximately four-thousand casualties!" protested Mark.
"As opposed to…"
Mark sighed. "Approximately twenty-thousand insurgents dead."
"Exactly." Gabriel leaned in close to Mark. "Your enemies shall grow stronger. You will not be able to match them strength for strength; you will need stealth and guile. Use every advantage, honorable or not, for you, young mortal, are no knight bound by petty chivalry. Your enemies must be but flowers crushed under your feet."
"I still don't like—"
"Good," said Gabriel, adjusting his tie. "If you begin to revel in death, then you have gone against everything that you have tried to become."
Mark sighed unhappily. He must have looked mutinous, for Gabriel continued talking.
"When is a medic permitted to fire his weapon?"
"When those under his care are in danger," answered Mark.
"Your soldiers are in danger, Mark," said Gabriel. "By killing the enemy you are giving the Legion more chances for life. Pity those you kill, yes, mourn them, yes, but refuse to kill them, no."
"Right," said Mark.
"I also have another thing to talk about. You need to amp up your performance, Mark. Koheleth brought you into this world to keep the group together, not to tear it apart. You must be the anchor."
Mark stared at the ground. Yes, he hadn't exactly behaved like a leader. What he had done to Kent and Lyn was unacceptable, and he was lucky that they had been understanding enough to forgive him. "I understand."
Gabriel grinned widely.
"Cheer up, human! If you win the next battle, you will get a break!"
"A long one?" asked Mark, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
"Very long!" guffawed Gabriel. "And I shall give you a haircut! How about that?"
Mark smiled in spite of himself. "Sounds good."
"Righto, young man," said Gabriel. "Oh, and I have some information for you, concerning the next battle. Take care of Lord Wallace."
"Wallace?" Mark snorted. "Surely he doesn't need to be taken care of! He's a beast!"
However, Gabriel looked grave.
"Look after him, Mark! I truly mean it!"
"Fine, fine," said Mark, "It was nice talking, but I think I need to go back."
"Not so fast. I have something for you."
Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the briefcase lifted into the air. Gabriel opened it and slid it around so it faced Mark. Inside…
"MANGO!"
"Eat it, and then you can go," said Gabriel as Mark rushed forward, his hands outstretched. "I'll be watching over you."
"Like a guardian angel, eh?" asked Mark, cutting open the mango with his whittling knife.
For some reason, Gabriel found this very funny.
"Ugh! It's so wet!"
"Don't complain, Serra. At least Sain lent you his horse."
The group slogged through ankle-deep mud. It had been raining on and off, and Mark could see more storm clouds in the distance. His combat boots were perfectly suited to the task, but everyone else, especially the horses, was struggling.
"I'm not complaining!" said Serra. "I was making a statement!"
"My mistake," said Mark, glowing with contentment due to the fact that he had recently eaten his favorite foodstuff. He felt as though he could take on the world, and picked up the pace, high stepping through the mud until he caught up with Lyn.
"You'll be meeting your grandfather soon."
Lyn nodded, her face set and determined. Mark watched her for a moment, then slowed until he was walking by the side of Wallace.
"Feeling all right, big guy?"
"Haha! I'm feeling great, whelp! This mud shall not slow me; I shall simply slide across the top in an unstoppable charge!"
"Like an armored penguin," muttered Mark.
"Penguin?"
"Forget it."
"Sir Mark," said Kent. "Once we round this mountain, the Caelin castle will be in sight."
"Good," said Mark, rubbing his hands together. His gloves chafed together uncomfortably. "We'll end this."
"Nice place," said Mark from underneath his boonie. Rain was pouring down fiercely, hitting the group like many pebbles.
"It's not usually this rainy…" said Kent.
"Whatever," said Mark. He reached into a belt pocket and pulled out his binoculars while motioning for Florina to take to the skies. He couldn't see many enemies….
"Mark... this is it."
Lyn had come up behind him.
"Yep," said Mark, "Are you ready?"
"Are you?" asked Lyn. Mark nodded.
"They will be but flowers beneath my feet."
Lyn smiled grimly. "Keep out of trouble, will you?" Mark, not listening, looked to the skies.
"Florina's back."
Florina's pegasus alighted on the muddy ground, neighing as its sides were splattered with mud. Florina was looking confused.
"Sir Mark! There… there aren't many enemies!"
"Really?" Mark turned to Kent, "Caelin has an army, right?"
Kent was looking confused as well. "Maybe they're all in the castle, waiting to ambush us."
"Great," said Mark. "We're all going to die. Might as well die with style."
Death is death, Mark, no matter how stylish or glorious you are when you die.
Mark sighed. "Charge," he said, glumly.
The group picked its way through the mud at a painfully slow rate, moving towards a solitary bridge in the distance. Wallace, Lyn, and Mark took the lead, with Mark keeping an eye on Wallace. He was looking fine, eager to fight. They ran into their first enemies: a archer, a spearman, and a mage.
Lyn drew the Mani Katti and leapt forward at the spearman, who raised his spear defensively. Wallace clanked after the archer, who fired an arrow that bounced off his armored arm. Mark took the mage.
The mage began spellcasting, but Mark remembered what Gabriel had told him about him having an abnormally high resistance. When the fireball came, he didn't try to dodge, and the mage was shocked when Mark strode out of the magical flames like an avenging angel. The fire was quickly extinguished by the rain.
The spearman worked his spear furiously, but anyone could see that his defense was slipping against Lyn's relentless assault. The archer was backpedaling, firing arrows at the approaching behemoth as Wil stepped up, notched an arrow to his bow, and fired, hitting the archer in the chest. The mage tried to cast another spell, but stopped when Mark elbowed him in the face. A knife slash soon followed. The mage staggered back, his arm and nose bleeding. Dorcas tossed his handaxe, and Mark was splattered with blood as the mage's head flew off into the distance.
Mark liked this. Not the fact that they were killing people, but that the Legion proceeding forward, surgically and efficiently killing off troops. Mark hoped, that by some strange twist of fate, the Caelin Army wasn't in the region.
Another archer fired an arrow. Mark dodged. He had to be more careful…
Wallace roared and ran forward, his footsteps clanking across the mud. He leapt forward onto his stomach, sliding across the ground.
"Like a bloody armored penguin…"
The archer tried to move, but his feet slid on the mud. Wallace hit him and he was flung head over heels. He lay on the ground, groaning, as Dorcas chopped his axe downward.
"Where did these cavaliers come from?"
The ground was harder here, and five cavaliers charged forward, lances and swords swinging. Lyn tripped Mark as a javelin went flying at him; he fell in the mud as Lyn leapt forward and chopped at the thrower's horse. Mark sputtered. In the space of a couple of weeks, he had been splattered with blood, dust, gore, and mud. He hadn't taken a single bath, either. He probably smelled terrible...
"Cavaliers gone!" roared Wallace, banging a bloody lance against his armor. Mark groaned and got to his feet.
"There's two bridges," said Mark, looking back and forth. It looked like he would have to split up the group.
"Wallace, Matthew, and I will head south. The rest of you, go west. We'll meet at the castle."
The group left, leaving Matthew, Mark, and Wallace behind. The rain began to come down again, pattering off of Wallace's armor. Mark sighed and pulled his boonie down over his head.
"Let's get moving."
They walked through the mud. Matthew looked left and right, hand clenching his dagger, but Wallace looked confident. Mark watched him. Gabriel had told him to watch out for Wallace, but why? He was a little old… was he about to have a heart attack? No… Wallace was too fit for that. Besides, if Wallace had a heart attack, there would be little he could do…
Chanting… Sounding as though a thousand voices were speaking at once…
"WALLACE!"
"Eh?" asked Wallace as a dark magic circle appeared around his feet.
"MOVE!"
It was too late. The flux leapt up and enveloped Wallace in a shroud of darkness. It dissipated quickly, and Wallace crumpled to his knees.
"Har har… ow…"
"Go, Matthew!"
Matthew looked nervous, but ran forward. A dark circle appeared around his feet, but he quickly dodged to the side and continued running forward.
Mark ran to Wallace's side, put his shoulder to his, and pushed. Wallace toppled over as another magic circle appeared around his feet. The darkness rushed up again, but this time, Mark, not Wallace, was there to greet it.
Mark felt his mind go wonky, every thought jumbled. This shaman was stronger than the last, but still caused very little harm to Mark.
The darkness cleared, along with Mark's thoughts. Matthew waved to them, standing over a fallen shaman. Mark turned to Wallace, who was slowly getting to his feet, rubbing his head.
"Sorry about that slight, Mark…"
Mark smiled. "My name is whelp."
"Shops!" cried Matthew. Mark looked into the distance. It was true, there was a shop and an armory. He turned to Wallace.
"Go with Matthew and get some weapons. I'm going to visit that village."
"All that's left is the castle…" said Lyn as Wallace came forward, carrying a few strange lances and a giant hammer. Mark and Matthew followed him; Mark was carrying a strange ring. He handed it to Lyn.
"Some guy at the village told me that this would make me stronger… you take it. Matthew says it's called an energy ring."
Lyn slipped it on, and it immediately disappeared. Mark smiled.
"Of course. More magic…"
He looked up at the castle. It was medium-sized, as castles go, but still looked imposing.
"So… Lundgren's inside. We'll just walk in and kill the old fart. I mean, he probably won't put up much of a challenge, right?"
"Somehow," said Sain, readying his lance, "I think he will."
A general clanked out of the castle gates, carrying an ornate lance. He was nearly as tall as Wallace. He removed his helmet, revealing a wrinkled man with long hair, and laid his eyes on Mark's attire.
"Hmph. A foreigner, with interesting stories to tell. Nevertheless, you are a trespasser. Unfortunate that I must kill you."
Lundgren looked at Lyn.
"And you are the one who calls herself Lyndis. You look just like Lady Madelyn, but looks are not good enough to rule…"
Lundgren turned to Wallace.
"Lord Wallace, I pulled you out of retirement to capture the girl, not join her."
"Ha ha!" roared Wallace. "That little plan went awry, didn't it?"
"Indeed…" said Lundgren. "Honestly, Wallace. Do you really think she is fit to rule? She's lived out on a plain for all her life. She knows nothing of politics. I know how to rule. Caelin will prosper with me."
"At least she's not an usurper!" yelled Sain.
"Sain and Kent. You two have so much potential… it's not to late, you know. Join me. Even if you defeat me here, the Caelin Army will still be at large. They will return from their searching and kill you for killing me. So, join me and live."
"Enough!" yelled Lyn. "Lundgren! You die here and now, by my hands!"
Lyn readied her sword.
"You're not going to all attack me at once?" asked Lundgren. "Hm."
Lyn charged forward, screaming in rage. Mark blanched.
"Kent, Sain! Help her!"
Lundgren scowled and put on his helmet, his voice booming.
"This is my realm, and you've entered without my permission! You shall not leave these lands alive!"
He moved fast for a man swathed in armor, swinging his lance at Lyn. She ducked underneath it and swung her sword. Lundgren stepped out of the way and twirled his lance, readying another attack.
Kent and Sain drove their spurs into their horse's sides and charged forward. Rath aimed an arrow, but couldn't fire for the risk of hitting Lyn, who was dancing about Lundgren, unable to close in and attack. Wallace clanked forward. Mark stood back, watching fearfully.
Kent arrived at Lundgren's side and swung his armorslayer. Lundgren stepped out of the swing, but the sword managed to clip off a bit of Lundgren's shoulder guard. Sain aimed his lance at Lundgren's chest and hit the man dead on. The lance, damaged from a week of combat, splintered and broke on Lundgren's armor.
Then Wallace entered the fray. He reached back and swung the hammer. It crashed into Lundgren's armor, which dented as though punched in by an invisible fist. The false marquess staggered to the side.
"You traitor!" cried Lundgren.
"You're the traitor!" yelled Wallace, swinging the hammer again. Lundgren avoided the swing and pushed his lance forward. It easily punctured Wallace's armor, hitting him in the side.
"Damn!" Mark leapt forward, but he needn't have.
Lundgren's armor seemed to curve away as Mani Katti burst through his chest. Lyn stood behind him, gritting her teeth in anger. Lundgren coughed.
"No… this shouldn't be happening…"
"It just did," growled Lyn. She pulled the blade out of his chest, and he collapsed.
"Ha, ha ha! You… you just wait… The Caelin… armies… won't let this stand… ha…"
Lundgren crumpled in the mud. Mark snorted.
"Wallow, you pig. Wallow."
"Left… left… left-right…… Left… left… left-right… HALT!"
A small sea of red soldiers stopped their tracks. An oddly-dressed man was blocking the army's path to the caste, standing on… oh dear.
The general quickly jogged forward, armor clanking, to confront the man standing on Lord Lundgren's body. The soldiers watched as the man conversed with their leader, and tensed. What had happened while they had been searching for Lyndis?
They were about to find out, for their general turned and cupped his hands over his mouth.
"LADY LYNDIS HAS CLAIMED THE THRONE!"
The soldiers were silent, digesting the information. The strange man stood up to speak, so they listened, eager for information.
Lyn clutched her grandfather as though he would disappear if she let go. After all that fighting… finally. Her clothes were stained with Lundgren's blood, and she was getting the bed sheets dirty. Her grandfather didn't mind.
"You're right… Lyndis… I have much more living to do… Who's yelling?"
Councilor Reissmann, who had been silently standing in the doorway, walked over to a window. He threw it open, and the group was greeted with a wave of sound.
"LYNDIS! LYNDIS! LYNDIS!"
Lyn let go of Lord Hausen and walked to the window.
"Put me down, I tell you! Down! You do not… aagh!"
Mark flew into the air once again, then fell back down, arms flailing. He was caught by a group of cheering soldiers, then thrown up again. The entire Caelin Army was jumping about in glee, shoutin and hugging each other.
"LYNDIS! LYNDIS! LYNDIS!"
Lyn rested her elbows on the windowsill and laughed softly.
"Mark… what did you do?"
"I feel as though I have been ripped apart and put back together by a blind man."
Mark rubbed his shoulders and groaned. The celebrations were still going on, but he was having none of it.
"So," he said. "What are you going to do? Stay here?"
"Yes," said Lyn. "I've got to stay until my grandfather gets better."
"Hmph," said Mark. "Well, have fun."
"What? You're… you're leaving already?"
"Are you asking me to stay?" Mark questioned.
"No… but you need to say goodbye to everyone!"
Mark laughed. "Oh, come now. I'm the sole black mark on a good trip. It'd be better if I left quickly, and didn't ruin the party…"
"Mark! What do you mean by black mark?"
"I nearly killed Kent. I shouted at you. I caused disaster and nearly split the group apart."
"No… Mark, we all forgave you!"
"Ha," said Mark. "You're so determined to be my friend… I'm evil, Lyn."
"Listen," said Lyn. She stepped forward and took Mark's hands. "No matter what happened in your past, you helped me. No matter what you did, I'll always think fondly of you. You have a good heart, Mark, whether you believe it or not."
A manic glint appeared in Mark's eyes.
"See this gun, Lyn?" He motioned to the ground, where Apologetic Irony lay. "You know what it can do?"
Lyn shuddered slightly. "Of course."
"What would you think," asked Mark, "if I told you that I pressed a similar weapon to the forehead of an injured man, who was pleading for me to spare him, and pulled the trigger?"
Lyn was silent. Mark grinned wildly and laughed.
"See? See? You—"
"I would think that your sorrow must haunt your days, denying you peace, and I would hope that you would find it within yourself to work towards redeeming your actions and freeing your soul."
The manic glint disappeared. Mark let go of Lyn's hands and stepped back.
"I… that's… well… thanks."
Lyn smiled sadly. "You should say goodbye to Sain and Wallace, at the very least."
Mark shook his head. "No, Lyn… I really should go."
"It's getting dark! And it's still wet! Stay in the castle for a night!"
"I'll stay with Gabriel," said Mark. Lyn looked quizzical, so he explained. "Koheleth's not my only celestial acquaintance."
Lyn sighed and rubbed the back of her head.
"I guess I can't convince you… Mark. Thank you for everything… It'll… I'll miss you."
Mark put forth his hand for Lyn to shake, but she rushed forward, placed her arms around his neck, and hugged him. Mark sighed and returned the hug.
"Oh… Mark what did you tell the soldiers?"
Mark smiled. "Ask them yourself."
"We'll… meet again, Mark. I'm… sure of it."
Mark let go and bit his lip. So much had happened. It seemed only yesterday that he had been sucked down Koheleth's magical rabbit hole, falling onto the plains of Sacae. Mark grabbed the duffel bag, placed the shotgun across his back, and held the cloak out to Lyn.
"Here's your dad's cloak back. Thanks for letting me use it."
"Keep it," said Lyn, her eyes glistening. Mark sighed and threw it over his shoulders. He turned and walked away, looking over his shoulder from time to time, over and over, until Lyn was out of sight.
"Mark!"
Mark jumped and stopped. Koheleth himself strode out of the forest. He was dressed in the same tunic at last time, and his eyes were as piercing as ever. He approached Mark, his hand outstretched.
"I want to congratulate… Mark?"
Mark huffed angrily and kept walking away.
"Oi! I'm talking to you!"
"We have nothing to say," growled Mark.
Koheleth fell in step with Mark. Mark refused to look at him, keeping his eyes forward.
"Why are you angry, Mark?" asked Koheleth. "You've won! You've secured Lyndis's birthright!"
"I've talked with Gabriel," said Mark, finally looking at Koheleth.
Koheleth stopped dead. Mark stopped as well.
"Gabriel! That blasted shape-changer! What lies did he tell you?"
"He told me that you're searching for my replacement. He told me that you've lost faith in me, and that you are just waiting for me to die."
"No!" cried Koheleth. "That… that… he tells lies! He's trying to trip you up! Why should you trust him over me? Why?"
Mark smiled. "He's given me wisdom. He's given me support. He's given me a mango, and he'll soon give me a haircut. What have you given me, other than this blasted shotgun?"
Koheleth's face screwed up with anger. "He's fooling you, Mark. You'll regret that you ever associated with him! Believe me! You'll rue the day you met that creature!"
"We're done here," said Mark. He began to walk away. Koheleth didn't follow.
Hoorah! Lyn's story is over! Now we can get on with the meatier stuff!
What do I have planned next? Eliwood's story takes place one year after Lyn's. What was the tactician doing during all that time? I plan to put up one chapter about Mark's travels before moving on to Eliwood. I know I'm going to enjoy writing it. It just know it…
Glee! Glee for everyone! Oh, read and review, please.