A Quick Review Of Last Chapter: (heck, do people even read these?)
The author, by the name of IceBlade28 glances around quickly removed Serra from the premises, to start with.
Then, the fic began. X had made it to the Dread Isle, and was experiencing guilt about the killing of Fiora's Pegasus Squadron. After he reflected on the strange substance (the nature of which the author will not disclose, and will continue to keep secret until about chapter 30 or 35) which had been removed from him, he disappeared into the misty forests of Valor and headed for the Dragon's Gate. Kent found Lyn, sobbing and tired, in a grove of trees a fair way from the grave of the late Tactician Kaira. It was also there that he confessed his attraction and affectionate feelings to her. Lyn allowed Kent to hug her, drawing what comfort she needed from his embrace to deal with the death of Kaira. Anything she felt after that was not revealed.
Dart and Fargus went after the Davros, commandeered by the mutinous Flaefir and eleven of his cohorts. They found Matthew and freed him from the tranquillising gel on his neck, and informed him of all that he had missed. They were later captured by an expectant Flaefir, though the thief escaped unnoticed.
Leila, the Ostian spy, was exposed by Ephidel and about to be executed by Jaffar when, in a surprising twist, Jaffar questioned his orders. It was then that X interfered, engaging in a fierce but brief duel with Jaffar before being mortally wounded by a well-aimed Elfire from Ephidel. Leila tried to run, but she was cut down by Jaffar. Ephidel later placed her body in the forest, where it was discovered by a vengeful Hector.
Uhai, the Soaring Hawk, invaded and gave them an ultimatum: return Ninian and leave, or die. The three Lord's questioned him about Nergal's sudden involvement with the Black Fang, and he gave them a little information before disappearing into the mist- and the battle began.
Fiora arrived, and was convinced by her sister Florina to stay on with their current army. Florina also made a rather crucial mistake: she revealed that she knew about Hanasu and the death of Fiora's Squadron, when she couldn't have known such things; she had been absent the entire time and no word had gotten out about it. Nevertheless, Fiora stayed on with Eliwood's group.
Erk was struck down in the midst of battle, to be rescued in an unlikely manner by Serra: wielding her Heal staff as an effective baseball bat. Erk's only Thunder tome was destroyed, forcing the pair to run for their lives. Rebecca defeated a cavalier and almost took him alive, before Raven came out of the blue and slew the enemy. She chastised him harshly, perhaps too harshly, until she discovered Raven's identity. The hurt in his eyes was clear as he ran off, and Rebecca took out her frustration on the Nomad that was chasing Erk and Serra. After the incident with Rebecca, Erk and Serra, it was 'Sain to the rescue', offering emotional support as well as physical. For the first time, Rebecca didn't refuse.
And now, finally, we can start the chapter.
Serra: Taylor, I was wondering-
IceBlade28: For crying out loud, Serra, not now! And what have I told you about using my name in public!
Serra: Well, sorry! But I only had a question! Just one question- well, maybe two.
IceBlade28: takes deep breath. Fine. What do you want?
Serra: Well, first off- is there anything special about this jade stone that I've got in my hair? That bad man X tried to take it from me (see chapter VII)!
IceBlade28: Either way, it doesn't matter. I've already used up a page on the review of last chapter, so just- tell me your other question, quick.
Serra: Are Heal staves supposed to be used to whack people?
Iceblade28: Um . . . on with the fic!
Serra: But-
IceBlade28: BTW, my computer got hit with another virus, knocked off some necessary program, and now FE won't run. So, I apologise if some of the people are a little OOC.
Chapter X: The Waiting Game
Lucius bit his lip, looking at the empty sleeve of his robes. The dark magic had left him permanently scarred, and missing an arm. He could barely eat his food, much less be any use in battle. Awkwardly, he rolled his sleeve up and stared at the wound. Nothing was left of his right arm, and the mark where the assassin had slashed it was healing nicely.
The monk paused, reflecting on the green-cloaked man that had saved his life back on the Davros. He was wielding a sword, and yet he was an assassin by class. What kind of assassin wields a sword? The child was not evil at heart, Lucius knew it.
He looked up at a disturbance. It was Serra, pink-faced and breathless, along with the purple-haired mage . . . Erk, that was his name. The mage wrenched his hand from Serra's grasp and walked over to the shelves with the magical tomes on them. Why on earth magical tomes were located in the healer's tent, Lucius would never know. The merchant Merlinus must be too burdened with physical weapons to store something like tomes, Lucius thought irritably.
"Lucius!" Serra cooed, walking over to the scarred monk. "How's your arm? The missing one, I mean." Lucius glanced at his empty sleeve, then back at the cleric.
"It's fine, Sister Serra." he said, before a gentle smile. "Although, I'm a little worried about you. Running away with a mage, holding hands, and then appearing pink-faced and breathless . . ." the monk grinned surprisingly.
"You haven't been disobeying your vows of chastity, have you? You are only sixteen, you know." Serra's eyes went briefly dreamy, and Lucius caught the expression before the usual Serra averted itself.
"I have not been breaking my vows with Erky- Erk! Besides, Brother Lucius," she said huffily. "I have seen you without your shirt on!" Erk whirled around from the selection of Anima tomes to gape open-mouthed at the pair.
"Wha . . . Serra!" he said, shocked. "You've seen him . . . with no-" Lucius, reddening quickly, waved his hands in agitation.
"No! It's not what you think- she thought I was a woman!" Lucius babbled. Erk raised an eyebrow, conveying disbelief while still holding a shocked expression. All in all, he was pretty freaked out. Lucius would have smacked his forehead, but he didn't usually indulge in such redundant activities.
"I'm going to go now . . . Serra, you stay here with your, um, friend . . ." he said cautiously, before leaving the tent in a flash. Lucius sighed, flopping back on the bed.
"Sister Serra, you had to do that, didn't you?" he asked in a resigned tone. The cleric smiled girlishly.
"Of course, Brother Lucius." she giggled. "And I thought you said you were fine with that little accident!" she said, offended. Lucius sighed, staring at the ceiling of the tent in resignation.
"You can go, child. I'll be fine by myself." Serra gave him a sidelong look before shaking her head and trotting out the open tent flap.
Matthew placed a hand against the cold wood wall, moving slowly back into the shadows. In his other hand was his secret stiletto blade; a handy piece of equipment for getting out of tight spots. It was no good in a real knife fight; but for slitting throats or sawing through bonds, there was nothing like it.
Fargus and Dart had both been knocked out and bound when they were caught in Flaefir's ambush. Matthew, fortunately, had stayed back in the shadows of the hallway and avoided detection. So long as neither the captain or Dart gave away any information about him being on board, he should be fine.
All the Ostian needed now was a plan. If he could whittle down the numbers of the mutineers, free Fargus and Dart and somehow get Fargus his weapon, they would be fine.
Matthew smirked, treading lightly down the hallway. It was ironic, really. Still, he had a good example to work off of. Everything X had done to them until now . . . more than one leaf would be taken out of that particular book. Yes indeed.
The spy prised open a porthole covering and crawled onto the outside of the ship, starting to climb. The mutineers were probably dullards, with the possible exception of the archer. Any spy worth his salt should have them running scared and babbling like idiots before killing them. And Matthew was definitely worth his salt. Even Hector had admitted that.
The red-cloaked man peeked over the railing. It was evening, and strange shadows were being cast. A fine mist had also drifted in from the Dread Isle; Matthew felt like laughing. This would just be too darn easy. The two sentries weren't even looking in his direction!
"So, mate," said an axe-wielding pirate, before spitting a large gobbet of tobacco juice on the deck. "What d'you think of this hostage business?" His fellow sentry, a Soldier by class, had his lance resting against the mast, slightly hidden by darkness.
"Dunno. Not really none of our business, is it?" he chirped, adding to the puddle of tobacco spit. "Not none of our concern. Is Flaefir that does all our thinkin', we just follow orders. Leas', don't matter to me, long as I get to stick somefin' wiff me lance." Matthew felt like slapping the man and telling him to shape up. Stupid slack-jawed idiots. He slid over the railing and crept silently over to the mast, pressing his back to the round pole. Matthew judged the lance to be within arms reach, and waited for the right moment.
"So, anyway's, Deagor." said the Pirate, tearing off a large chunk of tobacco. "Yew reckon you could beat me in a figh'?" he drawled, launching another lump of brown saliva into the puddle. Deagor opened his mouth to reply-
When a scraping sound drew both their attention. The pirate turned to the sound, a confused expression on his face. Not exactly an unused expression either.
"Ay, Deagor." he mumbled around a mouthful of tobacco. "Wadn't your lance jus' there?" The Soldier looked at the place where he had lain his weapon. There was a slight scrape across the wood of the mast, but apart from that it appeared that his lance had disappeared.
"Yeah, it was." Deagor said, wandering over to the mast. Slowly, he rubbed a hand over the chipped wood. Behind him, the pirate shifted nervously.
"Deagor, 'urry it up. It's gettin' spooky out 'ere."
"'Ang on!" he shouted, irritated. Slowly, the Soldier walked around to the other side of the pole, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise.
He looked up. And screamed.
Matthew jerked, peering around from behind his hiding spot. He didn't do that! He had gone to the wrong mast! Matthew cursed his mistake; it could cost him. But if he didn't kill the Soldier, who did?
"Deagor? Deagor!" the Pirate shouted. The scream had abruptly died away to a gargle, though there was no 'thump' of the body on the wood. The sun was sinking rapidly, and the mist was growing more pronounced. Slowly, the Pirate advanced, holding his axes tight. Nervously, he wiped a forearm across his forehead. It came away damp. Sweat? At this temperature?
"Deagor?" he called fearfully. Someone breathed heavily on the nape of his neck; he screamed and spun around, axes flashing through the mist. There was nothing; only swirling fog. His breath was jittery; the pirate was hyperventilating. Sweat was soaking his clothes, and he was shivering. Or was he trembling?
"Deagor?" he whispered, sounding like he was going to burst into tears.
"Behind you." said a voice. The pirate shrieked, and a fine sword slashed into the pirate's belly. He collapsed to the deck, bleeding profusely.
Matthew peered from his viewing point behind the second mast. As far as he knew, X had never left the ship . . . but still, he had missed so much. It didn't change anything, though. Could X still be on the Davros? he asked himself, fearful of the answer. The assassin has bested him once already; and with obvious ease.
The remainder of the mutineers stormed out of the captain's cabin, their weapons drawn and ready.
"Who's there?" shouted the archer. "Come on! Show yourself, coward, or I'll shoot you down!" Slowly, a figure emerged from the fog.
"So I'm a coward, am I?" Flaefir asked dangerously. The archer shook his head vigourously.
"Oh no, Captain Flaefir. You're no coward, not now or ever!" The Swordmaster nodded.
"And that's what I like to hear. I am Captain of this vessel now." The Sacaen unsheathed his Killing Edge and slashed the bottom rung of the rope ladder. The body of Deagor fell to the floor, looking completely healthy, except for the expression of naked terror.
And the five remaining inches of lance shaft that didn't go down his throat sticking straight out of his mouth. More than one mutineer cringed at the sight.
"These two," Flaefir said, nudging both corpses with the tip of his boot. "-were slacking, pathetic dullards who decided that as long as they did what they were told, they would be on a happy pleasure cruise. Well, that's not how things work."
From his hiding spot behind the second mast, Matthew nodded in admiration. Flaefir was a heartless, back-stabbing scumbag, but he knew how to motivate his minions.
"I encourage thinking in my subordinates." he proclaimed. "Don't be afraid to be inventive when an easy solution does not slap you in the face." The Swordmaster kicked the pirate in the ribs again.
"Someone dispose of this mess." he said. "And take Deagor and strap him to the figurehead." Flaefir looked at him from side-on, smiling half-heartedly.
"I kinda like him like that." he laughed. He turned to leave, his flowing Swordmaster robes swirling in the fog.
"Oh, and by the way," he said, without turning. "There's another of the gorilla's friend's on board. There was someone else that accompanied Fargus and the ape, Dart. He's still on board, probably listening now. The one who finds him will have a reward waiting, if he brings me his- or her- head, and details of how you did it."
The mutineers scattered, and Flaefir grinned, heading for his cabin. All in all, not too bad a day's work. Sure, now there were only ten mutineers on board in total, but Flaefir wasn't too concerned about that. All he needed to do was root out the whelp hiding on board, and things would be fine.
Matthew froze, still hiding behind the mast. Flaefir was heading straight for him! He inched his way around the mast, crouching slightly to make use of the fog that had now enshrouded the boat. Flaefir's footsteps sounded closer . . .
The Swordmaster paused, next to the mast. He turned, staring at the back of the large, wooden mast. Slowly, he reached for his Killing Edge. There was probably nothing there, but the prickling on the back of his neck . . . Flaefir slashed brutally at the mast, just beneath the layer of fog.
The sword collided soundly with the wood. Nothing. Flaefir centred himself with the mast and went to pull the sword out, when he paused. Carefully, he inspected the blade. Several golden brown hairs were pinned between the sword's fine edge and the mast.
The Sacaen scowled. Doubtless the whelp had been here, and Flaefir had just missed beheading his problem. He would have fled by now.
Flaefir was now livid, and he stomped into his quarters and slammed the door. Matthew, still crouching, slowly breathed a sigh of relief, allowing a shudder to pass through him. A centimetre lower, and Flaefir would have scalped him. An inch closer, and he would have stepped on him.
Matthew hadn't moved the entire time.
Rebecca awkwardly shot an arrow through a thick pile of leaves, and was rewarded with a scream. It was much harder to fire arrows from a horseback; she was only fifteen, for Elimine's sake! Some people wouldn't say that's an excuse, but she felt it was valid.
"My fairest lady," Sain said, dramatic as always. "That was a superbly executed shot! May I say, you are taking to a horse like a natural!"
"Please, Sain." Rebecca said dryly, not really in the mood for a lot of airy poetic flirtings. "That shot was rubbish. I'm not used to riding on a horse; and you only like it because it hitches my skirt up higher." Rebecca had hit the nail directly on the head; not that she would find that out, ever.
"Lady Rebecca, surely it is not so!" The green-haired girl shook her head, irritated.
"Sain, if you had eyes in the back of your head, you would either be staring at my chest or admiring some part of my body! You do it with every single girl in camp, and you even tried to get me to buy a corset in Badon. A corset, knowing full well what I would look like in it! You are a sick man, Sain!"
"But I thought you forgave me for that!" he pleaded, as Rebecca slid off the horse. The green-haired Pheraen held a hand up.
"Sain, you are a sick, perverted man. I don't know why I bothered to come with you." And the archeress dashed off into the mist. Sain sighed, tired of the constant bickering and gossiping about his 'women habits'. So he was a bit flirtatious, who cared? About half the girls in the camp, apparently.
Sain swapped his lance for a sword and nudged his horse into the confounded fog. Maybe it was time to set his sights on another girl . . .
Nah. He would win Rebecca over, no matter the cost!
He swiped irritably at the back of an unsuspecting mercenary, who blocked it deftly and twirled his sword, the point seeking for the cavalier's handguard. Sain pulled it back, surprised. Black Fang mercenaries weren't supposed to be this skilled! The Green Lance paused, his sword in the defensive position. If this one was so 'skilled', then maybe Sain had a vent for his frustration.
Sain swiped at the mercenary's head, before quickly changing direction and cutting vertically. If it connected, it would sever his arm, and the man would spend too much time screaming to prevent Sain's killing blow.
The mercenary not only anticipated the strike, he grabbed Sain's wrist and hauled him off the horse, which quickly bolted.
Sain landed solidly on the ground, and the swordpoint hovered just above his throat. The Green Lance swallowed hard. He had been bested; though he sorely regretted entering Elimine's domain so quickly. He wasn't done here yet! Sain felt like crying.
"You should know by now who are your allies and who are your enemies!" the mercenary shouted, waving the fog away from his face. Sain frowned. He'd seen those cold eyes before, that auburn hair . . .
"Raven?" he asked. The mercenary's face came into view, and Sain breathed a sigh of relief.
"Raven! Thank goodness it's you! I had no idea that was you- I didn't mean to almost kill you!" Raven kept the sword where it was, staring at him coldly.
"It wasn't your fault . . . this fog makes it hard to see." he muttered. "The fog is very thick . . . as far as you and I are concerned, we're completely alone. They won't find you before the fog lifts; the army will have moved on by then." Sain was confused.
"Raven? Can you tell me what the heck you're talking about?" he said. The mercenary shrugged.
"I'm going to kill you. It'd be doing the camp a favour, and the women would sleep easier at night." Sain started sweating, looking cross-eyes at the swordpoint beneath his chin.
"Goodbye, Sain." Raven said, his grip tightening around the sword. The cavalier sent a furious prayer to Elimine, hoping for deliverance . . .
"Hey, Raven! The Lord's have called to rally around them." Rebecca shouted. "Let's go!" Raven glanced over his shoulder at the approaching Pheraen. Sain kept praying, his eyes flicking left and right.
Raven sniffed contemptuously, and lowered the swordpoint.
"Consider this a warning." he said, removing the sword. Then he paused, and flicked the tip back over Sain's throat.
"No." he said. "Consider this-" he flicked the tip of his weapon, drawing a nasty cut across the side of his neck. It bled, but not much.
"-a warning." Raven finished, quickly sheathing his sword and turning to Rebecca, who had breathlessly arrived on the scene. Sain took the opportunity to run with his life intact. The archer watched him go, curious.
"Geez, Raven- what'd you do to him?" she asked sceptically. The mercenary shrugged, clearly uncaring.
"Nothing fatal." he said, before growing defensive. "And you're lucky it was non-fatal; I'm a heartless pig, remember!" The girl shook her head, already upset.
"Look, Raven- about earlier," Rebecca began. "I-" Raven cut her off, a strange look on his face.
"There is a reason . . ." he said hesitantly, as though the words were newly learnt. " . . . why . . . I'm this way. But such things are not to be discussed on the battlefield. The Lord's require us. We must go."
And he left Rebecca again, but this time with the tears in his own eyes.
X opened his eyes blearily, trying to see where he was. He moved his arm weakly; the clink of chains brought him wide awake. It was pitch black, and he was chained and manacled to a stone wall. The sound of rushing magic sounded a few feet in front of him, and a ball of flame appeared to hover in mid-air.
"Well, well. Our guest has awakened." said a voice. X's mind raced, trying to recollect what had happened. He had been helping Leila, the Ostian spy. Jaffar and Ephidel tried to stop them . . . Ephidel had almost revealed information, so X attacked, and-
I remember now- I was hit by an Elfire spell, knocked backwards into a wall and lost consciousness, X thought.
"Ephidel." he spat. The ball of fire drifted lazily over, and the light illuminate both X's face and the glittering golden eyes of the morph, Ephidel.
"So, our little . . . spy has awakened, has he?" he asked evilly, knowing full well what the answer was.
"Yes, I'm awake and fine, you soulless halfling." Ephidel cocked his head at the assassin's odd word choice.
"Halfling?" X was too happy to oblige.
"Yeah. Sorry, monster, but you'll never be human, no matter how much you want it. Nergal is not Elimine. He cannot create humans, only abominations like you. You have no soul, you puppet!" X shouted, the fury shining through his luminescent blue eyes.
Ephidel dropped the smile, his eyes gleaming dangerously.
"I know your secret, X. I know how you were born. You charge me with being less than human, of being soulless . . ." the morph whirled on the assassin, who was struggling hard, struggling against his chains.
"Do you even know yourself!" Ephidel raged, spittle flying from his mouth. "Have you, chained to a wall, looked deep inside yourself, and tried to see what was there? Do you even know if you have a soul, a heart!" The words stung X, though he'd die before he let this morph know how much.
"You don't know what it's like!" Ephidel howled, the ball of fire fluctuating in size. "You don't know, to look inside yourself and see nothing! To have only an abyss within, and to look at yourself, and know that you consist of constructed materials, that you are completely artificial!" X watched the ranting morph with curiosity. He was barking mad, driven by his impulse to be human, and the self-hate which consumed him, knowing it could never be.
"Do you have a soul at all, X?" Ephidel asked, the madness shining through his eyes. "Even Jaffar, ruthless killer that he is, is human. He bleeds, he feels- he felt emotions. He has a soul, a spirit which resides in him, because he is human! Do you feel?" he asked crazily. X pressed himself closer to the wall. This would get ugly before it got better.
"Do you!" Ephidel screamed, launching the ball of fire at X's face. The assassin twisted his neck awkwardly, and the fireball smashed into the rock next to his neck. Searing pain raced across X's neck, though the fireball had missed entirely. He'd probably get a nasty burn from the radiant heat, and the stone debris had left him a long, narrow cut across the cheek.
Ephidel was panting for breath now, trying to regain his composure. With very deliberate gestures, he conjured up another fireball and left it resting in a bowl of oil nearby. It gave off light, but only enough to see about three feet in front of X.
"Jaffar," he said to the darkness. "You will tell no-one of this incident." Ephidel turned to leave, before looking back at the assassin, who's bright blue eyes showed no fear.
"Oh. and Jaffar-" he said, smiling maliciously. "Feel free to have some fun with him. But don't kill him; I want information. Rough him up as badly as you want- feel free to make him bleed, badly if you have to- but don't kill him. I want him alive." And he warped out, leaving only an echoing laugh.
X cursed quietly, and he turned his head to see a pair of stone-cold crimson eyes staring back. The faint sound of metal against leather was sounded, and a pair of gleaming daggers appeared in the torchlight.
A scream resounded through the Dragon's Gate.
Florina was flying just behind her sister, Fiora, her frightened eyes scanning the fog-laden ground below.
"Florina, keep close to me." Fiora called back. "I don't want you flying off alone." Florina nodded meekly, nudging Huey, her Pegasus, in the flanks with her long moccasins. The mount shifted, and it flew a little closer to Fiora's own Pegasus. Florina brushed a forearm across her forehead, moving away the loose strands of lavender hair. Squinting through the fierce wind, Florina began to lose her grip on the Slim lance. She just felt so . . . tired . . . being frightened took a lot out of her.
Slowly, Florina inched forward and rested her head on Huey's mane, closing her eyes. She wasn't going to sleep, she was just resting her eyes for a moment . . .
Florina fell asleep, though somehow kept a hold of her lance. She was back in the dark cavern, with torches adorning the far walls. It was massive, like a mountain had been hollowed out. Pits of lava bubbled all around, and Florina scarcely gave them a glance. She'd seen this all before- the lava, the bubbling pits, the cavernous hall. The Pegasus Knight looked at the weight in her hands to see her Slim lance. She gave it an experimental twirl, and she felt a little more comfortable.
Florina's head jerked up, and she looked around quickly. There had always been an enemy, someone to fight. Every time she had these premonitions, there had been a foe. First Hector, then the assassin 'X' . . . there should still be someone to fight this time. And they always came from-
The Ilian spun around and screamed. There was a broad Sacaen man standing not four metres away from her, and he had appeared almost magically. No sound, no breathing, nothing. He had a large and probably deadly scimitar sheathed at his waist, and all manner of darts, knives, and other assorted nasty things on straps across his chest. He also had a quiver of arrows, no doubt for the impressive bow he held in his hand. Florina felt the usual rush of fear grab her hard. She did not like bows; she was even skittish around Wil and Rebecca, the latter of whom she was getting to know and was actually quite a nice girl. She still used a bow, though.
"Who . . . who are y-you?" she whimpered.
"I am Uhai! The Soaring Hawk of Sacae!" he proclaimed boldly. "I will be responsible for slaying each and every one of you!" And without warning, he unsheathed a foreign and deadly looking knife and threw it expertly at her head.
Florina screamed, dropping low to the ground. The knife whizzed overhead and into the pit, making a slight splashing sound as it landed in the pool of molten rock. Florina got to her feet unsteadily, aiming a shaking lance point at the form of Uhai, with tears pouring down her face.
Come on, Florina! she told herself. Be strong! Don't cry!
But . . . he's got a bow . . . he's going to ki-kill me . . .
Uhai pulled an arrow from his quiver, loaded his bow, aimed and released in one fluid movement. The arrow thudded into Florina's chest, and the next experience she felt was the usual paralytic pain from the lava she had landed in.
The Pegasus Knight screamed as dazzling colours flooded her vision, and her heart suddenly pained her. It wasn't like the screaming, prominent, dream-induced pain of the lava- this was different. Her heart was beating fast, too fast! It hurt . . .
And then she was suspended, with the fierce wind ruffling her clothes. The strange out-of-focus sphere she seemed to be encased in, with the one circle of clear vision straight ahead. Her chest was really starting to ache, and the pain intensified.
Please! Florina screamed in her head. Just show me what I'm meant to see- just stop the pain!
Florina stared fixedly ahead, watching as the premonition unfolded. It involved Fiora, her sister again . . . she was flying along, when her Pegasus reared up and spun around. Fiora pulled up alongside-
Florina. Florina was looking at herself. She was slumped over in the saddle, her eyes closed with an expression of pain on her face.
An arrow shot from the undergrowth, ripping through the Pegasus' beautiful wing. It bucked, and Fiora came unseated, falling down . . .
Florina screamed as her sister landed on the ground below, and the pain in her chest grew beyond endurance. She blacked out.
Fiora chanced a glance backwards at her sister. She blinked hard, and focused on the lavender-haired form of her sister. Florina was asleep in the saddle!
She pulled up hard on the reigns, and her Pegasus neighed in complaint, rearing up in the air before banking left and flying back towards Huey and his sleeping rider. What on earth was Florina doing? Fiora wondered. It was extremely dangerous to fall asleep in the saddle- you could fall out, or your Pegasus could swerve and you still fell out . . .
"Florina!" she shouted, pulling up alongside her sister. She was resting her head on Huey's mane, her Slim lance gripped loosely.
"Wake up!" she shouted. Florina jerked up, her bright blue eyes wide and afraid.
"Sister- move!" Florina screamed, grabbing hold of the other mount's reigns and yanking on them. Shrieking, the Pegasus flew over the top of Florina and Huey, and the arrow Florina had dreamt about shot out of the trees. Fiora saw the shaft moved her leg hurriedly, watching it fly uselessly past her and lose momentum, to drop to the ground below. The lavender-haired girl quickly ducked, watching the hooves of her sister's mount pass over her head.
Fiora looked at her sister oddly. First knowing about Hanasu, and now the arrow?
"Florina? Is there something your not telling me?" she asked seriously. Meekly, Florina shook her head no . . .
And her hand flew to her chest in pain.
"Florina?" her sister asked, concerned. Florina's eyes grew bigger, and the pain increased. It was the pain in her dream, her heart was beating faster and faster-
With a little cry, Florina slipped out of the saddle, and fell for the trees below. Fiora raced her Pegasus down, but Florina fell through a cloud . . .
Fiora punched a hole through the vapour, but when visibility cleared, all she could see was trees.
"Thunder!" Erk bellowed, conjuring a magical lightning bolt to strike the enemy in front of him. The enemy monk was blown backwards, landing hard on the ground. Erk advanced, but his foe was quick to retaliate.
"With the power of Elimine, I strike thee with the power of Light! Shine!" A ball of Light magic sped impossibly fast towards Erk, and tapped softly on his chest. Erk looked at the fading ball of magic, trying feebly to wound him, to do something. Impatiently, he waved a hand through the cloud, which dispersed.
He raised an eyebrow fractionally. The monk scrambled to his feet, the fear on his face plain to read.
Erk strode over confidently, closed his tome and laid the monk a heavy blow to the head; he collapsed, unconscious.
The Etrurian knelt quickly, taking out a bundle of leather straps and tying the monk's hands and feet. A little present for Lord Hector, Lord Eliwood and Lady Lyndis.
"Erk?" sounded a voice from behind the treeline. The mage stood up, picking up his Thunder tome and heading for the source of the voice.
"Through here, Lady Priscilla." he called back, making his way through the thick scrub. He reached through a bush, ready to brush it apart-
When he felt something soft and smooth. Confused, he rubbed his hand against it, before it grabbed him. Frustrated, Erk pulled the rest of the bush apart, but it was ripping apart faster than he was pulling. It was like the bush was being pulled apart from the other side, and it was quickly a pile of twigs and leaves. Erk wiped his remaining hand on his robe before looking at the object.
Priscilla had hold of his hand, and he had hold of hers. Erk let go hurriedly, looking away in embarrassment. Priscilla let her hand drop, before she smiled sweetly.
"We'll just pretend that never happened." she said. Erk nodded, still looking at the ground.
"The Lord's have called for reinforcements. We should go." the mage said quietly, before turning and striding through the remains of the bush. Priscilla watched him go, with sadness shining through her emerald eyes.
"Erk, wait." she said, running to catch up to him. The purple-haired mage turned to look at her, expectant.
"Look, the truth is-" Erk cut her off.
"The truth is, my duty, first and foremost, is to protect you. I promised your father I would see you safely to Etruria . . ." he said neutrally. "I cannot allow myself to jeopardise your safety in any way . . . and if I love you, it will affect my judgement. Priscilla, I'm sorry." he finished, turning away and continuing his march through the misty jungle.
Though neither could see it, both had tears spilling from their eyes.
Uhai sat carefully atop his horse, holding a prized Steel bow tightly in his hands. Granted, a Steel bow wasn't exactly special, but he'd taken down a lot of tough targets with it; he trusted this bow. He would kill many more with this weapon before the Soaring Hawk died. Uhai watched bitterly as his two Nomad bodyguards were cut down with no apparent difficulty, both by the blue-haired Lord with the axe.
Fuming. the Sacaen waited as the axe-wielding Lord was joined by his two friends, the Sacaen woman in green and the red-haired Lordling with the vicious-looking sabre. Uhai swiftly loaded his Steel bow and aimed it at the blue-haired Lord.
"This is your last chance." Uhai shouted, his face hard and determined. "Return the girl to me, and flee the island now, and I will spare you all!"
"You seem pretty cocky, nomad!" Hector shouted back. "Maybe I should take you down a peg- after all, you're not above murdering women!" Angrily, Hector grasped his Wolf Beil and ran out alone, straight for Uhai.
"Hector, no!" Eliwood shouted. Lyn ran after her Ostian friend, trying to call him back.
Uhai watched the furious Ostian racing towards him and his horse. Uhai kept the bow taut, waiting for the right moment to release the shaft. Just a little closer, Uhai prayed. Just a little closer . . .
Hector powered through a tree branch as though it didn't exist, raising his axe high.
"Uhai!" Hector bellowed, and the Soaring Hawk released the arrow, reloading quickly and sending a second missile after it.
Hector felt the first arrow punch through his armour, then the second rammed into his belly. Hammer blows. He was lifted bodily and thrown backwards, before landing hard on his back, with the two arrow shafts sticking straight up in the air.
"Hector!" Eliwood shouted, running down the field. Lyndis wasn't close behind, but she stopped when she saw Hector push on his hands and sit up, feeling the arrows that had hit him.
Hector tapped the shafts in wonderment, and started laughing. Eliwood knelt at his friend's side, confused. "Hector?" he asked, nervous. He was probably delirious, Eliwood decided. His friend was delirious at the time of his death.
"Eliwood, I'm fine! The arrows didn't go through the armour!" And to prove it, Hector twisted the shafts and pulled them out, completely intact. Lyn stood slack-jawed at the sight, and the blue-haired Lord winced.
"Eliwood, can you get this armour off me? They made huge dents, and it's kinda hard to breathe-" The Pheraen nodded, laughing as he undid the clasps to the armour and lifted it off of his friend.
"Incredible," Uhai whispered, watching them. "The arrows didn't even penetrate. What kind of . . ."
He placed his bow in a special sheath on the side of his charger, and slowly drew his Killing Edge. Uhai kicked the flanks of his horse, riding quickly for the unlucky pair of Lord's.
"Prepare to die, for I am Uhai!" he roared. "The Soaring Hawk of Sacae! You will die, each by my sword!" Eliwood looked up to see the rider bearing down on them, his scimitar flashing through the mist . . .
"No! As a woman of Sacae, I will not permit it!" Lyn screamed. Uhai looked at the woman with curiosity- she was dashing for him a lot quicker than he had given her credit for.
Then she drew her sword. It was magnificent, and Uhai marveled at it. The blade was long, and keen as ice, with holy runes inscribed upon the blade-
"The Mani Katti?" Uhai mumbled. "The Mani Katti?" Lyn leapt on top of a boulder and pushed off, flying through the air towards Uhai . . .
And she collided hard with him, taking Uhai neatly from the saddle and sending his scimitar falling to land in a tuft of grass.
There was an unknown swooping sound, and Uhai screamed. Lyn held tight to the powerful man, and they landed hard on the grass. Lyn bounced once and settled, taking the wind from her, while Uhai skidded to a stop.
Breathing hard, the Soaring Hawk rose to his feet. Lyn coughed hard, wetting the dead grass with a small amount of blood. The pain in her side was . . . well, painful. She had cracked one, maybe more of her ribs when she landed.
The Soaring Hawk looked at the shaft sticking from his shoulder, grimacing. Lyn looked at it in wonderment. Where had the javelin . . .?
"Milady Lyndis!" Kent shouted, hefting another javelin. Uhai turned around, and pulled a curved knife from a sheath across his chest. The Soaring Hawk flung it at the cavalier- it struck him high on the shoulder, spinning the cavalier around and dropping him hard.
Lyn shouted with fury and swiped at Uhai with her sacred sword. The Soaring Hawk turned around, and the sharp blade carved across his torso, cutting the straps of weapons and digging deep into his flesh. He dropped to a knee, gasping.
"You . . . are a woman of Sacae . . ." he said, his words grating through his throat. His breath was short and raggedy. "And yet . . . you fight like a man . . ." Uhai's hand crept over to a double-bladed knife of his own design, lying in the dust.
He screamed, and buried the knife into Lyn's thigh. The effect was perfect; Lyn's leg buckled and collapsed. But it was too little, too late- Uhai had forgotten about a certain someone.
"Lyndis!" Eliwood rushed over, his crimson cape flying from the speed. He kicked Uhai in the face, the blow pushing him upright. The Pheraen then buried the Rapier into the Sacaen's chest, ripping out with a growl.
Uhai collapsed, his face pale and waxy.
"You are strong . . ." he choked, and a trickle of blood oozed out of his mouth. "Stronger than I thought . . ." Hector had arrived on the scene, anger shining through his eyes.
"Out of respect . . . a final gift from me . . . from here, head south . . . turn west at the rotten tree . . Uhai gasped. "There lies the path . . . to the Dragon's Gate."
And the Soaring Hawk fell, never to fly again.
Hector looked at the body of the man dispassionately.
"I don't know if you killed Leila, but even if you didn't . . . I'll tear apart the entire Black Fang to find him!" he muttered angrily.
Lyn watched the body of the Sacaen sadly. He had forced the fight, knowing full well what would happen . . . a life had been wasted. A man that might have joined them was dead. Grandfather had been right, she thought. There was no joy in warfare.
She turned away and started walking.
Florina woke suddenly, and her chest ached. Gingerly, she rubbed it, thinking of the speed her heart was racing at during the premonition and in real life.
I don't know what will happen next time, she admitted.
What if it's worse? Could I die from these dreams?
I don't know, Florina. But things with the dreams are escalating . . . perhaps we need to see Hannah . . .
But she scares me . . .
Know anyone else with experience in these matters?
Well . . . no.
Florina leant forward, and stopped. She placed a hand to her cheek; it came away bloody. The Pegasus Knight looked around her, trying to get a bearing on her surroundings. It was dark by now; night had fallen, and the fog was seeping back through the trees. Florina tried to move, but every breath caused pain. The side of her uniform touched her ribs; it was wet with blood.
Florina was lost, wounded, and scared. If help did not come, she would be in deep trouble.
Deeper in the woods, a wolf's howl split the night.
Well, that oughta do it for Chapter 10! Hope you guys all liked it. As I said before, some of the people may be OOC as a program on my computer got deleted and FE will no longer run until I download the program from the Internet. (Yes, I have FE on my computer. Long story.)
Well, read and review, guys and gals. The more reviews I get, the better the chapters are. Inspiration for Ephidel's little scene came from a bunch of spoilers I read about Kaoru Nagisa from Neon Genesis Evangelion. Creepy but awesome.
A quick little reminder to R&R. And I'll see you in Chapter 11!