"I've made a mistake."
The Commander arched an eyebrow at hearing this confession. The visit from the Queen's sister - his future sister-in-law - had been quite unexpected, but he had welcomed her in without objection. At first, he had assumed that the Lady wanted to speak to him about the plan which had been devised to ensure the Queen's protection from the lurking assassin. However, he was rather perplexed when she informed him that this was not the case. And, when he'd heard just who she wanted to speak about, he'd been deeply concerned – and slightly intrigued.
The mage had been studiously avoiding the Commander - and, seemingly, everybody else - ever since that horrible misunderstanding during the New Year's celebration. He had been worried about the mage ever since but, perhaps, he might finally get some answers.
"A mistake?" he asked. She nodded curtly.
"Ike," she addressed him, her tone almost as dour as the man of whom they spoke, "what do you know of Soren's bloodline?"
The Commander tensed suddenly, for he remembered all too well just how delicate - and painful - a matter this was. "I… I'm not at liberty to say."
"The Mark on his forehead. Do you… know its significance?"
Ike did indeed; for the mage had told him some time ago. And, the Commander could clearly recall just how terrified his Shadow had been that the confession would see him turned out of yet another home. Still, the mage had somehow been willing to take a grave risk by revealing his darkest secret to a man he believed - correctly, the Commander hoped - could be trusted. Thus, he was more than a bit reluctant to share what the mage had revealed.
Yet, at the same time, he found himself wondering just why the Lady was asking.
The Commander remained thoughtfully silent for a moment while he probed her features. Her posture was slumped with weariness, and a good deal of smudge had gathered beneath her eyes; though, this was hardly surprising with the ongoing hunt for the assassin. However, her gaze was not bleary with exhaustion, but sharp and attentive. There was also some underlying emotion that he had trouble identifying.
It almost looked as though... Lucia was worried. But, was she worried about Soren, as the Commander was? Or, was she worried about Soren that way that the mage had feared Ike would be upon learning the mage's bloodline; fearful and repulsed? Unable to tell, the Commander's reply was guarded.
"…I do," he conceded, his tone wary. "Why are you asking?"
"I found out what it means," she replied, all too aware that the Commander's gaze had hardened. "I looked it up in the Royal Archives, just after the Coronation Ball, and—"
"Soren is Soren," the Commander interrupted, a warning glare on his face, "And, he is no less a person than you or—"
"This isn't about that!" she snapped, cutting of his lecture. "I bear him no ill will over his heritage. But I…" she paused, as though needing to gather her courage, and then pressed on, "I told—"
The Commander seized her shoulders, his expression tight with alarm. "You what?!"
"I didn't understand the gravity of the situation at the time! Not until it was too late. I'd never seen that sort of prejudice! Sure, I'm well aware of the beorc-laguz tensions in much of Tellius, but this is Crimea! We have spent over three decades working to bridge the divide between the beorc and the laguz; and we have achieved greater successes than anyone ever believed was possible! I didn't think… not here, but last night, it came up between Soren and I…"
Her words degenerated into fretful stammering, and then faded to an anguished sigh as her head drooped into her upturned palms. He drew back, more than a bit startled by this outpouring of emotion from the normally unflappable swordsmaster. In watching Lucia tumble over her words, which had grown ever more discordant with fear and shame, the Commander discovered a bizarre echo of memory.
It was as though he was hearing Soren's confession all over again.
"I'd never seen him look so frightened…" Lucia finished, once her voice had returned.
"Soren's…," Ike began, his own voice proving elusive for a moment. "Soren has lived a very hard life. He's received a lot of hate, practically since he was born. And, since a lot of it was because people realized...what his Mark meant, he kept it a secret for a long time. I'm sure he was more than shocked to find out that you knew. It took a lot of courage for him just to tell me, his best - maybe his only - friend. And, I promised not to tell anyone. Soren was very adamant about that. The possibility that someone besides myself knows… probably has him scared to death."
"Ike, I told Kieran."
The Commander frowned deeply. "Is Soren aware of that?"
"Kieran called him half-blood once, I don't think Soren thought anything of it at the time, but now… Ike, I'm sorry," she said, a clear note of pleading in her tone.
"It's not me you should apologize to."
"I know, but I don't know how I can—"
"I'm afraid I don't know, either. Soren's not someone who's easy to approach, much less reconcile with, I know. It took me years to gain his trust. But, it is obvious that you care about him. That, ultimately, got him to open up to me, and it might work for you as well. Just trust that it'll work out. Give him some space for a while and, when he does come to you, that'll be a big step in the right direction. That's the best advice I have for you, though I wish I could do better."
She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a knock at the door. "Lord Ike! Your presence is requested in the council chamber!"
"The briefing about our plan to protect Queen Elincia," she breathed irritably, "how could I forget about a meeting that I arranged?" She hurried from the room to collect her supplies, almost bolting away from Ike, while the Commander headed to the council chamber with many new thoughts racing through his head.
-
"Lord Soren! Your presence is requested in the council chamber!"
He'd known that his solitude would not last forever, but it still seemed to have ended all too soon.
The mage glanced up from his huddle before the roaring hearth, though he remembered neither loading the fireplace with wood nor lighting the blaze. Most likely, he had hoped that the simple labor, the smell of the smoke and the hypnotic dance of the flames would serve to distract him from this latest torment in his long, sad life.
If that was plan, then it had failed miserably. He could no more banish the fear now roiling in his skull than he could the laguz portion of his blood.
When the fire failed to distract him, he'd begun to pace back and forth until it was a small wonder that he had not worn a hole into the floor. His thoughts were tumultuous, as evidenced by his outward manner. His hands wrung against one another until his skin felt raw and his robes were rumpled. His hair was disheveled; his crimson eyes were hot with tears. And, above all, his heart pounded with fear and despair.
Confessing his accursed bloodline to Ike had been, without a shadow of a doubt, the hardest thing Soren had ever done. Yet, despite the fear he remembered climbing his spine back then, he had never once thought that his trust in the Commander would prove to be misplaced... until now. Aside from the Commander's late father, Ike had been the only person the mage believed could be trusted with this darkest of secrets. And, that was the whole reason he'd divulged his secret to that one most trustworthy of persons in the first place.
But, was Ike so trustworthy after all?
The secret had not been kept, and others now knew; thus, he couldn't help but suspect…
Had Soren misread Ike? Was the Commander's honesty and forthrightness just an illusion, as it was with seemingly everybody else? Or, had it been carelessness rather than betrayal that had caused this dark secret to escape into the light?
The latter seemed likely, for the Commander had a certain reputation for letting his actions outpace his thinking.
And, whatever the cause, how long had those others known? He recalled that earlier instance of ridicule from the red haired knight. At the time, he'd thought the knight was just sputtering insults, but the barb and his bloodline were too closely tied to be mere coincidence.
But, he didn't have time to ponder these thoughts further. He was late for the meeting.
Somewhat distractedly, he made his way to the council chamber adjoining the throne room. Unlike the senate chamber, the council chamber was reserved for use by the Queen and her chosen circle for private discussions of greatest secrecy and urgency. Naturally, an assassin seeking the Queen's life qualified. As he reached the door and the flanking sentries admitted him, he observed that this room, like the rest of the castle, had undergone some alterations for security. The window panes had been replaced with stronger, tempered glass while the windows were firmly shut and latched. And, everyone in the room was armed.
As he finished his perusal of the room, his stomach dropped. Due to his tardiness, there was only one vacant seat remaining. The Queen was at the head of the table, her fiancé to her right. Alongside him was the Commander of the Royal Knights. The vacant seat, much to Soren's consternation, was flanked by the azure haired swordsmaster and the red clad knight. He silently cursed his misfortune as he crossed the threshold. But, his discomfiture was quickly noticed.
"Geoffrey, Lucia, could you slide down?"
The Lady looked woefully down at her maps and reports, which she'd already spread over the table before her and arranged with painstaking care. "Ike…" she began to protest.
"Soren always sits at my right side. Okay, Lucia?"
She looked as though she was about to protest but, curiously, her expression changed when she met the man's gaze. After a moment, it seemed as though some unspoken understanding passed between the two. She nodded and moved closer to the red knight, though neither seemed thrilled by the new seating arrangements. Her brother, seeming to give both a stern glance, helped to rearrange the parchments as the mage settled between the two Commanders.
Lucia was still getting her reports in order when she, almost tentatively, met the mage's gaze. "Soren, would you begin?"
"Of course," he nodded and stood to address the small gathering. "As I'm sure all of you are well aware, there have recently been two attempts made on Queen Elincia's life. Because both were made using the same implement, namely the Whispering Death poison, we are certain that both attempts were made by the same culprit. We also strongly suspect that this assassin will make a third attempt sooner or later."
"Do you have any idea whether this assassin is operating independently, or if he is acting at another's behest?" Geoffrey asked, interlacing his fingers meditatively.
"Most likely, the latter," Soren replied. "Whispering Death is very difficult to find, and incredibly expensive to produce. If this assassin is using it, he'd need a very wealthy sponsor to have procured enough for the last two attempts."
"Do you have any suspects?" Ike asked, looking as though he was quite eager to voice his displeasure with those who sought his fiancée's life... with his blade.
"We have our suspicions, but nothing concrete. However, Lucia and I have been collaborating on a plan to stop the assassin, and to ensnare the one who hired him. We suspect that, having failed twice, the assassin's client is growing impatient; especially considering the expense he's surely put himself to thus far. The assassin is, I suspect, growing desperate to fulfill his mission before he finds himself targeted by his own client. After some thought, we have decided upon a plan that will play on that desperation while carrying minimal risk to the Queen. We will set up a trap to lure the assassin into take another shot at killing Elincia. This trap, however, will be focused on taking the assassin alive."
"WHAT?!" both Ike and Kieran bellowed, the two men vaulting to their feet in perfectly mirrored incredulity before the Queen and her brother urged both back into their seats.
"If we kill the assassin, his client can simply hire another," the mage pointed out. "Once the assassin is in custody, however, we will have the town criers announce that he has already chosen to name his client in exchange for leniency."
"So, the client will want to silence the assassin," Geoffrey observed. "The assassin will have no choice but to give us the name in order to save himself. A wise strategy."
"I agree," Ike seconded. "Good work, Soren."
The Lady gave Soren a sidelong smile, though the mage gave no response, while the red clad knight merely scowled.
"An imperative part of our plan, however, is that we have some means to lure in the assassin," he went on. "Lucia will be standing in for the queen as a decoy—"
Obvious distress crossed Elincia's features, and she looked quite eager to protest, but Lucia interjected.
"Please, Your Highness," the Lady beseeched her sister. "Whoever is acting as your decoy must be someone who knows the plan inside and out, and who can convincingly impersonate you. I am the logical choice."
The Queen looked as though she wanted to object nonetheless - perhaps even to forgo the decoy and take the risk herself - but the firmness of her sister's gaze caused the young queen to fall silent and nod sadly.
"I too had some... reservations... about this aspect of the plan," Soren admitted, his choice of words prompting a raised eyebrow from his friend, "but I must concede the point. Lady Lucia is the best choice to act as the Queen's double and, should the need arise, she has the best chance of subduing the assassin by herself."
"So, she snubs you once, and you decide to kill her?"
The mage paused at the red knight's interruption, a frown drawing down the corners of his mouth. "I am aware of the risk—"
"You just want to be rid of her, half-breed!" The knight rose to his feet and shouldered past the protesting Lucia, casting an intimidating shadow which seemed to devour the small mage.
Soren's breath caught in his throat, and involuntarily, his eyes jumped to the Commander. Ike's jaw was clenched tight and he was half way out of his chair before Geoffrey rose and spoke over the burgeoning tumult.
"Kieran, mind yourself," came the warning from the blue armored knight. Geoffrey's Second-in-Command turned to meet the piercing aqua gaze and, after a moment, reluctantly lowered himself back into his seat. But, he did not back down without one last, murmured slur. "Sub-human."
The Commander suddenly vaulted over the table with a shout of rage. In a single, fluid motion, he closed the gap and staggered Kieran with a punch to the jaw.
"Take that back! Take that back, you piece of-!"
The Commander's expletive was cut off when the red clad knight's fist rammed into his nose. Ike, blood leaking all over his face, regained his stance and managed to land one or two solid blows before the shock of the sudden violence wore off and the others reacted.
"Get off of me, low-born cur!" Kieran barked.
The Commander's rage seemed to intensify with that outburst, and his answering blow turned Kieran's eye purple. The Queen and her brother were on their feet, trying vainly to stop the brawl.
"Ike, stop! Stop it, please!"
"Stand down, Kieran! That is an order!"
The Queen began tugging on the cape of her fiancé, but he had the upper hand over both the queen and his opponent; and he was not about to stop without ensuring that the red knight was thoroughly punished for insulting the Commander's Shadow. The knight was yelling still but, against the monstrously strong Ike, seemed all bluster and no bite. Neither combatant had brought their weapons into play, but the others in the room feared that would change at any moment.
"Get off! What's the point in defending him? He's just a—" Whatever the knight was about to say was cut off as the Commander hit him squarely on the jaw once more, sending him reeling. The knight roared in pain and anger, and hurriedly flew back to the fight. The table was overturned, the reports and other parchments sent flying. The blue armored knight tried to interpose himself between the two combatants to stop their brawl, but was shoved aside almost immediately. The Queen wasn't having much success with her pleas either, as her words were drowned out by the report of both men's fists.
Suddenly, just as the Commander's blade was half way out of its sheath, a green light flared to life in the midst of their combat. Then, in an instant, a gale erupted from the green light which blew apart the quartet. They were briefly pinned against the stone walls for a stretching second before the gale died. They staggered back to their feet on opposite sides of the room, staring at the small mage who now gripped a tome.
"Stop it. Stop it." His features were livid as he spoke. "Just…" he trailed off.
Ike, briefly forgetting the combat, raced to Elincia's side to ensure that the spell hadn't harmed her. Once he saw that she was uninjured, his gaze turned back to Kieran and smoked with azure rage. Kieran's bruised eye, by this point, had swollen until he could no longer open it, but his remaining eye blazed with contempt.
"You're a pathetic, cowardly turncoat," he intoned, though whether he was speaking to Ike, Soren, Lucia or each and all could not be determined.
An almost feral growl rose from the throat of the Commander, but the Queen's hand seized his arm with astonishing strength, and he relented. Desperate to dispel the tensions before they became violent once more, the Lady tactician, who'd been silent thus far, intervened.
"Maybe it would be best if we reconvened later," she suggested. She watched as her brother dragged his fiery subordinate off, the latter still shooting scathing, one-eyed glares at the mage. Her sister stood by her fiancé, tightlipped and tense as she examined the cuts and bruises which bespangled his face. The mage still lingered alongside her, his normally cold features pinched with distress and more than a hint of fear.
"Soren?" The Queen had released the Commander, and he approached his friend.
"Go away."
He was startled by the mage's cold response. "Soren, what's the matter? What have I—" his words trailed off as the mage murmured softly.
"…betrayed me."
"Wh…what? Soren, I would never – what are you talking about?" The mage shot him an accusing glare, and Ike was struck by the obvious contempt - almost loathing - in his gaze. After a moment's astonishment, he recalled his conversation with Lucia, and he finally understood. "Soren," the Commander began in a low, serious tone, "I promise you, I never told a soul. I would never betray your confidence in me. I thought you knew that."
The tactician's glare wavered, and he swiveled to look at the Lady. "Then… how…?"
"I looked it up in the Royal Archives," she responded after a pause. She could see Soren's gaze narrowing, and she averted her eyes. "I told Kieran."
She did not look up to see his reaction, nor did she when she heard him retreat to his friend's side. Her eyes strayed to the devastation of the council chamber. The chairs had been knocked over, the table overturned and the parchments were dancing through the air as they languidly descended to the cold stone floor. The sight harkened her back to the coronation ball, where she and Soren had first met and where he had captivated her. They had conversed as she had tried vainly to plum the mysteries of the dark robed mage, they had danced and had tasted one another's lips. The first time being an accident, the second as an impulse, but the third being one of affection.
How had everything gone so wrong?
Her only answer was the hallow cadence of Ike and Soren's boots as they left the room.
"Why don't you come with Elincia and I, Soren? You can explain the details of the plan to—Aren't you coming, Elincia?"
Lucia, still unable to meet Soren or Ike's gazes, looked up as the Commander addressed her sister. She was quite surprised to see her still in the room, as she had expected Elincia to already be at the side of her future husband. The Queen's eyes lingered on her sister for a long moment, as though she struggled to resolve some internal debate. The Queen's lambent gaze shone with worry and confusion but, after a moment, she turned toward the door and her beckoning fiancé.
"Yes, Ike, I'm coming."
Elincia quickly joined Ike and Soren. Lucia wanted, desperately, to call out to them; to explain herself; to say something. But, the words died in her throat as the doors boomed shut behind the departing trio.
And, she was alone.