Foreword
Double digits! Chapter 10! We leave Valm on a happier note, Erron has made allies in Chon'sin and Rosanne and left knowing he could always come back. But now we head for Plegia! And maybe a certain Dark Mage will appear, who knows!

(I do not own Fire Emblem or it's characters. Sorry I keep forgetting to add this…please don't hurt me Nintendo!) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

Heat…
Plegia was a stupid idea, it was so. Damn. HOT. Erron's blood and training made the cold feel like a breeze, but intense heat was not his thing, especially considering his cloak and robes were all black. (Wei'lu why didn't you get this in white!) He was going to collapse, he was incredibly thirsty, like dehydration levels of thirsty. He had been walking for days, straight, the boiling days were tough, but at night, he could travel in the cold with great ease. He was conditioned, but he needed water, fast. He had heard that immense heat could play tricks on your mind, namely oases; solitary water springs surrounded by vegetation in the middle of deserts, they existed, but if your brain is shot with heat, you might hallucinate them. But this one looked so real, Erron took the chance and headed to it, there were tall trees bearing fruit and many plants. He stumbled through to the centre and a deep, clear spring. He knelt down and began to fill up his canteen with water, he washed his face and took a long drink. It seems that he wasn't alone, someone was stood watching him drink like an animal.

"Hello." A sly voice said, Erron turned to see a woman with hair the same black shade as his own and with pale white skin, she had a few books with her and what appeared to be utensils of some kind. "Are you okay?" She didn't seem overly concerned, in fact her tone was that of boredom.

"Yeah," He was a bit surprised to see someone else here, in a desert…and she wasn't wearing much. "Your…ahem…attire, you are a Mage, correct?" He didn't want to draw attention to the fact this woman was rather scantily-clad.

"A Dark Mage to be exact." She held her books to her chest and looked down, whilst still keeping eye contact. "Why are you here? Your accent isn't Plegian."

"I am a Nomad, but I grew up in Ylisstol." He was still filling up his canteen. "I've been across the world, just not Plegia."

"You picked a bad time to come to Plegia…" She seemed annoyed. "Tensions are rising between Plegia and Ylisse," She looked into the distance. "The people fear war. Our King, Gangrel, is a madman."

"Great. The one time I come the Plegia, and war is brewing. Lucky me." He had hoped the worst thing in Plegia was Sand Raiders, not a damned war! "I guess I should leav-" He halted, the woman was stood under a tree, and a slender green snake reeled itself down. "Don't. Move." The Mage looked skeptically, she hadn't seen the snake.

"What are you talking about?" She was oblivious to the serpent, it hissed loudly and coiled, only now did she notice. It latched onto her neck and squirmed vigorously, the Mage was hurt, she stifled her pain. Erron quickly squeezed the snake's head, causing it to let go of the woman's neck, he threw it into the foliage and steadied the Mage, she was breathing coarsely. Erron braced himself hard for what he needed to do, he had to remove the venom from the wound before it would poison the woman's blood. Which meant touching her, more specifically sucking the venom from the bite mark. (Oh gods…this is horrible.) Every fibre of his body wanted to not do it, he hated touch, let alone sucking someone's neck! But he couldn't let this woman die.

Discomfort…
It was horrible, if touching this woman was bad enough, sucking venom from an open wound was hell on earth. He just had to put up with it, he sucked out a load of venom and spat it to the ground. (That's…disgusting…) He did so another few times until the woman's breathing regulated.

"My…village…is there…" She loosely pointed in a direction. There was still poison in her system; ignoring the urge to vomit, Erron picked up the Mage and hurried in the direction she had pointed to. The village wasn't far from the oasis, that made sense; it was a constant supply of water. When he arrived he was approached by a tall, aged woman with the same black hair as the younger Mage, she had a confused look on her face.

"Wait, Tharja? Oh gods!" Erron was tired from running to the village. But he managed to get a word out without vomiting.

"She was bitten by a Snake." He was more urgent than his usual calm demeanour. "It wasn't long ago." The older woman; whom Erron assumed was this 'Tharja's' mother, they looked similar enough, took the younger Mage and headed for a hut. A few minutes had passed and Erron was at the edge of the village, vomiting. The venom or blood wasn't the cause, albeit it left a horrible taste in his mouth, it was the fact that he had been so…close with someone. He, quite literally, had put his mouth on a person, his phobia was going havoc. He felt like his face was burning, when he was finished he was approached by the woman that took Tharja to be healed.

"You, swordsman," She shared the same droll tone as Tharja, she must have been her mother. "Thank you, so much for helping my daughter." There was a hint of sincerity in her voice.

"Think nothing of it, if someone is hurt I will help them." He still felt queasy but he would live. "Anyways, my name is Erron." He bowed his head out of courtesy. "I'm glad I could help."

"How did you know to suck out the poison?" Erron had now noticed the woman wore a large cloak, she was a shaman of some kind.

"I'm a Nomad, surviving is what I am best at." His days in the wilds had made him a true survivalist. "And I read whenever I can. Medical knowledge is important."

"You are a priest?" Not many people studied medicine, except mainly priests and clerics.

"I am merely a traveling swordsman." The hot wind began to settle as night began to fall. "…I should go, I travel best at night."

"Stay for the night, I'm sure Tharja will thank you tomorrow." She smiled at Erron. Erron wanted to go, but he wouldn't turn down such hospitality.

"Of course, thank you kindly." He was staying in a small room on a bedroll, in a sandstone building, sleeping in a desert was surreal. After a while he heard strange noises, it sounded like a fire crackling, also he heard some kind of ominous chanting. Upon leaving the house he saw a strange glow at the outskirts of the village.

"Grant him…peace, for he walks the road of death." It was the raven haired Mage, Tharja; she was placing strange items into a purple flame. She was performing some kind of hex, Erron walked over to the Dark Mage.

"A curse…of peace?" He knew that curses and hexes didn't always have to be for malicious purposes, but he didn't think many Dark Mages actually used them.

"Hm, oh. Hello." Tharja turned to the swordsman. "I was just cursing…you."

"You put a curse on me? Why?" First off, the idea of being cursed didn't sit right with Erron, good curse or not.

"Because you saved my life, thanks for that by the way." Tharja's nonchalance baffled Erron.

"So you cursed me to be safe," Dark Mages were supposed to be evil and sadistic right? Tharja seemed a bit ominous, but she had hexed someone to be happy. "Thank you, Tharja. My name is-" He was cut off.

"Erron Wolfe, right?" Erron became very defensive, he never told her his name before. "When you curse people you have to know…a lot about them, so I took some of your hair whilst you slept. For research purposes." Erron was disturbed by this, greatly.

"You took hair from me, whilst I was asleep?! Firstly, that's creepy. Secondly how could you know my name from a strand of hair. Thirdly…you didn't…touch me, did you?" If she said yes, his phobia would flare up and he would panic.

"No. I merely plucked a hair from your head, nothing more." She could sense that contact unnerved the Nomad.

"Good, well I'm glad you're okay." He composed himself, someone messing with him as he slept made him feel…weird, but she did so to keep him safe, which reassured him…slightly.

"…As I said, you shouldn't be in Plegia…" The Mage spoke sadly. "…The army marches for my village tomorrow…" (Wait…) Erron thought to himself. "…I'm enlisting…"

"…You don't want to fight, do you?" Tharja only nodded. "They're threatening your family aren't they?" Once again the Dark Mage nodded. "…How many approach, I'll stop them…" Tharja was stunned by the resolute swordsman.

"Hundreds, you couldn't fight them all." The Plegian army was large, most of them forced against their will. "You need to leave tonight, if you are seen, they'll kill you."

"They'll die trying." Erron had lived his life fighting, he wasn't afraid. "I don't want this place to be ravaged by war." Tharja stood awkwardly close to Erron.

"Please, if I join, they'll leave us alone." She whispered in his ear, Erron felt uncomfortable with someone so close to him.

"Voluntatem tuam flectit ad me."

…

"Wait why didn't that work? My frog was too stale, damn." Tharja was cursing her curse.

"A curse means nothing if the victim's willpower is stronger than the hexer's." Erron read about menial things all the time, he had come across a tome with knowledge of curses. He didn't think he'd ever need the knowledge, apparently he was wrong. "But I understand that you want to do this alone…who am I to doubt the convictions of others." He pushed Tharja away and began to walk off. "If I see you on the battlefield, know that I will not fight." The Mage was left bewildered, as Erron headed east, for the Plegia-Ylisse border.

(Will they be there?)

Closing Comments
Creepy stalker waifu! Yaaaay! I wasn't sure whether to have Henry or Tharja in this chapter, on one hand; the blood fetishist Dark Mage, or the ominous stalker Dark Mage. Both would make humorous conversations, but I chose Tharja due to Henry's love of killing. Erron holds great regret for his actions, whilst Henry gets off at picking scabs; I feel it would be more confrontational than funny. But anyways thanks for reading! I welcome your reviews and stuff! -Muffin

Extras
The curse that Tharja placed, I wrote it in Latin, hooray for dead languages! Rough translation, it means 'Your will bends to me.' Tharja was gonna curse Erron to force him to leave. For once I am glad my stupid school taught us two years of Latin.