"Jaffar is gone. Never got on the ship, looks like." Matthew was sitting in a cot as Mark came below deck. The ship swayed as it returned to Badon port, and most of Eliwood's army was celebrating in the mess hall. Mark had escaped the excitement with hopes of catching some actual sleep before they all got on with their lives. "Can't find him anywhere." Matthew was holding a dagger in his hand, turning it in his hands and letting the lamp light reflect off of it.
"He said he was going to disappear. Going off the map, something about not having a place in the world at large."
"You're damn right he doesn't." Matthew still hadn't looked at his friend, still turning the dagger around in his palm as he spoke. "He killed Leila. He took away one of the only things I loved from me." He rose from the cot and turned to Mark, eyes fixed on the dagger still in hand. "I've thought of almost nothing since he joined than how I was going to finally kill him. And now he's gone. I'd have to spend months, maybe even years to find him now." His hand gripped the handle of the weapon tight, fist now shaking. But in an instant, the shaking ceased. With a sigh, the blade dropped to the ground with a clatter. The spies open hand rested calmly at his side as he finally locked eyes with Mark, steel grey meeting emerald green. "But I know it's not his fault. It wasn't a kill from pleasure, or anger, or passion, money or revenge. He killed because he was told to, no other reason than that. He was a tool used by another. And the man who ordered it is dead. Not by my hands as I would have it, but the man is dead." Matthew picked up his weapon and secured it in his sheath before walking past Mark. "My life both continues and begins anew when we step off this boat. I…hope you're still in that life, my friend."
"Matthew…" Mark's eyes became glossed with tears as his longtime friend went to join the party that was happening on the floor above. He came to rest in one of the makeshift beds set up in the room and sleep quickly found him.
When he awoke, several more bodies were around him in cots. The sun still was not coming through any of the portholes, and the lamps in the room were doused. Dry mouthed, the tactician rose from his rest and made his way through the dark to the stairway and up towards the mess hall. As he came into the dining area, the lamps were still lit, and at a table in the middle of the room was a pair of men talking with long stemmed glasses on the table in front of them. Pent and Canas were deep in their conversation when Mark walked in. Pent glanced away momentarily and caught sight of the tactician coming in. "Ah! The conquering hero!" Hs voice had an unusual joy to it as he stood from his chair and walked over to the tactician. "Glad to see you're finally awake." He came over and had a shoulder in each hand. "Come drink with Canas and I. We were just reminiscing about our adventures, now that everyone has survived."
"I'd love to, if you could find the wine to fill my glass." Mark smiled back at him, as he walked with an arm around the mage general back to the table. A half a bottle of wine sat on the table, and a third glass was quickly procured for the new conversation member.
"I was just talking with the mage general," Canas said as he lowered the glass from his lips "about the now passed Archsage's research, and the vast library the man had in his study. Which is now his." The druid moved his glass around as he spoke, clearly the bottle emptying culprit of the two. Mark drank from the glass and let the dry wine wake him up. "I asked him if I could move my research there."
"It is like I said, under the condition that none of the experiments involve open flames. Other than that you're welcome, Canas." Pent finished his drink and reached for the bottle and began to fill his glass again. "You're invited as well, Mark, if you wish." Pent threw out as he put the cork back into the bottle. Mark was halfway to seeing the bottom of his glass when he chocked slightly from the offer.
"R-really Lord Pent?" Mark said, clearing his throat and wiping his mouth. "Isn't the Archsage's collection mostly magical tomes?"
"Well yes." Pent laughed a bit at the tactician's reaction. "But there's a bit of history and a bit of old strategy. Beside, Mark, I see it in you. I see the spark." Mark look quizzically at Pent, and saw Canas behind him nodding in agreement with some enthusiasm before returning to his glass. "The spark of magic potential is in you Mark. You just need to work on it, and I can help. Erk's training is nearly complete and I could work with you."
"Your words are kind, General." Mark sighed as he filled his glass again. "But I must decline. My plans for after we depart this ship are set. I'm going to be going with the Caelin Company back to that march and reside there for a while." He saw the slightly disappointed look come across Pent's face, but he nodded and said he understood.
For another few hours the trio sat, drank and laughed. They talked about the Black Fang, the Seal of Shrines and the morphs they had encountered throughout the times after. Sometime during the conversation, Mark pulled the ring he had found at the Dragon's Gate from his pocket and began to turn it around in his hand, keeping the conversation going as he did. "Mark," Canas said, having switched to drinking water an hour ago, "What's that in your hand?" The tactician showed the dark magic practitioner the silver piece of jewelry, and it was quickly taken out of his hand by Pent.
"Well, this is an interesting piece." The silver haired man said, looking at the ring, examining the amethysts that were inlaid. "This is…well, it certainly looks like an old piece. I'd like to take a look at it further, crossing it with some of Athos' texts." Mark nodded and Pent put the gem in a pocket inside his robes. Daylight began to sneak down the stairs, dawn was upon them. The tactician bid the two a farewell, before coming up on deck to see the sunrise.
The sun reflected off the water beautifully as he ascended the stairs. He walked across deck and leaned against the rails of the ship and gazed out to the water. For a moment, he closed his eyes and thought of Lyn. There she lay asleep in his mind, a peaceful look on her face. Mark caught himself lingering on her image for more than a few seconds, before shaking it from his head. She was so beautiful to him. He wondered, for a long time, if she felt the same. The other day she had offered a place for him in Caelin and he had accepted without thought. Would that be the end of his travels? Would that be where he finally hung his robes until the day he died. Would she be the force that rooted him in place?
"I think, Khan Flavia, you'll find the terms of this alliance acceptable." Mark took a dreg from his pipe, before blowing the smoke off the balcony that sat with an excellent view above the packed arena. Six months of being Yllisse's prime minister had led him to his first diplomatic mission. The trip to Regna Ferox was hardly difficult, and the mission was a formality at best. The two nation's cooperation in the war against Plegia sealed alliance in battle bond and friendship. The scroll Mark now produced from the folds of his robes was merely an open declaration. One of the East Khan's guards approached and took the scroll from the dirty blond, and handed the treaty to his master.
Mark filled his glass again with wine, before offering the carafe to Lon'qu, who only shook his head as a response. Due to their experience and deeds in the Plegian campaign, many of the Shepards had been given good positions in both the Yllissian military and government. Mark had handpicked Lon'qu and Gregor to be his personal guard. While no one had made attempts on Mark yet, he felt it was better to be safe and have a pair of blades watching his back. But here he felt safe within Feroxian walls, and treated the trip more as a vacation. As Flavia read through the document in her hands, Mark scratched at the beard that was starting to come in on his face, and took a drink of wine. Gregor didn't need to be offered, as he sat across the balcony at the feasting table. Yllisse's peace had been solidifying gradually, thanks in part to Mark's actions as Minister. Most of the army had been converted for the time being to a service corp., rebuilding razed villages and repairing public works that had been damaged during the war. What's more, the strategist ordered surveyors out to each of the kingdom's duchys and marches to learn how much the local lords owned and, consequentially, how much each should be taxed. While it had made him somewhat unpopular among few of the lords, the information helped the healing process.
Flavia picked up a quill and quickly scratched her name onto the paper, before rolling it up and tossing it towards the minister. Mark had to lurch forward to catch the treaty, causing the Khan to laugh. "Oh, come on Mark. There's no need to be so stuffy. Just because you hold the office doesn't mean you have to fill the office every day." She stretched her arms to the air before walking over to the table covered with food. She returned with chicken and fruit on her plate, setting it down next to seat. "The alliance between us is finalized. Now can we enjoy the show?"
Below them, the empty arena began to buzz louder as the fights began again. Mark stood finally, knocking the ash from his pipe before moving towards the food table himself. "You look tired, Mark." The Khan's voice followed him to the table as he stood over the spread.
"Thank you for your input, Khan Flavia. I really hadn't noticed every morning when I looked in the mirror." He heard a snort behind him as he returned with a full plate. He began to pick around his chicken as Flavia sat next to him at the table overlooking the bloodshed below. "Next you'll probably tell me that smoking is bad for me?"
"Well it is," the Khan smiled, clapping Mark on the shoulder, "but that's not the point I'm trying to make. I just don't want you wearing yourself thin. Otherwise you're gonna be paper by the time you're ready to hang up your robe and retire from the whole politic game." Settling down? Mark didn't have time to think about that. The kingdom needed his efforts to get back to where it was before the war. That much he had promised to Chrom.
The arena below them cheered as victors stood over their opponents, being showered by praise and love. "I'll be sure to take your advice into consideration, Khan." A groan came from behind him as he felt two hands shove him forward, causing him to brace before he could fall out of his seat.
"Damnit Mark, its Flavia! Just Flavia. How many times do I…never mind." She groaned as she sat next to Mark. "Let's just enjoy the show."
The next day, the minister's caravan started south for Ylisstol. Mark remained in his wagon, reading a novel that Sumia had lent him about people who lived in the forest and mountains, when he felt Gaius finally take his seat across from him. "Glad to see you could finally make it." He placed his mark at the page where he stopped and shut it, paying full attention to the sugar fiend in front of him.
"You're the one that wants me trailing behind smokey." Gaius grunted as he pulled out a carrier case, opening it to reveal several rolled papers. "Making my stay in inns, not letting me near the arena. But I'm not gonna complain, no sir. Not at all." The Prime Minister took one of the documents out of the case and opened it. Inside was part of the information he had asked Gaius for; Ferox's treasury reports, tax figures, export and import numbers, all and more were contained in the data Gaius had collected while they were in the capital city. "Still not sure why you couldn't just ask Flavia for this stuff." Gaius added, checking his nails for dirt and giving sideways glances towards Mark. The strategist sighed and nodded, pulling a bag of pastries from the folds of his robes. The red head didn't wait to be offered before snatching the bag, opening it eagerly.
"Because then she would know we knew or were interested. Knowledge is powerful, especially when others don't know you have it." He smiled as the paper was placed back into the case, and the case placed on the floor. "I feel bad for sending you around the past half a year." The thief faintly recognized the apology and nodded in Mark's general direction as he continued to work through his payment. "After the kingdom is completely stable, I can instill the spy ring we need. Then you won't need to do as much, Gaius." Bag empty, Gaius began cleaning his fingers, mulling over Mark's words.
"So that means you'll need someone to train them though." The strategist nodded and Gaius leaned forward. "Well, I guess that means I'll be able to stay in one place at least. Lemme know when that day comes. Until then," the red head got out of the caravan and started off the beaten road, "there's a few favorite sweetshops I need to hit before I get back to Yllisstol!" After a few moments he was a dot on the forest line, then gone.
Mark hated acting this way towards Khan Flavia, going behind her back to get information strait from the primary source, but he wanted to be sure the numbers were correct. The Prime Minister leaned back and watched the countryside roll by, as they reached the river bridge that he and the Shepards had first crossed in their original Ferox visit. It felt so long ago, but the Mark of today was a much wiser and deeper man than he was that day. He owed it to Emmeryn, Chrom, and all the friends he had made here.
Hey everyone! So it's been a looooooong time since I updated, mainly due to school getting in the way. This may be the last update in a while OR I may update next week. We'll find out when we get there. But until then, review, favorite, and enjoy.