How about another chapter of Promise? Thank you for waiting so patiently while I got around to updating. I'm very grateful for all of the support this story has had so far. It's nice to see people enjoying the things I write. Now then, shall we begin?

Oboro

Letting out a quiet sigh, Charlotte squinted against the low light of the rising sun, its calming orange rays doing little more than worsening the soreness of her head. A night of partying brought with it a day of recovery, and right now she wanted little more than to rest

"Damn it," she grumbled, flopping against her mattress in a heap, looking toward the white fabric ceiling of the tent with blurry vision. "Too much wine. Still, we had fun, didn't we?"

Her red-robed fool, the ever calm and collected Sirus chuckled, in teasing of her all too painful headache. How kind of him, to poke at her like this in a time of need.

"Well milady," he smirked, sitting upon her bed since she'd stolen his. "It seems like you had enough fun for the both of us combined. How can you drink so much?"

The wind whipped up, whistling through the opening of their tent, its calming coolness giving at least a fraction of relief.

Wincing under a sudden, discomforting twinge across the back of her skull, Charlotte groaned.

"My father worked as a tavern guard when I was in my teenage years," the buxom blonde explained, burying her pounding head into the fluffy comfort of a pillow. "I would often join him during the night hours and have a mug or two of ale while he kept the rabble in line."

A nauseous, sickening wave of sorts swam within – the girl's senses swaying left from right as though she were aboard a sailing ship in stormy weather. Unable to find her sea legs when she needed them most, Charlotte curled into a little ball.

"Uuuuugh," she groaned yet again – this time far louder than the last. Holding an arm around her stomach, she closed her eyes of bloodshot blue. "I feel so sick…. I'm never drinking again…."

"Come here, Charlotte. I cannot stand by and watch you ache and shudder any longer."

Arms, compassionate and caring, made contact with bare skin, Sirus' hold snaking around her shoulders and middle. Strong but supportive, he brought her upright, giving the faintest look of concern as she flopped in his arms - a drunk ragdoll.

"Let me get you some water," he offered with a gentle smile. "If you don't sober up before sleep you'll awaken with a hangover from the gods themselves."

Why did having him so close like this feel so enjoyable? Why, even with the sickness she felt, did the Nohrian girl enjoy these small, fleeting moments of friendship and kindness? It was hard to explain, maddening even, but there was no denying that it was enough to turn her pale cheeks a soft red shade of red.

"Yeah… I'd like that…."

Her response was tiny, quiet, almost lost under the ephemeral sound of the blowing morning wind. Giggling, red faced and warm to the touch, she held her roguish paymaster's hand. If anything, she'd tease him in return. After all, Sirus needed keeping on his toes.

"Well," she warbled, slurred and more nauseous by the moment. "What are you doing? Hurry along and get me some water. I'd be veeery grateful."

Always the gentleman, Sirus let her go, standing slowly and making his way toward the opening to the tent. Turning back one last time before leaving, he narrowed his eyes. That gaze he held, so considerate and yet serious at the same time – almost like a father speaking a naughty child.

"Now then…. You be sure to stay sat upright. Don't lay down, and please milady… I'd much prefer it if you weren't sick on my bedsheets."

He even spoke in a fatherly tone – it was so weird to hear him talk like that!

Nodding, much to the detriment of her poor head, Charlotte agreed. She'd do as asked, for now, especially since he was being so nice to her!

"Of course… milord! I'll be sensible. Now, please go and get my water. I tire of feeling so sick."

His expression changing, softening even, Sirus let out a chuckle. How rude! Was he mocking her yet again?

"If you tire of feeling like this… then maybe next time you should consider drinking less wine. I swear to the Water Goddess. I've never known somebody drink fifteen cups in one night…."

Late afternoon – Charlotte looked out the sun, bright and powerful in the cloudless blue sky. Such a sight brought a warmth to her heart. Having long since recovered from the mother of all hangovers, she sat in deep thought.

After fighting with all of her strength, she'd survived the first major battle. Yet at the same time she couldn't shake the images in her mind, and more importantly, the reminder of a familiar somebody for whom she held in high regard.

"Benny," lost in thought as she recalled their battle. The way he fought against her with such strength, such vigor, even though they'd once been firm friends, was quietly terrifying.

"I didn't think he'd fight to kill me. More importantly… if Sirus hadn't stepped in at the last moment I would've-"

No – it was best not to go down that line of thought, better not to dwell on it. Thankfully, Sirus had stepped in at the final moment and talked her down from the adrenaline and the raging emotions. Benny was alive and well, somewhere in Nohr, and no doubt, she'd end up seeing him again. This cruel war would not have it any other way.

Distracted from her memories by the sounds of voices and activity, the song of life as it were, Charlotte shook the negative thoughts from her mind. Hoshidan samurai stood far off in the distance, grouped together in the tall grass. They moved in perfect unison, practicing their swordsmanship.

The way they trained was so interesting in comparison to her homeland. The finer points of their movements were far more timed, based and reliant on footwork as appose to cavalry charges and strong defensive walls. There was no doubt; the way of battle within this foreign kingdom was one of fast footwork and skill.

Not like Benny – he stood tall, strong as an ox, clad in his tall armor, pushing aside and toppling any foe that stood in his path like a soft-spoken but fearso-

"Darn it all." Charlotte shook the thought from her mind for a second time, quietly cursing herself for stepping back to the past.

She'd allowed her mind to wander, far beyind where it should've, too. There was no sense in worrying about that now. Her place was here, alongside the army of Hoshido and more importantly, the warrior of red she'd sworn under promise of coin and friendship to protect.

Speaking of which – a question rang out; one she couldn't suppress as she watched the hustle and bustle of camp all around her.

"Where is Sirus, Exactly? He was due to return to the north side of camp after talking to Rinkah. It's been a couple of hours now and he still hasn't returned."

Sighing, discontent but far from worried, the curvy beauty unfolded her legs got up from her place of rest upon a wide tree stump. Yanking her discarded axe from the soil, she nodded - content to forge ahead and do something productive for the rest of the day.

"I'll go into the clearing beside camp and train for a while. It's best that I keep my skills sharp for the battles ahead. After all… I haven't come this far to lose my life."

She'd heard the rumours, just like everybody else in the Hoshidan camp. Soldiers of Nohr were supposed to be circling around from two sides, coming from as far easterly as Fort Grimscythe and from the northern capital of Windmire.

That made the path ahead one as plain as daylight. Indeed, while the Hoshidan tacticians hurried back and forth from Prince Corrin's command tent, Charlotte, a girl well-versed for obvious reasons in the harsh, mountainous kingdom of Nohr, already knew the handful of options available.

"They only have one or two choices. Either sidestep the approaching army by crossing over the top of Wolveskin Peak… or break through the blockade at the Nestran Boarder and head southward toward Cyrkensia."

Making her way through camp, down the dirt road and past a group of quietly praying shrine maidens, she arrived in a wide meadow with long, lush green grass – one of the few places on the Nohrian boarder with such wonderful natural flora and fauna, quite detached from the barren earth and gnarled, greyed trees closer to the capital.

"Oh well," Charlotte sighed, bringing her weapon to bare. It was time to get in some practice. "I'll take my mind off this in one of the best ways I know… fighting."

With a massive swoop, the brutish beauty brought her axe careening through the air, slicing the wind as though it were a hot knife through butter. First, speed training. Whipping back her locks of curly blonde, letting out a powerful shout, she bounded forward on her sturdy, muscular legs, leaping through the air in a wide, aerial swing.

The massive armament lodged into the ground with a dull thud. Taking a breath to ease the exertion, Charlotte slammed her toes into mud like a wedge for support, pulling the collosal head of the curved, steel axe free.

Pleased, at least with the first part of her training, she smiled, alive with a quiet flicker of confidence. "If that were a direct hit then the person on the receiving end wouldn't be standing afterward… far from it."

Puffing out her ample chest with pride, she continued. One swish after the other, and a third, a forth. It had to be just right, just perfect, a single flaw in the swing with such a mighty weapon and it could miss, sliding past the foe to leave her limited defence wide open. Such was the problem with such an ungodly two-handed offering – all offense and no defensive protection.

Resting for a moment, Charlotte straightened her back, mopping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand as she exhaled.

"A good start, but I'll need far more than that if I'm to-"

A familiar sound, the grass rustling, alongside soft, well-paced footsteps from behind. She froze, silent and cautious as they came closer with every second. For some reason, a reason she couldn't explain, the air suddenly became far more hostile. No – it went beyond that, cold even.

"Who's there?"

The Nohrian girl barked her words, less a question and more of a command, spinning back with eyes of blue focused against the wide-grassy scene behind.

"We meet again, it seems. I warned you to leave by the time the battle at the Boarder Wall ended. You didn't listen…"

That familiar feminine voice, that blackened cloak with the hood pulled far down, obscuring the face in a veil of darkness. It was impossible to forget this dangerous stranger, especially after their meeting in the days prior. Not to mention the way she held that naginata between two sets of tightly clutched fingers.

"This time," the lady enigma spat her words, icy and unforgiving. With a twist of the wrists, she spun out her polearm, the bladed tip of the long wooden hilt shining against the slowly dimming rays of sunlight. "I'll be sure to finish what I started… and I'll even show my face."

Releasing one hand from her weapon for a moment, her long, pale fingertips squeezed around the side of the concealing hood, bringing it down with a single hard tug.

How interesting – her expression looked so twisted, awash with bitterness the likes of which could even strike fear into the heart of a god. A delicate white complexion with a small button nose and two powerful dark greyish-blue eyes, sharpened like knives.

Whipping back her likewise long ponytail of grey-blue hair, letting out a sinister, violent scuff, the female assailant closed in.

"Oboro," she clarified. "My name's Oboro…. I serve as retainer to Lord Takumi, Corrin's brother. I've been waiting for a long time to confront you on your own, Nohrian scum…."

A retainer to Lord Corrin's brother? No wonder she looked so dedicated. Her stance, the way she held herself, down to the very way she clutched her weapon screamed of training and skill.

No – Charlotte wouldn't allow this idiot, whoever she thought she was, to insult her like that. Growling, low and frustrated, she swung her axe in a wide swath, meeting her enemy toe to toe.

Poised and ready, offset only by the low howls of the rapidly increasing wind, she stood fast. "What do you want from me exactly? You think I'll let you get away with talking to me like I'm garbage, too, huh? Well… here's some news for you, I won't…."

"Simple," Oboro replied, her features turning into a darkened scowl. "I don't feel safe having one of your murderous ilk walking around camp while we're at war. You Nohrian folk are all the same… violent and cruel."

Charlotte couldn't help but roll her eyes in disdain at such a comment. "This coming from the woman that's holding a lance toward my face. Hypocrite, much? But, I tell you what…. If you want to fight me so badly… I'm happy to oblige."

"Hmph." Spinning her naginata, Oboro fell into a battle ready-stance, those dark eyes of hers glimmering with contempt as the final rays of sunlight fizzled away. "Killing you is the only way I can keep the Hoshidan royal family safe. You know something?"

Giving a venomous leer, she continued onward, shoulders held upright as she made a slow advance. "I'll almost feel bad for that Nestran lapdog you have enthralled… buuuut I'm sure he'll get over your demise before too long. I saw it in his eyes… when we went into battle against your kinsman. He hates the people of Nohr, too."

Rage – pure and unrestrained. Red stained Charlotte's vision. She couldn't describe it outright, but for some reason those words from this 'Oboro' girl gnarled her up inside. How dare she say something like that? She didn't know anything!

Unable to contain herself any longer, feelings boiling to the surface, the Nohrian girl lunged in a vicious, catty scream. "SHUT YOUR DAMMNED MOUTH! I'll cut you in half!"

Despite her best efforts, Charlotte was forced to blink, repeatedly, dazed and confused, as her axe hit nothing but the air. Eyes widened, she jumped back in an attempt to get her bearings.

Oboro moved like the wind, and before the blonde lass could so much as register, she caught the glint of metal from the corner of her eye. "Too slow, you deplorable harlot. A word of advice…. You need to stop leaving yourself open."

*CRACK!"

The world went white – a pain so supreme cascading across Charlotte's body that her vision collapsed in on itself. Her feet slipped back against the ground. The sensation of mud, damp and thick, spattered across her face, and by the time her vision returned, the grassy earth was the only thing she made out.

"You're lucky I used the blunt end," Oboro gave a harsh, collected laugh as she stood back an inch, eying her downed foe with two painfully sadistic eyes.

"Now, get up," she demanded, giving Charlotte a sharp, discomforting poke with the bladed edge of her naginata. "I'll not sully my blade with your dirty blood. Stand up and we'll finish this hand to hand."

Giving a shallow, pained cough, crimson liquid spattering against the back of her hand, Charlotte snarled, getting to her feet in an agile hop as she tossed her muddied axe to the floor. Oboro wanted to fight like a real warrior, did she? Why such a sudden showing of honor?

Regardless, a nod of consent was all the lady fighter gave. With a crack of the knuckles she stood on form, watching from both sides as the cold whipping of the nightfall air crawled against her skin.

"Very well." It was time to show this girl exactly what the people of Nohr were made of – show her enemy just what she'd decided to mess with. "I'm more than happy to face you, but be warned… your Lord Takumi might be sad once I've broken that pretty little face of yours."

"Doubtful," Oboro gave a stony laugh, tossing aside her spear. "You'll be long dead before that happens."

It was time to watch everything, from Oboro's stance to the way she held herself on those long, slender legs of hers. If anything, her posture was different from that of the Nohrian army, elegant and artistic, her arms held out in a lithe, deadly claw-like position as though she were fearsome mountain cat.

Sneering at the aloofness of such a style, Charlotte brought up her fists, one leg outstretched in front of the other. First came the breathing exercises, just as she'd learned in all those bar fights she'd witnessed during father's time at the tavern. In and out – one breath at a time.

"What's that stance?"

Yet again Oboro berated her – that stuck up, snooty expression of hers shining through. "You look like some common street brawler. Hah… this'll be too easy. PREPARE YOURSELF!"

Again, the Nohrian-hater was gone in a wisp of speed, colliding fast, almost as though she moved with the impossibly powerful wind. The way her hands turned to weapons, zipping and snapping, almost as though they were the fangs of a snake, was more than a little confusing.

Evasion was the ticket here. Moving as best she could, Charlotte breathed hard, despite the burning stiffness within her chest, narrowly avoiding the first set of strikes. Jumping back, her booted feet slipping across the ground, a low bite of aggression erupted from her pinkish lips.

"You easterners with your fancy moves. You're worse than the Nestran with his endless summersaults and sidesteps. No matter… let's see you guard against this!"

Strength met power in a mighty explosion, the curvy light-haired girl meeting with the determined dark-haired one. Charlotte could only watch with quiet glee as Oboro staggered back against the sheer force of her brutal tackling strike. She didn't stop there, either. Reaching out, gripping like a blacksmith's vice, she grabbed one Oboro's shoulders, using her colossal strength to tug one of her arms out of stance.

This was it – the moment everything hinged upon. Using every ounce of might she had, Charlotte pulled hard, a sickening pop bouncing across the open air as Oboro screamed out, those darkened eyes of hers narrowing to the size of dots.

*THUD!*

The Hoshidan woman fell to her knees. "M-my arm, you whore!"

Doing little more than releasing her grip, watching all too happily as Oboro slumped against the ground, holding her loose, disjointed limb, Charlotte stepped back, arms folded around her chest in a smug smile.

"That'll teach you. After all of that you couldn't even last one round against me in a battle of the hands. A word of warning to you, Hoshidan spear mistress. Come back and face me again once you've killed a faceless with your bare hands…."

Giving a pouty, assured wink, Charlotte bellowed with laughter, towering over her foe as she sputtered curse words. "Or perhaps you should use that spear of yours next time. Who knows? If you hadn't decided to get cocky you might've actually killed me."

"Curse you…."

Though it was slow and painful, combined with the sight of a lone, silvery tear leaking from her eye, Oboro crawled upright, exhaling a sharp, agonizing rasp. "I swear, Charlotte…. This isn't over. I'll uncover you for what you really are… and when that time comes, you'll wish you'd never joined this army."

So much hate – so much blind, unrestrained resentment based purely upon the fact of ones birthplace. All Charlotte could do was take another step back and reach for her axe, watching as Oboro turned her back, scooped up her spear as best she could, and fled toward the path leading to camp.

Such an encounter, though short and deadly, left so many questions. Just why did this woman, a retainer for one of the most powerful people of Hoshido, hold such bitter, utterly warped sentiment toward the people of Nohr?

Was it another case similar to that of Sirus? Speaking of that, just what did Oboro mean when she said she'd seen such hatred within Sirus' eyes?

It brought a painful pang of unease – one that Charlotte had to fight with all of her might to bury. What if it was true?

Resting her free hand upon her frantic, beating heart, exhaling the stress as her body burned with red-hot adrenaline in the aftermath of battle, Charlotte took many a moment to think it all through.

Droplets of sweat slid down her forehead, trickling against her ample bust as she pondered.

"Sirus…. I know we've discussed this before but surely you don't hate me, do you? Worse still, are there more Hoshidans beside Oboro that feel the same anger toward me for my birthplace?"

Such black, painful thoughts were enough to surge across the fragile emotional barriers like a vicious tidal wave near the coastline. It was agony to think that the few people here who had shown genuine kindness, were simply putting on a front to mask their anger.

Charlotte couldn't stop the tears, and neither did she want to. Out here, alone and away from prying eyes, she'd let her feelings be known. Her quiet sobs were lost upon the wind, watery lines staining her delicate face as she let her hurt roam free.

"Why?" She cried out – unable to contain herself any longer.

"Why does everybody misunderstand me so? Did people ever stop to think that I hide my true self because of the fear I feel toward rejection?"

It wasn't fair. In all of her time in Nohr she'd hidden her true desires – the wish to help her poor, desperate parents under the guise of being fragile and innocent. Why? Because nobody wanted to marry a brute. No man would take the hand of a beautiful tomboy.

She'd hoped, prayed so desperately that arriving in Hoshido would help change that. Yet here she was - assailed by a vicious Hoshidan retainer for nothing more than the unchangeable branding of her birth.

Sucking in air, breathing in deeply as she dried her tears, Charlotte turned back and gazed longingly toward the moon – so beautiful and white, halfway into the regal night sky by now.

Dropping her axe to the floor, the beautiful blond squeezed her hands together in a small prayer. She hoped that somebody out there, a god or some kind of loving deity, would hear her.

"I hope that someday that the people of Hoshido will come to accept me. I don't want all of the money in this world…. I just want to make those that I care about happy. That's all I ask."

There was no sense in dwelling any longer. Turning back, her sore, puffy eyes of blue fixated upon the road back to camp, Charlotte wiped away the last of her sadness, picked up her massive axe with a sharp pull, and began to make her way to safety.

It had been an eventful evening – one she wouldn't soon forget.

To be continued….

Thank you for reading this chapter through until the end. If you like this story then I also have a couple of side projects you might want to read. One of them is a short prequel called 'Savior'. Mozu plays a major role in that one. The second is called 'Desire'. It's a romantic oneshot between Charlotte and Sirus.

As always, if you'd like to leave some feedback then you're more than welcome. I'm always happy to hear from the readers. Also, if there's anything you'd like to see in future then let me know.

Keep on supporting the Fire Emblem series, and I'll see you in the next part!