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Chapter Four: The Distant Plains (Part 1)
A rare summer drizzle recently blanketed the vast plains with a modest wetness, giving it a much greener and earthier glow. The occasional strong breeze swayed the tips of the still wet grass as it sparkled under the late afternoon sun. As the tall grass bent and swayed with the wind, Mark and Lissa continued their voyage to a place that brought fond memories to the continent's former tactician. Though the sense of familiarity and excitement gave him a jittery grip on his horse's reins, Mark was slightly taken aback as he was more familiar with the drier and dustier plains that he and Lyndis' Legion once travelled.
"Gods, it's been far too long. This place looks more…green!" He mused. Mark shot a glance at Lissa. "What do you think of Sacae so far, dear?"
Instead of receiving her response, he was met with her horse's wagging tail; Lissa unknowingly rode ahead. Inching closer to check on her, his ears quickly focused on the Sacaean phrases that slowly escaped her lips.
"Soh…saen…yu…bahyn…ve…" She slowly enunciated. Closing her eyes and the little pocket book he gave her, she began saying the phrase again. With each reiteration, the flow of the phrase became smoother, despite her heavy commontongue accent. "Sohn saen…yu…bahyn ve. Sohn saen yu bahyn ve?"
"Saen ta saen bahyn uu." He suddenly replied, making her utter a high pitched squeak.
"Oh my Gods! Mark!" Startled, Lissa fumbled the little pocketbook and dropped it on her lap. She groaned at him as she tried to press down on her rapidly beating chest with her palm. "Ugh! Don't do that!"
"Sounds like your Sacaean is turning out nicely." He said, jokingly returning her gesture.
"Why thank you, Sir Meanieface." She said. Yet after a deep breath, a rosy tint appeared on her cheeks. Her voice was timid. "But…uh, did I say it right?"
"Definitely! Although you have to emphasize with your throat more…" To his wife's chagrin, he demonstrated the need by making a hacking noise that reminded her of Walhart having a terrible cold. With a look that can only be described by her husband as "threatening", he immediately stopped and let off a chuckle. "Okay, okay. The good thing is that you got your point across."
Lissa closed her eyes and furrowed her brow. An awkward pause grew between them.
"Uhh…" She laughed. "I can't remember that phrase—what did you say?"
"I think it means 'I'm fine, thanks'." He gave her an encouraging smile. "Don't quote me on that, though."
"Oh, 'Saen ta saen bahyn uu'. I wonder if I can find other responses to that…" She quickly opened her pocketbook and began shuffling through its pages. As quickly as their conversation passed, Lissa began reading away, once again practicing the language and memorizing her responses.
"Page fourteen, I think." He said absentmindedly.
As she began reiterating the many phrases in her book, his heart warmed at the sight of her hard at work practicing her Sacaean tongue—despite not finding a language like it anywhere in Ylisse. She still took the time and effort to study it days before they set off to the Outrealm Gate. Not only that, Lissa seemed like she actually wanted to experience Elibe rather than all the other lands. As their horses strayed away from the plains and onto a dirt road, Mark reminded himself that she was incredibly well-prepared with pocketbooks, notebooks, and Snapshot tomes in her satchel. It seemed that she was more eager to travel there than he was!
He was certainly delighted that they could spend time together and that she was exhibiting what seemed to be honest excitement. Yet there was something that made him feel a little bit indebted, even feel guilty. Could Lissa be doing this for his sake at the expense of her own? As much as he wanted to find that answer, he couldn't dwell on the matter for long, seeing that they finally arrived at their first destination.
As Bernese influence overpowered that of Etruria's in the eastern plains, the architecture of its imposing and ornate wall did make it appear something akin to a Bernese fortress rather than a Sacaean trading hub. Even with this new addition, it never really changed the livelihoods of those that dwell within the city itself. More often than not, it was still inhabited by aloof merchant families and its impressive bazaar was still manned by various tribesmen and women. But as Mark saw Bulgar's stone walls come into clearer view, seeing the city after all those years made it known to him that Sacae was once again foreign land.
"Oh, Mark!" She squealed excitedly as they both saw the first Elibeans of their journey: nomad children and their mothers playing from afar. She pointed at the woman gathering water, with her infant bundled up in an ornate sling. Brown and blue zigzag patterns on brown fabric lined the cap that the child wore. "I wonder if we can find something like that for Owain—that little hat he's wearing is sooo cute!"
"I promise you that we won't find a shortage of those in Bulgar." He said. "We'll start browsing the bazaar once we're all set up in the inn."
"I hope you'll be a better shopping buddy than Lucina." She giggled, noting the former's lack of fashion sense. Mark shrugged.
"I hold no promises." He teased and Lissa gave him a disapproving pout. "What? You and Maribelle told me I lacked a sense of fashion, too!"
As the couple crossed the river that surrounded Bulgar's western perimeter, Lissa pointed out the circular tents that dotted the riverside and the outskirts of the city. What also drew her attention were the short and bulky looking horses that grazed on the damp grasses.
"Oh, over there! Look at the horses and those cool-looking tents!" She pointed out.
"Those are called gers, dear." Mark began to drone on, smiling. Lissa simply rolled her eyes at her husband-turned-tour guide. "Tents are usually tetrahedral or quadrilateral in shape while gers are more circular and dome-like."
"Whatever!" She said as they both pulled to the side of the main road and stopped to look at the animals. "Oh man! Look at that!"
To their far right, a young man was practicing maneuvers with his mount; a skill that was a must to all Sacaean huntsmen. He fired arrow after arrow as his horse ran circles around a straw target. And for her, it was indeed a familiar yet unique sight, reminding her of an old archery show she saw in her youth. Mark began to explain that unlike the taller and skinnier build that is characteristic to Ylissean and Valmese horses that she was familiar with, the Sacaean horses looked to be stockier and built to cope with the harsh and variable climates that the nomads experienced year round. Despite this, the horses themselves were incredibly agile and quick. Lissa was noticeably impressed.
Like a small child visiting a farm, Lissa immediately dismounted from her steed and began approaching one horse that was grazing by the roadside. Mark himself dismounted and watched her nearby, just to let his wife experience a piece of Sacae on her own. Lissa clicked her lips and beckoned for the horse to come.
"C'mere. C'mere, girl." And she was pleasantly surprised at how fast the horse approached her—a little too fast considering it galloped its way to her, almost forcing her to the ground. It stood in front of the princess with curious eyes and sniffed her hair. With a puff of air coming from its snout, Lissa giggled as the dark gray horse let her run her fingers through its disheveled mane. "Mark, come here! Look at her! She's so sweet!"
A big smile and her constant waving prompted him to tie their steeds down to a nearby tree and join in. Mark cautiously walked towards the horse. He was hesitant to even approach the animal, but instead, it walked towards him.
"Wow. You're right. She's pretty tame towards strangers."" He said, astonished. As he scratched the snout, she once again sniffed his hair. Unlike his wife, it gave him an affectionate lick to his cheek. "Eeeeeegh, easy girl. Ugh. Horse slobber."
"Ooh!" Lissa giggled and stood closer to him, "I think she likes you. Heck, it's like she knows you!"
"Really?" Mark did well to hide the skepticism in his tone despite the high amount of affection the horse is giving him. The horse still had its saddle and an ornate cloth wrapped around its chest, so it was definitely owned by a tribesman. Continual exposure to people should have eased its timid nature over time, he assumed.
"Uh-huh!" She grinned. "Who knows, maybe you met this horse long ago when you first ended up here."
"But what are the chances?" Mark thought hard. Maybe she was right. Lissa bent down and picked up a small bundle of dry grasses and handed it to the horse that gladly ate it off her hand.
"The world's a pretty small place, if you ask me—" She said, patting the horse's snout. She responded with licking Lissa's cheek. "Hehe—especially with the whole Outrealm gate thing."
"Huh..." He mused. As the horse finished eating, Mark turned the horse towards him and gave her a good look. "You know, you definitely do look familiar—ugh, easy girl. W-wait. Stop. Uugh."
"Maribelle always says that a horse licking someone usually means they know them." Lissa said, giggling. "But I'm starting to believe that she thinks you're just a giant carrot."
"An incredibly handsome carrot, I might add—" Suddenly, a mild but constant rumbling of the earth alerted the pair. Lissa cracked jokes that her husband's presumed attractiveness earned the ire of the gods but as the rumbling grew louder and the neighs of horses and shouts of men became audible, they were treated with a rare sight, one that Lissa would always remember.
A thunderous stream of nomadic troopers rode around the city's northeastern perimeter and stopped by a large collection of gers near the gate. They hopped off their steeds with their bows slack and their scimitars sheathed. With the herd of horses left to freely roam by the river, their riders began to congeal around the city's main road and gates, cured meat hung from wooden poles shouldered by four men a piece, brown fur neatly stacked on top of horses that they used to ferry their goods. Mark deduced that it was a sizeable group akin to the Shepherds with the Royal Pegasus Guard combined.
"Are those the nomads like the one we saw on the way here?" Lissa asked. Though he was paying attention to his wife's words, Mark could not shake the feeling that he might have just seen someone that looked to be too familiar. He brushed it aside and focused all his attention on her. "They're kind of more…aggressive looking."
"Those are the hunter groups—usually led by the tribe's chieftain or their son." Mark scrutinized the patterns they wore and the size of the overall group. He nodded. "Judging from the clothing, the amount of troopers, and the short bows they're using, I'm certain those are members of the Kutolah—"
"You are quite the observer, traveler." Someone said from behind. The two were startled and Lissa once again uttered a squeak in surprise. A man stood by the gray horse, placing something on its saddle. "I apologize for startling you two."
"Oh, it's no problem at all." The two stepped back, allowing the man to tend to the horse. He wrestled with a burlap sack that he carried on his back and strapped it onto the horse's saddle. Mark knew that the man was no doubt a Sacaean—sporting thick hair with an emerald tint. He was like all nomads, his very presence demanded respect from both action and image. He was taller than the couple, yet he portrayed gentleness. Physically, his overall bulk was only emphasized with his summer garb. He was older, his wrinkled brows and defined laugh lines only further exemplified years of experience, but it looked like he was not that much older than Priam or Emmeryn.
"S-so, does this darling belong to you by any chance?" Lissa smiled, noticing the man gripping its reins. She was definitely excited, interacting with her first Sacaean. She wanted to try to speak their language but tempered the urge out of embarrassment. "Sorry if we were bothering her."
"Worry not. She seems to be enjoying your company." He said, his smile covered by his thick mustache. "But she is not mine; I am simply tending to her for my son."
"Oh, I see." Lissa nodded. "Why did he leave her here?"
"He did not wish for her to work hard in her old age." He said. "I had raised this horse since she was a newborn foal and long before my son was born."
"Oh, I gotcha." Lissa smiled. The man stepped back as the horse made her way towards Lissa and Mark. "She's pretty tame." She said, patting her snout.
"Ah, you would be surprised that Hanna does not approach those she is not familiar with." The man began grabbed the horse's reins and began to rub her snout. The horse whinnied in joy. "In fact, she tends to charge at strangers who get too close. I was surprised that she treated you two with such calmness."
Han'na? Mark zoned out. That horse…have I really met it somewhere before?
"Actually, Hanna charged at me but then she sniffed me and let me pet her." Lissa nudged her husband back to attention. "I think she knows him better than me."
"Really now?"
"It would probably be long ago." He replied under the man's scrutinizing look. "It sounds crazy but I have not been to Elibe in eight years."
"Hmm, you might have met her those years ago as she was in her prime." He said, paying no heed to the fact that he had not traveled to Elibe. He patted the horse's back, the latter whinnying. "My son sought himself through the plains and the lands beyond eight years ago as well. You might have encountered him and Han'na on his journey."
Immediately, Mark had a hunch. "Sir, is it alright if I ask where your son may be?"
"He is with the group of huntsmen you saw." The man replied. "A big hunt was upon the morn for bison fur and meat. The Djute would like to have some in exchange for grains and fruit." He then saddled up and looked at them. "I apologize that our conversation must run short; I must meet my tribe by the gates."
"No problem, sir." Mark customarily bowed to the man and the man reciprocated with a simple smile. And to his surprise, Mark began speaking Sacaean. "Excuse our rudeness, we forgot to introduce ourselves. Usha sahen dayu Mark."
"Uh…-M-Maytsya ur rame." Just as the book taught her, Lissa spoke Sacaean with rigid formality. "Usha…sahen yuha Lissa."
"Oho!" The man grinned, truly impressed. "Samuha vayen ur Soche yurr nosha uu. Very few come to our lands and know of our tongue, let alone speak!"
Mark gushed and modestly smiled. "I think I said something off…"
"Well, I only know a few phrases in Sacaean but I hope you wouldn't mind." Lissa added.
"It's all right, Lady Lissa, Sir Mark." He replied, snapping his horse's reins. "But I must be off. Let me extend my hospitality and welcome you to Sacae."
"Thank you, sir….?"
"Jemenh marame ur." He said with a sort of youthful fervor in his tone. "Usha sahen dayu Dayan. Tuggyir bar Khan Kutolah."
And he rode off to the gates.
It came as a surprise to Lissa that Bulgar was not controlled by any of the major nomadic tribes, despite being its de-facto capital. With no head of order, a diverse security force consisting of Ilian mercenaries, Bernese soldiers, and Djute tribesmen was present for the purpose of keeping the city in order and driving the bandit populace away—especially with merchant caravans from all over Bern and Lycia entering its city gates and most if not all of the Sacaean tribes.
The couple knew that entering the city would be a lot more controlled that Port Ferox would ever be. They assumed that passing through the city gate was going to be an incredibly long process: identification by local guards and a little bit of conversation and verification. Indeed they had to wait under the humid weather. Mild frustration grew as traffic into the city increased. It wasn't for the long wait time and the fact that there was a small scuffle between two Kutolah men that became the problem; rather it was Lissa's presumed "heritage" drew the most attention to them. And a good part of it irked the very fiber of Mark's being.
"Wow! That was faster than I expected!" She said, as she tied her horse down to one of the public stables by the gates of the city. With a little jump, she grabbed her traveler's bag and a hefty amount of trinkets from her saddle given to her by the Kutolah tribeswomen, and some flowers from some young merchant men. "Usually it's either Emm or Chrom that get all of the attention. I'm soooo not used to that."
"You have no idea how bad I wanted to take this tome and start a small thunderstorm." Mark muttered under his breath as he played with Thoron's bindings. Lissa's ears picked up what he said and looked at him with a smirk.
"Markypooo," She cooed and gave him a mischievous look. "Were you jealous?"
He sighed and held her hand. "Yes I was."
"Oh, you're such a child. You know you're the only one for me, Mister." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "If that wasn't the case, I would've picked some stiff-looking noble that courted me when you were gone."
"Your fault for being too pretty." He replied. Lissa immediately blushed and Mark let off a heavy sigh. "At least we got into the city with no problem. Thank the gods they thought you were a Bernese noble."
"Uuugh! Nobility was something I wasn't even trying to go for!" She said pointing to her new attire. Instead of coming along with her usual yellow dress and her skirt frame, she chose instead for a pair of cloth pants and a shorter variety of her priestess robe and cloak. "Helloo? I did my best looking un-princessy! I even managed to get Sumia and Lucina to put down my hair into a braid, see?"
With a twirl and a pose, Mark was stunned. Though there was an uncanny resemblance to her older sister, Lissa looked much more ravishing. In fact, too ravishing to the point that he felt a little bit lacking with his own outfit—a plain green cloak and a lighter version of his Grandmaster garb. He slung his bag across his torso in his attempt to hide the soft blush on his cheeks.
"W-Well, golden locks are pretty much part of Bernese nobility." He said, focusing on the conversation at hand. Gods, did he feel like a small child with a crush! "Not only that, our clothes completely do not blend in with the public! We both look out of place."
"At least we're out of place together!" And with that, she clung on to Mark's arm and walked towards their inn. Despite the piercing glares of the younger men that lined the streets, he felt a little bit happier. Swift payback, he thought.
Past the gate and the outer rim of the city, the couple walked through the merchant district, passing by the opulent, Bernese-style architecture that predominantly lined its alleys and streets. The dwellings were lined up and close together as the pine trees that surrounded Ylisstol. Grandiose houses, from two to three stories high with mauve tinged bricks lining the exterior walls. Some were made clay, some had brick and mortar walls that were stained and cured in furnaces—affordable by only the most affluent and successful merchants. Irrigation and sewage canals lay by the side of the alleyways; the stench was mostly unnoticeable from the fire mages that occasionally purified the waters. Gargoyles, statues of St. Elimine, and some gothic, and obscure carvings that resembled dragons lined the archways to these houses. It definitely surpassed Themis and Ramona's merchant district by far.
"I wouldn't be surprised if Anna had houses here." Lissa remarked, subtly covering her smile with her hand.
"How much do you want to bet that Anna owns all of these houses?" Mark said sarcastically and then realized the folly of his logic. "Nevermind."
Their inn was a mere five blocks from the district, organized by the Anna they met at the Outrealm gate. A wooden carving hung from the buildings with an etching resembling a whale carrying a ship on its back. Strange carvings, Lissa thought. But then again, Bulgar was incredibly multicultural for its location. During their walk, Mark began to tell Lissa that the moment he and Lyndis began their journey years ago, they spent most of it arguing about where to go.
"Lyndis is a strong-willed woman." He said. "But think of her as Chrom with an even harder head. I told her that supplying before heading to Ilia would be a better option, but she was so hasty going north that I had to tell her we'd starve before we would even reach the border."
And he remarked that it was in the center of the city that he first met the Lycian Knights Kent and Sain— especially the moment when they revealed that Lyn had one remaining family member all the way from Caelin and was the rightful heir to the canton.
"That must've been a real shocker if you think about it." Lissa said. "If I was raised as a regular person and out of nowhere and a pair of knights suddenly tell me that I'm an heiress, I'd freak out too!"
"I was honestly speechless." He said, opening the door to the inn.
It was not so grand that it cost an arm and a leg, nor was it too shanty or rickety just as the ones in the frigid hamlets of East Ferox. The lobby was well kept and decorated. A red-headed girl scrubbed the floors by the side and several guests sat by the chairs, casually conversing. The innkeeper was a gruff man known as Erickson, a former pirate from Badon. Mark asked if he was part of "Old Fargus' Crew" and he bitterly denied his involvement or association with the man, saying that the man dominated the waters so much, he was out of ships to plunder.
"Ah leest 'ere in Bulgar, Ah can manage tah make an 'onest livin'." He said, handing their room keys to Lissa. "Marr'd me wife 'ere. A Djute gal. Sixteen years. Two kids're runnin' about with 'er. Anyways, don't let me drone on. Enjoy ye' stay."
Seeing their room, the two agreed that Anna had their best tastes in mind. A decently sized bed with simple stripe-patterned sheets, a fruit bowl by one of the end tables and a bottle of wine with ribbon covering its cork. There were some Sacaean trinkets with a peculiar one hanging from the ceiling; a ring with string weaved over the center. Lissa said that it reminded her it of "dream nets" where nightmares would be trapped, only allowing better dreams to pass by. Mark immediately resorted to using a weak Elwind incantation to cool the room. At first, the two had the intention of setting their bags down, changing to something more causal and less travel oriented, and having a little bit of "alone time". That was until a strange stone on their desk caught Lissa's eye.
"Hey, look at this." She picked up the shone and it immediately began to glow. Suddenly, a familiar voice began speaking. "Kyaaa!"
Mark immediately went to check what was wrong. Lissa stammered, incoherently combining words and phrases. In the end, she pointed to the glowing stone.
"Hello?" The stone said. The couple was surprised. It was as if the voice resonated throughout the entire room. "Halloo-oh? Is this thing on? Mark? Lissa? It's Anna from the Shepherd barracks."
"A-Anna?" Lissa stammered, picking up the stone. "H-how are you talking to us? Are you in the stone? Don't worry, we'll break you out—"
"Wait, don't break the stone!" She yelled. "What you're holding right now is called a 'sending stone'. Helps me communicate from people far away, after a few modifications of course. Be sure to bring this with you during the trip for emergency purposes. Other than that, how are the accommodations I set up for you guys?"
"I-It's pretty comfortable." Mark said, still taken aback. "And it definitely suits our needs."
"Don't actually speak aloud. Just think it." Anna remarked. "Yelling at a rock might be a little weird to the public eye." She giggled. "Anyway, did you guys want something fancier?"
"Not really." Lissa smiled. "This is definitely more than enough, Anna. Thank you."
"Great! You guys still remember the rules my sister said, right?"
"Yes ma'am." Mark answered. "Don't attempt to change the history of this continent and we're not allowed to interact with the people we meet for too long."
"Oh, talking to people is actually fine but you're not allowed to say 'you're going to die in six days' or any of that sort. That's a big no-no."
"We'll be sure to not tell people they're gonna die or anything." Lissa chuckled. "Is there anything else?"
"Nope, not really no—Oh! I'm letting you know that your stays in Laus, Pherae, and Etruria are ready when you arrive there. Erickson will give you your full itinerary by tomorrow."
"We'll take note of that. Thanks again, Anna." Mark said.
"No problem! Enjoy your Anna-sponsored vacation! Have fuuuun and don't forget to advertise!" And the stone's glow faded away. The couple looked at each other and blinked. There was silence shortly after between them with the only sounds being the ruffling of fabric as they changed away from their travel garb to something more homey. They couldn't be thrown off by Anna's trinkets anymore after getting used to her strange creations.
By sunset, they walked around the block, visiting artisan shops and watching street shows. Lissa was already prepared for their little tour with a snapshot tome on her person. Mark found her eagerness to be cute. The evening went on and the two opted to eat dinner by the inn's front. Other than admiring the bustling night lights and the spectacular views that dotted the merchant district, it was fairly uneventful. Nevertheless, time passed by quickly with the moon's curvature already rising past their window sill when they returned to their room.
Mark blew out all the candles, allowing a strong beam of moonlight to come through, illuminating a section of their room. As the moon rose higher, Bulgar began to slumber. After taking their baths, Mark resorted to a simple tunic and pants while Lissa changed into her nightgown; both were ready to go to bed. They hoped tomorrow would be a very eventful day of sightseeing and just appreciating each other's company.
"Before we get ready for tomorrow's big day…" Lissa beckoned alluringly as she sat on the edge of their bed and leaned backwards. He turned around and saw the vague outline of her body; one side illuminated with the moonlight the other partially hidden in the shadows. With a mischievous look and a subtle reveal of her shoulders, she smirked. "Should we have a little game?"
Mark sat next to her and leaned forward. He kissed the nape of her neck. "What do you have in mind?"
"Something…adventurous."
Author's Note:
Everything's ready! Fantastic! Missed me? Nope? Perfect! Anyway, looks like our first Elibe chapter will be split up into two parts. And oh, how adventurous will the next one be! Moving on. So yeah, for those who were a little bit of confused on the "Sacaean" language, I just huddled up Mongolian and various things. Nevertheless, I will confirm here that the couple has just met a younger Dayan, the Silver Wolf of the Kutolah tribe. For those who don't know who he is, he is a minor supporting character in Fire Emblem 6.
Other than that, there are updates to some of the "Premonition" chapters, notably the first one having a mild overhaul. And uh...yeah. That's just about it. Read and Review! Enjoy your things and Happy Holidays!
