~ Chapter 7 ~
Morgan stepped away as soon as the phantom came to life. Tantalus hadn't told them much about phantoms in general, and she knew absolutely nothing about this opponent in particular, but she guessed that putting some distance between her and her mysterious enemy would probably work in her favor.
The phantom drew to its full height, but even then, it remained rather unimposing. It stood only slightly taller than Morgan, and was remarkably slender, making it quite obvious that there couldn't be an actual human beneath the thin, carefully layered whitish plates. Flaming, lifeless eyes of golden fire peered out eerily from the eye sockets of its skull-shaped visor as both of the phantom's gauntlets drifted to its side, each coming to a rest on the hilt of a sheathed blade.
Morgan wasn't about to let the opening slip away so easily. Before the phantom could draw its weapons, she brought Thani forward, and a blinding explosion of light struck the phantom, throwing it back several steps.
But the phantom rallied gamely, effortlessly shrugging off the devastating spell. The sound of its long, slender, and curved blades being unsheathed resonated impossibly loud over the din of battle.
Morgan grimaced as she recognized the weapons. They were similar to the swords favored by swordsmen originating from Chon'sin. Two of the former Shepherds, Queen Say'ri of Chon'sin and Lon'qu of Ferox, had favored such weapons, and both were incredibly skilled with the deadly blades. In the right hands, the curved edges were exceptionally effective in parrying, and turning successful parries into deadly precise counterattacks.
To make matters worse, the phantom had clearly been expertly designed for its weapons. Its joints were carefully rounded, offering it as free a range of motion as possible. Vaguely, Morgan remembered West-Ferox's ruler, Khan Basilio, mentioning that Lon'qu seemed to be of Chon'sin heritage. Given Lon'qu's exotic facial features, and his slender build that seemed characteristic of Chon'sin swordsmen, it seemed quite plausible.
Seeing that her first magical salvo had proved ineffective, Morgan drew her sword. Before she could move to attack, the phantom dived towards her with blinding speed, its blades surging forth at a carefully measured angles. The two exotic weapons closed in together as a pincer might have, too quick for Morgan to step away. Instead, the young tactician pressed ahead, sweeping Eternity outwards to send one blade spinning aside, and following it to escape the deflected weapon's sister blade. As she shuffled alongside the phantom, she extended one foot outwards, kicking at the phantom's thin chausses in a feeble attempt to upset her foe's balance.
To her surprise, the phantom was surprisingly light, and couldn't hold its ground nearly as well as she had anticipated. The phantom stumbled aside, and though it found its balance a split second later, the distraction was all Morgan needed to settle into a defensive posture of her own. The two scintillating, curved blades spun through the air with blinding speed and in perfect harmony, but with a carefully measured, efficient stroke, Morgan managed to deflect both weapons.
This time, Morgan released her grip on Eternity, throwing herself to the ground and tumbling away from the unnatural fiend. She had already abandoned any notion of prolonging this duel, knowing that when it came to swordplay, she was badly outmatched. She came out of her roll neatly despite the uneven dirt floor, with her light tome readied once more. Knowing that her thrown weapon could not distract her opponent for long, she quickly fired off another burst of light, this time aiming a little bit closer to put the spell between her and her opponent.
Rather than walking into the blast, the phantom proved its remarkable reflexes once more, carefully falling back a step before agilely dancing around the pillar of light. But Morgan had expected as much, and had been studying the phantoms footwork even as she released her first spell. The light spell had blinded her, but it mattered not – her second spell was already descending on the phantom as it tried to approach her from her left, forcing it to roll away. Her third spell connected squarely on the phantom as it dove aside, cutting off the evasive movement and plastering it to the ground.
"Got you!" Morgan proclaimed gleefully, as she cast her light tome aside, drawing her fire tome instead.
With a graceful flip, the phantom sailed back to its feet, regaining its balance immediately. But before it could charge again, a conjured, flaming sphere caught the phantom in the chest. Ravenous flames erupted all around the point of impact, immolating the monstrosity entirely. "Shrug that off," Morgan taunted, as she reached down for her light tome.
The flames faded away, revealing the phantom standing in a rather odd posture, as if it had crumpled back a step before freezing rigidly. Then its helm tilted upward, revealing a partially-melted visor and the golden, swirling flames it had instead of eyes, peering out from the inky darkness. The unpleasant screech of metal scraping against metal sounded as the damaged phantom corrected its posture. A few small pieces of twisted metal fell aside, littering the scorched earth beneath its feet with charred and blackened debris, and it sprang forward again.
"I was just kidding!" Morgan protested feebly. Forced to abandon both her sword and light tome, she backed away frantically, firing off another fireball as she went. Despite the visible damage the phantom had sustained, it twisted away from her projectile easily enough and continued its undaunted approach.
Over the screech of metal scraping against metal, and the crackle of the hungry flames still devouring the Redeemer camp, Morgan heard the faint whisper of a bowstring being drawn. Instinctively, she threw herself to the ground before realizing that it was probably the Daein prince coming to her aid.
An arrow tipped with a metallic black arrowhead spun out from behind some of the Redeemers' supply carts, aimed not for the phantom, but for Morgan. The arrow soared harmlessly over the tactician's prone form, as a tall, wiry man emerged from behind the carts. This Redeemer was equipped rather differently from his companions, wearing a tailored leather brigandine instead of metal armor. His brigandine, as well as his long, hooded cloak were dyed black. The man had drawn back his hood, revealing his plainly trimmed brown hair and a wicked grin. The would-be assassin reached for a second arrow, but even as Morgan regained her footing, the phantom attacked once more, obstructing the assassin's line of fire.
With a shrug, the assassin loosed his arrow anyways. He was rather inept with the bow, and the arrow struck the phantom instead, but bounced harmlessly off the phantom's pauldron. "I guess I'll have to let the phantom take you, then," he said with a sigh, with mock disappointment.
Even with the assassin standing by uselessly, Morgan knew she was in serious trouble. Being caught within reach of the phantom would have been bad enough, but her tome was no substitute for her sword when it came to parrying a blade. "Priam! Soren! Help!" she cried out, hoping that one of her companions would be close enough to intercede. She loosed another fireball at the phantom as she sidestepped its blades yet again, but the phantom seemed unfazed. To make matters worse, the assassin was still waiting, grinning confidently.
Another idea presented itself. She lifted her tome high, feigning a strike from a higher vantage point. The phantom saw the opening and lunged forward, but Morgan had already skittered back. Seeing the phantom's blades extended, Morgan dove towards the phantom, rolling under the outreached swords. With one hand, she sent a blast of fire out, not at the phantom, but at the assassin. The Redeemer fired back reflexively, but was too late – Morgan's spell incinerated his arrow before catching him fully in the face.
Morgan didn't have time to admire her handiwork. Her roll had taken her precisely past her fallen sword, and even as the Redeemer assassin slumped to the ground, Morgan reclaimed Eternity in her left hand and only barely managed to execute her next parry.
Her carefully executed maneuver had been almost perfect. She had managed to turn one of the phantom's blades aside at an angle to partially obscure the second, but the phantom managed to twist its arms in a distinctly inhuman manner, and its second sword glanced off Morgan's exposed left arm. Though her new robes had weathered the blow somewhat, she felt a painful sting and knew that she hadn't escaped unscathed, after all.
Fighting past the pain, Morgan scrambled away from the phantom, hoping desperately that her spell had at least left the Redeemer assassin incapacitated. When she squared off with the phantom once more, with several long paces separating her from her opponent, she was relieved to see the fallen Redeemer still rolling about frantically, trying to extinguish the flames that still clung relentlessly to his cloak.
The phantom, now crackling with small flickers of black lightning, continued its methodical, single-minded approach, as if it had not even noticed its ally's plight.
"Just die already!" Morgan cried out in exasperation, as she drew her tome and sent forth another furious barrage of fireballs.
The phantom twisted away from her first few spells, but the magical flurry was simply too fast. Fireball after fireball connected, pummeling the resilient creature repeatedly. The phantom finally gave up trying to avoid Morgan's spells, and brought its thin, wiry arms up in a cross, as if hoping to shield itself from the flames. The defensive posture proved futile, as the intense flames began melting the whitish metal, twisting and blackening the phantom's damaged gauntlets and bracers.
And then, out of nowhere, a wave of energy rippled through the air, slamming into the phantom from behind. As the wounded phantom staggered aside, Priam rushed forward and followed up his initial attack with a forceful, downward chop, and Ragnell bit deep into the phantom's right pauldron with a loud crunching noise. Morgan held her next spell, not wanting to accidentally hit her friend.
In contrast, Lionel didn't hesitate whatsoever. As he came rushing towards them, he snapped off two quick shots, sending two arrows neatly past Priam, burying them in the phantom's damaged breastplate.
The phantom only clambered to its feet once more. Priam and Lionel both gasped in surprise, with Priam diving aside only moments before the phantom's killing swords could strike at him. Lionel fired off another arrow, but this time, the phantom's sword spun outward, catching and deflecting his shot.
"Some can't wait to die," Soren muttered, announcing his own arrival. Though he didn't speak loudly, his voice carried and he was easily heard by his companions. A howling gale then spiraled forth, deafening everyone nearby, and lifting the phantom several feet into the air. The helpless phantom flailed uselessly as it was launched over Morgan's head, and crashed into the scorched remains of a nearby tent a second later.
Morgan, who had taken advantage of the distraction to retrieve her light tome, decided against waiting to see if the phantom was really destroyed, and dropped another shining plume of light upon her hapless foe. The phantom shuddered painfully, then fell apart in a flash of golden fire. The young tactician stared at the fallen pieces of armor for several seconds, holding her breath. Finally convinced that the phantom was finally beaten, she let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks," she said gratefully.
Priam was still gaping at the fallen phantom. "The Redeemers can make monsters like this?" he sputtered in disbelief.
"It's the first time I've seen anything like it," Lionel admitted, as he, too, eyed the thoroughly shattered pieces of armor cautiously. "Honestly, I hope it'll be the last… hold!" Lionel cried, as he spotted a sudden flurry of movement nearby.
A short distance away, the fallen Redeemer assassin had leapt to his feet, his bow abandoned. Ignoring the prince, he drew a throwing knife from his belt and sent it spinning through the air wildly, hoping to distract his foes long enough to make his escape. Lionel retaliated in a far more accurate manner, and an arrow tore through the Redeemer's shoulder.
"Yield!" Lionel demanded. Priam drew his sword too and brandished it threateningly. Morgan held her light tome up as well, even as she tried to decide how best to disarm and capture their injured foe.
Distracted as she was, she didn't notice when Soren silently slipped her fire tome off of its hook on her weapons belt. Sharing none of Morgan's hesitation, Soren calmly immolated the assassin.
"Don't count on it," Soren said coolly, ignoring Morgan's sputtering protests as he casually returned her tome. "The Redeemers must have invested considerable time and effort in designing such elaborate shells for their phantoms. I doubt they would have used the design only once or twice."
Morgan grimaced as she realized Soren had made the right decision. They didn't have time to sit around interrogating the Redeemer, nor could they afford to slow their return north in dragging a captive soldier in their wake. Letting the assassin escape was completely out of the question, too.
"The war Tantalus spoke of could prove catastrophic if they truly command entire armies of these phantoms," Lionel remarked uneasily.
Soren only shrugged. "I'm afraid that's your problem, Prince. I don't intend to be here to see it, if it does somehow come to fruition. We should be on our way."
"What about this… mess?" Priam asked, fumbling a bit in his search for the right word. His gaze lingered upon the dead Redeemers.
"Leave them for the crows. We don't have time for grave digging. The rest of the Redeemers will return sooner or later, and I would rather not test their leader's prowess, if this construct is any indication of his power," Soren reminded grimly.
In their haste to be away from the encampment, the weary party set a brisk pace in retracing their steps to the east. They stopped only briefly when they reached the river, where Soren quickly tended to Morgan's injured arm. Then they hurried back to the north, to the Snowflake Forest and Wilderness's Edge.
To their surprise, the settlement was no longer deserted. At first, it looked unchanged from when they had last past through, and they paid it very little attention as they made their way through, with Soren leading the way back to the trail that would take them to Tantalus's cave.
"Prince Lionel," a mellow voice called out to them politely. Startled, all four of them turned to see a middle-aged man with silvery-blue hair and tanned skin standing near one of the empty, abandoned tents. He was clad in a dark brown tunic, and wore a long white cape. Both garments were quite worn, as was the small traveling pouch the man carried.
Lionel nodded stiffly, apparently recognizing the man. His expression made his confusion clear, though, and the prince seemed unsure of how to manage this unexpected encounter.
Meanwhile, the man turned to Soren, and his eyes narrowed curiously. After a brief pause, his expression became one of complete surprise. "Soren!?"
Morgan and Priam exchanged surprised looks. Soren, on the other hand, was unconcerned. "Nasir," he greeted coolly, apparently recognizing the strange man.
Laguz, Morgan corrected herself mentally, realizing that for this man and Soren to recognize each other, the man must be far older than he appeared.
Nasir broke into a wide smile. "Soren! It has been far too long, my old friend!"
"Not long enough," Soren said grimly, clearly not sharing Nasir's enthusiasm. At first, Morgan attributed it to Soren's naturally churlish demeanor, or to his roleplaying to support their current ploy, but there was a hint of genuine bitterness in Soren's tone that seemed oddly disconcerting. "Why are you here, Nasir? Are you here to meddle in affairs that don't concern you once more? To ingratiate yourself to others before plunging a dagger in their backs?"
Morgan turned to Soren, shocked, but Soren ignored her easily. Nervously, Morgan turned to Priam, and noticed that he, too, seemed surprised by the sudden display of hostility.
Nasir, too, was surprised, though he also looked a bit uncomfortable. "You speak of a distant past, Soren, and of crimes that have long since been confessed to and forgiven. And you know of my reasons, too."
Soren nodded agreeably. "I know, but care little," Soren admitted, his voice still carrying an unmistakably sharp edge. "Just as I care little for your presence here, save to ensure that you stay out of our way."
"Of course I would not seek to hinder you," Nasir protested immediately, though he was now eyeing Soren suspiciously. Morgan silently remembered thinking that the Soren she knew could be a very different person from the one that had left Tellius centuries ago. Nasir's doubts seemed to confirm Morgan's guess. "We were friends once, were we not?" Nasir continued, apparently trying to keep the conversation friendly.
"Allies," Soren corrected pedantically. "And even then, our alliance was tentative at best, was it not? I seem to recall you fighting by your King Dheginsea, trying to thwart us as we ascended the Tower of Guidance."
"I had no choice," Nasir argued feebly, as he shook his head. "I was honor bound to serve my king."
"Excuses," Soren said dismissively. "That's all you Laguz could ever offer. Stubborn pride and pathetic excuses."
"Soren," Priam gasped quietly, shocked by the blatantly racist remark. Morgan, too, looked at Soren in confusion. She remembered briefly joking that Soren would be playing the part of a "bitter, old man" before they left Daein, but his attitude was far colder than she could have expected. The worst of it was, from his surprisingly heated and emotional tone, she wasn't even entirely sure it was all an act anymore.
Nasir looked naturally hurt, and seemed to share their surprise at the venomous declaration. "Soren, what happened to you?" he whispered softly. "If there was anything to be truly gained from our trials against the goddess, it was our newfound tolerance of one another, and the mutual respect the Beorc and the Laguz found."
"Why do you care now, Nasir? You already know what I am. Destined to watch the world pass me by. Damned to remain idle as what joy I could find departed this world for the void. Doomed to drift along, powerless against the ways of our world," Soren remarked, in a chilling tone. "But to you and your kind, that's the way of life, is it not? You watch the world as detached observers. You meddle only when it suits your own needs. When Prince Rajaion was taken by wretched King Ashnard, you had no qualms in betraying our trust and endangering all of Tellius, but where was Goldoa when we branded were cast out? Where was Goldoa when the Laguz willingly treated us as filth, threatening and even killing us, simply because we shared only half of their heritage?"
"You speak of mistakes we have long since admitted! Mistakes of a different era!" Nasir protested. "You alone cling to the past, Soren!"
Soren smiled, a haunting look that did little to set Nasir at ease. "I admit it," Soren said calmly. "I do not belong in this time, nor do I belong in your world. But don't worry. We will find what we came for, and we will be on our way soon enough."
"At least tell me what you are searching for," Nasir pleaded. "Perhaps I could help you."
Morgan could see the desperation and shame etched into Nasir's face, and was finally beginning to understand. Soren wasn't acting, after all. The carefully concealed pain seemed all too real now, and it seemed there was some truth in Soren's scathing accusations, given the obvious guilt and sympathy in Nasir's pained expression.
"We don't need your help, Nasir," Soren said snidely, dismissing Nasir's offer without a thought. "We will tend to our own affairs."
Nasir seemed insistent on offering what he could, anyways. "You must be careful. I seek a man named Tantalus, who I believe to be in this region. He's tampering with extremely dangerous magic, which could threaten the lives of tens of thousands."
At that remark, Morgan, Priam, and Lionel all fidgeted uncomfortably. The last thing any of them wanted was to get into a fight with Nasir, but Nasir seemed plainly opposed to Tantalus's scheme. Unfortunately, it left them in a rather awkward position, especially if Tantalus was watching.
Their discomfort did not escape Nasir's attention, though, and Nasir glanced at Morgan, and then Priam. His eyes came to a rest upon Ragnell, which Priam still held ready. "Ragnell…" Nasir whispered in recognition. He looked up, his gaze meeting Priam's. "Then you are…"
"We have met your Tantalus," Soren said flatly, drawing Nasir's attention, and eliciting a disbelieving stare from each of his companions. Morgan almost burst into protest, for with that simple statement, Soren had likely dismissed any chance of this encounter ending peacefully. But the damage was done.
"Where?" Nasir urged. "I have to find him and stop him before it's too late!"
"You will do no such thing," Soren replied.
Nasir understood. "You're working for Tantalus," Nasir stated more than asked. "You're helping him search for Extinction's essence."
Soren nodded calmly, and a flurry of mixed emotions made its way across Nasir's face. "Why, Soren!?" Nasir finally demanded. "Why would you possibly fall in with someone like Tantalus?"
"He has the power to help us," Soren said, as if that was the only thing that mattered.
"But if he succeeds, he will bring death and destruction upon thousands!" Nasir argued. "You can't do this, Soren!"
Soren chuckled sardonically. "People bring death and destruction upon themselves all the time," he pointed out cruelly.
"No. I won't let you do this," Nasir argued. "I can't allow it."
Morgan found herself torn. She was tempted to cast their plan aside, for she still didn't want this encounter to come to blows. She didn't know Nasir too well, but Nasir did not seem like an evil man, no matter Soren's feelings on the encounter. But even as she reached for Soren's shoulder, a gesture to hopefully rein him in, she hesitated, searching for the right words.
Soren, on the other hand, didn't hesitate in the slightest.
A powerful wind spell grasped Nasir and flung him through the air, slamming him into a nearby tree.
"Soren!" Morgan cried out in protest, but her voice was almost entirely drowned out by the howling winds. The winds died away, but before any of them could speak further, Nasir let out an angry, strangled cry.
The man was gone, replaced by a fierce, white-scaled dragon that towered over the four of them. All but Soren shrank back instinctively, awed by the fearsome spectacle. "Enough of this!" Nasir roared.
For a fleeting moment, Morgan thought they were all about to die. This was a dragon standing before them. She had known three Manaketes before, and any of them could hold their own against even the fiercest human warriors, yet Nasir was larger than the three of them combined.
But Nasir had only hoped to cow them into submission, and Soren, who had obviously known of Nasir's nature, was unimpressed. A brutal wave of wind magic pummeled Nasir, who recoiled in pain. The relentless barrage continued for several seconds, shearing off some of the proud white dragon's scales. Nasir's glacier eyes flashed dangerously, and his head reared back as if preparing to unleash is potent, devastating breath weapon. But he had realized the danger too late, and couldn't gather his strength.
Mighty as the white dragon appeared, Nasir was thoroughly beaten. But Soren wasn't finished, and another powerful gale slammed into the dragon, even as he tried to retreat.
Morgan could see the pain, fear, and strangely enough, acceptance, in the white dragon's noble eyes. "Stop!" she cried, recognizing that there was no more fight left in the Laguz. "Soren, stop! You're going to kill him!" She lifted her own tome, silently wondering if she could stop Soren in time should Soren refuse.
But Soren did stop, and the magical assault came to an abrupt halt. "Not necessarily," Soren said flippantly, as if he was simply commenting on something as mundane as the weather. "That wouldn't do us much good, anyways."
Nasir slumped back and reverted to his human shape. His weathered skin had suffered many cuts, and his face had been bloodied. Though his clothing was mostly unharmed, streaks of blood stained Nasir's cloak, showing the extent of the Laguz's wounds.
Morgan reached for a staff, but stopped when she saw Soren step forth instead. But Soren made no move to heal the wounded man, and instead, stared Nasir in the eyes, matching Nasir's pleading look with a mask of pure hatred. "I know you're going to run off and tell your king about this. But it doesn't really bother me, because by the time you and yours make it back here, our work will be finished. We'll be gone from your land, hopefully never to return."
"Soren, please," Nasir gasped. Morgan winced and gripped her staff tightly, as she realized that her earlier statement had been accurate, after all. If the brutal wounds Soren had inflicted upon the Laguz weren't fatal, they certainly would be if left untreated.
"Farewell, Nasir," was Soren's only reply, as the wind mage walked away, his face grimly unemotional once more.
Priam and Lionel both looked to be at a complete loss as to what to do, but Soren ignored them and started down the trail. The two of them glanced at Morgan briefly, before turning to follow Soren away from the gruesome scene.
But Morgan had had enough. If this was going to put their scheme at risk, so be it. She invoked her long-ranged healing staff, but rushed to Nasir's side anyways, hoping she wasn't too late.
Nasir's eyes opened a moment later, and he shot her a grateful, but surprised look. Morgan smiled sympathetically, but before she could say anything, Soren's voice rang out once more.
"Morgan!" Soren barked impatiently.
Morgan turned around and shot him a defiant look. "I'm coming," she replied. She turned to the Laguz one last time, though, before she left. "I'm sorry," she whispered to Nasir, before hurrying off after Soren and wondering what would become of their plans now.
Soren said nothing when Morgan caught up to them. Priam and Lionel, too, both looked as if they were trying to put the painful encounter behind them, though they did seem relieved and grateful for Morgan's actions. Still, they said nothing, and at first, Morgan took it to mean she hadn't caused any irreversible damage after all.
Not that she really cared if she had or not. Soren had simply gone too far, to Morgan's thinking. While his behavior was fitting for the façade he had chosen, the entire encounter was overboard, and wholly unnecessary. She shot Soren an angry glare, which Soren ignored easily enough. That only infuriated Morgan further, but the reasonable, tactician side of her mind won over, persuading her to at least remain quiet on the subject until she had a better grasp on their direction, and her own emotions.
"We'll talk later," Soren said calmly, reading her expression easily and echoing her thoughts.
Morgan only nodded stiffly, and they set off at a much slower pace. After a short time, Lionel set off, mumbling something about ensuring they weren't being followed and promising to follow. Soren didn't even bother to acknowledge the prince, and Morgan and Priam only met his stare briefly before the prince disappeared into the thick woods around them.
They stopped early in the afternoon for some well-needed rest, as the fatigue from the battle they had fought the night before was beginning to take its toll. Priam retired quickly to his tent after grabbing a quick bite to eat, and Lionel took his meal with him as he went for a walk in the surrounding woods. "I guess we each deal with uncertainty in our own way," Morgan mumbled ruefully.
"Uncertainty? Don't tell me you are harboring doubts now. It is your friend we're searching for, after all," Soren said dryly upon overhearing her.
Morgan glared at him. "Yes. I came here to find my friend. I don't mind trying to stop to the Redeemers' schemes, either," she said, choosing her words carefully. "But none of that requires nearly killing an innocent man who only offered to help us!"
"Innocent?" Soren scoffed.
"Yes, innocent," Morgan said defiantly. "Or are you still angry about all those terrible things you say the Laguz did centuries ago?"
"Hardly," Soren said, meeting her angry stare calmly. "But Nasir is rather fond of his little secrets, and I have no interest in playing his games."
"Little secrets?" Morgan echoed, frowning. "Like what?"
"If I knew, they wouldn't be secret, would they?" Soren said irritably. "But for starters, how does Nasir even know about Tantalus and his goals? Remember our audience with Queen Micaiah. She hadn't even heard of Tantalus."
That gave Morgan a pause. "I hadn't thought about that," Morgan admitted reluctantly, after thinking it over. "Are you saying Nasir might be working for the Redeemers?"
"Nothing of the sort," Soren corrected. "Contrary to the old saying, the enemy of your enemy is not always your friend. Nasir could very well have been investigating the Redeemers when he learned of Tantalus. But we can't know that for certain, can we?"
"We could have tried asking him," Morgan said, a bit of her anger returning.
"Because he wouldn't lie to us, right?" Soren said, with a short, harsh burst of laughter. "Morgan, you know of Nasir, even though you've never heard his name before today, I imagine."
"I do?" Morgan asked, surprised.
"You remember the story of Mad King Ashnard's war, do you not?" Soren asked. "The Fire Emblem was stolen…"
"By a Daein spy, not long before the final battle of the war," Morgan interrupted impatiently. "What does that have to do with Nasir?"
"Nasir was the Daein spy who stole the Fire Emblem," Soren stated.
"What!?" Morgan asked, flabbergasted.
"I didn't mention him by name. There was no need to include every last detail in retelling Ike's story," Soren said with a shrug. "We chartered Nasir's ship for our voyage from Crimea to Begnion, and he accompanied us during our campaign. He stole the medallion from Ike's younger sister and turned it over to King Ashnard in hopes of protecting his granddaughter, who King Ashnard had forced into servitude."
Morgan's anger deflated as she remembered the accusations Soren had made earlier against the Laguz. "Who's Prince Rajaion?" she asked, in a softer tone.
"He was the prince of Goldoa, Nasir's granddaughter's fiancé," Soren explained. "He was kidnapped by King Ashnard. One of Ashnard's servants transformed Rajaion into a feral Laguz, warping his mind and keeping him permanently in his dragon shape. He served as Ashnard's mount."
"Nasir stole the Fire Emblem to try to save his granddaughter's fiancé," Morgan guessed.
"Who knows?" Soren shrugged. "Maybe it was to save Rajaion, or maybe it was to save Ena, who had indentured herself to King Ashnard in hopes of finding some way to save her fiancé herself. In truth, his actions weren't as reckless as we believed at the time. Nasir knew that merely owning the Fire Emblem wasn't enough to unleash Yune. But it would've been nice if he thought to inform us of that little detail. Not to mention, the battle was nearly lost when King Ashnard touched the medallion and grew far stronger, losing much of his sanity in the process."
Morgan cringed. "Fine," she conceded. "Maybe we couldn't have trusted him. But I still think we could have just sent him away. You provoked him," she accused.
"I did," Soren admitted. "I don't hate the Laguz. Not anymore. I won't claim to be fond of them, though, and the insufferable dragons are by far the worst. They were content to hide away in their corner of the continent while the rest of Tellius was consumed by war. Then they emerged from their metaphorical shell, standing by the goddess even as she threatened to bring a permanent end to our world. Nasir was there that day, standing beside his kin and king."
"So Nasir was right. You still hold a grudge for what he and his people did centuries ago," Morgan said distastefully.
"Hardly. I just didn't want to waste time on idle banter with someone I have no reason to trust," Soren said. "Dragons can be rather arrogant…"
"Sounds like someone else I know," Morgan interrupted with a huff.
"And they're used to getting their way," Soren continued, as if Morgan hadn't spoken. "I wasn't about to waste my time trying to deceive him, and he wasn't about to let us walk away uncontested after we told him the truth of our presence here."
"Still, you had him beaten cleanly. You didn't have to be so brutal," Morgan said with a sigh.
"Not brutal, but efficient," Soren corrected easily. "He's a dragon, Morgan. Holding back against a dragon Laguz isn't just unwise, it's outright suicidal."
"But…" Morgan began, but Soren cut her off quickly.
"If it makes you feel better, I'm glad you went back to help him," Soren said.
"You are?" Morgan asked, confused, and more than a little bit annoyed. "Then why…"
"I might not like Nasir, but neither do I want him dead," Soren clarified. "I meant it when I told Nasir that we have nothing to fear from him. With a Laguz gem, he might be able to make it home to Goldoa in less than a week, though such an effort would tax him thoroughly even if he weren't injured."
"Laguz gem?" Morgan asked wonderingly.
"Most Laguz cannot remain transformed indefinitely," Soren said. "A Laguz gem is a rare gemstone that somehow synergizes with a Laguz's biorhythm. Once activated, the gem crumbles to dust, but the Laguz remains in his transformed state until he willingly reverts."
"That seems pretty useful," Morgan remarked.
"Yes. They are quite rare, but I expect Nasir was probably carrying one. If not, he likely has contacts all over the continent, and may be able to find one in short order," Soren said darkly. "Still, Goldoa is a week's flight from here. We should have at least two weeks to finish our work here with Tantalus if he reaches out to his people for help."
"What if Nasir doesn't go to Goldoa?" Morgan asked, recalling that Goldoa was indeed nearly on the other side of the continent. "Maybe he knows where his missing king is. Or maybe he has friends in other kingdoms who he could go to for help."
Soren shrugged. "You're right. I suspect Nasir knows exactly where King Goldoa is. Thankfully, it doesn't really matter. King Goldoa must be traveling with a small entourage, seeing that his whereabouts remain unknown to the rest of Tellius. Nasir will need more help than that. Begnion and Phoenicis are quite far, too, and if he goes to Daein, Micaiah will keep him from interfering long enough for us to finish our work here. If he goes to Crimea, it will still take him several days to reach Melior. Even then, it will still give us at least a week."
"You really did think this through," Morgan finally conceded unhappily.
Soren took the offhand compliment in stride. "You seem displeased," he noticed.
Morgan glared at him. "I still don't like the way you 'handled' Nasir," she informed him defiantly. A ghost of a smile flitted across Soren's face, causing Morgan to roll her eyes, annoyed that Soren apparently found her empathy amusing.
"You remind me of an old friend, Morgan," Soren said, still smiling faintly. Morgan glanced at him, startled, for the wistful tone was not one she expected to hear from him. "Centuries ago, he was charged with leading an army into what looked to be an extremely difficult campaign. Do you know what a floodgate is?"
"I think so," Morgan said, thinking back to the many afternoons she had spent in her father's library. "I read that in some parts of Ferox, the rivers rise too high in the spring during the thaw. The Feroxi designed their dams so that the flow of water could be somewhat controlled."
Soren nodded. "Our enemies sought to impede our approach, and opened their floodgates to do so, intentionally causing a massive flood and effectively turning the local fields into swampland. We managed to defeat the opposing general and close the gate, allowing the water to recede, but there was no reversing the damage to the fields and nearby villages," Soren explained.
"That's awful!" Morgan said. "They endangered the livelihoods of their own people just to slow down your army?"
"Yes," Soren said. "After the battle was won, our inexperienced general ordered us to distribute a portion of our own supplies among the locals. Now there was a sound tactical decision if there ever was one: give away a major portion of your provisions at the beginning of your campaign."
"It obviously wasn't about strategy," Morgan said defensively. Silently, she knew Soren's observation was on point. If it had been her leading this army, she probably would have done the same thing, however unwise it seemed. "What did you say when he gave the order?"
"I called him an idiot," Soren said simply. "Though it didn't stop me from following him through the rest of our trials, and to the ends of the world after."
"You're talking about Ike, aren't you?" Morgan realized. "The Radiant Hero."
She felt slightly foolish for not realizing it sooner, for the story of a battle amidst flooded fields was part of the legend of the Radiant Hero told in Ylisse. That particular chapter had focused more upon a wyvern knight accompanying the Greil Mercenaries being forced to confront her own father. Soren's account of the battle seemed a little bit less dramatic than the stories, though.
Morgan wondered briefly if the more commonly told story about the wyvern knight was true, too, but before she could ask, Soren sighed morosely. "I imagine he'd be pretty cross with me, too, for how I dealt with Nasir back there," Soren said quietly, speaking to himself. "You never stopped considering the meddling old fool a friend, did you, Ike?"
Morgan didn't know what to say to that, and only watched silently as Soren went back to stoking the campfire. It seemed the old tactician's strangely conversational mood was short-lived, after all.
They didn't break the camp until the following morning. When they did, it seemed like a full night's rest had done much in restoring their spirits. Lionel still seemed timid around Soren, but Priam was back to his gnomic, contemplative self.
During their trek away from Tantalus's home, Morgan had done her best to memorize their route, but after only a few twists and turns along the winding forest path, she was thoroughly lost and left with no recourse but to follow Soren's lead.
After an hour of what felt like aimless meandering, Morgan amused herself with the thought that perhaps Soren was lost, too. But he wasn't, and Soren's sense of direction proved to be impeccable once again, as he led them directly to the cave at the edge of the forest.
This time, Tantalus was idly waiting for them in front of the cavern. "Well done," he congratulated, as soon as he saw his guests returning to his hidden sanctuary.
"You were watching?" Soren asked, sounding mildly surprised and impressed. "How did you manage that?"
"I have my ways," Tantalus said with a conspiratorial smile. "Though I'm sorry to say I could not witness your battle with the Redeemers first hand. Still, I can imagine the carnage easily enough, after your brilliant display against that meddling Laguz."
Morgan, Priam, and Lionel all shifted uneasily and glanced at one another. Priam and Lionel hadn't fully put their encounter with Nasir behind them, yet. Neither had Morgan, for that matter, but that was not the source of her discomfort. Tantalus's comment had confirmed their earliest suspicions – the old spirit charmer must have been capable of spying on them, somehow. Morgan couldn't help but wonder if they had really fooled Tantalus as thoroughly as they had hoped.
At least Tantalus didn't seem capable of reading minds. "I'm glad you sent him away relatively unharmed. There is far too much blood on my hands already," Tantalus admitted quietly, aiming his words at Morgan.
"Relatively unharmed is hardly a fitting description," Soren said. "But he will live."
Tantalus nodded solemnly. "Then we must consider the other implications of the dragon Laguz involving themselves in our predicament. Goldoa has been silent for quite some time, watching distantly as the Redeemers' schemes unfold," Tantalus said.
"But they're beginning to understand the threat of the Redeemers, and perhaps the danger of our own course," Soren agreed.
"Indeed. They do not truly comprehend the enemy closing in from the shadows, even as we speak," Tantalus said. "While it is true that our undertaking is not without danger, it is necessary. But we cannot expect our future allies to see that… at least, not until it is too late."
"Tantalus, are you certain you can control Extinction?" Morgan asked, choosing her words carefully and feigning a bit of hesitation. It was a bit of a risk hinting at her doubts, but if Tantalus was as paranoid as Morgan suspected him to be, the former Redeemer would indubitably find perfect compliance even more suspicious.
"I am positive," Tantalus promised. "But I'm afraid time is running out."
"Then we should carry on with your plan, quickly," Lionel said, speaking up for the first time since returning to Tantalus's hideout. "What do you need us to do next?"
Tantalus flashed them a crooked smile. "I'm afraid this is where things may get a little… tedious," he admitted.