Chapter 12
The silence before a battle was more often more nerve-wrecking than the combat itself. The rebellious army readied themselves for the final throw of the dice. If they failed now, with so much advantages in their favor, they would never overthrow the devil king. They sharpened their weapons, prepared their gear, and relayed the plan. For King Marth's army, continued their training under Sir Ike's watchful eyes. Every day they patrolled the battlements, searching for upcoming signs of the Faire army. Though trained soldiers, they didn't have the innate sense of the final battle. That feeling seemed to be privy to only the three childhood friends. At least one of them was going to die today.
The Faire army finally made their move in the evening. Sir Ike himself was patrolling the archways when a gleam caught his eyes from the far distance. A few soldiers also squinted in the distance to examine the glazing light, calling warnings to their comrades below. Sir Ike held up a hand to quiet his men. He peered into the distance. Only the flicker of metal greeted him. Then, as if led by an unknown hand, a line of soldiers rose in the distance. Cries of alarm rang at the sudden sight of soldiers.
"Hold your positions!" Sir Ike ordered. He turned to Captain Falcon. "I'm going to inform His Majesty. Don't go charging towards them. Defend the castle." The captain nodded and saluted his understanding. Sir Ike returned the gesture before hurrying down the archways to King Marth's throne room. Soldiers hurried around him, frantically preparing themselves for the battle ahead. The warlord ignored them and the servants scurrying around. It didn't take him long to reach his destination. He opened the doors to see King Marth sitting in his throne with his eyes closed. The king's eyes immediately flew open at the sound.
"What is it, Sir Ike?" he asked softly. The warlord walked briskly to the base of the throne. He found himself wondering why his king sat here alone when he never left Dark Pit's side for long. Falling to one knee in a bow, he answered:
"The Faire army is here, Your Majesty."
"Is that so?" Sir Ike looked up. He started in surprise at the slight exhaustion on the king's face. King Marth stood up from his throne. "Let them come."
"Your Majesty?" the warlord widened his eyes in astonishment. "But…"
"It's too late now, Ike," King Marth said tiredly. "The final battle will soon close. They have won." Sir Ike felt a flame of anger flare in his chest. He stood up and took a step towards the king.
"You don't know that, Your Majesty! We can still hold them off! The fight isn't over until it's over! Fate can be extremely fickle in the tides of war!"
"Fate isn't as nearly as fickle this time, Ike. Destiny has set its last stone."
It took almost all of Sir Ike's discipline to resist punching his king. His neglect the past days were bad enough, but now, when his leadership was needed the most, King Marth refused. It infuriated the warlord how his king gave up without even trying. It almost made him want to rebel himself.
However his loyalty reasserted itself. He glared at his lord, something he wouldn't dare to do days earlier. "If you won't fight, I will," he said quietly. King Marth didn't respond, even when Sir Ike turned sharply and stormed away. He closed his eyes again. He didn't know how he knew, but around this time, the real assault would begin.
Sir Ike rushed out of the throne room to see servants fleeing and screaming. He heard the clash of weapons just outside, and his heart sank. Wind whooshed dangerously close, and Sir Ike knew that the Faire army had air power. Burning flames followed a mighty roar as a large, orange AlBaest swept through the area. He quickly moved to his original position, seeing how the line of soldiers had marched closer in his absence. Movement in the sky caught his eye, prompting him to look up. Sir Ike gritted his teeth at the airborne soldiers. A white-winged Faire led them on, pointing his golden bow at the castle. The warlord blinked in surprise when he saw how similar that white Faire was to Dark Pit.
"Centurions! Move out!" Pit yelled. His soldiers yelled their battle cries as they swooped and dived. Sir Ike's men retaliated with their own crossbows. Others simply cut away the arrows the Faires shot. Sir Ike realized that while the Faire attacked from the air, the soldiers below began crossing the moat to scale the walls. His soldiers were hard-pressed, and he wasn't sure how long they could hold them off.
"Keep watch of those Faires! Shoot them down! You men, stop their process! Do not let even a single AlBaest inside!" Sir Ike commanded. A few acknowledged his orders as others rushed to obey them. The warlord watched their process for a moment before moving to other archways. Even though it seemed as if the main assault was on that side, Sir Ike couldn't be too sure. The Faires might have planned something to deceive him and draw his attention away from the main attack.
As he checked their weapons and ammunition, a strange movement caught his eye. Sir Ike looked to it, his heart dropping. He grabbed a crossbow from a soldier and closed one eye. His sight locked onto two soldiers who tried to open the large gate of the castle entrance. He slowed his breathing and pulled the trigger. Although he trained little with the crossbow, Sir Ike managed to hit the forearm of one of the soldiers. He shrieked in pain and fell away, alerting his comrade that somebody knew of their betrayal. He looked up and saw Sir Ike reload another bolt for the crossbow. The traitor sped up his cutting of the ropes. He heard the hiss of the crossbow and felt a searing pain in his arm. He reeled away but smiled in triumph as the drawbridge fell rapidly to connect the moat to the town.
From his vantage point, Sir Ike saw that he was too late. He could hear the battle cries as soldiers from the Faire army rushed from the town to stream into the castle. So that was their plan! While most of the army distracted the defenders to the south wall, the main force hid in the town and waited until the bridge was down. Once that happened, the Faire army would assault the castle right at the entrance! In his heart, Sir Ike knew that Roy had planned this from the very beginning. Only he would be able to convince the townspeople to cooperate. He found many of soldiers rushing from the courtyard towards the south wall. "Stand your positions!" Sir Ike bellowed. The soldiers looked up at their commander in surprise. Then they heard the drumming of the enemy soldiers. Lead by an orange-armored hunter, the Faire army stormed the castle. Already, many soldiers got caught in the rage of the battle. Humans, Faires, and AlBaests fell from both sides. It was hard-pressed for the two armies, and they struggled against each other, trying to turn the tide to their favor.
Sir Ike knew that he wouldn't be able to get down in time the usual way. He leaped off the archway. After falling a few meters, he stabbed his sword into the stone wall to slow his descent. At the right moment, he kicked away, landing in the courtyard soundly. All around him, he heard steel ringing and clashing. A blue-armored Faire threw a metallic disk at him. Gripping Ragnell with both hands, he deflected the disk away. The Faire underestimated the warlord's speed, and Sir Ike neatly slashed at him. The Faire reared away, clutching the wound across his chest. Paying that Faire no more attention, Sir Ike continued to hack his way through, giving support to his men when needed. Even when slashed himself, he didn't seem to feel the pain. He looked through the fighting soldiers, searching. Their eyes met at the same time, prompting them to stop despite their battling comrades. Sir Ike gripped his sword tightly before throwing out an overhead cut.
Roy blocked it with his own blade. The heaviness known as Ragnell jarred his arms. The traitor gathered his strength and shoved the sword away. It barely caught the warlord off guard. Roy quickly retaliated with his own side cut. Sir Ike simply deflected it away, leaving Roy open to another of his strikes. Again, steel rang against steel. Yet the sparks that flew differed from the ones that flew in the earlier exchange.
Sir Ike narrowed his eyes when the white "Dark Pit" exhaled heavily, his arms trembling from the force. "Pit!" he heard Roy say in surprise.
"Go find King Marth! I got this!" Pit said in reply. Roy hesitated before nodding his consent. Sir Ike saw an apologetic look in his eyes before the traitor dashed into the clashing swords.
"No!" Sir Ike shoved the Faire away. He moved to chase after Roy. He took one step before a blue arrow shot his way. With his reflexes, he sidestepped it. The Human glared at Pit. "I don't want to fight you."
"Well, I do!" Pit yelled. He detached his bow, swiping the air with his twin blades. Sir Ike gritted his teeth in anger at the distraction. He didn't want any interruptions as any delay would give Roy the slip, resulting in his king's death. Knowing he had no choice, he readied his weapon. Pit made the first move. He dashed in, blades searching for flesh. Sir Ike held his sword out, catching both blades before they could reach him. Pit felt the warlord's immense strength through his weapons. Knowing that he would immediately lose in a contest of power, the Faire retreated to quickly strike the side. Sir Ike reacted with another timely block. He thought to himself bitterly that his two old friends would finally be able to settle their trial.
King Marth ignored the conflicting of weapons that resounded through his castle. He walked through the empty halls. He instinctively knew that most of his servants already fled the castle for their lives. The king didn't care. So long as Dark Pit was safe, he didn't care. At the mere thought of the Faire, Marth sped up his pace. If today was to be his last, then he wanted to end it with Dark Pit. He couldn't stand to not be with him. The king initially thought that if he didn't see Dark Pit, dying might be a little easier. That was certainly not the case. He had to see Dark Pit. He just had to.
As King Marth hurried through the halls, an enemy soldier saw him. Calling to his comrades, he raced to cut the devil king off. He raised his sword to cut.
And found that his hands had been chopped off. The pain registered and he screamed in agony. King Marth stared coldly at the soldier before kicking him down. He looked at the soldier's comrades, who returned a glare. King Marth smiled softly when he saw a hint of fear in their eyes. They saw first-handed how deadly the devil king was with the sword; their comrade was cut down in seconds. One, either foolish or brave, stepped forward with his sword and shield. King Marth's sword magically avoided the raised shield and bit into the Faire's chest. The soldier was dead before he hit the ground. Before the others could react, blood spurted from unknown wounds. They fell forward, barely registering their deaths. King Marth ignored the fallen bodies and continued forward, taking no notice of pained twitches when he stepped on their bodies. These soldiers have already wasted his time enough. He had to get to Dark Pit before anyone else did.
Marth finally reached his room. Alarmed that the door was opened, he dashed inside. A pale man resembling Marth's old servant turned around at the sound. He brought his sword up defensively, his other hand attempting to shield Dark Pit from the devil king.
"Get behind me, Dark Pit!" the soldier said.
"Wait!" Dark Pit cried, holding a hand out. However, his warning came too late. Marth's eyes narrowed at the sight of his love being with another man. His jealousy manifesting, Marth dashed forward, his sword starving for blood. The soldier flinched from the insane bloodlust that poured from the devil king's body. The king erupted into multiple sword strikes, each coming from different angles. The Faire soldier attempted to block all. Many found their marks, and as he held up his sword to block an overhead cut, Marth reversed the grip and thrusted forward. His sword dug into the man's chest, killing him instantly. The man's showed surprised as his eyes glazed over. The man coughed up blood, falling to his knees. He fell forward, the carpet now red and still soaking with his blood. Dark Pit covered his mouth in horror.
"M-Marth?!" Dark Pit's voice croaked out. Marth ignored his call, panting heavily. He glared at the corpse. Taking the leg, he yanked it upward and out the door. A dull splat could be heard as he closed the door. Before Dark Pit could say anything else, Marth rushed to his side on the bed. The Faire winced slightly in pain when the king clutched his shoulders tightly.
"What did he do to you?! Tell me!" Marth's eyes hysterically searched Dark Pit's body for any signs of injury. His hands searched for an unseen, open wound.
"Marth! Marth! Stop, Marth!" Dark Pit grabbed Marth's wrists and pulled it away from him. His touch seemed to calm the king down, his wild eyes returning to their loving blue. Dark Pit saw the blood stains on the king's clothes but ignored them. He only focused on Marth's haunted eyes and trembling lips. He waited until the king seemed to have calmed down considerably before replying, "He didn't do anything to me, Marth."
"Are you certain?"
"I'm sure," Dark Pit said. Marth breathed an audible sigh of relief. His body relaxing, he stroked Dark Pit's cheeks in his familiar way. He could feel the tears prickling behind his eyes.
"I thought I might have lost you…" Dark Pit heard the sadness in the king's voice. Not knowing what else to do, he hugged Marth. The king returned the embrace tightly. Although the sounds of weaponry rang in Dark Pit's ears, he knew better than to ask about it. After what that soldier told him, he knew exactly what was going on. What he didn't understand was why Marth left his side today of all days. They stayed like that, enjoying the security the other gave. Marth finally relinquished his embrace. He sighed deeply before standing up and moving over to the desk. He placed his hands on it, leaning against it. Dark Pit could tell he was thinking. Of what, he wasn't sure. After a moment of silence, Marth spoke, "That man…he was telling you to go with him, didn't he?"
"What?"
"He told you to escape, didn't he?" Marth asked.
"M-Marth, how did you-?"
"I guessed…" he said bitterly. "I knew it was bound to happen. Even when I drove away everyone, they still came back to get you…even when I already declared you as my own…I should have known that nothing would stop anyone from taking you away from me…" Although Dark Pit understood what the king was saying, somehow, he couldn't understand at the same time. He knew that there was a deeper meaning behind the king's words despite their simplicity. He saw Marth's shoulders trembling. However, Dark Pit couldn't see his eyes, preventing him from gauging the king's true mood.
"Marth?" No answer. The anxiety grew in Dark Pit. Never had Marth ever displayed these emotions in front of him. His heart urged him to call to the king again. He couldn't stand to see Marth like this.
"Marth?!" He thought to how close he was to losing Dark Pit again. The soldier's face turned to Ganondorf's. Ganondorf's face turned to that old advisor's. Marth clenched his fist tightly at the old memory. A small drop of sweat slid down his neck. He relived the despair that claimed his mother and almost claimed his sweet, little Dark Pit.
"Marth!" No, he couldn't risk it again. He didn't want to face that same despair again in death. He knew that once he accepted his fate, Dark Pit would be lost to him forever. He wouldn't be his anymore. His eyes twitched slightly, and something in Marth shattered.
"Marth!"
Marth continued to stare at the table he hung over. Suddenly, the king's head snapped up, startling the black angel. He looked over at the Faire. Dark Pit had never seen that crazy look in Marth's eyes before. King Marth's mouth parted into a lunatic smile as quick footsteps brought him over to the bed where Dark Pit lay. His normally gentle hands shot out with shocking speed and wrapped his fingers around the angel's neck. Dark Pit gasped, his eyes budging in surprise and fear. Too late he tried to wiggle his fingers underneath the king's only to fail miserably.
King Marth began to laugh. Not the gentle laugh of teasing Dark Pit. It was the laugh of the broken, of one who had given up. His mad, blue eyes relished the sight of choking his lover before him. "If I die here, I'll make sure nobody can have you, Dark Pit! You are mine, and mine alone! You will accompany me to Hell! Join me, Dark Pit, where we rightfully belong! My sins are enough to drag both of us down! Be with me for all eternity!" his crazed laugh drowned the clash of weapons outside his chambers.
Dark Pit struggled with all his might. But a prisoner simply couldn't overpower a king. His eyes clouded as his breathing almost closed to a stop. He could barely see King Marth's face anymore. The thought of not seeing Marth brought tears to Dark Pit's eyes. He didn't want this. He didn't want to die. He didn't want Marth to die either! He just didn't! Even after all that torture, King Marth still managed…! The tears dripped down with each shake. Dark Pit suddenly found himself looking through a dark tunnel, the small circle of light reflecting Marth's image. The pain dulled and drummed his mind, driving him away. Lightheaded, the Faire felt an irresistible urge to close his eyes and sleep forever, forget about everything that happened and everything that he regretted.
The vice-like grip loosened around his neck. His mind reacted instinctively and Dark Pit gasped a lungful of air. His chest rising and falling hysterically, the angel tried to get a bearing of his surroundings. His eyes meet a shocking sight.
King Marth was no longer smiling and laughing eccentrically. Instead, his expression reflected something that Dark Pit never thought he would ever see: fear. A small stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Dark Pit could only stare in horror as Marth's distress was replaced with a sorrowful smile. The king reached to caress his lover's cheek with a trembling hand. The angel couldn't help but flinch in surprise, causing the sadness to fade the king's smile slightly.
"I'm…sorry...my sweet, little Dark Pit…I…love you," Marth leaned forward a bit more to kiss Dark Pit one last time. But his spirit failed him and the king fell, his head resting on the angel's lap. Dark Pit stared transfixed by the sword stabbed through Marth's back, straight to his heart. His eyes looked down to the fallen. He trembled as his hands went to cup his love's face. The warmth, the luxury, the safety that the angel was used to feeling was gone. Marth was gone. Dark Pit's vision blurred as he cried like a wounded animal. Great sobs racked his entire body. He leaned forward to touch his forehead to Marth's. His tears did nothing to bring him back as they dripped down the now-serene face. At the spur of the moment, Dark Pit eagerly pressed his lips against Marth's. They felt cold, as Marth had been before the ice broke between them. Dark Pit didn't want to let him go. Even though Marth was finally gone…Dark Pit couldn't leave him. He wanted to stay like this forever.
Roy lowered his trembling hands. King Marth's demented laughter resonating in his mind. He breathed a sigh of relief that he had made it just in time. When he arrived, he saw the king strangling Dark Pit. Fearing that he would be too late to run to the Faire's rescue, the traitor did the only thing he could think of, hurling his sword right at King Marth. The moment he saw the strength leave King Marth's arms, he knew it was over. He thanked the gods for his accurate aim. Had it not been that, another life would have been lost to the hands of the devil king. Their long struggle against him was finally over. And yet…it pained him to see Dark Pit's sorrow. He saw that even though King Marth had been as evil as can be, Marth still managed to love and earn another's love in the end. It almost made him human…seeing Dark Pit's grief, Roy's heart almost tore in two at the thought that he had taken the life of a person the Faire loved deeply, for the sake of others. Was it selfish of him to do so? It was difficult to judge. Whatever the moral ground, the deed had been done. He blinked away the tears as he realized that his old friend, a friend that's been with him since they were kids, a friend that finally showed his true old self to Dark Pit, was dead.
The traitor turned to leave the former prisoner to his mourning. His metal boots clicked loudly in the halls as he made his way towards the balcony. Once he reached it, he gazed outward to the soldiers below. At the sight of the traitor, the fighting slowed to a stop, as if by an unspoken agreement. One couldn't explain why. The air surrounding the redhead had something that instantly silenced everyone and implored them to listen. A note of finality surrounded them. The enemy army knew that something must have had happened to their king if the redhead was standing there. Everyone looked up expectedly as he leaned forward to rest his hands on the stone rails. Roy waited for the murmurs to die down before announcing:
"My comrades…the devil King Marth…is dead!"
A stunned silence. Then the Faire army erupted into a loud roar. Soldiers patted each other on the back, some even hugging in sheer happiness. Surprisingly, many of King Marth's soldiers joined in the celebration. They dropped their arms in a sign of surrender and peace, the opposing army accepting them gratefully. Some, more ruthless and seeing a chance to attack, were subdued immediately, but it was mostly a joyous event. Roy smiled at his hard-working army. They didn't need to know the thoughts running in the redhead's mind. They should continue to live without worrying about the devil king ever again.
Only Sir Ike saw the slight sadness in Roy's smile. He stared in stunned silence. His legs failing him, he fell to his knees. Although he couldn't believe, he felt as if some part of him left, signaling the king's death. Although an empty void filled him, Sir Ike felt as if invisible chains unlocked themselves and freed him from King Marth's influence. The sudden image of Marth, the old Marth, his friend, smiling at him was the final count. Their eyes met, and Sir Ike nodded his understanding. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. Suddenly, a hand extended to him. Sir Ike looked up to see Pit. A small smile graced the Faire's face. Although Pit didn't say anything, Sir Ike understood completely. Pit knew from Roy. He understood the conflicting feelings the warlord had. Although he slightly scorned Sir Ike for not joining them, he respected him for the deep loyalty he showed time and time again. The warlord returned a sorrowful, yet relieved smile. He took the hand, and Pit pulled him back to his feet. All around them, the soldiers chanted mockingly in victory:
"King Marth is dead! Long live the king! Long live the king! King Marth is dead! Long live the king! Long live the king!"
