Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem

Chapter 12: Death

Nathan was lost in a raging sea of thought, as he strode through the courtyard of the newly taken Gallian castle. This was castle Ishmar, the source of the day's previous attack. They had chased down the fleeing Gallians back to their base, where they finished off every sub-human they saw. Now the base was theirs, a powerful, well-placed attack point for their assault on the Gallian capital.

He sighed and looked up into a clear night sky. He had fought in a battle, survived, and even made his first kill. He had served his country, and fought with honor befitting that of a knight. And, for the first time in his life, he had been a part of something that would go down into the history of Daein. A something that would lift the dark cloak of shame on his family, something that could restore its glory.

So then, why did he feel this way?

Why did he feel as if he had done nothing? Why did he feel as if he failed?

But he knew why, it had been there in the back of his mind. From the moment his magic tasted blood he knew that this would not be his path to honor and glory. His would be a different way, not paved with the blood of his enemies, but created with the power that fate had now endowed upon him.

He clutched the oracle stone in a balled fist, his new path to glory.

'Yes' he thought as he gazed upon the crystal in his hand, 'this will be the way'

It was the last thought he ever had.

The Black Knight looked down on the bleeding body that was once his servant. Of course, it was easy enough to dispatch of the boy. He was too weak, he could have never held his own in an actual battle. With all the commotion, the killing, the death all around you. It's enough to suffocate even the most hardened of warriors, not including himself of course. The boy would have never lasted two seconds.

But he was what he was, just like his father, and his entire weakling family. He regretted not being there to see the look on their faces when they hear that their son was slain by him, his master. Regretted to miss seeing the sadness, the pain, the anger. Perhaps he should deliver the message himself, after all what could any of them do about it?

He looked into the palm of his hand, there, emitting a sort of rainbow like aura, was the source of the boy's power. If there were anything the Black Knight would have thanked him for, it would be bringing such a marvelous power to him.

He scoffed and walked away.

He came to a small lake overshadowed by a willow tree, the nightlife still active around it.

He covered the stone in a balled fist and began concentrating all of the energy in his armor to activate the stone.

'So much energy' he thought, 'how was the boy able to do it without exhausting himself?'

The Black Knight was becoming very tired; his fist shone a faded light blue.

Suddenly, words appeared in his mind. There were many, soon they were voiced out. There was a constant torrent of chants and sayings in all different kinds of languages; it was almost enough to drown the mind. But the Black Knight knew that this meant that it must be working, his fist trembled as he forced more power into the ancient relic.

And suddenly, there was no lake, and there was no tree, and it was no longer night. The Black Knight stood in the center of a field of sunflowers, gently swaying in the breeze. He looked form left to right, only seeing the long stalks of the plants reaching to the heavens.

'What manner of vision is this?' he thought.

Maybe the all he had to do was make his way through the field. He reached for Alondite, intending to chop down every one of these infernal plants. His hand reached the hilt; he drew it from his sheath.

And held in his left hand, a small workers knife.

'What in the name of the goddess…' he thought, as he realized something else. He looked at the hand that held the knife, and saw, for the first time in nearly thirty years, the color of flesh instead of metal.

"What is this?" he asked himself out loud before he realized his voice was different. It sounded like that of a young boy's, but that was impossible.

He looked around and saw a puddle. He hastily waked toward it, half expecting to see a man covered form head to toe in black armor.

What he saw instead, was a boy with black hair and eyes starring back. He wore a white workers shirt and pants, and he held a knife in his left hand.

The Black Knight stumbled away form the water, real shock crossed his face for the first time since he was a child.

And he was that child again.

"What is going on?" he asked himself, "have I been deceived?"

"Hey! Where are you?" called a voice.

The Black Knight turned; he could hear the sound of the flowers being pushed out of the way. This person, if it was a person, could maybe provide some answers. He tightened his grip on the knife, it was no Alondite but it would have to do.

"Hey! Can you hear me!" called the voice again.

He could tell by the shrillness of it that it was female, a girl's, that would perhaps make it easier for him to extract the information he needed from her.

"I'm goanna find you!" called the voice, "You can't hide from me!"

He could imagine the girl bursting out of the flowers; he would knock her to the ground and put the knife to her throat. He could almost see the fear in her eyes as he asked her about this entire accused place.

"I'm coming!" the voice called

That voice… he could not be sure, but it sounded like he had heard it before.

"Gotcha!" said the girl, as she jumped out of the forest of stalks.

The Black Knight dropped the knife, his eyes wide with shock.

There standing before him, was a girl. She had blue eyes and golden hair; she was dressed up in a pink dress most suited for an outing into a town.

"M-Melanie?"

"Yeah, who'd ya expect? Gawain?"

That could not be…it was impossible…wasn't it?

"I-Is that really you, Melanie?"

"No" the girl replied, "I'm a cow dressed up as Melanie, and am using my mind powers to make me look like Melanie to you. While the real Melanie is back at the barn, naked on all fours grazing on wheat."

The girl, expecting him to laugh, only got a blank stare as a reply.

She laughed a little, "I'm kidding! Of course I'm Melanie, who else would I be?"

The boy still stared blankly at her.

"Hey are you okay?" she asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost"

The boy was stupefied

"Ooohoho, I get it," said the girl, "you're just playing dumb because I smoked you in the race back to the house."

He could not believe it. It was her, Melanie, stand in front of him alive and as energetic as ever. This was a vision, it had to be, a cruel trick of fate.

"Melanie" he said

"Yeah"

"Take my hand," he said as he stretched his hand out.

"Why?" she asked

"Please, just do it"

She reached out and took it, and it held.

The boy's eyes widened with surprise, not from the fact that none of this was a vision, but because it had been so long since he felt the touch of another living being.

Melanie took his hand into both of hers, the softness of her touch bringing the boy to tears.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Sobbing, he embraced her. He could feel her body stiffen from the suddenness of it all.

"I-I've missed you so much" he said in between sobs, "I can't-I can't believe it's really you Melanie!"

He felt her arms wrap around him, "It's okay, it's okay"

"It-it's been so long"

They stayed like that for a few moments, before they finally let go.

"You better now?" she asked

"Yes" he said, wiping his face.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," she said

For the first time in an eternity, the boy smiled.

They began to walk home, after a few seconds Melanie cried out: "race ya!" and took off.

The boy followed suite, laughing as he chased his childhood friend. It was not a vision! It was all real; she was real! She was alive! It did not matter how it happened, it just did. And now he could make things right, He could make it so that she never died, so that none of them ever died. He could make it so that they would live happily, and he would never have to seek the armor or the swords. He would never become the cold-hearted killer that was the Black Knight, he would be damned if he ever held a sword again! He, she, all of them, would live in a life of happiness.

He stumbled as he came out into a clearing; his laugh stifled itself.

A figure incased from head to toe in black armor stood before him, his crimson cape flapping in the breeze.

The boy took a step back, 'No' he thought, 'no'

Melanie stood before it.

"Melanie, run!" he yelled.

She would not move

"Melanie!" he tried again

The figure unsheathed Alondite

"No, Melanie!" he tried to run, but his feet refused to move.

The figure brought the sword above his head.

"Melanie!"

The blade came down

"NOOOOO!"

He woke

And standing in the middle of a frozen lake, was a figure wrapped in robes that trailed at its feet like a black mist.

The Black Knight glared at it with burning hatred as he unsheathed Alondite.

The figure raised a hand as black as it's robes, it pointed a finger at him.

You killed her said the voice.

A hand rose up from the ground a few feet from it. A head, then a body, followed the hand. It was the body of a Gallian solider, the last one the Black Knight had killed. It advanced toward him; the Black Knight cleaved it in half with one stroke of his sword.

An image flashed in his mind, an old wooden cross in the midst of a dead field.

He blinked it off; more of them were coming. Not only bodies of Gallians that had died during the previous battle, but of civilians, soldiers both Crimean and Daein, and others he did not recognize.

He swung his sword and killed another, an image flashed again. This was one of an entire village set a flame. He blinked it back as he took another body's head off. Another image, one of a burning boat.

You killed them

"No!" he yelled as the living dead surrounded him, chanting the three accursed words. He slash back at them, more images flooded his mind. A field of sunflowers burning, bodies freshly killed and bleeding upon the stone ground, a swarm of ravens, a woman lying in a pool of her own blood on the deck of a ship, a girl smiling at him, her nightgown stained red and fire all around her…

He slashes became more frantic and less precise. They surrounded him; he felt one jump onto his back. They pulled him down, his grip on Alondite loosened. More and more images burned in his mind, a burning cross, the flash of a sword, screaming, blood spilling, death, destruction, burning, burning, burning…

Then, darkness


The Black Knight woke to find himself on the bank of a pond; there was a searing pain in his hand. It had been a long time since he had felt pain. He got up, embedded in the soft mud was Alondite. It came to his hand; he transferred it to the other. He inspected his left hand; there was a hole in his armor covered in blood. It had been a long time since he saw himself bleed.

It had been a long time since he felt so many things. Pain, anger, joy, sadness, fear, when was the last time he laughed? The last time he cried? It was as if he was no longer human.

Then he remembered, he was no longer human. Only humans feel emotions.

"It was all a vision" he said to himself, "it wasn't real"

But it had felt so; he felt so many things.

Melanie…

He walked away, the image of the girl still in his mind. So alive, so real…

He did not even realize the power that showed him all this, the stone, was gone.