...I got quite a few requests to update this fic while finishing up Robin for Exalt. I wanted to get at least one chapter out before Shadows of Valentia releases in The States next week-because lets be honest-I'm not doing any writing for a while once that happens. (ohhhhhhh Fire Emblem. Where free-time goes to die)
For new readers; I hope you make it this far.
For old ones; thanks for sticking with me. You know the drill. Feed me R&R's, and I'll feed you more stories.
Final Lesson: Passing it On
"Oh no you don't!" Linus came upon another room too deceptively peaceful to be what it appeared to be, on full alert for concealed death-traps. This time he did not let the broken piping out of his sight. This time his shield was up-and-ready when the poison dart shot out; his throwing axe firmly lodged in a soft target before the offending kobold could skitter away.
"…Mine..." Legault claimed the dropped blowgun as his own, advancing stealthily. And when next he encountered a pack of ogres—superhuman in size and power and savagery and capable of easily smashing even an Oswin or a Marcus to bloody bits—prudent use of the weapon and careful concealment took out the whole lot of them before they could so much as raise a bludgeoning club.
"Fuck OFF." Lloyd imbued fire magic into his sword and lobbed a hydra's head clean off—cauterizing the neck stump on-the-swing so as to prevent it from sprouting more heads.
They were well enough prepared now. Familiar with the strange forms and abilities of the monsters arrayed against them, practiced in the various ways of dispatching them, and appropriately armed with such equipment and experience that previously insurmountable foes could no longer best them in battle.
"Escape route secured. For now." Jaffar reported in, with Nino in tow. "A mysterious force kept warping in new foes. I cannot guarantee it will stay as empty as I left it."
"Jaffar. What happened to your cloak?" Lloyd noticed something wasn't quite right with it. It wasn't flowing with his steps. It was dragging heavily, as though being weighed down by a rock.
"Hmmmm?" Jaffar hadn't noticed.
"Good god man! How can you walk!?" Legault attempted to lift it. He might as well have been trying to lift an ogre's maul.
"…I did feel a bit off in that last fight…"
"Cursed." Linus confirmed. For he had unstopped a flask of holy water (somewhere it occurred to them that instead of constantly running back to fountains they could bottle the stuff) and splashed it on Jaffar's cloak, and with that, it returned to its normal weight. "Random curses and monsters warping in out of nowhere. Lloyd. Doesn't that sound like…"
"…a Lich." Lloyd's sword was out—his eyes darting—searching. Frantically searching. They teleported and wielded invisibility spells—it could be anywhere.
"…"
"…"
"…"
"GET DOWN!" Linus grabbed his brother and threw him to the ground—an inky-black wave of sorcery and necropotence passing overhead. Mushrooms and lichens growing out of the dungeon walls turned to shriveled rotting things where it passed.
With incredible strides it loomed—a visage that more than time or worms had wasted—broken swathings flapping about skeletal legs. With one preternatural lunge the lich closed the distance between them. And from out the folds of its tattered robe one gaunt, fleshless arm rose.
There was a flash of light. Then a sudden chill. Then Linus had just enough time to shout "Not another bullshit-death!" before the Brothers Reed were frozen solid.
"Nino. Stay back." Jaffar instructed. "Legault. You hit it high. I'll hit it low." Jaffar rushed in crouching, slashing furiously at the hovering legs of the thing. Legault leapt to a vantage point and let loose with a barrage of throwing knives.
Nino sat back watching, with a curious look about her, saying nothing.
Jaffar's blade disintegrated before the Lich's legs gave out. Legault fell to ground, lanced by an icicle spear. And when Jaffar attempted to flip-kick away, a force bolt struck him midair and sent him caterwauling.
Nino blinked.
The Lich raised an army of ghouls and goblins and many nasty things. Jaffar and Legault were surrounded and overwhelmed.
Nino made her approach.
"Run." Jaffar ordered.
Nino did no such thing.
"I can't protect you. RUN!"
Nino regarded the Lich with childlike-wonder.
"I'll keep you safe. I swear; when we get back to Elibe, I'll keep you safe. But right now you need to…"
Nino's magic flared. Goblins and ghouls and many nasty things started bursting into flames. And the lich became dust.
"So Nino's stronger then all of us now." Legault reported in at the reliquary. "That happened."
"There is no logic in this place." Jaffar was salty.
"She killed the lich?" this was not the first time Lloyd had fallen to one. They were insanely hard to kill.
"She killed the lich. Learned a spell that rains giant fuck-off energy swords; don't ask me how. Took out an entire castle garrison. Killed a dragon. Made it to the hellzone—that place is a madhouse. Last I saw? Back-against-the-wall and mobbed by screaming demons." Legault gave his account.
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"She's not dying." Lloyd observed, after an appreciable length of time.
"…Do we…" Linus was at a loss. "Do we go back in?"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"You know what; I think I'm about ready to call it quits." Legault caught sight of Mark and Lyndis sparring at their newly-achieved levels. Or rather; the blurred outlines and explosive terrain damage of Mark and Lyndis sparring at their newly achieved levels. "If this is the direction things are going, I really don't feel like we have anything to contribute to this fight."
The grandmasters old and new came to the briefest of standstills—bashing forearm striking bashing forearm, competing movements cancelled out on-the-clash—and the Fangs saw in that moment they weren't even wielding weapons.
Lyn threw more power into her form and pushed forward. But Mark did not so much push back as slide across the length of her arm and reposition his leverage—clashing forearm flowing into deflecting palm. Lyn's guard opened, Mark's free hand shot upward, and an uppercut clipped Lyn's jaw. But at that moment Mark was completely open, and Lyn landed a solid knee-to-the-gut.
Both pulled back; winded and visibly battered. Lyn drew her sword. Mark cloaked himself in black magic. With a skip and a warp spell he was above her, kicking downward, and where he missed and struck the ground, he struck with such force as to open a fissure. Then they were again moving in an unseeable blur.
"Mother of God." Lloyd had no words.
"You fought that guy?" Linus asked of Jaffar in disbelief.
"I lost." Jaffar admitted. He didn't get into the how and why of it. "Badly."
Previously, on the Dread Isle
"You mustn't fight that man!"Lord Elbert warned Eliwood and friends.
"Listen to your father boy. You there—Assassin. You move well. Who taught you how to fight?"The man Jaffar would come to know as Mark addressed him.
In lieu of an answer, Jaffar attacked. Mark spanked him like a petulant child.
"Hah!" Mark powered down, healed up, and allowed himself a moment of levity. Lyn had matched him evenly in swordplay and martial arts. It was not until he mixed sorcery into his attack pattern that he had been able to put her down.
"She did it!" Florina cheered.
"Hey Hector! How about that rematch with Lyn?" Eliwood poked fun at him.
"Fucccccckkkkkkkkk. You." Hector grumbled. He had JUST mastered Ignis. So sure he had been that he was on the cusp of reclaiming his title as the strongman of the trio. Then…this...
"So Limit Break really makes you that much Faster? Stronger? Smarter?" Rebecca was in complete awe of it.
"...Not exactly…" Mark explained. "Limit Break is simply the capacity to hone these attributes further, after capping out at the ordinary limits of the peak-human performance. The skill does not itself confer above-peak-human abilities, but rather, the ability to acquire them through further experience and training. Beyond the point where one would otherwise plateau, at the limit of human potential."
"Wait—I'm confused. You said to reach Limit Break, we had to enter The Dungeon and retrieve The Scroll." Raven was the first to realize that Mark hadn't been completely forthright. "Let me guess—there is no scroll. This is one of those the power you gain is from the challenges you overcome along the way deals."
"The Scroll is a worthless piece of paper that says CONGRATULATIONS: You've managed to avoid dying." Mark did not deny it.
"That's some rainbow-sage-mountain-climbing level bullshit." Raven felt cheated.
"It works." It was perhaps a tad bit cheesy, but Mark couldn't argue with results.
"It's a stupid, lazy cliché." Raven insisted.
"And a cliché is something overused to the point of irritation. But if a cliché is overused it is because there is a ray of truth behind it. Such as—practice makes perfect. Or actions speak louder than words."
"So literally the only reason we're here is so that we can die over-and-over again. For TRAINING!?" Hector was suddenly in a very foul mood.
"Well when you say it like that, I sound like a mean-spirited bastard." Mark feigned indignation.
"The method is crude, but effective." Lyn finished healing and rejoined the group. She was changing. Maybe it was the beginnings of intellect beyond the limit of ordinary intellect taking hold of her, or maybe if you idolize a man enough you eventually become him. But whatever the reason everything about her—her speech, her stride, her way of looking at the world—it was slowly becoming more and more Mark-like. "I've…noticed something though. A flaw in Mark's technique."
"Oh?" Mark cocked an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"
"There's nothing special about it." Lyndis challenged.
"Come again?" Eliwood must have misheard.
"Are you on drugs!?" Raven laughed.
"Ohhhhhhh…this ought to be good…" Hector took a seat.
"It isn't noticeable when you're so far beneath him that everything he does just seems—flawless. As you approach his level, you see it." Lyn had seen it. "Mark's fighting style is very much jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none. He trains every attribute and learns every craft. And when an opponent isn't near his level this works very well for him; he has an answer for everything. Control in any situation. The cost of studying EVERYTHING is lack of specialization. If an opponent at Mark's level were to train only in magic, he would have superior magic. If an opponent at Mark's level were to train only in swordplay, he would have superior swordplay. That is why even at my level I matched his blade, and he needed his magic to beat me. Now supposing an opponent were to stand at his level. TRULY at his level. Focused only on swordsmanship and speed…"
"…my only hope would be to make a strategic play for distance. Spam suppressive fire, defensively use my warp spells, and pray-to-god my opponent isn't quick enough to get into melee range before taking a few thunderbolts." Mark cracked a smile. It was true. "We will leave this Outrealm soon. I believe we have accomplished what we set out to accomplish. Join the others in The Dungeon and continue training if you wish—you may yet leave the wiser for it—but I will not demand it of you. That is all." Mark dismissed his elites.
Most of his elites.
"Lyndis…a moment…" Mark bid her stay.
"Is this the part where you lecture me on the dangers of over-specialization." Lyn teased.
"From here-on-out, you make your own path. I can only offer some final thoughts. You have wind affinity. I would advise that you refrain from using your sword against any foe, except those of such power as to force you to do so. That you instead fight with only the lowest level wind magic. Attack with it. Defend with it. Rely upon it to protect your loved ones and kill wicked men. Come to appreciate every nuance of its form and function, until your understanding of the wind rivals your understanding of the sword. Then bring it all together in a finished technique; that is the walk of a Grandmaster. But…" Mark choked up.
"Mark?" Lyn was not accustomed to seeing him like this. It was very, very unMark-like for him to wear his heart on his sleeve.
"…Lyndis…" This was Mark at his most genuine. "I've learned so many things. Acquired so much skill and knowledge. I'm not going to live forever. My biggest fear—the thing that always kept me awake at night—is that what I've learned would die with me. That before my time ended, I wouldn't be able to pass it on. I thought it would be Morgan…"
It was too much. The knowledge of what came next; what he had to do. The world's strongest man broke down and it fell to Lyn to pick up the pieces. There was a moment between them. An unspoken moment. A release of pure attraction and passion and connectedness.
And then the moment passed.
"I'm not afraid anymore. Because of you, I'm not afraid." Mark would tell her afterward. "Lyndis; this if my final instruction to you, from master to apprentice. Teach others as I have taught you. But do not make the same mistakes I have made. Be better then me."
Later still, when Lyndis had taken to dungeon delving with the rest of the party and Mark was left alone with his thoughts, he would consult The Necronomicon.
"Show it to me again…" Mark poured his willpower into the tome, and willed it to reveal secrets of the cosmos. "That day 20 years from now."
20 Years Later, In Araphen
"…You came back..." Lord Hector hadn't seen Lyndis in 20 years. No one had.
"If I hadn't, you'd have surely died." The Grandmaster had singlehandedly defeated the entire first wave of Bern's invading forces.
"Where have you—"
"Now is not the time to be catching up. There is still a war to be won." Lyn stood at-the-ready. No less then the King of Bern himself approached.
"You are the one who defeated my dragon knights!" Zephiel personally would meet this foe. "You have the honor of facing me in battle!"
"It brings me no honor. And this is no battle." Lyndis drew her sword from its scabbard and didn't so much as step forward; the cutting edge of wind magic released from her fist swing cut the King clean in half. She regarded Hector—old and bearded and pampered by court life. He was weaker now, she judged, then the boy lord she had known 20 years ago. "I take it you and Eliwood stopped training after Mark died?"
"We—didn't keep It up." Hector admitted. They had thrones to sit and countries to run. "Lyndis; where have you been? You disappeared after the battle against Robin."
"The Outrealms. Our Mark died fighting Robin, but there are other timelines. Other Marks. I find them unconscious on the plains. They don't remember anything. They tell me they know tactics, but they don't know how to fight. Just one—I need to find ONE Mark like our Mark. A Mark with all his memories, at the height of his power. I need to fight him."
"Why?" Hector didn't understand.
"Do you remember his last words?"
"Be better then me." Hector remembered.
"I need to know." Lyndis lived by those words. "That is the only way I will ever know. Did I surpass him?"