Off-topic: Well, its here. I'm not sure how the ending turned out, but the beginning sure was awesome... Figures I should write only when I feel like it :P.
Still, I'll gladly listen to your opinions and stuff. And really, just keep giving that critique, all that I've had has been phenomenal. If all critique is going to be like that, I can see myself prospering(sounds awesomely selfish, but heh).
I want to take a moment to thank you guys for taking the time reading this fic, and being awesome with your reviews. Not just that(although you'd better not say its good when it's bad), but you keep coming back chapter after chapter. It truly is humbling. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU.
... I might have to write something to commemorate hitting 50 favorites. Mind you, I'm not taking suggestions, only because I would probably lack the ability to write those or I wouldn't be so passionate about writing those. I bet you'd rather read me write what I am passionate about.
Aaaaaaand that's all for today. Enjoy this new chapter, and if you want, leave opinions, critique, and reviews, either on the reviews-section or by PMing me.
Everlasting Bonds: Wings of Despair
Against superior numbers
Robin had once read that the most terrifying sound one could hear in any war was the whistling noise of hundred arrows travelling through the air.
Technically, there were probably less arrows pounding at their shields, glancing off or getting stuck to their wooden defenses, never fully piercing them. But Robin held to the thought that the slithering noise of arriving arrow rain wasn't the most terrifying sound that one could hear in a war, and in his mind the tactician also silently wished they would not hear that heartrending voice today.
Robin's wooden safeguard shook by the power of the arrows slamming into it, and the tactician surmised he didn't really want to hear this sound either.
"How long still?" Chrom asked, gripping his shield so that his knuckles shone white, even in the dimness of the shield wall. Or 'turtle shell', as Robin's books called the formation.
"At least three more barrages," the tactician answered, peering forward from the small gap he had opened between his and Kellam's shields. The now unarmored stealthy knight was clearly within Robin's sight, though whenever the tactician turned away his eye, he found out that the knight had disappeared. It made Robin wonder whether the whole left side of his field of view was merely a giant blind spot.
Hearing the dangerous cue of arrows whistling, the tactician hastily closed the gap between their shields.
"I don't like-" Kellam said, but his sentence was cut short by the new arrow barrage. Its effect was deafening, sounding as if the shields had been assaulted by an army of woodpeckers. The noise had a nerve-wrecking quality that almost made Robin drop his shield so that he could wring his hands. Hair below Robin's neck felt like it had been standing up for hours and the feeling showed no signs of going away.
The tactician saw Kellam stare above himself, to the shield held by Lon'qu. One arrow had pierced it just above the knight's head, jutting down towards his exposed nose. He stared at the aggressive arrowhead for a while, blinking once, then for the second time, and after that Robin stopped counting.
"… Thank you," Kellam said to Lon'qu, and the Feroxi swordsman grunted back.
Delightfully gruff, as ever, Robin thought, spinning his attention towards the rest of the Shepherds.
"This is really bad…," a fair-haired youth further back said, his face towards Olivia. Immediately after, a dull thump much akin to book hitting someone's head followed.
"Nehhehheh, don't be stupid, Inigo," Henry said. "You'll make it out yet, to make ou-"
"STOP! Don't finish that sentence!" the fair-haired youth, apparently named Inigo, shouted.
"… Not fond of jests, are you?"
"Your jokes always were of the horrible variety!"
The two stopped their bickering as cracking noises resounded in the shell. Arrows kept crashing down on them again, like a deadly flood firm in its intent to wash them away. This time, Robin heard a shattering noise from behind and a sudden pained shout. Snapping his head back to look, Robin saw Laurent holding his arm. Just above him, there was a rectangular gap on top of the formation.
"Maribelle!" Robin shouted. "Give your shield to whoever is near you and move to heal Laurent! Vaike, go hold Laurent's shield up!"
"The Vaike shall do your bidding- But you'll owe me extra provisions," Vaike answered with his enthusiastic voice, already shuffling his heavy body across the deck's heavy planks. They creaked in protest, as if eager to just give away beneath.
"Over my dead body… Or if you win against me in chess," Robin declared, fully knowing what Vaike's reaction would be. The Brute was an able warrior, but he sometimes had delusions of being a man of many talents.
"The Vaike doesn't shy away from any challenge! Consider those foodstuffs mine!"
Partly sighing, partly chuckling, Robin turned his eyes to Laurent. The young mage's face was a full grimace, not even bothering to hide the pain. Robin waited till his own voice would not quiver, and asked: "Can you still do your part, Laurent?"
The man breathed heavily under small shafts of sunlight, gasping suddenly as Maribelle laid her staff on his wounded arm.
"…After approximating the exhaustion caused by the healing, I think it is safe to say my capacity to fight in this battle is minimal. As for the plan, I might need a few supplementary hands," the pointy-hatted scholar answered. Robin made a mental note of how Laurent's voice did not waver, even during the distress and pain he must have felt. Reassured in his choice to make the mage part of his plans, Robin nodded to Laurent.
"You will not engage the enemy then," he said, turning towards the group that had talked aloud only a few moments before. "Olivia, I heard before the battle that you decided to pair up with your child. Is it still so?"
"Um… yes," Olivia answered from Inigo's right side. Henry was holding up a shield behind her, grinning in a manner that offended Robin's sensibilities.
"…You two have a new job. Keep Laurent alive and take his orders. He is crucial to this battle."
"Well, mother, looks like you got promo-" Inigo said, his voice drowning out as two other Shepherds began to yell.
"Hands off, Vaike, you don't get to meddle in with my patients!" Maribelle yelled, waving her staff in menacing arcs.
"The Vaike knows his stuff, Maribelle!" the bare-chested man snapped back. "You are protruding too much oomph through that stick of yours!"
"'Protruding? Don't even try to use fancy words, you bull-headed oaf! Actually, just stop talking, your yapping makes my ears rot."
"… Yapping?"
"SHUT IT!"
Out of wisdom or, more likely, plain fear, Vaike turned his head away from his wife, leaving Maribelle to her devices. After pointedly glaring murder at Vaike, Maribelle turned back to Laurent's hand. Her staff began glowing intensely, lighting up the area that had been so dim before.
"Why did I ever marry him?" she muttered sharply, and unsurprisingly, her angry voice rang out to anyone still listening in on the conversation, including Robin himself. This is an awfully bad time for marital dispute, Maribelle, the tactician thought, shifting his body in discomfort.
"For love, mum," a gruff man behind Laurent's former position suddenly answered. Not surprisingly, his name also eluded Robin's mind. I'll have to fix that, the tactician resolved.
"And it had a happy ending," the man continued, his face somewhere in the middle of a smile and and awkward realization, "Well, sorta. You both died together."
As if to punctuate his words, arrows rained again. The Shepherds' shields cracked in bloodcurdling manner, almost to the point of bringing a shout out of Robin's mouth. Yet no cries of pain ensued this time, to the tactician's enormous relief.
These shields may not last, Robin agonized and moved his shield to open up a space between his and Kellam's protectors. The tactician peered out of it, immediately surprised by the great looming sight of the enemy's flagship.
After the amazement subsided, the tactician gazed around to get a good view and spent a few moments making quick decisions. Then he closed the opening again.
"Their flagship is close," Robin said to Chrom, and the Ylissean prince nodded back, face stiff with determination. It was a look distinctly familiar to the tactician; last time he saw it was when the two had charged towards Gangrel in the middle of a melee, resolute to end the war between Ylisse and Plegia once and for all.
"Shall I give the final orders?" Chrom asked, turning to gaze at other Shepherds. The crown prince's eyes did not convey as much emotion as his other actions; he was grabbing the hilt of Falchion as if it were the only thing standing between enemy soldiers and his men.
"Yeah," Robin answered, pushing away the looming melancholy that came from dwelling in the past. It would serve no purpose in the battle. "If you would…?"
The crown prince suddenly raised his voice to yell, piercing through every conversation and argument inside the thin barricade.
"We are reaching the enemy flagship! Break this formation at my command!"
What was likely to be the final arrow of this volley slammed into one of the shields at Chrom's left, at least when judged by the time there had been between it and the last wood-shattering sound effect. Chrom steeled himself for what would come next. The air in his throat churned upwards, becoming a violent roar.
"Now! Break the formation!"
As wooden noises came from Chrom's right side and behind, the crown prince burst forward and took a look at the enemy ship.
He came to a sudden realization.
"Brace for impact!" Chrom shouted. There was no time to look for the right words. The crash was only moments aw-
A screeching, ship-shaking impact toppled Chrom off his feet, landing him on the side he had strapped Falchion on. Chrom's shield was lying a few paces away, thrown away in the sudden loss of balance. From ground, the crown prince saw Lon'qu, awkwardly on one knee, holding Lissa. She seemed to be alright.
"Chrom!" someone shouted. Immediately, two hands grabbed Chrom's forearm, pulling him deftly up.
Managing to get his feet in order, Chrom found himself face to face with the worried tactician. The crown prince waved his hand dismissively. "I'm alright. Good to see you didn't lose your balance as well."
"Well, I wasn't the one focused on giving orders."
"True," Chrom said. He looked around quickly, trying to find the knight who usually watched over Ylisse's royalty. "Frederick!"
"I am here, milord," a voice said from behind. The crown prince spun around, feeling his heart inside his chest pound out and eyes widen. The latter was a strange feeling, as if his eyes desperately wanted more room to expand to.
"Gah! You startled me! I swear, since losing the horse you became a lot more Kellam-esque."
"May I remind you two-" Robin said, nodding towards the enemy ship that was now, after the Shepherd flagship's shifting movement, immediately next to theirs. "-That this is neither the time nor place to hold a conversation!"
"He's absolutely right, milord. I would suggest we follow Robin's suggestion."
"That's twice the 'suggestion', Frederick."
"What was it about having an idle talk that you said?"" Frederick asked, softly spinning a silvery spear around with his fingertips. On his left hand the knight still wore the wooden shield, while others had probably left theirs behind. It would serve no practical purpose for a regular swordsman, not to mention a mage.
Robin lifted his hands, his face resigned. He probably remembered we don't have any time for this.
After briefly checking that his belt, and thus Falchion, was still firmly buckled on, Chrom turned towards the bigger enemy ship. His hand went for Falchion's hilt and drew the blade from its scabbard. The golden blade that promised justice and mercy alike shined upon meeting rays of the sun.
"Assault force, to me! The rest of you, keep the men of that other ship off our backs!"
In mere seconds most of the older Shepherds had formed around Chrom and Robin, creating a wedge of sorts. Chrom gazed forward and saw their enemies, already up and armed again. The Valmese probably thought they would fend off the Shepherds' first assault.
But they don't have a tactician like Robin, Chrom thought, taking pride in the assurance he had in his friend. Never will.
He took off in a sprint, and the rest of his men followed. Wildly fluctuating orbs of darkness and shining lines of edgy lightning flew past, as Chrom narrowly weaved past each obstacle, Robin at his right side and Frederick to the left. Some of the enemy magic was met with the Shepherds' own sorcery, although those collisions only happened, if the conjuration's arrival would have meant a quick trip to the afterlife for someone.
The former great knight managed to overtake the crown prince in his run, probably in an attempt to assure Chrom's safe arrival to the enemy lines. It was a futile endeavor, but the act embodied that which Frederick was; the royal bodyguard, ready to give his own life for Chrom or Lissa if needed.
The crown prince saw Frederick leap over the two railings right onto the deck of the enemy's flagship and smash the wooden shield against attackers that barred his way.
Chrom leaped over the railing as well, entering the field of battle as other ships of their fleet began to collide with the enemy's, leaving behind splinters and badly crushed hulls that floated on the sea-water, already tarnishing the before-so-tranquil waters.
The battle for their continent had now truly begun.