Chapter 21: Endgame: Vikeruce's Retribution

Et Excrementum Geminos Arc

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem, this is just a Fanfiction.

Featured Music: "Pray for Victory" – Fire Emblem 10: Radiant Dawn OST. Chapter Briefing.

"Wall Day (Great Red Spirit ~ Dynasty Warriors 5) Dynasty Warriors Online OST. Scene 1 (Second Half).]

"Main Theme" - Metal Gear Solid OST. Scene 3 (First Half).

"The Rain Stops" - Naruto Part II OST. Scene 3 (Second Half).

The Aselian and Etherthien forces have finally broken through Naerith and reached the capital at Naesbray and, yet, King Alpheus is no-where to be found. The only reminders of his existence are the Renegade Saints; his own personal unit. One by one they all fall to the Aselian forces at the head until, finally, only their commander is left.

The Masked Man.

Having struck a deal with his closer companions, Selthris Vikeruce's attempt at revenge is finally within reach; he places the mysteriously missing king out of his mind and merely focuses on the object of his desires for long past a year. Though the Masked Man himself seems to almost regret his earlier actions and even offers a cease-fire with the High Lord, Selthris obliges him not. With his final objective finally in grasping distance, he reasserts his resolve and the two stare one another down for their final confrontation.

This year long odyssey, in which a father's death began in, is finally coming to a close here today.

Scene 1

"You are certain this is what you want?"

Selthris looked up from his conjoined hands and praying to blink in pure surprise; the Masked Man glared back at him before continuing on, as if pressed.

"I have much to tell you." He offered in a low tone of voice, his words almost seeming to ricochet off of the castle walls they stood in. Selthris' silvery eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"How about we make a deal?" The High Lord proposed as his white lightning began to crackle around him; a clear indication of his Aegir growing. "If I can take that mask of yours off...," he began lowly before putting on a low smirk, as if already knowing somehow. "Then you can tell me whatever you want to."

The pair seemed to stare one another down for what felt like hours and yet, no words were passed between them, except a mutual knowing desire of hatred between them. Finally, however, the Masked Man responded.

"Fine," he finally spat before twirling his sword around in a fighting stance, his robes being blown around the area as a result of the electricity growing between the two. "Then show me, son of Sathryon! Show me your strength!"

As if pulled by his words, the Masked Man grunted as he leapt forward in an obvious pursuit attack; though he attempted to slash at the youth's body and face his weapon clanged noisily against an invisible shield of some kind.

"What the-?" The Field Marshal gasped out as he stumbled backwards in surprise. As if reacting to his attack, Selthris' once silvery eyes shot wide open and with them came an incredible tremor that not only rocked the very foundations of the castle that they stood in but the shocked Masked Man himself. He had to steady himself to stop from falling and, as he shot his head up to stare back at the yelling Selthris, he swiftly found multiple differences present in the boy.

The once white lightning had switched to a dark ebony and his aura of Quintessence had intensified to look like pure fire itself in spite of its natural affinity. His similarly black eyes burned with the intense hatred he had once focused on him and a silvery shadow plucked at each side of his eye.

A transformation change, perhaps?

Whatever it was, the Masked Man thought to himself, it was far too much strength for anyone at their station.

Attempting to counter the youth, the narrow-eyed Field Marshal shot his own arms to his side and began to charge his own Aegir to match him. Before he could catch up to his opponent however, the youth suddenly vanished from his vision. The Masked Man's eyebrows rose upwards in curiosity and though he searched for him, it was far too late.

SMASH

The Field Marshal's breath was caught in between his throat and his mouth; an intense pain suddenly filled his lower stomach and chest area. His eyes snapped downwards to find the similarly scowling Selthris, fist sunk six inches deep and even drawing blood.

"W-Wha-?!"

Without uttering another word, Selthris roared with effort as he smashed his boot across the grunting Masked Man's face, his ebony lightning crackling in his movement. As he careered through the air aimlessly, rolling in pain, the Masked Man's eyes widened before he exclaimed in a mixture of anger and shock, utilising his Aegir to back-flip and recover in mid-air, levitating harmlessly. He spat out the blood that collected in the back of his mouth before growling lightly as he set his limbs aside from one another to charge his Quintessence once more.

This time the vanishing Selthris re-appeared behind the masked general and attempted to follow up his blinding offence with a simple but effort-filled punch. The Masked Man spun around and, utilising his own lightning, he growled as he caught the boy's blackened fist into his left palm, beginning a begrudging struggle between the two. The two levitated in the air for at least a few seconds before, finally and suddenly as well, Selthris seemed to expend yet more power and effort in his attack; a roar escaped his scowling mouth as he pushed his body forward.

The Masked Man's eyes widened behind his disguise and he yelped in sudden and surprised pain as he was sent rolling backward at high speed. Using his sword arm on his right to cartwheel in recovery, he landed in a gasping skidding scowl. He shot up his masked head to look for his super-fast opponent and widened his eyes when he realised he disappeared again. His alarm growing he snapped his head around in searching for the youth and shook his badly burnt left fist as if to heal it somehow before gasping as he caught the youth beside him...

… but all too late.

Selthris smashed his black and blazing fist into the masked Field Marshal's face, sending him rolling through the air; he unfortunately dropped his sword to the ground with an audible clang, forcing him to reach out in desperation to catch the weapon but to no avail. Unfortunately for the Masked Man, his opponent's offence was not over yet; with widened, shocked eyes he found was he was being pulled back the way he came.

"How is he doing this?!" The panicking Field Marshal managed to think to himself with grit teeth behind his disguise. His eyes traced the scowling Selthris ahead of him and he found he was utilising arms made of Quintessence. The boy's mortal enemy's eyes widened in growing alarm before, finally, he had had enough. The Masked Man allowed himself to be pulled in before charging his right fist with lightning Aegir. Selthris seemed to note it but it did not dissuade him; as he pulled the mysterious warrior in, he seemed to do the same with his own free right fist. The pair began a long, proud and similarly desperate war cry together as they approached before, finally, colliding their lightning with one another.

BANG

A simple explosion of pure power erupted between the two, intensified heavily by their burning auras of Quintessence. The tiles and even pillars around them began to erode just from being close to their roaring and chirping lightning, an unnatural wind blowing the tiles everywhere around them. They levitated in mid-air with one another, roaring similarly for what felt like even longer than before; finally however, as Selthris' eyes turned an even darker shade of ebony (if that were even possible) his strength also increased and not just by a small amount.

The Masked Man's eyes widened again in an alarming gasp when he found this, ultimately finding no answer to his inner panicked questions. Before he was sent flying backward, his mind almost seemed to picture multiple faces on his opponent's younger one. The Field Marshal stared at him curiously.

First Sathryon's scowling face stared back at him and then, others from the books he had read until, finally, one more that opted to tip him off.

The hard-frowning face of the Sorcerer of the Divine Divide.

"Inconceivable!" The Masked Man suddenly hollerred as loud as he could above the din of their auras before, finally, Selthris' strike struck true; the Field Marshal gasped in another bout of intense pain as his opponent managed to smash him directly in the face. He was sent rolling through the air rapidly and as he twisted and ricocheted across the once tiled ground painfully.

CRACK

The Masked Man growled as he utilised his left gloved arm to slow his skidding, raking the ground painfully; bringing up further tiles and dust. He managed to force himself back upward but not without a grunt of effort; his mind attempted to quickly recall the events which transpired.

Selthris out-performed him again.

He had managed to see the faces of his opponent's ancestors in him.

And finally, he managed to almost break his durable mask while he was at it.

The Field Marshal shot his bleeding right arm up to grasp at his mask in question, feeling the intense crack he had caused diagonally across the facial area.

How did he get so strong in such a short space of time?!

His answers were opted not to be responded to however for when the Field Marshal snapped his vision back forward, his opponent had disappeared again.

"Not again!" He exclaimed suddenly in a mixture of shock and anger, snapping his head around in searching. Unfortunately for him, however, it was the black lightning chirping above him that finally tipped him off; the Field Marshal shot his head upwards in his wide-eyed glare to find the rapidly plummeting Selthris, right fist covered in ebony coloured electricity.

If that particular one hit...

… then that might be the end.

As if mirroring their earlier fight at Wrulz Mountain, the Masked Man, finding his body too weak to escape the attack entirely, opted to kneel forward and bend his body upwards. He crossed his robe-torn arms up in an X to defend hopelessly against the incoming attack.

"All my hatred...," Selthris' low voice bounced off of the walls in spite of his loudly chirping lightning. "In this one attack!" He roared, this time his voice entering the twitching-faced Masked Man's. "Denjin... Et...!" The High Lord began before, finally, he approached within reasonable distance; the Masked Man's own eyes widened as he intensified his Aegir shroud to block the incoming attack. "MESSATSU!"

DROOM

Almost immediately the Masked Man's fears heightened as he watched his opponent shout over the din of his own attack, his lightning fist easily piercing the man's gasping defence. With little recourse over it, the ebony burning fist smashed hard into the Field Marshal's face, clearly aimed for his mask. The pair began to clamour together as loudly as their lungs would allow, the ground and very building itself shaking with each passing second that they were locked.

CRACK

As Selthris' fist burned intensely into the mask below him it finally began to give way, with each second a tiny part was taken from the main disguise itself. His adrenaline increasing to untold amounts, he let loose a long war cry, his voice bouncing off the walls as roughly as his attack did.

"NOOOOOOOO!" The Masked Man's voice called out from beneath the youth.

"Now you will show me...," Selthris began lowly before widening his night-black eyes at his hated enemy. "Who you ARE!"

–

2

Selthris grunted lightly as he back-flipped in recovery from his earlier direct attack; his morale and mood raised to an extremely high temperature as he realised he had finally come within range of achieving his year-long ambition. He frowned as hard as he was able to, opting to give the smoke ahead of him time to clear. What seemed to take ages eventually and finally passed for the youth before, subsequently, it did and Selthris was greeted to a shocking sight indeed.

His unnamed opponent was knelt down, their now visible silvery head of hair lowered similarly in tandem from his attack. Selthris' brow furrowed as he noted the figure's hair colour.

It couldn't be, he thought to himself.

The mysterious fighter finally raised their head and, as if acting on his dreading fears, a woman glared back at him wordlessly. Her bruised, battered and bloody face scowled back at him and her long and wavy silver hair bounced around her complexion as she raised her head up to face him.

"Selthris," she finally spoke and the High Lord's black eyes widened in pure, unadulterated shock. "It's... been a while."

"But that's-" Selthris gasped out as he watched her in a dismissive shake of his head. "S-Staciel...?"

Finally, a name to a face, she pulled herself up with a low grunt, dusting off her tattered robe as she did so.

His only sibling and, his twin.

Staciel Vikeruce.

"Why hadn't I-?"

"Realised it?" The woman interrupted with, raising a curious eyebrow as she did so. She turned a corner of her mouth up at him in seeming hatred. "Because I didn't want you to."

"F-Father and...," Selthris began in reply as he gripped the sides of his head and shook it wildly, as if attempting to rid himself of the growing stress. "Why?!" He exclaimed this time as he shot his head back up to scowl angrily at her. "What is this?!" He demanded hotly, swiping his burning fist horizontally through the air for effect. Staciel merely stared back at him for a few seconds before leaning her silvery-haired head to the side.

"Et Excrementum Geminos."

Selthris blinked in surprise. "Wha-?"

"You were speaking the old language when you used that attack on me earlier," she shot back in her brief explanation. "Loosely translated... it means: 'The Abominable Twins'."

"The Abominable Twins...?" Selthris parroted in response, shaking his head dismissively, as if looking for the answer himself. "What...?"

"That necklace you still wear," she began in reply, raising her left hand to point over at it. Selthris blinked and traced her finger to find the gemstone he remembered. "The Fire Emblem."

"What about it?" Selthris spat back testily, shaking his head as he curled his mouth upwards in a mixture of frustration and curiosity.

"Don't you remember the letter you were given?"

Selthris' muscles stiffened and he stared back at her, shocked, surprised and suspicious.

"How did you know about that?" He whispered apprehensively, his eyes widened as he did so.

She merely stared back at him in her tired-eye expression before finally replying. "I couldn't be sure when I saw that power you wielded," she began once more before nodding her head slowly and continuing. "But it is true; you must have met our ancestor," the unmasked Field Marshal explained briefly; Selthris had to stop from gasping, opting instead to widen his eyes voicelessly. "The very first of us."

"The... Sorcerer of the Divine Divide," Selthris answered for her, also nodding in response. She merely stared back at him wordlessly, as if emphasising him to continue. "But... what do you mean about-?"

"Didn't he tell you anything? About our clan? Maybe our history?"

Selthris' blurry black eyes widened again in surprise and recognition.

She was right, he thought.

What was it he said?

It felt so long ago now he could barely remember.

"Something about...," he ventured to guess in his bad remembrance, shaking his head lowly as he did so before quickly re-raising it to face her. "This all happening before?"

She clicked her right fingers at him in her hard frown, ending in a direct point. "You and I; we're just two links in a much greater chain," the Field Marshal nodded as she explained before persevering on. "If we continue this fight...," she began again, this time with a hard furrowed brow and a slimming narrow of her eyes. "Then we will die."

Selthris couldn't help but gasp even lightly in response, broadening his eyes in a show of his shock. "W-Why, how?"

"I was told this by a fortune teller of some renown," she explained briefly in retort. "It would seem fate is indeed cruel." Staciel claimed in her low tone of voice as she lowered her eyes to match her sombre tone.

"You mean our clan history, don't you," Selthris finally recognised; surprised, Staciel shot up her head and stared at him for a second before finally nodding. "I've read... a little." He admitted; this time he was the one to turn his eyes elsewhere, as if knowing. The pair shared a similarly suspicious silence before Staciel subsequently threw in a few words of her own.

"So...," she began, pulling the youth's attention upward. "Even knowing... that I am our father's killer...," the Field Marshal claimed as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Can you still kill me?"

Selthris stared at her for a few seconds wordlessly, as if working her words out for himself. However, he finally responded.

"Yes," the High Lord growled out through grit teeth, his blazing black eyes glaring back at her. "But... I need to know."

Staciel raised a curious eyebrow up as she listened, pressing him to continue.

"Why?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously. "Why would you kill our father?"

"Why...?" Staciel repeated in a venomous spit, glaring at him in a similarly hateful expression. "Do you even remember our childhood?"

He blinked at her before shaking his head.

"I... remember small parts but... very little of us."

"Of course you don't," she spat in her seething scowl. "You stole everything from me before I was even born." She hissed at him angrily.

Selthris merely tilted his head in curiosity at her, allowing her to continue on.

"I was always much stronger and far more intelligent than you were and yet, father, that imbecile," she spat out, scowling hatefully as she thought of the man in question. "He chose you."

"You sound like you're obsessed, Staciel," Selthris answered, raising his eyebrow upward suspiciously at her. "Is that what this is?"

"You shut your mouth... little brother," the Field Marshal hissed back, similarly cruelly. "The only reason I exist was a pure accident."

"Accident...?"

"Sathryon never loved me," she spat out angrily and hatefully. "He saved everything for his only son; the one child he was never disappointed in." She pointed out.

Selthris' own eyes narrowed forward as he listened. He felt like interrupting her but it wouldn't be polite. Especially after everything they had both been through.

I should at least let her talk, he thought.

"Don't you remember?" She hissed over at him angrily as she took a few steps toward him, glaring at him in a similarly hateful manner. Selthris merely stared at her, furrowed brow and all in a concentrating fixation of his own. "The only reason he chose you is because you weren't a woman!" The eldest of the two suddenly finished with an angry yell, this time eliciting a surprised gasp from the youth before her.

"W-Wha-?" He merely managed out in a low stammer. "But that can't be; father would never-"

"I knew more about him than you realise, little brother," Staciel interrupted him, this time with a low knowing grin. Selthris, taken aback, winced as she did so but opted to listen further. "Father wasn't the angel the people of Aselia made him out to be," she offered as she shook her head at him, opting to fold her torn robed arms at him, pacing around the freshly dilapidated throne room as she did so.

"What are you talking about?" Selthris dared to venture with, narrowing his aura burning eyes at her in hard thought as he did so.

"Come now, Selthris, don't make me say it," the Field Marshal chuckled knowingly and even almost sadistically to a point. Selthris watched her, his eyes slowly widening as he listened; her grin seemed to grow wider, as if recognising the influx of information he took. "That's right."

"No; father would never-"

"Yes, he did Selthris!" Staciel interrupted him once again, this time unfolding her arms and swiping her left diagonally as she spoke, taking a step forward. "And to make matters worse he put all of his effort into focusing on you," she spoke in a upward curl of her lip, as if disgusted somehow. Selthris watched her in a mixture of hurt and insult but allowed her to continue regardless. "Pathetic."

"I know we never really spent much time together in our childhood...," Selthris began in reply as he put on his hardest frown back to speak to her with. "But do you really hate me so?"

Staciel merely stared back at him cruelly, as if to answer his question with her chilly demeanour in response.

"But...?"

"You...," she began lowly and angrily, looking down on him as if she were speaking to an insect. "You stole everything from me before I was even born!" She exclaimed suddenly, her low but angry voice bouncing off the walls of the throne room.

Selthris narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at her, though he gave her a light wince back as if to recognise her words. The Field Marshal seemingly couldn't help but let out a knowing chuckle, her lip turning up to match her tone as she paced around the room, watching him intently.

"You should understand me brother," Staciel chuckled over at him, a knowing grin on her face as she tilted it at him; seemingly an old habit of hers. "You, who could kill our own real-"

FLASH

Selthris gasped as he stumbled backward, ebony eyes widening in shock. Crimson-hot images suddenly flickered across his mind and he could only grasp the sides of his head as they did. He scrunched his eyes shut roughly in response to the older warrior's words, attempting to drown her voice out to a mere blurry echo. Seemingly noticing his actions, Staciel watched him with a curious raise of her eyebrow before curling the bloodstained side of her left lip upwards in seeming amusement, or, indeed; satisfaction.

"So... this is your true face," she spoke as he pulled his hands back down, staring back at her angrily. "You enjoyed it... didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?!" Selthris hissed back as he narrowed his eyes back at her suspiciously. Undeterred by his reception however, she merely glared back at him in her satisfied grin.

"Oh son of Sathryon...," the silver-haired twin chuckled lowly in her grin as she watched him, shaking her head disapprovingly at him before continuing on. "Whatever else could have happened to my comrades?"

Selthris' eyes widened in surprise before he put on his hard scowl once more. "If you're suggesting I enjoy butchering them then-"

This time it was Staciel's turn to hiss and she glowered hatefully at him when she did. "Don't even attempt to lie to me,Selthris!" She growled back at him, tilting her head at him as she did so. "You're an even worse liar than a warrior."

Though he gave a defeated grunt back in reply he could only twitch his scowl back at her in response.

"Don't you see? We're different from those worthless excuses for soldiers out there," the older and seemingly wiser young woman explained briefly as she folded her arms up at him, pacing toward him. "Think about how close you are with any member of that army of yours," she explained briefly and he couldn't help but drop his scowl in place of a shocked frown, eyes widened once more. Satisfied at hitting a bullseye with his reaction, she couldn't help but smirk confidently as she continued. "You don't have to deny your heritage... we were burdened to be this way!"

"W-What...?"

"We're not exactly sure when it started... but I was told it began as far back as the Sorcerer's era," Staciel began in explanation as she started to pace around the room, torn robed arms still folded. "They called it the 'Golden Era'."

"Golden Era...," Selthris murmured in repeat as he listened intently. "If I remember myself then..."

"Some of this is taught in history classes; you will definitely recognise it," the Field Marshal claimed boldly as she turned her head half-way to face him before continuing on forward. "Dragons and men both clashed and worked together for two goals. One; to defend the Golden Goddesses' Sacred Realm from pillage..."

"The Sorcerer... of the Divine Divide...?" Selthris murmured this time as he narrowed his eyes at her as she walked on in her explanation.

"And two," she said, this time turning to face him, body leant to the side in her bloody faced scowl. "To steal the very essence of Aegir itself from the Golden Goddesses' own dimension and home."

"Why was this never...?"

"I'm not sure," Staciel merely answered as she turned her head away from him in remembrance. "Perhaps it would have something to do with the fact that... you and I..."

Selthris raised a curious eyebrow upward at her, urging her to continue.

"We are both descended from the twins that attempted takeover of the Sacred Realm." She answered, her hard-edged eyes snapping over at him. He gasped before laughing nervously in response.

"Surely you're...?"

She shook her head at him in dissenting.

Selthris' eyes widened at her in recognition, a memory resurfacing from his encounter with the Sorcerer of the Divine Divide and with the plaque he had saw in their tomb.

Inspired by the rebellion, countless other factions in Dracolius take arms against the Sainted's military. Using the rest of his military force, the Sorcerer manages to quell this uprising though not without many casualties this time, due to the interference of two powerful individuals. Among these casualties are the two twin sons of the Sorcerer, who it would seem led this rebellion.

Widening his eyes in recognition once more, he turned his head back upwards to face the firm glaring Staciel.

"But... then...?"

"That's right," she hissed over, as if angry somehow. "You and I are the cursed descendants of those idiots!" She whispered hatefully as she scowled over at him.

"But that... can't be...?" He asked desperately as he took a step back from her, shook to his core at the revelation.

"Very well then... inheritor."

The Sorcerer's very own words.

Even while he hated the idea of this insane notion being in any sense correct, somehow he knew in the deepest reach of his heart that his older sister was not lying to him.

"B-But even if we are," Selthris began to reason with the young woman before him; she raised a curious silver eyebrow up at him as he took a step forward to frown at her. "We don't have to follow what some book said!" The High Lord hissed lowly as he gestured with his own torn gloves, opting to clench his fingers together as he did so. "Surely we can-"

"You can't fight your genes, Selthris," the former masked general grinned back at him, spitting the trickling blood from the side of her lip as she did so. "Unless...," she began this time, narrowing her eyes at him thoughtfully. He watched her curiously, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Have your feelings changed?" She asked, tilting her head at him before re-folding her arms. "Can you truly join forces with one such as I?"

Selthris stared at her, his hard frown unchanged. His mind quickly processed the possibility of sparing her (or indeed, himself) but every time he did he couldn't help but despising the idea of his enemy living. He now understood why she killed their father...

… but he did not fully grasp why she wanted to join forces.

"I hate you," Selthris finally admitted in his response, twitching his growing scowl as he did. Staciel seemingly couldn't help but chuckle lightly as she listened. "But I need to know one thing first."

"Name it."

"If you also hate me...," the High Lord began lowly before continuing on with a swift narrow of his eyes. "Then why do you need me so much?"

Staciel stared back at him wordlessly for a few seconds before tilting her head lightly. "There's a man... you may remember him from your travels in Etherthien."

"How do you know about...?"

"Everyone in Naerith knew about your exploits over there," she answered deftly, her voice carrying a tinge of annoyance in it. Selthris looked away, opting to allow her to continue with her reasoning. "There was a man leading the Etherthien rebellion down there, in the mountains," she began again. "Without him they would easily have fallen not just to your forces but to King Alaric's."

Selthris' mind quickly returned to his adventure through the cold country of Etherthien.

Who was she talking about, he thought.

It couldn't be the leader, surely?

"Not Gallarus, surely?" He voiced his doubts with a curious raise of his eyebrow.

"No, not that idiot," she growled back in response as she turned to pace the room once more; an old habit it seemed. She walked around one of the pillars they had destroyed in their previous engagement. "Without a strategist – and a good one at that – he would have easily fallen."

Selthris' burning black eyes lowered in temporary thought before slowly shaking his head in quiet dissenting. "I don't remember any-"

"Do you know anything about father's history?" She called behind her, facing the wall ahead of her. Selthris merely blinked at her. "Do you know the story of the man that killed him?"

"The man that... killed him...?"

A sudden memory with his allies flashed in his mind, as if called to the surface of his conscious. He gasped in remembrance, the words coming back to him.

"This person didn't just challenge Lord Sathryon; he reportedly defeated him in single combat and killed him himself."

"When Lord Sathryon told me this, he told me he had met with one told in our history books, one people theorise to be a mere fairy tale; The One."

"Yes!" Selthris suddenly exclaimed; the folded armed Field Marshal ahead of him snapped her head half-way 'round, eyes glaring in response. "Yes I... I remember, I think."

"No-one knew his name, his true name I mean," Staciel finally replied as she turned her silvery-haired head back to face the wall before her. "But I believe I know him."

Selthris raised a curious eyebrow up in response. "And who-?"

"The only name I know him by...," she began before begrudgingly turning around to face him, lowering her folded arms as she did so, placing one on her hip. "Is Cadil Agares."

"Cadil...?" Selthris mouthed back in response, shaking his head lightly. Try as he might he could not recount the name in his memory banks.

"He is considerably strong, little brother," Staciel spoke in a low toned hiss, glaring forward as she did so. "If you or I were to try him one by one we would surely perish."

Selthris opted to remain silent this time and frowned back at her, listening intently as he usually did.

"But if we were to join forces...," she began this time, outstretching her limp right arm and hand, as if to be taken. Selthris' burning eyes narrowed at it suspiciously, darting back up to face her. "There is no telling what we could accomplish; we are the last surviving spawn of Sathryon Vikeruce...!" She hissed again, this time in a show of urgency. Selthris stared back at her voicelessly for a second or two in deliberate consideration before, finally, opening his mouth to reply.

"What of Aselia? And Naerith?" He blurted out in response; her eyes widened, as if surprised by his query. "What about my comrades?"

The pair stared at one another and it was Staciel's turn to remain eerily silent before she finally and gradually hovered her arm back down to its original limping position at her side.

Clearly her answer was given.

"Aselia and Naerith can burn for all I care," she grunted back in response, her eyes narrowing with each word in clear hatred. "Let's be honest, little brother," she called over quietly. "Who really in that ragtag group can you say you trust?"

Selthris' mind immediately hovered to his ever grinning companion, Leo. And though he was ready to answer, she continued on.

"The only person that you can truly rely on... is yourself," the Field Marshal claimed. Selthris' own scowl twitched but he lowered his blackened eyes in defeating agreement. "I'm not asking for sibling camaraderie," she clarified, calling his eyes back up to frown at her. "I'm asking for an only comrade to fight against our clan's fate."

Selthris stared at her for a single second before retorting. "Our fate, huh," he repeated in recognition, narrowing his eyes in hers. "You mean...?"

"Of course I do," she answered just as quickly, taking a step forward to outstretch her hand once more. "All throughout history, the Abominable Twins have always been at odds," she explained briefly. "We have turned on each other for one reason or another... but this is our chance,Selthris," the young woman claimed as she glared back at him in spite of her inviting tone. "We could break the cycle!" She hissed onwards as she leaned her body forward with her outstretched arm. When she saw the wordless and hate-filled glare she was responded with, she opted for a different approach. "You have undoubtedly grown stronger; much stronger since our childhood," she began before putting on a low glare of her own. "Perhaps even stronger than myself..."

Selthris couldn't help but grow the tiniest of smiles, though, not in joy.

"I won't drop everything I've fought for up until this point," he finally answered however, his firm frown reasserting his intentions. His blazing eyes fixated on her with a fierce hunger to match his loathing expression. "You murdered my father...," he began again before scowling horribly. "And now you're gonna pay."

Staciel stared back at him for around half a second or two before finally opting to hover her arm back down for the second time. Seemingly unable to convince her opponent and seeming mortal enemy, she instead chose to unsheathe her sword, pointing it at the youth before her.

"I had hoped we could reason this out...," she began begrudgingly before scowling back at the lowering form of her opponent. "But if this is the way fate is to be... then come at me," the Field Marshal began again before widening her eyes angrily at him. "Son of Sathryon!"

–

3

This time she began in earnest; with no mask to block her vision her strength and skill was seemingly increased. Selthris grunted as he blocked her series of swipes and slashes, his own speed and fortitude heightened with the use of his light transformation. Though he managed to successfully block each one of them, he found himself losing space, quickly being cornered. Thinking unusually quickly, the shrouded youth growled before widening his own eyes and yelling as he expelled forth a small amount of his Quintessence.

Staciel gasped and she shut a single eye in effort as she was sent skidding backward; Selthris deftly pursued her retreating form with a leap to his right, suddenly disappearing from the common eye. Coating his right boot in black lightning his roar of effort was magnified by the walls of the throne room they fought in; he sent his Aegir coated leg in a diagonal swipe. Staciel snapped her scowling face 'round to face him, spinning in a roundhouse kick of her own to block the attack. Unfortunately for her, however, the ebony lightning encased in his leg and his body managed to scorch the yelping young woman; she swore loudly to give voice to her pain, sent spinning in place.

"What is that Aegir?!" The Field Marshal merely managed out in her pained scowl before she widened her eyes once more at the sight waiting for her. The similarly scowling Selthris sent his scorching fist rocketing toward her solar plexus, obviously intended to kill. Staciel glared hatefully back at him before readying her free left hand, coursing her own Aegir through it in preparation.

CLASH

The throne room erupted in a shaking and echoing smash; Selthris' black lightning mixing with the former Masked Man's white lightning. The pair stayed like that for a few seconds that seemed to almost pass like minutes, glaring similarly cruelly at one another before, finally another massive explosion caused by the intensity of their Quintessence caused them to both retreat involuntarily.

"Argh!" Staciel called out in further pain as not only her opponent's, but her own attack, managed to double-edge on her; she growled as she used her Aegir to back-flip in mid-air and skid across the destroyed tiled ground below her. As she spat out yet more blood trickling at the side of her mouth, Selthris seemed to be in a similar state; he also back-flipped to recover, a lighter wound on his similarly scorched left arm and face. However, unlike her, he grunted as he leapt to his left mid-recovery. Staciel's eyes widened in shock but she quickly managed to follow his incredibly fast movement speed; tracing his sprint across the very walls of the castle.

Though he seemed to approach her from her right, specifically from the wall, her eyes widened as he finally cannoned towards her, swiftly disappearing.

An after-image?

"No!" She exclaimed, snapping her head to her left.

But it was far too late.

Selthris' hate-filled yell was all she needed to confirm her opponent's feint attack; he roared along with her own worried yelp, crashing his black encased fist into her face. Time seemed to slow down for the pair; she stared back hatefully at him through his blazing fist while he instead glowered back, teeth grit viciously in a show of obvious desperation. When time finally regained its true flow, Staciel could only grunt in the great pain she received from her enemy's well-founded strike and she was sent rocketing toward the very wall she thought he was attacking from.

A high pitched whistle accompanied her sailing form before it finally ended with a loud and cacophonous crash, bringing fallen stone and boulders above. Though he had successfully struck her, Selthris smashed his hands together in yet another praying motion, as if to gain further Aegir from the rest of his one-time reserves. To answer his ferocious attack, the wall she was sent sailing into suddenly showered upwards in an incredible show of fireworks. Staciel accompanied the flying boulders, stone and Aegir cloak with an effort-filled yell, her voice bouncing off the walls of the room.

Selthris could only let out a half-amused, half-disappointed low grin from the left side of his mouth as he watched her, his feelings mixed at seeing her live through his Aegir infused strike. Finally, her charging ended and the bleeding and bruised faced youth grunted as she shot forward in an obvious but lightning fast blitz. The unmasked elder of Aselia let out a hateful roar as she sent her sword slamming into her grunting opponent's own. Their strength was so incredibly high that, as a result, their weapons were sent spinning in the air away from them, landing on the ground harmlessly. Selthris and Staciel exclaimed a similar grunt as they staggered backwards from their attacks, glaring at one another wordlessly as they did.

This time however, as Staciel levitated in mid-air she sent her boot back, clearly ready for an assault. Selthris' eyes narrowed at it and readied himself; as she inevitably dove for him in a deft downward kick, he shot his body to his right to swiftly evade the woman's strike. She skid across the ground and promptly leapt to her rear to evade Selthris' black lightning dive-kick of his own. Selthris growled in effort as he caught himself with a left arm aimed toward the ground, spitting out blood as quickly as he could in preparation. Finally however she re-appeared in front of him and she let out a hated yell of effort as she rushed him, her right arm encased in sparking white lightning.

Widening his blazing black eyes, Selthris enveloped his own right arm in his Aegir shrouded aura before leaping to meet her attack with his own. Uncaring for the seeming consequences, Selthris instead met his older sibling with his final ditch effort. The pair exchanged a similarly scowling glare before finally colliding with their last assaults.

SMASH

Apart from the sound of their chirping electricity, the pair's sudden halted movement caused an eerie silence. Selthris gasped as he stood extremely close to his older sister, coughing out suddenly to break the tension; blood fell from a wound he could not see and though he lowered his hard-edged eyes downward, he saw his own blackened fist protruding from her back and chest. His eyes still widened he turned them directly downward to find her own clenched arm impaled through his further torn chest. He heard her cough in a seemingly amused chuckle, blood also dropping to the ground from her assault.

"I-Impressive...," she could only manage out in her low, mirthless chuckle, bloodstained face and all. She put on a similarly flat grin as she continued before the pair, seemingly like-minded, both yanked their fists from their pained bodies together simultaneously. Selthris managed to stay on his feet for a few seconds, long enough to watch the blood-encased young woman grin over at him before re-opening her blood-soaked mouth. "Just... like... Sathryon..." She managed out in another cough infused laugh before she finally dropped harmlessly to the ground face up.

Selthris' blackened eyes soon began to fizzle out and return to their normal silvery colour; his Aegir cloak seemingly assenting with his eyes, his one-time-use power finally run its course. He also dropped but only to his knees; the youth could only gasp as he breathed heavily for a second before suddenly coughing violently and dropping further down; he used his hands to grasp the ground below him as he coughed out yet more blood. He could vaguely hear the sound of her laughing in spite of her grievous wound ahead of him and he raised his scowling face upwards before slowly attempting to crawl forward to her left side.

The silvery-haired young woman turned her bruised, battered and bloodied body to face him in her light grin. "You've... grown stronger than even I have...," she grinned up at him; he stared back in his low scowl, breathing heavily from his life-threatening wound. "I c-commend you..." The fallen Field Marshal stammered out in her low chuckle, her body now limp.

Though he did not intend them, he found tears stinging at both his eyes and he widened them, shocked at his influx of emotions.

Why, he thought?

My father's murderer is finally dying, I should be happy, he thought to himself in further confusion.

"I...," he began out in mid-stammer as he hovered over her, his attempt at scowling failing in place of the wincing tears he involuntarily let fall from his eyes. "I hate you," the High Lord managed out in his cracking voice. "So much."

"I know," the fallen Field Marshal replied, a low knowing chuckle in her tone. She couldn't help but smile up at him as she watched him hover over her; the older sibling reached up with her scorched left arm and gently stroked at the tears on his cheek. "Maybe... in another life we could have been closer." She admitted, in spite of their earlier mood toward one another.

Selthris' eyes widened very briefly and, as he felt it coming, scrunched his tear-stricken eyes shut and snapped his head to the side before coughing violently.

More blood.

He was definitely finished; her attack had pierced his defences, just as much as his had hers.

Losing whatever strength remained in the rest of his young body, Selthris let out a single grunt as he dropped in a pained roll to his right, his bloody silvery head landing next to hers. The pair could only exchange gory gasps of blood and agony together as they both stared up at the castle ceiling above them.

"Selthris," he heard her call him from his side. Though he could not move his body, his eyes flitted up in her direction and he quietly listened to what could be her very last words. "If you... live through this...," her voice began raggedly; he couldn't help but cough in some attempt to laugh at her optimism. "T-Then... you must...," she started again, her voice stuttering through the wound she was given. She coughed as violently as he did; a clear sign of her near death status. "You cannot... let yourself f-fall to our clan's... sordid..."

Her breathing became more and more laboured and though Selthris wasn't long behind her, his curiosity grew and his eyes snapped in her direction; unable to do much of anything else. He waited for her to continue but when he heard her let out a seemingly final sigh, her breathing halted with it.

"I finally did it...," the youth whispered up at the ceiling, his breathing becoming similarly harder to control and his eyesight growing blurry with this revelation. "So why don't I feel...," he began lowly as he breathed in and out, his eyelids growing heavy. "Satisfied...?" He asked himself in an eventual exhale, his watery stained eyes closing as a result of his tired pain.

A sad kind of silence descended upon the throne room chamber of Naesbray Castle, leaving the pair of Vikeruce twins to their sorrowful end.