Italics = Thought
I do not own Fire Emblem.
Cross published on A03
"What the hell is this?!" Panic was rising in the red head, though she disguised it with a scowl. "What did you do?!"
"Oh calm down." Grima sighed. "Did I not just say? I'm showing you my past. Not from the very beginning of course, we don't have that long."
"Fine." Selena snapped "Say I believe you. Why the hell are we in a field?"
"You've dreamt of this field all your life. Don't you want to know why?" Grima queried. "This is…was my home once. I'd theorise it being something along the lines of my memories bleeding into yours, but frankly, that sounds like horseshit. The truth is I have no idea how you are seeing this."
Without another word, Grima started to walk. A simple, easy stride someone uses when they haven't a care in the world. "Chop chop Sweetie."
Ahead of them, the land was no longer flat, spreading out before them was a truly massive lake of calm, clear water. A handful of wooden huts dotted the shoreline, making up a village. The figure by the lake looked identical to how the Grima beside appeared now, albeit with a far more genuine smile on his face as he interacted with what she assumed were his followers. He was clapping the fishermen on the shoulders and helping with their catches.
"That's…you." Selena murmured.
"That is Absalom, the Dragon of Family. Or, more correctly, the Dragon of Bonds." Grima explained. "The being I once was."
Selena ignored him, instead keeping her attention on the scene below. A small figure, wearing clothes in earthy tones of green, yellow and brown, dashed up to him. Absalom hoisted her up, placing her onto his shoulders with a laugh.
"Who's that?"
"That is my daughter. Melusine." The ancient being chuckled. "Although she went by Merry most of the time. She became the 'Divine' Mother."
"You sound like you love her. I got the impression you hated her." Selena mused aloud, resisting the urge to place her hand on her heart on lower her head in respectful reverence as she had done in Grimleal shrines as a child (and in her own private shrine in Nohr. A secret she kept from all save two, three if Grima was counted.)
"Oh I do. But I also love her. She is my daughter after all."
"It's almost creepy how you look happy."
"What? I'm not completely without feeling. And I have to be happy. I have to enjoy the good, given what you're about to see.."
"What do you mean?"
Grima shot her a sad smile. "Just watch."
The scene changed. Now the sky was dark with storm clouds, and Absalom and his followers lay dead, surrounded by a dozen men wearing what appeared to be archaic versions of the robes worn by priests of Naga. The long knives in their hands dripped blood into the soil. Cowering behind one of the homes, a young Merry watched as her father's body was unceremoniously dumped in the lake. Selena let out a gasp as the Men advanced on the huts, and a scream tore through the air, louder than the thunder and rain. Selena started to move towards Merry, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.
"You cannot help her."Grima sighed "The events you've just witnessed occurred millennia ago, you cannot change them, no matter how much you may wish to."
Selena closed her eyes, and sighed. "I know."
…And Selena kept on dreaming.
In all, the Flame Tribe had just under two hundred ready for battle. Most were Oni Savages, their family masks sent along to the Wind Tribe, who had donned simpler masks, and their maces had been fixed, cleaned and blessed. The few archers they had had been busying themselves preparing arrows, poisons and the deadly pitch for flaming arrows. The Sages, the Tribes Mages and Healers had worked through the night, finding every potion, stave and bandage they could.
Surprisingly, the mood was almost upbeat. The Flame Tribe loved a fight, and a hopeless fight meant that they could go all out. Their loved ones had fled with the Wind Tribe, and tonight, they'd all go through the rite of 'Final Night'. They'd feast and drink and fuck and brawl. Then, come the dawn, a mighty bonfire would be lit, a funeral pyre for the entire Tribe. Symbolically dead, they'd then have nothing left to lose. They could throw themselves into the fight, unburdened the usual 'rules' of warfare, completely and utterly without sin in the eyes of their faith.
Rinkah was nursing a mug of mead on her balcony when someone approached her from behind. The constant thump of metal against wood allowed her to tell which of her Tribe it was.
Agni Ironfoot.
"Uncle Agni, how are our people?" Rinkah asked coolly, placing her mug on the railing. "Are we prepared?"
"We will not go gently, Chief." The grizzled warrior replied. He had grown up alongside Rinkah's father, and had even taught most of current warriors of the Tribe. One eye was blinded, an ugly scar running through it and down her cheek. Two decades or so ago, he had lost one of his feet to frostbite. He had been caught in a snowstorm during a hunt in the mountains. He had replaced it with a solid cast iron prosthetic, earning the unimaginative nickname, 'Ironfoot'. Rinkah had offered to let him go with the rest of the Tribe, his response had, in a blunt tone, been 'No'. "I swear it."
Rinkah nodded curtly. "Good. Make sure everyone eats heartily tonight. Chances are we all die tomorrow."
"….Understood, Chief."
The old warrior departed, his foot thumping loudly as he went. Rinkah was almost glad he had chosen to stay. Such a warrior would take many others down with him.
Her thoughts turned to her family. Letting Hayato go had been the single hardest choice she'd ever had to make.
"You appear remarkably calm, Rinkah." A warm voice filled her ears. The pale haired woman's eyes flew open, and she turned, throwing herself into the arms of the man behind her.
"Father!"
Monk Teine smiled. His bushy white beard came down passed his ribcage, and his plain red robes made him look wider and fatter than he was. In actuality, most of what appeared to be fat was muscle. He'd be a monumental help in the coming battle, but as a Monk of the Flame Spirit, he was forbidden from combat, taking up a more pacifistic path.
"You are looking well." He commented. "How is my granddaughter?"
"Rhajat is fine." Rinkah sighed. "She will be safe with Fuga and Hayato. Kana too."
"The dragon girl." Teine nodded. "I know her. We've seen her in our flames."
"Dragon girl?"
"You were unaware? That girl will soar in the sky one day, with a firestorm at her back and a crown on her head."
The prophecy from so long ago made its way to the forefront of her mind now. "She won't return here, because there won't be a here to return to. That's the thing you saw.."
A sad smile crossed her fathers face. "Correct, my child."
The Flame Chief left her fathers arms. "You had me think that sending her away wa a death sentence! Eight years of keeping her confined to the Village for fear of losing her!"
"Prophecies can be interpreted many ways Rinkah."
The younger of the pair snarled. "Interpret this; I will never see you again."Without another word, she stalked off. It took five minutes for her to stop walking, reaching the Outskirts of her home. She was alone.
And for the first time in years, Flame Chief Rinkah broke down into sobs.
"That was masterfully done pet." Merry beamed as she embraced Emi, carrying her up to the living quarters and nuzzling her cheek affectionately. "You're a Royal Blade….fantastic."
"Thank you Mistress." The Archer lowered her head, and wriggled free. "Might I inquire as to what you are planning?"
"Planning? Whoever said I had a plan?" Merry smirked as she draped herself over an armchair. "Some people fight for honour, others money. Some fight because they love to kill, and others for the glory. People scheme and plot because it's fun, or because it's the easiest way to get something done."
"And you, Mistress?"
"Oh, I scheme for fun. And to kill time. Occasionally I scheme to kill people. But I had you join the Royal Blades as a mere spy. An observer reporting back everything the King and his Blades discuss. The Havenites are awfully amusing, but I'd prefer to stay hidden. It also means I can play around with the whelp's magic."
Emi's eyes widened. "What do you mean, Mistress?"
"Well someone had to make use of Anankos' magic. And having the Faceless at my beck and call isn't a bad thing. I can provide you with a way to prove your loyalty…and give Corrin the power over the faceless."
"Why give him an army?"
"Emi Emi Emi, if you wish to see someone's true character, give him power. If he had the power to control the Faceless, how would he use it? As an army? A labour force?"
Emi lowered her gaze. "I do not presume to know, Mistress. Nor do I agree with stealing the body of the Queen's father. That was you, yes?"
A light chuckle left Merry's lips. "I had to give the illusion of a leader, didn't I?"
"To what end, Mistress?"
"To keep them confused, of course." Merry smirked. "Keep the players confused, and they'll focus on what they see, and not on what you are truly up to."
"Which is?"
A dark smile crossed Merry's face now. "Careful. That is a dangerous question to ask.."
Boldly, the Archer stepped forwards. "Maybe I like danger.."
The ancient beings eyes widened a little, and she let out an amused cackle as she rose, closing the gap and caressing one of the ginger's cheeks. "Oh my, how daring.~"
Seeing her chance, Emi brushed her lips against Merry's, and tasted fire, spices, strawberries and the first frost of winter. When Merry, momentarily shocked that the usually near sycophantic woman had actually kissed her, didn't resist, Emi leant in for another.
And another.
And another...
I had expected to be posting this on the 16th, to mark a year since the first chapter of Darkworlds was posted. But stalling posting something isn't me, so here we go. I do hope you enjoy.
Next, we start the Flame Tribe vs Imperialists Arc.
I do hope you enjoyed, and have a nice day.
(Oh, and I'd love to hear how you guys interpret Tiene's vision of Kana)
