Chapter Thirty-Five: Regicide
Imperfect Knight: Cordelia
Swirling above the raging battle below, I could only spare a few seconds to worry about the others, before re-engaging the woman who pursued Sumia and I. Banking wide, I mumbled the words, hurling yet another fireball that the woman swatted aside, although it provided just enough distraction for Sumia to swoop back up, and out of danger.
For a moment, the three of us circled, Sumia and I catching our breath, and our enemy seeming content to toy with us. Black lightning and swirling shadows played around her hand, a spell unlike anything I had seen before, and worse utterly unaffected by anything Sumia or I could cast, which mean that either this woman simply outclassed us in magical power, or her spell exhibited some property unknown to me. Given the way she kept her distance, and bore no other weapon, I suspected the later, or that if we could get close enough to strike with melee weapon the battle might turn in our favor.
Conjuring another fireball with a word, I watched her attention snap to me, shadowy lightning erupting from her upraised palm. Urging my pegasus to dive, I tossed my spell, already creating two more, which I aimed not at the woman, but towards her mount. Cowardly as it might have been to kill someone's mount in aerial combat, with a Grimeal I didn't care. They lived for such tactics, and while stooping to their level was not laudable, in a game that ended with my life or hers, I would take my own by whatever means needed.
Seeing the danger, the woman jerked her mount upwards, letting my spells sail harmlessly below. I saw her lips move, halfway into her spell, before bolt of lightning struck the woman squarely in the side. Wards flared to life, absorbing whatever damage the spell might have done, but the distraction allowed me to gain altitude and distance. As I reoriented, I wracked my brain for a plan that might stand a chance of working, before flashing a series of hand-signals to Sumia as we dove past each other during the next exchange of spell-fire. I didn't have time to see if I she saw or acknowledged them, pulling up, and circling wide to avoid another spell.
Whether she saw or not, four Wyverns dove upon us as we separated, brandishing axes. One smashed handle first into my left shoulder, jerking me awkwardly in the saddle, and almost distracting me so badly that I didn't manage to pull away from the Wyvern rising from below.
"Fire!" Four inches across, and tinged red orange, a spear of flame leapt from my palm, striking the rider squarely in the chest, carrying on into their mount. Above the chaos of battle, a scream rang out, and I saw a Wyvern peel away, blood gushing from gaping wounds on its left side, before my vision was consumed by another orb of black shadow and lightning.
Rolling precariously to the right, I summoned further magic, twin spikes of fire catching nothing but air as the Plegians began to realize the danger, peeling back from a close confronation. Sumia remained locked in battle with two wyverns, but as I watched, a javelin struck one rider in the gut, and the other dove for safety when Sumia turned to him.
"We can't keep this up." Unlike Robin, Miriel or Ricken, neither Sumia or I could hurl magic without consequences. Exhaustion set in slowly, and a battle like this required our reflexes to be sharp. Somewhere below, a dragon roared, and a thunderclap rang, bringing total silence to the fighting below. I risked a single glance.
The other Shepherds now occupied to the courtyard, surrounded by Risen. On the promontory, Robin and Chrom dueled Gangrel, swords and magic flashing in the midday sun. I couldn't see the Exalt, and for a moment, I felt the irrational thrill of worry that despite everything she had died. Shaking that off, I turned my attention back to our battle.
Fully a dozen Wyvern's circled the woman, and a further three separated Sumia and I. Even from a distance, I could see our enemies smirk, a taunting smile almost daring me to try and survive. The same smirk, I knew, from Validar, just before my entire world shattered into nothing but pain and death and misery. I already determined that would never happen again.
Across the sky, Sumia and I exchanged a long look. I could see her worry, and I did my best of smile reassuringly even the odds of her seeing it were slim.
You will fail, Girl. Grima cackled, sheer unadulterated joy rolling off his words.
"Fuck off." Magic pooled in my fingers, and I took a long slow breath to steady my racing heart. Screams of pain and death rose from the field below, punctuated by draconic roars. "You are not my God." Twisting away from another Plegia axe, my pegasus tossed his head, and I leaned forwards running a hand through his mane. "Almost done, I promise." Or so I hoped.
By some unspoken signal, Sumia and I acted. Wind and Fire collided over the three Wyvern's between us, driving them downwards, the worst position for a flyer to be in. I could see the riders twisting in their saddles, shouting for their mounts to pull up, even as magic and javelins took their lives. Side by side, we circled, straight into another engagement.
Ducking beneath a thrown axe, I awkwardly hurled a javelin in return forcing the rider to duck, and leaving him open to a scythe of Wind. A second javelin, followed by a fireball took another Wyvern down, before we were close enough to melee engagement, and only reflex and instincts kept me safe.
Ripping a rider from his saddle, I twirled my spear, as my Pegasus did a full roll, smashing the butt end into the chest of another, who had stood in the saddle to strike. Without time to worry about his survival, I scored a quick cut to the axe arm of another as we leveled out. Of the initial dozen, nine were dead, one injured, and the final two were running. Blood dripped from Sumia's left arm, and I could feel something wet against my chest, but we survived, free to once again face down the other Pegasus riding woman.
Her eyes were narrowed, magic blazing stronger than ever. We hung, surveying each other, breath coming in ragged gasps, before a tremendous shout rose from the fighting below, and the Grimeal woman jerked her mount, diving away from our duel without further ado.
Prince of Ylisse: Chrom
Everything happened in an instant. Emm started to fall, Gangrel began to snarl in rage, and Robin struck. Her magic jumped forth, sending the Mad King flying across the plateau, the hellish orange runes on her cloak flaring to life, hood falling away to reveal the sort of expression I never saw on Robin before.
"I think," A sword of black shadowy magic appeared in her hand, "That is enough of this charade." While I found the Grimeal guise Robin adopted terrifying, this Robin was worse. Her expression twisted in a way I'd never seen before, rage set in her jaw, as sparks of black clouded over her eyes. I'd only ever seen something like that once before, when Gri destroyed Validar, and our eyes met for a single moment before she vanished in a flash of lightning, and I would never forget the fact that her usual emotionless grey vanished into a pit of darkness.
"About time." Pulling my own sword free, I couldn't help but lament that lack of Falchion, even if I knew Robin had been right about bringing it. Still, any conventional blade felt inadequate in my hands, when compared to a weapon created by the Divine Dragon herself.
"Treachery!" Gangrel howled, drawing his Levin Blade, and hurling the contained lightning. Contemptuously, Robin swatted it aside, throwing a gesturing towards the two guards at the doorway back into the castle, standing in stupefied shock.
"Grima." Robin intoned, and neither of them could so much as cry out before they slumped, dead. Snarling Gangrel, leapt forwards to engage Robin with a blade. Stepping up, I caught his weapon, turning the point into the dirt and striking back upwards. Catching nothing but air as Gangrel scampered back, I put Robin and her slaughter of the arriving soldiers out of mind. The Mad King's eyes narrowed as we stared each other down.
"Clever, little prince!" Spit and blood flew from his lips along with the words. "Now you can die just as your pathetic sister did!" Our blades clashed, sparks of lightning flying off his, and I found myself sliding backwards, the unsure footing betraying me as much as physical strength did. Gangrel, appearing to sense the same thing, jerked back, and I stumbled forwards, only to be greeted by a fist, square in the nose.
Nothing about the yelp of pain was dignified, and Robin filled the gap in my defense with another bolt of lightning, leaving Gangrel unable to capitalize on his opening, as he needed to dive for cover instead. Robin returned her attention to the new arrivals, and I tried to ignore the stinging pain in my face, probably from a broken nose, and set my guard once again. Gangrel pounced, feinting towards my legs, before delivering throwing the actual strike towards my left shoulder. Dodging away, I tried my own feint, turning a blow towards Gangrel's wrist into a thrust, which scored in a thing cut across his shoulder, but otherwise doing very little.
Somewhere in the background a dragon roared, and the clash of battle continued ringing up from below.
"What do you plan to achieve, little prince?" Gangrel sneered, doing a few tricks with his blade as we stared each other down. "What will my head achieve hm…? When you brandish my head from the end of your blade, what will you gain? What will you precious sister think?"
Something snapped, rage flooding my veins, and I threw myself at the Mad King with an incoherent cry. Swords clashed in a spray of sparks, he staggered from the force of the blow, turning my next into the dirt just as I had at the beginning of fight. Undeterred, I continued to press forwards. Strike after strike turned aside, and even the two times I came within a hair's breadth of drawing blood, Gangrel slipped to the side, and my blade caught air. As this happened for a third time, Gangrel jumped forwards, inside my guard. His first punch caught me in the chin, and I staggered, unable to recover in time to prevent him from sweeping my feet out from under me. Twisting as I fell, I could see Robin engaged in a brutal duel with further Plegian guards, her back turned, and unable to assist.
"Pathetic!" Gangrel slammed into my back before I could regain my feet, delivering another blow to the back of my head, sending stars dancing across my vision. "Are you done little prince? Ready to admit your defeat?" Any attempt to struggle, resulted in another blow. Gangrel's weight settled, and he leaned down, voice dropping to a whisper. "Are you ready to join your sister, broken and dead at my feet?"
"Like hell." Something burned, white hot, against my shoulder, and a presence brushed across my thoughts.
It is not yet your time. Ethereal amusement dripped from the otherworldly voice. The Fell Dragon's machinations shall not prevail this day.
"GRIMA!" Robin's incantation shattered the quiet of my mind, and from the corner of my eye, I watched my friend and tactician sweep her hand, threads of black magic racing out to snare the throats of Plegian soldiers. Those soldiers thrashed, clutching feebly for some means with which to free themselves, before slumping, lifeless.
Ware the Fellblood, Warrior. The voice returned, stronger now. Danger lingers where you least expect it… The heat in my shoulder reached a fevered pitch, as Robin turned, shadowy blade gripped tight.
"Ah-ah-ah!" Gangrel cackled. "One twitch, and he dies!" Nothing in Robin's expression changed. Stoney cold, lips set in a chilled line, purple hair streaming in the outwash of her magic, she cut an imposing sight, only made worse by the small pile of corpses behind her. When she said that she would be donning the guise of a Grimeal Priestess, I didn't expect that to carry into our fight with Gangrel, but seeing it now, I could only hope that Gangrel found her quite as intimidating as I did. "Or is that what you want Priestess? His head upon my blade?"
"Step aside, worm." Deep, rumbling, the words coming from Robin's mouth were not her own, or at least, not using her voice. Even at her most overwrought, Robin didn't sound like that.
She speaks with the voice of Grima. The voice in my head explained. It is in her blood, her magic. What? I couldn't claim to understand magic very well, I left that to Robin and those who could use it, but I felt confident in my assertion that just because Robin could use Grima's magic that didn't' mean she could channel the Fell Dragon himself. Perhaps Warrior. None the less, be wary. Fellblood is…untrustworthy.
"The Ylissean Prince is mine." Further, Robin warned me ahead of time that she might well prove her Grimeal disguise to be authentic, either when challenged or against Gangrel, as part of some plan that at the time, I didn't care about, but I made a note to ask her about later, and apparently this was the time to do that.
Gangrel cackled, and I felt his weight shift, to do…something. The heat in my shoulder grew and grew, hot enough to be blindingly painful.
"Thoron." I felt the energy on the spell and heard Gangrel's scream of pain. Rolling, I found Robin standing over me, extending a hand. "Keep your head on straight?" Her voice returned to normal, eyes twinkling with just a small hint of amusement. "Don't give him what he wants Chrom, and we'll be fine." I let her pull me up, shivering at the touch. Even though her glove, Robin felt cold.
"You're right…" I went to reach for my blade when a hand on my shoulder stopped me. Turning, I gapped as Robin offered me the hilt of Falchion. "How-!"
"Just appeared out of thin air right in my face. Guessing Naga recognized you need or something." She shrugged, the dancing magic in her eyes flaring as I accepted the weapon. "Now. What do you say we put an end to this?" A twirl of her wrist conjured her shadowy blade once again, and electricity charged the air. Warmth filled my veins, comforting and somehow intimately familiar. "Surrender, Gangrel. We are agreed that your use it at its end."
"Treachery!" He howled, again, charging forwards without any semblance of strategy.
Falchion flashed white as our blades clashed, his skittering to the side, leaving a wide opening for me to turn a strike at his shoulder, this time, finding my mark. Blood chased the tip of Falchion as I stepped back, and Gangrel snarled in rage, bolts of lightning jumping from his blade as he attacked. This time Robin met him, letting his blade once again ricochet off hers, and pressing forwards with a series of sharp precise strikes that Gangrel dodged without any hope to retaliated. With each step, he backed towards the edge of the cliff, and as Robin spun back, I ducked under her blade, joining the battle once again.
-FE:DUL-
The failure of the Plegian King to re-emerge, coupled with the Exalt's apparent sacrifice broke the Plegian army. Those few who still fought were overwhelmed, superior skill, and a galvanized resolve to find Emmeryn lending the Shepherds a formidable will in battle that quite simply the shell-shocked Plegian Army could not withhold.
When the Grimeal raised the dead they wavered, but did not break, continuing to advance, slowly and purposefully. High above them, Pegasi and Wyvern's dueled, a secondary battle to the whirlwind of magic and death the surrounded Cordelia, Sumia, and Aversa.
All held their breath as lightning and sparks flew from the cliff where Gangrel stood, the Plegians to know the fate of their King, the Shepherds knowing the battle that took place outside of their control. Gangrel stepped into view, fighting with frenetic energy in a vain attempt to preserve his own life against the figure of a Grimeal Priestess, shadowy blade weaving in and out of Gangrel's defenses. When Chrom ducked into the battle, Falchion blazing in his palm, a great roar rose up from the Ylissean ranks, only to redouble when their Prince swatted aside a blow and plunged his blade into Gangrel's chest.
In a single sharp move, he yanked the blade free, leaving the Plegian King swaying on his feet. From behind the Ylissean Prince, the Grimeal Priestess appeared, glaring down at Gangrel
An amplified voice rang out, carrying the proclamation to the assembled crowd and armies alike. "Goodbye, Gangrel, King of Plegia. So ends your reign of terror." And so, the people of Plegia, and soldiers of Ylisse watched the cloaked woman raise her blade and finish what the Ylissean Prince began, striking the Mad King's head from his shoulders, and letting both body and head topple from the cliff side. With a swirl of their cloak, the woman turned, and vanished into the castle.
For several seconds, no one dared to move or breathe. Then, the Ylissean Prince stepped up Falchion no longer in hand, an oddly somber air to him.
"Shepherds. Prepare to return to Ylisse. There will be no more fighting." Everyone could hear the deep breath he took. "People of Plegia…Ylisse did not come here to conquer, or even desire this war. We never wanted war." No jeers or mocking shouts rose to greet that declaration, the shock of the events hanging over both the Plegian people. "I am not, and will never be my sister…she was a far better ruler than I will ever be. However, this," He gestured broadly to the battlefield, "This ends here and now." A rumble from the crowd could be heard, but he kept going. "Ylisse will do what it can to help Plegian rebuild, both from this war, and the last." And all went dead silent. Those with sharp eyes could just see the self-deprecating smile on the Prince, now Exalt's face. "Leaving Plegia to rot while Ylisse thrives serves no one, my sister taught me that much. I'm not going to promise this will be easy, but it will be done." His voice cracked. "I refuse to let her…her sacrifice be in vain."
AN: And done! Gangrel is dead! Huzzah! Only took me the length of your average novel to do it, and we've still got Valm, and then to actually finish the story, with Grima. In theory, that'll only take another…two-hundred and sixty-thousand words or something stupid. Either way, we'll see when we get there.
I'm sure this ending is going to feel anticlimactic to some, and I will admit I did consider having a four-thousand-word epic battle between Chrom, Robin and Gangrel, but I don't really care for those kinds of battles, to be honest, and it doesn't really make a whole lot of sense in context. Chrom isn't a super human badass, and while Robin's powerful, she's not either. A fight between them and Gangrel is going to be relatively short and violent, not a long protracted affair. Besides that, Gangrel is a madman, and not exactly prone to rationality. I would thus argue that as a warrior he's not exceptionally competent, meaning that someone like Chrom who is (when his head is on straight) a much more effective warrior.
I'm undecided on if there will one or two Interlude chapters before we move on to Valm's storyline. One chapter will be much longer, something on the order of ten or twelve thousand words, or two chapters that are about normal length. Then I think there's going to be a break week for this story to give me to time to get ahead. That week will probably have another fire emblem story, but that remains to be entirely seen.
I'm out of thinks to say, I believe, so without further ado...
Questions, comments, concerns, and reviews are always appreciated.
The next chapter is available at /www . p(atreon) . c(om)/soulmuse [without the stupid formatting]. Otherwise, I will see you next week.