A/N: Contrary to popular belief, I am still alive. But just barely. I am sad to say that, after a few weeks, I still have not found enough time to really sit down and write a chapter. This...thing...is as close to a chapter as I could manage. It's as long as the last chapter, if anyone is wondering. I can only pray that the quality is still decent. From now on, the updates will probably be not as frequent as my past updates and the chapters will be shorter. I know, I know; I'm disappointed too.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. I only wish I did.

35) Break

The stone was hard and cold like it had been for hours. Her muscles were cramping, but she did nothing to alleviate the discomfort. She stared up into the blackness unblinkingly, sighing every so often to break the silence. The uneven beat of dripping water was all around her, but it did nothing to keep loneliness at bay. Her hands were tied to a stalagmite somewhere above her head. It was the same case with her feet, only stretched out in front of her. She had been rendered completely helpless.

She closed her eyes, but the blackness remained the same.

Lute is safe. Ewan is, light willing, recovering.

She swallowed thickly, moving the pain of her thirst down her throat.

If he doesn't recover . . . if he turns out like me . . . I will never forgive myself. Never.

She opened her eyes and sighed again, long and low, expelling all of the oxygen from her lungs. She didn't breathe for a moment, enjoying the searing ache in her chest cavity. Almost reluctantly, she drew in a breath of cool, musty air. Breathing was so easy, a subconscious movement. She only wished loving was half as easy. Love wasn't supposed to hurt.

But it did. So much.

Maybe it was why she planned on obliterating the entire peak and everything that live in, on, or around it. It was a good idea; killing most or all of the fiends would be an immense help for the humans. The possibility that she could die in the backlash only made it better. She had been contemplating the consequences for a while now, possibly more than a few hours. She might die . . . were there any downsides to that? Or she might live . . . did she want to? What if she died and Ewan awoke to a world without her? What if she lived and Ewan never recovered?

In the end, she decided it didn't matter. This struggle wasn't about her anymore, she realized. Before, when she had escaped from Zinneth, everything had centered on her. Her tentative alliance with the humans, the troubles she caused Lute and Artur, the fiends coming to attack them only to collect what was "theirs," Ewan's current state . . . it was all about her. She had caused these things to happen. Now, she saw that this shouldn't—no, wasn't—about her.

No, this was about the fiends and the humans. The fiends were King Fomortiis's minions, his loyal servants that would carry on his plan even if he could no longer be with them in a physical form. The humans—she had to call them that; she couldn't afford to have emotional attachment to these creatures—were trying to "heal" Magvel of the "plague."

However, now that she had entered the story and changed its plot, she had to erase her role in this sad drama. Things were going to end badly if she remained as she was. In order to correct the wandering plot, she had to make a few changes. Things would end happily ever after for all of them. She would make sure of it.

She would have to get out of the cavern, first. She needed to be on the surface at the center of the fiends' base. She would open the door to her locked power and let it loose. The initial wave of energy would be enough to erase those who supported the former Demon King. Their strength was next to nothing compared to the might she wielded. No one, except for Zinneth and Drengar, knew. The rest of the fiendish army was oblivious.

She found it amusing that they thought of Thalos as their leader while Zinneth held the "true power." None of them looked her way. She was just their human slave. She did everything none of them could, such as eavesdropping on commoners in the market or drunks in the tavern. She brought them information they couldn't obtain simply because of their appearance.

But that would all change very soon. She was tired of this. Tired of the hate, tired of the fighting, and tired of being used. She was a tool, she realized that, and didn't have any other purpose than being used. So what does a tool do when it no longer wanted to be used?

They break.

Her mouth pushed up into a small smile at the thought.

Breaking. She was breaking and she was taking her tormentors with her. She only needed an opportunity.

She sighed again for the umpteenth time. I'm sorry, Ewan. I made a mistake. I should have left you to die. As cruel as it sounds, I know it would have been so much easier for the both of us. We wouldn't have had to suffer if I had chosen differently. I must atone for my mistakes, Ewan. I'll make it easier for both of us. I'll make things right again, as they should be.

Kayll lied in the damp darkness and waited.

Within the hour, the Renais Army was on the move with two more allies. They left the city with a solemn but determined air about them. They realized they were taking on a challenge no one in their right minds would consider. It left more than a few of the soldiers nervous.

They were marching towards the fiends' base at Crypt Peak . . . without a real strategy.

Myrrh, Lute, Ewan, and Artur rode at the front with the nobles. They, too, were silent as they traveled. Their minds were occupied with worries and fears. Only the sound of marching feet and stamping hooves kept complete silence at bay. They traveled miles without any of them saying a single word. Only a glance or a small, fleeting smile conveyed their apprehension. They went on like that for hours, quiet and somber with the weight of the world on their shoulders. Their pace wasn't slow, but they also weren't rushing in. This speed took them through the rolling countryside and past a few small, quaint towns. It wasn't too much longer before they saw the Woods quickly approaching.

Innes was the one to break the silence at long last.

"We don't have a plan." He stated this rather calmly, like he was commenting on the weather instead of suggesting their possible doom.

Lute shook her head. "No, we do not." She replied nonchalantly. If she had pre-battle jitters about proceeding forward without any semblance of order, she certainly didn't show it.

"Um," Artur fidgeted, picking at the fraying threads of his sleeves and glancing around at them anxiously. "W—wouldn't it be better if we did?"

Innes shot him a deadpan look that nearly made the curly redhead cower.

Artur ducked his head and licked his dry lips. He couldn't remember being so nervous. The only time that came marginally close was the moment before they took on the Demon King . . . also without much of a plan. Really, their only goal was to destroy the Demon King without getting killed. He compared the two situations and brightened considerably. No one had died when they fought with Fomortiis. Maybe this would end with the same results?

"Fear not." Myrrh murmured from beside Ephraim. "These fiends pale in comparison to King Fomortiis."

Ewan smiled halfheartedly. "That's good to know."

The Manakete girl tilted her head to the side in consideration. "Although . . . there was only one Fomortiis and there are at least one hundred or more fiends this time."

Ewan's smile faded a bit, but the determined look that had taken residence in his ruby eyes remained. "We'll win. I know it. Who else will, right?"

"I'm sure everything will turn out fine, Ewan." Eirika said with a tiny smile. "I'm confident that we'll get Kayll back safe and sound."

The distance between the army and the Woods became steadily smaller. They came to a halt before the entrance and they all stared into the gloom created by the ancient trees. Looking upon the path, the soldiers experienced a moment of déjà vu; it had only been a short time ago when they had stood in the same spot.

"It feels like we were just here yesterday." Tana murmured while gazing at the immense trees bent with age.

"Fitting, isn't it?" Lute said quietly. "The place of the Demon King's demise will be the place where his subjects fall."

"Yes," Ewan nodded, taking the first step onto the tree lined path. "That is how it will end."

The others watched him, hesitating only a moment before following him into Darkling Woods. Together, they walked into the ambush.

She stirred at the sound of grating stone. She twisted her head to watch the gorgon general slither into the cavern. The snake woman seemed to glow with triumph. She watched Zinneth with a passive face, unable to muster the energy to form an expression. The fiend stood over her, a gruesome grin twisting her features.

"It is time, pet." Zinneth told her. "It is your time, Nianna."

The grimace almost felt forced as her mouth contorted at the sound of the vile name. "Whatever you are planning, Zinneth, know that I will not be a part of it."

The gorgon stroked her right limb, talons running over the scaly head absently. "You will be, Nianna; you do not have a choice."

The bound girl's gaze traveled to the serpentine head and found the eerie yellow eyes upon her. She remembered a superstition about the gorgon's headed limb. People—she wasn't sure who in particular—said that when the eyes of the head reflected your face, your time of death was soon approaching. She gazed into the vibrant yellow eyes, but could see nothing. Perhaps it meant her plan would work and she would live.

Finally, the girl's crimson eyes slid up to catch the blood-red ones above her. "I will always have a choice, Zinneth. Surely you have not forgotten?"

The spark of excitement in the monster's eyes died and the scarlet orbs became flat. "I have not forgotten, rest assured." The general said through gritted teeth. "However, I did not expect you to ever ponder that route. Would you really risk your life when you know next to nothing about the condition of your male?"

The prisoner's jaw clenched and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Do not talk about him." She hissed. "He is not my male, as you so put it. He has his own life to live and I have . . . whatever is left of mine. I can make my own decisions."

"What if you find you regret your choice?" Zinneth pondered, the angered tone loosing its strength.

The blue-violet haired female grinned unexpectedly and stared up into the darkness that was the ceiling of the cavern. "If everything goes as I have planned, I will be unable to regret anything."

The gorgon general shook her head in puzzlement. "I thought you humans valued life." She muttered. "You are a strange one, unlike any I have ever met."

"You have not met enough to say such a thing." The tool spoke with some amusement in her tone.

"True," The fiend murmured. "But I never thought you to be the self-sacrificing kind."

The girl shook her head. "Oh, I am not. I simply know when fighting is not worth the trouble."

Zinneth arched a brow in skepticism. "Oh, really? Nevertheless, even if you decide to carry out with your plan—which I doubt—there is nothing you can do about the current situation."

The captive didn't try to sound interested. "What is happening now?" She asked with a sigh.

The red eyes flared to life again with exhilaration. "An ambush." She whispered in euphoria. "The humans have just crossed into the Woods. Our forces are attacking as we speak."

The human grunted, unimpressed. "Another one?"

"It is different this time." Zinneth purred in delight.

The girl lifted one brow. "How so?"

"Because, pet," The gorgon reached down and pulled her hostage up, freeing her of the rotten ropes with one, solid yank. "I have you."

Kayll narrowed her eyes. "I will not help you." She told the fiend flatly.

Zinneth only laughed. "Oh, you will. You will, Nianna."

In a split second, everything changed. What had once been solemn silence was now frenzied noise. The path had been clear one moment and the next it was filled with fiends. It all happened so quickly. There wasn't even a moment's hesitation.

Ewan whipped out a Divine tome and began blasting away with bright bursts of Light magic. Lute kicked her horse forward whilst flipping open her trademark Fire tome. Artur rushed in, calling out the chant for his Elfire. Ephraim and Myrrh moved as one, the prince raking the Undead enemies with his Reginleif and the Manakete shifting to her dragon form to wipe out the fiends with her powerful fire. Eirika and Innes were next: the princess charging forward with her rapier while Innes fired from afar.

After that, everything erupted in chaos.

Howls, chants, grunts, cries, and moans filled the forest. Flashes of steel and bursts of magic were slowly driving the fiends back. The initial wave of mauthe doogs was long gone. The mogall and gargoyle breeds where gradually disappearing, becoming the ash and dust that now blanketed the ground. Tarvos and bael units swept in from behind, causing the Renais Army to fight back-to-back.

A gargoyle was erased from existence by Lute's Fire.

A mogall sank to the ground as a wisp of dirt; Artur turned to the next one.

A tarvos was brought to its knees by Ewan's Divine, disintegrating with an agonized cry.

A bael shrieked as Myrrh's purging fire swept over it.

Ephraim's lance speared a mogall through its enormous eye.

Eirika's sword cut down another gargoyle, hacking it nearly in half.

Innes's bolt shot clean through a tarvos and the creature bucked as it fell.

And then . . . it was over. Sudden silence washed through the area as the final pained cry ended. The soldiers straightened from their fighting stances and panted for breath. A few shot each other smiles, relieved to see that their comrades had made it through another round. L'Arachel, Natasha, and anyone else who could use healing staves rushed in to take care of the injured.

"They were expecting us." Lute muttered as she stored her tomes into her saddlebag.

Ewan shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We're still continuing."

The mage knight swung into the saddle. "I never said we wouldn't. We'll have to be more careful, that's all."

Artur stood at Lute's left side. "How many do you think we defeated?"

The lavender haired magic user pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Oh, I'd say about three dozen—the usual."

Innes, overhearing their conversation from a few yards away, spoke up. "They were planning to cut down our number when they sent that many fiends." His usual smirk appeared on his face. "I don't believe they thought about the consequences of such a decision; we've taken a good portion of their total number right here."

Lute mirrored his expression. "It only makes it that much easier for us in the end."

Artur, patting her horse's nose, looked up at Lute. "Did you notice any generals in the mix?"

"I can't say for sure as generals and captains are difficult to discern from the others. However, I believe a few captains have been decimated. But, no, I didn't see any generals." The mage knight's expression soured. "Zinneth is saving the best for last."

The copper haired magic user frowned in puzzlement. "Who exactly is Zinneth? It seems to me that she's the one behind all of this."

"Well, I . . . ah . . ." Lute trailed off, uncertainty written across her face.

"Zinneth is, indeed, behind all of this." Myrrh spoke up.

All eyes seemed to turn toward the ancient entity with a childish face.

"The gorgon general was animated when King Fomortiis was still alive." Myrrh continued. "Zinneth became the Demon King's most trusted general. While it may be true that a draco zombie is far more powerful, the gorgon is undoubtedly the most influential and persuasive. It was probably why King Fomortiis chose Zinneth to lead the reserves and gave her a piece of his soul."

There was a moment of tense silence. Then: "What?"

Myrrh looked over at the bewildered Ephraim. "King Fomortiis's soul is the only source of Dark magic strong enough to resurrect the remaining fiends." She explained. "He had to give a piece of his soul away in order for his plan to be successful. It couldn't have been a very large piece considering how difficult the battle against him was."

Innes nodded his head. "It makes sense." He glanced at the others. "If the Demon King hadn't been the monster he was, I would have admired him for his strategic skills."

"I don't care if the damn gorgon has the Demon King's damn soul." Ewan said, bristling. "I'm going to kill her anyway."

A/N: Well...was it still "good"? I hope so. Well, I can say one thing: I would not want to be Zinneth right now. She's just begging to get her tail kicked. Please leave a reivew, give me some incentive to write even if it kills me. See you...er...sometime!