No Longer Alone
Well, the reviews count kind of fell off a cliff for the last chapter. I personally hope that it was a one off thing, but hey! I broke the 300 hundred reviews barrier! That's not half bad.
As a sidenote, if you're dissatisfied with a particular chapter (or a part of it or… whatever), I'd much rather you told me instead of not saying anything, since that way I'll know where I went wrong and how to fix it instead of being left in the dark and wondering if people like my work or not.
Well, that's enough rambling from me. This chapter's coming out pretty fast from the last one – I guess it's because of a bit more free time than usual.
I hope all you readers enjoy this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"Oh, Amelia! There you are!"
Raising her head at the sudden remark, she twisted in her seat to look behind her. After they had set out she'd decided that she'd might as well get a bit more practice riding the warhorse. Not that she believed that she'd be ready for any sort of mounted combat by the time they reached Renais, but it was a start.
As she did so, though, she silently wondered how Franz could afford to sit like that for ten minutes at a stretch, never mind the hours that their longer journeys demanded.
In any case, she caught sight of Ewan waving happily to her as he skipped through the marching formations in an attempt to catch up to her. With a shake of her head, she dismounted – she was getting better at it, her foot only got caught for less than three seconds – and landed rather heavily on the ground next to him.
"Hi, Ewan. Didn't see you since the battle for Jehenna." She nodded. "Franz told me you fended off Valter for me. I'm sorry it took so long, but… thanks."
"No big deal." Ewan shrugged, dismissing the matter. "You'd have done the same. Anyone would. But you're right – I wasn't hanging around much after the fight. That's because I met someone I want to introduce you to."
"Oh?" Amelia blinked. "One of your mercenary friends? I heard along the grapevine that Lord Innes met up with a troupe…"
"Yeah, sort of." Ewan glanced back, as did Amelia, and for the first time she noticed another flash of red making its way through the soldiers. As it neared, it became recognizable as the shape of a woman. Her hair was of a darker shade than Ewan's, her movements lithe and graceful, flowing through crowd as the people were no more substantial than vapour.
What also caught Amelia's eye were the tight, form fitting clothes that left very little to the imagination. She understood the concept of mages and the Pegasus knights wearing little or no armour for ease of movement, but this certainly didn't fit any concept of a mercenary that she knew.
"Ewan!" The woman shook her head as she neared him, a disapproving tone in her voice. "You've learnt nothing from your journey on your own, I see. Still running out all over the place, leaving others to clean up after you."
Ewan sighed good-naturedly and raised his hand to indicate Amelia. "Sis, this is Amelia, the girl I told you about. Amelia, this is Tethys, my sister."
"A pleasure meeting you, my dear." Tethys somehow managed to perform a brief curtsey while the three of them continued walking along the wide path. "Ewan's told me quite a bit about you since we had the opportunity to meet up. Thanks for taking care of him while I wasn't around. I hope he wasn't too much of a nuisance." The tugging at the corners of her mouth betrayed her gentle teasing of her brother
"S – sis!" Ewan sputtered. "That's not how it happened! At all!"
"Meaning you took care of me?" Amelia questioned with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
Ewan faces took on several different expressions in improbably short time before he settled on a flush coming to his cheeks. "Why did I think introducing the two of you would be a good idea?" He muttered to himself.
"It's a mystery." Amelia turned to Tethys. "Sorry I haven't introduced myself. My name's Amelia. I'm a soldier of…" Suddenly, Amelia realized that she no longer knew which country she considered herself a soldier of. Grado was out, of course, and this was technically the Frelian army, but… well, could she be counted as Renaitian soldier? She shook her head, dispelling those thoughts. "A soldier serving under Lord Ephraim." She corrected.
"Charmed." Tethys gave her a warm smile before her head tilted to the side a bit, as if studying Amelia. "Hmm…"
Amelia glanced down at herself, wondering if she'd gotten a food stain on her clothes somewhere. "Hmm… what?" She ventured.
"No, it's just…" She tapped her chin speculatively. "You've some sort of an aura about you. Some kind of… sadness."
"S – sadness?" Amelia stammered. "I…" Tethys' face creased slightly.
"Amelia, would you mind saying, 'Simon picked a peck of pickled peppers', please?" Tethys' face was serious now. Out of the corner of mind, Amelia noted that Ewan was staring at the both of them with a curious expression on her face and she forced down the impulse to ask what the request was for.
"Simon picked a peck of pickled peppers." She repeated, trying to pronounce each word carefully. As she finished the line, Tethys nodded.
"I thought so. You're from the northern border region of Grado, aren't you?"
"H – how did you – I mean, yes, I am, but how-?"
"Your accent." Tethys replied. "It's pretty distinct – at least to those who've got the ears for it."
"O – oh." Amelia's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, you're right. I'm from Grado. In fact, I used to be a soldier there."
Tethys' voice was low. "And that's why you're sad. You're worried about it all… and about having to fight against your countrymen."
Amelia made no response.
Abruptly there was someone calling Tethys' name, and she glanced behind. "All right, I'll be there." She turned back to the lancer. "Chin up, Amelia. It's a poor situation, I'll admit, but it should be over soon."
Amelia managed a smile at Tethys before the dancer turned and headed back into the throng. Meanwhile, Ewan sidled up next to her.
"Your sister's… something else." Amelia managed.
"Well, she works as a fortune teller on the side – a lot of it is learning to read the people who come in before they do or say anything, so she's good at that sort of thing. And as a member of our mercenary band, she's been around a lot, so that's probably how she recognized your accent." Ewan glanced up. "If I asked you how you're holding up, would I be retreading ground that Franz's already been through?"
"Huh?"
"I mean… I actually wanted to introduce sis to you earlier – yesterday, but when I went to the courtyard to find you, it seems you were in a pretty intense heart to heart with him." A flash of mischief danced through his eyes. "The hug was what really cued me in that it was supposed to be a private affair, although you could've picked a better spot than the middle of the courtyard."
Amelia sighed and ducked her head. "I'll make a note of it, thanks."
"I live to please." Ewan said drily. "By the way, we-"
Whatever Ewan was planning to say, Amelia never got to hear it. At that moment, a sudden hush descended upon the front lines of the army, quickly spreading through the ranks as the march ground to a stop.
Figuring that her horse would give her enough of a height boost to see what was going on, she hastily clambered up her horse, thankful for once of his great height.
As she finally succeeded in raising her vision above the row of heads, she caught sight of an abandoned, burning husk of a homestead, and two dozen more skeletons of what had once been buildings behind it, all smouldering, with black ash drifting through the ruins.
"It was probably a bandit attack." Franz recounted morosely as he stared at the ground. As part of the team that Ephraim had sent in to search for clues and survivors, his clothes now bore the faint stench of smoke that refused to go away. "We found a couple of weapons – lousy quality. The Grado army wouldn't have fielded such things."
"Well, what about the fiends?" Ewan questioned. The knight shook his head as he mentally replayed all the evidence they had gathered. "Some of the smarter ones used weapons, right?"
"None of the standard signs of their attacks – the most common fiend type are the Revenants and Entombed, and their claws always bear a distinctive tearing patterns. None of that here."
Amelia swallowed. "But… bandits… they usually…" She shook her head. "They usually don't slaughter. They strike quickly, grab whatever valuables they can, and leave before the knights can show up." A twinge of understanding entered Franz's mind – she'd probably be basing this on her own experience with them all those years ago… He gave her a sympathetic glance, an act made surprisingly more difficult by how low he himself felt just then.
"Right. No survivors… like now… it usually doesn't happen like that." Even the normally determined Ross seemed morose now. Then again, the cavalier vaguely recalled hearing that his mother had been lost to the bandits, so it wasn't any surprise that he too felt the blow harshly.
"That's because most of the time, they actually have to worry about knights showing up." Forde spoke up for the first time. "But ever since Sir Orson took over, the bandits have realized they can raid with impunity." There was a cold glint in his eyes, one Franz could only ever remember having seen once – the night they had received news of their father's death.
"Sir Orson." He muttered. "Grado gave him Renais as a reward for his… services, didn't they? He hasn't done anything for the people ever since he was put in charge of the place. Why? Does he want the whole country to fall into ruin?"
"Some reward." Ross spat. "If he keeps letting them go on like this, pretty soon there won't be any country left. You'd think that if he was willing to sell out for a country he'd take better care of it."
Franz closed his eyes and rubbed them. Off to the side of his eye, he caught the flash of white robes. Even with the pressing need to remove Sir Orson from power as quickly as possible, Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika had determined that they had to do something to lay the souls here to rest. Accordingly, the priests and clerics of the army were now hurrying to prepare a ceremony to commend the spirits of the victims to the everlasting.
He watched their work for a while – noting absently that ever since Joshua had reunited with Natasha he'd spent nearly every waking moment in her vicinity and that now was no exception – but then he had to turn away, walking towards the perimeter of the camp they'd established for the night, feeling the churning in his gut.
Even as he watched the orange glow of the sun sinking slowly towards the horizon as the amber glow slowly began to fade to the deep blues of nights, he couldn't help thinking about the villages he'd saved from the bandit raid way back when they had first started on their journey towards Renvall. Despite his exhaustion, he'd been elated that he had managed to protect the populace.
"Hey." At the sound of Amelia's voice, he half-turned to watch her approach. Even through the thickening gloom of dusk, he could see the concerned expression on her face. "Are you okay?"
He shrugged. "About as well as can be expected." He paused. "I'd have thought you'd be with Neimi – she hasn't reacted well to the reminders of bandit attacks." He briefly recounted her tale of having lost the rest of her family and friends to raiders.
"Yeah, I know." She replied. "But you're not taking it so well either. And Neimi – well, she's got Colm. He's with her right now, actually." Her voice softened. "I'd feel like I was intruding if I went to talk to her."
The knight managed a brief smile. "I guess so." He turned away to continue to stare into the gloomy land before him as Amelia came up beside him. At such a close distance, he could clearly see the pain in her eyes. So many of them had suffered losses to the bandits before – this just bought the agony home again.
He was silent for a long while. "I'm a knight of Renais." He finally said softly.
"Of course you are." Amelia said as she stood by his side, watching the darkness as well. "And a fine one, too."
"And a knight… a knight swears a vow." He cast his gaze over the land – now he could see the faintest pinpricks of light that marked other outposts and villages, all part of the land he called home. "A vow to serve his king... and his country." He closed his eyes and let out his breath in a long deep sigh. "And yet I couldn't do anything to protect the people here. How many of them died wondering where the knights were? Where the soldiers who had sworn to protect them were?"
"Hey." Amelia's voice was sharper than he had expected, and he opened his eyes to look her in the face. Her green eyes bore a steady determination in them as she gazed at him. "They were – no, you were on a campaign taking you all over the continent, trying to stop the Emperor and the fiends from overrunning the whole world. You think things would be any better if you camped yourself in front of the village gates and drew your sword at every threat that came by? Franz, you can't be everywhere at once."
He shook his head. "I have a responsibility to these people-"
"And you fulfilled it. By fighting to free this land – by fighting to overthrow Emperor Vigarde and Prince Lyon and whoever else is trying to destroy the Sacred Stones. Are you seriously claiming you shirked your responsibility at any one point?"
He clenched his fist. "Tell that to the people of Amhaus." He spat out.
Smack.
It took a moment for his cheek to feel the sting, and he gazed with confused eyes at Amelia. She shook her hand once, shaking the sting of the slap away, and sighed.
"Someone I look up to very much told me yesterday that I shouldn't beat myself up over things that I can't change, that I shouldn't insist on making myself feel worse than I already do." She looked up to him. "I think that applies here, don't you?"
"…" Franz gazed up at the night sky, one hand reaching up to massage his sore cheek. "Did he also tell you how much he wished that this stupid war would end, and that we could all focus our energy on rebuilding?"
"Come to think of it, he did say something to that effect."
Silence descended upon the two of them for several minutes. Then Franz looked behind him.
"The vigil should be starting soon. Shall we head back?"
Amelia nodded wordlessly, and the two of them turned back towards the camp, the centre marked for once by the soft glow of candles instead of the roaring flame of a campfire.
The deeper Franz journeyed into Renais, the more the devastation of the land became apparent.
The populace – well, there was no kind way to put it – they were living in fear. Bandit raids, from what the knights could discern, were a daily occurrence – at least one town somewhere was hit, crops, tools, and sometimes people carried away, never to be seen again.
Land trade had ground to a standstill – none of the Carcino merchants dared send their goods through the land without a guard. Of course that meant that the bandits who had hitherto preyed upon the slow caravans were now turning their attention to the villages as well.
And of course, all over the land, roaming in wild packs, were the Fiends. Attacking indiscriminately, signs of their presence manifested themselves in bloody trails, ruined villages, and corpses piled up across the countryside.
Prince Ephraim bore this as stoically as he ever did, his face seemingly carved from stone whenever he came across yet another sign of the country's decay. Princess Eirika was just as silent, but her face was a mask of absolute agony. Once he'd noticed Tana having to support her friend as they came across another destroyed settlement.
Daily they continued their trek across the realm, and yet no challenge from Sir Orson. No word of him mobilizing his forces to meet them in battle. All the news they received simply pointed to one thing – that he was holed up in the Castle, doing nobody knew what.
During one of their increasingly infrequent rest stops, Franz settled himself by the roadside, drinking slowly from his water skin. A moment later, Amelia settled himself beside him.
"I wish you could have seen Renais in its unspoiled state." He said softly. "Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still envision a land that seemed so vibrant… so alive. And now the very dirt and soil seem to be rotting." He glanced down at the yellowing grass. "It's like the Fiend's presence is destroying the very earth."
"Especially without the power of the Stones to counter all this." Amelia rested her gaze on the mountains in the distance. "I've never seen Renais before, but it still holds enough beauty for me to realize that it must have been a wonderful place once. I guess in some ways it just makes everything hurt even more."
"So even when we defeat Sir Orson, it won't be over." Franz said morosely. "Even when we reclaim Renais, we'll still have to set out again, hunt down the source of the Fiends." He laughed, briefly and without humour. "The past few fights I kept thinking, 'This is it. This is the big one. Get through this and maybe it'll finally end'. But now… now I just don't know anymore."
He hung his head, feeling his forehead rest against his stained trousers. A moment later, he felt a hand covering his and grasping it supportively. He looked up, catching Amelia as she gave him a smile.
"Chin up, Sir Franz, brave knight of Renais." She said softly. "We've made it this far together, and we'll make it through whatever else lies ahead. Even if there's still a long way to go – every step we take is one step closer to our goal, isn't it?" She paused. "A land at peace again. We'll get there one day."
He let out a breath through his mouth, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out his eyes. Then he smiled slowly. "Yeah, you're right. We will."
He stood, taking the hand Amelia offered him as the call to resume the march was sounded. By his estimate, there would be one more day until they reached the Capital.
Sir Orson… He thought as he continued plodding steadily forward. Your reign is over.
(X)
From the vantage point atop her horse, Amelia kept watch over Franz as they continued their journey.
She knew that he wasn't usually as mopey as he was right now – the shock of coming back to a devastated homeland must have been immensely trying for him. Briefly, she wondered about the other knights that called Renais their home as well. Were they holding up as well as Franz?
Too, she wondered if how he was feeling right now was in any way comparable to her own aching grief about fighting against Grado. Both of them were thrown into situations where their beloved homelands had been ruined – in different ways, perhaps, but ruined all the same – by people who apparently cared for nothing more than their own personal gain.
She rubbed at her eyes, a rueful expression on her face. Franz had always been there for her in her lowest moments, whenever she needed someone to talk to or a shoulder to lean on. Now it was her turn to support him, and she swore to herself that she wasn't going to let Franz down.
Raising her eyes, she caught sight of another stone citadel in the distance, and for a moment she wondered at the feeling of déjà vu that she received. It was similar enough to the Grad Capital that for a moment she thought she was back there again, about to storm it.
Get a grip. She told herself. There can't be that many soldiers here, and the Grad Castle was always the most solid fortress on Magvel. Assaulting this won't prove anywhere as difficult.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that all the troops that hailed from Renais were now moving forward to the front of their army. Lord Ephraim continued staring at the bastion for some time, and silently Amelia wondered what he was thinking at that moment.
Then he raised his arm and swung it forward in a chopping motion.
All units, advance.
Chapter End
Woo, pretty Franz-centric.
Thanks for reading, please review.