"Lord Motonari!"
The Greenleafer's eyes drifted up from the haze of history that was sprawled out beneath him, images of the written word being displaced with one of Oichi - against a slowly declining sun - running into the main camp. Her feet ground to a halt the moment her eyes caught Tadashi's figure; as the Auroran was still unconscious, his Umbreon took it upon itself to meet her gaze. Motonari blinked when he realized that Tadashi had slumped forward, head downturned at a decidedly uncomfortable angle. The Dragnovian's eyes turned to him, and he only offered a disarming smile in turn.
"Let him have his rest."
Tadashi issued an objection with a groggy groan, a shaky hand going to massage the nape of his neck as he blinked back into consciousness. His hand moved down from the neck to the back of the shoulder that had nearly been severed by Tadakatsu - a stifled cry cut off any coherent words. Oichi was at his side within a second.
"Oichi, I..." he began to protest, but quickly found himself devoid of elocution in the face of her glare; the intensity of which made the pain shooting up his arm seem inconsequential.
"Nearly got yourself killed!" hearing Oichi growl frightened Tadashi more than the prospect of Tadakatsu's spear ever could.
"I knew what I was doing," her hand wrapped itself around his wrist in response, the simple motion enough for his wound to protest. Tadashi maintained his mien, unwilling to show any pain.
"So do I, and-"
"Lady Oichi, I'm afraid I have little idea myself," Motonari did not give a subtle reprimand, Oichi thought, but it was a gracious one. She exhaled, almost sheepishly, shoulders sagging and face melting back into its usual passivity as she turned to face the phlegmatic Greenleafer. "Would you be so kind as to tell me the status of the front? I'm afraid I've been indisposed."
"Lord Shingen's negotiated the surrender of Valora," the girl breathed out, auburn ponytail swinging with the smallest shake of her head. Motonari and Tadashi both understood it was self-effacing.
"We should join up with the others, then," Motonari said, soft voice managing to project an air of finality as he stood. Oichi nodded and looked back to Tadashi, face softening and holding out a hand. He slipped his good hand into it, staggering upwards. Oichi frowned when she caught the split-second flinch, and squared her shoulders as she let Tadashi lean on her, slowly following Motonari's steps towards their conquest.
"With Valora ours - and undoubtedly Spectra with it - all that remains is Nixtorm," Motonari, watching the sunset from the vantage of Valora's balcony, found himself musing. "Then the noose will be complete."
He turned away from the dying daylight, looking back into the uppermost room in the castle; Valora's throne room, where Aurora's Warlord could sit regal while he attempted to dodge Oichi's attempts to examine him. Tadashi had given up the ghost when she pulled hard enough on his wrist to force him to muzzle a cry; now he was sitting, shirtless, with Oichi applying salve to a cut he hadn't even been aware of.
"I know I can't convince you to stop," she said, trying to avoid staring at his musculature. "But at least let me fix you when it comes to this."
The Auroran nodded wordlessly, lifting up his arm, barely wincing as it settled at a crooked angle. Motonari watched as Oichi wrapped one hand around a bicep and rested the other against his shoulder; the pop that followed as Tadashi's shoulder was fully reset echoed throughout the room. The Auroran just exhaled breathlessly, rolling his shoulder before slipping his tunic back on. Feeling Motonari's shadow-covered gaze upon him, the Auroran angled his head to meet the mossy man. The Greenleafer's response was for his gaze to wordlessly shift to Oichi, the subdued motion as fleeting as the frown that crossed his face. Tadashi understood.
"Oichi..." Tadashi rattled out, throat suddenly dry. "Would you be so kind as to leave us for a moment?"
Her visage moved to Motonari's and then back to Tadashi, head inclining but legs remaining still. He watched as her fingers - her hands intertwined neatly in front of her, close enough that he could reach out and grasp them at any point - began to tremble.
"I..." her voice was just as weak as his, the sound reminding him of his shoulder. He felt his lips responding to the drag of his conscience, knowing she understood full well what the topic was going to be.
"Lady Oichi," Motonari's calm, lofty voice stood a stark contrast to the grim air that seemed to have taken roost in his vicinity. "You may stay if you desire, but you will not like what you will hear."
The Dragnovian nodded, somewhere between resolute and regretful. Motonari's eyes returned to the Auroran, seated precariously on Valora's throne.
"Before we begin, I must know - was it Lady Kazumi's capture that served as the catalyst?"
Tadashi blinked, indifferent mask dropping in the face of a deluge of long-restrained emotions. Shaky eyes peered back at the Greenleafer from underneath the auspices of the hand rubbing at his temple.
"I..." he croaked out, followed by a hesitant swallow. "I refused to be useless. And when I... came to understand the depth of the potential we held in our links, I could finally do more than watch events transpire," his gaze drifted to Oichi and her white-knuckled grip on the hem of her skirt, feeling another pang of conscience at the sight. "Enough that I could triumph over the likes of Tadakatsu Honda."
"I didn't ask for a justification, Lord Tadashi," Motonari replied after a pause, the warmth in his voice having been effortlessly replaced with a grim sobriety to rival his mien. "That you felt the need to provide one is telling."
Tadashi's complexion paled to the point of exsanguination, the unsaid cutting deeper than any of Tadakatsu's swings.
"I will not be dissuaded," he uttered, hands clenching around the armrests and forcing as much steel into his voice as he could.
Silence reigned as Motonari cast a glance back at the sunset - towards Nixtorm, towards Dragnor - and then returned to the Auroran with a silent huff. Oichi, standing resolutely his side, saw her last chance to excuse herself in Motonari's bearing and allowed it to pass.
"Do you know how your father died?"
Motonari's question shook the Auroran out of his stupor and left him looking even more disheveled. He blinked, once, then twice, gaze unmoving from the Greenleafer even as his mind whirled about. The grognard remained statuesque as the question hung heavy, enough that it threatened to choke the life out of Tadashi were he to remain silent.
"You played a role, didn't you?" Tadashi finally asked, leaving him with a greater sense of limbo than ever before.
"I did," Motonari replied with an indiscernible admixture, his eyes trailing to Tadashi's sword, resting innocuously against the armor stacked on the throne's flank. Tadashi slumped back against the throne, eyes rolling down to the blade and staying there for a second too long. Motonari's frown remained unmoving as the Auroran's hand found its way around the scabbard. Oichi could only flinch.
"Oichi..." his voice rumbled as he rose, cutting Oichi off as she moved to restrain him. He turned, eyeing the delicate hands squeezing his arm for a second before meeting her gaze for the first time in hours. Silently, Tadashi admired how well she kept composed in the face of the panic threatening to move beyond her eyes and consume the rest of her features. "I... cannot trust myself. Please," the plea was punctuated with an uneven gulp. Her lips went agape when he lifted up his sword to her. "Help me."
Oichi blinked, recomposing her features into something more stolid even as her eyes shifted from the sheathed steel to his eyes, finally grasping the sword with both hands. Tadashi let go and turned back to Motonari just in time to avoid seeing the Dragnovian begin to tear up. Tadashi wondered if it was just perspective, but Motonari's shoulders seemed to relax as he approached the Greenleafer.
"Tell me everything," the Auroran said - with a near growl - as he came to a stop, within arms reach of the strategist. Motonari, with his lanky, frail frame, still effected to look down at the twin as long-forgotten emotions of his own bubbled to the forefront of his still conscience. The two warlords found themselves slowly, ploddingly, gauging each other for an hour-long-second, before Motonari's eyes dropped and he gave a forlorn nod.
"How much do you know about your father? Truly?"
"That he was my uncle's brother, and my uncle did not like to talk about him."
"Such apprehension would be... understandable. Your uncle and father were not on the best of terms, and your father's death was the nadir of his career," Motonari let out a sigh and turned walking back to the balcony. The sun was beginning to dip below the mountain ranges surrounding Dragnor, and the Greenleafer found himself increasingly fixated on it. "It was also the end of my friend's."
"You were close?"
"Not with your father - I knew him personally for little more than a week," where Motonari's shoulders had been relaxed before, they now slumped. "No, things moved too fast. But Harukata always was insistent on charging headfirst into the future," he turned back to Tadashi - and the Auroran was taken aback at the sight of the gloss in Motonari's eyes. "What do you know about Harukata Sue?"
The Auroran arced an eyebrow cautiously, but humored the change in topics. "That he was one of the best warriors Greenleaf produced, and he opposed your takeover."
"A fiction, on both accounts," the corners of Motonari's lips tugged downwards, as if there was an addendum he debated on disclosing. "I opposed his rise to power - one in which your father was tragically entangled in - and he was the best warrior Greenleaf had produced," the smile the flashed over his features would have been winsome had it lasted any longer. "At the mere age of seventeen he and his Garchomp had managed to shatter the illusion of Amago invulnerability, and put Greenleaf on the path to dominance of the south."
"A Garchomp? At seventeen?" Oichi gaped, her grip on Tadashi's sword loosening in the process. Both the Auroran and Greenleafer casted a curious glance back at her. "B- Nobunaga didn't have Hydreigon until he was twenty-five."
Tadashi's features flattened and Motonari gave a tired nod.
"Yes. Harukata was more than aware of his strengths. Such that he came to believe only he could avenge our defeat at the gates of Ignis," the Greenleafer's gaze turned back to the Auroran. "His father - Okifusa, who was more of a father to me than my own - died in front of him, allowing himself to be impaled so Harukata would not. He was one of many who died, but the only person who could restrain Harukata's excesses. And in his misery, my friend discovered the true depths of his potential." Motonari's eyes sharpened against Tadashi, and the Auroran felt a chill snake down his spine at the emphasis the Greenleafer used. "He came to understand the links that bind us as warriors - and I am... thoroughly convinced that the strain of abusing such a sacrosanct power further eroded his already weary psyche."
Tadashi forced back a gulp, and barely restrained the accompanying scowl.
"And how does my father factor into this?" he was pleasantly surprised he managed to keep his voice steady.
"Your father was to be a replacement for my former lord, posthumously adopted into the Ouchi after Harukata found a much-needed rallying cry against Ignis in the form of murder. That was the final transgression for me - and my subsequent betrayal was for Harukata. When we faced each other on that island, he had degraded beyond recognition," a stifled, weighty sigh followed. "I had to put him down. And your father - having lost any prospects of authority in his new kingdom and refusing to go back to Violight, where he had also lost any chance of utility to your uncle's coup - hung himself."
"I can only hope he was unaware that his wife, waiting in Violight for news of his victory, was pregnant," silence reigned as Motonari concluded, all the color having drained from Tadashi's face. He stepped - stumbled - backwards, eyes going to the throne he had been sitting on minutes prior. The Auroran settled for slumping against the wall as he processed Motonari's soliloquy. The Greenleafer could feel the corners of his lips wilting.
"Please, Lord Tadashi, for all of our sakes; stop abusing your link."
"I..." the Auroran's eyes wavered in the direction of the floorboards for a second. He straightened, head feinting in Oichi's direction before decidedly turning back towards the Greenleafer. The silvery eyes leering at the mossy man better resembled glass. "I cannot. We are so close to victory - victory attained through this... this curse. I must see it through."
"You need not undertake this yourself," Motonari replied calmly, masking a frown underneath a bittersweet smile.
"I cannot ask you to make my sacrifices, nor fight my battles," came the Auroran's automatic response. Motonari held in a sigh, inclining his head in a facsimile of a nod.
"Not anymore, no," his smile wavered into a thin, shaky frown. "But you have your sister, and I know she would not want you to be so cavalier."
"I don't want her," Tadashi let out a weighty breath, wracked with the thoughts of the only family he had left. Oichi took half a step forward at the sight, and then settled for keeping a tighter hold on his blade. "To be forced to carry burdens that should be mine. Not any more," he turned, striding over to the doorway before coming to a stop. His throat tightened. "I need to rest. Excuse me."
Tadashi's eyes flitted to Oichi, still holding his steel, and walked through the threshold before guilt could seize him fully. Oichi's shoulders sagged, the scabbard in her hands tapping the floorboards in the process. Motonari returned to the remaining sunset.
"The true battle is always fought in the hearts of men," Motonari's airy voice floated above the silence that had entrenched itself in the space between himself and Oichi. "To allow them to destroy themselves, to strip them of their wills and reason. In my inexperience, I was convinced that the most effective way to do so was to make a foe convinced of the futility or error of their cause. I was wrong - when Harukata impaled himself on my blade, when Yoshinaga hung himself, I discovered a more terrible method: to convince an opponent of the utter necessity of their cause," Oichi heard a shaky breath from the strategist. "And all the worse, then, for that conviction to become a mockery of its cause."
"What can we do?" Oichi's tone betrayed her hopelessness.
"Not we," he replied, finally wheeling around to face the girl in pink, having drawn over to his side. Oichi felt a pang of pity at how haggard the Greenleafer looked, the firmly set frown fully displaying his years. "I have made the greatest plea I can. Lady Oichi, you are perhaps the only person who can curtail the excesses of the man opposite of Nobunaga," Motonari's gaze turned to the doorway, and then back to the mountains of Dragnor. "We are alike, him and I. And I regret that it had to come to this... repetition."
"I don't..." Oichi breathed out, garnering Motonari's attention again. He placed a light hand on her shoulder and almost arced an eyebrow at how tense the muscles felt. "I don't know what to do."
"I fear, Lady Oichi, he believes you do," the Greenleafer replied, eyes settling on the weapon in her hands. "As do I. You have already resisted your brother, and have given the young master a reason to fight beyond mere reaction. If you falter - if he were to see you falter - I fear it would be the end of him. Continue as you have."
Oichi said nothing, her knuckles turning white as her grip tightened. Motonari's face settled underneath the veneer of a thin shadow as he turned towards the doorway.
"I understand..." the Dragnovian heard the words pass her lips as the Greenleafer's steps echoed in her head.
The moon had finally waxed full, illuminating Ginchiyo's path into Valora's garden. There were no torches, only metal-incased lanterns guiding the walkway, doubtlessly imported by Ieyasu. But it was more than enough for her to make out the outlines of her father and his Luxray, the former seated on one of the many wrought-iron benches adorning the shore of the Magikarp pond. She gained a second wind in her stride, quickly closing the gap on her father before the sound of another familiar voice made her grind to a halt.
"I have divulged what was necessary to the young master," Motonari's voice - and his figure, Ginchiyo realized - hummed from the vantage of her father's right. She maintained a respectful distance from the two, but close enough to still hear what sounded like a 'hmph' from Dosetsu.
"And you are certain that was wise?" his tone left little doubt in Ginchiyo's mind as to his position.
"I am certain it was necessary," came the Greenleafer's reply, equally as grave and with a tinge of remorse. "Even should he grow to hate me for it, it is a price I am willing to pay should it steer him from self-destruction. But that is all I can do."
"And if it is not enough?" The silence that followed drowned out the sound of Magikarp surfacing and managed to make Ginchiyo's skin crawl.
"Then I will do what I must," Motonari finally said, "I am sorry our conversation had to take this turn, but you needed to know. Regardless, I believe I have kept your daughter waiting."
Ginchiyo involuntarily squared her shoulders as Motonari rose and silently treaded by, a small bow in her direction being the only sign that he even noticed the Violighter. Perhaps it was the lighting, but the Greenleafer seemed to have taken on an extra decade to Ginchiyo's eyes. But once the warlord slinked back into the shadows he had momentarily left behind, her attentions returned to the man sitting on the bench.
"Father," she said with a bow. Dosetsu nodded and motioned for her to drop the formalism. "We've been given the honor of taking Nixtorm tomorrow."
Dosetsu's face remained unmoving, as if any emotion was constrained by the firmly-set wrinkles and worry lines that had creased themselves into his face, but he managed a firm nod.
"Only Violight?" Ginchiyo's wordless nod made a small smile force itself onto his face. "Well, I suppose there is some benefit to Lord Kenshin being indisposed."
Ginchiyo barely suppressed a cough at her father's dry delivery, stuck between resisting the urge to mimic him and feel guilty over it. News of Kenshin's collapse and subsequent withdrawal into one of the private suites spread like wildfire throughout the army; the official story being little more than exhaustion from fending off Tadakatsu Honda, with rumors floating about of everything ranging from poisoning to a nervous breakdown psychics were notorious for. The best course the Violighter decided, was to ignore the diversion altogether.
"What are your orders, Sir?"
There was another period of prolonged silence - that which she despised even more than Muneshige's backtalk - that finally ended with an audible creak as Violight's septuagenarian Warlord shifted his weight.
"That you take the lead."
Those words struck Ginchiyo harder than any blow could.
"Sir-"
"I'm not going to be able to fight forever, Ginchiyo," he returned with all the detachment of a professional soldier. Her lips remained frozen in silent objection, while Violight's warlord reached down to run his hand through his Luxray's mane. In the back of her head, Ginchiyo wondered when the Electric Type - the sire of her own partner - had started to grey. "I'm grateful enough that Zekrom has blessed me with the strength to see Dragnor's spires."
Ginchiyo's voice still managed to elude her - it was Dosetsu's turn to feel guilty over having the urge to chuckle at seeing her dumbstruck. Her slowly rose from his stone perch, standing only a few inches above her.
"Why don't you join me for a drink tonight? Tell me how you plan on whipping those ice-lickers?" he said, allowing a more good natured smile to break his stony features. Ginchiyo allowed a quiet one of her own, nearly hidden with a short bow.
"I'd be happy to, father."
Kenshin groaned as his senses slowly returned to him, and was immediately rewarded with the ache in the back of his throat roaring to life again. He blinked, a haze worse than any hangover he had suffered prior trying to smother out his vision and lull him back to the restless sleep he had just escaped from - it was only the prick on his link with Gallade that gave him enough presence-of-mind to dredge himself out of the morass and sit upright. The Illusite blinked, the haze being replaced with the sight of a mass of red lurking in the corner of his visage.
"Hey you. You're finally awake," Shingen's voice immediately sparked a mental debate as to whether or not sleep would be preferable to the conversation that was presenting itself to him. And while Shingen might have allowed him a say in the matter, Aya would not.
"Are you still able to speak, brother?" Kenshin couldn't see her - although Gallade, with all of Aya's sentiment, was able to reveal to him where she was - but the chime of his sister's voice gave Kenshin a measure of sense of comfort that normally only the quiet of Illusio would provide. That was quickly dashed when she stepped over to his side and he saw the look on his face.
"Dearest sister," he said, the croaking making the corners of Aya's lips waver slightly, even if her eyes remained as sharp as ever. "I am glad to see you again."
"And I am glad to see you at all," her tone was as biting as her glare, and Kenshin found himself flinching underneath it. She didn't need to openly chastise him for the duress he had placed himself under - her gaze was more than enough to accomplish that. He felt the need to exhale, and then turned to Shingen, still seated against the wall to his right.
"You could have informed me," Shingen said, catching onto his rival's unspoken plea. Aya's gaze shifted from her brother to the Terreran.
"We didn't want any chance of word getting out," the corners of Shingen's stretched outwards at the woman's explanation, but he proffered no reply.
"Gallade said the tumor was discovered three months ago," the man in red said. Kenshin tried to shift his body weight to face Shingen fully, only to end up swaying towards the ground. Aya caught him while Shingen was in the middle of moving to do so. Kenshin gulped - barely restraining a twinge as he felt the burn in his throat - and rested a hand on his sister's as he steadied himself.
"Yes. I... was not given a generous timetable," Illusio's Warlord moved to stand upright. "However-" he nearly fell backwards into Aya's knees, until Shingen managed to grab a hold of his outstretched hand. The look Aya gave the Illusite was enough to convince him to not try to move again. "I refuse to allow death to claim me before this war is over."
Shingen and Aya traded looks for a brief moment, before Kenshin's sister gave a silent nod and took a step backwards.
"Well," the Terreran began. "You're not going to do any good right now - the boy set out for Nixtorm first thing this morning."
"Morning?" Kenshin replied with a hasty blink.
"About five, six hours ago," Shingen said, finding a sliver of schadenfreude at the surprise Kenshin was struggling to suppress. "The lass and her tacticians arrived before daybreak and the army set out at dawn."
Illusio's warlord grumbled something indiscernible and concluded with a resigned nod. Shingen took a sip from a nearby cup of water before offering the rest to the Illusite. He took the ceramic, gave it a once over, and then downed the rest in a single gulp. Shingen allowed for a moribund smile.
"Why don't you take the opportunity to rest?" Kenshin arced an eyebrow, and Shingen had a suspicion that had anyone else - Aya included, as she wouldn't have asked - said that, they would have been on the receiving end of something far sharper. "We will need the God of War at Dragnor."
Kenshin stared back at him for a long minute before giving a weak nod in agreement and allowing himself to fall back on the cot. Aya, having helped him become situated again, seemed torn between saying something and allowing her younger brother to sleep. The subtle, rhythmic rise and fall of Kenshin's chest decided for him. She gave a grateful nod to Shingen and returned to her own meditations, leaving the Terreran to silently empathize with Kenshin about having been left behind.
Nixtorm's wintery winds beat down upon the Violighters et al, howling at the invading army to turn back in the face of the elements. Had the snowfall been any worse, Kazumi may have actually considered it. But Nixtorm's first line of defense paled in comparison to her brother's reception when she arrived that morning. He had, as she fully expected, been elusive; it was Oichi and Motonari who greeted her and her tacticians at the gates, and Ginchiyo who informed them of the battle plan for Nixtorm. It took Espeon to find him through the psychic void his Umbreon created, and when she had tracked him down it became quickly apparent to her that absence was not the sole doing of his partner.
Kazumi had intended to take the initiative in the conversation - be it with an apology or news of her de-facto engagement, she had forgotten - but his lips parted first. For a brief moment, it had seemed like he would actually say something. Instead his walls slipped and the sheer amount of conflict she felt pouring off of him through Espeon left her feeling nauseous. And by the time she had blinked away the headache that had sent her physically reeling, Tadashi had vanished altogether, such that not even her partner seemed to be able to identify his absence. When they gathered to march he couldn't meet her eyes, and his reluctance translated into a pallor that seemed to have enraptured their entire group in silence.
"It won't be much further," the sound of Motonari's voice - the Greenleafer having volunteered to serve as guide through the frozen coastline - straining against the wind broke Kazumi out of her trance and brought her back to the present, if not any feeling in her extremities. Pulling the snow-stained scarf tighter around her neck, she took a quick glance around; the only person around her who seemed to handle the cold well was Oichi. And, distantly, she could make out her brother's frame at the front - trailing Motonari like a shadow - resolute against the elements that threatened to reduce her to a shivering mess. She heard Hanbei whisper - chatter - something to Kanbei, and seconds later Lampent flew from between the tacticians to her side. The warmth was meager at best, but it made the Auroran less inclined to feel like a popsicle, even underneath the extra layers that she had donned for the occasion. It was ultimately unnecessary, as only a few minutes passed before Motonari's prediction came true and the arches of Nixtorm's castle came into sight.
It was a beautiful sight; set atop a mountain of snow and ice, gold lining intertwined against black tiling, the walls - in what had to be partly made of nevermeltice - glistened against the slim early-morning sunlight. The brisk snowfall only added to the beauty of the sight; enough that for a brief moment it distracted Kazumi from the numbness in her extremities. She returned to reality when everyone around her ground to a halt.
"No sentries, no alarms..." she heard Ginchiyo, standing only a few feet in front of her, mutter in something between apprehension and disappointment.
"No reinforcements, either," Muneshige opined. Kazumi could practically feel the two Violighters independently come to the same conclusion.
"And likely no will," Motonari finished through a shiver, taking a staggered step forwards. "I doubt it was little coincidence that Nixtorm failed to show in Valora at its most critical hour - let us see if we can't negotiate."
Tadashi remained quiet - which was as good as acquiescence - while the Violighters just exchanged cautious glances before giving a silent, synchronous nod to Motonari. Oichi's face seemed to regain some of its color at the thought. Motonari's eyes fell on her.
"If we can get it, Nixtorm's help may prove decisive at Dragnor."
A strained smile crossed Motonari's features for a moment before another strong gust of wind scattered it into the flurry of snowflakes. The Greenleafer nodded back at the crystalline castle in the distance.
"Regardless, the less we stay out here, the better," the sage observation was met with a chorus of murmured, chattering agreements, and no time was wasted in waddling across the last of the tundra between themselves and one of the few islands of civilization in the northernmost of Ransei's kingdoms. It wasn't until they arrived at the outer gates that the castle showed any signs of activity.
"Sir Toshimitsu?" Motonari asked, cautiously, of the single sentry that appeared over the wooden carapace.
"Lord Motonari," Gracia's tutor replied, even more guarded than the Greenleafer. "I would ask you to turn back; Nixtorm has no quarrel with your lord."
"I'm afraid we cannot turn back," Motonari returned, raising his voice over the wind. "But in light of that I would ask to meet with Lord Mitsuhide."
"Lord Mitsuhide has given orders that he is not to be disturbed," Nixtorm's castellan replied, too quickly for Motonari's tastes. The Greenleafer only gave a weary nod.
"Then I would ask that you open the gates in his stead and spare us all the trouble," the silence that followed Motonari's ultimatum was far more oppressive than the weather. Were it possible, Kazumi swore she had heard the man above swallow.
"Only on the condition that my lord's rule is preserved."
Kazumi took that as her cue to step forward, snow audibly crunching underneath as she made her way to Motonari - to her still-silent twin's - side.
"As lady of Aurora, you have my word that Lord Mitsuhide's rule will be respected and treated as equanimous to ours," she said, bearing herself as regally as she could underneath the chills wracking her frame. There was another prolonged moment of silence following her declaration - during which Kazumi had plenty of time to worry whether or not she had made a blunder in her speech and for a reassuring smile from Motonari to put that to rest - before Toshimitsu waved down into the courtyard and the iron gates grinded inwards. Kazumi took a half-step forwards before Motonari quietly waved her down and took the initiative, followed by a grumbling Ginchiyo and an amused-looking Muneshige.
Kazumi entered Nixtorm's spacious courtyard - on Tadashi's heels, his torn cape doing a better job of trailing after his steps - just in time to find most of Nixtorm's army stuck in a state between loitering and looking ready to pounce. The Violighters marching in, she quietly noted, were little better. Even Motonari, talking in his usual dulcet tones to Toshimitsu, kept Serperior wrapped around him rather than trailing behind.
"This doesn't feel right..." Hanbei, dutifully at her side, muttered. The Auroran gave a wordless nod in agreement, taking another glance around the courtyard. A warlord who had not only abandoned his allies at the eleventh hour but his own kingdom at the gates - the entire situation repulsed the Auroran.
"Then we are in agreement?" Motonari said, voice raised just barely enough that it could be heard by all without sounding overbearing.
"STOP!" Motonari knew better than to turn towards the sound; the same could not be said of those around him, who were nearly blinded by the flash of telekinetic energy that erupted only a few feet away. Gracia, face as red as her hair, stormed into the center of the warriors - much to both Toshimitsu and Motonari's consternations.
"Lady Gracia-" Toshimitsu barely even got that out before Gracia stomped her heel into the snow-stained stone below.
"I-" the girl suppressed a sniffle, similar in how the Gothitelle looming behind her threatened to suppress any who dared move against her. "I refuse to just give up the castle! Papa didn't fight just so-"
"Lady Gracia, please return to your quarters," her tutor replied in a near-panic. "Lord Mitsuhide charged us with protecting your person at-"
"That doesn't MATTER!" the Nixtormite choked out, caught between a sniffle and a hiccup as her face somehow grew brighter. "Papa does nothing but talk about defending Nixtorm! And you're just giving up!?"
It was at that point that Motonari decided to intervene; kneeling down, he finally grabbed the princess' attentions by placing a firm hand on her shoulder. Gracia flinched, turning to face the Greenleafer but finding herself unable to keep eye contact. He said nothing, giving her time to slow her breathing.
"Mr. Mori..." Gracia let out a heavy breath, shoulders trembling as she forced a gulp before straightening her back. When she finally faced the mossy man, it was with all the reservedness of her father. "You said that papa would need my help to keep everyone safe."
Motonari allowed for a breathless chuckle, face falling into a mirthless smile.
"I did say that, yes," his eyes turned to Toshimitsu for a brief moment, seeing the Nixtormite was almost as much as a loss for words as he had first been. "But sometimes keeping people safe means not fighting."
Gracia's frown refused to budge, but it took on a dignified air.
"All my life I've been told to stay back," Gracia balled her hands back up. "For once, please let me help - let me prove myself."
As if to decide for her, the Gothitelle looming protectively behind the Nixtormite glided around to her side - shooting a harrowed Tadashi a wary look in the process. Motonari just gave an oblique nod, slowly rising to face the gathered warriors.
"Very well then," Toshimitsu made to object, and then thought better of it as Motonari remained at the Nixtormite's side. "This, Gracia, will be an excellent opportunity for learning - I am at your command."
Gracia looked up at him, wide-eyed, with most of those present mimicking her in some form or another. But Motonari's face remained reticent, even as he met Tadashi's gaze.
"Lord Tadashi, I would ask that you would be one of our opponents for this," the Auroran stood in silence, eyes darting between Motonari and Gracia before giving a silent bow. Toshimitsu motioned for a few nearby Nixtormites to step back as the Auroran moved opposite from the duo, his Umbreon stepping out from the shadow of his torn cape.
"And Lady Ginchiyo," Motonari's smile took on a more genuine tone as he faced the Violighter, who was doing an admirable job of hiding her scowl. "I'm afraid I had no intention of stealing your thunder. If you'd be so kind."
Muneshige took up the burden of a listless chuckle in Ginchiyo's stead, the Violighter, simply rolling her shoulder as she and Luxio marched over to Tadashi's side.
"Well then, my lady," Motonari said with a small flourish, turning back to Gracia. "What are your orders?"
"I-" the enthusiasm in her voice quickly vanished with an accompanying blink. She glanced at the Gothitelle towering above her; her first consistently present friend, their previous victories and tactics dancing around in the back of her mind. Her eyes drifted over to her opposition; a Dark Type, commanded by a man whose gaze struck her with the same sense of dread she could hear in her father's voice when he referred to Nobunaga. And finally, her gaze turned back up at Motonari and his Serperior - first, to try to think of what moves he would have at his disposal, and then what he would have done, and finally to ruminate on the constraint he had placed on himself for her sake. The last point refused to leave her mind.
"I..." the princess found herself repeating listlessly. "I understand, Mr. Mori. Gothitelle, stand down."
The Psychic Type just slid backwards, watching the Auroran and Violighter warily as she reassumed her position behind Gracia. Tadashi and Ginchiyo, for their parts, seemed caught between irritation and disconcertion while Motonari simply felt his shoulders relax as he returned to kneeling at Gracia's side.
"We must not allow our empathetic desires to become apathetic actions, Gracia," he said, softly, and for the shadow of a moment Tadashi swore the Greenleafer had looked at him. She only nodded wordlessly, not finding it in herself to make eye contact again. "Now, would you be so kind as to escort me to your father?"
"Papa isn't feeling well..." the Nixtormite muttered, finding the frosty ground to be more appealing than having her peripheral vision flooded by the surrounding warriors.
"Then perhaps we could help him together?" she nodded after a minute.
"Lord Motonari, Lord Mitsuhide said-" Toshimitsu stepped forward again, only for Gothitelle to swing around and interpose herself between Mitsuhide's lieutenant and Gracia at the latter's behest.
"Sir Saito," the redhead forced herself to lift her gaze, tone hardening. "If papa wishes to view me as a disturbance, then I will simply accompany Mr. Mori to Dragnor, in which you and the rest of the army will have to tag along."
Motonari forced the corners of his lips down while Toshimitsu bowed in acquiescence to his charge. Gracia slipped a hand around Motonari's forearm before giving a silent order to teleport them back into Nixtorm's castle. Gracia barely avoided an all-out blitz through the halls after their surroundings had reoriented, with Motonari managing a sluggish jog to keep up.
"Gracia, wait," the Greenleafer said when she reached a pair of heavy-looking, gilded doors. She turned to face him, dainty hand already pressed against the golden leaf. "Allow me to go in first."
She blinked - showing no signs as to whether or not she understood his reasoning - and then stepped back to allow Motonari to take her place. He placed a gloved hand on the door, glanced down to make sure he was blocking Gracia's field of vision, and then pushed the door open.
A suicide, in his mind, might have been preferable to what he found.
Mitsuhide sat in the corner of the room, slumped backwards in a wicker chair that in days gone by he might have read bedtime stories from. The pristineness of his quarters almost seemed to decry their occupant, who would have easily passed for a corpse - head hung, allowing a mop of loose hair to obscure his features, complete with his hands impotently dangling off the armrests - were it not for the indiscernible muttering that the Greenleafer heard arising from him.
"Lord Mitsuhide." Motonari received no answer, with Mitsuhide's mumbling continuing unabated. The Greenleafer felt Gracia tug on his cloak; he turned back, managed the best equivalent he could of a reassuring smile, and motioned for her to wait. Gracia frowned but gave a half-nod.
"Lord Mitsuhide, can you hear me?" the Greenleafer's words seemed to echo off the walls and coalesce with the soft thud of his steps. This time the mumbling stopped and Mitsuhide, slowly, lifted his head. Motonari felt a prick of revulsion at the sight that greeted him; eyes bloodshot and gaze glassy, the torpor in Mitsuhide's eyes only added to the illusion of his death.
"You..." the Nixtormite's voice was a rumble without any thunder, reminding Motonari of Harukata's gloating in his dying breaths. "You knew..." life seemed to flash back into Mitsuhide's mien, which only gave his otherwise flat features a twisted, base air as he lumbered out of his seat. "YOU KNEW!"
The roar took Motonari by surprise, leaving him completely unprepared for the Nixtormite when he lurched. Motonari barely had time to bring his arms up before Mitsuhide's hands clamped down around his neck, any further accusations that the Nixtormite might sent his way dissolving into a bestial growl. Before the Greenleafer even had a chance to let out an objection - a thin one, as Mitsuhide's fingers dug into his neck - Gracia appeared in the doorway.
"PAPA!" her shriek was strong enough to echo throughout the castle and loosen Mitsuhide's grip. His gaze ran past his would-be quarry and landed upon his progeny; Motonari watched as the foggy gloss in Mitsuhide's eyes subsided in the face of an insurmountable panic. The Nixtormite's grip loosened and he stumbled backwards, and would have fallen had Motonari not caught him by his wrist. Mitsuhide let out a half-strangled, breathless groan, face flushing back to life with a jaundiced color as he tried to form words. It was clear to the Greenleafer, as he let his hand slowly fall back to his side, that the man before him no longer cared about what he had been reduced to - but was not so far gone that he no longer cared if others saw it.
"It is always more terrible to admit it," the Greenleafer whispered. Mitsuhide's only response was to allow the corner of his eye, still bloodshot, to twitch. The Nixtormite tore himself away from his daughter, spun around - nearly fell in the process - and staggered across the room. Motonari recognized the look on Gracia's face and put a hand on her shoulder before she could charge past him. She pouted but didn't struggle, joining the Greenleafer in watching as Mitsuhide trudged past his chair and over to the sole window in the room, dragging the blinders onto the floor with a series of cracks, any of which could have passed for his fist hitting the wall. Instead Mitsuhide found himself flinching as his vision was flooded with soft sunlight.
"You knew, didn't you?" the Nixtormite finally asked through a heavy huff.
"I... discerned Nobunaga's intents, yes," Motonari replied, voice as still as Mitsuhide had been not more than a minute ago. The Nixtormite's shoulders tensed as he tightened his grip on the windowsill, but made no further moves. "But if you believe I am so omniscient as to know his particulars, then you would be mistaken."
"Don't try to absolve your guilt with half-truths," Mitsuhide growled. Motonari cocked an eyebrow while Gracia just looked between the two of them in confusion - the thought of asking Gothitelle to peer into one of their minds came and went.
"Had I told you, would you have believed?" Motonari's question went unanswered. Mitsuhide allowed himself to stew in the quiet for a few before speaking again.
"Regardless," he would have flinched at how hoarse he sounded had he still had the vigor for it. "Then you of all people know how pointless this entire endeavor is."
"Pointless?" Motonari echoed, lightly, letting the word sit on his tongue. He fought a loosing battle to keep his lips straight. "Lord Mitsuhide, this endeavor is the one that shall bring Ransei under a single banner."
"Through a lie," the Nixtormite hissed.
"History will not judge it as such," Motonari's reply was even, even as his words hacked away at what self-restraint Mitsuhide had mustered. "And history will memorialize your revolt as the actions of a righteous man, unable to overlook the wanton destruction his master unleashed, and thus provided the catalyst for Ransei's salvation."
"I don't care about history," Mitsuhide seethed in turn. "I care about HONOR! History - or whatever narrative you wish to weave - does nothing to ease my conscience."
"No, but it did ease the war when it came to your doorstep."
There was another moment of silence - one in which Gracia took the opportunity to bury herself deeper into Motonari's coat - where Motonari could vaguely hear the sound of Mitsuhide's molars grinding.
"You're a monster."
"I have many crimes to answer for, Lord Mitsuhide," Motonari replied, quietly, but without breaking away from the scorn in Mitsuhide's gaze. "But someone has to sully their hands, and I would prefer it to be myself rather than the young master - or you. You are a good man, Mitsuhide, and you have done enough."
"Enough?" the Nixtormite exhaled, shoulders shaking as he bored imaginary holes into the Greenleafer. "I have sacrificed everything and it was not enough." Mitsuhide stomped back to his former prisoner, stopping just short of grabbing him by his coat. "Nothing will be enough! I impaled him and he just shrugged it off! And now you - AND HIM - tell me it was all for NOTHING! That I've done enough, that I can just be put aside like some chess piece!?"
"Lord Mitsuhide..." both Mitsuhide and Motonari found themselves caught unaware by the feminine voice. The Greenleafer turned - not enough to deprive Gracia of the safety of his coat - and found Oichi standing in the doorway, looking as pale as when Shingen had nearly revealed her heritage. Mitsuhide returned the gaze in kind, and it only deepened when Oichi was joined by the twin warlords of Aurora, with an even more stupefied Toshimitsu leading the rear. "You-"
She was cut off by Mitsuhide nearly collapsing in her direction, managing to catch himself on the doorframe as he peered down at the Dragnovian. The look in the Nixtormite's eyes was enough to make Tadashi's hackles rise, and only Oichi taking a half-step in his direction kept the Auroran from moving between the two.
"Lady Oichi..." the Nixtormite said it not as a name or greeting, but with such desperation that it could only have been an ideal to him. He nearly slipped off his precarious perch in the doorway, and clung even tighter to the wood to stay upright. "Forgive me for not believing you when you first came to me. I tried, I tried, but nothing was enough."
Oichi was left speechless, mouth agape as she tried to come up with a response to Mitsuhide's increasingly frenetic tone. She finally managed a blink, silently hoping it would replace the half-crazed man before her with the memory of the gelid, judicious warlord of her memories. All it succeeded in doing was making the distance in the Nixtormite' gaze greater. Tadashi finally interposed himself between Oichi and the fallen warlord; Mitsuhide's attentions shifted accordingly, and his eyes somehow widened when they landed upon the Auroran.
"You..." he gasped out, which made Tadashi instinctively draw inwards. What little light left in Mitsuhide's eyes vanished as he scanned the invader's features. "You're the final sacrifice..." a slow, plodding rasp escaped the Nixtormite's throat, and after it repeated a few times Tadashi realized that it was his attempt at a laugh.
"Sleep, papa," it was Gracia who finally acted after a handful of painfully prolonged seconds, her voice barely steady even as the tears began streaking down her face. Mitsuhide had no time to object or even turn around; the Gothitelle looming only a few feet away waltzed into his shattered mind with the alluring promise of reprieve. Motonari managed to catch the warlord before his head hit the floorboards, his face as still as when they first entered the room. Gracia - and Tadashi - watched listlessly as the Greenleafer heaved her father up and half-carried, half-dragged the unconscious man back to his chair, with his lieutenant freeing himself from his shock to help. Tadashi remained watching even as Gracia turned, quickly lowering her arm from her puffy eyes and putting on the best air of composure that she could.
"You are the leader of the Coalition?" Kazumi blinked a second after the redhead asked the question, realizing it was directed at her. It had never been something she had been outright asked - and she was certain that the answer would differ upon who was asked. But Gracia - Kazumi felt her throat tighten at the girl staring shakily at her - kept up a façade of confidence, and so the Auroran put those worries aside with a small nod. Tadashi was just as silent and even more withdrawn. Gracia bowed her head and then curtsied.
"Then, on behalf of p- my father," she swallowed the lump that had firmly wedged itself in her throat. "I hereby surrender Nixtorm."
Kazumi's eyes drifted past Gracia for a fleeting second.
"We graciously accept," Kazumi felt her lips tugging downwards, torn between wanting to avoid coming off as curt and feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the prospect of having to prolong the conversation. Gracia, whether or not she had any inkling as to Kazumi's conflict, ended it for them.
"Sir Toshimitsu," she turned around, facing her father's retainer, still standing at his side even as Motonari made his way back to her. "Please keep watch over papa."
The man stood still for a brief second, but gave a wordless bow. Oichi had followed the Nixtormite's gaze, finding the stomach to look at Mitsuhide's crumpled form for a final time. Tadashi found himself raising an eyebrow as she muttered the warlord's name in pity. Gracia's focus returned to the Aurorans, and she beckoned Gothitelle back to her side. Kazumi clenched her eyes shut the moment it became apparent that they were about to teleport, sparing herself from having to watch as their surroundings were warped beyond recognition and replaced with the courtyard once again.
Ginchiyo raised an eyebrow at how haggard both the twins looked, but opted to say nothing as Tadashi waved them over. Even as the Violighters silently began forming ranks, Motonari remained at Gracia's side, staring blankly into the dull, snowy sky.
"Mr. Mori," the Nixtormite finally said, softly, finally drawing Motonari out of his thoughts. "I..." she stopped, and he could vaguely make out the beginnings of a plead before she moved onto an entirely different conversation. "I don't think you're a monster."
Motonari resisted the urge to let out a wistful sigh and settled for a half-smile.
"I'm afraid you have more confidence in me than I do myself, Gracia," he said, kneeling down to face her.
"Papa made a mistake," she replied. "You may have, too. I don't think it makes you a monster."
Half of the Greenleafer wanted to correct her - that there had been no mistakes. The other half reminded himself that it was a stated opinion, not a question.
"Very well," he said, mustering a full, if not melancholy, smile after a moment's glance back at the gathering army. "After this war is over, I'd like it if you would visit Greenleaf. And I can show you the garden I've spent the past few decades working on."
"And the flowers?" Gracia replied, managing a smile of her own.
"And the flowers," the Greenleafer repeated, before standing upright. One of his knees groaned in protest. "Until then, I trust you'll do fine."
She gave a silent, halfhearted nod, and Motonari headed back to the waiting warriors. They vanished back into the snow within minutes.
The march back to Valora had been just as silent as the march from it. Motonari had immediately busied himself in talking shop with Shingen upon returning, Hanbei and Kanbei tagging along, while Ginchiyo had, irately, dragged Muneshige off to practice. Oichi had retreated into the solitude of her allotted room - whether for her own sake or to give Kazumi a chance to talk to Tadashi alone, Aurora's warlord didn't know. But she found herself pursuing her brother regardless.
He could have easily been elusive, had he wished, escaping into the guts of an unfamiliar castle and evading Espeon's detection in the throng of warriors by leaving Umbreon with someone else. But he did not - he waited in plain sight, peering over the edge of the uppermost balcony. Kazumi only realized what he was looking at when she finished the climb.
"We're a far way from Aurora, huh?" she said, walking over to his side. The mountains running across Avia blocked out any real sight Tadashi might have had of their kingdom, but he was still inclining in its direction like a compass would. Her brother gave no answer, nor even a sign he had heard her. Kazumi frowned and placed her elbows on the railing, hoping he was just thinking of a way to respond.
"Tadashi," she nearly growled after another minute of silence, turning to face him. "Talk to me." Kazumi resisted the urge to punctuate the sentence with 'dammit'.
There was another minute of silence, ending with Tadashi finally lifting his downwards gaze and letting out a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry..." his twin felt a pang of guilt at hearing regret in his recalcitrant tone. Once again, the beginnings of a sentence formed and died in his throat, and he remained staring ahead, blankly. "I don't know what to say."
Somehow, that response did more to crush Kazumi than any angry rant or brusque dismissal. She gave a dispirited nod and pushed herself off the railing.
"Wait," Tadashi said as she turned, surprising both of them. "When this is over, then."
"Is that a promise?" Kazumi asked, arcing an eyebrow. Tadashi blinked, only just realizing what he had said in full.
"If," he clarified. "But yes."
Kazumi turned, took a step towards the door, and then found herself looking back at her twin.
"Brother," he still made no move to turn. "Whatever happens, I'll still love you."
"I know."
Kazumi gave a weak nod - not even knowing if he could see it - and then limped out of the room to go find her tacticians. Tadashi heaved out the sigh that had been threatening to crush his lungs and remained stewing in his thoughts, even after he had watched his sister leave for Spectra. It was not until the lamps in the throne room started to die out that he finally pried himself away from the railing, trawling down the darkened hallways until he finally found his goal. Cautiously, he rasped his knuckles against the door. It took a few anxious seconds before the panel finally slid open, revealing a drowsy-looking Oichi. It was obvious she had hastily draped herself in her kimono for the sake of more modesty, and for his part he tried to keep his eyes above her neckline.
"L- Tadashi?" whatever exhaustion she held vanished at the sight of the Auroran.
"May I come in?"
"Of course," the hesitation in her voice was negligible, but he still took notice as she stood aside. A lantern lying next to a discarded book still dimly flickered, casting shadows across the walls and alleviating his concerns he had disturbed her rest.
"Were you close to Lord Mitsuhide?" Tadashi asked as he glided past Oichi's sleeping partner, coming to a stop in the center of the room. Oichi frowned.
"Not terribly," she replied, closing the door. "But he was always the most principled of Nobunaga's generals..." Oichi let out a heavy sigh. "I could barely recognize him. For him to get to the point of treason and murder and then... that, I cant fathom what he must have endured."
"No, you can," Tadashi uttered after a moment of stolid silence. He cast an envious look down at the blissfully unaware Jigglypuff before returning to the Dragnovian. "But I do. That you do not - did not - is one of your best qualities, Oichi."
"Tadashi-" she was cut off by the sight of him removing his helmet, the luster he had gone to great lengths to hide from even his own sister being displayed before her.
"I've had to do some thinking, Oichi," he said, plainly. "What Motonari has said, what I've seen today - it's one thing to suffer gradually, to become acclimated to the rot, but seeing the conclusion plainly is different altogether. And I fear Dragnor will be my conclusion." He took another step in her direction. "But I refuse to allow it to occur under the indignities I saw today."
The Dragnovian tried and failed to keep her mouth as Tadashi took a knee in front of her, head bowed.
"I was wrong, Oichi. And I fear I have wronged you the most," she was speechless - and had she found words, they would have been as shaky as his. "For the longest time, I sought to be my own man. I realize now that I have been chasing little more than a perversion - a delusion - of that ideal. And if the end of that pursuit is to harm you, that path is unconscionable to me." Tadashi raised his head to meet her gaze. "From this day forwards, I am yours Oichi. And this is my promise to you; I shall do everything within my power to see that your trust has not been misplaced."
Oichi felt light. She would have stammered had she been able to feel her tongue over the heat in her face. She did the first thing she thought would actually be fitting and held out her hand. Tadashi, over the pounding in his chest, took it in his and placed a small kiss on the back. Tadashi had barely brought himself to his full height before he was enraptured in a hug. It was Tadashi turn to blush as the pounding in his chest only accelerated. Returning her embrace, he could detect the faint scent of her perfume - cherry blossoms, which only served to remind him of Aurora.
"I love you, Oichi," he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he uttered that.
"I love you too," came the reply, a handful of simple words that eased the sting of his confession. Tadashi pulled back from the hug and captured Oichi's lips in a quick kiss. When he pulled away he wasn't sure which one of them was more red-faced. She just giggled.
"It's good to see you smile again," Tadashi blinked, and then surpassed her in terms of a blush. While the Auroran busied himself with trying and failing to regain his composure, Oichi strode over to the wall.
"And as you entrusted this to me..." when she turned back around she had his sword - still tied in its scabbard - spread across her hands.
"It would be good to have this at Dragnor," Tadashi said, managing to turn a nervous smile into a dry one as he returned the lacquer to his hip. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Oichi echoed, the single word having drained most of the cheer from her voice. He returned to her side, placing a hand on her cheek as he stole another kiss.
"And after that we have the rest of our future," he whispered, pulling back again - to him, she was simply too intoxicating.
"Together," she said, her hand intertwining with his.
"Together," he repeated, the hand resting on her cheek moving down to her hip. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, before taking a half-step to the side. Tadashi wasted no time in following, and soon their rhythm carried them across the room and into the night.
The Moon reigned supreme in Avia, enveloping the night sky with its luminescence, and denying Masamune the sleep he so desperately wanted. He rolled over in his pallet for the umpteenth time, facing away from the moonlight and still finding no reprieve from it.
But where the moonlight was soft, the lantern light that flooded his vision when the door to his room slid open forced him to throw a hand out and shield his eye.
"My lord," Kojuro's voice was just as crisp as the light that surrounded him. Masamune blinked a few times and finally managed to make out the silhouette of his retainer bowing at the threshold. Avia's warlord forced himself to sit upright as Kojuro looked up. "Nixtorm has fallen."
Masamune felt something stir inside him, an altogether different sense of macabre to the one he was so accustomed to. But with it came a familiar fire, one that forced him to stand.
"Ready Braviary. This is my fight to finish."
A/N: And happy seventh anniversary of Conquest's NA release!
Anyways... I'm pretty late on this one, aren't I?
Well, I have a perfectly good explanation: Todd Howard forced me to buy Fallout: New Vegas just so I could 'appreciate how much better Skyrim is' and forced me to play it. When I told him I enjoyed New Vegas more, he made me play twenty more hours of Skyrim as penance. Since he was holding a shotgun, I didn't really have much room to argue. And for some reason he had decided to dress up in a Teletubby costume during all this. (Did anyone else watch the Bethesda E3? I could've sworn the room was full of trained seals - and that one guy who kept screaming is probably going to wake up in the back of a cart with his hands tied. They seem to get worse every year.)
Anyways, while general laziness on my part did play a part in the delay of the chapter, the main causes were some IRL changes that were (and still are) going on and me having to rewrite Nixtorm's section a few times. Stories have a nasty tendency of always being shorter in my head than they are when I put them on paper, and since this has been the first 10,000+ word chapter I've done in a while I had to cut out a few things I originally wanted to include, not only for the sake of conciseness, but just from a reexamination of the merits of their inclusions. Chief amongst them, an actual battle at Nixtorm, wherein I went through four separate scenarios and finally came up with the version you have just read and hopefully been satisfied by. I had also finished this chapter about a week prior but wanted to make sure I'd actually have a chapter to put up on the anniversary, so if you don't see another chapter by/towards the end of the month you can expect one early in July.
Speaking of, next chapter will be Dragnor. After that, all we have left is Infinite Tower and the Epilogue. And for those that might have noticed a few years back - yes, that Violight Prince that Motonari mentioned in his initial backstory conversation with Mitsuhide was indeed the twin's father.
See you all soon(ish).
