I think a few of you are going to enjoy this chapter. It took a lot of hard work. There's lots to unpack here and I'm especially proud of it. The Fates storylines had lots of darker elements that didn't really get explored all too well. I figure I'll change that here.
Without further delay, let's get started. Shall we?
Leadership
The time has come. You march on Hans' encampment tonight - guided by Camilla's scouts. your soldiers stand in organized lines, awaiting orders - awaiting glory. You sense eagerness from a great many. While the duties of a noble are new to you, you're no stranger to the whims of common folk; their drives and ambitions resonate clearly with you. Some want an end to conflict - others desire riches, while most yearn for a safer future for those they love. It will be an honor to make battle alongside them; you've never been one for barking commands while free of burden.
It's especially pleasing to have your comrades on presentation with Queen Camilla in audience.
She observes from the side-lines. An ever-vigilant Selena keeps careful watch over her.
You bring your arm outward in a sweeping gesture, ready to inspire.
"Beyond this township waits a demon - a barbarian without a shred of restraint. Hoshidan, Nohrian - even men and women of our number are not safe. He'll kill us all, and nary on the command of his king; but because he likes it. Hans will slaughter and slaughter until the land is barren. If we fear him? We're as good as dead. But if we strike him down, it sends message."
You pull your wraithglass sword and raise it to the moonlit sky. "We are many - united; and the days of Garon's rule are numbered."
The glyph scarred into your skin hums a cool ocean blue; your bicep heats. "For Queen Camilla. The Light of Nohr."
Your group of one-hundred strong erupts into a fearsome battle cry. "Queen Camilla," they chant. "The Light of Nohr!"
These men and women are yours; their loyalties are clear. And unlike your days as a Hoshidan, you're better equipped to lead.
Almost all is prepared. One more task remains.
Where Charlotte should be leading these rugged Nohr-born revolutionaries alongside you, she's absent from the battle line. She said she'd change into her kitsune fur fighting attire and join you to rally the troops. It's been hours; she's nowhere to be seen.
The blonde berserker is essential to the success of the coming night raid. Nay, it's more than her brutish skills you depend on. You're comforted by the sight of her on the frontlines -a lass with might enough to strike terror into warriors most fearless. You won't go into battle without your comrade - your beloved. She leads from the front - as it should be. If there's someone you can trust, it's her.
Whatever has her attention, you'll get to the bottom of it.
You slip your weapon of glass away, intent on seeking her out. "Dismissed," you tell the soldiers. "We leave at the midnight hour."
They give a salute in unison and disperse on your order.
You present Camilla a respectful bow, taking your leave.
Upon returning to the house you find Charlotte sitting at the edge of the bed; she's still dressed in her frilly nightgown from this morning. Her face glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. She's rosy-cheeked, clutching an old wooden bucket between trembling fingers.
"K-Keiji," the blonde rasps, hunched over. Holding her stomach, she heaves and vomits into the bucket with great discomfort.
Concerned beyond compare, you hurry over and sit at Charlotte's side. She sets aside the bucket and lays her head exhaustedly upon your shoulder - a far cry from her usual scrappy self. You squeeze her hand for comfort, meeting your gaze with hers.
"No wonder I didn't see you earlier." You touch Charlotte's clammy forehead. "You're burning up. A fever, perhaps?"
Strange. She didn't appear unwell yesterday, and there's been no outbreak of fever amongst the ranks.
"Na..." Charlotte groans exhaustedly. "I dunno what the hell it is. Started a couple of hours ago."
"Should I request a healer? You're whither than a sheet..."
"Don't bother," she growls, levelling a stare. "I ain't about to let some Hoshidan girl poke 'n prod at me. My back's sore enough as is. It'll pass - just gimme a few and I'll be right as rain. No way am I lettin' you have all the fun tonight."
Charlotte tries her hardest to get up, only to teeter on unsteady legs and topple. You rise quickly and catch her, keeping her safe within your embrace. Her breaths are uneven; the color drains from her cheeks before your very eyes.
"Ugh, gods." She breaks free and scrambles for the bucket, dropping to her knees. Buckling, she grabs her stomach and heaves. You kneel at her side, brushing strands of golden her out of her face. Once she's done you move the bucket of bile out of the way.
"You're in no condition to go anywhere, let alone fight."
No sooner than you voice your feelings does Charlotte shuffle closer; she lays her head against your chest and snakes her arms around your middle. The two of you share a hug. You give her back (drenched with sweat) a rub; she shivers at the contact you provide.
"Must be somethin' I ate." Charlotte, scoffs out of frustration. "A bad cut of meat..."
You're no shrine maiden, but no mere turn of the stomach you've seen has left a girl this sickly. You kiss your beloved on the cheek, helping her upright. She holds on tightly, flashing a small but honest smile for the aid.
"Bad cut of meat or no, you're staying in bed until dawn. Worry not - I'll manage well enough by myself."
"Gods Dammit," Charlotte snarls at your insistence. "Keiji, I ain't lettin' you fight without me. Trouble finds you, always does."
She thumps your arm. Usually, it would hurt. Not today. She's devoid of strength.
"Charlotte, please..." You plead, your voice trembling. "Any other day I'd let you have your way. Not now; not like this."
You look across the room. Propped by a rickety bedside dresser is the monster of a steel axe she lugs around in battle. It's been ground extra sharp and is ready to go. The thing is so heavy that you can't lift it more than half a foot from the floor. Strong or not, the Nohrian bruiser can hardly stand at the moment - she won't be able to swing a weapon so large without causing herself harm.
You're not going to let that happen.
Exhaling your fears, you cup your palms around her face. You stare into her sapphire blue eyes with tenderness. "If any harm befell you out there... I'd be beside myself. Please, listen to me - just this once. Curl up in bed and sleep off whatever ill shakes you." You smile to ease her bubbling anger. I'm going to go out there to do what I do best. I'll return safe and sound before you know it."
Your words cool Charlotte's fury. Her expression eases; she nods - albeit reluctantly. "Fine. But you'd better bring me the Bastard's axe as proof. She edges closer, pressing her nose against yours. "And be careful out there. I'm not about to lose you, not before we find our fortunes together."
You smirk at the blonde's eagerness, "I thought the money didn't matter?"
"I might've said that," she chuckles wickedly, "But there's always plenty of spoils to be had on the battlefield."
"Then I'd better find enough for the two of us," you tell her. "Now, hold onto me."
You sweep Charlotte into your arms, lifting her up. She doesn't protest; quite the opposite. She drapes an arm over your shoulder and holds on. You deliver her to the bed and carefully set her down. She gives a grateful wink, leaning in and pecking your cheek. For all of her fizz and vigor, she can be a sweetheart when it suits. A side of her you cherish behind closed doors.
"Rest up," you speak softly. "As soon as you're better we'll make up for lost training."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Charlotte snorts dismissively, her usual self again.
You dwell at her bedside a moment further, long enough to watch her slide her arms out of her nightgown and pull the thing over her head. Bare and beautiful, she tosses the sweat-dampened garment your way with a cruel smirk. "Now get outta here. I'll be fine..."
In a perfect world you'd believe her without fault; the way she sharply clutches her stomach as you draw away from the bed makes you think otherwise. Something more grabs your thoughts as you turn for the door, as well. Charlotte's breasts. They've always been large - wonderfully so. Today they look sore - swollen, even. Or maybe it's just my imagination.
You spare your darling Nohrian a heartfelt smile before departing.
She's turned onto her side and snuggled beneath the linens, her knees hugged to her chest.
"Take care, love," you call out.
"You too, Keiji... Go kill Hans already."
Ready for battle, you step out into the cold evening air. The role of commander is yours, and yours alone.
The time to leave has arrived. You stand at the front of your one-hundred strong fighting force. The hefty gates protecting Cheve rise to allow departure. At a commanding shout on your part the troops fall into a marching formation. At the helm, you lead them out into the fields. With a pair of Camilla's agents directing the group, you begin on your way. Hans' encampment awaits.
"Keiji, wait up!" Hana shouts. "Hold it!"
You raise your hand, signalling your small army to halt.
The swordmistress and a band of Hoshidan samurai (five of them in total) rush to close the gap. Hana comes sliding to a stop before you. Doubled over, she catches her breath. Once ready, she straightens her back and flips her fringe from her face.
Her comrades catch up, falling in at her sides in an organized fashion.
"We're coming with you," declares Hana. "It's our duty as Hoshidans to fell evil wherever it waits. Hans has caused our people much ill-fortune. The innocent deserve justice. We're going to do what's right."
You're not convinced; the violence in her eyes is telling.
"A personal errand, Hana? It sounds as much." You shake your head. "I decline your offer, return to Cheve."
She stands firm, unwavering - holding her hands upon her hips, "Oh stop already. You're saying this isn't personal for you?"
A twinge of irritation claims you. With a clenched fist you restrain the urge to draw your wraithglass.
"Have it your way, but do not interfere with Lady Camilla's wishes."
Much to your surprise, Hana brings an arm around her waist and bows a polite Hoshidan bow.
Upon rising she clutches her tummy for just a moment longer, smiling sadly.
"Thank you, Keiji..."
Your thoughts wander to the very last time you held her; countless months ago. Your anger turns to regret. You storm beyond your former lover, commanding those you lead to march anew. "The Hoshidans are with us, men," you tell them with authority, not looking back to Hana for a second. "Cooperate with them, and ensure their safety should the need arise."
With a clap of the hands you order a Nohrian magic-user (a woman a few years your younger, adorned in raggy dark blue robes) to the front. You saw her during the battle for the Border Wall. Or to be precise, she saved you from being taken captive by Hana. Her fearsome spiral of flame provided just the chance Selena needed to swoop in for the rescue. A deed that naturally peaked your interest once the conflict drew to a close.
Mages are usually slim bookish sorts. Not this girl. She's well-built for lass - broad and chunky. Her face is wide; dusted with freckles. She sports a fair complexion and a strong jaw. Thick and scraggly orange curls spill from the sides of her pointed mage hat.
"Lord Keiji." she speaks with common tomboyish flare. "Why'd you call me up here? I'm far from special."
You welcome her with a slap on the back. "You spared me a trip to my homeland's dungeons. I hope you realize that."
She grins widely, showing off her crooked (but pearly clean) teeth. "Heh. Suppose I did. Couldn't turn down a request from Selena. She ain't a bad sort. Nice arse on her. But that's beside the point." The mage snorts out of amusement. "What can I do ya for, milord?"
Intent on keeping your true reasons for her summoning a secret, you make damn sure to speak in a low voice. "A name would be a nice start, miss."
"It's Elena." she replies, raising her hat's brim."Born 'n raised in Windmire, I was. My ma was a whore and my daddy a conscript." She flicks her fringe aside, sporting an eager smirk. "Want someone cursed? I'm good with curses... the nasty kinds. Go the mile in bed as well, if that's yer fancy."
"Nothing of the sort, Miss Elena." Though her outspoken nature is appreciated. "Listen close. If our samurai guests rush off in search of glory in the coming clash, follow them; provide support. Guard Hana especially. I'll introduce you to her majesty for commendation once we're home, my way of thanks."
Elena glances behind to the Hoshidans; they've fallen in at the rear.
"Don't stare, you'll make it obvious."
"Sorry, sir. Caught off guard, I was. Didn't figure you'd want me watchin' yer kinsman. Forgive the bluntness and all."
"Tis alright," you chuckle. This girl's spirited - real salt of the earth. No nonsense. You'll get along with her just fine. "I expected your surprise. Do this for me, Elena. And not because I'm charged with leadership; call it a favour from one soldier to another."
"This is what I like about you; you're straight talking. None 'a this 'noble' bollocks." Elena nods. "Aye, sir. I do it. But I've got a question."
You raise a curious brow. "Go on."
"Excuse my askin'. But Hana's important to you, no? You wouldn't want her kept safe if she weren't."
You answer Elena with a knowing smirk. "Something like that, young miss." You clear your throat, regaining your poise as leader. "Now, fall in. Don't speak a word to anyone else about this. It's strictly between us."
"My lips are sealed." Instructions understood, she falls back into line.
A long walk through withered Nohrian woodland and over craggy hillside pathways delivers you to the makeshift wooden walls of an encampment. A fort atop a steep incline. The Nohrian standard hangs high from its supporting beams. The entryway is raised and free of guards. Like an inky maw, it waits. There must be little to nothing in the way of torches lit inside for it to appear so dark.
You order your mages to extinguish the spheres of ethereal light in their palms as to avoid detection.
A howl from within the structure, ghostlike and wrought with anguish, carries over the icy wind. It isn't the same as those you've (sadly) grown to expect.
Something isn't right. This is supposed to be an outpost. There should be soldiers on patrol at the very least, and you expect far worse. The last time you encountered Hans he nailed prisoners to the town's outer barricades. He even went so far as stringing them from crude improvised gallows. He's overly-fond of destroying the wills of those he faces with cruel and unusual tactics. Nothing of the sort catches your attention from here.
You order Elena to deliver Hana and her followers to the front. A careful approach is needed.
On arrival the Hoshidan swordswoman draws her steel. Her eagerness is a rageful blaze - unquenchable but dangerous. "We should charge in - catch them by surprise. We'll cut them down in open combat, the honorable way."
You shudder at the thought. Again Hana is taken by notions of righteousness.
"Not with my soldiers, you don't. We're not here for noble combat. If they spot our approach we'll be outnumbered in a heartbeat."
"And what would you suggest?" scowls Hana. "We sneak in and murder them in their beds like scoundrels?"
"Something better. Stay here; I'll go first and see the situation for myself - we can't be hasty."
Another gods-awful, guttural scream escapes the fortress. Hana squeezes her eyes shut in frozen a shiver. "No, Keiji," she refuses, opening them again. Putting away her weapon, she stares upward to your mutual goal. Her hands are shaking. "You are not going alone. I won't allow another Okashi. Even a traitor isn't deserving of a fate so rotten. I'm coming with you - like it or not."
"No you aren't. Better I risk myself than you, milady. I'll fall before Hans lays a finger on you again."
"Y-You don't mean it," her voice cracks, falling to a whimper. "Shut your damned mouth..."
You'll never forget the day you charged headlong into Okashi Township after Hana was captured. The blood. The gore. The violated women and the brutally tortured men. The worst of them all was your once-cherished swordsmistress. The things Hans had done by the time you found her were beyond disgusting. You wince at scars on her neck; scars only you know the story behind.
"But I do," you reply, nursing the invisible wounds which bind. "He tarnished that which was most precious to me in days gone by." You point to her right hand, gesturing toward the bronzed betrothal band upon her ring finger. "You still wear it. Allow me a shot at redemption, for old time's sake."
Hana's eyes quiver; she clamps her hands over her bosom. Your request brings her close to tears. "It's because I still wear it that I cannot." She inches closer, one tiny step at a time. "Not only for my warrior's oath; for myself. You're my treasured friend, Keiji of Izami... even if our paths have diverged."
Her admission shatters your armor. "As you wish. You win, Hana." Acting on emotion, you request the girl's hand. She accepts; you welcome her to your side. There's no turning and running; the only way is forwards. "Stay beside me. We get in - we see what's happening, we return to the soldiers. If you see Hans, no acts of heroism... Payback's tempting, but if we're found - we're dead."
"Okay," Hana utters, wiping a tear from her eye. "I-I'll steady my hand."
"Good to hear," you whisper with genuine kindness - silently afraid beyond compare of what awaits.
A demon of the past. An injury the likes of which will never fully heal.
Before departing, you call upon Elena. She drops onto hand and knee before you. "What's your desire, Lord Keiji?"
"Stand, lass. There's no need for that." You wait for her to rise to her feet. "Have the men return to the bottom of the hill and spread out. Stay covered behind the incline. Me and Miss Hana will scout the camp's layout to decide a plan of attack. We'll return in ten minutes, no more and no less. Expect the worst if we're gone any longer; withdraw from here and leave us behind if it comes to it."
"Aye, milord. Be careful up there."
"I'll do my best."
You release Hana and start up the hill. The lady samurai sticks close, matching you step for step.
Together, the two of you reach the hilltop, each taking cover at either side of the open doorway. You on the left. Hana on the right.
"Ready?" you mouth silently.
"Yes," Hana replies. Again her hands are quaking with fear.
Into the unknown gloom you go - alive with caution. Hana remains close.
"Keiji... where are you? I need your help..."
You're struck by Corrin's fearsome dragon's roar. The sound surges through your temples, forcing you to your knees. Your skin heats to a fever pitch. Snarling, you struggle against the inhuman sensation. The emblem upon your arm pulsates brighter than you've seen (or felt) before. Its energy is so strong that it slices several feet through the inky blackness. "Gods be damned..."
"Keiji..." Hana helps you up and takes your weight; your skin sizzles hotter. "It's okay - I've got you, b-but your arm."
"It's fine; keep going. I'll explain later..."
The further you walk (with Hana's help) the more awful it feels. The sensation of Corrin's voice twists from a throbbing drumbeat to an all-consuming flashfire. If it weren't for your former-beloved, you wouldn't be moving anymore. You crunch your fingers into a violent fist to regain a shred of control; it doesn't work. Hobbled, you inch forward with what little energy you have.
The earth beneath your feet is stained a dried red - the stink of charred flesh is everywhere.
Going further in, the light of your limb reveals the origins of the stench.
Corpses (some whole - others gutted and torn) litter the floors.
Teeth marks puncture several, mostly around the midsections; necks - or both. Lifeless stares of terror contort their faces, as though their enemy was something unnatural. Holding your arm outward reveals many more - most with similar injures. It isn't the worst you see, either. Lots are burned to a crisp - lumps of smoking, human-shaped charcoal.
It only gets worse the further you delve.
"Gods," gasps Hana, her fingers digging into your forearm.
You find row after row of destroyed tents; jagged claws have ripped straight through most.
Behind them, facing slightly westward is the remains of a wooden cabin. You find more scorched and lifeless bodies in its half broken doorway - each clambering over the other in a desperate attempt to escape. An equally grim fate befell those who didn't reach the door, crushed or impaled by the logs of a sunken in roof. You turn from the morbid sight, drawn to the centre of the unbearable carnage.
There's a cage - a holding cell. You and Hana investigate.
It's much bigger than anything of the sort you've seen before - designed to contain a creature far beyond average size. Its bars are thicker, though still bent and broken. It's as though they were little more than an irritation to whatever was kept therein. Beside the cage lays a Nohrian man - a knight dressed in artfully crafted banded iron armor. His face is melted; the flesh has peeled and blistered - he's been boiled alive.
Within his fingers rests a piece of paper bearing the seal of Garon - the Nohrian insignia.
"Hana. Set me down by the cage; let me catch my breath." You can no longer. You're too heavy.
"Are you sure?" There's horror to her tone. "We shouldn't dwell here. All these bodies - there's dozens."
As much as you agree, your shattered pain threshold won't allow it. "J-Just a second. That's all I need. My arm... it's like it's on fire."
"Alright... but we should get out of here, and soon." Hana does as you ask, easing you down.
The heat within you is fading. With it, the shine of your scar is dimming. It's still bright enough to guide your return should you need to, but little more. Released from hellfire's grip, you can think clearer. Focus regained, you say a mournful prayer for the fallen man beside you, plucking the scrap from his (still warm) fingers. Hopefully it will explain what in the name of the Light Dragon happened to all of these poor folk
"Shit." Nohrian symbols scrawl the paper when you unfold it. Think Keiji, think. You squint and concentrate harder. Some of the lettering makes sense, but not all. You know enough (thanks to Charlotte's lessons) to read the middle paragraph of the three with the most ease.
And quite the read it proves.
"Our orders are to keep the mother and child separate. There was hardly space here for two. Hans' pulled back to Dragonfall; he's gatherin' more men for an attack on the Border Wall. He took the mother with him - we got the runt. Says he'll use it against Camilla's lot - no bloody clue how he'll do it. Thing's savage, and without the stone round its bloody neck it keeps turnin' into a monster. Same for the kid, except it's smaller, and it don't change as much. Keeps on cryin' 'Momma, momma' all the time. Figure I'll jab it with me stick, shut it up. Bloody animal - why's it gotta stay here?"
"What does it say?" asks Hana nervously.
"They were holding something here; a beast of some sort." You fold the paper and slide it safely within the inside pocket of your coat.
"A beast? It mentions nothing more?"
"Hard to tell. Damn thing's written in Nohrian." You reach for Hana's hand, she pulls you up. "I'll present it to Camilla upon our return. For now? Let's depart."
"At last, the smell of rot is making my tummy hurt." Hana presents her katana for safety's sake; its silver length reflects the blue of your scar.
Held in the thrall of agony no longer, you get up by yourself. You waste no time in retreating from this place of death and misery. And yet, you can't help feeling a sense of familiarity amidst the scores of fallen. An aura. A presence. The same one you felt when Nyx gifted The Mark of Tribulation.
Stalling in the fortress doorway, you turn around, paying one last farewell to the dead.
Two crimson orbs (like bloodied gemstones) crackle to life from the blackness. They leer into the pit of your soul.
Corrin's weakened voice awakens within their haunting cores. "Help me, Keiji..."
You reach for your sword, blinking for a lone second.
The orbs are nowhere to be seen; they've vanished.
Easing your hand from the hilt of your wraithglass, you exhale the rising tension.
"Hey, Keiji," Hana stalls, tapping your shoulder. "Are you alright?" Sheathing her katana, she peers into the dark.
"'My imagination's running wild." You grab her by the wrist, not taking any chances. "Come, Hana. We're done here."
Hana forces loose from your protection. "Stop pulling at me; we're not betrothed anymore." She notices your fearful expression; her anger calms a touch. "Forgive my temper... Having you touch like you used to feels... stange. What's the matter? What did you see? You're awfully anxious."
You're no stranger death, even its bleakest cases. What you stumbled upon on this bitterly cold eve is different. There's a foulness about it. Such absolute barbarity matches Hans. No - it's worse. "Nothing... Being here reminds me of Okashi... reason enough we go."
"I'd wondered if you felt the same." The lady turns her back on the doomed fortress with a saddened sigh. "Light Dragon preserve those poor souls..."
A shared prayer later, you both retreat with haste.
As you get clear, a low warning growl echoes within the walls your mind. A deathly shiver rolls down your back.
You ignore it and forge ahead, uncaring of the dread you feel.
Whatever slaughtered those poor bastards up the hill is surely devoid of humanity - an abomination.
Reuniting with Elena, you give the word to march; double-time.
The laddish mage blinks at the order. "'Scuse me, Lord Keiji? We're leaving? Our mission-"
"The mission is pointless now. We march, with haste. I'll explain why once we're safely home."
"As you wish, sir... Shame though." Elena says sadly, her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "I was hoping to spark up some spells."
You're most fond of her willingness to fight. "Next time." You pat Elena on the shoulder. "Until the war's won there's always a next time."
No matter the order, no matter the future request, you will never return here. Not with your loyal warriors in tow, at the very least. Your duty is to lead them; not to fritter away their lives in some senseless bloodbath. They're a good lot. Mostly Nohrian-born, or defectors like you. Just as you are Camilla's shadow, her loyal defender - these are your guardsmen. You'll do all you can to protect their interests.
Hana joins you at the helm for the homeward trek. She keeps a firm grip on your hand until the Border Wall is in sight. You don't question it. Tonight's mission has done plenty to mend the fractured bond with your old flame. While your time as lovers has long-since faded, there's nothing to stop you being friends again. At a time like this? You need as many as you can get. A lesson Selena taught you. A lesson you're keeping close to heart.
To be continued...
There you have it. Another chapter comes to a close! Did you like it? Would you like to see more in future? Feel free to leave some feedback and share your thoughts. As I said, I'm especially happy with this one.
As always, keep on supporting Fire Emblem and I'll see you in the next chapter. Thanks again for the continued support.