Alright folks, sorry about the wait, but we're back on track with this chapter! Today we shall enter Wyvern Valley and make the wondrous seaside city of Lothlen, home to Lady Montmorency. Prepare for two more kids to show up with a boom, and for their dads to flex their protective instincts.
Should be fun!
(FOR THOSE WONDERING ABOUT THE TITLE CHANGE, PLEASE SEE END OF CHAPTER NOTES BEFORE ASKING!)
Noble Blood
By the time Vaike and Ricken arrived at the Sage's Hamlet, order had been restored.
The signs of looting and damage remained clear in the rising sunlight, but the people seemed hushed not in despair. Nay, they whispered in awe to each other, so enraptured that they barely noticed the entire Ylissean column arrive.
"Well this is spooky." Vaike muttered as he looked around, Branden directing the regiments to assist the villagers. Ricken was next to him, astride his steed and frowning at a large scorch mark at the edge of the hamlet.
"I don't like this." The Dark Knight muttered; hat pulled over his eyes in thought. "The Valmese were here and looting, but these people act like Naga herself came to visit. Either they've all been traumatized or something else rolled through here."
Vaike scowled as he spotted a familiar falicorn being led by one of the younger villagers. "I think that solves that issue. Lissa's here, somewhere."
Ricken's lips twisted into a scowl of his own. "Whatever she found here better have been worth running off into enemy territory with an injured mount and no escort. Come on, I'd bet she's in the house of whoever leads the Sages."
Vaike grunted and they started looking around. None of the homes were terribly ostentatious, befitting a hamlet of humble people, but one was clearly larger than the others. It may have been no more than an extra room, but it stood out nonetheless. To say nothing of the congregation of sages sitting out on the porch.
"Greetings!" Ricken called once they were close enough, any discussion amongst the sages ceasing. "I'm Ricken Ventus Princeps of Ylisse, and this is my compatriot, Vaike Forza Orso. We're the current leaders of the Ylissean column assisting your villagers."
One of the sages stood and bowed to them. "You have our thanks, kind sirs, but we hope you don't mind if we ask you to leave before long. Our chief is in… communion, now, and we are discussing how to keep our people calm."
Vaike strode forth with an unimpressed huff. "The chief talking with a woman in robes like yours, but white and green? Have a guy in heavy armor with a sword in there too? If so, those are two of ours."
The sages exchanged glances and mutters before the spokesman gave their answer. "Indeed, two such individuals are within, but as I said, they are in talks with our chief. If you wish to help until they are done, perhaps you could speak to the people? They are quite agitated."
Ricken shared a glance with Vaike before waving the offer away. "Much as we'd like to accept your offer, we're in a hurry. Their presence is paramount to the success of our mission. I don't wish to be rude, but we must speak with them immediately."
The sages looked less than pleased by that and Ricken sighed. "If anyone should be speaking to your people, it's you. They won't listen to foreign words, only their leaders. I understand this is a trying time, but none of us will achieve much sitting here."
He held up his palm and a small tornado spun to life. "So in the end we have a choice to make. Sit here and stare at each other, getting nothing done, or we go about our respective business. We won't interrupt if they're still in talks, but the moment they're done, we must leave."
As if on cue, the doors to the home opened and an old man strode out, his sage robes the most ornate amongst his fellows. Behind him walked Lissa and Donnel, the two deep in discussion and paying no mind to anything else.
"Our savior has spoken." The elder sage declared for all to hear. "She asks for no repayment save that the word be spread of our salvation! Let the whole of the Valmese army know that they fight the chosen of Naga herself!"
The sages bowed to the elder and scattered, Vaike marching through them with a thunderous scowl. The elder moved to block him, but Vaike's scowl deepened and the man felt a primal dread settle over him. He stepped aside without thought, allowing Vaike to place a heavy hand on Lissa's shoulder. "Kid, we're leaving."
The heavy hand made Lissa stop her conversation with Donnel, her gaze turning to find Vaike glaring at her in barely contained rage. "…Of course."
The monotone of her voice made Vaike's anger cool slightly, but not enough for his scowl to lessen. Lissa removed his hand from her shoulder and strode towards Ricken, shoulders stiff despite holding her head high. As she left, Vaike looked at Donnel and lost the scowl. "…Flare?"
Donnel gripped the stump at his shoulder and nodded, expression set in stone. Vaike grunted and gestured for him to follow, the younger man saying nothing as they gathered the column and left the village behind.
It was only after they were out on the road again that Vaike started berating them. "Lissa, I don't know what damn fool idea popped into your head, but that was the single dumbest thing I've ever seen someone do. You ran off into enemy territory with only Donnel while surrounded by who knows how many Valmese!"
He turned on Donnel, neither of the pair looking at him. "And you went along with her! That is your wife you put in danger you half-witted shit shoveler! It's bad enough the fucking Duchess of Clarissa and eminent heir to the title of Exalt ran off, but you didn't even try to stop her!"
The shout made Lissa look down in shame while Donnel kept his gaze straight, Vaike caught on instantly. He turned his attention back to Lissa. "Oh, so he did try to stop you, eh? What'd you use to blackmail him, Princess? Cut him off? A sob story? Oh, wait, I know!"
His words dripped saccharine venom as the accusation dropped. "You used Owain to get your husband into a suicide pact! It's the only thing in this world that could make our favorite tinhead ever agree to this complete load of wyvern schlock!"
A wall of wind pushed Vaike away, Ricken staring coolly at him. "I think that's enough for now, Vaike. You can continue tearing their hair-brained idea apart later, for now, I need you to stop making a scene. The men are antsy enough about the road ahead and we don't need you justifying their unease."
Vaike snarled and glanced back. They were at the head of the column, but it was clear the soldiers weren't enjoying the sight of their leaders yelling at each other. Or, should he say, him yelling at their Exalt's sister.
He spat to the side and glared at the distant mountains. "Fine, but this isn't over."
Ricken nodded and glanced to Lissa. "Did you at least get something out of this?"
Lissa shook her head, speaking for the first time since they'd left the elder sage's home. Words of grief. "…No. It… was all a waste… a big… fat… waste of time…"
Her shoulders shook and her hands shot up to hide her face, though they couldn't hide the slight sobs. Donnel was beside her instantly, patting her leg in a vain attempt at comfort, but saying nothing. Ricken sighed at her less than stellar answer. "I see… nothing to do but move on then. I expect you both to explain when we make camp tonight, understood?"
All agreed and Vaike fell back to explain the situation to Branden. With the situation at least somewhat in hand, the entire column relaxed and marched on with nary an issue in sight. Well, except for the ever growing mountain range they were marching towards. Oh, and the odd band of roaming Valmese deserters.
It looked like even those who'd turned to banditry didn't want to approach the mountains.
And who could blame them? As the column settled down for the night, many leagues yet from even reaching the low hills, they could hear the distant roars of wyverns. Big Wyverns.
In an attempt to keep order, Ricken called a general assembly to outline their orders, bringing everyone into attendance around the central bonfire. "Everyone here?"
His question went to Branden, who nodded.
Ricken sighed and cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, I know tonight's going to be a hard sleep, but we'll make it through. Just remember your training with the Wyvern Knights and we'll get through the valley without issue."
He adjusted his hat when everyone kept staring at him. "Though, for the sake of reminders, I'm going to give a short list of things to do once we're on the march tomorrow. First, keep to the shadows so you break up your profile. Second, do not wander in groups of anything less than ten, wyverns will attack if there's not a present threat. Third… for the love of heaven, don't linger if you need the latrine. We're going to have a hard enough time with our mounts as is, we don't need to lose anyone for something like that."
That last bit got a ripple of laughter out of the soldiers and Ricken cracked a smile. "Last, and most certainly not least, keep your eyes on the sky. Like any predator, a wyvern wants to catch their prey unawares. Do that and we'll get through this. For Ylisse!"
"For Ylisse!" The soldiers echoed before dispersing to their fires. Ricken shared a nod with Branden and strode off to the largest tent, his fellow Shepherds within.
He took a seat across from Lissa and Donnel. "Alright, explain, now. Donnel, if she tries to hide anything, answer instead. I want the whole truth, understood?"
Lissa didn't look at anyone, preferring to stare at her hands, scrunched up in her lap. "…I… I needed answers. I've exhausted every scrap of lore in all of Ylisse, Ferox, even Plegia. Emm… Emm told me about the enclave of sages here, and how they gathered the lore of the continent…"
Vaike frowned and interrupted. "What answers were you lookin' for? Didn't you go an' talk to Lady Tiki at some point?"
Lissa nodded ever so slightly. "I… I did. I think I was one of, if not the, first to sit down with her after we got back to the port…"
Lissa's eyes closed, the memory rising to the surface. "She… didn't have what I was looking for."
-Lissa, Night of Tiki's Arrival-
"What am I doing here?"
Lissa muttered the question to herself as she stood before the simple door, the hallway of the inn empty of all save herself. She'd come here alone, slipping away from the others with desperation sickening her breast.
The door she stood before was Lady Tiki's assigned room, The Voice resting within. Far as Lissa knew, no one had spoken to the elder manakete that night out of respect for her privacy.
But Lissa was here anyway.
She needed answers. Tiki had told Nowi truths that had changed her whole world. Surely, she had some answers for this poor girl too?
But Lissa had been standing there for a while… maybe she was just scared of learning something she didn't want to know?
"Who's there?"
The soft voice of Tiki came through the door and Lissa knew she couldn't back out now. "It's… It's Lissa, I'm Chrom's sister. Can… Can I come in?"
The door creaked open with Tiki on the other side, a gentle smile gracing the manakete's lips. "Of course, come in. I can tell you wish to speak with me."
She moved aside and Lissa shuffled in, The Voice taking a simple chair while gesturing to the cot, her room bare of anything else save a desk. "Please, sit or lie down. Whichever makes you most comfortable."
Lissa sat on the cot and played with her hands. After a few moments of awkward silence, she managed to spit out some words. "T-Thanks you for… letting me in. I wasn't sure you'd…"
"Be awake?" Tiki inquired with an amused giggle. "Don't worry about it, I'm… quite awake, at least for now. The current state of my home is of great concern to me, as is the state of your friends and family. Though… I believe this visit has little to do with them, or am I mistaken?"
Lissa refused to look up, the desperation in her breast growing stronger. "I… Yes, I'm here for myself. I… I know it's selfish to ask you for your time, when everything else is going on, but…"
She felt tears prick at her eyes. "After… after we got you back, and returned here, I… I went to the medical tents. Everything was well in hand, the injured were going in and out… but I didn't feel for them."
She wiped the tears away. "I mean… I felt bad for them and all, but… it wasn't the same. I didn't feel the need to go and help as I always have, didn't feel their pain as my own…"
Tiki looked at her with unjudging eyes, a hum of thought breezing through the air. "I see… and you think it has something to do with your powers, correct? The ones granted to you as a Chosen."
Lissa nodded, silent.
Tiki's chair creaked as she stood and strode to Lissa's side, the manakete taking in Lissa's entire form as she kneeled before the young duchess. Then she took Lissa's right hand and unfurled it, the brand upon the girl's palm staring back at her. "…You are Chosen of Horakthry, aren't you?"
Lissa nodded again, hoping against hope that Tiki could give her something. Something that could explain why she wasn't feeling as she should. She'd been through a war and a rebellion already, and age couldn't have made her not feel for her fellow soldiers anymore…
"You… are the Arbiter, Horakthry's Chosen." Tiki sighed after a moment of contemplation. "You must understand, Horakthry's name is ancient even to me and my tribe. Our tales have the being as one of the firstborn of Creation itself. Only Ybris and Chaos are older, with Armityle as twin to the High God of Light. All I know of the Arbiter is that you… are the final judge of mortals. Your word, in all things mortal, is sacrosanct once you act in Horakthry's name. Any who break the judgement are eternally cursed."
She placed a hand on Lissa's shoulder, steadying the shaking girl. "And the price Horakthry has exacted is what clearly defines you. To act as you must, with your powers and magic, your empathy is slowly burned away. Use it too much, and you will lose that which makes you… you."
Lissa sobbed, trying to rationalize the news. "But… but I need my magic. It's how I heal, how I protect my friends, my family! And… I can't let injustice go when it's happening right in front of me!"
"That is your instinct." Tiki agreed, taking her hand and squeezing. "And, alongside your truly enormous heart, it is why I believe Horakthry ended up choosing you. I cannot speak for it, but I can say that you mustn't lose yourself. Your power is great, and with it comes an even greater responsibility than that you already bear. I'm… sorry my words cannot bring you comfort, but it is better to know than not."
Lissa squeezed back, taking strength from Tiki's steady presence. After what felt like hours, she looked up with tears streaking down her cheeks. "I… Thank you, Lady Tiki. It's… not what I wanted to hear, but… now I have something to look in to."
Tiki tilted her head in confusion. "Look… in to?"
"Yeah!" Lissa said, some manner of resolve entering her shaken voice. "I mean… there has to be something written about all this! Maybe I can find something to stop the… burning… as you called it."
Tiki sighed and fixed Lissa with a sad stare. "Lady Lissa… I'm afraid I may have misled you."
"As far as I know, the only release a Chosen may know is death."
Lissa stared at the manakete in open-mouthed shock, barely registering anything else as she was embraced tenderly.
"I'm so sorry."
-Lissa, Present-
Her tale came to an end and Ricken stared at her wide eyed. "…Empathy? So, you're saying that using your magic too much could turn you into…"
"A complete nutcase." Lissa confirmed with a heavy sigh. "No empathy for anyone, making decisions solely based on rationality and results. No accounting for circumstance, possible framing, or anything that could be gleaned from impassioned pleas."
She scowled. "I mean shit, listen to me, does that sound like me?"
Vaike shook his head. "Naga in heaven, that's what the bastard took from you? Small wonder Donnel's been so concerned about you using any magic."
"I did notice something good." Lissa stated. "Using regular magic, like fire, wind, and lightning tomes… I don't feel any 'drain'. Same with the lower power staves. But… yesterday…"
Donnel took over for his wife. "When we flew off to the hamlet, we found Valmese soldiers looting the homes. Lissa… was incredibly angry. The only time I've seen her that mad before was when we brought in that deserter three years ago."
All grimaced at the memory. Three years ago, one of Lissa's foremost captains in Clarissa had grown to disagree with her policies and defected with the soldiers under their command. For three months they'd staged raids on the outer towns, killing hundreds, before they were caught and brought for trial.
Lissa had barely handed down the sentence before the captain launched into a tirade against Plegians and Feroxi, one that had barely a minute to cross the air before Lissa bloomed with light and the captain was reduced to ash.
No one questioned her policies after that.
"That bad huh?" Vaike muttered, remembering the sun birthed on the horizon that night. "And you didn't find any answers with the sages. So… Lady Tiki's words are true?"
"Far as I can tell." Lissa sighed, sounding completely defeated. "I just… I was hopeful we could be free of this, one day. To get back what we lost to those things all those years ago. To be… normal again."
Donnel embraced her tenderly, though he couldn't quite wrap her up with only one arm. "Lissa, there's no need to be down about it. We still have our lives and our friends with us, there's little more we could ask for. We just… need to be careful is all."
The tent was silent for a time before Ricken stood and dusted his robes. "Well… I can understand the desperation, but it was still a foolish thing to do. Were we not on the march, you'd be confined to the command center, under guard. But as it stands, we need you out and about, so your punishment is to act cheery."
Lissa sighed and nodded silently. There was nothing more she could do now, at least not on the mortal coil. If she was going to find any answers at this point, only her 'patron' would be able to provide them. All she could do was continue the mission and hope her desperate flight didn't cause any more problems.
Donnel stood and grunted as a river of purple energy rolled from the stump of his arm, swiftly congealing into a new limb before vanishing and showing his arm returned to normal. "Well… random as always, isn't it?"
Vaike grimaced at the sight. "So that's how your arm comes back? Shit, hearing and seeing is just something else."
"Be glad it came back at a good time." Donnel grunted, testing the returned limb carefully. "Remember, the last one took months to come back, but this time it's only a day. Can only wonder if a time will come where I never get it back."
Ricken shook his head and waved for Donnel to follow him. "Well, since you now have two arms, your punishment for going along with Lissa is to carry our gifts to Montmorency the rest of the trip. You stop, I add more weight."
Donnel nodded and Ricken swept out of the tent. The Dark Knight was now the actual leader of this column, Lissa's responsibilities revoked after her flight, so now he had to direct the camp as it settled in for the night. Lissa, after a few quiet words with Donnel, left as well to apologize to the healers she'd left out to dry.
This left Donnel and Vaike, the latter contemplating. "…We're not going to have a good time in the Valley."
Donnel glowered at the berserker, but Vaike ignored it to wander over to the tent's entrance. "Those roars we've been hearing? The ewes are pissed, and if the ewes are pissed, the bulls are pissed. That means one of three things."
He leaned against the entrance pole and held up three fingers. "One, it's mating season. Two, someone was dumb enough to wander into their territory. Three, something's going after the young'uns."
A dull roar washed over them and Vaike scowled. "And based on how long and loud those roars are… we've got egg snatchers, and they don't discriminate at that point. Anything that so much as resembles the thief is going to be a target for their full fury."
"So what can we do?" Donnel asked, knowing not to question Vaike on this. After marrying Cherche and living with wyverns as the Wyvern Order got off the ground, Vaike was only second to his wife on wyvern ecology.
"We need Ricken's batch to keep a field ready." Vaike answered, hand coming up to pinch his nose. "Beyond that… dammit I don't know, Cherche's always been better at judging how a wyvern's gonna move than me. All I can think of is having the column move under that field."
Donnel shrugged and moved past him. "It's more than we had a second ago, so I'll go tell Ricken 'bout it. And… I'm sorry, 'bout all this, but you didn't see her."
Vaike grunted and Donnel disappeared into the camp, the berserker rubbing his shoulder absently. Oh, he knew quite well what Lissa looked like when she'd made her plea to Donnel.
It was doubtless the same look Cherche had given him shortly after he'd lost his damn mind.
-Morning, Entrance to the Valley-
Vaike's plan was put into action the moment the column started their approach to the mouth of Wyvern Valley. A spine of Dark Knights ran from the front of the column to the tail, each holding open a tome of fire or lightning while Ricken created a wall of wind at the head. From there flowed a thin barrier of flames and crackling energy, enclosing the column in a protective membrane of power.
A good thing too, for they'd barely gotten it set up before the wyverns descended. The bull the Valmese commander was riding turned out to be the average size of those in Wyvern Valley, even the smaller ewes far larger than anything in Ylisse or Plegia. But with the rolling membrane of magical energy, the wyverns could do little more than swoop over in an attempt to spook the horses, Ricken rent several that swooped at him as a warning.
They ended up being a good distraction, as the wounded wyverns were swiftly devoured by their fellows as easy meat. Didn't make a pleasant sight to march by, as more than a few splashes of bile were sure to show.
Regardless, they were officially in Wyvern Valley proper. Within roamed massive tunneling insects that looked like beetles, the creatures literally eating rocks and other detritus. They were the size of large cats, and the further the column marched into the valley, the clearer it became the beetles were the wyvern's primary food source, with other wyverns just behind.
"Geez that's gross." Lissa gagged as a small swarm of the beetles was caught and devoured, the scraps vaporized on the membrane of fire. "Why did it have to be bugs?"
Donnel shrugged from his spot next to her. "They had to be eating somethin' to get that big, at least it makes sense. Plenty of plop and rock for the bugs, wyverns get a meal and new nests when they dig out a large enough burrow. Win-win."
"I don't see how being a meal is a win-win." Lissa groused at him. "But so long as they stay away from me, I'll be just fine."
Donnel laughed helplessly as the head of the column turned into the main belly of the valley, the sight of multiple rope bridges spanning its expanse a great surprise to all who saw them. Ricken, at the very front, offered his thoughts. "People live here?!"
"Mad bastards," Vaike laughed as similar thoughts were voiced down the line. "Finding a way to live in harmony with these monsters must've taken a long time. Maybe they can tell us how to get the rest of the way without needing all this hoopla."
The Dark Knights muttered in agreement, sweat beading their brows. Ricken didn't scold them, too focused on the village carved into the mountainsides. "…Wait, something's wrong. The wyverns are avoiding the village like the plague, and I don't see villagers. Column, full haste for the bridges! Keep inside the barrier until we're there!"
The order was relayed down the line and everyone made full speed for the village's bridges, the sounds of screams and prayers soon reaching them. Once close enough, Vaike tore through the wall of wind with a horrid roar.
The village was under attack, villagers running down the bridges for dear life as men in ragged clothes and armor killed anyone they could get their hands on. Near the summit of the bridges, two wyverns could be seen attacking each other, the slight outlines of figures striking at each other atop them.
"Protect the villagers!" Ricken roared as the membrane of power collapsed and he sent a wave of wind to blow a rogue screaming off a bridge to his death. "Destroy these blackhearts to the last!"
The column roared into action, the Reavers screaming cries of bloodlust as they rushed after their leader. The Dark Knights took up position as support, herding the fleeing civilians to a safe place while firing whatever they could at any raider dumb enough to enter range.
Lissa took charge of the remaining cavaliers. "Branden, follow Vaike and the Reavers up the bridges, provide support where you can! Once you're up there, gather any villager lagging behind the others and return here, be their salvation!"
The cavalier saluted and turned to rally his fellows. "Cavaliers of Ylisse, to the aid of those we swore to protect! Onwards!"
The cavaliers roared up the bridges, charge pushing any pursuing raiders off if they weren't cut down. Branden led the charge with his full gusto, rescuing several villagers with daring charges that drove off their pursuers.
Behind him came Donnel, the former villager burning with the desire to protect the civilians. He'd once been in their shoes, and he wished nothing more than to stop this madness! Where Branden saved the villagers, a silver protector atop his mighty steed, Donnel tore the raiders apart.
Every swipe of his blade painted the wooden planks of the bridge crimson, severing arms, legs, and heads with ruthless precision. They came at him in twos, threes, even fours, but nothing could stop him. Not when he watched the blackhearts loom over the innocent and spill blood for sport.
"What ho, you fiendish knaves! Fall before the might of my Misstletein!"
The strangely boisterous shout grabbed Donnel's attention, his gaze going to an outcrop of rock across another bridge to his left. There was a man fighting a group of five raiders by himself, holding them off brilliantly but not making any headway.
"Why such obvious strikes?" Donnel wondered as he intercepted another raider, blocking their blow with his shield before running them through and kicking them off the bridge. "They're not doing anything except make him look silly."
Not to mention his shouting. Donnel cringed just listening to the man as he fought, the shouts distracting enough for a few glancing blows to make it past his guard.
"You call that an attack?! I've seen eel liver with more life than that! Let me show you a true hero's strike! Radiant DAAAAAAAWWNNNN!"
"My sword shrieks for your blood and my hand twitches for passion! Wait, that came out wrong, never mind that! Sacred STOOOOOOONNNESSS!"
"Give it some work man, you fight the progeny of legend! You're supposed to say something besides 'shut up nimrod'! Shadow SWOOOOOOORDDDD!"
Donnel shook his head as the man still made no headway against his opponents, but he felt oddly fond of the overly dramatic nutjob. Reminded him a bit of Owain and his love of 'cool' catchphrases. Then he growled as the raiders looked to surround the man, Donnel taking off down the bridge. "Hey, watch it stranger!"
His warning nearly came too late, the young man dodging two attacks by the skin of his teeth. Apparently he decided to get serious and Donnel made it in time to see him cut down two of the raiders in the same swing.
Only to fucking pose!
"Moron!" Donnel roared as he charged in and cut down the remaining raiders, turning to remand the other fighter with a thunderous scowl.
Only to freeze when he saw the young man staring at him in awe, a black blade with some kind of gibberish carved into it resting at his side. "What're you lookin' at? Ya damn near got yerself killed!"
The young man seemed to gather himself. "Hark, oh brave hero of Ylisse, it is I, Owain Dark! I have come at the behest of my benefactor to assist these people in their time of need!"
Donnel blinked several times before something connected in his brain. "Oh Naga, I raised a thespian, and one with no sense. Owain, what in the tarnation were you thinkin, posing like that with three other bloodthirsty bastards about to attack you?!"
Owain looked shocked, grandiose voice dropping to a stunned, but normal, volume. "Y-You know who I am?!"
"Sure as spit." Donnel stated, rolling his eyes as Owain sputtered in denial. "We've had yer cousins living with us the last… four years give 'er take. Ya look just like they described too, and I don' know anyone else that loved Misseltain as much as you do."
He nodded to Owain's right hand, the one holding his sword. "You were grabbin' your hand after that strike though, something yer pa should know 'bout?"
Owain gripped his hand and shook his head. "N-No, it's nothing. I… I'm just happy to see ya, Pa. I was afraid I'd have to hide who I was."
Donnel lost his frown for a smile. "Well… same to you, Owain. Glad to see my little Pie Maker's doin' well for himself."
Owain flushed, images of making many mud pies flashing before his eyes. "H-Hey, don't remind me of that! I'm not a kid!"
Donnel chuckled and shook his head. "Sure. Anyway, yer mother's here and will want a crack at ya when this is all over. Till then, up to seein' if yer old man still has it?"
Owain lit up like he'd been given the greatest honor of his life. And unknown to Donnel, it truly was. "Of course, I shall show you why I am the Scion of Legend!"
Donnel sighed and set off for the next bridge. "Just fer that, yer on latrine duty."
"Wait, no! Pa, wait!"
-Vaike-
As he tore a man in half, Vaike felt oddly calm.
It was strange really. All around him, he and his Reavers tore into the raiders with the ferocity of demons. Axes and fists turned once jeering and smug bastards into wailing babes, soiling themselves in desperation as they ran from the blood-mad Ylisseans.
So great was their fury that they paid little attention to their surroundings, Branden and his men acting as their shields. Really it was the whole point of the Reavers, get into the enemy and rip them to pieces with nary a thought to themselves.
But despite it all, with his fury the greatest of his fellows, Vaike felt calm. He didn't know why he was capable of coherent thought amid his rage, let alone able to make rational decisions when he was forcefully introducing one of the shitbag's head to his ass.
Curious, he paused after breaking one of the raiders over his knee and tossing the crippled sack of flesh to their doom. His hair stood on end, Armads dripping gore in his hand, and his teeth bared in open challenge. Yet, as he scanned the field of battle, he became calm whenever he zeroed in on the duel of wyverns further up the maze of bridges.
"Weird…" Vaike growled. "Looks like I'll be getting the answers today."
He took off running for the summit, throwing any raider foolish enough to stand before his fury into the valley below. He cared not for any wounds put into his flesh, Armads clearing the way ahead of him while his feet pounded the slick boards of the bridges.
By the time he reached the summit, what remained of the raiders had run off into the cliffs, doubtless soon to be hunted down by the wyverns. All that still fought was the man astride a wyvern baring signs of heavy abuse, his paunch marking him as the likely leader. His opponent was a young man with swept-back blonde hair wearing black armor and a mask that hid his eyes from the world, astride an elderly ewe decorated in familiar scars. They'd been fighting for a while, Vaike knew that much, and the raid leader was just the slightest bit quicker as exhaustion set in for both combatants.
The young man grunted as the leader's axe sank into his shoulder, the force throwing him from his saddle. His wyvern attempted to attack the other, but raking claws forced her away. Dismounted and with a deep wound in his shoulder, the young man was doomed against his opponent.
Vaike saw all of this in crystal clear clarity.
Before all thought was drowned in the purest torrent of rage he'd felt in all his life.
The young man, unaware of the witness to his defeat, sat up to glare at the man who'd dared to attack the village and ruin his goal. Before anything was said, the wyvern roared in pain, Armads sprouting from its wing joint in an instant. Before the young man could so much as gape, Vaike was upon the wyvern and literally clawing his way up its hide.
The raid leader attempted to strike and bit deeply into Vaike's flesh, the axe blade lodged in bone, but Vaike grabbed the shaft and pulled him in, the berserker's teeth sinking into the man's cheek before ripping it out.
The man roared in pain before Vaike got a hold of his head and started punching him, teeth anchoring and ripping at whatever flesh they could find while Vaike clawed the man to pieces. He tore out the man's eyes, punched a hole into the fat of the man's belly, and tore the man's arm from its socket.
As a final act of savagery, Vaike bit into the man's throat and tore it out before beating what was left of the man's life out with his own his own severed arm. The berserker then pulled Armads from the crippled wyvern and ended the creature's life with a single, heavy blow.
Vaike stood panting over the corpses, caked in gore and snarling like a rabid beast. Nothing had mattered to him in those moments more than seeing the man dead, absolutely nothing. Even as the rage cooled, its final act was to shove the ruined corpses off the summit and howl his victory for all to hear. The howl of a father defending his child.
Then rationality returned and he vomited.
"Naga…" He panted after heaving all he could give. "That… that was… that was awful. Holy crap… never been… that angry before… sweet heaven…"
He panted a bit more before a scaly maw came over and nuzzled him, Vaike looking over to see the elderly ewe staring at him. "Oh, hey… sorry ya had to see that old girl, I don't know what came over me."
The wyvern chuffed and nuzzled him again, making Vaike look back to the young man. He was sitting up and bandaging his wound, but Vaike felt himself slump as he looked back to the wyvern. "Oh, really? Well… this is a shitty impression."
He patted the wyvern's snout. "Well 'Nerva, thanks for letting me know. And 'fore you ask how I guessed, how many times have I given you a wash and cleaned your nest?"
The elder Minerva snorted and, for all intents and purposes, pouted. Vaike chuckled and scratched the spot he knew she loved before striding for the young man. "So, Mr. Mask, you got a name?"
The young man didn't look at him and didn't answer.
Vaike scowled and went to stand in front of him before squatting to look him right in the eyes of his mask. "Oi, I'm talking to you. Ain't it common manners to thank someone who's saved your life?"
"I don't thank animals." The young man bit out. "Let alone those that savage their foes."
Vaike's scowl deepened. "Well you're currently at my mercy and I ain't tryin to rip your throat out now am I? My boss lady's going to want to meet with you, and I can't exactly tell her your name's Mr. Mask, now can I?"
The young man just glared at him.
Vaike cracked a smile and held out a hand. "Well, at least I can tell you're no quitter despite being down for the count. Ain't that right, Gerome?"
Gerome scowled deeply, unknowingly making him look very similar to his father. "…How did you know?"
"Please," Vaike scoffed before jerking a thumb at the elder Minerva. "The only people that lizard will let ride her are you, me, and your mother. Considering she looks a lot older than when I saw her only a week ago, well…"
He stood, hand still outstretched. "That, and much as you may want to deny it, you got the honor of inheriting the sexiest jawline this side of Ylisse. So let me help you up and down these cliffs so you can get patched up. Least I can do after… all that nasty business."
Gerome slapped the hand away and struggled to his feet, Minerva waddled over to try and help him, but he held a hand out to stop her. All the while he continued to glare at Vaike. "…My lone goal this day was to release Minerva, to let her be amongst her own kind at last. It was not to run into an animal who dares wear the shape of a decent man. An idiot of a man, but a decent one."
"I will not associate myself with one such as you."
Vaike sighed and laid Armads over his shoulder. "Well… can't dissuade you otherwise, but Lissa's still going to want to talk to you. She'll patch up your shoulder too, so come on. Don't want you passing out trying to be a tough guy."
He started to walk off but paused when he reached the rope bridge. "…Oh, and Gerome?"
Vaike smiled and waved over his shoulder when he got a grunt of acknowledgment. "May not mean much, but I'm glad to see ya got a good head on your shoulders. Least it means ya take more after yer mother than this sad sack."
With that final shot at himself, Vaike began the long trek down the bridges, kicking any raider's corpse into the valley below as he passed them. There was a stream of silver flowing up the bridges, and amongst them the plain colors of the villagers.
Looked like it was time to regroup and reorganize.
-Lissa, One Hour Later-
"Thank you for your hospitality."
Lissa bowed to the village chief and ducked into the open air, her meeting with them concluded. Around her were the many sights and sounds of rebuilding, her guard helping the villagers wherever possible. As thanks, she'd been given enough of a special herb that grew in the valley for her whole column. When burned, it produced a smell the wyverns considered noxious, and it would last them until they were out of the valley.
But her main concern was the two young men that had been brought in as fellow defenders. She'd not gotten to speak to either of them before getting dragged into the meeting, but now she had the time to do so. Donnel and Vaike were supposed to be keeping an eye on them, so she just had to find them.
"Milady." Branden called out as he rode up to her, several of his cavaliers flanking him. "We've done a full sweep of the paths, there's not another raider in sight. The villagers should be safe for now."
Lissa sighed in mixed relief and frustration. "Good, then we can move on without having to worry about them. Did you find out why the wyverns were avoiding the place? With the attack, the villagers weren't able to light the herbs and I'd bet anything those raiders were egg thieves."
Branden nodded. "We received word that the same great flash we witnessed last night caused a great deal of the wyverns to fly off in a panic. Those that accosted us earlier today were the ones that flew off returning. Their roars were caused by the egg thieves as we thought."
Lissa cringed, guilt gnawing at her mind. She'd inadvertently opened this village to attack by the looks of it, and all because she couldn't control herself. "I… see, very well then. Continue to assist until I call for everyone to gather."
Branden nodded again and directed his riders to set off ahead of him. Before he left, he added: "I spotted your husband and Sir Vaike speaking with those two young men on the edge of the village, by the main bridge."
Lissa thanked him for the information and strode through the village to the bridge. She ignored everything until she got there, the four in question standing near the bridge. The blond in the mask stood well away from the other three.
"Donnel!" Lissa called when she saw her husband, running into his embrace as he turned to greet her. "I saw you taking those dastards down one after another!"
Donnel chuckled and pecked her cheek. "Same to you darlin'. Sumia'd be proud to see how well your flyin's gotten."
Lissa giggled and pecked him back before looking to the more distant young man. "Hmm… Wyvern rider, blonde, and that godsdamn jawline… That's Gerome isn't it?"
The blonde in question scowled at her. "…How is it that identifiable?"
"Kid, I delivered you." Lissa informed him bluntly. "You've had the jaw since you entered the world, no question it's you. Not to mention you're looking at Vaike with the same cautious face Cherche makes when she's approaching an angry bull."
Gerome scowled and looked away, Lissa shaking her head. "And you look just like him scowling like that too. You even cross your arms the same way!"
Gerome turned to the side and spat, crossing his arms the exact way Lissa mentioned. She smirked at him before looking to the other young man, who looked torn between utter exultation and crippling anxiety.
"This is Owain." Donnel introduced, the poor guy opening his mouth for a doubtlessly grandiose greeting. "He's… a bit of a buffoon if I'm honest, very dramatic, but his skills are up to snuff. Likes to call out his attacks though, so he'll need some disciplining."
"Pa!" Owain complained out of ingrained habit. "They're not dramatics, it's cool! I'm the Scion of Legend, I have to show off my moves to the masses!"
Lissa stared at him with a strange feeling bubbling in her chest. "…Pa?"
To the surprise of all, she burst into tears and rushed into Owain, nearly sending them tumbling onto the bridge. "Woah, Ma, calm down!"
"It's you, my baby boy!" Lissa babbled as she squeezed his torso as hard as she could. "Heaven above it's you! I… I always wanted to see you ever since Lucy mentioned you, but to actually have it happen is… is… bwaaaaaaaaahhhhh!"
Owain did his best to try and calm his mother. "Ma, Ma, it's alright! I'm beyond happy to see my noblest mother again, but-Hey, don't wipe your nose on my shirt!"
"Shut it." Lissa sniffled, pulling back a bit to look at him. "Just let me look at you, and none of the fruity stuff, got it buster?"
Owain clammed up and let Lissa inspect him, her eyes eventually landing on the guard covering the top of his right hand. "…What's that?"
Owain slumped at her observation and dropped his overly dramatic smile for a more genuine one. "Well… I never got to show you, since it only popped up after I came back, but… Here, just look."
He pulled back from her grip and undid the straps holding the guard in place. He took it off, smiled at her, and held up the back of his hand. "Surprise."
Lissa gaped as the Exalted Brand stared back at her, the familiar symbol representing something she'd long held deep in her heart.
"You… you have the Brand."
Her words were choked with emotion, a shaky hand going out to brush it gently. All she felt was skin, and Owain's smile showed only his honest hope she'd like what he was showing her. Just like when he came up with a new rock or stick thinking it was the coolest thing in the world.
Owain gave her a confident smile and wiped his nose cheekily. "See, I really am the Scion of Legend! Pretty cool, huh Ma?"
Lissa looked from the Brand to him to Donnel and back again before sinking to her knees and starting to sob. Then laugh. Then sob. Then laugh. Eventually the two emotions blended together until she was laughing and crying at the same time, sounding like the world's most confused ass in the process.
Donnel kneeled next to her and did his best to comfort her, but he could tell this would take a while. "Owain, as you can tell, that being on your hand means more to yer mother than you may realize. Fer now, I think we should take her somewhere quiet to calm down, so I have to ask."
"You and Gerome want to come with us? We could really use the help."
The sons shared a look with each other before Owain reached up to scratch his cheek. "Well… see… about that."
"We're kinda on a job right now."
Donnel blinked and frowned. "Job? Who are you working for?"
Owain's eyes turned away, a sure sign his answer was not going to be one his father would like. "Um…"
-Lady Montmorency, Lothlen, Two Days Later-
"They're late."
A man in the prime of his life turned from the balcony he was standing on, wavy blonde hair rustling in a salty breeze. "Indeed, they are, my love. It most likely has to do with that great light we saw last night."
His companion was a woman of the same age, long blonde hair styled into numerous curls as she sipped at a small cup. They were alone in their rooms, all decorated in the splendor expected of those controlling the greatest ports on the continent, and discussing their most recent hires.
Two mysterious young men with as much eccentricity as skill.
"If that is the case, I wonder if they'll even come back." Montmorency sighed as she placed her cup on a small table. "The Ylisseans are on their way after all, and they defeated that supposedly invincible garrison alongside our dear Colonel Derek. Did our eyes see who leads them?"
The man, her husband Guiche, shook his head. "Nay, they were unable to see the leader. The battle was too vicious, and the commander's fall from the heaven's forced them to flee alongside the remnants of the garrison. All they know is that someone amongst the Ylisseans flies a falicorn."
Montmorency frowned. "Oh? Then perhaps the Exalt and his Queen are coming to see us after all. Here I was thinking they'd go to see Sigmus, but good economic sense appears to have won out."
Guiche left the balcony and took the seat opposite her. "Let's not make assumptions quite yet, it's perfectly possible the falicorn belongs to Duchess Cordelia. If it is, I'm sure you'd love to spar with such a rapier wit."
"If it's Grandmaster Robin following her, we might as well sign on now." Montmorency huffed. "Someone of such brilliance would see our troubles taken care of within a day of his arrival. The only issues to such an ending are if Lord Yen'fay will arrive for his inspection, and if they make it through the valley in one piece."
"We shall see, my love." Guiche answered before reaching into his outer robe and pulling out a rose. "And before we leave, as always, a fresh rose from the gardens to make you the most radiant in the world."
Montmorency smiled and took the rose, practiced hands placing it in the perfect spot amongst her curls. "As always, you ever make my day brighter, Dear. Come, we may as well get to the day's business before the courtiers have a stroke."
"I wouldn't mind if a few of them had a stroke." Guiche drawled, making his wife cackle. "But it's as you say. Hopefully we'll receive news of our fledglings before day's end."
Montmorency gave him a sardonic smile before the couple put on the airs of ones in their positions. Once out of the rooms, they were swiftly inundated with the goings-on of their home, and had no time to speak to each other.
They did note that the various servants and messengers were a great deal more hurried than usual. No one would tell them why, what with the ever-present problems that came from running both the city they were in and its port. However, it did put them on paranoid edge.
When they entered the throne room, Montmorency took the larger chair decorated in gild and gold with luxurious blue-white cushions. To her right, Guiche took a silvered chair with dark red cushions, a decidedly humbler throne compared to his wife's.
Before them stretched the court, floors and columns of marble decorated in rich silken tapestries. Upon them lay the tales of the country and their patrons, the Divine Dragon Naga, and the Sea Dragon Tiamat. Courtiers wandered about the fine hall discussing politics and gossiping per usual, all avoiding the ceremonial guards that lined the long blue carpet leading up to the thrones. Upon the carpet stood the seal of Montmorency's lands.
And behind her throne rested the garish crimson banner of Valm.
Montmorency clapped her hands and the golden staff of her station was brought forth, the head worked to resemble a serpentine creature. She took it and tapped the base against the floor, calling the court to order.
When she had silence, she spoke, voice clear and strong. "Let us begin the day's business. Captain, bring forth the first of the supplicants."
The captain at the end of the hall saluted and opened the great doors, a group of six hooded figures striding into the hall. None were armed, but the cloaks on the figures looked well made. Not common petitioners at all.
Two strode before the others and pulled down their hoods as they kneeled, revealing Owain and Gerome. Owain spoke for them. "Lady Montmorency, Lord Guiche. We apologize for the late arrival, but a truly momentous happening delayed our return."
Montmorency looked pleased. "Owain, Gerome, it is good to see the fledglings return in one piece. Did you see to our people in the valley as ordered?"
"They are safe, as are the wyvern nests." Gerome reported, expression shifting to a subtle grimace. "Though… there were some 'others' that assisted of their own volition."
Montmorency looked to the still hooded members, Guiche speaking. "Then these are those who helped? Thank you, kind travelers, for assisting our people in their time of need. We shall be sure to reward you."
The shortest of the four walked forward and lowered their hood. "Well, would it be possible to discuss your message to my brother?"
The entire hall descended into shocked whispers as Lissa revealed herself, a quick flick throwing her cloak aside to reveal pristine robes of gold and green atop a pure white dress. In her hand she held a staff topped with an ornate head shaped like the Exalt's Brand, her halo framing her hair.
Behind her, Ricken, Donnel, and Vaike discarded their hooded cloaks to reveal their full splendor. Still unarmed, but a grand sight for all to behold.
Lissa met Montmorency's stunned gaze with a steady, unyielding stare. "We have responded to your summons, Lady Montmorency, Lord Guiche. So please, tell me."
Her staff cracked against the floor like a thunderbolt.
"What are your terms?"
Ch. End
Alright folks, that is the end of the chapter, and with it, the end of this fic being Grunts. As I mentioned at the beginning, this story has long ago gone beyond what I had planned Grunts to be, and as such, I am going to be giving it the name you now see.
I feel it fits, what with the games of gods being played on the mortal plane and our heroes going on long journeys in order to return home. I hope you'll all enjoy coming along with me on the rest of this odyssey!
And with that, the lone review response before we call it a day!
Branded King: Thanks for the kind words and the review! Feel free to PM me if you have any questions in this chapter!
That's all I got folks. My finals are now done, but I have a committee meeting next week and my MCAT looms over the new year. I'll attempt to see a new chapter through by new year's, but we'll just have to see.
For now, Ciao and Happy Holidays! (Just in case.)