Chapter 51: Fringe Reality

By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.

A/N: This week was really busy. REALLY busy. I still managed to keep my writing schedule up though, and now I can chill over the weekend. Definitely going to spend it writing when I can.

This chapter is trippy. Don't worry, it's going to get much worse next week.

N: Death can come at any time. That's fact understood by everyone now, moreso with the army's tactician. Erk is dead, and Samuel finds himself reminiscing about past happy memories...

Several months ago...

I bury my shaking foot into the frozen earth, and thick snow tickles the sides of my ankles. My heaving lungs take in a thick quantity of mountain air with each difficult step, and I tire after only a few minutes of exercise. The discomfort is akin to an intense workout...but motivated with nothing but my tenacity...I continue to push myself higher and higher up this snow-covered hill...

"Careful there friend, you musn't push yourself too hard. Remember, there's always tomorrow."

Erk and I are hiking up a small hill outside the gates of Höger. We'd begun doing this together after I first regained the feelings in my legs a couple weeks ago, though so far the goings been rough. The atrophy in my muscles were severe and absolute, and at first I could barely walk the bottom of the hill from the front door. However, after hours of hard work I'd finally reached the point I'm at now...just a few feet from reaching the hill's summit.

I said, "No...I want to get there today. I've been wanting to climb this hill since the day I first saw it outside my window. We will do this..."

With my arm firmly slung around my friend's shoulder, I heave my left leg forward. The limb barely moves despite my command, but it responds well enough that I eliminated more distance between ourselves and my goal...

Realizing that he can't convince me to stop, he instead showers me with a tirade of peppy words for encouragement. I push myself harder and harder to achieve this elementary goal...but for me I might as well have been climbing a mountain. Even so, my will is resolute. Muscle atrophy be damned, the human condition can and will overcome any obstacle in its path.

Erk said, "Come on, you're almost there! Just one more step! Push yourself!"

"Hwuaaaaaaagh!"

!

With one final gasp, I throw myself onto the powdery snow ahead. I squirm with the soft pillow-like substance as it cradled my weak body like my mother...and I lift my fist up in a victorious display of achievement.

Erk said, "You did it...you did it you bastard!"

I smile and laugh like a little boy. Erk joins me in the thick powder, and we frolic in a child-like banter. It truly felt like a reminder of a childhood long since passed. We spend the next hour making snow angels, eating snow, and constructing a snowman we named "Frosty".

We finish our labor and look over at the village below. I admired the beautiful snow-capped trees, the flowing rivers seeping with thermal groundwater, the few trumpeters flying through the sky, and the deafening silence that accompanied it all. A sight like this would've been rare to see in any place that wasn't named Yellowstone...

I said, "Erk, I really had fun today. Thank you for everything...I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for your help. I...I'm unsure of what else I can say. It's a shame today's your last day here..."

Erk was going home tomorrow, and today served as the last opportunity for us to climb this hill together. Admittingly, that was part of the reason I pushed so hard to come here when I did, because from here on out I don't know when I'll have another chance to have some good time with my buddy again.

He said, "But you know you're always welcome at my home. Once you get yourself settled, come vacation at my mentor's castle. We're a short ride from the coast, and I'm sure you'll want a warm break from...all this..."

He lifts a ball of snow, and I laugh. He has a point, eventually there will come a day when I'll want to return to the warm weather of my youth...and where else to do that than in the home of one of my closest friends?

I replied, " I'll make sure to give you a letter well in advance..."

"..."

"Erk...you're one of my oldest friends, you know that right? Even after all the things that transpired with me, you still stuck around. You came out here to help me too. I...I just want to know why. What do you see in me that you think is so important about saving?"

Erk pauses, and together we look out towards the sky. We're stuck in insightful thought, though I can't help but wonder what's going on in his mind.

He said, "Sam, you don't know this but...you were my first friend. Growing up, I always lived life deep inside the book within the comfort of my room. I never talked to anyone besides my parents and servants. You're the first guy around my age that I bonded with...and whether or not you meant it, you taught me that there's more to life than what you can read in a book. For that...thank you..."

"Erk..."

This purple haired mage...it's like he's my brother. The sense of love and comaraderie shared between us stands unmatched when compared to any obstacle that can stand in its way, whether it be distance, time, or even death. There's no one else I'd rather call my friend than him...

I said, "Erk...I love you, man."

"I love you too, brother."

Present...

My head lays folded down and closed on a table. The air is silent, except for the hushed sobbing of Serra standing nearby...

She said, "Oh Erky...why did you have to die?"

I'm at the castle's hospital ward, a room similar in style to its counterpart in Caelin. Brown candles illuminate the gray, cracked walls, and the open cubicle windows let in stuffing, warm air. Unused surgeon's supplies laid idle on a desk tucked in a forgotten corner of the room, with the latter having been put there by some over-anxious soldier. The place is mostly empty save for a lone cot harbored at a short distance from the front door, on top of which contained a body with a cloth over its head...

Pricilla said, "He...he was a valiant man. Always keeping to himself and at times uptight, but never refusing to give others his respect. He has my most gracious gratitude..."

A tear falls down her cheek, and she wipes it away. Her relationship with Erk had always been professional, though I suspect something else may have been there too. A feeling of remorse mixed in with a mustard seed of affection. Whether these suspicions were founded; I'd never know. Such a reality has now disappeared with the flicker of death. As is the tale of war...

Matthew said, "We likely would have lost the battle today if it wasn't for his help. His memory will forever live in us, both in death and in life. My only regret is that I didn't know him and better..."

A lump of guilt builds in my gut. Looking down on my friend's body makes me feel sick to my stomach and wished nothing more than permission to cry out in agony. I wanted to sob and share in the grief of my friends...but such a thing is incompatible with my persona. Lieutenant Vacia is a veteran who has no relationship with Erk of Etruria, and my emotions should display as such. All I can do right now is stomach the pain...

At least in the surface...

"..."

I look at Erk's body again. Observing his face, I catch a glimpse of...happiness? It's a light gesture of goodwill, surely the result of a self-imposed hallucination. The smile disappears as soon as it came, and I'm left bewildered with what just happened.

What?

...

I can't do this.

Standing up, I said, "E-Excuse me. I have some business I need to attend to."

My compatriots nod in silence and I vacate the room. I...couldn't stand to sit in that place any longer with him. Elimine forgive me for my weakness, but it's the only thing I could've done to save myself.

I walk through the winding halls and observe the unique architecture. Unlike Castle Caelin, the fortress is constructed in a gothic style, and I can see this in the depressing, rigid nature of the high walls. The little color brought in from the equally towering stained glass windows didn't do much to detract from the ambience either. Disappointed at the lack of inspiring options, I observe several busts of long-dead men, with a few containing tidbits of information much like a museum would. Curious, I elected to indulge in this triviality if only to get the sickening reminder of my dead friend out of my mind.

One is of a man who had long, curly hair much like my own. He had a large scar wrought around his neck, along with the dress of a warrior. His name was Octavo.

The plaque read: Octavo was a ruthless warrior that never figured out how to govern. He has feats that included subjugating the nearby Caelin, Thria, and Tuscana counties. At one point, he even held the city of Ostia under siege. However, just as the Lycian crown was about to fall to him, his jealous brother instigated a civil war back in the capital. The whole engagement turned out to be bloodless; Octava met his end when he succumbed to a bout of plague on the journey home. Out of fear of the disease his body wasn't interned into the Royal Mausoleum until the year 582.

Another is of a younger fellow with a short bowl cut. He reminds me of what Paul McCartney used to look in his younger years.

The plaque read: Richard was a ruler who differed from his contemporaries greatly. A peaceful soul, he was snubbed for the throne in favor of his more ambitious younger sister. He lived most his life singing songs and discussing philosophy at the forums. They thrust him into the throne when his sibling went through a period of temporary insanity, though his reign was reputable for being the first to suggest the abolition of slavery. After his sister came to, he retreated to the periphery of history again, living a peaceful life. He died at the old age of 90, having outlived his younger sister by decade.

Finally, I finish with another military man. His skin is noticeably tanner than the others, and his hair as pure as gold.

The plaque read: Atalon was the bastard child of Charles the Great, the product of a Lycian father and a Nabatan concubine. He lived the dawn of his existence in obscurity, eventually being called to the throne when all other available heirs died at the Battle of the Twin Peaks in 101. Despite objections regarding his heritage, he valiantly rounded up the survivors and fought back the Etrurian invaders at Ryerde in 111, and again at Ostia in 112. His efforts cultivated the end of the forty year's war, making him the most famous and cherished Lausian ruler of all time. After his death in 148, they founded a prestigious school in Ostia in his honor.

"Atalon..."

I'd heard his name sung by over-joyous bards in the tavern, but I never suspected he was of color. He must've been a man who had to deal with a lot of adversity in his life...though of a different substance of my own. I can't help but look up to this man, even if his descendants were a bunch of blue-blooded hacks.

I muttered, "Pity. I wonder how'd he'd react to the actions of his beloved country now..."

"..."

I leave and vacate the room quietly. Having quenched my curiosity, I'm able to more easily handle the burdens weighing down on my heart, and I return to my friends...

Later...

We buried Erk by a small tree near the castle. The ceremony was somber and held mostly in silence, though few attended besides the surviving members of Lyn's Legion and Priscilla. I helped put him into the earth with my own hands, and although the grief I felt at the moment was sickening...it made the healing process a little easier...

Having finished our labor, people say their final goodbyes. Pricilla reminisces about the polite gentleman she perceives him to be, and she leaves a white rose by his tombstone. Matthew said little, but he afforded his tomb a light nod and a polite tip of the hat. Dorcas muttered a few words, but Serra's farewell was a fair bit different...

"Erk..."

It leaves Serra and me alone after everyone returned to the safety of the castle. Looking at her face, I realize that this was saddest I'd ever seen her in my life. Tears streamed down the sides of her face like a depressed river delta, and her usually fair skin seemed cold to the touch. Even her hair, which was usually a source of pride for this presumptuous young cleric, is in a state of misery. I never suspected she felt this way about Erk...especially after all the strain the two went through in their journey together...

I said, "Serra, Erk really meant a lot to you...did he?"

Serra wipes some tears from her face and blew into her handkerchief. She's much more composed now, though still noticeably shaken.

She said, "Yeah, he did. We...we never really got along, and it's because I was always mean to him. I...just wish it could've ended differently..."

Erk told me plenty of stories of mistreatment at the hand of Serra. It was always "Erk do this ridiculous thing" or "Erk praise me for this", and the young man always rued his time of service with her. However, what Erk failed to understand is that the high-maintenance personality presented by Serra was a mask hiding a much more vulnerable personality...one that he possibility could've reached had he been a bit more patient.

I asked, "Would you have done anything differently?"

Serra nodded, "Yes. I think...I would've treated him better and been more respectful. Maybe then our friendship really would have flourished...and I'd gather the strength needed to tell him I loved him..."

!

Serra...loved Erk. In my old world, I often observed people be mean towards their crushes to hide their feelings towards them. I never thought such behavior would carry on over here...but it would appear that I'm wrong. I can feel empathetic towards Serra's plight. Animosity can often be a barrier in a relationship...much like my relationship with Lyn...

Oh, Lyn. I wonder how she's doing now. I hope she's okay...

Serra sighs and then walks back towards the castle. I carry on close behind her, not wanting to find myself alone near dusk...

She said, "Pity. I'll live the rest of my life cherishing the few bountiful moments we shared. Other than that, I'm afraid I must move on..."

"As you should."

She continued, "Come. Let's go eat some dinner. I'm sure you haven't eaten in a while..."

An hour past dusk...

After eating a plain dinner of insignificant regard, I discussed our next move with the lords. We met up in Lord Darin's old study near the main throne room, and the air is crisp. His furnishings were comfortable and expertly made from the efforts of the finest craftsman of Illia. Flanking bookcases rose from the wood like towering golems guarding the darkest secrets of house Laus, with the nearby smaller cabinets serving as gargoyles to these intimidating beasts. The main table we took charge of felt like the epicenter of this immortal stare off between fictional creatures, though none of us cared.

Hector said, "Yawn. That sums up the plan. We'll be shadowing the Lausian army in the morning. I doubt they'll go far."

Eliwood agreed, ". We'll leave at dawn, so everyone go to bed. We can discuss m-...Lieutenant?"

This makes little sense. The Lausian army is riding east. Surely if they'd want to start a rebellion they'd go south to meet with their Ryerdian allies...

...!

Hearing Eliwood's voice jolts me back to reality.

I said, "My apologies, I just find something unusual. Answer me this question, are and Ryerde still allies?"

Laus and Ryderde have been traditional allies for several centuries. It started when the former came the latter's defense during a war in the year 689, and they'd been fairly close since.

Hector shook his head, "No. Erik declined to marry their princess last year. This grave political insult didn't sit well with Marquess Ryerde, and relations between the two cantons haven't been...good."

I rubbed my chin, "I see. Then what good would they do to travel East?"

Eliwood shrugged his shoulders, "Dunno. I assume we'll find out soon enough, however. May we finally retire for the evening?"

Eliwood's tiredness is visible for all to see. His eyes are droopy from the night's burden, and he still probably has a headache from all the alcohol he consumed earlier. A man like him deserves to be sleeping away his aches and pains, so I let him. Besides, it's almost midnight...

I said, "Yeah, my apologies. Go ahead. Hector, you mentioned to me earlier you wanted to brief Oswin right? You should do that."

He replied, "Alright. I'll go do it, but not because you told me too."

I rolled my eyes, "Sure."

We leave and I take to my bedding in one of Lord Darin's many guest rooms. Being here really feels like a hotel, with each room being of varied quality. At the east wing resided all the luxurious rooms, where the royals along with the nobility slept the night away in relative comfort. The south wing had the knight's quarters, while the west contained the servant's dwellings. I did not sleep in any of these places. Instead, I set up a hammock atop the castle's keep, as the ventilation here was much better than indoors.

Better here than anywhere else. Now...time to get some shut-eye...

Zzzzzzzz...

!

I hadn't even passed into REM sleep when Matthew wakes me up. My disheveled hair flops around my face like a dry rag, and he hadn't even changed out of his pajamas. I hear some light rumbling coming from downstairs, though the lack of moonlight made it difficult to see what was going on...

He said, "Samuel, I'm sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, but we require your services immediately. Mercenaries under the employ of Laus have broken into the castle, and our forces have retreated to the throne. We will make our defense there."

I nod groggily and hurriedly follow him downstairs. Through the torchlight I spied that the hour hand had reached twelve, a fitting hour for a group of travelers to be fighting for their lives...

We reach the throne room quickly, and I'm appalled by the miserable state of affairs. Several of our own men were fighting in a state not befitting of my standards, though I can't blame them. They were all fighting with sleep-deprivation, tiredness, and anxiety on their minds. In any other situation I wouldn't dare to confront the enemy like this...but I suppose there's a first time for everything.

I find Hector and Eliwood huddled near the throne. They were talking about a strategy to get ourselves out of this mess, and I kindly inserted myself into their discussion.

I asked, "What's the situation?"

Eliwood replied, "We're being attacked from all fronts. North, South, East, and West. They've snuck in despite the watch we've set up. To my knowledge, they do not intend to take the castle, but finish what Erik could not."

"Crud..."

My heart jumps with anxiety, so I take a quick swig of whiskey from my canteen. Eliwood and Hector give me a look of disgust, but I disregard their concerns and discard the container like it was business as usual. It was business as usual.

I said, "All right, let's get a head count of everyone here. Afterwards, I want everyone to take on defensive positions. This is a siege gentleman. We must hold out for as long as we can!"

I salute my superiors, and they follow suit. Looking out towards our forces again, I'm again struck by the bleakness of the situation.

The entire fortress is dark, so much so I can't see beyond a one meter radius of my person. The air is stuffy and miserable, while also responsive to the smallest stimuli of sound. Evil shadows seem to lurk in every orifice, and the aura is anxious. This represented the worst place to defend in the event of an attack, with the only worser situation being an attack say, inside the boundaries of a Carazanite jungle.

Thinking about that sends a sting of pain to my stomach. I still can't shake the memory of that never ending hellhole from my mind. It gnaws at my soul like a parasitic worm swimming through my veins, sapping my conscious of my will and replacing it with anxiety-inducing miasma. It's the worst disease known to man, but I can't think of any way to shake it. If there is any way to shake it...

I've been noticing it over these past few days; my anxiety. It started the night after Rebecca nearly died. I tossed and turned on my bed for hours lamenting how I could've avoided this...

What if we had just run away? No, Rebecca isn't the person to do that without a fight. I should've noticed her injury sooner. It's my job to keep my people safe...

Eventually, this developed into full-on insomnia. It exhausted me beyond measure, and I thirsted for the morning sun to distract me from this predicament. Although this experience had negative effects on my health, it served as the first time I truly came to terms with the responsibility entrusted to me...

That time it may have been Rebecca's life in the balance, but my job requires me to look over many more souls. These people mean so much to me, and although many of them are nothing more than mere acquaintances, many more are my dearest friends. Rebecca, Lowen, Serra, Eliwood...the list goes on. They've placed their deepest trust in my ability to keep them alive...a trust I've already breached with Erk's death.

...

Was Erk's death the first casualty in our army? Technically, the answer was no. He had not entered Eliwood's service at the time of his death, but that still doesn't detract from the fault directed towards me. I was foolish enough not to consider civilians taking part in the field of war, and had I been under the service of any other lord, the price for my ineptitude would've been my immediate dismissal. Instead, my dearest friend paid that price, who now sits in a grave six feet underground.

...

Occasionally, I'll get flashes of his gray face peering over me behind a blood-red background. I...fear this disease might be something more serious than I initially suspected. What's...going to happen to me? This uncertainty...it's overwhelming. The only guarantee is that my anxiety will get worse with time, and with it my consumption of brandy to quell it.

Speaking of which, the affects of my drink were now starting to come to bear...

I take a stress-free sigh and realize that while I was wandering through the labyrinth of my inner thoughts, I'd accidentally wandered into some unknown corner of Castle Laus. The little moonlight leaking through the ceiling reveals a place I hadn't seen before, and looking around, I think I'm somewhere between the south and west wings. A place scarcely attended to by anyone besides the most conflicted on individuals...

The north wing...home to the castle's prisoners. As the most secure prison in the land, Laus' notorious murderers, arsonists, and killers all dwelled within these filthy cells. There is scarcely a lumen of moonlight coming through the wall, but the sensitive acoustics notifies the worst of society of my presence.

I close my ears expecting the jeering of a mountain of men, but it never comes. Instead, I'm met with a lone whimper near the end of the compound, a plea from a former enemy I'd made the day before.

I disregard the dead leers from the other inmates and make my way towards Erik, crown prince of Laus. We'd thrown him in here while we waited for a Pharean agent to prepare for prolonged incarceration, though we did not treat him cruelly. We fed him regularly and allowed the occasional audience with his butler, along with residence in a cell more lavishly furnished than Eliwood's. He should be rather pleased with his state of affairs, but he isn't.

Instead, he looks at me with a pair of eyes that should belong on a dead body. He said, "Tactician...I've fallen into the worst fate. Abandoned by my father and left for dead. I...don't know what to do with myself."

Fortunately for me, my efforts to erase his memory have been successful. He has no recollection of the identity that I hid underneath my mask, and so, never the one to leave a grief-stricken man alone, I help him with his plight. He is after all, human.

I said, "Spend these next few weeks contemplating about the man you want to become, Erik. Unlike these other louts you've locked up for life, you have a future once you regain your freedom. Don't waste it, otherwise people like me might come along to stop you. Who knows...they may not be as lenient as my masters are to you now."

Erik scratches the bottom of his jaw. Serra has done an excellent job in putting it back together after I'd smashed it, though evidently it still brings him a moderate amount of pain.

"I'll make a note of that. Mark my words, Lieutenant. I'll turn over a new leaf after I become marquess of this land. I'll treat my citizens fairly, and prosperity will become a matter of policy. History will know me as a just, and right ruler."

I roll my eyes, scarcely hiding my skepticism. As cynical as it may sound, I'm of the camp that believes people never change unless coerced by their environment. While on the surface Erik may appear to have a remorseful heart, liberating him will only enable a streamline to his old ways. It's an inevitability that will eventually lead to more death and suffering in the canton of Laus, though it's not my job to deal with it.

I said plainly, "Sure."

Not wishing to spend another moment with this pitiful excuse of a man, I turn my back on him and walk away. He calls out my name, "Kenan! Where do you think you're going?"

I replied, "I must return to the rest of my army. Some of your goons stuck around and paid us a visit. There's a battle to be won."

"..."

Erik lapses again, though this time it's with confusion. He asked, "Battle? What battle?"

I confidently replied, "Have you not been listening to the cries of men and steel from your gilded cage? Please tell me your not going ins-"

"..."

My eyes go wide open with shock. Closing my eyes, I try to focus on the sounds of war originating from an area not too far away...but I fail. The air is as still as an idle river, and there's no sign of fighting besides the peaceful summer night toying with my senses. Feeling uneasy, I said, "What's...what's going on here?!"

Erik said it blunt, "Samuel, there never was a battle. In fact, your friends are perfectly safe snoozing away in their beds. The only one out and about...is you."

I didn't like the tone from Erik's voice. It sounds much more commanding and omniscient than it was before, only heightening my nervousness. I question my mind and wonder if this is the beginning of something much worse.

Am I...delusional?

I draw my sword and point it at Erik. I demanded, "What type of cruel joke is this?! How do you know my name?! Explain yourself!"

He stares at the blade at my tip as if it were harmless to him. That may as well have been the case. He said, "There's nothing to explain, as you know the answer yourself. You should just be glad I'm not an agent of that accursed doctor."

Doctor?

He's referring to the plague doctor that's been visiting me in my dreams. He's the single reason I haven't had a decent night of sleep in little under a month, though I'm curious about how Erik knew him.

I said, "How...how do you know him? Am I dreaming?"

Erik smiled, "I don't know why you haven't caught onto it already. You and I both know the north wing doesn't exist in Castle Laus. In addition, why would I be speaking to you if I've been unconscious since this afternoon?"

That makes sense...I think. Something still doesn't add up, like the identity of this entity before me. Not like I'm in any mood to complain; this is the first dream I've had in a while that's gone along relatively peacefully.

I said, "Fair point. If this is a dream, and I'm thinking it is, then what are you? I assume you're not the real Erik, correct?"

He nods, "I'm a being that's been with you since the very start, though I've only appeared in your darkest moments. That's what I think I am, however. I've only surmised this because of the memories you keep in your conciousness."

This...thing we'll call it, is not Sothis nor is it Azazel. It appears to be an entity cradling between the realms of reality and fiction, though that's all I can put together with the current information.

I asked, "So...what are you? My conscious?"

Erik shrugged, "Perhaps. Let me speak to you in my true form. I think it may answer some of your questions..."

!

Suddenly, a ball of light illuminates the dark cell, only to disappear just as quickly. I rub my eyes to see Erik's clothes strewn out on the floor messily, though some...creature frolicked inside its new cloth-like den.

The creature pok es it head out from the pile, revealing a cute, and adorable brown ferret with a white face.

I said, "No way."

What came next was equally jarring. The ferret...opened its mouth to speak. It talked with an accent as graceful as the tongue they shared in the British Isles.

It said, "Hello. This is my true form. If you wish to pet me, you may."

I decline, but only after I bit my tongue. These amazing rodents were my favorite animals growing up as a kid, and I recall having one in my home during grade school. Why this "thing" became one was a question I do not know the answer to, though I fear the reason may have some dark undertones.

Thankfully, those concerns were unfounded.

I said, "I...why are you a ferret?"

It replied, "I don't know. But using your previous deductions, if I am a materialization of your consciousness, then I should appear in the form of something you treasure."

Baffled, I wanted to test how deep this ferret's knowledge of me went. I asked, "Do...you know why I like ferrets?"

It replied, "You love ferrets because of their fluffy fur and warm bodies. That is all I know."

Interesting. This ferret can recall the past, but only certain details. He's restricted to referring things in the present tense too.

Wanting for more information, I asked it about its name. I asked, "What...can I call you?"

It said, "You...may call me whatever you like. Just as long as it's not something too ridiculous, I will wear any name given to me by my master with pride."

"Master?"

It nodded, "Are you not the master of this realm? The voidwalker from another world?"

"I...think I am. Now...what should I call you?"

"..."

I cross my arms over my body and think long and hard about the name I should give this "thing". If it's indeed my conciousness, then I give it a name to reflect the respect I have for it.

The ferret looks on with patience, and it smiles when it sees that I had finally come to a decision.

I said, "Your name will be Phileas."

Phileas nodded approvingly, "A fine name, and I will accept it. Ah...it appears the fog is clearing up. Our time today is coming to end."

He shakes himself of his overgrown chains and trots in between the bars of his cell. I look on blankly, though I quickly notice his slight limp.

I asked, "Phileas! Are you injured?"

He shook his head, "Just a small cyst underneath my paw. Do not fret about it, master. It will not slow me down."

Before leaving, he tells me one last thing. His mannerisms suggest it is of great importance. He said, "Watch yourself, young master. Do not venture forth alone and always keep your watch handy."

Confused, I replied, "Watch myself?! What do you mean?"

Phileas ignores me, and then disappears past a corner. I churn my legs to chase him, but I'm overwhelmed by the sight of a bright white light.

"What the—"

I fight against the sensation to wake up, and I call out Phileas' name in a vain attempt to bring him back. I exclaimed, "Phileas! Phileas! Get back here! Phileas!"

But they fall on deaf ears. Eventually, my eyes shut close despite my best efforts, and I'm transported to a world I'm all too familiar.

In other words, I wake up...

Chapter ?: Change

By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo

Of Kai receiving a very special letter.

Kai Caelin is a fourteen-year-old boy from a village near Bulgar, Sacae. He's a green-haired lad who lived most of his life helping his mother on their orchard, a quaint little place famous for producing apples, apricots, and peaches. He lived there happily with his mother, a beautiful woman named Lyn, and single sister, a white-haired girl named Lani for the past thirteen years of his life. Although the goings were comfortable, Kai wanted more.

His family used to be bigger than it is now. At one point, he had an additional sister and a father living with him on the orchard, but his sister disappeared shortly after his father passed away from some unexplainable illness. His mother, of whom he owed his hair color to, left him and his sister with Marquess Pharae while she went off to search for her lost sibling. It took her three years to return, and afterwards they went back to their mother's homeland. His mother never mentioned what had happened during her leave of absence, though the somber mood that would arise during her daughter's birthday implied enough.

The daughter, a white-haired girl named Carmel, was Kai's older twin sister. Kai didn't remember much about her other than a few glimpses from his younger years, most of which occurred during the trip his parents took them on during the year of 987. He seldom finds much reason to think about her either, between the orchard and the relationships he had with his two remaining family, there wasn't much reason to. Besides, losing family members was a commonplace thing in the land of Elibe, so time was better spent cherishing the family you still have than mourning over the ones you lost.

Kai loves his mother and sister dearly. He often spends long hours blissfully recanting stories with them on the orchard, and they'd return with interesting tales of their own. Sometimes Lani would mention humorous memories they shared in the schoolhouse just down the road, and they'd laugh as they reminisced about those simpler times. His mother would touch on a few tales about his father, a person who in Kai's eyes, was a troubled soul with problems of his own. He did not understand why his mother would bother to marry a fugitive like him, but in the words of his mother's friend Florina: "Love is the ultimate equalizer".

To make things short, he seldom asked questions about him. Just like his twin sister. To do so would bring pain to his mother, and that was something to avoid when possible. His personality prohibited such things...

Now, what of Kai the person? In terms of size, he's rather unremarkable. He stands at about five feet and two inches, a height below average among people of his age. He's neither handsome nor ugly, though his mother says that he'll grow into a rather handsome young man once his jawline develops further. In terms of strength, he's a little below average amongst the other farm boys in the village, though still strong by noble terms. He's introverted and keeps to himself when allowed to, but will not hesitate to dwell into conversation should the situation require it. This also had the inverse effect of making him intelligent and well-read when compared to the other children in the village, but his uniqueness ended there.

With all this in mind, Kai expected to live and work in the orchard for his entire life. In four years he'll graduate school and acquire management of the orchard so his mother could finally rest her tired hands, afterward Kai will take on a wife from the unremarkable populace here in the village. It'll probably be one of his nice school friends, like Lucy or Sarah, or perhaps even Lani since they share no blood relation. He'll work until he became of retirement age, after which he'll hand the orchard down to his offspring. It'll be a bland but peaceful existence faraway from the excitement and dangers of the outside world. It'll be everything Kai ever wanted from life...right?

That fate all changed when Lani came scurrying through the village with a look of wonder across her face. She burst through the front door like a cannonball breaking through the air, shocking Kai and Lyn, who were both busy making lunch in the kitchen. Although Lani's mannerisms made Lyn fear that some disaster had befallen on the orchard, Kai looks on with secretive joy that something had finally broken the dull monotony of his day.

She said, "Aunt Lyn! There's an unusual cloaked man looking for you. He said he knows you and brings a message from Marquess Ostia."

Marquess Ostia, Kai thought. I wonder what business he has with Mom.

Marquess Ostia was the most powerful man in all of Lycia. He and his mother were friends dating back to a time before Kai was even born, and he'd met the man at a New Year's ball last year. He was a respectable imposing figure who must've spent years perfecting the politicking that often infested royal courts, though he treated Kai and his sister kindly. He even introduced them to his daughter Lilina, who is a friend of Kai's own Roy. Recalling the memory sends a short burst of joy through Kai's body; that day was a joyful occasion that united Roy, Kai, Lilina, and Lani together for a night of fun. It truly was something the young man would never forget...

Lyn puts down her cutting knife and asks Kai to help her quickly settle their business. Turning towards Laniakea, she said, "Very well. Go ahead and invite him to our household. I'm sure he must be tired from the long journey."

"Okay Aunt Lyn."

Laniakea takes her leave while Kai and Lyn did their best to wrap up dinner. The dish is an old favorite of the family, an old Sacaen broth derived from pork. However, the thought of devouring this delicious dish isn't enough to quell the curiosity from Kai's mind. He wonders about the inflection that his mother put into her words earlier, or rather the sense that she knew more than she put on.

Unable to hold in his interest, Kai asked, "Mother, do you know the messenger?"

Lyn nods, and then briefly reflected on a long distance memory. Her face wrinkles as she remembered the sounds of war. She said, "Yes. The man's name is Matthew, an old acquaintance of your father."

Matthew...

Kai nodded politely, careful to not cross over any thought-provoking line. He said, "I see. What business does he have with us?"

Lyn sighs, as if reluctant to tell Kai about what she knew. However, even she understood that holding that information was would only serve to negatively affect her son. She said, "He wants to offer you and Lani admission to a school."

Hearing those words causes Kai's ears to perk up. A school? A way out from this boring place?

Hardly containing his excitement, he inquired, "Which school, mother? Is it Gordonstoun in Etruria? Columbia in Bern? Perhaps even the Abbey in Kafti?"

"..."

Lyn hesitates and brings her son close. The fear in her grasp is damning. This leaves Kai speechless, though he soon understands why. Lyn, his mother, did not want to let his little boy go.

"Mom..."

Lyn sniffles and wipes a tear out her eye. Composing herself, she finally says the words Kai's been waiting.

"You and Lani will be invited to the Academy of Atalonia, in Ostia. It...is one of the most prestigious learning institutions in the land..."

A/N: I probably won't be writing the sequel for another...six months. On a side note, I'm developing a short mini-series for Three Houses. It's a fairly interesting premise, and I should have the first chapter out by the end of the weekend.