Chapter 84: Foggy Inquiries
By Sodiumchlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.
N: In the midst of battle, the frontline is bound to be chaotic. In light of this, Heath rushes Samuel into a nearby house for his own safety. Before entering the home, Samuel recalls a dream he had that night. A dream that involves an unfamiliar face he will soon encounter.
...?
"Hmm...now this is pleasant."
Samuel smiled as he felt the warm water of the underlying spring tickle his toes. It brought him unmatched warmth and comfort, delivering an aura of ease into the tactician's bones. Raising his head, he took in the humid air around him, the mist shaking away the pain. Looking around, he was satisfied to see that he's alone in these hot springs, a gift brought upon mankind by the natural environment.
Samuel sunk his head into the water. His pores opened up in an instant, providing well needed reinforcement to the magical binding inside of his skin. Despite that sensation, Samuel noted something unusual about the water. It was tinted brown, which was normal, but the waves were slightly distorted. Intrigued by this development, he slapped his palm onto the pool. As expected, the liquid oscillated...though not with the shape one would expect. Mangled rays vibrated from the point of contact.
"That's...weird." Samuel said while clasping his hand. "It should have sent out repeating circles."
Samuel sat there for a moment and then snapped his fingers. It's as if a candle had just been lit in his mind. "That's it! I must be dreaming! What a wonderful dream this is!"
He stood up and looked around him. Besides the spring, his environment was completely covered in darkness. He placed his hand underneath his chin. "I wonder, does this mean I'm lucid dreaming? Can I affect the world around me?" He stopped and shook his head. "Do I want to change this, though? Everything is so pleasing. What could possibly be better than this?"
Samuel sat back down, when suddenly, an idea appeared in his head. "Oh, that's right." He extended his hand out and imagined a pair of water-proof earbuds. As if by magic, they appeared on his palm, shining a sleek white. Samuel put them in and chuckled when the surrounding sounds dissipated into nothing.
"Neat. What should I listen to today? Something like rock? Or perhaps I should chill with some jazz. Or, maybe reconnect with my roots by blaring something folk? Christmas music wouldn't be out of season, either. Hmm...so many choices. I don't have many opportunities to do this."
Samuel shrugged and reached behind him for his phone. Upon realizing he doesn't have one, he conjured that as well. He turned it on and flipped over to his favored streaming app, placing his finger firmly on the "shuffle" button. Then he settled down and waited for the music.
He waited for a moment, then another. Blinking his eyes, he realized that with the exception of a few songs, he'd forgotten all of them through the time he'd been in Elibe. Samuel groaned and stood up from his position.
He said, "That...completely ruined my day. Screw this dream."
Samuel snapped his fingers, and instantaneously, he found himself in a different location with a dry set of clothing on him. He was on the topmost floor of a small tower, its stone structure jutted out from the earth like an obelisk. Raising his brow, Samuel gazed out towards the surrounding environment. It was green and completely flat, much like the plains of Sacae.
"What the...this isn't what I had in mind. Where am I?"
!
A voice appeared behind him. "Excuse me, have you seen my Mother?"
Samuel turned around and flinched when he came face-to-face with an unfamiliar person. She was a girl, probably around her early teens, with a worried expression on her face. She had green hair held back by a single band, and possessed striking blue eyes.
Samuel replied, "Wha...what? Who are you?"
The girl continued on, "Have you seen my Mother? There's something I need to give her."
Discerning that he had more to gain by going along with the girl's requests, Samuel shook his head. "Your mother? I don't know what you mean? To my understanding, the only person I've seen is you."
"Oh."
The girl lowered her head, disappointed. She dug into her pocket and grabbed something metallic to show to Samuel. To his surprise, it was a knife. An incredibly sharp knife.
Samuel took a step back. "Woah! Careful where you point that thing! Why would your mom want that?"
The girl's face stayed fixated on the same sense of worry. She replied coldly, "So I may end her life. You see, my Mother is a very bad person. I just hadn't realized it before."
The girl took the knife and flipped its grip, having it to where the sharp end faced her instead of Samuel. "Mister, do you know what it's like to be told you're useless? To have the one person who raised you, the one person you adore the most, be the one who brings you the most pain? That's the reality I live in, Mister."
Samuel's eyes turned wide with astonishment, and his heart started to beat a thousand iterations per minute. "Woah, I don't know who you are, but you shouldn't be handling that knife like that. You might hurt yourself."
The girl froze in place. A tear appeared under her eyes, a single indication of the inexplicable sadness in her heart. "The world wants me to be sad. I wear an expression of happiness wherever I go, but it's a mask I use to ensure I don't burden others. Regardless, there's only one way I can see happiness. Either she meets the reaper, or I do."
The girl took the knife and flipped it again. This time, the sharp end rested tightly in her hand, drawing blood. She handed the weapon over to Samuel, whose hand shook as he took the handle.
She left him with one final message. The message ingrained itself into Samuel's mind, unable to be shaken despite his best efforts. "I am incapable of helping myself. This choice is yours."
"...Hey, we're here."
Samuel raises his head just as the self-imposed bubble of consciousness inside his mind pops. Squinting his eyes, he follows his bodyguard, Heath, as they enter a house located some distance away from the battlefield. The sounds of magical explosions, screaming men, and the clang of metal ring some distance away.
Heath says, "We should put you in here. I doubt the enemy lurks around here. You should be safe, and able to conduct your business as you see fit."
Samuel nods, and he places his artificial hand over the front door's knob. He swiftly glances at the rustic, seemingly ordinary make of the door. It's sturdy and brown, evident from the oak trees sourced from the forest nearby. The brick walls and red roof are ordinary to behold as well. There's no reason to raise any red flags, Samuel reasons. With that in mind, the two enter the abode.
Samuel announces, "Hey! Is anyone home? We need to borrow your house for a bit."
Heath says, "I don't see anyone in here. I wonder if this is someone's summer home?"
Samuel considers the proposition, but shrugs his shoulders. Instead, he scans his surroundings. The first thing he notices is the lack of light in the building, the sole sources of it coming from an open window in the kitchen and the opening behind them. Then, he sees the silhouette of a lonely sofa in the living room, some disingenuous paintings on the wall, and books littered throughout the ground. Heath digs into his pack to retrieve a candle and light up the room.
Samuel says, "No need. I got this." He whispers a minor incantation under his breath, a small, light purple flame appears at his side. He smiles first at his summoned object, and then at his companion. "Call it...mage's privilege. It comes with the robes."
Heath's face remains emotionless under the dim, purple light. But a hint of revulsion leaves his form. "Sure man, call it what you want. We should get se—what?!"
Samuel raises his brow, unsure of what Heath means by his reaction. This leaves the wyvern knight no choice but to physically shift his head over to what he saw. It takes Samuel a second for his eyes to make sense of a dark form in a sea of black. Not just a form, but two.
"What the hell..."
Samuel focuses his mind and sends the flame closer inside. The purple entity floats at a glacial pace, made so by Samuel's unfamiliarity with the task at hand. I can summon this thing to follow me...but having it go out on its own is different. Then, to his dismay, the flame sinks down towards the ground. Fuck. Erk didn't do good enough of a job teaching me this!
!
"Eeeeeek! Get away from me!"
A voice emerges from the dark. The flame at last reaches its destination, and reveals a girl huddled against the corner. She has a knife firmly in her hand, the weapon pointed out towards them. Her face is racked with sweat and fear, though her eyes burn with determination that Samuel finds intimidating. She's also covering what appears to be a man behind her, of whom neither can identify under the light.
The girl motions her blade towards them, her feet shaking underneath her. "Back! Get back, you villains! I will not h-hesitate to cut your throats out!"
Samuel and Heath shoot a glance at each other, mentally registering with one another of the hesitance in her voice. I doubt this girl could hurt anyone with that thing. Samuel thinks. Regardless, he whispers to his companion to take caution. She looks desperate, and if Samuel knows anything, it's that desperation breeds violence. Violence isn't something he, nor the honorable knight desire for this innocent soul.
Samuel says, "Woah, no need to be so hostile. We're only here to—"
Samuel hesitates, his eyes getting a better look of the girl in front of him. He notices her green hair, her piercing blue eyes, and the familiarity in her face. He'd never met this girl before...yet...
"Ahhhhh!"
The girl charges at him, her weapon trained for his head. Samuel would have been caught entirely off guard, and likely seriously injured, had it not been for the actions of his companion. Heath swiftly grabs the girl by her wrist and raises her up into the air, the force causing her to drop her weapon. The knife hits the ground with a metallic thud.
She says, "Ah! Mo...Mother! Help me!"
Unimpressed, Heath tightens his grip on her. Facing Samuel, he says, "I can tell by the look of your face you have no intention of punishing her for her actions. So, what will it be, tactician?"
Samuel sighs and slowly picks up the knife from the ground. He observes his reflection from the dull metal and rotates the shaft to get a better view of its make. He notes its fragile structural integrity, the soft nature of the metal, and the shoddy craftsmanship of its handle. It's a terrible weapon to wield, making Samuel wonder if whoever had given this to her held any concern for her wellbeing.
He mutters, "I wouldn't have given this to any of my soldiers, much less Lyn or Lani." He looks the girl dead in the eye, reciprocating the intimidation received from her tenfold. "Did you intend to kill me...with this? You would've been lucky to break my skin with it. Not a very smart thing to do, don't you think?"
The girl struggles under Heath's restraint. Tears stream from her eyes, bringing pity from both of the men. "I don't care! I must...defend my patient! You villains will pay!"
Samuel groans and tosses the knife away. He doesn't react as the metal, as expected, shatters behind him. The girl's eyes widen with shock, taken aback. He says, "Patient? Is that who that is? So...I take it that's why you were acting out of self defense?"
The girl frantically nods. "Yes! There's a battle going on outside, and there are villains afoot everywhere! Are you here to bring harm onto us? Are you here as enemies of the Bl—"
Samuel places his finger above the girl's lips, ceasing her speech. "Don't finish that sentence. Off my morality, I want to help you. But, if you are with the organization I suspect you to be with, I will have no choice but to make you my enemy. Don't make a mistake you will regret."
Heath raises his brow at him, but says nothing. Samuel motions for him to release her. She lands on the ground softly, rubbing her wrist. She takes a step back closer into the wall.
Samuel says, "Your patient. How bad are their injuries? Be honest."
The girl squeaks, "It's bad. Please...he's bleeding out. Can you help me?"
Samuel nods silently retrieves a blue vial from his pocket. He tosses it at her, despite the surprised look on Heath's face. Feeling the glass on her palm, she asks, "What is this?"
"It's an elixir. It's expensive, but evidently, your friend needs it more than I do. Consider this an act of mercy."
Samuel wheels his chair around. Heath takes this as a silent indicator of his desire to leave. They begin to make their way to the door.
The girl exclaims, "Wait! Who are you? Why are you helping me? For all you know, I could be your enemy!"
Samuel replies, "Perhaps. I'm bound by a code of morality set upon me by my experiences. My fiancé's had a hand in it, too. But, I don't take pride in killing defenseless children. Such a thing may taint me, and would keep me up at night. No, I desire to sleep well. Sleep is important for one's health."
Samuel chuckles as he observes his watch. He sees that it's a little past noon. But he also sees the portrait he'd put in of his little girl. Such a person held much potential in life, and in the case of this green-haired wannabe soldier, she still held the means of correcting her path. Samuel never bought into this argument of fate. Man should be responsible for their own futures, not some arbitrary force overlooking them.
The door shuts close behind him. He never told her his name, as she hadn't hers. It's better that way, he surmises. Best to not know one's enemy, as you don't have to associate a name with a gravestone.
Later...
Parry, step back, ready, and strike!
Staring at his enemy, Eliwood recalls the advice given to him by Marcus during combat training. He takes his blade and performs a defensive technique just as the swordsman in front of him engages. He tightens his grip, and with one swift motion, parries his opponent's attack. This stuns him for a moment, allowing Eliwood to reset his position and step back. He's then able to lock his eyes on one of his vital organs, in this case his heart. He expertly points his rapier directly at it, readies himself, and then strikes.
"Hyaaaaah!"
His weapon hits home, causing the swordsman to stop dead in his tracks. He stares at him for a moment, before taking his shaking hand and placing it over his chest. After catching a glimpse of his bloodied hand, his eyes roll back. Eliwood retracts his rapier and watches in silence as his opponent crumples onto the ground. Critical hit. A quick and relatively painless death.
Eliwood takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and uses a handkerchief to wipe off liquid from his weapon. He shakes his head, because even though he'd killed many men before, he still hasn't grown numb to it. His heart continues to sag with the same sense of loss it always has. Midway through his cleaning procedure, however, he hears the approaching sounds of hooves hitting the grass. He raises his head and sees a familiar face before him.
He says, "Ah, Isadora. It pleases me to see you're back unharmed."
The knight's purple hair remains hidden by her helmet, as otherwise it would've been moving with the wind. Eliwood detects a light smile through the opening in her armor. She says, "As I am for you. I've dealt with the threats as ordered. I will stay by your side for the remainder of the day."
Eliwood nods his head with approval and sheaths his sword. "Very well. We should continue with the others. Time is of the essence, and we shouldn't waste it."
Isadora takes in her liege's words, which pushes her to chuckle. Her cheeks turn a light red, deriving some notice. Eliwood asks, "Huh? Did I humor you?"
Isadora replies, "Forgive me for my rudeness, but your mannerisms remind me of your parents. The way you look at me reminds me of your mother, while your hasty demeanor calls back to your father. You are absolutely, undoubtedly their child."
"Oh...well...I suppose that's a good thing, right?"
She agrees, "Indeed. Your father was a fair marquess, and your mother a respectable wife. Both were and are kind, intelligent individuals. You will make a good ruler, Eliwood. Never doubt yourself, for your parents have raised you well."
Eliwood pauses and thinks back on his childhood. He remembers the kindness of his parents, the love he never found lacking in them. He recalls the very personal relationship he shared with them both, a rare occurrence given the precedence of royalty dissociating themselves from their children. But neither Elbert nor Eleanora had done so. They raised him with all the warmth he needed, producing a man with an incredible sense of justice, empathy, and morality. He smiles, not just in blissful reminiscence, but in gratitude.
He says, "I can't imagine having had anyone else raise me. Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I ended up with somebody else. Would I have turned out like Erik? Or perhaps, more brash, but good natured like Hector?" He chuckles to himself and looks out towards the fog. "Oh well, I can ponder these questions with you later. We should return to the others, Lady Eleanora."
Eleanora agrees and shifts her horse towards the north. The direction of the battle. "Very well. Your request is my command..."
Nearby...
"So...are you going to tell me why you acted the way you did?"
Samuel raises his head from his resting position, having parked himself beside a tree to recoup some energy. All around him, he can see the forms of his friends faintly appear in the fog. Nearby, Heath sits with him, eager to receive some answers from what occurred earlier that day.
Samuel sighs as he lifts his hood, eager to ease some built up heat in his head. Wiping some sweat from his brow, he says, "If you'd known me for longer, you probably would have known. But, we're only acquaintances. I suppose I will allow you to pick my brain a bit, sir knight."
"Pick your—" Heath shakes his head. He'd heard from the others of the tactician's quick linguistics. "Ah, never mind. I think I understand what you meant."
Samuel nods as he takes a swig from his canteen. "As for your question, I am no monster. There aren't many opportunities where I see myself harming an unarmed girl." He looks away towards his hands. "I suppose you could say I was soft. If they were indeed the enemy, or someone we could derive value from in the form of a hostage, acting then might've come to our benefit. But, I cannot allow myself to do that. Maybe if I were desperate and reeling from some devastating situation, like if Lyn or Lani we're abducted, but the necessary conditions weren't there. I do not regret what I've done."
Heath asks, "Even if you ended up helping your worst enemy?"
Samuel hesitates for a moment, his breaths appearing fuller and whiter under the cold air. He thinks hard on his companion's words before giving him an answer.
He says, "It...depends. I suppose hindsight is important here. If the girl ended up becoming a monster, but the other an ordinary person, then the net gain would be negative, and I would consider my actions a mistake. But, inversely, if both become good people, or if one or both of their goodness outweighs their negative actions upon the world, then it would be a victory for me." Samuel chuckles to himself. "I sure hope my actions rubbed off them the right way. Mercy can do a lot for a person. Perhaps our actions will do enough to change their lives for the better."
Heath raises his brow, intrigued by Samuel's wording. "You changed from me to our. I was just following your lead, friend."
Samuel replies, "Oh, you not doing or saying anything made you complicit in this affair, sir knight. If they turn out to become Nergal 2.0, we're sharing the blame. I'm not dying from the noose alone."
"Well, dying together is better than that. I know that for sure."
Samuel looks out towards the fog and hears the fainting sounds of combat. "Dying alone is something I wouldn't wish to anybody. Regardless, we've talked for too long. If they get any further from us, I fear we'll be more privy to making a mistake."
He rolls away under his own power. Heath can't help but laugh as he sees him get stuck as his right wheel hits a small rock.
"Can you help me? I can't seem...to move."
Later...
"...Stop right there."
Erk stops dead in his tracks and turns around at the front gate of an ordinary village. He sees a man wearing a black robe with a fang etched on it, an indicator of his membership within the Black Fang. His face is concealed, though Erk can see a tuft of golden hair poking out. Wary of a fight, Erk reaches for his tome.
The man says, "No need for alarm. I wear the garb of the Fang, but I'm a loyal citizen of Lycia. Be at ease, for I am not your enemy."
Erk relaxes, but only a little. He's still incredibly suspicious of this stranger, though his accent verifies to him of his Lycian heritage. It sounds posh and formal, much like Eliwood's.
"What do you want?" He asks. "I'm a little busy at the moment. There's a battle going on and I'd like to warn this village."
The man replies, "Settle down, I'd like to tell you some information. There is a woman that has the Black Fang around by the noose. When you at last confront her, use this staff. This woman is the ringleader you seek. Her name is Sonia. Do not forget that name. Sonia."
The man rushes a staff into Erk's possession and then scurries away. Looking at it, Erk realizes he'd handed him a silence staff. It's an expensive, albeit niche item to possess. Unlike healing staves or tomes, it doesn't heal or deal damage. It binds the vocal cords of a victim, prohibiting speech, and more importantly, the capability of one to perform spells.
This Sonia person must be a mage. He surmises. I'll keep this information on hand, and will share it when I see the lords or Samuel again.
Then he enters the village. This will be only a short blip in his mission. They still have to win the battle. Nothing else matters if they don't.
Later...
Lloyd frowns as he sees the figures surrounding him. His bones ache as he lifts his sword, tired from his engagement with the enemy. He clears his throat. "My my, of all the people I expected to be here, you were not one of them, Carvel."
There are seven foes in front of him. One of them is a beautiful woman with green hair, of whom Lloyd surmises from rumors to be Lyn, the Lorcan crown princess of Caelin. At her flanks are Lord Eliwood and Hector, identifiable from their looks, despite their disguises. A mage (Erk), a troubadour (Priscilla), a wyvern knight (Heath), and Carvel (Samuel) are also present. All look at each other when they hear the unfamiliar name, besides Heath and Samuel.
The man in question steps forward, or rather, trudges along slowly with his wheels closer to the lone swordsman. He says, "I regret to inform you that Carvel is an assumed name. I've carried many such monikers, but my true one is Samuel."
Hector asks, "What? You've spoken with this man before?"
Samuel nods, "Indeed, I have. I found him while waiting in a tavern in lieu of informing their magistrate to close their doors. We had...a bit of a conversation. His name is Lloyd."
Eliwood grips the handle of his sword tightly, feeling its weight away in his hand. "Lloyd...what a peculiar name. So...common. Regardless, you seem like an honorable man. Why must we fight?"
Lloyd smiles, his teeth revealed to be red from a shot he'd taken from Hector earlier. "I...ask myself that sometimes. But, as a Black Fang...I must act to rid this world of the wicked. If those ranks include you...then I must end you."
Lloyd steps forward, but stops dead in his tracks when he feels something give in his ankle. He groans when realizes he has sprained it. "Urgh..."
Concerned, Eliwood says, "Are you well? You seem to be in pain."
Lloyd takes his sword and plants the sharp end against the ground to form a makeshift cane. "...I'm beaten. You are all...so strong. Not only were we out-muscled...but that tactician of yours is competent. Your force is...stronger than I'd realized."
Eliwood pauses, unsure of how to react. Meanwhile, Lyn sends a distasteful look towards Samuel's direction when she sees the redness on his face. He was blushing, emboldened by the kind words of his enemy.
Lloyd continues, "You're foolish as well. To waste sentiment on me, your enemy."
The swordsman disappears in a flash, much like Lyn does when she hits a critical strike. Eliwood screams, and everyone's hearts drop when they fear the worst. All prepare their weapons.
He reappears behind Eliwood, his sword threateningly above the lord's throat. His eyes burn with a fire that makes everyone assume he won't hesitate to end his life, though none are in the position to stop him. He smiles triumphantly, "This is what happens!"
The group immediately surrounds the two, wary to not aggravate Lloyd to take his life. Sensing the unease in the situation, he says, "Calm yourselves. I have no plans on fleeing with a hostage. After I deal with you, I'll let the rest of you go."
Time slows down, and Samuel feels his breath drop in temperature. A sudden chill travels down his spine, like his arteries have been burdened with a ton of force. He scans the area, and then Lloyd holding onto the wriggling lord. He searches for any path towards saving his friend's life.
I can't use a spell, as the incantation is too slow. I can't stand up and charge at him with my blinking ability, as my legs hardly work. Samuel feels his stomach churn. I...can't do anything! He closes his eyes, wrought with self-pity. Why...am I so useless?!
Fortunately for him and the rest of the army, Eliwood doesn't need saving. In fact, he would do so himself. He says solemnly, "...Uhai said the same thing."
Lloyd pauses when he hears his name. He stands there, the inner workings of his mind contemplating what he should do. The opening nearly drives Samuel to order an attack, but that proves unnecessary. Lloyd lowers his blade, enough to suggest curiosity, but not outright pacification. He says, "What?"
Eliwood recalls the final moments of the honorable nomad warrior on the Isle of Valor. "We battled your comrade on the Dread Isle. He told us he'd do nothing so cowardly as to take a hostage. He fought with honor. I've realized long ago that the Black Fang are not evil by nature. So why is it we fight?"
Lloyd looks at his hostage with an eye of doubt. "Uhai...you spoke to him?"
"Indeed. He was a valiant fighter. But, in the end, he told us the way to the Dragon's Gate with his dying breath."
Upon hearing those words, Lloyd opts to release the noble from his clutches. He staggers back, surprised to be back onto his own footing. Kent and Marcus grab him to ensure he doesn't fall. Lloyd has spared him.
He says, "Go. Don't worry, for I, too, have my honor. I will not attack you again."
Eliwood stares at his former aggressor curiously. A thought appears in his head, a question he'd asked many times before to great success. "Will you join our cause?"
Lloyd quickly disagrees. Despite Eliwood's good ethos and lack of villainy, he isn't so privy as to abandon his organization. In many respects, it feels like his home. "No...but something is amiss." He closes his eyes, and the image of a vile, deathly woman appears in his mind. Her raven hair ropes around the synapses of his brain like an octopus grabbing onto prey. "...You have my reprieve until I find my answers."
"...Why...are you in the Fang?"
"I'll tell you next time we meet." Lloyd smiles faintly, the first time he'd shown his enemy the gesture. He lifts two fingers to his head and gives a mini-salute. "Be seeing you. Watch out for the woman named Sonia."
The mention of Sonia's name compels Erk...to irk. He blinks once, as if in disbelief for what he just heard. Sonia...did he just say that name?
This thought vanishes when Lloyd disappears into a literal cloud of smoke. The group coughs as a gust of wind blows solute in their direction, further obscuring their vision. When it passes, the swordsman is gone. Gone into the everlasting, endless forest surrounding them outside the fortress.
Hector sighs and wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead. "That was close..."
Eliwood nods, "Forgive me. I wanted to speak to him at least once."
Lyn says, "Don't sweat it. At least we learned something about our opponent."
Eliwood sheaths his sword. He thinks back on the actions of the White Wolf, and wonders if such a thing was an isolated incident, or representative of something more systemic within his organization. "...The Black Fang seems to have some honor after all. Perhaps they are really just being used by Nergal. We should talk to their head, Brendan Reed."
Lyn agrees, "Perhaps we can resolve this without any more fighting."
Hector's face turns into a scowl. He snaps back, "I don't like it. Sounds like a terrible plan."
Lyn raises her brow, confused by Hector's forcefulness. "Hector?"
He turns his back towards them both. "Let's get back to camp. We might have word from Pent and the others."
"...I wonder what that was about..." Lyn shakes her head and looks back towards Samuel. Everyone begins to follow Hector's lead, with the exception of him. The expression on his face is one of careful thought...and a bit of discomfort.
She asks, "Samuel? Is something wrong?"
Samuel breaks out of his subconscious bubble, lifting his hand away from his forehead. "I suppose so. I feel...a little under the weather."
Lyn reaches over and places her hand over his forehead. Her heart skips a beat when she feels extra warmth on his skin. "Samuel...you're burning up! What's with you?"
Samuel expresses a look of confusion, but this vanishes as a wave of pain strikes his forehead. It's like a cushion of needles has just been placed on it, burdening him with its effects. Even so, he does not wish to worry his love. He opts to downplay it. "It's...probably just my migraine headache again. I've had it since this morning...I should be okay if I walk it off."
Samuel coughs once, an uncharacteristic symptom of a migraine. Regardless, Lyn doesn't understand this. She walks over behind him and grabs onto his chair's handlebars, eager to aid him on his way back.
"I...I hope you're right. I know you are an intelligent person, so I trust you know your own body. Even so, take it easy. Allow me to push you back with the others."
Samuel replies meekly, "I...I thank you. I will accept this graciously."
Lloyd frowns as he thinks alone in a desolate forest. He's come to a grand revelation...that everything is not as it seems. He recalls the meeting he, Linus, Jaffar, and Ursula had with Sonia, the woman who ordered him to come here in the first place. Her words echo in his mind, feeling more sinister with each iteration.
Your father has ordered Lord Eliwood's death. He is an evil person who feasts on the despair of the common man. He is utterly opposed to our goals. Bring him down, on the Black Fangs orders!
"...As I suspected. How...do I unmask that woman for who she really is? How do I warn brother and fa—ack!"
Lloyd feels a metallic object puncture his back and looks down as it emerges from his chest. It's a dagger, and it comes at complete shock to him. He hadn't heard a single step, nor a sound to suggest another's presence. This comes despite his keen senses wrought by years of training.
The White Wolf falls onto the ground, writhing from his mortal wound. The last person he sees is his assailant, a woman with curly, black hair, and lips that matched the shade of blood. He would never learn her name, Limstella, nor who has sent her. His last thoughts are of his brother, stepsister, and father, who he cared for very much.
Later, Linus would find his body, or what was left of it in the woods. From then on, he would promise to himself that he would avenge his kin's death. No matter the cost.
Nearby...
"...Urgh..."
Jaffar opens his eyes and finds himself laying on the floor of a solitary home. The first thing he sees is the impromptu nurse tending to his wounds, her hands drenched with crimson. Jaffar recognizes her as a girl he'd seen many times before, but does not know her name.
She says, "You! You're awake! Thank goodness..."
Jaffar tries to lean up under his own power, but his bones ache with each ounce of force he applies to the ground. He lets out a painful groan before the girl beckons him to lie back down.
She says, "No...you mustn't strain yourself. The blood...so much blood. The elixir's done much to aid in its stoppage...but it's still everywhere."
Through Jaffar's dulled vision, he sees a puddle of red underneath his person. It causes his veins to stiffen, if only a little. "You...I know you..."
Nino smiles through the few panicked tears on her face. The gesture...feels strangely warm to the cold assassin's heart. "Uh-huh. We've met many times, but I don't think I've told you my name. I'm Nino! Sonia's daughter."
The mention of Sonia conjures some memories from within Jaffar's mind, but he pushes these away as another matter takes priority. He glares directly at Nino, uncaring for the aid she has given. "What...are you doing? Are you a fool?"
"...Huh?"
"Have you forgotten the law of the Fang?" He scolds. "Sacrifice the wounded to salvage the strong."
Nino has heard this law repeated to her many times. By her brothers, her comrades, and even her neglectful mother. Yet, the thought of killing one's own has never once graced her mind. She was too preoccupied with trying to save him to do so. "I...that's not..."
Jaffar says, "I was unconscious and alone out of our safe halls. You should have obeyed the law. Killed me, and then fled. Yet, you didn't. Why?"
Goosebumps appear on Nino's skin. Struggling to form a sentence, much less explain herself, she says, "B-But...I couldn't just let a comrade die..."
Jaffar shouts into her face. "Don't be a fool!"
The forcefulness behind his voice takes Nino by surprise, and given how much a struggle the day had been for her feeble mind, it all becomes too much. Her earlier tears balloon into a borderline bawl. Jaffar only shakes his head, but winces when another stream of blood gushes from his wound. A wreck of a person with respect to her emotions, Nino further descends into panic when Jaffar passes out again.
Nino says, "No! Please, don't move! You're bleeding again! Oh, what do I do? The elixir vial is all empty! It won't stop..." She closes her eyes and in an act of desperation, whispers a silent prayer. "Please don't die. You...mustn't die."
Later...
"Ugh..."
Inside a tent huddled near the center of camp, Samuel struggles to maintain his attention as Lord Pent and Lady Louise recount their meeting with Lady Hellene, the Queen of Bern. Their voices sound muffled and their forms appear blurry under his eyesight...
Pent says, "I can't say the meeting was a complete failure...yet I have to say we have a task on our hands."
Lord Eliwood replies, "Well...I suppose retrieving the divine weapons wasn't going to be easy. What do we need to do?"
Durandal, Armads, Forblaze, Aureola, Mulagir, Maltet, Apocalypse, and Eckesachs. The divine weapons are objects of extreme power once wielded by the Eight Legends. Their strength brought upon massive destruction onto the world, and as such are held in tight security. They were needed because at this point, they were the only things that would certainly bring about Nergal's downfall. As Athos once told them: "You can only defeat Nergal with the divine weapons. You needn't all of them, but most should be procured."
Louise speaks with a solemn tone, "Although I can't say much, the Queen is having...troubles with her husband. The love in their relationship had been long lost, and the King had taken to living with a mistress in his palace while she and her son, Prince Zephiel, are holed up in a manse some distance away."
Eliwood says, "That's bound to create some animosity between both sides. I've heard long ago that the King has a daughter named Guinevere. Isn't she illegitimate?"
Louise nods, "Indeed. She was the product of Desmond's and his mistress', not Hellene's, love. Now, for reasons unknown, though from Hellene's words, she suggested it might be out of jealousy, Desmond favors Guinevere heavily over Zephiel. There are rumors that he wants to make her next in line instead of her brother, despite Zephiel being older and male. However, despite his influence, the landed nobles of the realm declared that Zephiel would be made heir at the coming-of-age ceremony ten days from now."
Hector thinks about the band of nobles that lurk behind the scenes. Although the King of Bern wields much power, it's them that hold the final say when it comes to succession. It's tradition for the first-born male to inherit. That's how it's always been, and seemingly how it will always be. "So what's the problem here? Zephiel is the heir, and there's nothing the King can do about it. I doubt we can magically have the King care for his wife and child."
Pent replies, "Indeed. However, there's been an issue. The Fire Emblem, the valuable red jewel that is Bern's greatest treasure, has been stolen from the palace. Since it holds a very important role in the coming-of-age ceremony, the ceremony cannot occur without it. If the jewel is never found, or if too much time passes, the King might muster the political capital needed to instill his daughter as heir instead. For Hellene, she cannot allow this to happen to her son."
Lyn mutters, "She's entrusted us with fetching the jewel for her...hasn't she?"
Pent nods, "Yes, but she hasn't a clue where the Fire Emblem is. However, if we can find it for her, and return it, she will tell us the path to the Shrine of Seals, bringing us one step closer to obtaining the divine weapons."
Hector sighs and scratches the back of his head. He ponders about the whereabouts of the Fire Emblem. "...We have no clues, but I think we can start by looking at the scene of the crime. We should go to the palace and investigate. We have no other leads, so that's the place to start."
Eliwood pauses, in consideration of Hector's proposal. He thinks about the danger, and potential political ramifications should they be caught. However, he understands the situation to be too dire for inaction. The fate of the world rests on their hands. "...I think that's a good idea, friend. Let's prepare to head out immediately."
Lyn says, "I agree. We should all—" She hesitates when she notices something odd about her tactician. He's grown noticeably weaker than when they left the battlefield, and his breathing is sparse and erratic. Her eyes widen when she notices Samuel's eyes flicker. His body then lurches forward, propelling him onto the ground. "Samuel?! Friends, I think he needs help!"
Eliwood, Lyn, and Louise all rush to his side while the others send for help. Retaking Samuel's temperature, Lyn's eyes widen with shock as she notices his fever has risen substantially. His skin is clammier, and had taken on a deathly, gray tone. Every indication shows that Samuel's dancing with death, or about to be. Despite the clear danger he's in, Samuel does his best to downplay the situation. "...Guys...I'm okay...just a little headache..."
Lyn exclaims, "A little headache! Samuel, you're sick! We need to treat you as soon as possible!"
"Sick? I...can't be sick. I'm a morph...we don't get—" He stops mid-sentence when he catches a quick glimpse of his arm. There's a small, red bulge of skin on it. It reminds him of a picture he saw on an old yearbook in high school. It had a small child, somewhere in the far east, who had many such bulges on her skin. It was the last known case of a certain disease on planet Earth before being eradicated long before Samuel's time.
What...was the name of that disease again? Sm...Smallpox!
Smallpox, a disease that in some cases, carried a death rate of almost one hundred percent. Not only has Samuel contracted it, but the symptoms have worsened to the point where it is taking a massive toll on Samuel's body. Any moment now, he would lose consciousness, and be thrust into an invisible battle with the virus that has brought down empires. The chances for his survival are slim, since his body has never battled it before.
"L...Lyn. I'm...so sorry."
"No...it's okay. Just rest. Conserve your strength. You're going to need it."
The blurriness of his vision turns into outright blackness, and before long, Samuel passes out. The last thing he sees are the beating green eyes of his spouse, and the last thing he feels is the warmth of her hand on his. The brief thought of worry streaks across his mind, as the virus is very contagious. But, he can't ponder on it for long. The cold, unforgiving void takes him...putting him into a coma.
His only regret is that he didn't say "I love you" one last time.
A/N: Hey guys. Just...gonna keep this short. There won't be an upload next week, or perhaps even the one following. Recently, my uncle died of COVID-19. Between having to cope with that, and finals, I don't see myself writing much. I know I promised earlier that I won't be taking anymore breaks so...I'm sorry. He was just fine recovering a few days ago...and now he's gone.
