The Second Battle of Persis
Nothing could change the outcome. The wyvern's talons stretched towards the cluster of rebels, and the claws would tear them apart long before Lucina reached the front.
But she'd be damned if she didn't try. Falchion rattled with anticipation as she ran.
"Stop this madness at once!"
Maybe her sudden arrival on the battlefield had startled the wyvern rider, or maybe her commanding tone clicked with his instincts to obey. Whichever the reason, the man pulled his mount sideways, and the wyvern missed its prey. With a disappointed shriek, the creature circled around for a second attempt. Before then, Lucina had to resolve the conflict.
She opened her mouth to demand a talk with the commanding officer when the distinct buzzing of a bowstring reached her ears amidst the chaos. The projectile closed the distance faster than her eyes could see, faster than her mind could comprehend the danger, and only one marksman could manage such a shot.
The arrow grazed Lucina's cheek and put a hold to her charge. Two inches to the right, and the Altean bloodline would have died with her on the burnt steps of Seliora.
"Don't waste your last breaths with orders, my dear lady," Klein said and emerged out of the mess of fighters. For the moment, Lucina's presence captivated soldiers and rebels alike. But the slaughter would no doubt continue once Klein rid himself of her influence.
A mocking grin spread on his lips as he reached for another arrow. "I'm afraid you have been removed from the chain of command."
Faint pain pulsated in Lucina's cheek, and she tasted blood in the corner of her mouth. She needed to stall him, gain time to think. "Take a moment to consider, Klein. You don't want to make a mistake you will come to regret later on."
"I've had plenty of time to think. And I've decided that you're more trouble than you're worth."
"I don't plan to resist. All I want is for you to take me to Roy."
Klein laughed. "It's too late to make amends, my dear lady. You should have taken a moment to consider before you conspired with the Altean rebel scum. The only thing I regret is that I didn't take the shot back in Gran."
"Roy will hear about this. Do you think he will be pleased to learn that you killed one of his most promising knights out of spite?"
"I don't care what his thankless highness hears or doesn't hear. All I want is to rid this world of every Altean fanatic. And that includes you, princess."
So Klein knew about her relation to the Altean throne. Lucina bit her lips. He wouldn't back down, not if she represented the head of the very enemy he wanted to destroy. Words no longer touched him, he had abandoned his fear of Roy and any sense of loyalty. In his dark violet eyes swirled relentless hatred.
Lucina raised Falchion, but she knew her efforts wouldn't make a difference. This time Klein aimed to kill. And once she dropped to the ground, Frederick, Cordelia, Gregor, and every rebel would face the edge of a blade today.
Frederick pushed through the crowd towards Klein, rebels dashed up the stairs as though they hoped to shield Lucina, but all of them were too slow. The arrow shot from Klein's hand, and Lucina braced herself for the impact.
In that moment, a lightning strike exploded behind her, a brightness that encapsulated everything between the ground and the sky, and the stone under Lucina's feet quaked. A roar assaulted her eardrums, and the milky white dragon from the dome in Seliora vaulted Lucina and landed on the steps in front of her.
Tiki.
The dragon swept Klein's arrow aside with one of its paws, and the assembly of fighters on the steps below cowered under its might roars. Shock and fear held them captive, even Klein stared at the accumulation of wings, scales, and deadly fangs in terror. Although Lucina had by no means planned for Tiki to interfere in the most spectacular way possible, the effect she had on the Pheraen forces was more than welcome.
With slow, controlled strides, Lucina stepped out of Tiki's shadow. All eyes rested on her, and the silent awe of her audience resonated in the ravines around Seliora. Only the rumbling breath of the dragon dared to disturb the quiet. While paralysis held everyone else in a firm grasp, Lucina raised Falchion, so that the sun reflected in the immaculate ridge. Half the rebels looked like they wanted to bend their knees to her on the spot, and the confidence that had dominated the faces of the Pheraens wavered. In need for guidance, they turned to Klein, who was working his jaw.
"So she has a pet dragon – that won't save her now," he spat out. "We bested the Altean rats before. On these steps they dropped to their knees, and their ash still clings to these stones. The threat we will eliminate here in Persis will be felt as a return of peace in the entire Empire!"
"Klein, step down while you still can," Lucina shouted. "Take me to Roy, and we can avoid bloodshed."
"I won't let your words twist my thoughts for longer."
Klein readied another arrow. But instead of Lucina, he targeted a rebel in the crowd, a middle-aged man with a beard Lucina didn't know the name of. His stunned gaze had never left Lucina since she had raised Falchion, a pure admiration swimming in the green so reminiscent of Altea's fields.
He was dead before his body hit the ground.
"Kill them all!"
The moment Klein's words passed his lips, a rattling of swords and spears and shields answered him. The battle broke out anew, twenty odd rebels against almost fifty Pheraen soldiers. Even the lowest ranked in their forces had enjoyed training for warfare that knew no equal. Everything to serve the glory of the Pheraen Empire.
A week ago, Lucina had stood in line with them. Now she had no choice but to fight them. Why could they not see that she only wanted them to take her to Roy, so that all the blood running down Seliora's steps would be avoided? Why did they refuse to yield to her?
The shriek of the wyvern overhead forced Lucina back into the grisly reality of the moment. While the rebels struggled to hold their ground against the overwhelming force of the enemy, the creature dove into the mass of arms and weapons. The wyvern pivoted back into the sky with its talons clutched around a rebel.
The woman screamed. Several dozen yards above the battlefield, the wyvern tossed its victim upward. First the wyvern rider sliced her chest with his halberd. Then his mount crunched her spine between its jaws.
With a cry of triumph, the wyvern folded its wings for another attack.
"Stay back," Lucina ordered Tiki, and after the dragon lowered its head, she charged.
The wyvern rushed towards its target, Gregor and Cordelia, who were fighting back-to-back. Their coordinated moves suggested they had battled with the other one in mind their entire life. But their opponents left them no time to search for cover from the wyvern.
The creature's maw dripped with the blood of its last victim, its tail almost scraped the stone below.
Lucina was so close that she could see the spark of intelligence in the golden reptile eyes, and the wyvern's weight pushed a squall of displaced air in her face, reeking with death. But she strangled the urge to flee. Twenty steps, ten, five, and then she jumped.
The elevation advantage of the stairs gave her the edge she needed. Falchion severed the scaly head clean off its body. The dead wyvern crash-landed into the steps, scattering rebels and soldiers alike.
Lucina hit the stone a little further down, and the impact drove the air out of her lungs. Her shoulder ached. A set of armor had never seemed so desirable, but her blue plates rusted away in the saddlebacks of her horse in Terra – unless the stableboys at the garrison had disposed of her belongings as soon as word about her betrayal had spread.
A traitor.
Now that she had raised her weapons against members of the Pheraen military, she couldn't defend herself against the accusations anymore. The bridge back had collapsed.
Under shaky breaths, Lucina returned to her feet, in time to prevent the wyvern rider's halberd from piercing her stomach. Her fencing instincts returned to her through the dust clouds the wyvern had churned. With a quick chain of feigns and slashes, Lucina overpowered the halberd and then the man.
He would survive but as a prisoner.
Victory was far from certain. Utter chaos raged around Lucina, bodies rolled down the steps, metal flashed between the dust screens, and the rattling of swords reigned supreme.
She had no chance to form up her fighters and apply a better strategy. Her little rebellion would lose one man after the other, one rusty sword in the dirt after the other, and before the sun neared the horizon, none of the rebels would remain to count the dead.
Lucina tightened her grip around Falchion. Her face stared back at her from the polished blade, a face battered and bruised but filled with determination.
Marth had incurred Roy's hatred for her. He had died for her. So that she would protect the people of Altea in his place.
She wasn't going to disappoint him.
This time, Lucina heard the arrow in time to roll for cover. She ignored the pang in her shoulder and used her momentum to leap to her knees and face Klein. Dust stained his blond hair, but none of the rebels had managed to so much as scrape him. With a grin of sick satisfaction, he tossed aside his bow and reached for the two short swords at his belt.
When he killed her, the moment would be intimate, Lucina would be close enough to smell the spearmint in his breath, a freshness to laugh in the face of the killing all around them.
The ragged edge of Klein's blade glistered. He pounced.
Lucina had enjoyed the best training a knight in Pherae could wish for. Roy had called for master duelists from far and wide to teach her, and she had sent men twice her weight and age into the dust of Lycia's training ground.
But now she tasted what had earned the Twelve their reputation.
Klein was relentless. His expertise far surpassed that of a good marksman. His short swords sliced at Lucina from left and right, from impossible angles and with a speed that defied logic. The longer range of Falchion should have given her a crucial advantage, but Klein denied her the opening to attack.
His thrusts and stabs came back to back to back, slicing through her tunic, biting her flesh. And she retreated, retreated, and retreated, always a mere inch away from a lethal wound while Klein pranced up and down the steps, a display of marvelous footwork that hadn't aged a day during his banishment on the Black Wall.
He toyed with her like a cougar that had cornered its prey and let it jump in helpless circles to whet its appetite.
If everyone around Lucina had dropped dead and the skirmish had ceased, she would not have noticed. Her entire world consisted of the next attack and her desperate attempts to evade or parry. Otherwise, this small world of hers would collapse.
And she with it.
Her breaths rattled in her throat, and Falchion weighed heavy in her hands. When Klein's blade connected with hers, her body trembled under the impact, her muscles screamed, and to ease the pressure, she took another step backwards.
A mistake.
Her foot slipped on the uneven step, and Lucina's back exploded with hellfire pain when she hit the stone. For a moment, the overload of agony blacked out her senses. Only for the pain to enter new spheres when Klein pressed his knee into her ribs.
The air stole away, and Lucina clawed at Klein's leg to no avail. Dimness held her eyes captive until Klein yanked her head forward. Their noses almost touched, and they were close enough to see the specks in the other's eyes, close enough to kiss.
Klein brought one of the blades to her neck.
"This will be the end of your rebellion," he said, and his breath irritated the cut on her cheek. "Roy might still believe that he can mold you back into his dutiful knight. But you and I know better." He increased the pressure, and Lucina gasped for air. "You enjoy your adventures with the rebel scum. You enjoy ordering them around to do your bidding. Nothing turns you on more than a submissive bow. Where did you think this was going to go? You on the throne of Altea while the witless kneel and praise you as their savior – that's what you always wanted, isn't it, princess?"
Klein pressed the sword against Lucina's neck, and the cold steel burned on her skin. "Between you and me, I was delighted when Roy sent me out to find you. I hoped you would come by Persis, and when I heard the roars of the dragon from the ruins, I knew we'd meet again. Your rebel friends delayed me a little. But I'm glad you brought them. Once I'm done with you, I'll make sure to free the Empire of their dirty influence once and for all."
Lucina's ribs creaked, she rasped. Oxygen ran short. Klein wouldn't allow her to faint, not when he could draw out the moment of his victory for a little longer. His other knee pinned down her sword arm; Lucina could hardly feel her fingers.
She clawed at the stone with her left hand, groped for anything she could use as a weapon. Nothing except dust and pebbles.
Klein's sword cut into the sensitive flesh near her throat. His entire focus rested on the trickle of blood and Lucina's strained face.
She closed her fist when he increased the pressure.
With the remains of her strength, Lucina hurled the dust at Klein. He grunted and pulled back, frantically blinking to clear his sight.
The pressure on her chest vanished, and Lucina swallowed a lungful of air before kicking Klein from her chest. She adjusted her grip around Falchion's hilt, raised the sword for the kill.
But she hesitated.
She had defeated her opponent in a one-on-one duel, and no matter how close the call, Klein, by the honor of his knighthood, had to realize this too. His life lay in her hand, and she had the power to spare it.
Instead of the chest, Lucina aimed her stroke at Klein's leg. He let out a blood-curling scream as he fell. With the help of a healer, he would survive the wound, with only a scar on his ego to remain.
"Stay down," Lucina said and kicked Klein's swords down the stairs. "I don't want to kill you. Tell your men to surrender, and I can guarantee all of you will walk out of this alive."
Klein clutched his leg. The white silk where Lucina had struck him soaked with a growing patch of crimson. "I won't surrender to the likes of you! And I'll wring anybody's neck who does."
"You won't kill anyone else today. You're defeated. Stay down."
Klein's defiant glare wavered, and he pressed against the flood of blood in agony. Unarmed and unable to stand, he would have to admit defeat sooner rather than later. In the meantime, Lucina had a fight to win with what little forces she had left.
She turned.
Around her, individual battles raged between rebels and soldiers, battles in blood, sweat, and desperation. A few familiar faces jumped at her from amidst the chaos. Rebels of which she couldn't remember the name. Pheraens with which she had fought in Gran.
Many still standing.
Too many dead already.
Frederick sliced through one of the soldiers to reach her, and the relief over seeing him alive gave way to fear when he called her name in utter terror.
In the corner of her eye, Klein picked himself up. His hand wandered from his wound to the dagger on his belt. He raised his hand for the throw.
At this distance, with his skills as a marksman, he couldn't miss.
Lucina braced herself, and with the help of divine protection or luck, she parried the oncoming dagger with Falchion. The superior steel cut Klein's weapon in half, and the two blade pieces clattered on the stone steps.
Klein's hatred leaked from his hardened expression. Despite the pain his wound had to inflict on him with every movement, he bit into his lower lip and pulled a knife out of his boot.
But this time, he paid for his relentlessness.
Frederick buried his longsword in Klein's shoulder. The blow severed Klein's ribcage and almost cut him in half. The knife dropped from his limp fingers.
And with him, the resistance of Persis' soldiers crumbled.
Thirteen rebels lay dead on the steps before Seliora.
Almost twice as many Pheraen soldiers had met their end. The rest kneeled in front of Lucina with their hands tied behind their backs.
"I'm glad you chose to surrender," Lucina said as she walked along the line of prisoners. "I mean you no harm. And the last thing I want is to start a war with the Pheraen Empire. I hope to give the Altean province back to its people without further bloodshed. You and your brethren can help me with that. When you return to Lycia, let it be known that I don't fight to kill, and neither will I threaten the citizens of Pherae. The two nations, Altea and Pherae, shall coexist in peace, as they have before the war. You and your brethren can help me with that – in laying down your arms, you have taken the first step. For this, I thank you."
With these words, Lucina gave a bow of the head to the defeated soldiers and turned towards Tiki. The Manakete still assumed her dragon form and examined the happenings with her head tilted to the side. Her large shadow alone served to immobilize the prisoners.
"Tiki, can you do me a favor and watch over them for a little?" Lucina asked. "I have a feeling they will appreciate a moment to reflect before we send them to Lycia."
For an answer, the dragon growled, crossed its fore paws, and stared into the soldiers' deepest thoughts with ruby eyes. A few of them wriggled under the scrutiny, but none of them had the guts to make a run for it anytime soon.
Satisfied, Lucina walked down the stairs to where Frederick waited for her. Apart from a little dust on his armor, he had managed the battle unscathed.
Lucina tapped his chest plate with one of her knuckles. "How is the wound?"
Frederick fell into his old habit of walking half a step behind her; always the watchful older brother. "I have no complaints. After the rebel healer applied her magic, I could fight in this battle with the best of my abilities."
"You saved me again, you know?"
"From Klein?" Frederick's mouth hardened. "My only regret is that I could not do so before he laid his hands on you. I apologize for not coming to your aid sooner."
"Don't be like that." Lucina sent him a smile. "I'm fine. A bruised rib won't kill me. And before you ask, I promise to drop by the healer once she has helped those more in need of her magic." Frederick looked unconvinced. "I won't collapse, okay? Knowing you, you probably abandoned your position the moment you heard the dragon."
Frederick averted his eyes to his boots, which served to confirm her suspicion. "Not only were you in danger from the dragon, Klein's men were also on their way to the ruins and to you. I had to engage them."
"I'm not mad at you. Without you, Klein would have killed me. At least this one thing has stayed the same; just like with the assassination attempt back home, you jump in to save me from the attack and almost lose your own head in the process."
"You remember this?"
"Of course I do. I was six, not stupid. You looked like a hero to me, you know, with your training sword and torn doublet."
"Don't speak of this day with such mirth. It was awful. You might have been killed."
"But I survived thanks to you. And if the assassin hadn't made it past the guards at the parade, Roy might have never dubbed you a knight, and I wouldn't have you with me now." Lucina sighed. "I'm sorry I lashed out at you in Terra. You were right to keep your oath to your mother, I was just too blind to see all you had done for me. You always did everything you could to protect me…"
"Nothing will change about this. On my word."
Lucina turned and nudged his elbow. "As long as you promise not to die for me, I accept your offer, old man."
They made their way to the edge of Persis in mutual silence. Rows upon rows of metal spikes protruded from the walls, a hideous but effective way to shield the garrison from the destructive hands of thieves and rebels. In terms of the cluster of low buildings themselves, Persis wouldn't win a beauty contest either. The responsible architect had designed the town with military efficiency in mind and little else; plain one-story houses and wide streets without a corner to hide in. A watchtower overlooked the sad construct.
At the eastern edge of the town, a handful of residential buildings pressed against the garrison. By the looks of it, they housed Pheraen settlers who had been so desperate for the military protection that they even accepted Persis ugly front. The golden eagle of the Empire nested all over the houses, in the form of carvings and flags, as though the symbol would protect against evil spirits.
The people inside closed the curtains when Lucina and Frederick passed their doorsteps.
Due to the lack of a helpful guide, they wandered through the streets for a long while before Lucina caught a glimpse of what she had been looking for: the local prison.
On the outside, the jail only identified as such through iron bars placed into the windows, but the spikes in the front garden gave the truth away. Dry blood stuck to the spike heads. A useful tactic to frighten prisoners; if the only view outside of their cell windows consisted of the pierced heads of fellow criminals, they would think twice before attempting a breakout.
Frederick crinkled his nose when Lucina headed for the heavy door. "Are you certain you want to go in there? I have seen enough dead bodies for today."
"Yes, I am certain," Lucina said. "Our group has lost too many people today, and what better way to cheer Cordelia and the others up than by freeing a few of their imprisoned comrades?"
"Isn't our victory satisfaction enough? If it weren't for you and the dragon, all of them would have died today."
Lucina crossed her arms. "Pessimist. Sure, Tiki's arrival boosted their fighting spirit, but the euphory will fade quickly now that they are mourning their losses. I have to present them with something uplifting now that they are the most unsteady."
"You proved that you can win a battle for them. Furthermore, you now wield your father's sword. This legitimizes your heritage and your ability to lead Altea."
"I don't want to lead Altea. Not as their figurehead, and certainly not as their permanent queen. That would only get me in trouble with Roy."
"But the sword does make you the chosen champion of Naga. Everyone who believes in her teachings has to follow you, or else they expose themselves as hypocrites."
Lucina reached for the hilt of Falchion on her back. Wrapped in a piece of cloth, the sword gave a comforting push with every step. She hadn't thought to take Marth's scabbard from his tomb underneath the Glass Fortress, and since Naga had given Falchion a new shape, it wouldn't fit into its old home anyway. Most likely, the blade better corresponded with her own, rather simple leather sheath. But she hesitated to replace her old sword.
Roy had gifted her the weapon – before the world had taken a nosedive into the sea of complicated surprises.
And from a practical standpoint, Lucina's old sword still surpassed ninety percent of weapons an enemy could throw at her on the battlefield. Disposing of such fine steel would be a waste.
"Falchion can't be my answer to everything," Lucina said. "The people who have actually seen the sword before might not even recognize it in this state. Besides, Tiki gave me the idea with the prison. The fastest way to obtain someone's loyalty is by saving them from a miserable life in a cell."
Frederick straightened but looked unconvinced. "If you say so."
Lucina shook her head with a smile. His adorable desire to help her made him a wonderful companion, but it would always prevent him from mastering the role of a leader himself. He served, and with a passion that knew no equal – but he didn't inspire.
Roy inspired those around him. And if all the stories were to be believed, so had Marth. Perhaps Lucina could still learn from their example.
Her fight with the rusty doorhandle of the prison entrance didn't last long before a voice interrupted her, this time not from Frederick.
"Wait up, princess," Cordelia shouted and zeroed in on Lucina with aggravated strides. "Don't think you can slip away this easily."
Lucina turned after a last angry jab at the door. "I thought you and Gregor would appreciate the opportunity to mourn your losses."
"I'm done counting the dead. I can't stand the silence, and Gregor is better at it anyway."
"I wish I could have done more for your men," Lucina said.
A half-smile tugged at the corners of Cordelia's lips. "Well, we knew what we were getting into when we picked a fight with the mighty hand of the king. I know a special someone who would use this moment to blabber about sacrifices and how we can't let them block our path to victory, or something like that. He must really believe in that stuff if he talks about it this often. That moron."
A hazy glow captured Cordelia's eyes when her thoughts circled to this special someone. Her voice adapted a softness Lucina had never heard with her. A husband? A lover perhaps? Lucina filed this information for later use.
"I believe the man you talk about has a point," Frederick said. "You have my condolences for your losses, and if I could offer words to reassure you, I would. I know the cold sting that keeps you awake after a loved one has passed on. Some things, however, are worth dying for. A knight can hope for no better purpose in life than to find this one thing worth sacrificing everything for."
Lucina threw Frederick a sideway glance. The implications he made pointed in a direction she did not like at all.
Cordelia raised a brow in amusement. "I hope I'll one day find something to be as passionate about as you, big guy."
Frederick frowned at the nickname, and Lucina used the opportunity to address Cordelia with a question. "I suppose you didn't just follow us for the sake of chit-chat, did you?"
"I also needed to get away from watching Gregor align the swords and knives and spears of our dead comrades with his unending perfectionism." Cordelia ran a hand through her hair, and her jovial tone disappeared with her next words. "No, this whole thing aside, don't think I didn't notice how you saved us from the wyvern. You had your dragon, you could have just flown away with the sword, and no one would have been able to stop you. But you stayed. You risked life and limb for us. People you hardly know. I guess I owe you a thanks."
This, Lucina had not expected. How could Cordelia get over the death of her comrades with such ease? Why didn't she jump at Lucina's throat to remind her that these people, her friends, had died for her, because she had wanted Falchion? The last thing Cordelia should feel towards Lucina was gratitude.
But there she stood and twirled the white feather attached to her spear in nervous circles because Lucina failed to produce a proper response.
"Don't mention it," Lucina said after a few beats of silence.
Cordelia relaxed. "That's fine with me. If you want to hear a poem to praise you, ask Gregor. Now that that's off my chest, what are you and the big guy doing here of all places anyway?"
"We are looking for prisoners who might be willing to join our cause." Glad to put the awkwardness of the previous conversation behind her, Lucina turned back to the prison door. "Feel free to come along."
"The imperial military isn't known for keeping prisoners for long," Cordelia said.
The rusty handle at last gave in under Lucina's tugging and tearing, and she stepped into the dimness of the building. "I'm aware of their practices. But a short tour won't hurt."
The inside of the prison matched its exterior in its unremarkable design. The musty smell of the stone-made hallways mingled with the tang of blood and bodily waste to create a sickness-inducing tapestry. Lucina bit into the inside of her cheek to strangle her gag reflex. Some of the doors to her left and right no doubt concealed torture chambers. But no sound came from inside the rooms. Only their steps echoed from the walls.
They found no one in the prison cells, and after two corridors, Lucina was tempted to call this expedition a waste of time. The stench was getting to her head, and Frederick looked like he would trade this hallway for every other place in the world, including the wildlands beyond the Black Wall.
Eerie silence stretched its hands towards them.
Lucina rounded another corner and stopped in her tracks. In truth, the prison had not been abandoned. Not entirely.
A lonely Pheraen soldier cowered at the far end of the hallway. A shield hid the majority of his face, but the fear in his eyes shone in the dim light. The spear he pointed at them trembled, but he would make use of the weapon regardless. In this state, with nothing more to lose, he could become a serious threat, fueled by his despair alone.
Lucina made a careful step in the soldier's direction, but Cordelia beat her to the case. With a few graceful jumps, Cordelia crossed the length of the hall, and before the soldier could think of countermeasures, her spear had left a hole in his chest.
Cordelia ended her performance with a pirouette. "Now we're even, princess. I think that was the last one."
Lucina needed all her composure to keep her voice low. But that composure did not translate to her march forward. "Why did you kill him?"
Cordelia backed away half a step before she caught herself. "You need a list of reasons? He wore the enemy's crest, he stood in our way. Oh yeah, and he pointed a weapon at us."
Frederick followed Lucina at a calculated distance that would shield him from Cordelia's wrath. "We could have taken him into custody," he said.
"Like the bastards on the stairs to Seliora?" Cordelia kept her spear at hand, but for the moment she seemed content to vent her anger with words. "What good would that do? What do you want with them?"
"For the moment, I don't want to kill them," Lucina said.
Cordelia narrowed her eyes. "Do I have to remind you that they murdered thirteen of our men? Thirteen. Thirteen more names we can add to the list of people who kicked the bucket in our makeshift war against Pherae. The soldiers you're protecting are more worth dead than alive."
Lucina could barely control her anger. But she had to. After she had made such progress in winning Cordelia's trust and loyalty, she couldn't allow all this to cave in under a thoughtless argument.
But Cordelia's insults hit a little too close to home to ignore.
"I lived among the Pheraen people the entirety of my life," Lucina said, "and I will not condone unnecessary slaughter among them. We can win Altea's freedom without killing innocents."
Cordelia huffed. "Innocents… do you hear yourself talking? You're so painfully naïve. You might spare the lives of these worthless Pheraens, but they won't return the favor, I can tell you that."
"Maybe not. But if I had lived by your ideals back in Gran, you wouldn't be standing here. And I would not have found out the truth about my father, not to mention getting as far as Seliora."
Cordelia said nothing and instead used the time to chew on Lucina's words. Not for the first time, Lucina had outmaneuvered her through arguments and logic. Even if Cordelia wasn't prone to grudges, she might develop a growing resentment if Lucina demolished her ideals too often. She had lost many friends through the Empire, enough to hate all Pheraens. Lucina would have a hard time appeasing this hatred.
"As much as I relish these fine voices, may I use this opportunity to humbly ask for the ladies to open this annoying door that separates us?"
Lucina, Cordelia, and even Frederick jumped. The unknown voice had come from the cell door to Lucina's left, and its manner of speech soaked in too many layers of formality for a prison, as though the owner had called them over for tea in his garden under a fragrant magnolia tree. When Lucina stepped forward to push the bolt aside and open the door, the sight did not disappoint her imagination.
The man in the cell looked about as out of place as a parrot in a cemetery. He throned on the shaky stool in the center of the room and beckoned Lucina to enter his domain. The dirt of the floor did not dare to stain his boot tips, and his robe rustled with an overabundance of frills, a look that would spark the envy of the highest social circles in Lycia.
"Ah, what wonderful visitors grace this lonely afternoon," the man said and took Lucina's hand to breathe a kiss on its back. Her fingers tingled, and from this brief touch, they already smelled as if she had drenched them in a bucket of rose water. "If I may introduce myself, I am Virion of Persis, second of my name."
Cordelia groaned. "Not you! And here I had hoped the Pheraen's finally gotten rid of you."
Virion ignored the comment and proceeded to subject Cordelia to the same rosy greeting he had offered Lucina. "Ah Cordelia, your fiery passion burns ever brighter. With your coming, you have invited the sun back into this sorrowful pit. Truly a joyous day. Now, by any chance, Cherche hasn't come also to ease my loneliness?"
"Luckily, she set out with Ike for a mission in the east. Far away from you."
"Oh my, how unfortunate indeed. But let's not be so sentimental in company of our guests." Virion raised his hands to encompass Lucina and Frederick. Quite the feat considering his cell measured less than the span of his arms. "Have you at last found new recruits for your merry adventure? And such fine ones at that."
"I wouldn't call them my recruits. More like my superiors. And what we're doing is not a merry adventure. I have thirteen dead people outside who can attest that."
Virion chuckled. "Always so serious, dear Cordelia. She has shown this wonderful quality on the very first meeting between my father and her group of adventurers when she threw a knife at me on the dinner table."
"And I'm tempted to do it again." Cordelia turned to Lucina. "If you hoped to find new supporters here, you couldn't have hit a worse deal than with this guy. Everyone's better off if we lock him back in his cell."
"So, you know him through the resistance movement," Lucina said. "Doesn't that mean he's your ally?"
Lucina looked back and forth between Cordelia and Virion. Several pieces of the conversation between them didn't sit right with her, and a particular bit of information always escaped her grasp when she tried to make sense of the mess. Something Cordelia had said about other rebels…
"Virion is the last person I would call an ally," Cordelia said. "His father worked with us for a little before the Pheraens discovered the less glamorous side of his business. All this guy did was deafen us with his pretty prose."
Frederick, who had kept quiet up until now, raised his voice. "House Virion had a reputation as an influential family in Pherae. I can't see why they would go out of their way to help the Altean rebellion."
"Ah, friend, you are underestimating the weak heart of my father." Virion waved a hand to shoo away the memory of his father like one would a nasty fly. "The air here in Persis did him no good. And instead of conversing with the upper class, the old man picked his company in rebels and tossed out our riches to help their cause. Well, the Pheraen Empire made him repent his folly. Unfortunately, due to a bureaucratic misunderstanding, I too have to suffer the consequences. Would you believe that they don't even serve tea here?"
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "How about a fist in your face instead? That should block the endless stream of your words for a precious five seconds. Enough for us to get out of here."
"There must be better alternatives," Frederick said, but Virion's overabundance of… personality threw him off balance as well.
Virion laughed. "Cordelia, dear, you wouldn't think to leave before you at least introduced me to your friends. I have rarely seen you in such splendid company. With the exception of Cherche's mesmerizing loveliness, of course."
"If that shuts you up, fine. The big guy is Frederick, and the princess here goes by Lucina."
Virion's eyes widened, and he stopped bathing in his ego for a moment to examine Lucina. "I would not think it possible, but His Highness, King Roy, he had a ward with the exact same name. And looking at you now, there is no mistaking, you hold yourself with the very same regal bearing as the great king does. What marvelous guests fate has brought to my doorsteps today! You must excuse my unsightly attire, as you can see, my wardrobe here leaves plenty to be desired."
Next to the battered and dirty armors of Lucina, Frederick, and Cordelia, Virion's white robe almost glowed with its perfect creases.
"Before you start proposing to her, Lucina isn't with Roy anymore," Cordelia said.
"I never suggested anything of sorts," Lucina hissed, but Virion interrupted her before she had the chance to explain.
"I see, I see. Terrible fortunes overtake the best of us. Look at me and the hole I had to call home for the past weeks. You have my condolences, sweet Lucina. If there is anything I can do to ease your sorrow, please do not hesitate to ask."
Frederick looked tempted to shove Lucina out of Virion's perfumed reach. "A generous offer, but I believe we have wasted too much of your time already."
"Yeah, your flamboyant gestures won't help us much," Cordelia said and turned towards the door.
Lucina made no move to accompany her. Virion's courtly behavior aside, the man had to possess talents that could be of use to her. Gold, contacts, an unmatched ability to blend in among a crowd of noblemen; maybe he would surprise her with an affinity for magic spells. A try wouldn't cost her. If her excurse to the prison only presented her with Virion, she would have to make the most of this prize.
"Virion, I cannot tell you how happy your offer makes me," Lucina said and punctuated her words with a sugary smile. "I would be honored to enjoy your company for longer. But you must understand that I have to keep the wellbeing of my party in mind. We have lost many fighters today, and a long journey awaits us before we reach Terra. I cannot guarantee your protection under these circumstances."
Virion took her hand and petted it. "Your concern honors you. However, you may cast aside your worries. For I am a man who strides across history's stage and conquers all obstacles that may come. The man who puts the 'arch' in archer!"
Checkmate.
"Oh, I would love to see a demonstration of your marksmanship soon," Lucina said. "But don't you have an estate and servants here in Persis that await your return?"
"No, no, I am a man of my words. Nothing holds me in these uninspiring walls anymore, and the Pheraen Empire has betrayed my loyalty one too many times. I would feel delighted to see you succeed on your little adventure, sweet Lucina."
"May Naga have mercy on us," Cordelia mumbled. "Now that we have picked up the most annoying man in Archanea, what grandiose plan do you have for us next?"
Lucina left the cell and made her way back through the hallway. The others followed. "If none of the Pheraen soldiers are willing to take me to Roy, I will go to him myself. Which means the next destination is Terra."
"The majority of us don't even have horses. A trip to Terra would take us a week if not more on foot," Cordelia said.
Virion attempted to link arms with her, and Cordelia struggled to fend him off. "Ah, let your tired feet not hold you back. My estate houses the finest horses within a radius of twenty wyvern miles."
"Perfect, then we will meet in Terra in three days," Lucina said.
Cordelia freed herself from Virion's grip by pinning him against the wall with her spear. The threat left him unimpressed, which only fueled her anger. "And how exactly do you plan to get there if not by horse?"
"I know a faster alternative. If a Manakete swore me her loyalty, why shouldn't I make use of that?"
Notes: The first part of this chapter gave me Apotheose war flashbacks when I reread it. I'm still shaking at the thought of this horrendous mission. Whoever designed this thing has no heart. My personal trauma aside, this chapter should arrive just in time to qualify as a Thursday upload on my clock. And the chapter brought Virion with it! I told you I had a few more fun character interactions planned. Did I deliver? For me at least, Virion was so stupidly delightful to write.
Considering this will be my last update of the year, I wish you all a terrific transition into 2022. Here's hoping it will be a better year... So long!