Birth and Re-Death
Chapter 31: Take Me Home, Country Wyvern
Aventine's hand shakes as he reads the missive his scout has just handed him.
"N-no. This isn't right. Why would he do this? And so soon after his arrest was announced? If he wanted to draw us out, wouldn't he give us more time to act? This… doesn't make any sense," he says, more to himself than anyone else.
"I am sorry, milord. But these fliers were distributed all through the capital, and they've started to circulate more widely. They appear to be legitimate," the scout replies solemnly.
The door to the sitting room opens, and Octavia steps in. However, seeing Aventine's face gives her pause, and she stops near the doorway. She asks, "Aventine? What's the matter?" He doesn't reply. "What's that?" She points to the paper in his still-shaking hand.
What could he possibly tell her? He can barely bring himself to open his mouth at all against the quivering of his chin.
"Aventine… Please, tell me what that is," Octavia says, looking as though that paper is actually the last thing she wants to see.
"O-Octavia," Aventine murmurs. "From the capital. News. About M-Mustafa…"
Octavia puts it together. She makes it as far as the nearest chair before her legs quit supporting her. "Please, no."
Tears claw their way out of the old man's eyes. "I… I'm sorry. I should have made him come with us. I know I could have convinced him. If I'd only been more brave. I'm so sorry, Octavia."
His apology falls on mostly deaf ears, as Octavia too has begun to weep. Though they had both done their best to prepare themselves for this possibility, to see it written plainly in front of them still proves too much. The scout politely bows out of the room to allow his lord and Mustafa's wife time and space to grieve.
I allow myself a microsecond to check that yes, I narrowly managed not to shit myself. Have the Plegians already found us? How is that possible? I guess it's not unreasonable that a fairly wealthy estate could be attacked by the enemy, but there's no way that's all this is. Most of the Feroxi forces were well-hidden in the woods and shouldn't have been conspicuous to anyone who didn't already know to look for them. It all seems too convenient that this place would be getting ambushed the one day that we're here.
Someone leaked something. Son of a bitch, maybe we really do have a traitor in our midst like the khans feared.
Whatever, you can worry about that later, the first thing to do is not die if you can avoid it. I consider just giving myself the knife and taking the respawn, but there's no guarantee that Robin's awake, which means it's too dangerous for me to die just yet. I have to see Robin with my own eyes before I'm confident enough to let myself die.
It seems we're being attacked from the west, so they're coming out of the Wolf Forest. That makes it difficult to tell how many there are, who's in charge, or what they came to play with.
Fortunately, it seems the Feroxi have been quick to realize there's an ambush going on, so our side is rapidly mobilizing to take the fight to the enemy. This is especially helpful because I have neither my staff nor my tome with me, which means I'm pretty much useless until I can get back to the manor. I have my Feroxi knife, but that's a last resort weapon for sure. That means, unfortunately, my job right now is to run.
And so I do. I duck and weave between packs of Feroxi, all the while shouting things like "I'm a Shepherd!" and "I'm unarmed!" and "Please don't cleave my head in half!" Fortunately, it seems I look just harmless enough that no Feroxi take a swing at me.
God, why did I walk this far into the forest?
I'm forced to dive for cover when someone fires an Elfire blast in my direction. So they've got mages. Great. Though the Elfire misses me, it damages a nearby tree enough that it starts tipping over as its trunk burns out. As it collapses against a couple other trees, the fire spreads from one tree to another, lighting up the trio. Meanwhile, I'm scrambling to my feet and trying to loop around the trees so I'm not in danger of any falling limbs.
A roar from far above me confirms another fact about the enemy: they've got wyvern riders. They're not flying among the trees, so I don't have to worry about them just yet, but to get back to the manor I'll have to get past them.
Meanwhile, it seems like the Plegians are busting through the Feroxi lines, at least enough that their destruction of the forest is proceeding unabated. Fire and lightning continue to rain down on the trees, creating a massive forest fire and turning the whole place into an inferno. The growing fire greedily sucks the oxygen from the surrounding air and makes it thin and difficult to breathe. Meanwhile, the archers that nearly hit me before continue to fire on the Feroxi troops, who are in turn doing their best to combat the mages.
I gasp in pain as I feel the full force of an Elfire blast hit my back. Despite my resistance keeping the blast from doing me in outright, it's still no joke to take a direct hit like that. Additionally, it sets my robes aflame, and I'm forced to rip them from my body and throw them to the ground. Fortunately, I manage to slip the knife out of its sheath before it goes with the rest. Whoever threw the blast at me isn't keeping up the attack, so hopefully that means a Feroxi got ahold of him.
In any case, I'm almost to the edge of the forest. Now comes the hard part. Hopefully my dark underclothes will make me difficult to see from above. I make a break for it.
As I get clear of the forest, I look around as I run to get a sense of what's going on. It seems we aren't only being attacked from the west, but the south as well. A massive force is moving north up the road, with many of them diverting east to sack the village but the bulk of them heading for the manor itself.
However, it's good to see that the manor itself appears to be abuzz with movement as the Shepherds inside prepare to fight the enemy. At the very least they're not being caught totally off-guard.
Not that it's exactly gonna help me much out here. Fucking hell, they're gonna reach the manor before I do. What the hell am I meant to do now? Just hunker down somewhere and hope I'm not seen? Kill a guy with my knife and take his weapon to use on his buddies? Somehow I think that sort of Breath of the Wild shit doesn't work in real life.
Shit, I've been seen. Looks like my choice has been made for me. A few of the Plegians break away from the pack to charge at me. A lancer and two mercs, by the look of them, though with only the light of the burning forest and the stars above to help me it's a little hard to tell. I tighten my grip on my knife.
In their haste to shed some blood, they allow themselves to break formation, and one of the mercs reaches me before his allies. Dodge that swing! Dodge the next! Back up, back up, okay, this isn't working. At this rate I'll be cut to ribbons before I can even think of getting my own knife in range to attack. I turn and start to flee, only to smash headlong into a Feroxi soldier fleeing the other way. As we fall to the ground, he drops his hatchet in the grass. The merc pursuing me most heavily apparently decides the Feroxi is a bigger threat, as he ignores me to take a stab at the poor guy while he's reaching for the fallen axe.
Soon, though, I know I'll be the target again. I pick up the guy's hatchet myself and cock my shoulder back.
Out of curiosity, did you ever see Hostel? Just wondering.
I take a swing at the back of the merc's leg, hitting him just above the heel. The guy instantly screams in agony and collapses to the ground. Now, just like you've been practicing. Separate the physicality from the emotion. Allow your body to be furious, but don't let your mind give way. I grip my knife and plunge it into his throat.
By now the other two are almost on me. I wrestle the sword from the gurgling merc's hand and scramble to my feet just in time to bat aside the stab aimed at my face from the lancer.
I'm about to have to have a two-on-one fight against two trained soldiers while wielding an unfamiliar weapon. I'm straight boned.
Even so, a guy's gotta try. I focus first on positioning, not allowing myself to get surrounded and sidestepping any attempts to corral me into a corner where I'll have to take attacks from two directions. Most of the rest of my effort is being spent on blocking their strikes. I'm not able to find any openings to attack either of them, leaving me completely on the defensive. Without some kind of shift in the fight, I'm not going to last much longer at this rate.
A lightning bolt from the sky striking the lancer will do nicely, thank you. A quick glance up reveals that either Sumia or Cordelia must have managed to take to the sky and unleash a timely blast of Thunder to save my ass. Seems like that training they've been doing with Robin has paid off. The lancer seizes up and collapses to the ground, leaving only the other merc to contend with. Meanwhile, the pegasus rider who came to my rescue (it's still too dark to see who it is) has moved on to the main group charging the manor, and she hurls spells at them from a safe distance.
A wide and conspicuous swing that I only narrowly duck from my remaining opponent refocuses my attention on him. Even just in a one-on-one setting, it becomes rapidly apparent who's been training for years with the sword and who has held swords for a grand total of a few minutes since he came to this world. To say he's got me on my back foot would be an understatement.
A botched block of one of his swipes sends his blade into my forearm, giving it a deep cut and drawing a yelp of pain out of me. It also severely compromises my ability to hold my sword properly, forcing me to switch it to my right hand. Now this is not going to go well.
I step back as quickly as possible, but end up tripping on the body of the lancer on the ground and falling on my back. The merc is closing the gap rapidly and is about to deal the final blow. In an act of desperation, I throw the sword in my hand at him, hoping to get a lucky blow and end the fight here. Unfortunately, the blade itself doesn't hit him at all. More fortunately, though, the hilt strikes him squarely between the eyes, making him clutch his face and cry in pain. I've bought myself a few seconds.
I spot the lance in the still-convulsing lancer's hand. Well, Robin has been trying to get me to learn, after all.
The lance enters the merc's chest just as he was getting ready to get back into the fight. He gasps futilely, gripping the shaft and trying with his rapidly waning strength to dislodge it. I do him the favor of pulling it out myself, and he falls to his side a couple seconds later.
So, that's one skirmish survived. Where the hell is Robin? Finding her is the next step. I start running toward the manor doors, lance still in hand but trying to avoid drawing anyone's eye.
A bolt of lightning shot from the ground catches my eye as I approach the corner of the manor's south tower. A flash in the sky confirms that it hit its target: the pegasus rider who saved my skin just a couple minutes ago. The pegasus lopsidedly spirals to the ground, landing about a hundred and fifty yards southeast of the manor.
While the bulk of the soldiers continue to press on toward the manor, I see the silhouette of one person break from the pack and start toward the fallen rider. Looks like whoever shot her down is looking to finish the job.
Not if I have anything to say about it.
Keeping my head down and diverting south to loop around the invaders, I run as fast as possible to close the gap as quickly as I can. Mercifully, no one notices me as I slip behind them and all but sprint toward the faint white shape of the collapsed and immobile pegasus in the field.
As I get closer, I can make out the pained crying of the one who fell. That's Cordelia, for sure. And now in this open field I can see who's the one going after her as well.
What the hell is Gangrel doing here? Before I can begin to piece together why he might be here himself, he raises his Levin sword and fires a bolt at Hyperion's face. The pegasus' head collapses to the ground.
"Hyperion!" Cordelia cries, shaking his shoulder desperately with one hand while holding the other arm (significantly bent out of place) close to her chest. Looks like she's taken some serious damage from the fall as well. After a second, though, she remembers herself and leaps off her mount, scooping up her lance off the ground with her working arm and pointing it at Gangrel. "You monster!"
"Hah! I've been called worse by people who mattered more," Gangrel spits, brandishing his sword at her in turn.
He still doesn't see me. This is my chance. I approach as quietly as possible, then attempt a stab at his heart from behind. However, with alarming speed he sidesteps and bats my jab aside, sending a painful shock down the lance and up my arm as well.
"What, did you think you were being stealthy? I heard your approach from a hundred yards away," he sneers.
"Randall! What are you doing here? Get back inside!" Cordelia shouts, beginning to sidestep around Gangrel to try and get between me and him.
"No can do, I'm afraid," I reply, preparing to deflect his next attack while I also step closer to Cordelia to get between her and him. "You're injured and need to get the hell outta here, right now."
"I could tell you the same thing," she fires back. I don't have a reply ready.
Not that it matters, because Gangrel seems content to fight both of us. He springs forward, sword flashing, and I manage to hit his blade aside, though the electricity seizes up my arm something fierce for a split second afterward. Fortunately, Cordelia is there to close the gap and pick up my slack, jabbing remarkably precisely for a fighter with one working arm. Even so, her strength is pretty much halved, and Gangrel has the upper hand. I try stabbing him myself, but quick as a flash he hits Cordelia's lance into mine, shocking both of us and making Cordelia lose her grip on her lance, leaving her defenseless.
Now most fighters would switch their focus to the one who's still armed because they're still a threat, but I think Gangrel's figured out I'm nothing special with a lance compared to his skill with the blade, so he decides to go after Cordelia instead. This means I have to play defense for two people now, with Cordelia backing up frantically and Gangrel pursuing her, and I'm barely managing to hold him off her.
"Run, God damnit!" I shout at her as I attempt a stab for his leg that he effortlessly swats aside. I'm going to lose this. I need to start preparing for the possibility of a second run. "Where's Robin?"
"I don't know! I never saw her! And I'm not running!" Cordelia replies, even though Gangrel is being careful to stand between her and her fallen lance, making it impossible for her to get it and rejoin the fight.
Gangrel's eyes glint in the moonlight as he charges at me and scores a hit on my right shoulder, clipping the flesh something awful. It's all I can do not to drop the lance right there, especially when the shock from the sword accompanies the cut. Robin or no, I think the end of this run is rushing to meet me. Gangrel raises his sword above his shoulder.
"Oh no you don't!" I hear from the sky above us. Gangrel must hear it too, since he diverts his attention to the pegasus bearing down on him. He fires the bolt he prepared for me at Sumia instead, who thanks to her incredible skill in the saddle manages to narrowly dodge it. Still, it forces her to change course enough that instead of the killing blow she was aiming for, she has no choice but to pass overhead harmlessly.
She makes an impressively tight turn once she's passed us, but is forced to curve up to avoid a second shot from Gangrel. Looks like his attention is on her for the moment. Now's my chance. I stab at his heart, but he sees the movement just in time to leap back and only take a minor blow to the collarbone area instead. While Sumia gets back on course, he fires another bolt at me, and with Cordelia behind me, I have no choice but to take the hit. My chest seizes and tightens so much that I think my muscles are going to pull themselves right off their tendons.
"Sumia, no!" I hear Cordelia cry at first behind and then to the right of me. Fortunately, it seems Sumia has figured out that Gangrel is perfectly capable of fighting the two of us at once, so she's changed her plan and swooped in to grab Cordelia and pull her onto Kestrel's back. Less fortunately, there's no way her leaner pegasus can handle getting me up there as well. I have to hold out.
"I'll be back, Randall!" Sumia shouts over her shoulder as she flies the still-struggling Cordelia away from the fight.
I still can't catch my breath. Looks like this'll be it for this run. I raise my lance anyway, just in case I'm wrong. I still haven't seen Robin, after all, so I can't yet call it safe to die. I have to try to live for as long as I can.
"Looks like it's just you and me now, boy," Gangrel sneers. Oh, that's right. He's a gloater. Maybe I can buy myself some time that way. Sure as shit ain't gonna buy it actually fighting the guy.
"Well, that was what I wanted all along. Or did you miss the part where I was telling her to run?" I ask, my voice dripping with condescension.
He huffs, irritated. "You know, I don't like any Ylisseans, but you might be my least favorite of the lot. And trust me, that title is hard-earned."
"Oh my goodness, am I blushing?" I reply.
"I think it's time someone reminded you to show a little respect," he growls, shooting another bolt at my chest. Though I do my damndest to sidestep it, the blast still catches my arm, making me lose feeling in my hand and, by extension, my grip on the lance. Seeing the opening he's created, he wastes no time dashing forward and knocking the weapon out of the other hand as well, and it falls to the soil. He raises his sword to my throat.
This is it. I hope Robin's awake by now.
…
Any second now…
"Well? Are you gonna– oof!" Something huge and metal hits me in the back of the head, and my vision blurs as I fall to the ground beside my fallen lance.
Gangrel bends over me, as does the person in black armor now standing beside him.
"I think I'd like to take this one home with me. See to it that he's not dead by the time he gets there, so he can learn some manners first," Gangrel tells the guy who I'm now realizing just clocked me in the head with a gauntleted fist.
"Of course, Your Highness." He crouches down over me and slips off his helmet with one hand. "Remember me, priest?"
Well now, that's an unexpected sight.
"Oh, hey Vasto. Aren't you supposed to be dead?" I ask. The last thing I see is Vasto rolling his eyes before my vision fades completely.
Lucina hasn't felt this helpless in a long time. Despite her desperate desire to fight off the Plegians and drive them away from the manor, she knows for sure that she'd be overrun and killed if she tried. She can't so much as get inside to check on her father's safety when the doors are blocked with fire like that. She could pick off a few stray Plegians here and there, perhaps, but the risk of revealing her position outweighs the benefits that a few more corpses would provide right now.
But then, a flash of light shoots into the sky, far off from the other magic attacks coming from the manor or the forest. A single pegasus spirals down to the ground on the other side of the packs of Plegians storming the manor. It looked like it was falling slowly enough for that to be a survivable fall.
Finally, a way she can help. With practiced stealth, she blends into the shadows and stalks behind the Plegian horde to get around the enemy and closer to the fallen rider. She skirts just around the outside of the group to waste as little time as possible.
Unfortunately, she gets too greedy with trading stealth for efficiency, and a few Plegians spot her. If she stays to fight them, she's sure to only draw more attention. Instead, she diverts south down the road the bulk of the invasion force marched in on. They might have her outnumbered, but her speed far outmatches them, and it isn't long before she's lost her pursuers. However, getting away from them meant also putting a lot of distance between her and the fallen rider. She's lost a lot of time.
More carefully this time, she continues running toward where she saw the pegasus go down. At this point, the chance that the rider is still alright is quite slim, but it's the only thing she can do to help at this point, so she presses on regardless.
As she passes through a thin line of trees and opens her field of view to the area where the rider fell, she can see the curled white form of the unfortunate mount, lying motionless on the ground. She sees a couple silhouettes of people fighting, one with a lance and one with a flashing sword, likely a Levin sword.
Hold on… is that King Gangrel? He's here, now? On his own, out in the open?
She quickens her pace, especially when she sees the lance fighter lose their weapon. She's not going to get there in time. She's not going to be fast enough.
A shadow swoops down from the sky and collides with the unarmed lancer. She stops running and reevaluates her situation as she realizes a wyvern rider has just landed on the scene. Despite Falchion's impressive ability to cleave dragon and wyvern flesh, the massive creatures still give her pause.
She watches warily as the rider slowly dismounts from the wyvern and… limps?... over to Gangrel and their victim. Is she too late? Has the pegasus rider already been killed?
While she tries to carefully circle around the scene and get a look at who the fallen rider is and what became of them, the wyvern rider stands up, their victim slung over their shoulder. As the pair return to the wyvern, a beam of moonlight catches the face of the one being loaded onto the wyvern's saddle. That's Uncle Randy!
She gasps, her hand flying to her face, but she quickly regains her composure. She has to stop them, now.
While the rider himself swings his leg over the wyvern's neck, she charges with a cry and attempts to stab the beast through the throat. As she does so, though, she is hit with an incredibly loud, bright flash that stops her in her tracks and seizes up her muscles enough that her attack is rendered powerless. So this is the power of a Levin sword in the hands of a trained professional.
She's unable to do anything but watch as the wyvern takes Randall (or his body?) into the air and off to the southwest. Toward Plegia.
But now, she has to focus on herself and her survival. Gangrel takes another swing at her, which she is forced to jump back to avoid.
"Oh, I remember you. You're with the Shepherds, aren't you?" Gangrel sneers as he takes another swing and follows it up with a blast of lightning, forcing Lucina to both duck and then dive to avoid the onslaught. "You haven't offended my sensibilities the way that mouthy priest has, though, so you may have the gift of a quick death. Come and accept my gift!"
She scrambles to her feet, breathing heavily as she watches his eyes carefully to look for tells about his next move. If she can defeat him now, the war could lose a great deal of fervor on both sides.
Easier said than done. She hadn't heard many stories about who Gangrel was as a person, let alone what sort of fighter he was, but it's clear that he's seen his share of battlefields. He's a formidable whirlwind of steel and lightning, and it takes all her focus to avoid both the blade and its magic. He must be a skilled mage as well as a skilled swordsman to have magical attacks this potent.
Even so, she received the training of some of the world's best bladesmen in her youth. Her father trained her while he could, and even after his death, Uncle Lon'qu, Frederick, and Gregor had each taken some time with her to confer their skills. Thanks to their combined efforts, teenager though she was, the most powerful skill of the Exalted family line came into her repertoire. And now seems as good a time as any to use it.
She focuses her energy around Falchion's blade in her hand, and she feels the blade quietly hum in response. The angle is everything when inflicting a Sol attack, so as to tap into the enemy's ambient magic and steal their life force. Wait for an opening… there!
Gangrel overreaches to try and catch her with a bolt of lightning, leaving his sword too far from his body to defend him properly. She ducks under the attack and scores a major diagonal blow from his lower chest across his abdomen. As she does so, she feels the energy travel across the blade and through her arm, warming her chest and filling her with vigor.
And now. Just like Father and Frederick taught you. She leaps back, preparing to capitalize on his moment of weakness and complete the Aether with a Luna strike while he's still reeling. She leaps forward, preparing to impale the king on Falchion's blade and end this conflict.
Except when she charges through, her blade finds only air waiting for it. Even grimly wounded, Gangrel proves agile enough to sidestep her attack. He growls through gritted teeth, one hand essentially holding his sliced abdomen together as he hobbles away from her, firing haphazard bolts of lightning behind him to hold her off.
Though Lucina immediately moves to pursue him, she is waylaid by a wyvern rider who dives down from the sky to catch her unawares. His axe only clips her shoulder, but in a second, he's already turned around in the air and coming back for her.
This time, she's ready for him. She ducks to avoid his axe, but as he passes overhead, she slips Falchion into the crook of the axe's blade and twists, yanking the axe out of his hand (and doing a number on her own arm in the process). He takes a few seconds longer to come around on the third pass, but in hand is a new axe, presumably an extra brought with him for just such an occasion.
As he flies in for another attack, Lucina raises her left arm, still holding his old axe, and throws it at him. Of course, as she's never been trained in axe-throwing, it doesn't really come close to hitting him, but it does alarm him enough to slightly divert his course and slow his wyvern down. Slow enough that Lucina can catch the beast in the wing with her scale-rending sword. The wyvern screeches and crashes to the ground behind her. The rider, his leg still trapped under the heavy wyvern's body, shouts in pain and panic. Lucina swiftly runs over to the fallen rider, slices his mount's neck with Falchion, and stabs him through the chest in the same motion.
Only when both rider and mount stop breathing does she allow herself to stop holding her own breath. The moment the fight is done, she whirls back toward the direction in which Gangrel ran off, but he is nowhere to be seen.
Finally, we've got the defensive countermeasures ready. I give the signal, and all at once, about a dozen casks of burning oil are dropped off the tops of the watchtowers onto the Plegian forces below. The results are… I'll say tactically satisfying. It certainly disrupts their attempts to knock down the doors to the manor.
Meanwhile, Virion, Basilio, Lon'qu, Gaius, and Vaike, along with a few of the Anchorage security guards, are firing arrows down into the crowd with relative impunity from atop the towers. Our mages are proving similarly useful, though their bright and highly visible attacks mean they have to move frequently to prevent return fire from being a problem. Even so, the quick reaction of the Shepherds to the commotion in the forest is commendable, and at this rate it seems clear that we can hold off this attack.
Now our remaining worries are threefold. Firstly, the manor might be safe, but the village is certainly not, and if we don't act quickly, there won't be much of a village left to protect. Secondly, while I have no doubt of their prowess in combat, we have no means of communicating with the bulk of the Feroxi forces stationed in the forest. While I have heard plenty about the durability of the Feroxi spirit, the rate at which the forest itself is being burned down does not exactly inspire confidence.
And thirdly, and objectively most importantly, no one can say where Randall is with any degree of certainty. And as much as I would like to be out there looking for him, unfortunately I'm needed here to continue directing the counterattack. Hopefully either Sumia or Cordelia will have found him by now, but until they return, I'm left in the dark as to his whereabouts. As a result, despite how well the fight here is going, my stress levels are through the roof.
Oh, thank the gods, there's Sumia at least. She lands uncharacteristically roughly on the south tower's roof, and all but collapses off the pegasus' back as she attempts to dismount. I see that Cordelia is in the saddle with her, which is more than a bit alarming.
Thankfully, Lissa is here to see to their healing posthaste. As she treats what appears to be a broken arm on Cordelia and several burns on Sumia's torso, I waste no time getting my report.
"I'm glad you're safe. Where's Randall?" I ask as I stride over to them and crouch next to them as they lie on the stone. The pair of them stumble over each other in an effort to tell me right away.
"He's down there," Cordelia says, pointing to the relatively open field southeast of the manor.
"He was protecting Cordelia after Hyperion got shot down," Sumia continues.
"He was still alive when we left him, but–"
"He's fighting Gangrel. King Gangrel is here with the Plegians."
"Gangrel's here?" I ask. They nod. "And you LEFT him there?"
Sumia bows her head in shame, but Cordelia speaks up, "Kestrel couldn't have made the flight back with all three of us, so Sumia did what she could. I didn't want to leave him behind, but…"
If she says anything else, she says it too quietly for me to hear. It doesn't matter anyway, because I'm no longer listening. My mind has already moved on to thinking about what comes next. Randall's almost certainly dead if he's really been left alone to fight Gangrel. Even so, there's a chance he's still alive down there. Whether it's because he's armed himself and is defending himself, or perhaps he could have escaped. In any case, until I see evidence for sure one way or another, I have to assume he's alive. Which means we need to get down there, now.
As Cordelia's arm bends back into shape with a gut-wrenching snap, I ask, "Are either of you in any shape to get back down there? I have to get Randall to safety."
While Lissa begins healing the weary pegasus, Sumia sits up, probing the spots on her chest where she took hits before. "I mean, I can get back there, but if I brought you as well, there'd be no point. Kestrel can't hold more than two people in the first place. So one of us would have to stay behind there, and since you don't know how to fly, that would leave only you."
"I just have to see that he's alive. That's all that matters," I reply, exasperated. Obviously, I can't expect her to get it, but that doesn't do anything for my patience.
"I'll take you down there," Cordelia says, sitting up as well. "I didn't want to leave him in the first place," she adds, giving Sumia a sidelong glance. "And as long as Gangrel is with the enemy, I want to do everything we can to take him down. He has a lot to pay for."
"Cordelia, don't be reckless! The smart move is to pick Randall up and get him back here before we do anything else," Sumia protests.
Ordinarily, Sumia would be right, but I have to find out where Randall is. That is the only priority right now. This run is probably a good one to abandon anyway.
"Will you take me now?" I ask.
Cordelia nods, then turns to Sumia. "I'm sorry, Sumia. I promise I'll bring Kestrel back safely, alright?"
Sumia gives the pair of us a helpless look. "Wh-what am I supposed to do, then? I'm only any good when I'm in the air. On the ground I'm a useless klutz!"
"Get inside and protect your family. Protect them with everything you've got. I know you won't mess up, Sumia," Cordelia replies with a reassuring clap on her shoulder.
Sumia hesitates for a moment, then nods resolutely. "Okay. Go quickly, then." She picks up her lance and hastens toward the hatch down to the staircase.
It's only as Cordelia lifts me up onto the pegasus behind her that I realize I've never flown before. Good gods we are on a tall tower. Cordelia prompts the pegasus to gallop toward the edge, making my stomach twist in my chest. I have to throw both arms around Cordelia's waist, close my eyes, and squeeze for dear life as I feel the pegasus leap, flap, flap, and glide. Only after a solid five or so seconds can I force my eyes open to scan the ground below for Randall.
No sign of him from this height. Gods above, that's a lot of Plegians. We've taken out a lot already, but they've definitely still got the advantage of numbers. We reach the field Cordelia pointed out before, but aside from the prone and unmoving form of what I assume is Cordelia's pegasus, I don't see anyone this far away from the fight, dead or alive. If he's dead, that means they dragged his body off somewhere, which seems unlikely. Wherever he is, he was at least alive when he disengaged from Gangrel here.
But where would he have gone? Back to the manor would be a fool's errand, as there's a veritable sea of Plegians to cut through to get there. To the village would be equally idiotic if he went alone, as he would be vastly outnumbered against the at least three dozen or so that went out there. Would he have tried to find safety among the Feroxi in the forest? Possible, I suppose, and arguably the least unlikely thing he'd do, but still seems off somehow.
I don't want to think about it, but there's the possibility that he's been taken prisoner. Probably the worst possible thing that could happen in this situation unless we can get him back. A chill runs down my spine.
We keep looking for a while, but for the most part all we do is draw attention from the wyvern riders circling the property just beyond the range of our archers. Thankfully, with Cordelia's and my combined magical talent, we have little trouble keeping them off us. Even so, with every passing moment, my anxiety mounts. I'd almost rather find his corpse than continue to find nothing at all like this. Hell, we can't even find Gangrel in this mess of people.
Eventually, though I hate to admit it, we have no choice but to return to the watchtower. Until Randall's fate can be confirmed one way or another, keeping the rest of the Shepherds alive is the next biggest priority.
I reluctantly order Cordelia to return us to the others for now. I can tell by her expression that she hates the idea of leaving his fate unknown as much as I do. Even so, we return to the others, careful to dodge stray arrows from archers as we approach the manor. She touches down on the south tower's roof, and I leap with joy off the back of the pegasus and back to solid ground. I think I prefer to leave flying to the fliers, personally.
I'm informed that we're out of oil casks to drop on the enemy, and the fires that have been keeping them away from the grand hall doors are going to burn out soon. That means the fight is about to move to its next stage: inside the manor.
I motion for the mages atop both towers to leave their posts here and follow me inside. I command Virion to keep everything under control up topside and duck through the hatch, making haste down to the main floor. Thankfully, it seems like everyone is ready to go here as well. Chrom, Stahl, Panne, Gregor, Kellam, and Sully make up our front line, along with the security staff that aren't fighting on the roof. Behind them are the mages, the healers aside from Lissa, and myself. I take a quick look around and do a mental headcount; all the Shepherds except Randall are accounted for.
And of course, we can't leave out our best resource for door defense, as the Plegians quickly learn when they break through the doors moments later. Nowi, waiting just a couple feet behind the doorway, roars at an incredible, window-shattering volume, and spits a spray of dragon fire at the first unfortunate souls to try and charge inside. When she has to stop to inhale, some slip past her, only to be greeted by a combination of sturdy shields and destructive magic. With only one entrance to the manor, the Plegians are forced to funnel themselves into a convenient killzone with no tactical advantage or even any knowledge of the interior layout of the manor.
The only problem we have is that the bodies themselves start to pile up eventually, making it somewhat harder to aim. It's a wholesale slaughter. Clearly Gangrel's gift for national leadership doesn't extend to field command. He counted on numbers to save him, but if you can narrow those numbers into a manageable space, they don't mean anything anymore. Instead, all that waits for his men through this doorway is death. With Maribelle, Libra, Anna, and even Miriel now waiting in the wings to heal any wounds sustained by the Shepherds, we don't even have to worry about the line getting too fatigued to go on. We could legitimately keep this up all night long.
Eventually, it seems the Plegians realize this as well. The flow of soldiers through the doorway slows and eventually stops. Gregor goes outside to check what's going on.
He pokes his head back into the doorway. "They are making with the leaving! Like little fawn running from hungry bear, they scamper back into woods!"
While the others start to cheer, I hold up a hand to get their attention. "We can't celebrate yet. They could just be retreating to regroup and come back as soon as we slacken our guard. They could be trying to draw us out of our secure position. Nowi, front liners, I want you here and on your guard until further notice. Most of the mages, too. I'll be having the archers keep watch from the rooftops to make sure the wyverns are gone as well. We haven't won yet. Worse yet, we have no word yet on Randall's location or condition. Until he's found, our job here isn't done."
A murmur breaks out over the Shepherds. It seems clear that in the panic of dealing with the ambush, his absence wasn't the first thing anyone noticed. If only they knew how important he is to the success of our group.
"And what of the village?" I hear behind me. I turn to see Lord Anchorage and his family have ventured out of their chamber to join us. While Lord Anchorage seems to be keeping his composure intact, it's clear that his wife and daughter are still terrified, their eyes constantly flitting about and looking for danger. "Surely we don't intend to just leave the inhabitants without defense," Lord Anchorage says.
"I'm sorry we couldn't do more for them before," I reply. "As you're aware, we were attacked without warning. We couldn't even leave the building safely."
He nods. "Of course, I understand. However, now that the assault on the manor has abated, I must insist we make liberating the village our first priority. Without the safety of our tenants guaranteed, we have no future here. We owe our villagers every bit of protection we can spare."
The door to the north tower opens, and Basilio emerges into the main hall. "Robin, open up the doors. Flavia's here with our guys."
Kellam and Stahl swing the doors open, and Flavia stumbles in, looking much worse for wear. Maribelle is quick to see to her wounds, while Libra, Miriel, and Anna get to work on the large group of Feroxi bleeding in the cold outside.
"Flavia, what's the news? We saw you coming from the east side of the property," Basilio says.
Through gritted teeth as the skin of her shoulders is closed back up, Flavia replies, "When we realized we were under attack from multiple directions, we knew the village was gonna be a prime target without much defense. Thankfully, the Plegians didn't quite know who they were picking a fight with in the forest. They burned a whole hell of a lot of trees down, hoping they could box us in with them and corner us. Little did they know that it was they who were trapped with us. Still, I shouldn't make too light of it. We lost a lot of good men and women in the forest.
"Even so, we knew the fight wasn't over yet. Those of us in fighting condition beelined for the village. Luckily, a few of our guys were out there drinking last night, so they knew the layout of the village pretty well. It seems like the village was a secondary target, as only maybe thirty or so of the Plegians had been sent out there. Still… we didn't exactly get there in a timely manner. Lots are dead down there too. Lots of buildings damaged. Crops burned. It'll be a long road to recovery, especially since this little incident has definitely put the estate on the map for the enemy."
"How many have died?" Lady Anchorage asks, her voice trembling.
"Among the villagers, roundabout ten to twelve, I think. As for the Feroxi losses, it'll be difficult to say until we can sift through the burned parts of the forest and get a formal body count. It's safe to call it 'a lot' for now," Flavia replies solemnly.
"Did any among the Feroxi see Randall anywhere in the fighting?" I ask.
"He was in the forest when the fighting first broke out, but last anyone saw him, he was trying to make his way to the manor. None of ours ever saw him after that point," Flavia replies.
Gods damnit, where did he go? I have to find him, right now.
"Alright, then here's the new plan. Flavia, take Panne, Tharja, Gregor, and Anna with you back to the village. Keep an eye on things there and make sure nothing else goes wrong. The rest of the Shepherds will stay here and be prepared in case the Plegians come back around. I want Virion and Gaius up top keeping an eye out for them. And Sumia, I want you in the sky, scouting the surrounding area for Randall and any straggling Feroxi or Plegians. Lastly, I want a small group heading out to search for Randall on the ground. Preferably two horses, four people. We'll head southwest along the road about half a night's ride, then return if we don't find anything."
Maribelle raises her hand gently. "I'd like to volunteer to look."
Stahl steps forward. "Me too. Fennec should be good to go."
Chrom takes a stiff step forward. "Let me come too. I want to find Randall." His jaw is set strangely firm on his face, as if he's trying to swallow an egg whole. Something's on his mind for sure, and he's just barely keeping it buried. I'm sure I'll hear about it in a bit.
I nod. "Alright. Basilio, I'm leaving it to you to keep watch over everything in the manor. If anything comes up, I'm counting on you."
If possible, he stands a little taller than he already does. "You got it, girl. Go find our lost boy."
Wow, my head hurts. Scratch that. My everything hurts. Why do I hurt so much? What was I doing? Everything is quite fuzzy.
Oh yeah. I remember lightning. Explains why my muscles feel like they've been torn off and haphazardly slapped back onto my body. Even my comparatively magic-proof body's got limits, and that sword sure as hell tested them.
That sword. Gangrel was holding it. I was fighting Gangrel. And I still feel it, which means I didn't die. Which means wherever I am, it's in the same run.
I try opening my eyes, and a mix of bright moonlight and powerful wind punishes them for my hubris. "Fuck me," I mutter. Am I riding something?
Yes. That's definitely wind blowing through my hair. Where am I going? Moreover, who's taking me wherever I'm going?
"Hey," I say. "Hey!" I say again when I don't get a response right away, but raising my voice makes the back of my head throb.
"Oh, awake, are you?" someone says behind me. "Pouch in front of you on the saddle, in the center, should be a little vial of concoction. You'll want that, I'm sure."
Very badly, yes. I squint my eyes open just enough to find the pouch he's talking about, and get the clasp open. Even the act of raising the little bottle to my lips hurts the hell out of my beyond-sore arm, but as the syrupy liquid slides down my throat and my body hungrily starts soaking it up before it even reaches my stomach, I feel the pain and fatigue fade mercifully quickly. It also clears my senses up pretty well and takes the annoying fuzzy feeling away. I realize I'm not just riding a horse, and that I can feel the flapping of wings carrying us up and down.
Oh. That's right.
"I got that right before, then? Vasto?" I ask over my shoulder.
"Ah, you bothered to learn my name. How magnanimous of you," he says dryly. "By the way. You're not just strapped to the saddle; you're also strapped to me. So before you think of anything fancy like throwing me off my wyvern and flying off on your own, you should know a couple things. First, obviously, if I go down, so do you. And second, Kinba here would never allow anyone but me behind the reins. So do yourself a favor and don't try anything stupid. You're not reaching the ground alive without me."
"Uh, yeah. So… how are you alive, dude? I saw you go over that cliff, and I also know you lost a couple limbs."
"Remembered that, did you? I really appreciate that, by the way. Getting by with one arm and one-and-a-half legs has been a real blast, I assure you. But as for how I survived, I have Kinba to thank for that. She wasn't able to stop me losing my limbs, but she did manage to get below me and soften my fall enough that it didn't quite kill me. I had a concoction in the saddle and managed to drink enough to stop the bleeding before I lost consciousness. Then it was just a matter of surviving long enough to get back to Plegia."
I try to give an impressed whistle, but the headwind kind of ruins that. "You might be a dickhead working for the wrong side, but that's impressive."
"Wrong side, my ass," he says.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did I offend your sensibilities by suggesting that working for a homicidal warmonger might make you a bit of a bad guy?" I ask incredulously.
"You're one to talk when it comes to homicidal, priest–"
"Not a priest."
"–but even then, you're wrong about that. I don't work for that madman. I work for the only cause worth a damn on this continent."
"Is that right? Is this your way of trying to get in good with the Shepherds?"
"Hah! The Shepherds aren't worth the sand in my boots either. They prop up a regime just as corrupt as the Plegian royal family. No, I work for General Mustafa. I suppose I must also include that Lord Aventine too, since he's a founding member, craven though I think he is."
"Oh good, you're with… wait, huh? Didn't you intend to kill Aventine?"
"Well I'll be damned. You really do know stuff that no one's supposed to know. Though you only knew half of it. I was planning to fake his death. It was a little something I came up with on the fly just in case any of the Shepherds got away after we were through with them. Better that they think he's dead than captured. Course, I never liked him, and he knew that. You must've spooked him into thinking I really did intend to just off him. So he scampered off and met up with that Grimleal priest instead. It's all the same, I guess."
"And Mustafa and Aventine are working together? To do what?"
"Well, I leave the particulars to them. Aventine could tell you better than I could. All I need to know is that we plan to topple both ruling structures in Plegia and Ylisse and replace them with something better. Finally rid ourselves of deep-rooted royal feuds that never have their origins in the common man, but always cost his life anyway."
I take a minute to let that soak in. A transnational conspiracy to oust both the Exalts and the Plegian royalty? Apparently spearheaded by Mustafa and Aventine, of all people? Neither of them much seems the type, honestly.
"Why are you telling me all this? What do you want with me?" I ask.
"Well, for starters, we need a healer. We send our guys on ops all the time lately, but when they come back hurt, we've only got vulnerary to keep them going. There's a lot Duke Osprey can get away with, but if we get too many shipments of vulnerary coming in, there'll be questions after a while. Second, we've needed a contact with inside knowledge on the Shepherds for a while now. You'll do nicely," Vasto says.
"An inside contact? What makes you think I want anything to do with helping you guys?" I demand.
"Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but what you want doesn't really matter. If it had been anyone but me who came down to intervene, you'd be heading off to Golgotha to get very painfully executed. The price for me saving your ass is that you come with me and help us," he replies. "In fact, you owe me double time. If you'd just held out a little longer, I might have had a shot to take down Gangrel without him noticing. I don't stand a chance if he knows where I am, but you had him distracted for a while. Instead I had to settle for making sure you didn't get killed."
"Well, thanks very much then, but I would have preferred getting killed, actually," I mutter.
"What's that?"
"Nothing. So I don't have a say in the matter?"
"Not unless you want me to drop you from Kinba's back and watch you plummet to the ground," he says nonchalantly.
Well, if it hadn't been for the save point getting moved when I woke up, that would've been nice too. Son of a bitch. It seems I have no choice but to go along with this for now.
"Well, where are we going, then?"
"We're headquartered at Duke Osprey's villa, now. Pretty nice place, actually, except for that we have to pretend to be occupied by Plegian forces whenever inspectors come around."
"Occupied? Where is this villa?"
"I'm surprised you don't know. Hadrian Osprey is the Duke of Themis."
We've been searching the thin woods south of the manor for about twenty minutes or so when Chrom finally speaks up.
"Robin, hold on. I have to give my thoughts on the situation," he blurts suddenly. Maribelle and Stahl both bring their horses to a halt, sensing that whatever he's got to say is worth pausing for. I hop off Fennec's back, and he off Fleur-de-lis'.
"What is it?" I ask, trying and probably failing to disguise my impatience. I don't like stopping the search for any reason.
"Isn't it obvious what's happened here? Randall has betrayed us!" he says.
"Milord!" Maribelle gasps from atop her mount. "What makes you say something so awful?"
He launches into his explanation, barely pausing to breathe. "Think about it, Robin. Randall insists we can't go to the Ferrieder barony, that Lord Aventine couldn't be trusted and that we'd be safer going farther off the beaten trail to Anchorage. He says it's the only way to secure our passage safely to the capital. But what happens instead? Not only are we ambushed by a massive force the one night we stay there, but if what Sumia and Cordelia reported is true, Gangrel himself was among their forces! He knew exactly where we were going to be, and Randall led us right into Gangrel's trap. Then, when the fighting begins, where is Randall? Apparently he's outside in the forest by himself, according to Flavia's men. Why was he out there, except to give the signal that they were clear to begin the attack? Then he disappears from their sight for a while, and the next time anyone sees him, he's fighting with Gangrel? But when Sumia and Cordelia are gone, we don't know what happened to either of those men. Was Randall killed? Maybe, but why isn't there a body? Why would they take only his body with them? Why was Gangrel never seen after that point? Because once the coast was clear, Gangrel led his inside contact to safety, and the two make a clean getaway. It's the only way all these pieces connect logically." He takes a deep breath when he's finished. "We're looking for a traitor."
Stahl and Maribelle sit in stunned silence. I too don't really know what to say. I ball up my fists at my side and stare at the grass for a moment. Even though Randall told me the truth about him not long ago, and that did fill in the gaps as to why he was so sure Aventine was a traitor, I can't deny that Chrom's version of events does sound plausible from his point of view. If I explained everything, that might help him see the truth, but to reveal Randall's secret would be an unforgivable breach of his trust. What can I say?
Maribelle shouts suddenly, "Milord, that simply isn't so! I refuse to believe that Randall would betray us. Your story sounds nice and neat, but I heard Cordelia's report as well. She saw Randall fighting not only Gangrel, but his men as well. She helped him defeat them. According to Khan Flavia's men's report, he was actively fleeing the Plegians while they lobbed spells and arrows at him. He wasn't being delivered safely into their care; he was fighting them! Unless you expect me to believe that he was merely fighting and killing them to put on a show for Cordelia's benefit when he couldn't have known she was even there, it's preposterous to suggest he is on their side." She finishes her rebuttal with an unrepentant "Hmph."
Leave it to Maribelle to step up when I couldn't see the forest for the trees. There was an explanation there all along without involving the full truth about Randall. I sigh in relief.
"Even so, how in the hell did Gangrel know where we were going to be? There's no way he could have just guessed we'd be in a place this remote! And where is Randall now?" Chrom fires back.
"I believe I have the answer to that," a voice from deeper in the woods says. A familiar voice, but from where…?
A person in blue strides out from behind a tree. Well, mostly in blue. For some reason, she appears to be wearing a Plegian fighter's helmet. It's too big for her, though, so it sort of hangs over her face and obscures most of it.
"Who are… Marth? Is that you?" Chrom asks.
"It is. I wish we could have met under better circumstances," she replies. Even though we know she's a woman, she seems intent on artificially deepening her voice around us for some reason.
"What are you doing here? Have you been following us?" Chrom asks.
"I have. As you stray further and further from the future that I sought to avert, I am less and less sure of where the current sequence of events is going. I find it better to remain nearby in case unforeseen events, such as what happened tonight, transpire without warning," she explains.
"Why didn't you tell us you were following us?"
"Because it is dangerous for us to associate too much. But on this occasion, I have grim news about Randall. As you may have realized by now, he has been captured by the enemy. I saw it myself, some hours ago."
I step forward. "You saw it? Where? When?"
"When the fighting broke out, I was not in a position to engage the enemy without endangering myself. However, when I saw an Ylissean pegasus go down in the field southeast of the manor, I did my best to make my way over and intervene to help the fallen rider. However, instead of a woman like I was expecting, by the time I got there, Randall was there, fighting King Gangrel in single combat. Though I ran to attempt to reach him, Gangrel quickly bested him, and a wyvern rider descended from the sky, knocked Randall out, and wasted no time lifting him off the battlefield and carrying him off to the south. I was unable to defeat the rider in time to save Randall, and as he was taken away, I still had Gangrel to contend with. Though I defeated him, another wyvern interrupted before I could deliver the final blow. Gangrel escaped, and I was unable to find where he went. I had no choice but to hunker down and wait for the fighting to pass."
A few seconds of stunned silence pass as we take her story in. The implications of this development are myriad and horrifying.
"So, Randall's been captured by the Plegians?" Chrom asks at last. "He wasn't working with them?"
Marth shakes her head, making the helmet flop around a bit. "No, not at all. They were trying to kill him until they decided to take him prisoner instead."
Maribelle starts crying quietly. Stahl reaches over a little awkwardly and pats her shoulder.
"And if he's been taken away on a wyvern, there's no way we can match that speed," I mutter.
"Indeed. Nothing matches the airspeed of a trained wyvern, I'm afraid," Marth replies solemnly.
My fist tightens at my side until I almost strain the muscles in my palm and the Brand of the Defile on my hand loses some of its color. This is the worst possible outcome. Not only have we lost one of our best healers and a mage with great potential, but we've also lost the tactical advantage of the respawning power. And we've also lost whatever advantage comes with knowing how the 'script' of this war's story should have been.
On top of that, we've lost… well, Randall. Not just the unit, but the person. My friend. My best friend. How am I supposed to do this without him?
I take a few steps away from the others and open my Elthunder tome. I tear the magic out of one of its pages and shriek as I use the lightning to blast a nearby tree into flaming wood chips. I turn to face the others as the tree burns behind me and impatiently wipe the few stubborn tears that have snuck out of my eyes off my face with my sleeve.
"We are going to get him back."
A/N: Hello and welcome back to ThreeDollarBratwurst Hates Writing Fight Scenes. I'll be your host.
But really, as difficult as they are to write, we've been due for these armies to clash for a while now, so I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations. Lots of hidden truths revealed this time around! Remember when I mentioned all the strings I'm super excited to finally get to pull? It's exactly as much fun as I hoped it would be. And there are still truths to be revealed!
As you know, I must give my thanks to Mixed Valence for his continued help with this story. Fight scenes are always a tough thing to gauge properly, because I know how the fight looks in my head, but getting that to the page and conveying it adequately is another matter entirely. Having a well-practiced pair of eyes scrutinizing my fights was a big help. In a similar vein, NotTheArchitect and Merc also have my thanks for their input on the chapter for the same reason. And here is your Mixed Valence out of context quote of the week: "I wasn't thinking torture, but okay."
By the way, I'd like to extend you all a formal invitation to join the FE fanfiction Discord server of which I am newly an admin. After a semi-hostile takeover of famed FE writer metallover's server, we have become an unholy triumvirate of benevolent virtual dictators known collectively as SI Smackdown 2019. I'll be putting the invite link up on my bio, and I'll also try putting it at the end of the notes here, but y'all know how FFN can get about link sharing. Come join us for sub-par memes and widely varied discussion and some insight on the daily inner thoughts of your humble auteurs.
As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!
And now, the Discord link: discord. gg /3mdunvc (remove spaces)
P.S. Aversa isn't canon.