Another day and another chapter. Sorry about the huge delay with this one, folks. I was struggling to decide where I wanted to take things from here. That, and I was also rather busy writing my other Fire Emblem story. I also have a question for you guys, my awesome readers.

What are you looking for in a story like this? Share your thoughts and let me know what you'd like to see. I've already had one person suggest Rolan and Edelgard become more involved. Crazy, right? We also have a new poll up. Which Black Eagle would you like to see leading the romantic race in this story, Dorothea or Petra? Cast your votes!

Anyway, lets begin. I'm sure you've all been waiting long enough!

Zealots (Black Eagles VIII)

For most of the night I've dwelled on our situation.

The Church of Seiros is kind and generous. They provide shelter for unfortunate souls without homes - they care for orphans and those who've been robbed of family. Young Cyril is a prime example - an urchin with nothing and nobody. Until Lady Rhea found him he was all alone in the world. The young lad does nothing but heap boundless praise upon the Church. He works tirelessly day after day in thanks for his second chance at life.

He's content with his simple but hardworking lot - happy, even.

And yet I can't scrub what Ferdinand said from my thoughts.

"I get it. You suspect the church."

The followers of Seiros can't possibly be misguided... can they?

For all of our sakes, I sure hope not.

Whatever the case, it's important I calm down and keep a level head. There's work to do.

Edelgard is still nowhere to be found.

The midnight hour has long since passed. We returned to the inn and spoke with Hubert and Ferdinand. While the two of them rented a room and turned in for the night, Dorothea insisted she keep searching - until dawn if that was what it took. Not wanting to leave her alone on a dark night such as this, I followed suit. For hours Dorothea and I have scoured Garreg Mach's township for any sign of Princess Edelgard. We've gone from home to home - tavern to tavern. We've spoken to dozens of people - from barmaids to retired soldiers. Nobody has seen any church knights or a missing noble. And so, we kept on.

Sadly, our journey into yet another smoke-filled drinking den brought little in the way of results.

Dorothea bids the patrons farewell from the doorway with a grateful bow. "Thank you anyway. Do enjoy your evenings."

The moon sits high in the sky as we exit the dirty venue. Pale lunar light provides some much-needed illumination to the murky backstreets as we continue our long-winded mission. Dorothea is worn out from talking so much. I stall for her sake - she needs to catch her breath, or I fear she'll fall over. I've mever seen her like this before. Her eyes are droopy and her clothes are creased - not to mention she reeks of smoke from the countless flea pits we've visited.

"We can pause if you like, love," I offer, patting her upon the shoulder. "There's no sense in burning yourself out."

"Not just yet. I can," she yawns. "...still keep going."

"Are you sure? Save some energy for our trek back to the inn. It wouldn't hurt to take a rest - get your bearings. I can wait."

"There's no need. I-I'm fine. Just a tiny bit tired - that's all. And besides..." Dorothea pats her face in a bid rouse herself. "...I can't stop - not while Edie's still out here somewhere."

"But you're exhausted, Dorothea. Even Hubert took a rest - Hubert."

"And I'll bet he's still worried sick. Look, Rolan... Would you give up if Hilda were the one missing?"

My stomach plunges at the thought.

I hang my head, well and truly bested. "Okay, you have a point..."

"Exactly." Dorothea makes a grab for my hand. Her sudden contact quickens my heartbeat. I gaze upward to find her staring at me with love - with vigor. "I appreciate your concern. But let's keep on going... just a little longer." I hear the strain in her voice. I see the emotion in her gaze. "If we don't find her before long we'll return to the inn - I promise. One more hour. If we have no luck... we'll get some sleep."

Adrestia's princess seems well-loved by her classmates, despite all I've heard from Petra.

Sighing, I put away my sword - so that we may continue walking hand-in-hand. "Edelgard means a lot to you, doesn't she?"

"Indeed she does," Dorothea replies with a glassy smile, linking her fingers with mine. "I suppose you could say-" She stalls, red-faced and nervous all of the sudden. "No - it's nothing. ...Forget I said anything."

"Doesn't sound like 'nothing'. What's the matter, dearest?" We continue ahead, down a sidestreet - mindful of anything out of the ordinary. It wouldn't be the first time tonight we've tangled with ruffians. "You know I'll always listen if you need me... It's the least I could do, after all you've done for me."

"Thanks, Rolan..." Dorothea smirks a sheepish smirk. "Okay, I'll share what's on my mind." She pauses, taking a sharp breath. "What would you say if I told you I like men and women? In truth... when I met Edie I kind of... had a tiny crush on her."

Dorothea's admission is a touch surprising, but nothing too wild.

"You're like my elder sister then," I answer with a chuckle. "She was the same. Don't fret; I'm not gonna take issue."

"Oh..." Dorothea's eyes widen. "Really?"

"I'm serious. Sis had a lady lover, before she married some washed up noble. Anna, she was called - a merchant girl. Pop was quite fond of her actually, even though my Ma was a touch old-fashioned about that sorta stuff." I smile warmly at the memory. "Made for some fun chats at the dinner table, I tell you."

Dorothea sighs with relief. Her expression brightens the smallest bit. "Glad to hear it," she grins. "Knowing that, I'm even fonder of your father."

Now there's a surprise. "You're okay with the Old Man?"

"Of course; he's lovely. You're lucky, Rolan. I would've treasured what you have, growing up with a father... and a mother..."

Talk of family has Dorothea looking gloomy. "Hey... Don't be sad." I lean close and peck her cheek. "Once we're wed, my family becomes yours too. I'm sure there's nothing Pop would like more than to welcome you into our home. Cheer up."

Her frown fades away. "You're right; I don't know what came over me." Dorothea kisses me back. "I have plenty to look forward to. Being a part of a family will be wonderful - almost as lovely as making my own, someday..." There's allure to her voice, "Someday..." Her cheeks glow a deep shade of pink.

I inch closer to kiss her again. "But of course..."

I'm cut off by the sound of a weapon being pulled from its scabbard. My passions cool - replaced by shiver of alertness.

The glint of polished steel resonate against the moonlight's shine. Something, or someone waits in the alleyway ahead of us.

Producing my sword, I step in front of Dorothea - intent on keeping her same from all harm.

A figure emerges from the darkness. A man - he's tall in stature and adorned in the hefty, well-polished plate mail of a Knight of Seiros. His hair is wavy and greyed, while his face is gaunt and pale. A scar trails from the left corner of his forehead past his milky coloured and sightless left eye.

He advances a step, a second, a third. "I saw the two of you asking questions in the pub - questions about Princess von Hresvelg." He takes his sword into both hands and frowns deeply, tightening his stare. "Turn back now," he warns. "You're interfering in business of the Western Church. This is the only chance I'll give. Heed it... if you know what's good for you."

"The Western Church?" I question. "Last I'd heard, Lady Rhea branded you lot as heathens against the teachings."

The knight bellows with laughter. He's unhinged; there's madness behind his eyes. "Fool! How little you know of our world. Rhea and her ilk cannot be trusted. She is not a true icon of Divine Lady Sothis - just as the Hresvelg brat is a danger to us all."

Dorothea scoffs. "Sounding a bit too zealous there, aren't we?" she rolls her eyes. "I'll take it you killed Edie's guards?"

"Be silent, child. You know nothing of what is truly afoot here. The Bergliez men were mere pawns to those of ill-intent... just as you are."

"Ill-intent? Says the zealot threatening students." Falling in at my side, Dorothea sparks up a fireball in her open palm. "Nope - I don't quite fancy backing down to the likes of you. You know we're searching, so you must have some clue about what's happened to Edie." She widens her palm, causing the flame within to roar white-hot - alive with ferocity. "So... how about you tell us where she is? I'd hate to burn you without a good reason."

The knight falls into a battle-ready position, the hilt of his zweihander blade gripped tightly. "You walk the path of a mindless serf, blind to the truth. But I shall awaken you... both of you. Come, my friends. Aid me against these nonbelievers."

A pair of chainmail clad spearmen step out from the darkness behind the Western Church Knight. Together, They stand guard over him, as though awaiting orders. "Aye, Sir Gregory. As you wish," one of them answers, twirling his spear in presentation.

"Shit," I curse in a whisper. "We're outnumbered..." A nervy jitter squeezes my stomach. I glance toward Dorothea, there's fury in her eyes. Meanwhile, I'm held in place with worry. I have to do the right thing here. I can't see her in danger. "Turn tail and retreat, darling," I speak in a low voice. "Return to the inn - wake Hubert and Ferdinand. Hurry - I'll keep these three busy while you go."

"Like heck I will," Dorothea refuses flat out. "I'm won't let you play the hero... This is serious; you'll be killed..."

"Got a better suggestion? Nobody will know what's happened here tonight if we don't emerge the victors... Dorothea, listen," I petition, with desperation to my voice. Every second I waste sees the spear wielding-soldiers advancing. "I'm not perfect, I know. But you have to trust in me. Let me do right by you."

"But I-"

"Please, sweetheart..."

She exhales painfully, "...Okay, but at least let me help first."

Dorothea shoves me aside and lobs her fireball with a powerful shout. The sphere of magical energy explodes in the face of a spearman. He crumples to the floor in a screaming heap, clutching his hands over his burning, steaming skin.

Having done her part, Dorothea steals a kiss of my lips and takes off running, "Don't die on me, Rolie!"

"I won't." I take up a defensive position to cover her escape. "Not a chance..."

The second spearman rushes me with a gruff shout. He thrusts his spear toward my chest. I sidestep and narrowly evade with a moment to spare. Sucking in a mouthful of air and heaving out, I move swiftly to counter attack. I use nimble footwork to duck around the point of the spear and take a wide swing of my steel sword. The edge of my weapon slices into my foe's lethand side. He crumbles to his knees in a sharp, painful shout. Wasting no time, I give him a blunt bash to the side of his head with my sword's hilt.

He falls to the floor with a clunk. A small puddle of red forms beneath his midsection.

Adrenaline courses through my body - it sustains me. I say a quiet prayer for my fallen foe.

Focused anew, I eye my final enemy. Gregory - The Western Church Knight.

His face twists with anger. "Heathen," he hisses through clenched, crooked teeth. "To fell Sothis' true faithful is unforgivable." With an empowered shout he charges - unrestrained. "I'll drag you before my comrades for this. You'll die beside your Adrestian princess!" He takes a mighty swing of his two-handed sword. "Goddess Sothis... grant me the will to fight in your exalted name!"

I leap back and evade, but my footing doesn't hold. Upon landing I trip over one of the felled spearmen, stumbling and hitting my back against the stone cobbles with a bone-jarring thump. Pain shoots through my lower back, reaching all the way to my shoulders. Yelling out, I drop my blade and suck in an agonizing breath. My vision skews as I attempt to rise. The first attempt fails. The second is successful - barely.

I grab my sword and prepare to fight - despite being hobbled by my fall.

By the time I'm ready, I'm cornered. Gregory is already upon me. He rams the hilt of his sword into my stomach, knocking the wind from my sails.

My legs wobble. My eyesight leaves me like a snuffed-out candle. Moment by moment my strength is failing.

Unable to go on any longer, I collapse to my knees and curl into a small, broken ball.

I'm haunted by the bellowing of Gregory's laughter. One by one, my senses unravel.

The last thing I hear him say fills me with dread - with regret.

"We'll make an example out of you, and the Adrestian witch..."

"D-Dorothea," I rasp. "Please... be safe." There's a horrible tinge of blood in my mouth. Holding my stomach, I spit red and crumple against the cobblestones. Blackness overtakes my vision. I can't move anymore. "Dammit all." Defeated, my consciousness fades. "D-Damn you, Gregory..."

To be continued...

There you have it. Another chapter comes to a close! Did you enjoy it? Would you like to see more in future? Feel free to leave some feedback and share your thoughts. As always, keep on supporting Fire Emblem and I'll see you in the next part. Thanks again.