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Disclaimer: If I owned Fire Emblem, I wouldn't be typing up a fic, would I?

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Act I

Part II

Chapter 4: The Ride of Ryoku

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The sound of hooves beating upon the earth like a crazed war dance was heard in the distance as Ryoku and his horse Lope finally reached the fortress of his lord, Lord Alex. The trail of dirt finally turned into cobblestones as Ryoku the Cavalier finally reached the edges of the still sleeping village.

Unfortunately for Ryoku, his horse stopped without warning for no reason. The Cavalier flew through the air screaming like a banshee. He landed, fortunately, rear first on the cobblestones in sitting position.

"If you hadn't tossed me all those times, I would be feeding you fresh oats with sugar mixed in!" the PO'd Cavalier screamed as he slowly got up. Wincing, he made sure the Steel Sword he had with him was still secured onto his belt.

"Halt! Who goes there?" A member of the guard called out. Ryoku found himself staring down the length of an immensely long Javelin.

Ryoku ducked down and rolled aside and drew his Steel Sword. The owner of the Javelin threw it at the Cavalier and he rolled aside once more. The Cavalier then heard the rasp of a sword being drawn and Ryoku quickly backed off to where he can see his foe in the dim light of dawn. Leaping up, Ryoku struck down upon the helm of his opponent and dealt it a harsh blow with the pommel of his sword, causing the helm to ring like a bell. The guard dropped his sword and shield.

"Parley!" the guard yelled through the ringing of metal. "I claim parley!" Ryoku immediately knocked off the helm, revealing a messy mat of blond hair above green eyes.

"Uh, shouldn't we be saving the combat training for another time?" said the Cavalier. Sheathing his sword, Ryoku looked at his newly defeated foe and he quickly pulled his opponent into a Hug of Death.

"Urk! Who's that!" the castle guard cried in desperation to break free of Ryoku's terrible grasp. "Help!"

"Calm down, Vahn!" said Ryoku as he finally let go of his buddy. "I can't believe you gave me such welcome. Surely living old friends are much better than a dead friend."

Ryoku's newly recognized comrade staggered upright and squinted at him. Vahn then picked up his Javelin and stuck it pole first into the ground so that he won't have to search for it later. Then, the guard picked up his Iron Sword and returned it to its sheath. The cumbersome shield remained on the ground.

"Oh, it's you," said Vahn as he began to wipe some dirt off of his blue armor. "Didn't know you were sent here. Last I heard, they said that you were posted at the Shrine."

"Was," replied Ryoku. "We got attacked during the night."

"Isn't it still night?" Vahn gestured at the dawn sky. "I just got the luck of drawing the shortest straw."

"You should tell me that tale but right now, I need to see Lord Alex," Ryoku quickly brushed aside Vahn's little vignette. "It's urgent and should be only heard of his lordship's own ears."

"And what happened?" said Vahn as he looked up from polishing his armor. Ryoku raised his Steel Sword before Vahn's nose.

"It's none of your business, friend. Just lead me to Lord Alex. Now!"

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Lord Alex rolled off of his bed, fitfully and tired. Sitting up from the carpeted floor, he strectched and sighed. Alex cannot believe that his dreams tonight were severely unusual. One had most particularly startled him and caused him to roll off. Closing his blue eyes, the new young Lord of Canto relived the visions he had seen.

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'Fly, my friends, fly!' screamed a woman in a high pitch. 'They've got axes! Fly!'

'Take all of them!' a low growl came from the recesses of Alex's mind. 'Spare no prisoners! We must save them for the offerings.'

'Milord Alex! Please help us! Please!" that woman's voice cried out at him with intensity. 'Please milord! Help us!'

'He ain't gonna help you, slut!' that low male voice came again. 'You just shut your mouth and do as you're told, bitch!' A stinging slap was then heard.

'Milord! Help us!' That woman's voice continued to scream.

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Alex shook his head. There's got to be a reason why these visions, dreams, or nightmares are haunting him. Yes, there has to be a reason. Racking his well-trained brains, Alex sank into deep thought as he sat into a velvet cushioned chair.

"There's been reports of strange beings flitting through the shadows at night, stealing people away. But there's must be a logical way of why," said Alex as he spoke his thoughts to the empty chamber. "More and more of my people are calling out to me. But who is that woman? Can she be an admirer?"

"Lord Alex!" said the muffled voice of his advisor, Alec the Shaman. "A Cavalier from the Shrine has come. He bears, er, news."

"Let him in." The door swung open and Ryoku stepped into the chamber, saluting his lord. Then the Cavalier kneeled and bowed his head.

"Hail Lord Alex, Lord of Canto," Ryoku recited from memory. "May your reign of this land be prosperous and fruitful."

"Peace, my friend," said Alex as he got up and helped Ryoku up. "You should reserve this crap for formal ceremonies like at court."

"I'm flattered but, milord, I am a knight, not an equal to you. You know the laws of our country as well as I do." Ryoku kept his head bowed as he said this.

"Ah, you're still stubborn about protocol aren't you? Oh well, what's the report?"

"Sir, the Shrine has been, well, totally destroyed."

"Destroyed?" Disbelief was in Alex's voice. "How can that be?"

"I don't know sir," said Ryoku as he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not a practicioner of magic but I was sure magic wielded by that person was at least the level of a sage if not better. If my training reminds me, the spell that struck us was Bolting."

"Bolting..." Alex mused as he paced the room. Looking up, he called at the door. "Alec! I say, Alec the Shaman!" Swift footsteps were heard and a pair of spectacles poked through the door.

"You called, milord?" the Shaman blinked owlishly at his leader. "I was in the middle of reading a wonderful book on the magical properties of Dragons from the Scouring. It's such a fascinating---"

"Save it for another time, my friend," Alex cut right in. "Tell me, are you not the Mage General of Etruria's friend?"

"Not exactly, I'm only Master Erk's pupil-"

"That's just fine. Tell me, the spell Bolting. Is it not mainly wielded by Anima Sages?"

"Yes, but under certain circumstances, other practicioners of other magics can also wield this power. Bolting is just a juiced up version of the advanced Thunder spell yet it is very inaccurate and unwieldy. The most times I've seen a Bolting tome last was at the very most five. Of course, the Legendary Archsage Athos has been known to use this spell up to TEN times! And so, blah de blah, de blah de blah, blah blah---" The Shaman continued to blabber about the properties and strength of Bolting.

"What are we going to do, milord?" Ryoku whispered to Alex. "All my comrades are dead and I only have a faint idea where the blazes the culprits may be."

"Just give me a sec," Alex then faced his advisor. "Say, Alec, weren't you interrupted earlier by me?" The Shaman was caught off guard and was confused.

"I wouldn't say interrupt, milord, but yes you did. Is there something wrong, milord?"

"Well, you were reading a tome about the Scouring right?"

"Milord has an excellent memory. Indeed I was! Shall I excuse myself, milord? What shall I do about this Cavalier?"

"There will be arrangements made, Alec, I'll do it all myself."

"As you command, milord." The Shaman's feet made quick contact with the ground and both the Lord and Cavalier heard the slamming of a door after several seconds.

"That should keep him out of our hair," said Alex as he gathered several items into a knapsack. "Help me with my armor, Ryoku."

"As you command, milord."

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Vahn leaned heavily upon his Javelin as the sun rose slowly. The helm on his head covered his eyes, protecting them from the invasive rays of the sun. The drowsy breeze dove through Vahn's armor and the blue armored Cavalier was startled awake by the cold wind. His Javelin fell down on the flagstones of the pathway, next to the gate. He ignored it and leaned against the walls, chewing his lip in an unsatisfied fashion.

(Why did I end up with this shift?) he thought as a piece of skin fell off. (I put more hours into sentry duty and I barely get any recognition. Stupid commanders. It's always, raise your spear, mount your horse, dismount, lower your spear, charge, and drill and drill and drill all day long. Where's the glory in that? I just wanna go on an adventure with some friends and kill some ugly bastards.) Looking about, Vahn remembered something he had hidden earlier. Digging behind a bush, the Cavalier pulled out a pack of supplies for a journey and gave a low whistle.

(I hope that horse of mine gets here quick!) Vahn's wishes were answered as his roan stallion clip-clopped its way toward him. The hooves made an commotion on the cobblestones but there's still a chance that no one's around to hear the ruckus.

"Good job, Faris, good job!" Vahn whispered to his horse as he mounted it. Lifting his Javelin, the wayward Cavalier urged his horse toward the nearby forest to begin his new journey.

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"I must say, this is an novel idea, milord," Ryoku commented as he followed Alex down to the stables. "Stealing off with a spare horse, riding it and searching after those bastards who destroyed the Shrine of Seals, I'll wager that you'll equal those Lycian nobles who defeated Nergal!"

"SH! Not so loud! The household is not entirely asleep, Ryoku!" Alex hissed as they snuck around a corner. "Remember, swift and silent. Be one with the shadows."

Both the Lord and Social Knight had already reached three-quarters of the way to the stables. Several sleepy stable hands were seen walking toward them but both were quite sure that they were able to pinch a horse and get going. Of course, who's fault will it be if they both get themselves captured?

"LORD AAALLLLLEEEEEEEEEXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!!!!!!" A loud male's screech was heard as a window slammed open. A entire flock of pigeons immediately flew upwards at the intensity of the dissonance. The once sleepy stablehands snapped awake and looked at each other in utter confusion.

"Did you hear that?" Ryoku said to Alex in a low whisper.

"We're in trouble..." Alex muttered as castle guards quickly surrounded them with an furious Alec at the lead.

"And just what does the young Lord of Canto is thinking of doing?" Alec then snatched the pack off of Alex's back. "Is this a travel sack I spy? Is this all your idea, milord? Or is it the Cavalier's?" The Shaman was turning into darker shades of angry purple. He was literally hopping mad.

"Sir, it was-" Ryoku tried to talk over the bubbling mad Shaman. But Alex knew what to do.

"Alec! It was my fault!" Alex yelled in his advisor's face. "It was all my idea and it's all my fault!"

A hushed silence billowed and covered all of the people in the courtyard.

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"The Blade of Honor, exactly twelve feet ten inches in length from hilt to point, made of an alloy of steel and silver, made in the Nabata Desert by Archsage Athos during his stay at Arcadia. Roughly about 300 years old. Last wielded by Lord Claimh of Araphen."

Stephen the Swordmaster of Araphen, looked up from his tome. Entitled "The Legacy of Lycian Swords", Stephen thought it was apt for the sword he carries to go by the same name his ancestor, Lord Claimh of Altea, had once wielded.

Stephen of Araphen, nephew of the late Marquess of Araphen, was entirely different than his uncle. Whereas his uncle was prideful and biased, Stephen was humble and impartial. He still has a tendency to blow a fuse over a minor matter, still like his uncle, but he can suppress the tension of his rage for a much longer rate.

His father became the Marquess after his uncle "disappeared" many years ago when the name of the Black Fang still struck fear into the hearts of many brave individuals. For the last ten years, all was quiet. Ever since the Lycian noble, Roy of Pherae, had defeated King Zephiel, peace had reigned the continent of Elibe.

But several weeks ago, messengers and spies reported that a strange cloaked person was appearing and disappearing with three equally strange people. These strange shadowy figures had raided, strangely enough, the libraries of Lycia. What was even stranger was that only few specific books were taken.

Shutting the book, the Swordmaster ran his hands through his shoulder length hair. Twisting and messing with the ends, Stephen began to agree with his mother's naggings about his hair.

'Get it cut!' she had once yelled. 'Imagine the number of women that would like you if you just kept it short! Look at your father! His is still short and I'm still competing against the ladies of the court!'

Smiling, Stephen sat up and leaned against the desk with his right arm. There's been a significantly larger number of women who appreciate sharing beds with him ever since he'd kept his hair long. Maybe he should grow it into a ponytail.

(Nah,) the Swordmaster thought as he stood up. (Then the women might think I'm one of them and ask me strange questions like 'what's your breast size' or 'who's your lover'. Women are strange creatures...)

As he stood up, Stephen picked up his "Blade of Honor" and strapped it across his back. Unlike most conventional Swordmasters, Stephen preferred to keep his sword on his back rather like a Hero. Besides, it made more sense for one to run fast with a sword clanging on your back rather than banging against your knees.

When he finally finished tieing the knots across his chest, the Swordmaster of Araphen looked out the window. He was immediately greeted by the warm glow of the sun and the soft gentle breezes that caresses the land of Lycia. Looking downwards, Stephen saw the courtyard was in a bustle.

"Hand it over, you cur!" a castle guard demanded as he waved his sword at the invader. "Let it go and we'll go easy on you!"

"Never!" a cloaked and hunched person croaked. "I've spent years and years to gain this power and now I have to hand it over?! Not in a lifetime!"

"Then prepare to die, fool!" The guards then yelled and charged forward. They then struck with their swords and spears but the strange arrival dodged them all.

"Have a taste of this!" the new arrival then shed his cloak and stood upright. "Power of the lands, heed my call, summon your strength to help me stand tall!" His hands quickly formed ancient runic symbols. Then he bellowed out a single word.

"Stun!"

A great bolt of electricity leapt forth from his hands and immediately struck all of the guards like a chain. The closest guard took the brunt of the blow on his shield and collapsed on the ground. The second suffered the same damage with a lesser effect but he also collapsed onto the earth. The third was unfortunate enough to be relatively close to the second fellow and took almost the same damage as his companion but he managed to stand upright. The rest of the energy managed to transfer itself through all of the guards, paralyzing them.

The mage went next to the lead guard and gently prodded him with his foot. The guard gave an almost inaudible moan of misery.

"You alright?" he said to the fallen guard.

"Soma!" Stephen yelled as he waved his arms at the mage. "I say Soma the Mage!"

Soma looked up and waved at Stephen. "How goes the studies of the future Lord of Araphen?" called the mage. A fallen guard member gave a groan and Soma's demeanor swung from cheerful to concerned.

"Okay, maybe that spell was a tad too strong. Heart still beating?" The guard nodded and groaned again. "Maybe we should just splash some Pure Water on you fellows again. Your resistance to magic is still weak." The Mage continued to nag and help the guards up.

Stephen smiled and pulled out a long length of rope that he kept stashed under the windowsill. Tying it to one of the great pillars of stone in the room, he tossed the rest out. Pulling on leather gloves to protect his hands, Stephen rappeled down onto the ground.

"Yeeeee-ha!!!" the young Swordmaster yelled as he zoomed down at an insanely rapid speed. A bit of smoke was coming up where his gloves met with the rope. If he wasn't wearing gloves, his hand would've been redder than the flame of "Forblaze".

Soma's eyes grew as the young lordling landed neatly without as much as disturbing the dirt below his boot as he mad contact with the earth. The young Mage rubbed the side of his temple.

"Why am I always stuck with this idiot..." Soma muttered as Stephen pulled out his sword and did a couple of fancy sword moves that Soma never seen of.

Stephen became lost in a strange mental trance. His happy demeanor faded away and his face became blank. Closing his blue eyes, the Swordmaster proceeded into his pre-combat warm-up session. As he started to do his routine, his mind yelled out commands.

'Raise your sword so that it is parallel to the ground with both elbows tucked to your right. With your blade crossing diagonally from his right shoulder to your left, lunge forward and slash downwards.

'Follow up by pulling your weapon back to the right with a another slash. Transfer your sword from your right hand to your left and spin it. Grab the hilt with both hands and jump upwards at your foe. Slash downwards and stab forwards.

'Return into blocking position with your sword grasped near your hip, the blade angling to your left shoulder at an angle. Your Lord of Anger stance is complete.'

Stephen continued to do excercise after excercise, sweating and enjoying the warms rays of the sun beating down on his back. As the crowd of awakening guards continued to watch him, a strange feeling crawled up the length of Stephen's spine. As he continued to do his stances without stopping, he heard a guard scream out.

"We're under attack! It's HIM!" All the guards quickly mobilized and grabbed their various weapons. They rushed to the ramparts to defend their positions. A dark laughter came from outside, modified to where it boomed.

"What is going on?" demanded Stephen. "Soma, what is this madness?" A powerful fireball flew through the air and struck the castle ramparts, knocking stone masonry aside.

"How should I know? That force just arrived here moments ago! That magical energy I sense is at least stronger than the power of the legendary Archsage Athos!" the Mage yelled as another equally forceful ball of fire soared through the air and smashed into three dithering guards. Their bodies were immolated by the blast and in no time only their charred corpses remained.

"Let's get going!" Stephen ordered as he ran toward the castle gates. Soma followed him, his cloak streaming out behind him. Several guards saw this and also followed them.

Fire continued to rain upon them and the maniacal laughter outside was growing more and more mad. One particularly large one landed near Soma but the Mage deflected it with his own brand of Anima Magic. The Mage pulled out his "Thunder" tome and shot a bolt of electricity knocking the heated mass away. The fireball flew off into the sky and it fizzled out.

Stephen dodged several fireballs that were in his way but one got to close to him. It exploded when it met the earth and the Swordmaster could feel the heat licking the air about him as he shut his eyes. But what stunned him was that he wasn't being burned to crisp. He opened one eye and found that his sword, the Blade of Honor, was sucking up the magical energies like a leech on an piece of flesh.

The normally silver shaded blade was now somewhere between gold and crimson, just like the color of the Sacaen sunsets. But unlike the gentle sunsets, Stephen could feel the heat of the spell being swallowed by the blade. The blade continued to drain the magical energies of the spell, reducing it to a mere memory of a spell. Once the spell was completely gone, the Blade of Honor remained golden-red. Stephen gingerly lifted it before him and could sense the heat of spell energy against it. He then tried to put a hand against it another's hand smacked his hand away. Angry, Stephen raised his sword and struck downwards at the person who knocked his hand aside. He missed in his rage and his sword fell out of his grasp.

"Stephen!" Soma yelled in his face as another "Fire" spell fell into the far end of the courtyard. "What's wrong with you? There's a seige at hand and we must hurry to the battlements!"

"I'll be there in my own time, Soma," Stephen replied angrily as he picked up his sword. "Just go ahead and deal with that accursed magic wielder. I'll take several men and strike from behind them."

"What about your father and mother?" Soma asked as Stephen walked away.

Stephen stopped and bowed his head. As he turned around and looked Soma in the eye he said, "Just tell them nothing. It's high time I faced danger in its eyes. Go to the battlements along with the rest of the castle mages. All of you should be enough to block those fireballs that our foe is hurling at us." Soma nodded his head and ran off with his cape flowing behind him.

Stephen waved his still golden-red sword, rallying several men-in-arms to him. Most of the castle guards were armed with spears and axes but one particularly tall fellow had an immense sword. Stephen singled him out.

"Drake," Stephen said to his fellow warrior. "You're an Myrmidon, right?" The tall fellow nodded his head.

"Right you are, milord. What is it that you intend to have me do, your grace?"

"Here's the plan," Stephen then started to scratch a design of the castle and its surroundings onto the earth. All of the fighters leaned down and carefully studied the diagram.

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w00t! This is finally finished! Took me a whole stinkin' month to get this done!