I wrote this fic after hearing the sad story of Reena Virk, a
murdered teen. This is her memory.
DISCALIMER: I do not own anyone or anything in this story, of Fire Emblem.
This takes place after Jaffar flees from Nergal, and has taken to saving people, instead of hunting them.
Crying and broken, Miera staggered down the dark back alley of Bern, desperately searching for a way to escape her pursuers, a group of young women her own age. She futilely attempted to stifle a yelp as she tripped up and collapsed to the ground, sobs racking her body. St. Elmine, please save me... I have done nothing to deserve this, She prayed silently. "Hey! I think she went this way!" came that horrible, high voice from down the alleyway. Another violent sob racked her body as she realized they had found her.
The evening had started out innocently enough. Three weeks ago, Miera had moved into Bern, excited and happy at the opportunity to make new friends. Fast friends were what she had thought she had found in Jain, that horrible, horrible women that now stood at the end of the back street. Miera had thought that Jain sincerely wanted to make friends, but that was just a twisted hoax. Miera had arrived at Jain's house earlier; thinking that they were going to go on a nice walk, perhaps meet some attractive boys in a tavern, but that had gone sour. Jain had taken her into a dark, derelict district of the vast city where, seemingly out of the shadows themselves, three short men had appeared. The four had beaten her savagely for no reason, and before they could finish the job, a sound had distracted them long enough for her to slip away.
Now Miera huddled in a dark corner, attempting vainly to hide from her assailants. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" asked Jain in a mocking tone, her face a mask of false curiosity.
"Wh-wh-what did I do? Why are you doing this?" Miera asked meekly.
"Because, dear Miera, I can. You are simply unfortunate. Wait until those at the academy here of this, eh Gerinn?" She bragged, her eyes widening in pleasure at the thought.
The three men started cackling madly, and Miera broke down crying again. Both sounds were cut short by a deep, emotionless voice, "I'm afraid that I cannot allow that to happen" said a very tall man with fiery red hair, stepping out of the shadows.
"Oh? And who are you to stop us?" Jain inquired in an arrogant tone, motioning for her companions to draw their weapons before drawing her own.
"Death," was the only reply as the man, faster than Jain's eyes could follow, slipped around Gerinn's raised shield and drove his palm into the man's nose, crushing it in a red spray, causing Gerinn to fall backward, clutching his broken face. The other two men advanced on the redhead, one armed with a flail, the other with two swords. The mace- wielder twirled his weapon above his head before swinging it as hard as he could at Miera's savior. Amazingly, the tall man fell into a roll, coming up inside the man's poorly aimed arc, driving a dagger no one saw him draw into his chest. The obviously experienced fighter spun away, launching his full offensive fury upon Jain's swordsman, snapping a dagger down at his face , while reaching his left hand into his cloak. The trained swordsman blocked the oncoming strike with both blades, his first and last mistake. The assassin's other dagger came flying from within his face, striking the swordsman below the jaw, the man driving the wickedly curved blade all the way into the swordsman's brain.
Jaffar let the man drop. He had been following this motley band of killers for some time now, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at them. Now was it. Apparently preparing to roll towards Jain, Jaffar pounced like a jungle cat at the last minute, taking Jain completely by surprise. Jaffar repeatedly buried his daggers into the woman's chest, puncturing both lungs various times. Just before the light faded from her eyes, Jaffar whispered one word into her ear: "Fool," Jain fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
The "Angel of Death" strode over to the fallen man, Gerinn and calmly imparted this threat to him in his low voice, "Turn yourself in, or I swear I shall hunt you down and murder you like you would have murdered her." And Gerinn believed every word of it.
As Jaffar watched the bleeding man depart, Miera quietly addressed him, "You have my thanks beyond words, kind soul."
Jaffars only response was an emotionless glare as he disappeared into the night.
DISCALIMER: I do not own anyone or anything in this story, of Fire Emblem.
This takes place after Jaffar flees from Nergal, and has taken to saving people, instead of hunting them.
Crying and broken, Miera staggered down the dark back alley of Bern, desperately searching for a way to escape her pursuers, a group of young women her own age. She futilely attempted to stifle a yelp as she tripped up and collapsed to the ground, sobs racking her body. St. Elmine, please save me... I have done nothing to deserve this, She prayed silently. "Hey! I think she went this way!" came that horrible, high voice from down the alleyway. Another violent sob racked her body as she realized they had found her.
The evening had started out innocently enough. Three weeks ago, Miera had moved into Bern, excited and happy at the opportunity to make new friends. Fast friends were what she had thought she had found in Jain, that horrible, horrible women that now stood at the end of the back street. Miera had thought that Jain sincerely wanted to make friends, but that was just a twisted hoax. Miera had arrived at Jain's house earlier; thinking that they were going to go on a nice walk, perhaps meet some attractive boys in a tavern, but that had gone sour. Jain had taken her into a dark, derelict district of the vast city where, seemingly out of the shadows themselves, three short men had appeared. The four had beaten her savagely for no reason, and before they could finish the job, a sound had distracted them long enough for her to slip away.
Now Miera huddled in a dark corner, attempting vainly to hide from her assailants. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" asked Jain in a mocking tone, her face a mask of false curiosity.
"Wh-wh-what did I do? Why are you doing this?" Miera asked meekly.
"Because, dear Miera, I can. You are simply unfortunate. Wait until those at the academy here of this, eh Gerinn?" She bragged, her eyes widening in pleasure at the thought.
The three men started cackling madly, and Miera broke down crying again. Both sounds were cut short by a deep, emotionless voice, "I'm afraid that I cannot allow that to happen" said a very tall man with fiery red hair, stepping out of the shadows.
"Oh? And who are you to stop us?" Jain inquired in an arrogant tone, motioning for her companions to draw their weapons before drawing her own.
"Death," was the only reply as the man, faster than Jain's eyes could follow, slipped around Gerinn's raised shield and drove his palm into the man's nose, crushing it in a red spray, causing Gerinn to fall backward, clutching his broken face. The other two men advanced on the redhead, one armed with a flail, the other with two swords. The mace- wielder twirled his weapon above his head before swinging it as hard as he could at Miera's savior. Amazingly, the tall man fell into a roll, coming up inside the man's poorly aimed arc, driving a dagger no one saw him draw into his chest. The obviously experienced fighter spun away, launching his full offensive fury upon Jain's swordsman, snapping a dagger down at his face , while reaching his left hand into his cloak. The trained swordsman blocked the oncoming strike with both blades, his first and last mistake. The assassin's other dagger came flying from within his face, striking the swordsman below the jaw, the man driving the wickedly curved blade all the way into the swordsman's brain.
Jaffar let the man drop. He had been following this motley band of killers for some time now, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at them. Now was it. Apparently preparing to roll towards Jain, Jaffar pounced like a jungle cat at the last minute, taking Jain completely by surprise. Jaffar repeatedly buried his daggers into the woman's chest, puncturing both lungs various times. Just before the light faded from her eyes, Jaffar whispered one word into her ear: "Fool," Jain fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
The "Angel of Death" strode over to the fallen man, Gerinn and calmly imparted this threat to him in his low voice, "Turn yourself in, or I swear I shall hunt you down and murder you like you would have murdered her." And Gerinn believed every word of it.
As Jaffar watched the bleeding man depart, Miera quietly addressed him, "You have my thanks beyond words, kind soul."
Jaffars only response was an emotionless glare as he disappeared into the night.