Madelyn's Choice

By Becki

© Fire Emblem

All characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Reminder: I had uploaded 2 chapters this time, so if you have not read Chapter nine, please do so before reading this one. Thank you everybody and again, I'm so sorry for the delay!

Final Chapter: Fulfilled Prophecy

What guilt springs from pools of red..?

Axes flash, and cries stifle the air. Darkness roams, and the moon is hidden.

Why do the innocent cry out?

Ashes pollute the wind as the gentle gale flutters away. Away from the rivers of crimson and the bloodied metal. Eyes narrow as they force this scene away.

It is no crime to be weak, but for the desire to be weak.

Hands trembled on the hilt, fingers sticky and hot with the splash of scarlet. A shudder of pain escapes his lips.

What is.. true darkness..?

With a blurring vision, his eyes searched the camp. Helpless, hopeless, they closed, unable to see anymore. Focusing on his breathing, he took in the brittle, bitter scent. Squeezing his grip around the sword, he opened his eyes again, and hurried forward.

His whole frame quivered in pain. His arms were numb and a paroxysm of pure agony stabbed his veins. It was like a fire, coursing and burning, unmerciful to everything in its path. Though as great as the pain was, it was not life-threatening. But the situation was.

They were everywhere. Axe wielding men, bandits thirsty for killing and drunk off of the chaos of battle. Dirty deeds had won them the advantage.

But as crippled as he was, he would not die easily, for his skills were not so handicapped. A certain brigand targeted a mother and her child. She held her child so hard with silent tears falling from her face, the axe man raised his weapon for the killing stroke. But it was not his blow that did the killing. The sword's mark was quick and messy, but did the duty it was meant to do. The man fell down at his feet and the mother looked up to see her savior.

"Chieftain!" She whispered so soft. His head was dizzy and his hair fell into his eyes. He covered his face and regained his balance as he uttered an order to her.

"Hurry, run!" He said intensely. She bit her lip and got up, kissing her child's brow in a comforting embrace and ran. The chieftain turned around with his sword prepared.

The horses had been released from their pens. Another tactic that reduced the escape rate. However, there was a certain creme colored mare that had some loyalty left within her. The horse screamed shrilly and tore off from the stampede, tossing her graceful head about in the mess. She spotted the chieftain with his dripping sword, and seemed to recognize him immediately. Prancing over as if not knowing the dire situation, the mare pushed his shoulder with her nose.

As he placed a hand under her chin, he turned to see another sword-wielding figure beyond the torn tents and the lingering bodies. It was an older girl who stood with her hands on her knees, breathing deeply with perspiration streaming down her forehead. Her face was cut and bruised, her long lustrous emerald hair painted in crimson. He approached her instantly with what strength that was left in him, with the faithful mare following him.

"Fa-ather!" She gasped as she fell into his arms, her torn hands around his shoulders. He pulled her away to look at her face. Her eyes reflected fear and hatred, but most powerfully of all, fierce determination. They were eyes that were pooling and eventually spilled over her lashes, and he wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"Lyndis--" He turned away and coughed violently. Lyndis winced and covered her mouth with her palm upon seeing the status of her father.

"Father, you must have--" She began, but he silenced her. He took the mare by the bridle and pulled her gently forward. Taking his daughter by the waist, he hoisted her up on trembling arms to the saddle on the horse's back.

"Listen carefully, Lyndis, I have few words left. Remember us as the lost people of Sacae, and live. You must survive.. for the Lorca!" He slapped the flank of the mare just as Kasha had done so easily almost twenty years ago. The mare bolted away, with the rider holding her arms out desperately to him.

"No!" She shrieked, realizing the fate that her father had accepted. "No!" But he had already turned away his face.

And things seemed darker than they had. It would be a matter of moments before he was also found and felled by the blade. But there was one last thing left to do.

She was there. Alone and waiting for the darkness to engulf her also. Her loose brown hair was shining auburn, her face turned down, skin pale. She was not like the Sacaen plainspeople, despite their clothing she wore. Her skin was too light, her hair was too red. But she was the most beautiful thing he had seen.

His sword dropped to the ground. With neat composure she looked up at him, her teal, true eyes gazing at him with such frailty and passion. Without a word they found themselves in each others arms. Madelyn rested her head at the curve of his neck and Hassar kissed her brow. This was the end, and both of them knew it. This was the darkness the old fortune teller had foretold.

As the footsteps drew around them and the blades moved to strike them down, Madelyn closed her eyes and lifted her chin, speaking so softly.

"This is the choice I had made. If we must ride to death together... let it be so."