This is a giftfic for R Amythest. She sent me FE6, and I was happy happy happy! (smile) I had this idea going for awhile, but. . . uh. . . yeah. . . never wrote it until now. . .
This story contains a few implied pairings, and all of them are shonen-ai (meaning they're both guys). I don't know why I'm saying this, because by now you should know already, but. . . if you came here looking for the kiddy Disney romance, where they're both different genders, at least sixteen, and always have love at first sight, please get away from here and never come back.
. . . Have you noticed that little kids in Disney stories (under age sixteen. . .) that would have fell in love with each other always become 'good friends'? (snort) Sorry. . . just an odd fact that annoys the heck out of me. . .
Oh, yeah, and this takes place sometime during Chapter 25- Pale Flower of Darkness, for those of you who remember chapters by name. The chapter with all the snow, for those of you who remember chapter by content. The chapter they hear about the assassination plan of Prince Zephiel, for those of you who remember chapter by storyline. There- got it now?
Don't own Fire Emblem. . . for the thousandth time. . . actually, this is only for the twelfth time, but. . . nevermind. . .
Enjoy.
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Purest of All
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Once upon a time, there were two boys, who have been good friends since childhood.
"Raymond! Raymond! Look at these flowers I found? Aren't they pretty? They're for you!"
"That's nice. Now run along. I need to practice my sword spins if I want to help father cut those logs."
"Okay. . . wait! You don't need to learn sword spins to cut logs!"
They grew up to be kind, mature, and masculine men.
"Lucius, what have I told you about spending more than an hour combing your hair?"
"But, Raymond, yesterday's practice was rather tough. My hair is full of knots."
"I don't care. If you don't stop brushing your hair, I won't let you eat dinner."
"Whaaat? Raaaaymoooond, you're so meeeeeaaaan!"
They became separated for a period of time, and they were both very reluctant to say their farewells.
"Lucius. . . Go look for your own job. Train by yourself. You're starting to get in my way."
"What! I can take care of myself fine! You just come in and save me anyway!"
"Lucius! What are you talking about? Always you get yourself hurt, and you do not even realize it! What will I do the day you lay in your deathbed, without a clue as to how you got there?"
"If you really think I'm that incapable, then I'm leaving you! I'll train myself!"
"Okay! Good! Go ahead!"
"Fine! Good riddance!"
But they later found each other again, and their meeting was without trouble as they happily embraced each other in happiness.
"What? How in the seven hells did you get here?"
"I would ask you the same. Here I am working for milady Lyndis and YOU show up and ask the direction for Ostia! What on Earth were you think- KYAAAAA!!!"
"Lucius! No! Argh! Let go of me! What! Lock me in a dungeon, will you? Hey! Don't throw me in! I need to find Ostia! Hey! Don't shove me- !"
"Raymond! Get your arms off me!"
"I didn't put my arms around you! They threw me here! Let me out! I need to fight!"
"F- fight? Wait! You're going to get yourself killed! I won't let you!"
Aren't they such wonderful friends?
From there, they met up with an army of mercenaries and joined to further their training. This is their story.
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Every night, the young monk, Lucius, would take his master, Lord Raven, outside to look at the beautiful stars. Every night, Raven would grumble and say that he needed his rest to be ready to fight the next morning, but Lucius would insist and by ten minutes both would be having the time of their lives.
"Lord Raven! Look up at those stars! You can barely see them, but if you look hard enough, they look like a sword!"
The red-haired swordsman looked up at where his blond companion was pointing, and noticed that they did indeed form the look of a sword. He nodded to show that he understood.
Lucius sighed happily and rested his head against his lord's right shoulder. "Did I ever tell you about what I always thought stars were?"
Raven looked over at the monk, questioning. What in the world? ". . . No, I don't believe you ever did."
"Well," Lucius looked up at the mysterious sparkling lights. "Every night, I look up at the sky, and I see millions of souls. Souls of people who died with pure hearts." He flicked some hair behind his back and looked to Raven. "People who died without the need of vengeance."
"Is that so?" Raven looked up at the stars, suddenly full of a new meaning. "There must be many people who die with pure hearts."
"Not really." Bright blue eyes were directed back to the sky. "If you think about it, the human race has existed for a long time. Existed since God sent us here to lead the Earth. That's a very, very long time to collect pure souls. If every soul of each person were here, then nighttime would be as bright as day, wouldn't you agree?"
Raven thought about it. It did make sense, sort of. "I suppose," he answered, nodding.
Lucius smiled again, as he was almost always smiling. "I also think. . . the brighter the star is, the more pure the soul is. As if God wanted everyone else to notice them more than the others."
Raven decided to tease his friend a little. "So which star to you think is the purest?"
Lucius looked into the sky, trying to decide which had the greatest source of light. "I don't know, it's hard to say." He thought about it, arms crossed, then his bright smile returned. "Let's ask them."
Raven blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
"This is something I did while I worked in the castle. . . before I found you again." The monk stood up, brushing bits of grass of his robe as he did so, and brought his hands to his mouth.
"O, spirits of the sky I call;
Who is the purest of you all?"
Raven smiled, a rare act for him. Sometimes, his friend was just so childish.
And so they went on, every night, for many, many nights, calling out to the stars, and asking them which was the purest. Sometimes, jokes were made, with the young monk pointing up and saying, "That one!" followed by the still younger swordman, pointing to an even brighter star to prove his friend wrong.
But, they still had to fight, for they were in a mercenary army. And then came the day when they realized that happiness seldom lasts for eternity.
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The snow was unbearably cold. It caused the entire group to move slowly, and everyone glanced up at the cloudy, sunless sky, each hoping that the weather would grow warmer and that the snow would stop.
Finally, as if St. Elimine had woken up and found the mountain of prayers in her mailbox, the snow stopped, and they were able to move about at a more normal pace; the only downside being the increase of speed for the enemies as well, and the flap of wyvern wings were heard everywhere, scaring the devil out of paranoid Heath.
"My fingers grow stiff, my skills decreasing." It was a new party member, an odd swordman that craved battle and bloodshed. Though the words were stated oddly, everyone agreed and moved their frozen fingers- again.
Suddenly, the entire band of wyvern riders came pouring in, catching the group off guard. Many were able to defend themselves, but for others, it wasn't their lucky day.
"My Iron Sword won't do anything! I really wish I had my Rapier back."
"This Longsword is too heavy! I am more used to the feel of Mani Katti in my hand. . ."
"Blasted wyverns! Die already, will you?"
"Ouch! That hurt!"
"Oooh, this is so annoying!"
"Hurt Serra, won't you? I dare you."
"Blast! Matthew! Give me back my Killing Edge!"
"Wil, your bow is breaking. Here, you can use mine."
"More tea, Heath?"
"Legault! Hyperion is in a fit, trying to throw me off, I've been hit by a poison lance, and you're asking me for more tea? Now hand over that Antitoxin before I turn my confused wyvern on you!"
". . . Bleed. . ."
. . . And so it went on. Until someone eventually did not dodge fast enough to avoid the incoming silver lance from the wyvern lord, seemingly the leader of the horde.
"LUCIUS!!"
The battle seem to stop as the cry echoed through the air, and time seem to stop.
-----
The newly upgraded hero had been asking for it. He had taunted the wyvern lord, killing off half the group of wyvern riders and then shaking a finger in the wyvern lord's direction, a taunting challenge.
He had expected the heavily armored beast to come charging toward him, and meet its doom. Instead, it flew directly past, and attacked the bishop who had been busy healing the hero's reckless wounds.
"LUCIUS!!"
The wyvern lord's beast smashed a paw against the doomed bishop, and the wyvern lord pulled the silver lance out of the smashed ribs. As soon as the wyvern lord flew away cowardly (for the hero had let him escape), a red-haired man knelt down by the dying bishop.
"Lucius. . ."
Mentioned blonde opened his eyes as far as they would go, which wasn't very far. He coughed out blood, but still managed to smile. Cheerful fool didn't even know he was. . . dying. . .
"Lord Raymond. . ." A trembling had reached up and stroked the redhead's tear-strained face, as the two simple words were couched out in difficulty and suffering. "May your world. . . be bathed in light. . ."
"No. . ."
As Raven held Lucius' hand desperately, the coughing died down, and the angelic sky blue eyes closed. . . for the last time.
And as Raven pulled his childhood friend in a desperate and awkward embrace that was not of happiness, but of the most dreadful and tragic despair the corpse started disappearing. In astonishment, the hero reluctantly let go and placed Lucius back down into the snow to see what was happening.
The body lifted into the sky, blood disappearing, robes fully mended in the most professional way, angelic blond hair flying everywhere. And as the hero watched, tears dried up on his cheeks, his childhood friend became a ball of light and disappeared into the sky.
The battle resumed, and Raven tossed passed his sword to the bloodthirsty one, who seemed to like collecting swords, and ran into battle, hoping to die. A gloved hand grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him onto a horse, and he met the disapproving eyes of his sister.
"What were you thinking. . .?" She asked shyly, but sternly.
Raven looked to the side, and refused to take hold of the sword that Priscilla tried to give to him. ". . . Trying to die."
"Why would you want to die?" the gentle beauty traced her fingers over his minor wounds, and they sealed magically. "Raymond. . . killing yourself won't bring him back." She looked sad as well as she forced herself to say the next words. "Nothing will. He is gone. . . forever."
-----
That night, Raven walked out of his tent and sat himself down in the grass field. There had been another battle. . . the band had gone to save Prince Zephiel from an assassination. The brat probably might have grown up to be a fearsome ruler who wanted to resurrect dragons to rule the world. Unlikely, yes, but it did seem like the thing that would happen to princes their own fathers wanted to assassinate. Besides. . . nobody had cared when Lucius had his life taken away from him. Why would a spoiled brat of a prince deserve their attention. . . their pity?
He lay down and gazed up at the stars, something he and his good friend had done what seemed like a very long time ago. His currently emotionless eyes swept the dark sky, until he was almost blinded.
He blinked and squinted until his eyes adjusted to the unexpected light. It was coming from a single star, just above his head. It shone so brightly, Raven believed it would have outshone the sun easily, and wondered how he and Lucius hadn't seen it before.
"Each star contains the purest souls of the dead. . ."
The voice came back to him, and he wiped away a tear that had started to come back.
"The brighter the star, the purer the soul."
"Lucius. . . that must be you."
Then he smiled, remembering the silly rhyme the Lucius had invented, and said it aloud more to himself than to the sky.
"O, spirits of the sky I call;
Who is the purest of you all?"
He had remembered the phrase by heart, having recited it every night for so long. He shivered. They were still in a rather cold region, for they were not all that far from the snowy area that the Black Fang alliance had hidden their stronghold, and the hero had forgotten his cloak. Normally this would not have been a problem, as Lucius would have simply brought it out for him and draped it around his shoulders, but Lucius was no longer around to help him with these things.
It might have been a hallucination from the cold, but he could have sworn he heard a group of voices, seemingly from the heavens, call back to him.
"We answer quickly to your callFor Lucius is easily purest of all."
The hero closed his eyes.
-----
The next morning, two figures carrying bows, one leading a horse behind him, came by the field. One of them wouldn't stop talking- the other said absolutely nothing at all.
"Is it really hard? I mean, what if the horse just speeds off without you, or if it kicks you off and trots all over you? What if it rears back and I fall off? How in the world can you even stay on without holding onto it, let alone get a good enough balance and grip to shoot an arrow? It's just incredible, I don't know how you do it. . . but I hop you're a good enough teacher to be able to teach me! I mean, I would really love to be able to shoot arrows horseback, if you know what I mean? Then I wouldn't lag behind the rest of the group anymore, and- "
The talkative archer stopped talking as his companion held out a hand to halt his pace. "Stop."
"What? Why?"
The quiet one bent down and picked up a person who had been lying on the grass in front of the other's feet, and looked at the face. ". . . It's. . . Raven."
"Raven? You mean that red- haired man who's always grumpy and looks angry? Ooh, he's scary, I remember one time when I looked at him, and I told him not to be angry, but he said that he normally looked angry! Isn't that odd? I wonder how that Raven person is now, I mean I haven't seen him all night last night, and- "
Once again the quiet one interrupted him. ". . . He's dead."
The talking stopped when the two simple words registered. "Wait, he's. . . dead?"
The hero was placed on the back of the horse, and the talkative archer put a hand on the wrist, withdrawing it quickly. "Oh! He's frozen! How. . . did he stay here all night or something?"
". . . Wil. . . did you say he always looked angry?"
"Yes, why?"
"Because. . . he doesn't."
"What do you mean he doesn't? He always looks angry!"
"No. . . look at his face. He's smiling. . . he must have died seeing something he truly longed to see."
". . ."
And indeed there was, for the word hanging on his last breath was said in complete happiness and content.
". . . Lucius. . ."
And so, the two boys, who had grown up together to become powerful fighters, both died, happily ever after.
The End.
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Sniff! I have run out of things to say. . . the storybook feel. How do y'alls like it? I really should be getting to my other story now. . . ugh. . . before everyone forgets the plot again. . . it's late. . . sleepy. . .
Eh. . . please review. . .? Please?
