I do not own Fire Emblem or Harry Potter. Fire Emblem belongs to Nintendo and Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. All song lines belong to their original singers. I own all original characters and the plotline.

Chapter III:

Credenza

. . . We are one, the moon and sun, it's so magical, you'll see . . .
-'So Magical' by ATC

Ron felt numb for a minute, watching as Rebecca furiously shake the viridian-clad young man, as though force might somehow bring him back to life. He turned to see Ginny and his mother hurrying down the hill. He hadn't realized Ginny had left his side and felt glad for a moment that his mother was here. Mrs. Weasley's wand was clutched tightly in her left hand and her lavender dressing gown was whipping around her slipper-clad feet.

"Great heavens above, what happened to him?" wheezed Mrs. Weasley, kneeling down by Sain and taking his head gently in her own. The plump witch didn't seem to care at the moment how five people – four of whom had lethal looking weapons – had wandered onto her property, her attention completely focused on the pale cadaver below her.

"He drowned ma'am," said Rebecca in a monotone, then her eyes filled with more tears and she buried her face in the green scarf tied around her waist. The other man was marble pale, his fists clenched and looked almost on the verge of tears as well, looking in a sort of disbelieving horror at his friend's body. It was the sort of look Harry had had after the Triwizard Tournament and Cedric's death.

Mrs. Weasley gripped his other wrist and checked her watch. She breathed in deep relief and turned back to the hysterical Rebecca. "There's barely a pulse, but your friend's still alive." The swordsman's face brightened instantly and Rebecca's glistening eyes had hope in them once more. The hope quickly left though.

"But I just checked his neck and . . ."

"It's faint, but it's there." Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at his chest and spoke the name of the spell quickly. "Ennervate."

Sain's eyes – with gray-brown irises and bloodshot sclera – opened with rapid blinks, he turned over and coughed, spitting out a ton of water onto the ground. It really did seem like he had almost drowned, which was odd considering there wasn't any big lake or river near the Burrow. Breathing heavily, he sat up and looked at everyone with mild confusion. "Why Rebecca!" he said suddenly, his voice childish despite his age, "Why do you have such a sad look on your beautiful face?"

The red haired swordsman sighed in relaxation and smiled, kneeling down to his friend into a brotherly hug. Sain blinked rapidly, though Ron couldn't tell if it was from his stinging eyes or surprise. "Kent?" he asked slowly as though scared.

"You idiot, don't ever do that again!" bellowed Rebecca, anger written on her face as she hit him on the back of the head, "Do you know how WORRIED I was?"

Sain looked around, found Ginny's skinny form and got to his feet, clutching her hands in his. His face was still pale but split into a delighted smile. Ginny blinked in puzzlement and Sain spoke quickly. For somebody who had been so close "Fair maiden! Your beauty is unmatched by any I have ever seen before . . ."

"Get your mitts of my sister!" snapped Ron, only to deceive a death glare from both his mother and his sister.

"Sorry miss," said Kent with a sigh, pulling his friend away from Ginny and giving him a sharp glare. Sain merely gave an innocent grin. "Thank you very much for helping him ma'am," he said with a regal tone to Mrs. Weasley, bowing his head, "We're in your dept."

"Oh it's no trouble," said Mrs. Weasley, "But if I may ask, how did you end up like that? There isn't any major source of water for miles. And . . . who exactly are you?"

The two men exchanged glares as Rebecca shook awake the other two unconscious people, both of whom were male. One – another archer with auburn hair – was about as water drenched as Sain, and the shorter one had a deep cut along his right arm. He was clutching two items in his right hand, a thick leather tome with a reddish-brown cover and a long golden staff with a ruby orb perched atop it, items that made Ginny stiffen in remembrance of what muggles thought of witches and wizards. Both, when conscious, stared around in confusion, the male archer coughing up water as well.

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat, bringing their attention back to her. "Your names, please?" she asked as kindly as she could.

"I'm Kent and this is my partner Sain. We're Lycian Knights."

"Rebecca of Pherae," said the green-haired girl kindly. Ron noticed her eyes were still red and bloodshot from her crying spell.

The auburn haired archer stood, pushing his dripping bangs away from his dark brown eyes. He was clearly confused by the arrangements, but took one look at Rebecca and answered his name in a cheery voice still with slight childhood innocence and an odd accent that was shared by the other four. "I'm, uh, Wil. Nice to meet you?"

The violet haired young man, who was clad in brandy and deep indigo robes, stood and looked from each of the three Weasleys and to the tome slipping from his hand. He seemed relived by the book's presence, more then the staff. "I'm called Erk," he said politely, his voice different from the others'. It had a lighter accent, a more formal tone to it and a knowledgeable edge that Hermione's took during study sessions in the library.

Mrs. Weasley chewed her bottom lip for a minute and smiled, slipping her wand in the pocket of her dressing gown. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Molly Weasley and these are Ron and Ginny, my son and daughter." Both Weasley children smiled, though it was only out of manners. Ron seemed taken aback by their sudden arrival and Sain's revival, Ginny slightly embarrassed by Sain's flirtatious compliments. They nodded their heads in respect and the Weasley matron smiled again. "How about some food? It's just in time for breakfast."

Back in the kitchen, now filled with early morning sunshine, Erk ran a hand across the leather bound albums on the kitchen shelf as Mrs. Weasley bustled about with her wand, cooking for the eight in her kitchen. He seemed particular interested in her wand, his violet eyes following her left hand everywhere it went. It was slightly unnerving. "Do you focus all your magic through that little wand?" he asked, interested, thumbing through the tome inattentively.

Mrs. Weasley looked at the yew wand, pale blush of embarrassment entering her cheeks and turned to him. Her eyes were frightened, from the fear she had just disclosed the secrets of the Wizarding world to a muggle. "Yes. Aren't . . . are you a wizard? That spell book of yours looks like anything else on that shelf." Erk looked lazily at the leather book in his hand.

"I'm a Sage ma'am, so I suppose I might be a wizard."

The red haired woman frowned darkly, looking intently at the Eturian's thin face and pale skin. "Aren't you a little young?" She, of course, was thinking of the Wizarding sages, like Albus Dumbledore and Merlin, and though the boy may have looked the part – draped in richly tailored robes and clutching an exquisite staff and spell book – he did not fit her personal description.

He blinked, arching an eyebrow. "Begging your pardon ma'am, I am considered by my mentor a Sage."

She frowned again, turning back to the cooking eggs upon the stovetop. "How about your friends? They're wizards, right?" She looked to where Ron was playing chess with Kent in the living room, the others surrounding the two players.

He shook his head slowly. She gave him a scandalized look, wondering if the Ministry was going to come in at any moment to strip her of her wand and magic. "They're muggles?" she said worriedly, throwing another glance towards the living room.

"What's a 'muggle'?"

"Never mind, they know about magic right?" He nodded slowly again and she breathed in relief, returning to her cooking. "No harm done," she said to herself.

Rebecca was sitting cross-legged on the couch next to Wil, looking nervous and not focusing on how Ron was losing poorly at the one game he was considered the champion at. "So, um, where are we exactly miss?" she asked to Ginny, who was trying not to giggle at her brother's incompetence. The witch turned towards the Pherean girl, tucking a lock of her copper hair behind her ear.

"Well, the question really is where you're from, since we haven't had any knights in England for a long time. At least, not knights who carried swords or lances . . ." Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to finish accurately.

Sain and Kent exchanged looks, identical surprise on their faces. Wil conked an eyebrow up, looking very funny as he did so. He had picked up the habit from Nils, using it mainly if something really bothered or confused him. "That's . . . really strange. What country is this?"

"England," said Ron slowly, enunciating the word to unnecessary levels. Ginny would have hit him on any other occasion.

"Impossible," put in Erk from the kitchen, making Ron and Ginny jump. The others were already used to the Sage's surprising interjections into conversation. "There's no country on Elibe called England. No providence either."

"There's other continents, book worm," said Rebecca dryly. It was an insult she often used, she herself being near illiterate. Ron sniggered, causing both his mother and Erk to give him death glares, Erk's irises tinged with his fire magic.

"Umm . . ." said Ginny softly, breaking the silence that followed Rebecca's words and catching everyone's attention, "This isn't making much sense. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be able to sort this out."

"Who's this professor?" asked Sain, lifting up Kent's queen and examining the scratched female figure with the peeling white paint. Ron had decided to play muggle chess instead of wizards, wanting to beat Hermione at her own game. All three Weasleys shot Sain a nervous look. He blinked, setting down the chess figure slowly. "Did I say something wrong?" he said meekly, making his fellow knight roll his eyes.

"No," said Mrs. Weasley with a cheery smile, "For now, enjoy some breakfast. There's plenty of food, come help yourself."

Lyn moaned in agony, clutching the side of her head as her mind swirled in nausea and illness. The back of her head ached horribly from where it had collided with the wall, the coppery taste of blood largely pleasant in her mouth. Wrapped around her forehead were linen wrappings, proving her injury was worse then previously expected. Someone shook her roughly and she heard Hector's hard voice speak loudly, only making her face split into a grimace of pain. "Don't ever scare me like that, you Sacean!"

She opened her eyes to stare into Hector's blurry, yet angry face. Her grimace split into a smile as she pushed herself up, ignoring the ache of pain lingering in her body. "You need to loosen up a little," she said, jerking out of his reach though her dark green eyes glittered in mirth.

"Are you okay milady?" It was Nils. Lyn looked around the room she was in, frowning at its unfamiliar-ness. They (being herself, Hector, Eliwood and the two ruby-eyed siblings) were in a small room that looked as though it belonged to a Mage, judging from how those in their army kept their belongings. A very untidy Mage, and that was certainly saying something. Large piles of books and blank parchment surrounded the bed and desk, a large trunk at the foot of the bed she was laying upon and a odd looking items were present on the bedside table. A black haired boy Lyn had never seen before was sitting at a desk, looking tired and writing something on parchment with his chin on the edge of the table. Her voice conveyed her confusion and made the strange boy jump, his skin going paler then its already albino-like color. "Where are we?"

"We don't know milady," said Eliwood with a sigh. Lyn's eyes flickered immediately to his burnt neck and chin, his wrapped right arm and drenched clothing. From the way his fire-red hair was pressed against his head, it made him look like a drowned animal. "We were worried, you wouldn't wake -"

Ninian's voice was cut off as the sound of something tapping on the wet window panes caught their attention. The black haired boy looked up and opened the window, letting in drops of rain and a very wet, snow-white owl. The boy (Lyn would set him about thirteen or fourteen) untied the wet envelope attached to its talon and shook the parchment to rid it of excess moisture.

"Messenger bird?" she asked innocently, watching as the owl ruffled its white feathers and began to prune her left wing.

"Yeah," he ripped open the envelope and scanned the letter quickly, his brow furrowing. "Hey, do you know anyone by these names? Guy, Matthew, Serra, Raven or Priscilla?" Lyn's eyes narrowed, the boy's odd accent reaching her attention for the first time. She had never heard any accent like it; even Ninian and Nils' strange dialect was unlike this boy's.

"Yeah, they're more of our companions. Who sent the letter?" said Eliwood, surprised and relieved at the same time. It was an interesting combination.

"My friend Hermione sent this. She says she found them unconscious in her yard and they've been asking for you three. Or at least, the two conscious ones are . . ." The boy left the ominous words hanging, bringing a bit of annoyance to her ears.

"Where does your friend live?" asked Ninian, pulling what looked like Eliwood's cape closer towards her.

"I dunno. Hang on." From a pile on his desk, he pulled an unopened letter and read it quickly with widening emerald eyes. The boy's eyes were interesting, slanted and cat-like with such vibrant bright green irises it was unnerving. The irises, however, were darkened with something, perhaps sorrow or grief or anger. Those eyes were near captivating, mysterious and haunting, like the ruby orbs of Ninian and Nils. The boy continued, jerking Lyn back into reality. "But you'll probably find out. Tonks and Professor Lupin - they're two, err, friends of mine- are coming today."

"Why?" Eliwood asked suspiciously, wincing as he sharply turned his head towards the boy.

"They're taking me to London. That's the capital of the country. So, looks like you're getting your questions answered soon." There was a sort of sarcastic pleasure in his voice.

Someone rapped hard on the bedroom door, making everyone in the room jump and turn. A man's harsh voice spoke on the other side of the door, a voice of the unpleasant sort. "Boy! Who in God's name are you talking about in there!"

He paled considerably, his face a sickly sort of whitish-gray color. "My uncle," he mumbled as a sort of explanation.

Lyn knew not to ask, just to be kind and respectful towards his privacy. She sat still on his bed as he walked to the door and pulled it open enough for her to get a glimpse of a very fat man with a bushy moustache and purple face. "I'm talking to myself," he said in a monotone, making her look at the boy again in shock. His voice was so empty, so cold, especially for somebody so young.

"Freak!" barked the man and he walked away. The boy shut the door and walked back to his desk as though the activity had been as simple as saying hello to a peasant.

"That's your uncle?" asked Ninian softly, a little surprise in her voice, "Unpleasant isn't he?"

The boy snorted in black laughter, his eyes narrowing as he looked to the ceiling. "That doesn't begin to describe him . . ." he trailed off at the end, turning to the white owl and stroking her wings. Lyn watched him for a minute, and then turned towards Eliwood with a raised eyebrow. The Pherean lord merely shook his wet head and mouthed 'later'.

A scream echoed from downstairs, a woman's, and on instinct her hand flickered towards the Mani Katti. The boy smiled darkly and stood, walking swiftly towards the door again. He had an odd sort of walk, sort of quick yet slouchy. "Looks like my friends are here. You guys just stay here, I guess."

As soon as he was out of the room and shut the door with a snap, Nils turned to Lyn. He was dripping wet as well, though seemingly unaffected by the cold. "What do you think, milady?" he asked softly, "About Harry?"

Lyn smiled slightly and stood, ignoring the sharp glare from Hector. "How many times do I have to tell you? Please, just call me Lyn or Lyndis."

"Okay then, what do you think Lyn?" asked Eliwood with a small smile.

Lyn swallowed another bit of blood that had gathered in her mouth. "Well, I've been out cold this whole time. So, I take it that Sonia sent us somewhere and this kid found us."

Hector nodded, his expression darkening. "Yeah. Get this though. The kid's never heard of Ostia OR Caelin and threatened us with a wooden stick." He gave a snort of mirthless laughter.

She frowned, finding no humor in the situation. "Well, there are other continents in the world. That's what Sonia could have meant, couldn't it? 'I'll erase you from Elibe.' For all we know, we could be on the otherside of the world." The theory didn't seem to sit too well with her companions. It didn't comfort her either, but it seemed to be the only logical idea so far.

"But why would she just send us to another continent?" asked Ninian, taking the seat Harry had recently abandoned, "It might take a while, but we could just take a ship back to Elibe." The Sacean's olive eyes turned to leather book clutched in the dancer's hands.

"What's the tome?"

Surprise flickered across both sibling's faces and Ninian thumbed the book open to the center. "It's . . . some sort of tome with transmutation magic. Shapeshifting of humans and animals . . ." Lyn's eyes widened and the two Lycian lords turned to the dancer, Hector grabbing the book and flicking through the pages.

"Amazing . . . But if Nergal or Sonia got their hands on this kind of magic –" Hector's musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. It opened to reveal a man who, despite a young age, had graying brown hair. His prematurely lined face was sickly pale, like Harry's, his wolf-gray eyes flecked with amber and gentle. Ninian and Nils seemed to recoil slightly at the man, though for reasons Lyn didn't understand. "So, you're the ones Harry told us about." His voice was tired and aged, yet kind.

Eliwood stood, extending a hand and bowing his head in respect. "Pleased to meet you sir. I'm Eliwood of Pherae."

"Remus Lupin." He shook the hand, "So, you're a bit lost, aren't you? Can you tell me a little about where you're from, since Harry really, erm, hasn't given enough information to go on?" There was something about the way Lupin had slipped his hands into the pockets of his onyx robes that made Lyn believe there was a dagger or weapon inside.

"The country Lycia," said Eliwood simply. When Lupin looked puzzled, the Pherean fencer went on with slight desperation. "On Elibe? The continent?"

Comprehension finally seemed to dawn on Lupin and Lyn gave a mental sigh of relief. "As in, the continent with the Scouring war 1,000 years ago?"

Lyn nodded and Ninian replied, twirling her magical rings. "It was actually 980 years ago . . ."

Lupin didn't seem to hear her but spoke back to Eliwood, weariness back in his voice. "You'll need to talk to Dumbledore." From the way the man's name was spoken, Lyn's mind flickered back to the image of Archsage Athos.

"Who's that?" asked Hector bluntly. Lupin gave a small smile. "He's a very powerful and wise man. He'll be able to explain this."

"Do you know what may have happened to our companions?" asked Hector suddenly, "We were with about thirty other people." The number seemed to shock Lupin and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I wouldn't know."

"So, for all we know, Sonia could have only sent us?" said Nils softly and his sister looked at him rather sadly.

"That can't be right. Knowing what she would do, we could be the only ones still . . ."

"Please don't finish that sentence Ninian."

End Chapter III: Credenza

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