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 V:
Cambi Nell'apparenza
. . . I know you hear me, I can taste it in your tears . . .
-'My Last Breath' by Evanescence
Guy of Sacae eyed the female in front of him very nervously, his dark green eyes lingering especially on the heavy bat clasped in her right hand. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, her blue eyes were flashing in mistrust and anger while her facial features were not of any ethnic group he had ever seen, though that wasn't saying much. She was dressed like a boy in dark trousers and a short-sleeved tunic made from thin material, one hand clasped a baseball bat and the other around a long, thin piece of wood about a foot in length. He already sustained a nasty bruise from her bat and if there was one thing he knew from traveling with Serra and Priscilla, it was to never anger a woman, even if you could easily beat them in combat.
He did think their situation could have been made much easier if Raven just put away his sword and dropped his scowl. The mercenary had dark blood stained on his hairline and right cheek, his eyes slightly unfocused and a purple-blue bruise was forming on his cheek where Sonia had kicked him. The girl kept nervously glaring at the young man's sword and she tightened her hold on both her would-be weapons.
"This is no way to treat a lady!" whined Serra, the only one out of the small group with Guy to be unscathed from the battle with Sonia, "Surely you know that I am a member of Ostian nobility and as of a higher rank then you in society, I demand that you stop threatening my vassals and I!" Behind her, Matthew made a face at the very thought of serving Serra.
The girl ignored Serra, much to the priestess's distaste, and turned back towards Guy with her small wand pointed between his eyes like one would brandish a knife. "Okay, I know your names, now," she said coolly with an accent extremely unique, "How did you get into my backyard?" No matter how many times any of them answered with 'I don't know', the girl would only swing her bat again.
"Would you believe us if we said a witch –" Guy ignored Matthew's fake cough as he corrected Guy with the equivalent to a female dog "- Sent us here?"
"That would depend. Is this witch named Bellatrix?" The girl's voice was icy as she spoke the name, which Guy thought was a pretty nice name.
"No, it's Sonia," said Priscilla meekly, keeping close to her steed's unconscious form. Her red-brown hair was also mattered with blood from where she had hit her head, though she was better off then Raven in terms of injury.
The girl's brow furrowed and she shot a nervous look at Raven's sword again, which was kept in a firm grasp about a foot and a half from his torso. "I'd feel a lot better if you but that thing away," she said sourly, gesturing towards the sword
The Mercenary narrowed his red-brown eyes and, as a mocking gesture, extended it towards the girl's neck. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and she flickered her wand quickly through the air, her voice high and scared as she spoke a unique incantation. "Accio sword!"
The blade flew from his hands and, following the girl's wand, landed about seven feet away from them, as she had done with the rest of their weapons. The small pile was rather pitiful to look at. Raven swore horribly, balling his hands into tight fists and the girl gave a bit of a nasty smirk. "I know more, dangerous spells, so calm down or I'll be forced to use them." There was a very cocky edge to her voice
Serra's eyes widened in excitement and her voice was high and ecstatic. "Wow! That was so cool! What kind of magic was that, Anima? I hope not. Is it Light? If it is, then I could use it against Erk!" She leaned in closer to the girl, one eyebrow raised in an overly curious manner. The girl looked vaguely disturbed and leaned away from Serra.
" . . . Never mind. Now, who's this Sonia? Is she a Death Eater?" There was an even more disturbed, dark tone in her voice suggesting severe hatred.
"As good as," snarled Matthew and Guy shot him a look with a raised eyebrow, wondering what he meant.
"We're not sure what she is, truthfully," said Guy, knowing how stupid he sounded. He really wished she'd put the bat down. "Some kind of soul sucking, heartless witch though."
"That's being very nice about it," said Matthew sourly, and his hazel eyes were on her wand. Guy could almost picture his thoughts, and the list of prices people would pay for that that ran through his thoughts.
"Now, where are you from? I've established the fact your not here by accident," she spoke darkly, "And please don't give any utter nonsense."
Guy again nervously looked at her wand before speaking in a surprisingly calm voice. "Well I'm from Sacae, Serra, Matthew and Raven are from Lycia and Lady Priscilla here is from Eturia."
Her face went slack for a moment, then eager surprise was spread wide across her face and a glistening edge entered her blue eyes. "Wait, hang on a second, did you say Sacae?" she asked, eyes alight, "As in, Hanon of Sacae and . . . and Roland of Lycia?"
"Yes," answered Matthew slowly, one eyebrow raised as it often was when he was about to say some smartass remark.
The girl blushed furiously and threw aside her bat, giving a very hurried bow of respect. Guy was sure he was not the only one who was confused. "You're not joking then! I'm so sorry that I, err, hit you. I've had bad experiences."
"Miss," said Priscilla softly, comprehension dawning on her face, "Is this . . . is this Earth?" Raven shot her a confused look for a minute, a grimace of pain flickering on his face from moving his neck too quickly, but he too seemed to get what Priscilla said. Guy felt as though he were being kept out of some sort of big secret.
"Yes!" said the girl energetically, nodding her head up and down furiously.
"Wait, wait, WAIT! What is going on, I don't like being left out!" whined Serra, turning towards Raven and Priscilla with very angry, narrowed blue eyes. Matthew had abandoned his bemused expression and turned towards the girl, speaking very coolly. "I'd rather like to know what's going on as well." Guy nodded his head in agreement.
"Well, back before the Scouring, there was trading between Elibe and a country called England," began Priscilla, trying to keep her voice calm and collective, "This is the part that's the most exciting. It's in an alternate world from where Elibe is, in a world called Earth."
Guy frowned, remembering the legend his mother used to tell him back in Sacae. When a person perished, their soul was reborn in another world to repent for past sins and eventually move towards heaven and eternal peace. He had always simply dismissed the tale as simply that; a story used to ease the pain of his father's death. But hearing Priscilla's words, his thoughts drifted away from the girl and onto the recent deaths concerning the army of Eliwood of Pherae.
'I don't know the time differences between Earth and Elibe, but if it's like that, then Ephidel may be . . . Or Lord Elbert could be alive . . .' Guy then turned to Matthew, who was giving the girl a look with raised eyebrows and a disbelieving expression. The swordsman was remembering a magenta haired woman, found dead on the shores of Valor, whom Matthew had mourned for nearly a month in secret. She had been Leila, according to Serra, a very dear friend of Matthew's, perhaps even his lover. If the legend of the cycle of reincarnation was true, it might be possible that the thief could again see his beloved's face and eyes alive again.
"I've got to send a letter to Professor Dumbledore, he'll want to hear this!" she was babbling on about something, several sections of her speech falling on deaf ears as Guy pondered about the Sacean legends and stories of ancient times.
Almost as though Matthew had read Guy's train of thought, the Ostian spy whispered in very hopeful, yet still doubtful, tones, "You don't think that maybe, maybe Leila . . .? That maybe that rebirth legend thing is true?" Guy did doubt the factual evidence of the legend, but he couldn't really tell his friend that any chance was impossible. Instead, he chewed his tongue a minute and spoke soft and slow.
"I wouldn't get my hopes up. If it the time frame is the same, she'd only be a month old here." Matthew's face fell faster then a rock in water and he rubbed a steel ring he always wore around his pointer finger.
"What are you talking about?" asked Serra, turning sharply towards Guy and Matthew. The blue-eyed girl stopped her rambling for a minute to listen as well, tucking her wand into the waste band of her trousers.
"Sacean legend mentions something about this world, 'Earth', concerning the cycle of reincarnation," said Guy before Matthew could stop him. The thief glared sharp daggers into his friend's angular face and adjusted the collar of his crimson cloak.
"Rebirth cycle?" asked the girl, and this time her words were laced with slight fear and edge. Raven, seeing she was distracted for a minute, hurriedly picked up his sword and slipped it into his scabbard with a dark smile.
"Yes. My mother used to tell me a story when I was little. If someone died, they would be reborn on this world to repent and prosper again."
Her eyes widened and her coloring turned quickly pallid. She seemed at a loss for words for a minute, her body slack with apparent shock and horror. "Oh God, Sirius . . ." she hissed, "Oh no, oh no . . ."
"Who?" asked Serra interestedly, watching as the girl paced for a while with her head in her hands. Priscilla was watching the girl as well, clearly confused and concerned for her well-being and sanity. The girl was mumbling fast to herself, the words slurred in some places and jumbled together in others. At Serra's words, she looked up with still widened eyes.
"My . . . my best friend's godfather died a few weeks ago. He's blaming himself and . . . and he's really ill because of it. Won't eat or sleep or anything . . ."
"Maybe I could help," put in Priscilla kindly, standing with her staff drawn tightly to her chest, "Both Sister Serra and myself are healers."
"Yep! Hey, is your friend good looking?" asked Serra randomly, catching Guy off guard for a minute before a scowl crossed his face.
She shot Serra a bit of a disgusted look and the priestess took a step backwards, shrugging her shoulders casually. "Just asking."
"But if what you say is true, and there's a time difference . . . If you ever meet my friend, never mention this story. Ever." There was such seriousness in her voice, back by a hard threat, that Guy wished he had never mentioned that stupid story.
"You know, for looking like you, she doesn't act similar to you at all."
Countess Louise of Reglay sighed and looked at her silver-haired husband with a bit of a pained expression in her almond-shaped eyes. The couple, along with three of their fellow soldiers in service to Lord Eliwood and Lady Alexandria Mark (who preferred the alias Firefly) were in the dungeon of some sort of elaborate marble-made mansion, and their weapons had been confiscated while they were unconscious. Both Pent's and Canas' magic had no effect on the bars of their cell, in fact it rebounded against them. The side of Canas' face had a nasty electrical burn from where Pent's thunder attack had him and the bricks of the cell were covered with a thick gooey substance from the Druid's Nosferatu spell.
The mistress of the manner – who had possessed the same general form and hair coloring as Louise – had come down earlier, sneering and saying that the authorities would be coming to cater them off to some sort of prison for attempting to rob her. Both Marcus and Lowen's yells about the Lycian knight code fell upon deaf ears as the woman, tossing back her pale hair vainly, laughed hideously and left them to their suffering.
"Hopefully we'll be able to explain the situation," said Marcus, his dark eyes looking around for any weakness in the cell's structure, "They couldn't possible arrest you milord," he added to Pent with a nod of his head in respect.
"You really think so general?" asked Lowen hopefully, starring longingly at the cell across from them where his and Marcus' horses were. They were chained. The group's weapons were stacked by the heavy wooden door of the dungeon, put up on display next to other various items found in a torture chamber.
"That depends on where we are," said Pent calmly and bitterly, "If we're in Lycia, doubtful considering that woman didn't recognize General Marcus, then we'll probably be released. If we're in Bern, then it's very, very doubtful we'll avoid the death sentence."
"How so milord?" asked Lowen again, his green eyes glittering behind his tangled bangs.
Pent gave a dejected sigh and turned to the amber-clad knight. "For the last time, Sir Lowen, while we are traveling with you, we are not your lord and lady. Those titles are for young masters Eliwood and Hector and Lady Lyndis and Firefly."
"Well, as Pent was saying, since Sonia still has a firm grip over his majesty Desmond, she'll probably decide our fate," explained Canas sadly, leaning against the wall and removing his monocle to polish it on his sash. "She would have most likely planned a horrific death for us all."
The door of the dungeon opened with a loud bang. All five turned to see who it was. A young boy, about Eliwood's age but much shorter and scrawnier, walked in like he owned the world. He had silver blonde hair and bleached pale skin, his cold gray eyes showed little to no emotion. Dressed in long, sweeping black robes, he could have passed for a Shaman, though the dark material sharply contrasted with his near-lifeless coloring.
"So, you're the idiots who tried to rob us," he sneered, eyeing them maliciously. Pent knew automatically that he was the son of the lady of the house, both had the same stance and sneering, pointed face.
"Leave him be, he's not worth it," Pent said airily to Lowen, who looked ready to hurt the kid as much as possible for insult on his pride. The amber-clad knight had his hands balled into very tight fists and only stopped glaring daggers into the boy's horrible face at a sharp command from his superior knight.
"I'm not worth it, eh? I am the son of Lucius Malfoy, and you would do well to respect me. After all, I'll be greatly surprised if they don't kill you for picking this house to steal from."
Canas and Pent exchanged looks, the Druid's dark purple eyes narrowed at the boy's egotistical behavior. Pent raised an eyebrow, knowing the man's plan and opened his mouth to argue against it but Louise smiled and nodded at Canas. "A very light one," she whispered, "Very light."
He stuck his hand from the bars, eyes glowing coal black. "Flux," he said softly. The attack was very, very mild but it sent the boy across the stone floor. He cursed loudly, gathering himself up with the faint outline of a Dark Magic scar forming on his lower face and neck. "Freak!" he yelled.
"Well, you probably deserved it. Did it shake your ego?" smiled Louise. Pent sighed at his wife's antics and black humor.
The boy's eyes narrowed but something dawned on his face. "How did you do that?" he asked quickly and interestedly with a smirk drawing itself on his face. Something behind his voice suggested to Pent more then simple interest.
"Why would you want to know?" asked Louise coldly, "You did just call Lord Canas a 'freak', correct?"
The boy turned his narrowed gray eyes towards Louise, moving closer towards their cell with the hands in the pockets of his robes. "Never you mind, woman," he said icly.
THAT sent Louise off. Pent had been with her long enough to know how touchy his wife was about sexist comments. Lowen winced slightly at the thought of Louise's fury and Canas merely looked bored as he adjusted his monocle back in his right eye. Louise pressed herself as close to the bars as she could and reached out both her gloved hands and grabbed the front of his robes, bringing him close to her face.
"I'll have you know that I can kick your sorry little ass into death and do it again and again. Now, I want you to take the comment back or else I might have to do something I would probably regret," one hand moved towards the boy's thin neck, "You little brat."
"Lady Louise!" yelled Lowen, shocked. Pent simply pulled his wife off the boy and gave her one hard, sharp glare with his pale eyes. "Now, save it for the Black Fang," he said softly, "Don't waste it on a little boy who offended you."
The boy in question spat at the ground in front of the cell just as the door opened again. The blonde woman walked in again, this time with two people dressed in deep crimson robes. Both people had a strangely familiar aura to them, despite the fact that Pent had never seen either before, though the woman – with tightly cropped hazel hair and lush red lips – had a very noticeable and graceful gate that was shared by all three of the Pegasus Sisters in their army.
"Mother, these ingrates insulted me," he whined, as though trying to sound younger then he truly was. The woman, Madame Malfoy, gave her son no heart and merely waved him away. "These are the people gentlemen," she said formally with an overly sugared voice, "The foul men who tried to rob me." Lowen opened his mouth to reply angrily but a hard glare from Marcus kept him quiet.
"Madame Malfoy says that you attempted to rob her. Explain," said one – a man with thick red hair and a prominent hooked nose – in a clearly faked raspy, hoarse voice. Pent looked towards him, examining the skull-like face and the way the red robes hung loosely on his body.
"We were here by accident, someone sent us here by use of a spell. We mean no harm to her," said Marcus quickly and calmly, "On my honor I assure you that we were not on this lady's property by choice." Madame Malfoy clicked her tongue disgustedly and looked away.
"Names?" asked the woman in another high, exaggerated voice.
"Pent of Regaly," said the Sage delicately.
"Hang on," said the woman before any other could introduce themselves. "Dumbledore mentioned that name. That violet haired kid with him said to look out for him, you know, that one with the really funny accent."
'Erk,' Pent knew, smiling at the thought of his young apprentice, 'Remind me to give you some gold.'
"What are you fools babbling about? Arrest them!" snapped Madame Malfoy, pointing a long-nailed finger in the cell, "They are petty thieves who tried to rob me! They had weapons!"
"Sorry miss, Professor Dumbledore said to look out for a group of people like them. They would be here by mistake. We'll have to let them off."
"WHAT!" roared Mrs. Malfoy, losing her lady like stance to ball her thin hands into fists and stand on tip-toes to loom over the man's head by an inch. The man didn't even bat an eyelash when he spoke in the same false voice.
"Sorry miss. Dumbledore's orders are like orders from the Minister. Can't ignore them."
Malfoy scowled and the female walked over to where the cell keys were hung and unlocked the steel door. She pulled Pent close to her, making sure she did not look too suspicious and whispered in his ear, "I'll explain later." Her voice's façade had dropped, revealing a thick Ilian accent and a very familiar firm dialect. The connection to her dance-like movement and the voice clicked together in his mind.
"Fiora?" he asked, shocked at such a change in her appearance. She bore no resemblance to the teal-haired commander what-so-ever and if not for both her aura and her voice, he would not have been able to believe it was her.
She nodded and spoke softer and quicker. "Heath's with me."
Pent smiled with faint mirth, looking at her companion. With his beak-like nose and horribly thin figure, he looked more like some half-human cadaver with an angry look in his dark brown eyes. They took their weapons, Louise glad to grasp her silver bow again and Fiora unlocked the cell containing their horses. Madame Malfoy pursed her lips very tightly together, grabbed her son's wrist and they marched out of the room. Only when the door slammed shut did Canas chuckle darkly. It seemed he had heard what Fiora had said earlier, or maybe Heath had slipped in a clue.
"The look really suits you Heath." Louise and the two Pherean knights stared at Heath with looks of shock and the Wyvern Rider scowled very darkly and bitterly. "Cram it. You think I like it?" He tugged at a lock of his new vermilion hair and angrily stuck it behind his ear with a vengence.
"So how did you two manage to do that? Some kind of magic, I know," said Marcus, buckling his sword sheath around his waist again.
Fiora licked her lips and spoke in a calm voice as she tugged at the collar of her red robes. "We, along with Hawkeye, Rath and Florina, were at some castle. Apparently this is some sort of alternate world."
Pent and Louise exchanged looks with raised eyebrows and Louise spoke slowly. "Lord Athos mentioned something like that. Apparently the Eight Heroes received aid from four people in this realm before the final battle of the Scouring."
Fiora nodded and continued speaking, "Anyway, he employed us as bodyguards for some kid and asked us to teach at a school he's headmaster for. He . . . seemed a lot like Lord Athos to tell the truth. He's some sort of Sage here and sent us here, he seemed to know you guys would be here."
"This stupid look is caused by some potion he gave us," said Heath very angrily, "Apparently, we were too young to get you folks but whatever that potion was, it was the worst thing I have ever drank, including whatever was in the stew Lady Tactician made last week."
"Let's just hope you don't end up looking like that naturally Heath."
"Shut up Canas!"
End Chapter V: Cambi Nell'apparenza
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