A/N – And here I present you all with the fourth chapter of Double-Edged! Whoohoo! ;; I told you I wouldn't take too long on this one…it's been what, two weeks? Not even? Karel and Matthew have another conversation in this chapter, but hopefully it'll prove interesting. And man, was it hard to keep Karel in character here…

Disclaimer: Oh yeah, I, a thirteen-year-old, own Fire Emblem. Psh, yeah right – FIRE EMBLEM ISN'T MINE.

'Chapter Four - The Demon's Memories'

Karel's molten gold eyes met immediately with Matthew's, the annoyance in their auburn-coloured depths turning quickly to anger. Clearly, the thief was not amused. Before a conversation could even start, Karel didn't like the way it was going.

He would waste no time. Face hard as stone, he said one word: "Move." Matthew did not.

"Move." Karel said, "Or you'll be removed." He wasn't in the mood to play any games. If Matthew continued to be this difficult, he would get himself cut down, and that would be a waste. The Wo Dao deserved stronger blood than any petty thief's.

"I don't think so," Matthew said, his voice almost teasing.

"Feh. If this is about the boy, I am not his babysitter." The sword-demon spoke calmly, but there was an edge to his words that was nearly as dangerous as his blade. "We have already discussed this matter."

"This is serious, though, Guy's been – "

Karel cut Matthew off. "You speak as though he's never been hurt before." He said, "So protective."

"Have you watched him on the battlefield at all?" The thief's voice quivered, "He's like another you! When there's a sword in his hands, he can't think of anything else! It's as if he's…" Matthew's voice faltered and then cut off, dropping the last word.

Karel had one guess what that last word was. 'Gone'.

"…I don't see how this has anything to do with me." He hissed, letting one hand hover over his sword-hilt, "Move."

Again, Matthew stood there unmoving, like a statue. Karel caught a flicker in his eyes before he spoke, his voice still quivering, but only a little.

"I remember you saying you'd never let anyone turn into another you." He said.

In Karel's mind, Matthew's words were daggers and he'd just made the first hit. The sword-demon's hands found the Wo Dao's handle. He grasped it, glaring at the thief. He was ready to fight back in the only way he knew how.

"My case in point." Matthew said, a smirk crossing his face for a moment, "You're barely human."

There was a still, soundless moment. A question hung heavily in the night air, along with anger, fear, and the stone-cold brutality of having no regrets.

Karel let his hand drop off the sword-hilt. For a minute, the blade had been hungry, but it was calm now, like its master. "I do not regret the path my life has taken." Karel said, glowering at Matthew, "Nor do I wish such a life for anyone else."

The thief gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean?" He asked.

Karel studied Matthew for a second. The thief was curious. And so angry around the sword-demon. He was also worried. Perhaps he had lost someone close to him in the past. And, perhaps, he was not as weak as Karel had initially decided he was.

Maybe he was strong after all – but he could also just be stubborn.

"Do you know how or why I became this way?"

"Explain." It was half an order, half a question the way Matthew said it.

There was a brief, tension-filled silence. Karel was looking Matthew over, like a wolf scouting out prey. His mind was ever-calculating. There were many decisions he needed to make, all within the next few seconds.

His first decision – swords could wait for at least a little bit. Matthew would need to be cut down eventually if this continued, however. He was both a nuisance and a potential threat.

The second decision – tell him. Tell him about becoming the legendary sword-demon, tell him why it would hurt to watch another go down the same path. This would certainly get Matthew off his back at least a little.

Though he'd no longer be just a potential threat. He'd be a true threat, because he would know secrets. One could never trust a thief with secrets. Secrets in the hands of a thief would be sold and twisted and turned against you. Matthew would need to be silenced. Silenced forever, so that he would tell no secrets.

So the third decision that Karel made was that should he discuss matters regarding his past, those he discussed them with would be killed.

This was strictly forbidden, of course. Lords Eliwood, Hector and Lyndis – the authority of this 'army' – wouldn't stand for so much as a fight among the group, unless it was for practice. It would be next to impossible for even him to get away with murder.

This would mean fleeing, which would only confirm his guilt. It wasn't hard for Karel to find a solution to this problem. Their large party contained several former Black Fang members, and Matthew made it painfully obvious that he loathed the Black Fang, even those who had become allies. The thief's hatred of the Angel of Death, Jaffar, was especially obvious. Jaffar didn't have the complete trust of any of the lords yet. It'd be painfully easy to shift the blame onto him.

All these calculations were complete within a minute. No trace of emotion showing on his face, Karel began to speak.

"You remember when I told you that I would never turn anyone into another of myself, correct?" He said. Matthew nodded and folded his arms across his chest, eying Karel with a 'keep talking' kind of stare.

It amused Karel that he was talking and Matthew was so quiet. How wrong that was! But he'd keep going. It was Matthew's loss if he wanted to waste an opportunity to interrogate and pester – possibly his last.

"I come from an old tribe in Sacae." Karel continued, his voice still calm. Already the memories – early, lost memories – were coming back. His earliest memories of bloodshed and pain. They were exciting the side of him that was, as Matthew had put it, barely human. A demonic side of him. "The tribe's name no longer matters. All of them are dead. Slain by my blade…for this."

He lovingly stroked the sheathed sword hanging by his waist. Slowly, he felt his mouth begin to twist into his typical demonic smile. A distant part of him despised the memories, but another part, which had for a long time been the dominant side of the sword-demon, enjoyed them. The scent and taste of human blood seemed almost real, right there, as he recalled that day. That was so many years ago. His first real taste of true bloodlust – wonderful memories.

"My father was the chieftain." He explained, "And the Wo Dao was something of an heirloom. But father was always saying only one could wield the sword. Only one."

Matthew's expression had changed by now, as had Karel's. The sword-demon had gone from emotionless to crazed, and the thief had gone from semi-stern and semi-curious to a sort of shocked look. They must have seemed so weird and out of place against the calm night background.

"…I always wanted to be that one, but there were six children in our family, and surely as one of the youngest, I would never inherit the sword." Karel said this, and his maniacal grin only spread as he remembered the way he'd always admired the sword. Despite his talent, though, and despite how interested he was, he eventually realized that there was only one way to ever wield such a perfect blade.

"Every day, the message of 'only one' was pounded into my mind. I knew it couldn't be me, but I so desired it…that I killed my older siblings for the sword." He shuddered. It wasn't a scared shudder. It was a delighted shudder, a shiver of power. "I so enjoyed the power of my first kill…that I went on to kill my parents…and then the entire tribe. Only my little sister was spared, and even she is very lucky to still be alive."

Finally, Matthew interjected. "And doesn't this frighten you?" He asked.

"Very little. I have no regrets. It's not a path I want to see others go down…that is all." Karel moved closer to the tent, deciding he'd done enough talking over the past twenty minutes or so to last him about a month.

"Don't you – "

"I already told you." Said Karel, entirely reverted to his expressionless state, "I have no regrets."

With that, he pushed through the cloth flap door and stalked into the healer's tent. 'Yes,' he thought, as if it were nothing, 'Yes, I really must dispose of that one.'

After all, upon learning about Karel's past, all but one had died.

-End Chapter-

A/N – Not sure what I thought of that. How about you guys? I'd really appreciate reviews with feedback of any kind, constructive criticism especially. So, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review! Here are the responses to the chapter three reviews:

Amethyst Bubble – It's nice to know you're still following (and enjoying) my fic. How's that for update time, hm?

Ryzuki – Nice to hear someone liked my descriptions. I was actually quite fond of chapter three, too, that being one of the reasons.

ShadowAngelUmbreon – Thank you, thank you.

Rayne-kun – Ah, but the weird is half the joy! Really, I must write some Karel/Guy fics WITHOUT the Matthew/Guy … though this IS gonna get really Karel/Guy-ish in the next couple of chapters, I think.