A/N

Nope, I still don't own Fire Emblem, or any of its names or characters. After reading over my own story, I really think I'm pretty horrible. In my own opinion, the chapters could be longer, and have more, more detail then what I've been putting in. But, the most important thing Is that I'm trying.

Chapter 2: Fatal Confrontation

Eliwood opened his soft blue eyes, to stare around the large marble hall that was filled with various people, dressed in fancy clothes. The outfit Eliwood had chosen to wear on this day, was not so different from the blue armor and clothing he used to wear on his campaign two years ago with Nergal. With only two major differences: What once was blue on his attire was now white, and the inside of his cape was light gold, and the outside was also white.

For two years, Eliwood had ruled as the new marques of Pherae, and he had done a rather good job of it. Ninian, of course, remained at his side. Only rarely were the two seen apart, and the only reason why they were not together at this present time, was because Ninian had volunteered to help at the hospital wing of the castle, to help tend wounded soldiers.

Eliwood sat upon a golden-colored throne, small multi colored jewels in a pattern of red, blue, green, and white lined the sides of both armrests, and all the way down to the floor. While a large, bright pink gem embedded on a gold ornament rested at the very top of the throne. Just off to the side, Marcus stood, arms folded behind his back, the ever-serious look upon his face. Isadora stood next to Marcus, looking occasionally across the room, but also looking serious.

The young marques remained stone still upon the throne, left arm resting upon an armrest, and the other bent upward, elbow resting on the rest, and his palm clasped to his cheek, in a thinking-stance. He carried a bored expression on his face, and felt the urge to sand up and scream at the top of his lungs. But decided not to, as that might wound his appearance as a proper marques. Instead, he merely sighed heavily, to which he received a remark from Marcus, who still looked straight ahead. "Is something wrong, milord?"

Slightly startled, Eliwood turned to his most loyal knight, and protector, and then nodded silently. "I'm fine, thank you Marcus. I'm just…a little frustrated is all."

"With what, Lord Eliwood, if I may ask."

"I used to be able to come back and fourth from the castle as much as I pleased, but now, I have to remain here, even if I have nothing that needs taking care of. I just want to get out of here, and maybe take a stroll through the countryside with Ninian."

Before another word could be spoken, the loud clatter of the large doors to the hall broke the minor silence, and through the doors came Lowen, dashing franticly up the red carpet toward the throne. He ran as fast as his armor would allow him to move. "L-Lord Eliwood! Commander Marcus!"

Immediately, Eliwood rose from his seat, and stepped off the small plateau, and kneeled next to Lowen, "Lowen, be calm! Tell me, what is wrong?"

The knight gasped for breath, but then looked up upon the lord, and nodded, slowly rising to his feat. "Outside the castle gates, milord! There is an evil-looking man, who claims to be a messenger from Castle Caelin. But there is also a man who looked as though he was strangled, and he was clutching a message scroll, which is now in the possession of the stranger!"

The words hit Eliwood hard, and he was about to rush off, then he was stopped by a surprise, Isadora had stepped in front of him, holding a rather large blade wrapped in a black cloak. "My lord, will you not need this?" She said, as Eliwood took the blade, and removed the cloth. Sure enough it was the Durandel. And so, using a special leather strap, Eliwood strapped the legendary weapon to his back, and marched down the hall, Marcus and Isadora right behind him.

The gate to the drawbridge lowered, the rattling of large chains breaking all silence. The massive wooden gate slammed against the ground, with a ground shaking thud, and Eliwood, along with his retainers, Marcus and Isadora, stood just at the entrance, and stared across the way at a stranger, who quickly spoke.

"Eliwood of Pherae, I come with a message from Lyndis of Caelin."

Eliwood was the next to speak, already noticing the corpse of an apparent young man, wearing Caelin robes. He suspected this was the true messenger, but what did this man want? "And who are you stranger, that you would kill the true messenger of the east to deliver the message yourself?" But received only the faintest of smirks. Marcus stepped forward, sword drawn but was stopped by his lord. Finally, the man spoke,

"I am Sparta, of Bern. And I have come with not only a message, but with a challenge." This man sported a long, leather trench coat of dark red, which was slightly opened in the middle, revealing his darkly tanned flesh, but it was held slightly shut, if only a but, but a black strap. His pants were black, dark blue bucklers across the kneecap part of the pants. And his boots were plain, solid black. And, of course, shoulder length silver hair that flew about his brow and face.

He seemed normal enough, to Eliwood. But still, there was something eerie about him. He spoke again, "Lyndis of Caelin wishes to meet at House Ostia in two days. She wishes to discuss something personal with you and Marques Ostia, Hector." He paused, and sweeped a clump of silver hair away from his eyes. "And I request a challenge. I am planning on reforming the Black Fang, once again. I, along with two other men request revenge on the death of Nergal. But we wish to do this fairly, and squarely. So, if you accept, then come to Bern, after you speak with Marques Ostia. If not, then—"

Marcus had had enough, which was rare for his part, since he was normally so calm, quiet, and patient. The veteran knight grasped his sword tightly, and rushed toward this man, who was threatening his lord. However, just before he got within arms reach of his target, Marcus found himself being pushed back, by a sharp snap of icy wind. Ice crystal daggers, small of course, blew with the wind, and stung Marcus all over, causing his armor temperature to lower dramatically, causing even more pain.

When he couldn't take it anymore, Marcus let himself be blown back by the fierce wind, and looked up just in time to see the man named Sparta vanish in a swirl of red light, his faint cackling echoing numerous times, before fading upon the wind. Eliwood rushed to Marcus' side, knelt down by him, and spoke, whilst looking straight ahead. "Are you okay, Marcus? Do you need a surgeon?"

"No my lord. I have been through worse. What are your intentions, milord?"

With a look of determination, Eliwood stood up, Isadora and himself somehow managing to help Marcus rise to his feet. "Call for Ninian, and ready the horses. We ride for Ostia!"

R & R/