FIRE EMBLEM

The Shadow's Glove

The forest of Uta'fa was extremely dark this evening, except for a single light playing amongst the gnarled trees. The trees were of the softwood family and grew up extraordinarily tall for this side of the country, but that was the least of Berin's worries. He stood silently, mesmerized by the dancing flames he had whipped up while the sun was still out. The moon was nowhere to be seen and that only added to the eerie darkness.

Two more people stood around the fire. Their faces masked by the contrast in shadows. One of them was too, mesmerized by the fire's dance. While the other merely smiled at the fire, unworried in the slightest of the darkness which surrounded the three.

"We have gathered on this spot for the last five years." Berin said, breaking the silence, and shaking off the fire's mesmerization "Sadly, we can continue this no longer. The governor of Felac Deson has requested a gathering of all the Neighbouring Countries on Summons Hill, as you are no doubt aware, I, too, must go."

The one that had remained mesmerized looked up in disbelief, but remained silent. The other continued to smile into the fire.

"I'm afraid that this will be the last time the three of us will meet like this. Goodbye, my friends."

Summons Hill. Commander Glenn despised the place and all that it stood for. He was a soldier, and a loyal one to boot, but he just did not believe that a gathering of old men would settle anything. He glared up at the unrelenting sun as it reached down in powerful golden rays to . . . bake the earth and all its inhabitants, in Glenn's opinion.

"Let's see now," He said out loud to himself. "There's the governor of Felac Deson, King Abrachan of Loreis, Emperor Rye of the Fabled City-States, and Mistress Felia of the Gothan Wastelands. Rumour has it that Felac Deson has just appointed a new Governor. That's probably what this is all about."

"Worried?" A young man rode up to him, his beamed as brightly as the sun reflecting off his well polished armour as he shifted in his saddle. It was Ryan, a Cavalier under Commander Glenn's instructions. Glenn had taken a liking to the young lad, he was bright, cunning and skillful, spitting image of himself.

Ryan's happy gaze became more serious as he looked towards Summon Hill, where the Countries Leaders were meeting. "So I am." Ryan said.

"Worried? Only about melting in this blasted sunlight!" Commander Glenn said rubbing at a smudge on his bulky breastplate. The Commander was a slightly overweight fellow, his hair peppered with grey to show his age, he had a stubby mustache and a receding hairline. Sweat began to run down his face as he slowly cooked in his armour. "I hope they finish soon."

"His Majesty, King Abrachan, asked me to locate the Prince, have you seen him?" Ryan asked, again shifting to find a comfortable position upon his saddle.

"Prince Epharoth? No, hasn't seen him since he went out riding this morning. Went with General Jess, he did. Darn Jess, his Majesty should have placed Epharoth under my tutelage instead of that old fool's." General Jess was, in fact, ten years Glenn's junior, but Ryan knew better than to try and correct his superior."

"Alright, I check in with D'Arthony . . . if not, I could have some bad news for his Highness." And with that Ryan rode off as Glenn continued to curse the sun's heat.

Berin detested these meetings, but they did not happen all too frequently so he really couldn't complain. As a member of Abrachan's Personal Guard, he had the honour of bearing witness to these odd moment when the Leaders of the countries gathered. He stood by the entrance silently surveying the proceedings. He recognized his Lordship, King Abrachan, Emperor Rye, and Mistress Felia, but he did not recongize the fourth member at the table. He must be the representative for Felac Deson. Berin let out a light breath as he stood guard. He was General Jess's older brother and he was responsible for Jess to receive his rank. It had been offered to him by King Abrachan, but he felt Jess had a more tactically sound mind than his older brother and instead he had sworn to remain by his King's side as his personal bodyguard. But there were days, such as today where he had wished he could ride among the countryside like so many years ago.

"What is this about, Governor?" His Majesty, King Abrachan asked. He wore ceremonial robes, and like the other rulers present he did not wear his crown, in a gesture of equality, his hair and beard were a pale white and his face had weathered with age, but his clear blue eyes shone with that youthful wisdom they always had.

The new face smiled "I have been recently appointed as Felac Deson's ruler, as you have no doubt suspected and I merely wished to greet you all in person."

He had short indigo hair, a young face, indigo eyes and wore a simple brown robe which concealed the rest of his appearance.

"What is the meaning of this!" Emperor Rye said, quickly rising to his feet. Emperor Rye was well-known throughout the land as a legendary swordsman and a cunning tactician, and to see him angry was a sight not often forgotten. He had coal-black hair and wore a swordmaster's garb.

"Have you called us here out of mockery?" Mistress Felia stood, her golden hair tumbling down her shoulders. Out of all those present, she wore an attire most suited for the weather, a tight-fitting outfit that left her arms, shoulders, waist and lower legs bare. But it was to be expected of the ruler of the barren Gothan Wastelands.

"No," The unnamed Governor spoke softly, "I have called you here to inform you that Summons Hill is currently surrounded by the Felac Deson Regular Army, and that we have all your offspring under custody and unless you turn over all your land to me. They will all be killed."

Everyone stared in silence as the man rose. "You have 7 hours to make a decision or my men will believe something has happened to me and they will not hesitate to eliminate your children." He snapped his fingers as armed guards rushed into the room. There was a total of six guards to protect the other three leaders, including Berin, but they were horribly outnumbered. Berin reached towards his sword nonetheless, willing to die for his King's safety, if need be.

Commander Glenn opened his watering canteen and splashed some of the cool refreshing liquid onto his face. The water evaporated rather quickly and he cursed at its quick departure. He drove the butt-end of his lance into the ground so it stood up vertically on its own. A ribbon given to him by his daughter was tied tightly around the spear and so far it had given him good luck as long as he held it firmly in his grasp. He walked away and stood under the shade of a tree. Letting out a sigh he dropped on the spot.

It wasn't long before he heard the clatter of hooves on the dry dirt path, he counted them. Two riders. Probably Ryan and Prince Epharoth, he surmised, not bothering to get up from his shade. He closed his eyes, imagining how much his four year daughter had changed in the last two years.

Two hooded Cavaliers trotted to a stop in front of him. He opened his eyes as a lance was plunged into his chest. He grimaced in pain as the rider withdrew his lance from his flesh.

General Jess bounced in his saddle as raced down the dirt path. His sword drawn as he chased after the two hooded riders Prince Epharoth had discovered to be armed Mercenaries. The Prince followed closely behind him, he was garbed in a very ceremonial suit of armour, which cover his upper torso, underneath he wore a simple tunic and a two-coloured cape, the outside black and the inside red. He wore riding boots and tight-fitting leather gloves which went up to his elbows. A sword on his belt and a lance in his hand.

Jess had always admired the Prince, he was a fast learner, a great warrior, and an impressive tactician. He was even more impressed with how quickly the Prince could place his enemy's origin.

Earlier while hunting with the General, Epharoth had spotted the hidden riders and identified them as Mercenaries. Mercenaries gathered near Summons Hill could not be a good sign and the two rode their horses to the limit to reach the patrols before something could happen.

Ryan, the Cavalier who had earlier been conversing with Glenn pulled up alongside the two, "What's going on?" He asked.

"Mercenaries." The Prince said.

Ryan drew up his horse's reins, "But that–?" He pondered out loud, he then realized he was falling behind and kicked his horse forward.

The three riders spotted the two mercenaries under a tree, a lone spear stood in the ground, a ribbon flapped near it's tip. One of the mercenaries withdrew his spear from something behind the tree, and was followed by a human yelp.

Ryan identified the ribbon-clad spear as Commander Glenn's and he withdrew his longbow. Releasing an arrow at the assailants, the thin object flew towards the two and plunged into the mercenary who attacked Glenn. The other looked up, started by his friend's sudden and instant death, hauled on his horse's reins and took off.

The three riders rode up to the tree, the hooded assailant stared blankly at the sky.

Ryan leaped off his horse and rushed to the Commander's aid. The others followed. He was still alive.

"Felac Desonians." The Prince said, examining the fallen rider's face.

"But Felac Deson called this meeting to order . . ." General Jess informed no one in particular.

"The Meeting!" Ryan said quickly, "My Prince, Lord Abrachan wanted you to be present as it is only a year before you come of age! He could be in danger!"

The prince whirled around and ran towards Summons Hill, not even bothering to remount his horse.

"Epharoth!" The General called and he too ran off without his steed.