I've been slacking on this story! (Grins) Don't ask why I'm happy; I'm not. I've been working on this new inspiration attack I've had lately, and I still didn't really know where to start this chapter when I wrote it because nobody helped suggest anything. (Cries) At least the story is liked, so my simple, puny mind is satisfied.
Okay, I've been fussing over some of the characters too much. To RianneHime, no, I am not going to kill any Fire Emblem characters in this story. I am not that sadistic. (Peh.) And, to R Amythest- See? I said it was corny. I just knew it. I'm working on making things less corny in this chapter, but with what my friend has been telling me about one of her fics lately (one that she's trying to make corny...) I guess some of the corniness from her is rubbing off on me, and it's making me depressed, 'cause I don't really like writing corny stuff.
Disclaimer: You know, before I registered for FanFiction.net, I always wondered why all those fanfic authoresses would make muses say their disclaimer for them. Maybe it's cause they get bored or something, I still really don't know because to me it's all just slavery, but... I'll just say it myself. I don't own Fire Emblem, and just so people don't get confused, the bad guys don't really exist in the game. (At least not in my knowledge.) But, of course, nobody is getting confused, unless somebody's not telling me something, so I don't know why I am not starting the fic. Fic. Fic-kuh. Ick. Fuh-I-Ck. Reading Animorphs, Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill is hilarious. (Did I spell his name right? &% Andalite names...)
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Chapter Six
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Another arrow struck the small circle carved in the tree, splitting the previous arrow in half. Rath reached inside his quiver for another arrow, but his hand groped thin air. He angrily slipped the quiver off and slammed it into the ground, grunting and muttering several inappropriate words. Then, once again silencing himself, he picked several branches off the ground, whipped out a dagger, and started carving out new arrows from the slim sticks of wood. He was thinking back to that hour, shortly after breakfast...
Rath walked around the hallways of the castle, lost as he sometimes was in large castles. He couldn't say he was used to the open plains of Sacae, like Lyn, Guy, or Karel, as he hadn't exactly spent all his nineteen years in the 'savage' country, but he definitely never got along well with twisting hallways and confusing corridors. He turned at every corner and looked around for any signs of familiarity, but nothing was recognizable. Just when he was thinking about jumping out the open window to get away from the maze, he heard some people talking.
"Yes, just you and me now, hm? I think this will be quick and easy."
Rath had one boot on the windowsill, but took it off and instead crawled up to the open door that the voices were coming from. A loud cracking sound shook his eardrums, but he refused to make any noise in case the people inside were enemies.
There was laughing, then the same voice again. "My... what an amusing fellow, you are. What is your name?"
"You think I'll tell you?" came a vaguely familiar voice. Rath strained a little, but couldn't recognize the voice due to the strain and struggle that it was coated heavy with.
"Oh... you mean you won't tell me? That's too bad." There was a strange cracking noise, softer than the one earlier, and suddenly the struggling sounds that the other person was making stopped. A moment of silence, then the cold voice spoke again. "Hmph. There goes my victim..."
Rath tensed. Whoever that struggling person had been, it was most definitely someone from the army, and by the sounds of it, whoever had been antagonizing him was not. Rath strung his bow, ready for combat. "Stop where you are." He stepped in front of the open door to get an aim for his target, briefly noticing that the person was picking up a huge chunk of ice, and fired at him. The arrow pierced the person's shoulder, almost causing the person to drop the statue in pain.
"Who are you?" The person demanded. Upon closer inspection, Rath could see the style of his cloak and the title of the book he was carrying: 'Fimbulvetr'. By the stance, the nomad concluded that the person was a sage.
At first Rath didn't register the question, but when he figured it out, he didn't feel like answering it. "... I have no reason to tell you."
The sage looked positively ticked at his defiance, but it didn't look like he was going to unfreeze the poor person frozen in the chunk of Fimbulvetr. "Well, if you don't tell me, then I'm going!" He rudely shoved past Rath and jumped out the open window Rath had looked at earlier. Rath looked at the window, though he didn't know why, before he stepped into the room. It was a mess; there was some ice on the walls, the rugs were tossed all over the floor, the tapestries were swinging, an arrow in the wall, and a broken bow on the ground, next to a rug. Rath walked closer to the bow, once again feeling recognition, and looked at it. He was shocked and surprised at the same time when he saw the color pattern and dent marks on the bow. He knew that bow well; it belonged to his combat partner, and fellow student. Wil.
He pounded the ground angrily, putting the logic together. "... ... They've got Wil... ..."
Rath was still pulling his hair out over that memory. He had been right there, just outside the doorway, and he hadn't done anything. He could have stopped that sage; he could have knocked the captive he knew was Wil out of his hands, anything! But instead, he had stood there and let the criminal escape, just like any other corny story that had been written in Elibe in the last twenty years.
Mild pain shot up his arm. He looked at his hand. Because he had been so wrapped up in his memory and anger, he had cut his finger. He sighed, dropped the half-formed arrows, and walked toward the castle. Maybe I should go see that merchant.
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Eliwood was walking through the bedroom hallway, knocking on every occupied room to make sure everyone was doing okay. He closed the door for Jaffar's room, shaking and starting to regret his idea of checking on people, due to Jaffar's reaction when he had asked.
"Good evening, Jaffar," Eliwood said, in his usual voice of authority. "No problems on preparation, I assume?"
The assassin looked up, and Eliwood's heart sped up in fear. The hint in the assassin's eyes were so determined and angry, they might as well have had a neon sign saying, "I am the Angel of Death and I want to kill those morons slowly and painfully." Jaffar had been sharpening his Killing Edge before Eliwood walked in, and he held them up threateningly, as if to tell the young lord, "Come any closer and I'll use you as a test run."
"Okay..." Eliwood said slowly, closing the door as gently as he could.
Eliwood shook his head and took deep breaths. Then he opened the next door, bracing himself in case it was another angry person. It was Ninian and Nils.
"Ninian! Nils!"
The two turned their heads toward the door, and Ninian suddenly looked down. Nils patted her on the back and whispered something in her ear, ignoring the deep blush slowly creeping over his sister's face.
The fear quickly disappeared when Eliwood saw those two. He smiled at them. "So are you prepared for tomorrow's likely battle?"
Ninian nodded shyly, and Nils elbowed her lightly. She looked up. "Ah... I mean, um... yes..." She gave Eliwood a small smile before looking away quickly. Nils rolled his eyes.
Eliwood nodded, dense as hell about women. "That's good. We might need both of you in the next battle."
Nils jumped. "Both of us? Why?"
"Well," the young lord started, "It's something I discussed with Lyn and the tactician. We both agree on the idea that it would be useful if one of you could help out the army while the other one of you goes to help out the captives. Several of them might need extra energy to get out of here."
Nils nodded. "I see." He whipped out his flute and tapped the holes, warming up his fingers. "Then I guess I should prepare myself, too."
Ninian nodded quietly. Nils elbowed her again. "I... I mean... I should... prepare myself also..." She grabbed her scarf and smoothened it.
Eliwood looked puzzled. "Didn't you just say you were already prepared?"
"Oh!" Ninian turned redder. "Um... I mean... uh..."
"She means she needs to prepare herself for the change of tactics," Nils quickly covered for her. Ninian nodded desperately.
"Okay. Then I guess you're both fine." Eliwood smiled again and walked out the room, closing the door behind him.
Nils pounded on his bed. "Ninian! You didn't tell him! You said you would!"
"I'm sorry... I just... I just couldn't..." Ninian mumbled. "I don't like telling people personal things..."
"Either you tell him or I tell him!" Nils threatened, and Ninian nodded. Then she got off her bed and practiced her dance; the one she had created just for the young lord.
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Wil sneezed, sighed, and sneezed again. "I'm getting kind of bored. Isn't this usually the time when the bad guys pop in and make their arrogant speech about how we'll never escape?"
"Yes, I think so," Lucius agreed. "When do you think is the part when they try to kill us, only to be stopped by a superhero who makes a speech about justice and righteousness?"
Wil shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't even know what the bad guys look like, or if they're actually human."
"Nobody does, so far," Lucius shrugged. "I never thought I'd be so bored as to hold an idiotic conversation like this one, did you? It seems everybody is bored right now."
"Nope and yup," Wil answered. Priscilla had decided to try reciting the Thunder spell, just to make sure she had remembered it. She wasn't even going to attempt trying to learn the wrist movements or the stances yet; she was still a level seventeen troubadour, for crying out loud, but when Erk was giving her a short review, he had thought it convenient if she got a head start. Heath had fallen asleep, and Legault was humming a lullaby that quickly drove Lucius and Wil crazy.
In the cell next to Lucius's, somebody yawned. Wil and Lucius looked over at it half-heartedly, already knowing who it was. "Rise and shine, Serra," Lucius commented.
Serra groaned. "Ooh, I've got cramps everywhere, and... ick! Was I sleeping on the ground? Yuck! This isn't a way to treat a delicate beauty like me!"
Many people sighed at Serra's normality. Serra crossed her arms and did a daily "Humph!" Then got right to business, which was not like her. "Oh! Lucius, I picked up your Aura book. You dropped it when they hit you, and I hid it, just in case they were going to disarm you." She reached behind her scarf and pulled out the tome.
"My Aura book?" Lucius smiled. "Thank you, Serra..." The cleric handed the book to him, and he opened the front cover, looking at what was written on the inside cover.
For Lucius; With Love From Raven
Lucius's smile widened, but in a sad sort of way. "L... lord Raymond gave me this..." He closed the book and hugged it close, careful not to wet it with tears. Wil and Serra looked at him sympathetically.
"That's why you were so worried about losing it," Wil nodded. "Yeah, I guess I would have been like that if..."
He stopped talking, and Serra leaned as close to Wil's cage as she could get. "If...?" She asked, smiling widely.
Wil glared at her in mock anger. "Oh, you be quiet. It's none of your business." He made a slapping motion in Serra's direction and fiddled with his Longbow. "Well, since everyone's weapon has been given to them by someone they care too much about," he looked over at Serra, "Did your Erky give you that Heal staff?"
Serra blinked. "Erky...?" She scratched her chin, looking like she was thinking hard. "Who's that...?"
Wil shook his head. "You know, your nickname for Erk. You always call him that, everyone in the castle hears when you do." The archer winced at the memory of Serra's loud voice. "Come on, stop playing dumb."
Serra shrugged. "Okay... whoever you're talking about."
"... You know, Serra, you're really bad at playing dumb."
The pink-haired cleric looked insulted. "Hey, no I'm not! Stop insulting me, Nino!"
"Eep!" Said the voice. Then, a few moments later, the same voice spoke again, except several octaves lower. "Um, I mean, I'm not Nino. I'm Unc- um, I mean, I'm Legault."
"Very funny, Nino," said the real Legault. "I'm right here."
"I know," sighed Nino in defeat, using her own voice. She jumped down from the top of the bars and landed next to Legault and Heath, startling the thief. "I have been spying on you long before you woke up." Then she offered an innocent smile to expand her life span.
Legault growled. "I would like to know why you would spy on me, how the hell you're able to spy on a bloody thief, and why you're in my cell and not your own."
Nino's eyes rolled up to the top of the cell, thinking. "Hmm... Well, I like to spy on you because it's fun, and I was able to get into your cell because of that gap over there." She pointed, and Legault squinted at the direction she was pointing at. It was a small gap in the bars, where some very strong prisoner must have bent in frustration or in a foolish attempt at escape. "It was a big squeeze, but I was able to get from my cell to your cell."
Legault nodded. "You still haven't answered my second question." He leaned over at her and glared. "How the hell are you able to spy on a bloody thief?" He repeated, to ensure clarification.
Nino held up her hands and grinned. "Sorry, confidential information, but you'll thank me later." She scrambled back into her own cell and smiled innocently again, causing Legault to growl in frustration.
It was a good think that Nino had gotten back to her cell, too, because at the moment the door opened. Wil stopped bickering with Serra, Lucius looked stopped trying to resolve their conflict, Priscilla stopped reciting the Thunder spell, Heath woke up, Legault stopped growling, and Nino kept smiling. Her smile didn't last long, though, because she recognized the person who walked through. "You," she spat venomously.
The assassin that walked through the door looked toward her direction, eyes widening. "Oh, it's you, that young mage," he said. "I'm sorry I strangled you; are you okay?" He shifted the weight of whatever he was carrying over his shoulder. It was hard to tell what it was, because it was covered in a blanket. Lucius looked over at Nino and mouthed something that looked like, 'He strangled you?'
Nino nodded, glaring at the assassin. "I was being friendly to him, and he grabbed me by the neck." She rubbed her neck, which was starting to get sore just from looking at the assassin. "I don't think it'll matter to you, but I was fine before you came in."
The assassin nodded, ignoring the last four words. "That's good to know." He took out a key from his belt, unlocked a cell next to Wil's, and gently dumped whatever he was carrying from his shoulder to the cell. He unrolled the blanket and took out a pillow, a set of clothing, and a sword case with a sword which handle didn't match.
He walked out of the cell and locked it again before going over to Nino's cell. "Hey, I'm really sorry, it's just something I had to do. I would have been gentler if I could, but... all the other methods I could think of were probably worse." He motioned over to the cell he had just unloaded in. "I didn't make you bleed into unconsciousness, like Cylt did to that poor guy. Cylt's just a polite sadist." He reached a hand through the bars and smiled. "I already introduced myself to you, but I don't think you heard me that time. I'm Scourge. What's your name?"
Nino glared at his hand, resisting the temptation to just pull it in and set it on fire. "I'm Nino," she answered bluntly.
Scourge nodded. "Nino, got it. Don't worry; we are not going to kill you. We've let you keep your weapons, although we didn't have an extra Light tome for your monk friend," he looked toward Lucius. "Sorry."
Lucius shrugged. "It's okay, I got my book back anyway."
Scourge nodded again and turned back toward Nino. "I'll come back and bring you all dinner in a few minutes, okay?"
The assassin walked out the door and shut it. Nino snorted. "Dinner, ha. Probably just some stale bread and dirty water."
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Scourge rushed into the kitchens, startling the myrmidon and bishop that were cooking in it. "Hey, could we have a buffet today? Just, you know, to celebrate the successful launch of Phase One of Mistress's plan."
Cylt looked at Mint, who shrugged. "That's fine," Mint agreed. "It sounds like a nice idea; besides, I'm a little tired from all that excitement today. It would be nice to have a big, tasty dinner."
Cylt took out a cookbook from the shelf next to the oven and flipped through it. "I wouldn't mind cooking a little more than usual; the recipes here are so easy and fun." He stopped on several pages, licking his lips. "And delicious."
Scourge smiled and nodded. "Yes... and its free time, right? Like usual?"
Mint poked Scourge in the bellybutton with the handle of a ladle. "Obviously. It's not like much has changed. You can eat in any part of the castle."
Scourge nodded faster. "Of course. Thank you!"
Mint tapped the ladle against a pot, which was currently brewing a stew. "Hmm... what about the victims? What will they eat?"
Cylt motioned over to a basket. "I can feed them. It's all the bread I found left over from yesterday's breakfast. As for what they drink, they can have something from that pitcher." He pointed to the pitcher next to the basket of bread.
Scourge was still nodding, but not as eagerly as before. "Okay. Glad you have that taken care of. I can't wait until dinner!" He smiled cheerfully and waved. "Well... see you two later, I guess."
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Okay, I think I'll stop it there. I know Serra, Lucius, Nino, Rath, Legault, Heath, Priscilla, Wil, Eliwood, Jaffar, Ninian, and Nils were out of character in this chapter, and I'm sorry! (Boo hoo hoo) The next chapter is going to start with where the eight 'victims' are, unless I get another inspiration attack and decide to write about the castle where everyone else is. I don't think this will end up with Eliwood/Ninian, but it probably will have some one sided Ninian/Eliwood.
A note: I will be gone from July 3rd, 2004 and will probably be missing for about a week, so don't expect a snappy three-day update (like on chapter four).
Amethyst Bubble hasn't updated yet! (At least, not when I'm typing this.) That's okay; once again, if you haven't read 'The Troubles of Matchmaking', please do so, and if you have read it already, please go read RianneHime's new story, 'The Case of the Stolen Heart'. It's only got about three reviews, and I really think it deserves more. It's a great story, with the same humor, great quality, and advanced vocabulary that makes me shrink away. You see, my vocabulary stinks, and that's just another thing I envy RianneHime for. GO READ HER STORY.
Oh, and please review. (Smiles) I can't say I'd be sitting around waiting for them (because I'll be camping somewhere), but I'll still love reading them when I get back. I'll go work on that one-shot now.
Okay, I've been fussing over some of the characters too much. To RianneHime, no, I am not going to kill any Fire Emblem characters in this story. I am not that sadistic. (Peh.) And, to R Amythest- See? I said it was corny. I just knew it. I'm working on making things less corny in this chapter, but with what my friend has been telling me about one of her fics lately (one that she's trying to make corny...) I guess some of the corniness from her is rubbing off on me, and it's making me depressed, 'cause I don't really like writing corny stuff.
Disclaimer: You know, before I registered for FanFiction.net, I always wondered why all those fanfic authoresses would make muses say their disclaimer for them. Maybe it's cause they get bored or something, I still really don't know because to me it's all just slavery, but... I'll just say it myself. I don't own Fire Emblem, and just so people don't get confused, the bad guys don't really exist in the game. (At least not in my knowledge.) But, of course, nobody is getting confused, unless somebody's not telling me something, so I don't know why I am not starting the fic. Fic. Fic-kuh. Ick. Fuh-I-Ck. Reading Animorphs, Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill is hilarious. (Did I spell his name right? &% Andalite names...)
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Chapter Six
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Another arrow struck the small circle carved in the tree, splitting the previous arrow in half. Rath reached inside his quiver for another arrow, but his hand groped thin air. He angrily slipped the quiver off and slammed it into the ground, grunting and muttering several inappropriate words. Then, once again silencing himself, he picked several branches off the ground, whipped out a dagger, and started carving out new arrows from the slim sticks of wood. He was thinking back to that hour, shortly after breakfast...
Rath walked around the hallways of the castle, lost as he sometimes was in large castles. He couldn't say he was used to the open plains of Sacae, like Lyn, Guy, or Karel, as he hadn't exactly spent all his nineteen years in the 'savage' country, but he definitely never got along well with twisting hallways and confusing corridors. He turned at every corner and looked around for any signs of familiarity, but nothing was recognizable. Just when he was thinking about jumping out the open window to get away from the maze, he heard some people talking.
"Yes, just you and me now, hm? I think this will be quick and easy."
Rath had one boot on the windowsill, but took it off and instead crawled up to the open door that the voices were coming from. A loud cracking sound shook his eardrums, but he refused to make any noise in case the people inside were enemies.
There was laughing, then the same voice again. "My... what an amusing fellow, you are. What is your name?"
"You think I'll tell you?" came a vaguely familiar voice. Rath strained a little, but couldn't recognize the voice due to the strain and struggle that it was coated heavy with.
"Oh... you mean you won't tell me? That's too bad." There was a strange cracking noise, softer than the one earlier, and suddenly the struggling sounds that the other person was making stopped. A moment of silence, then the cold voice spoke again. "Hmph. There goes my victim..."
Rath tensed. Whoever that struggling person had been, it was most definitely someone from the army, and by the sounds of it, whoever had been antagonizing him was not. Rath strung his bow, ready for combat. "Stop where you are." He stepped in front of the open door to get an aim for his target, briefly noticing that the person was picking up a huge chunk of ice, and fired at him. The arrow pierced the person's shoulder, almost causing the person to drop the statue in pain.
"Who are you?" The person demanded. Upon closer inspection, Rath could see the style of his cloak and the title of the book he was carrying: 'Fimbulvetr'. By the stance, the nomad concluded that the person was a sage.
At first Rath didn't register the question, but when he figured it out, he didn't feel like answering it. "... I have no reason to tell you."
The sage looked positively ticked at his defiance, but it didn't look like he was going to unfreeze the poor person frozen in the chunk of Fimbulvetr. "Well, if you don't tell me, then I'm going!" He rudely shoved past Rath and jumped out the open window Rath had looked at earlier. Rath looked at the window, though he didn't know why, before he stepped into the room. It was a mess; there was some ice on the walls, the rugs were tossed all over the floor, the tapestries were swinging, an arrow in the wall, and a broken bow on the ground, next to a rug. Rath walked closer to the bow, once again feeling recognition, and looked at it. He was shocked and surprised at the same time when he saw the color pattern and dent marks on the bow. He knew that bow well; it belonged to his combat partner, and fellow student. Wil.
He pounded the ground angrily, putting the logic together. "... ... They've got Wil... ..."
Rath was still pulling his hair out over that memory. He had been right there, just outside the doorway, and he hadn't done anything. He could have stopped that sage; he could have knocked the captive he knew was Wil out of his hands, anything! But instead, he had stood there and let the criminal escape, just like any other corny story that had been written in Elibe in the last twenty years.
Mild pain shot up his arm. He looked at his hand. Because he had been so wrapped up in his memory and anger, he had cut his finger. He sighed, dropped the half-formed arrows, and walked toward the castle. Maybe I should go see that merchant.
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Eliwood was walking through the bedroom hallway, knocking on every occupied room to make sure everyone was doing okay. He closed the door for Jaffar's room, shaking and starting to regret his idea of checking on people, due to Jaffar's reaction when he had asked.
"Good evening, Jaffar," Eliwood said, in his usual voice of authority. "No problems on preparation, I assume?"
The assassin looked up, and Eliwood's heart sped up in fear. The hint in the assassin's eyes were so determined and angry, they might as well have had a neon sign saying, "I am the Angel of Death and I want to kill those morons slowly and painfully." Jaffar had been sharpening his Killing Edge before Eliwood walked in, and he held them up threateningly, as if to tell the young lord, "Come any closer and I'll use you as a test run."
"Okay..." Eliwood said slowly, closing the door as gently as he could.
Eliwood shook his head and took deep breaths. Then he opened the next door, bracing himself in case it was another angry person. It was Ninian and Nils.
"Ninian! Nils!"
The two turned their heads toward the door, and Ninian suddenly looked down. Nils patted her on the back and whispered something in her ear, ignoring the deep blush slowly creeping over his sister's face.
The fear quickly disappeared when Eliwood saw those two. He smiled at them. "So are you prepared for tomorrow's likely battle?"
Ninian nodded shyly, and Nils elbowed her lightly. She looked up. "Ah... I mean, um... yes..." She gave Eliwood a small smile before looking away quickly. Nils rolled his eyes.
Eliwood nodded, dense as hell about women. "That's good. We might need both of you in the next battle."
Nils jumped. "Both of us? Why?"
"Well," the young lord started, "It's something I discussed with Lyn and the tactician. We both agree on the idea that it would be useful if one of you could help out the army while the other one of you goes to help out the captives. Several of them might need extra energy to get out of here."
Nils nodded. "I see." He whipped out his flute and tapped the holes, warming up his fingers. "Then I guess I should prepare myself, too."
Ninian nodded quietly. Nils elbowed her again. "I... I mean... I should... prepare myself also..." She grabbed her scarf and smoothened it.
Eliwood looked puzzled. "Didn't you just say you were already prepared?"
"Oh!" Ninian turned redder. "Um... I mean... uh..."
"She means she needs to prepare herself for the change of tactics," Nils quickly covered for her. Ninian nodded desperately.
"Okay. Then I guess you're both fine." Eliwood smiled again and walked out the room, closing the door behind him.
Nils pounded on his bed. "Ninian! You didn't tell him! You said you would!"
"I'm sorry... I just... I just couldn't..." Ninian mumbled. "I don't like telling people personal things..."
"Either you tell him or I tell him!" Nils threatened, and Ninian nodded. Then she got off her bed and practiced her dance; the one she had created just for the young lord.
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Wil sneezed, sighed, and sneezed again. "I'm getting kind of bored. Isn't this usually the time when the bad guys pop in and make their arrogant speech about how we'll never escape?"
"Yes, I think so," Lucius agreed. "When do you think is the part when they try to kill us, only to be stopped by a superhero who makes a speech about justice and righteousness?"
Wil shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't even know what the bad guys look like, or if they're actually human."
"Nobody does, so far," Lucius shrugged. "I never thought I'd be so bored as to hold an idiotic conversation like this one, did you? It seems everybody is bored right now."
"Nope and yup," Wil answered. Priscilla had decided to try reciting the Thunder spell, just to make sure she had remembered it. She wasn't even going to attempt trying to learn the wrist movements or the stances yet; she was still a level seventeen troubadour, for crying out loud, but when Erk was giving her a short review, he had thought it convenient if she got a head start. Heath had fallen asleep, and Legault was humming a lullaby that quickly drove Lucius and Wil crazy.
In the cell next to Lucius's, somebody yawned. Wil and Lucius looked over at it half-heartedly, already knowing who it was. "Rise and shine, Serra," Lucius commented.
Serra groaned. "Ooh, I've got cramps everywhere, and... ick! Was I sleeping on the ground? Yuck! This isn't a way to treat a delicate beauty like me!"
Many people sighed at Serra's normality. Serra crossed her arms and did a daily "Humph!" Then got right to business, which was not like her. "Oh! Lucius, I picked up your Aura book. You dropped it when they hit you, and I hid it, just in case they were going to disarm you." She reached behind her scarf and pulled out the tome.
"My Aura book?" Lucius smiled. "Thank you, Serra..." The cleric handed the book to him, and he opened the front cover, looking at what was written on the inside cover.
For Lucius; With Love From Raven
Lucius's smile widened, but in a sad sort of way. "L... lord Raymond gave me this..." He closed the book and hugged it close, careful not to wet it with tears. Wil and Serra looked at him sympathetically.
"That's why you were so worried about losing it," Wil nodded. "Yeah, I guess I would have been like that if..."
He stopped talking, and Serra leaned as close to Wil's cage as she could get. "If...?" She asked, smiling widely.
Wil glared at her in mock anger. "Oh, you be quiet. It's none of your business." He made a slapping motion in Serra's direction and fiddled with his Longbow. "Well, since everyone's weapon has been given to them by someone they care too much about," he looked over at Serra, "Did your Erky give you that Heal staff?"
Serra blinked. "Erky...?" She scratched her chin, looking like she was thinking hard. "Who's that...?"
Wil shook his head. "You know, your nickname for Erk. You always call him that, everyone in the castle hears when you do." The archer winced at the memory of Serra's loud voice. "Come on, stop playing dumb."
Serra shrugged. "Okay... whoever you're talking about."
"... You know, Serra, you're really bad at playing dumb."
The pink-haired cleric looked insulted. "Hey, no I'm not! Stop insulting me, Nino!"
"Eep!" Said the voice. Then, a few moments later, the same voice spoke again, except several octaves lower. "Um, I mean, I'm not Nino. I'm Unc- um, I mean, I'm Legault."
"Very funny, Nino," said the real Legault. "I'm right here."
"I know," sighed Nino in defeat, using her own voice. She jumped down from the top of the bars and landed next to Legault and Heath, startling the thief. "I have been spying on you long before you woke up." Then she offered an innocent smile to expand her life span.
Legault growled. "I would like to know why you would spy on me, how the hell you're able to spy on a bloody thief, and why you're in my cell and not your own."
Nino's eyes rolled up to the top of the cell, thinking. "Hmm... Well, I like to spy on you because it's fun, and I was able to get into your cell because of that gap over there." She pointed, and Legault squinted at the direction she was pointing at. It was a small gap in the bars, where some very strong prisoner must have bent in frustration or in a foolish attempt at escape. "It was a big squeeze, but I was able to get from my cell to your cell."
Legault nodded. "You still haven't answered my second question." He leaned over at her and glared. "How the hell are you able to spy on a bloody thief?" He repeated, to ensure clarification.
Nino held up her hands and grinned. "Sorry, confidential information, but you'll thank me later." She scrambled back into her own cell and smiled innocently again, causing Legault to growl in frustration.
It was a good think that Nino had gotten back to her cell, too, because at the moment the door opened. Wil stopped bickering with Serra, Lucius looked stopped trying to resolve their conflict, Priscilla stopped reciting the Thunder spell, Heath woke up, Legault stopped growling, and Nino kept smiling. Her smile didn't last long, though, because she recognized the person who walked through. "You," she spat venomously.
The assassin that walked through the door looked toward her direction, eyes widening. "Oh, it's you, that young mage," he said. "I'm sorry I strangled you; are you okay?" He shifted the weight of whatever he was carrying over his shoulder. It was hard to tell what it was, because it was covered in a blanket. Lucius looked over at Nino and mouthed something that looked like, 'He strangled you?'
Nino nodded, glaring at the assassin. "I was being friendly to him, and he grabbed me by the neck." She rubbed her neck, which was starting to get sore just from looking at the assassin. "I don't think it'll matter to you, but I was fine before you came in."
The assassin nodded, ignoring the last four words. "That's good to know." He took out a key from his belt, unlocked a cell next to Wil's, and gently dumped whatever he was carrying from his shoulder to the cell. He unrolled the blanket and took out a pillow, a set of clothing, and a sword case with a sword which handle didn't match.
He walked out of the cell and locked it again before going over to Nino's cell. "Hey, I'm really sorry, it's just something I had to do. I would have been gentler if I could, but... all the other methods I could think of were probably worse." He motioned over to the cell he had just unloaded in. "I didn't make you bleed into unconsciousness, like Cylt did to that poor guy. Cylt's just a polite sadist." He reached a hand through the bars and smiled. "I already introduced myself to you, but I don't think you heard me that time. I'm Scourge. What's your name?"
Nino glared at his hand, resisting the temptation to just pull it in and set it on fire. "I'm Nino," she answered bluntly.
Scourge nodded. "Nino, got it. Don't worry; we are not going to kill you. We've let you keep your weapons, although we didn't have an extra Light tome for your monk friend," he looked toward Lucius. "Sorry."
Lucius shrugged. "It's okay, I got my book back anyway."
Scourge nodded again and turned back toward Nino. "I'll come back and bring you all dinner in a few minutes, okay?"
The assassin walked out the door and shut it. Nino snorted. "Dinner, ha. Probably just some stale bread and dirty water."
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Scourge rushed into the kitchens, startling the myrmidon and bishop that were cooking in it. "Hey, could we have a buffet today? Just, you know, to celebrate the successful launch of Phase One of Mistress's plan."
Cylt looked at Mint, who shrugged. "That's fine," Mint agreed. "It sounds like a nice idea; besides, I'm a little tired from all that excitement today. It would be nice to have a big, tasty dinner."
Cylt took out a cookbook from the shelf next to the oven and flipped through it. "I wouldn't mind cooking a little more than usual; the recipes here are so easy and fun." He stopped on several pages, licking his lips. "And delicious."
Scourge smiled and nodded. "Yes... and its free time, right? Like usual?"
Mint poked Scourge in the bellybutton with the handle of a ladle. "Obviously. It's not like much has changed. You can eat in any part of the castle."
Scourge nodded faster. "Of course. Thank you!"
Mint tapped the ladle against a pot, which was currently brewing a stew. "Hmm... what about the victims? What will they eat?"
Cylt motioned over to a basket. "I can feed them. It's all the bread I found left over from yesterday's breakfast. As for what they drink, they can have something from that pitcher." He pointed to the pitcher next to the basket of bread.
Scourge was still nodding, but not as eagerly as before. "Okay. Glad you have that taken care of. I can't wait until dinner!" He smiled cheerfully and waved. "Well... see you two later, I guess."
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Okay, I think I'll stop it there. I know Serra, Lucius, Nino, Rath, Legault, Heath, Priscilla, Wil, Eliwood, Jaffar, Ninian, and Nils were out of character in this chapter, and I'm sorry! (Boo hoo hoo) The next chapter is going to start with where the eight 'victims' are, unless I get another inspiration attack and decide to write about the castle where everyone else is. I don't think this will end up with Eliwood/Ninian, but it probably will have some one sided Ninian/Eliwood.
A note: I will be gone from July 3rd, 2004 and will probably be missing for about a week, so don't expect a snappy three-day update (like on chapter four).
Amethyst Bubble hasn't updated yet! (At least, not when I'm typing this.) That's okay; once again, if you haven't read 'The Troubles of Matchmaking', please do so, and if you have read it already, please go read RianneHime's new story, 'The Case of the Stolen Heart'. It's only got about three reviews, and I really think it deserves more. It's a great story, with the same humor, great quality, and advanced vocabulary that makes me shrink away. You see, my vocabulary stinks, and that's just another thing I envy RianneHime for. GO READ HER STORY.
Oh, and please review. (Smiles) I can't say I'd be sitting around waiting for them (because I'll be camping somewhere), but I'll still love reading them when I get back. I'll go work on that one-shot now.