Author's Corner:

As clarification, Nergal does appear at the very end of the Shrine of Seals mission in-game and snatches away Ninian. I merely decided to change the sequence of occurrences. Originally, I had found it odd that Nergal, with his all-encompassing 'wisdom' would venture off and chance a kidnapping with both Brammimond and Athos present, hence the reasoning for my little edit.

Hammer of Terrascars – Chapter 21

Eye of the Storm

July 2nd, near evening, within the Shrine of Seals,

"Are you certain that the wyvern hag we left behind will cause no problems?" Hector asked as the five comrades followed the Archsage through a winding maze of tunnels and rooms.

After the barely-averted catastrophe that ultimately resulted in the loss of Ninian, Eliwood had remained disturbingly quiet, only managing to trail Athos' footsteps. Immediately behind him were the two tacticians, with Hector and Lyn bringing up the rear. Having been warned by Athos that they were treading upon holy ground, the group had respectfully sheathed their weapons and spoke no louder than whispers.

"She was completely subdued," Cecilia lied. What he doesn't know, won't hurt him, she thought, there's no need to tell him that she's currently a raging lynx prowling around in that tent.

Lyn smirked slightly at that comment, but didn't reveal Cecilia's facade, "There's a competent guard around her, Hector. Even if she managed to break free, her wyvern is bound so completely that no single person could unbind it."

Mark, like Eliwood, remained silent, but for an altogether different reason. Somewhere from this shrine, a rather peculiar smell was steadily growing stronger. Odd, the tactician mused, this is undoubtedly an odor from something that is long…

"Who desecrates my sanctuary?"

A pregnant silence over the group as a cloaked man emerged from the opposite shadows. His face was obscured by an overhanging hood that held a golden circlet atop the cloth.

"Friends," Athos answered calmly, "It has been a long time, Brammimond."

"And why do you disturb my rest, Athos? Long has it been since we have parted company."

"We come seeking the inheritance that Roland and Durban left behind when they finished their labors," Athos replied.

Brammimond paused, "What use would the Archsage have of those items? Is the Scouring not finished? Do dragons threaten Elibe already?"

"They might if we sit here talking," Hector said impatiently, "In order to stop Nergal from opening the Dragon's Gate, the old geezer here said you could help!"

"Please," Eliwood said at length, "For Ninian's sake…"

"Dragon's Gate?" Brammimond ignored their voices, choosing only to speak towards Athos, "The ignorant worm fails to comprehend his very desire is at his very doorstep. What is he doing in Valor?"

Lyn and Cecilia both started while Mark raised an eyebrow. "His voice," Lyn stammered, "How can this be…?"

"Brammimond has no sense of self," Athos explained, "His voices and personality changes to reflect whoever is speaking to him."

"Regardless, we need your assistance," Eliwood pleaded, "Lord Athos spoke earlier of the Divine Weapons of the Eight Heroes. Without them, we cannot prevail against Nergal!"

"Foolish mortals, what do you know of their power? With your pathetic knowledge, you could very well unleash the second…"

"Enough!" Athos raised his voice, "They do not need to know the sins we committed, Brammimond!"

"Sins?" The lords asked.

"Hush," Mark raised a hand, "That is beyond our level of comprehension."

Brammimond turned his hood towards the tactician, "So I see a Valshannar survives to this day. You may still play a part in the coming trials and the end of this age, albeit in a form you never dreamed possible."

"Brammimond…" Athos began.

"Why ask for Blazing Sword of Roland when there exists a far greater weapon in this very shrine?" Brammimond turned back towards Athos, "The might of Exaccus far exceeds the strength of the Durandal."

"The Sword of Seals is fated to be wielded by another," Athos responded, "Both of us have foreseen that fact, so why waste breath on it?"

Brammimond muttered a few words and the entire cavern was illuminated in a shimmering light. "It is done. Now trouble me no more."

Athos nodded before waving his staff and beginning the teleportation ritual. In front of them, Brammimond slowly turned around and shuffled away. Though the five behind him seemed reinvigorated and encouraged by the success of their interview, Athos remained troubled.

Brammimond was always the most mysterious of the Eight, the wizened Archsage thought, but he never does something without purpose. Originally, when we invited him to join our ranks, Brammimond was the most reluctant to play the role of a savior. How does the battle against Nergal figure into his plans?

As the intruders left his humble abode, Brammimond nodded slightly. This Nergal is quite amusing. He discards the target easily within reach and prefers to stretch out his arms towards Valor. However, the opportunity to correct Hartmut's mercy is not yet ripened at this moment. I'll play along with Athos' plans for now…

"Now that the seals are removed," Athos said, "We can safely recover the Durandal and Armads."

"The Blazing Sword and the Thunder Ax," Eliwood murmured.

The small group had made their way back to the base encampment. Spread out in a semi-circle around the hard-fought shrine, the army was largely recuperating from their strenuous battle earlier in the day. Buoyed by the flush of victory, it hardly needs to be said that morale was high and the atmosphere was positively electric. It must be owned that the stratagems and worries of the commanders had little to no place in a soldier's heart. In an average army, only the commander dwelt upon the impossibilities and challenges that awaited each task, while the rank and file soldier merely carried out orders. Since this army was quite a closely knit organization, its members shared the woes of their lords, but not necessarily in their entirety. They may be prone to think about the threat that Nergal poses, but hardly any more than that.

That was, in the honest opinions of Mark and Cecilia, a good thing. When only a small minority in the army holds all the cards in their hands, the majority can be spared the despair or grief that grasps the hearts of the leaders. The upcoming battles will be difficult enough, and complicating things would only thrust more obstacles into their path.

"But how are we to retrieve these two weapons?" Hector asked, "Granted, Roland was the founder of the Lycian League and the first lord of Ostia, but Armads…"

"The Berserker Durban hailed from the Western Isles," Mark said softly, "Within its network of caves, you'll undoubtedly find the Armads."

"That would be unnecessary," Athos said, "Since I'll be showing you its location. However," he raised a hand against the optimistic faces around him, "I will not accompany you in its retrieval. Ancient spirits of the Hero's vassals and comrades guard their treasures, and that shall be your final test."

"Bringing the entire army would not be beneficial," Cecilia said, "Too many people in a crowded environment would endanger allies more than enemies."

"That's true," Lyn replied, "Hector, Eliwood, and I are honor bound to attempt this quest, but the army…"

"The army," Mark replied, "Should make haste towards Ostia. While the lords and Archsage Athos begin their quest for the Legendary Weapons, Cecilia and I will lead the army back to Ostia. Our final destination being Valor, we can regroup and refit ourselves for the storming of Valor."

"You won't be coming with us?" Lyn asked.

Mark shook his head slowly, "I am not chosen as one who will wield a Legendary Weapon. Besides, this will be more of a test of will and strength rather than of mind. I would not be able to aid you very much." Be warned and take care, Lyn of the Lorca.

Fare thee well, Drake of Etruria, Lyn nodded, "Then let us hasten to the Western Isles."

"We should take Nils with us as well," Eliwood said suddenly, "In case Nergal strikes again when Lord Athos is not with you in the camp."

"Agreed," Hector said, "Beware the talons of Nergal, you two. Now that we've shattered the Black Fang beyond repair, the only possible means he has remaining to him are his morphs."

"We will be safe once we enter Ostia," Cecilia answered, "After all, it is the Unconquered Castle, correct?"

Hector grinned, "We'll see you all in Ostia in roughly a week. Don't exhaust all the larders before we get there, understand?"

Eliwood smiled for the first time that afternoon, "As if that's possible without you, Hector. The gods know how much victuals you can shuffle before you're satisfied."

"What was that?"

Lyn and Cecilia both sighed, "Men…"

Athos chuckled lightly while Mark shook his head, "Sometimes, Lord Athos, I don't believe I know them."

July 7th, near the border between Santaruz and Ostia,

We've made a record time so far, but I daresay that the lords will move across Elibe far quicker than we will. While we snails crawl across the earth, they get to fly through the skies at incredible speeds. Ah, the joys and wonders of teleportation…

Several days ago, my mentor unveiled to me the project he was painstakingly working on for the past few months. The lengthy journals and parchments contained the majority of his knowledge and tactical devices that he had accumulated over the years. Inside his cramped living quarters, a veritable stack of books was steadily growing taller. Mark confessed that he had been keeping the majority of his materials and manuscripts with Merlinus inside several large chests. I briefly wondered if Matthew or Legault might decide to help themselves to some of the journals, but decided against it. Which idiot would tamper with the belongings of someone who could veritably order the nosy busybody's death and carry out the sentence himself without batting an eyelid?

I was also fortunate enough to borrow a few books from Mark's extensive library! After a few moments of thoughtful consideration, he had pulled several gargantuan textbooks for me to mull over. Wait, was he joking when he said that I'd be old and gray by the time I finished them?

"We're approximately half a day's march away from Ostia," Kent said aloud at the head of the small column. Cecilia had proposed a brief respite given their proximity to their destination, a proposal that was heartily agreed upon.

Marcus nodded as he reined in his steed, "Our course has been remarkable throughout this leg of the journey. I scarcely believed we managed to bypass Bern's border patrol so swiftly."

"That credit goes to Sir Mark," Lowen dismounted while pulling out a canteen and passing it around, "Though I must say he ran us ragged those couple of candle marks."

"Point taken," Sain grimaced at the memory, "Yet we did cause a large enough disturbance to entice their attention. It only involved several of us making ridiculous orders and spreading rumors at a dozen different towns."

"I believe you actually got a little carried away there," Kent raised an eyebrow at his boon companion, "Didn't you place an order for a thousand iron swords at Bacdemia?"

"A thousand swords?" Cecilia gasped, nearly dropping the proffered canteen.

Sain grinned cheekily, "Well, I got the point across. That poor blacksmith promptly took off and spread the word that an enemy army was coming this way!"

"I suppose you were indirectly helped by Isadora," Harken joined the conversation, "I recall she arrived before you and let slip rumors regarding a large scale bandit raid on the local towns."

"Tensions are naturally high when the prospect of war looms between two nations. It wasn't too surprising the poor villager acted in such a manner," Marcus frowned, "I sincerely hope that Bern didn't regard this nonexistent attack as a threat originating from Lycia. Although…"

"They'd be quite right in suspecting that!" Sain declared with a laugh.

"What Sir Marcus said should not be treated merely as a joke," a blue-haired cavalier took her place beside Harken, "Bern may retaliate by actively invading Lycia for our little charade!"

"A situation we'd all like to avoid, but thankfully is not within the realm of calculated possibilities."

The assembled group halted their actions and greeted their reinstated leader. Mark nodded briefly and motioned for everyone to remain at ease.

"The rationale behind this move lies in that Bern is physically incapable of launching a warfront at this moment," Mark went on, "Contrary to popular belief, Prince Zephidel's coming-of-age ceremony greatly restrains King Desmond's actions."

"Restrains?" Cecilia asked, "How so?"

Pent and Louise dropped in to answer that question, "Because the coming-of-age ceremony officially designates Prince Zephidel as King Desmond's heir to the throne," Louise supplied.

"Correct," Pent added, "Desmond's popularity and support pales in comparison to the hopes pinned on Zephidel. Should he launch a long and protracted war with Lycia that cannot ensure complete victory…"

"He'd be facing a potential civil war on his hands," Mark finished, "The king is afraid, deadly afraid that Zephidel would ascend the throne before Desmond has finished his reign."

Marcus nodded, "So father and son will be at each other's throats for a while, leaving the rest of Elibe in peace."

Cecilia relaxed at those words, "Then we best make haste to Ostia. A good night's rest without having to keep our weapons at hand would surely do all of us a world of good." Hearing her words, the meeting was adjourned as its members returned to their duties, leaving Pent, Louise, and Mark alone.

"Peace that will not last, I'm afraid," Mark shook his head.

Pent started at those words, "What?"

"It will not matter who prevails over the other," Mark replied in a chilling air, "When yonder dispute has been settled by words or by sword, war will march upon foreign lands."

"Why would Zephidel unleash the armies of Bern upon Elibe?" Louise asked, "None of the countries has caused him any harm."

"And why have the armies of Bern, hailed as the most powerful war machine on the face of Elibe lain dormant through nearly two generations?" Mark replied softly, "What are the kings of Bern saving their frenzied warriors for if not eagerly waiting for the perfect opportunity? Guard the doors of Etruria, Mage General."

Pent laughed, "They will not need my strength to lend aid to their swords. Douglas is faithful and stalwart as you know. Percival, though the youngest Knight General in the history of Etruria, will never suffer a foe to trample our fair homeland."

"Feh," the General of Death snorted, "You do not understand where the blow will fall, and there you will err. Heed my words, the collapse of Etruria will not be achieved by might, missile or magic, but through treachery only."

"Lord Valshannar," Louise said, "In such a dire hour, will you not return to Etruria with us? I'm certain that Lord Pent could arrange the restoration of your name."

Pent shook his head sadly, "Even if I raise my voice, I fear the eyes of Etruria are too blind to see past your history. You have changed, but they…"

Mark chuckled bitterly, "They still remember the butcher's bill, and will never rest until I've resolved that debt of blood."

A shrill cry interrupted the conversation, "Mark!"

The trio turned and beheld Florina crossing the skies at breakneck speed before executing a nimble landing. Spilling from the saddle, the girl was too chocked by tears to speak.

If this is something trivial, I will roast whoever is responsible over a slow fire. Mark sighed inwardly, "What is it?"

"The… The… lords…" Florina stammered through her tears, "L-Lyn and t-the others are already a-at Ostia!"

"What?" Mark glanced in the direction of Ostia before returning his gaze to the Pegasus knight before him, "Impossible, they were supposed to return tomorrow!"

"Did something happen to the lords?" Pent asked.

Mark groaned, "Tell me they didn't fail to retrieve the Legendary Weapons."

"I-It's…" Florina continued, "It's not that…"

"Then what is it?"

"N-Ninian is… d-dead!"

Louise paled, "Nergal…"

"No, it… it was…" Florina stared at her listeners briefly before blurting out, "Lord Eliwood!"

July 7th, sunset at Ostia,

During the last leg of the march to Ostia, Cecilia commented on the decidedly subdued atmosphere that hung like a cloud over the army. It comes as no surprise, I suppose, given that such a close friend was taken from us and by the hand of Lord Eliwood no less! Reports were scant and few in between, and those that did come through were scarcely descriptive of the situation. Another detail that has garnered a significant portion of my attention is the matter of Oswin. Curiously, the closer he draws near to Ostia, the more agitated he becomes. Is it facing Lord Uther, Lord Hector, or a combination of both? Yet what could he possibly be dreading? Oswin has served both faithfully and bravely, so could possibly induce a knight to quiver so?

Mark nearly dropped the journal he was scribbling at when he was tackled by someone the minute he entered Castle Ostia. Quickly turning his head slightly, Mark found a nearly hysterical Lyn with a death grip around his middle and sobbing into his back. The tactician tried to free himself from the embrace that pinned his arms to his sides, but to no avail.

How does she always manage to catch me by surprise? "Lyn…" Mark tried a different tactic, "There are quite a few people watching us."

Lyn loosened her grip, rubbing furiously at her eyes, "I'm sorry, it's just…"

That hurt… "Hush," Mark grimaced as he turned around completely, "It was painful enough to hear it, and witnessing the even would've been ten times worse."

"I'll be OK," Lyn tried to hold back her tears in vain, "But Nils and Eliwood…"

Mark clasped a hand over his eyes and sighed, "Don't tell me Nergal took Nils."

"He almost did," Lyn replied, "He and Lord Athos traded a few blows, with Lord Athos getting the worst of it. The black-hearted fiend then took off, claiming he did not wish to slay an old friend yet."

"Then since Nergal didn't capture Nils," Mark continued with his hand still over his eyes, "I'd suppose Nils is currently in a state of shock and not replying to any form of communication while Lord Eliwood is currently in a state of utter depression that rivals the death of his father."

"Hector is currently trying to revive Eliwood while Lord Athos is watching over Nils," Lyn said, halting when she remembered a previous event, "You're not going to…"

"What? Knock some sense into Lord Eliwood?" Mark shook his head, "Nothing I say or do will shake him from the conviction that he killed the girl he loved with his own two hands. Even if he doesn't condemn himself, one look at Nils is sufficient."

"What the hell do you mean that Lord Uther isn't available?"

The two turned to see an enraged Hector on the verge of strangling a guard. Catching a nod from Mark, several members of the army including Dart, Geitz, Bartre and Dorcas managed to restrain the furious lord.

"Oswin!" Hector roared, "Where are you?"

"Here, milord," the knight replied as he entered the courtyard.

"Where is my brother?" Hector yelled, "Why won't anyone tell me where he is?"

"Lord Uther is seeking recovery from his illness," Oswin replied calmly, "But…"

"Like hell he is!" Hector bit back, "It's been over a month since Matthew saw you receiving a letter from him, and Uther never goes for long without any sort of correspondence."

"Lord Uther is seeking recovery from his illness," Oswin repeated, "But he did leave a letter for you that has been in my keeping for some time." The knight drew forth a tied wooden box, broke the seal, and drew forth a parchment.

The majority of the army had retired for the evening, leaving only Ostian guards and servants in attendance. With a curse, Hector dismissed everyone in the courtyard with the exception of Oswin, Lyn and Mark. Utilizing startling agility for a man of his size, Hector seized the long sought letter and shredded the seal before devouring its contents with his eyes. His face grew pale after reading the first few lines of the epistle before reddening at the end.

With a sigh, Hector turned to the three remaining in the room, "Lyn, Mark, I apologize for such an unseemly behavior for a lord. Oswin, I should have your head on a pike for revealing this to me at such an overdue date, but Uther specifically instructed me in the letter to forgive you for this transgression."

"Lord Hector," a soldier burst into the courtyard, "My apologies for interrupting your conversation, but Lord Athos urgently requests your attendance in the throne room."

"Lyn," Mark said suddenly, "You go on ahead and please inform Lord Athos that Lord Hector and I will be slightly delayed."

"As you wish," Lyn favored him with a smile before quitting the room.

Waiting until Lyn turned the corner, Mark glanced at Hector, "Lord Uther is no longer with us, I suppose?"

"Damn him," Hector said bitterly, "Damn him for not being able to wait until I returned home."

"What are you going to do now?" Mark asked.

Hector grunted, "What do you think? I'm going to introduce Nergal to a friend of mine as a reward for making me miss my brother's final moments."

"Friend?" Oswin was confused.

"His name," Hector's voice dripped acid, "Is Armads."

A few moments later, Hector and Mark arrived to find Athos, Cecilia, Lyn, and Eliwood already waiting for them in Ostia's throne room. Hector spared a wishful glance at the throne as if hoping to get a last glimpse of Uther's spirit before redirecting his attention to Athos.

"Some of you may recall that Nergal made reference to our friendship," Athos started, "In truth, 500 years ago, the two of us had struck a close bond. We studied together with the sages of Arcadia, the last city where humans and dragons dwell in peace."

"Humans and dragons can live alongside one another in harmony?" Cecilia asked.

Athos nodded, "It was done before the Scouring as well, but I digress. Nergal and I both sought a better future for Elibe, but we diverged on the means to approach such a conclusion. While he sought a path to power, I sought the path to peace. In this manner, I benefited from the advantage of surviving since the time of the Scouring and having witnessed the ferocity of its bitterest conflicts. The path to overwhelming might can only be tempered by an equally powerful desire for peace and harmony. When such a balance was achieved, power does not corrupt, but merely supplements its wielder. Nergal did not understand that."

"And the schism occurred," Mark hazarded a guess.

"Correct," Athos said, "We disagreed terribly on this subject, which ultimately ended in his downfall and banishment from Arcadia. Time and time again he has sought to regain the forbidden knowledge inside Arcadia's extensive library, but he only managed to escape with one: the knowledge of quintessence.

"Armed with this, he expanded his abilities with all sorts of creatures across Elibe. The more he absorbed, the more obsessed he became. At length, he sought the most powerful quintessence known to mankind."

"Dragons," Lyn murmured.

"That is correct. To my knowledge, there are no more dragons in Elibe besides those that dwell in Arcadia. Perhaps a few others survived, but Hartmut put paid to the last of the dragons during the final hours of the Scouring. So Nergal was forced to seek elsewhere for a dragon's quintessence. He found that solution at the Dragon's Gate on Valor."

"So all that remains for us to accomplish is to swipe off his ugly head before he can call the dragons," Hector growled, "What's the difficulty in that?"

"Roland and his heirs were always impulsive," Athos smiled, "But I suppose that is why they were never tied down by anything. Indeed, we must…" Athos stiffened, "A dark energy is gathering, a portal may be opened momentarily in this…"

Before Athos had finished speaking, a soldier knocked urgently on the door, "Lord Hector, an unknown enemy has appeared within the castle walls!"

"What of the guards?" Hector roared.

"Still in fierce combat with the intruders," came the answer, "But a small group seems to be headed this way!"

"Rally the defenders, stop them before they…" Hector was interrupted by Mark's negative hand motion, "Mark?"

"Open the double doors leading to the throne room," Mark said calmly, "If he actually wanted to kill us, he should know better than to send a few of his morphs. No, they are here to deliver us a message."

"In that case," Hector said grimly, "It'd be discourteous not to send him a reply."

"I trust you already have a reply ready?" Lyn asked.

Hector patted his ax by his side, "Right here."

The double doors burst open and a sniper walked into the throne room flanked by two gigantic knights. Halting before Hector, the morph delivered his master's message monotonously.

"This is a message from my master Lord Nergal: I shall await you on Val…"

His head hit the ground before the words echoed off the walls.

Hector slammed his ax into the stone floor, "Damn it, Eliwood! As Lord of Ostia, I believe I can answer my own voice mail!"

Eliwood sheathed his sword and fixed Hector with a look, "The other two are yours."

Hector looked at the other two morphs and promptly chopped them to fish bait.

"Now that that's settled," Eliwood said in an icy tone, "I believe we owe their master a gift in terms of sharp blows between the neck and shoulders."

Truly the Sons of Roland, Athos thought, "I will need to collect a few other items for this task. I trust that I will meet you all in front of Dragon's Gate?"

"We'll be waiting for you, old man," Hector promised.

The next day found a grim but determined army prepared for a full scale invasion of Valor. At Hector's behest, servants and guards were sent scuttling for supplies and weaponry from the local armories and storage sheds.

"Uh, Lord Hector," a plump courtier oily asked, "Are you trying to bankrupt Ostia?"

Hector fixed the man with a frosty stare, "Oswin, who is this man?"

"Lord Verain if it pleases you, milord," the courtier replied.

"Well then, Lord Verain," the Lord of Ostia replied, "We are very pleased with your donation of one hundred thousand gold to the war effort. As a reward for your generosity, Sir Oswin here will see to it that you take a lovely swim in the moat. Am I clear, Oswin?"

Moments later, a yelp and resulting splash could be heard from atop the battlements.

"Ah, the glories of pulling rank."

"Aren't you abusing your power a little?" Lyn asked.

"Oswin did mention that I cannot tax the Ostian treasury excessively," Hector pointed out, "So to repay the amount deducted from the castle treasury, I will replenish the loss with extravagant donations from ill-gotten gains of greedy courtiers."

"Milady," Kent reported with a small smirk, "Lyndis' Legions are assembled and ready to depart."

"Well, my group was itching for a fight since this morning," Hector said, "Eliwood, how about your end?"

"I've located everyone save for Bartre," Eliwood said with a frown, "But no one has seen him in the castle!"

"Bartre?" Kent asked, "I think he said that he was going to the local coliseum."

"Impossible," Eliwood stated flatly.

"Err," Kent raised an eyebrow, "Impossible?"

"Bartre can't possibly use the word 'coliseum,'" Eliwood replied with a victorious smile.

Kent laughed, "My apologies, I believe he said the 'arena.'"

"Why? Afraid he won't be able to hit something after this adventure?" Cecilia asked.

"You can ask him," Mark yawned while rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "Since he's coming back in a foul mood over there."

Sure enough, the fighter returned muttering incoherent words underneath his breath. He stopped only to hand Serra a small bag of coins that the cleric immediately pocketed.

Serra smirked like a cat that got the cream, "Serra 23, Bartre 0."

"I'm impressed he actually took more than one blow to knock over," a foreign female voice drifted in, "Though it's more incredible to find my brother in the middle of civilization."

"Karla." Karel nodded, signifying that he acknowledged her presence, "It has been awhile. Are you ready?"

"Ready to die," Karla replied, "For I would never raise my sword against my brother."

Eliwood, Hector, and Lyn heaved a collective sigh of relief. One maniacal, bloodthirsty Sword Demon was enough, and now to discover he had a sister who was a swordswoman raised possibilities neither of them wished to dwell upon. One thing rang through their minds, We had prayed that one of them would be sane, but which one? One kills people as if they were flies, and the other wandered the world seeking death?

"Only one is worthy enough to wield this sword," Karel said as he fingered the katana by his side, "Our parents' blood proved that they were unworthy."

The lords winced. At least we know who's definitely lost contact with his humanity.

"Perhaps I am unworthy as well," Karla replied calmly, "Since I only wanted to see my brother come home."

Karel took his hand off the Wo Dao and turned away, his eyes softening from the harsh granite they usually were. Wordlessly he turned around, with Karla following behind.

"Come," the Sword Demon said, "Let's visit that boyfriend of yours that you soundly whipped in the arena."

"B-b-boyfriend?"

"Home is where thy humanity lies," Eliwood quoted from Elimine's Proverbs.

Mark could hear his conscience laughing bitterly at those words. Home and humanity are two things that I lost many years ago.

Well, I did a 'bit' of arena-abusing in my time playing FE7, and somehow had Bartre 1-hit kill Karla during that chapter in the game… Fortunately it brought her down to 1 hp and I still managed to recruit her! (lol) Ugh, how the heck did I cram four chapters into one? Thank you for reading and drop me a line!