Author's Note- This chapter was originally called "The Cobalt Blade, " but I realized that this could be mistaken for something else, so I replaced it with "The Azure Blade." If this too is something that is from another game, show, etc., please let me know.

Thanks to I-Am-Erk for notifying me.

Disclaimer- I do not own Fire Emblem, nor any related characters, events, etc., except for the few original characters that may, and eventually will appear over the course of the story.

Ewan, Enthusiastic Student

Chapter 2- The Azure Blade

Ewan had left Caer Pelyn in the morning of a bright day early in the summer. He started his journey westward planning to explore the area of the Teraz Plateau, for he had not been there often since joining Eirika's group. From there, the young mage planned on Port Kiris, and then to Ide, where his good friend Ross was residing. What this had to do with gaining knowledge was beyond Ewan himself, but he felt the need to visit one of the friends he made during the War of the Demon King.

"Hehe," Ewan chuckled to himself as he traced his route along the dry soil, using a stick to pinpoint each of his planned stops. "I'm sure Ross would enjoy my company again," he told himself, reminded of the time Ewan stumped the young warrior with philosophical questions.

Looking up at the sky, he could see some gray clouds starting to block the sun. A chill wind blew through the mountainous area, and Ewan shivered. The mage sat down against a large, grey boulder and looked around him. The path he saw looked somewhat bleak, with one large dusty, rocky road. Said path was sandwiched between two rows of mountains, whose crags extended to the sky like towers, with sharp points jutting upwards to the heavens. Along the dirt path were little patches of grass, bright green but sharp like the peaks that towered over it. Seeing this dreary, lonely sight, Ewan sighed.

"I swear, it seemed so much more interesting to travel with Teacher," he told himself. But Ewan knew that complaining about dull scenery was not going to help him on his journey one bit, so he got up and continued to walk towards Port Kiris. Looking more like a disappointed tourist than a studious mage, Ewan seemed to stroll along the dirty path, calmly whistling to himself to pass the time.

After what seemed like an hour or two later, Ewan was still walking towards Port Kiris. He would lean against a mountain every once in a while to rest himself, all while thinking about people he had met during the war. First was Ross, and now on his mind was Amelia, the amiable young soldier from Grado. He fondly recalled how much awe she had in her eyes when he performed some magic tricks for her. To him, it was nothing but sparks and embers; child's play for a mage of his prowess. But to Amelia, such a simple wonder brought out a dazzling smile of awe and surprise. The two had spent some time talking about their homelands and other trivial topics, but Ewan had to admit to himself that she was one of the best friends he had made on that journey.

"Enough reminiscing," he ordered himself, "You're almost to the port anyway. Once you get there, then you could recollect, 'cause you know you won't be in some barren land like this." Somehow, the wonder of seeing these natural landscapes did not spark Ewan's interest as much as it had done when he was younger.

Not until half an hour later did things take an interesting turn. After starting to follow the stony path northwest, Ewan saw a figure sitting back against a mountainous wall. Coming closer, Ewan could see that it was a man, probably in his thirties, wearing a navy blue shirt with its sleeves torn off, and pants of the same color. He wore brown leather boots, and had short, jet-black hair. The man was clutching his stomach with his right hand, as his left arm hung limp to his side.

Expecting the man to be wounded, Ewan rushed to the figure, and fumbling with his robes to retrieve the vulneraries he had. The selfless mage knelt by the man and examined him; his left arm had a few cuts, only one of which was bleeding, and his shirt seemed to be cut in a few places as well. The man half-opened his eyes, as if he had just woken up, and asked in a barely audible voice, "Red? Is that you?" Ewan, however, didn't reply, and gave the vulnerary to the stranger, who took it without question. The man closed his eyes, and seemed to lose consciousness after that, as he wouldn't respond to Ewan gently shaking him. Ewan knew he was still breathing, however, so he sat down against the opposite rocky mountain wall, waiting for the man to recover. Soon, the young mage's eyes began to droop, and he too fell into a deep slumber.

"Hey, kid."

Ewan woke to a start when he was called. Opening his eyes, he saw the blue-clad man standing in front of him, smiling.

"Thanks again for helping a stranger, kid," he said. Still drowsy from being woken up, Ewan looked around him. They were still at the mountains by the Teraz Plateau, and it seemed like the afternoon. A cool breeze refreshed the magic student as he got up and dusted himself off.

"Your welcome," the mage replied, holding back a yawn, "But who are you?"

"Name's Balor," the man told Ewan proudly, "A mercenary." He extended his long left arm to Ewan, surprised how big the man standing in front of him was. Much taller than his teacher, Saleh, he seemed to be the tallest person that Ewan's eyes have ever seen. He had to look up to look face-to-face with the muscular mercenary, but Ewan tried not to make an awkward situation out of it.

"You're a mercenary? That's neat!" Ewan said in excitement; he was reminded greatly of his comrade Gerik, from before the War of the Demon King. He shook Balor's hand with his right hand; the swordsman's hand nearly crushed Ewan's own hand, but the mage managed to hold back a yelp of pain.

"You think I'm neat, huh, kid?" Balor asked. He chuckled as if he had heard those compliments before, and continued, "You're not the only one. People even gave me a nickname because they really think I'm "neat."

"What is it?" Ewan asked, for his curiosity awakened once again.

"The Azure Blade."

There was silence. Ewan seemed to be thinking hard of Balor's title, and he started to burst out in laughter. Looking more amused than insulted, Balor looked questioningly at the laughing Ewan.

"I'm sorry," Ewan apologized, trying to talk and hold in his laughter, "it's just that so many mercenaries have color-based nicknames. It's like a tradition or something." He then took a deep breath, enabling him to talk calmly without laughing. "At least Gerik is the Desert Tiger…"

The mentioning of Gerik's name seemed to spark something in Balor's mind, as he quickly asked, "You know Gerik?"

"Yup, me and my sis traveled with him for some time," Ewan explained.

"Interesting."

Balor didn't seem to want to touch the subject of Gerik anymore, so he changed it immediately.

"Mind if I call you Red?"

Ewan seemed to think about this sudden question. Eventually, he told him, "But my name is Ewan."

"Well, you really remind me of my son, Flynn," Balor said, now in a serious tone instead of a light-hearted one. "He likes magic and has red hair, and, needless to say, has a striking resemblance to you."

Now the young man found himself in an awkward situation, and he tried to choose his responses carefully.

"Of course you can call me Red!" Ewan said, flushing a bit. "Is that his nickname?"

"Yes, it is," Balor started to say, "And as you can see, my whole life seems to revolve around people with color-themed nicknames." And the two laughed heartily together. It was a sight to see, with the minute mage and the towering mercenary sharing the same laughs after meeting each other only minutes ago.

After the merriment ended, Balor walked to the place he woke up from and retrieved his sword. Ewan saw its blade gleam in the sunlight, and from end-to-end, the whole sword seemed to be as tall as Ewan himself. Balor went back to Ewan and asked, "Are you going somewhere, Red?"

Ewan nodded. "To Port Kiris. Don't know where I'll go from there."

Balor rubbed his chin as if in thought, then smiled. "I'm going there as well. My new employer is meeting me there."

Ewan's bright face beamed, "That's great! We can travel together!"

Balor put his hand on Ewan's shoulder, like a father would to his son, and said, "I'd like that. I really would."

The odd couple then started to walk along Ewan's intended path; northwest between the mountains until they reached the port. Even though both stayed silent, they both held a sunny disposition; it was a beautiful day with a shining sun, a cool breeze, and they were in good company.

The two strolled quietly along the mountainous path until finally, ever closer to their destination, Ewan decided to break the silence.

"What happened to you before I came and helped you?"

Balor stopped in his tracks, hesitating before giving Ewan an honest answer. "I was clearing away some bandits hiding nearby. They often terrorized people who came close to their turf. It was an easy job." The mercenary then started to frown. "At least, it was until my sickness kicked in."

"Sickness?"

"Yeah, occasionally I would get these horrible cramps in my stomach. Almost feels like my insides are being punched and kicked around. And if I'm really unlucky, my whole body feels the same pain." Balor sighed in relief before continuing. "At least I wasn't unlucky today, else that wouldn't be a pretty sight, wouldn't it?"

Ewan didn't see how someone could be joking around after describing a situation like that, but Balor continued nonetheless. "I took out a few of them, but I had to retreat. It wasn't easy, but the other mercenaries hired to clear out the bandits saved my behind. Not for my sake, of course, but for their pay."

Immediately, Gerik came to Ewan's mind, not because the Desert Tiger would act in the same insensitive way, but because he was willing to protect those he worked with during the War of the Demon King.

"I fled towards the Teraz Plateau, and that's when I took a rest to recover, and when you came and saved me."

Ewan truly felt sorry for his new friend, and tried to think of a way to help him. "Is there anything you can do about the disease?"

Balor nodded and smiled. "There is, thankfully. Someone in Port Kiris claims to know of a merchant who has a medicine that can cure the disease. Same person claimed its 10,000 gold."

"But how could you afford that?" Ewan asked, almost shouting at Balor. He remembered the small satchel of gold he received before he left, and knew it was nowhere near the amount needed. "What's going to happen to you if you don't take the medicine?"

"Ah, don't worry about me, Red," Balor started to say, "I've lived without it for 35 years, and I intend to continue to live without it. It's a family disease, you know."

"Wait…" A thought popped in Ewan's mind, one that worried both the mage and the mercenary. "If it's a family disease, then that means…"

"Yes. Flynn suffers from the same disease."