Mark found the room to be spinning as he raised his sixth mug of poorly made ale to the sky.

"To Dorcas!" he shouted, slurring his words and emphasizing the wrong syllables.

"To Dorcas!" Bartre shouted, still in full control of his senses. Together the two downed their glasses and slammed then onto the bar. Mark hiccuped as he laid himself against the bar's countertop, appreciating the cool feeling on his flushed cheeks.

"He alwaysh… he alwaysh was there for me in his own way." Mark began. Bartre sniffled and nodded sagely, letting Mark continue. "He… he almost killed me when we first met- hey." Mark nearly fell out of his chair as he poked Bartre in his bulging biceps. "Di-Did I ever tell you that he almost killed me when we first met?" Mark mumbled.

Bartre nodded again. "Yes. This would be the third time you've told me since we began."

"That's because I was scared for my life." Mark said gravely. "...Who is…" he paused, thinking, and corrected himself. "How is Natalie these days? Is she ok? Oh St. Elmine I never even thought of her since Dorcas died. I should've… sent a mail. A letter." Mark felt his hand slap lightly onto his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Natalie deserved better than never knowing where her husband went. Surely by now she knew.

Bartre scratched at his chin as he ordered two more mugs. "She's doin alright, all things considered. I've been sending her a little extra money as I come across it. Basically every penny I have, poor girl." He said. At this the bartender raised an eyebrow, arriving with the drinks, but Bartre gave him a thumbs up and held up a sack of coins to prove he was able to pay. The bartender sighed and placed the drinks on the counter. Mark wasted no time grabbing on and raising it, keeping his head on the wood.

"To… to Dorcash!" He shouted, downing his mug. Bartre followed suit.

"You know, I just wanted to show you a good time since you looked so sorry for yourself. Didn't even know you knew the man too. Guess you were also wrapped in that whole Caelin thing last year." Bartre stated ineloquently.

Mark raised himself back into a seated position, his cheek red from laying on the bar and from about five drinks too many. "Wrapped up? Oh Bartre." He said sarcastically. He hopped out of his seat and stumbled a little as he struck a pose, lighting a hand on fire above him. "I was… I was more than wrapped, I was entwined." He said dramatically.

Bartre cocked his head to the side. "...Entwined?"

Mark nodded seriously. "Yes my new Dorcas-like friend, I was… I was the brains! The mind behind the madness!" He pointed at the bartender. "I took over a castle with twelve people you know! A-And only one of them actually died. How about THAT!" He said. The bartender just gave him a flat look and got back to washing glasses.

Bartre was deep in thought. "Wait but… if you were that good why did Dorcas die?"

Mark sat back down sadly. "I was sad that day and I had the day off. I don't know why they even went after that stupid ring… two deaths for a piece of jewelry." Mark said, swimming a finger in his empty mug.

Bartre slapped him hard on the back, sending his face into the bar's counter. Mark inhaled sharply and gripped his forehead as he shot an angry look at Bartre.

"H-Hey what's the big… what the hell!" He shouted.

"Took a day off because you were sad!?" Bartre shouted back. "Boo hoo! We're warriors Mark, we don't get sad! We flaunt our stuff until we die! There's no time to be sad about anything! Gah this is why I took you here in the first place."

"Sh-Shuddup, you just don't get it. Besides, aren't we drinking to… to be sad about Dorcas? He died a year ago today, you know!"
"Of course I know that you little wimp, I'm the one who told you! The difference is, I'm drinking to celebrate his life, you're drinkin to mourn it." Bartre said, turning himself back towards the counter. Mark paused, his drunk brain trying to process what Bartre was saying.

"...I don't get it." He finally said.

Bartre scowled. "You gotta loosen up Mark. You just need to get a good fight in, come on, let's go a round, you and me." Bartre stood up, grabbing Mark by the collar and placing the coin bag he showed earlier on the bar. "Here's your pay, should cover us both." The bartender waved, relieved that the two loudest people in his bar were finally leaving. Bartre dragged a barely coherent Mark into the harsh sun outside the bar.

Mark squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the bright light. Blinking, he stared up at Bartre who hoisted him to his feet. Almost immediately he fell forward back into Bartre, who groaned and straightened him back up.

"Come on kid, you're really that hammered already?" Bartre said disappointedly. Mark's blurry vision saw the outline of a buff man, and suddenly he was thinking of his father. Would his father be disappointed in his inability to hold his ale? Mark grimly realized he would. Elmine, could he do anything right? Mark sniffled as the tears started coming.

"I'm sorry…" He said, doing his best not to let the dams break.

Bartre rolled his eyes. "That answers that question." He said. The bar was situated on a slight hill, and served as an inn midway between the village Mark had passed through before, and Pherae Castle. Bartre held a hand above his eyes as he surveyed the fields below them, his eyes squinting. "Hey…"

Mark lazily looked over at him, swaying. "Hm? Whaaaaat's up?" He said. Was he always this sleepy? He slept fine the night before, he thought.

Bartre grinned at him. "Hey, we don't gotta slug each other, there's a fight breakin out!"

Mark sighed in relief that he wouldn't have his neck snapped by his new friend. "Oh thank goodness. …Goddess?" Mark pondered whether he said the phrase right as he heard the sound of a horse approaching. He squinted down the hill and saw two men riding towards them, one in bright orange armor and one with blue armor and a mop of red hair.

Mark and Bartre waited for them to arrive. Bartre held his weapon in anticipation of a duel, but Mark mostly focused on not falling down again. If he rolled down the hill he probably wouldn't be able to get up again. The men arrived without ceremony as the man on the back, the one in blue, hopped off the horse and approached Mark.

"It really is you-!" The man said excitedly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Mark recognized the voice. Oh well.

"I am NOT the Mage General of Et… Etruriiiiaa." Mark said. Was his country's name always that hard to pronounce? He tried to think about it as the man got closer.

"Mark, don't you recognize me? It's Eliwood! We met while you were escorting Lyndis to Caelin!" the man said.

Mark squinted at the presence, slowly making out some defining features. A distinct rapier at his side. A small gold circlet around his head. A royal blue cape attached to his shoulders. Mark squinted harder. Really it could be anyone. No reason for Eliwood to be here anyway, he should be at the castle.

Mark nodded as though he had solved the puzzle. "Sorry," he said, "Eliwood is at the castle."

Eliwood stopped in his tracks and let his arm, outstretched to embrace his acquaintance, fall to his side. He raised an eyebrow as he watched Mark sway slightly in the wind. He turned to Bartre. "Is… he alright?"

Bartre eyed Eliwood suspiciously. "...Just had one too many to drink. Besides, I think you got the wrong guy. This fella doesn't want anyone to know he's the Mage General of Etruria!" Bartre shouted, for all to hear. There was silence for a few seconds as Bartre processed what he just said before he smacked himself in the forehead with his palm. "...Sorry kid."

Mark shook his head from side to side. "No, do not be. The fault is my own." He said, defaulting back into his noble accent and manners. "Please my good friend, forget what you heard. I am but a humble scho-" Mark suddenly lurched to his side as his stomach emptied its contents onto the inn' lawn. Eliwood stood in stunned silence.

"...I was going to ask you for help, but perhaps you could use mine instead. Do you need to rest at the castle, Mark?" He said, concerned and placing a hand on Mark's back.

"...Aherm." The man in orange armor finally spoke up. Mark could barely see, but with the sun behind him the orange paladin cast a long and thick shadow. Mark was instantly intimidated. "Sir, the bandits will not wait for us to have this conversation. Perhaps we can leave the Mage General here for now, and rejoin the fray?"

Bartre finally caught up enough in the conversation to strap his axe to his back and kneel in front of Eliwood. "Milord, if it pleases you, I will fight for your cause. For money." He said with practiced pacing. Eliwood sighed and shook his head.

"I was so excited to see him, too…" he trailed off. Sighing, he hopped back onto the orange knight's horse. "Very well, what is your name? Help us drive these bandits from Pherae land and I will gladly pay you for your efforts." Eliwood said.

Bartre grinned broadly as he stood. "Great! I won't have to fill coin bags with rocks anymore to fool bartenders. The name's Bartre! I'll meet you down there!" Bartre wasted no time taking his weapon back in hand, letting out a battle cry worthy of the insane, and charging down the hill.

Eliwood watched him go before sadly turning his attention back to Mark. The mighty Mage General was slowly looking through his pack for something, with little success. A small portion of vomit clung to his chin, before a thought seemed to occur to him and he reached into his coat pocket pulling out a sword and a fire tome.

"...Mark, perhaps you should rest here. It is not a crucial fight, just routine banditry. Besides, I have a proposition I would like to ask you, at a time when you aren't… um, predisposed." Eliwood put it politely. Mark processed the words before nodding his head and putting his weapons away.

"Did… did you know Dorcash tried to kill me when we met?" He said groggily, kneeling to the ground and pulling his pack towards his head to use as a pillow. Eliwood sighed and looked at his friend pityingly.

"...Let's go, Marcus." He said. Together the two rode down the hill as Mark began to snore.

When he awoke, Mark was no longer in front of the inn. His eyes cracked open as he stared at the starry sky. He sat up only for his head to immediately pound for his efforts and he quickly laid back down, groaning. Despite most of it being a blur, Mark slowly recalled more and more of what happened over the course of the day. After finding Bartre and learning that it was the anniversary of Dorcas' death, the two immediately set about drinking. Mark sighed as he slowly pieced together what a fool he made of himself, but it was nothing compared to how he acted in front of Eliwood, who he had been on his way to see in the first place. Mark pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt his stomach church from a mix of hunger, too much alcohol, and embarrassment. As he continued to reflect on the day, the thing that annoyed him the most was that if today was the one year anniversary of Dorcas' death, then it was Rath's too, and Mark never even raised him a glass. Mark scowled at himself and forced himself into a sitting position.

He was in a field, one he was pretty sure he had passed on his way to Pherae, which means he headed back in the direction he had come. In the center of his vision was a small campfire, reminiscent of the size he and the knights would make before Lyndis' Legion began to fill more and more. Slowly Mark took in the people surrounding the fire.

Eliwood was standing with the orange knight from his memory, who Mark was pretty sure Eliwood had called Marcus. Eliwood was chatting with Marcus with a serious expression on his face, holding a hushed conversation. Mark internally cringed at his behavior earlier in the day but quickly tried to move on. He would need to apologize when he made the fact he was awake known.

Bartre was happily roasting a rabbit over the fire. Mark's new friend was boisterous to a fault, but Mark couldn't help but find him somewhat endearing. Having only known him for a few hours, Mark was surprised at the man's ability to put him at ease, even if that ease involved pastimes Mark really shouldn't be indulging in quite at that level. His straightforward nature was a welcome change of pace. Mark would have to give him that duel some time, as a thank you.

Looking off to the side, two more people were sitting on a log by the fire. One was someone Mark felt he recognized. Taking a minute or two to place her, he finally recognized her as the girl who walked up to him in the village, asking about her brother. Mark felt a bit of sympathy for this fellow sibling, far away from wherever he other sibling could be. She had long dark green hair tied under a headpiece into two pigtails, each braided. A bow was strung over her shoulder and she seemed to be giving Bartre instruction on how to cook the rabbit. From her confidence, Mark guessed she was a hunter.

Sitting next to her was a knight, wearing armor Mark recognized as identical to Kent and Sain's. Assuming he was also a horseback cavalier, Mark observed as the man quietly stared at the fire. Well, Mark at least assumed that's where he was staring, as the man's mid-length hair covered most of his eyesight. Mark couldn't help but note that decision must be impacting the man's fighting style. As far as Mark could tell, the man seemed more like a Kent than a Sain, appearing calm and somewhat reserved.

"Oh, Mark! You've finally awoken." Eliwood was walking towards him, followed close by Marcus. With that declaration, the entire camp was now looking at him. Mark gulped and forced a smile.

"H-Hello, everyone. Good to uh… meet you." He said, trying not to blush thinking about his first impression with this crowd.

"Feeling any better?" The cavalier said politely.

Mark nodded. "Much. I assume that is thanks to all of you."

"Don't mention it." Bartre said, flexing a muscle. "You're light as a feather to me!"

You didn't put me on the back of a horse…? Mark thought before deciding not to dwell on the details. He bowed a head towards Eliwood.

"Lord Eliwood, I just want to apologize for my state when you found me, I was-"

Eliwood waved a hand dismissively and smiled. "Please, think nothing of it. Bartre filled me in. In fact, we raised a glass to Dorcas and Rath a moment ago. I remember little of them, but we did meet. They fought for Ninian's ring."

Mark blinked as he had almost forgotten that event happened shortly after Eliwood began traveling with Lyndis' Legion. Come to think of it, Eliwood had been the one who originally found Ninian hadn't he? Mark had… well, Mark had run away as he recalled. Ursula had just exposed him as Mage General of Etruria.

"I see. Well I'm glad I won't need to explain myself too much." Mark said, feeling slightly better. A thought nagged at the back of his mind. "...Did you ever find Nils or Ninian?"

Eliwood frowned slightly as he curtly shook his head. "No. Our spies never found anything about where they went. I can only hope the Fang never got them." Eliwood said, placing a bit of extra venom on the Fang's name. Mark awkwardly looked away. Afterall, his sister was now a big name in that very group.

"Hopefully not." Mark agreed.

"However, we can dwell on that another time. I have something I wish to ask of you Mark." Eliwood said seriously. Mark could guess what the request could be, even if he didn't know the details. Silently he gestured for Eliwood to continue. He nodded. "Some time ago, my father, Lord Elbert, left for a meeting at Laus castle and never returned. All other Marquesses that attended the meeting returned home safely, yet father is nowhere to be found. We march for Laus in an attempt to discover what happened to him. I know your circumstances are not exactly ideal, and if my understanding is correct you recently… escaped again." Eliwood said, awkwardly, failing to find a better one. Mark didn't mind. It was the truth. "So I would understand if you didn't want to help. However, it would mean a great deal to me if you would help us out as our tactician, as you did for Lyndis. I know you have little stake in the matter, but…" Eliwood let his sentence trail off as he looked at Mark pleadingly. Mark could sense the young man's hope, as well as his respect for Mark's abilities.

However, all Mark could think about was his return to his home, where his father revealed his entire time abroad was nothing other than exactly what his father wanted. Every tiny detail planned out as though it were just another mission, and Mark fell for it without a shred of doubt in his mind about what he was doing. He thought back to how the guards gave minimal resistance to his escape once he was at the city border on his most recent escape, barely a week prior. Clearly, something big was happening in Lycia again. Marquesses don't just disappear. No, without a doubt something bad had happened to Eliwood's father. Mark got the sense that he knew this already, which made him all the more desperate for Mark's ability. Mark opened his mouth to speak but found himself unable, slowly closing it again as he stared sadly at the ground. He wanted to help, but he couldn't shake the feeling that his father wanted him to help too, and the thought froze him in place, paralyzing him with fear.

Eliwood saw the emotion on Mark's face and his expression softened. "You do not need to give an answer right now. Please, take your time to consider everything. Like I said, I know your situation is a unique one. I can't ask you to put yourself so at risk for something that doesn't concern you. I just…" Eliwood began but stopped himself and smiled. "Well, it doesn't matter. You had something you wished to ask me right? Bartre said you were on your way to castle Pherae."

Mark paused for a moment and nodded his head. He still had quite the headache from his hangover. His least favorite thing in the world. "Yes," he said plainly, "I wished to write letters to everyone and let them know I've escaped again. I was hoping you had their contacts."

Eliwood raised an eyebrow. "Well, I have most of them, but why not ask Lyndis? You had to have passed Caelin on the way to Pherae, correct?"

Mark looked away bitterly, ashamed at his cowardice still. Yet, everytime he thought that, his mind would flash to that damned forest, rain, and a mop of purple hair against his chest. He sighed shakily.

That was all Eliwood needed as he slowly nodded in understanding. "...I see. Well, I will give them to you. Please, though, I beg of you to think on my request. Perhaps you can just travel with us for now, as you ponder it?"

Mark could hear the slight desperation in his voice. Eliwood was incredibly worried for his father's safety. If the situation was something Mark's father wanted him to be involved in, Mark could only imagine that Eliwood was right to assume the worst.

"...I'd love to, honestly." Mark said. "Besides, I have nowhere else to be right now."

A/N
Hey there, miss me? You may not believe me but me too.

Things have uh, been busy to say the least. I thought about abandoning this story completely more than a few times (I guess I kinda did for a while here huh) but in the end I really do think I wanna continue it. I don't really have excuses or anything I just… haven't done it. Idk. However, here's a couple things I wanna say.

This chapter was always supposed to have a funny beginning, but I'm glad we get to start fresh here on a somewhat light note. I've spent the last few days reading over everything I wrote previously and there's more than a few things I'd change around if I conceived the story now. I wouldn't have done Rath dirty like that (sorry buddy) for example. Man really only had like two scenes. I don't think he ever even talked to Mark. Pointless death from a writing perspective. That being said, I'm not changing anything or even going back and re-writing into my more modern/up to date style. Obviously I'm a very different (and I like to think more capable) writer than when I started this story 5 years ago (holy shit right?) and I hope this chapter reflects that a bit. I think it's a bit cleaner, a bit more fun/flowy, less recycled words so close together etc. Well, that's what I hope anyway. I haven't had to write these characters in over a year so let me know what you think. Is Mark still the insecure but hopefully loveable dork as the previous chapters? Whatever you guys think is always appreciated.

I guess all this is to say that yeah, I'm back. I won't take a year to update again. A month? Maybe, but not a year. Things have just been busy and something had to give, but I think I'm finally at a point where maybe I can give this project some love while I work on my real life work and other passion projects. Anyway, the moral of the story, I know it's been a long while, but I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter. At the end of the day, that's all that really matters. I didn't proofread basically any of this because it's 5 am. Forgive me, and I hope you're excited about finally, FINALLY hopping into the main meat of the game/this story. Plenty of original twists/plot threads coming along too. Hearts, cheers, and thank you if you're new or here after all these years.

-Matt