Firelight

A/N: Welcome! I guess all I can say is that I hope you enjoy this! For those of you who hunt for pairings, they become evident much farther in, but they are there, I promise. At any rate, read on!

Chapter One: Shadows Descend

"You have to promise me, Tana."

"I can't!"

"You're my best friend." The voice of the Princess of Renais was exactly that, a royal voice. It didn't seem to belong to the Eirika that Tana knew best. "There's no one I can trust with this but you. Please promise me."

Tana sighed. The look in Eirika's eyes was grave. Warm wind blew in through the open door of what remained of Jehanna Hall, blowing the Pegasus knight's hair into her eyes. She pushed it away with one hand, turning her gaze downward.

"What if something happens to me, Eirika? Or worse, to you?"

Eirika made a face. "You're starting to sound like General Seth." She met Tana's eyes again, grinning. "Stop it. You'll be fine. Just stay away from anyone with a bow."

"Like Innes."

"Exactly." They laughed. Eirika had to laugh to herself, too, at the strangeness of it all. There was a battlefield forming outside, and here inside the door of a burning palace, she and her friend were giggling together. It was so completely out of the ordinary…and yet this kind of situation was growing more and more common.

Someone in the doorway cleared his throat. Blushing, Eirika turned around quickly, turning an even brighter pink when she realized it was Innes himself standing in the doorway.

"Are you coming?" he asked shortly. He held his bow in one hand, and an arrow was already ready in the other. "We're nearly surrounded. We're going to have to fight our way through."

Eirika hurried outside, all embarrassment forgotten. Tana followed after her, whistling for Achaeus and practically leaping onto the back of the Pegasus as he landed before her.

Eirika ran until she stood just behind Seth, who was talking quietly with Saleh and Gerik, presumably about strategy. Squinting into the light of the high sun, she could see many, many Grado troops around them. There was a cluster of them near the oasis that rested west of Jehanna Hall, and an even larger group—she was sorely tempted to think battalion—southeast of the ruined palace.

"Princess," Seth said quietly. She noticed he had already drawn his sword. "We are surrounded."

"Innes told me. Any suggestions?" Between the four of them and Innes, they usually worked out a decent strategy. Eirika hated battles, hated fighting, hated killing, but she did too much of all of it not to know something about strategy. They were so close to Ephraim now—only days from the center of the Grado Empire. It frustrated Eirika that they were waylaid, let alone in such an impossible situation as this.

"We could draw them toward us in groups," suggested Gerik, running one hand over his chin thoughtfully. "It would be easier to deal with several small groups than one large one."

"Suppose they don't advance?" asked Saleh. "They're more than capable of waiting us out."

"Seth will feel obligated to point out that he thinks we should do what's safest," Eirika added dryly. "I just saved him the trouble. I see a lot of troops, but it's not like we haven't handled large numbers before. I think we can handle this too." Her hand fell to the hilt of her sword; she both anticipated and dreaded the battle to come. "Someone tell Natasha and L'Arachel to grab extra staves."

"Staffs," offered Saleh quietly.

"I'm never going to win that argument," Eirika returned with a shake of her head. "Find Lute and Artur and tell them to back up the cavaliers, and have Ewan cover Amelia. We'll head south." With a respectful nod, Saleh turned and headed off. "Gerik, take Marisa, Joshua, Dozla and Garcia and move south around the western group. Actually, tell L'Arachel and Rennac to go with you, too, and Tana and Innes. The rest of us will head south for the larger group."

This left Eirika alone with Seth. They looked at each other, and eventually Seth's eyes wandered to Eirika's bracelet. "You shouldn't wear that so openly, Princess. It's far too valuable."

"Seth…" Eirika shook her head. "You never think of anything but my safety. Not even your own."

"You are my first priority, as always, Princess. Your father—"

"King Fado is dead, Seth," she whispered. She might have wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by a cry from behind her and a sudden movement from the troops to the west. Gerik, Innes and Tana all turned to look at her. With a wave toward the advancing line, she shouted, "Go!"

The rest of her allies gathered around her, with Seth to one side and Saleh on the other. Behind her she heard the hooves of Forde and Kyle, and behind them were Lute and Artur, arguing as usual. Natasha and Franz stood to the other side of Seth, and Amelia and Ewan moved close to Saleh. Somewhere behind the quarreling magic wielders were Colm, Neimi, Ross, Vanessa, Gilliam, Tethys and Cormag. Thinking of them all as a group like that, Eirika realized she had quite the small army on her hands.

Something shadowed the sun for a moment. As it passed, Eirika shaded her eyes and watched it land—it was some kind of flying animal. Not a Pegasus…no, it was a wyvern. But surely not Cormag…

Eirika felt her stomach tighten, though she couldn't be certain why. She watched the descending wyvern for a moment longer before her mind caught up with her instincts. It was Valter.

Eirika drew her sword. She hated fighting, but she had seen that vile man send monstrous spiders chasing after an innocent little girl and her family. He had murdered Cormag's brother in cold blood. He had given Seth an injury that bothered him still, refusing to heal. He wanted nothing but power and glory. He was vile. She hated him, more than she hated to fight.

"Let's go," she said to her troops, taking a purposeful step forward. "Nobody touch the wyvern knight. He's mine."

Eirika's sword found its mark, piercing the armor of another of Valter's troops. As the enemy fell, Forde and Kyle raced by on either side of her, lances ready. She got a quick look at them as they passed; Forde was grinning wildly, enjoying himself, and even Kyle was almost smiling.

The other cavaliers they were charging didn't stand a chance. Their complex pattern of turns and weaves almost always threw the enemy entirely off course. They were exact opposites in personality, but they made an excellent team.

Eirika had no more time for contemplation as a line of enemy wyvern riders began to move toward her. Raising her sword, she prepared for the attack.

"Now, Neimi!" At Colm's command, the archer let fly an arrow. It struck home, bringing down one of the wyverns. The rider jumped from his dying mount and landed hard on the ground. Eirika turned to look behind her. Colm stood in front of Neimi, a mischievous fire in his eyes, while from behind him she fired arrow after arrow at the approaching wyverns.

"Princess, look out!" Franz's voice alerted her to the unhorsed wyvern rider, who was charging her with his lance. She ducked out of the way of that initial thrust, but her own return strike was blocked. For several seconds they traded blows, until the sharp point of the lance scored a gash across Eirika's leg. She dropped to one knee, and Colm leapt, diving at the wyvern rider with such speed that the enemy had no time to defend.

Eirika sheathed her sword, realizing that the thief and the archer had it under control. She was almost glad for the respite; all of them had been fighting constantly for nearly an hour. The western group seemed to be nearly done, from what Eirika had been able to tell by squinting through the glare of the desert sun, and she hoped they would be able to rejoin the main group soon. The enemy was constantly calling on reinforcements.

Valter. The thought of his name drove the pain of her gash from her mind. He would pay for the things he had done, and she was going to see to that herself. She rose quickly and hit her knees again just as fast, pain flooding her left leg.

Something landed in the sand beside her, followed by a less heavy something. Franz had dismounted and was holding out his hands to help her up. She took them, pulling herself to her feet and leaning most of her weight against him. The less heavy thing, Natasha, had been riding on the back of Franz's horse. She held out her staff, and it charged with light. The light shifted itself to Eirika, who shifted herself onto both feet again as the gash in her leg closed.

"Thank you," she said with a smile as Franz got back on his horse and pulled Natasha up behind him. "Be careful in all this sand, Franz. Your horse could hurt itself."

"That's why I ride around with Natasha," he replied, grinning. The cleric smiled too, hesitantly. "Besides, Joshua can't carry her on his back." With a wider grin and a little wave, Franz drew his sword again and rode off.

West of Jehanna Hall, Innes and Joshua were working to finish off the strongest members of the western cluster. Observing them, Rennac had to comment to himself that they would probably be done by now if the sniper and the myrmidon would just work together. Instead the forces were split in two, with both myrmidons, Garcia and Gerik on one side, and Innes, his sister, Dozla and Rennac himself on the other. L'Arachel was making trips between the two as she was needed, trying to stay away from their enemies at the same time.

When the two groups finally broke through to each other, only the hero Caellach and his two guardian mages remained. The mages hurried forward, throwing Fire and Thunder spells as they advanced. The myrmidons were fast enough to dodge the spells, and neither anima ability could faze Dozla much. Garcia did his best to avoid them, but he was hit with a double barrage of fire and thrown backwards across the sand. L'Arachel raced after him, and Rennac took the opening to duck beneath a spell and slash right through the spine of the nearest mage's magical tome.

Innes was right behind him, firing off an arrow that dropped the mage himself, but the Prince of Frelia followed him, dropping to the sand as Caellach hit him over the head with his large shield. Rennac knew he couldn't handle Caellach alone. Seeing the other mage nearby, he took off. Better to be roasted a bit and be victorious than to be sliced into tiny pieces and lose. Caellach turned to follow the rogue, but was waylaid by a pair of myrmidons darting around him, moving in with quick strikes and then falling back, out of his reach.

Tana noticed Joshua and Marisa's distractions and took the opportunity, telling Achaeus to bring them low. Raising her lance, Tana waited until she was sure of her aim. When she was close enough, she threw the lance like a javelin. It found the spot between the plates of Caellach's armor and lodged there. Tana didn't even watch him fall—she was kneeling in the sand beside Innes, who was slowly waking up again.

The myrmidons stopped at the exact same time, leaving just enough room between them for L'Arachel to pass as she returned with Garcia. The princess of Rausten looked less than happy to be sharing a ride with the fighter. She dumped him off rather unceremoniously before riding to where Tana and Innes were now standing. The sniper gave her a cold stare.

"Prince Innes!" she said half-breathlessly, holding up her staff with one hand. "Please, allow me—"

"I'm fine." He waved away her offer, stepping away from Tana's hold and picking up his fallen bow. "Tana, get your lance and let's go. I see more reinforcements coming and Eirika is going to need our help."

Tana looked down. Her lance was still stuck through Caellach's armor, and he was dead. She really didn't feel like trying to get it back.

"More reinforcements!" Aside from being singed at the edges, Rennac was the perfect cross between shocked and delicately ill. "This is insane."

"That's what makes it fun, lad," Dozla said with a large grin, lifting his heavy axe with both hands. He looked like he was about to charge. He also looked like he would enjoy a charge immensely.

"Lad?" Rennac asked weakly; Innes had already turned and was striding away, with Joshua and Marisa right behind him. The rest of the rogue's protest died before he could speak it, and Dozla clapped him on the shoulder with one hand before heading off himself, talking animatedly with Garcia.

Recovering from almost sprawling face first into the sand, Rennac cast his glare on L'Arachel, the only person left nearby whom he could reasonably blame for all this. Oblivious to him as always, she only smiled in a decidedly noble-to-commoner way and rode forward. Rolling his eyes, Rennac trudged behind her.

Tana was still staring at her lance. She reached for it, then froze again, just staring at her hand. After a moment, and with a small sigh, she pulled her lance free and got back on Achaeus.

"I hope you knew what you were doing," she muttered as her Pegasus soared skyward.

"I hope you know what you're doing!" It was a playful remark, one designed to make its intended target smile. The battle had been going on for a long time now—it felt like hours.

"I know what I'm doing." Lute's answer was short and matter-of-fact, for Lute. "I have studied extensively. I've read more books on magic than there are enemies in this desert, if you will permit me to be straightforward. I know what you're doing. You're thinking of going after the shaman approaching Forde and Kyle. If you really think you should try, use your most powerful light magic. You don't have the power that I do. I know what—" She was cut short by a kick in the head. Artur, who by now regretted ever trying to make conversation with the mage, hid a sigh of relief as he looked at the cause of Lute's sudden drop.

Tethys covered her satisfied smirk with one hand, attempting to look surprised. "Oops. How clumsy of me." Artur caught himself smirking back, and Tethys laughed, heading back toward where Gerik, Gilliam and Vanessa were handing a wave of mercenaries.

Artur looked down at Lute, stunned in the sand, still conscious but not really aware enough to do more than stare up at the sky. After a long moment, he tried again. "You okay?"

"Mmmm." Lute blinked. Artur couldn't tell if that was a yes, a no, or some sort of intellectual death threat. With a sigh born from guilt, he offered a hand to the younger mage, who took it and pulled herself up.

"Lute?" Artur asked, now more worried that he was about to be flash-fried than that Lute was really hurt. She stared back at him for a very long moment.

"Artur," she said finally. "Hi."

Forde rode by them then, in pursuit of a mounted enemy. Kyle came at the opposing cavalier from the opposite direction, lance ready. Forde had switched his lance for a sword midway through the battle, and was trying to catch up to the enemy before his and Kyle's charge turned into a deadly jousting match.

"Forde!" Kyle yelled, though the red-armored cavalier showed no sign of having heard him. "Fool. He'll get himself skewered!" Kyle urged his horse into a faster charge, hoping to take the onrushing cavalier by surprise.

He was spared the effort as a charging Franz knocked the enemy off his horse. The animal veered wildly to the left, and the rider hit the sand and rolled. Forde, caught up and waving his sword almost wildly, struck the enemy as he tried to get back up. He fell again and did not rise.

Forde halted his charge and grinned at Franz and Kyle. The former grinned back, not afraid to be a bit unprofessional around his older brother. The latter just stared, arms folded.

"Oh, come on, Kyle." Still grinning, the cavalier sheathed his sword. "We have to fight the battle no matter what, let's at least have some fun with it."

"Suddenly it's fun to take lives." Kyle turned and, as much as he could while on horseback, stalked off across the sand. Forde and Franz looked at each other for a moment before Franz rode off to pick up Natasha again. Forde sighed, then turned and rode off in the other direction.

He found Cormag and the little mage whose name he couldn't remember first. The wyvern rider was flying all over the place, dodging arrows fired by an enemy ranger. The little mage, Ewan, was doing his best to help out, but every time he shot a burst of fire at the ranger, he would just ride out of the way and shoot an arrow at Ewan. To his credit, the mage was determinedly ignoring the arrow already sprouting from his left shoulder.

While the ranger took aim at Ewan again, Cormag took advantage of the opening and dove, lance ready. The ranger turned suddenly, and the arrow streaked through the air toward Cormag's wyvern instead. Forde couldn't see where the missile hit, but wyvern and rider were tumbling through the air. They hit the ground hard enough to raise a cloud of dust.
Forde urged his horse into a charge, hoping to get close enough to the ranger to be too close to hit. Ewan was providing a good distraction, though he was slower with every step, and his dodges were more luck than ability.

The ranger spotted Forde and turned to bolt out of range, but the cavalier was too close. He drew his sword and charged on. Within minutes, the ranger had been dealt with. Sheathing the sword again, Forde rode over to Ewan and pulled the boy up behind him.

"Thanks," mumbled the young mage, hanging onto the cavalier's armor with one hand and trying not to flinch as the motion of riding jarred his injured arm. Forde headed straight for where he had seen Cormag fall, though he was almost afraid of what he might find. The wyvern rider had been up high.

Cormag thought himself very lucky. He was still alive. He decided he must have fallen from Genarog shortly before hitting the ground, because one of the wyvern's wings was on top of him. He was on his stomach in the sand, still holding tight to his lance.

He wanted to just stay there, but he knew he couldn't. Genarog had been shot, and he had to do something. He heard a rider approaching, and fought even harder to rise and face this new enemy. He wasn't great with a lance on foot, but he was passable, and he wasn't about to let himself just be killed.

The rider stopped just short of him, though he couldn't lift his head to see more than the horse's legs. A sudden wind from his other side had him trying to roll, to see who was there, but that just made him dizzy. In the next instant two sets of arms were pulling him to his feet, two people supporting him between them.

"Cormag?" He raised his head and looked toward the voice. Tana was on his right, caught between smiling and looking worried. "I did tell you I'd watch for you."

"A bit late, though," said Forde from his other side. "Can you stand?" This he directed at Cormag, who took a long moment to process the words before giving his best attempt at a shrug.

"What happened?" Tana asked, looking over her shoulder at Genarog. "Cormag! He's been shot!"

"They fell from the sky," Forde said quietly, looking at the fallen wyvern almost sadly. "I'm surprised either of them is alive."

"Alive?" Cormag asked, the first coherent thing he'd been able to do yet. He felt his hand drop his lance, and he pushed away from Tana and Forde, stumbling and staggering over to Genarog, who lowered his head down to the level of his rider. Cormag held up his hand, and the wyvern touched his head to it, then licked it.

"Looks alive to me," Forde muttered, going back to his horse and digging through his saddlebag. "Oh, come on, I have one in here…Seth's too stuffy to even let us out if we're not carrying everything…ah!"

"What are you doing, Forde?" asked Ewan, still sitting on Forde's horse. Reaching up, Forde pulled the boy down. Ewan looked surprised at this, and even more shocked as the arrow was plucked from his shoulder. He was, for a moment, too stunned to say anything, especially when Forde handed him a full glass bottle.

"Drink it, and get back on. Tana!" The Pegasus knight looked over, and Forde waved. "We're going to find…someone with a staff! You stay here!" When she nodded to him, Forde climbed back up on his horse. Noticing Ewan's struggle to join him, the cavalier lifted him on. "Keep your eyes open for anyone with a staff handy." Ewan's reply was a resolute salute.

"Come on, Cormag," Tana said, ignoring her annoyance at constantly being left behind. "We can't just stay here. We're too vulnerable."

"I'm not leaving Genarog." Cormag was sitting in front of the wyvern now, and he wasn't about to go anywhere. Whether or not it was because he couldn't get up wasn't something he was about to volunteer.

"This looks bad." He shaded his eyes with one hand, lance held firmly in the other.

"Agreed." The heavily armored horse stood beside him, its equally armored rider gripping a large, silver axe. "What do you want to do?"

"I see her," he replied, turning to the shaman on his other side. "Knoll, you come with me. Duessel, head toward where that archer is standing. Don't let anything beat you."

"Never, Prince Ephraim." Duessel rode off, leaving Ephraim to move as quickly as he could toward his sister. Knoll followed close behind him, firing off the occasional flux spell to ward off any enemy troops.

Eirika was in the thick of it, her sword and speed combined to counter every enemy attack with three of her own. Seth was a few yards away, dealing with a group of cavaliers and the troubadour behind them, and Saleh was on her other side, his spells holding off a trio of wyvern riders.

One of them descended on Eirika, who dove out of the way, rolling through the sand and springing up the strike at the beast's underside. She scored a line along it, but wyvern and rider soared upward again, preparing for another dive. Raising her sword again, Eirika stared in silence as it snapped off near the hilt.

Saleh and Seth both noticed this, but both were too far away and too occupied to be able to reach her in time. She raised what remained of her sword to defend herself against the oncoming wyvern rider, knowing it probably wouldn't be enough. A blur of blue and red stopped in front of her. Descending and upraised lances met with a clang.

Finishing the startled wyvern rider quickly, Ephraim turned and grinned at his sister. "You always did like getting in trouble."

"Ephraim!" Eirika found it hard to resist the urge to throw her arms around him. She settled for taking hold of both of his shoulders. "You're still alive!"

"Of course I am. Listen, Eirika, there are important things I have to tell you."

"We don't have much time, Ephraim. There's a battle going on."

"I know. But it's about Grado, about why they attacked Renais—" A shadow passed over them both, and they looked up to see another, larger wyvern descending toward them.

"How wonderful," sneered a cold voice. "Brother and sister, reunited at long last. Pity it all has to end so soon."

"Princess!" Seth's voice rang out, and Eirika turned, catching the replacement sword that was flying through the air. The familiar hilt of her own rapier settled in her hands, and she turned to face the rider of the large wyvern.

"Valter," she spat, and the wyvern knight laughed.

"I've waited so long for this day, Princess," he said casually, cold eyes meeting her fiery ones in an intense glare. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to be able to deal with your brother, too."

"You won't touch him." Eirika's voice was a low hiss, and she advanced step by step towards Valter, with Ephraim coming more slowly behind her. "You will leave now. Or you will die."

"Such strong words, Princess. They don't belong in the head of a noble girl like you. When I have you, things will be different."

Valter moved almost too fast for her to see. A dozen wyvern riders descended from the sky behind him, half headed for Seth, the other half for Saleh. Valter himself aimed straight at Eirika, who stabbed with her rapier, piercing through his armor at the hip.

"Foolish girl!" he cried, bringing his lance toward her. She dodged, but not before the edge of the lance caught the side of her face, leaving a long, shallow gash. Evading another strike, Eirika leapt, her rapier giving Valter a nearly identical mark. At the last second he flinched, and the rapier's path turned to trace across his left eye.

Valter screamed, and his wyvern went wild. Eirika had a moment to be satisfied with herself before the wyvern's tail slammed into her. She hit the ground hard, winded and stunned. Ephraim ran at the wyvern knight, his lance spinning in preparation for a solid strike. At the same time, Valter seemed to regain himself, and drove his own lance forward.

"Ephraim!" He heard Eirika's voice shout his name. He could see, dimly, Valter giving him a victorious smirk. He felt it, distantly, as the Moonstone tugged his lance free. Ephraim fell to the sand, only barely aware of what had happened. His lance dropped beside him. He, too, had a satisfied moment—Valter's blood stained the point—before losing consciousness.

"Ephraim!" Eirika screamed it again. She was on her feet, charging at Valter, ignoring warning cries from Seth, from Saleh, and from the others who had drawn nearer upon seeing this final conflict.

"How good of you to come willingly, Princess!" Valter turned his lance in his hand, driving the blunt end at her. She blocked it once, but the second strike knocked the wind out of her again, and the third caught her in the temple. She slumped over the shaft of his lance, unconscious. Valter laughed.

Seth finished the last of the wyvern riders with the help of the shaman who had arrived with Ephraim. He looked up again to see Valter rising into the air, Eirika's limp form draped across the saddle in front of him. He called to her, but all this did was make Valter laugh harder.

The remaining enemy troops began to retreat, leaving the battle with their lives and joining their leader in his flight. Innes fired arrow after arrow at Valter in his flight, but not a single one found its mark. Tana and Vanessa attempted to rush him, but they were both knocked aside by the other wyvern riders.

Valter laughed again, flying even higher, but careful not to dislodge his prize. He looked down at her still form, whispering. "With you and your bracelet, Princess, it will all be mine." He turned slightly in the direction of the setting sun, signaled to his troops, and disappeared.

He felt the heat first. It was overpowering, and there was barely any breeze at all. His armor made the heat worse…but he wasn't wearing his armor. He couldn't feel its heaviness. He wasn't holding his lance, either, though he had a very satisfying memory of watching it punch through Valter's armor.

Valter…Eirika! Ephraim opened his eyes with a gasp, and two concerned faces looked back at him. After a long moment and several attempts, he spoke.

"General Seth."

"Prince Ephraim," Seth replied formally.

"Nice to have you with us again," said a voice—Duessel's voice—from somewhere else. Ephraim almost smiled, both at Seth's formality and Duessel's relaxed attitude, but thoughts of Eirika and waves of pain stopped him.

"Something has to be done," said Kyle's voice. Ephraim moved to get up, but more hands than he really wanted to count reached out to push him back down.

"You're lucky to even be living," said the second person he could see. It was someone he didn't recognize, but this man—a mage of some kind—had been fighting near Eirika when Valter had attacked. "If I were you, I'd enjoy that for a while before thinking about standing."

Ephraim sighed, staring up at the cloudless sky above him. It was darkening now, the sun was setting. They were losing time.

"We have to go after Eirika," he said, closing his eyes again as another wave of pain silenced him. When he opened his eyes, Seth nodded.

"Of course, Prince Ephraim. Princess Tana has gone to determine their direction."

"We're going after them," Ephraim growled, fighting to get up again.

"Alright, look." A man with bright red hair drifted into Ephraim's field of vision. "Natasha's nice and quiet, but I really wouldn't put it past her to start swinging that staff if you keep being uncooperative. And Saleh there won't be above knocking you back out either."

The second man looking at Ephraim—Saleh, he supposed—frowned at the redhead. "I am above it, Joshua."

"Well…L'Arachel isn't, then."

"You won't have to worry about it anyway," said a pleasant female voice from somewhere near his head. The redhead said something else, but Ephraim couldn't tell what it was. He was nearly out again when he heard something hit the ground, and Tana's voice called out to them.

"He's headed for Renais!"

"Of course," said Seth grimly. "He's after the Stone."

Didn't go quite the way they planned, did it? Your thoughts?