Fire Emblem: The Blazing Sword
Part One: Life Lost
Prologue: Fire and Flight
Bern. A mighty nation in the far east of Elibe, known throughout the continent for its military strength; more specifically, its prestigious wyvern riders. They were the best of Bern's knights, soaring the skies astride reptilian mounts. Their sheer might, paired with their undying loyalty to their king, made them some of the deadliest soldiers known to mankind. They would take on any challenge; no matter how difficult, nor how immoral.
A mild summer night rolled heavily over the Bern frontier, the air warm and thick with humidity. Dark clouds swarmed in the sky, obscuring the slowly setting sun and foreshadowing a night of thunder and rain. The wind howled painfully through the trees, and chilled the world down to its very foundations. It wove its way through the countryside, as foreboding as the clouds above it. It danced over the hills, and into the scar below.
The torn remains of a ruined village emerged out of the darkness, a fiery wound on the countryside. The village itself was blackened from the fires that had ravaged it, marking it harshly against the smooth green of the field just over the hillside.
Merely two months ago, it had been the proud village of Nineveh, a congregation of masterful artisans.
It had been a quiet village, with no more than fifty inhabitants. At least half of those fifty were some of the most talented artisans in all of Bern, perhaps in all of Elibe. Any profession on the entire continent; you could find some form of it in Nineveh.
Now, though, the small village was devoid of life, a painful reminder of the brutality of Bern's monarch. One tiny bend in the truth, and the proud wyvern riders had struck it down; decimated the buildings, and murdered men, women, and children alike.
But today, for perhaps the first time in those two months, there was a tiny flicker of life on the horizon.
A lone wyvern pierced the dark clouds above, its leathery wings rippling powerfully in the wind. It snarled and snapped at air, its ivory teeth shredding mercilessly at the bit forced far into its mouth. Deadly claws raked through the air as the wind whipped around the creature, its powerful tail sweeping dangerously in its wake.
The beast spiraled downward just as lightning began to flash on the horizon. Its screech pierced the night like a banshee's howl, a high, quivering note that struck fear into every living soul that had the misfortune of encountering it. Its rider pulled back roughly on the reigns, and the wyvern screeched furiously as it was forced to change course. Thrashing its head and roaring in fury, it reluctantly obeyed its master's silent wishes, and soared downwards toward the ruins of Nineveh.
The wind began to swirl and scream almost as loud as the wyvern, its movements erratic and threatening with the rapidly approaching storm. Thunder rumbled menacingly in the distance, and streaks of lightning lit up the horizon in a blaze of electricity. Rain pelted down from the heavens, a freezing downpour that sieged the earth below.
The wyvern streaked downward like a bullet. The wind pounded it from all sides, and it screeched furiously as it struggled to keep control of its wildly pumping wings. Its golden eyes swerved in their sockets; second, transparent lids sweeping away the rain every few seconds. Its master shouted at the beast, his voice inaudible over the rumble of thunder behind him.
The wyvern screeched and swerved toward a charred building, blackened but miraculously still standing. Leathery wings pumped with strong sweeps, keeping the beast aloft several feet above the ground. The wyvern then thrust out its clawed hind legs, and touched down gently amidst the wind and rain.
They had touched down in the middle of what had been the central square of Nineveh. The wyvern swept its mighty tail in wide arcs across the muddy ground, lowering its proud head obediently, giving its master room to dismount. The wyvern rider swung himself out of the saddle with ease, landing with a small squelch in the watery mud below. His mount lifted and twisted its long neck, blinking blearily at its master as the man moved farther into the square.
He had been here two months ago, when Nineveh was peaceful. He had stood at this spot, and marveled at the beauty around him. Now it was all gone, destroyed in a blaze of fire.
The magnificent fountain that had been at the center of the square was crushed, the beautiful stone statues that had lined the edges of it now rubble. The rare gems that had embellished it were gone, most likely stolen, and the empty hollows where they had once sat now stared imploringly out at nothing.
He could remember tall, pristine buildings coated in beautiful ivory paint, with molding lined with the finest carvings. Now those carvings were gone forever, engulfed by fire and war. The beautiful buildings of Nineveh's past now lay crushed and blackened in the streets of Nineveh's somber present.
The people who had filled the square to the brim those short two months ago, laughing and chatting to their hearts content... They were gone, and all that was left of them were their burnt and broken bodies, strewn all over the blood-stained streets.
The wyvern rider circled the square in a daze, oblivious to the freezing rain pounding on his skull and the wind whistling in his ears. His mount lumbered silently after him, its golden eyes swiveling around in their sockets, seeming almost bored, to take in the ruins around them.
He had seen it happen, yes, but... he had never come back since then to see the damage. He knew it had been severe– how could it not have, after what he had seen?– but this...
"... Who's there?" came a gruff voice from the shadows, snapping the man roughly from his stupor. There was a stir from far behind a few broken support beams. "... That you, Isaac?"
The man stiffened and turned towards the voice. Its familiar tone sparked in his mind, and he tentatively matched a face to it. "... Atreus?" he called, as softly as he could with the rain roaring like an injured beast around him.
There was a loud crack! of rotting, wooden beams splitting in two. The man's wyvern snapped to attention at the sound, and eyed the shadowy alleyway from which the voice had come with mistrust. It wove silently around its master, baring its fangs at what it could not see in a silent hiss. Its scaly tail whipped around behind it, then gently wrapped itself around the man in an effort to protect him from the unknown. Isaac gently pushed the tail away, and ran a hand soothingly over the animal's snout. "It's okay, Jael," he murmured, peering into the darkness. "Friend... I think."
A tired, old face appeared in the on-and-off moonlight. Streaks of silver illuminated sections of wrinkled skin, and one brilliantly blue eye. "Isaac?" the voice repeated. The face inched forward, and out of the protection of the overhanging wreckage. Rain was upon it within seconds.
Isaac moved forward a few steps, clicking his tongue to get his mount to follow. He made his way to the overhang, and bent over to peer into the darkness. "No way..." he muttered.
An old man was huddled under the wreckage, having retreated back away from the storm. He clutched an old and tattered blue cloak tightly around his small frame, yet still shivered violently with every gust of wind. His crown was devoid of hair; all of it seemed to have migrated to his chin, stringy and white as snow.
"Atreus, it is you," Isaac said, dipping down to enter the tiny alcove. Jael made a rumbling sound in the back of his throat, trying and failing to follow his master under the wreckage. Isaac ignored him, and fell to his knees beside the trembling old man. "Why in the name of St. Elimine are you still here?"
Jael managed to get the tip of his snout underneath the overhang, but, being unable to see his master, began to snap his jaws in frustration. His nostrils flared, visible puffs of air rising ominously from them in the cold, and, with a frustrated screech, he shoved his entire head in, ivory canines flashing menacingly
"Re-...restrain your beast, Isaac!" Atreus cried abruptly, completely ignoring the young man's first query. He shrank back in the shadows, groping wildly behind him for something Isaac couldn't see. Eventually, he produced a knobbly old walking stick, and brandished it violently at both the rider and his mount.
Jael, taking the insane movements of this wrinkled old man as a serious threat, snarled and attempted to thrust his neck farther into the alcove, snapping viciously at the walking stick. "Jael!" Isaac bellowed, smacking the animal smartly across the snout. "Stop it!"
Jael recoiled with a snarl, but fell obediently silent, retreating partially back into the storm. Still, he eyed the trembling Atreus and his knobbly stick hungrily, as if daring the old man to try and attack his master again.
"You're insane, boy!" Atreus cried, and clutched his walking stick close to his tiny form. "Completely and utterly so! Anyone that attempted to go so much as near that creature would be eaten alive, much less those that attempt to ride it!"
Isaac took a deep, calming breath, and reached out to reassure the terrified old man. "Jael isn't going to hurt you, Atreus," he said soothingly, "He's perfectly safe. Now calm down and answer my question. Why in the name of St. Elimine are you here?"
Atreus fixed him with a hard glare, still trembling violently and clinging to his walking stick. "Bah. Me? You're the one who should be explaining yourself, boy. I thought I told you and your men to get out of here and never come back."
"What you told me," Isaac said darkly, "Was to take the boy and girl to Sacae." He situated himself more comfortably, sitting cross-legged across from the old man, between him and Isaac's menacing wyvern. "I did that."
"Good for you," Atreus snapped. "But you can't deny what I told you before you left." He jabbed a finger furiously in the direction of the storm. "The others are gone. Why are you so foolish that you'd remain in Bern longer than you have to?"
Isaac sighed. "Because the girl told me to go find you and make sure you were all right."
"What a load of..."
"It's true," Isaac interrupted sharply, "Whatever you may think or believe, she cares about your safety." He gestured to the crude shelter around them. "And this? This is not safe."
"Bah," Atreus muttered, "I'd be safer out in the tree at the top of that hill during this storm than you are in any region of Bern." His brows drew together in irritation. "Did that wretch of a girl tell you to come back?"
"She did," Isaac said calmly. "And I'm glad."
Atreus growled and spat into the mud. "Then you're just as foolish as she is," he told the wyvern rider flatly. He began to mutter to himself, dragging himself up to a sitting position. "Wretched little girl," he snarled, "Could've cost you your life. She never did bother to think of the safety of others. I always said she'd never amount to anything."
"But you still taught her, didn't you?" Isaac asked matter-of-factly. He merely smiled as Atreus glared at him.
"You're as much as a fool as she is," Atreus repeated, his voice a stubborn growl. He poked the front of Isaac's emerald armor with his walking stick, an action that got a threatening growl from the wyvern left in the storm. Atreus flinched slightly, but continued on. "Your commander made a hell of a sacrifice for you four," he snapped, "And here you are being reckless. It's like spitting on that sacrifice, it is. What a disgrace."
"You're going senile, old man," Isaac retorted darkly. "You're the one hiding in a disgusting little hole in the middle of a destroyed village."
Atreus rapped his armor again with his walking stick, leaning forward daringly. "Pah. If that's what you believe, maybe you aren't the fool after all." A twisted smirk deformed his lips, and he poked Isaac more forcefully with his stick. "Yes, maybe your commander is the fool, sacrificing herself for a whelp like you. Stupid woman."
Isaac felt his heart strings strain, felt his fists clench. No one spoke about his commander like that; not if he could allow it. He seized the walking stick by its knobbly tip, and tore it away from the old man. He threw it roughly to the side like it was a pesky bug, and seized Atreus violently by the front of his shirt. "You are in no position to question my actions or my morals, old man," he snarled into Atreus's blank face. "And you will not speak ill of my commander in front of me."
"Do you even understand just what that woman tried to do for you?" Atreus demanded, not fazed in the least by the wyvern rider's response. "She risked– and probably lost, I'll have you know– her own life so that you could flee. Flee to Lycia, she said. Flee to Sacae. Flee somewhere." Atreus's blue eyes narrowed; the pair were now almost nose-to-nose. "And yet here you are, still frolicking in Bern when you had the perfect chance to flee. And if throwing your life away for one who won't respect it isn't foolishness, I don't know what is."
"Hold your tongue!" Isaac snapped. "I came back here for you. I came back to make sure you were safe. Is this how you treat someone who's worried for you!"
"Bah," Atreus spat, "The only reason you came back was because my wretch of a student told you to, and you know it." Atreus returned Isaac's glare ten-fold, as if daring the young man to refute this statement. When the wyvern rider did not speak, he continued. "Of course. If she asked you to throw yourself from the capital's tallest building, you'd do it. You're wrapped so tightly around her little finger, it's nauseating."
"I said, hold your tongue, old man!" Isaac bellowed. Atreus's face was infuriatingly apathetic, almost bored in appearance, and Isaac was determined to wipe that look from his face once and for all. Without so much as taking a moment think, Isaac raised his free hand, and struck Atreus hard across the cheek.
The alcove suddenly went very silent. Isaac stared down at his own hand in horror, in nothing but pure shock at what he had done. He and Atreus had known each other for years, and, while they had their differences, Isaac had never gone so far as to strike the old man. Thunder cracked violently over their heads, and lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the tiny alcove for a few, brief, moments.
"... Are you that afraid of yourself?" Atreus asked calmly after the silence had stretched many minutes. "So terrified of your own faults that you refuse to hear them from another, lest they be cemented in truth?"
Isaac stared at Atreus, his mouth flopping uselessly to form words."Wh-...What?" he whispered. "What do you..."
"Bah, never mind," Atreus growled. He rubbed his cheek gingerly, massaging away the pink mark that had appeared where he had been struck. "You are too young to understand. It would be pointless for me to try to explain it to you."
"N-...No, I... I understand what it means, but..."
"Yes, you do," Atreus muttered, feeling around in the dirt for his fallen walking stick. "But at the same time, you don't. So don't bother with it. You won't understand."
Silence again reigned supreme between the two men. Atreus soon located his walking stick, and settled back down into a seated position across from Isaac. He studied the young wyvern rider's face for a long time, as if trying to peer into his soul. After many, awkward minutes, he spoke again, in new tone; exhausted and broken.
"... I worry, you know."
It took Isaac a moment to realize that the old man had spoken, and as soon as he did, he flailed to fill the silence. "P-...Pardon?"
"About her. I worry." Atreus sighed heavily, and his face broke, revealing a much older, tired man underneath. It was as if he had aged another twenty years; as if he were lying on his deathbed. "... You heard what happened?"
"... You mean... to the Lorca."
"Yes." Atreus clutched his walking staff tightly, eventually so much so that his knuckles began to turn stark white. "... I was afraid something would happen, but nothing like this... It endangers everything."
"But... How?" Isaac asked, frowning in nothing but confusion. "I don't understand. They weren't supposed to have contact with the Lorca at all. Why would the attack affect them? It doesn't make sense."
Atreus stared at the wyvern rider, exhaustion more present than ever in his brilliant azure eyes. "Of course it doesn't make sense, not to you," he murmured, "You're too young. You would never understand."
"What?"
"Never you mind," Atreus said sharply. His wall was reforming, and the broken old man was vanishing. "It's nothing for you to worry yourself to death over."
"But I..."
Atreus shoved his walking stick deep into the earth, and used it as leverage to slowly pull himself to his feet. He hobbled to the entrance to the alcove, and peered through cracks in the charred wood and out into the storm. "You need to go," he said flatly, "Every second here is endangering your life."
Isaac shook his head. "You can't stay here any longer, either, Atreus," he said, "It's equally as dangerous for you as it is for me." He frowned, turning and peering through the wind and rain. He spoke again, this time more to himself than to Atreus. "... I could probably get you to Orestes..."
"No," Atreus said flatly. He turned slightly, keeping one eye on the wyvern rider, and one on the storm raging just outside."You've spent too much time in Bern as it is. Your commander can't keep the bounty hunters busy forever. They're probably finished with her already as it is."
"But..."
"Go," Atreus said gruffly. He turned, hobbling back over to the younger man, and, in a surprisingly friendly gesture, clapped Isaac on the shoulder. He gestured to the ruined city around and behind him. "... You know, it may not look it, but you and your men did a great thing for us, boy... You risked everything for this town... Saved a few lives that needed saving." He patted the wyvern rider's shoulder and hobbled away, back towards the entrance. "... I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if you lost your life now."
"They're not just looking for us, you know," Isaac told him. "If they found out you were living here..."
"They wouldn't lay a hand on my head," Atreus said with a smirk.
"Atreus, the king is hunting everyone in this village down. That includes you."
"No, it doesn't, boy. Your teacher never taught you politics, did he?" Atreus rapped his walking stick against the rotting wood, and laughed contemptuously. "I'm too precious to the king. He'd never allow anyone to touch me. What an ignorant fool."
Isaac stared at him blankly.
"I just spent the last fifteen years cultivating a heir," Atreus elaborated, "and he still believes I'm the only one left in this world." He laughed again, bitterly. "And now, because he's such a blind fool, she's as safe as she can be in Sacae, and anyone who even thinks of laying a hand on me would be executed in a second."
"Maybe," Isaac said slowly, "but they can't do anything if the cause of death is a storm. You can't very well execute a storm."
Atreus grunted skeptically, but Isaac had every right to be worried. The storm was only getting worse, and the already unstable building was swaying dangerously in the powerful winds and relentless pound of the rain. Lightning streaked across the sky every few seconds, stringing blasts of thunder together in an endless rumble.
A low growl emitted from the back of Jael's throat. The wyvern had its wide eyes planted on the horizon, its claws raking uneasily in the mud. It ruffled its wings, its instincts willing it to fly out of the situation, but its loyalty to its master keeping it planted on the ground. One, golden eye swivelled in its socket to peer at Isaac, waiting for action.
"Look," Isaac continued, pointing to his mount, "It's even bothering Jael. Please, Atreus, let me take you to Orestes."
"Bah. Even if the rest of Bern liked those overgrown lizards," Atreus said darkly, "I'd still rather be struck by lightning than be eaten alive."
"Oh, for the love of–" Isaac grabbed Atreus by the forearm, dragging him roughly towards the entrance to the alcove. "My wyvern is not going to eat you. Why would I ride him if he went around eating people?"
"Don't ask me why all of Bern's knights are wrong in the head!" Atreus snarled. He tried to jerk his arm away, but he was simply not strong enough to free himself from the younger man's grip. "Unhand me, boy!"
Isaac ignored him, and dragged the old man out of the alcove and into the storm. "Jael!" he bellowed through the roar of the wind. "Come!"
The wyvern immediately responded to the call, bounding eagerly through the mud to its master. It dipped its slender neck down, giving Isaac the leverage to haul himself into the saddle. Atreus shouted blindly into the night, clinging tight as Isaac hauled him up behind him. The wyvern rider did not respond to his frenzied protests; he merely gathered Jael's reigns and wrapped them tight around his forearms. "Jael!" he bellowed, "Hup, hup!"
At this order, the wyvern rose to its full height, accompanied by a shriek, courtesy of Atreus. Leathery wings stretched wide into the sky, and powerful claws raked violently through the empty air. It lifted its snout to the rain, letting out a powerful screech that filled the night, and sprang up. Its wings pumped wildly to keep itself aloft, its long tail whipping behind it to stay its balance.
Within seconds, the wyvern was soaring into the sky, away from the lightning and rain that assaulted the earth below; Atreus shrieking all the way.
a/n: And it returns with a vengence! Now complete with a new prologue, revised chapters, and all-new Chapter Four! I've spent the last week or so revising, rewriting, and revamping this entire story. Now it's got an actual plot to follow, instead of me just writing on the whim. Hopefully this will attract new and old readers alike, and I hope you all have a pleasant read!
Speaking of old readers (if any of you return), I'd like to know your feedback on the changes. Do you like the story better this way, or should I have just left it alone. Every piece of criticism that you could give is valued and appreciated greatly. New readers, too. I'd like to hear what you think of this little piece of work I'll be working on from now on. Tell me things I could to differently, or if you particularly like something I do, tell me to keep it up. Anything you want to tell me, go for it!
And as for my...er updating "issues", I'm confident that it won't happen again. You'll see updates of only this until it's finished, you have my word. The only thing I have to say about my lax in updates until now is this: Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.
OceanRose