The Quest For The Crest

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. Nintendo does. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: "Seth's Behest"


It was a glorious time to be alive.

At least that's what Seth the Paladin thought at the moment. This was the big day. The day that one of his young little upstarts would rise up from the lowly, embarrassing rank of a cavalier and become...something better than a cavalier. A day in which most envied and few enjoyed. The day of an important choice between the chivalrous, glorious, women-filled career of a Paladin, or the grueling, begrudging, toiling, and unrewarding work of a Great Knight. It was indeed a difficult choice.

A day that a boy would become a man. Or a girl would become a man, for those kind of people out there. Whichever.

But no matter how grand or grandiose the day was, there was something niggling at the back of Seth's mind that completely rained on his parade. No, two things at the back of his mind. Kyle and Forde. Yes, even after all their training, even after the debacle with the Sacred Stones, those two little prepubescent sissy boys had still not achieved the privilege of ascending the steps to becoming something other than...a cavalier.

For you see, Seth the ever so noble, understanding, caring, tender, and chivalrous general that he was, had become a tad obsessed with being...well, a man. For some reason, Seth had decided that only paladins could achieve true...manliness. Whether it was a fellow rider that smacked him upside the head with that nonsense idea or a stray stone that was, that was his frame of mind now. Truth, honor, love, justice, and preserving the peace just weren't so... "manly" anymore to a Paladin, and he had decided to take his rage and enmity out on none other than...cavaliers, the backbone of Renais' army.

"Ugh, completely detestable that word is..." Seth had spat in disgust. "Remember, my fellow students, a cavalier is nothing more than a prepubescent little girl wearing a puny exoskeleton around his shoulders and riding on a steed that has more stomach lining than him."

He had said these exact words in a lecture to new recruits on their first day of summer training at Castle Renais. After that little unfortunate incident, Seth had received many angry letters from various housewives around the country demanding a formal apology, claiming that he had been hammering nonsense into their precious angels' tiny heads. Some of them had direct quotes from their offspring. One such mother had wrote:


"Little Oscar had come home from your summer camp screaming and wailing about how his father had less stomach lining than horses or how his father was a 'silly little girl riding in filth'! I'll tell you what, Sir Seth, my husband has more stomach, lung, liver, kidney, esophagus, and intestine lining than all of the creatures in Magvel put together!"

Another irate housewife had written:


"Sir Seth, my husband may not be as much as a noble, chivalrous Paladin such as yourself, but he is as damn well a man as any other knight in Renais' service. And I don't care what you, my mother, my mother-in-law, my brother, my sister, the ghost in the attic, or my 8-year old says about him. He can still wear that maid dress anytime he wants and BE PROUD OF IT!"

Seth hastily tossed that particular one in the fireplace after a quick scan.

But no matter. Seth had thrown all of the hate literature in the flames eventually. He then burned the ashes and buried them in a secluded dirt mound. In truth, Seth did not really mean to say those malicious words. He did it for the rush. The malicious teasing and mocking had felt like adrenaline through his veins and fine wine in his mouth. That was enough for him.

Once all that nonsense was settled, he still had two problems two deal with. One, at least one of those two Nancy boys Kyle and Forde had to be promoted to either Paladin or Great Knight in order to prove to Renais that Seth was still competent as a general.

"I'll never let them prove anything!" Seth had shouted aloud in his office. Realizing, no one was present, he had sat down in the most dignified way as possible: head first.

Two, Seth had to be subtle. Any feeble-minded cavalier mind could figure out Seth's plan in an instant. He had to be cautious, callous, calm, collaborative, and unscrupulously nonchalant. Kyle and Forde had to be completely unaware they were being screwed over by someone they had trusted with their lives, homes, and families.

That would be the easy part.

The hard part would be of how to execute it. Seth reached down into one of the drawers of his wooden desk and pulled out two objects. One about the size of a teacup: a teacup. Another one that glowed a brilliant dark orange in his torch-lit office, about the size of a badge, but slightly larger and heavier.

"The Knight's Crest..." Seth licked his lips. He quickly laid it upon the desk in order to prevent drool from collecting at the corners of his mouth. Picking up the teacup, Seth sighed took his mind off his troubles and lapsed into a fit of reminiscence.

"Ah, dear teacup, so many wonderful, yet horribly embarrassing times we've had here..."


"I assure you Princess Eirika, it's a lovely shade of light red!" Seth said in protest.

"Oh, don't worry Seth, you don't have to prove your masculinity to me. It was quite apparent when we first met and it's quite apparent now," Eirika could hardly keep a straight face.

"But it's 'light red', Princess, I swear! The craftsman told me that this teacup was 'light red'! His exact words! The lying bastard cheated me!" Seth pleaded.

"I don't care about that at all, Seth. Really! I'm sure it's a very manly shade of pink-"

"IT'S LIGHT RED FOR GOD'S SAKE!" Seth threw up his hands.


He shuddered at the memory and opened his eyes. Seth gently placed the teacup in front of him. The unsightly color hue stared back. Slowly, he clenched his right fist tightly and hovered over the rim of the cup. His hand trembled uncontrollably, sweat pouring his forehead in large beads. He raised his fist higher and higher over his last memoir, ready to finish his childhood off with one final crushing blow-

"NO!" Seth cried and jerked his hand backwards, slapping it against the wall. "I can't do this! I can't sacrifice my fond memories just to achieve a little more manhood!" Seth squeezed his eyes shut in despair and swept his arms across the table in a grand arc. Unfortunately, that arc happened to accidentally clip the side of Seth's prized cup, tipping it over. Seth watched in horror as it rolled over the edge of his desk before-

CRASH!

Seth shot up out of his seat and ran to the other side of his desk. He gasped at the wreckage. The damage wasn't too bad, much better than the sound effect Seth had heard prior. However, the cup now bore am unsightly hairline crack on one side while a few shards of ceramic were cracked off the rim.

"I'm a murderer..." Seth whimpered.

Knock. Knock.

Seth hastily picked up the shards with his bare hands and placed them back in the cup. "Who is it?" he called to the door.

"General Seth, it's us, Kyle and Forde! Everything all right in there?"

"Um, yes! Yes, absolutely fine!" Seth called back a bit flustered. He quickly shoved the teacup back into one of his desk drawers and proceeded to sit down as calmly as possible. "Can I help you with anything, gentlemen?"

"Sir, you invited us here, remember?" Kyle/Forde responded. "You said you had something important to discuss?"

"Um, yes! Come right in!" Seth responded as casually as possible.

The door creaked open, letting a stream of sunlight shine through, illuminating two broad figures, one in green chain mail and one in a bright red hue.

"Come now! Have a seat, you two!" Seth beckoned to them like a hungry cannibal would to naive children. A brilliant spark of an idea exploded inside his head, freeing him from all other distracting teacup-related problems. The Knight's Crest, the teacup, the quest of a lifetime for Kyle and Forde. Of course! He would release the goose and they would be the wild chasers. It all made sense now! Forgetting all that had transpired in the past five minutes, Seth cracked his knuckles in preparation for the Hell he was about to serve.

This was going to be fun.