The Last Ones Standing

Cold air kissed Cynthia's cheeks, turning them rosy. A brilliant, orange sunrise ascended above the eastern horizon. Mist rose from the frozen ground far below her, creating a fog that resembled clouds as she soared over the endless Feroxi Wilderness. Her blue hair whipped around her. Every couple of moments, her Pegasus, Baelfire, flapped its angelic wings, keeping her airborne.

Her blue eyes closed. She drank in the freezing wind, letting it rush into her lungs. The feeling transported her to a different time and place.

The days she recalled were far more dangerous. The cold wasn't the result of winter descending on the land, but instead the Shadow of the Fell Dragon. She could remember mid-summer in Ylisstol. Days that should have been warm and vibrant were cold and gray. But, she did not care at the time. Why should she? She had her friends. She had the Justice Cabal by her side to help the innocent citizens of the Halidom.

And I still had Lucina…

Her stomach twisted and her heart lodged in her throat. She could see her still. Lucina was always there for her. Always the strong sister she could lean on, no matter what happened. She supported her when their parents died in the future. She held her up when they fled the ruined future. She kept her strong when Owain, then Morgan, died.

Then she was gone. Taken by the Fell Dragon in one last evil act from the vile wyrm.

Cynthia's throat bobbed. A shaky breath rattled from her lungs, a puff of mist trembling from her lips. Her grip on the reins of her pegasus tightened.

I wish I could fly through the memories forever.

A dull roar sounded nearby. With that sound, her mind was dragged from the happy moments back to the present. Her eyes cracked open as leathery wings hammered against the air to her right.

"You're up early!"

Cynthia glanced over at Gerome as he flew beside her astride Minerva. He still wore a black mask over his eyes and nose, and he still sported dark armor over his body. Only now, to help combat the Feroxi cold, he layered some furs and linens over the armor. As did Cynthia.

Cynthia grimaced as she reached up with one hand and tugged the fur cloak she wore tighter over her shoulders. She did not reply to Gerome, instead returning her attention ahead. Gerome let out a grunt.

"Fine, ignore me then."

"When did you get so chatty?"

Gerome shrugged as he leaned back in his saddle. "Just trying to make conversation."

"Yeah, well," Cynthia's lips thinned as more of her blue hair whipped over her face. She reached up and brushed the locks out of her eyes, "I'm not in the mood."

Gerome nodded. "One of those mornings?"

Cynthia said nothing.

A heavy breath left Gerome's lips. "I get it." He let the reins rest in his laps as Minerva easily glided on the wind currents flowing around them. "It's peaceful up here."

"It was until you started talking."

Baelfire snorted beneath Cynthia. Minerva groaned. Gerome chuckled then patted the side of Minerva's scaly neck.

Cynthia bit her lip. "What did she say this time?"

Gerome blinked behind his mask. "Oh, um… you probably don't want to know."

Cynthia tilted her head. "Okay, now you have to tell me."

"I thought you wanted me to be quiet and let you have some peace?"

"Well, clearly your lizard has other ideas."

Minerva growled. Gerome brushed a hand against her flank, whispering under his breath before shaking his head.

"You know Minvera doesn't like being called a lizard."

Cynthia cringed. "Yeah… sorry about that."

Gerome gave her a pointed look. Before he could say anything else, his eyes narrowed, focusing ahead of them. Cynthia followed his gaze.

Smoke rose from a fire in the distance. She could see the flickering, orange flames from a Feroxi village nestled against distant mountains. Her eyes widened and her lips curled into a snarl.

Bandits.

Cynthia gritted her teeth. Even in the wake of Grima's defeat, evil remained. Only now, instead of it being concentrated in an apocalyptic force, it persisted in the vile hearts of those who wished to prey on others. It disgusted her far more than the Fell Dragon ever could.

She didn't even have to say a word to Gerome. They had both been patrolling the skies of both Ylisse and Regna Ferox for a while now, acting as vigilantes against evil-doers in the world. Cynthia was surprised when Gerome agreed to join her in her self-given quest, but she did not turn him away. A little company, even if he was a bit gloomy, helped.

Baelfire's wings folded as they drew closer. The nose of Cynthia's pegasus pitched down. The wind shrieked past her, screaming a battle cry for her. As she rocketed down, the details of the pillaged village grew clearer. Women and children were all running for a central building in the middle of the village. The men armed themselves with whatever farm equipment they thought could help them fight.

But they were still no match. A gang of bandits, roughly twenty strong, stormed through the small village. Some of their axes and hammers were already slick with crimson. Seeing that made Cynthia's blood boil.

The ground was coming closer. The trees were not pinpricks now. She could see the leaves, the pine cones, and even some of the pine needles. She heard Gerome shout something at her. Probably him pleading for her to pull up. But, she did not relent, not until the last second.

Right as it seemed like she would plow into the icy ground, she nudged Baelfire's flanks with her stirrups. Her steed's angelic wings spread wide. Tremendous amounts of force pulled on her body as she pulled out of her steep dive and shot into a sharp roll right toward the closest cluster of bandits.

"Justice rains from above!" Cynthia screamed.

Her lance slammed into the back of the closest bandit as he stalked towards a mother and her young son. The bandit shuddered around her lance. She retracted it. He was dead before he hit the ground.

The other two bandits with him spun to face her. Baelfire stamped and kicked one with his hind legs. Cynthia twisted in her saddle and swiped her lance, feeling the edge slash through the third bandit's chest.

Her pulse raced. Blood pumped through her veins along with tremendous adrenaline. Heat from roaring fires consuming huts and homes caused a thin veneer of sweat to build on her brow.

An arrow whizzed past her head, causing her to flinch. Baelfire reacted immediately, taking flight so Cynthia could zip above the village; a harder target to hit.

As she took off, Gerome hit another group of bandits. His ax came down in a savage cleave, taking the head off of one bandit as Mineva plucked two more off the ground. The Wyvern's leathery wings hammered against the air. When she was high above the village again, she dropped the unfortunate scum.

Cynthia snarled as she dove again. Instead of landing, she pulled up mere inches above the ground, gliding through the village streets until she plowed over another bandit.

However, she did not see the archer to her left.

Pain flooded her side as an arrow found a gap in her armor. The force of the shot almost sent her falling from her saddle, but she stayed on, gripping the reins tightly as she twirled to face the archer.

Only to meet a second arrow sinking into her gut.

A gasp shot from her lips. Strength ebbed from her body, but she refused to fall. With a roar, she spurred Baelfire forward, locating the archer and taking him out with her lance.

Blood soaked Cynthia's tunic beneath her armor. Ragged gasps rattled her lungs. Smoke burned her lungs as the fires grew larger and hotter around her. Her vision was getting blurry.

Don't fall! Cynthia shook the fog from her mind and clenched her teeth. Lucina wouldn't fall!

A hideous snarl sounded nearby. Cynthia twirled to face it, only for Baelfire to utter a sharp cry and rear back. She lost her grip on the reins as a club slammed into her chest, knocking her out of her saddle and forcing all of the air out of her lungs.

She hit the permafrost-crusted ground with a thud, a pathetic wheeze rushing from her lips as she lay flat on her back. He groaned, vision going blurry and spotty again. An ugly bandit with missing teeth stood over her, his club raised for the kill.

A black blur shot across her vision. The bandit screamed before being silenced by a Wyvern sinking her teeth into his body. Minerva tossed the body to the side like a ragdoll. Immediately, Gerome hopped down, rushing to Cynthia's side while Minerva guarded them.

His lips moved, but Cynthia couldn't really hear anything. Blood pulsed in her ears. Her mouth was dry. Her vision was getting blurrier.

Stay awake.

Gerome was uncorking several vulneraries. The bitter liquid hit her tongue. Instinctively she swallowed. Still, she felt exhausted.

Can't….

Her eyes closed.

The sound of a firewood crackling and popping caused Cynthia's eyes to flutter open. Pain flared through her side, stomach, and chest. The wounds stung, ached, and burned all at once. They made her just want to lie still as she looked up at a star-filled night sky.

Owain wouldn't stay down.

Cynthia swallowed hard, sucked in a sharp breath, and attempted to sit up. That's when she felt the biting cold in the air against the bare skin of her arms, shoulders, and back. A harsh blush shot over her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her torso, before realizing that heavy bandages covered her modesty and the wounds in her body. A relieved breath puffed from her lips.

A snort made the harsh blush return.

Cynthia glanced across the fire at Gerome. He lounged against Minerva's side as the wyvern slept, polishing his ax. He glanced at her from behind his mask, smirking a little.

"Justice rains from above?"

Cynthia's cheeks turned darker. "It-It-" she pouted. "Old habits die hard, okay?"

"It's not a bad habit," Gerome shrugged. "A bit stupid, but not bad."

"Stupid is usually a bad thing," Cynthia muttered. "Which I guess I was earlier, so, go ahead. Let me have it."

Gerome paused in his work. He rested his ax across his lap then uttered a heavy sigh. "You almost got yourself killed."

"Yup," Cynthia grimaced as she winced, feeling the arrow wounds throb and the bruise across her chest ache.

"Why?"

Cynthia snorted. "That's a rich question coming from you, y'know. Since when did you start caring so much?"

Gerome said nothing, and that made Cynthia freeze. She blinked, closed her eyes, and huffed.

"Naga, I'm… Gods, that was low. I'm sorry, Gerome."

Gerome sighed as he got to his feet, setting his ax against Minerva. He stepped through a light dusting of snow before taking a seat beside her. Without a word, he reached down and helped pull a wool blanket up over her torso.

"Even with a fire, if you're not careful, you'll catch a chill."

Cynthia gulped as Gerome helped her. Then he reached into a bag nearby and withdrew another vulnerary.

"Last one," he said. "We'll have to get more soon. Probably means a trip to Arena Ferox." He popped the cork and brought it to Cynthia's lips. "Drink."

The bitter liquid made her nose wrinkle, but she gulped it down anyway. Once it was gone, she exhaled and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Gerome snorted. "You're welcome." He tossed the vial back into the back then flicked his eyes at Cynthia.

Cynthia's heart thumped in her chest. Since when did Gerome start to care so much? He was way more indifferent when he joined her on their never-ending quest. But, over the months, it seemed like his walls were slowly coming down.

Meanwhile, I've been raising mine.

"You look like her now, y'know."

Cynthia blinked. "I… what?"

"Lucina," Gerome's throat bobbed. "Without the pigtails, you look like her. That, and I guess a year of growing up has really made me realize how alike you two were."

Cynthia's throat tightened as Gerome spoke.

"She'd be proud of you."

A shaky breath rattled Cynthia's lungs, causing her to wince and fall to her elbows instead of sitting upright. Gerome's eyes widened with concern behind his mask, but she didn't notice. She just cast her eyes to the ground a moment, despondent.

"I fought like that because I'm trying to be like her," she whispered. "I was that reckless because I just want to be strong and- and-" Cynthia sniffed and shook her head. "I guess I just didn't really care what happened beyond saving those people. It's not like the other members of the Justice Cabal are around anymore to help me be… be… well, happy, I guess."

Gerome grunted as he took a seat next to her, eyes focused on the fire. "Damn, and here I thought I was the newest member."

Cynthia's eyes widened. Slowly, her head turned to look at Gerome. They were sitting so close now, probably because Gerome just wanted to make sure she was comfortable for the night. He didn't want her freezing.

He cared about all of it. Realizing that made Cynthia's heart hammer in her chest. The most nihilistic person in the Shepherds was beginning to melt his cold heart… for her.

Before she could even think about it, Cynthia reached up and placed her fingers against Gerome's mask. She plucked it from his face, letting her see his violet eyes. For the first time in ages, a smile tugged on the corners of her mouth.

She brought her lips to his, giving him a soft kiss that caught him by surprise, but one he did not shy away from. When it ended, Cynthia pulled back, her eyes still closed.

"Um…"

Her eyes shot wide. Gerome's face was redder than the flames in their fire. Panic hit Cynthia.

"Oh! I- well- um- you see-" A nervous laugh shot from Cynthia. She winced and hissed as her side throbbed.

"That was weird."

"Very," Cynthia admitted with a cough.

A long pause hung between both of them. Cynthia cringed as she stared at the crackling fire in silence. Her eyes flicked back and forth.

Was what she did right? Did Gerome feel the same way? That kiss sure made it seem like it, but his reaction made her think that maybe she overstepped? What was she doing anyway? She had a mission! She had to be a scion of justice in the world like Morgan and Owain always wanted to be. She couldn't let anything get in the way of that, least of all feelings for Gerome.

He is handsome though.

Cynthia bit her lips. Her eyes flicked back and forth. One of the last conversations she ever had with Lucina shot through her mind. During it, Lucina told her that, when this war was over, she hoped Cynthia would be able to find a way to be happy. That she would be able to find a purpose beyond just fighting.

Lucina didn't want me to be like her. She wanted me to be happy. Cynthia gulped. She wanted me to be me.

"To hell with it!"

Cynthia threw her arms around Gerome and crashed her lips against his again. Gerome uttered a muffled sound of surprise before both of them flopped to the ground, wrapping their arms around each other.

Across the fire, Minerva cracked an eye open. Beside the Wyvern, Baelfire snorted and ruffled his wings. The two beasts shared a knowing look.

Two broken shepherds found healing with each other.

I've got the writing itch, and these little, short stories are great palate cleansers that I have a lot of fun with. I hope you all enjoyed this one too! Have a nice day!