Mark and Matthew soon rejoined the others inside the castle, making their way over the piles of the wounded and dead soldiers. By the time they had reached the throne room, the final battle was unfolding. The only ones still fighting were Lyndis's legion themselves. Serra had picked up a new staff, and Wil and Rath were restocked on arrows. Mark assumed they found an armory and decided the situation warranted taking them. Lyn, Sain, Kent, and Erk were all there as well, looking relatively unscatched from their fight at the souther entrance. Mark quickly noted that something was clearly bothering the knight duo, but he put it aside as a voice rang out.
"Stand your ground men! Kill the lying scoundrel who claims to be the granddaughter of the marquess!" Yelled a large enemy in heavy armor, raising his spear as he joined the fray alongside his soldiers. Mark felt a chill go down his spine as the enemy rushed them all. He never even had a chance to call out direction other than one word.
"Attack!" He yelled as loud as he could, eliciting a cheer. Mark had wondered who these people were up until now. He knew they had to be trained men, not just the bandit's or ruffians they'd been encountering up until now. They were clearly more poised, more battle hardened. Now, after what the enemy commander had shouted, Mark had his guesses. The thought almost made him be impaled by lance, as he wasn't paying attention at all. Snapping back into reality, Mark threw a knife into the knee of the man who just tried to stab him, following up by bringing his own knee into the man's face, knocking him out. Mark quickly pulled out his sword and surveyed the battlefield.
Chaos reigned. The banners on the walls were torn as stray swings cut them down, the chandeliers were shaking and swaying violently as a battle between Florina and several pegasus knights took place in the rafters. Parts of the castle were lighting on fire, as stray fireballs and flaming arrows missed their marks. Arrows flew up toward the pegasus battle, making it even more deadly to the participants, any that missed either lodging in the ceiling or coming back down and hitting those on the ground. Mark quickly lit his sword and fire and dashed towards their back line, trying to flank their mages and healers from the side. He was quickly taken up by several swordsmen, who saw his approach and cut him off. As he started fighting them, he yelled.
"This is too many! I need some support!" Mark continued to lose ground, hard pressed to find an opening to fight back or even run from this many foes. Soon his back would be against the wall behind him. He felt sweat work it's way down his face as he contemplated the fact that he might die here and now, when suddenly one of the men lit on fire. The man crumpled to the floor screaming, almost setting the others on fire as he rolled along the floor. With such a distraction, Mark got the opening he needed, and pulled out his tome. "Thanks Erk!" He yelled out as he ran through the new gap towards the enemies back line again. Mark began to chant a spell. He cursed himself in thought for what he was about to do.
"Mark what are you doing?!" He heard Wil cry as he ducked and weaved through enemies, still chanting. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, and he dropped his book. He looked to his side and saw his shoulder had been impaled by a stray arrow that had fallen from the ceiling. As he stood still, someone made a small cut in his side. This brought him back to the present, and he ran on towards the back, unable to find his tome where he dropped it, but already knowing the rest of the spell. He had memorized the end of most of the spells in the book, for just such a case. Continuing to mumble the spell under his breath, he hobbled to the back line. Finally, he had made it.
Lifting the arm that didn't make him scream out in pain if he moved it, he finished the spell. He felt a deep pain in his side again, as a new sword entered him. He winced deeply, but kept himself focused. Finally he shouted the command phrase, "Fire of the Dragon's pride, turn my foes to nothingness" and swiped his arm in horizontal motion along the enemy's back line. Following the movement of his arm, a flame akin to a snake devoured the entire line of foes, killing some instantly, and sending the rest into a panic before they met a slow and painful demise.
"Wh-what have you done?!" Yelled the enemy commander, gazing in horror at the scene. He lifted his spear. "Men! Kill that mage and make him pay for what he's done!" Mark turned around, battered, to see the entire enemy fleet approaching him. Mark smiled as death approached, thinking he had done his job. There are worse ways to die other than helping the people you care about. He thought solemnly, closing his eyes. He felt a heavy impact on his side and soon felt wind rush through his hair. He opened his eyes to see a flurry of purple hair, and white wings.
"Ha… eheheh… like and angel, eh Florina?" He said, his voice raspy. Florina blushed, but smiled at him.
"Good j-job, but look at you! You're bleeding out fast! Was that really worth it?" She asked, eyes full of concern. The loathing that was in her eyes when Mark had done similarly to save her life was gone. She still looked scared, but she was accepting. As she looked down at him, a hand on his chest and absolute concern on her face, Mark coughed as he laughed again. "Wh-what's so funny?" She asked. "You're seriously dying! I need to get you to Serra right away!"
"Ye-yeah." Mark said, reaching out a hand to give her a light touch on the shoulder. "It was."
Florina shied away from his hand, slapping it away. "What was?"
Mark smiled and closed his eyes. "It was totally worth it." and with that, he passed out.
Mark woke up only a few minutes later, staring into the lit globe of Serra's staff. "Oh, you're back! Good. I was worried you were going to die there." Serra said as she continued to concentrate on healing him. He could still hear fighting in the next room over.
"Aw, were you concerned about other people Serra?" Mark asked, light sarcasm in his voice.
Serra scoffed. "Of course I am! I am the perfect picture of a lady. If you died on me, it would reflect poorly on my abilities. Of course I was concerned!"
Mark chuckled and let out a sigh. "And, there it is…" He lay in silence as the fighting slowly stopped in the next room. "The fight is ending." He said weakly. Serra nodded.
"It's been on the recline for some time. Thanks to their lack of healing magic, we made excellent progress."
Mark nodded weakly. "Good. That was the plan."
"There was a plan?"
"Well… Sort of, I guess." It was thought up on the spot, but it was still a plan. Regardless, Mark wished he had had more time to come up with a better one. "Is anyone else as injured as I am?" He asked.
"Ye-yeah." He heard a weak voice next to him. Turning his head slightly, he saw Kent in his peripherals. "Hello." He said in greeting. He had a few light cuts all over his body, but the most glaring problem was an three arrows lodged completely through his right arm. Mark grimaced at the sight.
"What happened to you…?" He asked softly.
Kent, voice strained, spoke, "There were a few archers aiming directly for Erk. He was unaware of their presence in the slightest, and since he was contributing more to the fight in my eyes, I stuck out my body for him. My horse took an arrow as well." Kent yawned and closed his eyes. "It's alright, she's survived much worse, and it was in her side not her legs. She will recover. So will I, but I'm simply so exhausted…" Kent said the last few phrases with longer pauses in between. Soon he fell asleep. Mark looked back to Serra who just finished up with him.
"Alright, time for pincushion." She crawled over to him, still on her knees, and whispered in his ear, "Sorry, Kent. I know you want to sleep. Just give me a moment." Kent nodded and clenched his teeth.
"...Go ahead." He muttered grimly. Mark watched in empathetic pain as Serra unceremoniously ripped the arrows out of his arm, eliciting an absolutely tortured scream from the poor man. She quickly cast the arrows aside and set to work wrapping the arm and keeping her staff aglow next to it. Soon, the bleeding stopped, and the arm rippled underneath the bandages as it knit itself back together naturally.
"...There." Serra sai, taking out a cloth and wiping her forehead. "Looks like everything is done. Time to see how things are in the main room." Serra stood up and brushed her dress, but blood and dirt stayed on his regardless. "And just when I made it a new color too…" She pouted.
Before she left, Mark called after her. "Serra!" He said, sitting up, causing him great pain and a throbbing in his head. "Give me your shoulder, let me survey too."
"You shouldn't move." Serra said flatly.
"I know. I can take it." Mark insisted. No I can't. He thought. But she doesn't need to know that, and I can't stand not knowing how everyone is much more. "Please." He said. Serra mulled it over. Eventually she walked over to him and offered him a hand.
"I suppose I can accept. I'm sure people want to thank you." Her eyes lit up. "Ooh, speaking of thanks, we just saved a castle!" She said excitedly. "I know I'm certainly ready for a "thank you" as well, mhmhmhmhmmm." She hummed a laugh.
"For once, Serra, I agree." Mark said, taking her hand and standing up, leaning heavily on her for support. "Let's go see everyone." As they passed Kent, Mark stopped. "Oh, hang on just one second…" He felt around his coat and pulled out a small bag of coins. He tossed it onto Kent's chest. The poor guy was so out he didn't even notice. "Thanks for saving my best friend Kent." Mark smiled, and he and Serra left the room.
The grand hall was an absolute mess. Lyndis's legion was sprawled out around the room, exhausted from the fighting. Dorcas was lying face down, his axe embedded in the wall next to him. His body rose and fell in rhythm, so he was still breathing and alive, but clearly exhausted. Wil sat next to him, his back against the wall. He twirled an arrow in his hand, looking sadly as his bow, broken on the floor in front of him. Florina was bleeding from a wound on her leg, but was completely ignoring it in favor of caring for her pegasus, who was laying horizontally, a large slash on it's side, with a little gap right where Florina's leg would be. Mark gulped. Must have been quite a harrowing experience. Regardless, the pegasus looked like it was on the road to recovery in Florina's caring hands. Lyn was talking to Matthew. One of her sleeves had been completely torn off, and there was a cut on her back. It looked as though the cut had also sliced off a small amount of her hair, leaving an odd diagonal finish to her hair. Matthew had an arrow through his cloak, a burn on his arm, and a gash in his leg. He was gesturing wildly to Lyn as he spoke, scratching his head and point at Mark. He was likely explaining how he got there. Well, Mark was sure he wasn't explaining the whole story, but he figured he wouldn't. Sain was still on his horse. He had an arrow through his armor, likely only impaled slightly into his actual flesh. Since that was his largest wound, he was acting as a sort of leader, trotting from person to person and handing out vulneraries, bandages, and other supplies. Rath was speaking in a hushed voice to a man now sitting on the throne. He was kneeling and speaking with his head down. The man on the throne had his arms crossed, and was nodding sagely now and again, clearly in deep thought. Mark assumed he must be Marquess Araphen.
Finally, Mark's eyes rested on Erk. He was breathing slowly, clutching his thunder tome in both hands across his chest. His right leg was burned from the knee down, his cape was smoldering, and he had a steadily healing cut on his stomach. An empty vulnerary sat at his side. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled as Mark approached.
"Well if it isn't the hero of the day." He said, scooting over on the pillar to allow room for Mark to sit.
"Well, I don't know about hero, but I am rather amazing. Thanks for finally noticing, Erk!" Serra said, leaving a wink as she deposited Mark at the pillar and skipped to heal the others.
"I wasn't talking to you…" Erk said, sighing. "But sure, fine, you're great."
"She's out of earshot." Mark said flatly.
"I know. That's the point. I'd never admit she's useful to her face." Erk said.
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Mark smiled. He brought his hands up to his mouth and shouted. "Hey, Serra, Erk thinks you're great! He told me himself!" Mark smiled as Erk groaned to his left and he heard a happy 'EEEEEEEEEE!' of joy from across the hall.
"After I saved you and everything." Erk chuckled. "Here's your fire tome by the way." He held out Mark's book, now covered in dirt and blood from it's time on the floor. Mark sighed and dusted it off.
"Thanks." He said, stuffing it into its usual pocket in his coat.
Erk shot him a glance. "I see you're still using that book."
"...So?"
"Nothing, I suppose, I just figured you wouldn't."
"It's almost out of pages anyways."
"Comparative to how it was, perhaps, but now it's the size of an average tome. It has some life to it yet."
"Sure." They continued to sit in silence. Eventually Mark turned to Erk. He still felt this nagging feeling ever since they ran into each other again, and he finally worked up the nerve to say it. "So, I uh… I wanted to say something."
"Oh, this will be good." Erk said, sighing. "Go ahead."
"I'm sorry."
"For?"
"Leaving without saying anything. I should have told you."
"..."
"And, I'm sorry that you probably got blamed.
"Teacher saved me from blame."
"...That's a… comfort I guess."
"You don't need to apologize, Mark."
"I do."
"No, I get it-"
"I do!" Mark snapped. Erk quietly faced front. Mark grit his teeth and stared at the floor. He thought apologizing would make him feel better. It didn't. It made him feel worse. Suddenly, he found himself wrapped back up in his time in Etruria, and a new question begged to be asked. He feared it, but he asked anyway. "H-How's Ursula?" He asked quietly. "And… and Cecelia?" Erk remained silent. "... How are they, Erk? You can tell me."
Erk sighed. "You know that already. No one actually thinks you're dead, which means you're still… well, you know. And if you're still around, then Ursula…"
"... Has she started it yet?"
"... Yes. Her contract was filled out and she stopped living in the manor a few weeks after you left. She's likely in Bern now."
Mark remained silent. He felt a few tears forming in his eyes. He'd been running from this truth since he set out. Now, talking to Erk, Etruria caught up to him in the worst way possible. Soon, he felt his face grow red, and heard the soft patter of tears on the tiles of the hall.
"I… I had to leave, right Erk?" Mark stuttered. Erk nodded slowly.
"... Yeah. You did. I know."
"I had to… I had to get away from that… that life."
"You did."
"I-I-I had to…" He breathed heavily and held his head in his hands. "I-I had to s-s-sacrifice my sister's freedom f-for mine, r-r-right?"
"..."
"I-I had to…"
"... Yeah. You did. She better off that you would have been."
"Yeah… but…" Mark punched the tiles and faced the ugly truth. "I… traded my sister for myself." The words seemed to shatter as he said them. "I did it… Only me... I've actively made her life a living hell…"
"It's not a living hell. She's well taken care of."
"But it's not ideal either. She deserves better."
"Both of you did."
"..."
Erk sighed and reached into his pocket. "I wasn't going to give this to you. After I saw you enjoying yourself so much, trying your best to put that life behind you, I lost my nerve. But, maybe now it will help." Erk handed Mark a piece of paper. Mark quietly took it and read it to himself.
Hello Mark! It's me, Cecelia, your favorite little sister. I tried to get Ursula to write you a letter too, but she wouldn't. She said it was stupid, since we have no idea if Erk will ever find you, but I have hope. Father is obviously quite mad at you, but I'm sure that isn't a surprise. Mom is mad too, but less so. You know how she tries her best to keep her emotions under control when Father is upset. It's been a few weeks now, and they are still mad. I'm not mad though! I understand exactly why you left, and I don't blame you at all. This may surprise you, but neither does Ursula. In fact, she told me to write that she's happy to take the arrow for you. Maybe she doesn't think this letter is stupid after all, hm? Of course, I'm sure it helps that since you are still alive, (Nice fake body, by the by), she doesn't have to worry about… that… anymore. Neither do I, of course. Really, you've taken a huge weight off your sister's shoulders. So, don't worry about us, ok? Have an adventure! Meet a girl and get your lonely sister a nephew or a niece! Don't worry, I jest. Take care Mark. If you ever sneak into Etruria again, tell Erk to let me know. I can't wait to see you again.
Your loving sisters.
Cecilia and Ursula
The paper trembled in Mark's hands. "Why, again, didn't you want to show me this sooner?"
Erk nodded. "I was worried that if I did, it would make you worry about them, since you were trying your best not to think of them. But, now that you are anyway, I figured it would be a comfort." He eyed Mark. "Was it?"
Mark silently folded the letter and placed it between the pages of his sketchbook. "...Yeah." He sniffled and wiped his eyes. "Thanks Erk." He said. Thanks Cecelia, Ursula. He thought. Still shaken, a noise rose from the throne area.
"Very well. I hereby rescind my offer. Take your leave." Mark heard the Marquess say. He turned. Lyn was standing in front of the man, staring daggers at him. Rath shifted uncomfortably at the man's side, clearly uncomfortable.
"Fine. Thank you for your time, Marquess." Lyn spat out, putting extra venom on the last word, before turning and stomping out of the hall. "Come on everyone. We aren't welcome here." Everyone was silent, but slowly got up and left. As everyone was leaving, the Marquess called out.
"You there, in the green coat." Mark stopped and turned around. The Marquess gestured for Mark to come closer, which he did reluctantly.
"Yes, sir." Mark said plainly, trying to recover from the thought of what he'd done to his poor sisters.
"You're the lad from Etruria, correct?" the Marquess said. "The one that disappeared."
"...No sir. I don't know who you mean. I am a travelling scholar, I don't pay much attention to the politics of the world." Mark replied calmly.
"Why don't I believe you?" The Marquess said. Mark shrugged.
"I couldn't tell you sir. But I can tell you that I'm not the man you're thinking of." Mark gestured to the exit. "May I join my friends now?" He asked, trying his best to remain polite. His mind was still in pieces from his own horrid thoughts, and the fact that he had fought one of the harder battles of his life only an hour ago.
The Marquess contemplated. "I see. Very well. I would need to know for sure before I turn you in, and the consequences of being wrong would be, well, vast." The Marquess sighed, and Mark turned to leave. After a few steps though, the Marquess shouted after him. "Oh, but may I give you some advice?"
No. Mark thought, turning around. "Yes, of course you may Marquess." He said.
"Have nothing to do with that girl." He said. "Lyndis, that is. Not only does she have no experience with the court, but she is on the losing side. Lord Lundgren is clearly going to be the victor of this battle for the throne, and I intend to welcome his reign. You would be wise to abandon ship now, boy."
Mark stood in silence for a moment. Eventually he started walking back up to the Marquess. The Marquess raised an eyebrow. Mark stood directly before him. "With all due respect, Marquess." He said, steely. "Lyn has saved my life on several occasions, in several ways. She is easily one of the most caring and heartfelt people I have ever met. I will gladly fight alongside her until my legs give out underneath me. That's more than I can say for someone who kicks the people who just saved his throne out of his castle." Mark started to walk away.
"...Mark, his name was." The Marquess said, staring Mark down. "The boy from Etruria." Mark turned around.
"And?"
"Well." The Marquess said. "He said something quite similar back when he led the-" Mark lit a hand on fire and shot a fireball past the Marquess's head. The Marquess smiled. "I thought so. Well, go on, I won't tell anyone. If I did, you would certainly destroy me." The Marquess waved across the floor, following the giant burn mark Mark had left. "After all, you already destroyed me floor."
"... Good day, Marquess." Mark said, extinguishing his hand and walking out of the hallway. "I'm glad we understand each other." He called out, not turning around. He heard a chuckle.
"Yes, boy. Hollow as it may seem. I wish you the best of luck. I certainly don't envy you."
A/N This one took me a while. I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with it, but I think I'm happy with the result. My main concern was with how fast we've been going through Lyn's story in this fic that in comparison, the amount of time being spent on this one battle in the game was a bit long, but the more I thought about it, this is really a pivotal fight in the story. No longer are you fighting random grunts, but trained soldiers, after entering Lycia where things were supposed to ease up. Thus, I've given it more love than I thought I would. This is probably how a lot of Eliwood/Hector's section of this story will be told. After all, however many words in, and we still aren't even close to the main course. I've got big stuff planned, and I hope you guys are enjoying it as much as I am. As always, thanks for reading. Peace! -Matt
