Blank, white walls. Muffled, distant meows. Faint murmurs of a conversation happening in a different room. A beige desk. Hunched over, pen in hand. Words on a page, running endlessly without coherent thought or vision. Lines he could barely read, plot points he couldn't understand. Yet the words kept going.
Synonyms. Antonyms. Verbs. Adverbs. Adjectives. Alliteration. Similes. Metaphors. Contractions. Sentences. Paragraphs. Clauses. Sibilance. Dialogue. Dialogue Tags.
FUCKING DIALOGUE TAGS.
Everything spread onto several pages of mental torture. Pen began to lose ink; pull out another. Run out of space on the page; use another. It never stopped. It kept going and going and going and going and going and going and going - there was never an end. Even as all of the muffled sounds of conversations and mindless meows quietened down. Even as peace was attained within the crowded bedroom. There was never an end.
Distraction. The television, the TV, the telly. A video game was on there. Unmoving, not played. The controller was on the desk. His eyes kept switching between that and the endless pile of pages. His free hand reached out to the controller, desperately wishing to break away from the mountain of words. An invisible force smacked his hand away. He looked up.
A middle-aged man with a stern expression and a grey, boring tuxedo returned his gaze. The controller was in his grasp. No longer on the table.
"Do you truly wish to get away from us, boy?"
Confusion. Eyes, eyebrows, twitching and tilting. An answer unknown.
"Are you satisfied? Do you have what you wanted? Is this the meaning of your dream? Answer me, child. Answer me!"
This man was angry. Irritated. Vexed. Fuming. Not an unfamiliar feeling. But what was he supposed to say? His words, his expression, they all belied what he truly believed that man to be. Something wasn't right.
"Leaving us was the worst mistake you could have ever made. Do you not recall the times we all shared together? Laughing with one another, sharing countless meals at dinner time, watching a movie together every week...does that mean nothing to you?"
He remembered. A girl, around his age, selflessly defending him from bullies at secondary school. An older woman comforting him and easing his tears in times of need. The man playing many multiplayer games with him, together basking in the presence and joy of one another.
New presences appeared within the room. The two women. One's expression was almost as stern as the old man's, though an aura of disappointment radiated from her instead of pure anger. The eldest woman was a paragon of sadness. Both of their long, black hair styles stuck out from the featureless white-painted walls. He could feel it. The pressure of their emotions.
"What the hell? Did ya really have to go and leave us like that? All those years we spent together, growin' up and becomin' adults, you just ignored ALL of that? How fucking dare you!" The younger girl spat.
"I didn't raise you like this. I thought-I thought you were a kind boy! Someone who would always help others whenever possible! Someone who would never willingly disappoint or upset anyone else! But…" the older woman lamented. "You have betrayed us, son."
"Yeah! What the actual hell, bro?"
The old man released the controller from his grasp.
"You disgust me, son."
Hurt. Their words, they hurt. What was once supposed to be a bastion of hospitality and homeliness - it now was turned against him. His family. Father, sister, mother. Three pillars of support from ages gone by. Staring at him with eyes of contempt, disgust and sadness.
White walls became black. His family was now in front of him, their bodies towering over his comparatively petite self.
"You are no longer my son, Lucas."
"I can't believe you were once my brother, Lucas."
"Come back to us, Lucas! Please!"
A distinct smell came to his nose. Charred meat...no. Decomposing bodies, multiple stab and cut wounds. Sounds of steel clashing upon steel, incoherent yells from the distance. He checked his hands.
They were awash with blood. Smears of red obtained from numerous battles. Battles of life and death. A near-miss axe swing. Blocking a potentially fatal spell. Swinging a blade with reckless abandon. More and more blood appeared on his attire, which soon transformed into a black and grey uniform. Fear - he could feel it. He could taste it. It was everything he was. Fearful. Scared. Terrified. His chair was gone, as was his desk. The disappointed and upset expressions from his family members persisted.
"Lucas."
"Lucas!"
"Lucas…"
His name. They kept saying it, like it meant something. Who was he, really? Just some average person? A writer? A warrior? A professor? It was all unclear. Someone in the distance screamed, their voice becoming guttural as a sound of a blade slitting their throat shot through his ears as if a gun had been fired.
Beneath him was the controller. Behind his family members was a television, the video game still on it. The title screen so full of mystery. Its music provides a calm ambience, allowing him to think clearly. To think through the repetition of his name. To ignore the sounds of death in the near distance.
On the screen of which he could barely see - there was a name.
"Fire Emblem Three Houses"
That game. Fodlan. Garreg Mach Monastery. Byleth. Sothis. Jeralt. Edelgard. Claude. Dimitri. Rhea. Everyone, everything and everywhere else. He knew what was to happen. What was to transpire. He wanted to help, but could he? Was he able to? Was it within his power? He reached out for the controller.
"Lucas."
A different voice came to him. It did not belong to any of his family members, though it was feminine in nature. He recognised it - a friend. A good friend. Something was inherently soothing about it, yet its presence caused him much undue confusion.
"Lucas."
Another familiar voice. This one was more masculine. Although it was mostly monotone, a hint of emotion could still be detected. It, along with the other voice, were concerned. Worried. But for who? Him?
"Lucas!"
Both voices spoke at the same time. No, they yelled. They were trying to reach him. Where were they? He could not see them. His father, sister and mother were still glaring at him. A headache permeated through his mind.
"Wake up, Lucas!"
He was confused. Why...what? He shrugged it off and picked up the controller he'd reached out for. As he did so, his family disappeared from view, dissolving into nothingness as everything became silent. Save for those two voices.
"Wake up, now!"
He pressed the A button.
Lucas' eyes opened. He jolted himself upright, a gasp escaping his mouth. After blinking to confirm reality, he checked his hands. They were clean. Not a single drop of blood was in sight. Neither were any of his family members around. He could not smell any dead bodies and neither could he hear any sounds of battle. The professor sighed, then rubbed his eyes.
"I see you are awake," the feminine voice of Sothis commented.
"What…?" Lucas caught himself before he could speak aloud any further. "Sothis? That's really you?"
"Of course it is, you fool! Who else would it be? There is only one goddess residing within you," Sothis huffed.
Lucas sat there, looking blankly at the ground. He peered out of the front of the tent he was in, finding that everything was indeed the same as he last left them. He quickly closed the tent and sat back down on his 'bed'.
"I'm awake. That...that dream. What the hell was that dream?" Lucas puzzled, brushing a hand through his hair.
"I am unsure. We could not see what was happening, but we could at least infer it was not pleasant," Sothis guessed, leaning to one side of her throne.
"She's right," Byleth spoke up. "We were able to feel the intensity of your nightmare. It felt frightening. Are you okay, Lucas?"
"I'm f-fine. I think," Lucas weakly reassured. "Goddess, I...what in the absolute seven hells did I just experience?! It felt like someone put me through a damn rollercoaster without any safety harnesses!"
"I'll assume that is a bad thing. Either way, are you able to recall what happened in the dream? We may be able to help you deal with it," Byleth offered.
Lucas gulped.
"It all started with me in what I think was my old bedroom from my family home back on Earth. I was writing...something, I dunno what. All I knew was that it was irritating and that I never stopped putting words down," he recalled. "Then my dad showed up."
"Your father?" Byleth queried.
"Yeah. It was definitely him. He wore that same tuxedo I always saw him wear. He was asking me a lot of questions. I don't remember them, but they were questions that really made me doubt myself," Lucas continued, hesitating to speak any further. "Then my mother and sister appeared. All three of them started asking me why I betrayed them, why I left them behind. It was…"
Sothis prevented any tears from appearing. "That is enough. You should not think about this any more than you have. It was clear that it was a very harrowing experience. I would not want you to spiral into a deep depression."
"I-thank you, Sothis. I, uh, what should I do now? I doubt I'll get any sleep in this state," Lucas asked, looking back at his disturbed bedsheets.
"Have a walk. That's something I liked to do whenever I couldn't sleep. The nighttime breeze may be able to calm you down," suggested Byleth.
"I dunno. I've never really been one to find walks to be calming," Lucas doubted, brushing his almost hairless chin with his hand.
"What else will you do?" Byleth replied.
"Good point. Night time walk it is."
Quickly hand-brushing his hair once more for no particular reason, Lucas departed from his tent and began to wander around. A cool breeze of wind rushed past him as he stared into the stars above. A half-moon was present within the night sky, its grey-white brilliance standing out amongst the unexplored blackness of space.
Lucas continued walking around the camp, brushing past any knights that were patrolling the area. They all left him alone, likely as a result of his station. Or perhaps they simply didn't care to interact with him. Sothis advised him to ignore such thoughts and carry on walking. So he did.
After completing his third loop around the average-sized campsite, someone called out to him. It wasn't one of the knights. Lucas swivelled around and smiled when he saw who it was.
"Professor?" Dorothea had called out. She was wearing some dark brown and red robes, befitting that of a Mage. The brown of her robes even complimented her similarly colored hair, which was without its revered hat. "You can't sleep either, huh?"
"Uh, yeah. Something like that." Lucas looked away nervously. "I don't usually walk around like this at night. It's just something I decided on doing for the heck of it."
"I see. I'm assuming you had a bad dream and so you're walking around to try and forget it," speculated Dorothea, flicking several strands of hair behind herself.
"Y-yeah, I am. How'd you guess that?" Lucas wondered.
"I'm doing exactly the same thing."
Once her answer successfully processed through Lucas' brain, he and Dorothea shared a laugh, one they had to consciously keep on the down low so as to not wake anybody up.
"F-fair enough, heh," commented Lucas as his laughter dissipated. "What was your dream about, if you don't mind me asking?"
Dorothea seemed unsure. "Um, I don't know if I should say. It was really embarrassing. L-let's just say it involved something that happened to me in the past. I'd rather not go into much further detail."
"Understood. Mine was, uh, absolutely terrifying. It balled up all of my insecurities into one and just threw it all at me. I can understand why you wouldn't want to share."
"Remember! Do not think about the dream! The more you do, the more you will be reminded of the suffering you endured. Think about happier things!" Sothis promptly reminded him.
Lucas mentally nodded.
"So! Uh, let's think about something else. Something happier than whatever we experienced while we slept. How about...the mission. Yeah, how do you feel about our mission?"
"We have to kill Sylvain's brother, right?" Dorothea asked. Lucas facepalmed.
"Okay, maybe that's not the best thing I could've picked. But yes, that is indeed what we have to do. He's stolen a Heroes' Relic and probably plans on using it to cause mayhem. We need to get that back before he can use it to harm anyone," the professor reiterated.
"Don't forget about the Demonic Beast," Byleth added.
"I haven't."
Lucas snapped back to the camp as Dorothea spoke. "It's a shame that we have to kill a family member of one of our friends. But I spoke to Sylvain and he seemed to have been fine with it. In fact, it looked like he even wanted his brother dead. How could he be so cold to his own family?"
"From what I hear, Miklan isn't a nice guy. I heard he pushed Sylvain down a well one time," Lucas clarified for his student, a frown appearing on him. "I don't think Sylvain considers him a brother. To him, Miklan's just some worthless thief. Someone that went against the beliefs of the family and is something of an outcast. Yeah..."
He sighed.
Dorothea cocked her head, theories and assumptions about what her teacher just said crowding her mind. She largely shrugged them off. "He really pushed his own brother down a well? That's terrible! I suppose he is a bad person, then. I feel a little better about having to kill him now. Just a little."
"Good. We'll need all hands on deck for this one. That tower's gonna be crawling with thieves. Probably. If you aren't at your best, well...you've gotta be."
"How do you know it'll be full of them? There could only be a small handful or something."
Lucas grinned. "Intuition. Thanks for the talk, Dorothea. I feel sufficiently distracted. See you in the morning."
Dorothea stood there, totally bewildered as her professor ventured away from the conversation and towards his own tent. She turned to the half-moon, giving it a smile before following her teacher's example. Sleep then came much more naturally to the two.
Upon the birth of a new dawn, the group from Garreg Mach went straight back to moving through the quaint Faerghus countryside. Just like the last time they visited the Kingdom, the general environment became a lot more damp and full of condensation, though to many, it did feel much colder than their prior visit several months ago. Regardless, they all kept moving for the sake of their mission.
It took only a few more days to reach Galatea territory, where the tower in question was located. Before much longer, a gigantic black tower could be seen in the distance, its misty darkness providing a sense of foreboding to all those with weak mental fortitude. Some were exuding confidence. Lucas was not. He was at least able to keep a straight face all throughout the rest of their trip.
Eventually, the group came across a camp occupied by their allies. As they approached it, Lucas' group was stopped by two guards.
"Hold it! Who goes there?" A strangely familiar voice asked in a very demanding manner.
"My name is Lucas Hog. We're-" Lucas was about to answer, yet the same voice stopped him.
"You again?! Oh, just come in. Not gonna waste my time with this," the owner of the voice stepped aside, as did their partner. "Go. Get moving, add your forces to ours, do whatever. Please don't waste my time with this stuff again."
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Lucas wondered, a perplexed expression coming to him.
The guard sighed. "I'm the same guy that was at the Gaspard camp. Alexei's my name. You might also know Victor, my lifelong partner. Say hi, Victor."
"Hi, Victor!" Victor greeted. Alexei buried his face within his palm.
"H-hello," Lucas nervously laughed, providing his own greeting to the cheery, albeit simple guard. "Well, uh, it's good to see you two are still doing what you do best. Thanks for letting us pass this time."
"Heh. You're welcome. Now get moving before Sir Gilbert comes along and berates us. Please," Alexei practically pleaded.
With the urging of the somewhat friendly knight, Lucas and his squad entered the camp. Everyone dispersed as expected, the knights joining with their friends while the students searched for their lodgings. Lucas stood in the middle of camp and stared straight at the biggest tent of them all. The one that would house all of the official meetings, as he learnt from some knight.
He opened the tent's flap. Inside was a certain orange-haired, wrinkle-riddled old knight. Gilbert Eddie Dominic was standing over a table, scrutinising some papers as well as other kinds of notes. The tent flap hadn't alerted Lucas' presence to the man, so the teacher was able to get a good look at the person he'd be speaking to for the next while.
"Even seeing him from the side, I get reminded of Annette. I need to remember to sort that out when I get back to the monastery," Lucas planned. He stepped forward. "Um, Sir Gilbert?"
The knight slowly shifted his position, his head tilting sluggishly over to the new arrival. "Oh, my apologies. I was lost in my strategizing. You must be Lucas Hog, the Officers Academy's newest professor. I am Gilbert Pronislav. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, sir. Uh, should I be calling you that? Do you hate it when people refer to you as 'sir'?" Lucas inquired.
"It is not unwelcome. However, it would be tiresome to keep hearing it every time my name is uttered. Some people are obstinate, though. I will not implore you to stop referring to me as such if that is what you wish to do," Gilbert answered, a stern expression stuck to his face.
"I see," Lucas' attention drifted to the items on the table. "So what's all this, then? Details about the mission?"
"Yes. All of these papers detail differing aspects about Conand Tower and the thieves inside, along with other important points to consider. Read them at your leisure." Gilbert turned back to the table as well. "What is most important is the number of enemies we are likely to encounter within the tower. We have not been able to determine an exact amount, although it has been made clear we are not dealing with an ordinary group of thieves."
"There's a bunch of 'em, huh?" Lucas summarised as he continued staring at the papers. "I can only imagine Miklan will be hiding on the highest floor. Only makes sense for him to put a wave of his goons between us and himself."
He paused, an idea coming to his mind.
"Do we know how complex the building is? Like, in terms of structure and how many ways there are to get between floors," the professor asked.
"From what we could gather, there are many pathways between different floors and rooms. Are you suggesting they may attempt to use some of these passages?" Gilbert questioned.
"Yes," Lucas confirmed with a nod.
Gilbert shook his head. "We have already surmised that. It would be foolish for the thieves not to make use of them. We will have to remain on-guard as we proceed through the tower."
"Oh," Lucas' head tilted downwards. He checked over the notes once more, though a sudden bout of depression pulled him away from doing so for long. He frowned. "Everything seems good to me. I don't think I really have anything else to add. My students and I will lead the charge through the tower. We'll need you and the other knights to back us up."
"Of course. That was our plan from the start."
Lucas frowned even harder. "Well, what's the point of even fucking talking to this guy? Screw this, I'm out." He glanced at the tent's exit before addressing the other man. "Good. If you'll excuse me, I'll be taking a nap in my tent. I'm physically exhausted after all the walking I've been doing. Goodbye, Gilbert."
"I will be seeing you in the morning then, teacher."
He then proceeded to leave the central command tent, heading out to go find whichever bed hadn't been claimed yet. As Lucas walked through the camp, a single comment came to him.
"Yeah. I'll see you in the morning, you child abandoner."
Come dawn, the mission began. A sizable gathering of students, knights and one bumbling professor marched over towards Conand Tower. Not a single sound could be heard from within. No archers were primed. Nothing of the sort happened.
"Hmm," Gilbert murmured in suspicion. "There is no doubt our enemies are waiting for us inside. Though it is curious they are not using this opportunity to attack immediately."
"Perhaps they merely wish to act defensively," Edelgard suggested, stepping forward in her clunky Armored Knight getup.
"That is most likely the case. Conand Tower was originally built for both surveillance and defense. I am certain the thieves have figured that out," Gilbert agreed. "Especially considering Miklan is their leader."
"You seem to know a lot about him, Gilbert. Do you suppose that you would be able to tell us more?" Edelgard asked, facing the old knight.
"I can, if that is what you wish," Gilbert replied in acceptance. "Miklan, as you know, is a disowned son of Margrave Gautier. His house has always placed a certain level of importance on Crests. More so than the average noble house. Therefore, when Miklan was born without a Crest, he was cast aside by his own family. Thrown by the wayside, ignored by the very same people that sired him."
Lucas clenched his fist, scowling at something nobody else could see. Edelgard saw him do this. She blinked, reassuring herself that she wasn't simply seeing things. Her attention flipped back to Gilbert when he appeared to notice her professor's reaction as well.
"There is no reason a Crest should determine someone's destiny in that manner. Miklan was outcast for reasons entirely beyond his control. Does that not seem unfair to you, Gilbert?" Edelgard questioned the knight, bringing his attention back to the conversation. She quickly checked on her teacher, who seemingly calmed down somewhat. A small smile escaped her for a short second.
"That is not my place to question," Gilbert responded, refusing to give a proper answer. He motioned towards the tower. "I believe we should begin our attack. Are we all ready?"
Adrestia's princess glanced at Lucas once more. She monitored his face, finding only a strangely deep conviction in his eyes. A level of determination she was familiar with. Yet, she hadn't expected to find it in her professor of all people.
Everyone proceeded to venture into the shadowy, not-so abandoned tower. Each of them cautiously walked inside, using the torches lit upon the walls to guide their way. What was great for them was that the tower wasn't very wide overall, meaning they could scour the entire floor in a noticeably quick fashion. The stairs were at the furthest end of the hall, which was in turn littered with wooden doors that led to various kinds of rooms.
Something that struck them all as strange was the complete lack of any enemies. It was as if the tower was truly abandoned, although everyone knew this couldn't have been the case. They decided to head on up through the stairs, reaching the first floor. Still no thieves. The knights, students and professor wandered down the hall. A split path was approached. While some were curious about what rested down one path, their way forward was clear. More stairs were at the end of the hall to their right.
As the students and some knights led the charge down the hall, a sharp scream quickly reached their ears. Everyone at the front turned right around, discovering that their back half was being assaulted by a large group of thieves.
"No! Knights, move out of our way. I will assist you with these miscreants," Gilbert commanded his men.
Lucas grit his teeth. He was prepared to activate Divine Pulse in order to counter this sudden ambush, but Byleth placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from doing so.
"Watch," was all the man of many futures said.
Curious, Lucas did as he was told and paid attention to what happened next. While the knights were engaged in a seemingly even battle with the thieves in the distant end of the hall, one particular soldier broke off.
"Sir Gilbert!" The knight called. Lucas gasped - it was Alexei. "Don't bother with us! We can handle these dastards!"
"What?! What are you saying, knight?" Gilbert questioned, calling back.
"I'm saying you shouldn't waste your time with these lowlifes! We're here to complete a mission, sir, and we won't be able to leave until it's done! So, with all due respect, you'd better get to wherever their leader is and take care of him! You can't waste time here! Which is why we'll hold them off! They're nothing compared to the might of the Knights of Seiros!" Alexei asserted.
Gilbert closed his eyes. He reopened them when he came to a decision.
"Alright. I commend you for your courage, men! The rest of you, let us proceed onward! Miklan cannot be much further ahead!" Gilbert commanded.
The group of knights and students that were at the head of the pack switched back to facing forwards. Lucas was the last of them to do so. His gaze was locked on the brave Knights of Seiros who were fending off those vicious thieves. Many knights were falling to the tenacity of their enemies. Limbs were being cut off, throats were being torn and a tidal wave of blood was splashing onto the ones still alive. Lucas watched as Alexei, one of the only guards he knew, threw himself into the fight. He clenched his jaw.
"Are you sure I shouldn't use Divine Pulse?!" Lucas queried Byleth, the former's tenseness being retained in the mental void of his mind.
"Would you rather allow your group to be slowed down by the ambush? Trust me, Lucas. I have seen this happen. The one time where I decided to counter the ambush, more enemies appeared. My students were caught in the attack. I cannot allow you to make the same mistake I did," Byleth recounted. "Do not turn back the hands of time. Save your uses of that power for later. You'll need it."
"..." Lucas did not have an immediate response. "Alright. I'll take your word for it. I'll go and-"
One of the knights in Lucas' half of the group reached out towards the fight.
"Alexei, no!" The knight cried out.
Victor rushed forward, lance at the ready. He dashed down the hall, keen to help out his friend. However, a stray arrow pierced his neck. Victor collapsed to the floor. A pool of blood formed around him.
"Get moving," urged Byleth.
Lucas closed his eyes, holding back the tears. Byleth's words assisted him with this endeavour. He reopened them. The fight was clearly still going on. Alexei hadn't noticed the death of his friend, as he was still in the thick of it. Lucas frowned.
"Professor, what are you doing?" Edelgard wondered, having noticed her professor's reluctance to move. Lucas turned to face his student, finding out that everyone else was already at the stairs. "We need to get moving."
Lucas nodded. "Yes, yes we do."
Although Edelgard was curious, she disregarded her thoughts on the matter. There were more important things to take care of. Miklan was still alive and the Knights of Seiros did not have the Lance of Ruin. Not just yet. Lucas reminded himself of all this and followed Edelgard towards the stairs.
Proceeding the stairs was another straightforward hall. Now that their numbers had thinned out, the forces of Garreg Mach were able to move around more freely. The halls were no longer congested with people. Lucas actually began to recognise his surroundings. There was a curve at the end of the hall, but the walls weren't rounded to accommodate for the turn. They were perfectly straight, creating a kind of architecture Lucas found to be peculiar. Yet it was also recognisable. To him and Byleth, at least.
"This must be the top floor. Miklan…" he remarked to himself. "You're mine."
As he expected, the first enemies the group encountered on the floor were a collection of axe-wielders. Almost everyone became engaged in a one-on-one bout with an axe thief - Lucas included. He struggled with the superior strength of his opponent, immediately going into a clash with his Iron Sword against their axe. Luckily for him, the thief hadn't anticipated Lucas using a Fire spell at point blank range. They collapsed backwards onto the floor. A moderately-sized burn hole tore through their clothing and even reached their chest. The thief got back up, their movements staggered. Lucas ended them by slashing at their skull multiple times over until they stopped moving.
"Another kill."
Taking a moment to have a quick break, Lucas checked on his allies. His gaze first landed on Petra, who had deftly danced around her foe's clumsy strikes and struck with fine precision, eliminating the bandit before they could even do anything. Lucas narrowed his eyes.
His gaze then fell upon Caspar, who was relentlessly striking one bandit with a barrage of claw swipes. The professor grinned as he could recognise the usage of 'his' Wolf Fang Fist technique, effectively tearing through what little armor the thief had and soon ruthlessly pulling apart the innards of his chest. Once he was done, Caspar jumped away and excitedly rushed back into battle. Lucas pouted. A tinge of jealousy came over him. He then followed his students' examples.
The Black Eagles as well as the remainder of the knights pushed forward, cutting through the final few axe users. Some mages and sword users closed in. The latter ones were taken care of through a combination of bow-wielding knights along with finishing blows from some of the students. Bernadetta jittered to the side as a fireball passed by her head. Powering through her jitters, the shrinking violet lined up a shot and took out a mage, granting the rest of the team enough momentum to finish off the rest.
More thieves of varying weapon types attacked the squad. Some even tried to employ small scale ambushes by popping up from previously unseen doorways. They were all failures. Although some of them were able to bring death upon a few knights, they were killed fairly quickly. Lucas was forced to use Divine Pulse multiple times to prevent the deaths of his students, namely a careless Linhardt and an overconfident Hubert. The sounds of their screams and cries as axes grinded their skin against the ground kept ringing in his ears, even though he had already prevented them from occurring.
Such terrifying noises would never be forgotten.
As the group made their way around the spiralling floor, they eliminated some extra thieves that stood in their way. Many of the knights that accompanied the squad had perished by that point, yet there were still quite a number of available fighters ready to deal with the last bundle of enemies. Several thieves surrounded a certain red-haired, scarred warrior who wielded a regal lance of immense power. It was clear to the monastery folks who this was.
"Oh great, it's the Knights of Seiros that wanna take my lance from me? Damn you all!" The man rhetorically asked as he slowly turned to face his attackers. "I'll kill you all before you get the chance!"
Lucas clenched both his fist and his teeth, bearing the latter. Byleth tried to help him reign in these feelings, yet an unexplainable anger within Lucas was rising. It only increased the more he stared at the man before him.
"Edelgard," Lucas addressed the princess.
"Yes, Professor?" She asked, awaiting further instructions.
"Try to grab the Lance of Ruin with your Sword of the Creator. I have a plan." Lucas then turned to the rest of his allies. "Anyone that can use spells and bows, keep those other thieves at bay. Everyone else, stay back for now. If Miklan's the sort of man I think he is, then I believe we can secure victory very easily."
"Are you certain this plan of yours shall work?" Gilbert queried, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny.
"It will," snapped Lucas, a frown appearing on his face as he turned to the orange-haired knight.
Gilbert sighed. "If that is what you wish. Should your plan fail-"
"It won't," Lucas interjected. He gripped his Iron Sword.
Miklan could barely hear the vague murmurings these freaks of the church were making. He didn't like them either way. His facial expression made that clear.
"What are you talking about, you bastards? Get yourselves outta here, because there's no way you can take on a Heroes' Relic wielded by me!" Miklan claimed, bellowing at his foes.
"Everyone, now!" Lucas commanded.
As per his instructions, the mages and archers fired their projectiles, keeping the rogues busy. Edelgard took this time to send in an elongated stab of her Sword of the Creator. She aimed it straight for Miklan. While he was initially surprised by the presence of the blade, he grinned as he dodged the attack.
"Now, Edelgard, wrap that thing around the Lance of Ruin!" Lucas continued. "Grab on and don't let go!"
She nodded in confirmation. Seeing as the Sword of the Creator's tip was already near the Lance of Ruin, hooking it around the additional Heroes' Relic was a simple task. Miklan wasn't nearly fast enough to prevent it from happening. He soon found himself in a physical struggle with Edelgard. Thanks to her Crests, she had the advantage.
And that was exactly what Lucas was counting on. He rushed in, attempting to get close to Miklan. Unfortunately, he failed several times, but he was able to retry again and again thanks to Divine Pulse. Eventually, he was able to get face to face with the man.
Without sharing a word, Lucas blasted a Fire spell directly at Miklan's visage. The blow was powerful enough to send the thief leader stumbling backwards somewhat. He lost his grip on his Heroes' Relic, allowing Edelgard to drag it towards herself and successfully retrieve the weapon. Once Miklan realised what happened, he pointed a finger directly at Lucas.
"Y-you! You bastard! You stole my lance! Give it back, now!" Miklan demanded, lunging at the professor with a fist. Lucas simply shot another Fire at him. "Shit!"
Miklan fell onto his back. Lucas followed it up by rushing in and pointing his blade at the scarred rogue's throat, demonstrating his advantage. All of the other thieves turned around upon realising their leader was being attacked, but this in turn caused them to be eliminated by a final onslaught of arrows and spells. The only thief still alive was Miklan.
"You bastard. I've heard about what you've done. Abused your brother because he had something you didn't? You didn't at least try to make something good out of yourself? You had to resort to thievery and murder? How fucking dare you. How dare you abandon your family like that! To leave them and do something so pointless...HOW DARE YOU?!" Lucas yelled, cocking his arm back.
"Heh, you certainly know a lot about me, dog of the monastery. Why the hell are you so concerned with me and what I've done, anyway? It's all in the past! Get over it!" Miklan barked.
"You threw away the only good thing you had. I can't forgive that."
"The only good thing I had?! My family HATED me! Why the hell would I have stayed with them? Who even are you?! Why the fuck would you care about what I did with my family?!"
Miklan, frowning with intense hatred, stared at Lucas for a moment, who bore the same facial expression. Something had caught his attention, clearly, as he then began to laugh. Lucas moved his sword closer to the thief's throat.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" The professor asked.
After calming down from his unusual fit of laughter, Mikan bore a wide grin. "Heh heh, I see it now. I finally get it. I understand why you're so keen on killing me. It's not because of the mission, isn't it, monastery man?"
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Lucas narrowed his eyes.
"I see it in your eyes. Your actions and your words, too. You're screaming at me about my family. That tells me something. You..." Miklan devolved to more laughter.
"Shut up!" Lucas barked, irritated. "What the hell are you saying, arsehole?"
Miklan calmed himself down before allowing himself to speak any further.
"You did something to your family, didn't you?"
Lucas gasped, his eyes wide and his jaw gaping. His hands shook - as did his blade. The shaking travelled up through his arms and to his entire upper body. His mind shut down, preventing him from thinking of any complex thoughts. His breathing became much more rapid and his heart rate increased dramatically. Miklan's grin grew wider.
"I'm right. You did something to your family. Either you left them behind, you killed them or whatever. I bet they don't even like you. In fact, they probably never loved you at all! Ha, you hate me because you know what it's like! I remind you of yourself! You want to stamp out anything that even resembles you! You really hate yourself, huh?"
A red mist appeared over Lucas' eyes. He could hear some noises coming from his side in both the physical world and the mental void within his mind. People from both planes, telling him to do something he didn't care to do. There was only one thing he wanted.
"You're just like m-"
Lucas raised his blade, then stabbed. And another stab. Another stab. A stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab, stab, stab, stab, stab…!
"Professor, stop!" Someone called from the physical realm.
"Stop this, right now!" Someone else demanded from within his mind.
Lucas held his blade in place, the red mist disappearing from view. His mind cleared, its repetitious commands ceasing. He looked down and saw the destruction he realised he was the cause of.
Miklan's body was riddled with holes. His face - horribly disfigured. His eyes - ruptured. It was as if he'd shot the thief with an assault rifle of sorts, yet it was obvious to Lucas that he possessed no such weaponry. Not in his hands, at least.
"My hands!"
Lucas stood back up, his back no longer arching over Miklan's body. Blood continued to drip from his red-soaked hands as well as his similarly drenched sword. Wiping his face with his sleeve revealed there were numerous splashes of blood upon both. He stood there, within the top floor of Conand Tower, entirely speechless.
"Professor."
Someone to his side. He turned. A stern face stared back at him.
"Professor," Edelgard repeated. "Are you calm?"
Lucas nodded, unable to say anything.
"I see. I...I do not know what happened there. I will not assume anything. Know that we must keep moving forwards. Our mission is complete, Professor," Edelgard informed him. She began to leave his side, walking towards a crowd of disturbed faces.
That was when he realised. All of his students were right there, as were those knights.
"Sothis, Byleth. Did I…?" He asked the two within his mind.
"Yes, you did. You refused to listen to me or the princess when we asked you to stop. Now, you see before you what you have caused," Sothis confirmed. "I will not let you avoid this by turning back the hands of time. You shall deal with the consequences."
"Right. It's just-"
"You were blinded by rage. It festered inside of you and grew much too quickly. We can talk more about this later. For now, follow your allies. You need some rest."
Lucas lacked the energy to nod. Instead, he sluggishly dragged his feet forward, sheathing his blood-soaked blade. He followed his friends back the way they all came through the tower, though he kept his distance. An uncomfortable silence fell between them all. Nobody wished to address what occurred. Not even the perpetrator did.
For the first time in a while, Lucas truly felt alone.
Author Notes: Surprising, huh? Lucas really went off the deep end here. I hope I built up to it well enough and I hope I conveyed Lucas' rage effectively. This kind of new territory for me, so let me know if it was good or not! I'm always down for criticism. As long as it's constructive.
Don't forget to join the Fanfiction Treehouse Discord server! I'm there along with a whole load of other cool writers! Here's the invite code: 9XG3U7a.
See y'all next time!
EDIT (29/11/2021): Is Lucas edgy for this? I dunno. Sure hope not.