The Force's Shepherds

Chapter 11

Themis

"This is outrageous!" Chrom roared as he paced to and fro in the council chambers.

"Chrom, please." Emmeryn sighed as she rested at the head of the table that dominated the council room.

"We cannot stand for this, Emm!" Chrom growled as he pounded a fist into the table, "The Plegians have not only attacked Themis. But now, we get an urgent message from Duke Rodrick that Maribelle has been captured and is now a hostage! We should march on them sword and shield in hand!"

"And risk Maribelle's life in the process?" Emmeryn countered. Her voice sharp and powerful.

Chrom recoiled. He had forgotten that, despite how meek his sister could be, she was still the Exalt for a reason. She could tap into the authority that their father had possessed when she needed to. Her attention turned to her two military leaders. Phila, the Wing Commander of the Pegasus Knights, and Edward, the Knight Commander.

Both were peerless warriors. Hardened and molded by the atrocities of the last war with Plegia. The one Chrom's father had fought and died in. Phila was a petite woman. Her hair was already starting to fade into shades of grey. But her eyes held a keen sparkle to them that showed that she thought and fought like a woman far younger than she was.

Knight Commander Edward was a strong looking man. Broad shouldered, with legs and arms as thick as any man's. He was a relentless warrior, an honorable man, and a harsh teacher. Even now, during peacetime, his drilling of the knights were recalled with admiration from those who completed the training, and terror from those still undergoing it. Chrom could recall several moments where Frederick had both smiled and shuddered as he recalled his days training as a squire.

"What do you advise?" Emmeryn asked them.

Phila cleared her throat, "If Maribelle was not involved, I would agree with the Prince." Chorm puffed his chest out a little, "It's time to respond to Plegian threat with force."

"It seems to be the only language they understand." Edward mused as he stroked his chin. A meaty thumb running along a long, thin scar he had gained during the last war, "But the hostage presents an issue. The Duke will insist on her safe return."

"And Duke Rodrick's house is one of the most powerful noble houses." Emmeryn nodded, "We cannot afford to lose his support. Besides, Maribelle is one of our Shepherds." She gave Chrom a sharp look.

A look that pained the Prince's heart. She was right. He was not thinking when he said they should just charge at them blindly. Maribelle was one of his comrades. And he wanted to risk her life just to gain vengeance? He shook his head. But how else were they going to stop Plegian aggression.

"Her safety is paramount in this." Emmeryn furrowed her brow.

"Then what do you wish to do, milady?" Phila asked.

Emmeryn rose from her seat and walked over to the window. She stared out to the city. Just a few moments ago, she had been walking among her people. Enjoying the opportunity to not worry about such monumental decisions. And this one decision before her had the potential to turn all of the gains she had made; all of the peace and prosperity they had all worked so hard to earn and maintain, to ash. Consumed in the fires of yet another war.

Chrom was not yet old enough to remember, but Emmeryn remembered. The horrors of the last war. The fury and sorrow of her people as they lost their husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. The plagues and famine that swept through both Plegia and Ylisse as a result of the carnage, destruction, and unrest.

She could not put her people through such turmoil again.

"Ready my horse. We ride for Themis."

Phila was on her feet in an instant, "Your grace, you cannot mean to-"

"I will parlay with Gangrel. Or whoever led this attack and holds Maribelle hostage." She said, her voice calm yet firm, "War is the last thing I want."

"But we may very well get it." Chrom muttered.

"Nevertheless, we must avoid it at all cost." Emmeryn held her head high, "Chrom-"

"The Shepherd's will be ready to march." He said, avoiding his sister's gaze.

She was not happy with him. That much was clear. Emmeryn was far to kind and forgiving to say anything outright. It was rare for her to get so upset with him. But when she did, Chrom could not help but feel waves of guilt slam through him. But he refused to show his own regret in the situation. He folded his hands behind his back and took a breath.

"Just say the word." Chrom nodded.

Emmeryn nodded back, "We ride immediately."

Phila and Edward rose and saluted.

"I will come with. Some of my pegasus knights will serve as your honor guard." Phila said.

"Thank you, Phila." Emmeryn replied, "Commander Edward, I trust you to run this city while I'm gone."

"And I will run it with honor." Edward replied with a bow.

Emmeryn gave her two military commanders small, gentle smiles. She followed Phila out of the council room. As she stepped out, Chrom began to exit as well. But both went in seperate directions. Emmeryn walked to her chambers. Chrom marched for the Shepherd's barracks. His hand itching to hold Falchion.

….

Robin narrowed his eyes. He stood in the Shepherd's training yard. A mottled patch of grass and dirt. Turf scarred by misfired spells, arrow holes, and gouges from blades digging into the dirt. Across the yard from him were three straw dummies on wooden stakes. Each had a target etched into their burlap skin.

He spread his feet wide and took a deep breath. One hand tensed, the other gripped the spell book that had been in his coat pocket for as long as he could remember. He was looking down at some of the writings within.

The tome was a fascinating, difficult read. Some of the spells written within were still incomprehensible to the tactician. But the basics he knew well enough. A simple fire, lightning, or wind spell was easy to conjure. He gave his magic a small test by firing an arc of razor sharp wind at the first dummy.

The dummy shuddered and the burlap sagged. Some straw burst free from a large gash near the center of the target. A clean hit.

Robin grinned. His fingers flicked through pages until he came upon the next level of spells. The El class of spells. Reinforced lightning, fire, and wind magics that require the mage to draw on much more power in order to cast. His eyes skimmed over the theory and application written within. His sharp mind taking quick note of the instructions and advice within the pages.

He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. He had to draw on not just his own magic for this spell. But the physical magic around him as well. The mana of the world. He could feel energy rushing through his body. It started off as a tingling in his toes and fingertips. Then a buzzing in his legs and arms.

A switch went of in his mind as the power pooled into the spell book then transferred into his open palm. He raised his hand to the sky and released the energy.

Several brilliant bursts of fire rushed from his hand and slammed into the second target. The dry straw and burlap ignited on impact. Robin lips parted into a wide grin.

Success! He cheered as he pumped his fist in the sky.

He reached down to his left. A bucket of water was sitting by his feet. Just in case the spell backfired and he needed to douse himself before burning alive. There was always that possibility when learning a new fire spell.

Robin strode across the yard and splashed the dummy with the water. The flames hissed as they were extinguished. But Robin could see the burlap, straw, and stake were still glowing orange. He felt some pride well up in him.

His flames had been so hot that they still burned even after water had doused them. A vast improvement.

He heard some clapping behind him. Robin turned and saw Ben watching from the barrack's back door.

"Impressive." Ben said.

Robin shrugged, "It's a start."

Ben strode out into the yard with another bucket of water in hand. He passed the bucket to Robin who splashed the dummy one more time. The orange glow disappeared and the heat faded away.

Robin wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

"That took up a lot of energy." He said with a breath.

"First time attempting a spell that powerful?" Ben asked.

Robin nodded, "As far as I can remember, yes. Then again, it came so naturally, that I'm sure I was more than capable of casting before losing my memory." He shrugged, "It's good to get the practice in. The stronger I become, the more help I can be on the battlefield."

Ben nodded, "So you believe war is on the horizon."

Robin grimaced, "I don't want to believe it. But every precursor is there. First the Plegain raiders attacking villages. Tensions rising between the two nations. Alliances forming. Now an outright attack on a major city." Robin put his hands on his hips and shook his head, "Madness. That's what I say."

Ben had to agree. War was indeed madness. Both during and leading up to it. He could not help but think that the force had a strange sense of humor. It had ended and pulled him away from one conflict only to place him in another. HE sighed. Hadn't he seen enough suffering for one lifetime.

He shook the thought from his mind. It did him no good to dwell on it right now. Robin had the right mindset. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

And besides, now was a good time for Ben to finally examine this world's magic more closely.

"How do you do it?"

Robin raised an eyebrow, "Well, being hopeful requires some discipline. Maybe some alcohol in the most dire of circumstances but-"

Ben chuckled, "I meant magic. How do you do it?"

Robin laughed, "Oh! Well… hm." Robin's fingers tapped along his wrist, "That is an interesting question. Is that why you were watching earlier? You were trying to figure out the properties of magic?"

Ben nodded as he followed Robin back to his spot across from the practice targets, "More or less. I've been curious about it since I first witnessed you and Miriel use it."

Robin nodded, "Well, if you're looking to discuss the practical aspects of it, I may be able to help." He tapped his spellbook, "As for the theory, I'd suggest getting Miriel's opinion."

"I'll keep that in mind, but please." Ben motioned at the targets, "Care to demonstrate again?"

Robin smirked, 'Sure. Why not." Robin flipped through the books pages until he found a basic thunder spell, "This is a good chance for me to refresh on the basics."

Ben nodded but did not reply. Instead, he reached out with the force. Attuning his senses so that he could focus even more closely on the power Robin was tapping into.

He sensed nothing at first as Robin took several deep breaths. Just the steady rhythm of Robin's heart and breathing. The training yard was silent.

It started off as a small build up of power. Like a trickling stream along a stony creek bed. Ben's eyes narrowed in concentration as he sensed power surge forth from Robin's core. He then sense something that made his eyes widen. Robin was calling on power from the environment. Ben's jaw fell open. He was tapping into the force.

Robin grit his teeth and positioned an open palm at the third target. A bolt of yellow lightning jumped from his hand and slammed into the target. Scorching the dead center and sent shocks of static through the straw and burlap.

Ben's mind raced. From he had witnessed, the technique Robin used almost looked like a scaled back version of… Ben shuddered a little as he recalled his many battles with Count Dooku during the clone war. The Sith lord had a propensity for channeling lightning using the force. It was not a single bolt like Robin had just done. It was far more broad. A constant stream. But the theory and process were the same. Both had channeled the force, or magic, through their being and discharged it as lightning at their target.

Such power was difficult to control. Let alone master.

"Well?" Robin asked with a smile, "What do you think?"

Ben rubbed his chin. Fingers brushing against the growing whiskers, "I think you have a tremendous amount of power." He murmured. His mind still running through how it was even possible for Robin to be capable of such a thing.

Rudimentary usage of the force was a normal thing for an undiscovered force sensitive. In children, it often manifested itself as a baby subconsciously slowing a rolling ball. Or a child cushioning their fall from a large tree or hill. It manifested in heightened instincts. An ability to predict danger and act swiftly. Rarely did the force do more without proper training.

A good case of a rare example was… Ben felt pain lance through his heart. Anakin was exceptional with the force. Even before he was found by Qui Gon and committed to the Jedi Order, he used it to supplement his physical and cognitive abilities in a way that would make many a padawan envious. Using the force to enhance his reflexes so he could Pod Race. Heightening his senses to detect obstacles and danger. The boy was considered a once in a generation, perhaps even once in a millennium, talent.

And now Ben was on a planet filled with beings who used the Force without traditional training. And they called it magic. Ben rubbed his forehead.

"You ok, Ben?" Robin asked.

"Hm?" Ben had forgotten he was still with Robin, "Yes. Just thinking."

"Still confused?" Robin chuckled.

"A little. But more explanations can wait. It is clear to me that you are a master in magic."

Robin flushed a little, "Well… I… I can't be. There have to be mages elsewhere that are more powerful than me. To use a fisherman's idiom, There's always a bigger fish. So in order to keep up, I practice."

Ben nodded, "But there is another area of combat you need work in."

Robin cringed, "Yeah… I did myself no favors on the Longfort when I grabbed a sword."

Ben chuckled before clapping Robin's shoulder with his hand, "Everyone must start somewhere." Ben strode across towards the barracks wall, where a rack of blunted swords rested. He grabbed two and tossed one to Robin.

The tactician fumbled the blade and it clattered to the ground.

"Sorry." Robin winced.

"You'll get it eventually." Ben replied as he strode out to the grass. He shed his brown cloak and tossed it to the side, revealing plain brown shirt and black pants.

"Not wearing Virion's outfits anymore?" Robin joked.

"I can't." Ben replied, "Too frilly for my tastes."

"We can both agree on that." Robin remarked as he held his sword in one hand, and brush his coat with the other.

Robin swallowed and gripped his blade in front of him with both hands.

"So, what is the lesson today, oh great and mighty Master Ben." Robin teased.

Ben barked out a laugh, "No lesson. Just an evaluation." Ben stood sideways. He pointed two fingers at Robin and held his blade aloft with one hand, "Shall we dance?"

Robin grinned and swung. The metal sang through the fall air before hitting Ben's blade with a loud crack. The dance had begun.

Robin hacked and chopped at Ben. Backing the man up towards the Barracks wall. Keeping the better swordsman on his heels. Robin smiled, very satisfied with his performance. He knew he was not as good as Ben. So if he was to win this little fight, he would have to take the advantage early. Force Ben into submission quickly. Overwhelm him and force him to yield within minutes. If the fight lasted longer than that, then Robin doubted he would win.

But Ben was not overwhelmed despite a flurry of strikes from Robin. Instead, he looked focused. But what struck Robin the most was that Ben was not focused on his blade. He did not watch his blade as it parried blow after blow from Robin. Instead, Ben's eyes were focused on Robin himself. Watching his eyes, his torso, the subtle twitches of muscle in the core and shoulders. The shifting on his legs as his feet jumped in the dirt.

Robin struck at Ben's guard again. He did not get it! How was Ben's defense so perfect while he did not pay attention to it. It was as if the blade was an extension of his being rather than a tool in his hands. Robin's face turned grim. The tactician in him had finally come an unsettling realization. He was outclassed. Ben was just letting him get his cuts before striking back. It wasn't a duel. Ben was right. It was an evaluation. And Robin had a feeling he dissapointed the swordsman.

True to what he thought, Robin raised his blade high overhead and chopped down at Ben. The swordsman nimbly dodged to the side. Then like a viper's tongue, his blunted sword zipped out and smacked Robin on the behind.

"OUCH!" Robin howled as he hopped up and down.

Ben laughed, "You are over eager." He noted, "You look for the quick victory and attack recklessly."

"Only because if I didn't, you would have taken the advantage and beaten me sooner." Robin replied.

Ben shrugged, "Perhaps, but now we will never know. Don't listen to the hypotheticals in your mind. If you want to improve, take note of the mistakes you actually made, and work to fix those."

Ben could already hear the synonym of his wisdom in his mind.

Live in the moment. Not in what was possible. But what was happening right now.

Ben snorted to himself. How was it that he could execute such a philosophy perfectly in battle but not outside of it?

He saw Robin nod in understanding, "Point taken." He rolled his shoulders, "Tango or Salsa?" Robin asked.

Ben arched an eyebrow, "Which dance is more sophisticated?"

"Tango it is." Robin grinned before lunging at Ben.

The move surprised Ben, forcing him to quickly backpedal in order to avoid the tip of Robin's blade. He was so focused on teaching Robin that he had failed to sense the tactician's intentions.

Ben took note of the new style of fighting Robin was using. The tactician had figured out that sweeping chops and hacks did not work against Ben. So he was not using quick thrusts and more advanced footwork. He gave a approving nod. Robin was learning. And Ben was not surprised. He took Robin for a swift learner. Perhaps he was a better swordsman before losing his memory. And now that he had started to dance, his muscles were beginning to recall the movements.

"So," Robin said as Ben casually batted another thrust to the side, "You and the Exalt huh?"

Ben's cheek flushed. He mentally smacked himself. Force, he was a grown man! A member of the Jedi council. Not some hormonal teenager. Even if his body was technically a few years removed from those tumultuous years.

"It is not what you think." Ben replied as they circled each other in the yard.

"Sure it isn't." Robin smirked, "I don't think I've ever seen you with that big of a smile."

Ben felt his cheeks grow hotter. And again, he mentally berated himself. He was a Jedi Master. Attachment and romance should be the last things on his mind.

Pain lanced through his thigh as Robin swept low and jabbed his left leg. Ben jumped and limped a few steps away. Robin beamed at him.

Ben laughed to himself, "Ever the tactician. Using conversation and my own embarrassment to lull me into complacency." He pointed his sword at Robin, "Very clever."

Robin gave him a lighthearted bow, "I graciously accept the Master's praise."

"As you should." Ben laughed before tossing his blade over to Robin. This time, the tactician caught it. He followed Robin over to the sword rack. As Robin set the blades back in their place, Ben found his gaze turning towards the palace.

"The council has been deliberating for a while now, haven't they?"

Robin nodded, "Yes. I would be worried if they didn't though. It's not exactly a simple situation Chrom and Exalt Emmeryn find themselves in."

"Too true."

"What do you think will be their course of action?" Ben asked as he took a seat on the ground. He folded his legs and began to steady his breathing. He still felt flustered from Robin had said. A long meditation would do him some good.

Robin furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, "Your guess is as good as mine. Exalt Emmeryn is a pacifist. I doubt she will want to respond with military force."

"But you think that in this case it is necessary."

Robin nodded, "Definitely. You cannot just roll over and say, we forgive you Plegia, in this case." Robin sat down across from Ben. Legs stretched out. His hands picked at some blades of grass, "That just portrays weakness. And a predator like the Plegian military will only take advantage of that."

"So you view Ylisse's military and their leaders as Prey?"

Robin shook his head, "I never said that. I think Chrom and his abilities in combat speak for themselves in that regard." He sighed, "I just think a conservative approach is the wrong approach in this situation."

Ben nodded. Before he could reply, he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. A young boy with an oversized, pointed, blue hat was peeking at them from around the corner of the barracks.

"We have an audience." Ben nodded.

Robin glanced behind him and saw the boy as well, "Huh? We do. Looks like it's an aspiring mage."

"I'm not just aspiring!" The boy retorted as he emerged from his hiding place, "I am a mage. The best of my age group!"

"Really?" Ben replied, "And how old are you?"

"Thirteen. I'll soon be a man grown!"

"Is that so?"

Ben and Robin turned their heads to the barracks door. Chrom was stepping out into the yard. A grim expression on his face. But he forced the worry away when he saw the young mage.

"So Rickon," Chrom said, "Trying to gain some much needed advice from these two?"

"In my own way, yes." Rickon replied before pulling a spell book from his billowy sleeves, "I was watching Sir Robin and taking notes on how he used magic."

"Sir Robin!" Ben barked out a laugh.

"Eh…" Robin scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, "I'm not really nobility kid."

"Not with that attitude." Chrom replied with a smirk. The prince exhaled, "So… we have our orders you two."

Ben raised an eyebrow.

"Exalt Emmeryn wishes to parlay with King Gangrel. We ride for Themis immediately."

"Can I come!?" Rickon asked. His youthful eyes pleading for a chance to prove himself.

"The battlefield is no place for a child, Rickon." Chrom responded.

Ben's eyes lowered. An all too true statement. One the Jedi Order had not followed towards the end of the Clone War. He failed to remember when their situation had become so desperate that the council was willing to place padawans no older than younglings in the line of fire.

"I thought you said parlay?" Robin noted.

Chrom frowned, "I doubt it'll be a simple negotiation. King Gangrel is mad. I expect violence."

"But Exalt Emmeryn does not." Ben said.

A frustrated breath left Chrom's lips, "She far too often refuses to see the evil in people rather than the good. She believes peace can still be maintained."

"And you don't?" Robin asked.

Chrom shook his head, "If I had my way, I would have already begun marching on Plegia as soon as they started sending raiders to burn our villages."

Ben's mind drifted as Robin and Chrom continued to talk. Emmeryn's philosophy, to see the good in people and avoid a conflict as much as possible. It was so much like… Ben could already feel some pain in his heart. It was so much like Satine. Too much like the late Duchess of Mandalore.

"With how dangerous it is, you're going to need all the help you can get!" Rickon said, trying to persuade Chrom to let him join the march.

"Yes, I do need all the help I can get. And the help I need from you is here. In the city." Chrom replied, "I need you to keep an eye on everything for me."

"How is that helping!?" Rickon asked.

"It does more than you know." Chrom replied, "Ben, Robin. Are you ready to go?"

Robin nodded, "I just need to grab a couple things before we go."

Ben sighed, "It will be a long walk to the border."

Chrom raised an eyebrow as the trio strode into the barracks, "Who said we were walking?"

Ben froze mid-step. His eyes darted out the window to the stables. Frederick was already preparing multiple horses for the Shepherds. The saddles were polished and oiled. The saddlebags packed with provisions and ready for the long ride ahead.

"You mean-"

"We are riding." Chrom said, "Time is of the essence."

Ben gulped. He really did not like using transportation he could not easily control. And if the flying version of these creatures were anything to go by, then the normal horse was going to be just as temperamental with him. Ben sucked in a large breath.

This was going to be a very long journey to Themis.

….

Emmeryn's eyes filled with sorrow as she rode through the charred ruins of Themis' Eastern district. The many huts and houses that most of the common folk had lived in, had been reduced to ashes. Husks of the homes they once were. Some were still burning. Many citizens till working around the clock to put out the fires before they could spread.

Smoke hung in the air like a heavy fog. She could hear her two guards, a pair of pegasus knights that rode with her, cough every so often from the billow black clouds around them. It choked the senses. Burned her nostrils and dried her throat. Then there was the stench. The rot of decaying corpses yet to be discovered and buried. The Plegians who had attacked the city had done irreparable damage. She could see that from some of the haunted expressions on her people's faces.

The reality of war seemed to finally hit her brother Chrom as well. His looked pale as they rode through the carnage. But he kept his composure. He had to stay strong for Lissa. The innocent cleric in training who rode beside him. Her little sister was on the verge of tears. Horrified by what she saw.

"Damn desert rats." Duke Roderick growled as he rode side by side with Exalt Emmeryn.

The Duke was a hard man. A warrior to the core. Bred for battle, trained for combat. When the attack hit his city, he had quickly organized his guards and sent the raiders running for the hills. But not before they had started a massive fire that scorched his city. And not before his daughter, Maribelle, and charged after the attackers with some men. Seeking justice.

It was a foolhardy decision. But one Emmeryn should have expected from fiery Maribelle. But it had only served to make the situation far more complicated and dangerous.

She did not delude herself. King Gangrel was mad. That much was apparent. Only a madman would so brazenly attack an enemy, hoping to provoke a vicious response. Only a madman would wish for war. It was as if he had not learned from the mistakes of the past. Nevertheless, he was the leader of his nation. As such, Emmeryn needed to negotiate with him. Hopefully reason would win out today. And a war could be avoided.

They reached the outskirts of the city. The Exalt inclined her head towards the grassy hills that marked the border between Plegia and Ylisse. Beyond those hills was the vast desert lands of Plegia. A harsh land that created harsh people.

Sitting at the peak of one hill, was a contingent of Plegian soldiers. And lounging on a chair in the center of them, was King Gangrel himself. The jagged crown atop of his head impossible to miss. Emmeryn sat up straighter in her saddle. She took a deep breath.

"Are you sure about this, your grace?" Phila asked once again.

Emmeryn exhaled and nodded.

Phila returned a stiff nod, "Knights. Protect the Exalt at all costs. If you sense any hint of treachery, take to the skies and evacuate her immediately."

Emmeryn's small escort of Pegasus Knights saluted Phila.

"That goes for you as well, Shepherds." Chrom said, "We defend the Exalt. No matter what."

Emmeryn closed her eyes. Took one more calming breath. Then spurred her horse forward. So many people were willing to risk their lives for her. To give up their lives in defense of her own. Hopefully it did not come to that.

….

King Gangrel's teeth sank into the skin of a ripe, ruby red apple. He munched on it loudly. Savoring the juices that over his tongue, out of his lips, and down his pointed chin. A grin was on his face as he lounged on a chair overlooking the burning city of Ylissean City of Themis.

His eyes blazed with delight as shadows danced from the flames. Beside him, he heard one of his advisers, a member of the Grimleal named Aversa, hum in approval. The witch was an intimidating figure. One of the few Grimleal who aimed to intimidate with just a look, rather than hide behind robes and spells. Her hair was stark white. Almost like the snows of Regna Ferox. But her attire was black and thin. Designed to withstand the heat of the Plegian desert. Her narrow eyes held a cunning to them that unsettled many lesser men.

Gangrel did not think of himself as one of those lesser men. The witch could try to intimidate him if she wished. She would not get very far. But that had never happened. Instead, the Grimleal had proven to be a valuable counselor. Her and Validar's magic had allowed Gangrel's influence to grow. His grip on power in Plegia to become ironclad. And now, with his armies finally at full strength and his people behind him, he wished to claim the ultimate prize.

He wanted to destroy Ylisse. Crush her people beneath his bootheel. Watch as those dogs bled on their city streets and in their pathetic villages. And he was getting some of that blood lust sated now. But only some. Unfortunately, Themis could not be outright attacked and sacked.

For one, his advisers had told him it would be best to provoke Ylisse. It would make the people want to fight harder if they appeared to be the aggressors. An army was always stronger when they were fighting for their home rather than fighting to take another's land. Gangrel felt that line of thinking to be paltry. His army was ready. And the Ylissean's, under their weakling of a leader, were soft. Ready to be annihilated. Just as Exalt Emmeryn's father had done to his people, Gangrel wanted to do tenfold to hers.

The other reason Themis could not be attacked in an all out assault was the sheer scale of the city. The walls were old and thick. And the Duke was a strong man. A powerful warrior with a will of iron. In a way, Gangrel thought of him as one of the true strong Ylisseans on the continent. But certainly not a man after his own heart. The Duke did not even pursue him after he sent small war parties to burn the city outskirts. Instead he sent his little daughter.

Gangrel glanced behind him. Kneeling on the cracked earth, hands tied up with cords behind her back, was Maribelle of Themis. The Duke's daughter. A foolish little girl. Gangrel snorted. She sought justice. Now she would learn there was no such thing for the weak.

He tossed his half eaten apple to the side.

"Aversa, how much longer must we wait for them?" He drawled, a finger twirling a strand of his rust colored hair.

The witch opened her mouth to speak. But another advisers voice drifted through the smoke scented air.

"They approach, your Highness."

Gangrel raised an eyebrow and turned to look at his newest adviser. A man who he still did not know the name of. But Validar assured the King that this man was intelligent and just as ruthless as he was. His opinion would be most valuable. Gangrel doubted that. While he did not doubt this, man's (If he could call him that) intellect, he did doubt how he could contribute to military strategy.

He was a damn cripple after all. He hobbled along on legs that looked like they could barely function. Rested almost all of his weight on a strange metallic cane. Then there was that boy he dragged around with him. Gangrel assumed at first the taller man was just a silent guardian. Charged with protecting the red skinned creature that was now his adviser. He was proven wrong. Apparently the boy was an apprentice of some sort. Perhaps a Grimleal initiate? Gangrel shrugged to himself. Regardless of who they were, they had stones to interrupt Aversa.

"How can you be so sure?" Gangrel asked as he set his feet up onto the arm of the velvet chair he sat in. Boredom clear on his face, "I'm getting bored. Watching a city burn is exhilarating at first. But I'd prefer to have my blade cut through Ylissean flesh."

Aversa directed a scowl at the hunched man in black robes, "Loathe as I am to admit it, our friend is correct." She pointed at the city outskirts.

Gangrel's eyes widened with glee. Riding out from the city, with several shining pegasus knights in tow, was the Exalt of Ylisse. That naive and foolish little girl, Emmeryn. Gangrel chuckled to himself. He may not see it now, but he knew that her young eyes were red with tears. Her smooth cheeks wet with tears. How she wept for the common folk.

It was a shame that she did not understand reality. She could weep for dead peasants all day, but that would not change the fact that they would not shed a single tear for her.

"Apprentice." He heard his new adviser growl, "Take a group of soldiers to the rear with Orton."

"Yes Master." The boy replied, his voice quiet.

Gangrel eyed the boy as he walked away, snapping his fingers at Orton to follow. Gangrel saw his General grit his teeth. Irked by being ordered around by some mage. If the boy was a mage that was? He still did not know what the creature and his little apprentice were.

"The Exalt does not ride alone." Aversa noted.

Gangrel's attention returned to the riders charging from the burning city. The Exalt rode in the front, two pegasus knights on either side of her. Behind her riding on normal horses, was… Gangrel began to cackle. He could not believe his luck. Not just her little brother the Prince, but her little sister too!

Today, fortune smiled on him. Maybe he'd be able to wipe out the entire royal line in one fell swoop.

"Bide your time, my lord." His hunched adviser said, "Killing all three will not be as easy as you believe."

Gangrel cast the hooded creature a wary glance. How did he know of his thoughts just now? He snarled and stomped to his feet. Red cape sweeping out behind him as he grew enraged.

"A weak girl and her two idiotic siblings are no trouble at all for me."

"Maybe." The creature then laughed. At him! The nerve! "But what about his men?"

Gangrel narrowed his eyes at the approaching riders. Not only did the Duke of Themis come riding as well. But a small squad of Pegasus riders rode behind him. Then behind them, trotting easily across the grassy plain, was Ylisse's damn Shepherds.

Gangrel snarled.

"Remember our ultimate goal, your grace." Aversa cautioned, "While I want to slay these Ylissean dogs as much as you do, we must claim the Fire Emblem."

Behind Maribelle's eyes widened.

"You bastards!" She struggled against her guard, "Unhand me troglodyte! Or so help me when I do get free I will shove my staff straight up your-"

"Gag her or cut out her tongue, I don't care." Gangrel groaned, "But shut her up!"

"Gag her." Aversa quickly ordered. They needed their hostage unharmed. At least for now.

"You will do no such thing! Get that filthy rag away from…. Mmmm… hmph.. Hmph hmph!"

Gangrel massaged his temple, "Why can't we just execute her."

"A hostage is a valuable piece to hold." Aversa said, "We can gain much from her."

"But we are just going to kill them all anyways. Why wait?"

"Because then the Ylisseans will not wait to kill you." His monstrous adviser said. Gangrel was taken aback by his blunt demeanor, "The Exalt may be a foolish pacifist. But her brother is not. And as far as I can see, it is just Aversa." Gangrel felt the breath catch in his throat as the hood looked up ever so slightly. Burning yellow eyes, like hot coals, blazed hatefully at him, "And me standing in their way. And as you so eloquently put when I we were introduced, I am a helpless cripple."

Gangrel could not miss the hint of mockery in the monster's voice. But he was unable to raise his voice in protest. Those eyes. They burned straight through his very being. It was as if this man was inside of his very mind. Seeing every thought and laughing in amusement. He felt like he was being toyed with as a lion toys with a caught mouse.

"How should we approach these," Aversa chuckled darkly, "Negotiations?"

Gangrel smirked, "These dogs won't let one of their pack be harmed. The Fire Emblem will be ours. I'm certain."

He looked back at his terrifying adviser. He now stood near Aversa, leaning heavily on his cane. His eyes were not focused on Gangrel. They did not appear focused on the Exalt either, even as she drew with shouting distance of them. His eyes were focused solely on one rider in the Exalt's group. A young man with short hair, a brown hooded cloak, and an uncomfortable expression on his face.

The monster's grip on his cane tightened.

"Come to me." He growled, "Feel fear again."

And chapter! We are going to jump right into the next part of our story! This was a very fun chapter for me to write. Especially Robin and Ben's interaction. Those two are quickly becoming friends. I love it! Anyways, let me know what you all think of this chapter! As always, I hope you all enjoyed! Have a nice day!