After his time in the garden, the young prince Marth was attending to his personal studies in his private quarters… at least that was what he had told his sister he would be doing at this time. On his writing desk there was a map of the entire continent laid out for him to see. In truth, all the angst for his father's departure had him obsessed with tracing their intended route across the map. He would trace his feather pen across the map and would stop at every point that a battle seemed possible with the final battle being in Dolhr to Altea's southeastern direction. In Dolhr, his father would face off against Medeus, the shadow dragon himself, where he would once again be slain by Falchion! At least, that is what his young brain had gathered from his father and various banter among the soldiers. Marth tried to imagine what it would be like in every skirmish his father would surely face, but of course it was impossible for him to comprehend.

"Prince Marth… Are you awake? Begging your pardon, sire, but the princess has asked to see you." A knock came at Marth's door accompanying the voice, causing him to snap back into reality after being so entranced in his map.

"Y-Yes! One moment please!" Marth replied from the other side of the door, stumbling to his feet. He motioned over to the door before opening it slowly, gazing at a castle soldier who was out of breath. "Elice wants to see me? Is she alright?"

"She seemed to be, sire, but her words implied a certain urgency," the soldier informed, stopping to catch his breath, "She bade you dress quickly and wait by the throne."

"It certainly must have been urgent if it pushed you to come all the way over here so fast… Has something happened?" The prince's tone was now nervous as a feeling of concern rose within him from the implications of the news.

"It's our forces off to Aurelis, sire. There seems to have been some sort of incident, but…" The soldier paused, looking to his side as if he was embarrassed, "Well, I'm not privy to the specifics." Marth's heart had sanken from these words, his thoughts going to his father.

"I see… Thank you. I'll be there shortly." Marth replied, watching the soldier walk off. What had happened during the army's march? Had his father lost? No, it couldn't be. Perhaps it was good news that the war had already come to an end! Yes, that could be it! Regardless, Marth put on his boots and grabbed his rapier just in case, heading out of his quarters to make his way to the throne.

"This incident in Gra," he thought, "Whatever the news is I hope it's good news…" As he approached the throne, the castle was awfully quiet. It was as if nobody was there, hell he hadn't even seen that many castle soldiers on the way here. As he was about to reach the throne an unfamiliar voice boomed behind him.

"Over there, that's him! Prince Marth!" Marth turned around in response to the voice, seeing another soldier, however this one had armor different than that of Altea's. Was it an intruder?

"Who are you?!" He asked in a shout of surprise, confusion, and slight terror. As he continued to eye the soldier he slowly slid his hand to his sword in its sheath, having a bad feeling about the situation. Other soldiers were coming up behind as well, there being about 3 of them.

"We're soldiers of Gra, little prince. And if you know what's good for you, you'll surrender to us without making any trouble!"

"Surrender? But that's ridiculous… Why would I surrender to the army of an allied kingdom?" Marth asked utterly confused, getting extremely worried now, beginning to draw his blade.

"Heh… They don't tell you much, do they? No matter," the soldiers began to get closer, "You'll have the full story soon enough! Now lay down that sword!" Marth decided to do what his father would do, even if he was utterly terrified.

"I will not," he began with an upright and confident stance, "I am the prince of Altea. I will not yield to you or any other nation, here on my land, under my own castle roof!" As he spoke sweat dripped down his forehead as this little brave stunt of his could easily get him killed and he knew this. The soldier simply grinned, getting even closer.

"You talk big, brat. Admirable. Have it your way. If you won't lay down your sword, then we'll just have to take your life instead!" With this, Marth got into a battle stance that he had learned from his father, challenging the soldiers to attack. He might die here, but at the very least it may give other innocents the chance to escape. He was the son of Cornelius, not just some push over! The soldiers gazed at each other, chuckling at his defensive stance.

"Oh? You challenge us? Instead of running away, you challenge us?" One of them taunted, Marth's gaze narrowing in on them showing he was indeed serious.

"Very well, then. Don't blame us when your blood is all over the castle corridor!" One soldier said, charging right at the prince. Marth took a deep breath before successfully parrying the blow like he was taught before swinging around and delivering a strong but not fatal blow to the soldier, them falling to the ground with a groan.

"The hell…? How did this little brat do that?" One of the other two grumbled in response, circling around the prince cautiously before blocking his path to the throne.

"I guess I'll have to fight them to get to the throne after all… If I stay calm, I can win this…" Marth thought, staring the remaining two down intently.

"You just got lucky, kid! I dare you to try that again!"

"Why don't you first?" He mocked in an attempt to bait them out, it evidently working as both came at him at once, Marth swiftly dodging their angry and sloppy footwork, delivering a powerful blow to both of their backs before making his way to the throne.

"Almost there…!" He thought before spotting another soldier out of the corner of his eye, them heading right toward the throne.

"I commend you for fighting back, but it ends here!" The soldier shouted with rage, blocking his path.

"No! I need to be rid of you before my sister arrives…"

"Sorry, ain't gonna happen you brat! But hey, maybe if your sister's cute I'll keep her alive and make her a good souvenir! Haha!" This statement enraged the prince so much that he charged right at the soldier without wasting even a second, slicing right into him before he could even defend.

"Damn brat..."

"You will not speak of my sister that way! This will teach you a lesson!" Marth yelled in frustration, the soldier falling to the ground.

"Marth," called a familiar feminine voice, "are you alright?" The prince gazed to his side to see his sister, Elice, tears coming to his eyes to see that she was okay.

"S-Sister! Thank goodness you're safe! W-What is going on here?" He asked, unable to control himself.

"Steady yourself, Marth. I have grave news. Our father… was defeated by the Dolhr-Grust allied forces…"

"W-What? How can that be…?"

"It was the doing of Gra. Our own ally betrayed us and struck Father's forces from behind. I am…" She paused, trying to hold back her own emotions, "I am not sure if he is safe. The scouts who returned gave conflicting reports… They had no sight of sir Jagen or our father anywhere on the battlefield…"

"Father… It can't be…" Emotions flowed through Marth violently at this news, his tears for his sister's safety running dry, but only because of the weight of the tragedy he had heard was too much for him to handle.

"As we speak, soldiers sent by Gra are trying to take the castle. Mother and I were separated during the escape… I-I do not know where she is." Elice's words began to crack as she continued, the young prince only able to stay silent as he took it all in.

"Marth, I need you to listen to me. You must flee the castle, go on without me…"

"W-What?! No, I can't!"

"Please listen! We've not many soldiers left… This is hard to bear, I know, but the castle is lost. We must face that. I will look for mother and join you as soon as I can! You must go find Frey and Abel, have them lead you to Jagen if he still yet lives and get away from here- far away." She looked away not wanting to face what sort of betrayed look her brother must have had. "...Understand?"

"...All right. But promise you won't be long!" Marth said, embracing his sister tightly before running off, holding back his tears with great strength.

"Goodbye Marth… may you live long…" Elice said softly, unable to hold back her own tears any longer.

"You done with your little pathetic show?" Asked a deep voice, sounding as if it came from all directions.

"Who goes there?" Elice replied, gazing down the stairs that lead up to the throne to see a cloaked individual making his way up them. Her stomach began to sink as the aroma shrouding him reeked of pure sin.

"You truly are the princess, aren't you? You look just like the queen."

"W-What did you do to my mother?!" Elice shouted, her voice full of dread. Her strong face began to fade as terror filled her being.

"Rather than tell you, perhaps I should demonstrate?" The cloaked individual then let out a chilling cackle of a laugh, blue glowing eyes peering out from under his hood, them gazing right at her. As the figure drew closer Elice fell into acceptance, closing her eyes as she didn't want to see any longer.

"Brother… I'm sorry…"

Back to Marth:

The prince ran as hard as he could, not even taking a second to look back. It was hard, but he needed to run. His mother, his father, and now his sister… how had he managed to lose all in one day?

"Sire!" A voice called out in his direction, it very familiar. Marth looked over to see Frey and Abel coming in his direction at high speeds on horseback, relieved to see they were still alive.

"Frey! Abel! You're still alive!" Frey and Abel were two of the best knights the Altean army had ever had, Abel being a mere upstart as well. He was calm and acted as an effective opposite to Cain which is why they have been battle partners ever since training in the academy. Frey on the other hand was in his early 30s, carrying an often cold and almost detached expression most of the time and never opened up to anyone on a personal level. Despite this, he was as loyal as they come and is even princess Elice's personal knight, serving Altea diligently.

"Yes, sire. Princess Elice bade us protect you. We are in route of the exit, we should move as quickly as possible." Abel said with urgency as he spotted Gra soldiers making their way down to their level of the castle.

"Elice…" Marth had his head down, reminded of the fact that they were separated. "Abel, will she come back?" Abel was caught off guard by the question, unable to hold a straight face as he gazed into the prince's eyes.

"Well I-"

"Please tell me she'll be alright!" Marth pleaded, starting to tear up once more.

"Sire," Frey's voice sounded as it cut off the prince, it cold yet threaded with urgency. "We must act quickly. I hear Sir Jagen awaits us at the gate! The time for tears is later, we must not let him pay for our sadness with his life!" Abel looked over at Frey not surprised by his tone whatsoever, but he was right.

"Jagen still lives…? Very well then, you're right. Let us go then!" The prince rubbed his eyes before beginning to run to the exit, Frey and Abel at both sides of him. Archers peered over the walls from above, attempting to reign arrows down on the three, just barely missing them as they moved by.

"As I thought there are soldiers waiting at the exit," Frey began as a group of men bearing the Gra emblem on their armor crowded around the exit, "We must make one decisive strike or else Jagen and the others will be trapped like mice! There's no telling when they will call in their elite!" Marth nodded not hesitating for a moment as he ran right up to a soldier, striking them down where they stood. Safety was only a secondary concern, they needed to move fast. Soldiers came right for Frey and Abel but they were outmatched, Frey blocking the hit with ease before making a clean and decisive blow with his lance right into their chest. Abel took a clean shot from afar with a javelin, it piercing right into the soldier causing them to fall to the ground in pain, him skillfully retrieving the spear from the soldier's body as he rode by.

"The exit is just a bit farther, sire. Don't slow down now!" Abel advised, Marth nodding as he pressed on. As they were about to reach the castle gate a soldier wearing heavy army rounded the corner causing them to halt in place.

"Where do you think you lot are going?" The soldier, who appeared to be a higher up, sneered, giving a signal as a bunch of archers took aim at the three from above. Trapped.

"No! Is this the end…?" Marth gazed around, seeing the other soldiers closing in from behind.

"Looks like you caught on. You know when to quit, that's good."

"It's not over just yet, my prince." Frey began, "Abel, you and I will flank him from both sides an-"

"Spare yourselves the effort," The general chuckled in amusement, "King Jiol would be very pissed if he found out I just let the future king of Altea just walk right by me!" Frey and Abel tensed up, Marth beginning to fall into hopelessness. This couldn't be it! Just then, a lance stabbed right through the general, it cracking his armor on the other side as he let out a scream of pain.

"Is that so," began the voice of an older man, "Well unfortunately I'm already more angry than your king could ever be!" As the general fell to the ground, the figure of Jagen became visible directly behind him, a few other altean soldiers rushing in with javelins in hand, taking perfect shots at the archers above them.

"Jagen!" Marth cried, running over to him, "You still live!"

"Don't underestimate me my prince," he chuckled, "These old bones won't hold me back just yet!"

"Yes, of course." Marth laughed in return. Abel and Frey, although he wasn't exactly smiling, were delighted to see the veteran knight too. However, Abel's smile began to fade as he could not find his partner among the knights who returned.

"Jagen, where is Cain?" Abel asked concerned. Jagen looked at the green haired knight in sorrow and disappointment, letting out a sigh.

"He was supposed to come back with me from the field, but about halfway here I turned around and… he was gone."

"I.. see…" Abel said solemnly, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"Cain's dead…?" The young prince mumbled out, hoping it wasn't so.

"That's the most likely event, sad to say. I would like to assume it wasn't out of an act of carelessness… Perhaps he couldn't abandon your father, Marth. He really was a true knight til the end." Jagen answered reluctantly, placing his hand on Marth's shoulder to provide some sort of comfort.

"Y-You shut your damn mouth… old man!" Called out a voice all too familiar to the knights, them looking over to see the bloody and half broken sight of Cain as he slowly made his way over to them, leaving a red trail.

"Cain!" Abel called out, excited to see his friend still lived.

"Cain, I-" Jagen began before getting cut off.

"I told you to shut your damn mouth!" Cain said again before coughing up blood. "There was nothing… knightly about what happened back there! Do you hear me?!" As he continued his voice became less angry and more remorseful as it seemed a wave of regret came over the hot headed knight. Abel and Jagen remained silent as Cain got closer.

"Cain! Those wounds, what happened?" Marth asked worried, Cain turning his attention to the prince, his eyes widening as if being shook to the core.

"Sire… Thank goodness," He said in a suddenly soft tone, trying hard to keep his balance. "That his majesty's message would go undeliv...agh…!"

"Cain! Please, save your strength. Those wounds… I don't even know how you managed to make it all the way back here with damage like that." Cain then fell to his knees in front of the prince, his head down in shame.

"Sire… I-I'm sorry… I couldn't save him…" he said almost inaudibly. Marth frowned, knowing what he meant by this, but forced a neutral look to stay strong.

"It's okay Cain, I'm sure you did everything you could." These words made the red haired knight raise his head to look at the prince, but as he looked into his eyes a mass flood of tears came down that mixed with the blood, him beginning let out soft groans of despair. The undeniable disappointment in the eyes of Marth was enough to drive him insane as the tears continued to flow and his groans became louder.

"No! Sire! Y-You don't understand!" He began to cry out, Abel looking away from the sight. "Don't e-excuse me, I…!" Eventually the guilt became unbearable as he couldn't look into the eyes of the prince any longer, them cutting right through him. "If it weren't for my carelessness, your f-father… he… he might have still been…" he lost control of his emotions, his groans turning into dreadful wails in the presence of the prince whose father he left to die. Everyone was quiet as Cain cried out his soul, including Marth. After a few moments, Marth placed his hand on Cain's shoulder, him becoming softer now.

"Cain, I know it must be hard, but I know you wouldn't have come back here unless my father gave you a good reason… So please, stand up and let's get out of here before those untreated wounds take your life. I don't want another person to die today." He told him softly, the red haired knight beginning to pull himself together.

"Sire is right," Frey finally spoke, "We must get out of here now! The enemy is upon us now!" Cain nodded slightly, beginning to stand up with the help of Abel.

"Sorry about that sad show…" He said softly, looking away from Marth.

"Don't worry about that now," Jagen began, "We can talk once we are somewhere safe!" They all nodded in agreement, beginning to move away from the castle and once they were a decent distance away Marth stopped and turned to take one last look at his home as it fell to ruin. However, no tears came from his eyes, only a look of emptiness accompanied by an early onset of vengeance. And upon seeing this look on the prince's face, Cain knew that he could never truly forgive himself for what happened…

All that was left of the battlefield where Cornelius faced off with Tobias was a steep hill of rocks along the mountainside, an eerie silence in the air as it was completely devoid of life. This long silence was then interrupted by the sounds of rock breaking from within the hill until eventually a hand came out and slowly pushed aside other rocks to reveal more and more of an arm. Eventually it was able to start prying itself out of the ruin, revealing the beaten face of King Cornelius himself gasping for air. Using Falchion, he broke out of the debris, standing on his own two feet, barely holding on to life.

"Like… I was going to die… with that fiend…" He groaned out in a shortness of breath, beginning to walk away from the slope of rocks. "I should… have enough strength to find shelter somewhere, and then… I can recover." He let out an agonizing cough, trying to control his breathing. "Marth… Elice… Liza… don't worry, I'll come back for you… just wait… urgh!" As he continued to walk a shadowy presence loomed over him before eventually materializing in front of him, Cornelius stepping back to gaze at the figure.

"Where do you think you're going, king of Altea?" Asked an utterly hideous voice that reeked of darkness and the most unholy of evil. There was only one person who this could be.

"So… I take it that you're Gharnef?" Cornelius asked in between his heavy breathing.

"How sharp of you! Yes, tis I, Gharnef!"

"Hmph… You're even more hideous than I would have thought…" Cornelius mocked with a smirk. Gharnef frowned before laughing hysterically.

"How amusing! Here you are at death's door and all you have to say are petty insults! You must really not want to live, king Cornelius!"

"You couldn't be more wrong, you unholy freak! I intend to leave here alive. Do not underestimate me, for I wield Falchion!"

"Hoho! Quite the bravado you have, your majesty. Perhaps you should try your might against the Dark Pontifex!" Gharnef challenged, leaving himself open.

"Don't give me such an easy shot! I'll cut you down where you stand!" Cornelius shouted, charging at Gharnef with all the speed he could manage, preparing to take a powerful swing at the fiend. However, as he got closer to him his senses became distorted. The figure of Gharnef multiplied, him appearing to dizzily hit him… yet he didn't see him fall.

"Witness the power of Imhullu, fool!" Gharnef cackled from all 4 directions. Cornelius's sense returned to him to find himself swinging at nothing, turning to see Gharnef behind him.

"What?!"

"Know how truly unmatched you are!" Gharnef laughed before casting a dark spell that surrounded the weakened king, him grinning the whole time.

"What is this… I can't move!" He groaned, trying to fight against the manipulative magic. His life flashing before his eyes before he felt his life energy decaying from within. It was the end…

"Marth… forgive your… foolish father…!" His body was then completely vaporized amidst the dark magic, leaving only Falchion to be seen.

"Praise be to his majesty!" Gharnef mocked, gazing down at the golden blade. "Oh! What's this? Well, I don't think he'll need it where he's going so… I'll just hold onto it!" Gharnef then picked it up, looking at his reflection in the craft, smiling sinisterly before once again laughing hysterically. "Would you look at that! I just became unstoppable! Not even Medeus can stand against me with this blade in my posession! Just you wait, fools! This is the beginning of an era where the world belongs to me!"