Really respect writers now because this hard as hell. I'm using probably 30-50% recycled dialogue, and I'm still struggling to put together decent quality chapters every week. This is a hell of a project right now.

Thank you, as always, to the readers. I understand that a war story isn't the most fun to read. I'm working on some other content that isn't as dark.

This chapter really is for introducing Minerva more than anything. Most of the action in the DS game is through ambush spawns: the base enemies are cannon fodder.

[Living Quarters, 2 days after the relief of Aurelis: 19:00]

"Caeda," King Mostyn said. "We are sending a flock with our latest technology. And your repaired Gunship. Will you be in Lefcandith Valley for long?"

"We should be, Father," Caeda replied. "Is this line secure?"

"It is. I miss you, my girl," King Mostyn said.

"Aww… I miss you too Father!" Caeda replied. "I really wish I were at home…"

"Well," he sighed. "The Prince deserves our best for the task he is about to take." He laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't have raised you so well."

Caeda laughed with her father. They talked about things. She told her father about all the people she had met: Princess Nyna, Prince Hardin, the King of Aurelis, and every new ally. She asked about Castor's mother. At one point, her mother came by and talked to Caeda as well. Her mother teased her about Prince Marth for a bit, embarrassing Caeda, before resuming her duties in running the household.

Is it really this obvious?

"Well, I know you must be busy," King Mostyn said. "Please tell Marth that a few new toys are coming his way."

"I will."

[Tents, 1 week later 12:30]

"Prince Marth," Hardin called. He walked briskly up to the younger prince with his tablet in hand.

"Yes, Prince Hardin?"

"I reviewed your plans. Indeed, the area seems suitable for a defense. However, we are quite deep into enemy territory. Your informant. Is he here?"

"She, my friend," Marth said. "Prince Hardin, this is the informant: Athena. She is a mercenary and spy my father hired for his campaigns during the last wars."

Hardin shook her hand.

"Cornelius vas a good man. His son is no different. Ve only help 'cause of our loyalty."

Hardin was taken aback. Marth noticed this and dismissed her.

"Marth, she can barely speak the common language. Are you-"

"Hardin, she's not from around here. For some reason, the word 'I' doesn't exist where she's from," Marth said, shaking his head. "Anyway, it looks like they intend to force us back while launching an initial bombardment by these," he explained, pointing to the map. "This is what we're up against." Marth swiped on his tablet.

Hardin's eyes widened. "VTOL Jets… that means-"

Marth nodded. "Macedon's real Air Force is here. I anticipate an attack by night. They have enemy launch points in this area," he said, circling on his tablet.

Hardin's brow furrowed. "I fought a bombardment by the Macedonian Air Force. They have resources unlike any normal air force, especially if the Whitewings are involved. This area is barely functional as a base. You're asking for us all to get killed."

"We stand a fighting chance if we can deploy anti-air assets, and we can defend the initial onslaught. This base isn't well defended aside from some cavalry and one or two heavy armor companies," Marth countered. "The air force isn't likely to strike like they usually do if they experience heavy losses initially because they're in a stop loss mindset right now."

Hardin thought for a moment. Marth spoke again:

"You really beat them back, Prince Hardin. That was excellent timing."

"It was nothing. You did most of the work," he said, shrugging it off. "What's next?"

"I need you to do this: have Wolf and Sedgar man anti-air positions. Been a while since we've had mobile anti-air weapons. The bulk of the plan is up to you."

"Copy, commander," Hardin acknowledged. They exchanged salutes.

"Thank you, Prince Hardin. I'm counting on you."

[Enemy Launch Pad 1:30]

"General Harmein," Minerva called. The old general stopped. He smirked at the tall, red-haired woman.

"What is it Minerva?"

"I cannot abide by these tactics of yours. Let me attack the rebels head-on, and keep my pride as a knight of Macedon."

"Ah, you mean the same pride that cost us all those soldiers back in Aurelis?" Harmein asked.

"But-"

"I think not, Princess. If we're to regroup, we need to buy time. My tactics are necessary. The emperor himself has named me commander of this post," Harmein said "Either obey, or accept the consequences." He smiled devilishly. "Your little sister Maria is still under our word, is she not? What a shame it would be... if we decided we could no longer care for her…"

"Enough!" Minerva said, struggling to contain herself. "…I will obey. But the Altean knights are smarter than you give them credit for. They will prevail here, and you will regret having acting so rashly, General."

Minerva turned and began preparing for launch.

"Whitewings, we're not hunting today. We're to maintain position in order to feint air superiority over the rebels," she reported over radio.

"Ma'am-" Palla started.

"Just- just follow the plan," Minerva said.

"Did something happen?" Est asked. "Ma'am, you know we serve you! Just give the order and-"

Minerva sighed. "Just- just let it go. You know why I can't attack them."

"Ma'am," Catria started. "I'm sorry…"

Minerva slammed her fist into her thigh. "I can't- I can't stand it!" she said to herself. But to her loyal soldiers, she said "Don't worry about me. Let's get this done."

Minerva entered the cockpit of the fighter jet. She nodded to her co-pilot and they began to taxi for takeoff.

[Gulch: 03:00]

"Navarre," Marth asked.

"Yes, sir?" The man responded.

"What do you know about Princess Minerva?"

Navarre shook his head. "Nothing, sir. I was a paratrooper, but I never interacted with her personally." Navarre paused. "This is all I know: if you see this formation, it's her and her personal guard. They're all excellent pilots." Navarre drew the formation on a notebook and ripped the page out to pass to the Prince.

"I see. Thank you."

"Are we expecting them?"

"We… had intel that we might encounter some higher level of Macedonian Air Force here."

Navarre grunted. "Choppers can't fly with jets around, sir. Especially the VTOLs."

"I understand. Thank you."

Navarre left the foxhole, beckoning for his spotter to come with him. Just then, an explosion broke out north of Marth's position.

"Incoming!"

Let's see if they expected this!

The air defense weapon system began calibrating its targets quite loudly. Four missiles were fired and all of them hit one of the jets hovering above. It deployed its flares, but it was no match for the tracking systems.

One more!

The second Jet strafed to avoid the traffic. It returned towards the base, but on its way, it deployed its flares.

That formation! Marth thought. That's-

"ALCON, this is ALTEA-6, lift fire!"

"Copy, ALTEA-6. What's the reason?"

"I think I know what they're trying to do."

The base stopped firing, but the sound of a hovering jet in the background was still present.

"We can't engage. That's the Whitewings, a Macedonian spec-ops group. They're the only people who use that formation and match this IR signal."

"Prince Marth, why can't we engage?"

"Their goal," he said. "Is simply to avoid combat. They would have been the first to hit us otherwise."

"Understood. So-"

"So, this is a trap. I believe the Whitewings are here as a prop. With luck, they should go away."

"...Very well Prince Marth. We will stay at a standby."

"Start firing at that other jet if it comes back to attack us."

The other jet came back to attack shortly after, and Wolf and Sedgar blew it out of the sky.

"TALYS-6. As soon as those Whitewings leave, go ahead and take flight."

"Got it."

"You're the lead for the entire plan here, Caeda. I'm counting on you."

Marth left his foxhole to get ready for the ground assault. As he approached his trailer, he thought he ought to thank the villagers for their generosity. As he approached the village, he was approached by a hooded man. He drew his pistol and pointed it at him. The man held up his arms and let the hood fall from his face.

"Son. I mean no harm. I am one of the villagers."

"Stay back! This is a war zone, and you just barged in!"

The man sighed.

"I need to know one thing, son. That's it. I'll depart after."

Marth kept his pistol drawn.

"Have you come across a young girl, one by the name of Tiki?"

Marth lowered his pistol. "Tiki?

The man approached the prince and grabbed him by his sides. "She must be found, son! Tiki is the last of the Naga, the divine-dragon clan. Without her powers, we cannot challenge the Manaketes who serve Medeus."

"Who's we?"

"We? We're- we're manaketes who serve Naga! As for me, I haven't the power. I am a fire dragon, yes… But in the name alone, in name alone. I lost my firestone in Pyrathi. Without it, I cannot do battle…You will be traveling much, yes? I wish to go with you. Perhaps together we can find Tiki."

Marth smiled. "Anyone who serves Naga is a friend of ours. We also may have something you're looking for in the back of the trailer."

[Lefcandith Fortress 07:00]

"Sir, that was a fantastic job. You're really getting better at this," Jagen remarked.

"Thanks, Jagen," Marth said. "I'm growing a lot thanks to our new allies. Still… we would have been pinned and forced to retreat if the Whitewings had attacked us. Why didn't they?"

Jagen put his hand on Marth's shoulder. "Perhaps there are greater things at hand."

"Greater things…" Marth mused.

"Sir, do you have a moment?" Malledus asked.

"I believe so. Jagen, do you know the plan from here on out?"

"Regroup while we march to Warren."

"Exactly," Marth said. "Now Malledus, what is it?"

"I was wondering if we might talk about the Manaketes."

"Manaketes? You mean the dragonkin?"

"Yes, sire. I was not sure how much knowledge you had of the Manaketes. The Manaketes inhabited our continent long before the dawn of humanity. However, ordinarily their draconic disposition stayed suppressed; their power sealed within special stones. Thus rather than terrorizing humankind, they chose to live simple, peaceful lives in the quieter reaches of the world. However, a century ago, something changed. Medeus, the Shadow Dragon, surfaced in the Dolhr region and created what would be a great empire there. His forces invaded the human realm, and in the blink of an eye, he had subjected all of the land."

Marth nodded slowly. What's the point of this? It can't be Bantu, can it?

"It was then, in that darkest hour, that a young man named Anri appeared, and rose against the Shadow Dragon. In his head was a shining blade of light- Falchion- which he plunged into Medeus- and the tyrant was no more. Anri went on to found Altea- and the rest, I believe, you know."

"Yes, Malledus… Is that what this was about? I do know my own kingdom's history. And I know what I must do, now that Medeus has revived and restored Dolhr to its former might." Marth's look was a mix of annoyance and confusion. "I know I am Anri's last male descendant, the only one who can wield Falchion. I must find the weapon that was taken, and put an end to Dolhr and its misguided rulers."

Marth smiled. "Never fear," Marth reassured him. "I will finish the task my father started. I shall avenge him and restore the light.