In the Temple of the Wind, there stood two large, majestic doors. They were so majestic, it required one to stop and marvel at them before passing through. Fuga was of no exception; he paused before the unopened doors, clasped his hands together, and breathed in the deepest he could. He took a step inside after bowing for an exceptionally long amount of time, making not a sound as he pried the grand doors ajar.
Into the inkiness of a dark room he prodded, balancing on the balls of his feet like a stalking panther. His square shoulders did not bob, nor did his head. One would dare to say he nearly floated across the floor with the starkest frown he could muster. Three tall seats commanded him to stop, and their command was a command a man like Fuga would never break, even if his life were in jeopardy. On a dime, his hovering body came to a pause as the soles of his feet slowly kissed the cold, smooth stone floor. His deep voice rumbled after his body bowed.
"You have summoned me?"
In the meantime, Corrin also bowed, but it wasn't because he stood before a council of elders. It was actually because the wind picked up, and the only way he could keep himself in place was to plant his feet in the searing hot sand and grip with his toes. Seemingly hours ago, while wandering through the same wasteland, Xander finally approached him with a pair of boots in his hands, clearing his throat in the meantime.
"Corrin? Don't you think it's time you put on some of these?" He clacked the boots together. "They're brand new."
The age old battle: Xander trying to get boots on Corrin. It didn't work when he was seven. It didn't work when he was nine. It didn't work when he was fifteen... No! Corrin hated shoes with a passion. He wasn't wearing them. Never. Even if it felt like grains of sand were about to melt into the bottom of his feet...
When speckles of sand began to pelt them, the rest of the army attempted to take shelter as well. The Generals, Effie and Benny, hid behind their tall body shields. They were the most fortunate since the rest of the army did not carry near as much equipment to protect themselves from the wind, especially the mages, who wore thin, revealing clothing. Nyx maintained a grimace the entire time, occasionally holding up her book bag in front of her face in attempt to mimic Effie and Benny. Unfortunately, the books were too heavy for her to hold up for long, so she had to dedicate intervals of time to resting her arms. Odin, who carried nothing but a grimoire, yelped time and time again when sand prickled the bare parts of his chest.
"Yipe! In addition to venomous snakes, taverns that sell alcohol, and insects with more than six legs... I, Odin Dark, have acquainted with yet another weakness: sandstorms."
His master, Leo, who rode at his side, sighed and allowed his brows to sink. He kept his eyes forward, maintaining a careful watch over his adopted brother trudging ahead of them.
"It's not a sandstorm yet, Odin."
"Mm, imagine how spicy it'd be if we did have ourselves one of those..." Niles began as Elise rode by. "Then we'd really be-"
"Niles," Leo interrupted sternly, mostly because his sister was within earshot. "Censor yourself..."
Niles only tsked.
"Of course, milord."
Further down the line, Peri screamed. For the umpteenth time in a row, a good bunch of sand blew into her eyes, and it warranted the nastiest screech yet. Hers was a noise so vile, in fact, it deterred all away from her except Laslow, who rushed up to the side of her steed and sighed.
"Again? What number is that?"
"Seven! Seven!" she exclaimed, livid. "That's seven times that damned sand's gotten in my eyes! It hurts, it hurts! Why can't I stab it? Dammit! I wanna stab something! I wanna stab! I wanna stab, stab, stab, stab!"
Frightened by his coworker's temper, Laslow ducked, for Peri began wildly swinging her sword. She wasn't aiming for at him specifically, she just aimed at anything that moved. To save a limb or two, he nervously crawled away from the horse, stopping only when she was out of eyeshot.
The only two to be unaffected by the weather were Keaton and Velouria, who traveled on all fours in the form of a beast. The thickness of their fur, and the hide beneath, withstood the assault as though it were a trifle. Like a goddess, the benevolent Velouria chose to bless one lucky individual: Siegbert, who rode atop her back, burying his face in her nappy fur. Without a care in the world, he clung to her for seemingly ages. Going off of his motionlessness, most suspected he had fallen into a deep sleep, one even the wind could not interrupt. A jealous Dwyer rode up to the beast's side, poked her bulky, muscular arm with the end of his staff, and coughed. Velouria looked at him, revealing her ferocious red eyes.
"What do you want?" she inquired. Dwyer had to kick his steed into a higher gear just to barely keep up with her long strides.
"I gave you my cookies, so does that make us friends?" he asked, clearly getting at something.
"I guess we are."
Dwyer's expression brightened slightly at her response, which momentarily remedied the dark bags hanging beneath his eyes.
"Great..."
"I know you want something from me, so stop dancing around it."
"Yeah..." He paused to yawn and stretch. "My face really hurts because it keeps getting hit by all this sand... And I'm really tired... Can I hitch a ride?"
"You already have a ride."
"But I wanna ride on you."
"No."
"Aw... Why not?"
"I don't like it when people ride on me. It makes me think you humans only see me as an animal."
An awkward silence settled between them, filled only by the howls of wind and clinking of distant armor. Dwyer's tired eyes sunk back into cold, dreary darkness before they began darting back and forth between the beast's face and the passenger she carried on her back. Oh Siegbert, he sure looked awful comfy back there...
"But you're carrying him," he argued defiantly.
"So? What's your point?"
"You just said you don't like it when people ride you."
"Siegbert's not a human. He's an honorary Wolfskin."
"How can I become an honorary Wolfskin?"
"You can't be one."
"But he can. What's so special about him?"
"He's just special."
With a grumble and a scowl, Dwyer gave up, continuing to yawn away. He kicked up a fit of coughing when too much sand jumped down his throat during a yawn, and he began spitting when he found his tongue was coated in a layer of a thousand grains.
At the front, Corrin paused at the sound of flapping wings. They were the wings of a wyvern, which differed greatly from the wings of a pegasus. If it were the wings of a wyvern he heard, he knew there was nothing to fear, for it was not a foe that approached him. He motioned for those who followed him to halt with a simple motion of his hand, and, like dominos, the message passed all the way to the rear of the line. Leo and his retainers rushed past the few standing in front of them to reach Corrin, upon whom the former looked down.
"Is all well?" the younger of the two asked. After angrily wiping his sand-filled eyes, he also shook his head. "Besides this minor annoyance, I mean."
"Looks like our scout's returning," Corrin responded, watching the shadow of a wyvern descend from the sky. The closer it grew, the more its details could be made out. Before Corrin, the beast landed, and its passenger, the normally silent Beruka, stared at him sternly. Like almost everyone else, she was covered in tiny golden beads, but that appeared to be the least of her worries. It was never like her, the girl known for her rock solid temperament, to be crabby over a "minor annoyance", as Leo put it. That didn't mean she didn't seem concerned, and when Beruka seemed concerned, Corrin knew it was best to listen. "What's the report?"
"It is difficult to see from the ground, but a dark cloud is descending south toward us. If it continues in its current direction, it will hit us very soon."
"Yeah? How big is it?"
"Big."
With a frown, Corrin turned back to his younger brother, who already glared at him. Leo knew that look in Corrin's ruby eyes. It was an expression unique to him and only him. It was an innocent, clueless look, similar to a puppy dog's, but it had a more human tone. After briefly wetting his cracking lips, Leo's eyes slid elsewhere. Odin began to fret over the incoming storm, and Niles rhythmically tapped his boot on the loose, sandy ground.
"A dark cloud in the middle of the desert... Sounds like a sandstorm to me," Leo stated.
"Have you been in one before?" Corrin asked next, to which Leo shook his head.
"My only knowledge is from books."
"What're they like?"
"Vicious, to put it lightly. If you're caught in a bad one, you can barely see fifteen cubits ahead of you. The air will get unfathomably thick, which will make just one breath a challenge. If we choose to continue as we are in those conditions, the army will undoubtably enter a state of disarray."
Distressed, Corrin turned back ahead of him. Beruka was right; he could not see the storm approaching at all. All he could see was a wall of orange and brown, but that was what it looked like all around him. Brown. Brown. Brown! All he could see was brown, and it made him feel closed in and uncomfortable.
"We need to get out of the way, then. I'm not sure if we'll make it, but at least we can try."
Leo nodded, but before he could respond, a distant voice caught the entire front's attention. Corrin heard the voice, but the sound of wind muffled it beyond recognition. He could not identify a second silhouette that flew down from the sky. However, one had a pair of eyes that were more perceptive than his: Azura, who finally departed from the crowd and trudged her way over to her leader. She gasped shortly afterward.
"Shigure's coming!" she exclaimed.
Corrin's heart burned.
"Oh no..."
"Milord, milord! I have urgent news!" exclaimed the boy riding his pegasus. The creature's hooves did not touch the sand, as it preferred to stay in flight. A sense of direness covered the boy's sweating face.
"What's wrong?" Corrin asked while approaching him.
"Without the woods to provide cover, we've been spotted by the Hoshidans! They're departing from the surrounding forests as we speak!"
Leo released a hiss.
"Dammit! And all this time I could've sworn they'd gone further west! What're they doing over here?" Though he had more to say, the determined eyes of his brother captured his own. They exchanged stares.
"I was beginning to believe this confounded desert was our enemy, but it might be trying to help us; think the Hoshidans'll follow us if we go into the sandstorm?" Corrin asked hastily.
Leo huffed.
"Hiding in a sandstorm is a ludicrous idea, but I don't know if we have any better options. Well, unless you think our troops are in the shape to take on a faction twice their size... Having a chance to avoid them is better than no chance at all."
"We need to spread the message immediately." Corrin nodded to Shigure, whose steed remained in flight. "I'm trusting you to make sure the rest of the army knows they need to brace themselves, both for the storm and the possibility of an enemy attack."
Shigure nodded back.
"Right away, milord." He took off, disappearing into the brown clouds of sand.
Further down the line, yet to be enlightened by Shigure's muffled news, Effie narrowed her eyes when the wind punched her harder than before. The soft hand of Elise spread across her armored shoulder, seeking support as she hopped off her patient steed. When her boots hit the sifting ground, she proceeded to stretch, spared from the sand when Effie held her shield in front of her.
"Aw, I wonder why we stopped..." Elise mewled after a squeak.
"I'd guess it's because the weather's getting worse," Effie replied in hopes of satisfying the girl's curiosity. "No one wants to travel in this mess."
"Nope, even worse," spoke a third voice. When the two turned around, they found Shura stumbling his way toward them. A good way to judge the power of the wind was by observing his cape, which fluttered rapidly. To their dismay, the fluttering only grew faster with time. With a hand over his eyes, the man continued. "Sandstorm's comin'. Hoshido too."
"What? The Hoshidans found us?" Effie echoed, tensing her grip on the shaft of her lance. "And there's a sandstorm?"
"Talk about a double whammy!"
"Yep. We're headin' into the storm to hide. It'll be rough, and there's no guarantee Hoshido won't follow us in anyway. Just stand still and keep an eye out for any enemy troops. Pass it on." Merely seconds after Shura finished, his cape stuck straight up and feasted on his face. He growled, threw his bow on the ground, anchored it down with a foot, and began wrestling with his clothing. "Dammit."
Effie pulled Elise into her cover after receiving the news, and she slowly began making her way further down the line.
"Something tells me this won't end well for us..." She began seeking other comrades to whom she could relay the news.
Elsewhere, Arthur tripped on the tail of Camilla's wyvern, and he fell flat on his face in the sand. After a gasp, the woman covered her mouth with a palm.
"Oh dear..." she started, preparing to dismount her wyvern. However, before she could, Selena passed her by, patting her thigh in the meantime.
"I got him, milady," she reassured while making her way to the hulking frame of muscle lying on the ground. Her foot found a home on his back, but she did not apply much weight on him, especially as she gently shook him around. "Come on, B, get up. It didn't hurt that much." One of her hands assisted him on his journey to his feet, and it granted him the balance he needed when the ground sifted beneath him. "What're you doing all the way down here? Aren't you supposed to be with Lady Elise?"
"Right you are, but I seem to have gotten separated from her in the midst of this nuisance. Also, have you seen my boy Percy by any chance? I need to make sure he's okay."
Selena nodded, which gave the man at her side peace of mind.
"I saw him hanging out with Owai- I mean- Odin's kid, so he should be okay. As long as Effie's with Lady Elise, there's nothing for you to be worried about except yourself. You in the loop?"
"What loop?"
"Guess not. Hoshidan troops've been spotted coming toward us, so we're taking cover in a sandstorm. Things're about to get pretty nasty." One of Selena's dual pigtails slapped her in the face, which encouraged a grimace. As she began to forcefully tuck her hair into the collar of her leather tunic, Arthur gasped.
"Gods! That means I need to find Lady Elise the fastest I can!" He proceeded to sprint off, but that was before Selena caught his thick arm and rooted her boots in the ground. Sand consumed her feet and worked its way up her shins by the time she stopped him completely.
"Not so fast. The last thing you need right now is getting yourself lost in this mess, especially with that rotten luck of yours... Lady Elise will be fine, so you need to stay here. I'm the one who cancels out all that bad luck, aren't I? I might come in handy right about now."
Arthur offered little resistance, which was why he relaxed sooner than Selena anticipated. After a huff, he tended to an itch behind his neck.
"That's certainly a fair point. I hate to leave my duties behind, but I suppose there'll be no tending to those duties at all if my misfortune got the best of me. Perhaps we can use this time to..." While Arthur spoke, a shadow appeared behind him. It started as a mere spec, but it drew closer, so it grew far bigger. Initially, when she caught eye of it, Selena thought it was a comrade, likely Shigure since he was most commonly found mounted on his flying steed.
But that shadow grew closer.
And closer...
And closer...
By the time it dawned upon her, it was already too late. Too late to warn Arthur, at least. Impulsively, Selena dropped onto the ground, where her body met a pile of sand. A pegasus swooped down, and the sharp end of the rider's naginata barely missed her. Unfortunately (or maybe expectedly), Arthur was not spared from any pain; the hooves of the passing steed kicked his back, which caused him to fall and land on his neighbor, who snarled.
"Attack! We're under attack!" she exclaimed once getting her face out from underneath Arthur's heavy chest. Panicked struggling followed when she realized her face was the most she could get free. "Get offa me, you lump!"
The word spread quickly, for clashing and clangs overpowered the howls of the newly arrived sandstorm. Velouria's ears perked the moment they picked up on such a familiar tune: the melody of war. She began ruffling her back, shaking Siegbert awake. His sleep must have been pleasant indeed, for he roused with a groggy moan, and he was only pulled back to reality when Velouria's deep, menacing growl sounded.
"Wake up! We have dinner to kill!"
"Huh? Wha...?" Before he could ask any questions, he was launched off his ride's back, and he flew into the sky. Thankfully, he did not land on anything that harmed him, for he was met with soft, forgiving sand. His loyal steed, Gudrun, trotted up to his side and released a soft bray. Siegbert had no choice but to retrieve his lance and sword from the holster on Gudrun's side and figure things out on the fly.
Not too far away from Siegbert, Keaton already began leaping into the air in hopes of capturing one of many pegasuses soaring over his head. Thanks for the thickness of the air, he could not catch them with absolute accuracy, but the swarm was so thick he always caught at least one. He made sure his enemies watched as his sharp teeth sank into the horse's torso, even if the rider was still mounted. Those who escaped Keaton's razor sharp teeth were destined to fall and land on the ground below, where they were still certain to meet death; many of Nohr's forces gathered around the vicinity of the Wolfskin's feet, and they would not let a single soldier flee.
The archers had a difficult time aiming thanks to the wind, which lessened their viewing distance and pushed their arrows askew. Originally, when they intended to shoot down many of the airborne Hoshidans, their arrows ended up going elsewhere. Some pelted the ground, but others, unfortunately, hit fellow comrades. One arrow lodged itself in the hip of Charlotte, who released a roar. When she turned to find what hit her, she spitefully whacked the next enemy she could find with the most force she could muster.
"Ooh, someone's gonna get it once this crap's over..."
After witnessing the problem, Jakob rolled his eyes, gave Charlotte a quick remedy from his staff, and began to seek the shooter. He happened to recognize the shoddy, recycled arrow that hit Charlotte. It belonged to Mozu. Mozu, the girl who hailed from a village that conserved whatever they got their hands on, was the only individual in the army that returned to the battlefield after conflicts. She'd wander for hours, yanking bloody arrows out of the bodies of fallen soldiers, enemy and ally. The rest of her day would be spent cleaning them.
He found Mozu a ways away from Charlotte, legs and arms quaking furiously. Thankfully, he was able to stop her just as she drew another dirty arrow from her quiver. He did not even have to call out to her to get her to stop; their eyes simply had to meet, as that was where Mozu found Jakob's nasty scowl. She stopped everything she was doing, including breathing.
"Cut that out!" Jakob snatched the bow's front and lowered its aim, which was once pointed to the sky. "Shooting that high isn't hitting enemies. You've already hit Charlotte, and there's no telling who else you hit before her!"
Mozu's eyes grew wide immediately, and she stumbled back.
"O-Oh, I'm mighty s-sorry about that... You don't think Miss Charlotte'll be mad at me... ya think?"
"I won't tell her it was you as long as you only shoot at point blank range for the rest of this battle. I already have my hands full as things are..." A Falcon Knight swooped down soon after he trailed off, aiming for both of them. With a squeak, Mozu impulsively loaded an arrow in her bow, aimed, and fired. Luckily, instead of hitting another comrade, the arrow lodged itself right in the beast's chest, and it plummeted to the ground. Jakob stopped the rider from escaping by simply tossing a dagger from his coattail. Slightly embarrassed, he turned back to Mozu with the clear of a throat. "Thank you. Carry on."
Midori shoved past both of them, lugging her heavy trunk of supplies. She seemed out of breath, but adrenaline made her thunder on, leaving a flustered Jakob in her wake.
"Pardon me! 'Scuse me! Medic coming through!" She tripped when her sandals were anchored too deep into the sand, but stumbling spared her from falling on her face like Arthur did. She skidded to a halt when she found the one who summoned her: Silas, who had been dismounted from his steed. Both were sprawled out on the ground, suffering from an unpleasant injury, and Silas worriedly fended off an oncoming Pegasus Knight with a lance. The air had become so thick the neighboring comrades could not see Silas' predicament. Therefore, none came to his rescue, save for Midori, who leapt over Silas' body and stabbed the enemy with a lance of her own. "Get outta here, bozo!" she exclaimed as the pegasus flew elsewhere.
Once she was sure the coast was clear, Midori wordlessly skidded onto her knees and threw her trunk onto the ground. Perhaps she threw it a bit too roughly, for it kicked sand into Silas' sweating face.
"Hello, hello. The doctor's in. What's bugging you?" she announced while gently wiping the man's face clean.
Silas closed his eyes and released a grunt.
"I don't know... Maybe it's the huge slash in my thigh?" he asked sarcastically.
Midori looked for the wound, and she found it with relative ease, for a pool of blood spilled from it and began to gather on the ground. She frowned at the sight, then threw open her chest and begin to dig.
"Ooh, ooh, that looks like a nasty one. I'll whip out a nice tonic that'll make the pain manageable until the healers get here."
"If the healers get here at all..." Silas grunted again. "Before I was hit, I passed by a whole bunch of people in pretty rough shape... This battle isn't looking too good for us. We're completely outnumbered."
"Don't be a quitter. Now that Midori's on the scene, everyone'll be feeling better in no time!" Midori responded after withdrawing a vial from the trunk. Thanks to the weather, she could not read the vial's label properly, so she had to hold it closer to her eyes. It was a good thing she did, for, shortly after getting a good look at it, her eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. "Whoops, wrong one. Here we go." She exchanged that vial for a new one, whose top she quickly pried off after giving it a good shake. "Open wide!"
Albeit reluctantly, Silas did part his lips for Midori, who poured the entire vial into his mouth. As he started to swallow, his face immediately soured, and he mewled.
"This taste...!"
"Sorry about that. It's a brand new recipe, so I haven't had any time to work on the flavor. Good thing is you'll start feeling a lot better any second now! Just uh... don't worry when your entire body starts to feel numb."
"Numb?" Silas groaned. "I really need to talk to Corrin about you..."
Not anytime soon; Corrin was too busy with his own matters to worry about his friend, or even the rest of his army. In the small range of his vision, he could make out four, no, five soldiers closing in on him, armed with long, menacing spears. Fighting against the entire gang was a fight he was bound to lose, at least if he chose to fight using only his Yato. Left with no other choice, he withdrew the Dragonstone he kept safe in his pouch, and he tapped into its radiant energy. A reptilian beast took the man's place, and its massiveness struck fear in the surrounding soldiers.
An effortless whip of the tail sent the men behind him flying elsewhere. With the sharp ends of his tall antlers, Corrin rammed those in front of him. One spear landed a hit on his metallic scales, but it was a useless endeavor, for the weapon simply bounced off of him. Corrin made sure to finish him off too while he had the chance.
Taking advantage of his new form, Corrin raced around the battlefield, assisting whatever troops he came across, especially if they seemed to be in trouble. Thankfully, those in groups of at least three seemed to fair well on their own, but several found themselves separated from the herd. If they were alone, they were most likely injured and unable to seek a partner to assist them, so Corrin took it upon himself to gently bite the back of their uniform and carry them to a place of sanctuary. When he grew tired, he found Azura at his side, encouraging him onward with her thundering song. Her soft, delicate fingers brushed against his unblemished scales as she passed, and the glow of her pendant allowed him to get a proper view of his surroundings. Above his head, he found a displeasing sight: more Falcon Knights, and their numbers teemed more than he anticipated. Around him, on the ground, snuck fiends of all sorts.
"Corrin!" Azura sounded at his side. When her song stopped, he immediately turned to her, worriedly looking her in the eye. Once, her eyes were fixed ahead of them, but now, she looked behind them, brow furrowing somberly. When Corrin also turned around, he understood why her optimism faded so quickly.
Thanks to the light of Azura's necklace, he could make out a shadow. A large shadow. A huge shadow. It made its way toward them hastily, and it showed no signs of stopping. After spending months as the commander of his army, Corrin had come to now that shape well: it was the shape of another army.
More Hoshidans.
"Gods, no..." Corrin sounded as his wings raised. "We're already in over our heads!"
Before he could charge at the crowd, prepared for a frenzied last stand, a figure stepped into the light. Something about him... There was something about him that made Corrin pause to stare in awe. Though the wind blew with enough fury to topple over the sturdiest General, the man who approached he and Azura stood perfectly straight. Not just straight, in fact, but sturdy. He seemed to glide across the sand, into which his feet did not sink. His sculpted arms remained still, crossed over his chest. His only weapon, a spiked club, did not depart from the holster on his back.
Corrin cautiously watched the man, who simply bowed before him. However, the enemy would not allow the two parties to meet in peace; a steed departed from the sky, prepared to drive a naginata through the visitor. An arrow departed from the shadow behind the mysterious man, and it struck the rider with a lethal blow. Not once did the man's eyes leave Corrin, even after a man landed on the ground at his side.
"Salutations," the man's voice boomed. The howling of the wind could not drown his tone as though he were a specter. "Legend has foretold of a man who changes his form to a mighty dragon, a mighty dragon of the sea. He has been chosen by the legendary blade, the divine Yato, and is destined to bring an end to the bitterest of war. Tell me, beast, are you one such man?"
After hesitating and exchanging multiple glances with Azura, Corrin chose to approach the man, steps cautious and head dipped low. Without his body to lean against, Azura resorted to holding herself up by resting on her Blessed Lance, whose shaft she buried into the ground.
"My name is Corrin, the adopted son of King Garon of Nohr. I've been chosen by the Yato," he confirmed, which caused the man's expression to soften. His wrinkles deepened as he displayed a slight, comforting smile.
"The pleasure is mine, then. I am Fuga, chieftain of the Wind Tribe, and I have come because the elders sensed the presence of he who shall end war. He who ends war is he I shall advocate. To you do I lend my power, stranger; my people are now your people. Command them as you see fit."
Nyx renewed a glowing fireball in her hand, which allowed the allies around her to better see their surroundings. She felt plenty safe in their presence, but the adrenaline that came with the anxiety of being hit at any second came in massive doses. Luckily, adrenaline brought a wealth of energy and concentration, which she employed to help her cast an offense spell while continuing to keep the light bright. She could not fire any powerful projectiles with precision, but a few fireballs and strings of lightening got the job done quite nicely. As it began to rain Falcon Knights, she turned around to meet a presence she felt approaching her from behind. Her intuition was not mistaken, as she indeed found herself being approached, but the approacher made her pause and raise a brow.
"You're a skilled sorcerer to be able to cast so many spells while keeping that fire going. I'm kinda impressed," spoke the visitor. He was a small boy, but the rest of the details were difficult to make out because of the sand swirling between them. It was thanks to her fireball that she could make out his silhouette in the first place.
"And you are?" she inquired with prejudice.
"I am Hayato of the Wind Tribe. My people have come to aid your army in your struggle."
Nyx rolled her eyes slightly.
"I can comfortably say we need all the assistance we can get in this skirmish, but I question how much help you'd be, child. Go back home. You don't belong here yet."
"Child?" Hayato echoed, suddenly furious. "Who're you calling a child?"
"My, my, you retain the temperament of a child as well. I don't believe presenting any further evidence for my case is necessary."
"By the gods! If Nohrians are even half as arrogant as you, I'd gladly return home! If the elders hadn't commanded me to assist you..." His threat trailed off as he prepared a scroll. "Hmph. We'll see if you'll still call me a child after you've seen what I'm capable of."
"Just watch your back."
"I know that. I've been in battles before. Probably more than you've been in." A circle of light appeared in the ground around his feet, and a furious bull burst out of his scroll. It charged into the sky, where it rammed into the side of an unsuspecting pegasus. It did not defeat the enemy, but it seemed awful close to death. The accomplishment was, apparently, something he thought would justify his smugness.
"Truly, now?" She hurled a fireball at a different Falcon Knight. Unlike Hayato, she took out her target with a single hit. While watching the steed plummet to the ground, the boy's face grew redder than the tomato Leo said he'd kill for.
Niles immediately readied an arrow in his bow the second he fixed eyes upon an unfamiliar uniform. It wasn't precisely the same as the Hoshidan's uniform, but the similarity was undeniable. When it came to protecting the life of his lord, Niles was never one to take chances. Odin, who also held a kindle in his hand, stalked up to his partner's side.
"In the dark, hostile winds of the desert, which really hurts my chest by the way, the shadow of an ominous, oncoming foe approaches Odin Dark," the man narrated. "Odin Dark may be great and powerful, but he still has his limits; unable to concentrate on a devastating spell that surely has the most devastating name, Odin Dark chooses to keep a light burning so his umbral friend, Niles, is able to make the perfect shot."
"Now isn't the time, Odin. Pretentious bastard..." Niles grumbled, keeping his aim on the approaching soldier.
"Odin Dark also chooses to ignore his partner's discouraging comment."
"Hold it, you two," Leo sounded suddenly, approaching his retainers. His eyes maintained a constant, judgmental gaze upon the stranger, to whom he eventually sighed. "That isn't a Hoshidan."
Both Niles and Odin turned to their lord, baffled by his words.
"What?" Odin sounded, speaking for Niles as well.
"I recognize the emblem on his uniform. He's of the Wind Tribe, which is known for its neutrality." He smirked slightly after seeing the man attack one of their enemies. "But I suppose they aren't so neutral now, though, are they?"
As though he'd found a ladder, Corrin found himself out of the trench of dread. Uplifted by the tides, which were turning, he prowled around the battlefield, Yato clutched tightly in his hand. His shoulders stiffened when he realized he reentered a state of being alone, but he was not entirely discouraged. As a dragon, he could easily fend for himself against many foes. Those for whom he worried the most were his troops.
The howls of war grew more distant with each step he took, which would mean he migrated away from the skirmish. He did not want that, so he turned and attempted to find his way back to the action, lured by the constant clanging of metal beating upon metal. A small orange dot captured his eye, and he was drawn to it, for he had seen Nyx and other sorcerers using their fire magic to aid others in combat. If there was an orange dot, a soldier was there, so he quickly made his way toward it.
However, what he thought was a friend was not really a friend; the light toward which he raced betrayed him, for it grew in size. It did not grow in size because it literally grew; it grew in size because it drew closer to him. By the time he came to such a horrible realization, it was already too late. With fury, the fire struck his left shoulder, and flames began to consume his armor. Panicked, Corrin threw himself into the sand and proceeded to roll around in it, extinguishing the fire quickly. Unfortunately, the sand could not extinguish the excruciating pain that came with the burn, and he could not find the strength to pull himself back onto his feet. He would not get up, even as a shadow slowly marched its way toward him. The best he could do was clench the hilt of his Yato even tighter than before. He stubbornly fought the tears that involuntarily built up in his eyes.
"Gods," he whispered. "If you can hear me... If I'm to die here, at least grant my army victory. That's the most I'll ever ask of you..."
"The gods of Nohr do not listen, for they are false gods. They are blasphemous idols. The goddess who reigns over the divine Hoshido is the one true ruler. Thus, when you pray, you pray to nothing. Nothing shall hear your plea, so nothing shall remedy your plea."
Corrin's head bolted up, and he found a tall, stout man standing over him. A bright red tengu mask sheltered his face from the hostile sand, and a curved naginata rested snugly in his grip. Dread and darkness washed over the man laying on the ground, and when he attempted to bring himself up, the enemy's foot stomped on the back of his head, forcing him back down.
"Who... are you?"
"I am Commander Isogai of the Hoshidan army, the land blessed by the goddess. She has gifted us with a bountiful victory. Are you not the commander of this faction?"
Trying to get his face out of the sand, Corrin nodded.
"One of them."
"Then you must be Corrin, son of our late Queen Mikoto. You are the traitor who cut his own mother down and sided with a nation of darkness and corruption. Your head is a head I least deserve to take, but I yearn to exact justice on you for your heinous actions."
"Go on. My life means little to me."
"Does it? Tell me, then, traitor: what do you hold valuable? Earthly goods such as gold? Treasures? You Nohrians are a greedy, vile race... But you are of Hoshidan blood, so perhaps you do not falter so easily at the feet of temporary things. Like a Hoshidan, you must be a man of honor, but your Nohrian upbringing corrupted you, so you give your honor to all the wrong things. Your King Garon? Your Generals? Your... army?" He felt Corrin tense beneath his feet, which made him smirk. "Yes, that must be it. Your soldiers... You care for them, don't you?"
"I do," Corrin concurred. When he attempted to move his arms, the man applied more pressure on his head. He wondered if the weight would crack his skull open. "They're like family to me, and I always have faith in my family. You're dealing with an army that's far stronger than you would ever expect."
"How precious," the commander responded. "I won't grant you even a painless, comforting death, then, traitor. With me, I bring news. It's sound, cheerful news for me, but you... you'll find it quite devastating. If your army is your family, perhaps I should call her your sister... We've caught her."
A fire, one hotter than the fire that struck him in the shoulder, consumed Corrin's chest, and his eyes darted up. The best he could, he peered into his enemy's face.
"Wh-Who're you talking about?" Corrin inquired, suddenly less peaceful.
"Your spy. The silly thing got herself caught in Fort Jinya, and she is being escorted to the capital as we speak. Our Lord Ryoma awaits her there, and he'll receive her with malice. No matter her integrity, no matter how ironclad her will, she will surrender all she knows to our Emperor. Soon, your army, your family, will dwindle at the hands of Hoshido's great army."
Corrin did not know how he lost his hearing so suddenly. All he knew was that he could not hear a thing, and it frightened him. Did it frighten him more than the news he received? No. At the sound of such dreaded news, he felt his hands quake. Anger, rage, fear, and anxiety churned in his belly. He wished to spew, but he could not. Instead, his muscles only relaxed, and his face concluded it could not break free from the ground.
"You're... You're lying."
"Believe what you must."
"No... This wasn't supposed..."
The faces of Niles and Laslow appeared in his mind. They tormented him with their furious, but somber, gaze. It was his fault. It was his fault from the moment he scouted around camp, searching for a certain braided girl that liked to hide. Because of him, the lives of two men's daughters were soon to be lost. It was all his fault.
How could he die carrying such a terrible guilt?
Antlers sprang from the man's head, slicing through Commander Isogai's foot. Suddenly shocked, the man fell onto his back, naginata fleeing from his hand. As he sat back up, he watched with dread as Corrin rose to his feet. His shoulder, blackened and bloody, was drenched in water that hailed from an unknown source. One of his arms, the one whose end did not clench his Yato, shifted into a long, sharp needle. His face morphed into a frightening, eyeless creature's, long, heavy branches sprouting from his crown. Water swirled in the air around his entire body, occasionally licking his swelling, veiny limbs. Awestruck, Isogai attempted to scramble away, but Corrin's arm, now a pole, stretched until it pierced his thigh. Isogai was forced to stop with a yelp, watching in horror as the hybrid approached him.
It was not Corrin that slew Isogai so mercilessly. It was the rage swirling inside him.
Rage drained him.
Only despair remained to give him comfort, but Corrin found no comfort in despair's company.
Slowly, but surely, his human form returned; his arm retracted itself, sprouting fingers again, and his antlers shed and landed on the sand. Alone, he gazed down at his handiwork: a bloody mess the sand gradually consumed. Quivering, the man then observed his clean, spotless hand. That hand covered his solemn face as he sank to the ground.
The sandstorm finished its course. Now that they could see again, the archers easily made short work of the horses swirling around in the sky. On the ground, the final kill went to Keaton, who howled victoriously while munching on a snack. While watching the grotesque creature with a slight amount of disgust, Xander scouted for his brother, clearing his throat as he approached them.
"Gods... It's a miracle we survived," spoke the man heavily. His brother, Leo, finished closing and brushing off Brynhildr before he turned to receive him. At his side, Niles used a staff to treat Odin of a minor, shallow wound.
"At last... Odin Dark, spawn of Tartarus... meets his unexpected demise after sacrificing himself for his lord and... friend..."
"Aw, will the widdle baby be awight?" Niles mocked while waving his staff again. "Want me to go fetch mommy?"
"Don't even mention my mother with that filthy tongue of yours!"
Leo sighed at their qualms and faced Xander.
"We have the reinforcements from the Wind Tribe to thank for that," he explained, nodding toward the uniform group to the east. Those of the Wind Tribe certainly knew their geography; they remained compact, orderly, and unseparated, whereas the Nohrian army was currently scattered all over the vicinity. Thankfully, the environment was so flat and bland it was easy to see anyone for a good ways away. Nobody was lost. "I shudder to think of how things would have turned out had they not offered their assistance."
"Hmph. Curious," Xander commented lowly. "It's out of character for an autonomous nation to interfere in a conflict like this."
"Well, I'm not going to complain about it. Right now, let's just focus on making sure everybody is accounted for."
"I agree. You're dismissed."
Leo rode off, followed by his retainers. Niles ran, but Odin limped.
"Hey! Lord Leo! My nocuous injury renders me unable to-"
"Come on, widdle baby, you can walk!"
In the meantime, Jakob rushed through the desert, passing by those calling for assistance. He did not pay them any mind, for he was on a mission: to find his Lord Corrin, who'd gone missing in the midst of all the ruckus. One soldier, Charlotte, was stretched out on the ground when he rushed past her. She obviously looked to be in plenty of pain.
"Oh Jakob..." She snapped her fingers at him to grab his attention, then motioned delicately to a deep cut in her exposed thigh. She made sure to exaggerate her puppy dog eyes when she pooched her plump lips. "Do me a solid, won't you?"
"Pardon me, but I've other matters that need tending."
Charlotte's facade dropped on a dime.
"Go to Hell."
"See you there."
Of every soldier that had strayed from where the majority of the Nohrian army regathered, Corrin was the furthest away. It was lucky that Jakob happened to consider going a little further than he wished, for he discovered his lord. His body, warped by the heatwaves that plagued the ground, was sprawled upon the ground, legs and arms stretched out. Beside him lay another body, but it housed far less life than his liege. Panicked, Jakob picked up on speed, and he raced tirelessly until he skidded at Corrin's side, where he threw himself upon his knees. He urgently lifted the man, shook him, and turned him onto his back. He gasped at the sight of the grotesque, clotting burn that consumed his shoulder.
"M-Milord? Milord! Are you well?" He realized it was stupid to think words would be of much help, so he waved his staff over his master's body, watching as the wound steadily began to close. Corrin's chest gently rose and fell, and it was the single sight that could possibly set Jakob at ease. As the muscles in his neck relaxed, Corrin's ruby eyes gently slid open. Jakob peered into them as he removed his gauntlets to brush away the sand sticking to the man's pale face.
"Jakob... How is everything?" he inquired, allowing himself to be groomed.
In response, Jakob smiled warmly.
"We've prevailed, milord. It was all thanks to the assistance of an allied army."
"The Wind Tribe..." Corrin attempted to rise, but he couldn't on his own. Thankfully, Jakob was there to provide as much support as he could. "I need to thank them immediately."
After being hauled out of the temple's grand room by two burly men, Jakob crossed his arms bitterly and huffed the biggest sigh he could muster. He made it particularly loud so his coworkers, Gunter, Felicia, and Flora, would notice. All three of them knew the sigh was bait, but Gunter bit anyway.
"You seem chipper," commented the elder sarcastically. Jakob's back straightened immediately.
"Of course I'm not. The confounded elders wanted a private audience with Lord Corrin. It irks me that I'm not permitted to be at his side, cursed rats."
Felicia quickly blinked and cleared her throat.
"W-Well... um... It's not exactly like they haven't done us any favors... I mean, we sorta owe them a lot after earlier today."
"So I should carelessly abandon my duties and let him be alone with strangers?"
"That's a good point too..."
"There's nothing we can do besides wait for Lord Corrin to return," Flora spoke up. "Not unless you want to ruin any chances of the Wind Tribe being friendly with us."
Albeit reluctantly, Jakob concurred, shaking his head in the meantime.
Outside of the temple, the rest of the army gathered closely, too afraid to branch off on their own and explore the rest of the village. The least uneasy was Mozu, but she still was not happy; tears built in her eyes, and the battle between she and those tears ended with her raising a white flag. She buried her somberness in her palms, but it made what she attempted to hide all the more obvious. The first tender person to notice her was Forrest, and he swiftly made his way over to her, the reins of his horse in hand.
"Oh dear, what's gotten you so worked up?" he inquired, to which Mozu turned away.
"It... It ain't nothing... I just... You know... This place reminds me of home's all..." She received gentle pats on the shoulder from her neighbor until she was reduced to sniffling.
"There, there... Crying's nothing to be ashamed of. How about I take you away from the crowd for a little bit? Do a little sightseeing?" He seemed to insist, for he softly took one of her wrists and began to tug her toward his serene, chocolate steed. Though skeptical at first, Mozu ultimately failed to reject his offer.
Seeing Forrest ride off with Mozu seemed to give the rest of the army the courage to spread out and do some investigating themselves. The locals, most hard at work, appeared to take an interest in their new company. Most of the farmers, all tilling away at their dirt, went out of their way to give the soldiers a friendly wave as they passed their rows.
As they ventured through a patch of sunflowers, Camilla giggled, watching Selena and Beruka hastily clear rocks and other obstacles from her path.
"You two are just too sweet to me," she observed while rubbing Selena's head like a dog's. Beruka scampered away when Camilla's other hand reached toward her, prepared to bestow the same treatment. "A relaxing walk is such a nice way to relieve all that after-battle tension."
"It was a coarse battle," Beruka commented simply, steadily returning to the side of her liege.
"Lucky we didn't lose anyone," Selena added while brushing another pebble aside with her boot. "But Peri sure did seem like she was in bad shape..."
Like Corrin, Jakob, Gunter, Felicia, and Flora, Peri was in the Wind Tribe's temple, but she was in neither the main hall nor the elder's assembly. No. She was in another room, hissing in spitting like a cat. Her wrists were bound and tied to a cold stone slab, as were her ankles, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not escape from her captors.
"Let go of me! Now! I'm gonna kill you all! I'll kill you! I'll stab and stab and stab and stab and stab until your corpse is just a mangled heap of meat! I'll do it! I'm gonna do it! Gah! I'm gonna-" Before she could continue with her rant, one of several women surrounding her smacked her forehead with a small switch. One woman, who could best be assumed to be the matron, spoke to her in a scolding tone. Unfortunately, the scolding tone was the most Peri could interpret of the woman's speech, as the woman's language was completely alien to her ears. Nonetheless, Peri remained furious. "Damn you! Damn you damn you damn you! Ooh, when I get out, I'm gonna rip your throat out and try to hear you talk to me that way again! Rah! I hate you so much! Rah! Rah! Rah!"
Just outside the infirmary, Laslow stood still, hands crossed behind his back. He hoped it would make him small if he crossed his arms behind his back. If he were small, he was less likely to be noticed. If he were less likely to be noticed, nobody would know that he stood outside the infirmary for a reason. Peri, his coworker, continued to spew vile, violent things just beyond that door. He could clearly hear what she said. They made him flush crimson. Very, very deep crimson.
His eyes awkwardly darted to Felicia when he spotted her drawing near to him. She'd departed from her trio of coworkers to come see him, but when she arrived, she looked at him... oddly. Very oddly. Laslow stared back. Peri continued to scream, so it wasn't completely silent between them. In Laslow's opinion, however, dead silence was far more desirable than listening to Peri's seemingly endless string of threats.
"I'll lay in your blood once it's spilt all over the floor! I'll roll around in it! I'll wash myself in your blood! I'll hack off your legs and arms so you can't get away while you watch me!"
Felicia blinked several times, baffled.
"So... What's it like to work with her?" she inquired before long. The question repelled Laslow's gaze.
"Well, it's... eh... interesting...?"
Speaking of interesting...
A villager was quite interested in Keaton, who was once shooting a breeze and minding his own business. When he noticed the man was approaching him, Keaton's pointy ears perked, and he gave the man all of his attention. Once he arrived, the man gazed in awe, and it wasn't long before his hands reached for those same ears. Keaton tried to fold them back, but the man captured them with his sausage fingers.
"Hey, knock it off," Keaton grumbled, surprisingly pacifistic. The man did not listen to him. Well, originally Keaton assumed he was not listening. It turned out that the man simply could not understand him, for when the man opened his mouth, he spewed a language Keaton did not understand. The most he could pick out in a string of sentences was the word "Wolfskin". The man continued to talk until his words slowed to a crawl. It was then he acknowledged their language barrier, but he was not willing to give up so easily. His hand dove into his back pocket, and it returned with a fist full of silver marks. He counted out five, then presented them to Keaton, who stared at the offer questioningly.
"Um... Okay... Thanks." He eventually took the money, but, not even a moment afterward, the man directed his eyes to a pile of lumber in the distance. Most of the time, Keaton's skull was empty enough to qualify as a second convoy, but, just once, he could put two and two together. "Oh, okay. You're hiring me to do some heavy lifting. Not too bad of a deal if it means I can buy me a juicy dinner with this." He turned around to call for his daughter. "Hey, Velouria! Come lend your pop a hand with this job he got!"
Velouria was not too far away from him, stretched across the back of Siegbert's chestnut steed. Her arms and legs dangled over the sides of the beast, who Siegbert carefully led to a stray bale of hay loitering beside a barn. The girl's ears remained droopy, and her eyelids seemed unbearably heavy. The way Gudrun swayed when he walked lulled her.
"But Daddy... I don't feel like it. I'm tired."
"Come on. We can get dinner afterward!"
"Daaaaddddy..."
Ears folding, Keaton turned back to his employer, hands on his hips.
"Sheesh. Teenagers, miright?"
All seemed somewhat optimistic for the army... All except Corrin. Well, Peri too, but she was already addressed.
Corrin finally departed from the elder's assembly, Fuga at his side. All three of his retainers rushed to greet him, asking him question after question. Jakob, while fondling the hilt of a dagger that hid beneath his coattail, conducted a brief tour of his masters body, searching tirelessly for blemishes. He found none, but he still did not trust his judgment completely.
"Milord, did they treat you well in there?" he asked forebodingly, to which Corrin nodded his head. He masked his somber expression with a fake grin.
"Of course they did, Jakob." He forced a chuckle and pat the man's shoulder. "You worry too much."
"Milord, milord, what did they tell you?" Felicia jumped in, eager to hear the news. The answer was one thing Corrin could be legitimately happy about, and Fuga realized such. He left the explaining to him.
"The Wind Tribe is welcoming us to their village like guests. We can stay here for as long as we need."
"That's wonderful, milord," Flora smiled. "It'll be a relief to finally get a good night's sleep."
Though Corrin spent the rest of his afternoon spreading the good news to fellow commanders, such as Leo or Xander, it was challenging to keep his head held high. It drooped far too often, and when he found someone coming toward him, he was forced to cultivate the energy needed to fake it. He could only let his true nature show when he was alone or when Jakob wasn't watching. He paused in the midst of the village, watching as the sun began to sink into the ground. It had been a long time since he saw something so beautiful.
A sunset... He never saw many of those. The mountains guarding the Northern Fortress hid the sunset as if they conspired against him. But now, with no mountains in sight, the sunset was all his to watch. His and his alone. In front of such a breathtaking sight, he found the silhouette of a towering creature, a Wolfskin, toiling in the dirt with the farmers. It easily plowed rows with its ginormous hands. Mozu was there too, on her knees as she gingerly dropped individual seeds in the holes she'd poked in the ground. She looked right at home. Benny was at her side, timidly asking her if the hole he made was deep enough. Charlotte was busy screaming at Odin because he accidentally knocked over the pail of water she just delivered, and Odin amateurishly attempted to calm her. His efforts were in vein, but he was rescued by Shura, who volunteered to take over water duty.
Corrin told Isogai the truth; his army was his family. Besides his adopted siblings, they were the most family he'd ever known. Growing up in an isolated fortress was lonely, and the gap in his heart was filled by the most unsuspecting individuals...
Isogai.
What he said...
Corrin's heart grew another hole. A tiny, Nina-or-Soleil shaped hole, and it hurt more than anything. All the regret washed over him like a tidal wave, and it violently threw him around. It cracked his neck, snapped his spine, and broke his arms and legs. The pain was insufferable, and hiding it was nearly impossible. His resolve was strong enough to get him to somewhere private, but he had to be quick. Thus, he turned and prepared to find some place to rest.
The only thing that could crumble what little was left of his resolve was exactly what he found when he turned around. On the bright side, who he found happened to be in a particularly awkward wardrobe, but that did little to deaden the impact of seeing him. It was Niles, almost nude save for the towel wrapped around his waist. Even his eyepatch was gone, revealing an eyelid that was sewn shut. His arms were crossed over his glowing, golden skin, and a sly smirk found a place on his lips.
"Well well, if it isn't Lord Corrin. How are you?"
"You snake," Jakob growled disapprovingly as he jumped between his liege and the man. "How dare you sneak up on Lord Corrin in such a manner?"
"Isn't it supposed to be your job to notice me?"
"Hmph. Don't turn this on me. Vile street scum like you doesn't deserve to even be in the presence of Lord Corrin, in such indecent apparel, no less! You're nothing but a disgrace."
"Jakob, Jakob..." Corrin pat his servant on the shoulder. "Why don't you go help out with whatever they're doing over there?" He motioned to the land the others helped cultivate, and that motion alone made Jakob's face sour, then mortified.
"B-But, milord... This-"
"Go on. Don't worry about me."
Before he was forced to depart, Jakob turned the nastiest glare he could muster to Niles, who smirked confidently back. He wiggled his fingers at him as he walked away, but Jakob only walked away; his eyes remained fixed on the two the entire time until he disappeared in the background. After turning back to Niles, Corrin heaved a sigh and dropped his shoulders.
"What can I do for you?" he inquired. Niles shrugged.
"I'm just checking on you, milord. Those pretty eyes of yours look exhausted. Do you plan on visiting the bathhouse? The tribe certainly has a nice one..."
"Actually, I was planning..." His eyes wandered away momentarily. "I was planning on skipping a bath today. I'm pretty worn out. Today was... frightening at best."
"Do I have permission to touch you, milord?" Niles asked spontaneously, which prompted a blush to spread across the other man's face.
"Um... Where?"
"Just your head, milord. No place inappropriate. I promise."
"W-Well... Alright..." He passively allowed the man to approach him, bury his boney fingers in his alabaster hair, and feel around. Niles feigned disgust and released a gasp.
"Oh, Lord Corrin, you can't go to bed with your hair full of sand. Say, I was planning on doing a little more relaxing in the bath... Care to join me?"
"That sounds inappropriate, Niles." Corrin didn't know why he was surprised to hear such an offer spew out of Niles. To hear it come out of a more refined individual like... say, Leo, was when concern was far more warranted. But Niles? Niles practically breathed innuendos.
"No it doesn't. The bath's public. I insist you join me."
It was strange for Corrin, who was legally regarded as royalty, to feel bossed around by a mere retainer. If he had more of a backbone, which was worn away by all the events that occurred that day, he would have put his foot down and rejected the idea the moment it came up. But now... He was submerged in water. Nice, warm water. Niles wasn't lying when he said the bath felt great on aching muscles, so at least he had that going for him.
Across from him, Niles stretched his arms across the brim of the pool, rolling his head around his shoulders slowly. Occasionally, he eyed Corrin, gave him a smirk, and then acted as though he never did a thing. Corrin began to feel uncomfortable very soon. Well, more uncomfortable than he usually was when he was around Niles.
"I thought you said this place was public," Corrin uttered after noticing they were alone in the house.
"It's not my fault no one else was in the mood for a bath," Niles defended. Corrin could not find a reason to argue with him. "What an awful burn you have on your shoulder, milord. It looks fresh. Is it alright? Does it hurt?" It was a mystery as to whether or not he was actually sincere. In response, Corrin glanced at the burn Niles referred to. A large patch of his skin looked sweltered there, and it was still discolored.
"It doesn't hurt much. Jakob did a good job healing it." He flicked it a few times to prove his word, and he did not even flinch. Afterward, he looked Niles in the eye, noticing that he stared back. Again, a trademark, devious smile cracked across the tan man's mouth, and he chuckled slightly.
"I've seen you looking at my bad eye every now and then. Does it make you uncomfortable? I can put the eyepatch back on if you so please. It just feels nice to take it off while I'm in the bath." His other eye certainly was a spectacle to behold, for it was hidden the majority of the time. The skin his eyepatch normally covered was ghastly pale, for it seldom received any sunlight. It looked as if someone took a paintbrush and blotted only that part of his face. Stitches sealed that eyelid shut, forbidding it from opening again. The thought of a needle getting that close to his face made Corrin squirm.
"It's not like it's anything you can control, I guess..."
"It's been gone for a long time. Don't even remember what it was like when it was there." He shifted slightly, making the water around him ripple. "Tell you what... If Hoshidans want to call us Nohrians scum, they can start with the bastard who took that eye from me. Only true scum can cut a helpless little kid's eye out. Know what the worst part was? That bastard was someone I trusted. He took me under his wing when I was barely Percy's age. He taught me how to survive in the streets, fed me when I was hungry, gave me a warm place to sleep on cold nights... But he didn't do it out of the kindness of his own heart. Turns out he was grooming me for his sadistic little fantasies. I remember, one night, I was woken up because I felt him crawling up next to me. He stroked my face with his rough hand. He toyed with my hair. He pinched my cheek. I thought he was being friendly at first, but then he started stripping me... and when I tried to get away, he pinned me down, yanked a knife out of the holster on his thigh..." Hesitantly, he ran his wet hand through his hair. An index finger made a slashing motion over his stitches. "Bastard laughed the entire time... and then he did worse when he was done. If he'd taken out my left eye too, he wouldn'tve been able to see the pain and fear in it. That's why he left it alone. He wanted to watch me suffer and cry.
As expected, silence followed. In attempt to hide himself, Corrin sank deeper in the water, awkwardly looking around.
"Um... I'm... sorry to hear that..."
"And then, when I finally found a band I thought I could trust, I was abandoned on a heist. I thought they were my family, but I was left alone to fend for myself when security hounded us down. A damned, disposable decoy was all I was to them... They didn't care about what happened to me." More ripples in the water. "Know, it's hard for me to find someone I trust."
"Do you trust anyone?"
"Of course I do. I trust my Lord Leo above all things. My wife too. I trust Odin with my life, but I don't trust him completely... I attempted to do a little digging around in his past, but I wound up empty-handed, so he's a slight bit of an enigma... but a trustworthy enigma nonetheless."
Corrin smiled warmly.
"I'm truly glad. There's no better feeling than knowing someone will be there for you if you're in trouble."
"I trust you too, Lord Corrin," Niles said suddenly. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have told you any of that. I've always felt like you saw me as more than a nasty little street rat. You saw me as a human while you put up with my harassment. I feel like you deserve to know that... And I hope... that you'll never betray the trust I have in you. I hope you'll never hide anything from me... at least anything that concerns me. In return, I'll be glad to do the same."
Corrin's heart caught fire. The fire was hot. Too hot. Hotter than the fire Isogai sent to his shoulder. It burned him. He wanted to get away from it, to put it out, but no water could possibly offer any sanctuary.
Well... There was one sanctuary.
Would he go toward it?
"Niles... There's... There's something I need to tell you."
Niles raised a brow.
"Oh? A juicy little secret just for me?" he purred.
"Um..." Corrin licked his lips nervously. "Yeah."
"My ears lust to hear, milord."
"I... Today... during the battle, I..." He froze, then slowly peered up. He looked the man in the eye. His hands began to quake. His chest tightened. His heart pounded. Was he going to do it? Was he going to say it? Would he forgive him? Would he be angry? He was to blame. It was all his fault. It was his idea. It was all his fault! "I saw you protecting my brother today... and I thought you were admirable out there. I don't think Leo could possibly be in better hands."
In a moment, Niles' tension melted away, and he grew a slick smile. After a chuckle, he purred again.
"What, that's all? Here I was thinking you had something more serious to tell me..."
Corrin's laugh was fake.