Caellach surveyed the ships that anchored at Taizel's port and smirked. It was the Frelian army, led by Prince Ephraim of Renais and Captain Syrene of Frelia's third battalion. Under his orders, Grado's soldiers were hidden from sight, and the citizens acted as though nothing unusual was happening. And that dolt Ephraim just waltzed in, right like that! Oh, did he have a surprise in store for the prince…
Now, was he supposed to be in Taizel? No. He wasn't even supposed to be in Grado. Vigarde's orders sent him to Jehanna, but he was, at least in his mind, a pragmatic individual. No need to waste the lives of precious soldiers when you could just make the enemy surrender on their own, right?
He was a pragmatic man, and so was Commander Carlyle of the Jehannan army. And so, they'd worked out a deal. Carlyle gets Queen Ismaire to surrender—and not butcher the Grado army like she was doing—and the queen walks away alive. After all, she had no heirs to the throne, and with no husband, there weren't any on the way (though a certain commander of hers would be happy to change that). If she died, the last branch of the Jehannan royal family went with her. Jehannan politics were messy like that.
If it weren't for all the amazing perks of royalty, like riches and food and luxury for as far as the eye could see, Caellach would've stayed far away from it. But he'd grown up in Jehanna's slums, in poverty. As a child, he fought tooth and nail for the tiniest scraps of meat, mixed with dust and dirt and grit and blood. By the time he was ten, he was fighting in the arena. It was only by winning favors with arena-goers who bet on the victor that he could get a roof to live under and decent meals to fill him up. One of the gamblers who bet for him during this time was Aias' father, a relatively wealthy mercenary, and it was through him that Caellach entered the mercenary life.
And it was through the mercenary life that Caellach got to see how good those damn nobles had it. Jehanna didn't have such clear-cut social strata due to the harshness of the environment; even their rulers had to prove their worth by defeating the heads of the top five mercenary guilds (or having an attendant that could take the challenge). But once Caellach left that dog-eat-dog world, he could see how pampered the nobility of other countries were. Not once did they experience true hardship. Never had they felt their blood or sweat trickle down their bodies as the deafening roar of the crowd, your livelihood, chanted for blood. All they needed to do was pluck the hard-earned fruits of their serfs right out of their fingertips, and all their needs were met.
The steak he was eating now, provided by one of the noblemen in Taizel to curry favor with him, was proof of it. Maybe the man thought he was blind, but Caellach saw the thin bones of the peasants who raised the cattle. He saw the condition of their shanties and their hollow eyes. These were the people who deserved to live a rich and full life, not the lowlife nobles who panicked the second anything went off their carefully-crafted plans.
Now, Caellach wasn't going to say that Vigarde was a horrible ruler. If he did, he was sure Selena would have him on a spit, Bolting-charred and Elfire-roasted. Honestly, considering his own dealings with the nobles, he'd say that Vigarde had a shitload of patience to be able to keep himself from executing them all. But real change had to come from someone with the balls to do it. Not from a person who was born into royalty. It was he, a man who came from that poverty and knew what it was like, who was fit to take the throne. Not some pansy little boy who could barely pick up a sword.
Speaking of, Prince Lyon had requested to accompany him to Jehanna Hall and oversee the Sacred Stone's destruction. Didn't he prove himself already by destroying Frelia's? Caellach growled in annoyance when he remembered.
"Caellach." Aias had snuck up next to him at some point. "Ephraim's men seem ready to disembark."
"Are they, now?" Caellach smirked. At least there was something to keep him entertained now. He was cleaning up Valter's mess—surprise, surprise—but at least he'd get to rub it in that greasy-haired man's face.
"Fill in the holes" my ass. Thanks to that fuck-up, General Duessel's on Ephraim's side. Well, if he gets to do whatever he wants, then so will I!
Not to mention that the "ghost ship" terrorizing Magvel's waters, no doubt the machinations of a certain shriveled raisin of a man, got sunk by the Frelian army. Whatever. Caellach didn't expect that guy to do anything useful any time soon.
"Send the order: Surround the ships, now!"
Soon, Grado troops flooded the area, taking their positions as civilians scrambled inside their houses. Caellach took his position at the city's gate, blocking their passage to the main road. If Ephraim managed to get through the troops (which he secretly was hoping for), at least the princeling wouldn't get through him.
But the resistance his soldiers was putting up was pathetic, even for his expectations. Ephraim's army tore through them, their victory over the ghost ship giving them a morale boost. It looked like he'd have to give them a little boost of their own.
"Soldiers of Grado!" He had a naturally loud voice, and his position on the hill made it so that people in a wide area could hear them. Even some of the Frelian soldiers at the other end of the city turned their head. "You call yourselves warriors? You're pathetic! Fort Rigwald? You lost it! Your General Duessel? A traitor! Where is the honor of the Grado Imperial Army?"
Caellach knew where it was. It was gone. It went with the traitorous General Duessel, with Selena who risked a demotion for her retreat from Bethroen, and with Glen who had Valter hot on his tail. It was definitely not with anyone left in Grado's army.
He continued. "It wallows in filth and mud. Is this the ending you envisioned? Is this how you would be remembered? Will you let the bards sing of how you fell to the renegade Ephraim? I think not! Now get up and fight! Kill them all! And bring me Ephraim's head!"
The soldiers fought a little fiercer now, whether out of pride or fear Caellach neither knew nor cared. He kept an eye on the strategies employed by the prince and the falcoknight commanding the enemy army, mentally noting what he should watch out for if they fought him.
Suddenly, he felt a malefic aura behind him. There weren't any shamans behind him, so he whirled around to confront the intruder.
"Heh heh heh…" Caellach instantly knew who it was, even as the man's figure was obscured by the light of his teleportation magic. When his figure materialized, the thin lips of the old ex-bishop twisted upwards. "Caellach. Interesting. What are you doing here? You were ordered to loose your dogs of war on Jehanna, were you not?"
Not even bothering to hide his contemptuous snarl, Caellach replied, "Keep silent, you decrepit sod. I told you, Jehanna's under control. My plan is in full effect. All we need do now is wait." In a slightly better mood at the thought of his guaranteed victory, he explained, "You see, Jehanna is an overripe fruit. It's being devoured by worms from within. We can pluck it anytime we wish."
"Heh heh heh…" Caellach did not like the chuckle coming out of Riev's mouth. "Oh, how your plans seem to have gone awry. Glen has betrayed us, and Eirika makes her way to Jehanna even now. Your perfect fruit has turned to rot while you did nothing. It's time. You will return to the capital with me."
"What?! Are you truly serious, you old goat?"
Riev only smiled in his disgusting way, and Caellach scoured his intel to figure out where his plan went wrong. Glen was supposed to go and stop them, not join them. He even went out of his way to inform Glen of a possible route she'd taken to make his life easier. Why did Glen—wait.
Remembering that a certain slimeball had decided to ditch his assignment for Glen's, Caellach changed the target of his fury. "…No, it's that shithead Valter… What's he playing at now?"
"There's no call for that sort of talk. That one has his uses after all," Riev brushed aside, though Caellach did not miss his selection of the word uses. "You can leave the defeat of Ephraim to your subordinates. Oh yes, and you can use the troops I brought with me as well. It will, no doubt, be an interesting battle. Heh heh heh…"
Caellach didn't see any troops whatsoever, but he knew better than to ask.
"Let's go now, Caellach. You wouldn't want to hurt a certain someone's feelings, would you?"
"Bah," he snarled. "What else can I do? Aias, you go ahead to Hamill Canyon and wait for me there. I'm going back to the capital."
Upon hearing that Caellach intended to return, Riev left the same way he came. As Caellach departed, he could've sworn he saw monsters taking his place…
Who the hell is that guy…?!
He knew he didn't want to know the answer to that.
Eirika's group planned to depart Caer Pelyn in the morning, but fate had deigned otherwise. A torrential downpour began even before dawn broke, and traversing the steep mountain path down to Jehanna was ill-advised.
Cormag was too drained, both physically and emotionally, to sit up in his tent even though he was awake. In fact, he didn't know how he got into the tent, and the blanket covering him was too thick and luxurious to be his. He wanted to take it off because it wasn't his, but it was so soft and comfortable that he also didn't want to. Justus and Matthias were awake as well, talking in low voices, and Cormag didn't want them to know he was awake. They'd probably drag him to see his brother, and he wasn't in the mood.
This whole time… Glen wanted me to be his excuse to remain loyal to Grado… I'm such an idiot, running off and doing whatever the hell I wanted… And now…
Cormag heard the tent flap open, and a feminine voice heaved a sigh. It sounded like Tana's—Princess Tana's—voice, but Cormag didn't bother checking.
"Whew! Getting a makeshift lean-to up for the pegasi takes way too much eff—oops!" She started talking at her normal (loud) volume, only to notice Cormag still laying there. "So sorry!" she whispered.
"Nah, he's awake," Matthias replied. Cormag wasn't sure why he thought he could trick them.
He growled, sitting up to indicate that Matthias was right. Faintly aware that his hair was messy from tossing and turning in his sleep, he roughly combed it with his fingers as Tana giggled.
"Not a morning person, I take it?"
"Long night," he hurriedly corrected. He was a morning person, alright; he was used to waking up at the crack of dawn to labor in his family's barren fields, and he woke up around the same time for training once he joined the army.
She giggled again. "Really? When I went to check up on Achaeus last night, you were just dead asleep on the ground! I went and got a blanket so you wouldn't get sick or anything."
Oh, that's where this blanket came from. Wait, if she got the blanket, then—
"Matthias and I carried you back to the tent," Justus grinned, seeing Cormag's bewildered expression.
"Ah."
"Oh!" Her expression suddenly lit up. "Wherever did my manners go? Well, I'm sure you know who I am by now, but I'm Tana, princess of Frelia. I thought I should know the men that have been assigned to… me."
It sounded like she was about to end her sentence with another phrase, but Cormag didn't push it. She continued, pointing at each of the men when she addressed them. "Let me see… You're… Sir Justus, right? And Sir Ma…Matthias?" Matthias gave her a thumbs-up, and she turned to Cormag, "And so you must be Sir Cormag!"
"That's me."
"Oh, by the way," her expression became a bit more solemn. "Sir Glen is awake right now, if you wish to see him. Eirika and Sir Seth paid him a visit earlier."
Matthias glanced first at Cormag, who didn't meet his gaze, and then at Justus. "We'll go see him. You coming, Cormag?"
The man slowly shook his head, and Matthias shrugged. There wasn't any point in forcing Cormag to come along if he'd just be moody the whole time. "We'll be back, princess."
"A-alright…" she looked between the two men who exited the tent and Cormag, who didn't budge. "Are…are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'll see him later." It was sort of a lie, but Cormag didn't want her to pry. "I just… don't want to think about it right now."
"Oh, okay." She stepped closer to him, and motioned to her blanket that still covered his lap. He'd pulled his legs closer to him when he sat up, and she stood next to an empty spot on the blanket. "Do you mind if I sit next to you?"
"Huh? Uh, no, it-it's fine." Cormag was glad Matthias and Justus already left, or else he'd never hear the end of it.
As she sat down next to him, she continued, "So, Sir Cormag—"
Hearing himself being addressed as 'Sir' when he'd betrayed his oaths made him uncomfortable, so he butted in with "Please, just call me Cormag. There's no need for honorifics with me."
"Cormag it is, then," she smiled. "You know, I'm not really experienced in fighting and all, so I thought that you could teach me some things and spar with me some time. As a princess, I didn't get to learn much about fighting or warfare. Syrene only taught me because I begged her."
"Heh. 'Princess.' That still sounds so odd to me. You know, I had no idea you were a princess at first. Besides," he flashed her a grin, "you definitely didn't fight like a rookie yesterday."
Giggling nervously, she answered, "That's not what my brother told me."
Cormag shook his head. "Really? He should've been singing you praises." When she laughed, he continued, "Seriously, I mean it. There aren't many people with enough guts to throw a corpse at an imperial general, then kick him right in the head. Especially not when that imperial general is Valter, of all people."
"Well, I was just really mad at him and Innes," she grinned sheepishly, then her expression quickly became somber. "But I'm sure you have a lot more reason to hate Valter."
Just imagining that man's face filled Cormag with rage, and he clenched his hand into a tight fist. Noticing his reaction, Tana hurriedly moved on. "I had another favor to ask of you, Cormag."
Forcing himself to tear his mind off revenge, he turned to look her in the eye. "What would you have me do, Princess?"
"I'm prone to attacks from archers when I'm on the battlefield…"
He nodded. "That makes two of us. It's a common problem for airborne soldiers."
"I thought perhaps we could keep watch for archers and warn one another," she suggested.
"Hm. Yes, you've got a good idea there. A 'buddy system' of sorts." She beamed at the praise, but her face fell when he continued, "But if you saw an ally in danger, you'd warn him regardless, wouldn't you?"
"Well, of course! But we're so high up that I was worried… If I saw an archer, I didn't think my voice would carry to you in time." She smiled again as she proposed her next idea. "Perhaps the neighing of a pegasus or the cries of a wyvern could carry far enough to warn the others."
"Oh! I see…" Cormag wondered if she was actually telling the truth when she claimed she had little battle experience. "Yes, we might not be able to hear each other in the heat of battle. But our steeds can be louder than either of us could. And trust me, my wyvern's shriek can pierce your ear from two leagues away. A brilliant idea, Your Highness."
"Really?" Tana was downright ecstatic at the praise, clapping her hands together lightly in her excitement. "Thank you."
Her reaction was so childishly genuine and expressive that Cormag couldn't help but smile with her. "Right, so if we see anything out there, we'll have our mounts call out, right?"
"Yes." Her expression softened, though he wasn't sure why. "And thank you, Cormag."
The pain hadn't bothered Glen too much while he was asleep, but the sound of rain hitting the roof had woken him up and, apparently, his pain as well. He wanted to sit up and look around, but his core—where Valter had run him through—was in agonizing pain. His arms had no strength and the pain that coursed through them suggested that he'd broken them at several points during his fall. Meanwhile, his knees… Glen was sure that he'd be in less agony if they had been cut off. Probably another spot where they'd been broken during the fall. He vaguely remembered trying to stand, which probably hadn't helped at all.
But he was alive. In terrible agony that made a part of him wish he wasn't, but alive nonetheless. He was gasping for breath and practically paralyzed from the pain, but he wasn't dead. That alone was more than he could ask for. The fact that he survived having his body completely pierced through and crashing into the ground from his wyvern was a miracle.
Turning his head to his left, he saw a blonde-haired cleric sitting along the wall, asleep with her staff gripped in hand. Through the pain-induced fog in his mind, he noticed that she matched the description of the traitor he'd ordered Saar to dispatch some months ago in Serafew… Glen hoped that she wasn't that same person, and just a Renaian cleric who followed Eirika on her journey.
To his right was just a small mat with a small ceramic filled with water. Seeing it reminded Glen of how absolutely parched he was, but the agonizing reality was that he couldn't even reach out to grab it, let alone sit up and drink it. There was also a window, from which he could see the rain beating down outside.
Glen willed himself to fall back asleep, but found that he could not. Worse, there wasn't anything else to focus on aside from his pain, which felt like it was steadily mounting. At some point, he must have gasped, because he heard a sudden flurry of motion to his left, and then the cleric hovered over him.
"Sir Glen," she said. "Let me get cold towels for you."
She scampered out of the room before he could call her back. Left alone again, Glen tried to shift his focus to the rain outside, but found the repetitiveness and the noise grating after a couple seconds. He wanted to close the shutters, but couldn't muster any strength to move. His efforts were rewarded with searing pain, and he grit his teeth to keep silent.
What felt like an eternity later, the cleric returned with several towels in hand. "Luckily, Grandmother was awake to give me ice with Fimbulvetr," she commented to nobody in particular. As she peeled back the blanket covering his body down to his waist, Glen became uncomfortably aware that he was only in his smallclothes. Of course, his wounds had to be exposed before they could be healed, but he still felt uncomfortable being this exposed in front of a complete stranger.
As if picking up on this particular source of discomfort, she told him, "Don't worry, I'm used to this sort of work. I've done it ever since I joined the clerical order." Even though she lay a towel on his left shoulder as gently as she possibly could, the contact sent another jolt of pain down his arm. "My apologizes, but it will cause a bit of discomfort until it begins soothing the pain."
It was several long, agonizing minutes before the effect finally began kicking in, and Glen could take a deeper breath than he'd been drawing. His ears could pick up the sounds of activity outside, muffled by the rain and the shutters that the cleric had closed at his request. To compensate for the lack of light in the room, she lit some of the candles strewn about, and Glen couldn't help but imagine himself as the hapless sacrifice for a forbidden ritual.
Even though the door was open, someone knocked on the doorframe before entering. To his vague disappointment, Glen saw Princess Eirika and Sir Seth enter, and he heard Seth tell the cleric to go and take a break. Even though she'd been helping him all this while, Glen felt relief wash over him as she left the room. He didn't want to be helped by someone whom he potentially ordered the execution of.
Eirika knelt by his bed. "General Glen. You're alive."
"I am…" he replied with a wry smile, not even trying to hide the pain the crept into his voice. "Somehow."
"Our healers fought with every ounce of their strength to keep you alive," she explained. "I'm very grateful for them. And to you, for saving Sir Seth's life. If it weren't for you, he would be dead now."
Seth remained standing, but he nodded. "I know from fighting him before that Valter is a formidable opponent. Words cannot express how grateful I am for your intervention."
"Well now… If only that could… make the pain go away faster…"
"If you can joke like that, I'm sure you can make it through this."
Glen smiled in spite of himself. "What about… the other…"
He didn't need to finish the sentence, as Eirika inferred the rest of it. "They're here. They have been assigned to follow Princess Tana."
At least they're safe…
While he was glad, he felt a pang of loneliness. They weren't at his side when he woke up. Had his decision shattered their faith in him that much?
"Do… Do you want me to call them?" Glen opened eyes he didn't realize he'd closed, and saw Eirika's concern etched on her face.
"…It's fine." He knew—and the tears biting at her eyes and her quivering lips indicated that she knew—that it was a lie. "If they want to see me, they'll come… If they don't, they won't."
Eirika stared at her lap for several seconds, allowing silence to hang in the air. Glen tried to focus on the cold relief on his aching body, distracting himself with thoughts about how Fimbulvetr ice lasted much longer than regular ice. The silence was broken when they heard an agitated voice call out "Achaeus! Stop, stop!"
Seth opened the shutter slightly to peer outside before closing it again. "Princess Tana is trying to build a shelter for the pegasi," he reported to Eirika.
"Oh, right, they hate rain, don't they?" Eirika turned her body to face Seth. "Should I get help for her?"
"It seems she has the shelter under control. Her pegasus, less so."
"What about the wyverns?"
"They'll be fine…" Glen answered. "They'll be grumpy… But they'll be fine."
She nodded, and silence fell between them again. Eirika looked to be lost in thought… with her gaze seemingly fixed on his chest. His bare chest. The cleric hadn't covered him up after placing the iced towels on him, for understandable reasons, but… Glen forced himself to stare at the wall opposite Eirika lest the situation became even more uncomfortable. He tried to focus on his breathing, though every time he took a breath, he wished he weren't.
Seth seemed to notice Glen's plight, and coughed slightly. "Princess Eirika…"
"O-oh!" Snapping out of her thoughts, Eirika quickly turned to face Seth, clearly flustered. "Wh-what is it, Seth?"
"We should call a meeting with Prince Innes and Saleh later today to determine our course of action. Hastening to Jehanna Hall is our top priority. We've no idea when Grado will strike…"
"Oh, but…" Eirika glanced at Glen. "He's still…"
"Go without me… I'll only slow you down." There was no way he'd be able to recover fast enough to join them. Besides, even if he could recover that quickly, he didn't know how Sieghart was doing. If Sieghart wasn't in flying condition, there was no point anyways. "General Caellach informed me of this place, so… I'm sure Grado's forces are already waiting for you when you leave the mountain path."
"General Caellach?" It seemed Eirika was unfamiliar with the name, and turned to Seth.
"He's one of the newly-appointed generals in the Grado Imperial Army," he explained. "Prince Innes' spies reported that he was a Jehannan mercenary who was promoted after his participation on the attack on Renais."
Glen's eyes widened slightly, surprised by how much Seth knew about the man. Though there was information that couldn't be hidden, Grado's own intelligence agency had tried to obscure as much information about their new generals as they could. Caellach wasn't a famous mercenary, either, and didn't work under any guild. Yet the rebel army knew his origins.
Now that I think about it, Prince Innes has a reputation for leading a massive spy network that spans all of Magvel. And I did mention Caellach's past to Duke Waeren when I went to Serafew… Is that how they know? I was angry about His Majesty's decisions, and didn't pay attention to who was around…
Bygones were bygones, but Glen felt a bit irritated that his own carelessness gave his former enemies precious intel, even if they were now his allies.
Eirika stood up to leave. "General Seth, may we pay you a visit later? For now, I have duties to attend to."
Glen smiled slightly. "Of course." As the two were about to walk out the door, he remembered something he had to ask. "…Please wait."
They turned around, and he continued. "The cleric from before… Who…?"
"Ah? Oh, that was Sister Natasha." Just as he'd feared, that cleric was indeed the traitor he gave permission to Saar to execute. "Why…?"
"I… don't want her to attend me." Glen knew it was a selfish request. He knew he was being cruel to her, but the thought of having someone who nearly died because of him now heal him pained him almost as much as his physical wounds did.
"Wh… Did she do something wrong? Shall I tell her—"
"No. She was good. I's just… I can't. I can't have her heal me."
Seth started, saying "That's—" before Eirika cut him off.
"Alright." Silencing Seth's protests, she continued, "I'll ask L'Arachel to heal you instead in the meantime. She's less experienced, so Natasha can treat our remaining troops in the meantime."
Though he clearly looked dissatisfied, Seth gave a curt nod. After bidding their farewells, they two departed again, though Glen knew they looked at him a little differently now.
Trying wave off his request as being for Natasha's sake more than anything, Glen managed to fall into a restless sleep before he was woken by the sound of Sieg's cry, then Matthias' "Whoa, whoa!"
Focusing on the source of the noise with eyes closed, Glen noticed that he no longer heard rain outside. His companion continued, "You can't fit in here, Sieg! C'mon, I know you wanna see him too, but you're too big for this door! Here, let's go around…"
Opening his eyes when he heard footsteps approach him, he saw Justus looming over him with a grin on face. "Catching up on all the beauty sleep you've been skipping, Glen?"
Glen growled in annoyance, earning him a chuckle. A knock on the window caught their attention, and Justus started for it. When he opened the shutters, Sieghart immediately stuck his face in, his eyes just barely able to peer into the room.
Justus laughed again. "Well, look who's here!"
Glen chuckled and stretched a hand out as if to pet his wyvern's snout, ignoring the pain to the best of his ability. Justus pet Sieghart in Glen's stead, and the wyvern made a low sound in its throat. Seeing that its master was alright, the wyvern withdrew after several seconds before nestling in front of the window.
"You gonna stick around out here, Sieg? …Alright, I'll be going in, then." After a moment, Matthias joined Justus, taking a seat next to Glen.
Glen smiled weakly. "You guys… came to see me…"
Matthias looked surprised before replying with an uneasy smile, "What, you thought we wouldn't?" When he earned no response, Matthias sighed. "Oh brother. You and Cormag being in the same exact mood at the same time is just too much."
"Mood?"
"You know, the one you always get in." Glen gave him a blank stare for a response, so he continued, "The one where you think that everything's your fault and try making sure everyone stays away from you."
"I am not in that mood," Glen tried to protest.
"Trust me, you sure are," Justus piped up. "Princess Eirika told us about what you said about Sister Natasha, you know."
He didn't, not until now, and Glen pouted in displeasure. "I didn't say anything about her."
"No, just that you don't want her around you for whatever reason." Seeing that Glen was becoming less responsive, Justus prodded him. "You can tell us. Get it off your chest."
Although the only response they got was Glen chewing on his lip, at least they could tell that he was considering it, and they waited. As they waited, Justus peered outside before turning back. "Sieg's asleep," he reported in a soft voice, and Matthias smiled.
"Natasha is…" Glen suddenly spoke, causing them to turn their gazes on him. "She's the traitor from Grado Keep. When I was in Serafew… I gave Saar permission to hunt her down and kill her…"
"So you are in that mood," Matthias commented. "But you didn't come up with the idea, right? You just gave permission for him to do so."
"Same thing."
Matthias shrugged, then suddenly reached out to feel Glen's forehead with the back of his hand.
"Wha—"
"Checking for a fever." Taking note of the full cup, he continued, "Have you drank any water? You'll be feeling even worse if you don't."
Glen shook his head slightly. "I won't keep it down… I don't think. And I can't sit up."
Justus eyed one of the towels wrapped around ice that lay on Glen's wounds. "Here, let's try this," he said as he took one off. Glen winced as the change in pressure made his knee throb again. He heard ice breaking, and Justus handed him a smaller piece of ice. "Suck on this. It should be better than trying to drink water."
As Glen put the ice in his mouth, Justus asked, "How long has this ice been on you? Do you know?" Glen shook his head, and Justus looked to Matthias. "We should probably take it off, then. Leaving it on too long isn't good."
Matthias nodded, and the two moved the iced towels off. Though he didn't say anything, Glen was glad they noticed. The coldness had started piercing his bones in an uncomfortable way, but he wasn't in much position to move them off himself. They sat in silence for a brief period, and Glen appreciated the fact that he had the piece of ice in his mouth to concentrate on. Sometimes the two of them annoyed him beyond belief, but in the end, they still looked out for him.
"Just so you know," Justus suddenly began, "we're to follow Princess Tana now. Figured I may as well fill you in on what's going on. Well, this Tana is a pegasus knight and she actually was the first person to help us out after you went down."
Matthias chuckled, though Glen wasn't sure at what. "Get this, Glen: She kicked Valter in the head!" When Glen whirled his head to stare wide-eyed, he gave another laugh. "Yeah, she actually jumped off her pegasus and kicked him! Well, that's actually what probably saved Cormag's life, so you have her to thank for that."
Glen couldn't keep his awe out of his voice. "Unbelievable…"
They laughed again, and talked more about how Valter was forced to retreat, about the people in their new army, about some of the gossip going around, about how Cormag had made some new friends.
Cormag.
Glen wanted to feel happy that his baby brother was getting along with people in this camp—in Grado, Cormag rarely drifted from his side after he moved Cormag into his division. But now, the name cast a heavy, wet blanket over his heart and mind.
"Glen! Do you have any idea what you're saying?!"
Those words were tinged in betrayal. When they left Grado, Glen knew that he was going to shatter Cormag's expectations of him, but knowing this didn't help him at all now. He knew Cormag would be furious with him, feeling utterly betrayed by the brother who'd raised him. Actually going through the motions now, though, crushed his spirit far more than any wound could hurt him.
He told Eirika that there was nothing left for him in Grado, as Cormag had accompanied him. But now, it didn't seem like there was anything left for him here.
Tears stung his eyes, and he reflexively covered his eyes with his arm. He heard his own sniffling, emerging in spite of himself, turn into ugly sobs even as he tried to suppress them. The hand rubbing his shoulder, trying to calm him down, provided no relief. He heard the door and the shutters close, and he stopped holding himself back.
Author's Notes: I didn't originally plan on publishing this here (only on AO3), but figured that some people might not frequent both sites. I had hoped to finish this before school started back up, but it seems that didn't happen. Hopefully this fic won't go the way of my other ongoing ones (read: update once a year).
Syrene replaces Seth as Ephraim's advisor for the invasion of Grado, since obviously he's over on Eirika's side for this story. Vanessa, Moulder, and Gilliam are also with Ephraim since they're members of the Frelian army. Amelia, Forde, and Kyle are on Ephraim's side as well. Aside from them (and Duessel, naturally), every other recruitable is on Eirika's side.