This is coming together much better than I had hoped so far, really. I expected more criticism regarding my use of the Greil Mercenaries so early into the fic, but I'm no displeased to find that to not be the case, of course.

And I feel I need to explain the whole IkexMicaiah, SothexMicaiah thing. Yes, I am adamantly against the latter. But really, its not like you'll be deprived of it. I'd have to be a pretty bad writer (or a really good one depending on your perspective) to manage to write Part One without including any SothexMicaiah. Its just kinda... there, and I'd be leaving a lot out if I tried to dodge it. So people who want their SothexMicaiah fix will get it, sure, but it isn't staying that way.

Also, to Moogle Studios, I don't know where you're coming from when commenting on me killing tons of people off. Character favoritism is great and all, but for the most part you won't have to worry; I can't say whether or not Edward and Nolan will live to get to go stabby-stabby with Goddess fanatics, but I won't be killing off many people. A story loses a lot of appeal if it kills off too many people, I think, but the odd casualty is realistic. Hopefully people won't freak out when a character they like does die, but I suspect I'm asking for too much.

I really hate coming back here halfway through a chapter to add more in response to newer reviews, but I always end up doing it. So to solve the confusion issue Blue Mage Quarter presented, I'll have a brief summary before everything else this chapter. When you review, please let me know whether or not you want it to stay in future chapters; I don't mind doing it, but it will just be troublesome to all of you if the majority of you don't want it.

That is all I need to say for this chapter, so we can get going quickly.

Faced with the threat of extinction, both the Dawn Brigade and the Greil Mercenaries are to put to flight. The Dawn Brigade fought valiantly to escape the grasp of the Begnion Occupation Army while the Greil Mercenaries fled across the Crimean countryside, forced into flight for their armed acts against Duke Felirae. The Dawn Brigade manages to escape their home, left without a home of their own in their flight. Meanwhile the Greil Mercenaries take up refuge in Fort Derta where they are challenged by the Royal Knights, revealing the grim truth that matters pertaining to the Greil Mercenaries are entirely in the hands of Duke Felirae.

The flames of war were spreading.

The existence of the Dawn Brigade continued to spread conflict and strife across Daein, with no intention of slowing down. Word spread like wildfire that the Dawn Brigade was on the move, and the news that they had escaped Begnion's grasp alone raises spirits. Revolts begin to break out once again, and efforts to pursue the Dawn Brigade are inevitably postponed to address these new issues.

Meanwhile, Crimea faces a similar dilemma. The Greil Mercenaries' armed refusal to return to court and their subsequent march toward Daein turned their country into a battleground. Despite her wises, Queen Elinicia is forced to dispatch units to all major roads in the country to put a stop to their flight. When all else fails, it is the Royal Knights who are dispatched to bring an end to the small group of mercenaries.

Both countries found their fates slowly being wound together as two people – Crimea's Hero and the Silver-Haired Maiden – set the gears of change in motion

"Commander Geoffrey, Second Commander Kieran and Captain Makar are ready and awaiting your orders." Geoffrey looked toward the sky, heaving a heavy sigh. Today was a dark day indeed for Crimea, being forced to hunt the mercenaries that they owed their nation to. What was there to gain from this battle? Geoffrey often found himself wondering that. And what had the Greil Mercenaries done, exactly? Somehow, Duke Felirae's claims that the Greil Mercenaries had assassinated one of his messengers on a whim was rather dubious.

Sir Ike was far too honorable a man to do that, Geoffrey rationalized.

"Send in the first wave. They are far fewer than us, but Sir Ike has proved to make the most of hopeless situations. Discretion is to be foremost on everyone's mind." The messengers on either side of him rushed off to relay the orders, leaving Geoffrey alone to his musings once more. He'd be put in the same boat as Sir Ike is he disobeyed, but really... was it any better to make an enemy out of someone who, the more Geoffrey thought about it, seemed like he was being framed?

'It can't be helped. I just follow orders,' he tried to reason with himself, in vain. As the first wave – one hundred in all – charged toward Fort Derta, he couldn't help but pray that Sir Ike and the other mercenaries would be okay. He knew he shouldn't, he knew that the position he was in demanded his complete acceptance, but he simply couldn't. Especially not when his Queen suffered from the same misgivings.

At the fort, Gatrie and Boyd set up a wall of defense at the gates with Rhys and Soren behind them for support, mowing down anyone who came within striking distance of their lance or axe. Rolf and Shinon fired at the steeds from the walls, and Titania and Oscar remained inside, prepared to act as a second line of defense in case the first one began to falter. Mia, Ike and Mist remained nearby, prepared to assist whenever necessary.

There wasn't much else they could do in such a defensive position.

Not that they were needed. Gatrie and Boyd did the defending job quite nicely, struggling only when the foe in question was armed with a boy, and then Soren was ready to lend a hand almost immediately. Whenever one of them – usually Boyd – took any real damage Rhys was right there healing, and after ten minutes the first wave of the Royal Knights had been reduced to a minor annoyance.

Geoffrey noticed this immediately, but his calm exterior didn't show any of his actual worry. He turned to the nearest soldier, saying, "Send in the second wave to join the conflict. Send in Sir Makalov and Lady Astrid's squads to try and find an alternate entrance. I'm sure there's another." Again the soldier nodded and rode off, and soon there was another long line of knights charging toward the fort while two other, much smaller squads moved in on either side of the fort, unnoticed for the most part by the Greil Mercenaries.

Which was a good thing, given the fact that even the fresh reinforcements could do little in the face of the stellar defenses posted at the front gate. Eventually Boyd armed himself with a hand axe and took post behind Gatrie, directing all the attacks to Gatrie's nearly impregnable armor while he picked off the steeds on which the knights rode with his axe. That, coupled with the thrusts of Gatrie's lance and the arrows raining down from the walls all amounted to a very successful defensive position that the Royal Knights simply couldn't breach.

But like any great walls, they slowly dwindled in strength as they get hit harder and harder, and it wasn't long before Ike had Boyd rushing back to rest while he took his friend's place. Ike immediately fell under attack by two lance wielding knights and one brandishing a sword, all of which fell swiftly to powerful swings of his large sword. Three more immediately took their place over and over, and even Ike's strength found itself tested against the sheer numbers they faced.

Things weren't looking well for the Greil Mercenaries.

Micaiah sighed as she looked up at the slowly rising sun. It had been but a single day since their departure from Nevassa, and already tension was high among the Dawn Brigade's members; already Edward had been at Nolan's throat on a number of occasions for reasons that were steadily losing any sense of logic, and Leonardo and Sothe had resigned themselves to a stoic silence to avoid the same ill fate. The only one who seemed to be in good spirits was Micaiah, who was still clinging firmly to the belief that 'the goddess was watching over them' as she had said several times.

Only Sothe bothered to listen to her when she said that anymore.

"I'm not a kid! I have every right to fight just like everyone else!" And unfortunately, the deteriorating logic had declined to mindless arguments much like the one they were currently in. Micaiah sat down next to a tree and allowed her eyes to drift close, hoping only to wait out the storm of their latest argument.

"Are you okay?" Of course, Sothe just happened to be far too protective to allow that.

"I'm fine," Micaiah swatted at hair that had fallen into her face, and groaned when her efforts failed to make any difference. "Just... get them to stop."

"Thats easier said than done."

Micaiah sighed dejectedly, "Nolan, where are we now?"

Nolan's argument with Edward was brought to an immediate halt as he did an about face, pulling out a map an staring holes through it for several seconds, "We're about a half-mark from Kisca, if you're wanting to stock up. But going there would mean..."

"... Going right into the hands of Begnion," Sothe concluded, extending a hand to pull Micaiah to her feet. "Its not good, but we'd best steer clear of towns for the time being. The last thing we want to do is help them follow us."

Edward's pent up anger got the better of him as closed the distance between Nolan and himself, glaring up at the senior, "Don't tell me that means another night on the cold ground! I'm sick of having nothing but bugs to warm us!"

Micaiah, notorious as the one to retain hope when everyone else had cast it aside, turned to Edward with a broad smile, unburdened by the many things that weighed down on their small group, "Come on, its not that bad! The forest is so calm, serene... isn't that right, Yune? The sound of the animals, the natural feeling, the..."

Edward chose to leave her alone in her dreamy daze, turning back to Nolan, "We should at least see if

we can find some means of indoor shelter! It shouldn't be that hard to --"

"-- O-oh, excuse me!" And a case of 'speak of the devil' struck as a small girl, probably no older than sixteen, rushed toward them from between a small cluster of trees, her short black hair disheveled and her white robes a dirty mess. "A-are you guys heading to town, by any chance...?"

Nolan took it upon himself to evaluate the girl, asking, "Why do you ask?"

The girl grimaced under his harsh tone, "Our abbot is ill, but we can't do anything about it because Begnion is hoarding all our provisions in the manor. Please, help!"

The girl's plight immediately got Micaiah's attention. She turned to the girl, wide eyed and smiling, saying, "We'd be glad to help! We're the Dawn Brigade, at your service! And who are you?"

"I-I'm Laura."

"Well, Laura, I'm Micaiah. And these people are Sothe, Nolan, Edward and Leonardo. Please, lead the way."

By noon the group had reached the outskirts of Kisca, a small city fortified by an unnaturally large amount of guards, surely because of the Dawn Brigade's reputation, Micaiah thought. Making their way to the manor took no small amount of effort – not that the Dawn Brigade wasn't already acquainted with the art of stealthily making their way through alleyways – but they managed to do so without being spotted. They gathered in the foyer that Micaiah had assured them would be clear. Sometimes, her erratic future sight was a boon indeed.

"Sothe, do you know what the layout of the manor is like?"

Sothe nodded immediately, "I do. I was here two years ago, but my memory is fresh." He tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully for a moment before nodding again, pleased with his memory's work, "As I recall, there is a large armory deep inside the building. And unless its changed since, Begnion soldiers keep stolen goods – from the necessities to rare objects – in that armory."

"So the medicine will be there as well," Micaiah concluded. "That settles it then. We're heading toward the armory."

Laura stepped forward timidly, visibly shaking, "Are you sure? I mean, this is a lot of trouble and..."

Micaiah gave off a dismissive wave, "We don't mind at all, Laura. Danger is part of what we do, after all. Just leave it to us, okay?"

Sothe finished the statement, saying, "Your abbot will have his medicine, don't worry."

Laura smiled brightly, "Thank you, thank you! At least allow me to aid you, though. I can use a stave, at least."

Sothe nodded eagerly, "That is more than reasonable." Micaiah nodded as well, smiling. That business set aside, Sothe's serious side returned full force, and his face was clouded over in the same distant indifference he often wore, "I'll find a back entrance and unlock the door to the armory, and then I'll ambush them up ahead. Is that okay, Micaiah?"

"Of course."

As Sothe disappeared outside again, the remainder of the Dawn Brigade began the arduous task of navigating the large manor. They left the foyer into a small corridor – one which, Micaiah had to note, was unexpectedly devoid of any of the usual abundance of decoration that was commonplace in Begnion. The ground was an unpolished stone and the walls were hardly any better of, more often than not having small cracks or holes in them.

The only advantage to the rugged design was the near impossibility of concealing movements, which was certainly a blessing when they heard the loud footsteps of someone approaching from the far side of the room opposite their place in the hallway. Nolan took the front with his axe ready, Leonardo right behind him and Laura nearby, both of them prepared to carry out their respective duties.

The dim light began to center on the soldier now at the end of the hallway who's eyes were wide as he said, "I-intude --" before he was cut off by having his chest dug into by Nolan's axe, and an arrow lodging itself securely in his armpit. He was dead before so much as a strangled gasp could leave his body.

"If the patrols are as thick here as they were in the city, then they already know we're here now," Nolan remarked as they climbed over the corpse and into the small room beyond it. At the far end was a set of stairs that led to the second floor of the manor, and save for the low quality carpet covering the ground the room was completely empty. And was that mold Nolan saw on the ceiling? Clearly the manor wasn't home to anyone of frightening importance.

"Intruders! Get them!"

"... As I said." Edward took his place beside Nolan as a group of soldiers converged with them, resulting in a fierce melee. Edward ducked as Nolan launched his hand axe at a soldier followed by digging his much larger axe into the chest of another soldier. Edward covered him by rushing at an axe wielding soldier, ducking under his slow swing before thrusting his sword through the man's throat. He spun around and stepped to the side as a lance was thrust in his direction, and a strangled cry of pain followed as the familiar tendrils of light tore through the offending soldier from all sides. Edward gasped to regain his breath as the group gathered in the center of the room, now accompanied by the thick scent of blood.

"Anyone wounded?" Nolan looked about the group and, satisfied that nobody had taken any wounds, smiled, "Good! Shall we go?"

"Wait." Micaiah walked to the base of the stairs, inspecting them for a long moment before frowning, "There's an ambush waiting for us up there."

"How many did you see?" Nolan asked, frowning.

"Five of them. They hide in the shadows. Even knowing they are there, we'd be dead before we could move."

Nolan nodded, beckoning Leonardo over with a wave of his hand, "Fire toward the top of the stairs, then run. If they know we know they're there, they will charge blindly to kill us."

As soon as Leonardo had fired, that is exactly what happened. The small group abandoned their ambush locales and charged down the stairs to their waiting enemies, falling into the snare Nolan had set. All five fell under axe, sword, bow or tendrils of light before they could so much as raise their weapons in defense. The Dawn Brigade took the momentum to the second floor, wiping out any stagnant troops waiting for them.

Micaiah suddenly came to a stop as the group began to assemble in the hallway they'd just entered. Her eyes went wide a moment later, and she shouted over to Nolan, "Get back!" Unfortunately he didn't move quite fast enough, and an arrow found itself lodged in his calf. He groaned irritably as he limped his way over to and behind a large support beam, finally dropping to one knee to check the extent of the damage. Micaiah and Laura took a knee on either side of him, both waiting in case they were needed.

Nolan said nothing as he inspected the wound, ultimately taking a tough guy approach to removing the arrow from its resting place. He wasn't able to suppress the cry of pain the followed and he had to grit his teeth as he tried to get feeling back into his leg. Laura immediately had her staff hovering over the wound and healing it, leaving the pain no more than an irritating throbing sensation Nolan felt as he stood and pressed down on his right leg.

"Can you fight?" Edward asked at last, breaking the heavy silence.

Micaiah interjected, "Not with that kind of wound he can't. Nolan will stay back with Leonardo and watch our backs. I'll worry about what's coming this way."

Nolan's eyes dropped to the ground as he sighed, "Micaiah, please. You can't --"

"-- I have to. I can't let everyone else fight these battles for me, Nolan. I'm the leader of this group, and it will do none of us any good if I become a figurehead that's needed only for her powers." Not leaving any room for debate, Micaiah climbed to her feet and turned to face down the hallway, "Edward, stick to me. Leonardo, support Nolan and make sure the archers on the third floor can't reach us. We need to stay in their blind spots."

Leonardo nodded as he draped an arm over Nolan's shoulders, "Then we should hug this side of the hallway."

As they went on their way hugging the wall, several stops were made to investigate the various rooms lining the hallway's left side. Rooms ranged from simple bedrooms with living conditions comparable only to a holding cell to rooms resembling actual holding cells, complete with the musky scent of liquor and various other incorrigible smells, along with the mold growing not only in the corners but also along much of the walls. The only thing remotely liveable about such rooms was the small cot in the corner of the room.

"These rooms..." Micaiah started, at a rare loss for words.

"These must be holding rooms for prisoners they deem to need further punishment than normal imprisonment," Nolan offered, stunned.

"Like us," Leonardo added.

Micaiah nodded and closed the door to the room she'd been investigating, taking a few steps onward and checking the next room. Edward leaned against the railing that overlooked the first floor, eyes shifting from the floor below to Micaiah and then back again, "I didn't think oppression would be so strong in a small place like this. Its just --"

"-- Kya!" Micaiah cried out as she jumped to the side, a sword coming down on the place where she'd just been standing. She scrambled to dodge as the swordsman swung at her again, the second slash narrowly grazing her arm. Edward charged in and blocked the third swing with his sword, gritting his teeth when the swordsman dug his heels in and prevented Edward from gaining any ground over him. Micaiah coughed as she fought to regain her breath, managing a small smile Edward's way as she said, "T-t-thank you, Edward."

Edward nodded his acknowledgment as he too dug his heels into the ground, preparing for what was shaping up to be a long deadlock. Their deadlock met a swift end as Leonardo released Nolan long enough to fire an arrow at the swordsman; the pain spreading through the man's leg provided Edward with the opportunity to finish him off. He groaned painfully as he wiped the blood from his blade, looking from side to side to make sure there was nobody else. "Was he the only one in there, Micaiah?"

Micaiah nodded, "He must have been a thief, because he didn't seem to be working with the soldiers and he was raiding that room for goods, from what it looked like." As the group continued on, Edward made sure he was the one who opened – by means of a kick – the doors, just in case there were more thieves lying in wait. By the time they'd reached the stairs extending up toward the third floor there had only been one other instance involving a thief, which had been swiftly resolved when Leonardo lodged an arrow into the thief's forehead.

While the group took a break to recuperate, Nolan rested himself against the railing and stretched his leg out to the side, sighing contently at the relief the relaxation brought to his leg. His head fell back against the railing and his eyes drifted close, and his new calm went undisturbed except for the...

"There they are! Get them!"

"General Jarod said that taking them out takes priority over saving Captain Zaitan! Charge!"

His eyes snapped open and he whipped his head around to watch the doorway as a unit of soldiers charged in. He was spotted immediately, and one – presumably the unit leader – pointed to him while speaking in a hushed voice to the others. After a moment they charged straight for the wall below where Nolan stood, flinging themselves toward the railing. Several managed to get a grip on the first try, climbing their way until their feet rested on the ground on the opposite side of the railing. Nolan took out the first carefully – his leg ached terribly still – as he was climbing over, but the next one was over the railing and had his lance poised to strike before Nolan could steady himself for another attack.

"Guh!" in a blinding flash blood began to spray forth from the soldier's neck and he crumpled to the ground, and Sothe stood in his place. Nodding to eachother the two continued to fight off the soldiers as they tried to climb up, joined soon by Leonardo and Micaiah who used their ranged weaponry to hit men climbing that were out of the range of the two close ranged fighters.

As soon as the unit had been wiped out, Micaiah said, "If the troops outside know we're here, it won't be long before more men arrive. Leonardo and Nolan should stay here and make sure they're taken care of; close and lock the doors at the top of the stairs to ensure this is their only route. Sothe is here now, so the rest of us won't be shorthanded going onward."

"Micaiah..." Sothe started, uncharacteristically in awe of his friend.

"We've got a fine leader in the making here, Sothe," Nolan grinned, nodding toward Micaiah. "Don't baby her so much. I would have said the same thing; she's thinkin' right."

There was a long pause before Sothe spoke, shutting his eyes tightly to will away his worries. When they opened again, he said, "You're right, Nolan." Micaiah smiled victoriously, and the rest of the group nodded. "Lets go, Micaiah."

"Ike! Gatrie's armor just cracked; we can't hold our position much longer!" Boyd cried, pulling hard on his axe to remove it from the latest addition to the growing pile of corpses.

Ike grimaced; this was most certainly not a good thing. He wracked his brain for a long moment, ultimately getting nothing but a headache in return. With a groan, he said, "Soren?"

Soren pondered the matter for a brief moment before he nodded to himself, satisfied, "Boyd, how long can Gatrie hold out?"

Boyd didn't respond immediately, but he was brought out of his musings quickly enough as the sound of steel smacking harmlessly against Gatrie's armor was answer enough, "Long enough. Why?"

"Oscar, Titania, wait here. The rest of us will pull back to the throne room; in five minutes, you two will take Gatrie and Boyd and retreat as well."

It took only a couple minutes for Mist and Mia to alert Rolf and Shinon, and then the mercenaries – save for the four unlucky defenders – were on their way. They paused for nothing in their haste, so hasty in fact that several nearly tripped on one occasion or another. When they reached the throne room they didn't bother closing the door, and soon enough Titania and Oscar – plus their additional luggage – charged into the room, dropping from their horses and shutting the doors, locking them together securely.

"They weren't expecting as strong a resistance as what we've put up, so it will be some time before they breach those doors," Soren explained, inner machinations roaring to life as plan after plan formulated itself in his mind. "Boyd, find some spare material and try to do a patchwork job on Gatrie's armor; Mist will help if necessary. Oscar, Titania, stay at the doors and take defensive stances just in case. Ike..."

"Sit on the throne and be a good commander? I don't think so." Ike frowned, lowering his sword from his shoulder and holding it in ready-to-strike position, "I'll be taking Oscar's place at the defense. Oscar, you help Mia search through our supplies. Find anything that you can use to make food quickly; now is not the time for eating, but we've been fighting for well over two hours."

Oscar nodded and ran over to the supplies that had been removed from the carts and spread out in one of the room's far corners, Mia hot on his heels to help. Ike took a seat against the wall right beside the door, sword strewn across his lap. Rolf and Shinon sat on either side of the door; Rolf next to Ike and Shinon next to Titania, waiting in a similar fashion for the inevitable.

Outside the door, Geoffrey was overseeing the arduous task of breaking down the large doors that seperated their large force from the Greil Mercenaries. Geoffrey himself happened to be cursing whatever he could as he watched his men take a lesson in futility, striking down upon the doors without any success. The only attacks actually making a dent in the surprisingly thick doors were the axes, but even they failed to do any extensive damage.

"Commander, our attempts to break down the door are futile! We should retreat from the fort and regroup," Kieran sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair as he tightened his grip on his axe, his muscles tensing. His eyes were glazed over with exhaustion, a sight not uncommon amongst the Royal Knights after their unexpectedly long siege after a long march. Troops had been tired to begin with, but their movements had since grown sluggish and protests to the continued fighting had become commonplace. It had grown to the point where troops furthest from the front had collapsed to the ground, allowing sleep to claim their weary bodies.

And, in short, Geoffrey was jealous of them.

"Retreat isn't an option. Her Majesty has made it clear that leaving the Greil Mercenaries be is an insult to nobility of the Kingdom of Crimea. As the Royal Knights, upholding the honor of Her Majesty and her kingdom's nobility fall upon us," Geoffrey's eyes betrayed the conviction his words held; the glimmer they typically held was lost, and Kieran was certain it wasn't because of his exhaustion. His lips were uncontrollably bent downwards into a frown, completing the displeased look Kieran had been hoping to see on the face of his superior.

"Commander, you know as well as I that that is not the will of Her Majesty! The nobles are just too stuck up to let Sir Ike get away with his disdain toward nobility. And the reasons for this are far too shady! We shouldn't be hunting down the man who restored our kingdom on such poor grounds. Its insane!"

"Insane or otherwise, Kieran," Geoffrey spat, his calm slowly shattering and making way for the short temper that lay beneath. "We are in no position to question the orders we are given. If you are right, and this operation is wrong, then it is up to Her Majesty to reveal that. Until then, we need only worry about the battle."

"But Commander --"

"-- Discussion over, Kieran."

With a defeated sigh Kieran turned away, not allowing his superior to see the pained expression that crossed his face. Sure, he and Ike weren't necessarily best friends by any means, but they were close enough. And Kieran – ever the loyal Crimean knight – owed the blue haired mercenary far more than most would acknowledge. Not only had said mercenary recovered their kingdom three years ago, but he had also provided sanctuary for its queen for an entire year, sticking his neck out to make sure she remained safe! Not even their Queen realized just how much Sir Ike had done for their kingdom.

And now that same Sir Ike was being hunted like a rat over issues of petty noble squables. Though Kieran doubted that was all there was to it.

"Commander!" A soldier ran forth from amidst the mass of soldiers before Geoffrey and his auburn haired second commander, bowing low before them. "We've made a large hole in the door; it can fit maybe two soldiers at a time. Your orders?"

Geoffrey said nothing as he strode up to the large door, inspecting the hole. Indeed, a large hole – more than four feet in length and a foot wide – had been made diagonally into the door. The soldier had exaggerated a bit; it's shape allowed only one at a time, and with the speed at which the Greil Mercenaries moved it would be suicide to send in one after the other. With a grunt Geoffrey swung his own large, far more refined lance at the door. The sheer force made an ear-splitting cracking noise as his lance dug its way into the door, spreading the gap by another half-foot.

Ike stood and brought his sword to the ready as soon as the cracking noise reached his ears, and the first of the soldiers fell to Ike's large sword before he had his second leg through the large crack. The one climbing in after cried out and fell backwards as Titania swung an axe downward into his chest, pulling her axe back with little effort and tossing it aside in favor of a much large poleaxe.

"Rolf, Shinon, fire through the crack! Don't let them breach it too far!" Ike hollered, his voice rendered nearly mute over the resounding footsteps on the opposite side of the door. The archers nodded and notched arrows, firing them into the faces of the two unfortunate replacements for those Ike and Titania had taken out. They prepared a second arrow each and opened fire, taking out two soldiers further back, and then two more climbing through the crack. Meanwhile, Ike and Titania made sure anyone climbing through the crack were taken out so that Rolf and Shinon had a clear shot at those further back.

"Commander! Our forces are having trouble breaking through!"

Geoffrey's patience – which happened to be as fragile as his temper once his calm was shattered – was coming to it's last threads by that point, and he subsequently barked, "Make removing the lock they set in place priority! If the door is opened fully, it's over!" Such an order was made out of nerve wracking desperation, many realized, but the obligation to obey was strong, and even a suicidal order was to be followed without question.

And suicidal it was. With their focus not on the mercenaries but rather on the lovely lock that was so close and yet so far, any who came close to it were cut down immediately. By the time the immediate casualties had reached twenty, Kieran had decided enough was enough, "By my authority as second commander, everyone fall back from the wall!"

Geoffrey cast a wary glance at his second commander, "I outrank you."

"Commander, our orders were to eliminate Sir Ike and the Greil Mercenaries. How we do so is up to us. Now, we will continue to take far more casualties than necessary if we continue to fight as we are, so we owe it to Sir Ike to at least meet with them on equal terms."

Geoffrey really couldn't dispute that logic, "Very well. Everyone, fall back! Kieran, you and I will meet with Sir Ike. Marcia will come with as a bodyguard. Everyone else, follow Makalov and Astrid and camp outside the walls."

Ike seemed to have heard them, because as soon as the soldiers were away the door was unlocked and slowly opened, revealing equally battle weary warriors for both sides to see – and fresh food behind Ike. Kieran abandoned his knightly exterior at the sight of it, all but drooling as he said, "... May we?"

Ike crossed his arms over his chest, glaring, "You are our enemy, Geoffrey --"

"-- Commander Geoffrey," Kieran corrected.

Ike stared at Kieran for a moment, "... Geoffrey. Now, we may speak as equals, but we will not share provisions with an enemy."

Despite Kieran's vehement – and slightly pathetic – protests, Geoffrey said, "That is understandable, Sir Ike."

The three of them followed Ike toward two dusty couches by an unlit fire where they took a seat, and across from them sat Ike, Soren and Titania. The rest of the mercenaries settled in to eat a fair distance away, giving the six their privacy for negotiations. Geoffrey started things off, saying, "Sir Ike, Kieran has insisted that we hear your side of the present circumstances before anything else. May you?"

Ike nodded, "The nobility have probably been lying to further their own goals. What have you been told?"

Geoffrey frowned, "We've been told that you openly performed acts of treason against Her Majesty, carrying out such acts as senseless murder of Crimean soldiers and murdering messengers."

Ike snorted, "Soren, looks like we can't expect much from Crimea's loyal servants."

Kieran glared indignantly, "Meaning?"

"We were visited by agents of Duke Felirae," Soren answered, returning the auburn haired knight's glare two-fold. "They took to rather forceful actions to get us to return to the Crimean Court."

Geoffrey nodded, "And I take it you said no?"

Titania nodded in kind, "In all due respect, the Greil Mercenaries are not suited for the life of nobility. Nobles have always been something Ike has frowned upon, and even now his opinion remains unchanged."

"And now you see why," Ike added disdainfully.

"Why was Duke Felirae trying to convince you to return?" Marcia asked, her curiosity piqued.

Soren answered, "If we returned under his terms, we would be lapdogs to his will. It is our belief – and this is not simple speculation – that Duke Felirae is planning a rebellion, and his desire to have us return was so he could manipulate us into further securing his own power. As criticized as her rule is, Queen Elincia still has more support than any of the nobles do on their own. Unless they were to form a coalition and usurp the throne, she could suppress a rebellion of any one of them alone."

Everyone fell silent as Soren's harsh words settled in. Geoffrey couldn't deny the possible truth in the words that were being spoken, and that was both refreshing and worrysome to him. At last, he said, "So you are not in the wrong?"

Ike shook his head, "We killed several soldiers, but most of the soldiers we fought at our fort were simply wounded. And it was self-defense, as well."

Kieran jumped to his feet like a delighted kid on Christmas morn', "Commander, they're innocent! We can stop the fighting!"

Geoffrey shook his head, his eyes closing, "Even if what you say is true, Sir Ike, our orders were to eliminate you. We can't return home having not done so."

Soren interjected immediately, "I have an idea."

Kieran grinned at Soren, "Yes?"

"Return to Melior and tell them that we were killed in the battle here. We will carry on our route to Daein and avoid detection, and then you can investigate Duke Felirae."

Geoffrey nodded at once, "That would work. You do know the importance in remaining undetected though? You wouldn't be able to stop anywhere for supplies, and you'd have to stay where there are no inhabitants."

Soren thought for a moment before saying, "Send a message to the troops garrisoned at any base on the road from here to the Great Bridge, telling them that we've been taken out and that they are to return to the capital to await further orders. If you do that, we can get to the border in a few days' time, and be safely in Daein territory in four."

Geoffrey turned to Kieran, "Prepare paper and messengers at once." He turned to face Ike again, frowning, "I am terribly sorry for all of this, Sir. Can we offer you refuge for the night, or..."

Soren cut him off saying, "Our survival must be kept secret from even your knights. We will escape out the east passageway in two hours' time; make sure your knights are in a position where we won't be seen making our escape."

"Of course."

Titania smiled at Geoffrey as they both stood, extending her hand, "Thank you, Sir Geoffrey. For everything."

"Think nothing of it. We serve only the will of the Kingdom of Crimea, and the Duke of Felirae is our enemy in this matter," Geoffrey answered, taking her hand and giving it a firm shake. "And once again, Sir Ike, we are sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Ike responded as he stood, waving a dismissive hand before crossing both over his chest.

Geoffrey's hand left Titania's and extended toward Ike. Ike returned the offer with a nod, and Geoffrey said, "Then prepare to depart, Sir Ike. The men will grow suspicious if we don't act normally."

"We will, Geoffrey."

Micaiah collapsed against a tall oak tree, her back sliding along its length until she finally settled onto the ground, sighing in pure bliss at the tingling sensation the brief relaxation brought her. Sothe stood over her smirking, looking down at her with amusement written over his face. Micaiah looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, saying, "Is there something...?" she rubbed furiously at her face before returning her eyes to his, only to find they hadn't lost the amused glint. "... What?"

"Nothing," he said nonchalantly, and if he were any less a serious person Micaiah would have expected to hear an innocent whistle following close behind. He turned on his heel, eyes scanning the gathered group of thieves in the forest outskirts, and after a moment he said, "Is everyone accounted for?"

Micaiah's eyes scanned the group as well; sure enough, one was missing. Her eyes scanned the group twice more before it finally hit her, and with a gasp she said, "Laura! But..." she paused for a moment, thinking. "She was with me as we made our escape..."

Sothe seemed far less concerned, "We'll split up and search for her. We shouldn't take too long, with luck. Micaiah, you'll come with me."

Micaiah shook her head, "It will take less time if we all search individually."

"But..."

Micaiah gave Sothe a glare, "But nothing. I don't need you babying me all the time, Sothe!" When he said nothing, she continued, "We'll meet at Kunu Swamp in three marks' time. Is that okay then, Sothe?" and a colder glare for good measure.

Knowing he'd been beat, Sothe sighed dejectedly, "... Fine."

And so, when Micaiah was running down a pathway without any support, a nagging feeling that something was wrong growing stronger and stronger in the pit of her stomach, she truly felt like a fool. She came to a stop for a minute, looking around her for a moment before continuing on. She stopped every few steps to repeat the process, and no matter how much she did it the feeling of impending dread never went away. "Somebody is nearby, Yune, I know it..."

She stopped in mid-step as a voice said, "So you could sense me, huh?" Jarod stepped out from behind a tree with Laura in front of him, one arm wrapped around her torso and one holding a knife to her throat. "You are worthy of your reputation as the Silver-Haired Maiden, it would seem."

Micaiah gasped, "Laura!" Micaiah gritted her teeth, glaring despite the futility, "I knew you'd be the one to have taken her."

"And you're as clever as I expected; impressive, though this particular ruse wasn't exactly intricate." He took a step closer to Micaiah and she took a step back, her glare faltering into a look of concern for a flickering moment. "And you even came alone," he continued, smirking. "How very thoughtful – albeit foolish – of you. Was it to give those friends of your's a chance to escape? Pity it left you completely helpless, my dear."

Micaiah ignored his taunt, "Let Laura go!"

Jarod laughed dryly, "Now, you know I can't do that. She's a valuable hostage, after all." He reached a finger forward and stroked Micaiah's cheek, smirking as she flinched away from his touch. "As are you, Silver-Haired Maiden. Alder, come on out. We don't need her getting the idea that she can actually escape."

As Micaiah looked around, all possible routes of escape were lost as soldiers came pouring in from all sides, numbering well over twenty in all with Alder at the head. Knowing all hope of escape was lost – not that she'd had such thoughts to begin with – Micaiah shook her arm, watching as Yune flew from it's perch on her shoulder and high into the sky, "Go, Yune! Escape!"

"Damned bird," Jarod spat, looking to the sky for a brief moment. "Good ridance; I was growing irritated of it's presence." Jarod nodded to Alder who walked forward, grabbing Micaiah's arms and placing them behind her back, restraining her. "Now then, Silver-Haired Maiden, it's back to the castle with you. And as long as we have you, your little friends matter not."

Micaiah certainly had a bad feeling about it all, and it wasn't just from the threat of imminent death.

There's chapter three! Happy reading (I have nothing else to say, really)?