Okay, so somebody saw fit to complain about Elincia's decision to send the Royal Knights to kill the Greil Mercenaries. I can see why this would seem uncharacteristic of her, but that's the whole point. The nobles would be breathing down her neck – particularly Ludveck – to act in the better interest of Crimea. As Queen, its her obligation to do so despite her personal feelings on the matter. So thats how that happened, in case anyone else was wondering.

While we're on the topic of replying to reviewers – although this is a topic I had hoped not to return to – I will respond to Dawn's Shadow and the lovely review you offered. I agree completely that both of those pairings are platonic – and in neither case will I dispute that. And yes, PoR and RD are severely lacking in terms of any real pairings. But the relationship between Ike and Micaiah (starting from a hatred on Micaiah's part to a questionable friendship in the end – exactly where they stand is unclear I think) leaves room for a possible pairing with the extra room for character development in fanfiction.

And so, until such a time when someone gives concrete evidence that an IkexMicaiah pairing is a failed one, my plans for a (potentitally crack, depending on your opinion) pairing between them remain. And on that note, whether or not they will be a doomed-from-the-start pairing or not is unknown; I personally think there's logical hope of sparing them from that fate, especially since a novelization leaves far more room for character development, as I've noted on several occasions.

And thank you to everyone else who has reviewed so far; like with my other fic, I wasn't expecting nearly as much feedback as I've gotten.

The Crimean Royal Court has fallen into the palm of Duke Felirae's hand, making Queen Elincia little more than a pawn as he forces her hand into exterminating the Greil Mercenaries. His decisions are made without regard for human life, careless of what might be lost to gain what he wants. And so it is little surprise that he is not concerned when the Royal Knights return to the capital with many wounded and more dead. The only good news to be had was one that crushed Queen Elincia.

The Greil Mercenaries are declared dead, and their flight toward neighbouring Daein is simplified by Geoffrey's assistance in removing troops from patrolling stations along their route. They march without concern day and night, hindered only by the downpour of rain that threatens to wash away the whole of Crimea. They reach the outskirts of the small town of Buro to resupply before taking on the dangerous task of crossing into Daein territory, where there is sure to be Crimean patrols despite their alliance with Begnion.

Meanwhile, the Dawn Brigade is faced with a far more dire situation. Without the Silver-Haired Maiden they are without any recognizable leadership and the role instead falls upon senior members Sothe and Nolan. Determined to free their leader the small group marches on the prison in the undermanned fortress of Glaive, caring not for the still overwhelming odds they were to face.

The exterior of the Glaive Prison was no more luxurious than a worn out and poorly kept courtyard. Trees lined either side of a securely locked prison door, and a large stone wall divided the many sections of the prison's outer areas. The ground – made of a stone identical to what the walls were composed of – was cracked and split in many places, adding to the entire feel that the place was little more than a lower end prison run by people who cared as little for its maintenance as they did for its inhabitants.

And that was the honest truth at the Glaive Prison.

For his part, Edward was more than a little intimidated by the sheer size of the prison, even from his place far away from the courtyard-like area, in an entirely different section altogether. The place was at least four floors full of prisoners, an exterior that looked nothing short of menacing, and a poorly timed storm cloud overhead made it all seem overwhelming. Teeth chattering as he tried to keep his cool, Edward pointed toward the prison, saying, "We're... going to fight there?"

Nolan laughed slightly, "Sothe is already in there. Before long he'll have Micaiah; then all we need to do is make sure we aren't cut down by the guards as we make our escape. You make it sound so much worse than it is!"

Edward grimaced, "Your honesty doesn't make it sound any better."

Nolan shook his head, "I thought you wanted to become stronger? Become someone we could depend on? Right now you hardly seem like someone I feel safe entrusting with me life." His eyes scanned from side to side, and at last he said, "Perhaps Leonardo..."

Edward glared menacingly at Nolan, "I can protect everyone, and I'll prove it! Micaiah and Sothe will get out here, and I'll make sure we get to safety!"

The walk from then on was quiet. Nolan knew better than to cross Edward in his current mood, Edward was content in his anger-induced silence and Leonardo wanted nothing more than to stay out of their quarrel. Anyone in the Dawn Brigade knew that one of their fights could only be resolved by the timely intervening of Micaiah – who the group was currently lacking – and that otherwise their arguments were something to avoid like the plague.

It wasn't that their arguments were particularly heated – in fact, Nolan was one of the most calm members of the group, though the same couldn't be said for Edward. But their arguments always stemmed from a rather touchy subject that could quickly escalate into something worse with a little urging. Edward's determination to not be a liability was strong indeed and Nolan taking shots at that, be it through casual teasing or him suggesting an idea in which Edward's role was lacking, sparked many an argument between the two. And the last thing anyone wanted was to add more fuel to that delicate fire.

"Hey, you." Nolan looked up from the ground, coming to a sudden halt – inadvertently resulting in Edward walking into his back – as his eyes rested on a soldier. The soldier was distinguishable immediately by the midnight blue armor rather than the common red the Begnion soldiers donned, and rather than the short cut hair that failed to show itself through their helmets this soldiers had strands of lime green hair falling over his forehead, poorly complimenting his dark eyes. His eyes were narrowed into a hardened stare, but there was an evident lack of any malice in them, much to Nolan's surprise.

Acting on the assumption that this soldier wouldn't gouge his eyes out for speaking freely, Nolan responded with a simple, "Yes?" and a curiously raised eyebrow.

As the soldier scowled Nolan wondered for a fleeting moment if he'd misread the man, but the slight chuckle that followed cast aside his worries. The soldier said, "Most people would be more conscious of how they speak in front of Begnion soldiers."

Nolan chuckled in turn, "Most Begnion soldiers would have put me on the end of their lance by now. I can see you have no desire to uphold your empire's tyrrany."

"Begnion isn't my home," the soldier responded immediately. "Now, I take it you're here because of that silver haired woman?"

Nolan gaped, "How did you..."

"I see," the soldier nodded to himself, seemingly ignoring Nolan altogether. "But Laura was imprisoned with her. Follow me." He pulled a set of keys from his side and unlocked the gate behind him. He walked through to the other side and stood to the side to allow the group passage, closing the gate again before passing in front of them and taking the lead.

He stopped suddenly, pointing toward a metal door with trees lining either side of it – almost as if the door were a throne of some sort and the trees were servants, in a strange way. He said, "Your friends should be coming from there. Save Laura for me, will you?" and with that the soldier was gone without another word, leaving Nolan, Edward and Leonardo wondering just why he was aiding them in the first place.

They didn't have long to dwell on it as clearly the soldier's timing was impeccable; they hadn't been standing there for more than a minute before the metal door burst open, revealing the running figure of Sothe, his knives secure at his sides and a large bag over his shoulder. Micaiah and Laura followed, and then came three others – one donning a brown cloak that hid all but few strands of dark green hair, a woman wearing a pink robe of some sort that failed miserably to hide her face and her long black hair, and a young girl. The young girl was by far the most under-dressed - a pale green tunic shirt fit loosely to her frail upper body, leaving her arms bare. Her hair was unrestricted by any hood, a long mane of violet hair falling as low as her upper back, complimenting her eyes that were identical except for the darker shade of violet they held. A miniskirt the same color as her eyes went as low as the end of her hips, leaving the remainder of her legs bare save for the white platform boots on her feet.

Nolan said the first thing that registered itself in his mind, "Sothe, come on! This way!"

Micaiah looked over at them, smiling brightly as she turned to run toward them, not slowing down. When she'd reached them she doubled over, hands on her knees as she panted – no matter how much she found herself running, the odds of her growing used to it were low. "How... did you... guys... get here so fast?" she panted before breaking out into a fit of coughs, managing the strength to straighten herself out afterwards. Sothe came up beside her and eased his hands onto her shoulders as she fought to regain her breath, nodding in Nolan's direction in silent greeting.

Nolan nodded in kind before saying, "We were planning to attack from the back because we noticed it was relatively unguarded – there was only one man guarding there. But strangely enough, he let us in."

Edward nodded before adding, "Yeah, it was weird. He led us here, asking us to save Laura." Laura, who had just reached the group, raised an eyebrow as she heard that.

"How odd... why would a Begnion soldier mention me?"

Unfortunately, the loud shuffling of feet reminded them all too abruptly that they were in no position to be socializing. In fact, the time for running had past – their every escape route was blocked off securely by Begnion soldiers. Nolan chuckled lightly as he took in the sight, saying, "Figures we wouldn't be able to avoid a battle. Luck sure does love Begnion, doesn't it?"

Micaiah sighed, "It would appear so. The odds aren't looking good, either."

Sothe pivoted from his place at her side to stand in front of her, reaching into the bag slung over his shoulder. After a moment he pulled out a tome and pushed it into her hands as he said, "Our odds would be better if we were armed." He then turned toward Laura who was similarly unarmed and handed her a staff, saying, "And a healer is much better off with a staff."

The violet haired girl stepped forward, her face showing the very definition of timid, "S-Sothe... I can... fight too. Can you hand me that..." Her stomach cut her off with a rather large growl but she ignored it, repeating herself, "Can you hand me that tome?"

Sothe fished out the last of the bag's contents and tossed it aside, looking at the tome he held quizzically, "Ilyana, you can use light magic too?"

Micaiah stifled a laugh as she held out the tome she held, referring to the symbols on the hard cover of the tomes, "Sothe, thats a tome of lightning magic, not light."

Sothe shuffled his feet in place, rubbing at his head sheepishly, "... It is?"

Micaiah was unable to stifle her laughter for a second time. She ignored the odd glances everyone gave her as she rode out the laughter, finally managing to gasp out, "I give up. Is it really that hard to tell?"

Sothe turned away as his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, throwing his hands up defensively, "They all look the same to me, Micaiah!" She managed to keep her laughter under control that time, and as soon as he was certain he was safe Sothe turned toward Ilyana, handing her the tome he still held, "If you can use it, go for it. Feels like back in the days of the war, huh?"

Ilyana nodded animatedly, smiling slightly, "Yes, it does... thank you Sothe." Her stomach growled loudly again and everyone but Sothe raised a curious eyebrow whereas Sothe gave off a quiet chuckle, rubbing at his arms absent-mindedly. Ilyana, free of her stomach's interruptions, continued, "I don't want to fight, but at least I'll fight with a familiar face..."

Micaiah wasn't nearly as calm as Sothe was about the matter, waving a hand out in front of her, "You don't have to fight if you don't want to, Ilyana." She pursed her lips, staring down the other girl for a moment before she continued, "You do look a little woozy, now that I think about it. Are you okay?"

The woman wearing the pink robe chuckled, "You don't need to worry about that. Its how she always is."

Micaiah's brows furrowed, "But Aimee..."

Ilyana's eyes showed a fierce determination – as fierce a determination as her eyes could put up in her underfed state, anyway – as she intervened, "No, I... I want to fight. They... made me very angry. The food here was terrible, and they... they gave us hardly any..." She gripped tightly onto the tome, glaring past Micaiah at the wall distantly behind her, "I... I will have vengeance."

"She seems to take food seriously... almost too seriously. Interesting," Micaiah noted, intrigued.

"She's always been like this," Sothe explained with a chuckle.

"And what about you?" Micaiah asked, nodding toward Aimee. "You don't fight, and..."

The cloaked man pulled Aimee off to the side, saying, "Worry not Micaiah. We'll slip off somewhere while you fight. I am sorry to impose."

"It is quite alright, Kurth," she called after him. "May the goddess watch over you," she added quietly, almost as if in prayer.

"Hey, Micaiah?" Sothe shook her shoulder as he pointed toward the soldiers that were now advancing on them, and he added, "Fight now, talk later?"

They didn't really have a choice with the soldiers surrounding them, unfortunately.

The Greil Mercenaries' second crossing of the Great Bridge was a far more peaceful one than their last.

Their first crossing was one full of bloodshed, fighting every step of the way to break through the Daein forces on the border, led by their long time enemy General Petrine. The tactical planning of their mastermind tactician Soren coupled with the surprisingly effective leadership of their commander General Ike had ultimately led them to yet another victory, ending in a complete routing of Daein forces and the death of the first of Daein's Four Riders. Casualties on their side had been limited to the several casualties their airborne forces had taken from the defensive weaponry set in place by Daein.

This time however, was quite different. There wasn't line after line of Daein forces with their shields pushed outward in an attempt to ward off the crossing Crimean Liberation Army. There weren't large arrows soaring through the air, threatening to impale them with it's overwhelming size. There were no pitfalls just waiting to be stepped on, hindering their movements or outright killing them. There was just a warm breeze caused from the sea below them and the small issue of the several craters that Crimea hadn't taken the effort to repair yet. That small annoyance aside, none could deny their preference of this crossing.

"Soren, you said we were meeting someone here?" Ike asked, giving his tactician a sideways glance as they walked on. Behind the two of them were Oscar and Titania, their horses spent and being pulled along beside them by the reins. Rolf and Mist were seated atop them asleep, lacking the sheer willpower that the older members of the Greil Mercenaries had. Shinon and Mia were on the opposite side of each horse and Rhys and Gatrie were behind the horses, making something resembling a defensive formation around the horses and those sleeping atop them.

"Yes, they should be waiting for us at the opposite side of the bridge," Soren responded with a nod. "They pay well too. Over thirty thousand for this job."

"They have a job for us?" Ike raised an eyebrow, curious.

"When I arranged this I asked that they had a job for us so we weren't doing nothing here." Ike nodded in understanding, "As necessary as hiding out here is, the mercenaries will lose resolve if we aren't making money like we're supposed to. As for what the job is, your guess is as good as mine."

The walk continued on in silence, pausing only briefly around noon for some food, courtesy of Oscar as per usual. Rolf and Mist awoke almost immediately to the smell of food much to the amusement of the rest of the mercenaries, and the look on Rolf's face as they awoke was just as amusing – drool pooling at the corner of his mouth and eyes wide with an eagerness last seen at mealtime during the war.

"Here you go," Oscar handed Rolf a bowl filled to the brim with some kind of soup that Rolf couldn't quite identify – Oscar's food often had the tendency to have that atrocious-look-despite-its-taste appeal to it. Oscar's broad and out of place smile was there as usual, and Rolf offered a small gracious smile before ravenously devouring the contents of his bowl, thankful they had Soren there for the embarrassing task of using his talents in fire magic to heat the soup he was now eating. Mist laughed rather loudly when she saw more of it around his mouth than in it and Rolf stuck his tongue out at her childishly, blowing a raspberry. It was a light hearted moment that nobody could be annoyed with, given the otherwise seriousness of their situation. Rolf became the center of attention throughout the entire meal, trying his best to tell jokes – although jokes said often ended up being centered around him.

As soon as they had finished and packed away what Oscar had taken out, they were off again. The opposite end of the bridge had long since stopped being a distant destination – the small signs of an encampment at the end had been visible for quite some time. They managed to reach the end of the bridge within an hour's time from then, finding the camp empty but a small fire still blazing in the makeshift pit in the center. The mercenaries sat around the fire and Soren shot a small fireball at it to renew its strength - all were eager for the warmth that the small fire provided.

"Ike, you've grown man! Its been a while." All eyes turned toward the edge of a small forest where a young man no older than eighteen stood, smirking. An orange cloak covered his upper body well with cloth wrapping around the parts of his upper arms and stomach that the undersized cloak failed to cover. His cloak complimented his bright red hair and his piercing red, almost demonic looking eyes that, in conjunction with the smirk on his face, gave him a quite devilish appearance. His lower body was covered by brown cargo shorts and brown boots with the same cloth poking out from his boots and wrapping around his calf. Lastly was the leather gloves with green fingers over his hands, hiding the callused hands that lay beneath.

"Tormod!" Ike was up with a start, throwing his arm out to clasp his hand to Tormod's gloved hand as the boy approached, both grinning widely. "I knew Soren contacted someone, but I didn't expect it to be you!"

Tormod nodded, grin in place, "Yeah, well, I've been in Begnion trying to dig up information about whats going on between Empress Sanaki and Senator Numida, the guy running the show here in Daein. Turns out he's responsible for Daein's state, and I'm hesitant to believe Sanaki is aware of that." Ike nodded in understanding, and Tormod continued, "So when I heard that you guys were on the run to Daein, I figured that you'd be able to lend me a hand."

"What with?"

"See, I've been trying to help the Daein citizens however I can. But constantly running between here and Sienne makes that rather difficult. So I was hoping I could hire you guys to do that for me," Tormod explained, waving his arms in emphasis as he went.

"Sure thing. What should we do?" Tormod waved a hand and a girl stepped out from behind a tree, holding what seemed to be a map in her hand. The most noticeable feature on her body were the large black wings protruding from her back, spread wide. She wore a red sleeveless shirt that tied together around her neck, leaving a golded ring just below her neck. Raven black hair – that Ike saw as an irony because the wings were most certainly Raven wings – cascaded down to her shoulders, and deep blue eyes were narrowed in what seemed to be a permanent skeptical look.

"This is Vika," Tormod stated, throwing an arm carelessly around her shoulder as she approached. "She's an assistant in my emancipation efforts in Begnion, as well as a personal assistant in many matters." Vika nodded as she handed Tormod the map, who in turn handed it to Ike, "That map points out places where oppression is at its worst here in Daein. Start with those locations, liberating those areas from the Occupation Army. You shouldn't have too much trouble."

Ike nodded, "What kind of numbers are we up against?"

Tormod tapped a finger to his cheek for a moment in thought, and then said, "Numida has made sure the majority of their forces are kept in Nevassa to be dispatched as necessary, but these places wouldn't be suffering from oppression if Begnion's hold on the area was weak." And with a reminiscent look on his face, he added, "We faced worse odds three years ago, I assure you."

Leaving the business to Ike really wasn't working for Soren anymore, who looked over his shoulder and said, "You told me nothing about the danger we'd be facing. Another ten thousand is perfectly reasonable, given the situation."

Tormod laughed loudly at that, "Funding isn't a problem for me, guys. Another ten thousand is fine, so long as you do you're job."

Ike smirked, "We always do."

Tormod nodded, "You guys do great work. Haven't heard a single instance of your work being any less than fantastic in the past three years." Seeing Ike's raised eyebrow he addressed his unasked question, continuing, "I've got ways of getting information about affairs just about anywhere in Tellius. I really should thank the Ravens for their talents in slight of hand matters," with a laugh.

"How are Naesala and Tibarn anyway?" Ike asked, trying to control his laughing despite failing miserably. Hearing Ike laugh so heartily got nearly all the mercenaries' eyes on him; he'd been rather restrictive when it came to showing his emotions, after all.

"Naesala's no different. Still a deceptive king if there ever was one – he's managed to keep his ravens away from Begnion's merchant ships for a whole four months though. I found that more than a little surprising, to be honest." Ike chuckled under his breath at the joke hidden beneath the serious statement and Tormod went on, "Can't say I know how Tibarn is though. Being a model king, I suppose, because there's been no word of anything worth noting happening in Phoenicis."

Ike nodded with a reminiscent smile on his face – he and Tibarn had been quite close in the short time they were in the company of each other during the war. "Sounds like Tibarn all right."

"Yeah." A brief silence fell over the group but Tormod wasn't about to allow that, so he hastened to say, "Anyway, I've dug up some information, and your best off going to Teran to start. Begnion has set up a nice trade outpost there and has made it the places where all supplies from the capital are sent. Its heavily guarded for that reason, but its defense is solely in its soldiers – it has no natural defense whatsoever. Or structural defense for that matter; Begnion is prideful in its superiority to a fault, it would seem."

Ike nodded in agreement, "If we wipe out Begnion's hold on that area their main means of supply transport will be cut off."

"And their treatment of Daein means this would be their only means of having any considerable amount of supplies. A movement like that would suppress the majority of Begnion's military – Daeins seeking to revive their country would rise up all over the place," Soren added.

"Exactly! So basically, you take that place and Begnion's hold on this country takes a huge hit. They'd be forced to improve their treatment of the area to some extent just to survive, and that is a start to be sure." Tormod nodded to himself, pleased. "Anyway, Muarin's probably getting worried by now. Best of luck to you all, but I'd best be going."

As soon as Tormod had taken his leave – or rather, Vika had taken her leave with Tormod hanging from her talons – the mercenaries got ready to leave, crowding about Ike to await instruction. Ike stared down at the map for a moment before pointing toward the southeast, "We'll go to Teran. I hope you're all itching for a good fight, because we're going to get one."

"You! Crawl back into your cell and weep for your life, and I'll spare you." A mounted knight charged toward Micaiah, sword held high in the air as he rode. His features save for low cut brown hair and a face that could only be called disfigured were hidden by a red helmet. His teeth were clenched together almost painfully tightly in anger – more than likely due to the fact that his large numbers had been proved worthless against the Dawn Brigade's tactical fighting and use of what terrain was offered.

Micaiah smiled menacingly as one hand tightened around her light tome, the other open palmed over her head, "Don't get cocky. This isn't our first fight, and I'll make sure it isn't our last."

"Strong words for such a small person – you're bave, I'll give you that! But foolish!" He slashed vertically and a blast of wind shot from the sword and Micaiah jumped to the side, narrowly dodging the attack before unleashing her own attack, sending the tendrils of light from the palm of her hand toward the knight. He managed to draw back his steed and dodge the attack but his horse wasn't nearly as lucky, taking the full force of the attack and sending it's rider flying toward the ground. He grunted painfully as his horse collapsed on his lower legs, leaving him immobilized as a second attack from Micaiah hit home, tearing through his armor and tearing through the flesh that lay beneath.

As soon as the knight was done writhing in vain on the ground he looked up at Micaiah, eyes narrowed and his mouth crooked in a smirk, "Even if you run, scum..." he coughed loudly and blood spewed from his mouth. Weakly wiping it from around his mouth he continued, "There will be nowhere to run... Begnion's hand... reaches... all."

Micaiah smiled down at him, closing her eyes and bringing her free hand up in prayer, "Then we will sever the hand that is reaching for us. Rest in peace."

"He's the last of them?" Sothe asked, walking toward her with Nolan and Edward close behind. Leonardo was standing off to the side while Laura tended to a wound he'd taken to the arm, and the same soldier in blue was standing beside her, almost like a guard dog.

Micaiah nodded, "If there are more waiting for us out there, we don't need to worry. He seems to have been their leader."

"This sword is nice," Edward remarked randomly, grabbing the sword the knight had been holding from the ground. "A magic sword?"

Sothe looked over his shoulder at the sword, "A wind edge, it would seem. I'm surprised such a low ranking soldier had one – weapons imbued with magic are a rare find."

Edward nodded as he bent over the knight's corpse, removing the sheathe from his side and placing it on his own waist, opposite his other sheathe. Placing his new sword therein, he said, "Doesn't matter to me. Their mistakes are our gain, right?"

Nolan laughed, "Indeed. And we need everything they have to offer us, unfortunately."

Laura ran over at that moment, the soldier and Leonardo in tow, "We're ready to go. You don't mind Aran and I staying with you guys, do you?"

Micaiah shook her head hastilly, smiling, "Of course not! Your help is greatly appreciated, both of you."

Aran nodded, his expression unchanging, "I'll do whatever you ask of me."

Micaiah pondered the notion for a moment, "We should get some distance from the prison before we settle down to rest. You guard Laura – we don't want a repeat of this incident. Leonardo will stay close by as well – Sothe and Edward can stick with me. Nolan, fit yourself in where you feel needed. Alright?"

Sothe smiled slightly, patting Micaiah on the shoulder, "You're growing up fast – faster than I'd thought possible."

Micaiah nodded, her stone-like gaze fixed on the road ahead as they began walking, "I have to be, Sothe. I'm the leader of this group, and you know I can't continue relying on you and Nolan. I need to become a leader on my own."

"I know, Micaiah. Just don't overwork yourself; a good leader is worthless if she's too spent to lead us."

Micaiah sighed despairingly, "I know. But we can't dwell on that now, can we?"

Sothe gave Micaiah a sympathizing glance before hanging his head, "I can't protect you from that, can I?"

Micaiah reached up and pressed her hand to Sothe's shoulder, "I'm grateful, Sothe, but no. We each have to do what we need to do, and I can't keep looking to you to do my job for me."

Sothe's hand covered Micaiah's considerably smaller one as he looked down at her, "Yes, I know. But I'll always be here, you know that right? I'm not going anywhere."

"Of course. I don't know where I'd be without you, Sothe," Micaiah responded, her grip on his shoulder tightening almost painfully as she brought those thoughts to mind. She truly did owe him far more than either really acknowledged. The young Sothe she had met so long ago was a distant memory to the mature, strong man that now stood by her side, guarding her with a determination far stronger than most would think possible.

"I hate to cut in on the meaningful moment between you two," Nolan put in, prying his way between the two. "Really, I do. But this isn't the time nor the place. And we've got news."

"Good or bad?" Sothe asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Take it as you will." With a shrug, Nolan took to explaining, "Begnion soldiers back at Glaive were talking about a curious subject – one you'll be interested in, Sothe, I'm sure."

"Oh?" Sothe pressed, intrigued.

"Yeah." Nolan took a breath – mainly to hold off for a moment, much to the chagrin of Sothe – before explaining, "Seems Crimea is going into a downward spiral as well. Rumors are that Queen Elincia and her court are falling into frequent disagreements – some rumors go so far as to state that some of the nobles may be planning rebellion."

"And why is this a subject we need to worry ourselves with?" Sothe asked irritably.

"Easy," Nolan waved his hands frantically – he wasn't in any mood to face the extent of Sothe's uneasy emotions. "Seems one of the nobles tried to get some added muscle – tried contracting a group of mercenaries."

That had Sothe's attention, "The Greil Mercenaries?!" he exclaimed, shocked.

"Sounds right. They're the ones led by General Ike, right?"

"Yeah."

"I thought so." Nolan sighed, rubbing at his head before continuing, "They turned down the request – some say they accepted at that they're leading some rebellion in Crimea, but I seriously doubt it. The popular rumor states they have been labeled rebels in Crimea and were put to flight, hunted by Crimea's Royal Knights. They were on their way here it seems, but nearly all rumors state that they met an unfortunate end at Fort Derta."

Sothe shook his head, "General Ike wouldn't die so easily. What do the other rumors say?"

Nolan seemed to have a faraway look as he said, "If they're alive, they've already reached Daein. What they are doing here is anyone's guess – They sided with Begnion last time, so it wouldn't surprise me if they did again. I'm sure not looking forward to fighting the heroes of the war, thats for sure."

Micaiah cut in, sounding more than a little irritated, "If they're here, we'll find out eventually!"

Nolan looked over at Micaiah in shock while Sothe turned to her entirely, shuffling sideways to keep up with her as he said, "I know you don't like General Ike. Sorry about that."

"I don't hate him, Sothe. But you idolize him! And if you haven't forgotten, it is his fault our country is in this state now."

A similar thought was running through Ike's mind as he drove his sword through the gut of a Begnion soldier. It was his fault. These people were on their hands and knees, starving or out and out dying from poverty – and he was completely to blame. As a mercenary, it wasn't his place to feel guilt over what happens in the wake of what he's paid to do, right? And his participation in the war was nothing more than a contract with Elincia.

But in a distant sense, Daein was as much his home as Crimea, he mused. He may have been born in Gallia and grown up in Crimea, but Daein was where his father – who's shadow he still walks in – was from. Try as he might, he couldn't take a detached approach to the plight the country was in; that problem was only made more urgent when the fact that it was his fault came to light.

Soren stood nearby, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Ike's distant expression, though he said nothing to his friend. The two continued about their business in silence, cleaving and blasting their way through the Begnion soldiers that dared stand in their way. Teran was as much a lost cause to hold as Tormod had made it out to be, after all – the city had low walls that Rolf and Shinon quickly scaled, rocky plains surrounding it that made attacking the mercenaries as they approached impossible. Not that they would have attacked; it was now late at night, and the watch only got light from the moon, and that was nowhere near enough light to see the mercenaries as they converged on the small city.

The Begnion army had been taken by complete surprise. They hadn't seen anyone until Titania and Oscar were at the south gate cutting through their guard and then assaulting the gate. By the time they'd mounted a defense the gate had fallen and Rolf and Shinon had scaled the walls, and with the other gates sealed the battle became a bloodbath. Superior fighting skill was the order of the day in such a situation – despite having only ten fighters against a defending army of nearly three hundred, which was considerable given how Begnion's soldiers were divided across Daein, the Greil Mercenaries had been quite efficient in routing the Begnion soldiers on guard.

The mercenaries now raided the small castle-like structure that acted as a palace of sorts to the defenders, wiping out whoever was on defense therein. Gatrie and Boyd stood guard at the doorway in case reinforcements arrived and Ike pressed on with the rest of the mercenaries, cutting his way through the halls until they found the last corridor before the throne room, where they now found themselves held down by what seemed to be at least fifty more soldiers. Ike headed the charge as they fought to break through but the soldiers would not be pushed back so easily, planting their shields firmly in front of them and preparing to hold their position to the end.

It was just a pity that shields couldn't protect them from painful blasts of wind or swords bigger than the shields themselves.

Mia was taking a far more original approach to the matter. Forsaking any of her knowledge of dealing with shielded foes she lunged at them and swung wildly, logic be damned. Her first swing got lucky and managed to remove a soldier's head, and the second took off the arm holding the shield for another soldier, but the third swing ended up having her stuck in place, sword dug into another soldier's shield. Oscar's spear intervened at the most opportune moment and kept her from making the small palace her grave and she pulled her sword free, resuming her logic-forsaken method of dealing with the Begnion soldiers.

Mia's erratic attacking, Ike's devastating assaults and Soren's magic all came together in a decisive attack that left the Begnion soldiers reeling for their lives within minutes. It wasn't long before they'd cut their way through, rushing toward the throne room where another small group awaited them – this group seemed to lack any form of discipline and either charged at the mercenaries or turned tail and ran. These two factors made dealing with the last of the soldiers a simple matter, and soon Ike was looking over the state of the palace – it was another place belonging to Daein that he had damaged, he noted bitterly.

"That is the last of them," Soren confirmed, standing beside Ike as he surveyed the room.

"Mia, go with Oscar to secure the supplies from the treasury, armory and kitchen. Anything we can't take with us is to be gathered together and burned," Ike ordered with a wave of the hand, moving toward the regal seat at the far end of the room and collapsing into it, sighing deeply.

Mist walked into the room shortly after and, noticing her brother's distress, said warmly, "I know you don't like it here brother, but at least the pay is good! And --"

"-- No."

"No?"

"Mist." His voice was more stern and Mist flinched, timidly walking toward her brother, eyes wide with an inquisitve fear. "This place is as it is because of us."

Soren put in pointedly, "We're mercenaries. Dwelling on the damage we cause for pay is pointless."

Ike nodded, "I know that. But while this isn't my own home, it was my father's home."

Realization dawned on Mist, "You..."

"Soren, quickly go tell Oscar to distribute half of the food we secured here amongst the townspeople."

Soren nodded and walked away, leaving brother and sister alone for the moment. Mist couldn't look more pleased with her brother if she tried, but Ike looked utterly perturbed. Mist said comfortingly, "You did the right thing, helping the people."

"What Begnion is doing here is wrong. It isn't our job, Mist, but we're going to help then," Ike affirmed, eyes showing a resolve that Mist hadn't seen since his days pursuing their father's murderer – the Black Knight.

As Ike stood Mist rushed forward, throwing her arms around the strong muscles of her brother's stomach, "Father would be proud of us, wouldn't he, Ike?"

"Yes, he would."

"He's still with us, you know."

"How so?"

"You remind me more and more of dad every day, Ike. You've become every bit the man he was."

Ike at last wrapped his arms around Mist, holding her tightly against him. "Thank you, Mist. That means a lot to me." It dawned on Ike that at that moment, he had left his father's shadow. He wasn't the growing man chasing the memory of a father he couldn't live up to – he was a strong man who was every bit the leader and fighter his father was. He was carving out a name independent from the name his father had so strongly established, and he was beginning a new journey. One that would test his abilities to live away from that shadow, to stand on his own two feet.

Neither he nor Mist noticed the eyes looking down at them from the balcony above.

There is chapter four! Lots of stuff happening with Ike's group now – they'll continue to hold a role as important as the Dawn Brigade's through the entirety of Part One. Ike is technically the main protagonist, by the way, so I'm trying to give him just a tiny bit more focus than Micaiah. But since Part One was all about Micaiah, there's only so much I can do about that right now. This factor will be more noticeable in later chapters.

Also, I start school next Wednesday (boo...!). I have a Code Geass update to do before then, and depending when that gets done I'll try to have another chapter of this before Wednesday. I make no promises, but I'll try my best. But going into Grade 11 and taking University level courses (I'm Canadian, in case anyone is looking at me wondering what the hell a University level course is) will be putting a small delay on updates for a while, so we may be looking at as long as a week between updates once school starts. We'll find out once I see just how bad the workload is, I suppose.