(A.N.: Chapter 9x is a lemon. I haven't uploaded it, but I can send it to you if you want to read it. Drop me a note or a review. Careful, though- it's graphic.
This chapter is meant to unwind a bit from the trauma presented in chapter 9x, so to speak. So, while the information in the first half is vital to the plot (somewhat ), you'll find that it's given in a much lighter tone than some of its predecessors.
In other words: Is there drama? Yes. Is there more stupid humor than other chapters? Yeah. Is it downright hilarious? …No. It wasn't meant to be that funny, mind you. Just more relaxed, that's all. However: this will change drastically towards the second half of the chapter, which will be darker than all the previous chapters. Sorry about the late update, guys. I have another seven or so chapters written up, so I should get one up for every review or so I get. Thanks for being patient!)
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Ch. 10: Misconceptions
"Frailty, thy name is woman." Certainly, no more foolish a phrase has ever been invented by the male psyche, and its idiocy perhaps will remain forever unmatched by society. Via trials and tribulations, I find that the women are sometimes pulling more weight than the men, as strange as that sounds… however, had one told me that but a year ago, I would have responded in turn by laughing such an apparent fool from my sight. Wendy and Amelia are faring well, and are continuing to recover in the medical wing of the castle; I have assured that Frelia's finest priests and clerics were responsible for their treatment. Wendy has escaped generally unscathed (Though the status of her pride is in question; even Bors has been unable to speak to her.), but Amelia will be left forevermore with a rather unsightly scar in her side; the hatchet wound was healed and has left no mark, but the mark of the blade that the blue-haired warrior held proved to be too much for healing staves to completely erase.
Wil and Wolt have had their hands healed, and they have been fully reprimanded by Princess L'Arachel herself (I'd say that for pity's sake I'd feel 'sorry' for the former, but that teenager's incessant cacophony has rendered me unable to muster any sort of sympathy for the likes of him. Wolt and his worrying mother, however, have my pity. Her husband is fretting about the boy, as well… and it's affected his cooking, sadly enough.), and Ross will probably never hear the end of this little escapade from Lute and Serra, who had healed his injuries. I am fairly surprised that I have seen no sign of rejoicing from Erk, Rennac, and Rutger yet; perhaps they're in hiding once again, hoping that this time, they won't be found by their 'retainers' (Though that in itself is highly unlikely. I rather hope they're found; they are seen by the entirety of the camp as scapegoats for the cause.). At the very least, the company's wounds have gotten at least several troublemakers out of my hair; after Ephraim and the other lords are through speaking with me, I'm fairly sure that I won't need another nagging voice reprimanding me for my… miscalculations.
Not surprisingly, Raven has proven too stubborn to allow anyone to heal him, with the exception of his beloved sister or effeminate monk… I dare say, he may be almost as stubborn as others claim me to be.
…Almost being the key word. Despite my claims on the contrary, I'm fairly sure that Ephraim would never budge on his views on my alleged 'stubbornness'. All that goes to show is that he's a bloody hypocrite… and I certainly won't budge on that fact, either.
Eirika has been… rather withdrawn, lately. I wonder what's bothering her… and there was that note that she left on her door this morning, as well. So that could only mean she's gone for a few hours… not that I'm concerned or anything. No, certainly not. To say otherwise is utter blasphemy, though Eliwood and Lyndis seem keen on mercilessly firing off false accusations on a claim that has no foundation in reality. Perhaps associating with foreigners has had a negative impact on the camp, after all.
Ah, yes… foreigners. I still wonder… what of that man, who stabbed Amelia? Surely, all the tremors he went through after collapsing to the ground could only mean that he had to have died from… something. But what? The severity of the man' seizures seem to he unmatched in all of my healers' sightings… a strange case, indeed. Then there's the disappearance of the body… as far as I'm aware, corpses of foreign princes don't dissolve into the ground like shadows before slithering off to who-knows-where. Perhaps one of the druids could replicate that form of transportation. They keep on saying that it's an ancient magic, though, preceding the teachings of modern druids… what could it be?
…Bah. I don't know why I bother writing in this book, anyway. I must tell Eirika about the frivolity of keeping a journal when she returns from who-knows-where… who could have ever given that woman such a foolish idea, anyway? Surely no one from our Frelian army… no one has the lack of sense required to keep a journal, let alone recommend such an atrocity to others. Whoever thought of spreading such a plague should be shot with a full quiver of arrows.
-Innes, Prince of Frelia.
"Eliwood. Eliwood? Milord… where are you?" A small voice rang out as the entirety of the army settled down once again, this time taking up shelter within the Frelian castle. To the great relief of all who had seen the king's deteriorating condition, their lord Hayden had made a speedy recovery after having been found, strained from stress and hiding in the armory. Had Innes not been with them, the bowman king would not have hesitated to pepper the army with arrows before slicing at them with his scimitar, resulting in even more unnecessary bloodshed while also endangering his own life in the process. Luckily, however, Innes had taken the front, insisting in his headstrong manner that he should confront anyone who had dared invade his castle, who had the audacity to attack the king, and now prevented him from bringing his two comrades, Wendy and Amelia, to safety.
Now, she was happy for the successful treatment of her friends, glad that the king was safe, and grateful that they now had a place to spend the night… however, all the petite mamkute wished to do was to find her ever-elusive husband within the seemingly endless corridors of the Frelian castle. She'd never seen such an elaborate system of hallways, and never had she expected to get lost within an ally's castle! Magvelian castles were built far differently from Elibe's, she noticed, taking note of the labyrinth-esque halls and the shorter rooms that made up the estate. Letting her crimson eyes gaze upward towards the ceiling, Ninian noted that there was no way she could revert to her dragon self within the castle without serious consequences to her mobility; she would be lucky if, when simply sitting down in her true form, her head did not chafe against the bricks that lined the top of the room… and chafing scales were ever so uncomfortable.
She dimly recalled the day she had first transformed within Castle Pherae… she had been dreadfully ill with the Ilian strain of influenza, which had rendered her frail human form weak and feeble from the high fevers and muscle tremors it caused to the victims. She had lost control over her human form in the midst of it all, and the stress she was experiencing activated her Dragonstone… needless to say, she recovered quickly after that, (what with her original ability to resist most Ilian-borne diseases… she was rather surprised that her human form had been susceptible to such an illness!) but would never quite shake the look of shock and concern on her husband's face when he saw his wife's serpentine head, popping out of the castle via the shingles of the roof. He had had a lot of explaining to do to the Lycian League after that, and certainly had many bribes to pay to keep the loose-tongued mouths shut.
But that was the past. Now, she had to deal with the troublesome present. While it certainly wasn't a disadvantage to travel with another army, it was quite the distressing scenario indeed for the dragoness; she had no idea who these new recruits were, let alone whether or not they held ulterior motives. After all, she had learned enough from the likes of Legault that appearances were quite deceptive; while formerly a member of the Black Fang, he had ended up being a turncoat to help their cause. How was she to know that she would not be betrayed again, as Nergal had done to her as soon as she and her brother had entered the realm of Elibe? Keeping her wits about her as she traversed the halls, she was not at all surprised when she ran into another member of the now-larger army, perched atop a small wooden stool while appearing to look straight into a stone wall. Her curiosity, having been quite effectively piqued by this eccentric behavior (for no dragon had done such a thing before, and she was fairly sure that grown humans did not do so either on a regular basis…), urged her to move towards the long-haired warrior, watching as they peered into a normal, solid wall.
"E…excuse me?" She asked feebly, watching as the otherwise distracted person merely waved her off lazily with one hand, brushing back some of the long locks of violet hair behind them. Ninian heard the soft, guttural grunt that Karla often gave to those he wished to ignore; a huffing sort of noise, mixed with a growl to create a noise that offered no other explanation other than the desire to be left alone. Rather than adhere to the person's wishes, however, her curiosity bade her continue standing there- she would not make anymore noise, but she certainly had to see what was so intriguing about… stones. The warrior's long, silky locks of deep violet tumbled down from their head to their waist, with the waviness accenting the warrior's muscles while also hiding their face from view… well, that, as well as the wall that now seemed to be grabbing the person's nose. A baggy shirt hung over their torso, hanging loosely around the person's body while retaining only tatters for sleeves; either it was an intentional pair of tears, or they were quite unfortunate with their traveling habits when traversing through rough woods (For trees often snagged the clothing of unwary travelers… Ninian, Tethys, and Lalum all especially had problems with that.). However, it is said that one can almost 'feel' the gaze of another staring at them, and so it was; after Ninian had been staring at the sitting battalion unit for a few minutes, the irritated warrior turned, with a grimace of impatience, irritation, and confusion spread over their face. It was only then that the teal-haired girl saw the small hole in the stone, but that certainly wasn't what mainly captured her attention.
"What're you staring at? Ya got a problem?" An arched brow from the warrior met the stunned girl's shocked gaze as the girl's eyes widened significantly at her new revelation. Quickly double-taking the baritone of his voice, Ninian resisted the urge to gasp in shock upon realizing that the voice that escaped the warrior's lips was male, rather than the female one she expected… yes, the man was certainly toned and rippling with muscle, but she hadn't seen a man with hair so long since Lucius (who she also confused for a female specimen); not to mention that Echidna had been more than offended to hear that she had earlier expected the hero to be male! What with the woman's large, muscled arms, masculine appearance, her ability to socialize well around burly men, and her short hair, it was little wonder that the wife of Marquess Pherae had been taken aback, just as she was now. Her gender guessing had been rather off lately, but she certainly hadn't expected this. She had known from the first instant that this had to be a blood relative of some sort to Geitz, but…
Truthfully, the dragoness had expected this man to be Geitz's sister… not a brother.
"N-no! I-I was just…." She replied, utterly flustered. Feeling the embarrassment catch up to her like a raging fire catches a fleeing snail, she could not help it when the telltale signs of a blush crept over her face; not one of attraction, they both knew, but one that clearly told the other, 'I'm so embarrassed, I could die. Give me the Durendal any day; I'd probably be better off.'
"Watching me, right? Didn't think I was that good lookin'." The warrior joked, smirking at the poor girl's dilemma. He had often seen the strange looks of the passers-by as they strolled down the halls, wondering why he was staring at the walls…. However, this had been the first time that anyone had actually approached him, let alone appeared embarrassed about something. He wasn't quite sure what he had done to spark the girl's embarrassment, but he couldn't help but rub the humiliation in the girl's face for whatever amount of time possible. It wasn't often that one had the chance to manipulate the mindset of the first lady of Pherae, after all.
"Y-yes, but… I mean, no! I just wanted to find my husband, Eliwood. Have you seen him?" The first half of her sentence felt like some sort of monstrous waterfall, gushing forth words she did not mean to say as if gravity were driving every syllable of her thoughts out of her mind through her mouth… certainly not what she had meant to do. The second half of her sentences came out in a rush, too, but at least she had put some thought into it before she let the floodgates open, so to speak.
"Eh? Yeah. He's at the West Wing; take the corridor to the left, and it's the third door to the right. You can't miss it. Oh, and if Echidna's still miffed at your mistake, tell her that I said, 'Look, apparently I'm a songbird now. You're not the only ugly duckling.' I mean, wow… I'll tell you what, there's not ugly ducklings in this steam room, let me tell you that. I'd let you have a peek, but you're a girl… probably aren't interested in seeing the same sex, are ya?" Chuckling mischievously, Geese turned around once more, waving at her with his hands as if to say, 'All right, the show's over. Hurry along, now.'; a sign she had often used with Roy when he was younger. Giggling a bit herself as she followed his directions, she forgot all about her embarrassment before walking down the corridors with a sense of confidence she hadn't felt in ages. Smiling, she broke into a run, hoping to at least catch her elusive mate before he went to a meeting of some sort…
Quickly turning the first left that the warrior had given her, the frail dancer was suddenly greeted with a strange feeling as she collided with someone… dread. She knew the moment she fell to the ground whose angry yell now rose up from the stone, and whose silver hair now lay strain about the warrior's head as the woman struggled to gain her bearings once again. As if insulting the burly hero wasn't enough, the thin-framed girl was now left with the rather uncomfortable realization that she had caused the same hero to become reacquainted with terra firma; something that she could tell that the bandana-wearing warrior wasn't pleased with.
Growling slightly, Echidna reached up a gloved hand, rubbing the place of impact on her skull while hissing obscenities under her breath; she felt the fresh roar of pain, peeling back the flesh covering every nerve before it raked said nerves cruelly with its claws. She knew she wasn't bleeding… that was always a good thing. Turning to see who had run into her, however, a rather disgruntled look replaced the grimace of pain that had just moments ago distorted her features into that of a feral beast.
"Oh. It's you again." She said, keeping her voice as perfectly monotone as possible. What good was it to voice irritation, after all, if the sword could speak volumes? However, she knew of this girl's rank, and so all thoughts of bloodshed fled from her mind… not that she'd let the dancer know, of course. As planned, Ninian looked almost ready to suffocate from self-induced lack of breathing; she was sitting so still and so frozen in fear, one could have wondered whether or not the woman was a dancer or a beautifully carved and crafted statue.
"Oh… oh! I… I… h-he wanted me to say… that purple-haired man…"
"Oh? What about him?" Echidna interrupted, her curiosity piqued. She knew the man well, and was quite surprised to hear that anyone other than the burliest of warriors had associated with him… it would be interesting to hear what he had to say through this girl, to say the least. Had he scared her, perhaps bullying her into saying something for him that would embarrass her? Had she caught him in a compromising situation, but knew enough about Echidna's plight to make her do his bidding (blackmail of sorts…)? Either that, or perhaps he just wanted to see if the girl would play 'messenger pigeon' with him (Similar to the game now known as 'telephone'; only, since there are no technological advances, they often used homing pigeons to communicate; thus, the same game with a different name was created, instead.). Most likely it was the latter; though a strong pirate with many a kill beneath his belt, he was generally good-natured, despite what many thought.
"He…he said… 'Look, apparently I'm a… songbird, now. You're not the only… only…'" Catching herself before she let slip the 'ugly duckling' comment, Echidna nevertheless beamed in understanding, abandoning her formerly stormy demeanor for a hearty laugh that rang through the halls, scaring both dancer and passers-by alike. Upon ceasing several moments later, the silver-haired hero smirked a bit before leaning down to see the shorter girl, eye to eye.
"Ah, you turned Geese into a girl, eh? I told him it would happen one day, what with his long hair and all… that's what probably covered up his Adam's apple, eh?" Laughing her booming laugh once again, Ninian quickly excused herself before slipping into the room that her husband currently occupied, slamming the door shut behind herself before rubbing her temples gently with the pads of her fingertips. Who would have ever known that people of her own land could seem so… foreign? An odd couple, those two had been.
Looking at the audience she had just rudely interrupted, she was greeted with a shocking sight… Lyndis of Caelin was standing between two of the warriors, effectively separating the Frelian archer from the Ostian general with her large sword, the grand Sol Katti. Perspiration graced her brow, causing her tanned skin to shimmer slightly in the light as she visually strained against the strength of her former companion. Hector as well had his mythical weapon drawn, with the sheer size of Armads almost completely overshadowing that of the female marquess's weapon.
Eliwood was struggling, as well, preventing Innes from firing his bow as well as keeping the man from stabbing anyone with his quiver full of sharp, deadly arrows; though the margin of strength was far greater between Lyndis and Hector, the ruby haired lord found himself with a greater challenge… rather than facing a strong but boorish oaf, he found himself fighting a fox. Innes was faster, more clever, and apparently had more malice than the redheaded lord's friend had within him; not to mention that he was better armed with a more versatile array of weapons than Hector would have bothered carrying. When he found that his quiver was now detrimental at this point, since the arrows now lay strewn about him on the floor, his hand immediately flew to the dagger on his waist. Ephraim quickly knocked all the arrows out of his friend's reach, and kept between the battling lords as a last barrier… for he knew that his attempts to aid either side would result in him simply getting in the way of the pacifists. A cry of alarm leapt from Ninian's throat at the sight of the impending bloodshed, she knew she could wait no longer to cease the potential violence.
Barely touching the sapphire stone that she held within a small pocket along the side of her turquoise dress, the dragoness's eyes flared open into orbs of ruby fury as she allowed just her vocal chords to change into what they truly were… the powerful ones of an ice dragon. Taking in a deep breath before clenching her eyes shut as she continued to hear them struggle, she let out all her fear and frustration in one thunderous scream, watching the effects of such a noise unfold before her.
Stop it! All of you… just stop it! It is often said that a drgaon's scream is a noise unrivaled… a sound of pure emotion, whether it be horrendous pain, blinding hatred, unbridled malice, heart wrenching despair, immeasurable fear, or inexplicable joy. The same intense scream that could knock over fully armored generals when in dragon form could also inflict physical damage, even in her weakened human state. The tall windows that lined part of the walls shattered, littering the ground in millions of shards of beauteous glass of all hues. The light played off of each facet, filtering rainbows through each transparent piece while reflecting the respective hues of the stained glass that was displaced by the sheer magnitude of the high-pitched screech. Both man and woman alike shielded the ears as the vibrations caused by her cry washed over them, rendering their sense of hearing virtually nil and causing their heads to collectively ring with the aftereffects of the scream. Humans could not understand her draconic tongue, but they would not have been able to decipher it, even if it was in their native language; the sheer volume would render just about any noise indiscernible.
In fact, had Eliwood not raced forward to hold his frightened wife in his arms, she might have never ceased until her lungs literally oozed blood as a result of burst capillaries in her throat… such was the stress she experienced as a result of the accumulation of all the events that had happened that day. Eirika's disappearance, her getting lost throughout the castle, the news of the injured army members, the rather unfortunate culinary experience she had had in the morning (ill-prepared seafood is poisonous, after all; Lowen's stress had caused him to slip up quite a bit.), Geese and Echidna's encounters, and now the fighting between the lords… it was more than she could bear, and yelling had been the only way to simultaneously release her stress and cease the last problem. While it certainly did nothing to aid the other problems (especially the injured members of the enlarged army… if they were not hurt enough already, a migraine ought to have made their day), she certainly felt better afterwards. The same could not be said of her companions.
Ephraim nursed his right ear more than his left, since that was the side that had faced the dragon when she had loosed her potentially deafening call. Removing the ebony glove from his right hand, he raised his now bare fingers to his lobe, feeling the pads of his fingers growing damp as he ran it over the inside of his ear… withdrawing it, he saw a fair amount of blood staining the hills and valleys of flesh that encompassed the vast majority of his fingertips. It certainly wasn't enough for him to lose his hearing, but more than adequate to elicit a fairly sharp pain from within his inner ear. The same could be said of Lyndis, who was far more accustomed to a virtually silent life on the plains… only, unlike the Prince of Renais, the emerald-haired lady found herself with an uncomfortably soft world from her left ear and a silent one in the right. She was now legally deaf… at least, temporarily speaking. It was nothing a healer could not fix.
Hector and Innes both reeled from the force of the noise, with each man suffering from a minor sense of vertigo as a result; not enough to knock either asunder, however. It was simply enough to rattle their nerves, and give them a brief glimpse at apprehension; if such an obnoxious and obviously detrimental noise was going to be the result of their conflict, perhaps it would be to their mutual benefit to back down…
Of course, their pride being as it was, each patiently waited for the other to step down.
Eliwood, having heard the scream more than enough times at his home palace in Pherae, seemed the least phased of the lot…. But that didn't mean he was completely impervious to her loud vocal chords, either. While his ears rang from the verbal attack and he could feel the vague beginnings of a headache, he nevertheless did his best to reassure her; after all, she had accomplished what she was after. The fighting had ceased, and there apparently was to be no more impending bloodshed among them… it was sad, though, that it took a dragon's scream and now almost-deaf lords to convince them into a peace that should have been forged well enough without it.
Just as he was about to ask her whether or not she was okay, three women burst into the room, with each looking very disgruntled indeed.
"Well, I never!" Serra pouted, rubbing her ears while still managing to have time to fiddle with her pink pigtails.
"That was so… irritating!" Clarine screeched, continuing to use a healing staff to relieve the ringing pain in her ears.
"You should be ashamed of yourself! How would the world live without the Princess of Peerless Beauty?!" L'arachel began, watching as the two men who knew her shook their heads sadly. Giving her a dismissive look, Innes tried to get her to leave solely through intimidation… though, considering the crowd that they accompanied on a regular basis, none of the three would be likely to be scared away that easily.
Elliwood made a mental note to himself which direction the three liberated men ran off to, as he watched Rennac, Rutgar, and Erk rush past the door. All were clearly in a hurry to try to lose their terrorists, but each knew, deep down, that they would be hunted down eventually. It must have been a sad life, for the three of them; always on the run, not unlike wild stag, who constantly watched their backs, lest they be hunted down by ravenous wolves or hungry archers… or, in this case, possessive women. At least they had their uses, which was proven with their prompt healing of their lordships' ears.
Soon afterward, Eliwood was able to fully focus on reassuring his shaking wife as the others focused on various tactics concerning how to remove the three incessant chatterboxes from their presence, lest their ears turn sour once again. They were grateful that they no longer hurt… that was for certain. However, it was the aftereffects that they were worried about, rather than the present (and welcome) relief.
"You three. Out." Lacking finesse, as usual, Hector gruffly pointed them towards the door while urging them out with a glare that challenged them to try otherwise… unfortunately for him, they didn't fall under his intimidating size and volume, but rather defied him openly with a chorus of high-pitched screeches.
"Some gratitude!" Serra huffed, turning up her nose as she usually did to him whenever he tried to order her around.
"Yeah! We could have left you here deaf, you know!" Clarine caterwauled, not even hearing Hector's comment of, 'I think we'd have been better off,' over the volume of her own voice.
"You should be honored! To have been healed by me, Princess L'arachel of the holy nation of Rausten… why, not many have experienced such a privalege! May Latona look down on you always for your ingratitude!" Turning around in a huff, she surprised everyone by leaving… she didn't feel that she needed to be there anymore, not to mention that one of her retainers had gone off and run away again. She swore that he did it, just to look coy… though the thief himself would have proclaimed adversely in his defense.
"Regardless…" Ephraim stated hesitantly, "We… did have a meeting in session, and a confidential one, at that. So, if you ladies wouldn't mind…" He said, motioning as Hector did towards the door. With the two remaining girls feeling as if they were not a whole unit without the daughter of the Rausten Pontifex, they too followed suit, leaving through the same door as she had before slamming it shut.
Not surprisingly, they spent the next few hours running around, working on healing all of the afflicted members of the now hearing-challenged army.
Letting a great sigh escape her lips, Lyndis ran a hand through her hair, being careful not to disturb her ponytail as she skimmed the top of her soft mane. Looking up, she appeared exponentially exhausted… a vast change from the sunny disposition and energy-rich air that had greeted the rest of the group when they had first congregated in the room. Despite this, she knew she had to do what had to be done. Letting loose one more sigh, she knew she was in for a long afternoon.
"So… shall we continue?"
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"…Come on, Titania. That's a good girl." The emerald-haired pegasus knight cooed, gently pulling on the winged mare's reigns as she urged her to the small river that ran just beyond the castle's training grounds. It had been imperative when the castle was built to be close to water; after all, recruits needed to wash after training, horses needed to be watered, pegasi needed refreshment, and the denizens of the castle all needed to quench their thirst, as well. Coincidentally, that was just what Vanessa was doing; she was on water duty that day, sent to gather up the two wooden buckets she now held on a yoke, fill them with water, and return to the castle.
She did thank Latona, even through this arduous task; after all, she could have had to do this task alone. However, with the extra hands about, several members of the other army had offered to lend their strength, as well. As she expected, many of them had mounts to help them… but one or two of them had insisted on carrying the six-gallon buckets without the help of steeds! Two knights, Oswin and Barth, had insisted upon training using the weights; neither used their armor while doing so, and each had vowed to beat the other in a race back to the castle! She admired their steadfast courage, but wondered just how the two were going to avoid straining their backs in the process.
Sighing, she turned back to where she had left her pegasus, only to see that the mare had once again wandered off; only this time, she saw that her mount appeared to be in a state of shock; Titania whinnied in a distressed manner, and seemed to be torn between running away from her object of stress or to smash it underfoot. Vanessa, however, did not allow her to make such a decision, opting to pull her friend away from whatever had flustered her. This seemed to do the trick, though the pegasus seemed almost fixated on the form that occupied part of the forest floor… as if she recognized what it was, but something had been altered, almost to the point where it would be past recognition.
In the past, Titania had been frightened by very few things… the occasional Mauthe Doog's ambush, a sniper operating a ballista, and perhaps Lute, almost clawing to get at her wings; this frightened but simultaneously intrigued her owner. What could have possibly scared her?
Looking to where her pegasus had been whinnying shrilly, Vanessa could see only a mass of pale flesh through the forest brush… that alone frightened her. It couldn't have been Forde; though he loved to recline in the shade, she knew that his armor exposed no flesh besides his face… and she could definitely tell that whatever was there was not dead. She could see the form, breathing weakly as time passed… and she could hear the subdued moans of whatever it was that lay beneath the foliage.
"N-no… don't touch me…" Vanessa's eyes widened in horrible realization as she immediately recognized whom the hoarse but otherwise unchanged voice belonged to… and her heart immediately turned cold with dread. If it was who she thought it was, then Titania had been right to have recognized the form… but the pegasus's frightened reaction also meant that whoever it had been had been seriously changed… or hurt.
Quickly moving the foliage aside, paying no mind to the briars that bit into her flesh, the Frelian pegasus knight resisted the urge to turn away… but did not resist her inclination to scream in utmost alarm and fear.
For the one that lay on the forest floor was none other than the vulnerable and curled up form of Princess Eirika… but she was in far worse condition than she had ever thought possible. Her lower lip appeared to have been cut or bitten, and still continued to ooze out the scarlet liquid of life, as did the two puncture wounds on her neck. Two of the girl's ribs (at least) appeared to be broken, with the horrid bruising that accompanied the broken rib matching the partially sunken piece that caused a dip in her flesh. Her eyes were tightly shut, and she continuously shuddered, as if in constant fear… even though she was unconscious. Her thighs were bruised more than any part of her body, and Vanessa soon saw the horrible signs of abuse, written on the princess's body… and knew that she had been disgraced, unfit for a politically beneficial marriage.
Dried blood caked the insides of her thighs, marked the small of her neck and could be seen marking the front of her skull… and Vanessa knew she could only see the front half of the royal girl's body. Knowing she had no time to waste, she quickly took the saddle blanket from her pegasus before gathering up the princess's weak and battered form in her arms, covering her to save her last shred of dignity before placing her on Titania's back. Knowing that too much vibration would probably hurt her, she knew she would have to get her into the sky as quickly but as smoothly as possible. Urging her pegasus into a swift gallop (for galloping was smoother than trotting, which could hurt the girl), Vanessa quickly took the skies, flying towards the tower that she knew the lords were inhabiting. Knowing that such an entry was against the law but not caring, she swiftly ordered her pegasus to fly straight towards the window…
Smashing through freshly installed stained glass, the female knight heard her prince loudly swear at her before falling dreadfully silent at the sight of the covered princess… immediately after she landed, she pulled the princess's body from Titania's saddle before placing her on the small sofa that Hector had until just now used for a seat. They could all see the blood and bruises on her face, but Vanessa had made sure to cover up the rest of her body… she would never had wanted anyone to see her if she had ever been abused, and was fairly sure that the princess felt the same way. However, without a word, Ephraim pulled back the cover to see the condition of the rest of her body…
…and, for the first time in his life, he allowed himself to openly weep bitterly upon seeing the condition of his beloved sister, cradling her in his arms with a sense of gentleness that could not be touched by even Lucius's caring hands. Tears streaked down his normally strong face, blazing crystalline trails down the contours of his flesh as he looked upon her sad state of affairs… he tried to avoid the numerous bruises that marred her skin, but to no avail; there was no avoiding the vast multitude of the dark marks that pained her. Taking a small handkerchief from his pocket, he dipped it in the cup of water he had been drinking from, and began the task of wiping the dried blood from her face. Upon spotting the two marks upon her neck, he paused before pulling his eyes away… only he and one other could truly understand the significance of such a piercing.
Closing his eyes shut as tightly as possible, he couldn't even hear as his fellow lords called for help… all that was currently within his world was a sense of emptiness and despair as the walls that normally held his mind together began to collapse.
Oh, Eirika… I, the fool who was your brother, couldn't even protect you from him…
