hmm… sorry it's been so long since my last update ;; but my grandfather passed a few months ago and since we're one big family of spanish women it took a little while to get all the intercontinental affairs in order… and moving furniture around takes like five or six of us X.x
promise the next one will be up much sooner! please continue to read and enjoy! and thank you for already having done so (i hope)!
Marth's footfalls were silent as he stole through the hallways. The sentinels that patrolled the castle at night were absent in daylight, but the 'unwell' king could spare no caution; he mustn't be seen. Creeping his way towards the dungeons, however, was infinitely preferable to the task awaiting him.
He didn't want to. But it was his duty as sovereign.
And.
It was all his fault.
Marth scowled, recalling his barbaric behavior. His prisoner had not been executed. He had been murdered, murdered by a bloodthirsty beast. Marth had never done anything like it before; he had never so completely lost his sense of self. He shook his head with both repulsion and resolve. Never again.
Yes. His enemies could do terrible things to his people, had done them to Roy, but as king, he couldn't afford to lose his head. He had to remain alert. If he was going to protect his country, he needed every whisper of information he could get.
And since he had so spectacularly slaughtered a source of said information the previous night, he would have to scrape as much as he could from the remaining prisoner.
But when he arrived, the cell was empty, the body gone.
Marth suspected his overprotective bodyguard might have had something to do with it. And sure enough, in the other prisoner's cell, he found Navahl already hard at work.
The confined man was in a pitiful state, dismembered, sliced, bloody all over. The blade Marth had put through his knee remained and the flesh surrounding it had acquired the dark hue of disease and death. Navahl was at his back, a hand on his shoulder, the other around his wrist, the man's arm twisted at a horrible angle. Any moment and the bone would give.
"A little early for torture, isn't it?" The wind user glanced up from his task and greeted his king with a smirk, shifting the prisoner's arm in his socket. The man's entire body contorted in an attempt to relieve the pain, if only a bit, but Navahl adjusted with him.
"It's noon." And to punctuate his words, Navahl gave a sudden twist, breaking the enemy's arm with a sharp crack. "I take it you slept well?" He released the man, wiping grime coated hands on his overshirt and stepping away from the whimpering, trembling prisoner.
"Very well." Marth couldn't stop staring at the man in the chair struggling for breath, but Navahl quickly put himself between them, watching the ice user's eyes for any dangerous shifts. Assured that Marth had no intention of repeating the previous night's mistake, Navahl took notice of the insinuating bruise planted upon his face.
"Oh? Because someone knocked you out?" Navahl's subtle inflection on 'someone' made clear which fire user he suspected. A boyhood grin touched Marth's lips before forming around a soft 'no.'
"Well. Regardless." Navahl was sure Roy had made the mark. And though the young king saw no menace in the boy, Navahl intended to watch him closely; Altea's enemies had already come close enough. "It seems the intruders come from Bern."
"From Bern?" Marth turned wide eyes on the source of this incredible information. Bern was currently waging a war against a powerful military nation. They couldn't possibly spare the manpower to invade Altea as well.
"The terrorists we encountered were only reconnaissance, but there will be more. And Dolua is already their ally."
"Their ally?" The news had reduced the young king to repetition.
"Bern intends to cripple Altea early and in a single blow."
"A single blow?" Marth tried to get his mind around this sudden revelation. At least enough to form his own words. "Bern underestimates Altea's knights."
"Overestimates, actually. They plan to strike when Altea's army is halved. And Dolua will assist in the attack." Marth was silenced. Three fronts. Fighting Bern in both Lycia and his beloved Altea, where he had expected only Dolua. It was certainly the quickest way to conquer Akaneia; Dolua was Akaneia's deepest breadbasket, despite Talis' best efforts, and as an ally, Bern could put a chokehold on the continent's food supply. And if Altea indeed fell as the battleplan anticipated, Bern's greatest military threat would be eliminated before the rest of the world even knew Akaneia had been invaded. And Bern's military might combined with Dolua's vengeful mind-set against Talis' spare troops and only half the Altean Knights, surely Altea would fall.
But.
Only the king's council knew of the plan to send troops to Lycia. And it wasn't even final yet.
"And the traitor?" Navahl had seen Marth's thoughts flitting across his eyes. The boy king already knew which man had betrayed him.
"Garnef."
Marth closed his eyes. Of course Garnef would enlist the help of the Doluans and in turn, the Bernians. Even if he killed Marth, Altea's knights would never pledge loyalty to the high priest; his brothers would demand the crown for Commander Jeigan. And Altea's people, her sons and daughters, would call for their beloved Ellis to take the crown. Marth's death would bring civil war to Altea, a civil war which would steal Garnef's right to the throne.
He would need an army of his own.
And he had found two.
Marth pressed a despairing hand to his own forehead. Any change in tactics would reach Garnef's ears. His enemy knew everything he knew.
Except Roy.
They thought the fire user was dead.
Marth dropped his hand and rested it atop Falchion's hilt, new hope sparking. A powerful fire user was a huge advantage in battle. Roy's wildfire could easily tear down a hundred men.
And Marth.
They thought the ice user was dying.
He was a powerful melee warrior as well; the ability to send blades of ice long rage would be another serious advantage. He wouldn't be able to keep it up for long, but he would take out at least as many men as Roy.
Yes, there was hope for Altea's victory, but it was not enough. Altea needed a strategy. Marth needed council. His own personal council.
But first.
Marth unsheathed Falchion and pointed her at the tortured man. "This sword slays dragons, Bernian. Let us see what it does to dragon-worshippers."
--
Those closest to the young king had gathered in his empty room, which the two Lowells had soundproofed with ice and outside of which Navahl had set security wind currents. The secretive six sat in a circle, Marth and Ellis on either side of Roy, Sheeda and Oguma to Marth's right and Navahl beside Ellis. Sheeda and Marth traded glares over Roy's inclusion, but the king had already decided.
Navahl, as the only one among them privy to every detail, began the explanation. Since Marth already knew the story, his focus was situated on the fire user beside him. The boy paid very serious attention to the state's affairs. The young king smiled to himself. With his brow drawn so stern, the corners of his mouth so pouted and those passionate blue eyes so engaged, he was almost cute.
But when Navahl revealed that Roy's captors had been from Bern, Marth watched as the fiery light in his eyes flickered between anger and uncertainty. No. Roy wouldn't understand what Bern was, would he? He couldn't remember anything. Marth thought of the fire user's surprise when he had learned the Lowell king was an ice user. Even common knowledge eluded him. Much of this political entanglement would be lost on him.
The air around him chilled as he also thought of the men responsible. Both Roy and Sheeda glanced in his direction, feeling the temperature drop, but only Roy recognized the cold fury on Marth's face. The fire user answered with the king's own teachings.
He heated the air around the king, spiraling in until warmth reached him. He led the heat through Marth's body, warming the tips of his fingers, his hands, his wrists, his arms, his shoulders, until he reached his core. He watched as the frozen boy beside him relaxed.
Marth blushed, dropping his chin slightly so that his bangs shadowed his face. Roy's using had been so gentle, so intimate, like the comforting hands of a lover. He turned curious eyes on his companion, whose expression he couldn't read clearly. Concerned. Encouraging. Reassuring. Marth shook his head and laughed silently to himself. Roy's intention was purely innocent; he was just imagining things.
Neither Ellis, Oguma nor Navahl noticed the quiet exchange, engrossed as they were, but Sheeda had seen everything. And though she didn't understand exactly what had taken place, the smile it put on her friend's face convinced her that there was more than impulse to this fire user.
All attention reconvened upon Navahl as he leaned forward.
"We need a plan."
Sheeda leaned back on her hands and sarcastically contributed. "Yeah, we need their plan."
Oguma ignored the jest in his wife's comment. "Right. Well, what do we know? Has Garnef made any suspicious moves lately?"
"Are we talking about the same high priest? Because the one I'm talking about is always suspicious." The Talisian general, again, ignored the mockery in his wife's voice.
"Since King Cornelius' death?" Marth, unlike his dear friend, took Oguma's inquiries seriously. The man was a brilliant general and an envied tactician.
"Garnef opposed sending Altea's knights to Lycia."
"What was his reason?"
"A weakened Altea would invite Dolua." The six encircled minds worried at this behavior, guessing its motive.
"Well…" The royals were all surprised out of their conjectures at the sound of Roy's small voice. He hesitated under their curious gazes, his eyes darting nervously toward Marth, seeking reassurance. When he found it, he charged forward. "He just needed an excuse. Garnef knew Dolua wasn't coming until he called. He didn't want to send troops against his ally."
Oguma, having come to the same conclusion, gave the boy a closer look, finding the strategic esteems in him his darling Sheeda had missed while angrily describing him.
"And at the most recent council, Garnef had changed his mind because Lycia was losing." Realization suddenly hit the young king as he spoke.
"Because Bern was sure to win." And it seemed it had hit Navahl as well.
"And could spare its army." And Ellis.
"What?" Oguma interrupted their optimistic insight. "Lycia isn't losing. She's fighting like a dog." Shadows passed over the faces of the Alteans, recalling where their misinformation had come from. The young king hadn't even considered the lie because Commander Jeigan had agreed, but Jeigan had been eager from the beginning, hadn't he? "Which means something else changed his mind for him."
"Roy." Sheeda finally leaned forward, suddenly serious. "Garnef killed him when he left him to die."
"Because he knew of the Bernians' presence." Navahl finished for her.
"So they've expedited their plans for Altea's invasion, despite the risk they face in Lycia?" Ellis questioned skeptically.
"They're desparate." Oguma answered. "They have assumed the worst: that Roy has made contact and alerted Marth to danger. They must strike before Altea discovers them. Bern's armies travel south as we speak; the moment they reach the capital, they will attack." The general spoke as if he himself commanded their troops. He knew enough of their plan now to imagine their next move.
"Then we must assuage their fears, hold this fight on Altea's terms." Marth already had an idea. "A feint."
"A feint." Oguma's tactical mind ticked along with Marth's. He spread a conjured blanket of sand in the center of the circle and traced a hasty map of Altea across it.
"We'll send half the knights toward the harbor." Marth drew the path from the capital to Altea's only port city. "But instead of to the coast, they'll circle around to the west, and return from the south." He looped his line around the dot that represented the capital.
"Where they'll rendezvous with Talis' troops." Oguma struck a line from the south into the dot in the center, crossing it through Marth's loop.
"How quickly can you have your soldiers here?" Marth addressed the Talisian general, who spent a moment calculating.
"Three days."
A cautious optimism was rising in the young king. It could work. Bern would march through Altea's northern border and Dolua through the eastern. Altea could win.
But Garnef would have to believe it.
"Sheeda." He turned to the expert plant user. "Do you think you can emulate the effects of Garnef's poison?"
--
Marth entered the council room in his bedclothes, leaning heavily on Navahl, sweating, panting and quelling a horrible urge to vomit. He didn't have to fake anything; Sheeda's poison had made sure of that. Upon seeing his condition, the commander and his captains leapt from their seats in sudden alarm. The young king settled them with a dismissing wave and cringed as Navahl arranged him at the head of the table. Marth insisted on standing, despite the weakness in his legs, and braced himself against the table's edge.
"To Lycia." His voice was husky and tired. "Altea will send only half her knights." He bowed his head, gathering more strength to his words. "In my stead, Navahl will lead them." While Sheeda had concocted his temporary illness, Marth and his bodyguard had discussed it. For the plan to succeed, it could only be Navahl.
"My king, I will-" Marth cut his commander's protest off with strained and grateful smile.
"Jeigan, Altea's security will always be the priority. In the state I am in, I will be unable to protect her as she requires. You must be here if Dolua takes advantage." The gruff older man indulgently returned the boy's smile and quietly acquiesced. The two of them had always shared an equal love of country and Marth had known the commander's answer before he gave it.
The sickly king took a deep breath to summon energy. "How quickly can you have the knights ready to march?"
"Two days. A day and a half if I push 'em." Marth saw Jeigan's plans for preparation surfacing behind his eyes.
"Don't. Their journey is long and their fight a struggle." Navahl came forward to offer support to the king's failing body. "Two days." The ice user collapsed in his guard's waiting arms. And as the council adjourned, he caught sight of Garnef's calm and satisfied smile.