Author's Note 1: Special thanks to my guest reviewer (Lucy) on the last chapter. Your review really motivated me to finish chapter as quickly as possible (despite taking a four day break). And of course, a special thanks to windwarrior2324. He always helps me look over my stuff and listens to me complain about it.

Author's Note 2: I'm getting this chapter out a little quicker than my last one because I have nothing else to do at work. It's kind of silly that I'm getting paid to sit at my desk for 8 hours a day and write fanfiction. Living the dream, I suppose. I'm going to try to hammer out three chapters every month. I'm going to shoot for one chapter a week, but that might not happen. I've got my fingers crossed.

Fire Emblem: From Dusk Until Dawn

Chapter 3: The Death of a Star

"That's it! We gotta' leave him."

"But he's still alive. If we get across the river with-"

"Not gonna' do any good for the rest of us if we get caught."

"But what if he squeals?"

"You're right. Get rid of him."

"G-get...but wouldn't it be better to-"

"We're wastin' good time on this. Either we go now, and he gets caught, or we stay behind, and we all get hanged. Last time I checked, one is less than five. Better him than us. I'm sure he understands."

"I...maybe…" .

"You wanna do it, or do I have to get my hands dirty again?"

"Tch...I can do it…"


"You okay there?" Nolan nudged Edward to get him to sit up straight, and the swordsman responded with a feeble smile before settling back into the axeman's lap, staring at the flickering embers of what remained of their campfire. As he closed his eyes, the smile died on his lips, and he shivered despite the beads of sweat pouring down his forehead. Nolan adjusted the blankets he had wrapped around him, exposing the boy's bare chest and bandaged stomach to the autumn air in.

"Edward?" Leonardo sat on the edge of his seat, reaching out to shake his friend's shoulder. "What's wrong? If something's bothering you, don't try to keep it to yourself. This isn't the time to be stubborn."

"Just...a weird dream," he muttered without opening his eyes. He shivered signaling Nolan to reform his cocoon of blankets. "Or a memory… I dunno'...my head's doing all kinds of back flips."

After removing his woolen gloves, Nolan used the back of his hand to feel Edward's forehead. He yanked it back almost immediately. "If we threw you into the river, you might turn it into a hot spring…"

"Or it might just kill me. I think I'm fine with that at this point...I hear hell is nice this time of year."

"You heard wrong."

"We need to get him inside somewhere soon," Micaiah stated. "If he spends another couple of nights in the cold like this-"

"I could probably bribe a priest to help us," Sothe offered. "People will keep quiet for good money, and a lot of the churches around here could use the extra coin. If they have to choose between their fear of Begnion and gold-"

"Anything we can pay them, Begnion can pay more. I wouldn't trust someone based on funds alone. Fear is a lot more powerful than you might think."

"You let me worry about money. I've got us covered."

"Oh really?"

Nolan cleared his throat. "She's right. We shouldn't trust anyone based on money alone. I may know a few people who can help us, but they're not around here. We'll have to go a bit further. If we sacrifice a few hours of sleep, we might be able to get to the city before this time tomorrow. If we want to move any faster, we'll need a horse to help move him."

"You guys are talking about me like I'm already dead again," Edward murmured, rolling his face against Nolan's chest. "I'm not dead yet."

"Well, pretend you are and go back to sleep." Nolan placed a hand over the boy's head, ruffling his hair. Edward made some sort of sound of protest before inhaling deeply and falling silent again.

"You should take him into town tonight." Micaiah folded her hands into her lap, tracing the wrinkles in her tunic. "If his fever gets much worse, I won't be able to do anything about it. If I stay here, there shouldn't be any trouble."

"Separating could cause some issues." Leonardo glanced from Edward to Micaiah, shoving his hands into his pockets for warmth. "We've just now reunited for the first time in...weeks…"

"Micaiah, I'm going to be straight with you," Nolan started, his voice stern and low, "if we were to leave you now, we probably wouldn't see you ever again. That's not a paranoid old man talking. That's a man who knows how you work talking. We're not going to let you get rid of us. If we wanted to separate, we would." He cradled Edward's head against his chest. "We'll figure it out, even if we have to do something a little less than reputable."

Frowning, the light mage rummaged through her bag and selected a bruised apple from the bottom. The poor condition of the fruit's skin obscured her reflection enough to make her wonder if she still looked human to the rest of the world. She could feel her heart beating and knew that meant she was alive, a living thing, but the faceless blob before her looked more like an obstacle, a growth surviving off time borrowed from someone else. When she glanced over at Edward, he had a subtle grimace on his face yet again, his mind in a different plane of existence entirely.

"Can I use your knife, Sothe?" she asked, turning the apple over in her hands.

"Sure." He flipped one out of his belt and handed it to her handle first. "Careful. I just sharpened it."

"I'm aware that knives are usually sharp." She rolled her eyes before taking the utensil from him, tossing him the apple in the process. In one clean motion, she pulled her hair back with one hand and began to saw through it. Sothe lunged at her, wrenching the knife from her hands.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

A severed chunk of hair fell down Micaiah's back, the silver strands twinkling in the dying firelight. What remained of her hair now fell around her eyes and ears like the hood of a cloak. "Begnion is looking for a silver-haired maiden. If I no longer have silver hair or look like a maiden then they have no reason to suspect me."

"You don't have to mutilate-"

"It's just hair, Sothe. It will grow back. If I have to look a little boyish, so be it. What's the problem?"

"You're acting on impulses without thinking. It's stupid."

"Let me finish."

"...Over my dead body." He sheathed his knife in his belt.

"It's just hair," she muttered again. She ran her fingers through it little by little, pulling at stray strands. Finally, she brushed away what had fallen into her lap. "The damage is done anyway. I can't take it back."

The group sat in silence, Sothe stewing as he stoked the fire over and over again. The embers would rear up for a moment only to fall back into a cold, lightless slumber once more. Micaiah stared at him for a moment, but he refused to look up at her. Finally the flames rose up again into a paltry glow, and the shadows retreated. The log Nolan sat on creaked as he shifted under the weight of the tension. Edward snored softly against him. Leonardo's slender frame rose before the group, flicking a knife he had drawn from his boot open.

"It's your turn to get firewood," he told Sothe.

"Don't you even think about it, Leonardo." The rogue rose as well.

"How short would you like it?" .

Sothe stepped in front of him. "I already said-"

"I wasn't talking to you." In that moment, the way the embers cast the shadows of the young man caused Sothe's to shrink, and the archer seemed to be a head taller than even the trees around them. The ice in his voice forced Sothe to retreat to the warmth of the fire, but he didn't sit. "Micaiah? How short?"

"All of it."


Micaiah gazed down into the river, her reflection illuminated by what few moonbeams managed to peek through the cloudy sky. Without its length, her hair seemed to have lost its silvery shimmer entirely. Now barely an inch of it was left, faded into a dull gray like the rest of the world around her, and if it wasn't for the delicate youth of her face, she might have been inclined to think she was more of an old man than a boy. But her eyes… She shut them and opened them several times. She always thought they were the only part of her that seemed to change, but this time they were the only part that hadn't. She welcomed the familiarity with open arms, even if it was that same familiarity she feared.

"I had it handled, Micaiah," Sothe said from behind her. He tried to drape a cloak over her shoulders, but she shied away.

"You know as well as I do that I needed to do this. I stick out like a sore thumb. Edward needs to live more than I need my vanity."

"Yes, but mutilating yourself-"

"It's just hair, Sothe."

"No it's not. It's this idea that you have to be a martyr. If you give all of yourself away, there won't be anything left. You need to be careful."

"Why do we exist if not to give? I could run off on my own, have a family, and live my life. I could live to please myself, but in the end, what will I have?"

"A full heart. Lots of memories. Your life doesn't have to be nothing but empty suffering."

"I have a power that is a gift just as much as it's a burden. The goddess chose me for this because she knows I can handle it."

"You seem to think that you can counteract your suffering by giving yourself away, but it doesn't work, does it? You always hurt no matter how much you help. But you don't have to always be a victim, Micaiah. Turn the tables. Let someone else suffer."

"It's not that simple."

"It can be. If you had let me handle this situation in the first place, we wouldn't be having this conversation now."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have my resources to keep all of this under control. One more week, and we would have been fine."

"…you always say you can handle things. Always. But what is it you're actually doing? I want to think that you have good intentions and that you're doing everything in your power to do the right thing, but sometimes I just…don't know…"

"I'm not murdering people and looting their corpses if that's what you're imagining."

"Then where do you get all of your 'gold' from?"

"Jobs."

"What kind of jobs?"

Sothe leaned down on Micaiah from behind, gripping her shoulders with enough force to keep her from running. She squirmed against him, and he very quickly wrapped his arms around her, resting his head beside hers."You would just worry if I told you everything. Look… I deal with information, and information pays well. Information is what wins wars, and that's what I aim to do. You're sweet. You're an icon that people can get behind, but you don't know the first thing about fighting these kinds of battles."

"I want to believe I raised you to be better than some low-life who hurts others, but if that's what you're doing-"

"There's a place for kindness, and there's a place for action. This is why I don't talk about the kind of work I do. If you had bothered to come out of hiding for the last war, maybe you would know a thing or two about it."

"Oh…so that's what this is about then. It's not about me or you. It's about him." She tore herself away from him, spitting the final word out like a curse at Sothe's feet.

The rogue rubbed his forehead. "No. It's not. But you're probably going to make it about him because you can't just let him go."

"And neither can you."

"He was a real hero unlike us. We're no better than the raccoons that loot garbage bins at night. He stopped the last war before things could get any worse. We're making things worse. Imagine what would have happened if-"

"If what? If he had allowed Daein to continue to suffer? Things wouldn't be any different. Ashnard would have killed people. Leonard would have lost his parents. Edward would have lost his friends. Nolan would have lost his family. Innocent Daein soldiers would still be treated like prisoners or slaves. We would still be living like this even if the great general Ike hadn't come to 'save the day.' He just hastened the process and ended his own suffering."

"He got rid of Ashnard!"

"And look at this country now. People are starving. Begnion is crushing us and slaughtering others. But I'm sure Crimea is doing much better now. Probably trading resources, rebuilding what they lost, trying to move on. But we're stuck in the same awful past as before. And it's his fault, Sothe."

"Maybe if you had fought for-"

"…for what? The right side? I stayed here because my friends needed me. I didn't run away like you. "

"I was looking for something better. For you! But you chose to hide! Do you honestly think you helped anyone by disappearing?!" Sothe let his frustration simmer, to allow Micaiah some time to formulate a response, but she remained silent. "If you don't stop hiding, people like Edward will continue to throw their lives away for a useless shadow."

"Don't you dare talk about him!" she shrieked, her entire body trembling with rage. She whipped around, thrusting both of her hands against his chest. The force of her attack wasn't enough to knock him down, but it did send him back several steps. "You weren't even there to help. The rest of us watched him get hurt. We all tried to save him. We all sat next to him for days while you were off playing spy! So don't you dare criticize us! We're a family, and families are there for each other. Family is always more important than information!"

"Micaiah...y-you know I didn't mean it like-"

"No. I'm sure you didn't, but it sure sounded that way. Next time, think before you speak." She could feel him reaching after her as she hurried back towards the camp, but he hesitated, and that gave her more than enough time to escape.

Perhaps you should take your own advice, Micaiah.


"Three days, and you still haven't gotten any better…"

By now Leonardo could see that Nolan was sweating, and he certainly had a reason to do so. The rush was enough to set even his heart pounding, to remind him that he was alive and that he had a reason to live. He would do anything in his power to stretch out this moment as long as possible, to live it without any regrets or fear. He set down another card into the set he had lined up before him.

"You're losing your touch, old man."

"You're cheating," Nolan growled, reaching for another card from their pile. "I don't know how you're doing it, but you're cheating."

"I know for a fact that you're cheating, and you're still losing. As I said, you're losing your touch."

"Somehow I doubt that."

Leonardo set down another card. "That's a Jehanna sequence if I'm not mistaken, doesn't that mean that I-"

"Fine! I concede. Are you happy now?"

"Very. My pride thanks you."

"Maybe next time you'll be able to win without Edward's assistance," Sothe muttered off-handedly as he cleaned his knives with a rag.

Nolan turned around, his face clouded with rage as he glowered down at a rather nervous, bed-ridden Edward. "…you wouldn't let me play. So I invited myself," the swordsman admitted with a sheepish shrug.

For a moment, the axeman looked as though he were contemplating which circle of hell he would go to for smothering a sick boy and whether or not it would be worth it. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"I've been sleeping for four days. I've slept so much that every time I dream, I see you screaming at me to sleep because apparently I can't even dream that I'm awake. You should let me do something before I go crazy."

"Not until I know for certain that you're not going to get sick again. The infection is still clearing up," Nolan scolded. "You can last another 12 hours if you've lasted this long. I could knock you out if you think that would make this a little more bearable."

"Don't be a sore loser," Leonardo scolded. "I learned to cheat from the best. You should be proud."

"You're not supposed to cheat against me."

"But you can against me?"

Admittedly, getting into town with boyish Micaiah hadn't been difficult. No one questioned why their little group holed themselves up in the town's inn. The priest believed a not entirely untrue story about a surprise bandit attack and happily treated Edward. What soldiers they did encounter seemed to acknowledge their presence about as much as they acknowledged the rocks or trees. At last their group was invisible until they decided to cause trouble again. Their newfound invisibility gave Edward some much needed rest, and after wrestling with it for a few days, his fever had finally broken. Even so, everyone wanted to wait a full fever-free day before heading out once more.

Micaiah sat by the window. They were lucky to have gotten a room like this for as long as they had had it. It had been so long since she had slept in an actual bed that she had almost forgotten what it was like. Beautiful. There was still a lingering sense of doom in her dreams, but none of her nightmares had been as vivid as they had been in the past few weeks. She supposed she had that to be grateful for at least. But there was something just…different about this town. The people glowed with a brilliance she hadn't seen in years. The soldiers kept to themselves as well. Naturally she saw them marching through the streets at almost every opportunity, but they weren't beating old men in the streets or harassing ladies and their children.

Citizens below her gaze bustled about, minding their own business because they had nothing else to worry about. If this had been any other year, they might have thrown a festival for the decent fall harvest. But that was where Begnion's lingering presence reared its ugly head. This wasn't a safe place. It was just an illusion of safety. Soldiers still sat in the alleyways, watching their every move, waiting for them to screw up.

"If your fever stays gone until tomorrow morning, we'll leave," Nolan said. "But that should give you more motivation to rest."

"I'll go crazy before then. I might have already lost it!"

"My offer to knock you out still stands."

"Leonardo and I will go into town for some supplies," Micaiah offered, grabbing her cap off of the seat beside her. She positioned it over her head, hiding what little of her hair remained. The clothes Sothe had "found" for her could have belonged to a child. They still hung loosely on her frame however. While hiding her curves had been a bit of a challenge, she found that the oversized jacket of her ensemble was sufficient enough. She couldn't say she felt pretty, but Nolan assured her that she had enough boyish charm to turn a few heads. "And then we'll be ready to move on once you're feeling up to it."

"I'm feeling up to it now."

"Once Nolan feels you're up to it."

"Take some gold," Sothe told her as he rummaged through his bag. "I've got more than enough."

"I'm fine. Thanks."

Leonardo chuckled, trying to shield himself from Sothe's icy glare. "There's no telling where that gold came from." He unsteadily rose to his feet, picking up his bow and bag in the process.

"It's good gold. I don't know why none of you believe me. Leo, you of all people should be grateful to be staying in such a nice place after living in the gutter for so long."

The archer froze, raising an eyebrow. "If you want to take a jab at my family's wealth, you'll have to try better than that. I lived in a military academy for half my life. I haven't slept in a 'nice place' since I was a toddler. I'm grateful for a bed as much as the rest of you."

"Well, I wasn't jabbing at you, your highness. Try not to take everything so personally. Just be grateful we have a place to stay at all."

"Are you sure you want me to come?" Leonardo asked Micaiah as he edged towards the door.

"Yes. Come on. We'll make a quick trip of it." Micaiah hurried from the room without bothering to look back. Meanwhile, Leonardo looked to each of his remaining companions, and only Sothe didn't return his worried glance.

"We'll…try to be back within in an hour or so."


Leonardo had no qualms with walking in silence. In fact, he enjoyed the thought of having a concise goal with no need for frivolous excess of speech, but this wasn't a comfortable, determined silence. It was one brought on by his inability to address the underlying problem of the situation. But the blame didn't fall on him alone. No one in their little group knew exactly what to say to heal the tension between Sothe and Micaiah. Nolan usually said to give these things time; the anger would die away after a while. But Leo could tell that Micaiah hated allowing her anger to seethe. The pallor of her face wasn't just from the lack of sun.

"Why me?" he asked.

That question shook Micaiah from her own thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"Usually you want to be alone with Nolan or Sothe. I'm a rather strange choice given your history."

"You don't pry unless I ask you to. And I'm always grateful for that."

"So you wanted quiet company? You'll have to forgive me for reading the situation incorrectly."

"I don't know what I want right now." She hugged her arms even though her coat provided more than enough warmth from the crisp air. No one paid them any mind as they wandered through the streets, just two boys out on an errand.

"Well…if I may, I would like to offer a few words of advice."

Micaiah hesitated.

"I promise I won't scold you. However if you would merely like to enjoy my company, I can keep quiet."

"Go ahead. I'll listen."

"People change, for better or worse, and you can't stop that. If you care about that person, and if you trust that they care about you, then in the end, you shouldn't have to worry about the change."

"And what if they don't care about you?"

"Sothe cares about you." Leonardo offered her a smile.

"And how do you know that?"

"I try to notice people even if I'm not good at understanding them. Sothe cares about you, but he wants to prove to you that he doesn't need you. You've protected him for a long time, and now he wants to return the favor. He just has to find out how to evolve from the protected into the protector. The person he wants to be is a combination of what you've taught him and...what he observed from General Ike. I believe that has created some conflict in his character."

"I think there's more to it than that."

"Perhaps, but you'll wear yourself out searching for the whole truth."

"I still don't know where he goes when he disappears."

"Micaiah, I know I don't fully understand what's going on, and I can't possibly hope to; you've known him for much longer than I have. Sothe and I don't always get along, but I know he always has what he thinks is best for us on his heart. I trust that he's a good man, and I can work with him despite our differences. Does that help a bit?"

The light mage shook her head, pursing her lips in thought. "…thank you for trying at least. But our issues run a little deeper than we both probably realized."

"I'm sorry I can't be of more help. I like to think I know all of you like the back of my hand, but sometimes I realize I don't know you very well at all."

"I'm sure you know me pretty well. You say you notice people…why don't tell me about myself?" Distract me.

"O-Oh well…" Leonardo cleared his throat as they walked. "…you're a bit of a grey pacifist. You believe in nonviolence, but you will retaliate if the loss of life will be greater than if you don't fight. You try to keep civilians out of fights if at all possible because you believe there's no point in fighting if the lifeblood of a country disappears. Your strategies use the environment to your advantage without severely damaging it because you're used to working with small groups. While it isn't the most efficient strategy, it has worked for you in the past. With some refining it could-"

"What's my favorite color?"

"Hm?"

"My favorite color? Or my favorite food? Or my hobbies? You're such a sweet young man, Leonardo, but you're very…rigid. We're your family. Not your comrades."

"You're both," Leonardo answered quietly. They walked in uncomfortable silence for a moment before he added, "…you like orange and yellow."

"Leo…"

"And you really only like fresh foods, especially peaches, but you don't get to eat them often because they don't grow well in this half of the country. And you started dancing during the war. The performers you were traveling with taught you how, and you're actually rather good, but you don't have much of a reason to dance now, so you don't."

Micaiah grinned when she noticed her friend had turned bright red. He stared up at the clouded sky to try and hide some of his discomfort, but she saw right through him. "Why didn't you just say that to begin with?"

"I notice things, but I can't always tell you what's the most important. I really do care about people, especially all of you. I'm just not…I can't… I don't know how to express it. I wish I were better at it, but I'm not, so you'll have to forgive me for being…rigid."

"Oh, Leo…" Micaiah was tempted to take his hand and kiss his cheek, but she didn't want to risk drawing unnecessary attention towards them. "Don't you ever change."

"You can't stop me." His eyes twinkled for quite possibly the first time since she had met him, and he almost smiled, but the feeling was short-lived. He was content returning to a comfortable, determined silence, but he wasn't allowed to. He suddenly had to push Micaiah towards the side of the road to avoid a group of soldiers marching towards the town square. Citizens whispered among themselves, several choosing to follow after the ever-growing crowd.

"…something must have happened," the archer muttered.

"We should check. We may have to leave sooner than we had hoped."

"It may just be a drill."

"Well... any information is good information apparently. Come on..."

The duo followed the tail-end of a crowd, eventually weaving their way into the center of the mob to avoid detection a bit more easily. Before them, on a makeshift, wooden platform stood two Begnion guards on either side of a boy, likely a page in training. His entire body trembled as he unraveled a scroll. For a moment, he stood before the crowd, his mouth agape, the words trapped in his mouth. The guard on his left tapped his lance on the ground, causing the boy to wince. He cleared his throat and started to speak in a voice barely louder than the sound of a butterfly's wings. The guard on his right barked something indistinct, and he very quickly started over, screaming his announcement in a strained, prepubescent voice.

"On this autumn day of the sixteenth year of Apostle Sanaki's reign, let it be known that the Silver-Haired Maiden, Micaiah of Daein, was captured, charged with crimes against Daein and Begnion, and executed! A-Any information leading to the capture of her comrades will be handsomely rewarded by Jarod, Commander of the Begnion Occupational Army!"

For a moment, the crowd stopped breathing. The boy rolled up his scroll, eyes darting to the guards on either side of him as they stood as still as statues. It wasn't until the people started to talk that the soldiers chose to react.

"Move it! Nothing else to be said. If you want to see for yourself, you can head to Tyris."

Leonardo looked over to Micaiah who had grown white as a sheet. He grabbed her hand and barreled through the crowd without waiting for another invitation to leave. Unfortunately, Micaiah's energy came only in a short burst, and before long, she started lagging behind, forcing the archer to a stop. He pulled her to the side of the road once more and embraced her. Though her breathing was eerily steady, he could feel her heart pounding in her chest. "It's okay," he whispered, holding her tight despite the stares of a few bystanders. "It's not you…"

"How did they know my name?"

"I...don't know. It might have slipped in Nevassa. This could very well be a trap to lure us there."

"Or a mistake, and some poor girl is d...dead."

"This isn't something we should talk about here. Catch your breath and steel yourself, but we need to hurry back and let the others-"

"Hey! What do you boys think you're plotting over here?" A guard, not much older than both of them, had noticed their lingering and stopped not five feet from them with a small posse of soldiers behind him. He wasn't a particularly tall young man; in fact, his physique was rather unimpressive, all around, but he spoke with a clear, resonant voice that drew all eyes to him.

Micaiah almost vomited. Trembling, she tried to pull away from Leonardo, but he held her fast with one arm. Their hesitation to respond darkened the frown on the young guard's face. Like them, he wore dark circles under his black eyes, accentuated by the dark, immaculate hair that framed his face. His nails shined with the same glimmer his polished armor did. He didn't smell of the same steel and sweat of the other guards. Leonardo wasn't sure what he smelled, but it wasn't war. Maybe vanilla or honey.

"You'll have to forgive me. I tend to get carried away around precious things." Leonardo brought Micaiah's hand to his lips and kissed it without missing another beat. "We didn't mean to disturb the peace. We'll go find ourselves a room."

The young soldier's ears turned bright red as Leonardo snaked an arm around Micaiah's hips, promenading her off down the road. He flashed a huge, Edward-esque grin back at the man as they retreated. "It won't happen again!"

And they didn't run. But it took every fiber in their being not to as the laughter of the guards followed them all the way back to the inn.


Author's Note 3: I promise we're going to get to some action soon. Originally this chapter had another 2 or 3 scenes in it, and I noticed that before editing it was almost 20 pages long. I didn't want to end up having a 10,000 word chapter, so I cut it off at the most reasonable place. Now, I can give proper attention to the upcoming scenes because so far, they're some of my favorite.

Author's Note 4: If any of you would like to guess who the "mysterious chatter" belongs to in any of the chapters, that'd be cool. So far, it has been different every time. It's a theme I hope to continue until I reveal some of the peeps behind the scenes.

As always, I'm open for comments, concerns, critiques, questions...etc. I'd love to know what you think I could do better to make reading more enjoyable.