Author's Note 1: Glad to see the story has 4 followers now! That's very exciting for me. Thanks, guys!
Author's Note 2: Yeesh...editing this chapter was like pulling teeth, and I don't even know what it was about it. I think it has something to do with "this was kind of a creative/funny plan two months ago," and now I regretted all of my life choices. I spent about a week trying to organize it and ended up removing about 3000 words worth of material. This is also the chapter that I lost during the challenge (because of some corrupted files) and had to rewrite from scratch. (I did a 5,000 word marathon one Saturday to play catch-up.) But I finally sat down and told myself to finish it. So it's a late update, but it's here at last!
Fire Emblem: From Dusk Until Dawn
Chapter 4: The Dawn Brigade
No one returning from Tyris smiled.
Groups of merchants, performers, mercenaries, and farmers alike passed Micaiah's group throughout the morning of the next day, all with their eyes downcast and voices low, muttering in grey, unintelligible drones. Edward had tried in vain to converse with his comrades, but even his energy couldn't overpower the dread poisoning the atmosphere. If anything, it sickened him the most.
Sothe lead the group, his pace unhurried but deliberate. Conscientious of Edward's still recovering state, he stopped several times along the side of the road to rest while the others fidgeted with anticipation of the next few miles. More deadened eyes. More soundless voices. More grey skies. Sothe built a wall between himself and travelers and a bigger one between himself and his allies, keeping his eyes set on the town's walls now in full view from a distance.
"We're almost there," Edward muttered. "We don't need to stop again. At this rate, we'll all die of old age before I die of exhaustion."
"If there's going to be a battle, you need to be ready. You're probably out of practice after being sick for so long." Sothe glanced down at the growing shadow of a tree beside them. The leaves ebbed and flowed with the breeze, some breaking free of the limbs and fluttering to the ground where many of them already lay in a slain heap. "It's better if we don't rush into this."
"He's right." Leonardo squinted, trying to note how many guards stood at the entrance. They had passed a few groups coming and going on their journey there. Apparently Tyris was the hub for most of the soldiers in this area. They rotated in the surrounding villages and towns. Unfortunately, that meant they couldn't linger much longer and risk becoming "familiar faces." "However, the sooner we finish this, the better."
"We'll go when Micaiah's ready."
The light mage blinked, looking over towards the rogue. By now, beads of sweat had started to form on his forehead even though goosebumps lined his arms. He noticed her gaze before too long and crouched down, untying and then retying his boots. "You're the one that wanted to come here. It's your call," he muttered.
"I'm ready," she answered.
But she wasn't. She had never really known how to prepare herself for death, her own or anyone else's. And somehow, this was both. She expected death to be a surprise. Someday, she would die, and that would be the end. It could be an accident, natural or planned. It could be at her own hand, someone else's, or the goddesses. She merely knew it was inevitable...as it was for everyone. She found it easier to think about the end of her own life rather than anyone else's, especially her friends. In the end, she wouldn't need to deal with the after effects of her own death.
But the goddess seemed to think it would be interesting if she had to.
They didn't have to walk through the front gates to see her, the fake Micaiah. And they smelled her long before they saw her. The town square was devoid of people with the exception of two guards and the corpse. She didn't look much like Micaiah, the real one. She stood taller even hunched over, contorted and rigid, and had curves that filled out the modest dress she wore. No one could mistake her for a boy. Her eyes were blue like her skin and still wide with shock, probably from the tightened noose still stuck around her neck. But her silver hair was unmistakable, cascading down her shoulders like starlight.
"She's just a kid…" Edward swallowed.
Nolan clapped a hand over Micaiah's eyes and led them past the guards and display, keeping his eyes down. "We need to go to a tavern," he told them, whispering in the same grey drone that had infected the travelers on the way to Tyris. "And then we need to leave. We shouldn't be here long."
Sloppy laughter filled the area followed by the ending to a poorly improvised drinking song. Two guards appeared at the end of the road, one clinging to the other for support. The one that could walk without assistance didn't even crack a smile.
"You're making a fool of yourself," he spat.
Micaiah stiffened underneath Nolan's touch."Leo, it's him."
"Come on, Cap. Come on! We've only got an hour left before our shift! You should enjoy the city while you can!" The young guard somehow regained enough of his balance to stand up straight and began dragging his friend through the square, ramming into herds of people mulling about, trying to avoid the display at all costs. His friend followed behind stiffly, his brow set in a heavy frown.
"Ravi, I mean it. I don't have any interest in your debauchery."
"You've been such a bummer ever since you got that promotion, ya' know that?."
It was at that moment that Leonardo understood what Micaiah had said. He very quickly tried to turn and hide his face, but he had already made eye contact with both of the soldiers, and he hadn't torn his gaze away from the sober man nearly quickly enough. The more vibrant of the two steered his friend towards their little group, stopping just inches away from the archer. "Well if it isn't your mischievous little friend, Ollie." When he leaned down, Leonardo could smell the fermentation on his breath. "What have you been up to?"
The archer swallowed, forcing a nervous smile onto his face as he looked from one man to the next. The captain looked much taller up close, but there was no mistaking it. He had the same dark hair, dark eyes, tired gaze… "St-staying out of trouble… Eheheh…" Leo held up both of his hands and shoved them into his pockets. "Keeping them to myself. See?"
"You been touching things you shouldn't again?" Edward scolded without missing a beat. "You know what Nolan's told you about that." He looped an arm around his friend's neck, mirroring the soldier duo before them. "Just ignore him, kind Sir. He's a little touched in the head."
"I can think of a few things the Cap would let him touch. And no one would have to know," Ravi started, taking Leo's face into his hands, examining him like a fine cut of meat from the butcher. "Whaddya' say?"
"No touching," Nolan growled, releasing Micaiah into Sothe's care to step forward. "We don't have any business with you, so I'd appreciate it if you stopped fondling my boy."
"Of course." The captain removed his friend from Leo, keeping a firm grip on his hair. "He's an idiot and a drunk, and I can't seem to fix either of those things. Please forgive us."
"A-All's forgiven, Sir." Leonardo tipped his head down, mostly to hide the redness in his cheeks.
"You weren't half this bashful yesterday. Don't do so well with an audience do ya'?" Ravi winked, and the captain gave his hair a sharp tug, eliciting a cry from his lips. Now red from ear to ear, the captain chose to retreat, his friend still babbling.
"I can't believe you. You have half an hour to sober up. I mean it."
Leonardo let out a sigh of relief, but he couldn't chase away Nolan's presence from behind him. "Have you been making friends?" the axeman asked.
"Micaiah and I might have accidentally started an affair yesterday."
"Lovely...just what we need...a power couple."
Sothe stiffened, eyeing the archer through venomous, slitted eyes.
Micaiah's eyes returned to the girl in the square, trying to imagine that she merely slept. In twenty minutes or an hour, she would awaken, slip the noose from her neck, and return to her friends or family; and they wouldn't have to live in the shadow of her death or in fear of asking to give her a proper burial. But staring at her for as long as she did allowed reality to set in bit by bit. The smell. The girl's empty eyes. Unblinking. Unchanging. Still terrified. "W-We can't leave her like this," she muttered, her mouse-like voice almost carried away on the wind.
"...Micaiah," Nolan started. "It might not be-"
"We should move onto the tavern," Sothe said. "Being out here just isn't...if we stare too long, they'll think we're up to something. Besides, we shouldn't risk our lives for a body."
"You'd risk your lives for mine," Micaiah told him.
"Aren't we supposed to be staying out of trouble?"
"Please, stop. Both of you." Nolan took Micaiah by the shoulders, holding her at arm's length. For a while, his mouth hung open, his mind still searching for the words of wisdom he could usually spout out, but nothing came to him. She stared back at him with silence, even her clouded orange eyes somehow brighter than the world around them.
"I...might have an idea…" Leonardo finally said, breaking the silence.
"I definitely have an idea," Edward piped in, still dragging Leonardo around by the shoulders. Everyone's head snapped in their direction, and the swordsman offered them a smile that wasn't quite strong enough to chase away the grey; however, Leonardo couldn't look up from his feet. "Let us handle it."
One...two...three...four...five...
Inaction was the simplest way to stay out of trouble; blend in, observe, hide, run away… Being invisible was easy as long as one didn't care enough to act or could refrain from doing so even under intense pressure. But that meant ignoring the darkening skies preparing for the inevitable storm, the literal stench of death wafting through the alleys. Turning a blind eye was easy until the events of the world started to infect the other senses. By then, one wanted and needed to act, but it was too late.
Leonardo recognized that he understood this concept, but he didn't have to appreciate it. Remaining a faceless cog in the wheels of time was beginning to look like the best way to keep his dignity intact. Don't vomit.
"I don't even know what hips he wants me to sway," he grumbled under his breath. One pint of whatever passed for an alcoholic beverage at the tavern had been enough to get him to agree to strut down the streets in the icy wind wearing what Sothe considered to be "clothing." With his arms and midriff exposed, he was beginning to wonder if the rogue actually borrowed his clothing from a prostitute. A second pint was required to give him enough confidence to follow through, and now he was beginning to wish he had had a third, but the stuff was so vile that he felt as though he could wilt a forest with the smell on his breath. Hips, Leo. Hips. Edward's voice echoed in his head.
...what hips?
He finally spied his target, standing at the edge of an alley, tapping his foot impatiently. Waiting? He wasn't particularly unattractive. He was taller than even Nolan but slender even under his bulky armor. However, despite his stature, he had a weak, worried gaze that left him pale, almost sickly looking despite his attempts to display authority. Leonardo hugged his arms, feeling the cold despite the thin veil of liquor that kept him moving forward.
"Well well...if it isn't my little buddy…" He felt a pair of powerful arms wrap around his waist from behind, holding him in place with sausage-like fingers locked around his navel. His first instinct was to try and buck the intruder off, but the alcohol helped him relax. "Come back to stare at the captain?"
Thirty-two...thirty-three...thirty-four...
Leonardo fought to wiggle around so he could face his harasser. Finally, he found himself in a position where he could slip his hands around the man's neck. Though the smell of alcohol on the soldier's breath had improved just a bit, he suspected that was because a sickeningly sweet smoke that all but drenched his clothes had masked it. You should have taken the third drink. "I can't help myself. He's charming." Worried the man might read through his facade, he buried his face in the guard's neck. The man stiffened, a breath caught in his throat, but he didn't make any effort to stop him.
"Look, Ollie!" he called across the road. "I found him again." In an attempt to be subtle, he lowered his voice just noticeably enough so the people inside the buildings surrounding them wouldn't hear him, though he seemed to think that Leo also couldn't hear him. "He's hammered."
"Stop," the man's sober friend answered, crossing the road in five large strides to pry Leo away once more. He held him at arm's length, admiring him for just a moment before sighing and draping his own cloak over the younger man's shoulders. "What do you think you're doing?"
"A little birdie told my boss that the guards here were complaining about the lack of diversity in the night life. He decided to move me to the brothel here in town. I start tomorrow, but I wanted…to do some sightseeing first." He ran a few fingers through his own hair, tousling it so it fell over one of his eyes.
"Is that so?" He watched Leo shiver again, and fastened the broach of his cloak in place so it wouldn't fall off of his shoulders.
"W-Why don't you show me some things I haven't seen?"
"Now that I'd like to see," Ravi added.
"You're going to be late. Get to your post, or I'll report you to the general."
"I'm so scared. You worried the girl's just gonna' walk away?"
The captain cursed under his breath, taking Leonardo by the shoulders. "How many drinks have you had?"
Now that wasn't a question he had expected. "How much do you charge?" or "Does that alley look dark enough?" were far more fitting options. For a moment, the archer broke character, his body stiff underneath the captain's hands. Objectify me already. "I-I…a few. I just do what the boss tells me to," he admitted, wanting to add Edward's name to a very long string of curses.
"And what about your...erm...friend?"
"He's...ah...I don't know where he's at..."
"Then go find him. You shouldn't be out here like this. I can't talk now, but if you come to the barracks in a few hours, I can help you. Until then, try to stay out of the cold. You look ridiculous."
"C'mon, Ollie...we've still got a few minutes. When's the next time you'll find a whore willing to give you the time of day, or are you still worried about going straight to the seventh circle of hell? You know the senators just make that crap up."
Seventy-seven...Seventy-eight… You're going to be late. Leonardo grabbed the captain by the breastplate and pulled him on top of him so their lips connected, just long enough to surprise him, but not long enough to draw in a crowd of voyeurs. Don't puke. "I can do anything in a few minutes." Don't. Puke. "Going back right now isn't exactly an option."
Leonardo patiently awaited the captain's response, watching his face turn a deep shade of scarlet as his body processed the kiss. He didn't get a chance to respond before Ravi grabbed a fistful of the archer's hair and pulled him back against his own chest. "If you don't I will, Ollie."
"But you're not-"
"It doesn't really matter what does the job as long as the job gets done, right? Besides, I never turn down a free sample, and it'll annoy the hell out of you won't it? Maybe you'll man up and do something about it, eh?"
Leonardo tried to pull his head away from the soldier's grasp, but the man's nails were digging into his scalp, and the archer had no strong desire to lose a clump of hair. He watched for a reaction from the captain, but he couldn't read any frustration or anger. Shock was apparent and expected, but a complete lack of any other emotion left Leo feeling numb aside from the throbbing in his scalp.
"H-Hey…" the archer said. "That kind of hurts."
"Ravi…" the captain started.
"You gonna' stop me?"
Ninety-eight...ninety-nine…
"C'mon, kid. Show me what you got."
One hundred.
"Ma'am, what's that man doing up there?" Micaiah asked. She had picked out a thin, bug-eyed girl from the crowd who had been unable to stop chatting long enough with her friends to breathe. At first, she didn't seem to hear the girl's inquiry, but she lifted her gaze enough from her group to see a cloaked shadow just visible in the evening torchlight, almost to the very top of the watch tower. She screamed, drawing the attention of every person passing in the area.
"That man's climbing the watch tower!"
"Isn't he the envoy visiting from Crimea?" Micaiah asked once more. The young woman certainly heard her, making eye contact very briefly, but rather than responding, she retreated into her group of friends and began whispering once again. By now, most people in the area had noticed the strange man. They began to whisper to each other, while guards scrambled to handle the situation.
"He must be the father of that girl…" Micaiah muttered to herself a bit too loudly as she passed by a group of boys.
"Yeah yeah...they were travelers...I remember seeing her with some guy last week. They must've been from Crimea."
"But didn't Henry say she was from Daein?"
"No no no...he's definitely that guy from Crimea. Brady told me Crimea was going to send an envoy. I remember seeing him around."
"And Martha definitely mentioned something about a daughter."
"You think that girl they executed was his daughter?"
"What's Crimea going to do if he bites the dust?
"Begnion wouldn't go around killing off nobles, would they?"
"He's going to fall!"
The cloaked figure misstepped, losing his grip for a moment before pulling himself up onto a ledge at the very top of the tower. By now, the soft lull of the townspeople's whispers had grown to cries of fright. Some encouraged him to jump. Others begged for him not to. Many were asking for soldiers not to make a mess of him. Before long, he couldn't distinguish one comment from another.
"One sixty-two...one s-sixty-three…" Tch...Edward…
Nolan took a deep breath, the cold wind particularly brutal as it battered against his body, penetrating even the thick wool gloves on his hand. Mother Nature apparently wanted him to jump, and he might just lose his grip if he lost anymore feeling in his hands.
"Begnion's going to pay for what they did!" he shouted, letting the wind carry his voice. "Every one of you know it was a mistake! They took her from me too soon!"
"He's definitely that Crimean guy. That's what Leah said."
"Wasn't he supposed to be investigating for the Queen?"
"Maybe he's with the Dawn Brigade!"
Dawn Brigade? Micaiah paused, only picking up bits and pieces of conversations as she wove through the crowd. She no longer had to feed them bits and pieces of false information. They produced it themselves like machines. But now no one could raech a consensus. Some thought he was some local drunk named Talieu. Others thought he was a diplomat driven to madness. But the Dawn Brigade wasn't a phrase she was familiar with, nor was it something she had time to investigate now. At least the soldiers couldn't seem to decide whether or not it was safe to shoot Nolan down.
"Lovely…"
Micaiah heard a voice from directly behind her, but she had felt his presence first, darker than even the moonless sky. She met his crimson gaze for only a moment before he grabbed her by the shirt and tossed her aside. "Out of my way, brat! All of you! I don't care who he is! Shoot him down! Shoot him down now! Where the hell is that captain?!"
The light mage picked herself up off of the ground, adjusting her cap while still following the man barking orders with her eyes. Information wins wars… No. Now wasn't the time for her to waste valuable energy following a man like that. Not yet. At the very least, she could try to remember his face. As dark as his eyes had been, they were almost equally as frightened, veiled in a thin, fragile mask of anger.
Two hundred one...two hundred-
...Sothe. Micaiah's heart skipped a beat. Her head throbbed, images dancing before her eyes and without thinking her feet forced her to follow the man that had knocked her over.
"-two…" One man down.
"...two hundred three…" Two men down.
"...two hundred four..." Girl down.
Sothe let the corpse fall to the ground, almost expecting a sigh of relief from it. He removed his cloak, rolled her up in it, and lifted her into his arms, the girl's body almost weightless, but he couldn't escape the rancid smell. He adjusted he scarf over his nose, but there was nothing he could do to keep his eyes from watering. His stomach lurched, and his package slid out of his arms back onto the ground.
"Tch...I'm so sorry…" Seconds continued to pass by in his head. Two behind. Ten behind...fifteen…But he couldn't force himself to move. Just leave her. Leave her and go. They'll understand. Move. You'll get caught. You'll end up like her.
It's your fault.
"I said I don't care who he is. If he's not down in the next thirty seconds, I'll climb up there and throw him off myself!"
Sothe scrambled to pick up the body once more, cursing as if it would make his hands move faster. He had lost track of time, but he knew he was behind. The others wouldn't buy him anymore than they had promised.
"Where's my captain?!"
The man's voice sounded inches and miles away at the same time as it echoed around in his head. He'll be the one to kill me. This is how I die.
"Sir, I can't find my brother."
Micaiah?
"Get off of me, you brat!" A slap. A yelp.
Micaiah. Sothe resisted the urge to dart towards the sound of her voice, but now he could at least make his feet move. The east side of town. An alley. By the tavern. The escape route seemed a bit more clear in his head now. Another yelp, and a scream...then more screams.
"He fell! Where'd he go?! Someone help! General! General Jarod!"
"But my brother…"
"I said get off of me! Find him!"
Get out. Get out. Keep going. Don't stop. The clocktower at the center of town struck eleven.
Three-hundred…three hundred one…
Very, very behind.
Nolan rolled his shoulder in a wind-up motion several times, trying to find the right amount of pressure to use to ease it back into place, but nothing seemed to work. Micaiah urged him to sit down and worked her fingers along his back, poking and prodding at his neck and shoulders until he let out a sigh of relief. "...we're still early, aren't we?" she asked.
"Yes. They still have a few minutes."
"I saw Sothe leave with her. You don't suppose someone caught him on the road, do you?"
"Micaiah, we can talk about this all night. Let's wait another ten minutes. If they're not here by then, we can go look for them. I'm getting too old to run after all of you kids or pull these crazy, acrobatic stunts. Next time, Edward can jump from the tower, and I'll supervise."
"You volunteered…"
"Don't remind me."
Micaiah wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting against the warmth of his heaving back for just a moment before standing to full height once more to glance behind her. "Someone's coming."
"Our someone or another someone?"
"Leonardo? Edward? Sothe?!" Micaiah scrambled into the woods, leaving Nolan to lumber behind her.
"Guess that answers my question."
Micaiah darted over the frozen ground, her feet finding all the right places to fall to avoid stumbling. She paused for a moment, listening to the emptiness of the forest before changing her direction, only to stop only inches away from the pale, child-like form of Edward. "Eddie, what happened?"
"I-I...can't...carry him anymore. But may-maybe Nolan can...can help…but I-"
"Who, Ed?"
"It was a bad idea, Micky...a bad...why did I-"
"Edward!" She took his face in her hands and forced his eyes to focus on her. Things seemed to click in his mind all at once, and he grabbed her arm, pulling her back from where he had come.
"Leo. He passed out about half a mile back, and I just couldn't carry him all the way here. I didn't leave him far. Where's Nolan?"
"He's coming. What about Sothe?"
"I don't know." Micaiah decided to leave it at that. She could feel Edward's trembling aggravated by the fresh surge of adrenaline running through his veins. "I left him right-hey you! Get away!" His hand fell away from hers, and he was mid-way through drawing his sword on a young woman kneeling beside his fallen comrade. The woman turned slowly, hands raised holding a staff, and met Edward's gaze. "I-I'm just a priestess," she said, her voice smooth and low.
"Then what are you doing out here so late?"
"A-A little bird… I followed a bird. Please...can I help him? I don't think he can breathe."
"Yes. Please." Micaiah placed a hand on Edward's shoulder to calm him. She watched the girl reach for her staff once more and turn to Leo. The priestess hadn't gotten a good look at him yet, but she wasn't sure she wanted to. Instead, she focused on the girl. Plain with fair skin and dark hair, she somehow radiated with a brilliance, the light mage hadn't seen in ages. "What's your name?"
"It's Laura. And...you're the Dawn Brigade...aren't you?"
Dawn Brigade. That name again.
"We...might be…"
Having wrapped up his wrist and pulled the bandage tight with his teeth, Levail flexed it in a full circle, straining his ears for any unnatural groans or creaks. The injury no longer hurt if he had to put pressure on it, but he needed to be careful. On the bright side, this whole situation had been good for improving his left-handed strength, but it left him feeling a bit flimsy with his good arm. He would have a lot of make-up work to do if he planned on getting back to his former level of skill, and that was provided he didn't hurt himself again.
He could hear the others training not too far, their shouts and applause easily echoing through the halls of the halls of Sienne's training facilities. He had heard rumors that there were places in the old palaces and even the cathedral where the architecture allowed the sound of a mouse's footsteps to carry loud and clear. He could only imagine what the grunts and cries of his comrades would sound like with such amplification. Chuckling, he reached for his lance and tested how the extra weight affected the range of motion of his injured wrist.
He should have been grateful. If he had injured himself abroad, he wouldn't have an opportunity like this to recover. The capital was supposed to be a good place to be at that moment. Daein wasn't exactly prosperous, and he had heard horror stories of how the soldiers were treated over there. He wasn't surprised; an occupying nation would be met with some hostility, but they weren't the villains in all of this. That was their dead king's fault… He supposed there was no glory for a soldier after a war, especially when things were as peaceful as they were now. Here he was with the perfect opportunity to allow himself to get fat just like the senators.
"Are you just lazing around?" .
The young soldier recognized the elegant hostility of the voice immediately and rose to his feet, standing at attention. "Forgive me, Senator Lekain. I was told by the healer that I can train only in 40 minute intervals. I'll return to the field shortly, Sir."
The Senator wasn't a particularly tall man. Many soldiers believed he wore heels under his robes to add a few inches to his stature, but his presence filled the room. There were times when he seemed even bigger than the cathedral itself; he could hold the capital in the palm of his hand like Ashera and level buildings with his thumb. When the man smiled, Levail felt his thumb hovering over his head.
"Rather than sit there like a sloth, why don't you help me with a little errand? You were rather good at those when you were a child, but now that you've grown, I can't say I've seen you around as much. Didn't you make me a promise?"
Levail swallowed, his stance still as stiff as a corpse's. "Of course. I-I apologize, Sir… I should…I can help you with whatever you need."
"That would be wonderful. It shouldn't take long. If you're quick, you can be back before you're even missed. But if I'm being perfectly honest, you should be careful with that injury. We wouldn't want you falling apart anytime soon."
"O-Of course not…S-Sir…" He didn't want to risk falling from attention because Lekain's temper wasn't uncommon knowledge among the soldiers. But the muscles in his back were beginning to cramp, and he couldn't hide the discomfort on his face.
"You haven't changed much, Levail. I like that about you."
Suddenly the young soldier felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, pressing down softly to ease him from his stance. "Senator," a deep voice laced with a honey-like sweetness greeted. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"General Zelgius…" Lekain's voice fell and with it, his stature shrunk ever so subtly. But now Levail felt as though two hands had wrapped around his throat. His heart threatened to leap from his chest as Zelgius tightened his grip on his shoulders. "I need to borrow this one for about half an hour. My staff hasn't been quite as efficient as they need to-"
"I'm afraid my soldiers aren't errand boys."
"He's not doing anything else. I don't see why he can't help me. It's not as though you own these men. They belong to the empire. And last time I checked, the senators are part of what runs the empire."
"The Apostle runs the empire," Zelgius reminded him. "And all of us serve her. You would be wise to keep that in mind." After some thought, he released his grip from Levail's shoulders."Besides, he's on an assignment for the Apostle right now. It would be foolish to pull him away from that for an errand."
"Is that so?" Even with his self-imposed height, Lekain couldn't begin to reach the heights Zelgius had climbed. The senator's age and his temper left him at a disability in polls of popularity, but money and fear could fill such gaps. However, respect and charisma were two things the general could proudly dangle before the man and snatch away at a moment's notice. "You probably just want to keep this one for yourself, Zelgius."
"You're free to ask the Apostle that yourself."
Lekain huffed, finally deflated to his normal size. "She won't always be able to protect you. You know that, right?"
"Good day, Sir. It has been a pleasure talking to you as always."
Zelgius bowed, motioned for Levail to do the same, and led him off without waiting for the senator's permission. Levail's vision was blurry. He wasn't sure if it was because the great General Zelgius had dared to defend him or if Lekain's presence had poisoned the air around them.
"Always tell him you're busy," Zelgius stated without looking down at him. "The goddess will forgive you for lying if you're not actually busy. I promise even if he goes to the Apostle to check, she will vouch for you."
"S-Sir…you don't have to defend-"
"Don't think that I'm lying for you. I fully intend to give you some work to do. You may not be working directly for the Apostle, but you will be doing her work by helping me. You're free to refuse of course. If you accept, you won't have the time to return to your training today, but you also won't have to sit around waiting for the sharks to pick you off." He stopped, pulling Levail into a small room where a pile of freshly washed tunics were waiting to be pressed and folded.
"What…kind of work?" Levail shifted uncomfortably into a corner between Zelgius and the door.
"Unfortunately, I can't tell you unless you agree to help. Rest assured that it's nothing treasonous or illegal. But it is complicated. I can promise you compensation for your troubles as well."
"Complicated…" The young soldier ran his fingers through his hair, separating the locks of blonde hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. But exciting. "If it isn't treasonous or illegal then I have nothing to fear. It would be my honor to assist you, General."
Zelgius smiled, his eyes still locked in a stony gaze. "I'm heard rumors that Lekain may promote you. If that's the case, you'll be my equal, so there's no need to be quite so uptight." He reached into a pouch by his belt and withdrew an envelope.
"Ah...I probably wouldn't accept a promotion. I'm not ready; and I certainly haven't done anything to earn it."
"Accept it."
"Sir?"
"There are a lot of things you can do from a position of power."
"And there are a lot of things you can't do. Isn't that why you're asking me for help?"
The general's smile brightened as he offered the envelop to the soldier. "Deliver this to Duke Persis. Dress as a civilian and see that you're not followed. He'll give you further instructions."
"Yes, Sir!" Levail took the envelop and saluted.
".Remember what I said about Lekain."
"What about you, Sir? Will you be all right?"
"I'll be fine. I'm just...tired."
Author's Note 3: For NaNo, because I was in the mood, I ended up writing a...semi-NSFW (for violence) scene between Leonardo and the guards. I decided to omit it for a variety of reasons: to keep my T-rating, to keep this chapter from becoming too long, to not distract from the overall story...etc. If there's interest, I may edit that bit and upload it as a "deleted scene" of sorts either here or on my deviantART account.
Author's Note 4: I didn't really want to use OCs in this, but unfortunately, a lot of the minor bosses in FE were pretty lackluster. I wanted to create some minor villains that weren't just generically evil like most minor bosses seem to be, so there may be a few soldiers that pop up here and there that are of my own devising. Sorry about that! I promise that 99.98% of these characters will come from the actual game.
As always, feel free to leave me some comments, critiques, or just general remarks. I love to know what I'm doing well and what I can improve on. I'd love to give particularly helpful comments a shout-out! Hopefully next chapter won't take me so long...
