Chapter 8: Friends and Foes
Oscar followed Soren's advice perfectly. As the squinty-eyed knight began to flee from Melior, an enraged Kieran chased after him with about twenty of Crimea's swiftest riders. Kieran's cheeks were flushed bright red, quite a match with his red armor. Geoffrey sighed. Kieran had always been so irritable, and it was truly annoying to deal with him when he was angry. The General reared his horse and pursued Kieran.
"Just a minute, stalwart warrior. Would thou mind if I came with thee?" Bastian asked in his typical eccentric and pseudo-poetic language. Geoffrey gave him a glare: "Very well, Bastian. But, I beg of you, stop trying to look like a poet. You merely make a fool of yourself." Bastian gasped: "Good sir, I am offended! Thou art not a gentlemen if thou utters such words!"
Geoffrey rolled his eyes: "No matter, just get on."
The unfortunate Geoffrey had to deal with Bastian's gibberish as the best of the Crimean calvary riders chased after the irate Kieran.
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Soren smirked when Oscar arrived shortly after Gallian reinforcements organized themselves into their respective posts. Kieran, hot on Oscar's tail, began to realize that he was deep in Gallian territory. The red knight spotted Soren, and was not sure how to proceed.
Knowing that Kieran wouldn't dare hurt him, Soren stepped forward and waited. Sure enough, Geoffrey and Bastian came into view.
"I thank thee for thy help, good sir." Bastian nodded at Geoffrey.
"Yes... There is no need to think me..." Geoffrey looked like he was about to puke.
Soren stepped towards Bastian: "Duke of Felirae, I am the Master Tactician of the Greil Mercenaries. I believe we've met."
"Ah, Soren, long time no see! How art thou doing?"
"Quite well. I see that you haven't changed a bit. Now, I have lured you here so that I can finally speak to you in person. The nation of Gallia is torn in civil war, and as I am Ike's strategist and he is currently assisting His Majesty Caineghis, I would like to have all the help I can get... I really regret asking this, but is Crimea willing to assist us?"
"There is nothing that Crimea will not do for Gallia. The Gallian army is quite fortunate to have you by their side, Master Soren. Consider us your loyal allies. General Geoffrey, I've made a political alliance between us. Are you willing to provide the muscle for that alliance?" Bastian turned to look at Geoffrey.
Geoffrey smiled at Ike: "It's good to see you again, Ike. Yes, the Crimean Royal Army shall hereby assist its Gallian counterpart in this endeavor. Master Soren, as Bastian isn't really a military mastermind, I leave my soldiers in your care."
"Thank you, General." Soren nodded.
"Bastian, I will have to return to Melior to report this to her majesty. The soldiers I have brought here are hardly sufficient to help destroy the rebels, but they should be able to repel two legions at least. I ask that you stay here and assist Ike and his comrades. I will ask my sister to aid you as well." Geoffrey nodded.
"Very well, then. It's an honor to plot with you, Soren." Bastian smirked.
Geoffrey rode off into the distance alone, and the Gallian and Crimean armies began to plan their next moves.
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The Gallian rebels mumbled incoherently outside a small border post connecting Begnion to Gallia. They were not pleased at seeing their leader converse with humans, but it seemed that this human was willing to accept their sovereignty and assist the revolution, so they were willing to tolerate him.
"Senator Valtome, I regret to inform you that my brothers were unable to destroy those zealous loyalists. I assure you that your support for our cause was not in vain: we've made them horrified at the extent of our strength. Your assistance has done wonders for my brothers, and for that I must thank you."
"Get to the point, Tonerk." The slender brown haired man stroked his curly locks. "Is my investment worthwhile, or not? I could spend my money on many other fabulous things, you know."
"Your investment is more than worthwhile. They might have won the capital, but soon enough we'll decimate them completely. I merely ask for some of your personal assistance."
"And why would I want that?"
"Isn't that what you've been planning this entire time, to allow my brethren to purify Gallia and ensure that we will not block Begnion's plan to conquer Crimea? I am not blind, Senator, I know what you've been planning with Senator Lekain. I can easily smell your plot. But, that's not the issue here. With your personal assistance, the small Crimean army that has come to aid the royalists will be annihilated." (1.)
"You're rather bright for a s-laguz. No wonder why Lekain thought that you were a perfect ally. Very well, Tonerk. I will send you a third of my personal guard and a fourth of my personal legion of Pegasus Knights. Will that do?"
"That would fit perfectly with our plans. Thank you, Senator."
"Show me some results, Tonerk, and you can be certain that I'll be a fine ally."
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"Masters Soren and Bastian, the Lady Lucia has arrived." A Crimean soldier announced.
Soren and Bastian, in the middle of planning, rolled their eyes. These soldiers, stiff with their sense of following orders to the last exclamation point, would not let them have their peace. Thinking required tranquility and quiet, which was nonexistent when one happens to be the master strategist of the army. "Very well, let her in." They both groaned.
Letting her in was one of the best times of Soren's life.
She entered the door, radiant blue hair flowing down the sides of her face. Her white jacket seemed rather fitting for her, as it matched her skin tone. Her creamy flesh glowed with an almost holy aura as she stepped into the room. As Soren looked at Lucia, he began to wonder why he had never tried to actively speak with the girl before. Of course, as allies, they did talk to each other, but those talks were strictly of battle tactics, as both were tacticians... Except for one particular day:
Soren and Lucia are sitting at a small table in the courtyard of Crimea Castle. Ashnard had finally been defeated and the warriors of Crimea were celebrating their victory. Though she was a little annoyed at the fact that Geoffrey hadn't called off the celebration yet, she believed that this was a time for Crimeans to be merry. After all, they had won back their country.
The servant set up a small tea tray on the table, and both strategists picked up their respective tea cups and began to drink.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" She blurted absentmindedly, her eyes looking at the large garden before them. Only days ago, that garden had been covered with blood, but after the bodies were buried and after Rhys gave them his prayers, the garden began to return to its former vibrancy.
"Yes..." Soren murmured, draining his cup with another quick gulp.
She eyed him curiously, wondering why he'd down his cup so readily. Soren met her gaze with a mild, bitter amusement. It was a little rude based on the strict manners of the royal court, but why should he care? He was a commoner, a brilliant one, but still a commoner.
Yet why was she so focused on him? He was but one of the Sages who traveled in the Crimean Army, and she easily had many other potential sages to lay her eyes on. There was the chipper Tormod, and the handsome Bastian. Ilyana was an adorable female Sage and Calill's elegance was still quite intact. Yet she was staring at him.
"Lady Lucia, is there something on my face?" Soren asked. She could tell by his voice that he was getting irritated, and scoffed at the fact that he was so irritable.
"It's nothing..." She spoke, turning her eyes away from him. "I was merely thinking and happened to be staring at you. I've seen you do the same thing."
He could tell that she was irritated now, but why? Why did she seem to care about him, her, of all people? He remembered that he had helped her in a fight once, blasting two enemy Generals with a well-placed Elthunder, but he was just being a comrade. That was his job, wasn't it? She confused him, and Soren hated mysteries that involved people.
Lucia looked away from Soren, but in her heart she was thinking about the mage. He was quite skilled for his apparent age, yet Lucia sensed that things were not what they seemed. Many of his thought processes and tactics seemed far more mature than what would be assumed by his appearance, after all, he looked fifteen. Soren was brave and loyal to Ike, very much like how she was loyal to Elincia, and would willingly die for her milk sister, the girl who truly was her sister in every way but blood.
She knew that Soren thought highly of her, which is why he would try to convince her to stay out of the lesser fights and enter the main fray. When Ike asked for his veterans, his champions to stand by him in the final fight against Ashnard, Soren chose her in that list of heroes, as her speed would easily allow her to outmaneuver her opponents and tear them apart with the cold steel of her blade. (2.)
What made him so moody? What made him so angry? She could not understand what would have hurt him so greatly. She spent the last twenty years of her life as a noblewoman, a girl who lived in the palace, with a life of luxury and riches. People obeyed her requests and treated her like something more important than they themselves were. But Soren, Soren acted as though he couldn't trust anyone... He went through a hard life, that mage, yet, for some reason, the two of them had their lives intertwined, and together they went through this grueling hardship, this dire challenge, and emerged from it victorious. Life works funny that way.
"Soren..." She suddenly spoke, startling herself with that bluntness.
"Yes?" He turned to her, raising an eyebrow.
"It... It was nice knowing you..." She smiled, feeling rather awkward talking to him like this.
Soren looked at her intently for a few seconds, then gave her a smirk and replied: "Likewise..."
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But now two years had passed. Lucia was growing into a slender and beautiful young woman, with many suitors relentlessly pursuing her, including, of course, Bastian. Soren looked away from her, rather embarrassed. He thought of Ilyana, the young mage who was captured along with Mist. Ilyana had been flirting with him lately and he happened to be flattered by it. Yet no matter how Ilyana humored him, Lucia simply seemed superior.
Lucia smiled: "Master Bastian, it's good to see you, as always. Master Soren, it's been a while."
"Indeed... Thy fair beauty far outshines the sun!" Bastian squeaked. Lucia rolled her eyes. She tried to be polite with him, but Bastian was simply so irritating that he could easily test her patience.
"Lady Lucia, it's an honor to see you again... With you here, victory is so much more probable." Soren felt so awkward. He had little experience in dealing with people, after all, he'd spent most of his life distrusting them. Now he found it difficult to talk to Lucia.
She kept her smile: "You flatter me, Soren. But still, we can't just throw compliments around. We do have a job, right? Let's put down this rebellion and save Gallia."
"Right." Soren nodded, sweat pouring down the back of his neck. He felt so embarrassed and he had no idea why.
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"Ike." Zihark looked intently at the commander. The two men were standing before each other in Ike's command tent.
"What is it, Zihark?" Ike asked, interest in his eyes. Ike had a normally serious nature, but among close friends, he would show a much more casual side.
"This is for you." Zihark drew a bluish blade from a brown sheath. The blade had an isosceles triangle carved on the bottom, and it seemed much lighter than Ragnell when Ike held it in his hands and twirled it around. "The blade is known as 'Ettard,' a weapon forged by Tyson, the same man who crafted Urvan and the Wishblade." "Thank you, Zihark..." Ike gasped, letting his finger run across the flat portion of the sword.
"Don't thank me. Tyson is an old friend of General Tauroneo." Zihark smiled. "Tauroneo, he's still alive? That's a relief... It's been quite a few months since I last spoke to my uncle." Ike mumbled, thrusting Ettard forward to test its efficiency.
"The General thought that you needed a lighter blade to help with most missions. Ragnell is powerful, but its heavy. Ettard is more focused on stabbing and striking, rather than splitting the opponent in half like Ragnell, that makes it a different blade to use, but one that will be more practical against most foes, besides Generals, Wyvern Riders, or mounted Knights, of course." Zihark nodded.
"Well, thank you anyway, Zihark, for helping him deliver it. But I won't be able to go anywhere until this mission is done. We have a lot of work to do, and I need people like you to help me finish it!" Ike raised Ettard and cheered.
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Their planning took all night, and after a few hours, Bastian decided to call it quits. Lucia wanted to continue making another backup strategy with Soren regarding the storming of the rebel capital, but Soren told her that, since she just arrived, it would be a good idea for her to get some rest. She smiled at his generosity and agreed, allowing herself to retreat to the guest quarters. The raven haired mage continued to scrutinize his tactical notes, trying to think like the enemy, when Ilyana suddenly walked in on him.
"Soren, you're becoming an insomniac. Shouldn't you be getting some sleep?" She smiled sweetly. Soren turned and looked at her. "But our comrades need my plans for success... I can't afford to..." Ilyana stroked his cheek: "But, silly, you shouldn't tire yourself to death, right? You're our most important tactician..."
Soren shook his head. Ilyana had been annoying him for far too long. He couldn't understand her. Why would she have such a great interest in him? He wasn't really much smarter than her. After all, she was the one who taught him Thoron, as Calill was annoyed by his sternness and thus unwilling to tutor him more than the basics in Thunder magic.
"I'll be fine..." He spoke abruptly, startling her. "Ike needs these plans to be clear-cut by noon tomorrow, and I have no intention of failing him. Thank you, Ilyana, but I'll sleep later. Good night."
Ilyana let out an irritated huff as she turned and walked out the door.
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1. This fic is not intended to tie in with Radiant Dawn. It is a fic that is meant to have a different chain of events, like Folly of Man, only that this is the improved version... Or will be...
2. I don't really use Lucia that much, but I've noted that she's proven rather useful in the Trial Maps. Maybe it's luck, I don't know, but she does seem like an awesome character! And, well, heck, if Mia's speed is better, so what? I never liked Mia much anyway... (Don't shoot me, people...)
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