"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown." - H. P. Lovecraft
How calm can a person be when being told they are basically going to go into a suicidal mission? Does a person break out into a cold sweat and answer monotonously in an effort to retain dignity, or does a person answer honestly and freak out? Personally, the answer is both.
At being told I was being sent into battle, I replied with a firm, "Why?" Was there a reason why I was going to be placed in war already? I knew I was sixteen, but it still felt too early for me and although I had been training rigorously, I was still so scared. If being afraid of death was a reason for not entering battle, then I would use it to my death.
"As leader of Ylisse, it is your duty to serve your people." Was Sir Sinjin's command. This wasn't even conscription or drafting, the council was really forcing me into this. It felt so ridiculous, it didn't even feel right. Four out of five council members, people belonging to royal houses under the House of the Exalt, was forcing me, the Exalt, leader of Ylisse into war?!
My shoulders shook in frustration. "And?" I questioned. My voice was breaking. "Lady Emmeryn never participated in battle! You only believe sending me out there will benefit you, not the people! If you lot are so concerned about the Risen, then what have you participated in with the war effort?!" It was a baseless assumption, nothing of what I said was really true. All the noble houses put more than their fair share of fortune to the war effort, but never had they dared send any of their members out in the field. "You're all nothing more than cowards, hiding behind your wealth!"
Sir Edmundus slammed his armoured fist on the table, the sound of it reverberating around the room. "Impudent child! How dare you insult us! Is it not an honour to fight for your country?!" The bald man and I clearly had two very different perspectives. No one in the room understood me then? It riled me up further.
"An honour?" I scoffed. "You're basically pushing me off of a cliff!" I wasn't about to be sent out by the council. If I were to fight, I would fight by my own choice, not theirs!
"Listen here-" the head of the House of Midia stared down at me menacingly. Madame Maribelle's hand whipped out in front of his face, effectively stopping him from continuing.
"Have you no certain mind, Sir Edmundus? As mature as Lady Lucina is, she is still young! Is the purpose of the war not to protect our young?" She admonished, giving herself a larger light in my eyes. While it was arguable whether the war was to protect the youth, Madame Maribelle really singled me out. I appreciated her attempt in the least.
"Peace, my friends, peace!" Sir Badrick held his hands up in parley. "I'm certain we can come to a compromise! Lady Lucina merely needs time for thought! She is to join the fray after the fact, yes?"
Sir Badrick's ever joyful disposition had no place here whatsoever, and despite knowing that I wanted no part in battle just yet, he still insisted on my being there. Out of the corner of my eyes, I glared at him viciously. He also was one I thought I trusted. I was wrong.
"Lucina," Madame Luella commanded my name in a stern tone without formality which was used among our members. Humiliation in the lack of use of formality on my name only fueled my aggravation. "what you believe is right may not be the foremost priority of the country. Of course, given how grave this choice is for you, we may only come to a choice ourselves. So I propose this; the upcoming battle you are to participate in, you will not fight. You shall be stationed at the rear, only to observe. Those of the council in agreement of this proposition, say I,"
Again, four out of the five other council members agreed. Madame Maribelle was the only one to reject the decision, but as it was, majority won. Majority won on something that should have been my own personal affair, not public. I had no choice in this.
On my way out of the chamber, I refused to look anyone in the eye. I marched out in a huff. No one in the council had the right to be vexed aside from me. I wasn't jesting when I said they weren't contributing to battle, which I meant in a physical way, not a material way with their money. They had no people of their houses in battle, and yet they expected me, the head of my house, to go out on the field, when the House of the Exalt did essentially everything in war preparations?
If I had the proper energy, I would have released my pent up aggression in training. As it was however, I was simply fatigued enough, and the dummy didn't deserve being in pieces. Not yet, anyways. My hate was rolling around in a burning tornado of fire. I hated the council. I hated, I hated, I hated. Whether I still hate them or not today is still up for debate, but I never forgave them for that sin.
To my room I went, to lay on my bed and contemplate what I'd just been told. Maybe I'd take another look at the Roster; I hadn't had the time in a while. When I kicked my boots off and jumped on my comforter, I covered my eyes and groaned. I really let my dam burst, huh? What I thought of the council, as rich bastards who sat on their high horses and did nothing but point out flaws as if the hadn't any, I said to them. It may not have been said out loud, but the implications I sent were clearly there.
So what would that mean for me? What would change because of it? They couldn't kick me out of court, even if they voted for it and majority won. There were many things the council could do against me, but I was still Exalt. And I wondered how flawed our system of democratic monarchy was if I couldn't make a decision without them having to pass it. A few years prior, I had been able to do such a thing, but the council voted for a change, and they obviously won. I hadn't thought of it as such a big deal at first, because I hadn't fully understood my duties as Exalt and appreciated them taking some of my responsibilities if just to lessen my load, but I was suffering from the consequences now. It wasn't even a monarchy anymore. I was merely a puppet, a figure, for which they could hide behind. They were tugging at my strings mercilessly, and this puppet's strings were just about to tear.
My arm flopped from covering my eye to the side of my bed, curling around and under the frame. I decided to keep the Roster under my bed, because I had been up too many nights reading it to myself. I may have had it memorized from cover to cover, but it was a reminder of how many other survivors were out there, even if there weren't many more. Over the course of only a few years, out of twenty nine total Shepherds, we lost twenty, which meant we only had nine legendary Shepherds left. We lost over 68% of the original Shepherds, Basilio and Flavia included. If that was the casualty rate of our strongest militia, formed of our strongest soldiers and allies, then what did that say for our current army formed of conscripted and drafted civilians?
It was hopeless, I thought, flipping through the Roster's few pages to survey if anymore were withering. One; the corner of the page crumbling into a dry, black dust in my hands. Twenty four hours. Damn it, this was not good. I braved a glance at the profile picture. It couldn't be, please…. My heart dropped and I felt bile rise. I reached for the trash can near my desk, and threw up. Breakfast never looked any more pleasant going up than down.
There was a sharp rapping at my door, followed by, "Lady Lucina, may I enter?" From the voice itself, I could tell it was Madame Maribelle. Things couldn't have gotten worse than they were now.
I wasn't able to answer as I heaved loudly, nothing more left in my stomach. I was certain my heaving could be heard outside of my door, and Madame Maribelle was out there. Mortified wasn't a word strong enough to convey my feelings.
My door burst open, with a disheveled Madame Maribelle holding the doorknob tightly. She cringed seeing me hold my trash can close to my mouth. The smell itself was putrid, so I was surprised there wasn't more of a reaction. She ignored it anyway, and instead showed concern over me. "Darling, what did you do?!" She admonished, rubbing my back comfortingly.
I wasn't able to answer with how concerned she was and with how disgusted I was with myself. I coughed into the trash can a few times. I looked up to see Madame Maribelle offering me a handkerchief. I thanked her and used it to wipe my mouth, promising I would personally wash it for her. She refused kindly, saying I need not do her a favour after what the council put me through.
I slumped, fiddling with my hands. "Yeah, thanks," I replied dully. If there was one thing I wanted to avoid for a while, it was going to be work. The council and the war…. I just wanted to be a kid for a little while longer, was it that so hard to ask for?
"Madame Luella didn't tell you when the next battle would take place, and since your staff is preoccupied with the commotion going on, I thought it best if I delivered the news to you, myself." She removed her boots and put her feet up on my bed, kneeling as though there were tea cups in front of her. "The Risen have managed to push us farther, I'm sure you're aware. Which is why the next battle will be taking place in a fortnight at the Border Pass," her eyes glazed over and she looked down. There was something else she wasn't telling me. She wouldn't have looked so downtrodden if there wasn't.
"Is there something that's bothering you?" I prodded carefully, reaching out a hand in a sympathetic way, disregarding I had two weeks to prepare for battle. If she needed to let off some steam, then fine by me. She was the only one I trusted in the council anymore, and I didn't think she held much faith for the others, either.
"It's the Border Pass," she murmured softly. "I don't have very many fond memories of that place, so I can't imagine the memories you'll make there won't be any better."
"I see," I nodded, recognition flaring throughout my mind. That was one of the chapters in the game, wasn't it? Maribelle had gotten kidnapped or something. I winced mentally. She hadn't made it further than that chapter in my playthrough.
"You know, I have a son around your age," she caught my attention, "and I can't possibly imagine him walking into battle. He's a healer, not a fighter." Madame Maribelle smiled a bittersweet smile. "Which is why I find it difficult knowing someone your age is going to be marching out there, even if I was the same age as you during which I joined the fray." She looked me in the eye with her normally unnerving red/brown eyes, but they looked filled with warmness and compassion instead. She moved herself off of my bed and put her boots back on. "I know you said that none of the houses have members being out in the field of battle, but my son has been eager to do whatever he can to help, he wants to help. ….If you ever encounter him, I do hope that you discourage him…. Since you are the Exalt, he might actually listen to you…." she handed me a paper, and left my chamber in a rush, looking as though she was wiping tears from her eyes.
I looked down at the paper in my hand with a firm expression. She wanted me to stop her son from going into battle then? Taking a second glance at the paper in my hand, I decided I'd sleep on it. There was nothing else scheduled today, and it had proven stressful enough. With thoughts about both Madame Maribelle's request and the Roster, I didn't get a goodnight's sleep.
The morning after, I felt better physically. Mentally, I was drained.
Thankfully, some staff came back to work after whatever had been happening yesterday, so there was at least some semblance of functionality in the palace. Although, my day hadn't been going very well, in fact, I felt as though it was worse than the incident with the council, despite knowing it possibly couldn't be.
Training didn't fair any better either, and this time I was training with Cynthia. She noticed my distress right away. Reading each other came naturally to the both of us. Cynthia was concerned for me, and I was angry because I didn't want her to be concerned me. I tried to insist I was fine but she saw right through me.
Cynthia tried to follow me back to my room to coerce me into talking to her, she even held onto my arm, using her weight to keep me from walking on any further. I was still bitter from the day before, so I tried to push her off, but she was so persistent, it was downright infuriating.
"Just shut up!" My patience was wearing thin and Cynthia wouldn't stop bugging me. "Leave me alone!"
Cynthia's grin faded. "Not until you tell me what's wrong!" She shouted back at me. She wasn't going to give in, not anytime soon. She was much too determined for her own good. Infuriating indeed.
My scowl loosened and I sighed. She was so annoying…. "Fine," I muttered, gesturing for her to follow me back into my room. I could feel her smiling as bright as the rays of the sun behind me. Normally, this would get me in a better mood too, Cynthia being happy, but just as she was the sun, at the moment I was the moon, reflecting the sun's light off of me.
"Here, read this and tell me what you think," I said, handing her the paper Madame Maribelle gave me.
"What is it?" She asked, turning the paper every which way as though she were inspecting everything but the writing.
I looked out the window, sitting on my bed and holding my knee. "The council voted that I should participate in the next battle by the Border Pass. It takes place in two weeks. That's the paper with all the conventional information." I said with disdain, my eyes narrowing.
Cynthia's voice became quiet, like she was a kid again. "So you're going out there already?" She sounded so lost, and my heart broke. I was never given a choice, and I knew that in only a year, the council would no doubt push her out into battle too. The same might have been said for Kjelle too, since she lived with us, and the council was aware of her progress as a knight. The very thought of either of them going to war had my stomach churning. Was this the same feeling Madame Maribelle felt when she requested that I shut down her son? I didn't know him well enough to do it, but if it stopped his mother from feeling the way I did, would it be worth it?
Cynthia let out a haughty, "Hmph." A playful smirk appeared on her face as she slowly lowered the sheet. She nodded to herself, "Yup, this confirms it!" Crossing her arms, she let out a vibrant grin, holding the paper high in the air. "Looks like I have to train harder!"
My heart sank further in my chest with dawning realization. She couldn't be…. "What are you saying?" I asked, worry ever evident on my already tired face.
"You don't think I'm gonna let you be alone, do you? I have to train harder so I can join you as soon as possible!" There was a fire brewing in my chest and it was quickly turning into a wildfire. "I mean, it's not like I haven't been training for this!" She shook the paper to emphasize her point. "You're so lucky, Lucy! You get to go first, but I guess it makes sense, you are older! Jeeze, I'm actually kinda jeal-"
Suddenly, like lightning, I grabbed both of her arms to keep in her place. I was quaking. "No, you're not!" I shouted, with scorching fervorence. "You don't know what it's like out there! You think I'm lucky?" I laughed cynically. "Have you seen the mortality rates? They're sending me to my death! I don't want to be out there!"
Cynthia eyes widened, and went hard as she steeled her resolve. "So?! What does that mean for the people dying everyday?! Are you just going to give up, because you're scared?! You're supposed to be the Exalt, the role model for everybody!" She threw herself from me, backing near my door.
"And what good is a role model if they're dead?!"
"What good is a role model if they never try?!"
As we glared at each other, I fell silent, my bangs shadowing my eyes. "Yeah," I muttered in a monotonous tone. "At least you'll never have to try at all, huh?" No matter how I said it, it sounded more like a threat to my sister than reassurance for myself.
Cynthia's guard dropped, and her glare fell flat. "What?" She breathed, vulnerably.
"You're not fighting. I'm not allowing it." The darkness in my voice was more than a warning. The atmosphere in the room became tense, like a balloon about to burst at any moment.
She slipped into a defensive position. "You can't choose for me!"
"I'm your older sister and Exalt, of course I can." It was supposed to be the end of the conversation from there. I was exerting my superiority and it was final. Until Cynthia decided it wasn't.
"You can't just do that!" She cried, wet, angry tears slipping from her eyes. "You aren't Mom!" She ran, leaving me to stand there in shock. I shook it off and slammed my door, loud enough for everyone to hear. In response, down the hall I heard another door slam. I grimaced, keeping my back to my door, and slid down it to sit.
I dragged a hand down my face. I had been extremely harsh; I had been an ass. Sure, Cynthia was pushing my buttons in all the wrong places, but did I have to get so control freaky? Did we have to scream and shout? ….Did I have to try and break her spirit? I had tried to remain as emotionless as possible when I told her I wouldn't let her fight, but…. I felt something wet slip down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly. I never wanted to cry again. I wasn't weak anymore, I was never going to be weak again. "Damn it!" I screamed silently, pounding the floor beside me with my fist.
Why couldn't she understand I was trying to protect her?! It was in her better interest if she didn't fight anyway, even if she didn't know it. Did she want to die like I was going to? Was she that determined to follow me, even to my death? Why couldn't she just understand me anymore…?
I curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. Damn it all, why did everything have to be so complicated? And this was what Madame Maribelle wanted of me? To hurt her son like I hurt my younger sister? She couldn't have expected such of me, it wasn't fair, not to me or her son.
There was a knock at my door, followed by my name on the other side. It was Kjelle. Did she want to have the same conversation as well? "I'm not o-opening the d-door," I hicupped, a bitter sadness caught in my throat.
"I didn't expect you to," Kjelle said. There was the distinct clunking sound of her armour shifting, and a heavy drop with air entering from the bottom of my door frame. "We can just talk like this," she let out a heavy sigh. "Cynthia told me you don't intend to have her go out in battle,"
My voice turned hard. For what reason did I have to discuss this again? "I don't," I confirmed.
"And me?" She sounded as if she already knew my answer but needed to hear it for herself.
"No," I said curtly. If I said anymore, I would have spilled out again by getting furious, and I would have hurt Kjelle and myself more.
She sighed again. "You know how Cynthia always prattles on about being a hero?" Of course I did, she never shut up about it. "This is what she's been reaching for, a reason to fight. She's never said anything to you about it because you've always been father than us. You're always a little but out if our reach, we're never strong enough, and now that you've been chosen to go out already, you're further than ever. And you don't want it. Do you know how much that hurts her? Being a hero to her isn't about showing off like she always does, it's not about appearances, it's about being the person who does something when no one else will." I was shaking, trying to keep tears in. "You're her hero. And to see her hero be a person who doesn't do anything hurts her more than her never having the chance of being one."
Was that how it was….? I wasn't that far from them, never in anything. I never surpassed them, they were always near. We never strayed far from each other. It was only the small difference in our ages that was the deciding factor. It was never strength, gods know they would be in battle before me if that was the case. It wasn't ever about being in battle, but it was about being a hero. A hero who did something, a hero who wanted justice, a hero who was prepared to do anything to achieve it. Even if it meant death. That was a hero for Cynthia.
Slowly, I got up to open my door. Kjelle was stood up outside my room. "She told you all of this?" I asked hesitantly.
"She didn't need to," I shook as I engulfed Kjelle into a hug, crying onto her metal armour. We stood there for a few minutes, and it was a great reminder as to why I considered Kjelle a sister. She was there for us, even when her two other sibling were being troublesome and idiotic.
Kjelle always prided herself on being strong, and sometimes looked down on the weak, but she saw our insecurities, our fears, and never called us weak because of them. Actually, I liked to think she thought of us as stronger because she saw them. She knew we had them, that they were always there, and sometimes we had to hide them, and other times we had to let them all out. I hoped that when the time came for her to let her own evils out, she would allow for us to be there for her, too.
I wiped the tears from my face once more. "I honestly don't think I can face her," I blubbered, sniffing several times.
"Poppycock!" Kjelle exclaimed, exuberantly. It was so un-her, I had to laugh. The grin on her face told me she did it on purpose. "Now come, you've got someone to apologize to." She pushed me all the way to Cynthia's room.
Kjelle knocked on her door. "Cynthia," she approached with her normal brashness, "open the door." There was no answer. "I'm going to count to three, and if you don't make any sort of answer by then, I'm going to open it myself," she warned. Kjelle counted like she promised, and on three, the door flung open.
We peered into the room, but no one was in. Where was Cynthia? "Where did she go?" I muttered. Kjelle shrugged from behind me.
"She must be around here somewhere,"
As we were going to look, a member of staff, a maid, came up to us frantically. "Your Grace!" Beads of sweat ran down her forehead, and she panted heavily. "Your presence is required at the front gates, milady!"
I raised a brow, falling back into a more professional role. "What for?"
"The situation isn't clear, but two people are steadily approaching the castle!"
I nodded. "Kjelle, with me." This wasn't good, not at all.
"Who do you think these people are?" She asked. We were on our way, walking at a brisk pace, and there was only one way to find out.
"Who knows," I shrugged, "but at a time like this, it definitely isn't good." It was a call for either help, or a report back from the last battle. Either one, I dreaded.
As we reached the front gates, I noticed Cynthia with surprise and confusion. Her fists were clenched at her sides, straight as a board, and her teeth grinding together. My head whipped around to the two silhouettes who were said to be the two people approaching. There wasn't a clear view, but they didn't look dangerous. They looked hurt more than anything; one person was holding another who looked as though they were bleeding.
Recognition soon flared through both Cynthia's and my face as the silhouettes came to light, my heart beating faster, and soon dropped to my stomach.
The Roster…
Twenty four hours…
"AUNT LISSA!"
I hope you guys have had a wonderful holiday, and a very Happy New Year's! I have a New Year's resolution: to at least get two chapters of this story out per month! I don't know if I'll be able to keep to that considering this chapter came out so early because of how much free time I had, and I usually don't have as much when I get back to school, so you'll have to forgive me if I can't keep to that resolution. Also, if I do manage to get two chapters out per month, they'll probably be shorter than usual, like this one. Oh well, we'll see.
There is a very prominent emotion in this chapter: anger. This wasn't meant to be a lighthearted chapter anyway, so I hope it went alright. I think everything else is pretty self explanatory, but if you do have questions, please do ask. I'll answer them as soon as possible!
As for Lucina, don't you just hate when you get screwed over by politics?
Reviews are love and motivation!