As Mark had found himself many times on his journey with Lyndis' Legion, he awoke on a horse's back, staring into the all too bright sunlight. Squinting and groaning immediately, Mark nearly fell off before being caught by a meaty arm.
"Ah, how about that, he lives!" shouted a far, far too loud Bartre. Mark was about to curse the man out for it before he slowly began to remember the events of the prior day. He was out of Etruria, once more in the land of all his friends: Lycia. A calm breeze passed lightly through his hair, whipping it about and rustling the leaves of nearby trees. A few birds chirped a chorus about them as lazy white and puffy clouds passed in a calm blue sky. After fully waking up, Mark couldn't actually help but smile. It was actually, all things considered, a pretty nice day.
"Thanks Bartre. I wouldn't have liked to wake up to a concussion." Mark said, thanking the much larger man.
The axe wielder laughed as he casually plucked Mark up off the horse, eliciting a light yelp, and placed him in the ground in stride, claping him on the back. "Hey don't worry about it!" the man said earnestly, "Even if you did, concussions build character. I've had plenty, and look at me!" Bartre flexed his grand muscles to make his point.
Mark made a mental note to keep that lovely little fact in mind when assigning Bartre any mission that didn't involve smashing people. "Point made." He said casually. Mark stopped his thought. Whoa there. He thought. No tactics. Low profile. You haven't actually agreed to help yet, so you have no obligation. Mark nodded with this thought, yawning and stretching out an arm above his head. With that, he started taking stock of his surroundings.
First off, they actually put him on a horse this time while was a good start. The two steeds of Marcus and the other knight (Mark would need to talk to him soon) were trotting slowly alongside each other at the head of the group. One was now empty, thanks to Mark, and one had Eliwood riding on its back. Next to him, holding the reins was Marcus. The two kept a silent but comfortable procession, with Marcus clearly keeping an eye out for any ambushes of the road. The dark haired archer and the other knight were off to one side together, casually chatting away about last night's rabbit. More specifically, as Mark listened on, how it was cooked. Seemed like they both shared a passion. Bartre was, of course, right next to Mark, humming a bright melody with his axe casually hoisted on his shoulder. He had a toothy grin pasted on his face and a fire in his eyes. Mark guessed he was looking forward to the fights ahead… or he just got his first payment for his new job. One of the two. Also, as Mark listened, calling Barte's humming a melody was a bit of a stretch. Experimental music may have been more accurate.
Mark figured it would be best to talk to Eliwood first, as leader of the expedition. No promises for leading the group as a strategist. Mark said confidently in his mind. Just talking about where we are going, and if it's back towards Etruria as I suspect, then I leave. That simple. Mark thought. Immediately the thought saddened him. As much as he hated to admit it, now that he was back on the road like this, memories he cherished rapidly played in his head. Mark caught himself downright giddy with excitement until his mental slideshow stopped on a mop of purple hair against his chest. Suddenly he was ok traveling alone again. Hell, maybe he should have just gone to Ilia. …No he couldn't do that, he promised he'd take Lyn. Bern then.
"I'm glad to see you haven't changed in the last year, Mark." said a gentle voice nearby. Mark jumped slightly as he realized that, after walking over to speak to Eliwood, he got completely waylaid by his own imaginings and hadn't actually said anything.
"...Right, yes, sorry." Mark said sheepishly. Eliwood laughed. Marcus even cracked a smile as he pretended not to listen to his lord's conversation.
"Well, you've slept on it. Is it too soon to ask for an official answer?" Eliwood said, trying, but failing to hide the hope in his voice.
"No, no official answer yet." Mark grumbled, scratching the back of his head. This shouldn't be the first conversation he had today. "It would help if I knew exactly where we are? Or where we are going?"
Eliwood nodded knowingly. "Of course. Currently, we are heading for the border of Pherae and Santaruz. If I'm lucky, and if I know him well, my good friend will have sent me some backup troops for our adventure."
"Adventure, my lord? If Lord Elbert could hear…" Marcus jabbed, a light smile on his face.
Eliwood laughed. "Yes, yes, I'm sure he would forgive me. Even encourage me, I would bet, to enjoy this time in Lycia!" Eliwood's laughter slowly faded. "...I know it is a serious situation, but I would rather enjoy the journey where I can. Besides if… well if the worst has happened…" Eliwood didn't finish that sentence, but his bright smile had faded, replaced by a grim line. Mark saw in that moment how determined Eliwood was for his quest. This was likely an important event for the Lycian League, and alarm bells were immediately going off in Mark's head. Suddenly he couldn't shake the idea that, just like last time, his father wanted him here.
"...Are you all right, Mage General?" Marcus said, concerned plain in his voice.
"Marcus! Do not call him that out loud. He is in hiding. He is just Mark." Eliwood scolded, flexing his authority.
Marcus brought a hand to his brow and shook his head. "...I apologize, Mark. As a knight, rank is important to me. I will rectify this."
"...Please do." Mark said calmly. He had almost said it was alright.
"Anyway," Eliwood said, "perhaps you can come to a decision once you see the rest of our troops at the border? I'm hoping Hector could spare us about twenty-five soldiers. More would spark too much attention, and the last thing we need is more aggression between the lords and ladies of Lycia."
Mark curled an eyebrow, feeling like he should be remembering something. "Hector…?" He mumbled.
Eliwood nodded. "Yes, Hector. He is my best friend, and the younger brother of the current Marquess of Ostia."
"...Hm." Mark thought. Something was tugging at his brain, but he could not tell what. Just as he opened his mouth to ask more questions, Marcus spoke up.
"Milord." he said, gesturing through the trees to a large gate fixed between some mountains. "The border."
Eliwood nodded, eyes steeled as he gazed at the destination. "Very good. We've made excellent time getting here." Eliwood turned to Mark and smiled. "Mark, I know there is much you have to consider, so please, know I meant what I said last night. If this journey and this cause is too much of a risk, as your friend I want you to look out for yourself. No hard feelings, yes?"
Mark slowly nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Eliwood." Mark said simply. As Eliwood turned forward, Mark cursed his own indecision, and further cursed how earnestly he was realizing he wanted to help. As seemed to happen all too often, Mark was torn between what he felt like doing, and what he felt he had to do.
—-
As the group approached the gate, it became apparent that there were people waiting for them at the border. Mark could make out about twenty five burly men laughing amongst themselves at the gate. Nearly each of them were dressed in pain clothes and had axes strapped to their backs. Mark couldn't help but let his eyes dart between Bartre and the group and realize just how similar they were.
"Are those… the soldiers you were hoping for?" Mark asked cautiously. The band certainly didn't seem like the kind of group a noble would send. Eliwood had dismounted at this point and let the two cavaliers hop back onto their mounts. He scratched the back of his head next to Mark.
"Uhm… well, frankly they could be. Hector is certainly a fan of axes so if these are men he's trained with, well…" Eliwood trailed off as he squinted his eyes trying to make out detail across the grassland between them. "...but they aren't wearing Ostia's colors." Eliwood finished, unconvinced. Mark noticed about half the group suddenly jogging towards them.
"Seems they've spotted us." the knight in yellow armor said casually. Bartre rolled a shoulder and got an excited glint in his eye. The archer just looked confused, glancing between Bartre and the yellow knight's vastly different demeanors towards the approaching group.
Mark also squinted as one of the men suddenly pulled out a horn and blew it, causing most of the rest of the axe fighters behind them to start sprinting after them. The closest group slowed their advance and…
"They draw weapons against us!" Marcus shouted, commandingly. Immediately the yellow knight drew his lance and readied it, the archer doing the same and Bartre whooping in anticipation as he did some practice swings.
"To arms then!" Eliwood confirmed and drew his own weapon, a jeweled and ornate rapier that was polished to a pristine shine. "I do not know what these men want, but they are clearly not the soldiers Hector would have sent."
Mark couldn't help but feel Eliwood stated quite the obvious, but bit his tongue. Before Mark could even say anything, Eliwood turned a glance to him.
"Mark," he said calmly, "I understand what must be going through your head right now. I trust your strategic mind, and I trust your logic. If these men have to do with my father's disappearance, they likely know who you are and cannot see that you are here. Or…" Eliwood grimly added, "alternatively, they just can't leave here alive to tell anyone. Please, make your choice." Eliwood's eyes reflected the same determination Mark had seen earlier in the day. Whatever was happening with Marquess Pherae was clearly not natural. Mark thought back to the board game, the only interaction he had had with the man over a year ago…
"I…" Mark choked out as he saw an overzealous fighter get a little too close before waiting for his friends only to be immediately impaled by a calm throw from Marcus. The fight was going to start soon, painfully soon, and as Eliwood said, any evidence he was here could be his death sentence. Suddenly it was getting harder to breathe. Mark bent over slightly and felt a hand on his shoulder.
"It clearly pains you. I know I ask so much of you but… it's for my father. I am the man I am today because of him. I must help him, and I need more than luck on my side to do it. We will hide you. I beg you…" Eliwood was actually struggling to get the words out, Mark noticed. Whether it was worry for his father's status or guilt for trying to goad Mark, Mark could not tell, but the man was clearly in pain. Mark couldn't empathize with Eliwood's love for his father, but remembered grimly how his mother had been missing long enough for his father to leave the mansion without warning. Suddenly he knew how Eliwood felt.
Mark and Eliwood had not talked much on Lyn's journey of the previous year, but just from observing him Mark knew that Eliwood was a kind man. He was constantly looking over the twins, making sure they were protected where he could and entertaining them during campfires. Eliwood had joined Lyndis' Legion for the sake of helping a lone girl, no matter how much doubt Mark kept inside about the twins' origins. He would not, Mark assumed, rat him out. And yet…
"...I can't." Mark said sadly, longing in his voice.
Eliwood nodded once sagely. "...Alright. Please, find a place to hide."
"N-No, I-!" Mark shouted involuntarily. Eliwood raised an eyebrow. "...I won't fight." Mark said resolutely. "No evidence I was here just… just you guys winning a fight. No magic, no trace." Mark said seriously. Eliwood nodded deeply.
"...Then we are yours to command. Thank you Mark, truly." Eliwood raised his sword, glinting in the sunlight. Mark took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. Try as he desperately might, he couldn't stop himself. Eliwood needed help, and frankly put, Mark needed an adventure. He needed people to travel with. He couldn't do these things alone, despite Erk's insistence. Sure maybe Erk was right, Mark was capable enough to rough it in the woods somewhere, never to be seen again. However, Mark realized that he couldn't stand being alone. Even at the manor, in some twisted way he had his father.
Mark let out one final breath before opening his eyes critically to the battle at hand. The bandits, Mark had to assume, were crowded a little bit behind their fallen comrade, hesitant to move forward given Marcus' deadly aim. Taking stock of the group, Mark was most confident in the paladin's abilities. His was the sort of strength that came from endless, diligent practice. Marcus had nothing flashy or anything to prove, he would simply go through the motions. Mark was thankful to have a force to be reckoned with on this level.
Bartre was strong, but that was about it as far as Mark could see. Still, strength and bulk were certainly boons, and he had enough scars on his arms and chest that Mark actually trusted him a good deal in a fight.
The yellow knight, who Mark still couldn't believe hadn't moved his hair from his eyes, looked… capable, at least. He was clearly a rookie as he nervously pointed his lance at the bandits, trembling slightly. That said, his form was near perfect, he likely just needed experience.
The archer had an arrow at the ready, but was clearly hesitating to release. Mark had overheard her talking about shooting game earlier and assumed she was likely a good shot, but a terrible warrior. From the looks of it, she had only shot animals till now and was clearly in crisis.
Finally, Eliwood patiently held his rapier down at his side as he did his own sizing up of the enemy. Confident and poised, he looked like most nobility trained in war, where his dignity as an heir was on full display. Mark couldn't help but hate and respect it at the same time. Regardless, Eliwood's lack of nerves and what Mark remembered from the previous year put his mind at ease. He would be fine.
"...Marcus." Mark began. The knight clanged a spear against his shield in affirmation. "They're likely not an issue for you in the slightest. Go forward, take on as many as you can. Make noise."
Marcus nodded silently and broke the tension of the fight, galloping forward.
"Bartr-" Mark began before the axeman saw Marcus charge off, let out a battle roar and charged after him, clearly going to take on as many as he could himself. "...Uh huh." Mark said tiredly. He hadn't missed the "people not actually listening to what he says" part.
"Archer, what's your name again?" Mark asked sheepishly.
"R-Rebecca!" came a high pitched reply complete with voice crack.
"Right, Rebecca. Those two are going to be a huge distraction, so uhm…" Mark glanced around then pointed. "Fire from those trees over there and pick off who you can. If you're not comfortable firing at people then just stay hidden for now."
Rebecca bit her lip, "No I… I can fire at bandits, I promise! They nearly took everything from us the other day, and if it weren't for Eliwood… T-That is why I want to fight for him! I can do this!" She shouted, nerves plain on her sleeve. Mark nodded.
"Alright, then get going to those woods! You, uh…" Mark began before remembering he also didn't know this knight's name.
"...Lowen, Mark." the man, apparently Lowen, confirmed kindly.
"Right, Lowen. You seem new to this, no offense of course, so go with Rebecca and watch her flanks for her as she fires. She will need your help if they get wise to her position."
Lowen nodded and gestured for Rebecca to hop on his mount, which she promptly did and the two galloped off together.
"A mere skirmish, and you think so far ahead." Eliwood said in quiet respect. Shaking his head, he readied his weapon. "And I?" he inquired.
Mark thought for a moment. "...Join Marcus and Bartre, but please. Pace yourself. The quest ends with you, right?"
Eliwood laughed. "Oooooohhh, I bet Lyn hated hearing that last year, didn't she?"
Mark blinked before laughing as well, remembering the many times he insisted Lyn be cautious only to throw herself into melee after melee. "Oh please, Lord Eliwood, heir of Pherae I beg you: please actually follow the advice!" Mark said, mock bowing.
Eliwood chuckled and shook his head. "...My own fault for insisting you guide us, I suppose. I will be careful." he leveled his sword. "Also, do not worry. I'll make sure they won't be able to tell anyone you are here."
With that, Eliwood sprinted towards the fight, now in full swing, and engaged the enemy. As Mark surveyed the battle, resisting the urge to join himself, he couldn't help but feel excited. If he wasn't joining the fight itself, he had a very fun job. Espionage.
—-
Mark flew on an air disk, the wind whipping through his hair as he flew over the battle. As he looked down, he could see that Marcus alone had the fight well in hand as he tossed poor bandits left and right. One even had the audacity to swing at him, only for the massive battle axe to be batted away like a fly by the man's shield. Clearly the man was in a league of his own. Eliwood and Bartre were engaging smaller groups, usually two at a time. Eliwood, in contrast to Lyn's speedy and aggressive style, had planted himself firmly and was batting away blows with swift, elegant parries, waiting patiently for any openings to appear and then quickly exploiting them. In direct contrast still to both Lyn and Eliwood, Bartre was yelling and swinging like a man possessed, sending the occasional limb flying and absolutely drenched in blood. With a light smile, Mark noticed a few bandits were just lying on the ground a ways away, arrows sprouting from their necks.
Mark shifted his eyes towards the gate, where he saw other bandits clearly waiting to use the forts and walls of the border as an advantage. Mark watched as a man he assumed was the bandit's leader paced back and forth, waiting for a chance to fight the future Marquess himself. Mark brought himself a bit higher so as not to be seen and touched down behind the gate a ways. Quietly, he scurried around the back of the stone gate to get a closer, stealthy look at this group so as to better give orders when the fight reached this location. Mark peered around the back of the open gate at the bandits.
"...Watcha lookin at, Mage General?" whispered a voice behind him. Mark choked on his own spit in surprise and lost his footing, stumbling forward before a hand clamped his hood and choke slammed him back behind the stone. As he scrambled to stand, Mark looked up at a grinning, smug face from a sandy blonde he knew all too well.
"...Matthew?!" Mark said, hushed in spite of his shock. Matthew held a finger up to his lips and winked before peering around the stone himself.
"...Seven of 'em. Should be no problem for Eliwood and his crew." Matthew said confidently, before chuckling sadly. "...Though I doubt my lord will care." As if on cue, a man Mark vaguely felt he knew stepped out of the woods with a person on either side.
To the man's left was a knight in heavy orange armor, two javelins strapped to his back and a lance in his hands. Through his helmet Mark could make out sharp, but jovial eyes. The man looked as capable as Marcus at a glance, and Mark couldn't help but wonder if orange armor was some sort of ranking system for skilled knights in the Lycian League.
To the man's right was Serra, of all people. She was absent mindedly twirling her hair and humming to herself before looking towards Matthew. The absent minded smile on her face slowly turned to dumbfounded shock as she saw Mark, her jaw hanging low where it stayed frozen. Lastly…
The man in the middle wore polished, but worn blue plate armor. He had swept back hair and a massive, ornate axe in one hand. As he walked out of the bushes and saw Mark, a dark grin washed over his face.
"Well well well…" The man said quietly, but jabbingly. "If it isn't the runaway Mage General 'Robin' himself."
Mark cocked a head in confusion. How could this man get the Mage General part right and not his name? "Do I… know you?" Mark probed. Looking at the man was knocking a memory loose, but he just couldn't remember what.
The man started to laugh boisterously before immediately being jabbed in the ribs by the orange knight next to him. Grimacing, but silent, the man rubbed his ribs while grinning at Mark. "Oho, surely you remember your good friend 'Lex' from the bar!" the man said.
It hit Mark like a lightning bolt as his eyes went wide. "...Hector!" Mark said, finally putting the pieces together.
"Good to see you Mark." Hector said. "Maybe this time we can have a proper conversation! I assume you're helping Eliwood?"
"B-But how did you- why are you-" Mark stumbled, trying to express his confusion at Hector's positive attitude now versus when they met each other in the bar a year ago, before a hand clamped over his mouth. Matthew shook his head sadly.
"Do you people not understand what stealth is?" he said tiredly. "We're not that far away, any noise could-"
Matthew was cut off by a shrill, loud, ear piercing squeal as Serra jumped excitedly in place. A few birds flew off from the trees near them as Hector and the knight beside him jumped from the sound before slowly turning towards the now moving bandits. "Ohmygosh, Mark! It's really you! Oh you made it back safely thank St. Elimine! You know, I was telling them there's no way you would ever lose hope and that we'd see you again someday but do they ever listen to what Serra says? No, they-"
"Lady Serra!" the knight finally shouted, cutting her off. Serra pouted as she twirled her holy staff like a common baton and grumbled to herself, looking away. The knight sighed. "...I believe we are the only ones who haven't met. I'm-" the knight's head jerked to the side as he deftly threw a javelin from his back into a man Mark couldn't see from his angle behind the stone wall, but could certainly hear as he screamed in agonizing pain. The knight cleared his throat and tried again.
"...I'm Oswin." he said, grinning in his voice.
"...H-Hey." Mark said, overwhelmed at this point.
"Well." Hector said plainly, rolling his shoulder as Bartre had earlier. "It sounds like we get a slice of the fight as well, doesn't it?" Hector was grinning from ear to ear. "Looks like the stealth didn't work out, huh Matthew? Maybe we should've just fought from the start eh?" He jabbed at the spy.
Matthew sighed as he took out a dagger and threw it into a bandit's shoulder, making him drop his weapon. "You took Serra, despite all the council stating otherwise from your loyal retainers. I was on to you from the start. You just wanted to fight."
"I resent that!" Serra said haughtily and pointed her staff aggressively at Matthew. "You don't get healing in this fight!" she puffed.
Matthew rolled his eyes. "Oh no, please, Lady Serra, how will I live against the run of the mill bandits?"
Mark's head was spinning as his brain finally began putting all the pieces of what was happening together. Hector had never sent soldiers, the noble had apparently elected to send himself. Matthew must be a spy for Ostia specifically, considering how he kept referring to Hector as his lord. Oswin and Serra were probably just backup, but at least Oswin already seemed strong and Serra… well, personality aside she was a good healer certainly.
Mark was quickly brought back into reality as Matthew yanked him back before jumping in front to engage a bandit that had made it around the gate. "I remember you being a bit keener, Mark!" Matthew grunted as he let his opponent take a big swing before deftly using the weight of it to trip the bandit and stab him on the ground. "What happened buddy, you coulda taken out all these guys with a snap by now!"
Hector bellowed as he ran past the two men and decked a bandit across the jaw with a gauntleted blow before grabbing the stunned man by the shoulders and slamming his face down onto his knee. "With just a snap, eh?" Hector said, turning back with a wild grin. "Ooooooooho I knew I wanted to duel you back in that bar! We better trade blows before we save Elbert!" Another bandit saw that Hector was distracted and ran towards him, axe drawn only to be immediately knocked back by the force of Oswin's second javelin. Hector laughed after the initial shock of the spear traveling past his face and pulled out his battle axe. "Alright, alright, enough messing around, I hear you Oswin." Hector got a sudden, serious glint in his eye as he eyed the rest of the enemy and rolled his neck. "Oswin, with me. Matthew, take Serra somewhere safe. Mark-" Hector's eyes remained intense as he struck a winning grin and glared right into Mark, "since you're just standing around I assume you're sitting this one out. Do what you will!"
With that, Mark watched as Hector, surprisingly swift for his build, plowed directly into the group and started singing. Mark was immediately reminded of Bartre as Hector boisterously shouted and hacked away with reckless abandon.
…Actually, as Mark watched closer, Hector was surprisingly shrewd. As Mark caught glimpses of the man's face in the melee, Hector actually had a calm and calculating look on his face, carefully observing and blocking strikes before retaliating on his own. While it was certainly true that Hector relied heavily on his immense strength to get his attacks through more than finesse like Eliwood or Lyn, to say he was reckless would be a disservice to his combat prowess. As he watched, Mark couldn't help but be in awe. Somewhere beneath that bravado and heavy, overbearing combat style, Hector still held the same dignity as Eliwood. It was subdued, almost like he was ignoring it, but it was there.
Mark casually watched, enraptured as Hector and Oswin made quick work of the remaining bandits. Panting heavily as he dislodged his axe from the final bandit's gut, Hector brushed some blood from his chin with the back of his wrist and spun his axe in the air once or twice, cleaning it of its slick blood before letting it rest on his shoulder. He pointed towards Eliwood's group, which had finished fighting and was excitedly running towards the gate at the sight of Hector. Matthew soon reappeared with an actively complaining Serra, who was being dragged along by her wrist as she listed off all the reasons Matthew shouldn't have agreed to take her out of the fight.
Mark couldn't take his eyes off Hector, who was still facing away from him and staring at the sky. Without turning around, he addressed Mark. "...I don't know why you chose not to fight today, but if you think…" he turned his head. Hector was no longer smiling. "If you think that I will let you travel with us to save Eliwood's father without using the strength you clearly have, you're wrong. He needs everything he can get. I'm sure he was polite to you, didn't wanna scare you off and hey, listen, I get it. I'm not the biggest fan of being in a position of power myself. But if I need to drag the fighting spirit out of you, I'll do it. And hey, if it means your dad comes by to come grab you again, well." Hector scoffed before putting his axe back along his back. He smiled kindly at Mark, a joyful smirk in his sharp eyes. "I have always wanted to fight someone like the Mage General."
A/N:
Man, I love Hector.
Hello! Took a little longer than I meant but here we are again. See, told you it wouldn't be a whole year! Nothing too much to say other than I hope you guys enjoy!
AndthatImightstartanotherficbutifIdoIswearitwonttakeawayfromthisoneokhopeyouenjoyed.