Prologue 2) Loyal Mercenary

Diana POV

When Altea fell, everyone's hopes withered on the vine. Most held onto the shriveled husk tightly and turned their attention to the royal family of Archanea, the holy country. The largest and most prosperous of all, supported by its five marches. But now, it was truly in a hopeless situation. Medy, the Shadow Dragon, is determined to see the castle fall and with Altea overrun, he devotes his full might to the task.

I am not being paid enough for this.

Castle Archanea was lovely. It was filled with luxurious rugs and paintings, perfectly kept statues and suits of armor, and other things that screamed 'I am very rich'. Everyone ate well, even under these conditions.

The whole thing pissed me off. All of these luxuries were undeniable proof how poor of a king Archanea had. Honestly, the bastard hadn't even offered token reinforcements to Altea, and didn't commit his force until it was beyond too late.

"Why do we remain?" I grumbled, glaring at Charles. Though I held no real rank among the Wolf Pack mercenaries, I still got away with being insubordinate to him, even though he was the captain. After all, he and I were siblings in everything but blood. "I know Astram called in a favor, but even he wouldn't be so stupid and hotheaded as to assume you stay."

"We're under contract," he reminded me with a little shrug. He leaned back in his chair, casually sipping his wine. "Besides, you like Astram."

"I don't like him enough to die for these morons who brought this on themselves." I kept my voice quiet. I wasn't stupid enough as to let any of the knights or nobles over hear me. Assuming they'd be anywhere near the guest rooms we mercenaries were set up in. "Isn't it justice that his pretty little world falls apart around him? There's a slave market not a day away that's an open secret… he refused to send aid to any to asked…"

"Is it justice that his servants must suffer because he was a stupid king?" He smiled as I scowled. "Besides, Princess Nyna seems infinitely more competent."

"Infinity times zero is still zero." My scowl deepened. "She's a ninny and a spoilt brat, with a head full of bad romances."

"Her people love her."

"People adore a pretty little figurehead." The real power of the place lied with the marches. "But we're off topic. If we stay, we shall die." Our of the five marches, Duke Lang of Adria and Duke Bent of Samsooth betrayed Archanea, Duke Charon of Deil and Duke Noah of Menedy were dead, and Duke Cartas of Lefcandith was under siege by the traitors and couldn't send aid. I'd heard Deil's heir, Midia, and Menedy's heir, Jeorge, were knights here at the palace, and they refused to leave.

"I already told the rest of the Pack that they can leave if they wish." He gave me a look. "You weren't an exception to that rule."

"You know very well that I won't leave you." How could I? When I was broken and starving, he had been the one to extend his hand and give me another home.

"I told you, a thousand times, you owe me nothing." He sighed and stood up, coming over to give me a hug. "You've saved my life too, for one. For two, you're my sister. You never owe me anything."

"Why will you not just explain why you refuse to leave?"

"I'm the leader of the Wolf Pack. I keep my word." He pulled away and ruffled my hair. "Honestly, I would prefer it if you left." He sighed when I scowled again. "Damn it, why are you so stubborn?"

"Kettle, meet pot." Biting back a growl, I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. "So, this is where we die?"

"Well, we might get luck." He patted my back. "But, don't throw your life away. If I die, live for me."

"I shall promise that only if you promise the same."

"Fair enough." He pulled away and held out his pinky with a cheeky grin. "Come on. Just like we used to."

"As always, you're a child." Still, I hooked my pinky around his. "Cross my heart, hope to die."

"Stick a needle in my eye." He laughed as we stepped apart. "Come on. Share a glass. It's a nice vintage."

"Well, I suppose facing our impending doom would be better if I'm tipsy." I collapsed into one of the chairs in the room and held out my hand. "Actually, just give me the bottle."

"No way. I'm not risking you getting drunk again, missy." Charles returned to his chair and topped off the glass before passing it to me. "Here. That's all you're getting, miss 'I can barely take two sips without getting drunk'."

"Meanie."

I had always thought a 'river of blood' was just a dramatic invention of the bards, meant to evoke horror and terror. But it seemed like if you killed enough people, you really did get a river of blood, streaming down the back hallway. An outsider might've been horrified, but someone who watched the people die? I was just glad it wasn't me and fought hard to keep it that way.

"There is no way we were being paid enough for this," I growled, kicking a corpse out of my way as I moved to the center of the room, back to back with Charles. "Of course, I doubt we're being paid at all, especially now."

"I know; I suck at contract negotiations," Charles immediately joked. I knew that was more because humor kept us from passing out. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alive." That was better than the rest of the group that had been here. "What was the objective again?"

"Hold the room as long as possible to buy time for evacuations. Astram is in charge of those."

"Who's with him? Midia?"

"No, she's with Princess Nyna. I think they carried her off a different way." Oh, were they going to take her through a special secret exit that they wouldn't show the others because they were snobs? "Jeorge was with him, last I saw. I'm sure they'll hold for a long while.

"If you say so." I glowered at our enemies, noting their armor. "We're fighting Grustians."

"Not just Grustians." He laughed bitterly. "See the fancy armor? This is the Sable Order."

"Well, if a couple of tired mercenaries can hold them off in a large space like this, they clearly don't live up to their reputation."

"Well, to be fair, I'm sure we're facing the rank and file."

"I suppose that's true." I grimaced as one charged. "I have a lancer."

"And I've an axe-er. Switch on three."

Neither of us actually counted, of course. We knew each other too well to need something like that. In perfect sync, we twisted. He easily skewered the approaching lancer, since they hadn't had their guard up yet, and I used his back as a stepping stone to get up high and slam my sword into the axe user's skull, splintering it into pieces.

Then I spun again, switching to being back-to-back with Charles again. We kept ourselves in front of the only 'exit' of the room. The soldiers were determined to get through, but we wouldn't let them. We would make them earn the right to kill us, and make it through.

"Fire!" For a split second, I wondered if they'd brought mages, because they were tired of getting close and risking their lives. But then I realized that wasn't the case. It was arrows. Arrows rained down, and we did our best to dodge while still staying in front of the door.

I got hit in the shoulder. Charles wasn't as lucky. One arrow managed to slip under his breastplate to catch him in the heart.

We both ducked down, and I flinched at his wheezing. He wasn't going to last long. I wasn't going to last long. But we had our objective: hold the room. So, I glanced around the room, looking for anything that could help. Then, I looked up.

"The candelabra is lit," I whispered. It was up there, with all its candles flickering. That was a lot of fire, and even though there was a lot of blood, there were even more flammable things. "It's the kind that lowers." The chain and rope that held it was just on the far wall.

"Go," he gasped. He grit his teeth as he set his stance. "I'll buy you time." He gave me a smile. "Love you. I'm glad we met."

"I am too, and I love you too." I turned away, and utilized the blood to slide to the other side. Gasps made me glance back and I saw Charles had ripped the arrow out. It would give him less time, but the shock the soldiers had left them easy pickings.

As I reached the far wall, I saw Charles was fighting against another lance user, a man with gold hair and wearing even fancier armor than the rest. Between the look and the skill, I figured out who Charles's final opponent was: Camus the Sable, the brilliant general of Grust, leader of the Sable Order. A fitting end for Charles.

I found the chain and rope and struggled to untie it. Cheers and gasps made me glance back, and I saw Charles was flagging, barely able to hold up his spear. He had bought me all the time he could. So, I stepped back, settled into a stance, and whirled, spinning to add more force to my blow. The gamble paid off as the rope and chain snapped and the candelabra fell with a quiet creak, and then a giant crack.

Soldiers screamed. Blood splattered. But the room went up within the blink of an eye. Through the crackling flames, I heard Charles laugh. I knew he was proud of me.

But now, though, I had to do what I could to keep my promise to him. He was dead, so I had to live for him. Assuming I survived this, of course. But the first step to that was to run.

I ducked through the smoke, jumped over burning bodies, and made it to the hallway. There, I ran as fast as I could, desperate to get some distance. Unfortunately, the river of blood made the going hard. I slipped and stumbled, crashing into the wall. I bit back a whimper as I accidentally snapped the arrow, worsening my injury. Outside of a fight, exhaustion was eager to sink its claws into me, and every little scratch and scrape screeched in pain, demanding to be felt. I tried to keep going, though. I couldn't get caught. If I was caught, I'd…

"There you are." The calm voice had a distinct Grustian accent, so I knew who it was before I even turned around to confirm it. Camus. "You certainly gave us the runaround," he murmured, inclining his head slightly. Between that and his tone, I gathered he was actually impressed. "But you can't fight in your condition."

"Sadly, you're right," I replied. There was no point in lying, especially since he could kill me in twenty different ways before I could blink. "Well, I'm caught. So…" I sighed, and shifted, bringing my sword up to the side of my neck. I wasn't exactly fond of the idea of dying, but at least I'd give myself a quick one.

"Hold on a moment." He made as if to reach for me, but he checked the motion. "Will you not surrender?"

"I know what happens to captured female mercenaries." I smiled wryly. "I've no intention of suffering that sort of trauma."

"If you surrender to me, then I can give you protection." He sounded serious enough.

I still gave him a skeptical look. "So, I become 'your' woman?"

"No, that is not what I meant." His eyes narrowed slightly and a distinct bit of sarcasm drifted into his tone. "Please take no offense, as I'm sure you're quite fetching when you're not covered with enough blood to fill a tub, but I am not attracted to you at all."

"You're not all that attractive either with the soot marring your face and turning your hair grey." Seriously, he looked almost like an old man.

"Funny how the bards never mention that part of fighting." He shook his head, soot falling off of him. Now that I looked, I saw he actually had some minor burns. He hadn't been that close to the center. Had he tried to save his men before coming after me? "Regardless, as I said, I can give you protection. If you surrender to Grust, then no one else can intervene. You have my word, for whatever that is worth to you."

"Oh?" I still was skeptical, but I sighed, bringing the sword back down to my side. "Well, Charles did make me promise to live for him if he died. I guess you're my best option in keeping that promise." I debated shrugging, but opted to simply roll my eyes. "What sort of girl doesn't trust the man who fought her brother until he died?"

"To be fair, he charged me, and he got quite a few good hits himself." He gestured to his leg for emphasis, and I noticed a dark stain on the black. "There are others; that one just reopened as I tried to chase you."

"Good, I'm glad he went out fighting." I wished he didn't 'go out' at all. But I always expected to lose him, and I'd known today would be that day the moment he refused to leave. It hurt, but I had to focus on the now. If I was going to keep my promise to him, then I had to…

"He was skilled. I'm sorry I couldn't fight him at full strength." He hesitated before continuing. "Would you like me to apologize for his death?"

"It's war. If we got hung up on who killed who, then we'd never sleep." I shook my head. "We're mercenaries; we were always doomed to die on the battlefield. It hurts, but that's not your fault. You followed your orders, and we followed ours."

"You are a very wise young woman, almost too much so." He held out his hand, and, after a moment, I took it for the offered handshake. "Come, let's get your injuries tended to. I imagine you'll want that arrow out of your shoulder."

"Oh, no, I was thinking of keeping it in until it became a fashion statement. Beauty is pain, after all." I cracked a smile as he let a chuckle escape. "Well, what do you know? You have a sense of humor."

"Impossible. Knights don't have that." He smiled back, just slightly. "Regardless, even if you like the pain, I don't. Please, follow me, so that I may get my injuries treated."

"Lead on, protector."

"You'll have to take it easy with the shoulder, but you should be able to fight as usual once it's healed." The soldier tending to me smiled, and I smiled back, mostly so that I didn't have to talk. I couldn't even remember his name. Belf? Virgil? Both rung a bell.

It didn't really matter. He left to tend to some other wounded, leaving me alone. It amazed me how easily the Sable Order tolerated me. They didn't accept me, and they didn't trust me. That much was obvious, and I didn't blame them. It wasn't as if I trusted them.

But they trusted Camus, and I was choosing to believe Camus wouldn't give me to the Dolhr soldiers to use as a toy. That was, apparently, enough.

"How are your injuries?" Camus walked over, and I noticed the slight limp he had. The wound Charles inflicted was deep; it was likely he'd always have a weakness there. "Are you well?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "I know shoulder injuries can be…"

"You have skilled healers," I told him. His slight smile told me he was proud of them. Honestly, he seemed proud of all his men. "I have to take it easy, but I should make a full recovery." I pointed to his leg. "What about you?"

"Well, if I hadn't reopened it, I might've made a full recovery." He shrugged, not bothered. "It won't effect my riding, though, and that is how I do most of my fighting."

"Lucky for you, then." I looked over the gathered soldiers, noticing there were only Grustians here. Had all of this been due to Grust alone? Had Camus and his Sable Order defeated Archanea without help from the rest of Dolhr's force?

"I must admit; I expected tears or anger by now." Camus looked almost worried. "Your brother is dead. The battle is over, and no one here would judge…"

I smiled ruefully and shook my head. "I'm a mercenary. This is something I've been prepared for." Though, truthfully, the pain was so much that I was absolutely numb. That made it easier to pretend things were fine. "Besides, we both knew we'd die if we stayed. I'm sure I'll be angry before long, though."

"If you need a target…"

"I don't know if that is you being kind or you feeling guilty and wishing someone else would blame you too." I ignored his wince "But, as I said, I'm not mad at you. You followed the orders of your king, just as we followed our own orders. I imagine I'll be pissed at Medy or the king of this junk."

"…Medy?" His expression blanked. "Do you mean Medeus?"

"I mean the overgrown lizard with a fetish for death, darkness, and despair that brought the war on us in the first place." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "So, he's the one who brought the war, and the king of this place was the one incompetent enough to do too little, too late. They seem better targets of my anger than a knight who doesn't feel like biting the one who pulls his leash."

"Should I bark to make you feel better?"

"As amusing as it would be, no, I'd rather you didn't." Still, I cracked a smile. He was easy to talk to. "You should've been a mercenary. You've the sense of humor."

"As I told you before, I am a knight. Knights do not have any sense of humor." He might have said more, but soldier jogged up then. They saluted and whispered something to Camus, too quiet for me to hear. Whatever it was, it made Camus sigh before he nodded and gestured for the soldier to leave.

"What happened?" I asked as the soldier disappeared. Camus didn't answer. "Bad?"

"It depends," he answered slowly. He glanced down at me. "Princess Nyna has been found. I am under orders to capture her."

"Capture?" That startled me. "Medy doesn't want her dead?"

"No, it was argued that she would serve as a martyr if she died now, especially since Prince Marth was confirmed to have escaped." He sounded almost relieved about that. "However, she's not allowed to have an Archanean bodyguard."

Oh, I got it now. "You're using a loophole."

"Yes." He was honest, at least. "You're a mercenary. To them, you wouldn't count."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm not a native of these parts."

"Really?" His eyes went to my hair, as gold as his, and I saw the question in his eyes. But, to his credit, he didn't even hint to asking it. "That will help, then. I imagine she'd be gladder to have you as a guard as opposed to one of mine. After all, we're involved in the death of her father."

"And this is why you chased after me."

"It's not the only reason." His smile was guilty. "But it was one, yes."

"It's fine." Honestly, it made me feel a bit better. It was hard to believe in simply someone's kindness, but if there was a selfish motive among the kindness? That was infinitely more believable. "So, you want me to come with you?"

"Please." He offered a hand to help me up, and I took it after hesitating a moment. He might be more believable, but I wasn't sure how much I actually trusted him. Still, he let go as soon as I was standing and steady. "This way, they aren't far."

They really weren't. Whose bright idea was it to run this way with Princess Nyna? They had run further into the palace, and into a section that was easy to surround. It might be different if there were a secret exit, but if they were caught, there clearly wasn't. Now wasn't the time to be secretive, after all. Their princess was in danger.

Soldiers saluted as we passed, giving me curious looks, but giving Camus their utmost respect. I'd seen such things before, but never from knights. It was the look of someone who had truly earned respect. It was almost a shame that Camus was technically part of the enemy. If he'd been the one defending Archanea, I doubted Dolhr would've gotten this far.

We stopped at a door, and Camus knocked on it. I wondered why it wasn't locked, but then saw that the door was actually damaged. It couldn't lock; the knock was just him being polite.

"Listen well, Archaneans," Camus said authoritatively. "I am Camus the Sable, captain of the Grustian knights, leader of the Sable Order. I respect your prowess in battle, but further bloodshed is of no value to you or I." He gestured to the soldiers, urging them back. "May I request that you lower your weapons? I wish to speak to you, and carry no weapons on my person. I swear, upon the honor of Grust, I will not deceive you."

There was no answer, so Camus glanced at me. I saw the silent suggestion and stepped back, giving him a bit of space just in case he had to defend himself unarmed. Only then did he open the door.

"Die!" As expected, as soon as the door opened, someone flew out, dagger in hand. But they weren't used to ambushing, especially with knives, so Camus easily knocked them to the side. "Ugh…" As they collapsed, I saw their face and knew who it was instantly. Midia. I supposed Astram tried to teach her a few tricks. Emphasis on 'tried'.

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. If she'd done that to anyone but Camus, I had little doubts they'd all be dead. As it was, the gathered soldiers were ready to strike them down, and it was only Camus's silent command that kept them back. What idiots. Who went around shouting 'die' anyway? She might've done better if she'd been quiet. Maybe.

"I see Archanea's paladins are fond of dishonorable tactics," Camus noted dryly. I bit back a snicker. "To ambush an unarmed foe…" He brought up his empty hands for emphasis. "Not only is the army so disappointing, but even the knights have no pride? No wonder the kingdom fell." I could get to like him.

"As if you're one to talk of pride!" Midia spat. Her eyes blazed with hatred and fury. "Your country betrayed Archanea and degraded itself as Dolhr's slave! You're nothing but the captain of Dolhr's dogs!" She tossed her knife to the side and stared at him defiantly. "Well, enough of this. Go ahead! Kill me! You don't need to hold back!"

"I have no intention of killing you." Camus sighed, looking as if he was fighting off a headache. "You should watch where you toss weapons. Your princess has an idea in her head now." I almost asked what he meant, but the small scuffle in the room soon made it clear. Princess Nyna had tried to use the knife to kill herself to avoid capture. "Not only the knight, but the princess as well. Are all Archaneans this irresponsible? In Grust, this kind of behavior is reserved for spoilt children."

"Any reason why you're being harsher to her than you were me?" I asked as a bishop struggled to take the knife from Princess Nyna. "You were rather understanding before."

"I'm gambling," he whispered. He continued to look impassive. "I didn't need to gamble with you."

"But what is your wager?" If you were gambling, you had to make a bet. I didn't see what it was. Unfortunately, he was interrupted before he could answer me.

"Insolent cur!" Princess Nyna snapped. The knife was out of her hands, but she still held herself proud, despite sitting on the ground. "On what grounds are you calling me irresponsible? And what do you mean by spoilt?!"

"You're not helping the impression," Camus pointed out. Her only response was to glare. "You are a member of royalty. Now that your king has passed, you must shoulder responsibility of Archanea. Wishing to throw your life away without considering the consequences… please, spare me such selfishness. What would become of the people you would leave behind? Do you truly intend to throw away your responsibilities?"

"How dare you lecture me!" Her voice cracked. "You killed Midia's parents! Y-you drove my father to his death! You are in no position to-!"

"Forgive me for what I am about to say, but your father was a failure of a king." The words were blunt, no-nonsense, and certain. He might as well have been saying that the sky was blue. "He drowned in pleasure, neglected politics, ignored his allies, and abandoned his people. He is the one who drove your people to the abyss of despair, and he is the reason why Archanea ultimately fell." He paused, to see if Princess Nyna would say something, but continued when she remained silent. "He may have been a good father to you, but he was an incompetent king. My words are harsh, but they are the truth."

"…I thought so." She bowed her head. "I told father many times that we did not need so much, but he never listened. He insisted on living as we did." She shook her head then, almost violently, and glared up at him. "However, as you said. Archanea has fallen. What, then, do you suggest I do, in your oh-so-infinite wisdom?"

"At the least, Medeus does not yet want you dead, Princess." Camus's demeanor softened slightly. "So, you must continue to live on, to your fullest, and bring hope to your people. I've heard your people love you. They will look to you as they struggle to recover."

"I suppose I must." Princess Nyna sighed, glancing solemnly at the others in her group. Now that I looked, I saw it was not only Midia and that bishop, but two armored knights and an archer. I wondered briefly who they were before deciding that I didn't need to know. "And what of you? Are you my jailer?"

"I have been named the commander of the occupation army here, yes." Camus knelt, then, to look Princess Nyna in the eye. "I am no politician, but watching this desolate land brings me pain. I would like to help it recover, as best as it can. Might I ask for your assistance in this, Princess Nyna? Will you rebuild Archanea, together with your people?"

"…Very well. I shall give you the benefit of the doubt." Her eyes narrowed. "But do not think that my hatred simply disappears because you can speak nicely."

"If you wish to take my life, then you may have it at anytime, if that is what it takes to satisfy you."

"Killing you won't bring anyone back, so no, I think I shall simply suffer your company for now." A regal fierceness came into her eyes, and I was almost spellbound by it. Where had that come from? "However, one day, I shall gather the league's army and fight Dolhr. Should you stand in my way when that happens, I will give no mercy."

"Understood." Camus smiled suddenly. "I had thought your people adored you for your beauty, but it seems there's more to it than that."

"You speak rather impolitely, but I shall take the praise graciously."

"Ah, please excuse my rudeness." He laughed softly. "As a soldier from the borderlands, I can only manage this rustic manner of speaking."

"It's fine. I, too, must get stronger." Princess Nyna sighed. "I somehow doubt Midia will be allowed to guard me."

"You are correct." Camus stood, perfectly ignoring Midia's squawk of protest. "However, you need not fear. You will not have to suffer one of my men as your guard." He gestured to me, and I waved awkwardly as all eyes turned to me. Midia, in particularly, look startled. "She was captured earlier, and is quite skilled, killing many of my men."

"If that is the case, then she's perfect." Princess Nyna stood as well, and came over to me. She frowned for a moment before her eyes widened. "Wait, you're of the Wolf Pack, aren't you? The captain's sister?"

"I am, Princess Nyna," I replied. I kept my expression impassive and studied her. That fierceness had disappeared. She looked as she ever did, if a little more disheveled. But how she had reacted… now that caught my attention. I wondered if that was Camus's wager. It made me curious. "And, for now, I am your bodyguard."

"Thank you very much," Princess Nyna murmured. She smiled sheepishly. "I am afraid, though, that I do not remember your name. I'm sorry. I can be horrible with names sometimes."

"It's fine." It wasn't like the two of us had really met before. "I'm sure Midia barely knows my name either, and we've actually interacted a bit thanks to Astram." I finally let myself smile. "You may call me 'Diana', Princess Nyna. I look forward to working with you."

Records on Diana

· A 17-year-old mercenary who has served with the Wolf Pack for five years.

· Has an unusually high resistance to magic for a fighter, leading to speculation that she might have originally been a magic user prior to joining the Wolf Pack.

· Favors swords because they let her adapt quickly to changes

· A runaway noble who was found by Charles when she was close to dying. It's unknown where she's from or why she ran, but her coloring suggests she's Grustian.

Author's note: And here is our other prologue, and our other POV char, Diana. She's a mercenary who was hired by Archanea prior to its fall. This chapter is based off of the first 'episode' of the BS: Fire Emblem 'game'. The game consist of four episodes, each set prior to the beginning of the main game (or, in the case of Shadow Dragon, between the normal mode prologue and chapter 1). They were later remade for FE12, though they could only be unlocked after you completed the prologue there, iirc. In fact, Camus and Nyna's conversation is taken directly from there.

Since we have our second POV char, a point I'd like to emphasize. Since there are two POV chars, there will be two 'storylines' for the first few chapters, until Kris and Diana actually group up (or, rather, until Marth joins Nyna during the main game).

Next Chapter – Interlude, Exile