Author's note: sorry for no update yesterday, but we're finally getting into some action. On the other hand, this first attempt was written at one in the morning and might be kinda crappy. Please review.

Disclaimer: the stuff you recognize belongs to Nintendo, not me

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"Ah, optimism," Naesala muttered under his breath. "Remind me why this was a good idea."

"Because," Reyson said through gritted teeth, "war is a worse idea. Any more stupid questions?"

"No, my lord prince," Naesala muttered back. He fought to keep his wings still and flat against his back under the dark cloak he wore. Reyson wore a similar cloak of white — they didn't want the foreigners to know exactly what they were dealing with. The Ketarans had witnessed the wolves of Hatari transforming and fighting in animal form, but Soren had said that they mightn't guess right away that Naesala and Reyson were capable of the same. As long as they hid their laguz features, they had an ace up their sleeves: although it was one he would rather not have to use, it was good to remember the sheer speed at which Naesala would be able to transform and escape with Reyson.

He remembered another thing, one which almost brought a smile to his face. Leanne had not been happy to hear who had been chosen for this meeting.

"Someone else can go," she'd insisted, her hands on her slim hips.

"It's already settled, love," he had told her. "I'm the fastest. Reyson's one of the best, and Soren said that Ketar has no female politicians. So that kind of rules out any of the superb queens and diplomats we have."

She had glared at him with far more fire than any heron had the right to. "You're all idiots. No. Nothing is worth losing my husband and my brother." Her voice had trembled there.

He hated that he'd had no real comfort to give her. "We have to try," was all he'd been able to say.

"Naesala!"

Reyson hissed his name, and the raven jerked his thoughts back to the present. A delegation dressed in black armor approached their position. It was the middle of nowhere, really — some ruins between Hatari and Daein, between the two preparing armies. This wide sandstone courtyard stretched out for a square kilometer, with a few ancient, weathered pillars marking the edges. The diplomats met in the middle.

The Lord of Ketar had come with one swordsman and two archers. Naesala and Reyson appeared unarmed. The raven eyed those archers, noting the curve of the war bows and approximating at their range. It would depend on how good the men were, but at best they would probably shoot a hundred meters before losing accuracy. Not the worst odds he'd ever gone up against, Naesala thought. Still, it would have been better if there'd been only one.

The Ketaran group stopped a few paces away, and the fancily dressed one took one more step forward. "Greetings. I am Lord Ombrose, sent to speak with the representative of your lands by my Overlord, leader of Ketar and all its might and glory."

Naesala fought down a smirk. If that wasn't an ego that needed a few good knocks… but he said nothing, and let Reyson do the talking.

"I am Prince Reyson of Serenes," the heron replied, "elected by the leaders of Tellius to speak with you on behalf of our countries. Quite simply, we see no reason for a war to happen."

Lord Ombrose inclined his head. "Certainly. Then you relinquish all rights to your lands and their resources?"

Reyson's green eyes — so like his sister's, including that fire — were hard and calm. "Until recently, Ketar had no knowledge of Tellius' existence. Your country seems to have flourished without our resources. I'm sure you will continue to prosper."

"Our Overlord has decided that the road to prosperity lies through Tellius."

Reyson's eyes searched the lord's for a long, silent moment. Desert wind whipped through the courtyard. The soldiers behind the lord could not manage to stand still, as most soldiers couldn't when they felt the prickle of impending battle across their skin. Naesala cast a glance over them, wondering what might set them off. He, too, was ready for instant action or reaction, but his goal was much simpler — he only had to get Reyson out of there.

The lord swallowed, the only indication that he was the slightest bit fazed by Reyson's soul-searching scrutiny. The sweat on his brow and lip could have been the desert sun.

"You will not leave us in peace, then," Reyson said finally.

The lord gave him a shallow bow. "There need not be a fight, if you only—"

The swordman's hand twitched. Before conscious thought had finished forming, Naesala had swung free of his cloak, tossed it at the soldiers, and whirled in front of Reyson. The heron prince grabbed his shoulders even as Naesala launched himself from the ground into the sky, the transformation from man to bird sweeping over him. His wings pushed at hot air, straining and screaming for higher, faster, farther, out of reach of those damned bows, which he could hear twanging below — he jerked aside, not daring to make any evasive maneuver that could dump Reyson from his back. He heard the wicked hiss of arrows splitting the air, and flew on. The desert wind whipped behind him, giving him even more speed.

"Bring him home safe," Leanne had asked him. "I know you can bring both of you back to me safely. Please."

He'd promised, and luckily he had a lifetime of finely honed survival instincts to back that promise. Adrenaline rushed through him, keeping him going, flying nearly full speed all the way back to the fort at the border of Daein. He may have abdicated his kingship, but he was still the fastest creature in Tellius, even when he knew they were far out of the enemy's range. It would take Ombrose far longer to get back to his army, and the forces of Tellius needed every extra second of forewarning.

Finally, with a last, relieved beat of his wings, he landed in the courtyard of the fort, and Reyson dropped to the ground. Naesala's raven form slipped from him, and he leaned back against the wall, utterly exhausted. His wings ached and his lungs gasped in sharp bursts of air.

Reyson grasped his shoulder. "Are you alright?" When Naesala didn't respond right away, Reyson began to sing. It was a familiar galdrar, one that restored the strength to his shaking wings and sent new energy coursing through him.

Naesala looked up at Reyson with a wry grin. His chest stung and he glanced down. "Hm." He touched the thin line of blood across his skin curiously. A graze from one of the arrows. "Well, that could've been worse."