Lo and behold, the story lives! I'm in a total writing block concerning everything from fanfics to personal writings to school essays, but I can't get these ideas for this story out of my mind, so here it goes: A Man's Revival, the continuation. If I can manage to spell "continuation", which took me around half a minute just now. Beware, though: I played Fuuin no Tsurugi most recently before Awakening was released, so my character names are outdated. I do remember Rutger Rutoga, at least, but that's from Smash. Also, Klein Klane? Really? I refuse this one.
Random fact of the day: the newly-announced Fire Emblem 3DS game is not, in fact, the second in the series.
Word count: 1,509
"Mark, are you in here?"
"Eh."
Taking the drunkard's grunt as an invitation, the blue-haired girl so closely resembling Farina lifts the tent flap and enters gracefully. Nearly overpowered by the stench of ale and body odor, she crinkles her nose and turns to the man with his head down on a small desk. "Sorry to wake you up, but Markus wanted to see you. He said there was a strategy meeting, and you should attend at least some of them. Not to be rude, I'm sure," she quickly adds, "But even I'm beginning to have doubts you really want to help us."
Mark lifts his head, squinting at the light streaming in through the flap and the shadowy girl in front of it. "I wrote the outline of the meeting, I gotta spell it out for you kids, too?"
Mark didn't really care either way; it was just one of his few moments of sober entertainment to make this little child of Ostia squirm. She was so much like her father, but with the Pegasus knight's smooth features. And such a good learner, too, mastering magic with barely a hint of mage blood. Lilina replied, "I just think you should be there. It's good for the troops' morale to see their leader out and about."
Scoffing, Mark shook his head. "They don't like me, I don't like them. Better than getting attached to a soldier."
"Why?"
"Soldiers die."
"It's your job to ensure they don't."
"Humans fail. It's in their nature."
"Then do your best."
"No one's 'best' is good enough."
"So you'll condemn to death those within your power to save?"
"I do my damned hardest, princess. But I already learned my lesson."
Lilina's eyes narrow. "What lesson? That people are scum? I almost believe it when you're nearby."
"That people die!" Mark retorts. "You meet a fighter. A princeling, maybe. A boy you've known all your life, a girl you meet pouring water down your throat after a faint. Doesn't matter. One slipup on the battlefield and boom, no more person. Then what are you left with? Guilt? Grief? Anger? A knight could understand that casualties are a part of war, and totally accept it. An impressionable little princess might break down and cry, or fall into depression and stop caring after someone close gets a sword in the gut."
"And what do you do?"
"Me? Well, I look at each and every instance of a person dying on the battlefield: and every single time, it is completely and utterly my own fault. They follow my instructions to the letter, and it kills them."
"But that's hardly your own—"
"Can you imagine, girl, looking at the brother of a man you sent through a trap? The sister of a Pegasus knight you ordered to march, forgetting about a single archer left in the trees? I feel shame, and the burning stares even after I look away, because I know they blame me. I could easily have prevented half the deaths I've caused. But you want me to be friends with people."
"Haha!" Lilina chuckles, immediately regretting it and covering her mouth.
Mark's scowl deepens. "Is something funny?"
"No, just… just interesting. You're a good person, and pretend not to be."
"Oh, now you're the analyzer?"
"That's just what I think. You've been broken before by your failures, and now you're so scared of it happening again that you simultaneously avoid getting close and work harder every moment to avoid sending people into danger."
"… All right, I'll give you that. Now get out of my tent."
"But the meeting!" Lilina protests.
"I'll be there. Just lemme get wasted again first."
It took twenty minutes before a fresh, clean Mark walked smoothly and with authority across camp and into the larger tent used for conferencing. He stepped inside, took his seat next to Roy, cleared his throat, and passed out. As soon has his forehead smacked the table he abruptly sat up straight, beginning his speech as though nothing had happened at all.
"Our negotiations with Etruria for Lycian protection have finished… Finished. …Finished? Funny word. Anway! Our negotationanans say that Etruria gets to boss us around as they please, and they're sending us off to the Western Isles to clear out a bandit problem. We leave in two days. Any questions?"
"Could this be a trap?" Sue interjects.
"Yes!" Mark stands up, pointing at her. "Perfect deduction, princess! It's a trap. …Let's follow that train of thought."
Stepping away from his seat, Mark begins the long route to walk around the conference table. "Lycia is attacked by Bern. Sacae and Ilia have already fallen –"
"We have not fallen!" the green-haired nomad girl argues, standing up and slapping her hand on the table.
"Sacae and Ilia are totally under Bern's control minus a few useless rebellions, then," Mark continues. "Etruria saves us. The entire continent is in the most chaotic state since Nergal's corrupted Black Fang. Lycia and Etruria join forces; that's just enough strength to be a major threat to Bern. Then… Lycia is sent to the opposite end of the continent to dispose of bandits. Why?" Mark sweeps his arm, asking for ideas.
"Covering their bases? We're honestly not that big of a force, so sending us to eradicate the smaller threat is strategic."
"Except there's already a decent force out there to protect the villages – unofficial, of course – leaving only the mines to the bandits, and giving them what they can get from there is appeasing them well enough."
"They think we're a nuisance, that we'll prioritize Lycia over Etrurian orders or that we'll have clouded judgment in an allied battle," Markus offers.
"Roy here is personal friends with two of Etruria's best generals. They trust him, and could easily sway the king to ally with us. Assuming they, at least, are on our side, what force is strong enough to make the king disregard us and send us away?"
"Bribery?"
"Blackmail would be more likely."
"A deal with Bern."
"Yes!" Mark shouts again, pointing the Roy and startling everyone seated. "A deal with the enemy!"
"The king himself would do that?"
"No," Mark answers the captain. "He's most likely been silenced. So following this thought pattern, we understand that Etruria wants to send us out of the way because they're working with Bern, who don't want anything to do with us. The only question remaining now is… What do we do?"
"We're turning around," Markus says. "We have to protect the kingdom."
"That's turning against Etruria," Roy says.
"What would you suggest, then?" Lilina snaps at him.
"Whoa, your girlfriend's getting catty, Roy," Mark taunts, and then stifles a burp with his fist. "Damn, I'm drunker than I thought. Anyway, we're not doing either of those things. We need Etruria, and there are at least three things we'll find in the Western Isles and return trip."
"We're walking right into Bern's trap?" Markus asks disapprovingly.
"Yep," Mark smiles, producing a flask from his cloak and taking a swig. "That we are."
It took a few more hours to persuade the council, but with all of Roy's authority promised to vote in favor of all of Mark's suggestions, it finally passed. The army moved for the Isles at dawn.
Stepping out of the tent before anyone else had even stood from their chairs, Mark saw a young, green-haired mage standing outside.
"Are you Mark?"
"Yeah, kid. No autographs."
The boy stared at the tactician in awe. "You're just like she always told us…"
"Oh. You someone's kid?"
"Yeah! Nino's! From the last war! Mom would always tell me and my brother Ray that she and dad were bad guys, but you saved them and made them good guys. So I've always wanted to see you."
Mark looked down at the twelve-something boy, attempting to suppress the bubbling emotions. That little teenager and the cruel assassin… He buried them himself after a chance meeting and a week on the run together. They never mentioned a child. "What… did you say your name was, kid?"
"I'm Lugh!"
"Lugh… Has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like your mother?"
"Markus called me 'Nino' once. It made me happy."
Mark smiled softly. "I can imagine. Well, you said you had a brother?"
"Ray."
"Ray… Can he use magic as well?"
"Yeah, he's probably even better than me actually. He left the orphanage before me and I haven't seen him in a long time…" Lugh looked down.
"Well, at least we know what to look for. The young kids look for a boy like you; us older folk look for a boy Nino," Mark winked. "See you later, Lugh."
Ruffling the boy's hair, Mark walked back to his tent, stumbled in after finally losing control of his inebriation, and flopped onto his mat in full tunic and boots. "
"Well…" he muttered into the pack being used as a makeshift pillow. "Make it four things to pick up on the trip."
~Monado Boy