A/N: ...I hope I still have readers... Well, to anyone who's reading this... Remember me? ...I hope so.
Well, I know I promised this chapter would be up... a long time ago, and it was actually mostly done for a while. I just couldn't find a way to finish the Bastian and Queen Diana section. But then, yesterday, I was struck with an idea. I know, it's not amazing. I'm not quite happy with it, but I'm really excited that I actually finished it! Now I can start the next chapter (which I have already written a bit).
Okay, as always, I'd like to thank my reviewers. I know it's like a ritual thing, and may not really mean much to people, but each and every one of you reviews keeps me writing (well, more like wanting to write...). But seriously, without you guys and all your support, I really wouldn't be here updating again :D Thanks to: HaveAHeart301(it feels so different to type that...but I love the new penname :D), NewPaladin, TheFreelancerSeal, and the_stranger (whose review made me laugh inside n_n).
Once again, I'm really, really, really sorry for the extremely late update, and for those of you who I'm a reader/reviewer of, I'm also really sorry that I haven't gotten around to reader/reviewing everything. But I'll get to it - albeit slowly - but I'll get to it. Now, I know you're all probably tired of hearing me apologize and stuff, so I'll just shut up and let you read xD
Chapter Six
On This Day...
This was one day that would be remembered in the years to come, a day that would be recorded down in history as a dark day over the land of Tellius. Grey clouds continued to roll in over the battlefield as rain began to pour.
One by one, more and more Crimean soldiers continued to fall in battle as the grounds had become nothing more than an ocean of black-armored soldiers. One by one, drops of water continued to fall upon the earth as the scent of rain filled the air as to bury the strong stench of blood; but through the stench may fade from the air and the crimson stains may be washed away from the paved ground and the dirt, there would still be one remaining fact, the single fact that on this day, much blood was shed. This was the day that many mothers lost a son, the day that many sisters lost a brother, the day that many children lost a father. However, it was on this day, that Tellius lost a nation.
• • • • •
She solely focused on the tiled floor beneath her feet and the clicking of her black heeled boots with every step. The one thing which her glance tried to evade were the bloodied corpses of her former companions that were laying sprawled across the floor. It had been years; she had been training and preparing for war for years – both physically and mentally; and though she was a veteran in the art of swordplay and had seen her comrades fall in battle a countless number of times, something about this war made her feel sick to her stomach.
The stench of blood was overwhelming. Over the years, she had become accustomed to that nauseating scent; today was just an exception. She longed for the air of outside, yet even still, the smell would be present too.
It was pathetic. She felt so weak. If she had tried to shape her hand into a fist, there would be no movement. Her muscles were unresponsive, and yet her feet continued running on. It wasn't strength or power that drove her, but will and will alone.
A sudden rush of light hit her. As it did, Lucia instantly snapped out of her deep thoughts and realized that she had reached the end of the hallway and had entered into the throne room of Crimea. Without thought or a second glance, her eyes settled on the man seated on the throne: King Ashnard. By reflex, she moved her hand to the hilt of her sword in defense as she bitterly grit her teeth.
Wait. What was she thinking?
Lucia breathed a calming sigh, loosening up and dropping her arms to her sides.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing...
She took slow steps toward the throne and bowed her head as she faced him. "Lord Ashnard." Her tone was stern, but as she saw him smile a menacing grin, she forced one on herself too.
"Delbray..." he began, getting her attention, "...good work."
"What?"
"I heard you slayed King Ramon, am I correct?"
She tried to show no emotion in giving her answer, but she couldn't help but bite the inside of her lip as the mumbling words came out. "...Ye-yes...'
A devilish grin came across his face. It was quite fitting, actually; a devilish grin for a man such as the devil himself. Oh, how she wished to pierce her blade through that block of ice sitting in his chest, but she knew better than that. Lucia knew very well that if she tried to accomplish that wish, she would be the one lying dead on the floor.
"Well," King Ashnard started, standing up and pacing around the room with a great sense of pride. "I am very impressed. I had never thought you'd go so far as to murder you own, former, king."
His words angered her; they made her blood boil with rage. Her hands were clenched into tight fists, so tight that her knuckles had turned white. 'Wasn't he the one who ordered me to kill him? I had no choice, if I wanted my life.' She took a deep breath to calm herself. Now was not the time for this. She relaxed her hands. Looking at them made her see that they were red with blood, and realize that her nails had dug into her flesh too deep. She silently cursed to herself as she thought, 'Why did I decide to remove my gloves...'
" It looks like you are more ruthless and unforgiving than I thought.," he continued.
"...I guess I'm picking up on your habits," she commented, hiding her hands behind her back.
He let out a deep, sinister chuckle. "Then I supposed you will have no trouble completing this next task," he replied. She rose an eyebrow in suspicion. "Well, as you may know Queen Diana and Princess Elincia are still running about nearby..."
She began to worry. This couldn't be what she thought, could it?
"...I would like you to find them..."
She could feel her stomach drop. No way... But it was far too oblivious.
"...And eliminate them."
• • • • •
She fell to the ground with a hard thud as she tripped over a large root. How she just wanted to push herself back up and continue on; how she desperately needed to. It was a struggle. Her arms and legs were still, her muscles unmoving. The sudden attack on Castle Crimea was draining everyone, both mentally and physically; it was a surprise that she had been able to go that far. But still, she wasn't yet ready to give up, especially with the castle in sight.
The princess forced herself to stand up on her feet, clinging onto one of the nearby trees and using it as a support. A couple of panting breaths escaped her, but not before long, she was down on the ground once again.
"...Goddess Ashera..." she began to mumble, her eyes becoming heavier and heavier, "...even if...you cannot save me...please...please save father, and mother...Bastian...G-Geoffrey...and L...Lu...cia..."
• • • • •
Bastian lead Queen Diana as they forcefully charged through the stable doors. "Quickly come my queen, we must find ourselves a steed so we may make our swift escape."
"Escape? I don't quite agree with that plan of yours."
The sage instantaneously turned around and defensively gripped the Elwind tome under his cloak as he heard the voice. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye to the queen had assured him that she was unharmed. "My queen, please stay close."
She turned her head and nodded to him.
"Now," he started, raising his voice so the other man in the room would be able to hear him, "who ever you are, show yourself, or be it that I tear these walls down to find you,"
They heard footsteps as the sound of a chuckle came from behind. The two immediately turned around. "Now, now Count Bastian, there is no need to be so rash. Please remember we have Queen Diana present; you wouldn't want to do anything that could possibly hurt you precious queen," he tested. "Anyhow, here I am, right in front of your very eyes. Is that enough?"
Neither spoke; they just watched the man before them. The bow in his hand swung back and forth with every dignified stride he took, the dirt crunching under his hefty booted feet. He held his head up high. There was this prideful air about him, intoxicating enough that any well man would suffocate by his arrogance.
"What is it that you want?" Count Bastian asked.
"What is it that you want..."he repeated. "Well, count, isn't it oblivious? I want both of you dead. Though I am sure King Ashnard wishes for that blue-haired swords mistress to kill you as she did King Ramon, I cannot allow her to do that. She has already taken enough of the spotlight for herself."
"...Blue-haired swords mistress...?" the queen mumbled to herself. "Which blue-haired swords mistress murdered King Ramon!?"
"Oh, you haven't heard?" he remarked in a sarcastic tone. "That girl who was in your army, the one from Delbray, traded in her Crimean crest for the one of Daein; she is fighting in our army now."
Queen Diana shot a glare his way, but the archer remained unfazed. "Don't lie to me. Lucia would never do such a thing. She would never betray her country, and she would never slay her king."
The man shrugged. "I suppose you don't know that girl as well as you think."
"But sh-" She cut herself off and took a moment to collect herself. Her words were of no use. "Count," she said, turning to him, "tell him. Tell him that that is not true."
He didn't dare meet her glance with his own; he didn't want her to see the truth through his eyes, because to him, it seemed as though she wasn't trying to prove it to that Daein man, but to herself instead.
"My queen..." he began in a low voice. "...My sincerest apologies."
"What is it?"
"I cannot lie to you, and I do not lie to you when I say I saw Lady Lucia remove her sword from the King's dead body. I do not know the motive behind her actions, if that was her true intention or if she was being threatened, but -"
"But of course it was her intent," the archer keenly remarked in interruption. "She killed him by her own will. If it was by some other means, it wouldn't have happened; I doubt she'd have the courage to kill him in cold blood like she did."
The man was pleased with the reaction he received from the queen; the distressed and confused, yet altogether angry expression she gave him made him show a devious smile as he felt the tingling anxiety of excitement within him. It were as if he was a young boy watching and waiting for his latest prank to be pulled. However, during this time, he had only set his attention on Queen Diana, and was completely oblivious to the sage by her side who was silently whispering a spell that he had appeared to have memorized.
The man was taken by surprise when the gust of wind blew in his direction, and with little to no time to react, he was blown away. He was roughly thrown at the back wall and could feel himself being pushed up against it as the buffer between the two. For a short second, he felt as though the pressure of the wind was constricting his lungs like he had been thrown down into the deep ocean.
He fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air the very moment the attack ceased. "That was a cheap shot," he remarked after regaining his composure. It surprised them a bit to hear his voice; though his expression was completely serious, his tone gave hints of frivolousness and playfulness.
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, this is a battle, and in a battle, there is no law stating that attack your opponent while he is distracted in his thoughts is illegal."
The archer said nothing as he stood up; yet though he was silent, he did not move his eyes from his two adversaries.
"I see you are beginning to become more cautions. Perhaps it is to avoid another embarrassment from being caught off guard, or what you call 'a cheap shot.' Am I wrong?"
"No, you are correct," he admitted with pride, his tone a bit more blithe than expected. "However, as an archer, I must always keep an eye on my targets. One slight miss and a catastrophe could emerge."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Yes, that is quite so."
Without them even noticing him pull out an arrow, he released his bow string, letting the arrow swiftly fly across the room. Bastian lifted his hand to his cheek at feeling the warm blood make contact with his cold skin.
The sage defensively held his arm out in front of the queen. "Please be careful Your Majesty. If he catches you off guard, he will definitely kill you." He paused for a moment, turning his view around to look her in the eye before continuing, "Remember to stand behind me at all times, and if-"
The count abruptly stopped his words and winded his eyes in surprise. All within the span of a few seconds, the queen had pushed him aside and taken the arrow in his place, leaving him helpless to do anything but watch. Time seemed as if it were moving in slow motion. It felt that he had all the time in the world to do something to save her, but by the time he reacted, it was too late.
A sudden rage filled his being. Without even thinking twice, he chanted out one of his most powerful spells, sending his opponent flying and turning the inside of the stable into a wreck. He hastily ran over to where the queen lay and kneeled beside her, inwardly cursing at himself for his stupidity, and for never taking up the staff.
"Why? Why did you take the his attack? Is it not the duty of the vassals and knights to protect the noble family? It was my duty to shield you from any and all attacks, not the other way around."
He watched her as she slowly shook her head, gesturing to him a no. "That may be so, but it is the job of the King's family to protect the country."
The sage opened his mouth with an objection, but she continued, ignoring his turn to speak. "Bastian, I want you to find Elincia and Geoffrey and protect them; and please, protect the country in my place. And if it is not too much to ask, I want you to bring Lucia back to Crimea. I heard the two of you converse in Ramon's bed chambers. I do not know the reasons behind her betrayal, and I will never find out; but promise me this: you will bring her back to Crimea; and though there will be an uproar between the nobles, do not let them execute her."
"Of course You Majesty. You have my word," he nodded, sealing his promise.
The serious look on her face turned into a small smile. "Good. Now go."
Her order caught him off guard. "No. I refuse to leave your side," he replied, almost robotically
"Bastian, your queen commands you to go."
"Ah- very well..." he replied, well knowing that he couldn't oppose her bidding, even if he wanted to. "I'm sorry Your Majesty..."
She watched him leave the mess of a stable with a grin plastered on her lips. "At least this way, I'll be with Ramon..."
• • • • •
His chest heaved up and down with each of his panting breaths. He lay back on the ground as his dirty turquoise locks clung to his face with the falling rain. He was tired and defeated, yet at the same time victorious, for around him lay the deceased bodies of the six Daein soldiers. It was a challenge–a great challenge–to defeat the all; but after much blood and sweat, it was finally done, yet a great cost to himself.
He flet something warm trickle down his cheek. 'Blood,' he thought, slowly and weakly moving his hand to his face. He took a glance at the smudge of red on his fingers. 'It's just a cut...'
It seemed as if that last thought was one of comfort to himself, as though he were relieving himself of another serious wound. An intense and stinging pain was felt throughout his bod; he had lost a great amount of blood from the gash across his chest and the open wounds scattered about his arms and legs. He knew very well that his chances of making it through this were slim; however, if Princess Elincia had escaped unharmed, this risk he had given himself would have been well worth it. But at the same time, he was not ready to go–at lest not yet.
In his thoughts, he felt that if he were to die at that moment, he would be ashamed, angry, and disappointed; ashamed that he had to leave in such a cowardice way without saying a single goodbye; angry that he hadn't been able to uncover the truth behind his sister's betrayal; and disappointed in himself, because he never had the courage to open up and say the three simple words: I love you. However, as the general of the Crimean Royal Knights, he was proud of his decision and his actions.
The azure-haired knight struggled in the battle of consciousness as he fought with all his might to flutter his eyes open as they wanted to close. But finally, he was defeated; he shut his eyes and the world became black darkness.
In the end, if he were to die, he would do it with pride and a smile on his face. And so, as he serenely lay on the dirt ground under the pouring rain and forest trees, it was clear that – without a doubt – he was happy.
A/N: Well there you go. It's not my best, and kind of depressing... But wow, can you believe it took me six chapters to get through the attack on Crimea Castle (which in the game, was described in like... a few sentences...). I sure took my sweet time with getting to the point xP But oh well, it is what it is.
As for my next update, I don't know when that will be up, but you'll see it around eventually. I've also been working on another FE story, which I've already written the first chapter for, but I won't go on a long rant about that. I'll probably put up some info on my profilfe or something...
Anyways, as always, please leave a review if you want, and I'll be sure to respond to it ;) So, until I finish with the next chapter...
-Nami-san625