That's right. Make a little O with your mouth to show your surprise. As a one-off Saren special, you're getting 2 chapters in one night! =D I felt a little guilty about giving Ellipsis16 being so short, so I guess this is sorta to make up for it. And it's LOOOOOOONG.

So. Be grateful.

I did use some ingame dialogue for this chapter, but I tried to keep it to a minimum - largely because I hate being unoriginal, but also because the game's canon isn't perfectly matched with the canon of this story. You have no idea how much of a headache I had when I realised that Tormod isn't meant to have joined Ike yet. But I think I have that all sorted out. You'll just have to forget game canon and allow for the suspension of disbelief for a few chapters while I get everything straight. Okay?

...I wore the tunic of my Soren cosplay while I was writing this. It's surprisingly comfortable. =3

Canteus Castle was small and derelict. Had it any windows, Soren guessed they would long since have been broken. Even the forest around the castle seemed eerily quiet amongst the overgrown vegetation. "This is a waste of time. Look around. Nobody has even set foot around here for years."

"Hah!" Ranulf grinned. "Trust me on this - my information is always reliable."

Soren looked at Ike for support on the matter, but found the commander irritatingly willing to go along with Ranulf's plan. "It's worth a shot, right? If there really are Crimean soldiers being held captive here, then rescuing them is the least we can. We could use all the manpower we can get."

Ranulf looked affronted. "What d'you mean, 'if there really are'? I'm hurt that you think so little of my intelligence-gathering abilities."

"Ugh," Soren muttered, hanging his head. "Fine. But try to make this quick. Don't forget that we have still to meet Titania and the rest of the mercenaries in Begnion. I doubt they would appreciate being kept waiting."

"No problem!" Ranulf's grin fell considerably upon entering the actual building. "Er...I don't suppose that any of you are particularly gifted at opening locks, are you?"

As Soren was shaking his head wordlessly, he noticed a small movement in the corner of his eye. Ranulf appeared to notice someting as well, as he pricked his nose up and sniffed the air. "Hey! Stop skulking and come out!"

Shortly afterwards, a man appeared from the darkness, his face half-hidden by a bandana. "I have business with Sir Greil. Where is he?"

"You're sorely lacking in social etiquette," Soren replied, before anyone else had a chance to speak. He heard Ranulf cough in a manner that sounded dangerously like the word 'hypocrite', but he ignored it. "It might be considered rather more polite if you were to state your identity and your intentions, rather than stalking us around like some second-class assassin."

The man glared at him. "My business is with Sir Greil."

"Is that all you can say?" Ranulf raised an eyebrow, looking less than impressed.

"I have no need to speak to anyone other than my employer."

"Actually, you might find you do," Soren told him irritably. "Commander Greil is dead."

Soren could have sworn that he saw the man smirk beneath his mask. "Well now. That is a problem."

"My father hired you?" Ike was staring at the man in a mixture of curiosity and distrust. "What for?"

"Fifty thousand."

Ike looked at him in confusion. "Fifty thousand for what?"

"That's precisely what it'll cost you to find out."

"That's rather a large sum of money for a mysterious stranger to demand." Soren narrowed his eyes.

The man definitely smirked this time around. "My, you're certainly a suspicious one."

"Hark who's talking," Soren shot back. The two of them continued to glare at each other for some moments before Ike broke the silence.

"All right."

The man looked over at him. "You're willing to pay?" Ike nodded.

"Ike, we don't have that much," Soren argued. "We spent nearly all our earnings on new supplies before we left Gallia."

"Then we'll pay when we do have that much." Ike turned to the masked stranger. "Is that acceptable?"

The man's smirk broadened. "Certainly. Though I'll be charging for every day that I'm kept waiting."

"That's ridiculous!" Soren was outraged. "You expect us to pay you for doing nothing?"

"I have many talents. You may find them useful." The man held Soren's gaze. "You need some locks opened, do you not? And of course, I'm an expert in gathering intelligence as well."

There was a brief pause while Soren considered just how useful the stranger might prove. "Very well. We will accept your offer."

"How very trusting of you. I'm touched." The man's words dripped with Soren's usual sarcasm.

Soren didn't particularly appreciate this. "Please. You're more of a mercenary than we are. It's obvious that you're loyal to bags of gold and nothing more." He paused. "At least your motivations are easy enough to understand."

"I'm glad we understand one another. I'll be charging 50 gold for every lock I open."

"Understood."

Ike frowned, still looking a tad confused about recent events. "By the way, uh...who exactly are you?"

The man grimaced. "Call me Volke. I'm a thief. You need know no more than that." And with that, he was gone - he had already picked open the first lock before the others had the chance to react.

"I guess we ought to follow him," was all that Ike said.

Soren nodded, and quickly followed Volke's path. As the thief ran towards the next cell, Soren glanced into the first one. A tall man with long black hair stood in the corner furthest away, his clothing looking suspiciously like that of a monk. That couldn't be right. What would Daein stand to gain from imprisoning an innocent priest?

As he was busy dwelling on this thought, Ike pushed past him. "Hey! Come on, we're here to break you out."

The prisoner glanced over, looking startled. "How...gracious of you. And who might my rescuers be, precisely?"

"The Greil Mercenaries. I'm their commander, Ike."

"I see. You have my thanks, Ike."

Soren gave him an odd look. "You're a monk, aren't you? Or a priest? Some sort of holy man, judging by your attire. Why would they imprison you?"

"Ah...I'm a pilgrim. I was tending to wounded Crimean knights," the prisoner explained. "They arrested me along with the soldiers."

Soren gave a stiff nod, not entirely sure that he believed the story. Ike, however, appeared completely oblivious to any ulterior motive. "You should get out while you still can. The guards are sure to notice us soon."

It was as though he had cursed them in saying so, for at that moment one of the guards gave a loud yell, suddenly alerted to the mercenaries' presence. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? C-Commander Danomill! The castle's been breached!"

Soren's attention was diverted by a bulky knight entering the scene, chuckling to himself - presumably this was Danomill. "About time we had some fresh meat! The prisoners in here are getting a little stale. Get hunting, men!"

When Soren glanced back around, the imprisoned pilgrim had disappeared from sight, as slippery as Volke in the darkness. He sighed. At least that was one less person to take care of on the battlefield. He refused to dwell on where the mysterious priest might have disappeared off to. "Ike. I need you to act as a shield."

"A shield?" Ike frowned at him. It wasn't the safest sounding plan. Even Soren had to admit that.

Not that he did. "Yes. I need you to get me close enough so that I can bring down their commander. His armour will prove useless against magical attacks."

"Gotcha." Ike smiled at his tactician. "We'll need someone else to help, though - the corridor's too wide for me to hold alone. Where's Oscar?"

The green-haired knight was in fact in the second cell, having an unexpected reunion with his supposed 'rival' - though neither Soren nor Ike were aware of this at that moment in time. "No idea," Soren replied.

"Hey, need some help?" A familiar cat-like grin appeared next to them. "I'd be more than happy to rip some Daein soldiers to shreds for you." Ranulf flexed his claws, transforming before their eyes.

He and Ike made short work of the Daein soldiers in front of them. However, it was not long before they came across yet another cell, this time with a young woman in it. "Are you all right?" Ike asked, as soon as Volke had opened the door for them. Soren felt a slight twinge upon hearing such concern in Ike's voice.

"I-I'm fine," she stuttered. "Are y'all rescuin' me?"

Soren blinked in surprise. What an accent. She must be from the more remote countryside, he concluded. "Yes, we are. Can you fight at all?"

"I'm mighty fine with a lance." The young woman (Soren realised that she must have been younger than he had first thought) blushed and avoided his gaze. She pawed at the ground with the toe of her boot.

"That's perfect," Soren said, interrupting the awkward silence that was quickly developing. "Here." He handed her the slim lance that he had been carrying.

Ike raised an eyebrow. "Is there any particular reason that you were carrying a lance, Soren?" His lips were quirked in a smile.

"I had a tome of each magic type already, of varying degrees of strength and accuracy. And I happened to stray across a spare lance." Something in the way that he said this so off-handedly implied that the lance had previously belonged to a soldier - one who had later felt the might of Soren's magic. Ike certainly knew that it wasn't past his tactician to do such things for the sake of 'supplies'. "And I highly doubted that Daein troops would be stupid enough to imprison Crimean soldiers without first unarming them. I decided it might prove useful, so I kept it with me."

Ike nodded once, letting the conversation drop. He ought to have known better than to question Soren's motives, but apparently curiosity had gotten the better of him this time. "Is that the commander up ahead?" he asked, quickly changing the conversation topic.

Soren furrowed his brow in concentration. "Yeah." He exhaled slowly. "I think I can strike him down from here."

"You can do what?"

"I have a Meteor tome with me," Soren explained, ignoring the amusing expression on Ranulf's face - wide-eyed and terrified. "It's long-distance magic."

Ike still looked a little dubious about this entire concept, leading Soren to roll his eyes. "Just watch." With a swift chant in the ancient language, the knight was brought to his knees, his heavy armour rendered worthless. Soren doubted that he even registered what hit him before the lifelight slowly faded from his eyes.

Ranulf let out a low whistle. "Did I mention how glad I am that you're on our side, Soren?"

Ike stared at his friend in a disconcerted manner. "...Why haven't you used this before?" He gave an awed little gasp.

"Because," Soren explained impatiently, "it's expensive and hard to get hold of. Each tome only has five uses. It's also very difficult to use, and...it takes..." The corners of his vision started fogging over. "...a lot of..." He felt himself falling through the air, powerless to stop it. "...ener--" His world went dark before he had even hit the floor.