Chapter 8: Overwhelmed
"I think I'm going to be sick…"
In Amy's defence, part of the reason for the nauseating feeling she was experiencing genuinely was from the ride. Wyverns may be strong enough to carry two people easily, but they're not proportioned to give a smooth ride. Even their riders, who were used to their mounts, had found the journey unpleasant.
Of course, that was only part of it. There's a limit to how traumatising a witnessed event can be before it makes a person physically ill. Amy may not have known Lily for very long, and had had few actual conversations with her, but she had been touched by her sacrifice and was deflated by her death.
Still, the tactician was – for now – handling it better than the rest of Loren's army. No longer needing to prioritise self-preservation over grief, the gravity of what happened struck them like a club.
"Lady Lily…" Hammond was the first to speak, but he lacked any of his usual confidence, and his voice sounded like it would crack at any moment. "She's…"
"Say no more." Karr held up his hand. He was usually capable of keeping his emotions in check better than his fellow cavalier, but at this moment sounded just as broken.
"She truly was a noble soul…" said Eld, softly.
"My lady," said Doran, as though talking to the princess' spirit. "It was an honour to serve you. I'm so sorry…"
Ronal couldn't bring himself to say anything, and just looked down at the ground. Although they hadn't been royal soldiers for very long, both Talla and Brandon were equally in despair – Talla was on the ground crying, and Brandon was motionless, either unable or unwilling to speak.
The Ilanians in the group were handling the situation slightly better, as they'd had no direct contact with Lily, but they had witnessed what everyone else had – a selfless young noblewoman giving her life for the greater good – and were understandably demoralised. Saye recited an ancient Ilanian prayer for the dead, while Alice and Lind bowed their heads, joining in with the more well-known parts of the prayer. Natalie too had a solemn expression on her face – in her years as a mercenary, she had seen people die before, but none as undeserving as Lily.
None of this even came close to how devastated Loren was. The young prince had almost fallen off Ray's wyvern as his legs had frozen up in despair, and was now crying into the ground, bruising his fist with how hard he was pounding it against solid stone. His thoughts were barely coherent – in fact it had taken a moment for him to even notice they had stopped moving and had landed.
Aside from Amy, the only one in the group not overwhelmed by grief was Xand. He was shocked, of course, but also professional enough to know that such emotion was best saved for when there weren't things to be doing. With Loren in no state to give an order, he, as second in command of the Posayan Legion, had to take charge.
"You all did a fine job on the battlefield today," he said. "That we all still have our lives is testament to that. Now, you are dismissed. Take whatever opportunity you need to recover. And make sure you rest."
Although Loren didn't budge at Xand's words – if he even noticed them – his soldiers took the chance to return to the rooms they had been given by Treo those days before. Eventually, only Amy, and Xand himself, remained.
The tactician turned to Ray. "General," she said. "I… We must thank you. Without your help, we never would have gotten out of there with our lives intact."
Ray's expression remained serious, but the faintest hint of a smile reached his lips. "No, Lady Amy," he began. "It is I who must thank you. I will admit, I viewed your predictions with scepticism, but you were absolutely right about how Reon would position its soldiers. Had my squadron tried to move through the mountains as originally planned, we would have been slaughtered. Words cannot express my gratitude that you spoke out against our strategists."
"Ray," said Xand. "Can you arrange for us to meet with Prince Treo? Our encounter with the Reonian Champions has left us with more questions than ever – we would like to see if the prince has any information we could use."
"Of course," nodded the wyvern lord. "I shall fetch my lord immediately."
"No, there's no need for that. When we do speak with Prince Treo, I would like Lord Loren to be present as well – and it may take some time before he is in a state of mind to do so."
"Very well. I will speak to Lord Treo and tell him this. When you are ready, please come and find me, and I shall take you to him." Ray turned, and remounted his wyvern – he had to do something with it before he spoke to the prince.
"So the question remains…" began Amy, motioning towards Loren, "what do we do about him?"
In spite of the solar cycle being at its peak, producing longer days than at other times in the year, the sun was beginning to set by the time Loren, Xand and Amy went to meet with Treo. Loren had remained motionless for almost a mark before Xand had finally convinced him to get to his feet – astonishingly, Amy hadn't even had to slap him this time.
The bulk of the time, however, had been used up when Loren had gone to speak to his sister. Neither Amy nor Xand had been present when he did (and both enjoyed having a little time to rest themselves), but both knew the princess would take the news perhaps even harder than Loren, and were proven correct by the fact that she was still crying when Xand went to check on the several marks later. Eventually, however, reality had kicked in. Loren had called for Doran to look after Marne, as he went to meet with Treo and Ray.
"Loren, you came," said the Ilanian prince. "Ray told me what happened – well, everything he knows about, at least. I'm deeply sorry about what happened to Lily."
Loren's face fell. "We failed, Treo." Anger began to build up in his voice. "Those dastards took her from me without so much as a care!"
"I understand how you feel, Loren." Treo had lost his mother in an assassination several years prior, and memories of the contempt he had felt for the perpetrators were rising from the depths of his thoughts. He knew he had to change the track of the conversation. "Your advisors requested to meet with me. I assume that was for more than a repetition of events I've already been informed about?"
"We're looking for information, Prince Treo," replied Xand. "We learned a great many things today, and were wondering if you might have any light to shed on them."
"Information? I see. Well, I'll do what I can to assist, but I can't promise I'll have any answers for you."
"Thank you, Treo," said Loren. He paused, almost unable to get his words out. "First of all… Do you… Your spies… Have they… heard anything about… my father?"
"Your father?"
"The Reonians claimed that he was dead," Xand continued in Loren's place. "That they gave him a choice – the same choice they gave to Lord Loren – and that he chose to die rather than help them. But I know King Blake. He's the finest man on the battlefield I've ever seen."
"Right," said Treo, who had, albeit on only one occasion, witnessed the Paroltean king in combat. "I doubt even a Champion of Reon could best him in a fight."
"If that's the case," said Amy, "normally I'd dismiss their words as lies intended only to weaken us. Even so…" She caught herself before she said anything that might have affected Loren's mental state even further.
"In any case," said Treo, "while my spies did indeed inform me that your father made his way into Reon, Loren, I'm afraid the trail went cold there, and I have heard nothing more since. What has happened to him since, we can only speculate about."
"I see…" Loren's words trailed off into nothing.
"I will get back in touch with our spies and see if they can find anything else out." Treo paused. "Now then, was there anything else?"
"Actually, my lord," replied Amy, "there is. Do you know anything about the Fire Emblem?"
"The Fire Emblem?"
"Loren, if you would." The prince reached into his tunic and produced the brilliant medallion. "This is what Reon were after. Why they attacked this palace and took Princess Lily, why they goaded Prince Loren to come after them, in fact, why they invaded Parolt in the first place." Loren's face fell once again at the whistle-stop tour of his recent bad memories, but Amy continued. "And we don't have the first idea why. All we know at this point is that it's a Paroltean treasure – the king gave it to Princess Lily before he went to Reon, and Princess Lily in turn gave it to Prince Loren."
"But even the Paroltean royal siblings do not know what it is for?" Treo paused. "I will give you the help you need," he continued. "But first…" he turned to is second in command. "Ray, please prepare the sparring hall." Ray nodded, and Treo returned his gaze to Loren, Xand and Amy. "Loren, please join me in the arena."
"You would wager your information in a sparring contest!?" Loren was outraged. "Treo, this isn't the time!"
"On the contrary. I'd say this is exactly the right time for this. And don't worry, I'll aid you regardless of the outcome." With that, Treo followed Ray out of the room.
"I can't believe him!" shouted Loren, anger still present in his voice. "What good is a swordfight going to be in a situation like this!?"
"Actually, Loren," Amy's voice was slightly softer than usual, "I think you should do it."
"What? Amy!"
"I agree, milord."
"Xand? You too?"
"I can't explain it right now," said Amy, "but please trust me."
Loren didn't reply – he had already lost the discussion, and he simply gave up. He nodded, and he, Xand and Amy left the room.
Castle Senne's sparring chamber was every bit as impressive as one might expect of a royal practice room. The space was huge, and each wall was lined with equipment, ranging from practice weapons to healing staves. It was currently empty – soldiers stationed at the palace enjoyed using the space, even at this time of day, but Treo had wanted this to be private.
"So, Loren, are you ready?" Treo asked his fellow prince.
"Treo… Do we really have to do this?"
The Ilanian prince ignored him, and grabbed two practice swords from a rack on the wall – one a thin, light sword to act in place of his rapier, and a medium-sized one to replace Loren's longsword. He through the larger sword to Loren.
"It's been many years since we last sparred, Loren," he said. "I had hoped for it to be in better circumstances, but no matter. Now, I would see how far you've come!"
"The match will be best three out of five," announced Ray, who was overseeing the fight with a healer at his side. A round will be considered over when one combatant is no longer able to fight – in other words, the moment at which their adversary would be able to strike the finishing blow were this a real battle."
Loren picked up the practice sword at his feet, and crossed it with Treo's. I don't know why Treo has challenged me, thought the Paroltean prince, but I must win this. He momentarily closed his eyes. For Parolt. And for Lily…
"Round one! Begin!"
As soon as Ray declared the start of the round, Treo went on the attack. His slices were fast and powerful, and he began to push Loren backwards. By contrast, Loren's swordplay was sloppy – he wasn't defending properly, and couldn't stand his ground against his opponent's assault.
In fact, Loren was barely even concentrating on the battle. Even at this inopportune time, his thoughts had wandered again, and he was now thinking about everything but the enemy in front of him. His father, his sisters, even the faces of the Reonian generals were coming to the forefront of his mind.
Watching the battle, it came as no surprise to the four spectators when Treo made his decisive move. He cut with his sword once again, and when Loren moved his own sword to parry, instead of simply glancing off it, Treo put his strength into the swing, knocking Loren's weapon out of his hand.
Treo swung his sword in a circle, and pointed it at Loren's neck. "Looks like round one goes to me," he said, drawing his sword back. "I'm disappointed, Loren. You're not even putting up a fight." When Loren didn't respond, he continued with, "I wonder what Lily would say about that?"
The mention of his sister caused Loren's eyes to flare with anger. If you're looking for a fight, he thought, I'll give you one. He picked up his weapon, and crossed it with Treo's once again.
"Round two! Begin!"
This time, Loren made the first move. He swung his sword forward as hard as he could, giving Treo barely any chance to parry. Before his fellow prince could even react, he swung again, this time diagonally upwards. Treo felt his grip on his own weapon relax as Loren came close to knocking it out of his hand, and only just managed to keep it.
Loren didn't let up. He swung once more, followed up by a powerful thrust. This time, Treo couldn't maintain his hold, and he dropped his sword. Loren pressed his weapon against the Ilanian prince's chest, pressing gently into his ribcage.
"Are you still disappointed?" Loren asked.
"I am," replied Treo, flatly. "Winning a single round does not make you a master, Loren. Especially not like that." Treo bent down and retrieved his sword, returning to the centre of the sparring hall and locking it with Loren's once more.
"Round three! Begin!"
Loren began this round exactly as he had the last – with a powerful forward swing – but this time, Treo was ready for him. He stepped backwards quickly, causing Loren to not only miss his mark, but stumble forwards slightly.
Treo took the advantage while he had it. He circled around Loren and kicked him hard in the back, knocking the already off-balance prince almost to the ground. He lifted his sword and began to swing it down. Loren managed to move his own sword into the way and parry at the last second, but the energy required to do so meant he couldn't stay up, and he collapsed to the ground immediately after.
"Do you see? You're not fighting me properly, Loren. In fact, right now, you can't fight me properly."
"Can't? What do you mean?"
"Your focus is elsewhere. You can't hope to match me if you're not able to go all out." Treo's voice softened. "I know you're still grieving for your sister, Loren. But you're no use to anyone like this. Frankly, right now, your cause would be no worse off if I killed you here, to say nothing of what might happen if you engage Reon with your current mindset."
Loren wanted to contest Treo's words with every fibre of his being, but on the floor as he was now, he realised his friend was right. He knew that on the battlefield, a soldier had to be completely focused on the enemies in from of him, but at the moment, he couldn't even do that in a training situation. He was useless as he was.
But he wasn't going to stay that way. From this point on, he would approach this fight, no, everything, with the focus it demanded. He rose to his feet with a new glint in his eyes. Seeing this, Treo cracked a smile.
"So, finally decided to fight properly, did you?" The two once again crossed their weapons, and prepared for the next bout.
"Round four! Begin!"
Treo took the initiative this time, with a powerful thrust. Unlike earlier, however, he was parried by a well timed, powerful, and certain movement by Loren. Loren then went for a sideways slash, and the hard sound of wood against wood resonated through the hall as Treo moved his sword back to block.
Now that Loren was fighting seriously, both he and Treo were waiting for an opportunity to arise, to see a weak point in the other's defence. Each time either did, a quick parry made short work of their hopes.
Loren was beginning to tire. But the young prince persevered, and eventually he found his opening – when Treo moved his hand back, he telegraphed his next attack. Seeing the attack coming, but being unable to move his sword in time to capitalise on it, Loren simply charged forward and tackled Treo, throwing him off his balance. He followed up with a powerful cut, disarming the Ilanian prince.
Despite having lost the bout, Treo looked happier at that result than he had at any of the preceding ones. "That's it, Loren!" he encouraged. "Now you're giving it your all!" Although, he thought, I still have one last lesson to teach you. He reached for his sword once more, and for the final time, locked it with Loren's.
"This is the final round!" declared Ray. "The winner of this bout will win the match! Now… Begin!"
For the first time, neither made their move immediately, both waiting for an opportunity to strike. Those they were both focused on each other, they were panting heavily – Loren especially – after such a long fight.
Loren finally made his move. He raised his sword up and swung downwards, pushing hard against Treo's inevitable parry. He broke through momentarily, and with great speed followed up with a cut. Treo, his balance faltering, could only manage an awkward parry. Seizing the opportunity, Loren went for a thrust, aiming to end the fight with one last blow…
That was promptly deflected. Treo had not only regained his balance, he'd moved into a more favourable position. With what seemed like the speed of a wild animal, he circled Loren before aiming a well-placed strike directly at his sword arm. Lacking the ability to defend, Loren could only watch helplessly as this weapon was knocked right out of his hand.
"Lord Treo is the winner!" declared Ray.
Loren was shocked. He'd given that last round everything he had. How could Treo have claimed victory so easily? Was he simply that much better than him?
"You fought well, Loren," said Treo. "In those final two rounds, you showed me just how far you've come as a swordsman since last we duelled. But would you like to know why you couldn't win?" He paused, as his healer came to him and held up a stave, chanting. When she was finished, he continued. "Loren, during that fight, you regained your focus, and your drive. But you cannot simply regain those things in the middle of combat and expect to come out on top."
"Are you saying…?"
"A sudden epiphany does not change the fact that you expended far too much energy wastefully in the first three rounds. Because I preserved my strength, I was more than a match for you towards the end.
"Focus is important, Loren. But you need to remember that it must be consistent, or you'll be held back by early failures. Do you understand?"
"Treo… Thank you."
"If you don't mind, my lord," Amy piped up, "you said you would tell us what you know about the Fire Emblem."
"Ah, yes. Sadly, I must confess this. I do not know anything about it. When you showed it to me earlier, it was the first time I'd even heard of such a thing."
"But you said…" replied Loren.
"I said I'd help you, and indeed I will. I may not know anything about that Emblem… but I know where you might be able to find out… the Natari Grand Library."
"The Grand Library?"
"The Grand Library is the largest, most concentrated source of information on the continent. If the information you seek is anywhere, that's where it'll be."
"Then we must head there at once."
"It won't be that easy." Ray had joined the conversation. "The Grand Library is off-limits to most people. The only way is in is with an imperial decree."
"Right," added Treo. "You'll have to get an audience with Empress Gayane. But if you can impress her, I've no doubt she will grant you access."
"And this Empress… how am I going to impress her?"
"Empress Gayane is well known to worship strength over all things, even in comparison to other Natari," explained Amy. "Word has it that she will grant any wish within her power to those who can prove their ability in combat."
"Though such a thing is supposed to be nearly impossible…" added Xand.
"Nevertheless…" replied Loren. "It would seem we have no other option. If the Empress wishes to see combat prowess, then we simply have to show it to her."
"That's the spirit, Loren!"
"Treo… Thank you. If I had thrown myself into combat so readily in my mindset of a mark ago, there's no way I would be able to achieve anything."
"You're a close friend and ally, Loren. Your gratitude is unnecessary. All I need is for you to have learned from this encounter." When the Paroltean prince gave a nod, he changed tack. "One last thing… You'll want to give your soldiers some time to recover from the recent battle. Please feel free to stay here as long as you need until then. And I shall talk to Saye, Alice and Lind. If you wish, they will continue to assist you."
"Treo, this is too much! They're your soldiers…"
"On the contrary, I only wish I could do more, that I could join you. But I must remain here. Ilan must be ready for any potential threats. But Loren, when the time comes… When you choose to face Reon… Know that Ilan will fight at your side."
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart, my friend." Loren turned to Xand and Amy, and the three left the sparring hall. They (or rather, Amy) would figure things out in the morning – how long they should stay to recover before heading to Natar, what equipment they'd need to bring, etcetera – but for now, the hour was late, and they all needed some rest.
Next time:
Loren enters Natar, and seeks an audience with Empress Gayane. She is willing to grant Loren's request for access to the Grand Library, but only if he and his soldiers can pass her test…
"Source of Strength" is coming soon.
