No Longer Alone


Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Franz gazed uncertainly at the towering stone before him. The structure was weatherworn but solid. When one was still, he would be able to hear raucous laughter and the occasional lewd joke floating through.

Yup. Definitely the bandit hideout.

Seth glanced around the group for a moment, then raised his voice.

"Who among you feel too weary for battle?" He questioned the small troupe.

No one raised their hand, although Franz noted Ross glancing pensively at his father.

Eirika shifted her grip on her Rapier. "Thanks for leading us here, Neimi. Now, stay out here, out of harm's way, and if the battle doesn't appear to be going well for us, get out as soon as you –"

"Um, actually…" Neimi began. "I'm not too bad at… My grandfather… What I mean is… Well, I've some skill with a bow."

"Are you saying you wish to fight?"

The young girl nodded.

"Well… all right, but keep out of danger… Ah, I know! Franz!"

"Milady." The knight replied, already knowing her request.

"Can you stay by her side and protect her?"

Inwardly, Franz wondered if he could even do an adequate job of protecting himself in his current sleep deprived state. He knew knights were supposed to be hardy warriors who could ride for days on end without rest, but he was nowhere near that level yet.

Still, there was only one answer. "Of course, milady."

Eirika gave a harried nod. "Good."

"I see several weak points in the walls." Seth intoned calmly. "If we were to strike them with a powerful weapon, they should crumble in a few hits."

"I could probably handle that." Garcia said confidently. "Warhammers are made for smashing things, after all."

"…Alright. Here's how it's going to be." Eirika said. "There's the main entrance over there, but it seems to be sparsely guarded. Franz, you take Neimi and Ross over to the main entrance. Try to cause a distraction while the rest of us focus on the wall."

"Franz." Seth spoke up. "The corridors of this place will likely be narrow. Dismounting would work to our advantage here."

Nodding to both the Princess and the General, he dismounted and tied Neige to a nearby rock outcropping. She would know enough not to move until he returned for her.

"Neimi, Ross, you guys ready?" He asked his two companions, who nodded their response. Franz noticed Neimi glancing about uncertainly, though.

"All right." Seth commanded, gesturing with his blade. "Move out."


How does one go about the task of causing a distraction? Well, there are several options.

First, of course, one could always do the classic 'toss a rock in a direction far away from you' gag.

Then again, perhaps trying to blend in with the enemy might work.

That, or luring them out one by one while those inside wonders why so many of the bandits are disappearing.

Or, one could simply take the no-brainer route of charging inside and bashing everything you saw.

Franz probably would have tried something a bit more tactical had the tactical side of his mind not refused to wake up, but as it were, he was tired, slightly grumpy, and wanted to get this fight over with.

As Neimi opened the festivities by firing an arrow into the leg of an unwary bandit, Franz charged in, smacking the flat of his blade against the back of the bandit's head, dropping the man and leaving him unconscious.

As another thug charged into the room, bellowing an incoherent war cry, Ross caught him mid-yawp with a swing to the brigand's chest. It failed to penetrate the thin sheet of armour the thug had been wearing, but the way the brigand slumped over groaning indicated he wouldn't be a threat for a while.

The only door at the far end of the entranceway was currently closed, but the lock seemed rather old and worn. Franz started towards it. A single swing and it'd probably give way…

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement.

Whirling, he caught sight of a young blue haired youth hiding in one of the alcoves. A long, navy-blue cloak covered most of his body.

"YOU!" Franz cried. He was the reason they were here in the first place. Exploding into action, he swung his sword in an upward motion as he charged, a movement that should have left the thieving rogue impaled on his blade – had the youth not skipped nimbly to the side.

Franz was prepared. Using his left foot as a pivot, he abruptly reversed the direction of his swing, slashing in a horizontal motion that caught the thief unawares. A hiss of pain, and a splash of red across the wall were his rewards. That technique training with Sir Seth had paid off, after all…

But now there were both in the open. And he probably couldn't rely on either Neimi or Ross to keep up with the thief's speed…

"Ross! Guard the entranceway!" He said tersely. The navy haired thief spun around at that, catching sight of the two other people in the room. He uttered a muted curse, and was about to bring his dagger up to deflect another sword strike from Franz when –

"Wait!" Neimi's voice cried out. "Colm!"

Startled, Franz jerked back. An instant later, the blue-haired youth's eyes widened.

"Neimi! What are… what are you doing here?"

Neimi had rushed to 'Colm's' side. "I – I came here with these people to find you… come on, it's too dangerous here. Let's… let's go home."

Colm pushed her away roughly. "We don't have a home anymore, don't you get it? Look, leave it to me. I can deal with stuff here, but I don't need you –"

"I don't what history there is between the two of you." Franz cut in. "But that man," He pointed to Colm. "Stole something from us. We want it back."

Neimi's eyes darted back and forth nervously. "Um, there – there's probably some kind of mistake… I mean…"

Franz sighed and glanced questioningly to Ross, who shrugged. In the distance, they could hear screams of surprise and the sound of pitched battle. The others had apparently made it inside, and it was in their best interests to join with them as soon as possible. But the rogue…

"We'll discuss this later." Franz said as he sheathed his sword. "Elsewhile, you," He said, pointing at Colm. "Are not leaving my sight."


Ka-chikt!

"And in chest number two, a shiny new sword!" Colm crowed as he dug the weapon out from the metallic box. "Observe, ladies and gentleman, it's fine make, the straight gleaming edges! Perfect for a knight errant, or perhaps a mercenary fighting to make his living-"

"Do you do this every time you open a chest?" Franz asked disbelievingly. "And how's that arm of yours?"

Wrapped up tightly in a bandage, blood still seeped through the wound in Colm's arm, staining it crimson. The wound from their earlier battle had been treated, but in Franz's estimation, it would probably leave a light scar.

"I'll be fine." The thief replied brusquely. "You wouldn't have been fast enough to take me down anyway."

"Fine talk when those are my bandages you're wearing." Franz shot back.

The two of them, along with Neimi, were resting in what seemed to be the treasure room of the bandit's den. Shortly after breaking into the fortress, they had met up with the main group, and Eirika had reshuffled the roster somewhat on the fly, splitting them up into smaller teams to better spread out and search the area. After a couple of seconds of waiting, the restless Colm had wandered over and starting picking the locks on the chests in the room. Franz had only raised a token resistance to this 'stealing', seeing as he was far, far too tired to really care, not to mention that all this stuff wasn't even the bandits' anyway, and tracking down the proper owners (assuming they were still alive) would take far more time than any sort of payback.

Of course, his knightly training for 'virtue' was probably going to make him hate himself in the morning. But that could wait.

Just then, the doors swung open, revealing Sir Gilliam in the doorway. "The remaining bandits have holed themselves up in what appears to be the primary chamber. Come." Was all he said.

"Understood." Franz was already on his feet, sword at the ready. Neimi followed also, fingering her bow nervously.

"Neimi…" Franz began. "You stay behind. You're not trained for fighting, you're drained physically and mentally, and a tired archer is only a detriment to his or her own side."

"Sir Franz… I…" Neimi nodded and managed a weak smile. "I understand."

"Good. You, thief. With me." Franz gestured with his sword to indicate Colm should walk in front, which the thief did with a resigned sigh.

As the trio of them wound their way through the hallways, he could hear the sounds of battle getting louder and louder. Rounding a corner, they burst onto the scene of bloody battle.

Garcia was in the thick of the melee, cleaving away bandits with his axe. Behind him and on foot, the General watched the older warrior's back, whirling his gleaming lance in close-quarters combat.

The two of them were generally having the worst of it in terms of sheer number of enemies facing them, but what they lacked in numbers they made up for in skill, and brigand after brigand fell to their blows. He could hear cries of battle gradually turning into shouts of fear and alarm.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the princess trying to fend off two bandits at the same time. Charging, he swung at the closer foe, trying to catch him unawares-

But the thug was alert, and he ducked, letting the sword stroke sweep over his head. Whirling, he brought his axe about in a chopping motion that would have gouged a chunk out of Franz's stomach had he not parried in time.

The heavy, clumsier make of axes were vulnerable to the swift, agile strikes of swords, and using that to his advantage, Franz pressed forward, going for a classic disarming move of jabbing the bandit's hand. The brigand, however, was better than most, he managed to bring his axe around far enough that his hand was now guarded as the sword clashed against the axe instead.

Now locked in a battle of sheer strength, Franz leaned forward, gritting his teeth as he applied all of his weight onto his sword, trying to push his foe back. Brawnier and more well-muscled, the brigand likewise exerted his strength, eyes flaring with hate as he too, sought to become the victor of this contest of might.

Then Franz twisted downwards and to the right, shifting his weight so that the surprised brigand was now pushing mostly against empty air. As he stumbled, Franz thrust with his sword and cut open his foe's stomach.

Blood splashed onto his face and eyes, partially obscuring his vision. Wiping it away hastily, he noted that the dead bandit had carried a vulnerary with him in back pocket.

Waste not, want not. He thought to himself as he stooped down to retrieve the healing salve. Just as his fingers closed around the gourd, a war cry from behind distracted him.

Twisting his head, he noted yet another bandit, heavily scarred, in the act of rearing back to gain momentum. He was obviously going to bring his axe down hard on the cavalier.

Turning and drawing his sword as fast he could, and yet at the same time knowing it'd never be fast enough, he watched as the bandit swung forward, his axe cleaving through the young knight's armour with ease…

At least, it would have cleaved through Franz's armour had it come into contact with it. As it were, the thug was holding nothing in his hand at the moment, and the only damage Franz received was getting thumped on the shoulder slightly by the bandit's fist.

As both baffled warriors contemplated the sudden turn of events, with the bandit glaring at his hand he could by sheer willpower will the axe to appear in his fist again, a cocky voice came from behind them.

"Ooh, now this is a beat-up old thing. Look at the nicks all over the blade." Colm said in a conversational tone as he clutched the bandit's weapon in his hand. "No, wait, don't tell me – let me guess how each mark was made." Pointing to the one topmost on the axe. "Now, lesse, this one here was probably made when he tried to draw it and ended up nicking a nearby wall. This one here, now, that looks like he tried to carve up some chicken for a wee bite to eat. You can see the telltale grease. Now, this one over here looks like he made it himself on purpose in order to boast he'd been in a battle- "

At this point, the bandit lunged at Colm, arms reaching out to simultaneously grasp at his weapon, and to close his hand around the youth's neck. Colm neatly sidestepped out of the way at this, and as the bandit charged past, a crimson line blossomed on his neck. The brigand slowed, staggered, then collapsed.

"That was for Lark." Colm said softly as he resheathed his dagger.

"…" Franz nodded slightly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." The rogue said breezily. "Shall we continue?" The battle had already progressed further into the main chamber.

Franz nodded, and the two fighters ventured deeper into the halls, doing their best to end the fight quickly.


Approximately half an hour later…

Franz sat on the ground, leaning against the wall, Neige at his side. The battle had been ended without serious casualties on their side, which was a good thing. They were going to need all the manpower they had for their expedition into Renvall. He closed his eyes, trying to snatch a bit of rest before they set out again. Seth had explained that haste was of utmost importance, and they would be setting forth again before the hour was out. The Silver Knight's endurance had been well-known among the trainees and squires. And he had generally lived up to his fame. Running a blockade with a potentially fatal lance wound was no easy task.

Princess Eirika had told him about his mentor's feat sometime in between leaving castle Frelia and arriving in time to halt the bandit attack on Ide. Along the way, he had also learnt, much to his chagrin, that King Fado had perished along with Castle Renais. Ephraim and the Princes were now the last remaining lights for Renais.

His train of thought was distracted by the sounds of a scuffle. Cracking an eye open, he smirked slightly as he caught sight of the General halfway in the attempt of frisking Colm. Colm, meanwhile, had pulled a gleaming bracelet out from his pack and was frantically waving it in the General's face in an attempt to cut short the search. Seth finally relented, taking hold of the bracelet and releasing Colm. A short conversation ensued, and Franz couldn't make out the words, but Colm was gesturing towards himself and Neimi. Probably requesting provisions or something…


"You're coming with us?" Franz asked the blue-haired thief with a measure of incredulity.

"Yup. Talked it over with your leader. Turns out she could use our skills. Both of us."

"Mm." Franz wasn't sure how he felt about this arrangement. Of course, having more manpower would always be a good thing, as long as they weren't liabilities on the battlefield. But something about having a man who made a profession of thieving on their side didn't exactly sit right with him.

"Oh, by the way, this is for you." Colm said cheerfully as he dug around his pack for a bit, before pulling out a gleaming sword.

"Wasn't that the sword you got from the bandit's hideout?" Franz asked suspiciously.

"Maybe. What of it? Anyway, I noticed your old sword was getting a little banged up, what with all the fighting you've been doing. Thought you could use a new one."

"…Is this a friendship offering of some sort?"

"And what if it is?"

Franz hesitated for a moment longer, then reached out and grasped the sword, giving a couple of practice swings with the blade. It was a fine weapon, sturdy and sharp. "Thanks." He said, a little hesitantly. Colm smiled cockily.

"Use it to cover my back, and we're even."

"Everyone, prepare to move out." The General's authoritative voice cut through the chatter. "From here, we ride east towards Za'Ha woods. It should be the safest route available for us. Let's go."

The company began their slow trek eastwards.


Serafew at last! As Amelia stumbled into the border town, she probably would have jumped for joy had she not been so tired.

Still, even in her exhausted state, she couldn't help but note how subdued the town appeared. What few citizens that were wandering about, even in midday, carried harried, unsure looks about them.

One couldn't miss the sheer number of soldiers bearing the emblem of Grado rushing about her. The entire place seemed more like a garrison town than the quiet border town she had heard people talk to her about.

Well, maybe her conception of it had been wrong. Didn't matter much, she supposed. First priority right now was finding an inn and taking a break for several days before heading straight for the Capital.

Finding one of the few citizens in the town square, she approached him hesitantly. "E-excuse me…" She began.

The villager jerked as if someone had stabbed him. Seemingly by instinct, he drew back from her fearfully. Then, seeming to recollect himself, he managed a quavering. 'Y-yes? What do you want?"

Amelia blinked at this unexpected display, but forged on. "Could you tell me where the nearest inn is located?"

The villager glanced over his shoulder, and then pointed to a building on the far side of the town square. "There." He said gruffly. "Now leave me alone."

Amelia opened her mouth to thank the villager, but he was already walking away. Scratching her head in puzzlement, she shrugged the incident off and headed towards the inn.

(X)

As she pushed the swinging doors open, she was assailed by all sorts of smells and voices typical of a bar. Waving away a burp from a patron sitting near the entrance, she tried to find the barkeep in as short a time as possible to get her room.

As she wandered past the tables she caught snatches of conversation floating throughout the area. Funny, based on the conversations, most of the people in here were Grado citizens. Where were the Renaitians? Wasn't this supposed to be a border town?

"Heard the princess fled to Frelia…"

"Tirado's receivin' heat from the capital over not being able to find that prince…"

"Did you hear? Three new generals in our army. They say now they'll have the power to crush the remaining countries…"

"Monsters have been showing up in Za'Ha woods just north of here…"

Amelia halted in midstep. Monsters? What was going on? Leaning over slightly, she tried to catch the remainder of what the weather-beaten looking man was saying.

"Or at least that's what they say. A whole bunch of Grado soldiers went in on a scouting mission, and only three of 'em came back in one piece. Said they fought zombies, skeletons, and some weird floating eyeball thingamabobbers."

"Ah, now that's a tall tale to believe, Jake."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But I was there, man. I saw the scars on the soldiers' bodies. No blade or lance ever made those wounds. They'd been done ripped, man, ripped, I tell you. So, if any of you value yore health, stay away from that place, y'hear?"

Monsters? Amelia shook her head at the thought. She'd stopped believing in fairy tales long before she even reached the age of ten, and here were men twice her age talking about monsters?

"What'll it be, little missy?"

Stunned out of her reverie, she noticed the barkeep looking down at her. "A room for the night, please." She said, pulling out her purse.

Stuff like monsters could wait. She had an army to sign up for.


"So this is Za'Ha woods?" Franz heard Vanessa ask Father Moulder as they ventured further into the leafy undergrowth.

"Indeed. Rather gloomy, don't you think?" Moulder said conversationally.

"The trees grow rather thickly around these parts." He heard Seth say. "There are a couple of villages further in the forest. We should be able to rest there for the night."

"Oh, good. A soft bed at last." Franz smiled to himself at that thought.

In fact, the prospect of having a sturdy roof over their heads, along with a warm, homecooked meal, seemingly cheered the entire party up, and their pace quickened noticeably.

None of them noticed the red, glowing eyes in the semidarkness.


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