No Longer Alone


Heh. I know quite a few people have been waiting for the 'meeting-up' scene. Well, it's here. Hope it's to your liking.

Without further ado, let us begin.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


The battle began with explosive force – so sudden that Franz had almost been caught unawares. But he had caught the downward slashing motion Ephraim had made with his hand an instant before the storm of projectiles – arrows, ballista bolts, magic spells erupted from the ground and the castle battlements.

Kicking Neige into a gallop, Franz swept his blade out. The group of crimson-armoured knights guarding the outer gates had raised their lances in answer to the cavalry charge.

From somewhere beside him, a hand-axe sliced through the air, cutting deep into the helmet of one of the forefront knights. The soldier collapsed, creating a gap, however small, in the ranks of the knights.

Forde swept past him, flinging a Javelin with deadly force at another mounted soldier. He fell, but one of his comrades quickly retaliated in kind, forcing Forde to veer off mid charge.

The closer he got to the shadow of the castle, the safer he would be from the enemy arrows – of course that meant he would be in fighting range of the mounted knights. The grip on his sword tightened. He wasn't going to let his brother and Prince Ephraim down.

The first of the knights thrust at him with his spear. Judging the strike expertly, he leaned enough to the side to let it pass him harmlessly by. Then Franz swung his sword upward, catching the chin off the knight with the hilt of his sword. The soldier was down for the count.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Ross fending off two foot-bound soldiers on his own. Before he could rush to the young axefighter's aid, however, Gilliam had charged the two, body-checking the first one while Ross made ample use of the latter soldier's distraction to remove the soldier's leg.

"The gates! Strike the gates!"

How? Franz through as he blocked a sword blow from an enemy cavalier. There's still so many of them at the gates! Forcing the blade back, Franz slammed his gauntleted fist into the enemy's helmet, creating a sizable dent in the visor which served as a handy impediment to vision. While the stunned soldier dropped his sword in a desperate attempt to get the helmet off, Franz slashed the reins off the knight's horse and unseated the soldier by way of a well-aimed kick.

A battering ram had been prepared for the purpose of this siege, along with several ladders. Of course, ladders weren't much of an option for one who did most of his fighting on horseback, but it would greatly aid the footsoldiers.

Still, though, the soldiers around the battering ram would be the primary focus for archers, not to mention the mass of enemy knights still milling around near the front were going to be doing their level best to impede the efforts of said battering ram.

Franz let out a growl of frustration as he swung his blade in a wide arc, forcing the three soldiers attempting he was facing to back off slightly. They needed to find some way inside the courtyard to disable the archers and mages and what-have-you, and to do that they needed to start taking out the knights guarding the gate faster.

Tugging on the reins as Neiege reared back, he brought his sword down with deadly force upon a lancefighter caught unawares. Crimson blood coated the blade, some of it splashing across Franz's armour and breeches.

First kill of the day. Franz thought wearily. And it was unlikely to be his last. Sighing, he guided Neige to the right, where he could see Sir Garcia and two Frelian soldiers attempting to hold their own against four knights on horseback.


Amelia winced every time the dull roar of battle beyond the front gates crested and increased in intensity, which seemed to be every few seconds.

"Are you alright?" The soldier next to her asked gruffly.

"Ah!" She swallowed hard, grasping her lance as tightly as she could. "I – I'm fine. You don't – you need to worry about me."

The soldier shrugged and returned to standing at attention. Amelia glanced around the corridor, marveling at how all the soldiers managed to appear so calm. So… controlled.

There was a sudden crash, and Amelia jumped. "Wha – what was that?"

"…" The soldier by her side shifted his lance slightly. "Sounds like the front gate… it's been breached."

"Breached?" Amelia gasped. "So… so soon? But how-"

"You talk too much, lass." The soldier replied, effectively shutting her up. He shifted the grip on his weapon slightly, turning to face the door.

Keep it together, Amelia. This is your first fight. I can't afford to mess this up. I have to do my best. I… I… She closed her eyes, fighting to keep back tears. I… I want to go home.


Contrary to belief, the front gate had not been breached. Not yet, anyway. What had occurred, however, was the battering ram meeting the reinforced gate head-on, creating a loud crashing noise that radiated out from the point of impact. Franz winced at the harshness of the sound, guiding his horse closer to protect the defenseless soldiers manning the ram.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Forde and Kyle, sword and lance slick with fresh blood. He managed to catch their eye, and motioned for them to go to the aid of the soldier at the ram. Forde nodded and urge his steed to fall in with Neige. Kyle did likewise after slight hesitation.

And apparently not a moment too soon, for a phalanx of knights had already charged to slay those manning the battering ram. Forde, slightly faster than Franz, managed to intercept them first, while Franz and Kyle charged the back of those knights, essentially trapping them in between the three cavaliers of Renais.

Bringing his sword up in an underhand slash, he cut through the gauntleted hand of a soldier, slashing away a couple of fingers and causing him to drop his sword in the process. As the knight cried out in pain, Franz brought his blade up towards the neck.

At the absolute last second, Franz pulled back, letting the silver edge of his sword rest on the neck of the trembling man.

"Yi – yield." The soldier croaked weakly, raising his unmangled hand.

Franz nodded once and rammed his fist into the soldier's forehead. The man's eyes rolled back and he tumbled off his horse. He'd be safe – the battle had already progressed further on.

The battering ram smashed into the main gate a second time, sending another resounding BOOM through the crowd engaged in bloody battle around it. Franz spared a glance to his surroundings, spotted a lance being thrust at him, and instinctively brought his blade up to knock it away.

With a screech of tortured metal, his sword was knocked out of his grasp. Well, at least he had parried the lance-strike. The soldier wielding it grinned. "Tough luck, boy." He sneered, and stabbed forward again.

Leaning forward as far as he could, Franz felt the jagged spearhead tear against the smooth plating of his armour. Urging Neige forward before whirling around, he beheld the same soldier charging him again.

This time, Franz was ready. At the soldier stabbed forward, Franz dodged to the side. Before the soldier could make any move to draw his lance back, Franz had jabbed his elbow into the knight's plate-mailed midsection. A whuf! of air was blown out, and the man slumped in his saddle. As the spear tumbled from his limp grasp, Franz managed to seize it with his right hand, bringing it up to bear against two more footsoldiers who appeared to be rushing him.

Just then, a third crash rocked the area, and all eyes turned to watch as the gates collapsed – the gates of one of the most powerfully built fortress in the land.


The soldier stumbled through the front doors. "They've breached the gates!" He sputtered hoarsely. "They're pouring into the courtyard!"

There was a rise in the amount of murmuring, and Amelia could swear that several of the soldiers around her had turned slightly paler.

"Commander Gheb will need to know of this." One soldier declared.

The messenger paled. Obviously, Commander Gheb was not a man one would want to deliver bad news to, Amelia noted. Then again, after her last encounter with him, she decided that Commander Gheb was not a man one would want to interact with, period.

"What should we do?" Came the question from another soldier, this one a mage. "Do we head out to assist?"

"We were ordered to stay here." The soldier beside Amelia snapped with authority. "We within the fortress comprise the last line of defense for the throne – we cannot afford to move."

Closing her eyes, Amelia prayed fervently that somehow, everything would turn out okay.


As Franz rode into the courtyard, newly acquired spear in hand, he wasted no time he charging up the ramparts, weapon at the ready to bring down the archers that had already brought death to so many of the Frelian troops. Other soldiers apparently had the same idea, and now the outer walls of the fortress was swarming with battle.

Archers had a reputation for being notoriously weak in melee combat, and thus it was left to mages on the walls to pick up the slack. However, the fact that they had to look out for their vulnerable archer allies distracted them, making them relatively easier targets to pick off. In seconds, the line of archers had been decimated, and the survivors were fleeing back into the relative safety of the inner fortress.

Riding down into the courtyard, he noted that what enemy soldiers remained were likewise retreating into the fort itself. The Frelian army had successfully secured the courtyard, then.

"Well, we're halfway there." He noted to his brother, who was busy engaged in the act of wiping off his bloody blade.

"Not quite." Prince Ephraim said as he strode up behind the both of them. He was covered in blood, but from Franz could discern, none of it was his own. He shook his head – just how much had Ephraim practiced to achieve the fighting ability he possessed now?

"If the soldiers know anything at all about strategy, they'll all congregate at a single chokepoint – that way they can hold us back with maximum efficiency – soft of like what you people were doing at Fortress Renvall.

Franz nodded. "So you're saying the toughest part is yet to come."

Ephraim sighed. "Basically. Of course, there's always a chance the enemy commander is too much of an idiot to see the merits of such a battle tactic – but wishful thinking has a way of getting you killed on the battlefield." He gestured for the three cavaliers to fall in behind him. "Come on, let's go. We've got a lot of work to do."

"And by the way, I thought you might want this back." Forde chuckled lightly as he handed Franz back the blade he had dropped earlier. Franz turned a slight shade of pink before mumbling a hasty 'thanks'.

His older brother grinned and turned to spur his horse onwards. After a second's hesitation, Franz did likewise.


The main doors of the fortress were of a sturdy design, but nothing in comparison to the main gates they had just breached. Whoever had constructed Fort Rigwald had gotten the basics of fortress design down pretty well – slits in the front wall made it easy for archers to aim out at the mass of people below, while only the best of archers could hope to hit anything inside. So far, Neimi had been trying her best, but Franz could see the increasing frustration (and exhaustion) on her face. Colm was standing close by, propping up Ross who had a nasty wound in his leg. Father Moulder was already hurrying towards them.

The doors looked to be in bad shape – it was unlikely they'd hold out for much longer. Silently, Franz dismounted Neige. The corridors would likely be narrow – it wouldn't make much sense for a warrior to be riding a horse indoors.

"Stay safe, girl." He whispered as he ran his hand along the soft fur of Neige's neck. The horse whinnied slightly and trotted off.

Turning back to the battle – the doors were already splintering – Franz gripped the hilt of his sword tighter.

And charged.

Arrows whined and zipped about him, the relatively fewer mages preparing and flinging magic spells at their targets. Just as he reached the door, an arrow whistled by his cheek, drawing a thin red line across it.

Wincing at the close call, Franz doubled his pace just as the doors finally gave way.

And then battle was joined.


Amelia winced as she heard the shouts and screams grow ever louder. Swallowing hard, she took a couple of steps backwards. I… I can't do this. I can't.

The other soldiers had quickly begun to assemble themselves, forming a defensive barrier across the narrow corridor. Meanwhile, breathing hard, the young recruit reflexively relaxed and tightened her grip on her lance.

She didn't know what to do! She didn't know anything about fighting, beyond the idea that sticking the sharp and pointy end of her weapon into the enemy's soft and fleshy bits was probably a good one.

What had they told her about the Frelian soldiers, again? Horrid, cruel, beasts… They'll butcher anyone in their path mercilessly… if they actually do take anyone prisoner, they'll burn that person alive… Trembling violently, Amelia shook her head, trying to clear away the mental images that swarmed within.

It didn't do much good, and ahead of her was a far more dreadful sight – the Frelian army battering down the doors, and the soldiers of Frelia pouring into the fort, engaging the Grado defenders in battle.

Paralysis seemingly gripped her again – there was no way, absolutely no way, she could do anything against-

Her eyes caught one of the Frelian knights – encased in armour the colour of verdant spring – had swiveled around, and was now facing off against a trio of swordfighters, his back to Amelia.

Could this be? Such an obvious chance presented to her almost seemed too good to be true, but Amelia wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Shifting her lance into a battle-ready position (at least, she hoped it was a battle-ready position), she started for the knight, trying her best not to get noticed.


Franz's eyes narrowed in concentration, his sword little more than shining blur as he attempted to find an opening in the swordplay of the two soldiers he was facing. Originally three had chosen to gang up on him, and Franz hadn't had a good premonition about how that battle was likely to turn out, but Forde had managed to waylay one and had probably dealt with the unlucky swordfighter already.

As for his current foes, well…

Parrying a vertical blow, Franz lashed out with his foot, catching one soldier in the midsection. As he stumbled, Franz whirled, slapping the other soldier with the flat of his blade and sending him sprawling. First one down…

As the soldier who had just been kicked struggled to get to his feet, Franz chopped the back of his neck with an outstretched palm. Second one down.

Another small victory in a seemingly endless series of fights. Franz sighed, taking a half-step back. Then his eyes narrowed.

Someone was attempting to sneak up behind him (and doing a pretty poor job of it, too). Flipping his blade into a ready position, he whirled, bringing his sword up to block whatever his enemy would attempt to attack him with.

A silver lance that had been aimed at his chest was deflected, almost knocked out of his opponent's hands. And for that opponent apparently hadn't centered himself well –the force of the impact caused him to stumble backwards, almost falling –

But something seemed strange…

As his opponent grimaced, Franz frowned.


Okay, the first attack hadn't gone so well… Amelia winced. But she could do it! She had to!

Bringing her lance up again, she started to advance when she noticed her foe had lowered his weapon and was staring at her with a mixture of shock and incredulity.

"You…" He started. "But… you're … you're a girl…" He finished lamely.

Amelia could feel her cheeks burning red. She had had it with people looking down on her! "Don't mock me!" She snapped. "I'm a soldier of Grado. Take this-" She paused, unhappily aware that doing so made her look ridiculous, but she was running a rather large blank on nasty slurs with which to call him. Finally settling on the first one that came up, she continued, "Frelian dog!" And lunged.

He brought his sword up, but instead of clashing with her, he used it to intercept her lance, and with a hooking motion sent it flying out of her hands. Amelia barely had time to register this before she found herself impacting the ground rather hard, rolling slightly as she did so.

"Ah! Ow…" She mumbled. Suddenly, she became aware of her opponent coming up beside her. A wave of panic washed over Amelia, and hurriedly she tried to get to her feet-

"OW!" She howled in pain as she tried to use her hands to boost herself. A fiery pain seared its way into her hand, and she jerked it away from the floor instinctively, blinking back tears. The angle of her fall… had she sprained something?

Ah! He was already directly beside her! She had to do something, and fast, before he… before he… began to… tend to her wound?

Amelia blinked with confused fright as he cradled her injured arm far more gently than she would have believed possible. Reaching into the satchel that hung by his side, he quickly drew out a swathe of bandages.

"This may hurt a bit." He said in a low voice, and, right there, a vicious battle raging around them, he proceeded to bind her wrist tightly. Amelia hissed with pain as he tugged on the cloth, but was otherwise silent.

"I think you pulled something." He said as he gently helped her to her feet. "If you hold your lance like that, you're going to fall over a whole lot." He smiled sheepishly. "I did that way too much in training. And, well, I think I still do that more often than should."

"Um…" Amelia was tongue-tied. What was going on? This was one of the Frelian soldiers! She'd heard countless tales of their savagery and brutality in battle, and they never showed kindness. Certainly they didn't go out of their way to treat their enemy's injuries! And yet… and yet, this enemy… this soldier had done just that.

"Y- you…" She stammered, trying to make sense of it all.

Apparently, he misunderstood the intent of her remark, for his smile became more inviting. "I'm, uh, my name's Franz. I'm a knight of Renais. What's yours?"

She glanced away instinctively, feeling her cheeks heat up. This wasn't… what was going on?

"Franz!" A knight dressed in crimson armour jogged up to the both of them. "The corridor's secure – most of the enemy are retreating to the inner sanctum. Are you coming or…" He trailed off as he caught sight of Amelia. "And who's this?" He inquired. She cringed, backing away. 'Franz' may have treated her kindly in the short time he'd known her, but she had no way to tell if any of the other enemy soldiers would see fit to do the same.

"She's… uh, she's from Grado, apparently…" He turned to her, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm, uh… I'm not really sure about anything else…"

The knight in crimson armour turned to face her with a skeptical look on his face. She swallowed hard and tried to stand her ground. After a moment or so, he turned away with a shrug.

"Don't ask, don't tell. I'll be ahead with the others, alright?" In seconds, he was gone.

Only then did Amelia look around and realize that the battle had moved on from the entrance. Any Grado soldiers that weren't dead were busy being tended to by several healer-types. Amelia shook her head. This was nothing like what she had expected. "I, uh…" She mumbled.

"So… what's your name?"

"I'm… I'm Amelia. I'm a soldier of Grado." She glanced around, looking at the quiet that had settled so quickly after the chaos. "And…" She gave a tiny shrug of resignation. "I guess I'm your prisoner, huh?"

"Wha-? No! I mean…" He coughed. "I mean, well, yes, you're a prisoner on a technicality, but… it's not like that…"

"No, it's alright…" She glanced down to the ground where her weapon lay unattended. "I'm…" She sighed. "I'm actually kinda relieved."

"What? Did they force you into service or something?"

"N- no. Nothing like that. It's only…" She gave a sad chuckle. "You saw how I fought. If you hadn't… um… if you hadn't helped me… I'd be...

She lapsed into silence.


Franz nodded. "I understand. Well, don't worry too much. We won't treat you badly."

She nodded, albeit hesitantly. Satisfied, Franz turned, reaching for the lance on the ground.

"Uh…" Her soft voice floated up. He turned back, catching Amelia in the process of looking terribly embarassed, hesitant, fearful, yet determined at the same time. "I mean…" She began softly. "That… my lance…"

He gazed down at the weapon. It was built delicately, but it was obvious from the make and craft that it was indeed a masterfully crafted weapon. No way this weapon had come from some general armoury.

"It's precious to you, isn't it?" He asked, and was replied to with a soft nod. He got the impression that there was more – a whole lot more, in fact – that she wished to say, only she wasn't too sure about pushing it.

"I'll take good care of it. I promise." He told her, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He paused. Somehow, he felt as if something more needed to be said…

"Trust me." The words came out of his mouth so easily that he scarce registered actually saying them. Amelia's eyes widened at this, and then became hooded, her gaze flitting from side to side as she waged an internal war with herself.

Finally, she nodded, and a hint of a smile appeared on her face. "Alright. I'll trust you… Franz."

For some reason he wasn't certain about, he found himself smiling back.


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