No Longer Alone


Eh. Quick update while I'm back on Chinese New Year break. Hope you enjoy it.

I'd also like to include a note that some of you might have noticed the absence of several characters showing up – such as L'Arachel and her lovable vassals. Yeah, I'm splitting up the character joinings between Ephraim and Eirika's route, for the sake of storyline. So without further ado, onwards with the story!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


"All right, listen up, everyone." Ephraim cast a stern countenance over the soldiers assembled in front of him. "In a little less than two hours we will be making landfall at Taizel. The enemy will be waiting for us there with every intention of preventing us from ever setting foot on solid land. So, naturally we're going to have to find some way around that. General Duessel – you might know him as the Obsidian – has drawn up a rough plan of battle." The Renaitian lord nodded, indicating Duessel to come forward, which he did.

"All right – Taizel is a port town, like Bethroen. However, it differs significantly insofar that it sees a far greater amount of traffic on a daily basis, and is thus much busier, not to mention far more heavily populated. Standard battle procedure is to get noncombatants indoors before the festivities begin. The Grad defenders should have had ample time to accomplish this." Duessel heaved a sigh. "The majority of you here are Frelian soldiers, some Renaitian, and a few – a precious few – from Grado itself. I know that you are angry – angry at Emperor Vigarde for starting this war, angry at the soldiers at Grado for having taken so much from you, angry at all of Grado itself for not having suffered like you have. But please – absolutely no noncombatant casualties, if at all possible. This land has seen enough bloodshed already."

Standing in formation, Amelia listened silently to the aged general. She supposed she understood what he felt – she was already uneasy enough about fighting Grad soldiers, never mind cowering women or children. Back in Bethroen, the initial shock of Grad soldiers trying to kill General Duessel had led to a numbing – a mental disconnect, of sorts – where she hadn't actually felt like she was facing Grad soldiers loyal to the crown after all. Now, though…

Snap out of it. She told herself, and she returned her attention to what the general was saying.

"They'll have hade time to bulk up their defenses," Duessel was saying. "Like it or not, this is the current frontline of the war, or at least the most significant one. They also want as many of us dead before they ever have to face us in hand to hand combat. With that in mind, we're looking at projectile weaponry bombarding us while we're still far out at sea. Arrows, spells…"

"I've already sent word for the mages to place protective wards around the ships in order to prevent their catching on fire." Ephraim cut in.

Duessel nodded. "Grado's stronger mage divisions should be off preparing for an assault on Rausten – even if they've been recalled, they wouldn't have reached Taizel in time to face us. We should be safe from magic annihilating our ships. The danger here are arrows.

"As said before, Grado will want to kill as many of us as possible before we ever reach the port – with that in mind, arrows by the hundreds are going to be pouring into the ships, as well as catapults trying to knock open holes in our vessels – and I wouldn't be surprised to see a number of wyverns diving down on us."

Amelia caught sight of several of the soldiers exchanging nervous glances, and she supposed she could hardly blame them. Her own stomach seemed to be twisting itself into knots."

"The more heavily armoured soldiers will be topside – they'll be there to fend off aerial attacks and to protect the ship's crew. Those lacking in bodily protection will, meanwhile, be waiting within the ship's interior, anticipating the command to charge – which will be given once we dock. The army has been separated into three primary groups, and I trust you know your own groupings. The first team is to rush the catapults and ballistas and disable them – if possible, in such a manner that they can later be salvaged for our own use. The second team is to quickly form a defensive perimeter around the dock area so as to allow the later ships to enter quickly. The last group is to attempt an offensive action to seize control of the town from Grado. Failing that, they are to merge with groups one and two as situation dictates. That is the worst-case scenario. We need a quick victory here, gentleman. If they get the time to fortify to Za'abul marshes from attack, we'll be in for a long, hard slog when what we really need to do is reach the capital as fast as is humanly possible." The General paused, his weathered gaze sweeping over the assembled soldiers. "Any questions?"

There were none, although Amelia could detect some subdued muttering in the crowds.

"Right then, you may disperse until the call to arms is sounded. I trust you've received your individual, more detailed battle plans. Dismissed."

As the soldiers slowly began to break up, Amelia glanced down at her tunic. She had yet to receive a new set of armour – probably a breakdown in the logistics somewhere, and she supposed that would place her firmly in the camp of 'not heavily armoured'.

Idly, she wondered which category Franz fit into.


"You'll be staying belowdecks with Amelia, of course." Forde said without looking up.

Franz nodded in affirmation as he sat down beside his brother. "I'm not like one of the armour knights – I rely more on trying to dodge hits than in soaking them up. So… yeah, below."

"That wasn't really the answer I had in mind." Forde chuckled. "I meant that even if you did fit into the category of those who stood a better than usual chance of surviving the arrows, you'd insist on staying close to your fair maiden."

"Why didn't I see the jab coming?" Franz mumbled. "Yes, Forde, I will be staying close to Amelia. I will protect her."

"Such devotion!" Forde smirked. "What about your own flesh and blood kin, then, brother?"

"As if you needed protection from anything." Franz muttered sourly.

"Don't worry, little brother," The crimson-clad knight flashed him an easy smile. "You'll be at my level in no time."

Before Franz could offer a reply, there was the sound of a blaring horn and instantly every soldier leapt to attention, the two brothers included.

"TO ARMS!" The bellow surged along the ship, the signal being spread to the entire convoy that carried the entirety of the Frelian army.

"Time to go."

Quickly, the two of them descended into the interior of the ship. Cramped and stuffy at the best of times, being filled with countless people, most of whom were decked out in battle armour, made it nigh unbearable.

Still, it couldn't be helped. As Franz took the last step off the wooden stairs, he spied a flash of golden hair.

"Amelia…" As quickly as possible, he wended his way through the crowd. As she caught sight of him, a smile spread across her features.

"Franz! I was wondering where you'd went off to. So…" she paused. "You'll be staying belowdecks, right?"

"Sure," he smiled back at her. "Don't worry – I'll be close by at all times."

She nodded, although Franz detected something akin to regret passing briefly over her features. "That's good." She said softly. "That's good."

And then silence descended around the two of them as they waited.


After having been defeated in two successive battles against Ephraim's forces, the Grad army was understandably anxious about the fact that Ephraim planned to carry out a seaborne invasion of Taizel.

And so it was that as the seagoing vessels approached, a storm erupted from the shore, a storm whose single focus was to prevent the soldiers onboard the vessels from ever taking a single step on Grad soil again.

Within the hold of foremost ship, Amelia resisted the urge to wince as she heard the sound of arrows being fired into the ship in endless waves. She knew the tough wooden hide of the vessel would be enough to withstand the arrows, but she winced all the same.

What worried her more, though, were the ballistas and catapults. While it was acknowledged that they were horribly inaccurate, a single shot finding its mark would devastate the ship structural integrity, which was a fancy way of saying that the hull would be torn to pieces.

The ship shuddered, and Amelia winced again. Oh, why did it have to take so long for them to reach port? Down here in the hold, she could see nothing of how the battle above was progressing – whether the Frelian knights were holding their own, winning, or losing badly. She couldn't see anything of the battle.

And so instead she chose to look at Franz.

It only made sense, after all. Glancing around wildly only brought anxiety – looking at his gentle, open face brought a sense of peace, however slight and fleeting.

Franz was watching the exit to the hold, his face impassive even as the ship rocked and swayed. He barely seemed to notice – based on the expression in his eyes, his thoughts were a million miles away.

Then abruptly the ship jerked, far more strongly than any time prior, and for a moment Amelia feared that they had been hit by a ballista bolt or a catapult's boulder, but no, it hadn't felt like the ship had taken a hit, it felt more like…

"LANDFALL!" Came the bellow. "Everybody, OUT!"

Amelia didn't need to be told twice. Under ordinary circumstances, all the soldiers in the ship rushing out at the same time would have caused a massive logjam. But this had already been drilled into the soldiers prior, and so they exited in neat rows of six, trusting their on-deck brethren to cover them while they were still unable to defend themselves.

And it was in such a manner that Amelia leaped back into the sunlight, Franz at her side, lance in hand, ready to defend herself from an Grad soldiers that might attack her-

What she was most certainly not ready for, however, was the sight of a humongous spider sinking its fangs into the figure of the doomed soldier that had exited right ahead of her.

"What in-" She began, but before she could continue her question, the soldier's screams of agony abruptly ceased, and the spider released the limp corpse. Amelia just barely stifled a scream of horror as the cadaver rolled slightly, allowing her to see the blank empty eyes, and the strange grey rot that appeared around the wounds where the spider had bitten it. Whatever venom the creature kept in its fangs was obviously a potent one.

Around her soldiers were already hacking at the thick hide of the beast, but the creature barely seemed to notice, continuing its rampage across the ship's deck, occasionally lifting one of its spindly legs to kick away soldiers that were giving it more trouble than usual.

"A Bael…" She heard Franz mutter. Silently she wondered how he knew the name of the creature, and a moment later she decided that it really was the sort of thing that should be saved for later. Raising her lance, she gave him a questioning look, and upon his returning nod, the two of them set out for the overgrown beast.

They got two steps before gargoyles swooped down on them. Well, two gargoyles swooped down on Amelia. Franz, meanwhile, was caught off guard by the determined advance of a wyvern rider.

Amelia's eyes widened, but she had no time before she was forced to defend herself against the two creatures. Fortunately, one of them had already suffered earlier injury from fighting some other soldier, and was easy to remove from the fight. The other continued to face off against her until an errant arrow shot pierced the bat-creature's throat, killing it.

Granted reprieve for a moment, Amelia gazed wildly at the scene around her. Everywhere she could see around her, monsters and soldiers, both from Frelia and Grado teemed. In the sky, Pegasi, wyverns, and gargoyles rose and fell in a deadly dance. She paused, panting, staring in particular at a skirmish within visible range. It was hard to say for certain, but it looked like – it truly, truly did look like – the monsters – they were – working in tandem – with – with…

No. Amelia shook her head violently, trying to dislodge the thought from her mind. The monsters were a freak occurrence, a chance blight upon the land. The soldiers… my countrymen… they could not possibly be allied with these monsters…

They could not.

And yet reality refused to be denied. Any corpse that fell bearing wounds made from the fiends was invariably from the side of the Frelian army. No Grad soldier felt the bite from the lance of a gargoyle, from the fangs of the Baels, or from the rotten claws of the zombies. Some of the monsters even threw themselves in front of Grad soldiers, shielding them from attack.

"God preserve us." She heard the whispered prayer from behind her, and as she turned and beheld Natasha, the Grad priestess' face white, she knew her friend had come to the same conclusion.

The two deserters from Grado stood and stared each other, shaken by the enormity of the realization. Everything – everything – that Amelia had believed in or held dear about her beloved country seemed to now be in flux.

Yet there was still a battle to be fought, and Amelia wheeled, bringing her lance up once more. Determination shone in her eyes. If she could trust nothing from her own country, there were still other lifelines from with the cling on.

Neimi. Natasha. Ross. General Duessel. Lord Ephraim.

Franz.

For them she would fight. With a cry, as much of anguish as of raw determination, she charged into the fray.


The wyvern rider had been knocked into the water, his mount disabled, and now Franz turned to other matters – such as putting down the rogue Bael that was still wreaking havoc amongst the soldiers.

Baels were understandably rare in the lowlands – they preferred the craggy mountains, which their eight legs were well suited to traversing. Franz had heard stories of bandit encampments being wiped out by Baels that chanced upon the hideouts. Still, they usually saw little reason to venture further down – which meant that their doing so now was likely the result of someone manipulating them.

As if that wasn't obvious enough anyway. Franz thought as he slashed the head off a revenant that had chanced on him. The conversation he'd had with Natasha over Emperor Vigarde's role in the monster's appearance was weighing heavily on him, and given the scene before him, it was pretty damned obvious that, somehow or other, Grado was involved in the monster's disappearance.

A Grad soldier leapt at him, sword already drawn. Franz dodged the blow, swinging around to nail his elbow into the back of the soldier's neck.

Neige would still be housed in the stables of the ship… maybe once they'd established a perimeter and could get back onto dry land he could bring her out. Until then, however…

He neared the Bael, who was still unaware of Franz's presence. Then again, he supposed the numerous soldiers jabbing weapons at its thick hide (with noticeably little effect) would serve as a rather handy distraction.

Putting all of his strength into his swing, he slashed at one of the Bael's legs.

The exoskeleton of the Bael served as excellent body armour, and as such Franz failed to cut all the way through the leg. Nevertheless green blood spewed from the mark, and the Bael stumbled, suddenly forced to rebalance itself.

Darting forward, he whirled to look the Bael in the… well, he could only assume it was an eye, and he stabbed down at it. The creature shrieked and convulsed.

Elsewhile, the rest of the Frelian soldiers were finally making some headway in hacking their way through the Bael's body, and as the wounds piled up, the spider's movements became less and less, until they final ceased.

Stepping back with a groan of exertion, Franz allowed himself a grin of exuberance as he belied the fallen creature. Nodding in satisfaction, he turned around, seeking Amelia.

After several long moments, he realized that she was nowhere to be seen.


Amelia got the distinct feeling that she had gone and done something rather foolish by rushing off into the press of Frelian soldiers. Her job, after all, had been to secure the dock, not the town area.

Now, though, she was near the town square, following orders she recognized as not her own, and facing off against a determined squad of both soldiers and monsters.

She stabbed forward, slaying one of the floating eyeball things as she did so. The defenders of the town were better organized than they had expected, and the going was hard.

Wish you were here, Franz. She thought to herself as she continued her fight. I'd feel much safer with you at my side. Almost as soon as the thought came up, she tried to dismiss. She'd promised herself. She had to grow stronger. She couldn't keep being a burden to him.

Another one of the skeleton soldiers. Amelia smashed in its skull with the heavy point of her weapon. Thus far she had limited her fights to the monstrosities. Most of the smaller ones were far easier kills than a Grad soldier, and the thought of raising her weapon against her countrymen still unnerved her more than she was willing to admit. That there were alternative targets for her was a good thing, she supposed.

And then she felt pain explode in her side, and she stumbled. As she turned, she saw a revenant standing there, its outstretched right hand slick with wet blood. Her blood.

Of course… the revenant's claws, which should have been too weak to pierce armour, could easily tear through the tunic she was wearing. Risking a quick glance down, her heart pulsed with alarm at the realization that the wound was a serious one, and would require medical attention – and fast.

The revenant growled something unintelligible, and raised its other clawed arm. Quickly, Amelia shifted her lance into position, taking aim at the zombie's head –

And then she jerked back as the right portion of the zombie's head exploded in a blast of light.

She stood there, staring dumbly as the creature's remains flopped to the ground. And from behind her, she heard a cheery, perky voice.

"Whew, that was a close one! Good thing I got the spell off in time. I'm still not entirely one-hundred percent certain on how to cast it reliably, but hey, it worked, didn't it? That's what matters!"

She turned, catching sight of a young lad about her age with a shock of flame-coloured hair. As he neared her, his eyes widened.

"Sheez! That's a nasty wound you've got there. Wait, lessee… Master hasn't taught me any healing magics yet, but I've got this." Mumbling, he pulled a blue vial from the pouch at his waist.

"Here, use this. It's an Elixir. It'll fix up that wound in no time. Honest!"

Hesitantly, Amelia accepted the vial from the lad, and splashed some of it over the bleeding wound. There was the initial sting, but like when a vulnerary was used, it soon faded. Unlike using a vulnerary, however, the healing effects were much more potent. In seconds, the wound had closed.

"Wow." She mumbled as she handed the bottle back to the now-grinning youth. "Thanks a lot, um…" She paused, suddenly aware that she had no idea what the boy's name was.

"Aw, it was no bother!" He winked at her. "I just love saving damsels in distress, after all."

Amelia grinned despite herself. "Uh… I'm sorry, but what's your name?"

"Hm? Oh!" The boy thrust his chest out proudly. "I'm Ewan! I'm a student of the Mountain Sage, Saleh!" Whoever Saleh was, Ewan certainly took pride in his association with that man.

"Oh. Well, it's nice to meet you… Ewan." Silently, Amelia rolled the syllables around in her mind.

Ewan.

She rather liked that name.


Chapter End


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