No Longer Alone


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"So you live up in Caer Paelyn? That's… that's a really long way away from here, isn't it?" Amelia questioned as she dug into the meal before her.

"Yeah, I guess. Practically halfway across the continent, if my geography lessons serve." Ewan shrugged as he lifted his mug and drank. "I'm used to traveling, though. Ever since I was a kid I followed my sister around – when she joined up with that mercenary band I told you about, I just tagged along until I caught the attention of Master Saleh."

"You mentioned him before…"

"Uh-huh." Ewan grinned. "He's my teacher. People call him the Mountain Sage because he lives in Caer Paelyn and he's really smart."

Well, it's a good thing that he didn't live in a more ordinary place. "Town Sage" just doesn't have the same ring to it. The thought bubbled up in Amelia's mind, but she wisely chose not to say it out loud. She knew hero worship well enough – after all, she was certain it applied pretty closely to her and General Duessel – to see that Ewan held his mentor in very, very high regard. Sort of the way Franz behaved whenever he talked about Renais' General Seth, she mused.

"So, he's a mage, then?" She said instead.

"Yup!" The redhead nodded enthusiastically. "He taught me everything I know about magic," he paused. "Which, well, admittedly still isn't that much, but I'm learning!"

Amelia nodded, taking a sip from her own drink. "So…" She began hesitantly. "Is magic difficult?"

"Well, you kinda need an affinity for it in the first place – that's how Master Salen decided to train me. He said I had the potential." Ewan let out a shy grin.

"Heh…" Amelia chuckled. "I wonder if I have any potential for magic, then."

"Who knows." Ewan shrugged. Then he paused. "Hey, want me to show you some magic?"

"H- here? Now?" Amelia blurted out. Instinctively, she glanced around the crowded tavern. "Wouldn't that be kinda… dangerous?"

Ewan laughed at that. "No, no… not at all! Not all magic is used for fighting, you know. For example, you can use magic to do… this!" Suddenly the area around the two of them was filled with dozens of shimmering, glowing multicoloured orbs that weaved through the air in a breathtaking display of light.

"Wow…" Amelia breathed out as she gazed over at the dazzling array. "That's… that's magic too?"

"Uh huh." Ewan's grin became sly. "That's magic used to make girls happy."

"Ewan…" The lancer shot the young mage a look, though she couldn't keep the tiny smirk off her face. "Stop making fun."

"All right, all right." Ewan shrugged. "I just thought you'd want a bit of cheering up, especially after how you behaved this afternoon."

Amelia stared down at her food. "The way this war is going…?" She sighed. "I don't really think getting cheered up is a good idea."

"Hey, now. That's just asking for trouble." Ewan shook his head. "Look, Amelia, the whole continent's a mess right now, that's true. That's not going to change for a while, either. But you can always try to smile, even when it gets really bad."

"Easier said than done, Ewan," She said softly. "It'll be a long time before I can smile in the face of such… such chaos, such devastation."

Ewan nibbled at his lip thoughtfully. "That's true. So maybe you don't start with the whole war. Start with… I dunno, smaller things. Hey, Amelia, do you like training sessions?"

"Huh?" Amelia blinked, startled by the suddenness of the question. "W-well, I'm glad that I have the opportunity to grow stronger, of course. I don't want to a liability on the field. But… well, it's tiring, and I usually ache a lot after a session."

"Well, do you think you could find a way to start enjoying it more?" Ewan's expression on his face plainly suggested that he was up to something, but Amelia hadn't the faintest inkling what. "A way to… make it fun?"

"Make it fun?" She repeated. "Ewan… I – where are you going with this?"

"Change your perspective. Challenge yourself. Every moment now is a moment you're never going to get again in the future, so you might as well enjoy it." Ewan grinned. "My sister taught me that a long time ago. You should try it yourself sometime." Saying so, he pushed his chair back and began to leave the table. "See you later, Amelia."

As he left, Amelia sat in her chair, musing over what Ewan had just told her. "How I make things fun…" She murmured to herself. Come to think of it, that's kind of like how my rivalry with Franz works, right? It helps the both of us to grow stronger together and it feels less like work too. Amelia shrugged to herself as she swallowed the last bite of her meal. "Well, it's worth a try."


Guard duty was a task as inevitable as it was boring. Security could never afford to be compromised, and as such, many nights were spent by the foot soldiers of the Frelian army staring out at vast swathes of nothing.

Franz sighed to himself as he stood his post, staring out at the land before him. Behind him, the town buzzed with the comings and goings that marked it as housing an army within its limits.

Just beyond the lights of the town, the lands ahead faded into inky blackness. It was… quiet. Peaceful, really.

In a few days – a week, at absolute most – they'd be on the march once more, heading towards for the capital of Grado. The young knight closed his eyes and sighed. He'd never shied away from the fighting before, and he wasn't going to start now, but…

Oh, right. No closing of eyes while on guard duty. Hastily opening them again, Franz resumed his vigil. Well, at any rate his shift should be over soon, and then he could turn in for the night...

It was true that he'd never had a crisis of conscience like Amelia had, and he knew that he certainly wasn't going through anything as difficult as she was right now, but…

Behind every helmet is a face. Every face has a name, and every name has a story.

If he were killed in the next battle, the person who did that probably wouldn't be doing it out of malice, hatred for Renais or Franz, or anything of that sort.

A lot of the reasons the Grad soldiers fought were obvious. They had been ordered to. It was kill or be killed. They simply wanted to defend their homeland.

He couldn't fault them for that. After, he himself fought largely for the same reasons.

But there was one other reason he fought, and he wasn't sure if the Grads had the same conviction.

He fought because he believed he was doing the right thing.

Do the… do the Grad soldiers truly believe what they're doing is right? Do they rationalize it away, or just try not to think about it? How could they possibly justify allying themselves with monsters of darkness?

Franz pursed his lips. He knew Natasha had left Grado because she could no longer believe in the Emperor and his actions. And while the circumstances of Amelia leaving the Grad army had been markedly different, she now fought for Renais because she believed it was the right thing to do.

The right thing…

The continent was caught up in a vast, treacherous conflict, that much was clear. And it was most certainly bigger than him.

Just do what you can. He told himself. If we all do our part, then we'll pull through in the end.

And speaking of everyone doing their part… Franz was pretty sure his relief was supposed to be here by now.

As if summoned by his thoughts, two figures slowly made their way over. Franz quirked a smile at both of them.

"Hi, Forde, Kyle."

"That's Sir Forde to you, youngling." Forde shot back jokingly. "Kyle here's next on the schedule, and I decided to pop by for a bit as well."

Franz nodded and stepped aside to let the green-haired knight take his place. "How're you holding up, Franz?" Kyle looked over at him. "You're still a rookie in terms of years-"

"Months, Kyle. Months. Franz here hasn't even been a knight for a year yet."

"Give me… oh, two weeks and three days." Franz rolled his eyes. "Anyway, you were saying, Kyle?"

"Right. You're still the most junior out of all the Renais knights still available for service, but your combat ability is on par with most of the seniors – astonishingly so, in fact."

"W- well," Franz stammered. I'm not that good, am I? "General Seth was willing to train me personally, so maybe some of his techniques rubbed off, or… or something."

"Guess it could be in the blood." Forde grinned. "Me and Franz, we've got the potential."

Kyle and Franz rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Back to my question… while it is certainly a marvel to see your performance on the field of battle, I have to wonder if you're holding up to the strain of prolonged combat. Some things can only be mastered through experience, after all."

Franz chuckled sadly. "It's a draining experience, true. No need to worry, though. I'll be fine. I'm strong enough to handle this." At least, I HAVE to be. For everyone's sake.

Forde shrugged. "You've got the same problem as Kyle here – you just don't know how to relax. Take some time off – forget about fighting. I haven't seen you go fishing recently."

"Fishing?" Franz looked at his brother incredulously. "In the middle of a war?"

"Yes, in the middle of a war. The fish don't suddenly vanish from the streams because men clad in metal are beating the giblets out of one another, you know."

"Just because you have a penchant for painting in the middle of a battle-"

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Forde's grin remained as sterling as ever.

"I'm of the opinion that Forde's idea has some merit to it." Kyle said thoughtfully. "When you have some downtime, finding a quiet place to partake in a hobby you like is of great value… a respite for the soul, if you wish to call it that."

"What he said." Forde rejoined, pointing to Kyle. "Not to mention that if you catch something, we all get fresh fish for dinner! Everybody wins!"

"Ah, yes. I should have known that your massive appetite would have had something to do with this." Franz sighed. "Well, maybe I'll go fishing one of these days if I've ever the time, but right now I want to lie down and not know anything until tomorrow."

"Well then, sleep soundly, little brother. May your slumber be filled with pleasant dreams of a certain blonde-haired recruit."

Franz kicked a pebble in his brother's general direction and returned to his lodgings.


Holding training sessions early in the morning was a matter of simple logic. The earlier you got up, the less time you spent under the blazing sun, thus leading to less discomfort.

It was following this train of thought that led Amelia out into the centre of the courtyard in the blackest hours of morning, clutching only her training staff in her hands.

Of course, the call to rise would soon be sounded amongst the soldiers, and then the day's regimented training sessions could begin. But for now, there was just her.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Amelia began moving into a series of feints, strikes, parries, general combat moves.

Half step forward, swing up, pull back, raise to block… As her body became accustomed to the maneuvers, even these simple thoughts ceased. There was just her and her weapon, moving in an intricate dance.

Just her and her weapon.

Just her.

"You've improved a lot since we first met, lass."

"Wha-!" Whirling, she caught sight of General Duessel sitting on a nearby bench, looking steadily at her. Quickly, she pulled herself into a salute. "G – good morning, General!" She blurted out.

"At ease." The Obsidian said softly as he stood. "Indeed, your stance, form, and movements hold more strength in them," he nodded. "You've grown a lot."

"Th- thanks." She murmured. "But I – I'm still nothing compared to someone like you, General. In a battle, it feels like… like I'm just doing all I can to stay alive."

Duessel nodded, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know what you mean, girl. It still seems like yesterday that every enemy I ever faced was my superior in combat ability."

"Really?" Mentally, Amelia tried to picture Duessel as a fresh-faced, inexperienced recruit. She had a fair amount of difficulty doing so.

"Yes, really." The aged General said with the ghost of a smile on his face.

"Well, m- most everyone else in this army looks up to you, General." Amelia stammered. She knew that getting so tongue-tied wasn't helping her appearance in from of the General, but she couldn't help it. Just talking to him was overwhelming enough. As she glanced up at him, however, she noticed that he had a small frown on his face. "General Duessel?" she began hesitantly. "Is… something the matter?"

"Hm? No, no, not at all. It's just…" he sighed. "I'm sure I've seen your face before, I just can't remember where."

Amelia frowned at that. While she had kept up as much as she could with the General's exploits and deeds, it was inconceivable to her that he would recognize her face. "I… I'm not sure either," she confessed. "I never saw you in person before the recruitment line."

"Hm, well, I'm sure it'll come to me if it were important." Duessel dismissed the issue. "Anyway, Amelia, it's good that you're dedicated to your training, but pace yourself, all right? It won't do you any good to exhaust yourself."

"I know, General. But… well, I just want to get stronger, so I have to keep training, don't I?"

"Yes, I suppose you do." He chuckled. "Well, if you've any free time, you can come find me and I'll try to teach you a bit of what I know."

"H- huh?" She jerked back, stunned. "M- me? Your student?" She squeaked. "I – really?"

"I recall telling you before that I'm not in the habit of making jokes," Duessel quirked a smile. "The offer's open for whenever you need it, lass." With a slight wave goodbye, Duessel turned and walked away, leaving Amelia behind to ponder.


Hm… I should probably make it a bit lighter than my own… Franz mused as he continued working on the satchel. Free time was a valued commodity amongst any army, and though Franz suspected that Prince Ephraim was more flexible on such issues than most commanders, he was still glad for the opportunity to simply sit and be with himself.

"Hey, whatcha up to?" A familiar voice floated up behind him and Franz turned in his seat to see Ewan walking up to him, a curious expression on his face.

"Hi." Franz said to the mage. "And as for your question, I'm making a satchel for one of the clerics."

"Sounds… uh, interesting."

"Indeed it does."

A silence descended upon the two of them until Franz finally looked up again. "Look, is there any reason in particular you're here?"

Ewan blinked. "Well, no, not really. I just wanted to see what you were doing."

"Okay then…" Franz returned to his work, with Ewan silently observing. Then, after a few seconds the mage spoke up again.

"What's it like?"

"Huh?"

"Being a soldier and all. Your lives always seem so… regimented and strict."

"…Aren't you a mercenary of sorts?" Franz raised an eyebrow. "You should be at least somewhat familiar with the sort of things a soldier does."

"Yeah, but, well…" Ewan rubbed the back of his head. "Life in the merc camps are usually a lot more relaxed. A lot of them just lounge around, train when they feel like it, get into brawls, and, I dunno… hang loose. There's the exceptions like Marisa – she's almost always training – but by and large, they live at their own pace."

Which is why mercenaries generally aren't as good fighters as actual soldiers. Franz chose not to articulate that particular thought. No sense in potentially antagonizing the young mage. "Well," he began. "I agree that our lives here follow more rigid schedules than most, but you get used to it pretty quickly. At least, you have to do that if you want to keep up." He grinned. "Most people are tougher than they'd think – even villagers like Neimi and Colm have adjusted to it well enough." Although Colm did so with his fair share of grumbling, of course…

"Huh." Ewan let out a resigned sigh. "Guess I should get used to predawn reveilles, huh?"

"More or less." Franz said dryly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm getting back to my satchel."

"Oh, sure. Sorry to bother you, and all…"

"Nah, no problem."

And as Ewan left to find something else to occupy his time with, Franz continued measuring, cutting, and sewing.

Nice town. Good supply of materials. He thought. Pity we'll be leaving it soon.

Just then, the door to the room was flung open and Kyle appeared at the entrance.

"Franz! Get your things and be ready to move in full battle order in fifteen minutes!" And then he was gone.

Okay, sooner than anticipated. Franz hurriedly swept his project into the bag he had been using to carry the materials. As he hurried to prepare himself, he silently wondered just what was causing such a rush.


Chapter End


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