No Longer Alone
This update took longer than expected thanks to my keyboard getting busted; I had to send it in for servicing, and now I'm down 85 Singaporean dollars. Oh well. New chapter's up. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"I settle down for a nap and two minutes later they're ordering us to fall in with full battle gear." Amelia muttered to herself as she hurtled down the stairs of the inn, frantically fastening her belt buckle.
She was almost out the door when she heard the sound of her name being called. Pausing, she turned to regard the innkeeper, who was walking over to her, cradling a rather bulky package.
Ah, right. My new breastplate. She'd placed the order a couple of days back. Not that there was any time now to open it and look…
Grabbing it (and belatedly remembering that these things were usually rather heavy), she nodded her thanks to the innkeeper before hurrying out the door. Soldiers usually learnt very quickly that keeping their commanders waiting was not a good idea.
As she stumbled out into the sunlight of the town square, she caught sight of the rapidly assembling mass of soldiers and quickened her pace.
"Amelia!"
She had two seconds to reflect on how people particularly liked interrupting her today as she turned around to regard a familiar green-clad figure walking up to her. "Franz!" She smiled. "I haven't seen you around."
"Yeah… life got in the way, I guess." He said with a sheepish smile. "Anyway, I came to get you – we're moving with the advance unit."
"Huh? A – advance?"
The male knight shook his head as he led her towards the town gates. "Myrrh's missing. She's the kid that's always hanging around Lord Ephraim. Apparently she's important for something, because Lord Ephraim's mobilizing the entire army to go find her." He paused. "The fact that we've received word of Grad fortifications at the Za'Albul Marshes – which is where Myrrh was last seen heading - probably doesn't help."
Amelia sighed. "Then… another battle?"
"Most probably." Franz slowed his pace slightly. "Amelia… if you don't want to do this, I can request Lord Ephraim to let you sit this one out-"
Amelia was shaking her head before the sentence had been completed. "Thanks for the concern Franz, but I'll be okay. I promise."
Her friend smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "All right then. Let's go."
"Keping up tension over a march lasting several hours never works very well." Forde observed sourly as he chewed at hunk of stale bread.
"The threat of imminent battle's keeping my tension high enough, thanks." Franz commented as he pulled on Neige's reins.
"Well, maybe the enemy commander will be intimidated enough that they'll surrender without putting up too much of a fight. We've got General Duessel riding point with Prince Ephraim, after all."
Franz sighed. "And we're doing all this because of a single girl? What's the big fuss about her, anyway?"
"Franz, brother, you're hardly someone to be patronizing others about being overprotective of a single person to the point of forsaking protocol." Forde said with a raised eyebrow.
It was obvious enough what Forde was talking about, and Franz glanced over his shoulder where Amelia was marching along on foot with the majority of the advance unit. Knowing that the heat in his face would be translating very rapidly to a flushed face, he sighed and muttered, "Point taken."
"We all have things we value to the exclusion of all else." Forde blew his breath out in a long sigh and grinned. "Only difference here is the person in question has enough clout to mobilize an army for his purposes. Besides," he shrugged. "We needed to use to path sooner or later to get to the capital. So we're bumping the schedule up a bit – no biggie."
"We're here." The hitherto silent Kyle broke the silence as they crested the last hill. And Franz failed to suppress a 'Here we go again' sigh at the sight before him.
Line upon line of faceless, armour-clad Grad soldiers, all standing at attention, shifting weapons into position, taking up defensive measures around the marshlands stood before them, forming an imposing wall of steel.
Franz's weapon was drawn before he knew it, and he guided Neige into a closer huddle with the other mounted soldiers, preparing for battle.
It's supposed to get easier, and I suppose it has… but I've never gotten the feeling of dread to go away. Subconsciously, he stole another glance at Amelia, who was swallowing nervously.
Just then, the Grad formations parted ranks, allowing a singular figure to stride forward. A frown creased the young cavalier's face as he saw who it was.
Selena Fluorspar. One of Grado's Generals. I guess they're really taking us seriously now. And walking at her side was-
Franz resisted the urge to utter a curse. Myrrh. Of course. Now that they had a hostage, he couldn't be sure Lord Ephraim would allow them to go all out in battle…
So absorbed was Franz in his thoughts that it took several moments for him to realize that General Selena had knelt down beside the young girl, speaking softly to her. With a small (but seemingly grateful) nod, the young girl took to the air on her –
"Wings?" Franz sputtered. Since when did Myrrh have wings? The young girl flew gracefully over to Ephraim, who quickly assessed her for any injuries. Seemingly satisfied that she was all right, Ephraim spoke softly to her and she vanished into the rear of the soldiers.
It was then that Selena Fluorspar spoke. Her voice was calm and controlled, but nevertheless projected across the entire Frelian advance force. Probably some kind of magic spell, Franz figured.
"Soldiers of Frelia and Renais. You are intruding upon soil sovereign to the Empire of Grado, held by his Imperial Majesty Vigarde the Eighth. Depart this land at once, or your blood shall be upon your own heads."
Ephraim stood, silent as the grave, as Selena made her proclamation. As the last word left her lips, he punched his spear into the air, its gleaming point shining brightly in the morning sun. The implication was clear. There would be no backing down.
General Selena stood there for a timeless moment before raising her hand in a slashing gesture. Instantly the Grad soldiers around her closed lines, raising pikes and spears, determined to halt the advance of the Frelian Army.
And the slaughter began anew.
No monsters this time. Amelia thought forlornly as she gazed out at the Gra – the enemy army. That wasn't good. She'd been holding a tiny hope at the back of her mind that if there more of the zombies and skeletons and whatnot to fight, she could avoid actual engagements with living, breathing Grads.
The perilous nature of the marshlands made a full-on charge straight into the thick of the soldiers an untenable proposition – losing one's footing and falling into the clutching mud could be as deadly as receiving a sword-strike to the head, and nowhere near as swift. Then again, the way Ephraim was ordering the front lines to move, it appeared that he was more interested in forming a defensive shell…
Of course. They were only the advance party sent to find Myrrh – Lord Ephraim probably hadn't counted on facing off against several companies worth of Grado's finest troops, and so he was going to dig in and hold on until the rest of his own army showed up.
With the press of soldiers all around her, Amelia soon found herself somewhere in the middle of the pack, her view obscured by mounted knights and waving spears.
And she waited.
After a while, she frowned slightly. While it was certainly noisy, it didn't seem much like the Grad soldiers were advancing either. They currently held the advantage in terms of numbers… were they waiting for something?
And then she could hear a strange 'thwpth' sound. It took her half a second to realize that that sound was immensely familiar for some odd reason, and another half-second to realize that it was now being replaced with the sound of something… several somethings… a whole lot of somethings… flying through the air.
"SHIELDS UP!" She heard the bellow from the front line and instinctively she glanced up in time to see a veritable hail of arrows at the apex of their arc, all poised to rain down upon the huddled group of Frelian soldiers.
She stifled to urge to wince. Her head was entirely unprotected, and given how thickly the arrows were coming down, chances of her avoiding them would be infinitesimal.
She was about to duck back into the press of soldiers, hoping to make a smaller target, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry. Stick close to me and you'll be fine."
She whirled. "Franz? I thought you were… at the front…" She finished lamely.
Removing his hand, Ewan raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Ah, so that's what's going on between you two. You're going to have to tell me a bit more about that later." Then his face grew serious. "For now, though…"
Concentrating, he formed an orb of glowing magic in his hands, and hurled the orb into the sky. In an instant, it had expanded into a glowing sphere of blazing flame that floated upwards, serving as a rather effective shield against the arrows. All around them, other mages were doing largely the same thing, although the specific elements of the spells differed.
In such a manner were the majority of arrows rendered impotent, the few that got through the magical storm mostly bouncing off upraised shields or shining helms. While there were certainly a few Frelians who were felled in the process, the damage was, by and large, mitigated.
Amelia turned to Ewan, who was currently breathing heavily through his mouth. "That was amazing!" Then she paused. "Are you okay?"
He managed a slight smile and waved the question off. "Imagine how… you'd feel… if you'd just… run a mile… in that armour of yours." Straightening, he ran his arm along his forehead, wiping off the beaded sweat. "Just give me a couple minutes to catch my breath."
And as Amelia nodded, she heard a distant roar that swelled until it seemed to come from all around them, along with the clash of metal on metal and the sound of hoof beats on grass.
The battle was joined.
"Franz…" Amelia whispered softly, and ducking and weaving as best she could through the throng, she headed for the front.
Up above, clouds began to gather.
Franz slammed the pommel of his sword into the helmet of his latest enemy, caving it in on one side and causing the soldier wearing it to jerk away with a muffled cry of pain. Disoriented as the soldier was, it was a simple matter for Franz to cut away the leather thongs of the horse's saddle, causing the knight to lose his balance and tumble to the muddy earth.
Twisting his neck to take stock of the overall situation, he hissed in pain as his neck reminded him that he was indeed wounded and it was in his best interests that he got that wound tended to. One of the arrows that had made it through had managed to cut away a strip of flesh from the side of his neck as it zipped to the ground, enough so that it hurt. A lot.
Willing himself to ignore the pain, the young knight caught sight of Sir Garcia carving a path through the Grad soldiers, seemingly without backup, and he tugged on Neige's reins, guiding her closer to him so he could provide support.
Using his position as a mounted knight, he was able to rain down blows upon the landlocked soldiers with greater efficiency, thus succeeding in driving them back. Once a free moment was won, he turned to the older warrior, breathing heavily.
"They're good." The bearded man rumbled.
"'S to be expected." Forde's calm voice floated over as he rode towards the two of them, wiping slickened blood of his own sword. "General Selena Fluorspar's personal Corps. They're the lot who thrashed the Guard at the Tower of Valni, you know."
"But… if we're holding our own against them…" Franz spoke slowly. "Doesn't that mean we can take the worst Grado's got to offer?"
"Maybe." Forde shrugged. "But I'll wager the Emperor's Guardsmen know their stuff, and there're still four Grad generals and their armies unaccounted for. We're in for a long hard slog any way you want to slice it."
Franz was about to reply when the area ahead of them blazed blinding white, causing Neige to rear up in confused fright. By the time he'd calmed her down again, the light had faded enough for Franz to see the after-effects of the blast – three Frelian soldiers lay a smoking, discoloured mess on the cold earth.
"What in-" Sir Garcia started.
"There." Forde's voice was cold as he pointed towards the very centre of the swamplands. Straining his eyes, Franz could barely make out a single figure on the central island, riding upon a horse.
"Is that…"
"General Selena herself."
"How did she-" Whatever else Franz was about to say was cut off as he saw the General lift a single hand up to the sky. From it an arcing bolt of pure light blazed forth, soaring up until it touched the clouds high above them.
Moving rapidly, it zipped through the clouds, arcing in seemingly random directions but always moving closer to the thick of the bunched Frelian army. Then, right above the very centre of the huddled mass, it paused for a timeless moment.
"No." Franz wasn't sure if it was him or Forde who actually said it out loud, but in the end, it proved irrelevant. None of them possessed the capability to stop the spell.
Blazing with white-hot fury, the bolt of lightning lanced down from the heavens slamming into the thick of the Frelian soldiers with the force of… of… Franz lacked any other comparison for the havoc it wreaked. Screaming men were literally tossed into the air by the sheer force of the blast, only to slam back into the earth in crumpled. Those in the very epicentre were slain in but an instant; barely aware of what had occurred to them. And for the next few seconds, panic reigned.
"SPREAD OUT!" He heard Prince Ephraim's bellowed command. And Franz resisted the urge to curse. Spreading out would certainly mitigate the damage done by the spell – whatever it was - but it also meant losing their defensive formation.
Whirling around, he saw that General Selena was once again raising her hand to the sky, another lightning storm surging forth, crackling madly as it headed towards-
Franz's breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of a flash of red. Amelia, knee deep in the swampwaters, fending off a trio of Grad soldiers. Ewan at her side, hurling fireballs at the foe to keep them away.
Before he knew it, he had spurred Neige into a gallop, rushing madly for the two of them, praying desperately that he would not be too late.
Knocking aside the Grad soldier's sword, Amelia swung her lance around, letting the blunt end clock the head of her last opponent. He was sent sprawling, flailing about in the muddy water.
Pausing to catch her breath, Amelia turned to face Ewan, who looked a complete mess – Amelia supposed she wasn't much better. Swamps had a tendency to do that sort of thing to you. Shrugging, she began to walk over to presumably drier land –
And caught sight of a green blur a half-second before it tackled her full on, throwing her backwards several feet and landing her in the water.
Before her stunned mind could get around the processing a reaction of some sort, the area was suddenly irradiated by a brilliant light, and she had to force her eyes shut.
Finally, the weight on her body lifted, and she wearily clambered to her feet, to stare into the worried face of Franz.
"You're all right?" He questioned softly. "I thought… I thought I'd never make it in time-"
Amelia glanced past him, to where a large portion of the marshland had been blasted away by the sheer force of the spell. "What-" She began, and then a more worrisome thought struck her mind. "Ewan! Where'd he-"
"Over here." Colm's confident voice cut through and he appeared from the side, on hand wrapped around the mage's arm. "Lucky I was around, huh? You wouldn't have liked to be in the centre of… well, whatever that thing was."
"Oh, I'm grateful that you saved my life." Ewan said as he tugged at Colm's hand and succeeded in removing it from his arm. "For yanking my arm half out of it's socket, not so much."
"Not like I had any other choice." Colm shrugged. "You'd have preferred I came up to you all courteous-like and said, 'Excuse me, Master Mage, Sir, but you're about two seconds from being blown to smithereens. Perhaps a change of location is in order?' Not happening."
"General Selena's got some sort of long range spell." Franz spoke softly as he gazed towards the centre of the marsh. "We're pretty much sitting ducks like this."
"Yeah, well, there isn't a whole lot we can do until the main army gets here." Colm said with an air of irritation. "Charging into the swamp's a surefire way to get ourselves bogged down and chopped to pieces – or blasted apart, what with that crazy magic they've got brewing."
Just as Colm finished speaking, a flash of white darted over the field, and the four of them instinctively turned to see a squadron of Pegasus Knights wheeling through the air.
Colm whistled appreciatively. "Oh, good. The backup's arrived. Maybe now we can get down to doing something. What took them so long, anyway? It's not like it's easy to get lost when you're a thousand feet up in the sky."
"Colm." Franz's voice was insistent. The blue-haired thief paused to shoot the knight an irritable look.
"What?"
"Those Pegasi Knights aren't ours."
Colm frowned and looked back up to the sky, an instant before his expression turned to one of shock, along with a hint of feat.
Amelia turned as well, just in time to see the flash of pristine white wings and the knights hurling down javelins from high above. Naturally they weren't accurate, but if a single one of the projectiles hit her, Amelia would probably count herself lucky to get away with losing a limb or two.
Thankfully, the javelins missed. However, there was still a distressingly large number of mercenary flyers wheeling overhead – to say nothing of the detachment that had peeled away and were now swooping down on the four of them. Running would of course be useless – the airborne fighters were far faster than them.
"Get ready – here they come." Franz's voice was steady as he shifted into a better defensive position.
From behind her, Ewan hurled several fireballs at the incoming knights, although the resistant hides of the Pegasi mounts severely blunted the efficacy of their attacks. At that range and speed, the mage simply couldn't aim well enough to hit the actual humans atop their mounts.
Two seconds… one…
Amelia whirled, barely avoiding a heavy lance strike that would have pierced her heart. Even as she raised her lance in an attempt to retaliate, the warrior had already zipped past. Amelia ground her teeth. She couldn't use the same tactics that she used against landlocked opponents here…
Well, the sheer momentum that the riders carried made sudden turns all but impossible, so anyone who missed a first strike would have to wait a bit before trying for a second. That pleasing thought in mind, Amelia shifted to anticipate the approach of the next rider.
The mercenary was aiming low, apparently in a bid to trip up and disable the young lancer. Amelia sidestepped the attack and struck back – and though she missed the rider herself, she was still able to land a glancing blow on the Pegasus itself. A thin stream of red splashed upon the whiteness of the winged horse's fur.
At the edge of her vision, she caught sight of Franz facing down his own opponent. As his opponent swooped down on him, the knight twisted slightly, his right arm blurring upwards – and then the rider was unseated, slamming into the ground with bone breaking force.
Her instincts suddenly alerted her to danger and she jumped to the side – an instant before a rider, swooping down almost vertically, slammed her lance onto the spot where she had been standing a moment ago. The weapon buried itself slightly in the muddy earth, and with a grunt of exertion the rider yanked it out again, her ice-blue eyes never leaving Amelia's emerald ones.
A timeless moment was spent as the two soldiers silently sized each other up, Amelia desperately hoping that her anxiety wasn't showing on her face.
And on an unspoken signal, her foe's Pegasus burst into action, flaring its wings and lowering its head as it charged forward, the warrior's lance already stabbing forward.
Swiftly, Amelia parried the blow, but the opportunity to strike back was lost as the mount skilfully wheeled, shielding its rider with its wings. Amelia sighed, and mentally wondered if it would be a good idea to look into getting a mount herself after this fight was over.
For now, though… In close range, Amelia had better manoeuvrability than the rider, and she used that to her advantage as much as she could, ducking and weaving to try to get to a blind spot on the rider, trying to score that one crucial hit.
Suddenly, the rider's guard dropped as she struck out once more, at precisely the same instant that Amelia jabbed upwards with her lance. With simultaneous cries of pain, both fighters jerked away, clutching bleeding wounds.
One hand wrapped protectively around the gash at her midsection, Amelia instinctively reached for the vulnerary tucked in her belt. Her new breastplate had held against the blow, redirecting the spearhead into slashing her side instead of stabbing straight through her stomach. As she quaffed the healing mixture, she quickly struggled to her feet again, willing herself to ignore the pain in her side.
Then she blinked. Her opponent had vanished. Where-?
Amelia had a single instant to remember that her opponent was not landlocked before she felt a rush of wind on her back, and she desperately threw herself to the side as fast as she could.
Pain exploded in her skull, she felt a something warm and wet running down her arm, and the world spun about her as she collapsed to the ground.
As another sky rider stabbed at him, Franz shifted slightly to the right to avoid the blow and slashed at the legs of the Pegasus, earning a cry of pain and anger from the mount. Lashing out with a well-aimed kick, he was able to unseat the rider, sending her sprawling onto the ground.
Stepping back, he did a quick scan of the battlefield, and alarm spread over his features as he saw Amelia lying stunned on the ground, struggling to pull herself to her feet. Not half a step behind her, a Pegasus rider raised a spear, ready to pin Amelia to the ground with it.
He had barely taken a step in their direction when a glowing orb of energy zipped past his cheek, exploding as it crashed into the face of the distracted Pegasus Knight. The warrior let out a scream of agony and fell backwards off her horse. Meanwhile, Franz dashed over to Amelia's side.
"Amelia!" She appeared rather dizzy, she appeared to have taken a blunt blow to the head of some kind, and there was torn, ragged flesh around her right arm. But otherwise she seemed unhurt. Behind him, Ewan jogged up. Franz glanced over his shoulder.
"Thanks for the save."
"Heh." The pupil grinned and shrugged. "Times when having range in your attacks comes in handy. How's she?"
"She is fine, thanks for asking." Amelia muttered wearily as she finally succeeded in standing up with Franz's help. Once up, though, she tottered, swayed. "Ugh."
Despite his concern for Amelia, Franz quickly noted the flash of movement behind her as the wounded Pegasus knight pulled herself up. In a flash, he had placed himself between her and Amelia. "Surrender." He said softly to the woman, holding his sword in a ready position.
"I don't think so." Was the calm response. Franz could see the effects of Ewan's spell across her face – flesh was scarred angry red, blood seeping down her cheek and neck and onto her tunic.
"You're wounded, and there're three of us." Franz said calmly, trying to get her to understand the situation, trying to get her to stand down.
There was a moment of hesitation, a slight dip of her lance – and then she charged, bring her weapon up in a single smooth motion.
Franz swung into action, slashing his sword horizontally to knock aside the spear. The backswing travelled high, drawing across the enemy soldier's neck.
There was a short, strangled gasp, the two of them staring at each other for a long, unbroken instant. And then she feel, silent and unmoving, to the earth.
Shaking his head, Franz turned away, back to Amelia – and Ewan, who was busy fashioning a makeshift bandage for the wound in her arm.
"Of all times for both of us to have run out of vulnerary doses…" The flame-haired mage said in a cross between a sigh and a chuckle.
"I've still got a couple shots worth left…" Franz began, but Amelia waved him off.
"No worries, Franz. The wound on my arm isn't that bad. But my head, though… I'm not sure what exactly she hit me with, but it hurts. A lot."
Franz was about to reply when he saw Colm running towards the three of them, a harried look on the rogue's face.
"Another bunch's headed this way."
Instantly Franz craned his neck, gazing up at the skies. True enough, another band of mercenary Pegasus Knights. Even as he watched, the split up into more intricate formations, preparing to renew their attack.
That is, until a volley of arrows felled five of their ranks, forcing the others to wheel back and regroup.
"Arrows…? Our force doesn't have many archers, does it?"
"No, it doesn't."
And then, abruptly, another set of Pegasus Knights soared into view, only this time the green colours of Frelia were clearly visible upon them. Without hesitation they dived in on the mercenaries, creating a deadly aerial dance.
Franz traded a brief smile with Amelia as, on the far crest of the hill, the faint outline of knights on horseback became visible.
The main army had arrived.
Chapter End
Thank you for reading. Please review.
