No Longer Alone
A part of me sometimes wonders how I'm supposed to portray the fights taking place here in any sort of manner approaching realism, since, well, historically, battles were nothing like this.
Of course, given that the entirety of Fire Emblem combat is something that any tactician would condemn almost from the get-go, maybe I can be justified in just winging it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"It's… kinda creepy."
Franz glanced up at Amelia as she said those words. She was staring down the main street of the capital, a lost, somewhat forlorn look on her face. Funny… he hadn't even noticed her walking up.
"What is?" He questioned softly, giving her a comforting look. Well, he hoped it was a comforting look.
"The street. It's so… empty." Amelia's free hand wrapped across the front of her body to cling onto her left shoulder. "The last time I was here, it was so lively. People were everywhere… buying groceries, sitting down and having drinks, living lives…" As if to punctuate her point, a gust of wind slammed a upper-storey window of a building down the street shut, the faint but distinct bang causing several soldiers in the vicinity to look upwards.
Ephraim had split them up into several smaller 'assault teams' to quickly sweep through the streets and clear out any pockets of resistance before converging upon the castle and besieging it proper. This would probably have been a sound plan, if not for the fact that there was a surprising lack of enemy troops.
"They've probably been evacuated." Franz shrugged as pulled gently on Neige's reins. "That's good, isn't it? The last thing Ephraim – any of us - wants is a fight involving civilians."
"But the soldiers? Where are they? Shouldn't they be defending the capital? We should… we should already be in the thick of the fighting."
The knight frowned. "Yeah. I know what you mean. It's odd, really. Ever since we came into Grado, the enemy armies really haven't been up to snuff. They're supposed to have a lot more soldiers than this."
Amelia fell silent for a while. Then she chuckled ruefully. "Well, with any luck, the castle will be empty and we can just march right in and take it, huh?"
"Heh. It'd be a whole lot easier on everyone's part. No more fighting, no more killing, and hey, maybe we could even start repairing the relations between our countries again." Franz closed his eyes. "Sometimes, I want to imagine what it'd be like when the war's over. What I'd do, what the continent would look like. But then I always got reminded of how far we had to go, how many battles still needed to be fought." He paused, taking in a long breath. "But now. This is the last fight, isn't it? Once this is over, we…"
"Once this is over, huh?" Amelia's voice was quite, subdued. She took a few steps forward, head hung low.
"Amelia? Is something wrong?"
She shook her head, smiled. "Nah. It's nothing. Come on. We need to keep moving."
Once this is over, huh… Amelia thought as the soldiers continued their progression deeper into the city. Once this is over, I… what's left for me?
There probably wasn't anything left for here in Grado – at least, not as a soldier. They would never accept her back – not after what she had done. And, truth be told, that wasn't really such a bad thing. She didn't really want much to do with the Grado Army anymore.
She could move to Renais, of course. That's where Franz lived, and she got the feeling that Commander Ephraim wouldn't mind. Of course, that would mean that she would have left two armies (she was technically considered part of the Frelian army right now, after all), but she could live with that.
Moving to Renais shouldn't have posed much of a problem at all, and came with its fair share of perks (one of them happened to be walking alongside her), but… well, something was holding her back. And she couldn't tell what it was. Silva, perhaps… but then it wasn't like she couldn't visit her hometown now and again.
Maybe it's just nerves. Maybe everything will be clearer once this fight is over. With a sigh, she glanced up at the castle, looming in the distance.
Yeah. Maybe.
It was only when they were almost at the castle gates that they met resistance. Barriers defended by archers and mages arrayed in the sort of the formation that made a direct charge rather unappealing – and most likely fatal – lined up near the castle gates, the well-trained and disciplined soldiers quickly firing off quick shots as soon as new targets came into view.
Of course the Frelian army's archers were able to reply in kind, and soon the air was filled with projectiles zipping back and forth while the more melee-oriented members of the army sought cover until all the shooting stopped.
Which happened soon enough. Quickly the defenders fell back in organized retreat, laying covering fire to prevent pursuers. Not enough, however, to make the heavily-armoured knights falter in their charge. If the Grad forces got behind the gates and succeeded in closing them, then a lot more time – and lives – would be wasted. That could not be allowed to happen.
Franz was not one of their heavily armoured knights, and as such he and the rest of the army were taking what cover they could while waiting impatiently for the all-important breakthrough. Close by, Forde was grumbling to himself as he splashed the contents of a vulnerary across his arm – a glancing strike from an arrow had torn a ragged line on his arm. Amelia was crouching as well, face set, breathing quickly.
And then there was the swell of noise, equal parts a cheer and a roar, as the gates were secured. Rushing forward, Ephraim made a quick gesture with his arm – a signal for the men under his command to advance.
Grabbing the handle of his blade tightly, Franz charged forward.
It was time to end this.
As she made her way through the hallways of Grado fortress, Amelia couldn't help but shake the feeling that this was entirely too easy.
Sure, there were the swarms of enemy soldiers marching out from the deepest recesses of the bastion, the locked and barred gates that the soldiers would have to batter down before being allowed access, enemy archers and mages launching attacks from hidden alcoves and scurrying away before they could suffer retaliation... but it still just didn't feel right.
For one thing, these soldiers couldn't possibly be Grado elites. They were falling back too soon, too fast. Heck, Amelia had even taken out a few of them on her own, in straight up matches. There was no way they could be the Honour Guard assigned to guard Emperor Vigarde.
For another, there were too few of them. They were making far too much headway into the bastion – the forces of Grado simply couldn't have been bled this much by the fights they'd been through so far. Unless they were marshalling the vast majority of their forces for a last desperate stand in the throne room… but then it would just make them no better than cornered rats.
And, lastly, there was a distinct lack of Grado generals leading the defense. People like Glen, the Sunstone, the Moonstone Valter, and… and a couple others that she didn't know much about.
All in all there was definitely something odd, and she simply couldn't shake the feeling of unease that they were all missing something important.
"Amelia!" At the sound of the voice, she turned to see Franz rushing up to her, his sword already slick with fresh blood. "You all right?"
She nodded and plastered a smile on her face. "I'm fine – don't worry about it."
Franz sighed and fell in step behind her. "You shouldn't have rushed off like that."
She raised an eyebrow. "Not my fault you were too slow to catch up with me." She grinned. "Anyway, I'll be fine. Most of the soldiers here aren't that tough…" She trailed off, and she knew Franz had caught the look on her face.
"You noticed too?" He said softly.
She sighed. "There's no way we could've exhausted so much of Grado's resources that these are the best troops they have to defend the capital. I… what's going on, Franz?"
The knight sighed and squared his shoulders. "The only logical reason would be that they're using their elite troops to invade the other countries, but… that's absurd. They should have been recalling all the troops since… I dunno, Taizel at the latest."
Amelia shook her head. "Even if Emperor Vigarde really was committed to ruling the whole continent, he wouldn't leave himself unguarded. And… we'd have heard something if he was out at the front lines in other places, wouldn't we?"
"Probably. I mean, every country has got spies in every other country. We should have heard something by now if that happened."
Amelia remained silent for a moment. "So, wait, Franz. If Emperor Vigarde doesn't care enough to protect himself properly… would the rest of the Grad soldiers care? Would stopping him end the war, or…" She paused, unwilling to complete the sentence.
Then the cries around the corner rose in volume and frequency as the soldiers of Frelia encountered yet another pocket of resistance.
Sparing a glance to each other, Franz and Amelia raised their weapons and charged.
As the two continued ever deeper into the castle, Franz let himself fall back slightly, enough so that he could keep Amelia comfortably in view for the duration of the fight. The wound she had received was still fresh on his mind, and he had no intention of letting something like that repeat itself.
Abruptly a soldier – a mercenary, really, judging by the loose-fitting clothes he wore – lunged at her, axe in hand. Franz was already dashing forward, sword raised, when Amelia pivoted neatly, bringing the blunt end of her lance up to clock him on the chin. Or at least she would done so it the man hadn't jerked back out of the way just in time, already bringing his blade for another strike.
At this, Franz lunged forward, parrying the blow. The enemy soldier let out a grunt of surprise and stepped back. Franz's eyes narrowed as the two of them faced off tensely –
Until an arrow embedded itself in the mercenary's leg and he fell to the floor with a yelp of pain. Before he could recover Colm had darted over, pressing a dagger to the soldiers neck and warning him in no uncertain terms not to move as Neimi quickly stepped up behind them.
After restraining the soldier, the four of them following the rest of the army further in, Colm turned to grin at Franz.
"Thanks for distracting him for us."
Franz snorted slightly. "Glad to be of service."
Soon they came upon a heavy oaken door, sealed with a heavy padlock. The thief whistled.
"Obviously they've got something in here they don't want us to be peeking in on." Withdrawing a tiny set of metal implements, Colm strolled over towards the lock. "Let me just see if I can… Huh?"
The door swing open without any need of Colm's efforts, and the four of them looked into the room to see a figure crouched over a series of chests. At their unexpected entrance, the brown-cloaked man leapt to his feet, one hand already reaching for the knives tucked at his belt.
And then he paused.
"Uh, hang on. You're not Grad soldiers, are you?"
Amelia paused, shook her head. "N – no, we're with the Frelian army."
The brown-haired man seemed to take this information rather well, at least from Franz's point of view. "Oh. Well, then, it seems that we've got a common enemy… or at the least we've no reason to be fighting each other. So if you don't mind, I'll just be finishing up my looting of the place and-"
"Wait, you're a bandit?" Franz demanded, bringing his blade up. The thief sighed.
"No, I believe the more appropriate term would be 'mercenary seeking his due'. You can't very well blame me for deserting the grand old Grado army when they welsh on my payments, can you? And as long as I'm here, I figured I might as well grab what they owe me. I do happen to be very good at judging the worth of an item."
"I also happen to know a thing or two about the pay of a mercenary, and unless you're a better soldier than three guilds put together, the stuff hanging from you pockets is worth more than a year of unbroken service." Franz snapped.
"Pft. It's not like it would have been left intact either. You guys would have seen to that." The rogue shrugged elaborately. "Besides, I think you have more things to worry about than little old me, don't you?"
As if on cue, a massive explosion sounded through the halls of the palace, the sure sign of mages channelling their energy together for a super-powered fire spell. The only time they'd use something like this was when they were up against a particularly tough barrier…
Franz hesitated, torn for a moment between stopping the thief and rushing to aid the others. Finally he settled for shooting the thief a glare before turning and running in the direction of the noise. After a moment's hesitation, Amelia, Neimi and Colm fell in behind him, leaving the treasure room and the thief behind.
Amelia didn't claim to know everything that went on through Franz's mind, but she did know enough to know when he was upset about something.
Right now, he was obviously very upset. And it didn't take a genius to see why.
A part of her want to talk to him about it, tell him that it wasn't such a big deal, but a tiny voice at the back of her head told her that it would only be making things worse, and that there wasn't anything she could really do to alleviate it.
Still, it didn't make her feel much better…
Her line of thought was abruptly derailed as they rounded the corner and came upon a scene of destruction. Amelia supposed the doors must have once been beautiful, carved by skilled craftsmen and laid over with melted gold, encrusted with precious gems. Now, though, they lay in smouldering piles, Frelian soldiers charging through the ruined doorway into the throne room of the Grado Fortress.
With a deep breath, Amelia charged in as well, weapon at the ready, Franz following close behind.
"Whoa!" Almost immediately it was apparent that the Grad soldiers filling the area were far more capable than the ones that they had faced throughout the rest of the fortress. Their armour and robes bore the emblem of two crossed pitch-black axes – the symbol of Emperor Vigarde's personal guard.
Steeling herself, Amelia cast a quick glance across the room, seeking out any potential opponents for her to fight. She caught a quick glimpse of Forde and Kyle facing down two knights, Prince Ephraim heading for the throne wear the Emperor was sitting, still silent, Colm hurriedly pushing Neimi back from the front lines, the Druid turning to face her and raising a staff that was beginning to pulse with a sickly red glow-
"NO!"'
Amelia felt, rather than saw, Franz rushing towards her in a tackle that shoved her out of the way of the Berserk spell. She hit the ground with a bone-jarring impact, and it was several long seconds before she could begin to recover, begin to climb to her feet again.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her lance, quickly turning to check if Franz was alright.
"Franz? You okay?"
He was standing several feet away to her right, hands clutched to his head. Even as she watched, he stumbled back slightly, eyes squeezed shut, one hand raised as if to ward people – ward her - off.
She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. That spell… "F-Franz?"
"I… I said, get… no… go AWAY!" His last word degenerated into a mindless roar of rage as he lunged at Amelia, eyes glowing with a reddened haze.
Failing to suppress her gasp of horror, Amelia was barely able to bring up her lance in time to block the strike, and the force of the blow drove her back a couple of steps before she was able to regain her footing.
Quickly she settled into a defensive stance. This wasn't a practice battle, Franz would give her no quarter – heck, she couldn't even be sure his fighting style would remain the same… All she could hope to do was to hold him off long enough for the spell to wear off, and Franz to return to his senses.
Not that she was particularly sanguine about her chances of facing down Franz - especially empowered by the maddening rage of Berserk.
She couldn't tell if the druid casting the spell had been dealt with – fending off her friend's wild strikes was demanding absolutely all of her attention – but she hoped fervently that he wasn't preparing a second incantation. Just what she needed, really-
Abruptly she sensed an opening and leaned forward to ram her shoulder into his chest. The jangling force of the chest plates sent a shock straight up her arm, but at least it had given her the opening she needed.
Twisting, she reached up to slam her elbow into his neck, a move that should have sent the young knight sprawling and given him an ache that would have lasted for a week or so. But she apparently hadn't registered that berserk warriors tended to not care about those sort of things.
A flash of silver and red, and a moment later a wave of pain swept up her right leg. Staggering, she instinctively reached out with her hand to support herself-
Only for Franz to grab ahold of it and squeeze. Hard.
There was an audible crack, and Amelia couldn't help the howl of agony. Past the hellish pain, past the blinding tears that now sprang to her eyes, her free hand instinctively reached for the dagger tucked in her belt. If she could stab his thigh…
She was never even able to pull it free of its guard – abruptly she was flung through the air, landing with a loud thump and with the air knocked out of her in the second time in as many minutes.
Gritting her teeth and propping herself up on one elbow, Amelia caught sight of Franz charging her, yet again. Aiming carefully, she lashed out with her foot, catching him right in the ankle.
He hit the ground nearly as hard as she had, but then again, he hadn't received many other wounds before now, whereas Amelia's hand hung limply from its mangled wrist. And of course the wound to her leg would make efficient movement all but impossible.
Things definitely weren't looking good.
Bleeding from a cut to the chin, Franz pushed himself up into a forward crouch, eyes still blazing with unnatural rage. Amelia had no way to defend herself from his forward lunge, aside from swinging her good arm in an attempt to block him.
The back of her head cracked against the floor, and her vision swam. And then she was grappling with an opponent who was stronger than her, wasn't wounded, that she couldn't see probably, had no qualms whatsoever about murdering her, and of course, was her dear friend.
And then she felt his hand clamping down on her throat in a vicelike grip, the other pinning her functional arm to the floor, and a thrill of panic rushed through her body.
"Franz…" She managed, in a choked gasp. Streaks of pain crackled through her neck, the fingers tightening, slowly, interminably.
So that was it, then. To be murdered by her closest friend under the influence of a mind-warping spell in the capital of the Grado Empire. It was… funny, really, how everything should have ended up like this.
And suddenly, abruptly, the pressure released, Franz reeling back and collapsing onto the floor, a look of horror and disgust on his face.
"Amelia… I…" He began softly. The glow in his eyes was beginning, ever so slowly, to fade. "… I…" He simply kept repeating that one word, like some sort of broken automaton.
She couldn't speak – the pain in her throat was still too fresh for her to force air out in anything other than raspy gasps – but a part of her realized that there was nothing to say anyway.
After a long moment, she began to climb to her feet, dimly aware that the sounds of battle were dying down all around her.
Using her lance as a makeshift crutch, she turned and hobbled off towards the exit of the room.
Behind her, Franz remained, unmoving, in his position on the ground.
Chapter End
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