Hello people! Told you I'd be on time this week, releasing on Friday. A couple of updates- first, I'm going to upload a Halloween special chapter over the weekend, so keep a look out for that. Secondly, special thanks to postlude, for following this story. It means a lot. Thanks everyone who's still reading!

Onwards!

Chapter 7

Kit's eyes slowly opened. His head throbbed with agony. He couldn't move his left arm. When he tried to sit up, a wave of nausea and pain forced him back down.

"Easy now. You need a lot of rest after that." Said a familiar voice.

Kit's vision was still hazy. He saw a feminine blonde figure standing over him.

"...Lissa?" He croaked.

"Sorry, no." The figure replied, as sweetly as she could. "It's me. Emmeryn."

"Where's... Lissa...?" He managed. "Where's... Everybody...?"

"On the battlefield. Facing Plegian forces." Emmeryn replied solemnly.

"What!?" Kit dissolved into spluttering and coughing.

"The King of Plegia wanted the Fire Emblem. I could not give him that." Emmeryn continued. "When I refused, he declared war. Ricken and Maribelle are out there too- she had been held captive, and Ricken saved her."

"Ricken?" Kit's eyes widened. "He's a kid! I have to get out there! How much can you heal right now?"

Emmeryn's eyes widened. She seemed taken aback by Kit's sudden determination. "I... Could probably heal the worst of your wounds. Why?"

Kit's eyes hardened. "Because I'm going to fight. To help the others."

"Maribelle! Stay behind me!" Ricken yelled. Despite his youth, Maribelle followed the order quickly and wordlessly. He didn't show it, but Ricken was more scared than he could remember ever being. The Shepherds seemed to be losing. The apparently endless numbers of Plegians coming from the forts were wearing the Ylisseans down. Even Frederick, the invincible knight, was having trouble now. Ricken could feel his tome becoming more and more fragile with every blast now. He launched another jet of wind at a soldier, blowing him away and tearing his armour. Ricken felt a twinge of guilt and fear. Guilt for the man he had just mortally wounded. Fear for his own life, as he knew the tome had only four or five more uses, at best.

"Ricken! Catch!" A voice called. A fire tome landed in the dirt near his feet. He lauched another jet of wind, clearing away the crowd in front of him. He quickly grabbed the tome of the ground.

Ricken smiled grimly. He had a fighting chance now.

"Frederick!" The knight turned, to see Kit, sprinting up to him. "Get to one of those forts! Send Sully and Stahl to one each as well! That'll block their entrances! Go!"

The great knight nodded, turning to the other two cavaliers, directing them towards the Plegian forts. When Frederick turned to thank the tactician, he was already gone, sprinting further up the battlefield.

Chrom was losing. He could feel himself tiring, and these Plegians didn't seem to be wearing out. The three of them mercilessly attacked Chrom, jabbing with their lances. He heard a shout.

"Hey!"

The Plegians turned to see Kit, arm outstretched, the other clasping a tome to his side, teeth gritted. The blast of lightning tore through the first Plegian's armour. The other two stared in disbelief at their fallen comrade for a second, then advanced towards Kit. He shoved the tome back in his pocket, drawing a new iron sword.

The two advanced carefully, wary of what Kit might do next. Kit took the chance to really analyse his opponents.

Standard military armour. Cheaply made. Tin and leather. Easy. Lances- just as cheap. Bronze. Seem uncomfortable with a lance- probably untrained. Their only advantage in any battle is numbers.

Kit smiled, sliding into stance. His grin unnerved them, he knew. One jabbed at him tentatively. He gripped the spear's wooden shaft, snapping it over his knee. Both Plegians fliched back, then Kit stepped in, cutting them down with ease.

"Chrom!" Kit helped the prince to his feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"Wait." Kit was struck with a sudden thought. "Where's Lissa?"

The wyvern rider advanced on Lissa.

"Lucky me..." He mused, an evil grin on his face. "Got separated from the rest, eh?" He laughed, raising his axe. She looked down at the wounded Ricken, who she had started to heal a moment ago. He didn't look like he would get up any time soon. She backed away, hating that she couldn't fight.

A ball of lightning crackled past, an inch from the wyvern rider. Lissa looked to where it had come from, and sure enough, it was Kit, with Chrom at his side. They advanced towards Lissa's attacker. He made a dive for Lissa anyway, axe over his head. Kit lunged forwards, stopping the axe with his sword. He adjusted the sword, so that the edge of the blade pressed into the wooden handle. With one swing, he cut it neatly in two. The wyvern rider looked in disbelief at the stump of his axe, then Chrom attacked from the side. The rider slumped to the ground.

"Are you alright?" Kit and Chrom asked at the same time, with the same note of concern. They both coloured, looking at each other sheepishly. Something about the relief that everyone had survived, that they had won this battle, at least, that- for one moment- everything would be perfect, caused them first to crack a smile. Then laugh. Lissa's pure, sweet laughter cheered Kit for the rest of the day.

Far enough away not to be spotted, but close enough to see the battle, the Black Knight watched. He observed the battle in total silence, total stillness. His gaze lingered on Kit, the tactician, and his hand went to his sword. He vanished into the forest, as silently as he had stood.