Hello!

Sorry if the update is a bit late. The chapter was finished on time, but... Internet issues. At the most inconvenient of times. In other news... We've finally reached the end of the Emmeryn chapter! So, for those who did think I was dragging it out... Here you go. By the way, if you lovely people are reading this, can you review? I'm kinda losing motivation for this as... It doesn't seem to get much love, and I've got some other ideas. So, if you're liking Kit's adventure, tell me!

Onwards!

Chapter 14

"Stop." Everyone in the desert turned to stare at Emmeryn. She didn't seem to speak loudly, but her voice carried to the ears of all. "Gangrel. See now... What one person can do to save many." She smiled sadly at Chrom. "Chrom... I'll need you... To take care of our people."

Chrom stared. "Emm... It sounds like you're saying... No..."

Emmeryn's gaze turned to Lissa. "Lissa... I know it seems hard right now, but... Stay strong."

"Emm..." Lissa whispered. "What are you saying...?"

Finally, Emmeryn's eyes locked with Kit's. "Kit. I know that, in time, you will do everything you can to save all of the Shepherds. But for now... Start small. Take care of my sister." She gave a final, sad smile to the assembled masses. "I am sorry. All of you. My kingdom... My people... Know that I loved you. Always."

With those parting words, Emmeryn gently spread her arms wide. She tilted herself forwards slightly. Her feet softly left the edge of the skull she stood on. As she fell, her face betrayed no fear, only serenity. Her blonde hair whipped out behind her.

Everyone heard the soft, almost gentle, noise of her landing.

There was a moment of frozen silence.

Gangrel's coarse cackling broke the moment.

"Hah! What a fall! Look now, Ylisse! Your Exalt is dead! Bwa ha ha!"

"Why you-" Chrom grasped the Falchion so hard his knuckles turned white. Kit gripped his shoulder.

"Chrom. Attacking now would solve nothing." Kit's level voice brought Chrom back to reason.

"We need to retreat."

"... Fine." Chrom admitted reluctantly.

"Yes! Run! Run, little Shepherds!" Gangrel cackled.

As one, the Shepherds fled from Gangrel's ever-growing Risen army. Out of the corner of his eye, Kit could see the Feroxi army retreating.

Rain lashed at the Shepherds. Dense mud dragged at their feet. The Shepherds, all still dazed from Emmeryn's death, were finding what little support they could. Lissa had been leaning on Kit since they left the desert, Kit steadying her when she stumbled.

"Just over that ridge!" Basilio shouted to the Shepherds. "We'll be safe there!"

"Come on everyone!" Kit encouraged. "We have to keep moving!"

The grieving Lissa looked up at him. "I know... It's just... I don't have a drive anymore... Now that..." She sobbed. Kit pulled her close. "I know. But we need to live. We can't just give up and collapse."

Kit turned sharply towards the clink of armour. A large, bearded bald man stood before them, followed by a pair of wyvern riders and a few pikemen.

"Sorry, Shepherds." He spoke softly. "I've got orders. We can't let you live."

Kit slowly took his arms from around Lissa. His sword slid from its sheath almost silently.

"Shepherds! Stand with me!" He called. Cordelia and Lon'qu moved into place to his left. On his right, Chrom and Sumia drew their weapons. As Kit raised his sword, Nowi became a dragon behind him. He was a truly fearsome sight. The Plegians backed off slightly.

The two pegasus knights descended on the pikemen, the lances from above defeating them before they could react. Chrom and Lon'qu were in the battle near them, cutting down the archers that took aim. Nowi let out a mighty roar before loosing a jet of blue flames at the wyvern riders. Ricken stood, sheltered under Nowi's wings, summoning gusts that tore at the riders' armour. Kit stepped towards the commander, sword in hand.

"You seem... Reluctant to fight." Kit said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes." The commander agreed. "My name is Mustafa. With Emmeryn's suicide... I'm starting to wonder about 'Good King' Gangrel's motives. But... Orders are orders. If I, a high-ranking officer, were to desert... My family would suffer. My wife..." Mustafa shook himself. "No matter. Be gone!"

Kit could hear that the threat was half-hearted. He felt no desire to kill Mustafa. As the bald general stepped forwards, Kit gripped the spear and deflected it to the side. He stepped forwards very deliberately, stabbing at Mustafa's neck. Blood splashed onto Kit's sword.

"Go home, to your wife." Kit hissed as Mustafa fell. To the rest, he called: "Come on, Shepherds. Let's move."

As the Shepherds moved to the other side of the marshy ground, Mustafa raised his head. He put a hand to the shallow cut on his neck. Smiling, he stood. He would already be presumed dead. Feeling as if a great weight had been lifted, he set off home, to his wife.

The Shepherds stared in horror. Waiting for them, stood motionless... The Black Knight.