A/N I kept trying to write a different scene with different characters with minimal results. Then this came on last night and flowed. Oh well. More later. I don't own Fire Emblem or any of its alternate timeline forms.
Noire didn't stop riding until she couldn't see the smoke from the village, or what was left of it. Despite her partner's critical condition, the archer knew that the chances of living if the Risen caught up to them were significantly lower than the prolonged treatment of the wound. Every little bit of distance would help.
Once the trails of smoke were no longer visible and they were surrounded by the silence and forest, she got to work. Noire carefully dismounted and propped Say'ri up against a tree. The Chon'sin woman let out a quiet grunt, but otherwise offered no opposition.
In the dim light, Say'ri's wounds became obvious-not so terrible that Say'ri would die, but definitely worth patching up to prevent death from blood loss. A long red line decorated the woman's side, evident the torn fabric of her robe and belt. It was a clean slash in its technique.
"The… bags…" gasped Say'ri. Noire scrambled to the horse and found a roll of cloth that would have to do as a bandage. "Er… hold still. I need to cut off the surrounding clothing so I can wrap up your wounds… Oh no…" Noire wrung her hands nervously as she approached the older woman with her pocket dagger and the cloth. The wounded woman gave a quick nod and closed her eyes. "Stay w-with me…" Noire began cutting at ornate belt wrapped around Say'ri's midsection, trying her best to keep her hands from shaking.
As the blade slit the fabric, a lump she didn't notice before tumbled free from the confines of the belt. Noire took a moment to push the sandy brown hair out of her face to examine the object. Shiny and green, she was confused as to what it was. It seemed familiar, and she knew that she had seen it before, maybe not in person but definitely in pictures... It hit her. Noire stopped her ministrations to gape at it. "Is that?"
"Vert? Aye. This is… why I'm here," Say'ri responded, grimacing slightly when she shifted her weight. Noire snapped out of her daze to return to the treatment. A million questions were running through her mind. She wanted to ask them, her mouth opening and closing silently, but her shock was prevalent. Why was she here with a piece of the Fire Emblem?
Say'ri continued, "It was almost… lost this morning… when that blasted woman almost… cut it out of me… but it's safe now." A woman amongst the Risen? Noire's ears perked up and she asked curiously, "Was it by chance… one with blue hair? She looked like a Risen commander, but none of our reports have ever spoken of her… I didn't know Grima had more human leaders..."
Say'ri shook her head. "Nay, 'twas someone worse… Morgan herself." At the mention of the sorceress' name, Noire gasped. Grima's right hand was one of Ylisse's deadliest opponents, second only to Grima himself. She had led countless battles against Naga's forces, utilizing brilliant battles tactics to secure victories. The strategies she used always decimated her enemies, crippled her own, and spelled a win for Grima. No one had ever seen her face and lived, but her devastating magic and Grimleal cloak was telling enough. For someone so important to come after Say'ri personally… Noire felt a swell of hope tinged with fear. Maybe this war wasn't so hopeless after all, if a powerful figure like Morgan was coming after one person, a single gem. Though what Say'ri intended to do with Vert was out of Noire's grasp.
She finished the emergency treatment with a tight knot and backed away. Noire tried to ignore the way the blood covered her hands and forearms or how the shadows of the trees accentuated Say'ri's pallor. The wounds were worse than she had initially thought. Morgan's magic must have sliced up key internal organs. "Listen, Noire. No matter what… happens… Vert must reach Ylisstol. To… Lissa." Say'ri picked up Vert with loving, careful, trembling fingers and placed it in Noire's palm. She closed the archer's fingers around the gem and pushed it towards the girl.
"The capital is almost... a day's ride away on horseback," she said. Her face was unreadable, but Noire had an inkling that she knew where this was headed.
Auntie Lissa had sent her to the small resistance encampment to aid an ally to the palace. The ally then turned out to be the princess of Chon'sin, a former Shepherd. What started out as a simple escort mission became one of dire importance, considering Vert-one of the missing Gemstones of the Fire Emblem-and Morgan-the one closest to the Fell Dragon-were both involved.
"I-I can't! Two is safer than one!" she argued weakly. Say'ri was not swayed from her resolution. "But safer does not mean faster," the swordswoman countered firmly. "Our foes have grown strong as of late, and will continue to do so by the second. Were I not injured… nay, I would have asked this of you anyways, child, with the events of this morn." Say'ri straightened her position. "I am weak. To burden the horse with my dead weight would be folly. Time would be wasted to accommodate me and by then Grima might have already struck. Nay! I will not allow it. Take Vert. Go to Ylisse."
Torn, Noire looked between the gem and the dying woman nervously. Vert glinted hopefully from her bloodied hands. The desperation and hope reflected in Say'ri's grey eyes. Both women knew that if Noire left now, there might be enough time to save Ylisse but surely not enough to save the former Shepherd. The wound in her side wouldn't necessarily kill her, no, but it would weaken her severely in battle. If, or rather, when the Risen find her, even the Chon'sin native would have trouble fending them off. Say'ri knew this perfectly well. She once again weakly pushed the hand holding the gem closer to Noire's chest.
Tears welled up in the archer's eyes and she nodded in understanding. "Thank you," she choked out. Noire stood up and readjusted her gear, making sure everything was intact. No clue where else to stash it, she carefully dropped the gem into her quiver with the rest of the arrows. At least she would always know where it was. A look up at the sky told her that almost no time had passed at all from her conversation with the Chon'sin woman. Indeed it had only been about a half an hour maximum since the Risen attack. If that scary blue-haired swordswoman had followed them, the walking corpses could show up at any time.
Say'ri tilted her head forward as a sign of respect and goodbye. "I perform what services I can for the Ylissean army. 'Tis the least I can do."
"I-I'll come back for you," Noire said once she mounted the horse. The beast reared its head and stamped its hooves, anticipating the long run. She held her bow tightly, as if doing so would bring her strength to carry out the task and lend truth to her words.
The princess of Chon'sin gave her a sad smile. In that moment, Noire could see the age and wisdom, regret and hope in the older woman. Say'ri was ready. "See to it that Lissa receives Vert."