Chapter Five: Retribution

My dreams that night were troubled. Though I slept through the night, I saw Emmeryn fall many times in my mind. Each time the same question arose: what could I have done differently?

I was awoken late the next morning by the sound of horns in the distance. I groggily extricated myself from my borrowed blankets and made my way up the stairs to the top of the watch tower. I emerged onto the tower's roof to find a clear blue sky and the sun high above. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept this late; all the traveling I'd done over the last few days must've taken more out of me than I'd thought.

To the east was the Plegian army, spread out across the rolling plains of the border. I was more than a little surprised, both at their numbers and that they were there at all. Gangrel must have begun gathering every soldier he could find after I'd taken my leave and marched north through the night to arrive here. I didn't know just how many soldiers Plegia had in its entire military, but with the desertions taking their toll I suspected that Gangrel couldn't call together any more men than this.

I couldn't find the Mad King himself in the horde, but that mystery was easily solved. Gangrel's banner was southwest of my position with his own force, massing around a sizable fortress he'd taken as a headquarters. They were but a fraction of the main army, but I was certain that those were Gangrel's elites with him. I suppose he had no desire to engage in combat himself after his narrow victory yesterday.

It seemed luck was with me in any case. Plegian soldiers could easily have marched up here to garrison the tower and I probably wouldn't have woken up before it was too late. Even now they didn't make a move. All of their attention was focused on the border. If there was to be a battle here, I would have a fine vantage from which to observe.

The horns sounded again – from the north. I squinted into the distance and could barely make out the vanguard of an approaching army. Rank after rank of soldiers came into my view as they marched towards the waiting Plegians. But there was something missing. I carefully scanned the lines of the advancing force, but I saw no trace of Ylisseans. This was an entirely Feroxi army, and now that they were closer I could make out Khans Basilio and Flavia at their head. Where were the Shepherds?

I felt increasingly uneasy as the Feroxi army continued its march. There was no way the Shepherds would willingly stay out of the battle that would likely decide the outcome of the entire war. Had Emmeryn's sacrifice shaken Chrom so much that he couldn't bring himself to fight? I had taken his measure, and I believed him to be stronger than that. But if I was wrong…

The battle was quickly approaching. It was evident from their advance that the Feroxi had no intention of parleying or lining up; they were going to march straight into combat, and may the gods help whoever stood in their way. Emmeryn had been a symbol to Regna Ferox as well, even if her peace was not theirs. I don't imagine the Khans were feeling very merciful at that particular moment.

I'm not certain whether the Plegian army sensed this or was still feeling the effects of Emmeryn's sacrifice, but it became more restless the closer the Feroxi came. I suspected that virtually every soldier who had been present at the castle yesterday was either dead or deserting, and many of the men in this army didn't seem ready to fight.

It was something I could never have predicted. I had heard Emmeryn telling her people that the Plegians wanted peace as much as we did, but perhaps I hadn't truly understood until now. She had always understood. Men would no longer obey Gangrel when he preached naught but hate, because they had seen another way. The Exalt had known that the price for freeing them was her life and had paid it without hesitation.

But Plegia would never be truly free until the Mad King no longer ruled it. Those who resisted him from within would never raise their hands to strike him down, for to do that would be to throw away what Emmeryn had shown them. I was reminded of Chrom's words back in Ylisstol, when he affirmed that he would act as death's agent and kill Gangrel when the time came. That agent of death was needed now.

The Feroxi horns sounded one last time before the two armies collided. They were answered by yet more horns to the northwest. A signal of some sort? But there were no Feroxi forces in the field opposite Gangrel's position. There seemed to be nothing there at all, until the sunlight caught polished steel far below and reflected, betraying what was hidden there.

The Shepherds' spirit had not been broken.

Somehow, they had hidden their movement along the side of the field and only now showed themselves as they advanced towards Gangrel's position. Panicked shouts rose amongst his guards, who hurriedly organized themselves for battle. The Mad King himself remained secure in his fortress while Plegian troops poured out of the gate to meet the attack.

The Ylisseans maintained a measured approach as they crossed the field. This wasn't a desperate rush or a sneak attack meant to fade away; it was rather as though they had shown up for an appointed meeting. Perhaps it was. Gangrel had to have died at some point in the war during my time, and it might have been in a battle much like this one. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. That was the nature of time.

A field of battle swiftly took shape before my eyes. The Plegians divided into three main groups, one remaining with Gangrel while the other two took up positions between the Shepherds and the fortress. They seemed intent on fighting a defensive battle. I watched curiously as the Shepherds drew close to the two groups of Plegian soldiers. What manner of strategy would Destin employ this time to give his companions the advantage?

It didn't take long for me to find out. The moment the Shepherds came into range of the Plegians they halted their advance entirely. A hail of projectiles began issuing from behind their front line; spells of all kinds, arrows, and even javelins and throwing axes tore into the Plegian force. They responded with their own spell barrage, but against the much better organized Shepherds it availed them little. Blasts of lightning and flame struck shields and dissipated before they could do any real damage.

Another volley from the Shepherds was too much for the Plegians to ignore. Both forward groups charged in a shouting mass, the frontrunners swiftly closing with the Ylissean line. Yet the Shepherds didn't offer a straight battle, instead retreating a dozen paces before resuming projectile fire. They continued this staggered retreat, and every time they stopped more Plegians hit the front line and died. I could see where this was going. Each volley reduced the enemy's numbers further, and rather than hitting the Shepherds in one massive wave they were forced to attack in smaller numbers. And once they'd reached their limit…

…the trap closed. The Ylissean cavalry, both Pegasus Knights and conventional horse mounted warriors, surged forward from behind the line to flank the disorganized Plegians on both sides. It took them completely by surprise. Surrounded and goaded into a fury by the Shepherds' tactics, the Plegians charged forward into the line without regard for their lives. The flanking cavalry cut inwards, and the entire Plegian force collapsed. In mere moments they had been annihilated.

I spared a minute to look east at the clash between the larger armies. To my astonishment, that battle was already over. The Feroxi controlled the field, and the only remaining groups of Plegian soldiers were either prisoners or deserters. Spread all across my field of vision were Plegians in ones and twos wandering away from the field, their weapons left behind. I wondered if this was what Emmeryn had foreseen when she'd made her decision; a nation abandoning vengeance and war, turning inward to find meaning in all that had happened.

Basilio and Flavia were now leading a portion of their men around to where the Shepherds were approaching Gangrel's location, though they did not seem to be in any hurry. I suppose they intended to leave the Mad King to Chrom.

The watch tower had proven to be an excellent vantage point from which to view the larger picture, but I found myself wanting to get closer to observe this final conflict. I don't know whether it was a desire to see justice done or morbid curiosity, but I wanted to see the Mad King's fall up close. To this end, I left the tower and made my way down the hill towards Gangrel's fortress. The field directly in front of the fort was lined with small clumps of trees, and it was in one of these that I hid myself.

I'd arrived not a minute too soon. A great roar went up from the fortress, and the remaining Plegian soldiers charged out through the gates to meet the Shepherds. Clearly Gangrel had been hiding more men inside – his force nearly doubled as more and more troops exited concealed rooms and joined the attack. It seemed that the Mad King was no longer interested in running away, for I spotted Gangrel himself in the midst of his men, rallying them onwards. He was probably determined to take as many Ylisseans with him as possible out of sheer spite.

The Shepherds, though caught off guard by the headlong rush, swiftly formed a defensive line in preparation for the onslaught. From this range I could make out the individuals in the crowd, and I was relieved to see both Chrom and Destin at the front, uninjured. But even I could see that this fight was not going to go as easily for them as the last one had.

Things only got worse when a brigade of Plegian wyvern riders rose from cover on the side of the field opposite me and swooped towards the Shepherds. The Ylissean Pegasus Knights took to the air and moved to head them off. I spotted my mother among them; I hoped she would be well, but her fate was out of my hands.

The main Plegian force smashed into the Shepherds, the sounds of battle rising like a macabre symphony. My father and his companions handled the initial rush well, but the sheer number of the Plegians allowed them to flank the Shepherds and surround them. The Ylissean line began to fracture as their fighters were forced to move further out to defend themselves. It quickly devolved into a chaotic brawl, all thoughts of organization and strategy discarded.

I searched through the mass of combatants, looking for my father. I couldn't find him in the confusion, but I did spot the familiar black-coated form of Destin; he had advanced far into the Plegian ranks, and was close enough to my side of the field that I could see him clearly. Plegian soldiers attacked him from all sides, but he nimbly evaded their strikes and countered with his sword and magic in equal measure. Within moments he had downed several of his assailants.

Another man charged him, leading with a wild overhand slash that Destin deflected away from him. To my surprise, it was Gangrel himself. He continued his offensive, savagely slashing at Destin with his jagged sword. Destin parried each strike in turn, swiftly turning the tables on the Mad King by launching into his own assault. Gangrel was pushed back a dozen steps before he disengaged. A gesture with his sword launched a bolt of magic at Destin, who intercepted it with a blast of lightning from his left hand.

Destin swiftly closed the gap between them, pressing Gangrel hard to prevent him from launching any more magical attacks. Gangrel, vicious and cunning though he might be, couldn't keep up with his opponent's swordsmanship in an honest fight. Destin's sword slipped past his guard and nicked the Mad King's shoulder before sweeping down and cutting deeply into his leg. Gangrel fell to one knee, at which point Destin's next blow knocked his sword right out of his hands and sent him to the ground.

I thought Destin would finish Gangrel off then and there, but as he drew back a pair of Plegian soldiers attacked him from both sides. He easily avoided them, stabbing one through the gut and slashing the other's throat open, but the distraction gave Gangrel time to recover. His hands scrabbled across the earth, picking up his sword in one hand and a fistful of dirt in the other. He snuck towards Destin, and when the Ylissean tactician turned back to face him he hurled the loose dirt into Destin's face.

Destin reeled back, trying to rub the earth out of his eyes. Gangrel seized the opportunity and lunged at him, knocking him onto his back. He might have been the more skilled fighter, but nearly blind and with his back to the ground there wasn't much Destin could do to fight back. Gangrel brutally knocked Destin's sword aside and raised his own, preparing for a finishing blow.

My heart stuttered slightly as I watched. Was this the moment of Destin's death? He was fated to fall at some point, and he was incapable of defending himself. My eyes slid off of the figures before me, desperate to see anything but the murder about to occur. In the utter chaos of the battle, none of Destin's allies had noticed his peril.

None except for Chrom. He dispatched the Plegian he was facing and turned to see Gangrel standing over his friend, sword raised. My father had lost many things to Gangrel's machinations, his sister Emmeryn most of all. Now he saw the Mad King ready to take the life of his best friend as well. But this time was different – this time he could do something about it. His rage, which I knew had been simmering since the beginning of this ugly war, erupted.

"GANGREL!" Chrom bellowed furiously. He took two steps and then launched into a flying leap that closed the distance between them in an instant. I gawked unashamedly from my hiding place. I would never have believed that such a jump was even possible.

The Mad King turned at the sound of his name, just in time to find Chrom bearing down on him with the force of an avalanche. He flung his sword up in a desperate attempt to defend himself. It wasn't enough; the sheer power behind Falchion was too much. Gangrel's sword shattered into fragments from Chrom's blow, and Falchion continued unimpeded into his skull. The tip of the sword slashed all the way down Gangrel's chest and stomach, emerging from between his legs and sinking into the dirt.

The sheer force of the contact threw Gangrel backwards. He rolled end over end and came to rest face down several feet from where he'd been standing. He did not rise again.

Mad King Gangrel was dead.

There was a minute of near dead silence as the remaining fighters, Plegians and Ylisseans both, stared at Gangrel's body. Every soldier on the field had heard Chrom's echoing shout and had turned instinctively to watch. Chrom walked over and offered his hand to Destin, who grasped it and was pulled to his feet. It seemed that this wasn't his day to die after all.

With Gangrel dead, the majority of the surviving Plegians simply dropped their weapons and surrendered. A handful, the most bloodthirsty and fanatical of the Mad King's followers, tried to keep fighting but were swiftly cut down. The wyvern riders had been driven from the sky by Sumia and the Pegasus Knights. This battle was over, and with it the entire war.

I watched as Chrom and Destin made their way closer to Gangrel's fort and were soon joined by Basilio and Flavia, who had arrived with their troops shortly after the battle's conclusion. Although victory was theirs, there were still many decisions that needed to be made concerning the Plegian prisoners and the administration of this now broken country. I certainly didn't envy them those decisions. Creating a peace that satisfied everyone with a defeated enemy wouldn't be easy.

A flutter of wings caught my eye as one of the Pegasus Knights flew down and landed beside Chrom and the others. A smile curved my lips as my mother dismounted and ran towards Chrom. The hard decisions would have to wait a while longer. Sumia had described this moment to me when I was still young – what little girl doesn't want to know how her parents fell in love? I'd never expected to witness it myself.

Destin and the Khans quietly excused themselves and walked back towards the Shepherds. And now that I thought about it, this was probably a good time for me to follow their example and leave. My parents deserved their moment alone.

It proved easier to sneak away than I had anticipated. Both the Shepherds and the Feroxi army were tired and a tad careless in their triumph, and slipping north into Regna Ferox didn't take me long. From there I sought out a quiet place in the wilderness where I could think. I settled down next to a clear river and paused to wash my face in the water.

We had reached the end of this particular chapter of history. The next two years would be peaceful ones which the nations of this continent would spend recovering from the war. There had been enough losses on all sides that no one would risk another conflict. It would not be until the invasion of the Valmese from the sea that war would come again. There would be no need for my intervention during these two years, and so I needed to decide what I was going to do during that time.

I still hoped to find the others who had gone through the Rift with me, but there was only so much I could do. As long as all of us were lying low, there was little chance that we would come into contact even if I searched relentlessly. If just one of us came into the open, it would provide a beacon for any others who had arrived to rally around. I had a feeling that was going to have to be me; my comrades, while reasonably skilled fighters and fine people, were definitely not leaders. Perhaps I wasn't either, but I would try nonetheless.

It was essential that I wait for the appropriate time to reveal myself. That time was not now. Thus, it came back down to waiting again. I disliked the prospect of simply lounging around for two years, but the simple truth was that there was little I could achieve in pursuit of my goal of changing the future at this time.

I would not sit idle, no matter what. If nothing else I would train myself further, honing my skills with the sword. I had discovered from Emmeryn's capture among other things that I needed to adjust my mindset to dealing with humans as enemies. Had I been better prepared, I might have been able to save her.

My journey was not over, rather it had just begun. Bigger threats to this world loomed on the horizon, and when they came, I would be ready.