Something to Fight for
Winds from the east lashed the grass plains and marshalled dark clouds into the skies above Pherae. The taste of rain hung in the air. But the clouds had yet to release their load. They seemed to wait. Wait for a command from Naga so the torrents may set the scene for the victory of a small group of Alteans and Lorca against their yearlong oppressor – or a bloodbath.
With new horses, curtesy of Rath and his brethren, Lucina's party circled the northern hillocks of the Copper Mountains within a few days and let the wind in their backs push them towards the border and the fields of Pherae beyond. Another three days to the southwest, past wheat and rye, waited Lycia.
Sixty men and women against the elite of Pherae's knights.
Sixty rusty swords against an army.
Lucina had increased her chances by winning over the Lorca, and she had in the process doubled the number of her followers. But the sheer might at Roy's disposal nevertheless dwarfed the few pieces she had to play with. A few people riding alongside her were heading into their undoing, into the fire and death Navarre had prophesized. Unless Naga worked a miracle.
Under the shadow of thunderclouds, three wyvern miles from the border, the rebels marched into Eltrys. A low brick wall separated the Pheraen town from the surrounding fields, a wall for peace time, not for war. Few soldiers patrolled the streets or guarded the gates, and the Pheraen flag hung in the still air out of routine, not to intimidate.
By the time alarmed shouts came from the soldiers, Cherche's wyvern had descended onto the town and tore apart every piece of Pheraen armor her reptile eyes spotted.
Lucina gritted her teeth. "Tell the others to keep casualties low. No Pheraen soldier should die unless absolutely necessary," she shouted towards Frederick and spurred her horse.
He called after her to wait for an escort, but by then her mount had leaped over Eltrys' wall and out of earshot. She needed to stop Cherche. A frightened enemy falls back on drastic measures to ensure their survival. If the soldiers took Eltrys' civilians hostage or set the town on fire in a last effort to erase the threat to their Empire, Lucina would have no choice but to yield. Her image as the promised savior born from King Marth's ashes was the key to find the new recruits she so desperately needed – a slaughter through the people under her command would only paint her in the same light as the tyrant the Alteans saw in Roy.
The clatter of hooves on the stone behind her caused Lucina to falter, and she threw a look above her shoulder, half expecting to find the masked figure of a Black Fang assassin on her heels.
Ike. He chased his bay stallion past the clay and brick façades and kept pace with Lucina's mad dash in spite of the treacherous cobblestone path. His weren't the riding skills of a simple farmer boy who had received his first lessons on the back of a lame mule. What other secrets did he hide behind the brisk nod he gave Lucina?
She had no time to dwell on potential answers. As soon as they raced out of the street and into a plaza, the cry of a wyvern thundered overhead, and Lucina's horse reared. Civilians pressed into the shadow of a tower across the square. A child wailed. A cluster of half a dozen Pheraen soldiers dove for cover as the claws of Cherche's wyvern tore into the ground between them. The creature ripped out a talon-ful of bricks.
This attack had missed. With a disappointed shriek, the wyvern pivoted to prepare the next strike.
Images of Persis flashed before Lucina. A different wyvern, a different commander; but the same helplessness in the attacked as they scrambled for the nearest building entrance.
"STOP!" Lucina shouted and buried her heels into her horse's flanks. "Stop, Cherche, that's enough! Don't you see that they're defeated?"
The wyvern turned. A last shriek sounded the creature's frustration before it descended to perch on the roof of the city hall. Lucina relaxed her shoulders. The Pheraen soldiers lowered the hands they had used to shield their heads, shaken with disbelief over the fact that they had escaped the beast. Then they ran. Whether they fled Eltrys or hoped to regroup and fight again in a different quarter of the town, Lucina couldn't tell.
She breathed more easily either way.
Ike glared at her, but Lucina ignored him and directed her horse towards the wide steps at the tower's entrance where the civilians cowered. Five sections gave the tower its distinct shape, one part stacked atop the other where each one spanned a few feet less than the last. A house of Naga.
Lucina dismounted and soon found herself surrounded by the civilians. They reached for her hands, some in awe, some in disbelief.
"Naga heard our prayers—"
"You saved us from the claws of the wyvern!"
"Oh, please, lady knight, you must defend this town against the rebel invasion—"
"Say, are the rumors true? Are you the daughter of the Altean king?"
The amount of questions and faces overtaxed Lucina for a moment, and she was glad when Ike's large shadow convinced the townspeople to back away. His grim expression did its part in discouraging the lot. He evidently harbored a few gripes with Lucina's strategy but for now chose to keep them to himself.
"Mind if I go after them?" he asked and nodded towards the alley into which the soldiers had disappeared.
"Later," Lucina said and returned her focus to the civilians.
A woman with a red ribbon woven into her hair raised her voice to Lucina after a wary look in Ike's direction. "Are you part of the Altean rebellion?" She gestured towards the man next to her, a giant with the paws of a blacksmith. "My husband and I used to live in Altea, in the town at the foot of the Glass Fortress. Say, is it true that Marth's daughter is alive? We heard rumors about her victories in Persis and Aurelis."
Lucina glanced at Ike. "I am Marth's daughter. But Aurelis wasn't my—"
"Oh, thank Naga!" The woman took Lucina's hands in hers. "For all these years we thought the royal family had died out. But what brings you to Eltrys now?"
"I am leading the rebellion towards Lycia. We have all sworn to remove the king from the imperial throne."
The woman furrowed as though Lucina had presented her with a nonsensical riddle. "I don't understand. Why would you want to remove His Highness, King Roy?"
Now it was Lucina's turn to struggle against confusion. "Don't you know that he is murdering innocent Alteans? He declared war against the supporters of Naga and enslaved the people of Talys into his army."
The woman gave Lucina a belittling smile. "No, no, child, you must be mistaken. His Highness wouldn't harm the supporters of Naga; many Pheraens are true believers too. No, His Highness has only brought good things to Archanea."
Ike flexed his fingers and tried hard to look and listen the other way.
"But you yourself said you lived at the Glass Fortress," Lucina said, still unable to comprehend. "Then you must have seen the destruction Roy caused there, the people he killed."
"I don't know about these political things, but His Highness was very generous with us when he overtook the Glass Fortress. He allowed us to start a new life here in Eltrys. And look around you, there is peace and prosperity wherever you go. It's nothing like the constant fighting before he unified the lands. And without his blessed rule, we could have never rebuilt Naga's tower into the beautiful monument you see today. Isn't it wonderful?"
A few civilians nodded to the woman's words. A work-bent granny murmured a praise to His Highness.
Lucina couldn't believe her ears. Here she had thought to be the only one deceived by Roy, the only one wrapped in disillusions about the glory of his kingship. Here she had thought everyone with a drop of Altean blood had no choice but to hate him. Yet in Eltrys, the people didn't see Roy as the enemy. He didn't threaten their existence, he didn't silence them or disturbed their prayers. The rebels did.
"Ignorance," Ike growled. "The shield of idiots. Any idea how many people your precious highness left for dead, lady? Or how many he massacred for his own amusement?"
The woman jutted her chin. "These stories are nothing more than the defamation tactic of the rebels. But of course, a brute like you doesn't understand. All your hands are good for is destruction. I bet you haven't done a day's worth of honest work in your life, rebel."
Ike again flexed his fingers, and the golden gleam of his sword peaked out of his cloak. Lucina still wrestled with the immobilizing chains of disbelief and doubt. Hadn't she abandoned her uncertainty of Roy's character? Hadn't he shown his true face when he had stabbed her in Terra? Then why did her fingers tremble? Why did Marth's letter weigh heavier in the folds of her tunic? What if…
"Will you truly go to the capital and murder His Highness?" a hook-nosed man with a sly spark in his eyes asked.
"I have to…" Lucina said, half in trance; the waves of Terra's bay had swallowed her anew, and they flung her left and right, over and under, and the steps of Naga's tower tilted. "It's what Naga chose me for…"
"That's treason!" A few voices in the crowd echoed the man's call. "You're mad!"
"Someone stop her!"
"We can't let her escape!"
The hook-nosed man jumped out of the mess of angry fists and angry faces. A knife with ragged edges sprung out of the depths of his sleeve. Lucina let him come. This time, Frederick wouldn't reach her side in time. Tiki wouldn't emerge at the last second. Naga's chosen champion would finally bleed out on the stones of a nameless plaza, far away from her destiny.
A golden lightning bolt filled Lucina's vision. The hand with the knife flew. Someone screamed in agony, and only after several heartbeats did Lucina realize it wasn't her voice.
The severed hand of her attacker splatted on the cobblestone. Ike stood in front of her with his sword in hand, and the civilians scattered under screams until only the hook-nosed man remained. He pressed the stump of his right arm to his chest and backed away. Ike followed.
"P-please," the man said and rummaged in the pockets of his doublet. "Have mercy, young man. I only did what I had to do. Orders are orders, right? And she's a traitor." He stumbled backwards. "You wouldn't kill an unarmed man, would you?"
Ike continued his pursuit.
"Oh, please, have mercy!" the man shrieked. "In the name of Naga!"
Ike raised his sword. "I don't believe in Naga."
One stroke cut the panicked screams short.
The sounds of combat outside Naga's tower had died. In their stead, silence reigned the five-story chamber, this awful, awestruck silence which followers of Naga loved to fill with their prayers. But only one figure huddled in front of the stand with five-story candles, entranced by their fragile flames or maybe desperate to find out with what plea the believers had lit them.
"You really must have a death wish," Ike said and ran his fingernail across the ragged edge of the assassin's knife.
Sharp enough to cut chainmail. And once the blade pierced human skin, the barbs ensured that any attempts to pull the knife out would give the unlucky victim an even nastier wound. A deadly tool used and perfected by a single guild: the Black Fang.
Lucina kept her eyes on the candles when she spoke. "What do you mean?"
Ike pushed away from the wall he had leaned against and let his gaze wander across the balconies above and the statue of Naga dangling from the ceiling like a sumptuous, jade-embellished chandelier.
"For one," he said, "we could have avoided that scene back there if you had gotten rid of Navarre."
"The Black Fang would have found me with or without his help."
"Fair enough, but I'm just getting started. That, back there on those steps, was laughable. The assassin was from the Black Fang's cleaning staff at best, considering I stood a few feet away and still found the time to stop the blow. I've seen you fight; you could have decapitated that assassin long before he reached you. So. Why didn't you do it?"
Lucina's hand wandered to her left collarbone. Ike had seen her perform the same motion a few times. Probably a nervous habit of hers.
"I think I wanted to see whether he would succeed," she said after a while.
"You realize how insane that sounds?"
Lucina acknowledged Ike's presence with a look for the first time since he had followed her into the tower. Her smile failed before it took shape. "No matter how you slice it, I should have died a few times already. Frederick and Tiki saved me in Persis, you did the same in Aurelis. And in Terra, Roy had every opportunity to kill me. Every assassin in Pherae is on my trail. Despite all this, I still breathe. I guess I wanted to see Naga's protective hand over me finally fail."
Ike glared at the statue above them. "Naga's protective hand… Even if they exist, gods don't concern themselves with the likes of us. We're mortals after all. Most of us die too quickly to make a difference. Why would you be different?"
"I don't know. But I talked to Naga, face to face. It's only because of her that I've gone as far as I have."
"Some elusive goddess is a pretty shabby motivator to ride into certain death against an almighty empire."
Lucina laughed, but the joy fled her face with the next flicker of the candles. "Maybe you're right. But what else should I do? I lived on someone else's path my entire life. Roy shaped me into a weapon against my homeland, my father begged me in his final letter to follow in his footsteps, and Naga said it were my destiny to topple the Pheraen Empire. What if the path I follow now is just as wrong as the one I left?"
"You can't be serious with that. You're gonna back down just because some local idiot has nothing better to do than kiss Roy's feet for a living?"
"The woman had a point…"
"She didn't. Her wealth and her pretty Naga tower are built on the broken backs of ten thousand people from Tellius, Altea, and Sacae."
Lucina studied Ike's face with an intensity that made him flinch. A moment ago, she had kneeled without purpose in front of a row of candles, and now she had reclaimed this creepy look of hers with which she spied on other people's deepest secrets.
"I wish I had your conviction," she said.
Ike returned her gaze. "How about instead of fighting for someone else, you figure out your own reason to keep going?"
A smile, a real one this time, brightened Lucina's face. The suffocating emptiness of the tower retreated, and a tangible warmth bounced from the marble pillars, stronger than the candleflames and their unanswered prayers.
"Those aren't the words of a simple guy who picked up a greater man's sword," Lucina said and rose to her feet. "Thank you."
She opened her mouth as though she wanted to add something, stepped forward as though she hoped to bridge the ravine that had separated them for the past days, but the double doors to the plaza burst open before she managed either. Cherche entered the chamber alongside a squall of boundless energy, pranced across the checkerboard tiles, and soaked in the splendor. Although she had the upright carriage of a queen, she failed to conceal her reverence over the unfamiliar riches on display, from the watercolor frescos about the creation of the world to Naga's statue looking down at them.
"So this is where you've been hiding yourself," Cherche said to Lucina once she had crossed the length of the round hall. "Your bodyguard is looking for you. And a bunch of townsfolk are all over us because they want to sneak a peek at the hero of Persis."
Due to a severe lack of benches, Cherche, as usual, abused Ike's right arm as a pillar to lean against. Lucina watched her antics with a weird, almost disappointed frown, and she took a moment longer than necessary to address Cherche.
"Why would the people want to see me?" she asked.
Cherche snuggled deeper into Ike's shoulder. "A few of them used to be Alteans, so I guess they wanna follow you into battle. If you give them another one of your speeches, you know, like the one at the Lorca camp, I'm sure they will trample each other just to be the first in line to sign up for your rebellion."
"I hope they won't," Lucina murmured. before she asked, "what about the other residents?"
"Well, your fan club seems to include a couple Pheraens too," Cherche said. "Rumor has it you spared the lives of some Pheraen soldiers at Persis, and they are repeating your monologue there to everyone who listens. Your words about coexisting in peace has met open ears in every Naga-supportive community. Second credo and all that."
Lucina nodded but said nothing. Neither did she walk outside and held a speech as Cherche had suggested. Ike wondered if perhaps he had burdened her with one hard truth too many. What did he know about the troubles she fought against? And why should he care anyway?
Because she was the leader the rebels needed.
Damn it. Ike had blinked once, and all of a sudden, the simple matter of overthrowing Roy had gained a level of uncertainty about as easy to navigate as a wyvern nest. With a blindfold on.
"Well, there's another thing I wanted to say actually," Cherche said when Lucina refused to move. "I don't think I ever thanked you for getting Virion out of Persis. It means a lot. You know, it's hard to find another guy with his excess of personality." She chuckled, but the genuine gratitude reverberated in her voice. "If you had left it to Cordelia, she would have doubled the locks on his cell. I might have never seen him again… So, thank you."
"Don't thank me," Lucina said. "Virion and the horses he offered us were a vital part of our campaign thus far."
"Still, we owe you. A lot more than we can repay if you also manage to kick Roy from his throne."
Lucina didn't answer right away, so Ike jumped in for her. "It's a work in process, right, Lucina?"
She smiled at him, thankful for the support. "Yes, I'm still working out the details. But Cherche, if I can ask a favor, please don't rush into the fray like this again. You and your wyvern are essential for our cause, and we can't risk to lose either of you in an uncoordinated charge."
"Guess I did overdo it a little here, huh?" Cherche grinned. "What can I say, Minerva has an intense hunger for Pheraen armor. But I'll make sure to shorten the reins once we're at Lycia, promise."
Ike freed his arm from Cherche and rolled his shoulders. This senseless hanging about gave his old wounds and scars unwanted time to remind him of their existence.
"Speaking of Pheraen armor," he said, "any soldiers left we should worry about?"
Cherche retaliated Ike's rude push with an elbow to his hipbone before she answered. "A few leftovers have barricaded themselves near the south gate. But last I heard, Soren has them cornered."
"Good. We wouldn't want any of them to get away and inform dear old Roy about our marching route."
Ike turned for the doors, ready to hack a couple Pheraens to pieces. That task possessed a beautiful simplicity. Unlike the whole conundrum surrounding Lucina and her lack of commitment.
But Lucina awakened out of her stupor and caught up with him halfway through the chamber. "Are we clear that unnecessary cruelty needs to be avoided at all costs?" she asked. Her uncertainty had vanished, and the steel in her voice could cut through dragon scales.
Ike, although he wavered for a second, marched ahead. "I'll make sure to behead them gently."
"I'm being serious."
"I'm too. If word spreads about our whereabouts, our troop strength, anything of use for the enemy, we'll drop dead before we even reach Lycia."
"That's no reason to slaughter simple soldiers."
Ike stopped and bent down to bring his point across through the good old height advantage. "It's enough reason for me. You're a great leader and political player. But on the battle field, you're out of your league. So, while you do what you do best, how about you let me do what I dobest? Or do you rather want to give up the rebellion altogether?"
"No." This single word carried an unwavering resolve, everything Lucina had been lacking when she had stared into the candle flames. "I will find my own reason to fight. Until then, you can count on me to bring your rebellion to the king's doorsteps."
She never seemed to run out of ways to surprise Ike.
He stepped back. "Glad to hear it. Now go and give a speech that will rally the entirety of Eltrys behind us."
"I will," Lucina said. "If you promise to spare any Pheraen soldiers who choose to surrender."
"I'll think about it."
The heavy, prayer-infested air of the tower's insides intoxicated Ike, and he fled to the overcast streets of Eltrys before he really started to think about it. Sparing members of the enemy faction – those same people who enslaved, hanged, and decapitated Alteans on a daily basis. Cain, Abel, Oscar, and countless other comrades of Ike had died at their hands. And like Oscar, Lucina would reunite with her creator sooner than she liked unless she gave up the childish notion of saving everyone.
A world in the hands of people like Roy and the Black Knight didn't work that way.
Ike took a deep breath; the air promised steel and blood. Then he pushed through the crowd of townspeople towards where the wind waged war against the last eagles of Eltrys. Lucina's request haunted him with every step.
They had barricaded themselves in an alleyway, used crates and chairs and wine barrels from the neighboring shops as cover. Two of them had dared the run for the outer wall and the obscurity of the wheat fields beyond. Their lifeless eyes stared at the sky as a final accusation against the gods who had allowed their demise. All the prayers in the world hadn't saved Eltrys from the invasion.
Ironic.
Soren and Gregor held off the small group of Pheraens alone. If Soren's wind magic failed to convince a foe to stay back, Gregor's crude sword, dirtied with blood, persuaded them.
Maybe a dozen soldiers cowered behind their makeshift barrier; frightened, unorganized, defeated where they stood. A frontal attack would break their formation and scatter them like a flock of sparrows. Panic immobilized them already. One or two whimpered. But they stretched their halberds towards the enemy regardless. The Empire's drills were anchored tightly in their muscles.
Ike skidded to a halt beside Soren and cast off his cloak. The loose fabric would only hinder his movements.
"Glad to be fighting side by side with you after all," Gregor said and fastened the grip around his sword. "Almost like the good old days."
"Before or after Persis?"
Soren somehow managed to sigh and tsk at Ike at the same time. "I hope you one day choke on your sarcasm. Do we have new orders?"
"Lucina wants to go the peaceful route," Ike said. "But as you like to tell me, I have the sensitivity of a brick wall. So as far as I'm concerned, we can skip the political games."
"And in your very words, you once again prove my point. I for one would prefer not to make an enemy out of our leader. She has Naga's favors, and the will of the goddess should not be trifled with."
Gregor nodded with a little too much enthusiasm. "Lucina has proven herself as a priceless sword to our war many times. Not to mention she's King Marth's daughter. I'll follow her example."
"Then, by all means, take it away." Ike unclipped Ragnell from his back. "I'm gonna stand aside and wait for the inevitable moment where the negotiations fail."
"Your faith is truly encouraging." Soren stepped forward and raised his voice to address the Pheraens beyond their makeshift fence of spear heads. "As you must have noticed by now, you cannot win this fight, and the longer you hold out, the more of your comrades will fall. Lay down your arms. If you surrender, we will guarantee your survival."
The enemy gave no answer. They passed around a few hushed arguments, but moments later, they readjusted their halberds, and the steel blades stood poised for battle.
Ike raised Ragnell. "Violence it is then."
Soren and Gregor covered his sides. The air stood still; the sounds of the wind brushing through the wheat hems had faded. The blood roared in Ike's ears, and he raised Ragnell higher. He counted his breaths.
Before he reached the number seven, the Pheraens abandoned their hiding spots and charged. Uncoordinated. Sloppy. They almost ran into each other.
The storm contained by Soren's fingertips broke loose and swept one soldier from his feet and into the second-story window of a wine merchant's. It rained glass shards.
Ike sidestepped the first soldier who reached him, split first the halberd in his hands and then his skull. Blood ran down Ragnell's ridge and created this familiar tapestry of red and gold, this sight Ike had seen a hundred times. A whirl on his heels brought him face to face with the next enemy.
And the next.
His heartbeat drummed in his ears, the taste of iron filled his mouth, and where he spotted a piece of Pheraen armor in his periphery, soon only a golden stria remained as Ragnell sliced through the enemy. Before one body hit the ground, Ike had zeroed in on his next target. Each strike served as a needle in the Empire's fat flesh, each attack another wound closer to its collapse. And Ike relished the frenzy.
He might have lost the duel against Lucina, but here, on the dirty street of some Pheraen city, against a wave of interchangeable soldiers, no one could oppose him. This was his arena. His profession and his mission.
The enemy advance wavered. Rivulets of blood ran along the furrows between the cobblestones. And before Ragnell could tear into the next enemy, the boy dropped his spear, held his hands between his face and the golden blade, and screamed at the top of his lungs.
"I surrender!" He repeated the two words like a prayer. "I surrender! I don't wanna die! Please!"
Lucina's face flashed before Ike's eyes.
Promise to spare any Pheraen soldiers who choose to surrender.
Since when did Ike listen to an order? Since when did he bother with other people's requests? But this honest conviction in Lucina's face stopped his hand. She might not know why she kept up the fight. But the passionate belief in the way she wanted to win knew no equal.
Maybe the awe others felt in Lucina's presence had crept into Ike at last because his sword arm resigned its duty and defied its training. The boy slipped in the blood of his comrades. He barely held himself together while he kicked and trembled and whimpered on the ground.
And Ike left him there. The cries for Pheraen blood had stopped, and he faced the remaining two soldiers with an unfamiliar serenity. One of them met a quick end through Ragnell, the other fell under Gregor's sword.
"At least we now have confirmation that Roy will remain in the dark about our operation for a while longer," Soren said and straightened his robe. "Still, this business is an undeniable waste of human potential. As self-determined beings, we should strive to do better."
"We're not done yet." Gregor pointed at something past Ike's shoulder.
He whirled around. The boy had climbed to his feet and raced towards the opening in the outer wall. He had almost reached the safety of the corn fields.
"If he escapes and reaches Lycia, the king will know of our location," Soren said.
Ike picked up the boy's abandoned spear. "On it."
The boy stumbled, but despite his rattling breath and the frightened tears streaming down his face, he dragged himself forward. Ike took aim. The boy's back provided an easy target. In a moment he would join the countless Pherans Ike had cut through to reach his goal.
Another nameless face, nothing more.
Promise to spare any Pheraen soldiers who choose to surrender.
Ike couldn't lock Lucina's voice out of his head. Three more steps and the boy could touch the outer wheat hems.
Ike hurled the spear forward, a flick of his fingers so simple.
The deadly steel head struck the ground with enough force to split the brittle earth. The boy glanced at the weapon that had missed him by half a foot before he disappeared into the refuge of the wheat field.
"Are you certain your right arm didn't sustain major injuries as well?" Soren asked. "You aren't one to miss a target. Unfortunately, what is lost cannot be changed. We simply have to prepare for the worst possible welcome when we reach the walls of Lycia."
Ike reclipped Ragnell to his back. "He got lucky. It won't happen again."
Soren nodded but his expression revealed he didn't believe a word. "Certainly. In the meantime, I propose you relate the event to our leader with due speed. You and her will have to combine all your strategic wits to stage the siege on Lycia. Enjoy the talk."
Soren waved Ike and Gregor goodbye, and embarked on a journey to find a quiet place to reflect and read, most likely.
Gregor placed a scarred hand on Ike's shoulder. "Don't worry about the boy, I doubt he'll reach Lycia on foot before we do," he said. "And even if he does, both you and Lucina have overcome worse odds. This time we finally take back Altea."
"Sure."
But Ike didn't work his jaws or clenched his fists because he had missed the Pheraen boy. The reason for why the spear had missed concerned him.
No, Ike did not at all look forward to reporting to Lucina. She might not spy on the rebels for Roy, but she had seized the rebellion and every last one of its members, and she wouldn't ease her grip around their wrists. Including Ike's.
Then again, who other than her could claim to have beaten him in a fight? Who but her had the ability to tear down the imperial flag?
Ike quickened his pace. The echoes of Lucina's latest speech rang through the alleyways while he headed back towards the plaza.
After her speech tailored towards the crowd of Naga supporters swarming all across Eltrys, Lucina could add another dozen inexperienced but dedicated fighters to her ranks. A word about her identity as Marth's daughter earned her the instant loyalty of former Alteans. A mention of Naga or her credos brought her joyful tears and a wave of approving shouts.
They believed more in Lucina's words than she did.
She allowed her shoulders to slack when the rows of spectators thinned, and Frederick took it upon himself to equip the new recruits with weapons and a lecture on knightly discipline. He made for an excellent general even if he needed someone else's strategic genius to win his war. In a rebuilt Altea, he could shape a new generation of knights into an army worthy of the golden days. Was this not an image worth fighting for?
Lucina's absentminded smile widened when Ike emerged from the crowd and joined her on the steps before Naga's tower. New bloodstains freckled his arms, but he seemed unharmed.
"It looks like you did what you do best," he said with a nod towards the new recruits.
Lucina nodded. "And you?"
"I may have slipped once. We need to talk."
Out of all her comrades, Lucina had least expected Ike to come forward and ask for a conversation. Soren might have sought an elaboration of her encounter with Naga, and Frederick always had this or that concern in regards to her plan. But not Ike. Before today, he had avoided Lucina with painstaking stubbornness.
Once again, he had sparked her curiosity. A walking enigma. A riddle in need of answers.
With a grin, Lucina grabbed his wrist and pulled Ike towards the tower. "Okay, let's talk."
He was too baffled to object or free himself from Lucina's clutch. Finally she had managed to make him trip. And so, Lucina dragged Ike through the tower's wide gates and to the set of stairs that wound its way to the upper balconies. With each step, Lucina felt the ever-present weight on her chest ease, and she climbed above the grasps of Roy's assassins and her paranoia. Breathless like a child, she scaled the stairs, skipping every other step.
"Aren't the upper stories forbidden for non-believers?" Ike asked. "You sure you want to live with a sacrilegious offence against Nagaism on your conscious?"
"I won't tell anyone if you don't tell anyone," Lucina said.
Another dozen steps later, they ascended above eyelevel with Naga's golden statue and reached a trapdoor towards the tower's roof. A violent shove dealt with the obstacle and allowed them access to a view banned to all but the most dedicated followers of Naga, those who succeeded in all the five credos.
In the far western horizon, sunbeams broke through the storm clouds and sprinkled a pinch of orange over the wheat heads around Eltrys. This time, the rebels had taken the city without the use of fire or largescale destruction through dragon or wyvern claws, and Eltrys rewarded their efforts with its beautiful scenery, a golden moment so rarely seen during war times. The chatter from the plaza faded to the indistinct murmur of a river, and the faintest breeze twiddled the ends of Ike's headband.
"Didn't take you for someone who breaks the rules of Nagaism," Ike said. Although the view invited them to stare and admire, he kept his eyes focused on Lucina.
"I figured you wouldn't mind since you don't concern yourself with faith," she said and rested her arms on one of the waist-heigh merlons which fenced the roof.
"That obvious?" Ike heaved himself onto the merlon next to her. When he sat down, his cloak shifted and allowed a glimpse at his sword. Fresh blood stained the steel. "If I'm not careful, you're gonna convert me. Today, I let a Pheraen bastard loose, and next I'll preach about harmony with your surroundings and spreading the word."
Lucina tensed. Could it be… "You spared a Pheraen soldier who surrendered?"
"Yeah, and it's gonna cost us if he reaches the capital."
Lucina smiled. "I'm glad."
"Let's see if you still feel that way when we're in the stranglehold of Roy's army." Ike leaned back and traded his sarcastic tone for a genuine one. "Why do you care so much about what happens to some Pheraen who would kill you if he gets the chance? You have killed before, haven't you?"
"I don't think I have. There were one or two soldiers in Aurelis… I'm not sure if they survived. I can only hope."
"Despite all the years you worked as Roy's knight, he never asked you to kill someone? Hard to believe."
Images from her days in Lycia drifted along with the breeze. The place she used to call home. Hardship, death, and even the rebellion had been vague concepts in her mind, issues that failed to climb the palace walls. The white-freckled barks of the garden's orange trees felt more real than the executions Lucina had witnessed from the balcony above the yard.
Roy had looked at her not with the glacier eyes of the tyrant but with warmth. In the red sandstone halls where he had walked beside her, worries about killing had no place.
"I watched people die," Lucina said. "From afar. But Roy never forced me to attend the executions or even become the executioner myself." She looked at Ike. The rebel with the headband, the man she had hoped to meet, the resolute expression in which she found a bottomless ocean of fascination. "You would have been the first one."
Ike leaned back, dangerously close to the edge. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"In Gran. I was the archer who almost shot you."
He scowled, and his right hand shot towards the sword hilt behind his shoulder. Disbelief, realization, and a hint of betrayal battled on his face for supremacy. If he drew his sword or tripped Lucina over the merlon, she wouldn't stop him.
But Ike did neither. While he continued to clench his jaw, the rest of his body relaxed, and he pulled back his hand.
"Why're you telling me this?" he asked.
"Because it is true. And I want you to trust me."
Ike pondered for a bit. His eyes searched the horizon beyond the lands of Pherae, where the peaks of the northern Caernion Mountains stood out against the expanding midnight blue, a row of white-headed giants tired from work under the wheel. On other days, perhaps they would have smelled a hint of the massive spruce forests which hugged the crags. But the air bore nothing beyond impending rain.
"I haven't woken up with your sword in my chest yet," Ike said. "So I guess I can give you a shot. It's not like I have much of a choice. You're the best bet against Roy the rebellion ever had."
Everyone else kept telling Lucina the same, but the words no longer sounded like a compliment. Until she found a reason to fight, her own dream that kept her warm in the dark, she would only function as the link between the rebels and their idols. Some saw her as Naga's champion, others as the resurrection of Marth's glorious lineage. Ike, however, had little love to spare for either.
And still he stood in the rebellion's first line.
"Why do you hate him so much?" Lucina asked with a careful glance at Ike. "The king, I mean. If you don't support Nagaism, you have no reason to care about what happens to the believers. But you've done more than any other Altean."
"I'm not from Altea."
Lucina struggled to form a response. "But I thought…"
"I was born in Tellius."
Tellius – of course. Lucina mocked herself for being so blind. That explained why he despised everything surrounding Naga.
"I suppose you've heard the story inside the cozy walls of the capital," Ike said. Bitterness tainted his words. "Tellius, the misguided land ruled by the acolytes of Dualism, this pathetic nation that received its just punishment for its fallacy. Didn't they teach you that it was only because of Dualism that the Black Knight emerged to destroy the realm?"
"That's what the history books say…"
"So naturally, this must mean that all people of Tellius are irredeemable sinners, right?" Ike picked a piece of gravel from the merlon and tossed it over the edge. "So why not build a wall between Pherae and these misguided people? Let's lock them in with the Black Knight. That'll teach them."
"Eliwood only ordered the construction of the Black Wall to keep his own people safe." Lucina paused. "Roy used to tell me that. Before I left."
"Doesn't matter why he built the thing. My has home suffered under the scourge of the Black Knight since I was four. But instead of a helping hand, Pherae offered everyone who came too close to the border a volley of arrows. I've seen people try to cross. And I've seen them die trying."
Lucina wrapped her cape tighter around her shoulders. Even without wind, a terrifying cold bit into her skin.
Klein had shot down refugees from Tellius for fun. Galle and his wyvern had torn through anyone who had managed to bypass the Black Wall with the revered brutal efficiency of Roy's army. How many of these refugees had Ike known? How many had been his neighbors, his friends, his family?
The Black Wall had separated Pherae and Tellius for nineteen years, and not a month had gone by without a report to the palace about another attempted crossing. A number to count the dead and a short note on whether they had carried weapons. Most of them hadn't.
"What happened?" Lucina asked. Her voice trembled. "What happened to you?"
Ike's empty gaze rested on the outlines of the far away mountain range, almost invisible in the darkness after sundown. He seemed to wander through the endless spruce forests of his home, where moss cushioned each step, and the tangy, clean scent of bark after a night of drizzle tingled the nose.
Back then, the conifers had bathed in the sun.
Now, shadows lived between the trunks.
"After the Black Knight killed the king, there was no place in Tellius safe from his grasp," Ike said, more to the distant edges of his homeland than to Lucina. "Including our village. My father remained loyal to the crown until the end. People respected him. He… he would always take an extra loaf of bread with him on his walks and give it to the orphans playing by the watermill. Always. Like some sort of ritual. He could tell apart every tree in the forest, not just by the shape of their leaves, but by the trunks, the crookedness of their branches, by the smell when he crumbled a piece of bark between his fingers."
Lucina swallowed. "He sounds like an extraordinary man."
"But he wasn't. He was a good man, a good knight, but not better than any other lord. There was nothing special or divine about him. To this day I don't understand why the Black Knight wanted to kill him the most. One of the orphans my father used to help betrayed his whereabouts. For power or a pouch full of gold, I don't know. I watched while the Black Knight slaughtered him. I was seven."
Ike fell silent for a moment, trapped in a memory far away. With slow movements, he freed his sword from his back.
"It used to be his," he said and trailed the bloodstains with his forefinger as though noticing them for the first time. "Ragnell. He died for this dumb piece of steel."
"I'm sorry." Lucina reached out to place a hand onto Ragnell's blunt side next to Ike's. "Nothing I say will bring him back, and I can't help you forget either. But I am sorry. I don't remember my own father, and I can only imagine what you went through." Her thumb brushed his trembling hand. "But you're alive. You can still fight for your home. Don't you think your father would be proud to see how far you've come?"
"I'll never know. And thanks to the Black Wall, I don't get the chance to ask any of his old knight colleagues. If any of them still live."
"They can't all be dead."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Those who stayed in Tellius are less than one step away from getting crushed by the Black Knight. And those who try to flee, well… Titania almost died getting me across the wall. Pherae didn't built this thing for show."
"Is this why you fight?" Lucina asked and fixated Ike's gaze with hers. "To tear down the wall and face the Black Knight?"
"Would that be so bad?"
"No. It's admirable. I know you think little of royalties and supposed champions of Naga, and you have no reason to trust my word, but could I still make you a promise?"
Ike's eyes darted across her face, maybe in search for a sign of trickery. He didn't dare to hope. But after a long moment, while the sky darkened and only the oil lamps from the plaza below remained to illuminate his features, he nodded.
"I promise you," Lucina said, "that if we manage to overthrow Roy, I will do everything in my power to open up the border. If necessary, I will ask Tiki to tear a few new holes into the wall. Your people, like the people of Altea and Sacae, will be free to live. No matter what it will cost."
Ike gave her a pained smile. "You'd need more than the Altean crown to make that work. You've never even seen the spruce forests or the lake district or the villages with their simple-minded inhabitants. Why should you care?"
Lucina straightened. She knew what she had to say. And the warmth of certainty almost burned brighter than Ike's fingertips next to her own.
"That is my reason to fight," she said. "If no one else cares, I want to be the one. I want to see you amidst these spruce forests, I want to see Cordelia return to a peaceful Talys, I want to see Frederick with a medal as knight general. If it is within my power, I want to be the one to realize your dreams."
"And what do you want in return?"
With love. Forever.
Lucina smiled. "For starters, you could help me develop a plan to take Lycia and sneak into the palace. I would like to use some of the strategic genius you used to overpower Aurelis. With zero casualties, as I've heard. And… if you could smile for once, I wouldn't mind either."
Ike didn't smile, but the usual grimness left his jaw untouched for the remainder of the evening. Like a swarm of fireflies caught in a tranquil dance, the campfires of their comrades below shone against the dark of the storm. And when they paused for a moment, they could smell a trace of faraway spruce trees.
Notes: Well, I told you Lucina is struggling with her status as Naga's champion. In some less than pleasant ways, I should add. And, perhaps more excitingly, this chapter also gave you the first real look at the story behind Ike's motivation. It certainly explains why he won't shut up about Tellius whenever I write from his POV.
Because I have nothing else to say, let me thank you for your continued patience and loyalty to this story, whether as frequent commenter or silent reader. Since you are reading this, it means you have stuck with my ambitious ramblings for over 100k words now, and I'm very grateful for that. See you soon!
