Golden Days
Above the sandstone walls of Lycia, amidst a sky filled with puffy clouds so volatile they might disappear the next moment, billowed the flags of Pherae and Altea. Side by side, the eagle and the two keys overlooked the happenings in the city, the bustling of trade, and the joy of everyday life. At a first glance, nothing hinted at the battle that had waged amidst these walls the day before.
Lucina tried to harmonize the atmosphere with her inner thoughts. But on the trampled ground where she stood outside the city, she would not succeed.
In the air lay the scent of dug-up earth and of wood that had not yet dried from yesterday's rainfall. The logs staked before her into seventy-three rostrums might not even catch fire. And for a reason she couldn't discern, this possibility upset her more than the cause that had brought her here in her ceremonial armor.
She had imagined a funeral ought to attract a crowd of old women in black, maybe a few military officials who lowered their helmets in honor, but in all cases the omnipresent sound of sobbing and wailing, anything to tell that the loss grieved the survivors. None of that applied here.
Few figures huddled around the forty-nine graves dug into the muddy ground for the fallen who had believed in Naga. The majority of them had not belonged to Lucina's rebels but had been members of the true faith first and Pheraens second. On a handful of the bumps Cordelia had placed a bouquet of Pegasus feathers. But a few of the dead had ridden with Lucina as proud Alteans. The same people Marth had entrusted her to protect in his stead.
She couldn't look at the small hills for long.
The seventy-three rostrums for those not concerned with Nagaism had drawn a similarly small crowd. A handful Pheraen civilians huddled on the far end of the line of pyres and glared at Lucina and those who had invaded their town and killed their friends, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters.
Separate from them waited the Lorca, spearheaded by Rath. Their rows had thinned.
Lastly, a few paces behind Lucina stood her most loyal subjects. Yes, subjects. If her blood or her affiliation with Naga hadn't detached her from her fellow rebels before, the crown on her head ensured just that.
Soren, leaning sideways to avoid straining his injured leg, regarded the graves with an air of indifference. But the hand clutched around his belt betrayed the physical and emotional pain swirling underneath his calm features. The wind, that had always been his companion, did not stir his robes today.
Frederick, who had cured his sprained ankle through nothing but iron force of will, towered above both Soren and Tiki. The latter bopped on her heels and absorbed the funeral with childlike curiosity.
Other faces met Lucina's in passing, some scarred, some hopeful, some disturbed. But none of them regarded her with the same awe as before. And no one cried.
At the end of the line, Lucina's eyes found Ike. He had every reason to be elated, after all, the Empire against which he had fought for so long had seen its last day. But he still denied Lucina a true smile.
Without making eye contact, he handed Lucina a torch. Her hand quivered when their fingers touched for the briefest of moments.
The moment passed, and she stepped back to approach the pyre nearest to her. On the logs, his eyes closed, lay Wolt. He had believed in Naga, but his relatives, of which only an age-struck, grieving mother remained, had insisted to send him off according to Pheraen tradition. In death Wolt looked even more like the kind knight who used to treat Lucina with candy. He had smiled back then while he put a finger to his lips as if they took part in a great conspiracy only known to them.
Lucina had no tears for him. And she hated herself for her indifference, for this awful numbness that plastered her insides. After all, he was but one of many chess pieces she had kicked from the board in order to triumph over Roy and fulfill her duty.
All potential words of honor, gratitude, or remembrance died in her throat, and so Lucina lowered the torch to the straw sticking out of the pyre in silence. The flames crackled and greedily enveloped everything in its path, and soon the whole constructs stood alight to conceal the body within the fire.
Lucina marched to the neighboring wooden rostrum where they had laid out Galle and repeated the procedure. This way she walked down the seventy-three pyres. Sometimes a familiar face stuck out to her, sometimes the dead sparked recognition, and yet she could not for the life of her connect a name to the person. But all of them burned the same way, and not for one did she have a tear to spare.
She could not tell how much time had passed before she tossed the torch into the last construct. The fire flickered as if it wanted to mirror Lucina's tiredness.
But her feet pulled her farther, to the small hills, and this time she forced herself to look. The uncut stones with the names of the dead on them lay there in perfect rows. Cordelia had taken two hours to align them this way. She hadn't even allowed Ike to lend her a hand.
In front of one of the stones, Lucina stopped. She read Gregor's name. Twice. She stared at the carved letters until her vision blurred and she needed to blink. But she forced herself to look. Counted to ten and breathed.
"I'm sorry," she whispered despite the lump in her throat. There was no face to say goodbye to, only a stone. "You were the first one to tell me about my father. Without you I wouldn't stand here. But my hand still trembles. Can you believe it?" Her voice broke. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't let the fear control me. I will remember. I promise."
Lucina held her head high as she turned away from the graves. Sparks flew. Ash irritated her eyes and sore throat, but she bit back the tears. A leader, a queen, needed to show strength, especially in times of uncertainty, because the eyes of the nation rested on them. Always.
Orange hues enveloped the small hills. The fires blazed into the sky and took with it the seventy-three men and women on whose sacrifice Lucina built her reign.
The halls of the palace appeared bigger these days. The sandstone pillars with their ornate carvings seemed to stretch high enough to reach the sky, and Lucina's steps thundered through the vastness.
In theory, she had a page-long list of problems to solve and issues to address. But in practice, she could not find a moment to ponder on any of these questions. Her thoughts chased themselves in endless circles and spun tirelessly like a carousel ride where the music box looped its tune over and over again. Everything distracted her. The throne room was too quiet, the gardens too sunny, and the massive tomes in the library mocked her with the fake promise of normalcy.
Out of breath without knowing why, Lucina hurried out of the Alabaster Hall onto the balcony which overlooked the inner yard.
On the cobblestone that had once seen executions, a mix of Alteans and Pheraens went about their business. Maids balanced baskets with apples and eggs on their hips in preparation for lunch. Lorca dragged horses to and fro under Rath's watchful eye, and Frederick scolded a squire for tripping a lady-in-waiting. In the midst of the commotion, Cordelia took the first tender steps to reacquaint herself with her people. She talked to a trio of surviving Pegasus Knights and did her best to overcome their stiffness as well as her own. When one of them offered her to pet her Pegasus, she stretched out a trembling hand. A tearful smile crept into her face that knew no equal.
Lucina's anxious heartbeat slowed, and she eased her grip on the stone balustrade of the balcony. This scenery in the yard before her was what she had fought for, right? Despite everything, her victory had opened doors where these people had known none before. Despite everything, there was good to be found.
"Congratulations!" Tiki pattered onto the balcony and with a grin seized Lucina's hands. "You did it! You succeeded in the fourth credo!"
The effusive assault caught Lucina unprepared, and Tiki bouncing up and down didn't exactly settle her confusion.
"I did what?" Lucina asked, unable to make sense of Tiki's words.
The Manakete pouted, but Lucina's silly question couldn't damper her spirits for long. "The fourth credo, of course. You fought and defeated Naga's enemies. Not many humans these days can claim such a thing. Even Marth at the end failed…"
Lucina freed herself of Tiki's grip. "It was a matter of circumstances, I'm sure. I was lucky."
"Maybe. Or you simply had more faith in Naga." Tiki looked sideways and a nostalgic smile brightened her youthful features. "Marth was a great man, the greatest man I ever met, and I'm never gonna stop remembering him with awe. But he wasn't perfect. I like to think you learned from his mistakes, and that's why you won."
Lucina pulled the letter out of her tunic. The edges were bent, and the paper had gained a few more crumples since its time in the tombs under the Glass Fortress. One corner was tainted by her blood. But the words from Marth's quill had lost nothing of their enchanting beauty.
With love. Forever.
Marth.
"Do you think he would be proud of me?" Lucina asked.
"No doubt about it," Tiki said. "I don't even need to consult Naga to know this."
Lucina smiled. "Thank you."
Tiki beamed and surprised Lucina by wrapping her tiny arms around her. The warmth of her touch and the sheer love she put into the gesture overwhelmed Lucina. She had starved for such a display of affection for so long…
Tears swam in Lucina's eyes while she stroked Tiki's hair.
Tiki snuggled her head into Lucina's chest. "What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know," Lucina said.
Tiki looked up at her. "Do you want me to ask Naga? She always has a wise word to spare."
Lucina contemplated for a moment before she shook her head. "No. I mean, I would feel honored to talk to her again, but this is something I need to figure out on my own."
The wind picked up and brought with it a cold chill from Tellius. Lucina watched as the crimson and indigo flags raised above the palace's keep bowed and rose on their posts as though they fought to break free.
"I want to rebuild Altea," she said thoughtfully. "Seliora and the Glass Fortress should be restored to their former glory. And I promised Cordelia to free Talys, which might take more than a nice speech to pull off. There are also knights and lords all across the Empire who probably have a thing to say against my queenship."
"Probably. But that's not what I meant." Tiki pulled back and scrutinized Lucina with those emerald eyes so alike Naga's. "What are you going to do about the former king?"
Roy. At present, he resided in the dungeons below the palace, far out of Lucina's sight. But rarely out of her mind.
The blood of hundreds if not thousands stained his palms, and no punishment could ever compensate for this crime. He deserved to die, and most other regimes would have sentenced him to hang or burn at the stake without bothering a court with the matter. Besides, Roy presented the biggest threat to Lucina's reign and the peace she planned to build. A smart ruler would dispose of him. And yet…
"I don't want him to be the first person I killed," Lucina said. "I've managed it this far without ending another life myself. Of course, Gregor, all these people at the funeral, they would still be alive if it wasn't for me. Maybe I'm deceiving myself with the technicalities and the illusion that there is a difference. But if I order Roy's death – that will be my responsibility alone. And that's a guilt I don't want to carry with me."
"After what he did, he still means that much to you?"
"He is one of the cornerstones of my past. I can't change that. I'm only sorry that I couldn't help him become the hero I used to see in him."
"You humans have such wonderful sentimentalities! I never get tired of it." Tiki's smile dipped a little and she tapped her cheek in thought. "If you don't want to kill the former king, will you do me a favor, please? Say yes, will you?"
"What favor?"
Tiki crossed her arms behind her back and twirled on her heel. As usual, she gave the impression of caring little what happened around her, always caught in a dance or a game known to her alone. But when she looked back at Lucina, her expression was bare of playfulness. The child had put on the mantle of Naga's Voice.
"Send him to Johtran," Tiki said.
Lucina shuddered. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"But he deserves it! It is only fair. His father held me captive in these ice walls for years, tortured me with cold and isolation. Why shouldn't he experience the same pain for killing all these believers of the true faith? He murdered Marth! My… my hero." Tiki's lower lip trembled. "Please. Do me this one favor. I can't stand seeing his murderer unpunished and alive while he… isn't."
How could Lucina deny Tiki? After all the times the Manakete had helped to save Lucina's life, after all the deprivations she had endured, she deserved her reward as much as the rebels down in the courtyard did. And to see the expression of gratitude and love on her face again was all Lucina wanted.
"Okay," Lucina said, "I will arrange his transfer to Johtran. Perhaps a little distance from the capital will help him change."
Tiki took Lucina's hands and beamed at her. "Thank you. It means a lot. Oh, and if you ever need a lift from a dragon, I'll be right here. Whatever awaits us next, we will make sure to defend Naga's rightful kingdom."
"Yes. Whatever awaits us…"
The birches glowed in the full green of summer and rustled like velvet ballgowns whenever a breeze from Tellius swept through their crowns. A certain fresh taste came with each lungful of air, a taste of a forest heaving a sigh after a long day of rain, when the last droplets glitter on the leaves of balsam and cranberry bushes.
The atmosphere alone spurred the pair of horses over the root-infested path winding through the trunks.
Lucina smiled and relished the warm winds on her face. The wounds on her forearms prickled a little but not in an uncomfortable manner. Rather, the sensitive skin served to remind her that this peaceful forest was no mere illusion, and the victory she had achieved in Lycia rendered this very forest a part of her Empire.
An empire where no Altean or Pheraen had to fear for their life anymore.
The horses broke through the tree line and followed the road on its way to a village. The village of Thria. Chimney smoke curled into the sky and the waddle-and-daub houses baked in the sun; an image the likes of which a traveler could find all across the land. And if not for the towering structure at the horizon to their right, Lucina would have failed to tell if she still treaded Pheraen grounds or had unknowingly crossed the border to Altea.
The Black Wall disfigured the view to the northwest in all its ugly glory. Even in the light of the summer sun, the structure had nothing charming to it. No wonder Klein had despised the symbol of Eliwood's megalomaniacal wish to cut off his world from the larger one out there.
A chill ran down her neck as Lucina studied the Black Wall. Not only because of the barricade but because of what the black stones obscured from her view, what hid in the deep forests beyond the border.
But the village in front lay in the sun, the adjourning river gurgled happily, and on a day like this Lucina had no reason to dwell on gloomy thoughts. Today was a golden summer day.
The first of many.
Thria presented itself in a most merry way with an atmosphere akin to the eve of a festivity. Merchants blocked the streets with carts loaded to the brim with rice, fish, and strawberries. They struck bargains in all kinds of accents but always with the loud enthusiasm of businessmen at work. A group of children ran up to the two newcomers and gawked at their valuable swords.
But the warmest welcome awaited Lucina through the half dozen refugees from Tellius. Their mantles and knapsacks betrayed the strain of their journey, but the people's faces shone. A mother with a baby in her arms wept. She and her companions almost stumbled over one another in their haste to thank Lucina, and she accepted their invitation to share bread and wine with a bow.
While the refugees were shaking her hand, she stole a glance at her partner.
Ike stared at the group like people stare at a wonderful fata morgana which they know will disintegrate but which they want to keep in reality at all costs. With visible effort, he dismounted. One of the refugees, an ex-soldier wearing a headband similar to Ike's, took notice, and they exchanged a few words. When the ex-soldier recognized him as his fellow countryman, he embraced Ike.
Lucina would have loved to see his expression, but the other refugees were begging for her attention, and their flood of words of gratitude knew no end. Only thanks to her could the people of Tellius hope for a future, they said.
The appreciation and love thrown her way delighted Lucina to no end, and she pined for every new friendly gesture like a drunkard sozzled beyond sense who can't help but order another drink. These people didn't admire her because of Marth's blood or Naga's blessing, or even the crown on her head. No, they admired her because of what she had done for them. And for the briefest of moments, their love was hers alone.
As a result, Lucina needed several attempts to tear herself from the group of refugees as well as the growing crowd of local spectators. But she hadn't come here with the sole intention of a warm shower. So, after many delays, Lucina waved her subjects goodbye and directed her horse along the road towards the village outskirts and the bridge beyond.
Ike rode beside her but still refused to speak. Before the backdrop of the Black Wall, he looked small, almost lost. A little more like the boy he had been when he had fled Tellius, who would clutch his hand around his father's golden sword and glare at the hostile world.
"I thought you would make it harder for me," Lucina said.
Ike started and looked at her for the first time since they had passed through Lycia's gate this morning. "What?"
"I thought you would object against me taking the crown. Maybe even instigate a putsch before I even had time to sit on the throne."
Ike frowned. "It's not like I'm happy about it. And the first moment, with you on that balcony, I thought we had just traded one power-hungry monarch for another."
"What made you change your mind?"
Ike kept silent, and for a while the clacking of hooves replaced their conversation. The river in front of them hurried along, and the sun reflected on its crests a thousand times.
"I told you I trusted you." Ike fiddled with the bridle but his eyes remained on Lucina. "And until that point you had given me no reason to think otherwise. It's thanks to you that we got as far as Lycia. I guess I wanted to believe you made the right choice."
Lucina gave him a lopsided smile. "That's not exactly the encouragement I wanted to hear."
"Okay, then how about this: you made me a promise to open up the border for refugees. And you did that. You saw what it meant to the people back there."
"I noticed. Did you recognize any of them from before you left? Did they know your father?"
Ike shook his head. "I've heard of their village's name, but I never went there. They mostly told me the same stories, about how the Black Knight continues to raze entire settlements. Everything's well in the evening and when the sun rises, every last one of the villagers is dead. That's why these people need Pherae's help. Your help, I should say."
"And I'm happy to provide it." Lucina thought back to the view over Eltrys from atop Naga's tower. "You yourself said that I would need more than Altea's crown to open up the border, and what better way to get the Pheraen guards to hurry than by assuming the mantle of their queen?"
Ike gave her a tired smile. "Fair point."
They reached the bridge, and Lucina dismounted. She reached for the long package strapped to her saddle. With slow, hesitant movements, she loosened the roped bindings and folded back the blanket to throw a final glance at the item inside: the Binding Blade.
Even when clad in dirty linen, far away from its owner, the sword struck Lucina with its beauty. A weapon this mighty should weigh more, but she had no problem holding it in one arm while her free hand followed the immaculate golden lines on the hilt. Her fingers stopped their search when they reached the red stone embedded into the cross guard. It would be a shame to waste such a fine display of craftsmanship.
Ike walked up to Lucina near the bridge's stone railing and forced her wandering thoughts back to reality. "Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?" he asked.
"You know why," Lucina said. The thought of Roy still produced a feeling of uneasiness in her chest.
"Will you then stick to your ideals until it kills you? Wanting to save everyone is a nice idea, but I've seen how it destroys people. I don't want to add you to the list."
Lucina looked at Ike in surprise. Was this genuine concern in his face for her?
"I'll be fine," she said and jabbed her elbow at him. "I have you to keep me in check."
Ike's lips twitched, but his expression darkened before the smile could take root. "I don't get you. Don't you want to prove to your father that you're fit to follow in his footsteps? That you won't fall victim to the same weakness he did?"
He sounded so conflicted, so hurt. His eyes darted to the Black Wall, as if he feared the ominous structure to come closer every time he let it out of his sight for too long.
Lucina freed one hand from the Binding Blade to brush Ike's hand. Although the touch lasted less than a second, he whirled as though electrified and stared at her, eyes wide.
"Marth didn't die because his kindness made him weak," Lucina said. "He died because he wanted to protect me. Until the very end, he was more concerned with saving a life than taking one. I want to honor that choice."
"Still, if you had killed the king, this would have proven your abilities beyond doubt."
"There are other ways to prove yourself than killing."
Ike stared at Lucina for a long time. Maybe he wanted her to be right but struggled to cast off the recollections that told him otherwise, or maybe this simple truth had never crossed his mind before.
Below their vantage point, the river sloshed and gurgled in currents that never streamed downhill in quite the same way twice. Another group of refugees climbed the road towards Thria.
At last, Ike nodded. Whether he believed Lucina or wanted to move on from the topic at hand did not show on his face.
"Should we then finish up business and ride back?" he asked. "You must be getting tired holding onto that sword."
Lucina tightened her grip around the Binding Blade. The red stone's bottomless depths, where fires and shadows swirled in an untiring vortex, refused to release her eye. Almost alive.
"Don't you think it's too valuable to throw away?" she asked. "Roy ruled with this for eighteen years – it might come in handy for us later."
"You don't need it," Ike said.
"But—"
"You don't need it." He wrapped the blanket around the hilt and grabbed hold of the package. "Together, okay?"
Lucina tore her gaze from the Binding Blade and looked up at Ike. Then she nodded. "Together."
And while each of them held the package by one of its ends, they crossed the last step between them and the railing. On a command issued through eye contact, they heaved the load over the edge and tossed the blanket with its content into the river. The Binding Blade vanished from view. And the currents that never streamed downhill in quite the same way twice carried with them the last of its traces.
Lucina stepped back from the railing with a deep breath and smiled at Ike.
"We still have a little time before we should ride back for sundown," she said and tapped Falchion's pommel. "What do you say? Care for a rematch?"
"Don't you have political issues to work on?"
"Oh please, writing and filing declarations is Virion's favorite pastime. I'm sure the palace can handle an afternoon without us."
"All the better. But don't expect to defeat me as easily as last time."
"What, have you been training to impress someone special?" Lucina said with a grin and lead her horse towards a gentle grass-covered hill on the river's far side that made for the perfect arena for their duel.
Ike followed her. "Maybe."
And he returned her smile.
The honest joy so rarely seen on his face made him look younger, at peace with himself and the world, and Lucina swore to preserve this image for the rest of time and hang it up in a gold-embellished frame in the halls of her memory.
Perhaps the sacrifices had been worth it after all.
Ike and Lucina clashed swords until the sun neared the tops of the spruce trees to the west and the first five-story candles illuminated the windows of Thria. Neither of them wasted another look at the Black Wall that day.
Notes: And this shall conclude Book I "Ashes of Altea". Yes, Book I. You may have noticed that a few things surrounding Naga, the Black Knight, and even the mystery of Ninian's death, which kickstarted the war, remained unsaid. You can of course consider this the end. I think this chapter offers a decent conclusion to the Altean rebellion and Lucina's role in it. But if you want more, more is coming. I'm currently in the final chapters of the first draft for Book II, but it will take a while before I want to start posting any of it. I hope to give this at least one round of editing before I hand the whole package to my beta for further changes and improvements. This may not be visible on first glance, but a lot of time was dedicated to polishing the first book, and with the sequel, I want to give you something on par in terms of quality. So unfortunately, I have to ask for a little patience.
I'm not yet sure if I want to make Book II a separate fic or if I should just continue by adding the new chapters to this fic, so that everything stays in one place. Depending on that, I may have to change the completion status here. Maybe you have preferences? Hit me with those in the comments.
My sincerest thanks goes out to everyone who has read this far and especially those who left a comment. Even after having written 500k words of fanfiction, I still get anxious about posting my work. Feedback in any form helps a lot. It's nice not to feel like I'm shouting into the void lol. Now, if you will excuse me, the next part of the story doesn't write itself. In the meantime, comments, kudos, and bookmarks are dearly appreciated, and they might just boost my motivation to get Book II out faster.
Tl;dr I will hopefully see you soon. Stay safe until then.
