Winter's End
The Binding Blade clattered on the tiled floor. Nothing else remained of Roy but a pillar of fire, until that too faded, taken by the spring wind flooding through the windows. Sêl, the fire spirit, disappeared. This time, she would not reemerge.
Lucina trembled. She turned to look at Ike. He was unsteady on his feet too. They stumbled towards one another, and somehow, they managed to keep one another upright, clinging to scorched sleeves and shaky shoulders.
Lucina had never been more thankful for the labored breath of another person.
"You did it," Ike said after a long moment.
Lucina swallowed a sob.
"You actually did it." He gazed at Falchion.
"I had to. Right? You… you would have paid for my mercy otherwise. My hesitance. Just like Tiki. I couldn't stand aside and watch, watch while you…" Lucina clutched Ike's tunic, desperate to feel the uneven but lively rise and fall of his chest.
"We'll be okay," he said. "We'll be okay."
Lucina wanted to believe in these few words. She wanted to hold them close and whisper them as her credo, and maybe if she lit a candle in the dead of night and prayed to these few words, they would become true.
"It was the only way, right?" Lucina asked. "You knew it all along. I couldn't keep him and a free Altea. Not both. I had to sacrifice one."
Ike stiffened. His eyes darted towards the door. "And Naga told you which one."
Lucina shook her head. "It's… what I wanted. My choice."
For a while, they only stood there in the middle of the abandoned throne room and allowed their heartbeats to normalize. But the noise of battle wafting through the balcony windows persisted, the rattle of Lucina's war. A hauntingly fitting name. Not because she fought it – but because she had inspired it.
With more difficulty than she liked to admit, Lucina stepped away from Ike. She walked towards Tiki's body where she had dropped the ashen winged crown. Her chest cramped, but she forced herself to lift the crown from the floor. New specks of blood stained the gold. The symbol of hers and Roy's reign.
It was as Roy had said: all this would soon come to an end, one way or another.
Together with Ike, Lucina walked through the vast empty halls with their vaulted sandstone ceilings, down the wide stairways where she had played queen, and towards the courtyard where her war seethed. The stench of fire never left her nose, but when she passed the entrance archway and stepped into the sun, a different scent hung in the air, a scent more powerful than the odor of blood and steel and sweat that drenched the yard.
The scent of spring.
Dozens, maybe hundreds of soldiers fought in the yard and on the battlements above, and the majority of them carried the Pheraen eagle in some form. Brothers slew brothers, neighbors battled neighbors, and countless people lay like broken chess pieces on the cobble, all for the sake of her feud with Roy – all in the name of Lucina's war.
As she had done nine months ago, Lucina yelled at the fighters. Her voice still possessed its persuasive power, invited the people to listen and obey, and the combatants nearest to her paused midmotion. From them, the call traveled through the crowd. Fighters lowered their swords, they tiptoed and craned their necks to see the origin of the voice. This time, their search of the throne room balcony came up empty.
Lucina stood among them on the cobblestone, with snow mud on her boots and blood on her face. Falchion rested in its scabbard at her side, and the crown that had graced her head the months before hung from her right hand.
The soldiers met her on eyelevel. And once the news of this strange sight had reached the farthest corners of the battlefield, silence enveloped the yard and the palace and maybe the world as a whole.
One last time, all eyes lay on Lucina.
A look at Ike gave her the strength to begin.
"People of Pherae," she shouted, and her voice rose above the palace walls to resound even in the most distant fighters. "I am standing before you to correct two mistakes. Those weren't the mistakes of a queen or Naga's champion but the mistakes of an Altean girl who thought she could succeed where her predecessors failed, who believed she could win without needing to fight. I am this Altean girl."
Lucina gestured at Falchion. "My first mistake was to carry this sword without using it. Roy did not return from the dead as the rumors suggest. Although I had the sword, I lacked the strength to truly end his reign. I see those who wear his crest. For him, you have marched to the capital. For him, you raised your weapons against your brothers. And for him, the men and women on the ground next to you have died. I had the chance to prevent this. But although I had the sword, I did not. This mistake is now corrected."
Her eyes burned when the final expression on Roy's face came back to her. How the light had faded from his eyes when she had drawn Falchion back for the slash to end his suffering. How one hand had reached out to Sêl.
Lucina took a deep breath and continued. "My second and far worse mistake was to wear this crown without deserving it. Roy conquered Altea and enslaved the people there under his crest. But when an Altean girl rode here nine months ago, she followed his teaching, conquered Pherae, and enslaved you, the people of this land, under her crest. It was this mistake that allowed Roy to rise again. He promised you a return to Pherae's golden days as I once promised the people of Altea a return to their golden days. But when you look around you, does it seem like either of us have delivered on their promise?"
No one from the crowd answered. They all hung on Lucina's lips, and the longer they listened, the smaller the fire of their bloodlust became, it dwindled until the spring breeze snuffed out the last embers.
"This second mistake still needs correction. And as my final decree, I will mend what an Altean girl set wrong. People of Pherae! Roy's war has ended with his death. My war ends here. I am returning this crown and this land back to you."
Lucina kneeled down. The jingle of windchimes had retreated into the far distance. While the eyes of Pherae rested on her, she placed the ashen winged crown on the cobblestone. She bowed her head. And when she raised her chin and stepped away, for the first time it were the people of Pherae in whose eyes shimmered awe.
"You have a strange sense of humor, Lucina," Rath said.
The new tunic in Pheraen red created a stark contrast to his hair, but the high collar charmed his face in a way that made him look more like his father than ever. The gold brooch with Marcus' crest that held his cape in place completed the picture of unwilling nobility.
Lucina gestured at the marble stand between them. "I think we have long since passed the point where I can write this off as a joke."
Warm light filtered through the stained-glass windows of the antechamber to paint colorful patterns onto the marble. The effect gave the crown resting in its cushioned bed on top of the stand an almost ethereal air; it certainly added to its perceived weight. Fresh from the forge, the simple circlet of gold did away with the ornate carvings of its predecessor worn by Roy and Lucina. It didn't reflect a tyrannical empire but a proud kingdom instead. The ashen winged crown, meanwhile, rusted away in Lycia's treasury alongside the Binding Blade and other relics of the past.
"You may show me a pretty chain, but it remains a chain nonetheless," Rath said with a glare at the crown.
Lucina shook her head. "It is only a chain to those it doesn't fit. You may be Rath of the Lorca, but you are also Rath of Satar. And by extension, Rath of Pherae."
"The people will object this decision."
"I doubt they will. Sacae has been tied to the Pheraen kingdom for centuries."
"Known as the wild grassland where ill-behaved Pheraen children go missing in the dark of night."
A smile tugged at Lucina's lips. "I believe the time is ripe to change the stories. Marcus enjoyed great popularity among the people of Pherae and the soldiers from all across the land in particular. With his name attached to yours, don't you think you can change both lands for the better?"
"Is that another lesson in Altean diplomacy?"
"Not quite. In these halls, I think what we will need is Sacaen diplomacy. Navarre was right in one regard: I failed to lead the Lorca to freedom, all I did was trade one tyrant for another. But you can still succeed."
Rath tugged at the hem of his expensive silk cape and frowned. "Did I not once tell you I am heir to no one? Yet here you stand to make me heir of everything."
"You can reject, of course. Marcus may not have other children, but there are many small Pheraen lords who would stab their neighbor to stand in your place. You see the problem? It's the fact that you don't desire the crown that makes you such a fitting wearer. But I don't want to force you. The choice is yours."
"You created a civil war with your choice. A man from the grasslands is not meant to lead eagles. They are only waiting to tear their claws into me."
"The people on the streets beg to differ. I have heard from both sides of the fight that you went out of your way to save the civilians after one of Roy's commanders set fire to the houses outside the palace." Lucina counted the events of the last battle on her hand. "You won the fight, you prevented pillaging, secured the docks before the invaders could blow the whole harbor to pieces, and even rescued a city quarter worth of people. They are calling you the hero of Lycia."
"You are the one who ended the tyrant."
"I ended one of them. The other one is still awaiting her banishment."
A part of Lucina looked forward to her journey south, towards the land of her father. Altea's rolling hillsides would teem with spring flowers when she arrived. Maybe then she would escape Roy's ghost. But one last issue still held her in Lycia: the issue of her successor. A man of Pherae had yet to set right what a girl of Altea set wrong.
"In Sacae, banishment means a fate worse than death," Rath said. "Few outcasts survive in the deep grassland for long. Thirst devours the most of them. I wish this fate to no one, least you. You have loaded no shame onto your shoulders. The eagles should applaud you instead."
Lucina followed the crisscrossing lines of the stained-glass windows and their familiar sandstone frames. The stone itself radiated little warmth. And yet she could not deny that she found something comforting in the rough, red-burned bricks.
"I'm not walking into the desert to die," she said. "I still have too much to do; I'm owing a lot of people fulfilled promises. Lycia and this palace might have been my childhood home… but I doubt I will have many reasons to miss it."
"But to never set foot on Pheraen ground again…"
"I believe it's for the best. The people of Pherae should turn their eyes to their new king."
Rath nodded and studied the crown in its cushioned bed. A small golden circle with such a large responsibility tied to it, a tempting item to steal for countless people, rich and poor, except for those who had worn the circle on their head before.
"The tale of Lyn spoke of a time of comradery and rich harvest for the Lorca," Rath said. "A time where people of Pherae, Ostia, and Sacae lived and hunted side by side. Perhaps enough seasons have passed to let this time return." He reached out for the crown but hesitated before his fingers brushed the gold.
Lucina smiled. "For what it's worth, you have my blessing."
With a careful serenity, far more careful than his sturdy hands suggested, Rath followed the miniscule grooves where the blacksmith had folded the crown's steel and enwrapped it with gold.
"A strange sense of humor indeed," Rath said. "If not yours then it was the universe's that has dragged me here. But I will do what I can. As heir to no one – and perhaps as heir to Marcus as well."
"I'm looking forward to what you will build out of his legacy."
"Then I can count on a friend in Altea when I look south?"
"Always. I may not be able to return the favor, but you could find an arbitrary political reason to visit Altea every now and then."
He laughed, and with the ease so unique to him, Rath cast off the cape of unwilling nobility to once again stand before Lucina as a Lorca first and foremost. Yes, perhaps Pherae had always needed a man like him.
"I will give it my all to find these arbitrary reasons," he said. "And with time and a few bent eagle rules, I will find ways to welcome you back in Pherae. I heard talk from small lords that a marriage proposal will soften vengeful minds."
"Maybe not."
Another laugh. "I see the heir to Marth has her eyes on other men. Then you spare me the trouble of learning the ways of royal courtship. A welcome news – I will have enough to learn in the months that follow." With an almost wistful expression, Rath twirled the thread with his collected metal plates. In an unexpected way, the accessory complimented his Pheraen attire. "A hunch tells me I will not see many opportunities for a fistfight at the campfire in those months."
"Some of the Pheraen lords you are going to deal with might benefit from a punch or two to the face." Lucina straightened. "Shall we then move to our positions?"
Rath stepped away from the crown and raised his chin. "I trust your judgement. And if you are willing to ride on this path as my ally, I will do what I can to earn this crown."
"So it will happen."
A mere hour later, Rath marched down the throne room in his Pheraen cape under the eyes of lords, Lorca, and loyal attendants. Uther and his delegation of Ostia observed the happenings with an occasional satisfied nod, and people of lesser and greater rank from all across Pherae and its principalities followed their example. They had gathered between the pillars and in the last corners of the balcony to witness this historic moment, unified in the land they shared as home.
Rath knelt before the throne rostrum and said his vows. The brooch with Marcus' crest shimmered proudly. Accompanied by the cheers from the crowd, Lucina placed the crown on Rath's head and presented him to the world by his new title: Rath, first of his name, hero of Lycia, and king of Pherae.
The façade of the Glass Fortress gleamed to create the illusion of a giant, broken diamond. The sunrays seeped into countless glass shards embedded into the stone, swirled within their depths, before shining out with a new kind of beauty, often rainbow-like in their interplay. But the marvelous sight failed to hide the ruin behind the glass.
For almost nineteen years, the halls of the Glass Fortress had stood empty, inhabited only by the wind whenever it entered through the holes catapults had ripped into the walls. A monument for the kingdom of Altea.
Only now did the sound of repair work echo across the inner yard.
Lucina walked among the workers, men and women who carried support beams to and fro, swarms of masons gathered to close wounds that had gaped in the stone for years, and knights on their quest to clear the yard of shards. Where appropriate, she offered a helping hand. The golden circlet almost disappeared behind her hair.
The noise of bustling activity mixed with the distant scent of spring flowers conjured a small smile onto Lucina's lips.
She spotted Frederick amidst the crowd and approached him. "Is it looking more like your memories?" she asked.
Frederick nodded. "The foundation stones have survived, and the rest is a matter of detailing and decorations. Although I cannot help but feel like the archways have become smaller since the war."
"You've just become taller since then, old man."
The glass shards captured Lucina's gaze once more. She followed the play of light with her eyes towards the half-broken top of the great keep where a lonely Altean flag danced in the wind. Had her father once stood in this exact spot to marvel at the beauty of his home?
Frederick interrupted her restless thoughts. "I always wanted to see you here. In a rebuild Altea, I mean. I understand why you wore the Pheraen crown, but even then, I felt as though you rather belonged here. These people around us are proud to call themselves Alteans because you have won their freedom."
"You won their freedom," Lucina said. "You're the one who defeated Shanna's army at Terra – and despite terrible odds, I should add. Without your intervention, she might have continued invading the coast as vengeance for what happened to Roy. Loyalty or death… you prevented her from enforcing her decision onto Altea."
"I only did so on your orders."
"Come on, you deserve more credit than that." Lucina swallowed. "I really don't know what I would do without you. If you had died because of my foolishness too…"
"You are in no way to blame for Tiki's death."
Of course Frederick had guessed the reason for her unease. Lucina bit her lip. They had laid Tiki to rest in the catacombs underneath the Glass Fortress, next to Marth's empty coffin. A hollow gesture that could in no way repay what Lucina owed Tiki. Frederick might think otherwise, but the blood of Naga's Voice stained Lucina's hands. Her blood and that of countless other people she had directed across her chessboard. Until this bloodstained trail had ended in Roy and his glacier eyes as the life faded from them.
"If I'm not to blame, who is?" Lucina asked.
"You didn't land the killing blow," Frederick said. "But that is beside the point. Tiki stood with the one she believed in the most, and even if it meant facing an overwhelming enemy, she did not waver. No knight has ever done more. In all honesty, I have never had more reasons to admire her."
"Please don't tell me you take this as your inspiration."
"You know I would still die for you. That has not changed. But I will not deny that I am also glad to live for you." Frederick's smile evoked the warmth of sunlit afternoons, where they had been little more than kids, wishing to be knights. He, the older brother, afraid to wade deep into the moat but determined to dive after Lucina all the same. "It allows me to see you here, ready to inherit your father's throne."
"I'm afraid we have to rebuild this throne first."
"I could threaten your army of glassblowers with execution if that helps," someone said.
Lucina and Frederick turned to the owner of the voice. Ike marched through the workers, once again equipped with his worn traveler cloak, and Ragnell's hilt flashed behind his shoulders. All aftereffects of fever had vanished from his face, a look to suggest he would take on an army without hesitance. Lucina could not deny the smile that tugged at her lips.
"Ike, what are you doing here?" she asked.
"Following through a bad habit of mine," Ike said before he addressed Frederick. "Good to see you alive."
Frederick nodded. "Likewise."
"Then I guess you beat Shanna so badly she won't think about getting her greedy hands on a Pegasus anytime soon."
"She is currently being detained in Terra. Her trial should begin soon, although it would not surprise me if she favored a death sentence over a prolonged period in prison."
"Meaning you could have saved those poor judges a whole lot of paperwork if you had just finished her off in the confusion of battle. But orders are orders, right?" Ike glanced at Lucina. As soon as their eyes met, he looked the other direction, as though he suddenly found the most fascinating gemstone in the pile of rubble to his left. "Either way, you did Cordelia a solace. Not sure what her undying gratitude is worth at this point, but you can have it."
Lucina fought down a lump in her throat. "How is she?"
"I dropped her off at Terra," Ike said with a scowl. "Maybe she'll take a ship to Talys. Or maybe she'll find the same corner in the harbor where I met her to rot away. It's none of my business."
"You don't really mean that," Lucina said. The torment in Ike's eyes revealed the truth, even if he refused to see it.
Ike said nothing, but the pile of rubble couldn't hold his interest any longer. With unnerving intensity, he glared at the wound on Lucina's forehead that had yet to heal. She knew this look from Frederick; he wore it whenever he worried she might disappear or the next mild breeze might shift her hair to reveal an incurable wound on her neck. Thanks to Cordelia, Roy had come all too close to striking that wound. And Ike had carried this thought from Lycia all the way here.
Lucina held Ike's gaze.
No one spoke a word.
Until Frederick cleared his throat. "I believe the masons in the great hall are having a dispute about how to continue their work. The window frame will need absolute precision to recreate. I had best intervene before their dispute ends in further ruins."
A little reluctantly, Lucina tore her eyes from Ike. "Yes, Frederick, thank you."
His eyes flipped between Lucina and Ike for a moment longer than necessary before he sighed and trudged through the half-repaired archway leading inside the castle.
"Should we go for a walk?" Lucina asked with a glance at Ike.
"Sure."
Together, they escaped the busy rattling and hammering of the yard and followed a colonnade ridden with debris and glass shards. Where the archways still stood in one piece, they allowed for a view on the neighboring river as it sloshed against the Glass Fortress' foundations. Sections had broken off from the ground here and there to tempt an unsuspecting visitor with a long fall into the waves below.
It would take months if not years to rebuild all this.
"You have avoided my question," Lucina said and kicked a pebble over the edge.
"About what I'm doing here?" Ike rolled his shoulders, maybe to remind himself of Ragnell's weight. "I'm off to Tellius. Maybe I pick up some mercenary missions while I'm on it. Your glass ruin happened to be along the way."
"If you were going by horse or foot from Terra, it means you had to pass Seliora to travel further north. A trip to the Glass Fortress creates a detour of three days or more. Why are you really here?"
"I wish you would cut down on your tireless perceptiveness for one second." Ike echoed Lucina and kicked a pebble through a hole in the colonnade's low rail. "To be honest, it's near impossible for a mercenary to get a job in times of peace. And you don't see too many lords on the lookout for an executioner either."
"Ike…"
"Can't even brag about defeating the former Pheraen king himself in a duel; that at least would make for a nice story in a job interview with the next best lord who wants to hire a bodyguard. Although those guys are usually out for a whole team. Which I don't have. Nephenee's dead, Soren is gone, and Cordelia… well, you know."
"Ike, I don't want you to think of yourself as an executioner. When I named you my general, that wasn't for show."
"And what a shining career that was. I slept through half of it. So don't ask me why I want to go back to being a mercenary. It's the next best thing for those with rebellious thoughts."
"What about Tellius and the Black Knight?"
"What about it? Me by myself against that abomination – I can guess how well that's going to go. I got thrashed by Roy twice, and that guy was human in at least one sense of the word. The Black Knight isn't."
Lucina looked sideways, drawn by the glistening crests of the river. Roy's name passed Ike's lips so easily… she had yet to figure out whether his death made thoughts on him weigh more or less. Maybe she never would.
Phantom flames bit into her left arm, their heat overwhelming. Lucina gave into the weakness of her legs and sat down on the rail. The rough granite under her did not quite match Lycia's sandstone, but she could trick herself. If Ike killed the Black Knight, would his memories of Tellius weigh more or less?
His face gave no concrete answer as he sat down next to her. Their knees touched.
"You have dust on your face," Ike said. "It's been driving me insane the entire time. Right here."
He reached out, a little hesitantly, and stroked the skin above her eyebrow. Lucina sunk into the softness in his eyes, a sight so rarely seen in these blue depths, richer and angrier even than the river below. Her breath stumbled.
"You were queen of the world less than a month ago," Ike said. "You should at least try to look the part. Otherwise I might have to question what I believe in."
Lucina struggled to regain control over her tongue. "You've never believed in anything."
Ike withdrew, but she still felt the heat of his legs next to hers, the warmth of his breath. "Not in gods, no. Not in all the talk about Naga's champion either. But in you… I was guilty of that. Why do you think I made the detour to these ruins? When it comes down to it, I'm the same as all these praying morons who keep circling back to their shrine like it's their damned gravitational center."
"After everything you endured for me. After everything I made you do…"
"All the more. It's infuriating. But it's so damn intoxicating too."
Ike locked eyes with Lucina, and for a long moment they listened to roars of the water and the distant clangs of hammers.
"Is this how it feels when you hear Naga's voice?" Ike asked then. He sounded hoarse.
"She hasn't reached out to me in a long time," Lucina said. "And since Tiki's death, I feel like she has distanced herself even further. I could have spread her word across every corner of the Pheraen Empire. After his… his death, nothing stood between me and an Archanea united under one faith. Instead, I ran away and left the throne of Pherae to someone whose faith only rests on the accuracy of his bow. I doubt she is fond of my decision."
"But it was yours. Your reason not to fight, you could say." Ike made a move to abandon the rail. "Maybe I should try running away too. Before this whole faith business starts getting to my head."
Lucina took a hold of his hand. His eyes widened, and for a heartbeat he looked like a trapped animal, watching the spruce forests of its home move forever out of reach.
"Stay," she said.
"Why?" Ike mustered. "You won't need an executioner anymore. The people of Altea are head over heels for you already. And this place doesn't even have lords to scare back in line, so..."
"You are not an executioner, Ike. I forced you into that role because I was dumb and blind. But this isn't who you are."
"What, you're gonna make me your general instead? Frederick will be thrilled."
Lucina couldn't help but smile. Gods, he made it so easy. Even when she needed to tell him something important. "As tempting as this idea sounds," she said, "it's not a general I need. I need a voice to fill the emptiness of these ruins and a hand to stop me from running down the path of tyranny a second time. I need you as my friend, Ike."
He searched her eyes, maybe for a sign of deception. But he would find none.
"This is exactly what I mean," Ike said. "Your sweet talk is more intoxicating than any liquor. You really are something else."
Then he smiled. And on the backdrop of ruins, Lucina could have wished for nothing more precious.
"Is that a yes?" she asked.
"That's a 'I'm surrendering to my fate'. I never tried rebuilding a kingdom. Could be fun."
Lucina rose from the rail and offered him a hand. "Should we get to work then?"
Ike took the offer, still with that smile on his lips. "Lead the way."
Notes: That's a good place to end Book II, don't you think? For the moment, most threads are tied, even if ambiguously in some cases. I'm saving the rest for Book III. Yep, I'm still not done with this AU. The first draft of Book III is written, but it will need a lot more editing to acquire a presentable form. So, if you want to continue even further, expect a longer break before the next chapter in this story. But I can give you Book III's working title: Within the Whirl of Gods. Make of that what you want.
For the moment, I would be far more interested in your opinion on Book II. Did you enjoy it more than Book I? What was your favorite and least favorite scene? Which character surprised or frustrated you? Leave me a comment if you are feeling generous. It does help with my motivation to continue. And even if I can't reply to guest comments, I do read and appreciate them. Either way, my thanks go out to those who read until this point. Although I have struggled with the editing process, I also had a blast working on this project so far, and seeing my prose improve always makes me happy. I hope you enjoyed the journey as I did. I will return! (And hopefully soon.) Until then, have an amazing day and stay safe.
