Candlelight Glitter

Now:

Ike was missing Ragnell. The greatsword added a pleasant weight to his shoulders, and he found comfort whenever its rattle accompanied his steps. But not even he could invent an excuse to drag the sword to a ball.

The Glass Fortress teemed with visitors. Ballgowns in the most fantastical colors and the most attention-grabbing cuts swirled on the dance floor. And the people stuck inside those gowns, people with and without rank, wore peace-time smiles. A year ago, the tiles on which they turned had hidden under shards and rubble, but tonight the glass decorations cast rainbows onto their faces. Reflections of a dozen golden chandeliers shimmered.

The finished rebuild of Altea's glass-made pride and joy should give Ike enough reasons to celebrate. Who would have thought he would stand among Archanea's silk-laced elite one day, with a cape and a tunic almost as fancy as theirs? If he had cared to ask, he would have even received a knight title to boast with, a golden brooch with the two keys of Altea, and a small patch of land to grow raspberries where he could wallow in his swordfight fantasies.

Knight of Altea. A title to lean back with – free of responsibility.

The last war had entered the history books as quickly as it had exited the heads of the masses. And why should they worry? Relations with the kingdom of Pherae had never poured more trade and shiny promises into Altea's needy hands. King Rath, his Pheraen crown still spotless and new, had even traveled south to attend this ball. People talked of a proposal to the Altean queen and half of Sacae's grassland as a wedding gift. Even after a year this rumor would not die. Probably because it tasted all too deliciously for the Altean crowds when they rolled it on their tongues.

People overstuffed themselves on hopes much like they overstuffed themselves on the tiny cream cakes from the buffet opposite of the dancefloor.

But instead of perfume and rosewater and great aspirations, the smell of spruce needles tingled in Ike's nose. He snatched a gold-rimmed cup from a servant and drowned the taste in wine. To little success.

A handful of girls giggled nearby and besieged Ike with longing looks. Altea had no nobility to speak of, so most of the guests stepped into the splendor of the rebuilt Glass Fortress as merchants or guild masters who could afford to leave business for a week. And of course those merchants and guild masters had brought their eligible daughters for the sole purpose of ruining Ike's evening. The overdressed peacocks pointed at him, but none of them left the safety of the flock to ask him for a dance. They probably thought him a nobleman from a different kingdom and far out of their league.

So much the better. Ike already wished for a headache so he could excuse himself from this gathering of fools and fools' daughters. Chatter all they liked, they would keep their distance as long as Ike kept up the act of the grim, silent exhibit, as much part of the ballroom as the pillars. To his surprise, while he still sipped on his first cup, someone did break the habit.

"Well, if it isn't my second-favorite set of strong arms. I could think it was yesterday. You still have that sour glare on your face."

Ike downed the rest of his wine and turned towards the voice's owner. Cherche, dressed in the finest silk but still with the subtlety of a woodcutter, pushed through the crowd. If she put her mind to it, she owned this dancefloor and half the world on top, the Altean banners be dammed. The complaints about spilled wine and stepped-on toes didn't stop her, and neither did the slew of apologies her partner mumbled. She dragged Virion by his arm until they reached Ike.

"And still donning the Altean blue," Cherche said while she examined Ike from headband to boot tip. "It suits you. Although I like you better in short sleeves."

"You're blowing my cover," Ike said sarcastically. "I just snuck through the gates an hour ago and hoped no one would notice."

Cherche laughed. She offered Ike the opportunity to praise her new silver hairband before she gave up and interlaced her free arm with his.

"You should visit Persis more often," she said with a grin. "I have to tell you so much."

She waved an engagement ring in front of Ike's face.

"And Minerva didn't try to eat him?" he asked. Cherche's pet wyvern wasn't exactly the type to share her rider. And she had the arm-crushing talons and the maw full of teeth to defend her place as Cherche's favorite.

"Only once. And she only growled for a little bit during our flight here. Although, when he tried to mount—"

Virion flinched and shook his shoulder-length hair farther over his face. "I doubt this story holds any details that are of interest to Ike."

"Oh, isn't that Rath over there? My, that crown does suit him. But he looks like he could use something to cheer him up. Maybe he'll want to hear the story." Cherche tiptoed and threatened to brandish her newly ringed hand above the crowd for everyone to see.

Virion shrunk deeper into the shadows of his hair. "Have we not agreed to wait with public announcements?"

"And where's the fun in that?" Cherche turned back to Ike. "He's so shy when it comes to this. You won't believe how long it took him to gather the words to ask me."

"Unheard of," Ike said. "Last I remember, the words would never stop pouring out of his mouth."

"Cherche has the beauty which the roses of Persis cannot even hope to capture," Virion said without looking at either of them. "Her heart carries a kindness to make all gods seem cruel by comparison. She alone will nurse a cripple back to health and not leave his bedside for months. How could I dare to taint such beauty with a question this presumptuous?"

Cherche smiled and brushed Virion's hair aside. The soft candlelight failed to mask the burn scars disfiguring the right side of his face. From the corner of his mouth all the way to his hairline, torn and melted flesh replaced once perfect skin. A permanent reminder of his encounter with the last Pheraen king's sword.

Cherche placed a kiss first on Virion's scarred cheek and then on his mouth.

"You are the most beautiful man I know," she said. "And I want to share a dance with this man now. I'll see you around, Ike!"

"Congrats," Ike mumbled into his cup and watched as Cherche dragged Virion onto the dancefloor, spilled wine and stepped-on toes included.

Now that the flock of peacocks had heard him talk, they shuffled towards Ike with renewed confidence – and much giggling. He rolled his shoulders but didn't find the comforting pressure of Ragnell. With a silent curse, he snatched himself another cup of wine.

But despite all his glares at the ball guests around him, he stayed for the main event.

When she glided into the room with the tactful delay expected for the host, heads near and far turned. The orchestra of flutes and vielles halted in their performance even though she hurried to wave them on. With her simple silver dress, she probably hoped to blend in with the room and its waving curtains, but oh, how miserably she failed. The circlet in her long indigo hair shone for everyone to see.

Lucina, queen of Altea, had turned twenty-one today, and next to her, all the pretty glass embellishments and all the pretty pairs on the dancefloor lost their gleam. If anyone could convince the stars to abandon their heavenly home and descend to earth, she could. She only needed one hesitant smile to do it.

Damn it.

Ike settled for the stronger type of wine.

A sea of well-wishers flooded around Lucina, and her ever-loyal second shadow, Frederick, barely had a chance to fend one man off before the next two opponents stepped onto the scene. So went the story with unmarried queens. Every baron between Ostia and Leonster, and every trade master smelling royal riches stepped forward to congratulate Lucina. She answered with polite smiles. When she fought her way to simpler and more genuine guests, the warmth in her eyes could melt even the sternest glaciers around Johtran.

The orchestra played one waltz after another, and Lucina never ran out of men who hurried to offer their arm. But she only laughed once, when she abducted Frederick for a carol. Hand in hand, the ball crowd chased each other clockwise while the more distinguished dancers sneered.

Thankfully, Cherche only had eyes for Virion, so Ike escaped the dancefloor. Twice one of the braver peacocks offered her hand to him for a waltz, but a glare chased her away.

The desired headache failed to manifest. Ike didn't even get drunk enough to stumble headfirst into the pot with syrup punch like that one merchant with his purple-feathered cap. A pair of guards led him out of the ballroom free of charge. Lucky bastard.

After another hour of deafening laughter and blinding splendor, Ike gave up on the wine and marched towards the great floor-level windows and the balcony beyond. Silver-threaded curtains swayed like captured waterfalls. A guard threw the feast inside a miserable look. He stood to attention when Ike passed him, and Ike had never wanted to swap places with a man more. The guard had kept both his weapon and his silk-free uniform for the occasion.

At least the ghastly serenade of lutes and dizzy dancers vying for the queen's attention faded into the night the farther Ike walked. The balcony extended a couple dozen steps, more like a plateau from which the head of Altea could overview their kingdom. At the Glass Fortress' foot, the town held their own feast in honor of their queen, and the crowds spun around their celebratory fires, drunk on ale and a long year of peace.

It felt wrong.

The great peace of Archanea – bards already wrote songs about it. No one looked to the west. And why should they look for scattered ruins and a black fortress in distant woods when the view from their porch promised golden days worthy of the eternal paradise their accursed goddess promised?

Ike stopped at the balustrade and did look to the west. The moon dressed the river hugging the Glass Fortress and the barley fields beyond in silver veils, all the way to the Copper Mountain's cragged foothills. Everything after that lay in darkness.

And despite everything, Ike still hung around in some glittering castle on some glittering feast and waited for the evil to catch up to him.

It didn't catch him tonight.

Lucina did.

"I was afraid you had already abandoned me to all these eligible barons," she said as she stepped next to Ike. This time, her smile was genuine. For some reason, that simple fact offered him a great deal of satisfaction.

"I'm shocked they aren't frothing at your heels for once," Ike said.

"Frederick is keeping them busy."

"He would fight an army with his bare hands if you told him to do it. But sooner or later those barons will realize he doesn't quite have the pretty face to replace you."

Lucina chuckled. And that too offered Ike a great deal of satisfaction.

"You hate it, don't you?" she asked then.

"What, you mean the frothing barons or the noise from the rest of the bunch when they stumble over each other on the dancefloor? Who wouldn't love that? I'm having the time of my life. The only thing missing is a speech from your Altean lackeys to convert me to Nagaism, I haven't had that one today."

"Ike…"

Damn it. She needed exactly three letters to make him feel heard and silenced. Chosen and guilty.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said. "This day is for you. Just start a war with someone, and I'll be off and happy."

"Haven't we moved past this?" Lucina placed her hand onto the balustrade, close to Ike. An invitation. "Can I ask something from you for my birthday?"

"Sure."

"I want you to be honest with me. Just for tonight."

Ike had about a thousand honest thoughts he could share with Lucina. The way she looked up at him, the light from inside caressing one side of her face, invited him to confess his darkest secrets and his silliest hopes and his everything. That had to be how gods enwrap their followers for a lifetime. And Ike was only one breath and one outstretched hand away from surrendering.

"You're probably tired of it," he said. "But I—"

Ike never made it farther than that. Someone laughed behind them, one of those laughs for professional con men, too loud and too intrusive. And always with a terrible timing.

The laugh belonged to a guest of whom Ike remembered neither the face nor the name – but a fist between his shiny teeth would certainly improve his visage.

"There you are, Your Highness," the man said and shuffled up to Lucina. "Everyone has been wondering where you disappeared to. But it looks like I found you first. My lucky day. If you are not too busy, would you offer me a moment of your time?"

Lucina's smile was stiff around the corners of her mouth. "Certainly."

"Wonderful! Your Highness is too kind." The man didn't outright snatch Lucina's hand from the balustrade, and for the longevity of his fingers, that was probably for the best. "Chilling outside, isn't it? As I was saying, I believe Altea has squandered much of the potential of its magic users. Not that I hold Your Highness responsible, but I thought I should bring up the subject in person, if I can. Over a year has gone by since King Roy, and our mage monasteries are still in ruin. Have you visited one? Ah, but of course you must be busy with other issues, I would never dare—"

The slew of words never ebbed, and the man had no problem working his jaw muscles overtime while also directing Lucina back to the dancefloor and the war over the honor as her waltz partner fought inside.

Lucina threw Ike an apologetic look. "We will talk later, okay?"

"Sure."

"As I was saying, young people with a magical aptitude are left without guidance. My daughter – you should absolutely meet her, Your Highness, she is an angel, if I may say so. She has no one to teach her. And her talents are growing, and there are the stories. Mere rumors, most likely, I mean, who has ever heard of ordinary people vanishing into thin air, but it does make one worried, worried indeed, and as such—"

The noise from the orchestra thankfully drowned out the man's monologue. Ike threw his head back and stifled a groan. The moon had yet to reach its peak. This was going to be a long night.

No amount of alcohol would soothe his agitation, a cramp between his shoulder blades that became worse and worse with every minute he was missing Ragnell. Pacing along the balcony with an occasional glimpse for a wave of indigo hair busied his thoughts for only a short while.

Ike glared into the night. The evil glared back, stalking, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Click-clack.

Peace time had its own tune in Ike's head, and it went click-clack. Another ten cups of wine sounded more and more like a good idea.

Lucina soon could not recall all the conversations she held throughout the evening. One face blurred into the other, one story seeped into the next, all to the sound of flutes and laughter. Turn after turn on the tiled floor.

And how wonderful the music, how magnificent the many congratulants, the words and looks of awe from so many people. She saved her genuine smile for the best of them, but the wine, the waltz, the merriment of true peace was infectious. She had succeeded, and every laughing face she passed proved it. So many dreams realized in chandelier gleam and velvet wrappings.

Frankly, Lucina had every reason to smile. But while she spun from one expectant hand to the next, she could not stop her glances past the silver curtains to the balcony.

Something troubled Ike. Since they had placed the final stone of the rebuilt Glass Fortress together, he had become restless. When they talked, he never sat down, his eyes always darted in search for shadows. Lucina knew these habits of his from before, but the restlessness grew worse. Knocking Altea's knights into the sand of the training rotunda could only fill so many hours of his day. The remaining ones he spent looking over his shoulder as though on the run from his thoughts.

Lucina had a solid idea of the spruce-laden origin of these thoughts. But as expected, Ike refused to share them with her.

Once more her gaze searched the darkness between the flowing curtains. He owed her an honest conversation. This might dim the glitter of her birthday celebration with a rather black shadow, but for Ike's sake, Lucina accepted the loss.

She was debating how to best excuse herself from her current dancing partner when a voice behind her said, "Change of partners," and snatched the hand she had raised for a twirl.

The music had given no indication for a partner change. The hand now locked around hers was decidedly rougher than the last. Work-hardened. Or rather battle-hardened.

Her new partner spun her around, closer than necessary, and Lucina found herself face to face with a familiar grin. She stiffened. A hut covered in snow, a king-killing sword, a deal she had almost fallen into. She sucked in a breath, and had her opposite not put his other hand around her waist, she might have stumbled.

No mistaking it. The new tunic couldn't distract from the black coat. The blonde hair, the pale eyes in which simmered a wolf's hunger, all of it belonged to…

"Lloyd!"

His grin grew even more wolfish as he drew her in for the next dance. "Isn't this a small world?"

The White Wolf – the man more than lived up to his assassin title. His record included more dead nobles than Lucina liked to count, one scenario more gruesome than the last, and the fact that she had escaped his claws once bordered on a miracle.

Lucina swept the ballroom with her eyes but spotted neither Ike nor Frederick. All around, the pairs waltzed, unaware of the assassin in their midst.

"Nice party you have going on here. I considered just sticking by the buffet and stuffing myself on your free pastries." Lloyd spun Lucina around to the music and pulled her close, his breath on her face. "But this is better."

Lucina forced her panicked heart to slow. Several daggers, maybe even a short sword might hide between the folds of Lloyd's coat. If he intended to kill her, he could have done so already. Unless he was playing with his prey, waiting for the fear to overtake its victim.

Lucina wouldn't give him any fear.

"What earned me the honor of your visit?" she asked.

"The gates were open, and I couldn't help myself. Old assassin habit. I could hear the music all the way in the east wing. And then I thought, why not congratulate an old friend on her accomplishments?"

Round and round they went. The room was spinning.

"It was foolish of me to think that you would give up the assassin business." Lucina stepped on Lloyd's toe – briefly enough to make it look like an accident. "Who hired you?"

"I'm heartbroken. Is there so little trust between us after all we been through?" Lloyd leaned forward, too close, poised for the throat. "You and me, we're the only ones who saw the expression on your dear mother's face when she died."

Lucina tensed. Round and round they went.

"Although you were a bit young at the time. Should I maybe refresh your memory?"

Candles, faces, the room itself blurred into lines as they turned. Lucina's head was spinning. Why hadn't she brought a weapon? Falchion might have been too much, but a knife at least…

The music shifted, and as if he had waited for the cue, Lloyd pulled back and eased his grip around Lucina's waist. An armistice. For now.

"For a royal, you're doing great," Lloyd said. "A birthday celebration for anyone to attend – even the folks without a title can get a glimpse of the golden life. See that merchant over there?" Lucina followed Lloyd's gaze. The merchant he nodded towards fidgeted with the collar of his tunic. "He borrowed that doublet. See how he isn't used to the fancy hems? And still he gets to attend the most glamorous event of the year. Now that he's gotten a sip of the wine here, he might never want to leave."

He spoke in the lighthearted tone of their previous meeting, where the head of a king had been nothing more than an item to purchase over a bottle of Talys wine. But the words didn't come as effortlessly from his lips as before.

"And the girl over there," Lloyd continued. "Her father or an older brother dragged her here. Their business has been out of luck since the end of the Empire at least. She keeps glancing at the knights and the gold in their pockets, but the cut of her dress isn't up to standard. A dusty heirloom, I would say. What do you think how old she is? Fourteen?" Here he paused. "Girls her age don't belong at the front lines. Chess pieces is what they are. Nothing but chess pieces."

Lucina forced an even breath. If experience had taught her anything than that the most dangerous foes spoke softly while whetting their knives. She would have to move carefully, probe the goal behind his words.

"And then there's all these yokels standing in line to dance with the queen," Lloyd said. His grin took half a second too long to manifest. "Strokes the ego to have the center of attention all to yourself, doesn't it? Still, it's better than your escapades with the Pheraen crown."

"I have learned from my mistakes," Lucina said. "What about you?"

He huffed a laugh. "I'm afraid the answer is strictly confidential."

"Your assassin instincts have rusted in the past year if you think you can push a dagger into my back in the middle of the ballroom and get away with it. A commission can only be so lucrative if it is your last one."

"Maybe I enjoy the risk."

"Of course you do. But you didn't strike me as quite so suicidal last time."

"Things change in eighteen months. Maybe people do too."

Lucina jutted her chin. No fear. "Why are you really here?"

The orchestra built towards its crescendo. Lloyd grinned, leaned closer and closer until he breathed into her ear. "As a distraction."

The room tilted while the music spiraled for the final pirouette. Somewhere to Lucina's right sounded urgent steps, out of rhythm.

Lloyd pulled back. "Did I succeed?"

He knew he did. And while Lucina's thoughts raced after the answer to this riddle, half convinced Rath or Virion or one of her other noble guests slumped between the dancers with a dagger in their back this moment, one clarity remained: Lloyd had tricked her. She had merely danced along.

With a final flute chord, the waltz ended, and people scattered left and right in search for new partners. Lloyd nodded to Lucina and disappeared into the crowd. Her mind struggled to catch up, let alone send orders to her muscles. If Lloyd had held the promised dagger to her throat, she could not have been more tense.

The urgent steps from before grew louder, and Ike pushed past the last dancers to reach her side. His breath smelled of alcohol, but the glares he sent Lucina and her disappeared partner were more than sober. He had to have read the worry on her face.

"Trouble?" he asked. Direct and ready for battle as always.

His presence helped Lucina to overpower the shock and apply rationality. After three attempts on her life courtesy of Lloyd's assassin colleagues, she should know better than to freeze like a deer under the wyvern's claws.

"Definitely trouble," she said. "Where did you leave Ragnell?"

"My quarters. And Falchion?"

"By the throne. Meet me in the east wing in three minutes."

They nodded to each other and ran to gather their swords. True peace – Lucina would have to endure another night of fighting to achieve it.

Lucina's bare feet beat on the tiled floor of the east wing, and she suppressed a shudder. She had traded her unhandy dancing shoes for Falchion, and the sword gave her fingers something to latch onto other than the cold hallway air. The dress still posed a problem. The rustle of fabric would warn Lloyd of her coming well in advance.

No man of his caliber would enter the Glass Fortress underequipped. A fight was guaranteed.

Provided Lucina even found him. He had mentioned the east wing; a passing remark, but in retrospect, it struck her as more than odd. Of course, he could be toying with her again. By now he might have already climbed the roofs and vanished into the night. Whatever coup he was supposed to distract her from might have already concluded its final act.

But when she held her breath and bit her lip in an attempt to filter out the noise from the ballroom, she still thought to hear a pair of hunter boots, not far down the corridor. The soft walk of a seasoned assassin. The sounds might just belong to Lloyd.

What she did not understand was the why. The Glass Fortress offered moderate treasures, a small dribble compared to the lake of gold in Lycia's vaults. An assassination attempt then, on one of her guests who hadn't found their way to the ballroom?

Lucina swallowed and fought the urge to stop and massage warmth back into her feet. Even without Lloyd, she had faced enough assassins to last her a lifetime. If at least she had put on a cape and a decent pair of boots…

The ballroom laughter had all but faded. The empty hallway ahead welcomed Lucina like a maw, lit only by cords of moonlight weaving through the windows. This part of the Glass Fortress stemmed from a time before Pherae's conquest. Wyverns and Roy's revenge-fueled fires had not dug far enough to rage here, and the glass decorations on the half-columns had witnessed the fall of nations. Ancient murals depicting the creation of the world lined the hallway.

Lucina shivered.

Ike had to make a detour to pick up Ragnell, but he should arrive at any moment. He would cover her back, and besides, she had dueled with some of the best Archanean fighters of her time. She had no reason to falter.

Around the next corner, she found Lloyd. And his broad-shouldered accomplice.

"What do you mean you got lost?" Lloyd snapped at his partner. "She showed you the map around a thousand times. You know what'll happen if we delay."

"The guards—"

"The guards are the least of our problems."

Then Lloyd noticed Lucina. This time he did not smile. "Go ahead as planned. I'll take the guest."

With a grunt, the broad-shouldered thief tossed Lloyd a sword. The king-killing blade captured the moonlight. The other thief headed down the corridor, and the first attack came no second later.

A dagger shot through the dark and lodged into a column just as Lucina took cover behind it; the sword had meant to distract her. Lloyd knew how to play the game.

She rolled out of the way. Lloyd freed his dagger, it rained glass, and Lucina returned to her feet in time to block a slash for her throat. The ragged blade shrieked when it met Falchion.

Her opponent recovered faster, too fast, and the dagger struck a nasty tear into her dress. No wounds. For now.

Lucina's breath stumbled. She wouldn't outmaneuver Lloyd in her dress. Her only way was forward.

She dove under a wide slash, pounced when her opponent expected a retreat. He bent backwards, boots shuffled, but they stood too close. Falchion slit upwards, halved Lloyd's collar. Steel, inches away from flesh.

He retaliated, fast. All pretense of flirtation and a light-hearted dance had disappeared. There it was again, that spark in his eyes. The mania of the killer? Or the sign of a desperate man at the breaking point?

He threw his dagger, and the blade sliced the air mere inches from Lucina's face. She jumped backwards, assessing for weak spots, feeling the cold tiles under her soles.

Lloyd raised the Regal Blade. "I almost worried you would only reward me with a dance for my troubles," he said between gritted teeth.

Lucina glanced at the dagger stuck in the wall. The obsidian symbol on the hilt tightened her stomach, but she strangled her unease.

"You're with the Black Fang again," she said and steadied her stance.

She should have known better. Lloyd was a man who not only admitted the killing of a woman with her infant in her arms but sold the story as a great accomplishment over a mug of wine. He would never quit his guild for long, no matter how often she spared his life. The dance, the duel, his feigned familiarity, it was all a game to him. But to see him with a Black Fang dagger still stung like a personal betrayal.

Lloyd shrugged. "And you didn't need my help to kill the last king of Pherae. Guess we're both disappointed."

Then he charged.

With his dagger, Lloyd was fast and precise. With the Regal Blade, he was deadly. Blow for blow he hammered against Falchion. The two swords shimmered with a blessing from the moon as they danced, forwards and backwards and in ambitious twirls to make their previous performance in the ballroom look amateurish.

The dress crippled Lucina, and where she would otherwise spin and sidestep, now she stumbled. Her feet throbbed with cold and then with numbness. She cut herself on the glass shards.

But Lloyd didn't enjoy their rematch either. His strokes lacked their passion. Still, he had the upper hand, and if Lucina stepped on the hem of her dress, she would die. The hallway only extended so far, soon she would run out of space to evade. Then their dance would find a hard stop, with or without the cue from an orchestra.

Lloyd pushed forward and did the last thing Lucina anticipated: He let go of his sword.

The move went against everything her tutors had drilled into her, against every strategy she knew, and while she still wondered, Lloyd caught his sword backhanded.

This was an attack to kill kings.

Lucina scurried, raised Falchion to block, but she couldn't stop the sword pommel from knocking against her skull.

A cacophony of jingling erupted. The corridor lopsided. If Lucina hadn't softened the blow with her arm, she would have lain on the tiles and at Lloyd's mercy. Even so, her disorientation might doom her.

Feet drummed, booted and heavy. Lucina's heel struck a wall. Cornered.

She would only need one hand to count her remaining breaths now.

The moment before she closed her eyes, a blue light challenged the moon. It darted across the glass shards, reflections of a spectacle almost divine. How beautiful…

Ike jumped at Lloyd from the right. The blue light erupted from Ragnell, and clad in this fiery storm and with only one stroke, he cut Lloyd's sword in half.

"Sorry for the delay," Ike said and took position next to Lucina. "Next time you wait for me, okay?"

Lucina took a deep breath to shake off the dizziness. "Gladly."

Shoulder to shoulder, they advanced towards Lloyd.

"The odds are a bit unbalanced, don't you think?" Lloyd raised his empty palms and took a step backwards. "But I guess I should have known better. To think that a queen would not hide herself behind her personal army for once – how silly of me."

"What do you hope to find here?" Lucina asked. "Has the Black Fang become desperate enough to waste their talents on theft and burglary?"

"You may have changed your crown, Your Highness. But you still don't know half a thing." Lloyd took another step towards the window. "Well, it's been fun. Hope we get to continue where we left off some other fine night. Maybe without your hanger-on."

Ike growled and pushed forward.

Lloyd gave Lucina a mocking salute. Then he swung himself over the windowsill and disappeared. By the time Lucina reached the window, the night had already swallowed him.

"Lloyd!"

For an answer, Lucina only received the distant laughter from the gold-lit ballroom.

"A friend of yours?" Ike asked.

His tone revealed no unrest, but his eyes darted across Lucina's body for injuries all the same. When he stopped at her bare, bloody feet, he looked as though he could imagine nothing sweeter than to jump after Lloyd and chase him all the way into the five hells.

"It's a long story." Lucina brushed her dress back to place to hide her wounds under the hem. "You were comatose at the time."

Ike grimaced. "Don't remind me."

"Whatever Lloyd was after, he didn't have a chance to find it. But he might have bought his partner enough time to do so. Come on, we have to catch up to him."

"Are you sure you're—"

Lucina offered Ike an encouraging smile. "I'm alright. I promise."

Ike, after a moment of hesitation, nodded, and together they followed the trail of the second thief.

After over a year and uncounted hours of repair work, the Glass Fortress still withheld secrets from Lucina. Masons had stacked the bricks past which she and Ike hurried decades, maybe centuries ago. One spiraling staircase followed another, and the wet stone groaned under their steps. The light around Ragnell served as their torch. But the swirling flames dimmed, and soon they produced more shadows than light. Still Lucina pushed forward. Even when the path split, she didn't hesitate for long. A voice or maybe a piece of music half-forgotten tore her forward.

Suddenly the path ended. A crude stone wall closed off the corridor. And in front of that wall stood the second thief.

His hand palpated the wall. In despair? Or with purpose? When Ragnell's light bounced off the stone, he dropped his torch and slammed both fists against the barrier. With a howl, he whirled around to face his pursuers.

Lucina didn't know the face, but she thought to recognize a likeness to Lloyd's jawline and the shape of his brow. Ike tensed next to her.

"You got to be kidding me," he said. "I thought the hailstorm had swallowed you for good. Linus, or what was it?"

"A friend of yours?" Lucina asked.

"It's a long story."

Linus ignored their exchange and lifted the broadsword from his shoulders. "You just had to dig around in business that has nothing to do with you. What did you do to my brother?"

"So that guy was your brother?" Ike asked. His voice dripped with sarcasm. "It all makes sense now. One jumps out of a window on the third floor and the other hangs around in front of some wall with no door. The idiocy must be running in the family."

Linus slammed his sword into the nearest wall. A slow, predictable movement but powerful nonetheless. Plaster flaked from the cut several inches deep. Even chainmail could have hardly survived such a blow. Chainmail neither Ike nor Lucina wore.

"Care to say that again?" Linus asked.

Before Ike could counter with more insults, Lucina stepped forward. "Linus, it doesn't have to end like this. You have nowhere to run. If you tried, maybe you could kill both of us in a duel. But do you think you will be fortunate again when the next waves of guards come? Because they will come. And when they realize that you murdered their queen, they will offer you no mercy. I won't be there to restrain their hands from the killing blow then. What do you think your chances will be?"

"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?"

Lucina took another step forward but still made no move to raise Falchion. "What I would like is for you to tell us why you snuck into the Glass Fortress."

"Not gonna happen."

"Your pockets are empty. It seems you haven't found what you came for, so aside from unwelcomed entering, you have committed no crimes I could judge you for. Naga be my witness, I will let you go unharmed. But I need your word. Give me a reason to be merciful."

"Like your precious goddess?" Linus spat out. "No one needs that breed of mercy. A little doll with a crown, that's all you are."

Ike stepped forward, Ragnell poised to repay each of Linus' words with a slash, but Lucina motioned him to stay back. "If you prefer the mercy of the blade," she said to Linus, "so be it. But know that your brother has abandoned you. You would be fighting this battle alone. Will you?"

Linus chose the blade.

He drew back his sword, determined to cut through Lucina as he had done with the wall. A slow, predictable movement.

Lucina darted sideways, tossed Falchion upward. Linus' sword split the tiles.

And while he still gaped, she caught her own sword backhanded, jumped, and rammed the pommel against his left temple. The same technique Lloyd had used.

Linus went limp. In a reflex, his free hand twitched towards the dagger at his belt, a final attempt on her life, but by then he had already lost consciousness. Sword and dagger clattered to the ground to join Linus' forgotten torch, and the corridor heaved a sigh.

Ike stepped next to Lucina. "Nice trick. You didn't even need me."

"Linus knew he was outnumbered. He would not have admitted it, but your presence made him just nervous enough to fall back into his most familiar and most predictable fighting pattern."

"Still. With you around, one could almost believe in knights."

Ike was exaggerating. The adrenalin still hammered in Lucina's veins, and whenever she turned her head in a particular direction, her thoughts turned hazy. Twice tonight she had waltzed with death, and if not for Ike, she might not have returned from the brink. At times, inches had separated her from a death through the blade. And sometimes, inches had separated her from a fate far worse.

Roy's glacier eyes flashed before Lucina. His tunic growing red. But under the torn assassin cloak, Linus' chest still rose and fell with a steady breath. Ike knelt next to him and tied his hands with Linus' belt. The Black Fang dagger wandered into Ike's hand. For a moment, he held it near Linus' throat, and maybe he wondered why he shouldn't reduce the number of black evils in this world by one.

The moment passed, and Ike attached the dagger to his own belt.

"I guess we'll drop him off at the dungeon then." He grabbed Linus by the collar and half-dragged half-carried him down the corridor. "Mind lending me a hand with the torch?"

Lucina shook herself out of her stupor and picked up the torch. It flickered strangely, the light wound across the stone, crept inward. The breeze carried a tinkle, and she threw a last look over her shoulder. Nothing but stone glared back at her. With a shudder, she hurried to catch up to Ike.

Their steps fell in sync.

"Ike?" He met Lucina's gaze, and for a brief, wonderful moment, they walked as two ordinary people next to each other. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Frederick had expectedly mobilized every guard on and off duty as well as half the palace staff in search for Lucina. When she presented him with a handcuffed Linus as an explanation, the furrow between his brows deepened another inch. Several lectures and pleas for caution likely sat on his tongue, but he contented himself with wrapping his cape around Lucina's shoulders. She thanked him by suppressing a sneeze. At least the guests continued their dance undisturbed.

When Linus awoke to the company of prison bars and the combined glares of Frederick and Ike, he didn't prove more talkative. The dagger he had raised against Lucina proved his allegiance with the Black Fang. After the past months of peace had stagnated their business, the assassin guild had snuck out of hiding. But whether he and his brother had entered the Glass Fortress with the prospect of slit throats or full pockets, Linus would not say.

Frederick slammed the door to Linus' cell with more force than necessary. The torchlight of the dungeon highlighted his frown.

"Of all the days, they had to choose your anniversary for their wretched doings," he said. "Have they no shred of decency?"

Ike tossed Linus' ragged dagger into his other hand. "I don't think decency exists in their vocabulary."

"If at least we had apprehended the second thief… The three entrances make these dungeons near impossible to guard with the small number of knights we have. Should the Black Fang attempt to free Linus, I have little doubt regarding their success."

"And that from the Altean general. You handpicked and trained those guards over there, didn't you?"

"Of course! But one year of training hardly suffices to teach them the virtues of knighthood, not to speak of swordsmanship. Tonight showed how ill-prepared we still are as the military heart of new Altea. I should have doubled the guards instead of allowing half of them to attend the ball. If we cannot even fend off two assassins, how can we hope to prevail against an enemy army?"

"We just ask Rath to lend us his troops."

Frederick somehow managed to straighten his tall frame even further. The festive tunic wouldn't fool anyone; he was a knight with every scar and every fiber of his being.

"King Rath," he corrected, "has a responsibility towards his own people. We should be thankful that he evaded a confrontation with the assassins. Think of the scandal if the king of Pherae had been wounded while under our protection!"

"All this is no coincidence."

Lucina had listened to Ike's and Frederick's discussion with only half an ear. She still contemplated the puzzle around Lloyd's true intentions. Now she slipped from the bench where she had sat to win both Ike's and Frederick's attention.

"The Black Fang must have chosen this specific day for a reason," she continued. "I cannot shake the feeling that they were fated to enter the Glass Fortress tonight. Just like we were fated to stop them."

Ike raised a brow. "And where does that lead us?"

"The key lies with whatever Lloyd and Linus were looking for. I'm certain."

"Whatever it was, they didn't get it. And that dimwit over there won't talk."

Lucina tapped her foot. With her cuts bandaged and her favorite boots returned to her, she felt the comfort of control warming her body. She still had a mystery to solve, and thoughts about the corridor in the east wing still chilled her through the wool of Frederick's cape. But she could yet master this test. She already had a suspicion.

"Lloyd told Linus to go ahead as planned," she said. "They knew the fortress layout well enough to enter without stirring any commotion among the guards. I doubt Linus would run into a corridor with a dead end without reason."

Fredrick looked unconvinced. "To my knowledge, we have little of value in the east wing. Both the treasury and the armory are under locks elsewhere."

"All the more suspicious that they would be sneaking around in the east wing, isn't it? Something must be hidden there."

"Alright, I'll come with you," Ike said. "I don't have the patience for interrogations anyway." With a look at Frederick, he added, "You'll handle the rest here?"

"We won't be long," Lucina said.

Frederick worked his jaw, conflicted. But after a long look at Lucina, starting at the golden circlet in her hair and ending at her face, he stood to attention as the textbook example of the dutiful knight. "Be careful. Both of you."

He and Ike exchanged a nod before Ike fell in line to guard Lucina's flank. In moments like this, Lucina dared to hope that he was warming up to a life as her knight. That perhaps he would continue to walk by her side. He had stayed with her in the Glass Fortress all these months…

Lucina shook her head to chase off this thought. She had forced Ike into the mantle of her general once. She would not shackle him like that again. If he left, and his eventual flight into distant spruce forests was all but certain, she would let him go. Even if her steps on the cold tiles of the east wing faltered at the thought.

The drumming of the ballroom's current waltz had yet to fade out when Lucina and Ike reached the corridor where they had apprehended Linus. The wall towered before them, as plain as before. But Lucina swore the torch in her hand flared up as though stirred by an otherworldly breath. Strange creatures, born from the flickering light, chased each other across the stone.

Lucina placed her hand on the wall as she had seen Linus do. Again, a gust brushed her cheeks with crystalline fingers. A secret passage?

Ike joined her attempts, and together they searched the stone for cavities and hidden levers. Their torches burned down, and Lucina was about to label her suspicions as sleep-deprived fantasies when Ike struck a stone farther to the right with the hilt of Linus' dagger. A sharp pling rang out; different from the solid walls all around.

The space behind the brick was hollow. Ike dug through the surrounding mortar, and the ragged assassin blade broke through. The first brick fell. Beyond, a dim corridor inhaled as though woken from a decade-long slumber, and the torches flickered.

Lucina trembled. She was close, so close, whatever lay beyond this wall had waited for her. For her alone.

She rushed to help Ike, and stone for stone, they cleared away the wall. Its bricks were newer, smaller. Their torchlight hurried ahead, conquering the dim corridor no person had set foot in for years.

Soon, the last bricks caved. Ahead reigned the unknown.

Lucina collected an encouraging nod from Ike and stepped through. Ancient air enveloped her. After a few yards, the corridor fell off into a set of stone stairs. Its foot lost itself in the dimness ahead. The urge to walk on grew stronger, the depths beckoned Lucina forward, a voice in the back of her head pushed her. She obeyed.

How many steps she climbed downward, she couldn't tell. The sound of Ike's boots behind her reassured her with its steady beat. If he felt half the anticipation Lucina did, he kept it well hidden.

At last, the stairway led into a round chamber. But neither gold coins nor historic trinkets reflected the light of their torches; only bare stone did. The chamber was empty except for a pedestal at its center. A piece of cloth concealed that which sat on the pedestal, an item no larger than Lucina's torso. Would Lloyd and Linus risk imprisonment for this alone?

Lucina barely cared to contemplate an answer. The voice pushing her forward swelled into a choir. So close, she was so close, she only needed to stretch out a hand.

"Lucina?"

She didn't listen. By itself, her hand grabbed the piece of cloth and pulled.

Her torchlight bounced back from the gold surface of a shield. Time and rust had failed to eat into the metal, and the dragon winding across its face had lost nothing of its beauty. The creature's claws and maw held onto five molds on the shield face. And in one of the molds sat a green gemstone, so pure and perfect it seemed to store all ponds and all forests of this world in its depths.

Lucina reached out. Her fingertips brushed the shield.

The moment she made contact, Ike and the chamber vanished in a blinding white. And the last thing she heard was the jingle of a windchime.

Note: Well, what do you know, it's an especially long chapter this time. It used to be shorter, but then I just kept adding new snippets here and there. What can I say, Lloyd is fun to write. You didn't think I would only include him for that one chapter in Book II, did you? Without saying too much, he won't be the only puzzle piece I will bring back to assemble in the coming chapters, hehe.

Oh, and if you haven't already, check out my beta's Legacy - Knight of Altea on AO3. It tells the fall of the Altean kingdom from 21 years ago from a different perspective and also hints at some ideas and characters I will explore more here. He worked hard on this piece, so please show him some love. I'll see you next week with a long-awaited re-encounter for Lucina.