Chapter 15: Requiem for the Brave
Castle Altea, The Kingdom of Altea, Archanea
Arch. Year 609
Byleth's soup bowl was too hot. The polished ceramic was beginning to burn his hands as he stared down at the liquid inside, unblinking, unmoving, but he kept a tight grip on it despite the heat. It served as a welcome distraction from the aches in his chest, the weakness consuming every fragment and bone in his body.
"You should eat, Professor," Ashe said, balancing his own soup bowl on the arm of his chair. He spoke so softly that his words were almost drowned out by the rain pounding against the windows behind them. "It'll help you recover."
Byleth doubted that, but he grabbed his spoon anyway. He spun the broth around a few times, watching steam rise off the surface, then scooped a serving into his mouth. Too hot, just like the bowl. So hot that he couldn't actually taste the soup's flavoring. Not that he really cared.
Ashe picked up his bowl—with gloved hands, Byleth noticed…smart—but instead of digging into the meal himself, he offered it to the merchant sitting on the ground next to him.
"Here, you should—"
"Don't want any," Anna mumbled, glassy eyes staring at nothing on the wall. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her knees. Water dripped from her hair, from her face, and from her shirt; she hadn't bothered to change into the clothes provided to them by the princess and the castle staff.
The others, while dry, weren't faring much better. His students and the Valentians sat in front of the fireplace, wrapping themselves up in blankets as they chased away the chills that had come from spending hours outside in the pouring rain. A few of them were sipping on their soup, but most hadn't even touched their portions yet. Close by, Sophie and Kana were huddled together under a blanket, dozing off every so often before a clap of thunder would jolt them awake, leaving them pale and shivering.
The atmosphere, the distant stares, the overbearing silence…it was utterly depressing.
Only three people seemed to have enough energy to be up on their feet: the princess Elice, pacing around the hall with a staff in her hands; the royal knight, Kris, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed, keeping the room under a watchful eye; and Alm, staring at a painting fastened above the fireplace mantel.
It was a grand piece of careful, intricate detail, depicting two men standing victorious over a dragon dressed in shadows. One held a glimmering golden shield to the sky, each corner embedded with a different colored jewel, while the other, a man with long blue hair, wielded a sword that shimmered in radiant light.
"Cartas and Anri the Great," Elice said, joining Alm's side to observe the painting herself. "Heroes of Archanean legend who put an end to the Shadow Dragon's reign of terror, entrusted with two of the most powerful artifacts ever known to man: the divine blade Falchion, and the Fire Emblem."
"Falchion?" Alm asked. He gently unsheathed his sword, holding it up to compare it to the one in the picture. Besides a few differences in the detailing of their handles, the two blades were nearly identical. "Strange…"
Elice's lips curved upwards ever so slightly. "I suppose it's only natural that the Saint-King would be in possession of the other."
Alm drew his gaze away from the painting to the princess, confusion crossing his face.
"It's said that Naga, the leader of the Divine Dragon tribe, forged two sacred blades from her fangs," Elice continued. "Imbued with her purifying breath, they were meant to serve as tools for mankind to use against degenerating dragons and evil sorcery. One was taken to Valentia when Duma and Mila were banished from Archanea—" she motioned to the sword in Alm's hand "—the one you currently wield. The other was tied to Anri's bloodline, and was in the safe keeping of the Altean royal family until…well…"
"…Your brother?" Alm guessed.
Elice grimaced but managed a short nod.
The room once again grew quiet, save for the crackling fire and pattering rain. Byleth slouched in his chair and returned to his soup, but could only get down a few spoonfuls before his stomach began to roll with nausea. He fought the urge to retch, gripping the hot bowl until the porcelain cracked. Slowly, the feeling subsided.
He set the bowl on the floor with a shaky hand. Damn whatever, or whoever, was responsible for this mess, and damn them for his feeble condition. As soon as he found the source of it all—and he would find it, make no mistake—he was going to make it regret the day it had come into existence.
"How?" Anna asked quietly, pulling Byleth from the dark trail his thoughts had begun to take. The merchant hadn't moved an inch; she was still curled into herself, staring at the wall. "My sister and I…right before we left for Valentia, everyone was talking about how Prince Marth had stormed the capital and defeated Emperor Hardin. The Hero-King's done it again! they said. The Altean army has freed us from the Dark Emperor's tyranny!"
The princess just stood in place, eyes closed and chest caving under a trembling breath, as the merchant rambled.
"It doesn't make sense. The Altean army was unstoppable at every turn!" Anna's teeth clenched as fresh tears began to spill down her cheeks. "Jake, Prince Marth…after everything they've overcome, how could everyone just die?!"
"We were tricked," Kris said simply, voice flat and distant.
"Tricked?" A dry laugh tumbled out of her throat. "That's all it took, a trick?"
Kris narrowed his eyes on the merchant and pushed off the wall, but Elice stepped in before he could take more than a few steps, speaking with a leveled composure that had probably taken years of practice to master.
"It wasn't just any trick. It was a scheme devised by the Dark Pontifex himself, Gharnef, as part of his plan to revive Medeus—the Shadow Dragon." She placed a hand on her chest, as if to keep her breathing steady. "Gharnef had taken me and three other noble women prisoner, to use as sacrifices during the war. After Marth emerged victorious from his battle with Hardin, Gharnef conjured illusions with our likeness to trick him into thinking he had rescued us from the emperor's grasp.
"Marth had been wearing the Fire Emblem on his arm at the time. At its full power, the shield should have warded off any dark magic in his presence, drawing from Naga's purifying powers to dispel Gharnef's illusions. But it…it didn't work."
Her gaze turned toward a pedestal sitting at the end of the great hall. The shield from the painting rested atop the white marble, gleaming with a faint golden light against the shadows of the storm. Its glow, while still ethereal, was much dimmer than the artist's rendition.
Byleth leaned forward in his chair, both index fingers pressed to his mouth. A divine artifact once capable of incredible magic…now weakened, failing in a time of critical need.
That sounded awfully familiar.
"Marth was someone who always believed in the goodness of others," Elice continued. "So when the shield didn't react to Gharnef's magic, he put his full trust in the impersonators. And then…when his guard was down, they…"
"They stabbed him in the back," Kris finished, scowling at the ground, "and we couldn't save him."
"We tried everything we could." Elice's hands curled tightly around her staff, nails scraping off flakes of golden paint. "As soon as I was freed from my imprisonment, I tried to use this to bring him back: the Aum Staff, a relic capable of restoring a life lost to misfortune. But his body…" Her posture drooped, as did her arms and the staff in her grip. "His body was gone before I could reach him, as was the Falchion. We planned to have it buried with him…"
"His body disappeared?" Alm asked. "How?"
Kris nodded to the window, pulling his arms even tighter against his chest as another flash of lightning lit up the night sky. "Same thing that's been happening to all the dead."
Byleth's nausea roiled once more. The enemy had gained another powerful addition to their army, then. Divine blade and all.
"Marth was the thread that tied all of Archanea together," Elice said. "When he died, so did the League and our united identity. That left us vulnerable, and when the dead began to rise soon after, we couldn't stop them. Our allies, our friends, even our former enemies…each of them fell, one by one, until only a few of us remained."
"M-my sisters too…they sacrificed themselves so I could get away…" Est visibly shuddered, pulling her blanket tightly around her shoulders. "We were trying to get Lady Tiki to safety together, but there were so many…gods, there were so many…they took her away and w-we couldn't do anything, and then Palla told me to fly back to the castle to get help but that left her and Catria to fight them all alone and I—"
"Breathe, Est." Celica brought Est into a hug, rubbing circles into her back until the girl's breathing returned to normal. "What did you say about someone being taken?"
"L-lady Tiki…they killed Bantu, then took Lady Tiki…"
"Alive?" Celica asked. Est nodded against her shoulder and sniffed.
"Tiki was a young girl in our care," Elice explained for her. "Well, young for a manakete, at least. Bantu had been her guardian for millennia—"
"Wait, a manakete?" The queen shared a look with Alm and Byleth before their collective gazes drifted over to Kana. The boy had fallen asleep again against his sister's shoulder, a thin trail of drool running down his chin. The dragonstone and the pendant sitting in his bandaged hand flickered in time with the rise and fall of his chest. "Are you certain?"
Elice tilted her head at them, a questioning frown pulling at her lips. "Yes…Tiki is Naga's daughter, and the princess of the Divine Dragon tribe. Bantu was a manakete as well—a Fire Dragon, specifically. Why?"
"We have a manakete with us who's been targeted by the invisible soldiers a few times now," Alm said, gesturing to Kana. "We thought it was just him they were after, under the orders of the so-called 'Silent Dragon', but if they've gone out of their way to capture another manakete too…"
"Then this isn't just about Kana or inflicting senseless destruction, there's a bigger plot at play here." Byleth slowly pushed himself off the seat, steadying his balance with the armrests on his way up. "Something they need several dragons for."
"But if that is the case," Elice said, "why would they only take Tiki, and not Bantu? They are both powerful dragons in their own right…unless…" Her head jerked up, eyes searching the painting over the mantel. "Her connection to Naga…"
It was all starting to come together: a dragon related to divinity being taken by the enemy; the abilities and appearance Byleth had gained after merging with Sothis, also divinity, slowly being stripped away from him; Lady Rhea, one of the "Children of the Goddess," going missing back in Fódlan; and artifacts that once could channel the divine diminishing in power…
It couldn't be a coincidence.
"Do you know where they took her?" Byleth asked. "A place, or a direction, at least?"
His tone was as flat as usual—if not a bit ragged from all the coughing and panting he had been doing—but on the inside, there was a small glimmer of hope blooming in his semi-functional heart. If they could figure out where the young dragon had been taken, maybe that would bring them closer to finding the source of all their problems.
"I-I don't remember, I'm sorry…" Est said. "I couldn't bear to look…"
"I might have an idea." Kris pulled a few papers from a pouch on his belt and shuffled through them. "Our scouts have reported consistently high activity among the enemy forces in two regions outside of Altea. In Dolhr, to the south, and in Thabes, to the north."
"The resting places of Medeus and Naga, respectively," Elice added, pursing her lips.
"And home to some other creature lurking within the labyrinth beneath Thabes, if the rumors are to be believed." Kris shoved the papers back into his pocket. "It's likely they would have taken Lady Tiki to one of the two, if that's where they usually congregate. My vote's on Dolhr—I'd bet my life that Gharnef and the Shadow Dragon are involved in this somehow."
"They would stand to gain from Tiki's capture…and our friends' deaths…" Elice mused quietly. "But where does that leave us? Even if we do locate Lady Tiki, or find the people or things responsible for all that has transpired, what can we do to stop them? There's so few of us left now, and Altea is lost—"
"Altea is not lost," Alm said, his voice firm, determined, unwavering. The voice of a king. "Not yet. As long as you still stand, Altea and the rest of Archanea still have a chance." He slid his sword back into his scabbard, sheathing the blade with a harsh chink that rippled through the air. "Our enemy is strong, but so are we. Valentia will support you in any way we can, princess, and together, we will find a way to prevail. You have my word."
A slight smile crept over Elice's face. "That sounds like something my brother would say."
"Really?" Alm rubbed the back of his neck. "From all the great things I've heard about him…I can only hope to be even half the man he was."
Elice gave a soft laugh and shook her head. "You understate yourself. Great tales of the Saint-King, the Warrior Priestess, and their heroic deeds have traveled to even the farthest reaches of Archanea—all true, it would seem."
"Ah, well…"
"But those are stories for another day." Elice set her staff down and folded her hands together. "For now, I think it's time for you all to get some much-needed rest. We'll discuss our next steps in the morning, after the storm has passed and the enemy's magic has run its course. Penvo, Owend?"
Two youthful soldiers scrambled over to the princess, bowing deeply at the waist as they awaited her command.
"Please escort our friends to the east wing and ensure the guestrooms are fully accommodated for the night. We want their stay to be as comfortable as possible." After the soldiers affirmed the order with a stiff salute, Elice turned to Kris. "You should retire as well—"
"I will soon, Your Highness, after a few perimeter checks. Need to think some things over, and make sure you and the castle are safe before I'm ready to even think about sleep." The royal knight secured the straps holding his broadsword, shooting one last sharp glance at Byleth and the others. "You can never be too careful."
And with that not-so-subtle warning, Kris turned on his heel and made his leave from the great hall.
"Geez, what's his problem?" Mae muttered under a bitter breath. "Not like we were just fighting our butts off against the actual threat or anything…"
"Give it some time," Celica said, placing a hand on her back as they followed the soldiers through the castle halls. "His friends, his liege lord, all lost in a short span of time…he has a right to be a little on edge."
Mae puffed out a sigh, but she let the subject go.
—
By the time they reached the guest chambers, everyone was more than ready to collapse into their beds and sleep away the bruises and exhaustion that had accumulated over the long hours of battling in the storm. Byleth watched as they all sluggishly filed into the rooms, exchanging quiet "good nights" before disappearing behind the thick mahogany doors of the chambers.
Everyone except for Felix. His former student seemed to be stuck in place in the hallway, jaw tight and shoulders stiff as he glared at the ground.
"Something wrong?" Byleth asked.
Felix didn't immediately respond. His lips kept twisting this way and that, as though he were trying to form words but couldn't quite get them off his tongue. Byleth just observed the rain through the window, giving Felix time to sort out his thoughts.
Finally, Felix said, "You don't really believe this nonsense, do you?"
"What do you mean?"
"All this talk about working together to somehow miraculously beat the invisible soldiers and their monsters." Felix slouched against the wall, eyebrows drawn in tightly together. "Altea's entire army was destroyed, and from the looks of it, most of the country was destroyed with it. We just barely made it out of that storm alive ourselves. I don't see how joining forces with the last of the Alteans is going to help us survive this war with the dead, let alone win."
"Ever the optimist, Felix."
"I'm just being realistic about our chances. We have a little more information about the enemy's targets, sure, but that doesn't bring us any closer to figuring out how to actually defeat them."
Byleth pressed his forehead against the window, feeling the cold kiss of the glass on his skin. Loathe he was to admit it, Felix had a point. Even with what they had learned today, even with their new allies and Kana's now-controllable dragon form on their side…the odds weren't exactly in their favor.
"And with you being sick and all—"
"I'm not sick," Byleth was quick to claim. As if out of spite, his heart gave a jittery, weak pulse against his ribs, stirring up the nausea in his gut once more. He gripped the windowsill to keep it from showing.
"Denying it isn't going to—"
"I'm not sick."
A few beats of silence hung over them. Felix was twisting his lips again, but whatever he was going to say died with a short sigh.
"You should get some rest," Byleth said. "We'll think of something in the morning."
Felix nodded and, without another word, marched into the bedroom Annette had selected and clicked the door shut.
Byleth let himself sag, exhaustion quickly taking hold over his whole body. The moisture clinging to the window had dampened his bangs, and he could see now in his fuzzy reflection that more of the strands had reverted back to their natural dark-blue color, creeping all the way up to his roots. More of Sothis being taken from him, he supposed.
He had to find a way to fix this, and fast. But to do that, he needed a fresh mind.
With a weak push off the windowsill, he plodded along the row of doors until he reached an empty room. His fingers grazed the brass handle—
Then he heard it.
A soft humming, a familiar melody drifting through the air. It was muffled, almost too quiet for his ears to pick up, but the effects were instant. The tension in his muscles quickly dissipated, the tightness in his throat cleared, and the queasiness that had been rumbling about in his stomach finally settled into something more bearable. It was just like that time in the monastery's cathedral, with Kana and his strange pendant…
Kana and his strange pendant.
His feet carried him down to Kana and Sophie's room with renewed energy. The song grew louder with every step. Without knocking—or even thinking, really—he shoved the door open.
"What's going—"
He cut himself off. Their window was open, allowing rain and wind to blow into the chamber, drenching the carpet, the furniture, and the siblings themselves, though they didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. Instead, they stared out the window, mouths agape, as the pendant Kana wore shone with a bright blue light that reflected off the water falling from the sky. And in that reflection…
A woman, framed by the gentle flow of long, light-blue hair, staring back at them.
Character Bios:
Gharnef: Sorcerer
—The Dark Pontifex whose sole desire is to resurrect Medeus, the Shadow Dragon, and to exact revenge on all of Archanea following his descent into madness caused by his use of the Darksphere. A selfish and malevolent man who was responsible for Emperor Hardin's transformation from a man of justice into a tyrannical ruler. Current whereabouts unknown.
—Wielder of the dark tome Imhullu
—Relations: Former student of Gotoh (deceased).
Marth: Lodestar
—The infamous Hero-King and descendant of Anri the Great. Known by all to be a kindhearted and noble man, he saved Altea and Archanea from certain doom on many different occasions before meeting his own untimely end at the hands of Gharnef's minions in 609.
—Wielder of the Archanean Falchion and (formerly) the Fire Emblem
—Relations: Son of Cornelius and Liza (both deceased). Brother of Elice. Fiancé of Caeda (deceased).
Owend and Penvo: Soldiers
—Two young, new recruits drafted into the Altean army to help fill the void left by the deaths of Archanea's heroes. They're not the best fighters, but they're doing their best.
Tiki: Manakete
—The princess of the Divine Dragon tribe. An innocent and curious girl who spent much of her life sleeping in the Ice Dragon Temple in order to keep her great but unstable powers in check. She was rescued by Marth after being brainwashed by Gharnef to do his bidding, and has held a fond attachment toward the Hero-King ever since. Current whereabouts unknown.
—Relations: Daughter of Naga (deceased). Ward of Bantu, Gotoh, and Xane (all deceased).
This outcome is based on the bad ending of New Mystery that you get if you don't collect all the spheres to complete the Fire Emblem. I've added my own twists to it, but the premise is fairly similar.
Also, fun fact: if enough named characters fall in battle in Shadow Dragon/New Mystery, you get replacement units to fill your barracks so the game doesn't become unbeatable. They come with random names like Penvo, and others that are more derogatory like Owend (alternate spelling of "Owned") and Auffle ("Awful")...as a way of making fun of the player for being so bad at the game, I suppose.
Next chapter: The water maiden tries to communicate with the living.