Amidst Assassins
The floorboards of the cramped room above the tavern ached with each step and shifting of a chair. Ike tensed every time. He had seen one ghost today, who knew what the run-down door might spit into the room next. He shifted to feel the weight of Ragnell against his shoulder blades, and the floor creaked so loudly even the Black Knight in Tellius had to have noticed. It was maddening. Almost as maddening as the four people with whom he shared this room.
Katarina had tugged her fire-spewing rage behind her folded hands and observed this strange gathering from her place on the bed. Lucina in particular, who sat on a chair next to Ike, caught her interest on a regular basis. Whether Katarina saw in her a potential victim for a game of Imperial Blockade or for her next fireball, Ike preferred not to think about.
The blonde woman with the icy glare perched on the clothing chest opposite of him, one leg propped up. Her quiver lay next to her. Every so often, she would check one of the arrows for imperfections. She had introduced herself as Clarisse, and if ever a woman had existed who had the word killer written in bolder letters on her face, Ike had yet to find her.
And lastly there was Soren. After over a year, he had waltzed back into Ike's war on his own two damned legs as if nothing had happened. At the moment, he was persuading his partners not to execute Ike and Lucina on the spot.
"Congrats," Clarisse said after Soren had finished. "I guess you're not part of the Black Fang after all."
"Thanks," Ike said dryly.
"You would have given us less trouble if the queen had worn a crown to identify herself. Isn't that what those are for?"
"I haven't come to Caelin for official business," Lucina said.
Clarisse huffed. "No one comes to Caelin period. Or so I had hoped. But after the tavern room downstairs exploded, we can expect more than a few unwanted eyes to look our way."
"I'm sorry," Katarina said and drummed her boots on the floor. With the sole purpose of tormenting Ike, no doubt. "My strategy had holes I didn't see at the time. I was so sure they were from the Black Fang once I saw the dagger."
"Regardless, the real Black Fang is going to know about this. We have to lay low for a while, cover our trails. Soren?"
Soren nodded. "I know the procedure."
"Good. That still leaves our two guests." Clarisse's eyes narrowed even further. "What are the queen of Altea and an ex-rebel doing here at the end of the world?"
"How about you do some explaining for a change?" Ike asked. "Or better yet, how about Soren explains what in the name of the Black Knight he is doing here. I took you for dead! I thought you limped into some frozen ditch and never got out again. You deserted. You quit us! And now you're all comfy with those two freaks like it's the most normal thing in the world. Is this what you meant when you said you wanted to walk away from my war? I even kept your damn spell book, you—"
Katarina jumped from the bed, and fire licked around her fingers. "If you want to conscript Soren back into the army, you have to go through us first."
"There will be no need, Katarina. I have no intention to rejoin any army." Soren raised a hand, and the little pyromaniac actually sat down. "It is good to see you too, Ike."
"Save it. The dead don't speak."
"That's enough. You can settle this later." Lucina turned towards Clarisse. "You said you are wary of the Black Fang. Forgive me, but usually they aren't interested in small commissions like deserters… or people who cheat at a game of Imperial Blockade."
"I never cheat," Katarina said.
"Even the best players can't control how the dice roll. But a mage trained in subtle uses of wind magic might."
"What kind of player would I be if I had to rely on magic to win?" Katarina plucked a lose thread from her scarf. "I only did it once. Only once! I wanted to see your faces when I destroyed those merchants. I didn't think you would notice the magic lines…"
Soren sighed. "We talked about this, Katarina."
"I was winning anyway. In a maximum of three moves, I would have crushed their blockades. Anticipating the moves of opposing players and adapting your strategy is simple enough if you know the patterns. I just… wanted to win with extra flair."
"Regardless of that," Clarisse said, "it's true the Black Fang doesn't take commissions with bounties as low as the standard for deserters. But when it comes to their own deserters, they aren't as stingy."
Ike exchanged a glance with Lucina. What had they gotten themselves into this time?
"You used to work for the Black Fang?" Lucina asked.
"Me and Katarina," Clarisse said. "Work was good for a while. A few bastards and a few good people died, but against any war, we didn't leave a dent in the grand scheme of things. But we were skilled. Some of us were really skilled. And for Ursula, that was reason enough to step out of the shadows and onto the big stage."
"That does sound like her."
"You've met her? Well, congrats for surviving. She loves plans and plans inside other plans – the more intricate, the better. It was a while back when she approached me with one of her grand designs. A mission without commission. No one would have paid us for the job. I refused. And if there's one thing you should know about Ursula, it's that you don't just refuse her. She gave the job to someone else and let me stay with the guild for a couple years. But she was only waiting for an excuse to get rid of me."
"An accident with a fire would have fit right into her strategic profile," Katarina added.
"But since she had a reputation to lose with the other members, she had to wait or risk an uprising. Believe it or not, but even assassins don't like being assassinated. Ursula used the years to gather new recruits, including Katarina."
"I was so blinded by her magic talents." Katarina wistfully twirled a handful of fire strings between her fingers. "I wanted to learn everything she knew."
"When Ursula thought she had spun Katarina tightly enough into her net, she ordered her to get rid of me. Make it look like an accident, or even a fallout between two rival assassins. Occupational hazard."
Ike huffed. "The type of business anyone would love to work in."
"It pays well enough," Clarisse said. "But in the end, Katarina decided against Ursula. She revealed herself to me, and together we bailed out. So far, Ursula hasn't tracked us down. But I wouldn't bet a single arrow on her having forgotten. Which is why the mess in the tavern downstairs bodes well for none of us."
Katarina threw an embarrassed look at the floorboards, but it didn't last long. "Now it's your turn to explain," she said. "Why did you come to Caelin?"
Lucina shifted on her chair. Her foot brushed the saddlebag with the Binding Shield. And if Ike had noticed, one of the others likely had too.
"King Rath asked us to investigate the firewall," Lucina said. "We are, however, short on clues to follow, and the Black Fang is after us as well. The only lead we have…"
She paused and looked up to Ike. He shook his head. Soren aside, they were dealing with former assassins, assassins who had admitted their ties to the Black Fang. The two spheres in the saddlebag might suffice as motivation for Clarisse or Katarina to whet their old daggers. Even if they had less bloodthirsty intentions, they were the weak link. The Black Fang could learn about Lucina's plan to reach the dragon from them – in one way or another. Katarina didn't look like she would make it long in a torture cell.
The less said the better. But Lucina disregarded Ike's advice.
"The only lead we have," she continued, "points us to the dragon said to sleep in the mountains nearby. I reckon you have heard of it?"
"It is a popular story in these lands," Soren said. "For mages in particular. To think that a dragon still exists in these times, a dragon born from magic no less, is exiting. However, I fear that killing this creature will do little to end the scourge of the fire."
"Then you know who is responsible?"
"I recognize Ursula's magic fingerprints when I see them," Katarina said. "I don't think she is controlling the fire itself, it's not her style. But everything else, the grand scale, the fact that she brought the leaders of two kingdoms onto the scene – it fits her."
Ike risked a look at the balcony door. The firewall didn't taint the sky in orange yet, but it was only a matter of time. "Great," he said. "So all we have to do is find Ursula and cut off her head to end this. Except she's good enough to infiltrate the marquess' household and kill him at the dinner table. Meaning we could comb all of Sacae and still not find her."
"We can just make guesses, but the Black Fang has an old hideout south of Ostia." Clarisse tugged at one of her arrowheads, tested its firmness. "Or they used to have one anyway. A tower in the middle of the grassland. The tribes avoid it. The fire started spreading from around there too."
"Well, that's awfully handy," Ike said. "And why would you tell us any of that?"
Clarisse narrowed her eyes. The killer had returned. "I hate the Black Fang. I hate Ursula. If someone cut off her head, they would be my new best friend. So, if the queen of Altea and an ex-rebel are volunteering, why should I say no?"
"The fire poses a threat to all people of Sacae, including those who live here in Caelin," Soren said. "The worst signs have yet to manifest, but should the fire spread further, it would spell disaster to the livelihoods of farmers. They, and we, would be grateful if someone were to act."
"Yeah. Someone."
"Ike, it's okay." Lucina stood up, and immediately the tension in the room shifted. She still had that power, that spell-binding aura where every word of hers outvalued treasures but seemed forged for you and you alone. "I cannot make you any promises. The dragon in the mountains is of importance for reasons beyond the firewall." She showed her palms and the developing scab on her cuts. "My crown and my title don't make me all-powerful. I have been reminded of that… all too recently. If I can, I will spare Caelin the scourge of the firewall. But I cannot give it my all. Not now."
Clarisse found her words the fastest, but even she swallowed on Lucina's speech. "Well, give it some thought. You and your friend can have Soren's room for the night. Right the next door. But by dawn, I want you gone. Whether you go after the dragon or the Black Fang is your business."
"Thank you," Lucina said and walked towards the door.
Ike followed but threw a look back at Soren. The limp, the worry lines in his face, the aimlessness of a burning monastery's sole survivor; all gone. For a moment he held Ike's gaze. But then Katarina set up her blockade board on the table in front of Soren, and the moment ended.
With an inward curse, Ike followed Lucina into the room next door.
Save for Soren's spell book collection on the table, this broom closet of a room matched its neighbor down to the creaking floorboards. Lucina sat down on the bed and pulled her saddlebag onto her lap. She had hidden her exhaustion so far, but now her shoulders collapsed under their own weight.
Ike wanted to let her rest. Would Frederick have let her sleep? No doubt. But a question burned on his tongue, and he couldn't swallow it no matter how hard he tried.
"So we aren't going after Ursula?" he asked.
Lucina had pulled the cloth from the Binding Shield. Her fingers traced along the three empty molds. "Naga told us… told me to unite the spheres. With the dragon, we will find one of them. The Black Fang is nothing but a distraction."
"And the promise we both made Rath?"
"The firewall threatens Sacea. But Grima threatens all of Archanea, and only the spheres will stop him."
"Is that why you took the shield with you without saying anything? Was that the order you gave Cherche?"
"What order? I don't remember what I said when we talked…"
"Oh come on, don't play dumb with me. It must have gone something like this: 'Forget Rath, I have this neat stone from my goddess that I absolutely need with me as soon as its ready.' Is that ringing any bells?"
"I don't remember what I said!" Lucina rarely, and a week ago Ike would have betted on never, raised her voice without purpose. It shocked both of them.
She started back and rubbed her arms, even though the stuffy room was anything but cold. "I don't… I'm not myself today."
Ike ground his teeth and glared at the balcony door, but the wood denied him the view of Caelin's sandy avenue. Rath didn't have a limp arm and a hole in his side because of Lucina. That honor belonged at least in part to Ike. He had let that mage distract him, hadn't even tried to see the full picture. Where he couldn't even keep track of a single marketplace, she had all of Archanea on her mind. Knowing all this, he still didn't understand.
"Don't you want to see Ursula pay for what she did to Frederick?" Ike asked.
Lucina looked up at him. "I want nothing more. But it would be wrong."
"How can it be wrong?"
"I don't know. I never know, and that's why I need the five credos and Naga to direct me. People can ask their kings and queens for guidance. A knight can ask his captain. But the only one I can ask is my faith. It's comforting. Like a ray of sunshine between the trees. Like shelter in a storm. A home when otherwise you're without a house and without a future. Have you never wanted to look at someone for guidance?"
"I have looked at you."
Lucina smiled. "And therein lies the problem, doesn't it?"
Ike had no response. This day had lasted for too long. He hadn't slept since yesterday morning, and he was getting unreasonable. Who was he to argue with Lucina? He had agreed to help her with the spheres, no matter how much he would love to crush the heads of one or two or a dozen Black Fang assassins. Enervated, he tossed Linus' dagger at the wall where it got stuck. Imagining the wooden panel as Linus' face brought little comfort.
"You should talk to Soren," Lucina said.
"I have nothing to say."
Again that smile, longing for the unobtainable. "You got him back. I'm glad for you."
Ike kneaded the bridge of his nose. "I will talk to him. Maybe after an hour of sleep I'll even come up with something for him that isn't a curse."
Considering that two assassins hung around in the room next door and an entire guild of them likely marched towards Caelin, Ike's sleep was surprisingly sound. The last sunrays struck the thatched roofs on the other side of the street when he rightened himself. The village would see a clear night sky without the taste of ash. A short reprieve.
Lucina was still sleeping. She pressed the Binding Shield to her chest, and Falchion lay on the sheets next to her, inches from her fingers. Ike had spent too many nights during the rebellion in the same position. Even behind the safe walls of the Glass Fortress, Ragnell had never wandered farther away than his bed post. A golden memorial. Or a weighty curse.
They had moved on from the rebel life, they were supposed to be at peace.
What a joke.
Nothing had changed. Lucina still crumbled under the title of Naga's champion, she still slept with a sword in her hand, and Ike had managed to maneuver himself even farther away from Tellius. The Black Knight still carried the blood of Ike's father on his armored hands, undisturbed. A black armored hand reaching out…
The gold face of the Binding Shield reflected a sliver of the dying sun. Maybe with the power of the spheres, Ike could stand his ground against the Black Knight. His sword training had amounted to so little; he hadn't even won his fights against Roy. Hadn't the Black Knight said he united the power of gods in himself? Surely those dumb spheres with goddess-given powers could match him.
Ike forced himself to breathe and tore his eyes from the Binding Shield. Stupid fantasies. The smell of rotting wood and horse fur tingled in his nose, not spruce needles. And it would stay that way. For her sake.
He could never replace Frederick, but he could help her in his own small way. With that thought, the spruce needles tasted less bitter.
He resisted the urge to brush a loose strand of indigo hair out of Lucina's face and stepped onto the balcony.
Caelin prepared itself for the night. The last merchants, now with lighter pouches thanks to Katarina's winning streak at the tavern, rolled up their carpets and exotic spices and trudged along the road towards the stud farm. They would have better luck looking for a room to spend the night there.
Wood creaked, and the door to the assassins' room swung open. Soren stepped out. He didn't falter once in his walk as he joined Ike by the balcony railing. Neither spoke, and the shadows grew longer. Lucina's advice rung in Ike's ears. Damn it, why did she always have to be right?
"How long has it been?" Ike didn't look at Soren.
"Nineteen months, give or take."
"Long time."
"Indeed." Soren controlled his voice with unnerving calm, but at his next words, he faltered for maybe a heartbeat. "Although I still have not found the time to read the book I always annoyed you with. Do you remember?"
"Gotoh's Compendium, yeah."
In the upper story opposite of the tavern, someone had left open a window. The curtains, decorated with the wild colorful stitches of a child swung back and forth. Back and forth.
"Sorry about what I said to you back there." Ike still avoided Soren's gaze. "It's good to see you. Really."
"Would you believe me when I say that I considered to return the moment I stepped out of the palace gate? I have considered countless times." Soren sighed. "You seem to be faring well without me. It is relieving, to say the least."
"I survived. Most of our men in Thria didn't. Guess you got out at just the right time."
"I… was not aware. I merely heard that Lucina split the Pheraen Empire and rebuilt the throne of Altea for herself. A handful of merchants passing through Caelin have praised the splendor of the new Glass Fortress."
"You could have stopped by. At least once."
"I feared that if I had, I would not have left again." Soren smiled to the rooftops of Caelin. "You do have that power over me."
Ike squirmed and scratched splinters from the railing, as though somewhere in the wood hid a harmless answer to continue this conversation.
"I see you found a way to fix your leg," he said after a while.
"Not quite. I have merely adapted my strategy to my circumstances." With another smile, Soren held up his palm, and a wind picked up Ike's splinters. In a miniature tornado, the pieces swirled above Soren's hand. "I use wind magic to stabilize my leg. You may not call this walking in the traditional sense; it has more in common with subtle gliding. But it has made the pain more bearable. Katarina has invented the technique. In the first months, I required her assistance wherever I went. Thankfully I can now at least fake to be standing on my own two feet."
"Are you trying to tell me the little pyromaniac has been good for something other than robbing dice players of their gold?"
"Her knowledge about the magic arts is quite astounding. All the more if one considers her limited access to written study materials. I cannot say what would have become of me without her."
"So you and her…?"
"Not like that, Ike." Soren sent the splinters out to scatter over the road. "My feelings have proven rather stubborn in their inability to change. Despite the hopelessness of it all."
Ike swallowed. "But this is what you want, right? To hang out with your two assassin friends and live life far away from the battlefield and whatever next ploy threatens to destroy Archanea. Because if you don't, I… we could use your help. Against the dragon and all."
"I have made my choice. Katarina showed me that my magic can find use in countless other ways than the battlefield. The general public still carries their resentment against mages. There is a reason why the slur 'wizard' has yet to die out. Shinon is by far not the only one to use it. Perhaps with time, I can do my part in changing people's perception. But I will not do so from the battlefield."
"Okay, I get it, I won't ask you back." Ike watched as the last of the splinters drifted out of view. "But I got to admit, it's pretty handy to have magic that plucks a row of Pheraen morons right from their feet. Their faces were always priceless."
Soren chuckled. "I suppose they were. But regarding the point you made about living life away from conflict… You could have that too."
"Hardly. You know me, I wouldn't even know what to do with myself."
Soren's smile deepened. "A brick-headed simpleton never changes his ways."
Ike huffed. Maybe it was a laugh. "Exactly."
Lucina could not remember hearing Ike laugh. It was a wonderful sound. She shifted on the bed, leaned her head against the wall, closer to the balcony. By then the sound had already faded, and Ike and Soren continued their conversation. One day, soon, she would have to abandon that sound.
Give up all earthly attachments.
For Naga's champion, it should have been easy. Other people before her had succeeded in the fifth credo. Naga had given her a clear task and a clear warning. If she loved too deeply, she would lose sight of the goal, the spheres would never unite, and shadows would reign over Archanea. She had loved Frederick. And this attachment had convinced him to follow her on her journey, half a step behind, the same as when she had dragged him to Lycia's frozen moat. And for this, he had died.
Lucina reached into her pocket. Her fingers traced Frederick's ring. The edges still needed smoothing.
Ursula had to pay. She would burn. She would be torn apart, limb for limb. She would die, and Lucina would watch, and sitting here on a creaking bed with her eyes turned towards the wooden ceiling, she relished the thought.
Lucina slid the ring deeper into her pockets. In these fantasies, she walked in the shoes of a murderer; and how well these shoes fitted. It was abhorrent. She thought about revenge when her thoughts should belong to Naga.
All traces of longing for sleep had fallen off of her. The longer she stayed in this cramped room, the more vivid Ursula's envisioned death became. Linus' dagger still hung on the wall, and the Black Fang symbol on the hilt mocked Lucina. Assassins on her trail, assassins in the room next door, and assassins in her head, all with her own face. She was trapped, chained, and utterly unable to escape. The ray of sunshine between the trees, the shelter in the storm; she needed to find them.
Lucina girded Falchion, shouldered the saddlebag with the Binding Shield, and fled out of the room. The narrow staircase flew past, and so did the tavern room. Out on the road, she breathed again. The last shreds of lighter blue hung in the western sky. Otherwise night bathed the village.
Caelin didn't have a tower for Naga. The local farmers concerned themselves little with gods, and although Nagaism had once filled the hearts of people all the way to the fishing villages east of the mountains, Caelin's tower had to have fallen victim to needy hands looking for wood to repair their homes. But a small shelter, little more than wooden posts and a roof for travelers against rain, nestled under a stone pine near the village entrance. From there, the road climbed towards the snow-coated peak of King's Plight. Even at night, its dark shape loomed over Caelin.
Lucina knelt in front of the crooked bench at the shelter's back. Out of the saddlebag, she pulled a five-story candle. Its flame shed a little light against Grima's overwhelming darkness when she placed the candle on the bench.
She prayed for guidance. She prayed for a word to confirm that she still followed the right path. But Naga remained silent.
Instead, a rather earthly voice cut through the night behind Lucina. "Nagaism, huh?"
Lucina looked over her shoulder. Clarisse leaned against a wooden post by the entrance and twiddled her bowstring. If she had wanted to repay her debt to Ursula with Lucina's head, she could have let an arrow fly minutes ago.
"You followed me?" Lucina asked and banned all signs of unease from her face.
"Force of habit," Clarisse said. "I think you know why I did it."
"You mistrust me."
"It's not an offence to you personally. But I have a responsibility towards Katarina and Soren. I kept them safe so far, and I intend for it to stay that way. You said you're against the Black Fang, but you were running around with one of their daggers. That raises questions."
"I have been the target of their assassination attempts more than once now."
Clarisse huffed. "I can imagine. Royals have a habit of making enemies. And you have made a good number of them throughout your short career, from what I've heard. Still you're here to have this conversation with me. That raises its own string of questions. I hate Ursula and a lot of her drones. But if they know one thing, it's how to bring people to the pyre. Or six feet under, if you prefer. Would love to know who messed up with you."
"Lloyd was one of them."
"Of course that bastard still breathes." Clarisse twanged her bowstring. "I heard rumors he came to his senses and got out about two years ago. Guess the rumors were too good to be true."
"From what he told me, he has his own reasons to hate Ursula. I doubt all of what he said was a lie. But Ursula must have won him back at some point since. I just cannot think of a reason for him to rejoin the guild."
"I can give you a reason: He's in it for the sport. Killing people is what he's good at, so that's what he does. Been that way since he joined the guild. Stupidly young but already a dead noble on his resume when he was thirteen."
Thirteen – Lucina shuddered. Too young to throw himself into the mold of a killer. A mold near impossible to claw out of.
"He does enjoy a fighting challenge," Lucina allowed. "But I don't think that's all. Not with how much he despises Ursula."
Clarisse narrowed her eyes. A corner of her mouth twitched. "I can think of another reason. Lloyd cares about exactly two people in this world. Maybe just one."
"His brother? Linus?"
"Worse. It would explain a few things, really."
"Those being?"
"I'd rather not say. You already admitted you aren't in it to take action against the Black Fang. Although I don't get why. Aren't royals supposed to look after their people? A dead dragon here in the mountains helps no one."
The five-story candle flickered. Lucina cupped a hand, and the flame steadied.
"It isn't so simple," she said.
"We'll, it sounds simple enough to me. I'm looking after Katarina and Soren, and I avoid suicidal fights with dragons for their sake. When I ready my bow, I do it for their sake. Sure, you as queen operate on a different scale with the people you have to look after. But the principle's the same."
"And if the well-being of Soren and Katarina stood against one another?"
"That's a rather cruel thought, Your Highness."
"The Black Fang will hardly care what you find cruel."
Clarisse tugged at her bowstring. She took a while to answer. "I've known Katarina for longer. She would be my choice."
"Then can you still criticize me for mine?"
"I don't pretend to understand what sort of motivations a queen might have for running off into the mountains for some dragon hunting. Zealots have done crazier things for their religion, I suppose. Just wondering what your partner has to say about all this. Whether he signed up to carry out your war until the bitter end."
Lucina pushed her candle deeper into the windbreak of the shelter where it stopped flickering. A drop of wax burned her fingertips. Ike had no responsibility towards Naga. Lucina didn't dare to imagine, but maybe… maybe he went all this way for her sake. Give up all earthly attachments. Shouldn't she then push him away all the more? Before he paid the same price as Frederick? The same price so many had paid, Tiki, Gregor, even her father, all those years ago. All these chess pieces sacrificed to let Naga's champion advance. A champion who, even as she kneeled in front of Naga's candles, still doubted.
The road towards King's Plight stretched into the dimness. Lucina had the Binding Shield with her. She could follow the path and disappear into the night within a minute.
"Would you—" Lucina swallowed. "Would you keep Ike here?"
"Sure," Clarisse said, "if he can keep a low profile. Soren trusts him well enough, and he's supposed to be the reasonable one out of the three of us. But do you think Ike would want to stay?"
Lucina lowered her head. "No, he wouldn't."
"Then there's not much to discuss, is there?" Clarisse pushed herself from the post and slung her bow over her shoulder. "Not sure what you hope to get out of your prayers, but if you ask me, it can't beat a bowl of mushroom stew and a good night of sleep. Remember, I want you gone by dawn. Good fortune for the hunt."
On soundless soles, Clarisse melted back into the darkness.
Lucina huddled in front of her candle for a while longer, but even after the second upper story had burned down, Naga shared no words of guidance with her. And when she blew out the candle, the road and she herself were left behind in shadows.
Notes: It's good to be back on the Thursday update schedule with these. Hopefully I will manage to stick to it in the weeks to come. I think this chapter illustrates quite well how I have become more reliant on dialogue scenes to do characterization, and I like to think the quality of the dialogue has improved since I started Book I. But you be the judge of that.
A special thank you goes out to Dracofighter. This site still won't allow me to reply to guest comments, but know that your continued support is dearly appreciated. This should go without saying, but comments of all kind - praise, questions, critique - make my day.
In the next chapter, Ike and Lucina will set out for a classical dragon hunt, but not without a warning from a very particular apparition.