Chapter 7: Cog of Destiny           Chapter 9: Sands of Time

 

This chapter is incredibly long. I blame NaNoWriMo. I would like to thank the Aldnoah.Zero OST for helping with the Karel vs. Lloyd duel which took way too many days to resolve, Dark Pit for helping with Eliwood’s passage of the maze, and You Will Know Our Names for helping with Eliwood’s battle with Georg. I have nearly two other chapters ready as well; in fact, if you’re reading this the same day I publish it, you’ve probably already clicked back to here from those new chapters. : P

Did I mention this chapter is INCREDIBLY LONG?

 

Chapter 8: The Berserker and Valourous Roland

 

A heavy clang echoed across the valley as Lloyd and Karel’s katanas met. It looked like they had used the same type of attack at the same time. The blades locked for a moment, then they sprang away from each other, whirling, Karel’s robe and Lloyd’s longcoat swirling behind them.

Ceniro found himself holding his breath. This was a dazzling show of skill; it was too tragic that it would inevitably end in Lloyd’s death. Lloyd himself seemed to know that, from what he had said to Nino.

There wasn’t any way for him to stop it now. Karel would fight until one or the other of them died, and he suspected Lloyd would do the same. And if Karel fell and not Lloyd, then one by one the members of Eliwood’s group would step forward until Lloyd did fall. But watching him… Ceniro wondered if there was anyone else who could even come close to matching him.

The valley was silent except for the two flashing swords and the light footsteps of their swordsmen.

They charged at each other again, Karel’s long dark hair streaming behind him like a comet’s tail, but this time both fighters gave a grunt of pain. Nino gasped.

They both paused and turned to each other. Lloyd was clutching his shoulder, where his leather coat had been sliced through – but Karel had a hand pressed to his chest, which was trickling blood from a long slice.

Both men looked down at their wounds, catching their breath, then looked up at each other and smiled. It was the smile of those who had forgotten everything except the rush of battle. Ceniro shivered. He had seen that smile a few times in his life, and it never boded well for anyone involved.

When they charged again, they were even faster than before. Circling each other, sparks flying from their swords, they were entirely lost to the outside world. They seemed to be evenly matched; it was whoever made the first mistake who would lose. Even their newly-acquired scratches didn’t seem to affect them at all.

“What is he?” Lyn murmured. “He’s definitely not Sacaean… but he moves exactly like one.”

They lunged at each other again. This wasn’t an easy fight for either of them; Lloyd was certainly making Karel work for it. Sweat was dripping down the White Wolf’s face, and he was panting heavily, but Karel wasn’t looking altogether as composed as he had been, and his dark hair was beginning to fall into his face.

It seemed like ages they stood and watched, the katanas humming through the air, neither gaining any strikes on the other. Ceniro wondered what was going through their minds, if they were truly entirely lost in the skill and rhythm of the fight, or if they were thinking about other things. If Lloyd was thinking about his brother, still – or Nino. If Karel really had an unstoppable bloodlust that cared for nothing besides winning.

No, he decided again, it was too late for all of that.

There was another blur of movement, and this one did not end in a clang. Nino gasped.

Karel’s Wo Dao dripped with blood, and Lloyd was clutching his stomach. The Black Fang leader fell to one knee, propped up on his sword.

“Lloyd!” Nino cried, agonized.

Lloyd raised his head and smiled at her, a warm, brotherly smile. Then he turned to Karel. “…Well…? …Finish me.”

There was a blur like a striking snake, and Karel did so.

Nino sobbed.

Eliwood leaned on his rapier heavily. “I wish… things had been otherwise…”

“I still don’t understand,” Lyn said. “Why did he think we killed his brother?”

“Nergal’s agents must have gotten to Linus first,” Hector said grimly. “We did destroy most of that guy’s guard first. Even though he himself was a great fighter… he could have been taken by surprise. He seemed less cautious than this guy here.”

Lyn nodded. “That makes sense.” She looked up at the shrine that cast welcome shade over them. “We can’t worry about that much now. What’s done is done. What now?”

“I guess we go inside?” Eliwood said, glancing at Ceniro for confirmation.

“That would be a good idea, but I don’t see a door…” Ceniro said slowly, looking from the farseer to the building and back again.

“I will take you inside,” said a new voice, and they turned to see Athos standing there.

Lyn blinked. “When did you get here?”

“Just now,” Athos said. “I warped in after I saw you had successfully arrived.”

“Why didn’t you just warp us all in?” Hector grumbled, half under his breath – Ceniro wondered if it was his attempt to not be rude to a very powerful man over a thousand years old.

Athos spread his hands. “What would that have accomplished? You may have the knowledge of Nergal’s plots, but do you have the willpower, the inner strength, to actually stop him? It is not lightly that I would ask my colleague to release the ancient weapons to you. Now we must go to meet him – underground.”

“Who are we meeting, sir?” Eliwood asked.

“His name is Bramimond. You will know him as one of the Eight Legends. Only he and I remain of their number…”

“And these weapons…” Ceniro began.

“They are the ones we, the Eight, used to defeat the dragons. They are sealed each in their own lands across the continent, and only Bramimond is able to remove the seals. First, however, I have a gift for you.” He reached out and presented Eliwood with a Heaven’s Seal.

Eliwood received it. “Thank you very much, sir!” He turned to Ceniro. “It’s a third one! You said something about waiting for a third one.”

“Oh, right,” Ceniro said, digging in his pockets. He found the other two and gave them to Lyn and Hector. “I’m not sure how you use those, but… use them now.”

“A very good idea,” Athos said. “All you must do is take it in your hands and focus on it.”

Lyn squeaked: her Heaven’s Seal was glowing with bright white light. It spread, and she vanished from view behind it. Eliwood and Hector followed suit.

When Ceniro could see his friends again, they looked similar, but… stronger, somehow. Physically they were unchanged, but their eyes sparkled with an inner determination, they stood straighter, and they almost seemed to glow.

“Wow,” Eliwood said.

“You look different, Hector,” Lyn said.

“You don’t,” Hector teased. “Seriously, Ceniro, how do we look?”

“Like you could all take on Karel with one hand,” Ceniro said, smiling.

Hector grinned and flexed. “Heh. I feel like a beast.”

“You kind of are,” Lyn sniffed. “But I feel like I could cross Sacae running non-stop.”

“I feel… I feel great,” Eliwood said, and chuckled, looking down at his hands.

“All right!” Hector gave him a high-five. “Nothing can stop us now!”

Athos beckoned. “This power is your birthright, unlocked through the seals. You will need it to claim the Legendary Weapons. Come. You have proven yourselves worthy.” He beckoned to Lyn, Eliwood, and Hector, but Eliwood took Ceniro’s arm.

“Our tactician should come, too.”

“It’s all right,” Ceniro said. “I’d just get in the way. I’ll make sure the army is patching itself up…?”

Eliwood shook his head. “Marcus can do that. I’m not leaving you out of this now. Come with us.”

“Young Ceniro may come as well,” Athos said, and raised his hand.

After a flash of light, they were left in complete darkness. After a moment, Ceniro saw a white-haired, white-bearded face – Athos. The archsage’s staff gently illuminated their immediate vicinity. Ceniro could see the other three, faintly.

“So creepy,” Hector muttered.

There was a rustling. The young people froze, hands inching towards weapons.

Eliwood stiffened and turned suddenly, and was face-to-face with an almost invisible person of indeterminate gender, cloaked in a black robe with a hood. “…You must be Bramimond.”

“That is a name connected to me,” the figure said non-committally. “What do you want of me?”

Lyn stepped forward, both shy and forthright. “We… seek a favour of you. We need weapons to defeat Nergal…”

“I cannot grant that favour,” Bramimond said, his voice ethereal in the darkness. “Humanity would suffer greatly if I were to release the seals.”

“Humanity is going to suffer greatly anyway!” Hector cried, stepping in front of Lyn. “He’s going to destroy the whole world if we don’t stop him! Give us this power!” At Eliwood’s look, he added: “…Please.”

“The whole world?” Bramimond said sharply, his voice suddenly deeper. “Why should I care about that? It can burn for all the good the weapons will do it!”

“I don’t understand,” Eliwood said, calm and reasonable. “Lord Athos said that these weapons were our only hope to defeat Nergal, to stop him from releasing dragons back into our world. Surely you would not want your victory a thousand years ago to be wasted…”

“You are correct that you do not understand,” Bramimond said, abruptly serene. “You do not know what I know about these weapons.”

“Your voice…” Ceniro said. “It keeps changing…”

“But you mentioned Athos.”

“I am here, old friend,” Athos said, finally stepping forward to join the others. “And I am glad you remember me. Yes, Bramimond has no true self. He… it… has as many personalities as there are people facing him.”

“I cannot fathom why you would bring these people here,” Bramimond said, and turned away into the blackness. “Have you forgotten? These weapons are not meant for mortal hands. That is why I sealed them away.”

“May I ask a question?” Ceniro piped up.

“Ask,” Athos answered for Bramimond.

“Why were modern humans able to find the Staff of Saint Elimine?”

Bramimond paused and half glanced at him. “…It is not a weapon.”

“I see. Thank you.”

“Please,” Eliwood said. “We can’t do this on our own. Even if these weapons kill us… we have to save the rest of the people in the world.”

Bramimond did not reply.

“Bramimond, remember… We, too, are human,” Athos said. “These people, they will not be seduced by power. They came here without my aid, using their own abilities. You observed them, did you not?”

“I did,” Bramimond said. “It is true, they seem more pure, more idealistic than most humans. Stronger, too. But humans are frail, in body and mind. What guarantee do I have that they will not succumb to that frailty, Athos??”

Eliwood bowed his head and answered before Athos could. “There is no guarantee. You will have to believe in us… as we believe in ourselves.”

Bramimond turned back to him and studied him for a long time. Eliwood met the unseen gaze, unmoving.

“Once there was a man much like you,” the shadow said eventually. “His gaze never wavered, but always looked towards his goal.” He paused, and some kind of ripple seemed to radiate outwards from him, unseen, unheard, but Ceniro could feel it brush past him and it ruffled their hair and cloaks.

“I am tired now,” Bramimond said. “Leave me to rest. Take your pick of the weapons. Farewell.” He vanished back into the darkness, and Athos immediately warped them back to the sunset-drenched field below the shrine. Ninian, Nils, and several of the knights were waiting for them, and smiled to see them back. Nino and Jaffar were not there.

Lyn fell to her knees, burying her fingers in the grass. “Oh, the sweet wind…”

“Man, it’s good to be outside after that,” Hector said, throwing his head back and sniffing the wind himself.

“He’s very mysterious,” Eliwood said to Athos. “I wish we could know him better. But what convinced him to release the seals? Surely it wasn’t me or my words…”

Athos paused. “I do not know for certain. But I believe… he looked out again, and saw Nergal’s true aura – an impenetrable, unnatural darkness, a warping of Elder Magic. But now we must hurry. Nergal will have sensed the breaking of the seals, and he will contest us for the weapons-”

“You’re already too late,” said a grim voice from the side of the shrine, and they turned to see Nergal glaring down at them.

“You-!” Eliwood cried, his sword appearing in his hand. Only Athos’s warning gesture prevented him from leaping at the dark-robed figure.

Hector slowly unhooked his axe from his side, and Lyn rose, her own sword in her hand. The knights followed suit and stood ready to act, looking to Ceniro for orders. Ceniro stood powerless, since without the legendary weapons, attack was suicide. But if Nergal decided to just wipe them out here and now…

They had escaped him before, without legendary weapons, and they could escape him again. But last time, Lord Elbert had died for them. Who would make the sacrifice this time?

“My power is restored,” Nergal said quietly. “The unsealing of the Legendary Weapons means nothing to either of us. Ninian! Nils! Come to me and open the Dragon’s Gate.”

“No!” Ninian cried, clinging to her brother.

“Never!” Nils shouted, holding his sister protectively.

“Would you like me to demonstrate my power here and now?” Nergal growled, lifting his hand.

“You mustn’t go!” Eliwood shouted, moving in front of both of them. “Run, both of you! We’ll hold him off…” Unspoken was the knowledge that Nergal could teleport as well as Athos could, and Ninian and Nils would not run far before they were caught again – and the rest of the army utterly destroyed.

“Wait!” Ninian cried, stepping forward and laying a hand on Eliwood’s arm. But she spoke to Nergal. “I-if… If I go with you, will you let my brother go?”

“Ninian! Don’t!” Nils begged, taking her hand. She didn’t turn her eyes away from Nergal.

Ceniro pressed the back of his hand against his mouth. She was making the sacrifice play for all of them – but wasn’t she also giving Nergal exactly what he needed? If they lived now, would they even live long enough to acquire a weapon, any weapon, and make it back to Nergal to save her before the dragons came?

Nergal nodded. “One of you should be enough. Come here.”

“Ninian,” Nils said, on the verge of tears. “No! Why?”

She turned to him and embraced him. “Look after Lord Eliwood for me.” There was a flash of light between them, so bright Ceniro had to look away.

The next thing he saw was Ninian backing away from them all, towards Nergal. Her eyes were fixed on Eliwood, who was staring back helplessly, his sword loose in his hand.

Then Eliwood dropped his sword, lunged forward, and kissed Ninian full on the mouth. He murmured something to her, something that sounded like “Don’t go…” and she shook her head.

“I detest long goodbyes,” Nergal said, and stepped forward, seizing Ninian’s arm.

Eliwood’s face instantly collapsed into rage. “Hold still!” He swept up his rapier back into his hand again and brought it up to attack. “Demon!”

“No, get down!” Athos shouted, although his words were largely futile – Hector was running forward, Lyn was running forward, the knights were running forward… Nils was running forward…

The ground shook and something like an explosion knocked them all backwards…

 

 

Ceniro slowly came to. He was lying on a small bed by a white-washed wooden wall. He wiggled his toes, enjoying the feeling of not having boots on.

Louise and Erk’s anxious faces appeared above him, and the memories of the shrine slammed into him like a runaway cart. “Where’s-”

“Lord Eliwood is alive, but still unconscious,” Erk said, balancing a staff on his shoulder. “The others who were hit by the blast are in various states of recovery. It was fortunate that Lord Athos was there to shield you all.”

Ceniro sat up and put a hand to his head. “Yes, yes it was. Ninian’s really gone?”

Their faces grew longer. “Yes,” Louise said. “We searched for her, for a short time, even though Lord Athos said it was futile. But I fear she is on her own for now. Eliwood will be upset when he wakes.”

“Yeah,” Ceniro said, rubbing his head. “Yeah.” He looked at both of them. “How much time do we have, does anyone know?”

“Before Nergal completes… whatever he’s doing?” Erk asked. “No one knows. But I think Lord Athos has a plan of some kind.”

“We need it,” came Lyn’s voice, and Ceniro looked up to see her. She had a bruise on her cheek, covered in dirt and blood, and she looked tired and unhappy, despite her Heaven’s Seal-granted power boost. “Neither Hector nor I know what to do, and I’m sure Eliwood doesn’t know either. We don’t know where these weapons are, or what they are, or what they can do.” She looked at Louise. “I’m sure Lord Pent knows something, but he’s still talking with Athos in Eliwood’s room.”

“So for now, you should rest,” Louise said gently. “When the mages start talking about arcane unintelligible things, sometimes that’s the best thing you can do. Come sit with us, you’ve had a long day.”

Lyn smiled wanly. “We all have. And we need to start marching back out again, soon, too. And first we need to bury the bodies of the Black Fang so that King Desmond finds no trace of us.”

“I think Miss Nino was already working on that with some people,” Erk said. “What exactly are you speaking of with these weapons?”

Lyn sat down on the edge of Ceniro’s bed and ran a hand through her tangled ponytail. “The weapons wielded by the Eight Legends… we’re going to find them to use against Nergal.”

“Do we have time to do that?” Erk asked.

“That’s what we want to know,” Ceniro mumbled anxiously. “But I’m worried about what Bramimond said. Just how dangerous are these weapons? I thought they were… well, you know, powerful enough to kill dragons, but they’re still just weapons, right?”

“That’s a good question,” Erk said. “Let me think… The Legendary spells undoubtedly cause collateral damage of some kind. Forblaze, Aureola… legendary magic power is not easily controlled.”

“I can see that you, Lady Lyn, and Eliwood and Hector are being set up to take a weapon each,” Louise said. “Lord Athos trusts you, so you must be strong enough to control it.”

Lyn smiled. “That’s encouraging. Oh, but Louise, it’s just Lyn, remember?”

Louise blushed. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”

Ceniro pushed the blanket off and turned to sit on the edge of the bed next to Lyn. “Well, I’m feeling better from the bump Nergal gave us… Where exactly are we?”

“We’re actually in a village not far from the Shrine,” Erk said.

Ceniro reached for his pack and pulled out the farseer. “Yes, I see. I didn’t know anyone still lived so close.”

“I don’t think they know what it is,” Louise said in a low voice. “After what I’ve heard of Bern’s policy in the area, I doubt they’d be let to live if they knew. I hope they will be safe after we leave. But… with you and Eliwood in such bad shape, we had no choice…”

“Shall we check on Eliwood?” Ceniro asked Lyn.

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” She stood and gestured for him to follow her.

“I’ll see you later,” Ceniro said to Erk and Louise, and they nodded to him.

Eliwood’s face was deathly pale against the white of his pillow. But even as Ceniro entered the room, he stirred, his blue eyes flickering open. They came to rest on Hector, sitting beside him. “W-where…”

“Some village,” Hector said. He, too, looked beat up. “You’ve been knocked out for a bit by Nergal’s parting gift. You and most of us standing close by.” He looked up at Lyn and Ceniro. “Good to see you two up. Is Nils up yet?”

“I don’t know,” Lyn said. “I’ll check quickly.”

Eliwood was trying to sit up. Hector helped him. “His power… it’s so much more than before,” he croaked.

“Yeah, if Athos hadn’t put up a barrier when he did, we’d have been goners for sure,” Hector answered.

Athos and Pent had been speaking quietly at the foot of his bed, and now Athos turned to him. “If Nergal truly wished to kill you, not even my power could have saved you.”

Hector snorted bitterly. “What, was he feeling generous today or something?”

“Ninian…” Eliwood murmured.

Lyn entered again. “He’s still sleeping. Lucius and Priscilla are with him.”

“That’s good,” Eliwood said.

Athos came around the bed closer to Eliwood. “If you truly wish to save the girl, you must find at least one of the Legendary Weapons. Even as you are, you can’t defeat him with strength of heart alone.”

“I understand,” Eliwood said after a moment. “Where do we find them?”

“Westward,” Athos said. “However, I understand that first you must get away from this shrine.”

“We can do that heading west,” Ceniro said. “As long as we’re more than a day’s travel away by tomorrow’s end. I think I know a good destination from here.”

“You can lead us, then,” Hector said. “Hey, you need a power-up of some kind if you’re going to lead us.”

“No, I don’t,” Ceniro said. “I don’t need to lead, I just need to tell you where to go.”

“Besides, he has his enormous brain,” Lyn said, wrapping an arm around his neck.

Eliwood smiled slowly.

“You, in fact, will be coming with me,” Athos said to Hector.

“What? Why?” Hector barked in surprise. “Am I in trouble?”

“Yes,” Lyn said.

“Shush, woman,” Hector told her.

“You are not in trouble,” Athos said calmly. “But I will send the rest of your group in search of a sword, for either Eliwood or Lyndis, and take you in search of something suitable for you – the axe Armads, once wielded by the berserker Durban. It rests in the Western Isles. Have no fear, you will be reunited with your friends before anything… interesting happens, if all goes well.”

“And if not, the two of you will be enough to take care of things, right?” Hector said to Eliwood and Lyn.

“We’ll do our best,” Eliwood said. “Is there not time to gather a third weapon? I could use a lance, probably, and Lyndis is good with a bow, once we figure out which one of us will use the sword.”

“After Hector gains Armads, I will return him to you and then attempt to gather some more useful items,” Athos said. “I do not think there is time to gain a third Legendary Weapon, but I think I can find a second sword.”

Lyn smiled. “That sounds fine. You can have the Legendary sword, Eliwood. As long as I can lift it, I’ll stab Nergal’s black heart with my .”

Eliwood sat up straighter. “It’s settled, then. We shall set out once Nils is well enough to travel, and head west following Ceniro’s directions.”

 

The weather was wet again the next day, but they plodded on with all the speed they could make. Hector seemed bothered by something, but when Ceniro asked, he shrugged it off. When Ceniro asked Matthew about it, he received the not-quite-unexpected answer a couple hours later that “Lord Hector is concerned about his brother”. Eliwood and Lyn seemed to not have noticed, so Ceniro kept it to himself. If Hector really was worried about his brother, he was probably hiding it from them for a reason, and Ceniro would do the same. Even now he was starting to feel guilty that he knew.

After breakfast the day after, Hector came to him. “So we’re heading out in a few minutes.”

“So soon?” Ceniro asked in surprise. “I thought you’d come back to Lycia with us.”

“Well, apparently not, I guess. Hey, take care of the others for me, okay? Especially Eliwood. He tends to take things on himself and not tell anyone about them.”

Ceniro nodded slowly. “Yes, I will do that.”

“Right, then. I’ll see you in a couple days, it seems.”

“Hector… wait!” Ceniro jogged after the taller man until he turned around again. “I… take this.” He reached out and gave Hector the farseer.

Hector’s eyes went wide. “What? You’re really letting me borrow that?”

“Yeah. I can manage without it. And if you’re going alone, I… I figure you can use every edge you can get.”

“Seriously. Thanks. I’ll make it up to you sometime.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ceniro said awkwardly. “Just come back in one piece. Have you said goodbye to the others yet?”

Hector slipped the farseer safely into his belt bag. “Just about to. Thanks. This will be an enormous help. …Though it might take me a bit to figure out.”

“I’m sure you can handle it,” Ceniro said, smiling. “I doubt its influence will reach from the Western Isles to here, so you won’t be distracted by us through it. You’ll be fine.”

Hector mock-saluted him and headed off in Lyn’s direction.

He and Athos left quietly a few minutes later. The main group continued marching towards Ostia, as Athos had told them to head to a particular region near the edge of Ostia, up against the mountains on the Lycian-Etrurian border. It would take them several days to get there.

Nils was quiet, and Lyn fretted quietly over him from next to Ceniro. “I don’t know whether to make sure he’s up here at the front with us, or if he’d be better off staying with the other children his own age, or if he is tired of me trying to look after him…”

“I think he appreciates it,” Ceniro said. “We can all keep our spirits up together. He probably feels the worst of all of us right now – he’s closest to Ninian, and there’s not much he can do to help her, not even as much as Eliwood.”

“Mm,” was her answer. “I know a little how that feels. But we’ll save her. We have to reassure ourselves and him of that.”

“Exactly,” Eliwood said, from behind them, and Ceniro jumped. “Oh, my apologies. I thought you knew I was there.”

“It’s all right,” Ceniro said. “You’re doing all right, right?”

Eliwood looked at the sky. “Well… I suppose as well as can be expected. I feel like we’re going too slow, but there’s only so fast I can make my own body move, let alone everyone else. I should ride more.”

“You are good at riding, Eliwood?” Lyn asked.

“I’m actually very good,” Eliwood said. “Perhaps once we pass into Lycia I shall request my horse from Pherae. I’d rather not ride a borrowed horse into battle.”

“Oh, you can fight from horseback too?” Ceniro asked. “How did I not know that?”

“It hasn’t come up,” Eliwood said. “But you knew Marcus is my teacher.”

“But you fight using the fencing style, with a rapier,” Lyn said. “How does that translate into mounted combat?”

“I see your point,” Eliwood conceded. “Not at all, actually.”

“I’m not bad on a horse myself,” Lyn said. “But I prefer to fight with a sword on foot. I’ll ride like the wind when not in battle, but for defeating bandits I prefer to use my own agility.”

“Understandable,” Eliwood said. “I believe you, too. They say Sacaeans are the best horsemen in Elibe, descended from Hanon the horse archeress, although… the young man named Guy doesn’t seem to be very enthusiastic about it…”

“Well, not everyone’s the same,” Lyn chided gently. “Not all Lycians live in stone houses, right?”

“Hey,” Ceniro said mildly.

“Hello,” Lyn said, smiling cheekily at him.

“I understand your point,” Eliwood said. “And I know we’re going as quick as we can without being too tired for emergencies. I’m just…”

“I know,” she said, and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll save her. And stop Nergal. We have to believe.”

“I believe,” Eliwood said fervently.

“Greetings!” came from behind them, and they turned to see Kent and Sain, with Nils riding with Kent. The hail had come from Sain, who was waving enthusiastically.

“Hello, boys,” Lyn said. “What news do you bring?”

“No news,” Kent said. “Only Nils.”

“Thank you, Sir Kent,” Nils said, and jumped down to walk with Eliwood.

“Are you feeling better now?” Ceniro asked.

“Mm,” Nils nodded. “Much better. I was having trouble finding you, though, so I asked your knights. Was that okay?”

Lyn glanced at Ceniro and they both relaxed a little. “It’s more than okay,” Lyn said.

“In fact, we were going to go look for you about now,” Ceniro said.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Nils asked. “Can you show me? I want to know.”

Lyn and Eliwood looked at Ceniro.

“Unfortunately, I lent my farseer to Hector for the time being,” Ceniro said, and the two lords seemed unsurprised. Kent and Sain, however, looked startled. “But if I remember right, heading northwest will bring us through the mountain foothills straight into Kathelet, probably by evening if we’re not delayed. From there it’ll be a few days to Ostia.”

“Too bad you’ll never make it!” said a raucous voice, and a bandit swung down from a tree in front of them.

Lyn, Eliwood, Kent, and Sain instantly drew their swords, looking warily around as more bandits began to appear through the undergrowth around them. Only Ceniro stood still, looking completely calm. “Stay with me, Nils,” he said in a low voice, and the boy nodded and shifted closer to him, although still poised for flight.

“Looks like we caught a nice noble outing,” one of the bandits said, drawing closer. “Two rich kids and their babysitters and servants.”

Kent looked offended. “Is that all you think we are?”

Sain laughed. “With how strong Lady Lyndis is now, we could probably just let her take care of it by herself.” The two knights glanced at each other in amused agreement.

Lyn growled. “You brigands be warned, I hate your kind.”

“The kitten thinks she has teeth, huh? Don’t worry, we won’t kill you…”

“I don’t think anyone here is really all that worried,” Eliwood said. “There are indeed many of you, but I think we might be more than a match for you…”

“You kids think you’re better than us, with your pretty little unmarred faces? Obviously you have no experience!”

“Or mayyyybe,” Sain said, leaning forward and tapping his headband, “we have some awesome healers with our group, and they keep us pretty. It’s you guys who have no skill, letting people stab you in the face like that!”

“It’s unwise to judge a person’s experience by their appearance,” Kent said sternly. “We’ve been on a long journey, getting stronger in mind and body every day. Prepare yourselves!”

“No more talk!” the lead bandit shouted. “It’s you who should prepare yourselves!”

Ceniro took a step forward. “Excuse me…”

“Nothing you say can save you now!”

Ceniro took a deep breath… and whistled.

Fiora and her pegasus dropped neatly through a gap in the trees, the stern look on her face identical to Kent’s. “You called, sir?” She was followed closely by her sisters.

“More women…” said one of the bandits, and Ceniro could almost see imaginary gold coins floating in the man’s eyes. Then Heath and Vaida followed them with a massive thud and a growling of wyverns, and the man snapped back to reality with a frightened jump.

“Enough!” Lyn snapped, her sword making an angry flick. “Look around you. You are surrounded. I will grant you mercy should you choose to flee now.”

With some crashing and some cursing and some squeaking, the rest of the army slowly filtered into view, all more or less ready for battle, though also more or less adorned with bits of forest undergrowth.

Sain didn’t lower his sword, but his smile turned rueful. “Does that mean I’m not going to get to show off today?”

“You don’t need to show off, your wife is in Pherae,” Kent said.

Sain’s smile grew. “While you, on the other hand…”

Kent and Fiora’s eyes met, and they both blushed and looked away quickly.

The bandit leader looked worried. “Uh. Please forgive us! We didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what?” Lyn growled. “That we were a large, heavily armed group? I should take you out anyway for the sake of future travelers…”

“Don’t, Lyndis,” Eliwood said. “It would be a massacre.”

“Eliwood, bandits don’t care about things like that.”

The bandit leader fell to his knees. “No, please, don’t kill us! We’ll do something else. We’re sorry!”

Lyn turned away and sheathed her sword with a sharp click. “Hah. I’ll believe it when I see it. Be off, then.”

They all turned and ran south, towards the mountains.

“Well, that was exciting,” Fiora said. “May I be of any other service?”

“No, I think we’re good,” Eliwood said. “Thank you for your quick arrival.”

Fiora bowed from the waist. “It was our pleasure.” Ceniro waved to the rest of the army, which began to disperse again into their traveling formation.

Farina snorted. “It’s what you’re paying me for! I’d hate to let you down after that!”

Kent smiled. “In any case, Lady Fiora…” he trailed off.

“In any case,” Sain put in loudly, looking pointedly in a completely different direction, “it’s a good thing no one got hurt, and maybe someone should just check and make sure that everyone really isn’t hurt? Should I do that? Maybe I should do that. Come on, Lady Farina, Florina, let’s go make sure everyone is without scratches from these nasty trees.”

Fiora began to blush again, as Farina snickered, Florina giggled, and both of them turned their pegasi to follow the gaily chattering Sain.

Lyn smiled at Nils. “What wonderful friends we have, huh?”

Eliwood looked at Ceniro as Kent and Fiora moved out in front of them, horse and pegasus keeping pace with each other. “Wait, is that a thing?”

Ceniro chuckled. “I think most of their friends have been trying to get them together since Fiora joined our army – and I’ll freely admit I’m one of those people.”

“They do seem very similar, at least,” Nils said. “Is that a good thing?” He seemed doubtful.

“They’re perfect,” Lyn sighed, clasping her hands. “I’m so happy for them. On this difficult journey, there are so many of us here who have found people to care for…”

“Mm,” Eliwood agreed. “But I’m glad there’s so many of us that we can pass these places unthreatened by normal attacks.”

“We’re not invulnerable, but any normal attack would be clear suicide,” Ceniro agreed. “Eliwood, once we get into Kathelet, let’s get transport for our people on foot. It will help a lot, probably two or three days worth.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Eliwood said. “The first place we come to, we’ll buy a couple carts and horses.”

Ceniro blinked, then reminded himself that Eliwood was rich.

“And I’ll send home for my horse, and have it meet us at Ostia. It’ll take some time for him to make the journey, but like I said, I’d rather ride my own horse than someone else’s.”

“What colour is your horse?” Nils asked.

Eliwood smiled. “He’s white. His name is Oren. The first thing I’ll do is take you for a ride, okay? I mean, you can and maybe have ridden with everyone here. But… you and me, we’ll go for a ride.”

“I would like that,” Nils said.

 

They camped on the western side of the river that marked the boundary between Kathelet and the wilderness, and darkness fell around them as they made plans for the next day.

“Hey,” said a voice, and Hector stepped into the firelight.

Eliwood and Lyn jumped up, and Ceniro followed suit, for Hector looked terrible. His armour and clothes were covered in blood and strange, orange dirt, and he had clearly taken many wounds – probably healed by Athos, Ceniro guessed, as none of them were currently bleeding. He swayed on his feet, clearly past the edge of exhaustion. But his eyes glittered, he was smiling – smirking, even – and in his hand he carried an axe with a curved edge which was twice as large as his usual Wolf Beil that hung from his belt.

“Hector!” Lyn cried. “You… What happened to you?”

“I won,” Hector said, collapsing on a seat with a clatter of armour and a sigh. The giant axe he laid down gently beside him. Ceniro looked around for any of the other Ostians, and saw Matthew flickering away. “It was a challenge, a test of my strength and will. This baby was guarded by the spirits of soldiers who fought in the Scouring. And at the end of it, Durban himself wanted to know who the hell I was and what I was going to do with his axe. I think I convinced him I was good enough to wield it.” A shadow of something else, something apprehensive, flickered across his face, less guarded than usual in his weariness.

“What?” Eliwood asked. “What is it, Hector?”

Hector waved it away. “Nothing we didn’t already know.” He laughed at some joke that only he understood, and the other three smiled, reassured.

Oswin, Serra, and Matthew were hurrying up. “Young master! You have returned!”

“My lord,” Oswin said, kneeling. “May I congratulate you on your safe return.”

“You look terrible!” Serra cried. “You need to rest right now!”

“In a minute, I’m still catching up,” Hector said, waving her off. “But thanks, guys. Good to know I was missed.”

“Some missed you more than others,” Matthew said, with a sly glance at Serra.

Serra actually blushed, and snorted. “I don’t know why I bother.”

“Well,” Matthew said, considering, “perhaps she didn’t miss you quite as much as she was occupied an awful lot with pestering a certain young bookish friend of ours…”

“That really narrows it down,” Lyn said, joking along with him, but Serra’s blush was increasing.

“Matthew, I swear, if you don’t stop talking about it I will actually attempt to break your ear-drums.”

“Been there, done that, I’m out,” Matthew said, grinning and holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’ll give you my daily report tomorrow, young master. You rest now.” He vanished back into the darkness outside the firelight.

Oswin had stood calmly through the preceding altercation, and now came forward. “There has been no news, Lord Hector – although, as you probably know, we are now within the borders of Kathelet. We shall reach our destination in four or five days, if we obtain some form of transport for the rest of our footsoldiers and the weather is good.”

“And we don’t get attacked, although I guess within Lycia that’s not gonna happen,” Hector said. “Hey, is there anything to eat? Now that I’ve had a chance to sit down, I’m famished.”

“I’ll get you something,” Eliwood said, and was back in a moment. Hector began stuffing his face with even more enthusiasm than usual.

Lyn rolled her eyes. “We actually were attacked this afternoon. They ran away when they saw how many we were.”

Hector snorted a laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me. Did they truly run away from our numbers, or from your righteous fury?”

“As I understand it, both,” Oswin said, and Lyn sighed in exasperation. “I mean no disrespect, Lady Lyndis.”

“I know, it’s not because of that,” she said, and smiled disarmingly at the knight.

“That’s great, Oswin,” Hector said, finishing his food already. He yawned and stretched, his armour clinking and leather creaking. “I’m done for the day. Is there somewhere I can sleep; a log or a plank or something?”

“Your tent is set up, my lord,” Oswin said, gesturing.

Hector stood and nodded to the others. “I’ll see you tomorrow, you three.” He turned away, then paused. “Oh, yeah, Ceniro,” he called. “Don’t let me forget this.” He tossed the farseer at the tactician, who managed to catch it with a minimum of fuss for once. “It was pretty great.”

“I’m glad it was of help,” Ceniro said. “Sleep well.”

Hector waved and left.

 

Four days later, they stood at the entrance to a cave in the north of Ostia. Or at least the army was camped at the entrance to a cave in the north of Ostia.

Eliwood, Hector, Lyn, Marcus, Athos, and Ceniro had ventured deep into the cave, led by Athos. At first it had been cold, but now with every turn of the passage it grew hotter and hotter.

At length, they stepped through an opening into a wide cavern. The heat was stifling. Hector and Marcus lowered the torches they held; there was no need for them anymore. Ahead, there were the remains of strange ruined walls, massive, man-made but ancient and partly crumbled. From the edges of the cavern and from below the floor of the main chamber, pools of lava lit and heated the room.

“I never knew there was a place like this in Lycia,” Eliwood said, staring. A bead of sweat rolled down and dripped off his nose; he ignored it.

“It even hurts to breathe, it’s so hot,” Lyn gasped, fanning herself to no avail.

Hector yelped. “Look there! Is that a jet of flames?”

“We’ll have to watch our step,” Eliwood said. “Or rather… I will have to watch my step, won’t I?” He turned to Athos expectantly.

Athos nodded. “Long ago, when Lycia was a single country, an altar was built here in secret. What lies here requires protection from evil hearts.”

“And evil hearts generally aren’t brave or desperate enough to head into the heart of a volcano, is that it?” Lyn asked.

“The weapons we wielded contained great strength. Power fearsome enough to cut down dragons…”

“Hopefully we don’t have to actually face dragons,” Eliwood said. “If dragons come, we’ll be too late, whether we have weapons or not.”

“Today, the might in those remaining weapons is not what it once was,” Athos said. “Yet they have been safeguarded to keep them from evil hands. This place… No one’s stepped foot in here since Roland’s death. Roland’s presence still fills the air. All that reside here now are former soldiers who guard the sword. This is your trial, Eliwood. A few of you may enter, but only you can approach the altar. Go and prove that you have the strength to wield Durandal!”

Hector grimaced. “This is even less inviting than my trial. Good luck, Eliwood. You’ll need it.”

Eliwood smiled. “Thanks. I’ll take it.”

Ceniro cleared his throat nervously. “Am… am I allowed to help him with the farseer?”

Athos nodded. “Certainly. But we shall wait here.”

“We’re rooting for you, Eliwood!” Lyn said, and gave him a little punch on the arm. He laughed and took it.

“Go kick some butt,” Hector said. “Don’t mind us, we’ll just be glued to Ceniro’s shoulders for the next few hours.”

Marcus stepped forward to lay his hand on Eliwood’s shoulder. “I believe you are ready for this. You are brave and strong, quick and true-hearted. Your sword never misses its mark. Your father would be proud of what you are about to accomplish.”

Eliwood smiled and bowed his head. “Thank you, Marcus. That means much to me.” He stepped towards the clear entrance to the maze, for such the farseer was showing Ceniro. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

“We’ll be here,” Hector said.

“Oh for goodness’ sake, we can talk to him through Ceniro’s farseer. Don’t act like he’s leaving on a distant journey,” Lyn said.

“Like me?” Hector teased.

“Ugh, whatever.” Lyn draped herself against Ceniro, already watching the farseer avidly. “Spirits of Roland’s soldiers, huh? I wonder if they’ll attack us, too.”

“We should be beyond their guarded grounds,” Athos said placidly, sitting down to wait.

The next few hours were more exciting than they had any right to be for people not actively engaged in combat. Ceniro had put the farseer on the ground, and the four of them clustered around it intently, watching as Eliwood’s miniature figure made its way slowly through the maze.

The spirits of the dead soldiers were difficult opponents, but fortunately they didn’t attack Eliwood more than two at a time, giving Ceniro space to offer the occasional word of advice on when to counter-attack, when to hold his ground, and when to retreat to a better position. Not only the soldiers threatened the young lord, but in some places the lava would come spurting through the floor. More than once Eliwood had to sprint for safety, or cover, or jump back to save his boots.

“Geez,” Hector said. “There were poisonous fumes in my trial, but lava is something else entirely. Durandal must be even better than Armads.”

“There is no ‘better’,” Athos said serenely. “Armads has an affinity for thunder, and Durandal has an affinity for fire, if that influences your understanding of the trials.”

“Not really,” Hector said. “But I’m glad to know it.”

Mostly all they could hear was Eliwood’s breathing, and the occasional shout as he attacked or ran. The guardians he fought were all completely silent.

At last, Eliwood reached the end of the maze. The farseer was not good at showing detail at its small scale, but Ceniro guessed that there was a dais, and an altar. There was certainly a very large spirit with a very large axe there.

This spirit spoke to Eliwood. “I am Georg, one of Sir Roland’s warriors… You trespass here… I shall cut you down…”

Eliwood made no answer; had no time to make an answer, all he could do was duck and roll as Georg’s axe sailed through the space where he had just been standing. The little group watching was completely silent, though Ceniro noted that there were four pairs of clenched fists on knees around the farseer.

Eliwood moved like Ceniro had never seen him move before. The Heaven’s Seal must have been helping him more than the tactician could have guessed. He had noticed it in the fight to get to the altar, but now against this man, Eliwood’s new strength and speed was incredible to behold – even by proxy.

Eliwood was making full use of the space given to him, but he didn’t seem to be making much headway against the giant he fought.

“Ceniro,” he gasped. “My rapier… it’s not strong enough. Not… not long enough…”

“What do you mean?” Ceniro asked, deliberately keeping his voice as calm as he could.

“Can’t get close enough… to his weak spots. Too big… too much reach. The axe…” He broke off as he ducked from behind cover just as the giant axe crashed through the stone he had been standing behind.

“You’re doing fine,” Ceniro said, and glanced at Marcus. The older man was sweating bullets. Ceniro gave him a reassuring smile, and the general nodded.

“Lord Eliwood,” Marcus said, “I don’t know if I can help you formulate a plan from here… but you will either have to get behind him, disarm him, or be faster than he is.”

Eliwood didn’t speak for a few moments. Then he gave a short laugh. “Tall orders all three.”

“I believe in you, Lord Eliwood,” Marcus said earnestly. “Remember we believe in you. We all believe in you.”

“…Ninian,” Eliwood might have said softly.

Whatever the case, there was no question that Eliwood’s next attack rivaled even Lyn’s for speed and precision. The rapier stabbed into Georg’s gloved hand, and the massive axe crashed to the ground. But Eliwood was already turning, spinning, lining up his rapier for a nigh-impossible stab to Georg’s chest. Georg’s blow with his left fist went over Eliwood’s head, and the rapier pierced his body.

The spirit instantly evaporated into dust and vapour, blowing away in the hot wind of the cave.

“Who are you?” it said. “You and Sir Roland are as one…”

Hector fell flat on his back. “I’m done. I didn’t even fight today and I’m done.”

Lyn laughed and poked him. “You say that, but given a few Black Fang or morphs, you’ll be chomping at the bit again.”

“Well done, Eliwood,” Ceniro said earnestly. Marcus couldn’t even speak for emotion.

Athos rose finally and disappeared, teleporting to Eliwood’s side.

Eliwood was bent over panting, his hands on his knees, his rapier fallen abandoned to the cave floor.

“Well done,” Athos said gently, and the young lord straightened.

“Thank you, sir. Did… Did I…?”

“You did,” Athos said. “And now… for a reunion of sorts. Stand there. I must greet my old friend, the little knight, Sir Roland.” Eliwood remained in place as Athos approached the altar. “Roland… Roland, awaken.”

There was a brief flash of white light, which Ceniro could see over the walls from the other side of the cavern. Eliwood had raised his arm to shield his eyes, but now he lowered it and stared.

Standing in front of the altar was a rather short ghostly man with a messy mop of blue hair and blue eyes. “Athos, my wise old friend.”

“Roland, it is good to see you.”

“Much time has passed, hasn’t it,” Roland said, looking past Athos and Eliwood to the crumbling stone walls. “For me, fighting the dragons was only a few decades ago. Remember that time? It was dark and full of fear, but we had good friends, too.”

“It was, it was,” Athos said. “But you are right. It has been nearly a thousand years since the dragons left this world. And yet… the world is threatened by one who craves the might of dragons once again.”

Roland’s eyes sharpened and his back straightened. He looked ready to act. “How can such a one…?”

“It is a long story. I myself will tell it to you when I come to join you. But Roland. Look upon this boy.” He gestured to Eliwood, who stepped forward and bowed low. “He is of your descendants, and he seeks your aid to stop the evil one. Please, lend him your aid.”

Roland frowned in concern. “I… no longer have flesh and blood within this world… I cannot see what help I… Ah, but I know! Of course, it’s what you came to ask in the first place.” His eyes twinkled as he smiled. He turned to the altar. “Take this. Its power has weakened somewhat over the ages, but with my power added to it, it shall be as keen as ever it was.”

“If you give your soul’s strength to it, you shall pass forever from the reach of this world,” Athos cautioned him.

Roland nodded, his eyes lit by a fire that had sometimes appeared in Eliwood’s eyes. “And yet my heart will be glad. If I might help my children, there is nothing else I need do.” He stepped forward to look Athos in the face, though indeed he was much shorter than the old Archsage. “Besides… the dead should be beyond the reach of this world anyway. This arrangement was only temporary at best, a just-in-case, though it has been a thousand years. I have given my all to this world, and now I am fortunate enough to give a little more, that’s all. Hardly anyone else receives such a chance.”

“You haven’t changed in the slightest, Roland,” Athos said.

Roland’s eyes twinkled again. “…I only ask that you see this through, my friend…”

“I will,” Athos promised him solemnly.

Roland turned his eyes to Eliwood. “You are a fine man. I am glad there are still people like you in the world. I shall be honoured to give my last gift to you.”

“And I am honoured to accept and wield it,” Eliwood answered.

“Ugh,” Hector said from where he lay on the cave floor. “They are like each other.”

“And was Durban like you?” Lyn asked, a bit nettled at Hector’s derision.

“Oh yeah. He was like ‘I need to fight stuff, I’m bored’, and I was like ‘hey you, I need your strength’ and he was like ‘deal’…”

“Shut up,” Lyn hissed.

Roland disappeared with another flash of light, and Ceniro clearly heard Eliwood’s intake of breath. “This sword…”

“That is Durandal, the Blazing Sword,” Athos said. “Take it; it is yours.”

Eliwood reverently stretched out his hand and took up the sword. It was long and broad, with a blade four feet long, and the base of the blade was as broad as a handspan.

“The Blazing Sword,” Eliwood said. He lifted it. Though it took him both hands, he seemed to have no trouble manoeuvring it deftly through the air.

It came with a sheath, almost a harness, that let him carry it at the waist. Eliwood took the sheath, still carrying the sword in his hands, and Athos teleported them both back to his friends.

When he stepped into direct line of sight from the maze entrance, Ceniro and Lyn started. Like Hector a few days before, he looked awful. Perhaps not as badly wounded as Hector, but it was one thing to hear him get injured on the farseer and another to see the results in person. But Athos had already healed his cuts and burns.

He walked steadily towards them, smiling, the sword under one arm and his tattered cloak balled up under the other. He was drenched in sweat; his hair stuck limply to his forehead and even his outer tunic was soaked.

Hector, of course, didn’t react. “Good work, Eli. So that’s the legendary blade, huh?”

Eliwood’s smile grew broader, prouder. “It is. I… don’t know what else to say.”

Marcus bowed. “It is the greatest of honours to stand in your presence and that of the Blazing Sword, Lord Eliwood. Your father would be beside himself with joy, as I am sure your mother will be as well.”

Lyn peered at the hilt. “It’s very strange… Of course I’ve never seen it before, but it feels… familiar, somehow.”

Eliwood blinked. “Now that you say it… it does, doesn’t it?” He grinned. “Perhaps it’s our ancestor inside.”

“Perhaps,” Lyn said.

“Ugh, you’re both weirdos,” Hector said. “But mostly you.” He nodded to Lyn, who rolled her eyes at him.

“Come,” Eliwood said. “We must head to Badon with all speed. Ninian is waiting, and I’m sure Nergal hasn’t been idle as we march, either.”

“And let’s get out of these heat,” Lyn agreed. “It’s nice after the cold winds of the mountains, but only for a few minutes.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hector said. “We haven’t even been doing anything.”

“That’s what I said to you!” she said.

Ceniro laughed. “You’re both right, and I’m glad to be with you.”

“Oh, no, he’s going to start being sappy,” Hector groaned. “Let’s go before he says anything worse.”

The others chuckled as they followed him from the cave.

 

The mountain wind was biting as they exited the cave mouth. Twilight was falling. Lyn immediately shivered, and Eliwood offered her his cloak. She accepted it gratefully. Hector snarked, but she ignored it.

“All right,” Eliwood said. “Marcus, get the army ready to travel. Tents, campfires, everything ready to go within ten minutes.”

“As you say, my lord,” Marcus said, saluting. “Ah! Lord Eliwood-”

Eliwood glanced down to where Marcus was pointing, and saw Durandal was glowing. “Lord Athos… what does this mean?”

“Something is coming,” Athos said. “Be ready for anything!”

Eliwood opened his mouth to respond, and his hand tensed around the sword, but anything he had been going to say was drowned out by a chilling screech that filled the entire valley. Ceniro dropped to his knees, his hands over his ears. Hector was staring transfixed at the sky.

“Dragon-!”

“It can’t be!” Lyn cried. “Not already!”

A long, lithe, pale green serpentine form was approaching rapidly.

“We’re too late!?” Ceniro said. “This can’t…”

The dragon caught sight of them, up on the mountainside, and turned towards them with another shriek. In the valley below, most of the members of their army were screaming and running to and fro. Ceniro knew he should say something to them, but he didn’t know what to say… To go? To stay? To hide? To fight?

Eliwood’s face was white, but he grasped Durandal and drew it, the blade blazing with white light. “Stay back, everyone!”

Hector reached for him as he leapt forward, but he was too slow – Eliwood was faster than ever before, and the bright sword seemed to pull him onward, insanely fast. The blade left a track of light through the air as it slashed. The dragon shrieked again and fell from the air, crashing into the mountainside just below them. Lyn flinched and grabbed Hector, which was hindered somewhat by the fact that Ceniro was grabbing her for the same reason.

Eliwood landed in a crouch not far away, the light in the sword dimming. He stood and turned to face them, his face still white in shock, but he was beginning to breath normally again.

“Eliwood,” Hector said uncertainly. “Are you all right?”

Eliwood wiped his brow with a sleeve. “I think so… My body… My body moved on its own, as if the sword was guiding me. I don’t think I could have…” He looked very shaky as he climbed back up to them. “Lord Athos, if Nergal has released the dragons, we will need a new plan, won’t we? What should we do?” He started and looked more closely. “Lord Athos? What’s wrong?”

Athos was silent for a long moment, staring at the great body of the dragon. “Well…”

“Let me be the one to answer that,” said the most unwelcome voice the little group knew of, and Nergal appeared on the other side of the dragon.

Eliwood’s face contorted in rage. “Blackheart! You!”

“Ninian proved useless,” Nergal said casually. “I’ve come for a replacement.” He waved his hand, and Nils appeared beside him, eyes blank and half-lidded.

“Nils!” Eliwood cried.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Nergal chided him. “He won’t be awake for some time. Nils will do for me what Ninian would not.”

“What have you done with Ninian!?” Eliwood shouted.

Nergal slowly smiled and chuckled. “It’s not what I’ve done. It’s what you’ve done, Eliwood.”

Ceniro felt a sudden lump of ice form in his gut, and to see the faces of the others, the same had happened to them. “…What?” Eliwood breathed.

“Eliwood, did you never once question it? Why the siblings were needed to open the Dragon’s Gate? Why did it have to be Ninian and Nils?” The group on the hill was silent. “The answer is simple. The Dragon’s Gate cannot be opened by humans. Why would humans be able to open a gate that was designed… for dragons?”

“…What?” Eliwood repeated numbly. The rage had gone from his face, replaced only by horrified fear.

“It’s pitiful, really. Poor Ninian’s plight. Coaxed by my honeyed words, she and her brother passed through the gate… Though unable to return home, they refused to aid me and wandered lost and alone, until… she was slain by the hand of the one she loved.”

“What… what are you saying?” Eliwood’s voice was very faint.

“Can you not guess? Or is it that you are afraid to know?” Nergal’s expression was dark, contemptuous. “Very well. Let me tell you, Eliwood. The ice dragon there… The beast slaughtered by your hand…” His words fell hard and merciless. “That is Ninian. The girl you loved. The girl you swore to protect. She returned to her true form and lost all human memory. Yet you, above all else, remained in her heart, and she came here… Look upon the creature you have slain. That is Ninian.”

Eliwood made only a choking noise.

Nergal gestured to the dragon, which had begun to flicker. “Go on, look. She’s using the last of her strength to take human form for one last time. I believe there may still be time enough to say farewell. You know, of course, that you cannot save her.”

When Eliwood’s head came up again, there was something dark and ugly there. Tears and hate glittered in his eyes, and his words ground painfully from his throat. “Nergal! You…”

Nergal shrugged. “It’s not me, Eliwood. It’s you. You killed her.”

“I-” Eliwood shook, then let out a horrible scream, tears streaming freely down his face. Only Hector’s now-in-time grab stopped him from launching suicidally at Nergal.

“Eliwood! Get a hold of yourself!” his friend said. “You’ll only get yourself killed!”

The dragon shuddered again and melted, and there was only Ninian, looking small and fragile in its place. Blood was seeping through her clothes in a diagonal line from left shoulder to right hip. Eliwood’s slash had been accurate and lethal. Only the Holy Maiden Staff would be able to help her, and it was far away in Etruria.

All the more shocking when she opened her eyes, eyes that unsettlingly mirrored the colour of her blood, and tried to speak. “L… Lord Eli…wood…”

Hector let go of Eliwood and he rushed to her side. “Ninian!”

He gathered her in his arms and she gasped a little from the movement. “…Ninian? …Ninian!”

To their shock, she was smiling a little. “Eliwood…”

“Ninian! Please… please don’t die!” The tears were beginning to pour down again. “I… What have I done!?”

Her eyes flickered open again and looked up at him. “You… saved them, Lord Eliwood… from me… I’m glad…”

“What?”

“I’m glad… that… you are unharmed…” Her eyes closed again.

“Ninian, I… I…”

“It’s all right… Eliwood… It’s… truly… all right. Please… protect…” Her breath fluttered out and stopped.

“…Ninian…” Eliwood sobbed. “Ninian? You can’t… Answer me… …There’s so much I haven’t told you… You… can’t… Why……?”

He let his face fall upwards and screamed her name.

For a long minute, everyone and everything was silent except for the sound of Eliwood’s body-wracking sobs. Everyone was quiet down in the valley. Even the wind seemed stilled.

“Farewell, Eliwood,” Nergal said at last. “You will spend your last days trembling in the shadow of dragons.”

He made as if to go, but Athos stepped forward. “I will not permit that!” The Archsage spread his arms, an ancient, shining tome in his hands, and a vast tornado of fire enveloped Nergal. Nils went flying, still blank-faced. Marcus hurried forward to catch the boy.

From the roaring depths of the fire, which churned up even the stones around him, they heard Nergal laugh low. “The purest fire… Forblaze, the Flame Breath. Very impressive, Archsage Athos. However… However, fire is no longer my foe! Look! Not even a legendary blade can cause me harm! At long last, I am impervious!” He laughed again, louder, triumphantly.

Athos let his arms fall to his sides, suddenly looking old and frail.

“Miserable, aren’t you, Athos? Yet out of respect for the great man you used to be, I’ll leave. After all, 500 years ago, we followed the same path, did we not, old friend?” Nergal wrapped his black cloak tighter around him and vanished. The valley fell silent again.

Hector was the first to break the silence. “What… what do we do now? It seems not even the Legendary Weapons will be of any use against him…”

In Marcus’s arms, Nils stirred and groaned.

“Nils!?” Lyn turned and helped him stand, leaning on her. “You’re awake! Are you okay?”

“Uhhh…?” Nils managed. “Ninian… where’s Ninian? I heard…”

Lyn choked; Ceniro choked, Hector straightened, and Nils caught sight of Eliwood’s bowed head and Ninian’s blood-soaked body.

Eliwood turned his grimy, tear-streaked face to Nils, sniffling. “Nils… I’m… so sorry…”

Nils fell to his knees despite Lyn’s arms and screamed.

 

Chapter 7: Cog of Destiny           Chapter 9: Sands of Time