Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The moment the Divine Dragon’s army neared Destinea Cathedral, the Emblems sensed it. Regardless of which world they hailed from, all nineteen Emblems had been corrupted by a Fell Dragon’s invocation before; they knew what Sombron’s power felt like and it was radiating from the once-holy structure. Soren immediately asked his current partner, princess Céline, to bring him over to Alear. They were likely too late. Rushing into the former place of worship would be suicidal. He thought he had acted rather quickly, so he was surprised to see Alear already discussing their options with Marth, Chrom and Robin.

“If Sombron has already regained his full power, that means that the ritual in which King Morion was to be sacrificed has already happened. We’re too late.” Marth finished explaining as the mages approached.

“My thoughts exactly, Marth.” Soren added, announcing his presence to the royals. “I suggest retreating. We cannot risk the lives of our troops for a life that is beyond saving-”

Alear cut him off “But he might still be alive! We can’t just abandon him!”

“Agreed.” affirmed Chrom. “We don’t leave allies behind.”

Robin floated up to Soren. “I’ve already sent scouts ahead; once we know how heavily guarded the cathedral is we can discuss a plan for-”

Soren pinched the bridge of his nose; he could feel a migraine coming on… It was like strategizing with Skirmir all over again. “And what is your brilliant plan if we charge into a heavily guarded enemy stronghold only to find a corpse?”

Chrom stuttered “We’ll… uh… King Hyacinth and Sombron are in there! We can take them out and end this war now!”

“Right!” Alear agreed. “We have thirteen Emblems! Even if they somehow seized Solm’s rings behind our backs, we still outnumber them two to one! We can win this!”

“I highly doubt that.” Soren countered. “We may outnumber them in that aspect, but we’re severely lacking in other departments and that could cost us the battle. Due to your mad pursuit of King Morion, we have not returned to the Somniel since crossing the border and our forces have been marching day and night. We are lacking in information, supplies, morale-”

“Alright, Soren. We get it, we’re at a disadvantage.” Robin conceded.

Soren wasn’t done though “-and on top of all that, we don’t even have a clear idea of how this ritual to resurrect Sombron even works. There may not even be a corpse to return to Brodia! And Fell Dragons have a tendency to be nigh-invincible without the use of specific legendary weapons. Libération may not be enough and only a fool would rely on the weapons we Emblems carry when most of us are not at a stage when we can lend those weapons freely. Sombron may be untouchable at the moment, so you’d be throwing away the lives of our troops-”

“Since when were you an expert on Fell Dragons?” Chrom asked, confused.

Soren raised an eyebrow at the exalt “I’m not. I’m a wind sage, Chrom. This is merely a trend I’ve observed over the cycles.” Soren gestured to Robin. “If anyone here knows how that ritual is supposed to work, it would be you two. Wasn’t the Dragon’s Table the site of an elaborate resurrection ritual for the Fell Dragon Grima?”

“Yes, but we were the ones trying to stop it! Validar didn’t exactly give us a rundown of how it worked!” Robin protested. “And that ritual needed the sacrifice of half the Grimleal and a vessel for Grima to use, not a single sacrifice of royal blood. They’re likely completely different rituals!”

“And now you’ve raised another possibility; that King Morion could be being used as a vessel for a potentially all-powerful Fell Dragon. Do you now see why rushing into that glorified death trap would be the most idiotic-!”

“That’s enough Soren.” Marth cut off the tactician. Against all the odds, Soren actually listened to the Hero-King, although he couldn’t help but glare at the three others who still looked like they were ready to storm the cathedral themselves. “You have made your point; one I agree with.”

“Marth!? Not you too!” exclaimed Alear.

The Lodestar looked genuinely remorseful as he spoke “I understand your plight, Alear. The need to save your allies is an admirable trait, but you cannot let personal attachments overrule your better judgement.”

“But Marth-!” Chrom tried to cut in, but Marth simply held up a hand, silencing his descendant.

“Chrom. I assume you are familiar with the history that was my reality. Tell me; when Altea was conquered and I was forced into exile, what did I do?”

Chrom actually paused and thought a moment. “Well… once your location was revealed, you aided Aurelis, then marched on Gra, right?”

Marth nodded. “Correct. Now, what do you think would have happened if I attempted to retake Altea at that point?”

“You… would’ve lost…”

“Exactly. It is painful to admit, but I had no way of taking back my home and kingdom, no way to protect my people. Of course, I wanted to release them from Dolhr and Grust’s tyranny, but if I had let my sentiment control my strategy, perhaps Gharnef and Medeus would’ve won and brought all of Archanea to ruin.” Marth turned back to Alear. “You must choose; sentiment or strategy.”

Alear remained silent, a contemplative look on her face.

Eventually, Robin spoke up. “We’ll give you some time to decide.” She nodded at her husband and they both disappeared back to their bracelet.

“Then we shall as well.” Marth added, disappearing as well.

Soren had half a mind not to. He had a bad feeling about this. Alear was so inexperienced and although she had led this army well thus far, that trend couldn’t last forever. Even the best leaders made the occasional mistake and Soren dreaded that the Divine Dragon was overdue for one.

Before he disappeared, Soren gave her one last piece of advice “Do what is best for all of us.”

~*~

When the Emblems were summoned once more, they were surprised to see the spires of Destinea Cathedral poking above the tree line and their partners gearing up for battle. The Divine Dragon’s army was going to storm the cathedral. Soren demanded Céline take him to Alear immediately.

The princess found Alear discussing strategy with Sir Vander and the princes in one of the tents, hovering over a white, circular jewellery box. Soren recognised it as an heirloom treasured by the Divine Dragons; it was the vessel they used to transport the rings safely, most often to the battlefield. It had apparently magically expanded when the bracelets had appeared in this Elyos, allowing enough room for all twelve rings and all seven bracelets to share the same container. Usually, the bracelets would be securely tucked between the satin cushions in the centre of the box, pointing outwards like a snowflake, the rings forming a circle around them. The blue satin cushions inside were completely bare. Every Emblem had been given to someone. The Ring of the Young Lion gleamed on Prince Diamant’s gauntlet. Prince Alcryst was polishing the Bracelet of the Three Houses. Prince Alfred was admiring the golden sheen of the Ring of the Sage Lord. The Divine Dragon was staring glumly at the Ring of the Hero-King as she slipped it onto her finger. All of the Emblems were noticeably absent, as if they had already given up arguing and had resigned themselves to their fate.

They really intended to go through with this pointless suicide mission.

“Alear! Would you mind explaining exactly what is happening here!?” Soren might as well have been spitting poison, with how the war council looked at him in shock.

“Emblem Soren,” addressed Prince Diamant calmly, “We are storming Destinea Cathedral within the hour. I suggest you allow Princess Céline to prepare accordingly.”

Soren ignored him, instead floating as close to Alear as his tether to Céline allowed. “Did our discussion earlier mean nothing to you!? If this is what you call ‘sentiment over strategy’ and ‘doing what’s best for everyone’ then perhaps those one thousand years you spent wasting away in bed have rotted your brain!”

Vander spoke up “How dare you speak to the Divine Dragon like-!”

“It’s alright Vander.” Alear put up a hand to silence him. “Céline, may I have Soren’s bracelet? I would like to talk to him alone.”

For a moment, the princess hesitated. Soren could sense that she wanted to be a part of whatever argument he and Alear were about to have, but she eventually slipped his bracelet off her wrist and handed it to the Divine Dragon. With that, Alear exited the tent and delved into the trees, away from the camp and away from the cathedral. Soren seethed as he floated beside her, but waited until she came to a stop and turned to him.

“Well?” the sage hissed.

Alear inhaled deeply, whether to swallow her nerves or her wrath Soren didn’t particularly care to decipher which. “I decided I did not have the right to decide-”

Soren snarled “Of course you have the right to decide! You’re this army’s commander!”

“I may be the commander, but I have met – no – spoken to King Morion twice. I have no right to decide his fate when his sons are-!”

“You gave the decision to them!? Were you seriously expecting them to think rationally when their father is on the line?!”

“Of course not!” That stunned Soren into silence. “But I couldn’t take away their chance to save their father!” Tears were building in the dragon’s eyes. “I… I know exactly what they’re going through. If someone had told me that going after my mother was too dangerous, I would have done it anyway. At least this way they have the army’s full support. At least… at least they stand a chance at saving him. I… I can’t make them go through what I have…”

Soren sighed, running a hand down his face. “So that’s why. For the love of- Sometimes I think Ashera had a point! No one ever thinks clearly when emotions are involved!”

“Oh, come on, Soren! Have a heart! Wouldn’t you do the same for your parents, given the chance?”

“Absolutely not.” Before Alear could cut in, Soren continued, “Whoever gave birth to me tossed me aside like I was nothing to them and into a world that hated me for existing. I have long deduced who exactly they were and, before you say anything, I helped kill the madman I suspect to be my birthfather. And as for that woman,” a draconic hiss slipped through his teeth “the less said about her, the better. So, no. Unlike the rest of you, I am unshackled from any familial relationships that would cause me to make idiotic decisions.”

Alear looked stunned at the revelation. Or at least, that’s what Soren thought until she whispered, “You’re a dragon too?”

Soren flinched back “What, exactly, gave you that ridiculous idea!?” He had to resist covering up the brand on his forehead. He’d only ever told the other Emblems about the beorc, laguz and branded of Tellius; how did she-!?

“The snarling and hissing like a seething wyvern. The red eyes currently narrowed into slits. The fact you’re literally baring your teeth at me.”

Dammit. Soren really needed to get a grip! Nevermind the other stuff; if his eyes had changed, he’d really lost it. The sage buried his fingers in his thick sleeves, squeezing the material until his nails were digging into his arms beneath the fabric. It was grounding. He could almost hear Ike counting his breathes as he forced himself to calm down. It had taken almost an entire beorc lifetime for the two to master pulling themselves out of their own heads in moments of panic or wrath.

Soren couldn’t help but snarl even as he tried to reign in his emotions, “Half, actually. Just another symptom of my cursed bloodline, another reason to despise the two people who brought me into this world.”

Alear opened her mouth as if to protest, then slowly closed it again, dismissing whatever rebuttal she had come up with.

After a moment, Soren sighed and said “Forgive me for losing my composure. I am simply frustrated that you seem unable to understand what a perilous situation this is. That you would risk the lives of your allies over mere emotions, is simply something I cannot comprehend.”

“Really?” she sounded like she didn’t believe him in the slightest. “You cannot understand at all why I came to this decision?”

“I understand your personal brand of logic behind it, but I cannot personally relate, no.”

“Not even… if Ike was in King Morion’s place?”

Soren had half a mind to start shouting at her again, for even implying that Ike would ever be weak enough to require rescuing, for insinuating that Soren wouldn’t be willing to save him if it ever came to that, for any number of insulting connotations that came with that question. And yet, instead, it was like something finally clicked into place. He already knew the answer to Alear’s question, and he didn’t like it, not one bit.

~*~

The battle had dragged on for hours…

Both sides were exhausted but refused to lay down their arms. The Laguz Alliance against Daein, two powerful armies spurred on by a legendary hero as their commander. Swords, lances and axes clashed, shattering armour and tearing at flesh. Arrows whizzed through the air, piercing weak points and bringing even the best soldiers to their knees. Beasts and birds tore at the Daein forces, the claws of the laguz far sharper than any animal’s. Magic of all types cut and struck and exploded all around the battlefield, sowing chaos until not an iota of order was left.

And in the centre of it all, a swordsman and a mage lead the charge.

In one swing, the Hero of Crimea, Ike, cut down a Daein paladin, throwing both the knight and their steed to the ground. It may not compare to the blessed blade Ragnell, but Ettard hadn’t failed him yet. A wyvern knight hovered over Ike, readying their javelin, only to be struck by two bolts of consecutive lightning and plummet to the ground, the fallen beast blocking the path of more soldiers that would try to claim the glory of slaying the great war hero. Ike glanced back at Soren, who was already shoving his thunder tome back into it’s holster and retrieving one of his more familiar wind tomes. An axeman rushed the mage, but Ike stepped in between them before Soren could even begin uttering his incantation. The soldier was dead before he hit the mud. Soren stepped forward to stand beside Ike, releasing a windstorm at three incoming halberdiers.

The swordsman and the mage had a split second to meet each other’s eyes before they dived back into combat. The two didn’t need to exchange words. A single look between the two was all it took to communicate everything that needed to be said.

I won’t let them near you.

Stay by my side.

I’ll protect you.

So the two rushed into the fray, fighting by each other’s side like they always had. They just needed to push the enemy line a bit further. For their plan to work, they needed to take out the chain of command for this branch of the Daein army. That way, once the real trap was sprung, there would be no one to wrangle the panicked soldiers back into formation, no one to come up with an effective countermeasure.

It would’ve been perfect if a mass of clunking black armour didn’t block their path. The Black Knight, wielding the legendary blade Alondite, took the field and placed himself in between Ike and their goal. He was less intimidating than he had been three years ago; a growth spurt and a surge of satisfaction knowing the dents in that armour had been Ike’s doing, made the once insurmountable foe seem just that bit weaker. Slightly. It was still daunting to look upon one of the Four Riders of old Daein.

“So the rumours are true. You are alive.” Ike spoke plainly, as if he didn’t care whether the knight lived or died. In reality, from where Soren was fending off a platoon of wyvern knights, he could see how Ike’s body tensed, how he readjusted his grip on Ettard so he was prepared to parry an incoming attack.

“Did you think you could kill me with that level of swordsmanship?”

“No. But I thought the castle that fell on you would at least finish you off.”

Over the screams of battle, a metallic chuckle could be heard. “I refuse to fall to such circumstances. I will not be satisfied until I see you wield Gawain’s fighting style at its fullest potential.”

“And I will not fall until I can lift the burdens on my heart you placed on me the night you killed him!”

“Then I have some good news for you, son of Gawain.” The Black Knight traced one of the deep slashes in his armour with his free gauntlet. “After our previous battle, the blessings on my armour were lost. You do not need Ragnell for this to be a fair fight.”

“Good.” Ike fluidly slid into his familiar offensive stance, Ettard gleaming in the limited sunlight. “May this be the day I finally cut you down, for certain this time!”

“Come then. Let us see if you have what it takes.”

The moment the two swordsmen clashed, it was like the rest of the battlefield faded away. Yes, laguz and beorc still fought around them, but it was as if all of Tellius was aware of the bad blood between the two warriors and gave them a wide berth in which to do battle. Even the rest of the Greil Mercenaries, who shared in their commander’s grief and rage, focused on the rest of Daein’s forces, refusing anyone the chance to interfere in the duel. Even Soren, who had ordered and screamed and physically had to be held back by Titania the last time Ike had faced the knight, simply watched from close by, both worried for his lover and silently cheering him on. Ike was strong enough. He would win this, there was no doubt in his mind.

Alondite and Ettard sang, their wielders putting all of their strength into every strike. They parried and dodged, both of them knowing each other’s openings and weaknesses and yet never managing to take advantage of them. Steel rang out against steel, the two in an eternal stalemate.

Until, suddenly, they weren’t.

The enemy commander, the original target, suddenly shouted over the battlefield, “Ready your bows! Aim for the enemy’s general!”

That was all the warning Ike had before a barrage of arrows rained upon him and The Black Knight. Most of the arrows missed or bounced off armour, but three lucky hits lodged themselves in Ike’s flesh: one in his bare shoulder, another in his thigh and the last piercing through the leather bracer on his forearm. None of them struck anything vital, but that didn’t mean they weren’t painful or crippling. Ike’s injured leg faltered, and the hero sunk into the mud, barely catching himself on his knees by plunging his blade into the soil and leaning his weight against it.

“End of the line. A shame your life had to end like this.” The knight mused as he raised Alondite.

Ike refused to respond. Rather, he tried to push himself to his feet, only to find no strength in his arm and that his leg wouldn’t support his weight. He grit his teeth as the pain spiked, refusing to give his enemy the satisfaction of hearing him in pain. It was taking all of his willpower just to stay upright and stare defiantly at the knight. The Black Knight brought the blade down on Crimea’s hero.

“Ike!”

Only for the blade to never touch him.

For a moment, Ike couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. Soren had placed himself between him and the Black Knight and Alondite was hovering in the air, a mere inch above the sage’s face. The tactician’s hair and robes floated around him, the very picture of grace, as he clutched his rarely used Arcwind tome in one hand, the pages fluttering and the ancient text glowing brightly as the sage whispered the ancient tongue under his breath. Instead of creating blades of wind to slice apart his foes, green glowing tendrils of air wrapped around Alondite, like a living sheath, stopping the legendary blade in its path to Ike’s throat, or the new obstacle in its path: Soren’s brand. The blade quivered in place as the knight and sage fought for control over the sword.

“Soren! Get back!”

“So, you’re the tactician known as The Hero’s Shadow. For someone so supposedly intelligent, this is quite the precarious situation you have put yourself in.” The knight attempted to pull back Alondite to attempt another swing, only to find he couldn’t move the sword in any direction at all. “Do you truly intend to die for him?”

The sage didn’t appear to hear either of them. The Black Knight put even more weight behind the sword, but the winds just became stronger, pushing it back ever so slightly.

“Soren, move! He’ll kill you!” Desperation crept into Ike’s voice. He tried to rise again, but he could barely grip his sword, nevermind climb to his feet.

Suddenly, Soren rose his voice, his chanting becoming audible, and he thrust his free hand towards the sky. A maelstrom rocketed from the ground below, all concentrated on the legendary blade. In one swift motion, Alondite was wrenched from the knight’s hands and was lost in the skirmishes behind the Daein general. Soren quickly brought his hand down again, the ancient tongue like a battle cry, and a blade of air pushed the armoured knight backwards until he was backed up against the edge of their makeshift arena, his plated boots digging shallow trenches in the grass.

Soren’s determined visage relaxed ever so slightly, his keen eyes following the knight’s every movement as a gauntlet flew to the sheath at his side. “Perhaps you should consider bringing multiple weapons to the battlefield. Just a thought.” A hint of smugness entered the sage’s voice.

It was difficult to decipher The Black Knight’s body language with all that armour, but Soren liked to think the small pause in between his words and the knight turning and pushing his way through the swathes of soldiers, was one of shock and confusion. It was hardly a victory – Soren was merely delaying the inevitable confrontation – and yet the tactician took pride in forcing the feared warrior into retreating, however temporary it was.

Soren turned back to his hero. Ike was still watching where the knight had disappeared to, pure disbelief on his face. The sage quickly tucked his most powerful tome back into his robes. “Ike, you need to pull out the arrows. This isn’t over yet.” Ike snapped back to reality, nodded at his partner and tugged out the arrow in his shoulder, biting back a curse. Soren retrieved the mend staff he always carried on his back, crouched down and set about healing Ike’s wounds the moment the wooden shafts were discarded. The blue soothing light of the staff was warm and calming, stitching Ike’s skin back together as best he could afford in the middle of a battlefield.

Almost the moment Soren was done casting, Ike’s eyes flickered over his lover’s shoulder, then widened. He wrapped his free arm around Soren’s waist and dove to the side, landing awkwardly on his back with Soren pressed to his chest, just as a shockwave of pure energy rocketed past them. The two pulled themselves up from where they were sprawled on the ground and looked back at where they had been crouched milliseconds before, to see the silver pieces of the shattered mend staff and a deep trench in the grass. If Ike had reacted a second later…

The Black Knight stalked towards them, having retrieved Alondite.

“That trick will not work again.” The knight declared.

“It doesn’t need to!” replied Ike, pulling both of them to their feet and settling into a defensive stance, shielding Soren behind him.

Before the fight could start again, the sound of battle cries echoed above the usual sounds of bloodshed, all from behind the Daein general. Reinforcements were laying waste to the Daein army. The strategy was as effective as the Laguz Alliance hoped it would be. A white stallion cut through the infantry and came to a stop beside Ike and Soren just long enough for the two to climb up. Titania’s loyal steed was more than strong enough to carry three as they galloped away from The Black Knight.

It wasn’t long before what was left of Daein’s forces were being called to retreat.

That night, curled up in their cot in their shared tent, the two lovers would recall that moment. Soren would lightly scold Ike for being immobilised by three tiny shafts of wood, while gently stroking over the red welts that would fade into scars by the morning. Ike would return his disguised concerns, asking why the sage felt the need to place himself in between the legendary blade and Ike, when he could’ve easily cast that spell from a safe distance. Instead of answering the question – as they both knew the answer anyway – Soren thanked his lover for saving him and remarked on how he’d have to add more mend staffs to the budget. Ike muttered that he was only returning the favour into Soren’s hair as he gently removed the clasps and ran his fingers through his ebony locks.

That would be neither the first nor the last time Soren would put sentiment over strategy for Ike.

~*~

Soren sighed. “I... understand now. I concede to your point.”

“…You do?” her tone was both suspicious and surprised. Perhaps she thought that, even if she was right, he would never admit to it.

“You’re correct. Over the years, I have made decisions that risked my own wellbeing and even the lives of others, if it meant saving my husband. The consequences didn’t matter to me as long as he was safe. I suppose that makes me a hypocrite…”

“I don’t think so.” interjected Alear. “I know exactly where you’re coming from. By all accounts, this course of action might be the worst path I can take, with the least to gain and the most to lose. When we’re the ones without the emotional connection, such reckless actions can appear to be idiotic, as you put it earlier. But such emotions can also push people into doing the impossible! And personally, I think that is a risk worth taking.”

After a moment of deliberation, Soren came to his decision. “Know that I still don’t approve of this path, but I will not object again.” Before Alear could celebrate, Soren floated closer and stuck a finger in her face. “However! If we’re going to do this, we need to do this right. You need to make sure every single soldier you bring into that cathedral is the best they can be. I will inform the other Emblems that they need to hold themselves to the same standard and support their partners fully. And, most important of all, if myself or the other Emblems give you advice, you – as the commander of this army – need to heed it. Have I made myself clear?”

Alear nodded “Very clear, Emblem Soren.”

Soren nodded in satisfaction and was about to disappear, when he remembered something. “Also, Alear. Do not tell anyone about my heritage, or my outburst earlier. That is a personal matter that, frankly, I wouldn’t have trusted you with had I been of sound mind at the time.”

“I gathered that. But, regardless, I will respect your wishes.” Alear nodded.

With that, Soren returned to his bracelet, not satisfied with the outcome, but not as furious as before.

~*~

All things considered, breaking down the doors and entering the building was surprisingly easy. The Divine One’s eleven most trusted stayed by her side as they fought their way deeper inside, making use of the twelve Emblems they wielded. Diamant and Roy led the charge, engulfing their enemies in flames as the Elusian royal guard struggled to so much as scratch the fury-driven crown prince. Alcryst and the house leaders were close behind, sniping and slicing at any enemies that got close to his brother. Alear and Marth stayed close to the brothers, occasionally giving out orders to help support their advance.

Chloé and Sigurd scouted ahead, only to return with three pieces of bad news. Princess Hortensia was guarding the final door into the audience chamber and altar, and she had an Emblem; Byleth. This only seemed to spur the commanders onward, all of them were determined to recover one of the stolen rings, but no one more so than Edelgard, Dimitri and Claude. They refused to leave their beloved teacher in the hands of the enemy. Chloé had managed to scan the audience chamber through a stained-glass window, and she saw that King Hyacinth was accompanied by a corrupted Lyn. Roy doubled his and Diamant’s efforts, determined to help the woman he saw as an aunt.

But the last thing she had seen almost froze the commanders in their tracks. She’d seen King Morion. She’d seen him standing, unrestrained, with a sword in hand. She’d seen him standing with Elusian soldiers, ready to fight the Divine One’s forces if they made it past Hortensia. She’d seen him, somehow, standing both tall and limp, weakened and yet still somehow strong, with glowing red eyes and pained growls falling from his lips.

It was obvious what had happened. They already knew that the ritual had succeeded. Their whole reason for being here was already dead. Céline moved to take out an armoured knight near the commanders and their scout, Soren and the princess’ combined wind magic felling the enemy unit easily.

“Order a retreat!” Soren called to the commanders. “If King Morion is one of the Corrupted, there’s no saving him. We should retreat now before we lose any more soldiers.”

It was not what they wanted to hear.

“If Father has been corrupted… Then its my job to give him a warrior’s end!” Prince Diamant declared.

Soren wanted to send a burst of Rexcalibur at him. Céline would never allow it, but it would be so satisfying to knock some sense into this delusional man. He looked to Alear, silently imploring her to listen to reason.

She addressed her allies around her. “Alcryst, Céline, I need you two to take out Hortensia. Try to take Byleth from her while you’re at it. Yunaka, try to get that door open. Chloé, lead me and Diamant to King Morion.”

Roy spoke up, “Sigurd, keep Chloé moving. You know how good Lyn is with a bow.”

Sigurd nodded. At the behest of the commanders, Sigurd explained, “Lyn uses a Killer Bow and Mulagir, two incredibly powerful bows. Her Astra Storm ability will rain five arrows on an individual from a distance away similar to a ballista. Being hit by one of Lyn’s arrows spells disaster for a pegasus knight; Being hit by Astra Storm is certain death.” He turned to address Chloé directly, “I will keep us out of her range.”

It was clear that these royals would not be listening to him. Soren was tempted to stay silent out of spite but… the best course of action was to help this army get out of this alive. Soren swallowed his pride and turned to Alear. “Lyn can only perform Astra Storm once while she’s corrupted. I suggest baiting it out with one of your sturdier units before confronting either king. I suggest Prince Alfred and Leif or Hector’s current partner – Jade I believe her name was.”

Upon hearing his name, the Prince of Firene trotted over. “I’ll be able to keep pace with Chloé and Sigurd.”

Leif appeared next to Alfred. “Hector may have known her before Elyos, but he is unfamiliar with Lyn’s capabilities as an Emblem. Between myself and Unc- Sir Sigurd, we can better judge which spots are safe from her arrows.”

“And the further away Uncle Hector is from Aunt Lyn, the better.” agreed Roy, looking rather solemn. “The less he has to see of his wife under the corruption of a Fell Dragon, the better…”

“If everyone knows their roles; Move out!” commanded Alear. The other soldiers split into their groups then marched through the doors into the innermost part of the cathedral. Alfred pulled Yunaka up onto his stallion and he and Chloé rode ahead, Diamant close behind. It wasn’t until Soren realised Alear was supposed to go with them did he notice her looking at him, a guilty look on her face. “I’m sorry-”

“Save your apologies.” Soren cut her off. He glanced from Alear, to Alcryst to Diamant and Roy charging ahead, then continued, “Earlier, you reminded me of something important about the nature of humanity; that emotions are what drive us, and with the right motivation, they are capable of the impossible. Anger can start wars, self-righteousness can cripple an empire, a single act of kindness can save a soul, and a sense of justice and utterly selfless love can even kill the goddess that created us.”

Alear looked shocked “You make that sound like you actually-!”

Soren cut her off “Ike and Micaiah tell that story much better than I do. Anyway, what I mean to say is, if you believe that familial love, the love between a son and a father is strong enough, I have no choice but to put my faith in that love. Don’t make me regret this.”

Alear slowly smiled. “Thank you, Emblem Soren.” With that, the Divine Dragon ran off to catch up with the rest of the group.

Céline smiled up at her partner. “That was refreshingly honest of you, Soren.”

“I just said what she needed to hear. We can’t be led by a general with no faith in her own plan. I don’t actually believe it myself.” Soren deflected.

Claude appeared from his bracelet, startling Alcryst (again) “Look at you trying to play coy! Denial isn’t a good look for you Soren!”

The sage glared at the student, “Don’t push it.”

“If you’ll forgive me for saying so, Emblem Soren,” Alcryst spoke up. The prince was shaking ever so slightly. “I think what Emblem Claude meant to say is that there is no need to deny your feelings on the matter. We can tell that you wouldn’t have allowed this course of action if you truly believed we were doomed.” It took the prince a moment to muster up his courage to continue speaking “While my opinion and gratitude towards you is likely worthless to you, I would still like to thank you for helping myself and Diamant, despite your reservations. Your rage earlier in the strategy tent was rather scary if completely justified and I’m eternally grateful that you and the Divine Dragon could come to an understanding on the matter.”

Soren had found it odd, from the moment he met the second prince of Brodia, just how much a noble could grovel at the feet of everyone and everything. It was refreshing considering all the nobles he had been forced to deal with in Tellius. He was tempted to say something harsh towards the cowardly prince but bit his tongue in an attempt to save whatever was left of the prince’s self-esteem. “I accept your gratitude.” He said simply, before gliding forward, a hint to the princess he was tethered to, to get moving. “But we should discuss this later. Right now, we have a pegasus knight to knock out of the sky. I suggest a flanking manoeuvre. Prince Alcryst, Claude, approach Princess Hortensia from the west side. Myself and Princess Céline will approach from the east. Céline, do be precise with your wind magic, you do not want to knock their arrows off-course.”

“Sounds good. Let’s save the professor already!” Claude agreed, readying Failnaught.

Just as the prince and his three emblems moved to comply with Soren’s plans, Céline gave her Emblem a look. Soren sighed and stared at her, “What is it?”

Céline’s smile just grew “Nothing, I am simply appreciating how you’re coming out of your shell. I look forward to getting to know you a bit better, Emblem Soren.”

“Save the pleasantries for after the battle, Princess.”

By the time they had felled Princess Hortensia, who managed to escape again with the Emblem (this time on the back of her retainer’s wyvern to the back of the cathedral), most of the fighting by the entrance to the altar was done. King Morion’s corpse was lifeless once more on the tile floor, Prince Diamant leaning over his father, closing the king’s eyes as tears refused to fall from his own.

~*~

With a lot of effort and half of Alear’s most trusted soldiers ganging up on the king of Elusia, the Divine Dragon’s forces finally won the battle. Still, it didn’t feel like a victory. As Diamant moved to deal the final blow to King Hyacinth, a wave of dark magic pushed him back. Standing behind the defeated king was a short figure in a billowing black cloak accented with pink patterns that resembled claw marks. From what Soren was able to gather of the following conversation, this was the person who had murdered the previous Divine Dragon Monarch, Queen Lumera, Alear’s mother. He could barely focus on the revelation, however, as this cycle’s Fell Dragon, Lord Sombron, rose from the altar and approached the king who had orchestrated his revival.

Only to swallow the man whole.

The Emblems had seen Fell Dragons commit atrocities of all kinds before, and yet it never got easier to see just how vile these dark drakes could be. Roy and Hector were the only ones who seemed to notice Lyn’s dropped ring, which had narrowly escaped being consumed along with King Hyacinth and rolled across the tiles until it was lost in the pews. Still, with a fully unleashed dragon in front of them, no one moved to collect it. The unknown mage laughed in amusement and in a fit of rage, Princess Hortensia slapped them across the face, dislodging the hood that concealed their identity.

Apparently, Alear recognised Veyle, the newly introduced Fell Princess, but had considered her a friend, not the cruel murderer that stood before them now. Yet… Veyle didn’t seem to recognise her in return. It didn’t appear to be an act to hurt the Divine Dragon. This reveal was just raising more questions than answers. No one had time to contemplate the matter, as Sombron ordered his daughter the take the Emblems and four powerful looking soldiers – introducing themselves as The Four Hounds – entered from the same doors the Divine Dragon’s Forces had entered through, surrounding them and blocking off their escape route. It didn’t deter Alear though and she ordered everyone to engage and push their way past the Hounds.

It was a slaughter.

Even with all twelve Emblems engaged, they were nothing compared to the strength of two Fell Dragons and their hand-picked generals. Caught between all six of them and an army of Corrupted, they didn’t stand a chance. The Divine Dragon’s forces were cut down like wheat and with every body that hit the floor, a ring or a bracelet would be seized. Once the Emblems were forcefully disengaged, they could do nothing but watch in horror as their vessels were pulled away from their partners. Now held by their enemy, swords refused to be removed from their sheaths, tomes would refuse to open, legendary bows were suddenly unaccompanied by arrows, axes were too heavy to lift, staves refused to light up with magic and lances were suddenly unbalanced and firmly planted themselves within the tile floor. The Emblems were made helpless by the first rule of their existence; they could not attack the person in possession of their vessel, or their allies.

Not for a lack of trying, mind you. Hector strained to lift Wolf Beil, the axe suddenly so heavy he couldn’t even get it off the floor. Roy struggled in vain as he tried to remove his Lancereaver from his sheath, even removing the weapon from his belt and trying to put all his strength into prying the metal and leather apart. Camilla clawed at the covers of her Lightning tome, the usually frail pages refusing to budge as if they’d been glued together.

Even if Soren couldn’t open his tome, he should’ve been able to channel the spirits directly. He wasn’t a Spirit Charmer, so he wouldn’t be able to do much, but a spark of thunder magic, a flicker of fire magic or a breeze of wind magic would’ve sufficed. And yet, as he concentrated, as he allowed his senses to see the shining elemental spirits that always whirled around him, allowed himself to hear their whispers, they refused to come to his aid.  As he tried to reach for them, they would flutter away and yet he could feel their anguish, their desperation; they wanted to be channelled, they always did, but something was forcing them away. Soren glanced over at Micaiah. Her mournful gaze lifted from the bodies of their allies and met his own. She shook her head. The light spirits couldn’t reach her either.

Soren had never hated being an Emblem as much as he did in that moment.

Veyle walked between all the bodies, uncaring of the blood that stained the soles of her bare feet, seemingly inspecting their work. As she neared Alear’s body, she let out a giggle and a singsong “Oh, there it is!” She snatched something from the Divine Dragon’s belt.

Soren recognised the crystalline trinket as the Draconic Time Crystal, a device which Alear had apparently used to great effect before. No one ever remembered her using it, due to its nature. Instead, they knew of its capabilities via Alear suddenly changing a well-thought-out plan because “It didn’t work very well last time,” or she was suddenly absolutely certain that reinforcements were incoming, and she had to warn the back lines before they appeared. Only Marth or Tiki had ever experienced the time crystal’s powers, as they were the Emblems Alear liked to allocate herself and would be rewound with her whenever she felt the need to correct a mistake. It had apparently saved this army many times. Looking at it in the hands of the Fell Princess filled the Emblems with dread.

“That was far too quick for my liking. They barely felt the fear of death, the hopelessness of certain failure. What is the point in such a quick boring victory? I suggest we try this again.” She held up the crystal and Sombron’s head bent down to have a closer look, his viper-like tongue scenting the air around it as if he could taste the powerful magic it held.

With a dark, distorted chuckle, Sombron agreed “Very well. The rest of you, give your rings or bracelets to Veyle, so they shall be rewound with her.”

At first, this seemed like an opportunity; one slip while passing the vessels to each other and the dropped Emblem would be able to fight back, hopefully freeing the others in the process. That idea was dashed when Veyle used dark magic to levitate the vessels. Despite the fact that the rings and the bracelets were hovering above her hand, their weapons still wouldn’t budge; whether this was because it was a side effect of the dark magic cradling them, or the fact that, despite no physical contact, the Emblems were still in Veyle’s ‘possession’, wasn’t clear.

Once Veyle had all the vessels, she used her other hand to activate the Draconic Time Crystal and take them back to the moment that Alear had ordered her allies to engage and fight their way out of the cathedral. Before their eyes, the massacre from before played out in reverse, corpses springing back to their feet and wounds seemingly being healed as blades and magic undid their damage and returned to their source. For the briefest of moments, relief flooded through the Emblems, just seeing their allies and friends breathe again. The moment was ruined when Alear gave out the command again, only for her and her allies to look at their fingers and their wrists in confusion and panic. To them, it must have appeared as if the rings and bracelets disappeared from one blink to the next.

“Something the matter?” taunted Veyle. Holding up the crystal. It had faded from it’s usual blue and red sheen to a dull grey. The Fell Princess must have used the last charge. She wouldn’t be saving their lives again.

Alear’s hands flew to her belt, where the crystal had been pinned, to her, a moment ago. “The Draconic Time Crystal! How did you-!? You used it!?”

Veyle rolled her eyes, “Yes. I did. And now all your rings belong to us. These bracelets are a nice addition too… I have no idea how you got your hands on more Emblems, but since you were so kind to collect them for us, I couldn’t help but take those too.”

“Give… Give them back!” Alear pleaded, her gaze not on the Fell Princess but on the Emblems floating behind her against their will, fear and worry etched on her face. “E-everyone! Get the Emblems back at any cost! A-attack… Attack Ve- the Fell Princess!”

As their allies reached for their weapons, two voices echoed through the cathedral.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Veyle cautioned smugly.

“Stop! Don’t even think about attacking!” Marth commanded sharply.

The Divine Dragon’s forces froze and Alear stuttered out “B-but, why?!”

The Fell Princess glanced over her shoulder at the Hero-King. “Yes, Marth. Why shouldn’t they attack me?” That smile… That damn smile! She was really going to make them explain it!?

“Because… Because you don’t stand a chance of winning.” Marth stated solemnly.

A look of determination crossed the Divine Dragon’s face, “We won’t know until-!”

“We do know!” shouted Robin, before their allies could do anything stupid.

“Please, just listen to us!” Celica pleaded, seeing that their allies were still prepared to fight.

No one else was willing to say it, but it appeared that the only way to stop their friends from dying a second painful death would be the truth. So, Soren explained, “Do you think she just stole the crystal and our vessels while you were distracted!? You’ve already attacked! And all of you were killed!” That got a few gasps of horror, and some of their allies lowered their weapons. “Then she used the last charge of the crystal to take us back to this moment! She won’t revive you again!”

“Do not throw your lives away!” Sigurd commanded.

Veyle laughed, satisfied with the Emblems’ words “What a heart-felt speech! Are you really going to ignore their pleas?”

What little hope Alear had died, and Libération slipped from her fingers, loudly clattering against the floor, as despair took hold. “N-no… there has to be…” she half-heartedly protested.

“As fun as this has been, there’s one thing left we must do.” Veyle continued. “Father, the rings and the bracelets.”

The vessels, still encased in the Fell Princess’ dark magic floated up to Sombron’s maw.

“Well done. Now to purge them of any trace of Divine Dragon power.”

Shivers went up Soren’s spine; it felt like the Fell Dragon was breathing down his neck. He wasn’t the only one, most of the other Emblems were trembling or frantically looking around for anything that could help them. Some of the others, like Chrom and Leif, went back to trying to draw their weapons, only for Chrom’s Falchion to be sealed in its sheath and Leif’s Killer Axe dropped to the floor, immovable.

They’d… lost…

“Shine on, Emblem of Beginnings.”

Marth’s pained screams shattered the tense silence, as he clutched his head and writhed in place. The blue glow that surrounded his body suddenly flashed black and enveloped his body. When it cleared, all of his colour had drained out and been replaced with crimson red, diluted gold and pitch black. The light drained from his eyes as he straightened his posture. All free will and emotions were purged along with Alear’s divine power, and the leader of the Emblems floated there, nothing more than a powerful tool to be used.

“Marth! Speak to me! Marth!” called Alear desperately. Marth didn’t even turn to face her.

“Provide for us, Emblem of the Holy War.”

Sigurd choked back a shout, doubling over in pain. Leif suddenly couldn’t care less about his axe and reached for his uncle, his body refusing to rush to the suffering knight’s side no matter how much the young prince wanted it to. “Sigurd! Please, hold on! Uncle!”

For just a moment, Sigurd’s eyes flicked to his nephew and shakily met his gaze. Through the pain, he breathed “Leif…” the final word he spoke before Sombron’s corruption took hold.

“Care for us, Emblem of Echoes.”

As Celica choked on her breath, the royal Firene siblings shouted in despair. The Emblem their kingdom had protected, the Emblem that, even while she was asleep, still watched over them as children and soothed their worries, was now being taken away from them. That selfless kindness was now lost to the will of the Fell Dragon.

“Heal us, Emblem of Dawn.”

Even though Soren still wasn’t overly fond of her, he couldn’t watch Micaiah succumb to corruption with a clear conscience. They had only talked briefly after Soren had joined the Divine Dragon, but it had been nice to talk to someone who he shared a past with. It had been refreshing to tell stories about his time in Tellius and have someone know exactly what he was talking about and vice versa. It was nice to have someone who would understand him on a fundamental level, from his scarred heart to the blood running through his veins. Sorrow flooded through his heart. She… she didn’t deserve this. Her heart was the best thing about her, she didn’t deserve to have it stripped away!

Even though Soren said nothing, Micaiah and he locked gazes and the smallest smile tugged at her lips. With her power inherited from her heron ancestor, she could sense him mourning her. It was bittersweet; the two only realised they truly cared for each other as their ability to care was taken away.

“Free us, Emblem of Genealogy.”

Leif hadn’t said a word since Sigurd had been corrupted. He silently accepted his fate, almost welcoming the forceful end to his emotions. At least now, he didn’t have to feel the loss.

“Rise up, Emblem of Binding.”

While the Brodian princes were devastated, losing both their father and their Emblem – their pillar of strength and a treasured friend – within minutes of each other; no one was more distraught than Hector. Curses spilled from his mouth, with no regard to his own safety, demanding Sombron stop hurting his nephew, even as it was too late.

All six of the ring Emblems were corrupted. It would soon be their turn next. After everything they had been through to get up to this point, they’d lost. Even if The Divine Dragon’s forces could escape with their lives, how were they supposed to fight seventeen Emblems?! No amount of human spirit or speeches about believing in yourself could overpower that! There had to be something he could do!

“Lead us, Emblem of Rivals.”

The three students squirmed in their shared agony, Failnaught joining Aymr and Areadbhar on the floor as Claude’s concentration faltered. Something about the legendary bow jogged Soren’s memory. Lyn. She was still corrupted, but if Alear got her hands on the ring she could purify her. Sure, it would still be sixteen Emblems against one, but it was something!

Soren glanced over at the pews where he had seen her ring roll, only to see someone crouched over the defenceless Emblem. That dark cloak was familiar, but Soren had never seen this person put the hood on before, like it was now. Sensing the Emblem’s gaze upon him, the man looked up, revealing his face. It was Princess Ivy’s retainer, Zelkov – if Soren remembered correctly – the thief whose skills with a dagger were too similar to Volke’s for this man to not be an assassin also.

The last time they had met, he was still loyal to Ivy, the princess that was supposed to have given her life to stop their advance, only for Alear to let her go. She claimed she was going to stay neutral in the conflict, but she’d be a fool not to take a side now. The question was, which one would she take? The Fell Dragon or the Divine Dragon? The winning side, or the losing side? The path of survival, or the path of avenging her father? Zelkov had surely seen Sombron devour King Hyacinth if he knew where the ring had fell, he’d have to report that to the princess.

The two held each other’s gaze. They had no other way to communicate; even just acknowledging the thief’s presence could get him killed. Soren stared at the ring. Silently, Zelkov picked up Lyn’s vessel. Soren glanced between the two dragons and raised an eyebrow, hoping the thief would pick up on the silent question. Whose side are you on?  

Zelkov briefly glanced at the dragon too distracted by his victory to notice a shadow slinking around the church, a disgusted look on his face. Then he glanced at Alear and her allies, too overcome with horror and their own helplessness to notice the exchange. While Zelkov’s face appeared neutral, it was leagues better than the grimace he had sent the Fell Dragon. He then returned his gaze to Soren. He carefully slipped Lyn’s ring into a hidden pocket, then lifted up his coat to reveal a dagger, raising an eyebrow as he did so. Should I step in?

As subtly as possible, Soren shook his head, then made the smallest shooing motion with his hand. No. Leave. Escape while you can.

Zelkov nodded and disappeared into the shadows.

Soren expected to hear “Dream well, Emblem of Dragons.” next, but instead, Sombron hissed, “Embolden us, Emblem of Strength.”

Soren could barely hear Hector continue his tirade over his own thoughts. Tiki always went before Hector no matter what order the Bracelet Emblems were put in. And – wait a moment – he didn’t hear her when Marth was corrupted. Tiki would’ve been an emotional wreck, sobbing over her Mar-Mar being brainwashed. Soren quickly looked around him. The Fódlan lords, Hector, himself, Camilla, Chrom and Robin and Veronica. That was six. Where was their seventh?

Next to him, Hector finally succumbed to the dark drake’s power. Alear’s terrified gaze flicked over to Soren knowing he was next. Before anyone else could turn their attention to him, Soren mouthed Tiki, to the Divine Dragon. It took a moment for Alear to decipher Soren’s attempt to communicate, but the moment it registered, a hand flew to a pouch on her belt. Of course! Only twelve of the army’s best had made it into the cathedral, which left one Emblem unaccounted for. Alear must have brought Tiki with her, knowing something could go wrong, hoping to use Tiki as a backup. Since the Bracelet Emblems were still new to this Elyos, the Four Hounds and the Fell Dragons hadn’t noticed they’d missed one, expecting each soldier they cut down to be wearing their Emblem, not concealing it on their person. That made two against fifteen. Still not good odds (not even close) but still better than before.

It also gave her a way of getting their army out alive.

Throwing caution to the wind, Soren screamed “Engage and clear the way for the others! Run now! Live to fight another day!”

Before anyone could stop her, Alear wrenched Tiki’s bracelet out of the pouch, shoved it on her wrist and the two engaged in a massive flash of light, blinding the entire room. When it cleared, a golden Divine Dragon was hovering above her allies. Alear wasted no time and used her tail to swat the Four Hounds out of the way, their bodies crashing into and utterly destroying some of the wooden pews, creating an opening and an escape route.

“Retreat!” Alear roared, leading the way out of the cathedral. Her allies didn’t hesitate and bolted after her, leaving those remaining by the altar stunned and confused.

“I’ll have to hand it to her; I didn’t expect that.” Veyle broke the silence.

“You fools! How could you miss one!?” Lord Sombron hissed as the Four Hounds rose to their feet.

“My apologies Father. As I am the only one of us that remembers collecting the Emblems, the responsibility is mine.” Veyle spoke calmly, unfazed by her father’s wrath. “To compensate, I will take these new Emblems and hunt them down myself.”

“Yes, that will do. Make sure to take the Emblem of Dragons while you do so. To have all seven of these otherworldly Emblems… Perhaps they can lend me the same power that the twelve rings possess.” Sombron bent down until his snout was in Soren’s face, “Make sure you use the Emblem of Acumen to his full potential. Nothing will destroy their hope more than using the one Emblem that helped them escape to hunt them down.”

Soren said nothing, hoping his glare was enough to convey his utter loathing for the beast that was trying to intimidate him. Sombron hissed again, displeased at the sage’s lack of reaction. The dark drake was consumed by a black fog and when it cleared Sombron was standing in his humanoid form. Apparently there was no need for the overgrown lizard to try and intimidate the enemy anymore. He snatched Soren’s bracelet out of the dark cloud still hovering above Veyle’s hand, stalked over to the Emblem that had cost them certain victory and spat out the words which sealed Soren’s fate with contempt.

“Advise us, Emblem of Acumen.”

Being corrupted was unlike any sensation Soren had ever felt. Dark magic was never this piercing or painful, most of it sliding off his body as the spirits protected him from the worst of it. It wasn’t like a physical injury either. Soren had been stabbed more than enough times while he was still corporeal to remember how it felt, and it also didn’t compare. If he had to describe the burning agony he was subjected to, he would describe it like an infection or a parasite. The power of the Fell Dragon would start in the vessel his form was tied to and spread through dark tendrils of ice, so cold it burned. Once the bracelet was consumed it spread through his wrists – where his bracelet would’ve sat if he was to wear it – then up his arms into his lungs, his heart, then finally into his head.

It was hard to see, hear, touch, think. Everything was becoming numb as the cold spread. The burning red eyes of the Fell Dragon, so much like his own, became hard to focus on until his vision darkened to a black void. The concerned voices of the last sane Emblems slowly faded out. Soren couldn’t even feel his nails digging into his palms anymore…

And slowly… ever so slowly… the panic in the back of his mind… the brief spark of hope he had grasped hold of as his allies… his friends… escaped… all of his emotions… everything that he ever cared about… faded away-

~*~

“Ike, my place is by your side.”

A smile, so rare these days, and yet every time the sage saw it, it rivalled the sun.

“And my place is by yours. Always. Never forget that Soren.”

A laugh. It was even rarer for the sage to laugh than it was for the vanguard to smile.

“How am I supposed to forget when you’re always reminding me?”

A kiss, so soft and tender. Many would think a gesture like that would be foreign to two seasoned warriors. At first, it had been, but the two most stubborn people in all of Tellius didn’t let that stop them from trying.

“I love you.”

Soren no longer remembers who said it first…

~*~

“Ike…”

With that final word… everything… faded… away…