Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 1 ❯ CHAPTER 19: CASTLE GEBAL ( Chapter 19 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Soren wandered the castle, debating when he should leave. A couple hours before sunset, he saw Shinon and Gatrie depart via the backstairs. The stone staircase led to old trees and sheer cliffs, but it was a good way to slip out unnoticed. It led south, but Soren had no doubt the pair would circle around and head north to Crimea as soon as they could.

When their stuffed packs disappeared from view, he returned to his room to doublecheck his own bag. He wondered if he should follow their lead and weighed the danger of spending a night camping in the Gallian forest against the companionship of the mourning mercenaries. But the true reason he decided to stay was to tell Ike goodbye. He regretted not saying it last time, even if Ike had forgotten him anyway.

 

Soren went to the mess hall to grab something for dinner and found Titania, Oscar, and Boyd arguing in hushed tones. They stopped when they saw him.

“Have you seen Shinon and Gatrie?” Boyd demanded immediately.

“Yes,” he answered. “They left.”

“Seriously?” Boyd growled. “They actually left!”

Titania frowned. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Soren ignored the trio and procured his food. By the time he finished and departed, Titania and the brothers were still discussing what should be done to get Shinon and Gatrie to come back. But Soren thought this was a moot point. They’d had every right to leave. It may have been rude to go without first notifying Ike, but Soren did not particularly value politeness.

The sun set, and neither Ike nor Mist returned. Soren had been watching from his window, but concerned that he’d somehow missed them, he decided to wander the fort’s cool, dark halls instead. Castle Gebal was quiet, and none of the candles had been lit for the night.

After a while, Soren heard someone whispering (or rather, whimpering) nearby. Doing his best to muffle his footsteps, he followed the voice. “Commander…Greil…Why is this happening?”

When his eyes had adjusted to the dark, Soren saw Titania sitting against the wall in the corridor. She was curled up with something pale in her arms. Pressing her face into it, she inhaled deeply. It appeared to be some sort of garment. “Why is any of this happening? Why now? First Crimea… And now you,” she mumbled into the fabric.

Soren took a step closer, attempting to ascertain if this was indeed Greil’s shirt she was sobbing into like a widow. But his step was too loud on the stone floor, and Titania’s head shot up. Clearly embarrassed, she tossed the shirt aside. Hastily wiping her eyes, she drew a ragged breath and got to her feet.

She didn’t say anything though, and Soren didn’t care enough to demand an explanation. So he simply turned to leave. He didn’t care whether she’d loved Greil, and he didn’t care to hear her excuses or listen to her story.

He took a few brisk steps but didn’t get far before stopping dead in his tracks. Ike was heading in their direction. His eyes hadn’t risen from the floor, and it was possible he hadn’t even seen them. Titania had lunged after Soren (perhaps to ensure his silence about what he’d just seen), but now she too was frozen. 

“Ike,” Soren warned in a low voice.

Titania wiped her face again, straightened her clothes, and made an obvious effort to compose herself. “Oh, Ike!” she finally greeted him. “Where’s Mist?”

He looked up for the first time. “She’s resting in her room,” he answered. “Rhys and Rolf are with her.” It was a relief to hear him speak again, and he almost sounded like himself.

“That’s good.” Titania attempted a calming smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “She needs to sleep. She’s been through too much. We all have… You should rest too, Ike.”

“I’ll be all right. Greif won’t bring my father back.” Ike drew a steadying breath. “I know I’ve been a burden on the both of you. Titania, Soren, I just need to thank you both for staying here with me.”

“Er, not at all…” Soren replied, feeling suddenly guilty.  

“There’s no need. Don’t trouble yourself,” Titania consoled.

“So.” Ike glanced around the corridor. “Where is everyone?”

“Ike, to tell the truth…” Titania knitted her fingers.

Just then, Oscar jogged around the corner. “There you are!” He shook rain water from his hair. “Boyd and I are back,” he reported needlessly. Boyd appeared a moment later. His steps were more like stomps, and his face was furious.

Titania acknowledged them with a resigned nod. “How did it go?”

“I can’t believe it!” Boyd burst, crossing his arms. “They just left, and they didn’t take one look back! Heartless scum! I’ll never forgive them!”

“Boyd? What’s going on?”

“Ike!” Boyd seemed to just notice his presence. He narrowed his eyes in concern. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Ike said, clearly frustrated, “Tell me what’s happened. Start talking.”

“Well, uh, it’s,” Boyd muttered, “What I mean to say is…uh…”

Soren stepped forward. “Shinon and Gatrie have left us.”

“Soren!” Boyd gasped.

“What? There’s nothing to hide is there?” he asked simply. (And it wasn’t as if Ike wouldn’t notice.)

“They left? Both of them? Why did they…?” Ike frowned. “Oh I see. They left because of me, didn’t they?”

“Ike…” Titania didn’t seem to have the comforting words she wanted.

 Boyd explained: “Titania told us you were going to be the new commander. Shinon just about exploded. He and Gatrie left not long ago.”

“We went after them,” Oscar added. “We tried to talk things out, but it was a waste of time.”

Soren was confused by the anger in their faces. Were they truly upset to lose Shinon and Gatrie? Shinon had always been a selfish bully, and although Gatrie was better, he could be twice as obnoxious. Yes, they’d been talented fighters, but Soren doubted the loss of two skilled mercenaries was the problem here. Were they angry that anyone had dared leave? Did they see it as a slight again Greil’s judgement? Soren decided not to advertise the fact that he’d been planning to go himself.

“We all knew that Ike was going to inherit the company, didn’t we?” Soren proposed, imagining he could instill order and logic if he was careful with his words. “It happened sooner than we wanted, but it was Greil’s decision.” He paused for a moment, controlling his tone. “If some of us aren’t comfortable with staying, there’s no reason we should stop them from leaving… As far as losing fighting strength is concerned, we can solve that by adding new members.” Soren feared he’d just committed himself to staying and clamped his mouth shut. He’d said what he had set out to say—to excuse Shinon and Gatrie’s desertion. But perhaps he had dug himself into a hole with those same words.

He hoped it wouldn’t matter. He was pretending to assume, as Titania and the others were, that Ike would take over command of the mercenaries. But they were stranded in a Gallian fort in the middle of nowhere, with subhumans on one side and Daein-occupied Crimea on the other. There was no place for their company to operate, no room for them to exist.

“How can you say that?” Boyd exclaimed, and it took Soren a moment to realize he was responding to what he’d said, not to what he’d been thinking. “After all the battles we’ve been through together, how can you say that?”

“Forgive me, Ike. I wasn’t able to stop any of this.” Titania swept a hand over her chest.

“It’s not your fault, Titania.” Ike shook his head. “They did what they felt they had to do. They didn’t want to lose their lives to an inexperienced commander.”

“Ike!” she scolded, “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“I’m not saying that to gain anyone’s pity. It’s the truth… But even so, I have no intention of giving up command of this company.”

Soren couldn’t meet his friend’s eyes. Ike was idealistic and naïve. He couldn’t see there was no longer a mercenary company to command.

“Ike? Then what will you-” Titania began to ask, perhaps having an inkling of the problem that was so clear to Soren.

“I’m going to follow my father’s wishes. I’m going to assume command.” Ike glanced around. “If everyone will accept me, anyway…that’s what I’d like to do.”

“Of course!” Titania said at once. Her moment of doubt had already vanished.

Oscar smiled warmly. “I’d already made up my mind. That’s what I was going to do all along.”

Boyd frowned. “What, so now you want me to start calling you ‘Boss’? Is that it?” He held his frown a moment longer, but then his face broke into a broad grin. “Well, I can do that. Boss it is!”

Rhys came walking down the stairs at the end of the hall. “I’m in too.”

“Rhys!” Ike exclaimed, turning around.

“Mist is asleep. I know I missed most of the conversation, but I have a good idea of what you’ve been discussing. Commander Ike… Yes, it does have a nice ring to it.”

“What about you Soren?” Ike turned to him, and he felt pinned under everyone’s expectant gazes.

“Ike…” He shook his head. You’re not thinking! None of you are thinking! He silently screamed. Where are we going to go? What are we going to do? The Greil Mercenaries are finished! He tried to channel these thoughts into acceptable words. But something went wrong, and the words that came out of his mouth were different than intended: “I’m not sure what help I could be to you. What place is there for me in this mercenary company, anyway?” He winced and held his tongue between his teeth, mouth closed, trying to keep his expression impassive. Suddenly new thoughts flooded his mind:

It had been his plan to separate from Greil. If they’d stayed together, they would never have ended up in that ruin. The Black Knight would never have seen Greil, and he would probably be alive now.

If not that, then after the battle at the river, Soren should have stopped Ike from going back for Greil. And if not that, he should have stopped Ike and Titania from ordering them into that ruin. If they hadn’t intervened and woken the garrison, Greil and the others might have gotten in and out, saved Mia and themselves, without General Petrine being the wiser. There would not have been a drawn-out battle. The Black Knight would not have seen Greil, and Greil would still be alive.

Soren had been lying to himself. There was still a place for the Greil Mercenaries to operate. They could unite behind Ike and continue to Castle Gallia, where they would lend Princess Elincia their aid. That had been Greil’s plan. That plan still stood. It was Soren who had no place now.

Silence had stretched through the hall while Soren’s mind collapsed. He was waiting for Ike’s response, but part of him never wanted to hear it. He wished he’d left hours ago, with Shinon and Gatrie.

After what felt like an eternity (but was in reality only a few seconds), Ike tilted his head and gave Soren a strange look. “You are so weird,” he said.

The whirring gears of Soren’s mind ground to a stop, and he had no idea how to respond.

Ike continued, shaking his head. “I’ve always depended on you, haven’t I? I need your tactical knowledge. I need your objectivity. You’re not going to leave me, are you, Soren?”

A tremor crossed Soren’s lips, and he wasn’t sure if it was relief or fear. The way Ike was looking at him now—did he remember their time together? Did he remember Soren had left after Elena’s death? He wished he could read Ike’s mind and understand what he remembered, what he knew, what he was thinking. Finally, Soren swallowed and answered: “Don’t worry. I’ll be here.” He added a mental affirmation he didn’t dare let Ike and the others hear: I’ll be watching over you—not because Greil asked me to, but because you did. His chest felt heavy and light at the same time.

Ike seemed satisfied with this response. “Thank you,” he said in return, and there was a small smile on his face. Perhaps his grief had ebbed. He turned to the others. “I know I’m not as experienced as most of you. I’m going to make some mistakes, but I’ll try not to let you down.”

 

Two days passed, and although Soren wondered why their subhuman escort hadn’t arrived, no one complained about the wait. Ike and Mist spent a couple hours at Greil’s grave each morning, and the others visited it briefly once or twice during this time. Only Soren and the merchants never strayed there, even when doing their part to forage around the fort.

The merchants had grown friendlier and more talkative as the cloud of grief faded. The fort became a homey place, filled with the scent of Oscar’s herbal traveling biscuits—his more flavorful variation of traditional hardtack.

The last batch was baking while Soren found himself lunching a bland blob of what was apparently rice porridge. Mist had made it since Oscar was busy. They’d already run out of the meat the subhumans had delivered and most of the fruits and vegetables. They were running out of fresh food, and even Soren hoped the escort would arrive soon.

He was pushing the thickening porridge around his bowl when Rolf came bolting into the mess hall. “Soren!” he gasped, out of breath. “You’d better take a look at this!”

He stood abruptly. “What is it?”

“Soldiers,” Rolf answered, with wide, frightened eyes.

Mist had obviously overheard and dropped her ladle onto the floor. “No!”

“I’ll check the gates,” Oscar volunteered, dousing the hearth.

Soren nodded and turned back to Rolf. “Show me.”

The boy led him out of the hall, up the stairs, and to the nearest window, which overlooked the fort’s eastern gate. Daein soldiers were marching out of the woods, apparently encircling the entire castle. The sky was overcast, and in the gloom, the soldiers looked like a solid dark mass. Squinting, Soren could see them organizing themselves in orderly rows and columns despite the drizzle above and pulling mud below.

Titania had been adamant about locking the gates when no one was outside, and Soren hoped no one was out foraging, or there would be nothing stopping the soldiers from pouring right in and overtaking them.

Closing his eyes, Soren drew a long breath. There was no time for hoping or panicking. He needed to keep a clear head and proceed with speed and caution. When he opened his eyes, he took off running. “Gather the others!” he called over his shoulder.

“On it!” Rolf sped in the opposite direction.

Soren needed to report to Ike and soon found him talking to Titania. “We should be receiving word sometime soon, but-” he was saying.

“Ike, I’ve got bad news!” Soren exploded into the room. “Look out the window!”

Understanding the urgency, both Ike and Titania rushed to the windowsill. From here they could see the northern wall, front gate, and outworks, beyond which the soldiers were assembling.

Before either could express their dismay, Rolf and the others came tripping over each other in the doorway. Mia already had her sword drawn. Rhys joined them at the window. “If I’m not imagining things, that’s a squad of Daein soldiers.” He groaned weakly. “Why do they have to show up now?”

“What gives?” Boyd demanded. “We’re inside Gallia’s borders, aren’t we? They must be out of their minds to pursue us this far!”

“If they’ve come this far, I’m sure getting out of here alive was never one of their priorities,” Oscar noted.

Ike just stared, unable to say a word.

“We’re in trouble,” Soren declared reasonably, “They have us completely surrounded. We cannot escape.”

“So many of them…” Titania leaned against the window frame as if suddenly weakened. “And so few of us… It doesn’t look good, does it?”

Ike clenched his fists. “Doesn’t matter,” he growled, “We have to fight.” He turned to the others. “Greil Mercenaries, ready yourselves!”

The change in Titania was immediate. “Yes, sir!” she crowed.

Soren nodded. (Ike was right, after all.) “I’ll begin formulating a strategy immediately.”

Mist charged in and seized Ike around the waist, crying. Ike comforted her, but Soren ignored them and left the room. He needed to get the rooftop to better assess the Daein numbers and positions.

“Help us fortify the gates!” he heard Titania order a merchant who’d just come jogging up (presumably to see what they were going to do about the soldiers on their doorstep. “Then get your people inside the main hall,” she continued before he could get a word out. “Can you keep Mist and Rolf with you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” agreed the man.

They rushed down the stairs, but Soren ran up a level. He quickly located the hatch door leading to the roof and jumped to reach the rope that would release the ladder. Once it was down, he crawled up and heaved the hatch open on old, reluctant hinges. Pulling himself onto the roof, he kept his body low while surveying the Daein squadron.

As predicted, they had the fort surrounded from the west, north, and east. A small trail of ant-like soldiers was also investigating the rocky land to the south and the staircase entrance.  The majority of the forces were assembled in the northeast, where the road exited the forest and there was more open space.

It was difficult to see in the rain, but the formation and the presence of a standard bearer indicated the enemy commander was stationed behind the eastern regiment. They didn’t appear to be either Petrine or the Black Knight, which was a good sign. Without Greil, none of the mercenaries would survive another fight with one of Daein’s generals.

Soren took stock of their advantages and disadvantages. On one hand, this was a subhuman fort completely lacking in maneuverable battlements, anti-siege weapons, or even loopholes for arrows. It appeared the beast-men were completely ignorant of defensive engineering. But on the other hand, the mercenaries didn’t have the numbers to man battlements. Nor did they have a single archer anymore, so it was not a major loss. Furthermore, the Daeins had no siege weapons or ladders to use against the walls, and there appeared to be no dracoknights in the sky.

Castle Gebal was roughly constructed as two concentric circles. The outer fortifications were merely outworks designed to break momentum and divide the attacking forces. These had four openings: a ground-level one to the north, short sets of steps to the west and east, and a long set of stairs to the north. These entrances funneled the assailants through four minor baileys toward the inner wall, which surrounded the keep. There were three gates in this wall, all of which led to the main bailey outside the keep’s entrance. It was here that mercenaries would have to stand their ground. These gates were relatively close together, but even so, the seven mercenaries would be spread thin.

The Daein squadron far outnumbered their own. Soren estimated twenty in the eastern regiment, fifteen in the western regiment, ten to the south, and as many as thirty beyond the northern wall.

Soaked to the bone, Soren finally retreated from the roof. Jumping from the last steps of the swinging ladder, he ran to his room to retrieve his tome before meeting everyone in the main hall. Outside he could hear the Daeins chanting to intimidate their prey.

After relaying what he’d seen, he asked without pausing to catch his breath: “Do they have demands?”

Ike shook his head. “We called over the wall, but the only answer we got was the thump of a homemade battering ram. They’ve begun their attack. We can’t wait.”

Soren agreed. “If we surrender, we will be killed. They might interrogate us first for Princess Elincia’s position, but that is all we can hope for.”

“Somebody’s optimistic.” Boyd rubbed the back of his head without tearing his eyes away from the main doors.

“Soren, Mia, you’re on the west gate. Oscar, Titania, the east. Boyd, you’re with me at the main gate. Rhys stay on us, but check the others regularly. Got it?” Everyone bobbed their heads in unison. “Alright, everyone ready?” They nodded again. “Greil Mercenaries, move out! Don’t let even a single soldier break through!”

At this, they surged into the rainy courtyard and took their assigned positions. The merchants locked the doors behind them, and now only a special knock would allow the mercenaries back inside.

Standing behind Mia, staring at the old wooden door as it rocked against its hinges, listening to the cries of the soldiers on the other side, he considered Daein’s actions. To have sent a whole squadron into Gallia, Ashnard clearly didn’t care to avoid the Beast King’s wrath. Soren dared wonder if his conquest hadn’t ended in Crimea.

The drizzling rain had soaked him through again, and his robes felt heavy and cold. The pages of his tome stuck together. He could only stand here and wait for the door to fall.

Listening intently to the rest of the battle, Soren first heard the splintering of wood on the other side of the bailey. The metallic clang of weapons immediately followed, along with the neighing of horses and the screams of injured men and women. Titania and Oscar were fighting for their lives now.

Next there was a creak and a crash as the gate fell in front of Ike and Boyd. Turning to them, Soren saw the pair leap onto it, fighting to hold back the crush of armored bodies.

Finally his and Mia’s gate burst off its hinges. Mia leapt back, but Soren was ready with a spell already on his lips. He released a massive gust of wind that caught the gate before it could fall. It slammed back into the soldiers, knocking two to the ground and causing another pair to stumble.

Mia wasted no time slashing at their faces and necks while they struggled to their rise and defend themselves. The soldiers pushed the bothersome gate around until it leaned against the wall. The opening was narrow enough that only one or two soldiers could attack at a time. Mia did her best to fend them off, while Soren helped from behind.

Archers were already shooting at them from the back, and Soren did his best to knock the arrows out of the air and return fire. When he couldn’t do this, he and Mia ducked and dodged for their lives. They tried not to give the soldiers an inch, but they were inevitably losing ground.

 

Not long into the battle, Soren became suddenly distracted by a bolt of lightning that struck the ground somewhere behind him. He spun around carelessly, but the flash was gone. Rain continued to fall, but this wasn’t a thunderstorm and Soren was confused. Then another bolt hit the eastern gate, where Titania and Oscar were fighting. Now that he was looking, he could see that the bolt didn’t originate in the clouds. Rather, it appeared just a few meters above Titania’s head, electrocuted her and her horse, and threw her from the saddle. The Daein squadron had a Thunder mage in their ranks, and this was very bad for the mercenaries.

“Soren, a little help?” Mia said through gritted teeth.

He twisted back to her and resumed casting Wind and Fire spells. Mia was injured and bleeding badly on one side. Her blade work resembled flailing more than dancing now. But she couldn’t retreat, because without her taking the brunt of the soldier’s attacks, Soren would die within moments. 

Aware of this fact, Soren didn’t allow himself to become distracted again, and they both dug in their heels until Rhys finally arrived. He offered no word of greeting before seizing Mia and pulling her back several steps. The green light of his staff glowed, but Soren could see no more than that. He was determined to fend off the soldiers by himself until Mia was healed.

He used Fire to do this, despite the fact he was more skilled with wind magic. Fire was visible, and humans instinctively feared it. Chanting the incantation, he willed the flames to grow taller, rather than hotter, and encouraged it to spread into a kind of barrier. 

It seemed to work for a moment, but then a Daein spearman jabbed the point of his lance through the flames, straight toward Soren’s heart. Without time to move fully out of the way, it was all he could do to catch the strike in his arm just below his shoulder. He felt the joint pop out of place and the bone crack. Pain exploded down his arm. He lost all feeling in his hand and dropped his tome. The spell collapsed too, and the fire disappeared.

Rhys grabbed his hood and dragged him back before the spearman could make a lethal hit. With a high-pitched keen, Mia leapt back into battle. She swiped her blade down, cutting through one of the soldier’s wrists. The spear fell in the mud with Soren’s tome, and its owner howled in pain. Mia continue to fight, and Rhys was already trying to heal Soren’s arm.

The bones and muscles squirming to unite, but they couldn’t find the right leverage against the shoulder joint. He hissed in pain. “It’s dislocated you idiot!”

Rhys stopped and leaned his staff against the wall. “Ilyana!” he called, more loudly than Soren thought his voice was capable. “Over here, please!”

Soren was about to ask who in Tellius Ilyana was, when Rhys grabbed his shoulder with one hand and his arm with the other. He struggled to get the joint into place, and Soren gritted his teeth against the pain.

A moment later, a young woman with mauve hair loped over to them. She slowed to a timid stop when she arrived and clutched a yellow spell book to her chest. Judging by the Thunder tome, Soren assumed this had to be Daein’s mage, but she certainly didn’t look like a soldier and she wasn’t attacking them now. “I’m needed?” she asked softly, her voice nearly drowned out by the rain and the battle.

“Would you back up Mia?” Rhys asked.

“Which one’s Mia?”

“That one!” Soren snapped, pointing with his good arm at where Mia was desperately trying to keep the soldiers at bay. She’d already lost over two feet of ground. The Daeins were nearly through the short passage.

The woman—Ilyana—nodded and slipped behind Mia, where she uttered a spell and sent a brilliant bolt of lightning coursing down on the head of a Daein knight. Soren didn’t yet understand why this mage had joined them, but he was glad for the help.

Just then, Rhys finally got the joint into place with a painful, yet satisfying, click. Picking up his Heal staff, he finished the job. Soren used this time to examine the rest of the battle. Titania was still alive and had remounted her horse. Oscar was still fighting beside her. Ike and Boyd were still alive and fighting too, but the Daeins were mere inches from pushing past them and spilling inside.

Rhys finished, and although his arm felt stiff and ached to move, Soren knew he had to return to the fight. He rushed toward Ilyana and extracted his tome from the mud. The damage wasn’t too bad, and he quickly found the page he’d left off on.

Rhys disappeared to help the others, and the three fought together until someone called for Ilyana again. “That’s me,” she said shyly as she made her retreat. “Just so you know, this is not the whole force. They have reinforcements in the trees.”

“How do you kn-” Soren began, but she was gone before he could finish the question.

The battle drew on, and he dared believe the mercenaries could win this fight. But Ilyana’s warning was never far from his mind. Few of the soldiers remained, and they had stopped pushing forward. They were more hesitant with their attacks. They were careless, looking over their shoulders and leaving themselves open. He and Mia took advantage of this, but Soren guessed it was only occurring because the soldiers were anxious for reinforcements.

Soren hoped they wouldn’t be called; he hoped the Daein commander would order a retreat instead. But hoping was useless. Eventually someone blew a horn in the eastern regiment, and reinforcements equal to their original number poured from the woods, spilled past the outskirts, and slammed into each of the three entrances. The mercenaries were not shocked or dismayed thanks to Ilyana’s warning, but that didn’t change the fact that they were simply outnumbered.

Barely able to survive the initial surge, Ike and Boyd were pushed back. Soldiers flowed around them. "Retreat!” Ike called. “Everyone, fall back to the castle. Regroup! Regroup within the castle!” He, Boyd, and Ilyana were fighting while walking backward now, trying not to be surrounded.

Soren and Mia wasted no time turning on the spot and running toward the keep’s entrance. Rhys was already there, but he was hesitating to go inside. An arrow flew over Boyd’s head and pegged him in the hip. He crumpled to the ground.

Titania and Oscar leapt from their horse and slapped their flanks to send them charging through the Daein’s ranks. The soldiers let them go, set on pursuing the riders instead.

When everyone arrived at the doors, they instantly formed a protective semicircle around the fallen healer. “Get yourself inside, Rhys!” Ike ordered. He tried to protest but was clearly about to pass out. “Now!” Ike added.

Rhys performed the sequence of five knocks that would allow him inside, or at least, Soren assumed he did. He couldn’t hear over the sounds of fighting, but he did hear the door creak open before slamming closed again.

Despite Ike’s orders to regroup inside the fort, no one but Rhys went in. The Daeins were too close, and there was no way they could all get inside and lock the doors in time. Soren knew their position was hopeless, but he wouldn’t retreat while Ike still fought.

Over the following minutes, one by one, the mercenaries were hit with ghastly wounds and disappeared into the main hall just like Rhys. Each time they apologized, but to remain outside would mean to die. Eventually only Ike, Titania, and Soren remained guarding the door, and they barely covered it long enough to let Boyd get inside.

With only three left, no one else could retreat without letting the Daeins inside, and Soren had made his peace with this fact. He knew retreating would only stave off death a little longer anyway. The Daeins would break down the door as they had the gates, and Soren would rather die out here with Ike.

Eventually the moment came when he couldn’t stand any longer. He was bleeding out, although he couldn’t quite remember where the injury had occurred or how.

He fell, but it didn’t feel like falling. It was as if the battle around him had become overwhelming, as if the Daein soldiers were growing taller and taller until they looming high above his head. He slumped against the wall beside the door, and the rough stone felt as soft as a pillow. Soren was tempted to succumb to its comfort.

Black spots dotted his vision, and he felt he was listening to the battle from underwater. Titania collapsed, and now only Ike remained standing. Dimly, Soren was aware of a change that had overcome the Daein soldiers. They were playing now, fighting Ike one-on-one while the rest jeered and leaned on their blades. The battle was over; this was sport.

 “Haa…haa…ah," Ike panted in despair. "Blast! Not yet… Not yet… We will not fail!” He raised his sword again, deflecting another blow, but he didn’t have the strength to follow through with a counter.

Then, with a hazy surrealism that made Soren question if any of this was really happening, Mist was there. “Brother!" she cried.

They argued. Ike panted. Mist cowered. He defended her. The Daeins mocked them. It was like a nightmare: Soren was about to die, Ike was about to die, and even Mist was about to die. Everything was ending. There had never been any answers to all the questions. There had never been any purpose to all the pain.