Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 1 ❯ CHAPTER 25: AT SEA ( Chapter 25 )

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

“It is likely Daein is now focusing its attention on preparing a force to invade Gallia,” Soren proposed in an even tone. “However, King Ashnard does not strike me as someone who likes to leave loose ends.” He looked pointedly at the princess, who wrung her hands in distress.

“Daein knows Princess Elincia boarded our ship. Do you think we should expect opposition on our route to Begnion?” Titania rubbed her chin and glanced at the open sky and water behind them. She’d developed a nervous crease between her eyes from staring at the horizon like this for six weeks.

“Of course you should expect an approaching altercation, but not from Daein,” Nasir interjected calmly. “We have just passed the midpoint of our trip.” He spun the map toward himself and touched his finger to the southern coast of Gallia, where he and two of his crew had just picked up a resupply from Caineghis “If we have not seen a ship bearing Daein colors yet, I would warrant we are not about to.”

“Who would you expect to attack us then?” Ike asked.

Soren answered, cutting Nasir off: “I believe the captain means the flying corsairs.” He rotated the map toward Ike and placed his finger on the southern isles. “We are nearing the island nations of the bird laguz.”

“Indeed.” Nasir nodded. He didn’t seem bothered by Soren’s intervention.

“Well either way—” Ike shrugged “—the only thing we can do now is sail. As straight and as fast as we can.” He grinned and pointed with his whole arm toward the horizon opposite his deputy’s worried glances. Titania seemed immediately relieved, as if all she’d needed to alleviate her concerns was Ike’s overconfidence.

“Leave the sailing to my crew,” Nasir told Ike. “We will do all in our power to deliver you to your destination.”

“I recommend we begin a twenty-four-hour watch as early as next week,” Soren said. “I hear the channel between Phoenicis and Goldoa is the most dangerous.” He glanced at Nasir, to see if he would contradict or agree with him.

“Your young adviser has heard correctly,” Nasir confirmed. “Many ships are lost there.”

“Like I said, as straight and fast as we can!” Ike replied, but the grin was gone from his face and his bravado had a touch of nervousness. “Meeting adjourned.”

Nasir rolled up the map and returned to his cabin, which was below the aft deck (where they were currently standing). Titania walked to the gunwale and sighed. Ike walked over to Mist, who’d been waiting for the meeting to end so she could speak with him. Her face was pinched with worry.     

Soren walked until he stood beside the helmsman and surveyed the mercenaries lounging around the main deck. There was hardly a smile among them. Weeks of confinement had robbed them of their vivacity, and the potential of a Daein pursuit, a pirate ambush, or an ill reception in Begnion loomed over them, filling the ship with anxiety. Only the inanely cheery types like Rolf or the ceaselessly energetic like Kieran were spared the gloom, but even they seemed more subdued than usual. Everyone was hungrier and thirstier than they were accustomed, since all supplies were rationed. They were also tired from sleeping in hammocks in crowded bunkrooms that had once been storage bays. (This was a merchant vessel after all, not a passenger ship.) The sun was hot, but the nights were cold. The sea was dull, and there was nowhere to go on the small ship. It was hard to find privacy, and Soren had yet to find a place he could be alone. (Although Volke must have somehow managed it—he’d rarely been seen since they left Toha.)

The laguz were frustrated, and Lethe complained incessantly that she would lose her mind if she couldn’t run more than the length of the middeck. The two laguz were in their shifted forms now, running through their exercises while the other mercenaries kept clear. In another hour or two it would be time to exercise the horses in a similar way.

Soren passed his gaze over the rest of the passengers. Ilyana was leaning against the gunwale on the portside while Aimee patted her back. The small rations disagreed with Ilyana’s appetite, and she hardly moved each day.

The man name Zihark—a swordsman they had picked up in Toha—was watching Lethe and Mordecai run. Soren hadn’t spoken more than a few words with the new recruit, but he knew from gossip that he had an unhealthy obsession with laguz. Meeting Lethe and Mordecai was the reason he’d been so eager to join them. Apparently he’d fought alongside them in Toha and boarded their ship without even knowing their mission or destination. Soren thought this demonstrated an appalling lack of reason or good judgement.

Farther down the deck, Boyd and Rolf were arguing about something. Oscar was trying to pacify them, to little effect. This had become a daily occurrence in the past weeks, and everyone was sick of hearing it.

Marcia was with a crewman in the crow’s nest. She clearly had no fear of heights, and she was peering through the sailor’s telescope while her pegasus flew in circles around the ship like a giant seagull.

And finally, in the bow, Mia was sparring with Nephenee while Brom, Jorge, and Daniel watched. The two militiamen had been homesick since leaving Crimea, and Soren wondered if they regretted signing up for this foolish endeavor.

The merchant brothers, on the other hand, seemed spared the ship’s hardships. They comforted and entertained the others, which included teaching everyone a strategy game they liked to play. This was a good diversion, but there was only one gameboard so only two could play at a time. Some of the mercenaries liked to watch, but Soren couldn’t stand it. He hated that he had to hold his tongue when he saw the players making the wrong move, and he was especially annoyed when it worked out for the player anyway because their opponent was too blind to see the opportunity the mistake presented. That being said, he did enjoy playing.

As for Mia, she’d been sparring like this constantly since leaving Toha. She fought out on the deck every day, rain or shine, whether she had an opponent or not. Sometimes members of Nasir’s crew would spar with her—out of curiosity or pity, Soren did not know. Few of them could handle a sword, and Mia showed no mercy.

“Nasir!” Ike’s voice rose in irritation, jogging Soren from his thoughts. “What’s the big idea, eavesdropping on us like that?”

Soren looked down to see Nasir leaning against the wall just outside his cabin entrance. His arms were crossed, and he seemed unconcerned with Ike’s accusation. Ike and Mist had been talking about something, but Soren hadn’t been listening. Contrary to Ike’s outrage, however, it was difficult to avoid eavesdropping on the crowded ship. So Soren felt no shame listening to them now.

“How do you find sailing? Have you gotten sick at all?” Nasir asked, blatantly changing the subject.

“We’re fine.” Ike sighed. He wasn’t someone who stayed angry long (not about little things at least). “But, hey, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

Nasir waited curiously, and Ike and Mist took a couple steps forward so they could have a real conversation. “Answer a question for me, would you?” Ike began. “Why are you here? Why do you associate with the laguz?” He gestured to the east, where the coast of Gallia would be turning into the coast of Goldoa just beyond their sight.

It was a fair question. Soren had wondered himself, but he’d never broached the subject—just as he hadn’t dared ask about the strange marks they shared. He only spoke to the captain during the daily meetings, and Ike and Titania were always present.

“Why?” Nasir repeated as if amused by the question. “Besides the obvious financial benefits, I suppose I do so because I am one.”

Soren had known it was a possibility, but the revelation still shook him. Nasir’s mark was merely part of his laguz markings. They weren’t the same after all. Lowering his head slightly, Soren glanced at the beorc sailor beside him. There was no way the helmsman couldn’t hear the conversation below, and yet he kept his eyes on the horizon and didn’t show any sign of surprise. Soren realized the crew must know the truth and yet not care. 

“What?” Mist laughed hesitantly. “No, you’re not a laguz! I don’t see any tail or anything!”

Nasir replied as calmly as ever: “Because I’ve chosen to live among beorc, I’ve taken certain steps to make sure I’m not recognized. I’ve had to change my attire, my feeding habits.” He raised his palms simply. “I’ve done many things.”

“Why would you do that?” Ike asked in amazement. 

“Laguz cannot survive in isolation, nor can beorc. If both races are to thrive, they must learn to coexist.” His voice was solemn. “I have spent many years searching for a way to make this happen.”

Nasir, Ike, and Mist continued to converse, but Soren backed away. He didn’t want to hear anymore, and he didn’t want Ike to accuse him of eavesdropping too. He walked all the way to the stern, passing Titania who didn’t turn at the sound of his steps.

Staring at the ship’s wake, he tried to order his thoughts. Nasir’s identity held no clues to Soren’s own. The marks were meaningless. He was surprised by his disappointment, but he also felt a certain security he’d missed since meeting the sea captain. No one knows me, he thought and found it comforting. No one knows me.

 

Weeks passed in fluid monotony. Once they entered the Gazaleah Channel, they often saw pale mountain peaks in the north. Their ship was following the Goldoan coast but couldn’t go ashore. It was the home of the dragons—the most secretive and self-isolating of laguz tribes. Despite his contempt for the ship, Soren couldn’t complain about being unable to land. He would rather be stuck at sea with mostly beorc than in a land of half-lizard monstrosities.

Soren turned his eyes away from the mountains toward the western horizon astern of the ship. It was early still, and there was no sun in that hemisphere of the sky, just clouds and waves.

“Soren are you even listening?” Titania asked, exasperated.

Realizing he’d been staring over her shoulder, Soren adjusted his gaze to her face. “Of course,” he replied, “you were telling me that Ike and Nasir found a stowaway aboard who has been hiding and stealing from us for eight weeks. A rather remarkable feat I suppose. That must be why our strange captain has not thrown the little urchin into the sea.” Soren knew he was being unfair. The boy was twelve years old, and Soren hadn’t been any less of a vagrant at that age. He could understand the kid’s desperation.

“Well, he has agreed to fight alongside us and remain with our company even when we land in Begnion,” Titania reported.

“Lucky us,” he said dryly, making a mental note to talk to Ike about hiring every lost soul he came across. His eyes wandered back to the clouds, and he berated himself for being so easily distracted. Perhaps the time imprisoned on this boat was slowing his wits. But then he realized what had been drawing his attention: black dots had appeared above the horizon. “It would seem the kid—Sothe was his name?—will be able to prove himself sooner than expected.”

Titania was obviously confused, but when Soren pointed, she whipped around. “Ravens!” she declared, as if her fears had been realized.

Without another word, they ran to find Ike. Luckily he was on deck, speaking with Nasir. Apparently the sea captain had also spotted the ravens, and Ike was following his finger with squinted eyes. “Are those birds? If they are, they must be huge!”

 “Those are laguz, Ike,” Titania explained.

“Ravens from Kilvas,” Soren reported more accurately. “Their black wings are an ill omen for all who see them.”

“Titania, Soren, you noticed them coming as well?” Ike asked.

“Yes,” Titania answered, “Soren and I saw them when we were discussing our plans from the aft decks.”

“I’d heard stories, but…” Ike smiled. “They’re really flying! Wow...”

“We’re still out of their range, but airborne foes can be especially troublesome.” Nasir frowned, and it was the first time Soren had seen him not completely at ease. “I’d prefer to avoid them altogether. Let’s see if we can outrun them.” He walked briskly toward the aft deck, calling and waving to the helmsman.

The ship creaked as it adjusted course, and the sailors became a flurry of activity under Nasir’s command. Meanwhile Soren, Ike, Titania, and the other mercenaries tried to stay out of their way. They watched the birds grow closer, even as the ship picked up speed.

The mountains and rocky cliffs of Goldoa were not so distant anymore. In fact, they appeared dangerously close. Soren wondered for a moment if Nasir was about to wreck them. But then their trajectory evened out. They ran parallel to the coast, and the ship lurched with a sudden burst of speed. It appeared Nasir had directed them into a sweet spot of wind and current. If Nasir knew these waters so well, Soren wondered why they hadn’t taken this course from the beginning.

“From what I’ve been told,” Titania said after a long silence, “the flying corsairs of Kilvas and Phoenicis are far crueler than any beast laguz.” She sounded disappointed that not all laguz were furry kittens.

“Winged pirates.” Ike shook his head with an awestruck half-grin. But then the grin fell. “How am I supposed to fight against that?”

Neither was able to answer him (although Soren for one was composing a practical answer), because in that moment, the entire ship jarred violently. The hull shuddered, and there was an enormous grating sound all around them. Then the deck pitched, and everyone standing on it lost their balance and fell down. When Soren picked himself up again, he could tell the boat had come to a complete stop. The wind filled the sails, causing the masts to groan unhappily, but the boat wouldn’t budge.

“Wh-what was that!” Ike demanded, on his feet in an instant.

“Oof.” Titania rubbed her bruised elbow. “It felt like we hit something.”

“Blast!” Nasir leapt to his feet in anger. He ran to the shoreward gunwale. “We’ve run aground! We must be caught on a reef!” He turned to the crewmen who were frantically assembling before him. “Move it lads! Get the ship free!”

Soren, on the other hand, walked resignedly to the seaward gunwale. The dark spots on the horizon were rapidly growing larger. This was a trap. The ravens knew these waters better than any beorc (or laguz) sailor. They’d followed the ship just close enough to be spotted. Then they’d taken their time, dangling the possibility of escape. Trying to catch the wind and current coming around the Goldoan cape caused imprudent ships to run into the reefs—and Nasir had acted imprudently indeed. The ravens from Kilvas were infamous for their cunning, but Soren hadn’t believed it until now.

“Ike.” Soren approached his commander, who was currently running to and fro with Nasir’s crewmen, playing at being a sailor in a desperate attempt to help. “The crows are coming.”

“Damn!” Ike stopped in his tracks to face the incoming crows. “Pull everyone together,” he yelled to Titania, “Looks like we’re in for a fight!”

She saluted and dashed belowdecks.

 

The sailors, merchants, and princess barricaded themselves belowdecks, while the mercenaries assembled above. Even Volke and the new kid were deployed. Soren had little doubt Volke could defend himself, but he was less certain about the stowaway. Sothe carried an odd array of knives in the lining of his ragged clothes, which Rolf had somehow convinced him to show off the other day. He claimed to be able to fight and had been able to hit targets consistently, but that was entirely different than a real battle—especially one against flying laguz. Apparently Ike thought so too, because he tried to convince him to stay below. But the scrawny, soft-spoken boy insisted he would help defend ‘Commander Ike’ from any foe. (Once again, Soren marveled at his friend’s inexplicable magnetism).

The Kilvan pirates surrounded the immobilized ship, apparently in no rush to take the prize. They jeered, laughed, and cawed. Some were transformed, with large black beaks that seemed as capable of crushing a man’s arm as impaling him or gouging out his eyes. They were also armed with long, hooked talons that looked as sharp as sickles. Others were in their human forms and might have passed as normal dark-haired, dark-eyed beorc, if not for their laguz markings and the enormous black wings that suspended them above the waves.

Their leader hover by the prow. His arms were crossed. “Predictable humans,” he called down to them, “without fail, you always sail right into our trap.” Neither Ike nor any of the mercenaries rose to the taunt. With a bored roll of his head, the Kilvan leader signaled directions to his second in command and swooped away from the ship. Apparently he was going to leave the work to his flying pirate crew.

“Soren!” Ike turned to him. “Do we have a strategy?” And apparently Ike is going to leave the work to me, he thought, but he didn’t mind. It was his job as Ike’s advisor.

“There is not much we can do. Stay on the deck. Use long-range weapons. I’ve done some research in the past. All members of the bird tribes are vulnerable to wind magic, as you know, and I think it’s safe to assume they are as susceptible to arrows as any other flyer. We must reserve energy in our attacks. The crows can exhaust us by moving in and out of range. They can also pass easily over our heads, so no one is safe. We must pay particular attention to our weaker fighters and healers. Your sister may be at some risk. I suggest you place her at the center of a formation composed of our stronger hands. She will not be completely safe, but at least then the crows may be killed before they can fly away with her or gut her where she-.”

“That’s enough, Soren,” Ike warned with a glare. He snapped his mouth shut, and Ike’s expression softened. “And thanks.”

Soren nodded once, not quite sure what warranted the gratitude.

Ike began shouting orders, putting Soren’s plan into action. The Kilvans flew into a raiding formation, and any who’d not yet transformed did so now. Then they dove upon the ship, shrieking as they attacked.

Soren knew his magic would be key in this battle, so he stuck his fingers between the pages of Wind and Elwind and concentrated on the incantations he knew so well. He targeted the ravens who flew beyond the reach of his comrades’ swords and lances, and he made each spell count.

This was the first time he’d faced a laguz opponent (his spat with Mordecai aside), but he found he felt no thrill. One less thieving, murdering subhuman in the world, he tried to tell himself as another raven dropped from the sky in a cloud of feathers and blood. But he didn’t actually feel the malice he pretended.

Rather, what motivated him to fight harder was the knowledge that he could be particularly useful to Ike in this battle. The feeling was a warm rush, and it focused his mind and his senses. It made him feel stronger, more daring, more confident. Wounds felt less painful, and mistakes less agonizing. He conducted the winds as if they were music and he a maestro. If Nasir’s crew hadn’t carefully furled the sails, they would have been cut to smithereens.

 His only restraint was for Marcia, whose pegasus darted through the air as she fought the ravens hand-to-hand (or, rather, lance-to-talon). It wouldn’t do to accidentally knock her or her steed out of the air, so he concentrated on keeping the deadly gales away from them.

Meanwhile, a green speck was growing larger over the western sea, and Soren kept an eye on it even while battling the ravens. When it became apparent the speck was in fact a wyvern—and therefore a Daein soldier—Soren raced to report this discovery to Ike, who was fighting a particularly tenacious crow at the base of the main mast. “Ike!” he called. “You’ll want to take a look at this!”

Ike looked away for only a moment, but it was enough for the pirate to scrape the tip of their talons across his temple and cheek. He twisted with the attack, travelling with the raven’s momentum and keeping the wound relatively shallow. Roaring angrily, his mind and body were back in the fight in an instant.

Kicking himself for distracting his friend, Soren prepared an Elwind spell to help him. But before he could finish the incantation, Brom came from behind and embedded his axe in the bird’s head. They dropped, reverting before they hit the deck. The axe blade now protruded from a human skull.

“We have a Daein rider coming in from the west!” Soren pointed while Ike and Brom caught their breath.

This dracoknight was unusually colored. The wyvern had glittering emerald scales instead of the common red, and the rider wore armor painted a strawberry hue instead of the traditional Daein black. Soren had heard rare-colored wyverns were usually gifted to nobles or military leaders, and he knew the only exceptions to the army uniform were for similar elites. The dracoknight approaching them now was likely an important person: an exalted captain, a member of the royal family, or another noble personage.

And yet, they appeared to be traveling without an escort. And to have followed them this far from Crimea was an incredible feat. Surely they hadn’t dared land in Gallia or Goldoa, so this rider must have survived only by resting and subsisting on the coastal islands. Why would they make such a difficult journey alone?

Soren wanted to find out, which was the only reason he didn’t blast the dracoknight out of the sky. Soon they were close enough to see clearly: a fresh-faced young woman with a long red ponytail and fiery eyes.

“You!” she pointed an accusing finger at Ike while her wyvern beat its wings, holding her above the open water. “Why are you lollygagging about?”

Soren and Ike exchanged glances. It wasn’t the greeting either of them had expected. The wyvern plunged forward, landing on the deck, and the woman immediately leapt off. She strode proudly toward Ike, apparently unfazed by the battle because she left her axe strapped to the saddle.

“Who are-” Ike tried to ask.

“I’m Jill Fizzart, a wyvern rider of Daein, attached to Commander Haar’s battalion,” she announced, stopping in front of him with a wide stance. “I offer a truce! I cannot sit by and allow a human vessel to be attacked by subhuman degenerates! I will fight with you!”

Ike clearly disliked her choice of words, and they immediately fell to arguing. But Soren turned his attention back to the battle. Even with that headwound, Ike could handle her if she decided to attack. And if she insisted on helping them, Soren wasn’t going to complain.

Upon the conclusion of their argument, Jill joined Marcia in the sky. They fought well together and didn’t stray far. Both steeds seemed to be waning, and when they couldn’t fly anymore, they landed and fought on the deck. Apparently Jill understood the shelf of land only yards away was off-limits—as did the ravens who wouldn’t set foot there, even when injured and barely able to stay aloft.

Reinforcements continued to flap across the ocean. Evidently the pirates they’d been fighting were merely the fastest in the crew. The mercenaries were quickly becoming overwhelmed. Their numbers thinned, and the deck became less crowded, even with the addition of the wyvern and pegasus. As far as Soren could tell, no one had died yet, but when they were too injured to continue fighting, they retreated belowdecks. Unable to guarantee Rhys and Mist’s safety, Ike had ordered them below. They were now without healers. 

Soren was hurt, but he refused to retreat—not when his magic was actually making a difference. He held his spell book in his nondominant hand, because the other had been crushed in a pirate’s beak. He was limping around the deck thanks to a bite on his leg, and his back and head were bruised from falling on the deck when the bird had lifted and dropped him. He was dizzy, but not seriously concussed. He could keep going.

 

Finally, the reinforcements ceased appearing. The raven leader himself joined the fray, obviously frustrated with his crew. But he was too late to turn the tides. The mercenaries routed them all. Soren finally stopped chanting, and the sound of wind in his ears faded to a strange sort of silence. He listened to water lap against the ship and splash against the stone cliffs. The terns squawked reproachfully from their roosts, offended by the battle on their doorstep.

“Is everyone all right?” Ike called.

“I’ll check on injuries,” Soren offered. He went below, hardly making it down the ladder with one arm and leg. Rhys helped him from there, sitting him down and tending his injuries.

Although he obviously wanted to focus on what he was doing, he consented to answering Soren’s questions about casualties at the same time. No lives or limbs had been lost, although some had been grievously injured and had not yet regained consciousness. Rhys said he was confident they would.

By the time Soren could make his report to Ike, many people had spilled back onto the deck and were making themselves useful pushing laguz corpses over the side. Meanwhile Nasir and his crew had resumed their efforts to dislodge the ship. 

“Those crows make fierce opponents.” Titania gave the last corpse a respectful nod before Kieran heaved it over the gunwale.

“Indeed,” the captain said, joining them.

Ike turned to him. “Nasir, how’s the ship?”

He shook his head. “Completely immobilized. We can’t shake free of this reef. Perhaps the tides will lift us, but I fear damage in the meantime.”

Ike growled in frustration. “I feel useless just waiting around here. There has to be something I can do to help.” His gaze turned to the Goldoan cliffs.

Noticing this, Nasir frowned and gave him a warning look. “For now, we must sit tight. Perhaps we will free ourselves, or another ship will come along who can help.” He inclined his head slightly. “If you’ll excuse me.” He returned to his crewmen, who were trying to push them free with long poles. Some stabbed at the reef while others prodded the cliffs, trying to force them into deeper water. 

Ike crossed his arms and watched. Or perhaps he was staring at the land just out of reach. The cliffs plateaued at a height almost level with the deck of their ship, and beyond the rocky clearing grew dense trees and shrubs. Beyond these the cliffs sprouted again, turning into the jut of a mountain.

Soren had no doubt Ike remembered the rule against going ashore, but he also knew this was far too tempting a situation. It was as if they’d pulled up to an inviting wharf, a place where they could stretch their legs and perhaps find water and food. The odds of accidentally running into a native seemed unlikely, so he didn’t try to stop him.

While Nasir and the crew were distracted, Ike unlatched the long gangplank, swung it out, and cranked it up so the end came to rest on the lip of the cliff just a few feet higher than the deck. Then he locked it in place and walked slowly across, with arms spread wide for balance.

He’d just made it to land when Mist noticed. She ran to the gunwale. “Hey! Ike!” she yelled, “Where are you going? Should you be leaving the ship?”

“Nothing is getting done just sitting around here,” Ike replied crossly, “I want to go ashore and see what I can see.”

By now everyone had noticed Ike’s transgression. Nasir ran to join Mist. He looked worried, and even a little frightened. “What? Hold on, Ike! You can’t… That’s-” He froze when he saw three imposing figures emerge from the woods.

“Ah! Ike! Behind you!” Mist shouted in alarm.

“You there! What are you doing?” one of the strangers demanded.

“Huh?” was Ike’s eloquent response.

All three men had dark skin and red-orange hair cropped close to the scalp. They were tall and broad-shouldered like tigers, but without tails or furry ears. In fact, the only thing that marked them as laguz were the ornate red markings on their faces and arms. Soren knew they had to be dragons.

He regretted not stopping Ike. He had doubted the Goldoan border was as secure as Caineghis or Nasir claimed, but apparently, it was. That or they were simply unlucky, and the battle had drawn the attention of some passersby.

 Nasir retreated, muttering to himself: “This could be trouble…” Without another word, he disappeared into the crowd. Soren had half a mind to go after him. But Ike could be in danger, so he stayed.

“This is Goldoan territory. Outsiders are not permitted,” another of the dragons warned.

“No, wait.” Ike held up his hands innocently. “You don’t understand. Our ship has run aground. There’s nothing we can do. We’re stuck here.”

“Then return to your ship. What happens to beorc is none of our affair,” the third announced.

Ike took a step back, but his hands dropped and turned into fists. The guards were angry, but now Ike was too. He took two steps toward the last one to speak. “That’s ridiculous. You’re being completely-”

“You have been warned. You will not be warned a second time,” the first growled.

Suddenly, all three laguz transformed in unison. Standing before Ike now—or rather towering over him—were three crimson dragons. Some of their scales were as small and brilliant as rubies. Others were as large as shields.

“Hey!” Ike exclaimed indignantly. He didn’t seem nearly as terrified as he should have been.

“Cease this at once!” came an authoritative, yet young-sounding voice. “What do you think you’re doing?” The speaker emerged from among the trees. He was indeed young— probably Ike’s age. But he was dressed finely and guarded by another red-haired giant.

“My-my Lord Prince,” one of the dragons said. The voice was strange coming from the lips of a huge reptilian beast. The three instantly reverted and retreated, heads bent. If the guard’s exclamation was true, this boy was a member of the Goldoan royal family: a black dragon and one of the most powerful beings in Tellius. This also meant he was far older than he appeared.

Ike and the prince began speaking, and Soren wanted a better look. He held out an expectant hand to a crewmember with a spyglass, and he reluctantly gave it up. Peering closely, Soren’s first thought was that the dragon prince looked remarkably familiar. But his mind couldn’t conjure a matching face.

The boy had dark skin, scarlet eyes, and chin-length, green-black hair whose bangs cut across his eyebrows. But when he smiled, he flicked them away a moment, and Soren saw the flash of a red symbol at the center of his forehead. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Soren remembered when he used to cut his hair like that, and he realized why the boy looked familiar. The brow, the cheeks, the chin… He lowered the spyglass to stare with his own eyes. The Dragon Prince was slightly taller, but their frames were similar.

Soren took a couple steps away from the gunwale. He shook his head, telling himself he was being an idiot. He was looking at another person like Nasir, whose laguz mark was coincidentally located in the same position as Soren’s birthmark. A human body had only so much canvas. This person happened to be a skinny kid, and that was enough for Soren to see similarities where they were none. Am I so desperate for meaning that I will search for it in the face of any stranger? he thought to himself, and when he glanced back up at the boy on the cliff, he didn’t seem familiar at all.

His shock and confusion faded, but Soren still didn’t feel well. Wondering if he had a concussion from the drop earlier, he found himself following Nasir’s lead and heading belowdecks.

 

He watched Ike and prince exchange pleasantries from a window on the portside. The scene was soundless, and now that he was looking upward, part of it was blocked by a stone outcropping. But from what he could tell, the prince seemed hospitable; he and Ike shook hands.

A black shape suddenly leapt at Soren, making him jump and realize how tense he’d become. But it was only a cat, which now rubbed its head and ears against his leg. He jerked his foot to remove the animal. “Shoo!”

The cat meowed reproachfully and strutted away.

“Come, Sedha,” said a voice behind him, and Soren spun around. There stood Nasir, the cat now in his arms. Its tail rolled rhythmically with his strokes. “I do not appreciate it when my cat is kicked.”

“Why do you have a cat on a ship anyway?” He wasn’t about to apologize.

“Sedha is the reason this is a clean, rat-free vessel. She’s a valuable member of the crew,” Nasir explained, “She stays in the lower holds for the most part, but perhaps she sensed a varmint hiding in here.”

“Say that again,” Soren growled.

“Then again, perhaps she just likes you,” Nasir added with a sly smile, and he realized he’d fallen for the bait by letting his words rile him.

He crossed his arms. “Then I am flattered she found my leg so pleasurable. I’m just glad Lethe never finds herself thus acquainted with it.”

Nasir frowned. “You insult her greatly to compare her to a common cat. She would kill you were she to hear what you have just said.”

Soren shrugged. “That’s right, because you are a subhuman yourself? You’re personally offended.” Nasir said nothing, letting the cat spring from his grasp. Soren continued: “But you are not a beast or a bird. I was confused at first, but now your lack of laguz traits makes sense. You are a dragon, a bloodless lizard of Goldoa.”

Nasir replied simply: “Not of Goldoa. Not anymore.”

They were silent for a few seconds, glaring at one another. When it was clear Nasir wasn’t going to defend himself, Soren resumed his attack. “Not Goldoan? Is that why you’re cowering down here in the dark? Are you afraid to be spotted by your old scaly friends? What sort of trouble are you in?”

Nasir’s reply came cool and calm from his lips: “And what trouble do you fancy yourself to be in? Need I point out that you have also come to—as how you’ve so aptly said—cower in the dark?”

Soren had no response, but after a moment, he didn’t need one. With a jarring lurch and shudder, the entire boat came free of the reef. Soren pressed his face to the window in confusion. Outside he could see three dragons sloshing through the water.

“They’ve pushed the ship off the reef!” Nasir noted. “I hope there was no damage to our rudder.” Their previous conversation seemed never to have occurred. “I must assess the situation. We need to get underway.” He left the cabin, but not before hesitating a moment and seeming to gather himself before heading out.

Soren decided Nasir was definitely hiding something.

 

The voyage continued, and the mercenaries’ moods brightened considerably thanks to the fresh food and water gifted by the Goldoan prince. Nasir behaved normally, and there was no sign of more crows on the horizon.

For a little while, the newcomer, Jill Fizzart, raged about the immorality and shame of relying on subhuman aide and companionship. Then she’d demanded they turn the ship around and take Elincia back to Crimea, where she could be taken into custody and facilitate the regime change. Everyone on the ship rolled their eyes or completely ignored her. Lethe and Mordecai even refrained from attacking her. Perhaps realizing she wasn’t making any friends, she quickly gave up her ravings and became tight-lipped and wide-eyed.

As soon as she changed her attitude, the others had behaved kindly to her. Mist healed the wounds she’d received in battle and asked to pet her wyvern. Boyd complimented her axe skills, and Marcia her flying. Then Ike asked to hear her story, and the pair sat down for a long time.

Soren was not party to this meeting, but when he saw her later, walking and talking among the mercenaries as if she belonged as much as any of them, he sought an explanation from Titania.

“Ike offered to give her supplies and let her go back to Daein—as long as she didn’t try to take Princess Elincia with her of course,” she explained with a laugh. “When she didn’t jump at that offer… Well, you know how Ike is. He offered to let her stay instead. Apparently she’s thinking about it.”

Although this sounded exactly like something Ike would do, Soren couldn’t accept it. He immediately marched off to find him, deciding it was time to give the advice he should have given ages ago:

“It is unbelievably foolish to extend a friendly hand to every wayward traveler you meet!” he reprimanded the young commander. “Greil took great care in selecting who he allowed to be a member of this company. There are those you can trust to watch your back in battle, and those you cannot. A Daein solider—and a Daein noble at that—belongs in the latter category! She is clearly a spy.”

Ike looked unconvinced. “Are you done?”

“One more thing,” Soren added, not bothering to hide his agitation. “I have recently learned that both the little stowaway Sothe and that supposedly laguz-loving man Zihark are also Daein-born. Does that not seem concerning to you? They owe us no loyalty. They could even be Daein agents, placed on our ship to learn our plans and report back to their commanders.”

Ike said nothing.

“Now I am finished,” Soren said flatly.

“Good.” Ike smiled easily. “So you think Daein sent three spies after us, because…one might not have been enough?”

Soren frowned.

“And rather than having Sothe kill Princess Elincia a month ago when we didn’t even know he was here, his commanders had him hide half-starving in a barrel until he was found?”

Still Soren said nothing. Ike wasn’t wrong to point these things out, but that didn’t mean he was right either.

“And Jill…she’s waiting to earn our trust before taking out the princess?”

“Yes, that’s exactly-” Soren began, but Ike cut him off by gesturing to where Jill and Elincia were chatting at the bow of the ship. Jill seemed to be miming something, and Elincia laughed with a delicate hand to her mouth. Jill made a face as if surprised and embarrassed that her joke had succeeded, and she rubbed the back of her neck, laughing too.

“If all Ashnard wants to do is tie up loose ends, and if Jill is the world’s youngest wyvern-riding assassin, why is Princess Elincia still alive?”

Soren shook his head. “You’re not listening, Ike. I have no evidence that these two are not to be trusted. Perhaps they are telling the truth after all. But the possibility is just too great. There is no strategic advantage for this risk.”

Ike became suddenly thoughtful. “Maybe not, but then again, maybe there will be. We don’t know what they’re capable of yet. And even if there’s no advantage at all, I still want to help them.”

“Help them?” Soren repeated.

Ike gave a small smile. “Yes, help them. Did you know Sothe is looking for someone? Sounds like she’s the only family he has and she disappeared. He thinks she might be in Begnion, so he risked his life stowing away on Nasir’s ship. I told him he could come with us, and if he doesn’t find her, he can stay with us. Maybe we’ll cross paths before the end. And if not, we can be his family instead. I know that’s what Father would have done…”

“Ike…”

“And Jill, she disobeyed her commander’s orders to chase after us. That commander was her childhood friend, but she defied him anyway. She couldn’t stand that Daein let us get away, so she took matters into her own hands. She knows nothing about King Ashnard’s plans, and she thought capturing Princess Elincia would solidify his victory and bring peace to Crimea. That’s what she wants: for the fighting to end. She’s been brainwashed by Daein, and yet she still values that above all else. She’s a good person. But now she’ll be branded as a deserter and lose everything if she returns.”

“You would make her a traitor, not just a deserter,” Soren pointed out. “Does she think that’s better?”

Ike shook his head. “I think she is starting to see that Daein is in the wrong.”

Soren sighed. “I am not going to change your mind about this, am I?”

“Nope!” Ike replied in a voice that sounded like Mist. 

“Fine, we can adopt the Daein strays. As you said, perhaps they will prove to be strategically advantageous.”

Ike looked disappointed. “You weren’t listening to anything I was saying, were you?”

Soren breathed a soft laugh. “It only seems fair.”