Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 1 ❯ CHAPTER 30: THE SERENES ( Chapter 30 )

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

The mercenaries reported to Duke Tanas’s villa in the early morning, a week and a day after receiving the mission. They’d once again been driven by carriage to their destination, skirting the mountains that formed part of the Grann’s barrier range. Then they’d been ferried by boat across the Miscale River. From there, they’d marched to the Duke’s estate on foot.

They were in western Begnion, near the vast festering swampland known as the Serenes. Soren saw the large, blurry ink blot on his map, but the land around him now was lush with the bounty of midsummer. It was still early, so a thin mist clung to the air, broken by spears of sunlight. Birds were chirping, and a few farmers were already out threshing their fields.

“Is this the place?” Ike assessed the enormous mansion through the wrought iron gate.

“Yes, it is,” Soren answered while peering at the suspiciously large number of soldiers stationed around the manse. Not only did they man the wall and roam the yard, they seemed to guard every door, window, and balcony. “It’s rather heavily guarded. Even so, I think a direct attack would be our best chance at gaining entrance.”

Neither mentioned the fact that this was supposed to be a mere investigation. A soldier approached from the other side of the gate. “Halt!” he cried upon seeing the mercenaries assembled like a small, colorful army behind Ike and Soren. “Who goes there? What are you doing? This villa is the property of Duke Tanas, Senator of the Empire!” he announced. “No trespassing!”

“I am Ike of the Greil Mercenaries. Under orders of the apostle, we’ve been charged with investigating the duke.” He waved the warrant with Sanaki’s seal just behind the bars

“What? The Apostle sent you?” His eyes sprang from the document, to Ike, to Soren, to the mercenaries, and back again. Finally he opened the gate, but once they were all inside, he raised a hand, saying, “W-wait here a moment!”

“Alright, Brother,” Mist whispered as soon as the soldier was gone. She had a small contingent of mercenaries behind her—Titania, Mia, Ilyana, Marcia, and Jill. “We’ll sneak around out here and see what we can see.”

“Good idea.” Ike winked. (It was the plan after all.)

“Leave it to us.” Titania smiled with a hand over her heart. “If we get stopped, we can talk our way out of it. Alright, Mist, let’s get going.”

“Yeah!” Mist cheered. She and the other beorc women were soon gone.

A few moments later, Soren spotted a nobleman hobbling down from the mansion. His eyes were tiny, his nose bulbous, and his skin pale. Sweat ran in rivulets down his many chins, and tight gold rings encased sausage-like fingers. When he got closer, Soren noticed he smelled overwhelmingly of perfumes. Duke Oliver Tanas was both a bloated corpse and a rotting rose garden. Soren pulled his lip in distaste.

“What is it I hear? That you lads claim to be here on the Apostle’s business?” he asked as if amused, but he couldn’t hide his fear. He glanced from Ike to Soren, pretending not to notice the other mercenaries behind them.

Ike was about to make some retort, but Soren nudged him in the ribs. He reclaimed himself and held out Sanaki’s scroll. “We have a letter here that bears her seal.”

“Hmm…” Oliver accepted it but seemed careful not to brush Ike’s fingers. “Well…I see. It appears genuine,” he admitted grudgingly. “Very well. Am I in a position to ask what exactly I am suspected of doing?”

Soren had to admit this rich pig feigned ignorance well. That or he really was a fool. Judging by his expression, he clearly didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. Soren decided to knock him down a peg. “We are here by the apostle’s leave. Do you honestly intend to make us discuss this matter outside?” He glanced meaningfully at the soldier who’d led Oliver here and was now looking curiously at his lord.

“Oh!” Embarrassment blushed onto Oliver’s cheeks. “No, no, of course not. Never! I would never insult…” He glanced down at Soren in confusion—as one might do if bitten by something without teeth. “Please, c-come inside…”

  

The Greil Mercenaries were led on a detailed tour of the duke’s estate. The place was packed with robust art, and apparently Oliver wished to lecture them on all of it. Soren couldn’t tell if he was intentionally or accidentally wasting their time. The mercenaries fanned out and searched as they went, but they were carefully monitored by the duke’s guards the entire time. After hours of searching, they’d found nothing. Ike was finally forced to admit they were looking for evidence of laguz enslavement.

“Oh? Slavery? Me?” Oliver asked in disbelief. “The Apostle would honestly accuse me of such an unfashionable thing as slaveholding?” He laughed so confidently that Soren was now as certain of Oliver’s guilt as Oliver was certain he was going to get away with it.

Frustrated, Soren turned his attention out one of the parlor’s ornate windows. At this rate, the mission would be a failure. He wondered what Sanaki would do if they returned to Sienne empty handed. Meanwhile Oliver and Ike were arguing, but Soren ignored them.

“Ugh! Hey, stop that! Back off!” Ike growled, and that was enough to regain his attention. He spun around to see Oliver’s watery eyes an inch from Ike’s face. Ike shoved him away, grabbing his sword hilt in warning.

Soren intervened before Ike got himself arrested. “We have little choice, do we…?” he asked pointedly. “I think it would be best if we left for the time being.”

“Hey! Halt! You can’t go in there!” a voice shouted from the hall. This was followed by the sound of a scuffle, and soon the door burst open.

Mist ran in with a soldier hot on her heels. “Ike!” she cried, immediately hiding behind him.

The soldier stopped by Oliver’s side; both were scowling. Ike mirrored the expression, once again gripping the hilt of his sword. “Mist, what is it?” he asked without looking away.

Mist’s reply came in a rush: “Ike, I saw him! In a room on the top floor of this building, I saw someone—I think he was one of the bird tribe! He looked like he was trying to jump out of a window, but he was forced back into the room.”

“Wha-what?” Oliver stuttered. His confidence was quickly fading. “What is this-this child babbling about?”

Suddenly the other women poured into the room. Titania had murder in her eyes. Unfortunately they were followed by more soldiers, who created a protective wall around their master. They backed away but had nowhere to go.

Things were heating up, so Soren tried to cool them down with some calm logic. He pulled Mist away from Ike, who seemed ready to draw his sword on the duke at any second. “Someone from the bird tribe? Can you describe him?” he asked.

“Um, he had long hair, and it was…sparkling, like gold. And his skin…it was so pale—almost translucent. Oh! And his wings—they were pure white!” Mist reported excitedly.

Soren nodded. From his studies in the Mainal archives, this sounded like one of the royal heron laguz. But they were supposed to be extinct.

Titania confirmed the description while additional mercenaries and guards shuffled into the room and took sides in the standoff. Soren could tell there were more people in the hallway: mercenaries on the right, soldiers on the left. Oliver kept retreating until he hit the wall.

“That can only mean there is a member of the Serenes heron clan in this place,” Soren declared, “According to books—” (of course he didn’t mention where he’d read these books) “—only members of the royal family possess white wings.”

Ike pinned Oliver with his glare. “It appears that there’s at least one room we have yet to see. What’s it going to be, Duke Tanas? You can cooperate and show us the room that you somehow forgot, or-”

Oliver didn’t let him finish. “Guards!” he screamed, “Kill them all! Don’t let a single one escape!” The duke moved more quickly than Soren would have thought possible. In an instant, he disappeared into a hidden passage between the wall and bookshelf. Something metal crashed behind him, and his crimson-armored soldiers stepped up to defend it.

“So this is how you want to play it, eh?” Ike asked no one in particular. “I thought it might come to this. Mercenaries! It’s time! We’re bottle-necked in here! Spread out!”

Everyone began running and fighting in all directions. Soren withdrew his wind tome. He’d been with the Greil Mercenaries long enough to know it always ended in a fight.

 

Darkness fell, and Oliver’s brilliantly lit mansion became an unusual battleground. His opulent tables and bureaus were overturned and made into shields and barricades. His tapestries were cut, oiled, and wrapped around arrowheads for flaming projectiles. Brocade drapes and silk tablecloths were ripped to shreds and used to bind wounds. Blood spattered a rainbow of carpets and plush rugs. Ancient weaponry was torn from the walls and put to practical use.

Soren tried to pace himself, knowing the battle would be a long, but he could hardly catch his breath between spells. Having purchased a sheaf of Thunder spells recently, he added crackling bolts of lightning to his repertoire of blade-like winds and balls of fire.

 

Despite the strain and danger, Soren enjoyed the simplicity of mercenary work. All he had to do was maim or kill the nearest enemy, and another would take their place. They all tried to kill him, but with no more or less animosity than if he weren’t small and didn’t have a Brand in the center of his forehead. When there were finally no enemies left, the Apostle would see them paid for their work, and he would be compensated the same as any beorc who killed other beorc. Yes, being a sell-sword, a hired blade, a tool—it was an excellent equalizer.

Therefore, Soren was annoyed when one of the soldiers seemed reluctant to do battle and suddenly fled. He was disrupting the equation of blood for coin, and Soren was forced to pursue. 

“*Spirits of wind, follow my hand. Blast their flesh*,” he chanted. The fleeing soldier narrowly missed the attack, but he was now trapped in a dead-end corridor. Soren placed himself between the soldier and the nearest door, successfully cornering the coward.

“Uh-oh. This won’t do,” he muttered under his breath.

Go ahead, beg for your life, Soren thought, but he didn’t utter a killing spell. He had to admit this soldier looked different than the others in the Tanas guard. He could have information, so Soren let him keep talking.

“Youngsters like you aren’t supposed to be fighting, you know?” He shook his head.

“What was that?” Soren snapped and considered killing him after all. He eyed the soldier’s scuffed orange armor and ratty green scarf. He didn’t look like an imperial regular. And judging by his dark skin and Begnion accent, he was more likely from Persis or Culbert than Tanas. “And who are you supposed to be?” he decided to ask.

“Devdan is not supposed to be anyone. Devdan was imprisoned for looking at the flower garden. The punishment for trespassing is to work here for an entire year—” the man shook his head mournfully “—without pay, unfortunately.”

“What then?” Soren scowled. If Ike were here, he would order him to stand down, but Soren kept his finger between the pages of his tome, ready to end this man’s life in an instant. “Are you telling me this so that I will let you go?”

“A moment! Wait a moment! Devdan does not fight children.” The indentured soldier dropped his halberd and threw his arms in the air.

Soren didn’t know what he despised more: how this man referred to himself in the third person or how he continued to call him a child. He considered killing him merely for these crimes, but he knew what Ike would want him to do in this situation. “If that’s true, then why not switch sides and join us? If you become a member of the Greil Mercenaries, we would pay you for your services.”

Devdan seemed overjoyed. “That would be an honor! Please, allow Devdan to join you!”

Soren turned his back, intent on returning to the heart of the battle. “Our contract is complete then. I will pass along the terms of the agreement to our commander, Ike,” he called over his shoulder, “Now, I expect you to do your best.” Just try calling me a child again, he thought.

“Understood. Devdan is a very hard worker.”

Soren darted off and soon found Ike. He explained the addition to their group, and the openhearted commander smiled broadly at his uncharacteristic display of mercy. (It was almost enough to make Soren rescind the offer). But then Ike stared spreading the word, so none of the mercenaries would attack Devdan. Most of the fighting was over anyway. They’d locked down the final floor of the central building, and the remaining soldiers were fleeing.

“C’mon!” Ike yanked Soren’s arm. “We still have to find Tanas and that heron.”

Mist ran ahead of them. “Follow me!” she called, speeding down the corridor and up some stairs. Soren and Ike were right behind her. “It’s that room,” she finally announced, pointing at a modest door at the top of the tower.

“Hey! Where are you, Duke Tanas?” Ike called loudly, hammering on the door. “Are you in here?”

“Stand back,” Soren ordered. Ike obeyed, and he smashed the lock and blew open the door. Ike and Mist leapt inside.

“Ah! Noo!” Oliver screamed. Ike lunged but was too late. The duke escaped through another secret passage, one which was already open and through which he’d been trying to coax the heron. An iron-reinforced door slid shut behind him.

Ike threw himself at it, but there was no handle and the door was clearly wedged tightly in place. “Duke Tanas…” he growled.

“Who are you?” demanded the heron. He was just as Mist had described and undeniably beautiful. He looked more like a depiction of Ashera’s angels than a laguz. But his eyes gave him away. They were feral and furious. He clutched a burn on his right arm and bared his teeth.

“You’re the Serenes…” Ike trailed off as if surprised. “Are you hurt? We’ve come to help you.” He noticed the burn, which was probably the result of light magic. “Your arm—” he gritted his teeth “—did that man do that to you? This wound must be treated at once.” He reached out before Soren could warn him it was a bad idea.

The heron slapped his hand away, and Ike froze in astonishment. “Stay back,” he hissed.

“But…”

“Do not approach me, accursed human!” The heron shuffled backward to the window. “Remember the genocide. Twenty years have passed, but I will never forgive what you did!” With that, he twisted around and jumped. He fell in a cascade of shattered glass. 

Ike lunged after him in defiance, and Soren pulled him back. “No, Ike, don’t be an idiot!”

The heron stretched his vast white wings and was soon gliding over the estate grounds toward a forest beyond. Soren realized it must be the edge of the Serenes Swamp—once home to the herons.

Mist was frantic, and once Ike had retreated from the window, he tried to console her. Soren sighed heavily, letting exhaustion roll over him. The battle for the day was over, but their mission for Sanaki was far from complete. They’d just lost both their quarries.

Having heard the breaking glass, Boyd and Brom came racing in with axes at the ready.

“Get that door open!” Ike ordered as soon as they arrive. “I want to know where that passage goes.”

“Aye-aye, Boss!” Boyd saluted.

Ike stormed out of the room with Mist in tow. Soren hurried after them. “Duke Tanas escaped! Sweep the mansion again!” Ike called down the stairs, and shouts of affirmation sounded back at him.

  

They searched the estate from top to bottom but didn’t find the duke. Lethe followed his scent through the secret passages all the way to an outlet at the edge of the Serenes. At first light, Stefan (who was evidently a talented tracker as well as swordsman), examined the churned earth and reported that the duke had taken a great many soldiers and servants into the forest—including over three hundred army regulars. The barracks behind his villa had emptied completely.

The mercenaries made camp in the overturned mansion, and from here Soren planned their pursuit. This included gathering intelligence on the vast swamp. When asked about it, the local famers murmured quick prayers to Ashera. They explained that it was cursed, that no one went there. When Ike pointed out that their duke had just gone there, they confessed that Duke Oliver Tanas was known to send his private soldiers into the swamp on mysterious hunting missions—always accompanied by a priest of course. They also noted that he would occasionally venture into the woods himself, but that he was safe because he was a holy man. Ike snorted at such an idea.

At around noon, the mercenaries were greeted by a large procession trundling up to the mansion. Members of the Holy Guard glided in a column overhead, and a battalion of soldiers marched on either side of three imperial carriages, each of which bore the emblem of the apostle.

Soren didn’t quite believe it until the child empress herself dismounted from the lead wagon. Elincia stepped down behind her—wearing some ridiculous gown Sanaki must have dressed her in. The pair were received by a hastily prepared Ike, Titania, and Nasir, but Soren held back with the other mercenaries. He couldn’t hear their exchange, but a moment later, Nasir was guiding them into the mansion as if it were his own.

The party conversed in the least-destroyed parlor on the first floor, while Soren waited under the suspicious eyes of four pegasus knights guarding the door. When the meeting was finally over, Sanaki and Elincia were guided to the encampment being assembled outside. Through the windows at the end of the hall, Soren could see red and gold pennants fluttering atop a pavilion that has just been erected. Apparently they were here to stay.

When Ike and the others didn’t emerge from the room, Soren went to them.

“You know,” Ike was saying, “Sanaki really is alright.”

“What do you mean?” Titania asked.

Soren sat in one of the over-stuffed chairs.

Ike nodded to acknowledge his presence before answering her question. “She is really determined to help bridge the gap between beorc and laguz.”

Nasir leaned over to fill Soren in: “The Apostle has just told Ike the tale of Serenes.”

Soren had heard the story. In fact, he’d read several firsthand accounts in the Mainal archives. Twenty years ago, the previous apostle—Sanaki’s grandmother—had been murdered, along with much of the imperial family, the Holy Guard, and the apostle’s retainers. Rumors had run rampant that the perpetrators were Begnion’s otherwise peaceful neighbor: the nation of Serenes. The citizenry had risen up to avenge their beloved empress, slaughtering the herons and burning the entire forest. The heron race had been annihilated. Some believed a handful of survivors had been granted asylum in Phoenicis, but numbers were never confirmed. 

The violence had lasted for weeks, and it hadn’t been confined to Serenes. All across Begnion, parties of bloodthirsty humans had hunted down recently freed slaves and anyone suspected of being Branded. Most were tortured and ‘purified’ before being killed. Once the flames had died down, Serenes’ vast woodland had become nothing but a putrid swamp. Only poisonous mold and lichen grew there now, and even those struggled. Despite the land’s uselessness, it had been absorbed into the Begnion Empire.

Titania looked distressed. “Yes, I’d heard of it before. It happened while I was serving in Gallia. It caused a lot of anti-beorc sentiment among the laguz. Luckily it was with Gallia that Crimea held its exchange program. If I had been in Kilvas or Phoenicis at the time, I am certain I would have been torn limb from limb.”

“It was awful,” Ike agreed. “But Sanaki is actually trying to make up for it as best she can, and she’s just a kid.”

“It is indeed noble,” Nasir agreed. “The wound she is attempting to heal is still fresh to many laguz, but the cause is much older.”

Soren wasn’t stirred by their words. The genocide of the herons had occurred before his birth, which made it history as far as he was concerned. He wasn’t a native of Begnion either, so there was no reason for him to shoulder the guilt. The same was true for Ike. That heron had been wrong to accuse him.

“Anyway.” Ike’s voice sounded optimistic. “She’s sending us on one last mission. She wants us to search the dead forest until we find Duke Tanas and the Serenes prince.”

Soren agreed they should accept the mission. It may not be their job to unite the races or apologize for Begnion’s crimes, but they were mercenaries and they would fulfill their contracts.

 

Soren watched dawn creep over the scratchy black branches of the dead forest. They looked like skeletal hands reaching up, trying to grasp the pinkening sky. The mercenaries were using the Tanas estate as a home base during their mission. The parlor he occupied was dark save for the two candles by which he worked. He was writing a report of yesterday’s foray into the Serenes Swamp.

Two fruitless days had passed, and in a few hours, they would embark again. Sanaki had stationed soldiers along the forest’s edge, and the mercenaries had been scouring different sections each day. There was no clean water or edible food in the swamp, so neither the heron nor Oliver could have gone far. Then again, the heron could fly and may have already turned about and escaped south. Soren could only hope something was tying him to this cursed place. Oliver seemed to think so, considering his soldiers were still searching day and night.

“Is that you, Soren?” Ike’s voice broke the silence. “You’re up early.”

“Actually, I’m always awake at this time.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You’re the one who’s up earlier than normal,” he pointed out quizzically.

Ike sighed and rested his forehead against the wall beside the window. “I want to finish our mission today. I think my nervous energy woke me up.”

“I understand…” Soren knew how passionate he was about this job. Of course, Ike was passionate about every job, and he inspired his mercenaries to passion as well. But this was different. He wanted to help Sanaki unite the races as if the task were personal. “These past two days spent searching for that heron have been frustrating,” he sympathized. “I’d like to think he’s in there somewhere, but…” he trailed off, glancing at the maps he’d been working on. They were covered in the marks he’d been using to track their progress, but the forest was simply too large to search effectively.

“I agree, and Duke Tanas’s men are still hunting away,” Ike grumbled. “They must think the heron is still there was well.”

“Assuming both Tanas and the heron found a place to hunker down within the first twenty-four hours and have since stayed there, the only place left is the heart of our search area.” Soren pointed to the empty section on the map. “That’s where we should go today. With luck, we may finally locate our targets.” Soren knew that was where the forest would be densest and the blight worst. Progress would be slow, and they would have Oliver’s soldiers to contend with.

Ike seemed to read his mind. “I get the feeling it’s going to be a long day,” he groaned. Soren gave him the report before he left, and Ike skimmed it disinterestedly. Sigrun had paid them thirty-five hundred gold, despite the fact that their last mission had been largely a failure. “We’d better find Duke Tanas today,” he growled.

The rest of the Greil Mercenaries woke up within the next hour, and preparations were made for the day’s search. A local priest even appeared with an offer to help. Apparently he’d been one of the local clergy enlisted for Oliver’s numerous expeditions for surviving herons. The priest was assigned to Soren, and Ike ordered them to consult the maps together on the way to the forest.

“Why are you doing this?” Soren asked, when the work was done. If the young man was still loyal to Oliver, he could be leading them astray. 

The wagon jostled as they went over a bump in the road. The young cleric winced, and Soren didn’t know if it was the lurch or the answer that pained him. “I have lived on the Duke’s plantation my entire life. My parents served him as well. I regret to admit they took part in the burning of Serenes twenty years ago.”

The priest returned to the maps, running his gaze over the safe paths he’d marked and the ruins he recommended they search. He said no more, as if that explanation was enough.

To Soren’s annoyance, he was forced to push further. “So?”

The cleric looked surprised. “It was a terrible sin and they beg for forgiveness from Ashera, praying in the agony of guilt to this day. I must help make amends for their transgression against the herons.”

Soren frowned. This sounded just like Ike and Sanaki’s motivation. They were not being logical. “You didn’t commit the crime. Even if you help, why should your parents feel any better for it? Under what delusion do you believe you should try to help them? What do you owe them that you would take a portion of their guilt? I do not understand.”

The cleric had sympathy in his eyes. “You’ve never known loving parents, have you?”

Soren was affronted but hid his emotions. “Indeed no. Apparently, I’ve been spared any illogical obligations for others’ crimes. We are done here.” Gathering up the maps, he dismounted from the convoy wagon. Fortunately, he stumbled only slightly and was able to join the other mercenaries with some degree of grace. He fell in step behind Mist, who was riding a brown pony—a gift from the empress.

Titania had been teaching her to ride since they’d arrived in Begnion, and she sat well. A small sword was attached to the saddle, and the sheath of chainmail she wore under her clothes shifted with the pony’s gait. After begging for three months at sea, she’d persuaded Ike to teach her the basics of swordsmanship (most of which she already knew from watching him and Greil train). Now here she was with a blade and steed of her own. A Heal staff was thrown over her back on a leather strap, and a Mend staff was latched to the saddle on the side opposite the sword. Soren found himself wondering what Greil would think if he could see his little girl marching off to battle. What am I doing? he scolded himself. What do I care? She’s not my family. I’m not responsible for anyone here.

Peering into the gloom before them, Soren determined that their mission had to end today. The sooner the mercenaries pleased the apostle and got out of Begnion, the better. There was still the war with Daein to attend to. There was business to be done.