Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 2 ❯ CHAPTER 32: AN ARMY RISING ( Chapter 1 )

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

In the days following the Serenes resolution, history occurred in triplicate. Firstly, the herons and hawks returned to Phoenicis with a newfound tolerance for Begnion and its young ruler. Although Sanaki wouldn’t cede the revitalized forest back to the herons, she did invite them to visit whenever they pleased. She also vowed her people would never use it for lumber nor build a road through it, thus preserving the forest as a natural sanctuary.

 Sanaki also promised Tormod and Muarim she would support the Laguz Emancipation Army in its effort to eradicate illegal slaveholding, as long as it disbanded as an army and instead became an advocacy coalition. As a sign of good faith, she granted all freed slaves Begnion citizenship and protection under the law.

Most importantly of all, Sanaki vowed to help restore Crimea to its rightful rule. Although she wouldn’t conscript soldiers nor order her armies to march under the Crimean flag, she managed to amass a force of five thousand volunteers. These soldiers were tempted by the gold and pension bonuses Sanaki offered, which exceeded their regular pay. Upon walking among the troops, Soren realized they were further incentivized by the chance to win glory in a campaign against Daein, which had been considered a cultural enemy of Begnion since their secession. These soldiers—along with the small mercenary regiment Ike had grown since Gallia—now comprised the Crimea Liberation Army.

Sanaki claimed she wanted to do more, but Sephiran was traveling (once again in the disguise of a simple monk, Soren assumed) and she had little power without him. Ike and Elincia accepted this, but Soren suspected Sanaki was hedging her bets, giving them only what she was willing to lose.

Elincia wasted no time declaring Ike an official Crimean noble, a motion he accepted grudgingly. She wanted to grant him a portion of Ridell hold in Crimea, but he adamantly refused. Having to bestow some land to match his title, Elincia drew up a deed to the abandoned fort the mercenaries had long used as a base. She renamed it ‘Greil’s Retreat’, and if it was still standing after the war, Ike would officially be its owner. This made Ike laugh. “A piece of paper can do that?” he asked.

Sanaki then named him General of the Crimea Liberation Army and signed his seal of office herself. “A piece of paper can do that?” Ike repeated, less lightheartedly this time. Sanaki gifted him new clothes of the finest cloth and armor of the finest leather and steel. Despite his age, he looked the part of a general. And yet he still looked like a mercenary too. He didn’t wear a full suit of armor like a soldier, nor did he stand with a soldier’s bearing. The steel he wore wasn’t painted Crimean cream nor Begnion crimson. Some of the Begnion soldiers had already begun referring to him as their ‘sell-sword general’, and Soren wondered what the historians of the future would say.

 

The plan was to conquer Daein. It sounded ambitious—perhaps even ridiculous—but Soren agreed it was the best plan they had. The Liberation Army would enter Daein through Begnion’s northern border, flying Crimean colors. Once they broke through the initial defenses along the Great Wall of Ivelt, the real work would begin. They would cut through their enemy’s homelands, using their modest army to defeat the king’s army in every major township until they had the nation in a chokehold. They would gain leverage and squeeze until Ashnard was forced to release Crimea back to Elincia. If need be, they would even seize the capital city of Nevassa, where they would confront King Ashnard and personally demand the removal of all his troops from Crimea. If he refused to surrender, he would be eliminated.

“The conquest may well take a year,” Soren informed Ike gently. “A hundred and thirty years ago, Daein fought the Begnion Empire for their independence and won. That strength endures today. They are no pushover.”

“It’s already been a year,” Ike replied resignedly, “since you came running into the fort with news of war.” He shook his head. “What’s another one?”

Soren didn’t know what to say, but he to reassure him, “It’s a longshot, but it’s our only one. We can’t move the army by sea, and even if we managed, trying to purge the Daein forces from Crimea with a sea-weakened army would be futile.

“So it has to be this way,” Ike said, “and it has to be me.” He looked sad.

Soren was surprised. It hadn’t occurred to him that Ike might struggle with his new role as general. “You mustn’t let your men see you this way,” was all he could think to advise.

Ike’s mouth turned into the shadow of a smile. “I am not letting my men see me this way. I am letting you see me this way. There’s a difference.”

Soren was silent for a few moments, not knowing what Ike needed. “I will see this through to the end, if you will,” he finally said. He hoped it was the right thing to say.

It seemed to work. Ike stood taller and set his jaw. He had a strip of green cloth in his hand, and now he tied the band around his head. Ever since Soren had returned from Melior to fight beside his friend on the battlefield, Ike had been wearing bands like these to keep the hair and sweat out of his eyes. Seeing him in it now, Soren thought he looked ready to lead his mercenaries into the fray.

 

Eventually the Greil Mercenaries abandoned the comforts of Sienne, and the cool autumn breeze pushed the Crimea Liberation Army north. At this rate, they would be invading much of Daein in the winter, which wasn’t ideal. But Soren counted his advantages. Acting now might catch Daein off guard. The Liberation Army was small and mobile while Daein’s standing army was large and spread out. They would have difficulty gathering information, moving troops and supplies, and coordinating their movements through the ice and snow. The Liberation Army, on the other hand, just had to keep moving and avoid dying of exposure.

Tanith and a contingent of four hundred Holy Guards had joined the army, as did Tormod and Muarim. Since Sanaki was protecting their laguz friends, they’d vowed to fight beside Ike to show their gratitude. As for Jill, she’d agreed to formally forsake her homeland and join the Greil Mercenaries. She explained that she’d been wrong to think laguz were monsters and wrong to think Daein had the right to invade Crimea. She claimed to want to correct these mistakes and teach her people the truth. Stefan, Makalov, Devdan, Astrid, and Gatrie were all equally adamant about remaining with the Liberation Army.

“I don’t think you knew what you were signing on for when you agreed to fight with us,” Ike had said to them. “You can leave now with no shame. There’s no need for you to march with us to war.” But they’d refused, saying they would follow Ike anywhere. (In Gatrie’s case, it was a particularly tearful declaration.) Even the merchants they’d picked up in Gebal insisted on remaining with the company, claiming they were making good money as sutlers.

Much to Soren’s unease, Nasir had also decided to stay and serve as an advisor to Ike—albeit unofficial and unpaid. Ike welcomed the dragon with open arms, so Soren didn’t speak against it. But he would have been happier without the man’s calculating gaze on the back of his and Ike’s heads.

 

These companions and more marched north to the knife-edged mountains that stretched southeast to northwest, separating Begnion and Daein. Here in the steep cliffs, it was already beginning to snow.

When they’d seceded from the empire, Daein’s best engineers had erected massive stretches of wall in this mountain range, filling the gaps and making it as strong a border as the Erzt Mountains between Begnion and Gallia. The Great Wall of Ivelt was still in excellent repair, and crossing was only possible at the various fort-like entry points. They were sure to be well-guarded, and passing through would be the first hurdle of the campaign.

Wind was whistling through the strategy tent the night before the invasion, and Soren was poring over his maps and plans for the first assault. It was only now, as he tried to keep the papers down with stone weights, that he realized he was returning to Daein for the first time since he’d been four years old.

Despite this revelation, he didn’t think of Daein with any loyalty or fondness. Galina’s hovel had been no more a home to him that Sileas’s house in Gallia. Neither did Soren consider Crimea his homeland, despite his years spent there and all he was about to do to win it back. If he were forced name his ‘home’, he supposed it would be with Ike and the Greil Mercenaries. With this thought in mind, he vowed to do his best as the tactician of this army.  

 

They’d made camp a couple hours south of the wall fort known as Tor Garen. This would be the first test of the war. If they couldn’t breach Ivelt quickly, reinforcements would come and they’d never breach it at all. The war would be over before it even began.

The troops sat around campfires and in tents telling stories about ‘Mad’ King Ashnard. They recounted how he’d miraculously risen to the throne after thirty-four thousand of his countrymen (and the majority of the royal family) had died in a terrible plague. They said he’d been born from the ashes like a phoenix, pulling his nation together, ending the plague, and surrounding himself with Tellius’s best fighters—the most powerful of which were known as the Four Riders. The shared rumors, out of fear and respect, that he fought like a blood-crazed demon. They bemoaned the fact that they had no chance to defeat him, but they were excited the face him too. 

Soren could have laughed. They actually expected to reach Nevassa, when tomorrow would tell if they would even set foot in Daein. But he did not laugh, because he had more important things to think about than the soldiers’ misjudged confidence. He’d been busy spying on Nasir these past last weeks, and from his investigations, he had a hypothesis.

Despite being Goldoan, Nasir was allied with Gallia and an acquaintance of Ranulf. After successfully guiding Elincia to Begnion, he’d become interested in Sanaki’s interference in the smuggling of feral laguz and her confrontation of illegal slaveholding. Having observed him these past few weeks, Soren had also discovered Nasir possessed a strange crystal that apparently served as a communication device. (Either that, or he was actually insane and fancied whispering to rocks in his spare time.) Although Soren could never get close enough to hear, he assumed the dragon was using the stone to send messages to Gallia. Considering these factors, Soren deduced that Nasir was indeed a spy for the beast kingdom.

This was not particularly damning. If Soren were King Caineghis, he too would have sent a spy to evaluate the princess’s potential and the odds of the war. And yet a foreboding feeling itched at the back of his mind. Ike and Elincia had both proven themselves. They had earned the trust and resources of the apostle and were now marching to attack Daein. Surely Nasir’s mission was over. He should have been able to tell Caineghis that the beorc and laguz had reached a workable relationship and that Crimea had a chance of winning this war and deserved some aid. But why then had he chosen to come to Daein, and why did he insist on keeping his true role a secret?

Soren supposed it was possible Nasir wanted to see how they performed in their first battle. Or perhaps, like Jill, Astrid, and the others, he’d been won over by Ike’s determination and wanted to help. But he doubted this was the case. Nasir wasn’t that emotional, and he didn’t even fight. (Ike was most persuasive on the battlefield.) Soren shook his head to rid himself of the speculation.

“Hey, Soren, how are you?” Ike’s weary voice jogged Soren from his contemplation. “You look perplexed.” He yawned.

Soren regained his composure. “Do not worry about my stress. I can tell you are enduring far more.”

Ike shrugged, but the shadows under his eyes and his haunted expression betrayed him. “Well, I never expected to be general of an army,” he reminded. “I never even thought I would be commander of the Greil Mercenaries at my age. I thought my dad would run the group for years. But now he’s gone and I have to take care of everybody. Not to mention everyone is asking me what to do and where to go, even Tanith and her Holy Guards.” He shook his head numbly.

“If Tanith is asking you for orders, then she must respect you. You should accept such a situation with confidence not uncertainty,” Soren advised.

“I know you’re right, but still…”

Soren narrowed his eyes. “If you do not believe you are suited for it, perhaps you should step down. I am sure Elincia can find another general to lead her troops.”

Ike frowned, but a moment later, his anger melted and he laughed. “You are just the one I needed to talk to, Soren. You’re right, of course. I’m sure I’ll get used to it soon.”

“As am I,” Soren assured.

Ike smirked. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“Not in the least.”

Ike chuckled at that, and Soren was glad he could make him feel better.

Just then, Elincia appeared at the tent flap. “My lord Ike, are preparations complete?” she asked brightly. With a reassuring nod at Ike, Soren took his leave.

 

Early the next morning, when they were just about to depart for the wall, they were visited by King Tibarn, his two closest attendants, and the two heron siblings. This was a surprise, because they were all supposed to be back in Phoenicis. Soren had never expected to see the bird-men again. He, Ike, Titania, Nasir, and Elincia met with them in the strategy tent, which was fortunately one of the few that hadn’t been dismantled yet.

Tibarn wasted no time declaring that Ike’s work in the Serenes Forest had earned the king’s trust and aid in this war. Although he couldn’t provide any troops without the Phoenician council’s permission, he’d agreed to let Reyson fight in the Liberation Army, and Reyson surprised everyone by wanting to join despite his distrust for beorc. The king also loaned Ike his attendants—Janaff and Ulki—as soldiers in his army and protectors of the prince.

As loath as Soren was to accept more laguz members, he wasn’t so stubborn that he would refuse such a boon in fighting strength. The heron’s galdr magic would be quite advantageous, and apparently the hawks Janaff and Ulki were gifted with extraordinary sight and hearing respectively, making them excellent scouts. Soren immediately began incorporating these units into his strategies.

Tibarn and Leanne flew south, the remnants of the camp were packed, and Ike walked to the head of his army. “Now,” he called to his troops, “Let’s really get started. Everyone, move out!” He signaled Tanith and the commanders of the Begnion phalanxes. The army divided into three battalions that would hit the wall at three different entry points simultaneously (as was Soren’s plan). The Greil Mercenaries and Holy Guards would take Tor Garen while two of Ike’s lieutenants led assaults on Tor Ivan in the west and Tor Ilsen in the east.

 

The wall fort was comprised of two thick stone walls, which created an enclosed space with staggered entrances. It offered shelter from the cold mountain winds, living quarters for the soldiers stationed here, and three tiers of arrow loops promising a hellish rain on any who sought forced entry. That being said, there were no ballistae or other anti-siege weaponry, which was why Soren had chosen Tor Garen in the first place.

To get into Daein, they would have to survive the long stairs, break into the Begnion-facing entrance, pass through the fort, and exit via the nearest Daein-facing entrance—all while fighting the garrison and their arrows.

As soon as they reached the winding mountain staircase, Soren was disturbed by Daein’s preparedness. Janaff and Ulki proved their worth by reporting an ambush hiding in crevasses and behind rocks halfway up the cliff. Ike slowed the battalion, while Tanith, the hawks, and the rest of the Holy Guards investigated. Sure enough, they discovered small bands of soldiers with gray-brown cloaks and mud caked onto their skin to hide their scent from the beast laguz. They were heavily armed and some were even waiting to spring boulder straps. They must have had ample warning and yet specific enough knowledge to know the Liberation Army was attacking today.

But there was no turning back now. Once they came within range of the wall, they were incessantly bombarded by arrows. It seemed every loophole was manned, and Soren imagined the fort was full with archers—certainly more than the usual sentry garrison. He, Ilyana, and a couple Begnion mages wove a continuous wall of wind to divert most of the arrows, but some still got through. Defenseless units like Rolf and Rhys were blocked by armored units like Gatrie and Titania (whose horse was bedecked in newly forged steel), and many of the Begnion soldiers raised wide pavises above their heads.

When they reached the top, Tormod (who was surprisingly skilled for his age) brought enormous balls of fire crashing upon the gate, interchanged with battering attacks from Mordecai and Muarim. Eventually the wood and iron gave way, and army was in.

As Soren had suspected from the sheer number of arrows, Tor Garen was packed. But of course, they weren’t all archers. Shield knights, swordsmen, halberdiers, axmen, and mages awaited them inside—all armored and well-armed. It was undeniable that Daein had known they were coming.

If Soren were the enemy commander and had had time to prepare for the coming assault, his strategy would have been to trap the Liberation Army in the fort and slaughter them from both sides. With this in mind, he warned Ike to leave some of the winged units guarding the entrance, so they could retreat if need be.

When the mercenaries and the majority of the soldiers were fighting well into the interior of the fort (heading east), reinforcements appeared from the west section off the wall, just as Soren had predicted. But Tanith and her pegasus knights were guarding their rear, and they did their job well—flanking the reinforcements from the entryway and taking them by surprise. Soren breathed a sigh of relief and immediately regretted it. Daein may have more surprises for us today, he reminded himself.

And so they did: ravens. Two hundred laguz like those they’d fought at sea suddenly swooped from the shadowy rafters. Outside, over three hundred more rose from the forest. They attacked the pegasus knights, who swiftly retreated inside to avoid being overwhelmed. But the ravens were right behind them. For a moment, Soren couldn’t see anything down the hall except for all the feathers in the air. They may have avoided Daein’s initial trap, but now they were fighting on both sides anyway.

Ike’s voice called over the turmoil, ordering the army to regroup: “Archers to the back! Watch those crows and keep their talons on the floor! Pikes up front! Daein’s not squishing us without getting pricked! If you’ve got a shield, make a wall—front and back! We hold here! Jill, Janaff, Ulki, use the rafters!” He strode confidently through the throng of soldiers, and Soren was amazed at how easily he took control of the situation on both ends.

At his order, Tanith prepared her knights for a charge, riding seven abreast. It was difficult to make enough room to build momentum, but Ike encouraged everyone to squeeze back until the charge began. It was a risk, leaving a thin line of archers and shield-bearers to hold back the ravens. But they held their ground until the moment Tanith ordered them to make way. Then they pressed themselves to the walls, allowing the winged horses to canter past, impaling the ravens on lances and not stopping until they were far down the hall. The rest of the soldiers flooded to seize the ground they’d claimed. Thus were they able to stave off the rear assault.

Next Ike assigned Soren and the other mages to the catwalks on either side of the hall. These provided access to the second and third levels of arrow loops, but now they served as a higher vantage point from which Soren could fire upon the Daein soldiers. Supported by the barrage of wind, fire, and lightning, Ike personally led the charge. At his command, the Begnion soldiers lifted their shields, broke their lines, and pushed against the Daeins with all of their strength. They could finally make progress again.

The battle was far from over, but the fighting was more spread out. No longer pinched into a tight space, the seventeen hundred troops under Ike’s command were able to capitalize on their superior numbers. They raced through the long hall like trails of fire as they searched for the exit.

The crisis now over, Soren fell back slightly so he could catch his breath and finally allow his surprise to wash over him. Kilvas had allied itself with Daein; it didn’t make sense. Although Daein was the only beorc nation not share a border with laguz, they were known for their particularly ardent hatred of laguz-kind. (Then again, perhaps that was why they were able to maintain such a pure national bigotry). The Daein citizenry should never have consented to subhuman aid, the Daein Army should never have asked for it, and Kilvas should never have accepted such a request. Soren wondered how their pride could allow them to work with humans.

That being said, the Kilvans were undeniably here. What made sense didn’t matter, and his busied thoughts were making him negligent. “Get your head out of the clouds!” scolded Mia, who cut down a swordsman charging at him. Soren didn’t need to be told twice. He flipped through his tome until he came to his Elwind spells and decided he would make the crows regret fighting indoors.

 

Before long, they neared Tor Garen’s northern exit. Daein soil was so close, but the garrison had to be fully eliminated if they were going to seize this point of entry. That being said, they were finally winning, and morale swung high with Ike calling encouragement to close friends and unfamiliar foot soldiers alike.

The Greil Mercenaries had coalesced into an unofficial vanguard, driving the head of the army and crashing through each new defensive line Daein threw together. But their vigor petered out when they came to an obstacle they couldn’t power through: one of their own.

“…My arrows will find you no matter where you run!” laughed the familiar voice.

Jill’s wyvern fell from the rafters like a rock. The beast screamed pitifully, while she frantically removed arrows from its leathery underbelly. Every arrow had expertly avoided the ventral plating. Devdan and Nephenee defended her, while Rhys darted in to heal the animal’s wounds. “There’s a fiend of an archer up ahead,” Jill swore. But the warning was unnecessary; the original Greil Mercenaries would have known that snide voice anywhere.

Soren, Ike, and the others surged forth, easily breaking through the barricade of Daein soldiers. Then Rolf surprised everyone with a burst of speed. He ducked and dived until he was at the front of the group, where he climbed to the top of some debris. “Shinon?” he asked above the clash of battle.

“Rolf, get down from there!” Oscar hissed, but the boy remained.

Soren and the others defended him while he scanned the Daein hoard. Shinon soon appeared, notching an arrow as he walked forward. “Rolf…” he said, eyeing the thirteen-year-old from head to toe.

“Shinon, it is you!” he cried excitedly, rushing down from his perch. The Daein forces surged forward, and Soren lost both archers from view. Oscar and Boyd shouted for their brother, and Soren understood their fear—Shinon was fighting for Daein, and he was not the sentimental type. The danger to Rolf was considerable.

However, Rolf reappeared a couple minutes later, sobbing but apparently uninjured. Oscar and Boyd rushed to protect him, their faces contorted in fear and guilt. They ferried the boy behind the mercenaries’ front line. There Ike fell back to hear Rolf’s report: Shinon would not be rejoining them. His face made it clear he wasn’t happy about this, but Soren couldn’t understand the sobering effect this had on the others. Shinon had never been particularly popular.

“Well, we’re not makin’ any pro’ress as it is,” Nephenee spoke up. “I don’t know ‘em. I’ll do it.” She hefted a javelin to her shoulder and marched forward before anyone could stop her. She scanned the enemy ranks until she found Shinon. They traded shots and dodges while the rest of the mercenaries occupied the Daein troops. Their battle brought them closer until Shinon rolled back and fired an arrow deep into her side. She cried out in agony, dropping her spear to clutch the place where the fletching protruded. Ike immediately called her back (which in reality meant Brom jogged out to drag her back), and he took her place.

They fought in close combat, Ike slashing and Shinon dodging and blocking with his bow. Shinon retreated when he could and shot arrow after arrow, but Ike was fast. He narrowly dodged the projectiles, earning deep grazes on his face, neck, shoulders, arms. He pursued Shinon in circles, and he was relentless.

“I always knew it would come to this, Ike,” Shinon panted.

“Shinon…” Ike shook his head, panting just as hard.

Shinon was the worse off, but he knocked another arrow. “Watch yourself!”

Ike lunged forward, dodging the arrow while the last steps between them disappeared.

Shinon crumpled onto Ike’s blade, almost as if he were hugging it. “Curses…” he whispered.

Soren and Titania ran to Ike’s side while the other mercenaries pushed ahead to keep the Daein forces at bay.

“Don’t move,” Ike ordered huskily. He’d cut off his cape and was now wrapping Shinon’s abdomen with the cloth. “You’ll tear the wound wide open.” His tone was strict, but his eyes were moist.

“What’re you planning?” Shinon patronized. “D-do it now.” He grabbed Ike by the collar of his shirt. “Finish me…idiot.” With that, he passed out.

“Find Rhys!” Ike ordered Soren, “Shinon’s coming with us.”

Soren was no longer surprised by Ike’s capacity for mercy. He cared for everyone, even his enemies, and Shinon had once been a friend, of sorts. Soren felt a slight prickling in his stomach, like unease but gentler. “Of course, Ike,” he replied.

As he searched for the healer, Soren decided there was good reason to keep Shinon alive, and it had nothing to do with being a deserter or a friend. The fact of the matter was that he might be able to tell them how Daein had known they were coming today, and that was something Soren desperately wanted to know.

 

Flooding through the northern gate, the Liberation Army poured into the cool air and chased the retreating Kilvan and Daein soldiers down the mountainside until Ike ordered them not to pursue. They regrouped to deal with the enemy soldiers still stuck inside Tor Garen or otherwise unable to escape. These stragglers refused Ike’s demand to surrender and were cheerfully picked off by the Begnion victors.

Everyone began to relax until Soren reminded Ike that there was still more work to be done. The other two battalions hadn’t had Janaff and Ulki to warn them of ambushes, nor Ike’s clear-headed leadership in the face of an unexpected pincer attack. Assuming Daein’s strategy had been the same at every fort, they could require aid at this very moment. Leaving an infirmary camp and modest guard behind, Soren advised Ike divide his force and move out to support the other battalions at once. Tanith led one and Ike the other, while Titania remained at Tor Garen. Despite his exhaustion, Soren insisted he go with Ike.

 

They fought until dusk and held the three forts while word of defeat spread east and west like wildfire. By midnight, Tanith’s scouts reported Daein and Kilvan soldiers fleeing north all across the Great Wall. In the coming days, Begnion would claim it, and Ivelt would under the control of the empire—something they’d desired since its erection. 

Leaving only small garrisons to clean up and attend the injured at Tor Ivan and Tor Ilsen, the majority of the army reconvened and established a basecamp in front of Tor Garen. Rhys, Mist, and the Begnion clerics had already spent hours saving their comrades’ lives and limbs, and there was no rest in sight.

After getting early casualty counts from Titania and hearing Tanith’s latest report, Ike and Soren touched base with the Begnion lieutenants. But it was clear this wasn’t where Ike wanted to be. Soren could guess his thoughts were on Shinon, and sure enough, he went to the archer’s infirmary tent as soon as the meeting was over. Soren was forced to stay and finish collecting everyone’s oral reports, but as soon as he was done, he rushed in the same direction.

He passed Ike just as he had exited the tent. “Well?” Soren asked.

“He’s going to stay and join us again, though he’s not entirely happy about it,” Ike replied with a satisfied smile. “Draw up a contract for him later?”

Soren wasn’t entirely surprised. “If you wish it,” he gave in, and once Ike had gone, he ducked into the tent. Shinon was lying in one of the cots, beside which lay a pair of unlocked manacles Soren could only assume Ike had removed. “Shinon,” he said, standing at the end of the bed, “wake up.”

His eyes opened a slit. “I wasn’t asleep, you pompous whelp.”

Soren ignored the insult. “Did Daein know we were coming today?”

“Well, of course they did,” he snorted, “A couple weeks ago we first knew it, and then they told us to all get ready yesterday morning. It was a lovely little trap if I do say so myself. Those Daein people know what they’re doing.”

“They lost.”

“I guess.”

“Do you happen to know how they came to have the knowledge of our numbers, target, and timing?” Soren asked next.

Shinon shrugged. “I was just a mercenary. They didn’t tell me nothing.”

“How very unhelpful.” He turned to go, but Shinon added:

“You’ve got to figure it’s a mole, right? Even you’re not that stupid.”

“Indeed, I am not.” Soren turned back to him.

“Then what’s with the questions?” he yawned. “Why do you care anyway?”

Soren was surprised but then realized he shouldn’t expect Shinon to know his position. “Because I am the tactician of this army,” he explained.

Shinon chuckled coldly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. After seeing Rolf out there killin’ folk like he was born to it. Guess li’l kids are running the show.”

Soren considered rebuking the insinuation, but Shinon wasn’t entirely wrong. “You should see the empress of Begnion, then,” he said, “You’d certainly get a kick out of that.”

Leaving Shinon confused, Soren exited the tent. The night air was bitter, and snow had begun drifting out of the black sky. He knew what he had to do next, but he didn’t like it.

 

He found the bird-men at the edge of camp. Ulki was listening and Janaff peering intently into the darkness. Soren felt the usual nervousness he experienced when speaking with laguz. As always, the fear ran through his mind that they would ignore him, that they’d look right through him, that they’d realize he was a ‘Parentless’.

However, they dutifully ceased their watchfulness to face him. “You are General Ike’s retainer, as we are for King Tibarn, aren’t you?” Ulki asked.

“I’m Soren.”

“Well, nice to meet you, kid!” Janaff held out his hand. When Soren made no motion to take it, he looked uncertain. “Uh, beorc shake hands, don’t they?” he whispered to Ulki.

Reyson stepped forward. “It is no fault of yours, Janaff. This human does not like laguz.”

“Oh.” Janaff dropped his hand. “What do you want then?”

“I am certain Daein was expecting us today, but I do not know how they acquired their intelligence. They did have the ravens’ help. I was wondering if there are any crows with abilities similar to yours.”

“There are none,” Ulki replied, narrowing his eyes, “and if there were, it is impossible they saw or heard us without our being aware of them.”

“I’ll second that,” Janaff agreed, “We wouldn’t be King Tibarn’s eyes and ears if we weren’t the best!”

“Understood.” Soren nodded. “That will be all.” He was aware of the birdmen’s piercing eyes on him all the way back to camp.

 

He’d nearly reached the strategy tent when he heard voices coming from inside. No one was currently on guard, which meant the soldiers currently on shift must have been dismissed. Rather than enter, Soren walked around back, where he could listen unobserved.

“You know, you never look relaxed,” Nasir’s voice was saying. “You should put your feet up for a moment.”

“Nasir,” Ike yawned. “Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen much of you lately.” He sounded tired, and Soren wondered if he’d sent the guards away for privacy or if Nasir had. The latter would be concerning, as the dragon had no authority to do such a thing.

“I’ve been a bit busy,” Nasir replied. “In order to leave Begnion, I had to sell my ship and dismiss my crew… There was a lot to take care of.”

They’d left Sienne weeks ago, which meant this was no excuse, but Ike didn’t challenge it. Soren remained completely still as he listened. If there was a traitor in the Liberation Army, Nasir was at the top of his list.

“Is that so?” Ike shook his head. “It looks like you’ve been caught up in our struggle after all. Are you alright with that? I mean, I know you’ve got a lot of your own matters to deal with.”

“It is not as if I’ve abandoned my own interests to join up with the Crimean army. I’ve judged that there’s value in traveling with you. So don’t worry about it overly much.”

That sounded suspicious—but Ike didn’t seem to think so.  “If you say so. You’re a pretty smart guy, so it’s nice having you around.”

“I think that’s mutual. Now then, I’ve got some good news.”

Soren leaned closer. Ike asked: “What is it?”

“Senior officials in Gallia are moving to action. Until now, they’ve been content to take a defensive stance and wait it out, but it appears this never-ending stalemate has exhausted their patience. Ike, this victory here today was a very important thing. It may prove to be a decisive first step in breaking Daein’s power. News of it will spread like wildfire over the entire continent and give countries confidence to speak out against Daein. With Crimea as a rallying point, Gallia may well be moved to join this war. You just need to keep winning. If you can do that, the road will open before you.”

Soren wondered where Nasir was getting his information from, or how he could claim to have a recent report. But again, Ike didn’t question him. “History will be made…” he said in awe. “Could Daein truly fall at our hands? Can I make that happen? Me?”

“Use what you’ve been given, and great things will happen,” encouraged Nasir, “You have it in you to lead, Ike. For now, it’s merely one portion of the bird tribes, but your relationship is established. It’s because you resolved to gain their trust, and then made it happen.”

Soren was surprised to feel a pang of jealousy. Ike had been uncomfortable since being named general, and Soren had tried to remind him of his own capability. That had temporarily comforted him, but now, Nasir made him sound genuinely confident.

“It’s all due to my father…” Ike’s voice wavered. “If my actions prove to be the right ones, it will be due to the way my father raised me. ‘If you treat others in good faith, they will follow you of their own volition’—that’s what he taught me.”

“He was a magnificent man, wasn’t he?” Nasir asked kindly.

“When I was younger, I wanted nothing more than to be as strong as my father. And then I wanted to surpass him… Now, that is a goal I’ll never achieve.” Ike sniffed.

Nasir said nothing.

“Sorry,” Ike grunted, and his voice returning to normal. “I should go.”

“Of course, a general’s work is never finished,” Nasir agreed.

Ike was soon gone, but Nasir seemed to have no intention of leaving. The night was growing colder, but Soren didn’t move either.

“Who’s there?” Nasir said after a while.

Soren came around to the front of the tent and, taking a breath, entered. He stood several steps away—out of range in case Nasir were to attack (although Soren doubted he’d try anything). He was sitting behind the folding desk, with Soren’s own plans and reports within easy reach of his prying eyes. But he was leaning back, and his gaze was settled fully on Soren.  

“Soren. What are you doing here?” He was trying to appear aloof as usual, but there was a crack in his easy veneer.

Soren decided to ask directly: “What are you planning?”

Nasir narrowed his eyes and smiled. “Where did that come from? I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Soren crossed his arms. “We’re past that. Gallia’s decision to join in this war was based on some new information they received, wasn’t it?”

Nasir said nothing. His expression was crooked, halfway between a smile and a scowl.

“Cat got your tongue? Fine. I’ll tell you what you’ve been doing here.” Soren took a step forward. He hadn’t intended for this confrontation to occur tonight, but now that it was here, he wasn’t going to back down. “You were to deliver Princess Crimea to Begnion to see if she could garner any support for her cause. And—regardless of whether she got that assistance or not—to judge if she was worthy of laguz support. Am I wrong?”

“If you’ve figured all of this out, why remain silent?” His demeanor was as irritating as ever.

 “Because your actions are beneficial to Princess Crimea. I’ve determined that even if left to your own devices, you would not harm her.”

“It sounds like you don’t think that’s the case anymore,” Nasir mused.

“You’ve accomplished both missions, but you’ve come back anyway.” Soren examined his face carefully, but Nasir betrayed nothing. “To what end?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“That’s true only until I reveal your purpose to Ike.”

Nasir narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “Everyone has a secret or two they want buried.” The corner of his mouth twisted cruelly. “Including you…Soren.”

His voice left him. His throat closed. His heart dashed through the passing seconds. When he finally judged he could speak again, he answered, albeit stiffly: “I don’t know what you mean.”

Nasir wasn’t fooled. “Oh, I trust we understand each other.”

Soren didn’t respond. He’d been caught off guard, and that made him afraid. Nasir had leverage on him, and that made him furious. But most of all, he was intrigued. By threatening to reveal the truth of his blood, Nasir had practically admitted he was up to no good. Merely being a spy for Gallia would have been a forgivable offense, but to threaten Soren like this meant Nasir was serious about keeping his activities a secret.

“The army rises early tomorrow. I suggest we turn in.” Nasir stood from the desk as if it were his own.

Frustrated that his prey was escaping, Soren decided to make a gamble: “The enemy knew we were coming today.” At least he could watch Nasir’s expression for any sign of guilt.

“And you think I’m responsible?” he asked innocently.

“Yes, I do.”

“My oh my...” he chuckled, “You really are suspicious, aren’t you?” His smile was patronizing, but when Soren didn’t retract his accusation, his expression darkened. “Good night, Soren,” he muttered before leaving.

Soren went to the desk to ascertain that nothing was missing, while debating whether he should bring the dragon’s behavior to Ike’s attention. He quickly determined that he could not. If Nasir leaked Soren’s secret, everyone would know he was a Branded. His life with the Greil Mercenaries would come to an abrupt end.

Even if Soren did tell Ike, he doubted he would believe him. Ike trusted and respected Nasir. He enjoyed his company and took comfort from him. No accusation Soren could make would overcome that friendship.

 

Soren allowed himself a few hours’ sleep and then made sure Ike got some too. When they were both awake again, the sun had risen, and the pair (plus Tanith, Titania, and Nasir) set about getting the convoy wagons through the wall. Ike had sent word of their victory as soon as the battle had concluded, and Elincia and the merchants had been the first to cross over this morning.

Right now, however, Tor Garen was littered with bodies, and the wagons couldn’t get through. “They will have to be cleared—” Tanith’s nostrils flared in disgust “—to make way for the supply carts.”

Soren examined at the spent battleground. The place reeked of blood and innards, and he hoped he wouldn’t be assigned the task. Being an officer had to have some perks.

“We should bury them,” Ike suggested in a soft voice.

Soren and Titania exchanged glances. “This is war, Ike. We don’t have the resources to waste on such matters,” he replied firmly. “We hardly have time to bury our own dead.” His thoughts turned to the Begnion soldiers who had, instead of resting, spent hours dragging their comrades’ bodies out of the three forts, and even more hours digging graves in the frozen dirt.

“It is harsh but true,” Titania agreed. After a moment she added, “I suppose we could take their bodies outside and burn them.”

“We should do more.” Ike rolled his fists. “They probably believed in Ashera, didn’t they? Wouldn’t their families want them to get their last rites?”

“Burn them, bury them, or merely move them aside where someone else can take care of them,” Nasir replied, “Regardless, their families will never see them again. They will never know where and when they died.”

This remark seemed to make Ike even more frustrated.

“I am sorry, Ike,” Titania said softly.

A stir of movement suddenly attracted their attention, and Ike lunged toward it. “Please, don’t hurt me!” a man’s voice squeaked. He raised one hand, but the other was wrapped in blood-soaked cloth and pressed against his stomach. He was on his side, and although he tried to pull himself up into a sitting position, his legs didn’t move at all. By his armor, Soren could tell he was a Daein archer.

Ike fell upon him—but in concern, not violence. He removed his headband and tied it tight around the man’s injured arm to make a tourniquet. The soldier’s face was ghostly pale. He’d already lost a lot of blood, and it was a wonder he’d survived all night.

“What are you doing?” Tanith asked, not cruelly, but not kindly either.

“There are survivors!” Ike exclaimed, as if they hadn’t realized.

Titania nodded. “There were bound to be some,” she said carefully, looking torn. “In an ideal situation, we could-”

“We need to get him to Mist,” Ike declared urgently. He turned back to the man, whose face was slack. “Are there more of you?”

“I’ve ‘eard moans,” the Daein managed to say. “How long ‘as it been?”

“Ike,” Soren intervened. “He is our enemy. We cannot take him to our basecamp. We cannot waste our healers’ time and energy on him. You say to bring him to Mist? Have you seen your sister? She’s exhausted. You would have her heal enemy soldiers as well as your own? What, then, was the point of this battle?”

“Soren, you’re wrong-” Ike tried to say.

But Soren continued: “And even if you save the life of this man and all his comrades, what then? Will you take them as prisoners? Will you shackle them and make them work? We don’t have the food to sustain them. We don’t have the men to guard them.”

“We could-”

Soren wasn’t finished. “Some of the Begnion soldiers under your command are veterans of previous skirmishes with Daein. They would kill this man as soon as looking at him. What is it you think they’ve been doing as they’ve encountered survivors in the other forts?”

“I-” Ike shook his head. He seemed lost.

Soren suddenly regretted all he’d said. He’d been frustrated with Ike’s naivety, not even remembering it was his friend he was talking to, his friend who’d been struggling with his role as general, his friend on whom relied so much.

Titania stepped between them, with her palms raised diplomatically. “If I may offer a solution,” she said in a measured tone, “We ask volunteers to extract them and heal them enough for other volunteers to carry them down to the village at the base of the mountain. Then they will be in the care of their own people. In exchange for their safe release we can requisition food, supplies, and intelligence from the villagers.”

“Requisition?” Ike repeated.

“It’s better than raiding, looting, and interrogating them,” Nasir pointed out. “Invading armies have done much worse.”

Soren had to agree. “It will be a long war, and we will need to sustain our troops through all of it. We can’t count on Begnion to maintain a constant supply. We will have to take from the Daeins, one way or another.”

Ike didn’t seem happy about it, but he nodded. He glanced down at the injured man in his lap. “Let’s just help them.” He turned to Tanith. “Return to the camp and ask for volunteers.” Tanith saluted and jogged off. Ike tried to make the man more comfortable.

“Thank…you,” he breathed.

Titania and Nasir spread out, looking for survivors, but Soren lingered. “It is imperative that the enemy soldiers not come into contact with our camp, and the volunteers must be ordered not to speak with them.”

“Agreed,” Ike said.

Soren thought for a moment. “If this becomes common course for our army, it will mean a longer campaign and far more risk. Every man we help could stab us in the back—stab your sister in the back as she leans over them, trying to heal them. You should understand that.”

“I do understand that,” Ike said grimly.

“Not every man we help will want our aid. Daein is a proud nation, and this pride extends beyond its military. The families to whom we attempt to return the soldiers may not accept them. You should be ready for that too.”

“I am,” Ike said.

Soren thought a moment. “On the other hand, your mercy may protect us from a horde of vengeful Daeins rising in our rear. As you well know, our army is small. Begnion will take Ivelt and guard our supply route, but we won’t be able to safeguard the forts and townships we conquer, leaving us at risk of attack from behind. But an enemy placated in defeat is less likely to rise up and seek revenge.”

Ike flashed the barest smile.

Soren wanted to make up for his previous attack, and so he continued spouting optimism: “Who knows? Perhaps word of your charity will reach the ears of Daein soldiers in Crimea. Hearing of your mercy, they may, in turn, show mercy to the Crimeans under their guard.”

Ike frowned slightly. “You don’t honestly believe that. I can tell.”

Soren shrugged.

Ike sighed. “Well, thanks for the effort. Sometimes I wonder how coldhearted you really are.”

Soren tried to look aloof and then noticed that the archer in Ike’s lap hadn’t stirred for a while. “How is he?”

“Dead,” Ike answered. He gingerly removed the body, took back his headband (which was now blood-soaked), and stood up.

“I hope you wash that before you wear it again,” was all Soren could manage to say. His consolations were spent.

 

Mountains dominated much of southern Daein, and so even when the Liberation Army reached the bottom of one, there was always another to conquer. This region was also well-fortified, with many strongholds housing proud warrior clans who’d reigned over their own lands for centuries. The Crimea Liberation Army would have to defeat them all. Months passed, and winter surrounded them.

Soren kept busy drawing up contingency plans and numerous strategies that would likely never be pursued. According to scouts and gently interrogated locals, King Kilvas was hiding out somewhere in these mountains, overseeing the war. The army faced his raven soldiers often enough, and between the crows and Daein’s dracoknights, everyone soon learned the advantage of keeping an eye on the sky.

However, recent blizzards were making fighting and even scouting impossible. Sometimes the army could be stuck in place for up to a week, trapped by the storms and dangerous terrain. The only things they fought on those days were frostbite and hunger. They had an army to feed, and finances and provisions had become Soren’s responsibility.

As the army’s official tactician and unofficial accountant, Ike had increased Soren’s wage to ten shares, which (with the current number of mercenaries on payroll) equated to about eleven percent. However, eleven percent of zero was still zero, and Elincia wouldn’t be able to pay them properly until this campaign was over.

That being said, Soren’s empty wallet was the least of his concerns. Planning battle strategies and charting the safest paths through the mountains consumed his every waking moment. Needless to say, he was earning his eleven percent of nothing.