Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 3 ❯ CHAPTER 96: THE PRICE ( Chapter 30 )

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

Before Soren’s eyes, all of Ike’s wounds healed rapidly and his skin became fresh and clean. The flames coalesced in the shape of a large bird, and gazing at it, Soren realized for the first time that they were no longer on a floating platform in an abyss. They were in a room with walls and a domed ceiling. The pillars were no longer broken, and the light was no longer disembodied. It was being cast by round lanterns shielded with blue-tinted glass along with a strong beam of daylight that poured through a round hole atop the rotunda. They were once again in the real Tower of Guidance. Soren might have been relieved—if he wasn’t still worried about Ike.

The flaming bird now shifted, shooting to the floor and taking the form of a young girl: Yune. She approached Ike, who got to his feet, and Soren noticed there was still a thread of blue light reaching from Ike’s left foot to Yune’s right. They were still connected, and that fact made Soren nauseous with unease.

“What of you?” Ike asked the blue, glowing girl. His voice was an echoey, disconnected, almost dreamlike. “Are you leaving?”

“I…am,” Yune replied weakly. “But…I believe it’s…for the best… This world does not need gods… We’ve always failed you… We made you weak. That is why we must…go.” She lowered her eyes sadly.

He sank to one knee, bringing himself closer to her level. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Hm?” Yune raised her eyes again.

“It’s true, we don’t have much use for gods,” Ike agreed thoughtfully, “but, well—” he rubbed the back of his head and offered a small smile “—you show us what we should aspire to. We need inspiration. You give us a reason to grow, to become more than we are. And if we don’t have that, Yune, we’re nothing more than…statues.”

“Can you…forgive me?” Yune asked, searching his face with wide eyes. “For the pain…I’ve caused.”

 “I don’t know,” Ike answered honestly, breaking their gaze and glancing at the floor. “But you have already forgiven us…” He raised his eyes to look at her again. “How could we not?”

Yune released something that was halfway between a sigh and a sob.

“We are all family,” Ike said as if to console her. “We will try to understand one another, even when we disagree.”

“…You’re right,” Yune finally replied, smiling sadly. “I will try…one more time.” With that, her light faded until nothing but a ghostly silhouette was left. Ike reached out to grab it, but by the time his fingers reached her, she was gone.

He stood back up, staring at his hand, looking like he’d lost something of unsurpassable value, but Soren knew to look at the ground. Yune’s shadow moved toward Micaiah’s body, which lay unmoving while Sothe pumped her chest with both his hands. He seemed oblivious to Ike and goddess, and Yune now seemed oblivious to him and Micaiah. The shadow passed by them to settle on the corpse of the little orange bird.

The blue thread now connected Ike to this bird, but he didn’t seem to notice, staring at his hand as he was. However, when the bird hopped to its feet and chirped a short tune, it drew his attention—along with the attention of everyone else who, like Soren, was still conscious enough to watch. Chirping again, the bird beat its wings and flitted into the air.

Yune flew higher and higher until she disappeared through the hole in the ceiling. She was swallowed by the warm daylight, and at that moment, the blue thread was yanked out of Ike like a hook from a fish’s gullet. He collapsed forward without even trying to catch himself.

“Ike!” Soren yelped in alarm, and he wasn’t the only one. He got to his feet again, and this time he found he had the strength to stumble over to Ike’s side, half-falling into the crater he’d smashed into the floor

Ike wasn’t moving. His eyelids were closed except for a sliver showing the whites, and his face was completely slack. Soren was the first to reach him, dragging himself the rest of the way. He laid a hand on Ike’s chest, hoping to feel the rise and fall of his breath. But he felt nothing. Lowering his ear to Ike’s heart, he hoped to hear it beating. But there was no sound. Soren started shaking in panic, because along with what his eyes and ears were telling him, the beacon of Ike’s presence had gone dark.

“He’s not breathing!” Soren called helplessly.

Mist had been making her way over at a fast limp, but now she tripped on the broken tiles. “I-Ike!” she cried, crawling the final stretch. “Brother! Ike…no…” She felt for a pulse under his neck with quivering hands. “No, no, no…”

Then she got to her knees, tilted his chin up, clamped one hand over the other over his heart, and began compressions just as Sothe had done for Micaiah. She breathed in time with the breaths she wanted him to take.

Soren moved his hands down Ike’s arm until he found his fingers. The flesh had completely regrown and was now uncharacteristically soft and smooth. Ike appeared completely uninjured, so he didn’t understand why this was happening.

The rest of the mercenaries gathered around, and they murmured to themselves, whispering Ike’s name and willing him to wake up. Then Micaiah approached. Like Ike, she looked unharmed despite the battle, but her head was ducked and her steps were slow. Sothe was walking beside her with one arm across her back and the other holding her hand.

“What happened?” Soren demanded. “What did Yune do to him?”

Micaiah shook her head.

“Don’t snap at her like that,” Sothe shot back. “She just went through the same thing!”

Micaiah shook her head again. “I came back,” she said. “I have faith Ike will too.”

Despite her own injuries and obvious exhaustion, Mist didn’t slow her compressions. The seconds ticked by, and Soren could only stare at Ike’s face and feel the world was ending all over again. He would have preferred Ashera’s judgment to this.

“Come- back- Ike,” he whispered through his own choking. “You were- going to tell- tell me something- when all of this- was over. It’s over now…so come- come back.”

“Brother, please,” Mist pleaded, and tears ran off her nose onto her hands.

“C’mon, Boss,” Boyd murmured.

The whispers continued, until suddenly, Ike’s eyes shot open, his neck arched, and he sucked in a panicked breath.

“Ike!” Mist cried in relief, dropping her head onto his chest and scrunching the tattered hem of his shirt in her hand.

Ike stared at everyone with wide eyes, as if he didn’t quite know where he was or what was going on. But Soren was just glad to see those eyes open again. Relief flooded through him, and for the first time in his life, he truly felt like everything was going to be fine. He didn’t have a care in the world, and nothing mattered but this moment.

He also felt an overwhelming desire to express this relief and joy in some way Ike might understand, so when his frantic, darting gaze next came in Soren’s direction, he bent over and pressed his face against Ike’s. First their foreheads met, and Ike’s hand, which was still firmly clasped in Soren’s, clenched tightly. His eyes closed, so Soren closed his too. Then their lips brushed, and Soren was once again filled with relief just to feel Ike’s warm breath and know he was alive. He pressed his mouth against Ike’s, just for a moment, just to plant something: a bit of pressure, an idea, a confession, a promise.

Then he raised his head slightly, and he was happy to see that Ike had relaxed. When his eyes fluttered open, he no longer looked as confused or afraid. Soren felt his face breaking into a smile and tears pressing against the back of his eyes, as if they’d just realized what they’d almost lost.

Then he felt someone pull his collar, gently dragging him into an upright position. “Sheesh, let the man breath,” Tibarn joked. Soren’s face flushed, but in truth, he wasn’t ashamed. The tears that had collected in his eyes started spilling over, so he set about wiping his face with the arm that wasn’t holding Ike’s hand. He refused to let go, and since Ike’s fingers were still applying pressure right back, he didn’t think Ike wanted him to.

Slowly Ike propped himself up with his other arm, and Mist shifted as if to catch him if he fell. But he grew steadier and curled up one leg to balance himself. Pressing a hand to his head, he looked around. At least he seemed to recognize everyone. “What…happened?” he asked. “Is Ashera- I remember-” Shock and fear flashed through his face, and suddenly he was digging his nails into the back of Soren’s hand.

“It’s fine,” Mist consoled, “We’re all safe now. Ashera’s gone. You defeated her.”

“Yune…” Ike breathed, glancing around as if looking for her.

“Yune is gone too,” Micaiah answered, kneeling next to Mist.

“I remember talking to her,” Ike said, and his grip relaxed somewhat. “She said she was going to try again.”

Micaiah nodded. “I think she went off to restore the stone people. But wherever she is now, I don’t feel her presence.”

“What…happened to me?” Ike asked next.

“Your heart stopped,” Micaiah answered. “The same thing happened to me when Yune left my body to go into yours.” She took a deep breath and touched her chest. “Yune told me it might happen. She said that putting too much of herself into a mortal body…takes a toll. That’s why she always used the bird as a second vessel... But when we were fighting, she put much of her power into me.” Her hand turned into a fist. “And then she put all of herself into you… I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “But we both came back. I’m sure Yune knew we would…”

Ike gave one slow nod. “It’s okay… She knew I was willing to take that risk.”

“Can you stand?” asked Elincia, stepping forward and extending her arm. Ike took her hand, and Soren finally released his other. He stood hastily and, sniffing, found his tears had finally ebbed.

Ike gazed around the room—particularly at the destroyed floor on which they were standing. He shivered visibly, and Soren wondered if he remembered his rampage. Taking a step, he immediately lost his footing, but Ranulf caught him before he fell and lent him his shoulder.

“Thanks,” Ike said, “I just feel a little weak.”

“You and me both,” Ranulf sighed. “I think I could sleep for a thousand years after this.”

Soren picked his way over the broken tiles, finding he could still walk despite his lightheadedness and the incredible pain in his knees. Everyone was injured and barely holding onto their lives. Even though Rhys had tried his best to control the damage and keep anyone from dying in the last moments of battle, Ashera had left most of them with broken bones, fractured ribs, and bruised organs. As soon as they’d reached a section of unbroken floor, those too injured to remain standing lied down. Those who could at least drag themselves among the worst injured stripped off each other’s armor and triaged each other’s wounds. This included Micaiah and Ike until they each grew too dizzy and had to sit to the side. Soren helped the best he could.

Rhys, Mist, Elincia, and Sanaki healed each other sufficiently and then set about attending the others. The goal was to make everyone well enough to get outside. Hopefully there would be water, vulneraries, and other medical supplies awaiting them there, and possibly even other healers if the city had been unpetrified.

Soren didn’t know what they would find beyond this tower, but whatever the case, he knew he would be able to face it as long as he had Ike at his side. With this thought in mind, and unable to do any more for his comrades, Soren went to sit beside Ike and await his turn to be healed. 

He couldn’t feel his hands or feet anymore, and his body only moved in stilted jolts as his fried nerves rapidly swayed from pain to exhaustion. He was still bleeding, but he’d lost track of his wounds long ago. Right now, he just wanted to sit next to Ike.

When he collapsed, Ike caught him and guided his head so that it fell against his chest. “Hang in there, Soren,” he whispered. “Stay awake, or I’ll worry you’ve died on me.”

“You’re…one to talk,” Soren managed to reply.

“I’m sorry,” Ike said softly. “I didn’t want to leave you…but I had to do what needed to be done.”

“…I know,” Soren sighed, feeling sleep seizing his mind. ‘You always do,’ he thought, but the words didn’t reach his lips.

“Soren.” Ike jostled him slightly to keep him awake. “The thing I wanted to tell you…can I tell you now?”

“If you must…” he breathed, not opening his eyes.

“The thing is,” Ike began, and his words were just the barest whisper above Soren’s head. “I think I love you.”

The happy trill that ran through Soren’s body was enough to twist his mouth into a smile and open his eyes again. For so long, he’d refused to believe this was possible. And yet, he had always hoped, deep down, that Ike would return his feelings. “I know I love you,” Soren replied, and finally saying the words caused his heart to flutter. The fluttering carried him away, out of thought and mind, until he was encased a blanket of sleep.

 

When Soren awoke, he was lying in a row with the other injured. They were still in the same room, and judging by the light coming through the rotunda, not much time had passed. He raised his head, which felt incredibly heavy, and turned to where he felt Ike’s presence.

“Aren’t you going to take it?” Elincia was asking, holding out Ragnell hilt-first. 

“No,” Ike replied, taking a step back.

“It is yours. You should keep it.”

“No,” he repeated. He had one arm across his stomach, holding his opposite arm in an oddly vulnerable way. His shoulders were bunched.

“Well, we should at least take it out of the tower,” Elincia insisted practically.

“No, just leave it here.” Ike took another stepped back. “I’m sorry.” With that, he turned and walked briskly away while rubbing his arm.

“Ike?” Elincia called after him, but he didn’t respond.

Soren got to his feet, and after the room stopped spinning, he limped in the direction Ike had gone. He was sitting atop the stairwell with his head in his hands, but before Soren could reach him, Ranulf touched his arm to stop him. “Give him a minute,” he advised.

Soren stared at Ike’s back and ultimately decided to heed Ranulf’s advice and stay away. Turning, he passed his gaze over everyone else. No one was dead, and it appeared no major limbs had been lost. Soren checked his own body and found that only the deepest cuts and worst fractures had been healed. His other wounds had merely been bandaged. He was desperate for water, but he knew there was none to be had.

Everyone seemed to be in the same state. While he watched, those who were awake and moving gently woke the others, telling them it was time to go. “Let’s get out of this goddess-forsaken tower!” Tibarn announced.

Ranulf winced at his words. “Too soon, Tibarn,” he hissed, “too soon.”

Tibarn chuckled weakly. “At any rate, let’s get moving.”

“Yes, I am certain our friends will want to see us alive!” Skrimir agreed. He had more energy than anyone else despite the bandage over half his face and the entirety of his left arm, which was also in a makeshift sling. He was bent nearly double, and at an awkward angle. He limped toward the stairwell, but he limped with zeal.

Ike stood up when they approached, and he seemed to wipe his eyes before proceeding down the stairs. He remained at the head of the group, so Soren couldn’t see his face. But his behavior was unnerving, and Soren’s bliss was tempered. Apparently there was reason to worry about the future after all. Then again, of course there was. Everything wasn’t going to be easy, simple, or good from now on just because Ike was alive. Depending on what and who they found—or didn’t find—at the base of this tower, the future could be bleak indeed.

 

Descending the tower didn’t take nearly as long as climbing it, and each floor contained regular rooms, halls, walls, and ceilings. But there was no furniture, decorations, or anything; each room was completely empty—save for the corpses. After descending the first section of winding stairs, they found Lehran’s body, and Skrimir offered to carry him on Sanaki’s behalf. Despite his injuries, he draped the heron over his bent shoulders.

A few floors down, they started coming across the bodies of Goldoan soldiers. When they eventually found Dheginsea, Kurthnaga heaved the corpse onto his back despite the fact that his father’s body dwarfed his own. Nasir was nowhere to be seen, until they reached another of the empty floors and found him slumped against a wall. He was still breathing and could be roused enough to mumbled incoherently despite his fever. No one had water to give him, but Ike carried him piggyback, promising food, water, and a good healer once they got outside.  

As they walked, Sanaki told Kurthnaga they would exhume the rest of the dragons’ bodies in the coming days and see to it that everyone was laid to rest appropriately. “We can give them their last rites,” she offered. “Although, I don’t know what meaning that has anymore. There will be no Goddess to hear our prayers…not that she was ever listening anyway, I suppose…” No one had a response to this.

Eventually they passed Zelgius’s corpse, but because Ike was already carrying Nasir, he was forced to leave his nemesis behind. Next, they passed the bodies of Levail and the rest of the Disciples of Order under his command, but none of the Disciples were wearing golden armor anymore. The metal had reverted to Begnion crimson. Sanaki vowed these soldiers would be buried with honor as well.

Down still more steps they walked, and through more rooms, some large and some small. But these rooms had windows, and although they were still high up, it was possible to see people walking in the streets below—a lot of people.

“Yune did it,” Elincia breathed through the tears of relief in her voice. She pressed her head against the wall beside the window. “Everyone has been saved!”

“Then let’s get down there!” Gatrie cheered before coughing up a bit of blood. His face was ashen. “The people are waiting for their heroes!”

They made their way down the spiraling stone staircase with slightly quicker limps. Eventually they passed the Disciples of Order who’d fought under Lekain’s command, and these too were now wearing red armor instead of gold. While they were here, Reyson quietly asked Tibarn to carry Hetzel’s body back with them. “For my brother…” he said simply, and Tibarn needed no more explanation. Despite his still-broken wing, he hefted the corpse of the elderly senator over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

Then, finally, they reached the first floor, which was a wide round hall where the winding staircase finally came to an end. The front doors were open, and sitting just within the threshold was Leanne, Caineghis, Renning, Sigrun, Kyza, and—Soren was relieved to see—Titania.

“Ike!” she cried in relief, “Everyone!” She ran forward, and the Greil Mercenaries ran to meet her. They swamped her like a wave, and soon she was being passed around and around, hugging everyone. Soren saw her head was bandaged; she had a scar across her left eye and part of her left ear was missing. Her right hand also seemed to be missing two fingers, but it was hard to tell through the thick bandages. She limped and had a bandage wound tightly around her leg too. Just like the mercenaries coming down from the tower, it seemed she’d only had time to heal her worst wounds. But she was alive, and that was what mattered.

While the mercenaries jostled one another, Leanne tackled her brother, Caineghis embraced his nephew, Elincia cried into her uncle’s shoulder, Sigrun fussed over Sanaki with tears in her eyes, and Kyza seized Ranulf in a relieved hug, pulling him off the ground.

“They’re back! They’re back! Come quick!” came Astrid’s voice outside, and soon she and a dozen other friends and family members were rushing through the doors to welcome them. Soren was hugged, squeezed, patted, and clapped on the back by more people than he could process.

But at the same time everyone was trying to get in to see them, the tower team was trying to get out to see the streets and courtyards beyond. As excited at the mercenaries were to see Titania again, they were also eager to breathe fresh air and feel sunlight on their skin. Soren was no exception.

When he finally emerged, what he saw was a spent battlefield littered with carnage. Closest to the tower stood Yune’s Chosen, all of whom were severely battered but still breathing. The barricades they’d erected were in complete disarray and the bodies of red-armored soldiers lay everywhere, as far as the eye could see. But interspersed among them were regular people, standing and staring. Some wore the fine robes of nobles, and others wore the equally-fine but more modest-looking robes of the nobles’ servants. Still others wore the aprons of cooks or the smocks of artisans. There were young children and elderly folk. There were performers in costume and guards in armor. They all stared at the people coming out of the tower with the same confusion, awe, and horror with which they stared at the dead army. Soren wondered if they had any idea what had happened.

“You should speak to your people,” Sigrun encouraged Sanaki. “We haven’t been able to answer their questions since they’ve begun coming out.”

“How long were we in the tower?” Sanaki hissed back.

“Five days,” Sigrun explained. “We were fighting the Disciples of Order, but they all collapsed a short while ago. A bird flew overhead, and dare I say, it was scattering some sort of light in its wake.” Sigrun shook her head. “Sooner after the Disciples fell, people began emerging from the buildings. Honestly, Apostle, I do not know what to tell them.”

“Empress,” Sanaki corrected. “Call me empress… And I will tell them the truth.” With that, Sanaki strode forward with as much grace as her injuries would allow.

Soren didn’t see this going well, but he wasn’t Sanaki’s advisor so he couldn’t tell her what to do. Ike came to stand behind him as they all waited for Sanaki to speak and hopefully clear the way. Relaxing slightly, Soren found that, if he was honest, the truth did sound irresistible at the moment—even if it would lead to certain chaos.