Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 3 ❯ CHAPTER 97: AFTERMATH ( Chapter 31 )

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

The citizens did not enjoy being told that their goddess had never loved them, that she had tried to destroy them, or that she was now dead. They were uncomfortable with the idea that they’d been saved by a coalition of laguz and beorc, and they were terrified to learn the world had aged two months while they’d been asleep in stone cages. They were confused by the fact that their apostle claimed not to be an apostle after all, and they were absolutely repulsed by her claim that their previous apostles had all possessed laguz blood.

But Sanaki managed to calm the seething horde long enough to get all of the injured people into Temple Mainal. Then she dismissed most of the servants, telling them it was now their job to check on their families and spread word of what had happened. Those who remained out of a commendable sense of duty were assigned the tasks of finding edible food, summoning the best healers in the city, preparing a meal (Sanaki insisted it didn’t have to be fancy), and fixing beds for the wounded kings, queens, soldiers, and mercenaries (again, she insisted they forgo the perfectly turned-down coverlets and confectionary gifts).

The sixty or so people who’d fought as Yune’s Chosen now filed into Temple Mainal’s main banquet hall, where they languished around the fireplaces and braziers. As tired as he was, Soren remained by Ike’s side. Ike, in turn, seemed determined to remain with the cluster of royals who marched in Sanaki’s wake and did their best to help her take control of her overturned city.

Ministers, legislators, and court officials approached Sanaki nervously, asking what had happened to the dukes of the senate. Sanaki didn’t mince words, telling them the senators were all dead and traitors to boot. “In the coming months I will arrange an inquisition to discover who among the dukes’ assistants and cohorts knowingly aided in their illicit activities,” she threatened, “but for now, let’s all put our best foot forward repairing the damage Ashera has wrought on our nation. Consider this a chance to prove yourselves useful to me.”

The ministers bobbed their heads anxiously, and Sanaki promoted several of them on the spot. She gave them temporary and improvisational power and ordered them to spread her decrees throughout the city and lands beyond. They scrambled to write down her words as she dictated the story of what had happened for a second time, and they never offered the slightest objection. When she finally got rid of them, Sanaki practically pushed them out the door, saying, “When you’re done with that, the next task will be to stockpile food from the south and allocate it to the northern holds. We’ve lost two months’ time and I guarantee the winter weather has damaged the herds and food stores. I would like to avoid a total famine if possible.”

“F-famine?” stuttered one minister.

“Two months…” repeated another as if in a daze.

“It-it will be done, Empress,” vowed a third, and Sanaki slammed the door in their faces. Pressing her back again it, she slid to the floor.

Caineghis, Tibarn, Elincia, Kurthnaga, Nailah, Pelleas, and Micaiah all congratulated her on her quick thinking, resolve to tell the truth, and ability to make her subjects obey her despite their obvious shock and bewilderment. Then they expressed their desire to return to their own nations as soon as possible to resolve the inevitable chaos unfolding there.

“Tomorrow I will arrange the fastest transport possible,” Sanaki promised. “But we all need to rest and heal tonight.”

The other royals agreed, and Elincia helped Sanaki to her feet. Then the group dispersed to console and encourage their friends and subjects throughout the hall. Since their rooms were not yet prepared, most were lounging on the benches and floor, and many appeared asleep already.

“Let’s check on the others,” Ike said softly, and Soren nodded.

Although they’d hardly left each other’s side since their mutual confessions, they hadn’t discussed their feelings, what they were to one another, or what their futures may hold. Ike had barely spoken at all, in fact, despite his efforts to be present and help. Soren supposed that was understandable. Everyone was weak and tired right now.

Words aside, they had certainly not kissed again, and Soren now felt guilty for forcing that on Ike when he’d just woken up and probably hadn’t realized what was going on. He wondered if he even remembered it. That being said, Soren certainly did, and he wanted to do it again every time he glanced at Ike’s face. It was an irrational, frivolous waste of his remaining mental energy, but he couldn’t help it.

He tried to tell himself now wasn’t the time for such things. Everyone was exhausted despite their victory, heartsore despite their relief, and still sick and injured despite numerous healing sessions. No one knew what would happen now, and everyone wondered what was happening in the rest of the continent. No one could forget the horrors and trials they’d faced, or what they had almost lost.

When Soren and Ike approached the mercenaries, Titania was describing what it had been like to fight the undead Disciples day after day, never knowing if the rest of the mercenaries were ever coming back. “We never had much time to repair our fortifications before the Disciples’ bodies were restored and they returned. We never had much of a break.” She shook her head. “But one of those times, we considered sending another team after you… We tried the doors, but they were sealed shut. They didn’t open again until it was over.”

“You did well,” Ike declared simply. “You all did well.”

Titania gave a small smile. “Thank you, Commander.”

Ike didn’t return the expression. He just stared at the floor in a way that made Soren feel like he was far away.

Titania seemed to notice this too. Her smile weakened. “Now, tell me again from the beginning,” she said, turning to the others. “I want to know everything that happened.”

“Well, we had five battles,” Mist answered. “But I’m positive that each one didn’t take a day, so I have no clue how the timing works out.” She sighed and leaned back. “Time was so strange there, Titania! You wouldn’t believe it... I don’t think we were in the Tower of Guidance at all, not really. There was all this swirling mist, and so many stairs…”

Everyone let Mist tell the story, only offering occasional interjections and additions. Boyd was sitting beside Mist with his elbow on the table and his hand on her upper back, where his fingers absentmindedly played with the ends of her hair. Mist was leaning into him slightly, and their legs were touching. Soren wondered if Ike noticed, or if he cared. Then again, Mist and Boyd had been acting more affectionate toward one another for a long time now.

However, Ike was still staring at the floor, and Soren didn’t think he was listening to Mist’s story at all. He wondered if he should touch his back, or his hair, or his leg—some small caress to remind him that he was here and that he cared, just like Boyd was doing for Mist. But Soren still didn’t know what Ike wanted or what he would accept from him. Pushing physicality on Ike now, when he was in this strange mood, felt wrong—as if he would be taking advantage of his vulnerability. On the other hand, Soren truly did want to do something to help him feel better

He was saved from having to make a decision by food and drink arriving, which seemed to improve Ike’s mood slightly. Soren was glad too, since he’d had only water to fill his stomach since exiting the tower.

Once he’d eaten, he felt incredibly sleepy. Ike was dozing off too. He looked more peaceful with his lips parted and his eyelids drooping, and he would startle himself awake whenever he almost fell asleep.

After the meal, Mist claimed to be too tired to finish her story, but that was probably for the best because Titania seemed too tired to continue listening. She cradled her head on her uninjured hand, and her eyes were half-closed. Soren was actually relieved Mist hadn’t finished, since he wasn’t looking forward to her retelling of what had happened to Ike when he’d absorbed Yune’s power (and he wasn’t looking forward to Ike having to hear about it either).

 Fortunately, the servants responsible for preparing rooms soon returned to the banquet hall. They picked their way among the sleeping warriors, telling them that their beds were ready. Soren nudged Ike awake, Boyd helped Mist up, Titania yawned widely, and the rest of the mercenaries scraped themselves off of the benches with plenty of sleepy grumbling. One of the servants led them to a corridor off which branched the rooms they’d been assigned. There was one for each of them, and Soren’s was beside Ike’s.

While everyone else stumbled in and fell onto plush blankets, Ike lingered in his doorway. “Are you feeling alright?” Soren asked quietly

“Yeah,” he replied, “I’ll be fine.” It was hard to tell in the dimly lit hall, but Soren thought his left eye was twitching.

“Good…” Soren replied lamely, then adding: “Good night, then.” He hoped Ike just needed rest and would be more focused tomorrow. With this thought in mind, Soren went to his own room, donned fresh clothes from the wardrobe and lied down on the soft mattress. Despite his concerns about Ike, Soren soon fell into a deep sleep unmarred by dreams.

 

He was awoken sometime later by a scream, and he knew even before he opened his eyes that the voice belonged to Ike. He jackknifed awake, listening hard, but a second shout didn’t come. Stepping onto the cold floor, Soren raced to the door, but it flung open the moment he reached it. Ike ran straight into him, nearly knocking him over, but then seized him tightly. “Don’t leave me alone,” he begged in a harsh, desperate whisper.

Soren was so alarmed he could barely speak, but then he managed to say, “Okay,” and prise off Ike’s vicelike arms. He led Ike to the bed, where he sat and dropped his head into his hands.

Titania and others were already in the hall, some bearing candles, others stumbling blindly. Leaving Ike a moment, Soren went to meet them. “What happened?” Titania hissed.

“Nothing, just a nightmare,” he answered, although he wasn’t sure the answer was that simple.

“Is the Boss alright?” Mia asked, trying to get a view past Soren through the crack he’d left in the door.

“He will be fine,” Soren replied firmly. “It’s Ike. He is always fine.”

Titania gave a small sigh. “I don’t know… He didn’t seem like himself this evening. Did something happen in the tower?”

“You could say that,” Shinon replied coolly, leaning against the wall. Soren was a little surprised he’d gotten out of bed for this, but then he reminded himself that all the mercenaries cared about Ike, even Shinon.

“Is he going to recover?” Titania asked delicately.

Soren was about to answer in the affirmative, but Mist responded first. “I don’t know,” she said in a soft voice. “But let’s just give him some time… Take care of him, won’t you Soren?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll be right over here,” Mist offered, gesturing to her room, and Soren realized ‘we’ must be her and Boyd, who was still stuck to her side like a leech.

“I’ll be right here,” Titania seconded, pointing to her own room across the hall. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Soren nodded again, retreated, and clicked the door shut behind him. Ike hadn’t moved a muscle. “Ike…?”

He startled at his name, as if he’d been falling asleep sitting up again.

Walking closer, Soren touched his shoulder and coaxed him into lying down. Ike obeyed like a limp doll. “What is going on in that thick skull of yours?” he decided to ask outright. “I cannot help you if you do not tell me.”

Ike didn’t answer immediately, but his hand found Soren’s wrist. “Do you promise you won’t leave?” he asked, staring into the dark.

“I promise.” Soren sat on the edge of the bed, and Ike moved his hand so their fingers were hooked.

They remained like this for a while, and eventually whatever had come over Ike seemed to fade. “I’m sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and releasing his hand. “It’s passed now.”

Soren didn’t ask what ‘it’ was, instead saying, “You can sleep here if you want. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He got up, but Ike grabbed his hand again.

“No.” Evidently embarrassed by his hasty reaction, he let go and pulled himself into a sitting position. “I’m sorry. I mean…if you’re alright with it, can you just lie here with me? If I wake up again, I’ll feel better knowing you’re right there.”

Soren stared at him a moment, but then he tried to take this offer in stride. “Well, you do not leave much room,” he sighed, “But I am sure I can make it work.”

Ike smiled and scooched over. Soren walked to the other side of the bed and lied down. Ike pulled up the blanket to cover them both and then turned onto his side. Soren mirrored him so they were facing each other. “I’m sorry about this,” he whispered, “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I’m going to get it under control… I just keep remembering…Yune. I just… I feel like I don’t have any control.”

It was too dark to see, but Soren wondered if Ike was crying. “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” he replied honestly. “After all the times you’ve supported me, I would be glad to take care of you... But I don’t feel like I am doing anything. I don’t know how to help you.”

“This is enough,” Ike breathed back, “Just being here is plenty.”

“Then I will be right here.”

Ike was quiet for a long time, and Soren wondered if he’d managed to fall back asleep. But then his voice filled the darkness again: “I always thought you didn’t want this.”

“What?”

“I wondered…sometimes,” Ike admitted, “But I didn’t think you would ever…accept this. You were always so disparaging of other people’s feelings. You always said laguz and beorc shouldn’t be together and Branded shouldn’t exist at all. You even told me once that love doesn’t exist…”

He seemed to be waiting for a response, and eventually Soren gave one: “I was wrong,” he said, “and I was upset when I said that.”

“But, still...” Ike exhaled heavily. “I assumed you’d never be interested in anyone, really—let alone someone like me.”

Soren winced. “I have always found you…interesting.”

Ike moved so he was now staring at the shadowy ceiling. “I can’t help but wonder if you’re just playing along. If you’re just too loyal to say no.”

“Ike…” Soren thought hard about how he wanted to explain this. “When I first met you, you were my savior. Then you became my friend, and eventually my commander. Regardless of how I saw you, you were always my single most important person.”

“Soren…” Ike sounded suddenly uncomfortable.

“But I stopped worshipping you a long time ago,” he continued. “Over time, I… I came to love you. The problem was that I never saw myself as your equal. I never thought you would love me back.”

Ike didn’t answer immediately, and Soren hoped he’d said the right thing. Finally he spoke again: “You were always important to me too,” he said softly, “but I didn’t understand why. I would think about you, worry about you, watch you, and want to be around you more than the others… And then, in the past couple years, there were…stirrings.”

“Stirrings?” Soren repeated suspiciously.

“You know—” (Despite the darkness, Soren thought Ike must be blushed deeply now. He even felt warmer, as if his skin were hot coals) “—like when you’re a kid and you’re just figuring out how your body works.”

Now Soren was blushing. “Oh…”

“Maybe I should’ve realized it sooner. But I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, and you were just…constant. You were always there.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “How was I supposed to know?” But then he released his breath. “Or maybe I did know. But I didn’t think…” He tilted his head back a tick and didn’t finish the sentence.

Soren opened his mouth to say something, but Ike rushed on:

“Anyway, in the tower, when I finally remembered our time together as kids, I thought that explained it. I thought that was the answer… But it wasn’t. It didn’t sit right. I wanted there to be more.”

“Ike…”

“Tibarn’s speech was the thing that finally got it into my thick head.” He raised a palm to his forehead. “We were about to fight Ashera, and I had no idea what was going to happen. But I decided that, if I lived, I was going to tell you.”

Soren sighed. “I gave myself a similar ultimatum….and I am very glad we both survived.”

“This is so strange…” Ike dropped his arm and turned back to him. “I don’t know how to act or what to say.”

“I am having the same predicament,” Soren commiserated. “But perhaps we can figure it out together.”

Ike reached out a hand and found the side of his face in the dark. “It’s like you were sealed behind glass—something Tanas might have kept in his mansion. I felt like I would get into trouble if I even got close…but now I can finally touch you.” Then Ike’s hand lifted and froze. “It’s okay, right? If I touch you like this?”

Soren couldn’t stop himself from laughing, despite his best efforts to choke it back so not to offend him or belittle his question. Even in the darkness, he thought he saw the silhouette of Ike’s cheek rise in a smile, and he was content to see he hadn’t insulted him.

“I love the sound of your laugh, but you hardly ever do it.”

“I will try to laugh more from now on,” Soren promised. “And yes, it is okay.” He reached out his own hand and rested it just below Ike’s ear. His skin felt so warm. Soren’s thumb found a ridge: an old scar. “Also, please never invoke Tanas’s name when attempting to compliment me again.”

Now it was Ike’s turn to laugh, and Soren’s heart soared at the sound. “Fair enough.”

“Are you…feeling better?” he asked hesitantly, not wanting to ruin the good mood. “You had me worried when you burst in here.”

Ike moved his hand from Soren’s neck to his shoulder and then down his arm, where it stopped just above his elbow. “I’m sorry about that. It was just a nightmare.”

“It is alright, if it is not just a nightmare…” Soren proposed tentatively, recalling Mist’s words. “But whatever the case, we should probably sleep now.”

“You’re very practical, Soren.”

“I know,” he agreed, and Ike didn’t say anything else. Soren closed his eyes and eventually fell into a deep sleep, this time full of pleasant dreams.

 

Unfortunately, it seemed Ike’s dreams were less pleasant, and he woke with wordless shouts four more times before the night was over. Each time, Soren would inevitably startle awake, but each time, Ike would calm down, apologize, and go back to sleep. Soren held his hand, imagining he was finally making up for all the times Ike had helped him with his nightmares back in Gallia.

 

In the morning, Ike apologized again for the restless night, and Soren once again told him he didn’t mind. Ike dressed in his own room and bathed on his own, but they reunited again in Mainal’s banquet hall with the rest of the Greil Mercenaries and an assortment of other friends. Soren was relieved to see that Ike was acting like his regular self.

Although he wasn’t stuffing his face, he was eating enough. His shoulders seemed relaxed, and he was chatting with Kieran about his plans for when he got back to Crimea. He wasn’t joking or laughing like Kieran, but he was quick to smile. Soren sat across from them and ate his breakfast quietly.

Now that he was less worried about Ike, Soren gave a moment’s thought to his own problems. He’d seen Almedha from afar since exiting the tower, but he hadn’t had a chance to approach her—not that he’d been prepared for it yesterday. He wasn’t sure if he was entirely prepared now. Glancing around the room, he didn’t see her, nor Nasir or Kurthnaga for that matter. He still had time to figure out what he wanted to say.

Soren was deep in these thoughts when a sudden commotion across the table caught his attention and pulled him to his feet. Makalov had passed behind Ike, who’d promptly leapt from the bench, seized Makalov’s sword from his belt, and punched his snub nose into his face.

It was over as quickly as it started. Makalov was sitting on the ground, holding his bleeding nose in surprise. Everyone’s conversations died as they stared. Ike seemed to realize what he’d done and dropped the sword as if it had burned him. Then he glanced around in fear and confusion. “I’m sorry,” he said brusquely to Makalov before turning and striding out of the hall.

The mercenaries all tried to go after him, but Mist ran to the front, saying, “I’ll talk to him! It’s fine. Just wait here.”

Soren, however, refused to stay behind. He followed Mist into the hall, and when she glanced either way, trying to figure out which direction Ike had gone, Soren took the lead. “This way,” he said, relying on his Branded sense.

“Did he say anything last night?” Mist whispered anxiously.

Soren shook his head. “Only that he kept dreaming of Yune… And he mentioned feeling a lack of control.”

“She really did a number on him, didn’t she?” Mist sighed sadly.

Soren didn’t reply, and soon they came to the small study where Ike had sought refuge. After giving a polite tap on the door, Mist let herself in.

Ike was standing at a desk in the back, and Soren smelled blood. When he and Mist approached, he saw that Ike had stabbed the back of his hand with a letter opener.

“Brother, what are you doing!” Mist rushed forward, yanked out the dull blade, and started wrapping Ike’s hand with an ink rag from the desk.

Ike merely stared ahead, his arms completely limp. “…I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I don’t know what happened. He surprised me.”

“It’s okay; I’m sure Makalov will be fine,” Mist soothed. Soren didn’t know what to say, so he let her take the lead.

“I shouldn’t hold a sword again,” Ike continued numbly.

“Well, that’s no reason to mutilate yourself!” Mist’s voice was scolding now. She patted his hand. “Come on, let me heal this.”

“But that’s what Father did,” Ike countered. “He cut the tendons in his sword hand…so he could never do it again.”

“You’re not Father,” Mist replied firmly. “If you don’t want to pick up a sword, then don’t.”

“How can I be the commander if I don’t-”

“Come on.” Mist cut him off and pushed him toward the door. “My staff is in my room. I’ll heal this right up.” Ike went with her, and they passed Soren with only small glances. Mist’s face was encouraging, but Ike’s eyes darted away in shame.

Soren didn’t know what to say, so he decided to leave Ike in Mist’s care and report back to the banquet hall. He told everyone Ike was fine and merely tired and jumpy after the battle. He would have repeated Ike’s apology to Makalov, but he and Rhys were both gone, off to fix his broken nose. Soren sat back down and tried to eat, but the food stuck in his throat.

 

When he next saw Ike, he seemed back to his old self again. He’d already met with Makalov to apologize, he’d met with Sanaki to give his recommendation on government appointments for Tormod and Muarim, and he was now lounging in a parlor with the rest of the mercenaries. Everyone seemed more than willing to forget this morning’s disturbance.

Many of the royals would be leaving today, and they were currently waiting for word that preparations were complete so they could say goodbye. However, it wasn’t a messenger but Tibarn himself who came to their door. Reyson was with him (as always), and Naesala and Leanne walked in behind them.

“We’re taking off!” Tibarn announced. “Wanted to say farewell and good luck, and all that.” He clapped Ike’s shoulder and then passed an approving smile over the rest of the mercenaries.

“Will you be heading back to Phoenicis?” Ike asked clapping Tibarn on the arm in return.

“We’ll stop by Phoenicis, then wing straight on to Serenes.”

“Serenes?” Ike glanced at Reyson. “Why there?”

“Empress Sanaki has kept her promise,” he explained, “Serenes has been formally ceded back to us. She said we may return immediately.”

“Ah, I see.” Ike smiled warmly. “That’s good to hear.”

Tibarn walked back and swung an arm around Naesala, seeming to catch the Raven King by surprise. He held him halfway between a hug and a headlock, and Naesala frowned with what little dignity he could muster. “Sometimes birds change their feathers,” Tibarn observed happily. “The hawks, the herons, and even the ravens—we’re thinking we’ll all settle down together.”

“I no longer speak for my people,” Naesala said in a voice that suggested this was not the first time he’d tried to make this point. “You will have to earn their respect if you want to be their King.”

“Oh, I will,” Tibarn promised, releasing the (apparently former) Raven King.

“All this time,” Reyson added thoughtfully, “we’ve sorted ourselves by our ways of thinking and seeing and living. If we can respect each other’s opinions and learn to compromise, we can learn to live together without strife.”

“I don’t think it will be that easy,” Ike replied, but he was still smiling as if he agreed with Reyson’s every word, “but it still ought to be simpler than getting beorc and laguz to treat each other decently. You set a good example, Reyson, Tibarn.”

In response, the hawk and heron shared a long, conspiratorial glance. Meanwhile, Leanne twittered something in the ancient language and swung onto Naesala’s arm.

Ike laughed even though Soren doubted Volug’s language lessons had progressed so far that he could understand her. “You and Naesala too, Leanne!” he added.

In response, she smiled and lifted herself on tiptoe to peck him on the cheek. Naesala blushed but looked happy.

“Yes.” Tibarn rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Of Lorazieh’s three surviving children, one fell for a beorc politician, one a raven rascal, and the last a dashing hawk—I wonder if that’s why the old man hardly gets out of bed. The ghosts of his ancestors must be pecking at him like angry hens!”

“Well, he will learn to accept it.” Reyson didn’t become angry like the last time Tibarn had insulted his ailing father.

“So you’ll bring him back from Gallia?” Ike asked.

“Rafiel and Nailah will bring him to Serenes before returning to Hatari,” Reyson explained. “We are hoping the forest’s magic will finally make him well again.”

“Yes, all the major issues look like they’ll be handled soon!” Tibarn clapped his hands together. “Serenes’ old capital is going to be our new capital. I’m going to be King. Naesala’s going to be our ambassador to Begnion—Sanaki offered us a nice trade deal, by the way. We’ll bring ol’ Lorazieh back from Gallia and get him healed up with some forest magic, and we’ll be one big happy family.” Now he wrapped all three of them—Reyson, Naesala, and Leanne—in a single crushing hug. Ike and the mercenaries laughed. When Tibarn released them, he was chuckling too. “The only thing we can’t agree on is hunting and eating meat.”

“The forest creatures are off-limits!” Reyson raised a warning finger. “Needless displays of violence as well. You know we will not budge on that.”

Leanne threw her fists to her hips and nodded in agreement. “*You know the rules, Tibarn. You too, Naesala,*” she scolded them both in the ancient language.

“Tell me…” Tibarn drew a hand over his face. “Have you ever heard of a vegetarian hawk? Or a raptor that doesn’t scream victoriously to the skies after a kill?”

In answer, Reyson simply crossed his arms.

“Meat, huh?” Ike said with a thoughtful smile, “That’s a thorny problem…”

“As long as that is our thorniest problem,” Naesala offered in a soft voice, “I am sure we will be fine.” He extended his hand, and Ike shook it.

Ike then shook Reyson’s hand, accepted a squeezing embrace from Leanne, and surrendered to a vigorous hug from Tibarn.

“Take care of yourself!” The Hawk King waved while walking backward. Soon all four were gone, and the parlor seemed much emptier.

“I do hope we see them again,” Titania sighed.

“Of course we will!” Mist chirruped. “They’re not going far away.”

“I do hope everyone in Phoenicis and Kilvas is alright,” Rhys offered.

“You mean not shattered?” Gatrie asked glumly.

“Wait, didn’t you hear?” Mia suddenly leapt up. “There’ve been no reports of cracked or shattered people anywhere in the city! Sigrun was saying this morning that she thinks Yune must have restored everybody when she unfroze them.”

“Really?” Rolf gasped in awe. “That’s amazing!”

“That’s one powerful little bird,” Titania laughed. “We all owe her so much.”

While the others jabbered away, Soren glanced at Ike, and although he was smiling, his expression was stiff and his left eye was twitching. Instinct told Soren this was a bad sign, and he seized Ike’s arm. “Let’s get some air.”

He gave a quiver of a nod, and the pair ducked out while everyone was distracted. Ike started to breathe heavily as soon as they were in the corridor, and Soren used his Branded sense to take them to the nearest courtyard without passing any servants or soldiers. By the time they were outside, Ike was hyperventilating.

“Just breathe,” Soren said, trying to make his voice calming. But he was no Mist. He wondered if he should have grabbed her attention and brought her. She was far better at dealing with sick and distressed people, and Soren was starting to think Ike was both.

Slowly, he got his breathing under his control, and they walked around the neglected winter garden. “I’m better now.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Ike answered with a small shake of his head. “I was happy, I really was. But then my smile started to hurt…”

Soren considered this. “You don’t have to force yourself to be better,” he finally decided. “Just take it one moment at a time. If you are happy, let yourself be happy. If you are not, then let yourself feel that too. If you need to step out, then leave. I will cover for you or come with you. Whatever you need.”

Ike stared at him. “You’re being awfully nice,” he noted suspiciously.

“I won’t tease you about this,” he replied. “I want to help you manage whatever is going on.”

Ike sat down on one of the courtyard’s stone benches. “How can I continue being commander like this?” he sighed, raising a hand to his head.

Soren was about to point out that not even a day had passed since defeating Ashera and that he was being unfair to himself, but then a different thought occurred to him: “Ike, do you still want to be our commander?”

“What are you talking about? Of course I do.”

Ike’s voice lacked conviction, and Soren knew he was onto something. He sat beside him. “Ike…” he began again, “Let’s go on a trip.”

“What?” He lifted his head. “Where?”

“Somewhere far away,” Soren answered, glancing at the patches of blue between the clouds, “like you said that night before we entered the Tower of Guidance. At the time, you said you couldn’t get the idea out of your head... Is it still floating around in there?” Now he turned to look at him.

Ike blinked slowly. “…It is.”

“You don’t have to decide right now.” Soren got to his feet. “But if you wanted to go…I’d go with you.” 

“Thanks, Soren.” He also stood up.

“Let’s go back inside,” he proposed, and Ike nodded. 

 

Not long after rejoining the others, Soren, Ike, and the mercenaries made their way to Temple Mainal’s grand entrance to send off Caineghis, Giffca, and Skrimir, who were departing for Gallia ahead of their vassals. Sanaki had loaned them a large pegasus-drawn carriage to make the best time.

“Ah, Ike!” Caineghis squeezed his shoulders between his massive hands. “Your work has been superb.”

“Hey, you aren’t quite over the hill yet yourself,” Ike joked in reply. “Titania told me you fought with the strength of ten lions.”

“Titania, you exaggerate.”

“Never, your Majesty,” she assured.

“You know,” Ike said, seeming to assess Caineghis from head to toe, “I always wanted to go one-on-one with you, just once.”

“Hah!” Caineghis gave him a hard pat on the back. “I would have expected you had your fill of fighting.”

“Oh you could say that again,” Ike agreed, pushing the hair off his forehead. “I’ve had enough kill-or-be-killed to last a lifetime.”

Caineghis narrowed his eyes at him, and Soren wondered if the Beast King had heard rumors of his recent behavior.

“But something simpler,” Ike finally proposed, “some way of testing our respective strengths.”

“You mean controlled matches,” Caineghis translated thoughtfully, “with all the little rules they have.” He stroked his beard. “In a peaceful world, we need such things. Challenges. Games. An outlet.”

“That’s the truth,” Ike agreed emphatically.

“Skrimir—” Caineghis turned to him “—that will be something for you to arrange when you become King. You have always enjoyed competitions that test your strength.”

“And wit!” he agreed.

“You would need to have wit for that, Skrimir,” Soren pointed out dryly. To his annoyance, this only earned him a massive hug from the lion.

“Oh, I will miss you, tiny beorc!” he growled, lifting him off his feet.

When he was once again on solid ground, Soren raised a hand to ward off any further affection from the prince. “Thanks, Skrimir,” he said, “But do not call me ‘tiny beorc’ ever again.”

Skrimir seemed chastised. “Of course, beorc come in all shapes and sizes. Is it rude to point that out?”

“Yes, it is,” he replied sternly, “and it’s inaccurate; I’m not even beor-” Soren nearly bit his tongue when he realized what he was saying—and in front of all the mercenaries. He winced and wondered why the words had come so easily.

Skrimir’s eyes widened, and his mouth made a little ‘o’ shape. He dropped one fist into the opposite palm, as if having just discovered something, and then pointed at Soren. “You’re like Micaiah!”

Soren grimaced. “If that is how you must think of me,” he granted, “yes, I am like Micaiah.”

Skrimir grinned and turned to his uncle. “My King, did you know this?”

Caineghis eyed Soren approvingly. “I had my suspicions.”

Soren felt Ike’s arm slide behind his neck and over his shoulder and was grateful for the comfort. There was no going back now. His secret was gone. From this moment forth, he would be living his life as a Branded.

“If I can interrupt for a moment—” Ike seized the reins of the conversation and saved him from having to respond “—Caineghis, did you say ‘when Skrimir becomes king’?”

Skrimir held his fist across his chest, and Caineghis nodded. “Yes. We discussed it this morning, and I believe it is time for me to step down. Once order has been restored in Gallia, I will coronate Skrimir and transfer all power to him. We need some young blood leading us in this new era.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do splendidly!” Titania congratulated.

“‘King’ Skrimir?” Ike said as if testing the sound of it. “I suppose that could work.”

“I will do my best!” the prince’s face was positively glowing with pride.

Giffca stepped forward and shielded his mouth with the back of his hand as if to prevent Skrimir and Caineghis hearing him. “We are letting Skrimir believe he earned the position, but the truth is, I just finally convinced this old cat to retire.” His eyes slid coyly in Caineghis’s direction.

“Uncle Giffca!” Skrimir complained, having obviously heard him.

Giffca chuckled and lowered his hand.

“He is only joking, Skrimir,” Caineghis promised in a laugh of his own. With that, the king raised his hand in a final farewell. “Our carriage is waiting,” he said, “I hope we will all see each other soon, but Gallia awaits.”

Ike and the others raised their own hands, and even Soren offered a wave. Caineghis, Giffca, and Skrimir descended the steps to where the pegasi were assembled. The king and his consort walked arm-in-arm.

When they were far enough away, Ike asked hesitantly: “King Caineghis and General Giffca, are they…”

“They’re married,” Titania supplied, apparently baffled that Ike was unaware. “You didn’t know?”

Apparently he had not. Ike dropped Soren’s shoulders and rounded on her in surprise. “No, I didn’t know! That’s legal in Gallia?”

“In Gallia and in Marado,” Titania answered primly. “Although, unions like theirs are still not well thought of in either place.” She continued more sadly. “To many, Lord Giffca is only the king’s bodyguard and top advisor.”

Ike turned back to where the pegasi were now being escorted into the sky by young Holy Guard cadets. “I had no idea…”

“Wait, so is everyone around here gay?” Shinon moaned suddenly (apparently also having not known). “I’ve had too much of this. I’m going in for lunch, and maybe a stiff drink.”

“Oh, come on, buddy; have a heart,” Gatrie laughed, skipping up beside his friend, who was heading back into Temple Mainal. “It’s a new era, just like King Gallia said—no Goddess, no rules!”

“Well, at least it means more girls for the rest of us,” Shinon proposed glumly.

“That’s the spirit!” Gatrie cheered, and their conversation was swallowed by the gilded doors.

Soren felt his cheeks redden, and he wondered why he was suddenly so affected by everything, when for his entire life he’d been able to remain impassive in the face of anything. Ike seemed equally uncomfortable, and that made Soren feel better. At least they were in the spotlight together, and the young commander had always handled attention well.

“He’s talking about me, right?” Ike murmured to Titania.

She offered a pinched, sympathetic smile. “It doesn’t matter what Shinon thinks.”

Ike shrugged as if to say he didn’t care, but Soren wondered if he did. Personally, he’d withstood the criticism of the likes of Shinon since he was a kid. But Ike had always had a way of garnering people’s approval without trying. Soren wondered if he knew how to handle disapproval.

He didn’t have to wonder long, however, because shortly after shrugging, Ike shook his head and smiled. Throwing an arm around Soren’s shoulders and taking him by surprise, he announced: “Well, he’ll learn to accept it. I mean, I’m not any different than I’ve always been. Shinon’s just not my type.”

Boyd and Rolf released mirrored snorts of laughter, and Titania’s smile was genuine now. “So that would make your type…” Boyd began, and Soren could feel his eyes.

His neck and ears grew hot, but he refused to shrug off Ike’s arm.

Fortunately Ike changed the subject without rising to Boyd’s bait. Glancing over his shoulder, he addressed those who followed him. “Look, I’m not perfect. I guess I thought being honest with myself would somehow make me a less effective commander.” Facing forward again, he chuckled. “Turns out that was stupid.”

“You have always been a bit dense,” Soren grumbled through the smile pulling at his lips. This drew another laugh, and Soren’s embarrassment instantly faded. He truly didn’t mind the attention as long as Ike was at his side.

Titania was already holding the door open, so he, Ike, and the others filed inside.

 

The midday meal passed without incident. Ike remained cheerful and social, and although Soren kept an eye on him, he didn’t have to pull Ike to safety again. During this time, the topic of his parentage eventually resurfaced.

“So, Soren,” Mist asked tentatively. “What you said to Skrimir earlier—is that true?”

“Yes,” he hissed. Just because he wasn’t lying anymore didn’t mean he was going to open himself to interrogation. His personal life was still private, after all.

Rolf didn’t heed the warning in his voice, however, and called out appreciatively: “Wait, so you’re part laguz like Micaiah? That’s amazing! Can you do any of the cool stuff she can? Like, could you heal somebody if you wanted to, or-”

Soren gave Rolf his best hostile glare, but it was Oscar who stopped him. He wrapped a hand around his brother’s head, covering his mouth. “Be quiet, Rolf; he’s going to kill you.” But the warning in his voice was lighthearted, and he was smiling through his apologetic grimace.

Oscar then released his brother, and Rolf covered his own mouth. “Uh, sorry,” he mumbled.

But Soren’s umbrage faded quickly. Ike was sitting beside him, and just now, he’d edged his knee closer so their legs were touching. It was an overwhelming signal of comfort, and suddenly Rolf’s prying (and any eavesdropping ears) seemed less disastrous. “No, I do not have Micaiah’s talents,” he finally answered, keeping his tone guarded, “and I would prefer not to speak on the subject further.”

“That’s fair,” Mist replied, perhaps feeling guilty for bringing it up.

 

After lunch, the Greil Mercenaries met with Nailah, Rafiel, and Volug, who would be leaving shortly. “Will you be going back to Hatari?” Ike asked them.

“We are escorting Rafiel to Gallia first,” Nailah answered. “The herons believe they can heal their father in the Serenes, so we’ll be responsible for getting him there. Once that’s done, yes, Volug and I will return home.”

“And I will be going with them,” Rafiel added softly. “I’ve come to miss the eastern people and their ways.”

“I see,” Ike acknowledged sympathetically. “So you won’t be moving to Serenes with the others…”

Rafiel bowed his head. “I hope to visit, but no, I shan’t make it my home.”

“Visiting may be difficult,” Titania sighed, also sympathetically. “How are you even planning to get back?” This she addressed to Nailah. “I thought Death Desert was impassable.”

But it was Rafiel who answered: “Yune’s voice guided me on a safe path. I believe I can remember it. I have worked with Micaiah to draw a map as well. One day, there may even be free migration between Tellius and Hatari.”

“I certainly hope to bring some of my people here,” Nailah added. “I know many who would marvel at the grand forests and mountains of Tellius. Our beorc, too, would be eager to witness your wealth of resources and ingenuity.”

“Did you just say ‘your beorc’?” Titania asked in confusion.

Now it was Nailah who looked confused. “Yes… Hatari is the home of the wolf laguz and a tribe of beorc. Was that never conveyed?”

“Not to me,” Titania laughed, “But I’m glad to hear it! Ike?”

He shook his head. “This is the first I’m hearing of it too.”

“Me too,” Soren added.

Nailah and Rafiel exchanged a glance. “Well, I know I told Micaiah about it. In Hatari, the boundaries between laguz and beorc are not as rigid as they are here.”

“Do you have Branded there as well?” Ike asked suddenly.

“Yes, of course,” Nailah answered. “They are the *give-receive*. In your tongue, an approximation may be ‘the Gifted’. They are still few, but they live normal lives. Indeed, it was a shock to learn from Micaiah that things are so different here.”

“That’s incredible…” Ike beamed, glancing down at Soren, who wished he could wipe the smile off his face; it was embarrassing. “Well,” he finally reclaimed himself, “I hope someday Tellius can become more like Hatari, where everyone can live together in peace.”

“I as well.” Rafiel bowed his head.

“*You are already making great strides*,” Volug replied in the ancient language, but by Ike’s uncertain expression, it was clear he didn’t understand.

“It will be a great boon to our country as well,” Nailah continued, “For generations, our beorc have yearned to voyage east. Perhaps now that will be possible. We long thought that ours was the only land spared the Great Flood, but there have always been those who weren’t content with that assumption. Now I wonder myself what may lie beyond the shifting sands and churning seas.”

“East…” Ike repeated, and there was a childish, faraway look in his eye. “I wonder.”

Nailah smiled knowingly and then raised her hand in farewell. “Greil Mercenaries,” she announced, “You would all be welcome in Hatari. It has been an honor fighting beside such loyal and capable warriors. I will not forget a single one of your names.”

“Farewell,” Rafiel wished them.

“*Safe journeys and passages always*,” Volug said politely with a low bow.

Ike and the rest of the mercenaries waved them off. Then both Nailah and Volug transformed, and Rafiel mounted Nailah’s back. Soon they were loping away. Unlike Caineghis and the others, they’d elected to return to Gallia on foot. They wanted to pass through Begnion, Serenes, and Goldoa on their journey. Soren understood their choice; if they were indeed returning to Hatari after this, they probably wanted to see as much of Tellius as they could.

 

The Greil Mercenaries filed back into Temple Mainal, but they hadn’t made it far before Sanaki intercepted them with Tanith on her heels. “Soren,” she said, taking him by surprise. “There is someone here who wishes to speak with you. I have called a meeting in the senatorial chamber. Come with me.”

Soren glanced at Ike in confusion.

“Um, should the rest of us come?” he asked.

“Only your tactician’s attendance is requested.” Despite Sanaki’s business-like attitude, Soren could tell she was exhausted. Perhaps that was why she was acting so pert.

“Very well, I’ll come,” Soren gave in. Turning to Ike, he said: “Whatever it is, I will fill you in later.”

He nodded, and Soren was suddenly loath to leave him. He was not yet certain Ike wouldn’t break down again, and if it happened, he wanted to be there. Before he left, he made eye contact with Mist and tried to surreptitiously gesture at Ike with his gaze. Mist gave the slightest tremor of a nod, and he hoped that meant she would look after him.