Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 3 ❯ CHAPTER 99: FAREWELL ( Chapter 33 )

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

Instead of returning to Ike’s side, Soren decided he needed to put a decisive end to the possibility of anyone else offering him a position of power today. He wasn’t a prince, and he would never be a king.

“I heard you’re abdicating your throne,” he said when he found Pelleas. He crossed his arms. “Why?”

Despite Soren’s accusing tone, the young man’s eyes lit up as if pleasantly surprised. “Soren, you’re here! This is actually perfect timing. I was hoping to talk with you before we left. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Soren was more than a little annoyed by this response. “Fine.”

Pelleas led him away from the other Daein soldiers whose names Soren hardly remembered. They all seemed busy telling jokes around the fireplace, and Soren doubted they’d heard his accusation because no one had reacted when he’d made it.

“What you say is correct,” Pelleas began when they were safely in the corridor. “But there are few with whom I’ve shared my intentions. Was it Micaiah or Almedha who told you?”

“Almedha.”

“Then, you really are the one?” Pelleas asked with a touch of excitement.

Soren recalled what Kurthnaga had said about it being Pelleas who’d figured out his parentage in the first place. He supposed he owed him his gratitude, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually feel grateful. “Yes,” he answered, “If by ‘one’ you mean the offspring of that crazy woman and an even crazier king.”

Pelleas winced. “She is not that bad, really… She means well.”

“That is beside the point.” Soren returned to the topic at hand. “I want to know why you are giving up your position in Daein. Now is not exactly a good time for a power vacuum.”

Pelleas shook his head. “And I don’t mean to cause one! I am simply not the right person to lead. It is your birthright, not mine. If you wish it, I will vouch for you in an instant and support your ascension. I have stolen your identity for far too long. I will do what I can to return it.”

Soren had feared this would be the case, and now he felt even greater annoyance at Pelleas than he had Kurthnaga. “I do not want it.”

Pelleas looked confused. “But the Daein people would want their true king on the throne, not an imposter.”

Soren wondered if he was actually this naïve. “There’s no such thing as a ‘true king’,” he growled, “You’re as qualified as anyone. You’ve actually fought for your people. I’ve only ever fought against them.”

Pelleas frowned as if this fact disturbed him. “True…I cannot promise you would be immediately popular. King Ashnard was not particularly beloved in his final year either…”

Soren released a bark of laughter. “Beloved? He abandoned his nation to an invading army!”

“That is true,” Pelleas conceded. He then took a steadying breath. “If you refuse my offer, you should know I still intend to reveal my lack of royal heritage and abdicate. If not you, I would like Micaiah to take my place on the throne. She is already beloved by the people, and I know she will achieve more than I ever could… I hope you will agree with my judgement on this.”

Soren did, so he nodded. “Fine, as long as it’s not me.”

Pelleas seemed relieved. “In that case, may I ask you to formally abdicate your blood claim now and forever in the future? I can have the paperwork drawn up before we leave. I know it may seem tedious—” he raised his palms apologetically and smiled “—but it will help secure Micaiah’s position.”

Soren agreed it was tedious, but he also understood the reason. “Fine,” he said again. “But if it’s a problem of legitimacy, shouldn’t you be more concerned with Micaiah’s lack of royal blood?”

Pelleas chuckled. “Actually, just today Lady Micaiah and Empress Sanaki have come to an understanding: Micaiah is the empress’s elder sister and the true apostle. Lord Sephiran faked her death and stole her memories when she was a child. Hers may be Begnion blood, but it is certainly royal.”

Although Soren had suspected this fact and wasn’t surprised, he wondered how this revelation might change Begnion and Daein’s diplomatic relations. “How did you come to know this?”

“Micaiah, Sanaki, and I signed a treaty this morning, establishing friendship and goodwill between our nations. Micaiah has no wish to be Begnion’s apostle…any more than you have to be Daein’s king, I suppose,” he finished thoughtfully.

“Indeed,” Soren agreed. He was satisfied with this arrangement. “Have the documents ready by the time you leave.”

With that, he departed, finally making his way back to Ike. He felt a little better after dealing with the ramifications of his parentage. People like Ike and Mist lived to honor and emulate their parents, but Soren never would. He wanted to cut ties with Ashnard, and disowning his birthright felt like a step in the right direction.

 

When he returned to the mercenaries’ parlor, he was surprised to see Koure sitting with Ike, Titania, and Mist. He froze for a moment, while his mind worked to assimilate these two parts of his life. “Ah, Soren, you’re back!” Ike squeezed to the corner a settee to make room. “Come join us.”

“Your commander told me what you were doing,” Koure whispered with a grin. She was sitting in an adjacent armchair, holding a mug of tea, and judging by her expression, having a good time. “How’d it go?”

Ike looked happy too, and Soren’s anxieties were instantly soothed. He sat down and was pleased when Ike stretched his arm across the back of the settee so his fingers brushed his shoulder. “It could have gone better,” he admitted. “But it is done now.”

“I’m sorry...” Ike’s expression was genuinely sympathetic.

Titania and Mist both looked confused, which was a good indication that Ike hadn’t told them what he’d been doing. Titania confirmed this a moment later: “Forgive my intrusion, but did something happen?”

Soren shook his head. Although he didn’t want to hide or lie anymore, he wasn’t eager to tell the others he was related to Ashnard. “I just had to take care of some things. I would rather not discuss it now.”

Koure winced apologetically. “Sorry if I pushed you into it.”

“You didn’t,” he replied firmly and then changed the subject: “So, you have all met…”

Koure laughed. “I came looking for you and found your friends instead.”

Titania chuckled under her breath. “Honestly, it was a surprise to learn that Soren had any other friends. You do like your secrets, don’t you?”

Soren rolled his eyes. “Let’s stop talking about me,” he suggested. “Have we any word about how people outside the city are taking the news of Ashera’s defeat?”

“There are riots,” Titania sighed. “Some temples have been sacked—both by those decrying Ashera and those defending her.”

“It sounds like a mess,” Mist murmured sadly. “The Greil Mercenaries might have work to do yet.”

Soren glanced at Ike, who was being awfully quiet. He looked lost in thought, so Soren bent his arm upward to touch his fingers where they dangled over the top of the cushion. This seemed to pull him out of his dark mood; he smiled and hooked his fingers, keeping them there.

Soren didn’t pull his hand away. He turned his attention back toward the others, and Ike rejoined the conversation, steering it toward Koure and the things she and the other Branded had done on their journey south. (Apparently this was what they’d been discussing before Soren had returned.) While they talked, Ike began moving his thumb in slow circles over Soren’s knuckles.

The sensation was incredibly calming and threatened to send him into stupor, but he forced himself to stay awake and listen to the discussion. According to Koure, she and her friend had been lining up the parts of shattered statues, bringing people indoors, and tucking stone children into bed so they wouldn’t be scared when they woke up. After uniting with the other Branded, they’d continued the practice as soon as they were out of the desert. Soren was oddly moved by her faith that all of the stone people would be restored.

  

Koure took her leave (returning the Branded’s quarters) at the same time a servant came to escort the mercenaries to where Pelleas, Micaiah, Sothe, Tauroneo, and most of the other Daeins were preparing to head north. Sanaki had given them four pegasus-drawn carriages so they could all return together.

Ike shook Pelleas’s hand first, although the ex-king seemed shy about it. “Good luck, King Pelleas,” he said. “The Daein people are tough. I know they’ll come out of this stronger than ever.”

“Thank you, Sir Ike,” he replied. “But you should know I deserve the title of ‘king’ no longer.” His gaze slid to Soren, questioning why he hadn’t told him. (In truth, he just hadn’t had the time yet.) “That honor rests with Micaiah now.” He gestured at her, and she inclined her head graciously.

Ike extended his hand. “Then the same to you, ‘Queen’ Micaiah.”

She accepted it and laughed. “After everything we’ve been through, you can just call me Micaiah.”

While they exchanged pleasantries, Pelleas withdrew a scroll from his sleeve and stepped closer to Soren. “It’s all here,” he said quietly. “Feel free to read it and let me know if there are any issues. Not reading things before signing them was what bound me in that accursed blood pact, after all,” he added with a self-deprecating sigh.

Soren accepted the document and was momentarily taken aback by how his name had been printed: “Prince Soren Ophidan Goldoa Gerent Daein.” But persevering through this, he eventually reached the end, where Micaiah had already signed her name: “Princess Micaiah Kirsch Altina Daein.” The abdication was a single page and straightforwardly worded. At the bottom, he signed his name: “Soren Ophidan Gerent.” He would accept his parents’ surnames, but not their royal ones. He hoped this would be suitable for the authenticity of the document, because he doubted Pelleas would accept it if he just wrote: “Soren.”

He handed the paper back to Pelleas when he was done, and the young man seemed relieved. “Thank you for this. I know what it is you’re giving up.”

Soren shook his head. “I am not giving up anything I wanted.” With that, he turned his attention to where the farewells were wrapping up.

“Well, I guess this is over,” Ike was saying to Micaiah and Sothe.

“Yes,” Micaiah agreed warmly. “Everyone’s waiting for us back home.”

“We’ll have to start rebuilding all over again,” Sothe complained. “Hopefully this will be the last time.”

“Don’t say ‘hopefully’,” Ike replied firmly. “Make it the last time. If anyone can do it, you two can.” 

Sothe smiled slyly. “I don’t doubt it,” he assured, “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Thank you, Ike.” Micaiah took his hand again. “I won’t ever forget you or what you and Yune did to save everyone.” She stared into his eyes but then seemed to grow uncertain and awkwardly dropped his hand. Sensing something was wrong, Soren moved so he could see Ike’s face. His eye was twitching again, the smile he wore was forced, and although he was now waving along with the others, his hand didn’t actually move. Micaiah and her people departed for the carriages, and Soren decided he needed to get Ike away from the crowd.

“Ike, let’s go,” he said, a little more forcefully than intended. He seized his non-waving hand, which immediately clenched his fingers. Ike stopped waving and bowed his head. His fake smile flickered away, and his eyes widened. Soren doubted he wanted the others to see him like this, so he took a step and was relieved when Ike moved his feet. Then he strode quickly away with him in tow, whispering to Mist as he passed: “I’m taking him inside.” She nodded, but her brow was pinched in worry. Ike said nothing, and when Soren glanced back, he saw that he was pressing his other hand against his face and seemed to be in pain. “Hold on, Ike.”

When they were indoors, Soren used his Branded sense to find an unoccupied room, which, unfortunately, happened to be a broom closet. But it was a rather spacious closet, so he decided it was acceptable. He sat Ike down on an overturned bucket, lit a candle on the wall with one of the matches in the tray below, and closed the door behind them. “Just breathe,” he advised. “You will be fine in a moment.”

Ike’s grimace deepened, and he now held his face clamped between his hands. He wasn’t making any noise other than his haggard, uneven breaths.

“Talk to me, Ike,” Soren advised next. “What set this off? Was it Micaiah? Was it because she mentioned Yune?”

Ike gradually controlled his breathing. “Yeah, a little bit,” he finally admitted, and his voice was almost inaudible. “But I just feel so tired… I feel like I’ve been hardly keeping it together all day.”

Soren was surprised by this; he hadn’t been able to tell. “You seemed fine to me,” he noted. “But I believe you.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he merely leaned against the wall beside the brooms while Ike tried to compose himself.

He didn’t want to rush him, but when he couldn’t stand to merely watch anymore, he lowered himself to his knees beside Ike and pressed his forehead against the side of his arm. In response, Ike pulled up the arm and dropped across his back so that his forehead now fell against his thigh. Soren brought a hand up to cup his knee. He tried to convey through touch what he couldn’t in words, but honestly, he didn’t know who was holding whom anymore. Pressure built in his throat.

Eventually Ike seemed to calm down. He sat up straighter and wiped his eyes with his other hand. “Are you okay?”

Soren raised his head to look at him. “Of course I am. I should be asking you that question.”

“Right…”

He cleared his throat and sat back on his heels; Ike’s arm slipped off. “Well?”

“I need to talk to Mist about the future of the Greil Mercenaries,” he finally said. “I can’t be commander anymore… I don’t want to be.”

“Okay.”

“…Let’s go on a trip,” he said next. “Let’s go to Hatari, and then let’s travel east, like Nailah said. Let’s leave Tellius—just you and me.”

Soren didn’t answer immediately, even though he knew he wanted to accept, because the pressure had returned to his throat. “…Okay,” he finally managed to say. “That sounds perfect.”

Ike grinned in relief. “I know I’m a mess, but can I-” He seemed to grow nervous. “Can I kiss you?”

Now Soren was embarrassed, because he wanted nothing more in the world. “Of-of course,” he replied with as much dignity as he could muster. “I mean- I already kissed you, so it is only fair.” Realizing how ridiculous he sounded, he bit his tongue.

“Are you sure?” Ike didn’t seem convinced. “You don’t have to do anything for my sake. I know you don’t like being touched.”

Soren was surprised by this observation. “I…don’t mind when it’s you.”

Ike drew his eyebrows together. “You freeze when I touch you, and you hesitate to touch me. I can see it.”

He suddenly regretted his timidity, but he had little power over it. “I am new to this,” he explained. “It will take some getting used to, but…I want to get better at it. I want to learn. And I do…want to kiss you. Often.”

Ike smiled and nodded as if he understood. Then he shifted his weight, bent over, reached out with both hands, and gently cupped either side of Soren’s head. His fingertips barely grazed his hair and skin, and it made Soren shiver. He closed his eyes, and in the next moment, Ike’s mouth was on his.

After the first, gentle kiss, Ike exhaled through his nose, and Soren felt it as if it were his own breath. Now Ike kissed him again, more firmly this time. Soren found he liked it even more.

His weight shifted backward as Ike came off the bucket, now kneeling opposite him. One of Soren’s hands found his side, the other his arm. Ike moved his left hand down Soren’s neck, and he imagined he could feel his racing pulse through the soft print of his thumb.

Ike’s tongue parted his lips, and Soren’s heart seemed to stop for a second before hammering even harder. He could feel Ike smile, and it made him smile. Then, with a final, much gentler kiss on his upper lip, Ike pulled away. Soren opened his eyes and was surprised to see Ike’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

“Feeling better?” he asked, surprised at how breathless he’d become after so brief an activity.

“Yes,” Ike answered. “That was an excellent distraction.”

Soren stood and lent Ike his hand. Once he was standing as well, Soren was reminded of their height difference, and he was annoyed to think that he wouldn’t be able to kiss Ike’s lips of his own volition whenever they were both standing. But then he was merely content to think that he would have occasion to keep kissing Ike in the future at all. “What are we to each other?” he asked suddenly, the question having escaped his lips as soon as thinking it.

Ike looked surprised but then thoughtful. “I suppose it would be easier if we had a word for it. Hmm… Well, I know I love you, and I want to be with you…well, forever.”

The words buzzed in Soren’s mind, making him happy enough to forget everything else. But he tried to remain focused on the question he himself had asked. “We could continue under the guise of, or rather, really, premise of, close friendship. Or, we could employ a term used by trifling nobles: er, ‘boyfriends’ or, er, ‘paramours’. Or, of course, we could always proceed as a mercenary commander and his tactician who merely disregard professional boundaries-”

He was cut off by Ike’s snort of laughter. “Let’s be partners,” he proposed, clearly trying to control his voice. “You’re not my tactician anymore, and I’m certainly not your commander.” He extended his hand, and Soren shook it.

“Very well. From this day on, I will be your partner, Ike… I will always be here, watching over you.”

“And I’ll be your partner, Soren. I’ll stay by your side, and you can always tell me anything.”

Ike pulled the handshake into a hug, and then the hug turned into another kiss. It felt so seamless, Soren almost didn’t realize what was happening. But Ike bent over, and he stretched upward; they met in the middle. Soren supposed this could work after all.

When they parted, Ike was grinning like his old self. “Well, everyone’s probably wondering where you whisked me away to. We should get back.” Soren blew out the candle, Ike opened the door, and they reentered the bright hall.

 

Upon reuniting with the mercenaries, Ike apologized for rushing off and then immediately asked to speak with Mist privately. Soren watched them both go and knew this couldn’t be easy for him. The Greil Mercenaries had been Ike’s entire life since he was a kid.

Even Soren found the idea of leaving them difficult. After all this time, the company had come to feel like home. But traveling to parts unknown with Ike was even more alluring than the temptation to stay. He was ready for a fresh start, and as long as he was with Ike, he would be home. 

 

The wonderous smells of dinner cooking were drifting into the banquet hall from the kitchens below. It was here the mercenaries had assembled, although Ike and Mist were still missing. Soren sat with the rest and joined conversations sparingly. His mind was adrift on thoughts of traveling east with Ike, and his lips still tingled with the memory of their kiss. He found he’d much rather think of these things than the fact that he would soon be leaving the mercenaries.

He was distracted from these thoughts, however, when Kurthnaga, Almedha, Ena, and Nasir entered the hall wearing cloaks and boots. Nasir bore only a small rucksack and Ena carried nothing, but Almedha was burdened with a large traveling pack. She was no longer wearing an elegant black dress or her veil, and she seemed like a different person—much more normal.

“Is Ike around?” Kurthnaga asked Soren, who shook his head. He and the others stood from their benches to make their farewells. “We wanted to make our goodbyes.”

“Are you leaving now?” Titania asked in surprise. “Please, wait until after dinner. Ike should be back soon.”

Kurthnaga shook his head. “I am flying us back to Goldoa, and I’d like to cross as much distance as I can while it is still dark. The Begnion people are already scared; I do not wish to startle them further.”

Titania smiled kindly. “That is very considerate of you.”

“Please give my regards to Ike,” the Dragon King continued. “We all owe him so much—myself especially. He inspired me to do more than I ever thought myself capable… He will always be welcome in Goldoa. Our borders will be open now, and we hope to play a much greater role in this world than we have in many years.”

“That is wonderful to hear,” Titania cooed.

Ena stepped forward. “I am glad to have fought among such honorable beorc warriors,” she said. “I will raise my child to know the name of the Greil Mercenaries and all you have done for us.”

“Aw, shucks.” Gatrie blushed and rubbed the back of his head.

Now Ena turned to Soren. “Kurthnaga told me of the offer he made you,” she began. “I do hope you’ll reconsider.”

“I won’t.”

Ena shook her head. “We cannot force you. But I would like to formally extend an invitation to my child’s naming ceremony in two months’ time. I would like them to know you.”

Soren wished he could be annoyed at her, but he knew she and Kurthnaga were only acting with the best intentions. “I will think about it,” he conceded.

Ena smiled. “That is all we can ask.”

With that, Kurthnaga and Ena waved, while Nasir stood by, apparently thinking himself undeserving of the mercenaries’ well-wishing. Then Kurthnaga bid them a final farewell, and they began walking away, albeit turning and waving over their shoulders. Only Almedha lingered. Her eyes kept darting from Soren to the floor.

He was prepared for whatever she might say, but instead of saying anything, she lunged forward to hug him. Soren raised his arms to ward her off, but all he managed to do was get them wedged awkwardly between them. She was stronger than most beorc, and Soren was firmly stuck.

“Let go,” he growled, but she only released him when she seemed satisfied with her display of affection.

She stepped back, giving him long, forlorn look, but then she forced that expression into an encouraging smile. She still said nothing, and Soren was annoyed to realize this was her making an effort. She didn’t want to upset him again; she just wanted to say goodbye. He was further annoyed by the fact that he understood this just by staring at her pinched face. And yet, annoyances aside, he did feel like some knot was loosening in his stomach. Finally breaking his gaze, Almedha turned and hurried after the others.

Soren crossed his arms grumpily, knowing that he would have to give some explanation to his fellow mercenaries. One glance confirmed that they’d stopped waving to stare at him in bewilderment. “What was that about?” Mia demanded.

Soren sighed and dropped his arms; he didn’t know how to answer. He tried to return to the table, but Mia was blocking him. No one moved back to their seats.

“Really, Soren, you’re leaving us in suspense,” Titania teased. “Do you know Daein’s dowager queen?”

“And what was with that thing Ena was saying?” Boyd added.

“It is a family issue,” Soren hissed. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

“Oh…” Titania blinked as his taken off guard. “…the dragon tribe.”

Soren shot her a warning look. “I said I didn’t want to discuss it.”

However, no one seemed as willing to accept this deflection as they had his refusal to discuss his Branded nature at lunchtime. Titania raised her chin. “And here I thought you were finally opening up to us.”

“Yeah, Soren, you’ve got to tell us these things!” Boyd laughed.

“So that lady… Was she your mom?” Rolf asked excitedly.

Soren itched under their gazes. He couldn’t form a response. He wished Ike were here.

“But that would mean-” Rhys’s eyes widened.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he finally spat.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Gatrie raised both his hands. “—Wasn’t that lady married to Ashnard?”

Soren’s heart fell into his stomach. Of course they would figure it out.

Shinon started laughing. Holding a stitch in his side, he slapped Soren on the back. “That makes so much sense!”

“Shinon!” Titania scolded. “That’s a terrible thing to say!” She turned back to him. “I’m so sorry, Soren.”

His throat clamped shut.

“Hey,” Boyd offered consolingly, “we don’t get to pick our parents.” He shrugged as if satisfied with having just said something wise.

Oscar laid a hand Soren’s shoulder. “May we hug you now?” he asked simply, and Mia didn’t wait for permission. She plowed into him, and Rolf was next. Oscar followed up on his own request, and then Rhys and Boyd latched on. Gatrie guffawed and joined the embrace while using one hand to grab the back of Shinon’s shirt so he couldn’t get away. Titania was weeping openly, and she was the last to attach herself to the huddle.

Soren was completely lost in the middle of these gently jostling, squeezing bodies. He closed his eyes, batting warm tears onto his cheeks that he hadn’t even realized were budding there. He let his ankles and then his body go limp, but everyone was holding him up so he barely moved. This felt entirely different than Almedha’s hug. It felt like everyone was taking a piece of his pain, sharing and spreading it out so it didn’t hurt as much.

 Eventually the mercenaries disentangled themselves. Soren stood on his own two feet, feeling suddenly lighter. He brushed the dampness off his face. He still couldn’t say anything, but that was fine, because no one was asking him any questions. Oscar patted his back gently.

Titania wiped her own eyes and grunted to clear her throat. “Right, um—” she glanced around “—I do wonder where Ike and Mist have gone off to. Dinner should be served any moment…”

Everyone moved back to the benches now, including Soren. He took his seat but still felt like he was floating. No one had cared. No one thought less of him. It had been easy. It had been good.

 

A short while later, Zihark joined them, squeezing between Mia and Rolf. “Mind if I join you?” he asked. “I’ve been meaning to ask Ike something.”

“Of course,” Titania welcomed him. “He should be back shortly.”

The first course was served before Ike and Mist returned, but they did arrive in time for the second. “Sorry for the wait,” he apologized; he seemed to be in good spirits. “I hope you saved some for us!”

He sat down at the head of the table (where Soren was already sitting at his right). Mist sat on his left, where Boyd had saved her a seat. He pecked her on the cheek when she sat down, which made her smile. Soren didn’t think he was quite ready to do the same for Ike, at least not in front of everyone.

Titania conveyed Kurthnaga’s farewell to Ike and Mist, and they expressed their regret at having missed the Goldoan envoy. Then, inevitably, they had to explain their absence. “Actually, if I can have everyone’s attention for a moment,” Ike began, “Mist and I have an important announcement to make.”

The sounds of eating quieted, and everyone turned their eyes and ears to him. Soren knew what was coming, and he knew how hard this would be. His previous elation was immediately tempered.

Ike stood and continued with apparent confidence: “We just faced the biggest challenge of our lives, and I cannot express how glad I am all of you—my family—have survived. I only made it this far because of your strength, and that strength will continue to inspire me for the rest of my life. Thank you.” He swallowed before continuing. “However, from this day forth, I will no long serve as your commander.” He paused a moment to let that sink in, and Soren thought his eyes looked pained despite his effort to keep his face and posture composed. “We have fought many battles together, and I do not regret a single one. But I am done fighting now.” His voice lapsed into silence, and he sat down. When he pulled in his chair, Soren’s hand found his under the table. They were barely close enough to touch, but Ike linked their fingers.

Now Mist stood up. “Ike has made his decision, and I have made mine.” She raised her head higher. “I will lead the Greil Mercenaries, so long as there are mercenaries to lead.” She passed her gaze over everyone’s faces. “I would like to hear from you all now, about what you intend to do. As my brother has said, we have fought a great number of battles together, and I know he is not the only one who may feel that that number has been enough.” She turned her gaze to Boyd first, since he sat immediately to her left. “Boyd?”

Boyd beamed up at her as he answered. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Boss.” He saluted and then moved his grin to the side. “Anyway, if I left now, I’d lose my spot to some stupid rookie. I’m never letting that happen.”

Mist smiled and nodded. “Then the Greil Mercenaries shall continue, even if it is just you, me, and a bunch of rookies.” She turned her gaze to Gatrie next. “Gatrie, how about you?”

“Oh, I’m not leaving yet,” he replied readily. “I’m finally starting to make a name for myself! A scullion maid recognized me in the hall today and thanked me for saving the world. Pretty great, right?” He knitted his fingers behind his head and leaned back into the empty air. Sighing contentedly, he concluded, “I might even become the most famous mercenary in history.”

Mist gave a small chuckle. “Then the Greil Mercenaries will be lucky to have you among us… Shinon?” She asked next.

Shinon leaned his elbows on the table and seemed genuinely conflicted. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way,” he began, sounding uncharacteristically considerate. “I was gonna quit no matter if it was you or Ike leading.” He flitted his gaze from one sibling to the other. “I’ve had a good time as a mercenary. Made some good money. Had some good fights. But with the payout from Sanaki…” He shrugged. “I want to try different things.”

“I completely understand,” Mist replied. “I know you will master whatever you set your mind to.”

Shinon made a face that was not unkind. “Thanks.”

“Oscar?” Mist turned brightly to the paladin.

He didn’t answer immediately, but his eyes were sad when he gazed back at his fellow mercenaries, especially his brothers. “Actually, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you… Queen Elincia and Commander Geoffrey have offered to reinstate me as a Royal Knight. I have not given my official answer yet, but I’ve discussed it with Rolf and Boyd… And I’ve decided to accept.” Each brother gave an encouraging yet saddened smile. “Rolf’s certainly old enough now that he doesn’t need me, and although I consider each of you my family too…being a Royal Knight was my childhood dream. I never thought I would get a second chance at it, but now that I do…”

“Go,” Mist declared softly. “You will be an impeccable knight, Oscar.”

“Thank you, Mist, for understanding.” He inclined his head. “I know you will be a commander equal to your father and brother. If I am allowed to take piecemeal work, I will certainly join you for any job, should you ask.”

“Thank you. I certainly hope we can continue to fight alongside each other, whatever the case.” Now she turned her gaze to the opposite side of the table. “What about you, Rhys?”

In answer, he placed his palms on the tabletop and stared at his half-eaten plate. “I never imagined I would be a mercenary,” he began, “Or that I would enjoy serving beside you so much.” He raised his eyes to meet theirs. “But after all that has happened, I feel a different calling. I want to share what I have learned from Yune and Ashera with the people.” His voice grew slightly more confident as he continued. “Everyone is scared and confused right now, and those who have devoted their lives to faith need guidance to rediscover what to pray for, and who to pray to. I don’t know what difference I can make, but with the pay from our final job, I want to open a chapel and a school back in Arbor.” He turned his gaze to Mist now. “I will always be there to heal anyone who needs healing, and I hope I can visit Greil’s Retreat often. But I will no longer be able to join you on missions. I hope that is acceptable.”

Mist smiled widely. “Acceptable? That sounds amazing, Rhys!”

“Truly, it is a great use of your talents,” Titania agreed. “You will make an excellent teacher.”

“Th-thank you,” Rhys replied with reddened cheeks.

“Rolf?” Mist turned to him next.

“I’m staying!” he cried immediately. “I like being a mercenary, and if Rhys is going to teach, I bet I can to. I’ll teach archery to the new recruits just like Shinon taught me.”

Shinon was obviously trying to stifle a proud smile. “Shut it, kid. That was supposed to be a secret, remember?”

Rolf laughed. “Shinon, I think everyone already knows I didn’t just learn how to shoot a bow spontaneously.”

Boyd banged his hands on the table. “You didn’t?” he demanded. “I thought you were a prodigy!”

Shinon tossed a bread roll at him. “Shut it, you oaf. He is a prodigy! I’d only been showing him a couple months before I left and the kid ran straight into a battle.”

Boyd made to throw the roll back at him, but Mist caught his arm. “Alright, alright. Let’s try to stay focused, boys.” Boyd plunged his fists into his lap. “Um, Zihark, what are you doing here?”

The swordsman chuckled in answer. “I had a question for Ike, but it seems you’re the one to ask now.” His face grew serious. “Please, Commander Mist, allow me to join the Greil Mercenaries and fight at your side. I wish to do my part to bring peace and settle disputes between laguz and beorc. I know no better way to do that than serving a company with track record quite like yours.”

“Looks like we have our first recruit.” Mist gave a cheerful nod. “You are certainly welcome, Zihark.”

He saluted in return. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Mia?” Mist turned to her.

“Ah geez,” she moaned, sounding torn. “I’d love to fight for you, Mist; I really would. But I’ve been thinking lately that maybe I’m not cut out to be a mercenary. What I really want to do is find new opponents and fight for sport—not to kill anyone, you know? I want to find the best blade-masters in the world and learn from them. Maybe I’ll even start teaching what I know, just like my family used to do.” She tossed her shoulders. “That’s what I’ve been thinking anyway.”

“That is a noble calling,” Mist deemed. “I’m sure you will find your true rival someday.”

“You think?” Mia returned with a conspiratorial smile.

Mist laughed and turned to Titania. “What about you, Captain? I know you were injured in battle against the Disciples…”

“What, this?” Titania raised her hand to reveal the two missing fingers. “I can still wield my axe just fine. More importantly, you’re going to need a Deputy Commander at your side. Please allow me to stay, and I will continue supporting you in every way I can.”

Mist grinned in obvious relief. “Thank you, Titania. I am so glad to hear that. The Greil Mercenaries just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Titania’s eyes flickered to Ike, and Mist winced visibly. Of course, the Greil Mercenaries would never be the same at all without Ike. Soren glanced at him, and his solemn expression revealed that he knew what everyone was thinking. Now that he looked in this direction, Soren realized his and Ike’s hands were resting on table rather than under it. He didn’t know when this had happened, and now that he realized it, he instinctively pulled away. Ike loosened his fingers to let Soren’s go.

“Soren?” Mist asked, because he was the last one. He turned his gaze across the table to her, and then cast it over the others.

“I’m going with Ike,” he answered. “I won’t be remaining with the Greil Mercenaries.”

No one looked surprised. “Of course,” Mist replied with a nod. “We’ll miss you both.” She then turned her gaze to Shinon, Oscar, Rhys, and Mia in turn. “We’ll miss all of you! But no matter where we are in this world, we are family. If you don’t want to cause your family any grief…live happily.” Her closed-lipped smile stretched wide, even while her eyes filled with tears. “And please, stay in touch.”