Fire Emblem 1. Prologue

It sleeps…

As it sleeps, it dreams. As it dreams, it remembers.

It remembers how much it was wronged.

As it remembers, it wonders, why?

Why was it wronged so? It had done nothing to deserve such torment.

It all began long ago, before it became a feral beast.

He thought he was given power for a reason: to help others. That was all he wanted to do, and everything he did was for others, he thought not for himself.

He was desperate. He was desperate for acknowledgement, for approval, for even the smallest words of praise

Yet all he got were boos and jeers, insults and beatings.

He was hated for trying to contribute. He was detested simply because of who he was.

They called him disgusting, evil, and despicable.

And the more they tormented him, the further he was driven into despair.

The further he was driven into despair, the closer he became to being consumed by darkness.

And soon he was driven so deep that he lost all his divinity.

Yet there was solace for it…

The one in this body was also wronged

The one in this body was scared, alone, and as desperate as it was.

The one in this body was despondent, furious, jealous, and distraught.

The one in this body was as consumed with negative emotions as it was.

It had found a kindred spirit.

They were wronged, they were hated, they tried so hard to be good, to help, to love…

But if people could not see them as anything but evil,

Then why not become what they were expected to be?


	2. In The Bulrushes

War is hell.

We like to think of ourselves as heroes, and those we fight as villains…

But the truth is, on the battlefield, there is no room for good or evil. There is only victory and loss. There is only strength and resolve.

As a result, nothing truly good can come out of war.

Yet in spite of that, we still fight. We fight for what we hold dear, what we believe in. We fight because we are willing to endure the hell known as war for a greater cause.

As the Valmese tactician, Nathaniel was no stranger to this fact. From the moment he began his studies, he was taught to secure victory at all costs. He knew there was never such a thing as a clean fight. The enemy would resort to whatever dirty tactics to win, and therefore it would not be considered cheating to do the same.

He also knew that in order to keep his sanity intact, he needed a reason to fight. Some fought for patriotism, others for personal gain, and others to protect their loved ones. Unfortunately he did not have any of those. So he told himself that he fought for an ideal. He was fighting for the common good, and anyone or anything that was in the way of that ideal must be cut down.

A nation trying to invade theirs, a nation trying to conquer the world for their own perverted ends, was no exception.

The war with Plegia had been going on for months, and for all those months, Nathaniel was left baffled. All his strategies, while they seemed fool proof on paper, did not give him the results he was hoping for. Each and every battle for the longest time would result in a stalemate. It seemed to him, and to Valm that this war would go on for years, even decades, if this stalemate continued.

Yet in this one fight, he had managed to turn the tables. There were only a handful of soldiers left, and that too mostly mages, so a hardened pegasus knight could take one down with ease. Nathaniel had several strategies planned out in advance, and for this particular scenario, he knew what to do. He simply needed to send his fastest Pegasus knights up against whatever soldiers that remained and he would leave disposing of the commander to himself.

By the time he had caught up to the commander, he had taken a hostage. Hoping that Nathaniel's compassion would get the better of him, the commander held the woman by the throat, threatening to kill her if Nathaniel's army did not surrender.

Nathaniel knew his game, and he did not fall for it. He drove his sword into the woman's heart, catching the commander off guard, and then took this opportunity to kill him as well.

Even though he thought of himself as a ruthless killer, even though he told himself he sold his soul the moment he began to fight, even though he told himself that he was no longer human… he still had some shreds of humanity left in him.

He realized it the moment he saw the contents of the basket the woman was carrying. If he really was the ruthless killer that he thought himself to be, he would have brought the knife down on the wailing baby.

And he was about to do just that, but his hands began to shake. No matter how hard he tried, he could not bring himself to do it. Was it because the child had potential? Was it because it would be unfair to end the life of something that just came into the world? Was it because he, of all things, felt sorry for it?

Whatever the reason, he decided to sheathe his sword. Then gingerly picked up the child and examined it closely, and was taken aback at what he saw.

Its, or rather, her body was covered in scars. There was a rather distinguishing mark on the back of her right hand, the mark of The Fell Dragon himself. From this he was able to conclude that her mother was most probably a member of the Grimleal clergy who chose to betray the cult.

Upon realizing this, he told himself that perhaps it was for the best that this child was now an orphan. Now she at least had a better future ahead of her. At least now she would have a purpose outside of being used for the whims and fancies of religious fanatics.

After all, she was put into this world to fight, so she would make a fine soldier.


	3. The First Memory

Normally, if we find ourselves against an opponent we can easily beat, we take full advantage of it. We may find ourselves ecstatic at the prospect of an easy win, and at other times, we find ourselves bored of our opponents because we were not challenged enough.

However that was a far cry from what Nathaniel was thinking. He showed his opponent no mercy, but he wanted to lose. He was hoping that he would be outdone by his opponent's tactical skills and that he would find himself stumped at the fact that he lost.

Yet instead, he found himself going over the basics of chess for the umpteenth time that day. He was able to counter each and every move his opponent made, which was exactly what he did not want to happen. He tried to keep a straight face throughout the match, but his opponent's next move made him sigh in frustration and bury his face in his hands.

Then he told himself it was only to be expected when your opponent is a child.

"How many times must I tell you, Ariana? You don't use the king this early in a game, and you most certainly do not move the king into check…"

He then moved his rook, just next to the opposing king, and he had won the third match in a row.

"…because if you were to do that, it would be checkmate for you and the rest of your pieces."

The child stared aghast at the chessboard, indicating that she was so confident in her abilities that she was unable to foresee the outcome of the match. Then she banged her fists on the table and glared at her father in anger.

"You're not playing fair!" she yelled in frustration as she continued to hit the table, "Cheater! Cheater!"

"First of all, I did not cheat. You are obviously upset that you lost. And second, all is fair on the battlefield, the sooner you know that, the better."

Ariana looked down at the chessboard in dissatisfaction, and out of boredom, began to tilt a pawn piece from side to side.

"Why do we have to do this, Father? Chess has nothing to do with being a tactician!"

"Oh yes it does. You can think of the chess board as a battlefield, and of the pieces as our army. Where you move your pieces and what pieces you choose to move can be the difference between a win and a loss."

"But chess pieces aren't soldiers!"

He sighed. Perhaps it would be better for him to explain it in ways that a young child would understand, after all, one could not expect a sapling to grow into a tree in a day.

"I know they aren't, but use your imagination and pretend that they are."

"Oh, I get it. So when we play chess, we are pretending that we're fighting a real battle, right?"

"Precisely. Now, that's enough chess for today. It's almost five o'clock. You have chores to do."

The sound of the word 'chores' made the child cringe, and she furiously knocked over the table as a gesture of defiance, causing the chess board and pieces to go flying across the room.

"Ariana-"

"You'll never let me have fun! It's always chess, studying, housework, and boring things!"

Nathaniel held on to his daughter's wrists firmly and stared at her with a stern expression.

"Ouch! Stop that!"

"Don't you use that tone with me. I am trying to teach you as best as I can. Whatever I do, I do for your own good, and you'd do well to appreciate it."

Tears welled up in the child's eyes as her father tightened his grip.

"You're hurting me!"

"Apologize to me first."

"…I'm sorry, Father."

He let go of his child, then tried his best not to soften as she looked at the floor with teary eyes.

"Stop crying. Now clean up the mess you made."

Ariana reluctantly picked up the table, the chessboard, and pieces and placed them properly in the box. Then she went to the coat rack near the door to pick up her cloak, shoes, and basket.

"What do you have to do today?"

"Buy food from the market and go to the blacksmith to get your sword back."

"Good, now I want you home by six, is that clear?"

"Yes, father."

Nathaniel sat down at the table and sighed as he heard the door close behind him. Then he looked at the chessboard before him and began to reflect on what had just transpired. Though he didn't want to tell her, as if he did it would probably go to her head, Ariana was progressing at a rapid rate. She went from totally clueless about tactics to being able to last five minutes in a chess match in a matter of four days. If she continued like this, she would probably be able to win a match or two by the time she started school.

It was startling to him how far they had come. He remembered that day so long ago, when he wondered if saving the child was an impulsive act, when he found himself ready to throw up his arms in frustration at the prospect of raising a baby, which proved to be an extremely difficult task. He was so inept at parenting those first few months that he had to ask Pheros, who also had a child, for help, and he hated having to rely on people, so he found himself gritting his teeth whenever she had to explain something to him. In retrospect however, he was glad for the help, as he got to a point where he would be able to parent the baby on his own thanks to her.

It was only when the baby was six months old when Nathaniel actually started to become attached to it, and coincidentally, also when he realized he couldn't just keep calling her 'it' or 'the baby' for much longer. He was not good at naming things, and didn't have much of an aesthetic sense, so the most he could do was name her exactly what she was. She bore the mark of Grima on her right hand… so did she have His blessings because of it? Or was she cursed because her parents were from a fanatical cult that made the entire religion look bad? He decided it was the former and chose the name Ariana, the holy one. He wondered if it was ironic, but it was all he could come up with, so he did not care.

Even though Pheros had helped him get through those months, others were not so understanding. Walhart was slightly sceptical when he was told that Nathaniel had adopted a child he found on the battlefield. Some other soldiers, obviously the ones that had no children, claimed that being a father would make him weak, and that it would be better for him if he had nobody to protect so that he would never get emotionally involved.

In truth, becoming a parent only made him more determined. It turned out to him that an ideal was not a very good motive. He often felt hopeless knowing that the 'common good' would never truly be achieved. However, knowing that he had a child to protect and provide for gave him a sense of purpose, and made him feel that all he did was not for naught.

Six years managed to fly by since the day he adopted her. Now, he would have to part with his child in a mere ten months. He wondered, would she be distraught upon being carted off to boarding school? Or would she understand her father's decision and handle her situation with grace? He hoped it would be the latter, and had been training Ariana to be strong for as long as he could remember. She was the child of a tactician and spent most of her life among soldiers, so she could not afford to be soft. Eventually, she'd have to start taking over for him, and even start fighting on the front lines…

He was suddenly struck with a vision of his daughter covered in blood with a spear in her back and shuddered. For that one moment, Nathaniel found himself conflicted. He, and by extension, Ariana were obligated to fight for their country if it needed them to. However, he was extremely reluctant to put her at risk. He didn't want to let paternal love get the better of him, but he could not help it. Ariana was all he had, and he did not want to lose her or see her suffer in any way.

Therefore it was all the more imperative that she hardens her heart. It was all the more imperative that she learns to face the world without fear.

As if on cue, the door opened, and he turned around to see Ariana had returned with a basket of bread, cheese, and sausages in one hand and a sword wrapped in cloth in the other.

"I've returned, father."

"You're on time, that's good."

Ariana placed her father's sword near the door and gave the basket of food to her father. They sat down at the table and began to eat their sandwiches in silence. Ariana was too focused on her dinner to think of anything else, but Nathaniel was wondering how to tell her that she would be far from home in less than a year.

She was just so… innocent. She completely and utterly trusted him, and as far as she was concerned he could do no wrong. Sure, like all children, she would get frustrated with him, yell at him, disagree with him at times, but for the most part, she looked up to him.

"Ariana…"

And now, she would have to be separated from him, and there was a danger of this separation breaking that absolute trust.

"Father?" her voice was muffled as she was trying to eat and speak at the same time.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth, it's bad manners."

She swallowed the food in her mouth and then looked at her father, he appeared to be trying to tell her something, and it didn't look like good news. Perhaps she had done a mistake and would be confronted about it, or perhaps, he was frustrated with her and needed to tell her.

"Did I do something bad, Father?"

The look in her eyes was earnest and pleading. Nathaniel tried his best not to be swayed by it.

"No, nothing like that."

"Do you think I'm not good enough to be a tactician like you?"

"This has nothing to do with your behaviour or tactical skills. Actually, there's something you should know."

"Is it bad?"

"Why do you always think everything that comes out of my mouth is bad news? Now stop asking questions and listen to what I have to say."

"Yes, Father."

Nathaniel began to think, wondering how exactly to frame his sentences so that Ariana would not be too shocked by the news.

"Ariana, how old will you be in ten months?"

She raised an eyebrow, she knew how to count, so why was her father asking her something so obvious?

"Seven."

"And what happens to all children when they turn seven?"

"They start going to school."

"Right. Now listen, there are other children like you, other children whose parents are vital additions to the Valmese army. These children cannot go to ordinary schools, as their parents will be far too preoccupied with their duties to be watching them on a regular basis. Plus, regular schools will not give them the skills they need to follow in their parents footsteps."

"So what happens to them? Is there a special kind of school just for them?"

"That's exactly what I want to tell you. In ten months, you will be attending military school. Do you know what that means?"

"That I'll learn to be a tactician like you in school?"

"Yes, and no. It also means that you will be living in the school, away from me. I won't be there to tell you what you should and should not do. I won't be there to take care of you. You will have to take care of yourself. It will be difficult. You will have to work very hard. Your mind and body will be put to the test on a regular basis, but you cannot let yourself be affected by it."

Ariana stared at her father for a very long time. Her face appeared to be expressionless, and then she started to furrow her eyebrows and tilt her head from side to side, which appeared to be her way of trying to process what she had just been told.

"Does that mean I'll never see you again?"

"You'll come home for the summer and winter holidays, but for the most part; the school will become your new home."

Ariana sighed, stared at the floor and began to kick the table with her feet. Then she looked up. Her face was solemn, but she didn't appear very sad.

"I want to go to school and learn a lot of things. Most of all, I want to learn to be a tactician like you, and military school is going to teach me that. You have a real army to take care of and lots of work, so you can't always be there to teach me…"

Nathaniel was pleasantly surprised at the maturity of his child; it seemed to him that he had nothing to worry about…

"Yes, that's… exactly right."

"But I don't want to leave you, and I'm scared. I'm scared that I won't do well, and you'll be angry at me if I don't do well…"

…but of course, she was still a child. She understood why her father was doing this to her, but she was still legitimately frightened at the idea of being alone and away from home. He was not going to fill her with false hope, but he knew that scaring her even more would also be a bad idea.

She looked down at her now empty plate again, and appeared to be pensive.

"And there are going to be other kids there. They're probably stronger and smarter than me…"

"Then you have to become stronger and smarter than them."

"What if I can't do it?"

"There is no such thing as 'I can't do it.' You have to."

"…I'll try."

Ariana got up from her seat and took both hers and her father's plates, then went to the wash basin to wash them. Then she placed the washed plates on the countertop and turned to her father who was still sitting at the table.

"What do you want me to do now, Father?"

"What would I want you to do by now?"

Ariana was silent for a few seconds, and then it dawned on her.

"Usually you make me read a new chapter in your strategy book…"

"Then start reading, I'll test you later on."

"All right, Father."

Nathaniel watched as Ariana sat at the table with a bulky book of tactics and began to read. He sighed, hoping that a strict and disciplined environment would strengthen his fragile child.


	4. The Second Memory

"Nathaniel, I'm a knight, not an instructor. If you're looking for someone to teach your kid, I suggest you look somewhere else."

Nathaniel sighed, but he knew he could not give up. Time was short, and Ariana had to learn to fight fast. Though he knew that the school would teach her anyway, it would be much better for her to at least know her strengths and weaknesses before jumping into training. Nathaniel would evaluate her himself, but he did not have the resources he needed, and that was why he was here.

However, he was not having much luck. It was just like Reina to refuse to do anything for someone unless she benefited in return, so perhaps he could do just that.

"I could pay you a fee, if that is what you are looking for."

"I'm not short on money; I'm just not that great at teaching, much less with children. I don't think your kid will learn anything vital from me."

"I'm not asking you to teach her. I came to you because I want you to evaluate her. Please, just let her practice with different types of weapons and see which one suits her."

Reina sighed and looked at the father and daughter pensively.

"So you basically want to give her a head start, don't you?"

"Yes, in essence."

Reina did not appear to budge. She frowned, folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. Ariana noticed these signs of hesitation and stepped forward, hoping that she might be able to convince her.

"Please Madam; my father would really appreciate it if you helped us."

Nathaniel scowled and pushed his daughter back. He had hoped she would keep quiet throughout the ordeal, but she did not. He did not want her naiveté to cause unnecessary problems.

"Ariana, let us adults do the talking."

However, Reina appeared to be pleasantly surprised, and decided to listen to what the child had to say if she was bold enough to speak.

"No, no. It's all right. She's the one who's going to benefit from this, so I'd rather hear it from her own mouth. So, do you want to learn how to fight?"

"Yes, Madam."

"Why?"

"Because-"

"…Because your father told you to?"

"Yes, Madam."

She placed her hands on her hips and gave Ariana a look of dissatisfaction.

"I knew it. I don't want to hear that. I want to hear your own reason."

Nathaniel shook slightly in apprehension and grabbed his daughter's arm, dragging her to the door they came from.

"Please, if you don't want to teach her, that's fine, but don't ask her such complicated questions, she-"

"What? She's just a kid? She doesn't know any better? Nope. I don't believe in that. I think she's capable of coming up with things on her own. Please, let her think."

Nathaniel, sighed, dejected, and braced himself for what was about to come out of his daughter's mouth.

"So, where was I? Ah yes, why do you want to fight, and don't say it's because your father said so."

Ariana stared agape and scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, she began to tilt her head from side to side as she tried to come up with what she thought would be the correct response.

"Because… because I want to be strong and learn to protect myself, plus I want to be a tactician like my father."

"Why do you want to be a tactician so much?"

She began to move her head again, trying to find the correct words to say.

"Because… because tacticians are the reason why armies win battles. If they don't have plans or their plans are bad, then lots of people die. I want to save lots of people-"

"No, no, no. Let me rephrase the question, why do you think being a tactician will be good for you?"

Ariana was caught off guard. She appeared to be out of answers. She clearly wanted to think some more, but instead, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Uh… I can order people around?"

Reina began to chuckle, covering her mouth to hide the smile on her face. Nathaniel twitched inwardly, wondering if this was a bad sign and if Ariana endangered her chance to learn combat first hand.

"I'm sorry, she has no manners-"

"What's the problem? She wants to take charge rather than meekly obey. I wish I was this ambitious at her age."

Ariana stared in confusion, wondering how she could have made that assumption even though she didn't think it herself.

"With all due respect, Madam, I did not say that-"

"You didn't have to, I can tell. Now follow me…"

"Does this mean that-"

"Yup, I'm going to see what she's capable of."

"Thank you very much, Madam-"

And talk normally for Gods' sake. You're too young to be stiff and rigid."

"Yes- Okay."

Ariana followed the Pegasus knight obediently, and later they came across a room with weapons of all sorts hanging from the walls. Ariana began to survey the weapons intently as she walked around the room.

"This is called the armoury; we keep all sorts of weapons here for soldiers to use. And this," Reina moved a wooden statue from the corner of the room to the centre, "…is called a training dummy. For practice, instead of attacking a person, you are going to attack this, understood?"

"Understood."

"Now, have you done any kind of training before?"

Ariana sighed and stared at the floor.

"…No, not really."

"…Just as I thought. You have no experience. That is fine. Have you at least seen hand to hand combat?"

She looked up, she appeared slightly more optimistic.

"Yes, Father has taken me to watch the soldiers train all the time."

"Okay, so one step in the right direction…" the Pegasus knight walked towards the walls where various weapons hung, "Do you have any idea what kind of weapon will be best for you?"

"I don't know, but to be honest, I'm not very strong…"

"Define 'not very strong.'"

"I tried to lift an axe once and it was too heavy."

Reina nodded, and passed by the axes.

"Are you fast?"

"Yes, I can run."

Reina nodded and returned to the spot where Ariana was. Then she placed a lance, a sword, and a bow and arrow in front of her pupil.

Ariana examined the weapons carefully, she was not sure which one would work best, but she had to try all of them to find out.

"Do you want me to try these?"

"Yea, you see, the trick to selecting the weapon that will suit you is knowing your body type. You're still young and you'll grow soon, so it's hard to tell as of yet. However, as a general rule, guys tend to be heavier and more muscular, but not particularly fast. Girls tend to be lighter and faster, but not as strong. Of course, there are exceptions, but we won't look into that for now."

"So that is why you gave me weapons that are easier to lift."

"Exactly. Now, we'll start with a bow and arrow."

Ariana picked up the bow and arrow, and then she placed her right leg in front and aimed the arrow at her target.

"Did you learn that from watching the other soldiers?"

"…Yes."

"Pretty good for a first try. Now release."

Ariana released the arrow, however because of her weak arms; the arrow flew straight for a brief second and took a curved path downwards, finally landing at the foot of the statue.

Reina sighed, if she was struggling with a bow and arrow, she probably had a weak throwing arm as well, so javelins and short weapons were out.

"…Apparently not."

Ariana sighed and picked up the sword, it was not as heavy as an axe, but she was still clearly making an effort to lift it.

"All right, now charge."

"Haaa!"

Ariana ran towards the statue as fast as she could, and struck at it, but could not even make a dent. She tried again, but nothing happened. She tried to strike at the statue five times before placing the sword on the floor and giving up.

"So the lance it is…"

Ariana ran back to take the lance and ran towards the statue once more. She stabbed the dummy with all her strength, and was able to knock the dummy down, but it survived with only a small chink in its belly.

Reina looked at her pupil in confusion. Nathaniel's swordplay was near unparalleled, and though he was not the burliest member of the army, he was still quite strong. It seemed that she had the best luck with a lance, but she still was not much of a fighter. She wondered for a minute, this was the child of the famous tactician?

"Well, you are fast; I can give you that…"

Ariana could have thrown up her arms in frustration and told herself she would never make it, but she was not the kind of person who would give up easily. She ignored her instructor for a minute and looked around for another weapon she could use. She searched for several minutes and then found a shelf with different coloured books, and she had an idea.

"I've seen these! Mages use these books all the time, do they not?"

Reina felt somewhat stupid for a minute for not considering her magical capabilities, as most of the mages she saw had terrible strength and defensive capabilities. However in retrospect, she knew why she chose to ignore that variable. Any idiot could master a sword or a lance with practice, but only some people were capable of using magic.

"Yes but we call them tomes, not books. Not many people can use them though. Weapons rely on physical strength, but to use tomes, you need to have a strong mind-"

Reina saw Ariana run to the dummy with a thunder tome in hand before she could finish her sentence.

"Hey, hey! Not so fast-"

Ariana opened the tome and recited the incantation inscribed, and almost immediately after, a bolt of lightning came from the tome and shattered the dummy. She stared at the heap of wood before her in awe and was grinning from ear to ear at her accomplishments.

"So you're useless in close combat, but I can't say the same when it comes to magic…"

Ariana turned around to see her father standing at the doorway.

"Nathaniel, how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough."

Ariana ran towards him and shoved the tome in his face to emphasize the fact that she had accomplished something.

"Father, did you see that? I actually used a tome! I can fight and get stronger and be a tactician like you!"

Nathaniel frowned. Children started out like this, believing that learning how to fight would give them acknowledgement and praises. Then after actually going into war and learning what the real world is like, they change completely. Ariana was not going to remain a cheerful and optimistic little girl forever; in fact, he wanted to put a stop to this childlike behaviour as quickly as possible.

"Just because you fared well against a piece of wood doesn't mean you can hold your own in an actual fight."

"Hey, don't discourage her. She's happy that she knows how to fight, let her at least have that. She's got plenty of time to hone whatever skills she has."

"She's becoming arrogant, that thinking will get her killed."

"She knows that, and she'll learn quickly. She can keep the tome she used, there's plenty more where that came from. Oh yea, there's one thing I forgot to mention."

"What is it?"

"Weapons don't last forever. If you keep using them, they will eventually break, look at your tome now, what do you see?"

Ariana flipped through the tome to see that the page she used earlier was missing.

"The page is gone!"

"That page became the lightning bolt you used to attack that dummy. Remember that each time you use a spell, a page will disappear, and when all the pages are gone, you can't use it anymore. Make sure you take at least two tomes with you to a fight."

"I will."

"Hey, kid, why don't you wait outside for a bit, I need to talk to your father in private."

Ariana nodded and walked outside the room, but she had no intention of leaving. She knew she was still a child and had a lot to learn, but she hated being excluded from the conversation all the same. She waited until the door to the armoury was closed, and then pressed her ears to the door to listen.

"That was pretty harsh on the kid, Nathaniel." Reina sounded disapproving, like she was advising her father.

"I told her what she needed to hear."

"Would it kill you to praise her at least once?"

It was then when Ariana began to realize that she was right. If she did her chores, made a smart move in chess, or answered a question right, her father would ignore it. However when she made a mistake, he would admonish her. Others praised her when she did something right, so why couldn't her father do the same?

"Complementing her will only inflate her ego."

"I know you can't exactly be a doting parent, but can't you lighten up just a little bit?"

"Start while they are young, then they will not be traumatized by the harshness of life when they're older."

He was using words beyond her comprehension, but she thought she understood the gist of it because of all that her father told her in the past. He mentioned often that the real world was a harsh and unwelcoming place. So he was treating her harshly so that the real world would not bother her.

"Well, I have to give you some credit; she's mature for her age. So maybe your 'discipline or nothing' parenting style does help in some ways. I don't exactly like it, but I can't ignore what I see in front of me."

"I don't care if you like it or not. We may be friends and we may have helped each other during the war, but it is not your place to decide how I should raise my daughter. I came to you to help her, not to advise me on how to be a parent. Thank you for your efforts."

Ariana heard her father's footsteps and ran away from the door to ensure that he would not catch her listening to their conversation. She kept running until she was outside the castle, and waited until her father showed up.

As they walked home, she wondered, should she tell her father what she had heard? She was worried he would reprimand her or beat her if she asked him. She kept quiet, but kept watching his expressionless face intently, and when he caught her eye, she looked down at the ground instinctively.

"You were listening, weren't you?"

Ariana stopped walking; she tensed and began to shiver, preparing for yet another tirade or beating.

"I… I just wanted to know what you were talking about…"

"Will you stop shivering like that? Now hurry up, it will be dark soon."

They continued to walk, and were silent for a minute until Nathaniel finally spoke.

"I'm not angry with you. In fact I'm glad you did. Do you understand why I say what I say, and why I do the things I do?"

"Because the real world is a cruel place, and if you start teaching me now, I won't be scared when I grow up."

"Correct."

They both stopped talking and continued to walk home, but Ariana could not help but wonder if her father was one hundred percent correct.


	5. The Third Memory

Time is a strange thing, and how we perceive it is even stranger. Peace, no matter how long it may be, passes by quickly and is often taken for granted. War however, no matter how short it may be, feels like aeons, and stays in our minds no matter how hard we try to forget it.

The Kingdom of Valm knew peace for twelve years, and yet this peace passed by so quickly it may as well have been twelve months. Now another war was on the rise, but not like any other war the nation has ever seen before.

"The resistance is making its way to the castle as we speak. There are about thirty soldiers, but most of them are former peasants."

Nathaniel sighed and furtively wiped the sweat from his brow as he stared his commander, General Walhart, in the eye. The man stared at the tactician intently, without wavering his eyes even for a second. He seemed to be scrutinizing his subordinate without any room for mercy, and though Nathaniel was used to his harshness, he could not stop himself from being intimidated.

Considering the circumstances though, he was handling himself well. He and twenty of Valm's finest soldiers sat at the large rectangular table in the council room, surrounded by drafts of battle plans and maps. All eyes were on him, everyone was staring at him like children stared at their teacher, awaiting instruction and sure that if they followed his orders, they would survive.

"So the enemy appears to be more focused on numbers than on the quality of its army…" Walhart mused, "Expected of rebels. They're more concerned about the end rather than the means…"

"Correct. They also seem to be counting on brute strength. Our espionage team came back a few days ago and told us that the enemy brought exactly ten knights, ten fighters, five cavaliers, and five heroes. Armoured units are no match for mages, flyers, and anti-armour weaponry. Fighters and Cavaliers can be dealt with by anyone; however the heroes may pose a problem."

The room, which was silent a few seconds prior, became filled with the sounds of heated discussion. Eventually the voices grew so loud that Walhart had to hit the table with his fist, which caused everyone in the room to shut their mouths. Afterwards, a Pegasus knight began to shift nervously in her seat, and then stood to address her tactician.

"Any word from our soldiers at Fort Stieger, sir?"

Nathaniel bit the inside of his cheek and stared at his shoes, a sign that he did not wish to be reminded of what happened there.

"Overpowered. Indeed, a bit of carelessness on my part. Most of them managed to retreat, but there are about five casualties."

Walhart's ears seemed to perk up at the very mention of failure, and he gave Nathaniel a deadly glare.

"Very disappointing, Mila help you should you fail us this time." His voice was calm but threatening; Nathaniel could not help but shiver as he knew that Walhart meant every word he said.

"I assure you, General Walhart, it won't happen again." He hung his head down for a second, and then looked up, "Now, based on what the espionage team gave us, I have decided we take ten mages, ten Pegasus knights, myself, five generals, and four paladins."

"Mages? Why not sages? They could also serve as medics." A new recruit piped up from the back of the room.

"Yes, that is something I overlooked, however we don't have as many sages as we would like."

"There's Pheros and her brigade, but… oh, you are right. Three sages including her, and the rest are trainees. We have ten Pegasus knights, all under Reina, and we've got plenty of generals and paladins, so we just send out our strongest ones."

Pheros, who was sitting in the left hand corner, stared at her hands and hung her head in sadness, her blonde locks covering her face.

"A nice thought, but there is one problem…"

"What do you mean, Pheros?" Nathaniel asked.

"One of my trainees… died in the attack on Fort Stieger. We only have nine units that are capable of using magic."

Pheros began to tremble, judging from her reaction, the now dead recruit was most likely someone dear to her.

"May I ask, who was it?"

She glared at Nathaniel for a split second, and then looked down again.

"It was Aurelia, sir."

Nathaniel too hung his head upon hearing this unfortunate news. She was older than Ariana by a couple of years, only finished school recently. He remembered ordering Pheros' brigade to participate in the attack, only for them to be defeated … so in a sense, he was to blame for her daughter's death. All he could do now was hope that Ariana would not meet a similar fate.

"…A grave loss."

"Please, spare me your condolences," Pheros spat contemptuously, "If you think you can ease the pain of her death with some pretty words, you're either overly optimistic or laughably ignorant."

"I am aware, Pheros, as a parent, I understand-"

"You lead her to her death and now you have the gall to try and sympathize with me?"

"Pheros, desist, or will I have to order you to back out from this next battle due to being… emotionally compromised?"

Pheros appeared to have gotten the message and stopped, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Now, Pheros is right about one thing, we are one mage short. We either need to find a solution or an alternative to this problem, any ideas?"

There was silence, but then Pheros stood with a determined look in her eyes, as if something had clicked in her head. She stared squarely at Nathaniel with a heartless smile.

"Wait a minute; your daughter is a mage isn't she?"

Pheros was in pain, Nathaniel told himself. She was in agony over the death of her child, and misery always loved company. Surely everyone would realize that, everyone would tell her that putting Ariana on the battlefield was a horrible idea. Or better yet, he could convince them that it was a horrible idea.

"…Forget about it, she wouldn't last a minute in a fight."

"Quite the contrary… I know one of the administrators at the Valmese Military Academy, she has an exceptional record. Exemplary students are conscripted all the time, are they not?"

The other soldiers began to murmur and one by one, they nodded their heads in agreement. A handful of them, obviously mothers and fathers, did not like this judgement, but eventually they were coaxed into going along with the decision.

"Yes. It's settled. Well done, Pheros, thanks to you, our little number situation has been fixed. Draw up our battle plans, Nathaniel. The rebels will be here in about two days."

Time froze at that moment. He couldn't hear the discussion, he could not see his comrades, he couldn't even see Pheros still smiling cruelly at him. His surroundings were a complete blur; the only thing he was sure of at that moment was this: Walhart was sending Ariana to die.

"We… we could ask Reina to promote one of her recruits-"

"No can do. Their magical capabilities are hopeless, you should know that. I sense your rapier intellect has been… duller these past few years. I know not the cause, and I honestly could not care less."

"There must be another way-"

"Since when did you suddenly become so concerned about our younger soldiers? What stopped you from putting Pheros' daughter on the front lines?"

Indeed, Walhart was right. He wanted to say that this was different, because Aurelia was old enough to go into battle and Ariana was not. If he said that however, he would be seen as a hypocrite, someone who claimed that abilities were more important than age and yet would not apply the same principle to his own family. Yet, in essence that was what he was, but how could he say such a thing?

"You can't do this-"

"Stop quivering like an infant, it ill becomes you. Besides, how old is Ariana, twelve? Children younger than her are put on the battlefield. Don't make a big deal out of nothing."

"Please…"

"Goodbye, Nathaniel. I expect a full strategy by tomorrow. Council adjourned everyone." Walhart got up from his chair and began to leave the room, refusing to look back.

"You can't do this! You can't- oh for Mila's sake… she's just a child! She's…"

The entire war council was staring at them with judging eyes. Nathaniel could only imagine what was going on in their heads, and it most probably was not good.

What would he tell Ariana? How would she handle the news?

* * *

It was the last day of the month, and eight o'clock in the evening, which meant that it was time for inspection. The slightest bit of ill conduct, the smallest article of clothing left astray, or so much as one hair out of place would result in doing extra exercises tomorrow, or worse, cleaning duty.

The fact that inspections were a regular occurrence did not stop the girls' dormitory from being filled with nervous chatter and running about. Students began hurriedly folding their clothes and putting them in their trunks, making their beds, throwing rubbish into bins, and grooming themselves and making sure their uniforms were spick and span. There were a couple of final years who sat and did nothing while giving orders to the little ones, but some were more compassionate and helping out their juniors. Some of the seven year olds were crying, and a couple ten year olds were trying to calm them down.

It would have been a typical boarding school, except for the overly harsh punishments and high expectations, as well as the fact that you not only learned mathematics, but also how to use a weapon.

Once all the cleaning was finished, the students stood in their places and began to fidget nervously, and once they heard the sound of a piercing whistle, they knew what to do. They all stood attention, side by side in a straight line, with harsh expressions on their faces to hide their nervousness.

The matron, a stern faced woman in her fifties who wore the swordmaster uniform and had long grey hair tightly wrapped in a bun, stepped in. If she gave the room a cursory glance, she would be satisfied. There were sixty girls standing orderly and quietly in a spotless dormitory. But it wasn't her job to give cursory glances. She knew she had to carefully observe every detail, there had to have been at least one student who made a mistake.

She took a couple of steps towards the girl nearest to her, and began to scrutinize every detail of her appearance, how she kept her hair, how she kept her uniform, whether or not her shoes were polished, then if she found nothing wrong, would take another step and do the same to the next one.

"Untied shoes… ten extra laps tomorrow."

The seven year old sniffled, trying to hold back tears, the matron wacked her left shoulder with the stick she was carrying. The child knelt down from the sheer force of the blow.

"Consider yourself a corpse if you can't handle that, weakling."

She kept on walking, inspecting each student with the eyes of a hawk.

"Sweating like a pig, hair let loose, two days of cleaning duty in the mess hall."

"Forgive me, Matron, I've had a high fever these past two days."

The other girls inwardly flinched; nobody talked back to the matron unless they had a death wish.

"Oh, I'm sorry, your highness, perhaps you would like tea and a massage? Or would you like to have your pillows fluffed?"

She struck the girl on both her shoulders, and then in the gut, she winced in pain.

"You do as you're told, sick or not. What did you expect, that we would show concern for you? That we would pardon you for your misgivings? This isn't some fancy academy for nobles, you're here to toughen up, you understand? Four days of cleaning duty in the mess hall."

Then she stopped in the middle of the line. Her long black hair was neatly combed and tied in a ponytail, her uniform was spotless, her shoes were tied and polished, and she stared at the matron with a neutral expression. She had something important to tell this one, but she didn't know if it was good news or bad. She had been fighting for so long that she knew what was going to happen to this one should she survive. She wanted to feel sorry for her, but steeled herself. It has happened many times before, she's seen students die in battle and students come back from it not quite the same all the time.

"Number thirty-seven…"

She had been called that for five years, so she knew that she should respond. Students were just numbers here.

"A message for you…"

She held out her hand and stared blankly at the conscription notice, and then continued her inspection as usual. Once it was all over, chaos ensued.

The younger ones began to crowd around her and cheer, but her seniors just stared at her like she was already dead. They knew that being sent to fight was not something to celebrate. And some of her classmates knew too.

She could handle it, she told herself. She had to come out alive. She had so much of her life to live, and she was determined not to die. If she survived, her father would be proud of her and she would be seen as a hero by her fellows.

She had to survive; she had no other choice…

* * *

Ariana woke up early that day, she didn't care that she was in the barracks. She chose to ignore that she was in an unfamiliar place and began to get ready swiftly and mechanically. She brushed her teeth meticulously, bathed as fast as she could, and then was about to dress, but once she looked at her mages' uniform, she froze.

She was scared, and she wasn't supposed to be. Fear was bad; it was a sign of weakness, and nobody liked weakness. The students who cried, shivered, or hesitated were punished or beaten. Her father would admonish her for expressing fear all the time. She had only been scared three times in her life. The first was when she was three or four and her father beat her for breaking a couple of clay pots, the second was when she was about to attend military school, and the third and worst was two years ago, when she started bleeding.

However, all those times were different. All the things she feared before this seemed miniscule and childish now. It was stupid to be scared of being beaten; parents did that when their kids misbehaved. She was little when she first went to school, and adjusted quickly. She learned later that bleeding was absolutely normal and she got used to that too. There was no guarantee that she would even live to see the next day, let alone get used to participating in an actual battle and killing actual people. No, scared was too small a word for what she was feeling right now, she was terrified.

She wondered, what would her father say if he was standing there? He would probably tell her to snap out of it and get her act together. If her teachers from school were there, they would beat her with a stick and force her to fight. If her classmates were there, they would probably shake their heads in disapproval. 'I thought she was so strong,' they would say, 'so she really is just a wimp,' they would say, 'she's probably like those noble bimbos who wear frilly dresses and cry over everything,' they would say.

She didn't want anyone in school to think low of her, and most of all; she wanted to make her father proud. So she pushed her fear aside and began to put on her uniform. She started with the long sleeved black inner shirt, and then the black tunic with quarter sleeves, and then tucked them both into the green leggings, then came the blue cape and front piece that came down to her knees, the belt which she wrapped firmly around her waist, and lastly the boots. Of course, there were also the fingerless gloves she wore so she could hide the birthmark on her right hand. Her father told her never to take them off, though she wasn't really sure why. She would have worn a hat, but they were flimsy and more likely to obscure your vision than they were to protect you, and besides, she thought they looked ridiculous.

She kept two tomes on the bed, one was lightning, the other was fire, and took them both. She felt embarrassed for a moment, as her fellow soldiers would be seasoned mages or even sages and Valkyries that can use high level magic. Once they saw her low level tomes, they would probably laugh at her. She shook her head, fear was bad, and she couldn't be scared of anything, especially being laughed at.

She manuevered her way around the seasoned soldiers and began to walk outside, where they would be ready to leave for battle. Her father would be leading the forces, he had his strategy all planned out. She saw him walking among them; she decided to talk to him, as she knew it might be her last chance.

"Number thirty-seven reporting for duty, Fa-sir."

Nathaniel stared at her. She did not bear any ill will towards him for putting her on the battlefield, but she was afraid, he probably sensed it and spoke in his standard commanding tone.

"Nobody knows your number here. This isn't school; one wrong move and you won't live to see your next birthday."

"I am aware. One cannot be too cautious in battle."

"You may know this in theory, but can you put it to practice?"

"I cannot boast of sure triumph against the unknown, but I will attempt to fight regardless. I reviewed your strategic plans yesterday… sir. The rebels appear to be using strong and bulky units, most of which are weak to magic, which is why you chose your soldiers accordingly. You divided your army so that Pheros' brigade, which I will be fighting with, will be charged with the disposal of the ten enemy knights."

"You just contradicted yourself. You said you could not boast of winning, but from the way you are talking, you seem to have this all figured out."

"Of course, there is another variable to consider. That is the fact that mages are strong attackers, but should they be hit in battle, they will not last long. So the best thing to do is attack from afar, move as fast as possible, do whatever you can to make sure the enemy cannot reach you. In essence, a stealth oriented approach would be ideal when fighting against knights."

"You're just spouting the knowledge you gained from reading textbooks, unless you can put it to good use, you've been studying for nothing."

They stopped as they found they were outside the castle, where thirty soldiers were standing attention and divided into groups.

"Don't disappoint me."

Ariana walked towards Pheros' brigade, which was on the far left-hand side. Ariana had only seen the woman a couple of times, but remembered a few things about her. She stern but kind, and she had a strong will. Her daughter died in the attack on Fort Stieger, and Ariana remembered seeing her in the corridors at school before she graduated. Ariana could only imagine what she must be feeling right now. She was probably furious. Furious with her daughter for getting careless in battle, furious with the soldiers who killed her, furious with Mila herself who decided to end Aurelia's life prematurely, there was probably so much anger inside her, but she was able to push it aside for a greater cause.

She stood attention with her fellow magic users, Pheros looked at Ariana in a way she didn't think she'd be capable of doing. The commander stared at her with a mix of satisfaction and contempt, as though she wanted Ariana dead. This didn't make sense to her, Ariana was on their side, plus she had nothing to do with Aurelia getting killed. Pheros had no reason to hate her.

It was because she was weak, yes, that was it. She was the weakest and youngest soldier in the bunch. Weakness was to be hated with no exceptions, so Pheros did have a reason to hate her. Some part of her wanted to prove her, to show Pheros that she was not weak, but she wondered, would she be capable of doing that?

"Okay, listen up." Nathaniel began to pace the floor while facing his army.

"We thought we had the upper hand, we thought a bunch of disgruntled rebels would be easy to take care of, but the incident at Fort Stieger made us learn a painful lesson: never underestimate your opponent no matter how much the odds appear to be in your favour." He paused for a few seconds to let his words sink in.

"If there's one thing we know about these rebels, it's this: They're chaotic, disorganized, and just want to see blood spilled by their own hands. Their strength is based purely on the intensity with which they hate the royal family. We have something that they don't however, a plan."

Pheros was still glaring at Ariana, which made her more determined to prove herself than ever.

"Stealth, speed, and precision are the keys to winning here. The generals and paladins are all up front and guarding the castle, I will be joining them after I deal with you. Reina, your Pegasus knights will attack from above. And Pheros… you and your trainees will take cover wherever feasible and take the enemy by surprise." As soon as he finished, angry cries could be heard in the distance, a sign that the time to talk was over.

"Now everyone, take your positions!"

Ariana could barely process what happened after that. She remembered scrambling for her life, running to the castle walls where she could take cover. She remembered the rebels' screams, the screams of the other soldiers, the cries of pegasi and their riders and the sounds of javelins whooshing through the air, the sounds of swords and spears clanging... what she heard was not that bad. It was what she saw that was horrifying.

A general heartlessly drove his lance into a rebel's chest, and he screamed in horror. Blood spattered all over his tunic as he fell over. A paladin hacked off the arms of another one and then stabbed him to death. A javelin was stuck in the side of another one and she was covered in blood, her father decapitated another one. The sight was so sickening that she wanted to throw up, but she couldn't. She wasn't a weakling, and she didn't want to act like one.

Several more of them made it past the generals and paladins and were now on the other side, which meant it was now her turn. She knew better than to act rashly, so she looked at who was there to see if she could land a hit on anybody. There were two heroes, seven knights, and three cavaliers. The heroes were incredibly strong, the knights were bulky but slow, the cavaliers were somewhere in between. They all looked the same to her save for one. One of the knights was clearly smaller than all the rest, and he was shaking as he held a cheap spear in his hand. He appeared to be shorter and younger, but she knew that boys grew later than girls, so he may have been her age or even a little bit older. He was running about, uncertain of what to do or where to go, and he appeared to be crying.

It didn't matter if he was older, or younger, or her age. He was a coward. He was a weakling. Weakness needed to be beaten out, and weaklings needed to be pruned if they couldn't shape up. It was clearly a stupid move to put someone like him on the front lines, but it was good for her side. It meant that she would show Pheros and her father that she wasn't weak, or at least not as weak as that.

But then she saw Pheros use a bolganone on a cavalier. The horse and her rider let out high pitched screams as they were being roasted alive, the horse fell down and tottered and flailed about as it burned, and the cavalier began to roll on the ground, still screaming until they both turned to ash. Then she saw a mage use a superior jolt on a knight and he got electrocuted to death. Watching this was even worse than watching people getting dismembered and stabbed.

Could she do that to a fellow human being? Could she do that to another child who was probably in the same position as her? Maybe he had a father or mother he wanted to make proud, or maybe he too wanted to show that he wasn't weak, just like her. Maybe he could have gone to the same school as her, maybe, just maybe, he could have been the friend she desperately wanted to have.

As she heard the clanging of armor coming towards her, she knew she had to make a decision. The boy held out his spear tentatively at her, but he looked clumsy and he was shaking and sweating.

"Don't come any closer, or I'll have to hurt you!" If that was his idea of a threat, it was a very bad one.

She would have to have this boy electrocuted or burned to death...

"I'll- I'll fight you!"

But if she did not kill him, she would get killed, and her father would be disappointed, and she would be remembered as the weakling who ran from a fight...

"I'll... I'll-"

She read the incantation and the boy was hit with a stream of fire. His entire upper body was in flames, and he was screaming pitifully.

"No! I don't want to do this! I wanna go home!"

She read the incantation again, and now the boy was being char broiled. His flesh was slowly burning off.

"I don't wanna die! I want my mom and dad!"

A third time, and the boy was reduced to unintelligible shrieks. He fell to the floor, burning and screaming in agony. Now she wouldn't be a weakling, now she would be a hero, in fact, killing wasn't so bad now... she killed one, so where was the harm in killing a couple more?

She sprinted towards the next knight. She had to say the fire incantation five or six times before he was reduced to a flaming corpse. Then she did the same to the next soldier, and the soldier after that, until her tome was almost half done. When she looked around for more victims, she realized there were none. The battle was over.

This was enough to make up for the incident on Fort Stieger, two were injured, and there were zero casualties. The enemy had been virtually obliterated. There were only a couple of rebels left, once they were taken care of, the war would be over.

Ariana looked down, her uniform was covered in blood, and so were her tomes, she was sweating and her hair was disheveled. Her head was throbbing, her body was shaking. She felt dizzy, like she was about to collapse. Why didn't she feel stronger? Why didn't she feel satisfied? Why didn't she feel thankful to be alive?

All the soldiers gathered around to celebrate their triumph, but Ariana did not feel like celebrating at all.

"Excellent work, everyone. Now there are only ten rebels left, and they will probably come here to avenge their fallen comrades. Don't think you can celebrate yet, we still haven't won the war."

Then her father began talking. Something about strategy, about tending to the injured, General Walhart came out and congratulated him, but she didn't care. She couldn't pay attention to any of this. How could she even think of anything else after what just happened?

"Yes... another battle. More blood for me then... more burning people... more fried people..."

Even she couldn't make sense of what she was saying.

"More people to kill... yes... killing is good... fear is bad..."

She was so shattered that she wouldn't be able to notice everyone looking at her with sad eyes, or Pheros clenching her fists, or her father walking towards her. She knelt down and began to cackle, then she started pulling her hair, which now fell below her shoulders, and rocked back and forth.

"Who will die next? It doesn't matter, I can kill anybody now-"

Under normal circumstances, she would have been embarrassed at the fact that her father beat her in public, but now she didn't care. In fact, she felt like she deserved being punched in the face and kicked in the ribs.

"Get a grip on yourself."

She covered her face with her hands and cried.


End file.
