#mycen is having the time of his life

[duthea]

Another one for this AU, where Trip adopted Gold! They're trying out clothes in a store. This was meant to be a quick doodle but I got carried away...

[katofvalentia]

Another Echoes ramble: Berkut edition, go!

I will open this up by saying that I enjoy this character, a lot. I think this mainly stems from the fact that Fire Emblem is a series where a lot of its major antagonists fall either into the role of problem dragon or evil cult, not that there is anything wrong with that mind you, I just appreciate some variety. Echoes was my 3rd FE, after Awakening and Fates, so I think that sorta explains my attachment to this character.

Now onto the actual opinion post!

The rest will be under the cut

From what I have seen, the general consensus around Echoes original characters is split, you either care about them or don't. I think they have been discussed at length already so for the sake of not getting off-topic, I will leave it at that.

I would like to talk about Berkut's role in overall narrative first.

Before Echoes, Alm's character didn't have its narrative foil. Celica does compliment what he lacks but is still not a foil in his story. The big enemies Alm faces aka. Rudolf, Jedah and ultimately Duma are not the true contrast to Alm. As he is part of Rudolf's plans, he inherits his wish (while Rudolf is also a martyr). Alm, like most Rigelians in the story, represents Duma's philosophy of strength and fortitude but not its extreme. Duma and Mila's extremes come from both dragon degeneration and their position as godlike figures of Valentia. And lastly Jedah, while being Alm's opposition, was not his foil, but rather he was Celica's. So naturally, the next step was to give him a proper foil for the remake. That is where Berkut comes in.

I had expressed this many times, but a big part of Alm's character (in Echoes at least) is how much he is attached to his own identity as Mycen's grandson. He goes with Lucas and ultimately accepts leading the Deliverance as Mycen's representative (according to what Clive had envisioned). He does what he does to carry on his legacy when Mycen refuses to do so himself, to honor his name and his blood, as he was led to believe all his life. His world shatters as the truth reveals itself.

Berkut, as Rudolf's nephew, was raised to be the next ruler of Rigel. He takes great pride in that, even during his first meeting with Rinea he uses his identity to present his own value. This is interesting when you consider Rudolf's lines in Fire Emblem Heroes, which directly state that Berkut was a shy boy in the past. Also worthy of note would be Rudolf's lv 40 convo in FEH where he admits that he could not bear to face Berkut due to his guilt over sending Alm away (and his overall grand scheme). Growing up in Rigel, the country that it is now, practically run by the extreme teachings of Duma's faith, around the hardened emperor Rudolf who strives towards his own goal for a better Valentia in self-isolation and many of the soldiers and generals following them, it is natural that Berkut would become arrogant and prideful. However what makes him different arround the other high ranking officials in Rigel is that his dependance on being the heir to the Empire is a sign of a deeply neglected inferiority complex. Every time his identity is threatened in the story due to his failures, he seeks attention from Rudolf but to no avail. And at every turn, a Duma faithfull is present to pull him down further, to mock him and use his insecurities for their own agenda of serving Duma. Just like with Alm, his world shatters once the truth reveals itself, the truth neither character can no longer try to deny.

----------------------------------------------------

Alm is not Mycen's grandson.

Berkut is not the heir to Rigel.

----------------------------------------------------

Alm is not allowed to crack, there is no peace for him, only a responsibility he is now forced to bear. He who was raised by Mycen, a former Zofian general with Rigelian origins, is basically told to deal with it, bcuz destiny or whatever. Alm had his friends to fall back on, the friends who followed him bcuz he was Alm of Ram Village, the people who followed him bcuz he proved to be a capable leader of the Deliverence and what he learned growing up with both strength and kindness. So while it was definitely hard to accept his new identity, not being alone (in a sense) and having a clear goal (to reach Celica), made it a bit easier.

But where does Berkut trully crack? Not immediately upon finding out that Alm is Rudolf's son, but when Rinea in his eyes "rejects his identity". Rinea, the kind girl that she is, loved Berkut. But to Berkut, the heir of Rigel's throne, her declaration that she would support him when he is just Berkut, seemed like a betrayal to him. At that moment, he grouped her with everyone else who pitied him. But how can the future Emperor of Rigel be pitied, that is surely not the way things are supposed to be??? And for that, the maddened Duma gave his blessings and strength that Berkut thinks is rightfully his, with the woman he loves by his side. Everyone else is wrong, what he was raised to be however, is correct.

Alm's journey was about a boy who did not think about the big picture at first, forced to expand his horizons as duty is thrust upon him multiple times. He had to grow out of thinking from just his perspective, as a Deliverence member, as a villager from Ram, as Mycen's grandson. Berkut however has chosen to remain narrow-minded, bcuz he had nothing else to fall back on aside from his own identity. And this narrow-mindedness proves to be his downfall, as well as Fernand's (his case is more complex tho) and Jedah's at that matter. Even at death's door, he doesn't suddenly change in that regard. I personally believe that Berkut hallucinates Rinea at the end (well I think that was the intention of the scene since nobody else reacts to Rinea herself), bcuz that reinforces everything that has been established about his character. Yeah he lost, but he is meant for even greater things, at least he thinks that himself.

While Jedah was meant to be the extreme of what Celica could have become if she surrendered herself to Mila's faith, Berkut was meant to be the human equivalent of Duma's extremes, as those extremes had shaped him into what he was. Rudolf ultimately made the right choice to send Alm away, bcuz he easily could have ended up like that, or even worse due to his destiny, when not even Rudolf could have been able to interfere.

"He is carried by his voice actor." I hear many tend to say about him. Well yes in fact, he is, mister Ian Sinclair did a phenomenal job portraying Berkut's charater, and I personally would say his performance is stronger than the one provided by his JP counterpart. Many characters in media are defined by their voices, be it the way they speak or through actual voice acting. So I don't think that saying "he is only good bcuz of his VA" is a real jab at his character imho.

Another thing I noticed is, I believe that in order to get attached to Berkut, you need to be invested either in Alm's character or story to a certain degree at the very least. Which is a testament to how much Berkut is a foil to Alm and how his addition to Echoes' story was a meaningful change.

[four-loose-screws]

FE2 Novelization Translation - Chapter 1 Part 3

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

Chapter 1 - The Deliverance

Part 3 - The Mysterious Girl Silque

Lukas still did not know that Desaix's army had captured Clair, nor that Mathilda had disappeared. He snuck past Mycen, and with Alm close behind, left the sleeping Ram Village before dawn. His steps a bit more loose this time, feeling satisfied that he had at least completed his duty halfway.

But while his steps were looser, his form was still far from that of a normal person. His legs, having endured countless days of training and strengthening in life-threatening battles, crushed and kicked around any pebble in his path as they traveled north. Alm diligently kept up with him the entire way, not falling even a few steps behind, reassuring Lukas of how reliable he would be. They should reach the coastal cave just before the currently rising sun fell once again.

Lukas suddenly stopped. He sensed a wicked presence closing in on them. 

Alm also picked up on the reason why Lukas was standing still, and walked a few steps ahead of Lukas to identify who it might be.

Then he said, "It's the band of Brigands that caused trouble around here last night. They're the reason why I mistook who you were earlier."

Now that their targets had stopped, there was only one thing that any Brigand would do. Like an army of ants marching towards sugarcane, one dark figure appeared after another from the shadows of the bushes lining the road, surrounding Lukas and Alm. They formed one ring after another, with no clear end to their numbers in sight.

None of the Brigands, all covered from head to toe in black clothing, spoke a word. The only sound that could be heard was that of their daggers scraping against each other in their breast pockets. They were not thinking right now about what they could steal. They would have all the time in the world to mull that question over Lukas and Alm’s bodies.

As the Brigands drew their daggers, the way the blades glistened brilliantly in the moonlight resembled the movement of the whitecaps of the ocean's waves. Lukas held his lance out at his hip, and Alm drew his sword up to his midsection. They both stood back-to-back, ready to face their enemies.

"This lot isn't even worthy of the end of my blade, but they will be a good test of my skills. Watch and see that I'm more than just talk!" Alm said quietly to him. 

Lukas was already well aware of what he could do, but nodded and immediately decided to function as his backup instead. He would follow whatever steps Alm took.

A scream filled the air the moment Alm rushed straight into the Brigands' lines all on his own.

But it was not a scream that could have come from the middle of the Brigands surrounding them, that Alm had his sword pointed towards. On the utterly unexpected contrary, the screams that rang throughout the night air, and the blood that danced in the moonlight, came from the outer ring of Brigands. Someone was attacking them from outside their formation.

The sudden attack caused the Brigands to flinch ever so slightly. Alm's skills were so great that he did not even need such an opening, but it made them an easier opponent to cut down than a straw puppet. The Brigands' strategy was to surround Lukas and Alm, but before they knew it, they had become the ones being surrounded. With that realization, they suddenly weren't so tough anymore, and quickly revealed their thought process was so shallow, they did not even have a next move.

Heads flew through the air with a noise like that of a whistle, and one after the other, the Brigands all turned their backs towards Lukas and Alm, then scrambled into the bushes. Running away was the one option they chose the moment they knew they were no match. That fact proved that thieves do not live to fight.

Now that the thieves had disappeared from the midnight road, the three people who attacked their formation from the outside now stood in the moonlight. However, the shadows still kept their identities a secret. They were rolling the thieves' corpses into a big pile that resembled strands of seaweed washed upon a winter shore. 

Alm paid the bodies no mind, and stepped over them to walk over to one of the three people, then put a hand on one of their shoulders and said, "My friends!"

Alm first hugged Gray, then Tobin, then Kliff, before facing Gray again to punch him in the stomach.

Gray said, "When you left, we immediately did the same. Did you really think we would be able to stay calm and not follow after you?"

"What are you going on about?! You should have climbed those trees and watched us from up there! It would have given you new inspiration for your girly painting hobby!"

"Screw you!" Gray said, and returned Alm's gesture with a punch to his face. His belt had an extra bag hanging from it that no one else had, which held some pigments and a brush he used to paint. He was not at all aggressive and disliked fighting, but he was good at painting and caring for the village elders.

"Taking down that number of foes would have been hard, even for you! Though Lukas was with you, so we didn't really have anything to worry about…" Tobin chimed in, despite the fact that he was still so clearly concerned for Alm's safety that he was shaking and had not yet sheathed his sword.

Alm said, "I would have been fine on my own. It's not about numbers. What I'm always gauging is the group's fighting spirit."

Lukas couldn't believe his ears. Alm didn't just have amazing swordsmanship talent. Even though he had never taken a single step out of Ram Village, Lukas felt that he already had the resourcefulness of a great leader.

"Let's chase after the survivors. Four thieves managed to escape. We can each take one." Gray said. 

Alm responded, "Got it! This'll be our goodbye gift to Ram Village. Although it is technically the other way around…"

"They went east. My guess is that they're heading into the valley. Their base has to be there." Tobin said, already moving to disappear into the bushes. 

Gray, then Alm, also started to follow after their respective target. Lukas felt as if they completely ignored him.

The one other person still left there, Kliff, seemed to have waited for the other three to leave before walking up to Lukas.

Kliff spoke in a very serious voice that was quiet in a different way from Gray and Tobin. "I won't let you get in my way."

His reason for objecting to Lukas was strange. "I know about Alm's tragedy. It is a tragedy so great that it will change the world, and it is an inevitable fate that no one can change. I want to confirm that it is true for myself, even if you do not agree. That is why I will go with Alm."

For a moment, Kliff glared at Lukas with eyes that said they knew too much. Those eyes were like the moon, so dark and deep that only a water well could compare, distant and dreaming of the gods. Those eyes immediately disappeared from Lukas' line of sight, and followed after the other three into the bushes.

Lukas paused to look up at the moon. From its current position, he knew that there was still time. And so, while shaking his head in exasperation at just how troublesome these boys were, he disappeared into the bushes after them.

-

Not a single ray of sunlight reached the valley, and so it was completely devoid of any plant life. And due to a recent drought, the once beautiful stream flowing through its barren land no longer had even a single drop of water in it.

Along the stone walls on either side of them were cracks that looked like tenement houses. Tobin explained that they were the thieves' hideouts. Alm, Gray, Tobin, and Kliff readied themselves to each attack and capture one of the remaining thieves.

A single scream echoed throughout the valley. And the loud laugh that followed it was immediately recognized as Gray's.

As the most intelligent of them, Kliff gripped both hands around the hilt of his sword and rubbed his back against one of the stone walls, choosing only those that could support his weight. Tobin could also be seen doing the same thing against the other wall.

The third crack had a particularly large opening, and was pitch black inside. They heard a rock fall from within it.

Someone was in there. Kliff slipped himself through that crack.

Inside, it was dark, and cold condensation dripped onto his cheeks. Still, he had no choice but to adjust his eyes to it. He weighed the risk vs reward of a surprise attack in his head, then finally made his decision and started to take a torch out from one of the bags attached to his waist. However, a ball of fire appeared a moment faster than he lit the torch. It was small, but emitted a very bright light.

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, the first thing he saw was a girl's face. She was biting her lip, communicating to him that she was enduring something causing her pain. Beneath her face, framed by bangs cut perfectly straight across, a Brigand's muscular arm was wrapped around her chest. She squirmed and attempted to break free, but his hairy arm only wrapped harder around her body, on which she wore the white robe of a holy woman.

Thinking that the Brigand would not notice his presence in the darkness, Kliff dodged the fireball and tried to close the gap between them, but the Brigand immediately sensed someone was in front of him, and raised a dagger to the girl's throat.

"Don't move, or the lady gets it!" The Brigand shouted. 

While Kliff usually knew the meaning of the word reckless, his next action could not be described as anything but. However, he could not think of any other option. Kliff put out his torch and threw it at the Brigand's arm wrapped around the girl.

The Brigand flinched, and Kliff did not let that opportunity go to waste, raising his sword up towards the Brigand's face. His grip on the girl loosened as he tried to dodge the attack. The girl ran away to hide in the darkness.

Kliff's sword cut the Brigand's nose, and fresh blood flew into the air, starting the fight between them. As he rolled across the stone beneath him, he felt a searing pain in his abdomen. With no time to confirm the severity of it, he kept his eyes facing straight ahead, and learned that the Brigand had lost his dagger.

That sight gave Kliff courage. He leaned over the Brigand from above, with his right hand on the hilt of his sword and his left hand on the back of the blade, aiming to cleanly slice off the Brigand's head in a single motion, and claim victory.

"Long live boss Grieth!" With his last words, the Brigand praised who Kliff assumed to be his leader, then blood gushed everywhere as his head dropped from his body. 

Kliff only remembered the greater than average pain in his side after feeling the relief that he won the battle. As the light from his torch flared back up again, he fell on his back next to the Brigand's corpse with a crash. The Brigand's lost dagger was still sticking out of his side.

The girl he had helped came into his field of vision. Through the pain, he could faintly make out her silhouette.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I am Sister Silque. Don't speak.” Silque was carefully assessing just how deep his wound was. "Bear with me."

Silque said with a pained look on her face, then pulled the dagger out without even a hint of hesitation. Kliff screamed within himself from the intense pain, but managed not to make a sound out loud. She slowed the flow of blood with her right hand, raised her left hand into the air, and recited a prayer.

"Grant this person the life energy that overflows from the heavens. In the name of Goddess Mila, fill the palm of my hand with the power to heal."

The prayer was that of the instantaneous healing spell Recover. A pain assailed Kliff’s body that was far greater than that caused by the removal of the knife. The heat caused by his white blood cells gathering from all over his body to heal the wound, combined with his damaged cells beginning to divide at an unnaturally accelerated rate, caused a pain greater than he ever imagined possible.

"Silque!" Kliff shouted only her name, then passed out.

-

Cleric was another classification of unit. They mostly managed not offense, but healing and defense. However, considering that they utilize those abilities on the battlefield, there was no debating that they were another type of fighter.

When Kliff woke up, there was no scar left on his side. While he was still in a bit of pain, once he stood up and relaxed his body, that too disappeared. He initially thought that he had been unconscious for a long time, but when he saw that the light illuminating Alm, Lukas, Gray, and Tobin surrounding him was that of the torch he had thrown, he realized that was not the case at all. Then, he also saw Silque among them.

Alm noticed that Kliff was awake and said, "That was amazing!"

"Way to go, playboy!" Gray followed up.

"It is the greatest honor to save a Cleric's life!" Tobin cheered.

It was hard to tell whether or not Silque was blushing in the current low lighting, but in spite of the smell from the blood spilling out of the Brigand's corpse, the air around them had relaxed.

However, only a moment later, Lukas, watching everyone's conversation from a distance, cut that return to calm short. "Alm, let's go. We have no time to waste."

Alm nodded and said, "Let's go, guys."

But Lukas once again objected to his friends joining them. "Only Alm will go with me. You three take the Cleric back to her priory, and return to Ram Village."

Aside from Silque, everyone vehemently objected.

"Why?! We just proved how strong we are to you!"

"I am confident now that it is our destiny to join The Deliverance."

"The moment we realize we are no longer of any use, we will take our own lives!"

"If my friends cannot go with me, then I will lead a liberation effort of my own." Even Alm joined in the various voices shouting at Lukas.

"We cannot afford to escort anyone who is not a unit any more than is necessary. Sooner or later, you will weigh us down."

"Then what about Silque? She's a unit!" Kliff asked.

"She was with a Brigand. We don't know if she is an enemy or an ally."

"You really think an enemy would heal Kliff?!" Gray asked as he grabbed a fistful of Lukas' shirt. 

Gray's strength forced Lukas to look up and lifted the heels of his combat boots into the air, but he did not panic at all, simply glaring back at the boy flush with anger.

As Gray deliberated whether he should punch Lukas or throw him and send him flying, Silque quickly stepped in.

"I thank you for everything you have done. This crack leads to the most remote of Mila's shrines in all of Zofia. I was here to protect it, but the thieves found me. …Sir Lukas, what if you asked Mila herself if they have the strength you seek? And you could also ask whether I am an enemy or not."

Mila shrines. The locations that guarded the secret ceremony of transcending units.

-

Lukas only partially believed that a normal villager could "transcend" to become a unit, but walked towards the opening in the rock anyway, and followed Silque to the priory. When they arrived, it was so impossibly magnificent that he forgot everything else and was completely blown away. He knew the priory built for the Knights of Zofia very well, but this place was so simple yet grand, that it could not compare to one so luxurious.

Within was a single statue of Mila herself, her wings folded close to her body. Ivy had wrapped around the entire statue, and the fountain spring sprouting up at her feet flowed into a stone basin only about the size of a bathtub. If one looked above, they would see a thin long hole drilled through the rocky mountain, from which the morning sunlight, finally rising into the sky, fell around Mila like snow, illuminating only the moss covered statue.

Silque washed her left hand, then her right hand in the spring, and called out Gray's name. He wished to become a Cavalier, and so he too washed his hands in the spring, then knelt before the statue looking down at him, just as Slique had instructed him to.

Silque spread open her robe like a bird would its wings, then looked up to the heavens and prayed, "This man is Gray from Ram Village. He does not know, at his current strength and will, if he will be able to complete the transcendence ceremony to obtain Mila and Duma's blessing, and become a Cavalier."

The bright light in the statue's eyes slowly narrowed down to a mere thread, enveloping Gray. It covered his body in several layers until he looked like he was inside a giant cocoon.

Lukas' eyes widened. That was unmistakably the proof that Gray was transcending. But he also knew that transcendence did not happen without the target suffering intense pain. That thought made him look away from what happened next.

Only a moment later, a scream echoed throughout the room, then blood flowed from beneath the cocoon of light. To summon his sacred horse, the Mila statue had torn out his Achilles heel.

The color drained from his friend's faces. His moans of pain did not stop, and sounded unlike any they had ever heard before. But in exchange, when the cocoon of light shattered, he reappeared with the body of a Cavalier, muscles swelled to several times their previous size. Tobin was in utter shock at the sight.

Tobin had his wish granted to become an Archer unit, and fight with bow and arrow. He writhed with the pain of rapid growth of the muscles in his dominant arm.

Kliff had his wish granted to become a mage unit, and fight mainly from afar by casting spells. His brain cells exploded in number, causing him to feel a hundred years worth of headaches all at once.

The three all transcended and became units one after the other. After individually looking over and inspecting their new bodies, they all hugged and cheered together.

They all looked like they were moved to their very souls, and before Lukas could say anything, they all took each other's hands and vowed in silence to liberate Zofia.

Silque washed her hands in the spring once again, for the fourth purification. "What unit do you wish to become, Alm?” She asked.

But Alm did not move.

He was not hesitating because of the pain he would be made to suffer to transcend, rather, he was unable to move because of the two eyes on him.

Though the Mila statue was not made with moving parts, its stone eyes turned anyway. And they did not stop when he entered its field of vision… They kept going until the statue was looking directly at Alm. 

Next, everyone present heard a voice that they at first thought was the rumblings of the mountains surrounding them.

But then, the voice spoke clearly to them.

"Though this man has not transcended, he already has a mark.

This means he is above and beyond transcendence."

There was no questioning it. The voice was that of the Mila statue - nay, Mila herself. The voice repeated those same words three times in total, then finally the bright light went out, and a sudden darkness engulfed the shrine, as if Mila was bowing before his feet.

The hole in the mountain had not been plugged up by anything to block the sunlight, rather, even the sun itself was hiding.

Next, something started to fall within the dark shrine. It was not a rain of light, but the rain this land had desperately needed for a long, long time. 

Was this rain a miracle Alm himself had caused? Or were they the heavens' tears of joy for having found Alm here, in this world? Everyone thought so for a brief moment. 

No, if these were the heavens' tears, then they must be tears of sadness. Because even though the shrine was now dark, in the little light that remained around the statue, they could all see that the moss covering the statue was being dyed black. The rain was black, and full of dirt.

The group was so taken aback by how mysterious the rain was that they were all completely taken aback, except for Silque, who fell to her knees and prayed fervently. Then, she wiped the dirty rain off her cheeks with her robe, stood up, and said, "The poisonous rain has finally arrived in Zofia. We must protect this land."

She paused to look intensely at Alm. "To serve you would be one of this world’s highest honors. I will dedicate my life to you."

As the rest of the group was expressing their happiness to add Sister Silque to their ranks, Kliff was looking anxiously at her expression. Then, his eyes looked down before finally biting down hard on his finger. This was a habit in Ram Village of those who were so lovesick, it was making them jealous.

[randomnameless]

Tbf to Jeralt, it's possible that his merc band could have gone through a dry spell where they couldn't find any decent-paying work and couldn't buy food, and maybe that's what Byleth was referring to; i also doubt he went to the feasts during those times and/or without making sure Byleth had enough food and water to last until he got home, if only because that'd be him being actively malicious towards them instead of just emotionally negligent like most of his actual mistakes as a parent.

Sorry for the late reply!

Well, it might have happened, someone replied under the post that Barney also mentions that "merc life" often involves not eating for a period of time, because that's how it goes, no cash, no food.

And yet, it circles back to the decision Jerry made - why accepting to be merc, if he had a kid to raise, if it could possibly mean the kid will starve?

I know they wanted to mirror uwu Ike'n'Greil - but as far as I remember the Greil Merc are never mentionned to have had food shortages or something?

Sure, Jerry was running away from the evil lizard lady (who never bothered to look for him btw), but FE16 comes after FE15, and in Echoes, Mycen too, is hiding from a (real this time!) death cult full of blue people, but Mycen ends up living in a village with Alm, instead of travelling the world and letting the kid be hungry.

I hope so anon! And yet, there's still something that strikes me as wrong, with Billy telling Barney they are used not to eat when food is scarce/there is no food, and the very same Billy being excluded from celebratory feasts while Jerry goes... If you knew someone used to be hungry - especially your own kid - wouldn't you want them to participate in a feast?

But then we'd talk about why Jerry didn't invite Billy or Barney to the feast while he went there alone so...

maybe lil'Eisner bastards will pop up in 9 months?

[fayesdiary]

oh you found a really good FE ask list, but since it would be a bit crazy to ask for every question let's go with...13, 24, 25, 31, and 37

Thanks Lore, made it myself😂

13) What do you like most about Fire Emblem?

Oh, that's... suprisingly hard to say because Fire Emblem's one of those series who's more than the sum of its parts.

But then again, I think I'd say the fandom. Or at least the niche circle I found here on Tumblr.

I found a lot of new friends here and really helped me open up at least in this space online wish i'd work irl too, but most of all... this series really opened my creativity in a way that no other piece of media ever did. Something about it feels... really approachable from a transformative standpoint.

Thanks to it I opened this blog, which led me to make lots of new friends (love you Lore btw <3), made some essays and thought pieces and most of all, I wrote fanfiction and art! Two things I always thought I was too talentless to make! And no matter what, Ill always be grateful to this franchise for me, despite how much the mainstream fandom sucks ass. Fuck 'em anyway, ignored them ever since before 3H release.

Speaking of this franchise inspiring creatvity, I always admired from afar the lovely folks at Feuniverse. The amount of hacks and fangames is astounding and I can't believe how many people made straight up fully fledged games from hacks! Maybe one day I will join her if I ever feel motivated enough. Maybe. I want to play more hacks at the very least, especially because FEE3 is one of my favorite fan events.

24) An FE title you wish would be remade?

Geneaology would be the obvious answer and don't get me wrong, I absolutely do want to see it remade and believe it inevitably will one day...

But if I have to be honest I want a rerelease of the Tellius games first because they're the hardest to play even through... illegitimate means if you're say, like me and only have an old laptop to emulate them with. Whether they'd be remakes or simple remasters, I don't really care as long as they play as they should.

25) Any general or specific headcanons you have?

Dragons have a lifespan of 100 times that of the humans.

It's never stated how much longer dragons live compared to humans, but given that Tiki is 1000 years old as a child and 3000 as an adult, i find the 100x multiplier fits really well and helps keep track of dragons' age more clearly, even if Fòdlan and Elyos dragons do seem to live longer than even that.

So by that logic in dragon years, Tiki is 10 in Shadow Dragon and in her thirties in Awakening, Nowi is 12 and Myrrh is 14.

Doesn't completely fit, but it sure helps visualize things more clearly.

31) Some moments of Fire Emblem you keep thinking of?

Speaking of the new things, um, the Twisted Joke, Engage ch11 and 17, most of the Engage endgame really. And Slayde bravely taking on a bunch of children in the Echoes prologue traumatizing the shit out of them and still getting his ass kicked (by Mycen, but still)

37) What's a weird theory or headcanon you have?

Rhea copes with her daily life through recreational drug use given that quest where she gives weed herbs to distressed students

[theofficersacademy]

                                 Elincia Sephiran Alm Edward

                  F!Byleth Grima Rafal Mae Matthew

WEEK 2: in places deep, where dark things sleep

TAG: #SVRigel2023

The letter isn't marked with the king's seal, but the sight of a pegasus rider carrying it south to Chancellor Mycen should bring some relief to you all. Some of you set out for Fear Mountain, following well-trodden paths from your memories... but it's not long until you are ambushed and overwhelmed by witches and the cantors that control them. There is no escape from Valentian spells and Valentian cells.

With the departure of some of your comrades, this little village quiets down again, enough for you to truly grasp just how... small this place it. Many of the priestesses came from neighboring towns to assist with you all. As they leave, they expose the dearth of young adults in the village, fighting-age men and women. Some fled for Zofia at the war's end, hoping to start new lives in more fertile land. Most left long ago to fight for the war, only to never return. The faces of those who have should have been a blessing, but to see their visages twisted by fell magic is nothing more than a curse...

THINGS TO KNOW:

Edward, Sephiran, Grima, and Matthew have all decided to stay at Sheepshead Crossing. Many villagers despair at the loss of the group hotties, believing they've missed their only chance at love. The young priestess girls move on quickly to Edward, following him around like puppy dogs, and who is really more down-to-earth than Alm and Rafal anyways. Annika instead seems interested in Sephiran and Grima. She needs a little help with something... As a recap, witches have been sighted near the village performing erratic behaviors and coveting strange red stones.

Alm, Rafal, Elincia, Mae, and F!Byleth have all gone out to investigate Fear Mountain, where witches seem to be gathering. While Alm's directions are impeccable, they failed to account for everything that's changed since his last visit to this part of Rigel. Namely, that there would be cantors waiting in the bushes to ambush a group of perceived ladies (and Alm). All of you are captured and dragged the rest of the way to Fear Mountain. As a part of getting captured, Elincia and Rafal have lost their weapons and material possessions, replaced with a Training Sword and Training Axe respectively. F!Byleth and Mae manage to conceal their weapons, but any shields and rings get plucked from their hands. Alm's Falchion once again draws attention, but this time it is forcibly taken away along with Luna. He gets shoved into a cell with the rest of his friends, without a weapon.

WHAT TO DO

STORY: While the witches are acknowledged, suffering a disease that cannot be cured, very few villagers can stand to look at their former friends and family in the eye and cut them down. This conflict has allowed Margret to keep her life, as miserable as it is now. You occasionally see her sneaking out of her house at night, wandering the town square. The older girls rat out Annika for wandering in the woods on her own. She insists that she hasn't done anything wrong.

COMBAT: Let me know when you are all ready to start the combat segment. I do recommend that you talk to your new cellmate beforehand, though, as he's the only one that does not want to kill you.

Ping Mod Bren for additional questions and information.

[good-beans]

So uhhhhhhhh @fayesdiary I’m sorry if I keep latching onto this au asdfhasdjh but I literally spent all day thinking about how everyone could have had a much happier ending while still going through and growth and development and Rinea deserved to be a warrior who got her happy ending and Alm deserved his true family and Berkut deserved a happy childhood and ANYWAY I finally finished my oneshot about the Deliverance meeting general Rinea for the first time so yeah :)

The field looked as average as they come: some grass, scattered trees, and the like. As the Deliverance stepped out onto it, they spotted a familiar army on the opposing side. They were imposing, sure, but nothing new to Berkut after their previous fights. He and his comrades were in average shape that day. The weather was tepid. The battle would not have been memorable, Berkut thought, were it not for the Rigelian’s leader at the head of the group. 

The rumors of General Rinea did not do the woman justice. 

Even without her intimidating getup, her posture alone radiated authority and confidence. Despite her young age, she held herself with pride -- perhaps something a little stronger than pride -- and looked down on everything from her horse. Her sapphire armor glinted in the sun. Her hair shone with a paler shade of blue as it flew free in the breeze behind her. A headpiece kept it out of her face, decorated with flowers, vines, and thorns that appeared like a devil’s horns atop her head. A tome glowed in her gloved hand. 

Rinea had been pacing the front lines, looking more collected than most war generals. Berkut glanced at his brother. Sure enough, Alm’s expression was the furthest thing from calm. The young leader surveyed their opponents with nervous eyes. Catching him looking, Alm gave Berkut a confident nod. 

Upon their arrival, Rinea rode out a ways to meet them.

“As I live and breathe…” she mused. “The Deliverance! Well, this is simply delightful.”

For the briefest moment, Berkut was taken aback. The young woman’s voice was oddly sweet in contrast with the rest of her presence. Seeing her up close, he was struck with the realization that she was quite beautiful. The harshness of Rigel had not hardened her like many others. Unlike the cold soldiers she led, Rinea seemed bright, full of life, full of fire. Her looks certainly would have turned heads were she only a pretty lady of the court; but now, strength and leadership simply added to her beauty. 

The young knight quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind. He scolded himself for the foolishness of it. A member of the Deliverance would be wasting his time thinking such things about a deadly enemy… 

“Lady Rinea,” Alm called, his expression grim.

Clive spoke up from behind them, “why have you come here? Your main force has retreated.”

Rinea outstretched a hand in their direction, a smug smile creeping onto her face. She was not attacking, merely addressing him. Regardless, Berkut moved protectively to Alm’s side. 

“I long for sport, you see. I wish to test your might!” She saw the young man move, and she tilted her head. “Ah yes, you must be the troublesome brothers I’ve heard so much about. Sir Mycen’s heirs from the village, as word has it? My, I cannot believe Desaix lost the castle to the likes of you.”

Berkut’s knuckles whitened on his lance as she spoke. All the Rigelians they’d faced were the same, it seemed. He was growing sick of that same look of disgust towards them. After all the Deliverance had sacrificed and worked for, it made his blood boil. 

Alm opened his mouth to speak, but Berkut couldn’t help blurting, “You hold your tongue! You shall not speak of Alm in such a way. Our leader is far more skilled, strong, and noble than your silly emperor can ever dream to be!” The boy knew he was in no place to make such claims about the infamously powerful emperor, but he couldn’t deny the sense of satisfaction at slinging such wild insults. “I do not care for your Rigelian beliefs that we are inferior because of where we hail from.”

The general's icy gaze fell upon him. “I believe no such thing, therefore it shall be you who holds his tongue. I know you have worked harder than anyone to reach here. I must say, I was most impressed by the battle at Zofia Castle.” Her face darkened. “Regardless of your skills, however, Desaix should not have fallen at your hands. I should like to see your strength for myself.”

Alm raised his sword in reply. “Then I suppose we have no choice.” 

The woman’s eyes widened. Although she was quick to cover it, Berkut caught the flash of fear in her expression. “That mark on your left hand… Where did that come from?”

The boy glanced down in confusion. Berkut could feel his stomach sink. No matter how hard he tried to escape the terrible truth, his brother’s past continued to haunt him wherever he went. 

Alm shook his head. “What do you care?! Are you here to fight or not?”

  “No… It cannot be the Brand.” the general said to herself, just barely audible from where Berkut stood. She then raised her voice. “I have worked far too hard for you to take everything from me!” 

With that, she ordered her men to charge.

----------

Berkut watched as Mathilda attacked, the woman’s quick blow knocking Rinea off her horse. The cavalier continued forward; if she remained any longer she’d risk the general’s vengeful magic. 

Rinea pulled herself to her feet, whirling her head around to where Mathilda had gone. She wiped blood from her face. Her rage turned to amusement, however, when she spotted Tobin nearby. The boy was fumbling with an injury to his arm. Her arms crackled with magic as she came closer. 

Berkut tore across the field, planting himself between them. “You shall have to go through me first!” 

Rinea smirked. “You truly think your power can measure up to mine?”

“I have heard much about you,” he replied, “but after you hid away at Zofia Castle, I no longer fear you the same.”

She tipped her head back, giving an unsettlingly sweet laugh. “I have no need to bear these accusations of cowardice. Let us fight and put this to rest, Deliverance scum.”

He lifted his lance, setting his jaw. “My name is Berkut.”

���Well, then, Berkut,” she spread her hands, now alight with fire. “Shall we dance?”

[seasaltmemories]

Regret

Rating: T

Summary: When the nurse finished her tale, Celica promised herself that she would never become such a pitiable woman. [Arranged Marriage AU] [Trigger Warnings]

~

The first time Anthiese remembered meeting her father was when she was eleven.

A year after the villa was attacked, Sir Mycen sent a letter to Novis declaring all of Desaix collaborators jailed or executed. Since heirs were now in a sudden short supply, her father had decided it best for her to join him at Zofia Castle.

She had only started to allow herself to view the priory as a home the prior month; nevertheless, Anthiese followed the dark-hair mercenary back to the capital without complaint. With both a decade and the fire under her belt now, she didn’t feel like a child anymore. And because eleven was the oldest she had ever been, she thought that meant she must be ready to be an adult now.

For all her poise, though, it didn’t make that first night in one of the castle’s guest-rooms any easier. It was furnished with the same silks and mahoganies of the royal villa, and no matter how much she tried to reason with herself that such similarities were only natural, she still found herself dreaming that she was choking on ash. That morning she woke up convinced she was buried in the villa’s rubble and scrubbed her cheeks near raw.

Her nurse had scolded her once the episode passed and spent the rest of the morning brushing powder on her face. If she couldn’t act like an adult, then maybe she could at least try to present herself like one.

She hated the process, feeling like a porcelain doll being painted and brushed to perfection. But if someone ever took the time to ask her what she wanted, she didn’t know if she would have protested in the slightest. She suspected she wouldn’t have been able to explain at all what she expected from this journey. It was only the distance that memory provided that allowed her to give words to such a childish desire. That if she bore all her pain with grace and determination, somehow, someway she’d be rewarded.

And so, Earth Mother, she tried. She tried to hold her head high and approach the throne as if it was where she belonged.

The man who sat before had hair as red as hers. It shouldn’t have been all surprisingly, but Anthiese found herself clinging to detail all the same. She liked to think she had never needed him before in her life, but it was thrilling to imagine he might need her in return. So she went through whole ritual of curtsying and giving her most genuine respect.

When she lifted her head again, she found her father looking at her as if he was meeting a god. Trembling, he extended a swollen red hand.

“Liprica?” It was barely a murmur, but the stink of his wine-soaked breath still overwhelmed her. When he moved to cradle a curl of hers, she couldn’t help but recoil.

His eyes widened, as if coming out from a waking dream, and somehow she knew in that instant that he’d never look at her with that same reverence ever again.

It didn’t take long for him to dismiss Anthiese back to her chambers. Once there, the cool mask of maturity she had been weaving since she had received the missive fell apart. She found herself bawling like a newborn, kicking and screaming at any of the maids that tried to restrain her.

Then, like a flash of lightning, her nurse struck her across the cheek. The fear and pain that followed was so overwhelming, Anthiese went silent almost immediately.

“How dare you behave in such a selfish manner! What kind of daughter refuses her own father’s affections?!”

Something deep inside of her started to catalyze. She didn’t quite know what she was becoming, but she had the feeling she wasn’t quite Anthiese anymore.

“Who is Liprica?” It felt dangerous to ask, but the question fell from her lips before she could take it back.

The nurse furrowed her brow in pity. Surprisingly, she picked up the child and gathered her in her lap. In the last show of tenderness she could remember, the nurse recounted the story of the only woman the king had ever loved.

When she finished her tale, Celica promised herself that she would never become such a pitiable woman.

~

When Celica awoke in Mila’s cell, she felt that same sense of transformation pull at her limbs. While her memory and vision came back to her slowly but surely, some third, indescribable part of her seemed to leak out onto the ground. Like a cocoon cracked open before it could hatch into a butterfly, if she was supposed to become someone else again, she had no clue anymore on how to get there.

She liked to think it was courage or bravery that compelled her to stand, but that felt too optimistic a conjecture to make. Picking up Falchion and climbing past the torn cell bars seemed more muscle memory than anything deliberate. She didn’t know what could possibly be fueling her at this point. With each breath she swallowed, she tasted the ash that still lingered in the air.

Earth Mother...

She didn’t know if it was a prayer or a curse. As much as Celica rather forget it, the memory of Mila’s grasp had been burned into her memory. No matter how many times she went back to try and construct a different version of events, Mila’s claws seemed to tear into her mind each time.

You didn’t take imprisonment gracefully either...

Celica’s mind drifted back towards the Rigelian maid she burned. She must have seemed just as monstrous and terrifying as Mila in that moment. Guilt swirled inside Celica’s stomach like a storm, but she tried to channel it into something positive. If there was hope for her, then perhaps Mila might calm with time.

Are you sure you’re so above reproach?

Celica bit her lip and pressed forward into the darkness of the tunnels. Perhaps this whole underground was her cocoon. She wouldn’t be able to see what she’d become until she left.

~

It was dawn when Alm reemerged from his grief. Not because the pain had subsided or because he had somehow overcome it, but rather because he was simple too exhausted to sob any longer. All his pity and empathy had been wrung out of him like washing rag.

From the distance, he saw Berkut lead a squadron of soldiers up towards the bastion. And despite how he knew Father meant to Berkut, meant to everyone, a strange possessiveness overtook him. He found himself moving towards the top end of the ramparts, blocking any view of Father’s body.

“Alm--” Berkut struggled to catch his breath, eyes wild and unfocused. “--there you are! Do you have any idea what’s been--”

“I know!” Despite himself, Alm’s voice came out harsher than he wanted. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’ve just--”

As Alm struggled to find some words that might capture the last few hours, Berkut pushed past him. Alm couldn’t stop him before he managed to catch sight of the ugly scene.

“Uncle...” Those two syllables managed to break Alm’s heart all over again. There was a weakness to Berkut’s voice he hadn’t heard since the two of them were children. Alm leaned forward to comfort him; however before he could complete his embrace, Berkut gripped his forearms in a tight squeeze.

“Who did this!?” Berkut hissed.

Mila’s shadow hung heavy over the two men. This was a conversation that they had sworn to keep behind closed doors, but what were they supposed to do once everything had been blown open?

“It was her, wasn’t it? Never should have let her out of our sight!”

“What do you want me to do?!” Alm could feel what little control he had mustered start to fray. “He’s gone now! Nothing can change that! Not even a brand!”

Alm wondered what this must look to the outside world: Rigel’s two fine princes yelling like madman. All of Father’s hard work to crafting the perfect golden hero vanquished before he even had a grave to roll around in.

From that thought, the sorrow returned, stronger than ever before. However before the tears could return, Berkut dug his nails into his skin.

“Don’t you dare.” There was a dangerous calmness to his voice. “You don’t have the luxury of grief anymore. You have to be able to do what’s necessary for the country.”

He turned around to face the squadron. “Everyone kneel! You have the honor to bask in the presence of our sovereign emperor!” Berkut fell to his knees in front of Alm, and like dominoes, each following soldier did the same.

“All hail Albine Alm Rudolf II, may his reign be righteous and just!” The cry went out like a chorus, ringing across the ramparts. With each round, another further group repeated it, until the entire castle was shouting as one voice.

It took all of Alm’s willpower not to vomit.

When Berkut rose again, he was quick to issue orders about funeral and burial preparations. As the squadron dispersed Alm wanted nothing more than to fade into the wind--to let the one who truly wanted this responsibility take it. But before he could voice any of those thoughts, Berkut caught him off-guard with one final question.

“Do you have any idea if your wedding gift is still secure?”

Alm was puzzled for a moment. Wedding gift had been their code for Mila since his marriage was arranged. How could he go from recognizing her involvement to asking about her imprisonment?

Suddenly everything came together with terrifying clarity.

Where in the world was Anthiese?

~

Celica had trouble discerning how long she had been in the underground tunnels. There was no natural lighting to indicate if it was night or day. No people going about their daily routine. For all she knew she could have been unconscious for centuries, and spend another few running around in circles. The only way to prove herself wrong, would be if she kept pressing forward regardless.

On one hand the solitude was, all things considered, welcomed--she still felt too fuzzy to attempt any stealth maneuvers. On the other hand though, the further she ventured, the further she felt unmoored from the rest of the world. When she first descended down here, she had mostly followed the pain in her brand. Without its guide, she had no idea where to go.

After what felt like ages wandering in the darkness, Celica found a green feather lying at a crossroads. Immediately she ran up to it, as if it were a talisman that might save her soul. And while even under closer scrutiny, she couldn’t discern anything further about the feather, she noticed a fresh set of claw marks on the rightmost wall. Whether intentional or not, the Earth Mother had not completely abandoned her. And so despite all odds, Celica allowed herself to believe in the hope that she would not stay lost forever, that if she was meant to die, it wasn’t here.

For a moment, it seemed as if her hopes weren’t for nothing. In time her makeshift trail of plumage and scratches brought her to an room so warmly lit, it almost blinded her. Something about that orange glow tugged at Celica’s heart strings. The relief was so great, she almost believed she might be able to truly love Rigel. That she’d never need anything ever again, and she’d be good and obedient if it meant staving off the dread that seemed poised to swallow her whole. She couldn’t help but run to the light without looking back.

However as her vision adjusted, any comfort she had managed to dream up, evaporated in an instant.

From the slick marble tile and high-vaulted ceilings, she could tell that this once was a place of grand splendor. There was a strange nostalgia to the splintered benches and crumbling columns, but she found her gaze being drawn mostly to the broken slab at the far end of the hall. It was hard to say, but perhaps if she put all her attention to reconstructing what it could have been, then maybe the stench of death and decay would fade away. Things would go back to the way they were supposed to be, and she wouldn’t have to live in this nightmare anymore.

Celica didn’t realize she had continued wandering forward until she tripped and found herself on the cool floor. Blankly, she checked to see what had made her fall. She expected to find a loose stone or cracked board, but instead a limp, bruised arm laid sprawled across the path. When it twitched, she could help but shriek.

However rather than reach out and grab her, the arm did nothing but spasm weakly. Instead the true source of life came from the groan that echoed across the room. She followed the arm to find the source to be Jedah of all people, crushed under a pile of rubble.

“Anthiese...is that really you?” His words were slurred and difficult to make out. The only sign of life on his blood-crusted face was the slight tremor of his lip as he spoke.

Celica shivered. His choked voice made her blood run so cold, her tongue felt frozen in place. She tried her best to get away from the horrid sound, but in the process of trying to push herself up, Falchion clattered against the floor with a piercing ring.

“That sword!” He gasped. Quickly Celica picked it back up, a new possessiveness overwhelming her, but he seemed content to simply follow the light that bounced off the blade. “...that’s why he forsook us. You used our own tools to conquer us.”

“My intention has never been to conquer Rigel.” Celica spat.

“Look around you. Duma’s Faithful have been on death row for the longest time. This is just the noose finally tightening around our neck. Now your goddess can reign completely.”

Again Celica remembered the sensation of Mila’s claws on her chin. She wondered if she looked closely, how many other corpses she might find. She wondered if their bodies would carry the same wounds as her.

“Perhaps this is Duma’s last lesson...” Jedah mused. “In my arrogance, I thought I had tamed you thoroughly enough. Let that boy influence me too much. Now you shall be our undoing.”

Celica’s skin crawled. As much as her hatred for him hadn’t diminished in the slightest, she did not want to watch him die. Even as she tried to look away, she couldn’t stop from noticing all the blood stains that lined the walls. Just how many other corpses were hiding among this room? How much blood would stain her hands before Mila’s rampage ended?

“I didn’t want this.” Celica whispered--as if any of that mattered at this point.

When what remained of Jedah’s life began to fade away--she found herself closing her eyes and raising her face towards heaven. If it was a prayer, then she only prayed her drumming heartbeat would drown out his dying gasps.

When she heard a group of soldier shout for her arrest, she didn’t resist.

~

News of Anthiese didn’t get to him until late that night. After Berkut found him, he passed Alm off to Massena for a more formal coronation. Even if Rigel Castle hadn’t been in such a dismal state, succession had become a fraught topic since Father ascended to the throne. Up until now, every heir had been required to be blessed by the Duma Faithful before they could rule. In theory such a thing shouldn’t be necessary now that the Emperor also doubled as head of the Church, but wars had been fought over more insignificant details in the past. As a result, Alm spent most of his day signing documents and sending letters, certain Jedah would interrupt him at any moment. When sunset came and there was still no attempt of a coup, Massena finally bestowed Alm his crown and declared him emperor.

The only witnesses were General Zeke and his wife.

Alm was escorted back to his old chambers afterwards. In theory, they’d have a more public ceremony tomorrow, so it be better if he looked like he had at least gotten an hour or two of sleep. Still even his study had not escaped the day untouched. A pile of notes the height of his forearm laid on top his desk, all addressed to Emperor Albein Alm Rudolf II.

Despite the hour, he still felt the vast emptiness from the morning, somehow too exhausted for sleep. So he tried to do what he thought a chosen hero should do. He lit a candle and went to work.

Anthiese’ report was nestled in between a record of civilian deaths and an estimate charge for castle repairs. He’d be lying if he acted as if he hadn’t be thinking of her all day, but he forced himself to read the paper at the same detached pace as every other piece.

It claimed that the lost princess had been found in Duma Temple, next to Father Jedah’s wasting body. Considering the number of Duma Faithful found dead, she was currently being imprisoned on charges for mass murder. However most of the corpses had been found under rubble and other debris; the report argued it was unlikely she had been the only one responsible. The only piece of evidence she could have been involved was the sword she had been found with.

Alm read the last sentence over. Then he read it again and again, until the words started to blur before his eyes. He pushed the document away and took a deep breath. He tried to hope against hope.

He pulled out the charges for repairs. He read the first line of figures. Then he crumpled it into a ball and headed for the dungeons.

On his journey downwards, Alm couldn’t help but be reminded of the first time he made this trip. If he had reported first to Father as expected, would he still be here today? As illogical as it sounded, he couldn’t stop from trying to pinpoint everything went wrong, when Father’s demise had been locked in place.

“Promise me you won’t let her lead you astray.”

That had been some of his last words. And yet despite everything, when Alm thought of Anthiese, he still imagined her flushed face and the sensation of her lips against his eyelids. He didn’t want to open his eyes, see what she must really think of him when not performing for his pleasure.

This time there was no forcing his way in. The minute the guard saw him, she immediately stepped aside and gave a deep bow. “Is this going to be a private interrogation?” She asked while handing him the keys. And maybe this was another mistake, another point of no return he was damning himself to, but he wanted the two of them to be honest for once, about Mila and everything in between.

“Yes,” He answered. And by the time the door slammed shut, she had all but disappeared down the hall.

A long time ago, Father had told him that the worst thing an Emperor could do, was appear anxious. Any physical tics or irregular breathing could turn into a terrible tell for enemies to exploit. Therefore, Alm took his time facing Anthiese, slowly inhaling and exhaling until the rise in his chest was barely noticeable.

When he finally looked up he found her curled up on the floor wearing a torn set of his shirt and trousers. Shackles chained her to the wall, only allowing a short range of movement, yet even that amount of freedom made him uneasy. He struggled to predict what might occur if she got her hands on him.

“Wake up,” Alm ordered.

He struggled to trust what might occur if he got his hands on her.

The only sign of life she showed was the singular cold eye that peeked out behind her curtain of hair. She looked less like the alluring temptress from the night before and more like a stray hound.

“Most of the time, the high judge is the one to lay out the case, but just this once, I’m going to give you the chance to explain yourself.” He tried to speak with Father’s commanding presence.

Anthiese tilted her head to the side. For a moment she just stared. Then a sickening giggle began to scratch its way out of her throat.

“How nice. Do I get to choose the method of execution as well?”

Alm’s eyes narrowed. “I’d stop the jokes if I were you. The high judge lost his wife this morning. He’s not likely to have much sympathy for you.”

Anthiese stopped giggling. “Do you have sympathy for me?”

His brand ached at her words, as if it was just now being etched into his skin. He wondered if perhaps it was something like an infected wound, slowly spreading to the rest of him.

“Don’t mock my mercy,” He took a step forward, ignoring the pain. “Do you even realize what you’ve done? What wielding that blade means?”

“I’m not an idiot.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I know you already know about the temple and how much blood they say is on my hands. What’s the use in asking for my story?”

“A man is supposed to think the best of his wife.” His words caught on something sharp inside of himself. “An orphaned king must be the loneliest creature in the world. If possible, I don’t want to lose you too.”

“That’s your problem,” Anthiese snapped. “You’ve forgotten Jedah’s warnings. How could a Zofian woman be anything but duplicitous and selfish? It doesn’t matter if you pamper her with flowers, you can’t change nature.” She leaned forward and bared her teeth. “You should have locked me up our wedding night.”

Alm could feel his blood hum through his body. It felt like an entire colony wasps was needling at his skin, wanting to burst clean from his body and swarm. Images of a manor in the woods he did not want to think about flooded his mind.

“Tell me you didn’t know you were doing.” He begged. For a moment he believed that was all they needed to return to the magic of their night together.

Anthiese pushed herself up so that they were eye level. “I rather watch the continent burn than become anything resembling my mother.”

He wished he could say he was blinded with rage. He wished his body had acted as a separate creature from him. but if anything, he felt more like himself than he had all day when he slammed his fist into her cheek.

Anthiese hit the floor hard, her chin catching on a loose stone. A slow stream of blood started to dribble down her neck as Alm gasped for breath. Carefully, she picked herself up, cradling her cheek.

“Thank you, Emperor Albein--” Her voice was cold and distant. “--for finally showing me your gentle, tender care.” The giggle returned louder than ever.

But despite all her best efforts, she could stop the tears that were streaming down her face.

A.N. Well, man was last chapter a bad cliffhanger to end on.  I'm real sorry for the whole two year hiatus, definitely had a lot of personal projects to focus on.  Good news though, this is now the WIP at the top of my "to finish" list.  At the very least, I finally feel as confident as I'll ever be with this chapter, while there are still plenty of questions to answer, I thought it important to really get this personal reactions from the two of them, I wanted to show how grief and trauma can really consume ppl in the worst ways, how it can be defined by painful absences as much as vivid hauntings.

[kat2107]

hi if you ever feel like sharing the why andy is not scythian post i'm curious and would love to learn about it!

Andromache the Not-really-Scythian

 It 1:30 am. Why am I doing this? What is my life?

Hi Nonnie, 

I apologize for the nerdiness, but Greg Rucka likely created this character after a drug-fueled round of the Wikipedia game and accidentally touched on a few areas in which I am semi-knowledgeable in, on the basis of having studied pre- and early European archeology. And then Netflix tried to be clever and implied bullshit. *sigh*

So, a few facts and a small rant. Also, travel tips and “But if she isn’t Scythian, what is she?”

Some facts:

- Scythians is a name the Greeks gave a couple of horse-mounted nomadic tribes that roamed the Eurasian steppes north of the black sea. 

- the earliest appearance of these tribes is around 1000BC - ish. The actual Scythians appeared 800BC. They had pretty peculiar three-sided arrowheads. Very recognizable. 

- there also are several graves of genetically female, ax-bearing persons that belong into the Sarmatian-Scythian cultural circle in Azerbaijan, but that’s probably left to someone who is more knowledgeable in eastern European archeology than I am. (We are still moving in the time around 800BC though. Waaaay too young.) 

- Andromache is a Greek name from the Iliad. (Homer is said to have been alive around 800BC - fun fact) 

- It means “she who fights like a man” (another fun fact)

A rant: 

Since Netflix brought that up: Her labrys. 

Labrys is a double-sided ax. The word is likely Minoan and probably means ax. We don’t know for sure, because: The Minoan culture dominated the Aegaeis for more than 1500 years (3000 BC until the Island of Thera blew up in a volcanic eruption and in one fell swoop decimated the Minoan fleet and coastal cities. This gave Mycenae (today. Greece-ish)) the opportunity to conquer them) They left plenty of script (Linear A) ... we just can’t read it. Thanks, Mycene. 

But, out of the context that is the Minoan culture, we assume Labrys means ax and labyrinth means something like house of the ax. So much for the almost four-thousand-year-old drama and how the first major European civilization went down. 

BUT, the labrys in the Minoan culture was not. a. weapon. (FFS NETFLIX!)

There is a theory that it symbolizes the horns of an ox, another very common religious symbol in Minoan culture (think Minotaurus and the labyrinth) and that every priestess had a labrys, to symbolize her grasp over this (male) power. Oh yeah, Minoan culture was female-dominated (at least religiously). Read up on it. It’s amazing. This is the really, very simplified version. 

(Also, please visit Crete, Knossos and the archeological museum in Heraklion. It’s stunning. I bawled like Nicky in front of the Holy Selpuchre.)

“But if she isn’t Scythian, what is she?”

All of the above is at least 1500 - 3000 years too young. When Andy died in the early 5th Millenium BC, Bronze hadn’t even been invented yet. 

If we assume that she is truthful about her local heritage (Scythian) then she would’ve been part of one of the Kurgan cultures (Kurgan is a burial mound) that predated Yamnaya culture in the Pontic Steppes north of the Black Sea-ish 8It’s a big area and they were nomads). 

Andy, in the Netflix timeline, is said to have left her people around 3300 BC. Yamnaya culture existed from about 3300BC - 2000 BC and was, like the Scythians a nomadic pastoralist culture. They are said (nothing’s ever really proven or known in archeology) to have spread both horse breeding and the original Indo-European language (and a good chunk of its people) westward to Europe and eastwards into the Altai region. 

Genetic analyses have shown that corded ware people that dominated middle Europe on the cusp of the Bronze age from 2900 BC onward had about 75% Yamnaya DNA. (Another fun fact, a northern variant of that culture is called boat ax culture, for their double-sided stone axes)

TL;DR: What even is history. Just make stuff up. Nobody knows anyways, but if Andy were real, her leaving her people might just have founded the Indo-European language group and brought the world horsemanship. But she is not Scythian and her original name is not Andromache. She probably just scared the ever-living shit out of the Greeks and they made something up. 

PS: I am scared that somehow this still all mostly fits. Greg Rucka is scary.

[iturbide]

How about the Lobster Conqueror himself?

ah so it has come to this

How do I feel about this character?

This man needs to be fired.

No, really.  He’s a terrible Emperor and a shitty father figure, to boot: while it’s certainly admirable that he tried to protect his son, orchestrating his own murder at said son’s hands is horrific and only serves to traumatize Alm so that Rudolf can get out without facing any kind of repercussions.  He does nothing at all to support the nephew that comes into his care, and through his inaction is ultimately somewhat responsible for Berkut’s catastrophic breakdown and eventual death.  And as if it weren’t bad enough that he’s being cruel and manipulative toward the people closest to him, he basically has no reason to do any of this.  He has a Brand and the power to wield Falchion himself, and by Duma’s request is the one who seals Mila -- something that supposedly only the “prophecied” Brand-bearers could do.  Heck, the whole prophecy itself kind of comes off seeming fake given that Duma’s Brandbearer ends up sealing both Mila and Duma; if Celica’s Brand were really necessary, shouldn’t she have been the only one capable of sealing either Mila (if the same Brand was needed for the sealing) or Duma (if the opposite one was)? 

Basically he put all his faith in some outlandish fairytale so that he conveniently doesn’t have to take responsibility for anything he does.  He’s a terrible father, a terrible leader, and a terrible person who should be fired and exiled.

Who do I ship this character with romantically?

He does not deserve romance.  Honestly I can’t see him treating any romantic partner well, given how he is with everyone else around him, and I have no intention of making even a random woman suffer with him as a spouse.

Who is my brOTP for this character?

Wait, he has friends?

I guess there’s Mycen.  The two old men are made for each other: both are in on this whole stupid plot and both work together to not only traumatize Alm by tricking him into murdering his dad, but then force him to bury the trauma by telling him that there’s “no time for self-pity” when Alm has a very reasonable complaint against them.  So yeah, I guess they’re the perfect duo.

What’s my Unpopular Opinion™ about this character?

Apparently he’s commonly seen as some kind of great self-sacrificing genius for setting this whole thing in motion and ensuring that the age of the gods in Valentia came to a close, even if it meant his death.

And I think that’s garbage.

This man put all his stock in a prophecy and interpreted every sign as a fulfillment of it.  He ensured his son would be safe, and then started a war that tore the continent apart, murdered a Divine Dragon who -- by the same prophecy he was trying to follow -- should have only been quelled by either his son or the Zofian Brandbearer, ruined countless lives both in his own nation and in Zofia, forced his son to murder him, and only revealed why as he was dying.  He didn’t prepare Alm for any of this, and honestly he had no reason to traumatize his son with the whole patricide thing since he logically could have stepped down rather than force regicide into the equation.  And all this rather than just look at the situation, realize that sealing Mila with Falchion meant he had the power to enact change himself, and take Duma out without involving literal children.  Even if taking Duma down was the last thing he did, at least he would be leaving the world in the hands of those who had known life outside the stagnant orders of Rigelian and Zofian nobility and politics, who could breathe fresh life into the systems once they took charge.  Foisting responsibility for this cataclysmic struggle onto children without giving them any kind of advance warning is utterly disgusting and speaks volumes about how much forethought and care he put into this plan in truth...which was none.

What’s one thing I wish would have happened with this character in canon?

How about being a decent human being.

I really think it would have done worlds of good for his character if he had actually shown some concern for the people around him and his own son, since he supposedly cared about him enough to get him away from the Duma cultists (but not enough that he wouldn’t trick the kid into committing patricide).  If he cared at all about his country, he shouldn’t have launched them into war just because of some half-baked prophecy.  If he cared so much about Berkut, he should have shown it by encouraging him, or at least not berating him in such a way that he felt his effective life was going to be over.  If he cared so much about Alm, he should have abdicated rather than force a son to kill his father, leaving all the responsibilities for the nation on his shoulders with no preparation.  He would probably never be perfect, but at least he’d be a little less contemptible.

Give Me a Character  

[merryfortune]

Orange You Happy to See Me?

Written for 100ships on Dreamwidth

Prompt: #27 Orange

Ship: Alm/Faye

Fandom: Fire Emblem Shadows of Valentia

Word Count: 1,426

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, Fluff, Unrequited Pining

   Faye was quiet as a mouse as she hefted herself up and onto the stable part of the fence. For the most part, it was solid stone but every time she put her hands on it, dust was left behind and she didn’t think moss made for a good mortar to hold it together but it was much better than the wooden picket bit at the front. She sat there, content, with her back to the sun and with the orange tree hanging over her. The fruits looked exceptionally juicy and plump this time of day but Faye was only peckish - thirsty, too, actually - and not yet hungry so she decided to wait before she plucked one. Besides, there was something much more satisfying to gorge herself on in front of her and that was Alm.

   There was a reason why Faye had been so quiet as she climbed up to the fence wall that surrounded Alm and Mycen’s residence; she didn’t want to disturb Alm. He took his training very seriously and he looked very good whilst doing it. So it was better for the both of them that Alm noticed that he had a visitor - and spectator - at his own pace rather than Faye’s.

   Though, he did seem to be nearing the end of his set. Sweat was sloughing off his arms and forehead as he repeated the same stroke of his wooden practice sword over and over. Faye wondered how many times Alm had done that one motion today: hundreds, thousands? And what of it over his life time, it would surely boggle the mind and even Faye, who considered herself mild and dutiful to chores and repetition, found herself reviled at the thought of doing the same thing so many times. Thus, she admired Alm’s determination.

   It practically glistened off his muscles, off his demeanour. Faye was enamoured as she watched, growing warm under her round, petal-shaped collar. He was slowly down considerably now with well earned exhaustion. He cast down his wooden sword, propping it up at an angle against the cottage and then wandered around the yard, just cooling down in what little of the breeze there was - and it wasn’t cool either.

   He wiped his brow and looked up. Faye smiled as she and Alm made eye contact. Though his exhaustion dripped off him, Alm did visibly perk up at seeing Faye. She said hello as she feebly waved at him and Alm nodded.

   With a running start, Alm lunged at the wall and propelled himself up to sit beside Faye. Faye laughed and Alm stank but neither minded. It felt good to be shoulder to shoulder in the shade of the orange tree.

   “How long have you been watching?” Alm asked.

   “Oh, not long at all.” Faye replied.

   “Where’re the others? Are they gonna come ‘round too?” Alm spoke animatedly.

   “Er, no…” Faye replied. “I thought it would be nice for us to hang out one on one for a change. You boys are always running off with secret squirrel men’s business, or so you say, I think its just boys being boys to me, always leaving me in the dust…” Faye complained and her expression quibbled, “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

   Alm panicked slightly at seeing Faye get pouty, “No, no, it's not like that at all,” he replied quickly, stammering and tripping on his own words, his hands flailed instinctively, “I didn’t consider your feelings. I’m, well, I’m an extravert, I guess. I like it when we hang out together as one big group, I didn’t realise that you feel excluded by me and the guys sometimes, either… But trust me, you wouldn’t have fun when we go off on our own like that.”

   “Oh, I do believe that,” Faye said pointedly, but her mildly irritated demeanour shifted, softened, “but I’m glad you are happy to see me. And that you want to spend time with me - er, if you have chores, or if I’m intruding, I would especially understand if you don’t want me popping in unannounced.”

   “Not at all, I have the rest of the afternoon off, thank goodness for sabbath, eh?” Alm replied.

   “Y-yes, thank goodness for the weekly break but even so, you work so hard at your swordsmanship…” Faye murmured in mild agreement to Alm’s statement.

   “It’s my pride and joy.” Alm beamed.

   “I can tell, you look very good and professional doing it.” Faye said.

   “Thanks Faye but I want to get stronger still. I know I can.” Alm continued on and it sounded like there was more he wanted to say but his voice had something in common with the stone they sat upon: it was rather… bricked out.

   “I’ll cheer you on, promise,” Faye encouraged him, “and I know just the trick. You can’t be some good village swordsman if you're on an empty stomach.”

   As though on cue, Alm’s belly rumbled. He touched his stomach and blushed. He felt as though Faye had just read his mind. She smiled as she reached up to the low hanging branches of the orange tree and pulled off an orange for Alm and then one for herself.

   “Thank you, Faye.” Alm told her as he accepted the first plucked orange from her.

   “You're welcome.” Faye replied.

   She began to roll her orange between the palms of her hands, like it was a toy and that confused Alm just as much as Alm was confusing her. He had already stabbed through the top of his orange with a finger, juice spurting everywhere, messy.

   “What are you doing?” Alm asked, blinking owlishly.

   “Mama told me it makes the rinds come off easier and with less mess so I’ve been doing it ever since.” Faye replied, also blinking owlishly.

   “Really?” Alm asked, incredulous but fascinated.

   “Yes, see?” Faye replied as she began to undress her orange with ease.

   Alm’s attention was rapt as Faye managed to create a long, winding peel from her orange’s wind. Faye kicked her boots playfully as she showed off her creation. Now she had the perfect little sphere of an orange in her other hand to nibble on. Alm gasped, impressed. It was certainly a lot more fanciful than the ripped up fragments that he torn off his orange.

   “That’s really cool, Faye.” Alm praised her, all innocently boyish. “I’ll have to try that for the next time I eat oranges, I reckon.”

   Faye giggled sweetly, “No worries.” she replied.

   “But,” Alm interpreted her playfully as a smirk began to dawn on his face, “can you do this?”

   Faye blinked and then watched as Alm stuffed his mouth not with the flesh of the fruit but with its skin. Faye giggled again as Alm beamed with his orangey mouth. It was cute and joking and never failed to be at least a little bit funny.

   “That is true.” Faye agreed through her girlish laughter. “But I can do it too.”

   She picked off the end of her peel so she could place it in her mouth. She grinned ear to ear using it. Alm laughed as Faye showed off her own orangey mouth and beneath the peel, the smile was for real. The sun was warm and the moment was carefree: Faye knew then and there that she would cherish it and aside from these already retroactive feelings of nostalgia, a flicker of hope carried too. That just maybe if she could make Alm laugh and smile enough times then she may just broach through and get her wish, that Alm would accept her and her feelings.

   But until then, Faye just let the orange peel muffle her voice and her laughter. It dawned on her, bittersweet against the sharp citrus taste of fresh oranges, that they were a lot more similar than Faye had initially thought. Maybe she would do the same thing over and over, seemingly fruitlessly and without end, if it meant that her dream would come true. She could only hope, she supposed and was glad the orange peel was there to keep her lips smiling upwards as her once pleasant thoughts soured. Maybe she ought to train herself up more too with her bow and arrow, she might just get to strike an ace that way, between an orange on Alm's head and his heart in his chest, she was certain that she would hit her mark either way if she could be just as hard working as Alm - and for Alm, she could be twice as enthused, Faye had no doubt.

[skyfrost-nail-kincare]

Mod Sun, back again! Could I ask for a tarot reading my relationship with Alm in my 1st Kliff timeline? The usual relationship spread is fine, and dont worry about taking your time!

I LET THIS SIT. FOR SO LONG. i am so sorry. but of course!!!! youll find it below the cut!!!

- mod tobin [dimitri]

aight so u know the drill with these readings and also my deck, so we can get right down to it!!

your cards

card 1: the reversed two of pentacles tells me that balance was not something you were very good at! you had trouble keeping different parts of your life individual, and you just kind of combined everything to the best of your ability and like. kind of were an organized mess, ig?

card 2: the reversed princess of swords tells me that you also were kind of all-talk? you rushed through things, you wanted to get to the end--potentially having some thoughts about what happens when you die? just a gut feeling.

card 3: the knight of cups is about adventure! this tells me that despite everything you struggled with, that you still enjoyed the journey that youd gone on alongside alm and the others! 

alms cards

card 1: the reversed star tells me that alm had issues with insecurity. he didnt feel like he could do everything, doubting himself and really relying on the deliverance for help. in reality, he was probably doing amazing--he just didnt believe in himself that much.

card 2: the reversed six of swords makes me think that alms insecurity stems from a childhood event? maybe how mycen never let him leave the village, or possibly something else? but because of that, alm kinda had some emotional baggage.

card 3: more insecurity from the eight of swords! alm felt like he was trapped in his own mind to some extent, like he couldnt get out of it. no matter who told him how good he was doing, he didnt get what they saw. i feel like this in particular came up because you helped him out with it? 

dynamic card

card: the reversed tower was a big shocker for me. i shrieked bc... the tower. but!! the reversed meaning is avoiding or delaying disaster! i feel like this kind of means that you two got really close before something bad happened, and yall helped each other through whatever trauma arose. maybe this was the final battle against duma? whatever it was, yall really did help each other, i think.

hopefully this sounds about right to you!!! weeps..

[four-loose-screws]

FE2 Novelization Translation - Book 2 Chapter 1 Part 2

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

Chapter 1 - The Second War

Part 2 - The Empty Throne

A gorge filled with water divides north and south Valentia. It also serves as the border between Zofia and Rigel. No one knew when it had been built, but a stone bridge, old yet just as strong as ever as the years passed on, was the only path connecting the two countries. At both the north and south ends of the bridge were stone buildings, both constructed atop a firm foundation to serve as the border defense stronghold of each nation.

Currently at the front gate of Zofia’s stronghold was a single sacred horse, neighing happily that he was allowed to gallop as quickly as he could, hooves directed straight towards Zofia Castle. Atop the horse was his master, Gray, a Paladin who’s furrowed brow and serious expression were in stark contrast to his mount’s happiness. He was one of Alm’s friends that grew up with him in Ram Village. While they had a bond of friendship that would last a lifetime, Gray also viewed Alm as the master he would serve until the end of his days. He did not hesitate even for a moment to join the Deliverance with Alm, and now, he served the Newly Reborn Knights of Zofia with skills that could not be matched.

…Ram Village. It was the place where Holy Knight Mycen had brought Celica, secretly the real Princess Anthiese, after he saved her life, and hid her while she could not return to the castle. Alm was not of any blood relation to him, but he raised Alm there as his grandson. How did Mycen come to raise Emperor Rudolf’s son?

The truth of that matter still slept within the depths of Mycen’s heart, and only Mycen’s heart, but regardless, he contributed the biggest impact towards the development of Alm and Celica’s inseparable bond.

Gray, together with the sniper Tobin, also from Ram Village, had been taught the basics of combat by Mycen. Tobin was currently guarding Zofia Castle.

Gray had been ordered by Alm to serve in the border guard. And though it was not such a big deal that he did so, he was not supposed to rush out of the border stronghold.

“We must go to the castle immediately!”

Gray yelled as he kicked his sacred horse’s side. Because his mount had been born from his Achilles’ heel when he transcended, he did not even have to pull on the reins, trusting his mount to gallop as quickly as possible towards their destination. 

Though he did not turn around, he knew exactly what he heard coming from the border stronghold behind him - blood curdling screams.

…………

“Alm, the throne cannot stay empty forever.” Said Lukas, commander of the Newly Reborn Knights of Zofia’s castle guard. 

His pride coursed through him as a member of the old Knights of Zofia and survivor of Desaix’s coup-d’etat, who continued to fight for Zofia’s liberation as a member of the Deliverance until the day their goal was achieved. Now, he had transcended from Solder to Knight, and was General Alm’s right hand man. At the beginning, though Alm’s skills with the sword were extraordinary, he was still just a villager from Ram Village. But even then, Lukas had foreseen Alm’s natural talent to become a general, and was the fastest to accept Alm as the leader of the Deliverance. He was also the person who took Desaix’s head in the very final moments of the War of Deliverance.

“It is long past time for it to be filled.” Alm said in response. His eyes stared at the empty throne. Though they had won the War of Deliverance and returned the throne to the royal family, even now, after several days, no one had appeared to sit upon it. 

And the Royal Sword, a symbol of the royal family, had been taken back from Desaix on the night of liberation, and placed beside the empty throne as an offering to King Lima IV’s departed soul. But now, it was still simply resting there.

It was time to finally bring everything to an end. That was why Lukas had secretly called Alm to speak with him, and with the consensus of the rest of the Newly Reborn Knights of Zofia, the two were allowed to meet in Zofia Castle’s throne room, which they had previously declared sacred grounds that no one could enter without good reason. The Knights were burning with the desire to take down the Rigel Empire that had plotted the downfall of their country, and avenge their royal family. And the flames were reaching their peak. Alm believed that mad Emperor Rudolf’s death would be the foundation for peace across all of Valentia. And more so than that, he believed it was his one true destiny as a Fighter.

…After the War of Deliverance, everyone thought that the royal family’s one remaining direct descendant, Princess Anthiese, would immediately return to the castle, but they had yet to see even a flicker of her shadow. The Knights heard that she was alive and in the desert to the northeast, hurried to clear the road traveling northeast that had been blocked off by the aftermath of the giant earthquake, and deployed several units into the desert to escort her to the castle, however, the intel they gathered while within Jesse’s Mercenary Kingdom did not include any meaningful information about the princess. All they learned was that she had already left, and started heading north. Which was not in the direction of the castle at all.

The Knights still did not know that Celica, General of Mila’s Restoration Army, was the very person they were looking for, because she did not carry herself like a princess would at all. 

They had even started to wonder if the news that the princess is alive had been fake, and were now questioning everything, bringing down the overall mood within the castle.

“The princess is alive. We have no other choices than to believe that to be the truth.” Lukas said. “Regardless, our current problem is not whether or not she is alive. Nor is it really that important that she comes to the castle.

“The news that the princess is alive certainly gave the Knights the morale to defeat Desaix. And Desaix’s defeat made Zofia’s citizens believe that the royal family was restored to their rightful place - there are no doubts about that now. Though word has traveled that the princess is alive, what more so made the citizens’ hearts confident in the return of the royal family was the strength of our Knights. What we need now is to turn the citizens’ belief into reality. And that reality does not necessarily have to come from a direct descendant of the royal family. Only if Princess Anthise returned home to the castle could that be an option.” 

Lukas continued, “Alm. If the throne remains empty, then the country will soon be in danger. Logical reasoning and discussions of your lineage can come after. What you should do right now, as general of the Knights, is take the throne yourself.” He suggested at the end of his speech.

…………

The high-pitched sound of his sacred horse’s horseshoes flying off and hitting a nearby rock made Gray’s ears ring before they disappeared into the wind. He felt in his own Achilles heel the sharp pain of his mount’s bare hooves hitting the stone road beneath them. Because sacred beasts are born from a fragment of their master’s body, the link between the two is absolute. Regardless of who it happens to first, if one is injured, then the other will be as well. And if one dies, then the other will soon die as well.

“We just need to make it to the castle!” Gray’s body suffered just as much pain as his horse’s did. As he closed his eyes and grit his back teeth as hard as he could to endure it, the wind slowed and became intertwined with the scent of the tide, which he crouched from atop his horse to get a good whiff of.

Gray opened his eyes, and saw the outline of the beautiful castle. From the southern stronghold, he had once created a painting of it while shivering in awe of its beauty, intending for his work of art to one day be hung in the throne room. Though his vision was distorted due to the intense pain he was in, it was just as he had depicted it. Its marble walls had been made from seashell plaster, giving it the appearance of snow-capped mountains. It glittered with bright, noble colors in the sunlight, as if the sun itself was expressing how radiant it was.

When Gray rushed across the stone bridge over the moat with a final burst of speed, the gatekeeper recognized him, and immediately opened the gate.

“There is trouble at the border…!” He shouted as he flew within castle grounds.

…………

“You know why I immediately knew how strong you are, right?”

Alm responded to Lukas’s proposal to become the new king by utterly refusing it, and he would not budge. To further try to persuade him, Lukas started to reminisce on their time together so far, while slipping in his reasons as to why he thought Alm would make a great king.

“It was all because of the cross-shaped mark on your right hand. That was the beginning of everything. When I came to Ram Village to recruit Sir Mycen to lead the Deliverance, you mistook me for a Brigand, and your three friends pinned me down.

“But they too are now leaders of the Knights of Zofia. It’s funny how things have changed. …If Kliff was still here, we would likely already have the one thing we lack now - a full-fledged mage unit ready to be deployed at any time. It is a major loss that he is no longer with us.”

The mage Kliff, alongside Gray and Tobin, grew up in Ram Village, and was the third of Alm’s closest friends. The tempests of the War of Deliverance caused many lives to be lost. Another one of the reasons why Alm was so hell-bent on taking down Emperor Rudolf was because one of his best friends had been killed.

“When you raised your sword to cut off my head, I saw it. I recognized the cross-shaped mark on your right hand as the mark of a prodigy. And now I am all the more certain that you are a prodigy. As your friends held me down and I asked with my eyes what you truly felt in your heart, I still do not know what you were thinking then, but regardless, you lowered your sword, and asked me my name. That was also the moment I vowed my loyalty to you.”

“Not only did your eyes have no intention to fight in them, but they were also trembling in fear at the thought of losing your head.” Alm answered him.

The two were both sitting on the stone floor of the throne room, in the same position.

“Your eyes also told me that you knew with every fiber of your being that I would not cut off your head. That was when the fear that had taken hold in your heart transferred to mine. You are the person who knows the path I should follow. And you are the light that will lead me down that path. That was what I sensed, and in that moment, I was afraid of the fact that the person who knew my path in life was right in front of me.”

Mycen knew that Emperor Rudolf was Alm’s father, and that the only possible outcome of his participation in the War of Deliverance would force him to walk down a tragic path that would make him kill his own father. That was why Mycen would not allow Alm to leave Ram Village. And because Lukas knew absolutely nothing about the truth, he saw no reason not to take Alm with him outside of the village.

Alm’s skills with the sword would become a great strength for the Deliverance. And as Mycen’s grandson, he would make for a perfect general. And that is exactly what happened. Alm rallied the Deliverance together, taking the castle back from Desaix’s clutches.

“Then what do you say?” Lukas asked, inching his knees closer to Alm. “If you saw me as the light guiding your path, then will you accept my proposal now? Alm, you are the person fit to become Zofia’s new king. It is what both the people and the soldiers of the Deliverance truly want.”

But Alm still rejected it. The idea itself of becoming king was not what made him hesitate. His goal was to take Emperor Rudolf’s head himself. 

And Rudolf’s soldiers were all transcended units and fierce fighters. Even Rudolf himself was an active soldier transcended to the highest class of all Cavalier units, Gold Knight, considered the ideal Unit by all sword-wielding Units beneath him. The Knights of Zofia still had no idea how powerful he was.

He and Alm could very well be equally matched, meaning that they may simultaneously kill each other. And Alm did not think that someone whose sole wish was to kill their enemy should become king. If Alm became king, then the people immediately had to accept his death - their king’s death. He was afraid the impact that would have on the country would be too great.

A king always had to think about living and caring for the people. But the nature of Alm’s actions always risked his life. From the very beginning, it was not possible for him to sit on the throne.

“There is no possible way that I can become the new king. Because…”

The moment Alm was about to tell Lukas exactly why he was refused to take the throne, though no one was supposed to step foot in the throne room, a group of Units rushed in, alongside the echoes of their hurried footsteps.

The group lined up in front of Lukas and Alm, interrupting their private conversation. They were all the most elite members of the Newly Reborn Knights of Zofia, and their comrades in battle. The first two were the best Units in the Zofia Castle guard and survivors of the old Knights of Zofia, the Knight Forsyth, and the Sniper Python. Also present were the Sniper Tobin of Ram Village; as well as the Saint Silque, a servant of goddess Mila who had sworn to also serve Alm until the very end.

Because they had not yet come to a conclusion deciding whether or not Alm would ascend the throne, Lukas at first thought that everyone hurried in to each give Alm their own advice, but when he saw someone among them who was not supposed to be in the castle guard, he became nervous. The weakened Paladin among the group, being supported by Tobin and Forsyth on either side of him so he could walk, was Gray, who was supposed to be serving as a member of the border guard.

“What’s wrong?!” Lukas question was more of a scream as Gray slowly collapsed to the floor. Gray was supposed to be guarding the border with the other survivors of the old Knights of Zofia, including the Paladin Clive; his younger sister, the Falcon Knight Clair; and his beloved, the Cavalier Mathilda. Until they received new orders, they were not supposed to come to the castle.

Gray forced himself to say through gasps for breath so heavy his shoulders were heaving. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Everyone knew what he would say next.

“An army of Witches crossed the stone bridge. Rigel has dared to cross the border!”

Rigel made their move faster than the Newly Reborn Knights of Zofia could regroup, making a declaration of war, even if they were not saying the words aloud. After losing Desaix, causing the foundation of the invasion to crumble, they thought Rigel would have lost their morale. But now, Rigel was doing the exact opposite, and starting an all-out war.

“Clair and her falcon are managing to keep them at bay along the shore, but there’s too many of them. They’re like a tsunami! It’s only a matter of time until our entire border guard is wiped out!” Gray shouted.

Silque calmed his arms, waving around in a panic, by taking his hands into her own, and healing him. 

Lukas turned on his heels towards the throne. Then, he took the Royal Sword from against the throne and into his hands. He offered it directly to Alm.

“Our true enemy is the Rigelian Empire. This is a battle between nations. Alm. As the new king of the Kingdom of Zofia, order us to deploy from this castle.”

With Lukas’ forceful words, and everyone’s eyes on him, Alm could argue against it no longer. He made up his mind and took the Royal Sword from Lukas with his dominant arm.

The Royal Sword, now reborn to fulfill its true duty yet again, shined brightly. It was heavier than the sword Alm had used until now, causing him to unexpectedly need to put more power into the muscles of his right arm to carry it. Everyone noticed that this made his cross-shaped mark darken to a deeper black color than ever before. 

[dolleyantoinette]

Celica: The Poor Little Rich Girl...

My friend and i have this really, really werid AU and it’s a combitnation of a crap ton of our mutual fandoms and interests and OCs and all that fun stuff, however, the very first thing to start off this really werid, specific AU was based around the idea of putting the cast of Fire Emblem Echoes into the world of Devil May Cry, AKA, Modern AU plus some demons.

this has since expanded and is just... really fucking wild, but i’ve spent too long working on this au to hide my passion, have some rambles about the girl who started off this whole AU: Celica.

Born in the late 80s, Celica was the only legitimate child to Lima, who whilst married to Liprica had many affairs and many children with his mistresses. The two were married, however, Lima earned most of his money through inheritance and real estate, and it was less of a marriage and more a case of Liprica living with Celica in one of the Lima properties, whilst only spending time with her husband on holidays or public events. (I’m not calling Lima a yuppie but)

Mila’s religion in this AU is one we’ve not expanded upon much, however, it’s somewhat of a small borderline cultish branch of another religion and Lima’s family was one of the most prominent members of the church, the marriage between Liprica and Lima was more of a religious status affair over a romantic one Speaking of the religion, first names are ones reserved for family, whilst “Church names” are what the rest of the world may refer to you by. Anthiese is Celica’s real name, but Celica is her “Church name” (is this a weridly culty way of me working around the fact we call her celica??? yes.)

 When Celica was about 9 or so, Liprica died (the circimstances haven’t been decided upon yet, but I’ve always imagined it was either in a house fire or suicide), and she entered the foster system, specifically living under Mycen, Alm’s foster parent, who also is pretty much.. the local babysitter... Lima was uninterested in really having to deal with her in his house considering he was just... high a lot... Celica still technically was in contact with Lima, as his only legitimate child, she was on the will, she was his daughter in the eyes of the church, unlike her half-siblings. Celica’s contact with Lima was basically birthday checks tho (I love problematic families)

 As she grew older, Celica, as an heiress, was somewhat of a socalite after leaving Mycen’s home. Whilst my partner and I have never discussed to what extent, she had a place in high society and the money to prove it. Despite this, she was still very much a troubled girl, forever haunted by her mother’s death whilst her only relationship with her father being a finical one

 in 2007 (A little before the events of the DMC anime), Celica had made a decision to find her elder half-brother, Conrad, whom she lost contact with after Liprica’s death. Initially, she had went to hire Saber to assist her on her journey to find Conrad, a close friend who she had seen a lot of growing up, one of Mycen’s former brats, however, for plot reasons he was busy and instead recommended a fellow mercenary and mutal friend, Dante, and that’s where all the messy shit happens with our AU and things start clashing and there’s no real story

tl;dr - i like giving celica sad backstories : )

oh yeah, most of the content the AU is focussed around slice of life and takes place in like 2019, which is all rambly junk no one will care about but celica later has 4 babies and it’s very wholesome

[fayesdiary]

because I know you love to drag him, thoughts on Rudolf, leader of Rigel and somehow father of Alm

Hoo boy.

So, I've made no secret that I fucking hate this guy. If you check #rudolf in my tags, almost every post you'll find is just me and my mutuals tearing him to shreds.

The TL;DR is that is plan is unbelievably contrived and stupid and pointlessly killed countless people, he's needlessly cold and downright cruel to Alm, Berkut and Rigelians in general and he actively makes Echoes worse because the writing is obsessed with validating him and portraying him as a noble antihero.

As for the long version, well... Let's examine one thing at a time, shall we?

(Includes info from the Echoes Accordion and Heroes that you should take with a grain of salt)

(Also just want to say that my hatred of Rudolf is overexaggerated for fun because I have better things to do than constantly hating a fictional character)

The Plan™

First of all, his master plan to save Valentia. Realizing that Duma was starting to degenerate and after discovering that his newborn son Alm had the Brand of the hero fated to save Valentia, he devises The Plan™ to ensure he will succeed.

Said plan involves:

Entrusting Alm to his old friend Mycen and have him raise his son as the best champion possible, and have them move to Zofia to ensure that the Duma Faithful won't attempt on Alm's life or manipulate him;

Fifteen years later, declare war on Zofia and attack Mila with the Falchion, sealing her and causing a famine in the whole kingdom now that Zofia's soil isn't blessed anymore;

Then, the Zofian Army will fight back with Alm leading it, and storm Rigel until they reach the Castle;

"Fight" Alm and get fatally wounded by him, and only then tell him the truth about his lineage and Duma's madness;

Alm and that other girl with the Brand then go kill Duma and save Valentia, now living without gods without any major issues caused by this plan whatsoever. The End.

Of all of these step 1 is the only one that makes sense, while the others make no sense, cause a lot of collateral damage or are reliant on external factors that are extremely unlucky to happen, even when factoring the prophecy.

Remember, it just said "the two Brand-bearers will slay the maddened gods and save Valentia", not "oh by the way, one of them will grow up in a random village, end up leading the army of a whole kingdom and successfully attack the Rigelian Empire which is a military superpower to the point of storming the capital".

Sure, you could stretch it and say that many fantasy stories (especially JRPGs) follow a similar structure, but that only helps make it a bit more sense as a game, but not in-universe. Here it just comes off as a massive gamble on something that has a one in a million chances to happen!

And also, it stinks even more that this plan ends up "working" because "destiny said so", when you consider that this game takes place in the same world of Awakening whose whole thing was proving that destiny and prophecies are nothing but garbage.

The whole thing is even worse if you consider the Echoes Accordion as canon, because there it's revealed that Rudolf, the fucker, HAD A BRAND OF HIS OWN AND IT'S THE SOLE REASON HE BECAME EMPEROR, giving even more credibility to the fact that he could have just gone and killed Duma himself just like he did with Mila, given he too can wield Falchion, and none of the tragedies in the game would have happened. No Jedah turning the Faithful into a death cult, no Berkut completely snapping (and don't worry we'll get back to him), no Alm being forced to kill his family and being traumatized because of it, and no war between Rigel and Zofia taking countless lives.

But nope, I'll just have my son and the other girl deal with this whole mess. Can't contradict the prophecy.

Oh, and also let's not forget that he cause a whole ton of other deaths of both Zofian and Rigelians due to starvation and bandits and him not doing anything about it. Or that time the Faithful planned to flood the whole of Zofia and he just let them. His goal is to "stop people from relying on gods", but the way he does it is the equivalent of teaching a child how to ride a bike without training wheels by breaking their legs and ignoring them when they keep falling and getting hurt, which now that I think about it isn't that far off of a metaphor given how fucking garbage he is as a parent.

Oh Sweet Mila Someone Call The CPS On This Guy

Original meme by @moyzi

I often joke that the best thing Emperor Boomer could have possibly done for Alm is to give him to Mycen and have him raise his son instead but I mean it, because saying this man is an awful father is the understatement of the century.

Massena and a Rigelian soldier in Rigel Castle love to mention how Rudolf cared for Berkut as if he was his own son. Well then, let's take a look at how he cared for him, shall we?

We only see them interact during two scenes, the first after Berkut gets his ass handed to him after his stunt in the forest, and the second one before the fight at Rigel Castle.

During the first scene Rudolf only asks Berkut if he actually did challenge the Deliverance with just three men and, to be fair, that is something Berkut needed to be criticized on, because he was so full of himself he thought it was a good idea.

But then you have Jedah deliberately mocking him and poking at his insecurities, and Rudolf stays silent.

And you know, it's funny Rudolf recognized the threat the Duma Faithful posed to Alm but does absolutely nothing to protect Berkut from them, letting them manipulate his nephew right under his nose.

In general, Rudolf's approach to parenthood is one of stern neglect, resulting in Berkut being desperate to ottain his uncle's approval but instead being barely acknowledged by him.

In Heroes it's revealed the parent of the year couldn't even bother to celebrate the festivities with his nephew and generally shunned him because he was burdened by having sent Alm away.

(In general Berkut's life is just tragic, he never had any sort of decent parental figure besides maybe his mother and it clearly shows)

And that culminates in their second and last scene together, where on Rigel's last line of defense Rudolf forces Berkut to stand by and watch the battle happen from the sidelines, while calling him weak in the meantime.

Now, I'm sure the intention was for Berkut to not die fighting the Zofian army for no reason, but since this is Rudolf we're talking about, he goes through it in the dumbest and cruelest way possible.

This also means Berkut watched Alm kill Rudolf and likely heard the whole reveal, making him completely lose what little mental stability he had left.

And despite barely caring about his nephew, the game says Santa Claus treated Berkut as his own son, and I don't know what it's worse: If it's false and Alm would have gotten a lot of favoritism in Rigel, or true meaning that Alm would have had to deal with the same neglect and "Father knows best" nonsense.

Then again, he did force Alm to kill him for no reason and only reveal the truth as he was dying, traumatizing his son for the heck of it and having him deal with all the mess, because if you traumatize your children it clearly means you're a good parent.

So overall, unbelievably neglectful at best and cruel "for their own good" at worst.

And sure, he might not be Fire Emblem's worst parent, but that's only because he has to contend with the likes of Hilda (not that one), Gooron and Sonia, but those are so evil and so bad it's almost absurd.

Rudolf is different. He's the kind of person who believes himself to be the best parent ever while neglecting and mistreating their child while dumping his responsibilities onto them, and I find it to be much, much more realistic and insidious than the aforementioned examples since those kick babies in their spare time.

And that's one of the reasons part of me gets livid thinking about him.

Please IntSys stop justifying horrible people

But the main one is how Echoes and outside material keeps praising him as a just man and a great father who only tried to save the world despite his many, many misdeeds.

Because really, had the game acknowledged that while misguided he was doing way more harm than good and stopped pretending he's a puppet master, he'd have done for a compelling antagonist, but alas...

In the main game we've got everything after the end of Act 4, with the most egregious moment being Alm being apparently bewildered Berkut felt betrayed by his uncle when "He loved you until the end! How can you not see that?"

Remember that his only interaction with the man was being forced to kill him and then him saying "By the way I'm your dad. Now go kill God for me lol"

And one of the clearest example for me is the Valentian Day of Devotion, which I found disappointing for a number of reasons.

Besides Faye being shafted again at an event that's supposed to celebrate all forms of love (then again I never expected to get a Faye alt so), you've got Rudolf sticking his ugly red nose where it doesn't belong, so the event is mostly Alm trying to impress his sorry excuse of a father when he'd have every right to be pissed at him just like he snapped at Mycen.

And again, more dialogue showing that he's a terrible parent, but no one even acknowledging it.

I've said it before but really, he has more in common with Jedah that you'd think. Both are terrible parents, both have done some horrific stuff while being absolutely convinced they're right and it's for the best, and both seem to get a kick out of being cruel to people.

Rudolf is just better at hiding it.

[jasperlion]

It’s almost funny to him now, the way things change value depending on where you are. Before he left Ram, all he had seen in his life had been silver marks, knowledge of gold obtained only from Gray’s tales of it from his trips with his parents, and his education under Mycen. He only ever really saw gold marks when he left.

“Five silver marks? You’d be lucky to find yourselves scraps of clothes with that.”

It had been shocking to hear something so dismissive of an amount he had found quite hefty all his life. Still, it taught him something. The worth of things and who held what at what esteem changed depending on the person and location — that was one of the many lessons he learned on his first foray to the world outside.

Understanding that became a necessity when the Deliverance was foisted onto his shoulders, and he was forced to bear witness to it. How the value of clothes, of food, and that of skills in and outside of battle changed. It became invaluable after his rise to power in Rigel— more so during his talks with Celica to further their plans to reunite the countries for good.

In Askr, money is completely different. They don’t use marks there, not silver and not gold, and he’s not sure it would have any value back home if he took some with him. He doubts marks have much use in the marketplace, so he doesn’t plan to touch the small handful he had with him when he arrived.

And, in Askr, the value of lives changed too.

The people, of course, came first and foremost. The lives of everyone who could truly die came first and foremost (and he’s sure there’s probably preferences by having a title or lacking one, too).

They say in Askr the leaders of the Order uphold the credo to treat every Hero fairly, and thus their strategies must be sound and move forward as if they truly could die, not just feel the pain and manifest once more after the fact.

But... can a leader truly think that way, when a reckless move costs nothing? A vague thought reaches his mind about time rewinding and second chances— but this feels... different. For the benefit of those who truly live, those plucked from their homes must sometimes suffer death, regardless of it’s permanence. 

... It’s not been the first time he’s seen lives change value.

Back home, in the same breath Clive could have condemned Delthea to the slaughter and fervently wished for Mathilda’s freedom and salvation. And it had not even been the first time he had bore witness to this— it had just easier to think only bad people did so. He has learned much since then.

Still— things had never been like this. The summoner could very well march them to their deaths on orders they could not defy and not even bat an eye, not even at their screams. After all, they always came back.

Was it normal to feel so suffocatingly close to death—and yet as far from it as Rigel’s north to Zofia’s south? To feel the value of your own life slip away... to feel your concern and worry for your allies slink through your hands like sand...?

“Only lost two this time? We got off easy, didn’t we?”

He feels sick for laughing when he heard the comment from a fellow teammate.

He’s scared one day he will no longer fear death, or value his life. That one day he will no longer feel when someone dies, because despite the suffering they’ll be back anyway. What if it changes him so much that...

From his bed in the ward, once more awake after another mission ended without him walking back, he looks to the skies and hopes it never comes to that.