[Challenge 015: Crack Pairing] "New World"
Uhm, the required header kind of contains spoilers for the fic (it's not too bad, but I'm a worrier), so I have it in white under this cut. There's a major spoiler in this fic. Telling you what the spoiler is would be a bit of a spoiler for the fic, but if you want to know it's the whited line right above Warnings.
This is dramatically slimmed down from the original sprawling idea and I intend to make an expanded 10k word version after this round is over. EDIT: A recent revelation about canon broke part of the headcanon that made the idea of the expansion compelling. As such, I've scrapped that idea.
Many many many thanks to raphiael for betaing and talking Magvel with me.
Title: New World
Game: FE8 and FE10
Word Count: 3802
Pairings/Characters: Latona/Lehran
Spoiler Warning: FE10 Endgame.
Warnings: Dark angst. Spoilers.
(“Be silent now and watch as I erase these things that confuse your simple heart.”)
The first thing Latona noticed was the stone jutting uncomfortably into her stomach. Groggily she curled her hand around its smooth surface, remembering. She had slept like a mother bird guarding her last child, this stone, the freedom of the people of Magvel.
She cracked open her eyes to the sight of the messenger reading a tome in the single wooden chair by the window. She had imagined divinity in regal coloration, but he came in monasterial browns, dusky wings and black hair. And yet his fragile grace was not human. When he descended before her at the forest's edge and gave her five glowing spheres with the weight of air, there was no doubt that he was of the gods - this was their miracle.
She gave an audible yawn to let him know that she was awake. He looked up from the pages and smiled. “Good morning,” he said, smoothing the pages as he closed the tome.
“Good morning, Messenger.” She yawned a second time. “You have stayed?”
“Yes. I am not needed in the heavens for now.”
She rose, her undergarments clinging to her arms with a hint of sweat. She ran her fingers through her iris-hued hair, freeing it from the disorder of sleep. As she dressed she said, “Now that we have a means of defeating the demon, we might make our way into the Great Forest. If Grado thinks it best.” The divine messenger's lips quirked in amusement.
They followed the dragon, Morva, one of the few who survived the demon's dragon purges. But Morva was silent and humble, old and somehow distant. Grado filled that void with his noisy charisma. He stood on podiums in battered cities and crowed promises of a new world, a free land. The people followed Grado, and it went straight to his head.
The strongest among them humored him. Mostly. Latona knew him longest - he came from a village not far from her hometown and they had joined at the start of their struggles - but she felt that she did not know him.
Still, they fought together for the last few years of hell that seemed to encompass her entire past. And now they might charge on the Demon King himself. “Things will be dangerous for you,” Latona murmured.
“You need not worry over me.” The familiar way he placed his hands on the tome - she wondered if the gods were learned in the creations of humankind. “You must focus on the battle before you.” He was not terribly laconic, yet he had a way of speaking while revealing nothing.
Straightening the front of her tunic, she carefully pieced together the question in her mind. “Messenger?” His chin resting on his curled hand, he focused his eyes upon her and gave a questioning murmur. “Why did you appear before me?”
“Your group has gone the farthest in opposing the Demon King. The gods smile upon your effort.”
Latona shook her head. “And yet... you did not hand out the stones yourself, or to Morva, but visited me. Why?” The messenger put his fingers to his lips, eyes calculating. “We owe our progress just as much, if not more, to Morva - and Grado - and Jehan, and Frei, Lia, Siegmund, Sieglinde... and the many whose efforts who could not have done without. And yet you sought me out alone.”
“Hmm.”
“Do the gods mean to deliver a task to me?”
“No...” he replied carefully. “You are true to your principles and wise in command. ... That is why. It was left to you to decide how to accomplish this task.”
This answer, too, struck Latona as evasive, but she accepted it with, “I am humbled.” Latona slipped each arm into her tunic and rose to take her weaponry. “And,” she said, “I am flattered by your presence, as well.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
Morva informed them that they would be headed for the Great Forest, and the temple therein where they would find the demon who reigned. Their band was in approval: the end at long last!
For the next few days they marched in their usual formation. Morva first, with his acuity of sight. Then Grado, and Frei - who would defer to no one - beside him, as well as Lia, who led her pegasus along the ground whenever she needed to avoid being sighted by the enemy. Next, the twins Sieglinde and Siegmund, with a weapon near one hand and the other joined. Then Jehan and Taizel, bickering about some detail of magic, Jehan's convictions against Taizel's studies. And then Latona, in the very rear.
That was the place of the healer, in the back, never one to raise her eyes to danger. She pursed her lips and remembered a time when they relied on her (and Taizel's) skill with magic against the cyclopes. Now with Jehan and his students in that regional art, a mixture of swordplay and magic, they needed healers more. Wounded pride would not bring Latona to the conceit of refusing that role.
And so she marched in the back of the elite team. At least, for this trip, the messenger kept her company, walking beside and slightly behind her, wings folded. Even if their conversation was always stilted by decorum, it was companionship.
Three days progressed in this way. On the fourth, worn by exhaustion, she said at one point, “And it was so difficult to learn light magic. Reading was forbidden; I learned by candlelight from an elder in the tailor's storeroom. And now it might be of no use after all.” The messenger turned his head to look at her, and before he could reply she hurriedly added, “Oh - I'm sorry, I should not trouble you with such things.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I encourage you to speak more freely.”
“It is not proper of me.”
“I would like you to,” he said, gently but firmly.
Latona lapsed into silence, her uncertainty so great that the messenger must have sensed it. He was divine, and she was mortal. And yet he ordered her impunity...?
After a period of such silence, the messenger spoke again. “Please,” he said. “I have decided. I enjoy your company and it pains me to make nothing of it. Let us abandon distant propriety for these last few days.”
Certainly, she could not refuse such a direct request. “Very well,” she said. “What would you like to talk about...?”
They slowly wore down the awkwardness between them. What was her favorite food? Bean porridge. Had he studied mortal magic before? Yes. What was her childhood pastime? Mending her family's clothes, if that counted.
“Do you have- no... What is your name?”
The messenger considered her with a soft gaze and something somber touched his smile. “Lehran,” he said.
Latona fed another log into the fire. “Another two marks,” she said. She glanced beside her. Lehran sat statue-still gazing into the campfire, all but hidden in the disarming velvet of bug song and earthy scents. Pondering. “I suppose you cannot share your thoughts?”
She caught Lehran's attention with that. His eyes flickered to her, again with careful calculation in his gaze. “There are many things I have not told you. Not all of it has been forbidden by the gods.” Almost resentful, as if to declare, I have my secrets like any other person. Latona steeled her gaze back to the fire. They might have grown closer, but it was still only a day, she reminded herself.
Several moments passed before the rustling of feathers drew her attention back to Lehran. “Should I tell you?” he said.
“If you wish.”
Latona thought at first that Lehran was disappointed with her lack of interest. Then he said, “Yes. I am too accustomed to keeping secrets.” Without a hint of sarcasm, “And of all people, it should be you. ...You remind me of someone.” The firelight lit half-moons in his eyes as his gaze flickered about Latona's face. “Someone whose spirit may have ceased to exist.”
“How can that be?” she interjected in a shocked whisper. Could death lead to nothingness?
Instead of his usual discretion, he murmured, “How can it be, indeed...?” He held his gaze for a few moments before looking back to the fire. “It may not be so. Her spirit might dwell inside you. That is my hope.” His body abandoned its wary posture; he leaned toward the fire as if curling toward its warmth despite the summer heat. “I loved her deeply.” Latona felt unnerved, and she too turned her eyes to the fire. “In fear I left her while she still had many years of life. In fear I erred for centuries. It could not have come with a greater cost.”
It felt like a confession - silently, Latona struggled to find a response.
After a pause, Lehran said, “Though the world has forgotten her, she was a heroine, as you are. She fought to save her world from chaos.” He rustled beside her, and when he spoke she knew he was looking at her again. “Like her, you are sure-hearted. I know you will succeed.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Even so. Would you let me fight?”
At this Latona's attention returned. “Fight? Against the Demon King?”
“Yes. Please let me lay my regrets at his feet. I will face him.”
“I... I would rather you not risk your sacred life.”
Suddenly, Lehran thrust his hand into the fire. She gasped and grabbed him by the elbow, pulling his arm away. “What are you doing?” she said loudly, momentarily disregarding the camp.
His hand was unharmed. With dark amusement, he said “I am not so easy to destroy.”
All at once Latona was conscious of her hands on his arm, the closeness of her body to his, and she let go, embarrassed. Taking a deep breath, she said, “If you wish to fight with us... I will not oppose it.”
“Thank you,” he said, soft and low. Something in her gut told Latona that she shouldn't let him do this, but she found no way to put it into words by dawn.
Latona thrust the stone in the air. Across the temple, four other stones shone in return. They hummed in strange harmony; she could feel it running through her bones. A memory flashed through her mind: Lehran saying, “You must not destroy his spirit, or another demon will be born. The stones are not only helpful. They are essential.”
The Demon King roared “What is this?”
With a horrifying thud, that vibration ceased. The temple went dark.
“Guard them well. Your task would be even more difficult without their might combined.”
She groped for the blessed staff on her back, trying not to panic as the stone clattered to the ground. The screams and cries of battle continued around her. Her fingers found its cold shaft and in an instant she seized it and held it above her head, willing magic toward its crystal.
Once again, she wished Lehran hadn't left. His demeanor told her that he didn't want to leave either. But he could not refuse an order. That must have been what it was. When a black crane with a red crest came to them, Lehran had turned to her and said, “I'm afraid things have changed. I must return.”
What more would a few hours of his company have given her? All the same she almost felt cheated. “Though I will miss your presence, I understand.”
He hovered for a moment as if considering what to say. He settled for a tender, “Good bye.” The gods' spirit bird blessed their weapons and they left.
Now she felt the strength of that blessing surging through her staff. When she opened her eyes again, she had all but raised the dead.
“Latona!” Grado, running toward her. She switched staves, eying the dark burn on his arm. “Look we don- fine, heal and listen. Siegmund fell, Sieglinde has his stone.” So abrupt, just like that. “We no longer have the edge of surprise-”
“Do you have a plan?” she cut in, lifting her staff from his mended arm.
“I have a plan,” he said just as impatiently. “You get in there and cast light in his face. Light magic, it hums like the stones right? Go. Taizel can handle your stone.”
It was a good idea. Grado had his flashes of brilliance. It would work, if she were willing...
Without a word, Latona dropped the stone into Grado's waiting hand. Wrapping his fingers around it, he said, “I'm sorry.” So different from the commander who had just given her the order.
“No. I agree with your plan.” She returned her staff to its holder and fumbled with the buckles about the book of light strapped to her side as she ran closer to the demon.
Grado had asked her to act as the decoy, she thought to herself. As bait.
She thought about Siegmund's abrupt death.
She thought about Lehran and his lifelong regrets.
She thought about the razed fields of Rausten and the names of those called to greater sacrifices.
Perhaps the battle muted more than just her sorrow. As she opened Ivaldi she was not afraid.
(“Never again will I allow myself to commit such atrocities. I will become a goddess to properly guide and protect my people. I will become perfect.”)
“I do not understand, Lehran. Are you not satisfied in my service?”
“Forgive me, my goddess. I cannot explain well enough.”
“I command you to make an attempt.”
“I... The matters are beyond counting. I do not mean to slight you, yet - perhaps at one time you would have understood yourself.”
“You try my patience. There is nothing I cannot know.”
“My mistakes. Our ruin was my doing as much as any other's. If I had not run, my children would not have had to suffer. The beorc and laguz would not have thought their mingling unclean. I dare to think... they may not have grown to hate each other. It was my weakness.”
“They have fought since I was named Ashunera. Their nature is no doing of yours.”
“It is true they had chaos within them. Yet that made them whole. It gave them courage and passion. It filled them with life, as chaos does fill them again..”
“Courage and passion are not needed. If they were of order alone, they would still defend their land out of duty. When Fomortiis is sealed, they will not war amongst themselves. They have grown in my image. The mistake of allowing greater chaos by Yune's erasure has been remedied. All shall be well.”
“My goddess... it is not merely that we watch them grow. Do you not miss their company?”
“Their company? I shall be fulfilled if my world does not war. With that and your company, I need nothing else.”
“...”
“Do you disagree, Lehran?”
“Goddess... I....”
“You are my favorite child. What troubles you? Speak.”
“... I have never been so alone.”
“You are not. I will be with you, always. I can see all the world. I can gift you the tale of any creature in this world. Will you hear one now? Of the girl you favored?”
“Please.”
“Very well. Their group charges into the temple. Many fall before the breath and claws of chaos before they are able to summon the stones' power.”
The flash of light had barely left her fingertips when the demon unleashed a furious stream of breath at her. Caught off-guard, Latona struck the floor in a cloud of acid. It burned her face, her neck, her hands, and the force rang through her bones, made them crack with flashes of hot pain.
On the hard stone floor. Darkness above. She laid there and tried to catch her breath. Everything stung at once and she couldn't seem to get enough air. Dully she registered a vibration in the air, a light illuminating the ceiling. If she were to die, it would have been for their success...
All at once, Latona felt something strike her - like a torrent of water had crashed into her and swept her into the sea. Just as quickly the feeling subsided. The pain lifted from her body and she opened her eyes to see who had healed her.
There was no one near her. Perhaps a powerful staff...
Is that better, maiden Latona?
Whose voice was that? It was... familiar. She struggled to sit and looked at the demon so near her, attacking their army with predictable movements as if he were a machine.
Poor girl, always overlooked. Only to be used as a sacrifice...
Her eyes settled on Grado, gesturing and shouting to the people around him, stone in one hand.
Who really keeps this army together?
She found Ivaldi beside her on the floor. Her fingers curled over its cover.
Why don't you show him the power he's ignored?
“You remind me of someone.”
She picked up the tome and opened it, her fingers running under the first line of the incantation.
No one will notice in the heat of battle. Then you will be remembered as the true champion of this war.
“Though the world has forgotten her, she was a heroine, as you are.”
Her lips and throat produced the familiar incantation. Magic gathered and swelled in the air.
Yes, claim your destiny from that fool...
“She fought to save her world from chaos.”
All at once she recognized the attack at her fingers and the ally in her vision. Latona hesitated and the spell dissipated into the air.
Now is not the time for second thoughts.
Grado's eyes met hers and widened with alarm.
“You are sure-hearted, as she was. I know you will succeed.”
No, it was not the time for second thoughts. She fought for her people. For Rausten. For Magvel - “Begone, demon,” she whispered.
Do you mean to turn your back upon limitless possibilities?
“You won't lead me astray. Be gone from this body, demon-!”
“In desperation, Fomortiis seeks refuge within the girl's body. She is strong of mind. She repels his spirit, and the warrior captures him in his stone. Their army defeats the demon's body.”
“... I'm glad.”
“It is a simple story. Even you must have known how it would end.”
“I thank you for telling me, my goddess.”
“Do the predictable acts of these creatures so move you?”
“Yes. I would like nothing better than to live amongst them once again.”
“So you have told me. I listened to your plea, and in fairness, I granted you a task to their world. You showed me that you cannot be trusted. You shall remain here with me. If it pleases you, I can copy their tomes for you to read while I sleep.”
“...”
“You have not yet answered, Lehran. I have blessed you with life like none other. Why do you seek to make your end?”
(“Death is all you've wanted since this started.”)
“He didn't make it.” Latona stepped into the main room with blood on her clothes and the smell of sick suffused into her skin. Siegmund and Lia had fallen in the battle, and now Taizel had succumbed to rot. Latona, still too numb to grieve, turned to Grado and said, “He wanted you to look over his homeland.”
“His homeland?” Grado echoed.
Latona nodded and spread a map over the table, the weave of the paper dimpled against her fingertips. “The strong-spirited southlands,” she said, tracing its edges. “East to the Tethys River. North covering the Adlas Forest. And up and about covering the Borgo Ridge. He wanted you to watch over it for him.”
Grado was momentarily silent. “I will. I'll make sure the academies and libraries prosper in the nation of Grado.” With a glance, he trusted Latona with his hometown. He stepped to the table and laid his giant palm over the map, spread his fingers across towns and rivers. “We should sit and settle this now. How we'll look after the world.”
“How should we decide?” Frei interjected.
“I don't think we'll disagree,” Grado said simply. He looked to Latona, respect in his eyes. “Latona?”
“The land about my hometown, Rausten. West to... the temple. South, to the range of Mount Neleras.” She lifted her finger from the map and chanced to look at Frei who stood across the table.
“The land where Lia and I were raised. North of the southlands as Grado described, and east to the Renais range.”
“Then my land is in the valley of the Renais mountains,” spoke Sieglinde. “East until the desert of the white dunes.”
“The desert is my home. My nation shall also contain the rest unclaimed: east to the coast, north to Rausten, as well as the lands north of the Renais mountains, west to meet Frelia.”
There came a sound from the shadows. Startled, they turned their heads to Morva, entering from his room.
“Oh,” Grado said. “Morva. We were debating rulership. We can start over -”
“I heard you,” said Morva. “I need no land. I will stay in the Great Forest and watch over the last of the demon's evil.” He glanced at the map and turned his eyes to Jehan. “I ask only one thing: let the Caer Pelyn range from under your rule.”
“Done.”
“Then we're agreed,” Grado said.
Latona turned to the door. To their questioning looks, she said, “Please give me a moment. I need some air.”
She descended the stairs of the inn and stepped out into the street. Word of victory had reached this town days ago, and now the villagers had returned to their daily concerns, bustling about with goods and children. A week before she had fought to free her spirit from a demon. On this day a woman complained about the price of flour.
Latona walked slowly along the road, catching fragments of conversations - bartering, gossip, children telling tall tales. This village would become part of her land. She would be a ruler. There had only been one ruler in mortal memory, and she would never look to him in example. They would be the first rulers of their kind, and knowing how to act seemed impossible.
At the end of the street, she paused by the forest's edge and turned her gaze upward. That was where she first became aware of the messenger when he had delivered the stones.
“My Gods,” she whispered, “I thank You. We could not have done this without Your aid: Your power - Your wisdom - Your love. We will never forget the help You have given us. I shall guide my country, and I shall lead them to Your light.
“Lehran - I hope I will deserve comparison to the heroine you once knew. As for us... the world will not be in such peril for as long as I live. I know the gods will not send you. Yet, though it may be in vain... I hope I shall see you again.
“Perhaps you can hear me. Perhaps you are watching. If you are, then please, don't be so sad. I shall think of you each night alongside the gods. If words are enough, I can keep you company forever.”
This is dramatically slimmed down from the original sprawling idea and I intend to make an expanded 10k word version after this round is over. EDIT: A recent revelation about canon broke part of the headcanon that made the idea of the expansion compelling. As such, I've scrapped that idea.
Many many many thanks to raphiael for betaing and talking Magvel with me.
Title: New World
Game: FE8 and FE10
Word Count: 3802
Pairings/Characters: Latona/Lehran
Spoiler Warning: FE10 Endgame.
Warnings: Dark angst. Spoilers.
(“Be silent now and watch as I erase these things that confuse your simple heart.”)
The first thing Latona noticed was the stone jutting uncomfortably into her stomach. Groggily she curled her hand around its smooth surface, remembering. She had slept like a mother bird guarding her last child, this stone, the freedom of the people of Magvel.
She cracked open her eyes to the sight of the messenger reading a tome in the single wooden chair by the window. She had imagined divinity in regal coloration, but he came in monasterial browns, dusky wings and black hair. And yet his fragile grace was not human. When he descended before her at the forest's edge and gave her five glowing spheres with the weight of air, there was no doubt that he was of the gods - this was their miracle.
She gave an audible yawn to let him know that she was awake. He looked up from the pages and smiled. “Good morning,” he said, smoothing the pages as he closed the tome.
“Good morning, Messenger.” She yawned a second time. “You have stayed?”
“Yes. I am not needed in the heavens for now.”
She rose, her undergarments clinging to her arms with a hint of sweat. She ran her fingers through her iris-hued hair, freeing it from the disorder of sleep. As she dressed she said, “Now that we have a means of defeating the demon, we might make our way into the Great Forest. If Grado thinks it best.” The divine messenger's lips quirked in amusement.
They followed the dragon, Morva, one of the few who survived the demon's dragon purges. But Morva was silent and humble, old and somehow distant. Grado filled that void with his noisy charisma. He stood on podiums in battered cities and crowed promises of a new world, a free land. The people followed Grado, and it went straight to his head.
The strongest among them humored him. Mostly. Latona knew him longest - he came from a village not far from her hometown and they had joined at the start of their struggles - but she felt that she did not know him.
Still, they fought together for the last few years of hell that seemed to encompass her entire past. And now they might charge on the Demon King himself. “Things will be dangerous for you,” Latona murmured.
“You need not worry over me.” The familiar way he placed his hands on the tome - she wondered if the gods were learned in the creations of humankind. “You must focus on the battle before you.” He was not terribly laconic, yet he had a way of speaking while revealing nothing.
Straightening the front of her tunic, she carefully pieced together the question in her mind. “Messenger?” His chin resting on his curled hand, he focused his eyes upon her and gave a questioning murmur. “Why did you appear before me?”
“Your group has gone the farthest in opposing the Demon King. The gods smile upon your effort.”
Latona shook her head. “And yet... you did not hand out the stones yourself, or to Morva, but visited me. Why?” The messenger put his fingers to his lips, eyes calculating. “We owe our progress just as much, if not more, to Morva - and Grado - and Jehan, and Frei, Lia, Siegmund, Sieglinde... and the many whose efforts who could not have done without. And yet you sought me out alone.”
“Hmm.”
“Do the gods mean to deliver a task to me?”
“No...” he replied carefully. “You are true to your principles and wise in command. ... That is why. It was left to you to decide how to accomplish this task.”
This answer, too, struck Latona as evasive, but she accepted it with, “I am humbled.” Latona slipped each arm into her tunic and rose to take her weaponry. “And,” she said, “I am flattered by your presence, as well.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
Morva informed them that they would be headed for the Great Forest, and the temple therein where they would find the demon who reigned. Their band was in approval: the end at long last!
For the next few days they marched in their usual formation. Morva first, with his acuity of sight. Then Grado, and Frei - who would defer to no one - beside him, as well as Lia, who led her pegasus along the ground whenever she needed to avoid being sighted by the enemy. Next, the twins Sieglinde and Siegmund, with a weapon near one hand and the other joined. Then Jehan and Taizel, bickering about some detail of magic, Jehan's convictions against Taizel's studies. And then Latona, in the very rear.
That was the place of the healer, in the back, never one to raise her eyes to danger. She pursed her lips and remembered a time when they relied on her (and Taizel's) skill with magic against the cyclopes. Now with Jehan and his students in that regional art, a mixture of swordplay and magic, they needed healers more. Wounded pride would not bring Latona to the conceit of refusing that role.
And so she marched in the back of the elite team. At least, for this trip, the messenger kept her company, walking beside and slightly behind her, wings folded. Even if their conversation was always stilted by decorum, it was companionship.
Three days progressed in this way. On the fourth, worn by exhaustion, she said at one point, “And it was so difficult to learn light magic. Reading was forbidden; I learned by candlelight from an elder in the tailor's storeroom. And now it might be of no use after all.” The messenger turned his head to look at her, and before he could reply she hurriedly added, “Oh - I'm sorry, I should not trouble you with such things.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I encourage you to speak more freely.”
“It is not proper of me.”
“I would like you to,” he said, gently but firmly.
Latona lapsed into silence, her uncertainty so great that the messenger must have sensed it. He was divine, and she was mortal. And yet he ordered her impunity...?
After a period of such silence, the messenger spoke again. “Please,” he said. “I have decided. I enjoy your company and it pains me to make nothing of it. Let us abandon distant propriety for these last few days.”
Certainly, she could not refuse such a direct request. “Very well,” she said. “What would you like to talk about...?”
They slowly wore down the awkwardness between them. What was her favorite food? Bean porridge. Had he studied mortal magic before? Yes. What was her childhood pastime? Mending her family's clothes, if that counted.
“Do you have- no... What is your name?”
The messenger considered her with a soft gaze and something somber touched his smile. “Lehran,” he said.
Latona fed another log into the fire. “Another two marks,” she said. She glanced beside her. Lehran sat statue-still gazing into the campfire, all but hidden in the disarming velvet of bug song and earthy scents. Pondering. “I suppose you cannot share your thoughts?”
She caught Lehran's attention with that. His eyes flickered to her, again with careful calculation in his gaze. “There are many things I have not told you. Not all of it has been forbidden by the gods.” Almost resentful, as if to declare, I have my secrets like any other person. Latona steeled her gaze back to the fire. They might have grown closer, but it was still only a day, she reminded herself.
Several moments passed before the rustling of feathers drew her attention back to Lehran. “Should I tell you?” he said.
“If you wish.”
Latona thought at first that Lehran was disappointed with her lack of interest. Then he said, “Yes. I am too accustomed to keeping secrets.” Without a hint of sarcasm, “And of all people, it should be you. ...You remind me of someone.” The firelight lit half-moons in his eyes as his gaze flickered about Latona's face. “Someone whose spirit may have ceased to exist.”
“How can that be?” she interjected in a shocked whisper. Could death lead to nothingness?
Instead of his usual discretion, he murmured, “How can it be, indeed...?” He held his gaze for a few moments before looking back to the fire. “It may not be so. Her spirit might dwell inside you. That is my hope.” His body abandoned its wary posture; he leaned toward the fire as if curling toward its warmth despite the summer heat. “I loved her deeply.” Latona felt unnerved, and she too turned her eyes to the fire. “In fear I left her while she still had many years of life. In fear I erred for centuries. It could not have come with a greater cost.”
It felt like a confession - silently, Latona struggled to find a response.
After a pause, Lehran said, “Though the world has forgotten her, she was a heroine, as you are. She fought to save her world from chaos.” He rustled beside her, and when he spoke she knew he was looking at her again. “Like her, you are sure-hearted. I know you will succeed.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Even so. Would you let me fight?”
At this Latona's attention returned. “Fight? Against the Demon King?”
“Yes. Please let me lay my regrets at his feet. I will face him.”
“I... I would rather you not risk your sacred life.”
Suddenly, Lehran thrust his hand into the fire. She gasped and grabbed him by the elbow, pulling his arm away. “What are you doing?” she said loudly, momentarily disregarding the camp.
His hand was unharmed. With dark amusement, he said “I am not so easy to destroy.”
All at once Latona was conscious of her hands on his arm, the closeness of her body to his, and she let go, embarrassed. Taking a deep breath, she said, “If you wish to fight with us... I will not oppose it.”
“Thank you,” he said, soft and low. Something in her gut told Latona that she shouldn't let him do this, but she found no way to put it into words by dawn.
Latona thrust the stone in the air. Across the temple, four other stones shone in return. They hummed in strange harmony; she could feel it running through her bones. A memory flashed through her mind: Lehran saying, “You must not destroy his spirit, or another demon will be born. The stones are not only helpful. They are essential.”
The Demon King roared “What is this?”
With a horrifying thud, that vibration ceased. The temple went dark.
“Guard them well. Your task would be even more difficult without their might combined.”
She groped for the blessed staff on her back, trying not to panic as the stone clattered to the ground. The screams and cries of battle continued around her. Her fingers found its cold shaft and in an instant she seized it and held it above her head, willing magic toward its crystal.
Once again, she wished Lehran hadn't left. His demeanor told her that he didn't want to leave either. But he could not refuse an order. That must have been what it was. When a black crane with a red crest came to them, Lehran had turned to her and said, “I'm afraid things have changed. I must return.”
What more would a few hours of his company have given her? All the same she almost felt cheated. “Though I will miss your presence, I understand.”
He hovered for a moment as if considering what to say. He settled for a tender, “Good bye.” The gods' spirit bird blessed their weapons and they left.
Now she felt the strength of that blessing surging through her staff. When she opened her eyes again, she had all but raised the dead.
“Latona!” Grado, running toward her. She switched staves, eying the dark burn on his arm. “Look we don- fine, heal and listen. Siegmund fell, Sieglinde has his stone.” So abrupt, just like that. “We no longer have the edge of surprise-”
“Do you have a plan?” she cut in, lifting her staff from his mended arm.
“I have a plan,” he said just as impatiently. “You get in there and cast light in his face. Light magic, it hums like the stones right? Go. Taizel can handle your stone.”
It was a good idea. Grado had his flashes of brilliance. It would work, if she were willing...
Without a word, Latona dropped the stone into Grado's waiting hand. Wrapping his fingers around it, he said, “I'm sorry.” So different from the commander who had just given her the order.
“No. I agree with your plan.” She returned her staff to its holder and fumbled with the buckles about the book of light strapped to her side as she ran closer to the demon.
Grado had asked her to act as the decoy, she thought to herself. As bait.
She thought about Siegmund's abrupt death.
She thought about Lehran and his lifelong regrets.
She thought about the razed fields of Rausten and the names of those called to greater sacrifices.
Perhaps the battle muted more than just her sorrow. As she opened Ivaldi she was not afraid.
(“Never again will I allow myself to commit such atrocities. I will become a goddess to properly guide and protect my people. I will become perfect.”)
“I do not understand, Lehran. Are you not satisfied in my service?”
“Forgive me, my goddess. I cannot explain well enough.”
“I command you to make an attempt.”
“I... The matters are beyond counting. I do not mean to slight you, yet - perhaps at one time you would have understood yourself.”
“You try my patience. There is nothing I cannot know.”
“My mistakes. Our ruin was my doing as much as any other's. If I had not run, my children would not have had to suffer. The beorc and laguz would not have thought their mingling unclean. I dare to think... they may not have grown to hate each other. It was my weakness.”
“They have fought since I was named Ashunera. Their nature is no doing of yours.”
“It is true they had chaos within them. Yet that made them whole. It gave them courage and passion. It filled them with life, as chaos does fill them again..”
“Courage and passion are not needed. If they were of order alone, they would still defend their land out of duty. When Fomortiis is sealed, they will not war amongst themselves. They have grown in my image. The mistake of allowing greater chaos by Yune's erasure has been remedied. All shall be well.”
“My goddess... it is not merely that we watch them grow. Do you not miss their company?”
“Their company? I shall be fulfilled if my world does not war. With that and your company, I need nothing else.”
“...”
“Do you disagree, Lehran?”
“Goddess... I....”
“You are my favorite child. What troubles you? Speak.”
“... I have never been so alone.”
“You are not. I will be with you, always. I can see all the world. I can gift you the tale of any creature in this world. Will you hear one now? Of the girl you favored?”
“Please.”
“Very well. Their group charges into the temple. Many fall before the breath and claws of chaos before they are able to summon the stones' power.”
The flash of light had barely left her fingertips when the demon unleashed a furious stream of breath at her. Caught off-guard, Latona struck the floor in a cloud of acid. It burned her face, her neck, her hands, and the force rang through her bones, made them crack with flashes of hot pain.
On the hard stone floor. Darkness above. She laid there and tried to catch her breath. Everything stung at once and she couldn't seem to get enough air. Dully she registered a vibration in the air, a light illuminating the ceiling. If she were to die, it would have been for their success...
All at once, Latona felt something strike her - like a torrent of water had crashed into her and swept her into the sea. Just as quickly the feeling subsided. The pain lifted from her body and she opened her eyes to see who had healed her.
There was no one near her. Perhaps a powerful staff...
Is that better, maiden Latona?
Whose voice was that? It was... familiar. She struggled to sit and looked at the demon so near her, attacking their army with predictable movements as if he were a machine.
Poor girl, always overlooked. Only to be used as a sacrifice...
Her eyes settled on Grado, gesturing and shouting to the people around him, stone in one hand.
Who really keeps this army together?
She found Ivaldi beside her on the floor. Her fingers curled over its cover.
Why don't you show him the power he's ignored?
“You remind me of someone.”
She picked up the tome and opened it, her fingers running under the first line of the incantation.
No one will notice in the heat of battle. Then you will be remembered as the true champion of this war.
“Though the world has forgotten her, she was a heroine, as you are.”
Her lips and throat produced the familiar incantation. Magic gathered and swelled in the air.
Yes, claim your destiny from that fool...
“She fought to save her world from chaos.”
All at once she recognized the attack at her fingers and the ally in her vision. Latona hesitated and the spell dissipated into the air.
Now is not the time for second thoughts.
Grado's eyes met hers and widened with alarm.
“You are sure-hearted, as she was. I know you will succeed.”
No, it was not the time for second thoughts. She fought for her people. For Rausten. For Magvel - “Begone, demon,” she whispered.
Do you mean to turn your back upon limitless possibilities?
“You won't lead me astray. Be gone from this body, demon-!”
“In desperation, Fomortiis seeks refuge within the girl's body. She is strong of mind. She repels his spirit, and the warrior captures him in his stone. Their army defeats the demon's body.”
“... I'm glad.”
“It is a simple story. Even you must have known how it would end.”
“I thank you for telling me, my goddess.”
“Do the predictable acts of these creatures so move you?”
“Yes. I would like nothing better than to live amongst them once again.”
“So you have told me. I listened to your plea, and in fairness, I granted you a task to their world. You showed me that you cannot be trusted. You shall remain here with me. If it pleases you, I can copy their tomes for you to read while I sleep.”
“...”
“You have not yet answered, Lehran. I have blessed you with life like none other. Why do you seek to make your end?”
(“Death is all you've wanted since this started.”)
“He didn't make it.” Latona stepped into the main room with blood on her clothes and the smell of sick suffused into her skin. Siegmund and Lia had fallen in the battle, and now Taizel had succumbed to rot. Latona, still too numb to grieve, turned to Grado and said, “He wanted you to look over his homeland.”
“His homeland?” Grado echoed.
Latona nodded and spread a map over the table, the weave of the paper dimpled against her fingertips. “The strong-spirited southlands,” she said, tracing its edges. “East to the Tethys River. North covering the Adlas Forest. And up and about covering the Borgo Ridge. He wanted you to watch over it for him.”
Grado was momentarily silent. “I will. I'll make sure the academies and libraries prosper in the nation of Grado.” With a glance, he trusted Latona with his hometown. He stepped to the table and laid his giant palm over the map, spread his fingers across towns and rivers. “We should sit and settle this now. How we'll look after the world.”
“How should we decide?” Frei interjected.
“I don't think we'll disagree,” Grado said simply. He looked to Latona, respect in his eyes. “Latona?”
“The land about my hometown, Rausten. West to... the temple. South, to the range of Mount Neleras.” She lifted her finger from the map and chanced to look at Frei who stood across the table.
“The land where Lia and I were raised. North of the southlands as Grado described, and east to the Renais range.”
“Then my land is in the valley of the Renais mountains,” spoke Sieglinde. “East until the desert of the white dunes.”
“The desert is my home. My nation shall also contain the rest unclaimed: east to the coast, north to Rausten, as well as the lands north of the Renais mountains, west to meet Frelia.”
There came a sound from the shadows. Startled, they turned their heads to Morva, entering from his room.
“Oh,” Grado said. “Morva. We were debating rulership. We can start over -”
“I heard you,” said Morva. “I need no land. I will stay in the Great Forest and watch over the last of the demon's evil.” He glanced at the map and turned his eyes to Jehan. “I ask only one thing: let the Caer Pelyn range from under your rule.”
“Done.”
“Then we're agreed,” Grado said.
Latona turned to the door. To their questioning looks, she said, “Please give me a moment. I need some air.”
She descended the stairs of the inn and stepped out into the street. Word of victory had reached this town days ago, and now the villagers had returned to their daily concerns, bustling about with goods and children. A week before she had fought to free her spirit from a demon. On this day a woman complained about the price of flour.
Latona walked slowly along the road, catching fragments of conversations - bartering, gossip, children telling tall tales. This village would become part of her land. She would be a ruler. There had only been one ruler in mortal memory, and she would never look to him in example. They would be the first rulers of their kind, and knowing how to act seemed impossible.
At the end of the street, she paused by the forest's edge and turned her gaze upward. That was where she first became aware of the messenger when he had delivered the stones.
“My Gods,” she whispered, “I thank You. We could not have done this without Your aid: Your power - Your wisdom - Your love. We will never forget the help You have given us. I shall guide my country, and I shall lead them to Your light.
“Lehran - I hope I will deserve comparison to the heroine you once knew. As for us... the world will not be in such peril for as long as I live. I know the gods will not send you. Yet, though it may be in vain... I hope I shall see you again.
“Perhaps you can hear me. Perhaps you are watching. If you are, then please, don't be so sad. I shall think of you each night alongside the gods. If words are enough, I can keep you company forever.”