A/N – Hmmm…happy with the first part of this chapter. (The dream.) The second half I'm not really that fond of. I'm a little sketchy about what to do with the next chapter, but I'd like to announce that this fic isn't going to go on as long as I'd been expecting. After this, another three or POSSIBLY four chapters and then I'm done. It's been fun, though, driving Guy insane. Here's the next instalment of Double-Edged - enjoy.

'Chapter Five – All Mine'

Guy was having a terrible nightmare.

In the dream, it was totally black wherever he looked. He could see nothing, not even his own hand when he held it up in front of his face. There was a scent lingering in the air, though, a thick, musty odour that was obviously blood. The air's temperature was a bone-chilling cold, causing Guy to shiver.

'I have to get out of here,' He thought. He ran.

He ran and ran, never running out of breath, never slowing down. Everywhere he went he was met with darkness. The chill in the air was tailing after him, along with the scent of fresh, hot blood.

Finally the black gloom broke. Guy found himself running towards a mass of red smoke. An uneasy, frightened feeling rose in the pit of his stomach. It had been a while since he'd felt so scared. He was used to such an emotion, but the feeling hadn't visited in a long, long time.

He wanted to stop going. He needed to stop going. But he found that he couldn't, and he ran right into the scarlet fog, which grew more and more dense as he continued forward. Thick, smoky and bloody, it filled his lungs. It was disgusting. Guy wanted to gag and cough, but he found he couldn't do that, either.

But he could stop running, after all. His feet ceased to function, landing on the ground with a loud, resonating thud. And then, through the ghastly crimson smog, Guy could see.

Two tall figures emerged from the cloud of red. They didn't seem solid, as if beings formed of wind, blurred out and billowing, especially at the edges. Both were just a single colour, one silver and one gold, glowing like flames in the darkness. Neither seemed real.

The knot of terror in Guy's stomach tightened and he felt his face flush free of any colour.

The ghostly figures opened their eyes and glared at him. 'Eyes' was really just the closest word Guy could find. In reality, they were just gaping white holes, illuminating the figures' horrifying faces with an eerie glow.

Then each one raised an arm and pointed something at him – blades.

The blades were nothing like the figures themselves, they were sickeningly real, solid and sharp. Guy tried again to flee and failed, still unable to move. He was beginning to panic. He needed to get away from these people – if it were at all appropriate to call them people. They certainly weren't. They were just shaped as such. He had to get away.

There was an appalling moment of realization – he couldn't get away. If he couldn't run, there was no way. There was fear, and then there was pain.

He could feel the blades, the pointed steel piercing his flesh and drawing out an oozing stream of blood. One through his heart and another through his head. He screamed in agony. It felt all too real.

Then he woke up, sticky with sweat. Shocked, he shot up in bed and when he looked to his left he was met with unfeeling, hungry golden eyes.

"You are awake." Karel said quietly, not taking his gaze off Guy. He had been waiting for a while, just watching the kid. All the healers had retired to individual tents for the night, except for bishop Lucius, who didn't seem to like the idea of Karel alone with the injured.

Foolish of him. He should know that the sword-demon had no desire to cleave the flesh of the weak. What good would drinking weak blood do for the sword? None.

Guy, sweaty and panting, seemed to be avoiding his master's gaze. "Where…where am I?" asked the braided boy, "And why am I so sore?"

"You're in a tent set up for those gravely wounded in the last battle we fought." Lucius' voice rang out from across the tent, "You weren't my patient, Guy, but I heard from Priscilla and Serra about what happened to you. You're suffering from one particularly nasty sword cut and some burns and such from magic, but, with continued treatment, you should be fine in a few days."

Guy didn't respond to what Lucius had said as though Lucius had said it at all. He spoke to Karel instead.

"Master, I…failed." Guy said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You merely overestimated yourself." Karel hissed in response, "A silly, but common, mistake."

Yes, Guy had just been overestimating himself. But wait – wasn't saying so a bit like admitting that Matthew was right? For if Guy did believe himself to be another sword-demon, he was definitely overestimating himself.

No. According to Matthew, that wasn't the way Guy was thinking. Guy wasn't exactly thinking very much at all in battle according to the thief. Right now, though, he was certainly thinking, and he seemed like himself. A discouraged himself, maybe, but there definitely was no visible crack in his sanity.

"But Master Karel!" Guy cried, "Look at me! Lying here in bandages when I should have walked away from that battle unscathed!"

The swordmaster shot his pupil a silencing glare. "If you must believe that someone is at fault, then I am, as your instructor."

"But I can't let stuff like this happen to me! Not if I want to become the most powerful swordsman in Elibe!"

"Most powerful…" Karel mused, "Is that your dream?" He put one hand on the Wo Dao's handle, knowing all too well the consequences of such dreams.

"Y-yes…well, my goal, Master."

"Abandon it." Replied Karel.

"W-what?"

Karel didn't answer. He would rather leave Guy to ponder that one.

"Master?"

"…sleep now, Guy." Karel said it in such a way it bordered on being an order. Karel had nothing more to say to the boy. It was late. He was wounded. He needed to rest.

"Eh?"

Karel's only response was to place a rough hand on Guy's shoulder and push him onto his back. When Karel removed his hand, Guy blinked, shut his eyes, and rolled over.

The sword-demon turned on his heel and started to walk towards the exit. He was halfway out the door when a strange sound urged him back. Unsure why he was reacting this way, he returned to Guy's bedside. The strange noise had only been the boy snoring. He was fine.

'Do we all look so innocent in our sleep, even those whose hands and soul are tainted and stained with a lifetime's worth of blood?' Karel wondered as he watched his young apprentice sleep, so blissful and so calm.

His apprentice. His student. Guy was his. It had such a powerful impact on a person, for such a small word – his. Guy was his.

All his.

End Chapter-

A/N – Well, that was a little weird. What did you all think? I'm asking for your honest opinions, people. Any kind of review is accepted. Thanks for reading and sticking with me this far. Can't say for sure when the next chapter will be out, but I hope you enjoyed this one. Bye for now!

Review responses:

Fire Fanatic – Oh? Do I have someone else addicted to MxG? Welcome to the club. Glad you liked my fic. It seems a lot of people have been complimenting my descriptions, thanks!

ShadowAngelUmbreon – Hmm…I pondered Karel being the oldest, and then just springing on his family after inheriting the Wo Dao, but rather preferred the version I ended up using. Karel's past was a lot of fun to work with, since the game only really tells us a tiny little bit. (See the Karel/Karla supports.)

Mewlon – Yeah, Rath/Guy is a good one too. Another obscure FE slash fan, whoot!

Jinn the Master Sage – Whoops! Fixed that typo. It was supposed to be 'with'. Thanks for pointing that out to me.