Of Swords and Claws

Draknal: Hey guys. It's been a while I know, and for that I am sorry. Hopefully most of you read the author's note that this chapter replaced. My work schedule is something fierce and I get little time to write as it is. When the contract comes to an end that will change, but who knows when that will be? As it is, I've scraped enough collective time together to bring you this! It's a bit of a long chapter, so I hope it will suffice as an apology for the unforeseen delay this time around.

I would like to address something that a few people have mentioned to me; the progress of the coupling/romance in this story. Let's look at this. We have two individuals with different races, backgrounds, and personalities. They aren't exactly the soft and cuddly type (don't even think of pointing out Lethe's laguz form, I will cuff you), and are strong willed individuals. They are more focused on the fight ahead of them, and the duty they must see through. I can't see a "love at first sight" thing working for them in any way whatsoever. However, by developing the bond of camaraderie they share, as well as their mentor/pupil bond, they can work towards the relationship being developed, albeit at a slow and steady pace. It's getting there folks. Trust me. I love romance, and I wouldn't dream of keeping it from you in this story. Just have faith and stay the path.

Okay, that rant's done. Um… forgive me if there are grammatical errors or other mistakes. I haven't had the normal amount of time to proof-read my work. I'll do that once I have a bit more time on my hands. Probably this upcoming weekend, as I have work tomorrow and Friday, so don't feel the need to point such things out. I'll take care of it, I promise. And let me say this, I will definitely be doing everything in my power to get the last few chapters out to you as quickly as I can. Why? Because I am really having fun writing the fights with the Black Knight and Ashnard. Those chapters are going to be seriously entertaining. And the characters themselves give me so much to work with. It's going to be great.

Oh, and yes I know that when laguz transform their eyes change color as well for some reason. I'm making an exception to that, for cats anyway. Anywho, on with the show.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem or anything therein pertaining to it, only the plot of this story and whatever else I make up.

Last Minute A/N: This is a doozy of a chapter. If you aren't up for reading it all in one go, don't. Just take it in pieces. Oh, and I've been trying to upload this chapter ALL day but the servers have been down with an Error 503 message. Hence why it's so late in the day. Anyway, Merry Christmas and enjoy!

Chapter 9: Charge! (Part II)

-Previously-

"You had me worried there for a sec Mist," started the blue-haired youth. "I guess it's a good thing we decided to keep Shinon around huh?"

The Valkyrie broke into a fit of giggles. "Uh huh. See, he's not so ba- Ike look out!"

-Presently-

The swordsman turned with barely a fraction of a second to spare. Bringing his weapon up into a defensive posture, he felt a massive muscled form slam against his blade, its claws flashing out repeatedly in an attempt to lacerate the beorc it had targeted.

Mist had seen the tiger laguz crouched and ready to pounce from the ledge above them. Her timely warning had more than likely spared her brother a gruesome and no doubt quick death.

One of the feral beast's claws had met with Ike's blade, the steel of the weapon stopping it dead in its tracks; the other struck the young general's shoulder guard, the metal shrieking in protest against the strength behind the deadly natural weapons of the tiger.

Ike was thankful for his change in weaponry before the start of their assault. One thing he had found when attempting to wield Ragnell in a training session was that the blessed weapon did not lack for weight. To help build up the strength necessary to wield the holy blade, the Lord had opted to set aside his Regal Blade for now and instead use a heavier Steel Blade. It weighed almost as much as the sword of Ashera, so it would suffice for the time being.

-Flashback-

Pulling the golden blade from the ground, Ike passed it slowly from one hand to the other, testing its weight. He needed to become proficient in wielding the weapon with only one hand. It wasn't a mild interest or a hobby for his off time, but something that needed to be done. If not, it could be the difference between life and death when confronting the Black Knight.

That monster was capable of wielding the blade that was in every way this weapon's twin, and with but one arm. He was strong, in both skill and physical power. That was undeniable. The simple fact that the man had killed his father, Greil, was proof enough of that. In order to stand even a fraction of a chance against the Rider of Daein, he too would need the strength and ability to wield Ragnell with but a single hand.

Ike had no delusions about the duel that was to come. It would be a fight to the finish. There would be no "draw" and the Black Knight would not allow him to walk away once more. Two would enter and only one would emerge victorious. But there was so much more riding on this than simple victory. His life wasn't the only thing he would be fighting for. The victory of the Crimean Liberation Army, the success of Princess Elincia, revenge for his father, the life of his sister…

He would receive no mercy and no quarter. In return, the blue-haired avenger would have to be willing to do the same. Not that that had ever been in question.

The fight would be a serious matter, the most important one of his life. It would be ugly, and the son of Gawain knew it. He would have to bleed and sacrifice for his victory against such a foe. As such, he was aware of the fact that he'd need every advantage he could get against the dark armored General.

If one of his arms was knocked out of commission and he was only capable of wielding Ragnell with two hands, he'd be done for. He would be sluggish with but a single arm. One wouldn't even be able to call it a fight any longer at that point. It would be folly, and a slaughter.

'I won't let that happen,' scowled the young Lord. Settling on using his right hand, Ike set the armament in a posture that placed it in front of him, angled slightly forward. His left arm remained parallel to the ground, out a few inches from his side and ready to help with counter-balancing the weight of the blade.

A quick hop forward started his practice routine, followed by a horizontal slash to his right. Dropping low and using the momentum of his swing to his advantage, he spun once and continued through with a backhanded diagonal slash.

He paused for a moment, halting his movements. The blade's weight wasn't too bad when used to make attacks flow from one right into the next, but sudden changes in direction meant that the momentum and mass of the sword would work against him.

'I'll have to work on that,' mused the general of the Crimean Liberation Army.

Ike had come to the decision that Ragnell would not taste Daein blood until he faced the Black Knight. Instead he would have to opt for a different weapon to use in combat; one that was similar in weight to the blade he held currently.

"I wonder if we have any Steel Blade's left in the supply caravan?" he pondered, receiving no response to his query in return.

Lunging into a thrust, the training session started anew.

-End Flashback-

The Lord grit his teeth as the beast's full weight finally impacted him, his legs giving out from the hundreds of pounds bearing down upon him. He could feel the air leave his lungs as his back slammed into the ground.

"Brother!" shouted Mist, her steed defying its rider's will and sprinting away from the threat that had arrived, its survival instinct in full drive. Try as she might, there was no way to assist her sibling without dismounting her spooked horse, which would likely result in her own injury.

One paw remained on the young beorc's shoulder guard, its claws still scraping against the metal. The tiger snapped its jaws towards the sword wielder's neck, but rather than flesh, its fangs only met his blade. His defensive maneuver had saved his throat, but left the creature's other paw free to slash at his chest. The armor held, that time…

He could see the insanity dancing in the once normal laguz's golden eyes, no intelligence to behold, only madness and bloodlust.

The beorc kicked with his right leg, his steel edged boot meeting the underbelly of the mad laguz. It grunted in response, resulting in an exhale of foul air that wafted around the edge of the blade that held its jaws at bay. For a moment, the blue-haired youth thought he might retch. It smelled of blood and carrion…

Ike felt his strength beginning to wane, his arms slowly lowering towards his body, the beast's mouth coming closer as well. Whereas the cat tribe was built for speed and agility, the tiger tribe was built for pure, unstoppable power.

'I'm not dying here!' growled the mercenary internally. But what could he do? Overpowering his opponent was out of the question.

He found his query answered when an orange blur slammed into the feral one from above, no doubt having followed its same strategy of pouncing from the overhanging ledge.

The tiger found itself dislodged from its prey, hooked claws tearing a chunk of leather from the beorc's chest armor, revealing the ring mail underneath.

Rolling over and springing to his feet, Ike looked towards where his attacker and savior had both gone. He spotted a familiar orange cat squaring off with the feral one, which now sported four long gashes across the left side of its face. Also notable were several puncture wounds in the beast's back, oozing with red life-blood. A result of Lethe's initial pounce no doubt.

The two laguz began circling one another, each looking for an opening to exploit. It ended abruptly when the tiger charged its smaller adversary, claws extended and jaws wide open. With a powerful leap the violet-eyed feline avoided the attack all together, her own claws digging into the creature's back once more as she used it as a springboard.

With grace that only a cat could possess, Lethe performed a mid-air flip with a twist that landed her next to her commanding officer. The blue-haired avenger watched his companion's acrobatics with silent awe. A flash of light returned the laguz to her humanoid form a moment later, her blade in hand.

"I thought I smelled a feral one skulking around somewhere nearby," she remarked, before smirking at the mercenary beside her. "Having trouble, beorc?"

"Ha," he huffed, dry humor evident. "We'll see how well you fair when a seven hundred pound beorc falls on you from thirty feet up."

Lethe barked out a laugh, finding the mental image amusing. "The day such a large beorc catches me off guard will be the day I give up fighting."

The jibe was meant in good fun, and both persons were well aware of it. Ike used the momentary calm to observe his companion. He could tell she was breathing harder than normal, no doubt having overexerted herself in her earlier ascent of the mountain. In addition, how quickly had she needed to move to intercept the feral one in time? It was unlikely she would admit to tiring.

"So what's our plan?" he asked, eyes shifting back to the now recovering tiger, his weapon set in a defensive posture.

Her answer to his query was blunt and to the point. "Simple. I kill it."

He looked over Lethe's haggard form once more. Clearly she was tired, but her pride wouldn't allow her to acknowledge that. If she went at it by herself in her beorc form, all she would do is place her life in unnecessary danger.

"Not alone you aren't," contested the Lord. "You're in no shape to take on a feral one by yourself."

Any protest the violet-eyed laguz was about to make was silenced by movement from her crazed kin. With deadly grace the tiger began to circle its prey, moving smoothly and with purpose, hoping to find an exploitable flaw in the defenses of its adversaries.

Ike and Lethe set themselves back to back, their intention being the prevention of allowing the beast an opening to strike.

"Looks like you don't get a choice in the matter now," commented the blue-haired avenger, eyes following the creature as it passed in front of him.

The response he received came in the form of a hiss as Lethe set herself in a neutral stance, ready to attack or defend on a moment's notice. Her tail whipped back and forth quickly, an indication that she was tense, and for good reason. Fighting a feral one while not transformed was an unfavorable match after all…

The sound of displaced dirt and gravel was the only warning the two humanoids received when the mad beast finally charged. It came from Lethe's side with the intent of bypassing her and striking at Ike's unprotected back.

In response the female laguz unleashed a powerful horizontal swing of her blade, the strike aimed low as to take out the tiger's legs. At the last second it used its powerful hind legs to leap over the attack.

Moving to recover, Lethe watched as her companion spun and lashed out with a kick towards the creature's head. His steel-toed boots would more than likely do a fair bit of damage, or at least disorient and daze the feral laguz long enough for them to capitalize on the advantage.

Again the tiger dodged, lowering its body under the attack just enough for it to feel a slight breeze from Ike's leg passing over it.

Now the positions of beorc and laguz were reversed. For a split second the Lord and tiger sat with their backs to one another. Each acted immediately, with Ike pivoting on his left heel and drawing his blade back for a stabbing thrust. At the same time the crazed monster leapt straight up. Using its powerful back legs, it kicked off of the son of Gawain, its claws digging into the beorc's side as it propelled itself away from the retaliating human.

Staggering back with a grunt, the leader of the Crimean Liberation Army grabbed his now injured left side. 'That's going to bruise,' he frowned. 'I'm lucky that didn't shatter any ribs.'

His ally was all ready in front of him, set in a guard stance to defend her disoriented comrade.

Thankful the beast had not kicked him towards the ledge of the mountain path, Ike reoriented himself and assumed his previous stance.

"You can still sit this one out beorc. I can handle this on my own," chastised Lethe with a hint of teasing.

The avenger shook his head. "I need to pay it back for that last hit."

Grinning at the stubbornness of her friend, the violet-eyed laguz took slow steps backwards until she and Ike were side by side, each with weapons raised.

"Ready?" inquired the Lord.

The feral one let out a low growl as it crouched down.

Ike was met with a scoff of indignation. "Please, you had better lead beorc, or you won't be able to keep up."

Madness clouded eyes passed from target to target, attempting to determine which to kill first. The human. Yes. That one. Its mind made up, it charged.

"Now!"

Three bodies were set in motion in less than a fraction of a second.

Two blades flashed out in unison, one blocking a set of claws while the other struck home.

One body pitched forward and collapsed in a heap as its hind legs gave out, its tendons cut.

The feral beast let out a pitiful yowl as it lay crumpled on the ground, its body unable to respond to its own will. Ike moved to finish the creature, but was stopped by his companion.

"Let me," she offered.

The beorc gave no resistance, simply allowing her to approach the downed laguz.

"Better to die by my hand than be left to madness," she muttered, drawing back her weapon. One clean blow ended its life.

She stared on as the light faded from the creature's eyes, silence her only companion in that moment. Yet another life claimed by the sick machinations of Daein beorc. 'Rest now brother. I'll see that the humans responsible for this pay dearly.'

Returning her weapon to its sheath, she turned and made her way back to her companion.

"You see, I was more than capable of handling it on my own," grinned the female laguz as she came to a stop in front of the avenger.

She opened her mouth to say more but was cut off as Ike seized her by the waist with one arm and swung her so that the shapeshifter found her back against a wall of rock, their positions reversed. She was now between the mountain and her friend.

Being in such close proximity to a beorc, especially in a position that could be mistaken for an intimate one, was something she would never get used to.

"What is the meaning of-!"

THWUMP!

The cat laguz found herself interrupted once more as something massive impacted behind Ike. Peeking over the Lord's shoulder, she found the spot she had previously been standing in now occupied by a large ballista bolt. Her gaze cut from the projectile to her ally.

"You okay?" he inquired, genuine concern evident in his tone. His eyes were still glancing over his shoulder at the large weapon, even as he addressed Lethe.

Extricating herself from the mercenary leader, she stepped out from the safety of the cliff face and scanned the ridge for where the shot may have come from.

"Just fine, beorc. That shot was nowhere near me," she said. She paused momentarily, inwardly fighting over her next action. "…But thank you."

The cat girl moved to continue her trek up the mountain when the scent of copper caught her attention. Blood.

A few quick sniffs pointed her in the right direction. Marching up to her leader, she continued to test the air with an occasional sniff. Such actions earned her a questioning look from the avenger.

"You're injured," deadpanned the feline.

He could have rolled his eyes, but opted not to. "It's just a scratch, nothing to be concerned about."

He made a move to bypass the laguz, but was stopped as she grabbed hold of his arm, keeping him locked in place. Prodding him with her free arm, she took satisfaction in seeing him flinch when she located the wound.

"You beorc are soft," she chastised. "Too easily injured, but I commend you for attempting to ignore the wound and fight on."

The wound in question was on his left side, a gash from where he had been kicked by the feral one. From the looks of it, it was relatively deep.

Reaching into the satchel she kept tied around her right leg, Lethe drew forth a vial and tossed it to the beorc. The blue-haired youth recognized it as an Elixir, a much more potent form of Vulnerary.

Removing the stopper from the glass container, Ike knocked back the contents and offered thanks to his ally. He didn't so much as flinch as the healing effects of the potion took hold and began mending his injured flesh. Patting the general area of his wound, he found smooth skin had been knit together, leaving not so much as a blemish. The pain from the depth of the injury had been reduced to a dull ache, something he was more than capable of dealing with.

Offering a thankful nod to the laguz, he tossed the empty vial back, which Lethe returned to her satchel. As one, the duo continued their trek up the mountain, hoping to meet up with their allies from the other path at the junction ahead.

X-x-X-x-X

The mounted contingent of the mercenary squad had substantially less trouble than their other allies, the speed at which they were ascending the mountainous terrain playing an important role in the matter.

The Daein troops above had attempted to stall their advance by letting loose another boulder down the mountainside. The tactic failed spectacularly once more as Calill made short work of the rolling obstruction in a manner reminiscent of the previous one.

Quickly realizing that a change of tactics was in order, the Daeins resorted to meeting the mounted charge with troops of their own. As such, the black-armored beorcs had set up a blockade at the point where the two mountain paths converged. If they allowed the Crimeans to pass that point, it would be a straight shot to the top of the mountain, and stopping the mercenaries would become nigh impossible.

Geoffrey and Titania were heading the charge, flanked on their left and right respectively by Keiran and Oscar.

"I would have thought these dastards would put forth more effort to encumber our advance!" called Keiran, taking note of the lack of enemies they had encountered thus far.

"Well you know what they say, 'Never look a gift horse in the mouth'," countered Boyd, both thankful and slightly disappointed they had yet to encounter much in the way of foes so far.

Thump!

A javelin embedded itself slightly ahead of Geoffrey's mount, which maneuvered around the obstacle with ease. The Crimean general's eyes were immediately scanning the sky.

Shint!

Titania flinched as another earthbound projectile fell upon their group, this time skimming her shoulder guard, the smooth, curved armor doing its job of deflecting the lobbed spear's blade.

Rolf, who had been holding on to the deputy commander of the Greil Mercenaries, released his grip and pulled his bow from his back. Notching an arrow, he looked skyward, and after a moment of searching located the target that had attempted to strike them from above.

'Gotta concentrate,' frowned the youngest member of the army. Closing one eye, he lined up his target and drew the bow into primed position.

'Don't let your surroundings distract you. It's just you and the target. Make sure you do it all in one swift motion. Notch, prime, fire. The longer you hold it, the more strain you put on yourself and the more unsteady your aim becomes.'

The words of his mentor rang in his ears as he lined the shot up. Loosing the projectile, he watched it sail skywards, impacting the underside of a wyvern a moment later. The beast gave a sudden jerk, clearly not expecting the pain that had visited upon it. Its unfortunate rider hadn't anticipated the move and found himself thrown from his airborne steed.

Rolf opted not to watch as the man fell to his demise, instead burying his face in the back of Titania's armored cuirass. Enemy or not, he was still uncomfortable with the idea of taking a human life, even as far as they were into their campaign. He would do it, but only because it was necessary, not because he enjoyed it.

Boyd gave a low whistle in appreciation of the shot. "Not bad, short stuff. Looks like you do know how to use that thing after all."

The young archer immediately turned his gaze on his brother. "More than you do!" he retorted, sticking his tongue out to emphasize his superiority.

Boyd laughed good-naturedly, just happy to be able to get under his brother's skin and get him on a different train of thought. He knew his youngest brother cared nothing for violence, let alone killing.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we have enemies closing in on us," called back Geoffrey, indicating the mounted charge coming their way from the barricade up ahead.

Indeed, a number of Cavaliers and Paladins had been dispatched to intercept them and forestall their advance.

A ball of searing flame flew from behind the Crimean soldier and slammed into one unfortunate Daein, resulting in both rider and steed igniting in a blazing inferno. Apparently Calill had opted for a pre-emptive strike.

As they neared their adversaries, Geoffrey chanced a glance over his shoulder at his passenger. The Sage caught his eye. "Something you want to ask hun?" she inquired.

"Do you know how to handle the reins of a horse?" he asked.

He could practically feel the blonde caster rolling her eyes at him. "Please. As a member of the upper class and sophisticate, I should think so."

The aquamarine-haired Paladin retrieved his Brave Lance from his back, bringing it to bear.

"Why do you ask?" inquired the delicate caster, arching an eyebrow for emphasis, even if the target of her query couldn't see the action.

The Daein troops would be on them within the next moment. Holding his lance with one hand, he passed the reins of his mount back to his passenger. "Please take over from here."

No sooner than she had taken hold, did Geoffrey leap from his steed to skewer an opposing rider with an airborne thrust of his lance, dismounting the adversary in the process. As soon as his feet touched down, the Crimean soldier ripped his weapon from the fresh corpse and spun around to face the charging forces before slamming the head of the weapon into the ground, the spear angled to the left side of the path.

One horse found itself unable to dodge the manmade obstruction, its leg catching the shaft of the weapon and causing it to trip, sending steed and rider tumbling end over end down the mountain path.

Pulling his weapon free from the earth, Castle Delbray's former commanding officer ducked underneath the strike of a lance aimed for his chest and retaliated with a blow from the blunt end of his armament, dismounting the passing rider. Giving the downed rider no chance to recover, he spun his weapon around and slammed the bladed end through the man's chest. Chancing a glance, he looked to see how his allies were fairing.

One rider had the misfortune of attempting to strike at the second in command of the Greil mercenaries. Titania made short work of such foolish notions, her Silver Axe tearing into the armored rider as the two passed one another. The man slammed into the ground hard, his steed continuing on without him. Bracing himself with one arm, he made an effort to get back to his feet. This promptly ended when Titania's passenger put an arrow in the man's back.

"Excellent shot Rolf," noted the Paladin.

The youngest member of the Greil mercenaries smiled at the praise. He was glad to be able to prove that he could pull his weight and contribute just as much as any other member of the squad. Reaching into the quiver on his back, he drew and notched another arrow, ready to keep fighting.

He spied his brother, having leapt from Oscar's horse about the same time Geoffrey had dismounted his own, caught in between two Cavaliers who were circling the mountless Warrior.

Boyd kept his face neutral as he felt a lance glance off his shoulder pauldron. Two on one wasn't normally a preferential fighting ratio, let alone when your opponents are riding mounts. For the time being he could only attempt to strike at his opponents when one wandered too close, but that was far from often thanks to the reach of the weapons they wielded.

'I need to even this up,' he frowned, knowing that it would only take a lucky shot from one of them to put him out of commission. Turning his back fully to one of his opponents, he was willing to bet they'd attempt to capitalize on the advantage.

Sure enough he could hear the second soldier snap his steed into a full sprint towards his unprotected back while he did his best to fend off the Daein in front of him.

Waiting until the last moment possible, Boyd spun around and dropped to his back, swinging his axe up in the process in a two handed grip. The weapon embedded itself deep in the charging steed's chest. A bit too deep, unfortunately, as the green haired combatant found the weapon ripped from his hands as the horse continued forward, collapsing into the dirt and flinging its rider off in the process.

He had no time to rest when the first Cavalier appeared over him, urging his mount to stomp the weaponless fighter. The equine reared back and slammed its hooves into the spot Boyd had once occupied, the middle brother having only barely rolled out of the way. Scrambling back to his feet he dodged a close range stab of the rider's spear. He prepared another attack on the defenseless man.

Thwip!

"Gah!"

The Daein soldier dropped his weapon in shock and pain when an arrow embedded itself in his dominant arm. Not one to waste an opportunity, Boyd grabbed the rider by his leg and forcefully removed him from his mount. Being a close range fighter who also happened to excel in hand to hand combat, it was child's play to get past the downed soldier's defense and snap his neck.

Not sparing more time than was required, Boyd left the corpse where it lay and retrieved his axe. Glancing at his younger brother, he nodded once and offered a thumbs-up, one which Rolf happily returned, before re-assuming his sniping campaign.

Looking around, he could see the force that had been sent to engage them was mostly decimated. Oscar and Kieran were double teaming one unfortunate Paladin, Geoffrey had taken care of his share, and Calill was enjoying her ability to outmaneuver enemy soldiers and eliminate them at range.

"Heh, I wonder how Ike's side is fairing," he chuckled.

X-x-X-x-X

Jill Fizzart could feel sweat building up on the inside her gloves. She was nervous. Was she ready to do her part in this skirmish? Indeed. But the fact remained that the enemy commander was making his way toward her, weapon drawn and at the ready. He was a blonde haired man riding atop a large ebony wyvern. Black wyverns were rare, and very powerful. In fact, in Daein they were reserved exclusively for those in positions of command. They were a symbol of power, and the sight of one coming straight at her was definitely intimidating.

Her own mount crooned, as if trying to reassure her. Rubbing the scales on the creature's neck, the redhead reaffirmed her resolve. "You're right, we can do this."

Urging her wyvern forward, she took up her pole-axe. Hopefully her superior reach would give her the edge needed to defeat her airborne rival. If it came down to her wyvern having to duke it out with the enemy commander's, she knew it might not turn out in her favor.

"Ho, Daein commander. I am Jill Fizzart, and I would have your name before I strike you down," she announced as her opponent came to a stop, his mount pumping its large wings once every few seconds to keep itself aloft.

The blonde snorted derisively. "Fizzart? Hmph, so you're the daughter of that traitorous trash Shiharam hmm?"

The redhead's grip on her weapon tightened slightly, yet she held her tongue.

"Not surprising that you would turn your back on your country as well. It runs in your blood I suppose. No matter. Good riddance to the filth! I am Gromell, general in the Daein army and leader of the defense of this mountain pass as per his majesty's orders, not that you would know anything about that," supplied the general, getting in one last barb.

"If you seek to challenge me as an equal then know you will be found sorely lacking. I will clip your wings and laugh as you plummet to your death!" he cackled, urging his steed forward at the same time.

"You speak ill of my father, and of our duty. For that I will cut you down!" roared the Fizzart, her own wyvern surging toward its adversary.

For now she would prod her opponent and test his defenses. Lashing out with a slash from the pole-arm she wielded, Jill found her strike blocked expertly by the general, his own axe moving to intercept it.

She took a moment to analyze the weapon Gromell wielded. It was an axe, that much she was certain of, but it was larger than the standard steel or silver axe. It was no pole-arm however, being only half of the required length. Its handle was a copper color, which shifted into silver for the blade with gold inlay. All in all it looked like a large, slanted letter "T," with a nasty serrated edge hanging down from the front. Stranger still, it looked like there were marks of some kind inscribed in the blade of the weapon. They were numerous, but too small to properly observe while the weapon itself was in motion.

Withdrawing her weapon she pulled back on the reins of her mount, urging the reptilian flyer to circle around her opponent. Gromell's mount followed their move, refusing to present its back to its enemies. With a quick tug to the reins, Jill's mount pumped its leathery wings, propelling itself backwards as ordered.

Gromell followed after it, his beast storming forward with a roar. "Surely you don't seek to run so early into our fight do you?" taunted the general.

She gave him no satisfaction in a response.

The black beast snapped at the Daein defector, hoping to take a bite out of the female rider. Blocking the attack with her pole-axe, Jill's mount took the initiative and struck, clamping down on its adversary's neck.

The larger wyvern seemed to snort in contempt, pulling its head away from the Fizzart and lashing out with its claws, striking the smaller creature across its temple. The attack drew but a small amount of blood, the scales mitigating most of the damage. Gromell's mount however, didn't seem affected by the attack on its being at all, the only sign of the bite being a small section of discolored scales.

Moving his steed in slightly, Gromell struck out at the opposing rider. His attack was blocked easily by the haft of her weapon. This time the two wyverns matched each other's moves, their fore-claws entwining with the other's in a deadly grip, snouts lashing out at each other in an attempt to bite and inflict major injury.

The unfortunate part of wielding a pole-arm class weapon was that while it boasted an impressive reach, it had a minimum effective range, which Gromell had entered. Now the weapon was too unwieldy for Jill to expertly maneuver and attack with. At best, she was able to block strikes from the man's axe with the shaft of her weapon.

That was, until a forceful backhand strike from the blonde's axe caused her weapon to fly from her grip. Leaning back to dodge a follow-up strike, the redhead let loose a high pitched whistle. Her mount, understanding the signal, brought up its rear legs and struck at the exposed underside of Gromell's beast. Said wyvern grunted and quickly freed itself from the grip of Jill's own reptile, putting distance between the two.

'Good thing I brought a variety of weapons to this fight,' thought the Fizzart, retrieving a Steel Axe that was strapped to her beast's saddle-pack.

X-x-X-x-X

"Grr… this isn't going well at all," deduced the soldier Gromell had left in charge of overseeing the ground defense.

The sub-humans and mercenaries were still making their way up the mountain at an alarming rate. The barricade set up at the right path had just fallen. Their mounted units were on the move once more. And the group trudging up the left side was cutting down their men like so much wheat before a thresher.

"At this rate, they'll overtake our topmost defenses in only a few minutes," he growled. Looking overhead he observed the two dueling wyvern riders, his general being one of them. "Please hurry up and finish off that scum sir, we need you down here."

They needed to stall the advance. Siege weapons weren't doing it. Two ballistae and one of the stone throwers had been taken out, all thanks to those damn sub-humans! The two hawks and the remaining cat were moving with impunity and causing no shortage of grief for the artillery operators.

He singled out a nearby pikeman. "You, soldier! Get to the storage tent and retrieve the Light Runes. And be quick about it!"

The man saluted before running for the indicated tent.

The Sniper signaled for the remaining ballista to fire down on the advancing forces.

Thud.

"What the-?"

The siege operator's question was cut short as the taut drawstring became severed at one end. The piece released its stored up energy in the form of severe whiplash, the rope snapping out and sweeping up two of the ballista crew members, sending them tumbling over the side of the cliff the weapon was perched on.

The two remaining soldiers looked at each other, then their superior officer.

"What the hell just happened?" demanded the Sniper, storming over to investigate.

'Ballista don't just damn well break. Certainly not ones made by Daein!'

"S-Sir…" pointed one of the two still living crew members.

Embedded in the wooden frame of the ballista was a small knife. Reaching over, the officer pried it free from the wood. "A knife? Impossible. The strength and skill needed to make such a throw would be…"

He tossed the weapon aside. It didn't matter. "You two, move your asses over to the stone thrower. Keep it protected at all costs. And take as many pot shots as you can at the mercs down bellow," he ordered, indicating the bows both soldiers were equipped with.

"Yes sir!" they acknowledged in tandem.

He watched the two archers depart for their objective before turning back to the supply tent. "Where the hell is that fool? He should have been back by now."

Growling in annoyance he stomped his way over to the tent and threw open the flap. The man he had sent earlier was standing over the chest the runes had been stored in, arms supporting him as he leaned over the various items.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" the Sniper demanded, irritation obvious in his tone of voice.

The man in question offered no response. He simply continued leaning over the chest.

Marching over to the subordinate, he grabbed the soldier's shoulder and pulled. The Daein toppled backwards, revealing lifeless eyes and a large bloody smile carved across his throat.

The officer stumbled back, visually disturbed by the realization of what had happened. "W-What the he-"

Schlick-

A hand over his mouth and a knife through his side quickly quieted the worrying man.

"Be silent," commanded a soft, gravelly voice from behind. "Your time is done."

The knife was withdrawn and then planted into his chest, a clean kill. All went dark for the man.

Volke laid the man down next to his other victim.

Closing the supply chest, the thief turned assassin casually made his way over to a large burlap sack tucked off into a corner of the tent. Opening the container, he took note of dozens of small pouches filled with gold. Pocketing a few, a fee for his services of course, he re-sealed the storage item and slipped out of the tent ready to sow further panic in the camp.

Moving to a separate tent, the assassin paused to the left of the entrance and listened for any motion inside. He could hear the hushed voices of two soldiers, sentries for this tent no doubt. Pulling out one of the bags of coins he had taken just moments ago, he tossed it to the ground with enough force to open the pouch and send its contents spilling, directly to the right of the tent's entrance.

An armored head poked out a second later, wondering what the cause for the sound he'd just heard was. Glancing at the spilled contents he bent over to retrieve the currency. Volke capitalized on the man's mistake, slipping his arm around the man's head and giving it a jerking twist. A satisfying snap let him know the soldier wouldn't be moving again.

He allowed the body to hit the ground, alerting the other guard that something was awry. Drawing his dagger, the professional assassin spun once and slammed his dagger into the entrance flap of the tent in a reverse grip. The guard who had been approaching said flap caught the weapon with his neck as it pierced through the canvas flap. He fell a moment later, gurgling as his life blood spilled out, staining the ground of the mountaintop.

Volke peered into the tent, scanning the interior to ensure there were no others lying in wait. The coast clear, he hauled the two deceased combatants in by their legs, leaving them in a pile in the corner.

The first thing he noticed was the sheer size of the tent. There was plenty of open space and only one bed present. It wasn't a barracks, that much was certain. Several large tables were in the center of the room with a desk near the back. There were also a few storage chests. More than likely, this was the enemy commander's tent, hence the armed guards. Moving to the desk, he quickly found he was correct in his assumption, thanks to a set of documents labeled "orders."

Pulling on the first drawer of the desk he found that it stubbornly refused to comply with his wishes. A sigh of mild irritation escaped him, but he was not deterred. Reaching into the sash at his waist, he removed a smaller Stiletto blade. Carefully he inserted the tip into the locking mechanism. A little wriggling, some finagling, and a final application of pressure convinced the lock to see things his way.

Opening the now obedient drawer, the mercenary spied several pieces of enemy intelligence that would more than likely be of interest to the leader of the Greil Mercenaries, as well as that of his laguz allies. Placing the documents safely within his black high-collar coat, he closed the drawer and checked the remaining ones. Each opened without resistance, containing nothing more than blank papers, ink, quills, a whetstone, some vulneraries, and a few scraps of food. Nothing of importance.

With nothing else of interest, he exited the tent and collected the spilled coins he had used as a distraction. No point in wasting good money after all…

X-x-X-x-X

Ike huffed as he continued climbing the mountain path that would link his group with their allies. After the attack from the lone feral one, resistance had been relatively light on his side. There were a few soldiers here and there, but nothing that offered a solid threat.

"It would seem their last ballista is down," noted Soren, his scarlet eyes scanning the mountain ridge for enemy soldiers. "Or perhaps they have run out of ammunition."

The blue haired lord nodded. "Yeah, looks like it. I haven't seen them take any shots recently."

'For all intents and purposes it should be a straight shot to the top now,' he deduced.

A screech from above drew the group's attention. Two hawks quickly descended upon gathered beorc, transforming with twin flashes of light to reveal the humanoid forms of Janaff and Ulki.

The two Phoenicis avians dropped to the ground, giving their tired wings a chance to rest. Janaff's breathing was slightly heavy but he was otherwise no worse for wear. With Ulki it was more difficult to tell. The stoic bird kept his emotions and expressions in check, leaving very little to draw information from. The only indication he might have been tired was the accumulated sweat on his brow.

"Report," ordered the tactician of the group.

"Sheesh, hold on a second," groaned the older of the two fliers. "At least give me a chance to catch my breath."

Ike swore he heard Shinon mutter something that sounded like "useless featherhead."

Ulki chose to speak in his partner's place. "The camp is in disarray. Their siege weapons are down and the command chain is falling apart."

"Who took out the other stone thrower?" inquired Mist, keeping focused on the path ahead.

"Ranulf," supplied Janaff, able to speak now thanks to his moment of rest. "He and Volke are really causing a stir up there."

Soren rubbed his chin in thought, mentally going over map he had drawn up and presented before the battle. "All that should be left now are a few stragglers and their commander. Orders, Ike?"

They were nearing the top of the path that would intersect with their allies. The avenger could see them in the distance, set in a defensive pattern overlooking both paths leading to their position.

"Largo, you hold back here and watch for any soldiers we might have missed. The last thing we need is a group of enemies at our backs. We'll send Calill back to assist you."

The berserker nodded and remained behind while the rest continued to advance.

"Mist, you move ahead and see if any of them need healing. We'll be right behind you."

She urged her steed into a gallop as it took off ahead of her group to meet up with the others.

"Lethe, are you good to transform again?" he asked, looking his female companion over.

"Of course," she said. "Just tell me where you need me, beorc."

"Head in to the camp and meet up with Ranulf. I'd rather not have him there on his own. Volke is probably sticking to the shadows and striking where he can instead of fighting out in the open."

A brief glow of light shrouded the laguz from view. It dissipated a moment later and her animal form took off to meet up with her fellow Gallian.

"Soren and Shinon, you two are with me until we reach the camp. I'll break off with the others and head into the main camp. You two try and hit the enemy commander from range if you can. Janaff, Ulki, you two can either head back to our camp or you can stick with us. Just keep behind us if you plan to stick around. Don't needlessly endanger yourselves," ordered the son of Gawain.

"I think I'll stick around," said the eyes of the Hawk King. "Just give me a minute or so to rest a bit and I'll be back in the air in no time."

Another minute of steady ascent put Ike's group with their allies. He could see that Mist was busy tending to an injury on Boyd's left arm, much to the fellow mercenary's chagrin. He claimed that it "wasn't that bad" and didn't require treatment.

The avenger took note of Shinon's wandering eyes. They were scanning the mounted group, as if looking for something. Wait-

"Where's Rolf?" asked the redhead, looking to Titania. After all, he had been with her at the start of the charge.

Oscar opted to speak in her stead. "He remained behind a short ways. He's getting in position for our strike."

The older mercenary didn't quite understand the significance behind the statement, but apparently Ike did, as noted by his nod.

"Is everyone here ready to take the main camp?" inquired the blue haired lord, looking at the assembled combatants. There were no objections, so he continued on. "I want the cavalry up front. Get in there hard and fast, and head for the back of the camp. I don't want any of their troops making a run for it and possibly alerting more Daeins ahead that we've taken the pass. The rest of us will sweep in behind you and clear the interior of the camp."

The gathered persons all understood what needed to be done.

"All right, let's move out!"

They commenced with their charge, though something felt off to Shinon…

X-x-X-x-X

Jill frowned in annoyance as her steed once more attempted to grapple with Gromell's. It was clear the larger beast possessed the advantage in terms of strength. Wyvern to wyvern combat was ugly, there was no sugar coating it. Without the use of pole-arms or ranged weapons, it wasn't rider versus rider so much as it was steed versus steed. It became a slugfest. The basic idea was to eliminate the rider first, then deal with the mount. But without the necessary reach, it was impossible to take out the other rider without having to get in so closer. Then you were left vulnerable to attacks from the opposing wyvern itself.

So here she found herself locking axe blades with Gromell while their wyverns attempted to tear and gouge each other in whatever manner possible while at the same time keeping themselves airborne.

"Give up and accept your death!" cackled the blonde, pushing down on the back of his axe with his free hand for more leverage. "You stand no chance against one of Daein's elite generals! My wyvern will tear your winged lizard asunder!"

The young Fizzart growled in agitation, pushing back for all she was worth against her enemy's weapon. She was losing the contest of strength slowly but steadily.

'Damn it… I need to break this stalemate or I'm done for,' groaned the redhead internally. Her only hope for that was for her mount to break its deadlock with Gromell's, and that didn't appear to be happening any time soon. Barring that, outside intervention would be welcome.

She almost jumped in surprise when a javelin flew past the general's shoulder, missing only by inches. A roar alerted her to her ally's presence.

"Damn, looks like I missed. Lousy depth perception…" mumbled Haar as he readied another throwing spear.

Gromell growled in irritation as he broke off from Jill to assess the new threat. Wait… he recognized that man!

"Haar!" he cried. "You bumbling, lethargic cretin… so you've also turned your back on Daein have you? So be it! I'll deal with you once I've finished with this turncoat."

He dove once more at Jill, who by this point had replaced her Steel Axe with a different one, this one a deep blood red with a serrated edge. She urged her mount forward, readying herself to end the general.

Haar launched his remaining javelin at the enemy commander's back, hoping to take him by surprise. The man's wyvern had other plans, deflecting the projectile with a bat of its tail.

"Well so much for that," groused the cycloptic flier. He drew his own weapon, a Tomahawk.

Jill pulled the reins of her beast sharply to the right just as the enemy was upon her. Her wyvern banked hard to the side, letting the opposing beast dive past them. The Fizzart progeny used the opportunity to slash at the underbelly of the pseudo-dragon. It retaliated in kind by using its rear claws to strike at her armored back.

She grunted as the impact jostled her, but was otherwise fine. Strange… the beast hadn't let out a cry of pain. And her weapon had no blood on it. How…?

"A Dragon Axe? How clever of you, girl! Sadly, such a weapon will have no effect on my wyvern!" taunted Gromell as he pulled his beast around to make another pass. He pointed to the black band that was fastened around his creature's throat. In the middle it bore a large ruby gem of some kind. At present it was glowing eerily, the color standing out against the black scales of the beast.

"All black wyverns in Daein are given a Full Guard to bolster their defenses against their natural weaknesses. Your meager efforts are in vain!"

'A Full Guard amulet?' pondered the redhead. 'Damn… as long as that defensive magic is in place I won't be able to cause substantial damage.'

She readied herself as her foe once more charged her. The dark wyvern roared before colliding with the smaller beast, its claws lashing out to strike both rider and mount. Jill slammed her axe into Gromell's once more, sparks flying as the metal weapons clashed once more.

Yet the blonde general wasn't grinning this time. Now he appeared focused on the task at hand. Perhaps Haar's appearance had made the flier begin to worry? After all, he was now at a numerical disadvantage.

Speaking of the one-eyed wyvern lord, his own mount slammed into the Daein reptile, its size easily comparable to the other. Gromell was forced to break off from Jill, bringing his mount around to deal with the new threat.

The Daein general's mount was greeted with a slap to the head from the tail of Haar's wyvern, its head snapping back from the force of the attack. It roared in defiance, charging the opposing beast.

Haar's mount snorted in obvious disinterest. The creature before it was young and overconfident. It would be shown the error of its thinking, believing itself to be on the same level as he. Striking out with its talons, it seized the opposite creature by its claws and pumped its wings once, pulling backwards and bodily throwing the younger wyvern over its shoulder, sending the reptile and rider flipping end over end through the air.

Gromell's wyvern righted itself after a few flips, its head shaking once, twice, to stop the world from spinning. It roared in rage, hoping to charge its foe once more. It would regret not taking it so seriously…

A tug on its reins stopped the draconic being from taking action. "Not yet," mumbled Gromell. "We need to remove the weaker link. The redhead, get in close to her. I'll handle the rest," he ordered, a devious smile coming to his lips as his grip on his axe tightened.

Once more the beast roared, a challenge being issued to the other two wyverns in the vicinity. Jill's mount answered with a cry of its own. Haar's however, couldn't be bothered. It rolled its serpentine eyes, unimpressed.

Gromell and his mount charged once more, heading straight for Haar's beast. The one-eyed soldier frowned as he watched the man approach. Such a simple attack couldn't be all that he was going for. It was too… predictable. This man wouldn't have been given such a position of power if he were only politically connected. It was clear he possessed combat prowess.

'So then why…?'

The younger wyvern dove below Haar's at the last moment before banking towards Jill. Gromell drew his weapon back, a maniacal grin on his lips as his axe began… glowing? No, sparking!

"Jill, wait!" cried the older defector.

The Fizzart youth could only frown questioningly as her axe collided with her enemy's. Any chance to voice a question was gone when the runes of the blonde general's weapon ignited a fearsome, blinding blue. Electricity poured from the axe into Jill's own weapon.

White hot pain erupted in the redhead's being. Her body felt as though it were on fire. All other sound had been drowned out by a terrible, deafening noise, a high pitched whine that pierced her very skull. Everything grew white, blindingly so, before abruptly going dark. Then she knew no more.

Haar watched in horror as both Jill and her mount cried out in pain. He had immediately moved to pursue Gromell when the man had bypassed him, but he and his warning proved to be far too late. The Fizzart's scream tore at his very being. Her wyvern convulsed and bucked, its natural weakness wrecking havoc with its body. Then it simply ceased. It was as if the hand of the Goddess had ever so slightly pushed the wyvern back, its body leaning backwards at so shallow an angle. The beast listed to the side…

…then it plummeted, taking its unconscious rider with it.

"JILL!"

He pulled the reins tight and snapped his beast into a dive. It needed no prodding, seeing its ally falling. His desperation only grew when the other rider was dislodged from her beast, each body falling in a different direction.

They had fallen half way to the mountain top when Jill's mount returned to the waking world, shaking its head once to clear its vision. The pseudo dragon snapped its wings out a pumped hard several times to right itself. But it soon realized something was wrong… The weight on its back was lacking. Where was its rider? It looked around, spotting its mistress as she continued to fall. It had lost too much ground. There was no way it would save her in time.

The beast let out a low croon for the impending loss of its rider. Then that mournful, pitiful sound turned into something else… a fierce roar of anger. It craned its neck skywards, towards the other wyvern. The dark one that had hurt its mistress.

"Faster," Haar urged. "Faster Heath! Now isn't the time to be lazy!"

His wyvern roared in response, being quite aware of how critical their time was. The black drake had drawn its wings in and was diving for all it was worth, achieving speeds that disagreed with the size of the beast. It could feel its bones thrumming in protest, the sheer amount of force being exerted on them almost too much for the mighty wyvern to bear. But they were nearing their goal.

A blast of electricity soared past them, dissipating a short distance later with nothing to conduct it. The Daein deserter chanced a glance over his shoulder, his lone eye spotting Gromell not far behind.

"Do not turn your back to me, traitor! Or else you will end up like that Fizzart trash!" he taunted, axe charging for another strike.

"Ignore him!" Haar called to his mount. "You keep heading for her. You don't stop until we get her, no matter what. You understand?" he ordered, narrowing his eye at the back of his mount's head.

The aged wyvern grunted in response, not needing any instruction on the matter. It grimaced internally however. Its old bones weren't going to be the same after this. Not for a while anyway. Even worse, it could hear the other beorc's mount getting closer. They were going to take a hit, there was no avoiding that.

"Fine," growled Gromell. "If you won't face me then I'll take away the reason for your fruitless flight!"

He straightened his arm bearing the Bolt Axe, switching targets from Haar and his beast to the focus of their efforts, the still falling redhead. "In the name of our king, die traitor!" he cried.

A shriek of pure, raw, anger answered his cry. A shadow over his form was all the warning Gromell received before a jade wyvern slammed into both he and his mount, hard. It had literally landed upon its target from above, immediately setting to work. Its front talons gripped the larger wyvern's neck, tearing where it could. Its rear claws dug into the hind quarters of the black beast. Jill's mount also eyed the opposing rider, its long neck arcing so it could catch the surprised general in its maw. Long, sharpened fangs clanged against the dark chest plate of the general as it tried to end the man.

Several of the deadly fangs had found purchase against the Daein's armor, digging into flesh. Yet he did not cry out in pain. The blonde general merely grimaced. "Get off of me you foul lizard!" he roared, igniting his axe once more and slamming it against the reptile's jaw. The effect was immediate. It screeched in agony and released both mount and rider, toppling through the air as it tried to shake off the effect of the electricity.

That was all the time Haar had needed.

He had managed to maneuver his steed under Jill, the redhead still unaware of the world around her. "Ease up, Heath!" he called, stowing his axe in his saddlebag. Holding his arms out he gently caught the unconscious Fizzart bridal style, while simultaneously releasing the breath he had been holding. Drawing the young woman close to him, he kicked his beast lightly in the side with the heel of his boot. It knew that cue. Arcing up from its descent it pumped its wings once, twice, and was now in a safe glide.

"Don't ever do that again, Jill," he said to the unconscious woman.

'Your father would never forgive me if something happened to you. I'd like to be able to face Captain Shiharam in the next life with some pride.'

"DIE SCUM! You will not escape me!"

The Daein defector felt his lone eye widen in surprise. Out of the corner of his vision he could see Gromell, bloodied but still very much alive, mere feet from them in a dive, axe raised for a killing blow.

'There's no dodging this,' frowned the cyclops as he looked down at his charge. He made up his mind. Pulling Jill closer to himself he hunched over her and shielded her with his body.

A sickening crunch echoed through the air a moment later.

X-x-X-x-X

Rolf stood on the ledge he had selected for a waiting position. It was a small outcropping of rock that hung off the side of the mountain. It gave him cover from the enemy general above, who hopefully wouldn't spot him as he set up. Once his brothers were in position they would be ready to take down the enemy leader.

The signal had been discussed between them. Oscar would be the one to order it, meaning he had to be ready to respond at a moment's notice. In the meantime, the younger mercenary looked around to see what he could find in the immediate area. He opted not to wander too close to the ledge, lest rock crumble away and he with it. He could see the mountain paths they had traversed down below, and how they met up about three quarters of the way up the mountain.

A roar from above caused him to tense. Looking skyward he spotted the enemy general's mount crying out in victory, proud form displayed against the blue sky. The other wyvern, theirs, was retreating from the battle, heading back to the mercenary camp. He could feel his gut clench uncomfortably. 'Did we lose somebody…?' he pondered.

A set of other roars caught his attention. He turned his head in the opposite direction, to the east. He felt his stomach drop. Enemy reinforcements, and wyverns at that…

He brought his bow up while at the same time notching an arrow. Some of them had spotted him.

X-x-X-x-X

"Enemy reinforcements!"

Ike's head snapped around at Janaff's call. "Numbers?" he inquired.

The avian's eyes were narrowed, off towards a few black dots in the distance. "Eight wyverns. Five are heading this way. Three are going towards… something else down the side of the mountain."

Ulki's ears twitched a moment, seeking any additional information to offer their commander. "Whoever they are after has a bow. They just pulled back on the string."

The mercenary leader nodded. "Okay. Well we knew reinforcements were a possibility. We'll catch the bulk of them here. Soren, we'll have to rely heavily on you and Shin- Shinon! Where are you going?"

The redhead was all ready running out of the camp at full tilt towards where the other three wyverns were heading. "Shove it kid! I've got something else to take care of!" he called back, uncaring of what the other's thought about his declaration.

Ike could feel his ire rising, but did not give in to it. Instead he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Soren, it looks like you'll be in charge of dealing with the new aerial threat. The rest of us will provide what cover we can."

He turned to the two fliers still with them. "Janaff, Ulki, follow Shinon. Keep him from doing something stup-"

A screech from above stopped him mid-sentence. Eyes darting skyward, he beheld a sight he had hoped to avoid. "Damn, belay that! Run interference on that general immediately!"

The two Phoenicis natives acknowledged the order, taking to the air with a running start.

Mist followed Ike's line of sight, her breath leaving her in a shocked gasp. Their ally was injured, possibly worse. Wyvern riders didn't simply retreat. They were some of the toughest air combatants around.

Pushing away the concern she felt for her airborne friends, she watched her brother carefully. She understood his hesitation to reprimand Shinon. He was going after Rolf. 'Goddess knows what it might do to Oscar and Boyd if something ever happened to Rolf.'

Internally Ike sighed, both at the situation in the air and the development in progress involving the youngest of the "Three Brothers."

'I knew sending Rolf out there alone was a bad idea.'

Yet the younger mercenary had sworn that no enemies would spot him. He'd evade any fliers and await the signal for him to attack. Simple, clean, and quick, is what he had been told.

He was confident though, that Shinon would let no harm come to the younger archer. He wasn't blind. He'd seen the interaction between Rolf and the redhead that had drawn the ex-Greil mercenary back into the fold. Others wondered where Rolf had learned to pick up the skill of the bow so quickly, but Ike had a fair idea. It was no surprise really. The older mercenary had taken a shine to the youngest of the three brothers. 'I'll have a talk with him later.'

He could see the disapproving look in Soren's eyes, obviously believing he should have disciplined the Sniper for his insubordination. He shook his head towards the caster, letting him know to drop the issue. In return his friend let out a huff of annoyance. But the matter was done with, for now anyway.

X-x-X-x-X

He could feel his palms beginning to sweat. But he wouldn't give in to the pressure he felt building up in the pit of his stomach. 'Relax. Ignore everything but your target. One swift motion. No hesitation.'

The words of his mentor echoed in his ears as he released his first arrow.

The projectile flew straight and true, striking the rider of the middle wyvern heading his way. The man clutched the offending item protruding from him, as if to will the injury away. A second arrow joined the first, this one striking the man in the open area of his helmet. He jerked and fell to the side, tumbling from his beast.

In a single motion he reached back and pulled another arrow from the quiver tucked against the small of his back, knocked it back, and released again. This one struck another soldier in the shoulder. After the first man fell they had gotten it into their heads to split up and attack from separate directions. It wouldn't be enough to save them from the keen eye of the sniper in training.

THWIP!

The next projectile failed to make contact with an opponent. He would have to compensate for their movements and lead them. Was it him or were his nerves starting to get worse?

'They're getting awfully close…' noted the archer in his mind.

He fired again. This one struck a wyvern in its neck. It didn't go down, instead prodded on by its rider, pain evident on its reptilian features. Another arrow put a hole in one of the creature's leathery wings. Rolf released a breath of relief as he watched the beast wobble in the air, its balance gone with only one working wing. It rapidly lost altitude, going into an uncontrolled spiral toward its doom, carrying the unfortunate passenger with it. That left two.

They were nearly upon him now…

'I need to get some distance between us,' thought the bowman, looking for anything that might serve to obstruct their path to him. He took one step back and promptly stopped.

'No. I won't run. Not anymore. Shinon wouldn't run. He'd stand and take them down.'

He returned his bow to its firing position once more with purpose, his features set with determination.

'If I'm going to train you then you'll need to grow up Rolf. You'll be a trained marksman, a professional. There's no room for tears or uncertainty in this line of work. Hesitating could mean the difference between life and death. You understand?'

He remembered the words of his mentor from when he had first begged the elder bow wielder to train him. He had nearly been in tears when the man had refused to teach him at first. But after Shinon gave his lecture and asked if he understood what it meant to undergo the training, he had nodded, promising that he would take the redhead's words to heart and uphold them.

The jade haired archer drew an arrow from his rapidly diminishing supply and notched it. 'One swift motion, no hesitation,' he chanted in his head, ignoring the tension that was trying to break him.

The wyvern that still possessed a rider on its back would be his next target. The Daein soldier in question had pulled out a javelin and was preparing to release the weapon.

'Nothing fancy Rolf. When you need to dodge, do it quickly and with as little effort as possible. You'll find yourself winded if you run around too much. Just keep it simple and retaliate when you see an opening.'

The larger weapon came speeding at him a moment later. Without so much as flinching, the youngest Greil Mercenary hopped to the side, keeping his bowstring taught and ready to fire all the while. No sooner than he touched down did he loose his retaliatory strike. There was so little distance between he and his target that there wasn't a chance for the soldier to maneuver his beast away from the attack.

The arrow slammed into the reptile's left eye with a sickening squelch, penetrating so deep that only the feathers were visible. The pseudo dragon seemed to lock up, wings and limbs going rigid, head lulling to one side. With no upward lift to keep it aloft, it plummeted like a rock. To his credit the rider attempted to bail from his mount, leaping for the safety of the ledge that Rolf occupied. Half way to his destination, he was met with a second arrow from the archer, this one piercing his unprotected throat. The armored man fumbled through the air, grasping at the fatal wound. He would not reach the ledge…

Jade eyes widened in shock as the last of the wyverns finally reached him, slamming into the ground in front of him and releasing an ear-splitting roar. The beast snapped at Rolf, its long neck giving it extraordinary reach. He leapt back, dodging the first attack with ease.

A retaliatory arrow was batted away by the wyvern's claw as it reared back, almost appearing to stand on its hind legs. He knew what that meant…

The beast's head moved right so he leapt left. It was a mistake he would regret, the easily telegraphed move being a feint. He was met with a vicious head-butt, the creature's horns tearing into his leather armor. The force of the blow easily winded him and knocked him on his back.

The enraged reptile was on him instantly, jagged teeth coming in to tear the young marksman apart. Thrusting his bow in front of him, he staved off the attack by jamming his steel bow into the creature's open maw, preventing it from closing its mouth. It would not be deterred however…

Rolf had considered himself relatively lucky when compared to the other members of the Greil Mercenaries. He had never been badly injured in combat before. Normally his enemies didn't even get within twenty paces of him, thanks to the assistance of either his brothers or Shinon. The worst he'd ever gotten was a graze from an opposing archer.

The feeling of having razor sharp claws dig into his flesh was not something he was prepared for. He screamed… loud. Goddess… the pain was excruciating!

The wyvern would not be denied its kill. Though it couldn't eat the one that dare injure it, it could still tear it to pieces. It raked its claws across the beorc's chest again, the leather armor failing to hold against the onslaught. It would relish in the pained screams of the whelp.

It shook its head, working its jaw all the while, hoping to displace the metal implement that kept its mouth locked open. With a push from its tongue, the wyvern managed to spit out the steel bow, the item in question now covered in blood from where it had pierced the roof of the reptile's mouth. Growling in agitation it eyed its prey hungrily, bringing its head down to eye level with the archer, who stared back with steely eyes. He was scared, it could smell it. Yet he refused to show it.

It drew its head back to finish off the mousey beorc…

THWIP!

…only to receive an arrow to the forehead for its trouble.

It roared, more annoyed than injured, as the projectile hadn't penetrated very far into its scaly hide. It looked about for its assailant, yet found nothing, at least until it was too late to dodge.

Another beorc fell upon the wyvern's head, having leapt from the steep path above, a good fifteen feet no doubt. Its sight suddenly failed it as the human, armed with an arrow in each hand, slammed the pointed weapons into its vulnerable eyes, before leaping off.

The wyvern roared again in fury, clawing desperately at its face.

To Rolf, it almost seemed like a strange dream. His vision was fading in and out, but the pain was a constant presence. He had thought himself finished, yet it seemed he was not destined to be eaten. He could make out someone in front of him now, bow in hand, arrows drawn and ready to fly.

Two arrows pierced into the pseudo-dragon's neck simultaneously.

Rolf only knew of one person skilled enough to fire multiple arrows at once. He could feel tears threatening to break free from the corners of his eyes. 'Shinon… he came to save me….'

While the redhead might have put up a cold front around others, he truly did have a soft spot for his young apprentice. He had stuck back with him on multiple occasions to ensure his safety when Oscar and Boyd couldn't.

The elder archer was livid. No, he was beyond that at this point. He knew that Rolf would be in danger when the enemy reinforcements had suddenly shown up. But he had not expected serious harm to come to the boy. He had always been so fortunate in regards to combat, always coming away without major injury. But now, after hearing him scream like that… Rolf was his student, his responsibility, not that he'd tell anyone else that. Death would be too good for the wretched beast that he now faced. He released another pair of arrows, this time aiming at the creature's chest. It staggered back in response. He fired again, and again, and again, each set of arrows finding a different mark on the beast.

There was no grace or fluidity in this. Kill shots weren't being utilized and he was wasting arrows without caution, but he didn't care in the least. His only interest was in protecting his student and making the wyvern in front of him suffer.

Another dual shot flew from the bow, each arrow tearing through one of the beast's leathery wings. It screeched in rage, toppling backwards. Robbed of its sight as it was it couldn't have known the ledge it stood on came to an abrupt end behind it. The wyvern let out a shriek of surprise as the ground beneath its feet suddenly disappeared.

It flapped its shredded wings but to little effect. It would find no salvation this day. Shinon had made sure of that personally…

The redhead watched with but a small amount of satisfaction as the reptile fell into gravity's embrace, speeding towards its death at the bottom of the mountain. He was breathing hard, lungs burning from his earlier run to get there. Wasting no more time on the fallen creature he turned instead to his pupil.

"Shit Rolf, I thought I taught you better than to take on a group of wyverns on your own," he chastised, kneeling next to the green-haired youth.

His entire body was still wracked with pain, but it didn't stop him from giving a very Shinon-like grin. "But I got most of them…"

The older bow wielder was quickly working to undo the straps of his pupil's leather chest armor, being careful not to agitate the injury he'd sustained. "Dammit kid, this is no time for making jokes. What the hell was I going to tell your brothers if you'd gotten yourself killed?"

Rolf averted his eyes from his mentor, a sliver of shame crawling up his spine. "…I'm sorry. Thought I could get them before they reached me…"

The expert archer let out a "tsk" of annoyance. He hadn't meant to cow the younger bow user, only make him think on the matter so he could choose more wisely in the future. "Look, Rolf. You did well on your own, okay? Don't sit there feeling sorry for yourself. You took down two wyverns on your own. I don't think either of your brothers can say that."

He took note of how the younger mercenary's head was beginning to lull. He was about to pass out. Pulling out a vulnerary from the pouch at his hip, he popped the stopper off with his thumb and applied the healing mixture to the boy's injured chest, pouring only enough to coat the wound. He was relieved to see the concoction staunch the blood flow.

Moving the vial to Rolf's lips he ordered him to drink the rest, which he complied with easily. It looked as though he would pass out any moment now, no doubt tired from his ordeal.

"Wait!" cried the youth, attempting and failing to sit up. "The plan… have to be on time!"

"Whoa, hold on Rolf. Lay back down dammit. You're in no position to do anything right now."

The boy grunted as he tried again to stand, ignoring his teacher's instructions. "No! I have to… have to get my bow. …waiting for me. Triangle Attack…"

It seemed like he was fading in and out, fighting to cling to consciousness. 'Triangle Attack? Sounds like a name Boyd would think up,' noted Shinon.

He helped to steady Rolf as the stubborn archer staggered over to his discarded, bloody weapon. Picking it up and handing it to the green-haired mercenary, he frowned when he noticed the accompanying quiver was empty. Sighing in exasperation he reached back with on hand and offered an arrow from his own stock.

Rolf accepted the projectile with a nod.

"Make it count," ordered his mentor. "I've only got one left after that."

His earlier rage involving the wyvern was no doubt to blame for his current shortage of the specialized arrows.

Holding his young charge's shoulders to steady him, he looked up for the intended target. Sure enough, the enemy general's black wyvern was still in the air over the camp. It was being hounded by a two pronged attack from their two hawk allies. Obviously the Daein leader was in a rage of sorts, being cut off from his prey and unable to his either of the two avians around him.

X-x-X-x-X

"Hold still you Goddess damned rats with wings!" roared Gromell as he discharged another burst of electricity from his Bolt Axe.

Ulki easily dodged the attack, banking away from the stray magic. Janaff capitalized on the man's distracted nature, raking his talons across the armored beorc's back.

'I was so close… so damned close to finishing that other wretch as well!' he raged internally.

Pulling back on the reins of his mount, he watched as a fireball barely missed both he and his steed. "You'll need to do better than that you Crimean dastards!"

X-x-X-x-X

'That's the signal!'

Rolf, with his elder archer's assistance, managed to square himself enough to hold some semblance of balance. He notched the arrow, wavering slightly as his legs nearly failed him. Drawing back on the string he took aim at the target. He didn't release the arrow so much as the strength in his arm holding the bowstring failed him. He wouldn't even get the chance to watch the shot, for he had already passed out by that point.

Shinon however, did watch. The boy's arm had been shaking, his aim would be off. He hadn't drawn back enough, there wouldn't be enough power to get it to the target. He watched the arrow waver in its path, the apex of its flight being reached in only a few seconds. It would not reach its intended target…

X-x-X-x-X

Boyd let out a breath as he released the string on his bow. The arrow would easily tag the enemy's mount. After all, the birds were keeping its attention on them, leaving its back vulnerable.

Out of the corner of his eye he could make out Oscar, across the camp, loosing his own arrow. Now it would be up to Rolf.

One second passed, two…

…

Gromell tried once more to hit either of the targets that were now pestering him. Neither would hold still for him however. They were content with simply making passes by him, hitting him while he was distracted. They weren't even leaving any lasting damage. What were they hoping to accomplish? It was almost as if…

'It's a diversion!'

The realization however, had come far too late. Two arrows ripped into his mount's wings simultaneously. The leathery skin buckled and tore, allowing the cushion of air underneath to escape. His beast roared in pain as its attempts to keep itself aloft only exacerbated the problem, ripping the wound open even more.

'Impossible! The Full Guard should have-!'

His thoughts came to a grinding halt as he looked at his steed's neck. The dark band with the red Full Guard gem was gone…

'But how?! WHEN?!' he cried within his mind. When had they removed the protective charm?

An image of Fizzart's enraged wyvern came to mind, diving down upon he and his mount, tearing at its neck.

Any further action from his mount came to a stop when a third arrow arrived three seconds later, slamming into the underneath of his wyvern's jaw. Without the Full Guard to protect it, it easily penetrated the softer underside scales, going through the mouth and piercing up into its brain. The black beast let out several spasms before its body locked up and plummeted, taking its rider with it.

"No! NO! Damn you Crimean bastards! His majesty will see you suffer for this indiscretion! Your lives are forf-!"

Any further words were cut off as both rider and mount slammed into the ground on the far edge of the camp. It was unlikely the man had survived the fall…

X-x-X-x-X

Indeed the enemy general had been felled. The chain of command, for what little of the troops were left, had utterly failed. It was chaos and pandemonium throughout the camp. Cleaning up the stragglers had been but a simple matter.

'I'm amazed we managed to keep so much of the enemy camp intact,' noted Ike as he walked through his group's new lodging for the evening.

With the mountain pass secured, they had opted to have the army march through and occupy the base of the opposing side of the mountain. In the meantime, Ike and his group of Greil Mercenaries would remain up top and secure/use the enemy camp. The following morning they would quickly descend the rear of the mountain and begin their march again.

He stopped for a moment as he walked by the makeshift medical tent. Drawing the canvas flap back slightly he spied its four occupants. Two were lying in cots, wrapped in bandages. The other two were sitting next to their respective friend, watching over them in silent vigil.

He almost laughed. It was strange to see Shinon care about someone other than himself. Yet even so, the Sniper had carried his young student all the way back to camp. Upon being confronted by Boyd, the redhead merely passed off his load to the middle brother and went on his way. Yet apparently he was concerned enough to come back and check on Rolf.

In the other bed lay the most severely injured member of their group. Haar. The man had taken a devastating blow to his back, between his neck and shoulder. Gromell's axe had cleaved through the dark full plate armor the cycloptic flyer normally wore, biting deep into flesh. It was a miracle the man had managed to survive. For a while it looked as though he wouldn't…

Next to him sat Jill Fizzart, their other wyvern rider. The redhead looked beside herself with worry, even though she had been assured that Haar would recover with enough time. Judging from the look on her face, she was barely holding her composure. She sat ramrod straight in her seat, hands folded together in her lap. Ruby eyes moved to the tent flap, catching sight of her superior officer.

Ike nodded once to the young Fizzart. She averted her eyes, instead looking towards the ground. Embarrassed perhaps? Or was it shame? He felt he had bothered her enough, and instead opted to leave her to her thoughts. Closing the flap of the tent, the avenger once more continued through the camp.

…

Jill found herself thankful for the commander's understanding. It felt wrong to her, sitting there and watching Haar rest. He was one of the toughest soldiers she knew. A little lazy, yes, but tough. He was perhaps the reason that she was still alive at this point in time today, even before the events of the battle with Gromell. On numerous occasions the man had seen to it that if they were both present on the same battlefield, that she would be transferred to his command and kept close at hand. And she was grateful for it. But now…

'He was hurt because I was careless…'

She sniffed back a few tears that were threatened to overwhelm her as she thought back on the situation.

-Flashback-

Dark. Why was it dark? And why did everything hurt so badly? With a groan Jill opened her eyes, immediately coming to regret her decision. Burning sunlight greeted her, causing her to wince.

'What happened? I was fighting the enemy general, and then…'

Realization dawned on her. She'd been hit with an electrical attack, incapacitating her and her wyvern. Then she'd passed out. How had she managed to stay atop her mount?

It was then that she seemed to notice she wasn't atop her own mount. She was laying out, held by something. She could hear two distinctly different sets of wingbeats. That meant there were two wyverns. Judging from the happy crooning coming from her left, her wyvern was nearby and pleased to see her.

Opening her eyes slightly, squinting so that the light was not as harsh, she could make out a shadow over her, as if someone were leaning over her person. Was it…?

"Captain Haar," she rasped, finding her voice unsteady and dry.

The man made no move to acknowledge her.

Using a hand to shield her face from the sun, she could make out the individual above her a little better. She almost immediately wished she hadn't. Haar was indeed the man holding her in place. But he wasn't leaning over her, he was slumped over in the saddle, his head lulled forward. His one good eye was closed. From his mouth, a trail of red liquid seeped forth, covering the front of his armor. He was injured.

"C-Captain…?" she tried again, her voice quiet.

From below her, Heath rumbled out a soft growl. The wyvern knew its master had sustained serious injury.

"Captain? …Haar? Please answer me," she pleaded. Still she received no answer.

With no amount of ease, the redhead moved herself so that she was sitting up. Ever so carefully she adjusted her position so that she was facing her companion. Wrapping her arms around the male, she pulled him to her, praying that the worst had not befallen the man.

Her breath left her when her hand found an unnatural groove in the man's armor. It was rough and jagged, almost as if it had been sundered. She traced the groove with her gauntlet covered hand. Pulling the limb away she found it covered in blood.

That was enough. What little discipline she possessed at the moment snapped like a twig in a gale. She clutched the wounded soldier tightly, letting her tears run free. A wail escaped her. One of her best friends had perhaps given his life to save her. So distraught was she that she failed to notice his ragged breathing. It would only be later when they made it back to camp that she would discover her savior still yet had some time…

-End Flashback-

There were other things she could be doing at the moment, certainly, but they weren't worth her attention. Not as far as she was concerned. The man in front of her was her primary focus, and it would remain that way until he woke up, if he woke up. She owed him at least that much.

The other occupant of the tent was awake, as was evidenced by the conversation that was going on. It was quiet, so as not to disturb the sleeping Haar.

"You're off duty for the next few days until you recover. So take it easy will you?"

Rolf sighed, but relented in his pursuit of getting out of the medical tent.

"Relax, I already told you, your brothers are fine. They're busy doing other things around the camp. They'll probably be by later," reassured the redhead Sniper. The bow wielder made to leave but was stopped by a question from his pupil.

"…Did I get him?"

The man halted in his progress toward the tent flap, going stock still. "Yeah, yeah you did Rolf. You should be proud."

Once more he moved to leave, but again the young man in the bed behind him spoke up. "Hey Shinon, did you lose your last arrow?"

The redhead looked over his shoulder at the empty quiver he was carrying. "Huh, I didn't notice. Must've gotten careless on the way back to camp and dropped it by mistake. Oh well."

Giving the jade-haired archer no other chance to speak, he ducked out the tent flap, offering a quiet "Rest up and get well soon shrimp," as he did so.

-End Chapter-

Draknal: Whew… that was a lot of work. Let me say, it hasn't been easy finding time to write more of this story. I still have so many ideas floating around in my head. There was more I wanted to stuff into this chapter, but I felt this was too much as it was. Any more and it'd be a chore to read through. But with this chapter out, I feel a lot better now. I seriously hope you all enjoy the read, and please leave a review to let me know how I'm doing and whether the chapter lived up to your expectations.

Anywho, thanks for reading! I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Consider this chapter my gift to you. And a review from you would be a nice gift to me! Cheers!