gershom_onyx (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gershom_onyx) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2020-05-11 09:55 pm
gershom_onyx) wrote in 31_days2020-05-11 09:55 pm
Entry tags:
[05 / 11 / 20] [Fire Emblem Heroes] Trial By Tower
Title: Trial By Tower
Day / Prompt: 11 / A New World Fool
Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes
Character(s) / Pairing(s): Beruka, The Summoner, Virion
Rating / Warning(s): Mature / Violence.
Word Count: 920
Notes: Directly related to a plot point in the previous story.
The Summoner has a reputation for being inventive when it comes to his punishments, but there is one in particular that he favors in most instances, and the time has come for him to employ it upon his tactician.
* * * *
Virion reached for his next arrow, pausing to use his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. It did not escape his attention that his hands had started to shake. Despite that, he still smiled to himself, scanning the horizon for any signs of movement. He had lost track of the number of floors he had ascended, the number of enemies he had killed. Not that it mattered if anything waited for him on at the top. He was not expected to emerge from the Training Tower.
"I've tried every one of your plans," the Summoner had said, fuming, "and not a single one of them's worked! I know you're not Robin, but you're supposed to be the next best thing from the World of Awakening, and you've gotten me nothing." Then, the sentence: "You know what, Virion? Just go to the Training Tower and go up until you get killed. I'm done with you. I'll handle this."
And I did as you ordered, Virion thought, sticking to the cover of the trees that the illusions of the tower had conjured for him. Here I am, fighting for my life. Not the way I planned to die, I must say, but – His smile remained in place. – I still beat you, did I not? My effort to buy time for the others while sticking to the letter of your commands has been a success, and you continue to have no idea. Movement to his right as a black-armored knight stalked forward, his visage concealed by a heavy helmet.
"I see." He loosed his arrow, watched it ping off the black armor. "Perhaps this is as far as I can go, then, yes?" The phantom soldier already had his broad sword raised as he approached. "I suppose I can try to run, then? You have no objection to that?" He turned, but he could see another knight in similar armor approaching from the opposite direction. "I see. I believe the word for this situation is merde." He dashed to one side, away from both of them, dodging among the trees as he looked for egress.
Into the open. He had a speed advantage where the heavy knights were concerned, and it was likely to take them a little while to get through all those trees, but he also spied a mage a short distance across the field. "Ah. You, I can handle, I suspect." He nocked another arrow, and pain shot up his arms. "Or ... have I pulled one arrow too many?" The mage raised a hand, light flaring up as she chanted her incantation. "Then ... perhaps this is it?"
The wind picked him up as if he weighed nothing at all, slamming him into a tree. He could feel his bones give, and yet the pain seemed inconsequential compared to how tired he already was. He laid at the base of the tree, unmoving, feeling his life start to fade as he heard the knights emerge from the trees. What now? Will they hack me to bits, make certain I am dead? How does the magic of this place work, hmm? The two knights stood over him, looking down at him, but they did not raise their weapons again.
"You ... are not real," he rasped, his lungs compressed by the injuries he had sustained. "Do you ... know anything ... of pity?" The mage joined the knights. He could not see her eyes, only her nose and mouth, not enough to read her expression. "Then ... pity me. We will ... all fade ... together."
He closed his eyes. Anna, my love, it will be up to you to defend the children. I have done all that I can. He wanted to smile, did not have the energy. Given enough time, I have no doubt that I would have won you over. I can leave this world knowing that. He could hear footsteps approaching. Another phantom? No. Too much purpose. Who is – ? He opened his eyes, tried hard to focus, to see who it was who was coming to join his enemies.
"Don't talk." Beruka, and not a phantom conjured by the tower. The urgency in her eyes belied the practiced neutrality of her face. "I brought bandages and medicine. Drink it. Stay still." He had no choice but to obey, but, ready for death as he was, he was astonished that life was not about to leave him.
He drank down the medicine, pushing aside its bitterness to say, "I never thought ... I would be so grateful to see you, little one." He glanced at the phantoms, and they stayed where they were, unmoving, still looking at him. "But, if I regain ... my feet, does that not mean ... I will still be dead?"
Beruka shook her head. "If the Summoner won't bring you back, they won't kill you. It's the same reason I'm still alive." She produced another bottle of medicine from her belt. "Now, stop talking. Drink this and lay still."
"As you wish." The pain started to fade at the same time the spark of life flared back up in his body, and his mind immediately started piecing together the next stage of a plan that he had not expected to see fulfilled ....
END.
Day / Prompt: 11 / A New World Fool
Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes
Character(s) / Pairing(s): Beruka, The Summoner, Virion
Rating / Warning(s): Mature / Violence.
Word Count: 920
Notes: Directly related to a plot point in the previous story.
* * * *
Virion reached for his next arrow, pausing to use his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. It did not escape his attention that his hands had started to shake. Despite that, he still smiled to himself, scanning the horizon for any signs of movement. He had lost track of the number of floors he had ascended, the number of enemies he had killed. Not that it mattered if anything waited for him on at the top. He was not expected to emerge from the Training Tower.
"I've tried every one of your plans," the Summoner had said, fuming, "and not a single one of them's worked! I know you're not Robin, but you're supposed to be the next best thing from the World of Awakening, and you've gotten me nothing." Then, the sentence: "You know what, Virion? Just go to the Training Tower and go up until you get killed. I'm done with you. I'll handle this."
And I did as you ordered, Virion thought, sticking to the cover of the trees that the illusions of the tower had conjured for him. Here I am, fighting for my life. Not the way I planned to die, I must say, but – His smile remained in place. – I still beat you, did I not? My effort to buy time for the others while sticking to the letter of your commands has been a success, and you continue to have no idea. Movement to his right as a black-armored knight stalked forward, his visage concealed by a heavy helmet.
"I see." He loosed his arrow, watched it ping off the black armor. "Perhaps this is as far as I can go, then, yes?" The phantom soldier already had his broad sword raised as he approached. "I suppose I can try to run, then? You have no objection to that?" He turned, but he could see another knight in similar armor approaching from the opposite direction. "I see. I believe the word for this situation is merde." He dashed to one side, away from both of them, dodging among the trees as he looked for egress.
Into the open. He had a speed advantage where the heavy knights were concerned, and it was likely to take them a little while to get through all those trees, but he also spied a mage a short distance across the field. "Ah. You, I can handle, I suspect." He nocked another arrow, and pain shot up his arms. "Or ... have I pulled one arrow too many?" The mage raised a hand, light flaring up as she chanted her incantation. "Then ... perhaps this is it?"
The wind picked him up as if he weighed nothing at all, slamming him into a tree. He could feel his bones give, and yet the pain seemed inconsequential compared to how tired he already was. He laid at the base of the tree, unmoving, feeling his life start to fade as he heard the knights emerge from the trees. What now? Will they hack me to bits, make certain I am dead? How does the magic of this place work, hmm? The two knights stood over him, looking down at him, but they did not raise their weapons again.
"You ... are not real," he rasped, his lungs compressed by the injuries he had sustained. "Do you ... know anything ... of pity?" The mage joined the knights. He could not see her eyes, only her nose and mouth, not enough to read her expression. "Then ... pity me. We will ... all fade ... together."
He closed his eyes. Anna, my love, it will be up to you to defend the children. I have done all that I can. He wanted to smile, did not have the energy. Given enough time, I have no doubt that I would have won you over. I can leave this world knowing that. He could hear footsteps approaching. Another phantom? No. Too much purpose. Who is – ? He opened his eyes, tried hard to focus, to see who it was who was coming to join his enemies.
"Don't talk." Beruka, and not a phantom conjured by the tower. The urgency in her eyes belied the practiced neutrality of her face. "I brought bandages and medicine. Drink it. Stay still." He had no choice but to obey, but, ready for death as he was, he was astonished that life was not about to leave him.
He drank down the medicine, pushing aside its bitterness to say, "I never thought ... I would be so grateful to see you, little one." He glanced at the phantoms, and they stayed where they were, unmoving, still looking at him. "But, if I regain ... my feet, does that not mean ... I will still be dead?"
Beruka shook her head. "If the Summoner won't bring you back, they won't kill you. It's the same reason I'm still alive." She produced another bottle of medicine from her belt. "Now, stop talking. Drink this and lay still."
"As you wish." The pain started to fade at the same time the spark of life flared back up in his body, and his mind immediately started piecing together the next stage of a plan that he had not expected to see fulfilled ....
END.