Chapter Text
“This one,” came Lord Sombron’s voice, resonating from the depths of the throne room. “This Emblem is the one that I will entrust to you. It is the Emblem of Beginnings.”
My eyelids fluttered as I stared, calculating the sight before me as a small golden band drifted downward from my father’s towering figure and towards me. I reached out, unfurling my fingers to open my hand as the ring descended before finally settling into my palm.
“... What is the Emblem’s name?” I asked flatly, delivering every word in a meticulously measured fashion.
“Marth,” Lord Sombron replied, his voice laced with a low growl. It was difficult to tell if the venom that dripped from that name was intentional, as if my father held a special hatred for this Emblem, or if I was just imagining the increase in vitriol. My father was always painfully hard to read. My eyes flitted up towards his scaled face as I memorised the name spoken to me.
“I see,” I responded with a slow nod, my gaze fixating once more on the golden band still resting in my hand.
“Call it forth.”
At his order, I reached over to take the ring from my palm with my free hand, and uncurled my fingers, flaring them out. Unceremoniously I slipped the ring onto my left ring finger, sparing only a split moment to admire the way the blue gemstone in its centre glinted with the gloomy temple light.
My lips downturned slightly as I hardened my expression, not daring to show any mote of intrigue in front of my father. My tone was unimpressed and uncaring as I spoke the Emblem’s name.
“Marth.”
Without further delay or fanfare, a sharp fluctuation and twist of dark energy– angry, red and black– jolted through the air before me, giving way to the manifestation of an Emblem. Analysing him, he had bright red hair, pale skin, and closed eyelids almost assuredly hiding irises as crimson as the rest of him– common markers of Emblems summoned by the incantations of my father and his kin. A cape flowed behind him, settled around a set of pauldrons and wrapped over the top of an ornate breastplate and pinned together with a circular red gem. The tails of his tunic billowed gently with the slow bobbing of his form as he floated in the air, and at his hip rested an ornate rapier.
As I looked him over, my eyes trailed back upwards from his feet, towards his face.
His expression was unreadable, with eyes still closed and not a twitch up or down of the corners of his lips. Like all the other Emblems I had seen under my father’s command, he was devoid of any emotion. Truly a tool used for, and as a testament to, Lord Sombron’s seemingly unparalleled strength.
“Use him well,” Lord Sombron finally spoke again, immediately commanding my attention. Reptilian eyes peered at me, and his tongue flicked from between his fangs before retreating into his maw once more. “Do not disappoint me like so many of your other siblings have. To squander this gift is to squander your life.”
“Yes,” I said, closing my eyes as I gave him a bow, stiff and practised. “This gift will not be wasted. I will continue to enact your will.”
“Good. Now, leave,” he responded, his massive head pulling back as he stood fully tall. The darkness of his shadow draped over me as he hissed, his patience having immediately run out now that he had given me his order, and I straightened my posture before turning on my heel.
I walked towards the throne room doors, all the while still cloaked in his imposing shadow; with my back to him, the smallest of frowns etched itself onto my lips. The Emblem floated wordlessly behind me, the crimson glow of his corrupted energy the only light within the pitch of my father’s shade.
It wasn’t until I exited the throne room and the massive doors closed behind me that I finally slowed my steps, fully stopping just a short distance into the main hall. I turned my head, looking over my left shoulder towards the Emblem as he caught up and slowed to a stop just behind me.
His eyes were still closed, as I expected them to be. My fists clenched weakly at my sides and I lowered my gaze towards the dark stone floor beneath my feet as I wrestled with an ever-growing coil of unfortunate and inconvenient emotions writhing within my chest.
Lord Sombron may have called this Emblem a gift to me, but I knew better. Nothing that my father would give would ever truly be given as a gift, with no strings attached– no expectations to be upheld and surpassed. He had implied it himself, in fact– to squander this gift is to squander your life.
Without another word, I continued my way out of the temple, not even sparing a passing glance to any of my brethren that may have also been roaming the grounds. Over the years, I found it much easier to cope with existence here if I simply refused to acknowledge anyone. It was less difficult to fret over the loss of family if I didn’t know their faces or names. I had built up a wall between myself and them– towering, lonely, and unbreaking, much like the very temple I called home.
Home. Something about that word had always seemed woefully inaccurate. Why, I didn’t know– but there was an underlying tone, a feeling of warmth in that word that was nowhere to be found within the cold and brutal land of Gradlon.
That coil wrapped tightly again, choking my breath in my throat as I stepped foot beyond the castle doors. The stale air, bleak with the scent and threat of an inevitable death, disturbed the crossed bangs in front of my face, and my eyes shuttered once more. When the wind died down and my hair resettled, I looked out at the familiar desolate landscape before me. Wretched mountains, blood, and bone– the whole of the expanse of Gradlon, and a perfect mirror to the only life I had ever known.
My fists tightened once more, and the leather of my gloves groaned in protest as the pressure stressed the seams.
Now was not the time to be thinking like this. I could not think like this.
Behind me, that Emblem stood as tangible proof to the deep-seated expectation that my father had put in me that I was not defective like the rest. These intrusive thoughts– these accursed suggestions of emotion – were not going to serve me well if I wished to serve my father.
If I wished to live. If I wished not to die.
The ring around my finger practically squeezed around the digit, a solid force against the flexing and tightening of my hands. My attention flicked downward, towards my fist, and I scowled deeply.
“... Even after being given this, I am still wavering in my convictions,” I spoke slowly as I loosened my fists and bent my hand at the wrist. The ring– bright gold and blue, contrasting wildly against the stark black and red of my glove– glinted again in the light.
How long I stared at that ring, I was unsure; but there was something within the deep blue that had sucked me in and refused to let go. Not until I had ample time to straighten out my thoughts and return to the automatic, emotionless state that was expected of me.
Eventually, I raised my head and turned, looking towards the Emblem that had been given to me. Still emotionless and closed-eyed, floating and unbothered by the putrid breeze.
“There are tasks I must attend to,” I said flatly. “Come.”
Wordlessly, the Emblem trailed behind me as I trudged forth into the snow. The silence, though anticipated, stirred something painful within me that I refused to acknowledge.
Loneliness was an emotion ill-befitting a Fell Dragon.
Months had passed since Lord Sombron had entrusted me with the Emblem of Beginnings. During that time, I had slain many that had gotten in the way of fulfilling the orders my father had given me.
With every visit I made back to Gradlon Temple, I continued to ignore anyone there but my father. I would enter, deliver an important update– or more preferably, an Emblem Ring– and leave, with the Emblem he entrusted to me following right behind me.
However…
Even though I was determined to stay as ignorant as possible to the goings-on with my father, or my siblings, I could not ignore how each time I returned to the temple, the halls grew more and more empty. Over the years, it had gone from full of life and activity, to what it was now– a glorified mausoleum, home to none but the dead and those soon to die.
The haunting chattering of those terrible creatures– the Corrupted, my father so aptly named them– echoed down the grand hall as I made my way towards my father’s throne room. My steps staggered as my limbs stiffened and my chest constricted, and suddenly, the sheer weight of my mortality was brought to the forefront of my mind.
Those sounds were coming from the throne room, undoubtedly. I took this moment of hesitation to consider whether or not I should gamble with angering my father for being late; if there were Corrupted within his chambers, then certainly that would mean…
My heart hammered in my chest, and with each passing second, it grew more and more difficult to remain outwardly impassive. The strength of the walls that I had built around myself, the fortification that was necessary to survive in this existence, was struggling to stand up to my wild and cruel imagination.
Just because there were Corrupted within Lord Sombron’s chambers, doesn’t mean that they were there for– for –
The screams that pierced my ears crashed into me like a battering ram, collapsing the walls of my mental fortitude; cracks splitting through the stone as the screaming was coupled with sobbing and pleading of two young voices, and the grotesque snarling of the hungry monsters that my father no doubt promised a meal.
Nothing else existed at that moment– nothing. Just those screams, the cries. The smell of blood. The shaking in my bones, the lack of air in my lungs as my throat constricted. Those voices were ones that I recognized– a younger sister and younger brother of mine, crying out in pain from beyond the doors. For another chance. For mercy.
Behind me, the Emblem remained in emotionless silence. Whether his eyes were on me or not, I couldn’t tell– but with every nerve in my body acting on overdrive, with every fibre of my being screaming “run away; fight or flight–take flight!” , I certainly felt the sensation of a searing gaze on my back.
Fear was an emotion ill-befitting a Fell Dragon.
I cannot show fear. Emotions are– feelings are–
Another scream, cut short by the choking of their breath, brought me to duck my head and press my palms to my ears. My eyes screwed shut, and my jaw fell slack as I spent every bit of focus I had on my breathing.
Breathe– please, breathe.
The screaming stopped. The monstrous screeching and growling, too. All of it stopped, replaced with the eerie silence of an empty temple.
“S… stop shaking,” I whispered, pleading to myself with a voice hoarse and weak from the lack of breath. “Please. Stop being afraid.”
Fire burned behind my eyes as I swallowed, the newfound threat of tears only serving to send me further into a panic. Lord Sombron could not see me like this. I had to hide. Somewhere– anywhere –
Without even thinking, my feet moved. I stumbled and wobbled as I tried to run, turning corners and dodging around pillars and other furniture as I kept going and going. Further into the temple I went, far from his throne, with my lungs burning from exertion and terror. There was no destination in my mind, no goal other than to find somewhere that I could be alone. My eyes darted about frantically as I tried to scan my surroundings and make calculations far too quick for my traumatised brain to keep up with.
Just as I was coming round another corner, a flash of red shone in front of me, blinding me for a fraction of a second– just long enough to force my legs to stiffen and slide to a stop. For a moment I thought I was going to come face-to-face with the inevitable: my father, now keen to my weakness, ready to throw me into the arms of death–
When my mind caught up with my vision, however, what I saw before me was somehow more unexpected than my father was frightening.
Just a few short paces before me, the Emblem that had been entrusted to me was floating, looking directly at me. Even though his eyes were devoid of any light, dull and dead like a corpse, his gaze was piercing and had fully rooted me to the ground where I stood. Even if I had wanted to look away from him, I couldn’t. My eyes kept flicking back and forth between the pair in front of me, searching for something– anything –
Though no matter how hard I searched in the depths of those muted eyes, red like pools of blood, I couldn’t see what I was looking for. It was impossible to find what I so desperately needed in those eyes, for what I needed was something that this Emblem was entirely incapable of giving me.
Love.
Compassion.
Hope.
Please– someone, anyone –
I don’t want to die!
It grew more and more difficult to count the days that went by. Whether it had been months or years at this point, I couldn’t tell anymore. In the end, I suppose it didn’t really matter, either. As long as what I did was to my father’s satisfaction. As long as I managed to survive one more day– to prolong the inevitable just one more time.
I stood atop a ridge overlooking the cold, snowy canyons around my post. For some reason, I had felt a bizarre surge nearby just a short while ago– one that was unmistakably the presence of an Emblem Ring. That one would appear so suddenly and so close certainly piqued my interest, though the particulars surrounding the circumstances of its arrival did not really matter.
As long as I managed to get one more– to give my father what he so desperately desires– maybe then he would thank me. Maybe then I would be considered his child, his family, worth more than just a pawn to be thrown away at the slightest misstep.
Deep down, I knew these thoughts were naught but folly. There was nothing I could do to prove to my father that I was worthy of being his son. This had been proven time and time again, with every enemy I slayed, every Ring I delivered.
Yet I forged ahead anyway, denying sense in lieu of a hopeless fairytale.
The snow crunched beneath my feet as I trudged forward, more lifeless now than I had ever been. The weight of the deaths of my siblings, the family I endeavoured to distance myself from to save myself the pain of their inevitable demise at the hands of our father, hung from my limbs like shackles weighted by iron balls and chains. In my attempt to shield myself from their deaths, guilt now filled the void that grief once had.
So many of my siblings, slaughtered like worthless worms in so many unimaginably terrifying and cruel ways, without me ever even attempting to learn their names. A long time ago, I would have spent the time to meet them and learn who they were– to treat them like an older brother should– but now, my heart was cold. Not by choice, but by necessity. For survival.
With every step I took, every day I lived on longer than one of my brothers and sisters, my guilt only grew. Looking upon it all, I was nothing but a coward, selfishly cutting everything and everyone else away just so I could continue on living a terrible lie. I was just as defective as my father said they were– the difference was that I would find somewhere to hide all alone, to let the walls of the fortress around my heart crumble and be rebuilt beyond the reach of my father’s critical gaze.
A familiar flash of red pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned my head to the side, temporarily halting my steps as I knitted my brow in mild surprise.
The Emblem my father had entrusted to me had manifested of its own accord– something I had noted happening more often ever since the day of my younger siblings’ brutal deaths by Corrupted in my father’s throne room. The day I had panicked and ran, scrambling about like a rat in a maze, trying and failing to find any escape from the hell I had been born into.
As always, he said nothing to me– he simply hovered in place and stared into my eyes. By this point, however, I had realised something about this Emblem’s behaviour that had begun to stoke at the embers that had been dying out deep within my heart.
Every time I had begun to lose myself to despair, every time I wished for death to come and take me, he would appear– though not as my reaper.
But no matter how hard I looked into his eyes, I failed, time and time again, to see anything but a hollow gaze. Eyes deeper yet emptier than even the driest of wells, full of potential yet lacking any source of heart in which to tap into. My lips downturned and my eyes narrowed, confusion overtaking the previous dread.
“... What is it?” I asked, the normal flatness of my voice wavering just slightly under the pressure of the Emblem’s attention.
My question was met with a familiar silence and unblinking stare, and yet I could only chew at my bottom lip as I straightened my posture, maintaining eye contact with him all the while.
For a long time, I had considered the Emblem of Beginnings to be both a blessing and a curse– a boon and a bane. The level of trust my father put in me to carry such a powerful tool had both excited me and terrified me to my very core. For the moment that Ring had been offered unto me, and I slipped it onto my finger, my fate was sealed– a permanent bond was forged with a dreaded dragon that thought of me as no more than a weapon to point at his enemies.
I used to find myself struggling every time I saw that Ring in my peripheral vision. To me, the only meaning it held was as a symbol of the unbreakable hold that my father had on my life. It made me feel angry, hopeless– a despair felt so deeply that there were days that I wished for nothing more than to ask my father to take my life then and there and end my suffering. To send me into the afterlife with the rest of my siblings as the defect I was so desperately trying to hide being.
However, as time passed, every time that the Emblem within the Ring would manifest, I began to feel differently. A powerful sense of longing had blossomed within me, filling my chest in a way that made it hard to breathe.
Emblems were supposed to be the manifestations of heroes, loved and revered by those they saved. They were supposed to be the paragons of righteousness and the embodiments of the power of bonds between people. I stared firmly into the lifeless crimson eyes of the Emblem, Marth, as I considered that. Those thoughts and more were racing through my mind, though most were far too fleeting to grasp onto as I was lost in those two pools of red.
Until suddenly I stopped, my breath catching as I made a realisation. It was a dangerous one that anyone else in my position would toss away, recognizing its uselessness. For some reason though, I couldn’t bring myself to just stow the thought away to be forgotten. So now I stood rigid, staring wide-eyed at the manifestation across from me and toying with a dangerous emotion that I had long since been too fearful to touch, like it was a freshly sharpened double-edged blade.
As this Emblem stared back at me with not a hint of expectation on his face, for once I wished to be bold. But as my lips parted, as I made the smallest croak of a sound to ask the question that had been burning on my tongue–
There was the sound of a disturbance just around the bend, a voice and heavy footsteps. Marth disappeared immediately, into a wisp of red and black, leaving no trace behind. My jaw clicked shut and I was instantly sucked back into reality.
I was on patrol. A mission. I had felt the presence of an Emblem Ring nearby, and I had been heading that way. Now was no time to ask frivolous questions.
There would never be free time to be spent, wasting it on trivial matters of the heart. For Fell Dragons needed no heart. To want one was to be wrong, to be defective, to be doomed to suffer a violent and painful death. An unsightly end to an unwelcome existence.
Choosing not to waste any more time, I started forth towards the source of the Ring’s energy as the dark veil of indifference once again cloaked my heart.
With my strength, I knew it would be an easy enough task to pry the Ring from its owner and return it to my father. I had done it many times before. This time would be no different– or so I thought.
It did not take long for me to find the Ring’s owner. However, what I saw was so absurd, so completely insane that I almost thought I had been seeing things.
This person– they looked just like me.
And yet they weren’t. They were not me.
The shocked look on their face gave me a good look at their eyes: One red, burning with familiarity. The other, blue. A pure, clear blue, much like the gem encrusted within the Emblem Ring on my finger.
“How strange,” I said emotionlessly, betraying my curiosity. “Your face is my face.”
They stuttered, unable to find whatever words they were clearly grasping for. This situation had suddenly twisted into one that I was swiftly wishing to exit. So, I continued on without giving them any time to regain their composure.
“It is my duty to collect Emblem Rings. If you have one, give it to me. I need to take it to Father,” I said, reaching out my hand out towards them, palm-up and ready to receive their Ring. “I will not take no for an answer.”
I wanted nothing more than for this stranger to simply hand over their Ring and leave. Though my father thought little about spilling blood, I did not want to kill –
– No. That wasn’t it. I didn’t care if my targets lived or died– it was simply more efficient to take the Rings without needing to fight. Fighting simply takes more time and energy.
Yes. That was all it was.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” the stranger said.
Hearing their refusal sent a very unwelcome jolt of frustration through my body. I could not let them leave without taking their Rings and killing them for it was a difficult second option.
“I cannot let you leave. Not without your Rings,” I responded quickly. “If I let you leave, my Father will label me a defect, and I will be killed.”
The flatness of my delivery deeply betrayed the shock I had felt at my own words.
Why did I say that? Why would I–
My double’s voice wavered as they echoed, “Killed?”
“Yes.”
I could see every memory clearly as I stared into my doppelganger’s eyes, reliving countless deaths. Countless beloved siblings of mine, reduced to nothing but the mud beneath my father’s feet in his march to conquer the world.
“One older brother was drowned.”
Please– the water is freezing–I can’t feel my limbs–! Father– please give me another chance– I won’t fail you next time–
“One older sister was burned alive.”
It hurts, it hurts– no– no! M-My skin… Please, make it stop! Father–! I’m so sorry–!
“A younger sister and younger brother– they were cute– were torn apart by the Corrupted.”
Ah– no, please– please don’t hurt my sister! Let them eat me instead–!
Brother, no! Father, make them stop! Please… just let us go–!
The bile that had been building in the back of my throat burned the length of my tongue as I remembered their screams and sobs. The way their voices choked as they were torn into just beyond those closed throne room doors. The way I panicked, shocked still and trying to force myself to ignore their pleas for help or mercy.
And, of course, the notable silence that had followed the gruesome ends to their lives.
“If I do not return with your Rings, then I will die, as well,” I said as my imagination ran rampant. “I will be labelled a defect, and my Father will dispose of me just like he has the rest of my siblings.”
So please. Please– just give me your Rings.
I don’t want to die.
“I… I’m sorry,” they repeated, horror writ clear on their face. “I really cannot do that. I need to go right away.”
My jaw set as they immediately turned and ran in the other direction. My chest grew tighter and tighter with every hurried step they took away from me. Everything about them– their face, to their voice, to the way that they moved– they were exactly like me. I couldn’t understand it.
So I followed them. To understand them –
– No. Not to understand them, but to fulfil my duty to my father. I must have their Ring, no matter what. There was no time nor need for understanding.
For a Fell Dragon did not need to understand anyone.
The closer I got to where they had rushed away to, I felt my skin buzz with the presence of more power. More Emblem Rings. My brows knit. How many?
Before I knew it, my legs had carried me straight towards their group, stopping just short of them with Zephia at my side– she must have already found them on her own route. My eyes refused to leave my double as I ordered Zephia to return to my father’s temple, citing the sensation of multiple Rings as the reason to go find my father. Upon hearing that, she left in haste.
Though their rings were certainly a large part in why I sent her off, it wasn’t the only reason. I wanted to pressure these strangers. To speed the process along, to gather their Rings quickly, and send them off on their way so that I could put this strange situation behind me and forget it. So I could take their Rings and survive another day. So I didn’t have to look in this cruel mirror anymore.
The way that my double looked at me with wide, mismatched eyes holding an emotion I could never outwardly show on my face– fear – bothered me. The way they were surrounded by others that took protective steps closer towards them, and the way that they let those people move closer– it all became obvious to me. This person that looked like me– they relied on these other people. That bothered me, too.
Fell Dragons could never show fear. They could never rely on others. To be fearful– to need others to support you– was to be weak. A defect.
And yet, seeing that look of fear in their eyes, and the way that their comrades gathered closer to give them the strength they were lacking in that moment–
My heart ached with longing.
Forcing those unnecessary thoughts down and returning to my task, it did not take long for me to find out the true reason why these strangers were here. They wanted to destroy the Fell Dragon Shard– but to let them do that would be to fail in my duty, and I could not fail in my duty.
I needed the Rings. They wanted to get to the Shard. So, to coax them into doing what I needed, I struck them a deal.
“If I win, I take your Rings. If you win, you may destroy the Shard,” I offered, watching closely as the copy of me narrowed their eyes in consideration.
“... It seems there’s no way around a fight, then,” they responded, though the tone in their voice made it clear they were unhappy with this.
Were they also afraid that they would lose to me? Perhaps they should be, for my Emblem was most certainly more powerful than whatever one they might have.
My hand raised just enough for the Emblem Ring on my finger to catch the hazy sunlight. “Then you shall fight me. And this Emblem.”
The way their breath stalled as my Emblem, Marth, appeared behind me in a burst of corrupt magic, did not go unnoticed by me. So it was true, they were afraid– I could see it clearly in the blue of their left eye. As Marth unsheathed his weapon, I motioned my hand out towards this peculiar stranger, who seemed unable to tear their eyes away from Marth behind me.
“Now, then, show me yours.”
I had been invited to Lythos by Lumera of the Divine Dragons. Even when I had told her it was my duty to kill her, she did not run away. When I told her what would happen if I failed, she had felt it appropriate to treat me with kindness. She promised me that we could meet again in secret, and I had been all too quick to accept her invitation.
I must truly be a defect if I had decided it was appropriate to sneak off with my Father’s enemy.
As I stood in one of the many gardens around the castle, I could not stop fidgeting with the golden band still wrapped snugly around my ring finger, and my mind drifted off to the events that happened not long before I ran across Lumera.
It had been some time since I had seen that strange person. The stranger that wore my face, and the same Emblem Ring.
My lips tugged downward as I stared into the deep blue gemstone within my Emblem Ring, remembering clearly how different that stranger’s Marth was from my own. He spoke, he acted on his own, and–
“Marth.”
At my call, Marth appeared before me, a crimson spectre floating effortlessly above the swaying field of flowers. My eyes caught his and I spent no short amount of time simply staring and navigating difficult thoughts that had been bothering me ever since I saw that strange doppelganger's Marth.
I had been used to the unfeeling eyes of the puppet that had been given to me by my Father, though there had always been a nagging, inconvenient tug in the back of my mind that there was far more to this Emblem than I could see in its gaze. After seeing that other Marth– unshackled, free, and emanating with that beautiful shade of blue– I realised that my inconvenient hunch had been true.
Their Marth was, in short, breathtaking. Never had I seen a figure with such unwavering determination. Even my Father paled in comparison.
Beyond that determination, though, I had seen so much more in those bright blue eyes. There had been an overabundance of humanity that I desperately hoped my own Marth still held within him somewhere. I wanted nothing more than to see that lifeless red I had been so used to instead shine blue and full of love, compassion, and hope. For I had finally seen it for the first time in that doppelganger’s Marth– the look of a true hero that wanted to save the world, and to help those who were weary and trapped in a darkness that they could not escape alone.
A hero that wanted to save everyone– perhaps even someone like me.
My vision blurred with my tears, and I bit at my bottom lip in a vain attempt to keep them at bay. My head bowed, and I let out a shaky sigh, heavy with regret.
“I… I wish I could… talk,” I whispered. “With you.”
My admission was met with a familiar silence, and I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.
“You– you can tell, can’t you?” I asked him. The tears that had welled in the corners of my eyes began to overflow, spilling down my cheeks and dripping onto the ground below. “You can tell when I’m… like this. When everything is going wrong. That’s why you always appeared when my despair was at its worst.”
The walls that I had built around my heart began to crumble again, and like a broken dam finally giving way to a violent current, every thought– every pain that I had– spewed out of me.
“But you can’t speak. You can’t– you can’t act any further on your own. My Father’s magic won’t let you,” I choked, catching myself on a sob. “My magic won’t let you. I can’t let you be a hero. I can’t let you save others, even if I wanted you to. I just… I can’t.”
Reliving that fight and remembering how that other Marth practically danced about on the battlefield, I let out a heavy breath. “I saw you– the real you, what you are really like– that day when you were… when the other you was fighting at that stranger’s side– the stranger that looked just like me. Ever since then, I just can’t help but wonder why the reflection in that mirror couldn’t have been our reality.”
I clenched my teeth as more and more tears streamed down my face. My eyes hurt, my lungs burned, strands of my hair clung to my cheeks wetted by tears– I could barely even take a breath through my nose. I was a complete mess.
“Why do I have to be a Fell Dragon? Why has my life been full of so many horrible, horrible things? Why can I not do anything– anything at all– right? I’m here now, in Lythos after having taken an offer given to me by my Father’s greatest enemy – a Divine Dragon. I’ve betrayed him, and here I am sobbing my eyes out.”
I grasped at my chest with my left hand and dug my fingers deeply into the black cloth.
“Lumera told me I wasn’t a defect, that there was nothing wrong with me. That I’m not a failure. But how can I believe that– how can I believe that when all I need to do is look at you?”
I could feel the band of the Emblem Ring gently squeezing again at my finger as I clutched even tighter at my chest.
“A-all I need to do is look at you, and I know. I know that there’s something wrong with me. I’m not good for anything but hurting others– for using others–”
I swallowed another sob and I shook my head harshly as another wave of painful revelations overcame me.
“-- For using you. And now that I know what kind of Emblem you really are, I’m full of so much regret. Regret for making you help me take the other Rings, to kill others. For never realising how lucky I’ve been to have you at my side. And now, regret for not being able to do anything at all to help you. I’ve done nothing but hurt people and failed everyone that I’ve ever cared about. My Father, my siblings– you."
I had only just recently started to allow myself to express my emotions– to truly feel everything that I had always been taught to bottle up or throw away. There was so much built up inside of me that once I started to let it out, I just couldn’t stop. This happened every time I saw Lumera, especially when I was able to sneak away with her to Lythos.
I could cry. I could be scared. I could be happy. I could be angry. I could care for others.
I could be alive.
But it all felt so, so wrong. Why should a defect like me be given this chance? What have I ever done to deserve any of this kindness, this opportunity?
Through my blurred, strained vision, I could have sworn I saw one of Marth’s hands twitch– a subtle movement that I certainly would have missed had I not been looking right at him, pouring my heart out. My breath caught, and whether it was from surprise or a sob I couldn’t tell. What I could tell, however, was how my heart swelled dangerously with hope at that faint motion.
My teeth chattered as I strained my lips into a grimace. That powerful feeling hurt me more than being pierced in the chest by a knife.
Marth was staring at me, expression as neutral as always, and the red energy wisping around him glowed like a fire that I couldn’t help but want to reach out and touch. I let out a slow, quivering breath as I tried to calm my heart and find the right words.
Maybe this was why my Father always crushed his children’s hopes. Hope was terrifying.
Yet I was being drawn in like a moth to Marth’s flame, the one that I knew existed somewhere inside of him, desperate for its warmth and light.
“I’m so sorry, Marth. I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I… I know I don’t have the right to ask this of you or to command you to do this. But I– please, if you could. I already think you can, but… show me that you really do understand me. That the real you that I met is in there somewhere. I don’t… I don’t care how you do it. I just need to know.”
Once that plea left my lips, the desperation I felt was so crippling that I couldn’t move or breathe. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Marth as I waited for his response.
If he would just show me some sign that he understood, that he wasn’t completely gone, that the hero I met briefly on the battlefield was still alive even under that corrupted red veneer– then maybe it was worth holding on to that small shred of hope that Lumera had placed in me. I would know then that his timely appearances weren’t just sheer coincidence, and maybe I could do something to try to right this horrible wrong.
However, that fragile bit of hope cracked under the weight of Marth’s inaction. With my plea hanging in the air, unanswered, the pressure in my chest built once more– though this time with a sadness so overwhelming that my tears returned in full force. With a weak nod, I quickly bowed my head to stare firmly at the lush grass and flowers below in a poor attempt to hide my face from him.
How foolish I was to have thought that the real Marth was there, or that he actually cared about someone as evil, twisted, and broken as me. My mind began to spiral, chanting cruelly with a voice so familiar and real I could feel it vibrating in my ears:
Defect. Defect. Defect. Defect. Defect.
In fact, it was so deafeningly loud that I had brought my hands up towards my ears at some point and had begun to clutch them in a vain attempt to make it stop. No matter how painfully hard I gripped, however, the voice didn’t go away– it just grew louder and louder, screaming more and more–
Until suddenly there was a prickling warmth against my cheek, and the voice did stop.
My breath hitched in my throat as my eyes snapped open, startled by both the sudden silence in my head and sensation on my cheek. Everything was a haze of colour through the tears in my eyes, from the greens, whites, and yellows of the grass and flowers to the bold red that kept flickering in and out of the view of my left eye.
I tilted my head up just enough to look forward, through my eyelashes.
A familiar crimson figure hovered before me, and even though my vision was still somewhat obscured, I could see how his right arm was outstretched towards me. I quickly batted my eyes, trying to clear away the last of the tears so I could understand just what was happening. Though even after I cleared my vision, I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was seeing.
Marth was looking directly at me, his gaze unwavering, with his arm outstretched to caress my left cheek with his hand. The touch was delicate and felt more like a warm breeze than the feeling of skin on skin, but it didn’t matter. My heart pounded in a pace I had never experienced before, even when compared to the anxiety attacks triggered by my Father’s horrifying murder of my siblings.
All those times I had been wrapped up in grief, anger, fear, and Marth suddenly appeared from his Ring– it really was because he knew. Even without free will, he did the only thing he could to try to show me that he was there, that I was not alone– and now that I commanded him to show me the proof, he did.
My body trembled as I reached up with my left hand and pulled it close to my cheek in an attempt to touch his hand, but it phased right through and occupied the same space. That energy engulfed my hand, causing my skin to tingle, and I was unable to pull my gaze away from his.
Then, finally, my lips pulled upwards in a foreign expression I had never made before– a smile. One fueled by emotions so strong that I couldn’t stop it from growing from ear to ear, with my tears returning for a third time– though this time they were tears of relief.
“I… I can’t believe it,” I said, my voice hoarse. “You really do… you really do understand me. You really are in there, aren’t you?”
Even though the red eyes that were staring back at me were just as blank as they had always been, it suddenly didn’t bother me. At least not in the way that it did before. My Marth was far more than just a lifeless puppet– the hero I had seen standing against me on the battlefield existed in my own Marth just as much as it did in that doppelganger’s. He was real.
“Thank you. Thank you, Marth,” I whispered, clenching my fingers against my cheek to mimic the grasping of his hand. “For… everything you have done for me. Even though I controlled you, and made you help me do terrible things on my Father’s behalf…”
My words caught in my throat as I closed my eyes and allowed myself to simply exist in that moment, tuning out everything beyond myself and Marth.
Back when my Father had given me the Emblem of Beginnings, I truly had thought of it as nothing more than a gilded shackle permanently tying me to my Father. A beautiful yet solemn reminder that my life was entirely in his hands, and that one day, I would die in a way just as disturbingly violent as the rest of my siblings had. Unloved and unknown, destined to be forgotten. Only remembered as a statistic, one of many in the horde of Fell Dragons that died in the war. That was if I was lucky, at least. If my Father truly got his way, no one would be left to catalogue any of this war. My death and the death of all my family would never be known to anyone. Our painful existences would be meaningless; our lives, worthless.
That was what I had always seen and felt when I looked at the Emblem of Beginnings on my left ring finger– not a symbol of hope or peace.
Until now.
“Marth… I promise, I will do good,” I said as I reopened my eyes, the smile wavering but still on my face. It was hard to hold such an unfamiliar expression for so long. “I will… I will help Lumera. And… I will save you.”
I would do everything in my power to do things right– even if it might hurt.
“I know that I can’t be the one to do it,” I continued. “I’m… a Fell Dragon. So, no matter how much I might wish to give you the free will you deserve, I can’t. But Lumera can. So…”
So, I would do what I had to do, for him. Even if it meant defying my Father.
Lythos Castle was beautiful at night. With the way the pale moonlight illuminated the white walls of the castle, it created a glow that could only be described as ethereal. Otherworldly. Like it came straight from a fairytale. On evenings like these, I preferred to enjoy the quiet solitude of the grand balcony that overlooked the castle grounds. It gave a great view of the gardens and surrounding landscape, which provided plenty of visual interest for me as I lost myself in my own thoughts.
Especially now, with the events of the war coming quite clearly to a head. I knew the end was just on the horizon.
“Must you be the one to go?”
The gentle voice startled me from my daze, and I turned my head. Not but a few paces away from me, sharing the open space of the balcony, floated Marth. He was no longer glowing angry and red, but instead a serene blue. Free from my Father’s hold. A sight that I truthfully had yet to grow accustomed to.
After I had made Marth the promise that I would save him, I made the difficult decision to approach Queen Lumera and ask her if she would undo the dark magic my Father had placed on the Emblem of Beginnings. She had understandably been concerned, noting that once I had undone his magic that it would no longer be possible to keep her relationship with me a secret and put me in clear danger if Lord Sombron ever found out about it.
At the time, I had told her with a straight face that I would be willing to take on whatever punishment my Father threw at me, so long as it meant that Marth would have his freedom. I even offered to give the Ring to her, fully relinquishing any hold on it that my Father might have if I kept it. It had pained me to suggest that deal, but loneliness was a price I was willing to pay if it meant that the Emblem that I had grown to care so much about would be safe.
However, she had declined my offer, and instead countered with an option I had never thought to consider: that upon freeing Marth from Lord Sobron’s fell magic, we would let him choose the option he preferred. Befuddled, I had agreed to her terms with the full expectation that Marth would simply choose to stay by her side and want nothing more to do with me. After all, I had made him my accomplice and ordered him to commit so many terrible deeds that directly contradicted his own heroic ideals, and I was one of Lord Sombron’s children as well.
After I had passed the Ring off onto Lumera, she had summoned Marth with a prayer– a strange practice I had yet to see with my own eyes before that moment– and he reappeared, embraced by a gentle blue hue. I remember how my heart palpitated in my chest when all of that corrupt red power had been purged, revealing Marth as he was supposed to be. The clarity in his eyes, the soft smile on his lips, the confident way in which he held his head high and shoulders back. I was starstruck.
Imagine how much more stunned I had been when she asked Marth where he wished to go, and he had looked directly at me, speaking clearly and without hesitation:
”I wish to stay with you.”
It had been a few months since then, and I still found it impossible to believe that not only was Marth free, but he chose to stay at my side.
A faint, guilty smile tugged at my lips as I paused in my reminiscing. “You know that no one else would be able to do what would be required for this to work out.”
“Perhaps,” Marth replied as he moved closer, closing the distance between us. “But you plan on going alone, don’t you?”
His question immediately wiped the smile from my face, and I looked away from him and back out towards the castle garden. My silence must have been enough of an answer for him, for he took it as an opportunity to sidle closer beside me and lean forward to force himself into my peripheral vision. I grimaced at the worried look he was giving me.
“I already know how strongly you feel about the potential for Sombron to take my Emblem Ring back,” he said. “You plan on leaving me here in Lythos as well, with Queen Lumera.”
Marth was far too perceptive, even with the amount of practice I had concealing my emotions for years. It truly seemed like nothing could get past him now that he was given his free will back. Or rather, nothing was holding him back from actually addressing what he saw now that he could speak.
Unable to avoid his pointed observations, I let out a heavy sigh and sagged my shoulders forward. “Marth, I don’t want you to be taken by my Father again. If that happened, I could never forgive myself. At least this way I can ensure your safety, even if I…”
Marth’s frown deepened, and he turned to float off of the balcony directly in front of me, blocking the view of the scenery and forcing me to look at him.
“Even if you die?” Marth asked firmly as he stared directly into my eyes, and I quickly found myself unable to find my voice. Marth’s arms visibly tensed as he clutched his fists at his sides. “Alear, I cannot let you charge off into a fight so dangerous all alone, even if your reasoning is noble.”
At that, it was my turn to frown as an ugly coil, tight and angry, squeezed at my lungs. I gnashed my teeth as I balled my fists just like he had. “Marth, please. I have to do this.”
As we stared at one another, I could see clearly how frustration flared for a brief moment in Marth’s eyes. However, it quickly faded away, and his posture relaxed as his expression dropped in a way that bothered me, like he had figured out something.
“... Alear, do you want to come out of this war alive?”
Marth’s question, though direct, was softened by the gentleness of his voice. In a way, though, that made it even more painful for me to hear, and I held my breath for a moment. Yet the right response never came to me, and I lowered my gaze from his. He let out a quiet, despondent sigh, finally understanding the true motive behind my seemingly valiant plan.
“So that’s it,” he said delicately and without further accusation. “Alear… please– do not throw your life away.”
I swallowed hard as my brows knit tightly. Having my thoughts spoken back at me so directly made the morbid nature of my plan that much more poignant.
Deciding there was no point in hiding it any longer, I responded, “I have to.”
“Why?” Marth asked.
“Because, so long as there are Fell Dragons in this world, there will always be the risk of something like this happening again. I can’t live,” I replied, my voice beginning to shake. The words came out of me so quickly that I couldn’t stop them. “If I live, then someday, I might become like my Father too, and I–”
“You won’t.”
Marth’s response had come so quickly and confidently that my words caught in my throat, choking my breath. I whipped my head upwards to look towards him once more and froze.
I saw it, then– that same strong, unwavering conviction that had enraptured me when we fought that doppelganger and the Marth that stood at their side. Except now, it was my own Marth that held that fire in his eyes, and it was focused fully on me.
“I… what?” I whispered dumbly.
“You will never be like Sombron,” Marth repeated more clearly. “I have seen how much it pained you to hurt people, and how much you care for others. Your Father, your siblings, Queen Lumera–”
He paused, and then continued, “-- Even me. Your heart is pure, and your intentions are good, regardless of your Fell lineage. I have full confidence that you will never become like him.”
Whilst I stammered over his words, he gave me a beautiful smile full of kindness and compassion. “And I am not the only one who believes this strongly in your good nature. Queen Lumera, your Mother, does, as well. She would never wish for you to die.”
Hearing Queen Lumera being referred to as my Mother struck me out of my stupor. Even though we were supposed to be enemies, she had taken me in, cared for me, supported me, and treated me like I was her own child– more so than my own Father ever had. Thinking about her, and how my death would cause her grief, forced me to reconsider my actions. Marth was silent as he gave me much needed time to think.
Finally, I relaxed my arms and loosened my fists as a weak breath of a laugh slipped from my lips. “You’re… right, again, aren’t you?”
Even though I still failed to understand why she cared about me, or why Marth cared about me, I couldn’t ignore it. For some reason they believed in me, and I couldn’t be so much of a fool to simply throw that all away.
The smile I gave Marth was tired, and I relented. “I won’t lie to you and say I understand why either of you decided to associate with me. But… I recognize that you have, and I would be failing you both by squandering the faith you’ve put in me.”
Marth gave me a conflicted look. “Whilst I am relieved that you’ve decided to reconsider your plan, the reason you’ve given for changing your mind is not exactly what I was intending.”
“Maybe not,” I agreed as I shifted on my feet and raised my left hand. Marth’s gaze turned from my face to my hand, and I turned it so the blue gem of his Emblem Ring glinted in the moonlight. “But… it’s how I feel, for better or worse. I would say it’s certainly a lot better than how I was feeling just a few short months ago, even if it still might not be particularly great.”
The way the blue gemstone seemed to grow only deeper in colour as I bobbed my finger just enough to let the light of the moon swirl about on its surface made me smile. There was something about that colour that pulled at my heart in a way that provided me with both hurt and comfort.
“So, even if my reasoning for deciding to live might be pitifully flawed right now, can you at least forgive me of that?” I asked, and my question hung in the air as I continued to toy with the ring on my finger. Even though my attention was fully trained on that gilded band, I could feel Marth’s eyes on me.
Marth’s gentle response was what finally pulled my attention back to him. “There is nothing to forgive,” he said as he smiled at me– a lovely look that I could never imagine growing tired of seeing. He then floated closer to the balcony, directly towards me.
“I can only hope that, in time, you may value yourself just as much as your Mother and I do,” he added before gently resting his hand on top of mine, over his Ring. “You are deserving of that love, you know.”
Upon hearing that, I grew rigid under his touch, blinking quickly a few times as I furrowed my brow in confusion.
“Love?”
Marth’s beautiful smile only grew as he gave a small tilt of his head, as if asking a silent do you get it now?
Even with the answer staring me straight in the face, I reeled back just enough to move my hand out from under Marth’s and gave him an incredulous reply. “Wh… what? Love? That doesn’t… make any sense.”
“Does it not? Alear,” Marth started as he floated just a hair closer again, once more closing the distance that I had accidentally made between the two of us. “You have felt love for others for your entire life. Is it that bizarre for others to feel that same way back towards you?”
Confused, I could only open and close my mouth, unable to figure out a proper retort.
That… wasn’t love, that was fear. I was just scared that if they died, I would be next in line.
As if he could read my mind, Marth shook his head at me. “The death of your siblings hurt you deeply because you loved them, Alear. You cared about them. You were afraid for yourself, but that doesn’t mean that fear was the only fuel for your sorrow.”
A lump built in my throat, and I scowled with discomfort. Marth’s words made more sense than I wanted them to, and it hurt. All this time, the despair and regret that I felt was caused by love? Because I loved and lost?
There was a gentle tingling on my cheek that was familiar, and it tugged me from the downward spiral I had begun to tumble down. I bit at the inside of my lip as my eyes caught the pair of blue ones in front of me, and Marth and I simply stared at one another in a tender silence. As the edge began to wear off, my shoulders loosened, and I allowed myself to lull my head just a bit more to the side– into the ghost of Marth’s hand that had been resting on my cheek.
With a slow, careful breath, I slipped my eyes shut and focused on his energy. Powerful and commanding, what one would expect from the Hero-King– but with a heavy lacing of unrelenting compassion, love, and hope. Those same three beautiful and human emotions that I thought would forever be beyond my reach.
“Alear… please, stay your tears,” Marth whispered.
My eyes fluttered open, lashes heavy with wetness as I gazed blankly at the blurry suggestion of Marth’s breastplate. Since when did I start crying?
“I… I’m sorry,” I responded. “I didn’t even realise…”
Marth only gave a small shake of his head, and I felt the comforting suggestion of a thumb swiping just below my left eye. The tears remained, but the gesture alone brought a weary smile to my lips.
“Do not apologise for feeling,” Marth said. “I only regret that I cannot dry your tears myself– that this is all that I can do…”
With a weak breath of a laugh, I pulled my shoulders up as I attempted to nuzzle my cheek more into the energy of Marth’s hand, and I sniffled.
“Marth, know that you have done more than enough for me,” I responded, my voice hopefully expressing the sheer adoration I felt. “Please, don’t hold a regret like that. You have no idea just how much these gestures mean to me– I love and appreciate you and everything you do.”
His surprise was strong enough that I could feel it like a spark through the energy that was still caressing my cheek. “Alear…”
The tone of his voice only caused my heart to rupture with an overabundance of that feeling– love. “Please, Marth, if you could… pardon my boldness, just this once. Just this once, I… I want to indulge in what I’m feeling. I don’t want to push it away anymore. Is… that okay?”
My eyes reopened, still damp with tears, and I looked directly into Marth’s own. He looked somewhat surprised– with slack lips and brows raised a hair more than normal– but as we shared in each other's presence, his expression relaxed into another gentle smile.
“I will not stand in the way of your feelings,” he said, and I could feel another brush of his thumb on my cheek. “Nor will I judge you for wishing to explore them.”
Having the floodgates so readily opened for me caused more breathy laughter to escape my throat before I could even catch it. The relief I felt was so strong that it was the only way my mind could think to process it. Hopefully Marth could tell that’s what it was, and that I wasn’t laughing at him. When I spared him a glance, through eyes crinkled by my smile, the way he was smiling back at me gave me the confidence to assume that he knew my laughter wasn’t fueled by distasteful humour.
“Marth,” I began, “you’ve been by my side for so long, even when you couldn’t speak… even when you couldn’t act on your own, even when I made you complicit in unspeakable horrors, you… you never gave up on me. You didn’t hate me or see me as a monster. When you were freed, you could have left me, and I… I honestly thought that you would. I would have understood it if you did. But you didn’t– you chose to stay here, at my side, even after everything that you have been through because of me, or my father…”
Sucking in a laboured breath, I brought my left hand to my chest, placing it so that his Emblem Ring rested just above my heart. I could feel the hammering in my chest, pumping so fast that the tips of my fingers and toes were numb. “I didn’t understand it, but… I am grateful. I am so, so grateful. For you. For everything you’ve done for me. For being by my side no matter what. For… for this. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”
The day that I had approached Lumera with the Ring of Beginnings flashed into my mind, and the uncertainty that I felt when I asked her to resummon Marth with her own power. My fingers gripped at the cloth of my shirt just above my heart and I pursed my lips. “I tried to, once. Right before I had brought you to Mother. I had spent that entire day trying to envision my life without you at my side, because I had been planning to give you to her– to keep you safe. And… it hurt . It hurt so much that it felt like I was going to die, like my life would lose meaning without you in it.”
My throat was parched as I recalled that tumultuous day, spent fighting with my own selfishness. A dark part of me had wanted to keep Marth at my side regardless of whether he wanted to be there or not, but I knew better than to do that to him. His free will was more important than my comfort, and I would have been no better than my Father if I had forced him to stay with me.
“At the time, I didn’t understand it as anything more than fear,” I continued, “Fear that I would be weak, that I wouldn’t survive without your power. That I would end up dead at the hands of my Father without your strength there to make up for my… my defects.”
The way Marth’s lips twitched at that word, forming a momentary frown, did not go unnoticed by me. I only offered him a weak smile of reassurance as I continued. “But I… I understand now, that wasn’t it. You’ve helped me realise that it wasn’t fear. Or at least, fear wasn’t the only reason I was so unprepared to have to part with you.”
My voice lowered, quiet but certain, as I gazed directly into Marth’s eyes and allowed myself to get carried away in the powerful tow of emotions pulling me under. “It was because I love you. More than anything.”
It was silent for a time, raw emotions weighing in the open air. I had, for the first time in my life, made myself wholly vulnerable and at the whims of my heart, throwing caution to the wind. In truth, I didn’t exactly know all the ins and outs of what actually constituted “love,” but no other word better defined the way that I felt about Marth at this very moment. Once he had expressed the love he felt for me, it put the conflict, the pain, and the fear that I felt into clearer perspective. He truly was someone that I could not live without.
His words were just as gentle, a whisper meant only for me to hear. “I love you, as well, Alear, and I am forever grateful to be at your side. As an Emblem, a friend, or otherwise.”
Or otherwise.
“Then… would you be there, alongside me, when I go to fight my Father,” I asked, less hesitant now than before. “Will you fight at my side, not just as an Emblem given to me for war, but as my most beloved and trusted ally? As… my other half, not there to make up for my weaknesses– my defects – but to give each other strength?”
Marth’s expression softened, and the fire of determination gleamed in the blues of his eyes as he responded, “I would want nothing more.”
I smiled wider– so much so that those underdeveloped muscles hurt from the exertion– and he gave me another careful rub of my cheek.
I could see now why the Ring of Beginnings was a symbol of hope and peace. For if I had the Hero-King at my side, lighting our path to freedom, I would fight with all I had so no darkness could ever hurt anyone again. Together, we could rid this world of the pain that my Father had inflicted upon us for so long, and we could live happily– the Emblems, my Mother, Marth, and myself.
At least, that was what I thought.
Reality was cruel and brutal. It spared no expense when it came to bloodshed or death.
I learned that the hard way. No matter how ready you think you are to fight, to lay down your life for the future you believe in, it’s impossible to be fully prepared for the sheer amount of loss that comes with war.
Especially when you are the last one standing in a room set ablaze, with your Father crumpled at your feet. Marth had fought alongside me the entire way up until this point, though as we neared the end of the battle with Lord Sombron, he used up the last of his strength to protect me from what would have been a fatal blow and was forced back into his Ring. However, even though he could not be with me on the battlefield right now, his ring still burned on my finger with the intensity of our bond, and I knew I was not alone.
That energy was what powered me to this point. In fact, it was still powering me now, even as Lord Sombron glared at me with murder writ clear in the blacks of his eyes.
“If you are going to strike me down, then do it,” he hissed, and even though he was not in his draconic form, the venom that dripped from his tongue reminded me of the day he had given me Marth’s Ring. The unbridled hatred with which he spoke to me was blatant.
My grip tightened on the hilt of my blade, and I considered him for a moment. The way he challenged me and waited for me to make my move made it obvious he didn’t believe that I could do it– that I could and would willingly cut down my own Father.
If this were happening months ago, he would have been right. In fact, I would have been fighting alongside him, determined to cut down whatever intruder dared to make an attempt on his life. He was, for better or worse, all that I had back then. The only one that I cared for and was allowed to care for. The only one that I could live and die for.
But it wasn’t that way anymore.
My muscles, sore and strained from fighting, tensed as I grasped at the handle of my blade with both hands and raised it over my shoulder.
Lord Sombron’s shadow was not going to smother me anymore.
There was a flash of surprise in his eyes, perceivable for only a split second before I swung down. I did not hesitate, I did not waver; all of the power that I had left in me– and that Marth had been giving me– went into that strike, cleaving tissue and bone. Crushing the evil that dared to consume the world’s light– that dared to threaten the tender bonds I had managed to foster.
Blood spurted forth from the gaping wound in his breast, as well as his mouth as he hacked, and I watched listlessly as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the charred ground. Blood pooled beneath his corpse, and the heat of the flames only exacerbated the stench. I frowned and narrowed my eyes, thinking back to all the atrocities he had committed to my siblings, and to others that defied his cruel reign, and could not help but think:
An unsightly end to an unwelcome existence.
“Alear!”
That voice ripped me from my vicious thoughts, and, in surprise, I whipped around to look towards the entrance of the throne room.
Queen Lumera, my Mother, was dashing through the debris and flames towards me, panic set deep on her features.
“Mother,” I greeted, relieved, though guilt gripped me upon seeing her clear worry.
As she approached me, I could clearly see how hard she was breathing. Her dress, a normally bright and glittering silk, was dull and coated in soot. How long had she been running through this smoke, looking for me?
“You– you came here by yourself?” she asked, “And, all this…”
“There’s… there’s no need to worry, Mother. Lord Sombron is no more,” I said, hoping to assuage her fears. When her shoulders relaxed, I smiled tiredly and continued, “Now we can return to the castle together and–”
It all happened so fast.
There was a sharp ring that screeched in my ears, deafening me as an intense pain burst through my chest. My Mother’s eyes widened in horror, and I could barely comprehend what I was doing as I glanced down towards the epicentre of the pain–
Only to see a large hole pierced clean through me, my skin burning with corrupt flame at its edges.
Everything sounded like it was underwater, but the deep voice of Lord Sombron was unmistakable as he groaned from behind me:
“Die… you treacherous whelp.”
And as if under his command, my legs wobbled and gave out. My Mother screamed, she ran to me– I think she caught me before I hit the ground, but everything was so blurry that I couldn’t tell.
At the very least, I could tell I was in her arms, now. I could hear her sobbing and pleading with me not to die, but deep down inside, I always had the feeling that things would turn out this way.
For Fell Dragons were not meant to live. We were meant to die, for the sake of the world and its fragile light that our very existence threatened to blot out.
But that didn’t stop me from dreaming. To dream about doing things right– to be a good dragon, like I had always wanted to be.
I couldn’t tell at this point whether I was thinking or speaking. But I could hear the muted sound of my Mother’s voice, telling me that I was a good dragon– and that there would come a day that I would wake once more.
Her words painted a picture in my mind– an ideal future where a second life truly could be granted. Perhaps I could return, wearing white, with a gleaming sword at my side. A hero, determined to save the world.
Like Marth, the Hero-King, the one whose voice I could hear crying out for me in the back of my mind as my vision grew dark.
My Mother promised me, then, that she would have a gift for me. A birthday gift, to commemorate my new life. Her words were a kindness that I could appreciate as I felt the last bit of my strength leaving me. It made death a lot less scary, especially as my eyelids grew far too heavy to keep open.
A new life wherein I could be a hero– that sounded truly wonderful. I couldn’t wait for that day to come.
Maybe then, I could see Marth again. We could be heroes together. From the beginning, all the way to the very end. Maybe even forever.
My muscles relaxed, and the aches and pains of battle melted away as I dreamt about that life. With a weary smile, I let out one final breath.
What a lovely fairytale that was.