eidolonic | Enchanted forests and dark mages

Enchanted forests and dark mages

Lugh normally liked forests. He was already small and nimble, but the terrain offered an extra edge when he was fighting the larger, broader soldiers of Bern--ducking knights' lances and outpacing cavaliers was much easier with so many trees to weave between and hide behind.

But this forest had changed, somewhere along the line. No more patches of sunlight between the trees, no more daisylike flowers in the undergrowth or birdsong--he felt a chill as he searched for the other side. He couldn't even hear any enemies now... there was a path, marked out with pale stones. Should he follow it? He hesitated. It didn't look like the sort of animal or hunter's track he usually saw.

A twig snapped, the first sound he'd heard in minutes, other than his own footsteps. Instantly he threw himself behind a mossy trunk, clutching his tome and ready to throw magic at whoever was coming up behind him.

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"He embraced former Fang members in his ranks," Erk corrected tersely. "Both Jaffar and Nino left that organization willingly." That was an important distinction to make. Several members of Lord Eliwood's force still had qualms about fighting alongside them--or alongside Jaffar, at least--but they were no longer Black Fang.

And for what it was worth, Erk was very much of the opinion that you accepted whatever aid you could get when you were trying to prevent a second Scouring.

Oh, but how he wanted to blast that sneer off the dark mage's face. Did the man really think he was in any position to be so snide and cryptic? He was unarmed and injured, and still he teased them with fragments of an explanation that made no sense whatsoever. 'Hatchlings' of the Fang members who joined Eliwood? Impossible. Neither of them had children. So why did Lugh think this had something to do with his mother?

At Lugh's question, though, the shaman threw his head back and laughed raucously, heedless of the pain of his wounds. "You really want to know, boy? Heh, you'll find out soon enough. Go ahead and kill me. Others will take my place. We'll deal with you exactly as we dealt with your dear, sweet mother..." He cackled again, and turned his cruel gaze to Erk. "...And with your father."

as we dealt with your dear, sweet mother.

The words filled Lugh, raw and hot, flooding him until they brimmed over. He had spent so much time and effort training himself to be angry when bad things happened, to act and not weep, that nothing else could happen but what did now.

With a wordless yell, he lauched himself at the shaman, holding his tome in both hands and beating the injured man with every ounce of strength he had. Lugh was a small and skinny boy, and the shaman was a grown man, but the ferocity of the assault would have been trying for all but an armored knight. All thought of stealth and strategy was forgotten. Lugh could only see the dim face of his mother, smiling, the vague form of his father disappearing (the shaman's revelation could not penetrate conscious thought, but somewhere in his mind it had fitted together), Raigh's tears and later his mask of coldness, Poppa, the orphans, the soldiers of Bern--and this man, this hideous excuse for a person and his hideous friends had started it, there at the root of every sorrow in Lugh's young life.

He would tear it out and burn it to the ground.

...Well. That was unexpected.

Erk stepped back in shock when Lugh threw himself at the shaman in a sudden explosion of fury. He still had no idea what was going on--who were Lugh's parents? What was their connection to the Black Fang? What did any of this have to do with him? But the other boy had clearly pieced something together. For a moment Erk could only look on, uncertain as to whether or not he should intervene... but then he sighed, long and loud, and left Lugh to his rage while he went to retrieve his cloak. He had no reason to step in.

Their foe had all but admitted to killing Lugh's parents, after all. This was his fight. Although...

"...Your tome will work better if you use it as intended."

Whether Lugh would even hear him or not, he didn't know. But Erk refastened his cloak around his shoulders and simply stood aside, unable to bring himself to feel any pity for the shaman as the other boy vented his anger. He would wait this out.

Once Lugh was calm again, though, they were going to have to talk.

Lugh blinked himself back to reality. Ah... he looked up at Erk, donning his cloak again, and down at the shaman, now unconscious with a face covered in blood. He had heard a crunch. It must have been the man's nose.

He stood up slowly and stepped back, turning his tome over in his hands. Lugh could kill. He had forced himself to do so many times by remembering the awful things that Bern had done to the people he loved. But none of the soldiers he'd struck down had been lying senseless at his feet. That made it harder. And Erk... Erk hadn't moved to check him. In fact he seemed exasperated more than anything else.

But the shaman had told him who Erk was, why Lugh kept feeling a strange sense of having seen him. Lugh didn't know how he would feel to see a man killed even if he was only temporarily helpless.

His father had been an age for fatherhood, though. This person beside him was no older than Roy. "You, you--you know her. Nino."

So Lugh didn't kill the shaman after all. ...Well, unconscious was good enough. At least it shut him up. And the fog appeared to be lifting; not just thinning, but actually retreating, and with it, the menacing atmosphere that had cloaked the forest since Erk had first set foot in it. He took a deep breath, appreciating finally feeling like he could breathe again.

Perhaps they'd actually be able to find their way out of here now.

"I know her," he confirmed with a careful nod. "She fights with us." Good, the other boy seemed like himself again. Maybe now Erk could finally get some idea of what this was all about.

"You are a relative of hers, then. ...Yet somehow, you know nothing about the Black Fang." He fixed Lugh with a flat look. Explain.

Lugh could explain, but that look Erk gave him was unsettling. And, as he watched the creeping fog creep away, he had doubts about that explanation. How was he supposed to tell a boy just a couple of years older that he was going to get married? That he was now talking to his son by the girl who, from his words, he had only met a short time ago?

...That he and his wife were going to die? Because it had been years and years, and Lugh had always felt that his parents would have returned if they had been able to. Meeting Erk only made him more certain of that.

"I know the name. I know they had something to do with Mam--" he stopped as the word came out. "My mother, Nino. But she was older. Older than you. What's going on?"

The words tumbled out before Lugh could stop them. He knew Erk didn't know the answer. Telling him that much would be enough for Erk to handle. But Lugh couldn't check the instinct, the feeling that somehow Erk would know anyway.

'What's going on', indeed. His mother Nino? Erk's first thought was that this must simply be a case of mistaken identity, and there was more than one person named Nino involved with the Black Fang... but that didn't account for Lugh's undeniable resemblance to the Nino he knew. He did look like he could be her son... in twenty years or so.

For several long moments, Erk simply blinked at the other boy as he tried to digest this information. If nothing else, though, at least he could be quite certain that Lugh wasn't a Fang spy or anything of the sort. A spy would use a believable cover story.

And if, if Lugh's story was somehow true... well, the shaman's words suddenly became much more concerning. He had killed Lugh's mother. And his father...

"...Hoo boy."

It couldn't be possible. He and Nino--and Lugh was--no, it couldn't be possible. There had to be a logical explanation. There had to be. And 'I'm speaking with my future son' was anything but.

Erk shook his head and ran a hand through his hair with a slow sigh. "I think... I think we need to find our comrades. Whether they're Lord Eliwood's force or--whoever you're with." Master Pent must be able to help sort this out... or even better, the Archsage. "If we can speak with Lord Athos, surely he'll know how to make sense of this."

"...Lord Roy. He's Lord Eliwood's son." Lugh could feel his insides getting cold. The fog was going away, and maybe that meant that whatever time-shifting enchantment the shamans had conjured was lifting. But which time did that leave them in? If it was Lugh's time, Erk was dead, Erk and Nino both. If it was Erk's time, then Lugh didn't even exist yet. But it was possible that Erk might be able to save himself and his wife.

And if Lugh was saying incomprehensible things, he had obviously gotten it from his father, because Erk's mention of Athos in the same breath as Pent of Etruria was nearly as bizarre. "Um... do you mean, going to a church or a shrine?" Lugh said. That was the only context in which it made sense. Lugh was only aware of Saint Elimine having a church, but for all he knew each of the Eight Legends still had followers.

He looked around. There was the path again, the one he'd followed into the woods. That would be back to his own time, right? "Which way did you come from? I think we should go in that direction."

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Enchanted forests and dark mages

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I RETURN

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