Chapter Text
May 13th, 950
“Your Highness, an update from the south.” A highlander pushed into the war tent, slightly breathless.
“Let’s hear it.” A man looked up from a war table, replete with miniatures and a map.
“A band of Prince Orthros’ knights are heading straight towards Lake Ebel. We believe they’re going after a local figure near the village of Legram.”
“Thank you, Zeo,” the man nodded slowly, reaching over to pick up a miniature. “Numbers?”
“About twenty knights and forty men-at-arms. A small force, to be sure.”
“Tell Dayan and Rath to trail them and see where they set up camp,” the man replied, mind whirling with numbers. “If these fellows are here for intelligence gathering, then we must be quick about it. Word is that the Eisenritter call this land their home, and they’ve been a thorn in Orthros’ side.”
“As you say, Dreichels.” Zeo bowed stiffly, unaccustomed to Erebonian protocols as he was, and stepped out of the command tent. Dreichels looked at the miniature he had been fiddling with - its two tiny swords pricked at his fingers, as if reminding him of his loss. Roland…
He shook his head. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - think about that just yet. Situated in a valley a distance from Legram they were in a bit of an enclosed position, but Dreichels trusted Guy and Hassar’s assurances that they would be safe. However, something trembled through the ground, and Driechels’ ears perked up.
“Actually, Dreichels, you might want to grab your broadsword - seems like that band of knights is headed our way,” Uhai looked into the tent with a tight look on his face, bow in one hand.
“Then we ride,” Dreichels pulled on his armored coat and belted his sword to his waist, heading for his trusty steed. “Pikemen, at the front! Archers, behind, ready on my command!” His Nordic allies gathered in a formidable row, and his ranged forces readied their arrows. In total they numbered roughly fifty - the sixteen lancers he had taken with him from Nord, and more than thirty soldiers, mercenaries, men-at-arms, squires, and impassioned civilians. Dreichels felt a notable missing presence on his right - where Roland used to stand. But he was dead and buried, and…
“Chaaaarge!” A knight with red barding urged his steed faster and faster as he led a group of knights right at his encampment, blistering with his younger half-brother’s sigil.
“Not so fast! Shion, sweep and attack!” A loud woman’s voice echoed through the valley, and quick as lightning, a squadron of cavaliers blitzed through Orthros’ knights, taking them off their horses and scattering morale. A young man with blue hair and a terribly large sword led a pack of infantry to clean up, blades swinging and blood flying in wide spurts. Dreichels looked and saw a young woman atop horseback, a satisfied look on her face as they mopped up.
“Let’s finish this! Karel, Karla!” Dreichels pulled his steed around and drew his blade, charging down the rest of the men-at-arms with two more of his trusted allies at his side. It was tiring, gruesome work, war was. But the fighting ended - as it always did - and Dreichels looked up as the young woman approached on horseback, blonde hair flaring in the wind. Her face was set, hard like stone, but there was a light in her eyes that gave Dreichels pause. He had dismounted as combat ended, and her mounted position gave her a height advantage. “I thank you for your assistance, Dame Knight. I am Dreichels Reise Arnor, the Third Prince. Might I have the name of my savior?”
“I believe you were quite alright on your own, but I appreciate the flattery,” the woman dismounted easily, as if she, too, was born and raised in the saddle. “I am Lianne Sandlot, daughter of Count Sandlot of Legram. I lead the Eisenritter, these knights with me.”
“Who hasn’t heard of you?” Dreichels smiled as Lady Sandlot walked up to him, armor shining in the waning sunlight. “It’s almost like you embody a legendary Valkyrie from a childhood’s fairy tale - chivalry, honor, valor. Those sorts of things.”
“As if you do not?” Lady Sandlot raised an eyebrow. “The rumors paint you a pretty picture, Your Highness - returned from the Nord Highlands with your trusted forces to liberate this land.”
“I do not have any of those grand, sweeping ambitions that my half-brothers might,” Dreichels crossed his arms, looking askance for a moment. “I have seen too many destroyed houses and killed citizens for this war to continue. Orthros rules madly from Heimdallr, while Gunnar and Albert set their giant monstrosities against those that do not pay tribute. And Lucius…I do not know. The word of his own giant is enough to unseat my nerves. And yet…
“And yet, I cannot turn my back on this Empire I call home. In the name of my mother, in the name of all those who have died…I fight.”
“I see our hearts are united in purpose,” Lady Sandlot nodded slowly. “I, too, fight for the common folk of this land. Regardless of what blood runs in my veins, I cannot believe the Goddess would have us act thusly. So join with me, Dreichels,” she extended a hand, and the sunlight seemed to emblazon her with a halo. “Let us save this land.”
“Together, then. You seem a trustworthy sort, to gather such allies with you,” Dreichels shook her hand.
“My lady, I must recommend caution,” the youth with blue hair murmured, a tight hand on his greatsword’s hilt.
“I value your prudence, Shion, as ever,” Lady Sandlot let go of his hand and turned to her subordinate. “But if we look ever-towards a knife in the back, we shall never see the open hand at our front. And if there are more knives, then we plate ourselves with heavier armor.”
“As you say, my lady,” Shion sketched a bow. “Allow me to introduce myself, Your Highness. I am Shion Arseid, Lady Sandlot’s second-in-command of the Eisenritter. We’ve heard much about your allies’ prowess and abilities.”
“Then let us join hands together and get to know one another,” Dreichels turned with a grin towards Zeo and Dayan. “Break out the casks and gather your cups! Let us celebrate our newborn friendship!”
“Or…you can follow us back to Lohengrin Castle - where we can offer solid walls and a roof over your heads,” Shion chimed in. “If you barbarians even have houses…”
“Shion,” Lady Sandlot glared at him intensely. “I understand your concern, but that is no cause to speak so rudely of those we are allies with.”
“No worse than things we’ve heard from your countrymen,” Karla raised her head defiantly, a hand on the hilt of her arming sword.
“Peace, peace, one and all!” Dreichels raised his hands in a calming measure. “Let our bygones be bygones. Let us make amends and new friends.”
“I…apologize,” Shion bowed deeply. “It seems we all have things to work on and improve.”
“Shion,” Lady Sandlot rolled her eyes - half-affectionately, half-exasperatedly. “Very well. Assist His Highness with his things and let us get back on the road.”
“Please, call me Dreichels,” Dreichels smiled at Lady Sandlot. “If we are to be allies upon this plane, let us address each other as equals.”
“Then please, call me by my name,” Lady Sandlot - no, Lady Lianne - tipped her head. “I can see that this will be a profound friendship.”
September 4th, 950
“Let’s take a break, shall we?” Dreichels pushed himself up from the table, a weariness in his bones and shoulders. “We’ve been discoursing for the better part of the morning.”
“And yet, we still need a solid plan to deal with Saint-Arkh’s main fortifications,” Lucius chimed in. “I’m not sure when or how the locals purloined some of our other brothers’ Magic Knights, but they host a set of six giants.”
“Zector’ll let me take about…half? Maybe four?” Lucius’ mercenary, Peony, scratched the back of her head. “I’ve got the speed, but…Zector’s not the strongest piece on the field.”
“Please, we have been discussing this for hours. Perhaps some fresh air will do us all some good,” Lianne commented, tapping a finger on the table. Autumn’s brisk breezes whistled through the war tent’s flaps, adding to the ambiance.
“The winds are favorable today. I also suggest pausing for now - once Hassar returns with information regarding Saint-Arkh’s northern gate, we’ll be able to manufacture a more detailed plan,” Zeo added next, stalwart as ever.
“Fie! But the longer we wait, the longer they have time to prepare,” Lucius crossed his arms huffily. His nose reached to the heavens, a symbol of his northern heritage - of all of their father’s concubines, Lucius’ mother hailed from the icy Eisengard Range. “Lady Peony, please ensure that Zector is ready to depart at a moment’s notice.”
“I’m no lady, Your Highness, but we’ll be all set,” Peony gave an ironic salute, suited as it was for a mercenary of her caliber. Her great curved blade had carved through plenty of soldiers and Magic Knights apiece, both on-foot and in her Divine Knight. Dreichels left the tent, squinting at the sudden sunlight.
“That went better than I expected,” Lianne stood next to him, barely reaching his chin. When they were both on horseback they were roughly the same size, but her diminutive height belied her true strength. “I will admit, I had my concerns when Prince Lucius and his Awakener joined our forces, but they have held fast and true.”
“I simply wish we did not have to rely solely on Peony’s efforts,” Dreichels rubbed his chin. “I can only imagine how rough it must be to deal with societal expectations as a woman, especially one in command of mercenary forces and great power.”
“It’s not easy, I will assure you of that,” Lianne chuckled, and Dreichels flushed red.
“Oh! My apologies, my lady, I did not intend to explain things to you that you must be familiar with.”
“It’s endearing. But not to fret. We’ll make our way through this encounter, the same as we have always - goodness!” Lianne paused as she rushed over to a nearby crate. “Dreichels, come look!” He joined her and saw a tired cat, nursing a collection of kittens. “Aren’t they adorable?”
“So this is why we’ve had no rats or vermin the last few weeks since we’ve set up camp here,” Dreichels kneeled down next to Lianne.
“We used to have some hunting cats in Lohengrin, and they - ah, never mind,” Lianne shook her head as she rummaged around in a pocket.
“You seem to have many things on your mind that you do not want others to know about,” Dreichels observed as Lianne pulled out a strip of dried fish. She dangled it over the mother cat’s head, and she smacked it onto the ground. The cat gave it a few tentative sniffs before digging in, letting her kittens eat as well.
“We all have secrets and burdens, Dreichels,” Lianne sat fully on the ground, and that gave the cats a sign that she was trustworthy. A few brave kittens - or foolish ones - climbed up onto her lap, with one particularly daring one digging its razor-sharp claws into her shirt, climbing onto her shoulder. Lianne winced as it used her braid as a stepping-stone before standing triumphantly on top of her head. The kitten gave a victorious yowl, and the mother cat looked on with concerned bemusement.
“Maybe so. But I would hope that as allies and comrades in this fight, we would share our concerns,” Dreichels sat down on his rear, knees aching with the movement. One last stray kitten - a small beast with gray fur and bright yellow eyes - bumped his hand for a pet, which he gave. It flopped to the ground, purring inconsistently and kneading the air. “As our relationship strengthens, so too do our efforts. Affinity.”
“Affinity…” Lianne mused as even more kittens climbed onto her lap and arms. “Very well. Opening up to others has always been a problem of mine…sometimes it feels like I have the entire world’s problems on my shoulders, and by sharing it…it would only burden them without lessening mine own.”
“Now that is a load of hogwash,” Dreichels grunted as the gray kitten turned and sank its claws right into his knee, straight through his trousers. “By sharing concerns, we can ease our burdens. One worry spread over two people is split and evened, not multiplied. But thank you for sharing that. I feel that our relationship has grown with this conversation. May our continued efforts bear more fruitful outcomes.”
“Mayhaps. I’ll tell you my full concerns another time, Dreichels. But I think I have an idea on how to get past those Magic Knights at Saint-Arkh,” Lianne scooped off all the kittens and placed them down, standing up in a smooth motion. The mother cat got to her feet as well, stretching deeply and cantering after Lianne as she made her way back to the war tent, the cat’s tail flaring like a flag. All her kittens followed after her dutifully, except for the one that still had its claws stuck to Dreichel’s pants.
“Alright, little one. Up we go.” He carefully disentangled its claws and raised it up - a boy, by any means. “Hmm. I’ll call you ‘Leif’. Let’s go, shall we?” He deposited Leif on his shoulder and the cat held on valiantly.
Thankfully no one commented on their feline guests as Lianne detailed her plan to infiltrate Saint-Arkh through the sewers.
June 29th, 951
“So…how do you want me to address you?” Dreichels looked up, scratching the back of his head.
“I am Valimar, the Ashen Knight. I need no further titles,” Valimar’s core lit up.
“You seem…much quieter than Argreion.”
“The Argent Knight has been Awakened for several years now,” Valimar continued, and Dreichels could sense Lianne approaching. “As I continue to function, I will regain more of my emotional and vocal abilities.”
“I wish you wouldn’t share my secrets like that, but there’s not much I can hide for longer,” Lianne mused as she stood at Dreichels’ side. “But yes, he says it true. I Awakened Argreion almost nine years ago.”
“Did the Witch help you?”
“Roselia did, yes,” Lianne continued, eyes lost in memories. “She guided me through the trials at Lohengrin. My, how time flies…”
“Wait, in Lohengrin? Nine years ago? But you must have been…”
“I was but a young maiden of sixteen summers when I passed the trials,” Lianne chuckled. “But I chose to seal Argreion’s power away. Her abilities are too strong, too potent.”
“Why do you say that?”
“If I used Argreion’s full might - her true strength - there might not be a world left,” Lianne said gravely, and Dreichels’ heart skipped a beat.
“Yes. Argreion is a Divine Knight of the upper echelon - as such, her power is leagues above my own,” Valimar added to the conversation. “However, that strength will be needed for the Vermillion Knight.”
“Still, I thank you for your assistance,” Dreichels nodded a few times. “And I will need more training.”
“Well, first, you will need a weapon,” Roselia appeared in a flurry of what was presumably magic. “Your trials have really only just begun.”
“Ah, there you are, old friend,” Lianne smiled at the witch. “Have the Spirit Shrines regained their ore?”
“In response to four Knights cavorting ‘round the continent, they are flush with metal,” Roselia replied in that odd way of hers. “This will take some time.”
“We’re at a stalemate anyway,” Dreichels grumbled, kicking at the ground. “It’s as if…Orthros is waiting for something.”
“He is, like all humans, dramatic and overbearing,” Roselia said dramatically, her magic staff on full display. “As a fellow Awakener, he can sense Valimar’s arrival. As such, he will wait until the field is ripe - when you get a weapon of suitable caliber and quality.”
“With a weapon composed of Zemurian Ore, I will be able to function at my fullest capability,” Valimar explained helpfully. At least someone was on his side. “Preparing Spirit Vein travel.”
“I’m sorry?” Dreichels raised an eyebrow.
“No, not yet. We’ll depart come tomorrow’s morn, so ready your troops and back-up plans,” Roselia began to vanish in another burst of magic. “This will only take a week or so regardless! Ta!” And with that, she was gone.
“Despite being my friend, she can be quite tiresome,” Lianne pinched the bridge of her nose. The light filtered through her hair and Dreichels stilled his heart. It wasn’t that he was unaware of his friend’s beauty and grace, but…goodness. “Regardless, we are well on our way to ending this war.”
“Yes. I could not do it without you at my side, Lianne. I hope you know that.”
“I do. And I could not continue without your efforts either.”
“Before we met…I lost a good friend of mine,” Dreichels admitted, heart beating in his chest. “His name was Roland, and he was my closest ally. He was the one person I told when I left for Nord five years ago, and he was the one who then reminded me of my duty. He was taciturn and stoic, but he had a wicked sense of humor.”
“How…how did he die?”
“He gave his life for mine. An arrow would have slipped past a gap in my armor, and…he was there. To protect me,” Dreichels placed a hand on his chest, mirroring where the arrow would have gone. “He had mentioned off-hand once that he had sired a child, and I have tried to find them, but with this war…”
“Dreichels,” Lianne interrupted him, and looked into his eyes. “We’ll find the child. Together. Once this war is done, we’ll keep striving to make this world a better place for all. And…thank you. For sharing that with me.”
“It was only right that you knew,” Dreichels stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “You met me at a dark place in my life. Despite having lived with the Nords for three years, I had never opened up to them as deeply as I did with Roland when we were young. Not saying I do not trust them - they have all been stalwart companions in this battle of ours - but…there was always a distance.”
“You also did not want to get hurt again. Letting someone close means vulnerability…and as the Third Prince in charge of an army and with a Divine Knight…I, too, understand your feelings,” Lianne mused, the wind tousling her hair. “As leaders in this army, we cannot show weakness or fallibility before our soldiers. But rest assured, Dreichels…you are safe with me.”
“As you are with me. Thank you for hearing me out, Lianne.”
“Likewise,” she turned to leave, and he saw a faint glimmer of filigreed steel armor around her form. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Aye. Until then,” Dreichels waved farewell, and Lianne left him and Valimar. She had lodged herself into his heart, it seemed.
May 13th, 952
“Dreichels? You seem to have been avoiding me lately,” Lianne popped up behind him, and he almost fell out of his chair. “Is something the matter?”
“No! No, not at all,” he collected his thoughts, his scattered letters at his desk. “I’ve just been…busy.”
“Dreichels, you don’t need to lie to me like that,” Lianne sat down lightly on the edge of his desk. “We’ve been at this stalemate for the better part of a year now. What’s changed?”
His heart, really. But he couldn’t say that. “Nothing! I…I think I hear Valimar calling for me. We’ll talk later,” he abruptly rose and did NOT run out of his tent, leaving Lianne confused. He felt a small ring bounce in his inner jacket pocket, its intended recipient behind him. Ah, Goddess. What was he even doing?
“Dreichels, don’t you run from me!” Lianne chased after him, and even with his longer legs she kept a steady pace behind him. “Two years we’ve been allies and friends, do not think I do not know how you work!”
“Yes, yes, I know!” Dreichels tugged his coat closer around his torso, heading towards Valimar.
“You’ve oft said how close we are, as comrades! Was that a lie?” Lianne almost barked, but she was too polite to do that.
“No, it wasn’t! We…I…” he stopped as he arrived at Valimar’s side.
“Dreichels. Argent Awakener,” Valimar’s core brightened at their presence. “To what do I owe your company?”
“Actually, Valimar, a favor,” Lianne stood at Dreichels’ side and distinctly did not look at him. “I’ve been Argreion’s mistress for nearly a decade. Might it be possible for me to see inside your cockpit?”
“For what purpose? You cannot polite me,” Valimar replied.
“Do I get no say in this?” Dreichels looked between his two friends.
“You do not,” Lianne smirked, crossing her arms. “It would just be for evidence and knowledge.”
“Very well. Teleporting.” There was a flash of light and Dreichels found himself in Valimar’s cockpit, a diminutive blonde warrior right on his lap.
“Valimar!” Dreichels reared back in the small, compressed space.
“Explain yourself!” Lianne’s hackles rose, not unlike a cat’s.
“There is limited phase space here. While there is room for a familiar, I had to make do.”
“Valimar, you’re such a liar,” Dreichels rubbed his eyes tiredly as Lianne shifted her weight. “But very well. This is Valimar.”
“My…how interesting,” Lianne mused. “Can you show me the startup sequence?”
“Why not,” Dreichels pushed his feelings back into the depths of his heart, which also cheerfully confirmed that Lianne was just as warm as he imagined. He pulled the big right hand lever down, activating the main viewport before them. Magical displays burst to life as well, more cranks and levers rising from the depths at his fingertips. “But yes…this is what I’ve seen when fighting. Is Argreion similar?”
“Yes and no. It’s hard to put it into words,” Lianne leaned back, the crown of her head nestling at the hollow of his throat. “But Dreichels…now that we’re in here alone…I want an answer. Do you dislike my company?”
“No! That couldn’t be farther from the truth!” Dreichels reassured her, and his hands itched to circle her waist. “These last two years have been everything. I count you as a partner and a friend. But…”
“But…? What?”
His feelings wanted to tumble out of his throat.
“Never mind,” Lianne shook her head and moved to stand up. “We - “
“No, please,” he took her wrist, and she sat back down. Etiquette stated that this was extremely inappropriate but…he had to say this. “It’s just that…we’ve shared this journey, the two of us. At first you were an ally, a comrade, a fighter…and then a friend. Someone who knows me as a fellow Awakener, more than I know Peony or even Orthros. And then…I realized…you were more than just a friend to me.”
“Dreichels…?” She shifted in place to look at him.
“This is what I see from Valimar. It’s lonely in here, true, but…I’ve always known you’re at my side. Let me speak true - I care for you, as a man - and you as a woman.”
“Dreichels - “
“Let me finish, please!” He interrupted her.
“When you’re this worked up, Dreichels…”
“I don’t care! I’ve had this bottled up for a long while now, and I’m going to say what I’m going to say, even if we both die by embarrassment!”
“By all means…?”
He took a few deep breaths - perhaps a bit too overdramatic, but it suited the moment. “Lianne…I love you.” She made a soft, breathless noise, and he continued. “Maybe from when we first met, when you saved me. I just didn’t realize until lately. I want to share a life with you. And…I realize that this might be too forward, and I’m coming on too strongly, and if you choose to be friends, I will respect that decision, but…I don’t want to let you go. Does that make me selfish?”
Lianne looped her arms around his neck. “Then let me be selfish, too. I’ve always felt lonely, when I pilot Argreion…but knowing you’re here, in Valimar…we can be together. Our hearts…they share a similar beat.”
“Wait, does that mean…?”
“I love you as well, Dreichels,” Lianne leaned back and pulled out a small, sheathed blade. “We know not what the next day will bring, but…I won’t let you go. I want you to have this.” She pressed it into his hands.
“A blade?”
“A dirk. I talked with Zeo, Karel, Karla, Guy, Hassar, and all the others. It’s a tradition from Legram for one to bequeath their beloved a weapon so that they can protect themselves. I forged this with Zemurian Ore, so that it will remain unbroken. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but…will you take this?”
“I will,” Dreichels gratefully accepted the dagger. “If…if you’ll take this?” He pulled out the ring, a small piece with an emerald. “I know I can’t afford to propose here-and-now, but…a promise. That once this war is over, we’ll talk about everything. Our future. I’d like it to be shared with you.”
“Very well. I’ll wear it.” He pushed the ring onto the designated digit, and reached up to brush away her tears.
“If I might ask one more favor from you?”
“Ask.”
“Might I kiss you?”
She trailed a hand down his face before cupping the back of his neck. “All you ever have to do is ask.” She pressed her lips to his in a brief, chaste, brush. Once, twice. His arms crushed her closer to him, tracing the line of her hips and the curve of her waist. They embraced a few moments more before Valimar reminded them of his presence.
“Please do not engage in coitus in here.”
“Valimar!” Dreichels pressed his forehead into Lianne’s neck, and then used the opportunity to nibble at the sensitive skin there. She hissed in response, pulling at his hair to guide him lower to her exposed collarbone. There was a flash of light and Dreichels found himself lying face down in the dirt, Lianne’s prone form atop him. “Goddess damn it.” Lianne laughed brightly, freely, to the spring sun, and he joined her.
July 4th, 952
They spent the rest of May and June in one of their cots, talking long and deep into the night. Of course, things would never end well for Dreichels - fate itself conspired against him. As July dawned on Erebonia, Orthros awakened the Vermillion Apocalypse, slaying almost all of Gunnar and Albert’s army and draining the land of mana. Peony and Zector had ridden out as well…only to never come back home. Green Zemurian Ore littered the battlefield, drenched red with a mercenary’s blood. But that wouldn’t stop Dreichels or Lianne - they gathered their forces, marched on Heimdallr, and ascended the Infernal Castle, and confronted his mad half-brother.
“It’s over, Orthros!” Dreichels pointed his broadsword at one of his last living relatives. Lianne and his Nord allies stood with him, Valimar and Argreion ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. “We have you surrounded and outnumbered! Surrender, and let people live!”
“No, no, no!” Orthros raved, froth building at his lips. “It won’t end like this! I refuse to let it end like this! You, my older half-brother…you MUST die! For my ambitions! For the world to heal and grow!”
“Heal? Grow? You’re insane!” Lianne’s lance rose to a ready position. “You have slaughtered innocents and devastated countless lands! In the name of the Goddess, for the dead, and for the living, you must be stopped!”
“Arise! I call out your name! Testa-Rossa! The Vermillion Apocalypse!” Orthros turned and raised a hand, a massive red giant forming from a gateway to Gehenna.
“Not so fast!” Roselia teleported into the arena, staff at the ready to ward off Testa-Rossa’s first attack. “Dreichels! Lianne! The time has come to end this fairytale!”
“Heed my summons! Valimar, the Ashen Knight!” Dreichels raised his hand, and his trusty ally appeared.
“To me! Argreion, the Argent Knight!” Argreion manifested in all her glory, and they prepared themselves for a battle. Compared to his beloved attacks, Valimar’s blows were like bug bites, but the least he could do was keep Testa-Rossa’s attention on himself so that Lianne could deal damage. It had been their main strategy for the last while, and it seemed to work against the Vermillion Apocalypse. His heart burst with power and courage, driving his sword against his half-brother’s weapons.
“Prepare for the Thousand Weapons of the Red Demon!!” Orthros’ voice echoed through the castle, and spears burst from the floor. Dreichels was able to dodge most of them, but…
“Dreichels!” Lianne pushed him out of the way as Testa-Rossa’s tail shot from the floor and impaled Argreion straight through the chest, shattering her lance in the process.
“LIANNE!!”
“I’m fine!” She tore out the offending appendage and countered with a ray of light. “We must keep going!” So they fought. And like with every other battle, they were eventually successful - Roselia appeared to reseal the Vermillion Apocalypse away as Orthros passed into unconsciousness on the floor. But…
But…
“Lianne!” Dreichels teleported out of Valimar and rushed towards Argreion, with a hole in its chest. “Please…!”
“Ah…I’m sorry, Dreichels,” Argreion began to fade away as Lianne landed on one knee, a gaping hole in her chest seeping blood-red.
“LIANNE!” He rushed to her side and cradled her close to his chest. “Rose, please! Heal her!”
“I…cannot. The wound is fatal,” Roselia shook her head as she approached. “This is the fate of those who seek to change the world.”
“Then damn fate and damn the world!” Dreichels grit out, and felt a dark presence looming overhead.
“Rose…thank you for everything…kind-hearted witch…” Lianne grit out.
“Save your farewells! You’ll make it through this, I swear!”
“No…I’m simply sorry that I must say goodbye now,” Lianne took a deep, ragged breath before coughing up blood. “The evils that Divine Knights can wreak on this world are unthinkable…I make peace with my responsibility. Argreion will rest.”
“Quit talking nonsense, Lianne!”
“Oh, Dreichels…the two years we had meant everything to me…” she reached up to stroke his beard, the light quickly leaving her eyes. “Tell the others - Shion, Zeo, and all the rest - my last thoughts were for their safety and happiness. And Dreichels…may we meet again…in a better, kinder life…”
“LIAAAAAANNE!!” He cried into her hair as blood dripped onto stone.
“Let me take her home. Go, Emperor Dreichels,” Roselia’s staff rung against the hollow stone. “The war is done. Erebonia needs you.”
“Yes. I know.” He laid Lianne down on the ground with his shattered heart, closing her eyes reverently. “Lianne has secured for us a future. It falls on us to protect that. I vow to you all here - I will do everything in my power to heal this world of ours. Lianne…watch over us from the Goddess’ side.” He squeezed her hand one last time - and left to fix the world they so dearly loved, her dirk at his side.
As The Years Pass
Time is something that the young loathe and the old cherish, and that is a mentality Dreichels adopted as he began his reign as the 73rd Erebonian Emperor. He enshrined Orthros’ bastard clan as Duke Cayenne, doled out reparations to those affected, and built systems to help those in need. He regretfully sealed Valimar away under Thors, near where he had first found him, but he had faith that a worthy successor would one day reawaken Valimar. People around the nation began to forget that Divine Knights and Magic Knights existed, and even saw magic at work change textbooks and official accounts.
At least Dreichels had managed to find Roland’s son, Martin, after some digging and quickly raised him like his own son. That was really his last connection with the past - Zeo took his allies back north to their home, and Shion took over leadership of Legram. Dreichels wed a kind woman - Evelyn - and had children with her, but they both knew his heart was not fully involved. He still carried a torch for Lianne - poor, dead, deceased, Lianne - who quickly became enshrined as a Church-appointed Saint.
But the worst part of everything - not wrangling the noble houses, or helping those affected by the war, or setting up Erebonia to be prosperous - was the whispers. Oh, not a mortal’s words, those could hardly bother him as he aged, but instead a loathsome baritone by the name of Ishmelga. It claimed to be a fearsome Divine Knight, greater in power than Valimar and Argreion, but Dreichels was a wiser man than in the past, and knew that power without a visible price always caused chaos and death. But like many men, it had a hard time hearing no.
But as the decades passed, he heard an odd rumor - that Lianne Sandlot was alive and well, traveling the nation. Which brought him to…
May 13th, 994
“Relinquish it to me…it belongs to me…your soul…your ENTIRE being…”
“You never tire of this, do you?” Dreichels shifts in bed slightly, Ishmelga’s thoughtform hovering in a shadow by a window. He was an old, feeble man, blessed with children and grandchildren, and yet…good grief. “You are a delusional fellow. Repulsive and reprehensible without a shred of dignity…so unlike Valimar.”
“Compared to me, the Ashen Knight is nothing but scrap metal…destined for the midden heap,” Ishmelga roiled in place, countless eyes blinking. “Accept it! Lionhearted Dreichels, you deserve the best! To pilot me, to chart your own path against fate’s whims!”
“Dreichels?” A familiar voice interrupted their debate, and he twisted to see the door to his bedroom open.
“A thousand curses…” Ishmelga began to vanish into nothingness. “The Argent Whore…heed me well, Dreichels! You shall never escape my grasp! No matter where you flee…where your soul runs…I shall hound you until the ends of the EARTH!” With that, sunlight heralded Lianne’s appearance, sending Ishmelga scurrying.
“Dreichels…what was that?” Lianne knocked a shoulder against the door.
“Ah, that? Never mind for now. It’s been an age and a half, Lianne…” Dreichels wheezed, pushing himself up slightly. “You haven’t changed an iota since we last met…no, if anything, you’ve become more beautiful than ever.”
“Heehee…your flattery won’t work on me,” Lianne looked to the side, but from the flush in her cheeks, she was charmed. “I presume Rose told you what happened?”
“Only a month or so ago. Of how you woke after six months and traveled the world in secret. You promised me we’d share a future together…and yet you’ve left me here alone, to become a curmudgeonly old man.”
“Even so…my thoughts have always been with you,” Lianne sat at the bedside stool, hands wrapping around of his own, etched with age. “Your and Evelyn’s children have grown up wonderfully. I can see your bloodline will be blessed with many descendants. I only regret that I could not have given you the same…still, I am happy.”
“Lianne…”
“Now please, tell me,” Lianne looked him in the eyes. “What was that earlier? That darkness…how long has it been haunting you? And why?”
“Always straight to business…very well. If I might ask a favor of you before I pass…heed me well,” Dreichels began, pulling his blanket up a bit higher. “That was Ishmelga. A Divine Knight of such great power it gives me fear - I understand how you felt when you were but a youth. Its strength could destroy the world, and it seeks me as its pilot. I fear that with me as its avatar, it will bring ruin.”
“Dreichels…”
“For the last forty-odd years, it’s been in my dreams and thoughts. Tempting me. It will not let my soul go. So if I might ask - please. If this weary soul of mine ever returns to this mortal coil…”
“I swear, I shall spend however long it takes to find you again, so that we can be together,” Lianne squeezed his hand tightly. “And I will find a way to stop Ishmelga. This I swear to you.”
“Thank you, Lianne…but before I go…might I see one last smile?”
“Of course.” Lianne let go to wipe her cheeks, but she gave him a cheerful, teary-eyed smile. “I love you, Dreichels. Never forget that.”
“As I…you…” he began to drift to sleep, eyes shutting with a whisper. He felt Lianne press a kiss to his worried brow, and heard her leave the room.
“Now…now that she is gone…” Ishmelga’s thoughts brushed his own, and he buried a sigh of annoyance. “If you accept my offer, you can live to see her again! To join her forever - DREICHEEEEEEEELS!”
“Heed this, demon,” he grit out, feeling his heart slow down, “my soul will never be yours! Let the choking crush of defeat echo throughout whatever gives you strength! Ha…haha…” And with that, he entered the Goddess’ embrace.
April 22nd, 1192
Please, please, please. Don’t be too late. Lianne rushed towards the Osborne estate, guided by the raging fires that reached high into the heavens. She heard the crackle of gunfire and pained grunts, but most of all, she felt Ishmelga’s wretched aura stretching over the suburbs. But not this time. Argreion’s silvered light guided her towards Dreichels, dueling with a few jaegers but clearly overwhelmed - he was fighting with his left hand, and his right hung at an awkward angle, covered in blood. A woman lay in a pool of her blood, and Dreichels was guarding a young boy with floppy blue-black hair. But they weren’t alone.
“Michael Spear!” She launched her lance with all her strength, completely overpowering two of the jaegers coming to fight Dreichels. They shared a glance - a shock of realization - as they turned towards the rest of their foes. There was a rush of combat - of magic and strife - and the night hung still and quiet as Ishmelga’s thoughtform fled into the night.
“Lianne…? Is that you…?” Dreichels whispered. She laid a hand on his arm -
And the rest, as you know, is illuminated by the Morning Sun.