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Her heart falls into her stomach when she sees the Black Knight waiting for them in the tower. He asked for her hand, pushed for her to come with him to this place. Now she is here, but not on his terms, and they stand on opposite sides.
Ike is the first to step forward, hand already drawn to his blade. Apparently, Sir Knight killed Ike's father before his very eyes. It's not difficult to imagine the scene in her mind, though of course she would prefer not to. She would prefer to run forward and stop the violence before it comes, but Yune pushes against her joints and holds her in place.
This is madness. The fate of the universe weighs on all of their shoulders, but still Ike sticks out a hand, commanding that no one follow him. Half of their little army has already fought alongside the Black Knight, yet no one feels the impetus to stop this war before it begins. No one but Micaiah, who has the excuse of a Chaos God puppetting her away from doing anything against their orders.
It can't even be that important to stop the Black Knight. But among the layers and layers of black armor rimmed with silver, he stands still as a statue. His blade, Alondite, rests perfectly perpendicular to the floor. He has been waiting, and his head bobs up gently from his guard to look at Ike. Slowly, the tip of his blade swings upright towards the ceiling. It's this masculine bravado that too often guides both him and Ike, and now they are going to kill each other.
Though when the Black Knight does take a moment to finally observe the entirety of Ike's army, his gaze pauses when it passes over Micaiah. His head dips back down and he halts his scanning, turning back to Ike, a bit more restless than before.
"I don't understand," Ike grunts, unsheathing Ragnell with one arm. "I killed you. The castle walls, they — how?"
The Black Knight lowers his craned neck, the helm tilting to the left curiously. "It is telling how untrained you were to notice how little effort I threw into that battle."
A whisper. His voice is still a whisper. Micaiah once thought he spoke like that because of how his lungs were surely crushed under the rubble of an entire castle. But no, he speaks quietly not because he is weak. It is because he is powerful; he doesn't need to try.
"I beat you though," Ike smirks to himself.
"Hmph," the Black Knight scoffs, swipes at the air, slicing through the very fabric of the empty space around them. Light scatters from the silver tip and runs between the tiles in the floor, momentarily blowing Ike's cape off his back. "I overestimated how much I should underestimate you. Very shameful on my part. It's why I disappeared for three years. But now that doesn't matter. You killed the Mad King and now you think you can vanquish a God. But you shan't get past me. Not this time, Ike."
"You're underestimating me again," Ike rests the heft of his blade over his shoulder, neck stretching with the tilt and pulling on all of his muscles. "I'm stronger than ever now. You can't stop me."
"Exactly. You're strong now. So I'll have to give it my all and that is something no one can take. Least of all, you."
"Ike," a gruff voice says from behind. It's the blue haired Gallian, the retainer to their future king.
Ike turns on his heel to see a barrier of spiritual blue energy rising from the cracks between tiles, cutting him off from his army. Ranulf stands on the other side of the emerging wall with bags under his eyes. "Whatever you do, don't unmask him. Cut his head clean off if you have to, but do not damage that helmet."
Theblue energy rises past Ike's lips, already beginning to blot out their sound. Ike lunges at the barrier and rattles an open palm against it. "What do you mean, Ranulf? Don't unmask him?! Do you know who he is? Do you — "
Ranulf would have shaken his head by now, casually sworn off that he doesn't know anything, that he's just trying to sound smart. But he doesn't. He stays perfectly still.
Ike's eyes widen and his pupils dilate. It's the first time Micaiah thinks that she sees Ike hurt. Obviously, the Black Knight killed his father, but she had no idea that he carried such conviction towards this man. One of their deaths is inevitable. What can she do?
"Ranulf. Why didn't you tell me?"
Ranulf clenches his jaw and turns away, avoiding eye contact with the other mercenaries. Ike's brow furrows deeper and for a moment he appears to consider slashing this barrier apart with Ragnell. But then the Black Knight beckons to him. It's faint, almost impossible to hear with the rising barrier sealing away even soundwaves. There are no lips to read either, but somehow, Micaiah can tell.
"I'd suggest ordering your army to strike. My own personal forces are about to strike."
Ike rolls his shoulders back and nods to Ranulf, mouthing something to him. The Gallian nods back, and motions the correct orders for the Greil Mercenaries, and they take flight. Micaiah misses the cue, so Sothe takes it and begins to strategize quickly with the Dawn Brigade.
Whoever this Black Knight is — he must be someone Ike knows. Knowing who that is will only hurt him, so surely Ike will disobey Ranulf and unmask the Knight. Because that's how things seem to go around here.
Ike looks back at the Black Knight, sword sliding from the nape of his neck and dropping down to the floor.
"Come on boy. Come try me," the Black Knight laughs and instantaneously, Ike screams bloody murder and charges. It's bizarre, she's never seen him this emotional. What did he just say? What did that mean? Why would it curdle Ike's heart so?
Damn Ranulf. He shouldn't have mentioned anything about the helm. He only put more emphasis on the ending to this — she can't watch. She won't let herself watch, so she moves.
She runs at the barrier, hands glowing, bones searing from the strain against Yune, and pounds at with what little strength she has. Not one of the Greil Mercenaries, nor the Dawn Brigaders, notice her breaking rank.
But one man does notice.
Back in the desert, the Black Knight offered his hand to the Silver-Haired-Maiden and asked her to follow him to this place. She said no, but now she is here. These are not the ideal conditions. She cannot protect her here, not when she refused. Like everyone else in this room, they are his fodder. He has been ordered to kill them. He can't refuse. He's not like Micaiah. He's not strong.
His Maiden pounds against the barrier, an odd blue light pluming like a storm in her eyes. Unless it is a new technique she picked up in the past few months, something seems to be wrong with her. She tries to scream, even from afar, he can see the strain in her throat. It tightens and convulses and though he can't hear her voice, he understands. Her mouth becomes small and white lips tremble, mouthing two words: Sir Knight.
Why. Why must this be happening now?
An unseen force tightens Micaiah's throat again and shoves her backwards. That Sothe boy grips from behind and guides her away, though her head threatens to crack her neck with the rapidity of glances she tosses over her shoulder to keep her eyes on him, her brave Sir Knight who is about to fall her most powerful adversary, dooming her army to defeat. Oh, Maiden. How he wishes to caress her hair, massage her scalp. He would need to ask Ike for a recess so that he can assure his maiden that he will not die.
Maybe it's egomaniacal for him to think that way. Maybe she knows what he is about to do to Ike and she wants to save him.
Or — save the Black Knight from himself. His feelings are transparent, at least around her. She knows why he fights. It's because he has nothing yet seeks everything. Killing Ike will prove — something. This whole duel is fueled by both parties' ego. Ike can swear up and down he fights the Black Knight for the greater good, because the Black Knight is evil. Yes, he is bad. If allowed to live, surely he will wander the plains of Tellius and seek out more fathers to vanquish…
Oh drat. In all his musings, he under-estimated Ike again. The behemoth is paces away, swinging for the Black Knight's chest. Alondite barely makes it in time. The swords press together, and he tries to shove Ike away, but Ike draws back quicker than the Black Knight can react, and moves in. Ike's subsequent swings don't come any closer than before, but they are too quick to calculate for, and too strong to do anything but defend.
The Black Knight feels his iron boots drag against the stone below. Astonishing that he is so weak when matched against this fool. He finds something within and ignores Ike's swing to his shoulder, lunging at the boy's head. Ike withdraws from what might have disarmed his opponent, throwing himself out of destruction's way but still taking a blow to the head. Sticky blood drips down his neck from above the ear.
A brief lapse in combat. The Black Knight looks over from Ike to see Micaiah, distracted, fighting off his men, killing them, all while staring directly at the Black Knight as if she knows where his eyes are beyond the mask.
He turns back to Ike. This is all wrong. Not now. He could help them kill Ashera perhaps. Continue the duel later. Let it not stand in the way of the fate of mankind. It wouldn't be the first time The Black Knight betrayed someone. "Ike — "
Ike's pupils contract within widening eyes. It gives the Black Knight pause. Did he inadvertently kill the boy? Because he wasn't trying to, not yet, the swipe at the ear was just a warning blow —
"Your voice," Ike whispers. "I know you. You're — " He rolls a fist against his blue locks. " — I can't place it, but you talk like — like — someone I know. It's a familiar sound."
The Black Knight bows his head respectfully. His whisper rasps more than usual. "It should be. Ike — "
"Shut up."
Wow. First time anyone ever told him to do that. He chuckles, it's hard not to. Momentarily allows his sword to drift to a more playful stance.
"I don't want to know. Ranulf is right," Ike grunts and charges forward, swinging his sword at the Black Knight's neck. A little obvious honesty, The Black Knight manages to block the blow, his own sword shoving into the overhang of his own helm. Ike pulls back as if his own sword is light as a feather and cracks it into the side of the helmet.
It's not enough to unmask him. But when the black Knight rises from the thundering pain in his neck, he notices a shard of the blessed metal fall past his line of vision. Not enough to make his flesh visible, but it is the worst damage he's ever sustained since pledging to Lehran that he would do this. The metal drops into his palm and he skips it against the floor.
"I thought you were going to take your friend's advice and just outright kill me," the Black Knight swings at the air, spreading his shoulders wide. "Did you really think that would have been enough? Or do you — "
Ike stares back at him in disbelief, choking for his own gasps of air even though he's uninjured.
The Black Knight continues. " — just enjoy games of cat and mouse? Because I'm here — "
Ike rushes at him, sword raised high. ThE black Knight knows he should stop talking and focus on the fight, but when the boy is so illy put together, he sees no reason not to try talking the boy to death. He smiles, thankful that Micaiah can't see what ugly, devilish delight he takes in this humiliation, and lazily raises Alondite to his chest where it blocks a downward swing from Ike.
" — to duel you to the death, Ike. If you want to know who I am, I would happily oblige in telling you."
"Shut up and fight me."
"We're fighting? I hardly noticed."
A shard of the Black Knight's helm collapses to the floor. He's going to get himself killed. Though Micaiah doesn't know whom she means when she imagines he. It might be them both for all she knows. They're equally matched.
But Yune won't let her stop them, won't let them hear her plea. She rattles against her own body for control but Yune pushes her back, puppeting her limbs to cast spells on these soldiers, sapping them of all life on the spot. But Yune can't stop Micaiah from at least looking, from at least knowing.
Only when the Black Knight loses some of his helmet does Micaiah look away from him finally, and she finds Sothe. He can help her.
"Sothe, help me," she whispers.
Sothe freezes in place, knife absently crossing the neck of some sage. He frowns and shakes his head. "Micaiah… you knew this would happen. You know what the Black Knight did."
"Yes, Micaiah," Yune speaks. Whenever she comes to Micaiah's lips, Micaiah feels cold all over. A rush storms through her throat asking her to vomit from the revulsion. But she's kind of used to feeling so violated now. "Let them be. Don't make me silence you. Be grateful for what control I allow you."
Micaiah bites her lip and against her better judgment, tries. "Sothe, I lo—"
"No, no! None of that!" Yune shrieks, clamping Micaiah's jaw tight, everything going numb at once. "No more!"
Too late though. Sothe's eyes go wide, like he's seen a ghost. "You lo—… him?! Oh no." He collects himself fast and cups his hands to his mouth. "Dawn Brigade! Operation Godkiller!"
Before Micaiah — or rather, Yune — can react, Nolan jumps out from seemingly nowhere and wraps the girl's thin arms behind her back. Blue flames start to kick up from the floor, smoke slipping between the cracks in her eyes, but Edward and Leonardo come in with the save, each taking an arm, tilting Yune backwards so that her feet kick off the floor.
"Unhand me, you — "
Laura rushes forward, staff glowing with light. Just as Yune begins to slip from the grip of the three men, Laura lunges her staff forward and light splinters out, nailing the Goddess in the chest, pushing her backwards. Quickly followed by another set of dark magic from King Pelleas, whose face pales at the sight of the writhing Micaiah.
"It's okay, Pelleas, you're not hurting her," Sothe signals, scanning the room fast. Sothe is a good second-in-command, like Micaiah, he is empathetic, though he does play that down when he's around Ike, the father of his children,ugh.
But all of Laura and Pelleas's strength is not enough. The magic is blinding to look at it, but even then, Yune will break free from it and kill of them for being such traitorous whelps.
But then Fiona and Meg catch Sothe's eye, and they rush in to form a second perimeter. They read their blades. Even Jill disbands from her current combat to aid in the efforts. If Nolan, Edward, and Leonardo fall, then Yune will have to deal with the next round of Brigaders. And if they fall? Zihark, Volug, and Tormod.
"Who else do we have…" Sothe mutters to himself. "Oh! Hey! Ilyana! Over here! Remember Operation Godkiller?"
"Oh," though Ilyana's sighs are softer than a pillow, they come out of her throat like a punch. "Do you need me?"
Sothe bites his lip and nods vigorously. Don't insult the mage that's about to save your best friend's life. Ilyana saunters forward and calls a bolt of lightning down, and finally the magic gets strong enough. The blue fire consumes Micaiah's eyes and a spectre lifts from her chest, separate from the hold any of the Dawn Brigaders have…
… it's a little girl …
… the Goddess is a little girl …
…
Good thing Devdan — or um, Danved? — isn't on the Dawn Brigade. Dude wouldn't be able to handle the grief of that.
"Meg! Fiona! Jill! Tauro—"
Sothe really doesn't need to say their names, they tackle the spectre to the floor, piling on without any hesitation.
Micaiah looks around the room wildly, trying to regain her bearings. Sothe runs over and grabs her by the shoulders, steering her over to the phantasmal blue wall. "You got this?"
Micaiah stutters for a second, and then closes her eyes and lifts her hand high. Yellow light bursts from her palms, and it burns against the blue, like an ax grinding against stone. Everything is hot. Sothe squeezes Micaiah's bicep and he feels her kick it up a notchand finally —
— a hole opens in the wall —
— Micaiah drops the spell and darts away from Sothe, stepping through the gap —
— and it closes back up again. She turns back to Sothe and waves at him playfully, before running off after the Black Knight.
Right… Micaiah is not rushing in to help Ike, she's helping the Black Knight of all people — oh goodness. It's like she's testing him for admiring Ike so much.
Something hits Sothe from behind like a club. His body spins and tumbles into the wall. The puffy face of Yune cranes over him, and her little hand wraps tightly around his throat.
"What — did — you — do — ?"
"Uh, to be honest, I have no idea."
Micaiah vaults head so fast that her cape drifts into the air, shimmering while running parallel to the floor. She blinks away tears, hands pulling another spell out of thin air. She's never done anything like this before. But she ducks under Ike's bicep, his sword skimming her back as it arcs into the air, and she twists between the two men and slams the air between them.
Two yellow barriers materialize, catching both swords in the air, exploding at the touch, and propelling both warriors ten feet back, each stooped over. Each pulling desperately for air.
They rise at the same time, and stay low, running ahead, everything moving too quickly for them to even notice Micaiah. It's their mutual bloodlust for one another, but she trusts that they will see her if she makes herself seen. She believes in both of them, loves both of them — in different ways that is. But as they close in on their target, they finally notice frail Micaiah in the center of it all. Their swords thump against their thighs as they straighten their backs.
"Micaiah…"
"Maiden…"
Micaiah takes in a deep breath. She throws her voice far and wide, and it strains her throat from the lack of use. Yune's control was the only thing giving her life for so long, and now she's back to mortal living.
"You will not kill each other." Her voice waivers, and she can tell they both notice. "Please. Please please please, stop fighting. Can't you see what's happening?"
"Uh, no," Ike shakes his head. "Micaiah, out of the way. Now."
The Black Knight finally looks up from Micaiah, the slit in his helm level with Ike's cold eyes. "I hate to agree with Ike but… this must happen… Micaiah. It's… destiny."
Micaiah. Not Maiden. For once, he calls her by her true name. Is that significant? She wants it to be. She wants to pay it forward. How she wants to know Ranulf's secret so she can call her Sir Knight by his true name too. At the very least, that will be one outcome of this. No more masks.
Ike is the first to sneak in a swing; she is thankful that it wasn't her Sir Knight to try such an endeavor. Though after her magic lashes out and catches Ike's sword, the Black Knight fails to hold himself back and tries to end Ike's life. She catches his sword too. And winces. He hits a lot harder.
Because of her Brand, Micaiah can perform magic that is beyond her technique. But there is a price. Two fine cuts embed themselves into her palms. Ike and the Black Knight swing again and she catches Alondite and Ragnell without hesitation, and the cuts go deeper. She bites her lip. Tears well up. But she can't let them see, or at least, can't let the Black Knight see. He can never know what he's doing to her right now.
Again and again, the men try to kill each other but at every turn she gets in the way. Finally, one blow is enough to curdle out a scream for her. Knees crumple beneath her and both men finally hesitate. The Black Knight is the first to sheath his sword.
"She's right — enough of this. Our dispute has lasted three years, we can postpone. I will help you. If it's what my Maiden desires."
"My maiden?" Ike scoffs. "Don't let him manipulate you, Micaiah. He doesn't — " Ike pauses as the Black Knight reaches over and takes Micaiah's hand into his, metal finger brushing aside her thin fingers and caressing the palm. Gently, so gently, he pinches her glove and peels it away from her pale hand and — freezes. Freezes for a long time. Like he forgot what he was doing.
What is that? On her hand? It reminds her of Soren's forehead… she — she couldn't be. The Black Knight focuses on it because… because…
Ashera, he is going to kill her.
No, not again. No more.
The Black Knight jerks his head up from Micaiah's hand, this marked — branded — hand, and nods. "Still your blade, Ike."
But Ike keeps his blade out. It's so quiet. He looks back to his army. They all stand at the barrier, waiting. Their enemy is vanquished, it's just this now. Conflict stews everywhere. Ike looks back to Micaiah and — the Black Knight — why is he so unsure all of a sudden? What is it between his hated foe and Micaiah? Is the Black Knight deceiving Micaiah to get close enough to make short work of her? Or is this real? Does he actually — ?
No, the killer of his father can feel nothing. Besides, he's from Daein.
Micaiah is too. Half his army is… they all belong to Micaiah.
Is — is this a set-up?
No. No no no. He can't think about it like this. This is a one-on-one duel…
… and if Micaiah decides to stay in the middle, that is on her.
Ike swings and Micaiah screams, another lashing of light catching his sword, pushing back on it with even more severity.
The Black Knight goes to pull free his sword again but as his hand finds the hilt, yellow light comes forth and shapes itself around his gauntlet, the indistinctly round magic morphing into the unique bumps and folds of Micaiah's own hand. It grabs his and holds on, thumb crossing the knuckle.
The Black Knight can plainly see Micaiah's right hand reaching for his, puppeting the phantom light that comes to comfort him. He could easily brush it away and reach for his sword but…
… does she even know that he is like her? He has so many questions… he feels stupid for not knowing of her Brand until now. She is the first he has ever met who's — like him…
Ike goes for an overhead swing that's particularly sloppy, both of his hands gripping the hilt. Something's wrong. Ike used to be sloppy. Three years ago. But now his arms bulge with veins, his eyes stay cold while they think through what to do. This lazy swing isn't him. Last time the Black Knight underestimated Ike, it killed him. Now he's doing the same.
He knocks Micaiah's phantom hand away, though it pains him to do so, he needs to grab Alondite and stop Ike before —
— Micaiah… won't let go… won't be brushed away —
Ike's left hand retreats behind his back, rumpling his cape from below. His right hand continues to press against Micaiah's hold. The Black Knight wants to grab his sword, he knows what Ike plans, but he can't hurt Micaiah again. He's done it too many times now. There must be a way to do both. He's smart like that, he's a general, a genius, a —
Ike pulls free an ax — Urvan, it appears to be — from underneath his cape and swings it over the sword. It's too much for Micaiah to catch, and though she sends tendrils of light into the ax to freeze it in place, she's too slow and it crashes into the Black Knight's helm.
His body jerks back, the entirety of his helmet finally crumbling away into nothingness. For the first time in so long, cool air cuts against his bare face. He drops a knee and palms his face in distress, but it's far too late. So he drops that too and lets them see it. Lets them see who they face. Zelgius, Commander of the Begnion Army.
He's not sure who's more hurt by the reveal. Though Micaiah's fingers slipping from his grip is telling. It makes him want to die.
Zelgius? The Black Knight is — Zelgius?
By the Gods, Ranulf was right.
"Maiden," his voice is deep now, scratchy like a boot running its hoove over pebbles. His eyes are puffy, and his sickly white skin sticks out against his raven hair. "I'm sorry."
Sorry?! He's sorry for Micaiah?! What of the Laguz he engineered the slaughter of. What of Skrimir. And Ranulf. And Greil.
This man came to Ike's base camp after the fall of Oliver, and talked about strategy with him. Promised to give him aid, showed no hesitation of who he really was, or what he intended to do. It hurt Ike to see Zelgius strike down Skrimir as if he were nothing, considering that they were once adversaries. But now? He doesn't even know what to think.
"I — " Micaiah freezes, at a complete loss of words.
"You should be," Ike grabs Micaiah by the bicep and shoves her to the side, closing the gap fast. Ragnell comes out again and he prepares for the kill. No more.
It'd be easy. To die that is. Bow his head and let the blade come, he probably deserves it.
But not today. Not after how ruthlessly he handled his Maiden.
Zelgius… no, ha, The Black Knight rises with incredibly dexterity, speed only capable of those born with Kilvas blood, and strikes at Ike with a ferocity the boy has never witnessed before.
Ike mounts a valiant attempt at defense, but each clang! pushes him back, his feet incapable of matching the march of the Black Knight. Ike falls back again and again, recoiling from each slash while the Black Knight slips into his next move. Again and again, Alondite meets Ragnell, and the resulting Bang! becomes deafening.
Micaiah shrieks his nickname to the Heavens. "Sir Knight!" But he doesn't listen. He chooses not to, he cannot.
Ike's back strikes the blue wall, matching where Yune herself is pressed against the barrier, now held back by the Dawn Brigade. Tremors explode from his back, arms aching from impact. He desperately finds the second to swing at Zelgius' head but of course the general is far faster, the blunt side of Alondite smacking Ike's wrists, razor edge turning to push along the hairs on Ike's wrist. Ike's hand scrambles away, dropping his sword to the ground, and finally, the Black Knight's spare hand bunches Ike's cape up and lifts him higher along the wall, sword pointed at Ike's chin.
"Now you too shall fall," the Black Knight murmurs.
But Micaiah screams again. "Sir Knight!"
This time it gets his attention. Because Ike's death is inevitable now, he can spare the moment. The Black Knight drops his head, chin brushing against his own cape. He looks past his bangs and clenches his teeth. "Maiden, you are only making this more difficult. Let me finish him."
"No!" Micaiah cries out defiantly, rushing forward. She grabs the Black Knight's armored elbow and slips herself in-between the two combatants again, looking at the Black Knight with pleading eyes. "Ike is not bad. No one here is bad. You — "
"But I am," the Black Knight sighs, some of his venom leaving him. His eyes strain to stay open. How can she not see him for what he truly is? "This is what Sephiran wants. I must — "
"No, no excuses, Sir Knight. This battle is what you want," Micaiah growls fiercely. "It's what Ike wants too, but look around you, Z-Z-Zelgius…" She frowns at the utterance of his true name, as if some form of game just ended. He feels it too. "Remember Alder? He died for someone he believed in…"
"General Jarod is scum," The Black Knight growls through pressed teeth. "I do not — "
"You do, though. You understand," Micaiah looks past her shoulder to indicate her army on the other side of the barrier. "We're all here to potentially sacrifice ourselves for someone good. Because we believe in people, we believe in who is out there that still cares…"
The Black Knight nods, his eyes steely. He looks back up at Ike and frowns at the boy's gnarled face. Suddenly, it all feels so futile. Because there is nothing beyond this. Just oblivion. Then he may die. But what is the purpose of that?
"You have to try, Zelgius." Micaiah sounds so true, it's as if she were a voice in his consciousness.
He loosens his hold on Ike.
"If…" Micaiah pales. "If you continue to stand in our way, I can't stop us from killing you. But I don't want that, Zelgius."
Zelgius nods. The words roll from his lips, dipping so low in pitch. "What do you want, Maiden?"
She doesn't flinch. "You know."
Oh, how he knows. He drops Ike, and waves at the barrier. Immediately, it dissipates. Behind him, he hears Ike lifting his sword from the floor. Ahead of him, the Dawn Brigade and Greil Mercenaries draw closer, apprehension in everyone's faces. Zelgius could kill them if he wished. But… there'd be nothing left.
No… there is nothing left. Unless he makes the choice for there to be. So Zelgius chooses that.
He raises a gauntlet to Micaiah's cheek and considers removing the mass of steel, but ultimately allows a metal finger to touch her soft flesh. That can do for now. She scares him too much for him to remove the armor. He looks past her head and makes eye contact with this Chaos Goddess, Yune, who remains deathly still. Zelgius looks back at the army and against his better judgment, holds Alondite out over the heads of the mercenaries, locking eyes with Ike's sister, Mist.
"Take it," he forces a smile. "It'll protect you."
Ike steps forward. "Mist, don't — "
Blue fire spits from the edges of Alondite, swirling like a torrent around Mist, finally settling when she sheathes the blade.
"What are you doing?" Ike spits.
Zelgius slowly pivots to face Ike, but speaks to the room. "You told me that when Greil did — what he did… that he severed his own tendons so that he may never raise a blade again. Consider that my own severing… perhaps later, I will — but — I believe I am to help you kill the Goddess. I can use iron for that, it'll be fine."
"You're…" Ike fishes for the swords because they don't come easily. "... helping us?"
"Yes," Zelgius nods, dropping a knee and bowing his head. "I am sorry for the interruption. Continue you as you were, I'll catch up quickly."
Micaiah is shaken to the core.
Ike holds his gaze a moment longer, finally tearing away from the general to look at her. His eyes narrow as if to state, You better know what you're doing. He turns, cape wrapping around his torso, and sheathes his own blade, waving for the other mercenaries to follow.
Sothe mirrors Ike's expression, passing by Micaiah with some concern. So she smiles to him and that's enough. She will never finish be thankful for Sothe.
Micaiah gets closer to Zelgius, kneeling before him, shrouded in her scarlet cloak. There is so much to say, but she can't — she can't find any of the words at the moment. She sits there dumbly, hoping her presence may be enough.
"Maiden," Zelgius grunts, eyes peering past his raven locks. He smiles and it feels nice. She's never seen him smile. Or his face, of course, but she doubts he ever smiled in her presence.
"We are alike — I never knew you were Branded. I — would show you as proof but it'd be best for me to keep my armor on… for, erm, the practicalities of battle."
Micaiah only knows of two other Branded. Soren, who she's seen from afar, Soren who scorns her. And Stefan, who Yune prevented her from really interacting with. So this is new, and this also explains a lot.
"My blood hails from Kilvas," Zelgius sighs. "I — I noticed your mark during the fight. I'm sure that you've had a hard life. You — handled it better than I, though. I've never felt anything like this guilt until now. I'm sorry that my blade hurt your hands. There is no excuse."
Micaiah nods, looking at her lap. This is too much, too much feeling from someone who's never felt. The idea that even her feelings might be reciprocated is — she changes the topi to something easier. "I used to tell fortunes on the streets of Daein, pretending to be an old crone so that I could remain unseen. But then Sothe came to me. Nothing I've done would be possible without him. He's — he's a good companion."
"I'm sure," Zelgius almost reaches out for her hand, but his mouth crinkles as his fingers extend. His gauntlet retracts fast and he stays still. "You've surrounded yourself with amazing people. I wish I were — lucky, like you. Maiden — "
"Micaiah," she interrupts. "Please."
"Micaiah," he tries it out. He's always hated his voice. So dark, so bold, it makes everything sound nefarious. "I should leave. I don't belong here, I can leave my armor perhaps, and — someone better can use it to — "
"No. Stay. Please," she urges, taking his hand.
"Why? Do you know what I've done? I'm a monster, Micaiah!" he chokes. "For Greil, it took the medallion. I've just been like this. Always. What I do has no value. I — I kill for sport, for challenge…"
"We start over then, Sir Knight," Micaiah wraps both hands around Zelgius' head and he gazes up at her wrists as if they might kill him. "We always do. I need to start over too after this. I can't be a General, or a Queen, I'm not ready for that. I just want to live, and — I'd like to ask if you'd start over with me."
"W-w-with you?" Zelgius gulps. "No, Maiden, no, I'm not — not worthy for someone of…" Her eyes become sultry, and he flinches. It's not as if he didn't see this coming, these are the same images illustrating his dreams, but to face them like this? He lets his lips lift into a smile. For her sake. The wrinkles they itch into his cheek make his jaw ache. "Don't make me use the last of my warp powder," he jokes. Never before has he joked, but in that moment, it comes naturally.
Her eyes roll and she touches his neck, leaning in and finally pressing her lips to his. It's gentle, maybe because of hesitation. Or fear, that is certainly possible… he considers bringing her closer, kissing her with more intensity because his heart aches for more even when at the moment he wants to draw farther away. After some seconds pass, he realizes that this is a better pace for him too.
"Ahem," a high cough interrupts the moment and they turn past their shoulders to see the cross Goddess, Yune, with crossed arms.
"Right," Micaiah sighs, shoving some of her hair back behind her ear. "We can continue later."
Micaiah reaches out and takes his arm, and though he hardly needs her help in getting off the floor, he allows her to pull him up. She pats him on the shoulder and walks towards the Goddess, her image veiling the haunting spectre as it splinters into blue lights and scatters all around her. Her cape and hair lift into the air, then fall back down. Micaiah turns back to Zelgius with a frown, the blue fire in her eyes enough to make the separation that this disappointed expression isn't his Maiden's.
"Micaiah," Zelgius tries her name out again. "When we are done, I will be yours, and hard though it may be to wait for that moment — "
"No more of this!" Yune snaps. "I am not letting her hear anymore of this — ridiculous! Operation Godkiller! Pah! No more, you will wait, fool!"
She turns on her heel and click clacks away, and Zelgius laughs. Like a bark. It squeezes his throat, but it helps.
For the first time in likely over a decade, even since before Sephiran he begins to realize… Zelgius now has this sense that he's not alone. He's part of something good.
He is…. alive.