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“The Black Knight is here! He’s going for the enemy’s general! Now’s our chance!”
The enemy captain’s voice rings above the din of battle, carried through the air to Soren’s ear. Lowering his casting arm, he turns, eyes narrowing as he studies the enemy formation. “Ike!” he calls, watching as a group of soldiers coalesces. They are far enough away that they shouldn’t be a threat, but Soren’s anxiety spikes anyway as he jogs closer to Ike. “There are more soldiers gathering as we speak!”
“Are you saying that we should retreat?” Ike’s anger is evident. He does not look at Soren, his sight set forward, his expression that of a warrior determined to meet his foe in battle. And indeed, he and his greatest enemy have met. Soren would tell him to retreat, and yet… “That’s not an option!” With a mighty roar, Ike charges forward once more.
The inhuman echo of the Black Knight’s battle scream rumbles from his helmet as he does the same.
A shuffling to Soren’s left tears his attention away, a Wind spell already pulsing from his fingertips as he turns to face a fighter charging forward with her axe held high. Before he can loose his magic, a friendly arrow embeds itself in her neck and she crumples with a gurgling scream. Soren’s Wind spell dissipates, the energy leaving him as his gaze leaves the fighter. Ike is still holding strong, his arms quick and strong as he counters each of the Black Knight’s heavy blows. Yet Soren has barely turned to him for a moment before he hears the captain’s voice again: “Ready your bows! Aim for the enemy’s general!”
Whipping around, Soren raises his tome. Frantically, he chants in Ancient, trying to call forth the spell he had just dismissed, his chest burning with the effort and with utter terror as he watches no less than five enemy archers draw their bowstrings.
The arrows loose.
“What?” Ike gasps in surprise. Above the scrape of metal, Soren hears the thud of an arrow piercing flesh, then that of a body hitting the earth, too quiet for it to be someone wearing much armor.
His worst fear is confirmed to be true when he looks over his shoulder. “End of the line,” the Black Knight growls, dragging the tip of his sword across the rock. When Ike attempts to defend himself, one hand clutching his leg, the Black Knight parries the blow and kicks him to the ground. “Prepare yourself!”
Ike doesn’t move.
Soren all but throws himself forward. The Wind spell explodes from his fingertips, crashing into the Black Knight. “Ike!” he screams, the sound torn from the very marrow of him. In the precious seconds stolen while the Black Knight regains his balance, he manages to reach Ike’s unconscious form. “I will not…” He regards the Black Knight with a glare. “Let you kill him!” he finishes, dropping to his knees and gathering Ike in his arms.
The Black Knight does not flinch. “Sacrificing yourself for this boy will not change the fact that he will meet his death.”
“No matter what happens, I will protect Ike until the very end!” Soren promises, and doesn’t spare another moment for the enemy, looking down at Ike. Carefully, he cradles his head against his chest, against his racing heart. His heart pounds not because he fears death, but because… “Ike…” he cries, pressing his lips next to his ear, not minding the sweat and blood. “It seems you don’t remember but… we met each other when we were young.” He sees an arrow jutting from the side of Ike’s thigh. Looks like he had managed to dodge or deflect all but one. Soren cups his cheek all the more gently for it. “At that time, I was only a feeble existence with no hope, just waiting for my death.” His grip tightens around his body as his control slips. “But you were the one and only who helped me—a Branded! An abomination condemned to a life of hatred and rejection from both beorc and laguz. That’s why I promised to always be by your side and continue to protect you!”
“So you wish to die alone with the boy…” the Black Knight questions.
Soren does not answer. He is not alone.
“Very well.” The Black Knights armor clanks. Presumably, he raises his sword for the killing blow. Soren does not face him, his neck bare but for his hair as he presses his cheek to the crown of Ike’s head. One thumb strokes his face as he shuts his eyes and waits for the blade to fall.
The thunder of hoofbeats rises from the storm of sounds around them. The Black Knight yells, then a familiar voice shouts. There is a magnificent clash of metal on metal like a lightning strike. Soren tenses over Ike, too scared to look until he hears Titania snarl, “I will not let you kill any more of my loved ones!”
Sure enough, when he turns she sits proudly atop her horse, circling back toward them around the Black Knight who lies as still and massive as a boulder. “Titania! Is everything going according to plan?” he asks as she approaches.
“Yes, the plan was a success,” she boasts, victory in her voice. “We carried out the surprise attack from behind and brought in reinforcements!”
Soren can hear the shouting of vigorous bloodshed. When he glances up, he sees the turmoil of his strategy finding success, blades flashing and bodies writhing. Nevertheless, his heart rate pounds onward. Slinging the Heal staff off of his back, he sets it where he can reach it as he studies Ike for any further injury. Thankfully, he finds none. Careful not to rest his weight on him, he steadies himself to test the arrow in his thigh. Determining the exact angle of entry, he tugs once, pleased to discover that the arrowhead is simple and without barbs. Delicately yet forcefully, he slips it from Ike’s flesh, flint and all. As blood spurts from the wound, he takes up his Heal staff and directs all his energy through it, willing Ike’s skin to mend.
When the magic fades, Ike shifts, impulsively rolling away from Soren as he blinks awake. “Ah… Did I… pass out…?”
“Ike!” Soren yelps, tossing his staff aside as he reaches for him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he reassures him as Soren helps him to his feet. “Sorry for the trouble.”
“No,” he insists, clutching his hand, “It was no trouble at all…” His voice struggles to press past the lump in his throat. “I…”
Ike squeezes his hand, speaking gently. “Soren, are you crying?”
When he first tries to speak, all that leaves him is a pathetic choked noise. Oh, wonderful. “No… I’m not crying,” he squeaks, trying to sound professional as he steps away from Ike, hiding behind his hair. “It’s nothing.” When he peeks, it seems Ike does not believe him. Quickly wiping his eyes, he stands tall, attempting to make his face look pleasing. “I’m fine.”
“Alright,” Ike mutters, heading for his sword. When he picks it up, a fire reignites in his eyes. Understanding him completely, Soren recollects his staff and rearms himself with his Wind tome. “Then let’s proceed. Give us a hand, Titania!”
“Of course,” Titania agrees, spinning her axe around. “Let’s show them what happens when they mess with the Greil Mercenaries.” When she looks between the two of them and winks, Soren can’t help but wonder if she is daring or teasing. Now is not the time to dwell on such things, not when Titania rallies her horse and gallops toward the Black Knight, who is reaching for his sword.
Perfect. While he is distracted, Ike and Soren can surprise him with an attack Soren has been wanting to use in battle for awhile…
Before he can explain his strategy to Ike, something warm rubs across his cheek. Startled, he flinches away. His lips part in surprise when he looks at Ike. In return, the corner of Ike’s mouth twitches, his hand falling away from Soren’s face. Surely, his thumb had swept away a stray tear.
“I… I’m… How about I throw you at him,” Soren says intelligently. Internally, he smacks himself. Stupid, stupid, he can’t even talk right—
Ike hefts his sword, looking absolutely comfortable with the pose he chooses, effortlessly dangerous in a way that makes Soren’s mind go blank. “Alright.”
Shutting his mouth, Soren flips open his tome. This really isn’t the time to dwell on such things. “Brace yourself,” he warns, readying his hand. They’ve practiced this before, but Soren will never underestimate how reckless Ike can be. He tries not to think about it as he begins his recitation in Ancient, visualizing the spell he is about to cast instead. Beyond Ike, the Black Knight’s back is exposed to them as he and Titania taunt each other. What a foolish mistake. “O power of Wind,” Soren chants, feeling the air around him come to life, “Sweep my target… to the skies!”
With a great howl and a whirl of green light, Ike launches into the air, leaping toward the Black Knight. Soren’s magic carries him high into the sky, gravity aiding Ike’s strength as he begins his descent. Shouting a battle cry that could rival the wind, Ike readies his sword. “This ends here!”
Soren smiles. Surely, this will.