Fire Emblem 1. Prologue: Stuck in a Drink

Drunken Lullaby

Prologue: Stuck in a Drink

LLLLLL

_"So let me be,  
And embrace this,  
Take my heart,  
Don't get rid of it._

_For we all,  
Are stuck in the middle,  
For we all,  
Are dancing with the fiddle,  
For we all,  
Are gone in a wink,  
For we all,  
Are stuck in a drink."_

–_'For We All'-Kuri_

LLLLLL

Within the light of the grand mess hall tent, the ale was being passed around freely. It had been a great victory only that afternoon against a rebelling army. All three of their lords had gone to bed earlier than most of their warriors though. Despite the late hour, a group of stragglers were still there in the mess hall tent, playing a game of "Who said that?" The game consisted of a moderate amount of drink to be swallow when someone won the round. For each round, the person who called out the correct person and whomever was "it" did not drink the round while everyone else would have a gulp of their warranted brew. The person who won was now it for the next round. This normally went on for about five to six rounds. Usually everyone after that become unable to understand the other for good reason.

At least that's what usually happened. This time, Serra surmised, that their ale wasn't as strong as it usually was, either that or hers was watered down like usual. She detested the fact that everyone thought she was a child. Sure she looked like a child, but no one should underestimate her age simply because of what she looked like. 'Or act like,' she thought to herself as she took another sip. The game was becoming annoying now than usual merely because of her slight buzz compared to the men near her.

Matthew was obviously winning again. Erk was worse off than both her or Wil. His drink compared to hers was probably stronger if the cleric could judge by the scent of it. Serra sighed and saw a rare look upon Erk's face, one she only saw drawn out through the liquid bread on occasion. The look was a lopsided grin upon his usually frowning lips and a shimmer of light in his dark eyes that did nothing but grow a boiling of heat in her stomach from nervousness. It was a look meant to set off alarms but it only made her breath short and face hot. He barely showed it to her, and even that was extremely rare as he rarely drank. He only seemed to do it at times when he was completely drunk around her.

The mage laughed hard as he tried to get out whom Matthew's line belonged to originally. His body nearly toppled over to land against Serra's side with a smoldering grin on his lips as he looked at her. The cleric could only blush heavily as the dark haired mage rarely set any amount of physical touch upon her. She moved a moment later, common sense chiming in that this should be time he needed to sleep from his sloppy movements. 'Oh, common sense, how I wish you weren't such a moment killer," She thought.

"I think it's time Erky went to sleep." Serra's voice came out slightly slurred. She was a tiny bit buzzed, which was better off than Wil and Erk, both of whom were failing to stay on the benches. Seeing at Matthew's shrug towards putting Erk to bed, she knew she would have to do it herself. Matthew and Wil shrugged as she took Erk by his arm despite his protests at wanting another round before leaving, unable to gather the strength to get out of her soft grip. Her arm held him up as he leaned on her, his face brushing against her cheek as they walked out of the tent.

They stumbled this way and that through the numerous tents and guards wandering, some of them even chuckling at her predicament with Erk's soft baritone voice singing off key about the Lusty Ostian Maid, Ms. Spredshurligz. Blushing at the roots of her pink hairs down to her toes, Serra was regretting ever teaching him the naughty stanzas, though Matthew, Legault, and Wil hadn't helped by singing it as well.

"Serra..." She looked up from what she was concentrating on, nearly falling against a barrel before stopping them both. His lips rested against her ear, grazing the sensitive skin as he spoke her name softly, in a clear tone that made her toes curl from the dark sound of it. The cleric would secretly admit that if this was a way to die, she would be in heaven from it. With a soft tongue licking her ear, a near screech almost escaping her lips, Serra de Ostia moved like a soldier having just been chastised. Erk needed his bed and she needed to leave him there and take a really cold dip in the nearby lake.

It was making her feel awkward but flushed. His attention on her was unusual and she knew that it was because of the drink more than who he was. Erk treated Serra as if she was a nuisance, in which she knew that her actions, however innocent or good intentioned made her that way. This attention on her made her happy though. It was no fault of her own that she knew that she harbored a place in her heart for the mage. In her heart though, she knew he would never go to her. His attentions, even when he was sober, was meant more for the likes of Priscilla's gentle words and his books.

At that thought she paused, 'He'll never like me when he's sober.' The thought only made her attempts to help him talk and be generally more social with everyone become diminished before she noticed that they were right near his tent in the male area of the camp. Reaching for his tent entrance, she snatched the flap open to a space filled with notes and books lying about, a small tea set off to the side, and a sleeping cot ready for its burden. Awkwardly moving through the mess of papers, Serra and Erk moved to his cot before she was able to sit him down. He looked up at her once she got him to sit down. His fingers reached up to the curve of her small waist, thumbs running in circles around her stomach.

"Serra…..Thanks." She looked down at him, having started putting her hands to his to remove them, relunctantly from her hips when she paused at his words. The pink-haired cleric felt a soft glowing smile grow on her lips before she leaned down to his forehead, giving it a soft kiss of her lips. His skin was pink from the alcohol, brushing fire against her mouth. She rested her head against his for a moment, savoring something she knew she wouldn't get otherwise.

This was her moment alone with him.

Laying the mage down with her hands on Erk's shoulders, she tenderly put his hair back from his face. Erk smiled, a genuine one, as she began to draw away from him, only to yelp from his sudden strength at pulling her on top of him with his hands still on her hips. Landing over him at a strange angle, Serra tried to move in a way to get back up when his lips started kissing her neck, nipping at the soft feel of her throat. His purple hair fell around his pillow as his arms fully wrapped around her waist, locking the slim woman against him. Serra's cheeks blistered into an inferno, unable to move her hands in a position to lean away from him, trapped against those sensual lips of his.

All sense of control was slipping, especially when he found her ear again and whispered her name in a way that could only make her drain any want to get away from it, enthralled by the dark promise that was enraptured in her mere name of pleasures she had yet to share with any man or woman, desires she had sated to keep to herself ready to spill over into the cusp of his lips.

All she knew as she moved her head to meet his lips, tasting the elderberry drink briefly on his lips, in a searing kiss, was that tomorrow would be different for her at the least.

LLLLL

Slowly waking up, the first thing Serra noticed was that she was quite warm and content at that. The second was the fact that she was naked, a occurrence that alarmed her as she moved the naked arm wrapped around her stomach off to sit up. Upon looking down from the nice soft arm that had been around her middle, Serra's eyes followed the arm to the shoulder to only gasp softly at the dark purple hair. Had she bedded Canas? She paused for a moment, scrunching her nose in thought before reaching over to lift a few pieces of dark purple hair. 'By Elimine's holy pantaloons!' The cleric exclaimed in her thoughts.

She didn't understand for a few minutes just how that happened until her mind processed what happened the night before with taking him to his tent, feeling his lips against her neck and her name. Shudders racked her body both from the desire it brought forth from memory alone to panic.

Her mind checked over her body with the training of a normal soldier. Her nether region felt tender along with her hips being sore, understandingly, she knew just what they had done. Taking a look back down at him, Serra knew she had a choice now. He could wake up and see them together and swear she was nothing to him and was the worst thing since sliced bread or she could leave, keeping this night for herself and never have him know that he bedded Serra, the most annoying woman on this side of Elibe. Serra bit her bottom lip as she thought before mind was made up.

'The best thing is for you not to see us like this, right?' Serra thought to herself, moving slowly out of his bed to find her discarded clothing. Her hair bands were snapped in half and her dress was wrinkled beyond all intentions. She had no idea where her underwear had landed, but she did find her maiden's slip. Slipping on everything that she found quickly, Serra knew she needed to keep her mind busy from thinking over last night and to keep busy, she knew best where to go.

Once her shoes were on, sneaking to the medical tent Serra dodged and hid from wandering guards more so to not have anyone see her 'walk of shame,'. Despite the tenderness in her body, she knew she had enjoyed last night and had slept tremendously well in his arms.

Finally, upon seeing the sign for the infirmary, Serra entered between the large flaps to the sight of Priscilla, the red headed troubadour. The troubadour seemed to holding a letter in her hand for a moment before quickly hiding it away from Serra's view, smiling up at her hastily.

"Hello, Lady Serra! It is good to see you up so early." The flame-haired beauty blinked in question before schooling her face at Serra's hair being down. Priscilla had yet to see her hair away from the pigtails so that it came as a slight shock. The soft pink hair fell in soft waves to the cleric's shoulders, slightly messy but altogether looked rather becoming on Serra. To Priscilla, a woman who learned of Serra's age early on, having the cleric's hair down made it visible to her for the first time of how old Serra was underneath all the giddy youth she used around everyone. "Your hair is beautiful when it is down, Lady Serra."

"Huh? Oh, um...Thank you, Priscilla! Why wouldn't it be? I mean this is me after all, you know!" She exclaimed, guiltily trying her best to look as if she hadn't just been deflowered the night before, as if there was nothing to hide such as the red hickeys and love bites on her neck. "Any chance I could get a small amount of headache relief? I was up with Matthew, Erky, and Wil late last night doing that game Matthew invented, you know, the drinking one and got a bit off the rocker with the drinking part of it."

Priscilla, smiling ruefully at the other woman , only nodded as she concentrated on healing the minor headache that Serra had. With a wave of a slim silver rod, the troubadour placed the rod away while the cleric sighed. If anything good was to happen out of today, it would be a hangover relief. Serra smiled, thanking the soft spoken noble before heading towards the other side of the room where her group of ill soldiers laid in wait for her to attend the morning routines and check-ups. Despite knowing Serra for only a month or so, Priscilla knew that this was not the jovial, talkative, yet utterly annoying Serra she often had to deal with. Something subdued her.

"L-Lady Serra?" Serra looked up from a patient to the other mender's soft question. Priscilla forged on with her question despite the surprised look from Serra's face. "You are acting out of the normal, Lady Serra. Are you sure you're well?" There was a moment of pause between the two before Serra's cheeks spread wide in a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Don't be silly! Of course, I'm all right! It's so wonderful for you to be worried for me, but there's no need to be!" Another well placed grin of forced cheerfulness only made Priscilla frown before she continued with her side of the infirmary. If Serra wanted her to know, she would tell her, Priscilla supposed. The cleric only kept her smile up until she knew that Priscilla was near the very end of one of her rows, unable to see her face too clearly. Sighing, Serra forced her thoughts inward as she began healing her next patient, keeping in mind each man's wounds while Erk wheedled his way in the background of her thoughts.

It wasn't until late afternoon that the medical tent's flaps opened to his gloved hands, revealing his form as he stepped into the warm tent, heading straight for Serra, as Priscilla relatively had more of a workload of soldiers, many who preferred her demure manner to Serra's chatty one, who was nearer to the men who were sleeping off hangovers. He stopped right behind the long-haired cleric, taking a moment to admire the fact that her hair was down.

Despite his initial thoughts of asking Serra just what he had done at another of Matthew's drinking games, the mage could only grasp at straws for his thoughts when she turned around, blushing at him. Her mouth opened up under his tentative gaze, trying to find a word or anything as she forgot to realize that he would have likely come into the medical tent for his usual raging hangover after Matthew's drinking games.

"Will you cast a spell on my hangover?" She nodded numbly, uncertain she could get words out to him. 'Does he even remember?' she wondered as her fingers took a slim healing rod to his forehead, muttering the incantation. He gave a soft sigh as the pounding behind his temples abated for clearer thought. Enjoying the silence for a moment, Erk frowned. He at least expected a high-pitched admonishing for cracking his head into his mage books again or something more for drinking too much.

Instead of her usual chattiness and mothering that she always forced on Erk, he received little more than a wave of the wand before she started working on another soldier. He eyed her warily. This new creature that sat in Serra's seat was most definitely not the demon witch herself. Did he say something terrible to her, more so than the usual, last night?

"Serra, did I do anything last night, while drinking?" Serra paused in her healing, looking up at him with a face between astonishment and fright before fiercely shaking her head. He caught sight of a purple bruise on his neck and immediately felt shame in him. Had he accidently fired a spell while drunk and Serra had just been in the way? Reaching down to her chin, he pulled her face gently back up to his eyes, noticing that she hadn't flinched at his touch.

"Serra, did I hurt you?" The priestess only laughed at his honestly concerned question, shaking her head with mirth and what resembled relief in her eyes. He knew he enjoyed her silence if only for a moment, but he missed the exhubarence for which she would mother him and he knew he wouldn't forgive himself if he hurt his friend, despite how often he had the urge to stuff his dirty socks in her mouth to get her quiet.

"N-no! Erky, you would never hurt me and you know it! Now don't be silly and go get some breakfast! In fact, you should have gone to the mess tent before coming over here. You'll miss out on the good food if you don't hurry and it will help keep the hangover at bay after the spell wears off." She smiled at him before Erk seemed to become satisfied with her reply taking a moment to let his hand slide to the visible hickey on her neck, feeling her take a sharp breath before his hand returned to his side. The man turned on his heel back out of the tent, intent on listening to her good advice for once.

He did not like that Serra acting so out of character for him, supposing she would come out of whatever sickness she had sooner or later to annoy the hell out of him.

LLLLL

'This is it.' In a tent, cleaned down to the last crevice, Serra looked down at the knife she had in her hand. The silver knife was sharp. She had made sure of it, taking it from Rebecca's knapsack the night before after the green haired archer had whetted it. It was another crime on her slippery slope. She kept her eyes on it, paler than what she should be on her sickest days. Her own reflection mirrored the weariness she had been occupied with.

Her fingers gripped the hilt tightly, reaching the weapon to her neck. It was going to hurt. She knew having kept things the same for so long it would be different when she took that knife and sunk it home. Scrunching her face up tightly, taking a large breath, she knew she was as ready as she was ever going to be.

Serra had seen the signs. This was the only way that Erk was going to be alright with who she was. It was the only way that she would ever let herself be. She would no longer belong on a battlefield. She would no longer watch the stars on occasion with the apprentice of Etruia. She wouldn't get to do a lot of things with him anymore.

Biting her bottom lip, Serra's hand, shaking in trepidation, slid to its target with ease, sinking into the pink silk of the body she was so proud of, giving only a moment of resistance before freeing itself from her person. The hand holding the dagger fell limp to her side, tears flowed only silently on her face.

Her long hair resided in her other hand, cut off from her head after almost fourteen years of growing it out.

It was a sacrifice she knew she had to make. Slipping the knife into a sheath on her belt, the pink haired cleric dropped her long cut-off hair on the towel behind her. Taking a heady breath of air, she turned around to view the sight. Her head felt lighter, that was certain, but did she look different enough was the real question.

Her hand took out a small mirror she had kept from the first time she had been away from Ostia's church. Looking into it, she noticed she looked a bit younger, but her hair was cropped, messy, and made her face seem like she was a young soldier boy from the army. Satisfied, her fingers traced over the image for only a moment. She knew she didn't have long to linger. The morning mess crew would be waking up soon and she had to leave within her window of opportunity.

Placing the mirror back in her saddle bag, Serra looked over to her cot. The bedding was pristine and without wrinkles, much like the rest of her tent. Envelopes were waiting on top of her pillow, waiting for their turn to be claimed by people whom she wrote to. Her tomes were in her bag along with a rod of healing. Her clothes…..

She looked over to the side of her saddle bag. They would be tossed into a fire as she left. Her bishop's ring was on a rope necklace in her saddle bag, hidden by a night tunic and leggings. The clothing she wore she had bought off a villager who was desperate for the coin, hungry and beleaguered from the war campaign.

In the pit of her stomach, Serra knew she should have given him more, but…. Her fingers splayed along the curve of her stomach. The cleric had a small life that needed to be looked after before anyone else. She knew Elimine would forgive her, but the acrid taste of being unable to give as much help as she had, didn't settle down with her just yet.

The room was cold despite all the things that remained in it. Nothing was open. Even her jewelry box, usually displaying its pretty confections was closed. She had made sure to take nothing of true note from it. Turning around, her hands wrapped up her lost hair, slipping the cloth package of hair into her small courier's purse.

'Now or never, Serra!' The cleric stood, wrapping her purse around her chest, resting against the rustic vest, brown and practical, covering a long beige tunic that split on both sides mid-thigh. Her fingers brushed against her brown pants that slipped into well worn boots that looked like a stablehand owned them. Taking another deep breath, Serra slipped out of her tent, keeping an eye out for any of the patting guardsmen.

She edged out of sight as she walked, keeping to the nearest tent if she felt movement come near her as she made her way towards the stables. The courier horse, a fast desert horse that a bandit had lost to the tactician's plans, was waiting, plain as day. The stable hand was snoring softly in his dreams.

The cleric bit her lower lip, eyes coming to meet her second biggest obstacle. She needed to get the tack and bridle on the horse. Sain's advice came to her mind when she began reaching for the leather saddle. His instructions that Serra had memorized came back to her easily. Rote of scripture was one of her skills from the church of St. Elimine. It allowed her to remember the order of some things if she practiced keeping the memory intact. The courier horse didn't seem to mind her with its dark black hair shining from the previous night's brushing.

She had ensured she would get stable duty by switching with Lowen who preferred the cooking duties. Once the last strap was on, saddle bags placed under the saddle, her fingers reached for the spurs to slip on her feet.

A loud snort broke the silence of the morning, causing Serra to freeze up completely before the rustle of hay and snoring became prevalent. The stable boy was simply turning around in his sleep. A shaky breath escaped her. Her fingers found the hook for the rope, taking it off to ease the black mare out of the handmade stall. Replacing the rope end back on the hook, Serra reached over to the last piece she needed to make it out.

An enchanted cape seemed to shine golden to her eyes as her fingers silently reached up to take it off the cape rack. Slipping it around her body, she felt the instant warmth from it's enchanted inside. Serra would be warm if it were cold around her, and cool if it were warm instead. No water would leak to touch her body under the protection of the cloak. The cleric sighed, ensuring that the cape would not fall from her body nor have the hood slip from her head.

With her hands on the reins, she led the horse out of the stable tent.

She would be leaving on the gate towards Ostia, but there was a river a mile away that she would use to double back and go south, towards the dragging tail of Lycia's lands near the large and nearly impassable mountains of Bern. She wiped her palms on her tunic, approaching the guards of the Ostian gate.

"Courier! Where you headed boy?" She looked up, opening her mouth to reply readily. With a deep breath and all the muscles in her throat nearly protesting at the pitch of her voice, Serra lied as best as she could.

"Lady Seras wants me to take a letter to Ostiafor Lord Uther." She reached into the satchel at her hip, pulling out a sealed envelope with the tactician's seal on the back, unbroken. That had been one of the trickiest parts of the entire charade. The second-in-command tactician of Ostia, Seras de Talunis, guarded her seal well. A bet with Matthew, however, had gotten her the seal to use for a "love" letter to be sent to Legault in a way to cause mischief among the camp a few weeks before.

The guards looked at the seal on the envelope as if it were a great puzzle before handing it back to her.

"Elimine bless your way, courier." With bated breath, Serra moved to get on the courier horse, taking only a moment to settle on the saddle comfortably enough. Nausea would soon set in again, she knew as she spurred the swift horse past the checkpoint. With the rocking gallop of the fine mare's thighs under her, the cleric felt the sting of tears fall down her face.

'I'm…..Erk is free of us.' She thought in pain, a heart wrenching sob escaping from her lips. Erk did not love her and she knew, she absolutely knew if she had even mentioned what happened near four months before that he would find her abhorrent. He would cast her friendship aside and demand the life she had to be extinguished.

The priestess could remember the moment all too clearly when it dawned on her that the night she broke her vows of chastity was more than she thought. She had stared at the herbs she had taken from the merchant, remembering the property of each. Her mind had recounted the signs, and then the days she had last had a bleeding. It had been a near three months.

When it came down to it, Serra had thought long and hard on what she should do, coming up with a plan a few days after to leave as a courier and run away. For her, this way she was taking….

It was the only way to keep the child that Erk had fathered without remembering and keep her safe from the mage's scorn and anger. It was the only way.

LLLLLLL

Disbelief was across Erk's soft face. A letter held in his hand that was shaking as his dark eyes stared straight in front of him. His lips moved without sound with his body leaning against Serra's crisp cot for a pillar. The room was devoid of the woman he had been seeking. Priscilla, who he was attending for a lesson in healing, was too busy with soldiers to help him, insisting that he go fetch Serra for her side of the tent.

His mind was racing over the details she had written of. The cleric had cried, smudges of ink here and there against the letter's contents. He knew she had been sick for the last month, constantly having to throw up at the smell of anything that offended her, but he had thought they had shared it since he had been getting nauseous for most days that she was. A strange flu that he had decided had skipped others in the camp.

When had she left? The question haunted him in his thoughts. Where had she gone? No answers came to him other than ' Sometime today' and 'Someplace you're not.' His heart constricted painfully, tighter than he had ever felt it, more than the day he had heard that he was without parents. He panted from the trepidation, uncertainty welling up in his fright.

She was gone because of him. The rest of the envelopes laid there on the bed as Erk stared in heart break that he had never known was coming. It stripped his body of feeling, draining his mind of thought of anything but her. Serra stayed there like a ghost, murmuring the secrets the letter he held in his hand told him.

'_Erk, I love you, but I know you won't ever love me back.' _

His teeth clenched harshly at the chiding voice in his mind. Her form was a wisp, moving to settle in front of him, head on his knees as her ghostly lips spoke.

'_I'm leaving not because of that, but because I don't want you to hate me. A few months ago, we were playing a drinking game with Matthew and the others. I took you to bed and you took me. I'm no longer a sister of the St. Elimine. I broke my vows for you.'_

Erk opened his mouth to let out a harsh gasp, chest heaving as he felt the lump in his throat settle there, unable to move from his stubbornness. A wail was waiting to escape into the air as the form of Serra in front of him leaned closer, speaking the most frightening line for him.

'_That's not all though. I'm with your child. I want our child to be happy and loved. I want you to one day love him. You won't need to ever love me in return. I won't burden you so this letter is goodbye. Don't look for me. Love, Serra de Ostia."_

His fingers grasped the letter, pressing his hand and letter to his leg, body curling up completely. The lump in his throat rose to the back of his mouth before he gasped harshly. The wail of a heart broken man echoed throughout the camp, causing pause amongst almost all of members of the Lycian army. Tears filled his eyes, fuzzing his sight as they fell down his cheeks like tides to the call of the sob he let out.

The mage had thought he would never feel like this in his life but it was the simple facts from the letter, echoing to him each line.

'_Goodbye.'_

LLLLLL

So, a girl from the Fire-emblem DA group did an extremely cute Serra x Erk drawing for my Secret Santa present. I thought to myself, after seeing the effort she put into the art, that I should put work back into one of my most beloved stories. I am retyping and editing each chapter of 'Drunken Lullaby.' For all of my already fans, I am sorry for the wait on Chapter 12. I have been busy with life for the most part for these last few years and ran into a lot of hardware crashes that resulted me into losing the steam I had for this story.

I think I found it again, so I have not forgotten my much beloved Serra x Erk story. I will also be posting up art for those who would like to see the character/environment designs I have in my head.

Please read and review!


	2. With This Knife

Drunken Lullaby

LLLLL

Chapter 1: With This Knife

LLLLL

_"...You wrapped your hands tight around my heart  
and squeezed it full of pain_

_With this knife I'll cut out the part of me  
the part of me that cares for you.  
With this knife I'll cutout the heart of me  
the heart that cares for you._

_I can't believe the way you took me down  
I never saw the pain  
coming in a million broken miles  
like poison for my veins"_

_-Smile Empty Soul 'With This Knife"_

LLLLL

The horse slowed down with its cloaked rider staring at the small village she was approaching. The desert horse was slowing down to a cantor, resting from its hard ride. Serra hadn't stopped for long in the months since she left the encampment near Laus, nearly three or four months before. She had lost count of how long it had been; only keeping count of the moon tides.

Her fingers slid under the cloak to the sizable bump under her ragged clothing. She looked exhausted from being on horseback and sleeping outside for the most part. The small village was at the base of a mountain pass, green and flowering with the smells of summer harvest on the wind. Stepping lightly down the path, the pregnant cleric gasped in awe at the almost picturesque village. She crossed a small bridge over an irrigation ditch, the water heading towards the fields a few houses down from where the bridge sat.

The morning smells of baking bread made her mouth salivate. Serra had been rather strict with her money since she had left, the coin pouch on her side attesting to that, being frugal for everything except horse feed, and warm bread. For some reason, she didn't crave some of the stranger things that other women did. Bread, however, was her only craving if anything, especially warm, soft bread with garlic cloves roasted in it.

The cleric shook her head firmly at the thought. Despite her thoughts on food, Serra knew it was time to stop her running and settle down. As she looked over the quaint village, people waking up and beginning to get their homes ready for the day, the woman came to decision. There was no place as beautiful or as better off to the sides of Lycia than this place it seemed.

"This will be it." She murmured softly to herself, fingers sliding against her bulging stomach. "This is our new home. Isn't that exciting, Serra?" Sighing, the pink-haired woman idly ran her fingers through her hair. "Real exciting."

Walking around, despite the early morning hour, the cleric frowned in thought. She might as well spend some silver for a piece of warmed just baked bread. The baker, a portly man with a whistle to his lips in a tune she had no idea of, was setting out his baked goods on a table in the market. The villagers were starting to walk around to and fro within the village square. Sliding off the grey mare, she adjusted herself before walking over to the fresh bread, inspecting the loaves.

"Good mornin' to yah, Miss!" Jumping from her thoughts, Serra looked at the man who called out to her. He was a taller man with a mustache that reminded her of two willow branches floating along his chin. His apron was dirty with flour and spices from the look of it as Serra's pink eyes took the man in. His blue eyes smiled with his lips and she could tell he laughed often from the amount of raven's feet around his eyes. "A silver for a Lausian-styled loaf. Mine are the Glerribury's county special after a while. I even get calls fer the baker's dozen in Bern if yah sure to believe it, Miss!"

"If your bread can lighten a "Stern Bern" then it's good enough for me to buy." She giggled softly, reaching over to point at the one she was eyeing moments before. The baker smiled, leaning down to pick up the bread and hand it to her before stopping, realizing she had no morning basket or waiting cloth for the bread.

"I can have my lad deliver it, if yah horse ain' got the room fer my bread, Miss." Lips dipping into a frown, the cleric glanced over her cloaked shoulder to see the horse behind her. Feeling slightly apprehensive about riding around with a full loaf of bread, Serra seemed to be contested in thought over the delicacy. Normally she would ride immediately after buying a loaf, trying to keep her travels continuing as fast as she could, phantom memories nipping at her heels. The difference this time was that she was sure that she couldn't stomach two more months on the horse, especially being so late in her pregnancy. Sensing some unease or perhaps taking in the tenseness of her shoulders, the baker piped up. "I can assure yah that our bread will get there all in one piece an' be as fresh as it was out of the oven in fron' of yah."

"T-that's not it." Biting her lower lip, Serra took in the baker once more. Waging another battle before opening her mouth again, Serra opened her clasp that held the cloak on her shoulders, sliding it down to her arm. Her rounded belly easily coming into view despite her long over-tunic barely letting her curves is seen. "I'm a healer and I can't continue on horseback any longer. Please….Is there someone I can talk with about buying a shack or even a broken down room?"

The baker smiled ruefully at the woman in front of him, scared, hand resting on her protruding stomach before answering her inquisitive plea.

"How far along are you, Miss?" Serra's clutched her long tunic with her fingers at the question. She chewed on her bottom lip slowly, heaving out a sigh as she realized just how truly long it had been since she had abandoned her post in the Lycian army.

"Seven months." Her voice was soft at the admission as if she was a school girl caught with the most mortifying secret of the century by the elder sisters of the priesthood, though that part in itself was a truth that she was a shame to the priesthood for her child she was bearing. The baker let out a soft sigh, glancing at the door behind him in thought. It took him only a moment longer to let a gentle smile on his lips towards Serra.

"Now, let it be known to St. Elimine that I never let a woman down on her luck without help, Miss, so you don't go an' be letting this out to just anyone." She leaned forward in suspense, uncertain of what his next words were going to be, eyes wide in fear that he wouldn't help her at all, either by not directing her to someone who could help or mocking her pregnancy with Erk as something terrible and demeaning, despite Serra's opinion that it wasn't. "Healer Bridgette retired jus' recently and didn' leave much of a healer for the rest of us to rely on. I've got a hunting lodg' up in the forest by one of the mountain trails. I'm sure if yah are willin' to part with som' coin fer it, I ain' got the means to keepin' it. I also want my family to not hav' to pay fer any help when we be needin' it. Got me, Miss?"

Serra gaped, all too happily feeling the fear drain away into a set of anticipating happiness. She laughed loudly, a bright smile upon her lips for the first time in perhaps months. She had been running too far in her brooding to rely on any bit of hope like this. She had expected to run into troubles every inch of her way; though for the most part she had barely missed almost any trouble she could have gotten into on her way.

"Here! Here! Just tell me how much!" She began reaching into her coin satchel, desperately trying to bring out the silver. The baker seemed to be taken back by her wide smile and laugh, before grinning to himself at her enthusiasm. His caked on hands reached out to her own, patting the hand over her coin pouch, making the cleric stop in her franticness.

"We can talk abou' it over some breakfast. My wife is inside with my lad. Tell her that you're comin' fer breakfast. She'll want to know all abou' yah fer sure." With that, Serra smiled to her horse, closing her satchel before going to the nearest tie-post to tie the horse's reigns around the wood. Her new life was just starting. The baker stopped her before she went to the door behind him. "What's yah name, Miss?"

"Healer Serra. I forgot to ask yours."

"Yah sure to learn it from my wife soon 'nough. Oh! Don' forget yah bread!"

LLLLLL

"There's no time!" In a small cottage, quite a few months later, wooden floors and a hearth nearby, lying on the bed with beige muslin cloth twisted around Serra's hands, dangling from the wooden beams they were tied to, the woman in question was clenching her fingers tightly into balled muslin and fists with each moment. Her forehead seemed to pour sweat out in a fashion that made it seem like it was a hot summer day when it was truly the middle of the winter months. Her pink hair, tied back for her own convenience earlier that morning, was fighting to get out of its hand-wrought braid. Hovering over the pink-haired soon to be mother, a sturdier woman of 5'7" sat, coaching her through the sea of pain and suffering.

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?! TRUST ME! I KNOW THAT." Serra gulped for air after yelling at the woman above her, fixing her with a glare that seemed fit for a basilisk queen, though basilisk queens and she truly didn't share relations. The woman above her had the audacity to laugh, especially at her pain. To say that Serra De Ostia was amused would be an overstatement. Between the constant cramping in her lower abdomen, the symptom of giving birth, she countered easily in her mind, the violet-eyed woman had no true patience for the woman above her to be laughing at her. In fact, her only patience was with the child she was giving birth to. Even the non-existent father in his life was being placed with blame with the pain she felt. Another cramp assailed her lower half, making her twinge and grit her teeth. She was going to swear revenge against Erk De Etruia, if it was the last thing she did on this planet if for the pain she was feeling now.

Her hands tightened around the muslin ropes in pain.

LLLLLLLLLLLL

Somewhere in Etruia, Erk was in pain, curling up on his couch in his study, arms around his middle as he cried out loudly. The pain was too intense to move.

LLLLLLLLLLLL

Panting, straining with her body fighting her, Serra looked directly at the woman who was helping her give birth. Her name was Jun Ashvine, the blacksmith's daughter who had four boys, all adolescents whom got into trouble by trampling her small cottage garden. For Serra, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the mother running her through the process. The pain racking her body intensified in a shrill drilling point as the blacksmith's daughter nodded to Serra.

"I can see the head, Healer. Just one more push should do it." Gasping for breath as the darkness flittered around the edges of her sight, the pink-topped healer gripped tightly to the muslin sheets that were coiled tightly around her hands as she took in the most air that she could and let out a scream so loud, that she was sure a few countries away could have heard it.

LLLLLLL

Hector De Ostia, the Marquis of Ostia, perked his ears up from the boring amount of paperwork he was trying to finish at the behest of his busybody of a tactician. "What in all the hells was that scream?"

Oswin, wearing his general's heavy armor and holding his chained axe, took one long and hard piercing look at his liege before only shaking his head. "Milord, I think it's time for you to sleep. You seem to be hearing things."

LLLLLL

The scream was long, almost endless seeming before Serra fell slack to the bed with her hands being held above her by the length of muslin cloth hanging from her wooden roof beams. There was an intense soreness that Serra didn't know how to describe other than riding saddle-sore for a month straight. That might compare the pain, but having never actually been saddle-sore for a month; Serra wasn't sure about that assumption.

Her eyes closed for a blissful few moments before her thoughts ran rampant. There was no sound where the child normally comes out. Wetting her cracked lips with her smooth tongue, strength gone from her limbs, she tried to raise herself up to see her child. Jun had yet to say anything to her. 'Elimine, let my child be safe!' The prayer she hoped reached home as her struggle to see won out her tiredness.

"I-Is my c-child….?" The word couldn't be said. She didn't want to believe the child she had felt kick only hours earlier before deciding it was time to leave his comfy inside carriage wasn't going to be kicking anymore in its sleep. Jun glanced over Serra, eyes wide with unshed tears and a grim line to her lips. For once in her life, Serra felt as if she wanted to truly die, as if there was nothing left for her, a thirsty woman who lost something she had such a brief time.

Jun held up a bundled newborn in the swaddling quilt that she had given Serra. The mother looked down at the child, bottom lip shaking before her hands moved to take the child in her weak, noodle arms, releasing her hold on the muslin completely. The newborn was beautiful, so very cherubic and innocent looking. She held onto him with such gentle care before the first sob escaped her. Her mouth opened to a torrent of tears. Jun looked down, beginning to try and help clean up the after birth.

"E-eli-elimine! Place y-your g-grace…..on t-this child!" Serra's quiet but forceful prayers echoed in the cottage as she pressed the infant upright to her collarbone, crying into its back, patting her hand against the child's back, body rocking back and forth in despair. "N-n-not m-mine, no-not mine and E-erk's….Please!"

A loud cough, barely heard over her fevered prayers between her hiccupping sobs stopped her in her tracks completely. Jun looked up at the child in Serra's hold, eyes wide with tear stains on her blotchy cheeks before the bundle in the new mother's arms started squirming. Serra glanced down at the newborn in confusion for a few moments before a loud wail pierced the air.

"By the Saints, healer! H-He's breathing!" Jun exclaimed loudly, dropping everything to come see the child in Serra's hands. Serra moved the child from lying on her chest to resting on her arms. Tears, happier ones than moments before began clouding her vision of the infant. His cheeks were burning red, tears falling down his chubby apple cheeks that Serra knew had to have come from her side of her family, whoever they were.

"He's crying! By Saint Elimine, he's a he! My son is alive! He's alive!" Her words were breathless in her astonishment, drowning out her fear from moments earlier before that cough woke him up from the embrace of Morinth, the Saint of Death. Jun smiled down at the new mother, all pink and worn out, but practically glowing from the look at the infant in her weak arms.

"What will you name him?" Jun's soft voice didn't cause Serra to look up from the child that might not have been only moments before. Reaching a hand to the child's still bloody cheek, Serra shook her mussed pink hair in thought, before she felt the name reach her lips a few seconds later.

"Reka. Reka, the child of Luna." Smiling softly, she held out the soiled cloth and the still bloody child to Jun. She bit her bottom lip as she handed Reka to Jun for cleaning. Erk would love him, every inch of him. His eyes were brilliant lavender that seemed to illuminate his rouge cheeks and she somewhat suspected that the tuft of hair on his head was really going to be the same as Erk's. Her hair tone was far too light to be the dark matted patch under the blood. He had her lungs as he quieted down as soon as the damp cleaning cloth was touching him.

She turned to watch her son through a haze of weariness. She could imagine Erk's dark eyes above her, cold alabaster fingers wiping down her forehead, and his soft deep voice speaking quietly of how Reka was the most beautiful thing in the world and that he was proud of her for her effort. A small smile on her lips, Serra fell back into the mountain of pillows behind her into a deeply, bone-tired sleep.

She thought, right before she hit the darkness of dreaming, that she could see Erk's face wide in a smile with the same red blossoms on his cheeks as Reka had.

LLLLLL

It had been a year since he had seen her, a year since she left, a year since the letter he held sacred with him wherever he went was first read. He had calculated the dates, remembering the last time they had been drinking, when she was acting strangely the next morning, to now. She had been three months pregnant when she left, which meant that the child she told him about would have been five or six months old now.

He felt his heart nearly give at that thought. He had a child and that child did not know him, would not know him all because he was considered to not have the ability to take the responsibility. Hell, to him, he was denied the truest chance to even care, but then he knew Serra would take any of his caring as just wanting to take care of the life growing in her and not genuine concern for her.

In this, Erk De Etruia could not fault her for it would be probably true. He might have just cared enough and then when she gave birth, he would not care about her. He would grow to detest her more because he knew he would have doted upon any child of his own.

It was an ugly truth for him to face.

"Erk? Are you alright?"

Awake from his thoughts, wide-eyed in surprise, Erk realized he had been stuck in his thoughts again about the child he did not know. Light green eyes, eyes that belonged to a fresh cut grass, stared at him in concern before a fringe of dark red cut in them. He breathed a heavy sigh, looking down at his own horse, a brown mare he had bought cheaply a few months ago during the beginning of their newest campaign under Seras De Talunis, the tactician from the campaign to take Nergal down.

"I'm fine, Priscilla. Sorry to worry you so." He mumbled the necessary apologies to his friend. The other healer sighed softly, glancing around the plains their travelling column was going across. The wyvern knight with green hair the color of the sea was staring over at her from what Erk noticed. Guy, the sword fighter, was near the knight as well, taking a moment to take a glance over at the woman beside him. Erk could only grumble to himself. No one else in the entire army, except for Hector, the wolfish Marquis of Ostia, Seras, the tactician, and he knew about the real reason Serra had deserted them.

The pitiful looks he received had gotten worse from those in the circle of knowledge, especially when he told Seras the child had been born sometime, half-a-year ago from his counting Serra's months. He was plagued with her being, with what could have been with a small child that perhaps could have looked like him completely or look like Serra.

He began feeling the prickles of tears in his eyes again to only shake his head slightly. He had cried enough as it was for himself. In the past year, since she had left, he would turn to try and talk with her, or imagine her voice with a cheerful comment just waiting to be screeched into his ear. He would pause in the middle of saying the first syllable of her name, dying off as he remembered she wasn't there.

She would never be there again. There was no more excited chatter to fill his days to the point he would be able to vomit the visceral words she spoke. There was only loneliness and the occasional conversation with Priscilla and his foster parents, but for the most part, his days were spent as a shell of who he was before she left. He had fought, perhaps as hard as he always had when casting as that was the only time he felt that he could really come up for air from the suffocation of his regrets.

Erk had achieved becoming a sage of Etruia, passing his test with nary a party nor a drink to commend him for it as the memory of Serra's bishop promotion had still been raw with her leaving. The memory was particularly unsettling as he realized a few months before that she knew she would be leaving the army, deserting everyone for a child of his and he hadn't seen the signs any more than the tactician who was her friend had.

His memory could recall her invitation for dinner at a local home at the nearby town they had saved. Her face was cheerful, bright with enjoyment as she played with the children, intent on bringing them joy from the carnage of the plains near the town. He was distractedly talking with the parents as she played; only noticing once when she turned her gaze to him with eyes that felt like she was remorseful for something he had no name for. As if she had been pleading with him that they could be this family, who had settled, had children, were happy. He had looked away in embarrassment of getting caught looking at her in a manner that had implications. Erk felt another lash of self-loathing tie itself around his neck. He should have had the clarity to see what she was really wanting.

He had dismissed it as a trick of the light, dismissed her just as cruelly without even knowing.

Maybe that had been the last straw for her. Maybe that tiny refusal, that one look away had broken her.

All he knew now was that he needed to try and not think about her anymore, try to not think of the child he could have held as his own, taught as his own, treated as a son should be treated, like he wanted to be treated before his parents died. It all came down to a singular conclusion.

He would bury himself in magic and its research. Magic would be his boon companion.

LLLLL

AN: YES. So AWESOME INSPIRATION. I 3 you, muse of words. Please read and review! Have a good day!


	3. Taking Over Me

Drunken Lullaby :: An Erk and Serra Story ::  
  
Chapter 2: Taking Over Me  
  
"I lie awake and try so hard  
Not to think of you  
But who can decide what they dream?  
And dream I do...  
  
I believe in you  
I'll give up everything to find you...."  
  
-'Taking over me' Evanescence  
  
It had all begun again. That gnawing feeling he no longer was vulnerable against now took him victim as he sat before Lord Unther of Ostia and the now much less of a rascal, Lord Hector of Ostia. The table evenly divided their righteous presences to the other, equals all in the same room. Hector's blue hair had grown, now in a ponytail, much like Lord Pent's, on his shoulder armor. His eyes were softened by the way of his ladylove, the tactician journeyman, Lita.  
  
Lita was an apprentice underneath the tactician who had planned all their battles. She stood beside the seated Hector and Unther awaiting a decision to be decided. The six-year older sage that sat before them had not said anything from the moment he was told his assignment. This assignment was given to Erk personally so they knew he had no right to decline.  
  
The sage looked up underneath a mass of purple hair. His amethyst eyes glowing in a dark color as if he was tempted to use his anima magic to get away. Pausing, he shook his head in thought. The lord of the Lycian League gave this assignment.  
  
He knew he had to do it.  
  
"When do you need her by?" He asked in his monotonous voice waiting for the answer rather patiently. His jobs as of late did not consist of helping pretty frail women get from somewhere. In fact his business as of the last six years included two campaigns, one with Lady Lyndis, the other with Lord Eliwood, reading about many different tomes, and experimenting with magic while still undertaking many magic specific jobs such as helping the Lycian League lords from time to time, like this assignment.  
  
"Within four years. If she doesn't come in person, then we cannot go ahead with our plan. None of the priestesses within any of the orders have enough power to help us seal this foul magic away, besides the orders are very corrupt and there is not a priest or priestess you can trust as far as you can throw them. I trust you will keep the details of your mission to yourself, Master Sage?" Unther answered. His scarred face betraying little emotion though the sage could tell that he dislikes the idea of an unsealed artifact.  
  
Erk's ready hands swept through a side bang then settled back onto his lap. He mulled over the subject in particular. The person in the mission needed to be tracked. The person had been away from the order they hailed from for almost six years. No contact with anyone when they left. Hector obviously trusted his choice and he knew that everybody needed a little reminder of what they often left behind.  
  
He had to hunt down Serra. Hector explained that he was the only one in the entire campaign and the order that knew her completely and utterly. He even said she would most likely come with someone who had been a comrade in arms, even a familiar face. Erk had been cold to Hector when he mentioned that tormentor's name.  
  
Ever since she had left six years ago without a trace to her whereabouts, he had barely been able to ever get to sleep and in his free time she tormented him along with the voice of their child. He often found himself wondering what the child was like. Shaking his head, he returned to the job at hand.  
  
He had to accept. He would be able to see her again if he did. Erk could also maybe see a glimpse of the child he never saw hide nor hair of. No one had learned of Serra bearing his child except for Lucius and Lord Pent. Both times he had been utterly drunk when it had happened but from what they both had explained was that he had called out to Serra and asked how their child was doing and why she felt that she couldn't tell him about his child. They also said he turned into a sobbing mess as he longed for her.  
  
"Is there any rumors of her?" Both lords shrugged and told him more than likely she wasn't in Caelin or Phaere, or Ostia where people might know her. What he knew of her also suggested that she would not be in Bern. She found the wyvern riders distasteful and hated the military attitude in Bern. So she was either in another country or within Laus. So far what he remembered of her was that she loved Lycia and would never leave.  
  
Unther commented that it had taken her a whole lot of bribery on even leaving to Etruia. She knew of Etruia and its sages and knew that it was a country more or less of study than anything. He seemed discontent with that fact but merely pushed it aside. Getting up, he nodded to Lord Unther.  
  
"I'll do it. I'll leave tomorrow morning. Would you please have a horse ready and a few tomes of elfire and a few healing staves waiting for me in the morning, my lords?" Both had nodded their consent, Lord Unther requesting a servant almost immediately. Both stood up and waited for Erk to bow and leave.  
  
"Shouldn't you have told him the real reason, my lord?" Lita asked Hector as the door closed. He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of her somewhat fair face. His deep-throated chuckles caused her to tilt her head in question. Sometimes, Hector just acted weird, especially around her. Placing a gloved finger on her nose, he grinned.  
  
"For a tactician, Lita, you don't have much tact." He laughed a little more, tapping his finger on her nose. "If he knew the real reason why he was fetching Serra then he would have insisted he was fine until he worked himself to death. He needs to see her along with her little brat. Lord Pent requested this out of a favor for concern of Erk. "His tactician made a face then shook her head. Lord Pent, the fatherly man that he was, came to Lord Unther with a plan to get Erk stubbornly out of his books and into the world once again.  
  
Erk had been working continually and hadn't stopped for sleep for a near of two days. He finally had gone to sleep only after Lord Pent got him drunk enough then dragged him to his chambers within the sage's hall when Erk asked for Serra and their child's well being. It made a lot of sense now to Hector as he had read her letter. In it she thanked him, with a heavy heart then said he was a pigheaded moron that needed to learn manners in order to get a wife.  
  
He had shaped up sharply as he had to deal with court people nowadays. With a smirk, he held his arm out for the lady tactician and went out to the dining hall to eat their dinner. Unther came down, following them a ways back from where they walked.  
  
Erk was going to go find the person the needed he most, whether he stubbornly liked it or not. Hector's thoughts hit it head on.  
  
"Healer!!" A small girl with her hair in pigtails ran down the hill to the small white cottage. The foliage of green trees and plants over gave the place a sort of mysticism that Serra was more than happy to allow. Coming out of the nearby garden, a woman with long pink hair down to her bum, the obvious healer, took this chance to watch the small wayward child.  
  
"My name is Serra, not healer," The pink-haired woman told the girl when she had stopped in front of the woman. Her small tiny breathes coming in pants. Her hair was a light blonde-blue frizzed to say the least. She clutched the healer's skirts in hope, and also to steady her small human body. "And that would be Ms. Serra to you, Nyne. (Nigh-nee)" She added as an afterthought.  
  
Nyne nodded in confirmation. No person went against the healer's commands. Serra, as the pink-haired bishop was named, had protected the nearby village and healed the sick or wounded whenever needed with the condition that she did not get paid but instead had favors given instead. The innkeeper would give Serra and Reka, a boy about Nyne's age, any meal everyday for free for saving her husband from yellow fever a year back. Everyone allowed the Healer to mainly get what she wanted. She was their main warrior and also their healer.  
  
"M-Ms. Serra!! O-one of the b-b-boys had an acci-accident at the river!!" Nyne looked up towards the calm faced woman. Serra was willing to show emotion but you could see everything was fake unless it came to Reka or the untouched subject of his father. The Healer stood there and nodded, understandingly to the child that began to have tears come to her eyes.  
  
"Take a few deep breaths and tell me what has happened. A panicked mind helps no one, remember that always." Her voice didn't change but showed that she was concerned to say the least. Earlier that day she remembered Reka going off with some of the village boys and some of the tomboyish girls. They had decided to go play in the river since it was such a warm day. She worried endlessly about her Reka and was always relieved when he barely would ever get hurt.  
  
"One of the boys went to far in the river and was getting carried away. Reka and some of the other boys followed him to where he got picked up by camped bandits. Reka and the boys hid in the bushes and told me to get you!!" She was scared out of her wits. Nyne's hands were clamped at her sides, clutching her trousers; she waited for Lady Serra to collect her thoughts. A soft hand patted her head and she glanced up to see a small smile upon the Healer's visage.  
  
"You did good. Tell your mother that I will come by later to see her. I need you to go tell Klaja the baker leader to get the soldiers and tell him what you told me." Serra got up and began wandering towards the exit out of her small piece of storybook life. "Now. It wasn't a suggestion!! And do it calmly!!" Serra exclaimed at the small frozen girl. Nyne nodded and ran out of the area before she could take another step.  
  
Placing a hand upon a small volume, she looked towards the sky. It would be a good day to use the small volume. Silently, well as silently as a running bishop could be, she ran through the woods to the river nearby. She was afraid deeply within her being, the cold grip of fear swirling her already turbulent mind. She may have looked calm to Nyne, but she had been very frantic in her own mind.  
  
'Well, those bandits will just have to learn that messing with a woman and her son is a very bad thing.' She thought darkly as she ran down the riverbank waiting for some sign of her son, the sunshine of her dreaded life.  
  
It had been at least two years since he had gotten the order to find Serra and eight years since he had last seen the pink-haired minx. He sighed, sitting up on his sleeping blanket. It was night and he knew that he would be coming to the last village in Laus that was even near the border of Ostia. They had been in Ostia eight years ago, on the other side of the Ostian Territory near Caelin so if she had went the way they had come from, she would most likely be in Laus.  
  
Sighing, he laid down on his back, his eyes staring up at the stars. He prayed to St. Illumine that she would be safe along with their child. On nights when he was often in his study, he found himself looking out the window, gray shutters against the stonewashed building. His eyes would wander to and from each blinking light while his mind would remember a night like this once many years before when he had traveled with Serra.  
  
He could remember that he had been watching the stars since her 'highness' needed her beauty sleep. It had been in the middle of night, sometime between midnight and one when he felt her presence settle right beside him. He hadn't said anything for a while and neither had she. Her pink hair up in buns to sleep in as her fingers rose to the sky pointing to a star.  
  
"Do you know much about the legends of that star?" She asked. He had shaken his head in answer and in wonderment as she almost immediately replied. "As I suspected. That star is called Luna's signal. Many eons ago, a woman named Luna had decided to allow her son, Artemis, to walk the earth with normal people. Under the guise of the name Reka, he wandered with the humans for many centuries leaving Luna to watch her child from afar."  
  
"That must've been sad and regretful for her." He commented off-hand. Serra's piercing glare told him that he had interrupted her. He could feel the burning gaze strip away his soul as she sighed; shaking her kept up lockes and decided to continue. Her body turned to face him as she continued.  
  
"Well, Reka met a young cleric woman named Serra." He had a faint idea that she was now making this entire thing up. "Don't give me that skepticism, Erky. She's the one I was named after all." She paused, glaring at him still. "Well, he met Serra and had fallen in love with her after many trials in where he had to save her. The day he learned that she was growing weak against her illnesses, he went to commune with his mother. Luna was happy to commune with her son if only to talk about her son's wife's sickness."  
  
"He asked if she would allow them into the star realm where everyone stays immortal. Luna so happy that her son was coming home told him yes, She told him that she would distract the two soldiers of the Gods by sending a scorpion and leave her signal for them to come home." Serra had allowed a breath to catch up to her mind. "The scorpion sent the two soldiers," With this she pointed at the scorpion constellation then the two bear constellations." Running away from the gate they were supposed to guard. Luna's signal went on but the light of the Gods, the moon, caught Reka and his bride, Serra. They stand waiting for the Gods to turn their light away to reach Luna's signal."  
  
She pointed to the pair of stars that looked as if they were twins. Her finger traced he path to Polaris, the star that was Luna's signal. "The myth says that on the new moon the twins try to get closer but their path is forever ingrained on that spot. They can never move because the Gods' light turned them into stone." She had been smiling at him then had flipped herself back upon her spine.  
  
"So what do you think of it, Erky?" She asked brightly. He had been nothing more than eager enough for the silence to prevail so he hadn't said anything, keeping his eyes closed and his breathing slowed so that she would get the hint. He could feel a frown be set upon her face. In truth, he guessed that the story was a bit sad and made him think that the two lovers were a tragedy.  
  
"Erky?" She raised herself up and looked over at him. Sighing, seeing that he had fallen asleep, she rose up and went back into her tent to get something. A few minutes later, he felt the soft caress of her favorite blanket. Another body coming under the soft cover followed the soft blanket. It was a mutual agreement between them he supposed as he really did fall asleep alongside Serra.  
  
He sighed closing eyes until the next morning.  
  
Serra's swiftness caught a bandit trying to sneak to the area where her son was. She had them in sight and she definitely knew that she would not allow such a brute to touch the children let alone her precious Reka. Her arms outstretched with her staff and she released a small light spell that couldn't make a lot of noise. Getting the bandit's attention, she focused upon another.  
  
Each hit of her spells caused him to stagger until she decided to cast a sleep. He didn't have any resistance and found that sleep came well welcomed. Reka rushed over to his mother as he saw her.  
  
He was a bit tall for a boy his age, lavender hair short and wavy much like his father's. Serra seemed often sad when she remembered the fact that her son did look like his father more than her. His open beige shirt showed his somewhat tanned skin. He was often outside, she made sure, helping his mother or playing. Whenever he could though, he usually read whatever tomes his mother had or the town had.  
  
His eyes soft and big were worried as he hugged his mother and pointed to the other boys. There were only two out of the five he usually hung out with. Going over to the boys, she told them discreetly to follow her out of the forest and not to make much noise. The two boys were scared and nodded, following the Healer. Reka's eyes kept roaming the forest. He wasn't afraid for himself at all, he was afraid for his friends, Thom, Vern, Ikus, and Ena. Ena, Thom, and Vern had gone off in the woods to try to get Ikus back from the bandits. Instead Miles, Reka, and Gin had stayed where they were until Reka's mother came.  
  
Once out of the forested part of the area, Serra stopped and turned to the boys. Miles's blue eyes seemed to be holding back tears. His light blue hair in disarray and sweat from running after Ikus. Gin with his floppy red hair and red eyes weren't in a much better state. She looked over to her son, her pride and joy and watched a frown mar the usually happy face he had.  
  
"Miles, Gin, go home and take a small bath. Tell your parents that you'll be seeing me later on tomorrow morning. Reka, its nearly time for dinner. Let us go eat." The two boys nodded, dismissed running to their mother's skirts. Miles was the most timid of all the village children, while Gin was one of the smartest. Reka was always the most controlling of his emotions. So she understood quite well what happened to the other three.  
  
Ikus, being a huge tomboy, was the bravest girl in the village while Nyne was the most kind. Thom was such a fool and Vern was just athletic and probably only smarter than a box of rocks, sad to even think. Ena was just Ena. He was the weirdest child, destined to be some sort of philosopher. Serra walked the road home, Reka following slowly behind her. He was infuriated that his mother didn't immediately go out and help his four friends.  
  
As they got home, he kept his frown on throughout his dinner of pot roast and vegetables. His eyes were heavily focused upon his plate in deep thought. Serra, who sat across from him, noticed that her son was angry. It was a mother's intuition she supposed, as she stayed quiet to him. Sooner or later he would be ready to talk she surmised, picking up their plates and putting them in their sink to wash.  
  
"Take a bath, Reka. After that, I'll tell you a bedtime story if I must, but go to bed." His mother's voice sounded as calm as if the bandits hadn't taken any notice of his friends being kidnapped by stupid bandits. He grit his teeth at his mother, secretly wishing that he had a more sensible woman be his mother. He stripped off his shirt and trousers and stepped into the small metal tub that was already warmed by his mother magic.  
  
Reka could remember when he had turned four. Serra, his mother, had danced around with him, parading him in the small dancing hall that Klaja had set up many years before. She had picked him up and was teaching him to dance even if he hadn't wanted to. He didn't like the fact that she wasn't being nice enough to let him go but when she gave him a look of concern when he allowed a frown to show his displeasure, he nearly cried.  
  
So then he went on with her and smiled as she continued to teach him to dance. His mother was a rather carefree woman so, he barely had to smile to see her happiness overflow. He growled washing his lavender hair, the curls dripping down straight to a little past his chin. He couldn't believe that they were taken and the only person that had been able to help them immediately had walked away; in fact, she was sitting on their bed, reading a small letter that was yellowed and old.  
  
It was the only thing they had of his father. His mother didn't like anyone to know of Reka's father. It was an untouched subject and only once did she mention him to Reka. It had been when he was training with her one morning. He had excelled and memorized the fire tomes that his mother had bought a few years before.  
  
'That's good, Reka. You're going to be a great mage like you father. He would be proud of my little Reka.' She had smiled sadly at him then felt a small tear fall down her cheek. Her son, six years old, was doing excellent at his magic training. She had bent over him and patted him on his head when she felt the torrent of deeply hidden emotions break.  
  
Reka had watched his mother sob. Her body kneeling over him, her hands holding his head to her chest. He didn't know if it was bad or not, but he at least had a general idea of his father. It was the first time he had heard his mother say anything about him. 'Don't cry, mama. I'm sure he didn't want tears. Reka doesn't want tears but smiles and hugs. Mama needs to smile, no tears....'  
  
He felt her head snap up sharply then settle back onto his hair. Her fingers deftly stroking his hair. She then bent down to his level and smiled sadly.  
  
"No tears. Promise?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
That had also been the last time she had cried in front of him. His mother and him were well off and Serra acted enough to be both a mother and a father so he had never asked any questions of his father. He really had no need to. Smiling at the warmness of the bath, he heard his mother's call to get dry. Once dry and in warmed clothes, he walked over to their bed, and lay down.  
  
"Now, in the morning, you will have to help yourself to some of the leftover porridge from this morning. I'll put it on the able with a small shield spell. You know how to break those. I will expect that you'll be done when I get back, all right, Reka?" She told him of her morning plans to go and get the soldiers at dawn then to face the bandits with a small strategy she had surmised.  
  
"Ikus, Thom, Vern, and Ena will come back safely. I'm sure that the bandits won't hurt them and if they do, then it just helps make more trouble for them when Klaja puts them on trial." She kissed his forehead, wiping away some lavender curls. Laying down beside him, soft, warm arms enveloping him like usual, Serra held her son in a motherly fashion.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
"Yes, my little Reka?"  
  
"Sing me a song please...."  
  
"A song? Which one?"  
  
"Any."  
  
"All right....."  
  
"It's magic from the moon, shalle a le rilla, whispering with sweet voices. If I could grant myself one wish, I wanna hold your hands and laugh with you. In my dreams....or maybe my memories, I'll see you again, won't I?"  
  
He dozed off to the sound of her voice only to slowly reawake to the soft song she sang.  
  
"It's magic from the moon, shalle a le rilla. If you can overcome the sadness and sorrow, and if I can e touched by a merciful gentleness, then I wanna sleep beside you. When the spell breaks apart, then the farewell would come again. So if I can show you all my heart now, then I wanna hold your hands and dance with you. "  
  
As Reka felt his eyes closed briefly, he could hear his mother start to become sleepy. Her voice becoming softer at the end of the song. Her grip upon him was looser and her eyes dropped closed as she finished with her nicely tuned voice.  
  
"Into the lights, where we belong, someday, somewhere.....I know we'll meet again, and until......then......."  
  
He closed his eyes and thought once more to the events that had perspired that afternoon. Four of his friends were gone. His mother didn't seem to hold a care in the world if the bandits were to kill them and he had followed his mother's skirts and ran away from his friends.  
  
Looking over in the darkness of the house, he saw his small traveler cloak and his tomes. He felt as if he wouldn't be able to sleep through the injustice of it all. His mother had always taught him to go with his gut feeling when it warned him of something. She had also taught him that justice was the only way to live.  
  
'Never kill. Cripple a man enough that he can be caught for justice and tried in a fair court of people that can judge. Never kill a person, Reka. St. Illumine frowns upon it and so does the world.'  
  
His mother's words stood out in his mind as he eased himself away from his mother, replacing himself with a nearby throw pillow. He strapped on his leather boots, making sure they were the worn in ones, then dressed himself in a green vest over his beige blouse, tightening the strings of his blouse.  
  
His cape draped itself over him, a dark green cloak swathing his small figure. He grabbed his scribe bag and put in a vulnerary, a thunder tome, and a fire tome then in a second thought, added some biscuits. He was probably not going to return in the morning even if he kept his hopes up pretty damned high.  
  
His eyes concentrated around him looking for an exit that wouldn't cause a lot of noise. If he went through the door, he knew the door would creak very loudly. His mother had yet to go up to the village to get some oil for the hinges. If he went through the barn, he would scare his mother's horse and his small filly, Luna and Diana.  
  
His last choice, which was the best, as he knew, was the window. The window shutters were normally open during the late summer evenings so it wasn't unusual for there to be a small noise. The other side of the window would only be a small fall and there wasn't too much harm in falling two or three feet. He placed his hands on the sill, pulling himself up and flipping a leg over the other side, straddling the white wood.  
  
Balancing quite well, he flipped his other leg and slowly dropped to the ground with a small 'oomph.' He paused to see if his mother was going to the window to pop over and tell him to get back inside. His heart thudded loudly in his ears as he waited with growing anticipation. Seeing that she hadn't woken up, he walked away quickly from his home to go find his captured friends and to free them.  
  
Little did he know that he would find something that could change his mother's and his lives.  
  
Okay, I'm done with this chapter. The song that Serra sings to Reka is 'UK' by Gackt. It took me nearly a whole day to find he perfect song for her to sing so that is why this chapter is a little later than usual. So far I think I'm gong to prolong the series past eight chapters to maybe ten. If its past ten then I am shooting myself, hands down.  
  
I want to thank all my reviewers!! You are all so kind!!!! When I first put down Drunken Lullaby I actually thought it was a Christmas day since my guy friend's mom got me a cool looking garb-dress, then a leather belt with a gold plate, and shirt to go with everything for my foam fighting!! Then I also got to eat a half a pan of brownies for free!! I paid for it later though by having to run nearly all afternoon.........but the brownies were so worth it.  
  
Anyway, I gotta go. I hope that my marks will still be there. I noticed in the last few chapters that took them out ad kinda mashed in the scenes which wasn't suppose to happen. Hopefully my dividers stay.  
  
Anyway, Please review!! Thank you!! 


	4. Just a Ride

Drunken Lullaby::An Erk and Serra Story::  
  
Chapter 3: Just a Ride  
  
'Life, It's ever so strange.  
  
It's so full of change.  
  
Think that you've worked it out  
  
Then BANG  
  
Right out of the blue  
  
Something happens to you  
  
To throw you off course."  
  
-'Just a Ride' Jem  
  
His eyes now well adjusted to the darkness, he knew he had to hide. His first move once he got away from his mother's house was to find the bandit's camp, which hadn't been that, hard. It had been at least two miles away from the village as far as they had been earlier that day. Finding it again, Reka had decided to watch them for a while.  
  
Sitting, he saw that they changed the guard every hour waking up some unfortunate brigand to become the guard. Most of the brigands were tired even after twenty minutes on their watch.  
  
Reka sighed. His mother often sent him to spy for her on some of the villagers to see if they were taking their medicine. She often had trouble of the younger ones taking it so she sent out her son as she worked in the garden or in the house with the herbs.  
  
He knew in the morning, she would only shake her head, figuring that he had gone out to go get his friends in the village as he often did. That was if she didn't examine what he took with him, like his tomes.  
  
Staring, he felt the urge to venture a little closer to the camp and find some place to sleep. It was getting a little late, especially for a child and he had been biting back yawns for a little over an hour. Looking around quietly, he found a small opening in a tree's roots. He could lay himself comfortably down and be able to see the bandit encampment still.  
  
Reaching up with small fingers, he made sure that the hood of his cloak covered his face, and the rest of the dark matter covered his body from sight. Slowly, out of exhaustion, he fell asleep.  
  
Waking up, Serra knew that somehow her son was gone from her arms. It wasn't that much of a shock really, she supposed. More often than not, Reka woke up at least an hour earlier than she ever could. He would usually go to town to get his friends or work in the garden. Brushing her hair, she calmed her frantic nerves about the four children that had been taken. In fact, more than likely she would be hearing Ikus's mother then Thom's father. Ikus and Thom were brother and sister, but only because their parents had married the other widowed parent.  
  
Sighing, she put her hair up into a ponytail with a purple ribbon that Reka had given her from the Midsummer Festival. The ribbon was a dark and deep purple much like his hair, so she assumed that it did fit her somewhat. Undressing out of her shift, she washed herself down with a washcloth and some of the water from her basin.  
  
Changing into her undergarments, she slipped on a familiar green tunic, skirt, and vest. Serra often found herself wearing the ensemble without much thought. She put on her sword belt with the light weapon. Easily finding her bishop's staff, a holy white still even after many years of use, she held it with one hand and slipped a few healing staves with a vulnerary into a belt pouch. Strapping, her leather armor, and her leather boots, she was ready to go hunt some bandits, rescue the children, and escape the annoying parents.  
  
Exiting her home, Serra couldn't help the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She hoped that her boy was safe and sound within the village.  
  
"Oh!! Look!! What do we have here?!" A harsh laugh followed by a rather dark glare. Erk looked up from his sleeping spot to see two bandits with swords near his saddlebags. His borrowed mount, Luna, pranced around, ready to kick if she was threatened. Her green horse eyes were wide when she began to neigh for his help.  
  
His hands went into the natural pattern he could do in his sleep, three thrown lights, then pentagram in the air with its silver-white light. A sudden burst of holy fire surrounded one of the bandits causing the other to look towards him.  
  
"Mitch?! What did you do to Mitch, you asshole?!" The bandit raged towards him. Mitch was now nothing more than a pile of putrid flesh and oozing death. He was deader than a doornail. The spell that Erk had cast was a rather complicated one, an actual experiment that had its first test right then.  
  
"You'll only die here." Erk's tight-lipped frown seemed to increase as he felt another's magical aura around. He could feel the intensity of the darkness and knew suddenly that a dark spell was being cast upon him. Easily side-stepping the intended spell with a mind shield, he dodged the axe that was thrown at him. The two desperados hadn't been alone at all.  
  
Even with his intense training and concentration, he felt as if there was someone else there that was at his side. Enough of the bandits had surrounded him, which he knew he would have to kill a few for an escape if he could manage so. After being raised by the magic general with his intense dodging and concentration training, Erk knew he could do it, it just wouldn't be that easy at all.  
  
He suddenly heard an intensified voice of a mage scream out towards the dark druid, he supposed. He saw that all of the bandits looked surprised, glancing towards the direction that a few bolts of lightening all connected into one and fried whatever the hell it had been directed to hit.  
  
Flashing purple hair, he readied himself with the memorized patterns of the elfire spell and shot it off towards a bandit. Watching after most of the bandits had fallen down, either by an elfire spell or a thunder spell, he could feel the bandits start to run away, the ones unscathed that is.  
  
When fighting off the last dredges of leftover meat bags, he saw a form within the distance. It was coming nearer to him, frantic to find somebody. Erk squinted as the figure came closer and closer till the cloak stopped short then cast a fire spell towards the remaining bandit.  
  
Smelling the burning flesh incinerate, the older man turned towards the figure that stopped before him. He could clearly see that the child was only somewhat trained as the child panted, sweating with his much well deserved concentration. The cloak the child wore was pretty ordinary for a traveler and yet it was as if it was only worn it was supposed to be.  
  
The hood from the cloak and the drapery of the cloak, kept the form's figure and face hidden quite easily. The being within the swathing mass could be guessed as about twelve years old and younger. He couldn't well place ages. That was something Serra could do.  
  
"Ar-Are you kind......ki-kind eno-en......enough to hel-help me, sir?!" The voice wasn't that impolite and seemed a little more boyish than he expected. Shrugging in thought, Erk concerned looked at the child. He pointed to the hood and the child nodded understandingly. Pulling down the hood, lavender waves flashed back towards him along with lavender-pinkish eyes.  
  
The child could pass as a younger version of him. He nearly felt a fainting spell take hold. He nearly felt his heart stop as he looked at the child. This one was innocent and his eyes were hazy from drawing upon too much of his innate ability of magic. Erk nodded to the child to see a smile brighten up on his face to find that the smile the child adorned seemed to look like the face belonged to Serra instead of his own.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Reka!! My mother is the Healer and the warrior of the village. She's supposed to be out here soon to take care of the bandits but I need help getting my four friends from them!! They were taken away by them yesterday." Erk nodded to the child. His darker amethyst eyes taking on a different hue as he wondered if this was his child.  
  
"What's your mother's name?"  
  
"I dun no. I just call her mom. Everyone else calls her healer." The child sat down bewildered at the older man. He hadn't ever met another magic user before except for his mother and Old Man Harlie. Pausing, he looked up towards the man. The man that was before him had long wavy hair the color of the dusky sky filling it as it spilled out of a ponytail. His tunic was a dark green along with his pants, while his cloak was a deep purple.  
  
This stranger was a mysterious one.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"I am Sage Erk of Etruia under the house of Ostia." He replied calmly, even if his heart was beating faster than all twenty heaters of hell combined. He calmly shook his head and stared at the child that had decided to sit down.  
  
"House Ostia? My mother said that here's a great lord that rules there who controls all of the Lycian League such as Caelin, Laus, Phaere, and..........Etruia, I think." The child's hand rose to his chin in deep thought. "I want to go all over there and meet all the lords. I think that would be fun. Mom says that I could do it after I turn twelve when I'll probably have to be sent to Etruia to become a mage apprentice."  
  
'So the child is younger than twelve,' He stored that piece of information in his mind then saw the child would be an extraordinary magic user. It was if the child had been born from two mage lines instead of one. The child looked slightly younger than ten now that he could see Reka's face.  
  
"I'm not sure if I'd be a good apprentice though. Would you take me on as an apprentice, Sage Erk?" Erk decided deep within his mind as he listened to the child, that this was definitely a child of Serra's livelihood.  
  
"You have excellent potential to become even a sage. You'd be well trained but if I were your lord sage, then you'd never get to go outside much." With this encouragement, Reka's face brightened up even more as he sat down to concentrate upon grounding his energy, drawing the anima magic from the ground as Old man Harlie had taught him in case he needed to draw upon extra magic.  
  
"Then why are you outside now?" Reka's head tilted in bewilderment as he finished his grounding technique. Turning towards the boy, Erk only shook his head. His face was unreadable to Reka. The mage child seemed to nod understandably even if the nod was fake.  
  
"I have to find a woman and her child then escort them back to Lord Uther and Lord Hector. "Erk didn't realize why he was telling this small child, Reka, this information. Maybe he was hoping that for some odd reason that Serra was here along with his child, and that maybe this child was his.  
  
'That's just wishful thinking, Erk, and you know it.' His mind coincided. Doubting his natural excitement, he watched Reka continue his unusual grounding technique. Unlike many of the magic users in Etruia, Reka grounded his energy through his hands and his feet while many just went to their feet.  
  
Pausing in thought, Erk returned his gaze to the forest and then to Reka. If they wanted to save the younger mage's friends then they had better start where they needed to go.  
  
"Do you know where the bandit camp is?" To this, Reka nodded his lavender lockes gravely. His small hands were clutching onto the scribe's shoulder purse that hung at his side. He was only a little frightened at the prospect of going back to the camp but he knew that the guard was small since they almost sent most of their fire power towards the village in where his mother was.  
  
"Y-yeah!!" He responded hesitantly. He certainly didn't wish to see the horrors the brigands had put upon his friends yet he knew that he had to go and save them, if not for their sake, then for the sake of his guilt.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
'Ikus!!' Reka's mind exclaimed as he saw the girl, particularly the only one he really liked besides Nyne, flayed across a pole. Her arms were tied by hemp rope, above her head, tied at the wrists. She had struggled as he could see. Dried blood caking her forearms, and her face was tearstained. 'So it is true.' He thought as he stared at the tears that hadn't left her face yet.  
  
'The brave fool can cry.....' He shook his head in shame. How could he be thinking that when he was supposed to get her and the three boys out. He looked over to the elder magic user and saw the signal. Opening his small tome, Reka recited the fire spell, remembering the exact swish of his hands for the small blaze he was setting.  
  
Startled only slightly, Ikus looked up at the bonds holding her hands as she felt them burn away, licking her skin with feverish kisses. She immediately retracted her bloody arms, rubbing the sore spots where the rope chafted her wrists. Erk recited the warp spell, waving the wand he held within his fingers. The staff in question was a light blue with a pair of feathers surrounding the green orb on the top.  
  
The orb floated out of the wings' hold upon it and shined brightly then faded and floated back within the grasp of the two wings. Ikus faded from sight at the pole and then reappeared back in the town, unknowingly to Erk and Reka.  
  
"Where's she?" Erk shrugged then glanced towards the wand. Reka felt himself groan in understanding. 'Great, I'm going to get killed, if not by these stupid bandits but by mom once she finds out that Ikus disappeared to maybe Nabata desert or Ostia or someplace else!!' He hung his head then went and concentrated upon getting the other kids.  
  
Ikus felt the upheaval of her stomach and allowed herself to throw up on the side of the porch. 'That was so weird,' She thought as she felt her hand come against the smooth wall of the town clock.  
  
Looking over to a few frantic people as they surrounded her, she could feel her mind go over the events slowly even as she heaved the rest of small amount of gruel they had given her. 'What the bloody hell did you do, stupid head?!?!?'  
  
Going back to the task at hand, Reka and Erk teleported the last of the children, when Reka heard his mother's angry screams as she hadn't found Reka at the village when she went to go fight the brigands. She only surmised, knowing her son and his headstrong qualities, that he had gone to save his friends.  
  
"We have to go!!!" Reka pulled on Erk's arm as he felt his mother's presence within their area. Erk nodded understandingly. He had come to the reasoning that Reka had done this without the knowledge of the healer. Taking Reka, the two trekked to the boy's home in hopes that his mother, an angry fighter, didn't see them.  
  
Upon reaching the quaint cottage, Erk felt his heart stop. 'This place........It's so beautiful.......One day...' The purple-haired sage placed a hand upon the weathered door as Reka walked in and immediately tried to put up all the tomes he had taken. His heart was warmer than ever and for once, he knew that this was home for him even if it was his first step into the small building.  
  
The radiating warmth was something almost new to him and as he watched the small child hurry up and put on some work clothes. He truly wondered if his doubt was well-placed. Reka pulled out a small rabbit from his scribe's purse, placing it upon the table with a hunting knife near it.  
  
"C'mon in!! Please stay for dinner. It'll be the least we can do to pay you back for helping me, Master Erk." The sage nodded, picking up his velvet-like robes off the floor. He sat at the table, watching the small boy fetch him some tea, warming the water quickly to serve.  
  
"I think I will st-"  
  
He stopped as he heard a wail and then the ripping of the door, nearly coming off the hinges. The insane strength of a worried mother, especially when the mother is the main fighter of the village, was aweing. Erk stood up surprised. Reka stood stiffly, head bowed down in shame.  
  
"REKA!!!! REKA PETEN!!!" She screamed at the top of her angry lungs, staring at her son. She rushed over in a flash of pale pink, body hugging her son very close to her. Tears nearly coming out of her eyes, but they never did. Her memory went back to her promise so she stayed her tears.  
  
Then she felt the presence. It was a strange presence, one she knew that she could never have felt again. This feeling emanating from it was warm much like summer, and comforting to her cold soul. The recesses of her mind recognized it and the wheels in her mind churned.  
  
Turning to the feeling's pinpointed place in her home, She felt her pinkish-lavender eyes widen in recognition. Her throat was thick with lost hope. She thought she would never see him ever again in her life.  
  
He stood there mesmerized by the beautiful sight from eight years before. His mind couldn't function as he stared, gaping at the she-demon. She was back in his life, and for some reason his heart wouldn't stop beating so fast.  
  
It took me forever to decide how they were going to react to each other. Then also it took another day or so to decide which lyrics I was going to use. But I got this chapter done and I'm happy. I may be doing a few one-shots with Erk and Serra along with Priscilla/Heath, and/or few others.  
  
I have been mainly typing on my laptop since I have bruised my bone and muscle from fighting for a weekend. Gawds, right now my life is sucking something horrible. I have to miss fighting today because of that damned leg. But for he weekend had an awful lot of fun so I suppose it kinda doesn't matter.  
  
Reka's middle Peten is actually from a fighter I fought with on the weekend. I thought it should be a close name to Pent since Lord Pent is considered to be Erk's guardian. If anything I think Serra would think of that when she would name him with a middle name. I toyed with Louise, but Peten's name came up in my mind and I couldn't help it.  
  
Please Read 'n' review!!!  
  
Hopefully my dividers are there this time. 


	5. Behind Our Walls

Drunken Lullaby ::An Erk and Serra Story::

Chapter: 4: Behind Our Walls

"_Arguing back and forth_

_Our anger is so hard_

_Even if we're really saying_

_Something so different_

_I missed you and know it._

_You missed me, godamnit._

_So just fall and admit it!!"_

_-'Behind Our Walls' Kuri_

The pink haired bishop didn't say anything. It was as if she was lost in time. Erk, her precious Erk, the mage who had met her as a bodyguard, was here. She openly gaped, barely feeling the movements of their son, her Reka, trying to shake himself from his mother's grasp.

His purple hair, now almost a dark royal majesty. Lay upon his shoulders, surrounding his astonished face. His eyes were almost a balck velvet, barely telling her that he too was surprised to see her with another emotion hidden behind the deep depths. His face so hauntingly familiar had matured along with his now tall body.

He had also been establishing a contrast with the Serra he had seen the last. Her hair was long, well-groomed as she was. The pink hue was paler than he could remember and almost regrettably he knew that it was his fault for it. When she had left, he had darkened into himself and she had faded away from herself. Her form was slender still, maybe a pound or two added onto her thighs from baby fat, but otherwise, she was still breathtaking, if he could really say that.

'Why, now?' Her mind questioned. She could feel the tears going to her eyes, but her bottom lip upon insistance had stopped the river ready to pour out. Her heart pounded, crashing and tearing its earthly ligaments attaching the forsaken organ to her body. Only he could make her feel like this......

'Serra.......' His mind was overjoyed yet sadly. He wanted to cry but buried it deep inside, feeling the anger from when she left the campaign return doubly. Serra's eyes, still with her childish dreams, seemed to be frozen into the older maturity she was capable to handle quite well.

"R-Reka, please.....Go see how your friends are coping in the village.......Don-Don't come back u-until I come get you, u-u-understand? If I don't come at nightfall go to the inn and sleep there for a favor......." Serra started out. Her voice melodic, trying to maintain the wavering stability that was the chaos in her mind.

"But, mom, why?"

"Reka, I told you to do something. I meant now. No questioning." She stood up from her son, handing him a few coins from her belt pouch, keeping her eyes on Erk. He was barely containing his anger at the woman who thought she could rule his heart with a mere twist of her finger, at the woman who was able to make him go crazy for her after all these years.

Reka, scared as his mother never once was coldly demanding of him. He nodded, taking the coins and his scribe's pouch, hurrying out the door. Once Serra was able to hear Reka's feet fade, she swallowed the next willing bout of tears. A small lump of darkened coal settling in her throat. Oh, how she missed the man standing in front of her and yet how she dreaded it.

"H-Hello, E-E-Erk...." She could feel the immenient feeling of his hand coming out to strike her down. Her heart constricted in fear, her eyes looking down finding her brown homemade shoes glare back at her spitefully. It wasn't until she felt the rough brush of his brown leather gloves, did she look up. Her eyes wide in fright, though the cool soft glove seemed to soothe her ruffled feathers.

A small tear fell down his almost vamipiricly pale cheek from an amethyst eye. His body moved forward of its own accord till it was right in front of her. His other hand smoothed over her pink hair. Serra nearly felt her resolve falter. She was near him. She was near him after all this time!! Her mind would not be quiet about that fact. His cold forehead made contact with hers, and she could feel his soft purple lockes whisk around her face as he shook his head as if in pain.

"Why?"

"What?"

"You heard me.........why did you keep Reka a secret?!" Tears were falling down his face in comaparison to the almost surprised cold face of Serra's. She didn't move. Her mouth opened to speak the words and yet she couldn't at all. Her heart was wrapped in hot iron bands, swords piercing her flesh along with the magic of a thousand fire tomes burning through it.

"I....."

He raised her eyes to meet his with his firm brown leather glove. She was still afraid. Her hands were wringing her skirt into a tight fist. Why did he have to still have his handsome features? Why did he still have to be Erk?!

"I......."

"I'm waiting for an answer, Serra." Her hesitantance spoke much to Erk as he felt the tears ready to pour out, even if he was uncomfortably calm towards the situation. His voice though betrayed the warm anger brewing inside of him. His harsh tone nearly made the coldness spike through her pink flesh. She knew that he would've found out one day. Erk was a man who would try to get what he wanted.

"I.....I was....."

She had mumbled something nearly incoherent to the finely tuned ears of Erk. His eyes bore through her.

"What was that?" His narrowed eyes seemed untrusting to her, grasping the merest comprehension to her. His hand still soft upon her chin.

"afraid......."

"What would make you think that?" His voice was in wonder as the emotion of slight irony dawned upon him. Of course she would think that. More than once he had told her, even if it wasn't blantently that he had hated her simply because she annoyed him somewhat but that really wasn't it.

"You told me........."

"Told you?"

"More than once, you hated me!! How could you expect me to tell you that the person you hated the most is having your child?! You'd have wanted my child killed at the thought!!!" Serra felt the tears fall.

"Take back those words." The warm man she knew that was inside his heart froze again. His eyes were darkened by his hair as she could barely make out his finely defined nose.

"Why? It's the truth." She was confused and frightened. She had never seen Erk in real anger, frustration, annoyance, and tolerance maybe, but not ever angry.

"Take them back."

"No." Without even thinking her mouth answered instead of her mind. 'Open mouth insert foot.' She thought as she cringed in her thoughts. Her answer was defiant much like she was but then again she was ashamed.

"I WOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN THAT CRUEL!!!" His warm voice rose, anger clearly seen upon his face. This was the true Erk. This was the Erk that had died when he had read that letter. This was his anger. His grip upon her head and chin tightened visibly but still hadn't begun to hurt her at all. Tears rolled down from his eyes. He had tried to be strong. He had tried to hide it all away. But she was the key to unlock his heart, unlock his soul from the darkness.

"........." This made her think. Did she overreact when she had determined that she was to have his child? Did she lose herself in her moment of shock? His leather gloves softened their grip upon her. Her eyes showed such hurt as they looked down. His own eyes reflected hers and for a moment, as he felt a swarm of bees buzz in his stomache and his heart stop, he knew what he wanted to ask most but he couldn't bring himself to it.

"....He's.......a bright boy......" He finally decided to say. Instead of the words that rushed out of his mouth. He changed the topic after all, even if he was angry enough to nearly KILL her, he would never do it. Even though he had just met his son, Reka, Erk felt as if he had known him his entire lifespan, which wasn't exactly right considering they had no such thing as a time machine sorta spell.

"He takes after his father." She commented, her face still covered in tears and her voice barely sounding as strong as she wish she was inside. Her disregard for this day was extreme. She had never been prepared for one, and two, all she knew was that Erk was not going to forgive her so easily.

"Don't flatter me with such compliments." He snarled somewhat, his tears seeming to dry from his choked face. Biting back, her soft lips seemed to quiver as she watched her son's strong father. His hidden reserve of strength had been always shining through her son, and she had a faint idea that the child had saved the village children with the help of his father, unknowingly.

"It's the truth." She uttered darkly unto his ears. He felt his eyes dilate but then go back to their darkened age. He didn't believe that the child's strength came from him. Reka was more or less strong because of his mother, and also he was strong because of his optomism. He wondered suddenly if his son was ever sad.

"Was he always so happy?"

"Yes, but he is missing something he needs." Serra had noticed lately that Reka was much more quieter, more controlled of his emotions than he used to be. He was growing up a little from his friends. Reka had always been more controlled of himself than most of the villangers but he often let his self-control go whenever he was near his mother, but now, he was looking for something either in him or in his enviroment with a distant look always upon his face.

"I see......"

"Yeah......" A statement that was to continue their already dying conversation. She knew that if it continued then he wouldn't yell at her. He wouldn't accuse her and bring her regrets back upon her. She disliked the feelings that he brought up in her, however, she wanted them to be brought. Even this temporary friendliness only boldened what she had once come across before though it was cold and dying, a slow smoldering ember in the fire pit of her heart.

"Please take those words back.........."

"I...........can't........That's how I felt when I deserted the campaign........" She was telling the truth from the bottom of her heart. The pain flowed unevenly back into her and the hot iron clad bands were there, tightening, twisting the dark cells of her blood. She felt her knees grow weak, but started upon her centering technique. The technique calmed her, drawing strength from her mana to her knees, reinforcing them magically.

"Do you wonder what would've happened had you stayed?" He asked the third greatest question in his mind. He had many, but this one was one he had wondered about for eight years. He found himself often on his travels or campaigns on his alone time thinking what it would be like to play with his child or have Serra's soft and slim body close. Sometimes, even if he didn't want it, the images of Serra often changed into something that he'd have to borrow some alone time for.

"Often, but they're just mere whimsical dreams........." It was true that she had thought her dreams of all of them being together with Reka when she had left were nothing but dreams. Though sometimes she did find herself in a fix when she remembered how Erk played up to being such a man. Of course, that was a healer's secret and no one had a right to know.

"Yeah........."

"Do you?" She responded with the same question. In all, she had a burning curiousity that wouldn't sit still until she knew. Smoothing down some of her pink hair, Erk wondered if he could tell her the truth. She had told him the truth but only after she ran away, only after she had caused him so much pain.

"Yes........I wanted to understand the Serra that hid from me." He finally decided with his answer. The soft-spoken words seemed to confuse her even more than they should have. Why did he want to know the totally bold playful, yet serious woman she was.

"I see.........." She really didn't understand. He hadn't said he hated her yet, nor did he say he didn't. Her head was beginning to ache from the deep pang of lonliness she had tried not to show to him. Her fingers rose up to clasp his arms. Soft, tanned fingers wrapped themselves around his strong limbs, he pressure applied light as a feather and the gentle caress indicated something strong that welled up in the two adults.

"Do you hate me, Serra?" The question hurt her. How could she hate the one she loved? Sure she had often had murderous thoughts when it came to her delivery of Reka and once in awhile when Reka would get too uptight, but that was it. She knew that deep in her heart, which now was seeming to break, she would love him, but maybe not as she once did.

"No." Her answer was cold, voicing the lonliness she wished she had been without. It was the crystal clear sound of pity upon herself.

"I see........" He looked down, a calm countenance filtering through her vision, a small frown still wrought upon such succulent lips. Her mind kept repeating to the night where he held her, kissed her, made her his, while her body remembered the actions quite well. It was her first time because of the order's oaths but she had clearly been taken away at the first receptive kiss from those same lips.

"........" She didn't allow herself to reply, finding herself in quite a predicament as she reprimanded her body for even suggesting that her mind do anything untoward her dear friend. Of course, when does anyone's bodies reply to the mind saying they would do as the mind suggested? His tentative grasp upon her chin and head began to leave as he pulled off the leather gloves, smooth white fingers appearing out of the sheathing leather.

Drawing her close, Erk didn't know exactly what he was doing though he knew that he wanted to make sure that she wasn't as sorrowful as her tears had assumed of her. His slightly smoothed fingers, milky as a ghost's, slipped behind her head, playing with a few strands of her sliky hair in each.

Somehow, Serra's body could talk to its mind and blantedly told it to fuck off.

The warm inn was beginning to feel slightly drafty since the Inn Mistress, Jun had gone to bed, Reka situated on an inn comfortable armchair. Gin smiled as he handed his friend a small hot soup, beef broth clearly pungent as well as the smell of rosemary and dill. His soft-spoken friend twirled a red strand of hair behind his ear so to keep it from his dark eyes.

"So that's what happened?" Gin had listened to his friend's grand adventure from the previous night and afternoon. He had to admit that it did fill in some holes on how their four friends had suddenly appeared in the village. He could remember the look on his mother's face when Ikus suddenly appeared next to the inn.

"Yup. Master Erk is here to see a woman and her child, and I think he means me and mom. I mean, how many women here with kids live without husbands?" Reka had his theory on who exactly Sage Erk had been looking for. His mother had been the only one from what Klaja had told him to have arrived in the village and live there. No one else had since the start of the village. His mother never discussed her life before he was born and he didn't exactly ever ask her to. He had only once asked her about his grandmother since all the other kids in the village had one.

"Ah.......So what are going to do if you have to go to Ostia?" His friend pulled him out of his reverie. Gin smiled drinking out of a small mug with cold water in it. Reka smiled back gently. He really had no idea but his mother, knowing her, would protest.

"Well, it matters what I'm going to do there and if mom'll go."

"That's true. I can see the priceless look on the Healer's face if you got dragged off by some man she was scared of." The way Reka had described the man and the Healer's interaction with him was what he considered frightening. After all, th only time the Healer would send Reka to the village when there was a person at her house was when she was frightened for him.

"I don't think she was scared of him really. I think she was more or less.......unprepared to see him." Reka had seen some sort of warm recognition in his mother's eyes, and warmth hidden behind shock in the sage's eyes. He knew that they had shared a past together yet, he didn't realize what it was they shared.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Mom is only scared of squirrels and spiders and we both know that." With this, Reka began drinking some of his warm soup, trying hard not to remember the scenes his mother often went through when she saw either.

"The Healer's frightened of a furry rat and eight-legged freaks?!" At this, Gin who was normally very smart at keeping his mouth closed, laughed his head off. Gin hadn't known that the normal things most of the kids in the village played with were what the Healer was afraid of!!

"Yeah. She just hates to deal with squirrels. She got me convinced that St. Elimine created squirrels to scare women and spiders were there for torture. That was when I was about a few years old though. Don't believe in it anymore." Reka felt a grin fall upon his lips, a few chuckles escaping his mouth. It was a silly phobia his mom had about squirrels.

"So, what if Master Erk wants to take you as his squire or whatever sages do with mage kids?" Gin seemed to suddenly become serious from his laughing fit. He was worried for Reka. This man was apparently a very nice person and yet if Reka left the village everyone would be out of a friend and a healer. He hoped that Reka wouldn't have to leave.

"I want to go. It's just I don't think mom would go for coming out of the village. She won't even allow me to go to the Midsummer festival down in Galesberi, which is only seven leagues from here. So think of us actually going to Ostia. Nuh-huh. No way, she's going to think about that." Reka winced visibly at thinking of when he had snuck off to Galesberi with Jun, Ikus, Thom, Miles, Gin, and Nyne. His mother had raised hell when he got back. Her anger was nearly something he never wanted to deal with ever again, though he did it time and time again.

"Yeah, I remember when you asked to go to Galesberi. It felt like you asking if you could be the Anti-Elimine. She nearly chained you up when she found out you went with us." Gin winced as well. The Healer's harsh words came only after she hugged her son and smiled in a carefree dangerous sort of way. The next time any of the villagers had gotten sick, she had supposedly 'lost' all the herbs in an uncontrolled fire from Reka's training.

"Well, I think mom's not going to be coming for awhile." Looking up to the water clock, Reka noticed that he had been at the inn for nearly four hours already. Remembering something Ikus told him, he shrugged his shoulders in thought.

"Why's that?" Gin was sometimes too curious for words to describe.

"Well, you remember what Ikus and Thom said right?" Gin had been there for the whole conversation about men and women staying somewhere.

"Not really. What'd they say?" With a shake of his red hair, Gin stared intently at his friend with red eyes.

"well, they said if your mom doesn't come to get you within three hours and she has a man at the house then they're having an all-night argument."

"Really?"

"Yeah, so I suppose mom will come tomorrow, tired and everything since she's having an all-night argrument."

"Hopefully, she'll sleep during the day so you can come to the village and play."

"Yeah, Can you imagine staying up all night?"

"Nope. Imagine what their voices might sound like in the morning."

"Mom will sound like she'll have a cold. Well, that's nothing to a few drops of mint."

"I hope your mom never gets as angry as Ikus's mom and Thom's dad do when they're in the same house together."

"I hope after my coming of age ceremony that she never decides to get angry enough to have an all-night argument with me. I think I'd die because of lack of sleep."

"Yeah."

"Well, let's go to bed since my mom went."

I love Reka!!! He's so innocent!! That last part of the fic was really funny to me as I typed it. sighs Maybe one day Erk and I will have our own all-night argument.

Erk: In your dreams.

That's where I plan to have them baby unless I can get a guy I know to cosplay you. Teehee!!!

Serra: Loki, here's a small keyword for you when you look at Erky. MINE.

Xx I know, I know.....Anyway, I have no idea on how to get Serra to go to Ostia with Erk. This is chapter is not a night of unrestrained passion but just something for all of you Serra x Erk people. I had to put in some small thing for you lucky people. All your reviews have been very uplifting to me, so I have been trying to type this up to keep you guys happy.

A kind of warning to everyone. I will NOT be updating Drunken Lullaby for at least two weeks. Why? Because I am going to American Falls in two days to go and get my ass kicked for a week from foam-fighting at Chaos Wars. (more info go to ) well, anyway, that and I might just be alittle too tired to type anything from everything right afterwards, also I have a new job to paint my neighbor's jumping horse thingy posts and the Ren faire. So it may take nearly a month to update this fic if I concentrate on it heavily in my free time.

Lastly? My Priscilla and Heath one-shot will not be done for a few weeks along with my other one-shot.

Anyway, I gotta go. So loves to alls!! AND PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!


	6. Gunning Down Romance

Drunken Lullaby ::An Erk and Serra story::

Chapter 5: Gunning Down Romance

_"I'm gunning down romance_

_It never did a thing for me_

_But heartache and misery_

_Ain't nothing but a tragedy_

_Love, Don't leave me." _

_-Savage Garden "Gunning Down Romance_

LLLLLLLLLLLLL

She could only feel the soft supple skin of her mage and yet, she knew this was wrong. It had only been a split second after she had given into his kiss, but she knew she wasn't ready for this. After all this hurt and anger he brought up, he dared to try to override her best interest.

'So what if I missed this?' She paused in her thoughts, pushing the mage away. 'No!! I.....I can't........Not to Reka...not to Erk.........' She watched his eyes as if they burned her very soul into the depths of hell. She remembered why she hadn't professed her love to Erk openly. She didn't want to be hurt in case he rejected her.

His body didn't reject her, but his mind was disgusted with her. She couldn't tell exactly because she was confused. Pushing the arms she had been held with, the same ones she dreamed of every night and wished were around her every morning, Serra felt her mind spinning in disarray. Black dots dancing upon her vision when she felt so nervous clouded her sight. Her stomach was ready for an upheaval and she wouldn't willingly give in. She was too stubborn to look weak in front of Reka's strong father.

Her mind was racing as he was staring at her in question. Erk's mind was pondering her actions, as his body seemed to question his mind why he would hate this thing of beauty? After all, her only problem had been her personality in a whole; but then again, he still wanted it back. Yet this new mysterious Serra also intrigued his fascination. He wanted to know both sides of the darkened coin of the two-sided woman.

She had always been in his thoughts, albeit in the back of them, but still in them nonetheless. His memory of despairing over whether or not there was a place quiet enough that Serra possibly wasn't nearby and he nearly chuckled at himself. Eight years ago, he had been a fool. The same could be said true of the moment. He was a lovesick fool who had found the woman who sired his child and he had kissed her without saying anything about him liking her or anything that she searched for truthfully.

But his exact feelings couldn't exactly be placed. He had never experienced loving another woman for being herself. He had gratitude for Serra raising his child but he felt so many things when he had talked to her and then again when he had kissed her. It felt like his soul was on fire with the licks of a thousand tear-stained suns. A near paradox and yet, it was the only he could describe the luscious touch he had stolen from her lips.

'I better quit that poetic description or else I'll be turning into Sain. What else am I going to think next? That I want to be a paladin mage?' His comical thoughts betrayed his true emotions. Cynical whenever stress got to him mostly, his fingers grasped the ends of mantle in order to calm his shaking hands, concerned whether or not if he should go away for the moment, when both adults had time to think over. His amethyst eyes took in the figure before them and nearly felt a droplet of pure sorrow fall down his cheek. He had tormented the bishop in front of him nearly enough to make him want to take whatever she threw at him, pain and all.

"I........I can't......" She finally muttered between the unjustifiable silence that her high-pitched voice cut through easily. He didn't question her motives, but then again, he was too busy questioning his. Her tender voice seemed ashamed of herself as she walked over to the table, sat down on the wooden stool and looked up at Erk. Her pinkish-hued eyes taking him in more slowly than before.

She licked her lips and shook her head. It was too much. She couldn't be with Erk. She couldn't just have this man come into her life now, waltzing in with her into Reka's life also. She just simply couldn't do this to her son.

She was afraid. What if she left Erk AND Reka because she couldn't cope with the idea of settling down with Reka's father in the picture now?! His bright face would remain upon his beautiful countenance but he wouldn't understand until he was older and more able to comprehend his mother's reasons and her actions. Serra knew deep down that she was hypocrite to herself and her hopeless dreams that she dreamt every night.

Scorning herself once more for her stupidity, she wrapped her hand around the staff she had in her belt, pulling it out. The smooth alabaster reflected against the firelight in the fireplace. A crescent showing that it was a mend, with a jewel that bedazzled the crescent. When Serra had accomplished understanding the mend staff's spell, under Priscilla Cornwall, she immediately had one on her at all times along with a healing stave. She took comfort and strength when she was devoid of it from St. Elimine's gifts such as the tomes of divine magic and the rods of healing.

Practically wishing she knew how to face the man in front of her, she calmed her hysteric nerves as best as she could, though her fingers that grasped the smooth stave, wanted to grasp the mantle that the bemused and slightly ashamed mage held upon his warm body. Her eyes darkened as she asked herself a pondering question although her mind could not seem to facilitate an answer.

Would she ever be ready to face a life with Erk?

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Reka got up after finishing his cup of warmed juice and his soup when Gin heard the knock from the door. Going to look over to Reka, Gin got up, gingerly placing his own warmed cider on the wooden table, then went to the peep hole. He saw the tale-tell pick hair before he heard the soft command of the Healer's voice. The Healer had acted strange and was now acting even stranger. She certainly must've had some words for the sage that Reka had told him about.

No one in Lycia or even the St. Elimine-given Earth could up stand to one of the horrendous tongue-lashings she seemed to prepare when a child did any wrong to her or the village. She didn't argue a lot with Klaja or Brigitte, but that was because they had easily been her benefactors when she had needed the most help.

"Get Reka." He nodded, opening the door to her although she didn't make an effort to enter into the warmed inn. She merely acknowledged the red-haired boy's effort with a nod then looked towards her son, the ever-contemplating joyous Reka. Looking towards the door, Reka felt the eyes of his mother and could almost swear to feel the chaos that his mother radiated. He loved her and didn't want her to cry. He never did.

"I'm coming, mom." He told her, picking his things up from the floor around him then put on his boots and cloak, sliding his scribe's purse on top. The leather purse was in great contrast to the grey woolen traveler's cloak. He didn't know why but it seemed as if his mother was afraid to go to him or even to talk. She seemed as if she would break in two almost.

Glancing to the innkeeper's son, Reka smiled and hugged his friend goodbye. Once he approached his mother, he knew that she was highly distressed as if she couldn't say what exactly her argument with the sage master, Erk was. Her eyes were puffy, red from tears that had been shed. Reka immediately frowned at his mother; He didn't like the fact that she had broken her promise to him. Well, maybe not so much from their promise but one from herself.

The sage had a tongue like a mongoose then, easily snatching up his mother's viperous tongue and dissolving the hard bladed poison from it. This was a man not easily dealt with, especially if it was from the tongue-lashing and spell-casting mouth of his mother's. She briefly seemed to smile; happy to see him yet she knew that he had to go back to see Erk.

After all, she had to go and find some place to be. She couldn't think with Erk being so near. Her barriers were starting to crumble the ice around her heart melting. She simply couldn't do it. She needed some time by herself still so she could sort out what she was going to do.

Besides Erk had made a simple request, well a few actually and she could indulge one or two of them while she thought about the rest. She had subtly agreed in a small way and found that she could not do him any injustice in allowing some of them while she pondered others.

Walking from the village with her son in two, Serra couldn't quite place herself along with her feelings. She wasn't able to. How was she supposed to completely make up her mind about some of the requests when she wasn't even sure if she could do them!! Sighing, she took out a mend staff, twirling the featherweight bone stave between her slim but strong fingers.

"Reka?" They were nearby the cottage now. She turned around, stopping in the middle of their pathway. The night breeze picking up the ends of his mother's hair and sifting through them as if they were grains of sand falling between a squeezed fist to join their brethren back on the ground. Her countenance showed seriousness, he barely believed her to have, considering his mother been rather spontaneous and always happy, more carefree than serious.

"Yes?" His voice was terse with confusion. Why was his mother stopping even before they got home? She seemed to ponder for a few seconds more, wondering if he had remembered whom she was going to tell him about.

"Do you remember when a rather weary traveler came to our house when you were five?" She could remember coming across the man, worn down to the bone from pneumonia and hunger. He had been nearly killed from underestimating the winter weather in Laos even if it was close to Ostian winters within temperature but not ferocity.

"Yes," The ever-attentive boy knew exactly she was talking about. "His name was Legault, right?" He questioned his memory only slightly. He could barely remember the sick man lying down on his and his mother's bed near the fire. The sick man, when awake, told him stories of the Lycian League and many adventures about men from bardic songs.

"Yes. Legault was one of your mom's comrades when she fought in the Lycian League." She had said it so calmly!!! Reka felt as if he was going to die from astonishment!! HIS mom, HIS mother was part of the heroic league of nobles that had gone against the dark evil man, Nimrod or something; he never liked the weird evil man in the story so he never thought to remember the old man's name.

He could remember that apparently that from the stories that Legault had told him, he had married the tactician, Seras, whom was currently in Bern as Prince Zephiel's advisor for a short while. So he had been heading that way when he got caught in the winter weather and got ill.

"You were in the Lycian league?!" He finally found his tongue in his amazed mind. His eyes shone from the strength knowing that his mother, HIS mom, had gone up against all the evil men that the Lycian league had been against, although she probably wasn't on the battlefield, he thought darkly. His visage considerably fell as he thought that.

Noticing, Serra knew she couldn't allow her son to think she had too much to do with them, but she couldn't lie to him that she was just a cleric in the healing tent, after all, Erk just might tell Reka some stories from the Lycian League, such as the time when Sain tried to get a love letter to Rebecca and it turned into a weird thing that everyone else thought the love letter was directed to them instead. 'Poor Sain!!' Serra quickly thought to herself. She could remember everyone having a hard time figuring out if the letter was to them or not. Sain had forgotten to write it to Rebecca and whom it was from.

"Yes........I was a bishop within my order before things got bad there. I personally knew the Lycian lords and helped serve them. Anyway, Master Sage Erk is a good friend of mine who was there in the Lycian League also. He's a very close person to me, Reka." She knew she downplayed her involvment with the Lycian League, but she supposed when Reka would be older, he'd understand much better. His face picked up but not with as much excitement as before.

"Okay." He nodded understanding his mother's downplay of her abilities and involvement of the Lycian League era. Anyone who had been associated with the Lycian lords were of course an important part of the league. He didn't give anything away from his facial expressions though deep inside he was writhing in excitement. Maybe Erk could give him a few details his mother wouldn't!!

"I'll have to leave soon. Since it is fall, our herbs will be ripe for harvesting soon and so will the ones in the highlands. I'll need you to stay here with Erk to harvest them and to learn more from him than I can teach you. I'll have to go to the highlands tonight since the herbs need to be picked very soon because a flue epidemic is more than likely to occur. You know that those herbs are the only ones that can ease the flu here." Serra looked up, thoughtfully. It was the excuse she had come up for since it was true that she did need to go to the highlands to harvest the ones she could there.

"I see, mama." Reka nodded once more, taking in the underlying order of picking the herbs in the garden and checking upon their vegetable garden. His hands wouldn't have time to practice the arcane magic he knew. Ever since he had been able to set off his first small flame, Reka practiced as hard as ever when he got the time to practice. His mother had mentioned that he had her as a good teacher since she could remember the exact way he had to move his hands and everything since she had a really great memory.

"That's a good Reka. Once I get back, some things may change. Maybe for the better or maybe for the worse. I really don't know, Reka, but some things will change." Her tone was omnious and frightening as if she was a prophetess telling him his future depended on some decision he was about to make. Her eyes darkened as she looked upon her son. It would soon be time.

"Yes." With a defiant smile on his face, Reka faced her well against the gravity of her words. His chin was up and his light amethyst eyes darkened with the fire of his spirit being bridled beneath. A grin came across Serra's features as she watched her son's eyes flicker with his spirit.

"So strong, my little Reka. You are really growing up Reka. You show such resiliency much like your father does." He was strong like his father, Serra had to concede that. Both of the mages in her life dealt with a hand wrongly dealt with them though sometimes she knew that Reka had been better off than Erk was when they were his age.

"Will you ever be able to tell me about him, mama?"She could feel her mask slitting in half merely because of her son's question. Her heart pounded as she thought what she could tell him now at the tender age of seven. She knew that he would not understand much but maybe again, he would. Reka was much more easily grown up than she ever could be at times which frightened her. So unknowingly he was like a copy of his sire.

"You'll know soon enough. How about when we got to either Etruia or Ostia for your mage apprenticeship? You'll be around twelve then, and I'm sure you'll be able to understand everything, if not earlier." She settled upon her answer, promising not only to him silently but to herself also that she would tell her son about the predicament and everything that he had been born from.

"I'm really going?!" His whole face brightened with the beacon of hopeful euphoria. Serra watched his hopefulness and finally decided concede. She wasn't supposed to play with him. She had to go and harvest the herbs in the highlands and also to mull over a few suggestions.

"Yes, you are!! Why wouldn't you be?! You're a strong young mage in your own right, Reka. I don't see why I wouldn't allow it. You might even get a sage to teach you!!" She gave her son the best smile she could manage,. Looking as cheesy as a ready to melt provolone slice of heaven.

"A sage?!" His face brightened to resemble something of a bright torch in the pale nightlife around him. Yes, she'd have to definitely tell him soon. Pausing in her thoughts, Serra contemplated watching both father and son and completely forgetting about the herbs but she knew she couldn't.

"Yes, a sage. But that will have to wait. Now I'm going to the stables to get on my way. I love you Reka." She'd already knew she had spent too much time with her little boy and by the way that Erk was watching her from the doorway, she knew she had to leave before her body's impulses took over again.

"I love you, mommy." Her son's sweet voice began to spread a sense of serenity through out her body. She was often amazed at how he could easily calm her by those three words that Erk could never or actually would never say. She wouldn't doubt it after their past lives with each other.

"If I'm not back within a week or so, then go with Erk to the way station to the highlands. I'll either be there, waylaid with difficulties, or if I'm not there within a week of the two of you getting there then, go with Erk. He will take care of you." She went through the same procedure she always did when she went off to the highlands or any of the other places where she would be gone for awhile, except this time she told him to stay with Erk instead of Jun or the old mage.

"Okay mama. Hopefully you'll have a good journey. St. Elimine watch over you and bless you!!" He smiled and hugged his mother, kissing her blushing cheeks as she did the same to him. Her precious child was going to be gone from her soon. She walked over into the stables and rose up in her saddle upon her horse. Coming out, she stopped for a moment to where Reka waited for her.

"You too. Love you my precious Reka." She looked down, smiling to her son then spurred her horse into a gallop. She wanted to make the half-way point by tomorrow morning. It was then she could truly rest until she went to the mountains and came back. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to deal with bandits.

"...........Your mom........She really is special." He stood in the doorway as Reka approached watching the traveling horse and its maiden ride away to the dangerous highlands. She had told Erk that he may have at least a week with he-their son. Erk couldn't seem to get off his mind the angel-demon thing that he had found once more. His heart was still cold but now it seemed as if the lonliness he once felt was gone away.

"You think so, Master Erk?" Reka motioned to him with a wave of his hand. Smiling seeing as he got to be with a sage from the Lycian League no less for a week. Suddenly, picking up a gentle air from this sage, the boy's smile turned eager expressing his gratitude, even if he still watched his mother go.

"Yes. Come inside please. I wouldn't want my...friend's son to get pneumonia while she went away." Erk was right in that retrospect. He almost was going to say his son but then he remembered that Reka wasn't going to be allowed to know. Serra had made it very strictly placed. She would be the one to tell Reka when she thought he was old enough. Of course, though, he wouldn't want to even try to tell his son that. He barely knew the boy and yet he couldn't help as they both walked back into the warm cottage, closing the wooden oak door, that he did love his child.

"Master Erk?" He looked back towards the child, worn almost by a thin string of longing. He would have never once thought that he would have a child in his late twenties. Now that he watched the curious mage, he could only smile deep down at the love that he felt for this being though it was hard to try and make a connection it seemed.

Yes?" He replied solemnly, not allowing his longing to hold the child to his chest, pressing the folds of his tunic till they were neat, or combing his hair back with a fatherly hand. Those were things his father had done for him when he was but six, before he lost both his parents and got sent to the orphanage and then eventually to the ex-Magic General Lord Pent.

"Did you know my dad?" Erk almost lost it all as he tried breathing. 'Why in all of the hells is he so inquisitive?! Probably because he's Serra's and my son. That explains a lot, doofus.' Okay, so his brain wasn't exactly on the average for good information in the game, but then again lying through his teeth was like trying to hit a homer on a ground ball.

"Wha-what?!" Deep down, he was panicking like some fire ant had just bit its poison into his ass. The child who watched him from underneath purple bangs became easily amused with the sage's ever changing purple eyes. They showed confusion and guilt and also a bit of something he often say in his mother's eyes. Secretly, Erk pleaded to St. Elimine, then continued to curse Serra and her law. _'I really don't like you right now, Serra.' _

"My dad. Did you know him?" It was the moment of truth. Could he lie to his son? Many parents had to often find the answer to many questions such as 'Where do babies come from?' or his all time least favorite, 'What's sex?' And like many parents before, he searched for Serra rapidly for a moment, then came up with a half-truth. He just hoped one day that he wouldn't have to explain what was sex or where the hell babies come from, because in all honesty, he barely had an idea.

"Umm.......Yes.....I know him quite well...Let's not try to get information out of me that your mother should tell you." Quickly, looking away from that pair of eyes much like his own, purple, mysterious and regal, he changed his direction to the wall as he spoke the wall, ashamed to his ears that he was lying to his child in a way, although in retrospective, Erk did know himself quite well.

"All right." Reka had noticed Erk's side glance to the rather uninteresting wall. He knew that it had been only a few seconds since he had questioned twice. Shrugging away the look to the rather boring piece of wood, Reka sat down at the table, bored.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Erk was starting to run out of questions as he knew that the inevitable moment and question was on both their minds would approach. Would they share a bed like mother and son or not? He hoped for the former, personally, but knew that he would more than likely count on the latter. Pausing the mage looked down towards the two soup bowls that had been left out. One had been washed out by the diligent hand washing of the ex-cleric.

"I had some warmed soup." The boy nodded to help confirm his ideas about the sage. Master Erk seemed to be as if he was around a bandit that had taken every spell that he ever memorized but then again, he probably wasn't used to kids. The man looked as if he was probably in his mid-twenties much like Kardis the baker's daughter that was getting married over in Glastinbury.

"Are you still hungry?" Erk walked over to the pot of stew that he had made for himself and Serra and then to the two bowls. He hoped that Reka wasn't as picky as he was as a kid. He could remember that once he was able to choose what he wished to eat, he was pickier than a cat almost. Serra had remarked on his habits when they had traveled together, forcing him to lose it not only because of her but just the fact that Sain and Lucius couldn't cook.

"A bit." Reka's stomach grumbled lowly as if it was indeed the hungriest pit in the world waiting for its next human victim that would stumble and fall into its dark abyss. The stew did look appetizing. Erk nodded to himself, serving the rest of the meaty sauce into the waiting bowl that Serra had.

"That's good. I may not be that skilled in cooking taste, but I made some warm stew for us both to eat." It was true in all of his memories. Sain was the worst cook on the earth unless it had something to do with chocolates, then he could rock the world with his almost irresistable chocolates. It was one of the main reasons Fiora had even considered him as boyfriend material.

"Did mom eat some?" Upon placing a wooden spoon down for the boy along with the bowl filled with warm food, Reka almost dug in except for the thought of his mother going out to the highlands with nothing sustaining her body. She had done it once and had worried him heavily when Jun and him had to travel down to the half-way station because she had pushed herself too hard that she caught a cold on her way back.

"Yes. She did." Relieved, Reka proceeded gobbling up the contents within the bowl. The meat tasted much like rosemary had been sprinkled on them along with a bit of mint to spike the taste. The carrots had been cooked to the point that they were not completely soggy nor exactly as crisp as they were when they were raw. Then the potatoes were buttered and slightly tinged with black to increase the taste of the onion upon the seasoned cutlets. All in all the meal wasn't too awful, only one meal maker was above this one and that was his mother.

"Why did you come to see mom?" Finished, he asked the question that had been undeniably upon his mind for most of the night. Placing the bowl and spoon in the sink, rinsing them with some of the water in the pail, he rose up, approaching the seating sage. Settling upon the high-ranked sorcerer, Reka felt the sense of loss and longing rising up within the man.

".........I had to....." As soon as the words were mumbled out, Reka understood that the man looked a lot older, older than perhaps Bridgette, the brittle old biddy of the world, who had taken her apprentice from the village children. Erk's purple hair seemed to shroud his face into self-doubt and discrimination against himself as if he were defeated to the reasoning.

"Okay." Reka wanted that look to go away. He wouldn't want to see a horrible defacing coming to the man or as horrid as a gesture it seemed to make. The sage, noticing the depressing mood upon the room decided finally to brighten up.

"Do you want me to tell you a story?" He grinned, noticing that the boy still bore resemblence of his fighting from the bandits. His skin still darkened to his slight cuts and nicks from axes and swords that barely touched him. Erk realized with a rather acute scrutiny from his obsessive cleanliness in a student, that the boy not only looked as if he rolled into a thorn bush, but also had the stench of sweat rising around him.

"Yes!! Can you tell me one about the Lycian League?! Please!!!!" His excitement was overly convincing for Erk to almost let the child get away without a bath but if they were to share the same bed, he was not going to have a skunk's absent cousin's daughter's father's brother's uncle twice removed to be sleeping next to him.

"Yes, of course only after you get a bath." He noticed the fall within the child's exhuberance. Erk could remember when he thought all bathtubs were evil and swallowed little children up for pleasure. It wasn't completely his fault that his friends from the orphanage had encouraged that behavior and until he met Pent, he thought that going for ten days without a bath was acceptable.

"Awww...Can we just say I bathed?" But it certainly was a broken habit and he could understand why Pent had discouraged the habit rather forcefully. Even as tactful as Lord Pent normally was, he had thrown Erk into the bathtub and had seven house guards and a maid stay in the bathroom and not to allow him out till he was clean every morning and every evening for the two daily family meals.

"No." Stern as he could remember Lord Pent being, he crossed his arms across his chest looking like the epitmy of strictness. The boy seemed to inch closer to the sage, his body scent growing strong. Erk felt almost grateful for the fact that he had patience that went beyond years of comprehending. If he had to deal with Serra for at least two campiagns, he could deal with almost anything even personal she-devils who were too nosy and too beautiful to really turn away from.

"Pleaaaase?" His hands were clasped as if begging for mercy against a torture that was not needed. To him bathing was abhorring. He hated it with a passion since he was little. He could remember often when he would come back from a day's work and his mother would not let him even touch his food until he batherd. Sometimes he went half-a-week without a bath merely because he would be in town for awhile or on a journey with his mother.

"No." But apparently, Erk didn't take pity on his plight of the bathtub that was evil. Shaking his head to conrfirm the boy's suspicions that the sage might possibly be the evil bathtub's accomplice that had also brainwashed his mother into accepting it. Of course, any boy of seven thought that those things were evil, after all they were for ninny girls like Pinto and her best friend, Anne.

"Pretty please?" If his eyes were to get any bigger, Erk would have to wonder if they would burst upon his clothes. He at least hadn't thrown the boy in the tub. He was saving that as a last resort if reasoning couldn't come though. Though large lashes and voluminous purple eyes as cute as a puppy dog's stared back at him, he felt ready to crumble, then he thought of a threat that would help his resolve against the boy.

"No. Do it or no stories." That was enough said as those big eyes and lashes became diminutive, amazingly small within the matter of seconds that they seemed to be the largest things on the whole Lycian continent. Erk, happy with his resolve, nodded to affirm his answer to the already waited doomed child.

"Okay....." Reka nodded to himself as he went into the warmed tub, smelling his mother's soap from its wetness, lilacs, and the shampoo and conditioner. Taking off all his clothes and going in, he grumbled, hoping against will that the damned bathtub and cleaning should go down somehwhere to hell.

Thinking darkly to himself as he did the necessary things, his thoughts came upon the threat.

'That better be a good story to listen to.'

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Okay, finally finished!! ;; This story was never really on hiatus. I just had to hand-type everything back onto my old computer because my laptop is getting completely revamped. Anyway, I am sooo happy about the red sox winning the world series and everythin'. Johnny Damon so rocks.

Vote on either Ikus, the tomboy or Nyne, the kindest girl for Reka. The ending depends on you!!!!! I am almost finished with this, just a few more chapters until it is finished then I will try to end of Earth and Wind and then I'll finish Adventure between the line. After I finish those two, I will do two new fics. One for Fire Emblem called Lucius 1/2 based off of Ranma 1/2, and Twisted Nerve, a band story for SH.

Then also a whole bunch of one-shots while I write all these chapters!! Go WRITERS!!! It may also take me another while to type up another chapter. I have quite a bit of excitement going on in December and the end of November, considering that I have finals and everything this next week. Anyway, wish me luck getting As I need them.

THANKS!!! PLEASE REVIEW!!!

BAI TO ALL AND LOVES TO ALL TOO!!!!


	7. Bring Me Up

Drunken Lullaby ::An Erk and Serra story::

Chapter 6: Bring Me Up

_Was it too hard for us,_

_To start believing?_

_Is it too hard to trust_

_Your own creating_

_Make the connection, rewrite direction,_

_Make a bond to last_

_Create resurrection from execution_

_Rewrite ours sins so fast. _

_My son of Adam's core_

_My child from Eve's life_

_Bring me to before_

_Come, my dead wife. _

_-'Bring Me Up' Kuri _

A/N: _Italics are flashbacks_

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"So, the white staff she wielded helped save the adventurers against their folly especially the green knight of Caelin's. His use of the sword against the lance became foolishness that she had willingly repaired upon his injured body. The mage that guarded her, waving his hands like crazy using the fire spell, grounding out his magic with each strike of the blazing magic. "

Each moment he spoke the illusive images of memory passed through his mind's eye. Details of a world he didn't really want to remember came unbidden to the master's call. His hurting heart, struck through with the dagger of anger, felt the hand of life, of living emotion, twist the handle. The dagger's hold upon his heart began turning.

'How I loathe my memories, now.' His thoughts turned inward as he watched the young spell caster within the rapture of the story he was telling. Time beginning to surface in the past of his mind, retelling events he could remember in words that was ambiguous to a fault. He didn't know if Reka had knowledge concerning Serra being one of the top members of the Lycian league, but his foresight told him not to tell anything that might give her or him away.

He wouldn't want the child to go boasting about it and then learn from some source what he should've learned from his parents.

_Ready as ever, she raced towards the injured green knight. Her endurance coming out from the many times she had run from the abbey in Ostia, running away from the cloistered life of the sisters. She had never wanted to be so sheltered but she was along with many of the Ostian orphans. She held a lot of gratitude towards the sisters of St. Elimine but she was not ready to live in the smothering state, yet. _

_Another reasons she chose this to delay her journey. Her companion, a mage apprentice from Etruia, raced with her, holding back curses in his mind, she was sure, and chasing away any vagabonds who dared to come close. _

_Erk, as the mage apprentice was aptly named, decided then and there that the demon he was covering for, guarding, was the most insufferable woman he had ever met. A ditzy woman with a flamboyant edge for trouble was not his epicenter of knowledge. Instead he was highly troubled with how to keep her protected from the vagrants that followed them as she raced on towards a man on a horse, cavalier, and also how to keep them out of this battle so he could get rid of the mouthy wench. _

_"Let the light of the justifiable fire blaze you fiends!! FIRE!!" His spell came to his memory's bidding. His arms tracing the gentle arcs of the fire spell, the many training periods he had been through coming handy in this instance as the she-demon was attacked. The anima chant coming upon his lips as he whispered the tome of power's name. The book in his hand began the usual sensation of burning; the letters upon it in copper filigree of magical compress began their glow. The words across the page he had memorize burned away leaving the rest of the book unharmed as usual. _

_The wretched human who dared to attack met with the flames of life, from the tome within his hand. The flames consumed his corrupt and already scarred flesh; the brute falling down in a heap of stinking flesh. The axe the brigand had held became melted away, burning into liquid because of the explosive fury that Erk had put into his spell. Looking unto the fallen form of the green cavalier, he felt a frown take place upon his countenance. If she could hurry up they would be out of here quicker and back on their way to Ostia. _

_"Healing light of St. Elimine, through your caresses save this soul from his mortality." Her voice was light and airy of a pixie's, speaking nothing but a whisper that resounded with the force of her concentration. A wound, gashing down the side of the cavalier's side. A few broken ribs nothing more for the fallen man. The knight gasped in pain as he looked upon the angel that had saved him from certain hurt. _

_"Serra!! Are you done yet?!" His impatience caused the woman to concentrate even more. Standing his ground as he watched her, he felt a slight pride rise up within his breast but smothered it with the remembrance of his hatred for this bugging woman. Shaking his purple hair, he continued staring towards the curve in her back, his eyes roaming her figure, then slapping his mind mentally at what exactly he was doing. Sure. He would admit that the cleric had a body that would feel great in his arms but otherwise? Her personality was nothing he wanted to deal with anymore. _

_"Guard his soul against the demons of pain and anger who wish it for themselves." Her concentration increased tenfold, ignoring the intruding mage's question. Her name on his lips though sounded as if it was right. Mentally shaking herself away from those damning thoughts that the sisters looked highly down upon, she intensified her spell. St. Elimine's smooth based wand, glowing with the holy light of the saint's powers, started shimmering telling her to say the word of power that she had often been taught to say at the abbey whenever she was in the infirmary. _

_"SERRA!!! Watch it!!!" Becoming aware, Erk felt the air hiss with the sound of metal cutting through it. The dense air, from the magic accumulation, seemed lighter as her magic bubble from her spell began wavering almost. Falling away from the bladed foe, evading the attack, he saw who the intended target was. His foe had a guilty expression, as if asking St. Elimine to forgive his transgressions against a woman underneath the Saint's protection. The counterattack coming in with a sweep towards her head. Erk watched almost as if in horror, a screen that replayed in his mind over and over after that ordeal had been done. _

_"HEAL!!!" Uttering her word of power, a bright light came into the area, imploding into its center where the sapphire of the crescent, luminescent towards the eyes of gods, a beacon, became a sun towards the every day humans. Serra scrunched her eyes closed focusing upon the healing part that caused her to learn it blind. She felt the green knight's broken body, along with his horse's, twisting the magic that accumulated towards the focal point of his injuries, knitting his bones back together with a needle of her will, and the threads of his skin coming together once again causing no scar to be left. _

_Once finished, she felt as if her heart would stop from the immense strength she had put in. Her spell was normally bright or that strong in power. She had prayed to St. Elimine to save her while she healed a man. In doing such, the brightness of the spell causing the man to blindly attack her had done what was needed to save her as she finished the spell. Sweat coursed down her forehead. The spell's double edge sword had cost her though. She hoped that the man had healed well and that her guardian would come and help her soon. _

_Her fingers itched as the power of the sapphire went away with the presence of St. Elimine. The warrior that had attacked her as she finished her spell blindly went around trying to attack her. None of his blows came close though so she had nothing to fear as she waited for the knight to get up straight upon his noble steed. That light was not normal for the spell, especially that bright, but she wrote it off with a slightly satisfied smile that she was in St. Elimine's favor. _

_"Light of the million stars burn my enemy to the ground and save those I love around!! FIRE!!" Erk had found his tongue at last as he watched the miracle unwrap around his charge. His eyes seared with the burning sensation of light passing through them. He hoped and prayed silently that he could see another vision of that cheerful expression enough to send her on her way to Ostia. His hands practiced the art of his simplistic mage spell, the book burning up once more. The fires of a burning sun coming through his skin, prickling his skin as if it were a harp to play on._

_The book's page dissipated into nothing, causing the spell to be completed as an inferno came and swiped the speck of life from the vagabond they were fighting against. The smiting of his life, ashes spreading unto the wind from the spell caster's sorcery, created a sense of sorrow in Erk's mind as he felt his target's life energy return to the earth. Searching blindly, he felt small smile come over his face, the gentle energy of the holy sister was there in the area where he last felt her presence. _

_She was safe and well. _

_"Thank you sooo much Erky!!" Serra rushed up, her arms wrapping around the mage's torso. She had seen the small smile on Erk's face but said nothing about it. Her tackle had caused him to go back onto the ground as he was just coming from it. Her limber branches seemed weak as she fell on him. He could feel her heat, higher than normal from the high concentration of magic that she had held while praying for the Saint's gifts. Her body seemed weaker and as he glared somewhat, touch seeming too foreign for him, he easily raised the two of them up to a sitting position. _

_Her sweat beads told him much. She had nearly lost all control of the magic that St. Elimine had given her. He hoped that she could continue and secretly he congratulated her with his eyes searching into hers. She nodded softly, a cheery smile coming over her face. With his sash, Erk wiped off her damp forehead, pausing for a moment as no bandits were near them because of the cavalier's attack on defending the creature that he allowed in front of him. Her smile increased as he had shown her such kindness. Allowing her to breathe for the moment, his eyes conveyed the sense of waiting for her. She nodded to his unasked question. _

_"Whatever. Hurry up and help the others, Serra." Finally he answered her thanks. An enigmatic grin on his head as he got up, pulling her up with him gently. Serra gladly went off, seeing that the red knight was in trouble with a broken wrist. Waiting a few seconds behind, Erk readied a few memorized pages from his tome and raced after her, using his magic to protect the outspoken cleric. His body not so far that in case she fell or stumbled he could help her back up to do her duty._

"When they left the battle towards the two leaders, Lady Seras, and Lady Lyndis, did he notice that she was already giving their powers into the help of the other band. Personally, the mage was enraged since he wanted to hurry and give the woman away to the city of Ostia. She would have none of his protesting."

_He stomped away in his dark leather boots, angrier than when they had first started out in the battle. That……….THAT woman!!! He growled underneath his voice, inhumane, much like an angered animal ready to lash out for the control it didn't have. He could feel the onslaught of a twitch coming underneath his eyes as so often happened when he was highly annoyed, angered, or embarrassed. The dark tinge of red upon his pale face didn't help him any as he tried to conceal the fact that he hated the decision that impertinent woman had made for both of them!!_

_"Aw, c'mon Erky!! Having someone powerful in your debt is something good." She totally didn't have the sense to stay away from a very angry mage, especially one that would be soon ready to lash out with a fire spell if it weren't for the fact that his fire tome might be completely gone before he would have another chance to buy another. Turning abruptly on his hell, he surprised the woman behind him, whom in all regards of life was trying to cheer him back up. A tight-lipped frown along with a small twitch from his eye caused her to almost rethink her decision. Of course, this was Serra and all she did was dismiss that notion and smile brightly. _

_"No it isn't. You already delay us well enough. We do not need some ill-made band of ruffians to continue leading us away from Ostia!!" Not only the fact that Serra was a troublemaker herself, though she tried her best to make others happy, but the other fact that impeded him from dropping her into Ostia as soon as possible was having to travel with a band of righteous simpletons from Caelin. Sure he had heard about the ascension to the Caelin throne and all, but that was all it was, rumors. _

_Until they had to step in and heal a stupid green knight, who had been trying to pick up on his charge more than once and join their band of renegades. He could almost feel the nausea rise up from the pits of his stomach. The stress from this woman and her mentality almost caused him to slam the fire codex into her brain. _

_"I heard that they might be going to Ostia and besides they'll need a healer. Besides, if it wasn't for you dallying along like usual, we would have made the trip to Ostia and Etruia ten times oveeeer." 'Okay, she could really be cute when she wanted to be but why now?' He paused in thought with a glare towards the cleric. She stood there all puppy-eyed asking for forgiveness almost. The unspoken plea won out as he just shut his mouth as soon as he was going to say something. He didn't want to be rude. _

_"………" Really, he didn't. He knew that she could pay for the entire trip three times over his fee and he knew that her knowledge was quite usable especially when he had gotten his wrist caught in that stupid trap. (She had insisted he save the poor rabbit that was in it.) All in all, he was ready to be rid of the witch. Glaring, he caught her pained expression, if for only a moment before she exclaimed out to him. _

_"Aw, stop being sooo pouty, Mr. Grumpy-Mage." Her arm wrapped around his, grabbing the thin limb from his side to hers. She put on her brightest smile and hurried them towards Lyndis and the others. The green knight running forth-spouting poetry towards the new woman in his sight. He blinked towards her actions, remembering the pained expression she used before deciding to hide it away. _

_"…………" She greeted the green cavalier, amusing herself with chattering away incessantly, blushing at his comments which made her guardian merely glower in thought as his mind went back to the last phrase she mentioned to him. It was then that they heard the sudden sound of a scout scream forth about the enemy coming. _

_"Oh, look!! We need to go help!! WE'RE COMING!!" Turning to look back, Serra smiled brightly, happy that she was needed. Erk, being as aloof as what could be called normal for him, watched her slender form rush onwards towards the ensuing battle. Her hands raised towards the tactician. Merely shaking his head, Erk placed a small frown on his face. _

_"……..Mr. Grumpy-Mage?" It had been the first time he had ever been insulted about his demeanor, or teased about it at least. With a small smirk, enveloping his lips secretly, he shook his head with the mere thought of her insult. 'Is that all you could come up with?' A small chuckle escaped his face as he followed his charge onto the battlefield. _

"So in all, that was how Lyndis got her top healer and mage to help her to regain her castle from her uncle."

"Wow!!" yawning, Reka leaned his head on the master sage's chest. He had been sitting in the sage's lap since he had dried off and gotten into his sleeping tunic and underwear. The sage had fabricated a wonderful story about Lady Lyndis, the Marquees from Sacae and her top two magic users, a healer and a mage.

Nuzzling his face into Erk's dark tunic, Reka closed his eyes peacefully. Just the thought of the Lycian League had brought a smile to his face. The nuzzled sage smiled down towards the boy, slipping a casual pale hand into the boy's lavender tresses. A secretive smile taking over his face as he watched the dozing child upon his lap.

Erk had also changed into a deep red tunic that covered his arms. His pants though casual were meant for the wear and tear from the road. They had settled down on the bed seeing as it was the most comfortable to tell a story. Erk, his eyes twinkling down at the sight of his own flesh and blood, smiled a genuine smile that was barely ever seen on the said sage's face.

Setting the boy into the bed, alongside his body, Erk had went back to the rather annoying and somewhat longing thoughts he had for the boy's mother. Serra, sweet angel of healing, and yet a devil with her tongue, had still kept his son from him, yet she was giving their son a chance to choose. He hoped deep down that if Reka chose to go to Ostia that Serra, the vixen of his torn heart, would also come along too.

It had been nearly a day since their reunion from eight years before. Much of his anger was misplaced in a way yet all of it was still true in its own right. The woman had been selfish and had not given him a chance to prove himself capable of loving any creature from her womb, less of all her.

Then again, he had never given much thought back then to her other than signing her off as another annoyance.

The truth was deep down; he had forgiven her because he saw that in that situation, he had been wrong. Through her assumptions, he saw the awful truth he had held for her for years. He had treated her no less than she expected and he supposed that it was true that he might be aghast at the mere thought of having a child with the woman he used to abhor so many years yonder.

Looking upon the face of his seed, he didn't want to think why he even would chase Serra away. The creature that slept alongside his warmth, his own flesh, was a miracle. In truth, he never thought he'd be willing to die for anything really, but this child, with only a few hours with him, had his life to protect its own flame of light.

Overall, he loved his son.

With this in thought, he wondered if he could ever love the woman who bore his son, though their situation was quite differed than those of their peers from the Lycian League.

Of course, with Reka at such a tender age, he knew that the boy wouldn't understand at all. Sighing, holding the boy close to him as he started falling asleep, he wondered about his kiss with Serra.

He didn't exactly hate her. He was angry with her, but that was only caused because of the deep hurt and broken trust she had in him. For the past eight years, he had imagined their child, growing up whether or not it was a boy or girl, but just growing. He could see Serra's cheerfulness everytime he closed his eyes to remember the images he had for his child those last eight years.

Their kiss though sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. Blinking wearily in sleep, he thought upon the feel of her lips, plush, delicate, strong, and exuberant then of her soft hands pausing to brush his skin causing a storm of lights to dawn in his heart.

Erk, a sage and knowledgeable man of his own right, had no idea what love was, but he certainly did not know that if Serra asked him then and there as he lay with his arms around his son, Reka, if he could answer that he loved her.

In fact, how could he say he was in love when he didn't know it?

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Bending over the dirt, Erk wondered how Serra could have ever done this sort of work. The Serra he remembered had asked him how to know when bananas were ripe. He shook his head at that memory merely because of the image him trying hard to explain while Matthew was there.

The dirt was well tilled and the garden was well grown. Vegetables seemed to take to the soil fervently, making the pulling job a little hard because the roots were so deep. His son, picking up his load of vegetables, worked hard at the job. It seemed to be natural towards Erk, though he would never actually picture himself helping in a garden before this.

The boy was nearly done when Erk decided that he should try and bond with the child. With that idea came a surprised venture towards his own stash of books. Fimbrviltar, Ragnorak, and Elfire tomes stashed in the wrapped saddlebags upon his gentle horse. He could try to teach his son the Elfire tome. He seemed to be ready to burst with such magical prowess, having already mastered the fire tomes and the thunder tomes.

Erk could not help but feel proud of his son. The boy had such a strong and perfect control over his magic it seemed, leaving Erk to wonder if Serra had taught the boy her tactics with magic use. If so, the boy just needed to train hard for at least seven years. Calculating in his mind, the sage paused in his work.

It would take Reka until he was twelve if he was as studious as Erk had been, otherwise until he was fourteen to become an accomplished mage.

"Hey, Master Erk?" Reka interrupted his thoughts. He had noticed from what Serra had told him of Reka that her son wanted little of a father though she could sense that he did want his father. She had reason to understand his patience in his mother. She had been through the same thing every adoption day at the orphanage with the sisters. Her strong resolution on her family being Etruian nobles that were coming back to her was a fabricated lie that she had used to console herself. She had used it to reason she was different than her peers.

"Yes, Reka?" The only sad thing about that lie was that she had hoped it was true back then. He knew that secretly, even now, she still had a little hope of it. Remembering his gloomy years in an orphanage caused him to shake his head and return his attention to his child. The boy raised up from the ground, a yellow-weave basket filled with vegetables in his hand, staring hard at his guardian.

"Did you know my mom from the Lycian League?" Pausing in his work, Erk merely blinked at the question. Sitting on the ground, finally dismissing the pulling off his mind, he nodded, gently. His eyes closed at the many memories he had of being in the Lycian League.

"Yes. She was a very good cleric." He thought he could tell their son that. He knew he had to be a little vague when he dealt with Serra's use in the army. She was a very good cleric but even more so she was the army's strongest light user besides Athos and Lucius. Her bishop outfit coming clear in his mind as a pure white with a purple tabard decorated for war.

"How did she meet my dad?" The mage nearly fell over. Why did Reka have to ask impossible questions?! He glared in his mind's eye towards Serra wherever she was. She never said her son was the curious type though he wouldn't doubt that he was. After all, it wasn't everyday an eight-year-old could memorize the fire AND thunder tomes before he even went for an apprenticeship in Etruia.

"He answered a summons. She needed aid and he was there to help her." He answered even more vaguely. Reka thought of the answer and guessed that was what his mother's old yellowed and creased letter contained. He had no idea that Erk was practically sweating away good answers at all. Sitting on the stump of a nine-hundred-year-old tree, He placed the vegetable basket on the ground. His eyes attuned to the earth.

"Well, why didn't he marry my mom?" Erk felt his throat choke before he had any idea of an answer. Reka appeared not to have noticed the obvious noise as Erk tried his breathing practices. He often had gotten too nervous to speak in public that he had to take breathing excursuses. It was almost as horrible as when he had dealt with Lord Pent requesting his marriage to Lady Priscilla. That had been a fiasco.

"………….Her order wouldn't allow her…." He finally found his voice after he calmed down. It was true that to be a sister she couldn't have ever married him but now that she was cut off from the system of strict vows, if she would. She might still feel a sense of her old vows if she were ever asked to marry again. He wondered deep down though if she would be happy being anyone's wife really. Serra seemed as if she should never be chained to one person like that. Too carefree and too spirited to be chained down by the conformity of religion or marriage.

"Why not?" The sage knew he could answer this very truthfully as Lord Pent, growing up, that no man could ever have a sister of the Order of St. Elimine had warned him. If he wanted a healer for a wife he'd have to look at the women who worked their wonders from their horses, troubadours and valkryies.

"Your mother was a cleric for the Order of St. Elimine in Ostia. In order to become a sister, she had to take on a vow of loneliness and chastity." He could remember seeing a sister takes her vows. Pent had made him go see the sight as a testament to the fact that he knew he could never have a woman of St. Elimine. In his heart though, he saw their purity towards the Saint as they ate her body and her blood then washed in the holy water from a basin. Once they had been finished, they were dried off and given their new robes.

"A vow?" Erk nodded as he imagined Serra having to go through the same practice. Her pink hair pooling around her to hide her modesty from the view of those that could never have her. Her body priceless porcelain washed down the purest of waters and brought into a new light. All beautiful women it seemed were under the light of St. Elimine, for he found them the purest.

"Yes, she could never have a companion as her husband or know the feeling of a man or be loved by a man as long as she stayed a sister." He explained the vows easily, his hands helping him tell the vows. Yes, that was one of the reasons that Erk had denied loving her. Her vows prevented him to do so though he knew that his heart was sick for her and their son.

"That sounds like it must've sucked. Can you imagine going through life without knowing love? I heard Sir Legault talk to me about it." He could. He could feel the tear stains on his cheeks as if they were from yesterday. He remincessed about the deep loneliness he felt often as a child and even more so as an adult. He had been raised with the notion that his parents would never love him. Shaking his head from the dark memories, he then finally registered the name that Reka had spoken.

"Legault?" His memories of the thief were little except when Seras more than once conference with the thief, Hector, Eliwood, Lyndis, Pent, Serra, and himself. The reasons for Pent, Serra, and Erk to be there was often for the magical defenses or offenses that the enemy might have had planned out. Legault would tell them which magicians to watch out for and what magical traps there were before them.

"Yes. He came to our house one year by incident. Mama took care of him and he told me a lot of things." Reka smiled at the memory of the wandering thief. The man had worn a gentle air about him that increased comfort around him to Reka. His mother hadn't cared that Legault had been ex-Black Fang, but she'd often ask many things to him in private. Reka would barely be able to hear and understand what they were saying but he also knew that if it were private matters they would stay private.

He had often gotten a chance to talk to the wanderer many times when his mother worked in the garden or went to the village to check up on her patients and get this or that for them. Legault was calm and comforted by Reka's efforts to help him and had talked to him about innocence, love, and judgement. The thief hadn't like judging others, and innocence was something he saw in the faces of children and he saw a lot in Reka. Love he told Reka a lot more about than any other subject besides the Lycian League.

"Like what?" Erk wondered at the many things the man might've slipped. He was after all a very comfortable man, easy-going with others, and more often than not well trusted by the tactician. His life as an assassin was merely a way for his life to continue. He relied on it because of the fact that it had put food in his belly and justice in his heart.

"I asked the reason he wanted to go out in the snow so bad when he was sick. He told me that he loved too much. Apparently, as he told me, love is like living without breath. You can only go so far. With love, you can brandish a sword in the direst of battles and see yourself still in the arms of those you do love. He told me that mama was without love then told me to always be there for her, because I was the only thing that could give her love anymore."

Reka's voice was strange as he recounted the visage upon the thief's face when he had spoken of love to the barely five-year old boy. His words seeming to be lost on Reka as the boy paid attention to his philosophy. Reka could remember barely comprehending his musings, but he could remember the pained look in his purple eyes, as he seemed to see something Reka could never see. In fact, after Legault had gotten well and went off to meet his wife, Reka had stared at his reflection in the mirror for hours wondering why he couldn't see what the man had seen, wondering what pain the man had seen that reflected upon himself.

"Did he say anything about your father?" Erk seemed to ponder upon the vision of Legault meeting Reka. The boy's soft curls protecting his crown as the thief had told him stories from the bed that Serra and Reka slept in. A gentle cooling cloth upon the man's forehead with his gentle lips speaking kindly, smiling towards Serra's child, knowing the secret of her running at last.

"Yes. He only said that fear kept them apart. He then said that in order for mama to love again, she'd have to quit living in fear, and so would my dad." Reka's memories came back to him as he talked more about the man that had gotten well at his home. Reka could see the visible shock in the sage's dark violet eyes. The iris shrinking to the size of a decimeter. Keeping his mouth shut about it was smart, but he supposed as he watched the sage when he had asked his questions, that the man knew more than he was letting on.

"Legault is truly too curious." Chuckling to cover his mind-numbing fear and shock, Erk grinned pitifully. So Legault had known either way. Deep in his heart, Erk still thought about his fear of her. He was afraid of the feeling when they had traveled in the legion, and when it broke he never thought the feeling would come back as his heart seemed to have died along with his mind. If it came back, Erk would be terrified and scared of Serra and even worse, might act the same as he did to disregard the potent emotion.

"Who is Seras by the way?" Taking the pause that had been withdrawn between both men, Reka asked another question that he had no answer towards, especially when it concerned the Lycian League. His mother was very reticent on them except when she was telling him of an exploit that they had done in the campaign of the dragons.

"Lady Seras? She was the tactician who helped Marquees Pherae, Lord Hector, and Marquees Lyndis on their campaign against the dragons." Surprise etched its way across Erk's pale face. He hadn't expected a question of the tactician to come up. Seras, who often was a little excitable, had enough energy to put Serra and Matthew combined in shame, along with a sense of ironic sarcasm to help all of the campaign to get on with their jobs especially when the going was good considering that meant she was ina good mood for the moment.

Erk remembered the woman's mood changes. They were very different from the moment she woke up to the minute she fell asleep, though he prayed for Legault deep down that her mood changes had lessened in intensity since last time he had seen the wandering woman.

"Oh, so that was who Sir Legault kept muttering about. Mama wouldn't say a word about who Seras was." Reka's eyebrows knitted together at the image his mother had shown him of the smart woman. Serra had made it from a piece of her journal, sketching it with her quill pen easily when she had journeyed. He wondered how Sir Legault was doing then shook his head. His mind was set on getting the truth out of this man.

"I see……." Picking himself up, Erk walked over to Reka. A small breeze tossed his purple hair through the weaves of its breath, picking them up and tracing them into images in the air much like a spell if only for a moment. His son raised his oculars to his unknown father. Nodding, he followed the man inside. Watching him, emphathetic to the voice of pain that seemed to cry out in the man's dark eyed depths.

Peicing one and one together, Reka finally felt as if he were near the truth. His heart quickened along with his breath, being scared at the potential answer he might get. They passed the door by now, Erk following on through, placing the basket of vegetables onto the counter, turning to the stopped boy in curiousity.

"Did you like my mama?" Reka's mouth could work wonders against the hammering and reasoning in his heart and mind. Placing a tentative hand to support himself, he watched the man's eyes to see if they changed. They did. Instead of the usual sullen and pained look the spell caster held deep in the window of his soul, a knowing emotion passed through. Reka shuddered in neither fright nor anger.

He had seen that look in Thom's mother's eyes whenever Ikus's father was mentioned. He had seen it when Birdgette talked about Kiley the fletcher that died in the first Lycian War. He had seen it when Sir Legault mentioned the tactician he had been going to see in Bern.

He had seen it when his mother had talked of his father no matter how brief it had been. That look, that emotion had played across each and everyone of their eyes. It was passing through the sage's eyes. He knew deep down that his truth had been found, but he pushed away the insistant voice saying he had found his father. 'I had only found a man that loved my mother. There could be two men who loved her or even more.' He reasoned to himself. Seven year-olds were never really faced with the thought of confronting the man that had never been in their life it seemed.

He was in awe.

"………………Why?" The sage couldn't help the slight tremble to his voice. He highly hoped that the boy was oblivious but he knew more than to hope for that. His and Serra's created being was a child of highly birght intelligence who did notice everything around him. He knew, buried underneath layers of an empty shell, that he loved the woman in question. His heart did not seem to stop spinning out of control and his stomach felt fluttery.

"If my dad wanted to be with her, why did he allow her to go?" Understanding dawned upon Reka. He still wasn't ready. He screamed at his mind to shut his mouth, to shut the troublesome things that were coming forth but unfortunately, his mother's genes were likely showing through. His mouth had found a powerful conviction. It knew that it could prove it with only a little pushing.

"…….I have no idea why he did such a curious thing……" Erk was amazed personally on how dignified and aloof his son seemed at the moment, but the sage searched deep into the cesspools of lavender to try and find the bright young soul in there who was not ready to face his own truth.

"Well, if my dad liked my mama a lot, he wouldn't have allowed her to go. I think he knew someone else loved her as well so he thought she went to him." Reka's mouth, overflowing with his conviction was stopped all of a sudden, making a fabrcated lie until he could find out on his own. A small grin came over his lips, happy that he could control his mouth now.

"Why would you think that?" The sage moved over to his seed, kneeling before the boy seeing the shallow tears beginning to fall down the strong child's cheeks. Wiping away a bang from Reka's forehead, he cupped child's cheek with the palm of his outstretched, dirtied flesh. Reka felt a connection somewhere inside of him as if he had found the toymaker of his favorite toy.

Then he felt the water dripping down his cheek. Hot and salty to the taste coursing down into his mouth, tears for a soul he wished to know. He was beginning to cry. In his life, as far as he could remember, he never cried. He hadn't cried at Ikus's younger brother's funeral, Kagen, being his best friend before then. He hadn't cried neither at stuffy ol'man Harley's funeral. All the funerals were conducted by his mother and since his mother went, he often followed her.

"Why else wouldn't he be here?" His voice trembled as he finally let loose the torrid of sorrow that he felt. He wished so much that his mother could be happy and that he could have a happy family that didn't rely on daytime smiles and night time tears. He wished for his father for guidance, even if he didn't know the man at all. He wished that his mother wouldn't cry so much when he slept.

He felt the strong fabric before he could smell the strong scent of lilies. His mother had always loved lilies. Every year she grew a small patch for them, just so she could smell them every morning as she worked in the garden during the spring and summer. Darker voilet fell into his vision as he gripped onto the comforting presence. He never would have done this in fornt of his mother or anyone else for that matter. Somehow this spell caster had an affect of creating a sense of strong security.

For the first time he wailed out his pain and sorrow.

"So innocent…….You're a really strong boy, Reka." Once Reka's cries had swallowed down to a small sob, Erk pet the boy's head as the boy had leaned into him, looking for the sage for the willing support to uphold him. The sage had willingly given ground, sitting on the floor, holding the laying child upon his breast. The boy's head listening to the imitation of his own heart.

"Uh……thanks, I guess…..but…..why did he let mama go?" He really wanted to know. He wanted to understand why he didn't have a father and everyone of the other kids did. Closing his eyes to hear the strong thumping of the sage's heart, Reka felt so peaceful for once. He wasn't torn anymore between the knowledge that his mother and father were separate.

"………." Erk was silent. He didn't know what he could tell the boy especially when the child was in such a state. Petting the boy's curls, he felt as if he was in the same position that Reka had been in when Lord Pent had held him. He could remember the soft gesture that his master's hands had given him. The soothing gesture causing Reka to press on with his question.

"Do you know why?" Erk felt his heart tear at the memory. Her letter written in her elegant handwriting that night telling him of her feelings and their son. Fate was playing the strings of his heart with the old songs of men who had no love, sad to the bone and even more sorrowful to the heart as it was the instrument being played with.

"Yes……Keep it a secret from your mother, but….." He decided he could tell a little to the boy, if not much. His strong conviction towards Serra explaining everything breaking slowly into the oblivion that was his mind. The deep void not caring anymore, hoping not to tell everything for Serra was going to tell their child some of the story after all.

"What?" His big lavender eyes got bigger in curiuosity. The luminous light purple shining from the shadows of his face. He waited patiently. Maybe he had finally found the truth that he had searched for from his mother.

"……….He didn't have a choice. Your mother went off on her own and….." Erk paused, not sure how he could go on anymore. A small tear had fallen down his cheek as he remembered the sharp pain of needles pouring through his body. Such daggers twisting and turning through his skin causing him to twist in pain. His mouth turned into a frown, raising himself up away from his son suddenly becoming aloof from the boy.

"And?" Reka watched curiously. His mind contemplating upon the one tear that fell down the man's pale face. His hand brushing away from his cheek, stinging with the hidden pain in his eyes. Reka could tell that the same old pain had resurfaced along with the loneliness he felt deep down in his body.

"Nevermind………It is nothing I should tell you." Erk had stopped himself in time. He had no reason to tell Reka much of anything. He had only known the boy for at least twenty-four hours and he was now willing to die for the child if so be it. Putting a hand unto his brow, he sensed that he did feel well and was not sick.

"Why not?" Reka picked himself up from kneeling, coming over to the sage's distress. The man seemed to radiate a great sadness that didn't seem to heal but he knew, just somehow he knew, that the wound would heal soon. With a gentle grin, the boy reached out with his hand to touch the pale man's own warm hand. Gentle reassurance and love emanated from him to the man.

"It is Serra's responsibility. She is your mother and she is the one who decided her actions back then." Putting a soft smile on for his son, Erk gripped the boy's hand, reassuring him that everything would once more be okay, which he hoped was the truth. Reka thought once more, his eyes shimmering as he began wiping his last tears away.

"Do you think my dad would have loved me?" It was an unspoken question between him and his mother. He didn't know if the reason his father hadn't married his mother and been there since the beginning was because of Reka or not. Erk paused in thought, wondering what answer he could give Reka but in his compassion, he knew there was only answer to give.

"………Reka, He does love you a lot." A gentle smile, fortunate and kind, graced his visage, turning unto the face of a brightened tomorrow. His son nodded in a smile befitting a king at the prospect of a wedding. Time seemed to had stopped when Erk had been consoling the boy, but now the brightened look upon the child's face caused Erk to merely smile in a genuine irony.

"Th…..Thank you, Master Erk……" Reka bowed formally in front of the higher classed man. Lavender curls falling into identical lavender eyes, closed in gratitude. Reka felt at peace with this man even more than when he was with his mother. The man's pale hand clamped onto his shoulder giving it a squeeze as he returned to his normal height.

"Erk." The formality of bowing in fornt of him had caught Erk off guard. Noticing his son bowing to him like that crossed a sheet of red embarrassment across his cheeks. Shaking his head in neither disbelief or annoyance, he chuckled darkly to himself. He didn't want the one thing he seemed to cherish now to treat him as if he were an object of worship.

"What?" Reka glanced up at the sage, giggling at the red blush that had came onto the sage's cheeks. His eyes confused. Had he done the wrong thing? He had seen Ikus do the same exact thing to the sword master, Demok. He only supposed that it was the proper way to thank someone who was of a higher class than you. (Ikus had started her training to become a sword master. She was a mymridon.)

"Just call me Erk. No bowing either!!" Shaking his head with dark laughter, hoping his blush would escape his enflamed cheeks already. The spell caster squeezed the boy's shoulder then took his touch of the child's form. His dark heated cheeks glowed beneath the shelter of his purple hair with his tentative hand grasping into his magic principles, putting a warm fire in the stove so he could cook lunch for the both of them.

"Okay…….Thank you…..Erk!!" Reka was highly amused at himself. Okay, so he had done it wrong the first time, but hopefully, he would get it right this time. He prayed that he hadn't angered the sage though he thought he only caused the man to be only slightly discomforted.

"You're welcome Reka……Now, I was wondering, which tomes have you mastered?" Erk began fixing lunch for the two of them. The smell of his cooking came in an instant. The sweet smell of baked bread and hot stew came through the small cottage. Reka grinned as he wondered how to actually cook. His mother would never allow him near a stove. Within that thinking, he heard the sage's question.

"Fire and Thunder……They're the only tomes mama ever got me…" His truthful answer gave Erk a gentle understanding of his son's strong curiousity. Serra, the ever learned woman, would have insisted that the basic learning be given to Reka. She had taught many of the army's fighters to read and write in the short time she had been with them.

"Would you mind me teaching you an even stronger tome?" He wondered if he should wait, but the picutre of sharing such a special thing with his son came down to his final decision. Reka had a long way to go before he would become a sage but Erk knew the boy would be safe with the power that he channeled.

"Not at all!! It will help me get my mind off of dad!!" The boy's face brightened up considerably at the prospect of learning higher magic. The mana that flowed in his veins from the earth was always very strong willed. He knew in a mage's view that spell casters were merely more sensitive to the springs of mana in the ground. Grounding was a way to give back some of the powerful energy. Mages were nothing but servants, vessels for the power that they were sensitive to.

"Good. I have an Elfire tome you can use for your very own for learning purposes." Getting out two bowls and two spoons, Erk placed them beside the heated stove. Poko, the cook back in Lord Pent's castle, would be so proud of his cooking. Poko had taught Erk since he was received from the snow as Lady Louise called it.

"Really?!" Washing some carrots they had picked along with some potatoes, Erk began cutting up the vegetables. Using magic, Reka watched intensely. He cut the vegetables with the blade of his fingers as if he were holding an invisible blade that chopped the orange and brown things.

"Yes. I'll teach you how to cast it correctly, along with certain grounding techniques for your mana." Sprinkling the chopped parts into the heating pot, he continued on with his cooking. The scent of rosemary and dill came through as both herbs came down from their respective bows. "Ground these two together."

"This really is a lot to be thankful for!!" Nodding, Reka chopped off a centimeter of both ends of the plants and began using a mortar and pestle. His grounding being somewhat uncontrolled causing Erk to almost wince. The boy would have to learn to be increasingly gentle if he were ever going to create spell books or create new spells. He winced watching the child slam the pestle into the mortar as if there were chunks in there.

A lot gentler.

"Just as long as we finish eating lunch should we start on your lessons." Erk sighed, waiting until the herbs were grounded somewhat thin. They would have to deal with feeling the leaves slide down their throats. It could be no worse than Lady Seras's cooking. That had been an experience besides Sain's cooking that was uneasily dealt with. Everyone in camp dreaded the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth days of each month. Most were not allowed in the kitchen except for Seras, Legault, and Rebecca during that time.

Pausing to watch Reka pour some stew for himself, Erk smiled.

He hoped that he would bond with him a lot more.

LLLLLLLLLL

It was after the week's hard work in the garden and the small training circle that Erk had set that caused the week to fly by faster than expected. Reka's mind reverberated from the awesome strength that the sage had barely tapped into. The elfire tome on the stand beside the bed seemed to glow. He was barely able to conjure the faerie fire to the smallest extent which caused the sage to only nod and be patient.

The sage in question though, waylaying Reka's thoughts of his father immensely, was asleep upon the bed where Reka was awake. The man's arms held him close as if he would disappear from sight, which caused Reka to be intrigued by the guardian. He was elusive with his answers and his own past it seemed especially when it concerned the Lycian League.

Reka merely shook his curly head to dim those thoughts. He was happy and at peace for a time in his life. He felt happy when the sage was paying attention to him and for some reason he felt as if he should know the man more personally but tallied up that idea with mere curiousity.

Turning over to look at the man, he leaned close to his face. The sage's purple brows were knitted in hurt as tears seemed to fall. His hold tightened considerably on Reka. The boy's breath escaping him even more than from the strength of the man's limbs.

A blow that knocked close to home escaped the man's pair of gentle lips.

"Serra, don't take…….Reka……." Confused, Reka's eyes opened wide as he listened even more closely to the man's tired speech.

"What?" Responding in bewilderment, he could feel the tears that fell down the man's cheek onto his own. Erk's noble brow was held together in elusive pain, unknown to him or anyone for that matter. Reka was terrified.

"Don't……Reka's my son….……"

With four little words, Reka felt his world collapse around him.

LLLLLLLLL

Okay, so Reka finally found out!!! I kind hurried it up a little but I felt as if Reka, especially from Reka's tugging on my hair, should learn soon. Okay, muse Reka leave!!! I have no idea on how to have Serra to react or to have Reka react in the next chapter at all. I think Reka should personally not say a damn thing except when he's supposed to.

Gah, I'm at a lost. Oh, well. I just have about three more chapters to go until I finish this up. Then I'll have three one-shots up and a Fire Emblem Humor/Parody fic called Rejected Conversations. That will be a thing done between NightFalcon and I.

Well, lessee what do I have to do? Well, I need to finish my math homework and I need to post this as soon as possible. I'll probably have this posted along with Mabudachi Trio and Winter es Kalter Als Sommer or Winter is colder than summer, sadly enough a small tactician x Legault impliment but otherwise a story about the hardship of lives under your orders.

Well, the voting is still going on and everything. Please REVIEW!!! LOVES TO ALL!! Harbinger girl over and out!!!


	8. Calm Inside the Storm

Drunken Lullaby : An Erk and Serra Story:

Chapter 7: Calm Inside the Storm

"_I can get upon the right side of the bed_

_But that won't stop the rain_

_From coming down on my head_

_I can live my life_

_Playing hide and seek_

_But when I look inside_

_It's hard to make believe"_

_-Cyndi Lauper 'Calm Inside the Storm'_

The darkness seemed like a good thing to walk through carrying the only shred of light he wished he didn't carry. The priceless time that he wanted to hold onto, the façade his mother wore and the acknowledgement of not having a father was washed away from the time he now held.

Would he be able to treat this man as his father? The answer couldn't come.

The man already treated him like a piece of his own family, but would that family now carry on that he knew that the man was no longer who he seemed to be. He was no longer 'just' a simple sage. Master Sage Erk was his father. His father, Master Sage Erk.

The nighttime was perfect, he supposed after all, it helped him go inward even if he was brought out of his thought by stumbling over something little like a rock. The village lay over the hill, the red light of fire shining as a beacon for all. The river by his feet however, soothed over the loud crackles of fire.

He was now alone. At least, he thought he was.

"Reka?" The question raised his head out of thought and into the reality that he lived in. A nine-year old girl stood across the riverbank, eyes wide at the sight of his nearly naked form. He hadn't thought to wear anything as he escaped his house to escape the words. The girl's eyes widened even more as she realized that it was who she thought.

"Reka! You lummox! What are you doing here without some sort of cover or cloak or…..or something?"

He grimaced, trying to make a small sort of smile. He wasn't able to hide his feelings very well. His mother abhorred lying like the plague that came years before during the Second Lycian War. He never even tried to lie like other kids had for he knew his mother would eventually find out anyway.

"Hi, Ikus." He gave a small wave, bundling more of himself into a ball on the riverbank. Ikus had come out for at least three days with the swordsman, Yui that was under the direct command of the Healer. Her green eyes only narrowed angrily at him. Ikus hadn't forgiven him for not going with her and the other boys to the river after each of them recovered.

"Hi, sheep head. I heard your mom's coming home soon. What's going on with that magic man you have? Is your mom going to keep him as a pet or something?" She tilted her head to the side, wild lime hair falling like shag, eyes narrowed with anger and hand propped up. Reka internally flinched as he thought for what to do logically and what was going to happen logically. Would the man leave him and his mother again? Or would his mother take him away from him? Would they move away to Ostia or what? He had no clue as to what may happen to him.

Biting his cheek, he thought of what the man had said to him. The man was searching for them and had found them, whether or not it was by fate, Reka had no idea as of yet. But why was the man searching for them? He had mentioned something about Ostia. Reka, sadly, could not seem to remember much except for those words coming out of the man's breath. He seemed to replay the image over and over.

As he thought, night was perfect to think over in, after all, one didn't get many distractions except for the fact that now he was sharing space with the tomboyish Ikus, a fighter that could land a blow to his cheek before he would blink, though he could utter a spell before she could land the blow, if he was prepared enough, of course.

"Hey! It's polite to answer questions when they're addressed you, lunkhead! Growling, a pathetic attempt made by imitation of her master, Ikus deciding sat down beside him and looked over his thoughtful form.

His knees were up against his chest being held by his thin, wispy arms all in nothing more than a tunic of beige.

Pathetic looking, really.

"Geez, what's wrong? You look like someone from the dead came back to haunt you."

He didn't answer, lilac eyes widening, looking away into the dark river.

His face showed such innocence that had been torn away from him by words merely mumbled after a dream that could not be real. Could it be true though? His wonder escaped him as he looked up to the green-haired tomboy, eyes assessing what he already knew of her.

Could eyes that green keep his secret? Could they keep the fear at bay?

Reka had no idea what to think anymore and thought of his mind as more a curse than a blessing like his mother always thought of it.

What was it with the idea of knowing everything? It was a common thirst that he had learned he had shared with Sage Master Erk. The master had told him many things amongst what he had learned from his mother. He could remember a story that the master had told him about when he was younger, trying to warn the boy about the hunger of knowledge.

The ambition and drive was hard to satisfy as he learned from Erk. Shivering, a flash of a hand waving before his eyes caused him to fall out of the deep hazed look of deep thought to the area around him.

Then his thoughts were brought back to him in an instant as he looked upwards towards the lime-colored recruit. Her eyes showed such a concern that he could only see in his mother's and Erk's eyes. With the mere thought of the sage master's name, he went to some new thoughts.

Ostia…..

If he went to Ostia, what would become of the village, Yui, and most of all, Ikus? What would Ikus do? Would she really succeed as the swords master of the village after Yui or would she become another cold body in the ground before she turned fifteen, maggot feed for the worms and decaying predators?

Would she be safe if they left? Her foolhardiness often made Reka be her reluctant rescuer, although she never minded him coming to pick up her messes by much. To most, Ikus appeared to buff the other boys off her shoulders except for when she got into situations she could never get out of.

If he left, would he hear stories of her bravery or her foolishness? He would love to hear how she single handedly killed five hundred bandits or something of the like, but would she keep her mouth shut still?

Yes, she was his best friend or rather one of his best friends.

"Reka………" Her voice was concerned as those eyes looked upon the half-naked form of her friend. She really could not have imagined such a thing to happen to her strong willed friend, after all, who would want to see their idol be human?

That was right. Reka was her idol. She didn't act like the ground he walked upon was holy or anything but he was the closest person she would ever come to think of fawning over, so he was her idol.

She wasn't exactly attracted to him; after all he had weird mannerisms and was way too polite for her to stand half the time. Reka was the adult, the cool guy who seemed to tolerate hanging out with a bunch of the dweebs. To them, Reka was more grown up because of how he acted, thinking of his actions before he acted.

'Too much like a grown-up,' Ikus's mind muttered in disgust. She aspired to be like him in her own way though. She tried thinking ahead, as much as she could, though she never got used to the idea too much. She leapt before she thought and dealt with life that way. It was easier to do that than thinking too much of what could happen.

She was doing everything her way. She was concentrating on being almost exactly like him, just her. She had started showing some respect to her elders, though the ones she did show respect for were few and far between. She also was trying her best to be more mature, finding it harder to be child-like anymore when she was already becoming an apprentice for Yui full time.

She was also finding herself thinking of others more than herself nowadays. Reka never seemed to think of himself, at least to her anyway, and always protected the younger ones amongst their group of kids.

It was not as if she adored him like some girl who was hoping he'd one day propose to her. She just rather, in a matter of words, highly respected him since he had saved her that day over a week or so ago. Ever since then, Ikus knew it was time to stop being the childish brat she was and grow up a little so that she could make sure none of her friends experienced the pain she had gone through being tied up.

"You look as if the world ended but it hasn't. Time still goes on even if you want to get stuck in the past. All you can do is accept. It's eventually going to turn out for better, so don't worry about it, okay?" It was the only thing that she could think of to say to him with his face so crestfallen, eyes so resounding in the haunting memories of the past that she couldn't fathom the endless lilac colors that were myriad in the ghosts.

His eyes looked into her own; appreciative of the way she had not decided to question him further than before. He could tell she had the undying curiosity waiting to be satiated, the hungry look of her eyes just like his thirst for knowledge. Ikus, almost unlike him, had control over her thirst for knowledge and didn't tell him that he had to answer.

And he found that he was happy that way.

Smiling, eyes rebounding back into the present, Reka nodded and then wondered where she had learned that. His hand inched over and placed his fingers lightly on hers; wanting to in some way show that he was reassured. He had seen Thom's and Vern's parents do the same when Thom had lost his other parent. The gentle pet caused Ikus to look as if a fish had just opened its mouth and talked.

"Where did you hear that from?" His question nearly fazed her if she all ready hadn't been as shocked as she had been nearly during their entire conversation. It completely unnerved her that she could think that her idol, the closest thing to one anyway, was almost having a complete mental breakdown. Reka didn't let much annoy or bother him, but this had terribly.

Oh, well. She'd have to remind him of who he was that was all.

"You said it, silly! How can you not remember something you said after my da' passed away to the flu a few years ago." She smiled, justifying the reason she felt light-headed for it being late for her.

It was then she knew that she was doomed.

He smiled, just not any smile, but a smile she knew that she wanted to get for herself and only herself. Shaking her head as she felt her cheeks become hot, Ikus pointedly had to end it.

"Ikus……..I was wondering, if I go to Ostia with Erk and my mother, then will you still be you when I get to come back?" Reka was scared of asking if she'd be there for him, waiting for him to come back. He wanted to come back if he left. He loved it here.

He found out deep down that he would love to have a family one day here, simply because of the tranquility that was mustered around. This place was a haven for him most days.

He also didn't want Ikus to leave him or this haven. She was the one that always made it seem interesting and fun. This place would be not much fun without her getting into scrapes and everyone of the boys taking her out of them.

"O-of course! I promise!" She held out her hand, unabashed by the slight tinge of pink she held upon her face, pinky outstretched, waiting for a friend to claim its own end. Reka's diligent fingers reached out from his position, gently touching the inside of the pinky that she was almost unsure that his touch was there. Light as a father and quick as one as well, the spitting image of a mage in her mind.

"Pinky promise?" She knew this was a moment that would change her entire life. Just one silly promise for childhood friends should not ever seem as menacing as she could see the two forks in the path to her future. She could not promise truly she hoped, but anything to reassure him and to get him back inside was okay with her.

Smiling, Ikus went down the path of weeds, long begotten of ill will and negligence, the harder of the two as she could feel the brushes of loneliness start as she said the words to start her lonely journey to a forest of no regret then onto the shiny world of happiness where Ikus would do one thing she would never think of herself doing.

"Pinky promise. Now go home, you twit." Nudging with her hand as it was slowly released from the firm shake of pinkies; she poked him towards the hill where his mother and he lived with each other. The cottage lanterns were on as he had left them to be for that was a normal protocol at night.

"Okay, I will see you tomorrow." He knew he had to leave. Something had passed that would one day make his life change forever. He hoped Ikus had felt it as well for the mana that had passed through him to their interlocking pinkies had caused him to feel as if he was on cloud nine almost except for the slight glimmer of twisting pain that was gone as quick as it began.

"See you until then." With that she walked away into the darkness of the forest, holding a full gourd of water for herself. The smell of wet leather caused Reka to scrunch his nose up into a sense of enjoyment. He loved the smell of wet leather though he would never tell the girl that was nearly out of sight.

It was then that he remembered his manners.

"IKUS!" He yelled out into the night, cupping his pale hands to his mouth as if it were a volume spell from a useless tome that his mother had gotten from a friend in the village as a joke. The girl's small form turned around, fuming somewhat at his inane stupidity. He could get killed for yelling like that if there were any bandits around!

"What is it, you nilly?" She had run to a distance where she could talk normally to him, her breaths coming short as she held onto her legs. She hated running with a passion but she did it for Yui's training and that was about it.

"…….Thank you….." Smiling, Reka didn't know why he did it. It was another one of those moments no one had control of. He leaned forward and planted a very shy and chaste kiss to her cheek and ran back home leaving a stunned Ikus.

Up in the trees, watching the children in the meadow, Yui knew that he was now dealing with a bigger problem with Ikus who stared bewildered at the retreating figure of her friend.

LLLLLLLLLLL

It was morning and Erk wasn't sure what to do about Reka. The child was still sleeping as if he was sick and Erk did try to wake him up to no avail. The boy was a hard sleeper, almost as much as Serra had been when she fought with Lyndis's legion and Eliwood's elite.

He wanted her. He realized that now more so than ever. She haunted his dreams, keeping his mind constantly either in fervent nightmares or hellish sinful dreams that were, in a way, quite interesting if he ever played those ones out with the hellish she-demon.

He wanted her for more than her body though. She was the mother of his child so he had no need to worry about such a thing as family. He knew they had been young, but not too young to get married and start having children. But she had been a sister and he was only a sage's apprentice when he was with her until their second conquest.

She also was kind, loving, and sweet yet still oblivious, not as much, and a little selfish. He wanted her to think of him as if he were truly going to be part of her life though she refused to acknowledge such a thing from him.

He loved Reka, down right adored the child and wished often that he had heard the child's first word, seen his first step, and used his first spell. He wanted to be there even more so. He didn't want to miss out on anymore.

He wanted Reka to know him, to realize that the look-a-like stranger in his house was his father and that his father wanted something to do with him. He hoped that would be enough in this life since he didn't have much else to go one.

Nowadays, there were only two people in the world who could take up his mind and that had Reka, and Serra. He remembered their first meetings and their first arguments. He wanted to be apart of that once more. Share those things even more than he already had immersed himself into as he would deal with his feelings eventually.

He still was not sure about the love thing. He wished he could say but how would one know he was in love when one has never been loved in such a way before her. He didn't deal with women well and Serra, herself, was a basket case sent to him as punishment or guarding.

Hearing the scraping of the door, he turned around to see Serra walk in, her head lowered to the ground as she placed a basket on the table. The basket was filled with the aroma of eucalyptus, a smell that made Erk squirm from all the times he had to have that scent with him when he was sick.

She looked tired, dirt on the edges of her hems, darkened smudges from not bathing for at least a day, and a wry twist of her lips. He wanted to rush over and hug her to enjoy the feel of the woman he dreamed about day in and day out. He wanted her to know that he valued her.

Even if he didn't know how much anymore than she did.

"Welcome home." Startled, Serra looked up to Erk, who had stood up from his chair. Those words were so heartwarming to hear from him that Serra nearly wanted to fall down and cry in happiness. She had wanted to hear those words from him when she dreamed of their lives together.

His smile was warming, and she could tell that he had missed her and wanted to thank her somehow for giving him a week with their child. His eyes searched for his answer to his question. He didn't know, but he wanted to know why she caused him to think over his life in such a disdainful manner.

Her fingers unclenched and clenched her smooth light purple tabard. Her gloves smudging the dress with oil from her leather reins. She wanted to move up and hug his body but she knew that she had to limit herself from him; after all, he didn't love her.

"Reka and I will leave with you." She was straightforward in her decision, headstrong in her thoughts as she had traveled. Her mind thought long and hard over the repercussions but she was willing to deal with them. Lord Hector had ordered her there, in a matter of words and so she was to obey her overlord's decision even if it was through a vassal named Erk.

He stared at her for a second before he closed his mouth in after thought. He shouldn't gape. It was impolite. He hadn't thought Serra to agree to leave with him so readily. Her determined eyes showed such strength that Erk had to wonder where Reka really got his strength from.

Did his son become strong because of his mother's determination? He knew that when Serra put her mind to something, it was something that was going to get done by her. She didn't like the idea of other people handling her buisiness without her supervision.

He wondered what would happen now as she settled down onto a stool by the tub, Erk's old clothing lain strewn across the floor. Serra looked at him with such a look that immediately suggested he clean after himself. Sighing, the sage flicked a few of his fingers to form the silver pentagram in the air, casting an air spell that had been hybrid with summon spell to summon an invisible servant.

The clothes in no time were off the floor and hanging outside as his helper immediately disappeared after his task. Serra rose an eyebrow a few centimeters higher at the strange spell Erk cast.

"What was that?" Her voice was small, fearful of the subject. He remembered her first reaction to his experimentation with all kinds of magic. He had tried to get others to help him create a small assortment of spells that would help around like his master's patented sky eyes that were given to the school of tacticians that Master Tactician Viktor Talunis taught at.

He could remember his tactician, Seras, using the same spell with her innate magic ability that was as strong as a flickering ember in the sand. She could maintain two spells at once, such as a communication circle and the sky eyes but otherwise, she sucked at magic.

He had always wanted to make something that would help others and when he came across the Fenrir tome, his dreams had nearly come true. It was made even better when he started to dabble in the dark arts of summoning which he always was a bit apprehensive about approaching in his mind. Botching a summoning spell was never a pretty thing to witness but it was an excellent thing he was such a good mage.

"An experimented spell." He deemed that Serra's slightly disgruntled look was good enough to suggest that she didn't exactly approve of his love for experimentation. The pink-haired cleric had often been worried about mixing magic especially since he didn't always have time to set up the best barrier spells, especially before he became a sage. He had always had Serra or Lucius stay with him, barrier spells cast around them, in case he ran into a particular trouble during the experiment, which he admit was a few times.

He remembered one time when the she-demon had come out of their small experiment tent, one that the tactician had granted him out of Serra's loud annoying voice constantly barraging the easily-stressed woman, as a small pink cat that nearly clawed him to death in displeasure. She had stayed in that form for only a couple of days but once word got out that Erk had turned her into that, he was nearly getting paid in bags of silvers and jewels to perform it again.

Everyone had been getting the better end of the stick for those couple of days while Serra had landed with the short end of the stick.

"So you have been busy, haven't you?" A mere glance at his eyes and the ex-cleric wanted to fall away into the abyss of those dark eyes. He was almost too withdrawn, speaking only when asked a question. Prodding and poking like she had when she was with him was only one answer to the solution.

She was hoping he was going to warm up to her soon, forgiving her for her transgression against him. His eyes darkened considerably more from the already dark shade of amethyst that she had to wonder about. A small scowl passed over his lips that returned to the neutral position it had been in.

"Yes, I've been experimenting with spells and spell types so much that I always make Lord Pent worry along with his wife Louise." He had wondered if he should have told her that, but it was the truth. He had been so busy that he had nearly died from exhaustion and he never went out to enjoy the world which was another factor towards his skin being so soft and pale.

The woman sitting on the stool said nothing for a few minutes, wrestling herself away from the amount of worry and rebuking she wanted to do. She never wanted Erk to do that to her. Saint above, she hated when he would lock himself away to the thirst of his lust for knowledge, a desire that was not easily overridden unless it was forcibly. She was never ashamed to say that she interrupted his brooding "me" time that he set aside for himself every minute of every day.

She loved Master Sage Pent of Etruia in a fatherly way for when he had joined with Eliwood's party in Bern, she had been the welcoming party for their escaping, distracting wyverns as she used her tomes of light magic against the beasts of burden, scorching and even making some disappear into the light of Elimine's grace.

The man had treated her much like a doting parent would in her mind, giving her a chance to explain herself, amusing himself by watching her chase after Erk. He gave her many tips that she would have not found out through Erk. Pent was a gentle man at heart and more outgoing than most reclusive mages like Canas and Erk.

His wife was polite, even sweet but never very connecting to Serra. The woman never knew why she held such an uncomfortable air with Lady Louise who was as gentle as Lord Pent and as down to earth. It just seemed that Lady Louise did not approve of such a rowdy child for her Erk, but then again, she might have and Serra just felt too nervous around the royal elder.

"How are they doing?" She stressed the they even though Erk knew she mostly meant Lord Pent. He had gotten through tons of little misadventures because of that man with Serra's little amusing-herself plots that he somehow became the center of. He never knew why at all, though now he could take a few wild guesses that were probably never that far off.

"Lord Pent is taking a vacation to Nabata Desert to visit Hawkeye. Louise is doing charities around Bern, helping Seras, Legault, and the Prince Zekiel. The King was killed last year, I believe." Blinking, from his position on the bed, facing away from the two adults in the room, Reka began understanding that he was eavesdropping on his mother and their visitor that could possibly be his father if that had been indeed just a dream.

"Reka should go see them. Y'know just to see them." The boy wanted to raise his head and ask who he should go see but he had no idea. He knew that if he did that they wouldn't talk anymore and he would not get another chance like this to listen in on a conversation of his mother's.

"Serra…….." She raised her head in question.

"Yes?"

"I want to be his father." Reka sighed inwardly towards both relief and disappointment. He would like Erk to be his father for the man already acted like his father almost except for the man's inane idea of bathing every day. The boy breathed in easily, until his mother replied.

"You are." He couldn't deny it now. His mother never really lied to anyone, not even Reka for his own interests. She would simply tell him that he was crossing some sort of invisible line that his mother had. He felt his heart stop as the two adults continued on with their lengthy discussion.

"No, I want to be able to be there for him the entirety of his life. I want to take responsibility for him."

"Why?"

"I love him. He's a darling child of a union I didn't know we had till you left. I want to take responsibility since that day you took the responsibility away from me." The pupil felt slightly awkward. So his father did love him and it was his mother's fault he had no father for the first six or seven years of his life.

"I……"

"What?"

"I can't tell you if you can or can't………"

"Why not?"

"Ultimately, Erk, it will be Reka's choice." Reka was glad for this. He could then tell Erk before his mother would tell him. He wanted so badly to scream now as he searched for a way to calmly put his beating heart to a calming lull of sleep.

"Tell him the truth, Serra."

"I will…….."

"Soon."

"When we get to Ostia, he will know the truth."

"Thank you, Serra."

"……..That……" She was surprised. Erk was actually grateful for something that she had done? She pinched herself lightly on the cheek as she looked over at Erk with wide oculars meant for a deer that had just been spotted in the flare lights of a light spell.

"What?" He blinked for a few moments, wondering at her gaping, wide-eyed self had to be so surprised about.

"That's the first time you ever, ever said thank you to me!"

"Serra!"

"I…..I'm so sorry, Erk! I…I was just so….happy…."

"Whatever, Serra….." He cared. He really did care as she had hugged onto him, rubbing her face against his cheek and everything. Deep down, he realized that he did love her, though a little voice in his mind caused him to hide his blush and the small ember that was beginning to burst into a bonfire in his heart.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

AN: OMG! I UPDATED::Dodges pencils and other thrown objects: FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING SOOOO LONG! I got reaaaally lazy at the end of the chapter because I just wanted to finish with the dialougue! IT took me so long to decide how Serra's return should be like! I feel like slamming my head in a wall for how long it took!

FORGIVE ME DEAR FANS OF DRUNKEN LULLABY! I SHALL CRY TEARS OF PAIN FOR YOU!

Okay, please REVIEW!


	9. Journey to the Past

Drunken Lullaby : An Erk and Serra Story:

Chapter 8: Journey to the Past

"_One Step at a time_

_One hope then another_

_Who knows where this road may go?_

_Back to who I was_

_Onto find my future"_

_-Aaliyah 'Journey to the Past'_

Disclaimer: I do not own the songs I use except for the songs by Kuri and I do not own Fire Emblem.

LLLLLLLLLL

She sighed as she looked over to her sleeping child, guilt wrecking her mind every time she decided a thought was in order. They were to leave soon to go to a home that she no longer deserved to visit.

Sitting there, looking at a mass of lavender tresses, Serra couldn't help what her mind called apprehension and guilt. She was guilty of a lot of things and didn't deserve the chance to be given such an opportunity with Reka's father. Her mind closed to the secret possibility that she had in her mind of Erk finally confessing that he forgave her vices and decided she was worthy enough to love and maybe, if she was super lucky in her day dreams, married.

She wanted him. Every night that she had been gone up in the highlands, she constantly thought of the two men in her life. She had wondered desperately if they were getting along but due to Reka's potent sleep, she hadn't heard what Reka really thought of his father, Master Sage Erk of Eturia.

When Reka had woken up only a few hours ago, he was a bit pensive for such a young countenance that Serra could've sworn to the Saint above that he was Erk for only a second. His eyes were downcast into thought before he was brought out of his reverie, hugging his mother, genuinely missing her with his strength. He had went to sleep once more after breakfast, getting ready to go on the road that night.

They had chosen night to be the easiest time to leave for Serra wanted to have her work done for the day and waiting till the morning usually meant that someone was going to need her for the next instant or other things. She never liked having the village be so resolute on her, using her as a crutch sometimes.

She had told Klaja the mayor and baker that afternoon that she was leaving the village though she might be back soon or not. The mayor was the kindest person she knew of except for Lucius. The bishop's memories of her older companion made her smile in secret as Erk paused at the doorway to the cottage, seeing the genuine smile upon her visage becoming torn between asking a copper for her thoughts and ruining the thoughtful moment.

To the image that he didn't want to ruin, he walked away with a saddlebag hanging onto his shoulder, wondering why he thought of her as a no one in the first place. Maybe she was more grown up as it seemed that Reka had done more than enough by settling the fire-spirited young lady he had once ventured with to the fire-willed woman that was looking over the boy with such complete love.

Was that what a real mother showed her child?

He nearly choked on that thought as it formed into his mind. It had indeed been a long time since he had to deal with the memories of his haunted childhood that did not deserve to be remembered. He didn't want to see those eyes at the orphanage he was from again. It was not as if he didn't want to see the people, he just did not want to see that defeated look in their eyes as he once did a long, long time ago.

Hells below, he barely remembered his playmates from the rundown old shack they had lived in. All he could remember was the mind numbing times he reached for a piece of food or for the fire in the shack to never be warm or never be fed enough. He ate what he got but he was never able to eat anymore than a small amount of food from the poorness of their caretaker.

He remembered the gentle bishop who was ordained to their city for the orphanage right after the war and the plagues that had nearly ripped Lycia apart at the seams. He couldn't remember his parents at all for they had been killed right before him when he was only a toddler. Presenting the saddlebags to his horse, he wrapped the straps properly, autopilot overriding his fingers as if he were some electronically charged toy.

He was remembering the bishop's eyes and face when he began to notice that the visage of his caretaker was that of Serra's resemblance. He blinked, realizing that the woman was an exact replica of Serra only older looking than Serra ever looked. The caretaker though had died a year before he had run away from the dismal place.

Why was he seeing this now? He decided once he could that he was going to ask Serra about her real parents if she could remember. He was now overtly curious about everything about the woman named Serra. He knew what she was, but he didn't know who she was. Who was Serra to him if she never had showed him how she was?

Had the gently bishop been his one-night stand's mother? He sighed as he remembered the kind woman in his memory. After she had died and once was easily replaced by a harsh drunkard that had seemed too kind in the eyes of Saint Elimine, Erk only shrunk in comparison to the memories that often came back to him of that horrid man.

He didn't realize it, but he was happy that Reka at least had his mother with him when he was born. He wondered how his bright seed would understand that his parents had loved him when he couldn't recall them. Had he, himself, wondered it so many times before? Erk tugged a little more on the strong leather strap to affirm himself of his belief.

He wanted Serra to know about the bishop. He also wanted Serra to realize that he wanted to be there for her.

But what did he want from her?

All of these thoughts were stifling causing him to start looking grim as the reaper of life, Morhigan, Elimine's sister. As Louise would have said to him that he used his brains too much. It was very true of him but would Serra have it any other way of him?

"Erk? Are you all right?" His purple head swerved upward in surprise as he had not heard a sound from around him to tell him of her coming. Serra always trodded like a loud attack dog rather than a cat that could slink around in silence. He could remember the battle before Serra had left, Matthew, Wil, Serra, and himself had been sent as a scouting set ahead of the rest of the team. The trio of men had asked a million gifts of silence for Serra's loud rambunctious enthusiasium and her loud feet. It was a wonder they hadn't been caught really.

"Serra……." He nodded in a general acknowledgement, turning his attention back to his saddle bags, the sense of having his soul examined at his back. He wanted to hide, desperately from her gaze for now since she had come back, it cooled and warmed him at the same time. He was wondering if he was going insane.

That was when things turned out for possibly the worst and probably yet the best for this little journey of theirs.

The healer stared at him for a few seconds trying to decide what was wrong with Erk. His cheeks were slightly flushed and he seemed cold and almost ghastly clammy at the same time as if he was in such a fright. Coming out of the silouhette of moon and the door, she stepped closer, much closer than either appreciated really.

A tentative hand reached out, touching his brow with warm fingers of the living spring of St. Elimine's truth. He could not help but notice their close apporximity. His hands falling limp at his side, clenched into fists so that his dreams would not be enacted as they often had been.

"Erk! You look sick! You shouldn't be so worried! Reka's just sleeping off his cold. I knew he'd get one soon. He sort of just suddenly gets sick when the weather turns and autumn's just around the corner. Well, anyway, he'll get better within the week. I gave him a draught of some catnip and turkey. Best thing for people who can't sleep. They fall off the bandwagon quicker than flies. Especially since I make the best draughts ever. You should hear some of the people around town talk abou-" It was funny to watch her speak, chest heaving, brushing against his as she looked at him with a worried frown marring her almost child-like features. He could not raise his eyes to hers for he knew the pull would be too strong, but when she commented on her making the best draught ever, he stared astonished. This was the Serra he had known, the one he had unknowingly pushed away. She looked so buoyant, exicted, and determined that he had lost himself to her powers.

His arms lost their battle and so did his mind. Fingers grasped a firm yet soft linen-clothed body, the brocade of her tabard stiff against his own velvet and linen clad body, helping to hide a certain friend of his. His face fiercely interfering with the woman's bubble, poking into it so far that his lips were roguishly taking a treasured possession of hers.

Her words were lost upon her lips as a soft almost like a stargazer lily's pair of petals fell upon hers with a fierceness of possession and need. He wanted this feeling to prevail as the woman nearly crumbled into his waiting arms, grasping onto his strong shoulders, stronger than her legs at least for the moment. Her skin was stiff yet flowing, hot and at the same time cold. A storm of emotions took her and yet she was certain of what any pertained to be labled as.

"Serra, shut up." Needing to breathe, not only for himself, a satisfied smirk crossed his petal-like lips, soft, graceful with a sense of nobility in the tone. She stared, wide-eyed as she was worried what would happen next. She complied only briefly when he started a new assault on her castle.

Saint above, he wanted her dearly now, body, mind, and most of all, soul. Just a feeling of those lips and he wanted too much. She was a poison to his system that needed to be avoided and not craved for he would surely kill himself from the very seconds it took for her to show that she needed him to back off.

He wanted. Oh, how he wanted the one thing he could never have. Serra was a holy woman, a woman of a certain honor that he had tainted once before. He didn't want to taint her honor a second time. Saint Elimine, preserve him from this hunger, he almost cried out in the night but the plea stayed within his mind as he numbly pulled away from the addictive drug of the now tainted Serra.

"Erk………?" Just the question and the flicker of hurt he saw in those eyes were enough to make him cry. He had caused that! He wanted nothing more than to feel her lips enveloped into his, drowned into a thing so natural between two lovers that he knew that he would not and most of all could not proceed with. He felt like such a fifteen year old again.

"…….Mama?" Serra felt herself almost drop from surprise as she turned around red-faced to her son who stared at the couple. His eyes were wide and unblinking, unflinching from the sight of the two as they stood side by side, one in deep contemplation and focus and the other too surprised to say anything really.

"Yes, Reka?" The bishop finally found words for her mouth to speak, ignoring an earlier command made in a more passionate tone a mere few seconds before her trespassing child came into their stable. She smiled, turning towards Reka from her position in front of Erk.

"What do I need to pack?" Reka stared unsure of what exactly he was staring at. His mother's features were flushed against the moonlight that showed all of her visage to his young and naïve eyes. She seemed sick and yet he knew his mother to be one of the healthiest people on all of Elibe.

"Oh, don't worry, I had Erk do to do your packing. Why don't you help him, Reka, now that you feel better anyway?" Her smile turned to be genuine as she stepped to the side to show Reka a better view of Erk; his face was the same color, maybe even a slightly brighter red than that of his mother's featuers.

"Okay!" Not coming out with his own knowledge, Reka let his ideas sit as he watched Erk nod, only shying slightly away from his mother as the sage pressed on towards the boy, taking him by the shoulder, gently back to the house.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

It had nearly been a week on the road through to the border of Laus that they finally arrived at a station that marked the near end of their travels. It would be a few more days until they got to Ostia as Erk had predicted when they left the comfortable village to the dust of the road. The anonymity helped them considering that bandits saw that the entire group was rather dressed in pilgrimage clothing that were sacred. No bandit disrespected the pilgrimages really. It was one of the few sacred things they held still.

To Reka's own observations, the traveling wasn't the boring part. His mother and Master Sage Erk were the boring part. They were uncomfortable around each other and increasingly so around him though they tried their best at polite conversation. He was sure that his mother felt some strange fever for whenever Erk looked at her or they were caught staring at one another or accidently brushing their fingers, she darkened her rosy cheeks.

But it was on this day that something made a turn for the worse. His mother was arguing with Erk over which roads they should take, one of the few things she seemed to be willing to fight for now. Looking over towards the other end of the crossroads, Reka's eyes widened. There was a procession going towards Ostia, he supposed, but it looked as if there were many reasons for the train of people to look so abundant and happy.

"Hail there! Well met, tra-" One of them had spotted them, a bow slung over their shoulder with a quiver at their waist. The person's hair reminded him of a bird's nest as unkept as it was. His greeting cut short as a green blue passed in front of Reka's young eyes to the horse beside him which carried his mother.

"My FAIR LADY!" Reka blinked, noticing the man with blond hair falling in such a carefree way that he wanted to know if the man woke up like that. The only thing that Reka could come close to describing the man was the fact that he immediately disliked him. The aura around the man seemed to make him want to puke. Even more, the man was holding his mother's fingers in his gauntleted grasp.

"Who?" Uttering his own question, he looked to Erk who seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek and keeping his anger in check. There was a slight gleam of possessiveness in Erk's eyes as he watched the green armored freak touch his charge. A bit of a growl escaped the sage as the green-armored man began to speak.

"My fair woman, it is I, your champion, Sir Sain of the Lyndis's Legion! You must be terrified for your Sir Sain has not been by your side nor in your arms at night!" So the idiot had a name? Reka's mind blinked as he contemplated whether or not this was the Sain from the legends that his mother told him at least once a night. That was when his mind clicked his words, linking the connections together.

"Sain….?" Serra blinked, trying to get her fingers away from the bruising grasp of the much taller Sain, his warhorse bigger than her simple bay gelding. The beast at least gave him a much bigger appearance though she knew his real height was only a foot taller than her back when she was still in the army of Ostia.

"Sain, get your hands off of Serra!" Not being able to contain his anger and jealousy even more, knowing that Sain's hands were not worthy of even touching a dainty hair on Serra's head, also knowing she was trying to get away and his own possessiveness, he put his beautiful mare between the two. The horse and himself rode in front Sain, forcing the knight to separate his fingers, and crushing grasp from his unfortunate victim.

"LADY SERRA?" Sain stared awed and also astonished that this seemingly older and more mature woman was the childish youth that he had paid so much attention to about eight years ago, when he was no more out of the womb than she. He now realized if that were the truth of the matter she would be only a year younger than him, about the ripe age of twenty-three to be precise.

"Well, met, Sain." Her grin brought him out of his surprise as he realized how much she could simply twist his heart, not to mention rise his sexual organs to attention, as he stared at the matured version of a pink angel.

"……….Who are you?" Reka, trying to break the stare from his mother, angry at the man's wrong attention to her. Trying to gain some semblance of calmness, he was paying as dearly as his unknown father. Biting his tongue from saying something scathing to the vagabond that dared to touch his mother's hand was costing him his patience and he had a lot of that to expend enough to last so long.

"Ahh! This young whelp of a child needs to know the legendary tales of Sain! Let me tell you all about me. My name is Sir Sain and that lovely woman sitting in that Palanquin is my liege, the extremely beautiful Lady Lyndis of Caelin!" He blinked, watching the idiot of a man, a man Reka despise almost fill him with awe and surprise.

"Oh, my saint! MOM! We're talking with LYNDIS'S LEGION! MOM!" He pointed at the now very pleased Sain, holding his head with a fore finger and thumb in thought, arrogant as all things could be, while Erk looked on with the contemplation of wanting to bash his head in.

'How the Saint loves us……' His thoughts cringed as he thought of his run of bad luck. Now they had run into Lyndis's traveling party. He hoped to the Saint above that none of them would insist on going to Ostia with them if they were going that way. He took another look at the love-struck Sain and prayed with much more fervor in his mind.

"You didn't know that you're mother was once in Lyndis's legion? She was one of the most important members of our group!" To this remark, Serra wanted to slam her head into a rock and let Erk fry her, after Reka stopped being so awe-struck with the annoying green knight.

"Wow, Sain! Look at the sun! We have to leave, like now! Come along, Reka! Stop playing with the insane knight! Come along! Time we go to Ostia now!" Deciding that Sain was already taking too much time and giving out too much information for her comfort or Erk's for that matter, Serra began to tug her son's filly showing an urgency that belied her discomfort.

"You're going to Ostia, also? Travel with us, Lady Serra! I am sure we can spare a tent for you and your family. I didn't know that you had tied the knot with our esteemed Master Sage here though, My lady Serra. You two always were the chummiest of pals together in our adventures! Though you did leave in the middle of our campaign……..Why di-" She wanted to die. Erk was going to kill Sain and then her just to appease his anger from the Saint above. Simply deciding her fate was against her wishes, Serra felt the oncoming headache with mere hope that she would get knocked out quicker than she could find a vulenary.

"Sain, some things are not meant to be pried into. Leave Serra alone." Glaring with his dark eyes, Erk noticed that the pink haired devil looked as if she were about to try and knock herself out. He frowned as he reached over and slipped a hand through hers, the motion undetected by both child and cocky knight.

"Lady Serra and Lord Erk?" Serra felt his hand, the alabaster skin contrasting with her slightly more robust and darker peach skin and the thousands of pricks she felt. Her breath seemed as if it couldn't be any harder to breathe out and her mind felt like it was spinning! Wasn't she over Erk! Why was she feeling this way about him? Thankfully, she noticed the rest of Lyndis's legion. Then again, she wasn't so thankful though it was nice she supposed as she watched them approach to see their faces.

"Master Destin! Lady Lyndis! Sir Kent! Sir Wil! Sir Rath!" Calling out to them, moreso as an escape from Sain's mutterings about his valiant life-threatening adventures as a knight of Caelin, Serra noticed their maturity. She was willing to think that Sain, however, had not grown up one bit.

"This certainly is a surprise to see you, Lady Serra! Where have you been? When you deserted the campaign years ago, Seras was so distraught over your disappearance!" Erk could feel the tenseness from her hand, cringing as her fingers tightened onto his, locked with the grip of an ogre. Massaging the back of her hand with a thumb, he gave her a glance of neither pity nor anything he could name so well.

The being that had spoken was Wil, the archer companion from her years before Reka's birth. The talkative and quite amiable young man had matured with the glee that his voice projected. He seemed to just generally be happier than anything else in the world, tossled hair, and frankly joyful brown eyes appraised her.

"That's because she had to deal with Lady Priscilla, Wil. Master Erk and you got married then?" A noble sitting upon a horse, riding beside the walking archer, rose an eyebrow at the four people, more towards Serra and Erk than Reka and the still spouting Sain. His brown hair fell in his eyes, which if Serra remembered correctly, were a light green color. Looking over the royal blue and dark clothing, she spotted the pendant. That was Destin, Lord Hausen's tactician or rather ex-tactician if she heard right a year or so ago.

"Lady Serra….." Rath surprised her as he had not seemed to age a bit. His face was still so stern and serious that Serra barely noticed the small twitch of his lip. He was a small bit happy to see the joyful expression on Lyndis's face then, at least as far as Serra thought.

"How're you doing, Serra? It is rather grand to see you!" Serra smiled at the lord with every ounce of sincerity and amusement. The bladed warrior did not look so happy in her palanquin though she tried to show her happiness to seeing Serra. The woman was decorated head to toe in grandeur as she was acting more in her noble status than the warrior one she preferred.

The ex-bishop just knew that the woman was uncomfortable as hell to be sitting on a moving beast than on her own two feet. Serra did have to admit begrudgingly that Lyn was more beautiful than she last remembered her. The woman held an air of regality while still seeming as if she was not afraid to get her hand dirtied by the peasantry. She was the type of noble every peasant would want.

"……Serra." Kent was the last one to welcome her. A single efficient grace of his head down and up was all he needed as he returned his gaze towards the land surrounding his liege. The Crimson Shield had held up with a small goatee sprouting from his chin, something red seeming to brush his armor. The only real difference that she could see besides that was a headband that definitely was something he never would wear.

A flash of inspiration and the smoothing gesture from Erk's thumb seem to hit the proverbial nail on the head. That bandanna was Fiora's!

"Um…..hehehhh…..I'll explain everything later to you, Lady Lyndis! There was a thing that had happened and I had to leave for reasons pertaining to that thing…..uh, yeah….Anyway, Erk and I aren't married at all. Not even engaged. He's escorting us to Ostia. Part of a job and all that! You know, what he was doing when we first met!" Stuttering around for an answer, Serra tried her best delay tactic by putting on a cute yet seemingly ashamed face and bowing, trying her best to look innocent. When she bowed she looked to her hands to see that one was still holding onto Reka's reins and the other was still being held in a comforting grip by her favorite sage in the world.

"Oh, if that's the case, Lady Serra! I will be willing to share my tent with your esteemed and lovely presence along with your charming son." The ex-cleric could feel her jaw tighten in anger as she checked herself quickly for twitches. She felt Erk's grip tighten, his eyes glowering with daggers shooting out of them. If Erk was a superhero of some sort with beams out of his eyes, She could be sure that Erk would be having toasted Sain for lunch. The only question was why was Erk glowering at Sain with such vehemence as the green knight turned his adoring gaze upon her?

"Yes, it will be quite an explanation, I bet." Lyn's eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the linked hands between Serra and Erk. The bladed woman had to admit that Serra had matured more in the years she had known her than the months she had spent with her. It seemed as if she simply were more settled.

Erk had grown more than in the five years she had last seen him. His hair was up in a bun, some of the hair falling in gentle waves down his back. He was paler and much more thinner than Lyndis remembered. She wondered if he ate anymore than he had at his visit in Caelin. Shrugging that thought away, she saw the small child beside Serra on the pony. His hair was a lighter purple and he seemed to be an exact replica of Erk except for the hair.

"Oh! Who is this with you Serra?" Wil beat her to the punch, yet again. The boy in question rose his face in question, his skin more vibrant than Erk's and definitely more rosy as the attentions of the legion turned to him, seeming to swarm the boy with their large presences. Reka never knew another time that he wanted to bury his head in the sand but right now was that time. With a small 'eep' he began edging his pony closer to his mother's gelding.

"This is my son, Reka." Laughing, Serra looked at her son with much affection that Reka started getting even more embarrassed. Holding onto his mother's arm, he leaned over, burrowing into her arm to hide, his lashes shut as he tried his best not to feel so embarressed.

"WHAT!"

The silence hung in the air as Serra left a rather dazzling smile on her face with Erk's hands tightening on her delicate fingers, not wanting to let her go. His tense look seemed to silence Lyndis as she began to speak, a question forming on her lips to fall away at the severity of the look he was giving her.

"This is not a time to speak lest we dine to have vagabonds around our respectable parties, Lady Lyndis. We must get to moving on our path to Ostia." Understanding, the brunette tactician stepped his horse up a pace, looking back to the gaudily-clothed noble with a bit of warning in his face as well. Conveying his apprehension, he turned his face to start going when Sain began to speak.

"Lady Serra is going to Ostia as well! IT would be better if we all went together like some big parade of some sort. The grandeur of our ladies beauty will resound in the streets of Ostia when we enter! It will be a glorious way to show the world the beauty of Caelin and her men!" Sain's mare led him to the palanquin by his liege as he begged her. His adoring green eyes making Lyndis nearly melt as she fought off his charm. She had to admit that Sain knew how to turn his charm on, even on her when she was mostly immune to the lecherous green knight.

"Especially Sir Sain's beauty, right?" Destin cut in. His eyes looked at the green knight in a more skeptic light than a few moments before. A scathing comment was more than what was wanted as Kent flipped his attentions from guarding to listening to this conversation. It was known that Destin highly disliked Sain though he could not help his admission that Sain was a good warrior. The only real reason Destin hadn't liked Sain as much as he probably would have was due to the amount of chasing the green knight had done to his younger sister, using the same amount of fervor to chase Serra now. The other thing was the fact that Sain used his knight status much like a double-agent using his employers. Sain loved getting the glory, the women, and the booze. Not much would not stop him from liking it if he was able to get it.

"Lord Destin, please do not be all assuming that I would take that grand party as my own means. If people think I am dashing then I humbly accept those graces of love they lavish me with!" The tactician of Caelin got out of Sain's tentative arm that was wrapped around his shoulder. Counting to ten before he spoke out in anger or mere scathing, Master Destin promptly removed the arm to only have it replaced, a glower set upon his stern lips.

"Sain…what people is it that you speak of really? Last I checked…those taverns that we stayed at? Let's just say that Kent and I had a bloody good time making sure that the wench you thought was…hitting on you, well, we had a good time making sure that you didn't do anything stupid anyway. I'll leave the rest to your imagination, as much as I will later regret doing so." Sain's eyes retained a dreamy quality as he reminisced about the acquaintance they had started talking about. He could remember her lime hair, much like the beautiful Rebecca's and her prominent chin. She looked masculine yet feminine and he had tried all night to get her into his bed, but due to Kent and Destin he hadn't been able to because of tasks that only he could hold out.

"She was a grand sight for these tired eyes of the everyday women from the usual taverns in Caelin. She sure had a prominent air about her, did she not?" Wil had a wry smile on his face as Sain extolled the virtue of a powerful woman, mentioning Lyndis in the same category causing Rath to frown a little, a small turn of his lip and a furrow of his eyebrows to show such.

"………Yes. She was such a man." Master Destin and Kent couldn't help cracking smiles while the rest of the party except for Serra, Reka, Erk, and Rath started laughing. Sain only stared with interest, wondering if Destin was mocking him or not.

"Master Destin!" Reprimanding the tactician, Sir Kent had to look the other way when he started to feel the smile slip away from his façade of indifference. He was secretly laughing as he turned away from the bewildered Sain and the stratagist, trying his best not to laugh.

"Master Destin, I believe we can continue this later as interesting as this sounds. Let us go on our way together. Is that all right, Serra?" Covering her mouth with her hand, Lyndis could only let the suggestion roll after a few moments of calming herself. It was highly unladylike to laugh at her knight's misfortune. Or rather, she thought it was unladylike to laugh at some one's misfortune though she could remember the man at the last tavern. He was definitely more of a man than the woman he was trying to portray.

"Let us go then." Serra seemed to hang her head in defeat, watching her hand connected to Erk's hand. He still hadn't let go and she finally realized that her face was growing hot not from embarrassment but from the mere touch that Erk was holding with her, flush features on both their faces.

"Mom, you knew the Lycian League?" Taking this opportunity as the lord's traveling party began their procession once more, Reka turned towards his mother who held her head to her saddle, unknowingly wondering if she would ever forget those hands of Erk's and what exactly they could do. Raising her head, a smidgen of movement to her side, she looked blankly at her son before recognition began to fill in.

"Yes. I once traveled with them." Deciding an ambiguous answer was better than an outright lie, she hoped that Reka would read only a little into it or whatever he wished. She hoped he wouldn't comment anymore but that was like asking the sun to not shine and Elimine knew the sun would always shine somewhere in the world.

"But……they personally know you!" His eyebrows were knitted in confusion. From what he'd gathered by paying attention to the conversation, he'd learned his mother left the campaign, Erk and her had a past, and that Sain might have a potential attraction of a man which nearly caused him to choke in disbelief as the tactician had implied. Lest to say, he wasn't learning everything he could. Then it hit him. Why not just ask Erk directly? The sage had answered almost every question of his and didn't like to lie, especially to him.

"It will be a tale of another time, Reka. It is something your mother is not willing to discuss and I ask that we respect her wishes." Shutting his mouth before letting out his question in front of his mother and the sage, Reka gave one more pitiful look as his mother and Erk seemed to share a moment between them, both of their eyes connecting to only disconnect at what seemed to be the last possible second.

Reka had a feeling that maybe St. Elimine was hearing his prayers and giving him a father soon.

LLLLLLLL

He had spent most of the time that first day traveling alongside his known parent, hearing stories of majestic proportions from the archer who had called himself Wil. He had been telling Serra what had been going on in Caelin, their home, while completely losing Reka every once in awhile. There were a whole lot of names that he mentioned that the young boy had no idea of.

Finally, seeing Erk towards the back of their caravan of people, Reka mentioned something about going to him to his mother. Nodding her consent, he turned his horse towards the lone sage, clopping as he trotted lightly to the back. Looking up to the sound of approaching horse shoes, Erk seemed to smile softly at his unknown son.

When the child slowed his horse to a small walk, he pressed his horse close to Erk's. The two brown horses eased themselves into familiarity. The fledging took on an air of secrecy as he leaned slightly forward as if drawn to Erk through his presence alone.

"Master Erk? Could I ask you a question?" his voice was low, almost causing Erk to lose all hope of hearing the boy clearly. But his hearing had always been the best out of most of the scouts in any of the campaigns, especially compared to Serra's. Spirits above, he had to wonder how that woman ever could spot a thing during her campaign seasons.

"You've asked two, Reka." Stating a fact, Erk really hoped he wasn't going to be put into a tight spot like the few weeks before in the cottage amongst the trees and garden. He really hoped so. He didn't have many more excuses from the curious child the he wanted to use.

Reka shook his cranium of hair and decided at best to ignore the rather sarcastic remark. He had heard worse come from Erk so far. The sage, as he could tell, was not a big group person. He seemed uncomfortable in large crowds while a small crowd or one on one never seemed to bother him. Maybe he was claustrophobic.

"Are you my father?" The sage almost fell out of his saddle, his fingers clutching tight to the leather horn as his visage slipped away into disbelief. This boy was a little too perceptive, but then again that was a strong point and a weak point with the child. He knew that the next shrine to St. Elimine that he was going to pray heartily instead of being the blasphemous sage he had been. Maybe Elimine was getting back at him.

"……..eh….." Either that or Lady Luck just downright hated him.

"I overheard you and mama talking. I don't want to lose you if you're my father." Reka's eyes showered with something hidden in them akin to determination, a factor that he saw more in Serra's eyes than anyone else's. The darkened look made a promise into reality. He would live with this child as far as he knew. There was no other choice for him.

"……….I can't tell you." Unsettled, the sage tried to look away from his son, heart hammering from his near getaway answer to the child. However, he quickly saw that his troubles were only getting worse. The dark-haired tactician sidled up on his other side, the one currently unhindered by Reka's gelding.

"Huh…great way to end an awkward situation Master Erk…I think we all want to know now what the actual answer is. Besides…I'm sure I can think of "ways" to persuade you to answer truthfully." Lord Talunis wore his bearing with the royalty that he was as he approached seeming as if he was perhaps not a common man to be around. In all truth, Erk knew he wasn't really a regal person. Destin was more of a thinker than a socializing noble and always more down to earth and friendly with those he considered his friends.

"Destin!" Reka assumed that his father was used to this air of regality that he wasn't sure that the tactician knew he was putting on or not. The man smiled, a loping smirk falling off his lips onto his visage, half-way hidden amongst brunette bangs. Reka didn't know how else to describe this man as he approached.

"Yes, that's my name. Don't change it." His reply was self-assured, nonchalant as his manner seemed, yet there was something that set Reka off. He liked the man and yet he didn't. It was hard to say why. Maybe his mother or his father would understand why.

"I forgot to introduce you two! This is Reka, Serra and a mage's son. Reka, this is a good acquaintance of mine named Destin Talunis from the famous Talunis family of tacticians we discussed in your mother's absence." Astonished at his forgetfulness to his first fledgling, Erk's eyes seemed to brighten with a slight tinge of red to his face, an entire forgotten amount of pixie dust upon his cheeks. A wry smile was upon his lips as he motioned towards his son and the tactician, introducing the two.

"Hmm…and your apprentice as well unless I'm mistaken. Master Erk, when we break for camp tonight, may I talk to you in private? I feel like we have much to catch up on in the years of your absence from your studies in Eturia. It is grand to meet you, young fledging. I am sure Erk will spill his gourd of beans now that I am here." The man nodded his head towards Reka, but otherwise, his notice of the child was little. Destin had no time for children, except if they were his neice and nephew from his sister in Bern.

"You could always see right through me like Serra. Saints above help that woman." Erk, seemed at ease with the other young man. Destin was barely younger than he was now in his mid-twentieth winter. Their camadarie had been easy to forge when Destin had long asked Erk to instruct him in some of the stronger magics when the first campaign had been over, Serra's employment having been a constant side effect of that quest long ago.

"It is nice to meet you as well, Master Destin. But are you my father, Master Erk?" Not put off for a second, Reka frowned as he bowed his head in respect to the elder man, acknowledging that the man was of some higher class than the young pupil. Turning his dark eyes back to the matter on hand, Reka's lips let the frown linger as he put all his intensity towards his father from his eyes.

Erk blinked, mouth gaping open much like a fish, switching views from his son to his ex-stratagist every five seconds or so. Cursing at the spirits, he groaned, knowing that Reka wasn't about to give up anytime soon and that Destin wouldn't either.

Someone up there really hated him.

"……Yes…..But your mother may not know that you know. She would skin my hide and serve me to the soldiers." Giving in, Erk gave his fiercest look, throwing his mind into the task of trying to look as severe as possible, more like Vaida than anyone else he knew. However to Reka and Destin, he looked much like a roughed up nobleman.

Dismissing the severe look as Erk's high disapproval to telling him, more than the threat that it was trying to be to the young sorcerer, Reka reached over with a hand, grasping the sage's hand with a smile that brightened his face considerably.

"Thank you! This means so much to me!" The sage looked down towards the euphoric cherub, or rather the troublesome rascal, and could not help but feel a light-heartedness tug at his bones, loosening up his face muscles to slip in a small smile.

"Shhh! We don't want your mother to know!" Erk placed a tentative finger to his lips, gesturing for them to keep it a secret. Reka imitated his finger placement by taking his small hand from Erk's and raising it to his smaller lips, a cheeky smile appearing upon his visage, a fox's grin if there ever were one.

"Of course, she won't……I promise." Destin watched this display with a general lack of compassion. It wasn't as if Destin never felt touched by emotion such as this heartwarming regalia of a father and son, he was just mostly out of touch with those feelings. His whole family had mostly been like that except for his sister, Remiel, who had been the one to continue their line as Seras and him were not 'parent' material and the other two in their family were dead from the war a near decade ago.

"Somehow, I dearly think he's got something going on his noggin just like Serra always had, the troublemaker that woman was." The child reminded him of a sphinx, except without the different bodies made into one. Erk's light-heartedness made the tactician wonder what it would be like to be around someone that could cause such a serious stick in the mud to lighten up. For him, he knew of only one person that could do that and currently, as he had heard from his sister, she was in Bern, teaching archery at a local archery academy.

"But Seras did love her." It was indeed the truth when his sister had become aquainted with flighty cleric years ago. Seras Talunis found it hard to form a friendship with other women due to her problematic dominance issues. She was more of a man than a woman in her mannerisms because of her very determined and almost outrageous stubborn views. Most men thought she was too much of a shrew and women usually thought she was being a silly girl for challenging men in wits.

However, Seras had found that Serra was not one of those women. It was a rather intimate detail, but Destin had picked up on it from her letters to him during her campaigning years. Seras admired Serra's strength.

"As did some others I know of, Master Erk." Keeping his voice vague, Destin left a rather cryptic and unknowing smile upon his lips, mystifying and intriguing his quarry to continue on with him.

"Let us tell our tales as he we travel, eh, Destin?" Getting the hint, Reka and Erk began their weeklong travel with the party of Lyndis's legion at their side.

LLLLLLLLLLLL

It had been half the week before anything remarkable happened. Reka was sick of traveling by then and really wanted to just go to bed in a regular bed. His mother, Erk, and himself had been given a tent for themselves to use, along with a two cots. Usually Reka ended up sleeping with his mother but sometimes, during the night when his mother was drop-dead asleep, he would wander over and sleep with his father. It wasn't really a habit as much as it was a necessity that he share a bed with a parent. He just preferred having his mother's or his father's arms around him.

Speaking of his father, they hadn't talked about him being Reka's parent yet, though Reka supposed he didn't want to really blame him. Tonight was different though, he wanted to act on some sort of retaliation against Sain's attentions on his mother and from Erk's eyes, so did he.

Ever since they had accidently ran into Lyndis's legion, Sain had been fawning over the earth his mother walked on making Reka a very angry kid simply because he disliked the man. Sighing again, watching the fire, Reka began blowing at his bangs, noting how long they were before he saw a familiar face in front of him. Gaping in surprise, he watched the man come into full view.

"Hello!" A cheerful and quite absent voice seemed to echo at their campfire, a merry twinkle in the tall traveler's eye as he came into view in front of Destin, the tactician sitting beside his father talking hushed whispers, and his father, staring much like he had been doing a moment before.

"Legault!" The tactician allowed a gentle smile press upon his lips, bangs swept out of his face by a dark royal blue headband that Lady Lyndis had given him a day before. Getting up, the stratagist embraced the taller man, fervently trying his best to make sure the man didn't have his daggers near his back.

Much earlier in the year, Destin had threatened Legault with death with something having to do with his younger sister. In the return answer, the witty and ever sneaking thief had said something much to not before I stab you in the back sort of deal. Now there was a lot of uneasiness about that, the tension in the air having gone taut to only relax as they took in each other at arm's length.

"Brother Destin! Seras sends her greetings!" The widening smile told little to Destin as he was reassured about his sister's safety, which to him was a priority if nothing else was except for a certain archer woman and his liege of course! The lavender-haired man began sitting down next to Reka, smiling for the whole world to only get unsettled by the next question fired at him.

"Where is she?" Looking around to the other two campfires they had, he did not notice his ever emotion-throwing sister. Seras certainly couldn't be in trouble, now could she? He decided not to answer that as he stared, trying to pierce through to the darkness and mystery that was Legault.

"She's busy as always now that she's got a few new problems." He grinned, lavacious with his words, an unkindness that Destin never had liked well about the potent thief. He never really understood why his sister had fallen in love with such a mysterious and annoying man. In all truth, Destin had never been more annoyed than by having a conversation with Legault.

"New problems?"

"Yes. Well, except for the morning sickness she has nowadays. Oh, is that young Reka I see?" Legault looked over to the pint-sized clone of the sage sitting beside the boy. Destin slowly sat down, getting comfortable once more as he began watching his brother-in-law's movements with the precision of a stratagist. Knowing one's enemy was one thing, knowing one's ally was a different thing. Destin hardly knew what side Legault had always been on.

"Yes, Sir." Reka smiled at the elder man, a gentle relief compared to Mr. Serious-stick-up-the-butt, and Mr. Royal-air. Legault really took notice of how tall Reka was, making a silent prediction that would more than likely come true as if he could see into the future like that hag, Hannah, or those dragons, Ninian and Nils. He had always disliked auguries but predictions made by normal people were all right with him, besides he preferred gambling his chances.

"Don't sir me, boy. There's no reason to treat your uncle in such a manner. So did you and Serra marry?" Patting the youngling's head, Legault watched as Erk seemed startled at his approach. He didn't know why. He had always been a little more straight-forward than necessary but then again he had always been the one for double meanings.

"He's not supposed to know." Glaring at him, Erk returned his jibe with a simple answer. His face started to turn darker by the second, not only with anger but more so with embarrassment. He was remembering the dark kiss in the night, the stable smell along with her scent that could drive him nuts. Legault's smirk became even more lavacious.

"She wants her secrets then. Anyway, young Reka is too bright to not know already. I would bet on him over Serra any day of the week if it came down to noticing things." With that voiced, he tossed an Ostian coin in the air, catching the coin and moving the piece of silver along his fingers, the long instruments, dancing around with a piece of fire in its grasp.

"I get the feeling that you would as well, Master Destin?" Destin's hidden smirk moved out of sight as he tried to hide it behind resisting bangs that were stuck in a braid. Growling in discontent, he frowned at the assassin. His eyes glued to the other man as if watching for anything unlike normal.

"Yes. Serra is a bit wrapped up into her world." Though, he did answer. Erk only blinked. He never thought that Serra was dense, maybe oblivious sometimes but she acted that way when she didn't want to notice something that may be hurtful. During the entire time they had been with Lyndis's party, Serra had taken up to talking to everyone, especially Lady Lyndis and sometimes Sain, causing Erk to get into an irritated mood.

"I don't think she is." His mumbling caused all three other men to lean over trying their best to capture the words in the roar of a fire nearby. The sage's face grew to be as bright as the flame, a candle erupting into fire if one could say as such.

"Of course you don't. You know her in the only way no one else has. Anyway, Seras was rather….annoyed, about learning why Serra went missing. Her sister was still recovering so she stayed in Bern." The ex-thief's face became more contemplative as he decided to open up moreso for his brother-in-law than the sage. He and Erk had never been easy-going pals but when Serra had deserted the campaign, Legault couldn't help but try to find out why the mage had went so introspective, warding away everyone around him. Seras had mentioned that Priscilla had shown interest in the young man, so he had set them up by a few talks with Master Pent. Too bad that he didn't receive the information until it was too late that Erk was not that interested into Priscilla to marry her.

"How was Bern anyway?" Oh, well. His wife had never mentioned that Erk didn't reciporate the Lady of Cornwall's fragile feelings. Afterwards, Lady Priscilla had gone mad and had been locked away by her brother, Lord Raven. The only time he had heard anything about her was from Lucius, the only one other than Lord Raven that was allowed to see the beautiful yet tragic and fragile-minded woman. That incident had been a little over five years ago, a year before he had convinced Lucius and Pent to get Erk out of the work room by trying to get him an assignment by Seras's orders.

"Hated it. Remiel was in madness. Anyway, she has regained herself enough to run Bern with power to rival Zephiel's." Destin's face could not have gotten more surprised. Reka was sat there trying his hardest to swallow his beef tack that he had been chewing for an entire hour. Erk, however, only frowned in repose. The strategist only blinked enough to shake away his surprise. Looking at his companions, he began hitting Reka's back, trying to help the boy digest the hard tack that Serra had made before she left her cottage.

"It's a wonder for me as well." Seeing the surprised glance from Destin, Legault smiled in a way that caused a twitch to develop under an eye that looked at him. Erk remembered now why he never liked the thief that well. The man was more like an unwanted pest at times that Erk couldn't help but not like him.

"There is some good news in Ostia though. Is it the proposal true?" Now, Erk knew that Legault could keep secrets but he also knew that the man played with people much like the manipulator his wife was. He had no real disrespect for Lady Seras except that in a battle situation, she thought more of numbers and abilities than what was right or not. She had learned how to detach herself away from what was socially acceptable. It was an ability that most tacticians had to develop otherwise they would not be able to succeed in their battles.

"Proposal?" The proposal was intriguing as Erk had not been interested in the least about social rumors though he supposed anything that had to do with this coincidence was worth listening to, after all Legault rarely did or said anything without a reason behind it, even if it was a hidden one.

"Have you been hiding under a rock, Erk? Yes, proposal to Lady Lyndis." His scarred face seemed to fall away into boredom, watching the licking flames dance away into the night, embers flying with the wind.

"Rumors say something to the effect that Caelin will become Lord Hector's land. Seras thinks it will be through marriage while I think it will just be a handover." The brunette turned towards the sage, green eyes lighting in a way that made Erk feel more cautious. His son edged nearer towards him.

"So, it is true."

"Master Erk, why would Lady Lyndis give up her land?" Raising his hand, cupping the ear of his father, leaning in with all seriousness, Reka asked a question for what he was not understanding. His mother never explained the nobility of the land. In fact, he barely had any knowledge that their liege lord was indeed Lord Hector of Ostia, the High Marquee.

"She is not the type of woman who can stay in the court as most noble women are. Lady Lyndis is more of a free spirit. I think she deserves to live where she wants." Erk's reply was quick and self-sufficient, justifying his mind as questions began to form in his prodigal son's mind, creating confusion into a chaos that was always there,

"But can't she keep it and have someone else govern it?" Reka had always thought that a woman could inherit as many of the women in the village often had. When some of the elders in the village had gotten together, they usually talked of past lives with men that had died with businesses left untended to only take over completely in name and everything even allowing their female children to take over after them.

"Yes and no." Legault seemed to have heard as well. His face turned to one of general scathing. As Reka recalled, the thief hated the military and the nobility with a strength that bordered his father's love and lust for knowledge. The foundling had no idea that Legault was formerly of the Black Fang. In fact, besides those who had not been on that campaign or were not related to the Lady tactician Seras, had no knowledge of Legault having once been part of the Black Fang or even of the Black Fang, though it was whispered around the courts.

"Yes and no?" The boy's inquisitive stare, thirsting for knowledge that Erk knew he could provide. However, he was thwarted in his telling by Lord Destin.

"For a woman to inherit she must be the last of her line, which Lyndis is, as far as we all know. For a woman to give up her inheritance, she must either pledge her home to a liege lord and stay on as an overseer, or marry the lord and have him take care of the entire place. The only other thing she can do besides that is simply live as she has been living this last year without her grandfather. The Bladed Lady has had much time to decide as the time of mourning Lord Hausen has long passed." A few simple gestures and a statement got him far, a lop-sided sardonic frown pasted upon his lips as he explained as

"Bladed Lady?"

"Another term quite popular in for Lady Lyndis." This time Erk got the chance to answer though his disappointment as he hadn't been allowed to explain the finer points of nobility inheritance. He had actually studied up on the inheritance properties of Reglay, in case Pent and Louise never made it back home from many of their traveling journeys while he was still in his apprenticeship.

He had feared losing his parents and he had lost them. Pent and Louise were no different to him. He did not want to lose them too. He also had wanted to know what was going to become of him if they one day keeled over, pushing up daisies from six feet under. He had been so disrupted and chaotic right after his parents died, being passed from aunt to uncle to only end up in an orphanage not sure of what was going to become of him.

"How did you ever get so good at court politics?" Yet another question. The sage thought the answer would be obvious but then again, he was Serra's son also. Erk wondered if Reka really pondered upon how it would be like to lose his mother as well as Erk. Would the boy succeed in life, despite the odds?

"Seras plays the game of houses. Remiel surprised me when I found she never took a hand in the game which is probably why the Black Fang was never found in Bern."

"That was because she's simple-minded. So how is Ostia?"

"Worse. Lord Hector is more blunt than the broadside of a barn and the nobles that were on the late Lady Lita's side are rebelling from him because she's not there to soothe feathers of overripe chickens. Seras is getting battered on two fronts, by Lord Hector and the dividing nobles, ready to dissent at the instant of weakness yet willing to devour the young Marquee. What wolves nobles are. Turning on their weakest at a moment's notice. There is no loyalty amongst them." With that, Legault seemed to be a thousand years older than he really was. His wisdom outshone Erk's knowledge and Destin's sarcasm and yet Reka knew that the thief was only remembering the life he had left behind in Ostia.

"What's the game of houses?"

"Noble politics. When a noble decides to back someone or something, they usually give money to further that goal. Some nobles are too radical, while others are too conservative and to do anything, the Marquees must have a two-thirds vote of his court fellows. In the game of houses, a single noble can manipulate another house into taking a fall or simply doing what they want. It is a game of deception and deceit. Tacticians, when they are not on their campaigns with their lord, usually take the game up for their liege." This time Erk took up the explanation with pride. The sage had always wanted to try his hand at the noble game of politics but he had never been high in the courts to be able to pull it off that well.

"Dear spirits, she even has Lyndis in her plans?" This time it was the Master Destin that asked the question.

"Yes. Men have started following a house called House D'Targnan, which is very new money in Ostia. Seras knows a few things about the House that the House would rather have silenced. Lady Lyndis must prepare for each situation in Ostia. Seras told me to relay that message to you, brother." Taking a careful eye on his movements, Destin couldn't help but sense the seriousness in the rather jovial ex-Black Fang's voice and oculars. Those oculars had turned deadly in a second that it took to explain that the man's liege might be in trouble when she arrived in Ostia if she wasn't prepared. Getting up, the tactician turned to his lavender-haired and bandanna covered brother in arms.

"I see…….I will tell all of this to Lady Lyndis to prepare her for court. Legault, tell Seras that I hope she feels better." With that the regal personage walked away in a swirl of movement, dark hair covering his face with a hand against his temple in either disgust or thought.

"So have you been practicing Reka?" Turning, facing the young charge, a smiled warmed the youngling's face. He had studied hard to show that he could at least do a little magic. Besides Elfire, Erk had taught him a servant spell and a quick dry spell which was a large help in doing the laundry of their small force.

"Yeah! Erk taught me a lot while he was staying with me! I'll show you!" Taking a stick from beside the log he and Erk sat on, he put in the pentagram and the runes needed to make the unseen servant, writing his words from the anima runes into the circle to make his command wished to carry out. Erk was highly experienced with this spell that he had never a need to do a pentagram while Reka was straggling in summoning the creature instead of writing the words.

After a few minutes, Reka felt the presence in his mind, a being unaware of itself in a way that if the young mage ever let go of his will, by spell or accident, he was doomed to become the drone instead. His mind had always been strong whenever he had summoned an unseen helper, prepared with mental barriers and his mind's thoughts, the ones that were carved into the dirt, being carried out by the invisible serf.

"How?" Taking a few minutes of glancing at the boy when he finished his transmutation circle, he wandered where this 'spell' was going to come from.

"See Sir Sain and Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Watch."

"Oh……….."

"Is he?"

"Dear spirits!"

"REKA. That was a dirty trick."

"Do I have to apologize?"

"………no. He doesn't know and neither do we."

"Legault! Don't encourage him!"

"I didn't see anything."

"Legault!"

"I can't help that I have quite awful eyesight, Erk. Now, if you have a problem with Sain groping Serra, then you should go over there to her as soon as you can and claim Serra as your wife."

"You do not simply claim a woman!"

"You do if she's already yours."

"Why are you so stubborn about it?"

"Let's say that being able to support yourself doing something is not as great as having support from others."

"Stay out of it, thief!"

"Assassin."

"Thief!"

"Sp-…Assassin."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

There! FINISHED! Only joking! I simply got finished with this chapter. I thought this chapter should just be alittle more about explaining the events that are taking place in Ostia. (I'm doing a bit of the Hector and Lyn pairing along with some of the ending game stuff…….) Game of Houses is from a certain book series that I re-read during writing this. (Nynaeve's my favorite!) I finally decided on what the plot is. Part of it is in here. If you can find it, I give you a cool……plushie? Piece of pocky? Happy stick? Uh……almost whatever you want?

OH! I decided next chapter is just going to be an interlude! I'm going to let the speak about the story in their own way……teehee…..

Serra: She made me cut my totally cute hair! You horrible authoress!

Erk: ……..It was cute enough to deal with.

Serra: You thought my hair was cute after I cut it?

Erk: ……I don't understand why I even complained

Serra: I'm sooo glad you liked it Erky!

Erk: I knew that all that immaturity had to come out somewhere.

Serra: How sweet! You think I'm mature!

Erk: Open mouth, insert foot.

Serra: Why would you want to taste your foot?

(suddenly gets hit with shoes from the readers)

OKAY! I won't do that! I owe you all a lot of chapters but I think I'm either half-way through or almost through, but I can't be too sure…..I so want to start on Basket Case, but I promised I was going to finish one story before I started another! So Blargh! (Basket Case is a story where most of the characters are at an asylum and Seras makes observations on them all. Will mostly be drabbles and a bit of comedy.)

OMG! HAHAHAHAAA! TOLD YOU I WOULD UPDATE BEFORE CHRISTMAS DESTIN! IN YOUR……..MEOW MIX! EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANY! I got kind of tired at the end and was almost going to end it about three pages short. Gawds! This was only twenty three pages and I feel like I'm going to die! Sheesh! Anyway, I'm working on the next chapter already! I can't wait to finish this! So Happy that a plot has finally been mentioned! Keep up the SERK fluff! LOVES TO ALL!


	10. Forgotten

Drunken Lullaby : An Erk and Serra Story:

Chapter 9: Forgotten

"…_..You'll find me_

_Eyes burning up_

_The darkness holding me tightly_

_Until the sun rises up."_

_-'Forgotten' Linkin Park_

Disclaimer: I do not own the songs I use except for the songs by Kuri and I do not own Fire Emblem.

LLLLLLLLLL

The day they arrived at the grand capital, Ostia was when Serra had almost given up all her hope of having a relationship that was considered normal with Erk who merely sat there on top of his horse, treating the horse with more affection than she had seen him service her with right now. Glaring at the horse from under her bangs, the ones currently sticking to her forehead from the heavy traveling, she continued into the ornate archway covering the entrance into the city.

Reka sat beside her on his riding pony, whilst Erk remained by his other side, both seeming to try their best to guard his life against this known source of attention. His mother's hand on his reins caused no concern for him as he continued into the city with wide and amazed eyes, like that of a farm boy, which he in fact was.

"WOW!" His exclamation and the moving column of Lyndis's legion caught stares and people began to crowd around the main road. Buildings upon building competed for space, the decorated columns of stone in the many myriad tapestries showing heroes of long ago or businesses that were at that place.

It looked as if the Saint herself had come to this place and spread her touch here sending grace into the many stones that made up the buildings. Everything shined and looked well taken care of. It was just so beautiful, though he did pick up the sight of a few beggars here and there. His troubled countenance showed his ignorance in why they didn't seem well fed. People in his village had taken care of those ones who couldn't take a job out of love considering it was most likely either a relative or a friend lost in grief or something of that sort.

"Is that Lady Lyndis!" "We love you, Lady Lyndis!" "Three cheers for the Bladed Lady!" "OSTIA's FULL OF JOY!" The many cries of the Ostians caused Lyndis to smile such a wonderful smile towards them. She really did love the people in most of the lands because even if her heritage was known, she was mostly loved by all of the people. They gave her a respect that she had never known before becoming Hausen's known granddaughter.

In a sense as her palanquin moved amongst the crowds, she never once looked away from the crowd, pleased to see such love shown towards her, and herself taking it as gracefully as she could. She took a moment as they rode onwards to glance at her compatriots, her comrades and her vessels.

She had really been surprised by Reka. The child seemed so quiet and knowing that Lyndis was unnerved by it. He seemed to have had taken after Erk in more than just simply looks but once his mother had got him to talk, the boy was exuberant and every inch of what a child should be in a way, except for his thought of duty. He took care of Serra more often then Serra took care of him.

The woman had needed this child to settle her down; though saying she was tame was far from the concept. Serra was a fire-tempered lass with a mouth wide enough to feed a horse trough, but now that mouth was a lot more tactful than it had been, and she had learned to keep her temper more in check, though Lyndis did suppose that she was exerting at least a month full of tempers kept on Sain every time he tried something with her.

Lyndis really couldn't blame her.

She had noticed the many side glances and stares that both Erk and Serra had lingering upon the other. She really couldn't understand why they had not gotten together yet, but that wasn't her business to know. Serra had even admitted to Lyn that she might still be in love with Erk though she had thought she lost all that feeling when Reka was born.

Lyn hadn't been able to give her any useful advice and maybe that was because she was having an arranged marriage through her now future overseer of her land. Who knew what was going to happen? For now, she returned from her musings to the crowd again, a few thoughts straying here and there in her mind.

"Whoa! Is this really Ostia, mom?" Reka's widened eyes already made Serra become a little worried. What if he preferred living in the city than the country sight where they had lived for years since he was born? In many ways, she had truly missed the city because this was a home for her and yet she had been gone away for so long that it seemed as if there was nothing that was waiting here for her.

"Yes it is……" Her hesitance spoke volumes to her concerned escort. Erk hated having to be in the spotlight as he was even if he was only a supporting character in the cast of misfits that he was traveling in. Watching Serra from the side of his eyes, he wanted to grasp her uncertain fingers, to reassure her when all need of holding even a small piece went away with a shake of his head. They needed to get away from the sight of the others. They did not need this shaded light upon the three of them. They were not part of Lyndis's legion or Hector's horde.

"Let us get a ro-"Turning to Serra, his eyes trained upon her lithe form, smothered in a worry that he had seemed to be the only one seeing as Reka, one of the precious few that even observed those around him with an insight that could rival his own in this band of parading people, was watching the buildings and the smelling marketplace like a newborn pup.

"No need for that! Hector gave all of my guests a free room in Ostia." Too bad that Lady Lyndis overheard him. Her eyes brooked no argument as her palanquin balanced precariously amongst the horses that were brought to support her. The green trimmings of the curtains that were pulled back

"Bu-"His darkened oculars seemed to disappear as he knew that he was losing a battle of wills and hierarchy. They had come along with the Bladed Lady's party so it was thus that they should accept her accommodations even if Erk was trying to make sure that they were not going to be stuck in the middle of Seras's game, the cunning wench she could truly be.

"I insist." From a look by Destin, along with a couple of words, Erk resigned to defeat. His illustrious dark hair drifted into the wind, a dust rising to only fall away as he turned a glance towards the object of his unknown affections. He constantly had to rein in his many looks at the ex-cleric he was escorting. 'After this………'He reminded himself. 'After this, she won't be with you, Erk. Neither will he…….once you arrive at the gates of the castle.'

"Yes, Lady Lyndis, Master Destin." A dismal look replaced the contrary frown he had worn earlier. A feeling of loss filled him as his horse stepped through the marketplace to the tall outer courtyard of the looming gates to the castle that filled him with dread and hopelessness. Was he really going to have to lose her a second time? Was he going to leave much like she had done to him in their earlier years?

"Let's go then. I'm so saddle sore!" Looking once more, caught in his captive thoughts, he persuaded himself to look cross at the cleric, who had put that mask back on. These last few weeks were great, except for the last two where neither said a word, simply for the idea that he had seen who Serra was really behind that cheerful disposition of hers that she had created for others to see ever since she was small. He then knew his answers to his questions as he watched her as discreetly as possible, grumbling towards her remark.

Not. Bloody. Likely.

He'd stay for her and for Reka. After all, he wanted to be a father now that he knew he had a child. Maybe Pent was rubbing off of him after all.

"Heal yourself then Serra." The cleric and her son gave the father a look of reproachful ness. Well, if Mr. Grumpy wanted to be a grumbling big black bear of despair, putting on a mask of his usual dismal uncheeriness. Now she remembered why she hated being around Erk sometimes even if she did love his attentions on her. Deciding to play the all around known Serra, the one everyone but her son and Erk were now familiar with, she put on a sigh to show how tired she really was. It wasn't her fault the sides of her legs now had saddle sores all over the place.

"That takes too much energy. What if I have to represent in court, hmmmm? That would be bad if I fainted in the middle of court. Besides, I have to go talk to Seras! She might have some more information on court manners." She seemed to act flippant, her mind sailing away from what really mattered while still looking as if she was completely serious. Reka took her in full. His mother was acting. He could see a slight gleam in her eyes as if she had gotten away with a cookie from the cookie jar.

"Then we'll go." Erk knew that gleam in her eyes as well. Knowing that he was truly defeated, but now knowing her agenda in the way she seemed to make it superfluous caused no amount of concern to show on his face. He gave up for now.

LLLLLLLLLLLL

In a way, the little cleric should not have been so surprised at the vastness of the tactician's quarters. They bordered with the royal family's suite and those alone took up most of the east wing of the castle. Guests tended to stay in the guest wing which was located in the lower western wing as the higher western wing was given to a vast library for all types of men and women.

The slate gray walls seemed to be a brighter shade of gray than they were near the receiving hall, this wall covered with only marks given off from torches that were held to it during the night, a lingering light to hold of the wall's childish frights against complete darkness.

From the corridor she traversed, sunlight filtered through the early afternoon, bringing in a sense of unique serenity that was lost in the servant and guest quarters as many noble families used their free time to converse with each other, many now trying to vie for Lyndis's attentions as the potential bride for the throne.

Serra could admit to getting lost in this center of calmness, only broken by the ever closing-in noises of a woman at work with her letters and notes, the few lavishings upon the stone gray corridor was little as that was a style that was particular to her ex-tactician, the woman barring any idea of an extravagant entry into the world, or proof that she was indeed a noble. Like her brother, the regally airing Destin, Seras didn't like the nobility, but she had always had the ability to play with them, much like a manipulating spider swathed in the ingenuity of comeliness.

The hall seemed long, but in reality it wasn't long enough as she stopped before a wooden and iron door, wrapped in ornate edges of a certain sense of magical runes, barring against the unwanted, general runes that were put into every door way in Ostia to protect the beings inside from sickness, poverty, and demons. Pulling the handle with her strength, opening the ornate blocking wood to allow enough room to move in, Serra nearly gasped at the sight of the luxurious red and gold room, sunlight filtering through the shutters of crimson silk as a feel of winter came through the orifices of the room.

The sitting room as what was normally the first room a person stepped in when entering a suite, contained a simple array of tables and sofas, holding each person in their place with decorated chairs of comfort, a brand of cognac on the table at the far side. A woman with fire red hair, much the same as the crimson drapes, sat on a dark colored sofa that depicted the rebirth of a phoenix, much like most of the room tended to do, a book held in her hand, brown spine reading "Of Loving Eirika" a tale by an author in Etruia.

The woman noticed the new breeze and looked up, the effortless motion of putting the book aside was cat-like, a seam of fluidity in her body as the fire-red woman only smiled towards the unaware cleric.

She had grown older, aging well. The licking flames that one could call the woman's hair fell away onto the swell of her chest to the beginning showings of a stomach. The woman was obviously with childe though Serra would not mention it out loud. The woman seemed to ooze a proud and defiant nature with her short stature, glasses resting upon her nose, making a gleam appear in vibrant green eyes filled with an intelligence that sometimes had frightened Serra in the past.

No one really contemplated the tacticians of the Talunis family; one could really lose their mind trying to. The Talunis family was just too famous for themselves and sometimes, they were not the nicest people to be around, lest one forgot how idiosyncratic the entire main family was. They were just weird.

"It's been a long time, Serra of the cleric order of St. Elimine, stationed in Ostia. Did you have the child like I ordered you to?" Blinking towards the question she could only wonder at what Seras meant, when a green eye winked at her, pointing towards the wall with a finger, gesturing with a merriment that bedazzled unknown amusement. Nodding, silently, Serra picked up on her ex-tactician's secrecy. The walls had ears.

Pausing as the woman's gestures pointed to her taking a seat, the pink-haired mother could only wonder what was happening around Ostia that she was needed so badly.

"It is good to see you well, Lady Serra." It looked as if there was indeed a few pleasantries to be exchanged, thus Serra rapped her brain for a few of them.

"I missed Ostia dearly." She knew it was lame but it was the only thing she really did feel coming back to her old home, a place of beauty and danger. Ostia had whispered its name across her ears so many times when she was with Reka, wanting to see the beautiful Corinthian columns holding the entrance to the palace, then the wonderful gothic imageries of angels and demons on every turning corner.

She had loved this city-state, and now she realized that she still did.

Grasping a hand of Serra's, the fire-red woman led the pink-haired healer onto a walkway that connected to a balcony. A few minutes spent in quiet solace, picked apart only by their tapping footsteps crumbling against the strong furnished floor, leaving Serra to contemplate nothing but questions.

When they went out on the balcony, a view of the city was seen by the most astounded eyes causing the moody one to only laugh behind her hand in a noble art, her hands still pulling the ex-cleric to the very end of the balcony to talk what was needed to be said. Turning around, dropping the impish cleric's hand, the phoenix began her talk, only whispering the words so that no one else but the person she intended to have listen, listen in.

"Maybe if you had stayed our fair country would not be in this sad state. A demon or a house controlling a demon is in our midst. There are many mysterious circumstances that have come to nearly no light of reason. Cruel murder, and maddening puzzles while I have proof to think it is House D'Targnan. The way the house rose to prominence was too fast for an ordinary merchant house trying to become nobles and the circumstances surrounding the family are too vague. They are also separating the houses into either throwing their lots with Hector or them. A lot of the minor and a few of the major have started throwing their lot in with them." Seras stopped, eyes focused on the garland of ivy wrapped upon her trellis, the green clingers twisting here and there like a snake that wanted to bite her. Seras hated ivy, a lot.

"When did this start? Where are the clergy on this matter?" Serra bowed her head in remembrance of the fair time that she had lived here in the temple of the Saint. Her memories seemed to overflow as she watched herself wandering here and there, running away from Sister Marina, who was clutching a ruler to smack her selfish fingers with. Blinking away the memory, she looked up to see that Seras had continued talking, not noticing that Serra had blanked out for a minute or so.

"A few years ago, right before we sent Erk to find you. This started a few months before I had managed to advise Hector and Lita, my ex-apprentice to send someone to get somebody that was separated in the clergy with the use of holy magic and could be trusted. Renault is too hard to find unless he wants to be found which is not a high percentage. Lucius had only died a month before this letter was in Hector's hands. You were the only one we had a chance of finding. The clergy is getting paid off by donations from House D'Targnan and its minions. They won't go against him because of the money." Leaning against the stone railing, the green snake creeping upwards like a treacherous sin, waiting to grasp itself with certainty, Seras let out a sigh. She was tired of thinking of everything that was going to save everyone from harm. She really wanted to retire from her job, but she would never really be able to. Not now, considering she was the tactician that took down Nergal and a dragon with her warriors.

Serra's reaction was immediate, as she had been a comrade to the fore mentioned girly man. Lucius had always been a tender and gentle person, even dealing with the times she drooled over him. He was very saint-like and she literally wanted to know him for this, wanted then to be like him. She looked up to the man, hoping that one day she could reach that destiny that he seemed to have attained with the Saint's graces.

"That's awful! Lucius died!" Her stomach felt as if it were a pit ready to swallow everything up, the up and down of a roller coaster nowhere in sight as she dropped. Erk had to have been devastated when he heard and now she couldn't realize but she wanted to know Erk's thoughts more and more, wanting to hold herself to in the midst of his deepest secrets, his darkest emotions, an affliction of the virus that was really called love.

Lucius's death sprang tears upon her eyes, coming in question whether or not that she should hold them in like always or let them go, cascading like rain down the red clay mountains of Bern. With one look towards her companion, Serra knew that later she would mourn his death.

"Yes. I would have not asked for you to come out this far from your home without a real reason behind it. Sadly, we could only hope that you were living otherwise we would have had to try and trust a person that would not be so easy to. Lucius was murdered. It was of men who were dressed in the guard uniforms of the Marquees but we know that we do not treat one of our own like that. None of our guards had left their post to pursue anyone that night. Lord Raven was not so gracious in his opinion and he left our side to House D'Targnan that promised revenge against Hector." She had heard nothing in her exile away from her country man, as she had wanted it, but now, she knew she would have liked to have heard before she had decided to make this journey with her son. Though, with the knowledge of Raven, she knew that the angelic Priscilla must have been nearby, even living with him as a family.

It was a little secret she had always kept since Raven had once thought he was going to die in the field. His hushed groans falling away into a plea as he was delirious with fever and infection, something that she couldn't heal. Asking her to record his last words, she had listened intently to him to only hear of his secret, asking her to tell only two people, one had been Lucius and the other, Priscilla. He even had made her swear upon her cleric's oath.

"I know it sounds cold and heartless but we had a greater need of finding you so that Ostia could be free of this demon in her houses. we need you to exorcize a demon. Can you still use your holy magic?" Before Serra could ask a question of the renowned Lady Priscilla, Seras had already began speaking as if she were hiding something she hadn't wanted Serra to know, which in all prospects were right. If the strategist didn't want someone to know it was probably either for a good reason or the fact that one had no need to know.

"Yes." The ex-cleric resigned her to a mere yes. She wondered when she would be able to have a precious hold of the friendship that the Phoenix, Seras's nickname from many of the tactics she used where to the enemy it only appeared that her men were losing when they would come back in the end and kill everything. The woman standing before the firebird knew of this and had been used before in those schemes on the battlefield, almost losing her life if it hadn't been for Erk sometimes.

She really did owe Erk all of her heart for the many times he preserved it.

The woman standing before the healer, looking at the green clinger on her banister of stone, a distraction of self-loathing and thought, mere dreams were like that ivy, clinging to any surface that would uphold their dreams and she had to be that stone that ivy clinged to, hung upon as she tried her best to make sure men didn't lose their lives in the disagreement between the houses that could one day end up, very soon perchance, in war. It was the one thing she was trying her best to avoid, after all she knew the people in their true finery, the spirits that spoke and rode by or walked through the life that was given to them by Providence.

"We are still doing a bit of reconnaissance, getting a bit more information for court to bring them to justice. When I gather a plan, I'll let you know what you are going to do." Beginning her way back to the open patio door, turning around to the still absorbing pink-haired woman, Seras bit her lip. She had always been hesitant to place this responsibility upon the cheerful and carefree cleric that the woman before her had always been. The strategist had always admired and respected the woman before her; as if that perhaps one day she could be that happy and carefree, as if the change of the winds would never sour her contemptuous tempered hurricane of a mind.

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's with all the stiffness! Spirits around! You sound as much as a stick in the mud as Erk! So are you tired or do you want to go out for a night on the town? It's not many times a good friend comes home." Growling, in a fake arrogance, Seras went over, grabbing the mother's hand, taking her inside, not ever seeing the maid that hid behind a curtains that billowed into the room by the wind, coating everything with a reddened gaze.

"Is the day after tomorrow all right?" Serra laughed, playful as she tried to get away from the more forceful of the two, laughing at the ecstatic woman who held her hand in her own grip, visage retaining a youth-felt happiness that seemed to only stay with the woman of the moon, a lunar child by heart. It was a strange fleeting thought that gathered her short-term happiness to her, following the leader further into the diverse and massive red and golden suite.

"Sure thing! But tomorrow you have to represent yourself in court. Do you need clothes?" Seriousness came over the flitting overjoyed expression the firebird had only moments before as she dropped the smiling light user's digits, grappling with the need to use a more soft transition of moods, yet she was trying her best to soften the sudden seriousness.

Serra seemed to have sensed this and only allowed a small smile to linger over her lips, turning towards her ex-leader with understanding.

"Court clothing?" It was true that Serra never really had court clothing besides the tabard she coveted ever since she was appointed to being a bishop in the church. In all, the given bishop tabard, decorated with the most beautiful Pegasi and wyverns in an eternal conflict on the twilight sky of velvet brocade, along with the decorated ring, one she had personally made for her, were the only real amount of known rankings to the public of the clergy.

She had been so happy when that purple cloth had been placed in her hands by the tactician, a gift from the monastery in recognition of their dire mission, to only have the given power disappear when a fortunate and yet unfortunate occurrence played into being.

"Yes." Smiling, a gentle curl of the lips, Seras only could see that a display of memory was in the mind of her comrade. Entering a chamber, a door of ornate design made by the craftsmen of long ago when heroes were less common, Serra gasped as a shock of light lavender and blue pervaded the room with those of golden and red tinged things. The room was large, a work table and desk over by one side while a vanity mirror and a wash basin stood beside the probably comfortable and fluffy bed, a small patio connected to the room, and this wasn't even the bath. Serra felt a sense of awareness at her image, one she hadn't felt in years before she knew that a bureau standing beside the worktable, was opened with brilliant colored, myriad dresses made for court. The drawers were mentioned to contain her more traveling gear.

Looking at the magnificently made silk and velvet, Serra knew she should just borrow some for their entire family. Glancing over to the expressive bold one, the mother knew that she would be allowed to if she wanted to.

Grinning in typical Serra fashion, she spoke her mind.

"Then of course! I didn't exactly live in a castle with a court for the last eight years."

LLLLLLLLL

The suite in which Erk, Serra, and Reka had been given by the Marquees was nearest to the entrance of the middle wing where court was held. Their bedroom, with only one bed however, was quite quaint in the idealistic nature that it held. The room seemed to be simple with an elegance that Serra never really understood about the ladies at court. There was nothing too personal besides their things that told anything of the place.

The aforementioned woman sighed, washing her face in a washing basin near the mirror, on top of the dresser. The terrycloth green towel rested with the dirt and dust that had come from her being as she washed. The water sliding down her naked body to the large bucket of already dirty water as she dipped the cloth, after wringing it out, into the pitcher on the stand. A screen was all that could be between her and Erk. Reka, was already lain out on the bed, having taken a bath and had eaten, asleep in all his intelligent glory.

The magic user that her now 'pretend' husband was sat at the edge of the bed, watching the candle she had on her side of the screen, the flame illuminating the caressing she was doing with the ragged cloth. For some reason, he really couldn't take his eyes away from her nude silhouette, the shadow dancing with the piece of cloth in such an innocent manner that it seemed seductive to him.

His breathing had grown ragged and heavy, a fantasy of himself being on the opposite side of that screen with her, wanting her to touch him in the burning manner her fingers had brushed so lightly on his skin already, grazing him with a desire he found hard to deny. He felt himself stiffen, a discomfort to be sure, as the cloth seemed to follow the rise of her chest down to her stomach, a stretch that he was sure to be ensorcelled in his mind for awhile.

He didn't know why, but he had moved towards her, a tension as he tried his best to listen to a reasoning voice in him. His dark, almost obsidian, eyes were tracing the shadow of her body through the screen when he came to be abreast of the obstacle, unsure what to do now as he felt a pit wrenching desire pulsating through his being.

Silently, almost in a ninja-like fashion, a dexterity that came with his magical practices, he slid the screen away from her, taking away the shadow to be replaced by the purest skin he had ever seen. She glowed, a moonbeam in human form, bending over to get another drenching of water, dipping the rag into the pitcher, not looking at the suddenly very luminous man behind her.

THUD!

Two hands gripped the end of the table, caging her in a small amount of moving space. Turning around, unsure of what was going on; she saw the sight of a frowning Erk. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and a type of tightening that seemed to have no explanation until his visage came to rest beside her cheek, soft lips whispering into her ear, the lobe vibrating with his rich vocal tones.

"You missed a spot."

Serra could nearly melt into him, his body at a leaning arm's length; as if it was taking all of his will to make sure that he didn't come any closer. The wide-eyed cleric could only mutter to him as she looked down to the proximity of their bodies.

"You're standing in dirty water." The man grinned against her neck, shivers smoothing over her back when he began suckling upon her bottom part of her earlobe, his tongue smoothing over the skin as if it were a delicate covering to a creamy delight. A tentative pressure was applied as if he was afraid of the flustered woman moving away, her back arched, need filling her.

She missed this and had wanted this for so many years and sleepless nights. Her body moved of its own accord, sifting against his clothed figure, moaning in a pleasure that excited the man hovering barely above her. His teeth grazed her lobed as a drifted away from the tender loving spot. A grin was on his face as he started to push his body against hers, her own supple body roughly going against the grain of the wood. Somehow, her hands had found the few toggles on his shirt and opened them, leaving the split tunic open to the expanse of his chest.

He was breathless as he leaned to her, kissing her lightly on the lips as a knock came from the door. He shrugged out of his red traveling tunic, nearly throwing it towards the naked woman with a disappointment in his eyes, of what he was uncertain. Bare-chested, with only his long dark trousers, draw-stringed on his frame by a simple sash with green dragons, his right hand gathering magical energy to his digits, ones he wished to caress the ex-cleric with desperately at the moment, he was ready to open the door. The door opened to see an expanse of the same grey-stoned hallway with sconces of light from the torches that brightened areas of the corridor from shadow.

A woman stood in front of him with a slightly surprised face. A certain unhealthy curious streak crossed her green eyes as she pushed Erk aside, more so in an easygoing shock as he racked his brain to remember the exact face that it was similar to. He knew he had seen that structure somewhere, the defined noble brow and air of business that was hard to find in a woman, an arrogance and intelligence sparked in those green eyes hidden by strange articles.

"Serra! You left your 'rings' when I remembered them on my bureau! Stop being so forgetful! Hello, Lord Erk." Noticing the scene, Seras couldn't help but allow a huge grin mar her face. Serra looked disheveled in a large tunic that gave her body shape but was meant for someone who was perhaps not so heavenly gifted in her assorted curves, being that was all she was wearing. Let's not forget to add in Mr. Shirtless Sage at the door and the phoenix's rather large tactical brain went into a sense of a working mode, a conclusion drawn by all her assuming facts. Poor Erk.

"It is a pleasure to see you in good health, Lady Seras. Oh, yes, Lord Destin came here with Lady Lyndis." Withdrawn from his initial surprise, he realized who he was addressing in their suite, having interrupted the chance of Erk getting a rather demure pair of lips to be his own. Disgruntled as he was, he smiled in a courtly manner, hiding his high amount of frustration at the interruption. Seras bounded over to Serra handing a pair of silver bands in her hands, beginning to walk away when she came to the door where he was waiting to close the door on her.

"I must take a farewell from you then, Lord of Reglay." Bowing, only a slight nod with her fiery red hair, Seras waved and closed the door herself on the way out. The sage could only think of how strange it was that he was now glaring at his own tunic as if it were a snake upon the angel's skin that it hid from his sight. It was with this thought that he caught onto the formal title that his ex-tactician had given him.

Pent and Louise must have had something gone wrong or they had finally named him heir to the throne of Reglay, which he altogether could care less of.

"Something must have happened………." Looking towards the healer, he noticed her stare towards the floor. Wisely, he didn't say anything as turned towards her, grabbing her fingers, rushes of warmth and a sense of safety pervading their skins by that contact alone, and directing her towards the bed.

"Let's go to sleep, wife." He murmured, using his sage powers to put out the flames of their chambers to the relative night darkness that was accustomed to the stars. Serra stood, unsure as he laid himself into bed, to only end up pulling her beside him, lying under the covers together.

For the first time, as his arms held her hand, later wrapping around her waist as he fell to sleep, long before her time to sleep came, Serra could only muse on how much her stomach trembled and her heart pounded with an ache and need she had no idea to quell.

She once had said this was love, but in all truth was it love she was experiencing again?

LLLLLLLLLL

Glancing upwards, the high arched entrance to the court decorated with numerous shapes of gargoyles and angels, wyverns and pegusi fighting against each other to the entrance of benevolence as the court was named. Every servant bustled along with trays in their finest uniforms trying their best to serve the needs of the nobles helter-skelter around the entrance, waiting to see who was coming in, waiting for a friend or a noble they needed to speak with.

Fidgeting, trying her best to calm her nerves, the mothering loud healer walked down the staircase from where her suite had been. An emerald color bounced off of her dress, seeming to shimmer the world around her in its glow as the dress she wore, as it was the emerald described, was indeed a sparkling majesty that had been fitted quite well to her demure and frail, at least she thought frail, figure. The emerald cloth was held to her waist by a brocaded violet bodice, tightened with velvet strings, lace covering parts of her showing bosom and on her dress as it opened for the skirt, revealing a velvet purple with ruffles. Her hair had been dressed by Seras's own maid with jewelry that Seras insisted would help the dress shine even more magnificiently.

The pink hair was adorned with a light golden headband, a purple gemstone in the middle of her forehead showing that she was indeed a user of healing and light magic. The golden band wrapped to the sides and to a ponytail in the back where an emerald rested, dangling golden rods tinkling as she walked. Her eyes adjusted to the majestic landing for the staircase and she caught sight of Erk with Reka.

The young boy hadn't noticed his mother yet wearing such court finery that could fit a princess. He wore a simple paige's uniform, as that was all that Seras could find at the moment when they were trying to find court garb for her family. He seemed to scratch at the fine golden circlet with an amethyst gem in the center that rested upon his crown in effeminate irritation. The long sleeved green tunic responded well with the decorated tabard he wore, golden thread sewn into a design of Ostian crest of the now royal family. The sash of gold highlighting the designs, his stockings burning brighter with his rather androgynous clothing.

He stood beside his father with a pride that Serra almost wondered whether or not that he knew but dismissed that idea away from her head as she turned to them with a smile on her radiant face. The man wore the same sort of circlet upon his brow except with three marvelous gems of the light purple coloring to portray that he knew magic and was a sage master already.

His hand held a singular envelope, enclosed with the seal of Reglay, meaning it was from his master and foster father. His doublet was encrusted with the designs of magical glyphs, golden thread showing proudly of the nation he hailed from. The tunic underneath the doublet fell down to his mid-thighs showing little of stockings as his boots came up to almost meet them. It was as she was scrutinizing her 'pretend' husband that Reka had noticed her and tugged his long sleeves to get his attention. He pointed up to her with such a joyous look upon his face that Erk could only gulp as a memory of the night before played out.

But it was her eyes that caught his. He was stunned breathless, much like a sparring practice with Kent often went when they used to spar together. He felt as if he was drowning into the warmest and kindest eyes on earth, unused to the very idea that anyone could induce him into such a state of disarray. When she approached, Reka took his father's dainty hand and his mother's tanned fingers, patting them together. Both looked down and smiled in kindess and relief that both their eyes had broken from their trance of the other.

Wordlessly, as no words were needed, he beckoned her to take his hand in the formal fashion, leaving the ever amused child to tread behind them with a careful eye. They began their trespass through the ornate arched door.

"The court announces Lord Erk and Lady Serra with Lord Reka of Reglay." A paige, a young loud youth, shouted out for all to hear within the ballroom. The many decored nobles looked up at the entrance, watching it empty out into a large hall filled with tables and many dancing companies along with a few musicians. On the other side, where the tiled design of the Ostian crest ended, stood the dais, a high table raised for all to see the throne and the men and women sitting there.

The crowd dispersed before them as they continued walking, each step an uncertainty as if they were going to fall into an oblivion unknown to all. Serra turned towards the faces with a certain clarity as she saw who they all were, what houses were represented. It was a rare thing for her not to know of the nobles amongst the crowd considering they all had been there a decade before except for two faces that she knew had never been there in her time. She assumed they were the D'Targnan clan.

The man held himself with a sort of aloofness that was cold as she walked by. His eyes were chilling and almost made Serra cringe, wanting to hide her child as they walked by. Erk glanced sideways to see the people that had seemed to make Serra's blood run cold. The scarlet covered man reminded him of a scarecrow, frightening with those darkened eyes, eyes of complete and utter darkness. A woman was beside him that gave him the chills when he could feel her eyes boring into his back. She had no eyes. That was the only way he could try to describe it, a pair of blue eyes were practically gone into the whites of her eyes, as if the milky white cornea was swallowing everything whole.

"Who is that, milord?" The pale-eyed woman, wearing such decadence that seemed prudent for nothing more than dressing up for the crowds, turned towards the sneering evil man. Her lord, D'Targnan stood with such aloofness that the woman seemed to share his chilling view willingly.

"That must be the little cleric that they sent for. Looks like she turned up. We will have to speak at length with the hurricane, tonight." Her inquiry became answered as the man's pale hair, an almost silverfish hue of blonde, wavered as he turned towards the woman wearing her black hair down. A mocking smile replaced the look of a small frown that had been wrought upon his lips as he had watched the couple, noticing the curious child behind them, so trusting of his parents.

"Look at the boy, milord. Isn't he just perfect for our little Cena?" The woman noticed the child as well. Her lips curled up in a sneer befitting a demon. The man beside her seemed to be in agreement as he watched the couple with their youngling, ready to taste the magical blood upon his tongue, watching the strong runic aura around all three, wincing at the cleric's bright white aura.

"I agree. His power is that of a fourth level mage but his father is certainly brimming with magic as well as the mother and child. Let's give them to Cena, to play with." With this in tow, he turned his attentions upon the dais that Marquees Hector sat upon, the coronet upon his head in its glory, much like a beacon in the darkest light.

Each of three approached the lord, bowing their heads in due respect and curtseying as was practiced in all of life. Serra blushed as she was sure that she was indeed somehow messing up her etiquette seeing the amused face of the lord she respected the most.

The man on the throne did not seem to have aged by much. He lost the softer features of his boyish looks, but he was not so severe as someone older than him, much like coming into his own body, the muscles hidden behind his arm guards and royal garb. His dark blue tresses were growing out, facial and cranial, nearly creating a unique look of him that could be considered soft, though in all truth he really wasn't.

He raised a massive hand, showing that he would hear them at that moment.

"Lord Hector, I ho-" Serra smiled and began to only hear everyone begin to titter in laughter. Growing a rosy red, she felt as if she were going to die, looking to Seras, who did sit at the high table with her lord, Legault with her, an amused smile upon his lips. The tactician did not give any sign of mirth except for a slight frown as she had forgotten to tell the cleric of something. The man standing beside her took a pre-emptive measure reaching over to slide his fingers within hers, a delicate gesture of reassurance. Reka seemed to stand between the two of them, a great big grin on his playfully child-like face.

"It's Marquees now, Lady Serra. I haven't been a simple noble for at least three years. Have you not heard?" Hector's voice rumbled with a low purr, contentment for such a lord of his stature. Of course, this was after an audible thump was heard from phoenix beside him casting him with such a dark glare. His mouth and eyes twinkled with merriment telling of his darkest secret in wanting Serra back to his court.

"Sadly, no my lord. I was in a country estate where news is very slow to travel." She discerned his joviality by the mere way his smirk was set on his rough-hewned visage, a shrug of little negligence of thought, a presence she could not explain dancing around his blue eyes, making her want to convulge all her dire secrets. She had been known in her much earlier years at court as a young acolyte just gaining her prestige as a cleric to be the terror of the entire court.

"It is good to see you are in good health after you took your last orders from Lady Seras." A gentle depth to his voice cause Serra to shiver as she could barely remember the last time she had heard his voice before. It was a deep ridge between the harsh yet often firm and steadfast voice she barely could figure that the person standing above her was really Lord Hector from eight years before.

"Thank you, my lord. It is a pleasure to meet you even if it under these circumstances." She bowed her head in the courteous appreciation that was given in her etiquette classes in the yesterdays of her life, a wonderment that she even thought of the useless lessons, or as useless as they had been back then.

"Have no worries. You are family to me, my sister. I can not just leave you to the merchant wolves. So tell me, this strapping young lad is?" He stood up, dressing his elegance with a grace that had been most practiced in the years she had gone. It was with this small doubt of regret that Serra second-guessed herself in that one life-changing decision into having the child that she had with Erk.

"He is our son, Reka Peten of Reglay. He is to take an apprenticeship under his father's and grandfather's tutelage when he becomes older." With this mentioned, she pressed onwards, sweeping a bow with a dignity that she wondered how she had, passing a mention to her son. The child bowed like his parents had, clumsily and awkwardly, bending his body slightly.

Those powerful eyes darkened as they swept over the family to land on the only grown man in the family of three.

"I see. Lord Erk, how have you been since you have recently found your wife?" His mouth seemed to grow stern with such a sudden switch that Reka wanted to take it into slow motion, moving the scene into a past winking of time.

"Better received than can be expected. I am happy that she was not injured when I met her again." He grinned, a little happy with lie before he remembered that it was indeed a lie only meant to consol himself and satisfy the man before him. A tremolous sigh escaped his mouth as he remembered their meeting with fervor. His fingers grasped on the diligent ones in their hold, firming against them much like the essence of two souls mingling into one.

"Then please accept my gratitude at finding my family and your wife. I hope you two will be able to keep it together this time. After all, second chances rarely do come in the battlements of love. Make sure to stay home as long as you wish this time, sister." Watching with a critical eye, Seras wondered at his fingers intertwining with Serra. They were not together and yet they really could be in a way. Erk, as anyone knew in the past eight years, had never been with another woman, meanwhile Serra had never taken another man to her bed.

"Yes, my lord."

"Yes, Marquees Hector." Both bowed, ready to look away and go towards their own table which was near the front by the dais when as they turned, Hector, taking a hand out to stop them with a cheerful expression upon his stony face. His gaze rested upon the youngest of the trio.

"Now I hope to meet you a little more, young man. It would be nice to hear stories of your country estate."

Yes, Marquees Hector." With his answer and a bow, the trio left the side of the Marquees to rest themselves at one of the long tables filled with food that had been brought out during the conversation. The Marquees watched them with a critical eye then looked meaningly towards his tactician for a brief second that the only one sitting between them, her husband, was the only other one who was able to catch it.

"Now it is time to eat! Drink with me, my family of nobles! It is for our great government that Ostia still stands the number one in everything!" His voice boomed out in a pleasurable roar that was a welcome distraction from her own nerves. The entire assembly toasted to him, though a few were ready to spit at his feet with the same swallow they drank. The chatter of the hall filled the stones with life, making it almost possible that they were only ghosts to the stones.

Everyone was fine except for the masters of House D'Targnan and they were plotting a downfall sooner than one could think to spit.

"So they have marital problems? That can be used to our advantage, my lord."

"Yes, it will be." A wicked grin was all the woman received in repose but it was enough to warm her chilling heart to the evil it had willingly bound to her own blood.

LLLLLLLLL

They were having another argument, though Reka really couldn't blame his mother for it. His mother was just going to the market and would give his father and him some alone time to talk, maybe even start a practice circle for him to continue on with his Elfire studies. Erk had been telling him about many of the magical things that he had been able to create spells with.

"Oh, let it go Erk! I'm going with Seras! She and I are doing a little girl trip down to the market. Stay here with Reka. I'm not having him come with me. Take him to the library." Her fierce eyes narrowed in her determination, immediately remembering when his dark eyes lusted upon her, holding her tightly against himself, the tunic he had given her was now at her bedside.

"But Serr-" He frowned as he felt his stomach drop, a gut instinct saying that he shouldn't let her out of his sight, though he did feel silly if only a little at that. She was not his, no matter who thought that they were meant to be. She was grabbing the last of her market things, a coin purse on her neck throng, hidden underneath her tabard and chemise, and between those two soft mounds that Erk fantasized of now and then when he was trying to concentrate.

He really didn't know how to explain it as she reached for the door, to only feel his pale hands grabbing hers. She turned to receive a small chaste kiss on her cheek. Blushing, she saw the melancholy mood he had on, grumpier now that she was leaving, a feeling in his stomach making the world spin as she turned back towards the door.

"No buts. I'll be back before dinner will be served." With that she exited to meet a stranger in the hall, a maid that had often lingered around the halls she was at. When he was left at the closed door, the wooden one she had left in his face and her heart, he could start a sinking motion into the grave that every man felt, diminishing away from the face that he thought was his.

"Serra……Can't she feel it?" He didn't know if he was talking about the pit that grew in tremendous size, gulping his heart into the inky darkness, or the fact that she reacted so strangely to him. He knew that he felt a flame of power for her, a fire that seemed to burn all sense from him. Those lips taunted him and he could only stand there as those lips with the mind and spirit it belonged to walked away to the dangers he felt she was going to be in.

'Something bad is going to happen.'

LLLLLLLL

In the warm market air, a pink-haired woman looked over to some stands down the long market lane to see the phoenix a few stalls down in the warm fall afternoon. The chill had abated from the air to be replaced with a breath from the Saint of fire, Elimine's brother Helios.

Stepping away into a bookstore, the musty motes floating around with the smell of age, caused Serra to lose time. Soon enough, she felt the glow of the red sun going down against the buildings of yesteryear. Looking up, Serra grabbed a few of the books, a smile coming upon her lips as she knew that the two tomes she bought would work well for Reka's anima training along with his reading and math. Once bought, she stepped outside of the musty building to only find a concerned civilian coming up to her with a strange gleam in his eye.

"Are you Lady Serra?" He was a bit tall and gangly, much like a strange cat, almost ready to pounce, however, Serra was always one to give someone a chance before she made an unwise judgement upon them, a tolerance that she had to deal with the phoenix when they had been in war together.

"Yes." Nodding, never a denial to her nature, she saw the unseeming bulk of feline grace to seem to sigh with a confidence that she thought to never see on such a long face.

"Lady Seras asked us to tell you that she's leaving for the castle." With his message delivered, he started going away, to only smile sheepishly at her when she shouted out.

"For St. Elimine's sake! Thank you!" He had been turning towards the grand gates in the market avenue, when she turned around to only run herself into a heavy mass of muscle, to meet face to face with an assassin, eyes bold in a smirk meant for a cruelty she wasn't sure of.

"You can come with us. Lord D'Targnan will be very happy to have you." In her sight there stood a few more assassins, the sharpest daggers in all of their belt loops, making her flinch as the message ran into her head. She tried to remember where her light book of spells was, but remembered that she wasn't carrying the small book with golden filigree.

"Get away!AhHHHHHH-mmmph….." Screaming as he approached, she began to run away with all that she was worth, to only smell a strange scent enter her nostrils from a damp cloth, making everything fade away into black.

LLLLLLLLL

Sitting in the middle of the market courtyard, Seras couldn't get over the pit in her gut, wrenching as if someone purposely kept dropping pebbles into the blackness. Something was wrong. It had been over an hour since she had last seen Serra. So she kept fidgeting, wondering what she should do.

"Where is that blasted girl!" She rested upon the thought of agitation with an ease known to her by many people. Her contemptuous temper making it dangerous for all who even came near her. She would spend another hour at the most before she thought of something to do. Her mind began processing information much like a butcher's meat grinder.

Something was definitely not right.

LLLLLLLLLL

The fire-haired woman met with the sage of Etruia, her green eyes furrowed in concentration. She had not been able to locate Serra via the eyes in the sky spell she had learned to use from her father's apprenticeship, a spell that had been invented by Pent when he had been a younger and much more experimenting man. Nothing returned from the three orbs she tried maintaining when she had returned to her suite.

"Where is she, Lady Seras?" Seeing the tactician, resting now upon a chair, sweatbeads coursing gently down her face from the amount of concentration she had used with her small amount of magical ability, Erk now requested the information of his once-coupled compatriot.

"I don't know…….. This is not good………You're going to be going into the court for the next couple of days and you must say that your wife is ill at bed from…….her next child! Yes, that would be a good cover……One I can easily back." She frowned, murmuring thoughts to herself as she paced the room, moving with fast thoughts behind her legs, she reset herself on the lounging couch.

"What about finding her?"

"We will need someone who can get in and out of rough places with no scrapes……I'll get Matthew on it."

"…….I'm not sure I trust Matthew….."

"I know you're worried."

"Then get the castle guards out there finding her!"

"I can't because then she'll be even harder to find."

"Then send me!"

"You have your son here and he needs you to be here for him. I will send Matthew because he is also a people person and he knows where to go. Erk if you showed this much fervor in telling her your feelings, then she wouldn't be so questioning of herself, would she? You've got to have trust in others. " With that said, their emptying worries, enveloped the two uncomfortably, suffocating them in doubts and fears, his fingers tracing the wedding band that Seras had given them, the faked meaning of the band heavily outweighed by the thought of how real his relationship with the other band's owner as he left, moving around to his guest suite with his sleeping son.

Seras always spoke a matter of facts to him, commanding as ever. Though, he knew one woman he wanted to ask anything of him as he opened his door with hesitant fingers. Looking in to see the sleeping cherub, rotund face full of childish splendor, the sage saw everything come into a blurry line, closing the door with one hand, locking it and then resting his forehead against the grain of dark wood. Tears fell into the dark abyss of the word, moisturizing the whorls and knots, easing them into a different position.

For the second time in his life, Erk began feeling his heart break.

LLLLLLLLLL

"You wanted to talk to me, wife?" Entering into the inner sanctum of their chambers, given to them by the Marquee, for it was the Master Tactician's quarters. They had gained a living there since her elder brother had died from illness and grief from losing his twin, Michael during the years of Hector's horde attacking Nergal. The thief looked towards his working wife. She stood over papers, some from the treasury, the knight's captain, the garrison, and from her own notes. Her red hair laid on her shoulders, flowing down to guide him to her curving stomach. She was wearing a chemise that was dark red, much like her blood that would spill from any wound she ever got.

He loved that color of red on her.

In a way, she was everything he wasn't. Her fire red spirit, her busy body mind, spread out much too far for her control, and the fact that she was a workaholic was the most he could make of her, besides the fact that no matter what she did, he always craved her attention like a poison or a scent. He was like his form of dress, never straightforward, ambiguous and always laid-back. He could never be a busybody. IT just wasn't in him, unless there was treasure to get. He loved treasure.

He considered how unlikely they were and how they could be together at all if it weren't for him accidentally drinking the Afa's Drops that were given to her by Graybeard.

He really had to hand it to Lowen. After threatening to kill the man later for putting the potion in his drink of all drinks and losing his bet to Seras due to the blundering knight's blindness, Legault really wasn't that unhappy with his situation. Especially with that cute pout she had on her face……Wait, she was angry at him, yet again……..Oh, crap. He had to learn to listen better. Deciding not to tune her out to stray into his mulling, he watched her captivating face.

Saint above, damned that meddling old arch sage for those drops.

"Legault! Are you listening!" Her intensity magnified in her anger, turning around to pin his body with a murderous glare. She was not happy. He was the only person who did not mind testing her patience, though Matthew was a close second. She hated him for that and yet she fell in love with the fact that he could stand her temper and her moods that changed continuously. "You might be called in tonight but I need to know who has Serra. She was kidnapped today and I think it was for House Cornwall. If it is so, then she is in the clutches of Raven. If not then we have even more to fear."

She didn't like to think of it but she had made it so that Legault was an agent in getting information for her, but somehow she never knew what was going on his mind. If she did, at this moment anyway, she'd be glowing red in the firelight. She was worried that one night from these meetings, he wouldn't come back. Sure, she could live without him, but if she lost him in her planning, through her mind, then she would never come back from her sorrow.

She would be like Remiel and Saint Elimine knew how much she hated dealing with her bubbly and mad sister.

"House D'Targnan has been in a buzz since Serra was introduced though they knew she wasn't married to Erk because of the problem with House Cornwall a few years ago." He stated the information matter-of-factly, seeming to see through his nimble wife, her mind already processing the information and strategizing. He could see the sign of brilliance sparking behind her green eyes, emerald shines through a veil of darkness.

"I see….." Tapping her diligent finger against her lips, the cracked petals needing water to flourish, Seras returned to her work, showing no exhaustion for a woman of her stature. She was already four months along and yet she worked more than she was allowed to work. The amount of work she was doing was too much for she wasn't taking as many rests or breaks at all. He could tell by her tired yet vivacious eyes, the cracked and dry lips.

"Come here, 'Ras." His concern deepened as she stayed where she was at. A weary sigh escaped her lips when he got up to turn her around. Her shoulders easily stayed with his strong and nimble fingers, holding her up with ease. Her body sagged into his for comfort, and the security she felt with him. She'd never really voice it but she loved feeling locked in his arms, even if she was normally one not to have such affection displayed for her.

He embraced her closer and tighter than ever. His eyes betrayed his worry over his wife and their child. Legault didn't want to lose them. He really didn't want to have to one day make her pass out so that she could get some rest. He remembered drugging her a few times so that his busybody other half would get some sleep. It bugged him that he would have to do that sometimes.

"What?" Her voice was low, worried as she held back tears. Her fire red spirit gone to only be replaced by a sense of sorrow. She was afraid of having to order her husband to a battle that he would not be able to come back from. She really hated the feeling that she might one day order his death. That idea was one of many reasons why she never wanted to get married nor have children because she would have to order them into battle.

It was a tactician's downfall.

"I'm hoping to be here for you always. Are you sure this child is what you want as well?" Reassuring her fears, he placed a gentle hand on her chin, bringing her visage to his sight. His other hand held her tightly to him by the small of her back. Such a warm feeling transferred from his sight to hers. He was worried. He had always wanted children for he found them to be much fun but he never knew that he would get a woman that would have to order them to death or didn't even want one. He had always wanted to be a father, and he loved his unborn child even now.

"I will love this kid even if I'm afraid…….." She patted her stomach as if to assure herself that the bump, barely noticeable, was there. Her brother was not happy with her and having this child. Though she knew that Destin was a bit protective of her, she could understand exactly why he hated her husband though they could be civil for her. 'Especially since I am afraid.' Biting her bottom lip with a flash of whitened teeth, the tactician could only hold in wonder if perhaps she was going to give birth to a person that her family would hate, that would be horrid at the art of tactics, that would dishonor her and her name……..But she knew that this child was both of theirs so maybe the kid would turn out more like Legault than her. She didn't like the fact that he was a lazy-know-it-all, but she wouldn't mind if her kid got his street smarts. She was afraid though of having to deal with the uncertainties one got with children.

"Because she is ours." He stated it more like an ascertained answer than a question. More statement than askance as he usually preferred. Kissing her forehead with soft lips, he fisted the back of her rather red hair into his grip, showing his need to have her and this child. Seras would only be an overbearing mother, though he really couldn't blame her. She was usually on a many track mind anyway, except that those coal engines burned faster than his own.

"Mostly because she is ours." Affirming his wish, Seras didn't let her husband begin to understand her darkened fears as she held him to her for only a while to hear a maid asking for Sir Legault's presence in Lord Hector's chambers which was only a cover for the covert spy of House D'Targnan. Saying goodbye to him, Seras felt her heart sink and become icy as the coldest winter in the Northern territories. She really didn't want him to one day leave her with this curious albeit loving dilemma of a child even if that child was going to be coming in the next five months.

LLLLLLL

Okay, this is about it for this chapter! So anyway, I finally got through with my finals and so this is my gift to everyone from RELIEF! GRAAAGH YOU SCHOOLWORK! Anyway, I hope to be able to focus more on the plot, and still have a lot of the romance. I tried my best to make the D'Targnans kind of unnatural and cold, almost kind of like the type of person you never want to meet due to them just sending these weird waves that say"I AM A CREEP! BEWARE!" So, I started to get bored after awhile, but I tried to make sure that you SERKers out there get your lovely dose of fluff! I just love that scene! It was kind of like a last minute thing though, so I'm seeing what else will happen. Yay!

Okay, so since that is done, I hope to started on Chapter 10 really soon! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! LOVES TO ALL!


	11. Just For

Drunken Lullaby : An Erk and Serra Story:

Chapter 10: Just For

"_I want to take his eyes out_

_Just for looking at you_

_Yes I do_

_And I want to take his hands off_

_Just for touching you_

_Yes I do_

_And I want to rip his heart out_

_Just for hurting you_

_And I want to break his mind down_

_Yes I do, Yes I do, yes I do_

_And I want to make him regret_

_Life since the day he met you_

_Yes I do_

_And I want to make him take back_

_All that he took from you_

_Yes I do."_

_-'Just For' Nickleback_

Disclaimer: I do not own the songs I use except for the songs by Kuri and I do not own Fire Emblem.

LLLLLLLLLL

It was near the darkest hour of night, an unholy blight of darkness that caused even the most holy to tremble in their sleep from mere thought of waking at this accursed time. A certain shadow moved amongst the shadows calling them his brethren as if he were really one, moving languidly from darkness to darkness, seeming nothing more than a flicker of black in the night.

Stopping, watching a passing guard with a wary eye, the shadow knocked on a hidden door, a rhythm used as a pass code for entrance, the bouncer, a mean looking grunt under a noble's thumb opened the door to nothing but air, to only feel the caress of a cloak, hiding him from sight within the whispers of the zephyrs that embodied the deadly dealing night.

Within a room, after the door, one the cloaked shadow lifted a finger to enter, stood a rough estimate of nine-to-twelve men, each donning clothes that were more towards a rich merchant's wardrobe with a rough travel cloak. The shadow only grumbled incoherently as he knew any thief worth their salt, or rather any conspirator with brains, could tell that this bunch were still too flashy with their money. They weren't good shadows like he had always been. Pulling his cloak away to reveal lavender hair tied behind a dark violet bandanna, a scarred eye and cheek as he greeted the only man that concerned him. This was the D'Targnan compound for their servants, the bigger compound outside, behind the barred gates with the posted guards, was where the actual D'Targnans' lived.

"You called, Master D'Targnan?" Turning, his eyes adjusting to the candlelit room, a map on the table underneath a few items to keep from curling into itself, he instantly picked out the master conspirator. When Legault had first infiltrated the revolution, he had been questioned by D'Targnan himself. There were very few people that ever made Legault frightened, one he was living with, one was in front of him, and Nergal and his children didn't count since they were dead. And who knew where Jaffar was! The Angel of Death, though only at the age of eighteen when their campaign ended, had frightened the daylights often out of Legault.

He did not know how to describe his particular fear of the man, his eyes so dark and cold that it was almost like he was drowning in a pit of death if he stared, which he did anyway. He was of the same noble stature in the court of Ostia as the man before him and therefore found no reason to bow in front of such a despairing thing.

"We all did, Sir Legault." The sharply angled features of the Master of House D'Targnan frowned, curling into a disgrace towards the repungent thief that was only the means to an end. Once Legault's part was done, D'Targnan would have him killed after the takeover. The sharp-eyed man only looked disgruntled as another rebellious noble spoke up.

"Let's start then, Milord." Nodding, moreso for himself than the tiresome ire of the idiots surrounding him, except for two, Lord Raven of Cornwall, and Legault of the Talunis bitch, he started the meeting.

"As all of you have known, the priestess that the Sage Erk of Etruia has come back with, is not his wife due to the fiasco with Lady Priscilla of Cornwall in the Etruian Court about six years ago. Luckily for us, we have incapacitated the little cleric, and have decided to keep her here when our diviner finds out what we need to know." He didn't pause with his summary of the last few days events. Raven of Cornwall's dark eyes flinched at the mention of his sister's madness.

Priscilla of Cornwall had stayed in the Etruian court under the ideas of perhaps winning the hand of the soon-to-be heir, Erk, until she had been publicly rejected in front of the court. Lest to say, her insecurities in her fragile mind just added up to too much for her and she killed the Marquee's wife, Louise and a few of the more teasing nobles. Since, she had been locked away in the Keep of Cornwall near the edge of Ostia having been banished from the Court of Etruia by a heavy hearted Pent.

"What about the Sage?" Another piped in, a man from the House of Harbridge, only making a slightly shallow frown flicker in the man's eyes. He was more concerned with a simple little magic maker over a demon slayer which almost made Master D'Targnan let his dark laughter play their spines like the keys they were to his machinations.

"The Sage will be left alone. He has too much to contend with to pay much intention to us." He waived away the question with a nonchalance, an air that become very frightening once one got down to it, watching his dark eyes fall away into a mirthful thought of murder.

"What about the firebird?" Another, more concerned about the troublesome tactician, made the man of the hour frown heavily. His mirthful eyes gone away in the flash they had been flickering from his dark oculars. Somehow in someway, Seras Talunis de Ostia was their hugest obstacle in the revolution. In his view the woman was a spider, a leper to the wonderful throne of Ostia, spinning her web around every man in there.

In short, Master D'Targnan hated the woman and wanted her dead. No woman should hold a position of power due to his bigotry and biased view.

"We do not know. What is she planning Legault?" He turned towards the assassin who was standing idly in the background, as if making sure he could never be documented of taking a major role in their conspiracy. His scarred eye opened, showing an iris of milky white. Legault had his eye transformed from the normal eye it had been in a battle with another assassin that he called the Angel of Death. He had never mentioned anything more about the duel but he had lost his good nature if it was ever brought up.

The milky eye closed, back into it's secret pocket, hiding more by habit than truth. The strangest thing was that even when his eye had been stabbed, more nicked than stabbed, he could still see out of it. The milky white he had for a cornea was only scar tissue from the blade. He could still feel the blade slinking across his cornea tearing it open, tasting the coppery fluid that had run down his face. The duel had been a spar and that was more of a warning from the Angel of Death to not undermine his strength, his killer instinct.

As he thought upon the scar, he remembered his wife's view of the eye. She loved it. She didn't pity him or make him feel slightly less than he was for getting it. The firebird had thought it was beautiful, kissing his eyelid often during their bedtime enjoyments as if to remind him that painful scar along with the one in his heart were just the same to her even if he didn't have them.

He sighed, returning his heart to the plan that his wife had outlined lightly for him, making room for improvisation which was a good thing in battle tactics along with spy tactics.

"She is planning nothing right now. She's been reviewing maps and notes about the Marquee's troops from their last campaign. She's getting ready to have new drills set up. She has been spending time with the cleric, but I wouldn't think much of it. She prefers being alone than with company." His heart hurt a little as he knew that his firecracker of a wife actually loved having company, if it was pleasant enough, and to her, it was an awfully big deal when Serra ran, leaving her with a swooning Priscilla and a rather empty Erk. Pent having been the only other competently healer besides Canas, not having his eye inside his mind.

"Good. She doesn't suspect anything as of yet from your end." D'Targnan grinned, a lipless stretch of the lips that made fingers crawl up the spine telling Legault to beware even more from the sheer amount of malice within it, a malformed identity to a being closer to the supposed pivotal help than anyone thought. The former Black Fang member only knew that he hated the man almost as much as he hated being in court, which was a lot, minding his wife and making sure she never spread herself too thin with matters concerning others.

D'Targnan stopped his continuation when a servant, a haggard woman with a frown befitting a troll, much less a demon or an ogre, came over and talked with her lord in a hushed whisper. With a nod to the guards, a pair in the back wearing light armor and two swords, naming them sword masters, D'Targnan's maliciously evil grin transformed into a smile with teeth that looked as if they could cut bone from the flesh, snapping the precious marrow with a bite, a smile that stretched his fine cheeks and made him even more predatory-like in all senses.

One guard left out of a back door while the other went to the other door, the wooden barrier that had let the betrayer in the midst of a revolution of disgusting nobles left with nothing more than the intoxicating smell of poisoned power calling to them, a pursuit of life for nothing more than a title and money. An economical situation that Legault himself hated more than even his wife constantly putting herself at risk.

"Ahh! The diviner is here.." The master of the meeting turned towards the other door with a simply evil smirk, growing and decreasing each second before a cleric, a master inquisitor no doubt, stumbled in to only glance around the room with tired grey eyes and dark raven hair that was put into a messy night bun. She wore a simple tabard of grey and purple over a white chemise, a thumping of her hanging holy book at her side as she walked into the room, moving with no intention than a weariness in her to rest and get this over with.

"Lord D'Targnan's dark council, Master D'Targnan, what is it you wanted this late in the night?" She greeted the rich men, all looking pleased to see this woman with little enjoyment as if their revolution would be jeopardized. The woman herself seemed frightened of D'Targnan and yet she held herself well in the council room with a slight frown on her average aged visage.

Serra was dragged in, her feet lagging behind her somewhat half-awake lithe figure, held up by two of the burly guardsmen that were of no particular loyalty except to the glint of shining silver. The threw her, with enough force to jar a few bones in even Legault's body, at the feet of the demon constructor himself, grim smiles marking the selling of their souls as they backed away into the shadows of the other door where Serra had made her appearance from.

"We need you to divine the truth from a little runaway cleric." Legault frowned heavily as he watched the woman only glance at the abducted ex-cleric with little thought. She was devoid of emotion, a thing he never liked seeing in a healer or almost anyone in particular. People with any type of feelings were easier to predict than anyone else.

It was a trait he had learned from Seras all too well when she began teaching him a little of tactics and the use of psychology in the actual battles. Battles didn't just depend on skill, it also depended on your opponent's emotions. An angrier opponent was easier to defeat, a little hard but easier than an opponent who was always calm in the use of battle.

His moves were easier to predict, easier to avoid as he would tend to rush and use all of his energy while a calm man would be more reserve, more wild in his movements and much harder to foresee.

The cleric leaned down, no emotion or spark of recognition coming across her eyes as she placed the rune of truth upon the woman's half-awake brow, kissing it with the spell of St. Elimine, a teller of the truth. Once finished with the spell, she backed away, ordering the thrown rag doll, a tormented child upon the floor of the inquisition, to speak loudly and clearly.

"Speak your name." To make sure the spell was working, the cleric did the most basic of question of the spell, a question of identity. It was easy to screw up in some minor way while preparing the spell of inquisition. Some ingredients may get mixed up in the blue paste for the rune or the paste may have gotten too old. The only way to really check that the spell of truth was cast right was to ask a question of identity, something that was defining of oneself to speak.

"Serra De Ostia." The rag doll looked up from behind lank pink tresses, a look of indifference written upon her countenance telling of her bewitchment even more. The only other clue perhaps besides the nonchalant face was the glazed and pupil-less eyes, lost in a haze that was unconcerned with the reality she was currently in.

"Are you a sister to Hector De Ostia?" Serra felt as if she was wandering in a fog, locked away in her mind as she watched the meeting and heard the words she did not want to answer but the strangest of impulses compelled her to speak of the truth in her world of shadow and lies and light and hope. Her world was slowly being overcome by the strange voice she listened to unwillingly, whispering in her ears much like a snake in garden, hissing of its true purpose.

"He has claimed me as such." Gasps went around the entire table, silenced only by a look by the Mother, and the demon contractor, eyes of the darkest night's pitch, thrown towards all his followers with disdain. The only person who seemed unaffected was that pesky assassin of a noble, Legault De Fang but then again it was rumored that the man was not controlled by anyone unless he decided their whim was good enough.

"Are you married to Erk De Etruia?" The haze only got foggier in her mind as the question was asked in the darkness, the confusion that was around her, sleeping, dreaming, an image of a man with long purple hair that was majestic in all rights. She wanted to feel that hair within her fingers, and she knew that was what she had never felt. There in the darkness, she began tearing up for the man who her heart knew, who the questions were asking for.

"No."

"Is the boy a bastard?" The boy……….was she talking about that ray of light that she had given birth to? She must be since the words slipped out of her numb tongue, falling into the hiss of snakes and vipers moving in a den of warmth, ready to boil over in fighting and treachery.

"Yes."

"Are you a cleric?"

"Yes and No." This was different. Which was she? In the darkness, hands outstretched in her dream-like trance, eyes blurred to no lines above and beyond her senses in the dark haze that was her mind. Was she a cleric?

"What do you mean?"

"I was never exiled from my sisterhood. I am still a sister because of this however, I am not because of my having a child." She explained to the voice that stretched the words as if it were pulling string from a dismembered arm, placing it upon the violins of old. What was going on?

"Why are you here in Ostia?"

"I was summoned back to court." Ostia was the splendor of the world and yet she knew she would have never come back unless for the summoning order from Hector relayed through Erk. She felt the voice waver away into the darkness, causing her to blink the eyes in her mind, reverberating them to her body, blinking away at the scene of a woman kneeling close to her face with grey tired eyes and hard lines upon her face.

"That's all I can do, milord. Serra De Ostia, sleep now. St. Elimine may take your lying carcass in her bosom, for if she shows that love to you." The woman cast the sleep spell with the help of a wand hidden in her chemise. The sneering man, happy enough with the information turned towards his goons with a delightful smile.

"Put her back in the dungeon. Thank you, Mother Renisa." He motioned away at the mercernaries with little care on how they handled the now deep asleep liar, even leaving his back turned towards the slightly fearing Mother Renisa as she walked away, out of the wooden door that Legault had entered, to only start crying as she realized what she had done. "Let's get her to court, on the night of the Ostian Independence Ball. Then we can act on the revolution. Legault!"

The man continued on with his planning, a little more endearing than his plainly malicious smile with teeth that could frighten a child with dreams of centipedes and sharks. He called the ambiguous figure in the shadows, discovered from the darkness as all the members of the revolution turned to him.

"Make sure your wife stays her hawk eyes out of this. I don't know how she ever finds out unless the information goes out through you." The underlying threat went by unnoticed by most of the members, though the addressed assassin understood the unmentioned threat quite well. He would have to make sure his wife was even more protected or else he'd lose his heir.

Deftly hiding his true emotion of worry, he put on a face of calm reserve, one of cold facts, with his ambiguous smile in place, a double meaning, another lie that he and his wife had agreed upon.

"I am an outlaw by choice. My wife has estranged me from laying with her like a man and wife should that I have no motivation for speaking to her of this entire revolution. She has no control over a man that she can't keep in her bed." With that said, Legault's eyes glittered with the joyful mirth as D'Targnan grinned, the mouth of a shark reminding Legault that not all ogres are green and nasty. They're also some who are human.

"I see. Meeting adjourned."

LLLLLLL

The water dripped and the place around was cold. The dampness and gloomy cold draft that came in and out of the dungeons caused the guards to smile within their room, windows closed to show the inside of the dank prison cells with the stench of straw. The mold overpowering the senses with disgust and recoiling warmth as his stomach roiled and broiled amongst the edges of his sanity. A mere shadow of men, a group of burly savages with a smell akin to a dead carcass as the dungeon smell of their prisoners stayed within their clothes and slid out of their money much akin to poisonous slime, merged with the gray walled complex of deceit and insanity.

This was her world as she came to, pink hair askew, helter-skelter amongst the rubble on the floor that contained her castle in this dreamscape of lies and taint, a place of disdain and uncaring greed. For the first time since she had become a sister, before she ever met Erk, she became afraid, not just silly fright, but really fearing, stinking of the acrid scent with more power than any other stench within the immediate area.

"She's already a whore." The two voices continued their conversation with leering eyes towards her clothes, undressing her with the very tones they spoke of her with. It was true that she was a whore, giving her virginity to the man who was now heir to the country of Reglay, who had a son done with her.

"She has a bastard." She could feel her heart pound against the skin she wore, bruised and matted with a little blood, trying to escape the prison that St. Elimine had given her for her birth. She wanted to scream to do anything as she heard the men lean closer to her form, calloused fingers grasping her hair with their harsh tones, rough discoloration in the skylight of music.

"I say we fuck her."

"Hehhehehehheehehh……..Come here bitch." As one of them turned her around, Serra closed her mind away from the act, never reacting, never actually touching them. She was no longer this earth-bounded child of St. Elimine's, no longer the respectable woman she had tried to become after her first loss of innocence.

She was replaced with a doll for the time being.

LLLLLLLLLLL

A loud slam of the dungeon doors made the guards pay attention to the newcomer rather than their newest toy, the rag doll taken many times that night, ravaged with a complete waste of brutality. The person that entered was none other than a shadow, a brief milky eye coming out into view before it was closed showing the perfectly all right blue eye, the one not scarred.

His countenance was carefully masked so as to hide his care for the cleric in the corner, seeming to hide away from it all, a person of refuse waiting for the slaughter of her people, of her person, of her soul to be digested in the atmosphere of turmoiling distress and emotional discretion. Legault wanted to kill himself with anger and disgust. He had let this happen to her. His wife be damned! He cursed himself as he stared at the small frail woman that was being used by the manipulator his other half had always been, though his wife had been hysterical once they were alone after she had learned of Serra's kidnapping.

He had to contain his wife's anger and turmoil as she cried and wanted to fling herself from the balcony, wanting to kill herself for allowing this to happen, but then again, he wanted to do that as well as of this instant. Though he knew logically that he wasn't at fault for allowing this to happen, he wanted to attack everyone in the room when she had been brought in, dragged by the sword masters, holding her, mercenaries that were allowing their loyalty to be bought out by the man with the bigger purse.

Legault's mind processed his strategies that he would have done had he attacked when she was brought in. It wasn't good. There were four guards at the least within shouting distance that he knew of, even more, mattering upon how loud the men screamed. He could have taken down at least six of the nobles with throwing knives that his wife had given him, poisoned tipped so that the opponent would not get up again if the poison slipped into the bloodstream. The sword masters were probably quicker and he could tell by the sheaths of their weapons that they held silver weapons, the best that money could buy, except for his secret horde from his campaign days with his wife. They would hit him. Then there was the cleric to contend with and she was a wild card, though from her cowed expression towards Lord D'Targnan, she would have probably helped his enemies over him. There was still the sake of Serra's life in the balance along with his. Serra would die before he could save her.

The odds had not been that good at all. He knew that he would not have any chance of getting away with both of their lives. He would be with all luck if he escaped with shallow wounds. The last number that equated in his logical strategy was that Lord D'Targnan had his demon within calling distance, unless they were linked by their minds.

It was a good thing that he was patient, maybe a little too patient, but it was a virtue, a necessity in this world of gray shadows and useless broken dreams.

"What happened?" His voice echoed within the room, harsh and reprimanding of the men, the disgusting slime of mushrooms, of the black abyss that was the netherworld, catching their attention effectively. These men would pay. His mind's vow went affirmed with a tender touch to the bracers he wore, the ones with the tipped poison shurikins.

One had the audacity to grin, his arbitrary nature not that hard to be shown. They had both been of the Black Fang during the period of Nergal's power permeating the core of their one belief, their core religious precedent, a mandate once untainted due to the taint of the nobles that they were eradicating.

He could remember talking to the tactician of Bern, Remiel Talunis, the Unicorn tactician, as she was aptly called by the nobles, with her tentatively bubbly personality acknowledging his quest to restart his old home, the Black Fang. She had smiled with her bright blonde hair, the one she had gotten from his grandfather-in-law, waving in the wind of the patio. She had actually preferred having the Fang around as it was a way for her to make sure the nobles that were awful for the King to associate with, the ones that treated the peasants like insects to be killed, having a way to eradicate them with known evidence.

The other man, a slimmer savage, turned towards him as well, a frown marring his face. He had hated being under the Hurricane's thumb but they respected the known assassin.

"We had a bit o'fun, Hurricane. Maybe we can one day get that firebird that you call a wife in here. Teach her a few new 'strategies'." The whimsical bigger man let out a grin as he gestulated with his digits the exact type of strategies the man had been speaking of. Legault had to double check his skin for the merest twitch of anger at such suggestions about his wife to two nothings in men's skins.

His fingers caressed his two killing daggers that his wife had nicknamed lovingly, a simple rhyme that she had always loved from her mother, Ko and Vo, Kutolah legends in song. He moved faster than either men could blink, the two killing gems against the skin of their throats, moving with a coldness that promised death. Beady drops of blood began to form along the blade, the skin rubbing softly to be cut as Legault spoke his warning, no emotion coming out of his heart, locked down as it was, ambiguous with a grin as commanded with no expectation of rejection.

"She is not to be violated again or your families or your particular interests at this moment will be brutally maimed."

When he left, both men held onto their necks with fright, dropped onto the floor with a surprising reaction as their fingers shook. Legault's order was not to be rejected.

LLLLLLLLLL

The suite had little calming effect on Erk as he had woken up from his position right by the door. It appeared that he had cried himself to sleep and had awoken to the voice of his seed, the bright eyed young child shaking him roughly, as if he had been doing this for a time now. Erk's eyes focused upon the child with a regret showing in the dark orbs, trying his best to not speak.

His heart was punctured with the words and commands that Seras had spoken, her voice resounding in his skull as he turned towards their windows to see that it was midday by now. The boy looked frantic, wearing a few more of the other belongings that Seras had willingly gotten from the seamstress.

"Dad? Where's mom? Is mom okay?" His tiny hands clutched Erk's tunic to him, showing the red blood of his torture upon his form. The fingers grasping into him dug deeper than the mere cloth. It grabbed into his heart and squeezed the already bleeding guitar, heartstrings twanging against the sorrow and despair he felt ravishing his mind with guilt. He shouldn't have let her go.

"I really don't know, Reka. I want her to be……" His mind mumbled, telling truth and lie all in one. He had an idea but he wasn't going to know anytime soon. He wasn't sure of anything other than the fact that he wanted to die over and over for the torn look of pure terror and fright that came over his son's visage, ripping apart the brightness for all it was worth.

He didn't know that he was crying, pouring out the sorrow of all the worlds through his torn and bleeding heart, wrapping him in a blanket of painted black masquerades and horrid twilight of uncertainty as he looked at the breaking child, the act of tears upon that face caused him to let out a torn sob louder than the terror between the two of them.

"Dad? IT's okay! She's going to be okay! You don't need to cry! Please don't cry……..please don't cry……" Surprised, Reka began holding onto his father's shaking chest even more, trying to gain a foothold within this tempest of a mood, wronged in himself as he felt his own body start quivering, falling away into the inevitable understanding, the unanswered question springing the unspoken truth to him. She was gone.

He didn't know where but he had to make sure this man didn't leave him too, didn't escape into the shell that man had once had on before they had met. Tears ran down his childish face, developing into a wet spot upon his father's tunic, a bond being formed as Reka promised himself that he would be there for his father. Erk's mind making the same promise as they let out a long cry of pure pain, twisted, sadistic pain, not lost upon the minds of those around them, especially a maid who had given the man's wife to her employer, a guilty and torn look upon her fragile face.

LLLLLLLL

Seras was resting upon the bed, trying her best to get her energy to hold out for the day. She was so tired of thinking, of being, sick with herself and everyone around her. Eyes closed, she felt the child kick lightly. This child was going to be like her husband, a nuisance and probably the only thing that would settle her down. She sighed, trying to get herself up from the bed, tears that had been leaked, dried upon her rosy cheeks, told her husband of her crying session when she settled upon the thoughts of Serra's whereabouts and health.

She felt that she was responsible, leaving the woman at the marketplace like that even when Seras KNEW that it was a bad idea, though Serra mentioned that she would be careful. She swore it.

A few more tears leaked out when she fell back onto the soft bed with little will to get up.

Legault watched her, a frown on his face. It was hurting him so deeply to watch her. He was never one for her crying or rather any woman crying, but his wife's tears caused him to go into hysterics sometimes. Sitting on the bed, weighting down the edge, letting her slide to him, his fingers grasped her hair, turning the smart countenance towards his deprived eyes.

"'Ras!" He whispered so as not to be overheard by any of the maids or anyone else. She blinked away her tears as she turned her body fully around, grabbing her husban's midsection, curling herself around his body with tears in her heart and eyes, relief washing through easily. He had been out most of the night after he was called causing Seras to feel her bond through the Afa's drops to feel taunt, stretched with effort to remind her of his presence.

The assassin's lips turned upwards in a saddened smile, one of appreciation when they held bad news to be said and given to others. His face was of no exception. His diligent fingers tentatively touched her face, wiping away the vestiges of absolute sorrow.

"Calm down. You're going to overexert yourself, wife. Good. First of all, she's not okay. D'Targnan has her and the guards have already taken one liberty with her. She's been raped. I made sure that it won't happen again though. There are a few new interesting things however. They had a diviner for Serra to know now that she's lying. They're going to bring her to court at the Ostian Independence Ball. They're also going to act on the revolution that night."

"Have they decided anything about Lyndis?"

"She's wasn't mentioned."

"What about Erk and Reka?"

"Too busy to care. What is going on your little mind, 'Ras?"

Her eyes had sharpened from the clouded features they had been with misty tears blocking the way much like a fog in the green woods of the earth. Her mouth flat lined upon her gentle face, creating a stern look of knowledge, a glint of strategy speaking through that lifted fog.

"We strike the same night, when they bring the charges up. Get our assassins ready. Alert Jaffar."

"But he's been missing for a few years hasn't he?"

"No. He's been hiring himself out."

"How do you know this?"

"Where do you think I go for company? As you know, you're not exactly the best company I ever have." She frowned, mentioning a barb towards her husband, unhappy with the fact that he was gone all night leaving her to herself and her overactive mind, the link between them nearly useless, just letting her know that he was living.

"Let me go get some ice for that burn from your wicked tongue. So is that what you did when she was captured?" Putting a hand on his heart, the one that beat so fast for the bird lying down around him as if to try and keep him with her whilst she stayed within their nest. He gave her a mock pained look, casting away with her words as simple as throwing away some of her burnt cooking. She was not a good cook.

"Yes. Jaffar understands the words of me getting in touch with Nino. He doesn't want her to know where he is. She'll leave his children and he had no choice but to leave. He's hunted still." He thought upon his neice-like friend. Nino, though young, had started a family with Jaffar to only have the dolt leave her after their twins were both five. He didn't know how serious their situation had been, but Jaffar never broke a promise to Nino before then and he knew that Jaffar only broke that one for his children and her own safety. He never thought of himself when it came down to his family.

"Poor kid. Nino hasn't had exactly a good life and he only made it harder for her."

"He knows. He doesn't want her in danger. Ask for Ferid. That's his alias as of right now. He'll do it when you tell him I ask it of him. He owes me a few favors and knows that I want them returned." A serious look passed upon his face as he thought of his wife's gentle brow being marred with blood. He had easily bypassed the guards that she had set by their door and that was NOT good. He didn't want anyone who was better at his job than him to get by and mar his wife with her own blood, leaving her to die.

"Who will guard you when I'm gone?"

"I'll have Destin stay with me most of the day, along with Rath." Seras had already come up with a plan. Rath was the most watchful of Lyndis's guards and he understood when to be completely silent, though they occaisionally had a few conversations in Kutolah. He was also trustworthy and if Lyndis didn't pose a problem to the D'Targnan man then it would be perfectly all right to ask for his help in protecting herself.

Destin was another story. She had to get something she dearly needed from her brother.

"Are you going to get his support?" His eyes questioned the sanity of his wife, bargaining herself and the lives of everyone around her as if they were nothing more than pieces of silver to be weighed upon the scales of fate. Her eyes spoke volumes as she closed them and opened them with a new determination, raising up on her hands from lying down, curled on her husband after his return like a contented cat.

"Yes."

LLLLLLLL

Okay, this is a rather short update! I didn't want to get too into the plot before any fluff came. Don't worry there will be some fluff up ahead. AND DON'T WORRY! SERRA GE-

Erk: Don't give away the plot!

Okay, anyway, PLEASE REVIEW! LOVES TO ALL!


	12. Keep Singing

Drunken Lullaby : An Erk and Serra Story:

Chapter 11: Keep Singing

'_Another rainy day_

_I can't recall having sunshine on my face_

_All I feel is pain_

_All I want to do is walk out of this place_

_But when I am stuck, I can't move_

_When I don't know what I should do_

_When I wonder if I'll ever make it through.'_

_-'Keep Singing' Mercy Me_

Disclaimer: I do not own the songs I use except for the songs by Kuri and I do not own Fire Emblem.

LLLLLLLLLL

Walking in the upper eastern wing of the palace, one small mageling turned the corner to view the opening of the grand library, a place that was considered one of the most complete even by Etruian standards which were high. The door was swung open with a large doorstop in the shape of the Saint's cat, Hera, the moon sitting upon the pure wooden icon, runic writing upon the body engraved with silver moon dust that had been grinded on the night of a full moon.

Hera was given the domains of the moon and guarding intelligence against those who stole the mind for their own purposes and the clarity of the future. Instantly, Reka wanted to pet the animalistic icon to ask for the truth he was in search of, the hope he dearly needed to hold onto his own mind before he went mad with the numbness that came with long unyielding terror.

The boy, however, kept his hand away from the idol to only wander through the ornate and rune-carved door, golden dust embalmed into the carvings. The main woodwork was of Saint Latona and Saint Elimine with their arms outstretched towards the sky, reaching forever in the dark mahogany to never reach the outstanding moon, Diane, who was crying her tears to the bottom of the door where dragons and tigers all moved fluidly in a border.

Reka had always been open for his strange fascination for the woman on the moon who was considered to be the ephemeral fantasy of the old pagan lord of the stars, Lord Orion. For every night Diane came out, it was told she was waiting for the Lord to awaken beside her and the nights she was not out, she became his bed mate. But most of all in the day time, if the image of the moon was seen at all, it was told that Diane had come to a man on Arcadia, in his dreams to be his fantasy.

Walking past the decorated wood into the smell of the musty pages of old, the young mage felt at home within the large room, filled with case after case of tomes holding knowledge like the precious gem that intelligence was, coveted by the leather bindings and colorful scripts. The writing in them all were the memories of a man, woman, or child putting themselves into history, giving those writers their immortal souls within the words that they had penned down upon old papyrus dried in the sun.

An elderly man from a desk, rather standard for a man of his office, rose upon his firm hands to look towards the wayward and gazing youngster, a bright child with all appearances of intuition and a keen memory. The elder could tell, from the memory of another young man like this one, that this was the child that he had been informed of.

"Oh, Lord Erk told me that a little boy might be coming up here. I'm the master librarian, Repue Yang de Etruia. Please feel free to read whatever you fancy, child." Repue was at first impression a hard lined grandfather, seeming strict with the many lines amongst his besotted face, though this was the answer to the contrary. He was no grandfather, a rather promiscuous man all his life, mostly jovial, like a Saint Nicholas, and most of all, his face was only spotted with many old chicken pox spots he had gotten in his late teens.

Reka wondered upon his eyes the most as they showed a life that had been hard and yet was still open to it, never giving up, never wanting for anything more than he had or once had. Biting his lips, reaching for the man, Reka's tentative fingers grasped upon the elder's cloak with ease, tugging the fabric towards him. The older man turned around to look at the child, asking with his eyes and not his speech upon what the child wanted.

"I'm looking for a book on demons." The boy's whisper was light, trying to be rather unheard of. Dark mages were looked down upon, considered a bit more than scum but nothing else. It was known that many shamans and druids went mad with the dark powers of the magical spectrum.

"Demons? Why would you look into that? Are you trying to become a shaman?" The man looked slightly surprised at the young child, unsure whether or not to allow this child access to the dark realm of his library. That is until a certain redhead came to mind. He sighed. He would have to follow her orders to not bar the child's inquiries and to tell no one what the child was interested in.

The boy seemed hesitant. Holding a small curled fist to hide his uncertainty, Reka stared at the older man before deciding upon an answer that would seem satisfactory for the man.

"I want to read them………in case…..uh…I ever have to fight one! I'd hate not knowing." Reka watched the man's actions, contemplating whether or not he should leave now and save the man breathe or wait for the hope of a simple allowance into the grand library of Ostia.

"Well, they're in the back next to a few ancient tomes in Draconic. Now the Draconic is under lock and key under the Marquee's order." The man didn't allow any emotion to flit across his face as he watched the child begin to leave him to his work, before turning around abruptly. Repue watched the child with a critical eye that was obtained after many years of being an ex-assassin for the dead father of the current Marquees.

"Thank you, Master Yang." The child gave a small smile before scampering softly to the back of the library where many of the draconic texts were locked up, which to Reka was unimportant for his search. Lady Seras, the one and only from all his bedtime stories, had personally saw him when she went to visit Erk early that morning. Reka had been serving his father, the Lady, and himself with tea when she had cast her attentions upon him.

He remembered how in awe he was that she spoke to a whelp like him. Reka had been easily frightened by the eyes she had. He could tell that she was intelligent with an aura of busyness. Her body was always in motion when she spoke and it was hard for Reka to imagine the woman tactician to sit still.

She had gently addressed a factor to Reka about the library being open to him and Erk if they had wanted complete access, even to the draconic texts, which by Erk's surprised visage was completely unheard of. Apparently, she had enough influence in the kingdom that she could get permission to open forbidden doors in which Reka was unsure whether or not that power had been able to corrupt her thoughts. His mother had spoken highly of the woman, but had always warned him to never place his heart in a tactician's knowledge.

Tacticians used anything at their disposal. There was a saying that whatever a noble threw out became a strategist's glory. However, Reka dared to think that there was a possibility of trustworthiness from the obviously talkative woman as she counseled Erk upon the matter of the Houses, not being too vocal, yet still voicing her concerns enough that Reka understood.

If it was a demon that a house was using, he should be able to find out what type by research. Afterwards, he had left to visit the library, unknowingly being used by Seras Talunis's mind.

"I hope he read the sign to not try anything without a cast of protection and barrier." The old man shook his head wondering what the tactician had wanted the boy to so desperately search for in the demon section of the library. Sitting down at the desk of his station, the old man frowned at the thought of that conniving woman.

As far as he knew it, there were only three times she had gone too far in her tactics with her soldiers. She had once used dead bodies as a cover against an overly powerful enemy when her band was still weak and not so strong. Another time, she had sent in a hostage into the enemy camp, without any protection, and had the camp massacred within an hour's time of nightfall. The last time he had heard was when she had involved an overly zealous child to take the life of a man that had stood in her way during the war. It was said she had given the child the dagger, defended the child, and allowed the child the coup de gras that the child had wanted. Afterwards it was said that the child had killed itself when they found out the true murderer of its family was a mere bandit from the spidery woman.

Repue only shook his head. If he didn't say anything then he wouldn't be brought to attention by that woman and that was the one thing he wanted.

In the back of the library, Reka started looking for a book that could maybe contain the information he wanted. Although he was young and many of the books were written in archaic script, he had no trouble due to the fact that magic flowed through his veins. The archaic writings on the spines rearranged by magical means to make sense to his eyes.

Glancing upwards, he began hearing the mutterings of a woman in the stony silent library. He frowned, pursing his lips; he looked in the next aisle behind him to catch the sight of Lady D'Targnan, the one with milky irises and black hair that reminded Reka of the darkest night he had ever found himself wondering in or a nightmare that he could not wake up from. Her eyes seemed as if they were eaten out and put in backwards to hide the fact that her irises were devoured.

He immediately froze hearing her voice. It was sultry and dark compared to her milky white skin, as if perhaps she had never belonged in the dark haired body than he did in his best friend's. He shuddered, pressing himself well against the wood of the library book case.

"Where is it? Cena said it would be in here." Who was Cena? His thoughts ran rampant. Reka knew innately not to trust this woman and thus he tried to keep his presence hidden from either her senses or her sight. She turned away from him, facing the texts that were against the wall in the very back of the shrine of knowledge. "Bah. How do you break such a small seal as that? Cenalis is wrong. It must be in the draconic texts. That jewel on her necklace will be broken yet."

'Who's Cenalis?' His thoughts varied up many answers but the fact that she was talking about a jewel on a necklace and the breaking of a seal. Breaking of seals usually meant whatever was going to be broken for was highly forbidden or only used in emergencies. Taking the notes in his head, he glanced once more to see the woman muttering, head bowed to her hands in thought, walking towards his end of the aisle.

'Oh no! She's coming this way!' Without thought, which he considered much later being a really stupid idea (Maybe Ikus **was** rubbing off on him.) and he never wanted to do it again, he cast an invisibility spell. However, due to a nature he did not know was apparent in the building, Reka felt a suctioning feeling, drawing him into the wood, the very essence of the papyrus and paper. It was painful nonetheless and he didn't know how much time had been spent between the feeling, the casting, and becoming aware that he was now nowhere but inside of thoughts. A thousand brushed his mind as if in greeting, many with the voices of the authors.

However, it wasn't until a certain passage being read out loud caught his attention to try and open his eyes. Well, he was on a letter. No, really, a letter.

This caused him such shock that he took a brain vacation for at least a few more moments.

'Okay, now that I'm stuck on a let-' He let logic begin however to have it halted by another of those voices brushing his mind however to stay for a time longer than thought of. It took a moment, but with his eyes over the fact that he was sitting on a letter, a man sat beside him, a frown marring his visage with obvious distaste.

'Boy……..who are you to invade us?' A gravelly voice rang out in his mind, loud and demanding. It was the sound of an angry grandfather, frowning heavily and reprimanding for a punishment. However, his mouth never moved from the set line in his face. Reka felt shudders go through his body at this strange revelation, almost as much as if he was looking at that creepy lady he had tried to hide from.

'Wha! Who's there?' He tried to speak with his mouth, but his lips never moved for he seemed to feel as if there was no body to command. His mind questioned for him and the frowning elder man seemed to nod in thought before a gentle woman, a matron of some sort, appeared on the letter beside them.

'Another spell caster! Blast! Don't you ever listen to your elders, boy?' He noticed her stature was in form of an elder as well but certainly not as ancient as the grandfather figure. She seemed to send her emotions of scolding through her mind to his as if wrapping her essence around his body, forming warmth to surge through him.

'Yes…….' He wanted to frown, wanted to turn away from her essence much like the child he was, but that he knew would not work. It seemed as if he was set into the pages like these voices, pure thoughts.

The woman seemed to become gentler as she felt his psyche spike into shame. This boy was only a child and she truly had no want to be angry with him as she could see in his eyes a great need of the knowledge they possessed. 'You cast a spell in the library with out a protection or barrier spell.'

'Am I stuck in here for long?' The boy did not seem to hear her as he seemed to try to find a way to move his body, forcing his mind to focus with all of his mana in his body. The grandfather frowned at him, rather the feeling of a frown wrapped around him causing him to lose all concentration in this strange trap.

'I think it will be all right. We should impart our knowledge.' Another voice echoed through him, a cheerful one with a bright tone to it. He felt a sense of her immortality as he seemed to breathe her sunshine in from the despair in his mind, a fresh breath. Somehow, she reminded him of Ikus and Nyne.

'Knowledge?' His voice questioned out in the oblivion around him, taking notice of the teenage girl who seemed to have a permanent smile on her face that never moved, along with the motherly woman who only held a sad smile, leaving the grandfather with his grumpy look. He desperately wanted to help his mother in anyway he knew how and getting information was the first thing to do.

'Yes, you came to research demons.' The matron's eyes, a shallow gray, seemed to deepen as if she was to be overwhelmed into sorrow. He got the feeling from her that she had dealt with demons in her life while she was writing her book. The grandfather seemed to send even darker feelings at him, causing the young boy to shake them off. The girl was the only one who was not sending her thoughts out.

'Yes. Dad said something about a demon taking mom.' He felt himself fall away from them, sending pictures of his memory to them to only hear their silence instead. They were troubled only slightly, except for the unflappable old man. He seemed to chuckle at the youngling and frown at the same time.

'Oie and what's this one's name? The boogie man?' He growled out in Reka's young and challenged mind, seeming to make the growl into a war cry that made Reka want to curl up against his mother as he seemed to search his mind for any way to explain a name or anything.

'I think it's that Cenalis per-' All three seemed to gasp and be shocked by varying degrees in their emotions that were reeling through his mind. They were quite interested now.

'Inform him.' The mother interrupted his thought and seemed to send a feeling of distinct coldness towards the grandfather sitting down on the letter. He seemed to affirm and let her know so without Reka noticing.

'Cenalis……..hm…..Cousin to Formatiis, a master demon in his own right. He was imprisoned in a teardrop of a phoenix that was crystallized by a gorgon before it was able to heal a hero two thousand years ago. ' He started his rote, sending a few images here and there, the young girl helping every once in awhile. Time passed but nothing that Reka knew of was time. There was no essence to keeping track of the time around him in this current trap that he was caught up into.

'Hurry! That Erk is here!' A voice of the matron came harried and the emotions of urgency seemed to wash over him. They had to hurry! He was nowhere near finished. The elderly man frowned even more, sending more intense images of the demon he was to fight.

'THAT NUISANCE! He leaves us open on our spines and everything! HURRY!' A second voice came into his barrier, sending her own images, her own memories of the demon. The matron trying her best to help with all thoughts, that was until a voice broke through every one of their thoughts.

He was aware of white and gold, an essence enveloped him whole and he knew he was not on the letter or in the papyrus anymore. He was in the space between nowhere and everywhere, here he was stuck in a limbo that was more comforting than the books. She seemed to smile in laughter and she was old and yet still young in everything she seemed to do.

'I'll just show you, child, everything about Cenalis, the demon of the phoenix.' He felt a mother and a child, a saint's power exude through his mind, images going through him. He was in a desert, a warrior, a gorgon, a phoenix, and he was still none of them. He saw the battle, felt their sweat and blood, drank their tears, was turned into stone, and yet he had never moved from the spot between. The essence cupped his cheek during the process and seemed to stroke his head.

'AHHH!' He screamed as he felt every wound at once, turned into stone dozens of times, and drank into the final poisons, but he was not killed. His mind warped and yet the presence never left until the end when he had learned everything, tears coursing their way down his apple-dapped cheeks, caressing them with the terror he had felt.

War was not kind. His eyes had opened and he knew that he had to help his mother. The woman smiled, a child echoed behind her eyes.

'This is good bye for now, my dear child.' Her essence seemed to swell for one last time before fading away back into the land where the authors resided. She was kind and gave him one last stroke before drifting back towards the books, the place he had come from.

'W-Wait! Wh-Who are you?' He reached out a hand in wonder, hoping to the Saint that everything had been true, that she was right. He could not be wrong.

'Saint Kinias, the dragon saint who is worshipped by the dragons. I was present there. Those are all the memories from my time and the library's other authors.' She waved him away, a sad countenance left in her wake as he felt the suctioning feeling and began screaming in agony. The feeling was still not pleasant from the first time he had done it.

"Reka!" His father's face blurred into his vision as he groggily lay on the aisle floor, the coldness seeping through his prone form. Erk's dark eyes were the first things that came clearly to the hazy child and what he saw there caused Reka to smile distantly. His father really did love him. At the time it seemed a frivolous idea to even think such a thing, but Reka could not help himself to the thought. His father's concern shined, tears threatening the edges of his amethyst oculars, shimmering in all feelings only a parent would truly feel.

"D-dad?" His voice sounded hurt, as if the actions were hurting him but Reka was miles away from his body, humming with the energy of a thousand suns and at one with himself, a thing that was not easy even for master sage generals to do. Smiling, at his father, being scooped up into the sage's arms with ease, Reka knew that he was safe and began drifting silently, when he realized that he had to tell his father what he had learned.

"Are you okay?" Erk's heart had stopped when Repue, an older man that had been the librarian of Ostia's library far before Erk could remember, had come to get him, After discussing tactics with Destin, who had come to have a small talk with him and to get his younger sister. Destin had taken his sister aside and left with her in town, saying his general farewell with less enthusiasm as he had said his hello.

The Master sage felt his heart calming down a little from the major scare he had gotten, finding his son in a book, which was never on the normal standards to start a relationship with a maybe-lover, especially since this woman he wanted, the boy's mother by all degrees, would not take to that too kindly. It was also something he never would want to experience as a father.

He had known a few of his mage friends, back in the Academy at Etruia, who had used magic spells while in the library and had disappeared into the books forever, becoming a lesson for all other students. Holding his son in his arms, Erk came to the conclusion that nothing felt better than holding this young bundle in his arms. Lifting his son up, he embraced the child tightly against his body then let him lay in his arms relaxed, as he walk back to his suite. No feeling in the world could beat his relief, or the sense of love he felt for the child and the strong he felt when he held his seed to him.

Nothing would beat that.

Except maybe knowing if he loved Serra.

LLLLL

Across the halls to the outside courtyards, in one of the gardens, walked two tacticians, and this joke was not including a priest. One of the strategists, the man, held himself aloofly as they walked, a long brunette braid resting on his shoulder, and his arms resting on his chest that was clothed in a light royal blue tunic with golden embroidery. The shorter of the two companions, dressed in a fine red and gold empire waist court dress, golden braids along the hems, was leaning over to sniff a hyacinths before winter dressed it away in the cold. Her warmed darkened red cloak rested on her shoulders, draping her form and creating the noticeable budge in the small of her back where two knives, gifts from their father, rested, ready to slide out of their sheaths at their master's call.

The brunette seemed to hold onto a disinterested expression as the fire-bred woman sat down on a nearby fountain edge, resting a hand upon her abdomen. The blue one, as he could aptly be called often, sat down beside her, looking into the garden paths from their entrance in the maze. His sister had broken the news of her childe to be and he had not taken it in as joyously as the father of the childe had. Destin was too worried about his sister. She was basically sitting on plans that were ready to topple and kill her and the throne of Ostia.

Though he did admit that Seras played the Game of Houses quite well but eventually something would go wrong, like it could always do. His sister should be celebrating her motherhood and not going around gallivanting as if she was not pregnant with a child, like their older sister had when she had her two children.

"Brother! We need this from you." Looking at him, whispering harshly, a low whisper that was barely given breathe for the urgency it had held in her voice, the harsh words coming across no more lighter than any thing else that was weighing upon the elder childe's mind. His green eyes were hushed against the onslaught of light that suddenly became bright as he raised his eyes skywards.

"I don't want to be involved in any of those plans you have in your head. Seras, look, I know how you work. Always have, remember? Between us both, I'm the better tactician." He turned to her to frown, watching his crafty little sister intently, hoping to find her next move in the chess game that they held often from within their minds with their own leaders. The woman beside him frowned in thought, a few tendrils of her hair, obscuring her green eyes, the very same eye color that had spawned from their mother, a Kutolah strategist, and the one he shared with her.

"That is why I want your support." Her voice seemed to be choked as if she was biting down on her outraging emotions, the ones that often times had gotten her into trouble with her husband and any manner of man she had ever been around. Destin reined in a curved grin that was waiting to come out as he watched his youngest sibling deal with her emotions. Unlike his other siblings, Destin felt a single connection with his younger sister that was made stronger over time ever since their mother had died. Michael and Leifander were too old, as the twins were eleven, to really connect with Destin, who had been seven, and Seras, who had been five, while Remiel had suddenly had all the matronly duties thrust at her at the age of nine.

He had watched over his younger sister and cared for her safety indefinitely, even to the point to threaten her husband and her own lord if she was injured or killed while in her service for Ostia. Destin had never become that close with his siblings and had been down right hated by their father for his incomplete apprenticeship underneath the man, allowing his younger sibling to become the apprentice in his stead when he went to learn far away from their manor to the rich books of Etruia and Ostia, where he had inconsequently met his friend Erk.

Seras was being too serious now which was unlike her and Destin now understood that this would be one of many turning points in the plan she held in her head in secret. He would have to make sure that he was not just being used by the woman's annoying and always changing emotions, which had dulled a little over time, probably due to the matter of her domestication by her husband, the black heart, Legault.

"No, it isn't. I need to know." He reached a hand, caressing the outcast strands of hair that obscured her eyes from him to behind her ear. She instantly seemed to jump at the touch. Legault had been the only person to touch her, besides Serra, in years. Neither Destin nor her bubbly sister, Remiel, had held her or even had skin contact with her in so many years that the touch was foreign.

Her eyes looked as open as tears began to develop, twisting and bubbling up from a fountain of fear, she usually kept efficiently down. It really amazed her how she was always confusing herself with the delusions that she was able to go on even in the face of death. In this game of Houses, she was laying not only her life, but others as well and that was what made it harder for her. She didn't want people to die, her childe to die, her husband, her brother, none of them should have to die to resolve this.

Destin often told her that her resolution was just a petty ideal, and she knew Legault agreed but that was what he had loved about her. She still held ideals even when people died around her.

In short, she was very afraid to lose any of them.

"I may not be here when it goes down." Her mouth trembled as her hands did as well, wringing the braids of her empire waist, having undone the bow long before as they had walked amongst the gardens. It was not well-known that Destin and Seras were siblings. Destin claimed he was from the House of Irynas, their mother's name, since he considered his father lower than even his eldest sibling that had willingly worked for Nergal as a tactician. In fact, there were only a handful that knew of his true name as Destin Talunis, his family, (two sisters) his best friend and tutor for years, Erk, his liege, Lyndis, and lastly, Legault, whose own true name was not known to any of them.

Staring at his sister, Destin felt his heart begin beating incessantly in panic. She had always caused a panic, much reminding him of his time with Serra, left and right causing more destruction than not. A strong sense of protection came over him as his features scowled in darkness, an arm reaching for her other shoulder, pulling her closer.

"My death is a must-have for the resistance. In order for the confrontation to even happen, I will be dead." After a few moments of silence, getting her mind in complete order so that she could tell him a little of her plan, so she could plead for help. "Look……..My people, Ostia, will need help in getting the demon out of the courts."

Destin sighed as he drew her to him, finding it quite strange that she was accepting his affections, since she normally claimed that she could not be bothered with such notions, but then again, Legault had probably changed her a lot. She was calmer than normal and more worn out. He sighed. He had never been able to really refuse his youngest sibling unless he considered it highly frivolous.

"You know I love you." He kissed her forehead attentively, wrapping his other arm around her in an awkward hug, holding her closely. Seras smiled in contentment. She had always felt secure, maybe angrily but secure, in her brother's arms. It was the sense of dependency only he had ever been able to give her that caused even her husband's dependency to be questioned.

"I love you too." In her return, she nuzzled deeper into her brother's chest, smelling the faint smell of sunflowers that he preferred simply because it reminded him so often of his favored archer, but that was a story for another time. The only onlooker onto this sight was a young maid servant that was quite shocked at the two, not knowing of their family ties to each other and began to form thoughts that would pass the information she was watching from the shadows of the hedges to her true master.

LLLLLL

It was midnight, the time of complete obscurity within the lighted chambers of the tactician's suite. Two figures lay against each other, resting it seemed, until the bigger of the two rolled gently out of the bed, disentangling himself from the smaller figure in the bed. The small figure's eyes flashed open revealing grass green oculars, wide in understanding and fear of loss.

"You're going aren't you?" Her voice echoed against the quiet night, seeming to unwind the magic spell of sleep she was supposed to be in. Her husband turned to her, belting a bandolier filled with magical orbs with the attributes of the particular type of magic. Seras stared. She didn't know what to say.

"It's been three days. I won't be suspected." It was like watching another soul sent off to fight in a war she was fighting to end, her first mock battle, and her first fling. Seras had only had two men before Legault, one being another assassin who had been part of her team at her graduation exam, and the other being an honest cavalier in the first army she had assembled underneath her brother, Leifander's, watchful eye.

"Please, both of you, come back safe and sound." She could remember when the cavalier had gotten up from their sexual exploration; putting his clothes and armor on, checking everything to make sure he would still be able to guard her. That cavalier had died taking a lance through the chest when Seras had been shooting at a rogue Pegasus knight. Her first lover, the assassin, had been caught off guard by a magic blast that had been sent by the men that had lost to Seras in an earlier battle. She had watched him rise up and put on his clothing and weapons also before being decimated in a matter of minutes. She got her revenge on the men that had done both, one by arrow, and the others by daggers.

"I will, Seras." She never wanted to see Legault do it. He turned to her, bracers strapped onto his wrists, and stretched his hand to caress her cheek, bending over, lavender hair falling over his shoulders which were wrapped in his dark clothing. He gently kissed her cheek, licking her cheek from a tear before he backed away enough, opening the milky white eye.

"How are they not going to tell its you?" Her voice seemed empty as she rose up and touched his cheeks. She loved that eye. It was a scar that was open to her and showed her everything she ever knew to be true. No matter how cloudy it became, she had no trouble discerning his blue gaze from underneath the milky white scar tissue.

The man was a troubled soul, resting more times than not within her arms, a haven he deemed to constrain him. His desire was to wait until Seras could get a replacement in Ostia before they could restart the Black Fang, his deepest desire only to be granted by his fierce wife.

She was scared and he was the only one besides her brother that may have been able to notice it.

"I have a good disguise. You might say that there will be two of me." Kissing her forehead once more, he raised an amulet imbued with the powers of St. Elimine that had been altered specifically for his wife, to her neck. As soon as the amulet touched her skin, Seras, who had a low immunity to sleep spells, feel asleep instantly. The last image of her shadowy husband left behind for her to contemplate on before the darkness consumed her into a torrid bliss was that milky eye, a scar for her to look upon in the dusty battlefield." I had our esteemed Sage Master cast a protection spell on it. You will be woken up if anyone comes in besides me. So sleep well, my dear."

As he rose, after fastening the chain around her neck, Legault sighed and finished preparing for a battle that very may well cost his life as he had been living the life of a noble for some time.

He just hoped to the Saint that his skills weren't too rusty.

LLLLLLL

Eternity in the darkness with nothing but her prayers for her company, along with a few rats here and there, were to be emptied as the pink-haired woman, who had no longer been touched by any of the guards after a man came, looked up at the sight of two heads in her view.

Normally, Serra, who really hated bloodshed, would scream her guts out and hide in the nearest corner with her hands on top of her head but she didn't really react as she would normally. For some strange reason, she registered that she was satisfied that these heads belonged to the guards. Their expressions torn in surprise, awe, and lastly fear. They had been left in their final moments in the way she had felt after they began their violation of her.

The blood dripping from their necks was proof of their death. A single hand held both decapitated heads. Serra, numbly, followed from the hand to the eyes that she see. The being was darkness itself and the only way she could tell it was a person and not just the strange pulsing darkness in the dungeon was those eyes. They were brown and the ex-cleric knew she had seen them somewhere before, but the reason never seemed to come as she stared.

His other hand was extended in front of her sitting form. For some reason, Serra returned to herself, begging her heart and mind to hide these events away in the deepest sea chest she could find in her mind so that she may never view or feel these events again. There was only one thing on her mind. She had to get back to Reka.

Grabbing the hand as firmly as she could, she raised herself up with the help the familiar face could give her. She stood for a few moments, getting used to her body again, and turned a questioning look at the man, who stood taller than her by a foot and a half, which was quite tall and for some reason, he smelled of faint saffron, a desert scent.

She had to get to Reka, her only light of the sun and hope, her childe that she had bore from her womb. Serra never felt any desire more strong at that moment, though concern for Erk came close to her son. She stared at the man hard. Never look a gift horse in the mouth.

"We're going to escape." Those words were low and nearly swallowed up by the darkness around him if it weren't for the slight puff of air she saw escape his visage, or what she thought to be his visage. She was not sure yet. Right now, this man was a god send, even if his entire demeanor was familiar to her, but that was something to be sorted from the most recent and most important mission for her to do. She had to leave. They **had** to leave from this hell. "We have to leave now."

He held her hand in his own, dropping the heads onto the cold stone ground. Serra, being tugged, yelped out loud as her muscles screamed at her with their pain and misuse, the abuse she had been put through a small reminder. Holding her free arm around her stomach, she began tearing up as she felt as if hell could never be this hot from the stretched and fractioning heat that rose up from her complaining body.

"Drink." The man stopped, reaching into some unseen part of himself and drew out what seemed to be a holy object. A vial of blue liquid sloshed around as he uncapped the top with his teeth and held her mouth to the vial, letting the vile drink to be forced down her throat. The woman squirmed, tears forming due to the extremely bitter taste of the medicine.

In her mind, fully awakened from her drawn out spirit experience, Serra marveled at how quick the medicine worked and realized that this stranger must have used an elixir on her which was not that easy to come by, especially since they were made with the rarest and most expensive herbs.

"Thank you." Feeling her mind function fully, the darkened female voiced out her graciousness, a small smile gracing her lips in the darkness. He nodded, pulling her with one had and putting the vial away in a pouch at his side. As they raced up the dark steps where a small torch light could be seen, others in the barred dungeons that they passed were blissfully silenced with sleep or death, the desert man spoke to her with instructions. if we get in battle." Serra frowned. She didn't know how to get out of here by herself. The man stopped, motioned for her silence as well, then peered around the corner, relieved a bit to see that the guard change was not to be, as he knew that the guards in the barracks were dead.

"How will I find you then?" After the needed moment of silence, she tugged on his cloak to face him in the torchlight as they turned into the landing at the top of the stairs where the guard room had been. Speaking her question lowly, she got to see his skin which was a dark tan with eyes of brown cinnamon which bordered on dangerous. This man looked tired as if he had been running his whole life hoping to find his something to keep him there.

He was tired just like she was tired, except there was a set amount of determination, hers in getting back to her son and her sage, and his with keeping whoever he was protecting safe from harm. Serra was sure that the person he was trying to protect was not her. The familiarity though in his features made her grin.

She had needed a familiar face whether or not she could face it if need be.

"Here. This will make you invisible for ten minutes. Only use it when you must. Magic can alert the enemy easily." He grabbed her other hand at her side and rummaged a bit in the darkness of his figure, a tendril of dark red hair poking out from his hood. He wrapped her fingers finally around an amulet of power that had been made by Erk that very afternoon for Legault, for a reason he had no idea of.

Serra nodded and the two began their careful trek through the manor of one D'Targnan fortress, complete with demon and the dead.

LLLLL

There were hallways and even more hallways at every turn, with an occaisional guard or servant passing by to end up with no more breath left in their system. Serra watched almost cruelly as innocents, or what seemed like innocent people were killed before her. She watched silver blades, beautiful tools of death, become washed with the crimson essence of life, feeling as if she was the ones to use them instead of the man protecting her.

Her thoughts upon the man were frightening to herself. He scared her. That was about it, but he was a familiar fright, much like the unknown to something that is known. Serra knew enough or recognized enough that he would leave her behind if he was allowed to, which made her realize that Seras was the one who probably hired him.

Serra knew that she could trust him but never completely.

It was just the amount of deaths that were mounting up as she was being led around. Another servant rounded a corner to begin a scream at one look at their ragged clothing. The man had no blood on him compared to Serra, who seemed to be washed into dirt and grime and shadows caressing her face as if she was no longer a woman of standing. It only took a moment for the servant to open her mouth before a blade sliced across her throat, blood spurting into the darkness as they ran by, cautiously looking this way and that as if they had just littered some old garbage on the side walk.

The little cleric felt disgusted by her reaction as she watched the blood fall away. She was frightened, almost too scared to care what happened, but her stomach revolted, like it would normally during battle. She had cried at night when she was fighting in the campaigns with her tacticians and the other fighters.

Reaching out a hand to end up being pressed against a grey stony wall, Serra stopped, bending her head down and catching up on her breath. She had never had this much excersize and her body was not use to the rapid movement. Her lungs were on fire, her stomach sloshing violently causing tinges of naseua to provoke through her. Her other hand clutched at her heaving stomach as she took a breather from all the running away. The man stopped as well, turning around to look at her with a concerned look in those dark brown eyes that reminded her of cinnamon in mulberry wine.

"We can't rest until we get out." She frowned as she took a few more breaths then began to stand up when he pressed a palm against her shoulder, turning to give a warning from his eyes then disappeared down the hallway. A loud scream was heard as shouts of men echoed out in the grey corridors. Serra pressed herself as flat as she could, almost thinking about using the medallion until the man's words came to her about using it. She wasn't about to be spotted as she heard the men scurry around in a hustle, shouts of death and then silence. Pants were echoing the walls around the corner as the men seemed to be resting for a moment, probably frantic from the sudden surprise.

All senses were ripped away from her for a few moments as she heard the pounding hearts of the two soldiers seem to explode with their every breath, imploding unknowingly to their doom. Her back rested against the wall as both men began shuffling about, their pants becoming worried.

"SHIT! D'Targnan is going to have our hide! Did you see where the bastard went?" She didn't have to see the soldier to tell he was a burly, filled with the stenches all the others carried with them. Her heart raced as she could hear the echoes of their feet. She prayed in her mind that they didn't come towards her direction.

"He had to have Moraghin's shadow to disappear that quickly!" The other was slightly younger but probably still as grizzly with a voice that matched sandpaper on gravel. Serra wanted to be taken away from this as if the sounds of the men were enough to make her fall back into that strange void where she had been unaware of herself, in a dungeon that was made of despair and fear.

A loud crash echoed down the corridor that caused the two men to begin running again, a shout coming as they ran past Serra's huddled form against the wall trying her best to remain unseen from their sight. As she watched them run away from her, a hand grasped hers, almost making a scream escape from her mouth, but thankfully the being put a hand on her lips to shush her.

It was a man all in black but he had a blue eye and milky white eye that reminded the little cleric of another person who had it as well but she couldn't place a name to the face. She knew him though and that was for certain. The man seemed to be kinder than the other man with the tawny skin, a smile could be seen on the ripples of his mask.

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at her uninjured form, though it was dirty looking and surely disgustingly smelly. He reassured her with his hand squeezing her fingers, the smile still upon those wrinkles on his mask, or at least, Serra liked to think that he did.

"This way!"

LLLLLLL

After several surprising fights, in which Serra had been hidden in due course whilst the fights had commenced, but as to all assassin battles, each battle ended almost quickly as it began, though the assassin didn't always end up unscathed.

Serra had kept her head down, watching the ground as she ran with the man, not willing herself to look down the corridors that could become splattered with the remnants of human remains, the ones of those who had opposed the rescuers or come into their warpath of silver and carnage.

It wasn't until a softness surrounded the sensations on her feet did Serra take notice of the cold air that surrounded her body with the refreshing scent of the outside world that she had not known for days. Steadying her gaze to the outside, she noted that the masked man was beside her with those two different eyes, holding onto his shoulder.

"We……We made it." Her voice seemed to question the idea that they had indeed made it outside the compound in which she was housed against her will. The man nodded to affirm her suspicions. It was not just an illusion that she was seeing, feeling, completely experiencing amongst her skin. Her eyes were so trained that she almost did not hear the man's hushed whisper against the shadowy night.

"Thank the Saint that we did……Ugh…" His hand clenched onto the wound that was bleeding on his shoulder. The girl's eyes went wide as she watched him nearly fall from the pain. The adrenaline rush was dying down for the masked being and he was hurt.

"What's wrong?" She hovered over him with concern evident in those impish eyes of hers, which he was sure had been only evident for moments as she was reuniting her soul with herself. He smiled, taking a pendent that he resembled the one he had slipped upon the neck of a certain stratagist, and placed the amulet upon her wrist.

Her eyes widened as the golden smooth stone rolled across the planes of her wrist, a delicate golden braided chain wrapped quickly and efficiently. Her lids began falling slowly, her body slumping as the spell took hold. Fighting a sleep spell that was attached to one's skin through a charmed item was not an easy thing to do and Serra had only been forced to face this type of spell use only once before. (She detested that humiliating memory and somewhat cherished it at the same time. She did make a pretty pink cat after all.)

"Sleep, Lady. You will be safe and so will I when we arrive in the arms of those that care." A deft hand and a shallow voice came out from the shadows holding the tattered figure of a dirtied angel. The man sighed, huffing as he shifted his hold on the light room to his back, grasping her to him with his will and his force before he began moving amongst the shadows once again with his passenger into the darkness to arrive to a favored destination.

LLLLL

A pounding came upon the door of Erk's suite in the early morning hours causing the sage to almost curse St. Elimine and St. Latona for such slights as the morning hours. Shifting on the bed he shared with his son, a secondary glance at the child to tell if the worn out kid was still asleep, which he was, before he decided to rise up and answer the knocks upon his door.

He absent mindedly slipped a tunic on his body, a hand moving in runic motions calling forth a spark of fire to his fingers, ready to become an inferno at its master's call. The sage master grumbled, his hands fumbling with the locks upon the door before he pulled it open to see Master assassin Legault de Fang standing in front holding a beaten woman religiously.

The man frowned and brushed past Erk, laying the immobile form of the woman he carried to the rug by the wash tub and the screen. His blue eye was marred with a worry Erk almost knew nothing about. The sage ran over, shutting the door with a silent force, extinguishing the sparks that had been at his fingers for a non magical touch.

"What happened! SERRA!" His heart stopped, wrenched open as he looked upon her form with more fervor in his eyes. He had let this come to her. Guilt tugged at him as the devil strung himself a guitar made of Erk's heartstrings. The purple-haired father reached out, grabbing his pseudo-wife to him, tears falling out of his eyes. After awhile, when Erk calmed down enough to help bathe and clothe the beautifully fractured vixen that had been given to his care with Legault, a silent helper throughout this all, the assassin finally spoke.

"She's not going to be the same for awhile. The perpetrators have been dealt with and D'Targnan has been dealt a heavy blow." His voice was low, a coarse throat going up and down on sandpaper. He was the darkness surrounding them both as they sat in the distinct chairs in the study of the magic man's suite. "Are you sure you don't love her?"

Erk blushed so much that he was sure that a fire spell could not be as effective in lighting the room as much as his visage was at the moment. He gasped, trying to gain breath as he thought of the possibility. There was no way that he was in love with her, was there?

He really had to wonder.

"I'm not……..I'm not sure what to think." Bowing his head down, curls of royal purple hair spilling upon his tunic without much ado, Erk tried to answer to the best of his ability.

"Destin said as much." Legault frowned. His shoulder still throbbing from pain he had received earlier in his mission. Standing up, Legault started swantering to the door, resting against a wall, grasping onto the wood for strength. His wife was waiting for the news.

Damn Erk.

That boy had no idea how lucky he really was. There were so many people out there that looked after the boy and yet he wanted to wander away into his misery, but then again there had only been two people who had ever gotten the sage out of his depressing and realistic thoughts and that had been the regal Louise and spunky Serra.

"You're a real lucky bastard Erk. You've screwed up once and yet she falls in your lap once more. This is your fate to decide." The blackheart growled in displeasure, a frown wrought upon his one-eyed gesture, turning to face the astonished boy-like master of magic. The man looked at none of him and yet, he was staring straight into Erk's body. "I almost wish I had your luck."

"What would you have done with it?" The mage rose up, brows furrowed before resting to sit back down. His eyes looking distant. Erk had always thought himself to be unlucky, stuck with people who liked to disrupt his work and everything else that bothered him or caused him to shut himself down. His heart pounded as he thought upon the woman that seemed to be the root of all of his problems at the moment and she was resting upon the bed he was going to be joining shortly.

Serra was such a sweet problem, a confusing one too, to deal with.

"I'd have saved the Fang. If I was lucky enough I would have been able to convince my brother to not be so blinded. I would have never been given that order." Erk felt his heart tighten considerably with Legault's glance over his shoulder, both eyes open, frightening the spellcaster with the one milky eye, seeming not to blink but to look through him. The man had a sad smile on his lips, before turning around and walking back towards the door that opened into the suite.

"She would have lived."

"Who?" Erk rose up, unaware of himself doing so and reached out to the saddened voice that was embodied by the midnight darkness, the shadow that was often murmured with the Hurricane's chosen name wandered back into its essence leaving him in the darkness to ponder about his predicament and his feelings.

The shadows seemed to have no answers.

LLLLLL

It was only the next morning as he was dressing his wife before a response came. Legault knew it was from D'Targnan, a maid bearing the news as usual. The master thief felt his mouth turn to a frown as his wife took no notice with her husband's help wrapping her dress's belt around her waist, his deft fingers tracing up her spine.

"Master Legault, you are wanted by Lord Hector. Forgive me for intruding, Lady Seras." Seras frowned her pouty lips before returning her sights to the mirror in front of her. Her husband's fingers tightening the belt before knotting the silk braid. His wife's hair fell from her braid, caressing his fingers with their fire-licked lockes.

"I'll be just fine, Legault! Go play with the lord." With a wave of his wife's scarred fingers, nicked from old daily training sessions with her knives and her bow and arrow. The blackheart frowned then nodded, walking away, his breath uncertain against her back, retreating along with figure.

"Yes, wife." His voice was lost to the sounds of the hallway and the clacking of heels, a wicked grin upon his lips.

Things were progressing into the next act.

LLLLL

Slightly frowning, leaning against the inn room that he had been told to go to by the maid, Legault stared at the demon controller, watching every movement with critical memories. The demon collector wore a doublet of such finery that Legault's bones, the ones that were noble as he had once been a heir to the kingdom of Etruia. (A long story that had the basic principles of Robin Hood wrought throughout them.)

This man flaunted his wealth and power as if he had a right to when the assassin in the meeting knew that he abused his powers as much as he used them.

"What is this about, D'Targnan?" Finally speaking through the obvious silence, the black heart bandit stopped leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and walked over, sitting in a chair that was not offered to him. D'Targnan watched his dark and gruesome eyes at this man's impertinence to disrespect him.

"Did you know that your wife is cheating on you?" The standing man knew it was of no consequence when he started grinning, turning around to cruelly measure Legault's reactions. The man only seemed to be wide-eyed and nothing else. It pissed him off a little but then again this man was considered to be deadly as well, but not as deadly as the fiery wife he kept. Legault followed his gestures as he threw his head upwards and laughed. "She is and I'm sure that she isn't carrying your child around, since you have been married for five years and she only became pregnant very recently. And since she hasn't shared your bed in the longest while, she must be getting satisfied by another man. After all, no woman waits to have children after marriage."

Legault remembered that conversation with his wife about having children. She wanted to wait and he had stood by and allowed it, realizing that he was not to make her do something she did not want to do. Glancing back to the standing man, the black heart felt his blood boil and his shackles rise in anger. He knew what was coming.

"Kill your wife."

Those were the words Legault dreaded the most.

LLLLLL

I'M DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER! WHOOOOOOOT! Okay next chapter will be more on Serra and more progression of plot details and all that nonsense.

I am currently in college and in English 102 so I can't update this as much as I would like. I will though keep up with typing stories and working as hard as I can. I'm soooo happy that I have finished this chapter as it took me forever to try to describe everything! I'm trying to get my mojo back as I had writer's block and I was playing Dirge and other games that I have just gotten……….

Anyway, please enjoy and READ AND REVIEW! LOVES TO ALL WHO DO!


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