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 Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:39 pm
╚ Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. ╗ Antonio Days passed since the battle in Altiplos. The loss of the citizens weighed heavily on the minds of the Archanean captains. They knew that their General would not be pleased to learn that the people of the city were taken by those who oppress them. The General would more than likely move to push onward, with greater force than ever, now. Because of this anticipation, Antonio had been working his men hard. They had to heal themselves, heal their allies, and make use of the goods the city had. As soon as enough soldiers were free, they were sent out with caravans of weapons and other useful things. The other squads would need them.
Messengers had been sent to Antonio, giving him word of how his fellow captains were progressing, but he had not seen another since the siege upon Altiplos. From what he knew, Lancelot had reached his target area, and the others were on their way to Restia. The lack of follow-up messengers was more than likely because the other squads were in battle. It meant that things were seemingly going as planned. Any time now, the General and the flying fool of a captain would show up to go over phase two. Antonio and Esmerelda were ready for them.
Within the city streets, the Frigid Tactician was taking some time to go about his own business. Some soldiers moved about, clearing rubble from the battle, but most were at the armories. The dead had been gathered and placed outside the city, and those who could be saved had already been healed. For the most part, it was a time for the soldiers to take it easy. Because of this, their captains could also have some leisure time. Antonio had chosen to use his time on his own, experimenting with magic. He sat alone, by a fountain area, with a blue tome sitting next to him. He raised his hands, and after some murmuring, the water in the fountain began to move. A small watery ribbon began to move about in the air. As Antonio moved his arm, the water would follow, in a flowing motion. As he did this, he began to write runes on the page, which was perhaps merely half full with writing. When he finished, he released the water, then chanted the spell again, uttering the sounds of the new runes as well. This time, a more condensed stream of water swirled in the air, obeying the sage’s commands for movement. A small grin came upon Antonio’s face. He very much liked developing magic. Even in the midst of a war, there were moments of peace. They were always well accepted.
[A hailstorm approaches] ╚ Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. ╗
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:42 pm
 •~•~•
Esmerelda could not deny how relieved she was that they had finally gotten this lull between battles. Their men had fought long and hard, and even if they'd lost the citizens to the enemy soldiers (How could we have missed that? How could we be so stupid?), they had gained a great victory. Even if they had no protection for the innocent people of the city, their troops were being healed quite well, and she was sure General Caesar would be quite proud. He usually was, at least.
Her mind drifted towards Neil, footsteps quiet on the ground. She hadn't left the clinic long ago to check on him, and it was only with a smile on his face that she saw him. Esmerelda had been so sure that his wounds were dire, and the cleric had actually informed her that he would have been in much worse condition had he not been treated so soon--he would have been at risk of dying from the bloodloss, she clarified--but Neil would be fully recovered, swift as Katya's gallop. It alleviated the pressure of worry from Esmerelda's heart, and she smiled just slightly. Neil was a close friend as well as a subordinate; his positive condition warmed her. Ophelia was in great shape as well; she had been injured, but her own herbal concoctions had brought her right back to the peak of health, and she was actually one of the main healers for some time, aiding Antonio's men with their magic and staves. Esmerelda needed to check in on her now, she only knew that Ophelia had gone to help elsewhere and wasn't in the clinic at the time.
I can do that in a little bit. A few minutes to sit and relax would be nice, she thought with a small sigh. She had replaced her hachimaki, and the familiar fabric against her forehead was also a reassurance. It was so often a part of her uniform that she felt uncomfortable without it. Now as she strolled down the cobbled streets, watching recovered men rest or take some time to breathe in the winter air while working idly with their weapons, recovering their sharpness, Esmerelda couldn't help but smile. Days off were excellent for morale.
The Sniper strolled around the corner, approaching the town square, and paused. Familiar black hair, familiar blue cloak... without anyone else around. The tanned woman sighed, adjusted her gloves slightly, and strolled over to him, letting her footsteps sound just slightly, so as to not startle him. "Why are you over here on your own?" she questioned, one hand moving to her hip. Her eyebrows arched up, mismatched eyes focused steadily on the Sage.
•~•~•  My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:43 pm
╚ Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. ╗ Antonio "Yes, good…” Antonio whispered to himself. The way the spell was working was exactly what he had wanted. He was so focused on what he was doing that he jumped and flung around, from being startled. With the spell still in motion, the water followed the arm’s movement, then flicked out near Esmerelda and came back, like a whip. When Antonio saw that it was her, he calmly released the spell, and the water dropped onto the ground that was now significantly less covered by snow. “Apologies…”
Antonio turned back and closed the tome, then put it away, aside his belt. He could not help but be disappointed that he was disturbed. The fact that it was his sister made him feel even more uncomfortable, at that moment. He had not spoken a word to her since the battle had ended, aside from a few brief passing utterances, as needed. In truth, he was sort of avoiding her. But now that she had come to him while he was not busy, he would have to converse. “..I was just… working with some underdeveloped spells. I have been putting the work off, as of late, because of the current campaign. I was hoping to perfect this one, before the General arrived.” Antonio glanced at his sister, then out again toward the city. “Was there… something you wanted…?”
[A hailstorm approaches] ╚ Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. ╗
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:44 pm
•~•~•
Esmerelda worked to try to keep the surprise off of her appearance, but she blinked repeatedly as the line of water came very close to lashing her across the nose. She flicked a few droplets of water off of her face, taking in a small breath to steady her heightened heartbeat. "No need. No one's hurt."
She could see the discomfort on his expression; she had noticed there was a certain edginess around him lately that she didn't usually detect. He was a loner, yes. That much was completely normal. But he seemed even more antisocial than usual, if that was even possible for the Hailstorm. Esmerelda reached up with her free hand and brushed her bangs away from her eyes, keeping her gaze directed on the mage. "Underdeveloped spell? Do you mean that... well, the water spell you almost lashed on me?" she questioned, and though her face stayed stern, her eyes lit up for just a moment, betraying the laugh she was trying not to release.
Antonio, embarrassed, at least by Esmerelda's judgment. It was a rare sight.
"There was nothing in particular, no. I was simply walking around. Fresh air, see if anything's amiss, routine. But now I'm curious about this spell of yours." Esmerelda seated herself lightly on the edge of the fountain so that the mist of the spraying water could brush against her, but not so close that she would become noticeably wet. "Care to explain it to me? Or demonstrate again where I'm not at risk of injury?" she asked, now letting a small smile appear on her face.
•~•~• My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:46 pm
╚ Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. ╗ Antonio She wished to know about his work? Clearly, she was fishing for him to speak with her. However, since she did ask, Antonio would gladly reply. It was better than sitting there awkwardly, doing nothing, after all. That and he really did like to explain his studies aloud.
“…Very well” He began. “Though, you may not understand everything I say.” Antonio revealed the tome he had to his sister, allowing her to look upon it. “This is a tome I have been working on. I am attempting to use the element of water, to make a successful offensive attack.” The boy opened his spellbook and pointed to a marking. “This is a basic water rune. Without it, the spell has no meaning.” He began to run his finger along the line. “The further into the spell you go, the more different the runes become. Runes contain both power and a pronunciation. If it is written or transcribed incorrectly, the spell will not work. It is said that in olden days, what we now use as incantations was once a language. However, even very powerful sages do not have a full understanding of this elder-speak. I have not met one who could speak it clearly, as a main language. Perhaps one day…”
Antonio pulled out another tome, and opened it. “In other tomes, you will see other runes. Many tomes contain the same runes, but it is the order in which they are written that set them apart. For instance, the incantation for a fire spell and an elfire spell only differ because the elfire incantation is longer, and requires more power. The elfire may be more damaging, but cannot be used as much as just a fire spell. Because of this, the tome is augmented to contain fewer pages in the elfire. For a magician to use up his inner magic is suicide.” Antonio shut his eyes for a brief moment. “It would require a transfer of power to save the person- if said person is gotten to in time. Even then, there could be complications. The body would need to be accepting, and the one transferring would need to be sufficiently skilled.”
Once the boy finished what he was saying, he opened his eyes, and blinked. “Ah… I was beginning to ramble. I apologize.” Antonio looked down to the tome he first had, and opened it to the page that he was working on, before. He let out a slight sigh, while looking upon it. “Alas, I am still confronted by issues, with this spell. I am still working out the details on how to get the proper amount of water, which can extend and lash, then come back. Essentially, it would be a water whip.” Antonio shook his head once. “My goal included finding a practical use for the water element. But there is a clear reason why it is not used in combat spells. You see, with water, a ready supply must be available. To be effective with just water, a great amount would be needed, which is not the case in most instances of battle. It is true that there is water in the air, but using that takes great skill from the caster. Thus, water is more commonly used for combat spells in combination with a high concentration of wind. The result… produces ice. Earth magic is similar to water, in certain regards. Even within the realm of magic, there remain some set physical limitations and standards.” Antonio paused and looked up at his sister. “Did that satisfy your interest?”
[A hailstorm approaches] ╚ Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. ╗
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:47 pm
•~•~•
Ah, magic. She could recall countless evenings of Antonio buried in his books, staring at the funny shapes and symbols, somehow able to decipher some sort of hidden meaning in them. All Esmerelda got by staring at them like he did was a headache from staring too intently at the print in the dim aura of candlelight. She had asked Beatrix before to explain how her spells worked in one of her rare moments of curiosity; usually, magic didn't interest her. How to fire an arrow while taking the wind into account, how to track or hunt, how to string a bow properly, those were things that interested her. Even martial arts, because for her to be a truly strong General, she had to learn how to overcome her weaknesses, and bowmanship lead to an unarguable weakness in close combat.
Beatrix's explanations always tended to turn into ramblings, punctuated by flittering of her attention to other subjects and wandering back and language that ended up creating more questions than answers. Antonio, however, had a very scientific view of how to approach this mystical force, and in that regard he was a much better teacher than the busty Valkyrie.
The idea of his confusing symbols and words being a full language, something people used to speak in on a regular basis, utterly bewildered Esmerelda, and as such was relieved when the subject shifted enough for her to gain a better grasp on things. By the end, Antonio trying to explain how certain types of magic were less practical than others, Esmerelda's head was swimming, but she smiled at him anyway. He had tried, which was more than enough.
"I suppose so," she responded. One hand moved to her chin, elbow propped on her knee, as she stared intently at his spellbook. "But explain why exactly earth spells are so similar to water spells. They're entirely different elements, right? And dirt, stones, the ground is everywhere, how could it be so impractical?" She looked for a moment at the runes again, eyes alighting in a rather puzzling rune shape. "What does that one mean?" she asked, not realizing how she had swerved away from her question. She pointed to the rune she had mentioned. "That one."
•~•~• My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:48 pm
╚ Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. ╗ Antonio Antonio raised an eyebrow subtly, seeing that his sister was still curious. He was sure that his rant would have bored her into wanting to leave. And despite wanting to avoid her, driving her away would have been unacceptable. Maybe he could talk to her for real, once he finished his magic lesson. “How? Well, like water, earth magic also needs a ready supply. This is generally not an issue though, as earth is all around us. The only places where the magic may not be able to be used would be out at sea, or in the desert, where the earth is harder to manipulate and control.” Antonio glanced out at where Bale was supposed to be located. “My second in command uses earth magic. He possesses a stubborn and forceful nature that makes him very compatible with it.” Antonio looked forward again, rolling his eyes as they returned. “What I mean is that earth magic requires the most power of any element. The most common use of it is in siege magic for the ‘Meteor’ spell, or in a very high leveled spell called ‘Balganone’, which is essentially a combination of the earth and fire elements. Earth magic on its own is not typically used in combat, due to its nature of being heavy and slow. However, I have seen it used very well, in the past. I have attempted to create new spells to utilize it in a practical manner for combat, but progress is a bit… hindered, at the moment.”
Once finished answering the first question, Antonio looked down at the page that his sister pointed to. “That is a rune placed within all anima magic spells, actually. It means air, or wind. But it is not used to make spells a combination of elements. You see, in order to have fire or thunder, you need air. One cannot perform the thunder spell underground, or rather it will not reach down there, and fire will not ignite in a place where air is too thin. For water and earth, the rune is used to employ wind to help lift and move the elements around. The rune is not used to empower an actual wind attack. Ironically, wind is harder to use, as an attack. It is one thing to implement it into spells, but another to condense it into damaging blasts. Because of this, I constantly train my men to use wind magic, to strengthen their foundations.”
The boy looked over at his sister when he finished, then quickly turned away. He was having a nice conversation, but saw that he could not hide behind it forever. It would eventually end, so he may as well move on. However, he found it hard to look back. He could only look down or out at the city. “…I appreciate it, but… you don’t have to be so nice.” His head lowered, and hid an expression that was slowly becoming one of sorrow. “You have a completely justifiable reason to hate me.”
[A hailstorm approaches] ╚ Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. ╗
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:50 pm
•~•~•
Esmerelda simply smiled at Antonio, noticing his bewildered expression. She didn't bring it up, simply folded her arms loosely in her lap and nodded every so often as he went back to explaining his magical theory. It made sense, she tried to suppose; stones didn't really imply quickness, though it did imply strength, so why wouldn't it be a slow, powerful breed of spell? She wondered why the desert would be so bad for earth magic--there was sand everywhere, and didn't sand count as earth?--but she didn't press that subject. She wasn't entirely sure if she'd understand his reasoning, anyway.
The Sniper let out a long, low whistle, smiling warmly. "Impressive. I always knew you were smart, but I never thought you'd be working so hard at making your own spells. It makes me wonder how many of the spells you use regularly are your own creation. Do you have them all compiled in their own book or are they spread apart? I bet you could teach your men if you got a good enough grasp on some of them, that could be very useful."
He hadn't seemed to hear her, though, and when he turned away from her, she could see the rigidity of his spine start to lessen, casting her smile down into a frown. “…I appreciate it, but… you don’t have to be so nice.”
The Sniper blinked, confused. "Antonio...? I don't understand. Why would you ever think that?"
“You have a completely justifiable reason to hate me.”
She rose to her feet. "All right. Look, I don't hate you. I could never hate you. Could you just tell me what's wrong and why you're so concerned? I don't remember the last time I've seen you like this, it... worries... oh..."
She blinked once, recalling the battle. They had seen each other briefly, he had sent her on her way. Later she had been expecting some sort of aid from his men and... it hadn't come, had it? Neil had been injured, and... maybe it could have been avoided if Antonio's mages had come to the rescue as well. Esmerelda shook her head firmly, but her voice wobbled slightly as she protested, "Antonio, you were only following your plan. Things might have gone worse if you'd diverted, and... and everything's all right. It's perfectly fine. Really."
•~•~• My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:51 pm
╚ Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. ╗ Antonio "No, sister... Please, the validity behind your speech is clearly lacking. I know you must bode ill feelings toward me. And that is okay.” Antonio sighed and shook his head. “No… no, it’s not okay. But it is understandable.” The boy looked up to his sister, fighting his desire to just ignore all of this and just go back to what he was doing before. “I hear it often. The things my men say… about me. I shrug them off, telling myself that it isn’t important, that they just don’t get that what I do is tactically sound and will bring about victory. The names they give to me: The Frigid Tactician, The Hailstorm… they were given, based upon how people see me. They see me as a vicious and unrelenting storm of cold, unforgivable fury!” Antonio closed his eyes, unable to continue looking at his sister. “…And I try to tell myself that it means nothing, and that it doesn’t bother me. But I’m… just lying to myself, in the end. Because it does bother me. Every time I hear something about me like that, a small, piercing pain is created in my chest. …And I just ignore it until it eventually goes away, because I…” He let out a few shaky breaths. “I’m afraid of showing people that I do feel, that I am vulnerable… that really, I’m just a little kid, crying on the inside.”
Antonio rose to his feet and took a step forward, looking out toward the city again. “I’ve always prided myself on sound logic, and my ability to create magnificent strategies and tactics. I always remained focus, not allowing anything to go wrong. I made sure my men did their duty. …But never once did I take them into consideration, in my plans. I simply gave them orders. I ordered them to go out and win, no matter how dangerous things became. But during this last battle… I saw how my plans could possibly lead to deaths simply because of inflexibility. It was arrogant. …And this time, it could have been you who died.”
The boy paused, and swallowed a lump that was forming in his throat, as his body shook ever so slightly. He turned to see his sister standing behind him. “I know now that ignoring the wellbeing of your soldiers is one of the most foolish things that one can do. I think I always knew, really, but… I just chose to be focused on overall goals, instead. But it’s not just about planning. The morale of one’s troops could possibly be by far the most important thing in any battle. And I refuse to ignore it any longer! My troops should trust in me to make sure that they are well off, and I cannot let them down anymore.” He took a step forward, but hid his face. “All it took for me to come to my senses was for you to be in terrible danger…”
Antonio stood in front of his sister, head down, and said nothing for a moment. All the sound that came out was a stifled sniff. “I’m sorry….” He leaned forward, his head resting against his sister. “I’m so sorry….”
[A hailstorm approaches] ╚ Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. ╗
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 6:07 pm
•~•~•
Esmerelda started to shake her head, desperate to comfort her younger brother. "No, you have it all wrong, I..." she started, but trailed off as he started back up. He was determined, it seemed, to get out whatever it was he needed to say, and Esmerelda fell silent to let him speak. It wasn't often that he opened up to anyone, not even her, but as he continued on, she could feel her shoulders shaking a little.
"The names they give to me: The Frigid Tactician, The Hailstorm… they were given, based upon how people see me. They see me as a vicious and unrelenting storm of cold, unforgivable fury!"
There was real pain in his voice, such pain that it startled Esmerelda, completely unable to keep it off of her expression. He had never told her about any of this before. Why didn't you talk to me before, brother? Why didn't you tell me anything? Are you that determined to look strong that you can't... you can't even show weakness to your big sister...?
Antonio still wasn't looking at her, and that above everything else worried her. "I’ve always prided myself on sound logic, and my ability to create magnificent strategies and tactics. I always remained focus, not allowing anything to go wrong. I made sure my men did their duty. …But never once did I take them into consideration, in my plans. I simply gave them orders. I ordered them to go out and win, no matter how dangerous things became. But during this last battle… I saw how my plans could possibly lead to deaths simply because of inflexibility. It was arrogant. …And this time, it could have been you who died." Esmerelda wanted to shake her head, but she knew it was true. She had fought that green-clad boy early on, and he had been a real force to be reckoned with; the arrival of her men helped her escape with only that injury to her arm. Then later it was the commander of the opposing army, and had it not been for Neil, the surprise attack on her could have very well wiped her out when her guard was down, and... there were none of Antonio's Sages to use their own spell to counteract it and keep her safe. She had been on her own, as usual.
He was shaking. That alone made Esmerelda tremble a little more, her black eye and white eye widening a little in concern. It had been years since she had ever seen him look this... young. Vulnerable.
Scared.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
For once, Esmerelda didn't hesitate. Her arms went around the smaller boy's thin frame, and she hugged him tightly against her. One hand rubbed his back for a moment, the other resting gently on the back of his head, before pulling him just a little more securely against her. She let him rest his head against her shoulder, her face inclining against his soft black hair. Any other time, Esmerelda might have noticed that Antonio took better care of his hair than she did, but that wasn't important now.
"I just wish you'd talked to me sooner," she whispered, already crying. She let her tears roll into his hair and absorb away. "Antonio, I just... I care about you, little brother, and I want to help, but if you don't tell me anything, I can't... I can't do anything." Esmerelda didn't move to loosen her grip on her brother just yet, trying to hold onto the moment as long as she could. Antonio hadn't let her hug him since he was a little boy, growing to the point where he seemed to abhor physical contact with anyone that wasn't herself or maybe a pat on the shoulder from the General.
She didn't say anything else; apologizing was ready on her tongue, but she knew she didn't really have a reason to apologize. She squeezed him gently in her hug. "You know, no matter what, that I love you, little brother. You know that, right...?"
•~•~• My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 8:37 pm
╚ Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. ╗ Antonio Antonio failed to prevent some more muffled sniffs from escaping, as his sister held him. "I'm sorry..." He let out, in a shaky voice. He had not emptied out like this in a long time. He always did everything himself, and held everything in. But even the most closed up of people have a breaking point. "...Yes." Antonio raised his head and took a step back, now with a firm grasp on his actions. Small moist droplets were left behind on his sister's clothing. "Thank you." A smiled managed to latch itself on his face.
"Commander! Commander Antonio!" rang out a sudden voice, from behind Esmerelda! At hearing the voice, Antonio quickly wiped his eyes and and swallowed once more, before looking to see who was calling him. He quickly realized that it was Bale. "Commander!"
The boy looked at his subordinate only as much as he had to, so as not to show that he was actually crying. "What is it, Bale? Has the General arrived?"
Bale glanced over at Esmerelda briefly, unsure if he had interrupted something or not, then back to Antonio. "No, sir. Not yet. But Commander Lancelot has... er, mostly..." Bale could see an eyebrow start to raise on Antonio's face, so he continued. "He has arrived himself, but his army did not accompany. Only about five have returned. Also... upon his return, he was found to be unconscious and seriously injured. The men are requesting you to help him. That is... if you're not busy. I can go and see if there are other healers available..."
The tactician quickly grew a slight concern for his fellow commander. To return in such a way suggested that he was attacked and that he lost. And with so little of his men returning, it must mean that all the rest were defeated. At least, that seemed most probable. Yet at the same time, it was hard to believe. Lancelot's army was formidable, and for it to be defeated meant that there was something unaccounted for, in the plan. Thinking back to the battle in altiplos, Antonio recollected the sudden arrival of unknown troops, along with Estarcians. It was possible that there were more of these unidentified fighting armies than the one they faced in Altiplos- and Lancelot had been caught off guard. "Thank you, Bale. I will see to him, myself. We cannot take healers away from their current patients. You were right to come for me." He turned to his sister and grinned slightly. "..I could use some assistance, if you are willing. He is an oaf, but a comrade, nonetheless." He began to walk off, then turned to Bale once more. "Nice work, Bale. Really. I'm glad I can depend on you." With that, Antonio hurried off.
"Uh..." was all that Bale could say, at first. He blinked several times, his confusion unable to be hidden. "...Com...mander...?" He looked over at Esmerelda, then back at his departing commander. He couldn't help but speak aloud to himself. "...Did I get the wrong person?"
-----
Back at Town Hall, Lancelot was taken upstairs, since there was no room in the nearby clinic. He was placed on the former city leader's bed, and given as much medical treatment as was available for until Antonio arrived. And within a few minutes of Bale's message, the sage in fact did come. After a quick inspection of where the flying fool was injured, Antonio took out a staff, and began to get to work. The staff remained held over the fallen commander's body for some time, healing the wounds on both the outside and inside, with a rejuvenating glow. Eventually, the boy could see that his comrade was beginning to wake up. Unfortunately for him, the healing was not done, so the man would be in for some pain when he fully came to.
The eyes naturally started to open, and only Lancelot would know where he thought he was. But as the senses began to start working, one solitary voice rang out. "...You're an idiot." Welcome back, Sir Lancelot.
[A hailstorm approaches] ╚ Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. ╗
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Posted: Wed Apr 07, 2010 4:17 pm
•~•~•
Esmerelda smiled a little, smoothing Antonio's hair away from his face as he stepped away from her. It was enough for her to have had this moment, at least for now. She couldn't help but be concerned for him, she was his older sister. As long as she kept an eye on him, he would be all right. Esmerelda would make sure of it. "You're welcome," she murmured back, her own teary smile widening. She didn't move to wipe the wetness away from her shoulder.
The Sniper snapped her gaze up abruptly as one of Antonio's most trusted men approached them, moving rather quickly. She straightened her posture a little, folding her arms under her chest as she observed him quietly. Her expression faltered at the mention of Lancelot. He had arrived... mostly?
"He has arrived himself, but his army did not accompany. Only about five have returned. Also... upon his return, he was found to be unconscious and seriously injured. The men are requesting you to help him. That is... if you're not busy. I can go and see if there are other healers available..."
Esmerelda paled just a little. I knew he was reckless, I knew he was an idiot, but... but only five of his men? Seriously injured? Unconscious? She worked very hard to keep the concern off of her face; as far as the rest of the army was concerned, all they needed to see was that she thought the man was a stuck-up p***k who needed to take his four-leaf clovers and horseshoes and bury them somewhere deep underground where he wouldn't find them again.
She didn't say anything, simply letting Antonio interact with Bale. As he turned to her, though, she let a trace of the surprise appear on her features. "...A very big oaf, a very suicidal oaf, but I'll help however I can." With that, she rushed after her brother, hachimaki rippling and curling with the wind.
Esmerelda was lost for a time, unsure of how exactly she was supposed to help the injured Lancelot. She didn't have the ability to magically heal wounds with staves like her younger brother, leaving her to using Vulneraries and Elixirs, or otherwise doing what she could to expedite the healing process. She was still there, though, unrolling clean bandages to keep his more serious wounds closed while they were healing, when he began to stir.
She let Antonio finish his simple statement before chiming in, "I agree." With that, she fell silent as well. Might as well let him get a word in edgewise, if he even had the strength to speak.
•~•~• My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Tue Apr 13, 2010 6:23 pm
LANCELOT His eyes were shut, and his mind so far gone that he was unaware that he had even gone unconscious- all he knew was that something had hurt, then had suddenly faded into the background. Like a candle starved of oxygen, the pain hadn't snuffed out immediately- it slowly but surely began to dwindle, its radiating heat going dull as the seconds ticked past before it seemed to extinguish itself. The Dragon Lord felt light, weightless, his mind as free as his body in the sky when he flew- and yet there was a fuzziness in his vision and in every part of his body that it just felt... off. Despite this, though, he couldn't bring himself to question it.
Freedom felt marvelous. Despite all of the warnings he had even given his troops, he couldn't help but let himself drift away in the sense comforting of oblivion. Despite the fact that he knew deep in his heart that such flights were often a one-way flight to the halls of the hallowed war gods, logic didn't register in a mind that was starved of blood, oxygen, and sense. There was simply that juvenile desire to wallow in this peace, and fly through it, feeling the warmth run through him as it never had before.
The feeling of cold, biting gales of wind on his corporeal face didn't register in skin that had grown pale and chalky from blood loss. The jarring sensation of hastily flapping wings didn't rouse him from his almost comatose state, and even the feeling of Mordred's feet dropping onto the ground didn't disturb him. Indeed, perhaps what caused the soldier's distress was the unnerving smile that had been on his face as Bale pulled him down from the saddle. The fierceness of the warrior had all but vanished, replaced with a smile that was so pure, so juvenile, so terribly out of place...
It was enough to give anyone goosebumps.
---
"Now hear me, boy. Hear me well. The battlefield is not a place for the faint of heart, nor for those who fortune spites. Do you understand, Lancelot?"
He remembered looking up, then- just a young lad, no more than ten- to see the silhouette of a man who seemed massive, at the time. The man's eyes were stern, but warm; the boy had been initially intimidated, but suddenly stood his ground. Taking a deep breath and splaying his legs wide and putting his hands on his hips, the young Lancelot looked up at his tutor with a voice that threatened to crack from nervousness.
"I'm ready! I'll just... make sure to stay lucky, that's all!"
His tutor had paused, then.
Suddenly, his roaring laughter seemed to shake the boy to the bone. Had he said something wrong...? No, the knight never laughed at an incorrect answer. Sure enough, a large egg was dropped into the lad's hands, and a heavy gauntlet-covered palm patted him on the head, ruffling his silver hair.
"That's a boy. Keep Lady Luck on your side, and you'll be one hell of a flier, kid..."
--
The feeling of mending flesh was always an interesting one. Had they been in a world without magic, the feeling of cells regrowing before joining back together would take hours, weeks; a feeling so slow, no one would realize it, save for a slight itching and burning as cells raced to multiply in order to meet the need for new tissues. However, with the sage's spells, the irritation and itching took place tenfold within the patient's body...
Irritation enough to wake the most stubborn of dreamers.
From the realm of dreams, Lancelot felt as if he suddenly started to fall, the grassy field suddenly imploding beneath his feet. With a scream (one that blessedly didn't translate into a physical cry), the boy held Mordred's egg tight to his chest, feeling himself fall through what was a seemingly endless darkness. His gut felt as if it was turning inside out, the top of the egg ground into his shoulder, and just as he felt he was about to fall--
The pain hit. Hard. Blinking his eyes wearily open, the sudden sensory overload forced him to wince as the pain of his oversensitive eyes- not to mention the agony of his mending wounds and his smarting pride- hit him all at once.
Welcome back to reality, Lancelot. Pain's missed you.
"...I take it... it didn't go so well."
His memories hadn't quite caught up to him, yet- all he knew was that SOMETHING had happened, to make both Esmeralda and Antonio stand over him in the hospital wing.۞ Luck be a Lady ۞
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Posted: Tue Apr 13, 2010 8:17 pm
•~•~•
Esmerelda gently brushed her hair away from her face and watched as Lancelot's eyes finally opened. She didn't bother trying to keep her posture impassive in front of him; the Sniper let the wave of relief wash visibly over her, though she did manage to keep herself from doing anything else embarrassing.
"...I take it... it didn't go so well."
Esmerelda shook her head slowly. "...Lancelot, all I know is that you came here accompanied by only five of your men, with you probably ten minutes from certain inability to recover if Antonio and the others hadn't gotten to you as quickly as they did."
The Sniper let out a shaky little breath and ran a hand through her bands. Her shoulders were shaking, something she was trying desperately to hide, and it was a battle she was losing. She shook her head again, tilting her head down and away so he wouldn't be able to see her face--if he even had enough of his wits about him for his vision to be cleared, that is. How many times have I told you to be careful in battle? You risked the lives of your men again and it bit you in the a**, didn't it? I've warned you about this so many times and you have never listened to me, you smartass little p***k and now look at what's happened, you're badly hurt and you've barely got enough men to call your squad a mercenary band, much less a necessary portion of the General's army! Do you understand how badly you worried us? How badly you worried me? What even happened out there to make this happen? What about Mordred, is your wyvern even all right, or did she get injured, too?
She could hear everything perfectly in her head, articulated perfectly for her to simply voice, but as she opened her mouth, all that came out was a little raw sound. Esmerelda shook her head again and looked away from him. Being lost for words was dangerous when one spent time with Lancelot, but with him injured and barely coherent on the bed, it was a moot point, something that just made her hold back a violent tremor.
"What were you thinking...?" she managed. Her voice was pained, like a lute string pulled taut and vibrating dangerously.
•~•~• My answer is...
→I will always be here.←
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Posted: Mon Apr 26, 2010 2:42 pm
╚ Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. ╗ Antonio Antonio glanced to his sister, after her last utterance. The question she asked was very plain and very easy to reply to. "He wasn't thinking." Antonio responded, bluntly. The light come forth from the staff dimmed until it was no longer emitting its cleansing glow.
The boy sat back and put the staff away, then shut his eyes. "...Five." He eventually started. "Five of your men returned. Do you realize how incompetent you are?! Did you ever think about the well-being of your troops?! No, of course you didn't, you never do! You just soared blindly into battle, and because of that, near your entire army was... was-!!" Antonio stopped, finding an unfamiliar emotional pain in his chest. He looked up at his sister and saw that he was just making her appear more solemn. Antonio was perfectly justified in what he said, and it was clear that something had to be said to Lancelot. However, he was seeming to find himself at a lack for what to say. His sister was always one to speak out against the fool's actions, and even she could hardly say anything. Antonio decided that perhaps they were not the proper ones to lecture him anyhow, as he thought about it. The General was coming. He could deal with Lancelot when he arrived.
Before Antonio could say anymore, they were suddenly interrupted by Bale. "Captain" the sage began, addressing Antonio. "General Caesar has arrived."
"Thank you, Bale." The captain responded, with a contented grin. "Lead him to the conference room. We will conduct our meeting there." The subordinate complied to the order and promptly left the room. He could feel the tension and didn't want to stay for very long anyway.
When the door shut, Antonio got to his feet and sighed. "Very well, let us be off. The Fire Emblem is in a temple somewhere in this country and we are running out of places where it might be. If we can just get that, then we would be able to go back home. The sooner we come up with our second phase, the sooner we can go out and finish this campaign." Antonio walked over to the door and put his hand on the knob. "As for you, Lancelot, I recommend you stay here. Not only do you need to remain still for at least a day even with the magic healing, but a meeting of strategy is clearly no place for you!" He paused for a moment and sighed once more. "I do not know what to say to you. You are stabbing yourself to death with the rapier of your own wit." He opened the door, and glanced to his sister. "Come, Esmerelda. The General awaits." Without a second look back to the wyvern commander, the boy left and was on his way to the conference room.
[A hailstorm approaches] ╚ Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. ╗
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