Chapter 9 - Fire and Ice

Chapter 9
Fire and Ice

Sierra, Marth, and Roy were running up the mountain summit. The masses of trees were starting to cease, and the grass changed from rich, dark green to a somewhat dull chartreuse. Of course, Roy was bored out of his mind, Sierra was trying to amaze the group out of boredom and fatigue with fireworks, and Marth was navigating. “Okay….so we turn LEFT at the tree with the strange X carved on it, then we turn RIGHT at the entrance to Mountain-Town village? I’M SO CONFUSED!!!!!” Marth exclaimed. Roy couldn’t care less; he would have fallen asleep at the next village if Sierra hadn’t been keeping him entertained.

When they finally got to a clearing on the summit’s edge, the trio decided to rest. Roy collapsed on the grass. “Why were we RUNNING???” Roy panted. “Because we only have four weeks to get to Jarus! My home!” Sierra said. Marth was taking a break from navigating, and called a bird to his hand. “Why won’t you two relax? Not only are we close to the end of our journey, we are close to saving the world! Besides…there’s no enemy here to look out for….” Suddenly, a figure came from the distance. “If there’s no one here,” Sierra said, “who’s that???”

The shadowy figure actually turned out to be a 14-year-old royal, with blond hair and reddish eyes. His armor was black with red trim, as was his long-sleeved tunic. He carried around a lance which was attached to a sheath on his back by small silver chains. Instead of a cape, he had a long, black scarf tied around his neck. His outfit looked, to an extent, similar to Roy’s.

Sierra was the first to say something. “Who are you, and why are you here?” But the boy was silent, unsheathed his lance, and set to strike Sierra. However, Roy was faster, thanks to a new speed charm Sierra taught him. They clashed sword with spear, and the blonde backed slowly away a couple of paces. “Roy? Lord of Pharae?” the boy said. “Wait…..it can’t be….one of my kin?” Roy breathed, sheathed his sword, and stared at him. “Well, you can’t be my brother, because then you’d look just like me…” he reasoned. The blonde royal couldn’t take it anymore. “I am Marcus, duke of Pharae, YOUR COUSIN!!!!” he cried.

Roy stepped back. Sierra, confused, whispered in Roy’s ear, “Wait a second. I thought your whole family consisted of redheads…..who dressed almost alike…..” Roy chuckled silently and whispered back, “I have a huge family, and I just now remembered: Marcus is the duke of my home. He’s kinda….um….detached….from the rest of the family.”

Marcus sheathed his lance, and said, “Who are these people you travel with, Roy?” To his cousin’s surprise, Roy was happy-go-luckier than ever. “This is Sierra, my best friend. She’s a princess/magician/knight of Jarus. This is Marth, the blue-haired prince of the kingdom Altea.” The blonde Pharaean walked up to Sierra. “You Jarusians make me sick….I should’ve known you were one.” Roy was shocked that his cousin would be so discourteous. “MARCUS!!!” he cried, “WHY? Why did you disgrace yourself in front of a PRINCESS? I am so ashamed of one from my kin.” Marcus only chuckled. “You are just like my uncle. Kind and courteous to all, even Jarusians. It makes me wonder how you managed to survive all of Ariella’s blows. You and your side of the family were one of the reasons why my father and I fled Pharae.” Roy was not only angry, but confused. “Why the Jarusians? Why not the Lyrians? Or the Doluans?” Marcus was silent. And another thing: how did Marcus know about Ariella? And did he say he FLED Pharae? Marth decided to end this welcome greeting by a comment: “Marcus, duke of Pharae, I would like to ask you to accompany us on our journey to dethrone Ariella. Please?” Marcus thought on it, and came to a conclusion. “I would like to accompany you, only if the Jarusian doesn’t come.” Sierra couldn’t take any more thrashing on her self-esteem. “In case you’re wondering, my name is Sierra. Call me Sierra. Also, I’m the reason this journey began, so if you don’t like me on this quest, you may as well leave.” Marcus stepped back, surprised. “Tough, huh? Okay, I’ll go.”

They continued walking up the mountain, until a chariot whizzed by and splashed mud all over Marcus’s tunic. “ROY!!! I must have another tunic! Get me another tunic…now!” Roy laughed. “Sorry, cousin…..no servants on this bandwagon. We’ll wash it once we get to the next rest stop. Besides,” Roy turned to face him as he walked up the hill, “I thought our family was the most perseverant thing besides Pharae itself?” Marcus ignored Roy, and was still fuming over his stained clothes. “Why not now? Why can’t you wash this thing now and give me a fresh one?” “Tell you what. I’ll make a garment out of magic, if you’ll be quiet and say no more about your mud-soaked clothes.” Marth said, “And I have another question: Is it cold around here to you? I’m freezing!” The three teenage royals shook their heads. Once they got to the next clearing, Marth sat down and started to wave his hands over a piece of black fabric. It began to glow, shift positions, and billow in the wind. After about ten minutes, a fresh tunic was made for Marcus. “Thank you, Prince Marth! I am forever your ally!” Marcus said, running away somewhere to change. Roy, who was very kind when it came to his friends, came to Sierra and said, "Sierra, I'm sorry about Marcus and what he did." “It’s fine, Roy…I'll be okay,” Sierra said. “No, I feel I must help you, after what Marcus said earlier. Since he said something about my father, and pretty much my whole side of the family, I don’t know if I can trust my cousin,” Roy whispered so Marcus wouldn’t hear. But, before Roy could finish, Marcus walked to the group, pulled out a cold fish from his sack, and tried to start a fire with sticks. “Marcus! Marth fixed us fish yesterday! We’re eating chicken tonight. And besides….that’s NOT how you start a fire.” Roy took off his glove, pointed at the stack of logs, and said, “PYRRUS!” and the logs caught fire. Marcus was astonished. “Magic? That’s the LAST thing I would do. You learned from the Jarusian?” he said. Sierra didn’t say anything. Marth was still cold, even in front of the fire. “So,” Marcus said, “who’s cooking this delightful feast of chicken?” Sierra, Marth, and Roy pointed at each other. Immediately Marcus left them. “That was odd…” Sierra said.

Suddenly, Marth was shivering more than ever. His hand was shaking, and when he looked at it closer, there was a light blue mist coming out of his palm. “G-guys? T-there’s this blue stuff c-coming out of my hands. I t-think it’s ice!” Sierra and Roy rushed to his side. “Roy, you check to see if there is any warm place on him. I can’t touch him in this state, he’s too cold.” Roy put on his warmer gloves, and took Marth’s wrist. “Reveal to me fire in this ice cube…” he said, but in ancient tongue. Suddenly, fire briefly came out of Marth’s hand; the ice and shivering subsided by a long shot. “Thanks! Now…” Marth said, “Let’s cook this chicken!” “We’re the SMR, and we can do ANYTHING!!!” Roy chimed. They put their hands on the chicken, and yelled, “SMR UNITED!!!” To their astonishment, fire, earth, and ice magic left their hands. At the same time, the chicken was frozen, scorched, and seasoned with the greatest of ability. “Wow! We really CAN do anything!” Roy said.

As if to spoil their pep rally on cue, Marcus got out his lance, and for some odd reason, it had a blue strip of fabric tied to it. “Cousin,” Roy said, “where did you get that fabric on the lance?” Marcus untied it, and waved it in front of them all. “This was my uncle Eliwood’s—” “DAD!” Roy cried with such emotion that his voice echoed throughout the crest of earth. “Since when have you ever kept any of my father’s memoirs?” “I keep basically anything of worth of my uncle’s. Odd, really. Since I went to…um….Lyria, I’ve had much interest in my family’s heritage.” “Excuse me,” Sierra interrupted politely, “Lyria is the city of music and knightly training. Not family heritage. Are you sure you’re not talking about Ostia?” Marcus became angry….again. “Princess Sierra of the Jarusians! You’d best be quiet! No one likes your opinions.” Sierra felt tears stinging her eyes, but she did her best to hold them back in front of Marcus.

“You know what?” Roy said, angrily, “I challenge you. To a battle. Now. You chose the place.” Marcus thought, then smiled. “We duel in the Crescent Caves. Come!” Roy did a victory sign with his fingers to assure Sierra that everything was going to be okay.

“So tell me,” Roy said, once they got to the bottom of the cavern, “how DID you disappear for so long from our shores?” Marcus said, “Well, it’s like this, Roy…..I was born, and when that happened, the city was under invasion. I am actually supposed to be marquess, or lord, as you might call it, but my father fled the country and settled in….Aarona.” Roy was shocked. “It’s true,” Marcus continued, smirking, “I was actually raised in Aarona. While you and your family were living as boring nobles, I was enlisted as a servant by my father to the countess Ariella—” “ARIELLA??? ARE YOU CRAZY?! She’s the meanest, most evil heiress ever to ascend the throne of Aarona, whether it was a good citadel or not!” Marcus got out his lance. “You are so dense! Pharae has slowed you down. Now you know. I’m the blonde of the house Pharae who’s sworn fealty to Ariella and her ranks.” Roy unsheathed his sword. “Are we going to duel or not?” Marcus attached the chains to leather wristbands, and thrust the lance from his hand with such force it made Roy wonder if he was using a speed charm. Then he remembered: it was a Jarusian charm. Marcus wouldn’t even use a Jarus spell even if it would save his life.

Roy swung his sword, yelling several Pharaean spells. “PYRRUS! BRISOR! BAEIN! NAZERGA!” Marcus dodged every spell aimed at him. “You want some magic?” Marcus said, “I got magic! ERESHIKAL!” When he yelled this, he shot a flame so dark purple it almost mimicked Ariella’s magic. “WOOOAAAAH!!!” Roy cried, and was struck to the back of the cavern.

“Silly Roy...” Marcus said, “I thought you were much better. Ah well……at least the victory is mine. Besides….you’re just as bad as your father. So weak, he doesn’t even know HOW to duel!” Roy felt a fire inside him: the fire to press on. “I….have….had it! You may not like Sierra, or Marth, or even me, but you never, EVER, say my father was bad! He was the one person who was JUST LIKE me in not only looks, but in personality and friendship. So what if I’m a living clone of my ancestors? I take comments of that as compliments. But, if you would be so vile as to criticize MY side of the family, instead of swimming in your own wealth in Aarona, I have no choice, but to send you back where you came from!” Roy felt the fire within him turn into a massive inferno. He remembered Sierra, Marth, and how they said they would always be together. He remembered the people he’d met: Raia, Marth’s sister, Princess Nadia of Dolua, and others. He was surrounded by friends, and NOTHING could stop him from doing what he was about to do: literally send Marcus back to Aarona. “Hunh….” Roy swung his blade. He felt the gentle earthy magic of Jarus in his veins. “Tei….” He then felt the icy power of Altea. “TORIA!!!” He felt the fire of Pharae in his body, and thrust his sword in the ground, sending a trench about four feet deep towards Marcus. Blue, green, and mainly red streams of magic swirled through the trench, hurdling towards the target. Marcus was too astonished to speak, as the magic teleported him to Aarona. Roy had won the duel.

* * *

Roy ran up the cave slope, trying to avoid the trench he just created. Sierra saw him, and gave him a big hug. “Roy! You won! I’m so happy for you,” she said. “It was nothing….I teleported him straight to Aarona…where he belongs!” Roy declared. Marth was shocked. “That’s a spell I can do!” said the blue-haired prince. “Hey…” said Sierra, “I wonder if that ‘SMR united’ thing was a transfusion of our powers?” Roy refastened his cape. “Could be….but hey, at least Marcus is a cousin, not a sibling!” They all laughed. “Well,” Sierra said, looking upward at the mountain, “I say we get a move on. We have a countess to defeat!”

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