It's time for Chapter Two! Believe me, the story will get longer and much better, since I know the first chapter was kinda blah...and I'll try to update it as much as possible, so enjoy! I do not own Fire Emblem, I only own the OC's that will be featured throughout the story...


Chapter Two: Day of Reckoning

"WOW. I'm surprised Kieran can walk by you without saying something about being a knight or manly pride."

It was two days after Kieran's declaration and extremely long speech. He had not once, in the whole forty-eight hours, confronted Oscar, or even looked at him. He had this odd determined look on his face that made everyone run away. Yes, it was just that creepy.

Oscar nodded his head in agreement to Boyd.

"It's kinda nice not hearing his constant jabbering on and on about it. Peace and quiet at last."

But not for long.

"OSCAR! YOU CURR, WHERE DID YOU DISAPPEAR TO?" Kieran yelled from someplace not so far away.

"Uh oh. I just had to open my big mouth an-"

"THERE YOU ARE! YOU DASTARD! TRYING TO RUN AWAY AGAIN ARE YOU?!" Kieran yelled.

He stormed angrily through a crowd of people and stomped over to Oscar.

"Um...Kieran...I wasn't trying to run away you know...I was just wa-"

"I DO NOT WAN'T TO HEAR ANY EXCUSES! YOU WILL COME WITH ME AND WE SHALL SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

"Ummmm...alright. Can we please go elsewhere though? People are staring..." Oscar said looking at a few passer-bys who were staring at Kieran like he had three heads.

"Oh...uh sure," Kieran said, now aware of how creepy he was actually coming off.

He walked into the camp's main building, and headed down the extremely long hallway with Oscar in tow.

"So...how're we gonna 'settle this'?" Oscar asked to break the silence.

"Oh...you'll see..." was Kieran's reply.

Eventually, they got to their destination. It was just a simple room. No booby traps hidden in the room, no nothing. Just two chairs and a table.

"Sit."

They both sat down in a chair.

"Are we going to have a staring contest?"

"No you fool! We're gonna..." he trailed off.

"What?"

"I was just taking a meaningful pause before I finished my sentence! We're just gonna...talk."

"Talk...? Are you serious?" Oscar asked, stunned.

"Yes I'm serious! I've been think-"

"WOW. You've actually been thinking? What has this world come to?"

"SILENCE! You make me out to be some bull-headed pig who has no thoughts whatsoever!"

"But Kieran..."

"BE QUIET! Now...I've been thinking. I realized now my tatics have not been working...again. And I mulled over it day and night the last two days..."

"You've been...thinking about it for two days straight?"

"Yes! Have you a problem?"

"Uh...no...not really...(except that it's a little creepy)..."

"Alright. Now you would probably like to know what conclusion I came to right?"

Oscar nodded.

"Well...I don't know why you wouldn't want to be a knight anymore. The answer is ever elusive."

"It took you two days to figure that out?"

"Yes! I examined everything from every angle I could possibly think of...and nothing! Absolutely nothing! You were never like this back then! You told me it was your dream to be a knight! I remember it like yesterday..."

Flashback...

Ah the days of yester year...It was a bright sunshiny day...well not really. Actually to be more accurate...it was really, really rainy. The day sucked. You couldn't see three feet in front of you. The new recruits were having battle training. It was kind of hard because the visability was very poor, and everyone was having trouble finding their targets. Eventually, after almost getting impaled by lances galore, the recruit's commander told everyone to put their horses up and to go inside. Everyone was relieved...especially the mud covered recruits who had fallen off their horses because they were extremely careless or extremely clumsy. The fires were roaring in the recruits' bunkhouses and everyone was relieved to be toasty warm instead of soaking wet. Three friend's were sitting by the fire laughing and enjoying their break from training.

"Ah...so warm...I hate the rain," Kirk said as he put his hands near the fire to warm them.

He had deep blue eyes and long black hair pulled back in a ponytail and blue tunic with tan breeches on. He also had his ears pierced. His armor was blue and was sitting near the fire drying off along with Oscar's and Kieran's.

"It's good training, fighting in weather like that! Imagine if that was a real battlefield! Half of us would've already be dead or serverely wou-"

"Give it a rest Kieran! No one wants to hear it!" yelled Crispin, an aspiring archer.

All the others voiced their agreements with Crispin's statement.

"Well I'm just saying that most of us were unprepared and they would've be-"

"Kieran...I think you'd better be quiet now," Oscar said quietly.

"Bah!" Kieran grumbled, heading over to his bunk, which he shared with Oscar. He flopped down on his bed and rolled over, facing the wall.

"Oh no, Crispin has done it again...he's in his pouting position," Kirk said as he turned back to Oscar, who was currently reading a book.

"Crispin is really good at that wouldn't you agree?" Oscar said, smiling.

"Oh yeah...those two must really hate each other..."

"I wouldn't doubt it."


"Stinking Crispin...always has to get the last word in...I swear I will get him one of these days..." Kieran fumed.

Everytime he got angry, he would go lay on his bed to quietly seethe...and curse Crispin to the darkest depths of the special hell usually reserved for child molestors and people who talk in the movie theatre...not that any of those things existed yet. So as he fumed, their commander, Norman, burst into the room, sending everyone scrambling to stand at attention. Norman was a very tall, very lean man with a bristly mustache and a bristly personality to match.

"Attention! Since we will not be able to practice outside today, we will be working on proper care methods for your armor! Everyone is to go to the tool shed and grab a rag and polish! I expect you back here in less than five minutes! Dismissed!" he boomed like a modern day drill sergeant.

Everyone scrambled out the door and hastily jogged to the tool shed to grab their cleaning supplies.

"Aww...curses...we get stuck learning cleaning methods on the first rainy day we've had off...this sucks..." grumbled Kirk as he and Oscar grabbed some rags.

"It's not so bad. At least we aren't cleaning other people's armor, just our own," Oscar replied.

"GAH! I HATE CLEANING!" someone yelled from behind.

Lo and behold it was Kieran.

"CLEANING? CLEANING OF ALL THE ACCURSED SUBJECTS?! THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO POINT TO CLEANING!" Kieran yelled angrily.

"Well Kieran...if you don't take care of your armor, it will get really dirty and it will look bad, and people won't take you seriously. Even if you are a good fighter," Oscar said, knowing Kieran would be liable to explode again if he didn't at least try to calm him down.

"Bah...stupid cleaning..." he grumbled, snatching up a rag and some polish.

The three friends speedily made their way back to the bunkhouse. Norman was already yelling at someone for getting their foot stuck in a bucket that was collecting drips from the leaking ceiling.

"YOU OAF! YOU DON'T HAVE THE MAKINGS OF A KNIGHT! HOW COULD YOU GET YOUR FOOT STUCK IN A BUCKET! YOU ARE A DISGRACE! FIFTY LAPS OUTSIDE NOW!"

The poor clumsy guy's name was Erik. He was a bit of an airhead, but he came from a wealthy family who thought he had potential to be a knight. To make a long story short, he didn't. He was extremely arrogant and cocky, which made everyone hate him, and because he had no talent and didn't even know which end of a sword to hold, that made everyone hate him even more. But because his parents had enough money to keep him there (probably because he had no talent and they just wanted to get rid of him, even though he had no talent and was absolutely useless), there he stayed. He had one follower, and his name was Dexter. Dexter was a complete idiot. He was extremely nerdy and had a high pitched nasily voice, which was really annoying and that was one of the reasons no one liked him, and plus he was a zero who was really weird. He rode an old, old gelding named Horace. He was slow. He was stupid. Therefore, he wasn't worth his weight in grass, though grass is free. Pretty much to sum it up, he wasn't worth squat. His reaction time was extremely poor; it took him at least five minutes for him to notice that someone was on his back. He couldn't keep up with any of the horses at a gallop, even though some of them were walking. Dexter had confessed that he wanted the old horse to die on many occasion so he could get another horse, as his parents had promised, that is if Horace keeled over very, very soon, and had made many attempts to push the old bag of bones to his limit so that maybe. just maybe, he would croak. But MAN was that old horse tough. He didn't even keel over after he was forced to walk to the back of the barn and back to his stall. Erik's horse, however, was a different story. He was fast. He was strong...but he wasn't smart. Just like his owner. His name was Rock. He was a 17.7 hand monster on four legs. He wouldn't let anyone but Dexter or Erik touch him...much less ride him. But when Erik got onto his back unscathed, he was in for the ride of his life. Rock didn't like to stop, nor did he like to go slow. He liked to go fast and by fast, I mean like REALLY fast, and once he started, he never stopped. Sometimes Erik would have to borrow an extra horse because Rock wouldn't allow him to practice like he should, and that would cause Norman to start yelling and that would mean extra chores or laps to be run.

"Now...as for the rest of you, I shall now demonstrate the proper wiping technique..." Norman said as he began to teach the recruits how to make their armor nice and shiny.


"MY HAND! IT BURNS!" Kieran howled two hours later.

"Dang...two hours of circular motions can really be painful, " Kirk said as he nursed his aching wrist.

"Well, it wasn't that bad...I guess."

"NOT THAT BAD? HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!" Kieran moaned, soaking his hand in hot water.

"I'm just saying it could've been worse...as usual," Oscar said nonchalantly.

"How can you be so calm cleaning when the rest of us are hating every moment of it?" Kirk asked, shoving Kieran aside to have his turn with the hot water.

"Well, it's always been my dream to be a knight, and I'll make it happen no matter what. Even if that means I have to clean armor for the rest of the time."

"Dedicated much, eh?" Kirk said, heading over to his bunk, which he just happened to share with Crispin.

"I suppose so. Is that a bad thing?" Oscar smiled.

"No, it's not, but I'm glad you're not overly dedicated like Kieran," Kirk joked, laughing.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, DASTARD?! COME SAY THAT TO MY FACE!" Kieran yelled, tackling Kirk.

He missed and crashed into the bed post.

"You'll be feeling that in the morning...and I was just joking Kieran. And don't start with that manly pride crap either, " Kirk laughed, hopping onto his bed and blowing out the candle on the bedside table.

Kieran picked himself off of the floor holding his head and stomped over to his bed, flopping down, facing the wall.

"Oh no...he's in the pouting position again..."

"He'll get over it. Good night Kirk," Oscar said, climbing up into the top bunk.

"Night Oscar. Night Kieran."

Kieran grunted and blew out the candle.


Yaye! Chapter two is complete! I told you it would be so much longer! I hope you enjoyed it! By the way, I do not condone treating animals badly like Dexter does. It's so not cool. Thank you and good night! Since it is night when I'm writing this...