Thread: Fire Emblem: A New Revolution (Esyel & Beautiful Disgrace's 1x1)

Ike Selune It had been a feat that no one believed possible, including the leader of the Greil Mercenaries himself, Ike. The recent incident between the goddesses Yune and Ashera, as well as the Tower of Guidance, had all been completely resolved. All the chaos and disorder that had been contributing to those three very major factors had been ended. Now, peace had reigned over the continent of Tellius. Many of his comrades had insisted he leave not permanently, of course. The idea was more akin to a vacation, a very long one at that rate. To say that Ike had been incredibly reluctant at first was quite the understatement. Still, everyone - Soren and Titania especially - had all insisted he not only needed it but deserved it. Ike had thought long and hard on this and decided that, even if the thought of leaving his home nation was an odd if not unnerving one, everyone within the mercenaries was otherwise correct. Before the goddesses and Tower had been calmed, there had been so many other things he and the other fighters had endured. It was a miracle in itself no one among his group had gone insane, truthfully. One long year had passed since he parted ways and took his temporary vacation. Now, Ike was more than eager to return. At the moment, he was specifically heading towards Felirae, an area within the region of Crimea. The boat he had been riding on in order to return finally bumped gently against the soil. A soft, content sigh passed Ike's parted lips. Finally, he murmured as he stepped off the water-crossing form of transportation and back onto land once more, you're home again. Not that the vacation had been bad, mind you. In fact, it had been refreshing to get away from all the bandits or other forms of violence and chaos. At the same time, however, Ike had felt .. lost. He had everything a man could want glory, some of the most powerful blades in all of existence, equally strong friends and comrades. Yet, despite the long list of things he had, the mercenary couldn't help but feel as if he were still missing something. He paused after taking a few steps off the boat, trying quickly to think on what it may or may not be. When no immediate answer came to him, he gently waved a hand through the air. Probably nothing, he decided. Or, if it was, he'd figure it out later on. Until then, there was no sense dwelling on it. The faintest hint of a smile crossed his face as the familiar sight of trees and sounds of nature caught his ears and eyes. But perhaps more than the scenery, he had dearly missed his friends. With the hopes of being able to have a reunion soon enough, his footsteps quickened as he continued to guide himself through the forest and towards the city of Felirae. Meanwhile, within the woods of Arbor, another figure was having their own trek through the forest. Were anyone nearby, they would hear frantic gasps and pants. The sounds alone would have easily spelled out they belonged to a woman, one with a mission. The past several days had been anything but friendly to her. She didn't understand why, but all she knew were the facts. And as they were, soldiers from Crimea had been chasing her. You're cursed, the eighteen year old maiden insisted. You always have been! What other logic is there?! As the woman began to think more on the possibility, her fists clenched angrily. She had always appeared to have an aura of sorts around her. Even from the days of her childhood, she had been stared at. But it wasn't her chest like many would assume well, not always. No. The most dominant areas, actually, were the odd marks upon her shoulders. They themselves were an odd set of, as far as she could assume, tattoos. But what really made them weird was she never asked for them. So, essentially, she had managed to deduce she had been born with them. But .. that didn't make sense at all to the mage. People were born with other things. Tattoos? She'd never heard of such a thing. There had been many times Selune had tried to insist she just misjudged the markings upon her shoulders. But no matter how many times she looked at them, the wind mage couldn't call them anything else. They were certainly not birthmarks, cuts, bruises, nothing else that would seem appropriate. No, they were definitely tattoos. A frustrated sigh elicited from the young mage's lips as her head shook from side to side, causing some raven locks to fall in front of her face. The hell with that! None of that matters for now! she reminded herself, moving the few bangs that had fallen in front of her blue eyes away as she glanced behind her. From what she could see - or couldn't, at that rate - Selune seemed to be in the clear. Had she finally lost those damned soldiers who had been so persistent on chasing her down? I hope so, she weakly murmured, beginning to slow her run down as the pace began to shift to a light jog instead. Stubborn bastards. If they wanna arrest me, they should say what I've done wrong. Damned fools ... But, even if only for now, she appeared to be safe which was good. She didn't want her instincts to act up once more. And with how tired poor Selune was, she would not run. No, she was in no state to. If anyone tried to approach her in an aggressive way, her magic would begin to act up on its own. Normally, this wouldn't be bad. But without having been properly trained, the winds would no doubt get out of control. They had done so once before. Push was coming to shove, as the old saying went. Not only would the winds be stronger than last time, they may not stop unless someone made her, be it in the form of knocking her unconscious or via some other method.