Halcyon Days: Fire Emblem Drabbles

『 Unspoken Words 』

|| Spoilers for FE: Sacred Stones ||

⧽ Lyon and Ephraim ⧼

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❝ I wonder, Ephraim.
What will you do when I die?
And don't ask me how I know where my fate lies —
you're the one who told me I was never meant for this path. ❞

⟵⟷⟶

Of the three of us, I always knew I would be the third wheel. But that never really mattered, because being near a radiance like you was warmer than anything else I'd ever felt.

Eirika is the moon to my stars, shining brightly and casting a warming glow against the cold sky, but you, Ephraim...

You are the sun in my sky, and that, I think, burned more brightly than anything else.

Do you remember, Ephraim, the first time you twins visited Grado?

It was winter, and it was bitterly cold, and if I'm being honest, I'd half expected you to demand your guards to send you back home to the warm fields of Renais. So I was overly polite, tripping on my unsteady feet like a poorly arranged servant (and I remember how you chastised me afterwards, reminding me of our friendship).

To my surprise, and whole-hearted ecstasy, you didn't seem to mind — the barren fields, the cold castle, the sunless sky — and that fact alone made me nearly cry.

I was lonely, and distrustful of mankind (which is, looking back now, perhaps what may have started me on this path), but you filled the cracks in my heart all the same.

I remember that you became exceptionally close to our general, Duessel. He's the one who taught you the lance, isn't he? That kindled a fire inside you, Ephraim, whether you remember it or not, and Eirika would call you a brute, to enjoy the thrill of battle. But I idolized that "brute" — that fearless hero — inside you. That made you... well, you.

As for me, I think you of all people should know that I abhorred fighting; this was common knowledge. But when you fought, I didn't see a senseless bloodlust or carnage. Rather, you were a champion of the people — while easy to rile, you are, at core, a gentle person, and that hasn't changed to this day. But even so, you've remained forever my antithesis; while I was destined to stand back on the battlefield as the brilliant strategist of our army, you were to remain on the frontlines, striking into the core of the opposing army. A truth, to which I've always wished, didn't have to be proven this way.

But that's all that ever was — a wish — and that's all it ever could have been.

Because wishes are meant to be sought, craved, and mourned, and I'd always known that once I'd started this long journey, there was no turning back. But that didn't mean I was invincible in the face of temptation; of all the times I'd doubted myself, I think the first, and last, time I'd faltered was during our meeting at Grado castle.

Your chiseled face was set, and your jaw was clenched, unmoving; brave; resolute.

At least, that's how you tried to appear before me.

But all I saw was an age-old boy, whose bright blue eyes begged me for things to not be this way — to be anything but this. And for one moment, one moment only, I'd wished that I'd never done anything at all. Wished that I'd left Grado's dark future to the cruel grip of fate, and let myself be engulfed, once more, by childhood anamnesis. But such an idea was arrogance; it would belittle the sacrifices I'd made, the blood I'd shed across my soil, and the lives I was destined to take.

Even now, a leg in the grave, I am not sorry. Not sorry for the things I've said to you, because if I hadn't, I know that your vigor now would've disappeared without a trace. Not sorry for what I've done and the people that died, because it was the only way. I have no right to apologize to ghosts whose battles were already lost when I'd touched Grado's sacred stone; no way to redeem myself in a conflict that I'd orchestrated.

But he's still there, that weak, little boy who's best just isn't enough. He still cries often, trips on long robes, and adjusts a crown too large and heavy on his tired head. He remembers his friends and the love of his country and father, and he admires you, Ephraim — he always has. You are everything that he is not, and he reveres you for it all the same. He still treasures the things you say, still burns the matured lines of your face into his memory because he knows that any day could be his last. He is soft-spoken and kind; stubborn and self-conscious; and knows that no matter what he does, it would always result in a fruitless struggle and the same relentless suffering.

It's all he's ever known.

History will paint me as a body fallen into disgrace and tragedy; a soul too broken to repair because there was never any hope for salvation when it had already been sold to the devil. I will be marked as the catalyst of a ruined country; a bringer of ignorance whose arrogance only shredded the innocence of those who held him dear. A knave who committed the unthinkable, and wrought meaningless disaster into society.

In other words, the villain of every story.

Perhaps it's all true. Perhaps I am a fool, and was never meant to climb an untrodden path laden with crippling consequences. It won't ever change that I am the ultimate betrayer of humanity.

But you know, Ephraim, and I want you to remember that sweet, caring, ever-so-slightly awkward boy.

Of course, I'm not asking you to forget what I'd done, the blood that was shed; nor am I begging you for undeserved forgiveness.

But simply remember who I really am; not the demon inside, not the cold king, nor the legend I pretended to seem.

Just the man I really was and was always meant to be.

A single tear tracked its way down a chiseled face, set and resolute, bright blue eyes pleading for it to be anything, anything but this.

His jaw was set, teeth grinding against unspoken words that his tongue couldn't seem to betray.

He cradled his friend, whose crown lay broken atop his head, who took his final breath as a smile seemed to ghost across pale lips.

A murmur, nothing more than a whisper that escaped his lips, and he knew that those quiet breaths would be his final words.

❝ I love you, Ephraim. I always have. ❞

⟵⟷⟶

Before anyone says anything, no, this isn't a Lyon/Ephraim ship (though it's easy to see how it can be). It's just that pure friendship honestly seems to be the best fit for this kind of story, and adding romantic love makes it feel more cliche and would focus less on Lyon's character than I'd want it to be,,, (which is one reason why I dislike Eirika's route).

that being said, I love Lyon's character as an ORIGINAL antagonist whose tragedy doesn't lie in his backstory, unlike maybe Zelgius and Hardin, but instead, his character arc. He's a complex guy whose personality was very worth diving into!