Chapter Text
Once, a thousand years ago, a Fell Dragon princess fled from her father’s stronghold. She flew until her wings could carry her no more, ran until her legs could carry her no more, and crawled until her arms could carry her no more. She collapsed in the dirt underneath blue, cloudless skies, and waited for Death to take her.
Instead, a Divine Dragon came for her. He fought off the Death that attempted to take her. He carried her where her wings and legs and arms could not, back to his home with the Divine Dragons. The Fell Princess and the Divine Prince fell in love, despite the war raging around them. Or perhaps it was because of the war that they came to love each other, brought closer by the force of such calamity around them.
Four dragon hatchlings came to be. Each a Divine and a Fell all at once, with scales of silver-gray, hair as black as the moonlit night and eyes as blue as the sunny sky. One was kind, one was noble, one was insightful, and one was fierce. They grew up amidst a war of Divine and Fell, and between themselves they grew convinced that they could end this war. They were a representation of peace, they thought to themselves. They were living embodiments of the two in forgiveness and kindness. Surely, they could bring this terrible war to an end for the good of all.
War is not so forgiving nor kind, and neither was the Fell King. He did not care for his traitorous daughter or his grandchildren who carried the hateful blood of the Divine. He did not care for peace, or love, or mercy. The Divine Dragons died in battle, one after another. The four dragon siblings were not spared from this fate. The Fell Princess found her children slain, and was so overcome that she could think of nothing but to fall to her knees and pray. She was not a dragon of prayer, but she was a dragon nonetheless. Her words held power, and so did her grief. She had none to pray to but her own children, begging for them to return to her in some way, somehow.
From her children’s bodies came four necklaces imbued with the power of her prayers. Within each necklace slumbered a hero from another world, waiting for the incantation that would awaken them. The Fell Princess took the four necklaces and called forth the heroes to her side. Her children were no more, but the last of their energy had granted her newfound strength. She carried the heroes into battle, where they guided her where her children once had.
“...so, when she called you her children...”
“It isn’t as figurative as you would think,” Alm says, nodding.
Alear has no idea what to say. He sits on the Somniel cafe couch, mouth hanging open. With a sudden alarmed thought, he turns to Byleth next to him.
“No, the Emblems rings were not created in such a way,” he clarifies. “It took the strength of many Divine dragons, but none perished.”
“Oh, that’s a relief... I guess the way that Emblems are created really is different across different worlds.”
“Her creating us didn’t make her our mother,” interrupts Takumi, crossing his arms as he floats next to Alm. He looks somewhat sullen with Alm’s explanation. “She wanted to be our mother, regardless of whose prayers we formed from.”
“Of course. The Emblems are my family, and it doesn’t matter who created them,” Alear agrees.
“Evidently. You’re fast to welcome new members in.”
“What?”
Takumi shakes his head, although the tiny hint of a smile suggests that it’s not in displeasure. “Your chosen father and brother?”
“Okay, but that’s...” Alear starts, and then trails off. “Wait. You heard me call Seliph my brother? And how did you find out about Sigurd...?”
“I had suspected from the moment that Seliph referred to you as ‘Alear’. As for Lord Sigurd, it was far too obvious from watching him. He is fatherly in his very nature.”
“He sounds like Lyon when he talks,” Alm says, to which Takumi grumbles something about being overbearing. Lyon, to his credit, only laughs.
“I suppose I am, at times,” he admits.
“You’re knowledgeable, and it’s appreciated,” Alm corrects him. “I know that Takumi appreciates you too, no matter what he says about you.”
Takumi doesn’t have a response for that, and he suddenly seems very interested in whatever Framme is up to behind the cafe’s counter. Alear chuckles.
“I suppose we have stalled for quite some time,” Lyon suddenly says, clasping his hands together. “I admit, I am fairly apprehensive, but— Ah. No use in delaying any further. Divine One, I’m ready to try your gift.”
Alear’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? You’re sure?”
“Me too,” Alm agrees, giving him a reassuring grin. “Celica told me what to expect. Takumi, how about you?”
“Hmm. Alright,” he says, uncharacteristically blasé about the topic. His arms are crossed over his chest; from the way Lyon and Alm share a knowing look, he must be more excited than he’s letting on.
Boots skid across stone, cloth whips through the air, metal reverberates against metal. Leif and Seliph cross blades in the training area, bantering back and forth as they get close enough to each other. Alear overhears some of their light-hearted ribbing as he approaches.
“—knock you on your ass—”
“Those are interesting words for royalty to sling at one another,” Lyon says, causing both combatants to turn in surprise. Seliph hesitates at who he sees, his mouth forming into a firm, polite smile.
“Oh, hello! I did not realize that you were already finished.” Seliph sheathes his brave sword, walking closer with Leif behind him. “Are you all feeling alright?”
“They handled it much better than I expected,” Alear confirms with a nod.
“Hmm. I find myself quite jealous,” Leif says, and Alear gives him a sympathetic smile; much like Seliph, Leif did not have a very good first experience with inhabiting a Fabrication. “Is there any weakness or numbness in your limbs?”
“I, uhm, almost threw up,” admits Alm.
Seliph blinks. “I was unaware that a Fabrication could do so.”
“It felt terrible, but it went away quickly! So, not that bad, right?”
“I look forward to carrying a bow with my own hands. Fuujin Yumi is always perfectly weighed for me, but the variety in heft and flexibility of different weapons is something I missed. I’ve had my eye on a killer bow for some time,” Takumi adds.
“The Emblem of Rivals hold regular archery competitions amongst themselves. I am certain they would be more than happy to welcome another member.” Seliph is smiling as he speaks but as soon as he pauses, his face falls as though he’s done something wrong and he looks away. His fingers drum against his leg with nervous energy.
“Seliph. For the love of the holy, stop that.”
Takumi strides forward, grabbing Seliph’s hand. The Scion of Light startles at the touch, and is finally forced to look the Wild Tempest in the eye.
“You already made your apology that you had no need to give us. Maybe this is deserved on our part after what we did to you, but we don’t want you to pull away from us.” Takumi sighs, and curls his lips in as though willing himself more courage to speak. “I’m sorry. We can never make up for what—”
“You stop that,” Seliph replies, brows furrowing in a glare that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You all apologized quite enough. But you are right. I should stop hesitating. There is no reason for me to do so.”
“Your mother wouldn’t want her children to fight, would she?” asks Alear.
“They are at it again, are they?”
The sudden voice startles them all, and Alear turns to see an unexpected sight; Lueur, donning a light tunic and loose pants, regards the group with an expression fit for a mother ready to lecture her children. Her lips slide into a smile quickly.
“You should still be resting!” Alm exclaims, and all four necklace Emblems hurry to the Fell Princess’s side. She shakes her head, but even Alear has to admit that she seems a little unsteady on her feet. Tucking a strand of rust-red hair behind one ear, she allows them to fret over her condition.
Rafal’s familiarity with healing nearly-dead dragons came as an unexpected boon. He snapped at Alear to leave the unconscious Lueur with him and he set to work immediately, ordering Veyle and Nel around with instructions that Alear could scarcely understand. Something about Fell dragons and energy and at that point, Alear had been shooed away to care for the Emblems whom he had just saved from being dragged back to a dead home under a tyrant-god’s rule.
Things could have been much worse. They certainly aren’t the best, given that Lueur remains weakened and her home has been rendered lifeless by Sombron. But she is alive, surrounded by her Emblems in a place that will safely house them all from this day forward.
Lueur strokes her hand across her childrens’ hair, marveling at the ability to touch them finally. Alear watches, and feels a sense of pride welling up within him. He helped preserve this. He helped another Fell Dragon fight off Sombron and find her happiness. Some things can never be regained, yet all is not lost. The future will come, and nothing can prevent it. Not Fell gods, not despair, no force in the universe will stop time from continuing forward. There will always be a tomorrow, Alear thinks as Lueur smiles at her Emblems, and is endlessly thankful for such.