Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lucina was no time traveler. Up until a few days ago, she hadn't even thought such a thing possible. When Naga had told her about it, she'd been all too eager to take her up on the offer. With nothing but a crumbling world to lose, she was desperate enough to seize any chance to fix it.

That said, this was not quite how she imagined it to be.

The world around her spun every which way, compressed into a tight, glowing blue vessel. Lucina tumbled through it, barely aware of the pulsing lights around her, the river of time pushing her down a trail of never-ending rapids. She couldn't even tell what was up and down, not with how she kept turning head over heels over head over heels, on and on and on. Not that she could see herself flipping out and over like the world's clumsiest dancer falling down a flight of stairs.

Lucina was sure she would have lost what little she had for breakfast long ago if it weren't for the fact that she did not seem to have a stomach anymore. Or a body, for that matter. She flailed around, lost in the current of reality's lifeblood, desperate for something, anything, to catch her and slow her fall. She could feel her arms and legs splashing against the frothing rapids threatening to drag her under, but all she saw below her was a strange, glowing blob of yellow.

To say it was weird would be a gross understatement.

She felt so lost. She didn't know where she was going, she didn't know how to stop. She didn't even know how long she'd been here. It felt like she'd been falling for an eternity, dreams of seeing her father again lost in the endless flow of time.

She flung her arms out, or at least, she felt them fling out. Anything she could feel brush against her non-existent fingers, she tried to grab hold, but they all slipped from her grasp like fish rushing downstream. She became more frantic, thrashing in the rapidly accelerating stream but try as she might, it only carried her faster and faster. There was no escape for her.

Then, a voice.

"I think we should set up camp. I don't want Lissa to push herself anymore."

It was a voice she recognized, a voice she hadn't heard in so long. A face came to the front of her mind, one that she held so dear she was barely aware of the words that slipped from her own mouth.

"Father?"

Her vision blurred. She didn't even have eyes, yet she still felt a wetness pool around them. Through the dizziness sloshing around in her mind, racking through her head like an echo, she let her eyes roam around until they finally fell on a streak of light above her. A streak of hope.

Unlike the others, this one lingered around her. It seemed content to stay by her side. She could hear voices from them, most of them muffled. Yet through it all, she could still hear the voice of her father.

Was... was this her way out?

Pushing off against the current, like she was propelling herself through water, Lucina reached out to grab it.

Something slammed into her, and she flew away.

"No!" Lucina tried to grab it again, but she was helpless to watch the streak of light grow smaller in the distance. That was her way out, she had been so sure of it. She'd almost had it, and... whatever this was, it had ripped that away.

A surge of anger shot through her. Without a physical body, it felt like her entirety coursed with a red-hot fury, giving her another burst of speed and sending her flying after it.

This time, she saw a purple shape tear through the time-stream toward her. The blue light rippled, parting in a stream of white foam, before the purple shape slammed into her.

Lucina fell back. As soon as her vision cleared, she tried to find that one sliver of light again. Her way out.

But it was gone.

Her eyes fell on the purple shape before her. The one thing between her and escape.

For the longest time, Lucina had felt aimless. Off-balance and lost, tumbling through the flow of time without any direction. An eternity could have passed and she wouldn't have known it.

But with this... whoever this was, whatever this was... just being in front of her, she felt more focused than she'd ever been.

"Out of the way!" Lucina wasn't even sure she'd spoken. She'd felt the words leave her mouth, but she couldn't hear it.

The purple shape responded, though, glowing brighter for a moment before it settled back into its dimly lit hue.

When Naga had offered her a second chance, she'd seized it with both hands. She was desperate enough to take it, and by the Gods, she was going to have it.

Behind the purple shape, a light flickered and twitched, swimming against the time stream.

A cry tore itself from her. She felt her hands stretch out. She felt the ethereal presence of time around her part as she lunged for the purple shape.

And from the corner of her eye, she noticed the purple shape weave out of her way, and knock her into the side.

A bright light engulfed Lucina's vision. She watched as the stream of time disappeared from her sight, the purple shape watching as the light sealed up around her. She watched the streak of light, the one with her father's voice, shrink in the distance.

And then she was falling and falling and falling.

And then, like someone had thrown a color onto the blank canvas of light, the world splashed itself onto her vision in a cloud of dust, the rough stone cradling her back as she crashed into the floor.

"Did you really beat King Gangrel by yourself?"

"Well, I did have a little help. But he was a bad man, and he wanted to kill so many people. He almost killed your mother, so I had to protect her."

"Wow. Father, you're so amazing!"

Lucina woke to the sounds of screaming and the metallic tang of blood. She was on her feet in a moment, her sword drawn a second after. The sounds of battle echoed within the walls around her, and a muffled blast shook the ground. She had no idea where she was, or what was happening, but the faint smell of blood in the air heightened her senses and set her heart pumping. She had to fight, even if it might be for her life. Tightening her grip on her sword, Lucina stepped forward.

Her legs promptly gave out, and she ended up with a mouthful of sand.

Lucina spat the sand out of her mouth. As she pushed herself off the ground, wiping the dirt off her clothes, she frowned.

"Sand?" she murmured, letting a few grains fall through her fingers. As she finally tore her eyes from the floor and let them roam about, she noticed the strange glyphs running down the walls. She didn't recognize any of them, save for one: the six-eyed mark of the Fell Dragon.

"Grimleal..."

She took a step forward. Her legs buckled, threatening to fail her again. Lucina's head throbbed with pain, the aftermath of being flung into the past, no doubt. Still, she clutched her head, feeling around the edge of her mask, and forced herself forward, pushed through the haze on a pair of legs that felt foreign to her.

Grasping at the edge of the doorway, Lucina barely managed to pull herself through it. Almost instantly, her eyes were assaulted by the sun through her mask, its scorching glare setting the sandstone floor ablaze. She peered through the blinding sheen, only to see a swarm of blue and purple writhing on the floor.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, though, the blue and purple solidified into forms, then into the fluttering capes and cloaks of mages and soldiers. A battle was set before her, already in full swing.

"Where am I?" she said. Her frown grew, and her hands lightly traced down her throat. Her voice sounded unfamiliar to her.

"When am I?" she added a second later. She was in Plegia, the Fell Dragon's mark as good as gave it away, and in the future, there were hardly enough people to wage a war with.

In the distance, she saw the flag of Ylisse fly high in the air. She was sure this was the Plegia-Ylisse war her father had regaled her with time and time again, the one where her father fought against the Mad King Gangrel.

As she scanned the crowd for a familiar face, any of the Shepherds who had fought by her father's side, and found none, however, worry began to take root, a worry that only grew when she realized the Ylissean flag bore colors of blue and gold.

"I thought Exalt Emmeryn's colors were green and gold," she muttered.

A fireball hurtled out from the crowd, sizzling and crackling with magical energy. Even from a distance, Lucina could feel the heat peeling off from it as it soared over her head and exploded into a geyser of red and orange.

The ground shook with the impact, cracks racing down the walls. A piece fell loose, and it crashed in front of Lucina, shattering on impact and peppering her with shards of stone. On instinct, she stepped back. It was something that might have saved her life.

A silver streak cut across her vision, and the tip of a sword nearly brushed the bridge of her nose. A soldier almost stumbled into her. Lucina's steel sword came up in an instant, ready to defend herself, but she relaxed upon seeing the blue peeking through the cracks in his armor.

A Ylissean soldier, then. An ally. As she took a moment to steady herself, though, she noticed the odd weight the steel sword had in her hands.

Steel? she thought, frowning. What happened to Falchion?

A memory slammed into the front of her mind; Falchion in the hands of her brother. She'd given it to him for protection, so sure she could take care of herself without it.

Almost as quickly as he had appeared, the Ylissean soldier flew to the side. His body crashed into the wall with a metallic crunch, and a massive cut ran from his shoulder to his hip. The sand around him began to take on a red color, not that Lucina noticed. Where the Ylissean soldier had stood seconds ago, a Plegian fighter towered over her, the axe blade in his hands glazed with a shimmering red.

Lucina fell into a fighting stance on instinct. It was a movement she'd had ingrained into her head, after having to fight off the Risen time and time again.

Which was why she was so confused when the Risen fell into a stance as well.

She shook her head. No, this wasn't the future. There should be no Risen here.

"Raugh!"

Her eyes snapped open just in time to see the Plegian fighter's axe descend toward her. Her sword met it head-on.

Then the axe plowed right through, forcing her blade aside as it dove toward her face.

The axe blade dug into the stone floor, bouncing off with a clang. As the Plegian fighter stepped back, Lucina hissed in pain. Her eyes fell to her arms, hanging limply by her side, her sword dragging against the floor.

Her arms didn't even feel like her own. They burned, still numb from the impact. She'd almost been killed because they couldn't hold, fatigued just like the rest of her body.

Lucina gripped her sword tighter, tight enough for her nails to dig into her palms. They would not fail again. Not when so much was on the line.

She glared down the Plegian fighter. He continued forward, unfazed. His second swipe went just as wide as the first one, Lucina almost losing her balance as she stepped back to avoid it. The Plegian fighter growled, and he raised his axe again.

Then, in the crowd, Lucina saw a flash of blue hair.

Was... was that her father?

The aching in her limbs suddenly faded. Even as her father disappeared in the crowd, she felt something bubble up from inside her chest. Her father was here.

A silver gleam caught her eye. Her eyes widened, and she turned just in time to catch the Plegian fighter's axe on the blade of her sword.

She cried out as her sword was almost ripped from her hands again. The Plegian fighter twisted it away, and it took all her effort not to let slip from her grasp. She never noticed him rear his head back.

The Plegian fighter smashed his skull into her face, and her vision exploded into white. She stumbled away. Her legs, already weak before, gave out, and she tumbled back.

The crowd almost swallowed her up. Instantly, she found herself twisting away to avoid being skewered by a lance. Arms and legs flew in every which way, Ylisseans and Plegians alike trapping her in a frenzy of death. Lucina couldn't tell what was coming where, but as she looked back, through the blades and flames, she saw the Plegian fighter running toward her, still hungry for blood.

Lucina turned tail, slipped past a Ylissean knight, and ran.

I need to get out of here, Lucina thought. She ducked under a sword swing and curled her nose in distaste as the pungent smell of copper hit her nose. I'm not supposed to be here. This is such an important battle. If I change anything here, who knows how it could affect what's to come.

No matter how fast she ran, the battle just seemed to stretch on, like she was stuck in the middle of a jungle where it rained blood. The arid, salty stench of sweat, the bright flashes of the weapons as they painted the sand red, it all felt too real for her through the fog over her mind.

The fog parted just in time for her to see a blade streaking straight for her heart. Without thinking, she sidestepped the thrust. As a bulky arm swept past her, she tried to slip under it.

Someone grabbed onto her hair and dragged her down. She grunted as she crashed into the ground, a cloud of dust rising up around her face, and her sword clattered as it fell away. The back of her head throbbed, but the feeling had started to return to her arms. She slid one under her. When she lifted herself off the ground, an armored boot slammed into her shoulder and dug it into the ground.

She heard her arm pop. Pain lanced through her shoulder, and she bit back another cry. Dazed, she barely managed to lift her head to meet her attacker's gaze.

Above her towered a monster of a man. His face, and any emotion they may have held, was obscured by a faceplate. Blue streaks ran down his armor, jagged plates making up the most of it, covering his entire body, from his chestplate down to his boots, marking him out as a Ylissean great knight.

His shoulders heaved. Through the faceplate, she could hear his ragged breaths. And though she couldn't see his eyes, she could feel his glare pierce through her, like he was stabbing her with his gaze alone.

"You..." he wheezed out between his heavy breathing, "You dare get in my way? You dare run away from the battle like a coward?"

With each word, his foot only pressed harder. It took every ounce of willpower she had to keep her teeth clenched.

"Sir," she spoke softly, barely hearing her own voice over the sounds of battle, "I fight for neither side. I stumbled upon here by chance, I swear."

"You wear our colors, yet you dare lie about your allegiance? You disgust me." The man spit onto her face. To her relief, the spit splattered over her mask.

Relief quickly turned to dread when his scowl grew deeper.

"And quit wearing that. Your mask cannot hide you from your fate," he snarled, and he reached down for her face.

Feebly, she tried to wrench the mask from his grip, but her only free hand could barely hold its own against his meaty fingers. Her panicked struggles elicited a sadistic laugh, and he held the mask high in the air, dashing any hope that she could take it back.

Lucina, on the other hand, couldn't be any more afraid. Her eyes seared at all the light flooding into her skull. Her left eye burned more than her right, as if to warn her that the brand on it was exposed. Without her mask, there was nothing to keep it hidden, nothing to keep her royal blood under wraps. Everything was going so wrong so quickly, leaving her completely winded from one terrible thing to the next.

The instant the great knight lifted his weight off from her, she jumped to her feet. The great knight didn't even wait for her to steady herself before he shoved her forward into the battle. Behind her, she saw a flicker of yellow.

The great knight must have expected her to take the blow for him. It would explain his furious shout when she hit the floor, letting the thunder spell fly over her head and slam into his chest. As it disappeared into a shower of sparks, a web of electricity spreading over and around him, Lucina lunged for the mask in his hand.

The mask dropped to the floor. She barely had time to register that before the great knight grabbed her hand instead, turned her around, and drove her to her knees.

"Coward!" His hot breath washed over her head, steaming with rage. Lucina yelped as he twisted her arm behind her back. "If you cannot take a blow for your Exalt, you would serve our cause better dead than alive."

His sword glinted in the sun as he rose it over her head. Lucina struggled, even with one arm pressed painfully to her back, her other arm hanging limply by her side, her hair matted with dirt and her face exposed to the harsh sun. She struggled, even when her captor refused to budge, or when she felt him bring his sword down. It was hopeless for her to try to escape.

The great knight's sword crashed into the stone floor with enough force to gouge into it. Streams of blood trickled down its blade.

Not hers, though.

Lucina reared her head back. The sword brushed past her face, barely missing the tip of her nose. Before the great knight could realize he'd missed, Lucina brought her head forward. She sank her teeth into his bare, unprotected fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

Bone cracked under the force of her bite. The great knight howled, his voice carrying over the open desert. The crushing grip around her arms vanished, as did the hand holding onto his sword.

Lucina threw herself onto it. As soon as her fingers curled around it, she tore it from the ground.

This man, whoever he was, was a fanatic and a bully. He didn't deserve to fight at her father's side.

She didn't think as she moved. She let the movements come to her as she whirled around and drove the sword into his chest.

Only too late did she notice Falchion in her hands.

Lucina dropped the sword like she'd picked up a burning coal, but the damage had already been done. A hole sat at the center of the great knight's chest, piercing through his chestplate, flesh and bone, and gone out through the back. The great knight groaned once. Then, he crumpled, the clang of his armor crashing into the floor loud like thunder. As he lay on his side, Lucina finally saw the blue mane peeking out from behind his helmet.

Far behind her, she heard someone cry out, "The Exalt is dead!"

Chapter Text

The scorching desert sun bore down onto Lucina as she sprinted through the dry grass. Searing wind slapped against her cheeks, and grains of sand trickled into her shoes with every step, abrasive against the soles of her feet. For every step she took, her legs cried a little harder, but she could hardly feel it past the prickling running up her tighs.

Feeling moisture running down her forehead, she wiped an arm over her face. It came away slick with sweat. Lucina gave a disgusted grunt, shaking her arm dry. As soon as she wiped it clean, another wave of sweat cascaded down her face. The crunch of the brush underfoot marked one step after another. It fell on deaf ears, the ringing in her head much louder than any noise around her, all centered around one thing.

She'd just killed her grandfather.

It couldn't have been anyone else. Falchion. Fighting on Plegian soil. The strange colors of the flag. It all swirled together to paint a very different picture than she would have liked.

A glance over her shoulder only revealed the barren plains. To her relief, no one seemed to be following her. That... that was good. The Ylisseans were probably busy with their dead Exalt.

The second her eyes wandered, her foot caught on a root. She managed to steady herself, but her run had taken a knife to the gut.

Her steps slowed. Lucina willed herself to move faster, but her legs, worn from time travel, the battle, and now this, refused to listen. The numbness coiled around her legs unwound inch by inch. The instant they did, the pain caught up to her, practically slamming into her.

Her head felt like a hammer, and her joints tore at their sockets. The great, heaving breaths she took rattled her lungs, and a faint thrum resounded in her ear, her heart pounding against her chest.

She'd already lost track of how long she had been running. An hour? An hour and a half? Five minutes? It didn't matter, just as long as she didn't get caught.

Fighting her fatigue every step of the way, Lucina cursed when her feet snagged on another tangle of grass. It was an action she regretted immediately.

As soon as her voice passed through her throat, it cracked. A sharp blade wove through the inside of her neck, gouging smooth, dry chunks from it. Each breath passed through it rubbed against the throbbing pain, leaving them feeling raw every time she sucked in a gust of air.

Her throat felt unbearably dry. Lucina let out a ragged cough. Her hand fell to her side, fingering her belt for her canteen. Her fingers traced over leather, over her still empty sheathe, and over the metal buckle. But her canteen was gone.

She would have cursed again. Instead, she let out a yelp as her legs finally gave out, and her knees buried themselves into the dirt. Her hands followed, throwing themselves out in sacrifice to keep her face in the air. The scorching dirt seared her palms. She bit back a cry, instead curling her hands into fists, digging into the ground as she did.

Dimly, she heard herself mutter, "...can't stop here... my father needs me..."

She tried to push off the ground. Her bones groaned in protest, and she buckled instead. Her lips twisted into a scowl, not ready to accept defeat just yet.

She tried again. This time, her bones weren't so kind, threatening to fail entirely if she tried one more time. Lucina refused to listen. Not when so much could be on the line.

Her grandfather was dead. Killed by her own hand. She couldn't save her father if she was executed for treason.

Just when she thought she'd finally built up the strength to push herself back to her feet, a glimmer caught her eye.

Even through the shimmering heat, it was impossible to miss the tiny brook of water, sparkling in the blistering desert sun. The cool, refreshing water, running past her, barely an arm's length away.

It was a tempting offer, to stop and take a drink at the brook. She would have to give up, even if only for a moment. But then, she was only human, wasn't she? With her canteen missing, dropped on the battlefield or left in the future, she didn't know, what other option did she have?

A short break couldn't hurt.

It would only take a moment, Emmeryn told herself.

Just one more minute in bed, she thought, turning over, tucked within her bedsheets. I'm not ready.

Of course, she also knew that if she didn't get up now, she never would be.

She peeled her eyes open, and the soft morning light flooded in. Birdsong drifted in from the open window with the cool breeze, her curtains fluttering and flickering in the wind. The sun, flowing in alongside it, bathed her white sheets in a heavenly glow like the breath of Holy Dragon herself had wrapped itself around her and kissed her cheeks with warmth.

A sigh dragged itself out of her lips, just as Emmeryn dragged herself out of bed. Once the bedsheets rolled back, leaving her exposed to the damp air, she wanted nothing more than to pull them up again. She shivered at the sudden drop in temperature around her, but her body adjusted to it before she could complain.

She sat up, the mattress crackling under her shifting weight, and she arched her back and stretched her arms into the air. Her joints popped, as she let out a small yawn. Her hand came up a second too late to cover it. She pretended she couldn't have caught it if she wanted to. Her tutors would have had her head even then, but they weren't here yet, so it wasn't as if such things mattered.

Again, her bedsheets called to her, its inviting embrace tempting to fall back into. She ran a hand through her hair. A hum slipped from her, and for a moment, she let her mind linger on how nice it was to just sit at the edge of her bed, the cares of the world nothing but distant thoughts.

As tantalizing as its offer was, though, such was not to be. Judging from the sun clawing its way into her bedroom, she would have lessons soon enough, as much as it pained her to admit.

If only I could hold the sun in its place while I sleep, she thought. Just another hour is all I need.

As if to rub it in her face, reality came knocking on her door.

Emmeryn frowned. She'd not even have a few minutes to herself, it seemed.

"Come in!" she called.

She realized a second later that her plain yellow nightclothes might not be the best manner to address anyone, but by then, the door had already creaked open.

An elderly man emerged from the door, a pair of spectacles sat on his nose. "Your Grace, I–" His eyes fell on her, and he stopped. "Oh, I didn't know you had yet to dress yourself," he said, bowing his head. "Forgive me, I'll return when you call for me."

"No, it's fine, Tomas," Emmeryn said, and she held out an arm to stop the elderly man. "Please, speak."

"I must insist. It is improper for one as lowly and humble as myself to speak with you on such terms."

"Nonsense. I'd very much like to hear all the same. It must be urgent if you've come to me this early."

"Ah. Well, you see…" The man, Tomas, tapped his fingers together, his lips stretched into a sadden expression that seemed all too restrained. "The news I bear... it's not as pleasant as you might imagine."

"Not as..." Emmeryn's brows pulled down, taking a second to wrap her mind around his words. "You mean bad news?"

"Yes. That. Bad news... regarding the... war, you see."

Emmeryn's brows sunk even further at that mention. "The war?"

"Does this displease Your Grace? If it does, I shall refrain from speaking of it."

"No, it's just that–" Then she noticed the discrepancy. "Your Grace? Tomas, that's my father's title. I'm not Exalt yet. And I thought all this war business was supposed to be directed to someone more suited to react."

"Well, you see... I believe it important for someone of your standing to know the circumstances surrounding you and your family, and..."

"Tomas? What are you trying to say?"

Tomas' face twitched. "We tried our best to save him. The brave men and women on the front lines, they fought so hard to keep him with them, but in the end, he..."

Suddenly the room felt too cold for her, the world too big. Her stomach clenched, and the sunlight, moments ago a comforting presence, seared through her clothes and into her skin. All her carefree thoughts from the morning felt so distant.

"Your esteemed father, Exalt Alabaster Lowell, is dead."

"Dead, you say?"

"Yes, it would seem so. I saw him die myself. I assume all according to your plans?"

"Yes, yes. He wasn't long for this world, anyway. This changes nothing."

The faint cry of insects filled the air as soon as the conversation dropped. The tent flap fluttered, the wind pushing it aside as it circled the two men in the room. Around them, the sound of distant chattering broke through the morning rhythm, and the shadows of soldiers milling about flickered on the tarp.

Sitting at the other end of the table, Validar scowled. His eyes narrowed, almost as if to drill holes through the head of the wyvern rider sitting before him. Orton, he vaguely remembered from his earlier introduction.

It wasn't as if the news displeased him. Far from it. He had planned the Exalt's death, but to hear that he'd been killed earlier was a pleasant surprise, especially since it gave him more time to hunt down a certain pest hiding in the kingdom.

It was less of a problem as to what the message was than who was delivering it.

"Well, if you have nothing more to say," Orton said, turning back toward the tent entrance, "then I'll see myself out–"

"Wait."

A smirk tugged at Orton's lips. A smirk Validar would have loved nothing better than to quash with a Waste spell to the face.

Instead, he let a smile of his own spread over his face. "Come. Sit," he said, and he motioned for the chair across from him.

Orton pulled out a chair next to it instead. Validar's eye twitched, but he didn't comment. Instead, he reached down and pulled out a small pouch. From the pouch, he pulled out a piece of hard candy.

"Caramel?" he said, offering the bad toward the wyvern rider.

Orton raised an eyebrow, but he didn't move.

"It's sweet," Validar added. "A delicacy from the royal kitchen."

"Then I don't mind if I do." Orton leaned over the table and plucked the candy from Validar's fingers, much to Validar's irritation, and popped it into his mouth. Validar let his hand fall back beneath the table.

"Orton." He let the name roll around his tongue, testing the feel of it in his mouth. "I don't believe we've met before. A new recruit, I assume? One of Lieutenant Vasto's wyvern riders."

Orton's eyes wandered to his fingers, and he drummed them against the table. "Not for long, not if I have anything to say about it."

"Oh? Ambitious, are we?"

"I was my master's top student. I'd expect nothing less of myself."

"Yes. Well, I haven't seen your prowess in battle, so I can't say."

"You only need to see me once, I'll promise you that."

Validar's lips curled. "Oh, I've already seen enough."

"Pardon?"

"You wouldn't be here if you truly were climbing the ranks. No, you'd be back at the front lines, wouldn't you, messenger boy?"

"Aha." Orton chuckled. "The others don't share my sentiment. Simply because I do not have the same experience they do, they place insignificant errands on my shoulders. A simple mistake to make, yet one that only a fool would make. But you, you're no fool, are you?"

"A fool?" Validar chuckled. "Boy, do you know who I am?"

"You're Validar, the king's hierophant and tactician. Sorry–former king's hierophant and tactician."

"And what does a tactician do?"

"I don't know." Orton waved his hand in lazy circles. "Plan things for the Grimleal, I assume? Last I heard, you were planning something big for them."

"Big doesn't even begin to describe it."

"I've heard you've been pretty successful so far, eh? Wouldn't you hate it if something went wrong? Maybe because you couldn't get all the details?"

Validar gritted his teeth. "What do you want?"

"With our king killed from our most recent battle, and the Ylisseans withdrawing their troops, there's been talk of civil war. The king never had an heir, you see, so the throne is up for grabs. What I want," Orton said, leaning over the table, "is a favor."

"A favor? Those can be quite dangerous."

"But also very powerful."

Validar muttered something.

"I can't hear you," Orton said, and he cupped his ear.

"I'll think about it."

"Not good enough. I'll need your word. An advisor's word is worth quite a bit, wouldn't you say?"

Validar hummed. His chair creaked as he fell back into it, his hands steepled before him. He stared down Orton, completely silent for a few seconds.

"Describe to me," he said at last, "how the Exalt died. I know you have a written report on you, but surely it would be so much better to hear it from an esteemed warrior as yourself."

Orton glanced up at the ceiling, and he chuckled. "Well, it happened sometime around midday, in front of one of those old Grimleal temples. The last I saw of him, he was writhing on the floor with a big hole in his chest."

Validar's eyes closed, and he nodded. "But who killed him?"

"Your word. Then I'll tell."

Validar didn't speak. Instead, a smile spread over his face. Silence draped over the table, the only sound the crunch of teeth grinding hard candy. It stretched on for seconds, then minutes, until Orton finally broke it by clearing his throat.

"If you've got nothing to say, I suppose you'll never know what I have to say," he said.

The chair creaked as he tried to get up. His eyes widened when his arms wouldn't budge. When his gaze fell beneath the table, he found oozing tendrils of magic wrapped around him, binding him to the chair. A sinister glow washed off from him, and as he looked back at Validar, the hierophant only grinned.

Only then did Validar allow his hand to rise above the table, dark magic woven around his fingertips.

"You call me a fool for underestimating you, yet the only fool here is you. Your pathetic mortal mind cannot begin to comprehend power such as my own."

Orton opened his mouth, perhaps to plead for his life.

"Elfire!" Validar cut him off, thrusting his hand toward the wyvern rider's face.

The tent lit up in a bright orange.

Validar stretched his lips into a grin, his teeth gleaming in the low light. He savored the scent of burning flesh for the few seconds it lingered. Writhing on the floor, Orton's screams began to fade as his consciousness slipped away, half of his face charred black.

Looking down at him, Validar scoffed. "If you want to move up in the world, I suggest you keep in mind who you antagonize, lest you find yourself in the maws of a more powerful predator."

He cared little if Orton had heard, or if he was still alive at all. As far as he was concerned, if Orton woke, he'd learned his lesson.

The tent flap rustled. Validar glanced back up just in time to see a Grimleal priest enter, his head bowed.

"Is now a poor time, Master Validar?" the priest asked.

"Not at all," Validar said. He motioned to the unconscious Orton lying on the floor, traces of smoke still wafting from his face. "Find somewhere to dispose of this nuisance. In the middle of the camp, in a river, whichever is convenient."

"As you wish."

As the Grimleal priest knelt to pick up the body, Validar leaned back, his lips pursed as he let his thoughts stew.

The Exalt's killer, huh? It can't be one of ours. The soldiers are hardly the quietest bunch, so if it was, the rabble would never shut up about it. It's either one of the Exalt's own men, or a neutral party. How inconvenient.

The Grimleal priest had made it halfway out the tent flap when Validar called for him to stop.

"Chalard, was it?" he asked.

"Yes, that is my name," the priest replied. "Or so I've been told."

"Tell the wyvern riders we have in this camp to tail any Ylissean pegasus knights they come across. Tail, not engage. Sparking another war is the last thing I want to do, at least for now."

"As you wish."

"And another thing: once you finish, I want you to head to Ylissitol. Keep track of any prisoners that find their way to the dungeons. If the Exalt's kin are anything like him, they'll stage an execution for his killer."

"And then?"

"I'll give you further instructions once this mysterious killer is caught."

The Grimleal priest bowed his head one last time. Then he disappeared through the tent flap. His footsteps, made ever more present by the crunch of dry grass, faded soon enough, leaving Validar to himself.

Flames crackled and popped as he lit a plume of dark magic in his palm. Watching it flicker in his hand, an ever-changing swirl of green and purple, he said, "Soon, my love, I'll find you. And when I do, you'll learn what happens to those who get between a man and his power."

Chapter Text

A thick, oily scent stirred Lucina from her slumber. It curled around her face, snaking its way into her nostrils and tainting her thoughts with visions of food until her empty stomach made itself all too apparent with a resounding growl.

Lucina groaned, silently cursing her weak body for giving in. There was no food, not in the middle of the desert. Her body seemed insistent on reminding her of the fact, the hole in her stomach drawing further down with each passing day. Yet it seemed only now did her senses attempt to grant her a moment of reprieve, tempting her with the smell of food she knew did not exist.

I suppose returning to the world was inevitable, she thought. But waking up hungry in the middle of the desert is hardly the best way to start on good terms with the day.

Then she opened her eyes. To her surprise, she found herself in the middle of a room, a sheet draped over her, and the only sunlight the beams slipping in through the window. It was cool and cozy in here, a far cry from the blazing heat of the desert, and the mattress beneath her was a luxury when compared to the sandy floor she'd been forced to sleep upon for who knew how long. A small part of her coaxed her back into the void of sleep, if only to enjoy the warm embrace of proper bedding for a little longer.

Paranoia kept her awake.

Who found me? Where am I? Did I get away? What's going to happen to me? Questions, too many questions swirled around her head. What little sleep remained in her fled, cleared out by all the thoughts stirring her mind.

The mattress beneath her crackled as she pushed herself up, her hand coming up to cover her brand on instinct. The room she found herself in was spacious, much too spacious for a bedroom. The air around her felt cool, though that could have simply been because she had grown accustomed to the sweltering desert air. Over the wide, wooden floor, she found a small table, a purple and yellow cloth draped over it.

Behind that, a woman knelt before the fireplace, her dark hair draped down over her shoulders and flowed down her back.

Lucina had never seen this woman before in her life. The closest she could compare her to was Aunt Tharja; the shade of purple in her hair was very similar, yet it was too wavy. Aunt Tharja's face was also a little longer, her eyes a little more narrow, and she would never be caught wearing such a warm smile.

Lucina blinked. The woman's smile only grew, and her chocolate brown eyes held Lucina's gaze steadily.

"Good morning," she said, her voice carrying her words with a melodic cadence.

Lucina's questions immediately rose to her throat, all rushing to the front of her mind at once and causing such a clutter that all that came out of her mouth was, "Good morning."

She took a moment to organize her thoughts. "Excuse me," she said, clearing her throat, "but, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

"Ah. It seems I've not introduced myself yet." Taking a moment to shift a pan away from the fire, the woman stood straight and with her arms at her sides. "My name is Aria."

"Aria. What happened to me? I don't remember coming here."

"I'd be surprised if you did. I found you lying unconscious in the middle of the desert," Aria said. "I hope you don't mind me bringing you home."

"No, it's fine," Lucina said. "I'm not sure I would have survived without you. You have my gratitude."

The woman hummed, and she turned back to her cooking, and the sound of sizzling filled the air once more.

Lucina was sure she had never heard of this woman before in her life, yet something about her felt familiar. The way she held herself, the way one corner of her lip tugged up in the faintest traces of a smirk when she spoke, it all struck an uncanny nerve with Lucina.

Then again, with the appearance of the Exalt before Emmeryn–her grandfather, she reminded herself–she could simply be the parent of one of her aunts or uncles.

Tharja came to mind, obviously. The similar hair color could be written off as a coincidence, but with her grandfather's death fresh in her memory, she didn't want to end up killing anyone else's grandparents as well.

Henry was another option she considered, being the other Plegian she knew. Of course, that was assuming she was still in Plegia.

A glance out the window told her she was no longer in the desert or the dry brushlands. There were too many trees for that, but even those took on a strange, yellowish hue, much too dry for anything deeper into Ylisse.

Through the trees, she managed to spot a cobblestone road weaving through the woods, small houses lined up on either side and further down, she could see a crowd milling about. It was such a peaceful scene.

Is this what life was like, in the small villages and towns before the Fell Dragon attacked? She'd not seen settlements this far from Ylisstol, having spent most of her early life cooped up in a castle. With the Risen roaming the lands, smaller settlements like this must have been wiped out, so this was a novel sight for her.

"Where am I? What is this place?" she asked, turning back to the dark-haired woman.

Aria looked over her shoulder and chuckled. "I'm afraid there isn't much I can say."

"Is there?" Lucina frowned. "I saw a village outside. Surely this place must have a name to mark it on your maps."

"There's no name I can give you. This village needs none, not with its presence completely wiped from the maps."

"I see." Lucina narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She kept them on the woman, even as she turned back to her cooking.

A hidden settlement. Lucina couldn't help but find that a little fishy.

"Perhaps, then, you could tell me which kingdom we are in?" she said.

Without looking, the woman said, "Oh, I believe we should be very close to the Ylisse border."

"So this is Plegia, then?"

The woman didn't reply. Lucina's irritation only grew, and a frown pulled at her lips. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but the woman cut her off with a sharp rap against the pan.

The woman lifted a small piece of meat from the pan. Lucina watched bubbles of oil fleck the surface, even as the woman slipped it into her mouth. Just hearing the wet sounds the meat made as the woman chewed it had her own mouth drenched, and she was tempted to ask for a piece.

Of course, it was rude to ask for food. Being a guest in the woman's home, it was much better to wait for an invitation

As she swallowed, a grin broke out on the woman's lips. She turned her head to a door on the side.

"Robin! Breakfast is ready!" the woman called.

Then it all clicked into place. A little too well for Lucina's liking.

There was no response at first. When the silence dragged on, Robin's mother frowned.

"Robin! Are you trying to find that rat of yours again?"

"I'm not gonna give up!" came the faint reply.

"Dear, I know you'll catch him someday, but right now, you need to eat!"

Another pause. Then she heard someone say, "Coming!"

It couldn't be that Robin, Lucina thought. It would make so much sense, but for me to have not considered that... there must be some mistake.

And yet, the second she caught sight of the familiar shock of white hair, there was no denying it: somehow, against all the odds, she had ended up in the house of her Uncle Robin.

Her mind sputtered, coming to a halt in a shower of sparks. The hair was the discrepancy, sure, but aside from that, it matched up. The woman's face matched what little she could remember of Uncle Robin's, and her stance matched the confident way he carried himself whenever he spoke. Uncle Robin had never been one eager to speak of his past. Perhaps it was an effort to keep this village hidden?

She was so distracted by her thoughts, the conversation at the other end of the room passed through her ears like noise.

"What did you make for breakfast?" Robin asked.

"I'd like you to take a guess."

"Well, I saw you bring home a basket of eggs and a big bag of meat. The bag was too big to be chicken, so... that means steak and egg!"

"That's a smart lad," Aria said, her grin stretching her cheeks. "Come over here! Breakfast is waiting!"

"Okay!" He strolled over to the table, but he paused when he noticed Lucina sitting on the other side of the room. "What about her?" he asked.

"Her? Eh, she won't mind. She doesn't look hungry, not with that scowl on her face. I think she might want a little more rest."

"Hm?" That got Lucina's attention. "Oh! No, I'm very hungry. I apologize if I came off as hostile. I just... have a lot on my mind."

"Me too!" Uncle Robin chirped. "My mom says I got lots going on in my mind cause I'm so smart!"

"I understand," Aria said. "I know all too well how much thoughts can weigh you down. Perhaps a little food might help you think? And heal whatever you've got on your face."

"The what?"

Robin's mother motioned to her left eye, and Lucina remembered the hand she had over it.

"I'd like an eyepatch," she blurted out. "I've got a nasty scar beneath my eyelid, and I'd prefer if no one had the chance to see it."

"I'll see if I have some," Aria said, already getting up from her seat.

"But you don't–"

Robin's mother leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Robin stiffened, before he relaxed and nodded.

As Lucina watched, she felt suspicion creep up on her again. Do they know about the brand? I can't have been conscious for very long, so they couldn't have caught a glimpse of my eye. Could they?

Lucina already knew how smart her Uncle Robin could be, and if his mother was anywhere near his level of intelligence, her secret might not be easy to keep. While she was sure they would never harm her, she didn't know how such a reveal could shape the past. She needed to be careful.

As his mother turned and slipped through the door leading further inside, Uncle Robin fixed her with a smile.

"Where did you come from, miss?" he asked

"Why do you ask?" Lucina replied.

"When mother found you, you were all dirty and covered in sand. Unless you were birthed from the desert, you have to come from somewhere."

Lucina smiled a little. "Well, the last place I've been was a big temple."

"Which one?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. It couldn't have been too far. Perhaps a day's walk from here?"

"The nearest temple is a two-day walk," Robin's mother said as she emerged from the door. "You must have walked a long way if you've come from there."

"Yes. I suppose I must have." Two days? That didn't sound right, but she had been delirious. It was hard to keep track of time if you couldn't even keep track of yourself.

Lucina watched as Aria slid back into her chair. She pressed an eyepatch to the table, in front of a third chair at the side.

The invitation was obvious. Lucina wouldn't be able to take it without coming to the table. It wasn't as if Lucina was in any position to refuse, though, so she plodded over.

"That reminds me," Aria said as Lucina fell back into her own chair, "I've introduced myself, and I'm sure by now you know the name of my son. What's your name?"

Lucina thought for a moment, before she said, "You may call me Marth."

"Miss Marth?"

Lucina glanced up to see Uncle Robin approach. She shifted on the stump she was sitting on, a little uncomfortable under his gaze. Young as he was, he still had that familiar analytical look that could unnerve her.

He can't be any more than four, Lucina thought. My father was very close to his age, and Aunt Lissa was only two years younger. At least this means I haven't prevented them from existing by killing grandfather. The thought brought some relief to her, knowing she hadn't messed up too badly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I'm thinking."

"Did mother's cooking do nothing to help?"

Lucina shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"That doesn't sound right," Robin said, pouting. "Mother's cooking always helps me when I think too hard."

"Well, maybe I have too many thoughts for it to help me with."

"Like what? Mother says I'm very smart. I think I can understand."

"You might," Lucina said, and she gave a long sigh, "but... they're heavy thoughts. Much too heavy for anyone else, even if you'd understand it. Maybe if we meet again, I'll tell, but now is not a good time."

"Oh. Okay."

Robin scurried around her and out of sight. A few seconds later, he poked his head back in front of her.

"Have you seen my rat?" he asked.

"Your rat?"

"Yes."

"Is that it?" Lucina said, and she pointed over his shoulder.

He followed her finger. "No, that's a bunny rabbit," he said after a moment of consideration.

"Is it?"

The rabbit leaping into the bushes behind answered her question.

Lucina frowned. "I think a bunny would be a better pet."

"But it's not my rat. My rat is my... what did mother say? I'm like my rat's father."

"Its father..." Lucina laughed dryly. "This rat is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I can understand that. My father is very important to me, too." She tapped a finger against her chin.

"Are you thinking about your father?"

Lucina looked over at Robin, her eyebrow raised. "How can you tell?"

"You made a face when you started talking about your father, so it has to be about him."

"Huh. You are very smart, aren't you?"

Robin's proud smile spoke for him, even before he said, "I know."

Lucina glanced away. A cool breeze combed through her hair, and she sighed. For a moment, she let herself drift into the past, suddenly reminded of all the times she'd spoken to Uncle Robin when she was a child herself.

Funny how, now, she found her situation reversed.

"He's so important to me, and because of something I did, I can't see him anymore. At least, not for now."

"Then you can help in the village."

"Hm?"

"Mother always says that time goes by fast when she's helping the village. If you have to wait, you might as well do something with it," Robin said, shrugging.

That didn't sound like a terrible idea. Waiting in the village for the Plegia-Ylisse war. Whenever Robin set off, she could go with him, if only so she could meet up with her father.

"Maybe I will," she said, and the faintest traces of a smile flickered on her face.

Surely she had time to spare.

The servant's supply closet was cold, cold enough for her breath to fog. It was jarring how different it was from the rest of the castle. No one in their right mind would ever want to stay, surrounded by soggy mops and dusty brushes.

That was exactly why Emmeryn had decided to hide here.

Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her dress. The sob that escaped her was the furthest from graceful she could remember being. Her etiquette tutors would berate her for such a showing. Sitting with your head tucked into your chest and drawing your knees together with your arms is bad posture, they'd say.

Either that, or they would tell her what a great man her father had been, give her a necklace adorned with shiny gems and run away before she could ask why he was so great. She didn't know which she would have preferred.

With her father dead, everyone wanted to tell her that they were sorry for her. There were just so many nice words, so many nicer gifts all in so little time.

She didn't have the heart to tell them she still couldn't believe all this was unfolding before her. So she'd come here instead.

When she heard the door creak open, she pretended not to notice.

Is it another noble, come to tell me they're sorry and leave me with another dress? she thought bitterly.

Maybe if she didn't pay them any attention, they would just leave her alone. Maybe if she stayed curled up like this, they wouldn't know it was her. She only hoped they wouldn't come over and remind her that her father was gone.

As the sound of footsteps drew closer, her hope began to wane.

She tried to tell herself they weren't here for her. Maybe they just need a brush in the back. Or maybe they need to put away a pan from the kitchen.

And then the footsteps stopped. Emmeryn lifted her gaze just a tiny bit.

The crushing despair she felt when she saw a shadow cast over her was immense.

She stayed frozen in place, even as they moved to sit beside her.

Emmeryn didn't talk. To her relief, neither did they. As far as Emmeryn was concerned, everyone was happier this way. She was fine, staying like this, so long as they didn't open their mouth and say–

"D-do you want a cake?"

"Huh?" Emmeryn was so surprised, the response slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"My mother told me to bring them to Miss Simone... b-but I think you need them more. You know, since you're so sad."

Emmeryn let her gaze travel up a little more. Her green eyes met dull brown. A girl, just a little bit younger than her brother, sat next to her, her mousy hair hovering over her shoulder in thick locks. A bright yellow flower sat over her right ear, woven into her hair with delicate care, and a silver platter sat on her lap, four small cakes set around the center.

"Won't you get in trouble?" Emmeryn asked.

"I'd feel bad," the girl said, "but I'd feel worse if you got ignored."

Emmeryn didn't speak, taking a moment to process it all. Cake had been the last thing on Emmeryn's mind, not with her father's death hanging over her like a thick cloud of sadness, but now that she had mentioned it, Emmeryn couldn't recall the last time she'd eaten.

"O-oh. I'm sorry, you don't like cake, do you?" The girl must have taken her silence as a negative reply, and she started to draw the platter away.

"No, not at all!" Emmeryn said. "I love cake, it's my favorite food in the world!"

"Really?"

"...No?"

The girl's face twisted into a frown. "You don't have to pretend for me."

"I'm not pretending. I'd love cake. Could I..." she motioned toward a cake, looking at the girl for permission.

"Oh. Take one."

Touching it delicately, as if it would disappear at any moment, Emmeryn lifted a cake dish off the platter. The sweet scent stirred her empty stomach, and for a few seconds, the only thought in her head was how good it would feel to sink her teeth into the cake, how the sugary taste would flow over her mouth like a river of sweetness.

"Is this normal?"

The girl's soft voice, barely more than a whisper, brought her back to reality, the cake inches away from her mouth. As she moved the cake down, Emmeryn turned to face the girl.

"Is what normal?" she asked.

"Crying a lot," the girl said.

"I don't know?"

The girl's lips wobbled. "I didn't cry a lot when I learned my father died."

Something crawled up the back of Emmeryn's throat. That... didn't make sense. Did it?

"Why?" Emmeryn said, her voice wispy and dry.

"Well, I wanted to cry. But my mother, she never did, so it just felt wrong. Am... did I do it wrong?"

The bitter taste of guilt filled Emmeryn's mouth. Her stomach churned, and suddenly she felt like throwing up.

What was she doing? She... she needed to be strong. For Chrom, and for Lissa. She was their big sister, and they needed her more now than ever. She couldn't be sitting in a corner by herself and eating cake.

The cake dish touched down on the platter with a clink. It took all her strength to tear her fingers from it.

"Thank you," Emmeryn said, turning to the girl. "T-thank you for your help."

"Huh? But I didn't help!" the girl insisted.

"Just... Y-you have your job to do, as do I." Emmeryn motioned toward the door, all while hoping the girl missed how her voice wavered.

The girl looked unconvinced, but in the end, she rose to her feet and headed for the door. As she watched the girl disappear, Emmeryn felt a voice in her head tell her to stop the girl.

Emmeryn shook her head, and the voice fell silent. She didn't have time. As long as her father's killer was running rampant, Chrom and Lissa might never be safe. No one had any idea what they wanted, but if it meant death to the Exalted family...

She would catch them first.

Chapter Text

"Can I stay?"

Robin's mother, Aria, gave her a curious look. "You seemed in such a hurry this morning," she said.

"I'd just woken up, so I hope you'll forgive my frantic behavior," Lucina replied. "That said, I've had a... change in perspective."

"Was it my son? Has he been a bother to you?"

"Not at all. He simply helped me realize a few things. My situation was hardly as dire as I assumed, and I've just realized I need a place to sleep."

Aria stroked her chin and hummed. "Yes, he's smart like that," she said, "Well, an extra mouth to feed shouldn't be too much of a problem, so long as you can pull your weight for the rest of us."

Lucina saw her chance, a chance she was eager to grasp. "What is it you need done? I can be useful, just tell me what to do."

"There is one thing I'd like you to do." Aria pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, along with a few gold coins. Before Lucina could blink, she found a basket thrust into her hands. "It's a shopping list. I'd like you to gather everything here at the marketplace down the road. If you could do that for me, I'd be free to do more work today."

Lucina stood a little straighter, her face firm with purpose. "I'll get it done," she said.

"I appreciate it," Aria called after her as she turned and headed for the door.

A warm breeze rushed in as soon as Lucina pulled the door aside. She basked in the sunlight for a bit, before she started out the door.

Her steps clicked against the cobblestone road. Lucina's eye fell to the piece of paper in the basket. She had feared a wait in solitude, with the Plegia-Ylisse war years away. This, though, could make the wait a bit more bearable.

The thought brought a smile to her face.

Thunk!

Lucina jumped. Her hand fell to her side, but all she grasped was air. Her heart pounding, she whirled around, her foot sliding back to run.

Robin stared back, the hatchet in his hands buried halfway in a log.

Her shoulders fell, and Lucina sighed in relief. This isn't the future, she kept reminding herself. Not every stray sound could mean a Risen ambush.

"Miss Marth? Is something wrong?" Robin watched her intently, curiosity evident on his face.

"I'm fine." Lucina waved a hand over her shoulder. "I thought I heard of something."

Robin's hands fell to his side. "Did it sound like tiny feet? Because it could be my rat."

"I'm sorry, it wasn't." Lucina chuckled. "What are you doing out here?"

Her words brought a frown to Robin's face. "Mother is having me chop firewood."

"Is that so? Why such a long face, then? You look like you're at the end of the world."

"Mother says it's to help me build my strength, and I don't want to. Why do I need to chop wood when I have my smarts to help me?"

"A little extra muscle couldn't hurt, could it?"

"I suppose."

Lucina knew little about her Uncle Robin. She knew that he was her father's best friend and one of his best advisors. She also knew him to be a ferocious warrior on the battlefield, and a kind listener to his friends. When he was alive, she had loved him dearly.

Yet seeing a pout on his face, Lucina couldn't help but think it was funny how such a childish expression seemed out of place on him. Briefly, she imagined him as an adult with the same pout, and she laughed.

"What's so funny?" Robin's pout intensified, and he put his hands on his hips.

"Nothing you have to worry about." Lucina turned away, before she called out behind her, "Good luck chopping that wood."

She didn't wait for him to reply before she continued down the road. As she walked, she pulled the list into her other hand. She unfolded the list, and she read the first item scrawled at the top.

"Pears, huh?"

"What is this?"

"They're the things you asked for."

Aria gave her a flat stare. She plucked a round, yellow fruit from the basket set on the table, holding its glistening skin up to the sunlight streaming in from the windows.

"I don't recall putting apples on the list," she said. "Pears, perhaps, but not apples."

"Is that what they are called? The vendor said they were the same thing."

"Of course he'd say that, the greedy bastard," Aria muttered into his palm. Turning to Lucina, she said, "Marth, I'd advise you to take what you hear from a stall owner with caution. Most might leave out a detail or two, if only to sell you more of their produce."

"Will they? I shall keep that in mind."

"And how come you took so few oranges?" she asked, dangling a pineapple from its pointy green leaves.

"You asked for three pounds of oranges, did you not? And three pounds is approximately the weight of a small child, so I took as many as I thought would weigh as much as a child."

"Your definition of a small child must be a great deal smaller than mine." Aria let out a long sigh, before she let the fruit in her hands fall back into the basket. "Could you not have asked for assistance here as well?"

"Ah... you see, the vendor was quite silent for someone so large. I was so startled when he approached me I... ran off."

So she'd gotten scared. It wasn't her fault. She wasn't used to being unarmed, and her first response had been to flee. If she still had her sword, it wouldn't be a problem.

"Mister Raphael won't be pleased to hear that, you know. He's quite the sensitive soul, and he has a heart of gold."

Lucina blinked in disbelief. "Really? I didn't mean to offend him. If I have, I shall apologize the first chance I get."

"I suppose it can't be helped now," Aria said. "I'll have to work with what I've got."

Lucina stepped back and let Aria count the items in the basket. After a moment, she asked, "Marth? There are only five apples here."

"Oh. Robin asked for one on our way back, and I saw no problem in giving him one."

"Our way back?" Aria raised an eyebrow.

"He wandered off to find his rat again."

Lucina was surprised to see what lengths he'd go to find a rat, but he had been one of her father's closest friends, so she supposed she should have expected such resilience, even if it was over something as silly as a rat.

Aria shook her head. "That boy..."

Lucina allowed the woman to stew in her frustration for a bit. As soon as she stopped rubbing her temples, Lucina felt she might be calm enough for her to ask, "Did I miss anything from the list?"

A solemn expression on her face, Aria turned to face Lucina and said, "Miss Marth. I don't believe you are suited for this kind of task."

"Am I?" Taken aback, Lucina took a step away. "Then what else is there for me to do?"

"Give me time, I shall think of another thing I might require your assistance for."

The answer, while not as solid as Lucina would have liked, cut off any further discussion. Lucina did not want to be a bother, so instead, she headed for the door. Perhaps some time alone would bring Aria a new task for her to assist with.

Lucina watched Robin hack away at the small log. It was almost comical how little progress he made, no matter how many times he buried his hatchet into the wood.

Still, she would be an awful niece if she left him to suffer on his own.

"Would you like some help?" she said.

Robin left his axe stuck in the log, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Yes," he said, stepping back. "I think I'd like that very much."

A few splinters flew out as she yanked the axe from its resting place. She tilted it, her eye roaming up to the blade and down to the hilt, noting how its weight felt in her hands.

Oh, how she missed the familiar weight of her sword at her side.

For now, this hatchet would have to do.

"How do you chop firewood?" Robin asked.

"Well, first you have to..." Lucina's lips tugged down. She hefted the hatchet in her hands, and she swung it once. She tried to think of a way to explain it, but no words came to mind.

Actions spoke louder than words, she decided. Perhaps if she did it, she could explain it after.

Lucina pulled the hatchet back and brought it down as hard as she could.

The head snapped off. Lucina's eye widened, and without thinking, she threw herself in front of Robin.

Luckily for her, the axe head flew the other way, disappearing in the yellow grass.

Lucina's eye fell to the splintered handle.

"I guess I won't be able to chop firewood for some time," Robin said.

"Well, that's the end of that, I suppose. At the very least you'll have more time to spend with your friends."

"I don't have any."

Shock showed on Lucina's face. She recalled all the fond memories she had of spending time with her Uncle Robin. Although they were barely more than a blur, the one thing she could clearly remember was how warm he'd been. Clearly, these children didn't know him if they would turn up their noses to such a man.

"Well, someone would have to be an idiot if they wouldn't want you as their friend," she said.

"Yeah?" The faintest traces of a smile slipped through Robin's face. "Would you be my friend?"

"I don't see why not."

"You mean it?"

"I do."

Robin's smile widened, and he jumped up. "Do you think you can help me find my rat, then?"

As much as Lucina wanted to say yes, she shook her head. "I've got an errand to run." She lifted the basket in her other hand to show him. "Though I believe I'll have the time to join you later."

"Alright then. Good luck!"

The sun had gotten a lot cooler in the hours that passed compared to the scorching heat of the afternoon.

Lucina wiped the sweat from her forehead with her free hand. Her other hand throbbed under the weight of the basket, now laden with a vibrant rainbow of fabrics. She felt quite proud of the assortment she'd picked out, and as she counted the items in her basket one more time, a grin slipped onto her face.

I can't remember the last time I went shopping, Lucina thought. Her smile softened as she found herself dwelling on the past. It's such a calm and relaxing thing to do. And the people here do it all the time, without fear of running out with the fields tainted by the Fell Dragon's darkness. I could get used to this.

The crowds were another matter. All the bustling and jostling about horribly skewed her sense of direction. She couldn't ever be sure if her path was straight, with how people kept pushing her every which way, not to mention how it kept her busy trying to keep her items from tumbling out of the basket.

The laughter of children was a welcome respite from the flat and dull chatter of the crowd. She heard the pittering of their footsteps long before she saw them. Stepping back to let them by, Lucina watched with amusement as a small group of children rushed past her, their arms cast behind them without a care in the world.

Her eye trailed after them down the road, and that's when she noticed the blacksmith shop. As she drew closer, she saw a red glow coming through the open door.

She'd just reached the entrance when a shadow cast over her. Surprised, Lucina took a step back, her hand grasping at a sword she knew wasn't there.

Bald head. Scarred red skin over his swollen left eye. Lucina's gaze trailed up the hulking figure. The vendor from before looked back down at her. In his hands, a delicate statuette of a small dragon sparkled in the sun.

"Heart of gold huh?" Lucina muttered, watching as the vendor walked past her, his lips curved up in a delicate smile. At least she hadn't run away this time.

Her eye strayed to the door, then to the axe handle in her basket. She'd forgotten to return it to Robin, but now that she was here, perhaps she could do a favor for him and his mother.

She started to have second thoughts the moment she stepped inside, and a wave of heat crashed over. She swept her gaze over the stone walls, awash with orange from the setting sun and the furnace deeper inside, when her eye landed on the hooded man at the end of the room, standing behind a stone countertop.

"Another customer, hm?" the man said, his voice hoarse and scratchy. "Though this one seems a bit... hesitant. Come in, come in."

Against her better judgment, she stepped closer, letting the glow of the furnace wrap around her.

The man's smile widened. "Quite the fair-skinned lady, aren't you? A common trait. You could be from Ylisse up north, or all the way over from Rosanne... Where is it you hail from?"

"I don't believe I can answer that," Lucina replied.

"Ah. What have we here? A touchy subject?" The man hummed. "Most people believe such things should remain a mystery."

Lucina grimaced, thoroughly uncomfortable now. "I'll find business elsewhere."

"I'm afraid elsewhere is a place that does not exist," the man said, stopping her before she could turn back. "This is the only blacksmith in town. Unless you would like to conduct business another day? I can assure you, my demeanor remains unchanged, no matter the circumstance."

Her lips twisted, but she didn't move. On one hand, she did not want to remain around this strange man for much longer. On the other, Robin needed her help. If nothing else, this was the least she could do.

She reached into her basket, pulling out the splintered handle. "Did you make this hatchet?" she asked.

"If you've found it within the village borders, my hand has most certainly touched it. My memory seems to recall having repaired it some time in recent history, though it's hard to say when."

"Then do you think you could repair it? Properly, this time."

The man stroked his chin. "The quality of the work depends on the payment. If you were to pay me a generous sum, generous quality is all I have to offer. It's only fair, wouldn't you say?"

Lucina glanced inside the pouch Aria had given her, and she scowled when she found only seven gold coins.

"Could I pay you later?"

"I'm afraid not. There is no guarantee you'll pay enough otherwise."

"Then I shall return at another time."

"One," he said, stopping her again, "more thing. Before you leave." His finger trailed up to the badge on her breast, orange outlined in a gold design. "That badge is Ylissean in origin, no? Rather expensive, too. Where did you–"

The badge slammed down on the countertop before he could finish. He raised his eyes to meet Lucina's.

"Will this pay well enough?" she said.

"Certainly." His fingers wrapped around the badge, and it disappeared beneath the counter. "Now that I think about it, I believe I have a similar tool in storage. If you can afford a moment, I shall procure it for you."

"I'd appreciate it if you could be hasty about it."

The man tugged down on his hood, and his teeth glimmered in the low light. "But of course. It is my pleasure to be of assistance."

Aria's head rested in her hands. Across the table, Lucina shrunk back.

"Marth."

"Yes?"

"I didn't ask for nearly this much fabric."

"Well, the stall owner drove a fantastic bargain."

"And what did you think I was going to do with all this fabric? The insects will have eaten through the rest by the time I might really need them."

"Gods, I messed up again, didn't I?"

"I'm sure you had your reasons." A sigh passed through the woman's lips. "Why don't you take a break? Perhaps that will help clear your mind."

The metal blade buried itself into the stump with a deep thump. As Lucina tore the hatchet away, she bent down to gather the two halves of the log lying beside it and tossed them over to the growing pile of firewood. She wiped her arm over her forehead, and it came away slick with sweat.

This whole 'normal life' business has proved quite the challenge, she thought, reaching over for another log. Inspecting produce, haggling prices. Back in the future, the marketplace had never been this complicated.

Then again, her friends would take trips to the marketplace for her, so she could be wrong.

The hatchet slammed into the stump again. Lucina watched as the two halves fell to the side, cleaved apart in a single stroke.

At least I have this. Though I'd admit, this is much different than doing it with Falchion. She inspected the hatchet in her hands, and she let out a long, satisfied breath. What a day.

"You're quite good at this."

Lucina lifted her gaze back to the house. Aria stood before it, leaning against the door, and a sly smile spread over her lips. Lucina followed her eyes to the hatchet she was holding.

"I've had plenty of practice," she said. "It helps me relieve stress."

Actually, she did training to relieve stress, but this wasn't a poor second choice.

"Don't stop," Aria said. "We could use some more firewood, after all." Her lips tugged down. "That said, you wouldn't have to do this if Robin hadn't run off. Have you seen him?"

"I have. He said he'd run off to search for his rat."

Aria closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "That sounds like him. Smart as my boy is, he can be rather stubborn too."

"Is that truly a bad thing?"

"Not always. Sometimes, though, you need to know when to let go."

Aria walked over to the pile of firewood and plucked a piece from it. Taking a moment to scan her eyes over it, she waved a hand over her shoulder as she headed back to the house.

"If you see Robin, tell him to return home. Supper will be ready soon."

Lucina's eye followed the woman, even after she had disappeared inside. A smile wormed its way to her lips. Her stomach growled at the mention of food. At the end of the day, the food from the past was far superior compared to the meager rations she'd had in the future.

"Supper sounds nice," she muttered.

Slowly, she brought her attention back to the log before her. As much as she wanted to eat, she had a task to finish. She rolled her shoulders back, testing the weight of the axe one more time, before she raised it over her head.

Then she stopped.

Faintly, she could hear the sound of wings flapping through the hot summer breeze. She hoped it was merely her imagination, but as the seconds ticked by, they only grew louder.

She craned her neck to follow the sound, and in the distance, she could make out the long, graceful shapes of an approaching herd of pegasi.

The pegasus knights had arrived, their steel lances glimmering orange in the sunset. And they were heading straight for her.

Chapter Text

Phila kept a hand over her face to keep the sun out of her eyes as she swept her gaze over the dry grasslands. To her left, she observed the pegasus knight rear her head back and take a long sniff. Phila did the same.

The desert air smelled arid and brittle, sharp like a rapier's tip, and Phila coughed. She glanced beside her, but the woman seemed unfazed by the scorched air, much to her irritation.

"Halt!"

Phila almost jumped at the sudden order. She yanked the reins back, and her pegasus whined in protest as she forced it to a stop.

The pegasus knight at her side groaned. "Captain, can we head back now? We've been on the hunt for a week already."

The woman at the front swerved her own pegasus to face them, tips of chocolate brown hair peeking out from under her helmet. "We may return once we have the traitor in custody, Helena," she said, her flat tone giving away no emotion. "Until then, if the wicked have no rest, then neither shall we."

Helena looked like she wanted to protest, but wisely kept her complaints to herself. "Very well."

Then, the pegasus knight captain turned her flat gaze to Phila. "Cadet Phila. Is there anything you can tell me about this place, just from observation?"

"Well..." Phila took a second to gather her thoughts, scanning over the landscape around her, from the yellow plains to the parched forest in the distance and the small village below her, bustling with life.

"This should be an empty patch of land, according to our maps," she said. "For some reason, this village isn't on them."

"And why might that be?"

"Either no one has ever left this village, or..."

"Or?"

"The residents want to keep it hidden, for one reason or another. Is that correct, Captain?"

"From what I've gathered, it is. A village of scoundrels and rapscallions." The pegasus knight captain narrowed her eyes.

Helena groaned. "Ugh. We won't have to round everyone up, will we?"

"Unfortunately not. As much as it pains me to admit, the three of us are hardly enough to bring these fiends to justice, and by the time I have a suitable force mobilized, there's no guarantee they will stay put. Our task here is to capture the traitor. Any more would be... unnecessary."

From the edge of her vision, something caught Phila's eye. "Captain?"

"Is there something you wish to say?"

"What did you say the traitor looked like?"

"Witnesses described her as a small woman with blue hair, possibly a traitor from the royal bloodline itself. Why do you need to know?"

Phila raised her lance and pointed to a tiny blue figure weaving through the tall grass, growing smaller by the second. "That wouldn't happen to be her, would it?" she said.

The pegasus knight captain followed the tip of her lance. She peered out in the distance for a minute, before she said, "I do believe it is."

Lucina's father had never run from a fight. In all the awe-inspiring and incredible tales she'd heard about him, not once had he ever turned tail and fled. Even when there was no hope to be had, he was always there at the front lines, his sword cutting his foes down. His father's friends claimed his boundless courage inspired people to beat the insurmountable odds.

As ashamed as she was to admit it, the moment she heard those wings flap, she dropped everything and ran.

It was the only sensible thing to do, she tried to tell herself. Battling the pegasus knights would be the last thing on any sane person's mind.

Cynthia's mother had been notorious as a monster on the battlefield. She had witnessed the woman wade thigh-deep into Risen bile, cutting swathes into the undead without a second of hesitation, writing ballads of a purple-stained heroine with a quill of silver wherever she went, and although she had never met her, she'd heard stories of the red-haired woman who was the epitome of grace carved into a vessel built for battle.

Even if their predecessors only held a fraction of their finesse, Lucina held no false hope that she could last even a second against them.

Lucina knew what her father would do. He would turn and stand his ground. Sword in hand, he would calm down the pegasus knights, and with his endless charisma, he would convince them they had nothing to fear, and that he was innocent. Relieved smiles would be shared, and they would leave her father with a warning, retreating to report to Aunt Emmeryn that the culprit had disappeared, and history would continue as normal.

She wasn't willing to take that chance, not with her father's future on the line.

As she sprinted over the dry grass, her gaze honed in on the forest just ahead. If she managed to slip past, the tangled growth and thick canopy would shield her from aerial attacks. The few hundred yards of the open field appeared daunting, but once she crossed it, she would be safe. Goal set, all Lucina had to do was reach it. Simple enough.

Years of battle-hardened instinct screamed of an incoming attack. Lucina dodged to the left, just as a streak of yellow ripped through the side of her coat.

In her place only moments before, a javelin embedded itself into the dirt. Lucina's feet threatened to trip her for the sudden stop. She barely managed to steer herself around it, but another javelin was already on its way.

Lucina threw herself to the side again. She felt the rush of air as the javelin tore over her, felt the cloud of dirt thrown up by the impact trickle down her back.

Someone cursed. Lucina was back on her feet much faster this time. As she pulled herself back together, she looked over her shoulder. The pointed end of a third javelin stared her down, growing closer by the second.

Lucina's legs pulled her forward, but something screamed for her to hold back. She lurched instead. The javelin flew past her stomach, straight through where she would have been a second later.

Lucina didn't wait for the pegasus knights to try their luck again. By the time they reached for another volley, Lucina took off for the forest again. She hadn't even taken five steps before the javelins came for her once more.

The first sailed over her head. Lucina twisted herself away to avoid hitting the haft, but a second forced her back. A third javelin planted itself into the dust to her other side before she could even consider it.

Lucina stumbled back. She looked around her, and she realized she was surrounded. Pegasus knights watched her from every side.

A shadow blocked out the sun. Lucina spun around. Wings spread wide, the pegasus knight reared up, and she thrust forward. Her lance swung down, aimed straight for Lucina's arm. She leaped to the side.

The cloak wrapped around her neck tightened, throwing her to the ground. Lucina gasped for breath, helpless to watch as the steel blade swept over her. She lifted her eyes.

Her cloak was pinned beneath the third javelin, the one she thought had missed. Desperately, she tugged at her cloak, but it refused to budge.

The first pegasus knight hadn't even left her sight before the second descended. Lucina gazed up at her attacker. Her eyes were dead set on her, so sure she couldn't move away.

At the last second, Lucina rolled away. The pegasus knight's steel lance stabbed down, carving a line into the dirt, then through Lucina's cloak, missing her hand by inches.

The force wrapped around her neck disappeared. Lucina caught a glimpse of the pegasus knight again, her eyes widening in surprise. The pegasus whined as its rider forced it to turn, but Lucina had already pushed herself off the ground. Her feet slipped out from under her. Lucina caught herself before she fell, and forced herself into a sprint.

In front of her, she saw the first pegasus knight give ground. The temptation to rush forward presented itself, but there was something strange about the way she swung her lance around.

She's signalling the others, Lucina realized.

It was then she noticed the pegasus knight charging in from her left. Lucina hurled herself back just as the pegasus knight sped past her, watching as the steel lance slashed through where she'd been seconds ago.

The first pegasus knight signaled again. She heard the telltale flap of wings, behind her this time. Lucina jumped away, and she felt the force of another missed stab breeze over her back.

As the pegasus knights reared back for another attack, again she found herself wishing for a weapon at her side. Unarmed and tired, Lucina saw no way to escape. And with the forest barely within reach, it seemed almost cruel. Unless...

An idea dawned on her. One her father would have seen from a mile away. Her eyes fell to the first pegasus knight, her lance raised in the air, then to the forest just behind her.

The pegasus knight's lance swung down. The pegasus knights to Lucina's sides lunged. Lucina twisted away, slipping past them as they crossed over her. Then she charged.

The most reaction she caught on the first pegasus knight's face was a raised eyebrow. Her pegasus lowered to meet her, its wings folding back. Her silver lance gleamed dangerously, almost as if to warn her.

Lucina's feet carried her forward. The pegasus knight raised her lance. Lucina leaned to the left. The silver lance followed her, before it sprung forth.

At the last second, Lucina turned and threw herself beneath the pegasus's hooves. It gave a startled cry, flaring its wings in fright. The pegasus knight shouted and pulled at the reins, but by the time she brought it back under control, Lucina was already behind her, disappearing into the trees.

Twigs snapped and leaves crunched as she stumbled through the foliage. Her foot caught on a root, and she nearly tripped. Blind desperation was what caused her to grab onto a nearby branch. It snapped under her weight, but by then, she was already pressing onward.

Ferns slapped against her face, and the encroaching darkness hid a few more protrusions from her sight. Several times, she almost lost her balance, each fall spiking her already furious heart rate. All that mattered was putting as much distance between her and those pegasus knights.

At last, when her lungs could take no more, and her heart screamed for rest, Lucina let herself fall limp against the sturdy trunk of a tree. As she took in great gulps of air, her limbs burning now that the adrenaline had drained away, Lucina eyed her torn cloak. She traced a finger over the fringed edge, her expression mournful. Though it may have been a piece of cloth, it was a piece of cloth that had seen her through struggles, both present, and future. It hadn't been necessary to discard, not like her badge, and yet it had given its life for her escape.

Her eyes wandered to the edge of the forest. To her relief, the two pegasus knights didn't dare enter, not with all the trees in the way. Her cloak's sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

Had it?

Wait. Two pegasus knights? Lucina's heart stopped. Where did the third–

A crash snapped her from her thoughts. Lucina spun around, eyes wide. Leaves fell to the ground, shredded into bits, and a white blur descended through the treetops.

Lucina barely had time to cry out before a silver lance embedded itself into her leg. Her hands fell to the shaft. Her fingers wrapped around it. Lucina didn't even have the chance to tug on it before the pegasus knight slammed a leg into her chest.

Lucina threw out her arms, but her weight dragged her down. The back of her head exploded in pain. Her vision swam.

And darkness claimed her.

Robin's mother always told him that, with a mind as brilliant as his, no corner of the world would remain unknown to him. That no mystery would remain unsolved to him.

No mystery except that of his father.

No matter how much he tried to figure it out, he could not figure anything about the man. He'd asked his mother if he'd died in a battle, or if he was a traveling merchant off to sell his wares, but any answers he received from her led only to more questions. The other townsfolk had never even heard of the man, so they were no help either.

All he knew so far was that, firstly, his father had white hair because that's how babies worked, wasn't it? And secondly, there was something that kept his father away from home.

I bet father would be more than happy to help me find my rat, Robin thought as he scoured the bushes.

Trees loomed overhead, casting deep shadows over the forest floor. Peeking through the leaves he could still see his home in the distance, so tiny it could probably fit in his hand. All around him, he could hear the crickets warm up as they prepared to sing.

Robin tuned them out. He was a boy on a mission, and no pretty insects would steer him from his path.

Cupping his mouth, Robin turned to the sky and yelled, "Come out, come out wherever you are!"

Somewhere to his left, a few leaves rustled. Robin's head snapped onto it. Was that his rat he heard?

The wooden snap that followed told him it wasn't. His rat was hardly heavy enough to break twigs. Maybe it was some kind of predator?

Just to be safe, Robin turned the other way, and he pushed past a low-hanging branch, pressing on with his search.

"Mister Scurries," he called again, "Where are you?"

Robin ducked under another branch, only to run face-first into a wall of purple. He looked up. Two red eyes stared back.

For a second, he was afraid.

"Child. What business do you have here?"

Hearing his voice, though, Robin realized that this was a person, not the monster under his bed, and his fear fell back.

"Oh! I'm searching for my rat," Robin said, stepping back. "His name is Mister Scurries. Have you seen him?"

Now that he was not so close, Robin took a moment to look at the man. The first thing he noticed was that the robes draped over his thin, stick-like body were the same color as his mother's tablecloth. It even had those strange, sleeve-like appendages on the sides, just like his mother's tablecloth which, now that he thought about it, might have been actual sleeves. His face was narrow like an arrowhead, and his smile curled in all the strangest places that made Robin feel like he was wearing another skin.

"Child?" Another man appeared behind the first, wearing the same robes like they were twins. He licked his lips, before he said, "Shall I take it upon myself to... take care of this one, milord?"

"Lay a hand on him and I'll take care of you!" The man's smile warped in an instant. The change was so sudden, Robin almost jumped.

When he turned back to Robin, the smile was back, like nothing ever happened. "Now tell me, what is this rat we're hunting for look like? Perhaps I can be of assistance?"

"Really?" Robin's face lit up in excitement. He was so lucky to have met such a nice man! If he helped him look for his rat, there wasn't anything to worry about. "Well, he's very long like a ferret, but he's different because he's much cuter than a ferret. He's also very thin because he's always hungry. You wouldn't have happened to see any berry bushes close by, have you? Because he might be there."

"A pity," the man said, and he cupped his chin. "I've not seen any berry bushes. I do, however, have an inkling where your 'rat' may be hiding."

"Where?"

The man looked back at his twin. For some reason, he chuckled. Robin had the sinking feeling that he didn't really know where his rat was, and that something was wrong. But what?

"Follow us, child. Follow us, and witness something far beyond anything a pathetic rat could do."

Validar's cloak billowed behind him as he stepped past his son. Leaves crunched underfoot like a crashing river, the Grimleal melting out of the shadows one by one.

His hand glowed purple, and as he set his eyes on the small town visible just beyond the trees, for the first time in months, he smiled.

Rat hunting indeed.

Chapter Text

Stood atop a hill, Validar watched the village burn. A symphony of screams and wailing reached his ears, and a breeze carried the scent of smoke over the dry field. He hummed, a pleased smile tugging at his lips.

As he had expected, his Plegian forces were swift to sweep through the village, exterminating all who stood in their path. What little resistance the band of smugglers, convicts, and swindlers could offer was nothing compared to the might of his soldiers, and when combined with his flawless strategy? Well, safe to say, they stood no chance.

Any second now, his men would return, reporting that they'd eradicated the last survivors. Not a single man, woman, or child was to be left alive, not after all the trouble they'd caused him by hiding her in their midst. It was only fair.

"Mother! Mother, help me!"

And speak of the devil. Validar's lips peeled back, revealing just a bit of the grin he held within. He heard a thud behind him, then a hiss. He didn't need to turn around to know she was behind him.

He turned anyway, if only so she could see his victorious smile. Aria knelt before him, her hands tied behind her, her dark hair damp with sweat, her clothes riddled with gashes and stained with red as she took in one ragged breath after another. She looked like a disobedient servant whipped into submission.

Her brown eyes held none of the same weariness. They practically simmered, boiling water beneath a lid, conveying her contempt far better than any words ever could. Even on her knees, she was ever the tireless woman he had known her as.

Validar lifted his gaze from her, and his eyes fell on the guard behind her.

"You may leave us alone," Validar commanded.

"As you command."

Validar noted the unease set on the man's jaw, and his eyes narrowed. As he turned to leave, Validar committed the shape of his face, the way he spurred his legs into action, the way his eyes flickered back to him, all to memory. His unease conveyed weak loyalty, something that would have to be rooted out one way or another.

As the guard disappeared, Validar kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. Not once did he stop to acknowledge the woman in front of him, even as he strode past her. Aria, on the other hand, could never seem to keep her eyes off him, as if she aimed to blast him full of dark magic.

The foolish woman.

"The sunset," he said, deciding he'd let the silence hang for too long. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"I'm sure it's not as beautiful as you believe it to be," Aria snapped.

Validar chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that. You are simply blind to the true scale of its greatness."

"It's not that. It might be every bit as incredible as you claim it to be. Only your presence drains any beauty in that, and I'd prefer if I didn't have to stare at an ugly shriveled husk in my last moments."

The remark passed him by without so much a twitch. Why would it? They were but the desperate words of someone clinging onto what little life remained.

"How galling," Validar said. "To think you used to have such a way with words. Perhaps then your dying breath would not be such a waste."

The grass crunched underfoot as he finally faced her. Her gaze was turned the other way, her face glowing in the soft light of the evening.

"Your magic abilities have diminished as well. Look at you, battered and bruised before your better. A remnant of the powerful woman I was proud to have by my side all those years ago." He raised his hand to the back of her head, a sickly purple hue emanating from within. "How far the mighty have fallen indeed. Motherhood has made you weak."

"A remnant I may be, but at least I have the one thing you're after."

Aria's words made him pause. "Which is?" Validar asked, though he knew what she would say.

"My son."

"You had him. You stole him. I've reclaimed what is mine."

"Have you?" Aria laughed dryly. Validar's eyes narrowed. He should have ended this farce before it even had a chance to begin. Yet perhaps the ramblings of the woman before him would prove entertaining.

The glint in her eyes said she was far from done. "I've spent every day of his life with him. Taking care of him, feeding him."

"Unimportant details, the weakness of man."

"That may be, but if you kill me, the only thing he'll learn is to despise you."

"The vessel need not be willing for the ritual to be successful."

"Robin is but a child. His body is frail, his magical prowess next to none. Would you dare disrespect your lord with such a weak body?"

Validar stepped closer and clenched his fist, the dark magic gathered between his fingertips begging for release. "The only redeeming quality of mortal men is that they strengthen with age. I'd have thought such a rudimentary fact would not have slipped your mind, but you are far beyond the woman worthy of your honor."

All it would take would be for him to raise his hand and unleash it. The dark energy would sear through her body, straight through flesh, leaving dark, purple trails behind. A terrified expression frozen on her face, finally broken under sheer force.

"Honor is the last thing I'd call it," Aria spat. "Robin may grow stronger in body, but he will also grow stronger in mind. As he matures, that mind will grow to stand against you, perhaps even strong enough to stand against the Fell Dragon."

"Then your efforts shall be for naught. I–"

"You'll what, brainwash him?" Even bound as she was, Aria managed to twist her body to face him, a defiant snarl marring her beautiful face. "I've stood at your right hand before. I know you haven't finished that spell, and I know it is impossible to cast without decimating the target's mind. And you wouldn't want that, would you? No, nothing less than perfection for that damned lizard."

A face came to mind. A girl. Dark skin, white hair. Her lips pulled up in an utterly pitiful look of affection.

He knelt, meeting Aria's burning gaze at an even level. His hand reached up to cup her face, a radiant shade of pink in the remaining sunlight. She was too tired to pull away.

"My everlasting flame," he cooed. "You're such a... a perceptive, cunning, beautiful..."

A burst of dark magic tore from his hands, gushing out in a torrent of blistering heat.

"Idiot."

The body hit the grass with a thud. Validar stood over it, smoke trailing from his hand, his face twisted into a smile. Reaching down, he blasted it with a second burst of magic, then a third, until all that remained could barely be called human.

Strangely enough, staring down at what could only be described as ash, Validar reflected that it hadn't been as satisfying as he'd thought.

Still, he thought as he turned his back to the flames in the distance, she has a point. That whelp was a lucky exception. It was a miracle she got through almost completely unscathed.

As he made his way back to the Plegians waiting for him below, Validar heard the boy's cries for his mother grow louder. His voice was all so grating on his ears, and when the boy froze the second he saw him, Validar let a sneer show on his face.

Strong willed, huh? He calls for his mother like any other child. I suppose I'll have to invest a little more in this one.

"Come, boy," he said. "Let's head home."

"Did you see that? Did you see that? I saved you, Uncle Robin!"

"That you did, Luci."

Lucina paused, an elixir bottle held in her hands, and her face fell into an expression with all the seriousness a six-year-old girl could muster. "What did I save you from, anyway?" she asked.

Robin peeked at her from around the pile of weapons in his arms. "Well, you saved me from having to clean elixir off the floor, for one."

"Oh!" Lucina's face brightened. "Then... can I have something too? Cause whenever the hero saves the princess, he always gets something back to show her 'preciation."

"Then what do you want, my little knight in shining armor?" Robin said. "Would you like some of the dragon's gold? Or maybe a kiss?"

Lucina pouted. "No! I want a caramel."

"A caramel?" Uncle Robin craned his head over the towering metal mass. "Well, as luck would have it, I have some in my pocket."

"Then give it!" After a moment's pause, she added, "Please?"

"Not when my hands are full."

"But when you put those down?"

"Then I'll give it to you."

Lucina's lips tugged up into a grin. "Okay then! Let's go!"

She spun on her heel and started down the hall. Behind her, Uncle Robin cleared his throat, and when she stopped to look at him, he smiled.

"Luci. I'm headed the other way."

"Oh. Right!"

Lucina sprinted after Uncle Robin, her elixir bottle leading the way. With Robin in tow, she ran through the halls of Ylisstol Castle, turning corners and ducking through confused maids and butlers until she found herself running out of steam.

"Uncle... huff... Robin?" she said, stopping to catch her breath. "Where are we going? This... huff... isn't where we keep all the swords."

"You're right," he replied. "That's because these are special weapons that need to go somewhere else."

Shifting the weight in his arms, he turned so that she could look at one of the weapons: a steel lance. Or, at least it looked like a steel lance, but when Lucina looked closer, she noticed the tip was covered in a faint yellow glow.

"Wow! That's... huff... so cool!" she said.

"Isn't it?" Robin grinned, and he lifted the pile of weapons back up. "Would you like to stop for a bit?"

"No! I can... huff... I can keep going!"

"Luci, you shouldn't have to push yourself, especially not for something as trivial as this. Please, sit down."

"But–"

"No buts. Sit."

Lucina wanted to argue further. Frustration tickled her lips, but with a huff, she let it go. Lucina plopped herself down at the foot of a great big tree.

And that's when she noticed that there was a great big tree behind her.

"Hey! When did this tree appear?"

Laughter bubbled behind Uncle Robin's smile. "It's been here before you were born. Before your father was born, even."

"Really? It must be super old, then!"

"It is." Uncle Robin's eyes trailed up the tree, from the roots to the branches at the top reaching for the sky. "Your father claims that your Aunt Emmeryn often sat beneath this very tree whenever she was troubled."

"Wow!" Lucina patted down the grass around the tree, an expression of awe on her face as if the ground had turned to gold. When she looked back up at Robin, her eyes sparkled. "Uncle Robin? What was Aunt Emmeryn like? Father has told me a lot, but I want to hear what you know of her as well."

"I see." Uncle Robin laughed, this time sounding a little more nervous. "Well, I didn't know her for long, so I can't say much." When he noticed Lucina's face fall, he quickly added, "That's not to say I know nothing about her!"

"What can you tell me, then?" Lucina asked.

"If there was one thing I could say about her, your Aunt Emmeryn was loved by her people. Everyone in Ylisse knew of her boundless patience and kindness. No matter how much someone wronged her, she always found it in herself to forgive."

"Aw. That's boring."

"I'd disagree." At Lucina's confused expression, he said, "What would you do if someone hit you in the face?"

"I'd punch them back!" Lucina said proudly.

"Then could you imagine not being able to punch them back, no matter how hard you wanted to? That's what Emmeryn had to do every time anyone did anything bad to her."

"What? Why?"

Robin knelt down to meet Lucina, eye to eye. "Because as much as people love her now, when Emmeryn started her rule, the kingdom of Ylisse was falling apart. She needed to prove to her people that she was strong, or we would have no more castle. So when people started trying to attack her, she could either punch back, or she could refuse to, no matter how much people tried to get her to punch back."

Lucina frowned. "Wouldn't it be easier to just punch back?"

"It would. Which was why she didn't."

Lucina's eyes widened, and realization began to set in. She opened her mouth to speak when, to her left, Lucina heard something scratch against the stone.

She blinked, and suddenly, she realized how blurry everything was. Lucina tried to stand, but all she felt was air beneath her feet. In her ears, the scratching disappeared, replaced by a faint ringing.

She blinked again. And the world flooded back to her.

The world smelled like a drenched rag. As what little light in the room filtered in through her bleary eyes, the back of her head pulsed painfully. Lucina reached up to rub the back of her head, combing her fingers through strands of her straight blue hair until the pain began to fade.

Then everything came rushing back to her.

Lucina jerked back, eyes wide, only for her head to slam into the stone wall behind her. The pain at the back of her head surged, and her hands found their way around her skull as she groaned.

She slid back against the wall, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. The last thing she remembered was having her face slammed into the dirt. As she tried to get the ringing in her head to fade, she noted with a small degree of disappointment that this was the second time she'd fallen unconscious.

I hope this doesn't become a running theme, she thought. How can I save my father if I spend half my time lying dazed in a gutter?

Aside from the earth-shattering headache she was currently nursing and the nasty gash in her leg, the pegasus knights seemed to have left her unharmed. From the bandage wrapped around her thigh, someone at least had the courtesy of tending to her wounds, thank Naga for the small mercies. Without a nice lady by her side to tell her where she was, though, she was a little more helpless than she'd like to admit.

Her stomach growled, and she was reminded of the supper she never had.

Staving off her growing irritation, Lucina peered through the iron bars cut into her cell door, just in time to catch a familiar flash of red.

Aunt Cordelia? That was her first thought, one that she shook off a second later. If Robin was but a child, that meant that Aunt Cordelia was too, and she would at least hope a child would have no place in such a filthy place.

Curious, Lucina made her way over to the door. Her fingers grasped the bars, and she peeked outside. Again, she heard the faint scratching sound, the same sound that had awoken her, and as she glanced down the hall, she found the source to be a straw broom sweeping over the floor. Hunched over it was a man, his flaming red hair standing out against the ratty clothes on his back.

He must be a servant, Lucina surmised. He probably knows nothing of value, so trying to pry answers from him won't be worth my time. She paused. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask where am I, could it?

Pulling herself up to stand a little straighter, Lucina cleared her throat. "Excuse me, sir. Do you know where we are?"

"You're in Ylisstol Castle," the servant replied, not even bothering to turn around. "The dungeons, if you want to be a bit more precise."

"The dungeon?" Lucina's lips pulled down, and her eyes fell to the floor, covered in dirt and grime. "No, that can't be right. Ylisstol Castle doesn't have a dungeon."

That got the man to stop. Turning to look at her over his shoulder, he said, "Does it now?"

Lucina winced. "I mean, I've never heard of a dungeon in Ylisstol Castle. Surely you must be mistaken."

"Not many people know about this place, so you wouldn't be the first to deny it." The man sighed. "These cells don't see much recent use, anyway. Exalt Alabaster was not a man to let an issue stand idle, and he was quick to sort through his work. Either he found you innocent within a day and set you free, or he didn't, in which case..." The man drew his thumb over his neck, and Lucina shivered at the implication.

"Whatever his verdict may be, no one ever spent more than a day in here, so there were many who gave this place much mind." Then the man's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this, but he is no longer with us. Your fate is not in his hands, but the hands of his daughter."

"Well, that's a relief," Lucina muttered.

She must not have been quiet enough, for the man lifted his head in her direction. "And what makes you say that?"

"From what you tell me, this 'Exalt Alabaster' is hardly a sound judge. His daughter will be more forgiving, I hope."

"Yes, yes." The man's mouth stretched into a thin line. "But if you're wrong–if the girl is anything like her father–I suppose you won't live long enough after that to worry about it, would you?"

Lucina's stomach lurched, horrified at the thought. Her Aunt Emmeryn, sentencing her to death? That was absurd!

"No, she's not like that!" When his suspicious glare landed on her, she winced again. "At least, that's what I hear."

The man stared at her long and hard. Every second she spent under his blazing red eyes, she could feel another bead of sweat break out, until finally, he broke eye contact with the spin of his heel.

"I wouldn't count on it," he said.

And with that, he strode out of sight, his shoes clicking loudly against the stone floor. As Lucina watched his shadow vanish, her legs gave out, and she slid against the door. Her hands flew to her neck, and she suddenly felt a little less secure about its place on her shoulders.

That servant is wrong, she told herself. Aunt Em would never order an execution. She has to prove her strength to keep Ylisse together. She won't punch back. Right?

Chapter Text

Knelt before Emmeryn, her arms bound by chains behind her back, Lucina was suddenly a lot less sure. There was nothing in her face, from her narrowed eyes looking down upon her from the Exalt's throne to her mouth set in a flat line, that looked forgiving.

For a moment, Lucina feared her father might have been mistaken. But surely that couldn't have been the case; Emmeryn was his sister, was she not?

"What is your name, girl?"

A raspy voice echoed over the vast chamber, snapping her out of her thoughts. Lucina glanced over at the speaker, a shriveled-looking man with a scowl as smooth as gravel and eyes that could never seem to stay in one place, and it was then that she noticed how empty the room was.

Aside from her and Emmeryn, who she assumed was her advisor, the two guards stationed beside her, the pegasus knight captain, and the blond-haired man standing off to the side, no one else was there. Lucina had never been to a sentencing before. With the Fell Dragon hanging overhead, there were bigger things to worry about.

Surely, though, they couldn't have been this small, this lonely? Just two people staring each other down as the banners bearing the Brand of the Exalt billowed overhead, staring down at them like eyes, waiting in silence for the fate of one to be decided.

One of her guards kicked her side. Hard. Lucina hissed, and she glared up at him.

"Answer the question, if you are able," Emmeryn's advisor said again.

Lucina's eyes fell to the floor. "Marth. You may call me Marth."

"She's got the hair down, I'd say," the blond man mumbled. No one paid him any heed.

"Marth. You come before our most gracious Exalt accused of betrayal to the Halidom of Ylisse and the murder of former Exalt Alabaster. Do you dispute these claims?"

Betrayal? A frown creased Lucina's brow as she wracked her mind, before she remembered that murdering the former Exalt probably counted as betrayal.

"I do. Whoever you're looking for, it's not me."

"Evidence seems to point to the opposite." Even as she faced away, she could hear the sneer in his voice. "Captain Madeline has received reports of you running the Exalt through in Northern Plegia, before you abandoned the rest of your comrades only minutes later." The advisor turned to Emmeryn. "What does her Grace think of it?"

Lucina finally lifted her gaze off the floor to look at Emmeryn. This time, Emmeryn looked away. Lucina held her breath. She could feel the gaze of everyone else on the room fixed on her, but she held her gaze to Emmeryn. What would she say? She wouldn't order her execution.

She couldn't.

"Execution," Emmeryn whispered. "Execute her for her crimes against the halidom."

Execute her. Execute her. Execute her.

The words echoed in Emmeryn's ears, even long after they'd left her mouth. Some of the literature Tomas assigned to her spoke of characters "haunted by the ghosts of their past". She'd never understood it before, but perhaps this was what it was like?

Sighing, Emmeryn leaned back and let the rough bark of the tree behind her press into her skin as she let her gaze roam to the leaves above. This... all of this–being the Exalt, sentencing a woman to her death, it all felt so wrong. Her father should've been the one to make that decision. Her father should have been here with her, here to tell her what to do, which decisions were the right ones and which were the wrong ones. He should be sitting by her side, an arm draped over her shoulder, quietly assuring her that she wouldn't bring the halidom to ruin.

But he was dead.

All she could do was make sure his killer was brought to justice.

It doesn't matter what I think of it, she thought. As long as that woman still lives, Chrom and Lissa would never be safe. And with father gone, I can't let anything happen to them. So this is the best course of action. Isn't it?

"Your Grace. Is there anything I may assist you with?"

Emmeryn glanced up. The pegasus knight captain, Captain Madeline, she reminded herself, stared down at her, her face as flat as it always was, yet a tinge of worry lay beneath her voice.

"I... I'm fine," Emmeryn said, forcing herself to look away.

"Truly?"

"Yes."

Captain Madeline tilted her head. "Do you not have somewhere to be? I saw you vacate the audience chamber in quite the hurry, and I became quite concerned when no one could seem to find you after."

"I did not get much sleep last night," Emmeryn replied. "I wanted to find somewhere to rest."

"Why did you not go to your bedroom, then?"

"I didn't want anyone to bother me."

"Ah." Captain Madeline's lips twisted into a frown. "If I may speak out of line, I'd like you to tell someone before you vanish like that."

"Did I worry people that much?"

Captain Madeline hummed, raising her eyes to the sky, before she said, "It's not that. You are the Exalt now, whether you like it or otherwise. Everyone will be looking to you for strength, and as our Exalt, you need to be there for your people."

Emmeryn squeezed her eyes shut, her lips pulling into a scowl away from the pegasus knight captain. "Please. I want to be left alone."

"I shall see to it that you are undisturbed." When she noticed Emmeryn giving her a sideways look, her eyes widened. "Oh. You want me to leave you alone?" Captain Madeline saluted her. "Very well. I leave you to your dilly-dallying."

Emmeryn heard the grass rustle as she turned to leave, took a step back, then stopped.

"Your Grace!" Tomas said, stepping into view. "There you are! I've been..." His eyes narrowed as soon as he caught sight of the pegasus knight captain. "What are you doing here?"

"Her Grace wishes to be left alone."

"I don't recall asking for your input. And take that helmet off. It is rude to keep it on in the presence of her Grace."

"I don't mind–" Emmeryn began, but Captain Madeline was already tearing off her helmet, spilling her chocolate locks over her shoulders.

"Happy?" she said.

Tomas ignored her, instead fixing his gaze on Emmeryn. "Your Grace, we have much to discuss. What do you say for a cup of tea?"

"You wished to be alone, did you not?" Captain Madeline said, turning to Emmeryn. "I will escort him away, should you command it."

"Who are you to speak for her Grace?"

With each word, Emmeryn shrunk further back against the tree. The both of them were so loud, so demanding, rattling around her already jumbled head. The two of them were loud. Her thoughts were louder.

But Tomas, at least, was a familiar face, wasn't he?

"Tea..." She swallowed. "I'd like tea."

Tomas gave Captain Madeline a smug look, but she didn't seem fazed in the slightest. "Servant!" he said, and he turned to the man slipping in through the door. "Fetch me two cups and a pot of tea."

"Very well." The servant bowed in his direction, before he spun around and disappeared back inside.

"Now, there was something I noticed during the sentencing, something I thought you might want to talk about."

"Really?" Emmeryn looked up. For a moment, she allowed a flicker of hope to take root in her chest, a flicker that withered and died the second she saw the proud smile on his face.

"I must say, you maintained excellent form through it all, just like I always knew you would."

"Was that what it was?"

"Of course! You were the perfect picture of grace, as anyone would expect from the Exalt."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Would you think this calls for celebration?" Tomas said, his wrinkled face twisting into a grin. "That traitor no longer possesses a threat to you. You've not even spent a week on the throne, and your wisdom has already rid the halidom of a potential menace. I say we discuss the halidom's affairs over tea."

"I don't think–"

"Or, if you don't prefer tea, I can call for the bakery to whip up a cake."

"Hierophant, you are overstepping your bounds."

"Not as much as you've been overstepping yours," Tomas hissed.

"Am I, now?" Captain Madeline raised an eyebrow. "You act amicably enough to her Grace, as if you were the chamberlain herself."

"Maybe I am."

"I was not aware the chamberlain had relinquished her position to you."

"She does not need to, not if–" Tomas cut himself off with a long exhale. "Your Grace, shall we take our discussion elsewhere?"

"I should hope not. Can you not see how disturbed she is?" Her armor rustled as Captain Madeline knelt beside Emmeryn, and her hand pressed down on her shoulder. "What is the problem?"

"Nothing."

"It hardly seems to be nothing."

"I said it's nothing," Emmeryn said, firmer this time.

The pegasus knight captain opened her mouth, but whatever she was about to say, Emmeryn wouldn't hear it. She brushed off her hand as she rose to her feet. Tomas called her name as she turned and ran, and she almost stopped. For a moment, she considered going back. The red-haired servant that emerged from the door, a teapot atop a tray in hand, shook the thought from her head, and she pushed past him before he could move to stop her.

There were so many decisions to make, and the world wouldn't wait for her to pick one. If this was how being the Exalt would go, she didn't want it. She wanted her father back.

She couldn't be strong. Not without her father.

Chrom knew something was wrong when Lissa suddenly stopped, looking very confused. If he was being honest, he was confused too.

One second, they were running through the halls playing 'Knights and Bandits', the next, they were standing in front of an open door, leading downstairs into the darkness.

"What is this place?" he said, looking over every inch of it. He glanced back at Lissa, but she didn't have any answers for him, blinking up at him innocently.

He had passed this door a million times before, on his way to watch the knights in the courtyard, but never had he thought about what lay beyond it. To have it open was so exciting.

This castle was his home. He wanted to know where all the doors lead, where all the knights went. It was nice to know someone cared, Nan had always told him, and he cared enough to see what could be hiding in the dark.

"We should go down there!" he said, and he made to step forward.

A tug on his sleeve stopped him. He looked down, and he found Lissa hiding behind him.

"Don't wanna," she said.

Chrom huffed. "Are you scared?"

Lissa nodded.

"Then I'll protect you!" He tried to step forward again, but she pulled him back.

"Nan says... don't go."

"Why not?"

"Monsters."

Chrom's smile wavered. She had him there. If it wasn't Emmeryn scaring out the monsters for them, it was Nan, and if it wasn't either of them, Father would do it.

Then, a thought popped into his head. "Then I'll scare them away before they can get to you!" he said, grinning.

Before she could stop him, he'd already cupped his hands around his mouth, took a deep breath, and yelled: "I'm coming down now! I hope no monsters come out to get me!"

His voice echoed back to him, and for a moment, he was disappointed that was all there was. Just as he was starting to think there was nothing but darkness there, he heard something reply.

"Who's there?" The voice was small, like it was super far away, so the stairs must have been long.

Beside him, Lissa gasped. That only convinced him to push further. "Aha! I knew you were there, darkness monster!"

"Monster? I'm not a..." The monster trailed off. Chrom heard metal rustling, before the monster said, "Where are you?"

"Up here! In the light!"

There was a pause. "You are talking to me, right?"

"Of course! Who else would I talk to?" Then Chrom had a thought, and he frowned. "Are there any more monsters with you?"

This time, the monster sighed. "Ah. No, it's just me."

"Then... no one wants you here. Shoo. Go eat someone else."

"I don't know if I can, but I'll try."

Chrom heard the monster's big claws drag over the stone floor. He'd done everyone else a service, getting a monster out from beneath the castle, and as he listened to it leave, he stood at the doorway, feeling proud of himself. That is, until Lissa tugged at his sleeve again.

"What is it?" he said, turning to her.

"Where is it gonna go?"

In an instant, the feeling of pride vanished. As far as he knew, this door was the only way down, and if the monster was leaving, that meant...

"Wait!" he yelled. "Stay there!"

"Eh?"

"I'll get you one of my friends if you don't come up! He's tastier than me, I promise!"

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't! Just stay there!" Before the monster could say anything else, Chrom grabbed hold of Lissa's hand, and he pulled her away. His heart hammered in his chest, but his lips were pulled into a big smile. He didn't expect something like this to be so exciting.

As the dark doorway grew smaller behind them, Lissa said, "Chrom? What's a... friend?"

"Some kind of page, I think? Now come on, let's get out of here!" Chrom dragged them around the corner, taking one last look over his shoulder to make sure the monster hadn't crawled out. It hadn't, which meant it believed him. Lying was bad, but lying to monsters didn't count. Probably.

Wait until Emmeryn heard about the monster below the castle!

Chapter Text

The moon was staring at her.

It was hard not to think that, not when the only window she'd had gave her a faceful of moonlight as she lay on the burlap sheet draped over the stone floor. She could have moved anytime she wanted, she supposed, but if she moved a little to the right, the floor would poke into her back, and if she moved to the left, her chains would begin to chafe.

So she stayed there. Hoping sleep would claim her, if only to settle the thoughts racing about her head.

She had no such luck.

Only hours ago, clouds had covered the sky, the gentle tittering of rainfall had reverberating throughout her room like a thousand tiny soldiers were marching through the city's streets, but that had long since passed. Now, there were no clouds to shield her from the moon's condemning silver gaze. The rain had found its way to her cell window as well, and the rhythmic sound of water dripping down from the street only worked to keep sleep barely out of her reach.

The burlap sheet did little to make the cobblestone any more comfortable, and the chill imbued into the floor slipped past it and soaked into her skin. Already the back of her head was beginning to throb. She was sure she could feel something crawl up her side, but when she glanced down, she couldn't make anything out in the dark.

As the minutes flew by, and she felt sleep come no closer than it had before, her mind began to wander. Thoughts began to surface in her head, ones she'd have rather left untouched.

Lucina tried to shift herself into a more comfortable position. A sharp jab at her side was her reward, and as she flinched back, she reached over to push the protruding object away.

Her hands closed around something sharp. She hissed, and as she swerved her head around to get a good look at whatever it was, she found her own eyes staring back at her on the metal blade of a knife.

She frowned. What would a knife be doing down here? Her eyes trailed down to the blade, and she noticed that the handle was missing. A passerby must have thrown it into the cell window before her arrival, as if it were nothing more than rubbish. It was still sharp too, given how easily it had pricked her fingers, and it baffled Lucina how someone could have thrown something like this away.

In her time, any weapon would have been put through full use before it was discarded.

Again, she glanced up at the cell window, and a small part of her mind wondered, Is that all I am right now? A life to be discarded like rubbish? She shook her head a moment later. No, that can't be it. Emmeryn was not someone to sentence someone's death so callously.

As much as she would have preferred to steer clear of it, the thought brought her back to her own execution.

Emmeryn wasn't like this. Everyone she'd known said she'd never hurt a soul, so to go far as to sentence her to execution? That was punishment saved for only the truly evil people, like Walhart and Gangrel. What had she done to warrant such a punishment?

No, this wasn't what Emmeryn would have wanted. The Emmeryn of her time, anyway.

Something must have gone wrong.

Perhaps this was a result of her action. No, that couldn't have been it. She'd only been here for... three days now? Four days, at most. There was no way she could have messed up the timeline that badly. No chance at all.

But if it wasn't her, what was it? Her brows furrowed in thought, her mind combing through all the possibilities she could think of. With how tired she was, it wasn't long before her drifting lost its focus, and suddenly, she found her mind completely blank.

A sigh escaped her lips. She would have to dwell upon it at a later date, and as she let the knife fall back to her side, she stared up at the moon, silently begging for it to let sleep drag her into the morning.

A morning closer to my execution, her brain supplied helpfully.

Her stomach clenched. She sat up, suddenly queasy. Death was nothing she hadn't faced before, nothing she hadn't overcome time and time again. So then why was this any different?

Maybe it was because she now faced death at the hands of family? Yes, that had to be it. It must be. Emmeryn, she was someone her father had loved dearly. Lucina had to save her from Gangrel's assassins when the war came around, but if she let things continue as they were...

She had to get out of here. She'd been given a chance to save her father. All her efforts would be for nothing if she died here.

Her fingers closed around the knife in her hands, even as the metal bit into her skin. If she wasn't going to sleep, she may as well make good use of her time.

Besides, she was just one girl. No one would miss her if she disappeared. The timeline would be better off without her.

Dressed in a pale yellow nightgown, one assured looked as beautiful as the buttercups in the garden, she'd been assured, Emmeryn came to a stop before the door to Chrom and Lissa's room. Beneath it, she could still see the shadows move around in the light. She tried to smile, despite the terrible thoughts storming in her, but she didn't think it would be convincing enough.

It had to, though. They would worry if they saw her worried. Besides, they didn't need to know about this, not with their father's killer locked up in the castle's dungeon.

She reached for the door, stopping when she heard voices through the wood.

"Could you tell us another story, Nan?" Though his voice was muffled, Emmeryn could still tell it was Chrom's.

"That was the last one in this book."

Nan? That was what they called their old caretaker, wasn't it?

Emmeryn relaxed, then frowned. She had no reason not to relax in her own home, surely.

As she reached for the door handle, she heard Lissa say, "I want another."

"Yeah! Can you make one? Please? Father did it all the time!" Chrom added.

"It's long past sunset," Nan replied. "Do you think you could sleep without another story?"

"Yeah, but–"

Silence cast over the room the moment Emmeryn pushed the door open. Words formed in her throat, only to die before they could reach her mouth as she found herself face to face with someone... different.

The woman before her couldn't have been much older than the youngest pegasus knights. Her mousey brown hair and strict expression made her look even older, but even then Emmeryn thought she looked far too young to be the old woman Emmeryn was used to seeing.

The way she raised her eyebrow was oddly similar, however, and it was that which let Emmeryn find her words again.

"Who are–"

"I'm the caretaker's assistant," the woman replied.

"The caretaker has an assistant?"

"Of course. She came down with an illness, so she had to rest today." The woman's eyes narrowed. "That is still allowed, am I wrong?"

"Ah... I... I'd think so?" Emmeryn's eyes strayed to her right. Chrom waved back at her, and she suddenly remembered what she was about to say before.

"Chrom. You're not troubling your caretaker, I hope."

Chrom shook his head. "Nuh-uh. She was just reading us a story!"

Emmeryn looked to Nan for confirmation. "Your brother has been of no trouble," she said. "I was just about to tuck them in."

"There's no need. I can do the rest," Emmeryn said.

"As you wish, your Grace," Nan replied.

She bowed her head and stepped past Emmeryn. The door closed behind her with a click, and then, they were alone.

"Your Grace?" Chrom asked the second Nan was gone. "I thought people only called father that."

Emmeryn winced. She'd hoped she wouldn't have to tell them until she was ready, but, as it had been so often, the world had other ideas. She just couldn't have her way, could she?

With a sigh, Emmeryn said, "They did."

"So why are they calling you that? You're not father." Chrom tilted his head. "I think."

"No. No, I am not. They..." Emmeryn bit her lip before the truth could come tumbling out. Her father was dead. There was nothing to do about it now. It hurt just thinking about it.

But to lay that hurt on them as well? She wasn't cruel enough to do that.

"The other nobles, that is, decided that father has been gone for too long, and that until he returns, I shall rule in his stead."

"Really? That's so cool!" Chrom's eyes lit up, and Emmeryn allowed herself to smile.

"Am I gonna have to call you Grace too?" Lissa asked.

"No, Lissa," Emmeryn said, and she shook her head. "I still want to be Em to you two. Please."

Everyone around her was so different, now that she was Exalt. Her siblings couldn't change too. They had to stay the same. She wanted them to be the same.

Lissa's eyes roamed to the ceiling, her lips pulled into a pout. "Okay," she said after a moment of thought.

Emmeryn had to hold back a sigh of relief.

"Now, last I remembered, you two were supposed to be getting ready to sleep." Chrom's bed creaked as Emmeryn sat down on it. "Do you need me to kiss you goodnight?"

"Nuh-uh! We can't sleep." Chrom replied.

Emmeryn's lips tugged down. "Why not?" she asked.

"Because we're not sleepy. Right Lissa?" Chrom crossed his arms, and he turned to Lissa for support.

"Yea–" Lissa cut herself off with a loud yawn.

"Lissa!"

"Sorry."

"We don't want to sleep." Chrom turned back to Emmeryn, his hands on his hips. He was only four, so of course he would be excited. She knew there would be little convincing him into the bed.

"It's late," she still reminded him.

"But we're not sleepy! There's so much we want to do!"

"Chrom, you need to–"

"Oh! Did you do anything cool today?"

"Hm?"

Chrom leaned forward. "You said the others made you ruler. Did you get to do anything cool, like talking to the royal guards?"

"Ah... no. No, I did not. I just had a boring day, doing boring things like..." Emmeryn racked her mind for a lie, something dull enough to divert his attention. "Reading."

"Aw. That is boring."

"What about you? Did you have an exciting day?"

"Oh yeah! Em, you'll never guess what we found below the first floor!"

Below the first floor? There wasn't anything beneath the first floor, as far as I can remember. Nothing except for–

Emmeryn's mind screeched to a halt. Her eyes flew wide, and she looked back at Chrom. "What did you find?"

"A monster!"

Chrom looked much too happy for something like that. Nervously, she asked, "A monster, you say? You... didn't go down, did you?"

To her relief, he replied, "No, it was too scary."

Her smile returned to her lips. Slowly at first, when a thought struck. "Is that why you don't want to sleep? Because you're scared the monster will come up to eat you?"

"No." Chrom looked away.

Emmeryn frowned, a little more amused now. "Chrom."

"Yes?"

"You don't have to worry about the monster downstairs," she said, pushing him down into the bed. "I... talked with her, and she says she won't ever come upstairs to eat you."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Chrom looked far from relieved at that. If anything, he looked... disappointed?

"That's boring. If father were here, he would smash the monster to bits. Why couldn't you have done that?"

Emmeryn looked away. She'd hoped to distract herself from that. Why did it have to come back to bite her?

"I... I don't think I can do anything like that."

"Well, I believe you can. It's just some stupid monster, right?"

"Why don't you get some sleep?"

"I told you, I'm not sleepy!" Chrom huffed. "Me and Lissa..."

He sat up and turned to the bed next to him, but, to his despair, found Lissa snoring away. Chrom groaned. He didn't want to sleep, as far as Emmeryn could see.

"Please?" She looked down at him. When he looked back, she put on her best smile. A creased brow, a soft turn of her lips. Just like the one father always gave her.

"Fine." With a sigh, Chrom fell back into his bed. "But you promise to make sure the monster doesn't eat me?"

"I promise the monster won't come and eat you," Emmeryn said, and she pulled the covers over Chrom.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

Emmeryn gave him one last smile for the night. The bed shifted again, this time as she pushed herself off. When she turned to leave, however, Chrom grabbed her sleeve.

"Em!"

She had to bite back a tired moan from slipping through her lips. "What is it?"

"You forgot my goodnight kiss. Remember? You said you'd do it."

Emmeryn blinked. "Did I?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Right." The goodnight kiss. It was part of her duty as an older sister, something she'd done so many times before. Yet as she leaned down, softly planting her lips on his forehead, she couldn't help but feel something was missing. Maybe because she was now the only one left to do it.

"Was that good?" she asked as she pulled away.

"Yeah," Chrom said, nodding. "Just like father used to do."

"Oh." Emmeryn turned for the door, hoping it would hide her wince.

The silence in the air hung over her like a weight as she crossed the room. She had only begun to pull the door open when Chrom asked, "When is father coming back?"

Emmeryn paused. Searched herself for an answer. "He..." She let out a breath through her teeth. "Soon. Father will be back soon."

"He'd better. I miss him."

"I miss him too," she said, keeping her eyes out into the hall.

The door clicked shut behind her. She slid down, ignoring how the wood scraped against the back of her nightgown, and she sighed.

"Oh father," she muttered into her knees. "What am I supposed to do?"

Chapter Text

The walk back to her room was a lonely one. The echoes of her soft footsteps were her only company as she trudged through the empty halls. She'd never noticed before, but without the servants running out and about, the castle seemed so empty.

Surely the trip to her room hadn't always been this long.

She passed door after door. Down the hall, she heard heavy footsteps. She stopped. For a second, she debated hiding in one of the doors to her left.

There was no need. As soon as she caught sight of the blue armor in the dim light, and the Ylissean insignia adorning it, she let out a sigh of relief. The knight turning around the corner stopped in front of her.

"Is there a problem, your Grace?" he asked.

"I-it's nothing," she replied, and she waved a hand to dismiss him. "Carry on."

The knight nodded. With his lance held high and his back held straight, he continued past her, like nothing had ever happened.

As Emmeryn watched him move away, she raised a hand to her face.

She was only so jumpy because she was tired. That was all there was to it. A good night's sleep, and all her doubts would go away. Or, at least, they would be easier to handle tomorrow.

Finally, she rounded the last corner to her room. Just a few steps more, and she could fall into the comforting embrace of her bed.

She stepped forward, then stopped. She rubbed her eyes, just to make sure she wasn't seeing things, and when it didn't magically disappear, she tensed.

Someone was peeking through her bedroom door.

Was it a Plegian spy? An assassin, here to do to her what they did to her father?

Whoever they were, they hadn't seen her yet. There was a patrolling knight just a little further down the hall. If she backed away now, maybe she could alert him before the assassin noticed her.

A breeze passed through the hall, shifting the torchlight above them, and it lit up the faded golden stripes running down his ragged clothes.

Oh. He's just a nobleman, Emmeryn thought. A rather poor one, but still, a nobleman. She frowned, this time in frustration. What does he want?

She approached him slowly, her slippers plodding lightly over the carpet.

"Excuse me," she said. "May I help you–"

"Ah!" The red-haired man jumped up and spun to face her. Draped over his arms were her bright yellow bed sheets. "Your Grace, there you are."

Emmeryn's lips tugged further down. "What are you doing?" she asked, and she eyed the sheets piled up in his hands.

"What am I–" The man followed her gaze, and his brow furrowed. "Oh. I do hope you'll forgive the state your bed is in."

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand." Was there something to see about her bed? She'd not been to her room yet, so she wouldn't know.

"You see, my daughter was supposed to take care of it, but she got a little lost. As you can see," he said, hefting the sheets in his arms, "I had to finish the job for her."

"Well, I'd like to go to bed, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, your Grace," the man said. He stepped aside as she reached for the door. "But don't you think you could wait just a minute?"

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's fine," Emmeryn said, and she pulled the door open.

Everything was just as it had been. Everything, that is, except for the mattress sitting atop her bed frame, stripped clear of the yellow sheets she'd been so fond of.

She connected the dots very quickly. He wasn't a nobleman or anything of the like. He was a servant, here to make her bed.

"You haven't made the bed yet?" she asked, turning to the man behind her.

"Why else would I be here?"

"I'm so sorry," Emmeryn said, her eyes growing wide. "I never realized. I was just so tired I assumed you were someone else."

"It's no bother," the servant replied. Reaching out, he pulled over a cushioned seat away from the wall. "If you could take a seat, I'll try to finish as soon as possible."

Emmeryn nodded. As she let her tired legs rest upon the soft velvet padding, she watched the man go about, spreading the bright yellow sheets over her mattress, humming as if he'd done this a thousand times. He moved with such ease and such comfort that for a second, Emmeryn could almost imagine he was her father, checking for monsters beneath her bed.

This man's daughter was a very lucky girl, she decided. Luckier than her, at least. She still had someone to tuck her in at night. Emmeryn would never have that, not anymore, and briefly, she felt a tinge of jealousy for this daughter she'd never met.

Why couldn't she have her father? She wanted someone to kiss her goodnight too.

"Your Grace? Your bed is ready."

Emmeryn blinked. Sure enough, her bed was neatly made, crisp and orderly, like it always was.

"Thank you," Emmeryn said. She raised her gaze to meet the servant's. He frowned back, almost as if he'd noticed something strange.

It vanished the moment she blinked, so she might have imagined it. She wiped her arm over her eyes as she made her way over, and ignored the wetness trailing down her sleeve.

The mattress rustled as she slipped beneath the covers. For a moment, she let herself believe her father was here, just to tuck her in one last time.

Above her, the door creaked open. She glanced up to see the servant standing halfway out the door. His mouth opened a little, as if a word was just on the tip of his tongue. All that managed to leave his lips was air.

"What is it?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing to worry about," he said. "I simply wanted to apologize for my daughter. I'll make sure she knows where she's going next time."

A sense of relief mixed with her disappointment, leaving a foul taste in her mouth. "It's no trouble," she said, trying not to let it show. "You are dismissed."

"You're too kind, your Grace." The man bowed his head, and he slipped out.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Emmeryn alone again. Beside her, the moonlight slipped in through the curtains. She rolled over, her eyes staring up at the ceiling.

All the answers would come to her tomorrow. She was sure of it.

Come morning, and all she wanted to do was fall back to sleep. There was no magical moment of realization, no voice in her head telling her what the right thing was.

And unless the gods wanted her to suffer, the heavy weight pressed down on her eyelids was not some form of divine intervention.

She stayed quiet at the breakfast table. Not that Chrom and Lissa seemed to notice, too wrapped up in some scheme she was not privy to. Across the table, whispers floated between them out of her earshot. She wanted to ask what they were talking about.

But she had lied to them last night, about father. Maybe it was best to let them have their own secrets too.

Her spoon clicked against the porcelain bowl as she swirled her porridge around it. In her other hand, she fiddled with a peach. She rolled it up, down, and all around the wooden table. Anything that didn't involve eating it.

From the corner of her eye, she watched a bit of peach fall from her brother's mouth. The briefest of frowns crossed her face. Surely Tomas, or Nan, or even Nan's strange assistant had told him it was rude to speak with his mouth full?

The fruit trailed from the bottom of her brother's lips to his chin. She followed it as it tumbled through the air, and landed in a heap of bright orange, red, and white on the tabletop.

And that's when a horrifying thought hit her.

The girl in the dungeon. The execution.

Her siblings suspected nothing, at least for now. But executions were a very public event, and though she'd never had the stomach to go see any of her father's executions, word got out very quickly.

There would be questions. Who was the girl? Why was she being executed? And why was Emmeryn's name painted all over it?

Her gut clenched just thinking about it. No no no. I'm not ready to answer that. What do I even say?

Her chair scraped against the floor as she jumped to her feet suddenly. That, her siblings noticed, and she winced.

"Em?" Chrom asked. "Where are you going?"

Emmeryn opened her mouth to speak, when something wet splashed against her leg. She looked down, and she saw a bit of porridge splattered over her nightgown.

She'd completely forgotten about the spoon still in her hands.

"I spilled a bit of porridge on the floor," she said. "I was just about to go fetch a maid to clean it up."

She spun on her heel and rushed out the door without waiting for a reply.

She had to stop the execution. She couldn't do it now, not before she was ready for her siblings to know the truth.

It wasn't as if the dungeons couldn't hold one girl. Her father had used those dungeons before, so they must have been good.

Servants moved aside as she barreled down the halls. She ran through doors, searching for someone, anyone, who could call off the execution. Someone like Tomas, or the pegasus knight captain, or the captain of the royal guard.

She didn't bother looking ahead, and when she turned the corner, she crashed head first into someone else. The girl gave a startled cry, and they both fell back.

As Emmeryn rubbed her head, she lifted her gaze from the floor. The first thing she noticed about the girl sitting across from her was the white, plated armor over her chest. A lance lay a few feet away.

Her eyes widened in recognition. The girl was a pegasus knight! She'd know that kind of armor anywhere!

Emmeryn shot up, not a moment to lose. "Where's your captain?" she blurted out.

"The captain?" the pegasus knight said, and she ran a hand through her pale blue hair. "Last I saw, she was in the courtyard, looking for her son."

"Her son is missing?"

The pegasus knight shrugged. "It's unlikely. He tends to get up earlier than her, and often forgets his breakfast. She probably wants to make sure he ate this morning."

Emmeryn bowed her head in gratitude, and she murmured a quick thanks. She turned and headed toward the courtyard, and as she passed by another group of servants holding a set of dirtied dishes in their hands, she hoped the pegasus knight captain would understand why the execution had to be canceled.

"You want me to stand here?"

"Uh-huh!" Chrom nodded.

The taller boy with the brown hair stared back at him and narrowed his eyes. He didn't complain, though, and he stepped up to the open door and the darkness through it.

Behind him, Chrom felt Lissa shuffle her feet. He looked back at her. They exchanged glances, Lissa holding tight onto the ball in her hands. She'd wanted to play with that today, but Chrom had convinced her this would be more exciting.

She didn't look thrilled with this, though, so Chrom grinned to cheer her up.

They were lucky this boy had agreed to follow them here, otherwise they would have had to show up empty-handed. Em told them the monster wasn't going to eat them, but it couldn't hurt to be prepared. Besides, he'd made a promise, and a prince always had to keep his promises.

Which was why it was so annoying when the boy stopped at the top of the stairs and just looked into the black hole.

"I'm not sure about this," the boy replied. "My mother said never to go down there."

"Why not? Because there are monsters there?"

Lissa tugged at his arm. When he looked over his shoulder, she frowned back.

"Monsters?" The boy laughed. "No, nothing so silly."

Silly? Clearly, the boy had never met a real monster.

He continued, "She said the stairs were dangerous. Nobody's taken care of them in a very long time, so they're dusty. You could slip on them and fall."

"But could you do it for us? Please?" He blinked up at the boy, the same way he remembered that one girl had done the last time his father had brought him on a trip.

The boy looked at the floor. "Well... my mother would not be very happy."

"We won't tell, I promise!"

"I... I don't know..."

"Lissa doesn't want to go down without me," Chrom said, and he held Lissa close, "and I don't want to go down alone with Lissa."

The boy looked at them, then back to the stairs. He stepped back. Hummed.

"I'm going to need a broom," he said at last. "Do you know where those–"

"Fredrick. Where are you? You haven't had your breakfast yet."

The boy, Frederick, froze. "Mother." Turning back to them, he said, "I'm sorry. I have to go."

Chrom stepped aside as the boy ran past. He tried to pull Lissa with him too, so she wouldn't get run over. She tripped and yelped.

As the boy disappeared around the corner, Chrom hoped he would come back. He wanted to see the monster today, and without someone with them, he would have to do it later. Seconds passed, and when he didn't return, Chrom frowned in disappointment.

He turned back to Lissa to tell her the bad news. Instead, he found herself staring at the darkness, her eyes wide with horror.

"Lissa?" he asked. "What's wrong? And where's your..."

Chrom looked at her empty hands, then followed her gaze down the stairs.

"Oh."

He could hear the ball bounce, and bounce, and bounce. When it stopped, he knew it reached the bottom.

Where the monster waited.

Lissa whimpered. She looked like she was about to cry, or start whining.

"We can get another one!" Chrom said, hoping to distract her. He grabbed her hand and tried to tug her back.

Lissa pulled her hand away. "I want to play with that one!" she said.

"What's so special about that one?"

"Em gave it to me!"

"Oh."

Oh indeed. If Em bought it, then it must have been special. Everything Em gave them was very special because they were her things. They couldn't leave something like that in the hands of a monster.

Even if it meant he might get eaten.

Chrom swallowed the fear building up in his throat. Clearing his throat, he cupped a hand to his mouth, and said, "Hello?"

He didn't hear anything at first, so he leaned closer. Very faintly, he could hear something screech. It was like the sound of swords clashing together, only very, very quiet.

It was probably sharpening its claws against the bones lying around on the floor, waiting for its next meal to fall down the stairs.

"Hello?" he said, louder this time.

This time, the sound stopped. Chrom heard something thud against the floor, and the monster mumbled something he couldn't understand.

"Who's there?" the monster said after a moment.

"It's me!" he said. "From yesterday. My sister dropped something down there."

"Is it... this ball?"

"Yes! That's the one!" Chrom stepped forward, but he stopped himself. "We're going to come down now. Can you... not eat us when we get there? Please?"

"I'm not going to..." The monster's voice faded back into nonsense. Or maybe it was the monster language. "I won't eat you."

"Do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Do you swear on the monster king you're not going to eat us? Me and my sister, I mean."

"Swear on the monster king?"

"Yeah! My big sister says you can't break a promise that way."

"Oh, for Naga's sake... Fine, I swear upon the monster king that I won't eat you."

Chrom sighed in relief. He looked at Lissa again, and she seemed just as happy as he was.

"Okay!" he said. "We're going to come down now."

He took Lissa's hand in his, just so she wouldn't be scared. Then, slowly, he took a step down, and he waited. When no wrinkly green hand reached out from the shadows to pull him in, he let out a long breath, and he took another.

Two steps became three, then three steps became five, until one by one, they strolled down the staircase. All around them, the walls grew darker and darker, until only the faintest shine outlined the steps before them.

Suddenly, there was light. Down by their left, an orange glow painted the cobblestone walls and lit up the room for them to see.

Confused, Chrom looked back upstairs. There wasn't supposed to be light here, right? This new light did come from around the bend, though, so maybe the walls hid the light.

But monsters were supposed to only live in the dark. If there was light, something wasn't adding up.

Glancing back at Lissa one last time, Chrom stepped inside.

Above him, a torch flickered brightly. No one had been down here for a very long time, but it still burned. On the other side, a set of big, iron bars glowed in the torchlight. Chrom wasn't sure what they were for, but they looked mean, so he backed away from them.

Between the bars, a bowl sat against a wall, traces of porridge stuck all over inside it, and just beside that was–

"My ball!" Lissa said.

She rushed past Chrom before he could stop her, dragging them both closer to the bars. Chrom yelled in surprise. He tried to remind her, to warn her that they still hadn't seen the monster yet, when...

When a hand came down to rest on top of the ball.

Not green and full of warts, like he'd imagined, but pale, like his and Lissa's.

His eyes trailed up to an arm covered in a blue sleeve. He looked up further, to its chest, covered as well, then to its neck, hidden beneath a blue scarf. At last, he looked up at its face. Deep blue hair ran down its head, almost black in the dim light.

But its face, it almost looked like Em's face, save for that dark black spot covering the left side of her face.

This wasn't a monster. This was a girl!

"You're no monster!" was the first thing out of his mouth.

The monster's – no, girl's – eyebrows tugged down. "Yes. I am aware," she said.

Without a word, she rolled the ball back out between the bars. Lissa swooped down to grab it, before she dashed back behind his legs in an instant.

Chrom frowned, and he scratched his hair. This was so confusing! "But I thought you were a monster, and you're not! Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did say something," she replied.

"Then you should have tried harder!"

"Well, I don't suppose it matters much now, does it?" The girl sighed. "I'm not a monster."

"Why not?" Lissa piped up from behind him.

Chrom looked back. To his surprise, she stepped up, her face confused as well.

"Why... not?" The girl narrowed her eyes. Her hair draped over her face as she tilted her head.

She didn't understand them. Or, she didn't understand how much she did look like a monster, with that big black spot on her face.

"You have one eye," Chrom said, and he pointed at the place where her other eye should have been.

"Oh no, I have another eye."

Chrom crossed his arms. "Can we see?" he said, not believing it.

"I... can't." The girl looked away with her one eye. "I have to keep it hidden."

"Is it because you're a monster?"

"No, it isn't." The girl shook her head. "My eye is hurt. That's all."

Chrom gasped. "You're hurt? Let me get my sister! She can–"

"No!"

The girl's sudden shout startled him. He stepped back, eyes wide.

"Eh?"

The girl's gaze softened. "It's fine," she said. "I don't need a healer."

Fine? That was a very strange thing to say, for someone who definitely wasn't fine. She'd even said so herself!

"But you only have one eye!" he tried to point out.

"I haven't had this eye for a long time."

"But everyone knows you need two eyes! I gotta get my sister to get it back for you!"

He turned to leave, but before he could go, she said, "I'm afraid no healing magic can bring me back my eye."

This time, Chrom shook his head. "You don't know that!"

"I do."

"But you haven't tried!"

"I have."

She spoke with such a serious voice, when Chrom looked back and saw her eyes, steady and unwavering, he couldn't help but believe her.

"Oh."

His gaze fell to the floor. She couldn't have two eyes? He couldn't imagine what that was like, but it must be terrible!

"Hey, don't look so down." The girl's voice rang him from his thoughts. He looked back up, and oddly enough, the girl's lips were turned up in a smile.

"Why?" he asked. "I wanna help you, but you won't let me. Why won't you let me help you?"

"There's nothing you can do. I lost this eye a very long time ago."

"Just like Sir Silas."

Chrom looked over at Lissa. She was staring right at the girl, her eyes glittering with excitement., and when Chrom's mind caught up with his ear, he brightened up too.

"You're right!" he said, and he snapped back to the girl. "Just like Sir Silas from father's stories!"

"Sir Silas? I've never heard of him," the girl said, frowning.

That was news to Chrom. "You don't? But everyone knows who he is! At least, that's what father said. Father always said he lost his eye in a big fight, trying to save his mommy from some bad guys. Is that how you lost your eye too?"

"Well, it wasn't anything like that–"

"Ooh! Tell me! Tell me please!" Chrom said.

"I wanna know too!" Lissa said, and they both leaned forward.

"Ah." The girl inched away. "I don't think you'd like... that is, I don't believe I should say–"

Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. Something so obvious, he had to stop himself from slapping his forehead. In all his excitement, he'd forgot to introduce himself, and as a prince, that was very important.

"My name is Chrom."

The girl's eyes widened. "I–I'm sorry?" she stammered.

"I just realized, I forgot to say my name. Nan says that I should always say my name when I meet someone." Chrom held out a hand for her to shake. "What is yours?"

The girl stared at his hand. For a second, he thought he'd done something wrong. This was what you were supposed to do when you met someone, right?

The answer came to him a second later. The bars! She couldn't reach through them, so he might have made her mad. He pulled his hand away, but when he looked back up, he thought he saw water pool in her eyes.

Something flashed through them, something he couldn't quite place.

"Luci–Marth. My name is Marth."

LuciMarth? A strange name, but Nan said everyone from other places had weird names, so he shouldn't think that way.

He smiled instead. "Well, it's nice to meet you, LuciMarth!"

"Can you tell us? Please?" Lissa said beside him.

"Yeah." Chrom nodded with her. "Father always told us stories before he... he left."

"O–of course fath–of course," LuciMarth said, and she looked up. "I'll do anything for you."

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry?"

"I want to cancel the execution." Emmeryn put on her best scowl, the same one she'd seen father use time and time again to get what he wanted.

Most people got mad. They shouted, they scowled back.

Captain Madeline raised an eyebrow.

Emmeryn wavered, but just a tiny bit. "I know you must have worked hard on this," she said, pointing to a raised wooden platform behind the captain, "but we don't need it anymore."

"Oh, Naga dammit," Emmeryn heard a soldier groan behind her, followed by a heavy wooden thunk.

Captain Madeline looked over her shoulder. "I'd be a little more careful with that if I were you," she called out. "Our carpenter is a picky man, and he gets quite fussy if we bring him damaged wares if you can catch my meaning. We wouldn't want any more delays to this execution, would we?"

"You can't!" When she noticed everyone's eyes on her, she shrank back. "I mean, you don't have to."

There was a pause. The soldier looked between Captain Madeline and her, before he shrugged, picked up the wooden planks lying at his feet, and continued on.

The pegasus knight's armor rustled as she knelt down beside Emmeryn, a hand on her knee. "Your Grace," she said, "can I have a word?"

"You may?"

"Ah... Well... How do I explain this..." Captain Madeline stopped. She glanced up at the sky, adjusted the hand resting on her knee, and hummed. "You're not too old for stories, are you?"

"I don't think so?"

"Oh. Good." Captain Madeline gave a small laugh. "My son says he's too old for stories. It's nice to know girls take longer to outgrow them. In any case, I'd like to tell you a story."

"A story? About what?" Emmeryn asked.

Captain Madeline frowned. "What's it about? Well... I'm not going to say it, but it's about you."

Emmeryn tilted her head. "Huh?"

"Yes, it's about you and your father. I know now might not be the best time to speak of him, especially with how soon he'd just passed, so I'm not going to mention him either. He was Exalt for the longest time, though, and for good reason too. He showed he had the strength to lead his people to victory, so they listened to him."

"You, on the other hand, have yet to prove your worth. You haven't had a chance yet, so that's okay. You're quite the youthful spirit, and... let's just say the others are a little more than reluctant to respect your rule."

"What?"

Emmeryn yelped as Captain Madeline put a hand to her shoulder. "It can be quite the challenge to wrap your mind around it, so I'll try to simplify it as best I can. You see, there was a girl–"

"No," Emmeryn cut her off before she could go on what was sure to be another lengthy tangent. "You already told me all about that."

"I did?" Captain Madeline frowned. "Oh. It would seem I have."

"Everyone loves my father, I get it. Why, though, must we carry out this execution?"

The captain's armor rustled again. To Emmeryn's confusion, her face shifted into an unsure look. A worried look, even.

"I'm sure your father has brought you to his hearings, has he not?" When Emmeryn nodded, she continued, "Then you must have noticed how empty the throne room was yesterday."

Emmeryn blinked. She hadn't noticed, but now that she'd mentioned it, the lords and ladies who so often populated the sidelines had been strangely absent.

"Maybe it was time for their lunch?" Even as the words left her mouth, she knew it was a poor excuse.

Captain Madeline didn't seem to fault her for that. "Your Grace, your hearings are quite important events. Missing something like that without an excuse is sure to anger the Exalt."

"But I'm not mad at them."

"Maybe not. But they don't know that, do that?"

Emmeryn clenched her fists. She didn't want her people to know her as the Exalt who got mad at every little thing. Her father had told her that was bad, but if no one else knew... Well, that frustrated her to no end.

"So do they want to make me mad?" she asked.

Captain Madeline shook her head. "No, not exactly. They simply won't care if you get mad. With your fa–" A cough. "With someone as young as you on the throne, everyone will try to steal it out from under you if you can't prove to them that you can keep it."

"They would want to steal it? But why?" This was always how things were supposed to go, wasn't it? She was supposed to rule over everyone, and everyone was supposed to listen to what she said. To think that anyone would try to change that, to take it away, it was unimaginable.

"I'm afraid not everyone can be as understanding and exemplary as you, Your Grace." Captain Madeline's lips quirked up, the first time she'd ever seen them do so. "By executing this traitor, you will show your people that you are not a child to be fooled and toyed with. No one would dare attempt to take your kingdom from you."

As much as Emmeryn hated to admit, the offer was tempting. She never wanted her siblings to find out about the execution, but if the only other option was to lose everything they'd always had before...

They would blame her for sure. Maybe they would be horrified of her choice now, but at least they could still live happy lives.

Right?

"Do you see why we cannot keep the execution away?" Captain Madeline asked.

Emmeryn opened her mouth to reply when she heard footsteps come from behind her. She looked back, and her face brightened the second she saw who it was.

"Your Grace!" Tomas said, walking briskly across the courtyard to meet her. The red-haired nobleman followed him, a teapot and a pair of teacups nested on the platter in his hands. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you." His eyes narrowed as he glanced up at Captain Madeline. "I'd like to know what you are doing with her."

Sensing the hostility between them, Emmeryn stepped forward. "Tomas!" she said. "Is there anything you need?"

"Only a moment of your time. Alone." Tearing his eyes from Captain Madeline, Tomas smiled at her.

Emmeryn opened her mouth to accept, only to catch a meaningful look from Captain Madeline from over her shoulder. She wanted an answer.

All she could think of was how she didn't have one.

"Do my people not love me?" she asked Tomas.

"Of course they love you."

"Do they really?"

"Yes! They absolutely adore you. Just ask anyone else, and they'll tell you they'd be prepared to defend you from those dastardly Plegians at a moment's notice."

She relaxed. Slowly, a relieved smile began to worm its way back into her own face. "Thank you, Tomas," she said. Turning to Captain Madeline, she bowed her head. "And to you as well, captain, for your concern, but I don't believe an execution will be necessary."

Captain Madeline's brows pulled down into a frown. "Your Grace, I must ask you to reconsider," she said. "If you rescind the execution, your people will take it as a sign of weakness. They will revolt."

"I... don't think they will. Will they?" Emmeryn looked to Tomas for help.

He only sneered at Captain Madeline. "Of course you would tell her that," he said. "Hoping to scare you, though I assume I taught you well enough to see through her lies?"

"Ironic," the red-haired nobleman muttered from behind Tomas.

Emmeryn looked over at him, surprised to hear him speak. She wasn't the only one to notice; Tomas looked too, though his expression was a lot less friendly.

"Do you have anything you would like to share, butler?"

The red-haired nobleman glanced away, frowning. "No, sir. I apologize for speaking out of line. I only serve tea."

"Just as I thought. It would be unwise to forget your place." Tomas looked satisfied with that answer. Emmeryn was not, though.

Stepping forward, she asked, "Is there truly nothing you have to say?"

"It is nothing of value," the butler replied. "Forgive me, I simply spoke out of place."

"Even so, I would like to hear what you have to say." She could still remember how conflicted he'd seemed as he finished preparing her bed. Maybe it was silly of her, but whatever words had been on the tip of his tongue then, she hoped to hear now.

"Your Grace," Tomas said, and his face morphed into a confused expression. "What are you doing? You don't need to lend an ear to his word."

"Please, Tomas. I would like to know."

"But he's just a butler. Surely anything someone like him says holds little intellectual merit."

"Even so, I want to know."

"Your Grace, I must insist you give this a second thought."

Emmeryn moved to say something in return, but Captain Madeline beat her to it.

"Her Grace gave you an order. I'd advise against ignoring it. After all, it would be unwise to forget your place, as I'm sure you'd agree."

Tomas had no reply to that.

Without Tomas' protests, Emmeryn turned to the nobleman. "Do you think my people do not love me?"

"I'm not sure what to tell you."

"Tell me the truth, please. My siblings' lives could depend on it."

Sighing, the nobleman said, "Among the staff, no one is quite sure what to think. Everyone is waiting to see what you will do."

"Which is exactly why you must go through with this execution," Captain Madeline said, and she crossed her arms. "The longer you wait, the more time anyone with a plot against you can sway the hearts of your people."

"No!" The noble's outburst surprised them all.

The flat line the captain's mouth had been set into faltered. "No?"

Instead of shrinking away, he stepped toward her, a challenge held within a clenched fist. "That is exactly why you must not go through with the execution."

"And why not, good sir?"

"Because it's wrong. No ordinary girl her age should have to condemn someone to death."

"But she is no ordinary girl her age, is she? She is the Exalt. Her people cannot see her as weak, or as someone afraid to serve a cold platter of justice to those who deserve it."

"There is strength in stopping an execution as well, strength in forgiveness and grace."

"That's not how Exalt Alabaster did it."

"Then Exalt Alabaster was wrong."

Emmeryn saw Captain Madeline's eyes narrow. Tomas whispered something to her, grabbing her arm, but whatever it was, she didn't hear.

"That is no way to speak of the Exalt!" Captain Madeline said. "The dead deserve nothing but our respect, especially a man as great as him."

"Great?" the nobleman scoffed. "He was a tyrant who cowed you all into submission."

"Could I tyrant rouse as many people to his side as he did?"

"Through force, yes."

"That sounds nothing like the Exalt Alabaster I knew of my whole life."

"It's how I knew him in the years I spent in his service."

"And who are you to claim such things?"

The man stepped back to take a bow. "Lord Bartholomew, at your service," he said.

"Lord Bartholomew?" Captain Madeline huffed. "I remember you now. You're the steward the Exalt brought in just before the Plegians attacked. What do you know about the Exalt? You've not been here for five years, and you think you can claim him as some cruel oppressor?"

"I've worked for him long enough to know that, yes."

And suddenly, all eyes returned to Emmeryn, and she flinched.

"Your Grace," Lord Bartholomew said, scowling back at Captain Madeline. "I must implore you to cancel the execution. Aligning yourself with your father will only lead to disaster."

"On the contrary," Captain Madeline replied. "This execution is what your father would have wanted. It is justice for his death. You must not falter in your decision."

Emmeryn stepped back, overwhelmed by the barrage of words. Helplessly, she looked back to Tomas for guidance. What do I do? She tried to say with her gaze.

"Do whatever you must," he said.

Emmeryn glanced between both the captain and the nobleman. Captain Madeline's brown eyes held strong, firm resolve steeling her expression, while Lord Bartholomew's red eyes burned with a fiery passion. Neither was willing to back down, not without her own words.

Taking a deep breath, Emmeryn made a choice.

"Hello Frederick."

Lifting his gaze from the street he'd been looking down, Frederick found himself staring up at a familiar blue-haired girl.

"Oh, hello Miss Phila," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mother sent me to bring you to the dining hall," she replied. "It's time for lunch."

Frederick frowned. "I thought she said she would send Miss Helena."

"Helena? Oh, she was, but she couldn't find her, so she sent me instead." Phila gave him half a smile. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine." Looking away, Frederick added, "Tell mother I'm going to be late."

"Why?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh? Found something more important to attend to?" Leaning up against the window beside him, Phila followed his gaze to the raised wooden platform standing just outside the castle walls. At the center, a gallows loomed over a low wooden bench.

"They're almost finished repairing it," Frederick filled her in.

"So I've heard," Phila replied, adjusting her place on the wall. "They say the execution will be held tomorrow. The day after, at the latest."

"Tomorrow? That's slow. Why does it take a whole week for them to finish fixing up this old thing? They should have been done the day the Exalt gave the order."

Phila motioned down to a tiny shop below them, planks stacked just outside the door, a hooded man leaning up against them. “Well, you know Mister Gregor. He’s very picky.” She stopped to shoot Frederick a cheeky grin. “A lot like you.”

Frederick made a face at that. "I don't like cabbages, that's all."

"Frederick, you know cabbages are good for you."

"But they taste so bad!"

Phila chuckled. "If you think that's bad, just wait until you join the Royal Guard."

"What's in the Royal Guard?"

"Sorry. It's not my place to tell." She said that, but the smile slowly spreading across her face told him it was probably something bad.

He looked away with a huff. It was better to stop talking there than to risk saying anything else.

His stomach disagreed, if the way it growled was any indication. Frederick glared down at it, hoping that Phila hadn't heard, but her raised eyebrow dashed that.

"Not hungry, eh?"

"I'm not!" he said.

Again, his stomach told him he definitely was with another growl.

"Alright," Phila said, turning herself to face him. "What's wrong? You don't like missing out on lunch."

"Mother does."

Phila blinked. "The captain?"

"Yes." Frederick knew it wasn't polite to scowl, but he couldn't help himself. "Ever since the Exalt said there was going to be an execution, mother has hardly left her side at all."

"Well," Phila waved her hands in front of him aimlessly, "the Exalt is rather new. She needs all the help she can get, especially with the execution coming up."

"But I need her too!"

"I'm not saying you don't. She probably knows that too. She's just been... busy. That's all." Placing a firm hand on his shoulder, Phila looked at him, smiled, and said, "I promise, once this is all over, everything will go back to normal."

"You really think so?"

"Of course."

Frederick smiled back, feeling a little better with her words. This was only for now. Like Phila had said, as soon as the execution was over, he would have his mother back.

"Hey! Be careful!" someone yelled behind them.

Frederick and Phila turned to look just in time to see a blonde woman stumble into view. Just around the corner, they heard giggling, followed by a chorus of "Sorry miss!"

The woman shook her head with a sigh. When she turned and spotted them, though, her face lit up, and she quickly made her way over.

"Freddy! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" she said brightly. "And Phila? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Helena," Phila replied, ducking her head. "Captain Madeline sent me to fetch Frederick when she couldn't find you. Sorry."

Helena waved her aside. "It's not your fault, kid." She paused, before adding, "I just passed the prince and princess back there. Do you know what's got them so excited?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Phila said.

"Me too," Frederick added. "And I come here every day."

Helena hummed, shrugging after a second. "Eh. I suppose if you don't know, you don't know." She paused. "Say, what do you two say to heading back to the dining hall for some lunch?"

Frederick looked at Phila. Phila only nodded back. An unspoken message passed between them, comforting Frederick and pushing him forward.

"I'll come," he said at last.

"That's a relief. Hey, maybe if we get there before lunch is halfway done, the captain will forget I went missing. What do you think, Freddy?"

"She won't. My mother never forgets."

Chapter Text

The day of the execution loomed over her, casting its terrible shadow over her already dark and gloomy cell. Dark rings circled her eye, and cuts ran over the palm of her left hand, speaking of an entire week of sleepless nights spent hacking away at the bars. She should have felt terrible.

Right now, though, as she spoke with her father, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

"And there I was," she said, holding her hands out as if to dangle her story before them, "the village around me set ablaze. Our swords and our lances were splintered to bits, and the enemy just beyond the woods outnumbered us a hundred to one."

"What did you do?" Chrom asked with bated breath, his hands pressed against the bars. He and Lissa were almost leaning up against them, so sucked into the story Lucina thought they would fall straight through if they came any closer.

Her cheeks ached as she dragged the corner of her lips up into a smile. "What did we do?" she repeated. "As night fell, though our muscles ached from a day spent fighting, my friends and I roused the townsfolk into action. Bringing down the scorched remains of countless homes, we fashioned them into a wall around what remained of the village. No matter how hard we wanted to rest, we pushed forward because we knew that if we didn't, the villagers would die. Beneath the light of the moon, we stayed up working as hard as we could, and by the time the sun returned, we had built the village the strongest wall it had ever seen!"

"And did it work?" Chrom said.

"Of course it did!" Lucina replied, grinning. "Thanks to us, the villagers were able to drive off the enemy, and my friends and I could finally go to sleep, knowing that the villagers would live thanks to our hard work."

She didn't mention that, the day after they'd left, that village was overrun by a swarm of Risen wyvern riders. They hadn't even considered the Risen could take to the skies, and while Lucina was eternally grateful her friends hadn't been caught in the attack, a small part of her believed the villagers could have survived if they'd just stayed for one more night.

One more night.

Whether she succeeded in her escape or not, one more night was all she had left with her father. As much as she wanted it to never end, as her final story drew to a close, so to, did their time together.

"That's all for tonight," she said, clapping her hands together.

Chrom and Lissa groaned at the same time. "Already?" Chrom asked. "But you barely got to tell us anything today!"

Taking a quick look at the moon hovering in the sky, Lucina said, "It's not good for you to stay up this late. I've kept you here long enough, and I'm sure you have more important things you have to attend to tomorrow."

"But they're so boring! I don't wanna listen to Nan tell us all about etti... edi... ettek..."

"Manners," Lissa told him.

"Yeah! Manners!" Chrom latched on.

Hearing that, Lucina couldn't help but remember the days of her youth, when her mother tried to ingrain those very same lessons of etiquette into her. She'd never cared for them much back then, and it was a little funny to think her father thought the same.

Though maybe if she'd paid more attention, she wouldn't be here right now. Being able to dissuade an angry nobleman went a long way, it seemed.

"Boring they may be, they're still very important for you, especially when you grow up," she said. "Pay attention to your old Nan for me, won't you?"

Chrom hummed. "Only if you promise you'll tell us more stories tomorrow!"

"More stories?" Taken aback, Lucina frowned. "I'm afraid I don't have any more. None that would interest you, anyway. I'm not sure you want to hear about the time one of my friends lost control of his wyvern in the middle of a battle."

"But we do! You're so cool, everything you talk about could make a good story!"

Stunned, Lucina asked, "You really think so highly of me? Why?"

"Why not?" Chrom said, his voice so sure and steady as if it was fact. "When there's people in trouble, you never sleep until you know they're safe. When there's bad guys running around, you never stop looking until they're caught. You're just like a hero from one of father's stories, except... you're real!"

Lucina had received praise before. She'd received it from her friends, from the people she'd saved, but hearing it from him, somehow, made her feel so much better.

"I... thank you," she said. Her face fell into a smile, more natural this time. "I'll try, but I can't promise anything."

"That's good enough for me!" Chrom chirped. "Come on, Lissa!" He turned to his sister, and he grabbed her by the arm. As the two of them reached the stairs, Chrom stopped. He looked over at Lucina one last time, and said, "Goodnight Miss Marth!"

Lissa didn't say anything, instead offering Lucina a tiny wave. Lucina returned it, watching as the two children disappeared around the corner before she finally let her arms fall limp at her sides, slumping back against the wall.

A tired sigh escaped her, and once more, her eye drifted to the bars high above keeping her barred from the street. Her clothing scraped against the floor as she shuffled over to her bedsheet, and she reached beneath it, pulling out the knife she kept hidden there.

"One more night is all I need," she muttered to herself. "I can't promise you I'll have more stories to tell, but I will promise you, this shall not be the last time I see you."

She raised her hands to take hold of the iron bars again. Pressing her blade to them, she resumed her work, sawing it back and forth as, bit by bit, the bars continued to give away.

Morning came and went, and just like that, the time of the execution had finally arrived.

Standing out on the balcony of her room, Emmeryn swept her gaze over the city before her as the harsh late morning sun struck her face. She looked over the rooftops, the bustling streets, and the steadily growing crowd gathering around the courtyard at the front of the castle. Everything that made up her father's kingdom, now hers to rule.

All this excitement, it felt so sudden, despite the fact Emmeryn had known it would come for almost a week now. She wasn't ready, this felt too soon.

But she hadn't been ready to lose her father. The world moved on, whether she liked it or not.

There was a knock at her door.

"Come in," Emmeryn said, keeping her eyes fixed on the courtyard below.

She heard the door creak open. The sound of footsteps softened over her carpet before finally coming to a stop behind her.

"Your Grace," Tomas said, "your people are waiting for you."

Emmeryn hummed in reply.

"Shall we head over to the gates now? I'm sure you remember what I taught you about being late."

"Timeliness is important for a future Exalt, I know, Tomas." She sighed. "I'll be ready in a moment."

A second of silence passed between them. Emmeryn inhaled. Tried to prepare herself for what she knew was about to happen.

I'm ready for this. If father could do it, so can I, she told herself.

Saying that was easy. Believing it was a whole different matter.

"Are you still unsure about your decision?" Tomas asked.

"I don't know." Finally turning to face him, she said, "What do you think I should do?"

"I cannot say," he replied, "but whatever you do choose, I'll be behind you all the way."

"I see."

"Perhaps a cup of tea would do good to clear your mind?"

Emmeryn frowned. "I thought you said being late would reflect poorly on me."

"I did, didn't I?" Tomas chuckled. "Thank you for reminding me."

Shaking her head, she huffed. "Anyway, this... this is what's best for us. This is what father would have done. It isn't anything to worry about."

"Excellent!" Tomas clapped his hands. "Now, shall we head for the main hall? We wouldn't want to keep the good Captain waiting, would we?"

"No, I suppose not."

Taking one last look out the window, Emmeryn headed for the door. Tomas stopped her halfway there.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Frowning, Emmeryn followed the look he gave over her shoulder to the sword lying on her desk. Falchion, her father's sword, had been there since she'd been told her father was dead. Seeing it only brought back memories she didn't want to face.

"Must I wear my father's sword?" she asked, taking a step back.

"Of course. It's yours now."

It was, but it still felt wrong to call it that. She hadn't touched it since it had been put there. "I don't even know if I can wield it."

"That matters little, I think. Your brother and sister are much too small to hold it themselves, and someone must keep up appearances. This is a rather momentous occasion, after all, and you must look every part the Exalt."

Emmeryn wanted to argue further, but Captain Madeline's words rang in her head. She had to show she was strong.

So, without another word, she walked over to the desk. She grabbed the sword and strapped it around her waist, letting her robes fall back over it before she headed back for the door.

Tomas trailed behind her as she stepped into the hall. A few servants stopped to watch them as they walked past, but most kept to themselves.

The execution was to happen at noon. With the sun nearing the highest point in the sky, Emmeryn knew they would have to move quickly if she wanted to make it in time. In hindsight, her rush should have warranted a little more care, especially when she turned a corner and came crashing into someone else.

The moment she hit the ground, Tomas was at her side. "Your Grace, are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Tomas."

Whirling on the woman sitting across from Emmeryn, Tomas jabbed an accusing finger at her. "You should be more careful. Do you have any idea who you stand before?"

"Tomas, there's no need to make such a fuss over it." Pushing herself to her feet, Emmeryn offered a smile to the woman. "I hope you'll forgive my carelessness, miss..."

Then she stopped. The woman before her almost looked like a skeleton with how thin she was, not to mention her skin was pale as a sheet. Her curly red hair hung off her scalp like a curtain descending from the pointy hat atop her head, and only when she met the sunken eyes watching her through a pair of cracked glasses did she realize that she had stared a little too long.

"Ah! I'm so sorry," Emmeryn said, jumping back. "I didn't mean to be rude."

The woman muttered something Emmeryn couldn't quite catch, aside from "Young Emmeryn."

That was unsettling. The woman recognized her, but she couldn't remember meeting anyone like this, save for...

A name popped into her head, one with a starkly different face. Emmeryn gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she whispered, "Lady Simone?"

A word emerged through her cracked lips that sounded vaguely like an "Indeed".

Emmeryn recognized the curly red hair, the faded blue robes, but everything about her looked so off it almost felt wrong for her mind to match her face with the name.

"What happened to you?" she was barely able to say.

"Don't you know?" Tomas scoffed. "She has been hiding in her room for almost three years now."

"Why?"

"Who knows? Perhaps she came out of her isolation to see the execution."

Emmeryn watched as the woman pushed herself to her feet and hobbled past them. Her legs shook with every step, as if they were unused to the weight of her body. If anything, her face alone told her she hadn't come close to a trace of sunlight for a very long time.

"Is this execution really such a big deal?" she found herself asking as soon as the woman disappeared around the corner.

"It seems to be," Tomas said. Under his breath, low enough he thought she couldn't hear, he added, "That brute is more clever than I've given her credit for."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" His smile was back in an instant. "I'm just so proud to see what you've become. If you can make someone like her come out of her room, imagine how much excitement you've roused with the rest of your people."

That got Emmeryn to pause. "The rest of my people?"

A new wave of confusing emotions racked her mind. She'd been so worried about her brother and sister, she had never thought about what everyone else would think. Captain Madeline said they would approve. They had to if she didn't want them to revolt.

But what if they didn't?

"Your Grace?" Tomas' raspy voice snapped her out of her thoughts. As she shook her head, she looked up to meet his narrowed gaze. "Your Grace, what's wrong?" he asked. "You look unwell."

Emmeryn placed a hand over her face. She must not have hidden her feelings as well as she'd thought, and clearing her throat, she replied, "It's trivial. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Still having doubts? My offer for tea still stands."

"Won't I be late?"

Tomas waved a hand. "You're the Exalt. I'm sure if you ordered it, they could delay the execution for another hour."

Tea sounded nice. Her throat felt parched, and if it helped clear her head, nothing but good things could come of it.

Tomas held out a hand. "What do you say, young Emmeryn?"

She reached out to take it, but something forced her to hesitate.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught glimpses of the servants, moving back and forth through the castle halls. They were all around her, hoisting shiny porcelain dishes in the air, or sheets folded across their arms, striding around them as if they were just passing through.

Only, Emmeryn could see their narrowed eyes. Suspicious of her. Though they hid it well, she could feel the gaze of everyone here on her.

Shrinking back, Emmeryn said, "I think I'll pass."

Tomas' kindly smile faltered. At the edge of her vision, she thought she saw his fist clench.

Behind her, she heard the approach of clinking metal boots. Emmeryn spun around, and she was relieved to find Captain Madeline strolling toward her.

"Your Grace," Captain Madeline said, nodding back. "Hello. I was just about to get you."

Emmeryn peered over the captain's shoulder. Following behind her was a boy with hair a similar shade of brown standing beside an older girl with pale blue hair, and at the back, a towering man hid behind a black hood.

When Madeline noticed her looking, she glanced over her shoulder. "Your Grace," she said, motioning to the girl. "This is Phila, one of my knights."

"Phila, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said, quickly shaking the girl's hand.

"The honor is mine, Your Grace," Phila replied.

As they came apart, Captain Madeline then pointed to the man. "I'm sure you've seen Axton before."

"You're my father's executioner," Emmeryn's face lit up at the name. "I'm pleased to meet you."

She held out a hand. The executioner took it carefully, touching her skin so gently it felt like a light breeze.

Emmeryn thought it a little strange, until Captain Madeline explained, "He's a tad reserved. I do hope you won't mind. I can assure you, his work is exceptional, social skills notwithstanding."

"I don't mind at all," Emmeryn said, shaking her head. "If my father placed his trust in you, then I shall as well."

The executioner's only reply was a slow nod. Beside her, the furrow in Tomas' brow deepened. His silence seemed to bother Tomas, but of all the times Emmeryn had caught sight of the executioner in the castle, he'd given her no reason to suspect him.

The boy in front of him, however, was a tad more unfamiliar sight. Nodding her head toward him, Emmeryn said, "And I assume this is your son?"

"Indeed he is." Captain Madeline smiled as she spoke, the most emotion Emmeryn had seen her display, if only by a small margin. She placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "This is Frederick."

In a way, the light in his eyes reminded her of her younger brother. The thought brought a smile to her face as well, and she said, "It's nice to meet you, Frederick."

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," he replied with all the enthusiasm of his mother.

Turning to Captain Madeline once more, she asked, "Where are you taking him? Not to the front courtyard, I hope"

"Oh no, he's far too young for that."

"That's good." Emmeryn laughed nervously. "I certainly wouldn't want my siblings to attend something so gruesome as an execution."

"What execution?"

What little moisture remained in Emmeryn's throat vanished in an instant. She prayed to Naga she'd only imagined it, but when she turned around, she came face to face with Chrom and Lissa looking up at her innocently.

She had hoped it would never come to this.

All around her, the world fell silent. Someone could have hurled a Thoron spell past her ear, and she wouldn't have noticed.

Emmeryn bit her lip. "Ah... you see..."

"An execution? Does that mean father is back?" Chrom asked, and his eyes lit up in excitement.

"No."

"No?" It hurt her to see the light in his eyes flicker and die. Confusion followed as Chrom's brows pulled down. "But I thought father was the only one who could order executions."

"Not anymore."

"Not anymore?" Chrom's frown deepened. Slowly he put the pieces together. "Is it because you got put in charge?"

"Yes. It is."

"But what will happen when father gets back? What will he say if he returns and finds out you–"

"He won't."

"Are you saying we'll have to lie to him when he gets back?"

"He's not coming back."

Chrom's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened. "Why not?"

"Why not?" Emmeryn asked. Her question echoed back into her own ears, taunting her with an answer she didn't want to say. "Why not? Because he's... he's de..." She swallowed. "He's gone, Chrom."

"Gone?"

Chrom blinked. A thin layer of moisture fell over his eyes, and in them, Emmeryn saw her own tears reflected back at her.

"No," he muttered. He shook his head, trembling. "No, that's not right! That can't be..."

Suddenly, he pulled Lissa close and held her tight. Emmeryn stepped forward. What she wanted to do, she wasn't sure. Pull them close? Run a hand over their backs and tell them everything would be alright?

When she caught a glimpse of Lissa's face, though, she stopped. Lissa looked so lost, so confused. She couldn't have any idea what was going on. She was only two.

A memory surfaced, one of Lissa coming to her room in the dead of night, bolts of lightning tearing through the dark sky. She looked scared then, but it was nothing compared to the terror on her face right now.

"Why?" Chrom finally whispered.

"Someone killed him, Chrom. Someone took him away from us."

Lucina tugged on one of the bars. It gave in to her touch, but not nearly enough. Taking the knife in her hand, she moved to hold it up to the metal.

The blade grated against the iron with a screech. The first time she'd heard it, it had given her quite a shock. Now, she did her best to block it out, trying not to grimace as she sawed the knife back and forth. Inch by inch, the knife sunk deeper into the bar until, with one last push, the final bar gave away.

Lucina took the knife to her teeth, biting down on it firmly. She reached up to tug at the bar. It still refused to move any more than an inch, but with a little force, it snapped free.

Lucina glanced down at it, before she tossed it down with the rest, sliding her knife into a fold in the side of her coat. She turned her attention to the window.

Her freedom was tantalizingly close. All she had left to do was haul herself through, and once she was free, she could... she could...

Lucina's train of thought screeched to a halt. What could she do? She had to return to save Aunt Emmeryn from the assassins, but with her father and Aunt Lissa so young, she had no idea how long she would have to wait, or what to do before then.

Thud. Thud.

The sound of footsteps over her head snapped her back into focus. There would be time to think about what she would do later. Right now, she had to get out.

Her hands dug into the cobblestone road above, and she tried to haul herself up. Her arms shook, straining to hold her weight. She pulled harder, but her grasp only became more difficult to maintain until, at last, her fingers slipped, and she fell to the floor.

Her boots crunched against the stone floor. Gritting her teeth, Lucina tried again. She dragged herself up, her feet leaving the floor an inch at a time. The window moved closer, close enough for her to see the street before her.

"Miss Marth! Miss Marth!"

Lucina froze, even before she recognized the voice as her father's. And he sounded scared. Was something wrong?

Before she could decide what to do, the stone slipped out of her grasp. Pain shot up her back as she slammed into the floor, and something sharp bit into her side.

Lucina looked down, running a hand over her coat. When she saw a line of red running down just below her arm, next to where she'd hidden her knife, she figured it must have scraped against her as she'd fallen.

Groaning, Lucina pushed herself up just as Chrom stumbled into view, Lissa just behind him. The first thing she noticed was their panting, like they'd come running for her. She ignored the throbbing at her side and forced herself to move closer to the cell door.

"What happened?" she asked.

Strange was the only way she could describe the expression on Chrom's face. In the week she'd spent with him, he always seemed so cheerful and optimistic, just as she remembered him. Seeing him unhappy, it was a strange contrast to all her happy memories of him. For a second, she feared there might have been something wrong with her.

But... that couldn't be. She hadn't done anything. Had she?

"What happened to my father?" he blurted out.

Lucina took a sharp breath. She glanced at her hands, at all the cuts she'd torn in her gloves from cutting away at her bars, and the little lines of blood scattered beneath. She'd been so busy, it slipped her mind, but his father's blood was on her hands, wasn't it?

"Is something wrong?" she asked instead.

"My sister is holding an execution!"

"I know."

"It's your execution!"

"I know."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Chrom whined.

Lucina winced. "I... thought you knew?"

"But I didn't! And now my father is never coming back, and you're going to die!" Chrom shook his head wildly. "This has to be some sort of mistake, right? You didn't kill him, you couldn't have! I mean, you're you, and you're not a bad guy! It doesn't make sense!"

"You didn't. Did you?" Lissa asked quietly.

Lucina tore her eye away from Chrom to find Lissa staring up at her intently. Her gaze was pleading, begging. She'd rarely heard her speak, but seeing her now, her eyes alone told Lucina all Lissa could ever say.

Torn between the two of them Lucina drew back.

"I..." She couldn't lie to her father. Not after he'd praised her so much. It would be a betrayal, not only to this version of him, but to all he'd taught her to be in the past. Brave. Determined. Always willing to do the right thing, no matter what got in her way.

"I..." But she didn't want to tell the truth either. It would mean crushing all the faith he had in her right now. She could see the fear in their eyes, how afraid they were that she would say "Yes. I killed your father." It would be the right thing to do, but was it really the best thing to do?

Lucina closed her eye. Her fists clenched by her sides, digging her nails into the cuts scattered over her palms, and her lips tugged down. She took a deep breath.

"No," she said. "No, I didn't do it."

She heard Chrom sigh. She peeked her eye open, and to her relief, she found him smiling once again.

Lucina smiled too, but it felt empty.

"You didn't?" he said, the energy slowly returning to his voice. "I knew it! It couldn't have been you, I just knew it!" Then his eyes widened, his grin fading as quickly as it had appeared. "The execution! They're still going to execute you! I have to tell my sister!"

"There's no need." Giving Chrom a reassuring smile, Lucina's gaze softened. "I already have a plan to get out."

"But if I tell my sister, you won't have to go! You can stay here! You can tell us more stories!"

Stay here? Stay home? Lucina bit her lip. That was something she hadn't even considered. There was nothing she would have wanted more.

But it would all be because of a lie. Emmeryn knew better. From all the conviction she'd shown at her hearing, Lucina didn't think she could be swayed.

"I can't stay." Shaking her head, Lucina tried to hold her lips in place. Tried not to show how much she wanted to say yes. "It's not that I don't want to, but I have people who need me."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do." Reaching through the bars, Lucina ruffled a hand through Chrom's hair, then Lissa's. "I'll miss you, and I promise you I'll come back someday, but right now, I need to go."

"Is that so?"

Lucina didn't think a voice soft like down and gentle like a spring breeze could ever sound so ice-cold, yet as she raised her gaze, it wasn't the only thing to surprise her.

Behind Chrom and Lissa, Emmeryn stood with her arms crossed. And though her mouth betrayed nothing, set in a perfectly flat line, her eyes blazed with fury.

Chapter Text

This was a dream. A very surreal, bizarre dream where the entire world had flipped on its head.

It was the only explanation she had, the only one she could cling to, if only to explain the sight of her dear siblings sitting before the woman who had killed their father.

Yes, that had to be it. Any second now, she would wake to find Tomas standing over her bed, ready to scold her for sleeping so late.

Instead, Chrom came running up to her. "Em, Em!" he said, tugging on her sleeve. "There's been a mistake!"

"A mistake, you say?" Emmeryn muttered. Her words felt foreign coming off her own tongue. "Chrom. Lissa. What are you doing here?"

"I was talking with her!" he said, looking up at her pleadingly. "You can't ek... eggs... you can't kill her! She didn't do anything wrong!"

"She didn't?" Something red and hot bubbled in her. Emmeryn narrowed her eyes, leveling her gaze upon the woman behind bars, and her father's killer looked to the floor, shuffling back.

"She's lying."

"What?!" Lucina could hear the shock in Chrom's voice, the conviction he'd held seconds ago crumbling away in an instant. She was just glad he couldn't see her wince. "How do you know?"

Emmeryn scowled. "I know because Captain Madeline told me so!"

Turning away from them, Lucina roused her tired muscles into pushing herself off the floor. Her arms trembled beneath her weight, her bones stiff and brittle like glass. It was a battle in itself to keep her eyes open. The effort it took just to drag herself forward felt like it would snap her arms in half, yet she forced herself on.

No matter what, she had to escape. She couldn't die here, not in the confines of her own home.

"But she's wrong! She has to be! Marth would never do anything bad like that!"

"Marth–" Emmeryn cut herself off. Lucina froze, afraid she'd been found out, but when she looked over her shoulder, Emmeryn's gaze was nowhere near her. Releasing the breath she'd held in her chest, Lucina turned back toward the other end of her cell.

Above, she heard footsteps. No doubt the Royal Guard were worried about the Exalt. When Emmeryn arrived alone, she guessed she might have run off from somewhere to find them. Back in her time, Frederick would never have allowed such a thing, so whoever was in charge of the Royal Guard now would be the same.

Her window of opportunity was growing smaller.

Lifting her gaze to the open window above her, Lucina's heart sank when she saw how far she still had left to go. Not only did she have a room to cross, but she also still needed to climb the wall.

A voice in her head told her she would never make it. With how badly her arms ached just from holding her up, the climb would be impossible. There was no way she'd ever make it in time.

But still, she had to try.

"That woman," Emmeryn growled, "is bad, and if she says she isn't, she is lying."

"But why?"

"Because I said so," Emmeryn said, raising her voice. "I'm your big sister, not her. You have to listen to me."

Mustering what little strength she had left, Lucina brought herself to her knees, then to her feet. She took one step forward. Then another. One after the other, step by step. Though her legs threatened to buckle under her with every passing second, she forced her feet to bring her closer to the open window.

Without warning, the cut on her side stabbed her with an invisible knife, and Lucina found herself falling. A pained cry escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"Gah!"

She caught herself before she hit the floor, but the damage was already done.

Emmeryn gasped. Lucina glanced over her shoulder, and she followed her gaze to the open window. A metal weight punched a hole through the bottom of her stomach. Behind her, Lucina could hear footsteps descending the stairs.

"Chrom! Lissa! Get back!" Emmeryn shouted.

Lissa scrambled to her side in an instant. One hand grabbed Chrom's shoulder and yanked him back. The other grasped at Falchion's hilt.

For a moment, Lucina was struck in awe by the image of her Aunt Emmeryn standing before her siblings, Falchion ready to draw. The steel in her eyes spoke of conviction she'd only seen in her father's eyes, and within the depths of her tired mind, she thought, So that's where father gets it from.

A pair of boots crashed down onto the stone floor over Emmeryn's shoulder. Lucina's eyes widened as the pegasus knight captain tore past Emmeryn. The lock snapped from the force she pulled it off with, and she practically ripped the cell door off its hinges. Lucina barely had time to let out a weak cry before the woman dragged her up by the arm.

Lucina struggled as much as her limbs would allow her. She punched, she hissed, and she flailed, but the pegasus knight didn't so much as flinch as her weak kicks bounced off plate armor, lifting her into the air without trouble.

"Your Grace," she said, not even making any indication she felt Lucina wriggle around in her grasp. "Are you unharmed? I heard a commotion, and I came as fast as I could."

"I'm fine," Emmeryn said, and she let out a sigh of relief. That it came at Lucina's expense brought a bitter feeling to her throat. "Thank you, Captain, but she did not have the chance to harm any of us."

Another pegasus knight stumbled into the room, apologizing profusely, followed by a boy, and a nobleman with bright red hair. None of them Lucina had seen before, none of them holding her attention as the room exploded into commotion.

"What are you doing?" Chrom shouted. "Let go of her!"

He tried to rush forward, but Emmeryn dragged him back. "Chrom."

Chrom threw her hand off his shoulder with an angry hiss. "Let me go! Can't you see you're hurting her?"

"CHROM!"

And in an instant, all the unwavering determination in Emmeryn's eyes came crashing down, leaving an angry little girl in her place.

"Get out!" Emmeryn screamed.

Chrom wilted. Even he was smart enough to realize he'd taken a step too far. "Em," he murmured, "sorry–"

"I said get out!" Her pale blue eyes swept over to the second pegasus knight standing by the door.

Meeting her glare with a nervous nod, the girl cleared her throat. "Your Highnesses. Come with me, your sister wants to be left alone."

"But..." Chrom's gaze flickered over to Emmeryn. When he saw all she had for him was a narrowed gaze, he gulped. "Alright," he mumbled.

With his eyes glued to the floor, he walked back up the stairs. Lissa stayed for a moment longer, shooting a worried look back to Emmeryn, then to Lucina, before the pegasus knight took her hand, and led her up the stairs after her brother. The boy trailed behind them, leaving Lucina alone with Emmeryn, the pegasus knight captain, and the red-haired nobleman.

The moment her siblings were out of sight, Emmeryn's anger evaporated. Her shoulders slumped, and she collapsed against the wall, her hair falling over her face in a messy golden cascade.

They remained like that for a bit. Lucina, dangling by her arm from the hold of the pegasus knight, Emmeryn sitting on the floor across from her. Seeing her aunt like this, Lucina couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

She had ordered her execution, of course, and if the way Emmeryn glared at her as if to burn a hole through her chest was any indication, she hated her with a passion. But she couldn't have been older than ten. With responsibilities heavy enough to bring even the strongest men to their knees thrust upon her shoulders before she could hold a sword properly, it was no wonder her decisions did not align with the person she truly was.

In a way, Lucina saw a little of herself in her.

"Your Grace," the pegasus knight captain said. "What would you like me to do with the prisoner?"

Emmeryn blinked, and she slowly lifted her gaze. "Ah. Take her upstairs, to the courtyard."

"As you wish."

"Wait."

Both the pegasus knight captain and Emmeryn glanced down at her. Emmeryn's eyes narrowed, but Lucina kept her gaze steady, refusing to look away for even a moment.

To her surprise, it was the nobleman who broke the silence. "Your Grace, hear this woman out. Whatever it is she has to say, it couldn't hurt to lend an ear."

Whoever this man was, his word seemed to hold some sort of sway over Emmeryn, and she stopped to think. Wordlessly, she looked to the pegasus knight captain for her word.

"I see no harm in it," the pegasus knight captain replied. "Your father was not someone who often turned anyone away for a chance to speak."

Emmeryn let out a sigh, and she slumped further down the wall. "Very well," she said, turning to Lucina. "Speak."

"Em–" Lucina bit her tongue. "Your Grace," she said, correcting herself. "Is this what you truly want?"

"What?" Emmeryn's face twisted into a scowl. "What do you think? You killed my father!"

The impulse to look away was there, but Lucina resisted it, holding her gaze. "But what if I hadn't?"

"What if you..."

"If you're wrong about me, then you won't ever be able to leave it behind."

Suddenly, Emmeryn didn't look so sure. She looked to the pegasus knight captain helplessly.

"It's her," the pegasus knight captain said. "I saw her flee the battlefield with my own eyes. I followed her trail myself."

"You can't know that was mine," Lucina protested. "What if I found her dead and took her clothes?"

"My knights didn't find anything that would suggest that."

"Did you search the village for anything?"

The pegasus knight's silence spoke for her. As she huffed, Emmeryn looked at her, shocked.

"You didn't check?"

"The Plegians were on our tail. We didn't have time. were on our tail, we didn't have time."

The Plegians followed me? Lucina tried not to let her sudden panic show on her face, though with Aunt Emmeryn's attention focused on the pegasus knight now, she hoped they wouldn't notice. I hope Uncle Robin and his mother are okay.

She shook her head. Now was not the time to get distracted.

"You can't know if you won't regret this," she said. "If you don't think this through, a decision like this will haunt you forever."

"No!" Emmeryn shouted. "You're just saying that. You can't know that."

"But I do." Lucina glanced between the pegasus knight captain and the nobleman, both of whom were staring intently at Emmeryn. "I know how awful it feels to have everyone around you telling you what to do, how terrifying it can feel to have the weight of the world put upon you when you least expect it. Gods know I was too."

"But if you force yourself to do things now, when everything feels like it's falling apart, you won't be able to stand on the choices you make once it's all finally settled down."

"You're just saying that," Emmeryn said again. This time, though, she sounded less sure of herself. "That can't be right, and... and even if it was, I have to do this!"

"Do you? Just because someone else claims it to be the right choice doesn't make it so."

"Then why should I believe you?"

"Because I've already made the same mistakes before, and I know what this path has to offer."

The grip on her wrist tightened, and Lucina winced as her bones pressed together.

"Your Grace," the pegasus knight said, "pay her words no heed. They are simply the ramblings of someone desperate to save their own life."

"I'm not trying to save my own life! I'm trying to save yours!" Erupting into another fit of struggles, Lucina said, "Can't you see how much Chrom hated it? How could you think anyone else would be different?"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Lucina's mouth clamped shut under Emmeryn's burning glare. The pegasus knight did too, and as Lucina watched Emmeryn burn holes into her with her eyes, it finally hit that this Emmeryn was not the woman she'd heard stories told. She was not the serene, forgiving leader who had died for Gangrel's war. She didn't have the same iron-clad moral conviction as she had in the future.

She was a child. She wasn't just afraid, she was terrified beyond reason, like an animal trapped in a corner with no other option than to fight.

Lucina had been mistaken. She wasn't lost. She was ready to attack. Lucina knew how that felt, knew how much the thought of avenging her father would drive her forward.

And she knew how hard it would be to steer her away from that path. It would take time, time she knew she might never get.

"Your Grace," a voice called from upstairs, eroded with age. "Is something the matter?"

An aged man descended the steps, green robes draped over his body, his face adorned with its share of wrinkles.

Lucina remembered him from before; she'd seen him at Emmeryn's side. From the way relief filled her face the moment she saw him, Lucina could tell Emmeryn seemed close to him.

"Tomas," she said quietly, "I... I'm fine. I'll be okay."

Just seeing him appeared to calm her down. The same could not be said for Lucina, her mind whirling a thousand miles a second. She was sure she'd heard the name before.

Tomas. One of Aunt Emmeryn's former advisors, and the man who had handed her over to the waiting blades of the Plegian assassins.

"You!"

All eyes were on Lucina in an instant. Right now, she was too tired to care. Her tired mind could only take in one thing at a time, and it was Tomas who had her full attention.

Maybe it was desperation, or maybe it was spite. Maybe it was a bitter mix of both that seized control of her mouth, but whatever it was had words flying out from her lips like a woman at the end of her wit.

"Why is he here? Why does he stand free? This man is in league with Plegia!"

Emmeryn clamped her hands around her ears. "I'm not listening!" she hissed. "Captain, take her upstairs! Now!"

The pegasus knight captain grunted in reply, her hands full with keeping Lucina tied down. Lucina didn't make it any easier for her, kicking and struggling as the pegasus knight dragged her past Emmeryn, past the nobleman, past Tomas, and through the door.

"Don't trust him!" Lucina yelled. "He'll be the death of you the moment you turn your back!"

The moment the wretched woman was out of sight, Emmeryn finally let her hands fall to her sides. She sighed, and a heavy weight lifted off her chest.

Tomas working with the Plegians. What a ridiculous thought. Tomas was her teacher and a trusted friend. There was no way he would go behind her back like that.

"The ramblings of someone wanting to save her own life," Emmeryn whispered, repeated Captain Madeline's words to herself. Her eyes followed her trail up the stairs, before they narrowed in anger.

"Maybe."

Startled, Emmeryn glanced back over at Lord Bartholomew. He'd been so quiet, she'd almost forgotten he was there. She thought he'd be mad, or disappointed at the very least, especially with how much he hadn't liked the execution, but all she found on his face was... sadness?

Closing his eyes, the nobleman let out a sigh and shook his head. He didn't say a word as he turned away, and he headed up the stairs in silence.

"Your Grace," Tomas said from beside her. "You don't look well."

"Do I?" Frowning, Emmeryn put a hand to her face. Her skin felt hot, burning with scraps of anger from before.

"I can tell you're dealing with so much. You can't let your people see you like this."

"Can't I?" Emmeryn asked again. "I feel just fine."

"Be it as you may, how do you think your people will think if they saw you like this? You must compose yourself first." Tomas paused. "Or, of course, you could let me run it for you. Take a rest and give me command of the execution."

"No," was her immediate answer.

Compose herself? How could she compose herself when she felt like this? She didn't want to "compose herself". She needed to make sure this woman got what she deserved because this was all her fault.

"So that's how it is," Tomas mumbled.

"Huh?"

Tomas blinked. His gentle smile was back on his face in an instant, and he waved her aside. "Forget you heard that. My mind wandered off for a moment there, it's nothing you need to worry about."

Emmeryn tilted her head, her brows pulled down in concern. In the end, though, there wasn't anything she could do about it, so she smiled back.

"Okay," she said. "Should we go upstairs now?"

"You can go ahead," Tomas replied. "I'll be with you shortly."

Emmeryn nodded. She turned around and headed back toward the door, but as she climbed up, she couldn't shake the feeling that something still wasn't quite right. Not when she could feel someone's gaze drill right into her back.

Chapter Text

Mother didn't leave her room very often. Not for food, not for rest, and certainly not for social contact. Miriel was pretty sure she would have starved to death already if she hadn't come every day to feed her.

The only time her mother ever left her room was when she ran out of ink or writing quills. It was a little annoying, especially when she disappeared before Miriel could eat with her. Annoying, but not awful. Miriel was used to it, and she could usually figure out when it was going to happen.

Which was why it was so strange when Miriel pushed open the door to find a full inkwell sitting on her mother's desk, her mother herself nowhere in sight.

Now, Miriel was not a girl who worried a lot. Whenever something bad happened, there was always a reason why. This was just like the time she'd mistook the rats in the hall for a ghost, or the time she'd thought the cloak on her bedpost was a monster trying to eat her. Surely there was no need to worry.

"Mother?" she said.

All she heard was silence.

Turning around, Miriel poked her head out the door to scan the hall. "Mother?" she said again.

She still received no response.

So she wasn't in her room, and she wasn't anywhere nearby. That would be fine, but the stationary closet was just around the corner, and if she wasn't there...

Where was she?

Closing the door behind her, Miriel did the only thing she knew to do in the situation: she set her tray beside her, and she sat down to wait.

As the servants passed by her, a few stopped to give her odd looks. Miriel ignored them. They weren't her mother. When her mother returned, they would eat together, and her mother would teach her all about–

An odd scrap of blue passed her vision. Miriel looked up just in time to see her mother stride past, a bundle of quills gripped tightly within her arms.

Miriel looked at her, then looked back at the door. As her mother disappeared around the corner, she frowned. The door to her room was clearly next to her. Why would she miss it?

Unless something was wrong.

Jumping to her feet, her food forgotten for the moment, Miriel took off after her.

"Mother," she said as soon as she'd caught up, "what is the matter?"

Her mother didn't reply, clearly too wrapped up in her thoughts to hear her. Whatever it was, it must have been bad.

Miriel decided to stay quiet. Her mother didn't like it when people interrupted her thoughts, after all.

Not that anyone else cared. Turning corners, walking through courtyards, wherever she and her mother went, people stopped to watch. When they passed, they whispered to each other, as if her mother was a strange animal out of her cage.

Miriel thought it was rude of them, but she didn't question her mother, not until they stopped at a balcony looking out into the city.

Overhead, the sun scorched the deck with its blinding light. Mother hated the sun, so much so that the other children incorrectly believed she was some sort of creature of the night, yet this time she stepped out without so much as a second thought.

Miriel trailed after her to the ledge. As her mother peered over it, Miriel pulled herself higher to do the same. A large crowd had gathered in the square just down the road and stood upon a wooden platform in the middle, a chocolate-haired woman Miriel recognized as the Captain of the Pegasus Knights reached out over the townsfolk, her voice muffled by the distance.

Even so, Miriel had seen enough of these to know what it was.

"Mother, why are they holding an execution? Does this have something to do with Uncle Alabaster?" she asked. She looked to her mother for answers, but her mother's eyes were dead set on the courtyard below.

"No. Not him," she muttered.

Confused, Miriel followed her gaze to what as very clearly a woman standing just behind the platform, her arms tied behind her back. Long strands of blue hair blocked her face from view, but Miriel thought she could still make out large splotches on her coat.

"It can't be him," her mother mumbled again. "Too much of her blood. Too close to her line." She paused. "Unless..."

"Unless what?" Miriel asked, only growing more confused by the second.

"Unless unless..."

Suddenly, her mother fell silent. The corners of her lips clawed their way up the side of her face inch by inch, and her lips peeled back into a smile.

In her arms, her bundle of quills broke in two.

"Hah. Ha ha ha." Her mother took a step back from the ledge, grinning from ear to ear. "Insanity," she whispered. "Absolutely ludicrous. Simone, you've finally lost it, you gullible little girl. Ha ha. And to think, for a moment, he could have won. To think..."

"Mother, what's wrong? You're not making any sense!"

Her mother giggled once more, and without warning, her legs snapped like twigs beneath her weight.

Miriel's eyes flew wide, her mouth hanging open. Fear held her heart in its crushing grip, holding her in place at the sight of her mother lying motionless on the floor.

Her reason only caught up with her body a second later. Her legs were the first to move, bending down so her arms could reach for her mother's side. Then her lungs took in a shuddering breath, forcing her heart to start again until, at last, words began to form in her mouth.

"Help!" she cried out. "Somebody help!"

In the halls behind her, she could hear the servants who had heard her call rushing out. As they gathered around to lift her mother in their arms, by accident, Miriel glanced back over to the courtyard.

No one down there had seen anything at all, too focused on the pegasus knight captain to even notice her. That is, no one but the girl with the blue hair.

Miriel could feel her gaze on her and only her. Almost as if she knew something Miriel didn't.

The servants could not have dragged her back inside fast enough.

Lucina could feel everyone's eyes on her. No matter where she looked, someone was watching her. The people in the crowd, the few knights stationed around them, even the castle itself looming in the distance, all of them staring at her, judging her.

Some looked at her in curiosity, others in anger. A few regarded her in fear.

She tore her eyes away quickly. What they thought of her didn't matter, she tried to tell herself. They had no idea what she had been through, what this was all for.

Vaguely she was aware of the pegasus knight captain speaking on the stage. Though she had her fair share of attention, most of it was on the captain.

Surely no one would notice if she slid the blade hidden in her sleeve into her hand.

Trying not to wince at the pain of metal cutting into her skin, Lucina started to furiously saw away at the ropes binding her hands together. She didn't have time to take it slow, not like she did with the cell bars. Her time was running out, and if they saw her now, well, she would be dead either way.

"–bring the prisoner down to the block!"

Lucina froze. For a moment, she feared she might have been caught, but when she looked up at her, the pegasus knight's eyes were on the executioner behind her.

"Don't look at me, it was a last-minute decision," the pegasus knight captain hissed.

Lucina heard the executioner grunt. Her fingers closed around the knife as he dragged her to her feet, and he began to lead her forward.

The pegasus knight captain stepped down from the platform as they approached, and as she walked past, Lucina caught her muttering, "Now where in Ylisse has Helena run off to now?"

Once she was sure she was out of sight, Lucina continued to cut at her bindings. As more and more people turned to look at her, she prayed to Naga none of them would happen to glance down at her hands.

There was no cry of alarm. No one so much as made a peep over the dull droning of the crowd, even as they neared the stage. Lucina's hands worked faster with each step. She tried to keep her eyes as far away from her hands as possible, when she noticed the metal glint of an arrowhead perched over the crowd aimed at the pegasus knight captain's back.

"Look out!"

Her body moved on her own. Without thinking, Lucina threw herself in front of the arrow's path. The executioner growled, dragged along with her, and the knife fell from her hands.

But the arrow never came.

"What…" Lucina's eyes widened, and she quickly realized everyone's eyes were now focused on her. If they weren't looking before, they were now. With all this attention, there could be no more hiding the knife at her feet.

The executioner didn't so much as give her a word before he continued to pull her along.

Lucina tried not to cry out in despair, regretting her mistake immediately. She had no reason to save the pegasus knight captain. She didn't even know who she was, so what would she care if she took an arrow to the back?

She was so stupid. Her friends had always told her that her tendency to rush headfirst into action without a second thought would get her killed, and as the executioner forced her down against the chopping block, it finally hit her that her mistake had just cost her her life.

Turning to face the side, Lucina caught Emmeryn's gaze by chance, the captain and the red-haired nobleman from before by her side, Falchion strapped to her hip. She saw Emmeryn's eyes widen, saw the conflict that flashed within them. In the end, Emmeryn turned away, leaving Lucina to her fate alone.

No.

No, Lucina had not come all this way just to die by her grandfather's executioner. Even as the executioner grabbed his axe, she struggled in his grasp. No matter how hopeless it seemed, no matter how tired she was, giving up was not an option. She would escape, or she would die trying.

This would not be the end.

She would change fate.

The axe raised, blade gleaming in the afternoon sun. Lucina clenched her eyes shut.

Thunk.

Steel clattered over the cobblestone. Before her, the crowd gasped in surprise. Surprise quickly morphed into terrified screams, and Lucina opened her eyes just in time to see a volley of arrows rain down upon the courtyard, striking against the floor, the walls around them, and the few unlucky civilians standing in their way.

With the executioner's weight no longer keeping her down, Lucina craned her neck over to see Emmeryn rush to the fallen man's side, an arrow buried in his shoulder. The pegasus knight captain and the guards scrambled to assemble before her with their weapons drawn, Lucina momentarily forgotten.

As the crowd thinned in its panicked frenzy, who else would step through but a familiar man in green, his own regiment of knights by his side, twice as large as Emmeryn's own guard.

"Tomas!" Emmeryn cried. "What is the meaning of this?"

From the shock clear on her face, it was obvious she hadn't listened to a word Lucina had said. Tomas had, though, if the furious look he was directing at her was any indication, and for a moment, Lucina felt a twinge of guilt for it.

Because of her, he had ended up turning against her years too early.

"I'm so sorry, Your Grace," he spat in reply. "I never wanted it to come to this, but this halidom needs direction if we are to continue to stand our ground against Plegia, direction only I can provide."

"Tomas, please!" Emmeryn begged. "I don't want to fight. Don't do this."

The man scoffed. "I have no other choice. Your father never listened to a word I said. I thought I might have trained you to be wiser, but it seems if I want to have my way, drastic measures must be taken."

Emmeryn shook her head vigorously. "No, you're wrong! If you had just told me, I would have listened!"

"Not with her at your ear." With a sneer, Tomas leveled an accusing finger at the pegasus knight captain.

His knights charged forward with a roar.

Emmeryn's eyes widened as Tomas's soldiers rushed toward them. Their weapons shone wickedly in the sun, each and every one of them capable of killing someone as the people holding them yelled out for her blood.

"Guards!" Captain Madeline barked. "Protect the Exalt!"

A wall of shields rose before them to meet the advancing line of knights. Steel struck against steel with a horrible screech, and the square erupted into chaos. Blades thrown in every direction. Men and women crying out as steel swords and lances found their mark between gaps of armor.

Just seeing it made Emmeryn feel sick.

A rough hand caught her before she could fall, jolting her back to reality. Captain Madeline gave her an assuring pat on the shoulder, and she pushed her back toward Lord Bartholomew.

"You!" she said, leveling her gaze at the red-haired nobleman. "Grab her Grace and retreat into the streets."

Lord Bartholomew nodded, but as he reached for Emmeryn, she pulled away.

"What about the executioner?" she asked, and she glanced down at his fallen form in concern. "We can't just leave him here."

"The executioner?" Captain Madeline followed her gaze, and she made a sound when she saw him groaning at her feet.

Her shock was short-lived, and she barely made a sound as she dragged the larger man and hefted him over her shoulder.

"Come now," she said, and she nodded back to the street leading to the castle. "I'm not sure how much longer the royal guard can hold the line. We must make haste if we are to–"

"Arrows!" the prisoner blurted out.

The captain cursed and spun around. Another volley of arrows took to the sky from the courtyard. They rained down on the nights like hailstones, bouncing harmlessly of their thick armor. They didn't stop there, though, zipping past the knights and peppering the cobblestone like an ocean wave drawing closer with each passing second.

"Take cover!" Without another word, the captain threw herself and the prisoner behind one of the buildings. The nobleman followed, tucking Emmeryn into an alleyway behind him as a storm of arrows poured onto the street where they had been moments ago.

"Captain Madeline!" Emmeryn cried over the sounds of fighting. "W-what do we do?"

Captain Madeline gritted her teeth. Letting go of the prisoner, she poked her head out and glanced back down the street.

"They've got us badly outnumbered," she said. "I don't think the royal guard will be able to hold for much longer."

Fear squeezed Emmeryn's chest tight. "What?!"

"We'll never make it back to the castle in time, not while we're within range of their archers. Gods dammit, where are our own archers?"

"Tomas must have sent them away," the nobleman replied. "I thought it suspicious how much of the royal guard were being sent out on patrol."

"Why couldn't you have stopped them, then?"

"By the time I realized, it was far too late for me to do anything about it!"

"Please stop it!" Emmeryn shouted, and she stepped between them. "I don't want you to fight too!"

The captain and the nobleman paused. Exchanging glances, a silent message passed between them.

The nobleman let his shoulders fall with a sigh. "My apologies, now is not the time to be bickering."

"My apologies as well," the captain said. "Right now, our main priority should be to find a way to seek aid."

An alarmed shout came from one of the knights. The captain peeked out onto the street, before she reached back and shoved Emmeryn away.

"Get back!"

No sooner had the words left her lips, an axe swept across the entrance to the alleyway. It cut through the wooden beams supporting the buildings on either side. A great knight towered above them, his blue armor shining in the afternoon sun.

The bright red emblem shone brightly on his breast, depicting a pattern of swirls, one Emmeryn recognized immediately.

Captain Madeline reached down to her side. From a sheathe at her hip, she pulled out a dagger. Emmeryn watched as, with a cry, she charged at a man almost twice her size. His axe came down, only to meet nothing but air.

Bits of stone showered the street as the knight's axe crashed into the side of a house. Captain Madeline slid under his blow, and she thrust her dagger toward his back.

Her face impacted the back of an armored elbow with a crack. Emmeryn gasped as Captain Madeline fell, one hand to her jaw. The knight wrenched his axe free. He spun around and, without missing a beat, raised his axe again.

Emmeryn's hand fell to the sword at her side. She hadn't a clue how to use it, but she had to do something!

As it turned out, she didn't need to worry.

"Flux!"

A cloud of dark magic purple exploded over the back of his head. The knight's head jerked down. He grunted, more from the hit than from any real pain, but it was enough to send him stumbling forward. Right into the tip of the captain's waiting dagger.

There was a crunch. A spurt of blood. The captain tore her weapon out from beneath his helmet, and he collapsed into a heap beside them.

Seeing the growing pool of red beneath him, Emmeryn's hands flew to her mouth. Her lunch threatened to fly out. She had to distract herself, so she fixed her eyes on the crest he wore instead.

"House Redwind," she muttered, shaken. "I know that crest. These are House Redwind's soldiers. What are they doing here?"

"I'm sure Lord Reginus can give us an explanation after this, but right now, we have more pressing matters at hand." Sliding her dagger back into its sheathe, Captain Madeline yelled, "Men, fall back!"

She grabbed the prisoner again, dragging both her, Lord Bartholomew, and Emmeryn out onto the street. Once again, arrows took to the sky, but the captain pressed them up against the retreating knights, staying behind their cover.

Once the arrows stopped, and they had a moment to breathe, Captain Madeline turned to Lord Bartholomew. "You know magic?"

"I've dabbled."

"What tomes do you have on you?"

The nobleman huffed, patting down his pockets. "A flux tome, a fire tome, and a wind tome."

"Do you think you could boost me up on the roof with a wind spell? If I can get up there, I should be able to track down the nearest patrol."

That gave Lord Bartholomew a pause. He glanced up at the rooftops high above, and his eyes narrowed.

"I think I can," he said after a moment of thought, and from his robes, he produced a blue-green tome.

"Captain Madeline, wait!" Emmeryn said, and she grabbed at the captain's arm. "Don't go! We'll die without you!"

The captain hesitated. She shuffled her feet, and for a moment, she almost seemed uncomfortable. "You'll be safe," she said, and she placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I won't be long, so... don't you worry about it."

Snapping her attention back to the nobleman, she said, "Blast me up."

"Right now?"

"Of course I mean right now. We haven't got time to dawdle like this!"

The captain jumped. The nobleman flung a blast of wind at her feet. Emmeryn kept her eyes on Captain Madeline as she flew over the rooftops. A few arrows whizzed past her, but Captain Madeline ducked and wove through them, and before Emmeryn could blink, she had disappeared.

Leaving Emmeryn alone with a battle raging on behind her, and the weight of everyone's lives in her hands.

Chapter Text

"Fall back!"

A panicked shout rose from the knights. Like a wave of armor, the seventeen of them remaining scrambled away from the bright red flames splattered over the road. Against magic, their armor would offer little protection, and it showed from the way they pushed back, forcing her, Emmeryn, and the nobleman away as well amidst a storm of hands and elbows.

"Mage!" someone yelled.

Lucina didn't think that needed saying, not as she watched another Elfire spell arc through the air and crash into their ranks. Flames scorched against their armor. As the front line stumbled, Tomas' knights were quick to charge in.

Lances and shields flew left and right. Blades scraped against plates of heavy armor with a horrible screech. Splotches of red marked steel spearheads whenever they found their mark, and as the Royal Guard finally pulled away, among the dead, Lucina caught a glimpse of another dead guardsman among the corpses.

Only sixteen remained. Emmeryn was going to lose.

Lucina didn't have to be as sharp as Uncle Robin to realize that. Only the best knights made it into the Royal Guard, that she had no doubts about, but the Redwind knights held the advantage of sheer numbers. Out here on the streets, they would be whittled down one by one until they were too tired to defend themselves.

Being badly outnumbered was nothing she hadn't faced before, but there wasn't much she could do, tied up as she was.

"Untie me."

"What?" Emmeryn's gaze snapped onto her, absolutely appalled by the suggestion.

Lucina met her eyes, unwavering in the face of Emmeryn's burning glare. She'd hate the idea, Lucina knew, but amidst that fear, she caught that same flicker of fear and panic she'd seen down in the dungeon.

"I'm–" Lucina hissed as another Elfire spell tore into the road, the force of the blast blowing a gust through the line of knights. "I'm no stranger to uphill battles," she said. "Set me free, and I'll gladly join your side."

"No," Emmeryn said, clenching her fists. "No! I don't need your help!"

Lucina's eye narrowed. Leaning as far as her bonds allowed her to, Lucina looked Emmeryn in the eye. "You're badly outnumbered and outmatched, and you don't have a clue what to do."

"I... I do!"

"Do you?"

"Yeah!" Emmeryn's shoulders lifted, and she rose to the challenge. "Tomas! He taught me all about it! War and stuff."

"And where is Tomas now?" Lucina said, nodding back toward where she'd last seen him. "Your Grace. He is trying to kill you."

"Kill me?" Emmeryn looked taken aback. Shaking her head, she said, "No. No, Tomas would never do that!"

"That's not what it looks like to me."

"That's because you don't know him!" Lucina's eye widened. She leaned back as Emmeryn stepped toward her, her gaze burning with anger. "You don't know him at all! Tomas–he served under my father for over forty years! Not for one of those years has he ever taken a day to stop working, not even when he was sick, and he has been by my side for my entire life. He is patient, he is wise, he is everything I need to be–"

"And you don't know a thing about him either."

Emmeryn froze. "What?"

"You heard me. You don't know a thing about him."

"No, you're wrong!"

"Then who is he?"

"He's my teacher, and my father's loyal advisor!"

"And?"

"And he taught me everything I know!"

"And?"

"And... And he served under my father for over forty years," she said again. This time, though, she sounded less sure.

"A person can hide a lot in forty years," Lucina shot back.

A voice in the back of her head told her to stop, told her to be patient. The girl in front of her was nothing more than that: a girl.

But Lucina had spent the last week being patient, and she was done with it. Here and now, this was her last chance to get through to Emmeryn, and by the Gods she was going to take it and run as far as she could go.

"You can know a person for their entire life. You can think the world of them, look up to them from as far back as you could remember, but if you never get the chance to truly know them, they won't hesitate to leave you for dead the first chance she gets."

Someone cried out. Another blast of fire magic licked the floor, another body hit the floor. Fifteen left.

Again, the Redwind knights surged forward. Firelight trickled through the line of knights defending them, casting Emmeryn's face in a red glow.

Emmeryn's shoulders fell. Doubt swam in the glossy moisture over her eyes, and for a moment, a pang of guilt passed through Lucina's heart. She needed Emmeryn to see she had no other option but to set her free, but seeing her like this: directionless and confused.

She really was more like her than she'd have ever thought.

"Emmeryn," she said, softer now, "you need to face things as they are. If you don't, and if Tomas does kill you, who do you think he'll go after next?"

Emmeryn turned away.

"Captain Madeline said she was going to get help. She'll be back, she has to!"

"And what will you do until then?"

"...I don't know."

"If you don't want to die, you need to use every advantage you have. Be willing to do whatever it takes to stay out of reach, no matter the cost. Right now, I'm willing to help you out if you'll set me free, your father's killer or not. What will you do, Your Grace?"

"I... I'll win this." Emmeryn pushed her away with a scowl. "I'll win this, and I'll do it without your help. You'll see."

Emmeryn couldn't see how she won this. She had learned battle tactics from Tomas, that was no lie, but learning about it and actually having to do it were two different things. Everywhere she looked was a mess of steel, fire, and blood. All the shouting, all the noise was invading her head, cutting her thoughts to ribbons.

She couldn't think like this!

"Lord Bartholomew!" she asked desperately. "What do I do?"

"Your Grace, I–" The nobleman but himself off to hurl another Flux spell at the enemy. "Your Grace, I am hardly the sharpest when it comes to battle tactics."

"Please, can't you try?"

That gave him a pause. Ducking behind cover, Lord Bartholomew looked all around them. His red eyes scanned over the brawling knights, the scorched cobblestone road, before finally stopping at the homes towering over them.

"The walls." He pointed up at them. "We have to bring them down."

Emmeryn followed his gaze, and her eyes widened. Of course! She'd been so dumb not to think of that. "If they can't reach us, we can still win!" Then she paused. "But... everyone else won't like it."

"Your Grace, I don't believe we should be worried about that right now! If we are to survive, we must push through!"

No matter the cost, the prisoner's words burned in her mind. Emmeryn glanced back at her from the corner of her eye. Her brows were pulled down, watching carefully.

Was this what she was looking for?

"We can't," Emmeryn said

"What?"

"We can't!" she said again, louder. "There has to be another way! Or... or–"

"Arcfire!"

Another blast cut her off. She flinched and looked away. Wind rushed past her face, blowing her hair to the side. Heat washed over her. All around, weapons clattered to the side as a bright orange painted the walls.

Emmeryn pulled her arm away from her face to see the hole blown wide open in the line of Royal Guards. Three more bodies littered the floor.

She froze. The entire battlefield was in her view, from the knights throwing themselves against the Royal Guard, to the fires raging in the streets. The tips of a dozen arrowheads returned her gaze through the cracks.

And they were headed straight for her.

"Your Grace! Look out!" Lord Bartholomew lunged for her. He reached out his hand, but he was too far away to reach her.

Something bit down on her arm. Emmeryn barely had time to gasp, barely had time to think as she was dragged down to the floor.

The arrows flew overhead just as her back slammed into the road. She looked over her shoulder to see the prisoner, her teeth clamped around her arm.

She'd saved her. Against everything she had done, she'd still saved her life.

"Lord Bartholomew!" Emmeryn yelled, words tumbling out of her mouth as fast as they could as her heart pounded in her chest. "Bring down the walls!"

Trails of dark magic hurled through the air, curling clouds of purple haze around walls of stone and wooden support beams. One, two, then three blasts struck the buildings around them.

Dust hailed onto the streets. Cracks split the wooden beams down the middle, crawling higher and higher until, with a groan, the walls came crashing down in a torrent of bricks and splinters.

Panicked shouts rose from the knights as a thick cloud of dirt swallowed them up. One by one, Royal Guards stumbled back into a line of ten. The Redwind knights did the same through the smoke. Between them, a field of rubble blocked the road.

Lucina breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, the noise stopped. For a moment, she could breathe.

Why Emmeryn hesitated to bring down the walls, she wasn't sure.

Something twitched in her mouth. Lucina looked down, and it was then that she remembered she had yet to let go of Emmeryn's arm.

As soon as she spat it out, the girl wiped her sleeve over her shirt.

Lucina took the chance to ask, "Are you unharmed?"

"I... I think so," Emmeryn said, and she looked herself up and down.

As she did her eyes strayed back to the Royal Guards muttering uneasily in front of them. A delicate hand, so clearly untouched by the harsh world, came up to brush a stray strand of hair out of her eye. A trickle of blood passed over her pale skin, unnoticed.

"Please, let me help," Lucina said. When Emmeryn glanced back at her, she could still see a faint flicker of fear pass through her eyes, but she didn't shy away as she had before.

It was something.

"Help me?" she muttered. "Why... why would you help me? You killed–you killed my father."

"We're all in this together, aren't we?"

Emmeryn's mouth opened. Then it closed. Emotions flashed across her face, confusion, surprise, anger.

Lucina could already see the answer forming on her lips: a firm denial. She winced and looked away. Maybe she'd pushed too hard?

"I don't know," Emmeryn said instead.

Lucina blinked, surprised. When she turned her head up, Emmeryn moved her gaze away.

"I just don't know." Her fists clenched.

"Emmeryn. Trusting me is your only choice right now," Lucina said.

"Trust you?"

"Yes," Lucina nodded. "I can help you. I want to help you."

"You... you want to help me?" Emmeryn glanced at the rope binding Lucina's arms. She tore her eyes away almost instantly, but Lucina had seen her look, she had seen her consider. "No. No, I'm not going to–"

Then someone cried out. "Backup! We need backup!"

Emmeryn's eyes widened, and she snapped her attention across the field of rubble. Lucina followed her gaze. Just on the other side, a pair of Royal Guards stood back to back, their lances brandished against the countless Redwind knights surrounding them.

The Redwind knights descended upon them like a flock of wyverns.

"Joseph!" One of the Royal Guards on their side reached a hand out despairingly. "Hold on, I'm coming for you!"

"Wait! Don't go!" Emmeryn tried to say, but her small voice dwindled before it could reach their ears.

A knight broke away, running into the field of rubble with a shout. Another followed, then another. Emmeryn could do nothing to stop them, her protests too weak to reach their ears as one by one, the line dissolved into a half-hearted charge.

"Elfire!"

Then the fireballs started hailing from the sky.

Someone screamed, flung into the air by a wave of fire. A cloud of dust scattered over the ground, and ten became nine. Two of the guards gave a panicked shout. Armored feet kicked through the rubble, men scrambling to duck behind cover. Most of them managed to avoid being hit. A few of them weren't so lucky.

Guard number nine flew back, his chestplate bent by the heat. Another blast threw guards eight and seven into a wall, plates of their armor ripped apart.

And Emmeryn watched, helpless to act as everything fell apart.

"I'll do it," she blurted out. She fixed her gaze on Lucina, resolved. "I'll set you free."

Falchion let out a silky hiss as it drew free from its sheath. Lucina trailed after it with her eye, and, without a word, raised her bindings to Emmeryn.

With a single swipe, Falchion's blade cleaved the rope in two. The cord flopped to the floor, and as Lucina rubbed the red marks on her wrist, she shot Emmeryn a grateful look.

"Thank you," she bowed her head. "I promise you won't regret this."

"Please, just protect me already!" Emmeryn said, waving her hand behind her.

"Of course!" Without a moment to lose, Lucina jumped to her feet.

An Elfire spell slammed into her chest before she could take a step, and a blistering heat tore into her skin.

Emmeryn watched in horror as the girl tumbled past her, her clothes a burning mess, before coming to a sudden stop over the wall with a sickening crunch.

Emmeryn looked back across the field. Tomas's grin was there to meet her, wrinkled and just the tiniest bit crooked.

She'd never seen that look on his face before. It scared her.

"Elfire!"

His arm thrust toward her. Fire erupted from his fingertips. Her eyes wide, she stood frozen as the flickering streak of fire got bigger by the second, her feet stuck to the floor and her fingers squeezing the hilt of the sword in her hands.

He was really trying to kill her.

Falchion swept up to protect her, batting the attack away with a sputtering sound. The force almost ripped her hands off her arms.

Tomas didn't stop there. Of course he wouldn't. Spell after spell hurled itself at Falchion, each one coming closer than the last to tearing it from her grasp. With each step back, Emmeryn glanced around wildly, searching for someone who could save her, anyone who could save her.

Among the rubble, the Royal Guard struggled against the oncoming wave of knights as they surged through, and six became five. Lord Bartholomew was huddled down not even twenty feet away, a fallen wooden beam the only thing between him and a shower of arrows. And behind her, the girl from before lay sprawled across the street, the slow rise of her chest the only sign she was still alive.

Another fireball slammed into Falchion's blade. Red hot strings curled around the metal, flicking sparks into her arms. Without meaning to, her hands let go. Falchion hurled away, far from her reach, and bounced off the girl's unconscious body.

Her gaze snapped to Tomas. His scary grin grew wide, drawing her heart up into her chest. His hand raised one last time. Orange sparks danced in her eyes.

"Wait!" she yelled.

Tomas looked back with a scowl. His hand closed around the half-formed spell, snuffing it out with a hiss.

"Wait?" he snarled. "I've waited forty years for this chance, and I've had enough. I refuse to wait another second, not for you to listen, and certainly not for you to burn away."

"You can't!" Blinking away the faintest trace of wetness, Emmeryn shook her head. "Tomas, please just wait! Can't you remember all the time I spent with you? Does all that mean nothing to you? Do I mean nothing to you?"

"No."

It hurt to hear that. Like a fist buried into her stomach, it left her reeling. But she refused to look away.

"You have served your purpose. I have no need for you now." The corners of his lips twitched up. "But, it doesn't have to end in your death. If you surrender now, I'll let you and your family leave with your lives. A much more pleasant idea, wouldn't you agree?"

Emmeryn stopped. They couldn't leave. If they left, where could they go? Who could keep them safe?

"No. We can't leave."

Tomas just sighed. "A shame."

He tucked his sleeves in. Unfurled his hands. He flicked his arm out, and with a shout of "Elfire!" sent one last fireball toward her.

A snap cut through the air, magic meeting metal. Wisps unfurled out from the touch. A faint trail of smoke clutched weakly to life, and with a faded crackle, vanished in the breeze.

Emmeryn opened her eyes. A single blue eye looked back, a storm of green shimmering and twisting inside them. Fierce, heavenly power radiated from inside.

Her cape fluttering behind her, her deep blue hair flowing like a river, the girl stood guard, her lips set in an unbreakable line. Though patches of her clothes had burned away and scorched lines ran down her chest, Emmeryn could see no wear in her skin. It was as if the spell, the same one she had seen send her flying, had never touched her.

Before her, Falchion glowed brightly.

Tomas's eyes grew to the size of the moon, his mouth agape.

"That's–that's not possible!" he stuttered. "You–how did you–Only members of the Royal bloodline can wield that blade. Just who are you?"

"I," Lucina growled, her voice seeping with power, "am Marth."

A shout tore from her lips as she charged.

That seemed to shock Tomas back into action. He fumbled back. His hands scrambled to pry open the tome in his hands, and the spell's incantation burst out from his lips.

"Elfire!"

Again, a bolt of magic erupted from his hands. Lucina cut through it, and again, it fizzled away.

She could feel her wounds closing with every step she took. Energy surged through her, and as the burns spread over her skin faded into a cool touch, her muscles, tired and weary not moments before, rushed to life.

Tomas only grew more desperate. He stumbled, he tripped, and he kept moving back, anything to get away from her.

"Elfire!" he cast again.

Lucina swiped it away with ease.

"Elfire!"

His attack flung itself straight into the path of Falchion's gleaming blade.

"A-archers!" he screamed, a third spell forming in his hands. "Shoot her! Shoot her!"

Over his shoulder, Lucina saw a group of archers aim at her. Their arrows drew back on the bowstring. She twisted her blade to the side, watching and waiting for them to make their move.

The first archer lurched forward. His bow clattered to the ground. He reached a hand up, pawing pathetically at his back, before his face struck the floor, a bright yellow javelin impaled through him.

The archers, seeing one of their own fall, spun around as fast as they could. Lucina, on the other hand, couldn't say she had ever been happier to see the Pegasus Knights drop down from the sky, shredding the archers before they could let their arrows fly like a giant white beast.

A flash of red entered her view. A Redwind knight, clutching his side, staggered into her path. Specks of blood dribbled over the floor as he wrenched his lance free from another knight's chest. She didn't slow down for him. By the time he saw her coming, it was too late.

A single silver line drew through the air. Falchion cut through armor, flesh, and bone. As the knight's body toppled to the floor, Lucina pushed on through.

With the archers gone, the Pegasus Knights turned their weapons to the Redwind knights. Lances rained down as if they were carried by hurricane winds. They struck against armor, plowed lines through the debris. Split between the dwindling Royal Guard and the Pegasus Knights, the Redwind knights could do nothing to defend themselves against the onslaught.

One by one, steel spearheads found their mark through the armor. One by one, the Redwind knights fell.

But Lucina only had eyes for Tomas.

His foot caught on a stone. The spell he cast flew over Lucina's head. In his other hand, the Elfire tome crumpled, its rich red cover turning to an ashen grey.

"Mercy!" Tomas shrieked.

His cry fell on deaf ears. Lucina leaped forward with a shout. She leveled Falchion's tip over his chest, and she thrust it forward.

Tomas hurled the expired tome at her. The spine slammed into her, and the last traces of magic grazed her chest. A pained grunt slipped through her lips. A cool feeling pooled over her wound and, in seconds, it was gone.

It hadn't hurt, but it had been enough to throw her off. She slipped, barely keeping Falchion from flying out of her grip.

Above her, she saw Tomas reach into his robes and pull out an Arcfire tome. Tongues of fire licked his hands. A blinding yellow light burst to life over the palm of his hand.

A silver tip pierced through his chest. Eyes wide, Tomas glanced down at the blood oozing through his robes. He took in a shuddering breath. With a cough, his legs gave out, leaving him to collapse onto the floor.

And Lucina found herself standing before the Pegasus Knight captain, towering over her with a bloodied lance.

"Your Grace, are you safe!?"

Lord Bartholomew rushed to her side the moment all was calm once again. He reached for her, before he stopped, thought better of it, and looked her over instead. She could see his worried gaze scan over her, feel it stop at every dirty smudge on her yellow robes.

"I'm fine," she said, brushing it off. She could worry about how she looked like later; what she was worried about right now was the girl who had saved her. She had lost sight of her right after she...

She...

Her eyes drifted over to the armored body sprawled over the ground. Just the sight of it made her sick, and yet she couldn't look away.

Emmeryn had seen the girl slice through a man with Falchion like it was nothing. It should have glanced harmlessly off his armor; Falchion would not cut for anyone not a part of the royal family.

And yet, it had cut for this girl.

"Lord Bartholomew," she whispered. "You don't think she could be..."

The nobleman followed her gaze, and when he saw the body, he shuddered. "I... I don't know. There's a slim chance–a very slim chance, but I'm afraid I can't say for sure."

Someone cried out. It took Emmeryn a second to recognize the voice, and when she did, she gasped. Emmeryn ran forward, pushing through the few remaining Royal Guard as she stepped over the mounds of debris.

She found Captain Madeline sitting over a pile of stone bricks, a stunned expression on her face. In her hands, she held a headless silver lance. She almost cried with relief.

Falchion stood to her right, its blade plunged into the ground.

"Captain Madeline!" she said, coming to a stop by her side. "Where is she?"

"Ah... where is who?"

"The girl! Marth!"

Captain Madeline blinked. "She pushed me down and ran. Where to, I can't say." She started at her broken weapon, then over to Falchion. "Your Grace. I hope you don't mind me asking, but... who is she?"

"That's what I need to ask her!" Emmeryn looked up at her with pleading eyes. "Captain Madeline, you have to find her!"

Captain Madeline blinked back. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet. Her steps were unsteady as she moved through the rocky terrain, her hand raised to catch the attention of the pegasus knights hovering overhead. As her armor shifted with her gait, Emmeryn caught sight of a few cuts running over her arms.

With Captain Madeline gone, Emmeryn lowered herself into her seat. She let her gaze run over Falchion, its blade gleaming brightly in the sun, and as she did, she noticed Tomas's body lying just beyond it.

It didn't feel real. She didn't want it to be real. A part of her brain refused to believe this was real. If she just reached over and touched it, it would vanish, and the real Tomas would appear at her side, comforting her, telling her everything would be okay.

She knew that it had to be this way. He had tried to kill her, after all. If he was still alive, she and her siblings would have to flee from Ylisstol, where they would always be in danger.

But she had still thought the world of him.

It all felt like a dream. Everything and everyone moved around her in ways that made no sense. There was no left or right, no up or down. The world just kept passing her on by.

Not for the first time, she wanted to be able to wake up from it. Wake up to a world where her father was still alive, where the only thing she had to worry about was leaving the comfort of her bed and making it to Tomas's lessons on time.

Faintly, she heard stones click against each other as Lord Bartholomew sat down beside her. An arm reached over her shoulders, keeping her on the ground.

Emmeryn let her head fall into her hands.

Again, Lucina had run.

She ran away from the carnage she'd caused in the streets. She ran away from the girl she'd left to bear the weight of the kingdom. She ran away from her family.

All of this was her fault. If she hadn't been here, this attack would have never happened, and Tomas wouldn't have decided now was the time to turn against Emmeryn. With Tomas dead, she had lost a vital piece of information. If she stuck around, who knows what else she might lose.

She had already done enough damage. She needed to find a way to get out of here.

Pressed up against an alleyway, safe to say, she hadn't had much luck with that. The skies were swarming with Pegasus Knight patrols looking for her. Just a few blocks away, she heard a group of soldiers ask someone if they'd seen a "blue-haired girl" pass by, and as the setting sun dyed the road a fiery orange, she started to resign herself to the cold Ylissean night.

There's always tomorrow, she told herself as she reached down to wrap her cape around her body. Maybe by the morning, they'll be a little less alert, and I'll be able to sip out with the crowd.

A chill passed through her clothes. Lucina gripped the edge of her cape and pulled tighter, but her thumb slipped through a hole in the fabric.

Oh. Right.

Shadows passed over her from the townsfolk rushing to their homes. The sun disappeared beyond the horizon, taking with it the warmth it brought. The long shadows beneath her melted into the dark. Overhead, the sky peeled back to reveal the stars, and as Lucina rested up against the cold stone wall, she began having second thoughts about leaving Falchion behind.

If she had Falchion, she wouldn't feel so vulnerable right now, so weak. It wasn't as if the Pegasus Knight could have stopped her; when Lucina cut her lance in half, she'd been too stunned to pose a threat.

But in the end, it wasn't hers to take.

A shadow fell over her, and Lucina tensed. When she looked up, though, she just found a merchant's cart blocking the end of the alleyway. She sighed in relief. For once, it seemed as if fate had decided not to throw her into the dragon's maw.

As she eyed the cart, a thick white cloth draped over the goods stored in the back, her ears caught the sound of conversation just to the right, and an idea came to her mind. A bit of a desperate one, but desperation was all she had left.

Forcing herself to her feet, she stumbled over the cobblestone toward it. Slowly, she pulled the cloth up, and, with a quick look over the street around her to make sure no one was watching, she dragged herself inside.

The interior of the cart was stale and dry. Lucina had to suppress a cough from breathing in the air. The moment her eye quickly adjusted to the dim lighting, instinct kicked in, scanning the suspicious lumps and goods for any sign of danger.

Two wide red eyes stared at her. Lucina stared back. She blinked, taking in the little red-haired girl sitting across from her, her hair tied up in a small ponytail, and the teddy bear clutched in her arms.

Internally, she panicked. If this girl ratted her out, the guard patrols would find her for sure! Lucina pressed a finger to her own lips and shushed her in hopes that she would understand.

When the girl didn't respond, her fear only grew. She patted down her sides for something, anything she could keep her busy with. The bag strapped to her belt was empty–of course they would be, she'd been in a cell just a few hours ago. She had nothing with her except her clothes, her cape, and the tiara sitting atop her head–

Lucina's fingers closed around it. Her heart clenched at the thought of giving it away–she had it with her for so long that just handing it over felt wrong–but in the end, her better sense won out, and she ripped it out of her hair.

The girl's eyes lit up as she handed over the golden piece. She took it quietly. When her eyes met Lucina's again, she nodded, and she shuffled deeper inside of the cart.

Once the girl was out of sight, Lucina finally let herself relax. The floor rumbled. The cart began to move again, and as Lucina leaned up against the shaky wooden frame, the dull thud of wheels rolling over the stone road resounding through the floorboards, her thoughts wandered back to her father.

Fourteen years. That would be how long she needed to stay away. He wouldn't like it. He had been devastated when she said she would leave, begging her to come back as soon as possible. She felt the same way.

But he needed to grow up without her, as much as it pained her to admit. His place was here, in Ylisstol, where he would become the brave and noble man who could face down the Fell Dragon.

As for her place... well, she had the next fourteen years to figure that out, didn't she?

End of Part 1-1

Chapter Text

Interlude

Aversa was awake long before the morning bells started to toll. The cold air bit into her with sharp, stinging claws, and the thin, burlap sheet did little to stop the breeze from slipping through, aside from digging its itchy bristles into her skin, and her arms shook violently at the icy touch of the wind. Her teeth had begun to hurt from chattering so much, and her head was ringing so loudly it took her a second to realize that the ringing wasn't coming from her head at all.

Keeping her sheet wrapped tightly around her body, she pushed herself off the ground slowly–a difficult task, given how much her arms were still shaking. Aversa groaned, and silently she wished she didn't have to sleep in a room with such a big window. With nothing to keep out the cold, Plegian nights could feel like they would freeze someone to death. Then again, her father told her that she would never be baked alive by the heat of the Plegian day in such a cool room, so it would not do her well to think such ungrateful thoughts.

The burlap sheet slipped from her fingers. Bitter cold doused her skin in an instant, and her muscles locked tight. Aversa cried out and collapsed back to the floor.

For a minute, she lay there, her cheek pressed to the icy ground. She was cold. She was hungry. And she was so tired. She didn't want to move at all, not until her father came back to get her.

But the sun would keep moving across the sky. Servants would come and go through the halls just outside her room. Sooner or later, someone would come to get her and make sure she didn't miss her lessons.

Again, she pushed off the ground. It was easier this time, once her arms had adjusted to the morning chill. They still shook with every move she made, but with the sun leaking in through the windows and warming her skin, they would not freeze again. The floor was still cold against her bare feet, but she hardly noticed as she dragged her body through her empty room and over to the window.

Sand. It was all she could see stretched out beyond the castle gate. The vast Plegian desert, painted pink in the rising sun half-buried in the dunes, was as empty as it had been for the past year. No matter how hard she looked, she could not find any Plegian flags sticking out of the sand, or hear the shouts of a returning army.

It seemed father wasn't going to be coming back today, either.

Father, she thought, closing her eyes with a worried frown, what is taking you so long to come home? I miss you.

Silently, she sent a prayer to the Fell Dragon for the safety of her father, just as he had taught her to do, and when she was done, she pulled away from the window. She turned toward the door, only to hesitate after a single step.

She reached down to smell her robes. They were deep purple, like the ones her father wore–a gracious gift on his end. It was important that she made sure they were always clean, especially because she had nothing else to wear.

Carefully, Aversa thumbed over the folds and ran her hands over the cloth, checking for dust or any large stains. For the moment, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with them, so there was little she had to worry herself about. Brushing down her robes and making sure it was pulled up all the way, Aversa took one last look at herself, and once she was satisfied, she made for the door.

The dining hall was empty. That was fine. Aversa was used to eating alone by now, and today was no different.

Clink.

Aversa spooned another helping of porridge into her mouth. It no longer made her nervous, hearing that sound echo through the vast chamber. It wasn't as if she cared whether anyone else bothered to keep her company.

Clink.

Even when other people were around, no one wanted to sit at the back of the room with her. Her breakfast, lunch, and dinner were always lonely affairs. Her father, meanwhile, was always seated so far away, at the front of the hall with the king and his other generals.

He was an important man, she knew, and that was why he got to sit at the front. Aversa also knew she was not nearly as important, so she had to sit in the back. Her father had his place in the hall, and so did she.

Clink. Clink.

Her bowl was almost empty by now. Only small strands remained at the edges, so she scraped her wooden spoon against the side to clean them off, but they refused to cooperate.

Her father had promised her that, one day, when she was good enough, she could sit at his side. He'd told her that last year, and the year before, and she was starting to think she would never earn her place at his table.

Just like she hadn't earned anything better than porridge for breakfast last night.

Aversa clenched her spoon tight. Her lips pulled into a line, almost into a scowl, before she stopped. She let out her frustration in one long breath.

Father said such displays were beneath her. She needed to learn to keep her thoughts in check, no matter how much she wanted to explode. Be patient, Aversa. Good things come to those who wait, she told herself.

With a shaking hand, she set her spoon back into her bowl. She took another deep breath. No one could ever get what they wanted if they demanded for it.

Aversa considered using her finger to catch the evasive leftover porridge for a moment, before she decided it wasn't worth it. Such behavior, such childish behavior, was improper for a Grimleal to show. They had to act dignified to earn the respect they deserved.

"Wrong!"

Aversa's head snapped to the side, a red welt on her cheek. Before her, Ardri, the teacher her father had assigned her while he was away, withdrew his arms and folded them back under his coat. His lips peeled back into an ugly scowl.

Aversa turned back to face him slowly. The side of her face still stung, but she refused to let it weaken her glare.

"What did I do wrong?" she asked.

"Everything!"

Hardly helpful. Her lips twitched down. She wiped her sleeve across her face before he could notice, and adjusted the Nosferatu tome in her other hand.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't ask what I mean!" Ardri snarled. He flailed his arms to the side, where a straw dummy lay in glimmering purple pieces on the floor.

"But I hit it," Avera said. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"No, you idiot! I told you to hit the target, not knock it down." Ardri's lips curled down, as something disgusted him. "Your uncontrolled attack shows a clear lack of restraint."

"You didn't say that."

"Don't question my words. I know what I said!"

Aversa keeled over, all the air forced out of her lungs without warning as Ardri drove his fist into her stomach. Aversa collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath, all while Ardri folded his arms across his chest, his beady eyes glowering down at her with contempt.

"I should have known not to expect any competence from you," he growled. "People like you have no need to explore a subject as extensive as dark magic."

Ardri hated her. She didn't know why he did, but ever since her father had left him in charge of her, he had done everything to make her life horrible, and Aversa hated him back. That much, she was sure of.

She hated his pig-like face, she hated his small face. She hated the smug way he smiled whenever she failed, and the vile way he looked at her whenever she got something right.

She wanted him gone, the same way her father could have people he didn't like dragged away with ease. She wanted to punch his stupid pig face in and blast him with the same magic he said she had no idea how to control.

But her father would never approve. Control yourself, he would tell her. Do not stoop to level yourself with the rabble.

So as Ardri's voice snapped out again, ordering her to cast her spell again, she kept her face straight, and she did what she was told.

By the time Aversa slipped back into her room, the moon had already begun to peek over the sandy hills. The sun was on the other side of the castle now, and her entire room was cast in shadow. She could barely see the cracks between the stone bricks outlined by the traces of moonlight, and though she knew it was childish nonsense, the deep black lines drawn all across her walls gave her the uneasiest feeling, as if there could be someone else hiding in here.

With a sigh, Aversa walked over to the window and draped herself over the edge.

She knew her father hadn't been gone for that long, but it felt like forever. He'd left her with the task to learn as much as she could while he was away, and while she was sure she had improved some since she'd last seen him, Ardri's horrible teaching made it hard for her to tell.

Aversa moved, propping her head up with an arm, and as she watched the moon rise, she wondered what it was he was doing right now that was keeping him away from her.

Ever since he left, her life was horrible. She had no one to talk to, no one else to show her magic skills to. She had no one to tell her that she had earned anything more than a bowl of porridge to eat and a burlap sheet to sleep in. As soon as her father was back, she knew he would set everything right again. As soon as he was back, she would train herself to be the strongest dark mage in all of Plegia and earn her place by his side.

If he ever came back, that was.

Aversa broke herself out of her head, pulling away from the window with a shake of her head. No. He will come back, she thought. Father is the smartest man in all of Plegia, in the entire world! He won't die, I know it!

One last time, Aversa's eyes traced the horizon, searching for any sign of life, any sign that her father was returning. Most nights, it was a fruitless search, and when she did find someone, it was always a stray merchant or messenger. War took a long time, her father always said, and he told her he would not be back for a long time.

A year had gone by now. Wasn't that long enough?

Aversa was just about to give up when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. A flicker of purple struck the silver moon. Aversa darted back to the window, leaning out as far as she dared.

She didn't want to get her hopes up. It could just be another messenger, come back to tell them to send more troops to the front lines.

When another flag emerged, followed by three more, though, she knew it was not just some lone messenger. Her father's army was returning, and she hoped that somewhere within the approaching mass of soldiers, was her father.

Aversa almost bolted out of her room, before she stumbled to a halt. If he really was here, which he probably was, what would her father think if he saw her like that? He would not expect her to run, or to show how excited she was with his return. It was beneath her.

Quickly composing herself, Aversa dusted her robes, and she strolled out of her room and through the castle's halls, making sure to move more slowly this time.

Getting into the castle's courtyard was no challenge for her. She had traversed these halls so many times, she knew exactly which corners to turn and which doors to go through to find her way around. A few more servants passed her as she pressed on, growing more excited than the last. Whispers passed between them, of casualties, of another looming war, and of the master's return–of her father's return.

Her father was back. That confirmed it.

Still, she wanted to see him for herself, just to be really sure.

When Aversa finally entered the courtyard, she found it filled with bright lights and people milling about. Tables heaped with food were placed scattered about, and soldiers wandered from one to another with cheerful words between them. Torches burned brightly, chasing away the oncoming darkness with warm orange light. Around her, people were talking, hugging, eating, crying.

And Aversa couldn't find her father anywhere in the crowd.

A few people exclaimed angrily as she pushed her way through them. Aversa ignored their cries. If they wanted to complain, they could speak to her father. She ducked, wove, and skipped through legs dusty and worn from battle. A servant girl stumbled into her vision, and Aversa shoved her aside without a second thought. When she heard something clatter to the ground behind her, a pang of sympathy flicked her heart, but she pressed it back down.

The bustling crowd parted for a moment, and Aversa passed a trio of soldiers talking to themselves. She considered stopping to ask for them if they'd seen her father, but when one of them muttered something about getting a drink, she decided against it. Her father hated anyone who drank.

Diving back into the mob, Aversa found herself increasingly frustrated with how hard it was to find her father. She searched through waving arms, dancing bodies, cascades of spilled booze and meat, but she couldn't find even a trace of him, not a flash of gold jewelry, nor a snip of deep purple robes.

The servants said he was back, so where was he? Were the servants lying? Or maybe she hadn't heard them right?

Aversa continued her search, but her patience was beginning to wear thin. She'd waited a whole year to see him again, and now that he was finally here, she refused to believe she couldn't meet him. The lights were too bright, the talking was too loud. Everything and everyone was beginning to eat away at her, and she wanted everyone to shut up!

Aversa bumped into another soldier. She hissed, annoyed at the contact, and for a brief moment, she let her eyes stray to look at him.

He wasn't celebrating. Unlike the rest of the soldiers, he didn't look happy at all. His eyes stared far away, like he wasn't all there, and his lips twisted in a way as if he had eaten something disgusting. It was such a strange sight, it forced her to stop for a moment.

"–a comfortable room. A boy like him needs plenty of rest if he is to grow into his potential." Her father's voice cut through her daze, startling her back to the present.

Her heart leaped, hearing that familiar voice, and suddenly Aversa found herself brimming with newfound energy. She broke into a run, tumbling under the packed soldiers and servants. Plates soared above her, people shouted in anger, but Aversa ignored them all. He was here; she knew he was here, and she didn't have time to stop for anyone else.

She broke through the edge of the crowd, and finally, she saw him.

Validar, her father, paused and glanced back over at her. And in his arms was a boy with white hair she’d never seen before.

Aversa's eyes narrowed. Suddenly, she didn't feel so happy anymore, and against her better judgment, she pointed at the boy.

"Father," she said. "Who is that?"

Chapter Text

Of the many men her father had to serve under him, he never treated any of them like he treated Aversa. What they had was special. Her father had taken her off the streets himself. Without him, she would have died in a gutter long ago. He gave her clothes, he gave her food. He taught her magic and the ways of the Grimleal.

Aversa knew, without a doubt, that she was his daughter. No one could tell her otherwise, and no one could ever take that from her.

At least, that was what her father had told her.

"Father, who is that?" Aversa asked.

Her father looked at her. "Not now, Aversa."

Aversa had not heard his voice in so long. Hearing it now, it should have made her happy, but his voice was so harsh she stopped for a moment.

His dismissal was obvious, even over the din of the crowd. A better daughter would have turned to leave immediately.

Instead, she said, "Why?"

"Because I told you so."

Aversa huffed. Around her, she heard people grumble, and it was then she realized that they weren't alone. A group of Grimleal gathered around the two of them.

Oh. He was busy.

"Okay," she said. "I'll go."

She turned and walked back into the bustling crowd.

It hurt, hearing he didn't want to see her, but her father was a busy man. A lot of people would want to talk to her father now. She would just have to wait her turn.

People danced. They sang. Meals were shared, and below the joyous atmosphere, Aversa slunk through the crowd. It was hard to ignore all the shouting, all the happy noises the people around her made, but she had to. Just because her father couldn't see her now was no reason for her to get angry, or she would leave herself weak to other emotions as well.

Her head struck someone's hand. She glanced up, and she saw their drink fly up. Aversa dashed forward before it could hit her. Behind her, she heard a girl cry out, but she was gone before anyone else could see what had happened.

After weaving through several celebrating soldiers, she emerged by a table at plates heaped with meat. Platters of pigs grilled to a tantalizing brown and cows cut up into slices sizzling and steaming with juice bathed in oil sat over her, close enough for her to get a whiff of their rich and savory scent.

Meat like that was expensive; much too expensive for her father to let her get used to eating it. Rarely was she ever allowed to eat meat.

Without him around, though, there was nothing to stop her from just... reaching out and taking a piece, was there? Her fingers twitched. Already she could feel her mouth watering from the thought. She'd eaten nothing but porridge for the past half-year. One bite wouldn't hurt, would it?

Her father was too busy to see her. He'd never see, and he'd never know. A small part of her, the angry part of her, pushed her on.

But if he did, he would never approve. He kept her from eating meat for a reason. If he ever found out, the punishment would be severe.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of purple. Aversa jumped back and spun around, but to her relief, her father was nowhere in sight.

It must have been another Grimleal, she told herself, quickly calming down once she realized her father hadn't seen her temporary lapse in judgment. Yes, father was busy. He wouldn't have the time to look for me right now.

Though, if there were Grimleal wandering about, could that mean he had finished whatever business he had? Perhaps he would have time to speak with her now. Ignoring the temptation to stop and grab a plate from the table behind her, Aversa turned back to where she remembered her father had been, and she skittered away.

When she found him, only a pair of Grimleal were left to listen to him. The boy was there as well, though he didn't count because he was sleeping. Aversa crept closer, and as she did, she heard snippets of her father's words.

"–and as I said, he'll need a decent room if we are to keep him here. We would not want to give him the impression that we are disrespecting him if he is ever to awaken in this vessel."

"Father," she said.

He paused. "I thought I told you not now."

"Are you still busy?"

"Yes. Leave us, Aversa."

This time, she sighed.

She realized her mistake a second later. She'd slipped, even if it was only for a moment. Her father's eyes widened, but Aversa made herself scarce before he could say a word.

She wandered aimlessly through the celebrating rabble, dodging spilled drinks and food. A few people bumped into her, and she would have rebuked them if she wasn't trying to stay unnoticed. She herself had brushed against one or two people, the fading torchlight making it harder to see.

She emerged by another table. This one smelled stronger, the sharp stench of drink a constant fog over her head. A few soldiers hovered around the table, smiling and laughing for no reason at all.

These men smelled bad, and they looked plain stupid too, stumbling around with their ale splashing around in their hands. Disgusted, Aversa moved to step away, but her foot brushed against someone's arm. She looked down, and she found a man sprawled on the floor in front of her, lying facedown in a sickly green puddle stained with... was that blood?

The pointed whiff of copper confirmed it. She could only assume it was the consequences of his foolish life choices.

Aversa made a face. She did not want to be around here. Quickly and quietly, she turned away, and the crowd hid her from that awful scene.

The celebration had begun to wind down by now. With the moon at its highest point in the sky, people started to make their way back to their homes, and Aversa found it harder to stay awake. She'd never stayed up this long; there was never anything for her to do once she had eaten her last meal, and she usually went to sleep immediately after.

This time, though, she was determined to speak to her father, even if she had to stay up all night to get a word with him, and as a happy couple wandered back down the city streets, she finally saw him alone, strolling back to the castle. Hiding her excitement behind a mask, she straightened out her robes and headed toward him.

As she got closer, she noticed the boy still in his arms. So maybe he wasn't completely alone. Still, it wasn't as if he had any important business with the boy, seeing as how he was asleep.

"Father," she said as soon as she got close. "I'm so glad to finally see you again."

Her father stopped. For a moment, she thought she might have done something wrong, but when he finally turned to face her, he didn't look angry. His lips were drawn into a thin line, his eyes narrowed, but that was how he always looked.

"Aversa," he said. "Not now."

"Not now?" She looked around. No one else was here, save for a few soldiers milling about the tables and a servant girl soaked in ale sweeping up the road. "Why not? You're not busy."

"I still have important things to do." He adjusted the unconscious boy in his arms. "Tomorrow. I'll come to see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Aversa frowned. She wanted to see him now. "Don't you want to see how I've been, how much I've learned?"

"I can hardly judge how much you've learned if I'm tired, can't I?"

"But–" Aversa stopped herself. She bit her lip, holding back another protest. No, he wouldn't be able to assess her if he was tired. She could hardly keep herself on her feet right now. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be for father, since he'd been away from home so long.

"Alright," she said.

"Good girl. You head back to the castle first. There are still a few things I need to oversee before I can return."

Aversa nodded. She started toward the castle, her steps going a little higher than before. A few yards away, she stopped to look over her shoulder. Her father was nowhere in sight.

That was fine, she told herself. He promised he would see her tomorrow.

With a hum, Aversa continued back home. That would have to be good enough for her. After all, though tomorrow was so far away, he had given her his promise. She just needed to wait a little more. Good things happened to those who waited.

When Aversa stepped into the training hall and she found Ardri waiting for her instead, she stomped over to him. Jabbing a finger up at his face, she growled, "What are you doing here?"

"Why so surprised, girl?" Ardri sneered.

"Father told me he was coming to see me today!"

"Really? He never told me anything of the like."

"There has to be some sort of mistake!"

"Oh, forget it, will you? Lord Validar has no need to make time for a brat like you." Ardri barked a laugh. "You're nothing to him, and you never will be."

Aversa was stunned. Her mouth hanging open, she couldn't register the heavy Elfire tome flying toward her until it smacked her in the face. She fell back on the seat of her robes with a cry, and her hands flew up to clutch her nose.

Her nose felt numb. Tears welled in her eyes.

"You're pathetic," Ardri said. "Get up. You have spells to learn."

"Get out."

The words slipped out before she could stop them. She almost covered her mouth, almost tried to take them back.

"What did you say to me?"

But then, she realized she didn't want to take them back. No, not this time.

"I said," Aversa balled her fists, "get out!"

With a shout, she thrust her hands forward. Magic burst from her palms, a bright orange dart that streaked across the room. Ardri gasped. He ducked. The dart exploded into a pillar of flame, casting the entire room in searing orange light.

When the flames died down, the wall behind Ardri was scorched black. His eyes widened.

Aversa could feel what remained of the magic tingling in her fingertips. Sparks jumped between her trembling hands, burning with energy. This power–she'd never felt this powerful before, and now that she had...

Her eyes landed on Ardri. He whimpered, and he scrambled out of her sight.

With that, all the power drained from her body. She glanced down at her hands. At that moment, she had felt like she could do anything in the world. But none of that mattered now.

Finally, he'd left her all alone. All she could do was wait for her father when he showed up. Because he would show up, wouldn't he?

So she sat down. And she waited. And she waited. From when the sun had cast long shadows through the windows, to when it was high in the sky, Aversa sat patiently in the training hall for him to come.

And he would come, she was sure of it. Her father would never lie to her, and it wasn't until three Grimleal walked past her, whispering about something "Master Validar" had told them, that the smallest doubt wormed its way into her mind.

Maybe he just didn't know where to find her? Yes, that had to be it. She hadn't told him where he could find her, after all, and while she thought it was obvious, maybe it'd been so long he'd forgotten where they would always meet for magic practice.

Once the Grimleal had disappeared around the corner, Aversa looked around. No one else was with her. She couldn't hear any footsteps approach. Not that of her father, not that of anyone else.

So, she decided she would have to find him.

Pushing herself to her feet, Aversa set off on her search. She searched through the halls, passing by groups of Grimleal and servants bustling about. It was getting late. As she passed the kitchen, she could smell the castle cooks making dinner inside.

He wouldn't be anywhere nearby, that much she could guess. The kitchen was much too noisy, and if she knew her father, he would have liked to sleep somewhere much quieter.

She was just about to make her way to the other side of the castle when the doors to the kitchen opened. Out walked another Grimleal mage. Aversa might not have paid him any attention, as she had to all the other Grimleal mages before, if it weren't for the bag he held in his hands–a bag that sounded suspiciously like caramels.

Caramels were father's favorite candy, Aversa thought. Is he bringing some to father right now?

If he was, then Aversa decided that her best choice would be to follow this Grimleal.

Of course, she couldn't make it obvious. Most of the Grimleal were irritable people. If he saw Aversa following him, he would get mad, so Aversa hid against the wall. She made sure her footsteps were completely silent as she crept across the stone floor. The shadows served as her cloak, and when the torches flickered, she moved, zipping across the hall as the Grimleal walked onward.

They passed through hall after hall. They turned so many corners, Aversa lost count, and though the occasional piece of furniture gave her a bigger place to hide behind, she could not rest for long, or she risked losing sight of her target.

Eventually, though, the Grimleal stopped by a door. One a few doors away from the Grimleal chapel, and, Aversa noted, on the other side of the keep from her room.

He knocked. A moment passed. Then, the door opened.

Aversa let curiosity take hold of her for a moment. She'd never seen father's room before. What would it look like?

She snuck closer to get a better look. From what little she could see, the room was bright and warm. She could faintly hear a sharp crackling, though she couldn't see a fire burning anywhere, and at the center of the room, she saw a small bed. A little small for what she would have guessed father's bed to be, but maybe she was just seeing things. Before she could check, however, the Grimleal slipped inside the room and shut the door behind him.

Aversa huffed, and she made herself comfortable against the corner. A minute went by. Then two.

Finally, the door opened again. Light spilled out from inside, and Aversa pushed herself further against the wall to avoid being seen. She watched the Grimleal leave without a word, and she listened to his footsteps fade as he strolled out of sight. The second she was sure he had left, Aversa rushed over to the door. She reached up to open it, but she stopped when she heard someone talking.

"Robin, why don't you calm down. Here, if you calm down, I'll give you this caramel."

"I don't want it!"

"Now Robin, that is no way to treat me. I am your father. You will listen to me, or I promise you, you won't like living here at all."

"I don't care! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

A smack echoed in the air. Aversa's jumped at the sound. She flung open the door, afraid of what she would find.

The boy had attacked her father. He stood at the edge of the bed, his arm extended, and his face twisted into a snarl.

Her father didn't look hurt. His eye was closed, and she could see his cheek glow bright red from the hit, but other than that, he didn't seem fazed at all from the boy's attack.

That didn't stop Aversa from rushing to her father's side.

"Father!" she yelled. "Are you hurt?"

Beside her, she heard the rustling of sheets. Her father cursed. Before Aversa could react, he shoved her away. Her back slammed into the side of the bed. She cried out in pain.

The boy did so too, all the way over by the door. He fell to the ground, his arms and legs wrapped up in a string of shimmering purple.

Aversa's head swam with confusion. When had the boy moved there? Why was he there? She glanced over at her father, hoping he would give her an answer.

"Aversa," he said. His voice sounded level, his face the same impassive line he'd always been, but beneath it all, Aversa knew he was angry.

Angry? Why was he Angry?

"Why are you here?" her father asked.

"I... I wanted to find you, father."

"I see."

"Father, you told me you would come to see me."

"I did."

"But... why didn't you come?"

"I was busy."

"You were busy last night!" Aversa whined.

"And what made you think I wouldn't be busy again today?"

"I... I…" Aversa immediately felt guilty. She fixed her gaze on the floor and again, she said, "Sorry father." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Leave us," her father said. "Maybe tomorrow, I'll come to see how you've improved."

Silently, Aversa trudged back to the door. As she passed through the door, she glanced back down at the boy her father had been busy with. He glared up at her, furious, as if it was her fault he'd tried to run away, and it was her fault she'd suffered the consequences of it.

She glared right back. The moment she pushed the door shut behind her, she let out a frustrated huff.

That boy. Somehow this was all his fault. Ever since father had brought him back, he'd been too busy to see her. This boy had stolen her father from her. She didn't know how, but he'd taken her father's attention away from her.

Then and there, Aversa decided she hated that boy.

Chapter Text

Robin knew mother had told him to never talk to strangers, and yet here he was, staring up at the ceiling of a room that wasn't his, forced to sleep on a strange bed by a man who said he was his father.

He wanted to go home. This place, his father had told him, was his home now, but that was wrong. This place would never be his home. His real home was back in the village, back with mother, where the sun shone down on him and warmed his face as he played, and all he ever had to worry about was mother sending him out to chop firewood.

But that was gone now.

Mother was dead. Everyone else too. The townspeople. The other kids. Marth. He'd been helpless to watch as the men stormed in and set houses alight, and he'd seen them drag those left behind the hill, crying and screaming to be let go. He wasn't stupid. He knew what they had done to them.

Robin knew better than to trust strangers, but this man wasn't just a stranger. He was a monster.

All the books Robin had read and all the stories mother had told him said monsters were mindless beasts, angry, hideous, and easy to outwit. This man wasn't like that. He was calm. He was sharp. And worst of all, he was smart.

The clutches the monster held him in were not gnarled and cold, but with stone walls and a fireplace crackling over the stale, dusty air. No sword could break its grasp, no tricks could earn his freedom. He was trapped in here, hidden from even the sun's warmth.

His eyes flicked over to the large wooden door at the end of his room: the only way out of this prison. The only other opening in the room, the fireplace, was much too hot to climb through, and there were no windows, so Robin didn't even know if it was day or night. He had no idea how much time had passed, and any second now, that man could come through the door and do whatever horrible things he had planned for him.

Would he kill him? Would he eat him alive? Robin didn't know, and that scared him.

The man had said nothing was going to happen to him, but Robin knew he was lying. Monsters like him always lied, and if that was a lie, then what was the truth? What was going to happen to him?

He needed to get out of here. Robin looked all around him, at the unmoving walls that trapped him. Through them, a dull throbbing reached his ears.

What was making that sound? He had no idea what horrible things were happening behind those walls, and the repetitive thudding noise echoed inside his head, getting closer and closer.

He needed to get out of here, but there was no way for him to escape. Something was coming here, and all he could do was wait. There would be no escape, not from this, not from this room, not ever.

Someone knocked.

"Breakfast!" a muffled voice called through the door.

The door creaked open. His legs trembled beneath him, though he knew he should have stayed calm. This could be his only chance to escape. There was no room for him to panic.

Instead of his father, a guard stepped through, a plate of food in his hands.

Before he could stop to think twice, Robin bolted past him.

"Hey!" the guard shouted. "Stop! Get back here!"

But Robin did not stop. He would not stop until he found a way out from this horrible dungeon. He rushed past startled servants and guards, rounding corners and barreling through doors in a frantic search for a window, or a doorway leading outside. Every turn he took, every room he entered looked completely strange to him.

When his father had taken him to that room, he had been sleeping, tired after days of travel. Now, he wished that he had stayed awake. If he had, maybe he'd know where he was headed right now.

He looked over his shoulder to see another guard join the first in the hallway. Their armor clanked as he ran after him, and with their longer legs they made quick progress toward him. Their longer reach, too, would snare him if he didn't think of something quick.

Another door opened before him. A pair of servants walked through, carrying two large buckets of fruit between them. Robin darted between them. Behind him, he heard cries and the sound of things tumbling to the ground as the unsuspecting pairs crashed into each other. Someone called for him to come back, but he was already through the next door.

The hallway he found himself in looked the same as the last. But that couldn't be true. If he kept sprinting, he would have to find his way out sooner or later. And so he did.

His path kept going on and on, and still, he ran. One of these turns, one of these doors had to lead outside. Where else would those servants go to find fruit?

"There he is!"

A guard jumped out from another hall to grab him. Robin threw himself to the side. The guard stumbled past him, and before he could turn around, Robin tore away.

Doors flew past him in a blur. Servants that crossed his path swerved out of his way. He could hear more people now, disturbed by the racket of the guards on his tail. Above them all, one voice rose, snarling and angry.

"What is going on?" his father yelled from somewhere nearby. A door in front of him opened, and to his horror, Robin caught a dark purple robe coming through.

He didn't want to die here.

Robin hurled himself around one last corner and pushed through the door in his way. Immediately, the lights brightened. He looked up, and finally, he saw a window just ahead. A clear blue sky waited for him on the other side.

Robin ran faster. Freedom was just within reach. Just a few more seconds and he would be out. If he fell, he could catch himself. If he tripped, there would be nothing he could do.

The door behind him burst open. Robin reached out to pull himself through.

A shape crashed into his side. Robin cried out as he slammed into the wall. He looked up to see who had stopped him. On the floor in front of him, the same girl who'd interrupted his last meeting with his father rubbed a hand through her pale pink hair with a groan.

Anger bubbled up in his throat. He had been so close to getting out, and this girl, this stupid girl had to get in his way. His fist clenched. He tried to stand up, maybe to jump away, maybe to bash her stupid face in, but when he tried to move, he found his arms stuck to his side.

A glowing purple coil wrapped tightly around him. He tried to slip free, but they refused to budge.

"Aversa!"

Robin flinched at the sharp tone of his father's voice. He glanced up. His father's face twisted into an angry scowl, but it wasn't aimed at him.

"Father!" the girl said. She raised her hand to pull herself up, but when she noticed the man's glare, she shrank.

"What do you think you're doing!" he yelled. "You should know to watch where you're going! You could have hurt someone!"

"But father, how was I supposed to know he was there?"

His father scowled. "I don't want to hear any excuses out of you. I thought I trained you to be above such petty things." As guards piled into the room, he spun to face them, and nodding toward Robin, he said, "Take him and follow me back to his room. It seems a private chat with my son is needed."

Robin shivered. As a guard picked by the collar and started to haul him away, a small part of him shouted at him to kick, to resist, to keep fighting, but one look at his father's icy gaze was enough for him to know it was pointless.

What punishment did his father have in store for him once he got back?

"Robin."

Robin refused to look up, burning holes through the floor with his glare as he gripped the bedsheets under him tighter.

"Robin," his father said again. "Why did you try to run away?"

Why did he try to run away? Because he hated him. Robin hated this man from the bottom of his heart, but he was never going to say it, so he kept his mouth shut and looked the other way.

"I won't hurt you," his father said.

Robin knew he was lying. He hadn't been like this at all the last time, so it had to be fake. This was all an act. With a huff, he moved away.

Thin, wiry fingers curled around his chin and pulled him back to face him. His father's nails dug into his skin, but Robin shut his eyes before his father could get a good look at him. If his father didn't look at him, then he wouldn't see how angry Robin was. How scared he was.

Seconds ticked by. His cheeks began to hurt, and tears pricked at his eyes, but he refused to let them open an inch.

At last, his father let him go and sighed. Robin's gaze was back on the floor the moment he did, glowering at it as if he could rip a hole through it to jump through, no matter how much he wished for it.

"I can see you won't talk." The bed shifted, and his father pushed himself off.

Robin's lips twitched up, but he forced them down. Whatever it was his father had wanted, Robin would never give it to him, even if he would still be punished for it.

Then, to his surprise, his father started toward the door.

Robin looked up. His eyes met his father's, and in an instant, Robin stilled.

"I'll leave you alone to think about what you've done," his father said, "but please, do not try to leave the room again. You're here for your own good."

And with that, he opened the door and walked through, leaving Robin very confused and angry.

This was for his own good? What part of this was good for him? It had to be a lie, there was no other explanation.

And who did he think he was, trying to act like he was his mother? Why was he so calm about this? Where was his anger? He acted so calm, like Robin really was his own child. But Robin would never love him like he had loved mother. That would never happen, not in a million years!

With an angry shout, Robin punched his pillow. He had no idea what was going on. He wanted to find out, but as long as he was here, he didn't think he would ever know.

Robin watched as his father dug his hand into a small pouch, pulled out a small, round candy, and offered it to him.

"Would you like a caramel?" he asked. "It's from my own supply, the finest in the kingdom."

"I don't want it!" Robin scowled, and he slapped his father's hand away.

His father's eyes slid over to the uneaten tray sitting at the table next to Robin's bed. He tusked, shaking his head. Robin imagined himself kicking the man so hard his legs broke.

"A young boy like yourself must eat to grow stronger," his father said, like he cared at all about what Robin ate.

Taking another candy out from his pouch, his father gently placed it on the desk. "Please, eat. It'll help keep you energized." After a moment's pause, he added, "It's quite sweet too, if those sorts of things are to your taste."

Again, his father stood up and left as soon as he was done. The door clicked shut behind him, and Robin waited until he was sure he was gone before he finally grabbed the candy from the desk and threw it into the fireplace. He watched as it burned, and the sweet, sugary fumes curled around the room and swirled up into the chimney.

His stomach growled. For a moment, a feeling of regret flickered in his chest, but like everything else, he pushed it back down. There was no way he was eating that. If he ate it, it would be like he was actually listening to something his father said, and he would rather starve than do that. Besides, it was probably poisoned, or designed to make him better to eat.

His stomach growled again. Sulking, Robin tore his gaze away from the fireplace. He couldn't deny that he was hungry, but what else was he supposed to do? Accept his father's present? Hah. Laughable.

He'd rather eat the garbage the other soldiers brought to his room than anything his father gave him.

"I've heard you like books," his father said.

Robin tore his eyes away from the foot of the bed just in time to see his father place down a stack of books on the table. The titles read "Shanty Pete and the Haunted Pirates" and "Wyvern Wars: A Knight's New Hope". Not at all anything Robin ever wanted to read.

"Who said that?" Robin growled. "I don't like books. I hate books."

His father's eyes narrowed. "I assumed someone as smart as you would enjoy an intelligent pastime as reading."

Smart? Robin's scowl grew, and he practically strangled the sheets in his grip. Only mother was allowed to say that!

"Well you're wrong!" he snapped. "I hate books!"

He wanted his father to flinch back. He wanted to see him hurt.

Instead, he just hummed. "I suppose I should just take them away, then."

"I don't care."

Robin watched as his father hauled the books off the table. He moved them up into his arms, and he turned toward the door. As he moved to open it, though, he stopped to throw a long look back at Robin.

"What?" Robin asked, annoyed that he still hadn't left.

"Nothing," his father replied. "You just remind me of your mother."

His mother? What... how did he think he could say that? He'd killed his mother! He couldn't say stuff like that!

Robin opened his mouth to yell back at him, but the door shut in his face before he could speak a word.

His father was a strange, strange man. Robin hated him, and he was afraid of him. But now, he confused him. And Robin did not like being confused.

Mother always told him to never talk to strangers. He never wanted to speak to his father again. But if he did, then he'd never find out what that was about.

Aversa's father always told her that everything was earned. If she wanted something, only hard work would get her it. She wanted to be strong enough to stand at her father's side, so she'd worked hard to get strong.

Which was why, when she saw her father walk out of that boy's room again, she couldn't understand it at all.

What made that boy so special that her father had decided to spend time with him instead of her? What had he done to deserve that privilege? He didn't spend his life working to earn her father's attention. It made absolutely no sense.

"Aversa."

His voice cut through the silence like a crossbow bolt through her heart, and Aversa sucked in a breath. The temperature in the room dropped, and faintly, she remembered the last time her father had spoken to her here. Maybe if she stayed still, he would ignore her.

"I know you're there," he said, his voice low. "Why won't you speak up?"

She swallowed. "Sorry, father," she replied. "I... I didn't mean to... to come here."

"Of course not."

Aversa winced at her father's tone. She took a step back. "Sorry father," she said again. "I'm not supposed to be here, am I?"

"You are not."

"I'll be leaving now." She started to turn away, but her father raised a hand.

"No," he said, softly, gently. "Please, stay." Slowly, he turned around, fixing her with his red-eyed gaze.

Swallowing again, Aversa did as she was told.

"Everyone does something for a reason." Her father smiled. "Tell me, what is your reason for being here?"

"I... I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

Nervously, Aversa looked away. "It can wait."

"I'm in no hurry. Please," he spread his arms wide, "enlighten me."

"I... I..." Aversa clenched her fists. She hesitated, a thousand ways to ask her question tumbling through her head. At last, she settled on, "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?"

Aversa shook her head. "Why do you keep coming here? Why don't you ever come to see me?"

"Must I always repeat myself?" Validar asked flatly. "I'm busy. This boy, he is important to our cause. It is imperative that I attend to him."

"More important than me?"

"Yes. He is."

His answer was instant. It hurt to hear it. That right now, she meant so little. He would come back to her, she knew that, but she wanted his time now!

She wanted to cross her arms and huff. She wanted to stomp away, show him how angry she was, and maybe, if he saw that, he would change his mind.

"Okay," was all she managed to whisper out.

Her feet wouldn't move. She willed them to take her back to her room, but they refused to. Silently, she cursed her stubborn feet.

"Aversa."

Again, Aversa snapped up. For a moment, she thought he might change her mind. Maybe he had seen how frustrated she was. Maybe he'd realized his mistake.

"I've told you before," he said, "that everything is earned. My time is the same." His lips pulled into a scowl. "If you want something, you must earn it. There are no exceptions to that rule."

Then, he turned and walked away, leaving Aversa to stare at his retreating form.

Earn his time? Why now? What had she done to deserve this?

She turned her head to the sky. A breath rushed out her lips, one she didn't even know she'd been holding. All her anger drained with that one breath, leaving her with nothing to hold her up but her own two legs.

Why can't things go back to normal? she thought.

Slowly, she forced herself around, and she trudged back to her room.

Chapter Text

The days and nights blended together. Robin had no idea how long he stayed in that room, and the guards refused to tell him when he asked. Likewise, he refused to speak to his father about it. All he knew was that he had been stuck there for a very long time.

Guards came and went, bringing food with them. His father stopped by often to offer him presents, but Robin was determined to never say a word to him. This was how things would be for the rest of his life.

Then, one day, his father came without anything to give him.

"Robin," he said. "Come with me." And before Robin could protest, his father grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out of his room.

As the doorway passed above him, Robin snapped back to his senses. "Let me go!" he cried.

He kicked. He tried to break free. He grabbed hold of his father's hand and tugged at it, but to no avail.

Servants they passed moved aside, and they stopped to watch them. That only made Robin pull harder. Wherever his father was taking him, it was going to be bad. He didn't want to go with him, but try as he might, he could go nowhere else.

At last, his father stopped and threw him forward. Robin landed on his side with a squeak. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet, and he moved to get away, only to fall face-first onto the cold stone floor. Looking down, he noticed a hazy purple string tying his foot to the ground.

"Please get up," his father said.

"No," Robin replied.

His father just stared at him. Robin met his gaze angrily, his own eyes narrowed. He wasn't standing, and there was nothing his father could do to make him. No matter what he said, Robin would stay seated.

A second passed. Then another. Robin waited for his father to do something, but he never did.

The seconds dragged on to a minute. Robin's frown grew. His father's face didn't so much as move a muscle.

Robin wasn't moving. That was his choice, and nothing his father said would ever get him to change that. He would not budge an inch from his spot. And still, his father watched him.

His red eyes drilled deep into Robin's. Just looking into them, a small part of Robin yelled out that this was a bad idea. It was like someone was inside his head, flipping through his thoughts like a dictionary. Did he know what Robin was thinking right now? No, he couldn't. That was impossible. But something about those eyes made Robin feel like he was in danger, and maybe he shouldn't have stared for so long.

Robin shifted, and he tore his eyes away. He didn't have to keep his eyes on his father. There were plenty of other places to look in the big, spacious hall he'd been dragged to. All around them, sunlight streamed through slits carved into the wall, the first he'd seen since he had tried to escape. If it weren't for the dark magic keeping him stuck to the floor, he would have tried to run through them, but they were so far away he wouldn't have been able to reach them before his father caught him anyway. The thin smell of ash hung in the air like an invisible blanket, and when Robin followed the scent with his eyes, he found a line of three straw dummies standing in front of the wall on the other side, some of them marked with ugly black burns.

Robin had never seen anything like it, but he could guess what they were for: target practice. But why had his father brought him here?

He turned his head back, only to find his father hadn't moved from his spot, still watching Robin with that cold, unfeeling gaze. A shiver clawed up his spine, digging into each bump inch by inch.

No. Whatever his father was doing to him, Robin would not listen, he refused to listen. He couldn't force Robin to do it if he didn't want to. Except... had he been this close the last time Robin had looked?

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. No, his father hadn't moved at all. He was still right where he had been before.

Robin's fingers scrabbled against the floor, but it wasn't quick enough. His father's eyes narrowed. It was the first movement Robin had seen him make. He forced down a growing lump of cold in his throat, and his fingers twitched nervously.

He wasn't going to stand. He wasn't going to stand. But if he didn't... what would happen?

Staring into his father's red eyes felt like having his heart exposed to the bitter cold air. His chest curled in tighter, squeezing his lungs uncomfortably close and his legs itched to move.

He stood.

His father nodded with a hum, and immediately something red and hot rose to Robin's mouth. He clenched his teeth and kept it inside.

"Now," his father's voice cut through, and he reached into his robe, producing a bright red book. He dropped it before Robin, probably expecting him to catch it, but Robin didn't move, and the book clunked against the floor.

"Robin. Pick it up."

Robin didn't want to do it, but he didn't want to find out what happened if he didn't. He made it very clear to his father how much he hated doing it, but in the end, he still reached down to pick the book off the floor.

His father didn't spare him a glance, and instead, he raised a hand to the straw dummy on the far right. "Hit that one over there."

"How?" Robin forced out.

His father raised his brow. "With magic. Surely your mother taught you how to use magic. Or did she deprive you of that as well?"

"She didn't teach me." Robin turned his head away defiantly.

"Are you sure?"

"She didn't teach me."

His father made a sound. From the corner of his eye, Robin saw his father move. Sharp fingers flew toward him, and Robin gasped, but they didn't stab him or prod him. With a slow and careful gesture, his father aimed his finger at the book in Robin's hands.

"Open it."

Robin looked down at it, and with a grumble, he thumbed a random page and opened the book. The page was decorated with weird lines. Robin scanned over them, but he couldn't make any sense of them. They looked like utter nonsense to him.

He glanced back up to his father, confused. His father just nodded back toward the targets. "Cast it."

"I don't want to."

The gaze hardened, pressing up against his soul with an ice-cold blade. "Robin. Cast it." When Robin didn't budge, his father's lips tugged down. "Or do you simply not know how?"

Robin didn't need to say a word for his father to pick up that he didn't. He still tried, sealing his mouth shut as tight as he could, but his father's face shifted like Robin had spoken all the same.

"How disappointing," his father hummed. "I thought your mother must have raised you better. A pity she didn't even teach you the basics."

Robin's eyes snapped onto his father, and now it was his turn to glare. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. Simply, I thought your mother would have known to teach you something. I'm so sorry she failed you in that way. Or perhaps teaching was not her forte."

"She didn't!" Robin stomped his foot. "She taught a bunch of people! In the village, she taught magic classes all the time!"

That was what she'd done for the rest of the villagers. If you were part of a community, you had to find a part to play. Just like a house would only hold together if all the bricks supported each other, a village could only stand if everyone helped each other out, and his mother helped by teaching everyone else magic.

"She did?" His father scoffed. "Then why didn't she teach you?"

"She was gonna! She said she would teach me when I got older, before you–before you–" Robin roared in frustration, and he flung his hand out at the straw dummies.

Who did he think he was? Robin would show him he was wrong. He had never cast a spell in his life, but he'd seen his mother do it plenty of times. He'd seen her point her hand toward where she wanted the spell to go.

But what came after it?

Robin squinted. He tightened his palm until it started to hurt.

"No, not like that," his father said. "What do you think you're doing?"

Robin growled. "I don't know."

"You have to breathe."

How did that help? It wasn't like he wasn't breathing already. "But I am."

"Not like that. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

It couldn't have been as easy as that. There was no way it was that stupid, that simple. But what else could he do?

Scowling, Robin did as he was told. He breathed in and out. In and out. Something tugged at his skin, and he realized it was coming from the tome in his hands. His eyes flicked over to the pages held, and to his surprise, he found the lines glowing.

He breathed in, and as he did, heat swelled up in his chest and through his body. It warmed his fingertips and rushed down one arm and through the other. Waves of energy rippled beneath his skin, bursting and begging to be let out.

So Robin did. With a single breath, all that heat rushed out from his hand as a spiral of flame, leaving a sharp cold in its trail. It traveled three feet, crackling and flickering before it fizzled out.

"Well done, boy," his father said, nodding. "As expected from someone like you. Your mother would approve."

Robin clenched his fist, keeping the red hot bile from pouring out his throat. Again, he thrust his hand forward.

"Elfire!"

A fireball hurled over his head and smashed into the first straw dummy, consuming it in a column of flame. Robin started. He whirled around, and who else did he find standing behind him but the dark-skinned girl from before, a hand on her hip as she stared down at him smugly.

"Aversa," her father said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here," she said, swinging her arms by her side, "to show him how it's done."

A flame snapped to life over her fingertips. The girl, Aversa, twirled it around and flung it forward. Red and orange arched through the air, and another dummy dissolved into ash.

"Hey!" Robin shouted. "I was going to use that!" He wasn't, but now that this girl had come here, he couldn't just stand here and let her get away with it!

Aversa leaned closer, her brows uneven. "Oh? You were?" She pointed at the last straw dummy. "How about you hit that one, then?"

Growling, Robin extended his hand. Pulling upon that same warm tug from the tome, Robin dragged it across his body and forced it out of his hand. A spurt of fire burst from his fingers, arched through the air, and pathetically flickered and died out. He tried again, but the flame didn't even make it a third of the way there before it disappeared. His fingers gripped the pages and flung them aside, flipping through to a random page, and he threw his arm out one more time.

"Elfire!" Aversa flicked a blast of fire magic across the room. The straw dummy was gone before Robin had the chance to cast his spell, and he whirled upon Aversa angrily.

"Hey!"

"Sorry," Aversa said, pressing her finger back against her cheek. "My hand slipped."

"It did not!"

"Did too."

"Did not!"

"Don't argue with me. What are you going to do, warm me up with that weak fire spell of yours?"

Robin snarled. His hand trembled, bursting and struggling to hold back his anger. He let it simmer through his teeth in a hot gust of air.

Because what else could he do, other than let her get away? He wasn't good enough to escape, and he certainly wasn't good enough to do anything to her.

Aversa tried for two days. Whenever her father brought out the brat, Aversa came in to steal away the spotlight. And for two days, he hadn't so much as spared her a glance.

It was stupid. It was unfair! She was much better at using magic. He'd had two days to learn, and the brat couldn't even cast a fire spell properly! What did he have that she didn't? He was important, her father had said so, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why!

Aversa stormed through the hall, complaining to herself. She didn't care how loud her footsteps were, or if she woke anyone up this late at night. Through the open windows, the moon watched her slither through the halls from afar, mocking her with its silent, silver gaze. Why was she up so late? Shouldn't she be in bed?

Not tonight. Tonight, she was finally going to do something about this. Tonight, she was going to get answers to all the questions still floating in her head.

Turning the corner, her toes fell into a thin strip of light cast from the door. She slowed, then came to a stop. This... wasn't supposed to be here, was it?

She lifted her head, and her eyes narrowed when she found the door to the boy's room open. Looking left and right, Aversa's suspicion only grew when she couldn't find a guard in sight. What she did find was the tail end of a shoe slipping around the corner. The boy's, most likely. If there were no guards here, then the boy could escape.

But why did she care? After all, he was stealing her father from her. If he got out, then she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. Aversa huffed, and she considered the idea of just letting him leave.

Father wouldn't like that, though. What he would probably like a lot more was if she came to tell him that the brat was escaping. If he knew he was trying to run away again, her father would get angry at him, and maybe, just maybe, he would reward her for her efforts. Yes, Aversa liked this idea, and with this plan in mind, she slipped away to find her father.

His room was the first place she checked. He wasn't there; he usually never was. Aversa had never stayed up long enough to see him go to sleep, but on some nights he went here for some peace of mind. You couldn't think if you always had to deal with noise rattling around in the inside of your skull was what he would say. Tonight was not one of those nights, so Aversa gently closed the door and moved on.

He wasn't in the training hall. She had the chance to take a peek as she made her way across the castle, but when she checked, it was empty. Even a master of magic like him could still get stronger, so he came here every now and then to practice. He always left the training hall scorched and battered, but not a straw was out of place, so Aversa moved on from that as well.

There were many dark corners scattered throughout the castle. The hot weather meant that excess firelight did more harm than good, and the few torches hung up on the walls meant that there were many places shrouded in darkness this late at night. It provided plenty of spots for the Grimleal that roamed the castle to blend in with their dark robes. Her father lurked in those places often to silently observe the happenings between the halls and to make sure no one was plotting behind his back, but tonight, those things would go unwatched because he wasn't there either.

Finally, she reached the grand doors of the main hall. Dimly lit by a pair of torches on either side, the wooden obstruction felt more menacing than it did during the day. Even the largest soldiers her father had at his command looked small next to those doors, and maybe she was just tired, but tonight they looked so big, she didn't think she could move them if she tried. When she pressed her ear against them, though, she heard her father's voice slip through, hushed and murmured, but his all the same.

Carefully, Aversa pushed it open just a crack, and she peered through. She could faintly make out the figure of her father standing in the dark, his deep purple robes outlined by the shimmering moonlight. Two more Grimleal priests knelt in front of him with his head bowed. Through the opening and on the other side of the room, the tail end of her father's words managed to reach her.

"...to Regna Ferox? I have little use for that barbaric nation. Still, it would be troubling, were Ylisse to gain them as allies. The chance is low, what with the former Exalt's warmongering, but time provides many opportunities for the smallest things to find cracks in the mortar." A pause. "We wouldn't want that to happen, would we?"

"Certainly not, Master Validar," one of the Grimleal murmured. "Such... doubts have no place in my mind, no they do not."

"Good. See to it that you leave before sunrise, and that you do not leave such loose ends this time. As for you," he turned to the second Grimleal, "send the Exalt our best wishes for the start of her glorious reign. Quietly, of course. A gardener must take care of his crops before they are ready to be reaped."

"As you wish, your most gracious excellency."

Her? Just which her were they talking about? And what business did her father have with the Exalt of Ylisse? Aversa wasn't four. She knew who the Exalt of Ylisse was, and she also knew her father despised him.

Whatever he was planning, it must have been more important than what she was allowed to hear. Perhaps this was a bad time to enter. Perhaps it would be better for her to catch the brat herself, being the better mage and all. Sighing, Aversa turned to leave.

"Aversa." Her father's voice stopped her short. She spun around, but her father was already at the door. With a flick, the doors swung open, revealing her to the Grimleal priests still at the center of the room.

"My my," the first said, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "It appears we have a naughty little eavesdropper, yes we do."

"I should hardly be surprised. People like her can never seem to keep their noses out of places where they don't belong," the second said. His voice was scratchy and nasally, and Aversa immediately recognized him as Ardri.

"Silence." The two shut up in an instant, and Aversa found her father's eyes, and his eyes alone, upon her. "This better be important," he said, and he folded his arms across his chest. "Speak."

"Ah..." Aversa swallowed. If there was any doubt that this was a bad time, this confirmed it. Her father did not look happy, the frowning lines on his face carved ever deeper by the shadows, and Aversa found herself moving backward.

"Well... it's just that..."

"My time is not something you can waste," her father snapped. "What do you have to say?"

Swallowing again, Aversa forced the words out of her throat. "The boy... he's gone–I mean, he's escaping!"

Her father's eyes glowed sickly red in the wisps of orange light running over his face, and as they thinned, Aversa's stomach dropped. Maybe she was wrong to tell him. Maybe this was all part of the important plan, and she'd just messed it up, and if it was, then was she going to be punished for it?

"Where did he go?"

Aversa's shoulders slumped, and her relief rushed out of her in a short gust. "He went toward the back wall," she said, and she pointed down the hall.

"Hmph." Without another word, her father reached into his robes and drew a deep purple tome. Aversa watched him sprint away, and as he disappeared, it occurred to her that following him would probably be a good idea. She glanced around nervously, to see if anyone else was going after her father, before she took off after him.

Robin stared out the window into a field of sand, his eyes following the golden ripples carried over the hills by the dry desert breeze beneath an endless blanket of stars.

The last time he was here, he hadn't remembered the desert being this big.

This time, he was smart enough to avoid being seen by any of the guards. It wasn't hard, not after he'd been here before, and he had memorized where all the halls led to and which turns to take. Mother always did say he picked up on things quickly.

How he'd missed all this sand, though, he didn't know. It was probably because he was more focused on avoiding the guards and his father, but now that he wasn't being chased, he could stop and survey his surroundings. There wasn't much to see; it was all sand. It was only sand.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? There were no trees to hide behind, no water to drink if he got thirsty, just the hot sun to bake him alive as he tried to climb over the slippery and sandy mounds, and that was if his father didn't catch him first.

He'd never be able to escape this place. Just the thought of going out there, of braving the scorching weather all by himself, with no water and nowhere to hide all by himself, was terrifying. He was never getting out of this stupid place. He was going to be trapped here forever, and that scared him.

He didn't want to admit it. He wanted to believe he could get out of here, he wanted to believe he could find someone to help him get revenge for his mother, but he had no idea where he even was. Coming up here was a mistake. It showed him how lost he really was, how hopelessly trapped he was in here. There was no way he could ever cross a place as big and empty and hot as this.

But... Marth had. Yes, she'd walked days in the desert, just like this one. Wherever she was going to or whatever she was escaping, she'd traveled through the desert to do it, and she hadn't let the hot desert sun or the dry land stop her. If she could do it, Robin could do it too, right?

Marth is gone, Robin thought sadly, but if she weren't, she would want me to do this, right? She wouldn't let it stop her, so I won't either!

Even though she was gone, Robin could hear her telling him he could do it. He had to go, he had to try, or he really would be stuck here for the rest of his life. He didn't want that. He wanted to be free!

His leg dangled over the edge of the window. Robin took a deep breath. He was going to do it. He was going to escape.

Robin jumped.

"Nosferatu!"

Suddenly, Robin found half of his body leaning out the window, the other half still stuck inside. The ground below looked so far away, lurching and swaying toward him. If he hit the ground like this, he'd get hurt.

His arms flailed out, before they caught on the wall behind him, and Robin pulled himself back inside. Immediately, whatever had glued his feet to the floor disappeared, and the room spun around him as he landed painfully on the floor. Robin groaned, and he turned around to see who had stopped him.

It was his father. Of course it was his father, it could never be anyone else. That didn't make it any less scary, and the second their eyes met, Robin's blood curled up and turned to ice inside him.

The dark-skinned girl entered the room a few seconds later, and when she saw him, she pointed at him and said, "See! I told you he was coming here!"

She told him? What a tattletale! She had ruined everything again, and Robin would have said so if he wasn't glued to the spot by his father's stare.

"I can see, Aversa," his father said.

"Do... can I get anything for this?"

"Like a reward?" His father removed his eyes from Robin. The moment he did, Robin's heart began to beat again, and he finally let himself slump over against the wall behind him.

"Hm. Yes, a reward." His father glanced between him and the girl, stroking his chin. A sinking feeling began to rise in Robin's stomach, and he shrunk away, praying that the shadows would swallow him whole. What was his father going to say? A reward, that didn't sound good.

"A reward would seem to be in order." The girl's face brightened, only to fall when his father added, "but I'm afraid I'm much too busy for that."

"What?!" the girl exclaimed. "That's not fair!"

His father held up a hand to silence her. "I wasn't finished." His eyes glared down at her, then to him. "As I said, I'm much too busy to attend to you. Either of you, as much as I hate to admit." His father scowled. "As such, I am rewarding you with this task: train your brother in the art of magic."

Her brother? Robin's eyes flew wide. But then, that meant this girl, this annoying, tattletale girl, was his sister?!

He looked over at her, and she did the same. A stunned silence settled between them, neither one of them sure what it meant.

At last, the girl, his sister, said, "Teach him? But I don't want to! It's such a stupid thing to do!"

"Yeah!" Robin joined in. "She's so annoying, I don't want to learn anything from her!"

"Annoying? You're an ungrateful brat, how can I be any more annoying than that?!"

"You two! Be quiet." His father's stern voice cut between them, dousing their argument in an instant. His sharp gaze landed on the girl. "Aversa. A task can be a reward in itself. Be thankful that I'm giving you anything to do at all. Should you be able to complete such a stupid task by the time I have finished with my work, then I shall reward you appropriately."

"But–"

"I do not want to hear another word. Now, if you'll excuse me–" His father bent down and reached for him. Robin tried to pull away, but his father's fingers found the back of his collar all the same and hauled him to his feet "–I must return your brother to his room. Good night, Aversa."

His father dragged him away, scraping his clothes against the stone floor. As Robin looked back, watching his sister glowering at him as if it were his fault, Robin only felt despair for what lay ahead.

Not only was he going to be trapped here forever, but now he had to deal with an annoying sister too? What did he do to deserve this?

Chapter Text

Aversa knew her father was not someone to be questioned. Any decision he made was one hundred percent logical, and one hundred percent right, at least, that was what she'd been told by everyone else. Usually, she would agree. Usually, his decisions made sense.

But even she had limits.

"Father!" she yelled as she forced her way through the doors to the great hall, her dress smudged with black and her hair sprinkled with orange. The doors did not fly open as quickly as Aversa would have liked, but they moved fast enough to hit the servant girl standing behind them on her head.

Brushing past the fallen maid, Aversa stormed up to her father and said, "Why must I teach this... this insufferable brat?"

Yes, insufferable was the right word. That brat–Robin–three days had passed since her father had forced her to teach him, and he had been nothing but horrible to her. She didn't want to be with him as much as he did, but at least she'd tried to be nice to him, and he'd repaid her by trying to light her hair on fire!

Father would be outraged when he'd heard. Aversa was sure of it!

"Like I said, I'm busy," her father replied, the back of his robes cast in the shadows from the light pouring in from the window before him.

Or maybe not.

Aversa scowled. Yes, he was busy. He had made that obvious enough. "But why me?" With a pout, she kicked the floor. "Why not Ardri, or... or Cha–" Aversa's eyes flicked up to the window. "–or Ardri..."

"They have their own business to attend to. Business you should know better than to interfere with."

His voice dropped several degrees, and Aversa suppressed a shiver.

"But why me?"

When her father didn't reply, she said, a little louder, "I don't want to do this! Why me?"

"I do not know," her father said, and he raised a hand over his shoulder dismissively. "What would you like to do instead?"

She opened her mouth to speak, only to pause.

What did she want to do instead?

"I want to learn more advanced spells. I've already mastered the 'El-' level spells. You said I could move on to more powerful ones when you got back!"

"From who? Ardri?" her father shot back. "I don't expect him to be eager to teach you after you scared him off."

"Well he was mean to me, so he deserved it!"

"And now he will not be there to teach you anything else. That is why I've assigned you to teach Robin in his place."

Aversa clenched her fists, and her lips tugged down further. "But why can't someone else teach me advanced spells? Some other Grimleal, like... like..."

Someone like him.

"Because you're not ready," was his answer.

"Huh?" Taken aback, Aversa barely had time to react before she found herself staring down one of her father's gnarled fingers pointed right between her eyes.

"Look at you," he spat, with such force that, with such force that Aversa had to stop herself from pulling away as he waved a hand at her. "Already worn out from attending a child. Do you expect to learn more advanced spells if this is all it takes for you to admit defeat?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Aversa protested. "That's different!"

"It's not as different as you think."

Aversa didn't see how, but her father had spoken. Blinking back frustrated tears, she sulked and glared at the floor like it was the cause of this mess. Who else was she supposed to blame? Her father?

"Aversa."

Lifting her gaze, Aversa wiped her sleeve over her face and sniffled. "What?"

"I wouldn't have given this task to just anyone, you know." Her father slowly turned to face her, his face even. It wasn't a smile, but it wasn't a frown either.

"You... you wouldn't?"

"Of course not. You're special, Aversa." Slowly, her father reached down and stroked her face. Aversa leaned into it, embracing her father's touch, dry like sand. "Strong, too. Strong enough to force one of my strongest mages into submission."

"You're not mad at me for that?"

Her father shook his head. "Of course not. Such trivial action does not bother me. It does, however, leave me without anyone else to teach you. It's only fitting that you, as the strongest mage in here, teach someone so unfamiliar with magic how to cast, is it not?"

"But I don't wanna," Aversa mumbled again, looking away.

"Then how about this?" Her father's hands returned to his side, and his voice raised a degree. "If you teach Robin, I'll reward you handsomely. A warm meal, a new plaything, whatever you wish for."

Yes. Yes, that made sense. That was how things were supposed to be; you earned better things for yourself. If you wanted something, you had to earn it.

But she would have to take care of that brat. He was horrible, rude, and rotten to the core. Aversa hated him. Nothing would ever make her spend another minute with his terrible spell-casting, his hair-pulling, and his stupid little glares.

Nothing... except her father.

"Alright," she said quietly. "I'll do it."

Her father hummed, as if he hadn't doubted for a minute. "Good girl," he said.

His robes swept behind him as he turned away.

Arc 2 – Runaway in a Snowstorm

Some of Lucina's fondest memories were of her and her friends gathered at the center of camp, sitting around the fire. Even as the world was falling apart around them, they always had that to look forward to as night fell. It was always a nice break from the stressful lives they led; dirtied and tired as they were, as the last of the light faded from the skies forever tainted with dark clouds, they spent the final hours before the land around them turned pitch black resting, chatting, cooking, and telling stories.

Cynthia's stories, of course, were always about great and heroic deeds. Knights bearing sword and shield, saving princesses from bandits and children from bears, were what she spun her tales around. More often than not, the heroes of her stories found themselves tied down by whatever dastardly villain she'd pitted them against in the tale's darkest hour, helpless to watch as their loved ones were dangled over a cliff or the maws of a dragon to the sound of villainous cackling.

Lucina never thought she'd find herself experiencing something like that first-hand, but she'd never thought she'd be able to see her father again either, so apparently what she thought meant little.

The first thing she'd noticed as soon as she'd woken up through the annoying ringing echoing in her head was that whoever had tied her up cared little for how comfortable she was. The ropes they'd bound her legs and hands with bit into her skin, and the fact that she could only feel a slight tingling sensation from her limbs worried her. The spokes of the wheels she had been leaned up against were digging into her back, she was fairly sure her cape, or what was left of it, would be smeared with dirt and grass. Perhaps that was the intent, to make it as uncomfortable as possible, and if it was, whoever had found her had done a very good job, but that did little to lessen Lucina's already poor mood.

Which, of course, led to the second thing she'd noticed as she'd woken up; a pair of shining red eyes stared down at her, ones she recognized almost immediately.

"Mother! She's awake!" the girl standing over her exclaimed.

As she moved away, Lucina groaned and pressed the back of her head against the wagon in the hopes that it would muffle the squeaky voice still echoing in her head. It didn't, but the lumpy texture of the edge of the wheel helped her dispel the last traces of sleep from her head, allowing her to take in her surroundings.

Above her, the thick canopy tinted the sunlight streaming through a shade of dark green. White clouds dotted the blue sky, and the leaves remained still and silent as the cool forest air settled on her skin. The day was calm; a strange sensation, after all the chaos of the day before. Even now, Lucina could still feel the fringes of cloth graze her skin where her clothes had been torn open or burned away, and she was sure she looked a mess. It was tempting to fall back into the serenity, to let it engulf her, but any such thoughts vanished the moment that woman stepped in front of the small group of identical-looking red-haired girls and into her line of sight.

Crimson hair pulled back into a ponytail. Bright, flashy clothes, colorful like the outfit of a court jester. A long, steel sword hanging at her hip. That infuriating smug grin Lucina had never seen her without, a face that said everything of what she was and betrayed nothing of who she was.

Of all the people she could have ended up with, she just had to find herself with Anna, the Secret Seller.

Lucina groaned. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Ahem?"

Slowly, Lucina let her hand fall and met the gaze of the woman standing across from her.

"Excuse me? Can I help you, hun?" Anna asked.

Lucina grit her teeth and tried to hold back a scowl. "Yes, actually. I appear to be a bit tied up at the moment–"

"And you're rather lucky you are." This time, Lucina frowned, annoyed at the interruption, but Anna continued, tossing a pail of water that Lucina had just noticed in her hands into the grass. "If anyone else caught someone like you sneaking around their merchandise, they would've lopped off your head and tossed your body down a river."

Lucina blinked. "Someone like me? What do you–wait, you think I'm a thief?" She narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, miss. I am not a thief."

"Yeah, sure." Anna rolled her eyes. "Maybe you're not, but that doesn't change the fact that you were sleeping in my wagon."

"I swear, whatever you think I was doing, you're entirely mistaken."

"And I'm the Duke of Valm."

"What would I even be able to steal? I was asleep!"

"I don't know. What were you doing sleeping in wares?"

"I was..." Trying to get away from the Royal Guard? Like that would help her at all.

"Look, I didn't steal anything, okay?" Lucina said, shifting the topic as she moved herself to a more comfortable position. "You could check my coat or my boots, but I've somewhere to be soon, so if you could just let me go..."

Anna nodded her head. "I could let you go. But..."

"But?"

"I'm a businesswoman, you see." The woman planted a finger on the side of her face, and that irritating smirk of hers grew a tiny bit wider. "Everything I do, I do for a reason, and there wouldn't be much of a reason to just let you go, would there?"

"You mentioned something about not killing me before. Wasn't there a reason for that as well?"

"Oh, that?" The woman shrugged. "We're much too close to Ylisstol. Have you ever had to sit through an interrogation from the Ylisstol guard? Let me tell you, it's very time consuming, and cleaning up a corpse takes even longer–"

"And a second wasted is a penny spent, is that what you were going to say?"

"Hey, a girl's gotta feed her family somehow. Business is business. Besides, what would I have to gain from that? Nothing, that's what!"

Lucina sighed. Of course, what had she expected? When she'd met Anna in the past, she'd been just like this. Money was the only thing she'd ever thought about, and even if this woman wasn't the same Anna she'd known, they were all the same, weren't they?

Adjusting herself into a more comfortable position, Lucina said, "If you're not going to kill me, then can you please let me go?"

"Woah, slow down there, buster," Anna said, holding up a finger to silence her. Her voice was almost mocking, and it grated on Lucina's nerves to no end. "Just because I won't kill you doesn't mean I'll let you get off scot-free! I wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of tying you up just to let you go, would I?"

Holding back another groan, Lucina asked, "What are you going to do?"

"Easy!" With a metal rasp, the woman drew her sword. "I'll cut off your fingers!"

At that, Lucina choked. "What?!"

"It's what they do to thieves in Plegia, or so I've heard." Running a nail up the flat of the blade, Anna added, "So unless you want me to get chopping, you better start talking!"

"Talking? What do you want me to talk about?!

"Oh, you know. Who sent you, what they sent you to steal. You know, the usual fare," Anna said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not working for anyone!" Lucina struggled against her bonds, and though they were a lot less tight than the ropes that had held her back in Ylisstol, they weren't loose enough to come undone in a few seconds' time.

"Don't try to deny it," the woman said, coming closer. "You expect me to believe someone like you could afford fine clothes like the ones you're wearing? And that eyepatch too." She tapped it for emphasis, Lucina unable to do anything to stop her. "I know a Plegian design when I see one. You clearly get around, whoever you are."

A Plegian design? Lucina had never taken off the eyepatch to see for herself, but if it was such a dead giveaway, then it was stupid of her to miss it. Perhaps the people in Ylisstol Castle had been too wrapped up in the whole ordeal of her murdering the Exalt that they hadn't brought it up to her, but the least she could've done was check it as she was trying to escape.

"Look, I don't even know anyone who would want to sabotage you. You're the secret seller, aren't you? I'm sure half the merchant population doesn't know you exist."

"Well, you can never be too sure if you're in the business like I am." Turning back to the children gathered a few feet away, Anna said, "Watch and learn, girls! This is how you take care of competition!"

"Wait!"

Anna turned back to her and raised an eyebrow, but she didn't move any closer. That was good. That meant she was listening, and that meant Lucina wasn't about to lose her fingers.

"I'm not a thief or mercenary or anything like that!" Lucina said, shaking her head. "I'm a knight!"

"A knight?"

At the woman's suspicious glare, Lucina looked away and said, "A former knight."

"And what's an esteemed lady as yourself doing here? Don't you have a castle to get back to?"

"The Exalt let me go once the war was over, and my family disowned me for... treason..."

"Treason?"

"Yeah. I didn't come to steal anything, I just needed a way out of Ylisstol." An awkward silence settled in the air. "You don't mind, do you?"

Anna stared at her long and hard. For a moment, Lucina didn't think she'd buy the story. This was why she needed to remain anonymous; she'd planned on only making appearances at important events, she hadn't prepared a story for a false life or anything like that. This was something she'd come up with on the spot. If there were any holes, she didn't have time to correct them, and if she hadn't noticed the Plegian design on her own eyepatch, she didn't trust herself not to miss anything important.

After what felt like half an hour, Anna turned her skeptical gaze away from her. "Now that I think about it, the guards were being extra nosy last night. That was because of you?" When Lucina nodded, the woman made a noise. "And the eyepatch?"

"Spoils of war. It's not anything particularly rare," she said when she caught the interested glint in the woman's eye, "just something I found in some Plegian villager's home."

"Drat." The woman let her sword swing to the ground with a clang. "I guess that means I won't be able to get anything useful outta you, huh? Alright girls," she called over her shoulder. "Get back into the wagon, the lot of you! We're going to have to pick up the pace if we're going to get to the next town over before evening!"

"Yes, mother," the woman's daughters chimed.

As they scrambled back on board the vehicle, the woman spun around to look over Lucina's shoulder. "And you, Mister Gregory, why don't you load up our lady-friend here in the back? If she's some kind of traitor, I'm sure she'll fetch quite the reward, don'tcha think?"

"The name is Gregor! Not Gregory!" came the reply.

Lucina would have jumped if it weren't for the ropes holding her in place. There was someone behind me?! They were so quiet, I couldn't tell! was the first thought that went through her mind, before another one caught up to it. Gregor? Don't tell me–

Rough fingers grasped her collar, and suddenly, Lucina found herself hauled up into the air. She craned her neck up to see who it was, and sure enough, she recognized the rugged man towering over her as her Uncle Gregor. His face was a lot more smooth, less worn by battle at his younger age, but his eyes still held that jovial nature she'd remembered from him, and it was impossible to miss the color of his hair, orange-red like his daughter, Kjelle.

Before she had the chance to process it, the man dropped her into the hard wooden floor of the wagon. Lucina grunted in pain as her wrists were pinched beneath her, but Uncle Gregor didn't seem to notice, too busy clapping his hands together.

"Gregor is done! Now, we shall proceed, correct?" he said, walking back up to the front of the wagon.

Out of sight, Anna replied, "That we shall!"

The crack of reins split the air, and Lucina felt the cart rumble as it began to move once again. As soon as she was sure the woman couldn't hear her, she finally relaxed with a long sigh.

This wasn't ideal, of course. She was tied up, so she couldn't go anywhere until she found a way to work them loose, and the woman was going to sell her off if she didn't escape soon enough, but at least she still had her hands. That meant she could still do something about it.

Lucina would gladly take that opportunity.

As she wriggled around, clumsily working to slide her numb hands somewhere they could grab the ropes holding her arms in place, she thought she felt someone watching her. She glanced over her shoulder to find the woman's daughters gathered on the other end of the wagon. None of them seemed the slightest bit interested in her, though, because their mother was speaking to them about something now. Maybe it was just her paranoia acting up.

Still, Lucina shuffled herself until her hands were hidden behind a pile of magic tomes.

I won't get caught here, not this time, she thought. I'm not as helpless as I was before. There are no cell walls to trap me in. Whatever that woman tries to do can't be any worse than what I've been through before. I'll get out of here, no matter what!

Chapter Text

Lucina was hungry. The sun was already moving away for the moon to take its place, and Lucina hadn't eaten since the day before. Back in Castle Ylisstol, at least she had food, even if it was the soggy and stale kind of food. As her stomach growled for what was probably the third time today, Lucina once again found herself regretting her choice to run away.

Then again, what had she expected from Anna, of all people? Of course she would cut corners wherever she could, even if it meant losing out on human decency.

If there was a bright side to it, at least it meant that Lucina could continue to work her knots loose in peace.

The wagon rolled over another bump, jostling the wares stacked around Lucina. It was hard to miss how the clanked and clattered, and a few tumbled into her lap as she fiddled away. Lucina didn't mind the tiny forks and vulnerary bottles, but when an axe head almost chopped off her leg, she decided that it would be a good idea to move somewhere else.

Shuffling away further back against the wagon with her hands and feet tied behind her back was hardly an easy task, but with some effort, she managed to wiggle herself into a safer spot against a bag of what felt like medicinal herbs. Not exactly the most comfortable position, but it was the only position she could take.

No one else seemed to notice, or even care that she'd moved. Anna had taken to counting the coins in her purse. Uncle Gregor, sat beside her with the reins in hand, was trying to strike up a conversation that Anna had no interest in answering. Lucina would have felt sorry for him, but if she were honest, she didn't think she would have been interested in hearing how to prepare bear stew either. The merchant's four daughters all seemed caught up playing some kind of game with each other. One of them even craned her head over her shoulder to ask their mother for a drink. No eyes strayed her way, like they didn't even remember she existed.

Surely no one would mind if she turned her body so that her hands would be hidden from view. Surely no one would complain if she pressed her thumb between the ropes and twisted them just a little looser.

It was a tedious process, and one that offered little in the way of letting her know how much closer she was to getting out. When one cord seemed to loosen, another would squeeze tighter in a different place. Undo one knot with her thumb, and the ropes around her pinky would find themselves tangled up. Lucina knew she had to get it undone eventually, but how much her efforts seemed to get her nowhere had her fingers twitching in frustration. Annoyed, she tried to crane her neck to get a better look. They weren't even that tight to begin with. Why were they so hard to unwind–

"Miss Marth?"

"Ah!" Lucina would have jumped, but with her legs tied together, all she could do was flop to the side. Not exactly the most dignified position to be in, she knew. If her mother could see her right now, sprawled out on the floor, she would have words to say.

Dragging her face over the bottom of the wagon, Lucina lifted her head to see who had snuck up on her. A pair of red eyes blinked back; not Anna, this time, but one of her daughters.

Though, now that Lucina thought about it, the girl's name was also probably Anna. The Anna family was a strange one, having a tendency to name every daughter in the family "Anna", and while Lucina could have taken the time to list out everything wrong with that, she had much more important things to focus on, like undoing these knots.

That didn't seem to be shared by the girl. She was staring straight at Lucina, as if she were somehow more interesting than anything else around them. It wasn't like she was trying to attract attention; Lucina was sure her hands were still hidden behind her back. She couldn't have known anything about her trying to escape.

Lucina threw a glance behind the girl, and sure enough, her sisters were still on the other side of the wagon playing a game with their hands. Surely that would be more interesting than the prisoner sitting at the back of the wagon. Was something wrong? Had she noticed something?

Nervously, Lucina almost checked behind her again, but she stopped herself. If she snuck a glance behind her, she would give herself away.

"What do you want?" she asked instead, moving her arms further down and what she hoped was out of sight. "Is there anything you need? I don't have any money."

The girl tilted her head. "I don't want money," she proclaimed. "I want you to move!"

Move? Lucina's eyes narrowed. What was she playing at? In her timeline, there was always something beneath her words, and to miss what she was trying to get meant leaving with lighter pockets. As she slid back, Lucina kept her gaze on the little girl, watching in silence as she reached into the bag Lucina had been leaning on. She spent a few seconds digging through the bag, before she finally pulled away with a small teddy bear in her hands. The girl made a triumphant sound, grinning ear to ear, but instead of moving away, she plopped back down in front of Lucina.

"Okay," she said, pulling the stuffed bear close to her chest with a grin. "I'm ready for you to continue!"

There weren't many things that unnerved Lucina. Hardened by the tragedies and struggles she'd weathered under Grima's reign, she had seen innocent people ripped limb from limb by the Risen hordes, and yet somehow, when she saw the girl smile, something about it instantly put her on edge.

On anyone else, a smile was a harmless expression of joy. But Anna never smiled for something as pointless as joy, no–like everything else she did, she did for a purpose. A smile meant that you had something she wanted, and no matter what you did, she was going to have it.

Leaning back, Lucina hid her uneasiness behind a stoic expression, and she said, "Continue... what? I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

The girl twirled her hand in a strange motion that didn't help Lucina at all. Was she asking for her money now? Was this a robbery?

When she didn't immediately respond, the girl just rolled her eyes. "Your story?"

Her story? What was she–

A hazy memory came back to Lucina from the night before. As she'd slipped into the cart, there was a girl who'd seen her come in, and Lucina had told her a story to lull her to sleep. She'd almost completely forgotten about it, but the girl hadn't, and now she expected her to continue. She'd even brought the same teddy bear with her, and as she stared up at Lucina with expectant eyes, an uncomfortable feeling crept into her side.

If the girl kept watching her, then Lucina risked being caught. Even if the girl didn't catch her, just by being there, she was sure to draw sharper eyes. Plus, she couldn't remember where she'd left off.

"The story. Yes, I remember," she said, nodding. "Well... I was in the middle of doing something else. Are you fine with returning later?"

Later, like maybe after Lucina was long gone?

"Oh." To Lucina's surprise, the girl sounded almost disappointed. A twinge of guilt pulled at Lucina's chest, but she forced it down. Her mother was holding her prisoner. Why did she have to care about what the girl wanted her to do?

"Anna?" Up front, Anna glanced over her shoulder, a cheerful smile on her face as she called out, "What are you doing back there?"

All four of her daughters turned to face her. Lucina turned too, a moment of fear flickering across her face.

Had Anna found her out? Lucina didn't think so. Anna didn't seem too worried about her, so she hadn't noticed anything yet, and Lucina let her guard fall back.

For a moment, the four daughters glanced around at each other, asking which one of them she'd been speaking to. One by one, they all noticed that one of them had left the group, and all eyes fell on the girl sitting in the back with Lucina.

"Anna?" the woman repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm just talking to Miss Marth!" the girl replied.

"About what?" one of her sisters piped up.

The girl looked at Lucina. Ignoring Lucina's subtle head shake, she turned back and answered, "She was gonna tell me a story!"

"A story?"

And now all three of the other girls had their attention fixed on her. As they scrambled over to sit by their sister, Lucina let out a sigh, sliding her fingers out from between her bonds. Well, there went her escape effort.

Up by the front, Uncle Gregor chuckled, and not for the first time on this stupid trip, Lucina wished she could disappear behind the wares stacked around her. It was one thing to see him again, another for him to witness her tied up and sunk low like this.

At least he was still the same good-humored man she remembered him as. That was something she hadn't had the chance to screw up, probably because he had nothing to do with the Plegian-Ylisse war or Ylisstol.

"Oh, Anna," the woman said, huffing. "What have I told you about talking to strangers?"

"That wasn't me," the girl said, and she pointed to one of her sisters. "She's the one who got in trouble for that."

"Well, that's no excuse. I may have said it to her, but it's a lesson all of you should have learned. Come on, now. What is it?"

Together, all four of the girls replied, "If the deal is bad, leave it be."

"Exactly! Don't stay behind to haggle for a tale if she really doesn't want to tell one."

"But mom, she tells really good stories!"

"She does?" her sister asked, raising her voice in doubt. "I'll believe it when I hear it."

"Me too! I want to hear!"

Lucina shrunk back from all the attention, grimacing as the four girls inched closer each time she inched back. She glanced over at the front for help, but Uncle Gregor just laughed, while Anna shook her head.

"Can't you go back to your game instead of bothering the nice lady?" their mother asked.

"But mom, we're bored!"

With another huff, Anna made an "I tried" gesture with the reins. "Well, just make sure not to wear her out."

And with that declaration of surrender, the daughters turned back to her. It had been so long since Lucina had spoken to anyone under the age of fourteen, she had no idea what to do here! Why couldn't she have been caught by anyone else?

"Oh, and Anna, you said you needed water?" their mother said, and she unhooked a canteen and thrust it into one of the girl's arms.

The girl looked at the canteen, confused. "Mom, I didn't ask for water."

"Well then figure out which one of you did," Anna replied, waving a hand over her shoulder as she turned back to the road. "I've got to focus on the road ahead if we want to make it to the next town by tomorrow morn."

For a moment, all four of the girls stared at each other in silence. A silent message passed between them–an Anna thing, Lucina assumed–before the girl with the canteen handed it over to the girl on her left, who plucked off the cap and took a long drink. As soon as she was done, they all returned their curious gazes to her; something which Lucina really could have gone without.

This was weird, right? People didn't normally gather around their prisoners and expect them to spill their life stories. Yes, Chrom and Lissa had done that, but they lived sheltered lives in Castle Ylisstol. Surely normal children would be more cautious than... this?

They were looking at her so expectantly, too, eager to hear the first words out of her mouth, and she almost felt bad that she had no idea where to begin.

"Ah... well..." Her eye darted around, trying to think of a story to tell them. Should she talk about the time her friends fished villagers out of a Risen horde? Or maybe the time she had to pick out the remains of a bear tangled in a bush for lunch?

Dammit. I'll just tell them the one about the Risen wyverns and hope that's enough to entertain them, she thought.

And if it wasn't, well, that was no big loss for her. Hopefully, that would get them to leave her alone.

"Mom, are the zombie wyverns going to find us here?"

"Hon, zombies aren't real."

"But Miss Marth said they liked to eat families who traveled alone! We're traveling alone!"

Lucina watched from the wagon as Anna tried to assure her daughters that, no, they weren't going to be eaten by wyverns, with a small smile she kept hidden behind her shoulder. It was quite silly, but after everything Lucina had been through, it was a welcome change of pace.

Night had fallen, and with night came respite. As soon as the sun had set, Anna had stopped the wagon, set a pot over a fire, and gathered her daughters around a small, cozy blaze. The scene brought a smile to Lucina's face; there was something nostalgic about seeing a group of young children crowded around their mother as she handed out food to each of them, humoring all their antics and making sure they didn't do anything stupid. She'd witnessed families ripped apart, but seeing one that, for once, wasn't worried that they would live to see another day... it was nice. It reminded Lucina of happier times. Of carefree times.

No, she thought, shaking her head. Don't forget, Lucina. This isn't a normal family, this is Anna's family. She was a liar, a cheat, all for the sake of money. Even at the end of the world, the only person she cared about was herself.

So what if she had a family? Everyone did. It didn't matter whether someone had a family or friends. What mattered was how they treated them, and at the end of the day, Lucina still despised the woman.

Whatever she was cooking smelled delicious, though. A rich, meaty scene drifted out from over the fire and curled around her nose, making her mouth water. She would have loved nothing more than to take a sip of that to quench her dry throat, and she was going to get none because Anna didn't care for her at all.

The wagon creaked and shifted as someone hopped on with her Lucina looked over, and to her surprise, she found Gregor climbing onto the back of the wagon with her. Her eyes to the wooden bowl in his hands, steam wafting out from inside, and she almost smiled. Of course, she could always trust Uncle Gregor to remember she existed. Her lips twitched up, but Lucina brought her expression back under control; after all, Anna was still nearby.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes fixed on the bowl as Uncle Gregor set it down on the floor in front of her.

Uncle Gregor gave her a broad grin in return. "It is nothing to thank Gregor for, only human decency."

"Yes, I suppose it is." Nodding her thanks, Lucina reached down to take the bowl–

Only to remember that her hands were still tied up.

Well, that certainly made this a lot more difficult. Lucina opened her mouth to ask for help, but Uncle Gregor cut her off.

"Miss Marth tells good stories."

"Huh?"

"The one of the wyverns?" Upon seeing understanding dawn on Lucina's face, Uncle Gregor's smile widened. "Yes, Gregor heard it. It was very good tale, very interesting the things Marth spoke of."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Yes, very good." Uncle Gregor paused, before leveling her with a strange look. "But the things Marth spoke of, they are very peculiar, she knows?"

"Peculiar? How so?" Lucina tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice, but it was hard when she had the weight of the future resting on her words. Had she messed up? Lucina didn't think there was anything important she needed to withhold, but had she accidentally let something slip that she wasn't supposed to know about?

"Marth says she is a knight," he went on, looking out into the forest, "a noblewoman living inside a castle, yet she speaks of things as a well-traveled warrior. She has been to many places, no?"

"I–I have, yes." Lucina nodded slowly, her eyes narrowed and fixed on his face now. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh, nothing to worry for," Uncle Gregor replied, and he waved his hand dismissively. Then he took another suspicious pause, scanning the forest around him before he moved closer to her. "Is just... there is someone Gregor is looking for. Marth has been to many places, so he was thinking she might have seen him."

"You're looking for someone?" Lucina breathed a sigh of relief. "Are they a friend?"

"We have history. Is not important."

History? Lucina wasn't sure if she liked the sound of that, but from what she remembered of him, the second Plegia-Ylisse war was the first time he'd met the Shepherds, so it couldn't be anyone she knew.

"I'm not sure how much help. What do they look like?" she asked, leaning back against a stack of tomes.

"He is man. Bald man, no hair. Strange markings on face." None of that rang a bell. When she shook her head, Uncle Gregor added, "He has purple armor he is wearing. Spiky purple armor. Marth has not seen him?"

"I'm sorry, I have not." Seeing Uncle Gregor's disappointed frown, Lucina felt sorry that she couldn't help him. If he had found this strange purple man in the past, then hopefully there was someone else out there who would point him in the right direction, but Lucina could offer nothing.

"Oh. Well, it is no weight on Gregor's back. He is sorry for bothering you."

With a groan, he pushed himself back up, and he jumped off the wagon, leaving Lucina to wonder what that had been about as she watched him rejoin Anna and her family.

In the end, it probably didn't matter. There was no purple-wearing bandit in her future, so whether Uncle Gregor met him or not didn't matter to her. Still, she couldn't help but be curious about it. Maybe there was some interesting story she had missed from Uncle Gregor's past?

Just like she had missed her chance to ask Uncle Gregor for help with the food. The bowl was still sitting on the floor in front of her, out of her reach, and it would stay that way until she figured out how to get out of these bonds, taunting her with that savory scent dancing on her tongue.

Lucina let her head fall back against the tower of books behind her and groaned. Oh Naga dammit, what did I do to deserve this?

Chapter Text

Lucina liked to believe that growing up at the end of the world had sharpened her instincts. A shadow out of place in the corner of her eye, a rustle breaking the wind's even rhythm, alone they might have been invisible, but together they strummed the chords of a voice in her head that screamed she was in danger.

She had no idea how she could tell–it was unhelpful like that–but after years of learning to trust that voice, she knew, without a doubt, that someone's eyes were glued to the back of her head.

Slowly, Lucina scanned over the others, but no one seemed like they were watching her. Anna and her four daughters were laid out around the dying campfire, fast asleep, and Gregor was standing on the other side, his back facing her as he watched the road. A horse stood by the wagon, tied to a pole in the ground, but Lucina could tell by its soft snoring that it was asleep. For now, she was forgotten by the same people who were supposed to keep her prisoner, which meant that there was someone else here.

Lucina briefly considered telling Uncle Gregor. As an older and more experienced fighter, he might have been able to deal with her observer. If she got his attention, though, she ran the risk of him finding out that she was trying to escape.

Uncle Gregor was no Royal Guardsman, but in her time he had been one of the most skilled warriors she knew of. She didn't want him to notice that her bindings were more loose than at the beginning of the day, or he might tighten them again and undo several hours of hard work. No, if she wanted to get out of here, she was going to have to do it by herself. Something that was becoming a pattern lately.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Lucina attempted to slide her thumb between the tightly woven tangle of knots. Her spirits rose as her finger wiggled its way through, but when she tried pulling at it, the rope only clamped down on her wrists. She pulled at another cord to reset it, but it did little to settle her growing impatience.

This night had yielded nothing but hours of frustration so far. She would not give up was what she kept telling herself, but the temptation to do so was growing on her.

No, she thought, shaking her head. I'm so close to getting out of these bonds. The only thing standing between me and my freedom is a sloppily done knot. I will not let such a trivial thing hold me back.

Again, Lucina looked around for the pair of unseen eyes watching from the shadows, but not a leaf was out of place. Whoever they were, they hid themselves well. She would have to keep her ear open if they ever decided to approach her.

Her eye swept over the campsite again, to see if anyone was coming to check on her. No one did, though. Uncle Gregor was still keeping watch. Anna and her three daughters were still fast asleep.

She turned back to the rope around her hands, then stopped. Wait. Three?

Lucina checked again. No, she hadn't miscounted. There were only three girls laid down by the fireside. Which meant the fourth–

"Miss Marth?"

Lucina bit back a groan. Deep breaths. She needed to stay calm. If she raised her voice, she would bring more attention to herself.

"What do you want?" she asked, leveling a frustrated glare at the girl standing at the foot of the wagon instead.

"Why are you still awake?" the girl replied, and her head came to a tilt.

"Because I can. Go back to sleep."

"Can't."

The urge to get angry was there, but Lucina wisely pushed it back down. "Why not?"

"You're too loud?"

She was? Lucina glanced down at the wagon. She shifted her weight, and the wagon replied with a low creak.

"Oh," she said softly. Looking back at the girl, she added, "I'll try to be quieter."

"Can't you go to sleep? Mother says it's important to get lots of sleep."

"I–I'll try."

Pleased, the girl nodded back. "Okay," she said, and without another word, she walked away.

Lucina watched her return to the rest of her family, and as the girl slipped back beneath the large blanket draped over the rest of her sisters, Lucina was hit with a nostalgic pang. When she was very little, her brother often suffered from nightmares, so she always slept with him to keep him safe. It was ridiculous now, but it didn't stop Lucina from missing having him at her side.

I wonder how he's doing now. I hope he'll be okay with me there to protect him.

Shaking the distracting thought from her head Lucina fixed her gaze on the sleeping family. She said she would try to sleep. She had never said when, and as soon as the girl stopped tossing around, and her breathing steadied into a slow tempo, Lucina resumed her efforts to free herself. This time, she took care to move less, and to avoid disturbing the cart as much as she could.

Her thumb slipped through another gap, and this time when Lucina pulled, the knot untangled itself, leaving the rope to fall uselessly to the floor.

A grin lit up Lucina's face. Finally, she was free. After a week in the dungeons, and after a day tied up in the back of a wagon, she'd had enough of being a prisoner. She was going to take this chance for freedom and–

"Miss Marth?"

This time, Lucina jumped with a startled yelp. Her head snapped to the girl standing at the end of the wagon, and in an instant, she was on guard. How much had she seen? Was she going to have to run?

"What do you want now?" Lucina hissed.

The girl only looked confused at that. "What are you doing?"

"None of your business. Can't you go back to sleep?"

"I need to pee."

Sighing, Lucina nodded over to the bushes. "Alright, go on then. I won't watch."

"But why are you still awake?"

"Can't sleep. I thought I already told you."

"No you didn't."

Lucina certainly had, but she could already see that this would be going nowhere, so instead of arguing, she shrugged. "Please do your business and go back to sleep."

"Okay." The girl disappeared. Lucina waited a few seconds for her to return, but instead of going back to her family, the girl walked back to the wagon.

"What?" Lucina asked.

"Are you escaping?"

A cold jolt shot up Lucina's back. Nervously, she glanced down at her arms, still hidden from sight behind the wares piled up in the wagon. She couldn't have seen Lucina untie herself, could she? What had given her away?

No, she couldn't panic, not when she was so close. Deep breaths, Lucina. Think this through.

"Escape? No, of course not. I can't get anywhere, tied up like this," she said, and she lifted her legs to show that they were still bound. "What would give you that idea?"

The girl gave her a good, long look, before she replied, "I don't know. I just wanted to ask."

This time, Lucina's eye remained fixed on the girl, following her back to her bed and watching as she tucked herself back in. After a few minutes, Lucina shifted in the wagon, letting it creak under her weight, watching for a reaction. She received none. Lucina did it again, and again, the girl didn't stir.

She had to be asleep now. Hopefully, that would mean Lucina would have no more interruptions. Not until she was out of here, at least.

Slowly, as to not disturb the wagon again, Lucina bent over to grab the ropes around her legs. Now that she could fully see what she was doing, the task of freeing herself was a lot less tedious. This end of the rope went under here, that end went over there, and in no time at all, her bonds were undone.

"Miss Marth?"

Lucina twisted away, shoving her legs behind a sack before her head snapped to the voice. For the third time, she found herself looking down at the girl from the edge of the wagon. The girl's face betrayed nothing, blinking innocently like nothing was out of place.

Her again? Lucina thought. I could have sworn she was asleep!

"What is it this time?" she snapped.

The girl shrunk away. "I just wanted to ask what you were doing," she muttered, kicking the floor.

"I thought I told you already. Go back to sleep."

"I don't remember."

"You don't–" Lucina cut herself off with a sigh. "How could you forget?"

"I don't know."

Lucina watched her face for any indication it was some kind of odd bluff, but the girl truly believed they had never spoken before.

Was this girl from the same family of backstabbing, selfish merchants she had known in her time? Maybe it was simply the innocence of childhood–she herself was a fry cry from the careless little girl she had been years ago–but seeing her here and knowing the woman she could grow up to become still disturbed her greatly.

"Why are you still awake, then?" she asked, steering the conversation in a better direction.

"I had a nightmare."

Lucina frowned. "Well, couldn't you go to your mo–" Wait, she couldn't say that. If the girl woke up her mother, Lucina would have to wait until she fell asleep to make her move again. What could she say instead?

Craning her head over to lean toward the girl, she said softly, "What... what was it about?"

"Huh?"

"Your..." Lucina made a twirling motion with her hand. "Your nightmare."

"Wyverns."

"Wyverns?"

"Mhm," the girl replied, nodding. "They were gonna eat me. I don't wanna go back to sleep."

And that was a problem, wasn't it? Humming, Lucina closed her eyes, thinking long and hard about how she could get her to go back to sleep. What could she do? What had she done before?

"I can help. Come up here with me," she said after a moment of thought. When the girl hesitated, she added, "Don't worry. I can't hurt you if I'm tied up like this."

The wagon creaked as the girl hoisted herself up onto it. Lucina nodded toward the sack next to her, and the girl obediently plopped herself down against it.

Lucina whispered, "Don't worry, now. I'll keep watch over you and make sure nothing comes to eat you in the middle of the night, okay?"

"Okay," the girl muttered.

Lucina kept her eye on her, and she waited. And waited. She waited until the girl's breathing steadied, and she drifted back into sleep. Lucina cleared her throat softly, and when the girl didn't wake up again, Lucina let out a breath of relief.

Now, surely everyone was asleep. She would no longer have to deal with any interruptions, aside from Gregor if he ever decided to abandon his watch, and that frustratingly persistent pair of eyes still trained on her like a cat waiting by a hole in the wall.

That wouldn't do. If she was headed into the dark woods, she needed something to protect herself. Careful not to disturb the sleeping girl, Lucina reached over into Anna's wares. Anna sold all kinds of things, from strange medicine to literature imported from far-off lands, but right now, it was the weapons she sold that Lucina was most interested in. A metal gleam caught her eye, but when Lucina reached over to take it, she was disappointed to find herself staring at her own reflection in a shiny helmet. Trying again only yielded a plate of silver and an ornately decorated teapot. Reaching over for a fourth time, Lucina finally grasped something that felt like a handle, but before she could pull it out, a voice shattered the silence.

"Oi! Was Marth not tied up before?"

Lucina glanced over her shoulder. Uncle Gregor stared back. He had seen her. She had seen him seeing her. And he saw that she saw him seeing her, which meant that this was all a bust.

So Lucina did the only thing she could do. She bolted.

Behind her, she could hear Uncle Gregor curse, waking Anna back up again and raising a ruckus. Something metal clattered to the ground, chaos overtaking the silent night, but Lucina would never know how it would all turn out because she was not looking back.

She moved with the grace of someone experienced in weaving through the wilderness, ducking under branches and slipping through the trees, all pretenses of stealth abandoned. There was nothing to be done about it now, nothing else she could to do prepare herself for whatever was waiting for her out there. She just hoped that this... soup ladle... would be enough for her to defend herself with.

Wincing, Lucina glanced back down at the big spoon she had grabbed from Anna's merchandise and cursed her misfortune. Of all the things, why was this the thing she'd been left to wield?

As she dodged another low-hanging branch, Lucina thought, Gods, I hope I won't have to fight Uncle Gregor like this.

Thankfully, the next town over was only a few hour's walk from there. The sun had only just begun to peer over the horizon as the town walls finally came into view. A good thing too–Lucina hadn't slept all night, and she was just about ready to collapse.

Thankfully, she had arrived early enough that the guards on the night shift were still waiting for their replacements. She could see from the way their heads drooped that they were fighting off sleep.

A voice caught her attention from the road, and she glanced over to see a small family huddled together, approaching the gates ahead. Without a word, she pulled her scarf over her head to conceal her face, and slipped in line behind them. As she predicted, the guards barely paid attention to them, nodding them inside without bothering to check if anyone stood out.

And just like that, she was in.

"So... this is what towns looked like," she muttered, taking a good long look at everything around her.

It wasn't too different from the towns she had seen in her time. The buildings lining the streets were made of the same stone brick and wood material she and her friends had come across on their travels. Everything looked similar, it was just... livelier here. Children played in the roads, their laughter filling the air as their parents watched from the doorways of their homes. Up ahead, a pair of soldiers strolled toward her. Lucina froze as they passed her by, but they seemed too busy chatting with each other to notice her.

In her time, all this lively bustling about was nonexistent. People stayed locked up in their homes, too afraid of what the outside world would bring to risk wandering out into the streets, and the few that had to leave their homes scurried from house to house like insects afraid of the sun. It was nice seeing people be able to live their lives for once. What did they talk about? What did they do with their lives? Surely, now that they did not have to fear the Risen, there must have been so much for them to do with all this peace.

It won't stay peaceful if you aren't able to stop what's coming, a small voice reminded her, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, it was right. Just because she had years to wait until everything would finally go into motion didn't mean she could afford to lose sight of her mission. She needed to work hard to keep this timeline on the right track, and she had to prepare herself to stop the horrible things that would lead up to her father's death.

The only question was, how?

If only my friends were here, Lucina thought, sitting down by the side of the road. Maybe they could have helped me sort out this whole mess. With all this messing with time, how can I figure out what things I need to change without throwing everything wildly off track? With a groan, Lucina let her head fall back against the wall. I need some kind of plan.

"And what does this young woman look like, ma'am?"

"From the last time we saw her, her hair was blue, as well as most of her clothes. Her eyes, too."

"Really? That is quite the dedication."

"So I've seen."

"Do you have anything else for us to go off?"

Taking in a sharp breath, Lucina stiffened. Her eye flicked to her left, to the door just beside her. Through it, she could hear muffled voices, as well as the sound of approaching footsteps. She cursed and shot to her feet, throwing herself into a nearby alley as the door creaked open and a soldier and a Pegasus Knight walked out.

They were talking about her. That much, she could figure out. It seemed word traveled fast, and soon, the guards would be scouring the city looking for her.

I suppose that should be the first thing I do, she said to herself as soon as they walked away. She reached up to run a hand over her blue hair, and she frowned, thinking about how she stood out like a flower in a desert. At first, she considered cutting it, but she shot that idea down hastily. What would she even cut it with? The soup ladle strapped to her belt?

Simply hiding it would have to do. At least there, she had some idea of what to do.

After waving down a passing farmer and asking for directions to the town's marketplace, Lucina found herself following the crowd toward an open square in the middle of town. Stalls and pitched tents made up the layout of the place, only leaving the narrowest of spaces for customers to walk through.

Lucina thought she had seen a marketplace before, back in Robin's hometown. She couldn't have been more wrong. Here, the stores were loud, and the people were louder. Signs splashed with bright, eye-catching colors pulled at her attention everywhere they could, and all the merchants waving their wares in the air and yelling at people to come take a look rattled her already weary head. Her body was telling her to leave, to find somewhere more peaceful to take a rest, but Lucina pushed it out of her head.

You have to focus, Lucina. Find what you need, and then you can leave. A cloak, or some kind of large fabric I can turn into a cloak is all I need.

Pressing on through the extra noise and squeezing her way between people out to shop and excited merchants showing off their wares, Lucina was able to find a stall selling cloaks easily enough. The dull brown cloth they were made out of seemed awfully plain to Lucina, but then again, the whole purpose of this wasn't to find a cloak that she liked, it was to find something that didn't stand out, and she supposed that these garments did it well enough.

The problem was, when she asked for the price, the shopkeeper revealed to her that it would cost her twenty gold. Much too expensive for her, especially considering she had no gold on her in the first place, and much too expensive for her to trade off anything on her, so with a sigh, she decided to leave the cloak behind to search for an alternative.

You should have taken some gold when you escaped from Anna's wagon. She wronged you first, so no one would judge you for returning the favor, a voice at the back of her head told her, but like all the times before, she ignored it.

Thankfully, finding the fabric store was much less of a struggle, since it wasn't too far from the cloaks stall. Like the rest of the merchants, the fabric merchant greeted her with a friendly smile. Lucina returned it with a half-hearted mumble, already sifting through the various fabrics laid out on the table. This, she was confident she could do, since she'd already done it before in Robin's village.

"How much for this one?" she said, and she held up a pretty green one with pink stripes.

"Fifteen gold." Upon hearing the merchant's price, Lucina's heart sank. Fifteen gold was, again, rather expensive. The last time she had purchased cloth, she had gotten a good deal more for less, and she told the merchant so, but the merchant didn't seem fazed at all.

"Well, you won't find fabric of this quality anywhere else, miss," the man behind the table replied. "If you don't have enough gold on you right now, I can save it for you to buy later today."

"No thank you. It's alright."

Well, there went that idea, too. Glaring down at the fabric in her hands with a huff, Lucina considered her options. She couldn't buy a cloak because those were too expensive. Fabric was out of her price range as well, though much less so. The trouble was, she couldn't think of any other way to hide herself. She needed this, or she needed a cloak, and right now, this was the cheapest option, so maybe if she stuck with it, she could find a way around it.

"Will you take a soup ladle for it?" Lucina felt a little silly, even suggesting such a ridiculous trade, and when the merchant shook his head, it only made her feel even more embarrassed.

"For that tiny piece of junk? Sorry miss, I'm afraid you'll have to offer something more than that."

"Oh." Her eyes fell to the floor. Her brow creased in frustration, but she would not give up yet. Surely she was forgetting something. Surely there was another way to tackle this problem that she was missing–

A red blur passed in front of her before she could finish that thought. Lucina looked up, and she froze. Running down the road was one of Anna's daughters, her head frantically scanning through the crowds.

She was so busy trying to figure out how she was going to hide, she had completely forgotten that Anna had also been headed to this town, and with her daughter here, the woman would not be far behind, on the hunt for her runaway prisoner.

Lucina took a step back. She pulled the sheet of fabric over her head and wrapped it around her face until she was sure she was hidden from view. It wasn't much, she knew. Lucina didn't have time to properly hide herself, but right now, she didn't have time to make things perfect.

Further down the road, she could hear a commotion. She heard the clanging of armor, like those worn by the town's militia. Were they looking for her as well? Thinking back, the guards would also probably offer a reward to Anna if she ratted her out, and it seemed as if Anna had done just that.

Lucina turned her back and prayed that it would make her less recognizable. As long as the guards didn't spot her or ask her to turn around, she would be alright.

The guard's footsteps closed in. Lucina grimaced, clutching the fabric closer to her body. She heard the guards come in, but to her surprise, they ran past her in the opposite direction.

Curious, she craned her head over her shoulder, and peeked out into the street. She spotted Anna just a little further down, but instead of helping her, Lucina watched as the guards grabbed hold of her arms and dragged the woman away.

Lucina blinked. She frowned, confused. This didn't make any sense. Why were they taking Anna away instead of her? Though she was a distance away, if she focused hard enough, she could faintly catch what it was they were saying.

"Sorry, ma'am, rules are rules. All merchants from outside the city must wait until noon to enter the marketplace," the guard said.

Anna wouldn't care, though. Lucina knew from experience that if there was money to be made, that woman would step over however many rules she wanted to get it. Of course, this had to be about money.

Which was why when the woman spoke, it caught Lucina completely off guard.

"Please, you have to let me through! My daughter is missing! I need to find her!"

Chapter Text

Kidnapped?

The first thing Lucina thought was that she was lying. Perhaps some strange marketing scheme that she'd come up with to gain attention. The panic in her eyes seemed genuine enough that even Lucina could have been fooled into thinking that she was telling the truth.

Except... what did Anna have to gain from pretending one of her daughters had been taken?

Attention, perhaps, but attention was never the woman's final goal. It was always money. All this fuss wasn't worth it if it was just attention she was getting. Maybe one of Anna's daughters really had been taken.

With a huff, Lucina pulled the fabric down over her face. If Anna had lost one of her daughters, it was none of her concern. It would all sort itself out.

She turned back to the merchant, fiddling with the fabric wrapped over her head. "So... you would not take a ladle for silks as fine as this one? Then do you have any that you would..." she trailed off, and her lips pulled into a frown as she realized the merchant wasn't paying attention. "Ahem."

The merchant blinked, and when he faced her again, his smile was strained. "Oh! Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was asking if you had any cheaper fabrics? Ones that you would be happy to be rid of for... something like this tattered cloak?"

It was not ideal, Lucina would admit, to sell such a precious item. It had stayed with her through the end of the world, and she had gotten so used to wearing it, it was almost like it was an old friend. Through it had been battered and worn over the years, though some of it had burned away in the battle she'd fled from in Ylisstol, it was still hers, and–

And that wasn't the point. The point was, she needed these supplies, even if she had to make a few sacrifices for them.

"You're quite insistent on this, aren't you?" the merchant asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have no other choice," Lucina replied.

"In that case, I'll go back and see if I can find anything for you." With one last strange look her way, the merchant disappeared behind a pair of tent flaps.

Over her shoulder, Lucina heard Anna already rambling something out to the guards, details such as where she'd last seen her daughter, what she looked like. Lucina tuned it out, instead looking around at the colorful fabrics laid out over the merchant's table. She ran her hand through one of them, her fingers gliding over the fine texture. Sewing was one of the few things her mother had taught her before she died, so all Lucina would need was material to put together an appropriate disguise.

Not for the first time today, she wished she had Owain, Inigo, or Noire's skill in sneaking things away. She couldn't argue that these fabrics were well worth their price, and she would have gladly paid it, had she her purse, or any gold at all. As much as she might not like it, stealing was what she might have needed to resort to, were she confident in her skills in not being caught.

"–shall lead the search for little girl. Gregor is experienced in following footsteps, so he should find little girl for others, no?" A familiar, rough voice snapped Lucina back to the present. She looked up, and she noted, with some confusion, that Gregor stood at the head of a group of armed guards and men.

What was he doing up there? Is he going to lead a search party to look for Anna's daughter? she thought, frowning. Why would he go out of his way to help a woman like her?

With one last word between them that Lucina couldn't hear, Gregor and the rest of the men with him turned and broke into a sprint toward the town gate. As Lucina watched them go, it suddenly occurred to her that maybe she should step in. She had no stake in this search, that was true, but she could still tag along to make sure Uncle Gregor didn't get hurt.

Not that he'd need help from me, she thought. He's Uncle Gregor. I'm sure he'll be fine.

Behind her, the tent flap fluttered open again. Lucina spun around just in time to see the merchant walk back through, something brown draped over his arms.

"Here you go," he said, and he dropped the fabric in his hands over the table. "It's a little worn, but it's the cheapest I have."

Cheap was one way to put it. The cloth was practically falling apart, strands sticking out at the edges as if one pull would bring it all undone. It looked old and ratty, not to mention all the holes, but at least it was something she could use.

"It will do. Thank you," she replied. She pulled her old cloak over her head and pushed it across the table, and as the merchant took it, Lucina pulled the fabric toward her.

"It must be horrible, what that woman is going through," the merchant said. Lucina, busy with folding the cloth, only hummed in agreement, and the merchant added, "If it was my daughter, I can't imagine how I would feel."

"Uh-huh. Do you know where I would be able to purchase a needle and thread?"

Without a word, the merchant crouched under the table and produced a small crate brimming with spools of thread and a bag of needles. "If you want to buy one of each, it will cost you five gold for both."

That was five more gold than she had right now. Wincing, Lucina patted a hand over herself to see if she had anything else to trade away, but she all she still had was the soup ladle.

"Would you accept this soup ladle as payment?" she asked, raising it up over the table again.

The merchant shook his head. "Sorry, miss. You're going to have to do a little better than that."

"I'm sorry, this is all I've–"

Lucina cut off as something slammed into her back. Caught off guard, Lucina stumbled forward, but she managed to catch herself before she lost her balance. The same could not be said for whoever bumped into her, if the large clatter behind her was anything to go by. A few people shouted in surprise, and Lucina was about to apologize when the other person spoke.

"Ah, Gregor is sorry, he was in a rush and not looking where he was going."

Lucina froze. For a minute, she couldn't decide whether to respond or to run away. The one thing that her mind settled on was that, no matter what, she could not turn around.

"It's–" Lucina coughed, before she continued in a deeper voice, "It's fine."

"It is? Oh, that is good." She heard him climb to his feet and wipe his hands over his clothes, before he spun around to face the others. "Gregor is fine, do not worry. Now, let us get going! We must hurry!"

Noises of agreement rose from the group gathered behind him, and what Lucina assumed was a small crowd broke off down the street. Only when the sound of their footsteps had begun to fade did Lucina dare to steal a glance after them.

Was that... Uncle Gregor? Lucina narrowed her eyes, and she glanced down at herself curiously. She was by no means heavy. A lifetime of fighting the Risen had made her strong, yes, but she was still rather light, especially compared to a mighty warrior such as Gregor.

Maybe she really had surprised him, but there was still no way she could have knocked him over.

"Odd," she muttered to herself. She glanced at the shrinking group of people heading toward the exit, then back to her hands.

It could have simply been paranoia. Perhaps he had been a lot weaker in the past, and there was no reason for her to worry. But in the off chance that there was something wrong...

"Miss? Excuse me? Do you still need the needle and thread?"

The merchant's voice snapped her back to the present. Lucina looked back over her shoulder, and she considered it for a moment. After a brief hesitation, she asked, "I... is there any other way I could pay for it?"

Another branch snapped underfoot as Gregor pushed his way through the trees. Above him, birds scattered into the air from the racket he was making, but he paid them no attention. He had a girl to find.

A branch rose to block his path. A swift swing of his sword split it in half. Even as the branch was still falling to the ground, he peered past it and into the thick bushes littering the forest floor. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing that could indicate that anyone had been through here recently.

The forest was a big place. There was a lot of ground the girl's kidnapper could have gone over, and it could take him and the rest of the townsfolk all day to find his trail. That made it all the more important that they complete the search as quickly as possible.

Gregor hopes little girl is unharmed. He knows how vile bandits can be, he thought with a grimace. Gregor will not fail. He is swell-sword, after all. He will find her, he has no doubt, but he was paid to protect woman and family from harm. He cannot let the vile bandits touch little girl!

A bush rustled in the corner of his eye. In an instant, he spun to face it, his sword held out and ready to attack, but to his relief, it was one of the town guards who stepped out.

"Has guardsman found anything?" he asked, lowering his blade.

The guardsman shook his head. With a sigh, Gregor turned away and continued his trek into the woodlands.

"Hey!" the guardsman said, carefully picking his way through the bushes as he followed Gregor. "You know, it would probably help if you told us what exactly we were looking for."

"It would?" Gregor gave the man a confused look. "Gregor thinks he was very straightforward."

"Yes, well 'something strange' is not exactly the best description. How do we know if something looks strange?"

"Ah. That is not hard to see," Gregor replied, only stopping to bat aside a protruding fern. "Man carrying heavy thing like child, he cannot be very careful. Finding trace of movement, it should be very clear, no?"

"I suppose so."

"Yes, guardsman must look for things like broken branches, or bent ferns. Forest does not swallow footsteps, so it is not hard to find path where bandit has gone through like... like..." Gregor stopped, and a frown crossed his face.

A second later, the guardsman caught up. When he saw Gregor stop, he did the same, following Gregor's gaze to the trail left through the forest floor, to the bushes strewn aside and saplings snapped at the base like a cannonball had come through.

Gregor could have dismissed it as a very large animal lumbering through the woods, but the deep gashes left in the floor made it clear that something heavy had been dragged through here. The grooves that looked like the soles of sandals only made it even clearer what had happened here. To his right, he found at the end of the trail lay the campsite he had stayed at the night before.

His eyes widened, and he cursed under his breath. What? Bandit was there? How did Gregor not notice?

"Guardsman" Gregor replied, and he turned to face the guardsman. "Gather others, bring them here. Search party must make haste if they are to catch bandit."

"Will do." The guardsman saluted him, and he disappeared back into the forest. As soon as he left, Gregor turned back to the trail.

Just when he was about to start running after it, he spotted a flash of purple on the side. Narrowing his eyes, he knelt down to find a scrap of cloth stuck in a thorn bush. He pulled it out, and he examined it carefully.

The last time he'd seen them, the merchant and her family had not been wearing any purple. That meant that this could not have come from the daughter. So where could it have come from?

The bandit. That was the only answer.

A memory flashed before his eyes. A blood-stained axe. A purple loincloth, fluttering in the wind. A raspy breath tickled his ear.

Slowly, he rose to his feet. Gregor's lips pulled down into a scowl, and his head craned to peer at the end of the trail disappearing into the woods.

"So," he whispered, tightening his grip on his sword, "he is here."

Chapter Text

Anna was going to die. It was the only thought that crossed her mind as she was dragged by her hands over the rough forest terrain.

Why else would this man come in the middle of the night and steal her away? Her six-year-old mind could only come up with so many ideas, all of them equally scary.

Her foot caught on a root, and with a gasp, she fell flat on her face. Twigs poked at her eyes, her nose filled with the wet smell of dirt, and she just wanted to go back to the wagon and back to her mother where it was safe.

"Oi! Wot's got you held up now?" came a voice from above.

Before Anna could reply, a force roughly hauled her to her feet by her hair, forcing her to meet a pair of narrow, brown eyes. She tried to shrink back, blinking back terrified tears, but a pair of nails dug into her chin and held her in place. The man towering over her scowled as he yanked her head from side to side.

"Be more careful, won't you? Can't sell you at full price if you're damaged, and nobody wants that."

Anna wanted to cry, but the only sound that escaped the dirty, damp rag over her mouth was a quiet sob. The man didn't care, too busy looking over her skin for any marks. When he found none, he turned around and continued on his way.

"Naga dammit. I'm just gonna look at you later," he said, and he tugged on the rope holding her arms together. "Get on, brat! We don't got the entire bloody day to keep standin' around!"

"Where were they going? Where was he taking her?" she wanted to ask, but even if she could, she knew he would just hurt her to shut her up, like he'd done before.

It took all the strength she had left to keep herself standing as the man pulled her through the thorny bushes, and all the will she still had to push past the pain as the plants pricked her legs.

At last, they broke through the treeline and onto a dirt road. It stretched on and disappeared into the forest at the left and right ends, meaning they were already too far from the town for any hope of rescue.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the man yanked her rope suddenly, and as she stumbled into his side, he jabbed a greasy finger into her face and snarled, "Don't you even think about leggin' it. You are gonna wait right here with me until the wagon gets here. Then, you'll fetch us a nice, tidy profit for I and my brother at the market. You got anything to say to that?"

Anna just shook her head and whimpered.

"That's what I thought." As the man stood back up, he added under his breath, "Stupid brat."

She didn't want to believe it. Anna wasn't going to accept it. She was just six years old. There were so many things she still wanted to do! Someone would save her and bring her back to her mother, and she could pretend none of this ever happened.

But as the seconds stretched on, Anna was hit with the sinking realization that no one would save her. She would never see her mother again.

A wagon appeared at the end of the road, pulled by a single horse. The last slivers of hope slipped from her with every clop of the horse's hooves. Above her, the man smiled. Anna could only cry.

And then, she appeared.

Her war-torn cloak fluttering in the wind behind her like the wings of an angel, a woman stepped out onto the road between them and the approaching wagon, her stance steady and her boots planted firmly in the ground.

She looked so different from before it took Anna a second to recognize her. Marth had come to save her.

The man, just as shocked as her, sputtered out, "W-what?! Who are you? What do you want?"

Marth pointed down at Anna. "Her," she said.

"Her?" The man threw Anna a glance. A sneaky smile wormed its way onto his face, and he stepped in front of her. "What's it to you? You can't take my girl. Her momma would be so sad."

"Take me for a fool and it will be the last thing you do," Marth replied, as certain of it as if it were a fact. "Besides, I do not think her mother could be any more upset than she is now."

The bandit cursed. Before Anna could react, the back of his shoe slammed into her face and sent her tumbling back.

"Don't you even think it," he growled at her, before he turned back to Marth. "How'd you get here so quick? I had to walk a hundred miles to get here!"

"There are only so many roads that run through this part of Ylisse. I figured a bandit would seek the only road that doesn't lead into town."

"Well," the man snarled, clenching his fists, "you found me. What are you gonna do now, missy?"

"I'm going to put you down."

"Big words for such a tiny girl. You think you can order us around?" He shot a look over her shoulder at the wagon fast approaching."Oi, here's an idea! How about you surrender to us? I'd hate to ruin such a pretty face like yours."

Narrow blue eyes glared at the man with a fiery cold. Her lips held tight in an unbreakable line. "Not a chance."

"A shame," the man said. "I'm sure you'd have sold for a nice price, if it weren't for that nasty head of–"

The woman sprang forward and cracked a soup ladle across the man's jaw. The man's head snapped to the side. Blood spurted out his mouth. Anna watched wide-eyed as the man stumbled back, a hand to his chin.

"Wha–What did–" Slowly, the man turned to face Marth again.

The woman had barely moved, but the red staining the end of the spoon was proof enough that she had struck the first blow.

"You–you wench! I'll rip that pretty head from your shoulders!"

With a roar, the man tore the axe from his hip and swung for the woman's neck.

Marth ducked. The blade cut through air. Before he could react, she smashed her ladle into his chin. Teeth cracked. The man tumbled backward.

Anna yelped as her hands were yanked along with him. That got the man to remember she was there. His eyes bore into hers. Anna gulped. Her eyes flicked to the woman, desperate. Snarling, the man dropped her rope, grabbed his axe with his other hand, and raised it to block an incoming strike to the back of his head.

Marth cursed. Anna gasped. The man twisted his axe, deflecting Marth's blow to the side. Marth tried to step away. The man stepped with her. Her ladle swung for his head again. Again, he blocked it. Before Marth could retreat, the man drove his foot into her gut.

"Gah!"

She staggered back, clutching her stomach. The man grinned viciously. Anna watched, horrified as he reared his axe back to strike.

"Look out!" she cried through her gag.

A metal screech ripped Anna's ears in two. Marth's legs buckled beneath her. The axe stopped an inch from her face, its blade caught on the crook of her ladle. Marth wrenched it to the side. As the man struggled to raise his axe again, Marth lunged into his guard and drove her ladle into his chin.

Her arm stopped mid-air. His fingers wrapped around the handle of her weapon, holding it in place. Before Marth could rip it away, the man smashed his elbow into her face. She cried out. The man released her arm. Marth stumbled back again. Before she could regain her balance, the man was already swinging for her yet again.

Marth's eyes widened. She raised her ladle to block the strike. The axe ground against the kitchen tool, then snapped it in half. To Anna, it only seemed to slow for half a second. To Marth, it was enough for her to dance away from her attacker's range.

Suddenly, Marth's eyes were on her. "What are you waiting for?" she yelled. "Get out of here!"

The man's gaze snapped back onto her as well, and then Anna realized that, all this time, she'd been standing there like an idiot. The man snarled. His rough hand reached out to grab her.

With a roar, Marth grabbed him from behind and yanked his hands away.

"Move!"

And then, Anna was gone.

Leaves crackled and snapped as she sprinted through the unfamiliar forest. Branches swung out to strike her face. Roots dragged her feet down, but Anna pushed through.

The leaves above began to part above. Up ahead, Anna could see another road come into view.

"You ain't goin' nowhere, brat!"

Hands grasped at the back of her head and, before Anna could realize what was happening, slammed her face into the ground. The dirt muffled her cries of pain.

"I told you, you ain't goin' nowhere!" the man's scratchy voice bellowed from above her.

He grabbed her leg. From the corner of her eye, Anna watched in terror as he raised his axe. She tried to struggle, tried to slip away. The man's fingers only gripped tighter. The axe came down. The wooden handle struck her leg.

A horrible snapping sound broke the air.

Pain was quick to follow.

"Now look at what you've gone and made me do," the man said. "You see, this is what happens to naughty little girls who don't listen."

A scream tore itself from Anna's lips. She tried to push herself away. The man didn't stop her. He just watched, smiling as she flailed in the dirt. There was nothing she could do, and he knew it. He had her cornered.

Something moved over his shoulder. It was so sudden, Anna couldn't help but flick her eyes to it. Maybe that was what alerted the man to the attack. He looked over his shoulder and swore.

The metal handle in Marth's hands met nothing but air. The man jumped back, and his boots crashed back down into the dirt, kicking some of it into Anna's eyes. She fell back with a cry.

The man, undeterred, stepped away to draw his axe back. Marth rushed after him. The axe swung across. It would have separated her head from her shoulders, had she not caught it between the two halves of the ladle still in her hands.

Again, Lucina drove the axe into the ground. The bandit reached to tear it out of the dirt. Marth was quick to stamp out that option, just like she stomped her boot down on the man's axe and smashed her elbow into his face. A small victory, but she would take what she could get.

The bandit staggered back, blood pouring from his nose and bloodlust burning in his eyes. She'd pissed him off. Bandits were simple like that. Every motion they made, they made to kill. Killing and stealing were all they did.

That really helped when Lucina was at such a big disadvantage.

She was smaller than the bandit, she had no weapon in hand, and she had a girl to rescue. All the bandit had to do was kill her.

That was going to be a lot harder without his axe, though. The bandit recognized it too, as the second he recovered, he lunged for his axe.

Lucina knocked him aside with a swipe of the ladle's handle.

Pain shot up her wrist, returned to her from every strike she made with the flimsy object in her hands. Lucina ignored it and pressed onward. Every swing she took forced the bandit back. A jab to the next earned her a step away. A jab to the chest earned her a step to the side. Gritting her teeth, Lucina aimed a thrust for his stomach.

A hand crushed her extended arm and dragged her forward. The bandit smashed his fist into her chin. Lucina reeled back. Her foot snagged on a thorny bush. She quickly caught herself with her other foot. It wasn't quick enough to block the follow-up kick to her chest.

Lucina slammed into the tree behind her hard enough that the leaves trembled. The rough bark clawed into her back, but all she let through her teeth was a hiss. She swung her arms up to block an incoming strike to her face.

The bandit's fists crashed into her like a hammer. She could almost hear her bones crack with the sheer force behind each blow. Again, the bandit raised his arms and brought his weight down onto her. Her arms buckled. The bandit reared back for a third strike.

Lucina had no plans to let him land it. As his hands came down Lucina grabbed his arms and dragged him forward. The thorn bushes on the forest floor welcomed him with an open embrace, leaving him a cursing and flailing mess tangled in the undergrowth.

Lucina was quick to pin him down. The bandit struggled and kicked at her, but with the thorns holding him down, he was helpless. Taking the metal handle in both hands, Lucina pushed it over his throat and began to choke him.

His hands grasped at hers. His nails dug into her skin, hard enough to draw blood. Lucina's grip faltered. She responded by pressing harder. The bandit's gasps for air quickly turned dry and hoarse. He scrabbled at her face, but his blows weakened with each second. She didn't care how much he struggled. She was going to win this.

A part of her recognized that this was wrong. It was brutal, it was ugly. As much as they acted like Risen, bandits were still people, and what she was doing wasn't something that she should be doing to people. This wasn't a battle that needed such desperate measures. What did she care if Anna died here?

Any reservations she might have held vanished as something moved in the corner of her eye. Lucina whirled around just in time to catch a man swinging an axe at her. With a curse, she released the first bandit and leaped away.

A wooden snap behind her revealed a second attacker almost a second too late.

Lucina spun around and raised her arm to defend herself. Another axe soared under her guard and carved into her thigh. Blood sprayed free from the wound, painting the bushes red as she tumbled away.

She glanced at her leg. A nasty gash ran down her thigh. Thankfully, the blow hadn't been strong enough to chop it off, but it did mean she would be severely weakened.

"Oi! Vincent! You still there?"

Lucina raised her eyes back up as the bandits rushed over to the first one, forgetting about her for the moment. She tried to drag herself to her feet to stop them, but her weakened leg crumbled beneath her weight.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" the first bandit, Vincent, rasped. "What took you idiots so long?!"

As one of the bandits helped him up, he replied, "That don't matter now, boss! We gotta get outta here! There's a rescue party comin' to get us!"

"There is?! Well don't just stand there, morons! Grab the girl over there and go!"

"What about her?" the other bandit asked, and he pointed at Lucina.

"Her? She don't–" Vincent broke down into a coughing fit, before continuing, "She ain't going nowhere with her leg messed up like that. You ain't gotta worry about her."

The other bandit let his eyes linger on her, before he shrugged and leaned over to pick Anna's daughter off the ground.

"Help!" she cried. "Miss Marth! Help me!"

But Lucina could do nothing. All she could do was stand and watch as the bandits stole her away and disappeared into the forest.

No. She wasn't helpless. She'd been nothing but helpless since she'd come back. She could take action. She would take action.

Lucina took a step forward. Her injured leg trembled. Lucina suppressed the fresh wave of pain and took another step forward. This time, her leg collapsed. She stumbled, only to catch herself on a branch. Lucina pulled herself up. Pushed herself on.

The girl's helpless cries rang in her ear. Like a lifeline, Lucina grabbed onto it and used it to drag herself forward. She forced twigs out of her way, dragged her feet through the dirt, until at last, she came across the road again.

Up ahead, she could see the bandits helping each other into a merchant wagon, the girl hoisted over one of their shoulders. It was only a few more feet, but with her wounded leg, it felt like much longer.

A whip cracked. The horse at the front gave a loud whine, before the wheels started to turn. She could feel the mocking gaze of the bandits on her, so smug, so sure that they'd already won.

They hadn't. Not if she had anything to say about it.

Chapter Text

The bandit sneered at the woman from over the sides of the stolen merchant's wagon, watching as she slumped against a tree and glared at them with her one eye as they pulled away, her other hidden by a strange-looking eyepatch. Her face twisted into a frustrated scowl, like she wanted to help so badly and could do nothing but watch as they got away with their prize.

"Hey boss," the bandit said over his shoulder. "You think we should finish her off, boss? Put the poor thing out of her misery?"

"Nah. She ain't going to give us trouble, not bleedin' out like that," Vincent replied.

"Huh. If you say so."

The wagon's wheels hit another rock, and the bandit grabbed the side to steady himself.

"Hey!" he yelled back. "Watch where you're steering this thing!"

"You think I'm trying to get us killed? This thing's not easy to turn!" the driver replied. "It don't help that the beast at the front ain't in the mood to listen, either!"

At the front of the wagon, the horse whined in protest. The bandit ignored it, tearing his eyes away and back to the woman behind them.

When he looked back, he saw the woman push herself off the tree and collapse onto the road. It was a pathetic sight, watching her struggle to her feet, and as he watched, the bandit let his lips curl up into a smirk.

Vincent was right. There was nothing to worry about here.

Lucina's hand scrabbled for purchase on the tree branches. She could feel the blood oozing out of her injured leg, her body screaming at her that she could not go on. She pushed it down. And pulled herself up.

I've been through worse.

Her legs trembled. Weakened from all she'd been through. She hadn't eaten for an entire day, hadn't slept for a week. Her body felt like lead. A single step would be all it would take for her legs to break.

It's nothing I haven't felt before.

She was a survivor. She'd lived through the end of the world. The Fell Dragon had made her life a nightmare. His world had starved her, beaten her, stripped away almost everyone she'd loved. Like a hateful father, it had raised her bruised and broken. But it had still raised her. Despite how much the Fell Dragon's flames had burned away her skin, she still had her life.

When that was all the Fell Dragon was trying to take, that meant that she'd never lost to him. Not once.

"And that means... I won't lose..." she gritted out, "to a bunch of lousy bandits like you!"

Again, the woman pushed herself to her feet. She swayed, her legs shaking as blood dripped from the wound on her thigh. The bandit didn't think she would be able to take a single step without falling.

She stepped forward. When she didn't fall over, the bandit wasn't too worried. One step was lucky. She wouldn't be lucky enough to take another.

She took another step. Then another. And another. The flow of blood left a steady trail in her wake, something that should have left her weaker by the second, but her footfalls only grew faster. The woman's face scrunched in pain. It was clear that every step she took was a battle of its own, a battle she should have been losing.

But she wasn't.

"Uh... boss?" the bandit mumbled.

The woman's gait was hardly concerning. It was less a walk and more a confused shuffle toward them. She was still moving, though. For every foot they put between the woman, she gained back half and how in the Goddess' name was she still standing?

"Boss!" the bandit said again, louder this time. "Boss, she's coming after us!"

"What'd you say?" Vincent pushed him aside and followed his gaze. When he saw the woman stumbling toward him, he just scoffed. "That just means her cut ain't deep enough. It don't matter, anyhow. We'll lose her once we Braiden gets us goin'. Speaking of–" Scowling, he slammed a fist against the back of the driver's seat. "Hey Braiden? Why isn't we goin' yet?"

"Sorry, boss," the other bandit replied. "She ain't exactly listening to me yet!" As if to respond, their horse gave an angry neigh. The other bandit reached over to a whip hanging by the side and cracked it over the horse. "Shut up and go faster, horsey!"

The horse voiced its protest with a whine, but it still began to speed up. The bandit looked back. Already, the woman was beginning to fall rapidly behind. The wagon ran over a rock, throwing him from his place. He hissed. His hand grasped the side of the wagon and steadied him again. Behind him, he could hear their weapons rattle against each other.

Something bumped into his leg. He looked down to find the tied-up girl staring up at him with terrified eyes. He didn't hesitate to kick her back into the wagon, ignoring the muffled cry that followed.

The bandit glanced back at the woman. He met her gaze, expecting to see despair. Her eye just narrowed.

They were speeding up. That could not be allowed to happen.

Lucina leaned down. A mistake on her end. Her leg buckled under her. She stumbled. Her hand shot out before she hit the ground and caught her. She plucked a stone off the floor, and in one motion, she thrust herself forward, drew back her arm, and threw.

It wasn't her best throw. Heck, it was downright pathetic. The stone hit the floor before it could even reach the wagon. It skipped, bounced, and rolled between the wheels, missing them completely. But that had never been her goal in the first place.

Horses were sturdy creatures. They had to be, if they didn't want to collapse from all the muscle needed to go so fast. Their bones were built to hold their bodies up as they ran, and they were light enough to enable the horse to run as fast as possible.

But that came at a cost. Upright, they would hold, but apply force anywhere else and they would snap. Applying that force was just what she intended to do.

The rock bounced once, twice, and flew past the horse's legs. The horse gave a startled cry and swerved to avoid it. The bandits riding on top shouted in surprise. With them distracted, the wagon slowed.

Lucina took the chance to close the distance.

The wagon suddenly jerked to the side. The bandit hissed and grabbed onto it. He slammed into the right side of the wagon. Pain shot up his arm.

Again, the girl slammed into his side. Again, he kicked her away. The girl crashed into the side of the wagon with a cry. Apparently, it was enough to loosen the gag around her mouth, and the dirty rag slid off.

"Marth!" the girl cried. "Marth, help! Help me!"

"Dammit! That voice is so annoying!" Vincent said, scowling. A kick to the girl's ribs shut her up quick, and he gave her another for good measure. "Braiden! What do you think you're doin'?"

"It ain't my fault, boss," the other bandit snapped back. "Horsey here suddenly took a turn!" To the horse, he said, "Where do you think you're going, horsey? The road is this way!"

"It must've been something she did!" the bandit spoke up, and he pointed back to the woman.

She had already picked up another stone. She was running now, and with the horse slowing down, she was quickly gaining on them.

The bandit was sure he'd cut her leg. The line of blood in the dirt said that it was still there, still draining her strength with every step she took. She shouldn't have been able to stand, let alone run. So why hadn't she fallen down yet?

"P–please... help me..."

The bandit growled in annoyance. Vincent kicked her a second time to silence the girl, but to the bandit, it was one time too many.

"Hey boss," he said, throwing a look over his shoulder. "Is this brat worth it? You're already hurt, and this freak with the eyepatch don't look like she's gonna stop chasing us anytime soon. Why don't we just dump her off and ditch the crazy lady?"

"You're joking!" Vincent replied. "If we lose the brat, we ain't gonna get our worth in gold for our hard work. And my brother ain't ever gonna let me forget it either."

"So then what do we do?" The bandit turned back to the woman. He saw her draw back her arm for another throw. As she threw, her leg gave out under her. She caught herself on the ground as the wagon lurched again. The bandit thought for sure that there would be no recovering from that.

The woman just pushed off the ground and pressed on. Like she wasn't still leaving a trail of red in the dirt behind her.

She should have been the desperate one. The grimace stretched over her face clearly showed her struggle, but when the bandit met her gaze once more, all he found was certainty swimming in her one eye. She was absolutely certain she would win.

"Naga dammit! Why can't she just stay down!" the bandit hissed.

The wagon creaked as Vincent picked a bronze lance off the floor and handed it to the bandit. "What do you think we do? Me brother would say if you wanted her down, you need to do it yourself." He turned to the driver. "Oi! Braiden! Slow it down! There's a problem we need to take care of back here!"

"You got it, boss!"

The wagon slowed. That only seemed to redouble the woman's efforts. In a sudden burst of speed, she sprinted for the wagon.

The bandit didn't know if that was stupid or what. She had no weapon with her. She couldn't defend herself. All it would take was one thrust through the chest to end her.

She was closer now. Still running despite the wound in her leg. The wagon's wheels rolled over another rock. The bandit gripped the side with one hand to keep him steady. With his other hand, he aimed the lance at the woman.

Only a few feet away. The woman reached for the wagon. The bandit thrust his lance at her. She danced back. The bronze tip grazed the side of her hand.

A line of red split through her skin. The woman brushed it against her clothes like it was nothing and kept going. The bandit cursed. He'd been aiming for her heart.

"Miss Marth!"

The bandit almost jumped. His eyes flicked to the floor to find the girl wriggling next to him. When had she gotten there? He hadn't remembered seeing her move.

"Miss Marth! Help me!"

"Shut it!" the bandit growled. He kicked the side of her face. The girl cried out and slammed back against the wagon. Her cry satisfied him, only for panic to set in once again when he realized he'd taken his eyes off the woman.

He looked back just as she lunged. The bandit aimed his lance between her and the wagon. If she tried to climb on, he would intercept her and skewer her heart in one blow.

Except, she hadn't been reaching for the wagon.

Her arm snapped out. Her fingers brushed against the wooden shaft. The bandit swore and pulled it back.

The wench was trying to pull him overboard. He should have known she would try. It was always annoying ones who were the smartest.

"Hey, boss!" he shouted. "I need some help over here!"

Already, she was making a third attempt to reach them. Her arms stretched out to grab on. The bandit's lance forced her back. Her hands fumbled for his weapon. Another lance swiped her hands away. The bandit glanced over his shoulder to see the other bandit beside him. That must have meant Vincent was driving the wagon.

The woman snarled in frustration as she was forced to retreat. That gave the bandit a moment to catch his breath.

The wagon jerked forward. The bandit barely had time to grab onto the side to keep himself from falling out. His head turned over his shoulder, and sure enough, Vincent was at the front of the wagon, whipping the horse into a frenzy.

Vincent cracked the whip. The horse cried in pain, but it still sped up. The woman's eyes widened as the distance between them finally began to grow.

The bandit let out a sigh of relief. This battle was finished.

A cry tore from the woman's lips. "No!"

The woman sprinted toward them and lunged. The bandit cursed, fumbling to bring his spear back up to intercept her.

The other bandit was faster. His lance swung down. The woman caught the tip of his lance with her hand.

Metal ripped through flesh like paper and cut her hand down the middle.

Lucina held back a pained hiss.

It wasn't pretty. Pain hardly was. She could feel her muscles tearing apart from the attack. Her bones snapped. Her arm seized up. Blood splattered into her eye.

None of that was important. She'd finally had a hold on one of their lances.

With her other hand, Lucina reached up and grabbed the shaft. The bandit holding it gasped. He tried to pull it back out of her grasp. She would not give him the chance.

Lucina pulled down.

Shocked, the bandit watched as his companion crashed into the dirt. His gaze snapped back to the woman. With her other hand, she tore the lance out of her hand. Her blood sprayed all over the road. That didn't seem to bother her. Nothing did.

The other bandit had torn her hand open, and she hadn't even made a sound. Like she hadn't felt the pain at all. Like everything they had done had been nothing to her.

The bandit grit his teeth. This woman–this bitch–was a lunatic. Nothing they did could phase her, and for what? All for some brat?

The bandit shook his head. No. She had been chasing them for long enough. She had to die. She was going to die. She had a weapon now, but she was still bleeding out. He could kill her. He would kill her.

The woman thrust her lance forward. The bandit batted it away. For the third time, he met her gaze.

And stopped.

Looking into her one blue eye was like staring into an ocean. Light glinted off the surface with vicious triumph. Beneath them, he saw waves reaching out to take him and swallow him in darkness.

He would not let it.

"Die!" The bandit thrust his lance into her face. The woman raised her arm to block it. The lance stabbed through her. Blood splashed over her face.

"Die die die!" Again and again, the bandit tried to stab the woman in her stupid face. Again and again, the woman's arm was there to intercept. His lance cut her muscles to ribbons. Red ran down the sides of her head. Her eye twitched with every drop that came pouring into it.

And she still refused to falter.

"Dammit!" the bandit roared. "Why won't you die?!"

For the first time, she responded. "As long as I still draw breath, you will not escape!"

She jumped. Her lance streaked toward him. The bandit raised his own lance to stab her through her head.

Pain lanced through his leg. The bandit howled in pain. He looked down, only to find the girl from before, her teeth clamped down on his ankle. Somehow, she'd managed to wriggle over and take a bite out of him.

It only took a single motion to slam her against the wall. The girl cried out, releasing her grip on his leg. She'd distracted him, but only for a moment.

A moment was all it took.

The bandit swore. He drew back his arm and thrust his lance down. The woman's shoulder charged through it.

Bone snapped. Blood gushed free and painted the side of the wagon red. A pained grunt escaped her. With her arm wounded, her grip on the lance slackened. Her lance dropped out of her hand.

And into the spokes of the wagon's wheel.

The bandit paled. "Shit."

The guttural sound of wood bending and breaking was the only warning he received before the world flipped on its head. The sky hurled into the floor. The floor took to the sky. Bits of the wagon shattered and broke off, peppering him with splinters. The bandit crashed into the ground. All the air forced itself out of his lungs in a rush.

Dazed, he grasped at his eyes to keep them from rolling out of his head. It took a moment for the dizziness to settle. To his left, he could see the girl they'd kidnapped, lying limp beneath a pile of wood. To his right, the horse lay in a tangled bloodied mess of broken limbs, shrieking and whining for help. And above him–

"Wha–how?! How are you–" he gasped.

The woman didn't answer.

"What–what are you doing?"

The look in her eye made that clear enough.

"Stay away! Oh Naga, stay away from me!"

A shower of blood that burst forth as she yanked the lance free from her shoulder told him that wasn't an option. The bandit pushed himself back. His back hit the overturned wagon.

She wasn't just a lunatic. She wasn't even human. No woman could take so much and still be standing. Staring death down in the face, the man found himself drowning in terror.

"What–what do you want?" the bandit stuttered out. "You want the girl? You can have her! We don't need her!"

"So what? You can find another girl to sell?"

"N-no?" The bandit winced. The lie shone on his face, and he knew it. Her burning blue eye said she wouldn't have believed him anyway.

"I don't understand how you people live with yourself," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Selling children to make a living. We're all human. What makes you think you can reduce other people to a bag of gold? It could be the end of the world, and you people will still find ways to drag others down so you can stand at the top of a sinking ship."

Somehow hefting his lance in her bleeding hand, the woman raised it above her head.

Wood cracked behind her. The woman's head snapped around. She jumped to the side. A lance cut through where her head had been moments before.

"You bitch!" his companion snarled, stumbling back into the fight. He swung his lance around, poised to strike. "Don't think I'm letting you live after what you did!"

The woman replied with a wince, sliding her feet back in a combat stance.

It couldn't have been a fair fight. The woman was bleeding from all sorts of places, while the other bandit only had a few scratches from when he'd been thrown onto the dirt road. With one of her arms hanging off from her shoulder by a thin strip of flesh, the woman was forced to maintain a shaky hold on her own weapon with one hand. The other bandit had no such handicap.

And somehow, against all reason, the woman charged in for the first strike. She swung and swung, wielding the lance like a sword she could use to keep her opponent at bay. Her strikes were clumsy, but they were fast. The other bandit had no chance to step in and strike.

This should have been an easy victory for them. There was no way they could lose this. Could they?

Then the woman slipped. Her wounded leg buckled. The other bandit seized the chance and swung for her head. The woman caught it on the shaft of her lance. With a twist, she drove it into the ground.

The other bandit didn't miss a beat. Dropping the lance, he threw a punch at her. The woman caught it to the side of her face. She staggered away. Her foot caught on a wooden board. The woman dropped her weapon and tumbled to the floor. Snarling, she made to push herself up.

A heavy boot came down on her fingers. Small bones splintered apart with a hollow crack. The woman's face twisted in pain.

Standing above her, Vincent gave a satisfied sneer. "What was that you told me before? That you were gonna put me down?"

The woman opened her mouth to reply.

The other bandit smashed his leg into her stomach. Spit flew out of her mouth. Vincent's fist caught her on the other side. Her face snapped to the other side.

"Well? How are you gonna do that now, huh?" he taunted.

Through the blood oozing down her face, through the mess of blue hair falling over her eyes, the woman glared back. Vincent struck her again. Blood came out of her nose and splattered over the ground. Vincent lifted his boot off her hand, just as the other bandit cracked his fist over the side of her head. At last, the woman collapsed to the floor.

As the woman lay on the ground, dazed, Vincent turned to the bandit. "What are you doin' on the floor? Get up, so we can deal with this wench."

The bandit glanced at him, then over at the woman, broken and bleeding. Like she had been when they had pulled away.

That hadn't stopped her from putting up a vicious fight.

Shaking his head, the bandit said, "I think I'm gonna sit this one out, boss."

Vincent snorted. "Coward."

Slowly, the woman broke herself off the floor, only to find herself surrounded by a pair of bandits, both eager for her blood.

"You said you wanted to kill us?" Vincent said. "Still think you can fight us?"

"Fight you?" The woman coughed. Blood spurted from her wounds. Her arms trembled under the weight of her own body. And despite it, she smiled.

"I said I wouldn't let you escape. I've done just that, haven't I?"

"Lot of good that will do you if you're dead." Turning to the other bandit, Vincent said, "Braiden. Kill her."

"Sure thing, boss." The other bandit hoisted his spear above him. He thrust it toward her chest.

Red splattered over the woman's hair. The other bandit's lance crashed into the dirt beside her. The other bandit clutched his chest, a long javelin sticking out of his stomach. With a gasp, he collapsed to the ground.

With wide eyes, Vincent and the bandit glanced down the road. A group of men sprinted toward them in the distance, all of them bearing weapons and all of them looking more than ready to fight. The search party had finally come for the girl they'd kidnapped.

This must have been her plan from the start, the bandit realized.

"Boss! What do we–" The bandit turned to face Vincent, only to get a hand to the face.

Vincent shoved him forward, and as he stumbled back, the bandit leader turned tail and fled. "Take him!" he shouted, disappearing into the forest. "You ain't gonna catch me! I still gots lots to do!"

The search party was much closer now. Too close for him to pull any tricks, and with the only other lance in his dead companion's grasp, he couldn't hope to fight back.

Sighing, the bandit raised his hands in surrender. "I yield!"

He glanced back down at the woman, but she had already collapsed from her wounds again. The leader of the search party didn't seem to care. He brushed past her, already chasing after Vincent.

"Bandit! Come back at once! He must fight Gregor! He must pay for Gregor!"

"Gregor!" one of the men with him said, and he reached out to grab him. "Gregor, stop! We got the girl! We don't need to go any further!"

Incredulous, the party leader snapped to his companion. "Stop? We cannot stop! Bandit is close! He cannot be let to escape! We must kill him!"

"He's already gone! We have more important things to do!"

"What things?"

"We need to bring the girl back to her mother, and–" The man paused, and looked down. When he noticed the woman lying in a growing puddle of blood, he gasped. "Are you okay?" When she didn't respond, the man knelt down next to her and pressed a hand over her chest. "Thank Naga, she's still alive."

The party leader looked down, and when he saw her, he frowned. "This is–"

"You know her?"

"Well... Gregor knows this woman, but... is she alive?"

"She is, but she won't be for long if we don't get help. You'll help bring her back, won't you?"

"I..." The party leader threw a look down at the unconscious woman. Then he looked back at the forest, where Vincent had disappeared into. The choice seemed to pain him, but at last, he said, "Fine! Gregor will let him escape. But–" He raised his voice. "–let bandit know that Gregor will have his justice!"

Chapter Text

It would only take a moment, Emmeryn told herself. All it would take a moment to force the part of her that was still asleep to wake back up.

"Just one more minute of sleep," she groaned, clutching tightly at her bedsheets as she rolled her head into her damp pillow. "I'm not ready yet. I'll be ready in a minute."

Even as the words left her lips, she knew it was a lie. She would never be ready, no matter how long she waited.

The morning sun shone through her window. The singing of birds rattled the inside of her brain, too loud and too early in the morning for her. She just wanted to go back to sleep. She didn't want to have to worry about any of this.

But she knew the sun would keep shining and the birds would keep singing. The other nobles would keep arguing like that was the most important thing in the world.

Tomas would tell her that was her job. To keep them from arguing too much, and to keep them together.

Emmeryn breathed in. Breathed out. Breathed in. Breathed out. Breathed in.

Emmeryn didn't want to get out of bed. She wanted to stay here. She wanted to melt into the bedsheets and sink deep into the mattress where no one could ever find her. She didn't want to deal with all this stupid, stupid work.

But did anyone really care about what she wanted?

Someone knocked at her door.

"Your Grace?" Lord Bartholomew's voice came through her door. "Are you there, your Grace?"

Emmeryn wanted to shove her face into her pillow and hope he decided to leave. She wanted to ignore him.

Tomas told her to never ignore the demands of her people.

"I am here, Lord Bartholomew," she groaned from beneath your covers. "What do you need?"

"May I enter, your Grace?"

Emmeryn rolled onto her side. "Do as you please."

There was a pause. A silence that stretched on, and for a moment Emmeryn dared to hope that he had left before he spoke again.

"I simply thought to remind you that the nobles will meet in the Great Hall in a few hours from now, and that you will be expected to attend."

"Okay."

"I do recommend that you attend. Lord Redwind is in attendance."

"Okay."

Another pause. Emmeryn closed her eyes and listened for the sound of his footsteps leaving. No such luck.

Lord Bartholomew cleared his throat, before he said, a little softer, "Your Grace. It's almost noon. You haven't eaten yet. Have you?"

"I have not."

"You should come out and eat. Your siblings are getting rather worried."

"Okay."

He waited for a moment. Then, Emmeryn heard him leave, his soft footfalls growing softer and softer, until the sounds of the morning–late morning, actually–had swallowed it completely.

Emmeryn rolled onto her other side and blankly at the door.

There was a meeting. A meeting with Lord Redwind. Who would be stupid enough to invite him into Ylisstol, into her home, after he had sent his knights to kill her?

Oh. Right. She'd invited him.

She was regretting that now. She just wanted it all to be over.

Over how? a voice in her head asked.

She didn't know. She didn't care. She just wanted it done.

It was too early for a meeting. She didn't want to get out of bed, and she didn't want to go. She didn't want to stand before all those noblemen and noblewomen and pretend like she was their Exalt, even though she really was their Exalt.

Tomas told her a good Exalt was always on time.

I don't want to be a good Exalt, Emmeryn thought as she drowned herself in her blankets. I just want to be Emmeryn, the Exalt's daughter. I want my father back. I want Tomas back.

Another knock came from her door.

"Your Grace," Captain Madeline's voice called. "Are you here?"

What would it take to get one more minute of sleep?

Chrom looked up from his half-eaten loaf of bread and glanced over at the untouched plate of bread and fruit across the table next to Lissa. Like the three times he had looked before, no one was there.

"Nan? Where's Em?" he asked, crumbs spewing from his mouth.

Nan raised her head and blinked. "Oh. I don't know."

"Is she still asleep?"

"I have not checked."

"Is she hungry?"

"I don't know."

"Is she..." Chrom stopped himself. "Is she... okay?"

"I don't know."

"Nevermind." Chrom swallowed, then took another bite out of his bread. Again, he glanced at Emmeryn's plate.

She had to be okay. She just had to. He had seen her go to bed last night. She was okay then. Why wouldn't she be okay now?

"Please close your mouth as you chew."

"Muh?" A chunk of bread fell out of his mouth. Chrom watched it bounce off his plate, roll off the table, and onto the floor.

Chrom reached down to pick it up, then stopped. He frowned and pulled back. After a second, he reached down again. Then he stopped.

With a groan, he slid down his chair. He could pick it up, but did he really want to? He still had plenty of bread left on his plate. He could ask one of the maids standing by the side for help, but maybe now was not the best time to ask. Everyone was acting strange today. They'd been acting strange all week, but today most of all.

Was today special? Chrom had noticed Castle Ylisstol was more crowded than usual. Servants he hadn't recognized had passed him in the halls on the way here, and he had seen a bunch of fancy-looking carriages arrive at the courtyard. Was there a party happening today?

Chrom shook his head. No, that can't be it. If there was a party, Em would tell us. And she would know because she is the only one who could invite everyone here now that father is–now that she is Exalt. So what is it?

Would remembering help? Closing his eyes, Chrom tried to remember what had happened in the last week.

Well first, Emmeryn's caretaker died, he thought. I think there was a battle? He was killed in a fight. But that doesn't sound right. How could there be a battle in the city? But there was a clean-up, right?

He remembered some of the Royal Guards had been sent to help clean something up in the city. What else could they be cleaning up other than a battle?

Then after that, what happened? The Royal Guards helped clean up the city. Did the Pegasus Knights do anything? Oh, right. Em sent them to find Marth.

And then what? Was there something he was missing? Chrom tried to search his memory for anything he missed, but nope. That was all he had.

Everything was so confusing lately. It hadn't been this hard to keep track of everything before. Chrom missed the days when he didn't have to think so hard to remember things, but it had been two weeks already, and things still hadn't gone back to normal.

With a sigh, Chrom pushed his plate away. "I'm full."

"You still have food left over," Nana said.

"I'm not hungry." Chrom glared at his food, as if that would make it go away. Stubbornly, the food refused to disappear.

"I'm not hungry too," Lissa piped up.

Nan frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I don't want to eat it anymore."

Nan looked up at the ceiling and sighed. She made a motion with her hand, and the maids standing by the side came to pick up their plates, leaving him and Lissa alone at the table.

A second passed. Then another. Chrom sat at the table and stared, trying to think of something for him and Lissa to do.

What could they do?

They could play around the castle. Except... the last time they did that, they'd found something they weren't supposed to.

They could play in the courtyard. Except the Royal Guards were all busy, and most of the Pegasus Knights hadn't come back yet. If there was no one there, why bother going there at all? Chrom didn't know how to use the training weapons, and neither did Lissa.

Chrom turned to Nan. "Nan. Do we have lessons today?"

Nan shook her head. "There is a royal meeting in the castle today. I'm afraid we cannot risk bothering them."

"Oh. Why?"

"Her Grace has important matters she must discuss with the other nobles."

"Then can we go outside?"

"I'm afraid not. That would also be rather distracting."

"Oh."

Chrom continued to stare at the table, wishing he had something to do. For a second, he thought about asking to go back to his room to get some toys, but then he decided he didn't want to.

Slowly, his blue eyes scanned over the empty table. He looked over the crumbs still littered over the table, traced the lines running down the wood with his finger, before he stopped at the plate of food still at the table. Emmeryn's plate of food.

"Hey Lissa," he said.

Lissa glanced up from the table. "Hm?"

"Let's go find Em."

"Okay."

"Lord Chrom, her Grace is not to be disturbed–" Nan stepped forward, but Chrom was already picking up Emmeryn's plate. With Lissa in tow, he walked out of the room and headed straight for Emmeryn's room.

Someone was knocking at her door.

Emmeryn heard it, even beneath her blanket, but she pretended she didn't, pulling the covers over her head instead.

Tomas would tell her to stop being so childish, and to answer the door. Emmeryn just pulled harder.

After a moment, the knocking stopped. Emmeryn let her hold relax, and she sighed. Why couldn't whoever it was just leave her alone?

"Em? Can we come in?"

Emmeryn rolled over, and for the first time that day, she didn't feel quite so horrible. "Yes. Yes, please come in."

The door creaked open. Emmeryn's heart felt a little lighter as she watched Chrom walk in, Lissa trailing behind him like a shadow.

"Hello Chrom. Hello Lissa."

"Hi Em," Chrom replied, ducking his head behind a plate of food. "You missed breakfast."

"Mhm."

"I saved you some food."

"I know," Emmeryn said, looking at the plate of bread and fruit Chrom held before him. Though her stomach growled, it didn't feel quite empty. But he had saved the food for her, hadn't he?

"Thank you," she said, even though she was not hungry.

Peeling off her bedsheets, Emmeryn stepped down onto the floor. The carpet swallowed her feet as she padded over to Chrom, and even the glaring rays of the sun felt a little softer on her skin as she took the plate from him. She turned around and headed back to her bed, before she looked back. Chrom and Lissa remained by the door, Chrom swinging his arms awkwardly as Lissa fiddled with her dress.

"Do you want to come in?" Emmeryn asked, and she tried to put on her best smile for them.

Chrom nodded. "Uh-huh."

Like a pair of baby birds, they strolled inside in a neat little line. Emmeryn closed the door behind them, then made her way back to her bed.

The mattress creaked once for her, once for Chrom, and once for Lissa. As Emmeryn set the plate down on her lap, she stared at it and wondered, Well. Now what?

"So," she muttered, rolling a peach in her hand, "where's Nan?"

"Outside."

"Outside?"

"Mhm." Chrom pointed to the door.

"Ah." Emmeryn guessed she should be grateful for that. It would feel weird, having Nan in her room, no matter how close she was to Chrom and Lissa. "Well. The weather is beautiful today, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Chrom said. "It's very warm."

"I want to go outside," Lissa added.

"Then why don't you?" Emmeryn asked, giving Lissa a curious look. "Do you have lessons today?"

"Nope," Chrom replied. "We don't have lessons today. Nan says we're not 'supposed to disturb anyone. That's why we can't go outside neither."

"Ah. Right." The other nobles were here for the meeting. Emmeryn supposed that made sense. It wouldn't do to host a serious meeting as kids romped around the halls.

"Em? What day is today?"

"Today?" Emmeryn hummed. "It's Thursday."

Chrom huffed. "I knew that! But why can't we go outside today?"

"Oh. It's nothing."

"Oh."

Emmeryn glanced over at Chrom, frowning. Chrom looked at the floor. Looking to her right, she saw Lissa frowning at her too. They seemed hurt. And Emmeryn supposed they would be. She had kept a secret from them.

Other people kept secrets. Tomas had kept secrets from her. She was sure there were many more among the nobles who did too. But now that she had kept a secret from them, she'd learned how keeping secrets felt. It didn't feel right.

Secrets, she thought, were more trouble than they were worth.

So she said, "There is a meeting today. Everyone in the kingdom is coming to meet with me."

"Why?" Chrom asked.

Emmeryn glanced up at the ceiling. "One of them did something bad. I want to know why."

"What did they do?"

"They tried to invade our castle."

"Oh." Chrom kicked at the floor. "That sounds scary."

"It was." With another sigh, she started picking at the crust of the bread. This meeting was no fun. Again, she found herself wishing that she could miss it.

"Hey Em?"

"Hm?"

"You're Exalt, right? Can't you tell them not to meet today so we go outside?"

"Chrom, I can't do that."

Chrom groaned and fell back on her bed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Why not? Don't you want to play? It's been sooooo long since you played with us."

"It's not that. This meeting is important." Even as the words left her mouth, Emmeryn's lips twisted down. The meeting was important, that much was true. She just didn't care.

Some of that must have shown on her face, because Chrom's face settled into a frown. "Are you sure? It doesn't look too important."

"Well I have to go."

"But do you want to?"

Emmeryn wanted to laugh. Did she want to go? No. Goddess no. She wanted to be anywhere but there. She wanted to play with her siblings and forget all about all the nobles and their stupid arguing about what they wanted her to do.

An Exalt cannot ignore her duties. If a farmer does not take care of his crops, only he will starve for the winter. If an Exalt does not take care of her people, everyone suffers.

Tomas had taught her better. As much as she hated to admit it, there was one thing all those arguing nobles were right about. She had responsibilities. It didn't matter if she wanted to do them or not. If she ignored them, people would be hurt.

"Sorry," Emmeryn said with a sigh. "I can't. This meeting is too important for me to miss."

"Oh."

Chrom looked sad. Lissa, too. Emmeryn didn't want to be the one to turn them down, but what choice did she have?

"Don't worry," she said. "As soon as I'm done, I'll play with you."

Chrom's head rose at that. "Really?" he asked.

Emmeryn smiled. "I promise."

Because even if she couldn't say no to her responsibilities, she wanted to spend time with Chrom and Lissa. She needed to. No matter if she was Exalt or not, she was still a big sister, and she would let nothing change that.

Chapter Text

When Emmeryn had told her siblings she would play with them as soon as she was done, she'd assumed that the meeting would be short. She should have known better.

Apparently, all the other nobles had thought it was necessary to look at all Lord Redwind's belongings and hear every stupid thing he had to say before they could decide that he was a traitor.

She'd seen his knights attack her with her own eyes. Captain Madeline had even asked them after the battle, and they had told her they were Lord Redwind's knights. Who else could have sent them except Lord Redwind?

But when she'd said that, the rest of the noblemen had just told her to shut up while the adults were talking. They hadn't actually said that–Captain Madeline might execute them if they had–but they might as well have.

That left Emmeryn sat in the middle of the throne room, bored out of her mind as everyone around her listened to Lord Redwind go on and on about some letter he had written last week. Emmeryn didn't know what that had to do with anything, and she didn't care, either. She should have been playing outside with Chrom and Lissa. Could have been, if she had just told everyone else to go home and leave this whole business alone. But she hadn't and now she was stuck here until she grew old and died.

"–was not my intent at all," Lord Redwind finished, just as Emmeryn drew herself back into the conversation. She blinked and glanced blearily around the room. To her disappointment, it still looked like the meeting wasn't about to end soon.

Beside her, Captain Madeline, the person in charge of the meeting–because who else could Emmeryn choose for this–stepped forward. "Is that all that must be said?"

Lord Redwind scowled. "What? No! I've got lots more to say!"

"If you have anything more you would like to bring to the attention of the court, please present them."

"Oh come on. It's... you know..." Lord Redwind pulled at the ends of his long red hair and growled. "You know, it's just ... I wasn't... I didn't do anything because I wasn't there, okay? I was at Lord Arundel's castle."

"Which you've already mentioned."

"Er... I have?"

A low mumble swept through the crowd of nobles around them, coloring the walls with their robes of blinding blue and green. From the corner of her eye, Emmeryn saw a few of them turn to each other to whisper things to each other. Maybe that was good? Maybe that was bad? Emmeryn hadn't paid attention long enough to know or care.

Captain Madeline turned away from Lord Redwind as he struggled to speak. "I believe we have heard everything of importance."

"But–"

"Your Grace, what say you?" Captain Madeline turned to Emmeryn, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

Emmeryn jumped. "Um... what?"

On her other side, Lord Bartholomew cleared his throat. "Your verdict, your Grace?"

"Oh." Her verdict? That was easy. She didn't need to listen to everyone go on and on about nothing to know what was the right choice. Emmeryn pulled herself a little straighter in her seat and narrowed her eyes. "He is guilty."

The two guards stood beside Lord Redwind seized his arms. His eyes widened briefly, and as the guards began to pull him away, his surprised face turned into fury.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" he shrieked and kicked against the floor. "You can't do this! I didn't do anything! I promise I'm innocent!"

Some more hushed whispers. Emmeryn could barely hold back a long sigh. Were they going to try to make this go one for another hour? If they were, she wanted to leave.

Finally, the pair of guards pushed their way through the main doors, taking Lord Redwind with them, and the hall fell back into silence.

Emmeryn let out a long sigh and fell back into her seat. Was it over? It looked like it was. No one looked like they were going to force her to stay. Maybe now she could finally go and spend time with Chrom and Lissa.

They might be a little angry because I'm so late, but I hope a slice of pie will earn me forgiveness.

When she tried to get up, though, a blond-haired man stepped forward and raised a hand. "Your Grace, may I have a word before you retire?"

Emmeryn could have groaned right there, but she didn't. She fell back into her chair, and when she noticed his expectant look, she asked, "What's wrong?"

The blond-haired man cleared his throat. "I have no intention of questioning your authority, your Grace, but as a practitioner of the law myself, I was simply wondering... you're sure he's guilty, correct?"

"I'm sure. He sent his knights to help Tomas kill me. He's guilty."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw some of the nobles turn to each other and whisper. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was probably something dumb. Naga, did they ever shut up?

"But he had said that, in his exact words, he would never dream of doing such a thing."

"I don't care. He's guilty."

"But–"

"He's guilty!"

Her voice came out louder than she thought it would be. It echoed within the hall like a bell, completely drowning the soft voices around her in silence, and suddenly, Emmeryn became too aware of everyone's gaze stabbing into her skin. Even though she knew she shouldn't, even though Tomas had told her a thousand times how bad it would appear for her, she shrank back into her seat.

"You're Grace," the man said, crossing his arms with a huff. "Perhaps you may have more important business to attend to, but to a practitioner of the law, there is no business more important than justice, and the evidence is quite clear on the way the sword shall swing."

"It is?" Emmeryn tried to dig through her brain for anything else she might have heard that sounded important, but she could remember nothing. She couldn't have missed anything. Could she?

"And what is the evidence?" she asked quietly.

"For one, he claimed that his wife was the more likely culprit. He had no reason to establish a partnership with the Hierarch Tomas when he was accused of stealing the accused's prized horses, while his wife had recently exchanged letters with the Hierarch."

"I... didn't know that," Emmeryn mumbled. Maybe she would have if she had paid attention. Tomas always did say that her subjects were not to be ignored, but it wasn't her fault. She didn't even want to be here.

Another nobleman stepped forward and said, "Lord Redwind claimed to be at Lord Arundel's castle at the time of the attack, didn't he? He could not have sent knights from his castle if he was not there."

"That is certainly true," the blond-haired man nodded. "Any communication he might have made would have taken time to travel from Lord Arundel's castle to Lord Redwind's castle, then to Ylisstol."

"But what about the letter found in Hierarch Tomas's room from Lord Redwind a month ago?" A third nobleman said. "It has Lord Redwind's seal and everything."

"The seal proves nothing," the blond-haired nobleman interjected. "Lord Redwind claimed his wife had access to his seal as well. They are married, so it makes sense she would have possession of his seal, would it not?"

With every new thing that was said, Emmeryn only sunk further and further into her seat. A letter? A seal? What were they all talking about? This was all new to her, but they wouldn't have been if she had paid attention.

And it looked like everyone else knew, too. She could feel everyone's stares grow more suspicious by the second. It was like she was being poked and prodded by a thousand burning needles that melted her away and she wanted this to be done and she wanted to get out but she was trapped in here by all these nobles in this stupid meeting.

"Your Grace," the blond-haired man said, and he put those stabbing brown eyes back on her. "You can't truly believe this innocent man is a traitor, do you?"

"I–" She did? Because his knights attacked her? "I–" She didn't? Because of what everyone said she missed? What could she say that wouldn't dig her deeper into this pit of despair?

Emmeryn glanced over at Lord Bartholomew, then at Captain Madeline. Lord Bartholomew shook his head. Captain Madeline frowned, and she made to step forward. To do what? To defend her? To attack the blond-haired nobleman?

"Pardon me."

All the chatter fell away instantly as everyone turned their attention to the silver-haired man as he stepped through the crowd. The man swept his narrowed gaze through the crowd, before he placed a hand before his chest and bowed.

Emmeryn didn't recognize him at all. He didn't look like any of her father's men, and she hadn't put any new men in her court. She leaned forward to get a closer look, but nothing about him was familiar. His clothes looked strange, as did the little emblem on his belt. A strange little flower that didn't look like any of the flowers that grew in Ylisse. What was he here for?

Upon seeing him, the blond-haired man frowned. "Duke Verdigris. What do you have to say?"

"Oh, not much. Worry not for how long this will take, for I shall make it brief." The man, Duke Verdigris, straightened out and turned to look at the blond-haired man. "As much as I agree with much that has been said–truly, I do–I believe that her Grace looks a little overwhelmed. I can't imagine losing someone close, then being betrayed by another could be a simple matter for anyone, let alone someone so young. Is that true?"

When Duke Verdigris turned his eyes to her, Emmeryn realized that, if she said yes, it would make the perfect excuse. This strange man had helped her. Why, though?

She nodded anyway, and just like that, all the anger in the room cooled back into a small heat on her skin. Still hot, but not hot enough to really hurt.

Lord Bartholomew cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. "If her Grace is not feeling well, perhaps it would be best to wait until her Grace is better to call another trial, would it not?"

"Indeed," Duke Verdigris said. "Would anyone be opposed to that?"

A sound of agreement passed through the room. Even the blond-haired man only hummed, "I suppose there would be nothing wrong with that."

Everyone's eyes fell back to her, and Emmeryn couldn't nod again fast enough. "Yes. I think I would like that," she said. She turned to Captain Madeline.

"If that is what her Grace wishes, then it shall be done," Captain Madeline said, clapping her hands. "Until further notice, this court is adjourned."

Duke Verdigris, of Rosanne. That was what Captain Madeline had told Emmeryn his name was when she'd asked later. Captain Madeline had said that he was a guest of Lord Ardunel's.

Emmeryn thought that it wasn't good for guests to interrupt meetings with Ylissean nobility, but if the other nobles knew him well enough to let him speak, then Emmeryn wasn't going to ask Captain Madeline to tell him off. Besides, he had helped her. She wasn't going to complain about that.

I still don't know why he helped me, Emmeryn thought as she lifted aside a freshly baked loaf of bread sitting on the kitchen counter that smelled of dry wheat and butter flakes. Is he going to try to kill me too? Like Tomas did?

Captain Madeline and her Pegasus Knights were speaking with him right now. She'd told Captain Madeline it was just in case he knew anything about Lord Redwind, but maybe this would also show that he would try to kill her later. Or maybe it wouldn't.

Maybe I should have gone with Captain Madeline. Then I could ask what he wanted, Emmeryn thought, and she moved a plate with a cooked turkey off one counter and to another.

"Ow!"

Emmeryn almost dropped the plate, startled. She glanced left, and by her side, a small mousy-haired servant girl shrank away from her gaze. There was something under her foot, too, and when Emmeryn glanced down, she saw her foot planted firmly over the servant girl's. While she was lost in her thoughts, she had stepped on her feet.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Emmeryn gasped, and she stepped back to place the turkey down and crouch by the girl's side. "I was distracted. Are you okay?"

The girl looked away, and she hid something behind her back. "Oh no, I'm sorry for getting in your way."

Emmeryn frowned at that. Why was this girl apologizing? She was the one at fault here. "There is nothing for you to apologize for. I'm not even supposed to be here."

"Do you want more cake?"

"Huh?" Emmeryn's eyes narrowed. Why would she want more cake? And where had she heard that before?

Now that she had finally stopped to take a good, long look at the girl, she seemed familiar. Emmeryn had seen her before, which wasn't weird because she saw servants all the time, but what was weird was how Emmeryn felt like she was supposed to know who she was.

When she saw the tiny orange flower tucked behind her ear, it came back to Emmeryn. The storage closet. The girl with the cake. Her eyes widened in recognition.

"It's you!" Emmeryn said, and her face brightened.

"Me?" The girl became even smaller. "W–what did I do? Did I say something wrong?"

"What? No!" Emmeryn shook her head quickly. "No, I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? What did I do?"

"You... um..." Emmeryn paused to scratch at her head, and she looked around like she would find the right words hiding in the corner. "You helped me feel better."

"O–oh. Okay," the girl said, in a voice so quiet the breeze from outside the windows almost drowned it. She reminded Emmeryn of Lissa.

"Hey," Emmeryn said, and she leaned over so she was in front of her. "What's your name?"

"Um... Sumia?"

"Sumia. It's nice to meet you, Sumia." Emmeryn held out her hand for Sumia to shake. Sumia's hands remained behind her back, but that was okay. She was probably holding something important.

"So... does your mother work here?"

Sumia looked up for a second, nodded, then shook her head.

"So she does?"

"Sometimes."

"Oh. That's good. Does she know where the pies are? I need to find some for my siblings."

"Pies for the Prince and Princess?" Sumia opened her mouth, then stopped. She looked away and frowned, closing her mouth, opening it, then closing it again like she wanted to say something but couldn't. Finally, she moved her hands out from behind her back and shoved what was in them into Emmeryn's face.

It was a pie. A big, strawberry pie.

"My mom made this for the Prince and Princess. She told me to bring it to them, but now you can do it instead," Sumia said, staring at the floor.

"Oh. Thanks," Emmeryn replied. She took the pie from the girl's hands, and as the spotty smell of sweet strawberry syrup filled her nose, she could almost forget all about Lord Redwind and Duke Verdigris and all her worries about the meeting that waited for her in the future.

This pie was good. Emmeryn was almost tempted to eat it right then and there, but she managed to control herself.

Emmeryn nodded at the girl. "Thank you, Sumia."

"You're welcome," Sumia whispered.

Emmeryn watched as Sumia turned around and headed deeper back into the kitchen, and when she looked back at the pie in her hands, she smiled.

Maybe it would be nice for her to come here again.

Chapter Text

Chrom never liked to wait. It was something Emmeryn and Nan always scolded him for it, but he couldn't help it. When he wanted something, he wanted it now.

Emmeryn said that she would play with them when she was done, but that was forever ago. Chrom was getting bored, and when he got bored, he needed to find something to do.

"Lissa? What do you want to do?" he asked, staring up at the sky as he laid over the stone floor of the courtyard.

Next to him, Lissa bounced her straw doll off the floor and shrugged. "I don't know."

Chrom puffed out his cheeks and blew it out. His stomach growled. Nan had said she would make them a pie, but she was also taking way too long.

"I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" He pushed off the ground and looked at Lissa. She nodded.

"Then let's go find the kitchen!"

Chrom knew almost everything about Castle Ylisstol. He, Lissa, and Em had spent so much time exploring the halls that he could go anywhere all by himself. He knew that the kitchen was just past the Great Hall, where Em would be. A small part of him wanted to take a look inside, but she had told him the meeting was important.

Whenever father had been in important meetings, he would get upset if they interrupted him. Emmeryn probably would be too, so when Chrom saw the doors to the Great Hall, he shushed Lissa and motioned for her to be quiet.

As he got closer, however, he sensed that something was wrong. First, the door was slightly open. Second, there was someone standing right next to it. Chrom couldn't tell who it was because of the dark blue hood pulled over his head, but Chrom was sure he had never seen them before.

Checking to see if Lissa was still behind him, he put his hand out to stop her, and he stepped toward the man. "Hey! Who are you?"

The man's head snapped around. Chrom caught a flash of orange hair, brown eyes, something silver and sharp.

Sword. Chrom was staring down the tip of a sword.

It took him a moment to realize that, but by the time his eyes started to widen the sword was inches from his face.

"Wha–"

Lissa yanked on his shirt and screamed. The sword sailed over his head and now Chrom was screaming too.

Someone was trying to kill him. Someone was here, and they were trying to kill him.

The man lunged and stabbed him again. This time, Chrom's feet moved on her own, throwing him to the side before the man could stab him through the heart.

"Help!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Someone help!"

But nobody came. The doors remained the same as they were before; slightly open and quiet.

"Em! We're here! There's someone here! Help!" he yelled. The door was open. His words had to reach her. She had to come in and save them at any moment!

But she never did.

Maybe she couldn't hear them. Maybe she was too busy. Maybe whatever stupid thing she was talking about was more important than saving them.

Right now, Chrom didn't care about that because he was going to die.

He and Lissa were all alone. So he grabbed Lissa's hand and ran, as fast as he could go. Anywhere that wasn't here.

The hallways passed by in a blur. Above them, the torches flickered and blew past him, and the long shadows twitched with his steps. Chrom could hear the man's footsteps thundering behind him. He glanced behind him.

The sword was gone. In his hands, he held a long, curved stick. One arm came back.

A bow and arrow, his brain told him the second the man let go.

"Here!" As the word tore itself from Chrom's throat, he grabbed Lissa's hand and yanked her into a nearby doorway.

An arrow ripped through where they had been a second ago.

They needed to find help. The Royal Guards, the Pegasus Knights, anyone.

Light washed over them, and then, he ran headfirst into someone.

Chrom fell back and landed on his back. Lissa yelped, and she followed him to the floor.

The sun looked down at him, clouds smeared against the clear blue sky.

Outside. They were outside again, in a different courtyard. This one had a tree in the middle, and right in front of him... there was another, older boy. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a long stick in his hands. A wood lance.

Someone who could help them.

"H-help!" Chrom sputtered out, the words sticking to the inside of his throat. "You have to help us! Someone is trying to kill us."

The boy frowned. "There is? Where?"

Chrom pointed back to where he and Lissa had come from. The boy clutched his lance, padded over, and looked around the corner.

He waited. Nothing happened.

"There's no one there," the boy said, and he folded his arms across his chest.

"But there was! He was trying to kill us!"

The boy looked like he didn't believe him one bit. He looked at him like he was trying to pretend they were in danger. But they weren't! Chrom knew what he saw. Someone had been trying to kill him.

"I'm serious!" he said.

The boy shook his head. "That's not possible. My mother would never let anyone like that inside."

Chrom clenched his fist. "But she did! She must have made a mistake!"

"No she didn't. My mother is captain of the Pegasus Knights, and she's too strong to make mistakes."

"Oh yeah? W-well your mother–your mother is a–"

Emmeryn liked to think she knew her siblings very well. As the oldest, she had been with them for their entire lives. She read them stories and kissed them goodnight while Father was away. When the wind blew storms from over the sea, she let them into her room and held them close while the storm raged overhead. Emmeryn had helped raise them, and she didn't think Chrom was a very angry person.

Which was why, when she found him in the courtyard trying to fight another boy as Lissa watched from the corner with wide eyes, she was so surprised she almost dropped the pie she was holding.

"Chrom? What are you doing?" she asked.

Immediately, Chrom froze. It probably would have been better to make sure he knew she was there first, because as soon as he looked away, the other boy hit him in the face.

Emmeryn gasped. Chrom hit the floor with a thud, but to her surprise, he pushed himself back up.

"That's not fair!" he growled.

The other boy scowled and crossed his arms. "Life isn't fair."

"Chrom, what is going on–" but before she could finish, Chrom was already charging at the boy again with an angry yell.

"Give it back! Give it back now!" Chrom swung wildly at the boy, but the taller boy just pulled back his arm and punched Chrom in the nose before he could get close.

Something cracked. Emmeryn winced as Chrom stumbled back, but Chrom just wiped at his nose and charged again, twice as angry.

Something red dripped to the floor. Blood.

This had to stop. She had to stop this. Chrom was bleeding, and he was being hurt. He could die.

Any other time, maybe she would have known that was stupid, but when she saw the blood on his face, she had no time to think.

The boy pulled back his arm. So did Chrom. They both swung.

"Stop it–"

Emmeryn cut off as Chrom's fist smashed into her face, and her head exploded into stars. The world spun up, over, and around, and suddenly, Emmeryn found herself lying on the cold stone floor, sticky pie stuffing sticking to her favorite yellow dress. A soft breeze blew over her face and made her nose itch.

That was a stupid idea, was the first thought that came to her head. Chrom is stupid. This is stupid. Something wet is running down my face, and Gods, my head hurts so much.

Then, Chrom's voice ripped them to shreds. "Em!" he screamed, and he rushed to her side. "Em! Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Beside him, the boy appeared worried too, his brows knitted together, but one glance at Chrom and he sealed his lips.

"Chrom," Emmeryn groaned, "why were you fighting?"

Chrom looked at the boy. The boy looked back at him. Chrom pouted, and he pointed to the boy. "He started it!"

"I did not. You started it first," the boy said, crossing his arms.

Between them, Emmeryn sighed and put her arm over her eyes. She loved her brother, she really did. Chrom was such a sweet boy, but now... with strawberries running down her dress and her head still making that annoying ringing sound, she didn't know if she wanted to get up again.

But she had to eventually. A lazy sister was as good as no sister at all, so with a groan, she pushed herself off the ground. The boy stepped in to offer her a hand, and despite Chrom's glaring, she took it. The pie pan on her chest slid off and clattered to the floor.

As soon as she was on her feet, she dusted her dress, smearing her fingers with red. "Chrom, I thought Nan taught you better than this. You know fighting is bad, don't you? I don't care who started it," she said when Chrom opened his mouth, "I'm still disappointed in you."

"But I didn't–" Chrom pointed over the boy's head. "But he threw Lissa's doll up in that tree."

Emmeryn followed Chrom's finger, and sure enough, tangled in the branches of the tall tree growing in the courtyard was a small doll. She glanced back down at Lissa, who gazed up the doll sadly.

Beside her, the boy huffed. "But you broke my lance first."

"That's because you said Em was stupid!"

"That's because you said my mother was a dog!"

Emmeryn gasped. "Chrom! You didn't say that!"

"I didn't!"

"No, you called her a horse!"

"Chrom!" she said, whirling around to face him.

"No, I didn't!" Chrom stamped his foot, scowling. "He's lying!"

Emmeryn frowned, unsure. She wanted to believe Chrom, she really did. He looked so angry, but when her eyes flicked back at the other boy, glaring at Chrom, she couldn't decide.

Listen, Tomas's voice echoed in her head.

Listen to who? Chrom or the boy? She hadn't listened to Redwind, and she'd almost killed him when he hadn't done anything at all. She couldn't do it again, not here!

Emmeryn turned to the boy and smiled. "My brother, did he really say that?"

The boy scowled. "He did."

Then, she turned to Chrom. "He says that you did. Can't you apologize to him?"

"But I didn't!" Chrom said. "Why can't you believe me? Why can't anyone believe me?"

Emmeryn wanted to scream. Why did this have to be so hard?

Chrom or the boy? Who was lying? She couldn't do this alone! Where was everyone else? Why did she say she could take this stupid pie to them by herself?

Then, an idea. Emmeryn glanced over to the side, to where Lissa was still curled up in the corner. "Lissa!" she said, and she pointed at the boy. "Is he lying?"

Like Emmeryn had, her eyes flicked between Chrom and the boy. Emmeryn could see the conflict in her eyes, and for a moment, she thought maybe she hadn't seen anything. Maybe she was just as stumped as Emmeryn was, and Emmeryn was being unfair to her. Oh Gods, why did everything she say have to be so stupid?

Then Lissa looked at her. She shook her head.

Emmeryn let out a sigh of relief. She had seen it, then. That made everything easier.

Emmeryn put her hands on her hips. "Chrom, Lissa says he's not lying."

"But he is!"

"Lissa says he's not," she said, sterner this time. "Chrom, you need to say you're sorry."

"But I'm not!"

"Chrom." Emmeryn frowned. "Don't lie to me."

Chrom looked at the boy. He looked at Lissa. Then, he looked at her. Something flickered in his eyes, but before Emmeryn could see what it was, he stormed off.

Part of her wanted to run after him and ask what was wrong, ask what she had done wrong, but when she felt a tug on her skirt, she stopped to look down.

"I'm sorry," Lissa murmured, eyes glued to the floor.

Emmeryn's face softened, and she knelt down to her. "You don't need to say sorry. You didn't say anything."

"It's my fault."

"No, it's not your fault," Emmeryn said. It's Chrom's fault for lying, she almost said, but she didn't. She looked back, but Chrom had already disappeared, leaving her alone with Lissa and the boy.

Turning to the boy, Emmeryn gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for my brother's behavior. I don't know what's gotten into him."

Maybe he was a little frustrated that Emmeryn was so late. If she was Chrom, she would be too, but starting fights? She hadn't missed something, had she?

The boy shook his head. "It's nothing," he said, the frown never leaving his face. Emmeryn found that odd. Why did he always look like he was eating soggy bread?

"It's not nothing. My brother shouldn't be doing such things." Emmeryn shuffled her feet. "If there is anything I can do to make up for it, I will do my best to get it done."

The boy looked away, and his eyes became distant. That had Emmeryn worried, and for a moment, she thought he was going to ask for something ridiculous like a hundred gold worth of chocolate.

Finally, the boy turned his gaze back to her, and, staring her straight in the eye, he said, "Stop calling for my mother so much."

"Your... mother?" Emmeryn blinked. "Who is your mother?"

"She is my mother!"

Emmeryn peered closer at him, looking him up and down. She noticed the brown hair, the brown eyes, and the sharp face, and everything clicked into place. This was Captain Madeline's son. But she couldn't let Captain Madeline go. Could she?

"I–I'll try," she said, weakly.

The boy huffed again, but he didn't argue. He turned around and walked away, and the breeze blowing through the courtyard came to a gentle stop.

Emmeryn stared at the doorway he'd disappeared through for a few seconds more. Had she made the right choice? Why did she feel so bad, then?

"Where did you go?" Lissa's quiet voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Emmeryn gave Lissa a pat on the head.

"I told you. I was at the meeting," Emmeryn said with a long sigh. "The meeting was long and boring and stupid. But I brought you a pie–" She looked down at her hands, only to find them smeared with pie instead. Where had it gone?

On second thought, maybe asking where it hadn't gone was a better question. It was on her hands, on her dress, on the ground. The only place it wasn't was the pie pan, flipped over and laid by her feet, where she'd left it when she had gotten to her feet.

She turned back to Lissa, but Lissa looked away. Obviously, that wouldn't be enough. Emmeryn wouldn't have expected it to be enough. Emmeryn thought for a moment, before an idea came to her.

"Hey, why don't I get you your doll back?" she asked. "You want it back, right?"

"No," Lissa replied.

Emmeryn frowned. What a weird thing to say. "It's fine," Emmeryn said. "I don't care. My dress is already ruined. I can climb up there and–"

Then she looked up, and her eyes widened. Up in the tree branches, she could still see Lissa's doll dangling between the tree branches. Further back, however, she could also see Chrom climbing the branch, slowly inching toward the doll.

"Chrom! What are you doing?!" she shrieked. She ran over to the tree and grabbed a nearby branch, but when she tried to pull herself up, it snapped from her weight. It hadn't been that long since she'd climbed here, had it? She couldn't be too heavy now!

"Get down from there! You could get hurt!"

"Why do you care?" Chrom grumbled, his eyes still fixed on the ball. "You're not father!"

His words shot through Emmeryn's heart. She gripped the tree, and the bark dug into her hand as she clenched her teeth. "What–why would you say that? That's stupid! I'm not father!"

"Then why are you trying to pretend you are?"

"What? No I'm not!"

Chrom growled. "Yes, you are!"

"I'm not!"

"You are! Don't lie to me!"

Chrom inched forward. The branch trembled under his weight, and a few leaves shook loose and fluttered to the floor. To Emmeryn's horror, she heard the branch creak.

"Chrom! Please, come down!"

Chrom ignored her. "You can't tell me what to do. You're not father."

"You're right, I'm not father. Now, can you please–"

"If you're not, why can't you play with us?" This time, Chrom looked down and glared at her, and Emmeryn finally noticed that his eyes shone with tiny, frustrated tears. "Where were you? Why didn't you come? Why didn't you save us?"

"I was in a meeting! I couldn't come!"

Now, his tears were rolling off his face and falling to the ground. "Because you were in a stupid meeting? Father went to stupid meetings. Why do you have to? Why can't you go back to being you again?"

Emmeryn looked down. "Because father is gone. I want to be me again, but I can't. Someone has to pretend to be him."

"Why does it have to be you?"

"Do you want to be him?" she snapped.

Chrom's mouth clamped shut. He stared at her, eyes wide, and Emmeryn immediately regretted shouting at him. She was stupid. She was so stupid.

Slowly, she stepped forward, reaching out for him. "Chrom, I'm sorry–"

The branch snapped.

And Chrom was falling.

Time slowed down. Everything disappeared around her. The only thing she could see was Chrom, falling to the floor. He was going to get hurt. He was going to get hurt because she made the wrong choice.

She reached out for him. She had to catch him.

Then she tripped on the upside-down pie pan she had left on the floor, and she fell.

Chrom was going to hurt. He was going to break his bones, and it was all her fault because she was so stupid and she wasn't there to catch him. She needed to be there, she had to run, but she would never make it in time.

There was a flash of blue and silver across her vision. Weakly, Emmeryn lifted her gaze, and who else would happen to be there but Duke Verdigris, Chrom safely tucked in his arms.

The duke's brown eyes fell to her, and he smiled. "Your Grace, I do hope this wouldn't happen to be a bad time, would it?"

Chapter Text

Duke Verdigris. The stranger from Rosanne.

Emmeryn was still unsure about how she felt about him. She knew nothing about him, and she didn't know if she could trust him, even as he gently set Chrom back down onto the ground.

That, and he had seen them fighting. It was not good, especially if word got out that she was yelling at the prince, and if word got out, she would know that Duke Verdigris had tattled.

"No, not at all." Emmeryn put on her best smile as she pushed herself to her feet. She nodded for Chrom to come back to her, which he did all too eagerly. "Thank you, sir..."

"Verdigris. Duke Verdigris," he replied, taking a deep bow, and his silver ponytail draped over his shoulder.

"Yes, Duke Verdigris, thank you." Emmeryn returned his bow with a neat curtsy–or as neat as a curtsy could be with jelly smeared over her front–acting like she didn't already know who he was. "You couldn't have come at a better time."

The duke chuckled, pressing a hand to his mouth. "You flatter me, your Grace. I simply heard conflict, so I decided to investigate. Rather fortunate I did, wouldn't you say?"

"It is." Emmeryn's smile slipped for a moment into a frown. A second later, it hit her that maybe being so obviously suspicious was a bad thing. He was, after all, a guest from Rosanne. It would bode poorly for Ylisse if she was so unfriendly to a guest, so she hid the frown.

She had not been fast enough. Duke Verdigris frowned with her, even as her smile returned. Instead of getting angry, however, he asked, "Whatever seems to be troubling you, your Grace?"

"Nothing!" Emmeryn said. "It's nothing important."

"If it troubles such a youthful young lady as yourself, it is far from unimportant, your Grace."

"I beg to differ, Duke."

"I shan't press, then. But!" Duke Verdigris held up a finger. "I did have something else I needed to speak with you."

Emmeryn blinked. "But I thought you said you were passing by."

"That I most certainly was, but while we have the chance to converse, now may as well be an opportune time for a discussion." Duke Verdigris paused. "Unless... I really have happened upon you at a bad time?"

"No, no." Emmeryn waved her hand in a circular motion she had seen her father do many times before in what she hoped was a motion for him to speak. "You can tell me. But..." She glanced back at Chrom and Lissa, staring patiently at her, "don't take too long, please."

"I shall make this as brief as I can. Would you permit me to visit Lord Redwind in the dungeon?"

Emmeryn crossed her arms. That was something she wasn't pleased to hear about, if only because of the reminder of what an embarrassment she was. Maybe she was still wrong about him, but because of him, she had been humiliated in front of all the other nobles, and an unpleasant feeling pricked at her heart just thinking about it.

"Why?" she asked. "I don't trust him enough."

"And you have good reason for that, but he is my friend," Duke Verdigris said. "There are a few words I would like to exchange with him while anticipating the next trial."

"Is that why you helped me before?"

Duke Verdigris blinked. "Pardon?"

"Back in the trial. You only helped me so you could speak to Lord Redwind?"

"Partially." Emmeryn frowned, but he continued, "but I also did it because you remind me a little of myself."

"Yourself?" At that, Emmeryn's frown turned into a confused look. She looked him up and down, but she couldn't really see any similarities.

"Indeed." Duke Verdigris chuckled, having noticed. Emmeryn ducked her head and looked away, and thankfully, Duke Verdigris said nothing of her staring. "You see, back in Rosanne, I was under plenty of pressure myself. It's why I came here, after all."

"What... what happened?"

Duke Verdigris shrugged. "There was a conflict. The pressure became too much for me to bear, and I fled the country in shame. Your situation is not unlike mine."

Emmeryn wouldn't disagree, but after Tomas, she didn't really want to agree, either. "Why do you want to help me, then? Why not mind your business?"

"Because fleeing was a mistake that I've grown to deeply regret. I've suffered a lot for my actions, but I believe you've already suffered far worse, haven't you?"

The smile he gave her unsettled Emmeryn. It unsettled her because she wanted so badly to believe it. Maybe he really was as good as he said he was, but could she trust him?

"I'll think about it," she said after a moment of thinking. "Letting you go to the dungeon, I mean."

"I greatly appreciate it," Duke Verdigris said with a bow. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have arrangements I must make with Lord Arundel."

Emmeryn breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Duke Verdigris walk back out of the courtyard. Dealing with him was difficult. She knew who everyone else was, and how they acted, but him... he was a bit more confusing. That worried her.

She turned around to speak to her siblings, when she heard footsteps head back to the courtyard. To her surprise, it was Duke Verdigris who poked his head back outside.

"By the way, you do not have to worry about me speaking of your brother's altercation. I shall keep my lips sealed."

"I... Thank you," Emmeryn said, relief showing on her face. Duke Verdigris only nodded, and then he disappeared again.

As soon as he was gone, Chrom asked, "What was that about?"

Emmeryn blinked, and she glanced back at him as if just remembering he was there. What had that been about? She would have liked to know as well.

Lord Bartholomew, she knew, owed a debt to her father. Captain Madeline was loyal to her father as well, and had been close to the previous Pegasus Knight captain, a friend of her father. The two of them had their reasons to aid her, and they made them very obvious, but Duke Verdigris? Emmeryn didn't even know he existed before today.

He seemed willing to help, but so had Tomas. Could she truly trust him?

The words of the boy, of Captain Madeline's son, echoed in her head. Stop calling for my mother. She couldn't keep relying on Captain Madeline. Someone would have to take her place. Could it be Duke Verdigris? It wasn't as if he could return to Rosanne and betray her, assuming his story was true.

"What was that about?" Emmeryn repeated, her voice barely loud enough for anyone other than her to hear. "I don't know yet, but I think I would like to find out."

Lucina stared up at the wooden ceiling of the run-down inn with tired eyes. Having been awake for an hour now, she had been staring at it for quite a while, but she hadn't moved at all. That meant whoever was downstairs wouldn't know that quite yet.

And make no mistake, there was someone downstairs. As awful as she felt, her ears still worked, and she could just barely hear voices coming through the floor.

She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, not through the ringing in her aching head, but at least no one sounded angry. That was inconvenient. If there was someone arguing downstairs, Lucina would be able to use that as a distraction as she slipped past whoever was down there and sneak out the door.

Then again, if they had wanted to keep her here, wouldn't they have tied her up? Maybe whoever had brought her here, Anna or anyone else, had decided to let her go free.

Wasn't that quite the interesting thought? To not be imprisoned and under suspicion for the first time since she'd gotten here. Since she'd been at Robin's house, anyway.

Briefly, she wondered how Robin was doing. Hopefully, he'd found his rat after she'd been captured and brought to Ylisse. Out of everyone she cared about, his life was the only one she hadn't made a mess of.

Her stomach growled for what had to be the fifth time since she'd woken up. The first time, she had been able to ignore it. Now, though, it reminded her that it had been two days since she'd last eaten, and she was starting to feel the effects of hunger take its withering hold. Even at the end of the world, when food was scarce, she didn't run for more than three days on an empty stomach. Her body needed food to keep her going, and as soon as she escaped, she would find something to eat. It shouldn't be too hard, considering the town was surrounded by a forest.

The people had stopped talking downstairs for a while now, too. Hopefully, that meant they had left. Lucina liked to think herself a little more pragmatic for such wistful thinking, but for once since she'd gotten back to this damned past timeline, she hadn't woken up restrained in one way or another.

Lucina let the covers fall to the side as she pushed herself out of bed. She swung her legs over the side, and stood up. The ringing in her head only became louder.

I've got to stop finding new ways to knock myself out, Lucina thought bitterly as she stumbled to the door. If I don't, it might become a habit.

When she got to the door, it turned without any resistance. Unlocked. That was a good sign already.

Lucina liked to think she handled mornings a little better than this. It had been a requirement for surviving the end of the world, because you needed to be battle-ready at a moment's notice if you were ever ambushed by Risen in the middle of the night. That said, being half-starved and half asleep did little to help things, and as Lucina hobbled her way down the inn's stairs and into the lobby, she had a rather amusing thought that, were her friends here, they might have mistaken her for a Risen. Her hair was a mess, her face looked like half of it had been melted off by Risen bile, and as she staggered down the stairs, she had to clutch the side just so she wouldn't lose her balance and take a fall for the rest of the way down.

Then she stopped.

Sitting at a table in the middle of the room, she caught a familiar flash of bright red hair. Anna's hair.

That might not have been so bad if the inn were crowded. She would be able to melt into the crowd and make her escape.

But Anna was the only one there, and she had most certainly noticed that Lucina was here too, from the way she was staring her dead in the eye.

"Hey! Innkeeper!" Anna said, raising her hand as she raised the corners of her lips. "Get us another bowl of soup."

To Lucina's confusion, she beckoned her over. Lucina wasn't quite sure she quite trusted the gesture. Yes, she had rescued her daughter from bandits. Anyone else might have been grateful.

Anna didn't quite do "grateful".

Still, as Lucina watched her with suspicious eyes, she supposed there could be no other reason to invite her over, so, cautiously, she made her way over to the table.

Lucina pulled out the chair across from Anna. As she set herself down, the innkeeper set down a bowl of soup in front of Anna. Anna thanked the man, then pushed the bowl across to Lucina.

Lucina took the spoon out of the bowl, then stared down at it with narrowed eyes. When she didn't move to spoon herself any, Anna nodded to it and said, "Come on, it doesn't smell that bad, does it? If you don't like beef, I'm not going to get another bowl for you. My money's tight as it is."

"No, it's not that–"

"Do you want me to pick out the meat? I can do that for you if you want."

"I think I can pick it out myself if I wanted to."

Anna frowned. "Is it too hot, then?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Is there something wrong with it, then? I'm not your mom. I don't need to feed you if you don't want it."

Sighing, Lucina let her spoon fall back into the bowl, and looked Anna straight in the eye. "I'm not one for dancing around. If you must say something, say it outright," she said. Perhaps it was a bit rude. Even Lucina could tell that, but any second she spent in the woman's company was a second she'd rather spend doing something else.

Some of her hostility must have shown through, as Anna's winning smile faltered for a moment. "Ah, yes. I guess you must be." She fiddled with the bag of gold she had on the table–a nervous tick common to all members of the family, Lucina noted–and with a sigh, the woman pushed back her ponytail and said, "I'm sure you've got a mother waiting for you at home, don't you?"

"She's dead," Lucina said in the flattest tone she could muster.

Anna shrugged. "Okay then, but she loved you right? I'm sure she did. Exiled noblewoman or not, I'm sure you wouldn't have turned out the well-mannered lovely woman you are today without a little love from your mother, wouldn't you?"

"And what if I told you my father was widowed?"

Anna inclined her head toward her. "You're not telling me that though."

Lucina scowled. She had her there. "Can you get to the point already?"

"Shush!" Anna raised a finger at her and frowned. "Look, it's already hard enough for me to think of how I want to say this. I'm going to need a moment to think my words through."

Part of Lucina wanted to argue. The more rational part reminded her that, whenever Anna wanted something, she always found a way to get it. Trying to fight it would be pointless in the end, so Lucina slumped back in her chair and motioned for her to continue.

Anna hummed and fiddled with the bag again. "You know what this reminds me of? Back when I was a kid, I accidentally dropped my mother's purse into a stream. I figured I'd done something wrong, because when she couldn't find it, she was real mad. I couldn't find the guts to step up and tell her I'd done it because you'd better believe I was scared."

"So you know what I did to help me gain confidence, look her in the eye, and admit what I'd done? I bought her a new purse. She loved it so much, she forgave me right away. And that's what I'm doing now."

"You're buying me a purse?"

"No, no! I'm setting you free."

Lucina blinked. "Why?"

At that, Anna made a face. "As it turns out, that little stunt you pulled made you quite the hero in this town. I don't think they'd be too happy if I tried to turn you over to the dear old Exalt. Not much point in keeping you around either, especially since you'd probably escape if I tried to take you to the next town over. That," she said, looking to the side, "and you saved my daughter. I'd have to be stupid not to be thankful for that."

"Huh."

"So. The door's wide open." Anna motioned toward the door with a grin. "You can go out whenever you want."

Lucina tapped the side of the bowl. "I don't think the innkeeper would be very happy if I tried to take this bowl with me."

Her mother would lose her mind if she tried to leave the dining room with porcelain plates because she might break them. She imagined the innkeeper would have much of the same reaction, especially since the bowl was his, not hers.

Anna shrugged. "After you finish the soup, then. You're free to go do... whatever it is you were going to do before we ran into each other. Take control of your future, yada yada yada. I know how much you hate me. I don't know why, but hey, once you go, you never have to see me again."

"I see."

Slowly, Lucina picked up the spoon again. She glanced over at Anna, and when Anna raised an eyebrow, she lifted the spoon to her lips.

The first food she'd had in days. It tasted good. Much better than it probably was, but her body was probably just happy to have something at all.

Lucina set down the spoon, grabbed the bowl with one hand, and took it all down in one big gulp. The thick, meaty taste slammed into her head and cleared away the rest of the weariness from her mind, like peeling back a cobweb from the back of her eyes. It warmed her throat, her stomach, and Lucina felt much better for it.

Then, when she set the bowl back down and wiped what was left of the soup from her lips with her sleeve, she started to think.

I suppose now, I can return to carrying out my future plans? Except... what plans do I have?

Morgan had always been the one with the complicated plans. Lucina had just assumed she would come back in time and figure out the smaller details when she'd got there. Now, she was there, and she was really regretting not asking Morgan for a better long-term plan.

When she went back in time, her plan had only been to prevent Emmeryn's death, and make sure that Ylisse was well-equipped to survive the war against Plegia. The former had to wait for fourteen years to pass, but the latter, she could get a head start by heading to Ferox and making sure she could become Khan Basilio's champion.

Though it might be a little hard to get there, considering how I'm a wanted fugitive right now, Lucina thought. Unless...

She glanced over at Anna, who was now speaking to the innkeeper. Something about negotiating the price of their room at the inn.

"Hey," Lucina said, raising her hand to cut in. "I don't mean to be rude, but... where are you going?"

She'd already had an idea. In the future, she'd visited this town before. It had been just a tad more in ruins by then, but she still remembered that this town lay on the west side of Ylisse. Going from Ylisstol to here, there was really only one place where Anna could be headed.

"Where are we headed?" Anna asked. "Why, Ferox, of course! Where else?"

Lucina nodded and closed her eyes.

She did not like Anna. She was not usually someone to say she hated someone, but Anna was an exception. Of all the people she had met in the future, Anna had been one of the most selfish and single-minded people that she'd ever met. Perhaps it hadn't even been this Anna, and it had been one of her relatives instead, but they were all the same. Lucina had many reasons to hate her, and yet...

As much as she didn't want to admit it, this might have been her only chance to get to Ferox safely.

"You..." she gritted out, "you wouldn't mind taking me with you, would you?"

Chapter Text

Anna was confused when she saw Marth walk out of the inn and throw a sword onto their wagon. She was not dumb, at least, that's what her momma told her, but even for her, this seemed so confusing. Before, Marth had been a prisoner, but after she had saved her sister, Anna was sure her momma would let her go.

Maybe she hadn't let her go? Maybe her momma decided to take her to the next town to try to pawn her off? But that couldn't be right, because why wasn't she tied up?

Or maybe Marth was stealing her momma's wagon? Anna knew that her momma kept a lot of valuable things on the wagon. That was why Gregor was here to protect them. But that wasn't right either, because Gregor was standing next to them, and he would never let anyone steal their wagon.

Maybe I should just ask, Anna thought, and she hopped off the bench she had been sitting on next to the inn.

Several feet thudded against the ground next to her. Anna looked over her shoulder, and found her three siblings standing with her. They had all thought of the same thing.

Anna looked at her sisters. They looked back at her. They all nodded at each other, understanding each other without a word. Her sisters looked at each other. Then they looked at her.

While everyone else got to sit back down, Anna walked over to the wagon. Marth had already pulled herself up onto it, so Anna had to look up to talk to her.

"Miss Marth?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

Marth glanced down, and when she saw her, her eyebrow raised, like she had just seen her. "I'm coming with you," she replied, her voice flat.

Anna frowned. "Why?"

"I work for your mother."

"Oi." Now Gregor was pushing off the wall that he had been standing next to, frowning with Anna. "Gregor is already working for Ms. Anna. You cannot be working for her too."

Lucina winced, and she glanced back at the inn. "I may have changed her mind."

"Change her mind? What you mean by that?"

"I need to get to Ferox, and working with someone else is the safest way to get there." Lucina shrugged, though even then, Anna could still hear that she sounded a bit sorry for it. "I told her I would work for free if she took me there in your place. I'm sorry."

"Oh, you cannot be serious." Gregor threw up his hands with a scowl. An actual scowl. Anna didn't think she had ever seen Gregor scowl, but there he was, scowling as he stomped back inside. "I must convince Ms. Anna of her mistake. Marth must wait here."

He slammed the door behind him, and then he was gone, leaving Anna alone with Marth.

Sighing, Marth shook her head. "The things I do for him... I hope you can forgive me someday," she muttered in a voice so low she must have thought no one could hear.

Anna huffed and put her hands on her hips. Again, Marth threw a surprised glance her way.

"Did you need anything?"

"Why do you want to go to Ferox?"

Marth frowned. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It's a secret."

Anna looked over her shoulder at her siblings. They all looked between themselves, then nodded back to her.

Looking back up at the blue-haired lady, Anna put her hands behind her back and leaned back on her heels. "If you tell me why, I'll give you a coin."

Marth gave her a funny look. "That's not a lot of money."

"Then I'll give you two coins."

"That's not much better."

Anna shot a glance at her sisters. They whispered to each other, digging around in their purses, before they looked back at her and held up two fingers each.

"Six coins?" Anna asked the woman.

Marth sighed, and she turned away. "It's not for sale."

"Everything is for sale, you just need the right price," Anna said, recounting what her momma had told her before.

"Of course you would say that," Marth muttered under her breath.

Anna had the impression that Marth didn't like her for some strange reason. "Why?"

"Like I said before. It's a secret."

Suddenly, the doors to the inn burst open, and out walked Gregor.

"Marth cannot go to Ferox with you!" he announced, stomping over to the wagon. Her mother followed him, not too far behind.

"Why not? Everything checks out?" her mother drawled.

"She cannot because Gregor works for Miss Anna already. There is little room on the wagon for more."

"That can be solved." Anna pointed at Gregor. "You're fired."

Gregor's jaw dropped. "What? Anna cannot do this!"

"Who's saying? There's no contract that's stopping me. You knew that when you asked to work for me, right?"

Gregor seemed to have no reply. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Off to the side, Anna saw Marth's eyes widen as well. Anna guessed she hadn't had a contract written either.

"Gregor needs job! He cannot continue his search without job."

"Not my problem."

Marth jumped off the wagon and stepped between them, putting her hand on Gregor's chest when he tried to step toward Anna. "Gregor, please," she said, her voice stern. "You can always find another job."

"Marth should be silent!" Gregor snapped.

Marth stepped back, an offended hand pressed to her chest. Before she could utter another word, Gregor rounded on Anna's mother again.

"What she wants Anna to pay her," he said, pointing at Marth, "Gregor will work for half."

Anna nodded to the side with a lopsided grin. "Going to be a little hard to do that. She's working for free. Meals included, of course."

"Free?!" Gregor shot Marth a look. Marth folded her arms and fixed her eyes to the ground.

"Then Gregor work for half his price."

"That's not much better."

"But Gregor is much better. He is strong and skilled. Anna cannot say same for Marth!"

Anna hummed. "I don't know. Miss Marth fought three bandits to save my daughter. You didn't. Seems to me like you're the one who's lacking when it comes to skills."

"Then Gregor show Anna he is better!" Gregor jabbed a finger at Marth. "Marth! You fight Gregor."

Marth raised her hands. "Why would you want to fight me? You've been a sellsword for longer than I have. What's stopping you from finding another job?"

"Of course Marth cannot understand. Marth cannot understand, because she is spoilsword, raised in noble home. She knows nothing about being sellsword."

"Okay? I don't understand how that has much to do with anything."

"Does Marth not want to fight Gregor because she knows she will lose? Perhaps Marth is baby, afraid of poor Gregor because he will defeat her."

"I–" Marth paused, and she narrowed her eyes. "Oh. You're goading me."

"Gregor is not goading Marth. He wants fight is all!"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Marth turned and walked away. "I'm not going to fight you, Gregor. You'd be much better off finding work elsewhere. I'm sorry, but I need this more than you do."

"Well, I think it's a swell idea," Anna's mother said.

Marth stopped in her tracks. She spun to face Anna's mom with a stunned look that Anna would have found funny if she wasn't just as confused. "What? You can't be serious!"

"Me? Oh, no, of course I'm not. I'm never serious, hon." Marth relaxed at Anna's casual laugh, only to tense at her next words. "Although he does bring up a pretty good point about you two fighting for me. It'll be a good way of making sure I'm getting my money's worth, that's for sure."

Marth threw up her hands with an annoyed groan. "You're not paying me anything. I don't understand how you can get a deal better than that."

"Oh, that's cute. See, if you're in the business of making money–like I am–price isn't the only thing you need to keep in mind when buying." Anna's mother pulled Marth's sword off the wagon and swung it around. "If you get a sword for cheap, and it breaks when you try to cut apples, then you might as well have thrown your gold down a well, right?"

Anna nodded as she listened to her mother. She'd heard this before, and she thought it was common sense, but when she saw Marth scowling, she guessed Marth hadn't ever heard of it before.

"Fine. I'll fight. Give me my sword," Marth said.

"Don't be like that. If you want this job, you have to win, and if you want to win, you have to act like you're going to win. You want to win? Convince me that you're going to win! Come on, show me that you want to fight."

"I don't want to fight, not because I fear losing, but because this is a waste of my time. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can be on our way." Marth held out a hand. "Give me my sword."

Anna's mother's lips turned down, but in the end, she shrugged and mother tossed it to Marth.

Anna watched as the sword flung through the air. To Anna's surprise, however, Marth seemed to recoil from her weapon, letting her sword fall past her hands instead of catching it. She waited until the sword clattered to the ground, getting dirt all over it, before she knelt down to pick it up.

When Marth turned to face Gregor, her furrowed brow made it clear that she hated this. What it was that she was so angry about, Anna wasn't quite sure. Was she mad at her mom for lecturing her? Anna got lectured all the time. Was she mad about having to fight? She was pretty strong though. What was there to be mad about fighting? It wasn't like she was worried or anything.

"You wanted a fight," Marth said, holding out her sword in front of her. "I'm give you a fight."

Gregor, like Marth, took out his own sword. "Gregor does not want fight. He want job, and for that, Gregor must fight. Don't keep Gregor–"

Marth's sword rushed down toward Gregor's head. His sword raised to meet it with a clash of steel.

"Oi! Gregor was not finished talking!" Gregor said.

Marth didn't reply, busy gritting her teeth as she jumped away and lunged. Gregor batted her sword away. Marth followed the swing, spun around, and attacked again. Gregor kept his sword up, deflecting her strikes every time, but Marth just kept swinging and swinging.

Slowly, Gregor was forced back, one strike at a time. He didn't seem to have a problem blocking them, even with how strong they were. Sparks fluttered to the ground with every strike, and not a single one of them reached Gregor, but even Anna, with what little she knew of sword fighting, could see that he was struggling to hold his ground.

He took one step back. Then another. Every swing of her sword, every ear-splitting crash of steel on steel, Marth hacked away at Gregor's defense, slowly pushing him closer toward a nearby house on the other side of the street. Anna thought she would win for sure.

Then Gregor blocked her next swing. He twisted his wrist, and her sword drove into the ground. Before Marth could jump away, Gregor stepped on her sword and kicked her in the chest.

Marth stumbled back. Her sword clattered to the ground, wretched out of her hands. Marth snarled, and she stepped forward, only to be met with the tip of Gregor's sword.

"See? Gregor has defeated Marth," Gregor said, and he turned to Anna. "Gregor is more skilled."

Anna glanced between Marth and Gregor, and now that they were no longer moving, she could see that Marth was a lot more tired than Gregor. She was also a lot more mad. Really mad, actually.

"The results speak for themselves, I guess." Anna's mother shrugged. "Sorry, Marth. Better luck next time–"

"Ragh!" Suddenly, Marth threw herself at Gregor. Gregor barely had time to step back before Marth's fist sailed past his face. His eyes widened, panicked at the sudden attack.

Gregor swung his sword around to defend himself. Anna thought that made sense. When her momma was cooking, she always said to be careful around knives, and Marth had to avoid it if she didn't want to get cut.

That was why it was such a surprise when instead, Marth reached out and caught it in her hand. Anna heard the blade sink into her skin and winced. Blood dribbled down the side of the blade. Marth didn't even flinch.

Shoving it into the ground, Marth reached out with her other hand, grabbed Gregor by the neck, and drove him back the final few feet into the house.

"Wait!" Gregor cried.

Marth ignored him. She snarled, reached back, and smashed his head through the window.

Someone screamed inside.

Anna didn't see who, but Gregor and Marth did, both briefly stunned by it. Anna's mother jumped in front of them before they could move, grabbing both of them by the sleeves and dragging them away.

"And that's our cue to leave," she said in a sing-song voice. She shoved them both toward the wagon, then turned to Anna and her sisters.

"Let's go, girls, before the guards get here and make us pay for the property damage." Then she paused, reached into the wagon, and pulled out a heal staff. "Also, while you're at it, make sure to heal those two. Those cuts on Mister Gregor's face make it a bit obvious whose head was shoved through a window, yeah?"

Her mother had probably meant to toss it to her older sister. She knew how to heal, after all. Anna didn't. So when the staff landed at Anna's feet, she shot her mother a confused look.

"Momma! I don't know how to use this thing!"

"Well, one of you does. Come now, we don't have any time to waste. Come on, girls, on the wagon, up up!"

Anna made to complain, realized now was probably not the time, and she pulled herself up on the wagon. Just in time, too, as the moment her feet left the ground, her mother snapped the reins, and the horse started moving forward.

Anna's hand slipped. She yelped. The ground behind her rushed up to meet her, and she would have hit her head if Marth's hand hadn't snapped out to grab her. Wordlessly, Marth dragged her back on.

As Anna looked over her shoulder, she saw the inn they had been in quickly grow smaller in the distance. She'd have thought someone else would have noticed them leave, but no one did.

They slipped through the gates undetected in the middle of the day, and just like that, they were off to the next town, just like they always were.

"Alright, everyone," Anna's mother said as soon as the last town was far behind them. "Regna Ferox, here we come!"

Chapter Text

Smooth was the last thing Lucina would call their exit from the town of Rottenburg. Every rock the wheels rolled over threw everything in the air, her included. That made sitting a painful experience, though Lucina was very glad that there was enough room to sit at all. Better sitting on a bumpy ride than standing.

As the wagon rolled over yet another large stone in the road, setting off another clatter of silverware somewhere in the cart, Lucina took the chance to look around. There was Anna, of course, sitting at the front, with one of her daughters riding next to her. The other three sat in a circle in a small space they had cleared out for themselves by pushing out a few of the bags, eating candy together that Lucina presumed they had bought from the town just before they left, and of course, just on the other side of the stack of books to her left, she could barely make out Gregor's shoes poking out.

None of them were looking at her, too entrapped in whatever they were doing. She could leave if she wanted too. No one would stop her, but it wasn't as if she would get far with the gash in her hand, dribbling blood from her palm and through the planks in the wagon. It wasn't fatal by any means, but it still hurt a lot. What she wouldn't do for the sweet relief of a vulnerary.

Just thinking about her cut, her eyes slowly drifted over to the one responsible for giving her the cut: her own Uncle Gregor.

Well, I suppose he's not Uncle Gregor quite yet, she thought, her face twisted in a grimace as she glanced down at her hand, hastily wrapped in a strip she'd torn off her ratty cloak.

Uncle Gregor, the Gregor from my time, he was quite strong. Maybe it was just because I was a child then, but he feels a lot weaker than he did then. He hasn't been a mercenary for long, has he?

Lucina frowned. She flexed her wounded hand again, and hid her wince when pain shot through her arm.

She'd suffered from worse cuts. She'd survived much, much worse back in the future, but back in the future, there was always someone to heal her immediately after a battle. Here, she was left with this reminder. And what a painful reminder it was; every time she twitched her fingers, she was reminded of the fight that she had lost just an hour ago.

Lucina did not consider herself a sore sport. She could take a loss in a fair game, pat her opponent on the back, and let it go. Maybe she was just tired, maybe she was just hungry, or maybe it was the stupid scar that kept flaring up, rubbing her lost battle with a cup of salt, that irritated her every time her mind brought her back to it.

He couldn't have been much more experienced than her. The way he moved about, clumsy and giving ground to her with every strike, and considering when she was right now, he couldn't have been a mercenary for more than... a year? Two years, at most.

She had been fighting for much, much longer, so maybe it was her physical ailments, but maybe it was the fact that she had lost to a much less experienced opponent that irked her the most.

Losing never felt good. But... at least she'd had the chance to lose at all. Here, she could lose and live to lick her wounds. Back in the future, there would be no wounds to lick if you lost.

Before she could dwell on it for any longer, Anna's voice interrupted her thoughts. "So, now that we've put some distance between us and the tow, why don't we get you two fixed up?" She reached into a bag beside her, pulled out a heal staff, and tossed it at the three children sitting in the back.

It clattered right in the middle of their circle. The three girls exchanged glances, but as Lucina waited, none of them made to pick it up.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Anna called back. "One of you pick that up and start using that thing, chop chop!"

At last, one of the girls reached down and picked up the staff. It looked big in her hands, almost stretching from her head to her feet, and she held it above her head as she awkwardly waded through the bags and wares. Eventually, she stopped in front of Lucina and held it over her expectantly. Lucina sighed, but she still held up her wounded hand for the girl to heal.

Lucina waited. And waited.

After a minute of waiting, the girl lowered the staff, to Lucina's confusion.

"Momma," the girl asked. "How am I supposed to use this?"

"Didn't I already teach you?" Anna replied without looking over her shoulder.

The girl frowned. "No! You taught her." She pointed to the girl sitting at the front.

Anna glanced down at her, then turned back to the road. "She's sleeping, dear. You'll have to figure it out on your own, you think you could do that for me, hon? Momma has to focus on driving."

The girl paused. Her eyes lingered on the staff. "Okay, fine."

"Thanks, dear."

Lucina didn't think the girl wanted to figure it out for herself. She looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn't really have a choice. Helplessly, the girl turned to her sisters, asking with her gaze if any of them knew how to use it.

One of the girls clutched a teddy bear to her face as she looked up in thought. "It's magic," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "Try using magic on it."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to do that!" the first girl huffed.

The other girl, who was currently chewing on a bright red scarf, spat it out and said, "It can't be that hard. Momma does it all the time."

"But how am I supposed to do it? Momma never taught me. I can't even cast a Fire spell."

The third girl, scarf girl, Lucina dubbed, hummed. "I don't know. Maybe try imagining it? Maybe try..." Scarf girl waved her hand in a circle. "Maybe try pretending that it's being healed!"

"Okay..." The first girl, who Lucina noted was wearing a boot with a rather big tear in it, gazed back at Lucina, her gaze with a renewed focus. She held her staff up to Lucina's hand. Lucina kept it still, waiting with a straight face.

The girl's face tightened. Her brow furrowed, and her lips curled down. She stared at Lucina's wounded hand with such a strained expression, Lucina was tempted to interrupt her and tell her that she was doing it wrong, but with everyone else's eyes on her, she decided to keep her mouth shut, if only to keep what few cards she had left close to her chest.

Besides, surely there was someone who knew better here, right? Surely someone else would step in to correct her?

For a minute that felt much too long, nothing happened. Then, the girl's eyes went wide, and she exclaimed, "Oh, wow! It's all better now!"

It wasn't. Lucina could very much still feel the pulsating pain of her open wound.

"What are you, stupid?" scarf girl said. "That's not what you're supposed to do!"

The first girl–boot Anna, Lucina decided– turned back to scarf Anna. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

Scarf Anna shrugged. "I don't know. I guess heal staves do that blue glowy thing when they start doing magic. Maybe pretend you see the blue glowy part start glowing, and it'll happen."

"Fine."

Boot Anna turned back to Lucina's hand. Her eyes narrowed. Her teeth grit. She stared so long and so hard at it, that her face began to turn a slight red, and Lucina thought it would explode.

Then, boot Anna slumped back and sighed. "This is stupid. It's not working!"

"Maybe try touching it," the girl with the teddy bear–bear Anna–said, quietly. "Maybe the blue glowy part is magical, and you need to touch it to get it to work."

Boot Anna groaned, but what other options did she have. Lucina spread her fingers open, giving the girl a clear path to her palm. Bear Anna's idea was wrong too, but Lucina supposed that trial and error was as good a way to figure out how to heal someone as any. Better her than Gregor, anyway, seeing as his cuts littered his face–a result of her shoving his head into a glass window.

Slowly, boot Anna pulled the staff away. Lucina raised an eyebrow, confused. Just what was she doing?

Then Anna swung the staff right into Lucina's hand.

"Ow!" Lucina hissed, and she batted the heal staff away.

Anna yelped. In her surprise, she let go of the staff, and it clattered against the side of the wagon. She pouted at Lucina, like she had messed that up somehow. Lucina shot a glare back at her.

"What in Naga's name was that for?" she said as she shook out the pain from her hand.

"I'm healing you! It wouldn't kill you to hold still, would it?" boot Anna snapped back.

"Yes, it will. You could have broken my arm. That is not how you heal someone!"

"And you think you know any better, Miss Marth?"

Boot Anna crossed her arms and scowled, but Lucina could see the frustration written on her face. And, as much as Lucina didn't want to admit it, she could understand why. Nothing she had done had worked.

Lucina glanced over to where Anna was sitting. She seemed entirely focused on the road ahead. The Anna sitting next to her was still asleep, too. She wasn't going to be getting any help from them any time soon, and Gregor... well, he was a mercenary. Learning how to use a heal staff had never been one of his top priorities.

With a sigh, Lucina turned back to Boot Anna. "As a matter of a fact, I do."

"Okay, fine!" Boot Anna stomped over to pick up the heal staff, and she shoved it into Lucina's hands. "If you're so smart, why don't you do it yourself?"

"Because I can't!" Lucina said, stopping Boot Anna before she could storm away. "You can't use a heal staff yourself." Briefly, she mulled over in her head if she was really going to do this, before deciding that it was better than bleeding out on the road, or catching an infection with this ratty cloak wrapped around her wound.

"Come over here. I shall teach you how to use it properly."

Boot Anna looked none too happy about it. She looked like she really wanted to go back to her sisters. Lucina wouldn't blame her if she did, but then she would just call for Anna, and chances were, Anna would just force her to try again. In the end, Boot Anna seemed to figure that out too, as she returned to stand in front of Lucina.

Lucina held the staff out in front of her. "Take it with both hands. Make sure you have a firm grip on it."

Boot Anna snatched the staff with one hand and held it out. Lucina frowned.

"I said both hands," she said. Anna adjusted her grip accordingly.

"Now, hold it over the wounded area. Do not touch it–" she pulled her hand away when Boot Anna moved too close, "–but keep it close. The end of the staff should be just above the wound. That's good. Keep it there."

"What now?" Boot Anna half asked, half grumbled.

"Are you holding on tight?" In response, the staff creaked. Maybe she was holding onto it a little too tight, but for this, it didn't matter, so Lucina didn't comment.

"That is good. Now, close your eyes, and imagine you are a river."

"A river?" Boot Anna's face twisted into a frown. "Why?"

"This is important. Have faith in me."

Anna grumbled again, but she did as she was told. Lucina smiled. "That is very good. Now, take a deep breath in. Then out. In. And out. In–"

"This is stupid!" Boot Anna's eyes snapped open, and she stomped her boot against the wagon. "This ain't magic. I'll tell you what this is, this is dumb and boring. You tell me to pretend I'm a river, but how am I supposed to do that? Rivers are dumb."

"You'd be surprised how important rivers can be. Their gentle currents, after all, ensure that life can flourish all over the country."

"But how am I supposed to pretend I'm like that? I'm not a river!"

Lucina hummed. How indeed?

It had been a long time since she had used a heal staff herself. In practice, she was a little rusty, but in knowledge... well, Brady was always quite eager to get on anyone's case if they implied that they didn't understand how it worked, so she liked to believe she had a solid grasp on the theory.

Of course, just because she knew, she was bound to take a few things for granted. Someone who had never done it before, they might have a hard time picturing what exactly she wanted her to feel. To her, she knew exactly what it was she was describing, but to Anna, it would sound like nonsense. She needed a way to visualize it, that was all.

An idea struck Lucina's head. "Would you happen to know where you keep the water canteens?" she asked Boot Anna.

"Yeah." Boot Anna narrowed her eyes at her. "Why? Are you thirsty?"

"No, I'm–" Lucina paused. "Well, maybe a little, but that's not important. I have an idea."

Boot Anna looked at her strangely. To anyone else, it might sound insane, but if this worked... and Lucina had absolute faith that it would, because what other options did she have.

After a moment of hesitation, Boot Anna reached into a nearby sack of personal belongings, and she pulled out a canteen and handed it to Lucina's waiting hand. Lucina made to open it, then remembered her wounded hand.

"Hey!" she said, calling to the other two Annas. "Could one of you help open this?"

Scarf Anna jumped to her feet. "Don't worry, I've got you covered!"

She twisted the cap, and it came off with a pop. Lucina thanked her, and she nodded for Scarf Anna to sit back down. Turning back to Boot Anna, Lucina nodded toward the staff. "Show me your other hand."

Boot Anna frowned. "You're not going to pour water on it, are you? That's wasting money."

"Well, you can save money on water now, or you can save money on bandages and vulneraries later. What do you think is cheaper?"

That gave Boot Anna a pause. She looked off in thought, before she said, "Water."

"Then hold out your hand, and close your eyes. And don't move the heal staff away, this is important!" Lucina said, reaching out to gently nudge the heal staff before Boot Anna could let it stray too far.

"Now, remember what I said. Imagine that you are a river. Imagine that you are a flowing stream of water, trickling down the riverbed."

"Where am I supposed to go?" Boot Anna asked, her eyes closed.

"You aren't supposed to go anywhere. You're just supposed to keep moving. You're always moving, always flowing."

"That's dumb. That's not how real water works!"

Lucina huffed. "Do not talk. It makes it harder to imagine."

To Lucina's satisfaction, the girl clamped her mouth shut. With half of a smile, Lucina reached out, and she upturned the canteen over Boot Anna's outstretched hand. A stream of water trickled out, flowed through the girl's fingers, and disappeared between the wooden planks below.

"You are a river," Lucina said slowly. "Feel the water flow gently through your hands."

The girl frowned. Then, her face gradually relaxed. "I'm a river."

"Yes, that is right. You are a river, bending, moving, and flowing. Take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. Yes, you're doing very well."

Lucinda watched as the girl's chest rose and fell, rose and then fell again. Lucina tilted the water canteen forward, and the flow of the water increased until it was gushing out, the water a shimmering, mirror like pillar from the open end of the canteen to the girl's outstretched fingers.

"As you breathe in, picture the river going up. As you breathe out, picture the river going back down." Lucina tilted the canteen back, and the trickle slowed to a steady drip.

Anna's brows drew back down. Her breathing slowed even further, slow and gradual like the waves lapping against the shore.

"That's good. That river, that is the energy inside you. As you breathe in, you take in the energy in the air around you. As you breathe out, you–"

"Let it back into the air?" Anna said.

"Yes, you do. Very good. Breathe in, and out. In. And out. Now, as you breathe, redirect the flow of that river. Let the river flow in, and when it comes up, let it overflow. Pour it from your body into your shoulder, then from your shoulder into your arm. From your arm, the energy pools into your hand, and from your hand, the energy goes into the staff."

"And then?"

Lucina smiled. "Open your eyes."

Slowly, Anna opened her eyes. She gasped. "It's all better now!"

Sure enough, the cut in Lucina's hand had completely vanished. The only trace left was a faint blue glow, pulsing beneath the skin of her palm.

"It is?" Scarf Anna scrambled up to see, and when she saw, she gasped too. "Oh, wow, it is!"

"Did I do that?" Boot Anna said. She looked up at Lucina pleadingly, and Lucina just couldn't find it in her to take her down.

"Yes, you did," Lucina said. "You have learned how to use basic white magic, so... congratulations."

Boot Anna cheered. Her glee was infectious, and Lucina found herself smiling with her. After all, she had been in the girl's very same shoes, when Aunt Lissa had taught her how to use white magic herself.

"Don't start celebrating just yet," she said, before Boot Anna could run off to tell her mother. She nodded toward Gregor on her left. "You have one more person to heal. Remember the river."

"Oh, I will!" Anna said, and before Lucina could blink, she was already off.

Lucina followed her with her gaze, over to where she knew Gregor was. As she did, her smile slowly fell, reminded of their previous confrontation.

Pushing aside her frustration at her loss, she was able to notice something else too. Gregor had been oddly defensive, especially about losing his job. And the way he had acted toward her, challenging her for a fight... what had that been about? His pride? Her Uncle Gregor would never do such a thing. Was there something she had missed? Or maybe this was someone else named Gregor, who just happened to look like him? Surely, there must have been a logical explanation for this.

"That sure was a strange way of teaching her," Anna said from up front, her voice snapping Lucina out of her thoughts.

Lucina blinked, then frowned, shooting Anna a slightly annoyed glare. "There's nothing strange about it. It's how my aunt taught me white magic, only she used a bowl instead of a canteen."

"That would explain it, then. My momma taught me with a cigar. Speaking of which, you're gonna have to pay for all that water you just wasted."

"Take it out of my pay, then."

"I'm not paying you."

"Ah." Lucina stopped to think for a better excuse. "You realize I taught your child for you? White magic is no simple task to teach. If you didn't want me rummaging through your things, why didn't you help her yourself?"

Anna shrugged. "Hey, I was busy keeping my eyes on the road, making sure we didn't hit any big rocks and tip over. You're welcome, by the way."

Rolling her eyes, Lucina said, "You have my thanks."

"My pleasure."

Still, as her conversation died down, Lucina found her eyes drifting back to Gregor. If he was the Uncle Gregor she knew, she needed to find out why he was acting so strange to make sure that his story played out in the same way as it did before. If she didn't...

Lucina shook her head. No, it wouldn't come down to that. No matter what, she would get to the bottom of this.

Lucina drove a tent pole into the ground with a loud thud. She had done this many times before, back in the future. Setting up a tent was a practiced motion to her, and when she turned to the tent supplies still laid out on the ground around her, she set to work putting them together as she had done a thousand times before.

Anna had picked out a spot just off the road to set up camp, set right next to a jagged boulder sticking out of the ground. It was obvious that the woman was well versed in camping as well, picking such a defensive spot. With the boulder at their side, the wind would have difficulty blowing their supplies away, and any bandits seeking to rob them of their possessions had one less angle to attack them from.

Behind her, Lucina heard Anna clear her throat. "Alright, listen up you two!" She pointed between Lucina and Gregor. "Since I'm stuck with you two, and since your little spat ended inconclusively–"

"Is not inconclusive! Gregor won!" Gregor said.

"–since your little spat ended inconclusively, how about we try a different method to see which one of you is better, hm?" Anna said, clasping her hands together with a grin.

Lucina could only eye her with suspicion. She knew that grin. It was a grin Anna wore whenever she had a scheme, something that would ultimately fall into place in a way that benefitted her.

She had a plan. The trouble was, those plans were never straightforward. Lucina hated plans like that.

Still, once Anna put on that grin, there was little anyone could do to stop it.

"How about we decide things with a contest? The winner gets to keep their job, and the loser..." Anna twirled her finger in the air. "Well, we're a little strapped on gold, so I'm afraid I can't offer any unemployment benefits, but I can offer you a coupon for any one of our stores, if that works."

Lucina opened her mouth to reply.

"And before anyone says anything, that was rhetorical. I don't have anything else to give you, so you can take the coupon, or go home."

Lucina closed her mouth. Just in time, too, as Anna suddenly turned to point a finger at her.

"Once you're done with that, go find us some food. As for you," she said to Gregor, "you can get a fire going, and make sure the place is clean while you're at it. As for nightwatch... you two figure out something on your own, I don't care. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be fetching us some clean water." She reached out and grabbed a canteen of water; the same one Lucina had emptied earlier today. "Watch the kids while I'm gone, won't you?"

And with that, Anna strutted away, disappeared into the forest like the rat that she was. No further instructions, content to leave them on their own.

Lucina eyed the four Annas, still on the wagon, playing some game to themselves. She noted that one of the Annas was swinging around the healing staff–Boot Anna, perhaps–and she thought to warn them not to break it, before deciding that if they broke it, it wasn't her problem.

Setting up the tent was like second nature to her. Moving with practiced efficiency, she was able to get it wrapped up in ten, clean minutes, even knocking against the post three times to ensure that it was firmly planted into the ground. She quickly grabbed the mallet she had left lying on the ground–a tool she had brought only to fin that she hadn't needed it–and made her way back to the wagon to put it away.

As she did, she passed Gregor, still hunched over a hastily dug fire pit with a flint. Lucina glanced around, and she noticed that aside from the children, still distracted with what she was fairly sure was a game of hot potato with the heal staff, there was no one watching them.

Now was as good a time as any to find out what was wrong.

Lucina shuffled into Gregor's line of sight. When he didn't react, she knelt down to his level.

"Hello, Gregor," she said.

Immediately, she wanted to hit herself. Hello Gregor? It sounded so stupid.

Gregor didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he was ignoring her. Either worked for her, and she adjusted herself until she was sitting down next to him.

"Look. I'm sorry for trying to steal your job," Lucina said.

Gregor grunted, but said nothing. Better a wordles response than no response at all, Lucina supposed.

"I asked for it, yes, but it was the first thing I could think of while Anna and I were discussing things in that inn," Lucina continued. "I acted without thinking about how it would affect you. That is my fault. I know how difficult it can be to find jobs as a mercenary, and telling you to just go find another job was... insensitive of me."

Gregor stopped what he was doing. He turned to look at her, and for the first time today, Lucina saw none of that hostility from before.

"Is okay," he muttered. "Gregor does many mistakes while he is not thinking. Gregor regrets fighting Marth, too. Was foolish to fight unnecessary, especially when she fight so hard."

He pointed to his head for emphasis, at the cuts she could still remember leaving there. Lucina winced. Gregor chuckled at her reaction.

"No, no. Is nothing to feel ashamed of. Marth fight rough. Is good for mercenary, fighting rough. It will help Marth survive."

"Oh. Thank you?"

Lucina wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. Still, it was a small step. At least Gregor was talking to her now. From here, she could work her way up from smaller topics to figuring what this was all about. Perhaps a topic she was well versed in, one she could carry in conversation? Something like survival.

"So..." she started, motioning down at the flint, "you must be very experienced surviving, being a mercenary for so long."

"Yes. Gregor knows many things. He certainly knows much about surviving, and he is very experienced in surviving."

Lucina nodded. "Of course. That's what I thought. Now, Anna has assigned me the role of procuring food for us. The problem is, however, I know very little of the wildlife around here. What berries to pick, what creatures to hunt and how they behave. Do you think you could point me in the right direction?"

Gregor laughed quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly, but Lucina brushed it off. "But of course! Gregor is more than happy to show his expertise! Perhaps Gregor show her berries? Berries is safe, easy to find. Blueberries is very easy to find here. Search for bushes with blue, easy to see."

"I see," Lucina nodded, pretending that this was new to her. "But where do you think I could–"

"Ah! But Marth must be careful." He pointed to a bush just a little further down the road. "Marth see that bush with berries? Berries is not blueberries. Is nightshade. Is poisonous berry, not to be picked."

"And just what makes you sure that they are not blueberries?"

"Oh, that is simple. Blueberries, they have little spikes on head. Gregor has heard it called crown, but if that was true, berries would be called crown berries, no? Nightshade, they do not have spikes. That is how you know is dangerous."

"I see."

Gregor snapped his fingers. "Another berry is good, is raspberries. Raspberries is bright red. Marth cannot miss it in forest, is very easy to spot, but Marth must be careful too. Raspberries, they have little thorns that prick hands if they reach too fast."

"Oh yes, I am aware. I've gone raspberry picking before."

"Has Marth?" Gregor stared at her for a moment, seemingly taken aback, before shaking his head. "Then Gregor has no need to speak more of it, no? Perhaps berries too boring for Marth. Perhaps she know all about them. What about beasts, then? Meat is very tasty. Gregor knows what animals here taste best."

"You do? Do you think you could tell me?"

"But of course. If Marth is to ask Gregor what best meat is, Gregor would say deer. It taste very good, even when cooked over fire. Gregor has learned how to make good roast deer."

"Yes, and do you think–"

"But if Marth is hunting for deer, she must be very careful. Deer is tasty not just to humans. If Marth is out finding deer, she might find wyvern instead. Wyverns, they like tasty deer too."

Lucina hummed, nodding her head in agreement. "Then... what should I do if I meet a wyvern."

"Is simple. Everyone knows. Does Marth not know? Ah, is no matter, Gregor will tell Marth. Wyverns, they are predators. They eat the meat, which makes wyverns scary, but truth is, they are not scary at all. Predators, they scaredy cats. They want easy meat, weak meat. If Marth runs, they think she is easy meat. What Marth should do instead, she should charge at wyverns. Then they see she is not easy meat, and then they fly away."

That got Lucina to stop her train of thought in its tracks.

That was... wrong, in the most horrific way possible. Lucina had dealings with wyverns before. She had the scars to prove it, and she knew from firsthand experience that that was an easy way to get yourself killed.

She'd have thought Gregor would know better. She wanted to correct him, but as she opened her mouth, she came to the realization that he did not want to be corrected. That was why he had kept interrupting her, wasn't it? If she tried to correct him, he might shut her down.

Quickly changing the words in her mouth, Lucina said, "Well, say I am to get in a fight with a wyvern. What techniques do you know that I could defend myself with? Do you think you could teach me?"

Now it was Gregor's turn to stop. He frowned, then looked away. "Gregor cannot teach you."

"What? Whyever not?"

"He is busy is all. Teaching Marth, he has no time for that. Training takes too much time from Gregor, and he cannot be held down by another big responsibility."

A frown played at Lucina's lips. The Gregor of her time, he would never say something so... so... so irresponsible. Her Gregor was a kind, responsible man who would have dropped everything to help her, and for a second, that irritating thought was all she could think of.

"Ah. I suppose that is true. A mercenary like you, working for money alone, of course you would want to avoid extra responsibilities. I understand."

"Does Marth?"

Lucina blinked, and suddenly, Gregor was up in her face, with the biggest scowl she had ever seen him wearing.

"Marth knows nothing of responsibility. She is spoil sword, from noble family. She does not know what responsibility is like, what is like to fight for reason. Gregor should have known Marth knows no better."

And before Lucina could think of a response, he stood up and walked away, leaving Lucina to sit there alone.

Well, that could have gone a lot better, she thought sourly. I'm sure father would have handled the situation in a calmer manner. Now I'm back to where I started this morning, and I still have no clue what's making him act this way.

Her eyes flicked down to the fire pit. When she realized that Gregor had forgotten to light that as well, her frustration only increased tenfold.

And now I'll have to do this as well, won't I? Anna better be pleased with this when she comes back, or, the first chance I get, I'm finding myself a new employer.

Chapter Text

Gregor never did end up making night watch arrangements with her.

Now that it was the middle of the night, Lucina was beginning to regret that.

Anna had never asked about it when she had returned with the water, sitting down to cook as soon as she saw that Lucina had set up the camp. Once they had all eaten, Anna tucked her daughters into their bedrolls, and retired for the night.

That wouldn't have been much of a problem, had Gregor not also gone to bed with them and left her to take watch all by herself.

A cold night breeze swept through the clearing. The campfire flickered, a few sparks straying a bit too close to her for comfort. She stepped away, edging closer to the darkness fringing at the edge of the firelight. The darkness, Lucina did not fear. She had much experience with the dark. Fire? Not so much.

Besides, what was there to fear tonight? Bears? Did bears live around here? Wolves were probably an animal that could survive in a great deal of environments. Lucina vaguely remembered Yarne mentioning something about that. Compared to the Risen, however, they were paltry.

Then again, I had Falchion at my side back then. Now, would things be different?

Lucina shook the thought out of her head. No, she could certainly defeat a bear if it came down to it. She was sure her skills allowed that much, at least. And even if she couldn't, her fighting would probably alert Gregor, and he could help her bring it down.

Slowly, the breeze died back down, and the clearing returned to silence, save for the crackling of the fire behind her. The edges of the lit clearing grew and receded with every flicker of the flame, almost like she was standing on a small island amidst an ocean of darkness. The fire was the only thing keeping her from drowning, just as her hope had been the only thing keeping her from drowning in despair, back in that horrible future of hers.

And now that she was here, was it truly worth all the struggle? Lucina glanced back at the sleeping forms of Anna, her daughters, and Gregor. Not the people she would have liked to be with, but what choice did she have?

Perhaps it was too early to tell.

Lucina glanced back into the approaching darkness. It was quite late now. So late, even the creatures of the night, the crickets and the owls, were sleeping. Nothing moved out there, with no wind to disturb it, no Fell Dragon to breathe down on the earth, even as it slumbered. It was quiet. It was peaceful.

Lucina stretched her arms out and opened her mouth in a yawn. By the Gods, was it hard to stay away, with only a sliver of moon in the sky casting almost everything around her in pitch black and making it very uninteresting to look out on. Lucina was no stranger to staying up all night to keep watch, especially when her friends were tired, but... a little rest, even just for a minute or so, sounded like a nice idea. Sleep had become a rarity for her, after all.

Lucina considered going back to wake Gregor to have him take over her shift. It was well into the night, and had they negotiated shifts, now would have been when they were to switch. As she toyed the idea, however, she quickly realized that she had no idea how to breach the topic with how their last conversation had ended.

Her father would know how to smooth things over. Lucina opted to stand in place.

She was still tired, though. The last time she'd had a full night's rest was... last night, funny enough. But the time before that, that one was a little less clear. Maybe sometime back in Ylisstol, before the Fell Dragon had destroyed it? Lucina had no idea how long ago that was.

A starving man would eat the grass around him. A thirsty man would lick dewdrops from the leaves. A tired man had to sleep in tiny doses to keep himself from collapsing. Lucina could feel herself about to collapse. She sat down to keep herself from falling into the dirt, but that did little to help with the weight on her eyelids. The rising and crackling of the fire did little to help, slow, steady, like the lapping of waves.

Lucina had many fond memories of fire, memories of a time so long ago. Memories of lying down by the castle fireplace, dreaming of when she would hold Falchion by her side. Memories of sharing stories with her friends by the camp fire. Memories of Ylisstol burning to the ground.

Lucina's eyes snapped open, and she gasped awake. Her eyes flicked around frantically for a blaze that wasn't there. She grasped at her face, just barely glazed with sweat from the few seconds she had drifted off. At least, she hoped it was a few seconds.

A quick glance told her that not much time had passed. Groaning, Lucina's head fell into her hands.

Gods, I feel awful.

Another burst of embers snapped her from her thoughts. The fire had begun to dwindle. Sighing, Lucina strolled back over to the fire. She lifted a nearby stick and prodded at the coals. Sparks swarmed to the sky like insects, but the fire did not grow. Lucina reached to her left, fumbling for a bit as she felt around the ground next to her, before her fingers found the firewood pile. Slowly, she lifted a log out of the pile.

"What are you doing?"

Lucina jumped, dropping the log into the fire as she did. A shower of sparks chased after her, and Lucina spread her arms out as she forced away whoever was standing next to her from the fire. As soon as the fire died down, she looked down to her right.

Staring up at her, one of Anna's daughters kicked the ground. One that Lucina didn't immediately recognize, not without any of the things she'd used to identify her sisters, but one who looked... oddly familiar. "Sorry."

Lucina let out a long breath. "There is nothing to apologize for. I was not expecting someone to approach me so late. Do you need anything?"

"I need to use the bathroom."

"This late?" Lucina frowned. "Can't you go back to sleep?"

"It's a emergency."

Lucina threw a glance back at the tent, where the girl was supposed to be. She could try to force her to go back to bed anyway, but Anna had never been good at listening. There were many battles Lucina could fight through to the end. This was not one of them.

Lucina sighed. "Why ask me, then? You don't need my help."

"Can you watch me so I don't get eaten by a wolf or something?"

"I suppose I could," Lucina said, humming. She looked around for somewhere private and safe. Her eyes landed on a small tree just outside of the firelight.

"Here." Lucina reached over and pulled it aside, a grimace pulled on her face. "Scream if you see something."

"I'll do that!" Anna skipped over, and Lucina let the tree fall in place behind her, briskly walking back to the campfire.

A few seconds passed in awkward silence. A moment later, Lucina heard the tree rustle as it was pulled aside again, and Anna walked back through.

Lucina thought she'd go back to the tent. Instead, she sat down next to the campfire again.

"Go back to sleep," Lucina said.

"I can't. I'm starving. Do we have any food?"

"We don't. It's late, Anna. You need rest."

"But I can't sleep if I'm hungry." Anna looked around. "Hey, do you need help? I can help."

Lucina suppressed an irritated scowl, motioning back to the tent. So much for peace and quiet. "I don't need help. Please, go back to bed."

"But I wanna help. It looks like the fire is going out. Do you need me to look after it?" Anna reached over to the pile of firewood and dragged out a log.

Lucina's eyes widened. "Wait!"

But before she could move, Anna tossed the log in. Like before, a geyser of sparks shot out and rained down on the ground around it. Anna, however, had not had the foresight to keep her distance. Red hot embers splashed against her skin, and the girl let out a cry of pain.

Cursing, Lucina rushed to her side. She dragged the girl away, checking her skin for burns as she did. She found a few red marks on the girl's arms. "Don't do that. Have you ever tended to a fire before?"

Anna huffed and crossed her arms. "Of course I have. I've done it a hundred times. Who do you think I am, a spoiled princess?"

Lucina snorted. Gods, she hoped she wasn't like this when she was a child. She wasn't being paid to be mouthy, however, so she silently dug into the merchant's wares and produced a heal staff.

"Hand it over!" Anna said, grasping at the staff. "I can do it myself!"

Lucina held it away. "You can't use a heal staff on yourself."

"Why not?"

"I'm not quite sure. There's something about not being able to use your own energy on yourself. It's why you can't burn yourself with your own fire spells."

"Have you ever tried to?"

Lucina blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You won't know unless you try. I can try."

"No, you won't," Lucina said, crossing her arms. "I'm not getting into an argument with a child. Now shut up and let me heal you."

Anna grumbled unhappily, but ultimately, she sat down and lifted her arms for Lucina to heal. She acted like it was all such a big inconvenience for her, but it wasn't as if Lucina enjoyed this any more than she did. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could put her back to bed, and she could return to being alone.

Carefully, Lucina moved her clothing out of the way so she could clearly see the burns. As her elbow brushed against the girl's side, she let out a sharp gasp, a hidden bruise placed beneath her shirt, and a rather large one from the way Anna clasped at her side immediately after to rub it. Lucina only shot a brief glance at her side, before she raised the heal staff to her arms.

Even as uncommon as it had been for her to use a staff, healing came easily to her. With a single breath, green energy came pouring out of the staff, and the red marks on Anna's arms slowly disappeared. Hopefully, that strange bruising would heal too. Really, what was Anna doing to her children? Her mother would have never let her get in a position to be hit like that.

"Hey!" Anna said, her voice snapping Lucina's attention back to her. "Can you tell me a story?"

Lucina gave Anna an irritated look. "A story? Now?"

"I'm bored."

"You would be a lot less bored if you went back to sleep."

"I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm hungry, and I'm bored." Anna glanced back at the wagon, and her face lit up like she'd just remembered something. "Hey, you're rich, right? Why did you become a mercenary?"

Lucina's eyes followed Anna's, and she narrowed her gaze. "Why do you want to know?"

"I just want to know. Why would you come here if you're rich? It's not like you have to work to buy anything if you stayed home. Did you run out of money?"

"It's not about money," Lucina hissed. "Not everything is about money, you realize?"

"Then what is it about?"

Lucina huffed. She turned away and tossed another log into the fire, to buy herself a moment while she thought of a good lie.

Finally, she said, "My father is sick. I'm on a mission to find a cure for him, not to make myself money."

"Oh. Okay." Anna was quiet for a moment. "That sounds scary."

"It can be."

"Where are you going to find it?"

Lucina hummed. "Chon'sin."

"That's far."

"It is."

"I bet you can't wait to get back home."

Lucina had to stifle a laugh. An empty laugh. Home. Where could she go home? Her home was nothing but rubble, and Ylisstol certainly would not be welcoming her with open arms any more.

She had no home. She had nothing to hold onto but her hope, lighting her path into the future.

"Yes. It would certainly be nice," she replied.

"I mean, even if your dad dies, at least you'll still have that, right?"

Suddenly, Lucina whirled to face her. "It's not about that." she said, scowling.

"What is it about? My mom says that if she dies, we get her money. We win something either way."

"And they're still dead. There's no point in having anything then."

Anna tilted her head. "And?"

"And? What do you mean and?!"

"It's not like you're going to die. Why are you so worried? You are the most important thing to yourself, so worry about yourself," Anna chirped. "If they die, they'd want you to live, so you should always make sure that you treat yourself as the most important person. I heard that from a book."

Lucina rose to her feet. "Now you listen here–" Then she stopped herself.

Arguing with a child. Right.

Turning away, Lucina scowled and resumed her watch.

What right did a little girl have to lecture her about who to worry about? Lucina knew who she had to take care of. She had a duty to save the world. If she distracted herself, there would be no one else to stop what was coming. She had no time to worry about herself.

"What do you see?"

Lucina could feel Anna standing next to her. When she had moved so close to her, she didn't know, nor did she particularly care to know.

"Nothing," Lucina replied flatly. "Go back to sleep."

Beside her, Anna pouted. "But I want to help! I can help!"

"I don't want your help."

"But I can look while you sleep! Don't you want to sleep?"

Lucina huffed. "No."

"I don't want to sleep, too. I want to watch."

"There's nothing to watch." Lucina held a hand out toward the darkness, and like she'd said, the darkness did not move.

"There's a bunch to watch," Anna said, shaking her head. "There's the plants, there's the moon, and there's... there's..." Her eyes widened. "There's someone there!"

Lucina followed her eyes into the forest. Nothing had changed. The trees were just the same as they were before, and–a flicker of movement slipped through the bushes. Lucina narrowed her gaze and leaned forward.

Again, something moved.

"See! See!"

Lucina didn't reply. She took a step forward, drawing her sword.

A streak emerged from the bushes. Lucina gripped her sword tighter, then stopped. A fox stared back at her, standing atop a rock over the foliage.

"It's a fox."

Anna furiously shook her head. "No it isn't! I saw someone else there, I swear!"

"There's no one here. It's just us."

"There's someone else here, Miss Marth! They're going to attack us!"

The look Lucina shot Anna was nothing short of a woman at the end of her wit. "You're not helping! Why can't you just go back to bed?"

Anna froze. Slowly, she averted her gaze.

"Because I don't know if I'll still be here when I wake up."

Lucina blinked. Dots began to connect, and suddenly, it made sense. The bruise. Why she looked so familiar.

Oh.

"You were the one they kidnapped," she said, softly.

"It still feels that way."

And didn't Lucina know how that felt?

Lucina glanced at the darkness again. There were no eyes here to watch them, none except for the sliver of the moon above them. Everything was still as quiet as could be.

Lucina made her way to Anna's side. She knelt down. She placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Look at me."

Anna looked at her. Her eyes rippled with unshed tears.

Lucina smiled. "Do you want to help me keep watch?"

"I thought you didn't want my help," Anna mumbled.

"And you don't have to help. You don't have to go back to sleep." Lucina gripped her sword tight and held it out before Anna. "You don't have to worry about being kidnapped again, because as long as I'm here, I won't let them take you. And I will be here, always."

Anna sniffed. She wiped the tears from her eyes. Weakly, she returned her smile. "You promise?"

"I promise. Now, come." Lucina patted the ground next to her. "Sit with me. We can watch together. We can make sure no bandits come near here ever again."

Quietly, much quieter than before, Anna sat down next to her. Lucina turned to face the darkness, and she planted her sword in the ground.

It was getting late. She knew Anna needed sleep. She knew that her mother would never have let her stay up this late. She knew that if she were a more responsible woman, she would encourage Anna to go back to sleep. But...

Lucina looked back at Anna, humming as she tilted her head from side to side.

I didn't want to go to sleep for a long time after that. I would never force Anna to do what I could not.

Again, Lucina yawned. Anna noticed, and she nudged Lucina with her elbow.

"Hey! Don't go to sleep now!"

Lucina shook her head. "I'm not. I've slept less."

"That's not good," Anna said. Lucina could have pointed out the irony, but decided against it. "There's no one else here to take care of you. You should take care of yourself if you want to make it back to your dad in one piece."

Lucina opened her mouth to protest. She wanted to protest, but as she racked her mind, she found that she could not think of anything to reply. As much as it begrudged her to admit, she had no other retort, other than–

"I suppose you're right."

"I am," Anna replied smugly.

"But!" Lucina held up a finger. "I guess that means that I should go to bed now, shouldn't I? I've got to take care of myself, after all."

"No!" Anna grasped for her sleeve when Lucina made to get to her feet, and she gazed up at Lucina with a pleading look. "Please don't leave me!"

When Lucina returned it, her lips twitched up. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere soon," she said, quickly sitting back down. "I have to make sure you're safe too. Otherwise, I wouldn't have a job, would I?"

Anna sagged back, and a look of relief washed over her face. "No... I guess not."

Lucina hummed. Her sword slid back in its sheathe, and the fire crackled behind her. Craning her neck over her shoulder, Lucina tossed another log into the fire. That would keep it going for another hour or so.

"You better get comfortable. This is going to be a long night," she said, settling back in next to Anna.

Anna took a moment to reply, rubbing at her arms in the cold night air. "Then I hope you have plenty of stories, because I'm going to be with you for all of it!"

When morning came, Anna awoke to find her daughter sitting next to Lucina, fast asleep. Lucina helped load her into the wagon, and once they'd packed the camp, they set off for the next town over.

Chapter Text

It rained on her fourth birthday. A storm unlike any Ylisse had seen in decades.

No one showed up to her party because of it. Not even her parents could go out into the rain to buy her presents. Her mother had even promised to buy her the prettiest pink dress that she had wanted for weeks.

None of that would happen now. Her party was ruined, all because of some stupid rain.

And then, who else would appear at the door but Gregor, holding the very same pink dress her mother had promised her.

Lucina had later asked why he had done that, what had inspired him to walk through the flooded streets for something as stupid as a pink dress.

"Is not every day girl turns four," he replied. "Lucina should not have nothing! She should have something to remember day by!"

Lucina did get presents from the rest of her friends after that, but that dress remained in her closet years after everything fell apart.

Gregor would come through for her. Always.

"Hey! Wake up, sleepyhead!"

Lucina's eyes snapped open to the sight of a cloudy blue sky. In the distance, she heard the faint sound of thunder.

Ironic, considering what she had just been dreaming about.

Groaning, Lucina pushed herself up into a sitting position and rubbed the back of her head, sore from leaning against a pile of hard-cover tomes while she slept.

How long has it been since I've had a proper birthday celebration? Two years? Three?

Lucina could clearly recall the last time her friends had gathered together to buy a cake for her. When that had happened, however... that was a little harder to place.

She still missed those little celebrations, pointless as they were. She missed how, even among the darkness, such small celebrations lifted their spirits and reminded her and her friends that, no matter what happened, they would always have each other. Those memories had always kept her hope burning bright in the face of the end.

Now, it only served as a painful reminder that she was all alone out here.

Shaking away her thoughts, Lucina finally glanced around to take in her surroundings. To her left, the forest still towered over her. To the right, was a giant wooden wall next to the dirt road they'd arrived on. Sometime when she had been asleep, they had reached the next town.

"Glad to see you're finally awake!" Anna said as Lucina hopped out of the wagon.

Glancing over to her right, Lucina noted with surprise to see her children fumbling around in the grass, nailing wooden stakes into the ground and dragging around merchandise tables. Outside of the town's walls was by far one of the more unconventional places to set up shop, but then again, Lucina remembered Anna had a tendency to set up shop in the strangest places.

Lucina sighed. "I guess waiting for the town to let you inside would have been too much to ask?"

"Yep!" Anna stretched her arms over her head with a satisfied grunt. "After days on the road, you just gotta get up and move a little, you know? Now, why don't you help set up shop? I'll head inside and see if I can nab us some food."

Anna nodded her head to a set of tent poles still on the wagon, and before Lucina could protest she turned heel and disappeared through the town's open gate. Lucina watched her go with a frown. What sort of parent would leave their child out in the wilderness alone?

Then again, she supposed that was what she was here for; to make sure nothing happened to Anna's daughters. Orders were orders, after all, and so Lucina turned back and gathered a set of tent poles that were still in the wagon up into her arms.

"Let Gregor take poles," said a voice behind her.

Lucina jumped and cast a look over her shoulder. Standing behind her, Gregor loomed over with a disapproving frown.

Normally, Lucina would have insisted that she could handle things, but... she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to let her say no. Gregor was stubborn. He always was.

"By all means," she said, and she stepped aside.

Gregor grabbed the tent poles and slung them over his shoulder, making his way over to where Anna's daughters had abandoned the wooden stakes half-buried into the ground. One of the poles slid out of his grasp and fell to the ground. He did not stop to pick it up.

Lucina moved over to pick it up for him. A foot came down in front of her to stop her.

"Leave," he said, firmly. Harshly. "Gregor will take care of everything."

Lucina's eyes narrowed. She did not protest it. She did not appreciate being sidelined, either, but it looked like Gregor was not giving up any time soon. She would have to look for something else to do.

A quick look around, and Lucina found her answer. Anna's daughters ran around the wooded area, laughing and playing. Lucina had never had children of her own, but she imagined Anna would be none too pleased having to round them up herself.

"Hey! Anna!" she called, raising a hand.

The Annas didn't listen, continuing their game. Lucina let out a frustrated groan, and she made her way over.

The road beside them was getting a little busier now. Travelers and farmers from the local area who were arriving for the town's market day. It would be much safer if she gathered them off the road before someone could take advantage of them.

"Anna!" she said again. This time, they stopped to listen. Lucina sighed. "Come on, children. Let's head back."

Boot Anna, who was hanging upside down on a tree branch, groaned. "Aw, but we don't want to. Momma's gonna make us work the stand when she gets back."

"Well, your mother might be even more upset if she finds you out here. She might make you work even harder. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

The Annas groaned again, but they could not deny that she was probably right. Lucina had known Anna for sixteen years. The oldest of her daughters had to be no older than ten. Lucina knew her bag of tricks more than her own daughter probably did. Slowly, Lucina herded them back, pushing them away from the road despite their whining.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucina saw Gregor set down a tent pole and move toward her. She tried to pay him no mind.

"Come, children. We must not keep her waiting," Lucina said.

Or maybe they did. Children could be stupid like that, she thought to herself. Really, it's me who doesn't want to keep Anna waiting. If I make myself useless, I may lose my job.

"Hey there, beautiful," said a voice over her shoulder.

Lucina glanced back at the road, and at the travelers heading into town. She shook her head. Someone must be traveling here with their lover. It was no concern of hers.

What is taking Anna so long, anyway? She said she went into town to get food. I don't remember Anna being particularly picky, so it shouldn't take her this long to find something to eat, should it?

Lucina frowned, stopping in her tracks as she watched the Annas hop back onto the wagon. Had something happened to Anna? Did she need to go into town to find her?

"Hey, Gregor," she said, "Do you think something happened to Anna?"

"Are you ignoring me? Listen to me when I'm talking to you!"

The voice was closer now. Perhaps it was delusional of her to think but... maybe they really were talking to her? Though, this sounded a little too close for that.

Lucina turned around to see a hand coming for her face. It was slow compared to any Risen she'd fought. Without so much as raising an eyebrow, Lucina stepped aside.

Gregor rushed in where she'd been moments ago and caught the hand of a burly, red-haired man who had been approaching her.

"Lady is not interested," he said gruffly. "Leave lady alone."

The man growled, and he yanked his hand away. "Fine. I wasn't interested anyway. Damn Feroxians."

Lucina watched as Gregor returned to the tent with narrowed eyes. What surprised Lucina most wasn't that someone had tried to attack her at all–she'd been ambushed by Risen way too many times to be caught off guard by that–but that Gregor had still tried to save her, even after how hostile he had been to her all this time.

Perhaps there was still hope for him yet.

"I'll sell it to you for ninety six gold, no, make that ninte five gold!"

"That's a little out of my range. Do you think you could sell it for a little lower? Perhaps seventy gold?"

"Seventy gold? Oh, no no no, that's much too cheap. You know how much good hardback tomes'll cost you out in Plegia? Ninety gold."

"I'm not quite sure these are worth ninety gold."

"Yeah, but no other shop in town will sell this sort of stuff. I can't wait forever. Come on, do you want it or not? Make it snappy, chop chop."

"Could you lower the price to eighty gold, then?"

"Eighty five. That's as low as I'll go, take it or leave it."

Stood by the tent's entrance, Lucina frowned as she watched the old man fish out a handful of coins from his purse, counting them one by one. The old man sighed, looking none too happy as he dropped the gold into Anna's waiting hands. Lucina felt she could relate.

Anna's whole business of fleecing her customers for as much as she could get had always felt dirty to Lucina, but seeing it happen in front of her made it feel even worse. This was little better than a flat-out robbery.

Anna's business was dishonest, just as dishonest as the woman herself. A merchant at heart, her promises could be swayed by the wind passing through, and her words were worth little more than the gold she loved so much.

But what did she know about business? As far as she knew, perhaps this was just normal, and there was no better way to do it. That's what her Anna had always told her, and Lucina had never had enough knowledge on her trade to come up with a convincing response.

Sighing, Lucina looked away, hoping for a distraction before she was tempted to step in to intervene.

This is why I always made sure to keep my tent on the other side of camp to hers, she thought bitterly.

To her left, she noticed a freckled boy, nose buried in a book. The sight brought a smile to her face. Stories had always been a favorite escape of many of her soldiers, something to distract them while their lives were being uprooted around them. She had even indulged a few times herself, and could recall becoming so invested, she missed an important meeting or two.

Lucina knew the allure of a good book too well, which was why, when she spotted a pair of Anna's daughters creep up behind the boy, she was hardly surprised that he didn't notice them.

"Whatcha doing?" Boot Anna said, leaning over his shoulder.

The boy yelped and jumped away, his face burning a bright shade of red. "N-nothing! I'm just reading."

"Reading, huh?" Scarf Anna said, suddenly appearing behind him to snatch the book out of his hands. "Is it a good book?"

"Yes, it's a very good book. Could you please give it back?"

Boot Anna hummed. "I don't know. Isn't this our book?"

"Yeah!" Scarf Anna replied. "And don't you know it's rude to steal?"

"I'm not stealing!" the boy protested. "I'm just looking."

"Then go to a library! They have a billion books for you to look at." Scarf Anna huffed. "If you're not going to buy it, then go home!"

As the boy walked away, dejected, Lucina scowled. With how innocent they looked and acted, it was easy to forget that they were Anna's daughters. Though they may be different sizes, they were all the same rotten woman beneath, and nothing could change that.

Shaking the thought from her head, Lucina glanced over to her right at the other side of the entrance. Gregor had been stationed there, guarding it with her, and as Lucina peered at him, she caught a glimpse over his shoulder at the journal he was writing. At the top, it read “March 30th”. Three weeks before her birthday. Fancy that.

Though she was too far to make out what he was writing, Lucina decided it would be as good a place to start a conversation as any.

"What are you writing there?" she asked.

Gregor's journal snapped shut, and he glanced over at her with narrowed green eyes. "Why does Marth care?"

Lucina shrugged. "I was curious. That is all. If we are to be working together, we might as well get to know each other."

"Gregor's business is his business," Gregor huffed, and he stuffed the journal in his pocket.

"It's private business, I take it?"

"Marth takes correctly."

"Then..." Humming, Lucina glanced up at the road in front of them. What else could she bring up? Something Anna's daughter had asked a few nights ago popped into her head.

"Why did you become a mercenary? Is that something I may ask?"

"Marth can ask, yes."

Lucina waited. When it became clear Gregor would not respond, she frowned. "And?"

"Gregor did not say he would answer."

"Well, I would still like to know. You don't seem the type for mercenary work."

Gregor shot Lucina a suspicious look. "What is Marth saying? Does she think Gregor is too weak?"

"No, not at all!" Lucina said, raising her hands defensively. "You are more than strong enough to be a mercenary. You just... seem too kind for this line of work."

Gregor looked taken aback, not expecting that response at all. "Ah. Well... Marth go first! It is polite to let lady go first, no?"

Lucina frowned, but chose not to comment. It was fortunate for her that she had already had a lie prepared, and without missing a beat, she replied, "I became a mercenary to seek medicine for my ailing father."

"And where will she find medicine?"

"Rosanne, of course." Lucina smiled in a way that could have been mistaken for wistfulness, but in truth, it was a little laugh that she managed to stifle before it came out. "Speaking of destinations, where are you headed? Surely you did not join us for the sake of it?"

Gregor laughed. It was a loud sound, just like she remembered it, but–was that a hint of nervousness to it?

She shook her head. She must have imagined it.

"Gregor's destination? It is wherever road will take him!"

Lucina chuckled. "Quite a statement. It's like something out of a story book."

"Story book, yes!" Suddenly, Gregor's face brightened. He reached over to one of the shelves, and picked up a book; the same book she had seen the freckled boy reading minutes ago. "The Adventures of Ferdinand and Hubert", the title read.

"Is Feroxian tale, yes? Gregor's favorite when he was growing up." A smile spread on his face as he wiped a hand over the leather cover. "He read it all the time. Book, it inspired Gregor. We always dreamed to go see world. That is why he became sell sword."

Seeing him smile, Lucina couldn't help one of her own from breaking out. And it made sense, didn't it? The Gregor she knew, he had been all over the world. He had to have started from somewhere, and if he was inspired by a childhood story, who was she to judge?

"You know," she said, pulling his attention from the book, "I've seen much of the world myself. I would be more than happy to help you on your travels."

"Is Marth speaking truthfully?" He blinked, surprised, before his smile returned to his face. "Gregor still has much to see. He would welcome Marth's help."

Before Lucina could reply, Anna's voice cut into their conversation. "Alright, folks! Let's pack it on up! We've been here long enough, now let's skedaddle before the local merchant's guild catches wind of us here and tries to chase us out for sticking around, like they always do."

As the customers began to file out of the tent, one of Anna's daughters turned to her. "Momma! Can we go into town to buy candy?"

"Only if one of you stays behind to count the gold," she said, already walking over to pick up a bundle of axes left on the table.

Quickly, Anna's four daughters exchanged glances.

"I don't want to stay behind!" Boot Anna said. "If I don't go, you always pick caramel. I hate caramel."

Scarf Anna crossed her arms. "Well, I don't want to stay either. Counting money is boring. Besides, Anna always takes more candy for herself."

"No I don't!" Anna's oldest daughter whined.

"Yes, you do!" Boot Anna said. "I counted, and–Anna! Where are you going!"

Bear Anna, who had been making her way to the entrance, stopped and shot the rest of her sisters a glare. "I want to go. I never get to go."

Before the arguing could escalate further, Lucina heard the weapons clatter as Anna dropped them onto the wagon. "You know what, girls?" she said. "We've had such a successful morning. How, about just for today, I'll stay back and count the gold? You can go if you take someone else with you."

Immediately, all four girls turned to stare at her. Scarf Anna scurried up to her, and before Lucina could protest, she grabbed her hand and started dragging her toward the entrance flap.

"Let's go before they run out of caramels!" she said, giving Lucina no room to argue as the rest of Anna's daughters cheered and fell in line around her.

Lucina didn't think she would have been able to reject them. Anna would be upset with her if she did, and, if only for the sake of this job, she decided it would be best to remain on her good side. Besides, she'd made progress with Gregor.

That was the first time Gregor had smiled at her. This trip to the past had been full of losses, so this small victory was more than enough to leave her satisfied.

Still, as the Annas led her outside, she cast one last glance at Gregor. His words replayed in her mind.

"We always dreamed to go see world."

She hadn't missed that, and she certainly hadn't imagined it. The question that remained in her mind was: what had that been about?

Gregor was never the best speaker. Perhaps that wasn't what he had meant at all, she thought.

Somehow, Lucina doubted it was that simple.

Vincent had not been having a good week. Not only had he failed to capture a slave for his brother and him to sell off, but he'd been humiliated by some random girl too. It was as if the world was out to take him down.

This, however, was a welcome change of pace.

A sneer crept up Vincent's face. He leaned over the pair of merchants trembling on the floor, and when they shrunk away in fear, he let the satisfied feeling that washed over him take control.

This was how things were supposed to be. The world cowering from him, afraid of him as he took whatever he wanted from them. And really, what could they do to stop him? He was stronger than them. He'd earned the right to take everything from them.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he said. "Two little men, crossing the forest all alone." With his boot, he nudged away the limp hand of one of their bodyguards, grinning as another bandit moved to drag the corpse and toss it into the growing pile of bodies at the side of the road. "Well, you're alone now."

They had happened upon this little party only a few minutes ago. Merchants could brag about how they were as rich as any noble, but Vincent knew that unlike nobles, merchants hated to spend. They bought cheap rooms, they bought cheap food, and they bought cheap protection. Vincent thought that was quite stupid, and after only a minute of struggle, Vincent could guess that these merchants thought that was stupid too.

Really, their bodyguards had only survived for a minute. A pity. Vincent would have been more satisfied to kill them had they put up a much better fight.

"I've always hated you lot," he spat in their faces. And what could they do but tremble and listen? "You merchants, you lazy lot. You've never spent a day in your life out in the fields, or in the harsh sun, and yet you bathe in gold almost as much as those fat noblemen do. What did you ever do to deserve such happiness? You know, I always said that a man isn't worth his salt unless he has blood on his hands, and you..."

He cast a contemptuous look at the two merchants beneath him. "I don't see men here. All I see is a pair of sniveling, gutless piggies. And I say–" He paused to run a finger over the axe hilt strapped to his belt. "This is what you deserve."

"P-please don't hurt us! You can take our money, our wares, just please spare us!" one of the merchants whimpered.

Vincent hummed. "Spare you? And just why would I do that?"

"If you kill us, Lord Redwind will put a bounty on your heads! Every guard in the area will do anything to hunt you down!"

Not that that had ever stopped Vincent. Still, he pretend to be concerned about that, turning away with a frown as he crossed his arm. "That is true. What a bother." He huffed, then turned back to the merchants. "You know what? It's your lucky day. I'm feeling rather merciful, so I'll just take your possessions and let you go."

Vincent nodded to the men behind him–a new group he had gathered from camp after the previous men he had taken with him had turned out to be complete disappointments. The men nodded, and they started steering the merchants' horses back toward their camp. Goods well earned, in his opinion. He was going to feast well tonight.

Before the merchants could look relieved, however, he raised a finger and added, "I'll let you go, but only if you lot tell me something in return."

The merchant on the left, a big, red-headed fellow, nodded frantically. "We'll tell you anything!"

"Ain't that right? Then..." Vincent leaned close, until his breath was over their faces. "You know anything about where the secret seller is?"

"The secret seller?" The red-head merchant exchanged a look with his partner. The two of them grinned. "We'd gladly tell you. That pest has been violating the terms of our guild for far too long."

"Really? Then where may she be?"

"In the town just up ahead!" the other merchant babbled. "We saw her just hours ago, you can't miss her!"

"Is that so?" Vincent turned away. This day just kept getting better and better. "The town is a few hours away, is it? I bet the market will still be wide open by the time we get there. What do you say we do some shopping, boys?"

"H-hey," one of the merchants piped up, snapping his attention away from his thoughts and back to them. A mistake, on their part. "Y-you'll still let us go, won't you?"

"Yeah, yeah!" the other merchant said, nodding furiously. "We won't tell anyone if you make sure to take care of Anna."

Now, Vincent could have let them go. He could have shown them mercy. But this week, the world had not shown him any, so why should he do the same?

"I don't think I will," he sneered.

"But you already have our money! What else do you want?" the red-head merchant whimpered. "Whatever you want, we'll give it to you!"

Vincent turned to his men, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, boys! Did you hear anything?" When no one responded, his grin widened. "No? I don't either. All I hear is the squealing of piggies, rolling in the mud. A pair of gold stealing piggies, who take scraps from the tables of real men. And what do we do with piggies?"

"We string them up and roast them dry," one of his men replied.

"That's right! Boys, cut off their hands and feet and leave them for the sun to roast dry," Vincent said, clapping loudly. "We dine on bacon."

"You can't do this!" the red-head merchant's partner said. "If Lord Redwind finds our corpses, he'll hunt you down like the dogs you are!"

"Really?" Vincent looked taken aback. The merchants grinned, before he burst into laughter. "That's just rich, ain't it? Oi, Bennett, a few days ago?"

One of the bandits to his right tilted his head. "An eagle?"

"Not that one, you nimwit. The other one!"

"The Royal Guards leaving?"

"That's right, that's right. And who was it they were leaving with, Bennett?"

"I thinks it was Lord Redwind."

"Lord Redwind!" Vincent smacked a palm to his head. "Now, ain't that the strangest thing? You think your precious Lord Redwind will save you? Word's been out that he tried to usurp the Exalt herself. He won't help you, not when he'll be rotting in a dungeon while you two are bleeding out on the road."

Slowly, the other bandits began to close in. With wide, panicked eyes, the merchant blurted out, "But we swore we'd never tell anyone!"

"You did," Vincent sneered, "and we all know how much the word of a merchant is worth. Nothing more than one gold coin."

He turned away, grinning as the sound of screaming echoed out behind him. A man wasn't worth his salt unless he could kill the animals beneath them with his bare hands. He wasn't worth a cent unless he could listen to their desperate pleas for help, and smile like it was the most beautiful tune he had ever heard.

Vincent hated merchants. Just the thought of them made him sick, but what the merchants had told him had been very helpful indeed. He knew that wherever that Anna woman went, that blue-haired girl would follow. She had protected her whelp, so she was obviously a sword for hire.

No one humiliated Vincent and got away with it. No one. The only other person who had done so, a red-head man, had paid for it with his life. The blue-haired girl would be the same.

A man wasn't worth his salt without blood on his hands, and soon, her blood would be what stained his hands.

As the cries of the merchants bled into silence, one of the bandits behind him piped up, "Uh, boss?"

"What is it, dear?" he said, keeping his gaze ahead.

"I don't mean to speak against you, but a whole village? You really think we gots enough men to take them? What's to keep us from calling in your brother, eh?"

"What indeed." Chuckling, Vincent finally turned to face the man. "Didn't you hear what Bennett over there said? An arrest's been made for Lord Redwind. Within a week, I wouldn't be surprised if we hear an execution in the news. This new Exalt is making waves, waves that'll send the Halidom into chaos. Victor is going to ride that wave, bringing us riches and glory unlike you've ever seen before. Besides," Vincent said, stopping to sigh, "if he ever heard I got bested by some blue-haired whelp, I'll never hear the end of it."

"Is that all you want, boss? Revenge?"

Vincent grinned, It was an ugly thing, his lips peeling back to reveal teeth festering and yellow. "Oh, most certainly. Sweet, bloody revenge."

Chapter Text

Anna thought Marth was a very strange woman.

A few days after they had left the last town, Anna woke up to the sound of running. When she went outside to take a look, to her confusion, she caught a glimpse of Marth running past the camp.

Still sleepy, Anna yawned and stumbled over to sit by the fire as she waited for Mama to wake up and make breakfast. As she did, she almost tripped over her sister, fast asleep on a log in the middle of camp.

Anna briefly considered waking her up and asking what she was doing there. Before she could move, however, she heard running again. A minute later, Marth ran past again.

That, Anna decided, was a lot weirder than her sister sleeping outside. Anna pushed off the ground and walked over to the road. Marth was already far away. Still, she couldn't go far if she was supposed to watch the camp, and sure enough, after a few minutes of running in one direction, she turned around and started running back.

As she got closer, however, Anna saw that she wasn't going very fast. Anna could probably run faster than her if she really tried. She was running, but she was doing it slowly, and Anna thought it looked stupid. What was the point of running if it wasn't to go as fast as possible?

When Marth got closer, Anna cupped a hand to her mouth and yelled, "What are you doing?"

"Running," Marth huffed out.

"Why are you running so slowly? You should run faster!"

"It's not about running fast, it's about running for a long time."

"But why?"

But Marth had already run out of range to shout a reply. Anna sighed, and sat back down.

She only had to wait five more minutes until Marth came back.

"Why do you want to run so much?" Ann asked.

Marth's eye flicked over to her, before she turned back to the road ahead. "It's none of your business."

"But I want to know."

Marth's face twitched in a funny way. Her mama said it was rude to make remarks about people's faces, though, so Anna kept it to herself. "I'm training."

"Training?"

Anna watched as Marth ran out of hearing range again. Being the daughter of a merchant, she knew many things. In their trips to Ylisstol Castle, she once saw a bunch of Royal Guards training in the courtyard. Apparently, people trained to get stronger.

Anna knew that her mama sold a lot of heavy stuff, and heavy stuff was hard to carry. Marth obviously was training so she could be strong enough to carry heavy things.

That gave Anna another thought. If I run a lot, can I help mama carry heavy things too?

Marth ran past her again. This time, Anna jumped to her feet and sprinted after her.

Like Anna had thought before, Marth was running slower than her. Anna was able to pass her in three seconds. Anna ran for a few seconds more, before she tired and stopped to catch a breath.

To her surprise, Marth just ran past her.

"Wait!" Anna cried, stumbling after her. "Slow down!"

Marth glanced back at her again. "What are you doing?"

"Helping!" was the word that came out of Anna's mouth.

Marth snorted. Then, she turned back to the road. "Help with what?"

"I'm going to help you lift heavy stuff!" Anna paused. "That's why you're training, right?"

"I'm not training for that."

"Then why are you training?"

Marth rolled her eye. "To save the world. What else?"

Anna blinked. That sounded cool! Weird, but cool! With renewed energy, Anna took off after Marth.

"Can–can I help?" she asked as soon as she caught up with Marth.

"Don't you have anywhere else to be?"

Anna shook her head. "Mama's asleep."

Marth looked back over to her and frowned. "Well, do you think you could go back? You're distracting me."

"I'm not distracting!"

"Yes, you are. It's hard to focus while you're here talking to me, and–"

Suddenly, Marth yelped and tumbled to the floor, having tripped over a rock on the road. A rock she might have seen, if she hadn't been talking to Anna. Anna skidded to a stop and rushed back to her side in an instant.

"I'm sorry! Are you okay?" she said, sitting down next to Marth.

Marth's hiss told her more than enough. "It's fine," she replied. She pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off. "There's nothing to apologize for. Oh, that's not good."

Anna followed Marth's gaze, and she gasped. On Marth's sleeve, a hole had opened up, and blood was dripping through.

Marth hissed again. "Do you think you could find a vulnerary and some–where are you going?"

But Anna wasn't listening as she dashed back to the camp. Digging around the wagon, she fished out a heal staff and ran back to Marth's side.

"Don't worry, I can fix this!" she proclaimed as she held the heal staff above her head.

Marth, however, didn't seem happy with that, frowning instead. "I appreciate it, but do you think you could bring me a vulnerary, too?"

"Why?"

"I'd like to clean it first. That's all."

Huffing, Anna dropped the heal staff and ran back to the wagon. The vulneraries were a bit harder to find, but after a few seconds more of digging, Anna pulled them up and rushed back to Marth.

Marth thanked her, pried off the cap, and dribbled a few drops onto her arm. After rubbing it with her sleeve, she held it out toward Anna. What she wanted was not lost on Anna.

Picking up the heal staff, Anna held it over the bleeding spot on Marth's skin. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

"What are you doing?" she heard Marth say.

"I'm doing what you taught me, remember?" she replied.

"What I–" Even though Anna couldn't see her, she could imagine the confused look on her face. She did stop talking, though, and Anna was thankful for that. That made it easier to imagine everything in the right place.

Anna took another deep breath, and let the healing magic run out of her and into the staff. When she opened her eyes, the cut was gone.

"I did it again!" Anna raised her hands over her head and cheered.

Marth smiled back. "I suppose you did."

"Now–" Anna turned back to Marth, clutching the heal staff close, "Can I help you with your training?"

Marth's smile slowly faded into a frown. She looked at the camp, then back to Anna. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope!"

"This will be difficult. Are you sure you want to help?"

"Yep!"

Marth ran a hand through her hair. She looked up at the sky, and she sighed. After a pause, she looked back at Anna. "I suppose I owe you one. Return the vulnerary and the heal staff, then I'll let you come with me."

Her last defeat had been an eye-opening one. Lucina would have thought that her time in the past would have toughened her up considerably. Apparently, she'd thought wrong.

If she couldn't defeat Uncle Gregor, how could she hope to save the world? Clearly, something needed to be done about that, and that was exactly what she planned to do.

All my time spent in Ylisstol's dungeons must have made me rusty. If I am to stop Aunt Emmeryn's assassination and change the fate of the world, I've got to make sure my body is up to the task, she thought.

It was that line of thinking that had stirred her from her nightwatch to take a jog. Lucina preferred to train with a sparring partner, but for what it was, it would have to do. After all, what good was a weapon if one did not have the strength to use it?

An hour had passed since then. The sun was up now, which meant the others would be stirring. One of Anna's daughters had already come to bother her about joining her. That same daughter was now clutching her back, trying not to pass out. If there was one good thing Lucina could say about Anna's daughters, it was that they were persistent. Boot Anna had managed to last three laps before she had collapsed, leaving Lucina to carry her back to camp.

As she got closer, and the sounds of Anna rousing her daughters from their beds reached her ears, she thought, My birthday is in two weeks. It isn't every day a girl turns seventeen. I should celebrate.

Except... was there really a point to celebrate it? Before, she had friends to cheer her on. Now, her birthday would pass to everyone else completely unheard and unseen.

"Hey Marth! Up bright and early again, I see?"

Lucina was snapped out of her thoughts by Anna's voice. Glancing over, Lucina gave her a tired smile and replied, "Well, you know what they say. There's no better way to start the day than bright and early."

"Don't you know it!" Anna said, smiling back.

Lucina was hardly surprised. That had been what her Anna had said to her all the time, whenever Lucina had come across her in the early morning. Lucina began to make her way over to the wagon, perhaps to catch some sleep before they left for the day, when Anna stepped in front of her and cut her off.

"By the way, we're just about ready to hit the road, by the way. Won't you be a dear and help pack up?"

Lucina frowned. "Why couldn't you ask Gregor?"

"I already had Gregor go out and catch breakfast from a nearby stream. I don't think he'll be back for some time, so you'll have to handle it by yourself. You think you can do that?"

Lucina wanted to say no. A quick glance over her shoulder, and she found Boot Anna already asleep. It was a little petty to be jealous of a child, that she was willing to admit, but Lucina was tired from staying up all night, and she was tired from all that running she'd done. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and find somewhere to sleep.

Anna's sharp gaze told her that she wouldn't be taking no for an answer, and however much it pained her to admit, the woman was paying her. Her hands were bound to her word.

With a sigh, Lucina nodded. "I'll have everything cleaned up right away."

"Thanks a bunch! I'll go see if Gregor needs any help. You make sure the girls don't wander off, okay?"

And just like that, Anna scurried away, leaving Lucina to pick up her mess. Lucina watched her go, before walking back to the wagon and gently letting Boot Anna down to rest on the wagon.

Anna's other daughters were already up and sitting around the smoking fire pit. The Anna who had kept watch with her was awake too, albeit more tired than the rest. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she saw Lucina approach and smiled at her.

Lucina decided to call her Sleepy Anna.

Smiling back, Lucina walked over and began to take down the tent. Once she had pulled the stakes from the ground and wrapped them in the cover, she dragged it back to the wagon and packed against the side.

The bed rolls were next. Lucina rolled them up and hauled them over and nestled them next to Boot Anna. As she tucked the last roll into the wagon, her fingers brushed against something small and soft. Curious, Lucina unfurled the bed roll on the wagon to see what it was.

Nestled on the crumpled straw mattress was a teddy bear the size of her palm. Lucina picked it up and inspected it. The bear looked surprisingly clean for something traveling around with a family of merchants. As Lucina lifted its arms and looked over the stitching, she noted that the seams were very well put together. Older stitching would have been more frayed and tattered, so it was safe to say this bear was new. Lucina also couldn't shake the feeling that the bear looked somewhat familiar.

"That's mine," a quiet voice whispered from behind her.

Lucina looked to her left. Standing on the wagon right next to her, Bear Anna stared down at her with a frown. Her eyes were set on the stuffed bear. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she wanted.

That also explained why it looked so familiar. Lucina recalled seeing this bear sold by a vendor back when she had been in Ylisstol. It had seemed like a vendor that would be popular with children, so it was no surprise that one of Anna's daughters would have one.

Lucina also noted that it was similar to a bear her Anna had kept with her at all times. It was possible that it was just a coincidence; there could be many children with bears like this one, and Ylisstol's marketplace was a popular place. It was possible another Anna had the very same bear that she carried around. Possible, but not something Lucina would gamble on.

Lucina held it out for Anna to take. Bear Anna did so with a pout.

"Is this bear important to you?" Lucina asked as she did.

Bear Anna huffed. "My mama gave it to me for my birthday."

"Really?"

"Yep. I turned four two weeks ago, so mama bought me a cake too."

"I see."

Bear Anna nodded, and she turned around and walked back to the end of the wagon. To Lucina's amusement, however, she did not jump off immediately, sitting down at the edge and swinging her legs as she eyed the ground as though it was made of lava.

"Do you need help?" Lucina asked, making her way over.

"No," Anna replied. She inched forward, then stopped, then inched forward, before she pushed herself back.

Clearly she did. Lucina grabbed her under the arms and brought her back to the ground.

"Thanks," Bear Anna muttered, before she ran back to her sisters.

Her mother bought her a cake and a present, did she? Lucina thought, a smile creeping up on her face. I suppose I don't need anyone else to know it's my birthday. It's not as if Anna had any friends to invite to her celebration. Having someone to share my happiness with would be nice, but as long as I can be happy with my celebration, that is all I need.

It wasn't every day she turned seventeen, and she needed something to look forward to. She would be out here alone for who knows how long.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps shook Lucina out of her thoughts. Lucina's gaze traveled down the road, where she found Gregor jogging toward them with a large fish in his hands.

As soon as he reached them, he held the fish aloft and said, "Rejoyce, children! Gregor has returned, and he arrives bearing breakfast!"

"Where's mama?" one of Anna's daughters piped up.

"Anna?" Gregor threw a glance over his shoulder. "She was walking. She will catch up soon. Fear not, for Gregor shall cook while Anna's daughters will wait!"

He headed over to the wagon to retrieve the matchbox stashed inside. As he passed by Lucina, she called out to him, "You like running too, Gregor? If you wake up early, you could join me for my morning run. I could use a partner."

"Gregor appreciates offer, but he is afraid he will have to decline," he said, brushing past her. "Gregor runs when he feels like. Early morning is much too early for him."

"Okay," Lucina said. "Just let me know if you change your mind."

But Gregor didn't hear her, already crouched over the fire pit and striking the match against the box.

Lucina thought nothing of it. Gregor had always been carefree, so his rejection didn't surprise her. It did, however, disappoint her. She would have liked to spend a little more time getting to know him.

But she did not expect him to warm up to her quickly. She would have to be patient, and wait for the right moment to befriend him.

Thunk.

Lucina's axe cleaved through the log and buried into the stump it rested on. As she picked up both halves and tossed them into a pile nearby with one hand, she reached over with her other and plucked another one to take its place. When it came down to it, chopping wood was never a bad way to pass the time.

Without a sparring partner, it was her only way to pass the time, too.

Eying the axe as she raised it above her head once again, Lucina noted with mild annoyance at how rusty the blade was. For someone who prided herself in high-quality goods at a low price, Anna certainly didn't seem too keen on spending the time to maintain her own tools. It was one of her many quirks, being very picky on what to spend her time on.

Lucina would have asked Anna to be her sparring partner, had "cheating" not been one of the things Anna considered worth her time. Fighting a trickster's patented brand of cheap tricks and tomfoolery was not something Lucina considered fun, especially in a spar, so she had stuck to chopping wood.

Perhaps I might ask for other things from her, Lucina thought as she placed another log on the tree stump. Time off for my birthday, maybe? Surely she would not mind if I asked for a day of rest a week and a half from now, would she?

Then she thought back to that morning a few days earlier, when she'd been out for a jog. Boot Anna had been pretty stubborn on joining her, and nothing Lucina said had seemed to dissuade her. Anna could be stubborn like that, even over something like asking for time off. It would have been a waste of time, anyway.

It seems I will have to find spare time to celebrate my birthday. Lucina wiped a sleeve over her forehead and sighed. That, and I'll have to celebrate it alone. This is looking less appealing by the second.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Gregor hauling the bed rolls out of the wagon, helping Anna to set up her camp.

A thought crossed her mind. Her Uncle Gregor had always loved birthdays. Perhaps...

"Gregor," she said, waving at him as he passed her. "Once you're finished with that, would you like to help me chop wood for the fire pit?"

Gregor frowned, and he shook his head. "Gregor is busy. He cannot aid Marth."

"I can see that, but I was asking if you could help me when you were done."

"Marth appears to be handling task very well. It does not seem like she needs Gregor's help."

Lucina made to call out to him again, but he had already turned away and resumed his task. Frowning, she turned back to hers.

Had she done something wrong? Was there a reason why he had rebuffed her twice? She knew she and Gregor were not on the best of terms, but she couldn't particularly recall an instance when she had insulted him.

Before she could let that line of thought go any further, she felt someone tug her sleeve. She looked down, and her frown only deepened.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Scarf Anna pouted and crossed her arms. "Mama told me to come help you."

"I have this handled on my own."

"Yeah. But mama doesn't want me to eat all the caramels, so she told me to make myself useful if I wanted more." Scarf Anna flung her scarf over her shoulder and reached out for Lucina's axe.

Lucina really didn't want to give it up, but when she glanced over at Anna, she saw her wave a bag of caramels at Scarf Anna. It seemed Anna was stubborn when it came to her children, too.

At the very least, it would give Lucina a chance to talk to Gregor. Lucina held out the axe for her to take, and as soon as Scarf Anna grabbed it out of her hands, Lucina began to make her way back to where Gregor was setting up the tent.

"Ow!" She hadn't even taken five steps before she heard Scarf Anna cry out in pain.

Lucina glanced over at Anna, but she seemed preoccupied with the fire. She didn't seem intent on helping her own daughter anytime soon, leaving the responsibility to Lucina. She sighed, and walked back to where Scarf Anna was clutching her hand, the axe lying in the grass beside her.

"What's wrong," Lucina asked, kneeling down to inspect her fingers.

"I hurt my fingers."

"How did you hurt your fingers? They shouldn't be near anywhere dangerous."

"I hit them on the log."

That wasn't nearly specific enough. Lucina pinched the bridge of her nose. "Could you pick up the axe and try again?"

"Do I have to?"

"Please, just try."

Scarf Anna grumbled, but she picked the axe off the ground and held it over the log. Before she could swing it down on the log, Lucina held up a hand.

"Wait. You're holding it wrong."

Scarf Anna looked back at her, confused. "How am I holding it wrong? I thought you were just supposed to hold it!"

"You're not supposed to place your hands so close to the blade. You might cut yourself, you know. To properly hold an axe, you must keep your hands near the base, like this."

Lucina pinched the blade of the axe, and slowly, she dragged it up until Scarf Anna's hands were nestled at the end of the handle. Still, Scarf Anna frowned, and she looked at Lucina with a pout.

"But it's hard to move the axe like this."

"You'll figure it out yourself. I have faith in you," Lucina said. Then, she turned and walked back to camp.

"Hey, Gregor," she said. "Is there–"

"Miss Marth?"

Lucina held back a groan, and before Gregor could even notice she was calling out to him, she returned to Scarf Anna's side. She was hardly surprised to find the axe only half-buried in the log.

"Is there a problem?"

"It's not working," Scarf Anna huffed.

Planting a foot on the log, Lucina yanked the axe out and handed it back to Scarf Anna. "Here. Try again."

Scarf Anna took it with a little more eagerness this time. She held it like Lucina had shown her, and she raised it above her head. Then, with a cry, she swung it forward and into the log.

Again, the blade buried itself halfway into the log and stopped.

Lucina sighed. She motioned for Scarf Anna to move aside, and she pulled the axe out of the log. "Your posture is improper, and you're putting too much effort into your swing," Lucina said, hefting the log over her shoulder. "You'll wear yourself out if you swing like that."

"Then how am I supposed to do it?"

"Watch. I shall demonstrate for you." Lucina moved to stand in front of the log, and raised her axe. "First, make sure your feet, are shoulder-width apart. Second, when you swing, don't force the axe to go down. Let the earth pull the axe into the log. Do that–" Lucina swung, and the log cleaved in two. "–and you will see success."

Scarf Anna's eyes flew wide. She glanced at the log, then back at Lucina. "I want to try!" she said, and she reached for the axe.

"By all means." Lucina handed the axe back to her, and she placed another log on the stump. "Now, keep your legs shoulder width apart–yes, like that–and as you swing, let the earth pull the axe down."

Lucina expected her to make a cut, but she did not expect her to get far. She expected her to have to pull the axe out again, and show her how to do it again. Cutting firewood had not been one of the things Anna had put much stock into, given how rusty her axe was.

To her surprise, Scarf Anna cut straight through. As the log split in half and tumbled to the side, Scarf Anna looked eagerly back at Lucina.

"Wow," Lucina said, her mouth in a thin line. "That's impressive."

Her Anna had never been so quick to take up chopping wood. When Lucina had known her, she had complained every time it was her turn to do it. Lucina could even recall a few times she had paid Owain to do it for her.

Somehow, her daughter had turned out different. Even if she would become the Anna Lucina knew, right now, she was a different person.

The same, of course, could be said for Gregor. Lucina's eyes flicked back to Gregor, and as she watched him stumble over a tent pole he had left lying on the ground, a brief sadness flashed in her eyes.

A memory resurfaced, one from Ylisstol. She could remember how Emmeryn stared her down in that dungeon, how fierce and how ready to fight she looked. That Emmeryn was not the same Emmeryn her father had told her countless stories of.

Coming back into the past, she'd thought she knew everyone. She thought, by coming back here, she would be able to easily find familiar faces. She couldn't have been more wrong.

Chapter Text

This town was a lot colder than the last one. Lucina could see more lanterns hanging on the street, more fires burning through the hearths in the window, and the villagers had pulled on warmer clothes. Ferox was a colder place, so it was little wonder that, as they came closer, the people warmed up accordingly.

Right now, Lucina wished she had the money to buy one of those coats for herself. It would have certainly made her a lot more comfortable, laid out in the back of Anna's wagon on a bed made of Bolganone tomes and Ylissean tapestries, a hand over her eyes as she tried to calm her racing heart after a morning of jogging on the road. She didn't think Anna would have appreciate her sweating all over her wares, but it wasn't as if there were any better places for her to rest.

Her all night shifts hadn't helped, either. Between breaking out of Ylisstol's dungeon and this, Lucina felt like a dead woman walking. As strange as it was to admit, she'd slept better back in the future.

Is this how I die? Lucina thought glumly to herself, staring at the cloudy morning sky through her fingers. Not to Risen or the forces of Grima, but from collapsing from a lack of sleep?

If she failed to stop the world's end for such a stupid reason, Lucina would never be able to forgive herself. Really, she needed to speak to Gregor about this, but Anna had kept her so busy so she'd never found the time.

Besides, right now, she had bigger problems to worry about, like the shadow that cast over her from the top of the wagon.

"Rise and shine, Caroline. We've got money to make and rules to break," Anna said, her grin so bright Lucina had to look away to keep herself from going blind.

"What do you want with me?" Lucina muttered.

"Oh c'mon, what's with that attitude? I'm not paying you to lay around all day, you know. Get up, get going, see the sun and greet the day!"

Lucina groaned. "You're not paying me."

"And that's not going to change unless you get to work!"

Which, Lucina noted, didn't really matter to her; as long as she was able to stay with Anna long enough to get into Ferox, she didn't care what she was paid. Still, having a few coins to weigh down her pockets would be nice, so with a sigh, she pushed herself off the wagon and stumbled toward Anna's already half-made tent.

Behind her, she heard Anna follow her steps. "Hey, hey! Are you okay? You look like a corpse risen outta the ground."

Lucina choked on that, nearly turning her around to ask her where the corpses were rising out of the ground, before she realized how much of a madwoman that would have made her sound.

"I'll be fine," she said, and she brushed the woman off. "You needn't worry for my health. I've been worse."

"That ain't a good thing, hun. You look like you slept like a piece of plywood in a hurricane. Have you been getting enough sleep? You should take care of yourself if you want to stay in one piece?"

Normally, Lucina would have done her best to simply ignore her prodding questions. Normally, Lucina would not feel like the Fell Dragon had seared away everything beneath her skin.

Her Anna had always been nosy. Lucina had never rebuked her because she had been useful in procuring high-quality weapons and goods.

She had no such reservations about this Anna.

"And why do you care?" Lucina snapped, and she turned to face her with a scowl. "What personal investment do you have to my well being, huh?"

"Relax," Anna replied. "Is it so wrong for me to worry about someone who works for me? I can't know if you'll do your job very well if I have to worry about you falling asleep in the middle of work."

"Well, you don't have to worry. Tired or not, I won't leave a job unfinished."

"I'll hold you to that. Don't go back on that, okay? It's bad for business."

Lucina mumbled an affirmation, waving a hand over her shoulder as she heard Anna turn around and walk away. As much as she despised the woman, she was her employer, and Lucina did have work to do.

By the road, Anna's daughters were already playing some game by themselves. What it was, Lucina hadn't the slightest clue. Boot Anna was hanging from a branch, while Scarf Anna clung to the branch above her. Bear Anna was several feet away chasing Sleepy Anna with a bronze axe that Lucina was fairly sure she wasn't supposed to have, but when Lucina asked herself if she wanted to risk losing her hand over that, she found that, surprisingly, the answer was no, so she decided to let them be.

Gregor, as always, was already up and working on the other side of the road, hauling the tent poles over to a clearing a few feet away. His arms were struggling to hold such a full load, however, and when one of the poles slipped out of his grasp, Lucina leaned over to pick it up.

A boot came down to stop her. "Gregor appreciates, but he needs no help," Gregor said.

Lucina frowned. "There's no shame in accepting it, you know."

Laughing, Gregor knelt down to pick it up and shooed her away. "No no, is fine! Marth is too kind, but she must have other things to do, no?"

Were Lucina more rested, she might have insisted. It was her duty, as a leader and a friend, to make sure those around her could complete their tasks as comfortably and safely as possible, but...

"Carry on then," Lucina sighed, returning to the wagon.

Did he not like her? She knew that they were practically strangers, but for him to reject her help so many times... she had offered to help him a few days ago. Perhaps it had been a week? Had it been a week already?

Shaking her head, Lucina dragged a table up and out of the wagon, sliding it over to where Gregor had begun to drive in the poles. She returned the wagons to bring the wares to the table, and had almost finished laying out tomes for display before she noticed that the Annas had disappeared.

"Gregor. Have you seen Anna's daughters?" she asked, setting down the last tome.

Gregor laughed. "Girls will be girls, no? They play game, they will return."

Lucina narrowed her eyes, and for the first time, she found herself grating against that carefree attitude. The same carefree, playful attitude that she had so many fond memories of–here, she would find no help from it.

"Anna!" she said, turning away and calling into the forest. "Anna! If you can hear me, please come back!"

No one replied. Lucina crossed her arms. "Your mother would be worried if she found you all missing when she returns. She might not even give you any candy."

A leaf twitched. Lucina caught it in a bush only three feet to her right. Anyone else might have dismissed it, but Lucina had learned to be careful. She approached it, stepping carefully to not make a sound. Slowly, she reached down until, like a predator, she snapped forward and dragged Scarf Anna out by her scruff.

"Hey! Put me down!" the girl hissed, flailing and kicking.

Before Lucina could ask why, Bear Anna popped out from behind her and touched Scarf Anna's boot.

"I win," she said.

Scarf Anna groaned. "That's not fair! You cheated!"

Bear Anna stuck out her tongue. "If you win, it's ain't cheating."

"Anna." Both Annas turned to Lucina, and they wilted under her narrowed gaze. "Where are you sisters?"

"In there," Bear Anna said, and she pointed inside the woods.

Lucina sighed. She put Scarf Anna down, cupped her hands, and yelled, "Anna! Return here at once, or I shall ensure that your mother does not bring you any candy!"

To her surprise, she barely had to wait two seconds before the remaining Annas stumbled out of the nearby forest like rats. Walking up to her, Boot Anna placed her hands on her hips and said, "What are we supposed to do, huh?"

Lucina motioned back to Gregor. "You can help by setting up. The sooner you finish, the sooner you will have the time to play."

Lucina knew children did not like to work. She knew she would meet resistance, but she had assumed Anna's daughters would have taken after their greedy mother to be different. When the four of them groaned, she could have groaned with them.

"What's wrong?" she asked instead.

"Do we have to?" Scarf Anna asked, and she collapsed into a boneless pile at her feet.

Lucina frowned. "It is part of your duty as a member of this family that you assist your mother in her trade. You do plan to join her in your family business, don't you? You dream of becoming as successful as her, don't you?"

Boot Anna sighed and fell back on her butt. "Why do we have to do it now? We can do it later."

"And when will later be? Tomorrow? Next week? Next year?"

"I don't know. Later, I guess."

Oh, how Lucina hated that phrase. She hated how innocent it sounded, how harmless it was. How carefree she had been until her entire world came crumbling down and almost buried her alive.

"And when it is later, what will you do then?" Lucina said. She lowered a hand to the sword at your hip. "I always told my father I would train for my duties later. Then he fell ill, and I had nothing to show for it but the dirt on the ground when the weight of his duties fell upon my shoulders."

When her gaze fell upon the Annas, it was with every struggle, every loss, every life she could have saved. Anna's daughters backed away. Lucina didn't care, not as she could feel the flames of Castle Themis' lick her skin.

Slowly, she said, "My destiny caught up with me. What will you do when yours does the same?"

Anna's daughters shared a look. One by one, they picked themselves off the ground. Like soldiers off to war, they dragged their feet over to the wagon and picked wares off from the back, before placing them on the tables as Gregor finished pulling the tarp over the tent poles.

Lucina hadn't meant to scare them. She doubted they had even the slightest clue what she was talking about, but clearly, she had been very loud, as her throat felt sore. Her legs, too. Shakily, Lucina hobbled over to a nearby stump and sat down.

The sun was much too hot. It burned against her skin, and yet Lucina found herself shivering against the cold breeze of a memory from a time that seemed just barely out of reach.

It was at that moment that Anna returned, with a basket of bread in hand. She looked around, nodding when she saw her daughters at work, and when her eyes fell on Lucina, she nodded.

"I don't think I've ever seen them put this much pep in their step," she said. "You did this, didn'tcha?"

Lucina spared a glance at Anna's daughters.

She did not like the woman. She was selfish and single minded, and she had betrayed her and her friends when it mattered most.

But she was a persistent woman, and looking back at Anna's daughters, that was exactly what they were doing. Had she been like them when she was younger, perhaps things wouldn't have turned out like this. Perhaps she wouldn't feel like she was about to collapse after a morning of jogging.

"This is their doing," she replied, after a moment of thought. "They are taking control of their destiny."

Anna hummed. "They wouldn't have done anything by themselves. They're kids. They need a hand to take to get going."

"They work harder than I ever did at their age."

"Well, I'm glad that ain't the you I picked up a week ago, huh?" Anna patted her shoulder. Lucina only gave her a sideways look. Anna returned it with a smile, and she picked a loaf out of her basket and placed it in her hands.

"Eat," she said. "We've got a busy day ahead of us. I wouldn't want one of my workers going hungry, would I?"

Lucina was not one usually for shopping, but as she stared at the dress laid out on the display table of the stall, she could not help but wonder what it would feel like to purchase something like it. The dress was a bright, purple thing with frills, something Severa probably would have liked to wear.

If Severa were here, she might have bothered Lucina to buy it for her. She could imagine it now, how the girl would lean over the table, completely entranced as she imagined what she would look like wearing it, before she would turn to Lucina and start pestering her about it. Laurent, of course, would remind her that they had more important things to budget for, and Severa would begrudgingly agree, while Inigo would say that she looked good, even without the dress.

A quiet conversation caught her attention, and Lucina's eye roamed to the left as she watched a group of four girls almost her age giggle among themselves as they walked by. One of them stopped by the stall, her eyes caught on the very same dress Lucina was eying. As soon as Lucina noticed her shooting a glance at her, she backed away and motioned for her to take the dress. It wasn't like she had the money for the damn thing anyway.

As she watched the girls pay the merchant and leave with the dress, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Shopping in the past was fun, but she missed shopping with friends. She missed listening to how they bantered with each other as they walked from stall to stall. She even missed how Cynthia, Severa, and Owain would pester her to buy the most ridiculous things, because as pointless as they could be, they were her friends.

With her birthday in only five days, barely less than a week, she missed them more than ever. In the future, they had made their birthday celebrations one of the few things Lucina could look forward to. Without them, what light could she have, stranded far in the past?

A snapping sound broke her out of her thoughts. She blinked to find Anna standing in front of her, a frown tugging at her lips. "Hey, are you sure you're okay, bub?" she said, a hand on her hip.

Lucina quickly composed herself, letting her face return to neutral as she straightened her back and tried not to seem so melancholic. "My issues are my own. You have your own business to attend to. It's why you had me escort you here, isn't it?"

When Anna had asked Lucina to escort her to town, Lucina had assumed she would be worried about attackers or thieves. She hadn't assumed that the woman would simply have her help with something as simple as shopping.

Grasped in her hands and slung over her shoulders, Lucina held a bag of goods Anna had purchased from various stalls around town. Why Anna could not have brought Gregor to help carry them,she had these too, she had no clue, but Lucina figured that asking questions would only prolong the errand, and she wanted this over with as soon as possible.

Clearly, Anna did not understand that. Or maybe she did, and was ignoring the blatant scowl on Lucina's face. "Whatever's bugging you is clearly becoming my issue. You think it's easy to make deals when you're standing over my shoulder making a face like that?"

Lucina reached up to touch her face and frowned. She didn't feel anything different, but from the look Anna gave her, she did not think the same.

"If I'm that much of a bother, you could take Gregor with you next time," Lucina said.

"C'mon. It's no fun if I have the same person run errands for me every time. Besides," Anna shrugged, "that'd ruin the whole point of bringing you out here. You and him aren't exactly the best of buds, huh?"

Only because you pitted us against each other, Lucina thought, but kept to herself. "Why did you need to speak to me, then?" she asked.

"I'm just making sure this little issue of yours–" Anna waved a finger at her with a sideways face, "–doesn't heap any more troubles onto my plate. I already got enough to eat and I'm quite full, I don't need any more of that nonsense, ya catch my drift?"

Lucina sighed. She really would have preferred if she didn't, but... Anna was a persistent woman. Fighting it would only prove more trouble than it was worth, so as she shifted the bag on her shoulder, she said, "It's my father. He's sick, you see, and–"

"And you don't know if you'll be able to find a cure in Rosanne, is that right?" When Lucina gave her a surprised look, Anna shrugged. "What? My girls talk. You knew that when you talked to them, didn't you? You didn't think they'd just keep it between you, like two peas in a pod."

Lucina did, actually. She'd been tight-lipped as a child, though she supposed Anna was probably different. Even if she hadn't, she hadn't expected Anna to actually pay attention. Her Anna had never listened to anything she said, too busy chasing profits to work with the rest of them.

Turning away to cover her blunder, Lucina said, "You're not going to tell me to worry about myself, are you? To forget about my father?"

Anna laughed. "Oh, come on. You make me sound like a cold hearted monster."

"But are you?"

Laughing again, Anna said, "Believe it or not, I know a thing or two about how much family means. My mom was a merchant, and her mom before her. We're all merchants is what I'm saying, and you think I'd follow in their footsteps if I didn't care a little?"

"I... suppose not."

"I'm not saying forget about your papa. I'm saying, if you don't take a break, you'll drop dead before you even see a Valmese port."

Lucina's lips curled down. "Why do you care so much, anyway."

At that, Anna smiled, and she patted Lucina's shoulder. "Because my girls like you. And you know what? I like you too."

Lucina blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You're a good kid, Marth. You've got your head on straight, and that makes you good for business."

"Huh? But... I'm sorry, I'm having a little trouble grasping this. Why?"

But Anna had already turned away. "Hush!" she said, putting her hand before Lucina to stop her. "Less talking, more following. I've got something to take care of. Stay right behind me, I need to take care of something real quick."

"Huh? You need to–"

But Anna was already disappearing into the crowd, her bright red outfit the only way Lucina could keep track of her as the bustling bodies quickly moved in and out of view. Lucina cursed and adjusted her grip on the box, before she stormed after the woman.

When she caught up to her, Anna had already struck up a conversation with a fruit vendor, an arm slung over his shoulder.

"Anna, don't leave me behind. I can't keep an eye on you if you run away," Lucina said, a scowl on her lips.

Anna, of course, just waved her away. "Hey, have a little faith in me, yeah? I know what I'm doing. Now, as I was saying, how much do these apples go for, huh? Twenty gold? Thirty? Come on, name your price, I don't have all day. I've got a family to feed, you know?"

The stall owner looked like he wanted to interject, but with every price Anna named, he only shrank back. Anna could have that effect on people, especially those unused to her brash attitude.

Sighing, Lucina turned to the stall owner. "I'm sorry if we're bothering you."

"I'm not bothering him! I'm just doing business!" Anna laughed. As Lucina watched, however, she saw Anna pull away from the stall owner. "If you won't sell me the apples, what about a box of strawberries, hm? I've heard good things about your strawberries. How much for a box?"

"Anna." Lucina cleared her throat, and Anna glanced back at her. "Perhaps we should leave him alone. He doesn't seem comfortable with you." Pointing a thumb over her shoulder, she said, "I saw another fruit stand down the street, if you're so intent on buying strawberries."

Anna looked like she was going to argue. Lucina would have expected her to. After an entire day of listening to her prattle on, Lucina's patience was running thin.

Then, Anna paused, thought for a moment, and to Lucina's surprise, she nodded. "Alright. I know when I'm not getting anywhere. Where's this stall you saw?"

Before either of them could step away, the stall owner called out, "Wait!"

Lucina glanced back, confused. Anna, however, moved past her in a blur, knowing something she did not. Before she could blink, the woman had already pressed an arm to the table, looming over the stall keeper.

"You'll take it for thirty gold, then?" she said with a wide smile.

The shopkeeper glanced away. "I'll take it for a hundred?"

"Forty gold."

"Eighty?"

"Forty five. Final offer."

The stall owner frowned. "Okay. Forty five, then."

Lucina watched them exchange goods. The stall keeper had agreed to the deal, yes, but he had done so with such a downtrodden face that, as she walked away with the box of strawberries, she couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Why did you have to do that?" she said to Anna as soon as they had turned into another street.

"Do what?" Anna asked, blinking innocently.

"We should have just left him alone."

"And miss out on the strawberries?" To make a point, Anna plucked a strawberry from the box and tossed it into her mouth. "Mmm. These are good. You should really try one."

"There was another stall further down that was also selling strawberries," Lucina complained.

"Yeah, but I'm sure they wouldn't have given me them for such a low price. If you're in the business of making money, you've got to know just the right opportunities to push to get the best deals you can."

Just like she had taken the opportunity to betray them?

At that, Lucina stopped with a huff. "And would you have sold your own daughters if the opportunity arose?"

Most people would have been offended. Anna just laughed. "Concerned about my girls already? Sometimes you act more like their mom than I do. No, don't worry. I'm not heartless."

Could have fooled me, Lucina thought, keeping her words behind sealed lips.

"That's just what I like about you, though."

Lucina blinked. She tilted her head. Huh? Had she missed something?

"You're saying I'm heartless?" she asked slowly.

"No! Not at all! Quite the opposite, actually." Anna chuckled to herself, like that was a joke only she understood. Lucina regarded her with a narrowed gaze.

"You're honest, kid."

"I'm a–" Lucina frowned. "I don't follow. You're not an honest woman. No offense."

Anna shrugged, spreading her arms. "Hey. I'll admit it. I am what I am. There's no shame in it. You don't do as well in the game without keeping your words as sharp as your knives."

"Don't I know it," Lucina muttered.

"But–" Anna said, "there's a certain value to honesty. It builds trust, you know? You can't have business without trust, so trust me when I say that I know how much it can be worth than anything else. I'll admit. I ain't the best on that whole honestly front, but you–you couldn't lie your way out of an execution block. That's not a bad thing, though. You're honest, and that means I can always trust you to get the job done, can't I?"

Lucina glanced away with a narrowed look. She wanted to say no. She wanted to disagree, because the thought that Anna would come to rely on her, when she did not share the sentiment, it just felt twisted in a way. Anna had stabbed her in the back. Why couldn't she do the same?

Because her father would have turned the other cheek.

"You can," Lucina mumbled.

"That's the spirit. Hold on a second, there's somewhere I need to visit."

"Where do you need to visit?"

"Just follow me!" Anna replied helpfully, and she ran toward an apothecary stall. Lucina felt like the task would certainly be a lot easier if she wasn't trying to keep hold of all of Anna's things, but she had no choice but to swallow her complaints and try to go after her.

Anna was already deep in conversation with the stall owner when Lucina finally stumbled into view, though, perhaps conversation was the wrong word. While Anna's golden smile was still fixed to her face, the shopkeeper looked positively furious.

Can't I relate to that.

Of course, Anna would not appreciate her siding with the stall keeper, not when she looked so taken aback.

"I can assure you, that was out of my hands, hon. Nothing I could do about it."

"Maybe it wouldn't be if you hadn't been causing so much trouble for this town, huh?"

"Hey, what can I say? A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do." Anna turned around, and when she spotted Lucina, her face lit up. "Marth! Glad you could join us! Let me introduce you to my good friend, Soren, over here," she said, and she pointed to the angry man behind the stall. "He's an apothecary. Probably the best apothecary I know."

"We are not friends," the stall keeper, Soren, snarled.

Anna took the words with a grin, and she said, "Not without money, we aren't." She reached to her side for her purse, and she counted the coins inside. "Say, how much do a box of concoctions go for?"

"I'm not selling you one bottle until you pay me what you owe."

Funnily enough, that was the first time Lucina saw the smile slip from Anna's face. "Oh. That leaves us two hundred sixty short, huh? That's a shame." She threw a quick look at the stall keeper, but the man's face remained impassive.
"You have more gold back in the wagon, don't you?" Lucina piped up.

"Yeah, but I've got Gregor packing the wagon. It'll be a pain if we need to take the time to return here as we leave." Eying the shopkeeper, Anna grinned and said, "Say, you wouldn't mind if we took in now and paid you later?"

The stall keeper scowled. "Just like last time? No thank you."

Lucina looked at Anna. Then, she looked at Soren. Neither one of them seemed like they were going to back down.

The sight triggered a memory of hers–a memory of the future. Her friends, as close knit as they were, still fought from time to time. Sometimes, Owain would suggest one thing, and Gerome would suggest another, and Nah would tell them they couldn't do both. When the Shepherds were still alive, they said her father would always resolve their disputes.

With him gone, that left the task of mediator to Lucina.

"Why won't you sell to her?" she asked, stepping in.

The shopkeeper's eyes snapped to Lucina. "The last time she was here, I sold her a box of vulneraries, and she skipped town before paying me back."

When Lucina glanced to Anna for confirmation, she made no motion to disagree. For all her dirty tricks, leaving without paying was something that Lucina was not entirely surprised by it. Still, it seemed remarkably pointless, even for her, so perhaps Lucina could not fault her entirely for it.

"What about a favor, then?" she said, and she motioned to Anna. "In addition to the payment you will receive, we could also take an item off your hands that you have difficulty selling, and sell it in your place. We'd return any gold we make from it to your hands."

The stall keeper's eyes narrowed. "And how do I know you won't spend the gold yourself?"

"I'll keep the gold to myself. I've not much use for money, save for keeping myself alive. This sword is the only thing I own."

"It's true," Anna added. "She's poor and she doesn't care."

"I'll send the money by post as soon as possible. That is, assuming you have anything you'd like her to sell for you."

The shopkeeper's brows pulled down. He appeared to debate to himself for a moment. To be fair to him, it was probably a strange business arrangement. Lucina had little knowledge about how the market worked, what with most of it destroyed by the Risen. She could only hope that her reasoning was sound enough, and after a moment, the shopkeeper sighed and pulled out a box from beneath the counter.

"I have a box of stomach tonic that people have been unwilling to buy," he said. "It contains an unusual recipe, and the people are not quite willing to trust it just yet, but perhaps you lot may have better luck convincing people of it's worth."

"You have my thanks," Lucina said, but when she reached for the box, the shopkeeper pulled it away.

"Return with the payment in fifteen minutes, or I'll tell the guards to never allow you in this town again," the shopkeeper said.

It was a fair trade, Lucina supposed, so she shrugged and took the box of stomach tonic in her hands as Anna did the same with the concoctions.

"What did I say?" Anna said to her as they walked away from the stall, placing the box of concoctions in Lucina's hands. "You've got an earnest air to you, kid. People trust that. In business, that kind of trust works wonders."

When Lucina huffed, she said, "What? Don't believe me?"

"It's not that I don't believe you," Lucina said.

"Well, my girls trust you, don't they?" Anna pointed behind her, where Lucina recalled they had come from. "They wouldn't listen to Gregor telling them to get to work, would they?"

Lucina glanced away. "I suppose not."

"People like you, kid. You're a likable kid. You have any friends? I'm sure they'll tell you the same thing."

"I do," Lucina said, quietly.

It was just that she could not see any of them for who knew how long. Perhaps even for the rest of her life.

"Hey, lighten up! There's one last stop I've got to make before we go back. I know how much you've hated coming with me, but it's almost over, and isn't that a relief?"

It was much more of a relief that Anna pulled her away from her line of thought, and Lucina was more than happy to follow her to their final destination.

From the weapons laid out on the table, Lucina could tell it was a blacksmith stand. The boy standing behind the table smeared with ash certainly helped to reinforce the image. As they approached, Anna leaned over to her.

"You don't mind helping me out here one more time, do you?" she said. "It'll be much faster if you do, I promise."

Lucina shot a glare over at Anna. "You're the merchant. You know better than I do. What do you need my help for?"

"Oh, I know my way around people. They know that too, though. I have no doubt I'd be able to pry them open with enough time, but I'm sure you'd appreciate it if we got out of here in five minutes less, huh?"

Before Lucina could argue, the two of them stopped in front of the shopkeeper, Anna with her signature smile, Lucina with a frown she was beginning to realize she was wearing a little too often.

"Howdy, Felix! I haven't seen you in months, how's your mother been?" Anna said, waving him down. "My mother passed away yesterday," he replied.

"Oh."

That immediately killed any traces of smile on Anna's face. She opened her mouth, then closed it. It was the first time Lucina saw Anna nervous, and as Anna's eyes flicked to her, it was the first time she could recall the woman ever asking for her help.

She could have refused. She hated her guts.

But Anna did not seem to share the sentiment.

With a sigh, Lucina said, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"Are you okay?"

"I am," the shopkeeper said, looking away.

"It must be hard."

"I'll be fine." The shopkeeper raised a hand to wipe away his tears. Clearly, he was not.

Loss was a familiar thing. Like an old sock, Lucina had seen too many people left behind by their loved ones, separated by the great curtain that hung above that was death, and like and old sock, though it was familiar, it was far from comfortable. Some people handled it well. Some could take up a spear and fight, because what choice did they have?

But too often, she would meet people like the boy before her. People who moved forward, pushed by the unstoppable grind of time, but who left a trail of tears behind.

Grief was a painful thing, and she knew that more than she liked to admit.

"Would you like to take a day off?" she said softly.

The shopkeeper shook his head. "I can't. It's market day."

"Nonsense. Everyone needs to take time to grieve."

The shopkeeper threw a glance behind him, at some other place Lucina was not familiar with. "My master would not be happy. I have things to sell."

A quick look at the table below, and Lucina could tell he had not sold any weapons that day. "Your master will understand. Please, I urge you to rest. You cannot move forward, not like this." With a smile, she said, "If you need help packing up for the day, I would be more than happy to offer my assistance."

"I don't–" The shopkeeper looked at her, and when Lucina nodded, he sagged. "Okay. I'll pack up."

Between the two of them, Lucina had the things packed within three minutes. Repacking weapons in haste had always been a part of her life as a Shepherd. As soon as she loaded the last of the weapons, as the shopkeeper turned to leave, Lucina said, "Wait!"

The shopkeeper stopped. Before he could say anything, Lucina placed the box of strawberries in his hands. "Take it," she said. "It will help."

The shopkeeper's eyes swelled with tears. Wiping them away, he muttered, "Thank you. How could I ever repay such kindness?"

"There is nothing to repay."

"Actually..."

If Lucina could stab Anna there, she would have. She turned to glare at the woman, but Anna stepped forward, undeterred.

"Sorry if this isn't the best time, but do you think you could sell us a bag of second seals? Just one last thing before we go?"

"Anna," Lucina hissed, "we can't ask for that?"

But the shopkeeper had already pushed a bag into her hands. "My master would be upset if I sold nothing today. Please take it."

To Lucina's shock, Anna accepted it with a wink, emptying her purse into the shopkeeper's hands. "I know it's not much, but I really do hope the best with you, Felix," she said.

As soon as the shopkeeper was out of earshot, Lucina whirled on Anna. "You can't take advantage of people like that!" she said.

"Why not? A business opportunity is a business opportunity. Besides, do you know how much second seals are worth?" Anna motioned toward the box of concoctions in Lucina's hands and said, "I was going to sweet talk him into giving them to us for cheap anyway."

"It still feels dirty."

"There's no such thing as dirty in the world of business. Besides, you have to admit, we make a pretty great team." Clapping her hands, Anna said, "I meant it when I said I liked you, Lucina. You know how to get a job done, and that makes you worth your weight in gold. What do you say we make this arrangement of ours a little more stable, huh? You could make a lot of money working for me."

Lucina narrowed her eye. "I'm not sure how I would feel about that."

"Well, keep your mind on it. Here, maybe this will help you decide." Anna reached into her purse and pulled out a gold coin–a coin that she had somehow avoided giving to the shopkeeper a minute ago–and flicked it at Lucina's direction.

Lucina fumbled, tossing it from hand to hand before she was able to catch it out of the air. When her gaze returned to Anna, the woman winked at her. "It's a big world out there. Whatever you're looking for, having another friend to help certainly wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Lucina watched her leave in silence. She glanced down at the gold coin with a distasteful look, before she closed her hand around it and followed after Anna.

Anna certainly wasn't wrong. She could not be alone, not when she needed to save the world. Her father had his friends by his side, and with their help, he had overcome impossible odds. Her odds were twice as impossible. She could not do this alone, even with her friends gone. She had to move on, find new bonds to forge.

But Anna would not be one of them. Not again.

Chapter Text

Lucina peered at the gold coin in her fingers. She turned it one way, then the other, watching as the evening sun glinted off the edge.

Gold. The root of so many problems for so many people. Even in the future, many people had coveted it, been willing to sacrifice what little humanity they had left for it. Gold could not feed them, nor could it fend off the Risen prowling in the night, and yet there were so many who could not imagine a world where they did not need such a frivolous and pointless thing. People who had learned to be selfish, taught by the old world to be selfish, and refused to change even as the old world burned around them.

Anna had been one of those people. She had betrayed the Shepherds, sold their location to the Fell Dragon, and disappeared before the attack that had burned Castle Ylisstol to the ground.

And here Lucina was, clutching the very thing she had been exchanged for, a gift from the very woman who had made the transaction. Lucina was sure that, were this still her future, she could have found humor in such irony.

But this was not her world. This was not a people oppressed by the Fell Dragon, but by the weight of their daily lives. If she wanted to survive, she would have to take any gold she could make, no matter how it made her feel.

Besides, she thought, this is the first coin I've made since coming here. It would be a waste not to take this opportunity and use it to my advantage. Then she stopped. But what could I buy with so little money?

A new weapon was out of the question. To buy something even as weak as a dull bronze sword for a single gold coin would be laughable. Another cloak, to replace the tattered one she wore, was something she considered, but surely that would be much too expensive too. The only thing she could remember that she could reasonably buy would be candy, but what use would she have for such frivolous things?

Then again, Anna did say that she was considering giving me the job. If she does agree to hire me, perhaps there could be little harm in spending a single gold coin without consideration.

Lucina shook her head. No, she could not afford to think like that. She had a world to save. Every gold coin was valuable, and she needed to make sure not a coin was wasted.

Then, her gaze flicked to Gregor, his eyes on the gold coin she held with an unusual intensity.

"Is not every day girl turns four."

His words from so long ago echoed in her head, words that, even now, she held close to her heart.

Her birthday would be here soon. Perhaps it was pointless. Perhaps it was silly and childish, but she could not just let the day pass, could she?

Not when she would have so many more to go until the dawn of the Plegia Ylisse war would arrive.

The night was silent, save for the low crackle of fire behind her. Overhead, the moon gazed down upon her like the Fell Dragon, the sole witness to her plight.

In her hands, Lucina held a candied apple. It was a rather pitiful present, especially from her to herself, but as Lucina watched it glisten in the firelight, even she couldn't help feeling a little eager to take a bite.

It felt like something Yarne would give her, a habit he'd picked up from his father. If she closed her eyes, she could even imagine him standing right there with her, shooting nervous glances at her and the apple and chewing at his nails as his ears drooped further down by the second. She could imagine her pulling his hands away, telling him not to worry, and then he would tell her to try it, to just get it over with. She would try it, and when he asked her if it was any good, no matter how good it tasted, she would tell him that it was the tastiest apple she had eaten that day, because she knew how much it mattered to him.

Gods, she wished he was with her now. She wished any of her friends were with her now. Yarne, Severa, Laurent–she would even take Morgan, if it meant she would not have to face the Fell Dragon alone.

"Happy birthday, Lucina," she whispered in their place. Silently, she wished that they would appear before her right now.

No, I can't think like that, Lucina thought, squeezing her eyes tighter. She clenched her hands until they hurt, until her thoughts melted back into the darkness.

I cannot fail my mission, even if I am the only one who can carry it out. I will be fine on my own.

As the present finally managed to reel her back in, Lucina slowly began to peel the paper wrapping from the candy apple.

Yes. I will be fine on my own, she thought. I can take care of myself. I am Lucina, the daughter of Chrom. I faced down the Fell Dragon and lived. I survived through the end of the world. If the Fell Dragon couldn't stop me, who can?

The pegasus knight captain had, descending from the sky like a rabid wyvern. Gregor had, with the skill of a man who knew the weight and the steel of his sword like an old friend. They had not seen the horrors she had, and yet they had defeated her easily.

She would not be fine. She had no friends, no Falchion to save her. After all she had lived through, all the battles she had survived, she would not win this.

Lucina took a bite. The apple crunched between her teeth, sugary and tart, and as the juices spilled out and evaporated onto the ground, so too did what little hope she had left.

Anna watched Marth sit by the dying fire from the safety of her bed roll. Another crackle, another burst of embers spilling out into the air, and as the flames crawled lower, Marth pushed herself from her seat to fetch more wood.

As she did, Anna couldn't help but notice how tired she looked.

And who wouldn't? She was all alone on her birthday. No cake, no presents, and no one to celebrate with. Anna couldn't imagine how horrible that must have felt. Every time her family had celebrate her birthday, her mother and her sisters had always made sure to buy her presents and make her feel special.

Anna knew Marth was not her friend. Heck, she probably didn't even like her mother. But Marth had been kind to her. She had soothed her fears and stayed with her in the night. That made her a good person in Anna's eyes. She didn't deserve to celebrate her birthday like this, all by herself.

Morning could not come soon enough. Anna listened to the faint crackle of the fire, and the soft sound of Marth's footsteps made on the grass as she came back, hurling more logs to feed the flames. It was enough to keep her awake.

What could she get Marth, though? Marth was a grown-up. If it were her sisters, she could buy them candy or dolls, and they would be happy, but her mother had always said knowing what a customer was important when it came to making a trade, and something like that would surely not please her.

A heal staff, maybe? Marth knew how to use one, from what her sisters had told her. But a heal staff couldn't be used on yourself, so it wouldn't help much.

Maybe she could give her something that would help her to stay awake? Mama sometimes drank tea to keep sleep away, but whenever Anna drank tea, she always felt tired. She didn't know if Marth was more like her or her mother, so maybe that wouldn't do either.

Sighing, Anna laid back and looked up at the stars, trying to ignore how much the dancing shadows at the edge of the firelight looked so much like people.

"Is something the matter?" she heard Marth call.

Anna shook her head. When Marth didn't reply, she remember that Marth probably couldn't see her all the way over there, so she added, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

Silence. Then, Marth said, "Do you know what helps me sleep when I'm tired?"

Anna looked over at Marth. "What do you do?"

"I think of all the things I want to do tomorrow. With the day at an end, I know I cannot do any of those things today, but tomorrow? I can hold out hope that I will have the time then."

"Really?" Marth nodded. "Does it really help?"

"Not always. But it makes tomorrow come faster. It gives me hope that tomorrow will be a brighter day."

Anna huffed. "I wish I never have to see those bandits again."

"I do too." Marth raised a hand and smiled. "I'll make sure of it."

Anna smiled back. She fell back into her bed roll, and as she looked up at the stars again, feeling the warmth of her covers surrounding her, an idea came to her.

"Wakey wakey girls! Another day, another opportunity!"

Lucina tore her eye from the dying embers and back to Anna, loudly clanging a pair of pots together. On any other day, it would have annoyed her. Now, she just didn't have the energy for it.

They had passed a river a few miles back. Anna had told her before that she had intended to take her daughters there for a bath the next morning. "Kicking the day off warmed up and dust free!" she'd said. As Lucina watched the woman peel her daughters from their sleeping rolls and herd them together, it looked like she would do just that. She saw Sleepy Anna give her a strange look, but before she could question it, Anna lead her down the road, and she and the rest of the Annas walked out of sight.

And the day moved on, forcing Lucina to move with it. The Anna Lucina knew liked to be efficient, never wasting a second for anything that couldn't net her a profit. She also knew that, from the week's she'd already spent working for her, by the time Anna got back, she would be expecting breakfast.

That left it on Lucina's shoulders to go find it from the wagon.

Anna had bought a bag of rolls from the last town. They had left it a few days ago, so it wasn't likely to be stale just yet. Lucina found that easily enough, alongside a bag of dried peaches. Lucina took that with her back to the firepit, and, drawing a knife from the wagon, she began to cut the peaches into easier to chew portions against the stones around what was left of the fire.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gregor approach. Asleep last night when he was supposed to be helping her keep watch, but not everyone could stay up as late as she, so she would let it slide. She wasn't happy about it, but she would let it slide.

"I have no need for help right now," Lucina said. "I can prepare breakfast for a group of seven on my own easily enough."

Gregor laughed. "That is good! That is very good! Breakfast is important to prepare, no? Gregor thinks it is very good Marth can take care of breakfast."

Lucina frowned when he didn't add anything. She thought for a moment, before she took a shot in the dark and said, "If you would like meat, you are more than welcome to hunt for it on your own."

"Oh, no, Gregor is very much fine without meat." He flexed his arm. "He is already plenty big and strong, no need for more muscle."

"Was there something else you wished to say?"

This seemed to dampen the grin on his face somewhat. Gregor looked away, hummed, and scratched his head. "How does he say this? Gregor wants fight."

Lucina raised an eyebrow. "A fight? This early in the morning?"

"Yes. Fighting is good in morning. Wakes Gregor up." Gregor stretched his arms over his head and drew his sword. "Him and Marth, their fight did not end. Not with honor. Fight ends today. Unless, of course, Marth wishes to let him win?"

"Okay."

Gregor blinked. "What?"

"I said okay." Lucina returned to cutting the peaches. She was too tired to put up a fight, and she knew it. She wasn't about to test that, not if it was ultimately pointless, and not after last night.

Gregor went silent. For a moment, Lucina hoped he'd moved away. If he wasn't going to help, then she was not in any hurry to have him around.

Then, he said, "Gregor did not expect Marth to give up job so easily."

Lucina stopped. She glanced over her shoulder. "Pardon?"

Gregor made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Gregor fight for job. Marth give job to Gregor."

"Wait a minute. I never said that."

"Then you fight Gregor?"

Lucina didn't want to. She really didn't want to. Gregor was more skilled. She could lose this, and if she did? What little hope she might have might disappear.

But she needed this job too. Anna had said she would take her to Ferox. Lucina did not fancy her chances out in the wild without her.

Lucina's frown returned in full force. She let the knife drop beside the fire, and as she moved away, she said, "I have no choice, do I?"

"Marth has choice. Be coward, or fight."

Lucina drew her sword. "Then I shall fight."

"No tricks this time. Only sword."

Lucina swallowed. "Only sword."

Overhead, the sun crawled higher in the sky. Their shadows grew smaller with each passing second. Lucina held her guard high, trying not to let her sword shake in her hand.

Gregor was everything she was not. Confident, assured in his victory. His sword held steady, ready for anything she could do.

That was why she had to make the first move.

Lucina's sword crashed against Gregor's. Even without sleep, her running start forced him back a step. He pushed his sword back and forced her away. Drawing his sword back, Gregor stepped forward to take his own swing.

His mistake. Lucina rushed him again. She raised her sword, and his swing turned into a block. Sparks spattered out between the blades. Gregor took another step back. Lucina followed. Her sword was up before his, and she thrust out.

Her blade would have nicked the side of his face, had his sword not been there to intercept. Her sword slid against his with a screech. Gregor danced away and pulled back for a lunge of his own.

Lucina let her sword carry her forward, spun around, and smashed her blade into his before he could even take a single step forward. He staggered away, and his back slammed into a tree.

Just like last time, every swing she took forced his back foot. Every move she made was to her advantage. He could not attack, not when she was pressing her own offensive. And she would not let him. Risen or human, their defenses would break eventually.

And just like last time, when her sword crashed against the base of his blade, she saw his wrist tense. She knew before he moved that he would try to drive her blade into the ground. And what choice did she have but to let him? She had struck with too much force to withdraw.

The tip of her sword buried into the dirt. Gregor's boot stomped down on it before she could draw it away. His sword drew back.

She was going to lose. Just like last time. Just like she would lose every battle after if she could not beat this.

Lucina grit her teeth. No. She would not lose this. She could not lose this. If she did, what would become of the future? Her father's future?

She knew it was hopeless to believe that she stood a chance. But when had it not?

Lucina roared, and with energy she did not realize she had before, she released her sword and charged. Gregor's eyes widened. That was the last thing she saw before her shoulder buried into his gut. He gasped in pain and staggered to the side of the tree.

He turned back around and froze. When his eyes inched down, he found the tip of Lucina's sword resting against his neck.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling her sword away. She let her sword slide back into her belt and turned away. "It has to be this way."

Behind her, she heard Gregor stumble to his feet. "No. We fight again!"

Lucina stopped and glanced back. "Another fight?" she asked.

"Yes. Marth must fight Gregor again."

That caught Lucina off guard. She hadn't been prepared to fight again. Already she could feel the surge of energy begin to dwindle. She wasn't sure if she could win another fight.

And why did he want to fight again? Was there something she had missed? Did the shoulder attack count as cheating?

Nervously, she fell back into her fighting stance. "Okay," she said, "but–"

She never had the chance to finish her sentence, not before Gregor's sword came whistling down onto her own. She twisted his sword away and knocked him back with the hilt of her blade. Gregor scowled and pulled back for another attack.

That was all Lucina needed to seize the momentum. She swung wildly, blindly. Against anyone else, it would have earned her a swift death. But against Gregor, he was helpless to do anything but retreat.

It was over by the fifth swing. Lucina crashed into his sword, and under her weight, it slipped free and clattered to the floor, leaving him defenseless.

"Another!" Gregor said, and he picked it right back up.

He didn't even give time for her to protest before he was on her. Slashing, lunging, and cutting, Lucina suddenly found herself staggering away from him. For once, she was on the defense, ducking under every swing and scrambling back from every thrust.

An opening. She needed an opening. She wasn't stupid enough to try to interrupt an opponent's attack with her own, but tiredness slowed her reflexes like swimming through mud. Every time her mind registered his finished attack, he would begin a new one. She couldn't keep up. Not like this. She was throwing herself aside, blindly oping she wouldn't be hit, but how long could it last?

Then her foot caught on a root. A root from a tree she hadn't noticed behind her. Lucina crashed into the dirt. Gregor stepped after her, raising his sword to strike.

Lucina rolled away. Splinters rained down on her. She glanced up. Gregor's sword was stuck in the tree above her.

This was her chance. Maybe her only chance to win.

Lucina slammed her foot into his chest. As he staggered away, gasping for breath, she drew her sword and charged.

One hit, and she could disarm him. One hit, and she could win.

And she stopped.

For a moment, she was back in Ylisstol, watching the bright green tapestries burn around her. The birdsong was drowned by the wails of the dead and the damned crashing against her ears like waves against the bay, the sky was drenched in the rancid purple of Risen bile, and Gregor stood before her, a rusty sword impaled through his chest.

Pain exploded from her stomach and shattered her memory into a thousand shards around her. Lucina stumbled back with a grunt. A force slammed down on her sword, and with a twist, it was wrenched out of her grasp.

Lucina blinked away the last shreds of her memory. Her own blue eye stared back, reflected off the edge of a sword.

Over her, Gregor smirked. "Marth yields."

Lucina glanced over at her sword, laid in the dirt road a few feet away. She glanced back to him. Her shoulders slumped, and with a tired sigh, she said, "I yield."

"Hah!" Gregor pulled his sword away and sheathed it. "Then it is settled. Marth still has much to learn."

And that was that, wasn't it? Just another loss for her, one of many in what was quickly becoming a hopeless struggle to change the past. Slowly, Lucina reached for her sword on the ground, and she made to place it back in her belt.

Then she stopped.

Except... it isn't.

Lucina gazed down at her reflection. The moment Gregor had put her on the back foot, she had lost, but... she had still beaten him twice before.

She had no friends. She had no chance of defeating Grima by herself. But what else could she do? What choice did she have?

If she lost, her father would die. She would throw herself into a hopeless battle before she would ever let that happen.

She could not win, not in such a hopeless battle. But she would not lose. She refused to accept it. Not to the Fell Dragon, and certainly not to Gregor.

"No," she said. "No, I don't."

Gregor froze. "What?"

"I don't have anything to learn from you," Lucina said, and she spun around and jabbed a finger at his chest. "You're young. You're inexperienced. You're foolish."

He was everything her Gregor was not.

"Marth thinks that makes her better?" Gregor scoffed. "Gregor is stronger. He has more skill. He has worked for longer with Anna."

"That means nothing to the cruel reality of the battlefield." Lucina flung her sword out and peeled her lips back in a scowl. "I challenge you to one last duel, for everything on the line!"

Lucina had been wrong about him. He was no stranger–he was someone wearing the face of a man she had cared for who spat in the face of everything he had stood for. She didn't know what made her more angry; his mockery of a smile, or his bastardization of a stance.

Either way, when her sword met his for the fourth time, she made sure he knew exactly how she felt.

Her first strike echoed in the empty woods. In the distance, a flock of ravens took to the air with a clamor. Her second strike sent him staggering back. Gregor swung out wildly, trying to create more space between them. Lucina let him. She pulled back her arm, stepped forward, and swung up.

Her sword ground against the flat of his blade with such force, sparks scattered into the dirt below. His blade flew out of his hands, up into the air, and toward one of Anna's daughters just as she was entering the clearing.

Anna yelped, throwing herself to the side as the blade clattered against the ground. As she did, she tripped over a root–the same one Lucina had tripped over before–and fell face first into the ground.

Lucina cursed. She immediately abandoned her own fight and rushed to Anna's side. When she lifted her off the ground, her fingers brushed against something wet. A trickle of blood ran down the side of the girl's face.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

The girl nodded, then winced. Lucina shot a glare back at Gregor, slowly picking himself off the ground. When he looked at her, he was no longer smiling.

Lucina looked away, a frown on her face. "Our fight is finished," she said to the ground. "I'm getting Anna, and we are leaving."

Anna huffed, dangling her legs over the side of the wagon as she clutched the bandage at the side of her head, waiting for Marth to return with her family.

It had already been a minute, and she was still not back. To Anna, it had felt like such a long time doing nothing. Gregor had left too, telling her that he needed to go find something for breakfast, leaving Anna by herself.

She wished she hadn't, because now she was stuck here, and she was bored. She could have tried to go back to the river to find Marth. She'd already been there before, so it wouldn't be too hard.

But since Marth wasn't here, it gave her the perfect chance to try to find her a present. Turning around, she dug through the wagon, and pulled out her sister's stuffed bear.

She couldn't always stay up late to be with Marth. Even if she didn't want to sleep, she still got tired, and when that happened, did Marth get lonely? If she had this bear with her, maybe she would be less lonely.

Besides, they went to Ylisstol a lot, so the next time they went there, she could always buy her sister another, and this was the only thing her mother would let her give away for free, so it wasn't like she had much of a choice.

As she looked over the bear, she heard the leaves rustle behind the wagon. She glanced over the side of the wagon, expecting a wolf or a bear. Or maybe it was Marth, walking through the forest for a shortcut.

Instead, it was someone much worse.

She could not forget those purple shoulder pads, or that bald head.

Her brain kicked in a second later, and she ducked behind a bag of staves before Vincent and his men stepped into view.

"The seller's wagon? That means we'd be getting close," she heard Vincent sneer. "Justice is so close, I thinks I can taste it."

"But there's no one here, boss," one of the bandits replied.

"Is there? I didn't notice. It's almost like I can see too!" A loud smack reached her ears, and Anna winced. "She ain't here, but she'd be nearby. Fan out, and if you find her, bring her to me! I want to saw off every one of her fingers and feed them to her one by one."

"And what about the wagon, boss?"

"What do you think? Let's leave all these goodies to themselves for the vultures to pick clean."

"Why can't we just take them for ourselves, boss?"

Another smack. "Like I didn't think of that. Get moving, you lot, before I cut off your arms too!"

Anna heard footsteps approach. She heard them, but it wasn't until the wagon shook that she realized she was in danger. Anna almost gasped before her hands flew to her mouth. She grabbed the nearest thing she could get her hands on–a vulnerary jug–and threw herself into the trees just before a pair of hands reached into the wagon and landed where she had been moments earlier.

From her hiding place, Anna watched as the bandits stomped around camp. There were five of them, all big, towering, mean men. All of them could break her arms with a look, and standing at the front, Vincent was the scariest of them all. And they were looking for Marth.

Marth is in danger! I have to warn her! she thought, ducking back into the bushes.

Anna had no doubts that Marth could fight off the bandits. After all, she had said as much. But if she didn't warn her, they might surprise her, and she didn't want that to happen. If that did...

It won't. I'll make sure of it!

Chapter Text

When Lucina stepped back into the clearing, she found it completely abandoned.

She frowned. That was strange. She was sure she had left Sleepy Anna right here. Where else could she have wandered off? And why?

Has she been kidnapped again? Was the first thought she had. Slowly, Lucina's eye narrowed, and her hand fell to the sword at her side.

"Anna!" she called, stepping further into the clearing. "Are you still here? You cannot be wandering off like this. Your mother says she will return in a few minutes."

"Well, ain't that convenient."

Her sword was drawn in an instant. Lucina spun around, and she came face to face with another man. Clad in light purple armor, his head nearly shaven, and a large steel axe in his hands–she immediately recognized him as the bandit who had kidnapped Anna before.

Vincent, if she recalled correctly.

Lucina held her sword between them and scowled. "You're the bandit from before."

"Ain't you a smart girlie?" Vincent sneered. "I feel so special you remembered me face. I can't even remember what I had for breakfast. And I sure ain't gonna remember you once I'm done with you."

Lucina swept her gaze over the trees around them. When her eye landed back on him, he showed no signs of trying to leave. If he'd kidnapped Anna again, then that would've made sense, given their last encounter.

Lucina's hands tightened around her sword. "Then I will have to ask you to leave. This camp is under my protection."

"I don't wanna do that. After all, I didn't come all the way here for nothing."

He had followed them all the way here? Lucina couldn't help but feel a little worried at that. That meant he was driven. It was always the driven ones she needed to put down. Devotion had, after all, destroyed her world.

"You're going to have to leave empty-handed. Even you must remember how things went last time. If we are to come to blows again, and you may not be so lucky."

"I think I'm already lucky enough. No brat to get in my way this time."

Lucina widened her stance. "Then I have no reason to hold my blows."

And her sword parted the air between them.

The bandit stepped back, just out of reach of the tip of her blade. Lucina drew it back and swiped again. Her blow glanced off the rocks below, missing Vincent by an inch.

If she still had Falchion, her first strike would have been fast enough to pierce him before he had the chance to run away. This steel sword felt too different. Too heavy. Just the weight of it swinging around and dragging it back was slowing her down.

As Vincent ducked away from a third slash, she bit back her frustration and pulled herself away.

Vincent's sneer widened. "Giving up already? And here I was, thinking you were some kind of stupid rich girlie."

He drew a steel axe from his belt. Its blade gleamed a killer white in the sun, almost invisible to the cloudy sky. He reared back and drove his axe downward.

The rocks beneath them split in two under the weight. Vincent ripped it away with a roar. Lucina hissed, jumping away as another slash nearly separated her shoulders. The third, she raised her sword to block. The axe smashed into her guard and nearly ripped her wrist from its socket.

This wasn't going to work. Not when they were both dragging around heavy weapons, and not when he was so clearly better at it than her. She couldn't hope to overpower him as much as he could hammer against her defenses. As Morgan would so often tell her, she needed a change of plans.

Lucina kicked a rock from the fireplace up into Vincent's face. The bandit snarled and swatted it aside. That still bought her enough time to put some more distance between them.

Last time they had fought, she had been forced to use a ladle as a weapon. If she was being honest, she would have preferred the ladle. The lighter weight would have freed her hands for movement. Now, however, she was stuck with what she had. She would have to adapt.

Lucina pulled her hands apart. Her sword pulled behind her, her hand held in front.

She could feel the sword drag her down. With only one hand, it would be harder to swing around. But she was strong enough to keep it held at eye level. That would do for now.

Vincent snarled. He stepped forward, raised his axe over his shoulder, and swung to the side. Lucina danced away. The axe buried itself halfway into a tree trunk. Lucina stepped forward, her sword drawn back to strike.

With a roar, Vincent tore the axe free. Lucina skittered back as the tip of the axe grazed her stomach.

"Stop running away!" Vincent said. "Take the hit like a man!"

"You first."

"Gah!" Vincent raised his axe over his head, lunged, and swung down. Lucina ducked to the right. The axe tore through the air next to her and smashed into the ground so hard, she could feel the force through her boots.

Dirt sprayed on Lucina's clothes as the bandit forced the ground to release his axe. He stumbled back, already rearing for another strike. Lucina stepped in to follow.

This close, her sword wouldn't be fast enough to draw back and strike. That was fine. After all, it wasn't her only option now.

Lucina smashed her elbow into Vincent's face. The bandit cried out and clutched his nose, and the weight of his axe, already pulled back so far, dragged him further away. It was that which saved his life, as Lucina followed through with an upward slash. The tip of her sword just barely missed his heart. Instead, it settled for catching on a strap on his armor, severing the leather in a single motion.

Vincent's back slammed into a nearby tree. He glanced between the cut strap and Lucina's sword and scowled.

Lucina flicked her sword and spread her feet into a defensive stance.

"Leave."

Vincent snarled. "I ain't leaving until I got what I came here for!"

"I told you, you're not taking anyone with you. This family is under my protection." Anna's face flashed through her mind, the firelight dancing in her red eyes as she watched the darkness, afraid.

Slowly, Vincent pushed himself off from the tree trunk. He raised his gaze to meet hers, and Lucina was startled to find so much anger burning behind his face.

"You think I'm here for them? I'm here for you."

That got her to pause. For her?

Vincent stepped forward, axe in hand. "I ain't leaving until I see your head on the ground, until I make you hurt. Until you're hurting as much as you hurt me."

Really, there was something funny about how many enemies she had made in so short a time. She had barely been in the past for a month, and already she had Emmeryn, Gregor, and now this bandit nipping at her heels. At the rate she was going, she might have to face the Grimleal nce she had somehow found a way to slight them too.

Just the thought would have frightened her, if it hadn't proved to be such a nuisance already.

I don't have time for this. Why must I waste my time on petty squabbles when I could be spending my time getting stronger and preparing for the future? she thought, clenching her teeth.

"Hurt you? I didn't even touch you," Lucina scoffed.

"You're gonna wish you did when you had the chance. I'll split your head into two halves!"

Lucina narrowed her eye, and she slowly stepped toward him. "As much as I may not like Anna, my duty is to protect her and her family. Yours will not be the blade that fails me this task."

"Is it now? I gots a few friends who don't think otherwise."

The trees rustled behind her. Like locusts, bandits emerged from the treeline, their axes glistening like stars. Lucina's teeth ground together, and she clenched her free hand into a fist as she flitted between each one. Slowly, she could feel her chances of survival drop with her heart.

She was outmatched, and unlike before, her friends were not here to save her. If she did not take her chance to escape, she would die.

And then, from the bushes, one of the bandits shoved a very familiar looking figure to the ground.

Tied up and laid out unconscious on the dirt, was Gregor.

When Vincent saw her reaction, he cackled. "One of your friends, ain't it? Don't think I didn't see you think you could run away. I ain't stupid." Vincent nodded, and one of the bandits stepped forward to press his foot against Gregor's back and raised an axe over his head. "Like I said, I ain't gonna leave empty handed. I'll have someone's head to take home, one way or another."

And now she just couldn't leave, because even if he was not her Gregor, he looked like him. Lucina could not watch him die. That was not what her father would have done, and it was not what she would do either.

So, Lucina planted her feet, raised her sword, and said, "Come on, then."

Vincent's lips peeled back, and his yellow teeth gleamed in the sunlight. "That's the spirit."

Lucina's gaze swept around her, and slowly, she realized that the other bandits had moved to surround her, encircling her and Vincent until she had nowhere left to go. No way for her to escape.

Lucina stepped to the left. Vincent did too. Step by step, they walked around the hastily made ring, surrounded by bandits hurling insults everywhere she turned.

"You're gonna get what's coming to you, girl!" a bandit hissed.

"Make a pretty pattern if you're gonna bleed out on the floor!" another screamed.

Someone leaned out and spat at her face. Lucina scowled and raised a hand to her face to shield her eyes. When she lowered them, Vincent's blade was only inches from her face.

Lucina ducked back. The axe followed. Lucina thrust out her hand and caught it by the flat with the palm of her hand. A shove was all it took to drive the heavy blade into the ground beside her.

Vincent was a savage man. A bandit and a scoundrel, he was clearly a man of very little law and very little morals. The way he fought was wild, every blow aimed to kill her without any thought in technique or efficiency. But he was not stupid. Before Lucina could counter, he jumped over and kicked her in the face.

Lucina staggered back. Her back slammed into another bandit. The bandit sneered and shoved her back, sending her tumbling to the ground. Lucina grit her teeth and steadied herself.

Vincent was already pulling back his arm for another attack. With a roar, he swung his axe across in a way that would have split her in two. Lucina could not back away. She could not avoid this.

Lucina grasped her sword with both hands and raised her sword to block. The axe smashed against her blade and twisted her hands. The sword wrenched out of her hands. Lucina tumbled to the ground.

"Don't you know? Girls shouldn't play with swords," Vincent said, and he raised his axe over his head. "Where are you gonna run now?"

Lucina clenched at the dirt and scowled. "From you? Hardly."

"Stupid to the end. We'll see how smart you are when your brain is spilled over the floor!"

Then Lucina hurled dirt into his eyes. Vincent, startled, let his axe drag him back, and he fell to the ground.

It was a dirty trick. Her father would have been displeased. But if Vincent got to fight dirty, she would too, and as he stumbled away, Lucina buried her fist into his gut.

Vincent gasped. His axe clattered to the ground. He stepped back to give himself distance, but Lucina refused to give him any space. She tore her sword out of the ground, and she swung at him.

With no weapon to block with, Vincent jumped back. Lucina followed and reversed her swing. Vincent stepped back again. His back slammed into another bandit, who shoved him forward.

Lucina felt her lips twitch up. "That's the thing. If I can't run, you can't either."

"Well," Vincent said, pushing himself off the ground, "who needs to run when you have friends?"

A part of Lucina could have laughed at the bitter irony of it as the other bandits suddenly rushed in and pinned her to the ground. As it was, she could not utter a single noise with her face pressed to the dirt.

"You're a smart girl," Vincent said over her. "Like a rat. I hate rats. You can't crush them because they think they're too smart." He raised his axe and grinned. "I shouldn't have tried to fight you. I gotta trap you like the rat you are."

Whatever response Lucina tried to muster was muffled by the dirt. Vincent's axe shone with a deadly gleam as his arms tensed.

To her right, Lucina saw Gregor stir. Slowly, at first, before his gaze fell on Vincent, and his eyes went wide.

"You!"

Vincent stopped. He glanced over at Gregor with a scowl. "Don't interrupt me, little man. I'll kill you later."

"You do not know who Gregor is?"

"If I was, I would know."

Then the axe came down. Lucina's arm snapped in half, and she bit back a scream. Vincent growled, and he lifted the handle off her.

"Dammit. I missed." He raised his axe again.

"You killed him! You killed Gregor!" Gregor roared. He thrashed furiously in the grip of the bandit holding him, and when he slammed the back of his head into the bandit's face, the bandit yelled and thrust him into the floor. Vincent only had time to let out a startled grunt before Gregor tackled him.

Nearby, Anna's wagon went up in a plume of fire, spitting shrapnel and embers over the floor. Bandits screamed, awash in the burning lashes, and as bodies flew in the air, Lucina scrambled to her feet.

Her sword lay on the ground just out of reach. Bandits scurried around in a panicked mess, and as Lucina forced her way through, one of the bandits noticed her reaching for her sword.

"Not so fast!" he growled, grabbing her by her long blue hair.

Lucina yelped as he yanked her back. He reached out to grab her by the head. Lucina, though, was quick enough to jerk her head back, smashing the back of her skull into his face. The bandit cried out and clutched his nose. He had no time to see her foot shoot toward his chest.

Lucina kicked him away, using the force to drive herself forward. She leaned down, picked up her sword, and ducked an incoming swing from a nearby bandit.

She needed to find Vincent. These were not organized soldiers. They did not rally under a single banner. They were like animals, wild and untamed. But all groups of people needed order to stay together, and like animals, bandits would flock to the strongest and the smartest.

Vincent was not smart. He was proud and stupid, taking her head on just to prove that he could. He was strong.

If she killed him, the rest would bend to her will.

The bandit who had attacked her got in her way. With a vicious grin, he brandished his axe and charged.

He was not as fast as Vincent, nor as strong. Lucina blocked his strike with her sword. She twisted her wrist, and with a shove, forced him aside. The bandit stumbled, and he turned to snarl at her before another bandit took a wild swing at her and slammed him in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground

By the time they had recovered, Lucina had already disappeared.

Where could he be? she thought, weaving her way through the panicking bandits as the smell of smoke slowly seeped through the air. He was not that close to the wagon when it went off. He could not have gotten far.

As the flames around her rose higher, Lucina saw movement behind the curait of flickering heat. Bracing herself, Lucina clutched her broken arm and jumped through just in time to find Vincent engaged in a struggle with Gregor, their blades locked against each other.

Her Gregor would have had no problem overpowering such a puny bandit.

Vincent roared and shoved Gregor back. His axe drew back, and he swung it down. Gregor jumped back, then back again as Vincent reversed his swing. The axe hurled past Vincent, swung too wide, and as Vincent staggered after the weight, Gregor pulled his sword back and lunged.
"Gregor's debt will be repaid!" he yelled as he thrust his sword for Vincent's chest.

It would have worked too, a clean, killing blow straight through his ribs, had Lucina not tried the very same thing minutes ago.

Vincent let his axe clatter to the ground. He pulled back, and Gregor's sword grazed against his armor. Vincent reached out and grabbed his arm. Before Gregor could pull away, he yanked him forward, pulled back, and smashed his skull into Gregor's face.

Gregor's nose erupted in a spray of blood. His hand flew to his face, and he staggered back. Vincent was on him in an instant. The bandit slammed a fist into the side of Gregor's head, and he flew into a nearby tree. The trunk crumpled into a shower of ash grey splinters, and burning branches scattered over the floor.

Gregor groaned, and he reached for his fallen sword. Vincent's boot broke it like a twig.

"I was feeling pretty good today," Vincent sneered. " I was gonna let you live once I'd killed that pesky girl. You changed me mind."

"Then allow me to change it again!"

Vincent didn't even have time to turn around before Lucina buried her blade into his wrist.

It had been an awful swing. Had she been able to use both hands, perhaps she would have been able to swing hard enough to cut his hand clean off.

But a cut was still a cut, and as red seeped from his hand, Vincent cried in anguish and tore his hand away. His axe clattered to the floor. He looked at her, and slowly his surprise morphed into fury.

"You!"

Lucina huffed, and she raised her sword between them. "Your fight is still with me! If you're a man of your word, finish what you began."

"Maybe I will!" Vincent growled, and he charged.

Lucina swung. Vincent ducked, and her sword sailed over her. She hadn't been expecting that. It had always been her who had been the more nimble in their fights, but as Vincent swooped into her guard, she came to the startling realization that he was, in fact, smarter than he looked.

Vincent's elbow slammed into her neck. Lucina staggered away, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. As it turned out, it also became very hard to keep hold of her sword as well. Vincent reached out and pried it from her grasp without a struggle, and Lucina found herself on the back foot.

"Finish my fight?" he laughed, punching her in the nose. "There ain't no fight to begin with." His foot slammed into her chest, and Lucina slammed against what remained of the wagon. She moved to get up. He struck her again, and the back of her head smashed into the wagon again.

"Like I said, you don't fight rats." He punched her again. Blood sprayed over the ground. "You trap them." He kicked her in the stomach. "You crush them underneath your heel."

"T–then go ahead," Lucina wheezed out, reaching up to clutch her bleeding nose. "You couldn't, even if you tried."

Vincent scowled. "Shut up!" He lunged, wrapped his hand around her neck, and began to choke her.

Lucina's hand battered weakly against his face. She dug her nails into his skin, but Vincent just grinned. He would not let up. Nothing she could do could push him away, and as dark spots danced in her vision, Lucina reached down and slammed her broken elbow against the side of the wagon.

Pain shot up her elbow. The burned wood creaked and gave away. Suddenly, there was nothing to pin her to. Lucina fell to the side. As she did, she grabbed Vincent by the collar and dragged him down with her.

Right into the path of an oncoming fireball.

"Gah!" Vincent cried out, as flames splashed against the back of his head.

Standing behind him, Lucina could just barely make out Anna's daughter with her hand outstretched.

Vincent whirled around. Lucina glanced at the back of his head. The attack had barely left a mark.

It had, however, pulled his attention away for a moment. A single, vital moment.

Lucina seized Vincent's arm and shoved him away. Suddenly, she was the one pushing him down, and she grabbed a nearby splintered plank and shattered it against the side of his face.

Vincent staggered away. Lucina pulled back for another blow, but as she swung, Vincent's eyes snapped open. His hand snapped out to catch hers.

"I'll kill you!" he screamed, and he thrust her to the floor. He raised his boot to crush her head.

Another fire spell soared past his ear. "Leave her alone!" Anna cried.

Vincent's boot punched a hole through the earth next to Lucina. Lucina jumped to her feet and drove her shoulder into Vincent. He gasped for breath and scrambled to grab her. She danced out of reach. Growling, Vincent charged to grasp at her ratty brown cloak.

Anna flung another fire spell. This one glanced off Vincent's side and set a nearby tree ablaze. He flinched. Lucina lunged back in and drove the plank up his chin. Vincent's head snapped back into a fourth fire spell that washed his bald head in fire. Lucina reared back and smashed the side of the plank into his head, and finally, he collapsed like a sack of bricks against a nearby tree–the same one Anna's daughter had blasted seconds ago, Lucina noted.

He would not be there for long. Lucina plucked the nearest sword off the ground: Gregor's sword. She raced back to his side, raised her sword above her head.

"Wait!"

Lucina paused. She glanced to her right to see Anna staring at her with wide eyes.

Was something wrong? Had she missed something?

Then she looked down again, and saw Vincent sprawled helplessly on the ground.

Oh.

Lucina roared, and she plunged her sword into Vincent's uninjured arm, slicing it clean off. Vincent screamed. Lucina scowled.

"This fight is over," she said, kicking his side. "Mercy is not a kindness I can afford to many. Consider yourself fortunate that you are not among them–."

"Get away from me!" Vincent howled.

Lucina did not expect him to find one last burst of strength, not with both his arms practically useless. And yet, somehow, he did, slammed his skull into her gut. With a strangled cry, he lunged at her one last time. Lucina's only reply was to slam her boot against his chest, sending him crashing back into the tree.

What he had hoped to accomplish with that second wind, she did not know. As it turned out, she would never know, as the tree she had knocked him against, already weakened by Anna's assault, crumpled. The top half splintered off, and as Vincent let out one last scream, Lucina watched in silence as he was buried under a mess of burning branches and twigs.

Vincent's charred body collapsed onto the scorched clearing in the middle of a group of bewildered bandits. Lucina pressed her boot over the back of his head, and as she scanned the crowd gathered before her, she cleared her throat.

"Get out of here."

A few of the bandits exchanged looks. One of the bandits, a young man with slick red hair, stepped forward.

"But there's only one of you! We don't have to listen to what you says! It's basic math!"

Lucina shrugged as well as she could with a broken arm. "That is true."

"Then let's get her!"

Lucina narrowed her eyes.

"Does this mean you want to lead them against me?" Lucina said, nudging Vincent's body with her foot. "Like he had?"

The bandit eyed her sword, then Vincent's body, and gulped.

"I'd listen to her if I were you," came a familiar voice from behind. The bandits turned around, and Lucina glanced over them to see Anna stride through them, a steel sword slung over her shoulder. She grinned as she looked around, then raised a hand to motion to the bandits.

"I'll be honest, I'm not feeling particularly nice right now," Anna said with a huff. "You burned all my wares and attacked my guards. You know who's going to have to pay for that? It ain't gonna be you guys, that's for sure. Naga, I'm sure y'all don't even have ten gold coins between you. I'd just kill you all to be done with it."

Around her, the bandits murmured nervously. Lucina glanced at her as well. Her Anna had been a fearsome warrior, so she had no doubts this Anna would be the same, but...

"But, Marth here is kinder than I am. She says you can go, and who am I to deny her request?"

When the bandits hesitated, her grin dropped. "Well, what are you waiting for? Out, all of you!"

A few of the bandits yelped in surprise, and like ducks in a pond, they disappeared back into the woods. Anna sighed the moment they were gone. She ran the tip of her sword through the dirt, before giving Lucina a look.

"Did you have to make such a big mess while I was away?"

"I–" Lucina turned to find Anna's daughter, and she glanced back to see her wilt. "Things got out of hand," she said. "I did not mean to ruin your wares. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It ain't your fault. The most you've done is given me a call to the guild that they won't like." She paused. "That, and a day's walk to the next town."

"I see."

"I've got the other girls hiding by the river. They should be far enough to avoid any trouble." Nudging Lucina with her elbow, she grinned and said, "Hey, what do you say I fetch them, you and Anna pick up Gregor, and we can be on our merry way?"

Lucina sighed. "I'll get to it."

"Don't be like that. We've got plenty of road left 'till Ferox! The sooner we can put all this behind us, the better off we'll be."

As Lucina watched her dance away, she spared a glance back to the road behind them, to Ylisse. She wanted to agree. She truly did. But as she looked down at Vincent's body, she couldn't help but wonder if she was really leaving anything behind at all.

Chapter Text

Lucina did not know what trickery Anna had pulled to get them such nice rooms. Even in her future, when she had been Exalt, the people were often too wary to let them stay for too long, and yet when she entered the inn with Anna's daughters just a minute after the woman herself, and the innkeeper greeted them like old friends, Lucina couldn't help but feel a bit stumped as to how one woman could have so much power.

No matter which Anna it was, she always seemed to find ways to slither her way into people's good graces.

Lucina frowned as she laid in an, admittedly comfortable, bed, and as she watched Anna raise her mend staff over her broken arm, she couldn't help but wonder what was it about her that allowed her to sway other people so easily. Perhaps she was biased because of what her Anna had done–okay, she was certainly biased because of her Anna–but surely she was not the only one who knew of the woman's slippery reputation. Secretive they may be, but Anna and her family got around a lot. How could anyone trust a word the woman said?

Slowly, the blue light faded from the mend staff, and Anna pulled away with a grin. "There we go, good as new." She pushed herself off the chair she had been sitting on beside Lucina's bed, and she beckoned for Lucina to stand up. "Well, what are you waiting for? C'mon, give it a good swing, see if it's as well as it can be or you'll get your money back guaranteed."

Lucina paused in the middle of getting up to shoot Anna a frown. "I have not paid for anything."

"I guess that saves me the trouble of paying you back."

Sighing, Lucina rolled off the bed. She flexed her arm, and sure enough, it felt as strong and healthy as it had been before.

"It truly is incredible what a little bit of white magic can do," she mumbled, watching as she moved her fingers one by one.

Anna chuckled. "You'd know more than anyone, wouldn't you? You're pretty handy with a staff if I don't say so myself. Were you trained as a troubadour before you decided to become a mercenary?"

"You overestimate my ability. I'm afraid I'm not as proficient with staves as I seem. I can barely use a mend stave once before tiring myself out."

"But you know how to use them, don't you?" Anna flicked a finger in her direction and grinned. "That's more than most people, ain't it? Look at Gregor. You think he knows how to use a stave? That's not bad, not by a long, long shot, but he's got a more specific skill set. Is it a lot more refined than yours? Sure. But having more under your belt is never a bad thing. I mean, look at me! A fighter, a traveler, and a lover all in one."

"Oh. Thank you." Lucina rapped the side of the bed, and her gaze drifted out the window. "My mother only taught me the basics."

"Hey. If the basics are enough to get you by on your own, who needs any more? The rest will come to you with lots of practice, that's what my mama always said."

On my own? Lucina hummed, glancing down at her hands. She clenched them into fists.

"Yes, I suppose that is true," she said.

The bed creaked as Anna made to leave. "There's lunch downstairs if you want it, hon," she said with a wink. "I've got to check up on the girls, make sure they're not causing a ruckus, you know? If you need me, give me a holler."

"I have nothing to buy food with," Lucina said, pushing herself up before Anna could leave. "No money, remember?"

Anna snapped her fingers. "Right, right."

A small bag of gold plopped down on the desk next to Lucina's bed. "Get yourself a bowl of soup, and maybe something nice. A bit of gold for your troubles, since you seem to attract so much," Anna said, waving a hand behind her as she turned to leave again.

Lucina watched her go, not taking her eye off her until the door closed shut behind her. As soon as she did, her eyes fell on the bag of gold. She picked it up and shook it, listening to the coins clinking inside.

On her own. What a thought.

Time. Such a precious resource. Every second that slipped through her fingers was a second she could have spent preparing herself for the day everything would come to an end. In the past, she and her friends had recognized this. If they were not in the middle of action, they were training. If they were not training, they were resting for the next fight. Not a second went by that they did not recognize the looming threat over their heads.

And how had she spent her time in the past so far?

She had not only angered a group of bandits, but she also had Emmeryn after her head. She was wandering around, completely without direction, in the company of a woman she hated, and a man she had grown to hate.

There was a part of her that wondered what Robin was up to. He was the only one she had not disturbed with her stupid decisions, and if she had stayed, perhaps him or his mother could have helped her figure out what to do.

What would Uncle Robin do, anyway? Lucina frowned into the palm of her hand, idly tapping her spoon against the side of her wooden bowl. As she watched the carrots slosh within her soup, she noticed Scarf Anna eying her soup next to her.

"Are you going to eat that?" she asked, and she reached over to tap her spoon against Lucina's bowl.

Lucina pulled her bowl away with a sigh. "Yes, I am going to eat this."

Scarf Anna made a face. "Why?"

"Why?"

"Carrots are gross."

"That may be, but they are also good for your eyes." Lucina paused, and her hidden brand pulsed. "Or, good for my eye, I suppose."

"Cool. Do you want mine?"

Lucina glanced at Scarf Anna's half full bowl. A part of her wanted to encourage her to finish it. Naga knows how much her mother might have appreciated the gesture.

Another part of her was just really hungry.

"I don't see why not," she said, and she slid Scarf Anna's bowl next to hers.

Scarf Anna grinned. Then, she reached under the table, and pulled out two more bowls. "Thanks! Mama would be really mad if we all wasted our food."

"Hold on. I never said–"

But Scarf Anna had already leaped to her feet and raced toward the door. She might have gotten away with it too, had Anna appeared from the stairs, her hands on her hips.

"There you are!" she huffed, and she grabbed Scarf Anna by the scruff. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Where'd you go after we checked into the inn, huh?"

"What are you talking about? I've been here the whole day!" Scarf Anna groaned.

Anna blinked. She raised the girl up, frowned, then said, "Oh, yeah, I remember."

"Can I go now?"

Anna's eyes flicked over to where Lucina was still sitting at the table with her four bowls of carrots. A frown pressed into her lips, and she hummed. "Marth, you're not doing anything, are you?"

"I'm eating lunch," Lucina said, and she raised her spoon.

"Great! Get over here and help me look for her."

Lucina looked at Scarf Anna, still struggling in her mother's grasp. She sighed. "As you wish."

"Hey, if you're upset about missing out on a little food, I'll get you another bowl as soon as we get back, how's that sound? It'll give this one a little more time to finish her vegetables, too," she said, lowering Scarf Anna to the ground. The girl pouted at her mother, but she still returned to the table and continued to shovel soup into her mouth.

At that point, Lucina supposed she did not have much of a choice. Running a hand through her hair, she got to her feet and followed Anna outside.

It was surprisingly busy for a Thursday afternoon. Lucina ran her gaze over the crowd to see what the fuss was about, but as far as she could tell, everyone seemed to be mostly minding their own business. Pulling her ratty hood over her head, Lucina ducked and did her best to weave through the busy crowd as she tailed after Anna.

Up ahead, the woman cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Anna! Get over here right now, or you'll get no dessert tonight!"

Lucina eyed the people around them. No one seemed to notice. Personally, she thought there were more subtle ways to find the girl, but she supposed that wasn't Anna's style. As she watched the woman continue to shout her way through the crowd, she started to really wonder why she had agreed to travel with her to Ferox.

As they passed by a blacksmith shop, a poster hanging outside the doorway caught her eye; a poster with her face.

Oh. Right. I suppose that will happen if you slay an Exalt.

Lucina did not stay with Anna because she liked her. She hated Anna, least of all because she had proved untrustworthy in the future. And, it sure wasn't secrecy, because the woman was loud.

Now that I think about it, perhaps that is how that bandit managed to track me all the way here, she thought. Anna knows how to sell her face, and she can do it well. But... that also means finding information about her is not very difficult either, isn't it?

What was the point of traveling with her for safety if she announced every step they took down the road? Lucina could not imagine a worse waste of her time. Were she with her friends, she could have made it to Ferox in a week. Anna could not go that fast, and Lucina had to sit back and move at her pace.

It was frustrating. But Lucina was helpless to do anything about it.

"Mama!"

From the crowd, two of Anna's daughters, Bear Anna and Boot Anna, stumbled out, grinning ear to ear. Gregor appeared not too far behind them. Lucina barely had the time to move aside before Anna rushed past her.

"Anna! And... Anna. Where have you two been?" she asked, an expectant tap to her boots.

The two Annas exchanged looks. Bear Anna kicked the floor, while Boot Anna hummed and looked to the sky. "Shopping," she said.

"Shopping?"

"You told us to buy some fruit, remember?"

Anna frowned. She tapped her chin, before she said, "Yeah, I did, didn't I?" She paused. "What'd you get?"

Boot Anna held up a box of strawberries with a proud smile. Anna reached down to ruffle her red hair.

"That's a good girl. Can you give the leftover money back to mama?"

"Leftover?" Boot Anna reached up to scratch her head. "I... I think I left that behind."

Anna opened her mouth. She closed it. Lucina did not think she had seen the woman so flabbergasted before. It was odd, if not a little silly in its own way.

Someone tugged at Lucina's pants. She looked down, and found Bear Anna staring up at her quietly.

"What is it?" she asked.

Bear Anna thought about it for a second. Then, she said, "Do you have any gold?"

"Not much. Why?"

"Can I have it?"

Across from them, Boot Anna cried out, "Anna! What are you doing?!"

If Anna hadn't caught on before, she certainly did not. Looking between the two of them, she sighed and placed a hand on her hip. "Girls, I thought I taught you better than this. The least you could've done was try to hustle her when I ain't looking!"

Hearing this, Lucina rested her hand atop the pouch at her hip. "I do not believe you should be teaching children how to take money from others."

"Well, as my mama always said, all's fair in gold and war, hon. If you can't keep your purse in your pants, what chance do you have in the real world?"

Money. With Anna, it all came back to getting money. Lucina knew that was just how she was. It didn't mean she had to like it, and with a scowl, she stepped a bit further from the woman as she motioned for her daughters to come back to her side.

Truly, the sooner she could get to Ferox, the better.

"Anyway, glad to see you've all managed to get back, safe and sound. If I'd known the streets would be this busy today, I wouldn't have asked you to go buy things, but now that you four are back, do you think you can make it back to the inn?"

Boot Anna glanced at Bear Anna. She raised a finger, pointed at Bear Anna, Gregor, and her, then looked back at Anna. "Mama, there are only three of us.

"Really? Are you sure your sister didn't come with you?" The two girls shook their heads. "Well, that's just fantastic. Why don't you two head back, while Marth and I continue our search?"

After a series of "Yes mama"s, the two of them disappeared back in the crowd. Lucina glanced up at Gregor, who met her eyes with a narrow stare.

"Marth," he said.

Lucina nodded back. "Gregor." Her eye fell to his arm. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. He is."

And then, he turned to follow Anna's daughters back into the crowd. As he did, Lucina thought she could see an unspoken question behind his eyes, but he was gone before she could guess what it was.

The crowd had thinned by now. Pulling her hood over her head again, Lucina was able to catch up to Anna much easier this time.

"Anna?" she asked, as soon as she was by her side again.

Anna stopped to check inside a nearby building. "Hm?"

"Just for curiosity's sake, how much longer will it take for us to reach Ferox?"

Anna hummed, turning a gold coin over in her hand. "Between getting the insurance money and buying new wares... maybe three more weeks, if I'm lowballing it."

Which meant three more weeks wasted. Lucina turned to hide her scowl. "There has to be a faster way," she muttered under her breath.

"We could always split up."

Lucina looked back. "Pardon?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "If you want, we could search for her separately. We'd cover a lot more ground that way. You'd be back for lunch much more quickly."

"Oh." Of course, she would be talking about that. Shaking her head, Lucina asked, "Where should I search?"

"We've already looked through the marketplace. That was the first place that came to my mind, but she's been acting weird for a while, so she's not here." Anna tapped a finger against her chin, before her eyes lit up. "Hey, why don't I check the east gate, and you check the west one? We'll work our way back toward the town square from there. That way, we'll be sure to find her!"

Lucina shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Of course," Anna said, pointing both fingers at her. "I'll be counting on you, yeah? I'm sure you won't let me down!"

And the woman was off like a rabbit, scurrying into the crowd before Lucina could get a word in otherwise. As she watched Anna disappear into the crowd, she couldn't stop the irritated feeling welling up in the pit of her stomach.

Three more weeks with the woman. With how poorly the woman kept track of her own children, who knows how much longer it would take?

The walk to the west side of town was longer than Lucina had thought it would be. They had come from the east side, and Lucina was sure the trek would have been the same, but the road wound and turned so many different times around houses and inns that, were it not for the afternoon sun, she would not be sure if she were still going in the right direction.

As the road bent again, Lucina had to step around a sign sticking out of a nearby tavern. As she passed it, her eye lingered on the words carved into it.

"The Stumbling Lynx Tavern." Lucina huffed. "I remember a place like this in the future."

Behind her, she heard footsteps. She looked over her shoulder, and saw a pair of pegasus knights march toward her.

Lucina turned away and cursed. She hoped that did not make her look too suspicious. Really, though, it was probably too late. Even among such a crowded street, her face was hard to miss.

The pegasus knights drew closer. Lucina pulled herself closer to the wall and braced herself.

Then, the footsteps passed her.

Confused, she looked up.

They had not even noticed her, busy talking to themselves about something. She only managed to catch the barest snippets, something about a "recall" and "the Redwind Estate", some trouble that was brewing in the capital.

The specifics went over her head. That wasn't what was important to her. Whatever it was, she was sure Emmeryn could handle it. The girl was surrounded by the Pegasus Knights, and the Royal Guard. She was a ruler loved by all, so surely she would have many loyal courtesans at her beck and call as well.

No, what had caught her ear was that the Pegasus Knights were moving, and not after her.

Perhaps the road to Ferox will be safer than I assumed, she thought, pulling her cloak closer to her face as she pressed on.

She reached the gate in a matter of minutes. She had only intended to poke her head out for a quick peek, just in case Anna's daughter had, by some chance, decided to wander out.

Lucina did not expect to find Sleepy Anna actually there. The girl had been through so much; she would have expected her to be somewhere safer, but when Lucina chanced a look outside the walls, to her surprise, she found the girl sitting on a stump next to the river outside town, a tome in her left hand.

Lucina frowned. What is she doing there?

Sleepy Anna flicked out her hand, and a fire spell danced over the water, skipped over the stones, and disappeared in a fizzle of steam.

Oh.

She approached slowly, and the foliage crunched underfoot with every step she took. Sleepy Anna turned around, and her eyes brightened the second she saw Lucina.

Lucina tried to return her smile. "I did not expect to find you so far away from the inn."

Sleepy Anna blinked. She looked around and startled, like she had just noticed she was alone. "Did everyone head to the inn without me?"

"They did."

"Oh." Sleepy Anna closed her book and frowned.

"Would you like to head back?"

Sleepy Anna hummed. Lucina followed her gaze out over the river. "Can I stay for one more minute?"

That surprised Lucina. "Why? There are bandits out there."

"I know... but I can fight them back, you know?" Sleepy Anna flicked her fingers, and a flame danced between her fingertips. "I thought it would be hard. But I beat them! Or... you beat them. But I helped!"

"You did," Lucina said, slowly nodding.

Funny how things turned out, wasn't it? Never in her life did she think she would have ever looked up to Anna, and yet right now, she couldn't help but feel a bit of admiration for her, even if she was merely a child.

She had been scared of the bandits. And yet, she had fought back. She had found courage through fighting back.

Lucina's gaze fell to her own hands. She clenched them, and as she did, she wondered if all this dancing around was for nothing. She thought she had needed to lay low until the time was right, or until her friends arrived, but really, she was just afraid she would fail.

And what if the key to overcoming that fear was staring her in the face this whole time? What if... all she had to do, was face things as they were?

Part of her felt that was too obvious to be true. But she was already headed for Ferox, wasn't she? The first stone on the path to the world's horrifying end.

Lucina gazed out into the road, and into the forest beyond. Toward the snow-white forest of Ferox.

"I've got to go," she murmured.

Sleepy Anna looked up at her, confused. "You're going back?"

"I'm going ahead," she replied. "I have spent too long here. I cannot afford to stay any longer."

She had enough to keep her alive until she reached Regna Ferox. She had a small pouch of gold Anna had paid her earlier. She had her sword. And she had the determination to see this through.

There was a tug on her sleeve. She glanced down, and Sleepy Anna gazed back with a pleading look. "Take me with you!"

"Why?"

"I want to do something! I want to help you! You helped me so much! I want to help you too! My mama won't even notice I'm gone."

Lucina lowered herself to her knees. Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, Lucina looked her in the eye and said, "My quest is not one I may share with a child. This is where we must part ways."

Sleepy Anna looked disappointed. Lucina felt a twinge of sorrow for her.

Perhaps that was what compelled her to say, "Don't worry. If you are capable of standing up to the bandits, I have no doubt that you will go far."

"I guess."

Lucina sighed. She felt guilty leaving Anna like this. The girl had relied on her keeping her safe for quite some time now. A part of her felt responsible for that, too, no matter how much she would have liked to deny that. She didn't think she could just leave things as they were.

Lucina looked to her left, then to her right. Reaching up to her shoulder, Lucina pulled her pauldron from her shoulder, and handed it to the girl.

"If you truly feel unsafe on your own, you may keep this," she said, pressing it into the girl's hand. "It may be light, but it has served to protect me in my many battles. Wear it, and you shall feel a little safer."

Anna gazed upon the gift with wide eyes. She looked at Lucina, then back at the pauldron. Slowly, the girl slipped it on, and she swung her arm to test it. "Thanks," she mumbled.

Lucina smiled, and with on last pat on the girl's shoulder, she turned away and began her drek down the road.

It was the only right choice she could have made. And yet, as much as she hated to admit it, the girl's presence, Anna's presence, had become familiar to her. She was used to having her around.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she would miss her when she reached Ferox.

Chapter Text

It felt good to be on her own for the first time in weeks. She could control how quickly she moved, she could decide where she wanted to stop, or if she wanted too at all.

Lucina had no plans to–not until the evening, that was. She was going to head from here straight to Ferox, and there was nothing that could deter her from her path. She had walked this road before, back in the past. It had looked different then; most of the trees had been stripped of their leaves, shriveled reduced to a sickly purple color by the Fell Dragon's foul gaze, and all the life had been sucked out of the dirt until there was nothing left but dust, but the way the road wound Westward was still unmistakably the same.

The sun beat down on her face. The warm, welcoming sun. Truly, she had taken the sun for granted before. In her future, the dark, rolling clouds choked the sky so thoroughly, the sun's rays could barely squeeze through to breathe life into the earth. Now that she was no longer dying of thirst, she truly could appreciate the warmth it brought her.

Though, maybe it was still a little too warm.

Frowning, Lucina stepped out of the sunlight and back under the shade of the forest. She peered through the leaves up at the sky, and at the sun beginning its descent from the top of the sky into the horizon.

She'd set out in the morning. Now, it was the afternoon. If her memory served her correctly, it would only take her three weeks to make it to the border by foot, and just a little more to find the nearest town. Nowhere close to the two weeks it would take her by wagon, but with Anna having to restock, waiting would have taken much longer, and Lucina was sure that with her pace, she could cut that time down by two and a half weeks.

Her stomach growled. Lucina grimaced and glanced down.

Though, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to break for a meal, would it?

I'm beginning to regret not getting lunch at the inn, Lucina thought, breaking away from the path to search for food.

There was a river nearby. In the future, it had been an empty riverbed, but now it bubbled with water so clean she could see the rocks at the bottom glittering in the sunlight like gemstones and the fish weaving through the flowing cracks in the ground.

Lucina grabbed a stick from the bank nearby, and she used her sword to sharpen the end into a fine point. From there, getting food was a simple matter of using her newly made spear to pluck the fish from the water and onto the shore.

In hindsight, it would have been wise for her to buy a fire tome before she had left. It would have saved her the time of trying to light it by hand, though Lucina was certain that, as she sat in the dirt rubbing a pair of sticks against each other, it wouldn't amount to too much time wasted.

"You need a hand there, miss?"

Lucina looked up. A mage stood a few feet away on the road. He smiled and tipped his blue pointed hat at her, and Lucina waved back.

"I do, actually," she replied. "You would not happen to have any Fire tomes on your person, would you?"

The mage shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I burned through the last one I had just last week. I do, however, have a Thunder tome with me."

"You do? That would be more than enough." Lucina motioned him over, and pointed toward a pile of sticks and leaves she had gathered a few feet away. "If you could light that, I would very much appreciate it."

The mage flicked out a hand, and a bristling ball of yellow burst from his fingertips, sizzling against the tinder she had set on the ground and setting it ablaze.

Lucina nodded her head back, and she set her fish over the fire to roast. To her surprise, the mage did not immediately leave, watching over her shoulder as the fire licked the fish's silver scales.

When he noticed her look, he laughed. "Would you mind terribly if I stayed?"

"Not at all," Lucina replied. "My father never turned down company, so neither shall I."

The mage hummed, and he took a seat next to her. As he did, Lucina noticed that his eyes were fixed upon her fish.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"Oh, no. Not for fish, anyway. I've just returned from the sea, actually." The mage smiled. "I've had nothing but fish to eat for days."

"It's freshwater," she said. "It'll taste different."

"I suppose so."

Suddenly, an idea struck Lucina. Turning to him, she asked, "You wouldn't happen to have any spare Thunder tomes with you, would you?"

"Why?"

"I'll be traveling alone for some time. It'd be nice to have something to light my fires with." Lucina nudged one of the fish she had over the fire. "I'll trade you a meal for a tome."

"I'm sure you need the food more than I do."

"True, but I could always catch another."

"I don't know. I've got a spare, but... it's not got much uses left."

"That's fine. I just need something to light my fires until I make it to the next town. As long as it can light enough fires to last me two and a half weeks. "

The mage paused. He gave her an odd look. "The nearest town is only a three day walk."

"It is?" Lucina frowned, her brows pulling down. "That's the first I've heard of it. Where is it?"

"Up ahead, there should be a crossroad. If you turn south, it should only be a one day journey from there by foot."

Lucina opened her mouth. "Ah. That would explain it." Flicking another twig into the fire, Lucina sighed. "That's not the direction I'm headed."

"Suit yourself. I'm headed there to meet my family."

"Your family?"

"Yes. I've not seen them since this whole war business started." The mage paused to take a look at his Thunder tome. "It's why I went out to the sea. A friend I knew was enlisted in the navy. Said he wanted me to join him as the ship's resident mage."

"Knew?"

"Yes. He was killed by a cannonball. We had to bury him beneath the waves, Naga rest his soul. His family likely knows already. Still, it would never hurt to make sure they're okay."

"I'm sorry to have brought it up," Lucina said.

"No, it's fine. It's been at the back of my mind since I returned to shore."

Sighing, the mage flipped through the pages in his tome. He didn't move when Lucina placed her hand on his shoulder, but she saw his gaze flick to her for a moment. Lucina hated times like these, times when her soldiers had lost so many, times when they looked like they could not go on. She never knew what to say or how she could make them feel better, but...

"Now is no place to let your thoughts weigh you down, soldier," she said. "You'll have time for that when you're safe at home."

The mage sniffled. He reached up and rubbed a sleeve over his eyes, before he murmured, "I suppose you're right."

"Too many have asked me to deliver their final words to their families. Do not let yourself share their fate. You have a family waiting for you. Make sure you get home safely for them."

Slowly, the mage looked up at her. He opened his mouth, then closed it, staring at her as if she had suddenly grown a pair of rabbit ears, before he said, softly, "I will."

"Good." Lucina shook his shoulder, then pushed herself to her feet and walked back into the woods.

When she returned with several more fish, the mage was gone. The fish she had left to cook had disappeared too, but cast in the flickering light of the fire, she saw a Thunder tome, its cover tattered and worn, laid on the dirt.

Lucina liked to think she had grown used to sleeping on the cold, hard ground. It was too often that the Risen would destroy a few of their bed rolls while they were traveling, forcing Lucina to give up her bed roll until they reached the next town to buy some more. She never complained–it was just a fact of their life–but that didn't mean it was comfortable.

When Lucina awoke the next morning, it was to twigs tangled in her hair and stones prodding into her back Her neck felt stiff, and her limbs ached from being pressed up against the dirt, but more rest would not get her any closer to Ferox, so she forced herself to her feet and plodded onward.

The dirt road sank ever so slightly with every step she took. Morning dew did not make the road this wet, so it was safe to assume it had rained last night. Not enough to get through the trees, or she might have been woken by it, but enough so that her boots stuck to the ground and sometimes refused to come out.

She was not the only one who had suffered; up ahead, she could see a group of brightly dressed minstrels standing around a wagon driven off the road, half of its wheels in the air, the other half sinking into the mud. A grey horse was tied to a tree nearby, giving her a sideways look as she passed by.

"Hello there," she said, raising her hand as she approached.

The minstrels all turned to look at her. The one at the front, the leader, she presumed, waved back with a sheepish smile. "Hello."

"Your wagon looks stuck."

The lead minstrel turned back to look at it, then back at her. "That's because it is."

Lucina frowned, confused. "Do you need help?"

"I think we'll be fine." One of the other minstrels frowned and elbowed the lead minstrel. The lead minstrel gave him a look, before he sighed. "Actually, do you think you could lend us a hand? We've been trying to get this stupid thing out of the mud for the past half hour, and we've got to get to the next town by tomorrow."

"It would be my pleasure." Lucina walked over to the wagon, placing her hand on top of it. "Have you tried pulling it out?"

"We tried that," the minstrel said, "but none of us are really all that strong, so we weren't able to move it an inch."

Lucina hummed. She walked around to the back of it, then motioned for the minstrel to follow. "You wouldn't happen to have a shovel, would you?"

"Why?"

Lucina pointed to the side of the wagon. "This half is buried in the dirt. We'll need to dig it out."

The minstrel's brows pulled down, and he leaned in for a closer look. "How did that happen?"

Were she Laurent, she might have been able to explain it in greater detail. Heck, even if she were someone like Morgan, she would probably be able to piece together an explanation with just one glance, but as it was, she just shrugged and said, "I would tell you if I could, but I'm sure you would appreciate it a lot more if I pulled your wagon out of the sand as soon as possible.'

"I don't know about that..." Another minstrel kicked him, and the lead minstrel scowled. "Or, we could just pull it out."

"Do you have a shovel or not?"

"I don't believe we do. My friends and I aren't much for hard labor, so we don't carry too many tools with us."

"What about a bucket? Or a box?"

One of the other minstrels stepped forward with a bucket in hand. "We've got that, since sometimes we need some vertical staging for our performances."

"Don't spoil the show, Ernest!" the lead minstrel hissed, and the other minstrel huffed.

"Well, it's not like it matters to her, does it?" With a smile, he handed the bucket to Lucina. "Sorry about Ludwig here. He's in a bit of a bind with this whole situation, and it's not put him in the best mood."

"It's fine. I'm sure I would be the same, were I in his shoes." Lucina took the bucket, and within a matter of minutes, she had scooped the dirt and mud out of the wagon.

"You wouldn't happen to have a spare rope?" she asked as she handed the bucket back to the minstrel.

"We do, actually." The minstrel reached for a nearby chest, and he pulled out a thick rope long enough to touch the ground.

Lucina waved him to the other side of the cart. "Tie that to the axel. It'll make it easier to pull down."

She watched as the minstrel did as she said, and as soon as the rope was wound around the axel, she motioned for him to step aside, and grabbed onto the rope. The wagon was heavier than Lucina expected. Perhaps it was water-logged enough to be heavier than it looked. The wet ground did her no favors, and her boots kept slipping on the floor.

"Would anyone mind giving me a hand?" she asked, looking over at the minstrels.

One of them exchanged a look with the lead minstrel, before he moved over to grab Lucina's shoulders. With the extra weight, Lucina was able to plant her feet into the ground, and she yanked the rope back with all her might. This time, the wagon creaked as it toppled toward her, slowly at first, before it crashed into the ground, splattering mud over her coat.

As she wiped the dirt from her clothes, one of the minstrels approached her. "Thank you for your help. Is there any way we can repay you?"

"As long as it's not money," the lead minstrel chimed in from behind him. "We barely have any left after our last show."

Lucina blinked. "Oh, don't worry about that. I'm content to just help out."

The minstrel in front of her frowned. "Are you sure? We could give you a ride to the nearest town."

"Oh, I'm not headed there. It's too far out of the way for where I'm headed."

"Are you sure? It's not safe, traveling alone in a place like this. I've heard talk of bandits in the area."

Bandits? Lucina wouldn't be surprised, considering her recent encounter with Vincent and his group. She would have expected them to try to hunt her down for payback, but that was the whole point of traveling alone, wasn't it? So she would be harder to track on her journey to Ferox.

"I'll be fine on my own," Lucina said, smiling.

"Well, we still owe you one," the minstrel said. "If you ever need anything from us, don't be afraid to ask."

The sun had finally begun to set when Lucina came across the crossroads. Like the mage had told her, a second road lay across the road she had been on, running from north to south. She had no interest in heading south, but Lucina couldn't help but be a little curious, and she took a glance down the road.

A man was laid out on the side of the road, clutching his stomach and groaning.

A crossroads. Fancy that.

A part of Lucina urged her to move onward. A part of her said that she had no time to be distracted with things like this.

But her father had raised her better than that, so Lucina gathered herself and moved to stand beside him.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

The wounded man shot her a glare. "What do you think?"

Lucina frowned. "Sorry. That was a stupid question." She knelt down, nodding at the hand over his stomach. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Are you a trained cleric?"

"I am." When the man gave her a surprised look, she smiled and said, "My mother was a skilled healer."

"Oh. Then by all means."

Carefully, Lucina pried the man's hand from his wound, wincing as soon as she gazed upon it. "I suppose there's not much use in asking if you can walk, either."

"They got me good," the man hissed.

Humming, Lucina swiftly gathered a pile of leaves and sticks to build the base for a small fire. Electricity crackled from her fingertips as Lucina flung the Thunder spell into the pile of twigs, and a small flame burst out from beneath. Lucina rubbed her hands, clearing the magical discharge from her palms before she looked around. A large backpack leaning against a nearby tree caught her eye.

Pointing toward it, she turned to the man and asked, "May I take your waterskin for a moment?"

The man's brows pulled down, and he craned his neck enough to follow her gaze. "Would you look at that," he mumbled. "They left my waterskin behind. Guess they aren't so clever after all."

"They?"

"Bandits. Came in, stabbed me, took all my stuff." He paused. "Most of my stuff," the man said, and he waved her aside. "Take it. It's not as if I'm in any shape to use it myself."

Since he didn't seem to mind, Lucina leaned over and untangled the waterskin from the backpack's straps. She popped open the cork and turned it over. To her disappointment, all she got for her effort was a few drops.

"There's a stream nearby. I'll head over there to refill this." Lucina pointed toward the small fire. "You stay here, okay?"

"Yeah, like I could go anywhere like this."

"I'm simply making sure you don't try anything foolish," Lucina said, before she turned and headed off the road.

She had fished in a nearby stream just yesterday, and those did not often disappear without warning. It just so happened that Lucina knew that stream continued for a bit past here, and when she stumbled upon it again, she was not surprised. Lucina filled the waterskin, plugged the cork back, and when she returned, she found the man had begun to doze off.

"Hey," she said, slapping him awake. "Stay with me."

"I wasn't sleeping," the man mumbled, and he shoved her away.

Unimpressed, Lucina examined his wound again. She reached back and tore a piece off her cloak, soaked it in the water, and cleaned the wound. As soon as she was done, she tore another piece, soaked it, and wrapped it tightly around his stomach.

"That will hold for now." She stood, thought for a moment, before she asked, "Do you think you can stand on your own?"

"Miss, what is it with you insisting that I stand on my own? You know I can't make it to the next town by myself."

Which was exactly what Lucina had been afraid of, because it was this that had got her into this whole mess. She had agreed to go with Anna on her way to Ferox, and that had brought nothing but trouble. Of course, it was just a simple one day walk from here, but with how poor her luck had been so far, Lucina wasn't willing to bet it would end there. She needed to get to Ferox as soon as possible. She could afford no distractions.

"The thing is," she mumbled, "I'm in a hurry, so... that is to say–"

"You're just going to leave me here?" the man shouted.

"No, not at all. I would never, it's simply..."

Then, an idea.

"No," Lucina said, slowly. "I have some acquaintances who will be passing through soon. They are headed in the same direction. I'm simply going to accompany you until they arrive."

The man instantly deflated. "Oh. Thank you."

Lucina set herself down next to the man, and began fiddling with her cloak. She watched as the shadows beneath them stretched on until they melted completely together, and the entire ground was cast in shade. The sun had completely disappeared behind the trees when Lucina finally heard the tell-tale sound of hooves clip-clopping over the road, the creaking of wheels, and the soft strumming of string instruments.

As soon as she saw the wagon of minstrels appear around the corner, Lucina jumped to her feet and waved to them.

"Hey!" she said, and to her relief, the wagon came to a stop beside them.

"Oh, it's you," the minstrel at the front said, narrowing his eyes. "What do you want?"

Another minstrel nudged him with a huff. "Ludwig! She helped us this morning. Be nice." To Lucina, he smiled and said, "Sorry. Is something the matter?"

"It's about that favor you owe me."

"Oh?"

Lucina nodded to the wounded man by her side. "This man needs medical attention at the next town. I would accompany him myself, but like I said before, I'm headed west. Could you take him with you?"

The minstrels exchanged a look. They quickly pulled together, whispering something among each other, before they turned away. The lead minstrel looked unhappy, but Lucina was beginning to suspect that was a normal occurance for him. The minstrel next to him stepped forward with a grin and said, "Of course! We'd be more than happy to help."

Turning to the wounded man, Lucina asked, "Are you fine with this arrangement?"

"As long as you don't keep me up all night with your singing," the wounded man huffed.

Helping him up onto the wagon was a quick matter for Lucina, and as soon as he was on, she saw off the minstrels with a wave and a smile. As she watched the wagon move down the road, growing smaller in the distance, her smile faltered.

Three times today had she been suggested that direction. Three times, she had turned them down. It was almost like fate wanted her to head toward the town. But why?

"Whatever fate wants with me, I could care less for," Lucina mumbled, turning to continue down the road. "I know my purpose here. I shall choose the path that shall take me there, not toward whichever road fate decides is best."

Chapter Text

The moon watched Lucina as she stared up at the night sky through the makeshift shelter in the forest. The twigs she had thrown together into a roof certainly had enough gaps for her peek through at the glittering stars over her, something she had little chance to see in her time, and she would never see it again if she did not stick true to her path and got away from Ylisse as fast as she could.

Fate had made it clear it wanted her to stay. First Anna, then this town; it was as if fate had plans for her, plans in motion that she had no desire to be a part of. If she didn't fight Fate's grasp tooth and nail, things would spiral out of her control, and the future would slip from her grasp.

Why am I even considering this? Lucina thought, hand falling to her face. It's not as if Fate is a living being with a will against me. If I keep to my path and press onward, I shall find a way to fix this mess I've made and maybe, find a way to save my father.

Once she arrived at Ferox and became its champion, she could secure Ferox's aid for Ylisse. Though, with Lon'qu out of the picture for now... how would she manage that? The people in the past were stronger than she expected. Her chances of winning were slim.

Lucina hummed. I suppose I'll have to become stronger than them then.

To the right, she saw one of the trees twitch left. Odd, since the wind was blowing the other way. For a moment, she considered if it had been a large animal that had moved through, but immediately dismissed the ridiculous thought. Had it been an animal, why would they have taken the care to conceal their footsteps?

Her fingers brushed against the hilt of her sword. Her eyes narrowed.

A shadow flickered across the entrance.

Lucina slipped to the side as a hand grasped for her foot. She thrust her sword out of the entrance, and she heard someone cry out. Lucina out the entrance just in time to see a man stagger away from her, clutching his arm.

They locked gazes. Even in the darkness of night, there was just enough moonlight for her to make out the man's brown eyes, narrowed as they watched each other stand between the trees.

Lucina could not afford to let him take the first move, so she moved first. Her sword darted out and nicked the bark of a nearby tree. The bandit ducked away, letting the edge of the sword scrape over his chest. He lunged at her with his knife. Lucina reached up and caught his wrist. The bandit pulled back his head to headbutt her. Lucina rammed the top of her skull into his chin, and he staggered out of her grasp.

His back slammed into a tree. Lucina raised her sword and brought it down on his chest. The bandit rolled out of the way, and her blade bit into the tree. The bandit, likely thinking she wouldn't have time to pull it free, reversed his knife and swung for her neck. That meant he wouldn't have expected her to let go of her sword entirely and slam her elbow into his own neck.

As the bandit staggered back, Lucina tore her sword free and put it between them once again. The bandit came to his senses before she could attack, and the two resumed their stand-off.

"You're quite the fighter, lady," the bandit said, flourishing his knife. "Not what I'd expected from a noble brat."

"I've not lived a very sheltered life," Lucina replied.

The bandit shrugged. "Careful that doesn't make you too cocky. One wrong move, and you'll still bleed out just the same."

"I think I can take care of myself."

The bandit smirked, before he lunged again. Lucina slipped away and cleaved through the air. The bandit ducked under her swing. He slipped up and slashed at her chest, but Lucina had already danced out of reach.

The bandit chased after her. With him so close, she had no room to swing her sword. That was fine. Lucina reached out and flung a handful of dirt into his eyes. The bandit cursed, but when Lucina tried to stab his chest, the bandit ducked behind a tree, and her attack rattled against the wood.

"Damn noble brat," the bandit hissed. "You think you're the only one of us who can fight dirty?"

No, but I'm the only one of us who has faced a hundred Risen at once, Lucina thought, though she doubted it would have gone over well with the bandit and kept it to herself. 

The bandit emerged from the other side, and he flung his arm forward. Something flashed in the moonlight. Lucina ducked to the side. A silver blur streaked past the left side of her face, and Lucina felt a blade nick her skin. She reached up under her eyepatch. Her hand came away with a trickle of blood.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bandit pull another knife out of his jacket. Mentally, she made a note to watch if he tried to throw it again. Had she been a second late, that cut could have been between her eyes instead of over her cheek.

Lucina lunged again before the bandit could. She thrust her sword where his ribs would have been, and thrust again before he could get any closer. The bandit slipped away and hurled a handful of leaves at her face. Lucina raised her hand to block it. When she lowed it, the bandit had already begun to lunge for her. Lucina stepped to the right. His knife sailed past her, but his foot lashed out and kicked her back against another tree trunk.

Clearly, he was trying to keep her on her toes. If he kept her off guard, she would have no chance to corner him. If he kept her off balance, sooner or later she would slip.

The bandit reached into his pocket. Lucina stepped to the left to dodge it. A handful of lint smacked her in the eye. Lucina cursed and stumbled back. Something sharp nicked her chin. Lucina reached out with her hand and swung. Her fist knocked into someone's face, and she heard the bandit crash into a nearby tree.

As she rubbed a sleeve over her eyes, watching the bandit pick himself off the floor, she scowled. Her hand clenched tighter on the sword. She couldn't dodge because she couldn't see where he was throwing. She couldn't attack because he would keep his distance.

She was sure he would be surprised when he found she still had a few surprises in store for him.

The darkness did much to conceal him as he moved to throw something else at her. But if she couldn't see what he was doing, neither could he. Lucina reached inside, grabbed her thunder tome, and with her sword, hurled a spell into what remained of her firepit.

With the wood still hot from the fire before, it burst into flames in an instant. At once, Lucina could see the bandit's arm pulled back, ready to throw another knife at her.

Lucina raised her hand just in time to skewer knife through her tome. Sparks expulsed from the book and bit into her arms. Her thunder tome dropped to the floor, but she had already done what she needed to do with it. She saw the bandit reach for a handful of dirt on the floor. Lucina lunged. The bandit staggered back and hurled the dirt at her. Lucina ducked under it. The dirt sailed over her head, and she caught him in a tackle and pinned him to the floor.

The bandit thrust his knife up to stab her. At this range, he would have been quicker than her. Her sword would be much too long and unwieldy to use here, and he knew it.

Lucina caught his wrist, slammed it into the floor, and skewered her sword through his arm. The bandit cried in pain. Lucina silenced him with an elbow to the face.

Lucina did not consider herself a violent or angry person. A quick death would have been more than enough for a bandit like him. But with her sword stuck in the ground, she had few other options, so she punched him again. And again.

It really shouldn't have been much, just asking things to go her way for once. She wanted to get out of Ylisse. She wanted to get away from her family. She wanted to do something right for once without throwing the whole timeline into a mess because fate just wanted her whole world to come crumbling around her.

Lucina paused. She looked down, and found the bandit's face a bloody mess and completely out cold. She winced.

Her mother would have told her such violence would have been unbecoming of a lady. Lucina was just glad no one was here to see.

Then her eyes landed on something on the floor beside her. A pendant she had knocked free while she was swinging at him. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered peering into someone else's belongings, and certainly not a bandit's belongings, but... a curious nagging tugged at the back of her mind. Slowly, she reached out, picked it up, and opened it.

Who else would she find inside but a small painting of a younger looking Gaius.

If Lucina could have asked someone to hit her, she would have.

Oh Naga. Of course this bandit has connections with Gaius. Lucina's gaze raised to the sky, and she sighed.

Now she couldn't kill him. She couldn't leave him out here, either, not with Vincent's bandits around; if she let him go here, he might find them and help them track her down. She had no other choice but to turn him in to the authorities.

The authorities in the nearest town, just one day away from here.

"If you're out there," she said to no one in particular, "I hope you're having a good laugh at this while you can. I will stop the Grimleal, and I will save my father. You may bet my life on it."

The bandit did not seem particularly happy, being lead around by the rope tied around his hands. Lucina shared that sentiment. Neither of them were happy about this, but what other choice did she have?

Choice. When was the last time I was given a real choice? Was it back when I chose to fled from my Grandfather's murder? Or was it when I left Emmeryn alone in the courtyard of Ylisstol?

Briefly, she wondered if she would have been happier, had she chosen different. It would not have been the right choice, but if it meant that she did not have to spend an entire day trudging through the forest road with a disgruntled bandit in tow.

"Lady, I haven't had a drink in half a day," the bandit mumbled. "Can we at least stop by a stream for a drink?"

Lucina frowned. "You'll get a drink once they lock you in the town jail."

"I'll be dead from thirst by then." Groaning, the bandit raised his shoulder to wipe the sweat off his neck.

Lucina glanced ahead of them, putting a hand up to shield her eyes from the setting sun as she watched the treeline to see if they had gotten any closer to the town. If she squinted really hard, she could probably convince herself that the tips of the trees in the distance were the roofs of houses, but it was not that late, and she was not that desperate. At least, she would have liked to convince herself she was not that desperate.

"You know," the bandit piped up from behind her, "If you wanted me dead, it would've been faster to just kill me last night."

"I know." And wasn't she regretting it. If she were in his shoes, Lucina would have been grateful to still be breathing, and yet he had complained every step of the way.

But her father had always said Gaius had been a rather mouthy man, so she sucked it up and kept walking.

"How long until we get there, anyway? You've been there before, haven't you? I haven't. They don't teach you this in thief school, but you never go to small towns. The security's more lax, but it's too much work for too little reward."

Lucina paused to give him a look. "Thief school?"

"Yeah. If you stole something, you had to have gone to thief school. Stealing from small places was easy, so if you did that, you got bullied by everyone else."

"That's ridiculous."

"And just what would you know about stealing things, missy?"

Motioning out toward nowhere in particular, Lucina said, "If I was desperate enough to steal, I would take whatever I could get my hands on. No amount of mockery is worth fretting my life over."

The bandit was quiet for a moment. Then, he said, "I can see how you would think that."

"I lived that."

The bandit blinked, disbelieving. "You? Stealing?"

Lucina wrinkled her nose and scowled. "I would never. But my friends and I were poor, so we took what jobs we could. No matter how mundane or filthy, a job is still a job."

"That couldn't have been pleasant."

"Life rarely is."

"You've got that right."

The two of them traveled in silence for a few minutes more. Lucina checked up ahead, but the sky seemed awfully cloudy today, and she had a difficult time making out what was in the distance. Perhaps the mage had been mistaken. Or perhaps, they had been traveling much slower than everyone else was. Either way, Lucina figured they would be here for some time, so she decided, if there was anytime to ask the question at the back of her mind, now would be it.

"You have a locket around your neck," she said, keeping her eyes ahead. "Whose picture is it?"

The bandit's eyes narrowed. "And why do you want to know?"

"He reminds me of a friend I once had. I was wondering how you knew him."

"Then you wouldn't mind sharing who their name was, would you?"

"His name was–" Lucina stopped. She narrowed her eyes. She could not go around telling this man her friend was Gaius. Considering how old Chrom was, that meant she would be at least twelve years older.

"His name was Geralt," she said, using the first name that came to mind.

"Really?"

There was something about his voice that made Lucina pause to give him a look. The bandit raised an eyebrow, and as he watched her, Lucina couldn't suppress the sinking feeling that somehow, she had made a mistake.

"I don't think I've ever had the pleasure," he said slowly.

"I see." Lucina turned away, a frown on her lips. "Perhaps it's merely coincidence, then."

The bandit, Geralt, hummed, and thankfully let the topic drop. They walked the next few miles with only the wind and the soft crunch of twigs to accompany them, before Lucina finally worked up the guts to ask, "Is that your son?"

"Son? Gods no," Geralt snorted. "He's just my brother."

"Your brother?"

"Yes. Handsome, isn't he?"

Lucina's lips quirked up. "He is. Is he doing well?"

"I hope so." When Lucina glanced back with a curious look, the bandit sighed. "Our parents are dead. He's on his own until I get back."

"Oh." Lucina looked away.

"Don't worry. The kid's a fighter. He's probably fine on his own."

But Lucina did worry, because here she was, bringing Gaius's only family to be arrested and leaving him all on his own. And perhaps that had been the idea–guilt her into letting him go so he could go steal another day–but now Lucina had to worry if she was changing the past again, and this was all getting to her head much too quickly.

If he really was Gaius's brother, she wouldn't be surprised if he could escape whatever security the town had anyway; the others had always said he had a way of getting out of sticky situations. If she could just hand him over, and he escaped on his own, it was out of her hands and a burden off her shoulders.

Then, a scent hit her nose. A familiar scent; copper.

Lucina looked to the sky again, and with a creeping sense of horror, she realized that the grey clouds above her were not clouds at all.

Lucina cursed. She broke into a sprint, dropping the rope as she did. The bandit could run, for all he wanted to.

The tipped over wagon on the side of the road was her first sign something was terribly wrong. It took her getting closer to realize that she recognized that cart.

It was the same cart that she minstrels were riding the day before. The brightly painted sides, now smeared with blood, Lucina looked around to see if there were any survivors. The minstrel leader, the wounded man; anyone.

She spotted them laid out in the grass a few feet away. She moved swiftly to see if any of them were alive, but before she approached she knew it was a fruitless effort. She could already tell they were long dead.

It was a familiar sight for her–travelers brutally murdered on Risen-infested roads–but that did not make seeing it any easier. Lucina sent a quick prayer to Naga for their safety, if Naga could hear her at all. She would have stayed to bury them, had she not heard the crackling of fire in the distance.

Lucina continued down the road, and was greeted to a village in flames. Houses completely destroyed, walls strewn with ruin and corpses. Red flowed between the cobblestone road. A blue pointed hat drifted past her in the breeze.

The fire was still hot, and still burned bright. Whoever had done this couldn't have gone far. A part of Lucina wanted to chase after them. Another part of her recognized that, if there were enough people here to not only overwhelm the town guard, but set the entire village ablaze in under a day, what chance did she have? Even she was smart enough to realize that surviving against impossible odds often meant not having to face those odds at all.

"Gods, what happened here?" she heard someone say behind her.

Lucina whirled around. She was surprised to find the bandit still behind her, eyes wide and frozen to the spot.

"Bandits." Lucina nodded inside the village. "Everything has already been looted. Any gold, weapons, instruments, gone." Her eyes narrowed, and she fixed him with a glare. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?"

The bandit, immediately sensing death hanging over him by a thread, put up his hands and said, "I had no idea any of this was happening. I swear, I work alone."

"Do you now?"

"I do! Come on, do you know how easy it is to pull off a heist with multiple people? Let me tell you, it ain't pretty."

Lucina wasn't quite sure she could count on that. But this was Gaius's brother, and perhaps it would be more trouble to not take him on his word and run him through right here, so with a huff, she let it go.

As soon as she took her eyes off him, she heard him sigh. "I don't understand how this could've happened. Reckless or not, even an idiot would know the Pegasus Knights would hunt you down for it."

"The Pegasus Knights are not coming."

The bandit looked startled at that. When he spoke again, Lucina could have sworn that his voice trembled. "What makes you so sure?"

"I saw the Pegasus Knights stationed near here depart for the capital two days ago."

"Why? The Pegasus Knights would never leave us. Stuck-up they may be, if there's one thing that's good about them, it's that they'd eat their own hearts before they abandoned us."

Scanning the debris, Lucina said, "I'm not sure. I just hope the Exalt isn't in trouble."

"What about the bandits, then?" The bandit, Geralt, Lucina had to remind herself, said, kicking aside a piece of wood as he cautiously crept after her. "To go through all this effort, they wouldn't just kill so many people for the fun of it."

"That, I do know why they may be acting this way."

"And why is that?"

Lucina turned to face Geralt. She stared at him dead on, and slowly, articulately, she said, "They're looking for me."

Chapter Text

The trickling stream nearby did little to calm Lucina's nerves, her thoughts riding upon the rippling waters like fish. They had already walked for hours since they'd stumbled upon the village, but she could still hear the flames crackling, still feel the smoke clinging to her skin.

In all likelihood, she would forget by tomorrow; it was just another village among dozens, another few hundred lives among thousands. But the feeling of dread, of the tip of a sword hanging over her head, would remain.

She had forgotten how it had felt, to know danger could be hiding behind the trees or within the soft breeze that rustled the leaves. Her muscles tensed at every movement she heard, like it could be a threat jumping out of the woods to kill her.

Frankly, she did not miss it.

"So... tough luck, huh?"

Lucina's arm tensed, reaching for her sword before she pried her fingers away and sighed. Geralt made so little noise as he walked, it was easy to forget he was there, even as he walked in front of her. One of the benefits of being a thief, she supposed.

As soon as they had left the village, she had elected to keep him with her and take him to the next town over instead. Better that than cutting him loose and hoping he did not return with the other bandits.

Though, now that they had been walking for some time, she was beginning to regret the choice because, as he had made abundantly clear by now, he liked to talk.

"The next village is only... what, five days away?" he said, watching as a sparrow passed overhead.

Lucina frowned, and she kept her eyes on the road. "We'll make it in three."

"Three, huh? What, are you just going to keep walking for two days straight?" When she didn't reply, Geralt stopped to give her a look. "You're not just going to keep walking for two days straight, are you?"

"I've done it before. You haven't?"

"No! I may be a late sleeper, but even I've got to sleep sometime."

"Then you will learn how to. Now walk." Lucina nodded forward, and the bandit sighed and continued down the road.

As he did, he missed the way Lucina slumped as exhaustion took hold of her. Just because she had gone nights without sleep did not mean she had to look forward to it. Were it not for the danger, she would have liked to take the full three days to walk, eat, and rest and keep her energy at its peak.

But that all depended on her having someone else to watch while she slept. Just because Geralt was related to Gaius did not give him her trust; Gregor had taught her that. She would not have gotten much sleep anyway, so she might as well have abandoned trying to get any at all and make it to the next village faster.

In front of her, Geralt tripped on a root. His arms strained against his restrains as he tried to catch himself. Lucina did it for him and grabbed him by the collar, before she pulled up straight.

Geralt groaned. "Don't tell me this is the sort of training they put you through in Pegasus Knight training."

"I'm not a Pegasus Knight."

"You could have fooled me. Someone taught you how to fight." Geralt hummed, and he kicked aside a twig. "You're one of the Royal Guards, then?"

"No."

"Then how'd you learn how to fight? Don't tell me you ran away from home and joined a mercenary group."

"I–" Lucina paused. She couldn't say either Pegasus Knight or Royal Guard, because if anyone bothered to check, they would know she was lying. A mercenary group, though, was harder to check. Anna could likely contest that, but she wasn't here, and by the time word reached her, Lucina would have likely found mercenary work in other places to back up her words.

"Yes," she said. "I was a mercenary for some time. I learned how to fight there."

"Wow. Your father must not be happy. If you ran away from home, I'm guessing he didn't want you to fight, right? Who cares what he thinks, anyway."

When Lucina stopped, he caught on almost immediately, stopping a few feet in front of her. He glanced back, and when he met her narrowed gaze, he was also able to catch that he had said something wrong and wilted.

"Please don't kill me," he said.

She would have expected a wittier response. It was probably what Gaius would have done, but as Lucina caught a glance of herself in the river, covered in ash and with murder in her eyes... not even Inigo would have tried to crack a joke at her, not when she looked like she would stab him for opening his mouth.

"I'm not going to kill you," she said slowly, and she raised her hands.

"You're not? Oh, that's great." The bandit chuckled, and she did not miss how his eyes flicked about. "You don't have to kill me. You don't even have to think about killing me. I'll be useful to you."

Lucina punched the bridge of her nose. "No, you don't have to. I'm not going to kill you either way."

"You're not?" Geralt blinked, then blinked again, before he asked, "Why not?"

"Because I'm taking you to Ferox. You'll be served justice there." And, she did not add, you Gaius's older brother. "Just please, stop trying to please me. You don't have to worry about me killing you."

If anything, Lucina thought as Geralt huffed and continued down the road, she was going to have to worry about being killed by him.

The orange light of the evening sun cast the trees in a rusty shade of red. Lucina was sure Inigo or Cynthia would have something dramatic to say about it. As it was, Lucina wished she'd decided to stop to pick for berries sooner, because the red light made it difficult to tell which ones were which.

For a moment, Lucina paused to check her surroundings and make sure she wasn't about to be ambushed. A breeze passed through the trees, shaking the branches and rustling the leaves, but Lucina kept her eyes on the forest even after the wind died down to make sure it was only that. Nearby, the stream they had been walking by had widened into a river. If she'd wanted to, she was sure she could have fished from there too, but she had no means to light a fire, and she wasn't sure she could avoid cutting herself if she made the attempt, so she returned to picking berries.

"You do know which ones are poisonous, right?" Geralt said from his place tied to a nearby tree.

Lucina looked back at him flatly. Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Hey, you're not the one who has to hope you're not going to be fed mistletoe berries."

"I know what I'm doing," she replied, and plucked another handful from a bush. "Do you think I've survived on my own for this long by chance?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were."

Lucina stopped to give him a look. Geralt smiled back, but it was strained. She could see the bags under his eyes. She narrowed hers.

"How so?" she asked.

Geralt nodded to the side. "Going two days without sleep isn't exactly the smartest idea."

"It's only for two days. By the time it will have taken its toll on me, we'll be safely within village walls."

"Maybe for you, but what about me?"

Lucina paused. "I'm not going to let you slip from my watch."

"Come on. This is inhumane."

"But it won't kill you. When we get to Ferox, you may sleep as much as you wish. Until then, we march."

"If we're attacked like this, you'll be too tired to defend yourself."

"At least I'll have the chance to escape. I'd rather die on my feet than fast asleep."

"I could keep watch for you." When Lucina gave him a look, the bandit shrugged. "You already know I'm not working with them. They don't seem particularly merciful, so my life is tied to yours."

With a sigh, Lucina sat down beside him. "Believe me, I would love nothing more than to trust you on that. But taking such risks have gotten better men killed."

It was how Gaius had gotten killed, anyway.

But Geralt just frowned. "Are you always this tense?"

"Please be quiet and eat," Lucina replied, and she shoved a handful of berries into his mouth. "We have another day of walking ahead of us."

Lucina let out a long breath through her nose, watching as it misted in front of her and vanished into the air as the frozen dewdrops covered everything around her in gleaming white. Despite the cold, the river beside her still went rushing by, though she could no longer see it over the cliffside that had risen out of the ground the closer they had gotten to Ferox.

Though there were clouds above them, they had not seen any snow yet, and Lucina thanked the Goddess for that. Snow would have been much harder to walk through, and would have slowed their progress significantly. Still, she couldn't help but worry that the sound of the frozen grass crunching beneath her boots would still give them away.

"It sure is cold here," Geralt mumbled from in front of her.

Lucina hummed. "Not as cold as it is in Ferox proper."

"Well, I didn't wake up yesterday thinking I'd have to make the walk all the way to Ferox. I'm not dressed for this kind of weather." Geralt let out a long breath, and the mist curled around his face. "And neither are you, aren't you?"

"Please stop complaining. This isn't going to last forever."

"It sure feels like it."

It really didn't. Ten years of living under the Fell Dragon was not forever. Two days in the cold was not forever. They would make it out of here, and then Lucina could finally get back to fixing the future.

Chuckling, Geralt said, "At this point, we might as well huddle close for body warmth, eh?"

That got Lucina to pause and process. Her brows fell, and she shot Geralt a look. "Unless you're on the verge of death, I'm not going anywhere near you."

"You really don't want to kill me that much, don't you?"

"I have my reasons."

"They must be pretty good reasons."

Lucina wasn't quite sure they were. Still, she didn't fancy risking going against them, so she said, "Just keep walking."

Geralt chuckled again. "About that... I hope you plan on making good on your promise, because I think I'm blacking out."

And with that, he collapsed into the grass. At first, Lucina was sure that it was a trick. She waited a moment for him to get up, and when he didn't, she prodded him with her sword. Still nothing.

Lucina let out a long, irritated sigh. Her father had raised her to be a girl of her word, however. so with great reluctance, she grabbed him, hoisted him over her shoulder, and continued her march through the forest.

She had only walked for five minutes more when she saw something peek out through the trees. Lucina walked a little faster, careful to keep her grip around Geralt as she did. A snowflake landed on the tip of her nose. With her arms full, however, she could not afford to reach up and brush it away, so she ignored it. She didn't need to worry, not when she was so close. The forest around her began to thin, the trees growing spare as she pressed on until, at last, she could make out the shape of a town just beyond the last few trees.

A small stone wall surrounded a cluster of buildings shimmering under a layer of frost. Though she was far, she could make out the signs of life inside, the small shapes of people moving through the streets. Above the walls, she could make out the flags of Ferox flying in the cold winter breeze. She had reached Ferox at last.

And the only thing that stood in her way were three bandits, grinning from ear to ear as they approached her with their swords drawn.

"Now what's we got here, boys?" the first bandit said, stepping to her left.

"Looks like the lady boss wants to kill, isn't it?" the second one said as he stepped towards her.

The third one slunk to her left, flashing his sword at her. "Now ain't that lucky? We was just supposed to scout out the town, and here she is right in our lap. The boss'll be happy if we give him her head for dinner tonight."

Lucina had to stop herself from clenching her fist in annoyance for the fear that she may break Geralt's wrist, but she couldn't hide all of her frustration. Of course, nothing is ever that easy, she thought.

Geralt's unconscious body thudded softly against the frozen grass behind her. Lucina reached to her side and drew her sword.

She had told Geralt she could escape should they encounter bandits. That had been dependant on two things: that Geralt had been awake enough to run with her, and that there were not enough bandits to surround her. With Falchion, she could have ended the fight in an instant. Without it, she fancied her chances a lot less.

Still, what choice did she have but to stand and fight? The bandits began to move around her. Lucina's eyes flicked to each of them, shifting her sword every time one of them seemed like they would move in for the attack. Briefly, her eyes flicked to the town ahead.

Lucina was not a tactician. She left most of that to Morgan. But it didn't take a genius like Morgan to figure out that, if she wanted to get out of this, she would have to be slippery, like she had with everything else.

Lucina shifted her sword into her right hand, and with her left, she reached into her coat and pulled out her ripped Thunder tome. It still had the massive hole in it from where Geralt had punched through it. Most mages would have discarded such an unreliable tome, but Lucina knew the tome still had a few uses left in it before all its magic would be drained, and with almost no money on her, she would have to take what she could get. The hole would make channeling it a challenge, yes, but now that she was faced with such odds, she would have to bet her life on being able to use it.

Electricity crackled around her fingers. One of the bandits noticed this. His lips peeled back, and he lunged for her. Lucina's sword came around and brushed it to the side. Lucina thrust the tome out, but it just sparked and bit into her hand. Lucina hissed, and it took all she had not to drop it there.

A second bandit rushed after her. Lucina twisted her sword around his, deflecting his clumsy thrust to her left while hurling her own forward. Her blade nicked against his cheek. The bandit howled and pulled away. A thunder spell splashed against his chest, and he howled again. Lucina cursed.

The snow had begun to fall faster now. Flakes began to build up on her eyelashes and cluttered her vision with specks of white. Lucina reached up to wipe them away. When her arm moved away, she saw the third bandit's sword sailing overhead for a strike. Lucina ducked away, and before he could pull his sword out, she slammed her boot into it.

She could have stabbed him then and there. It would have made her odds a lot better, certainly, but Lucina elected not to because it would have taken too long to draw it out from his body and block the first bandit coming back in for the kill.

Lucina's foot lashed out and struck against the third bandit's side, knocking him into the first. She raised her hand to fire off another spell. The tome surged with energy and stabbed her arm with electricity. She hissed and slipped back just in time to avoid a strike from the second bandit. She reached up to wipe the snow from her face again, and when her vision cleared, she saw the blade already racing up for her head.

Lucina kicked it aside. The second bandit growled and charged at her with his shoulder. Lucina jumped away, letting him crash into the first bandit. She thrust her arm out and fired a Thunder spell. This time, the third bandit jumped out from the story and the spell fizzled against his chest. He hissed and clutched his chest. When his gaze snapped back to Lucina, though, he looked more irritated than hurt.

"You idiot!" the first bandit hissed as he staggered back to his feet. "Watch where you're swinging!"

"How am I supposed to with all this snow around us?" the second bandit shot back.

"Shut up you idiots," the third said. "Can't you see this is what she wants? She thinks she's so smart, getting us to hit each other. We ain't gonna be made fools by her or the boss is gonna make examples outta us."

"She's got magic, how's we supposed to fight that?" the first said.

"It's a busted tome. She can't hit us forever. You," the third said, pointing to the first. "Stay by my left. You," he pointed to the second. "Stay by my right. If we know where we is and we don't change, we ain't gonna hit each other."

Not that it really mattered to Lucina where they were. She just needed a single good shot to end this, but as she pressed the hole closed with her finger and raised her hand, the bandits began to approach her, blocking her view. She stepped back slowly, but the bandits moved with her, leaving her at an impasse.

Her back rubbed against a tree. She had nowhere left to run. The bandit to her left seemed to pick up on this. He grinned, yelled, and charged at her.

Lucina's eye stared down the tip of the sword. She had to move. If she didn't, the wound could kill her. But as the bandit burst from his group, and a gap opened next to the third bandit, Lucina did not think she would get another chance like this. She raised her arm.

The bandit's sword plunged into flesh. Blood spilled over the snow and colored the forest red. Lucina looked down with wide eyes.

Geralt grinned back at her. The bandit's sword protruded from his shoulder.

"W–what are you doing?" she stammered out.

"If you'd trained in the Pegasus Knights, you'd have known you should have dodged that." Geralt winked at her. "You're an interesting lady, that's for sure. If we get out of this alive, you'd better tell me why you were so stubborn about not letting me die."

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Why else do you think I'd want you to live so badly?"

Leave it to the bandit to make everything more complicated. Cursing, Lucina flung out her hand and cast Thunder. This time, electricity surged from her fingertips and tore across the clearing, past the third bandit and into a nearby sapling. The small tree cracked and fell against the ground.

"You missed," the third bandit said.

"I didn't," Lucina replied.

The ground beneath the sapling cracked. Its roots peeled out of the dirt and into the air, and the cracks spread across the earth. The bandits looked down, and it was then that they had realized Lucina had led them right next to the river.

And now, she was about to take them under.

Lucina grabbed Geralt and dashed away from the edge of the cliff. The bandits howled angrily and tried to run after her, but the ground crumbled from behind them and they tumbled into the river. Lucina could feel her feet slipping toward the rapidly crumbling cliffside. She tossed Geralt forward, behind a larger, more stable tree, before she jumped herself.

Someone's hand closed around her leg. Lucina looked down. One of the bandits dangled from her over the river below, snarling. He pulled her down. Lucina's fingers scrabbled against the icy ground, but the snow made the grass slip from her fingers. She saw Geralt reach out and grab her, but the blood seeping from his shoulder made it obvious that he wasn't pulling her up anytime soon.

"Naga dammit," she hissed, and she jammed the tip of her boot into the bandit's eye. The bandit howled in pain, and he dropped into the river below. The white freezing waters swallowed him whole, but he had already done enough.

She could feel Geralt's fingers, already slick with blood, lose their grip on her. Lucina reached up with her other hand to grab him. He grabbed a nearby root and tried to pull her up, but to no avail.

Suddenly, another pair of hands grabbed onto hers and heaved her onto the snow.

Lucina spat out the white from her mouth. Her heart racing, she let out a sigh of relief, and she looked up to see who had saved her.

Anna returned her stunned gaze with a red-eyed wink. "Been a while, hasn't it?" she said.

Chapter Text

Lucina didn't think Anna approved of her running away. She thought that, because right now, Anna was glaring daggers at her from across the small table they sat at over the few belongings she and Geralt had between them. When they'd reached the Feroxian town, Lucina had let Anna guide her and Geralt to a nearby inn. They were there right now, waiting as Boot Anna finished a half-done healing job on a nearby bed.

The girl was by no means an expert yet, fumbling with the staff, and when she closed her eyes, Lucina could tell she had trouble focusing from the way her brows twitched. Still, as Lucina watched the bandit's wounds seal themselves, she noted that the girl had improved since the last time she'd seen her. With enough practice, she would pass Lucina in no time.

Turning to Anna, Lucina huffed and said, "You made it here faster than I expected."

"I pulled a few favors, and I was able to hitch us a ride here." Anna raised an eyebrow. "Did you walk here?"

"I did."

"And without sleeping." She motioned to Lucina's face, where Lucina was sure there were still bags under her eyes. Even after a night's rest, Lucina was still sure she looked a mess.

Right now, she couldn't be bothered to care. "It's nothing new," she replied.

"If you'd waited a day, you could've gone with us."

"I can't predict the future. I needed to get to Ferox sooner."

"A day wouldn't have killed you."

Lucina hummed. "It might not. But I don't like taking chances."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Boot Anna pull away. Geralt felt over his shoulder, where the bandit Mercenary had slashed it open, then moved it around.

"Is it any good now?" Boot Anna asked, and she placed the heal staff down on a nearby chair.

Geralt rolled his arm, and with a satisfied grunt, he said, "It still feels a little stiff, but at least it's not as stiff as it was yesterday."

"Mama said I didn't do good last night, so I needed to try again. Did I do good this time?"

"I'll say." Geralt ruffled a hand through his hair and grinned. "I'm just glad it wasn't my lock-picking hand that got cut open."

As Geralt flexed his fingers, Boot Anna turned toward where Lucina and Anna were speaking. Lucina noted, with curiosity, that her eyes were not on Anna, but her. Lucina nodded her way once, and the girl's smile brightened.

Lucina turned her gaze toward Geralt. When the bandit noticed her looking, he chuckled. "Still looking to lock me up, Princess?"

"I might."

"Come on. After all we've been through?"

"You tried to kill me," Lucina said, her eyes narrow.

"Road's rough this time of year. It'd have been more strange if I'd tried not to kill you."

"That's not earning you any more trust."

"True. True." Geralt's eyes flicked to Boot Anna standing beside him. The girl, suddenly aware of his gaze, stepped back nervously. "What's to stop me from taking the girl?"

Both swords came out instantly.

"I'd not try it, hon," Anna said, grinning.

Lucina, with a little more edge, added, "You'll regret it."

Geralt raised his hands and backed away. "Okay, okay, I get it. It was only a jest."

"Well you've got me laughing." Anna raised her sword.

Lucina exchanged a look with Boot Anna. When the girl looked back, she nodded to the door. "Return to your room."

The girl did so quickly, and in a matter of seconds, it was just the three of them in the room.

"So, what was your original idea again? Leave him to rot in jail?" Anna hummed. "I think I rather like the sound of that."

Lucina sighed. "No. As much as I'd like to, he saved my life. I'd rather not let the debt go unpaid."

"Oh, please. You're feeling sorry now?"

"I'm sure he's not above a poor sense of humor." Lucina glared at him. "And as poor as it was, I'm sure it was just that. I wouldn't retract a favor for something as trivial as that."

"And where was any of this pity when you were running away from me, huh?"

Dropping her sword, Lucina gave Anna a look. "You're bringing this up now?"

"Do you have anywhere else to be?"

"I do," Geralt said.

"No you don't. The window's locked, dear," Anna said. "Unless, of course, you'd like to go through me?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine."

"Then sit." Anna turned to Lucina. "You said you'd take the job. I paid you in advance. Then, you run off. What do you think I'm angry about?"

"It was thirty gold coins. I'm sure you have gold to spare."

"That's not the point. You took my gold. Do you know what we call that in the business of selling things? Stealing!"

"You gave me that."

"I gave you that because you said you'd offered to work for it."

"Well consider my offer revoked."

Anna scowled. "I'll put a bounty on your head. You think I can't?"

"Try me." Lucina raised her sword at Anna's head. Anna just glared harder. Lucina didn't care. She'd already spent too long in the woman's company. Working for Anna would just slow her down.

As did, she realized, this stupid confrontation. Sighing, Lucina reached for the bag of gold by her side and tossed it onto the table.

"Take your stupid gold. I'd rather keep a bag of sludge with me than have to resort to your dirty money. But," she said, stopping Anna as she reached for the bag, "in exchange, you'll let me have his gold."

Lucina pointed at Geralt. Geralt frowned. "You can't steal from me, either."

"You stole that gold first. If I'm not entitled to her gold, you're not entitled to yours either."

"Hey," Anna said, slinging the bag of gold around her fingers. "You beat him. As far as I'm concerned, you earned it."

Lucina huffed, and she grabbed Geralt's purse off the table next to her. Before she turned to leave, Anna asked, "What do you want to do about him, then? You said you weren't gonna leave him out to dry."

"Bring him to the capital and let them take him. The dungeons are nicer there."

Geralt coughed. "The capital? You can't be serious."

"About the dungeons being nicer? I am." Lucina tilted her head. "At least the dungeons there are heated. Would you rather freeze to death here?"

"No, but..."

But the prison cells here are easier to escape. Lucina knew that, and in all likelihood, Geralt knew too. She'd said before she wanted him to escape, if only to ensure that the future would continue as planned. Right now, though, she wasn't feeling particularly generous. At the end of it, Gaius was nowhere near as important as her father.

Anna nodded toward the door. "Gregor's downstairs. Bring him back up, and he can watch over our friend here until we get to the Feroxian capital."

Lucina only made a noise of affirmation, before she stepped out and closed the door behind him. As soon as she did, all the anger escaped her in a long sigh, and the weight of everything she'd said came crashing down on her.

Gaius wasn't important? What was she thinking? Owain would kill her if he learned she'd erased his father from existence!

I've got to make sure he escapes and set the future on the right path again, she thought, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. This is just a minor detour, that's all. I can still fix this. I can still make sure Geralt gets to where he needs to go, and I will make everything right again.

But first, she needed to find Gregor.

He had never been a particularly difficult person to find in her time; he was always one of the most jolly and loud people in any room he'd been in. When Lucina went downstairs, however, it took her a moment to find him–as soon as she laid eyes on him sitting at the bar, she realized why.

"Gregor," she said, sliding into the seat next to him.

Gregor looked up from his mug. "Marth," he replied, then returned to staring into his mug. Water, she'd noted with a small amount of relief. Even this strange, early version of him had enough sense not to drink on the job.

Gregor had never been the melancholy type. He was louder than this. So to see him so quiet, his lips carved into a deep frown... something was up.

Lucina frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. Gregor does not wish to speak with Marth."

"Ah." Lucina pushed away from the bar and huffed. "Okay. You better not be considering filling that mug with ale, because Anna needs you upstairs right now."

"Gregor will go."

"Please do."

Lucina turned and headed for the door. Away from Anna, from Gregor, from Geralt. To Ferox, she presumed, but just out would be fine. She needed a moment to clear her head.

Lucina had not gotten ten feet from him when she heard him say, loudly, "Gregor was going to kill him."

Pausing, Lucina looked back. "What?"

"Bandit killed Gregor's brother. Gregor was going to kill him."

"Excuse me? I saved your life."

Gregor huffed. "Gregor needs no saving."

Lucina gave him a long look. She wasn't quite sure what to say to that. She could retort. She could leave. Neither felt quite right. Finally, she settled on, "I guess you don't," and walked out the door.

The Feroxian town, in all honesty, did not feel too different from Ylisse. Perhaps it was because they were so close to the border, but the streets, the buildings, the smoke pumping out of the chimneys as people walked past bundled in thick clothes all looked the same to her. She spotted a few particularly tough looking fighters in the crowd, more than the Ylissian towns, but perhaps she was not close enough to the heart of Ferox to spot any true differences.

She would need to rectify that as soon as she could; but first, she needed to eat.

Following the sounds of yelling, Lucina quickly found herself at a nearby marketplace. After having eaten nothing but fish and berries for the past few days, anything seemed tasty, but Geralt did not seem to have a lot of buying in mind, and his purse was rather light. That meant Lucina would have to be wise in what she spent.

"Two coins for an apple! Two coins for an apple! Get fresh fruit over here!" she heard a nearby vendor yell over the commotion of busy buyers. That certainly sounded like a reasonable price, so Lucina wandered over. When the vendor spotted her approaching, she smiled, and Lucina waved back. Just before she could ask for one, a voice cut her off.

"–dead! You're all dead!"

She turned around. Who else would she happen to find, but one of the bandit Mercenaries from before being dragged through the center of the street by a pair of guards.

"Sure, sure, you can tell that to the captain," one of the guards sneered, kicking the bandit in the side.

"Your pathetic captain won't stand a chance," the bandit snarled back. "Do you know how many of us are waiting outside your walls? There are a hundred of us waiting, ready to burn your village down if you don't give us what we came here for."

The other guard sighed. "And just what is it you came here for?"

It was at that moment that Lucina realized she had other places to be. She turned to leave, but a crowd had formed to watch the guards, and with dawning dread, Lucina realized she had no way out. She turned back around, and when she did, the bandit's eyes were on her.

The bandit grinned. "Her."

Both guards followed his glare. The townsfolk did too. With everyone's eyes on her, Lucina couldn't help but shrink just a little.

The second guard nodded to his partner, who grabbed both of the bandit's hands and forced them behind his back. Then, he stepped toward her with a frown.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

"I swear, I have nothing to do with this."

The guard leaning against the wall across her watched her with narrowed eyes, but did not reply. Experience had taught her that was not a good sign.

Gritting her teeth, Lucina gripped the table she was sitting at and tried again. "I don't know what you think I have to do with him, but it's not true. I've never spoken with him in my life."

Behind the guard, the door opened, and another one stepped in, a badge on his chest and mug in hand, steam curling out from the top. The captain, Lucina presumed. "Well for someone who's never spoken to him, he sure seems to remember you well," the captain said, leaning over the table. He looked her up and down with a frown. "Blue hair, eyepatch, expensive clothes. No one else in town fits that description."

Lucina let out a breath through her nose and pulled her ratty cloak over her clothes. "I've met him. I've just never spoken with him."

"That doesn't change the fact that he wants your head on a pike." The captain took a swig from his mug. "Him and his hundred friends."

"Excuse me?"

The captain glanced at the guard sitting at the table with her. He motioned his head toward the door, and the guard pushed off the wall, grabbed the steel lance nearby, and marched out. The captain pulled out a nearby chair and sat himself across from her.

"Look," the captain said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My watch scouted the area around the town. From what they were able to track, there are at least a hundred bandits hiding in the woods, waiting to descend upon the town. They don't show up in these numbers, not unless they're royally pissed. So, you're going to tell me what you did, or I might actually consider handing you over."

Lucina looked at the captain. The captain stared back, his eyes drawing narrower by the second. Finally, with a huff, Lucina said, "Their leader ambushed me a while back. I killed him. I assume they must be back to exact some form of justice."

"Just for one bandit? I don't buy it."

Shrugging, Lucina said, "You don't have to. It's what happened then. Believing it or not won't change the bandits out there, waiting to attack." When the captain frowned, she added, "That shouldn't be a problem, should it?"

The captain looked up at her, sighed, and took another sip from his mug. "No, it won't."

"Surely a hundred or so bandits is small fry for the Feroxi guard. Just call them over and the issue will be dealt with swiftly."

"We've dealt with bandits before, yes. Look, I'll speak with the others to get this sorted out."

When he got up to leave, Lucina called after him. "Wait!" she said. "If it's really such a bother, I can leave town right now. They're looking for me, aren't they? If you tell them I left, they'll surely split their forces to come after me, if their main goal is me after all. They surely wouldn't let me run away freely, would they?"

"I'll consider it," the captain said, and he stepped out of the door. Lucina got up to follow him, but before she could, two more guards took the captain's place and stood by the door.

Slowly, Lucina sat back down. She eyed the two new guards, an uneasy feeling taking hold in her gut.

Then again, the captain had said he'd needed to confer with a few others about their plan of action. Surely they would let her go after that. It would be asking the bandits to come down on them if they didn't, and even if this was a Feroxian town, Lucina understood their hesitance to face the bandits. Letting her go would be the most sensible option.

Which was why, when a few minutes of waiting stretched on, that uneasy feeling only grew.

As she waited, the two guards turned to each other and began speaking in hushed tones. She couldn't quite pick out what they were saying, but she could hear the words, "bandits", "Ambersville", and "Ylisse." Not words that gave her confidence.

A few more words passed between them, before one of the guards snapped, "They killed my best friend. Do you think it's easy for me?"

"I'm not saying that, but maybe you could stand to be a little–"

Lucina cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said. The two guards paused in their conversation to look at her. Lucina gave her best sheepish grin. "I've not had the chance to relieve myself for the past day. Do any of you mind showing me where the bathroom is?"

The guards exchanged a look. One of the guards turned to the door, but the other sighed and grabbed his shoulder. "Come on. She's just a noble brat. What can she do?"

That set off even more red flags. Lucina tried her best not to look nervous as both guards approached her and guided her toward the door.

They led her around the small building, past the captain speaking with a group of his men. When they saw her pass by, they immediately quieted. Lucina paid them no mind, keeping her eyes on the two guards escorting her.

After turning a few more corners, the guards steered her toward a door labeled "bathroom." As they drew close, Lucina leaned over one of the guards. The guard seemed to notice this, and his face burned bright red. He shuffled away uncomfortably, just in time to catch her reaching for his lance.

"Don't touch that," he hissed, slapping her hand away.

He never noticed the boot aimed for his face until it was too late.

The second guard cursed. Lucina tried to take his lance from him before he could retaliate. Had she not been so tired, she probably could have easily. The guard pulled away before she could and twacked her across the face.

Lucina crashed into the wall, and her head rang like a bell. Nearby, she heard footsteps approaching from down the hall. The other guards had heard the commotion. She needed to finish this fight before they got here.

Not an easy task, now that the first guard had recovered. He snarled and thrust his lance. Lucina ducked–or she would have, but somewhere in the tired haze over her mind, her feet got tangled together, and she fell to the floor. The second guard raised his lance behind her and thrust down. Lucina rolled away, and the lance speared through her brown cloak. She yelped, suddenly yanked back, and the guard pressed his boot down onto her cloak before she could try to tug it free.

With nowhere to run, the first guard thrust for her again. Lucina swung right, striking the shaft and batting it aside. The second guard yelped, and he jumped to the right before the lance could run him through.

"Watch it!" he yelled.

The first guard growled and threw his lance to the ground. "Forget it!" he growled back, and charged for Lucina, arms outstretched.

Lucina just reached for the bathroom door and swung it open, and the guard's head slammed into it full force. He crumpled to the floor like a sack of bricks–not that Lucina had the chance to savor the satisfaction when the force swung the door back on her hand. Lucina could hear the bones crack, and she clamped down on her bottom lip to avoid screaming in pain.

The second guard, who had been about to spear her through, hesitated. Lucina took the chance to pull her cloak out under his boot. She grabbed, pulled, and slipped to the floor. That seemed to snap the guard back, and he cursed, bringing his lance down to impale one of her arms.

It was then that Lucina remembered she could just take it off. Goddess, I'm an idiot, Lucina thought, and she ducked out of the sleeves.

The lance pierced through the stone behind her. The guard pulled it out to strike her again, but Lucina ducked into the bathroom and out of reach.

The bathroom was sparsely decorated. There was a window above her–barred, of course–and a pot in the middle. Then again, the bathrooms in Ylisstol were not much better; maybe a bit better lit, with a few more decorations and a basin, but that was it.

Lucina's brain reminded her then that was not the point as the guard stepped forward to begin his offensive anew. Perhaps if she had been better rested, she would not be distracted as easily. Lucina reached her foot back and kicked over the pot behind her. Water and waste spilled out onto the floor.

Had the guard not been so eager to recapture her, he might have been a bit more cautious. As it was, he slipped on the suddenly wet floor and crashed into the floor, groaning.

Jumping over the rapidly growing puddle on the floor, Lucina grabbed his lance from him and slammed the blunt end into his head, knocking him out. And just in time, too; as soon as she finished, the captain rounded the corner, followed by at least three more guards. They stepped in front of the captain, their lances raised, and the captain groaned.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to return to the room," he said, slowly.

"I was told you would only need me for a brief conversation," she shot back.

"You'll be released as soon as we finish our discussion."

"Discussion about what? What you plan to do with me? I think I'd rather hear what you have to say about me, instead of being locked away in a separate room, anticipating my fate."

Then, a thought occurred to Lucina. She blamed her lack of sleep for not seeing it sooner, but at this point, she was already here so what did it matter?

"You were going to hand me over to the bandits, weren't you?"

The captain scowled. "And what if we were?"

"You don't negotiate with bandits," Lucina replied. "Give in, and the rest of the lot will demand more from you."

"We don't have any other choice. There are a hundred bandits outside the village walls. We can't hope to hold them off, not with how many other villages they've already burned to the ground."

"Why can't you call the Ferox guard for help, then?"

"Do you know how long it would take them to reach us? By the time they get here, everyone here will already be slaughtered. Usually, the Ylisse guard is closer, so we ask them for help, but they're too tied up with the civil war to help us."

"The civil war?" Lucina's eyes narrowed. "What civil war?"

The captain scoffed. "You didn't hear? Ylisse is in turmoil. No one trusts the Exalt to run the country, not after the failed execution, nor her poor handling of weeding out the traitorous lords. I hear she has been trying to rein them in, but if it's taken this long, it's clearly not working. We've got to fend for ourselves."

Failed execution? Her execution? Lucina had known that she had messed things up, but to hear that she had messed things up this badly?

There had been no civil war before. There was now. People had lost faith in Emmeryn, and it was all because of her.

"I've got to get out of here," Lucina mumbled. Turning to the captain, she said, "Why can't you let me go? If I leave, the bandits will follow me."

"With all the destruction they've caused, that's not a chance I'm willing to take." In front of her, the captain raised his mug toward her. "You can't hate us just for trying to keep our town safe, can you?"

"No. But I suppose that means you won't hate me for trying to stay alive, either."

The captain opened his mouth to reply. Lucina wouldn't have it. She turned around and bolted in the opposite direction.

"Don't let her get away!" the captain yelled after her, and she heard the guards give chase.

Which was just what she needed.

With all their eyes on her, Lucina pulled back her arm and hurled the lance at the guard in the middle. He yelped and stepped to the side, unwilling to be speared through. The other guards moved with him, and the lance sailed past all of them.

Before they could close rank, Lucina darted through. The captain tried to reach for her. Lucina reached back and smashed his mug to his face. She darted around corners with precision, already remembering which turns to take to the exit, and before they could catch her, she was out the door and had disappeared into the crowd.

Chapter Text

As Lucina slipped through the streets, hunched down and slipping through alleyways, she sensed a nervousness in the air. People who passed her spoke in hushed tones, and some shot glances at the walls as if they expected them to come crumbling down at any second.

The guards surely most have told the townspeople they had little to worry about–a panicked town was an unpredictable town–but people had a knack for picking up on if something was wrong, and right now, they would all die if she didn't get out of here and led the bandits away.

"Someone said she went that way!"

Lucina froze. Just outside the alley, she heard a few soldiers approach, their armor clanking loudly as they ran. Lucina ducked behind a nearby crate, and she poked her head out just in time to see them sprint past. She caught the sight of the captain among them, frustrated and angry, and his words repeated in her head.

"Civil war."

A civil war she had caused. A civil war that was entirely her fault.

Killing her grandfather wasn't enough. Killing Tomas wasn't enough. The blood of countless Ylisseans could be on her hands because she had been so stupid and caused an all-out war.

No. I can't think like that. Lucina groaned and clutched her head, sitting down in the alley as she tried to calm the rush of thoughts in her head. Maybe... maybe it's not as bad as I assume. The war could be over before it has time to claim too many lives.

Ylisse would survive it. If there was anything she could count on, it was that ferocious Pegasus Knight captain. She was loyal to Emmeryn to a fault, and if she was with Emmeryn, the rest of the Pegasus Knights would follow suit. With the Pegasus Knights at her side, then victory was assured for Emmeryn on the front line. Lucina had nothing to worry about.

Then, a realization hit her. One so obvious, she was stupid for not thinking it, but... what had she been here to stop?

Emmeryn's assassination. If they can't beat the Pegasus Knights, what's to stop them from sending a killer after her? And if Emmeryn is in danger, what would stop them from going after father?

She had to get back. She had to save Emmeryn. A voice in her head screamed that it could break the timeline, but she crushed it and let it bleed out into the cobblestone below her.

To hell with that. If she had caused a civil war, of all things, then how much worse could it get?

The only thing that stopped her from throwing herself out and breaking into a sprint back toward Ylisstol was the painful reminder of her own failures–Because, she realized, as she came to a stop just before the end of the alley, if she couldn't win against a bunch of bandits, what hope did she have against Ylissean soldiers? Against people who had more training than what little she could piece together, fighting for her life? Against people who could actually beat her, who would kill her?

What could she do? What could she do? Everything was falling apart so fast and so horribly, she wanted to clutch her head and scream.

"Marth?" a familiar voice called out to her, small but firm.

Lucina looked up. Standing before her, one of Anna's daughters looked up at her, a concerned frown on her face.

It took her a moment to remember which one this was. They all looked the same to her–same face, same ponytail, same annoying smile–but Lucina looked her up and down all the same.

No worn out boots. No scarf. No teddy bear clutched to her chest.

This one is the sleepy one.

Lucina huffed. "Do you need something?"

"Why did you have to leave again?" the girl replied, frowning.

"I told you, I have duties I must fulfill."

Sleepy Anna scowled and shook her head. "Not that. I meant today! You came back, and you're leaving again?"

"Oh. That. Your mother and I had a disagreement. I simply decided I didn't want to work for her anymore." Then, Lucina frowned. "Say, why are you here?"

"I thought you didn't work for mama anymore. You don't have to worry about that."

"But you're still a child. Anyone would be worried if they saw you out here on your own."

Humming, Sleepy Anna kicked the floor and nodded ahead. "It's market day. Mama told me to go out and buy some rope before we go out to sell some things."

Market day? Lucina pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course. That was just like Anna. Bandits were about to invade the village, and the woman would still drag her wagon outside to make a quick buck.

But she didn't know, did she?

What difference did it make, if she knew? She would likely be too stubborn to listen.

And if she dies because you brought the bandits to her, what will you do?

What would she do? Why should she care? She hated the woman. She'd betrayed her friends and left them to die.

Then her eyes fell on Sleepy Anna, already walking away. Her eyes widened.

Oh. Right.

Before she could disappear into the crowd, Lucina raised her hand to stop her.

"Wait!" she said.

The girl turned around, confused. "Huh?"

"Where's your mother?"

"She should be down the street. Why?"

Lucina sighed. "You need to get out of here. There are bandits about to attack the town, and you'll be in grave danger if you stay."

"Okay."

Lucina blinked. "Pardon?"

Anna shrugged, and she raised the bag of goods over her shoulder. "I said okay. I'll go."

All the air came out of Lucina in a rush. Her shoulders slackened, and she said, "Oh. You will?"

"What, you think I'd risk my life over a sale? Come on, I'm not that stupid."

Maybe she really wouldn't. Lucina would bet gold her Anna would, but this Anna wasn't her Anna–at least, she assumed it wasn't her Anna–so she might have had more common sense. At the very least, she knew Anna was taking her concerns safe, so Lucina could leave knowing that Anna's daughters would be safe.

As the woman and her four daughters began to walk down the road, Lucina asked, "What are you going to do?"

"Well, first, I'm going to let Gregor and the other guy know where we're going. Then, we'll pack our bags and head off to the town hall. Fingers crossed, it'll probably be the safest building in town."

"You tell Gregor what?"

Lucina stopped in her tracks and looked ahead. Anna did too, and she frowned.

"Gregor? Didn't I tell you to watch the other guy?" she said, waggling her finger.

Gregor rolled his eyes. "Gregor tied bandit to bed. He is fine."

Lucina would bet that he'd already escaped; but that didn't matter now, because Geralt was the last thing on her mind. "That's not important right now," she hissed. "You two need to get the children into the town hall as soon as possible."

"And what about you, hon?"

Blinking, Lucina turned to give Anna a look. "What about me?"

"Don't think I didn't notice you kept yourself out of the group. What're you planning to do, huh? You planning to play the hero and fight them off?"

"They're here because of me," Lucina said. "I'm going to lead them away from the village."

"You're leaving already?"

Lucina looked down, and when Sleepy Anna looked back at her with pleading eyes, she winced. "I'm sorry," she replied, "But I must go."

Boot Anna gripped her sleeve before she could pull it away. "But why?"

"Because this is my fault. I have a responsibility to fix it."

"Please don't go!" Scarf Anna said. "You just came back!"

"No!" Lucina said, and she yanked her arm away. Boot Anna stumbled back, and Scarf Anna flinched. Lucina's face softened, and she said, softer, "No. I cannot stay. This is my problem. I must fix it."

Beside her, Anna sighed. "Come on, girls. You heard her. Let's get to city hall."

The woman's daughters looked reluctant to follow. Lucina opened her mouth to tell them to listen, but before she could, Gregor spoke.

"Please," he said, "if girls want Marth to stay, Gregor does not know why she should not stay. Gregor will go."

Lucina's wide eyes snapped to him. "What?"

"Gregor will go. He is must stronger than Marth, no? He can lead bandits away. He helped Marth fight bandits, so they must hate him as much."

And he might just die for it. "You can't," Lucina said, frowning.

Gregor glared at her. "Gregor must. If he cannot avenge Gregor, then he will fight bandits in Gregor's name."

Lucina tried to ask him what that meant, but Gregor had already turned and began to walk the other way. To the bandits. The bandits she had brought.

"Stop!" she said. Gregor didn't listen.

"Come on," Anna said, and she placed a hand on Lucina's shoulder. "If he wants to be like that, it's his choice."

Lucina didn't know how she'd kept it in for so long. How, with everything else falling apart around her, she had convinced herself that it was okay, that she could put everything back together, but in that moment, she snapped.

"No, it's not!" she screamed, slapping Anna's hand away. The woman backed down, shocked. Lucina didn't care, clutching her head.

"None of this was supposed to happen!" Lucina pointed at Gregor, who had froze. "You're not supposed to be this stupid!" She pointed to the walls. "They're not supposed to be here." Then she pointed to the forest beyond. "And there's not supposed to be a civil war in Ylisse! All of this happened because of me, because of my mistakes."

Anna laughed, but expression was strained. "Come on. It's not like you killed the Exalt."

"But I did!" The admission stunned Anna. It stunned the few people passing them on the street. If Lucina were thinking straight, maybe she would be too, but all she could see right now was red.

"Everything is going wrong because I killed him. The blood of everyone in this stupid war, everyone in those villages, are on my hands." She stormed up to Gregor, and before he could protest, she grabbed him by the collar and hurled him back into Anna. Startled, Anna yelped and pushed him back. He staggered, then looked at her with a scowl. He opened his mouth. Lucina pressed her finger against his nose with a snarl.

"You're staying right here."

"Gregor says he can decide for himself," he said.

"And I say, you don't have a choice in this! This is my responsibility, and I am not going to let you be another mistake I have to fix!"

Gregor opened his mouth to reply, but any word he had been about to say was cut off by a scream. Everyone turned toward the sound, only to find the nearby town walls engulfed in a bright red blaze.

Chapter Text

Panic spread much faster through the crowd than Lucina thought it would. Panicked people pushed their way past her, toward the town hall. Lucina turned back and searched for Anna and her daughters in the crowd, but they had already been swept away.

Lucina looked back at the walls. The flames had begun to spread higher, painting streaks of orange against the sky. And through the mangled gates splattered over the road, Lucina saw bandits spill out, armed and with murder in their eyes.

It didn't take a genius to know she should probably get out of the street.

Lucina dashed ahead and inside the closest building; the inn.

As Lucina leaned back against the door, she prayed to Naga they hadn't seen her go inside.

Defending a village against an invasion? How did I end up back here? she thought, and she stumbled toward the stairs. If they didn't know she was here yet, perhaps she could sneak out onto the rooftops or a backdoor and make her way to the exit.

And leave the town to burn, like you left Ylisse to burn?

Lucina stopped. She hissed and ran a hand through her hair. No. No, she wasn't leaving Ylisse behind, she was going to return to save it.

But at the rate things were going, what would there be left to save? Ylisse would still be there, but would Emmeryn? Was it truly Ylisse if there was no Emmeryn? Why did she insist on running away when everything she touched went so horribly wrong?

I don't know! Lucina hissed at herself. I just don't know!

From outside, she heard voices. "Hey! I think I saw someone go inside!"

Lucina cast a look over her shoulder. Something slammed against the door. Cursing, she threw herself behind a nearby table.

She heard one slam, two, then a snap as the door came tumbling down. Three voices drifted in, laughing as she heard them overturn a few nearby tables.

"Aw, shucks. There's nobody here," one of the bandits said.

"Nobody here to stop us, you mean," another piped up. "Can you believe how easy these raids are? Like takin' apples from a baby."

"But that means there's no one here to kill, either," the third said. "After a whole day of dealing with Vincent's ranting, I was looking for someone to take my stress out on."

"Don't tell me about it," the first said. "If that stupid girl would just show up so he could kill her, maybe he'd stop being such a pain."

The second laughed. "You say that as if she is just going to come out of the–"

He stopped. So did she. Lucina glanced to her right. The bandit stared back.

Lucina moved first. She lunged, tackled him to the ground and her hands wrapped around his sword. She tried to wrest it away from his grip. The bandit tugged back. Lucina was only able to tug one more time before movement caught her eye. She ducked out of the way, and the second bandit's kick reached just an inch shy of her chest.

All eyes were on her now. Lucina, unarmed, against three bandits armed to the teeth. The first had a sword, and the second and third bore a pair of wicked-looking axes. Had she kept the javelin she'd stolen from the town guard, perhaps a fight would have been more enticing. As it was, there was only one thing she could do; Lucina turned and bolted up the stairs.

"She's getting away!" one of the bandits yelled. "After her!"

Running down the hall, Lucina caught one of the doors leaning slightly ajar, and she made the split second decision to barge inside. As soon she slammed the door behind her, she slid the bolt in place and turned to scan her new surroundings.

Immediately, she is struck by the strangest feeling of deja-vu. She had seen this room before; the crumpled bedsheets and weapons laid haphazardly over the floor look familiar. But the biggest giveaway is the man sitting on the bed, his arms bound behind him.

Lucina blinked. It took her a moment for the words to reach her lips, and when they did, they came out more clipped than she'd intended. "You're still here."

Geralt snorted. "How'd you figure that out?"

"I'd assumed you would have escaped by now."

"Yeah, well it turns out your red-headed friend knows how to tie a mean knot." Geralt wriggled around the bed, but from Lucina's perspective, it didn't look like he was going to get anywhere.

Picking up Geralt's sword lying on the ground, Lucina cleaved through his bonds with one swift swing. Geralt didn't hesitate to jump to his feet and wring his wrists, shooting her a sour look as he did so.

"You sure changed your tune real quick," he said.

"Circumstances have changed," Lucina shot back, and she made her way toward the window.

"Changed how?" Glancing back at the door, Lucina didn't miss how Geralt suddenly looked more nervous than he had before. "Was there a fight down there? What's going on?"

"You remember the three bandits we fought off yesterday? It turns out they brought a few friends."

"Like, a few friends? Or a few friends?"

Lucina tried to turn the latch on the window. It budged, but not quickly enough. The cold weather must have made the hinge stiffer than usual. Waving a hand over her shoulder, she said, "Depends on if you count a hundred as a few."

"Naga almighty, what did you do to get them this pissed off?"

"I must have angered their boss somehow. Perhaps Vincent was his brother."

"And what are you going to do about it?"

That gave Lucina some pause. What would she do about it? Fix it? Flee?

"I don't know," she finally replied.

"Well, you better figure it out fast, or we might be in for a whole host of troubles."

As if on cue, the door shudders, a loud banging coming from the other side. The bolt held, but with how quickly they had torn down the entrance, Lucina would not count on the rest of it to stay firm for any longer.

She raised the hilt of her sword, and with a shout, brought it down onto the glass. Cracks shot out like a web from the impact, but it wasn't enough to break through, and the pommel bounced back and smacked her on the nose. Cursing, Lucina raised the sword and tried again. This time, it broke through, sending shards down onto the ground. Lucina poked her head out, watching as they shattered against the cobblestone. She scanned the buildings around her, and her eyes caught on a nearby rooftop; a flat one, perhaps a shop of some sort.

She stepped out onto the ledge, then shot a look back to Geralt. "Are you coming?" she asked.

Geralt frowned. "You know, with how many people are out to kill you right now, I'm not sure I quite like the idea."

"You speak as if you have a choice. Don't forget, you helped me fight those three yesterday. Do you think that will endear you to the rest of them?"

"You make a strong point." Scowling, Geralt made to follow her, motioning out the window. "Take the lead, then, Princess."

Princess. Were the town not burning in the distance, she might have laughed. Gritting her teeth, Lucina tucked the sword under her arm, bunched her legs, and jumped.

The rooftop came toward her, then rose past her. Lucina threw out her arms. Her fingers caught the edge of the roof, and as she pulled herself up, Geralt caught the ledge next to her.

"I hope you don't plan on jumping off any more buildings," Geralt grumbles as Lucina helps drag him over the edge. "My arm's still a little stiff."

"I don't plan on making a habit of it," Lucina replied. She glanced back just in time to see the other bandits break down the door. She raised her sword and narrowed her eyes.

With no ranged weapons between them, taking the jump across would be suicidal. At least the bandits seemed smart enough to recognize this, and as she watched them back away from the door, she let out a sigh of relief.

"Come on, let's move," she said.

"Where?" Geralt crossed his arms.

Lucina opened her mouth to reply. She felt the heat before she saw it, and on instinct, she threw herself back. An Elfire spell soared over her head, singing the few strands of blue hair in front of her face. She glanced down.

A mage glared back, another spell curling around his fingertips.

"I don't know! Just move!" she hissed. Before he could say a word, she grabbed Geralt by the scruff and dragged him left. The Elfire spell that followed brushed against the side of his face. He hissed. "Watch the face!"

"Better half your face than all of it," Lucina snapped. She leaped onto the next roof, one not nearly as flat. Her feet caught onto the gutter, and she clawed up the shingles and over the top. Behind her, pieces of the roof splattered out into the air. She looked over her shoulder, and sure enough, Geralt scampered up the roof right behind her.

Lucina leapt off that roof onto another flat one. As soon as her feet touched solid ground, it trembled beneath her weight. The stench of smoke reached her nose, and when she looked down, she saw that the building was already ablaze.

Another tremor shook the building. Another Elfire spell wracked against the support beams. Lucina raced across it, listening for Geralt's footsteps behind as the building began to crumble. Bunching her legs, she leapt onto the next roof.

A straw roof. In hindsight, perhaps they'd meant to panic her into rushing a decision; not that any of it was on her mind as she broke through the flimsy straw roof and crashing onto the stack of hay nestled below.

She barely had time to gather her wits before she heard a second crash. Lucina looked up, cursed, and threw herself left as Geralt tumbled after her. A quick look around told her that they had landed in some kind of stable. It smelled strongly of hay and sweat, and a few horses stood in the stalls beside them.

Someone squeaked. Lucina snapped to attention and scanned the room. Four villagers were huddled on the opposite side of the stable, staring at her like she had just fallen from the sky.

For a moment, all they did was stare. A tense silence settled between them; one that was broken when the doors burst open.

"There they are!" someone shouted just outside.

Lucina froze.

One of the villagers screamed. They scattered in a rush of movement, and Lucina realized that, if there was any time to take advantage of the confusion, now would be it.

Grabbing Geralt's arm, she bolted deeper inside; perhaps there was a window that would let them sneak out through the back.

"In here!" Geralt hissed, and he yanked her behind a nearby trough. Lucina opened her mouth to ask what he was doing.

A bandit stormed through where they had been moments later, growling as he scanned the area. Lucina ducked low until she was sure her head was hidden by the top of the trough.

As soon as she heard his footsteps go past, she snuck a peek over. There, just across the aisle the bandit had passed through, was an open window.

"What are you doing?" Geralt growled as she slipped from their hiding place. She motioned for him to stay down and looked around.

The bandit who had passed them was still checking the aisle. On the other side, she could count the four villagers from before, pinned by the three bandits and the mage from the inn. And standing over them, his face twisted into a snarl, was a towering bandit in red.

"Victor?" Geralt muttered over her shoulder. "What's he doing here?"

"I thought I told you to stay back."

"You're no more better at staying hidden than I am. If you poke your head out here, you'll get us both killed." Grabbing her by the scruff, he pushed her back against the trough. Lucina grunted, displeased, but who was she to argue against a career criminal?

"You know him?" she said, pushing herself upright.

"Know him? There isn't a bandit this north of Ylisse who doesn't know him."

"Is he strong?"

"Nowhere near as strong as those Plegian bandits down south, but they've got many friends." Then, Geralt froze. Slowly, he turned his gaze to her. "That wasn't his brother you killed, was it?"

Lucina snuck another look. Now that he had mentioned it, this new, red bandit looked similar to Vincent.

"And what if I did?" she mumbled, sliding back against the trough.

Geralt groaned. "Oh Goddess."

A voice came from the back. "She's not here!"

Lucina and Geralt exchanged a look. In an instant, the two of them ducked behind the trough as the bandit walked past them again.

"I looked through the whole place, but she's gone. Maybe she might've jumped outta the window."

From around the corner, she heard the bandit leader snarl. A loud smack echoed through the room. Lucina winced.

"Where is she?" From the person spoke, it would have to be their leader speaking. Victor, if what Geralt said was right.

Another voice, one of the villagers from before, shakily replied, "I don't know! She disappeared, I didn't see where she went."

Another smack. "Liar! You know where she is! You think you can keep me from my rightful revenge?"

"Victor!" another voice spoke out.

There was a pause. One second, two.

"Victor, please. It's fine."

"Fine? My brother's killer escaped, and you think it's fine?"

"You think she's gonna escape? From us?" Laughter echoed among the other bandits.

"No girl's gonna get away from me!" one said.

"I want to see her bleed just as much as you!" said another.

The first bandit laughed. "Come on, Victor. She ain't getting away. Just you wait, we'll get you your revenge."

A heavy sigh heaved from the bandit leader. "You're right. I'm sorry, I lost myself. She's not getting out of here; not in one piece, anyway."

"And what do we do with the sheep?"

Lucina tensed. She clenched a fist, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Geralt shake his head.

Her father would have helped them. He wouldn't have stood by and let innocent people come to harm.

"This whole village will be nothing but ash by tomorrow morning. Make it quick, and we'll be on our way."

A woman screamed. From the shadows, she saw one of the bandits raise their sword.

Lucina closed her eyes.

But she was not her father.

Geralt breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, a roar ripped itself from her lips, and before she could think about what she was doing, she lunged out of the shadows and tackled the bandit to the ground.

Looking down on him, she could see his eyes wide, startled. Lucina took the chance to slam a knee into his throat. He gasped. A hand flew to his throat. A hand he wasn't using to hold his sword. Lucina's foot slipped under the hilt of his sword, and with a flick, kicked it out of his hand. The sword twirled in the air. Lucina's hand snapped out. Caught it. Lucina flourished it once, leveled it, and charged at Victor.

Fell the leader. Threaten the rest. It had worked with Vincent. No reason it wouldn't work with Victor.

Victor's axe swung up, catching Lucina's blade an inch from his face. Lucina grit her teeth and pushed. His axe buckled against her weight. The tip of her sword grazed against his forehead.

She would make this quick.

Lucina leaped away. Victor stumbled away. Before he could recover, she lunged again. Her sword would have pierced through his chest, straight through his heart, had one of the other bandits not pushed him away. Lucina's sword ran straight through him instead.

Victor stumbled against the wall next to her. He gazed at the bandit she'd skewered, then to her. His eyes narrowed.

Lucina barely had time to register that before two more bandits jumped in from the side, swinging for her head. She ducked, and their axes buried into the support beams above.

Her eye fell on the people, still huddled against the wall. "Go!" she screamed, and the villagers scrambled out the door. One of the bandits turned after them, but Victor caught him by the shoulder and flung him back. "No! They're not the real threat, she is!"

"But they'll–"

"Call for help? A lot of help that'll do her when she's dead!"

The bandit frowned. He rolled his neck, hefted his axe, and turned to face Lucina. They all did.

Five on one. Not good odds.

No, she reminded herself. Not five on one. There's only one that matters.

Her eyes locked with Victor's. His lips peeled back into a snarl.

Lucina lunged. Her sword slipped through the air, aimed straight for his stomach. A bandit beside her stepped in and swung down. She danced to the side. An axe buried itself into the ground to her left.

A shadow. A hand. Lucina rolled forward. A second bandit buried his sword in the support beam above. The building trembled. Bits of straw rained down and stuck to her hair.

The bandit tore the sword out and swung again, roaring. Lucina stepped forward. The sword sliced through her side. Lucina grit her teeth, wrapped her arm around his, and grabbed his shoulder. The bandit grunted. He tried to pull away. Lucina pulled back and hurled him into the third bandit to her right, sending them both into the wall. More shaking. More dust.

She heard a foot slide against the ground behind her. Lucina turned, her sword already swinging out to catch the fourth sword before it could skewer her through the heart. She twisted. The bandit staggered away before she could wrench the sword out of his hand. She moved to chase after him, but a flash of silver caught her eye. She raised her hand. The first bandit's elbow slammed right into her grasp, axe hovering just above her head. The bandit grunted, pushing down on her with his whole weight.

Too close for a sword. Not close enough to protect him from harm. Lucina smashed her other elbow into his nose. He staggered back, hand to his face. Blood dribbled out between his fingers. He raised his axe, ready to block the counterattack.

An attack that never came.

Lucina took the chance to dash past him. She drew back her sword, and thrust forward, a straight line between the tip of her sword and Victor's neck.

Her sword ground against steel, digging into the support beam just to the left of Victor's head. Lucina turned to the right just in time to see the knee slam into her stomach. She gasped, clutching her stomach as she sucked in breath after breath. She ripped her sword out, holding it close as she stumbled back into the center of the five bandits.

"You idiots!" Victor snarled. "Don't just swing at her! Watch out for everyone around you!"

"Yes boss," one of the bandits replied.

"Ugh. Where would you be without me." Pointing to the bandits, he said, "You on the left, you on the right, don't get so close. One goes for the head, one for the feet."

The bandits nodded. Slowly, the approached her, one with an axe, one with a sword. With a cry, they swung at the same time. One high, one low, she couldn't hope to block both. Lucina jumped back, letting the blades cut through the air before her.

Into the axe swing of the third bandit behind her. Unprepared, Lucina wasn't able to brace herself for the heavy weight that slammed into her sword, driving her blade into the ground and nearly wrenching it from her hands. Lucina staggered back, then ducked as a fourth swing carved into the beam overhead, and rolled away as the first and second began their two-sided assault again.

"Yes, yes, that's it! Drive her into the corner, cut her off!"

Lucina's back slammed against the wall. She raised her sword to parry a thrust, but a kick forced her to the left before she could counter. An axe buried into the wall above. A sword cut through the wall beside.

It was like fighting a wall. Any attack she tried to make was cut off at the head. Make a move, lash out, and she risked taking a follow-up from any of the other bandits.

One of the bandits plunged his sword for her arm. Lucina twirled out of his reach.

It was a risk she was going to have to take.

Lucina flicked out. The tip of her sword nicked the bandit's shoulder. He cried out and stepped back.

Lucina only had the momentary satisfaction before a foot came down on her arm, dragging her to the floor. The bandit ground his heel into her, snarling and pressing until Lucina was pinned to the dirt. His eyes flashed. He grinned, raised his axe.

A wooden trough flew in from his left and smashed him into the wall. As chunks of straw came hailing down, Lucina glanced up to see Geralt swinging the trough into the head of a second. As the bandit crumpled to the floor, out, and food spilled out over the floor, Lucina nodded. "Thanks."

"You're not getting out of my questions by dying, you hear?" Geralt replied.

She glanced his way once, then back to the remaining four bandits. "Are you sure about helping me? You don't have a weapon."

"You don't brave it out in the wilderness without knowing how to handle yourself in a bar brawl. Or a stable brawl, for that matter."

One of the bandits charged with a roar. Geralt dropped the through and kicked it under the bandit's legs, and with a cry, the bandit fell flat on his face into the sludge of food waste pooling at their feet.

Lucina hummed, impressed. "You'd better be right about that."

Victor growled. "What are you waiting for? You, keep the girl busy so the other two can kill the thief! He's the weak link!"

"I'm flattered," Geralt sniped back.

Lucina would have replied, had she not had to suddenly deal with an axe swinging for her face. Lucina stepped forward and braced her blade against the hilt. The bandit tried to drag it down, tried to force his weight upon her. So Lucina let him, stepping into his right and letting his full weight crash down into the wall. As he tried to yank it out, Lucina slipped by, spun, and smashed her heel into the face of a second bandit creeping up behind Geralt.

Geralt, busy wrestling the axe away from the third bandit, nodded, and ducked under a swing meant to decapitate him. Lucina heard footsteps behind her. She ducked. An axe sailed over her head. The bandit reversed his swing, and Lucina rolled away from the follow-up.

He wasn't going to be enough to keep her busy. She knew that. He knew that.

The man roared and charged at her, axe swinging in from his left. It was a fast swing. A wild swing. One she couldn't hope to block.

Instead, she jumped under it, and kicked him in the back. The bandit gasped and stumbled forward. His feet caught on the body of the second bandit as he was getting up, and with a cry, he flew forward and slammed into the ground, digging into the dirt with his teeth.

Two on two. Lucina found the odds to her taste. As the second bandit dragged himself to his feet, Lucina found her lips turning up. Over the bandit's shoulder, she saw the bandit wrench his axe away and swing for Geralt's head. Geralt ducked under it, then lunged and grabbed the man by the waist and slammed him against a stable gate.

Her eyes fell back to the second bandit just as he sprung up, his sword curved upward to cut straight through her chin. Lucina jumped back, and the tip brushed against her chest. Her feet had barely touched the ground before the bandit was charging at her, sword raised.

Lucina stepped aside, the bandit staggered back. She swung for his side, but his sword was already raised to block it. The bandit caught himself on a nearby wall before he could run into it, pushed off, and charged again.

"Geralt!" Lucina said.

"Yeah!" he replied.

The bandit swung for her stomach. Lucina brought her sword up to parry. Before he could pull away, Lucina grabbed him by the arm, turned, and hurled him away as Geralt did the same.

Both bandits crashed into each other, back to back, their heads knocking against each other. They stumbled away, dazed. Lucina's bandit barely had time to look up, barely had time to see her coming as, with a shout, she thrust her sword through them both.

Lucina tore her sword free, and as the last two bandits slumped to the ground, her narrowed eyes fell on Victor.

He'd done nothing the whole fight. Nothing except watch through narrowed eyes. Now that his men were dead, his lips curled into a snarl.

"Dammit," he hissed. "Dammit dammit dammit!"

Maybe it was the blood rushing through her ears, or the adrenaline that made her hands feel so light, but Lucina raised her sword to them and hissed, "Would you like to join them? I can arrange that if you'd like."

"I've got to decline," Victor replied. "Things to do, gold to spend."

"Just because you didn't pitch in, don't think that'll spare you your end."

Laughing, Victor waved a hand over his shoulder. "Darling, dying is what the help is for. Good men they may have been, but we leaders should never step in unless necessary. It's what my brother Vincent should have learned, if he weren't so petty."

Lucina glanced at Geralt, who nodded back, his jaw set in a line. Attempt on her life forgotten, they turned back to Victor and readied themselves. "You think you can take us two?" she said.

"Strong as you and your brother may have been, you're no monsters. I'd bet good coin a single Pegasus Knight could take you, barehanded."

Victor's grin widened. "Why do you think I've never fought one, then? It's not just sheer luck, darling. A rat always knows when to slip away, what ways there are to escape traps. And," he added, a finger raised, "speaking of traps, you're not very clever rats if you can't recognize the one you've set for yourselves."

With that, he raised a foot and kicked the doorway beside him–and now that Lucina had a moment to think, they'd done an awful lot of damage to the stable, hadn't they?

Her eyes widened, and she looked up just in time to see the roof come down on her.

Chapter Text

Lucina burst through the rubble with a gasp, hurling off the piece of rubble that had landed on her arm. When she tried to move it, a sharp pain jolted up her elbow, and she hissed.

"You okay?" Geralt said, pulling himself free from an upturned water trough.

Lucina glanced down at her arm–an arm that was moving a lot slower than she felt it should–and replied, "I'm fine."

Geralt huffed, and he glanced around them at the rubble, at the buildings blazing around them. "He's slippery, I'll give him that."

"Smart, too. I've no doubt he'll return with a more formidable force." Lucina sighed. "They're surprisingly on the same page–for bandits, that is."

"Like I said, Victor and Vincent have many, many friends."

"Not much good that did Vincent. His men abandoned him at the drop of a hat. Victor, on the other hand, seems to have been more careful with the men he's brought." Narrowing her eyes, Lucina let a scowl cross her face. "The last time, I managed to escape with my life because Vincent's men were ready to abandon him once he was dead. This time, I don't think I'll be as lucky."

Which left leaving the town as her only option. As much as Lucina hated leaving the town to its fate, she had Emmeryn to worry about; she couldn't afford to risk her life to save a few inconsequential lives.

Except she already had, hadn't she?

Lucina groaned into her palm. "We're going to have to leave town. I just hope that'll convince the bandits to take after me, if only in the hopes of catching me before I get away."

"Hey, any option that doesn't involve us risking our necks is okay by me. Let's ditch these chums and get outta here," Geralt said, shrugging.

Lucina winced. Yes, if it didn't work, she would be abandoning the town, Anna, her daughters and Gregor, to their death.

No, Anna is a slippery woman. She'll find a way. She always does.

Whether it was selling out to bandits or Risen, she always found ways to turn the tables and come out in one piece, so Lucina pushed her worries back into the depths of her mind, clenched her teeth, and pressed on.

As she strolled through the empty streets, her eyes peeled for the slightest movement between the ever-growing wreckage around her, she couldn't help but be reminded of her time in the future–abandoned towns wrecked by Risen, strewn with fire and death, her friends and her calling out over the crackling of the flames for any survivors.

She was silent now, her lips sealed and her breathing slow just so she wouldn't inhale any smoke and give away her position to the bandits scouring the town, looking for her.

They passed by an abandoned medicine shop, and as they turned the corner, Lucina found herself back in the marketplace. She spotted the fruit stand she'd been at earlier that day, now upturned and abandoned, just like the rest of the stalls around it. Were she desperate, she could take one of the apples off the floor and the stall owner would be none the wiser.

But even Lucina had enough pride not to resort to thievery.

"Sweet. Free stuff," Geralt said, and he picked an armful of apples off the floor. When Lucina gave him a sharp look, he glanced down and offered one to her. "Hungry?"

"Not enough to eat off the floor," she said, making a face.

"A hungry thief is a dead thief. Eat before you can regret it." Lucina's face didn't lighten up when he tossed her the apple, but as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She took a bite and tried not to look too pleased with the feeling of actual food in her mouth. She took a bite, then another, and then soon she had stripped the apple of its flesh.

With the core in hand, she glanced around for anywhere to dispose of it–after all, her mother had always said it was unbecoming to toss garbage to the street–but when she could not find any, she stuffed it into her pocket.

"Why'd you do that?" Geralt said, finishing his own apples.

Lucina frowned. "It's rather rude to leave garbage lying around."

"It's not as if anyone's gonna see."

"I'd much rather dispose of it in the forest."

Geralt stared at her hard and long, before he shrugged and tossed his apple cores over his shoulder. "Suit yourself."

Something loud and wooden snapped against the ground. Lucina and Geralt's attention snapped to the stall down the street. Down to the blacksmith's stall, to the upturned box of swords, to the pair of guards digging through the weapons scattered on the floor.

Lucina cursed, the memory of her previous confrontation fresh in her mind. She ducked behind a nearby stall, dragging Geralt with her as she made her way towards where she last remembered the exit to be.

"What's the rush?" Geralt hissed as he staggered past the curtain of fabrics dangling off a display rack.

"I'd rather not be questioned by the guards right now," Lucina replied. "The sooner we get out of here, the better, isn't it?"

She said that, but no sooner did the words leave her mouth did she stop, eyes wide, as three guards stepped out in front of her: the captain and a pair of guards.

Their eyes met. Lucina froze. The guards exchanged a look.

"Seize them!" the guard captain said, pointing their way.

You must be joking, Lucina thought, clenching her sword tight.

Lucina ducked, and the first lance sailed over her head. She stepped forward to get a stab, but a second jab forced her back.

In times like these, she really missed having Falchion by her side. One swipe, and she could have lopped the lance heads off, but here she was, standing at the end of a pair of sharp iron lances and at the end of her wit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Geralt reach for a sword on the ground. The captain noticed this too, and he kicked it away.

"Don't think you're getting away this time," he said, prodding him back with a poke of his own lance.

"What other choice do you have?" Lucina shot back. "The bandits are here! They're destroying your village! Let me escape, and the bandits will follow."

"I'm not going to take that chance. I'd rather take things into my own hands than hope they'll follow you out of town."

Which was fair, Lucina supposed. Decisiveness like that was good to have in a leader–it was how she had kept her and her friends alive when all seemed lost–but when that decisiveness was turned against her, Lucina felt she could be forgiven for letting her irritation bleed through.

Behind her, she heard the pair of guards she had stumbled upon earlier close in. Surrounding her on both sides was by no means a bad tactic–had they the chance to close in, it would be difficult for her to escape.

But a quick glance over her shoulder, and she saw it would take time for them to close the trap. She would be damned if she would let that happen.

Lucina turned heel, raised her sword, and charged. She heard Geralt dash after her, heard the captain curse and give chase. The pair of guards in front of her, initially taken aback, quickly readied their lances to catch her.

The main benefit lances offered was range–with a handle so long, keeping her away was a simple matter, and it was almost impossible for her to land a stab from this distance. Fortunately, she had no need to–Lucina swung her sword to the side, brushing the lances away. Before the guards could recover, Geralt squeezed through and landed a kick on the first guard's face. He cried out in pain and smashed against the stall. The other guard cursed and swung his lance to knock Geralt aside. Big mistake. Lucina ducked under his clumsy swing–a swing not even aimed for her in the first place–and drove the hilt of her sword into the man's chin.

He grunted. He staggered back. Geralt was in his face before he could recover, and his fist smashed into the side of the man's face. The man crumpled against the side of the stall. Geralt shook his fist, grinned, and took off after Lucina as she dashed out of the marketplace and back between the houses.

"You sure you know the way outta here?" Geralt asked as soon as he caught up.

"It shouldn't be too long now," Lucina replied. She glanced over her shoulder to see the captain still on her tail. Briefly, she wondered if he would give up the chase once she had breached the town walls–she hoped he would return to defend the town, but this was a desperate situation, and she knew how desperation drove men to madness.

Geralt grumbled, "Well, I think it just got a lot longer."

Lucina opened her mouth to ask what he meant, before she turned back to see what was up ahead.

At the other end of the road was Victor, backed this time by ten more fearsome-looking bandits.

Guards behind them, bandits ahead. What a lovely situation they'd found themselves in. No way forward, no way back–it was times like these that Lucina found herself trusting the age-old adage of taking the third door for herself.

Turning to her left, Lucina raised her foot and slammed it against a nearby door. All she got for her efforts was a loud bang as the door shuddered. She cursed and kicked again, and the door gave away.

Not fast enough.

She raised her foot one last time, but Geralt stopped her.

"You can't fit a square peg in a round hole, dear," he said.

Lucina shot him a look. "What are you talking about?"

Instead of responding, Geralt grabbed the sword out of her hands and smashed it against the handle, knocking it free and to the ground. He dove inside. Lucina hissed, not too happy about having her weapon stolen from her, and dashed after him. Behind her, she heard the guards and bandits come together with cries of pain and cries of steel as the bandits and guards came together in a blur of bodies and blades. She dared not look back, even as she heard a few run inside after her.

There was a back door. Geralt slipped through without a hitch. Lucina, however, stopped to kick a table over. She looked around just in time to see a guard stumble over the table. He pushed himself off the ground and snarled.

Then gasped, as a sword pierced through his chest. The bandit behind him grinned, and raised his eyes to meet Lucina.

Lucina turned tail and fled before he could grab her, out the door and chasing Geralt's fleeting footsteps.

He stopped by an alley, and ducked inside. Before Lucina could ask what he was doing, he began to clamber over a nearby wagon and hauled himself up on the rooftop. Hearing the sounds of the bandits closing in, Lucina followed. She glanced down just in time to see someone burst through the back door, out into the alley, and past where they stood.

Lucina sighed, and her shoulders slumped in relief.

"Which way is the way out?" she asked, turning to Geralt. The former bandit jerked a thumb over his shoulder, to the other side of the village not yet engulfed in flames. Lucina nodded, huffed, and snatched the sword out of his hands before she headed off in that direction.

She could see more bandits beginning to fill the streets–worryingly, she had yet to catch sight of any other guards. If the guard force truly was this small, this town truly stood no chance against the bandit onslaught. If the bandits chose to pursue her or not, she could not stay here either way.

Finally, they came across a street too wide for them to jump across. Lucina hoisted herself down, not waiting for Geralt to do the same as she started sprinting down the road.

Only to stop.

On the other side of the road, Gregor and Anna stared back at her, in the middle of ushering her daughters the same way, and as soon as they saw their mother stop, they stopped too and turned, curious to see what was going on.

"Where are you going?" Lucina asked.

Anna winked. "The same way everyone else is, dear. Out."

Everyone else? Lucina looked around, and sure enough, she could spy several more people, all of them heading in the same direction. Huddled together, hoping the bandits were distracted long enough for them to flee.

And now she was just another face in the crowd. Fleeing while the rest of the village burned behind her. What would her father say to her if he could see her now?

"Heading out too?" Anna asked, nudging her with her elbow.

"We're all leaving," Lucina replied, deadpan.

"Really? I never would have guessed. Say, while you're here, you wouldn't mind helping me with the kids, would you? This whole business's got them spooked."

"I really shouldn't–" But before she could get another word in, she grunted as one of the girls hurled herself into Lucina and hugged her.

"You came back!" she cried.

Lucina looked down. The lack of a scarf or bear, the polished boots, this must have been Sleepy Anna. She glanced back, and though the other daughters weren't nearly as close, she could see hope briefly flicker in their eyes. She had brought them hope. Her, of all people.

Lucina's face softened. "Yes," she mumbled. "I suppose I did."

Beside her, Geralt smirked. "You certainly have your ways with the young ones, don't you? Like a second mother to them."

"That's ridiculous," Lucina huffed back. "I've not done anything special."

"Special or not, why don't we save the talking for when we've hit the road," Anna said, clapping her hands. "Let's keep it moving, people!"

"You heard her," Lucina said, turning to the girl wrapped around her waist. "Let's go."

Taking her hand, Lucina guided Sleepy Anna off her and toward the exit. Anna ushered the other three forward, Gregor following close behind with a bag of Anna's wares. Geralt slunk after them, something which Gregor didn't look too happy about.

"Why is bandit following behind?" he asked with a scowl.

"I'm not a bandit, I'm a thief," Geralt shot back. "There's a difference."

"Not very big difference. Both steal for living."

"You don't seem to have a problem working for a thief."

"Hey!" Anna shot back, hands on her hips. "For your information, I'm a locksmith. Not a thief. There's a difference."

"Just saying, if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, you can't say it's a goose."

"Everyone, please," Lucina said, groaning. "We have more pressing matters to focus on."

"Like the bandit attack, right?" Anna's grin faltered for a moment, and she gazed at Lucina with narrowed eyes. Even before she opened her mouth, Lucina had a sinking feeling of what she was about to say.

"The bandit attack you said wasn't supposed to happen, right? What did you mean by that?"

"I wasn't talking about the bandit attack."

"Then what were you talking about? The civil war? Dear, civil wars happen, especially after the monarch dies. Have you seen what's happening in Plegia? It's hardly a rare occurrence."

"Not here. Not like this."

"Care to elaborate?"

Lucina huffed, her head sinking lower. "There's no time."

This time, it was Geralt who spoke up. "We've got nothing but time. It's not like you're busy saving anyone, right?"

Lucina's shoulders hitched. She stopped.

Yes. She wasn't saving anyone. Not like in the future. She was running.

Did that mean she was a coward? No, no it didn't. She didn't have the back-up of her friends with her. It was simply... how did Morgan always put it... a tactical retreat. Yes, that was all it was. She wasn't running because she feared the bandits. She was running because she did not have the resources to mount a resistance.

But then... why did the thought make her skin crawl so much?

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

If father could see me now, what would he say?

He would be disappointed in her. He wouldn't say he was angry–Gods, he never got angry at her–but she could tell from the way he frowned that he thought she could be better. She could do better. If he were here, he wouldn't care that he didn't have a man on his side. He wouldn't care that the town guard was out to get him. He would march right back there because it was the right thing to do.

Lucina wasn't her father.

But... the townspeople, scared and afraid... just like the people in the stable, helpless, afraid, crying for help... even then, she couldn't just sit there and let them perish. Why should this time be any different?

"They're here!" someone gasped behind her.

Lucina turned around. Sure enough, there were the bandits, approaching, their axes and swords bristling in the air, the town burning behind him.

She looked over her shoulder. There was the exit. If she made a break for it, she could leave right now, disappear into the forest. Leaving the town to their fate.

Sleepy Anna whimpered below her and squeezed her tight. Lucina looked down for a moment, then spared a glance back at the exit. Her eyes closed. She made her choice.

"Go."

Anna's daughters looked up at her, hesitant. Lucina scowled, and she glared down at them. "What are you waiting for?" she barked. "Go! I'll hold them off!"

"You heard the lady," Anna said, peeling Sleepy Anna off her. "Let's get going, girls."

The other daughters were quick to follow after Anna, but Sleepy Anna stopped to give Lucina a look. "But... what about you?"

"What about me?" Lucina said. "If I am here, I shall not stand by and let things take their course. Live or die, I'll do it standing on my own two feet."

Beside her, Gregor stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "Gregor shall help."

"No. You're not," Lucina snapped. "I won't be there to save you this time. If you're going to do nothing but die here, you may as well not be here at all."

Gregor's eyes narrowed, but he could see his help was not welcome. Lucina eyed him as he turned to help Anna guide her children away, and as she felt the smallest weight lift off her shoulders, she realized that, even after all that had happened, she still couldn't bear the thought of him being hurt. He was still her Uncle Gregor after all.

She glanced to her other side, where Geralt stood anxiously fiddling his thumbs.

"I don't mean to alarm you, lady, but I'm not fancying our odds out here," he said, his brows pressed into a nervous frown.

"One on fifteen." Lucina shrugged. "Not the worst odds I've faced."

"Not the worst–" Geralt scowled. "You better have a damn good story to tell, or I'll be sorely disappointed that I took a blade for you. Not that I'm in any state to do much else," he said, motioning to his empty hands.

Lucina glanced to the buildings, and her scowl deepened. "Then I won't ask you to fight. Surely you remember the route we took to get here?"

"Wouldn't be much of a thief if I never had an exit plan. Why?"

Lucina pointed toward a nearby alleyway. "Head back. Find the guards. Bring them here."

"Don't they hate your guts?"

"Better them than the bandits."

Geralt followed her gaze, then nodded. "That, I can do. You sure you'll be able to hold out?"

"If I've survived for this long being beaten black and blue, a few minutes more shan't be much of an ask from the gods."

"Here's to hoping they hear you at all." And with that, he slipped away, leaving Lucina to stare down the group of bandits as they came to a halt before her.

"They must be low on men to send a lady to stop us," the bandit at the head sneered. "Do you really think you'll be living through this, girl?"

Lucina narrowed her gaze. "I believe you would like to have much better last words than that."

"Whaddya–" The bandit gasped, clutching his stomach. His body kicked up a cloud of dust as he collapsed on the ground.

Lucina drew her sword out from his corpse and flourished. "Who shall I send to accompany him?"

The bandits stepped back, shocked. Then one of the bandits roared and charged.

Lucina danced back. An axe smashed to the ground before her. She raised her sword to drive it through his shoulder, only to twist it away at the last moment to deflect a blade from the left.

More bandits lunged from her right, blades aimed for her chest. Lucina stepped back, blocked another strike for her head, and evaded a swing for her left arm.

Her eyes flicked back. She was losing ground, and fast. At this rate, they may push her back to the others before they had a chance to escape. That, she could not allow.

Lucina jumped back, both hands on the hilt of her sword. She drew back, roared, and brought it forward in a wild swing. The bandits scattered. Her blade sliced past them. One of the bandits lunged forward, seizing the opening.

Lucina did not stop him. Instead, she let the momentum of her blade carry through, spinning with it and landing a kick on the side of his face. He staggered back. His hand grasped at his face, gasping in pain.

Then Lucina stepped after him, finishing her spin with a thrust. It was wild, clumsy from the rest of her spin. The blade tore through his shoulder instead of his heart. Still, a hit was a hit. The bandit howled. That was all the noise Lucina allowed him, cutting him off with a kick to his stomach so hard, he flew back a few feet, into a few of his comrades behind him.

As the bandits stumbled back, Lucina swung again. Slower this time, more controlled. The bandits retreated again, more wary. Lucina took the small victory for what it was. She glanced back. Only a few more people to go. Only a minute longer.

The bandits didn't care. They were in no rush–she was their only target. Slowly, they began to gather their wits. Slowly, they began to fan out, to surround her.

Lucina grit her teeth. Better for the rest of the villagers. Not as good for her.

She could make no mistakes here. Risen weren't like real people. They had no cunning, no patience, hurling themselves at the end of Falchion one by one, hoping to overwhelm her with sheer numbers and endurance. While she had faced more Risen than this measly group of bandits, she could not afford to be careless like before. A single mistake, and they would pounce.

Lucina shifted her feet. The bandits tensed. Their weapons gleamed silver in the orange light of the flames around them.

With a roar, one of the bandits broke away and charged. The rest of the bandits, emboldened, rallied behind him. Lucina parried the first clumsy swipe, but had no time to follow up when axes and swords soared toward her from all directions.

She ducked, sidestepped, blocked, and parried, left, right, up, down, but so many bodies and so many attacks left her boxed in. No openings to strike, nowhere to move but back.

So many blocked strikes, so many swings, and she could feel her arm beginning to throb. The wound she'd suffered earlier, from the collapsing stable–she could remember it, fresh in her mind. Yet she still grit her teeth and pushed on. She couldn't let one wound, one little slip up, cost her her life. She had said she might die. But she could not believe it. Would not believe it, after she had spent so many hellish years throwing herself against the Risen horde–she would not fall here.

Then it happened. A sharp pain, tearing through her arm from her elbow to her fingertips. Lucina gasped. Her grasp loosened just an inch. An inch enough to let the sword slip from her hands. She stooped down, catching it before it could hit the floor.

She looked up, only to find herself face-to-face with the gleaming end of a silver sword soaring straight for her.

Too close to dodge. Too close to block. Only one way through. Lucina grit her teeth, clenched her sword, and charged.

She twisted to the right. The bandit's sword pressed against her side. Then through it. Past her organs, and out through the back.

The bandit who had stabbed her froze in shock. Shock that he had landed a hit on her, for once? Or perhaps shock at registering her own sword, buried hilt deep in the center of his chest.

Lucina could feel her teeth strain, bend, and crack in her jaw from the sheer force it took for her not to scream out in pain. She turned, ignoring the searing pain in her left arm as she hurled the bandit's corpse into the other bandits, forcing them back and giving her a moment to breathe.

Not that she could do much of it, not with the sword buried in her stomach. Every breath she took, every movement she made, she could feel the cut stretch itself open even more–but that was a dull ache, almost completely drowned out from the earth shaking pounding she could feel in her chest.

Brady did always say the more vital organs were on her left side. Gushing blood from her right, she only hoped that being the sister of a cleric would buy her enough time to see this through.

Her feet carried her forward with a lunge. She couldn't remember when she'd decided that, when she'd pushed off the ground, but flying faster than her hazy mind could follow, she let her sword carry her through, straight through the shoulder of the next stunned bandit.

He screamed, clutching the stump where his right arm had been. As his sword clattered against the dirt, the bandit falling to the ground, the man next to him gaped at her.

"How?!" he cried. "You should be done!"

"Done, am I?" she snarled. "I'm done when I say I'm done!"

The bandit staggered away. Not fast enough. Lucina stepped after, dragged her sword off the ground, through his hip, out his shoulder. The bandit collapsed on the ground, howling and grasping at the thick line drawn through his chest.

Quickly, the bandits snapped out of their shock. Roaring, they lunged for her, axes bringing death from the sky. Lucina dove forward to meet them. Her sword flashed in an arc around her. The bandits pulled back. Red splattered over the road–red from a single cut across chests, across hands, across faces. Someone's finger splashed in a puddle of pooling blood in the street.

The bandits scowled at her, not one of them dead, but all of them wary. All of them, at least, had the common sense not to blindly throw themselves at her. Good for them.

Good for her too, she supposed. This sword was no Falchion. Sturdy, sharp, but heavy–she didn't think she could cleanly cut through even one of them, not with a regular old sword, and certainly not with her strength fading with every heaving gasp of air she took in. The world swayed around her. Lucina stepped forward to right herself. The bandits stepped back.

"What?" she said, sneering. "Too scared to challenge a wounded girl? I'll fall to one of you, I can guarantee it. At least one of you shall live to tell the tale. You'd not wish to find out which one of you it shall be?"

"Stop!" Lucina heard behind her.

She glanced back. Just in time to take the blunt end of a lance to the face.

The shock was enough to hurl Lucina's legs out from beneath her. Even through the pain, Lucina had enough sense in her to twist away, landing in the dirt on her side. The sword through her lanced her with pain–much less than it would, had she landed on her side and let it drive the rest of its way through, but enough for her to let out a cry of pain.

Standing over her, the captain of the guard pressed his foot on her hip and frowned. "That's quite enough, miss."

"Enough? Enough from me?" she hissed.

"Enough chaos you've brought upon this town. Did you not think you'd pay the price for it?"

Lucina would have shot back, but the captain nudged her with his foot, and the sword sent another spike of pain through her. She craned her head to look over her shoulder, and when she saw that, at last, the street was empty, she let her head fall as she sagged in relief. At the very least, she no longer had to worry about Anna's girls.

If only the same could be said for the troubles quickly mounting in front of her.

Glancing between them, the bandits raised their swords and tensed. The captain held up an arm, and twenty more guards came pouring in, their lances raised in return. The last one, however, came dragging Geralt behind him. As the man tossed him to the floor beside her, Geralt gave Lucina a grin.

"Much better than the bandits, is it?" he asked.

"They would have run me through without a second thought," Lucina replied.

Geralt's brown eyes flickered down, and he winced. "I see."

"Hush, you two," the captain said, then turned back to the bandits. "There is no need for any more violence here. I know you've come not for blood, but for this girl. Let me speak to your leader, and I am sure we may be able to come to an agreement we can both agree too."

The bandit at the front stepped forward and scowled. "What's to stop us from taking her from you and killing the rest of you lot?"

The guard raised his lance and narrowed his eyes. "You may try, but since I can see she has already caused you so much trouble, I believe you would prefer for an easier option. Well, I am presenting the easy option to you upon a silver platter, along with her head. Surely even someone like you shall see reason?"

Again, the bandits exchanged a look. They whispered between themselves, nodded, and the one at the head replied, "We'll see what Victor has to say about it."

One of the bandits broke away from the rest, disappearing into the alleyways. As Lucina watched him go, she could only lie there and hope that the next few minutes would be kind to her stomach at the very least. After everything, hope was all she had left.

Chapter Text

Victor arrived with more bandits in tow, the setting sun casting a long shadow before him on the road. Her face to the floor, Lucina could feel the captain shifting uncomfortably, but he planted his feet back on the ground before she could grasp the chance. As Victor drew closer, the pebbles on the cobblestone shaking with every step, Lucina craned her next to give the captain a glare.

"What makes you think they'll listen to you?" she asked.

The captain's eyes narrowed. She felt his fingers twitch. "I've got something they want. Bandits are just like anyone else. They'll listen to reason."

"And what's to stop them from simply killing you as soon as they have what they want?"

"What other choice do I have?"

Lucina tried to wriggle free from his grasp, but his fingers tightened around her arms. She glanced up to see Victor approaching, and with it, her doom. Lucina made another desperate bid for freedom. Again, the captain shut her down.

Without thinking, she blurted out, "You're making a mistake."
"Am I?"

"Yes, you are! I must ask you to reconsider. I'm–"

"Well well, a little birdie told me one of the little children wanted to speak with the adults," Victor said, coming to a stop before them, hands on his hips. His eyes roamed over the guards assembled before him, his grin growing wider by the second before he continued, "So which one of you is it?"

The captain cleared his throat. "That would be me."

Victor's eyes snapped to him. "You, darling? You're the captain of this bumbling band?"

"Aye."

"Oh, that's just wonderful. Well, here I am. What do you want from me?"

Unceremoniously, he dragged Lucina off the floor and held her up by the scruff of her neck. The sword in Lucina's gut stung from the movement, but Lucina kept quiet.

"We all know you've come for this girl," the captain said. "Take her and leave. That is all I ask. The rest of these good folk have no quarrel with you."

"Quite the deal. But I've got another one–what say I take the girl, and I kill the rest of you?"

"Then I have her killed on the spot."

Lucina craned her neck back, and though she couldn't see well, she could have sworn she saw the glint of an arrow being drawn back behind the captain. She wriggled again, and when the captain didn't budge, she hissed, "That's crazy!"

"Clever, too," Victor sneered. "I could just have you killed for that."

"And rob yourself of the satisfaction of killing her yourself?" The captain raised his right hand.

Victor narrowed his eyes. The captain glared back. Lucina tried to escape a fourth time to no avail.

"What would your people think if they saw you?" she asked. "Sacrificing a girl to the bandits–surely they would not approve?"

"I do what I must," the captain shot back, but even he refused to meet her gaze.

"To what end?"

Across from them, Victor snarled, "Oh, just hand her over. I'll take it, if only to shut you two up!"

The captain frowned. "Call off your men. Then you can have her."

Victor clicked his tongue twice. A few of the bandits around them stepped back slowly, vanishing into the shadows of the alleyway. They were still there–Lucina could still feel their gazes from all around them–but if they wanted to make a break for it, the captain and his guards would have a fighting chance.

The captain grunted. "Good enough." And he shoved Lucina forward and into Victor's waiting arms. Her arms flew to the hand around her neck. She got a glance of his vicious grin, yellow and rotting teeth behind cracked lips, before he thrust her around, snatched a sword from one of the mercenaries beside him, and held it to her neck.

Lucina's eye locked with the captain. "Help me," she hissed.

Again, the captain looked away.

Victor's grip tightened around her chest. "There's no help for you, girlie. None for my brother, and none for you. Poetic, isn't it?"

The steel pressed against her neck was cool to the touch. It was that cold touch that allowed the reality of it all to sink in. Here she was, in the middle of a burning wreckage of a town, surrounded by enemies, staring death in the face. It was like she had never traveled back in the past at all.

Except–back then, she had her friends by her side. Now, she was all alone.

Was she about to die?

No, this isn't how I die, she thought, shaking her head. It can't be! I still have a mission to complete. I still need to save my family. I still need to save my father!

"Help me!" she cried out, louder this time.

"Shut it," Victor snarled. "There's no one here to save you now, you hear me? No one! Just shut up and accept your fate."

He raised his sword. Lucina wrenched in his grasp. He didn't budge.

No, no, no! This isn't how I die! I refuse to let it end like this!

"Let this be a message to all of you! To the whole world! No one defeats the bandit brothers! No one!"

Then the captain cleared his throat. Victor paused, his snarl frozen on his face.

"Then surely you wouldn't mind delivering your message outside of town, would you?" the captain said quietly.

"Outside? A little squeamish for a guardsman. What are you, five?"

The captain's mouth clamped shut, but Lucina could see something change in Victor's eyes, something sadistic and malicious. Her hand flew to the arm around his sword. She tried to pry it out of his grasp, but his meaty fingers held strong.

Slowly, she felt him shift her to the left. Straight into the path of the archer behind the captain.

"If you feel so poorly about her blood," Victor said, humming, "I wonder how you would feel if it were your own blood on the road, hm? Perhaps I should find out."

The captain tensed. Behind him the guards raised their spears. Victor pretended not to notice.

"Yes, yes, I've got the girl. I suppose I could kill her outside–once I've let my men have their fun with you sorry lot."

"I can still have her killed," the captain said.

"You could," Victor replied. "But perhaps that's not fun to me anymore–perhaps I might find you more entertaining. Tell me, how loud do you scream?"

An arrow let loose. Lucina jerked to the side. Steel tore through her shoulder, and her arm exploded into pain. The arm grasping at Victor's sword slumped to her side, limp and lifeless.

"Have at them, boys!" Victor sang, and the bandits swarmed forward with a roar, descending upon the guards in a whirlwind of clashing steel. They threw themselves against the guards' raised lances, running the cobblestone road red, but they just kept coming and coming and coming. Lances snapped, spearheads tossed to the ground.

Lucina felt Victor's muscles tense behind her. This was it.

An idea. Stupid, painful, but she was desperate, so what else could she do?

Lucina reached up. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword. The one buried in her gut. She sucked in a breath.

Victor's sword closed around her throat. One swift motion was all it would take.

Lucina pulled. Immediately, she could feel her insides being sliced open, pain spreading across her stomach like a blaze. The sword pushed out the other end, straight into Victor's side. He howled. Something warm ran down Lucina's back. His grip around her loosened, and she pushed herself out of his arms before the sword could tear into her throat, drawing a red line across Victor's chest instead.

"Get her!" he screamed, pointing at Lucina. "Somebody get her!"

A few bandits tried to reach down to grab her, but Lucina managed to duck under and weave through. In the chaos, somehow she managed to find herself next to the captain again, locked in combat against an axe-wielding fighter. Though both men were the same size, the bandit's heavier weapon gave him more strength, and as he pressed down, Lucina could see the captain begin to waver.

But she was here. She could save him.

A part of her protested the idea–it was his fault, wasn't it? But Lucina ignored it and looked around for something to arm herself.

Lances littered the floor, still grasped by the cold fingers of dead men. She could not hope to reach them, not unless she wished to risk being trampled by the mass of thrashing bandits and guards struggling to survive. The only weapon she had with her was–

She looked down at the hilt protruding out of her stomach.

It was a bad idea. A horrible one, and she was risking it all for what, a man who'd as good as sentenced her to death?

And it was what her father would have done–so it was what she would do as well.

Lucina grabbed the hilt. Braced herself. And with a roar, she tore it free.

Blood, her blood, splattered onto the street. More of it, she could feel running down her side. If Brady were here, he would tell her she only had a few minutes to find a heal staff before she passed out from the blood loss.

More than enough time to get something done.

Lucina flicked her sword once, raised it to her eye level, and thrust. The bandit, busy with the captain, never noticed her sword sliding through his ribs until it was too late. He gasped once, his axe clattered to the floor, and he followed shortly after.

The captain turned to her, surprised. Lucina just glared back.

"You should have listened to me," she hissed.

"Maybe I should, maybe I shouldn't," he snapped back. "I don't know!"

And couldn't Lucina relate with that. A quick look around, and she could tell that this couldn't hold. The bandits outnumbered the guards five to one, and with the bandits pouring out from the alleyways, that would only get worse.

"You need to find somewhere to regroup," Lucina said, ducking under a stray Elfire spell. "A building that will not catch fire, preferably."

"You think I don't know that?" the captain snapped, fending off a bandit mercenary. "The only place like that is the town hall. It's just a few streets away–but the townsfolk are holed up in there."

"If we die, what are the odds the bandits won't go for them next?" Lucina nodded behind her. "Order your men into a retreat."

"And how do you suggest that? We're packed in here tighter than cattle in a herd."

"We take the alleyways," Geralt said, poking his head between them.

The captain jumped, but Lucina just blinked. "You're alright," she said.

"It'll take a lot more than this to put me down." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, first rule of thieving is to avoid fights if you can–but the second rule is to always make sure to take fights to narrow spaces–it doesn't matter how many men you have if you can only fight one-on-one."

The captain frowned. "I don't know about that..."

Lucina turned to the captain. "Do as he says."

"He's one of them!"

"I'm a thief, not a bandit. Now do you want to get out of this in one piece or not?"

The guard scowled, but his shoulders slumped, and he let out a breath through his nose. "Into the alleyways, men!" he cried, waving his lance behind him. "Fall back!"

One by one, the guards grouped up and seeped through the alleys. The few bandits still making their way out attempted to fight back, but against trained guards and without their advantage in numbers, they fell swiftly to their lances. Lucina, the captain, and Geralt were the last to go, holding off the swarming bandits as they pushed through the alleys. As they slipped through, Geralt dragged over a pile of crates, obstructing the path and allowing them to press on.

As they spilled back out onto the street, Lucina could already feel the effects of the blood loss. Every step she took, she could feel the world sway, and she could see darkness creeping in from the edge of her vision. Her head felt much too light on her shoulders, then much too heavy, and she could feel it dragging her toward the ground, falling, falling–

Then, someone caught her.

"A little too early to take a nap, don'tcha think?"

Wearily, Lucina craned her head up to meet Anna's shining red eyes. "It's you," she said. "Why?"

"Well, my girls would never let me live it down if I didn't go back to check on you, and though Gregor won't admit it, he was worried for you too."

Lucina looked to the left, and sure enough, there was Gregor, looking down at the floor. "Gregor is not distraction. He will prove it to Marth."

"Let's get you back on your feet, hon." With a quick motion, Anna brought Lucina up to lean against a nearby wall, and with a tap of the heal staff in her hands, Lucina could feel the sluggishness dissipate from her head. Her stomach still hurt–she could feel the newly healed skin tug at her every time she turned–but for the time being, it would do.

As soon as she could stand on her own two feet, Lucina took the chance to look around. The road was mostly clear, a few bandits scattered about and engaged in combat with the guards–perhaps when Victor had heard where she was, he had brought most of them with him to support him. She caught sight of a few signs, too, so it was clear that this was some kind of business district. And there, at the end, she could see a big stone building, one that towered over the others at two stories tall, watching over the street through tall glass windows. The town hall.

"There!" Lucina said, though she probably had no need to. "Tell your men to head to there."

As the captain opened his mouth to shout the command, a war cry echoed through the street. Lucina glanced the other way just in time to see bandits pouring out onto the street.

"Go!" he said. "Back to the town hall, everyone!"

"No!" Lucina snapped. "Don't turn your backs to them."

The captain turned to her, scowling. "If you think you're a much better leader than I am, what do you think we should do?"

"Close ranks–it'll make it harder for them to surround us."

The captain looked like he wanted to protest. Lucina didn't blame him–at least in the future, she had the credibility of being Ylisse's Exalt. Here, she was a girl who had shown up out of nowhere and landed them in a heap of trouble.

Her eyes narrowed. Perhaps that was just what she needed.

Finally, the captain relented. "Close ranks!" he yelled, and the guards rushed out to form a defensive rank before them, lances extended. Against the bandit's axes, their weapons were quickly batted away, but the line held strong. An Elfire spell smashed into their ranks, and a few guards were knocked away. Acting fast, Lucina ducked between them, filling the gap herself, Anna and Gregor not far behind. Together, they forced the bandits away before they could pour through the opening.

An arrow whizzed past her head. What few archers the captain had fired a volley from the safety of the town hall, and as the bandits scrambled for cover Lucina motioned towards the open town hall door.

"Run inside, while they're distracted!"

Perhaps they might not have listened to her, had they had the time to see who was speaking, but in the chaos, the guards heeded her instructions, fleeing behind the sturdy stone walls of the town hall. The few bandit mages that slipped through the volley of arrows slung spells after them, but they fizzled harmlessly against the walls.

Just as Lucina was about to follow them inside, however, she heard a voice break through. "Oh no you don't!"

Lucina looked back. Standing at the front of the line, staring down the archers as they hurled arrow after arrow at him, was Victor. He drew his hand back, and Lucina caught a flash of red of the short axe in his hand before he hurled it forward.

Lucina ducked. The axe sailed over her head. She heard a thunk behind her. Craning to look over her shoulder, she saw the captain, eyes wide and staring down at the axe buried in his chest.

"Perhaps I should have listened to you after all," he muttered. Then, he collapsed on the floor. A wooden mug spilled out from one of his pockets, rolling against the floor before coming to a stop against a nearby wall.

Cursing, Lucina slammed the door shut behind her before any more bandits could get through. Anna was already by the captain's side before Lucina could reach him, but when Lucina gave her an inquisitive look, the woman shook her head.

"He's dead, darling," she said.

Lucina's shoulders sagged. No one spoke. She saw a few guards exchange uneasy glances.

At last, the silence was broken with a wail. "The captain's dead?!" a woman cried.

Lucina blinked, and it was then that she noticed they were not alone. Behind the guards, she could make out a dozen or so townsfolk, huddled against the wall, afraid. She recognized a few–the fruit vendor, the people she had saved in the stable. And as the woman's panicked cry settled over the crowd, she could hear murmurs begin to spread.

"What do we do?"

"The captain's dead?"

"Oh Naga, are we next?!"

Slowly, Lucina dragged herself to her feet. "No," she said, loudly, clearly. "No, we are not."

Beside her, one of the guards snapped. "We might as well be! With the captain dead, what are we supposed to do?"

"We fight."

Another guard this time stepped up to confront her. "I don't know if you're blind or stupid, but just look at us! They outnumber us ten to one! We can't fight them all off!"

"We don't have to. We just have to fight them off long enough to survive."

"We are not going to survive this, miss!"

Lucina paused. She gave him a good, long look before she said, "What's your name, soldier?"

The man gave her a look. "Samwick. My name is Samwick," he replied.

"Do you have family here, Samwick?"

"I do."

Lucina scanned over the crowd of terrified townsfolk behind them. Her eyes roamed over each person there, wondering which one of them was this man's family.

"How big is your family, Samwick?"

"I've a son. Expecting a second."

Then, she turned to him, eyes steeled. "Do you want to see your sixth child, Samwick?"

"Miss, we're not going to–"

"Please, answer my question."

The man swallowed. "I do."

Lucina grasped his shoulders and squeezed firmly. "Then grasp that desire of yours, Samwick. Take it with both hands, because that desire is more than enough to see that you live to see another day." Then, she turned to the rest of the guards, to the rest of the townspeople. "I've traveled through hell and back to see my family, and here I stand. As long as my heart still beats, the hope I have that I shall see them again will never die. As long as you can still draw a breath, I should hope that you shall carry that same hope with you, because as long as you have hope by your side, I promise you, you shall live to see the sun rise tomorrow."

She could feel everyone's eyes on her now, silent, intent. No one protested, no one argued. She had as good as made them an oath that she would see every single one of them alive by the end of the day. And... though she was not Morgan, she could feel the inner workings of her mind beginning to form a plan to do just that.

Lucina closed her eyes. Took a deep breath.

Once the words left her mouth, there would be no going back.

As soon as she opened them, her eyes landed on Samwick, the guard to her left weakly clutching an iron lance. She looked the weapon up and down, before she asked, "This town hall was built to act as a stronghold in case of something like this, was it not? Do they have any more weapons in the store room?"

Samwick nodded. "We do."

"What about javelins? Do you have any in the back?"

"I... I think we do, yeah."

"Then I want everyone here without a weapon to grab one from the store room and sneak out through the windows on the second floor onto the rooftops around us." Then she scanned over the townspeople in the back. "And I mean everyone."

Beside her, Geralt stepped in and cleared his throat. "I don't mean to rain on your parade or anything, but they've got us surrounded. They'll be watching every exit to make sure we don't leave, not until they're ready to storm inside here."

Lucina tilted her head. "I've got a plan for that. Until then, go with them–on my signal, have them hurl as many javelins down onto the street." Then, she turned to the guards. "The rest of you, come with me."

"Come with you? Where?" one of the guards piped up.

"Where else? Out."

The guard blanched. "They'll kill us where we stand!"

"I'm willing to bet they won't. Victor wants me dead, and he wants me dead personally. The moment I leave, his eyes will be on me."

"That won't solve the fact that his men will still be watching the exits," Geralt said.

Lucina gave him a coy look. "I wouldn't bet on that."

"Are you feeling lucky today?" Anna asked from her right.

"I might just be." Lucina glanced outside. The sun had gone down a lot more–not enough to hide Victor and his bandits, and not enough to hide anyone who came out the front door, but enough to obscure the rooftops in shadow. Unless they were being watched intently, it would be easy to miss anyone climbing out onto them. Lucina was willing to bet they were being watched right now–but not for long.

Nodding her head, Lucina dragged the door open. She held her hand outside, and when she didn't see anyone attempt to fire a spell at her, she stepped outside.

As she had predicted, there was Victor, standing at the front, bandits behind him, weapons glistening, all of them tensed for an assault they had been preparing to launch. As soon as they saw her, they tensed, but Victor held a hand up for them to wait.

"Given up yet, dearie?" he snarled. "Come over here, and I'll make sure you die quickly–more quickly than those inside, anyway."

Lucina huffed. "Funny. I thought I'd be the one saying that to you."

That got a response from him. He frowned, confused, before he burst out laughing. "And where was all this bravado before? You? Kill us? In case you haven't noticed, I've got an army at my beck and call. How many men do you have?"

"More than you."

Now, all Victor's bandits were laughing. Between laughs, Victor said, "And where is this army you believe you have, huh?"

"They can't be more than a few minute's flight out from here."

"Flight?"

Lucina crossed her arms. "I thought you were smarter than this, bandit. Don't you know? When Pegasus Knights more, they don't ride–they fly."

Slowly, the laughter died down. The smile dwindled on Victor's face, and his brows pulled down. "Pegasus Knights? Who do you think you are, the Exalt of Ylisse?"

Slowly, Lucina reached up to her face. Her fingers closed around her eyepatch. "I am."

This is it.

Then, she ripped it off, and even in the dying light of the sunset, her brand, emblazoned on her bright blue eyes, shone for all to see.

"My name," she yelled, "is Exalt Emmeryn Lowell of Ylisse–and these people are under my protection!"

Chapter Text

For a moment, no one spoke. Far in the back, she could hear one of the bandits burst into laughter. And it was ridiculous, wasn't it? Imagine, of all the people, the Exalt herself would just happen to be here?

Except, Victor could see the brand, her brand, clearly on display. And he wasn't laughing.

"The Exalt? Here?" he hissed.

One of the bandits beside him took a step back. "That's not possible."

"The Pegasus Knights are on their way? What are we going to do?" another said.

"They'll kill us all!" said a third.

"No, they won't!" Victor said, raising his voice over the rest. Slowly, he aimed his axe at Lucina. "Not if I kill you before they get here."

Lucina narrowed her eyes. "Are you willing to gamble on that?"

Victor's face twisted into a snarl. A roar ripped itself from his throat, and he charged.

Then Lucina snapped her fingers, and javelins came raining down. Had she not drawn their attention, perhaps they would have noticed that they were coming from the rooftops, but under the darkness of the incoming night, they might as well have been coming from anywhere.

"It's the Pegasus Knights!" a bandit cried out. "They're here!"

Now, if there was anything Lucina had learned from all her years of leading the Shepherds, it was that morale was a fickle thing. Men fought harder when they believed they could win, or if they believed they had comrades at their side. When panic set in, however, it spread like wildfire. Panic could tear even the most cohesive groups apart, and if the leader could not rein it in, such a fracture could spell the difference between victory and loss.

Perhaps Victor could have reined them in, had he the chance. Lucina did not grant him such a mercy. The moment she saw bandits begin to flee, she was on him, his steel axe the only thing between her blade and his neck.

Victor snarled, and he turned to his fleeing men. "Where do you think you're–"

Lucina twisted her sword away and lunged for his heart. Victor ducked away from her strike, but before he could open his mouth, she forced him to block an overhead strike.

"Men! Forward!" she cried, and with a shout, the guards rushed after her.

Had the bandits been paying attention, maybe they would have noticed how the javelins never found their mark, how they all tumbled and fell flat against the cobblestone road. How lucky for her, then, that their backs were turned, too concerned about running from the Pegasus Knights as the guards fired arrows into their fleeing forms and ran them through.

Lucina pulled her attention back to Victor just in time to see him attempt to pull away. Lucina followed him with a thrust of her sword. He deflected it, but Lucina followed through with a kick to his face. He stumbled away, clutching his jaw. Again, Lucina stepped after him, her sword raised to strike.

Overhead, left strike, thrust, left strike, overhead. Lucina watched him parry swing after swing, barely keeping up with her relentless onslaught, could see his hands slipping from the handle as sweat began to run down his face. Her sword, though not as heavy as his axe, could swing through the air much faster, giving him no chance to either attack or move away.

Beside her, she could see some of the other bandits begin to turn back and attempt to defend themselves, but scattered and panicked as they were, what paltry defenses they could mount were quickly overwhelmed by the guards' sudden rush. These same men who were cowering for their lives only moments before were now tearing through bandits like nothing. She'd rallied these men together, she had given them hope that they could win–and they were winning.

She knew she wasn't her father, but maybe, just maybe...

She could do this.

Victor wrenched his axe to the side, forcing Lucina's blade to the ground. She pulled back and swung down on him again. He raised his axe to block. This time, however, his fingers slipped. Victor grasped it before it could drop to the floor. For a second, his guard slipped.

A second was more than enough. Lucina's sword soared through the air, flew over his axe, and buried itself in the bandit's collar bone.

Were she wielding Falchion, she could have ripped him in half with one, clean swipe. As it was, her sword cut an inch into his bone and stuck.

Lucina cursed. She tried to tear it free, but the sword would not budge. She did not notice Victor's foot on her chest until it was too late; with a roar, he kicked her away, ripping the sword out from him and sending her sprawling a few feet away.

"Bandits!" he shouted, grasping at his shoulder. "To me!"

This time, a few of the bandits responded. Pulling away from the guards, they gathered before Victor and bared their weapons. Her chance had just slipped through her fingers.

Quietly, Geralt slipped in beside her, an iron sword in his hands. "So, what's the plan, Your Grace?" he asked, lingering on the title for just a moment longer than necessary.

Lucina only paused to shoot him a brief glare before she said, "How are the people on the rooftops doing?"

"Badly. Even I can throw better than them, and I've never touched a lance in my life."

"As long as the bandits don't turn around, it's fine."

"And if they do?"

Lucina's gaze flit to the bandits, to the brief glimpse of Victor she caught behind them. "Victor is the one responsible for organizing the bandits. If we do not kill him now, he'll rein them in, and our advantage is lost. Do you think you could help cut me a path to him?"

"You sure you don't want me to sneak behind there and take him out for you?"

"No. This is my mess. I shall make sure my clean-up is thorough."

Geralt shrugged. "Whatever. You're the Grace."

With a roar, Lucina lunged after Victor. She heard footsteps fall in line next to her, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Geralt at her side, flanked by five guards. She hadn't even given them orders to follow–they'd come after her of their own accord.

The first wave of bandits, only four of them, could never have expected such a vicious assault. Lucina only glimpsed their terrified expression before the guards speared them through, the paltry defense crumpled in an instant.

The second wave formed before Victor could give the order. The seven of them making a beeline for their leader was hardly subtle, so the element of surprise couldn't have lasted; a shame that only three of the bandits had bothered turning around this time. To their credit, they managed to deflect the guards' spears with their axes, saving them from a quick death. Then Lucina slashed across, and the three bandits fell to the floor.

With one more stride, Lucina closed the distance between her and Victor. She raised her sword to the left and swung. Victor raised his axe to block it. Too late, he realized it was a feint, and Lucina landed a cut across his left arm. He howled and slashed back at her. The brutal, wild swing forced Lucina to duck away. Her back slammed into a nearby guard, startling them both. Victor took the chance to slip away again.

Or, he would have, had Geralt not slipped between them. He flicked his sword up. A red line opened across Victor's bare chest. The bandit shrieked. More bandits stopped. Geralt ducked back and aimed a stab through the bandit's leg. Perhaps if he'd been a moment faster, he would have succeeded–but perhaps if he'd been a moment faster, he would have lost his head.

Before he could follow through, a flash of movement caught his eye. An axe, over his head. Geralt cursed and ducked back. The axe passed by his face so close, he could see his breath mist his reflection upon the blade. Then the blade kept going, past his neck, and down the front of his chest.

Lucina was beside him before he could hit the ground, cursing herself as she watched Victor slither back into the crowd.

"Geralt! Are you alright?" she asked, her hand on his back.

He looked down at his hands, slick with blood. It was the first thing she'd noticed too. Her eyes flicked to his chest, to the long red gash running across it.

The long red gash that was quickly closing, blue light dancing at the edges. Lucina glanced over her shoulder. Anna's grinning face stared back.

"Miss me, hon?" she asked, heal staff in her hands. "I said I'd keep you alive–I didn't mean quite literally then, but I guess that's just the way the money falls."

Lucina blinked, not sure how to feel about it. She'd hated this woman for so long for how slippery, how greedy she'd been, but to have her fighting at her side... well, anything to even their odds. "Thank you," she said, and she turned back to where Victor had disappeared, to the rapidly growing ranks of bandits gathering before them.

Over the chaotic sound of combat, over the crackling fires and screech of grinding steel, Victor screamed, "Kill her! Kill her!" a finger pointed at Lucina's direction.

Her eyes narrowed, and her brand glowed orange in the blaze of the town burning around her. The javelins had stopped raining from the sky. Though many of the bandits had already fled too far to come back, enough had stayed and listened to Victor's call. She could see murmurs pass between them, could see their eyes searching for the Pegasus Knights that did not exist. Sense had returned to them, and now that it had, their numbers were still greater than those of the guards, if only just such. She could see confidence beginning to resurface, could see their eyes light with bloodlust of a victory they were so sure was close enough to taste. Against such vicious foes of such number, defeat seemed almost insurmountable.

Just another day as a Shepherd, she supposed.

"People of Ylisse!" she yelled, her voice carried by the hot winds curling smoke into the black night sky. "I swear upon my grace that you shall live to see tomorrow!" Her sword pointed down at the bandits before them, and a single word passed through her lips. "Charge!"

It was just one word, just one moment, yet the guards took up her yell and stretched it on, carrying it with them as they crashed against the bandits. The bandits, not expecting to meet such resistance, faltered.

Lucina hurled herself at the bandits, a twirling cyclone of steel and death. Slashing, swinging, felling bandits left and right–a part of her could certainly see the appeal of work as an assassin. It was much easier to kill people when they could not put up a fight.

By the time they recovered, ten more bandits lay dead on the floor.

And recover they did. Suddenly, Lucina found her strikes blocked, her swings halted. The bandit holding her sword in place sneered, mocking her, as if telling her she would step no further.

Change of plans it was, then.

Lucina drew her sword back and ducked away. The bandit stepped after her, axe raised. Lucina didn't bother raising her sword to block. Before he could react, another bandit tumbled into him. He hadn't seen the guard next to her drive him back–she had.

In one swift motion, Lucina and the guard thrust forward, spearing them through. Lucina shoved her way through before their bodies hit the floor.

At last, she caught a glimpse of Victor–just one more line of bandits between him and her, one more line before she could end this. Lucina lunged. Three bandits stepped forward to intercept her, diverting her blade into the ground. She danced away from a swing for her stomach, but when she tried to counter, a fourth bandit stepped in and blocked her slash. To her surprise, none of the guards stepped forward to assist her.

She looked back. The other guards were still busy with the line of bandits behind her. Somehow, she'd pushed ahead. She could pull back.

But victory was just within reach.

Lucina's boot caught the bandit's stomach. He tumbled back into the arms of another with a grunt. She turned to the remaining too and charged at them before their comrades could recover.

One slashed at her left. She blocked it, only for the other to come down from her right. Lucina wrenched her sword aside, driving the first's axe into the path of the second. The bandits tore their axes apart to face her. Too late, they noticed her sword weaving through.

One bandit dropped dead. The other cried out in despair. He swung for her wildly. Lucina jumped back, then again when a second nearly swept her off her feet. The other two bandits had already recovered, jumping upon her like wolves. Again and again, they slashed at her, Lucina barely keeping away. Frantically, she searched for an opening, but every time one would miss her, the others would cover them with another attack. There would be no opening–not unless she made her own.

Oh, to hell with it, she thought, and planted her feet into the ground.

The first swing, she caught with the hilt of her blade and forced to the ground. The second, she deflected to the right. The third, she ducked under, and returned with a thrust through his chest.

As the second bandit crumpled to the floor, the third and fourth charged again, swinging at her from opposite sides. One from the left, one from the right, there was no way for her to block this time. She stepped back.

Her foot caught on something–a corpse, one of the bandit's she'd killed. Her heart jumped to her throat, the world spun around her. Suddenly, she was staring up at the sky–that, and a pair of bandits who wanted her dead.

They raised their axes. Lucina brought up her sword to block, but even she knew that wouldn't be enough.

Someone roared from just outside her vision, and to her surprise, Gregor charged in to protect her. The first, he shoved out of the way with a shoulder tackle. The second, he caught his swing on the hilt of her blade.

Lucina could only stare, shocked. "Gregor?!"

"Go!" he hissed. "Kill leader. End attack. Save village."

Lucina wasn't stupid enough to take that for granted. Leaping to her feet, Lucina rolled under a fifth bandit who was about to join the fight, and past the last of the bandits.

At last, she found herself face to face again with Victor.

"No!" he cried. "Stay away!"

"You should have done the same!" she hissed. "I'm ending this, right here, right now!"

Glancing back at the bandits behind her busy fighting for their lives, Victor yelled, "Bandits! Fall ba–"

Lucina lunged, cutting him off as she forced him to block an overhead swing. He stumbled back, swinging blindly to force her away. Lucina just jumped over it. He managed to barely bring his axe back to block a stab at his face, but how long could he keep up?

She slashed his left. He ducked beneath. She thrust at his legs. He pushed it to her right. Lucina feined a slash to his face, before she slashed for his legs. This time, he twisted his axe to block both. Lucina let him, using his axe as a pivot to kick the side of his face.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucina noticed movement in the buildings, a flash of red. The mages. With all the burning buildings around them, how could she forget about them? Briefly, she worried that they would open fire, but surely they would never take such a risk when there were so many other bandits around?

The moment of distraction cost her. A sharp pain lanced through her chest, and Lucina staggered back, forced away by a swift kick.

"Burn her!" Victor screamed, pointing at her.

Or, he could do that.

Lucina only had enough time to curse that little oversight before seven Elfire spells came hurtling toward her. Fire, hot like melted wax, splashed against the cobblestone, scorching against her boots. Lucina ducked back, hoping that the cover of the battle behind her would make them hesitate to fire again. To her relief, she saw the mages lower their hands.

"What are you waiting for!" Victor howled. "Burn her alive!"

"But Victor!" one of the mages said. "We'll hit the others!"

"I don't care! I want her dead!"

"How many more of you need to die just to kill one stupid girl? One? Two?"

"She's just one girl!" another mage said.

"One girl?" Victor's face twitched. "She killed my brother! I don't care how many of you have to die to kill her–No amount of you worthless rats could ever compare to him. The best you can do is make sure she–" he jabbed a finger in her direction, "–lies dead at my feet!"

"But Victor–" With a howl, he struck the offending mage down. The others stared back, shocked. Victor turned to the rest with a snarl. "Anyone else?!"

The mages exchanged a look. They hesitated. Then, they raised their hands, and cast another wave of Elfire spells.

Searing red hot magic splashed over their ranks. Guard and bandit alike screamed in pain, the heat searing painful burns through leather and metal armor alike. Lucina held her arms over her face, keeping most of the magic away from her face, but even then, she could feel her sleeves begin to turn to ash.

She couldn't stay here, not if it meant getting pelted with spells. There was only one way to end this–by running through the fire.

Holding her hands over her head, Lucina broke into a sprint across the battlefield. She could feel more spells strike her, splashing against her arms, her chest, searing burns running across her body. Lucina just grit her teeth and pushed forward, past the fire, past the pain. Through the searing pain, she heard a gasp. Her eyes closed, she reached out, and her fingers grasped something. A piece of armor.

Lucina pulled it in front of her to protect her from the fire magic. When she opened her eyes, she found Victor, grasping at her hand around his neck. He wrenched her hand away, raised his axe, and charged.

Lucina's sword nearly wrenched from her grasp when she moved to block it. Had he gotten stronger? No, she realized, the burns on her arms tearing at her flesh. It's that I've gotten weaker.

Were she at full strength, she would be able to weave between his wild swings with ease, but when she had to fight her buckling legs with every step back, mounting a counteroffensive was nearly impossible.

He swung for her head. She managed to duck under, but when she tried to take a stab at his exposed stomach, her own flared up in pain, forcing her to push back with her hands to prevent herself doubling over. He stomped for her feet. She rolled aside, but the raw skin digging against the sand felt like a thousand knives clinging to her side, sending a jolt up her arm that nearly lost her her sword.

Her eyes flicked back to the battle behind her, the guards still engaging what was left of the bandits. Somehow, the Elfire barrage had evened their numbers, and with their advantage lost, the bandits were dropping like wyverns out of the sky. If she held off just a bit longer, the guards would be by her side.

Just a bit longer–how mocking just four small words could sound.

One last surge of energy found her, and Lucina charged at Victor, sword raised. Too late, she noticed his axe coming back around for a swing.

She'd already come too close to be cut by the blade, and thank Naga for that. Victor was still so much stronger than her, though, and it was with that strength that he slammed the haft into her, knocking all the air out of her and sending her to the ground.

Groaning, Lucina tried to push herself back to her feet. Her arm gave out the first time. The second, Victor's boot kicked her hands out beneath her, and she collapsed back to the ground.

"Not so tough, aren't you?" Victor sneered as he kicked her sword away. "Really, I don't know what I was so scared for. I've never lost a fight before–it's in my name." He kicked her in the face, grinning as his strike sent her flying back a foot, skidding against the ground. "Victor, the Exalt slayer. The man who freed Ylisse. That's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it, Vincent?"

He paused. Then frowned. "Oh. That's right. Vincent is dead." Sneering, he leaned over Lucina's gasping form. "Maybe if he were here, he'd tell me to let you live. Tell me you're worth more as a slave." Then he tilted his head. "Such a shame, then, that someone had to go and kill him."

"I'll tell you what's a shame–what I'm going to have to do to that face of yours."

Victor blinked. He looked up, just in time to receive a heal staff to the face.

As he tottered away, clutching his face and howling in pain, Anna smirked. "Well, not that it was much of a face to begin with." Turning to Lucina, still trying to push herself off the floor, she said, "Relax. We've got your back."

"We?" Lucina asked, though she supposed she needn't have. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw both Geralt and Gregor leap onto Victor. The bandit roared, swinging left and right. Geralt ducked out of the way. Gregor stumbled back. Lucina didn't think either of them could keep up for long.

"I've got to get back in there," Lucina muttered.

"Already on it."

A blue glow surrounded Lucina's body. Already she could feel her wounds beginning to heal, and her strength returning. As she watched the battle before her, however, she saw Victor land a kick on Gregor, the slower of the two. He drew back, slammed the hilt into Gregor's stomach, and turned around to catch Geralt's stab on the handle of his axe as Gregor doubled over.

"Do you think you could be a little faster?" Lucina asked, a little urgently.

In front of her, Anna sighed. "Do you think I'm working this slow on purpose? I may drive a mean bargain, but even I know when to play nice. I sold the last of my Mend staves this morning. This is as much healing as you're going to get."

Lucina opened her mouth to give a snappy reply, when she saw Victor catch Geralt by the leg, hurl him over his shoulder, and slam him into the ground. The bandit scowled, watching Geralt groan and writhe on the ground, before he turned around and charged at Anna.

"Look out!" was what came out Lucina's mouth instead.

Too late. By the time Anna turned around, Victor was already upon her, axe raised. The woman raised her heal staff to block. Victor's axe snapped it in half. Tossing the two halves of the staff aside, Anna reached for her sword. Victor's boot snapped out, knocking it out of her hand.

"You!" he howled. "You stole my kill! You'll pay for that!"

The Anna of her time would have beaten the bandit handedly, one of the more formidable Shepherds in her own right. As Lucina saw the woman duck under a wild axe swing, she could plainly see how much this Anna was not her.

She needed to help her. Lucina's eyes snapped to the woman's sword, still laid in the dirt. She reached for it.

An Elfire spell blasted it away.

As if suddenly revitalized now that Victor was no longer blocking their line of sight, the bandit mages spurred into action once again, pelting her with spell after spell. Digging her fingers into the ground, holding back pained cries every time she was struck, it was all Lucina could do not to be bowled over by the sheer force of magical attacks.

Lucina needed to help her. She needed to save her, before she got hit, or worse, but the sword was just out of reach.

Another Elfire spell slammed into her side. Her teeth ground together. The pain struck her so hard, in through one side and out the other, that for a moment, she thought it had blown a hole straight through her. The red pooling at her hands did not help, staining the white handle of the heal staff against her fingers.

The heal staff.

Lucina's hands closed around it. With a roar, she hurled herself to her feet.

Another Elfire spell smashed into her front. And another. Lucina staggered back with a cry. She planted her feet into the ground as the third struck her, jolting her to the side, but her feet held her upright. She raised her arms in front of her to catch the fourth. The fifth and sixth seared her skin, but the surprise had worn off, leaving nothing but the desire to see this through.

Lucina lunged.

Just in time to see Anna trip. To see Victor pull back the axe. To see Victor cleave her in half.

"No!"

Victor turned, because of course he would. Lucina had all but screamed into his ear. His eyes widened, surprised one moment. On the ground, the next, pinned between her legs.

He was stronger than her. His skin was unblemished by the countless burns peeling away at hers. A moment was all it would take for him to hurl her off.

Then the staff came down.

The staff, splintered where Victor had snapped it in two, buried into the bandit's throat so quickly, it seemed to take a moment for the bandit to realize he'd been stabbed. He opened his mouth to speak. When all he could muster was a bloodied gurgle, he looked down.

Weakly, his hands reached up to grasp at the white shaft lodged in his throat. Lucina pushed harder. He gasped, struggled, and fell still.

Lucina waited for him to move again. For him to jump at her, revealing that he'd only pretended to play dead. If he were a Risen, perhaps he would have.

But nothing happened.

Pushing herself to her feet, Lucina was vaguely aware of the guards behind her finally breaking free, the last of the bandits left behind slain. In front of her, the bandit mages threw down their tomes, surrendering. She paid them no mind.

Slowly, she made her way to where Anna lay, gasping for breath. As soon as she noticed her approaching, the woman turned her head to give her another one of her million dollar smiles.

Funny enough, she could not find it in herself to hate that smile.

You would think that, after seeing so much of it, she would have more to say to comfort the dying. Maybe one last word to assure them that, no, they had not died for nothing.

Now, the only thing she could muster was a weak, "Hello."

Anna smirked. "Hey," she replied. "Did we win?" She coughed. "Who am I kidding, of course we won."

The words Lucina had been about to say died in her throat. "I guess we did." Then, Lucina paused. "What if we hadn't?"

"Well, no one ever had this much money without knowing how to place her bets right." Anna winced, then looked down at the gaping wound across her stomach. "Most of the time, anyway."

"Place your bets? On me, you mean?"

"Who else?" Anna coughed. Lucina could tell she was getting weaker with each breath she took, but with the broken heal staff in her hands, there was little she could do about it.

"Listen," Anna said, pulling Lucina's attention back to her. "I don't know what you've got going on. I don't know why you've got that look to you like your head's got a million dollar bounty on it, and I know you've got no love for me, but you're gonna listen to what I've got to say. This might be the last time I'll ever get to say it; I really wasn't lying when I said you were gonna go places."

"You... you weren't?"

"Of course not. Out of all the people I've met, you're one in a million, Marth–if that even is your real name. You think anyone else would be able to rally these people like that?"

Glumly, Lucina looked away. "My father would have."

"And where was he?"

Dead. Lucina bit her lip and remained silent.

Anna sighed, and her head fell back onto the road. She took a deep, shuddering breath, before she said, softly, "Maybe your father's a million times better than you. But you know what? You're a million times better than everyone else, and you're all we've got."

"I'm not enough," Lucina said.

Suddenly, Anna grabbed onto her collar and looked her dead in the eye. Her voice, faltering and weak, found strength, and she said, "I know a winning horse when I see one. I'm betting everything I have on you, and you're going to make it all the way, you hear me? You're not going to let me down, and you're not going to let them down, aren't you?"

Lucina's mouth opened. No words came out. What could she say to that? What should she say to that?

After a moment, she swallowed. Then, she said, "I won't let you down."

"Good." Anna's fingers slipped from her collar, and the woman fell back. "I'll count on it," she said, closing her eyes.

Then she said no more.

Slowly, painfully, Lucina pushed herself to her feet. She could feel someone place a hand on her shoulder–Geralt, from what she could see. She didn't bother to reply, her eyes fixed on the body of the woman before her.

Anna. A woman she'd respected. A woman she'd hated. A woman who believed in her. A part of Lucina wondered if, maybe, just maybe, her own Anna, the one who had betrayed her, had believed in her too.

They were different people, and yet they had felt so similar. The same face, the same way they spoke, the same beliefs. And now they were both dead, leaving behind nothing but memories and loss. No one had been left to remember her Anna, aside from the Shepherds. At least this Anna had her daughters.

Lucina blinked.

Oh, Naga. How was she going to tell her daughters?

Chapter Text

Lucina had buried many people in her time. Laurent had always insisted it was a waste of time and called her foolish, but it did not feel right to leave the bodies of their dear friends and comrades out to rot.

On a good day, they could dig shallow graves in the first field they found. More often than not, however, they could offer the dead nothing more than a large pit to dump them all in.

It was during times like these that the Shepherds looked to her for hope, for the assurance that all this misery and death meant something. And she had told them, time and time again, that they would make things right–that once they had reached the past, everything would be better.

Staring down at Anna's body as the gravedigger filled in the last of the graves beside the town, she had to wonder if she could still convince herself that was true.

It was the first burial she'd overseen since coming back, and yet it was so much like the countless others she had ordered back in the future that, were it not for Anna's daughters silently watching beside her, she could believe that nothing had changed at all.

As the gravedigger finally moved to cover Anna's grave, Lucina glanced around, and for the first time, she noticed how empty it was. There were a few others standing around, mourning their own loved ones, but there was almost no one at Anna's grave. The Annas were vast and powerful as they were wealthy, but no one truly knew the Secret Seller, so no one would come to say goodbye.

Lucina never thought she would feel sorry for the greedy merchant.

And yet here she was.

At last, the gravedigger shoveled the last of the dirt onto the hole, filling it up completely. He pat the top of the grave once, then he left.

Lucina waited a minute more, before she turned to Anna's daughters.

She hadn't known Anna–at least, not as well as she'd thought–so awkward could not begin to describe what she felt, watching Anna's daughters stand around the mound of dirt that marked her grave. At the top was a wooden post with the name, "Anna," scrawled onto it–the town's cleric had been kind enough to offer them that much, along with her condolences.

Now, the five of them stood alone. The girls shuffled uncomfortably around, no one sure what to do.

So Lucina cleared her throat. "Do any of you have anything?"

Anna's daughters exchanged looks. Then, to her surprise, the youngest of them stepped forward, knelt down, and placed her teddy bear against the post.

"Take care," she muttered.

As she stepped away, the second youngest took her place. Reaching up, she unwrapped the scarf around her neck, and wound it at the base of the post.

"Keep momma warm," she said, tucking the bear inside the scarf's folds.

The second eldest was next. Beside the scarf, she placed a bag of caramels. "I hope you like it," she said.

The eldest daughter stepped forward. She glanced over at Lucina, before she knelt down and placed a handful of flowers by the post. "I love you," she whispered.

And then, all four of them turned to Lucina. Lucina swallowed. Her hands clasped around the broken heal staff in her hands.

Every step felt like a step through mud, dragging her feet down as she drew closer and closer. Gently, Lucina laid the heal staff at the base of the post. She took a breath in.

"I'm sorry," she said, soft enough that Anna's daughters couldn't hear. "Sorry for never getting to know you better. Had I done so, perhaps we could have become friends. Perhaps I could understand why you left us for dead. I don't think I can fault you for that any more–after all, aren't we all just trying to survive?"

Lucina let out a long breath. Then, she turned to Anna's daughters. "Come on. It's time to head back."

No one moved. The youngest sobbed into her sister's sleeves.

As much as Lucina wanted to let them stay, the sky rumbled overhead. A fat raindrop splashed on her forehead, trickling down the side of her face and over her left eye. Lucina raised a hand to wipe it away. Her hand came away more wet than she'd expected.

"It's time to go," she said again.

This time, the other three nodded. The oldest grabbed the youngest by the arm, and together, they shambled back toward town.

Lucina watched them go, and a tired sigh escaped her lips. It was never easy, comforting children, telling them everything would be alright–how could she, when, to them, their entire world was falling apart?

But they would be fine. The Annas were numerous as they were wealthy–chances were, there was another one in the next town over. If she sent out a message, she was sure another would pop up within half a day to pick up the girls, and life would continue as normal. They would have another guardian to take care of them, one exactly like their last, and they would learn to move on.

Cruel as it was to say, that was just how things were. One day, the world feels like it's falling apart. The next day, it is carrying on without you.

Lucina needed to get to Ylisse and make sure Aunt Emmeryn was okay as soon as possible, and put an end to this silly civil war nonsense. She couldn't afford to be slowed down by Anna's girls.

And yet, as she moved to catch up to the four girls, why did the thought weigh so heavily on her mind?

"They're not taking it well."

Lucina glanced up to give Geralt a look. "I can tell," she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Annas gathered on the bed. One of them was laid down–the other three dangled their legs off the bed. All of them were silent.

They had returned to the inn. The window was still broken from where she and Geralt had made their escape, but everything else had stayed the same–the bed, the table, the two chairs where Anna and Lucina had just been talking to each other earlier yesterday.

"You're not gonna tell them things'll be alright?" Geralt asked with a frown.

Lucina paused. "I don't know if it will be," she said. "Besides, it's not as if I'm their mother."

"Aren't you?" Geralt said, and he gave her a confused look. "It sounded like their mom wanted you to look after them."

A long breath passed through Lucina's lips. "Only for now. I'm afraid I'm much too busy."

A stillness settled between all of them. Another Anna laid down on the bed. The rain spilled through the window and pattered against the floor for what seemed to be an eternity.

Finally, Geralt said, "I lost my parents when my little brother was only a year old."

Lucina hummed. Gaius had never talked about his parents, so it made sense. "You seem to have done rather well for yourself."

"Maybe," Geralt said, shrugging, "but sometimes, I wonder if I would've turned out different if I had someone to show me the ropes." He motioned to Anna's daughters, still on the bed. "From what I know about the Secret Sellers, they travel a lot. These girls likely don't have any friends. You're all they got."

Blinking, Lucina sank back in the chair.

You're all we've got, Lucina. She could hear them now, see the weary, hopeful faces of the Shepherds, of her friends, looking to her like she was the light that could pierce through the Fell Dragon's shadow. It hadn't filled her with much confidence then. It still didn't now.

Her eyes flit back to the sword in the corner of the room. Anna's sword, the one Victor had knocked aside in their fight. A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind. It was all so noisy, the silence around her making it feel louder than it truly was.

The chair scraped against the wooden floor as she got to her feet. "Please watch over them," Lucina said to Geralt. "I need a moment to myself."

Taking Anna's sword and strapping it to her hip, she turned around and slipped quietly out the door.

Late.

Staring into her reflection as she strolled through the street, it was the only thought that had managed to claw its way to the top of her head.

She had been too late to save Anna. She could not be too late to save Aunt Emmeryn. She refused to even entertain the thought. Everything hinged on Aunt Emmeryn's death–her assassination in the future had sparked the Plegia-Ylisse war that had led to the end. And if she died even earlier this time...

She would not be late. Not again.

She clenched her hands, reveling in the slick feeling of rain running down her palms.

She could not afford distractions like this. The rain pouring down her head had helped clear it, and now that she was standing here, soaking wet, she could decide, once and for all, that she would stay with the Annas until a relative arrived to take them away. She had no need to tie herself to them, no matter what Geralt said–and what did she care what a thief told her? She was here for one reason, and one reason alone. To save the future. Anyone else she met on her path was irrelevant. What did she care if they died? Her sole focus was her family. No one else.

Lucina clutched her head and groaned. That felt wrong to say. Her father would have left no one behind–he'd have sacrificed himself before he left anyone behind. It was one of the many reasons why everyone else had adored him so much.

But it was this wandering around that had made things as bad as they were. She hadn't been able to stamp out this civil war, or been able to see it coming at all. She needed to get her priorities in order... but leaving Anna's daughters on their own still felt so wrong. Anna had, after all, as good as left them in her care, and as Geralt had said, she was all they had left.

Oh Gods, what am I to do?

Someone bumped into her. Lucina jumped and turned around.

The boy behind her bowed and apologized before she could. Frankly, it was probably her fault–she shouldn't have stood in the middle of the road like that. As she looked down at him, however, she couldn't help but feel she'd met this boy before.

"You shouldn't be outside," she told him. "You'll catch a cold."

The boy shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I won't!"

Sighing as she returned the sword to her hip, she folded her arms across her chest. "You will if you stay out in the rain. Won't your parents be worried?"

The boy hummed, thinking long and hard about it. "Maybe. Why?"

"You should go home, then."

"You can't tell me what to do," the boy said, sticking out his tongue.

"I can't," Lucina replied, "but if the sun comes out tomorrow, you don't want to have to stay inside because you got sick today, would you?"

"I guess not."

"So do you think you could go home?"

The boy kicked against the road, splashing water from the puddles forming at their feet everywhere. "Fine," he said after a moment. Then he looked at her. "Can you come with me?"

Lucina would have liked to say no, but... it wasn't as if she had anything else to do. Plus, it would help take her mind off the more difficult thoughts at hand, so before she could think twice about it, she nodded. "I'd be more than happy to."

The boy looked at her, frowning, before he said, "You're a lot less scarier than I always thought you'd be."

"How so?"

"I always thought the Exalt would be more uppity and snooty, but you're just a nice lady."

Lucina blinkedd, and for a moment, it didn't register that he was talking about her. Aunt Emmeryn was the current Exalt. It felt strange to be called that, but she had taken on her name, so she would have to accept it for the time being. With a sigh, she asked, "Which way is your home?"

"That way!" the boy pointed down the road, before he began to skip ahead.

Lucina followed. They walked together, and as they did, Lucina took the chance to look around. Already, she could see substantial work had been done on the village. There were still a few scorch marks smearing the walls of the stone buildings, of course, but most of the damaged sections of the walls on the wooden buildings had already been removed, and scaffolding had already been propped up against a few homes to support the half-rebuilt structures. A few masons were lingering around, resting beneath the few intact buildings from the rain, covered in grime and staring up at the clouds, wondering when the rain would end.

As she approached, their attention tore from the clouds and to her. A few leaned over and began murmuring to each other.

"...the Exalt..."

"...can't believe she's here..."

"...saved us..."

She was able to pick a few words over the sound of the rain. Even though she could not hear much, what little she could catch was carried by a tone of awe–like she was Naga herself, strolling through the streets of their little town. Lucina ducked her head to hide the growing blush on her face, even though she was fairly sure all the rain already hid her well enough.

Of course they would be awed. They thought she was the Exalt–and in their darkest hour, she had led them through. She, of all people, knew how much even the smallest hope could mean if you were on Death's door.

The boy skipped ahead of her, ducking under to avoid a pair of builders hoisting a beam between them. Lucina apologized as she walked around them, and as she moved a little faster, she passed a man pushing a wheelbarrow of bricks. The man nodded at her, muttering, "Your Grace." She nodded back.

Still, she couldn't help but feel undeserving of all this gratitude. Putting aside the fact that she had lied about being the Exalt, she had brought the bandits here in the first place. The people who had died here, the Captain, Anna, their blood was on her hands. They had to know that. In the future, the scared and suspicious people had never hesitated to drive her and her friends out when they suspected they were drawing more Risen to their homes.

Yet here, her only penalty was grateful smiles and nods.

To the side, three men stood gathered before a stable–the same one she and Geralt had fallen through. As she got close, one of the men noticed, and he elbowed his companions and pointed them in her direction. The three of them raised their hands in greeting, and Lucina waved back. She watched as they turned back to their work.

In the future, her friends had often helped with the repair efforts after a Risen attack. This bandit attack was no different–the bandits had come, they had been driven off, and the townsfolk were left to pick up the pieces so that everything could return to some semblance of normal.

Maybe the bandits would come again. Maybe they wouldn't. But the world would carry on no matter what they did, so the town had to fix itself or else be left behind.

Had nothing truly changed? Was this world the same as the one she had left behind?

"Hey, Miss Grace?"

It took a moment for Lucina to realize the boy was talking to her. "What is it?" she asked.

"When I grow up, I wanna be a Pegasus Knight!"

Lucina blinked. Then, she tilted her head. "Why do you want to become a Pegasus Knight?"

"Because everyone knows that Pegasus Knights are the coolest knights in the capital, and you looked just like one yesterday, fighting those bandits. Did you train with the Pegasus Knights?"

She'd trained with a Pegasus Knight, though with Cynthia's lack of training, she wasn't sure if that counted.

"I guess."

"Well, I want to learn to fight just like you."

Lucina shook her head. "It's hard work."

"But I'm still gonna try! Even if it's super hard, one day I can become one, right?"

Smiling, Lucina shook her head. "You're not a girl, aren't you?"

The boy stuck out his tongue. "Ew! No, I'm not."

"Then I'm afraid not. Pegasi can only bond with girls."

"Well that's not gonna stop me! I'm gonna be the first boy to become a Pegasus Knight!"

Lucina held back a laugh. Isn't he a stubborn one.

Then, something clicked. Lucina looked back over her shoulder, at the half-repaired buildings behind her.

No, something had changed. The builders moved not with the slow shuffle of someone who knew their work could be undone the next day, but with their backs straight, their spirits high.

Even if the bandits ever returned, they were no Risen. They did not keep coming and coming and coming. It would take time for them to gather their courage again to launch an attack after they'd suffered such huge losses yesterday. Time the townspeople could rebuild, reinforce, and better prepare themselves for that next time.

People still died. People still had to pick up the pieces. But now, it was not just because the world would leave them behind–it was because there was no Fell Dragon hanging over them, no assurance that their death could come tomorrow, no feeling that they had only pushed back their death by just another day.

She could see it in the builders, could see it in the townsfolk, could see it in the boy beside her. Something had changed.

"Ashe! There you are!" a familiar voice called out.

Lucina turned around just in time to see the guard from yesterday approach them. What was his name again? Samwick?

"I'm so sorry, your Grace," the guard said, huffing as he grabbed the boy by the shoulders and pulled him away. "My boy tends to wander whenever he's bored. I hope your Grace is not too bothered, having to walk him back home."

"Oh, no, it's no trouble," Lucina replied. "I'm more than happy to help."

"If there is any way I can repay you, just name the price. I would hate to burden the Exalt herself in any way."

"It's truly fine. All I ask is you get home safely. Now is not the time to be wandering outdoors."

Turning to the boy, the guard began to scold him as they walked away. Lucina watched them go, and as they got further and further down the road, she couldn't help the smile on her lips.

Hope. Yes, that was it. People had a future ahead of them, a future to look forward to.

That was what she fought to protect.

And even if they would slow her down, it was the future of those four that she would fight to protect as well.

When Lucina returned, she found three of Anna's daughters already asleep. She had met Geralt on the way down, who told her he was going out to grab a bite. Gregor, she had seen in the inn's bar, half hidden among the guards who had come to relax after a battle nearly lost.

So when she opened the door and saw Anna's eldest, slouched on the chair Geralt had been sitting in, she moved to join her at the table. They sat there, not speaking for a minute.

What to say to her? What to do?

Her mother had not sacrificed her life, holding off waves of Risen so that they could bring themselves one step closer to their goal. She'd died because Lucina had been one step too slow and one step too late.

"You're still awake," was the first thing she said.

Anna's daughter nodded. Lucina noticed the bags under her eyes–they had not faded since she had first rescued her from Vincent a month ago.

"You need to get some rest," Lucina said. "Gods know how much you need it after yesterday."

"I don't want to."

Her shoulders slumped, and she leaned back against her chair.

"Are you afraid?" When the girl nodded, Lucina sighed. "The bandits will not come back. I'll make sure of it."

"I'm not afraid of the bandits."

"Oh." Lucina deflated and stared up at the ceiling.

Another minute passed in silence. Then, Anna said, "Do you hate my momma?"

"I–" Lucina paused, pressing her lips together. Did she still hate her? After everything she'd been through? "Your mother and I... we valued different things. I suppose, those things we disagreed on, they made me angry. But she was still a good woman. I can't hate her for that."

"Do you hate us?"

Lucina shook her head. "No, I could never."

"Then why do you keep trying to run away?"

The accusation stung, not least of all because it came from this girl. Lucina bit her lip, before she said, "I thought I had a choice to make. I was afraid of choosing wrong–but life is not as simple as that. It's taken me this long to realize that." Lucina took a deep breath. "Your mother was brave. Braver than I ever gave her credit for. If it weren't for her, perhaps I would not be alive today. I'm so sorry I could not return the favor."

"It–it's okay."

Even in the dim light, Lucina could catch the silver glimmer of teardrops rolling down Anna's face. Lucina shook her head. "It's not okay. Were she alive, she would have wanted a better future for you. A happier one. And until I can give you–all of you–that future in her place, I shall never leave your side–if you'll have me, that is."

"O–okay..."

Wordlessly, Lucina held out her arms. Anna didn't need to be told what to do–she fell into her arms, sobbing softly. Slowly, Lucina turned to gaze out the broken window, watching as the rain fell from the sky.

End of Part 2