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Training
“Okay good, keep your arm just like this.”
“Like this?”
“Right. Now breathe in and let the power flow through your arm.”
“Robin, where does the tome come in?”
“Good question but not yet. Tell me once you feel the power. Okay Lissa?”
The young woman nodded to her husband, now more confused than ever. Her right hand lay outstretched, pointing her open palm at a training dummy. In her left was a mint green tome of wind magic that Robin said she would be able to use, though she now doubted that fact. The man in question stood beside her, holding her right arm up and pointing it towards the dummy. Lissa was glad that no one else was in the private training yard this morning. Just the thought of people, be they strangers or close friends, watching her attempt this buffoonish exercise…well now she sounded too much like Maribelle.
“What exactly should I be feeling?” Lissa asked.
“Something like a warmth, stemming from your center and extending out your arm. Just like holding a staff.” Robin smiled excitedly. He could not believe his new wife had asked him of all people to teach her magic, much less ask to learn magic at all. At first, he had protested. Ylisse was at peace and there was no reason for the princess to put herself in harm’s way, but Lissa’s feminine charms convinced him that teaching her was a good idea. And once he had accepted that, Robin found himself overjoyed with the prospect of instructing his spouse on the ways of the mystical and arcane.
“But I’m not holding a staff.” Lissa thought that was a fair point to make. She knew that she had an affinity for magic; her cleric status was proof of that. But now she struggled to see how that translated to elemental magic.
“Try to recall the sensation. The summoning up of power from within your own body, but, instead of channeling it through the staff, draw it up through your arm.”
Nodding her head, Lissa locked her joints into place and dug deep, digging with all her might to draw out the power from within. She clenched her teeth and scoured her essence for the magic she had used so many times to heal before and…
“Nothing,” she huffed in frustration and let her arm fall slack. Try as she might, and she had certainly tried with all of her might, Lissa could gather nary the faintest glimpse of magical energy. “I feel nothing.” This was the third attempt that day. She chocked the first two failures up to Robin’s inexperience at teaching. Her husband was the kind of man who sometimes needed to approach a problem in a few different ways before finding the right solution. Now, after the magic she had dedicated years to tempering in the pursuit of healing had abandoned her, she began to suspect that she was the problem.
“Hm,” Robin rubbed his chin. “That’s…odd.” In all honesty, Robin had no idea why this particular method had not worked. He anticipated that Lissa could struggle with using magic offensively at first, just as one who wields a sword might struggle with an axe or lance, but the apparent inability to tap into her natural reserves of magic was curious indeed. “Did you try and conjure some extra power from the tome?”
“Robin I couldn’t even feel any magic in myself! Oh, it’s hopeless!” Lissa cried, threw away the tome, and sat down on the ground at once. “When I have a staff in my hand, it’s easy. I just think ‘heal’ and the power is right there. Works every time. Maybe I’m just not cut out for offensive magic.” Lissa’s eyes scanned the ground in front of her aimlessly as she cradled her knees to her chest.
“Lissa,” Robin cooed, crouching down to meet his wife at her level. “Don’t say that. You’re the best healer in the army!”
“So what?” Lissa did not look up. Even on a good day she would have disputed Robin’s appraisal, at least privately, though she knew full-well that he was speaking genuinely. Today, however, was not a good day. She felt ashamed, embarrassed even, that, after years of training, she could not even muster a little magic without the help of a staff.
“So, you obviously have a very large and very well managed pool of magic to draw from.”
“Sure, for Light Magic, but maybe Anima Magic is beyond me. My old royal tutors said as much when I was a kid.” In her youth, Lissa had taken a mystical aptitude test as many royals and potential warriors did. Although she scored higher than Chrom, those in charge of teaching her had expressly recommended she become a cleric rather than a mage.
“While it is true that different individuals have proclivities for certain branches of magic, it’s all just magic, Lissa. It’s the same for everyone. Some will find some schools harder, others easier, myself included. You mastered Light Magic already. With the right approach and enough time and effort, you’ll master Anima Magic just the same!” Robin smiled, hoping his explanation would reinvigorate Lissa’s drive to learn. When Lissa finally raised her head to look at Robin, however, her gaze narrowed into an accusing glare, he realized he had not accomplished that task.
“So, what you’re saying is, you or anyone with magical ability could become as good a healer as me if they just tried hard enough?”
“Wuh, well-no, I mean…not exactly,” Robin sputtered, discovering he may have accidentally wounded Lissa’s already shaky confidence.
“Well, it might be easy for prodigies like you, but some of us have to struggle to find even the least amount of power! I’ve been studying magic since I was ten years old Robin! Eight years of work and this-” Lissa threw up her empty hands “is all I have to show for it!”
“Honey,” Robin began softly, attempting to draw his wife back to reality, but Lissa continued as if she had not heard him.
“Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve never been that useful anyway. I can’t ride a horse like Maribelle or wield an axe like Libra.”
“You probably could use an axe if you wanted to,” Robin interjected but was again ignored.
“I’m just Ylisse’s royal damsel in distress. I challenged every protocol, went against every stuffy noble and councilman, violated every rule to secure a spot on the battlefield! And for what? No one will write stories about me or sing songs of my exploits. When I’m dead and buried, all anyone will remember is my father’s cruelty or Chrom’s noble victories or Emmeryn’s sacrifice. Scholars will just shake their heads when they see my name on a list of Ylissean royalty, just a runty, brandless princess who never did anything of value. That’s what I am, Robin, a footnote!”
“Lissa!” Robin’s raised voice knocked the young princess out of her impassioned rant. “What are you talking about? How many times have I told you? You’re anything but useless. You’re crucial! During the war Chrom, Frederick, Sumia, me, everyone, we all relied on you! How many soldiers went home to their families because you healed them? How many battles were won because you replenished the strength of our forces to withstand enemy attack? How many times could Chrom, or Maribelle, or me have died if not for your risking everything to save us? Who cares what the storytellers and songwriters say you did? You have done more than anyone could have possibly expected. Your brother and your friends remember that. All the people you helped remember that. I remember that. Isn’t that more important than what future generations might say?”
“M-maybe,” Lissa managed to reply, still reeling from Robin’s tactical takedown of her self-deprecation. She paused for a moment, gave a large sigh, and, with princess-like composure, addressed her husband. “You’re probably right. Maybe I am pretty good with healing, but that’s only with a staff in my hand. That does not mean I will be any good at combat magic.”
Robin grinned slightly, glad that his wife had begun to listen to reason once again, but his grin faded as he formed his response. “Lissa, when you told me you wanted to learn magic, you said it was because you did not want to feel useless anymore. I told you that you weren’t useless then like I did just now. But there is a question I should have asked then that I am going to ask you now. Even before we married, even before we were engaged, we shared everything with each other; our hopes, dreams, aspirations, fears, doubts, and insecurities. You have felt looked down on for most of your life. You are strong, so incredibly strong, but those fears and doubts and insecurities can wear our defenses down after long enough. Since we met, though, you have always been proud of your healing abilities. It didn’t matter what words or taunts or tragedies were thrown your way. You always channeled everything through those staves of yours to make people better. You never seemed to mind if you were the best healer of all time or if those stuffy nobles could see you. The only thing that mattered to you was getting the job done and getting it done well. You love healing people. You love helping people. It’s one of the reasons I love you. The question I have to ask is this: why is that not good enough anymore?”
Taking a moment to consider her white-haired husband’s words, Lissa looked deep inside of herself for answers instead of magic this time. He made an excellent point. Of all the jeers and idle gossip that she pretended did not hurt, her role as cleric had, to her knowledge, never filled her with anything but pride. Even throughout the war, when there were times she could not save everyone, she took courage and inspiration from each life she did save. Those small victories kept her going no matter the outcome of the battle. Recently, however, a new doubt slinked unnoticed in between her thoughts. What changed? Coming out of herself for a moment, Lissa observed Robin sitting patiently on the ground, awaiting her response. She could not believe the year she had gone through. She had lost so much, and yet, sitting in front of her was a gift greater than she could have ever imagined. Thinking about the events that culminated in the princess of the Halidom of Ylisse marrying an amnesiac she found in a field gave her reason to smile briefly before discovering the answer to her husband’s question.
“The war ended,” Lissa began, her response puzzling the white-haired tactician seated before her. “When we first met, I was still really a kid. The Shepherds fought bandits and brigands, helped small villages, little things really. Important, but simple. Things occasionally got pretty scary. Friends got badly hurt, but I always saved my patient. Then the war started. I always knew that there would be someone I couldn’t save. It was a statistical inevitability. So, I tried my hardest to mentally prepare myself for that day. Then it happened. I was assigned to a soldier whose wounds were too severe. They had already become infected. I was exhausted. Even at full strength, I probably couldn’t have saved him. He could not have been much older than me. I never even got his name…”
“I remember that…” Robin had indeed been among the first Lissa confided in about the experience. “And that’s when the change started? No one can ever be fully prepared for something like that.”
“No, actually. I was fine. Sure, I cried for a bit, and I needed some cheering up, but I moved on, a lot faster than I expected. See, I figured there was no point in hating myself for something that wasn’t my fault. There were too many others who needed my help for me to waste time lamenting the patient I always knew was coming. So, I kept going. And then it happened again. And again. And again. Not often, but occasionally. Though in the moment I lost them I always felt sick, I was just as quickly tending to the next one. Like you said, people relied on me. The responsibility fell on me to save as many as I could, so that the sacrifices of those I couldn’t would not be in vain. My system worked. I focused on the successes to keep me going despite the failures. But then the war ended. Suddenly we were at peace again. Believe me, I swear, I will never take this peace for granted. But then, and I hate myself for saying this, suddenly there was no next patient. Everyone I could save was saved. All I can think about now are the people I couldn’t save. And not the people whose wounds were too severe, no. It’s the soldiers who sacrificed their lives so I could preserve the lives of their comrades. Everyone tells me I didn’t let them down, but that isn’t the problem. Call me crazy, but I just have this…feeling, that this peace may not last within our lifetimes. I believe, no, believed, that I was capable of more. I am tired of running away, of strategically redeploying to the rear, of waiting for the wounded and the dying to come to me. I want to, no, I need to be able to fight. Maybe not as well as you or Chrom or the others, but enough so I can keep you all and myself alive long enough to heal more people. I want to protect people, not just make them better. People have always told me I have magic potential, like Emm, did. I don’t want some snooty tutor or magic coach, though. I want someone who understands who I am and why I have to do this. I guess that’s why I asked you.” Lissa smiled, faint tears glistening in her eyes. “And you have been so supportive and patient and I’m sorry for getting so frustrated with you and…and…” she struggled to finish. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
“Wasting my time?”
“The magic lessons aren’t working, so I am going to have to find another way to help out.”
“But Lissa, you have so much magical potential!”
“Well that potential doesn’t seem to want to come out,” she laughed, “so there must be something else. I’m no good with a sword, and I’ve never had too much luck with horses, and lances seem like a bit much for me. Maybe I should consider that axe idea…” Lissa let out another giggle.
“That won’t be necessary, dear. I believe I have figured out how to get that latent power of yours to work for us.”
“Really, Robin, it’s fine. Wanting to help me is incredibly sweet and all, but…” Lissa paused for a moment, finally considering what Robin had said. “What do you have in mind?”
“We’ll get to that in a moment. First, I need to ask you a question, and don’t get funny or difficult in how you answer. Just give me the truth.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“Are you scared,” Robin asked, a concerned look on his face, “of using magic, that is?”
“What do you mean?”
“From what you have just told me, you have a need to tap into your reserves of magic and you obviously have it. And, you said that you didn’t feel the power at all when you tried earlier. A staff is just a tool. It’s useless without a potent wielder. Your magic doesn’t just go away when you don’t have a staff. Something is blocking you from accessing your magic and from channeling it offensively. So, the only thing capable of blocking that need must be mental as well, and perhaps even more deeply rooted. The only culprit I can imagine is fear; more specifically, a fear of using magic.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Lissa thought for a second before objecting. “But I don’t feel afraid. Heck, being able to shoot fire and lightning from my hand sounds pretty cool. Of course, I’m a little nervous, but I’m not scared of learning.”
“Honestly, dear, I think you might be. Not because of the learning itself, but because of what it’ll lead to, if your prediction comes true. Let me ask you another question: have you ever taken a life before?”
Robin’s delivery was cool, though not cold, and it forced Lissa to pause for a moment to relive every battle she had ever witnessed. The moment was brutally brief.
“No. Never.”
“It’s as I thought. All you have ever wanted to do was aid people, make them better. Learning how to use magic offensively, however, means that you will be called upon to fight, if only to save your patients. That means you will probably have to take a life, to harm instead of heal. That possibility–no–inevitability frightens you. Don’t feel ashamed of it. The reluctance you feel to take a life speaks to your character. It is no easy task to kill someone, even for the noblest and most justifiable reasons. Believe me, I know. That fear, though it comes from the best of places, is preventing you from walking down this path.”
“Then what do I do?”
“You have a choice. You can either turn back and remain a Cleric on the backlines, never have occasion to slay anyone, and accept whatever that outcome brings. No one will ever judge you. No one, except me, will even know. Or you can put your fear aside and fulfill that need knowing that whatever you do, you do for the good of yourself, your kingdom, and your comrades, even if that means taking the life of your enemy. It is up to you, my darling. Just know that I will support you no matter your decision.”
Lissa sat in silent contemplation for a moment. She had never considered the idea that she feared violence. Perhaps Emmeryn had imbued her with a greater pacifism than she knew. Leaving that speculation aside, Lissa realized how terrifying the prospect of taking another life actually was. She had been through a war. She fully understood the consequences, as well as the devastating effects of magic. She had treated so many wounds inflicted by the very spells she intended to learn. She had watched so many soldiers burned, electrocuted, blown to pieces, or drained of their life force at the hands of enemy mages. Could she really end the life of another, especially in such a potentially horrific way?
Then again, she had never recoiled in horror when Chrom or Frederick or Sully impaled or dismembered a brigand. She thought no less of any of her friends or comrades for their actions on the battlefield. Then she looked at the man seated before her. Robin had always been so gentle and kind, yet he possessed the most potent magic she knew of. He was no monster. He took no pleasure in the extinguishing of human life. He understood better than any the possible pain power like his could cause. Could she really expect her husband to risk his life and kill others, all the while she kept her own hands clean?
“Yes,” Lissa ended her silence, taking Robin by surprise. “I am scared to take a life. That’s why I have not been able to use my magic. But I suppose I will have to get used to it. You have, at least. This war cost too much. Too much pain. Too much death. I won’t stand idly by and watch my friends, my people, suffer a fate I could have prevented. Emmeryn desired peace over everything else, but she was trained in the ways of magic as well. If she could see the value in self-defense, then there is nothing stopping me from becoming the most powerful sorceress you’ve ever seen!”
“Alright!” Robin cheered. “I was hoping you’d answer like that.” He grinned and stood up. Stretching out his hand to grab hers, Robin helped Lissa to her feet. “Now, Lissa, are you prepared to channel your power and master Anima Magic?”
“You bet I am!” Lissa cried. “Trust me Robin, no one’s going to lay a finger on you so long as I’m around!”
“Not once have I ever doubted you,” chuckled the tactician.
“What was that idea you had earlier?”
“Simple. It is positively simple, really. Would you like to know the best part? Tomes are not required for this little exercise.”
“Seriously? How am I going to cast a spell without a tome?”
“Like a staff, a tome is merely a tool. Any given tome contains only a small amount of mystical energy for the caster to draw upon if they so choose. The most powerful aspect of any tome is the knowledge that can be gained from reading through its pages. I foolishly thought that by replacing your staff with a tome, you could switch your magical output from healing to elemental. Tomes are a source of extra magic, however, and you already know how to focus it through a staff. They are practically opposites. True magic comes from within. Harnessing it raw is the only way you will be able to bring it out.”
“Not exactly sure what that all means, but I’ll give it a shot.”
“Excellent. Give me your hand.” Lissa held her right hand out in front of her. Robin’s bare left hand reached out and cupped it from beneath. “Look closely.” With a smile, Robin conjured a miniature gale of wind magic from his left hand, so that it rested within Lissa’s right. Her eyes widened as she experienced the sensation of the whirling mint-colored air in her hand. Though, she feared the power at first, she soon recognized that Robin remained in complete control. “Feel the vibrations. Memorize the sensation in your mind. Do you have it?”
Lissa closed her eyes for a moment. In her mind’s eye, she observed only herself, her husband, and the magic in their hands. The whole of the outside world faded to black.
“I have it,” she said without opening her eyes.
“Okay. Do you trust me?”
“More than anything.”
“Good. In a moment, I am going to step away. The magic will be in your hand alone. Let me know when you are prepared.”
Lissa inhaled deeply and centered herself, waiting for Robin to transfer the magic to her. “Step away.”
“Alright. Here we go.” Robin gently withdrew his hand and stepped back. Lissa’s eyes remained closed, and her expression turned blank. “I’ve stepped away. Do not be afraid of the wind. Let your own magic sustain the spell.”
In Lissa’s mind, she pictured Robin stepping away and then disappearing into the calm blackness. Feeling the enchanted breeze in her palm, a part of her wanted to recoil or run away. She paid those fears no heed. If Robin could control it, if Emmeryn could control it, so could she. After a moment, the wind magic still remained in her hand, gusting with the same speed and force as when Robin had conjured it.
“I think I’m doing it!” Lissa cheered.
“Your body has taken control. You’re learning a spell without even reading a tome! Absolutely amazing, darling!”
“Great! Now what do I do with it?” Lissa realized she had no idea how to manipulate or even get rid of the swirling power in her hand.
“First, open your eyes,” Robin commanded gently.
Lissa did as she was told. Absorbing the daylight in the training yard, she saw the small gust in her right hand, as well as the beaming man before her. He looked so proud of her!
“Feel the magic in your hand. That spell is an extension of yourself. The wind does as you command it to. Sense your essence permeate the energy, then relax your hand and release the spell skyward. Let it go.”
Without uttering a word, Lissa closed her eyes again, briefly, and recognized that the power in her hand and the power awakening in her core were one and the same. She smiled and then flicked her hand upwards. The spell flew into the air and then dissipated.
“That was amazing!” Robin cried and embraced his grinning wife.
“It certainly felt amazing. Never in all my years did I imagine that is what magic felt like.”
“Different spells inspire different feelings. Now, before we finish, you need to replicate that spell on your own. Truly master it.”
“How do I do that?”
“Easy. Extend your hand towards that training dummy.” Robin pointed to the same dummy Lissa had previously failed to obliterate.
“Okay,” Lissa said as she stretched out her arm. “What now?”
“Imagine the arm as your staff, with your palm as the tip. Draw the magic from yourself and focus it through the arm. Form and shape the power into the exact spell you just used.”
Lissa breathed deeply as she once again tried to tap into the mystical wellspring inside her body. For a moment she received no response and feared that it had once again abandoned her. Then Robin continued talking.
“Magic responds to your emotions as well as your intellect. Remember all the people who are counting on you. Remember that need, that unceasing desire! Capture it and do not let it slip away! That power is yours to command, and you need to use it!”
Robin’s words resonated across Lissa’s entire body. She had come so far. She would not fail here! At once the energy she had drawn upon to heal so many times before bubbled up from the deepest reaches of her soul to the point of nearly overwhelming her. Yet, she did not let go, and instead pictured the small gale in her mind and channeled that oceanic power through her right arm, condensing it just behind her palm. Opening her eyes, Lissa watched as a blast of wind shot out from her right hand and collided with the dummy, destroying it.
Silence fell on the training yard, although only for a moment. As the moment ended, shouts of pride and primal joy erupted from the courtyard’s inhabitants.
“I did it! Robin, I did it!” Lissa jumped and cried gleefully. “I cast a spell, all by myself!”
“Yes, you did it! I always knew you could do it!” Robin shouted joyfully in return. The two embraced once more, for longer this time. “Oh darling, I am so proud of you!” Robin squeezed Lissa’s head tightly to his chest. She nuzzled him lightly, holding on to his back.
“Thank you so much, Robin, for everything.” Lissa pulled her head back slightly to look her husband in the eyes.
“Of course, Lissa. I’d do just about anything you would ask of me.”
“My eternal gratitude is yours, my love.” Lissa smiled and planted a grateful kiss on Robin’s lips. “Really, though, I must ask. What made you think I could cast a spell without a tome?”
“Simple. Willpower and wisdom can produce even the most unlikely of results. Within that beautiful soul of yours lies incredible power and an unbreakable desire to succeed. Once you figured out what you wanted and how to accomplish it, nothing could stop you.”
“When I was younger, my tutors doubted I would ever be much good at magic. They said I lacked the proper temperament.”
“Harsh as they may have been, they likely had a point. Of course, you were a child then, more interested in sneaking about the palace and catching frogs in ponds than in undertaking the disciplined study of combative mysticism. Your compassion, however, made you an excellent candidate for potential cleric. But you are a woman now. Maturity that you lacked before you have earned through your experiences.”
“I guess they didn’t see any potential in me. Sure, I’ve cast a spell, but do you really believe I can be a sorceress?”
“Absolutely. Honestly, I cannot believe how blind all those old tutors must have been.”
“But you’re my husband. You see me differently than everybody else. That’s your job.”
“Perhaps, but I choose to believe I see you more clearly. Inside you is a potential awaiting realization. Remember, I am no expert on teaching, but I swear to do my utmost to help you bring it out.” Robin bowed ceremonially, earning giggle from his flattered wife.
“Then I promise to do my best to learn. That wind spell will be small potatoes compared to the magical maelstrom I’ll be conjuring soon!”
“Certainly, it will,” Robin laughed. “Are you ready for your next lesson?”
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” Lissa shrunk back a little as she asked the question nervously. “All this magic and introspection really take a lot out of you.”
“That’s true,” Robin chuckled some more. “We can call it a very successful first day right here. Tomorrow, you’re going to open up that wind tome. No homework tonight, I’m afraid.”
“Sounds good to me…wait. Homework? What do you mean?”
“Fret not, princess. It’ll consist mainly of extra reading between lessons. We have a lot to cover if you are going to become a master sorceress.”
“Oh gods this is going to be harder than I thought.”
“Learning magic was your idea. After all, we could both do with a bit more nightly reading.”
“You aren’t going to go easy on me, are you?”
“Nope. Would you really have it any other way?”
“I suppose not. Well, teacher, you better get to work on developing some top-notch lesson plans yourself. Beware, Grandmaster! If you aren’t careful, this sprightly cleric is going to blow your expectations away like that dummy.”
“Lots of work ahead for the both of us it would seem,” Robin sighed, realizing he had even more to perform in addition to his daily duties.
“In that case, we should reward ourselves with a nice hot bath. What do you think?” Lissa winked playfully and began walking towards the inside of the palace, with her husband following behind her.
“Lissa, my love, that sounds absolutely magical.”
The princess giggled at the pun and held her hand back for Robin to grab it. Once he had, the couple continued their walk into the palace, content with the progress of the day and determined to continue working. Once they exited, all that remained in the training yard was the damaged training dummy and the unused Wind tome lying on the ground. Little did Lissa know; she would have the contents of that tome memorized before long. In the meantime, however, she had a lot of work to do.