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Chrom was dead. His funeral was a quiet one, attended by his surviving family. ‘A stubborn man, right up until the end,’ Robin had remarked. ‘Refused to die until he saw Ylisse well and truly peaceful.’
Robin had approached Reflet, after the ceremony. ‘I’ve been working on something,’ she said quietly. ‘Researching.’
‘And?’ Reflet asked, oddly numb. ‘What did you find?’
‘A way out.’ Robin said. ‘I’ve found a way for us to die, like other creatures do. It was always so simple, yet we never noticed.’
‘You want to-’
‘I want to follow him, Reflet.’ There was not a trace of uncertainty in her voice. ‘This cycle– living, dying, living, dying. I hate it. I want to move on.’
‘Please, don’t be rash,’ Reflet said, worried. ‘Think about this.’
‘I have. I’ve been thinking about this for a long while, now.’ Robin said. ‘I can’t bear to watch anyone else I love die. Marth and Morgan, they’ll live for a while longer, but… surely, you understand.’
Reflet did. She wished so desperately that she didn’t.
Robin sighed. ‘I’m just so damned tired. I’ve existed for a long, long time. I’ve no doubt I’d easily outlast Tiki, and even Naga. Damned dragons. Just a little prick with a sword, and they pass on.’ Her jealousy was clear. ‘I’m just so damned tired.’
Reflet was tired, too. ‘So? What did you learn?’
‘Only a dragon can kill a dragon,’ Robin said. ‘But you can trick the universe into thinking a human is a dragon, if you try hard enough.’
The Falchions; it was how Duma and Mila and many other dragons had been slain. ‘That doesn’t work for us, though.’
‘Correct,’ Robin replied. ‘Because we aren’t dragons, not really. We’re similar enough that the Falchions will kill us, but different enough that we can’t truly move on.’
‘How do we trick the universe into letting us truly die, then?’ Reflet asked.
‘We don’t.’ Robin said. ‘One of us has to kill the other.’
‘That can’t be the only way.’
‘It is.’ Robin said firmly. ‘I’ve consulted Forneus’s notes, studied the Falchions, the Fire Emblem, and even asked Naga. This is the only way.’
‘But then–’
‘Please,’ Robin said desperately. ‘I know I’m being selfish, asking you to live, asking you to endure this. But I can’t.’
Robin trembled, tears streaming down her face. ‘I’m starting to lose myself. Degeneration, Naga says. I forget where I am, when I am. I get angry, so, so easily.’
‘We could Awaken you,’ Reflet said. ‘That could help–’
‘Did it help you?’ Robin snapped. ‘Last I recall, it drove you mad. Even when I was just partially Awakened, it was… taxing.’
They stood there for a while, quietly.
‘Please.’ Robin said, soft as down. ‘Let me die with dignity.’
Reflet was not invited to Robin’s funeral. She wondered if she would have gone, if she had been. Marth had confronted her afterwards, screaming about how she’d stolen both his mothers from him.
His hatred of her did not make mourning him any easier, when he passed a mere decade later.
Morgan, her darling little mourning dove, sent her a letter one day, asking to talk for one last time. She was not prepared for what she saw. Her dove, her darling baby boy, was old and wrinkled. His hair had gone from a deep blue to a wispy silver and his face sagged. He sat on the porch of his tiny cottage, old, fat, and happy. They spoke on that porch, and Reflet learned how her children had lived their lives; Marth had become a dutiful knight, traveling to many lands and helping those in need, while Morgan had buried his nose in books and never bothered to dig it up.
‘I cannot forgive you,’ Morgan had said, staring into the dimming sunset. ‘But I understand.’
Morgan passed, as all humans did. He’d lived the longest of the time-traveling children, to well over one hundred.
All of the people from her timeline, dead.
The one woman who could understand her, gone by her hand.
She was well and truly alone.