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Chapter Text

We had found a way to get to Plegia Palace, a place I had long since stopped calling home.

Our path had been arduous, the war against Valm having left our troops at half strength. We naively thought that our alliance with Plegia could continue once we lessened the threat to the continent that we shared with Regna Ferox...

… and made a mistake.

I trusted too much that the political lines that bound us now would be stronger than the wounds of the past, that the war Chrom's father had started against Plegia would only be part of the history books. A cycle that ended Emmeryn's life, a cycle that Chrom had seen from the start...

I thought this was the end.

However, entering this palace not as the princess of Plegia, but as the Queen of Ylisse made me realize that this was not the case.

Nothing was over.

Nothing was settled.

And that the ties that Plegia and Ylisse maintained as political allies were never as strong as my marriage to Chrom.

It was my mistake, believing that our union was similar to our kingdoms.

And I forgot the reason I had run away in the first place, I got so used to the warmth of his hugs, to the calm that being with him brought me, to knowing that our family would only grow despite the stories that we both carry behind...

"Chrom, this is the end. Right? All that remains is to finish off King Validar, and all this will come to an end…"

"Frederick is leading the battle in the back, we only get to do our part. If you have doubts, if you really don't think you have the strength to fight him, I understand if…"

"No, I really want to get this over with. Please…"

We were both exhausted, tired. Chrom still had that sparkle in his look, his blue eyes looked at me with a love that I became addicted to a long time ago. If someone as sweet as him, who inspired so many people and commanded our troops, was able to look at me with such fondness… there's definitely no way I could be the monster they think I am.

Someone like him would never see a demon that way.

"Lucina is waiting for us at home..." he took my hand, giving me the firmness I needed to access the last room that would put an end to that absurd war once and for all. Our daughter was waiting for us, and we had promised that we would return.

Going through the door of that place was like entering the lion's den, King Validar was waiting for us alone. Negotiating peace and surrender was far beyond our means, so I felt nothing but fury to see him so calm when he saw us.

My father, King Validar. Those eyes hadn't changed since the last time I could see them... the arrogance, the mockery or the superior gaze he showed when advancing towards us.

Chrom positioned himself in front of me, raising his Falchion in his direction while keeping me behind.

"Validar, surrender now. Let's get this over with. It's been enough!"

"Of course it has been, innocent prince. Do you think that having desecrated the God of Plegia is a crime that can be forgiven only by throwing away your weapons? You and your kingdom have disrespected our nation for the last time!"

Our God.

Grima, the fallen dragon.

"She is not your god, she is the daughter you left behind! She is my wife, my queen! You could never see her for what she is!"

"And yet, you hide her as the useless vessel that she is. Succumb! Succumb once and for all to conquer the world that truly belongs to us!"

The atmosphere in the room turned dark crimson, miasma seemed to emerge from the ground. It was the same one that was in that place when…

If I try to think, I would never even imagined of ending up in this place. Where, next to my husband, I tried with all my might to end my father's life, in the same room where I lost my own mother many years ago. Despite the years, he was never able to understand what was going through his head...

Why lose yourself in their praise?

Was my mother's death the cause of him losing his mind?

At what point did I get distracted, what did I do wrong? Why was I never enough for him?

I'm a mother now, and I don't understand it. I don't understand how a child can be kicked out without regret, without resentment, without the deep pain of being by its side. My children were at home fully protected from the war, and in that battle I can't help but think about how I would never forgive myself if because of me they were in the position I am in now: a daughter having to end the life of the man that saw her growing up.

Thinking of Lucina having to finish me off, or thinking of my baby Morgan having to destroy my body…

"Careful! Above!" Chrom yelled, which gave me time to attack King Validar with a bolt from my tomes.

It was so natural, to reach up and try to push him away from me. I didn't want him to touch me, for none of his attacks to hit me. Because I recognize that miasma very well, it's the same as...

"This is the end of him!" Chrom had managed to cut him with his sword, it looked lethal.

Still, I knew that Validar had the same stubbornness as me. I had predicted that he would launch an attack one way or another, so I had prepared my fist charged with a new lightning bolt to prevent him from hurting my husband.

And I was right, the moment Chrom turned to see me, Validar launched a Nosferatu sphere. He intended not only to hurt him, but also to use his vitality to recover and continue the battle. As soon as I released my beam, Chrom returned to my side, realizing that the danger was not over.

I'll never know for sure if I'll ever be fully worthy of the care he gives me, how my strengths and weaknesses complement his. I'll never be entirely sure if he deserves someone like me, either. However, at that moment I was beyond grateful and relieved to have him by my side. Let him be my sword, and I be his wind. Knowing how we are going to attack and how to synchronize ourselves to be our best offense and defense at the same time, and above all, knowing that if he is by my side I can contain what that miasma wants to generate in me.

He is my husband, and I know very well that he is worried about the same thing that I am. I can see it in his haste, in the way he's so aware of me especially at that moment.

"Are you alright?" he came closer, his hand on my shoulder. "It hurts? Show me your hand, does it burn? Do you feel alright?" He didn't wait, but he himself had taken my limb to notice that that mark was almost disappearing.

For a moment, the smile he flashed was one of complete joy. It meant that his suspicions—ones I didn't want to believe—were right. To end my father would be to end my martyrdom, to end the war would be to end the chains that have kept me bound for as long as I can remember.

It would mean that very soon I would be free to return home, finally. That I could finally feel like the woman who is worthy of being by his side, and not just a fortunate one who was lucky enough to fall in love with the prince.

To be his completely. Free of all the chains that bind me to this place.

"No no!" His back was turned, but I was able to see Validar launch his last attack at him. This was a purple sphere, covered in electricity.

I had to pull my hand away from him, push with all my might to get him out of the way of that attack. It was a reflex movement, so many times I had pushed him away and with my sword I had blocked any attack directed at him...

I had done it countless times during the wars that plagued the kingdom, I did it even the first time we met…

The difference was that this time I couldn't raise my sword. The attack was too fast, faster than any other enemy we had faced. Or maybe I became paralyzed by the fact that it was my own father who attacked him…?

The sphere impacted me, and its effects were devastating. I fell to the ground, amid the screams of pain from my father who seemed to vanish in purple smoke.

He had used his last strength to attack, but at least I had managed to save him.

Chrom was now beside me on the floor, trying to keep me sitting up despite my obvious nausea.

"Are you alright, my love?" his hand sought to remove the hood from my head, which served to get some air. "We won… Robin, we won. This is the end, we can go home…"

I was still affected by the attack, but it wasn't a lethal one anyway.

I understood it too late.

Validar knew that I would drive Chrom away, knew that I would do everything in my power to protect him… knew that my feelings for him were strong.

His master card was to know how I would react.

That attack was directed at me from the beginning.

The miasma in the room was building up, its scent entering my nose and increasing my dizziness. The mark of my hand, the one that before seemed to be erased, was stronger than ever. It burned. The sensation was all over my right arm.

"Hey, what's up?" Chrom was not smiling now. It was hard for me to see it well, everything around me was blurry. He wasn't smiling anymore… "Robin, look at me! What's happening?!"

I was desperately looking for his smile, the happiness with which he was seeing me before, the peace of mind of knowing that we could return home. Our children await us, Chrom.

But he was not happy. I didn't find his smile again. I tried to raise my hand, seek to touch his face and at least reassure him that I was fine...

I'm fine, my love, just dizzy.

But what I found when I extended my hand was his expression of pain, how his face was disfigured in surprise and confusion at the same time.

"Ch-chrom…" He took a few steps back, he had lightning going through his entire body. Blood began to stain his cloak, spilling from his lips as he tried to look at me again.

I looked at my hand

the same one whose ardor was unbearable,

covered in those bolts that were now traversing my husband's body.

"This…Robin…is not your fault. Promise me… you'll get out of here… please.."

No no no no.

Please no.

Naga, please, if you listen to me, please don't let him…

Please…

Not…

Chrom, no! Do not close your eyes!

Everyone but you!

Chrom! CHROM!

The resentment of my arm spread throughout my body, I could swear that an aura emerged and I could see it through my fingers. My father's laughs were ringing in my head, the evil with which he always celebrated his victories.

His attack was directed at me.

It was the last thing it took for Grima to finally…

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AT LAST!" It was my voice speaking, but it wasn't me doing it. My body no longer belonged to me, I was not able to move.

"ALL THESE YEARS FIGHTING AGAINST ME! And now finally… finally… HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

No no!

I couldn't scream.

I couldn't cry, nor try to do something with my body. If necessary I could use the Nosferatu on me and give all my energy to him.

"What are you thinking, worm? That you can save him? Is dead! IS DEAD! FINALLY THIS OBSTACLE IS DEAD!" Grima kicked my husband's body. I'm sure if it wasn't for the fact that the holy sword could affect it, it would have used it to taint him as well.

I was kicking him with such treachery that blood was staining my clothes, if I could still save him the Fallen Dragon was taking away all the opportunities I had.

"And on top of that you sired two little bastards while being able to use this body at will… haha… HAHAHAHAHA! HOW WONDERFUL! THE SONS OF NAGA HAVE MY BLOOD! THIS IS THE BEST SITUATION EVER!"

No no no. Leave him, leave him, enough. My children are not… enough. Enough.

Enough.

Enough!

"Hoo… what is this?" Grima stopped moving, and began to back away. "Damned scum, do you think you can stop me from doing as I please? This body is now mine, and yet you think you can stop me? You and your pathetic children of Naga are mine. Your blood is my blood. My ruin is your ruin. Do you want to see your pathetic lover?!" Grima regained control, moving toward Chrom to turn him around so he could see his face dull in death.

He was there, pale.

In a pool of his own blood. His eyes closed, a giant wound on his body.

Why? So recently he was happy with me, looking at me fondly, glad that we could finally return home. Not this place, but the home he and I were building for our children… our grandchildren…

His face was peaceful, even with the pallor that covered it. It was I who killed him, it was I who ended his life trying to protect him... I was the one who took him to this place, who had planned the entire offensive of his warriors with such zeal. And his expression only denounced peace... he, not even at the last minute could he see me for what I really am.

I'm not a hero.

I am not a woman who should have been by his side.

I am not an exemplary strategist, I am not a good person.

I'm just a monster.

An empty identity, a body without a soul, a disposable being whose only value was to serve as a vessel for the Fallen Dragon.

I'm not his hero.

I am not the wind of his sword.

I am not his queen.

I'm nobody.

"Dead... pathetic worm." Grima seemed to not be able to kick it again. "What the hell is this?" our hand rose to our face. "Ha… hahaha… are you crying? Are you destroyed? Are you seriously crying for this human? Ha… HAHAHAHAHAHA! DID YOU REALLY LOVE HIM?! ALL THESE PATHETIC YEARS I HAD TO ENDURE WAS IT ALL FOR SERIOUSNESS, NOT A MASQUERADE FOR THIS MOMENT?! INCREDIBLE! YOU REALLY ARE MORE PATHETIC THAN YOU LOOK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Chrom, I'm sorry.

Forgive me.

Please.

I should never have gotten close to you. I should never have sought your help even knowing that Grima...

I should have stayed away from you. I should have protected you before.

You should have finished me off.

You should have finished me...

Why did we end up here?

How did we get here?

Chrom, I'm sorry...

Chapter Text

The war does not forgive anyone, despite all the years that had passed, their wounds could not heal yet. The war against Ylisse had been intense, their King had commanded the invasion of the borders with such force that it was difficult to continue the resistance.

That war, long before the time when Emmeryn ascended as the Pacifist Exalt, in the hands of her father, known in Plegia as The Cruel Exalt.

"Dad..." Robin trembled in the arms of the eldest, such a small girl whose eyes had already known the terror of what political conflicts could bring. "Dad... I'm scared, where is mom?"

Validar was silent, hugging her daughter to his chest with one of his arms. The other rested on a magic tome, ready to attack if necessary. He was the Archbishop of Grimleal, the head of the Church that venerated the Great Fallen Dragon, Grima. That day was supposed to be peaceful, a celebration in pursuit of their deity; the temple had been full of people whose hopes were, of course, that Ylisse would eventually withdraw from the kingdom.

Unfortunately, the war did not spare even their religious rites. In the middle of it they were directly attacked, and the Archbishop was barely able to take his daughter in his arms before seeking refuge behind one of the wooden statues with the figure of his dragon. He felt her tremble, even heard her sobs as she clung to his clothes. Validar tried to cover her head, so that her eyes were not able to see the bodies of her friends on the ground. How, in a single second, she was chit-chatting with her friends and now her father was trying to protect her from seeing their corpses? Ylisse's soldiers did not stop entering the temple, they listened to the agonizing pleas of those who lost their lives by the edge of their enemies' weapons.

"Robin..." the older man whispered, hugging his daughter closer. "My daughter, let's go to your mother now."

His wife, the current princess of Plegia, was safe in the palace. In those moments of war it was clear that the Plegian royal family would be sheltered as much as possible... In fact, his daughter, Robin, who was still trembling in his arms, should be with her mother instead of in the Church with him.

But she was so stubborn that not only did she escape from her own room, but by the time everyone realized her presence, it was too late to return. He was the Archbishop of the Church, he first of all had to face his people to deliver something as important as the war militia: hope.

Ylisse had started that war in search of conquest, to have much more territory or to impose their religion on them. Plegia had done nothing more than play defense, trying to prevent the blood of their people from spilling any longer. However, the Cruel Exalt did not back down in his desire to want to reign where he did not belong.

Hopes of even negotiating peace would not be possible while the Exalt was still alive. How long had it been since that attack began? Not only that day, but for Plegia in general... Perhaps, if that war had never started, Validar would not have had the chance to marry his wife. Or perhaps… they could have met in a more just, calmer way, and have a marriage under the gaze of their God… the more he thought, the more he would have liked the opportunity to see her in a dress walking towards him at the altar…

His daughter's screams were higher pitched. Robin was smart, and her father knew it, she couldn't scream to express her panic due to the fear they might be found. If the soldiers reached where they were hiding, perhaps there was no hope that both of them would come out alive...

However, how to silence the fear and panic of hearing the last breaths of life from all those who had come together for a bit of peace?

Validar understood that he had to act soon, or his wife would have to go through what no mother would have to go through: bury her daughter and her husband. Or the news of his death...

The Archbishop inhaled deeply, kept his arm firm against his daughter, and with both hands took the book that had rested beside him. The magic that it emanated ran through his fingers, and he knew that it would not be wise to attack the soldiers from his position... Instead, that sphere of energy launched towards Grima's own statue, the one that had protected them until that moment.

The creaking of the wood alerted the soldiers, some tried to leave the temple in a panic at what could happen. Could it be that the Fallen Dragon Grima was manifesting in his own temple? Many began to pray to Naga, the Divine Dragon that Ylisse venerates; while they tried to flee in terror.

Many stumbled upon the corpses of their own victims, others took their horses and extended a hand to other soldiers at their sides... but for the vast majority, their lives ended when the statue fell to the ground.

The Archbishop took the opportunity to run with his daughter, looking for the doors that led to the basement of the Church. Plegia had always been a highly religious kingdom, so for safety and ease the Church and the Palace had plenty of underground passageways connecting the two locations. Despite the distance, they were always intertwined.

And the very knowledge of those corridors was reserved for a small number of people: the royal family of Plegia, and privileged members of the Church.

Validar closed the door to enter desperately. Being underground, the tremor of the ground was perceived by the Ylisse soldiers and the people who sought to run on top of them. How much he wanted to cover his daughter's ears, to prevent her innocence from being destroyed more than it already was... but he couldn't deny the reality in which they were living either. Having to flee, take shelter, especially her... he, perhaps, his life was quite replaceable as Archbishop. But not Robin, she was part of the royal family by birth.

His daughter was still shaking, she was hugging his neck at the same time. They were safe in that place, no one from Ylisse's militia knew about that passage and he was counting on it... Validar crouched down, placing his little girl on the ground so that he could observe her well: her face was red, her eyes a bit swollen from the tears, and especially her terrified expression that he hated to see.

"Robin..." Yet what could he say to her? Ask if she was okay, when it was clear she wasn't? How can a father explain to his daughter the cruelty of war, or care for her feelings if she was already witnessing everything? "Kid, we're going home... your mom is waiting for us."

"Dad..." the girl tried to look up, looking for the image of her father as well. "Dad... I heard them scream... They wanted help and I couldn't... I hid... I still hear them scream..." her hands covered her ears, as tears ran down her cheeks again. "Dad…why? Why they…? Why…why today…"

Validar couldn't stand seeing her like that. Neither he nor his mother would have wanted to expose her to such misfortunes. His arms wrap around her petite figure once more, getting up to continue walking down those halls. Because he knew that the screams of the citizens could still be heard in his position, he knew that she would fall into a deep panic if he didn't get her out of there as much as possible, as he also knew that she needed to cry.

"You don't have to be strong all the time…" Although his steps were hurried to reach the palace, the smoothness with which he addressed her was different. Warm, soft, as she hugged him tenderly as he walked. "This shouldn't have happened, but it did… you're safe now, if you want to cry, cry. If you want to scream, scream... don't hide your emotions, or you'll be left with pain forever..."

Robin had tried to remain silent, her father's words increasing the sorrow that her eyes contained. Containing her pain for so long generated discomfort that she tried to reflect in some way, and what she had tried to silence was coming out from her gaze.

However, having his father's permission provided the confidence she needed to turn her sobs into tears. A frightened girl who had heard her friends die, asking for help or begging Grima to protect them... a girl who cried in terror, who took refuge in the arms of her father who did not stop caressing her hair tenderly.

Validar was just as damaged or more than his daughter, but he knew that she needed a figure of strength in which she felt safe to embrace. In order for her to get it off her chest, he needed to hold back. In order for his daughter to process what had just happened, he had to inspire in her the same calm and tranquility that he had transmitted to his Grimleal followers during the ceremony that hadn't met an end.

Perhaps it was mercy from his God or just the terror that corroded her senses that led her daughter to fall asleep in his arms, that despite being covered in her own tears she was physically intact. It would take longer to heal the wounds in her heart.

That allowed him to get to the other side of the corridor, where he had to make sure before leaving that the surroundings were clear. Fortunately, the palace proved to be the hardest place for the Ylissean army to access.

"Validar! You are still alive!" exclaimed the King of Plegia, who came to meet the Archbishop.

"No one expected them to attack today, your grace. I couldn't save anyone, except…" his daughter was asleep, but it was enough for the King to sigh in relief.

"Robin was with you… she is very attached to you, luckily you were able to defend her. Maliya has been in hysterics ever since she couldn't find her, you better go to her. No. It is an order that you go with her."

The King's tone reflected severity. Validar noticed at that moment that he was wearing his armor from head to toe, including his weapons that…

"My lord, are you not thinking that…?"

"I don't need your opinion on this, monk. It is my duty to protect Plegia, and we have let these Ylissians attack without answering. We are all fed up, and this war will not be won unless we respond with equal force. Your duty is to stay by your wife's side, you better be able to protect her in case I can't come back."

"Do not say that!" Validar exclaimed, not being as careful as he actually wanted. "You have to go back! The Plegia house still needs you! Your place is here, let me go fight on your behalf!"

"Your orders are clear. Stay in the palace, protect my daughter and granddaughter." The King took his hand to caress the hair of a sleeping Robin, because he knew... he imagined... that it would be the last time he could see her. "You are a good man, Validar. I ask this as your friend, not your King. Stay, guide this house if necessary, also advise Maliya once she ascends as queen. Promise me that whatever happens, you will protect this house. Promise me that you will fulfill your duty."

Validar was silent, his gaze now on his daughter. The King had been the fairest man he had ever met despite the Cruel Exalt's constant attacks, and he had lamented since before that his daughter would not be able to meet him...

"Validar. Promise, give me your word, and I will leave with the peace of mind that you will be taking care of this house."

"My lord… I promise. I give you my word, I will take care of your family until my last breath."

"My family is now yours too. We will see each other in another life, my friend."

The King started his way after those words, under the gaze of the Archbishop who then found another cause to contain his emotions. Another brick on a weight wrecking his shoulders…

He didn't want to see him in those last moments, he also turned his back on him until he went out the door. He knew that the army would follow him, he knew that the entire army would defend not only the palace, but also the villages that were still intact. He knew, too, that he preferred to remember him as the Imposing King he was proving to be rather than the corpse he would soon become.

Grima, please, keep my lord under your protection... allow your wings to be his guide, your roar to become his strength. Your Majesty, please protect Plegia...

It was the last time he heard his friend's war roar. The last time his daughter was in the presence of her grandfather. And the only time he was able to appreciate the affection he expressed to the princess, his wife, whom he was eager to see, not being able to continue carrying the weight that sought to destroy him.

Maliya watched from her bedroom window, the border between Plegia and Ylisse was covered in flames that spread across the field. Her look was severe, perhaps another way to hide the pain or despair that impotence gave her. If her father was the Imposing King, she was the Powerless Princess.

"My love…" the archbishop sought her attention as he entered, moving closer little by little so he could touch her. "Honey, I am here. I also brought our princess…"

The princess's severity disappeared when she saw them both enter, felt their touch, and was even able to really confirm that her daughter was still alive. She didn't lose her whole family in one day.

"You are here… by Grima, I thought you were dead. I thought I would never see you again, I couldn't find her and… you're here", Maliya sought to hug him carefully, respecting that Robin was also resting in his arms.

"I could never leave you. I promised you I would come back…"

How selfish it could be to have a moment of calm in the midst of so much chaos, a few seconds of affection in the midst of so much despair. Many families had been broken that day, parents who would never embrace their children again or children who would have been orphaned. But how bad was it to enjoy having his little family, his loving wife and daughter by his side? Knowing that it was not just a sweet illusion, but a second of time that could steal from fate. If being selfish meant being happy because his family was still alive, and by his side, then he would be guilty of being so. What else could he do but enjoy the opportunities his High Lord Grima was giving him.

Princess Maliya belonged to the lineage of Plegia and who continued with the royal line, her light blue hair was the inheritance that had marked her blood. It was a complete pity that her daughter did not inherit that significant color, Robin unlike her parents had platinum hair. It was the mystery of her birth, although both alluded that fact to the unique circumstances of that day. Maliya took her daughter in her arms, covering her between her kisses while leaving her on the bed.

"She was with me during the ceremony, I don't know when she managed to escape. But I didn't lose sight of her once I noticed her presence… She heard her friends die, I covered her eyes so she wouldn't see anything. But it's wrong, honey… She's not alright. You are better than me at consoling her, to say the least… I don't want to give you that responsibility, you know that your father will–…"

"You don't need to continue." The princess interrupted. "The King explained to me what would happen from now on, I don't want you to feel the need to comfort me. Plegia is still in danger, and we cannot stop to mourn each and every one of our losses. From now on I am the Queen of Plegia, and I need you by my side as Archbishop. Our daughter also needs an united family, so don't try to comfort me. I will fulfill the role that is expected of me."

Maliya could try to hide it as much as she wanted, but she couldn't deceive Validar's worried look. She was destroyed. How firmly she held her ground was proportional to how painfully she was actually trying to hold on.

My lord Grima, please give my wife the strength she needs...

Chapter Text

The months that followed only fanned the flame of war that Ylisse had started. But this time, Plegia's militia did not just stay on the defensive. On the contrary, the battles had taken place on the border between the two kingdoms, where the people of Naga were now affected. It was a tiny part of all that Plegia had absorbed during those years, and for a while things seemed to have an air of hope for the people of Grima.

Plegia was now in the hands of Queen Maliya, accompanied by her husband the Archbishop Validar. However, the existence of Princess Robin was a secret kept by the war itself. What would happen if, for whatever reason, one of the two figures ended up perishing in that confrontation? The Cruel Exalt did not seem to back down in his desire to conquer, and both feared that he would focus on their heiress if he knew that a little princess existed...

Their marriage was common knowledge, the love and affection that both expressed was part of what many in Plegia sought to admire. Still, it was better to think that Grima hadn't blessed them with a creature yet. Well, no one, whether they are royalty or citizens, would want to raise their children in the midst of constant war. Much less a princess.

Living hidden in a war was not exactly something that bothered the little princess, who was the joy of the palace or at least part of the distraction for vassals, guards or the nurses themselves. She was not a particularly cheerful girl, nor was she a quiet one; but you could always see her with a book in her hands or studying magic. She was called a prodigy, that a girl at such a tender age could control simple spells in her hands was marvelous in many ways... Although for her father this was astonishing, her mother was not very amused. It meant that her daughter showed an ease in learning weapons, perhaps too much... and with it, the innate terror that she would have to pick up a sword or a grimoire to defend herself in the war that was still going on.

The war had snuffed out the flame of countless lives, and it would take many, many years to recover what they had lost. The Imposing King was one of those lives taken by The Cruel Exalt, and the morale of the entire Plegian army suffered from such a loss. Although the royal palace had tactics and strategies already in place due to his death, it was still a hard blow that forced the current Queen to take the leadership of the troops to begin attacking with greater insistence and energy. Ylisse excelled in the use of cavalry weapons, but Plegia specialized in grimoires and staffs. Magic used well against an army could balance a scale that for years had been in favor of only one side.

"Mom, dad is coming home… right?" Robin had been by her side since very early, perhaps she had been so silent that it was hardly a problem for the stressed-out queen.

"Of course he's coming back, he's not fighting with the troops." Maliya replied, sitting next to her daughter.

Robin played with a map of the entire continent, checkers like chess pieces on them. Maliya was not a tactician as such, but she could see that her daughter had made a replica of the current situation facing the kingdom: the black pieces representing Grimleal's soldiers, and the white pieces representing Ylisse. It burned her to see that the black pieces were significantly fewer…

"If he were with the troops he would be more protected, Mom… but we don't have many soldiers left anymore. I heard that they may need to recruit new soldiers from the villages that are still standing…" No girl should talk like that, her mother thought. "The palace has also lost a lot of security… Dad said he was going to come back, but Grandpa said so too." Robin pointed to the pieces on the map, that there were so few left was just such a painful reality that even a child could understand gravity.

Maliya bit her lips. The situation was just as his daughter had mentioned, if there wasn't something that gave them an advantage they would lose the war. That so many soldiers were missing compared to the enemy was one of the most significant.

"Mom… what if they come to the castle?" Terror was reflected in her voice, how her hands trembled as she embraced the token that represented herself.

"They won't get here, we still have soldiers that..."

"But there are many few left, what if they fall? And if they arrive? What are we going to do?"

Unfortunately, it remained a painful possibility. If there was no one defending the palace, it would be left to fight those troops directly. But they didn't have any catalyst that was that big, much less did the palace have any defense methods that could be activated in a state of emergency. Lie to your daughter or tell her the truth? She was scared, she still had so much time to live and so much to see in the world... She couldn't take away that illusion, that desire as natural as it was to be able to leave the palace, for example.

"Our great lord Grima will never allow us to be hurt, princess..." she said tenderly, hugging her daughter until her hands covered hers. "Things look very bad right now, I know. Think that no evil lasts a lifetime, nor will there be anyone who stands alone harming others forever."

"But the Exalt…"

"He is a bad man," she added. "He is a demon, a human being filled with hate who has no love for anyone or anything. I pity him, my child. I pity that his soul is so rotten that he is only capable of bringing grief not only to our kingdom, do you think that the people of Ylisse will be happy knowing that their own King is being the reason for the constant war?

"No… maybe they hate it. Maybe no one is happy with him."

"That's why no one with a heart like that should have that much power. Because of his unhappiness, he is causing all these disasters... that's why our strategy is to finish him off. If we kill the leader, the troops' spirits will drop. If they decide to keep fighting it will be until exhaustion, and others will go home. I trust our lord Grima, I know that this man's life will end before he can reach us." The faith with which she narrated that promise was enough to soothe the terror in her little daughter, who was leaning against her chest. "So have faith, Robin. Grima is not going to abandon us, perhaps Naga has been blind to allow her people to do all these disasters in her name…"

The Queen played with her little girl's hands, parting her hair a bit so she could see her more clearly. For security reasons, they rarely dressed her like the princess she really was, the desire to keep her existence hidden was so strong that it was better not to accustom her to extravagant dresses or wear jewelry that enhanced her position. Perhaps, in a much kinder future, she could have inherited all those jewels that had been handed down from generation to generation... She hoped to live long enough to pass them.

Her hands were so small compared to hers, to think that the union between her husband and her could bring such a creature to light made that small sacrifice worthwhile. The princess who didn't dress like one, but who would stand for Plegia's house no matter what. She liked to notice all those differences, noticing that her fingers fit between hers, the mark that shone on one of her hands—... how?

"Robin…" Now her voice sounded worried, "did you draw this on yourself?"

"No… it showed up last night."

"Oh really? Last night? It hurts? Do you feel different?" Both hands were now lifting their daughter's right hand, outlining with their fingers that mark that seemed so harmless.

"No… I don't know, it doesn't hurt. I'm fine… what is it?"

"Is... this..." the worry now turned into a smile, and the smile was reborn in relief as she brought her hand to her lips. Maliya was excited, any follower of Grima knew that brand perfectly. "No, daughter… this… you had this the day you were born, this is the mark of our lord… I remember it very well. This… this is a good thing…" The hug with which she surrounded her daughter was more candid than the many she had given her.

Grima's Mark.
The main reason why both Validar and Maliya were so calm about the hair color of their daughter, was because they knew it had been a blessing from their God. The mark had appeared on her the moment she was born, and now it was finally coming back.

It was the reflection of a miracle. The miracle that Plegia had been waiting for, that even the late Imposing King would have died waiting for that bliss.

Robin felt her mother cry, but it wasn't sad or suffering tears. They were happy tears, a joy she didn't know how to fully express. And if her mother was happy, why wouldn't she be too?

Her silence turned into laughter as she responded to the hug, although she didn't quite understand the true meaning of having that mark on her hand. But her mother was happy, and now she seemed much calmer than she had for days... When was the last time she had seen her so calm?

Perhaps not understanding was what would also keep her happy.

Hours had passed, and Validar still had not returned to the palace. The possibility that he was dead was one that began to haunt the Queen's head, who in the face of everything tried to keep her firm demeanor even when that fear had already been planted in her heart. But it was impossible, right? It was impossible that he died. They had the manifestation of a miracle from Grima, and he as the Archbishop was the one who had the deepest connection among all Plegia. He must be fine, right? Maybe it was just the anxiety that started eating her alive.

However, her anxiety would not only remain in fear of her husband's whereabouts, but would be fueled by something else. Much bigger, perhaps the biggest fear that she had considered an impossibility, and therefore she kept it in the box of her biggest fears and lost the key to it.

The fire that could be seen through the large windows of the living room, the sound of the militia and the gallops of the horses that were approaching quickly. The atmosphere felt heavy, the air that ran through her lungs was no longer the same calm with which she had been all those days...

Maliya felt chills, maybe it was a bad feeling or something similar. Because it would not be possible for them to have arrived...

It was not possible…

The doors of the palace were thrown open, even though the throne room was not that close to the entrance itself, the echo of the screams of her servants or the tremor caused by the mounts as they entered was unmistakable. Maliya knew there was no chance her own army would ever enter the palace like that, especially in the middle of a war like this. In fact, her most immediate reflex was to look for her tomes that she had behind the throne; her father had taught her that it is better to always keep her weapons in that place, it would be a place that might be somewhat obvious but no one would have access except her. Furthermore, the tomes they had were of advanced magic, having them did not mean that their use would be effective.

The constant gallop of the horses only announced that he had very little time to prepare, only perhaps her lord Grima would listen to his pleas to give him enough strength to continue. The Queen of Plegia had not been part of the military, as she was the only known heiress to the House of Plegia. Therefore, she was one of the most important people to keep safe. Both Plegia knew that, and so did Ylisse. They knew that the line of succession rested on her shoulders, and she herself was counting on them thinking that she was the only one left of her lineage. It would be his master move, her most anticipated move that her daughter would later inherit the throne...

Perhaps it was due to nerves, or perhaps the anxiety itself that was turning into complete anguish. Yet, for a moment, she understood the feeling his late father had shared with her before going out to fight: the sense of responsibility, of facing an enemy whose sanity was already lost, knowing that the most important thing in the world was the relation they have with one another... it was a shame not to be able to dress her daughter with the jewels she had wanted, there was hope that one day Robin would be the one to dress her daughter with them.

"Mother! Let's go! Mother!" The owner of her desires shouted loudly, Robin was showing her head through the passageway that would take her to the Church. "Come in! Please!" her desperation turned into eagerness and haste. She tried to leave that place to get closer to her mother.

What worse loss is there for a mother than knowing that she couldn't be in her daughter's life anymore? Maliya wanted to be upset with her, to scream to her to go somewhere safer and find her father; she wanted to beg her not to worry about her. Parents are the ones who must sacrifice themselves for their children, and yet Maliya was lucky to have her father for a very long time... but she had to leave her daughter when she was still in her infancy.

"Mom please!" she implored, her hands grasping the queen's skirts.

I can't, the Queen thought, I can't turn my back on my duty and act like a coward, letting the Cruel Exalt win would be the worst betrayal to her kingdom. What to do, when the good of her kingdom was at the same time the greatest betrayal for her family?

"Robin, come back. You have to get out of here…" her hands sought out the averse ones, now pushing her back into the passage.

"I can't go without you! Mom, please come with me!" The little girl was clinging to her mother, who kept pushing her until she reached that place. Robin cried desperately, her heartbeat oppressed her chest under only one thought: Mom wanted to stay. If mom stays, she's going to die. If she dies, dad will be sad. I will be sad… "I don't want to leave you! Please!"

The same pain was reflected like a mirror on the queen, who tried to maintain her strength even though her heart was falling apart. Grima's mark gave her hope that her daughter would make it out alive, that her Lord was protecting her as the future of her house, that despite her fight against Ylisse, Plegia would come through this. Despite the desperation in her daughter's eyes, Maliya found comfort in the thought that she would be protected, that she would live.

"...be happy, Robin." She said, to push her harder into the passageway, to which she closed the door to immediately cover it with the Plegia flag.

"Mother!" the girl rolled into that place. As quickly as he got to her feet, the door was now spell-locked as well. If she wanted to try to open, Elthunder's bolts electrified her fingers.

Maliya moved away from that place, listening to the constant knocking on the door and also the cries of her daughter. The world had been cruel to her little girl, growing up in the middle of a war was not a happy destiny for anyone... The worst thing would be leaving her the task of burying her own mother afterwards.

But she wasn't planning to die that day. She trusted that Hee Lord would protect her as well, as she also trusted the attitude he knew from the Cruel Exalt.

As heirs to the throne in neighboring countries, she had had the good fortune or misfortune to know him for a long time. She knew that he was a proud man, that once he considered someone an enemy to finish there was no one who could stop him– that had been a problem for everyone around him. His father, his late siblings, also right-hand men or advisors who tried to guide him; each and every one of them considered that their efforts had been in vain.

But precisely because of that attitude, she knew that he would arrive alone in that room. Only under the conception that if someone would claim her life, her position as Queen, it would be him personally.

Maliya was very perceptive, and her hunch turned out to be the correct one. When the doors of the throne finally opened, it was the blue-haired man who entered firmly into the room. His armor was smeared with blood, the Falchion also dripping in that red liquid. His eyes were filled with fury, a fury the queen could not understand.

Why was he upset? She must be the one who was furious. She had lost her father to him, she probably couldn't be with her daughter because of him, maybe she had even killed her husband in that moment before coming to her…she had lost everything because of him. And yet, was he the one upset enough to see her like that?

Her look denounced rancor. He was the culprit of all the misfortunes that Plegia was facing in the last eight years, did he deserve anything more than her purest contempt?

"Just look... the Queen who had the shortest reign in all of history." The Exalt practically spat out those words in fury, one combined with mockery.

"And before me the Exalt who will be remembered as the worst of his entire line. It is a pity to witness how the lineage of the hero-king is corrupted with you. Just look how you bring the Falchion, that sword was to save the world. And you condemn it now!" Her voice was firm, despite the rancor that gnawed at her.

"Hahahahahahaha! You and your putrid lineage have no right to speak of mine. This is what the Hero of the legend did, to end the blood of the fallen dragon." He raised his sword, pointing at her. "You are the only one that prevents this world from being Sacred like Naga, you are the last one left…"

"Naga wouldn't have wanted you to break the balance! You and I are two halves of the same kingdom, Plegia and Ylisse coexist together!"

"SHUT UP!" The Exalt sought to attack with his sword, a horizontal slash that she could barely dodge. The first bloodshed was hers, her shoulder now wounded. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT TWO HALVES?! YOU NEVER WANTED TO ACCEPT ME! NEVER! WE ARE NOT TWO HALVES OF NOTHING!"

Maliya opened her tome as if to launch a Thoron towards his feet, seeking some distance between them. It was of little use since now her shoulder is compromised, but at least they had a space to talk.

"No... you didn't create a war... just because of that, right?"

"Do you think I'm insane? Pfft! You are a scion daughter of Grima, for all your people to praise a fallen dragon is simply an insult. I'm going to destroy you before you destroy the world, this is nothing but mercy."

He sounded like someone insane, Maliya couldn't understand the logic he was giving her. Why? How ending the balance between both kingdoms was a good thing? Purify the world? The world was at peace before he went to war!

She couldn't even see in him the friend she had been before, she didn't recognize that hatred, not even she could accompany him in the abyss of resentment he had created for himself. He was no longer an ally, he was not the shadow of what he was before, he was nothing but a madman with too much power.

Maliya understood that she couldn't reason with him, he was too lost by then. He was acting on behalf of his own god, but she was certain that the Goddess she heard of when she was a child would never have allowed such a massacre to be initiated in her name. Nor would his Lord have desired such a conquest...

Her shoulder hurt, her arm mobility was compromised. However, with only one arm she could defend herself using whatever magic she was capable of.

The Exalt fought using his sword skills, his path to the Queen was much more difficult when he was constantly attacked with spheres of power. The battle was lost anyway for one of the two, but unfortunately...

... the Exalt's cruelty was one that reigned over the same story. For Maliya, it was torture to raise her attacks against someone who had been a friend. Because despite knowing that he was the cause of Plegia's current situation, the murderer of his family and friends, she couldn't help but see only the friend he had lost through his own anger. Raising her hand to attack him meant visualizing the happy boy he once was, not the cruel man he had become.

And instead, the Exalt was unable to see the girl who had been his friend in her. Only the woman who had made a life without his company, the woman who had decided to put him aside. The woman who had condemned him to a tasteless marriage, the one who was unable to see him as nothing but a friend. It was she who made him so lost now! Reign with love? Give respect? All what she destroyed for him!

His attacks reflected the hatred he had, the rancor for having seen her happy. That happiness that should have been with him, or she wouldn't have the right to have it with anyone else.

It was that difference in their emotions that gave him the greatest advantage, getting to the point where Maliya was now on the ground while the Exalt was on top of her. The Falchion was on the ground, he grasped her arms with both hands. Their eyes met at that moment, the anger that reflected his blues against the sadness and compassion that reflected hers.

"…okay, kill me. You won. I have nothing to do… I am not going to beg for my life if that's what you want… you won, kill me."

The Exalt took both of her hands with one of his own, just to have the space to hit her with a slap.

"Hate me."

The blue-haired girl's face was now to one side, she wasn't even trying to break free of his grip.

"…How much longer are you going to humiliate me?"

Another slap.

"Hate me!"

The echo of the other blows filled a room that was eerily silent, not even the blows of a little girl interrupted it...

Maliya turned to where that door was. Robin had obeyed, maybe by then she was on her way to the Church and had met her father... maybe they were together. She preferred to think about that, she preferred to close her eyes and let the image of her little family be the comfort with which she would leave this world.

The thought was reason to smile, a fact that made the Exalt even angrier.

"I SAID HATE ME! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU JUST LIKE I KILLED YOUR FATHER! HATE ME!"

"Ha… hah… I feel sorry for you…" another hit reached her face, "I can't hate you…" and another one, "… I don't feel anything for you. I told you years ago…"

The Exalt had never felt so much anger as at that moment, not even the blows were helping to lower all that anger contained in the depths of his being. His hands were now taking her neck, he wanted to squeeze until at least her eyes reflected the hate he claimed from her. Because it would be a strong feeling, and that was what he wanted from her.

However, her eyes were lost watching the flag that covered the passage. The hope that her daughter had found her father and they would be far away from that murderer calmed her beating heart, because no matter what happened to her at that moment meant that her family would be safe.

Ah… perhaps her imagination was too vivid in those last moments of her life. Because she could swear that her little girl was watching everything from her place, as silent as she had always been by her side...

That look of love was the reason the Exalt stopped choking her, and she was able to take a breath almost immediately.

"Why... Maliya, why..." the Exalt now embraced that dying body, wishing that gaze would be directed towards him. "Why couldn't you love me like that, I would've made you happy... we would have been two halves together... why..."

He could feel how delicate she was in his arms, knowing that he was responsible for having gone so far in his conquest.

"Kill me…" the Queen whispered.

Perhaps it was pity, or perhaps it was another feeling that the Exalt could not explain. Perhaps it was the trace of affection he had for her. He took his Falchion from the ground, and taking advantage of the fact that she was lying there already, he ended up impaling its edge on her stomach. Blood was now coming out of her mouth, her eyes drowning in tears.

"..." silence. He wasn't as gracious as he thought. Perhaps cutting her neck would have ended her life more quickly, she would have suffered less... but in his selfishness he wanted to see her die. He wanted to be the last person she saw once she took her last breath.

However, the silence was interrupted by the sobs of a little girl who was then crawling out of her hiding place, who had silently watched all that battle.

The little girl was shocked, unaware of the clear danger that the Exalt was still alive. Wounded, but alive.

The tranquility that had existed in the queen's expression changed to one of horror as she watched her daughter getting closer. It wasn't an illusion, it wasn't her wishful thinking creating a fantasy to bring relief, it was a reality: Robin hadn't left.

"No... no... kid... go away... no..."

The Exalt was surprised, until then no one knew that the Queen had offspring. And before his eyes was one of the most disastrous consequences of his actions: to see how a girl is crawling in search of a mother that she would soon lose.

However, he did not allow her to approach. He took a step to cover Maliya's body, to get in the way of her own figure.

"You had a daughter…" he whispered, pulling a dagger out of his armor. He had to wipe out all of Grima's blood, and unfortunately that girl also counted as part of his lineage.

"No... no... your war is against me... you won... leave her... She's a child!" She couldn't raise her voice so much when she was drowning in her own blood, plus the sword went through her body as well. She clung to life simply because she wanted to defend her little girl, but her weapons had long since been out of her hands.

Terror was the reflection the Exalt saw on the kid. She didn't even look like a princess, the clothes she wore made her look like any noble's daughter, nothing else. But a princess? Not even in his wildest dreams could he believe it as such. She was unarmed, and she didn't seem to have any abilities other than a child's.

The dagger would be enough, and doing it in front of his mother would be even better. That girl the fruit of her happiness, one she had chosen not to exercise along with him. She had sought her life elsewhere and still had the audacity to reproduce anyway. That perhaps in that kingdom it is allowed that the members of the Church do not have chastity? It only proved that the followers of the Fallen Dragon lacked logic even in the bases of their behavior.

Raising the dagger, he grabbed the girl by her clothing to prevent her from escaping the fate she had written for herself.

"Nn…! Please…please…ahg!" Maliya needed to spit out her blood, she felt weaker and weaker and worse, she was totally forced in her position. One of her hands tried to lift the Falchion, but its blade only cut her fingers anyway. Only adrenaline kept her alive.

However, the eyes that the Exalt met once he had the girl under his gaze was not the terror he had seen before. Her eyes were a flaming crimson, a purple aura emanated from her body.

"You have disrespected my house for the last time, you insignificant worm." The voice was not sweet, nor was it a tone that disguised her terror or sadness. It was a chilling one, distorted from what was a child's voice. "I am the fallen dragon Grima, the wings of despair. Do you think you can kill me with your wooden knife?"

Maliya watched in horror as her daughter raised her hand, and that was enough for the Exalt to scream in panic. She was lifting him off the ground without even touching him, using a sphere of purple power that surrounded her entire small body. His daughter floated, and the energy she emanated felt heavy. She was not only cold from her inevitable death, she was certain that the entire room had abruptly gone cold.

"You are just an insect playing King, Son of Naga. You are nothing compared to true power", the more his fist clenched, the more he came to suffocate that man. Her face was pale with panic, he was trying to hold onto something but there was nothing physical for him to do so. She squeezed so hard that he was not allowed to speak, let alone beg for his life. "Eliminate my lineage? How adorable, it would be better to end yours."

"Ki…prin…Robin…" She no longer struggled to remove the sword, much less fight the heaviness of her body. Her hand extended towards her figure as if she could reach it, as if the laughter that was filling that room that came from her did not cause her to shudder.

Why?
Why was his lord using her daughter's body in such a way?
This was not the miracle she hoped for.
This was not the blessing she wanted for her.
Her gaze was lost in her dizzy blur, her hand also felt too heavy to continue clinging to life.

She breathed her last, terrified by the sight that crowded her eyes. Robin, her little and only daughter having been possessed by her lord, Grima. She had known from the moment she was born that she had been a blessing from her God, the mark she had been born with proof that Grima lived within her.

And for a long time he hoped that it would manifest in her body, give her power or perhaps a wisdom that had been part of her beliefs.
But not like that.

She didn't expect her to be a vessel.
That he would use her body to manifest himself.

Because she couldn't go calmly. She could not die peacefully, but in a drowned panic of not being able to protect his own daughter. Maliya died understanding that she had been a failure as a mother.

The Exalt's body fell moments after the queen had left the world of the living, his face colorless from having been choked to death by the fallen dragon.

The one, who then continued to float in the throne room laughing.

"Finally… finally! HAHAHAHAHAHA! FINALLY A BODY! FINALLY MY ERA BEGINS!" Grima's presence was gigantic, a spirit so gigantic that a girl's body could not support it all the time. Except for one who had just witnessed her own mother's brutal death. Her chest didn't stop burning, perhaps it was her search for power to defend her mother that allowed Grima to manifest himself–she wouldn't know it at the time.

Robin returned to the ground, the dragon aura still emanating from her body. The mark on her hand was still glowing, just like ones that had appeared on her cheeks.

Her gaze was lost between the bodies of both regents: her mother, who still had the Falchion piercing her body, and the Cruel Exalt who was also beside her.

"Mom... mom..." Desperate, the girl had reached her mother's side. She was ignorant of her own state, ignorant of the pain in her own body as well as the aura it emanated. "Mom… wake up… please, mom. Mother!" She shook her body desperately, although she did not get any response.

"Mother! Mom…please…mom…mom you're safe, mom…" not even the sound of the passage door opening came to separate her from her failed attempts.

Validar reached the palace by way of the Church passageway, only to find the scene he had feared the most come true. His dead wife, and his daughter trying to wake her up.

"Mother!" Robin's tears increased the energy that came out of her body, one of which she had neither knowledge nor control at the time. Validar carefully approached his daughter's back, just to verify that Maliya had really died.

And she had died in panic, in horror. She had suffered before dying from the wounds on her face and the bruises on her hands.

Robin perceived her father's touch and turned around just to hug him, little by little that aura was descending from the whole room to return to her body. Validar knew that the war had come to an end thanks to the death of the Cruel Exalt, and perhaps the same shock did not allow him to elucidate beyond what he was experiencing.

Grima had been reborn.
Grima was now in his arms.
And he, as the Archbishop, owed himself to his Lord.

Chapter Text

The war against Ylisse had ended. The Ylissian troops left the lands of Plegia once the corpse of their Exalt was handed over to them, accompanied by the Falchion.

The destruction across the kingdom had left scars far too deep inside, some taking perhaps centuries to heal.

Plegia finally had the opportunity to perform the funeral rites for its two regents. It was a funeral attended by all survivors, dressed in black robes and candles in hand. It was not only to commemorate the life of the royal house of Grima, but also to all those victims who died due to that war.

The nobles whose lives were snuffed out, the citizens who couldn't return home, the families who were hopelessly broken in confrontation.

The funeral was led by the Archbishop of Plegia, Validar. For many it was cruel that he personally was at the head of the rite, since everyone knew that during the war he had lost both his best friend and his wife, the love of his life. His attitude was one of complete serenity, delivering everyone's souls back into Grima's hands...

However, it was also he who spent the longest time watching his wife's grave while the others gradually withdrew to return to their homes. The work of rebuilding the nation had remained silent out of respect for all those who died, but sooner or later they had to rise again...

Beside the Archbishop, a little girl silently held his hand. Plegia's best kept secret during that time of war: the rightful heir to the throne, his only daughter. Preparations were already being made at the palace to officially introduce her, now that Ylisse would not be hovering over them so directly.

"We have to go home." The man's tone was not only firm, it was harsh. Losing his wife left him with something deeper than mourning. "It's just you and me from now on, from now on you'll do whatever I tell you to, understood? Enough of escaping from the palace whenever you want, enough of running through the halls as if you were anyone. You are a princess, on top of that you have our God inside you, it is time that you start acting like it."

Her father had prevented Robin from mourning her mother's death, had also forbidden her from covering the mark that was now very visible on her hand. The scene he found them in was burned into his psyche, and he was the only witness to what had really happened that day.

Grima had finally taken his daughter's body. What he and Maliya had been waiting for from the moment they first laid eyes on her, to know that her birth had been special from the first instant. He was sure that it was Grima who had killed the Exalt, but he was unable to save his wife.

He didn't have enough power yet.

It couldn't fully manifest.

Because if he could have done it, his wife would be celebrating the end of that war by his side.

"..." Robin covered her face with her hood, nodding gently. That was the attitude that Validar wanted to see, that his daughter allowed her God to do on her body what was necessary to be reborn.

The little princess did not receive a hug from her father, nor from anyone around her as comfort as her mother did to her when her grandfather died. Instead, she was relegated to crying silently…or when her father wasn't constantly on top of her. The Archbishop really did not allow her to cry…

Did he want her to keep the pain within her heart? Robin couldn't help but look at the mark on her hand, the one that sometimes caused her severe pain. Her mother had been happy when she saw it, and her father was now checking that it didn't disappear. But she herself didn't feel happy, she didn't understand anything that was happening around her... but perhaps her father was sad like her. Maybe he was the one who needed her to be strong so he could cry, and then their relationship could go back to normal.

The screams caused tremors, they shook that place. It was a dark basement, barely lit with torches that were in some points of it. Warlocks and Witches were standing at each corner of a pentagram drawn on the ground, which also had some grimoires and staffs on top of it.

The prayers simulated ballads, everyone had their eyes closed while holding their hands together with a black rosary between their fingers. The chant was repeated a thousand times around the pentagram, the combined magic of all of them generated the miasma in the room to grow more and more.

In the center of that ritual, the princess of Plegia was chained with her arms and feet against the wall. The chains were taut, preventing any kind of involuntary movement the creature might make. The miasma hit her directly, the incense also entered through her nose to cause the effect for which everyone prayed: the dragon aura filled the room, the girl's eyes were now crimson like blood, even the mark shone with such similar intensity to when the metal burns against the skin.

Our Lord Grima, we are your servants.

We implore your presence in our house,

We offer you our lives and our bodies.

Our great Lord Grima, we kneel to you as your servants,

Take our sacrifice...

The Princess screamed, the force of her lungs combined with the pain throughout her body was unbearable for her. It was the physical pain that kept her from crying over the emotional wounds that the war had left her, the one that Grima's followers were offering her even if she didn't ask for it.

"ENO–… IT HURTS, ENOUGH…! DAD! DAD!" It was not only the terror that was reflected in her voice, but also the plea and the pain that the constant spells generated in her body.

The point of the chant was to drive Grima out, or help him manifest in her body a second time. All the marks of his possession were already drawn on the girl's body, one could even perceive that heavy presence that alluded to the Fallen Dragon.

They had spent hours in that place, the blood of the princess had been used to draw the pentagram. The blood of a dragon was the only one they could count on for the ritual, and although she was the daughter of the late queen and the archbishop, everyone knew that she was not just any human.

"DAD! DAD HELP! ENOUGH!" Her eyes searched everywhere for the presence of someone she knew, someone who would free her from those chains after so much time in them. Her wrists were red, her eyes swollen from her tears, and her entire body bruised from the constant use of magic against her.

Validar was at the tip of the pentagram, guiding the ritual and to whom his daughter implored help. Their eyes had met more than once, he could recognize the look of suffering so marked on his princess's face. However, being the recipient of Grima required sacrifices, required the Archbishop himself to ignore that stare and refuse to stop the ritual.

They were so close to their Lord manifesting himself for the second time, everything was in order for his rebirth...

…unfortunately, a girl's body has a limit that everyone ignored. She had pleaded and begged for help from the moment they began to hurt her, and there is only so much a being can take before collapsing. The aura completely disappeared from the room, blood was the only thing running on the floor, while the figure of the princess was finally silent.

"Damn it," Validar threw his book to the ground. "Untie her and clean her wounds, she has been useless. Damn! We were very close this time!"

"Sir…" One of the Warlocks sought the Archbishop's attention, raising his hand as well.

"WHAT?!"

"...Maybe Grima didn't wake up, but... look... we managed to make the weapons... Isn't this the Fallen Dragon magic?"

Validar then approached where the grimoires were, pushing some priests to get to them. Bending down, he observed that the energy that previously emanated from the princess's body was now present in the pages of that book...

"This is the concentration of your magic… thank you my Lord, thank you for not abandoning us." He mentioned more calmly, in the end the ritual hadn't just been a waste. "Take our Lord to his room and leave him there, that's enough for today."

The Archbishop left the room leaving his followers looking at each other, some confused and others sad. No one dared say any words aloud, perhaps not even thinking of them under the possibility of Validar spying on their thoughts, but they all had the same weight reflected in their eyes when they untied the princess: Validar was not sane.

They were required to keep their eyes closed to not witness the emaciated state in which the magic affected the princess, it was necessary to recite prayers aloud so that her cries of pain were only the flutter of a fly in comparison. However, more than one had given in to the curiosity to see their God or the manifestation of him, finding an image that oppressed the chest even of the most devout in that room.

Some of them at the time of bandaging also apologized to her, asked in silence or implored mercy because of the pain of which they knew themselves to be the perpetrators. Robin wasn't listening to them, or perhaps shock wouldn't allow her to.

The ritual was repeated daily, all under the surveillance of the Archbishop.

The Plegia palace was preparing for a visit after months of continuous reconstruction. The hardest thing about the war was to continue moving forward, the royal family was up to the task for the kingdom to prosper. Unfortunately, the only rightful heir was still too young to rise... Still, someone had to be the face of the kingdom until the princess reached the right age.

The late Maliya's cousin, Gangrel, was stepping out of his carriage with his lady-in-waiting.

The red-haired prince, belonging to a secondary line of the line of succession, considered only as a duke or a simple nobleman close to the royal house of Plegia. He was the only person with Grima's blood to take on being a temporary regent.

"Finally we have led, Aversa." A white-haired lady also got out of the carriage, taking Gangrel's hand.

Both were teenagers, they looked no older than sixteen. They were young, but they were the right age for the work they would do from now on. Gangrel concealed his nervousness with gallantry and pride, striding through the palace with a nonchalant, steady step.

Belonging to a secondary line was a giant weight from the first moment for the red-haired one, for his family to return to the throne was one of the few things he had coveted for as long as he could remember. But in this way it was undignified, a humiliation also, to know that he was there only as a mere replacement or a temporary pawn.

"Validar, I knew you would be here to receive me." The boy mentioned, his hands on his waist.

"Welcome to Plegia Palace, my lord." Validar gave a slight bow in his direction.

"Bah! Neither my lord nor what, you have a higher position than mine to treat me with as much respect as now. Let's get straight to the point, I'm willing to be your active king or whatever… if you offer me your daughter's hand in marriage. When she grows up, she will be the queen and whatever, but don't think that I'm going to leave my life of luxury just like an insect that you'll consider useless!" Gangrel pointed at him, clenching his fist in anger as well. Demanding marriage was one of the few things he asked in return for his work.

Validar frowned.

"And why should I promise you my daughter's hand? What right do you think you have?"

"The right that I will be your King, I can choose the wife I want. And obviously the princess is a pretty juicy option… if you know what I mean."

"No." Validar replied, firmly. "It hasn't even been officially introduced to the kingdom to be one of your options– furthermore, no. You are delusional if you think you have the right to marry our Great Fallen Dragon."

Validar's face expressed confusion then, rather than anger that his proposal had been rejected.

"What?"

"Oh, don't you know? The princess has our Lord Grima inside. Do you think He is going to marry someone like you?" Validar gave a mocking smile, for he himself could not allow blasphemy on that level.

Gangrel's look changed from one of confusion to disbelief, gradually turning to simple mockery. That the princess had the Fallen Dragon? It is the most original way they had to reject his marriage proposal, he was not going to deny that.

"And you want me to believe blasphemy of that level? And coming from the Archbishop, what is worse."

"Think of it this way, Gangrel." Validar started to walk towards him, "This is the only opportunity you will ever have to be a King, the only one that will be granted to your family. Either you accept this position right now, or you can go back the way you came. My daughter's hand is out of the question, I will not give in to your absurd demands. Accept now, or leave this castle."

Aversa, who had stayed behind Gangrel all this time, gave a small giggle that even Validar noticed.

"Are you clear, or will you continue to ask for nonsense?"

"You are a wretch…" and yet, Gangrel knew better than anyone that it was necessary to keep the Archbishop of the Church by his side. He was a powerful ally in a nation that turned all its praises to its God. It filled him with rage to understand that his position was as pathetic as then. "...I want to meet the princess. You may not be able to promise me her hand, but you will allow me to woo her. Last offer."

"Good." Validar shrugged. "I'll tell you once and I'll tell you again, our lord Grima would never marry you."

Robin had woken up alone in her room, her body covered in bandages and her fingers somewhat purple. She had lost too much blood, to the point that it was difficult to keep her eyes open for long.

Dad didn't save me, was the thought that looped through her head. He was there and he didn't save me, he didn't stop them… I want to help him, but I don't want to keep bleeding. It hurts me…

Her hands felt her body, she feared the burning would start again. The days felt long, her throat was burning as well from the time she spent begging it to stop.

I'm not the Fallen Dragon, she thought. It hurts to be the fallen dragon... I don't want to be the fallen dragon, it hurts...

She tried not to cry, if she shed a tear she knew that her father would scold her. She didn't want to make him angrier either, she was already suffering a lot from the death of… of her…

No, she had to shoo away that thought. She couldn't cry, she shouldn't even think about her or she definitely would.

The door opened, the figure of the archbishop entering the room, his eyes fixed on the figure of his daughter who then felt paralyzed. She hadn't cried, right? Or maybe he heard her thoughts?

"..." Robin couldn't speak aloud, her throat still hadn't recovered enough to make sounds or express words.

Validar pulled a seat on the bed.

"My lord, we have managed to manifest your magic in the grimoires. You will be able to rest for a while, we will start practicing immediately. We believe that advanced Witches are needed to be able to control all that you are capable of, and we will finally have a new King to take back Plegia. We will make the kingdom as proud as it was before, now that you have returned with us."

Robin's look was incredulous, she was listening to her father and she knew he wasn't talking to her. That hurt her, plus the fact that she had to hold back her tears.

"His coronation will be during these days, we hope to have your presence by the time we crown him. It will only be for a while until you can rise to the position that corresponds to you." Validar was also looking at his daughter, he recognized that look she was giving him, but his attention was on the brand. "My Lord, all Plegia will burst into joy once you are fully here. We will continue to look for ways for you to regain your power."

"Dad…" Robin tried to move, but it was hard without getting dizzy. "...water...dad..."

How many hours had she screamed without ceasing without getting even a bit of respite?

Validar did not hear her words. And if he did, he ignored them.

"I will leave you now, my Lord. I hope next time you can answer me in a more direct way. Thank you so much."

And as he got up to leave that room, Robin wanted to reach out to at least take part of his robe. Actions that remained only in thought.

It wasn't the first time that her father ignored her even when she was in front of his eyes, nor was it the first time that she was denied something as basic as a little food. If Mom were here... she thought, feeling her body tremble. Mom... why did you leave me? Why? It hurts, mom...

Chapter Text

King Gangrel's coronation was the first ceremony since the end of the war, though it was not half as ostentatious as previous coronations. The tormentous times did not allow Plegia's resources to be used in meaningless parties, the first thing Gangrel regretted internally.

Along with the coronation of a new King, also came the moment that many in Plegia themselves had been constantly denying: the discussion for peace.

The palace was visited by a carriage from Ylisse, bringing the royalty from the neighboring kingdom.

"But Emm, do you have to do this alone?" A blue-haired young man was then with his arms crossed. He hated having to dress formally on those kinds of occasions, but he wouldn't leave his sister alone either, considering the situation they were going through.

"We must show goodwill, Chrom. I am very happy that they accepted my proposal…"

"Sister, you are hurt! We should wait for you to heal before negotiating." The prince had a point, leaving the kingdom his sister had been attacked by all the victims of the past war. Blows were not lacking even though his guards did everything possible to lessen the damage.

Still, even a stone thrown in the right place with the right force could be just as deadly as an arrow.

"... I'm fine. Something like this is not going to stop us from doing the right thing." Emmeryn smiled, making Chrom even more confused.

She had to inherit the Kingdom too soon, how could she be so calm with all the pressure? They had lost their mother years ago, and while their father hadn't been the best, it was also a recent loss. How could she smile like that? Chrom feared greatly for her, even if his admiration was much stronger.

"I don't want someone else to yell at you, Emm…" the blue-haired one mentioned, clenching his fists on his knees. "They have shouted at you things that you do not deserve, and you accept them. I don't want you to get hurt..."

Emmeryn sat next to her younger brother, taking one of his hands.

"We will have worse things to overcome, will you join me in this, Chrom?"

"... of course."

The carriage arrived at its destination a few moments later, both princes were received by the security of Plegia who would escort them to the throne room. This was Gangrel's decision, instead of preparing a room where they could talk as equals, Gangrel waited sitting directly on his throne.

So when Emmeryn walked through the gates, a King who wasn't much older than her– but who definitely lacked the calm she emanated would greet her. Chrom felt nervous from the beginning, that room was much darker than any place in his own palace.

"Your Majesty, thank you very much for receiving us." Emmeryn began by offering a bow, followed by her brother. Their guards were unfortunately forbidden to enter that room, so both of them were alone against the new King.

"Just look, are you the new head of Ylisse? You are smaller than I imagined. How old are you, Milady?" Gangrel asked mockingly, sitting still.

"…I just turned fourteen, my lord. However, I am willing to discuss the necessary terms so that our kingdoms can be at peace."

Chrom was uneasy. He had long ago heard that it was disrespectful to ask a lady her age, had this King sought to put his sister down from the start? Why didn't she say anything?

"It means that you are admitting that it was your kingdom that started this stupid and pointless war, and that they were the ones to blame for everything falling apart now. Did you see the state of many people when you entered your crystal chariot? We are barely surviving. Thanks to you, thanks to your family, thanks to your Goddess, a kingdom has lost its citizens, the royal family is reduced to rubble. And you come to talk about the terms necessary for peace? Do you think we'll be okay just accepting your damn handouts?" Gangrel spoke with hatred above himself, the repudiation he had for a whole decade of war that he did not plan to hide it from the lineage of the culprits.

Emmeryn felt chills, and Chrom felt anger. They knew their father had been a cruel man, leaving their mother to die after bringing her younger sister to life. They knew the previous war carried great grudges. They had every right to be upset...

"...yes, my lord, I admit that it was Ylisse who raised the sword against Plegia..."

She had finally managed to get out of bed, walk out her bedroom door, and try to walk. Robin had found an immense coat that would cover her bandages, and give her the warmth she needed after feeling chills to her bones. Her stomach was rumbling, she was so thirsty that some water would be a relief...

None of the servants who had helped her mother were allowed to attend to her, no matter how much she begged for a little food, no one would take her to her room. Validar had made sure of that. If no one could bring her what she needed, she would find what she needed herself.

However, her steps went automatically towards the throne room. That was her safe place, where she talked with her mother when she was alive, where she could seek a bit of peace among so many corridors of the palace... her steps were automatic, interrupted only by the sound that filled her ears afterwards:

"How funny, my lady! Well, our peace agreement will expire if you betray us again. I don't think you don't have the cruelty that your father had, that lamb expression may fool all your subjects but it definitely won't fool me. You are the same as the Cruel Exalt!"

"Stop!" Chrom exclaimed, taking a step forward to cover his sister. "You can't talk to my sister like that! We've been through a lot already, she's nothing like that man!"

"Ah, I see, my lady. Do you let this monkey protect you?" Gangrel sneered.

Robin had pulled her hood over her head, hidden behind one of the room's pillars. She didn't know that the new King was that kind of man, nor did she know that Ylisse's royalty–...

Her eyes silently observed both of them, but the one who caught her attention the most was the prince who was being pushed away by the other girl.

"No, milord. I am willing to negotiate with you as long as we keep our roles clear, and treat each other with the respect we expect." Emmeryn continued to be affable, now she was the one covering Chrom. "We must not repeat the mistakes of our predecessors, so I ask you not to insult each other anymore."

"Emm…" Chrom was holding back his annoyance, why was his sister speaking as if she had insulted the other? Why was she allowing him to walk all over her?

Robin was surprised, she felt much calmer watching the Exalt than the King who used the throne of her grandfather and mother. But more than that, her gaze was fixed on the prince... maybe, just maybe, he also had so many feelings that he couldn't scream like her.

Gangrel recognized the figure of someone closer to the throne. Was she the princess they kept so hidden? Very good.

"For Grima's sake! You are right, I offer you my sincerest apologies, Milady. We must maintain formality, of course…"

Robin exchanged a quick look with Gangrel before pulling the hood over her face more, her attention now on the prince who was then clenching his fists.

"... I also offer my apologies, my lord." It was Chrom's voice that also bowed. "My sister–...the Exalt has been through a lot since her coronation."

"How adorable, a concerned brother. I understand you, my brother was like that before your fathr killed him." Gangrel said with a shrug.

Was that a lie or just a new opportunity to make fun of them both? Not even Robin herself, who was a silent witness to that exchange, knew it.

"I will forward the terms of our temporary peace to your palace, you may leave." The King mentioned, returning to his throne while gesturing with his hand.

"..." Emmeryn also bowed, walking hand in hand with her brother who didn't seem to really relax.

Robin watched them leave from her position, the prince had caught her attention for some reason. She didn't have his name, maybe she was too late to hear it, but it was enough for her to see him hiding his own emotions to understand the pain he was going through.

"Okay, Grima, if you're there, you can get out now." Gangrel had seen her, so he addressed her directly. "Or am I just facing the princess?" What an honor to finally see you."

She turned, pulling the hood off her head.

"I'm not Grima..." she whispered, only then could she notice her own exhaustion as she felt how dry her throat was.

"No, you're not yet." Gangrel assured, coming closer. "Milady, is there anything this servant can help you with? If you want me to kill those Ylissians, all you have to do is ask…"

"No!" She exclaimed, he had just talked about peace with them! "No… no more war…"

"Hmm…" Gangrel was joking, right? And even so, the response he received from who was supposed to be the vessel of the fallen dragon was not to his liking. "Okay, no war… Anything else?"

"...water, and food."

The redhead was really disappointed. Didn't the fallen dragons have some kind of immortality or something? Why was he asking for something so banal? Even so, it was an advantage to do such simple things...

"Good, Your Grace. Follow me."

The palace dining room was one of the few areas that had been operating normally. There were no servitude changes, much less would be possible considering how needy the general population in the kingdom was. The cooks immediately recognized the princess, despite how emaciated she actually was.

"You better have food now! And someone, anyone, bring some water too." the King demanded, forcing the cooks back into the kitchen.

Robin watched sadly as they also seemed to ignore her. She deserved it? Would no one else address her again in her entire life? Would he have to live in chains, living in pain for the rest of her days…?

The food came to the table as quickly as possible. The smell filled her senses, and she couldn't even wait for something to be said to start eating. She had been without something appropriate for days, that anything could be a relief.

Gangrel watched discontentedly. Was this really the girl he had to woo if he wanted to keep the throne longer? It looked like a disgusting animal that hadn't eaten in days...

"Your Grace", despite everything, needed to remain calm in his own thoughts. "How long have you not been able to eat? You have a big appetite."

"Four days…" Robin swallowed as she could, desperately reaching for the water jug as well.

"Ah…" then it wasn't something common, "don't dragons need to eat every day? I'd swear you look quite human."

"I'm not a dragon!" She exclaimed in annoyance, one that was ironically garnished with a violet aura emanating from her body. "I look human because I'm human, not a dragon!"

Gangrel watched with a smirk at what was manifesting before his eyes. Grima's mark was unmistakable, he had identified her from the way she was eating. Apparently it was not merely excuses that the Archbishop was making to get rid of his proposal, but it was also a fact that he was actually in the presence of the Fallen Dragon. His Lord inside a body too small, and apparently mistreated.

"Wow, you're not a dragon. You are a princess who has no table manners." He didn't even seem surprised in reality, Validar wouldn't tell him anything about her no matter how much he asked. "You are supposed to be the one to ascend to the throne, I suppose you know that, don't you?"

"..." Robin preferred to just savor the food in front of her, rather than worry about those things. However, she agreed. It was the clearest thing and his father had also repeated it and repeated it over and over again.

"Not only is it your birthright, but on top of that you have our God. You don't know how envious I am of you, you could literally rule the whole world or conquer more kingdoms. Doesn't that idea appeal to you? May all kneel at your feet, enslave any worm that dares to contradict you..."

The princess rose from her seat, covering her head again with the hood. Gangrel found this a particularly funny reaction.

"No? I could help you. Think what we could do if we came together. If you and I create a bond with which to avenge all our fallen brothers in the war, all those who agreed to be part of that bloodbath will be killed by our hand. You will avenge your mother by taking that bastard's children hostage!"

"ENOUGH!" She exclaimed, her voice being a roar that triggered the aura surrounding her body to fill the entire room. The torches that illuminated the room were extinguished by the shock wave, the only source of light being that of the princess whose eyes were red. "I DON'T WANT ANOTHER WAR! YOU ARE JUST LIKE THE CRUEL EXALT, I DON'T WANT TO KILL ANYONE ELSE!"

Gangrel's smile increased significantly as he looked at his surroundings, indeed the chills his body experienced were gratifying. That was the power of their God. That was the power with which he could conquer the world. The power that no brat should have.

"I will definitely make you my wife, princess."

Her body burned like fire, where her very eyes were red. If someone else entered the place, the princess image would be worthy of horror stories.

"Thanks for the food." The white-haired one mumbled, looking to get out of that room before someone else entered.

Gangrel kept smiling. He had never been a follower of Grima despite having lived in Plegia all his life, the only thing that God had done for him was to take him off the streets when his father decided to take care of him. A vile petty thief from the slums of Plegia turned out to be the bastard son of a nobleman, what kind of person with a broken humor would have dreamed up such a fate? And now he was not only in the palace as if he had some kind of right, but also that he had witnessed Grima's manifestation before his very eyes in a way no hater could ever have imagined.

It's just a bad joke! The redhead gracefully watched as the girl left the place, bursting out laughing when he saw that the plate he had been offered was now completely empty. If not even the bones had been left, what is worse! Is that the kind of rightful heiress Plegia expected? Bah, if it weren't for the fact that she had God inside her, nothing about her would be as special as they wanted to make it seem.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, my lord." Gangrel turned to see Aversa entering the hall. She, who until that moment had not been by his side, showed herself curiously throughout that room in the dark.

Now it was she who had summoned a flame of fire onto her hand, born from the grimoire she carried under her arm.

"Even so, having fun with the lights out together with the princess? It is surprising even to you. The Archbishop mentioned that her nine years were not long away."

That flame served to light some torches again, illuminating the scene where Gangrel looked thoughtful.

"It's not nonsense what the bastard commented. I saw it, with my own eyes, the energy of a god. Imagine having the power to conquer the world and still being so foolish as not to take it… Even refusing to get revenge on anyone who hurt you in this world. Can you believe it, Aversa? So much power and no one is taking advantage of it."

"Hm… you really seem to have a goal now, my lord. But let me ask… what does it matter? You are the King. You have an army, and a people who also have a grudge against Ylisse. Does it matter?"

"It matters. Because if that brat manages to control that power ahead of time, my position is over."

"You are not a usurper… you have been rightfully crowned."

"Temporarily! She is the heir, not me! That's why it's important to secure my position, there's nothing stronger than a damn marriage and the idiot Validar doesn't want to give it to me."

"My lord…" Aversa then smiled, "how about I get the Archbishop to accept your proposal? You worry about being a good King, and I will take care of keeping the crown on your head." The girl approached, her hands seeking the other's. "You have not come to this place alone, and believe me, my interests are also with yours."

Gangrel placed his hand on the girl's waist, drawing her closer to his body. The superior smile that she outlined generated her own, it was fortunate to have someone so machiavellian playing by his side. Someone who did not have new titles that were like chains to society.

Robin was hooded, trying to hide her hands inside her coat. They still burned, the mark glowing as her footsteps led her towards the internal gardens of the castle. She had been confined to her own room for so long that even the most natural or busy places in the palace had become an eccentricity for her, who then sought a place on one of the benches next to the flowers.

Flowers that little by little began to wither when exposed to the dragon energy that emanated from her body, and that she herself could not control.

"Don't cry… Dad can't know I'm here… Robin, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry…" She was hugging her legs now that she was sitting in a ball on the bench, those red eyes watching the flowers rotting around her. "If you cry they will find you, if you cry they will put you back in chains. You can't, don't... no... no..."

The Archbishop had been right about something: tears that are not shed are pain that accumulates inside. Not allowing her to cry was the perfect way to increase her despair that would directly feed Grima, in theory it was a wonderful idea for the awakening of his Lord.

But in reality, the princess had never felt as miserable as she did then. Trying not to shed her tears increased the aura born from her body. But it was not enough to serve as food for the god, nor to calm the stress caused by the constant experimentation in which she was subjected. However, was wishing for some calm or being away from her room a selfish desire?

"Breathe... breathe..." she closed her eyes, hugging herself. "I can… breathe…"

Her father was not in the palace, or so it seemed. The truth was that she felt a lot of relief knowing that he wasn't there, because it meant that he wouldn't take her to the basement, at least until he got back.

It would have been better if it was her mother who was here…

"Hooo, how pretty are the flowers here." The childish voice echoed from one side of the garden, a boy a little older than the princess entered. It was still a place where anyone had access, including palace visitors. "I thought I was alone! Hello, my bloodthirsty companion. Isn't it too late to be sad?"

It was a boy with white hair, a robe belonging to the school of magicians. Robin recognized those symbols, it was a different branch of the Plegia Coven.

"... who are you?" The girl covered her body with her coat, keeping the hood over her head.

"A humble servant who came to accompany his father to use unprecedented magic, can you imagine? Magic to use corpses using the powers of god. Hahahahaha! It sounds so funny!" The boy's laughs were macabre, or perhaps a sense of humor that made her shudder.

"Wait what?"

"You didn't know and you're in those clothes? Oh how sad. I thought you knew about that magic too… Anyway, what's your name? My name is Henry, from the house of– ah… well, never mind my house and I forgot my last name Hahaha! It's not important. I'm just Henry. And you, weird girl?

"Oh…" Of course, few knew the princess's identity. Much knew she existed, but not exactly who she was. Her mother had told her a long time ago that for her own security it was better that way. And of course, that boy didn't know she was Grima either... It was happiness, a bit of refreshing calm that completely disappeared the aura, and caused her eyes to return to normal. "I also forgot my last name and my house… My name is Robin. Just Robin."

It felt really good to say it that way, why not? She had never introduced herself as the princess anyway.

"So just Robin, did you see the flowers here? They are dead! How wonderful!" Henry reached over to pick them up from the ground, looking genuinely happy before her strangeness.

"Well... just Henry, I don't like dead flowers."

"Bleeeh, don't tell me you're boring, just Robin." He had flowers in his hands.

"...I think I'm boring. I like studying maps better than dead flowers."

"Doesn't your family study magic?"

"Y-yes…we are also here…by…the magic of…our Lord." She was hesitant, but even if she was happy that someone else was talking to her, it wasn't a good idea to reveal who she was.

"I want to use the weapons! Imagine being able to create servants of darkness that obey you – doesn't that sound like fun? Haha! I want to!"

"…Is that the power…of our Lord?"

"Clearly They say that He has returned, so that means destruction magic or revive corpses as servants, although I don't know if mortals can do that… but, hahaha! Who knows if in a few years we will be able to do that?"

Robin felt chills, that boy didn't seem to be unpleasant. But his ideas were chilling. It was suddenly a better idea to go back to her room. She didn't know what she expected in general, but she needed to be alone anyway.

"Yes... I have to go, my... my mom is looking for me."

"Your mom is a member of the Coven?"

"... Yeah." The princess got up, going towards the exit. "See ya, just Henry."

"Bye, just Robin!" And he said goodbye so happily, now that he had the opportunity to take the flowers that had been left on the ground. He could swear that they were affected by something external, but it was… fascinating…

Chapter Text

Years had passed since the end of the war, the reign of King Gangrel had helped Plegia return to its golden ages. Eight years had passed, the King had remained on his throne even if time continued to tick. With the princess's sixteenth birthday, there was also the possibility that her days as King would soon be ending..

Her public and official coronation was never held; the Archbishop had managed to deny her that possibility with excuses based on her religion. Their Lord Grima needed to regain his strength, and the crown belonged to him anyway to pretend that coronations of mortals would be more important than what was necessary for a divinity. However, being so immersed in his desire to serve Grima and give her all his power came with the price that the relationship that once existed with his daughter had changed forever.

Relations with the neighboring kingdom, Ylisse, were generally tense. Emmeryn had made her efforts to create a peace treaty that would prevent any kind of war, but these were denied or ignored by the King.

The constant weapons that were being created with Grima's blood were direct orders from him, and at that moment the Archbishop was in the throne room along with the princess.

Robin had spent all those years being used for experiments, which as the years went by increased in intensity and also the time with which they were administered. Only one thing about these had changed: the place where they were performed. Gangrel had forbidden the basement from being used for something as disgusting as that, instead he was playing with mockery by demanding that such experiments be performed on the throne itself.

Throne in which the princess was chained from head to toe, dressed in a suit prepared just for Grima's vessel. Her hands were on either side of the throne, her neck tied so that she could not look away from the Archbishop.

It had been many years since the princess had stopped fighting. Blood ran down her fingers, illuminating the pentagrams with magic that made the weapons shine.

"Thank you very much for your incredible kindness, my Lord." The Archbishop was kneeling in front of the throne, before the lost gaze of an exhausted Robin.

Not even the dragon aura surrounded her being, much less the mark glowed. It was just her body, emaciated, letting her blood be drawn. If she moved it would hurt more anyway...

"We are close to you being able to use this body that we offer to you. Your birthday is very close... you will have the strength to withstand his presence. We will be happy to crown you as our King and our God, my Lord."

Why fight? Her own father had his eyes on her, but he wasn't looking at her anyway. It had been a long time since I actually saw him. So long that she didn't want to continue wondering if she deserved it. Actually, what did it matter? Once Grima took her body, none of that would matter again, she could at least rest... or at least they would treat her with a little respect.

Aversa was next to Validar, taking one of the grimoires so she could rehearse with it directly.

"Magic is imposing… why not make a sacrifice to verify its lethality?" She asked, elegantly. "The Coven will be happy to receive this… with your permission, I will take care of finalizing the shipment."

Many of the noble houses of Plegia had weapons born from the blood of Grima, and new studies had been born to learn how to use that force in a way safe for a mortal. The power of a God was capable of infinite power, but there is only so much a mortal can do without sacrificing his own hands.

Gangrel entered the site, annoyed. The years passed too quickly, but people rarely changed along with them.

"I need those weapons to work now! Ylisse has been in a stable position, it's the perfect time to start another war! More soldiers! Immortals too! How long until they make it, you useless people?!"

"There is only so much we can do with Grima's blood, my lord." Aversa responded. "It is necessary that the container also rest. In addition, it is also necessary for us to prepare for future nuptials."

"I have said a thousand times that we cannot marry a God, have you not heard me? The blasphemy that this would bring to our kingdom would be the second greatest misfortune we could suffer. Are they insane asking for that for years?" It was the only thing that Validar had not given in to.

Aversa snorted, she still had little time left to…

"I understand your concerns, my Lord. But he has not yet thought about the possibility that the offspring that our God can bring… it would increase our power to have direct children from Grima."

"No! Blasphemy! How dare you…?!" Validar took a breath, calm. "... all these proposals should be made to God, not to me. We will do as He pleases."

If Aversa raised her eyes to see the princess, she could only feel pity. She was an empty shell, what did it matter what she thought of this? They had fulfilled the objective of suppressing her will in a way so gentle, so simply sweet...

"If you think you can control me… if you think your damn ideas are going to keep me from destroying you…" the aura began to emanate from her body. "All is lost for you, worm. Do you think you can talk in my presence as if I were just another rat in your laboratory? Ha…haha…" her voice was weak, the tiredness in her body was palpable anyway. Validar felt emotion upon hearing it, Gangrel could only express his disgust.

"Ah wow, they woke up God. You guys deal with this as long as you give me my weapons." The King left the room, leaving Aversa alone with that duo.

She approached the throne, kneeling.

"What do you want from me, my God? Speak, I am your servant."

"Take these damn chains off me." He ordered, and so did Aversa. A direct order from Grima was much stronger than any order the Archbishop, or even the King himself, could give.

"My Lord" this time was Validar. "We are all ready for the destruction of this world, have you managed to take over the body?"

"Haha… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SHE'S NOT EVEN FIGHTING! I WILL DESTROY EVERYONE AND BURN THIS WORLD TO ASHES!" But at the same time, he was ignoring the Archbishop who did not fit into his joy. The few times that his God had manifested himself had been divine confirmation that things had turned out correctly, that all the path he had to travel had been worth it if he managed to completely possess the body prepared for Him.

The Fallen Dragon stood up, the wounds on its body immediately healed by its own ability. However, doing so was also the momentary cessation of the pain that had fueled him all that time. Grima and Robin at that moment had not merged, had not even reached a complete communion or had a will that was shared. Nothing of that. Therefore, the smallest moment of utmost peace that his body could enjoy was also the same time that Robin regained control of it.

Unfortunately, that meant at the same time that after getting up, the nausea and burning caused her to fall to the ground. There were no physical injuries that slowed her movements, except for the constant heaviness that overwhelmed her senses.

However, to her surprise, it was the Archbishop who approached her. He did not wait for confirmation or a glaze, but on the contrary he helped her up for her to leave.

"…"

Silence was the response of the girl, who turned her gaze to the ground. She didn't want to meet her father's eyes, if he didn't even dare to look at her directly anyway.

"Tomorrow… tomorrow is your birthday, right? Do you want to rest all day?" Validar asked gently, even helping her walk. His kindness was like a surprise caress. "I know all of this has been hard for you, much more than for anyone… but this is all about to end, honey. I have realized how hard you have tried…"

"... Yeah?" Robin felt a tingling sensation that invited her eyes to meet his. "Now…not anymore? Are we going to stop?" She was begging, she had passed the point of exhaustion a long time ago. Having the opportunity, more than anything coming from him, was a relief that manifested itself in the shine that her eyes showed. It had been a long time since she had felt something like a deep calm hanging on the thread of confirmation.

"Let's stop. Starting tomorrow things will be different anyway. It's your birthday… I wish your mother could be with us."

He took her to her room, leaving her on the bed after having verified that there was no damage that needed to be treated. Being the other half of Grima gave him great resistance, he knew that in any case there would be nothing that could hurt him in such a fatal way. Was it wrong for a father to worry anyway?

Robin felt her heartbeat against his chest in a warm way, he was even able to remove so many things from his outfit that made him uncomfortable. Did Grima need so many things to be comfortable with himself? She was sure that neither of them had decided to be with each other. In fact, she had a hunch that if anyone else could be his vessel, he would accept it without hesitation.

"I think she'll be happy just knowing that things are going to be different now," Robin responded, exhausted. She didn't even ask for water or food, she knew that that request would be denied anyway.

"Rest now, and remember to recover your energy for tomorrow." Validar spoke with tenderness, one that she had not received in so long that calmed a confused heart.

It was like returning home after a long trip, when your feet are exhausted and your soul just wants a place to regain energy. Their safe place had been destroyed a long time ago, perhaps the worst sacrifice of a war ending was the fact of losing their refuge to rest. Robin hadn't felt what it was like to miss home until his father looked at her tenderly once again, when he assured her that things would be okay from now on...

Maybe it was worth living to know the future that awaited her.
Maybe her father just needed a little time to become strong.

The night passed quickly, as did the preparations that took place from the earliest dawn hour. The castle was received with the servants preparing the Ballroom, the one used for the most extravagant feasts that the Court could offer to its town. In fact, only the princess herself was unaware of the time those preparations took to celebrate the dawn of her birthday. And therefore, the date where according to the law of Plegia, she could ascend to the throne.

Robin woke up with a warm feeling in her chest. Not only had her father come to greet her very early in the morning, but the few maids who had accompanied her since her earliest childhood entered her bedroom with food to eat their fill of breakfast. Not only was it the fact of having food that in itself was a joy, but it had also been the dishes that had always been her favorites.

The light entered her room, Grima's mark did not burn as brightly that time. Furthermore, her own father had promised that the experiments were over, that his own bloodshed would no longer be necessary.

When looking out the window, the palace also seemed much more alive. She could hear some laughter, and also observe expressions of excitement on the guards' faces.

"All for my birthday…?" She said to herself, excited. If everyone was happy about her promotion, and she had even already received congratulations while the preparations were taking place... Why not help before, if possible?

The ceremonial dress was heavy and uncomfortable, but her mother's coat was comfortable enough to dress her through the morning and afternoon. Splashy parties of that level are always held at night, and if she was going to help there was no need to be so dressed up so early. Furthermore, on a day where she felt that joy in her heart, having something so close that had belonged to her mom brought her some peace.

I promise to visit you later, mom. She thought, leaving her room along with the dishes she had already emptied.

Why not make the kitchen the first stop, and greet those who couldn't get on?

"Good morning!" The princess exclaimed with a great smile, "I didn't want to give you more work than necessary so… I brought this, should I leave it here?"

"Good morning, Milady." The head cook, whom Robin knew more than well, responded. "You haven't come down here in so long… Happy birthday."

"Happy birthday, Your Majesty!" Other girls added, although they all kept their distance.

The smile on her lips only grew, like the excitement of a kid receiving good news, or just a wish that was granted after a long time after waiting for a miracle.

"Thank you very much, thank you…" So much time had passed since the last time they congratulated her like this, that they even celebrated with her the fact of being alive, that even the simplest gesture was a caress to the wounds that turned into scars.

"I imagine it was no surprise now that we are celebrating you even before the big moment, Milady," the boss spoke to her again, approaching to surround the princess in a hug.

One that fueled the naivety that she perceived in herself since the morning, and that she gladly reciprocated.

"I like it, I would like to help if possible… Can I do something here? Breakfast was also delicious and I think I have enough energy for everything now, please?"

"Princess, when have I told you no? Put on an apron and come help me, King Gangrel has very peculiar tastes when it comes to eating."

The rest of the morning continued so well that the princess felt like she was part of a dream, one in which things were finally starting to smile a little on her. Maybe not every day would be like this, but at least being able to help in one way or another or even do something as simple as giving advice on how to do things more efficiently; It made that day better than many others.

It was funny, if not ironic too, how despite her position and title it was never really necessary for her to act like the princess she was. She spent her day helping with the food, tidying up the stables, and even checking that all the guards had the weapons necessary for their position. Why not? Her spirits were so great that anything she could do, no matter how small, was fun to see through to the end.

Just as the morning smiled at her with joy, the afternoon was the same way. Neither the King nor the Archbishop were in the palace and she didn't care much about them either, most likely they were preparing a large number of other things for all the guests who would arrive as the hours passed.

Robin was walking calmly through the hallways, enjoying not feeling like a prisoner in her own home.

"Happy birthday, Your Majesty," mentioned Aversa, who was coming in the opposite direction from her.

Of course, by that point they already knew each other, even if it was in more unfortunate circumstances such as the hearings with Grima, or simply because they were in similar situations like that.

"Thank you very much, Aversa."

"I have never seen her in such a good mood before, maybe because of the party that will be held tonight?"

"It's right. In fact, I also wanted to thank the King personally for taking the trouble to organize something like this. Do you have any idea when he's coming back?"

Aversa smiled slyly, shaking her head.

"I'm afraid his location is also a mystery to me, but if that is your message I will see that my lord receives it... Although I am surprised to see that you are willing to be part of today's celebration. We figured it would be part of the job to convince you to sit with us, even though the party itself is in your honor." Her words were sharp, her tone too arrogant and even cold. A sensation so abrasive that it erased the princess's smile from her face, as was perfectly Aversa's intention.

"...Of course I want to be part of my birthday, it's been a long time since I celebrated one like I should…"

"And I imagine, of course. It has been difficult to fulfill your role... for Grima, I can't even imagine how hard it must have felt. Why don't I accompany you to your room and help you dress for the occasion, Your Majesty?

"... Really?"

"But of course! Despite my years here we have never been able to know each other. I would really love to… get to know her much more…"

The girl's voice gave the princess chills, whose natural response was to hold back a sigh.

"If you don't mind, I'll go up myself… I still have to go somewhere else…" she excused herself.

"I understand. So, with your permission…" She bowed before continuing on her way, while Robin preferred to move quickly down the rest of the hallway.

But in reality, Aversa wasn't going anywhere in particular. Behind them had remained a third figure who had not engaged in the conversation, one who in fact stopped just to listen.

"Archbishop," the girl said with amusement. "I must assume that the preparations have been more than ready, right?"

"What were you talking about with our Lord?" He questioned bluntly, perhaps even impatiently.

"Nothing so interesting, apparently it will be a pleasure for Him to attend today's rite. I have seen him all day as ordered, he has not stopped helping even with the most banal nonsense." Aversa did not contain the mockery with which she mentioned those words, knowing that the tone would help the other's anxiety disappear.

"Good. Marvelous. You have fulfilled your duty quite quickly, you are a very fine student... I prefer that you not leave him alone anyway. The guests should not delay."

"And it will be my pleasure…" she bowed, hand on her chest. "Your cruelty astonishes me, if I may mention it. Being able to kill your own daughter on her birthday, in front of the entire kingdom for Grima… ah, just thinking about it makes my skin crawl."

"It is just the final step to what we have drawn out for so many years. All the conditions for its rebirth are met today. It is finally what all Plegia has been waiting for, today is a day of true joy." There was no hint of resentment or remorse in his words, nor was there any doubt. "I know my late wife would have loved to be present today, to finally see the rebirth of our Lord Grima. It is a more than adequate sacrifice for the night that awaits us…" his hand sought that of the girl, who was smiling slyly. "Besides, in you I have found the best daughter any father could ask for."

Hidden against the wall next to the hallway, Robin listened to that conversation with perplexity. The happiness that she had managed to accumulate throughout the day enough to be at a party fell to the ground, shattered a thousand times with the ease of someone breaking glass. She was unable to move her hands, her legs trembled to the point where she felt like he could fall at any moment. Her father, her own father, who had shown a little kindness to her… no, the first man she came to trust blindly, whom she looked up to as her idol and who had been part of her refuge, was talking about killing her. Offer her completely to Grima, so that she herself would cease to exist. But it was not those words that destroyed her being, and were the authors of the silent tears that she could not contain no matter how hard she tried. It wasn't that her life was in danger, nor that she was a sacrifice to the God of an entire region, nor even that her body had never belonged to her in the first place: but that she called someone else his daughter. In all that time in which she had longed and desired to have him by her side, that all those moments of loneliness were filled with the hugs that he once gave her, that the pain was silenced at least with his company and so many times that she silently asked for at least a hug where the time and wounds that both had lost between them would disappear; While she begged him to come back for her, he saw someone else as a daughter.

In all that time that she was burning with the desire for the pain to stop, was he giving her the hugs he never gave her? All those years of agony where she imagined he never got over his mother's death, were he offering his fatherly guidance to anyone else? On those occasions when she was forbidden to mourn the death of his family, did he look for another one?

Get out of here, a voice in her head shouted. Go away. It's not your birthday celebration, they're not going to crown you, they don't want you to be their queen, not even their princess. Go away. Go away!

The urgency of this was the only one that thawed her paralyzed legs, and although tears continued to fall down her cheeks due to sadness, they also reflected a resolution that was missing in her all that time.

I need to get out of here. I have to go.

She took a step forward.
Then these became a walk.
And from this, she began to run through the hallways.

She knew the castle perfectly, despite the years there was only a limit to what could be changed. Since she was little she had been able to escape whenever she wanted, but now she needed to do it even more perfectly than she had achieved years ago.

She needed to create the perfect strategy. And this began with not raising suspicions, with playing with a low profile enough. Her heart might be tired from beating for so long broken into pieces, but her mind was as clear as the light that came in that same morning.

She arrived at her room, being surprised by the dress that had been prepared for the occasion. Elegant, with Grima symbols all over it, she could even pretend that it was the outfit of a queen and not a simple princess.

It was entering and throwing a sphere of energy born from her own hands towards it, turning it into ashes that she would later step on.

She had elthunders, elwinds, and elfires at her disposal, as well as a lightning sword that she needed to carry to defend herself. The coat was large enough to carry weapons without anyone suspecting anything, it had been designed that way on purpose for the same belief that her late grandfather had with the throne: keep the weapons you are going to use in it. They will be the most obvious hiding place, but to which only you will have access.

She acted too quickly, danger had never made her skin crawl like that. If she had never behaved like a princess anyway, then she would live her life as a peasant if need be. What did it matter? It was a useless title that lost validity on the day Grima awakened in her, because she was never the princess from that point on.

Speaking of him...

"I don't care if you want to stay, I don't care if you're going to use my body however you want. But I got tired. I'm tired of you using me, I'm tired of waiting for someone to see me. I'm fed up! If you want to destroy the world or whatever, find someone who will get tired of fighting you. Because from now on I'm going to fight every day. I will not use your powers again, is that clear to you?!"

Silence. There was no ardor in response, nor was the mark glowing.

"I thought so!" she exclaimed, opening her bedroom window.

Getting out through these had been child's play, she knew how to jump to the roof and propel herself with the elwind to maintain stability until she reached the ground. That trick was as simple as it had been used too many times, but so effective that she preferred not to think about it so much.

"Oh? Are it raining people today?" A young albino man commented amusingly, "Look who fell to me from the sky! Just Robin! What a pleasure!"

Surprised, the albino turned her gaze towards him. Henry was bursting into laughter, as if he had seen the most amazing trick or the best-rehearsed show.

"Heavens…! Don't scare me like that!" In the complete spiral of emotions she had, and how her goal resonated against her will, these kinds of random encounters…
…could be part of a good plan.

"I am so dark that, without meaning to, I manage to scare, who are we fleeing from? Of the princess? Did you know that today is the rebirth of Grima? I came just to see if it's as big as everyone says. Did your mom come to see it too, just Robin?"

Oh, the divine ignorance of the people.

"Yes Yes! That is exactly what is happening. Can you help me… create a distraction? It is a good offering for our lord, you know?"

"Hoooooh… you're using really interesting words, and what's in it for me if I do?"

"No… no… don't you want to be the first to surprise a God? These parties can be very boring if they don't start with a little chaos."

Henry's eyes widened in real amusement at this. He had no reason to listen to her, but he also had no reason not to. Why not? If there were still hours left to start...

"Hehehe… hahahahaha… Hihihihi! I like you so much, this time I'm going to help decorate—... ACHU!" Henry had released a flame towards the castle grass, at the same time Gangrel was entering the palace. "Oh, how bad, what ugly allergies… ACHU!" And a little elwind so that the flames would increase, so that at least the King would be unable to see them.

Robin moved away from him from the first sneeze, being in the inner gardens gave her only two escape routes now that one area was blocked off. She had placed the hood over her head, closed the buttons of her coat even though this hindered his mobility and her vision in equal measure.

If she listened very carefully, the distraction could attract the attention of both Validar and Aversa. But it could also be considered an attack on the castle, in any case...

Getting to the outside garden required her to cross the greenhouse, and this was a point where most of the guards tended to ignore if for some reason they came looking for her. And also, a point that she needed to visit.

Small tremors were felt due to the number of people who were running to put out the fire caused by Henry, who would also have left the scene in a much more theatrical way.

"Okay, we've done the distraction, what's next?" Henry was so calm, smiling next to her. And she again felt as if her heart was sinking into her stomach.

"What are you supposed to be doing?" She said.

" I'm saving myself to see the path of blood that we are going to leave. Tell me! Next step!"

His amused attitude was funny to her, and she pointed towards an internal hallway. Her hood remained over her hair, while Henry only walked in the direction she was pointing.

"Act natural. If someone sees you and imagines that you are in a hurry, you will look suspicious of the attack–…"

"Of course I will look suspicious if I was the one who did it." Shrugged.

"Henry, you better… yes, yes, good idea. Throw the grimoire over there," she pointed to another hallway to the left, "do it with all your strength."

"You mean this?" With all the strength he was capable of, he threw the book. He managed to hit a painting of one of the ancestors of the royal family, practically making it fall from its place on the wall. The noise was another point of attention that increased the white-haired girl's anxiety. "...oops, I'm definitely stronger than I look."

But Robin didn't have time to analyze each part, she was again walking towards the doors that led to the greenhouse. Henry was following her anyway, why not? Yes, the situation for him was much more hilarious than so many others he had experienced.

The guards were moving around all areas of the palace, perhaps Gangrel was making a fuss because the preparations were being rejected when the rest of the guests were arriving at the place. Members of the Coven, important families allied to the kingdom, followers of the cult, all those who needed witnesses to the rebirth of their God.

On the other hand, the princess found the doors leading to the outside completely closed. It was a huge door, closed with a lock that she didn't fully recognize. She wasn't a thief or a locksmith to know what to do either.

"Ohw, does the journey end here?" Henry asked.

"... No." I have to get out of here no matter what. She inhaled deeply, and even though this would be a contradiction worthy of ridicule, Robin once again used Grima's strength. How? Raising her leg to kick the door hard, at least until the lock was no longer a problem.

"...okay, we could do that too. Wow, this is chaos…" Henry was trying to stay calm because of how hilarious this was to him.

Robin just rolled her eyes, leaving the palace to finally access the outside gardens. Everything from then on was extremely simple, and because of her own calm she could not afford to stay longer than necessary.

She didn't mention anything else, she grabbed the collar of her companion's tunic as if to indicate that they would continue. And this time it was as simple as starting to run.

The speed and force she was using were a reflection of the danger she was perceiving, that it was a condemnation for herself to look back if possible. Perhaps the innate strength conceived by Grima made her go much faster, or perhaps it was the panic that ignored the emotional pain or fear that she might be experiencing even at that point. But the truth was that her legs did not fail her at that moment, her fear was not what stopped her from walking...

Henry had unfortunately been left behind, could he still catch up with her if she was running aimlessly? She had not left the palace since she was a child, even when the war against Ylisse had raged across the continent. The only exception was a specific day, the one that began her suffering, which she herself considered to end on that same date.

Her gift, to herself on her own birthday, was to regain what she had almost lost: her instinct to survive.

The only place she knew other than the palace was the cemetery, a place where her eyes stayed analyzing each of the tombstones and their obituaries. There were some that belonged to all the victims of specific towns, others to families that were extinguished during the confrontations against enemies, but only one was the one that caught his attention above all.

The elegant one that was next to the largest of them all. The Imposing King rested in peace beside the grave of his daughter, the mother of Robin herself.

"...I was finally able to come visit you. Visit both of you…" she was very far from the palace, she needed a few seconds to continue moving away from the perimeter. But couldn't ignore where her heart most longed to go. When she noticed that she had no safe place to go and no one to turn to, the only person that came to mind was her mother. "I'm so sorry, I promise I didn't forget about you. I was busy."

The girl knelt in front of the tombstone, cleaning it with one of her fingers. After so many years, so many lonely nights and entire weeks without being able to eat... finally, finally, he had the opportunity to mourn a loss that at the time she could not vent.

The tears untangled her throat, the screams purified her head, and the regrets that she had kept for many years found a way to lift the weight that her body had supported.

"I can't stay here… I don't want to die yet. I don't want to die, mom. I know that for a long time I said that I wanted to accompany you, but... I don't want to die." I don't want to die. The realization of her own desires was even a surprise, "At what point did I get so lost that I didn't even know I didn't want to die? I wish you were here to tell me what to do… Mom, I know Validar lost the love of his life. I know that you are and will continue to be very special to him. I know he loved you like no one else... but I would love to know, I would really love to know why I wasn't enough for him. Mom, if you were here with me, would you let me leave?"

She knew she wouldn't get a response. Once a being dies, its soul ceases to exist. There is nothing that can prevent death from being the end of a person, nor is any bond stronger than that truth.

"I'm sorry... I was never the princess you expected. I'm sorry for having failed you, I'm sorry for not being able to protect you... during the times when I was alone I tried to study. I don't want to fail again, mom, I don't want to see anyone else die. I don't want to feel so useless that I can't even protect myself... and to do that I have to leave. Since you're gone, I've been homeless. The palace is so different now…" She stood up, the more she spoke she felt that the resolution to her problems was becoming very clear in her head. She had completed the first step which was to move away from the castle, now what was next? "If one day I can return, if one day I manage to make something important of my life, I promise to return so I can tell you about it. Forgive me for not being able to stay in Plegia…"

Robin walked away from the grave, covering her head with her hood again.

"... but with this there is no need for me to return. You were right, it is very comfortable that it is so big... Thank you for everything, mom. I promise you that I will be happy. I promise you that I will find something that is truly mine, and I will protect it. I promise you that you will be proud of me."

Years passed after that visit, two to be exact. Being away from the palace after long years was an opportunity like no other. The castle went into a great crisis once they discovered that she was nowhere to be found, the Church itself also panicked. Moving through the streets while hiding kept her in a constant state of alert, where any false step meant returning to those chains from which she had escaped.

But of course, no one was really looking for her. They were looking for their fallen God, the one who had not bothered her since that day.

Running away for so long is tiring, especially not having anyone to trust. Everyone could be an enemy, any cult loyalist could tell the Archbishop that they had seen her somewhere. Walking through the forest was a relief, the trees were good company and also an excellent shelter during the coldest nights.

She had been walking aimlessly during that time, still not finding an adequate resolution for what his future would be. Or if she even had any.

Except one day, where his walk took her out of the forest while sneaking past soldiers from the castle. He could see a town in the distance, a mill that was unlike anything he had seen during that time in Plegia.

…

Unless she wasn't in Plegia anymore.

The view was so different, the air felt much calmer. She breathed, for the first time, a calm that was transmitted through the atmosphere. The simple image of those mills in the distance was extravagant, unique really.

She took a seat on the grass, hugging herself as she enjoyed the landscape before her eyes: the Holy Empire of Ylisse, the neighboring kingdom of Plegia.

"How nice…" she whispered, giving in to the calm of letting her guard down, falling asleep once her body asked her to rest.

"Chrom, we have to do something."

She gently opened her eyes, two figures were in front of her…

"And what do you propose we do?"

"Uh… I don't know."

…she regained consciousness completely, and both figures were much clearer in front of her.

"Ah!" They both exclaimed in unison.

"I see you're awake now…" was the voice of a blue-haired man, who was watching her from above.

"Hello…" responded a small blonde next to him, drawing the attention of a girl who was barely awake.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know?" The kindness that she recognized in his voice was the reason why her eyes were now on him, despite hearing the tender laughter coming from the blonde who remained at his side. "Give me your hand," the blue-haired man added, at the same time extending his own towards the girl.

Robin didn't have the chance to hesitate, the tranquility that that smile conveyed to her was enough to extend her hand towards him. The one that had the mark of Grima was lifted by the arm that had the mark of the Exalt.

His eyes were directly on the blue-haired boy, who then greeted him with a smile as he lifted her up.

Neither of them knew it at the time, but it was that exchange of glances that left them both enthralled with each other.