Time travel is a mysterious thing, much like the gate to the Outer Realm.
Some question if it's even possible for the gods to visit past and future with but a step through the doors, to change history.
After all, history is written down to be passed unto the next generation. Some by those that had lived through said historical moments, and some through hearsay. From the happier tales to the more tragic fates, Legends are told. Is it their destiny to fall? To be written and honored, or is it simply a consolation to those who fell by it?
Regardless, there is a group, a single set of friends who are desperate to change history, even with another standing in their way. The one who wishes to stop them, and all they stand for.
As is, no one knows how the tides will turn. Will they succeed?
Or will they fail, just as many others have? Slain by fate and buried the sands of time as they continue on, moving grain by grain, second by second…?
That, however, is a tale for another time. For now, let us focus on the tale of a young man.
A man who will be forced to either change his fate, or cease to exist. For love, for family…
Such is the tale of a certain youth named Morgan.
The silence was swallowed by the sound of breaking furniture and changing voices. From whispers to the louder growls that echoed through the crumbling halls. Thankful for the cover of night, Morgan took shelter in the darkness. A soft sigh escaping as he took more methodical gulps of the cool air.
As a set of heavy footsteps approached his hiding place, however, he had to stop. Not daring to breath as he carefully, silently, placed a hand on his tome, waiting tensely as the footfalls grew closer, only to stop.
Anticipation thrummed through him, as he waited for it to move. To make any noise to let him know what the other was doing, silently willing the person to leave. But they never did, simply standing as if awaiting his next move.
Slowly, the young man stood, rising from his place as he lifted his hood. His other, unmoving from the tome he held as he turned to face his opponent. As he did, however, he heard a gasp.
"...Those robes…!"
Lifting his head at the shout, Morgan's eyes widened. "Luc-?!" he barely managed to get two syllables out when he was cut off, the Falchion being swung by the hardened princess.
"Perish, Traitor!"
He could hear the capitals in the words, the rage and betrayal inflected in those two simple words. He couldn't move.
No, maybe he didn't want to move? Something inside him whispered, as he closed his eyes for impact.
He was such a coward.
Why was he so weak?
THUD
Wide eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, breathing heavily as their owner found himself on the floor of his current bedroom. Stifling a sigh he stood, wiping away the trail of saliva that had made its way from side to chin.
He'd been dreaming again, of the past, of the possible future…
He didn't particularly look forward to the 'reunion'.
'I thought I was over this,' he thought blandly, almost darkly as he winced. He'd fallen out of bed again. Talk about a rude awakening.
It'd been a year since he'd been sent back along with Grima to eliminate the future children. One year since they'd been separated. A year since he'd arrived, only to be forced to bide his time, waiting for future events that had yet to unfold.
He took a deep breath.
"Master's orders are always right, never wrong," he repeated, the words long since becoming a mantra to keep him on his path.
"Part right, kiddo!" Markus, Morgan's current employer, said as he walked down the stairs.
He'd been here for a while, already. After all, he had needed a job and a place to stay ever since 'coming back'. And without money (which hadn't really mattered in the future), there hadn't been much else he could do if he wanted to survive for when that happened.
And since Markus ran a tavern on the outskirts of the Ylissean Capital, it made sense to kill two birds with a single stone. He'd even been there long enough to be greeted with a grin by said man.
Morgan paused, turning to give his boss a questioning look.
"What do you mean by that?" He asked, watching as the man stroked his beard in thought.
"Son, there're times ya don't wanna listen t'orders. When it's better for ya not t'obey said orders," he explained, ignoring the headshake he received for his words. "Like that eye patch o' yours. Ya can't see past that there patch on yer right eye, can ya?" He pointed out despite the boy's disagreement. Further emphasized as the boy shrugged it off. It wasn't like it'd actually been an order, more….idolization of his mother.
His mother couldn't see past it either, after all.
Not that Markus knew that, of course.
"Anyways, ya can't always agree with 'em. When time comes that ya c'n see past that eyepatch o' yours, then you'll understand," he told him.
Morgan stared at his boss, trying to read him like his mother would have been able to, but was only met with slight sadness. Whatever had happened to him hadn't been through fault of youthful naivety, but Morgan would keep hold of said (unwanted) advice for the future.
After all, a good tactician took as much information as he could. Every little bit was needed.
Every little bit could help.
No matter how insignificant it may seem.
So he nodded, filing the words away as he headed towards the staff room to prepare a meal for himself before the tavern officially opened. He wasn't really a great cook, in fact, he hadn't been a very good cook at all when he'd started out, but he had at least been decent enough to help the chef when they were understaffed.
But that have been about a year ago, when he'd first stepped through the tavern doors to find a place to settle for a bit. The six months prior being spent across the ocean in Valm, travelling with another to get to Ylisse. And since then, he'd learned things here and there from the traveller.
He had a feeling they'd meet again, but whether on terms of friendship or not…
Morgan grinned, it'd be a lot more interesting if that person were to be an enemy.
"Moooor-iiiieeee, hurry up! We're about to open up shop, darling~~!"
'Ugh, Chancie…' Morgan grimaced as the now-familiar voice reached his ears as he quickly finished his meal.
Chancie was the annoyingly persistent daughter of Markus. 'Annoying' in the sense that she was a stupid chit that would flirt with him, even in front of customers and especially when he had to help serve when the place got too full.
Sure, she attracted men into the bar, but it was only so they'd buy drinks only to be beat up by her father once they started being too 'touchy'.
That still didn't mean she could could try it on him whenever she had an opportunity, though.
Morgan grumbled mentally as he recalled all the times she'd been a bother (which really amounted to all of the time), trying to do whatever she could while her father was there.
Her father might have seen it as harmless, but Chancie definitely saw it as 'open season'. What the young man couldn't understand, however, as why she even wanted him.
All he had were spellbooks, his hidden tactician's robes, some spare clothing, and whatnot. He shrugged her off every time, and yet she still continued to come back.
Like an exceedingly annoying mosquito.
Or maybe a roach.
He could kill her and end it all, but… it would be annoying having to find a new job and a place to stay. Plus, on the chance he got found out…
No, best to leave it be. He did need to be here until things fell into place, after all.
"We got two orders of bread stew, Sonny!" Markus called, bringing the written order to the kitchen as Morgan nodded, preparing places and bread.
It was time for the Morning Rush.
After morning and lunch rushes, Morgan would normally spend his break at his favorite bookstore. However, it looked like he wouldn't be leaving on time today, as they ended up needing an extra set of hands. When it finally settled and he set off to take his break, however, a body crashed through the door, breaking it on impact.
"Wha-?!" "You owe me a new door, buddy!" "Is there another brawl going on outside?"
Morgan mentally sighed as he grabbed a broom, spying a couple of armed barbarians heading straight for the tavern.
"Hey Boss! We got ourselves a couple of fighters!" He called back from the open doorway.
Markus grinned at the warning, grabbing his axe before nodding in response. "Chancie, I want ya t'go downstairs with th'others," the man ordered, before calling out to the others, "Men! Gather t'gether 'n' fight!"
Moral was high as many of the men rushed out to fend the attackers off, as Chancie ushered the elderly and those left unable to defend themselves to the basement before catching Morgan's eye.
"When this all ends…. I'll give you whatever y'want, Da-r-ling~!" She winked, following the group into the basement and just missing the expression of disgust that crossed his features as he ran out to meet up with Markus.
Surveying the surrounding area, he saw that most of the buildings were already aflame.
Ugh, why no one had created water tomes yet, the young tactician had no clue. But if said tomes existed, things would have been a lot easier, Morgan mused, dodging an oncoming sword-swing. Thrusting the broom that he still held into the sword master's chest, he grinned as the surprised enemy fell.
It was nostalgic, almost like old times, even.
It'd been quite a while since he'd last killed a man, after all. Let alone dealing damage.
Well, soldiers, yes, but innocents? Those he'd left for the risen to 'take care of'.
Knocking the swordmaster out with a single strike, he moved onto the next target, only to pause as a familiar voice rang out.
"ELTHUNDER!"
No.
No, it couldn't be. That voice…!
Morgan blanked, mind screaming as he recognized the confident, commanding tone. Turning towards the familiar sounds, it felt like seconds had become hours as he took in the sight of a familiar woman in tactician's robes standing beside a man with blue hair and a brand.
Both of them were surrounded by barbarians.
He couldn't help it. His feet moved before his mind could catch up, and his mouth before that.
"Mother… Prince Chrom!" He nearly choked, as he stumbled and kept running towards them.
"Mother-!"
AN : Heads up to those who are still following this story but, many changes will occur so be sure to re-read the chapters! This Chapter is revised and Edited by the my lovely Grimama, Shire Hakuei. Check out her short stories on her page! (6/4/16)
