I've recently opened an AO3 account for simulpublishing fics to a new audience, though FF . net remains my primary platform. Most of what I already have here will be republished over there, sans for a lot of the early stuff which will remain here. I'll stick to republishing my FE and certain Pokemon stories for now. You can find me over there at Nate_kun. As for this, little Azura is perfect. Pat her head, protect her, read and review. Many thanks!
Word count: 720 words.
Small Songstress
"They're all so mean to me."
The small girl takes a gentle sip of water, clutching her glass with both hands as her worn feet dangle over the pond's edge.
"What do you mean? Who is?" the young man, Prince Corrin, asks.
"Everyone back home—everyone that isn't mama."
A grave answer framed so simply and to the point, tainted by miasmic darkness yet relayed with enough childlike innocence to belie the horrors festering underneath. Corrin gulps.
"Surely they don't all treat you so cruelly?" he asks in disbelief.
"They do," she says with something of a minor huff. "They're always picking on me and they never say why. They look at me like I'm dirt, like I don't belong. If I try to fit in, then they just ignore me. Mama can only do so much. They like to pretend when she's around, but when she isn't—I'm a ghost to them."
A sudden hand on her head brings the little songstress back to her senses. She looks up at the humble prince.
"How terrible," he says before quickly catching himself. "My bad, I shouldn't have asked in the first place. You don't have to relive those terrible memories anymore. It's in the past now. I'm here for you, Azura—we all are."
A small smile begins to creep on her face, deterred from fruition by a lingering shred of doubt.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asks in a hushed whisper, her eyes cast downward.
The prince's hand hesitates.
"Azura?"
"The dream is over," the girl mourns. "That's what Azura—the big Azura—said. She forced me to open my eyes. This isn't my perfect dream where nobody hurts me anymore. It's real life, and nobody ever wants to see me in real life. You don't have to be my dream prince anymore. So.. why?"
"Why?" the prince returns his hand. "Because I want to see you smile. You almost did it just now! You're right, this isn't a happy dream anymore, and soon we'll have to part ways and return home. I know the thought of that might be painful for you, but it's going to be okay. The Azura I know grows up to become a strong, courageous, beautiful woman. She has the voice of an angel and dances with the utmost of grace. Her kindness and selflessness knows no bounds. She's determined, capable, and in the end—overcomes the hardships of her past and present to walk her own path. That's why I want to stay by your side, and I'd rather do so in the real world—where I and our friends can devote every ounce of our strength to protecting you from those that wish you harm, than in a bittersweet illusion that's doomed to fade away."
She tightens her hold on the glass and sniffles, ever wistful of her waning fantasy.
"It's funny," Corrin continues. "Fighting alongside all of these heroes. This world is pretty dreamlike in its own special way. I owe our Summoner a debt of gratitude for being able to unite heroes from across all kinds of worlds, realities, timelines—dreams. I remember feeling lost, confused. I was sure the dream had withered as Azura said it would, and yet there I was—yanked out of the dying dream and brought into reality. At first I questioned everything, I wondered if I had stumbled into my own illusion, but then I was reunited with you and my doubts were cast aside."
A single tear spills, but no more than that. She loosens her hold on the glass and Corrin briefly wonders just how much of her feelings she's attempting to bottle up.
"Bringing a smile to your face is my own struggle," the prince declares. "If I can bring you happiness, then who I am doesn't matter. Whether you're dancing in the light or adrift in darkness, I'll always be here to protect you."
Azura tries to take another drink, but her sniffles turn into sobs. The dam shatters and the little princess clings onto her fated friend, clutching him tightly in fear that if she were to let go for even a second, he would ebb away into her dwindling dreams once more.
The prince returns her embrace without question, confident in her smile's return.
Just a small excursion based on lines from FEH's Adrift focus. It's interesting—the absence of proper worldbuilding is among one of Fates' biggest failings, ask anybody with even a modicum of interest in the game. Perhaps the most interesting of these unexplored details is that of Azura's childhood, only briefly alluded to here and there in doses so small you'd need a microscope to see them—one instance in particular being locked to DLC that North America never received. The gist we're generally told whenever it's brought up is that it was terrible, mired in the midst of what's now referred to by fans as the concubine wars. Adrift addresses these problems by giving us a glance into Azura's past with a younger version of herself, but it goes much deeper than that. It proposes the notion that Azura was so lonely, so reviled, considered so meaningless and nonexistent by the denizens of Nohr's court that she unconsciously crafted a fantasy in her dreams, where figments of her own imagination were given life and the purpose of protecting her wounded heart from those that would wound it further. It's intriguing that young Azura, at such an age, is able to concoct near-accurate visages of people she, at the time, barely knows or doesn't know at all. Especially Corrin. One wonders if she subconsciously knew that she would eventually meet a boy one fateful day with the same appearance as the protective prince she had dreamed of so long ago, and if her instant connection to Corrin throughout the game was somehow based on this latent feeling deep down that everything would be alright if she just confided in him. Such revelations bring new light to Fates in hindsight, retrospective layers for a plot that sorely needs it. I hope Intelligent Systems continues this new trend of paralogues going forward—a whole new door's been opened.
Expect more Adrift content from me soon, perhaps not as sad as this. It's small, but I also threw in some existential concepts with Corrin here—doubts of whether he's still a dream or an entity all his own in this fleeting mobile game reality. I'd like to toy with the concept more. Drop your thoughts in the well on the way out.