Chapter One

Premonitions

A murky room surfaced in my vision. The image shook as I swiftly surveyed the area. I could see no further than twenty feet in front of me, due to a thick fog that hindered my sight. The only thing I could be sure of was that I was in a large room, filled with tall columns that held a blackened ceiling. A dim, red carpet laid underneath my feet that led to a throne seating a shadowy figure. The figure laid his forearm on the rest of his chair and perched his jaw on his hand. His long fingers embrace his chin, tapping in a consistent rhythm. The silhouette reached within its robe and slowly began to rise. Behind me, I could hear cries and clash of armor; however, I did not turn to see the furor. A man garbed in blue emerged from the fog to my side. Chainmail hid under his clothing and he beared a sword in hand. A white cape shawled around his left shoulder, leaving his right exposed. Long, dark hair rested at the nape of his neck, illuminating his pale skin.

"This is it! Our final battle!" he bellowed into oblivion. He placed his hand on my shoulder, looking at me fervently with his deep blue eyes. In the most heartening voice he said, "Hey, remember to keep your head in this." He nodded as he spoke. "You're one of us. And no destiny can change that."

Her head pounded with each word, as she groaned from the agony it demonstrated.

The imaged flashed and I saw the man clad in blue swinging his sword at a tall man, cloaked in black and purple robes. The blue man swung vigorously downward, missing completely; then again, only for the robed man to catch the body of his opponent's sword with his bare hands. A hazy, purple glow emitted from his palms as he withdrew a malevolent laugh. The robed man pushed down against the sword over powering the blue man. It seemed as if he had shrunk in comparison to the robed man's might. The blue man shouted as he desperately tried to hold his ground, "Now!" I brought both of my hands in front of me; one was holding a book open as the other was radiating the color yellow. With a shout, I drove my hand outwards at the robed man and an electric power shot towards him. However, the robed man was too quick for my actions, vanishing before my attack could have any effect. "Up there!" the blue man exclaimed. Suddenly, a mystic purple orb came soaring towards me. I swiftly leaped backwards, body facing towards the sky. Midair from my jump, I hastily dispelled an electric orb at the robed man who appeared floating in the air. I touched my forearm to the floor to support my body, permitting my feet to fall and scrape the ground as I slid backwards. Peeking beneath the hood from my clothes that had fallen over my eyes, I saw the robed man collapsed onto his knees.

The blue man bolted at him with a ferocious might; however, the robed man had disappeared into nihility and the blue man became airborne, flying backwards by an unknown force. He slammed against a pillar, making the stone crumble upon him. He wedged his sword into the ground as a crutch to hoist his fatigued body up from the rubble. From across the chamber, the robed man emerged and faced the blue man. His unwavering expression grew into a diminutive smile as his hand ascended in the air. A purple orb started to materialize, rapidly expanding as dark energy fused into it. The sphere blasted out of his hands, hurling to the blue man. I immediately took action and ran to him. The images of my vision began to slow as I saw the distance between the orb and the blue man drew near. Diving in front of him, I used my own orb to deflect the robed man's. The collusion of the orbs sent a wave energy that made both the blue man and I fly back.

I landed on the blue man's chest as he groaned from the impact. "Sorry," I grunted. I moved off the blue man and faced the robed one, taking out my sword that hung at my left hip; hidden underneath my cloak. The blue man agonizingly rose behind me. I widen my stance and angled my sword to stretch across my body. The robed man straightened his posture and elevated his chin, looking down on me.

His face was slender with high cheeks that was decorated by his finely kempt beard. His brow furrowed above his dark eyes. His face was full of leashed anger. "Why do you still choose to resist? You know that fate always wins," he withdrew.

She felt something hit her stomach; however, her body gave no reaction.

Face first, the purple man collapsed onto the ground. The blue man, who stood closely in front of me, turned, making his hair sway then settle above his eyes. He let out a sigh of relief accompanied by a liberated smile. I chuckled and smiled back. I gazed into his eyes that gleamed with ecstasy and couldn't help but become lost in them. His eyes narrowed and formed the same shape as lips do, when a bright light appeared behind the man and I thrust him to the floor.

Nothing other than a white blinding light saturate my vision. I heard footsteps race towards me, then something lifted up my chest. My vision gradually comes to its previous state as the blue man's face appears within it. "You alright?" he asked. I could hear the sound of my own breath under his words. "Heh, don't you worry. That's the end of him." The man proceeded to pick me up into his arms. "Thanks to you, we carried the day. You can rest easy now." He delivered his attention out to the robed man's corpse. "And at long last." The blue man's words began to deepen and echo as the color red filtered my vision. The beats of my heart rapidly vibrated throughout my head. The blue man looked back at me and startledly said, "Hey! What's wrong? Come on, you can't give up now! Liss-" Then there was no more sound, just faint ringing. The blue man's eyes widened. His shoulders pumped up and down as he fought to breathe. My sight and hearing returned back to its normal state as he laid me on my feet and stepped away, revealing an electric rod coming out of his body. I looked down, seeing my hand darken from its prior illumination. He looked down upon himself, observing his fatal wound. "Th-this is not... your fault. P-promise me," he entreated, struggling to get out his words, "you'll escape from this place." He looked upward, into my eyes. "Please... go." He fell to the ground.

I took a few steps back. "Chrom... no."

The too familiar laughter filled the room. "I knew you couldn't resist."

Her vision blurred away into darkness. Her limp body gained the sensation of the air's cool breeze and she felt patchy grass brush past her skin. With struggle, she slightly opened her mouth and raised her chest to breathe in the much needed air. Progressively, her vision turned from black into bright red, which irritated her. She attempted to move her hand in order to massage her head; however, her body was heavy and her arm wouldn't budge. She began to struggled to open her eyes when she realized that she was paralyzed still.

Mumbles sluggishly filled her mind as she regained her hearing. "I'm deeply sorry, milady. I was sure that anything -rubble, rocks, and weeds included- were out of our path," assured a stern male's voice.

"It's alright, Frederick," a girl replied. She could feel the faint thuds of footsteps moved around her as the girl lightly hummed. "Well, we have to do something," the girl remarked. Although a young female being present did eased her mind, she still desperately tried to force her eyes open to see the strangers that were standing over her.

"What do you propose we do?" spoke a second male. His voice was resonating. It was deep, calming, and peculiarly familiar. She hardly managed to open her eyes to a squint, which made the girl and the man both gasped. Even though her eyes were opened, she still couldn't make out the man's and the girl's faces because she was blinded by the sun's glaring light. A blue figure blocked the sun, granting her eyesight time to adjust into a gentle blur. "I see that you're awake now," stated the man. "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground you know." The girl giggled at his comment. "Here, give me your hand." A brown shape reached out to her. Using all of her strength, she lifted her arm and grab the figure. The rough feeling of leather enclosed around her hand. He pulled her close to him, allowing her debilitated eyes to focus on his face. First, she notice his long, dark blue hair that drastically contrasted with his pale skin. He beared strong bone structure, and seemingly unforgettable dark blue, eyes that once were gleaming. She gasped, letting go of his hand and falling to the ground. The man frantically apologized and hurried to lift her up again, taking hold of her elbows. He is the man from my dreams! she thought. Mouth agaped, she pondered over the man's face, evaluating if her mind was telling her the truth.

A crotchety looking man, dressed in full armor, came over and pulled the blue haired man away from her by his shirt; making her drop back onto her butt. "Oh, no you don't," the man denounced.

The blue man threw his arms, splaying them as he tried to get the older man off of him. Once he let go, the blue man quickly eased back into his previous composure. "Frederick, it's alright. We can't just leave her here," he contended.

"And I just can't let a stranger be among us, milord," Frederick apprised. "Just look at her," He detailed in a more hushed tone. "She doesn't look like she is from around here, does she? Her dark hair and skin; Plegia is written all over her."

"Aww, Frederick!" the young girl butted in, slouching her shoulders and head.

While the three of them bickered, she rubbed her throbbing butt. She stroked the back pocket of her light brown pants and felt the outline of a book. Unbuttoning the oversized pocket, she pulled out a red book with an image of flames encrusted in gold. The book was oddly similar to the book in her dreams. She immediately opened the book and search among pages. The text was written in a strange script and it obtain several sketches of men in robes and fire. Concerned that the book might have some significance behind it, she hid it back into her pocket.

She touched her hand to her brow and felt the sweat that rested above it. Taking her green shirt, she wiped her forehead which left stains of sweat and grime. She clumsily went to stand as she was still faint, drawing the blue man's attention. "Are you alright?" he asked, walking towards her as he extended his arm.

"Um, yes. Thank you," she replied, grabbing his hand and returning to his feet. Chrom! Chrom is his name. "Chrom." Her dry throat crackled and whistled when she spoke.

"Oh, then you know who I am?" Chrom inquired.

"Um, no. Not exactly. Your name just kind of... came to me?" she nervously answered, questioning herself.

"Oh. Well then, what is your name?"

"My name? Uhh... let me think. It's..." My name. What's my name? she asked herself.

Frederick scoffed. "This girl plays only a fool. So, we're to believe you remember milord's name but not your own?" he interrogated.

"I-"

"Frederick!" Chrom reproached, cutting her off. "What if she is telling the truth? We can't leave her here all alone and confused. What sort of Shepherds would we be then?"

"Yeah, Fredrick," ragged the girl. Wearing a yellow gown with an oversized white bow fasten on the back, she bounced her way to Frederick. Her wavy, blonde hair pursued her bounding movements. She wore a white hairpiece with strands of lace dangling down on both sides of her face. "Please, Frederick. Wait?!" She brought a finger to her chin. "Do I really have to beg? That's right, I don't. I just have to do THIS!" The girl slightly bent her knees and raised her face so Frederick could clearly see her expression. She tilted her head, widened her blue eyes, and stuck out her bottom lip.

Frederick looked to the sky and made a low groan. "Fine, milady."

The girl jumped with excitement. "Yes!"

"It's settled then," Chrom said, clasping his hands with a smile. He directed his attention back to the amnesic girl. "We'll take you back to town to get you something to eat. Then we can sort things out. Are you okay to walk?" She nodded.

"Hold still," Frederick ordered her. "I'll go get the rope then we'll-"

"Frederick!" Chrom exclaimed.

Frederick silently sighed. "Very well." Frederick immediately whistled and a horse came galloping to him. He petted then mounted the horse. "But you're walking next to me!" he demanded her.

Chrom followed the path ahead, leading way to the town that could be seen among the horizon. The blonde girl walked aside him as Frederick and her trailed closely behind. They traveled through a vast meadow filled with tall, grass and an assortment of flowers differing in color and sizes. She found delight in the view and thought it was a splendid first sight, since she couldn't remember anything else that would have surpassed it. Though she could not recall ever seeing a meadow, the sight, breeze, and smell seemed uncannily nostalgic.

While walking, Frederick begun to pick grass and twigs out of her hair that had gotten stuck from her lying on the ground. Ugh. What's the matter with this man, she thought, annoyed. She glared at Frederick because of his intrusiveness, but he made it evident that he paid no mind. She groaned, growing tired of Frederick and stared at the back of Chrom's head. She realized that he wasn't wearing his cape as he was in her dreams, which she deemed was a good thing. She thought it looked platitudinous. It's weird. In my dream his hair didn't look blue. I wonder how he dyes it? And why was I dreaming about him anyways? I don't remember ever seeing him before. Well, I can't really remember anything right now, can I? What happened to me? Did I get hit on the head? Mugged? Where am I? Who am I? The stress of her memory loss started to trouble her, so she tried to her best to distract herself. Okay, umm... Chrom. He seems nice... Do I think he's cute? He is quite handsome compared to the crotchety Frederick, that's for sure. And he-

Chrom interrupted her thoughts. "So, do you know where we are?" he asked still facing the path.

"No," she softly answered.

"This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. Our ruler is named Emmeryn. She is called the exalt and- oh, sorry." Chrom turned around to face her and started walking backwards. Frederick straightened his posture, watching over Chrom's footing. "I guess proper introductions are in order. My name is Chrom," he put his hand to his chest, "-but then, you already knew that." Waving his hand towards the blonde girl he introduced, "The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."

Lissa threw her hands up in the air. "I am not delicate!" she protested. To her, Lissa remarked, "Never mind my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes." Chrom chuckled and turned to walk straight again. "But good thing the Shepherds found you. Brigands would've been a rude awakening."

"Um, shepherds?" she questioned. "You tend sheep in full armor?" The grouped laughed.

"Well, it is a dangerous job," Chrom contended. "Just ask Frederick the Wary here... Frederick! Get your hands out of her hair," he exclaimed once taking notice of Frederick's pickings.

Frederick removed his hand and cleared his throat. "A title I wear proudly. Gods forbid that one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution."

"Yeah, yeah, Freddy," Lissa grumbled.

They entered the gateway of a town that was filled with a surplus of shops and markets that ran along the street's path; however the town appeared to be absent from any inhabitants. Chrom and Frederick exchanged glances of suspicion. A frail screech came from down an alley, along with frantic yelling. Smoke raised into the air and a male's voice was heard provocatively shouting, "Get to it lads! Grab anything shiny and put the rest to the torch! We got to set an example for these Ylissean types."

"Looks like we're in for some trouble," Chrom griped. Lissa ran over to Frederick's horse and took a long rod from its saddle. The top of the rod formed by an arched dip that held a glass sphere in the shape of a raindrop which scarcely hovered over the rod. Frederick grabbed his lance and Chrom and unsheathed his sword. Chrom turned to her. "Wait here," he ordered. "This should be quick." She watched the gang hustled down the alleyway as she comply stood, feeling of no use. She began to pace back and forth. At first, she did so to kill time; however, when she couldn't tolerate doing nothing any longer she searched for a weapon she could use to assist Chrom and the rest. She looked through the abandon markets with no luck, then she remembered the book in her pocket. I seemed very capable of using it my dream, she said to herself. And for all Chrom has done for me, it should be the least that I can do.

She darted through the passageway that led to the center of the town, where she saw a group of raggedy men filling carriages with bags and harassing two women. Chrom and Frederick, whom was still mounted on his horse, approached the men. Lissa remained near the entrance of the town's center, tightly gripping her rod. The men stopped transporting the bags and let go of the women as soon as they saw Chrom and Frederick. "Well, well, well, it looks like the sheep brought themselves to the slaughter," snigger the man who appeared to be the leader of the bandits.

"So, it appears as you already decided that you won't return the townsfolk's belongs and surrender?" Chrom assertively questioned.

The bandit grinned. "Nope."

Chrom softly smirked and nodded. "Very well." With a wave of the man's hand, the bandits came rushing past him, charging at Chrom and Frederick. They held their weapons high and made raucous battle cries. Chrom and Frederick were clearly outnumbered; even so, they handled the brawl with ease. They stood beside each other and anticipated for the bandit's attacks. Frederick would block any attack that Chrom couldn't defend, then Chrom would swoop onto the enemy as Frederick would either cover him or deliver the final blow. Frederick acted as a sturdy shield in combat while Chrom was more fluent. Despite Chrom's lack of speed, the strength he brought behind his sword was almost incomparable. She ran past Lissa as Lissa called for her to come back and she rushed to Chrom. "What are you doing out here?" Chrom demanded while Frederick carried out the fighting. "You need to get back with Lissa."

"I have this," she replied, holding out her book.

"You know how to read tomes?"

"I think so..." she said, unsure of herself.

"You think so!? Perhaps I'll just keep a few steps behind you."

"No. I-I can control it." She looked Chrom in the eye. "I'm sure." Chrom hesitated, but gave her a nod, granting her his trust. She started to bounce on her feet, letting loose the nerves that overtook her. Taking a deep breath, she opened the book and reached her hand out before her. Pronouncing what was written, she shouted, "Füoca!" Her hand radiated red as a flaming ball grew before it. She stared wide eyed at the flames whom illuminated her face as her hair flailed from the heat. With a dragged shout, she thrust her hand outwards and the fire soared to the man, igniting him in flames. She gasped, covering her mouth. The man screeched as Chrom rushed at him, finishing the fire's job. She felt ill as she saw him collapse to the ground.

Chrom looked back at her. "Not so bad." She closed the book and forced a smile, acting as if she knew what she was doing. Once Chrom faced the other way, she lost her posture and took a deep breath, digesting everything. You're alright, Robin. Just get all of this over with and you'll be alright. She rotated towards Chrom's direction, seeing six men aligned before them; four in front and two in the back. Other men, further behind the six, hurriedly filled the carriage. Chrom muttered, "We have to get through them before they leave with the carriage." She promptly study the group of men.

Chrom moved his sword out behind his back, as he seemed to do customly before attacking. "Wait, Chrom," she hollered, reaching her hand out. He turned and she quickly whipped her hand back at her side. "You can't just rush in there. Do you see those two men in the back," she informed, pointing. "They're ax throwers. They would be able to cut you down before you would be able to reach the other two."

"How can you tell?"

"By their clothes. They wear no armor and show their skin, which means they are not planning to actually engage in real combat, unlike the other men. The others seem to be wearing at least shoulder pads and use normal battle axes. Which is good because you have a sword," she mumbled. "I don't think I can use my... um... tome to get the ax throwers from this far away. So I would need you to go up with me and guard me while I'll go take them out. I would suggest Frederick to accompany me, but I think he'll rather take me out than the brigands."

Chrom stood to ruminate over the plan then nodded. "I'll go tell Frederick." Once Fredrick was notified, she received an aggravated glare from the crotchety man.

Chrom came to her side and indicated that he was ready to attempt the plan. He began running ahead of her, holding his shield to block the throwers attacks. One of the men carrying a battle ax charged at them. Chrom blocked the man's strike with his shield then abruptly jumped to the side to avoid being hit by an ax that was thrown at him. The bandit swung his ax again, silting Chrom's fore shoulder, and arm, then swung for a third time, bashing Chrom with the blunt end of his ax. The man stumbled after the blows, allowing her to move behind him and kick him to the ground. "Füoca!" Chrom bent onto his knees, breathing heavily. "Are you okay?" she intently asked.

"I'm fine," Chrom grunted, rising up. No remnants of his wounds could be found on his body. Confused, she was going to question how his wounds disappeared, but Chrom signaled for them to continue with their previous formation; Chrom guarding in front and her attacking from the rear.

Another man, with a long braid running along his back, advance towards them. She step from behind Chrom, giving her clearance to use her tome. The braided man leaped out of the way of her fire, allowing Chrom to attack while he was preoccupied. Chrom's shield was small enough for him to grab his sword with both hands and hack the man down. With no cover from Chrom, she promptly took out one of the two ax throwers before they could attack her. The last thrower hurled his ax at her. She was able to swiftly spin, dodging the ax and tossing back a fireball that finished him.

Her hair hung over her face which she continually had to move aside. When she did so, she realized that she became separated from Chrom. She stood at the edge of the town's plaza while Chrom battled in the center where more men left the carriage to fight. A sound of a thud immediately directed her attention behind her. There a burly man stood high upon a balcony, holding large dual hammers. "Füoca!" she shouted. Her vision flashed white for a moment and resolved into a blur, as she became more and more feeble from using the tome. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, hoping that she would recuperate her sight. Faintly, she saw that the man was able to evade her attack and lunged into the air. She dived forward, rolling underneath his fall. She alighted on her foot and knee, and sharply turn to attacked again with her tome. The fire flashed in her eyes, dispersing on the ground; completely missing the man. She woozily got up onto her feet and adjusted her eyes onto the man. The man stood straight, making a horrid, crooked smile. This isn't working, she thought. She frantically went through the pages of her book, searching for a different attack; however to no prevail, for her vision needed time to focus on the words. The man guffawed and weaved his hammer through his fingers as he ambled towards her.

What's the point? Each time I used this stupid thing the more fatigued I become. She removed her figure that was holding her place in the book and frantically scanned around looking for some kind of weapon that she could use for close combat. There was Frederick in the distance, watching her. She yelled and waved her hands to him. He didn't move. What!? Embarrassed by his unwillingness, she shied away from him, facing the man still walking towards her. Why does he despise me so much! What have I ever done to him? He's such a little bastard who thinks he's- her thoughts were ceased by the sight of the man's hammer swing, which she merely dodged by declining her body backwards. In mid motion of the attempted strike, she swung and thrust her body around to kick the man's arm. He staggered and she quickly kicked him from behind in the nads. He howled in pain, falling on one knee. She grabbed his arm and forced it behind his back higher and higher until his grip on the hammer loosened. Disarming him, she raised the hammer. The man turned, sweat pouring from his temples and veins bulging in his eyes as he let out a frail whimper. Visions abruptly flooded her mind. Images of a young, dark skinned boy smiling and laughing. A woman, who looked akin to herself, hysterically crying, being held back by two men. Then images of the many faces of the nameless dead.

Recovering her senses, she saw the man lying dead on the ground, being beaten on the head. She dropped the hammer in a puddle of red and rested her hands on her knees. She pulled back her hair and wiped the sweat and blood of of her forehead. You... you did good, she thought to herself as she stared at the blood on her arm. She gave herself a simulated smile, proud that she survived; nonetheless, she was haunted by the man's poignant face along with the many others. This isn't the first time you've done this, is it? she said to herself. Looking up, she saw Frederick, which converted her anguish into anger. She gave a repugnant glare at the man who simply raised a brow.

"Hey! Woman!" Chrom hollered. "They're leaving with the carriages!" The men scurried onto the departing carriages as she flung a fireball that burst it into flames. The horses became startled and stopped pulling the carriage as the men attempted to save the stolen items from the fire. Other men charged Chrom, who was the closet person to them. Chrom readied his stance and brought his sword to his face; however, Frederick sprinted past him, fending off the rest of the men. Chrom relaxed, putting his sword back into its sheath. He turned and walked towards her with such a determinative demeanor, she didn't know whether to feel reassured or intimidated. Panting, he said, "Not... too bad for one-"

Suddenly, from behind of Chrom, she saw an ax arise in the air. With a shout, she shoved Chrom and stopped the attack with the spine of her opened book. The blade of the man's ax was only several inches away from her face as she desperately pushed her tome up against the handle of the ax. She roared through her teeth as she felt the man's strength overpower hers. The man released the pressure he pursued behind the ax, making her stumble forward. He then hit her across the legs which made her fly off her feet. She hastily dispelled fire at the man, not allowing herself to catch her fall. Falling head first, her body slammed onto the ground.

Her surroundings shined bright as Chrom's figure rushed to her. "Are you okay?" His voice grew dimmer as he came closer to her. "Hey!" And her vision began to darken.

I sit alone in a small room. I look down at my quivering hands whom are cradled in my lap. An empty chair lays before me. The door opens and a tall woman walks in wearing a long black dress. She sighs, approaches the chair, then sits. The woman has a thin, beige skinned face with purple markings along her cheeks and forehead. Her white, thin hair hangs straight down both sides of her temples to below her breast. "Hello, my darling," she says with a chilling smile. "I must say you're making quite of the event today. Many people were waiting for the day of your return," she made an eerie laugh. "May I ask for your name?"

I hesitated. "Robin."

Robin woke to Lissa hovering over her. "Chrom, she's awake!"

Robin lifted her throbbing head that rested upon a rock. She looked to Chrom who was trying to get through the crowd of townspeople then to Lissa who had a rag soaked in blood sitting in front of her. Lissa took notice of Robin's stare and gently smiled. "Don't worry, it isn't yours."

Robin began to stand to meet with Chrom. "Woah, slow down there," Chrom instructed as he approached, waving his hands downwards. He came and crouched by Robin who laid her head back on the rock. "You did not too bad for a person who we just found in a middle of a field." He grinned.

"You didn't do bad yourself. Are they all gone?" Robin asked, trying to look past Chrom's body that covered her view.

"Yes. Me, Frederick, and some of the townsmen took care of the rest of them while Lissa tended to your wounds."

"Not that I needed to," Lissa added. "You were incredible out there and barely earned yourself a scratch."

Robin glanced upon Chrom's arm and saw that his wounds still didn't show. "Chrom what happened to your arm? I saw the man hit you, but your arm seemed to healed like magic."

Chrom and Lissa laughed. "It was magic," Chrom answered. "Lissa healed me with her staff."

"You can use magic!" Robin exclaimed, amazed.

"You know the times you been using, they are magic too," Lissa giggled.

"What?! So I've been using magic this entire time?" They both nodded, clutching their stomachs from laughing. Robin's mind was blown.

Chrom stood. "You take as much rest as you need, I'll be over here tending to the townspeople."

"Wait, Chrom," Robin said, raising up her hand. "I remembered my name."

Chrom squatted back down again. "Well, don't keep me hanging. What is it?"

"Robin," she confirmed.

"Robin. I like that. It's much better than 'woman'. And I'm so sorry about that. In the heat of battle I didn't know anything better to call you."

"No, that's alright. I would've done the same. But, I would've called you a man of course, because you're... a..." Both Chrom and Robin snickered at Robin's awkwardness.

Lissa rose to her feet. "Okay, I better leave you two lovebirds alone-"

"Lissa!" Chrom yelled, face flushing red. Lissa shrugged and walked towards the townspeople. Lovebirds? Does she really think Chrom actually likes me? "Need help up?" he asked Robin with a sigh.

"No, thank you," Robin answered, suddenly feeling the need to act independent.

Robin stood as one of the townspeople yelled, "She is alive!" The crowd of town's folk gathered before her erupted in applause. Robin's mouth became agape as she gave a choppy wave to the crowd, not knowing what else to do. She saw Frederick rolling his eyes at her as she smirked and wiggled her fingers at him in reply.

Chrom went to his sword that was dug halfway into the ground. The sword had a golden, squared pommel and a red grip. Following the hilt comes the blade that separates into two and comes back together in a circular pattern, leaving a hole in the middle of the metal. Around the circle and the fuller is outlined in gold. "Are you sure you should wedge your sword in the ground like that?" Robin queried.

"Oh, no. This is the Falchion. It is a sword past down in my family for generations that never falters or breaks," he answered while pulling it from the ground.

"Which is a good thing," Lissa begun to add, "because Chrom tends to break things when he gets angry."

"I do not!" Chrom objected.

"Yeah, says that tree that you almost hacked down last week for losing your dinner to Frederick," she snorted.

"That was an accident," Chrom argued.

"Oh, yeah. Tell that brutalized tree that it was 'an accident'." Chrom groaned.

Frederick approached them from behind. "Did you notice, milord? The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent. I didn't figure that they'll make their course all the way down here."

"Plegian? What's that?" Robin asked.

"Plegia is Ylisse's westerly neighbor. They send small bands into our territory, hoping to instigate a war," Chrom explained.

"And it's the poor townsfolk who suffer!" Lissa said exasperated. "Totally innocent and helpless..."

"They do have us, milady," advised Frederick. "The Shepherds to protect the sheep. Do not be swept up in your anger. It will cloud your judgment."

"I know, I know... Don't worry! I'll get used to all this eventually."

A town's man rushed to the group. "Milord, please! You must stay the night! We are simple folk of simple means, but we would gladly toast your valor with a feast!" he insisted.

Frederick answered, "A most generous offer, sir, and no doubt your hospitality would be grand... But I'm afraid we must hurry back to Ylisstol."

"Dark meat only for me, medium well, and no salt in the soup, please," Lissa babbled, "I simply- wait, what?! We're not staying? But Frederick, it's nearly dark!"

"We need to continue if we plan to make it back to Ylisstol in time. And when night falls, we'll camp. Eat off the land, make our bed of twigs and the like," Frederick responded. "I believe you mentioned you would be 'getting used to this'?"

"I also said eventually! Frederick... sometimes I hate you." Robin hummed in agreement.

"You have quite the stern lieutenant there," Robin remarked.

"Yeah, well, stern is one name for it," Lissa added. "I can think of a few others!"

"Frederick only smiles when he's about to bring down the ax," Chrom quipped.

"That... will be noted," Robin noted.

Frederick cleared his throat to gain their attention. "You do realize I am still present?"

"Oh, we realize," Chrom cheekily said. The girls laughed.

"Milord, you remain as amusing as ever. Now then, shall we be going?" They all nodded.