Having to react quickly, the young Queen planted her ancestral sword in the ground, using it as a break for the momentum, barely being able to steady herself before another blast of lightning magic rushed her way.
In one swift motion, the young woman rolled to her side, clutching her weapon as it was pulled off the soft dirt, the thunderous ball of energy zooming past her.
Too many close calls already, and not one hit in her favor… Lucina was under no illusion about how hopeless and desperate her struggle would be, though she'd chosen to bear it all the same.
"I suppose you could quit now, or keep squirming against my hold... your choice," the bemused voice declared, walking across the gravel and dust clouds their previous attack had stirred up.
"More lives are attached to my victory than my own. I cannot surrender!" she exclaimed, quickly swooshing Falchion through the air in an act of defiance as she stood her ground, feet ready to react accordingly.
A smirk could be seen under the tactician's hood, and a flash on their hand, though brief, signaled their next movement, before they disappeared completely from her sight.
Lucina held her sword with both hands, in front of her, and was thusly able to defend against the sinister figure, who pressed their steel against hers.
"I must praise your skills. You've learned well, princess," they noted, a mixture of disgust and mockery in their timber.
"Better than you could even imagine," she retorted, clenching her teeth as she held them off. "They are not perfect, but they and this blade are all I have left of the father you've murdered, Robin."
For a split second, the Lord could have sworn she'd seen a frown appear on her enemy's face, but it quickly changed into yet another smirk.
"You are indeed better than him, this I can confirm," they taunted, but Lucina's trust in her father would not be shaken that easily.
"Maybe it's because you never gave him a chance to fight you. He wouldn't. You were their friend and you used him. You betrayed his trust and offed him in cold blood… do not speak of his skills so lightly!" she uttered, before sliding Falchion against the former-tactician's silver sword, and breaking their balance, before moving on to a side-slash.
Finally she had made contact, as the gash in the fell being's torso could attest to. What seeped from the wound was not blood, however, but a strange lavender miasma, that the Queen back stepped to avoid, weary of what tricks the being could pull.
"I would almost begin to worry, yet it is such a delight to engage you in combat, Lucina," Robin sneered, tongue licking the seams of their lips. What once were a human and a friend, was clearly long ago lost. "Perhaps you would have more fun with my guest than with me, however. I would be remiss as a host not to introduce them to you."
Lucina raised a brow at the comment. What could they mean by that? No matter, she would end them while they talked.
Lowering her blade to the ground, the young woman ran towards the cloaked individual, ready to deliver the decisive blow.
A magic circle appeared on the ground before Robin, and a corresponding one was summoned in front of them. Lucina stopped her run before she could step into the seal, yet the ground shook and almost took her off balance.
A heavy wooden object began slowly emerging from where the circle had been placed. A casket, from what she could tell. Lucina's eyes then widened in shock at the sight, her brand becoming fully visible in her left pupil… the very same brand that was engraved on the casket before her.
"No… oh gods no!" was all Lucina could utter, as its lid slid off, falling to the floor with a heavy thud.
There she stood, peaceful and regal-looking even in death, wrapped in funeral wreaths instead of the usual ensemble Lucina had seen in paintings.
Her skin was as curdled milk, and a dull red light shone were her eyes once were, though her likeness was very much preserved, whether intentionally by the fell one or not.
"A-Aunt Emmeryn..." Lucina incredulously whispered under her breath.