Update! If you're coming here from Liirin's or galia-and-kitty's (or my!) DeviantArt, welcome! I hope you enjoy the story as much as the lovely illustrations that go along with it.

Author's Note

This preface was added retroactively to address the development of this story. This is a novelization of Fire Emblem: Awakening – in early chapters, you'll find that it follows the source content relatively 1:1. My purpose here was to delve further into character development for the many wonderful individuals who appear in FE:A, to flesh out the great potential that the original plot provides. This required a certain amount of backbone and setup from the source; as a result, the first few chapters read much like a prettied-up script, laced with all the campy joy that is Fire Emblem. But in the true spirit of a Classic run of FE, be prepared for more than a few darker turns than what one would see in the game. There's no save-scumming here.

Exactly two years and two days passed from my initial posting of Chapter 1 to the final upload of Chapter 25 and the epilogue, on this website Over those two years, my writing improved drastically, and the characters grew in directions that even I didn't foresee when I was going through original drafting ideas. I found myself diverting from the original storyline to facilitate a narrative that lends itself to storytelling, as opposed to gameplay . We can't truly fault Nintendo for the way the story unfolds in the occasionally clunky manner, because a turn-based RPG tends to prioritize gameplay – and rightfully so .

That being said, it has been such a fantastic and nourishing experience to work on this project. This final draft is dedicated to all my wonderful readers who supported me "live" as each chapter rolled out, for their patience when I'd go on unpredictable hiatus, and for their constant feedback and encouragement. And a special thanks to galia-and-kitty and Liirin, the fantastic artists that helped breathe and paint this story into life. You'll find their artwork in this e-book, but I encourage you to take the time to check them out on DeviantArt as well!

I digress. Thanks for clicking, and happy reading!

The lovely cover image is a commission from Liirin as well :)

And here's the link to the illustration gallery for this story! (BEWARE SPOILERS!)
(remove spaces, use . ) imgur (dot com) /a/2Wdq0

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem, nor any of the characters. Any excerpts of dialogue matching the original script belongs to them. They can have my original dialogue too, if they want.

"Up there!"

Her cloak billowed around her frame as she whipped around and looked to where Chrom had Falchion pointed. Validar had phased away from Chrom's last strike, blinking to the air above them. He laughed.

"You fool... Die!"

The Grimleal cast a dark spell, and an orb of purple energy hurtled towards Chrom. She reacted with a counter-spell, a sphere of lightning that intercepted the orb and exploded both in a shower of fading lights. Validar hissed and teleported across the hall.

"Let's move," Chrom shifted his grip on his blade and took off towards the enemy. She met his eyes and with a brief nod, followed suit, but staggered back as an eddy of black smoke signaled Validar teleporting between her and Chrom, separating them.

"Why do you resist?" he purred, closing the distance between them in a shadow-cloaked step. "You cannot un-write what is already written." His hand latched itself to the side of her jaw, tipping her chin up with one claw-like finger.

His dark, resonating aura crept around the edges of her mind. She pushed it back, steeling herself as she stared at her reflection in his rufescent eyes, silhouetted against the darkness of the chamber. Her mind began to turn, like clockwork, as she formulated a plan. She set her jaw, forced herself to relax her shoulders, and slowly reached a hand towards him, palm up, as if to return his gesture.

"Don't!" Chrom shouted, already sprinting back towards them.

Smiling, Validar reached up to take her extended hand, and at the same moment, she drew her blade with her free hand and plunged the Levin Sword into his chest. His eyes widened in shock, and he released her hand to clutch at the jagged blade protruding from his ribs. Drawing her other hand back, she spread her fingers towards him, casting another spell: "THORON!"

Validar flew across the room, hitting the wall with a dull thud, and Chrom reached her. "You had me worried there," he laughed, grasping her forearm. She offered him a reassuring smile, and he opened his mouth to speak again.

A strange premonition shifted her gaze behind him. Validar fell to his knees, clouds of purple and black magic swirling around him as his life faded away. Drawing in a rasping breath, he looked up to her. Her blood ran cold.

"This isn't over... Damn you BOTH!" As his body dissipated, another bolt of dark magic shot across the room towards Chrom, who was still turned towards her, a smile on his face. With no time to shout a warning, she threw herself forwards, casting him out of the way. He fell, his expression of shock illuminated by the violet light that lasted only a moment longer before disappearing into her chest.

She was engulfed by darkness for a moment, and when she opened her eyes blearily, she was on the ground, though she did not remember falling. Chrom's hand was on her back, pulling her up into a sitting position and straightening out her legs from where they had crumpled under her. She blinked a couple of times, feeling the softness of her hood framing her face.

"Are you alright? That's the end of him... It's over, we can rest easy now." He smiled and brushed his hand across her cheek. She started to move her hand to cover his, returning his expression, but froze abruptly, stiffening, eyes widening as her vision clouded and her head throbbed violently. Her breath caught in her throat, and she jerked backwards. Chrom grabbed her hand.

"What's wrong?" His voice sounded muffled, distant. A panic began to replace his smile as her head throbbed again and she was down on her elbows, the red shadows overtaking her vision. "Hey, hang o—"

Chrom's voice cut off in a choked cry, and he released her hand. Her vision cleared, and she saw the remnants of a lightning spell dying out across her fingertips, and Chrom's hands wrapped around the bolt in his chest. She dragged her eyes away from her hand to look at him speechlessly.

He let out a gasp, and she tried to stand and run to his side, to do something, anything, but she was rooted to the ground. Chrom sank to his knees. "This is not your—your fault..."

She shook her head violently, tears slipping haphazardly from her cheeks. He moved a trembling hand from his chest, and reached out to grasp at both of hers, squeezing weakly. She looked down, unable to bear the emotion in his eyes, and saw his lifeblood on his hand, smearing across her palm. "Promise me..." his voice was hoarse, his breath coming with great difficulty. "Promise me— that you'll escape from this place... please..." She looked up to meet his eyes once before they slid shut, and the exalt slumped to the floor.

She screamed his name, but no sound left her lips. Instead, the room was filled with Validar's dark laughter as she wilted over Chrom's body. She felt the wetness on her cheeks stirred by an otherworldly wind, and her hood fell back, away from her face. She looked towards its source, towards the altar.

"Claim your destiny, my child... Give yourself to your fate."

She heard his voice not in her ears, but in her mind, as the darkness crept towards her heart. She looked once more towards Chrom's face, and her heart sank deeper into her chest, giving way to a stygian void. Rising slowly to her feet, she tore her eyes from his lifeless form and set her gaze on the altar.

•

•

•

"Chrom, we have to do SOMETHING!"

"Well, what do you propose we do?"

That voice...

"I... I dunno... Pick her up, I guess! You can't just leave her out here."

There was a rustling sound, and then she felt an arm slip under her shoulders, lifting her slightly.

"Nngh..." With a small noise of discomfort, she cracked her eyes open. Looming above her was a young, blue-haired man, dressed in light armor and a silver pauldron, reflecting the garish sunlight. Seeing her eyes open, he paused.

"Oh, you're awake now." The man smiled. Another face peeked over his shoulder, a blonde-haired, petite girl with a childish face.

The girl giggled. "Hey there!"

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know." He pulled her up to a sitting position, "Here, give me your hand." She blinked a few times more, her vision clearing, and lifted her hand into his.

As he pulled her smoothly upright, her eyes flitted down briefly to the strange, dark purple mark on the back of her hand, but he seemed to pay it no mind. For a moment she stood there, a little unsteady on her feet, his face markedly close to hers. She took a couple of steps back.

He regarded her curiously as she shuffled backwards. "You all right?"

"Yeah... thank you, Chrom."

"Ah! Then you know who I am? And would you care to introduce yourself?"

"Hm?" She blinked, and suddenly drew a blank. "I... it's strange, your name just... came to me. And my name is..." She furrowed her brow, and a lingering throb of pain pulsed through her forehead. She winced. "I'm sorry, but where am I, exactly?"

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "You don't know your own name?"

"Hey, I've heard of this kind of thing before!" the girl exclaimed, nudging him. "It's called amnesia!"

"It's called a load of Pegasus dung." A gruff voice hailed the approach of a broad-shouldered man clad in plate armor. "We're to believe that you remember milord's name, but not your own?"

"It's the truth." she shifted her weight, trying to keep her voice level, but fingered the fringe of her hood nervously.

She saw Chrom studying her for a moment, and hoped that he did not mistake her fear and confusion for the actions of an incompetent liar. He kept his eyes on her as he addressed the knight. "But what if it is true, Frederick? What sort of Shepherds would leave a woman out here, alone and confused?"

The knight huffed. "All the same, milord, I should advise caution. It would not do to let a wolf into our flock."

Chrom hesitated for a moment, then spoke again. "We'll take her back to town, hear what she has to say, and figure out what to do then," he decided abruptly, and with a nod, the three started to walk back along the road.

"Wait, what?" She startled and frowned, walking quickly behind them. "What will you do with me? Does this mean I'm your prisoner?"

Chrom laughed lightly. "No, no, no. You'll be free to go once we establish that you're not an enemy of the halidom."

"The halidom?" she echoed.

"You've never heard of Ylisse?" Frederick laughed. "Someone pay this actress. She plays quite the fool! The slightly agape mouth and wide eyes are especially convincing." Her frown deepened.

"Frederick, please," Chrom said, placing a hand on the knight's pauldron, before smiling kindly back at the woman. "This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse, ruled by the Exalt, Emmeryn." She nodded, and he continued, "I suppose proper introductions are in order. My name is Chrom—," he paused, and gave her a curious look, "...but you already knew that. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa— ow,"

"I am NOT delicate!" She whupped her staff against her brother's back in protest. "Hmph. Ignore him, he's a bit thick at times. But you're lucky the Shepherds found you, rather than some brigands. That would've been a rude awakening."

"...Shepherds?" She raised an eyebrow. "You tend sheep, in full armor?"

"It's a dangerous job," Chrom smiled. He had an easy, genuine, and slightly asymmetrical smile, his eyes crinkling slightly and one corner of his mouth turning a little further up than the other. "Just ask Frederick the Wary here."

"A title I shall wear with pride," Frederick scowled. "Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution." He half-turned to address her. "I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise."

"I understand. I would do the same." She halted in her steps, a bubble of memory popping at the surface of her mind. "Oh... my name is... Elysa. I just – I just remembered that."

"Elysa?" Chrom repeated. "That's a lovely name. We—"

Lissa interrupted him with a cry. "Chrom! Look! The town!"

They turned to where she pointed. Just down the road, smoke rose from behind the treetops, and Elysa could make out the vague shapes of roofs, ablaze and crackling.

"Damn it!" Chrom cursed, "The brigands, no doubt... Frederick, Lissa, quickly!" He put his hand to the hilt of his blade, which caught her attention for a moment – rather than a traditional guard, the sword had an ornate, hollow circle separating the grip and pommel from the steel. It had an ancient, archaic look to it, and she felt a strange, powerful aura when she looked at it.

"Milord," Frederick hesitated, pulling on the reins of his horse, which chuffed in protest. "What about her?" He jerked his thumb towards Elysa, who flinched. But Chrom was already down the road.

"Frederick, unless she's on fire as well, it can wait!" he shouted over his shoulder. Lissa took off after him, kicking up small eddies of dust as she ran.

"Aptly put," Frederick grumbled, swinging up into the saddle with the sound of chafing plate armor, and cantered down the road to catch up with the other two so-called Shepherds.

"Wait—" Elysa tried to call out, but the three were already rounding a bend in the road. She walked over to the edge of the path and sighed, staring into the river. "Hm?"

Taking in her reflection, recognition resurfaced. She was dressed in the dark robes of a battle-tactician, and on her waist she bore a simple bronze sword and tome. Her hair was long, gathered half-up, and just a shade or two darker than Chrom's. It was also a disgruntled mess, with bits of grass stuck in it here and there. She flushed slightly in embarrassment. Why didn't any of them say anything?

As she meekly attempted to weed out the tangled bits of green and smooth out her hair, she pulled out the tome. The runes were familiar and simple; lightning magic. She glanced up at the rising smoke from the town ahead.

I'd bet I know my way around a fight well enough. Without a further thought, she took off where the others had gone.

Approaching the town's small walled perimeter uncontested, she made her way to the town square. Sizing up the wreckage, she noted the small footbridge crossing the stream that separated the settlement. Chrom and Frederick were fighting bandits on the near side, while Lissa stood a little behind them, lifting her staff to mend their wounds even as they came. Elysa started towards them, but halted when she heard a scream from her left.

"S-stay away from me! Please!" A village girl had her back to the stream, one foot up against the small ledge. She trembled as a male bandit chuckled and moved towards her, a small, wickedly curved dagger in hand.

"Play along, my little lovely, and I won't hurt you... much."

Elysa narrowed her eyes, flipped her tome open in her left hand and cast with the right. The bandit was struck square in the back, and staggered slightly. The village girl took this opportunity to sprint past and scurry to the shelter of a nearby house. By the time the bandit had recovered, she had another spell prepared, and was already closing the distance. The man growled gutturally, his teeth bared in a snarl as he turned his dagger to meet her.

She loosed the second bolt of thunder at his arm, catching him in the shoulder, turning him slightly off-center for her to follow up with a slash across his now-open chest. The dagger fell to the dirt road with a soft clink, echoed by the thud of the bandit's body.

"Elysa!" She looked up. Chrom called out to her, having defeated the brigands across the way. Frederick had Lissa on the back of his saddle and was making towards the footbridge. "You followed us! ...why?"

"I'm... not sure. But if you'll have me, I'd like to help." She tipped her head slightly towards the downed bandit.

"Of course. Stay close!" She moved to his side. They took off after Frederick and Lissa, who were plowing through the remaining brigands. Elysa's attention was drawn to the cathedral centered at the back of the square, where a rugged-looking man was twirling his axe, a bit away from the fray.

"There," she indicated to Chrom with a nudge. "That's their leader. If we take him down, the others will probably scatter."

"Right," Chrom nodded, and sprinted forwards. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bandit running towards him, and she caught up and pulled her blade into a parry, nudging Chrom out of the way. He staggered for a moment in surprise, then with a growl, turned and stabbed his blade through the bandit's back. "Thanks," he huffed, with a nervous laugh. "Wasn't paying enough attention. Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Don't worry about me; I'm fine, Chrom."

"You've lent us your strength, and for that, you're a friend. And having an ally by my side gives me courage." He clapped her shoulder, the earnestness of his words reflected in his glance. She nodded briefly in appreciation, catching herself with a smile before hurrying onwards, towards the brigand's leader.

He caught sight of her and grasped his axe more firmly. "Here, sheepy-sheepy... come to the slaughter!" He charged them then, and she loosed another bolt of lightning magic. Raising his axe to block it, he growled, and launched a jumping leap towards her, past Chrom, who made a glancing blow at the bandit captain's flank.

"Rrrgh!" He growled in pain, but did not falter, his momentum carrying him forwards. Elysa reached for her blade for a parry, knowing it would come a bit too late. But then there was a sickening crunching noise, and a dull thud as the brigand's body fell to the stone, Frederick's spear through his side. His eyes widened, he coughed once, shuddered, and was still.

She looked up to where the spear flew from, and caught sight of the mounted knight approaching from the bridge. "Thanks," Elysa breathed, lowering her tome with a shaking hand.

"Hmph." Frederick grunted, barely nodding in acknowledgement. "That's the end of that."

As the bloodrush of the fight began to leave her, Elysa's eyes wandered the battlefield. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the blood staining the edge of her sword, felt the magic slipping away, and an unsettled feeling drifted over her mind. It all felt oddly right; she felt strangely at home on the battlefield. The mental dissonance didn't come from any sense of repulsion or gut-wrenching remorse at the scattered corpses, but moreso... the lack thereof. Not that she'd found any pleasure in taking lives, but—

"Holy WOW, Elysa!" Lissa jumped off of the back of the warhorse and ran up to her, taking one of Elysa's hands in both of hers, shaking the tactician from her reverie. "Swords and sorcery; is there anything you can't do?"

"You're certainly no helpless victim, that's for sure." Chrom wiped his blade down and slid it back into its sheath.

"Perhaps she's even capable of an explanation of who she is and how she got here." Frederick added.

Elysa sighed. "I understand your skepticism, Sir Frederick. And I can't explain why only some things have come back to me. But I've shared all that I know; and even if it seems unlikely, that's all I have to offer... please."

Chrom stepped between them, looking up at the knight. "She fought to save Ylissean lives. My heart says that's enough. Frederick, the Shepherds could use someone with Elysa's talents. We've got brigands and unruly neighbors, all looking to bloody our soil. Would you really have us lose such an able tactician? Besides, I believe her story, odd as it might be."

She was surprised at his vote of confidence. "Oh... T-thank you, Chrom." She ducked her head. "I'd be honored to join you."

Frederick sighed in admission. "Milord, did you notice that the brigands spoke with a Plegian accent?" He changed the subject abruptly.

"Plegian?" Elysa inquired.

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

"And the townsfolk are the ones who suffer!" Lissa cried. "They're totally innocent, and helpless, and..."

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

Lissa sighed. "I know, I know... Don't worry. I'll get used to all this. Eventually..."

A small crowd of villagers had assembled. "Milord, please! You must stay the night! We are simple folk of simple means, but we would gladly toast your valor with a feast!"

Lissa brightened immediately. "Dark meat only for me please, and no salt in the soup. I'm 'allergic' to mushrooms of every kind, and I greatly dislike daikon, but I love carrots! I'll have—"

"A generous offer, good sir, but I'm afraid we'll must make our way back to Ylisstol," Frederick interrupted.

"What?! But it's nearly dark!" Lissa whined.

Frederick looked over at her. "When night falls, we'll camp. Eat off the land, make our bed of twigs and the like... I believe you mentioned you would be 'getting used to this'?" He gave her a teasing wink.

"And you're not allergic to mushrooms..." Chrom muttered, his brow furrowing. "You're just a picky eater."

"Frederick, sometimes I hate you," Lissa pouted. She turned back to Elysa. "He never smiles unless he's about to bring down the axe, and he's stubborn and stern and—oh, I could think of a few other choice words..."

Frederick cleared his throat. "Milady remains amusing as ever. Shall we get going?"

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