Author's Notes: I started writing this fanfiction a few years ago and decided to try to pick it up again and post it on this website. This is the first work that I'm publishing so please go easy on me!
This is a Fire Emblem Awakening fanfic with an original character in place of Robin. It will follow the plot real closely so I'm sorry if you're not a fan a re-hashing. However, I am trying to put extra details in between the lines so that the story will still seem fresh and new.
I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening in any means at all. I do however own my Original Character and any changes I make to the plot (There will be few).
Plus, for story reasons, I changed Grima into a female. Sorry if that irks you.
I hope you will enjoy!
Validar
To watch the shadows of the flames lick the bones of the ancient dragon's skeleton was all but too mesmerizing. Validar watched them for a time, spellbound by it's beauty. The night sky was dotted with faint white stars pressed up against a pitch black canvas.
How delightful, he thought to himself. Ironic that so many points of light have appeared, as if to bear witness to the beginning of perpetual darkness. Yes, it was perfect.
"My lord? The time has come."
Validar snapped out of his reverie and turned to his lovely associate. Young Aversa was one of his finest followers. Her looks alone were enough to be impressive; her lone white hair stark against her ebony skin and flashing hazel eyes. Tall, graceful, elegant… it was obvious why most men followed her. However, Aversa is as deadly as she is beautiful, capable of wielding both a lance and magic atop a flying steed, sparing no mercy to blasphemers. Validar wished he had a hundred more servants like her.
He smiled wickedly.
"Indeed, it has. Gather the Grimleal, and let us begin."
Within moments, the rest of Validar's followers gathered within the heart of the skeleton, giving over a hundred men ample room. They surrounded the fire at the dragon's heart, fueled by the corpses of the wicked. All were dressed in black, hooded robes that showed little of their features, save their hands. They turned their attention to their leader.
"Mages! Begin the chant." Validar commanded.
A dozen hooded figures stepped forward. In perfect synchronization, they pulled out their ancient dark tomes from within their robes. As commanded, they began to chant. The melody droned into the night. Their lyrics haunted the desert sands. Validar grinned. It would not be long now.
Aversa stirred.
"Are you sure this ritual will succeed?"
"Of course it will work!" Validar snapped. "The timing is perfect. All of the pieces are in place. A hundred corpses, the Chant of Truth, and my blood to guide them! No one will stop me now!"
Aversa paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Finally, she cooed,
"No one doubts your capabilities my lord. And certainly no one blames you for your wife's… weakness. I only wish to say that with a ritual of this magnitude-"
Validar looked at her sharply, and immediately she leashed her tongue. As a reward for her unshakable loyalty, he chose to soften his next words.
"My dear Aversa, the manner of which things occur is irrelevant. All events in life are already assigned as they are meant to be. Nothing can change the fate of humanity." He sighed. "It is true that my wife's betrayal… complicated things. But it is of no consequence. It is futile to resist what has already been written. We may have taken a different approach, but our path remains the same. Our god will be reborn." He turned his attention to the flames. "It may just take more time to do it."
The answer seemed to satisfy her, and she followed his gaze.
"I wonder how far she will come from? Or rather… how far forward?"
"It doesn't matter,' Validar said. He turned his gaze now onto the back of his right hand. The mark of the holy symbol on his skin always gave him comfort. It was a sign that he was one of the chosen. His bloodline would house the majesty herself in this world. And tonight, his prayers to see his deity for his own eyes will be answered.
At that moment, the mages' chant reached it's loudest note. The sound of the arcane language boomed into the night. Then suddenly, they all stopped. Validar stepped forward toward the flames. All eyes were on him as he held his hands in the air.
"My faithful servants!" he called. "Long have you waited for this night! Tonight, the reign of Naga and her blasphemus bloodline will end! Tonight, our fell dragon will return! Grima will rise! And she will! Have! Her! VENGENCE!"
The Grimleal roared and threw up their hands. Validar pulled a knife out form his cloak and pressed it against the palm of his hand that carried his birthmark.
"Grima," he whispered. "My blood is yours to take. Let it guide your chosen vessel to this world. Let it bring her to me!"
With a dramatic flourish, he cut his hand. All at once, a wraith-like energy emitted form the wound rushed into the fire. The flames turned violet, and shot up into the sky. They twirled and blew apart into the night. Then they began to swirl, and Validar watched with euphoria as saw the fabric of time itself change before his eyes.
But then something happened that no one expected. The flames began to shutter. Then, before anyone could react, they flashed a brilliant white, and vanished into the night.
There was a moment's pause.
"What happened?" Aversa asked.
Validar continued to stare. He untensed his muscles.
"Another complication…"
Jessica
"Jessica! There's someone at your till."
"Oh, oops!"
Jessica left the box that she was filling and strted toward her assigned till. She greeted the elderly woman who was waiting patiently with a cart full of groceries.
"Sorry about the wait, ma'am! Do you have member number?"
It was a typical August day. Hot, humid, and full of lively people out enjoying the fleeting opportunities of summer. Jessica would always be amazed at how many of these lively people took advantage of their freedom to go grocery shopping. Then again the store did have wonderful air conditioning. She usually still needed to wear a sweater while she was working.
"Here's your receipt." Jessica quickly tore the slip from the debit machine and gave her award-winning smile. "Have a nice day!"
"Thank you, dear." replied the woman. "And thank you for your wonderful service! You're such a pleasant girl!"
Jessica blushed as she thanked her back. She got compliments for her service more often than most of her other co-workers. While she appreciated the sentiment, it did have it's down sides.
"Jessica! What are you doing?!"
For example.
A short girl with long brown hair tucked into a ponytail marched up to her. Before she got started, Jessica said:
"I was tending to a customer, Danielle-"
"We have deliveries to box up and you're just sitting here!" she barked, with her hands on her hips.
"Like I said, I was just-"
"And now you have another person at your till! You're supposed to work! Not just sit there! Now go!" And on that note, she turned her heel in a superior manner and left with a huff.
Jessica took a deep breath before turning to her new customer. Danielle has been working at the store for a year longer than she. However, Jessica's work ethic got her more notice form both customers and co-workers alike. So naturally, rather than work harder as one would logically assume was an appropriate response, Danielle did everything in her power to make sure Jessica looked bad. Whenever Jessica was doing something for work, Danielle would command her to do another. Whenever Jessica was chatting politely with a customer while bagging their purchases, Danielle would try to steer the conversation to center her instead. Whenever Jessica tried to help Danielle when she was overwhelmed, she'd bark at her saying she was fine. Jessica tried being nice. Then she tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Then she simply tried to ignore her. And yet she still persisted. Nothing was working.
Jessica considered reporting her harassment several times. She knew she should, but standing up for herself was something she never knew how to do. It came form her childhood.
Jessica grew up in an orphanage in a small town. She never knew why her birth parents gave her up. Never cared either. All she knew was that for whatever reason, good or bad, they couldn't be together. That was good enough for her. Unfortunately, being the only red-headed child in a mixed orphanage of primarily athletic children; her environment wasn't the best to grow up in. No one shared her interests either. When they she was young and all of the children her age would run in the back fields chasing a soccer ball, Jessica would swing on the swing set and dream of a fantasy world to play in. To belong in. When the children got older and took ballet lessons or played hockey, she would stay home and listen to music. When they were all teenagers, coping with the same problems that all children who were not yet adopted by going to parties and drinking themselves sick, Jessica would still be home and dove into any history book she could get her hands on.
She didn't know why but history, particuarily war history, always fascinated her. She would save her money to buy Dungeons and Dragons maps and figurines to create scenarios and reinact them, or come up with strategies of her own. It became a rather unique but addicting hobby. Perhaps it was because they were the only battles she could win.
The children of the orphanage came and went, but there was always someone to antagonize her.
"Oh, look! The book loving freak is still here!"
"No one wanted you again?"
"It's because you aren't pretty like me!"
"You need to speak up or no one is ever going to love you!"
"I won't be adopted if I'm standing next to the freak!"
"Why even bother? Just leave!"
"No one wants you!"
"Just drop dead!"
…No one at school shared her interests either. And she didn't have any friends there, only more enemies. Not even the teachers and social workers had her side.
She tried standing up for herself when she was younger, but back then she had quite the temper. After she dispensed a few bruised she received much more from the teachers. She learned very quickly where the line was drawn. So she ignored the others, or tried to. She kept to her own life. Her own passions and feelings hidden deep in her heart. But the taunts and insults never stopped. They wore down her spirit bit by bit. Over time, she grew more and more distant, and more quiet. She learned the hard way that opening up and sharing your feelings only got you hurt. It was just the way it was. It was a lesson she carried into her adult years when she was finally able to move to the city.
Her shift had ended. Jessica sighed. She decided, once again, not to report Danielle.
As she carried her tray of money to the back room to count it, Jessica bumped into her boss, Mrs. Stevens.
"Ah! There you are Mittens! I was looking for you!"
Mittens was Mrs. Stevens' nickname for Jessica. She was in her mid fifties and was always gave her employees little nicknames. (Danielle's was firecracker.) "Mittens'" christening came because Jessica always wore small gloves to work. Her boss didn't know that she always wore them when she was out in public.
"So we're going to be pretty busy with our new 2 for 1 sale we've got going on." Mrs. Stevens continued. "So can you come in tomorrow? 8 am? Thanks! You're a peach!" she quickly went to her next task.
Jessica was startled.
"Wait, hang on!" She pursued her for a moment and it took her longer than it should have to regain her boss's attention. "Tomorrow's my only day off this week!"
Mrs. Stevens smiled sadly.
"I know, but we need the extra staff. And I could really use you! Don't worry, I'll pay you overtime, okay?"
"It's not that. I-" Jessica paused.
"Did you have something planned already? Family obligations?" Mrs. Stevens didn't know Jessica's family situation, or lack thereof.
"Well…" Jessica bit her lip and stewed for a moment. Even though she worked full-time, she never got 2 days off in a row, and barely got weekends off either. She was hoping to use her Wednesday off to unwind. Relax at home, catch up on her book. But of course that was no excuse to tell your boss. She couldn't tell her she had a date either, everyone knew she was single and never dated in her life. And of course there were no family obligations. She never told a lie in her life, and she wasn't going to start with Mrs. Stevens.
She tried a different tactic.
"I have some things I need to get done at home." she said, and it was true. The laundry and dishes have been piling up and the apartment wasn't going to dust itself.
Mrs. Stevens pouted.
"Well I guess we could make do short staffed… I mean, it would be hard. New sales, more customers and whatnot. But yeah, it's going to be tough…"
Jessica stirred and almost pouted herself. She never knew how to say "no" to some people. Mrs. Stevens knew that too. Jessica was always the person she went to when she was short staffed. She sighed.
"I can come. The chores can wait."
"Wonderful!" Mrs. Stevens gave her a hug. She was a stocky, tall woman and being hugged by her was like being hugged by a bear. "I knew I could count on you! I'll make it up to you! I promise!"
Funny how often she forgets her promises, Jessica thought as she made her way to the back room. Along the way, Danielle skipped by.
"See you tomorrow!" she called over with over-the-top sweetness. Jessica noticed her glancing at Mrs. Steven's from the corner of her eye.
Bite me.
About an hour later, Jessica found herself back in her apartment. She dropped her keys on the kitchen counter and tossed herself onto her bed.
"Maybe I'm just destined to be miserable." She groaned. Then she sneezed. The women at work put on way too much perfume. It aggravated her allergies. Another reason she needed tomorrow off. She needed to breathe.
She made herself get up to shower and change into her street clothes (although she saw little point now that she had an early start tomorrow). She then collapsed onto her bed again and stared up at the ceiling.
Her apartment was small, too small to fit all of her books. The living room doubled as a kitchen, and her bathroom just had the essentials. Her bedroom was the only place with any real space, which was being overrun with war scenarios. She hadn't touched them in months, though.
Jessica glanced at herself in the mirror across from her bed and sized herself up. Although she was 22 years old, she looked like she was still a teenager. …Maybe. She was about 5'2" and as skinny as a toothpick. You could see her hip bones poking out if you looked close enough. She had pale skin and a roundish face. Recently, Jessica found, her cheeks were beginning to deflate. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
Her saving graces, she figured, were her hair and her eyes. Jessica's hair was earlier described as red, but it was a bit too much of a generalization. In the light lighting, her hair can range from copper to orange to amber and sometimes into a deeper red hue. Sometimes is could look almost golden, but only under the right circumstances. Jessica actually preferred it when it looked red. She wore it long and loose. She hardly ever cut it, letting it cascade down to her hips. It was thick and naturally curvy. She never did anything with her hair other than wash it. Jessica always liked her hair the way it looks without needing to employ and styles or tools. She was never one for fashion anyway.
While most redheads had blue or green eyes, Jessica's was unexpectedly a dark brown colour, like dark chocolate. They complimented her hair perfectly. They made her look good in brown clothing, which was the colour of her favourite sweater.
It was the one she was wearing now. It was long-sleeved and meant to be form-fitting, but it was still just a little too big on her. She was also wearing black pants that were made of stretchy material. Jessica bought these because her thin figure and tiny waist made wearing jeans impossible. (But it can also be accounted towards the fact that she refused to let her belly button show.) Even so, the smallest sized pants would sometimes still need hemming to fit her properly. Jessica had these clothes since she was 14, and it looked like she would be wearing them for a long time to come.
Unfortunatly, her looks made her seem like she really was fourteen. That's why dating wasn't an option. That and the men she met that actually knew her true age seemed to have no interest in her.
When she was younger, Jessica often dream of finding a man that accepted her for who she was, quirks and all. Any maybe get married, perhaps have kids? But she had become too good at hiding. No one really noticed her anymore. And she was too scared to try to come out of her shell. She gotten hurt too many times for that to be possible. So she gave up. It was not meant to be. Jessica looked away from the mirror and sighed.
She did what she would always do when things seemed bleak. She took off her gloves and regarded her birthmark. There, taking up the entire back of her right hand, were a series of purple lines that formed a strange, almost mystical pattern. Jessica could never decide if it looked like a flower or a crystal. But one thing was for certain, it was beautiful.
Her social workers disagreed. She lost count of the number of doctors they took her to to get it removed.
'It's why she never gets adopted" they said. "That is not natural! No one wants that for their child."
Jessica knew that it was true. The looks people would give her… It was why she started wearing gloves. She hated the way people looked at her for it.
Secretly, though, Jessica loved her birthmark. Having it always made her feel like she was special. Like fate had chosen her for something. It got her though her darkest times. It was the only friend she had. Even so, she wished she had someone to talk to. Someone real.
Jessica took a deep breath and shook her head. Laying here wasn't doing her any good. She decided that she would grab a burger at her favourite joint. That would cheer her up. She looked back at her birthmark and said to herself the same thing that she said to herself each day, almost like a prayer. It was what she thought whenever she looked at the mystical design on her hand.
"There must be more than this."
She forced herself out of bed and put on her black running shoes. That was when the pain started. It began in her stomach, almost like a nauseated feeling. Then it rapidly got hotter and more intense. It spread to her entire body in seconds. Jessica cried out and instinctively grabbed at the wall. She had a horrible feeling that she was falling. She got dizzy and tried to hold her head down until it passed. That was when she saw it. A pitch black pit that was consuming the floor. Then, Jessica realized to her horror that she actually was falling. The pit opened into nothingness and she fell in.
She screamed and tried to hold on to something, anything. "This couldn't be happening!" a distant part of her thought. "This doesn't happen in real life. I must be dreaming" And yet the sensation of falling was very real. The image of her apartment reseeded above her. There was blackness everywhere.
No. Jessica thought. I'm going to die! I'm falling and it's going to kill me!
There must be more than this.
"I don't want to die!" Jessica shrieked into the blackness.
All at once, the blackness turned into a brilliant white. And somehow, Jessica felt safe. She wasn't going to die.
That wasn't her fate.
Author's Note: So sorry that this chapter took a while! I wanted to give details to Jessica's personality and life before arriving in the Fire Emblem Universe. The next chapter will start the Awakening story.