"Chrom, we have to do something!"

Robin's head hurt. Where was he? What was he doing there? He tried to pry his eyes open, only to be met with blinding light, to which he quickly closed them again. Ugh.

"Hey, there..."

Robin opened his eyes again, and forced them to stay open. The blinding light subsided, replaced by a girl. She grinned at him, and he shut his eyes again. Where was he? What was going on? Why...

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground you know."

A male voice this time. Robin opened his eyes, to be met with a gloved hand extending toward him. He reached for it, unsure of what to do. The man in front of him hoisted him up, pulling Robin from the ground. Robin caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his own hand before he stood up. His head pounded along with his heartbeat, and he forced himself to calm down.

"You alright?" said the man in front of him. His face was scrunched up in concern. Robin couldn't help but wonder why.

"Yes. I'm fine, Chrom," Robin said, his throat sore and dry. How long had he been laying there?

"Ah, so you know who I am?" the blue haired man, Chrom, looked relieved.

"I..." Robin racked his brain, but couldn't remember, "I don't think so..."

Robin's head was still pounding. It was taking every ounce of his strength not to pass out right there. Why couldn't he remember? His memories were just within his reach...

"Hm..." Chrom hummed, "So what's your name? What brings you here?"

"I don't... Where am I?" Robin trailed off, feeling sweat trail down his hot weather paired with his heavy cloak didn't help his headache at all.

"This is called amnesia!" the girl who had woken him up exclaimed. Robin glanced at her. Her blonde hair was tied into pigtails, which Robin thought looked rather childish on a grown woman. She was also acting quite childish.

"It's called a load of pegasus dung," A man's voice chimed in. "And we're supposed to believe you remember milord's name and not your own?"

Robin hadn't even noticed him, which was surprising considering the man's appearance. He was tall and intimidating, and yet Robin could see a bit of a formal shirt underneath his armor. Even with that, he still stood around a head taller than Robin. He made a note not to get on that guy's bad side.

"It's... the truth," Robin said quietly, not entirely believing it himself.

"Well," Chrom huffed, "We can't just leave him here!"

"Still, sire..." The tall man started, but Robin began to ignore them, unable to hear them over the pounding of his headache. Soon enough, they motioned for Robin to follow them.

After learning more of Chrom and his companions (Frederick and Lissa, he remembered) a wave of images were brought back to him full force. Being raised by his mother, questioning the mark on his hand, being cautioned to avoid a tall, dark man who would call him his son, living a happy life until one day it was all taken from him. The grimleal killing his mother. Fleeing for his life once they saw the mark on his hand, once they knew who he was. Wandering Yllise afterwards, thirsty for revenge but unsure of where to go or who to exact revenge on. Seeing a portrait of the very man his mom cautioned him against, and immediately knowing who to go after. Meeting himself, and himself trying to merge with him, but it didn't work. Memories of the future.

Robin slowed down, pressing a hand to his head. His headache was gone, replaced with the question of what to do next. A plan started forming in his head as he stopped walking to take in a deep breath.

"Robin," he said, startling everyone in the group, "My name is Robin."

Chrom looked shocked, then smiled, (and it was like the clouds parting after a rain, Robin noted), "Well, I guess that's one mystery solved."

"Milord!" Frederick shouted, stopping them in their tracks. In front of them, the town was ablaze, overrun with what looked to be common bandits.

"Gods!" Chrom exclaimed, readying his sword - the falchion, Robin reminded himself - and rushing toward the town. Robin and the others followed suit, although he didn't know if Frederick would trust him enough to allow him onto the battlefield.

After quickly relearning how to use his sword and magic, finding a preference for magic, he and the others began fighting (much to Frederick's discomfort and Chrom's amazement). Robin quickly analyzed the battle field and gave out commands, which, to Robin's surprise, the others listened to. Robin felt himself becoming more comfortable by the second, remembering studying war tactics with his mother. They were able to easily defeat the enemy.

"Wow, Robin!" Lissa exclaimed excitedly, giggling a bit, "Magic, swordplay, and tactics!"

"Certainly no helpless victim," Chrom said, although Robin could hear some satisfaction in his voice. Good. The prince was interested in him.

"Certainly not," Frederick interrupted, looking at Robin sharply, "Maybe even enough to tell us why you're here?"

Robin pondered it for a moment. Would he tell them? If he told them the truth, they would never let him join the shepherds. His need for revenge was too strong - it was what had kept him going until this day. He needed to join them if he was going to get anywhere.

"I know what you might think," Robin started, "But I honestly don't know."

"I say we let him join the shepherds," said Chrom, causing Frederick to turn sharply toward him, "He's the kind of person we need."

"Milord-" Frederick began, but was soon cut off.

"Robin, what do you say?" Chrom looked at Robin hopefully, "Will you join the shepherds?"

"How can I refuse when you ask like that?" Robin said jokingly, but he was rejoicing inside. Finally, he had joined the shepherds. He had his chance to exact his revenge, end his father for good.

Robin knew he would feel bad for deceiving them, later. But now he had to fake his amnesia. He had to gain their trust. He had to kill his father.