In the long nineteen years after the battle of the Fell Dragon, Cynthia still couldn't shake in her heart the longing that she felt to meet her sister again.
With the gentle 'clop-clop' of her pegasus' hooves walking on the ground, she shook those thoughts away from her head and reminded herself of where she was. She was the official Ylissean ambassador on a trip to Cron'sin and was just taking a simple ride in the countryside to clear her mind.
The latest negotiations had gone smoothly enough, though there were some concerns back home over the state of the northern part of the territory, which seemed to make action difficult to take. Rumor had it that some officials had even died from poisons masked as illnesses, making things a bit more complicated.
Without much concern over the surrounding area, she continued to ride, her escorts now a way behind her. If it was fate or not, but that changed what happened to her that day.
Eventually reaching the limit of how far she was going to ride, Cynthia looked at the imposing forest in front of her, deer running between the trees visible in the distance. The strange tranquility of such places still affected her, so different from the world that she had grown up in.
That peace was quickly broken though when throwing knives started to fly her way. Reacting to the flying blades, the ceremonial lance that she kept with her suddenly rose up, knocking all of them away from her and her mount. It was heavier than a lance she wielded back in combat, but for all intents and purposes, it did its job.
"Who goes there, on the border of this forest," a rough voice called out, seemingly from every tree in front of her.
"What matters to you, who throw weapons at riders that haven't entered," Cynthia called back, getting off her pegasus.
"Perhaps that would be true, but how many of those would've hit you?" the voice asked back, a knife suddenly landing right at Cynthia's feet.
"Four of them," she responded with confidence, grabbing the knife.
"Wait, four?" a separate voice called out, now more identifiable from an individual tree.
"If you have a question, come down and see," Cynthia called back, twirling her lance and taking a defensive position.
"You idiot, how many times has mom and dad told you to not throw at people with the intent to hit them," the second voice called out, startling the birds out the tree.
"Oh, come on, she has the marking of someone who would know how to use the weapon she's carrying," the first voice called back, seemingly annoyed at the other voice lecturing for something so obvious, also giving away position with a shaking branch.
Taking advantage of the bickering in front of her, Cynthia picked up another knife, aimed, and threw both knives, slicing through the branches.
The sounds of a body hitting the ground not too far from her made her pick up her lance and walk over, her eyes determined to see her assailant.
The one who had fallen was face down, as if to hide, while hidden in a hood and cape, not showing too much. The body was also relatively small, so perhaps a young adult.
Using her lance to turn the body over, Cynthia had a double take at what caught her eye.
Laying down in front of her, was a boy of about ten years, with a matching head of blue hair that she had.
Watching the boy in disbelief, Cynthia just stood there, as if he shouldn't have existed.
In her shock of the boy, Cynthia failed to see the owner of the second voice sneak up on her, and knocked her aside. Her assailant's hood slipped and revealing matching blue hair, longer than the boys, and a small glimpse of girls face as well, before picking up the boy and disappearing into the woods.
Staring off into the woods, Cynthia sat there, attempting to think about what she just saw.
Blue hair the same shade as herself. The same shade as her father's hair, Morgan's hair, Young Lucina's hair.
"Are you still out there?" she asked, before her escorts caught up with her, forcing her to go back.
The night passed on, and more meetings and negotiations quickly passed as well, before Cynthia could go out to the woods again.
Her official duty as ambassador was over but requested an extended stay for personal reasons.
Not even waiting for a response from Cron'sin officials, she took a bag of provisions that she requested to be made once she returned from her ride, taking off to the woods on her own.
Despite spending nearly a month in the forest, she found nothing, no sign of the two blue haired people that attacked her, and the small hope that her sister was still out there had died.
Leaving the forest for the last time, Cynthia looked around again, hoping that something would be kind enough to give her a sign of where her sister was.
Glancing around one more time, she spotted something that she hoped would give her the opportunity she was looking for. Spotting someone in the trees, she recognized it as the older girl from her encounter in the woods.
Deciding to follow her back, Cynthia took chase, keeping up with the girl from the ground, hiding behind trees when she stopped.
After about ten minutes of such movements, the girl dropped from the tree, and as she was falling, threw three knives at Cynthia, which she expertly dodged, before falling flat on her face.
"Aw, and after all the time that I spent trying not to do that," she mumbled, picking herself up and chasing after the girl who ran off into the distance.
Taking chase, Cynthia realized the tactics that the girl made to evade her and applauded her; having an easily trackable path that the enemy can see, a motion to both render the chasing party immobile and to change course, as well as taking a less followable trail on the ground.
Oh, if it weren't for the imprints of iron soles that kept her trail hot, that would've been a near perfect escape plan.
As the trees started to thin, Cynthia was starting to feel better about where she was going, entering a clearing in the middle of the forest, before falling into a pitfall hidden in the grass.
Rubbing her head, Cynthia glanced up to see the girl with a bow in her arms; string taut and arrowhead flaming.
"You're pretty good to make it this far, but you got too far ahead of yourself. You saw the marks made by my boots and wrote it off as an amateur's work, not considering that I could lead you to a trap," she said, as both brown and blue eyes stared down from above, and a particular mark on her right cheek.
Chuckling a bit, Cynthia put her arms up, wobbling to stand up and get a bit higher.
"Yeah, you got me there, kid. I suppose your father taught you well," Cynthia mumbled, causing a visible but hidden look of shock in the girl.
"I suppose your mother taught you how to use that bow as well, didn't she? Even though she was always so good, she always used her sword," Cynthia continued, this time breaking the look on the girl's face.
Easing the bowstring, the flames on the arrow went out, confirming Cynthia's suspicion that it was magical in nature, the girl only looked down, wondering who this person was.
"Who are you?" she asked, as if unsure of what the answer would mean to her.
"Simple, sweetheart; I'm your aunt."