Hero
If one wanted to see the sights of the vast world, there were many places to gaze upon the wonders of nature and of man.
The dust bowl that was Plegia, for what it was worth, had little of either.
And with the conclusion of the War of the Fell Dragon, even the bones of an ancient god had disappeared, plummeting into the sea when Grima was slain.
In the First War, Plegia had lost an entire generation of good men and women, slain by the Exalted Tyrant's legions. All for what? Just because rumors that the perfect vessel for Grima being magically conjured were floating about? Was that a good enough reason for thousands of Plegian men and women to die? Was it a good enough reason for a kind and just ruler to suddenly attack his neighbor in a bloody campaign that severed any sort of relation between Ylisse and Plegia? Yes. It most certainly was.
He failed, though. Emmeryn received the crown of her dead father for her 10th birthday. Silently she took the throne, still wet with the blood of Plegia, and savored that instance of dread. And with a vow, she swore that upon her life, Ylisse and her people would know peace once more.
The War of the Mad King banished the idea of Emmeryn's vow. The Gentle Exalt died hoping in the impossibility that an army of orphans would reconsider avenging their families. But too much hatred had festered in too many hearts, and she perished hearing the drums of war ever beating. She had shaken some Plegians, yes, but there was still an army of broken children between Prince Chrom and vengeance.
And when the path to peace was blazed by the Shepherds, each stone laid was mortared with Plegian blood, Plegian tears, and Plegian graves.
When the War of the Fell Dragon began, there stood little of Plegia aside from the Grimleal and those who wanted no part of another war. But the Grimleal were more than enough, numbering in the thousands as they collectively swarmed the Fell Dragon's Table. Their essence was well appreciated by Grima, who sent them scrambling by the score to their deaths.
When the corpse and the vessel of the Fell Dragon plummeted into the sea, Plegia was a wasteland. Empty, barren, and dry.
A quiet place for a single mother to raise a child in isolation.
"Mother, I'm not a child anymore! Can't you see that I can do this on my own?"
"...F-fine. But be quick! Get the vegetables and come back right after, please! Don't run off again and get sidetracked, okay?"
"Ugh, I know how to get vegetables, Mother! As if there's any other place to run off to..."
A door burst open, revealing the confident form of a young girl, age no more than twelve as she took a small jump from her home to the dusty streets. Behind her, a woman looking into her mid-thirties watched intensely alongside a man of similar age. Turning back to her guest, the woman smiled faintly as she shook her head in bitter amusement.
"I... always find myself worrying about Cynthia these days. Every second she spends out of this house, I find myself being consumed by... dread. She's no longer a child, yes... but compared to the Cynthia that came from the future to help us... she's nowhere near knowing the true dangers of this new world. I pray she gets the chance to learn without experiencing it first-hand."
"She's still as cheery as her older self, though."
Sumia chuckled at that, looking outside once more as Cynthia disappeared around the corner.
"I used to read her books about the legends of old. Just like the older Cynthia, our daughter aspires to be a hero some day. Little does she know that the Shepherds are scattered all across Archanea now, huh? Maybe with you back, I'll be able to tell her that we were in some of those stories."
"Heroes... Heh. Why? Why would you fill her head with such... lies?"
"Lies?" Sumia pursed her lips, but sighed slightly after realizing who she was talking to.
"I... wanted to give her hope. Hope that one day, we can leave Plegia and she can be free to pursue her own dreams!"
"Leave then! What's stopping one of the Shepherds from leaving a rickety slum like this? Do you know how hard it was to find you guys when I heard you were out here?"
The former Pegasus Knight shuddered, letting out a sigh as she sat down.
"Ever since you disappeared, Future-Cynthia and I have been on the hunt for you. A few years back, she had to run off because Inigo, Severa, and Owain had disappeared as well, and she didn't quite trust them as much as she did you. Our Cynthia and I were still in Plegia when she vanished, leaving us locked in here by the Plegian government. We've done our best to skate by, waiting for the day that you'd come back. But every now and then, I see a government official walking through these slums, looking for other Plegian turncoats to execute. If we tried anything, we'd be caught and branded traitors of a foreign country, just like so many others. I... I want our Cynthia to know a better life than this, Robin. Can't you help us? Can't you at least help Cynthia?"
"Let's go to Ylisse."
"R-robin... If they capture us, then..."
"That complicates things... But I won't let us stay here!"
"It's a fair living," Sumia admitted, "The community is quiet, there's food on the table, and no one knows who I am."
"I should go... Coming here so suddenly was a mistake. I'm putting you two in danger. Let me formulate a plan to get you two out of here and then-"
"Wait!" Sumia cried holding onto the cloaked arms of the former tactician. "Please! At least until Cynthia comes back... I can't stand being alone out here..."
"Hoi, Cynthia! Where do you think you're going?"
The pig-tailed girl turned, looking at the trio of older boys who were surrounding the huddled form of another man. The sticks in their hands made it obvious what they had been doing.
"I... I'm just... going nowhere?"
One of the boys walked up slowly, encompassing all of Cynthia's view as the other two closed off her escape.
"Nowhere is right," he spoke through a crooked grin, "C'mere and look at this!"
Watching as the brigand kicked the prone victim's arms away from his face, Cynthia nearly screeched at the battered appearance of the man. Blood oozed down his face and purple splotches were scattered all throughout his neck, face, and body. The scene wasn't entirely gruesome, but for a twelve year old, this was evisceration.
"W-what are you..." Cynthia mumbled, "Heroes don't do this..."
"Oh, but this one does, Cynthia! Look at this guy! Thinking he's all high and mighty with his rich clothes and stuff. He's an Ylissean supporter, isn't he! Well, Plegia has power too, old man! And we're gonna make you pay for choosing the side that did this to us!"
"B-but..." Cynthia hesitated upon looking the man in the eye. Seeing his gaze widen, she took a step backwards when he clawed for her leg.
"Please... don't..."
Ignoring the man's plea, two of the boys backed off as the other one of them handed Cynthia his stick.
"Go on then 'hero.' Give this Ylissean trash what he deserves!"
"I don't know... a hero doesn't strike back the defenseless! Even if it's for vengeance and justice-"
"Oh, so she wants to fight honorably? Fine!"
Hoisting the man onto his feet, the boys placed the stick in his weak grip which he used to immediately support himself.
"G-gh..."
Laughing, the boys backed off as Cynthia picked up her weapon, not knowing what to do. Ylisseans were why the Plegians were living so poorly, right? Then why was she feeling this... remorse? She could be a hero too if she struck down this Ylissean! She could help her people live better lives than this-
"I have to go get vegetables! My mother's making soup and I have to go to the market before it closes," Cynthia decided quickly, dropping the stick and bolting off. Before she could though, one of the boys grabbed her by the leg and knocked her down, grabbing the bag of money she had in her pocket.
"H-hey!"
"Let's see you get it without any money, hero."
"B-but-"
"Let's get out of here! The guards are coming!"
Cynthia looked up to see a whole band of similarly-aged boys appear from the street, two of them mounted on horses and pulling a stolen market stall.
"See ya, Cynthia!" one of the boys laughed, taking Cynthia's money with him as he leaped onto the cart just as it sped away. Chasing after it quickly, Cynthia lost sight of the gang and groaned in frustration.
"My money! Ugh, Mother is going to kill me... unless..."
Suddenly, the brilliant idea to take down the gang (by herself, of course; a hero didn't do it any other way) came across Cynthia's mind, and she ran off after the boys, leaving the beaten Ylissean on the road.
I think I'm in over my head.
At least eight of them? How would Princess Lilina handle this? Would she fight her way through? Maybe I should sneak around like Colm the Thief! Or do I need to think for a second and devise a cunning plan like the tactician Mark would?
Hmm... We're all in an alley network, and these houses should provide some cover. Maybe I should-
Cynthia stifled her gasp as one of the gang members fell to the ground right in front of her, unconscious without a doubt. Ducking behind a crate, faint screams grew louder and louder, eventually overpowering her pounding heartbeat.
"...se please PLEASE NO!"
Another of the young men fell to the ground, this one bearing a sword slash to his lower abdomen. Being slammed into the wall amplified his groans, prompting the other gang members to turn their attention towards the alley.
"Go check that out," she heard one of the men whisper, and two more men crossed into her sights in front of her. Seeing the fallen bodies, they ran towards Cynthia prompting her to duck her head back behind the crate once more. Stopping short of the girl's location, instead tending to their friends, the boys didn't seem to note Cynthia.
"Hoi, new guy. Get up!"
"N...ngh... Get off me!"
The man with a bleeding chest rose slowly, pushing the others away as he tightly clutched his shirt to stem the flow of blood.
A slight rustling was heard, causing all four sets of ears to perk up towards the noise.
"Who's out there!?" one of the men shouted, the sudden noise prompting Cynthia to hide once more.
Looking around, the bleeding gang member growled as he let go of his shirt and let his wound flow freely.
"Stop hiding! Fight us!" he challenged, drawing his sword and prompting the other two bandits to do the same.
"..."
A piercing bolt of lightning streamed through the two newcomers, leaving them jolting on the ground, unconscious.
Turning to face the attacker, the bleeding gang member swung his blade widely, but was met with another sword instead of the unarmed opponent he was expecting.
"B-but..."
Parrying his blade easily, a cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows and kicked the man square in the chest wound, leaving him whimpering in pain and watching helplessly as the stranger raised their blade to finish him off.
"Wait-"
With hardly enough force to kill, the cloaked figure struck the man's head with the flat of their blade instead of the edge, knocking the man out with a clean blow. Sheathing their sword and letting out a hoarse pant, the cloaked figure nodded and crept further down the alley, oddly silent for someone so heavily dressed.
When a fire barrage tore down the alley, both Cynthia and the stranger ducked at the same time to avoid meeting a burning fate. The incoming fireballs were strong enough to fill the sky with embers that dispelled most of the darkness, letting Cynthia see the cloaked figure clearly.
"That's... a Plegian coat!" she whispered to herself in excitement.
That's a real Plegian hero! One who fights the tyrannical designs of evil! Does he need my help? Ah, I'll probably just get in his way...
Another of the gang members appeared at the other end of the fire spell, holding an Arcfire tome and preparing to cast another salvo of flames. At the same time, a trio of men appeared from the rooftops, firing arrows at the cloaked hero who dodged them with seemingly infinite grace.
"Whoa..." Cynthia gasped in awe, still hiding behind her crate.
Amidst the barrage of both physical and magical projectiles, the cloaked figure drew a jagged sword wreathed in lightning. Deflecting the fireballs that were imminent to hit, they then fired off a bolt that incinerated the tome, leaving the caster defenseless until another bolt zapped him square between the eyes, blinding him.
With a wind spell this time, the figure shot upwards until they were eye to eye with the three archers. In mid-air, they fired three precise bolts and knocked the archers back down into the alley. Two of them were knocked out after landing, but another one landed just soft enough to maintain conscious awareness of his impending doom.
"Please, no..."
Underneath the shade of their hood, Cynthia could see the figure smiling as he advanced upon the helpless...
Helpless... A hero doesn't attack a helpless-
"You don't belong here!" the figure cried, a masculine voice finally putting some identity to the cloaked figure. The sudden outburst made Cynthia shriek from fright, and the cloaked man looked past the now-crawling-away bandit to the young girl hiding behind the box.
"Oh! There you are."
Huh?
"Ah!" Cynthia screamed, getting up immediately and attempting to run off as the man turned around, facing another group of bandits, this time on horseback.
"You're not getting off that easily, stranger!"
Cynthia watched from a safe distance as the man in front opened up a purple spell book.
Is that... dark magic? I've never seen dark magic! Whoa...
Slightly missing the intended target, the bandit groaned as his spell flew clear over the cloaked man's head...
...And straight towards Cynthia.
Oh no.
"Let's get out of here!" the bandits screamed, leaving the alley just as the spell exploded, sending fragments of dark crystals every which way.
Except Cynthia's body.
Feeling a figure clutch her tightly, the girl opened her eyes to find herself face to face with the stranger from before. Realizing that both of them were on the ground, Cynthia quickly tried to scramble away.
"Those vegetables... better be worth it," he laughed, letting go of Cynthia and groaning and laughing at the same time.
He's not dead?
Looking at the moaning man beneath her, Cynthia recognized him as the visitor that had visited their mother a few hours ago.
"Mr. Robin?!" Cynthia realized, huddling over Robin's body in awe. "That was you?!"
"Quite the entrance," Robin mused, feeling his body for the multitude of wounds he had received. "Your mother is going to kill me for this."
"But why did you find- How did you find me?!"
"I should be asking you why there are a lack of vegetables in your possesion, young lady."
"Hey! I'm askin' the questions first!"'
"..."
"..."
Relenting to the girl's demands, Robin bowed in apology and flashed a grin.
"I was hungry, and Sum- your mother promised to make soup for us. Imagine my awe, seeing my dau... er, seeing you in the middle of a brigand fiasco?"
Cynthia frowned, letting her arms fall. "I... I tried to be brave... like the heroes my Mother told me about."
Like you just were!
"...Heh," Robin laughed, downing a mixture of some liquids and letting the glass vial roll away. "Run back home, kiddo. You're taking a lot of risks being out here..."
With that, the tactician handed a money pouch back into the hands of his unwitting daughter, who took it graciously and gave him a big smile.
"Whoa... thanks!"
His work done, Robin smiled back and started walking out of the alley ignoring the immense pain in order to maintain his badass and rapidly diminishing composure.
"Wait! Mr. Robin..."
"Hmm?" the Plegian wondered, turning his head slightly and putting his hood back up to shield his grimace.
"You were one of the Shepherds too, weren't you... You were one of the heroes of the Fell Dragon War!"
"Promise me Robin... Promise me you won't leave Cynthia and I?"
"I wish I could but... that means I have to apologize to the generations after us for all the death we could have stopped..."
"Please, Robin... Don't sacrifice yourself. Humanity has always risen to the challenge. Each generation has heroes of their own. Don't demote yourself to a martyr..."
"...I can't guarantee that."
"Not anymore..." Robin spoke after a long pause, letting his smile fade. He walked away, not able to hear his daughter's complaints.
Or admiration.
"I think you are."
"Where have you been Cynthia? I've been worried sick!"
"Oh, Mother," Cynthia exclaimed as she went in, "You won't believe what happened! The gang took my money and-"
"What?!"
"...but then Mr. Robin came and took out all the-"
"Took. Out?" Sumia glared at the corner of the house instantly, leaving a just-revealed Robin helpless under the scrutiny of his wife and still-unwitting daughter.
"Oh that? That was nothing."
"Let me see your cloak, Mister."
"He saved me from the-"
"Shh," Robin interrupted, smiling nervously as his wife closed in for the kill.
"Just how many arrows did they shoot at you?!" Sumia cried, looking at all the perforations along Robin's backside. "How are you not dead?"
"They were toy arrows," Robin bowed with grandiose, "Though they did have some nasty dark magic. We should really get out of this dump and move back to Ylisse."
"What?" Cynthia wondered, looking between Robin and Sumia strangely. "Why would we go-"
"You like heroes, don'tcha kid?" Robin asked to a confused Cynthia. "You asked if I was a Shepherd... well, I think your mother and I know a few Shepherds you'd like to meet."
