Fortior Fati
Chapter One: What's old…
"This is it," declared the blue haired Ylissean royal, "our final battle!" She raised Falchion and prepared to charge, "Are you ready to change our fates, Morgan?"
"Ready!" she declared, almost involuntarily. The pair hurried forward into the shadowy, inky blackness that obscured the path before them. Finally, past the halls of tattered tapestry and ruined walls, their target was coming into view. There he stood, the incarnation of the Fell Dragon, Grima, a sickening violet aura pouring out from his form. Morgan's eyes locked with the creature and, all at once, her mind froze. It couldn't be. She was locked in place, finding herself completely paralyzed by the form that stood before her.
"Morgan! What are you doing? Make ready!" Lucina shouted as she continued her advance. Morgan turned to the sound of her voice and saw a colossal purplish spike emerge and shatter the ground beneath her. Lucina wailed in agony as the magically charged appendage tore right into her chest. Still, Morgan could not bring herself to move. She stood in silence as her friend fell to the floor, clutching at her missing side and struggling desperately, pitifully to crawl forward at the monster. Morgan felt a shock to her head, followed by the collapsing of her weight to the ground.
Darkness. Clouded. Everything black. No vision, sight, hearing. The feeling of pure nothingness. Suddenly, a voice: "But, dearest cousin, there must be some aid we might furnish! Owain Dark does not pass by a young woman in distress!"
Then, a reply; a different tone, feminine, "And what, exactly, do you propose we do, Owain?"
Morgan's eyes finally parted themselves. She saw above her a shadowy sky, but beneath a pleasant field. Over her stood a young man with curiously dark purple hair and a cocky disposition, his eyes fixated on her. To his side was a rather tall young woman, sapphire-blue hair flowing over her shoulders, dressed in what seemed to be unreasonably fancy clothing, but plated with armor as well. The pair widened their eyes as Morgan's opened.
"I see you're awake now," the woman noted with the tiniest smile on her face.
"Well, hello there," added the boy, his tone obviously shifting to something more sultry.
"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," chuckled the young woman. The boy complimented her with a quick laugh. "Give me your hand," she instructed, extending her own hand out to the collapsed form of the young girl.
Taking it, Morgan was pulled up close to the young woman. Morgan nodded to her gratefully, "Thank you, Lucina."
"So, you know who I am, then," Lucina's smile had faded.
"Actually," Morgan's eyes shifted to each side, "No, I really don't. All I could remember was your name, and that only upon seeing you."
"Curious," she remarked simply, evaluating the girl who stood opposite her, "What is your name, then?"
Morgan scratched the back of her neck delicately, embarrassed to admit that she had no idea.
"You don't know your own name?" Lucina took up an inquisitive stance.
"Hold, cousin! The omniscient Owain Dark has heard tell of the symptoms present in our young acquaintance hither!" the purple-haired boy cried out.
"You mean you think you know what's wrong with her?" Lucina clarified.
"Indeed," he folded his hands together, "Yonder fine lady is stricken with…" He paused a moment, then threw his arms out in either direction, "AMNESIA!"
"I think it's called 'lying,'" scoffed another woman behind the pair who Morgan had not noticed at first, "Or perhaps 'stupidity.' Do you honestly expect us to believe you know milady's name, but not your own?" Morgan looked at the woman carefully. She seemed quite large, but Morgan quickly realized that she was only about Lucina's size, if not smaller, and was completely covered in thick armor. She had curiously faded emerald hair, and wore a stern glare, looking right back into Morgan.
"I'm sorry. I can provide no other explanation," resigned Morgan.
"Now, now. I thank you for your efforts, Kjelle, but we cannot turn up our noses at a potential ally," Lucina gave Morgan a piteous smile.
"'Ally?' Honestly, Lucina, we don't stand a chance if you plan to recruit every hapless innocent you find on the streets. There is no way to validate this young lady's story. No way to tell if she's a spy, or anything else of the sort. I would greatly recommend moving on," commanded the stern woman.
"Duly noted, Kjelle, but I'm not in the business of making enemies among those who still live. Surely, you can understand," Lucina withdrew her own commanding tone.
"I am duty-bound to serve milady," Kjelle withdrew, not the least bit pleased.
Lucina turned to Morgan again, "You'll pardon dear Lady Kjelle the Wary."
"A title I wear with pride," scoffed the woman, "Gods forbid even one of us attempts to keep an appropriate level of caution."
"I can understand your concerns, milady. I would see to no less myself," admitted Morgan, "All I can do is to promise you that I am speaking the truth."
"And we've scarce little reason to doubt her, don't we, Kjelle?" Lucina impressed.
"By your word, milady," Kjelle sighed.
"Gods have mercy, Lucina, look!" came a cry from Owain. The party turned their heads in the direction he pointed and saw smoke rising out of a small tan cobblestone village just to the north.
"The entire town is on fire!" exclaimed Lucina, "It must be the Risen! Kjelle, Owain, we need to go, now!"
"What about her, milady?" asked Kjelle, gesturing toward Morgan.
"Unless she's on fire too, she can wait," Lucina managed, already tearing away from the group. Kjelle followed quickly after her and Owain brought up the rear, taking a final moment to look into the girl's eyes before hurrying away.
Lucina leapt forward and plunged Falchion into a nearby Risen warrior, who collapsed and dissipated into sickly purple smoke immediately. She caught another as it approached her, axe raised, and held Falchion to where the axe's blade met its hilt, holding it in place, then kicked the Risen to the ground and cut across its throat. She looked to each side, seeing Kjelle barely occupied, jabbing her lance through the Risen as if they were paper, and Owain managing as well, dashing each to his side with a typical declaration of a move. In her concentration on the others, however, Lucina lost focus and did not notice the archer drawing his bow squarely at her head… until he was cast aside in an instant by a flash of golden light. The owner at the end of the trail of light was none other than Morgan, who stood, a little surprised that she had succeeded, and then rushed toward Lucina.
"You can use magic?" Lucina asked, preparing to swipe at another warrior.
"Apparently," Morgan remarked simply, leafing through the tome in her arms again.
"Right," Lucina's face tensed, "maybe I'll just keep a little further out of the way."
"Oh, come on," pouted Morgan, "I know how to control it. Let's see… like this…!" she commanded, striking away another archer with a quick burst.
"Gods, the Risen are going to overwhelm them here!" Lucina spat, discouraged.
"Not if we keep this up," chuckled Owain, tossing another of the monsters from his blade.
"Not the time, Owain," her voice soured even further.
"I think he may be right," Morgan called, knocking down yet another of the purplish creatures, "if we can seal off the gate to the town while stemming the tide of these things, we can put out the fire, at least."
"It's certainly worth a try," Lucina nodded, preparing to rush the gate.
"Don't-!" Morgan cried, "All the soldiers over there have swords. Send the woman with the lance, Kjelle. She has an inherent advantage!"
"A-all right," Lucina nodded, less than assured, "Kjelle, hit the gates! Seal them up, don't stop until you do it!"
"Yes, milady!" she responded over the unsettling shrieks of the Risen. Kjelle charged ahead and knocked her foes' blades to the wayside as she effortlessly bowled through them on the way to the gate, wayward strikes glancing off of her like butter knives on stone. Before long, she had reached the gate and began to turn the mechanism that would lower it. Morgan appeared before her, tome at the ready. Kjelle hesitated a moment, fearful of the woman who stood before her as she saw the jolting magic emerge from the tome.
"I've got you covered!" she called as the bolt struck a foe to Kjelle's left.
"My gratitude," she nodded, resuming her position and operating the gate. As the base of the gate hit the ground and Kjelle released her grip, a cheer emerged from Lucina, Owain, and Morgan.
"You!" called Morgan, "Uh, Owain! You're quick on your feet; grab a couple of buckets and start helping the townsfolk put out these fires!"
"By your command, fair maiden!" Owain agreed, and began doing just that. He dashed along the streets as his comrades continued to fight and washed out the fires on the street level quickly, leaving only some embers behind as more and more of the villagers came to his aid. Eventually, they began to bring forth ladders and create makeshift scaffolds, whatever time afforded, to reach the flames at the roofs.
Before long, the battle was over and the fire quelled. The village was not without damage from the attack, but certainly it fared better than any potential outcome had the party not intervened. The group met outside the town, to the copious thanks of those who lived within.
"You performed well today. You've earned my thanks and my trust, Morgan," the smile had returned to Lucina's face.
The scowl had not left Kjelle's, however, "You can't be serious! We still know nothing about her!"
"We know she risked her life to save a small Ylissean village, without any prompting or promise of reward. I'm trying to be more like my father, Kjelle, and I know this is the sort of thing he would do. Not to mention, she's handy with a blade, tomes, and she's a sharp wit. The girl deserves a chance, at least," Lucina demonstrated, not prepared to hear anything further.
"Verily, milady, is there anything which thy incredibly powerful and most beautiful form cannot do?" Owain laughed cheerfully.
"Thank you, Lady Lucina," Morgan bowed, "I just recalled that my name is Morgan, if it is of any consequence to you."
"Indeed, it is. Will you accompany my friends and I back to Ylisstol, Lady Morgan?" Lucina continued.
"I suppose, given I've nowhere else to go. Where is Ylisstol, exactly?" Morgan adjusted her cloak.
Kjelle scoffed derisively again, "Someone pay this actor, she plays quite the fool."
"Kjelle!" Lucina sighed, exasperated, "Honestly! Ylisstol is the capital of the country in which you now reside, the Halidom of Ylisse. It would come as no surprise that you don't recognize international borders now, given the state of the world." She placed a hand over her own chest and sighed resignedly.
"I suppose that was my next question," Morgan settled, "What were those monstrous things? Are they commonplace in such lands?"
"They are called Risen," Lucina set forth a serious gaze into Morgan's eyes, "and they were far from commonplace until a few years after my birth. They are horrid eldritch monsters made from the bodies and souls of the dead and the damned, reanimated into slaves to serve the bidding of the Fell Dragon, Grima." A single tear made its way down Lucina's snow-white cheek as she continued, "Their only business in the world is to bring an end to all life."
"Gods, but that's horrible!" Morgan was shocked.
"But we are here to stop them and save the world!" Owain declared, posing with one foot on a stump, triumphantly, "We are Chrom's New Shep—"
"Don't say it, Owain!" Lucina cried to her cousin. He dropped from his pose and regarded her solemnly. "The truth of the matter, Morgan," she continued, almost inaudibly, "is that we are losing hope. All our efforts seem utterly wasted. No matter what we achieve, what we reclaim, within days it is lost again."
"That is… troubling indeed," Morgan walked toward the sapphire-haired girl and placed a hand on her shoulder, "But, if you're to be a leader, you must remain strong. I will stand at your side to help you best these creatures as much as I'm able. My father told me never to lose hope, for as long as hope is present, nothing is lost!" She accentuated her adage with a bright, innocent smile.
Lucina could not help but to share in it, "Thank you, Morgan. Your words give me strength. Come, we'll go to Ylisstol and gather the others. I think you'll like them."
The group began setting off northward, over the still pleasantly green hills beneath the murky skies above. Owain turned to Morgan as they walked, each behind Lucina and Kjelle, "I do not believe we were formally introduced, milady. I am Owain Dark, cousin of Lady Lucina and the Scion of Legend, one of the last bearers of House Ylisse's bloodline!"
"You say that like it's a good thing," Morgan glared at the man curiously, "And really, 'the Scion of Legend?' You know we aren't children, right?"
"W-well… I just thought," Owain sputtered.
"I'm happy to have your assistance, Owain, but please try to handle all this with a bit more tact," she sighed. She giggled slightly, "Even if it is kinda funny."
"R-right. Sorry," he breathed, "I thought you did an excellent job today as well." He looked back to her with a sheepish smile.
"Thank you, Owain. At any rate, we should focus on getting to Ylisstol," she turned her head forward.
"Of course," he scowled, also turning his head to face Kjelle's back.