Hi there. This is a prequel to my last FE story, I Saw You, and the story that kicks off my Awakening universe.
Everyone has their own idea on how gameplay would transfer into real life, and while normal fighting is the easiest equivalent, I'm inclined to take an approach that was presented in a certain HPXDnD crossover.
Anyway, enjoy! Please help me improve by telling me what I can do differently.
~Inspired Gracidea
Tactician
In the land of Ylisse, every man and woman knew how battles worked. It was an essential piece of knowledge, something that the highest lord and the lowest servant knew. It was something you needed to know. When in war, your survival depended on it. Although Ylisee and Plegia were no longer at war, bandits, brigades, and rogue units still were a problem. Battles still occurred. Fights still broke out.
It was common knowledge that when a battle began, the area would break down into five-by-five-by-five cubes. How you had ten seconds to consider your action, and that after your turn, you could only dodge and counteract until it was your turn again. There was certain areas that were impossible to cross quickly, like tangleweed or forests, unless your movement speed was great enough to ignore those effects. Weapons that were probable to appear in battle, the "weapons triangle", and classes. Everyone knew about classes.
Your class made you who you were, gave you access to knowledge, skills, and talents that other classes didn't have. There were classes better suited to everyday life, and there were classes where fighting was all you could do. Classes that helped people generally, and classes that had unpleasant rumors attached to them. You could change your class through hard work, recruitment, a change of fate, or a calling, but for the most part, your class was your class. No one knew your class except for you, although what you carried usually allowed for a decent guess. The class you had was something to be proud of, and if you didn't like it, there was little you could do but pray to change your life.
As prince, Chrom was forced to endure hours of lessons in politics (which he didn't care for), etiquette (which often went right over his head), literature (only occasionally interesting), and sciences (leave those to the mages). Time he had been forced to sit in the castle was time that he would rather spend training or napping. In short, lessons were boring, and the time could be better spent elsewhere.
Except for lessons on combat, which included information about weapons and forging, historical battles fought and the logistics behind them (those could be slightly dry, though), movement and speed, geography, and of course, classes.
Villagers were the best at farming and wielding scythes. Merchants were jacks of many trades, but masters of none. Clerics healed, having intrinsic knowledge of how the body worked. Members of the thief class, while having a never-ending sea of myths and distrust attached to them, made the best scouts, spies, and could be trusted to act quietly.
And then there was the Tactician class. They were a rarity, a myth, legends, rumored to be able to see the battleground, be aware of all unit's locations and statistics, and determine the best course of action. While a unit's class was private knowledge, the Tactician could see everything, including their class. They were the only class to be able to do so. Their versatility and abilities were so great that wars could be shifted by a single Tactician.
As a Lord, Chrom had knowledge of his forces' statistics and general locations on the battleground, but there were limitations. He couldn't tell if they were walking into a trap, or an action would put them in range of a dangerous attack. Compared to the Tactician's seemingly omniscient knowledge, his was severely lacking.
"Tacticians are rare," his teacher said, "one might show up every two hundred years. They usually show up in times of calamity, when a guiding light is needed." His teacher scratcher her chin. "There were rumors Plegia had a Tactician when your father waged war against them. That's how they survived until the exalted, your sister, stopped the war." But Chrom wasn't interested in hearing about just Plegian Tacticians.
"What are some other Tacticians?" His teacher hummed, fingering one of the tomes on history thoughtfully.
"When the First Exalt fought Grima, the fell dragon," Chrom shivered, feeling like a cold nip had passed through the room, "alongside his Pegasus-Queen, it's said that he had a Tactician alongside him. Although the exploits of the trio were legendary, the knowledge of the First Exalt's Tactician is blurred, lost to time even more than the Pegasus-Queen and the First Exalt himself. Most agree that after the fell dragon was cast into sleep, he disappeared into the shadows."
"I see."
"The Hero-King Marth also," his teacher had the tome open and was looking down at the page, "was said to have a Tactician, who aided him in his quest to save his sister, though so little is known about that time, it isn't certain."
Tacticians fascinated Chrom. When he was dozing, he would meet a mysterious tactician and they would form a band of warriors called the Shepherds, protecting Ylisse from bandits and all sorts of dangers. The tactician would be a friend, an ally, someone Chrom could be himself with. Not a prince, just Chrom. They would sneak out to train together, and go on adventures together.
Years passed, and some dreams changed, while others became reality. With encouragement from his sister, Chrom began gathering people of different classes and walks of life into a group. People he trusted, who had potential, who had the same desire to protect their land. The Shepherds, who tended Ylisse and watched it's sheep.
Frederick was the first to join. As his retainer, and one of the greatest Knights in the land, it was only a matter of time before he was promoted to a Great Knight. He served as Chrom's right-hand man, managing the Shepherds as their numbers slowly grew.
Lissa was an unsurprising addition. Having been classed as a Cleric early on in life, she always hated being cooped up in the castle. Her class was also unsurprising: both Emmeryn and their mother had started as Clerics, and she was always been eager to help. Even more so with her stubborn attitude, her enthusiasm helped keep the Shepherds together.
Vaike was a happy accident. Chrom had run into him, calling him a 'Barbarian.' After clarifying that he was a Fighter and one day would be the "Damn Best Warrior Ever," he declared Chrom his rival and joined the Shepherds that day.
Miriel and Ricken came together. Ricken, he knew, was the son of a once-powerful Mage-family that had fallen into misfortune, but he wasn't certain of Miriel. A perfectionist, and another Mage, she spoke little of her past, preferring to study the past and whatever she could get her hands on. Ricken, however, went straight into training and was not allowed onto the field. Too young, Frederick had decided, and not ready. Chrom agreed. The boy was barely older than Lissa, and she only went into the field when Frederick or himself were present.
Clerics, and other healing classes for that manner, walked with targets on their backs. In battle, if you took out the healer, the force was crippled. On the streets, if someone thought you might be worth a decent price, you might be scooped up. This was especially true for the Princess of Ylisse.
Sully was another accident. Her application to the palace guard had gotten mixed up with applications for the Shepherds, and when Frederick had deemed her acceptable for joining the Shepherds, the deal was sealed. Stewing about the mix-up, it took her a while to open up to the other Shepherds. When she did, she shared a story with them about her family. They were descended from a line of Ylissean Knights, and she had been fully excepted to join the cavalry. Instead, she rebelled and attempted to join the palace guard. When news reached her family of her acceptance into the Shepherds, they had roared about it for ages, ribbing her for "taking care of sheep instead of horses."
Chrom couldn't remember when Kellam showed up. Neither could Frederick, for that matter, which said something. It was like the Knight had slipped under their gazes without anyone noticing, securing a place with the Shepherds.
Stahl came the most undramatically of them all. The kindhearted Cavalier had applied to the Shepherds after meeting Kellam, easily slipping into the ranks with his good nature and quickly becoming everyone's favorite with his good cooking.
Sumia was the most recent addition to the Shepherds. She had applied to the Pegasus Knights, hoping for an opportunity to escape from a class that promised spilt blood. When that hadn't worked out, Chrom had done his best to help her find a place amongst the Shepherds. She joined Ricken in training, though much more hesitantly than the younger male.
They were a small group, but a force to be reckoned with.
Sometimes, Chrom wondered about how classes worked, and why you were born as one class over another. True, there were people who seemed destined to be a certain class, like Frederick being a Knight, but then there were people who didn't seem to fit. Like Kellam, who seemed to be a better Ninja than a Knight, and Sumia, the shy Knight who seemed more fitting as a Cleric with her caring personality. But your class was your class, and you were in a certain class for a reason.
"We've received a report of brigands near the Farfort and Southtown." Chrom looking around the dining hall at his Shepherds. "Frederick, Lissa, and I will be going to investigate. We'll be gone for a week at most."
"You sure that you three will be enough?" Sully asked, leaning on her spear.
"The report isn't solid, so it will be a scouting mission only. We'll engage only if they appear."
That had been five days ago; two days of traveling, the other three days scouting the area and talking to locals. The brigands had mostly been spotted around the boarder pass, though suspicious individuals had been spotted further and further inside the halidom. They would need to carry this report back to Emmeryn, and as quickly as possible. With trouble on the north and south borders, something would need to be done.
The trio was approaching Southtown, cutting through the forest to save time instead of using the road. Frederick was leading his horse instead of riding her. The mare was new to the stables, and Frederick was still training her to different situations. Chrom walked alongside Frederick, while Lissa trailed behind them. The trip had been quiet thus far, almost too quiet. Chrom had one hand near his blades, while Frederick kept a watchful eye out.
"Hold on, Frederick, Chrom! Geez!" Both males turned. Lissa had her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. "Would it kill you to take a break?"
"We need to keep moving, Lissa. The longer we wait, the more chance of raids against our land."
"I know, I know." She moaned, pushing herself up and joining them as they passed the treeline and entered a grassy clearing. "It's just, how do you two have so much stamina?!" The Cleric bemoaned, pushing her way through the weeds that were easily as high as her waist. "We've been walking for days, and my feet feel like they're going to fall off."
"I think your mouth is going to fall off before your feet break off." Chrom grinned, keeping pace alongside her.
"That's rich, coming from the Lord who breaks all the Shepherd's training equipment." But before Chrom could offer a response, his retainer had come to a halt.
"Milord," Frederick had his lance in hand, "there is something in the weeds near that rock." Both Chrom and Lissa halted, Lissa gripping her staff and Chrom placing a hand on Falchion.
"Something? Can you tell what it is?"
"I cannot, milord. I only noticed it because the grass in that area is flatter than the other areas, and it looks like something has passed through here recently." Chrom paused, testing the air. The land stayed as it was, not shifting into a battleground, so there was no immediate danger, but it could also mean an ambush, which usually lead to a surprise round.
"Stay close." He drew his blade and moved forward, Lissa directly behind him and Frederick beside him. Ambushes were not uncommon, but no one knew of their coming, so if it was an ambush, it was not intended for Ylisse royalty. But with every step they took, the field remained the same, unchanging as Chrom spotted the patch of land that had caught Frederick's attention. They reached the edge of the grass, and Chrom braced himself for a possible attack, but instead found.
"A girl?" Chrom lowered from Falchion and stepped forward.
"Please be vigilant, milord. It could be a trap, and perhaps she is bait."
"But what if she's hurt, Frederick?" Lissa dashed forward, Chrom behind her. Sighing, Frederick followed, lance at the ready.
It was indeed a human girl, no, woman, curled up on the ground, black and purple robes sprawled around her. While Lissa waved her staff over her, Chrom immediately noticed the sword sticking out from under her. While she was lacking the armor most Myrmidon had, he could not immediately rule out that class. But she didn't seem to fit as a Thief or Mercenary either. There was something about her, with her odd, foreign-looking dark clothes, that fit into no classes Chrom knew of.
"Her health is full, and there are no unnatural conditions." Lissa declared, resting her staff in her lap. Frederick shifted nervously, sliding off his horse. "I think she's just sleeping."
"But why is she sleeping out here with brigands around? There is something odd about this." He had sheathed Falchion, running a hand through his hair.
"Milord, those are Plegian robes." Frederick noted. "Perhaps she is connected to the bandits we came here to investigate."
"Perhaps, but perhaps not. We can make assumptions, but we should question her first."
"Hey!" Lissa shook the woman. "Hey, are you awake?" There was no response. "Chrom, we have to do something."
"What do you propose we do?" He wasn't a healer. If Lissa didn't know what to do, then he certainly didn't.
"I don't know...something!" That wasn't very optimistic, and Chrom hated to admit so, but thankfully a soft moan saved him from answering. The woman was stirring, forehead scrunched up as her eyes opened.
"I see you're awake now." Her eyes remained squinting, as if she were trying to adjust to the sunlight. One hand rose, rubbing her face.
"Hey there." She blinked blearily at Lissa, traces of sleep still in her eyes. Plegian, maybe, but she was still a human being.
"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know." Her eyes swiveled to him. "Give me your hand." For a long moment, she stared up, unsure of him. Slowly, uncertainly, she offered her hand, allowing him to pull her up.
Blue eyes. That was the first thing that caught his attention. Blue eyes, deep like water, cool like ice, with flecks of steel grey in them. Not as bright as his, but intelligent. The second thing he noticed was her height. Half-a-head shorter than he was, but her head was tilted upward to stare at him. The third thing he noticed was the hand she had offered him. The back was marked with a V-shaped symbol, six eyes branching off to stare in every direction. This last detail was dismissed as the woman removed her hand, raising it to her head.
"You all right?" She had finished her self-inspection and nodded.
"Y-yes. Thank you, Chrom." He blinked. Someone who knew the Prince of Ylisse this far out?
"Ah. You know who I am?" He partially hoped she didn't. Bad enough everyone in the capital knew his face, he usually found obscurity in the outer regions . But she was frowning, staring at him with the upmost concentration.
"No, actually. I...It's strange. Your name, it just came to me..." Strange indeed. Chrom couldn't decide whether to believer her or not. He settled on further injury.
"Hmm. How curious. Tell me, what's your name? What brings you here?" Her eyes brightened.
"My name is..." She trailed off, eyebrows knitting together. Biting her bottom lip, her eyes moved from Chrom to the ground, and back again. "It's...I don't know..."
"You don't know your own name?" Yet she knew his? What was this? Lissa chose that moment to pipe up.
"I've heard of this! It's called amnesia!"
"It's called a load of Pegasus dung." Frederick corrected. "We're to believe you remember milord's name, but not your own?"
"But it's the truth!" She didn't have the look of someone who was lying, Chrom could tell that much. But then...what was there to do? With brigands running around, it wasn't safe to leave someone alone. Especially a woman. His etiquette instructors would be so proud. However, he was curious as to why a Plegian, or someone wearing their robes, would be in Ylisse. If it was true, and she did not remember anything, then maybe some information could help her remember.
"...what if it is true, Frederick? We can't just leave her alone here. What sorts of Shepherds would we be?"
"All the same, milord, 'twould not do to let a wolf into our flock." Wolf. Plegia. He decided to appease his second-in-command.
"Excuse me-"
"Right then. We'll take her back into town and sort this out there."
"Wait just one moment!" She stamped her foot on the ground, hands clenched. "Do I not have a say in this?!"
"Peace, friend." Chrom placed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll hear all you have to say back in town, I promise." She snorted, resigning herself to her fate, and they began to move forward. All the while, her eyes are moving between them. Considering, planning, intelligent.
"What will you do with me? Am I to be your prisoner?" Chrom had to chuckle at that.
"You'll be free to go once we establish you're not enemy of Ylisse." Silence, and he glanced over to see her staring off into the distance, biting her lip with eyes narrowed.
"That is where we are? Ylisse?"
"You've never heard of this halidom? Ha!" Frederick snorted. "Someone pay this actress! She plays quite the fool!" The look on her face showed hurt, so Chrom sought to sooth it. There was something that showed Frederick had almost gone too far, too soon.
"Frederick, peace." Subconsciously, he wondered how he was able to read that from a person he had known for less than a guard's watch. "This land is known as the Haildom of Ylisse. Our ruler, Emmeryn, is the Exalt." She looked down, mouthing the names, testing them for some form of familiarity, he suspected. "I suppose proper introductions are in order... My name is Chrom. But then, you already knew that. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."
"I am NOT delicate!" Lissa huffed, then turned to the woman. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick." She paused, "still can't remember your name?"
"...no. Still nothing. All of this is strange and new to me."
"Let's call you Robin for the time being!"
"Why Robin, Lissa?" His sister could be impulsive, but this was a new one.
"Look at her hairtie!" The woman reached up to her head, feeling something hanging from the string that bound her hair. "See? Robin feathers!" She looked startled, but then smiled.
"...I suppose so." She looked between the three of them. "Until I can remember my own name, you may call me Robin."
"No problem! But you're lucky the Shepherds found you first! Brigands would've been a rude awakening!"
"Shepherds?" Blink. "You tend sheep...in full armor." Chrom snorted. Gods, this woman...
"It's a dangerous job. Just ask Frederick the Wary here."
"A title I wear with pride. Gods allow one of us to keep an appropriate level of caution. I wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise. A Knight must always be prepared." Robin nodded.
"I understand. I would do no less if I were in your boots." If she didn't know Ylisse, then she probably didn't know Plegia, so she probably wouldn't understand the full extent of Frederick's caution.
"May I know your class, stranger?" The woman didn't answer, so Lissa, naturally, filled in the silence.
"I'm a Cleric, and my brother is a Lord, though he doesn't act like it."
"Come on, Lissa."
"Hey, it's the truth!"
"Cleric? Lord?" Robin repeated, testing the words. "What...does that mean?"
"What do you mean?"
"Chrom! The town!" Lissa screamed, pulling all of their attention away from the confused brunette. Above the treetops, smoke was rising, too dark to be simply wood burning.
"Damn it! Those blasted brigands, no doubt! Quickly!" He pulled his Rapier from his belt, running forward.
"What about her?" Ah, right. Robin.
"Unless she's on fire as well, it can wait!" The town came first. Then they could worry about Robin and how her lack of memories also extended to her class.
Pushing forward, Chrom stepped into the town, immediately feeling the area change into a battleground. He slashed a bandit, who had cornered a young woman.
"Run!" He commanded, and she nodded, moving as quickly as she could until she escaped the battleground and was able to run freely.
"Chrom, we have to stop them!" Lissa cried, clutching her staff in her hands.
"Don't worry. After today, these bandits won't be bothering anyone ever again..." He assured her, scanning what of the battleground he could see. There was rubble everywhere, limiting his vision, but he could only assume the main square was where the worst of the brigands were.
"Wait!" He spun, ready to see the point of a sword, but it was only Robin, sliding across the cobblestone with ease, stopping next to him.
"Robin! Why are you here?"
"Does it matter? I'm armed," she raised her sword, bronze gleaming like it was new, "and I can help. If you'll have me." Any help was appreciated at this point. She certainly looked capable.
"Of course. Just stay close!
Frederick plunged into the fray, lance a blur as his horse maneuvered him further and further into the battleground. Chrom trusted the Great Knight, going at a pace that allowed Lissa to keep up with him and finish off any brigands that approached them. Robin was keeping pace with him, her sword joined by a tome at some point. Dark Knights used tomes and swords, but once again, she didn't feel like a Dark Knight. Whenever a horse approached or the magic from her tome crackled, she would flinch away. Dodge, slash. Estimate where the next one would stop, make sure Lissa wasn't in danger. Slash, dodge, plan. So caught up was he, that he didn't notice anything odd until,
"Lissa! Back ten steps!" Chrom spun around, just in time to see a rogue unit slash at the area Lissa had occupied moments before the warning. Robin's tome flashed, firing a bolt of lightning at him, and the damage was enough that when Chrom's rapier struck, the man fell.
"Oh, thank you Robin!" His little sister squeezed Robin's free arm. "I didn't even see him there!"
"Sharp eye." Chrom acknowledged. "Maybe you're more of an eagle than a robin with those eyes." But she wasn't laughing.
"I shouldn't have seen him." She confessed. "There was too much in the way. But I did see him. Where he was coming from and how far he would go."
"That's impossible, though." Robin shook her head.
"I can't explain it..." She paused, gazing off into the distance before gasping. "Two enemies. One in the front, one in the back!"
And Chrom trusted her. "Take the back! I'll take the front! Lissa, back us up!" No sooner did the words leave him than a bandit appeared from behind a fallen statue. He parried the spear thrust at him, then swung his rapier for a clean kill. There was a crackle of electricity, and the second bandit was dead.
"Woah, Robin! That was so cool!" Lissa gasped, the entire action taking less than five seconds. Everyone involved had no hesitation and knew what they were doing. "What sort of skill is that?!" Robin frowned, trying to find an answer, but Chrom answered for her.
"That's not a skill." The first time had been shock, something that could be played off. But not this one. The details had been too accurate to be chance. "We can talk later, but Frederick would probably like reinforcements." He knew roughly where the Great Knight was, but he needed proof. She wasn't a part of his Shepherds, so she shouldn't know.
"Yeah! We need to save the town!"
"There's not many left," Robin said, eyes glazed, "Maybe four or five, no, five. Frederick..." She probably didn't notice Chrom watching her. "...yes, he's near the leader. They'll be within fighting range soon." The tome-wielder began moving forward, eyes still seeing something else. Chrom fell into line a step behind her, seeing the smoking tome for himself.
The battle was done. The leader had been killed and the remaining forces had fled. The town mayor had offered to host them, but they needed to keep moving. They had been away from the capital for too long, and this report had to be delivered. Vaike had likely lost half the supply of axes, Sully was probably missing their duels, and Miriel was likely seeking a new supply of materials for her experiments.
Also...Chrom wanted to see what Robin knew. And a town was not the best place for it. Plegian or not, he was curious. She wasn't like any other fighter he had met before. Was it her class? Or was it something else?
They had been walking for an hour. Frederick, whose arm had been cut open when he engaged the leader, was riding his horse. Lissa was walking alongside him, making sure he didn't overexert himself as the wound healed with her powers. Robin was lost in thought, and if Chrom had to guess, she was probably pondering what had happened in town. He decided to broach the topic.
"Robin, what do you know about classes?" She looked up, Frederick looked down at him, and Lissa was staring like he had grown a tail, but she could stare.
"Classes?" She thought a moment, then frowned. "Um, what are classes?"
"Pardon my stupid brother." Lissa said. "It's what we were talking about earlier. Speaking of, you never told us what class you were."
"I...don't understand."
"Seriously?! I mean, amnesia, sure, but how do you not know your own class?!" Lissa turned from Frederick to Robin. "Geez, Robin!"
"Miriam."
"Pardon?" Chrom straightened, "what was that?"
"Miriam. My name is Miriam." There was a new light in her eyes. Excited, but confused at the same time. Always confused, like a child seeing outside of the castle for the first time. "...I just remembered that. How odd. I suppose that's one mystery solved." She gave a small laugh.
"Miriam?" Chrom tested the name. "Is that foreign?"
"I'm not certain But..." she smiled, looking up at Chrom with her blue eyes, "it's a name that belongs to me."
"Pardon me, milord, but can I speak to you privately?" Frederick said tensely.
"Of course, Frederick."
"Alrighty, Miriam, now that we've figured that out, let's sit down and we'll figure out your class while those two are away!" Lissa said cheerfully as Chrom followed Frederick's horse into the woods for privacy. "You have a tome, so all those brute on the frontline are out, oh, but you also have a sword..."
"Yes, Frederick?" The bluenet asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"This woman is clearly ill, milord. Amnesia is one thing, but classes are a part of everyday life-"
"Unless she only remembers in certain situations." Chrom raised a hand. "Frederick, you weren't there, but she was seeing the battleground in a way none of us could. She saved Lissa from a rogue, and saw two attackers charging us before they came into sight. When we found you, it was because Robin saw exactly where you were, more than I could. I'm willing to bet all the gold in the treasury that she's a Tactician." To that, Frederick had nothing to say. Partially because of the absurdity of the statement, partially because it was Chrom, whose interest in Tacticians could border on obsession sometimes. Still, he would follow any order given to him, even if he didn't like it.
"Whatever you believe, milord. Perhaps milady can help her gain an understanding of what her class is."
"Right. Although I don't know if Lissa will have the correct answer, she needs to be informed so she can learn her abilities, whatever they may be, so she can help in the future."
"You plan to make her a Shepherd." Even to someone who did not know the Great Knight, the disapproval in Frederick's voice was clear. "Milord, we know barely anything about her. For all we know, she is an enemy hoping to play into our good graces and strike us when we sleep."
"I would never make someone do anything against their will." Chrom countered. "I will extend an invitation to her, which she has the opportunity of declining. IEven if she does not join, would we really leave her in the dust to fend for herself? t does not matter if she is really from Plegia or simply picked up the clothes because she had nothing else, no one should be stuck in a situation like that. Honestly, Frederick, do you think that little of me?" Chrom already knew the answer, and had simply tried to lighten the mood.
"My apologies. I am only looking out for you and milady. It would be unwise for something unfortunate to happen because our guard was down.
"I understand, Frederick. I do. But with all these brigand roaming the land, we might need some extra help. With Miriam," that was her name, strange and comforting at the same time, like an old nursery story his mother used to read, "here, I can tell that things will turn in our favor." The Great Knight still looked uncertain, so the Lord reassured him. "Watch, and you won't regret it."
to be continued
