Invisible Ties on the Verge of History

"This isn't over! Damn you both!"

Only through magic could darkness be so vibrant. A cacophony of purple and white energy brought into being by sheer will. It is unknown by scholars if wielding darkness requires malicious intent, unfortunate past experiences, or a soul that harbors a black stain; but it was always apparent among those who possessed the aptitude for magic which of them preferred those born from darkness.

"Are you alright?"

Additionally, it was unknown why some humans and creatures alike were more susceptible to darkness. Was it an inherent weakness—that some were more resistant, filled with more light—or could it be due to a potential allowing them to harness such darkness? Very few who proved to be susceptible to such intoxicating darkness lived long enough to determine what about them had proven to cause such weakness. Or they simply did not care to know now that they had accepted such blackened strength.

"That's the end of him. Thanks to you, we carried the day."

Though the nature of darkness and a person's ability to either be weak to or house it within them and will it into being is often pondered; it is always agreed upon which events in history had secured darkness being brought into existence, where it is drawn from by those that wield it…

"We can rest easy now. At long last."

And those that are killed by it.

"What's wrong? Hey-! Hey, what-?!"

Grima.

"This is not your-your fault. Promise me…you'll escape from this place. Please…go…"

A soft breeze and sunlight gently warming her skin were the first things she was aware of as the darkness slowly seeped away from her mind. It leisurely withdrew from her, though, clinging greedily to all that it had covered and absconded with it while begrudgingly fading back to where it had come from.

As she was left with nothing, she started to become more aware of her surroundings, feeling the tickling annoyance of grass brushing across her skin, hearing the rustle of the leaves that rattled in the comforting wind. She knew of these things, yet she couldn't conjure an image of them in her mind. It was nothing but black where she went to recall what all of these things were.

"Chrom, we have to do something," came a feminine candy-like voice, concern laced in the owner's words.

"Well, what do you propose we do?" The second voice was much more masculine, sure of itself despite the question.

"Um-uhh. I don't know."

The sun was now beginning to glare even through closed eyes. Wearily, she opened them, the fogginess of her vision dissipating, revealing two figures towering over her. The young girl on her right let out a gasp and leaned back, her sandy blond hair falling in front of her eyes. The second figure was a man with deep blue hair that starkly contrasted the white of the cloak he wore on her left.

"I see you are awake now," the man said calmly.

"Hey there," the girl piped in.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," the man added with a gentle smile. "Here, give me your hand."

As she accepted his offer for help, she couldn't help but notice the strange brand on her hand. Vibrant purple against her pale skin gleaming at her aching body was brought to her feet by the tame strength of the helpful gentleman before her, his stormy blue eyes never leaving hers.

Uneasy from the closeness of the strangers and the way they were watching her, she took a few steps back, casting her eyes away from the two who had woken her and the other man that stood diligently behind them.

"You all right?" The man asked, frowning at her shirking away from them.

"I-I think so," she said, managing to find her voice. "Thank you… Chrom." His name was just there on her lips before she could even stop herself. How did she know it was his name?

"Ah, then you know who I am?"

"N-no, actually. I just…" she frowned, shaking her head lightly. "It's strange... Your name, I just…knew it…"

Chrom and the girl shared puzzled expression, and the man behind them only frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line. Even from a distance, she could see his hand tighten on his weapon. An iron sword; the damage inflicted is dependent upon the strength of the wielder, though she had no recollection of ever seeing one before.

"…Hmm, how curious," Chrom hummed. "Tell me, what's your name? What brings you here?"

There was nothing but darkness where memory should have been as she searched for an answer. "My name is… It's…hmm…" she closed her eyes and concentrated, willing her name to surface; but she was left with nothing, shaking her head once more in defeat. "I-I don't know."

"You don't know your own name?' Chrom asked her, shock punctuating his words.

"No…" she answered solemnly, finding it difficult to meet any of their gazes. "I'm not sure if…" her eyes darted around her as she finally took in her surroundings and found nothing familiar in the landscape. "I'm sorry, but where am I, exactly."

"Hey, I've heard of this!" the girl in the bright yellow dress interrupted. "It's called amnesia!"

The loss of one's memories, she could define. Was that truly what was happening to her now? It would explain the absence of…everything.

"It's called a load of pegasus dung," the man from behind them growled. His gaze had never moved from her, nor did his hand from his sword.

The sting in his words would have hurt more if she hadn't been trying to conjure up an image in vain of a horse with wings commonly used as mounts in armies; excellent movement but weak to ranged attacks. The bite of his words did not elude her, however, and the feeling of his scrutiny being undeserved still blossomed.

"We're to believe you remember milord's name, but not your own?"

"B-but it's the truth!" she swore, her voice pleading for at least one of them to believe her.

Chrom turned to his comrade. "What if it is true Frederick?" he asked, receiving a scoff from the older man. "We can't just leave her here, alone and confused. What sort of Shepherds would we be then?"

"Just the same, milord," Frederick responded, "I must emphasize caution. 'Twould not do to let a wolf into her flock."

"Right then—we'll take her back to town and sort this out there."

Her focus flickered between Frederick and Chrom, apprehension and unease flooding her. "Wait…do I have a say in any of this?" she asked taking a step back from them. Chrom and the girl seemed friendly enough, but she didn't trust Frederick. She couldn't even remember having ever trusted anyone.

"Peace, friend—I promise we'll hear all you have to say back in town," Chrom said, trying to reassure her with a smile. "Now come with us."

An order, she realized, and from the way Frederick was watching, she knew that it wasn't one that could be refused. Instead, she dropped her head in a resigned nod, following behind Chrom and the other girl, who offered her a sympathetic smile. Unsurprisingly, Frederick followed closely behind her, his hand remaining on the hilt of his sword.

Silence was the only thing that accompanied the group as they followed the well-worn path that lead to the town Chrom had mentioned; and although it was difficult, she forced herself to concentrate inwardly, searching the darkness of her mind, searching for any answers as to what was happening, rather than focusing on the swordsman behind her, and the one that lead her on towards uncertainty.

Twenty minutes ago, she had woken up for the first time in her life it seemed, which she knew couldn't be true, but as far as her memory was concerned in its seemingly nonexistent form, today truly was the first day of her life. The crippling realization that she was missing everything about her and was heading towards a future she didn't have the ability to comprehend was enough to stop in her tracks.

"What are you doing?" Frederick growled from behind her, loud enough to draw Chrom and the other girl's attention. "Keep moving."

She distinctly heard a sword being partially unsheathed. "What will you do with me?" Her question was aimed at Chrom. "Am I to be your prisoner?" she added, casting a nervous glance at Frederick who looked poised to strike at a moment's notice.

Chrom chuckled at the mere suggestion, though from where she was standing, she didn't find it funny. "You'll be free to go once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse."

"Ylisse," she echoed thoughtfully, but as with the other times she tried to recall something, there was nothing. "Is that where we are?"

"You've never heard of the halidom?" Frederick questioned. Crossing her arms, she made herself look smaller as she found the ground much more interesting than any of the people around her. Frederick laughed forcefully, "Someone pay this actress. She plays quite the fool. The furrowed brow is especially convincing…"

"Frederick, please," Chrom silenced him. "This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse," he offered as an explanation. "Our ruler, Emmeryn, is called the exalt."

Exalt, that term was familiar to her. Those of the bloodline that formed an ancient pact with Naga the Divine Dragon.

"I suppose proper introductions are in order…" Chrom continued. "My name is Chrom—but then, you already knew that." He then turned to the sandy-haired girl beside him. "The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."

"I am not delicate!" Lissa protested, shoving her older brother. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes." A large smile spread across her face, "But you're lucky the Shepherds found you. Brigands would have been a rude awakening!"

She frowned. She knew what shepherds were, but these people didn't exactly fit the definition. "Shepherds?" she echoed. "You tend sheep? In full armor…?

Chrom didn't bother stifling his soft laughter nor dampening his smile. "It's a dangerous job. Just ask Frederick the Wary here," he said, nodding to the other man.

"A title I shall wear with pride, milord," Frederick said, finally sheathing his sword completely. "Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution." His threatening demeanor towards her lessened only slightly. "I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise."

A knight, she recognized. Strong with most weaponry, vulnerable to crushing. "I-I understand, sir. I suppose that I would do the same if our roles were reversed," she admitted, as much as she disliked being on the receiving end.

"Shall we continue then?" Chrom asked.

But she was not paying attention. A flock of birds had startled from a nearby tree, launching themselves skyward and catching her attention.

Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist painfully as she was pulled behind a woman with the lightest shade of hair she had ever seen, white like snow, the same as her own. Her chest hurt and her lungs struggled to take in enough air as she did her best to keep up, taking three steps for every one that the woman in front of her took. Every now and then, she would lose her footing, getting all but dragged by the woman that was spiriting her down a drably decorated hallway sporting dark reds and dimly lighting.

Suddenly they were stopping, and she collided with the back of the woman that had been forcing her to run. Peaking from behind the woman's black and purple coat, she could see several men in suits of armor brandishing sharp weapons in front of her. She clutched tightly to the woman in front of her, pressing tightly into the tough material of the coat.

"When I tell you to run," the woman whispered, "you run, and you don't stop, do you understand?"

Her grip on the woman's cloak tightened as she felt herself shake her head no. She didn't want to leave her behind. She was scared and she didn't want to be alone.

"Do you understand?" the woman asked again, her voice much harsher, more desperate and pleading.

"Yes, Mother," she heard herself say, voice wavering.

"Then run!" her mother shouted, shoving her towards the corridor on their right. "Run, Robin!" she cried once more as she rushed towards the men that had found them, blade in hand and magic surging on her fingertips. "Don't stop running!"

Her mother's voice followed her through the corridor as she did as she was told, and left her mother behind.

"Miss?" Chrom asked, drawing her from a single memory she had spontaneously recalled.

"Robin," she corrected him. "That's…that's my name." Robin could then feel the flush of embarrassment burn her cheeks at the way Chrom was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "I just…it suddenly just came to me."

"Robin? Is that foreign?" he mused gently. "Ah well…I suppose that's one mystery solved, though. We can discuss the rest in town. We're almost there, and once we—"

"Chrom, look!" Lissa shouted. "The town!" From their place from a nearby hill, the town could just barely be made out, but it wasn't difficult to see the smoke billowing above its silhouette.

"Damn it!" Chrom swore. "The town is ablaze. Those blasted brigands no doubt…" He hastily drew his sword from its sheath. "Frederick, Lissa! Quickly!"

"What about her?" Frederick asked.

"Unless she's on fire as well, it can wait!" Chrom snapped urgently.

"Aptly put, milord."

"Let's go already!" Lissa shouted.

Chrom nodded in agreement once before racing for the town, Lissa and Frederick following closely behind him.

"But what about—" Robin stopped herself. They were already gone, and for the second time in her life, she was left alone.

"Chrom, we have to stop them!" Lissa whispered harshly.

"Don't worry—after today, these bandits won't be bothering anyone ever again…" Chrom offered his sister a reassuring grin before he turned to move out of the alley and into the open.

"Wait!" Robin hissed, making it just in time to catch Chrom's arm, hauling him back away from the courtyard before anyone could see him.

"Robin! You followed us! Why?" Chrom asked, shocked by her sudden appearance.

"I…I'm not certain myself," Robin stammered, intimately aware of Frederick's drawn sword. "But I can help—you'll need my help."

"And what aid can a so-called amnesiac offer?" Frederick growled.

Robin frowned at him her nervousness forgotten in order to protect them. "The bandits are disorganized which is going to be to our advantage," she started. "Most them wield swords, but there are two axmen, and a sorcerer with them. The leader of this group is in front of the church where he's had his men put all the women."

Chrom started at her, "How do you—"

"Your lance from atop your mount will serve you better against the swordsmen," she continued before finally turning to Chrom. "If you divide yourselves into two teams and use the stalls in the courtyard to your advantage, you can take out most of them before they can organize an effective counterstrike against you."

"How could you possibly know all that?" Chrom asked her

"It…it's strange. I can just see it," her confidence wavered slightly as she realized how crazy it must sound.

"See what?"

"The enemy's strength, their weaponry, weaknesses, the most probable flow of battle…" Robin trailed off. "I must have studied this somewhere."

"So, you're saying you can size up the enemy at a glance?"

Robin nodded. "Yeah… it would seem so. And that's not all. I know my way around a fight too. If you'll have me."

Chrom considered it. "Alright. There's strength in numbers after all, and we could use that tactical mind of yours."

"Milord," Frederick hissed, "are you sure that's wise?"

"She hasn't proven herself to be an enemy yet," Chrom countered, "and her plan is sound."

"It would only take a moment for her to stab us in the back."

Chrom frowned at Frederick, before turning to Robin. "Why should we split up?"

"We need to take out the leader as quickly as possible," she began without hesitation. "It will prevent the enemy a chance at organizing a strike against us and it may also cause the remaining bandits to disband. However, we also need someone to make their way along the outer edge of the courtyard to draw the bandits that are by the houses away from the townspeople and towards us until the leader has been taking care of."

"Well?" Chrom asked Frederick, smug over his triumph with Robin's explanation. "Can you come up with anything better?" The knight merely glared at his charge. "Then we'll go with her plan. Frederick, you and Lissa will skirt the outer edge of the courtyard. Robin and I will charge towards the church."

"And when she turns on you?" Frederick growled.

"If it comes to that, I'll cut her down myself," Chrom countered. "Now get in position."

"Yes, milord," he said defeatedly, quickly mounting his horse an extending a hand to Lissa, helping her into the spot behind him in the saddle. "Do try to exercise some caution."

Chrom gave his knight a somber nod before turning to Robin. "Ready?"

"Yes," Robin answered, drawing the sword from its sheath that was obscured by her black and purple coat. "On your signal, Chrom."

"Let's go then!" Chrom said encouragingly before he turned and raced into the courtyard.

They were able to make it to the first group of bandits and dispatch them before an alarm went out and all the others were aware of their presence. Chrom had been able to take one out from behind with Robin rushing the second, catching him as he turned on Chrom in surprise with his comrade's demise. Together, with Robin striking and catching the bandits blade and Chrom delivering the final blow, they were able to take care of the third bandit.

Their next encounter with bandits was a little trickier. An axman went for Chrom as a nearby swordsman began to approach. Before he could make it to Chrom, however, Robin intercepted him, placing herself between the bandit and Chrom. She caught his blade on her bronze sword, struggling to maintain her grip as the vibrations from the clash of blades sent reverberating numbness to her hands. Wincing as the iron of the enemy's blade took a chunk out of her own sword, she slightly shifted her stance and with a flick of her wrist, she was able to deflect the blow before striking the man down. With a breathy "Thanks," from Chrom, they continued on.

As they drew closer to the church, they began to encounter more enemies, and soon Chrom and Robin were no longer able to fight side by side, separating to take on all comers while remaining close enough to aid one another should the other need it. It was as she was about to catch an axe with her sword that she noticed Chrom had failed to see the mage on his right preparing a spell. Quickly dodging the blow from her foe by launching herself backward, Robin instinctively reached for a power buried deep within her, momentarily forgotten, and directed it at the sorcerer with her free hand.

Symbols that aided in bringing magic forth similar to the ones in the pages of the leather-bound book secured on her belt appeared and lightning charged through the air towards the bandit sorcerer. The fatal blow of electric energy launched the mage backward in a shower of sparks, startling Chrom and draining Robin far more than she was expecting. She was only just able to deflect the next blow from the axman she was still engaged with. She could not, however, avoid his cheap shot with an elbow that collided with her face, splitting her lip wide open as she stumbled backward.

Chrom was there, however, impaling her foe on his sword before knocking him to the ground. "Are you all right, Robin?" he asked, his words strained from the effort of battle.

"I'm fine, Chrom," Robin assured him, her voice much more breathless and strained than his. "Don't worry about me. We need to keep moving."

"Just… don't rush into danger, okay?" he said, concern etched in his already exhausted features.

Robin couldn't help but smirk, "Who saved whom first?"

"I think we're even now," Chrom chuckled before turning to lead the way once more towards the church.

"Milord," Frederick called as he rode up. Some grime from battle clung to his armor, but both he and Lissa looked unharmed from the fighting. "The remaining bandits are fleeing to the east. It seems our forgetful tactician was right about eliminating their leader."

"That almost sounds like an apology, Frederick," Chrom teased

"She still cannot be trusted, milord," he said, dismounting his horse before helping Lissa down. "However, there is no denying that her strategy worked no matter how surprising it might be."

"Seems to be quite a few of those surprises today," Chrom said thoughtfully, his gaze causing Robin to look away in embarrassment. "You can wield magic as well?"

"Um…I guess I can," she offered meekly.

"Wait!" Chrom said, taken aback. "What do you mean you guess? Didn't you know you could use it before attacking an enemy next to me."

"I was able to control it," Robin said.

"I guess I should have stayed a few steps behind you during the battle then," Chrom replied playfully.

"And it looks like you did," Lissa chastised, sidling up to Robin and scrutinizing the small cut on her lip. "Honestly, Chrom, it's bad enough when your recklessness gets you hurt. Now you're getting others hurt because of you."

Robin gave Lissa a nervous half-smile, avoiding using the side that was split open. "I-it's nothing, Lissa. I'm alright."

"It won't be nothing if it scars," she argued. "Hold still for me." And green healing magic was suddenly tracing itself around Lissa's fingertips before Robin could protest further. With a surge warmth filled energy, the pain from her lip dissipated as her wound was healed.

"Thank you," Robin said, "but you shouldn't have wasted your magic on me."

"It wasn't a waste," Lissa smiled. "And it's us and the town that should be thanking you. I mean, holy wow, Robin. You were incredible! Swords, sorcery, and tactics! Is there anything you can't do?"

Remember anything other than my name, she thought ruefully, although Robin knew that Lissa meant it as a compliment. She was unable to prevent herself from thinking back to everything that was missing, the void that took shelter where her memories should be. She could only hope that the others couldn't see where her thoughts dwelled.

"You're certainly no helpless victim, that much is for sure," Chrom commented.

"Indeed. Perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came here," Frederick said coldly.

Robin couldn't help but flinch at his comment. "I…I understand your skepticism, Sir Frederick. And I cannot explain why only certain things have come back to me. But please believe me. I have shared all that I know."

Frederick looked as though he had some cold remark to add, but Chrom interrupted him. "You fought to save Ylissean lives," he said. "My heart says that's enough."

"And what of your mind, milord?" Frederick questioned. "Will you not heed its counsel as well?"

"Frederick, the Shepherds could use someone with Robin's talents," Chrom said. "We've brigands and unruly neighbors, all looking to bloody our soil. Would you really have us lose such an able tactician?" When Frederick failed to answer him, Chrom turned to Robin. "Besides, I believe her story, odd as it might be."

Robin could feel herself blushing under his gaze. "Th-thank you, Chrom."

"So how about it?" he asked with a smile. "Will you join us, Robin?"

Though she wasn't sure what would await her if she accepted, what else could she do? With no memories and no one else besides these three people that all waited expectantly for her answer, it seemed as though it was her only option. Yet, somehow, she knew that these were good people, that they could be trusted; and with nothing else to go on, it was good enough for her.

Robin returned Chrom's smile with a smaller version of her own. "I would be honored."

With formalities attended to, the Shepherds made their way to the courtyard to begin their inspection of the town and its residents. The townspeople that had fearful for their lives were slowly starting to trickle out of the places they had holed themselves up into when hiding from the bandits. Soft murmurings of relief and praise to the Gods and the Shepherds started flooding the area as people began to douse the fires and take account of all that the bandits had damaged with their ransacking.

Some things, like overturned stalls in the market and objects that had been tossed aside, would be easy enough to right; but there were some things that would require a bit more time to fix. The buildings that had been exposed to fire or had suffered a nearby chair or barrel being thrown through the windows would take some time to repair. It was only because of the timely arrival of the Shepherds—as the townspeople were quick to express—that no lives were lost and nothing required rebuilding.

As the adrenaline from battle began to ease out of her veins, Robin became increasingly aware of just how trying the battle had been. She didn't know if it was from her use of magic that had been so draining for her, or the exertion itself, but she found herself quickly sitting down on the edge of a half-wall that spanned the length of the water surrounding the courtyard.

This movement did not go unnoticed. "Robin, are you alright?" Chrom asked, alarm tinging his words as he reached out to steady her.

"Y-yeah," Robin answered quickly. "Just a little lightheaded."

The concern on his face didn't vanish as he nodded in understanding. "It must have been from the quick-casting you used on the other sorcerer."

Robin frowned at him. "Quick-casting?" The term sounded familiar, but the knowledge was just out of reach.

"Yeah, silly," Lissa piped in. "It's when you cast magic without the help of a reference tome. You know, like the one you have on your belt?"

"O-oh..." Robin said before frowning. "But you used magic without one."

Lissa laughed musically. "I'm not that strong, Robin. I pulled from the magic already stored in my staff."

"I see," Robin hummed thoughtfully. It was slowly starting to come back to her. Four types of magic: fire, wind, thunder, and darkness. Four types of ranking: base element, el-, arc-, and rare forms that only masters could wield.

"Why don't you two rest here while Frederick and I make sure that everyone is all right?" Chrom offered, drawing Robin from her recollection. Lissa looked like she was going to argue, but Chrom cut her off by glaring at her before motioning subtly towards Robin. "It'll give you two a chance to gather your strength before we leave for the capitol."

The realization that the others would be postponing their departure because of her spurred Robin to hastily stand. "No, I'm fine. We can—"

But her body was not agreeing with her protest, and only because of Chrom catching her by her elbows to hold her up did she manage not to collide with the ground. "You're fine, huh?" he asked her, guiding her back down.

Robin's cheeks burned from having to be helped by Chrom twice now with second time requiring him to be so close to her. "Sorry…" she said sheepishly.

"Don't worry, Robin," Lissa piped in, taking a seat next to her. "We all know how difficult it can be to keep my brother in check."

"Thank you for that," Chrom said with a roll of his eyes, though he still regarded Robin with concern.

"Besides, we should take this break while we can," she continued, ignoring her brother. "If Frederick had his way we'd never get a chance to rest. He'd have us all marching in our sleep."

"It would afford you the opportunity to build character, milady," Frederick said with a small, polite smile.

"If by build character you mean 'slowly grow to hate you,' then you are correct," Lissa teased back.

Chrom chuckled fondly at his younger sister's antics. "Come, Frederick, we should see to the townspeople and make sure that there aren't any bandits remaining."

"Of course, milord."

"Try not to break anything, Chrom!" Lissa called out to him playfully as the two men began to make their way towards the small crowd of people that had formed.

As they walked away, Robin was able to just barely make out what Frederick asked Chrom in an aside not meant for either her or Lissa to hear. "Did you notice, milord? The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent." Chrom didn't say anything, but Robin caught the subtle nod he used to answer the knight.

Robin frowned. "Lissa?" she asked, getting the younger's attention once Chrom and Frederick were indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd. "What's Plegian?"

The young girl's expression immediately darkened, and Robin almost regretted asking the question. However, Lissa quickly caught herself and smiled as best she could given the topic. Robin couldn't tell if her pretense was more for her sake or Lissa's own benefit.

"Plegia is Ylisse's westerly neighbor," she said. "My brother and Frederick think that they've been sending small bands like the one we just stopped in the hopes of starting a war."

Robin hummed solemnly as she mulled over the new information.

Lissa shook her head in frustration, her smile and any pretense of positivity abandoned for anger. "And it's the poor townsfolk who suffer! Totally innocent, and totally helpless…"

"At least they have the Shepherds looking out for them," Robin said, attempting to comfort her.

"I know…" Lissa looked up from the cobblestone ground she had found terribly interesting earlier and turned her gaze to Robin. "The tension between Ylisse and Plegia is the reason why Frederick is treating you so harshly. He isn't usually so mean."

"It's alright, Lissa," Robin said before she could apologize for Frederick on his behalf. "I understand now."

But Lissa wasn't finished. "Your robes. They look similar to the ones Plegian dark mages wear. I think that's why Frederick is being more wary than usual."

Robin looked down at the black and purple coat with gold accents she was wearing. "It was my mothers," she said almost instinctively, frowning after the words had left her mouth. The one memory she had of her mother and her name had been a blurry flash at best, yet somehow, she just knew it was the same coat. It was curious, to say the least.

"You remember that?" Lissa asked.

Robin quickly averted her gaze, uneasy by the way Lissa was looking so expectantly at her. "The only reason I know my name is because I remembered her saying it."

"Do you remember anything else about her?"

"We…have the same hair color?" she offered quietly. "But I can't remember what her name was…or what she looked like."

Lissa nodded solemnly. "Chrom and I were too young to remember much of our parents, too." And then it was as if she suddenly realized who she was talking to and that Robin's lack of memory was due to more than just being young. "Oh! But I'm sorry, Robin, I didn't mean to—"

Robin stopped Lissa's apology with a shake of her head. "It's funny… As far as I know, today is the first day I have ever existed," she confessed. The soft squeeze of her hand drew he gaze over to Lissa.

"At least it wasn't a horrible first day," Lissa said with a bright smile. "You met Chrom, Frederick, and me; helped to save a village, and joined the Shepherds. Things could have been worse. You could still be in that field."

Robin forced a smile at Lissa's attempt. "Y-yeah. I suppose you're right."

Lissa's own smile faltered a moment before she noticed that Chrom and Frederick were started to head back towards them. With renewed peppiness, Lissa bounced up from her seat and wheeled on Robin playfully. "Think you can stand now or are you going to fall into my brother's arms again?" she asked with a wink.

Cheeks burning, Robin scrambled for answer. "No, no—I mean yes. Yes to being able to stand. No, to falling—"

Laughter interrupted her, however. "I was just teasing you, Robin. No need to get all flustered."

"Right," she sighed as the younger spun away from her.

Robin stood slowly, taking the time to wipe away the dust and dirt that had settled on her coat before following Lissa to join Frederick and Chrom. As she approached, she did all that she could to wipe the melancholy of her heart and mind from her features as she looked to these people that were leading her to a future of unknown possibilities.

Many people would consider her opportunity as a chance at starting anew, having a clean slate, to begin with—without previous experiences forcing them to choose a direction based upon them—to be a blessing. But Robin's aching heart at all the things that were missing from her—friends, family, home, her entire way of life—she couldn't help but think it was a curse.