AN: Well I've finally posted something. For anyone who was looking forward to seeing me publish a story I talked about on my profile, I'm sorry to say this was pretty spontaneous and the only reason I'm posting it at all is that it's also a self-contained piece. It actually started as a "what-if" based off of a Fairy Tail/Fire Emblem: Awakening crossover I had in mind, but it just kind of wrote itself, and it works on its own without the crossover. For people who've played Fire Emblem: Awakening, this is a story focused on "What if Morgan got her memories back? What would she remember?" It's implied in the main story that Morgan was not from the same future as the other future children, and "The Future Past" DLC provides even more hints. We are never explicitly told in the DLC that the Morgan we all know and love (or I that do anyways) is from that DLC's future, but we do get more circumstantial evidence.
So if we assume that Morgan came from that future, the question is: how did she get to the past without her memories? Considering that future Morgan worked for the big bad for at least a limited amount of time, another question is: how did that come about? The few memories Morgan has imply that she lived a good and peaceful life with her family. This is heavily contradicted by DLC Morgan.
So this entire work is based on what we know about Morgan, what is implied about Morgan, and what I think would fill in the gaps nicely. I try to avoid any direct contradictions with canon, and I tentatively think I succeeded, except for a weird part about Morgan's sister, Nah (who is her sister because I'm having the player Avatar get together with Nowi... because dragons) having grown up an orphan, yet being the older sibling of someone who didn't... so basically I'm just picking the version that fits my story better.
This story will be easiest to understand if you've played FE: Awakening and The Future Past DLC, but should still be pretty understandable if you've just played Awakening. If you haven't, hopefully you will get most of it, but there may be terms that you don't know and aren't explained in text (ex: Shepherds is the names of the Ylissean militia). Sorry in advance. Without further ado, enjoy the story!
Morgan held her breath and stilled even her smallest movements. Shrouded by bushes, she was concealed from all eyes. She shifted very slightly, moving some of her wavy green hair out of her eyes. She couldn't betray her position; she had to remain hidden! A stiff breeze blew through the air, interrupting the silence around her. Straining her ears, Morgan tried to listen for any footsteps approaching, but despite her fierce vigilance, she was surprised by the rustle of branches above her, and a body dropped on top of her, pinning her to the ground.
"I win," her older sister's voice said from the body pinning her. She rolled off of Morgan and they stood up, brushing leaves and dirt off their clothes. Her sister appeared to be a girl in her early teens with long green hair braided into thin pigtails. A fond look filled her eyes as she gazed at Morgan.
"Nah," Morgan whined, "how did you find me? I was sure that I had hidden myself perfectly!"
Nah smiled and tapped her nose. Morgan slumped in exaggerated disappointment, and Nah tapped her on the head. "You have to keep in mind all of our senses, Morgan. Our hearing, eyesight, and smell are all far beyond that of humans. You can't keep forgetting that."
Morgan sighed. "Yes, Nah," she said dutifully. She brightened. "I'll get so good at hiding that you won't be able to find me for an entire day!"
"You can't sit still for that long," Nah said, deadpan. Even as Morgan pouted, another figure joined them. She appeared to be a young girl maybe a year or two older than Nah, with the same vibrant long green hair. Bright violet eyes peered from a face filled with mirth.
"Mother," Morgan and Nah greeted. The newcomer, Nowi, laughed, her voice reminding the two of sunlight on a bright, warm day.
"You two are getting pretty good at this," Nowi praised. "Let's mix it up! You two need to catch me within the given time limit."
"Mother," Nah said in exasperation, "we've been playing for hours now. Shouldn't we take a break?"
"Ooh," Morgan said with a bright grin, almost bouncing up and down in excitement. "Let's do it!"
"Great!" Nowi said with a beam. "Okay, you start counting to a million, and then go!" Morgan nodded with a smile, but Nah rolled her eyes.
"Mother, counting to a million is ridiculous, and you haven't even told us how long we have to catch you."
"And start!" Nowi shouted, ignoring Nah. She dashed away through the bushes.
Morgan began dutifully counting. "1… 2… 3…"
Nah put her hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Just count to thirty," she said with a sigh. "Mother won't notice the difference." Morgan shot Nah a doubtful look, but continued.
A count of thirty later, the two girls were off, chasing after their mother. It was discouraging. Their mother was simply faster than them. Nah was well aware of this and used to it, but somehow it managed to disappoint Morgan every time she tried to catch her mother. Nah was about to suggest that they give up until Nowi got bored of not being chased when the two heard a voice from next to them.
"Looks like you aren't doing too well," a male voice said, causing both girls to yelp and whirl around. The two saw a tall man with short silver hair and a black coat watching them with an amused expression. His name was Robin.
"Father!" Morgan yelped. "When did you get here?"
"Oh, I've been here for a little while," he said with a grin on his face.
"Why didn't I smell you?" Nah asked.
"Why don't you think about it for a moment?"
Morgan and Nah thought for a few seconds before Morgan's face lit up. "You're standing downwind!"
Robin clapped a few times. "You got it. The lesson is that no matter how extraordinary your senses are, you cannot assume that just because you can't sense someone that they aren't there." Nah and Morgan nodded seriously. "Now, it appears that you're having trouble catching your mother."
"She's just too fast," Morgan told him with a pout.
Robin smiled. "Now that's not something a budding tactician should say. If she's faster than you, then you need to make a plan to account for that. Your mother is quick on her feet, but she isn't the best tactician. You should use that against her."
"Right!" Morgan chirped. "Plan 'Morgan the Master Tactician' is a go!"
"Don't encourage her, Father," Nah begged Robin, who replied with a chuckle.
"Just as this is a chance to increase your physical conditioning, this is also a chance for you and Morgan to practice strategic thinking. I have faith that you'll come up with something." Robin disappeared into the brush.
"Okay," Morgan began, "it's obvious we can't catch mother in a straight-up race. So, we need to split up. I'll go around and cut mother off from the left. You need to chase her towards me. When she gets close enough, I'll jump her!"
Nah sighed. "I can't think of anything better, but don't you think she'll smell you?"
Morgan smiled triumphantly. "Not if I'm downwind from her."
"You know, that's actually really impressive, little sister. Let's do this."
Morgan snuck around and quietly waited in the shade of a tree, eyes and ears tracing the path of her mother and sister. She smiled; Nah was managing to herd their mother over towards her. Quickly checking to make sure she was downwind, Morgan carefully waited. Sure enough, Nowi burst into view, a laughing smile on her face. The expression switched to a confused dismay as Morgan leapt at her.
"Gotcha!" She tackled Nowi and the two tumbled to the ground. After a moment, they both stood up.
"That's amazing, Morgan," Nowi praised. "That was super clever! You'll be like your father in no time."
Morgan blushed and rubbed the back of her head. She wouldn't give up this feeling for anything—
Morgan's eyes filled with tears as she looked at the burned remains of the oak tree in their house's garden. She hadn't meant to do it—she was just trying to practice with a Fire Tome where no one would get hurt. How could she know that the spell would completely miss the training field?
Robin gazed upon the sight dryly, Nowi by his side. The two of them had put out the fire before it could spread, but it was too late for the tree.
"I'm sorry," Morgan mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't mean to."
Nowi embraced Morgan in her arms. "I know, dear, I know. Accidents happen."
Robin put a hand on her shoulder. "Live and learn, and even this lesson will have been worthwhile."
"But… we loved that tree. Nah and I played in it, and you're always saying that it provides shade for the house!"
Nowi released Morgan, and Robin raised Morgan's head until it was looking at the burnt tree. "What do you see?" he asked her.
"A dead tree?"
Robin shook his head. "That's not what I see. I see a new beginning. Another tree, an even better tree will build off of the ashes. Just you wait, Morgan: in a few years life, beautiful life, will spring anew from those ashes."
Morgan sniffed. "Really?"
Robin smiled. "Definitely."
"But I still destroyed it. What about the birds that had their nest destroyed? Now they don't have a home."
"It's a part of life," Nowi interjected. "Sometimes bad things happen. You know that your sister sometimes has the urge to rampage. You're a kind girl, Morgan, but you don't need to take everything on your shoulders. The birds weren't in the tree at the time, and they'll create a new home. Let's pick out another tree! We can go into the forest and find our favorite, and then bring a seed back!"
Morgan shook her head, and a smile made its way onto her face. "Yeah! Maybe it will be an apple tree, I love apples."
"Let your mother take you out to find a new tree seed. I'll clean up the dead tree. And Morgan, next time you want to practice, I'll help guide you. I'll show you how to focus your power so this doesn't happen again."
Morgan nodded, and Nowi guided her daughter out of the garden and into the forest beyond. "I know the best apple tree," Nowi babbled nonstop. "It's right over here!"
"Found it!" Morgan chirped, pointing at a large tree with shining apples hanging from it.
"Great! Let's grab as many apples as we can hold." The two gathered a huge armful of red, juicy apples, and returned to their garden where the blackened tree had been removed, leaving only ashes to show its former presence.
After stashing the apples in a cupboard, Nowi, Robin, and Morgan shared a particularly large one together, all sitting around a simple table. Robin, who had cut the apple, held up an apple seed. "See this? This is the beginning of the new life, Morgan. Even ashes can produce life, and what comes next is often even more beautiful than before. Did you know that after a large forest fire, a new, greener forest is born?"
Morgan shook her head, eyes wide. Robin smiled. "Then let's go and—"
Morgan frowned as she glared intently at the book in front of her. She just couldn't understand just why it said a pincer maneuver was a valid response to a particular type of ambush. You wouldn't even have time to split the army up, how could you attack from two ends?
"Still staring at those boring books?" Nowi's voice interrupted, and Morgan turned to see her mother standing at the doorway, a slightly perplexed look on her face.
"Mother, I can't help it, they're just so interesting," Morgan began, but Nowi waved her hand.
"Forget those silly books. Owain and Cynthia are here."
Morgan's face lit up like a lamp. "Coming!" She hastily put away the dreaded and definitely incorrect book (she should probably tell father one of their strategy books was defective), shrugged on her personal travel pack, and rushed out of their small house.
A young man with sandy blond hair, a tan fur coat, and white pants stood alongside a young woman sporting long, deep brown hair and a short practical black dress. Both appeared to be a few years Morgan's senior. They were Owain and Cynthia, Morgan's best friends.
"The last member of the Justice Cabal has arrived!" Cynthia yelled dramatically.
"Hee hee, as energetic as ever!" Morgan cheered.
"But of course," Owain announced. "We can't let our youngest member fade into the background; you must be like a conquering star, in front and shining!"
"Aww, you're making me blush. What evil forces shall we conquer this day?" Morgan asked.
"The innocent people of this city are terrorized by a vicious, malevolent creature, a furred beast from your worst nightmares, feasting on animal and plant alike!"
"So, we have a bear problem," Morgan translated. Upon noticing Owain's and Cynthia's expressions, she added hastily, "Ah, yes, the Justice Cabal cannot allow this to continue! Forward my brethren!"
Morgan followed her friends out of the city, where Owain turned to them. "Noble villagers have reported the beast appearing within the dark forest to the south. While we cannot know what dangers lurk in the depths within, we must never falter in our quest."
"Forward to honor and victory!" Cynthia added. "May our blades strike false upon this vicious creature."
"You mean true," Owain corrected, and Cynthia blushed. Choosing to ignore the exchange, Morgan's face scrunched into a frown.
"So how shall we find this vile monstrosity?"
"I shall use my impeccable tracking skills," Cynthia declared. Morgan raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Despite her bluster, Cynthia had gone through the same basic training all Pegasus Knights had, including basic tracking. She wasn't a master by any means, but tracking down a bear shouldn't be too hard.
Sure enough, it was only a few minutes of periodic pauses and trudging through the underbrush before they heard a growl. Ahead was a large brown bear, gazing at them with hostility. All three of them drew their weapons. Morgan withdrew a Tome from a bag hanging from her shoulder.
"Beware foul beast!" Cynthia shouted, striking what she no doubt considered to be a dramatic pose. She threw some glitter into the air around her which sparkled down around her, making her almost glow in the light.
Owain raised a hand. "My sword arm thirsts for your blood, monster."
"Justice will always prevail against evil!" Morgan chimed in.
Cynthia and Owain rushed in, Cynthia wielding her spear while Owain carried a sword. Cynthia stabbed towards the bear's chest while Owain aimed to take out the legs beneath it. The bear avoided both attacks with an awkward hop backwards, but before it could attempt to strike back, Morgan uttered a spell word, Tome raised. "Fire." A blast of fire rammed into the bear, causing it to roar and stumble back as it's fur ignited, sending a strong stench through the air.
Morgan's friends immediately took advantage of the opening and impaled the creature on spear and sword. A few weak struggles later, and the beast passed away. "Well," Morgan began, "I guess we're having roasted bear meat tonight—"
"Morgan, you need to stop wasting time," Nah scolded. "We're going to be late."
"Ha, it'll be fine," Morgan shot back, a bright grin on her face. "We can be fashionably late."
Nah growled as they walked up a grassy hill, a gentle breeze blowing against their faces. The two sisters were heading to a meeting of the second-generation Shepherds. Morgan's friends would be there.
"We're here!" Morgan cheered as they finally passed the crest of the hill. In front of them there were seven people loosely arrayed throughout a clearing ahead. A tall man with glasses and an elaborately brimmed hat that hid scarlet red hair glanced at the two, a disapproving look on his face. His name was Laurent.
"You're twenty minutes late. Morgan, punctuality is a virtue."
Morgan chuckled and rubbed her head sheepishly. "I guess I just can't keep track of time," she admitted.
"It's not that you can't keep track of time, Morgan, it's that you don't care," Laurent corrected.
Nah bowed her head in apology. "I'm sorry for our tardiness."
Laurent waved a hand. "You're not to blame, Nah." He turned to the rest of the people present. "It appears our last members have arrived."
The rest perked up and looked over. "Morgan, Nah!" called Cynthia. "Good to see you again. Somehow we're always busy these days."
"Hey!" Morgan called back. "Are we going to be having a party? I love parties!"
"Hyper as ever, Morgan," a young man with long rabbit ears told her. Morgan was unsure whether Yarne's tone was amused or annoyed, but quickly decided she didn't care.
"Better too much energy than too little," Morgan said with a laugh.
"Indeed, you are like a ray of sunshine upon a cloudy day," another man declared. He was tall with short silver hair and dressed in fashionable formal clothes.
"Ah, you're gonna make me blush, Inigo," Morgan returned with a sly smile. An idea slid into Morgan's head. "But with lines like that, you're not going to get far."
"What? But you were flattered!"
"I'm really easy to flatter. I don't count. Maybe if you practiced a bit on the others you'd be more convincing."
"Don't encourage him," Nah told her, a look of exasperation on her face. It was too late; a determined expression fixed upon Inigo's face.
"Indeed, though I have been shot down many-a-time, I have faith that I will win a lady's heart tonight." Inigo leapt onto a conveniently nearby log, elevating himself. Even as he opened his mouth, Morgan snuck around to the side of the log. Just as Inigo began to speak (and irritated expressions began to show on the others' faces), Morgan shoved the log.
It had already been in a somewhat precarious position, and it completely flipped over, dumping Inigo onto the ground in an ignominious heap.
Morgan burst out into laughter, and after a surprised silence, several others joined her. A red-faced Inigo slunk away.
"That was kind of mean," a timid girl with long hair put in, a slight look of disapproval on her face. Her name was Noir.
"And funny," Owain added, a grin on his face. "That showed him what for. Hearing him hit on ladies has gotten almost as annoying for us as being hit on is for the ladies."
"Oh, I don't know," Morgan replied, "it's actually hilarious to watch him get shot down."
"That's because you're a sadist," Nah put in.
Morgan paused for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, you're probably right."
"You're a piece of work, Morgan," Yarne said.
"Haha, you think so?"
Another person stepped forward: Brady, a man with spiky blond hair and a casual outfit. "You are a little, but you're our piece o' work."
"Don't worry about it, Morgan," a woman with long blue hair assured her. She was the group's leader, Lucina, the daughter of Chrom. "You're also the kindest person I know. Somehow."
Laurent nodded. " 'Tis a great paradox, true. One of the many unknown mysteries of the world." Everyone laughed, and Morgan felt a warm feeling inside—
The second-generation Shepherds all glanced at each other nervously. The air buzzed with tension, and even Morgan was having difficulty keeping her spirits up. After a couple of half-hearted attempts to break the mood, she too had lapsed into a fidgeting silence. The group's respective parents had gone into the Plegian capital to negotiate with Validar, the ruler of Plegia and one of the leading members of the Grimleal, a group of religious fanatics dead set on reviving the dark Fell dragon, Grima.
Unfortunately, being a Grimleal wasn't a crime. Even though Validar was technically the leader of an allied nation, Robin and Chrom had had a bad feeling going into the meeting, which is why they brought all of the Shepherd elites and a large number of soldiers. They would be ready for any trick.
There was a heavy, cold feeling in Morgan's heart, sapping her strength and spirit. Something was very wrong—she could feel it. Even the others looked nervous, but Morgan was sure that they weren't sensing what she was. Maybe it was because she was a Manakete, but while Nah looked tense, she didn't betray the same sickening fear that was in Morgan's heart.
Suddenly, with a flash of dark energy, Robin appeared in front of the group. "Father!" Morgan and Nah exclaimed, and rushed forwards. "What happened? Where's everyone else?"
"I killed them," he said casually. His voice was underlain with an odd, cruel echo, but was otherwise nonchalant. The group froze, trying to process Robin's words.
"What?" Morgan asked weakly. She couldn't have heard that right. Father had to be joking.
"I believe you heard me."
"But that doesn't make sense," Lucina said, stepping towards Robin. "Why would you do that?" The entire group rose and drew their weapons, save for a conflicted Morgan.
"It's because I've realized my true self. I am the avatar of the Fell dragon, Grima! No, I am Grima, in every way that counts."
"But how?" Nah interjected, her voice pleading. "How could that be?"
"I care little for your questions. It's time for me to finish wiping out the Shepherds."
"Father," Morgan began weakly, "how could you do this?"
Robin… no, Grima paused for a moment. "Do you really want to know the truth?"
Morgan nodded rapidly. She would do anything to understand what was happening. Grima smirked. "Come with me, and I'll show you."
"What about my friends?"
"They'll die, as I said," Grima said dismissively. Morgan was about to protest when they heard the running of footsteps. Hundreds of Ylessian soldiers were joining the beleaguered group, and Grima looked taken aback. "I didn't expect them to respond that quickly. I'll have to settle for a lesser prize." He turned to Morgan. "Come with me."
Morgan nodded, dazed, and began to walk towards her possessed father. Nah grabbed her wrist. "Morgan, stop! That's not our father."
"But I am," Grima said with a snide smirk. "I always have been. I simply didn't understand before." In a blur, he appeared in front of Nah and Morgan. He knocked Nah backwards with a negligible wave of a hand before kneeling in front of Morgan, hand outstretched. "Join me, Morgan. I need someone I can trust absolutely, and I believe you're that person."
Morgan's conscience was screaming at her; this was a monster who had killed countless people, including her mother if he was to be believed, which a small part of her hoped he wasn't. But he was also her beloved father, the person she loved more than anything in the world. Finally, her heart hardened. She would go with Grima, and figure out whether he was still her father. Then she would make her decision. She reached a hand out to meet Grima's, and they disappeared in a burst of light.
When she was once again able to focus, Morgan saw that she was in what looked like some kind of dark temple. There was a large, ornate table in front of her, and Grima took a seat on the edge. "This is an altar of power, dedicated to me. Now, I know that you're full of questions. Ask."
"How are you both Grima and my father? Why did you kill mother and the others? What happened to you?" Morgan's voice was pleading, desperate for an answer, any answer.
"I was born to be Grima's vessel. I am the son of Validar. This was hidden from me until only a few hours ago, when I went to this table and woke the primal energies within, allowing the spirit of Grima to awaken me, his Avatar. The others wouldn't understand, and would seek to kill me. Destroying them first was simply prudent."
"So, you're not my father," Morgan concluded with a heavy heart, and looked down. A firm hand raised her head and she stared Grima in the eye.
"But I am your father," his strange, dual-tone voice said. "I am everything that he was born to become, and am greater in every way. I am Robin taken to his furthest potential. I am Grima, and I am Robin."
Morgan opened her mouth to protest, but her head began to swim. His eyes… she could get lost in them. So much like her father's, yet so different. "Hear me," his voice whispered in her head. "I am your father, and your master. Let me make you strong, Morgan. Let me show you my world. The world you live in is beautiful, but transient. In order to build a stronger world, we must first break down this one."
"Break it down?" Morgan wondered aloud. Suddenly, words came to her lips. "Did you know that after a large forest fire, a new, greener forest is born?"
Grima smiled, and this one was almost like Robin's; fatherly, and oh-so-proud. "Those were some good apples, weren't they, Morgan?" She leveled her eyes to his, and nodded. Grima dropped his hand. "Get some rest. We'll begin tomorrow. You'll be the strongest of the Grimleal when I'm done with—"
"Nosferatu!" Morgan shouted, holding a black spell tome in her hand. Dark energy lashed out and engulfed a training dummy, which slowly disintegrated into dust.
"Weak," a voice nearby said, causing her to startle and whirl around. There, in front of her, was Father; no, Master Grima. He looked unimpressed.
"But Fa- Master Grima," she began, correcting herself in time. Grima had given her progressively harsher punishments for slipping up. "I destroyed the target."
"Your incantation took half again the time it needed to, and you didn't hit center mass, causing the destruction to take longer. You are a prodigy of Dark Magic, Morgan, and I won't allow you to fail to meet expectations."
"Yes, Master Grima," Morgan promised.
"Now that you can cast Nosferatu, it's time to teach you how to summon Risen."
She blanched. "But…" The thought of making those undead abominations… she knew that she would be asked to at some point, but the very thought made her recoil. Grima had made her learn all about the principles behind Risen, though thankfully she had managed to avoid learning how to create them. Making Risen was nothing less than the enslavement and torment of a soul.
"No arguments! You possess all the knowledge you need to summon a base Risen, and I won't allow my strongest servant to be unable to summon her own soldiers."
"Yes Master," Morgan said dully. She followed Grima around the palace compound at Plegia's capital until they reached a different training ground. Morgan gagged as she saw over a dozen corpses lying on the ground.
"Watch," Grima commanded. With a wave of his hand, dark energy flowed out of him and engulfed six of the corpses. Dully, they lumbered to their feet. "We'll start by learning to reanimate corpses. Summoning Risen is a much more complicated task that, until you master Mire, you are unlikely to be able to utilize."
Morgan was struck silent by the display. She had felt the evil, reeking magic that had exuded from Grima. She was expected to utilize that? Grima pulled a tome from his side and tossed it to her.
"Read that cover-to-cover. When you have managed to reanimate every corpse in this field, I will be satisfied. You have one week."
"One week?" Morgan spluttered. "That's ridiculous!" She immediately cowered under his glare.
"Out of all my Grimleal, you have the highest potential. I would hate to learn that my faith in you is utterly misplaced. You will accomplish this, or you will suffer the consequences." Morgan could only nod weakly—
Morgan embraced the dark energy that coursed through her and released it with a wave of her hand. A dozen corpses rose from the training field in front of her and stood on their feet. Unlike her first attempts, these new Risen were strong and steady. With practiced ease, she ignored the foul aura around them. The same sensation that had made her violently ill the first time she used this power now left her unmoved.
Grima clapped slowly behind her. "You've come a long way, Morgan. You're ready to begin aiding my conquest of Yllise. You're aware of the current situation?"
Morgan nodded. "The second-generation Shepherds along with the rest of the Yllise military have lost most of the country, but managed to hold onto many lesser fortresses and the capital—albeit barely."
"Yes, and your job will be to take one of their more stubborn holdouts."
"Master Grima, I'm honored by your faith in me, but are you certain that I am capable of this?"
"I am. You're adept in all but the highest levels of darkness magic and are capable of creating and summoning Risen. I will send you with a large strike force of Risen. You're a prodigal tactician. I could not be prouder of you." Morgan took a moment to bask in his praise as Grima continued. "You will find a way to conquer that stronghold. Now—"
Morgan ran desperately to the front doors of the fortress in front of her. It was easy to see just how it had resisted the forces of the Grimleal and Risen; strong, tall stone walls and a heavily barred gate promised a powerful defense against any invaders. Numerous archers lined the walls. No doubt the only reason she hadn't already been struck down was that she was both alone and obviously not a Risen. Two stern, well armored guards stood outside the gate.
"Halt! You will go no further, trespasser," one guard told her, lifting his spear for emphasis.
"Please, you have to listen. My name is Morgan, I'm the daughter of Nowi. Please tell whoever's in charge that I just escaped from Grima; I've eluded his forces, but they're nearby. You have to help me." The desperation and terror in Morgan's voice were clear to the guards, and with a glance between them, they nodded and one slipped inside, the other alert for any treachery.
Some time passed, and Morgan began to visibly fidget under the guard's scrutiny. Would they let her in? Morgan's heart shuddered, and inside she prayed. The guard who had slipped in walked out. No longer showing his previous hostility, his posture now showed an almost sympathetic air. "Lord Owain and Lord Brady are inside. They are delighted to see you again."
Morgan's face burst into a relieved grin. "Oh, thank Naga. It will be wonderful to see them again." The guards let her inside, where she was met by a servant.
"Lady Morgan, allow me to take you to Lord Owain and Lord Brady."
"Lord Owain and Lord Brady?" Before all this had happened, Morgan might have laughed at the thought. Owain was hardly what you'd call a lord, and Brady had practically built his entire persona around being non-noble, though he had the manners when it came down to it. Now the news was met with only a wry grin.
The servant nodded. "They are the commanders of this garrison. They were delighted to hear of your safety and wish for you to be brought to them at once."
"Then let's head out." The two went deeper into the fortress until they entered a large room. Maps were plastered over the walls. What appeared to be a strategy table rested in the middle of the room, a number of chairs hastily placed around it. As Morgan and the servant entered, two figures sitting around the table stood up. Morgan clearly recognized both Owain and Brady. Slightly older, aged by tragedy, but definitely them.
"Morgan!" Owain exclaimed, not bothering with his usual theatrics. He rushed up to Morgan and drew her into a hug. The gesture was completely out of character for the man Morgan had known, but somehow was all the more sincere for it. Morgan returned the gesture, basking in the warm feeling. But even that feeling couldn't thaw the cold that lived in her very core. "We were so worried."
"Ain't a single one of us who didn't worry 'bout you, Morgan. Your sis was crushed by your capture. Some of us thought you'd died."
"It was pretty bad," Morgan whispered, looking down. The warmth began to fade from her chest, leaving only ice. "He got into my head, trying to make me listen to him. I had to pretend I was on his side. That was the only way he would give me a chance to escape."
"Morgan," Owain began, "you don't have to worry anymore. The great hero Owain is on the case!"
Morgan managed a smile. "That's reassuring." She looked around the room. "What's the military situation here?"
"Not good," Brady said bluntly. "Lots o' small attacks, bleedin' us dry. We have a lot o' injured. It's mostly the walls that protect us."
Owain stood up tall. "True, our noble forces aren't at their best, but our archers are flawless and with me leading the charge, we'll be able to hold on for a long time. After all, the only reason we're here is for a staging ground to get Sable and Argent."
"The two gemstones? How would you get them from the Grimleal?"
"We're meeting up with Yarne and Inigo, and we'll be escorted by elite soldiers. It will be highly risky, but this fortress will help as a base," Owain explained.
Morgan nodded. "I see. Sounds like you have things planned out. There's just one thing I need to show you." Her friends looked puzzled, but nodded. Morgan took a few steps back, and drew a tome from her side. It flew open, and pages turned in a blur until it settled about halfway in. Her hand glowed with darkness, and she slammed it onto the ground. Light blinded all those present, and when it faded, dozens of Risen filled every corner of the room. "Attack!"
Some Risen rushed Owain and Brady while others ran out of the room. Owain and Brady, in their confused disbelief and denial, were in no state to resist their attackers. Just as the Risen's blades were about to land in their flesh, a blur appeared, knocking the Risen back. Yarne had arrived. "What have you done?" he demanded.
"What I needed to. You seek to destroy Master Grima, and thus your lives are forfeit."
"Why do you serve that monster? Why would you attack us?" Owain demanded, having finally regained control of himself. "Why would you betray us?"
"It is my father's will," Morgan told them. "He's going to make a better world."
"Better?" Brady demanded. "You're crazy. Is this a better world?"
"Growth requires sacrifice," Morgan retorted, and she drew another tome from her side. "Goethia." Dark lightning exploded outwards towards the three, ripping a couple of Risen who happened to be in the way to pieces without even slowing down. The three barely managed to dodge, but the dark energies blew a hole in the wall, revealing a large sitting room filled with card tables.
Owain, Brady, and Yarne glanced at Morgan with conflicted gazes, and then turned their eyes to the Risen approaching them. Finally, they turned tail and ran through the opening in the wall.
"You won't get away!" Morgan shouted. She clenched a glowing, green stone on her belt. Her Dragonstone. With a flash of energy, a large dragon stood where the girl had previously. The dragon had beautiful, golden scales, but somehow, they reflected darkly in the light, casting a sinister glow on the room around her. Majestic wings, with gold bones and green webbing, folded to fit within the room. A pair of majestic emerald horns jutted from her forehead. Her maw opened and a raging torrent of energy burst from it towards her fleeing opponents—
"I see," Grima said calmly, staring down at a kneeling Morgan. He was barely recognizable at this point, shifting black shadows dancing over his body, tarnishing and blackening it. A visible dark aura further shrouded his features. Morgan knew that the time of Grima's full resurrection was growing close. "So, despite your success, your two old friends escaped."
"I beg for your forgiveness, Master Grima," Morgan told him, heart heavy with her failure. Yet there was a small part that felt equal relief.
"You are forgiven," he told her carelessly. "But now we know their objective, and we can also assume that the gemstones Gules, Azure, and Vert will also be targeted. I will increase the guard around the gemstones, and should they be taken, your task will be to ensure that all five gemstones and the Fire Emblem are secured. The children must not be allowed to them to the table, my altar of power. Even now, the gemstones are slowing the process of regaining my full power. Should I leave the table too early, they may be able to renew the seal on my power."
"I won't let that happen, Master Grima," Morgan promised. "But I can only be in one place a at a time. I fear that even if I stop one group, I won't stop the others."
"Stopping one group will be sufficient," he told her, "but I see your concern." He reached a blackened hand out and placed it on her head. She felt a chill engulf her and she gasped. Shadows gathered beside the two and formed to show… another her. A seemingly perfect duplicate.
"This shadow Morgan possesses your skills and memories," he told her. "It's temporary, but will be able to fill in one of your tasks in your stead. Your enemies will not notice a difference; they will hesitate to strike it down just as they will hesitate to strike you."
"But my Lord, soon all of them will know of my betrayal."
"Emotions aren't rational. They will feel betrayed, but they will still feel attachment. Just as you used that against them just now, you will use that against them again. Now go. You must force the remaining Ylissean forces to retreat to the capital."
"Yes, Lord Grima—"
Morgan surveyed the battlefield below, face concealed by a hooded robe. It had been some time since she had first chased Brady and Owain away, and she had successfully forced the enemy forces into retreat, one stronghold at a time. And yet, not all was well; she had recently been informed that the four gemstones needed to renew the seal on Grima's power had been stolen. Still, with the help of her shadow duplicate she would eliminate the thieves. Yarne, Inigo, Brady, and Owain were surrounded by Risen that Morgan had summoned, and would be overwhelmed in short order. She felt a sense of relief that she had not been forced to reveal herself. Despite her resolve, Morgan did not wish to hear their justified condemnations of her. She shook her head to clear any doubts from it. "Master Grima, I'll never betray you. I'll stay by your side no matter what form you take. I swear that all who stand against you shall fall by my hand." She nodded, resolve firmed.
She idly listened to the desperate conversation happening below her when suddenly, she heard a footstep behind her and whirled around. Why hadn't she smelled this person? Oh… they were downwind.
Upon laying eyes on the newcomer, Morgan's eyes widened. "Ahh, Master Grima!" she yelped in surprise. There stood her father and master, but the shadows around him were absent. Could this mean that he was already separated from the power sealed within the table? This was very bad.
Grima raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"What are you doing here? Please, return to the table! It's too dangerous!"
"What are you talking about?" Grima asked, puzzled. Or was it Grima?
"Wait… you're not Master Grima?" Then who was he? He was the spitting image of her father!
"I think you have the wrong person," the mysterious man told her. "I'm not even from this world. I only just arrived to lend the Ylisseans what help I can."
"You're from another world," Morgan repeated. "Then that makes you… No. This is dreadful news. I must alert my master that reinforcements have arrived… But…" Her father stood before her. An alternate father who had never awakened to his true nature, a version of her father before he had been consumed by darkness. This was a strategic catastrophe that threatened to ruin everything Grima worked for. If an alternate version of her father was here, it was very likely others would be as well. But why would her father, a master tactician, just tell her something like that? Couldn't he tell she was the enemy?
"You seem troubled," the man, Robin, offered.
"That's not your concern!" Morgan blurted out. "Why did you tell me you're in league with the Ylisseans? Not a sound strategy, is it? What if I'm with the enemy? I could report your arrival and summon more Risen."
"I suppose," Robin said casually. "The hood does make you look a bit shady. But something in my gut tells me you're no enemy of mine."
How could he just say that so calmly? How could he think that? "A tactician ought to base his judgments on more than a gut feeling."
"Oh? And how did you know I was a tactician?" Robin countered.
Damn, she had given too much away. "I have my ways," Morgan offered, visibly backtracking.
Robin cut straight through her smokescreen. "You know me. Or at least, you know me in this world. And based on your concern before, I can only surmise I'm someone you care about… Isn't that right?"
How was he so perceptive? "So what if you are? You won't get me to talk, no matter how you torture me. I know where my allegiance lies. I trust that your…" Damn, another slip-up. "That his path is the correct one."
"I don't know what the other me in this world is up to, but I'll tell you one thing. He's lucky to have you."
How could he say that so easily? Why were his innocent words like a stake in her heart? Morgan thought she had frozen it over, but... this pain. Hastily, she tried to cover how much those words had affected her. "I… I said that's none of your concern!"
"You're right," Robin agreed, to her surprise. "I overstepped my boundaries. Here. Let me give you this as my way of apologizing." Robin took a thick book from his belt and handed it to her.
"What is it?" A tome perhaps? It did look familiar.
"One of my favorite books," Robin clarified. "It details my basic battle strategies. Perhaps it might benefit one so obviously fond of tacticians."
"But isn't this special to you? And more importantly, aren't you worried we'll use this against you? I could end your little crusade right here and now!" What was Robin doing?
"You could. But you won't."
Another stake pierced Morgan's heart. "What makes you so sure?!"
"You remind me of someone, too. Someone very special to me. Again, it's a gut feeling, but I do not believe you wish me harm."
This time, Morgan could not bring herself to respond. With mere words, Robin had utterly defeated her and shattered her will to fight.
"Time is running short, and I need to go. But I'm glad we got this chance to talk." Robin quickly ran from her, heading towards the Risen attacking the children below. Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan spotted several other figures joining in on the children's side, but she only focused on the book in her hands. Suddenly she looked up, seeing Robin disappearing down the hill.
"Huh? Wait, where are you…" Robin was already gone. "I already have this book. You gave it to me long ago. The notes and dog-ears are all exactly the same." Morgan sighed. She couldn't do it. She couldn't keep fighting. Up until now, her faith was unshakable. She was ready to kill her own friends… but she could not strike down the kind and gentle father she once knew… "Forgive me, Master Grima. I must withdraw… I remain your servant and am ready to accept any punishment you see fit." Morgan grasped her Dragonstone, and with a flash of light the golden dragon reappeared. With a flap of her wings, she withdrew from the battle—
In a flash of light, Morgan reentered her human form and strode into the shrine where Grima waited. The ominous walls and disturbing atmosphere of the shrine were almost reassuring to her at this point, and she took a deep breath. "Master Grima!" she called. Morgan frowned. No reply. How unusual—Grima was always hanging around the table. She heard footsteps and turned to see a man in dark robes, Grima's symbol etched into in them. Some low-ranking member of the Grimleal, no doubt.
"Pardon me, Lady Morgan," the man began, "but Master Grima went to Ylisse's capital. He told us that it was time to end the Shepherds once and for all."
"But…" Morgan was almost speechless. The gem-thieves were heading back to Ylisse. If the other gems were also successfully stolen, something that Morgan could not automatically refute, then all of the gems and the Fire Emblem would be united in Ylisse, right where Grima was headed. The conditions for the Awakening—for her master's downfall—were almost met.
Her own weak heart might lead to the death of her master and father. Morgan whirled around and ran out of the shrine. Turning into a dragon, she powered forth at full speed towards Ylisse. She knew that she would almost certainly be too late to assist in the battle to come, but she would try. She had been in flight for almost half an hour when the air changed.
As Grima had gained in power, those with a connection to the world around them, such as Manaketes, had been able to feel the darkness rising. But then, for just a moment, the now familiar sinister aura flickered. Then it vanished. Within seconds the air became easier to breathe, and all living things relaxed slightly. All except for Morgan, who emitted a wordless, shrieking roar.
Falling to the ground with just enough control to avoid being hurt, she reverted to her human form, sobbing on the ground. "Father… No…" Morgan was consumed by a tornado of emotions. Despair, guilt, self-hatred, and remorse flowed through her body. She couldn't take it. She couldn't take this pain. For a moment Morgan considered ending her own life. She shook her head. That wasn't her right. That right belonged to the Shepherds of Ylisse. She had killed so many of them; it was just right that they return the favor.
She began to drag herself in a slow walk towards her previous destination. At this pace, it would take another day to get there, but she had time. It was really all she had. Hopes, dreams, ideals, loyalty… all of it had been shattered in an instant. She was so very tired. Tired of fighting, tired of moving forward, even tired of living. Perhaps she wouldn't even make it to Ylisse. Morgan just couldn't bring herself to care.
"Oh, you poor child," a voice whispered in her head. "You've suffered so much." Morgan looked up weakly, trying to identify the voice.
"Naga," she concluded. "I thought father had killed you."
"He did, and it was only through the noble sacrifice of my Voice that I was able to regain myself. But you know as well as I that he wasn't really your father."
"Shut up."
"It hurts, doesn't it. The pain of losing what you care about the most."
Morgan laughed, but there was no mirth in it. It was a laugh of hysteria and despair. "It wasn't worth it. None of it was worth it. The world Grima sought to build wouldn't be built on ashes, it would be ashes. I've killed so many people, and it was all for a lie!" Morgan ended with a scream. There was silence for a few moments. "I could have lived with it, if we really had built a better world. I could have lived with it if he kept me by his side. But neither of those will ever happen now."
Morgan began to trudge forwards once more.
"Where are you going?" Naga asked.
"I will turn myself in. The Shepherds will judge and sentence me. Whether it's a lifetime of imprisonment or death, I don't care. I don't matter anymore. I might as well disappear."
"None of your old friends honestly believe you willingly betrayed them," Naga told her. "You will not face either of those ends if you go."
"But I betrayed them. Why would they do anything else?"
"Your friends and family care too much for you. They may never accept you as much as before, but they still have a place in their ranks for you to live.
"What if I don't want to live in this world?!"
Silence filled the air for a few moments. "If you were given another chance, what would you do with it?"
"What's the supposed to mean?"
"If you could go back in time, what would you do? Would you stop Grima's destruction?"
Morgan paused in thought. "No. I would do everything in my power to save the kind father I loved. Like my father from a different past. But that's a moot point, isn't it?"
"If you feel like you have nothing left in this time, then I will send you to that past," Naga told her. "Some time before your father from that past came to this present, but the same timeline."
"If you can do that, I have one final request," Morgan told Naga.
"Name it, and I will decide if I shall grant it."
"I want you to erase my memories. I want you to remove everything but knowledge of father. Please, Naga. Let me live free of this. Let me be happy again."
"I will grant your wish," Naga agreed, voice heavy with regret. "Perhaps the greatest victim in this entire tragedy is you, Morgan. Brace yourself. When you awaken, it will be as a different person."
Everything turned to light, and Morgan fell into it.