She pulled the wyvern's reins, coming to a stop, and looked around. If she had correct information, they should be approaching and unexpectedly entering into a pincer trap. She snapped her fingers, summoning the Risen.

Summoning circles appeared on the ground. From those circles, the Risen appeared, flailing around wildly. She snapped her fingers again, and they straightened in an instant. They turned their attention to the east.

She saw him. In yellow, his color, there he stood. She winced and pulled her hood down further, ignoring her weak sniffle. Owain…

Why did he leave her master, their father? Why did he abandon his kid sister and stayed with their friends? Did they matter more than her? She felt her eyes starting to water again, her anger rising in her gut. Her jealousy.

Angrily, she snapped her fingers, watching as the Risen made their way over to her brother and friends. The Risen will take care of them. All they were good for, after all. She closed her eyes, the tears still prying her eyelids to escape. If he forgot how much he meant to her, she would do the same. She would see the world around them burn if she could not have him with her.

She turned her attention back from her thoughts to them, and saw how the Risen drew closer. They fended the Risen off fairly well, given their situation. Brady did not even have a weapon, least of all a staff. She watched as Brady and Yarne attempted to escape. They crossed the bridge, only to stop as the Risen to the south approached. They retreated to the center of the bridge. She watched Owain and Inigo slowly crossing the bridge, back-to-back, only to run into Brady and Yarne. They were all breathing heavily, tired from the continued onslaught and restless running. They were trapped on the bridge. She knew it grew closer to their defeat. The Risen on both sides of them started wobbling onto the bridge.

And yet… She could not look at Owain once the Risen overcame him. The way they tore into his leg. The way they cut into his arm. The way the blood began flowing out of his chest. As many Risen as possible crammed onto the bridge, hacking and slashing at them. Owain dropped his sword after a Risen cut into his hand. His gaze turned toward her, and she swore that he stared straight at her. She gasped lightly. Time became distorted as she saw his face, his shocked, sorrowful, apologetic, loving, caring face, as he took a sharp blow to the shoulder.

And then, as fast as the bolt of lightning that struck a nearby tree, it was over. The bridge gave way and fell into the ravine below. Another gasp escaped her lips, chills ran down her spine, as she heard the quartet's blood curling screams as they fell to their death. The sudden realization hit her like riding into a stone wall.

She bit her hand to keep herself from screaming as tears flowed down her cheeks. She began to taste blood. She bit harder than she thought she would have. She became paralyzed in a sudden burst of despair. She knew it had to come, and yet… She had been completely unprepared for it. Why did she not steel herself? Why must she be so weak? Why did she not try to convince him to stop his foolishness? If only her brother had stayed and helped her, helped their master, their father… Then maybe he would not have gotten into this situation. Maybe he would still be alive. They could have been happy together.

Her arms fell to her sides, dangling. She threw her head back, her hood falling off. The rain mixed with her tears. She wailed in the sky, unable to maintain her silence any longer.

That was it. She did it. It was done indirectly. But she did it. She killed them. They were dead. Her friends. Her brother.

Dead.

xox-xox-xox-xox-xox-xox-xox-

Morgan woke with the sunlight shining in her face. She squinted, rubbing her eyes. She shivered, yet she could not remember why. She remembered having a dream, but not the content. She did not know how to feel. On one hand, it could have been related to her memory. Yet, on the other, the supposed dream unnerved her slightly. She sighed, shaking her head. Best to just leave it as an unrelated nightmare.

She sat up and turned her head, giggling lightly. She spotted Owain snoring, his appendages hanging off on all sides of the bed. His blanket sat partially on the floor. She smiled. Leave it to her brother to twitch in every way possible. She hopped out of bed and walked over to Owain. She had the most irresistible urge to hold his nose. Her hand hovered over his nose when he suddenly shot up. Startled, she fell backward, landing on her backside.

"M-Morgan?! Are you alright? What are you doing by my bedside?" Owain said with a yawn, rubbing his eyes. "I was having this dream when I suddenly felt this presence and woke up."

Morgan giggled weakly. "Oh, I was… going to wake you up!" She said with a smile, rising to her feet. "Would you like to get some breakfast with me? Or should we wait for Mother and Father first?"

Owain propped himself with his pillows, leaning back. "It would be best to wait, as Father may want to do a bit of morning training before breakfast."

Morgan smiled widely, her mouth opening and eyes closing. "Oh! That's right! I forgot you two spar in the mornings!" She sat next to him on his bed. "So you were having this dream, huh? I was having this weird dream too, but I can't remember any of it. Kinda funny, huh?"

Owain snickered lightly. "Yeah, no kidding. I was having this dream where I heroically dove into a ravine to save someone who had fallen down, and led them to shore on the bottom." He saw Morgan frown. "Uh, Morgan, something wrong?"

"I don't know. It must have been something about my dream and yours being similar, but I really don't know. I can't make out any of it, just that it sent shivers down my spine."

Owain scoffed. "Well, if it was a dream like mine, you were obviously playing the hero! So there's no need to worry. Besides, even at best, it was an unrelated nightmare."

Morgan shook her head. "Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks, Owain!" She said, turning toward one of her tomes. A grin appeared on her face. "So brother," she said, grabbing one of her tomes, "want to help me regain some memories?"

Owain sighed and slid down his pile of pillows, covering his head with his blanket. "Good night, Morgan…"

I was going to avoid it, but this probably deserves some explanation.

I was talking to someone about Awakening, and how I've constantly played Future Past 2. Knowing this background, I was thinking that maybe Morgan is from the bad timeline, or at least a bad timeline, where she witnessed her brother (I tend to marry Lissa all the time, y'see.) Owain die or come really close to it, and the whole thing caused her to repress the memory, unintentionally causing the amnesia or something (Which doesn't make sense, I know). Well, going along with that, this happened.

This will be a series of semi-dark fics. Whenever I get around to it.