Oh neat, my first Fire Emblem story! Hello FE archive!
This is a short story on a potential origin for Morgan, an alternate universe (AU) taking place before the events of Fire Emblem: Awakening. It seemed like a cool idea, and I wanted to post a story in time for when Fire Emblem: Fates was released internationally. Maybe this kind of plot has been done before, but maybe not quite like this.
It might be tricky, since I used italics as voices from memory, but I'll let you guys judge that. Enjoy reading!
...
Bring the blade back, and then forward again.
My eyes snapped open and I gasped for breath. Air rushed into my throat and out again. I scrambled for the table and clawed for the near empty jug of water that I left there the night before. It was warm, too much so, but as I swallowed, it reminded me that I was still alive.
Brushing my hair back, I shook my head and stood up from the creaky bed. Finding one was nothing short of a miracle; I thought they had torn apart every house from the top down.
On the floor, my boots waited as I picked them up. I slid them on first, and then grabbed my black and gold cloak that hung off of a chair by the desk. Resting atop the desk itself were a green tome and a regal sword.
Placing the tome into the biggest pocket inside of my coat, and sheathing the sword along my belt, I stumbled past the broken wardrobe to the dented door. I waited before I pressed my head against it, listening carefully.
Nothing. Good.
Cautiously, I pulled it open, hand gripping the hilt of the blade. No one waited outside for me, as was the standard these days. My stomach growled as my hand hovered over the cracked and splintered railing along the hall, leading to the stairs.
Down below, I only spent time in the main room, with the table that was cut in half probably ages ago. I studied the place through one last check, hoping to find anything that the previous owners might have left behind. Under the chairs, behind the empty bookshelves, across the bloodied counters, and beneath the shredded rugs, I found the same answer that I typically received from these places:
Nothing. Bad.
Just before I marched out the unhinged door outside, I stopped and stepped back. A picture hung near the door, one that I hadn't noticed before. Frame cracked, ready to fall at some point, and shattered mostly, it still managed to hang.
And looking over the picture, I saw a portrait of the family. A man with dark hair and eyes, standing with his chest out, and a wide grin resting on his face, standing along the left side. The woman that was most likely his wife with her brighter hair tied back, and gracefully brought down past her soft smile and across her right shoulder, reflecting her position. Two children, one bright haired boy and one dark haired girl, arms wrapped around one another's backs and joyful beams across their faces, took up the space between the couple. A simple family perpetually captured together, from a distant, peaceful era that I might find foreign.
Gods, I would kill for that.
Once more, I waited and checked outside for sudden movement or a sound. Still nothing. Shoving the door open, I strode from the vacant house and into the open world.
The sky was dark indigo, same as it's been for about as long as I can remember. I don't remember what the sun looks like, if I ever saw it. The trees had little to no leaves, mostly brown and dead themselves. City streets were cracked, as the earth was torn open, caved in. The house I left was mostly similar to the others around me: broken doors, if they were still on the house, shattered windows, bricks missing from where they were placed, and roofs that were half-ripped from the tops. Glancing around, I slinked forward cautiously.
Not another soul around for miles, if anyone was left.
And yet, I refused to let my guard down. They would appear at any second, the soulless. The damned creatures that inhabited the bodies of those that lived recently or ages ago. The Risen.
Again, my stomach growled as I picked up my pace, navigating deftly across the barren streets. Somewhere, there must be food left. It's been more than a day since I've eaten, but I'm already sick of waiting. Anything edible that I could find, I'd happily shove down my throat.
Travel eventually led me to the merchant square of the city. Glancing over the shops, I searched for something to eat within one of them. For a moment, though, my eyes caught sight of a bookstore, and I found myself climbing through the broken window space, the door blocked by heavy debris.
Inside, the books were scattered about, with pages and whole covers of texts torn clean from their bindings. Shreds of paper had rained down across the building, and bookshelves had collapsed.
Father would hate to see it in such a state. He was a book fanatic, and loved to read anything he could get his hands on. His friends respected him for that, and enjoyed his heavy interests in buzzing through all sorts of texts and scrolls. Naturally, he passed that enthusiasm down to me, but I feel that he'd still outclass me in his interests.
A tear slid from my eye and I hastily wiped at it. Another came, and I angrily brushed it away.
"Stop, I've been over this," I brokenly whispered to myself, and was surprised at the hoarseness in my voice. "He's gone, and not coming back. Mother's been gone for years. I'm alone. So stop the tears. They mean nothing."
My eyes were burning, water managed to form in them, but nothing else spilled out.
Controlling my breathing, I turned away to leave the store when I heard something creak. Spinning around, I whipped out the sword and glared around the inside.
Why were they still here? There wasn't anything left to this place.
Stepping carefully around the bookshelves, I made my way toward the back room, where I heard the creaky floorboard. Pausing, I listened and heard another. Then, a long, dragging noise filled the air.
Gods, was this it?
No. I wouldn't die here. Not today, not yet.
Clenched teeth and a tightened grip, I raced further into the store and raised my blade as I sped into the opening of the back room. Sure, I could have run. And maybe I should have. But as weak as I was, I needed this.
They had to know that I wouldn't die running.
There was a flash and I had to shield my eyes for a moment, lifting my free arm over them. I squinted past my sleeve, gazing at the light in the back room. It came from a figure before me, and I pointed my blade forward.
"What are you?" Another voice, raspy male. Weak, not unlike my own, but…filled with astonishment. Emotion.
Impossible.
The light faded enough, or perhaps my eyes adjusted, and I lowered my arm. "You'll die here, Risen."
"Wait, Risen?" He shook his head. "Are you…fighting them too?"
"Of course I am," I snapped. "Only a fool or a coward would do anything otherwise."
"Sometimes, it's smarter to run." He lowered his head and let the light die out. "But you're right, fighting tends to be the safest bet in a lot of situations with them."
Another creak rang out, this time from the front of the store. We both jumped and whirled around.
"Right now, I believe we just lost the opportunity to actually choose," I muttered. "What do you have with you?"
"Tome and sword. You?"
"Same." Interesting. "Ready to fight? It's unlikely that we'll run into another human."
"Yes, I would suspect it'll be Risen this time." He exhaled heavily. "Well, ladies first."
Snorting, I strode forward and back to the front of the bookstore. Another man was inside now, though his skin was a sickly purple tint, and his eyes shined red. Blood stained his unclothed chest. Teeth were missing in his mouth and he hissed as he spotted us.
Not a man. A monster.
Lifting his axe, the barbaric creature leapt forward and cleaved down at me. I lifted the blade to block his attack, and then swung my sword around, slicing him.
"Make way!"
His voice rang next to mine as a burst of fire flew forward. My companion incinerated the remains of the creature and it crashed against the bookshelf along the side.
Predictably, the whole place began to catch fire. I grabbed him and raced for the front of the store. Dropping his arm, I dove across the window gap and back into the streets. He leapt out not long after, though I heard some glass shards slip out with him.
"You ok?"
"Uh, I should be asking you that." I chuckled. "You nick yourself on any glass?"
"Me? Nope, I'm fine."
We turned to face each other, and my mouth parted. It was like staring into a mirror. He wore a black coat with gold and purple symbols and trimmings decorating it. White clothes were ruffled beneath it, and brown boots below. His hair was a grayish white color, almost identical to mine. Almost like Father's, though styled differently, again similar to me.
"Who…who are you?" I blinked and continued staring at him. My grip around my sword tightened a bit. It had to be an illusion…no one in the world looked like my father and I.
"I'm Morgen." I shook my head and lifted the blade. "What the…? What's wrong with that name?"
"It's impossible, that's what's wrong," I snapped. "You look way too similar to me, and your name is identical to mine? No chance you're real."
"What?"
"My name is Morgan. And I'm the daughter of the legendary tactician, Robin of the Ylissean Shepherds."
"No, that can't be," he murmured. "My mother is Robyn, of the Ylissean Shepherds too."
"Mother?" My head jerked back and I shook it, "No, Robin is my father."
"Um…is it possible that we have the same name and that our parents have the same names as well?"
"That doesn't make any sense. What, do they share the same exact history outside of gender differences?" I shook my head. "Besides, they can't both be involved with the Shepherds without mentioning or acknowledging someone that is basically an opposite sex doppelganger."
"True, that would be a fun detail that they wouldn't pass up sharing," agreed my double. "But I really wouldn't know what else to tell you. I've been Morgen for my whole life, and my mother has always been Robyn."
"The same applies for me." I sighed. "I guess we'll just have to accept that the two of us have very similar backgrounds, unless it turns out one of us is lying." Which, of course, it would be him; there was no way that I had grown up my whole life as some strange, opposite gendered clone of another Morgan.
"Fair enough." He nodded, and then glanced around the vacant cityscape, ignoring the smoke that billowed from the bookstore. "Well, where do we go from here?"
"In all honesty, finding another living being wasn't part of my daily agenda," I admitted. "So, I…"
"You're not really sure what you're doing either, are you?"
"That's not true!"
"Surviving is one thing," he interrupted my forming argument. "Actually having a strategy to get through this…well, whatever we call it now. Apocalypse? Probably. Anyway, truly getting past this requires more than day-to-day survival tactics."
"Brilliant," I snapped. "And what did you come up with in the 'apocalypse survival' plan of yours?"
"Nothing, which is why I'm still roaming an empty city," he confessed. "Same as you."
He was right, and I realized that as I grinded my teeth. Looking past his crestfallen face and around the broken city, I searched for an answer to what we were still doing here. It was the same as always: there was nothing.
"What were you looking for in that store, anyway?" I whipped back around to him.
"Before you showed up, I had just given up on searching through history texts on the Risen," explained Morgen. "It's all the same, in what little was recorded prior to everything going south: they seemingly appeared from the sky, brought on by supposedly a god of death. After the Ylissean Exalt was killed, everything went downhill quickly from there." He shrugged, and shook his head. "First, the royal line, and then the Ylissean Shepherds. As they fell, the Risen dominated the entire country. At least…that's all that was written so far."
"So, you learned nothing new."
"Basically." He combed his hands through his hair and sighed. "There was one text that mentioned something that could stop the Risen, called the Awakening. It has the one that performed it capable of channeling Naga's power in order to combat them and the Fell Dragon that summoned them."
"That would be useful," I realized, "if we were in any possible condition to fight back."
"Yeah, and we would at least need to find somewhere with an altar to perform it," noted Morgen. "Plus, we need to find the holiest place in the land, and I doubt that it's anywhere near here, right?"
"Maybe once, but definitely not now." I shrugged and glanced to a large cathedral in the distance. "…Still…I wonder if…"
"Are you seriously suggesting that you think they might have been here?" I turned to him as he shook his head. "The Awakening? Performed here?"
"Considering that we haven't been able to go much further, I don't think that we should rule out what could be our only option." I shrugged again. "Besides, maybe there are resources in there. Who knows?"
"Sounds desperate to me," he murmured. "But…I could use a place to clear my thoughts." Sighing, he nodded. "Ok, let's go. Unless you want to object to working with me."
Hesitating for a moment, I smirked. "Nope. Let's go."
We made our way through the broken city streets, carefully leaning against building corners to check our path before continuing.
Passing over a bridge to the next road, two clawed hands reached from the earth ahead of us. One of the Risen pulled itself up from the ground and groaned, with two glowing red eyes beneath the sack on its head.
My hands reached for my blade, but I was interrupted by: "I've got this!"
Turning, I watched as Morgen thrust his hand forward and a burst of flames launched from his red tome and into the Revenant. It screeched and sank backwards as the fire crackled.
Leaping forward, I cleaved down with my sword, slicing it to ensure that the monster was finished.
More groaning sounded above Morgen's applause, and we whirled around to spot a two more Revenants behind us. Tightening my grip, I pulled back, but a hand clasped my shoulder.
"It's no good," insisted Morgen. "We'll only have more to deal with. Let's try to lose them."
"How?"
"When I tell you, run."
He flipped through his tome and sighed. Staring closely at the book, I noticed the pages were torn, with some slipping from the binding.
Concentrating, Morgen aimed at the Risen. "Checkmate!"
One heavy burst of fire rocketed from him and around the approaching monsters. As the spell's glow faded from the tome, the pages fell as the tome itself ripped in half.
"Now, Morgan! Go!"
Pivoting around, we raced down the road and ran for the cathedral. There were a few more groans from the trees near us, but I didn't bother taking a second to observe them. My feet trampled the dirt road, and dusty clouds barely lifted as I blazed past them.
The ruined church was directly ahead, with just a few shattered stain glass windows. Unsure if the doors would be open, I charged ahead and rammed into them, knocking them open. Skidding against the ground, I flipped over and watched as Morgen shut the doors behind me.
"Ha. How…about that?"
He panted and crouched down, still trying to catch his breath. I heaved and realized that I was short on air myself.
"Not…bad." I brushed strands of my hair back from eyes. "So…we're here."
"Yeah. Let's…check things out."
Nodding, I pushed up a bit from the ground, and he lifted his arm forward. Taking it, he pulled me up from the floor. Together, we turned and entered the next set of doors.
Inside of the cathedral, I gazed around at the cracked columns and torn pews. Exchanging an unnerved glance to Morgen, we continued our way in.
Nothing seemed to have been left in tact here. Statues along the far sides of the church were shattered against the walls or floor. Books were shredded and scattered across the pews, with some pages flowing out as we strolled past. Cracked tiles barely filled the space between the isles. I could barely make out a smashed stain glass depiction of the Divine Dragon, Naga.
"Well," Morgen broke the silence. "I'd ask if there was anywhere left that was sacred, but we both already know the answer is that there isn't, so…what now?"
"Let's check the altar." I pointed all the way down the cathedral, to the far end. "Maybe there's something that someone left behind."
"Such as…?"
"Look, I'm just trying to be a little optimistic," I snapped. "Can we just check, or do you have another idea yet?"
"No. Sorry, I didn't…let's go."
Further in we walked, working our way to the white altar on the bema ahead. Halfway there, however, I heard groaning.
"No," griped Morgen, "no, not here."
"Let's be honest." I pulled out my sword. "As soon as we came in, we knew."
"I was hoping they had just ravaged it and left."
"If only we were so lucky."
Standing back to back with him, we watched as the Risen rose from the far pews and the ground around the nave and aisles. Glancing at my blade, I noticed it was duller and a bit dented, chipped even. Inhaling, I held my breath for a moment, knowing that this would be my last time using it.
A groan sounded directly ahead as a Risen Fighter crawled from the pew nearby. Exhaling, I recalled my father's words to me:
Bring the blade back, and then forward again.
Driving the sword back, I stabbed forward. With a hiss and a growl, it fell to the ground. Another Risen, this one a Knight with torn armor, stepped into his place.
Breathing in and out again, I drove the blade forward, slicing past his armor. He groaned and stumbled back, tripping and falling down.
"Have another!"
A crash of lightning struck down against the fallen knight and it yelped out before stopping. I glanced back as Morgen twirled a crooked sword, with sparks that danced around the blade.
"Just as planned," I laughed.
"But of course!"
A Risen Mage appeared behind him, flipping open a tome. Glaring, I quickly withdrew my green tome and shoved Morgen aside. A burst of fire rushed past us, blasting into another Revenant behind us.
"Over here!"
A rush of wind blew from the tome and my arm, crashing into the monster. Quickly, I followed up on it, attacking with another gust of wind. He growled out once before falling to the ground.
Morgen grinned at me. "You tipped the scale!"
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "You even use the same cheesy lines I do."
We spun around and fought off more Risen, working a steady rhythm between slashing swords and slinging spells. Though we knocked a fair number down, I watched Morgen wince as an arrow grazed his shoulder.
A sharp pain started from my leg and I yelled. Slicing down, I cut a Revenant back, and watched it drop away from me. I checked my leg, looking for the claw marks. My pants were torn, and there was a slight scrape, but no blood yet. Good.
After we took down the Risen surrounding us directly, we advanced toward the altar. There had to be something there that we could use. This trip couldn't be for nothing. We need something from this world, some kind of hope…
My heart raced as another Risen Warrior cleaved down at axe at me. I blocked with my sword and heard it crack.
"Once more…"
Narrowing my eyes, I focused on the Risen. I brought the blade back.
"This ends here!"
Striking forward, I slashed with the best precision that I could manage, and packing all of the force that I could behind it. It growled and hissed as it flew back and fell to the ground.
Lifting the hilt, I stared at the broken end of my sword, with most of the blade gone. Tossing it aside, I whipped out my tome as I backed to Morgen again, and we stepped up along the bema. Two stronger Revenants, the Entombed, appeared on either side of us.
"You ready?"
"I've got your back."
Switching around, we aimed at our targets. The pages flipped as the air picked up around my book. Sparks crackled from his sword.
Together, we shouted, "Time to even the odds!"
A rush of air flew out and blasted one Entombed away. I listened as the lightning crashed and struck the other down.
Facing back out to the cathedral, we panted and watched as more Risen crawled out and appeared. I shook my head and heaved.
"There are…too many…it's hopeless for us…"
"Hang on," Morgen assured through his pants. "We can…still…manage."
"I don't…know…"
"Trust me…we have to," he tried again, and lifted the blade. "You helped…me get this far. And…I'm not quitting…not yet."
Perhaps for what might be my last time, I turned and exchanged expressions with Morgen. Mine, with my mouth open, eyes lowered, exhausted. His face practically mirrored mine, but with a little more sharpness to his eyes. Determination.
"If you're still in this," I inhaled and exhaled, "then so am I." He smiled as I nodded. "I'm with you!"
"Good." He aimed his arm as his blade charged. I lifted my tome and flipped through it. "Now strike!"
Before either of us could attack, a burst of light and darkness launched past us, striking down one Risen, then another, and several more after. I blinked and shook my head in disbelief.
How…?
Quickly, I turned around with Morgen and we checked behind us. Someone in a dark cloak stood before the altar, with a bright blue book resting on top of it, and a small, shining jewel beside it. The figure flipped through a purple tome, and I studied the black cloak. Golding trimmings, and purple designs adorned it. Was it…similar to mine, ours?
Raising a hand, the hooded figure flipped quickly through the dark tome. Thrusting a hand forward, I faltered back and raised my weapon.
Before I could even do anything, a bright light flashed out, and I shielded my eyes. Peeking past my arm, the light faded into a purple cloud. It flooded the world around me, and I spun around to Morgen, only to find that he was coated in a violet vortex of his own.
A white light shimmered above us and I glanced up at it, nearly blinding myself from it. Turning back down, my legs became light, and it was as if the floor beneath me had vanished. Some kind of a heavy force pulled me toward the light, and my heart pounded. My scream was lodged in my throat, and I was unable to yell out in my panic.
Looking at Morgen once more, I noticed that he was further up toward the light. His hair lit up and started to change its color just before he vanished from my sight entirely.
Strands of my hair drooped past my face, and I watched as my hair lit up as well. Before I could identify the color change, the light burst from above me and enveloped the world around me.
"Morgan, let's train together. I want to see how you adapt to my strategies."
That voice…
"Morgan…!"
My eyes snapped open and I gasped for breath. Above me, there was a bright blue sky, with white fluffy puffs. Clouds. Around me, there was a lot of green. Grass.
Pushing myself up, I looked around, as birds sang in the distance. Trees. Bushes. A gentle…breeze brushed past me, and my hair flowed back from the wind.
"Wh-where am I? How'd I end up here?"
Turning, I spotted blue architecture in the distance, where the green seemed to disappear. Buildings…? Ruins. I shook my head and grasped it.
Glancing down, I stared at my torn clothing, and started forward, hoping to find better equipment for myself.
Wait. Find…Father…I have to find him. I have to find my Father.
Gazing at the ruins in the distance, I nodded. That's the first place to go.
...
And so the journey has just begun! Well, for Morgan, anyway.
So, I thought it was cool to keep it ambiguous as to which Morgan was the star of the story in the beginning. As I continued writing, though, I thought it would be cooler and crazier if both Morgans were included somehow. So, with a simple name change to Man-Morgan ("Morgen") and Fem-Robin ("Robyn"), I gave it my best shot. And, obviously, both kids had their hair based on default Robin's hair color until the end, to keep it open as to who the other parent was.
Now, for the idea behind it, I was wondering about how characters and game text sometimes mentioned that Morgan could be from an alternate timeline from the other children. It got me thinking about how s/he could have been from an apocalyptic world alone, and so I went for it. As for there being 2 Morgans, I left it open to how they could co-exist. Did multiple save files converge? Perhaps Naga or Grima send one over through the Outrealms? Whatever works!
This story is actually a bit different from some of my usual works, since I started with a more atmospheric approach. Because end of the world scenario, lol. There's also the genre change-up, so that too. Magic and medieval-ish stuff, though, I'm fairly used to. Oh, but it was different to not break up the story where line breaks could have been used. I explicitly attempted to make doable transitions that didn't absolutely require a break, which works smoothly here, but can feel like a rough transition change when you're reading the main story, and suddenly, line. Hopefully, that worked out.
Oh, if you didn't understand the italic lines used, those were basically Morgan remembering Robin's "words of wisdom" to her. I think it's established by the end of the story, but if not, here's the explanation. It fit in with how Morgan looks up to and learns a lot from Robin, given their in-game information. Each Morgan deviated from their usual personalities, however, given the situation.
Beyond that, I mostly tried to mix storytelling with the play style from Awakening. Weapons break after use (I didn't get the exact counts right, because some take too long for a one-shot), critical hits are used when a character needs it, and a little dual support was pretty cool to throw in. Also, I did carry some lines over from the characters in-game dialogue, such as both Morgans' dual support lines, critical hits, and at least one line from Robin's dialogue with Morgan. And the set up that leaves Morgan by the ruins at the end, alluding to the "Ruins of Time" from Morgan's Paralogue, "Disowned by Time" (or the title of the same name in the European version).
The tricky part was probably handling enemy descriptions, because despite giving Morgan an analytic eye, she probably wouldn't want to take much time observing each individual enemy before one or the other attacked. By the end, I relied on their names from the game's classes, so hopefully that worked out fine.
As for the weapons, they went unnamed in the story for just a bit more flexibility, but if you're curious, Morgan used Alm's Blade and Celica's Gale, while Morgen used the Levin Sword and Arcfire, though the last one probably could have been Bolganone or Elfire as well. Originally, I wanted Morgen to use Alm's Blade while Morgan would use Goetia, to match their artwork depictions, but the latter wouldn't make sense, and I did want the Levin Sword used as a nod to Smash Robin's signature blade. They were used prior to this story, hence the breaking.
Wow, geez, that's a lot of author's notes after the story. Sorry about that, and hopefully that doesn't detract too much. Anyway, if you can, feedback would be super helpful, even if this is just a one-shot. A message or review for the story would be great, and I'd really appreciate it. If there are any addition questions, I can answer them, as well as learn from other comments or criticisms.
With that, I believe that's all from me. So, thank you for reading!