Notice: Haphazardly ordered scenes abound in this chapter. Will require a bit of thinking to piece together what really happens to everybody correctly. Fanfic is listed under the "mystery" genre for a reason.


"Garrick, the fire is spreading slower than we anticipated!" The mage shouts, running towards his leader as fast as his robes allow him to. "The citizens have assembled themselves into groups and are drawing water from the underground wells to control the damages caused by the flames! Us mages can't keep up the pressure, and the others are struggling against the town militia that have holed themselves inside the church!"

Garrick plants his boot in an already dead male citizen's stomach, sending him over the side of the bridge and into the shallow river below. He turns around and sneers. "Well we can't have that now, can we?" He glances over his shoulder at a couple of his men, who were busy ransacking a couple of nearby houses. "Oi! One of you twerps not busy?! I've got a real good mission for you. Whoever does this will get to live the good life for the rest of his days!"

Two barbarians and a myrmidon instantly drop whatever valuables they are holding to stand in front of their superior. Garrick laughs at their apparent eagerness and gestures to the west with his axe. "You boys remember that quaint little contraption over by the town entrance, I reckon? The 'pump', or whatever the mayor called it before I ended his sorry life? Whoever figures out how it works and seals off the underground wells first will get the lion's share of today's haul!"

The three nearly trip over themselves and each other as they run, fueled by competition, bloodlust and greed. Garrick belches a short, nasty guffaw at their hasty departure and turns his attention back to the messenger mage. "You! Round up anyone who isn't transporting goods and direct them to the church! We'll slaughter those fools and paint Naga's prayer halls red!"

The mage turns around to go back and do just as he is asked so he can resume helping his fellow mages burn the town to the ground... when movement in one of the alleys catches his eye. Suspicious and wary, he creeps towards the spot in question, his fire tome clutched in his hands just in case.

...There is no one in the alley. There isn't even any possible hiding spots for any enemy to take cover in; there is a small puddle of dirty water on the ground but not much else worth noting. The mage backs away and hurries off, shaking his head. He can't risk losing his wits right now - this is, after all an important mission given to them by Mad King Gangrel himself. If he wanted fame and fortune, he'd need to hold on to his sanity for as long as he can. Which means not letting shadows and tricks of light confuse him.

After spending about five minutes talking to ten of their men, the mage figures that this number (which includes himself) is good enough support for Garrick's siege on the church. He begins his trek across town to the house of worship, zipping in and out of the alleyways and in-between houses to get there faster when he suddenly notices someone crawling on all fours just ahead of him.

A woman? It's definitely a woman. And she even stops moving to look at him blankly over her shoulder, a single arrow sticking out of her cloak pocket. He recognizes the arrow's fletching to be the black ones unique to Plegia.

Why would she have one in her possession...?

The mage immediately assumes that she is an enemy. He prepares his fire tome once more and points his fingers at her-

STAB

"Urrrrghh...!"

-when a killing edge, launched with incredible strength from seemingly out of nowhere, pierces him right through his neck. He collapses instantly, the tome flying out from his grasp.


"So this thing here controls the townspeople's water supply?" The myrmidon asks nobody in particular. "'Seal off the underground wells', he says... but can turning the iron bar here really shut off the water? As simple as that? How does it even work?"

"It isn't our job to question these things! If you don't want to get rich, step aside! Unlike you, I've got a date with all the treasure we plunder from these Ylisseans!" One of the barbarians declares, roughly shoving the younger recruit aside with his arm.

The three bandits had been very eager to please Garrick and be the first one to complete the special mission he'd given them, but when they got to the 'pump' itself the three had no idea how to actually make it work. To be fair, none of them were very good with these new fangled contraptions that were slowly gaining popularity among the poor folk far and wide. Perhaps they should've brought one of the mages with them - those intellectual types would probably figure it out in a snap.

The myrmidon narrows his eyes at the older man. "I won't have your shoving. Do it again, and I'll cut you down where you stand." His hand rests on the hilt of his blade.

"Oh yeah?" The barbarian taunts, shoving the swordsman once more, even harder than earlier.

The two fighters jump at each other, respective weapons already in hand. They never really liked each other to begin with, and they would accept any excuse to kill the other, no matter how petty. Meanwhile, the second barbarian already has both of his hands on the iron bar, and his face is one of pure and fierce concentration. He doesn't really care if the other two killed each other from their squabbles - that just means more of the spoils goes to him!

"Hmmm... I reckon it should be turned to the right..."

He turns the rusty, creaking bar to the right and waits. Nothing seems to happen.

"...Or maybe I should turn it to the left...?"

Behind him, the two brigands continue their heated duel, no longer focused on wealth or glory but on the other's bloody demise. They do not notice their immediate surroundings; each man is completely engrossed in whatever it is they are doing, and they definitely do not take heed of the hooded lady crawling slowly into the settlement and passing their position, pausing in the middle of the wide open dirt road to look at the dueling pair and the man standing at the pump for a very long moment before continuing on her merry way.


In the marketplace, two of three of the Shepherds are engaged in a drawn-out battle against seven bandits.

"Eat this, princeling!"

Chrom nimbly dodges to the left and to the right, just barely managing to avoid both barbarians' wild axe swipes. He jumps back several feet to put distance between him and his opponents, and when he hears the slightest of shuffling right behind him he swings his sword above and around, effectively parrying a third barbarian's surprise attack to his head. A few ways away, Frederick is trying to fend off the other four bandits and regroup with his prince, but his foes smartly keep their distance, keeping up the pressure on the knight so their pals could finish off Chrom. Lissa is missing in action; mere minutes after their arrival in the settlement the Shepherds had ended up in a chaotic skirmish with the brigands which ended up separating the siblings. The royal can only pray that wherever she is, she is safe and sound.

He grimaces and begins another frantic string of blocks, leaps and turns.

Chrom knows he can't keep this up for very long, and he is already starting to feel worn down.

The barbarians' coordinated three-way assault isn't letting up - their eyes are gleaming with ambition. Of course, the one who manages to cut off Chrom's head would become a hero back in Plegia! There is no way they would ever let the other man get all the money or the glory! But they also know that facing off against the royal one-by-one would mean their death, as evidenced by the number of brigands' bodies littered the streets so they have agreed to work together temporarily to protect their weak points while wearing down Chrom.

The prince soon finds himself with his back against the wall of one of the buildings, next to an abandoned fruit stand that is miraculously still untouched by the fire. He knows that if he doesn't find an opening soon, he'll be finished... and didn't they always say that a good offense was the best defense? Chrom decides that he'll need to take the plunge if he wants to help Frederick and find Lissa. He readies Falchion and prepares to leap straight for the advancing brigands, hoping to catch them off guard so he can-

Something hauntingly familiar moves just on the outside of his line of vision, and against his better judgment he turns his gaze in that direction for a better look.

"I-it's her!" He stutters aloud, flabbergasted at what his eyes are showing him: it's the child-like woman they'd found out in the fields some time earlier, crawling on all fours just a few feet away and disappearing around a corner! "What is she doing here?!" He is so distracted by the sight that he doesn't see where he is putting his foot down, and at the very last possible second he unceremoniously slips on a couple of banana peels which had spilled out from a nearby wooden crate of trash during the scuffle.

The barbarian standing in the forefront is already in the process of bringing his axe down upon Chrom's head, but because of Chrom's sudden slip the aim is way off, and he ends up banging the blade against the smooth stone wall with all his might instead. The barbarian promptly drops his weapon, his arms and fingers badly stunned from the impact and he falls backwards, crashing heavily into the other two unsuspecting brigands. Chrom takes advantage of the moment and jumps to his feet, immediately stabbing the first brigand and heavily wounding the other two.

The tables have now turned, and not a moment too soon!

Three minutes later, Chrom and Frederick finally finish off every last bandit in the area.

"Milord, I have heard them talk of laying siege on the local church," the knight informs the royal. "There is a good chance that most of the townspeople are hiding there."

"Then we'll have to head over once we find Lissa."

In Chrom's mind, he figures that he probably imagined seeing the strange lady in the cloak earlier, so he has no need to inform Frederick. Besides, why would she even be here in the first place?

"Halt, brigand! Or die where you stand!" Frederick orders harshly, his silver spear already out and waiting.

Chrom looks up to see a mage, his hat and clothes thoroughly soaked from head to foot. He has his lightning tome in his hands, but he throws it onto the ground angrily. Judging from the way it looks, the prince correctly assumes that the tome itself is also utterly drenched and therefore unusable.

The mage curses. "I am really not getting paid enough for this," he mutters aloud, putting up his hands in the universal sign for surrender. "First some stupid random female holds everybody up, then all of my gear gets damaged by sewer water, and now I'm at the mercy of the prince's cute little vigilante group. Can this day get any worse for me?!"

"I promise you it will be much worse than any of your pitiful experiences if you don't start talking," Frederick says with a cheerful smile, the lance glinting eeriely in the daylight. His hell's angel smile to be exact, Chrom liked to call it.

"Urk! I'll talk, I'll talk!" The mage breaks down all too quickly. "J-just keep that thing away from my throat!"


"Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?!" Lissa gasps aloud.

"Who was that?!"

Lissa grabs the cloaked lady and drags her into her wine barrel, which she had been hiding in. Once she is certain that the brigands are long gone she removes the hand she had clamped over the weird lady's face and hisses, "Why are you here?! It's too dangerous for you! Didn't Chrom tell you to stay put where we left you or something?! What is he thinking?!"

"...?"

"...Then again, you probably don't really understand regular speech all that much, do you?"

The princess climbs out of the barrel first and then helps the mysterious female out as well. "Hey, why are your clothes so dirty?" Lissa wondered aloud. "Did you really crawl to town from all the way where we left you? Sheesh, you're a handful. I don't think I was this naughty when I was younger... or was I?"

To the healer's terror, the child-woman makes a beeline for the north in the fastest crawl she had ever beheld. "Hey, wait! Hold on a second! Where are you going?! We have to stick together or the brigands will get us! We have to find my brother and Frederick as soon as possible! Are you even listening?!"

"You!"

Lissa hears a very disgusting-sounding drawl from a few yards away and freezes on the spot.

"Round up anyone who isn't transporting goods and direct them to the church!" The voice growls. "We'll slaughter those fools and paint Naga's prayer halls red!"

Oh no, Lissa thinks. This is bad - all of the bandits are going to congregate at the church. It's best to stay away for now and find Chrom and Frederick to let them know what's happening. Then we can leave this woman in a safe place and finally take care of those awful-

Something catches Lissa's eye - further down the alleyway is a small puddle of dirty water. It's murky, but she can still see the reflection of the mage that was slowly creeping down the alley towards their hiding spot in the shadows, fire tome in hand. Lissa squeezes her eyes shut and holds her breath, her heart racing a mile a minute. If the mage found her, she would quite literally be toast!

To her relief, he backs off and runs off at last, most likely to do as that first guy ordered him to. Perhaps he was the leader of the brigands...?

"...H-huh? Where did she go?!" Lissa cried, whirling around, searching desperately for her companion.

She has vanished without a trace.

Lissa has half a mind to search for her, but then she glances up. From her vantage point, she can see the bell tower of the cathedral.

I need to warn the people before its too late!


"Nat, the brigands have begun concentrating their attacks on the cathedral! The door isn't going to hold much longer at this rate!" One of the women who are acting as lookouts screamed. "What are we supposed to do now?! If they get inside, we'll be slaughtered without mercy!" The other women, the elderly and the children shudder with every heavy THUMP on wood coming from outside, and they huddle together way at the other end of the house of worship while panicking and crying. At the woman's warning they are even more frightened than ever.

Nat and a couple of the other townsmen, who also make up the town militia have formed a half circle closer to the entrance, whispering their ideas frantically and fiercely to each other.

"Nat, most of our guys were already slain out there. The ten of us can't possibly stand up to the brigands' might alone!" Ritz, the town blacksmith points out nervously. "And if they manage to get inside, they could take our families hostage! Not even my muscles could help us then! We'd be sitting ducks, lined up on the gallery!"

"Not to mention two of us are already wounded..." Diether the grocer mutters sadly, referring to himself and Roland the baker's husband; earlier the pair had been the ones to hold off the myrmidons who tried to give chase to the citizens who were taking refuge inside the church, and both sustained bad cuts on their arms and shoulders. "Nat, I've got a plan, but you might not like it."

"...Let's hear it," Nat allows, clutching his bronze spear. He is the town physician, but he knows that there are times when he must take up arms to protect the people he cares about. But that does not mean that he wants his fellow men to rush headlong into battle. There are some wounds that even he, a doctor, could not heal...

"I'm much worse off than the rest of us, so I volunteer to stay here and hold off those rapscallions for as long as I can while the rest of you escape out the secret passageway behind the altar."

"Y-you can't be serious, good man! They'll skin you alive!" Hammuel the stable hand and the youngest member of town security cuts in, eyes wide with distress. "Think about all your friends! Your wife! Your newborn son, Jeremiah! You can't abandon your life like that!"

"He's right, Diet," Nat adds sternly. "You, me, and everyone in this town are family. And we don't ever leave our family members behind."

"Then what do you propose we do?!" Diether shouts. "We're running out of time doctor, my brothers, and if we don't come up with a plan soon we'll all be sent to the slaughterhouse equally! We can't stay holed up in here forever, either - or have you already forgotten that we can't draw up fresh water anymore? Those blasted bandits probably did something to our network water supply. They want us to suffer in here and watch our town burn to the ground! We don't have time to hesitate anymore!"

The men begin talking over each other, arguing back and forth about sacrifices and their families and unforgivable Plegian dastards.

"EEEEEEEEEK!"

The chorus of female screams splits through the tension in the air like a hot knife through butter. All of the men momentarily stop fighting and turn around to look at the unarmed citizens, who have begun crowding around the offerings altar and conferring frantically with each other. Nat and his militia pals shoulder their way through the crowds to get a look at whatever it is that scared their wives so willy-nilly - and their mouths drop open in shock.

A hooded lady's head is sticking out of the hidden trapdoor behind the altar, a wide and silly-looking grin on her face. Her eyes glance around at everything and everyone, sparkling with unadulterated excitement, and she slowly starts wiggling her way out of the trapdoor and into the church.

Nat's eyebrow twitches.

"What in Naga's name...?"


"Well well well! Look what we've got here, boys!"

The mute woman does not spare the thugs even the tiniest glance, and single-mindedly carries on with her utterly important self-imposed mission: pulling a very pretty, painted decorative stone out from the base of a pillar in the town plaza. It had apparently attracted her attention once she had made it to the burning settlement, and she has been trying to dislodge it ever since. On the ground next to her crouching form is a small pile of pretty stones that greatly resemble the one she is trying to acquire. Nevermind the fact that nearly everything is on fire and citizens are running for their lives, screaming.

"Oy, girlie! Don'tcha Ylissean types pay respect to everyone equally, friend or stranger?" The archer leered. "Now turn around like a good little lamb and lemme see your face!"

"Mgh..."

The woman either does not hear him or chooses to ignore him outright, wrapping both of her dainty hands around the partially loosened stone and yanking with all her might. Her cheeks are slightly flushed from her efforts, and her eyes are squeezed shut in great concentration. Behind her, the brigands slowly become irate from the lack of fear and groveling on the woman's part.

The archer has had enough of this ruse. He nocks an arrow on his bow, aims it right at her head and releases.

Swoop! Thwock!

The arrow zips right by her head and lands on the ground, just a little past the pillar.

"Bwahahahaha! You getting old, chump?!" The myrmidon guffaws. "She isn't even a moving target, and less than eight feet away!"

"S-shut up! I know I was right on the mark!" The archer protests, face reddening from anger and embarrassment. "A little gust of wind saved her, that's all!"

"Stop blaming your failures on the forces of nature and let a real man take care of this," the myrmidon boasts, unsheathing his killing edge and waving it around contemptuously.

"And I'd like you to know that I- BWARGH?!"

The archer was about to retort, only to receive an intense stream of dirty water blast the side of his head from his right. The pressure is so strong, he can almost see stars, and he drops his bow and arrow in the process. He tries to move himself out of harm's way but more and more of the murky greenish fluid erupts from all around him, striking him like heavy punches, clogging his ears and stinging his eyeballs. He is unable to discern where the sewer water is coming from, and eventually he slumps to the paved ground, unconscious.

His two companions, the myrmidon and a mage, dodge the powerful geysers of water as best as they possibly can and glance around the plaza frantically for signs of an ambushing enemy. There are none. The water seems to be spraying right out of a couple of random small holes in the ground, and even from the pillars that encircle the plaza.

"Uwaa...!"

The female pulls out her precious stone at last, falling backwards onto her derriere with a thud. Even more water begins gushing forth from the hole she has created, soaking up the mage from the tip of his hat to the soles of his shoes.

"I don't get paid enough for this. I'm going to meet with our boss at the church." The mage distastefully sweeps his drenched cloak aside and dashes out of the plaza to safety.

The myrmidon gets sprayed right in the eyes, but he can still see the girl crawling away from the scene and into one of the nearby alleyways, his comrade's missed arrow sticking out of her pocket. Like hell was he going to let that wench get away with her life...! He twirls around his killer edge in his fingers until it's positioned like a throwing spear and launches it in the general direction of the girl just as yet another burst of sewer water gets him right at the back of his head.

STAB

"Urrrrghh...!"

He hears the grunt of pain in the distance and smiles to himself, satisfied, thinking that he finally nailed the arrogant little puke before slipping into unconsciousness as well.


It is no use - Lissa has been lurking around the perimeter of the church as stealthily as she could for the past seven minutes but she cannot find a way inside besides the front doors. She could probably rest easy, knowing that the building is well-fortified... but what if an enemy managed to get in? The townspeople would have no way out!

Lissa makes her fifth round behind the church when she spots a familiar figure.

"You!" She whispers loudly, suprised, dashing over to where the hooded lady crouched. She is digging messily through the dirt with both of her hands. Lissa glances around and spotted an arrow, a couple of shiny stones that were the size of Lissa's hand and two tomes: fire and lightning. "Could it be... are you burying your treasure? We really don't have time for this... and just where did you get all this stuff, anyways? Is this what you have been doing this entire time since you vanished on me? Treasure-hunting?" The princess giggles. "Sheesh, you are so carefree!"

The woman makes no reply - Lissa doesn't expect one anymore because she's used to it by now - and continues ferociously digging up the dirt.

...Honestly speaking, the princess feels very glad that the lady seems unaware of what's going on in town. She does not want her new friend to stress out so soon after waking up, and her innocence was contagious - Lissa doesn't remember the last time she ever laughed so hard and so much, even if it was at her brother's expense. The princess may have been joking earlier but now she really does want to take the woman home with them, maybe even have her live in the castle with them! Emmeryn would definitely adore her, Lissa knew.

"...Suppose I'll have to help you, then. Otherwise you'll take up too much time and the brigands could find us here." The princess kneels on the ground and starts digging up dirt as well. At first it grosses her out because of the texture of the soil and the smell of earth wafting up her nose but she eventually learns to tilt her head to one side, take a deep breath through her mouth and then breathe out through her nose.

"By the way, why are your clothes wet? Did you play in a puddle or something- OWW!" Lissa yelps all of a sudden. Her fingers have just knocked against something hard and rough. Further inspection reveals an old, wooden trapdoor. "Oh my gosh..." With a slight tug on the handles, it pops right open, and a musty smells assaults Lissa's nose.

"-Achoo!"

The princess looks up, startled by the noise. Beside her, the cloaked female scrunches up her nose and eyes and sneezes again.

"Hee hee! Even your sneezes are adorable! ...H-huh? Hey, wait, don't just go in there! Wait!"

She ignores Lissa completely, of course, and she soon vanishes into the darkness of the trapdoor. No matter how hard she tries, the royal just can't see her.

"...Now I know what it's like to have a younger sister!"

Taking a deep breath, the tomboy princess climbs down into the trapdoor after her.


"What in Naga's name...?"

The other citizens echo Nat's sentiments, murmuring amongst themselves about the mysterious female who has somehow discovered the church's hidden passageway. Said female is now sitting on the floor next to the trapdoor, looking around with amazement and wonder. It's almost... comical to the doctor. At the very least, she doesn't seem to be hostile. He is about to step forward to assist her to her feet when a voice echoes from within the trapdoor-

"Oof! I suppose secret passageways barely get any chance to be cleaned, being a secret and everthing," a young lady with blonde hair pulled into pigtails remarks, her head popping out of the trapdoor. She glances around at the townspeople and sighs aloud with relief. "I'm glad I made it! Everybody, please hear me out!"

"I think we'll take you more seriously if you climb out of there first little lady," Nat jokes gently, stepping forward and holding out both of his hands for her to take. He easily hauls her right out from the hole and onto her feet. "I believe some introductions are in order before we can continue. My name is Nathaniel, and I'm the town physician," Nat says amiably. He then points out who the members of the town militia are, their wives and children, and just about everybody else. "If I'm not mistaken, you are our exalt's younger sister, Lissa?"

"That's right!" Lissa cheers, waving to the townspeople and earning a chuckle from some of them. "I'm also a member of the Shepherds!"

"The Shepherds?!" One woman cries excitedly. "Does that mean what I think it means?! W-we'll all be saved?!"

The royal's smile falters a bit. "Yes and no. Two other members of the Shepherds are definitely here in town, but right now they are out there fighting the brigands! I ended up getting separated from them during one of the earlier skirmishes, which brings me to the bad news: most of those foul miscreants are on their way to this very church as we speak."

The people gasp, and Nat nods his head grimly. "We had figured as much. Princess Lissa, how quickly will your comrades-in-arms arrive at the church?"

"I am sure they have dealt with many of the bandits by now... they will soon realize that the brigands are gathering around this area."

"I see..." The physician turns around and faces his friends. "Well, everyone? Can we hold our position until the cavalry arrive to save us?"

"You read too many of those war stories, Nat," the man who was introduced as Diether points out. "But I suppose we could come up with a plan or two to keep those damned Plegian dastards busy. Right, boys?!"

"AYE!" The other men shout as one.

Nat is about to walk off with his fellow men when Lissa discreetly tugs at the sleeve of his shirt. "Um, Doctor, could I ask you a favor?"

"What is it?"

"It's- it's about my friend..." Lissa points at the cloaked woman, who has made herself comfortable on the floor and is fiddling with her stones and the arrow with rapt attention, completely oblivious to the action and tension all around her. "She... well, the truth is the Shepherds and I found her all alone, out in the fields... and- and while I'm not much of a healer yet, I believe she may have a mental illness. Could you take a look at her, Doctor Nathaniel?"

"Please, call me Nat. Everybody does. And of course I'll take a look at her - right now, if you want."

"Really?!" Lissa hops up and down with delight. "Thank you, oh thank you so much!"

The physician approaches the mysterious stranger carefully and kneels in front of her, catching her attention. "Hello, miss. Your friend, the princess Lissa would like me to give you a little check-up. May I?"

"..."

"Hmmm..." Nat strokes his chin thoughtfully at the woman's blank yet cheerful eyes, her physical form and demeanor, and her lack of response to his inquiry before turning back to Lissa, who has been watching the entire time. "If this is indeed a mental illness plaguing the young miss, then I'm afraid I do not have the proper instruments at hand to confirm if it is there... could you give me a list of her visible symptoms?"

Lissa recounts the events that have happened with her brother on their way to the town. Once she finishes, the doctor nods his head once and says, "As I have told you before, I lack the proper instruments to give you a proper diagnosis but as fellow healers, let me share with you my thoughts instead."

"Please, doctor!"

"You say that you found her collapsed in the fields, unconscious. Correct? Then perhaps she may have recently survived a very traumatic event, which caused her mind to regress to that of a child. Think of it as her body's self-defense mechanism of sorts."

Lissa's face goes pale. "So... she..."

"If my hypothesis is right on track, then... whatever happened to her, she could not handle it and thus her mind protects her by 'turning back the clock' to a time she did not have any fears." Nat shakes his head and looks at the strange woman with a bit of pity. "I recommend that she stay in this town to recover... the countryside will do wonders for her health, and one day she may even heal, if not completely then at least enough to live independently."

Lissa looks at the female sadly. The physician's recommendation was sound.

...The princess would be lonely, but perhaps leaving the hooded lady here to recover really is the best option for her.