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One

Conflict's Beginnings

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"Magic is a skill. Some call it an art." Nykolai's voice was soft and gentle, but he spoke with a conviction, enrapturing the six-year-old that made up his audience. The two stood in the training yard in the Ylisstol Palace's courtyard, which was empty save for them. The midmorning sun shone bright down one them, reflecting off of the many windows of the palace.

At the child's nod of understanding, Nykolai continued, facing the training dummy several yards away. "You must focus your mind on your magic, drawing from the inner power. Many mages use a quick chant or spell to draw the power up. Only when you've grabbed hold of it can you then focus on your adversary."

"Adver…what?"

"Adversary." Nykolai turned his attention back to the child. "Your enemy, opponent. The person you're fighting."

"Oh. Uncle Ricken doesn't use a chant."

"That's because he's really good at it."

"Better than you or Mommy?"

"Yes. Much better."

The child nodded and looked ready to continue learning, her questions over for the moment. Nykolai smiled and continued his lesson. "Once you've focused on your opponent, you can release the power you gathered and, presto! Magic!" He waved his arms for emphasis.

The girl giggled. "Show me?"

Nykolai grinned and took a breath, centering himself. He quickly chanted the words to a simple wind spell, and finished with a single word. "Wind!" From his hand, outstretched toward the training dummy, came a small burst of wind, shooting across the gap between him and the target, which rattled ferociously.

The girl clapped. "Can I try, Daddy?"

"Sure." Nykolai knelt down next to his daughter. "Take a nice, deep breath and let it out slowly." Mor nodded and did as she was told. "Try to focus on your power. If feels...sort of like that buzz you get when you eat a lot of sugar." Mor nodded again, her eyebrows scrunched up in concentration.

A few minutes later, her eyes widened in surprise. "Feel it?" her father asked. She nodded. "Prepare to direct your spell by using your arm." Mor raised her right arm, pointing her hand toward the training dummy. "I'll give you the chant, so just repeat after me." Slowly Nykolai spoke the words of the simple wind spell, breaking it into easier segments for his daughter to repeat. "Now finish it off."

"Wind!" A small gust sped from the little girl's outstretched hand, hitting the base of the training dummy. "I did it!" she exclaimed.

"You did! Good job, Mor!"

The girl laughed. "Can I try again?"

"Go right ahead. Do you need the chant again?"

Mor nodded and they began practicing. After four or five repetitions, Mor had managed to get the majority of the chant memorized. By the tenth, she had the whole spell down. Her aim, however was still a little low. "Aim a little higher, Mor. Right where the chest would be if the training dummy were a real person."

Mor nodded and tried again. Nykolai sat back on the grass, watching his daughter practice, a soft smile on his face. He had seen her grow from a toddler into the smart child she was today. She showed all the signs of becoming as great as her older self, Morgan. He only wished he could have been there for her from the day she was born. But he had done something stupid, according to his wife, Lucina.

He had sacrificed himself to kill Grima, just days before Lucina found out she was two months with child. The decision to sacrifice himself had torn at his heart, but he knew he had done the right thing in the end: Grima was dead for good. And because of that, he was trying to get over his regret, and had been since he returned four years ago.

"Nyk!"

Nykolai turned and saw Lucina walking toward him and Mor. Nykolai grinned and stood. Mor bounced happily in place. "Mommy! Mommy, I can do magic! Wanna see?"

Lucina stopped next to her husband. "Sure, sweetie," she replied with a grin.

Mor focused on the training dummy, recited the chant, and sent a whirl of wind across the ground.

"Well done!" Lucina praised. "You're a natural, like your sister." Mor beamed with the praise. "Keep practicing, okay? I need to talk with your father for a few moments." Mor nodded and continued. Lucina and Nykolai moved a short distance away.

"How are you feeling, Luce?" Nykolai asked before she could say anything.

Lucina made a face at her husband's query. "Better."

"Did you eat?"

Lucina rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Yes, Nyk, I did. Don't worry, I have gone through this before." She looked pointedly at Mor.

Nykolai nodded, following her gaze to their daughter, who was still practicing, getting slowly better and better. Nykolai turned back to his wife, one hand resting on her stomach. "And this time, I'll be here."

"You better be. Let's not have Mor's situation repeat." She sighed and shook her head, changing the subject. "The Shepherds are back."

"Oh, good. Any casualties?"

"Father broke his arm, and Inigo got hit on the head pretty bad. Inigo's resting, and Father's arm is pretty much healed, thanks to Maribelle."

Nykolai sighed, running a hand through his shaggy mauve-colored hair. Through his four years of return, the number of Risen attacks had not diminished since the undead monsters first appeared in Ylisse nine years ago, following Lucina from the future. Nykolai, Morgan, and a few other Shepherds tried to find the source, but they always came up at a dead end. Instead Lucina's father, Chrom, kept a small standing army to deal with the pests in addition to the Shepherds who were still actively defending their country.

It had gotten so bad that the active Shepherds were split into two groups, each taking turns to deal with each attack they could. Having only a limited number of tacticians, Morgan and Nykolai were taking turns going out to fight the Shepherds. Lucina, too, hadn't gone out with her father's group the previous day, but she was a special case. She was with child once more, and Nykolai had begged her to rest. Eventually, Lucina had caved in, but she still was very active otherwise.

"Father has called a meeting to discuss the situation; he wants us there."

"When?"

"As soon as possible."

Nykolai sighed again. "Okay. Give me a minute." Nykolai moved over to Mor. "Alright, that's enough practice for now."

"Aw, Daddy!"

"Maybe we'll come back out later. And we'll definitely practice tomorrow. Okay?"

Mor sighed but nodded. "Promise?"

"Promise. Now, run along. Maybe you can play with Lucy."

Mor nodded and ran off, and Nyk turned to Lucina. "Shall we?" he asked. Lucina nodded and they started for the meeting.

The meeting room was large and brightly lit, with one wall overlooking the gardens of the palace. A large oval table had been set up, chairs circling it. The majority of the table was already occupied by members of the small royal council and several high ranking Shepherds. Chrom was seated at the head of the table, his left arm in a sling. Sumia sat to his right, and Lissa and Ricken sat on her other side.

Frederick sat next to Chrom, and Maribelle next to the great knight. Cordelia stood in one of the corners of the room, leaning on her lance, and Gaius lounged in the opposite corner, a lollipop in his mouth. The former thief gave a jaunty salute to Nykolai and Lucina as they walked in, taking their seats next to Ricken.

"Wow, Chrom, that looks painful," Nykolai commented.

"It was. Woe to any who run into a mad wyvern in pain," Chrom replied, rubbing his arm. He glanced around the room and, seeing that everyone was present, cleared his throat. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" he said. The room quieted down instantly.

"As you know, Ylisse is being plagued by countless Risen hordes. For almost ten years we've dealt with this plague, and it's only getting worse. What military means we have to rid the land of these creatures, including the Shepherds, aren't doing enough to halt this. We need to stop this now before more innocent lives are lost. I'm open for suggestions."

"Can't we find the source?" Gaius piped up from his corner. Because he was sitting on the floor – he wasn't really there for the meeting after all – it sounded like his voice was coming from thin air. Realizing this, Gaius stood. "I mean, we've tried the Outrealms –which that Anna states are secure – and surely by this point we've killed all the Risen summoned by Grima and from the wars before…"

"Perhaps Plegia has something to with it," one of the councilmen stated as Gaius took his seat on the floor again. "Based on previous experiences with them, it's not unlikely. They have harassed us before."

"We can't make accusations like that," Chrom replied. "Relations with Plegia are delicate enough as it is."

The councilman shrugged. "Only a suggestion, milord."

"Sure, we could try to find the source, but we need help," Lissa said, twirling her hair on one finger. Her expression showed she was completely bored with the meeting.

"Yeah," Nykolai added, "help from places like Regna Ferox, Rosanne, Chon'sin…even Plegia…"

"Yes, but will Arata be willing to work with us?" Frederick asked, referring to the current Plegian king. The man had succeeded Nykolai's Grimleal father Validar after Grima had been defeated.

"We can try," Nykolai replied. "He is, from what I heard, sympathetic to those who worship Naga. Maybe he can help us."

Ricken muttered something about flying pigs, causing Lissa to stifle a laugh. Lucina, sitting next to Ricken, jabbed him gently in the ribs, but she was hiding a smirk as well.

Chrom, oblivious to the three, sighed. "Very well. We'll send an emissary to Plegia, as well as to Ferox and the continent of Valm."

"I'll go to Valm, my lord," Cordelia spoke up. "My pegasus knights and I can make the journey across the ocean."

"She's right," Sumia said. "Pegasi have a lot of endurance if they fly at a steady pace."

Cordelia nodded. "We may have to switch mounts mid-journey, but I know we'll make it."

"Good." Chrom rubbed his healing broken arm again, glancing about the room.

"I will go to Ferox." The general of Ylisse's rather small army spoke up.

Chrom nodded in response. "Thank you."

The room fell into silence again. Nykolai glanced around, ignoring the sigh of boredom coming from Lissa. "If there's nothing else," Lissa began.

There was a loud and urgent knock on the door to the meeting room, and Chrom called for whoever it was to enter. A ragged messenger opened the door. "Milord. I'm sorry to interrupt. The Risen are attacking a town just north of here."

Author's Notes: Hope you enjoyed! This chapter is always fun to read. Edits made to this chapter: improved dialogue, streamlined sentence structure, added a few bits and pieces to make it more understandable (if that's even a word).

Originally published 11/9/2013, edited 3/21/2041