~ Prologue ~
Dive into the Heart
A deafening roar seemed to shake the very air around them. The earsplitting noise was too simply too much, and all within the vicinity of the monstrosity clasped their hands upon their ears. The Pegasi, too, were affected, writhing and thrashing, disturbed by the unnatural roar. But the well-trained, majestic steeds did not falter, and held steady enough that their passengers could remain seated.
Below them, the beast glared at them defiantly. None of the aerial combatants had ever seen such a creature before, a cetacean creature of enormous proportions, with shimmering black skin. Morgan stared down into its eyes, a pair of glowing orbs of golden flames, swirling in massive, eerily sunken sockets.
Morgan knew what was coming, but could do nothing but watch in horror, as their foe sank back into the sea. Time seemed to slow as the ocean billowed up around it, and the displaced water rushed outward. Her sister, Severa, saw the danger and urged Catria, their Pegasus, upward. Catria only narrowly avoided the devastating tide, nearly a hundred foot in height, which surged past, crashing into the coast. The torrential wave descended upon the coastal fishing village of Ferox, smashing docks, ships, and homes into driftwood and stone debris. The waters receded, moments later, dragging with them the shattered remains of what had once been a prosperous village. Bodies, animal and human alike, drifted out to sea, their dreams, futures, and lives claimed by the unforgiving ocean.
"No…" Morgan gasped. All these lives, destroyed in a heartbeat. Destroyed by the very sea that they had depended upon, generation after generation. Severa, too, seemed to be at a complete loss.
"Focus, Morgan!" At the sound of her father's voice, Morgan spun around. Her mother soared by on her own Pegasus, the Catria of this time. The legendary Pegasus knight was clad in her pristine, silvery light-plate riding armor, and her white wing-shaped hair clips shined visibly, contrasting with her vibrant, free-flowing vibrant red hair. As always, riding behind her was Robin, the famed platinum-blond Ylissean tactician, and the hero who had vanquished the fell dragon. Like Morgan's mother, her father was dressed for battle, wearing his new dark blue, silver-trimmed coat. Beneath the coat, he wore a dark hardened leather vest.
Despite the devastation below, Morgan noted that her father maintained his cool, calculating expression. "We have to turn it back! Everyone, see if you can find any weak points! Any vulnerabilities at all!" Robin said urgently.
"You got it," Severa acknowledged, flashing her father a smile. Morgan was shocked to see her father and sister both blissfully ignorant of the gruesome scene below them. Or perhaps they simply refused to acknowledge it. Morgan knew she should ignore it, too, and focus on the battle at hand. If only it were so easy.
"Yes sir!" Cynthia answered. Like everyone else, the princess and captain of the royal Pegasus knights seemed completely oblivious to the fate of the fishing village. With her cousin Owain riding behind her, she surge forward, her raven-blue pigtails bobbing in the wind as she went. Princess Lucina, Cynthia's older sister, had borrowed her mother's Pegasus and was flying alongside her sister.
Severa followed suit, her long platinum-blond hair held in place by her riding helmet. Morgan, like her mother, could never stand riding helmets and masks herself, and looked much like her mother, with her slightly shorter red hair drifting freely in the wind behind her. All around them, the other Pegasus knights closed in on their foe, who now bobbed just above the water's surface, only about a third of its body remaining visible.
Morgan scanned the monster's body for any signs of weakness. Its flesh and skin were pitch-black, reflecting only the slightest hint of light, as if it were not a living creature at all, but forged from darkened steel. It had two fins, each the size of a small warship, one on each side of its body, spread wide with only the tops drifting above the ocean's surface. Frothy, smaller waves crashed against it, and the beast seemed to take no note of the ripples, or the bodies and debris around it.
For a moment, Morgan was transfixed upon the gruesome sight. She recognized one of the bodies, a tall, dark-skinned man clad in golden armor, with a black patch stretching across his left eye. She forced herself to look away, telling herself she must have been hallucinating, and when she looked back a moment later, the body was gone. "I was imagining it," she muttered to herself.
"Imagining what?" Severa asked harshly. "Did you see something?"
"No, nothing," Morgan said quickly, and her attention returned to the creature. Her gaze followed the rough, almost skeletal ridge along the creature's back. Though it resembled a gigantic whale, this ridge extended the length of its back, and no dorsal fin could be seen.
A small crack caught her attention. "Severa, can you get us closer to the ridge on its back?" Morgan asked.
"No problem," Severa said, grinning. She leaned forward and with a soft tug, conveyed her intentions to Catria perfectly, who obediently brought the sisters closer to their foe. "Did you see something?" she asked again.
"Look at the ridge!" Morgan instructed. "Some parts of it look thicker than the rest, but they're covered in cracks!"
"Well, blast it open, then," Severa suggested. Morgan obediently selected a fire tome that her father had penned for her. Her old fire tome, Valflame, had long since been expended, but Robin's skill in creating elemental tomes had grown, and the Shepherds all had a steady supply of potent magical weaponry, now. A sphere of white flames formed in her hand, as the tome responded to Morgan's summons, and with a thought, Morgan propelled the bolt forward.
The bolt struck the point precisely, and exploded concussively. Though the explosion was nearly ten feet in radius, the sheer size of her target made the blast seem miniscule. A second and third blast followed, and when the swirling white-hot flames faded, a few new cracks had appeared.
"It's working!" Severa shouted excitedly. "Let's tell the others!"
They didn't have far to go. Though the blasts seemed so small in the distance, Cordelia's keen eyes had spotted the commotion immediately, and came soaring to their side. Needing no explanation, Robin quickly pulled forth his own tome and sent a few blasts downward, toward another of the cracked segments. Like Morgan's target, it soon bore a few additional cracks. "Good work, girls," Robin said, nodding approvingly, and he turned his tome skyward, another blast signaling for the other Pegasus knights to regroup with them. "Target those cracks!" he instructed. "Maybe if we can bust open part of its back, we can hurt it enough to repel it!"
"Severa, can you drop me beside one of them?" Morgan asked, as soon as all the Pegasus knights scattered again, swooping and swerving around the abomination, trying to choose their targets.
"Are you crazy?" Severa protested. "We're safer back here!"
"If we can make out the cracks from all the way out here, they're large enough that I could wedge a blade into one," Morgan reasoned. "Drop me on its back. It's not like it's going to be able to attack me."
"And what if it starts trying to shake you off?" Severa demanded. "Or it just sinks back into the ocean?"
"It's too shallow here for it to submerge itself," Morgan said. "And if it tries to throw me off, you'll be there to catch me."
Severa mulled it over for a moment. "Fine. I guess you did think this through," she finally agreed, and she pulled Catria closer, but not quite close enough for Morgan to leap down safely.
"Closer," Morgan urged.
"Nope," Severa replied, handing the reins over to her confused sister. "You can use magic, and you can fly Catria as well as I can." That was the only explanation she offered, as she hopped off of Catria's back. Training with the Pegasus knights had made Severa the more athletic of the two sisters, and while the jump proved difficult, Severa still managed to land evenly, a few paces from the nearest crack. With a few quick strides, she closed the distance, and jabbed Passion, the lance she had inherited from her mother in the future timeline from which she had returned, deep into the crack.
Morgan still wasn't sure what the monster was made of. It was tougher than flesh, and complete unmalleable. Despite the mysterious metallic sheen, it was closer to bone, but more fragile than she would have expected a solid slab of bone to be. As Severa wrenched her lance's shaft downward, Morgan saw part of the creature's ridge chip off, and fall away. Less than twenty paces down the creature's back, another fireball pounded into the ridge, as she tried to help however she could. Still, if the creature noticed the constant onslaught, it did not react.
Morgan watched as Severa dug Passion into the wound again and again. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that many of the other Pegasus knights had seen their maneuver, and were now imitating them. Cynthia had closed in, jabbing at the cracks with her lance, though from the back of her Pegasus, Caeda, she was unable to aim as precisely as Severa was. Owain, on the other hand, had hopped down on the creature's back. From even footing, the young, brown-haired swordsman struck at the cracks repeatedly.
Morgan loosed another pair of fireballs into the crack. She meant to continue her barrage, but suddenly, she felt magic gathering in the air somewhere nearby. She spun in time to see her father, holding a tome identical to hers, with a look of extreme concentration. With an expression of awe, she watched amethyst flames spring up around Robin seemingly at random, flowing towards the white, blazing sphere he held in his hand. Finally, the pure white flames had been entirely obscured, and the empowered projectile soared out unerringly.
The explosion was the largest yet, and the shining white embers were punctuated by the swirling amethyst fire. This time, the creature reacted, bucking wildly.
"Severa!" Morgan cried out, as she dove for her sister. Thankfully, Severa's reflexes were as sharp as ever, and she clung to Passion, wedged tightly into a crack. Though the sudden movement of the creature had still dislodged her, Severa's momentum was slowed as her lance scraped against the inside of the crack, and she managed to control the angle of her flight, crashing back down atop the ridge. A moment later, Severa scrambled back onto Catria.
Morgan looked around frantically, searching for the other Pegasus knights, hoping everyone else had escaped the sudden quake. But she was distracted by the scent of ozone filling the air, and a tingling sensation, the unmistakable signs of lightning magic at work. She looked up at her father, the only other mage present, wondering if perhaps he had switched to a different tome.
Her father still held his fire tome, and was frantically signing for them to retreat, even as Cordelia urged her Catria upwards. "Get away!" Robin cried out.
Morgan obeyed immediately, but as she soared up into the air, she saw a white flash below. She turned and gasped, as she saw Cynthia diving towards the foe instead, to where Owain lay unconscious. "Cynthia!" Morgan cried. Ignoring her father's orders, Morgan, too, dived towards them.
Suddenly, bolts of lightning flew out from the whale-like monstrosity. Thousands of vicious streaks of blue lightning ripped through the air. Morgan watched in horror as a bolt struck Cynthia, throwing her from her Pegasus, to be engulfed by the ravenous waves below. Still, Morgan pressed on, as lightning flashed all around her, hoping to reach Owain before a similar fate found him.
Owain's prone form, scorched by the brutal lightning, spun through the air past her. Morgan instinctively swerved, and she reached out as if hoping to catch the young man by the arm. Behind her, Severa, too, reached out for their friend. As if the fates were taunting them, Owain's fingers brushed against the back of Severa's hand for the briefest moment, and both girls looked directly into his dead, empty eyes for a split second, before his body, too, plummeted to the frigid waters below.
Hundreds of Feroxi fishermen, dead.
Khan Basilio, dead.
Princess Cynthia, dead.
Prince Owain, dead.
"This can't be happening," Morgan whispered. "This can't be real." She turned, and saw Severa looking at her blankly, equally stunned.
And then a bolt of lightning thundered into Morgan. The girl felt no pain as she was thrown from Catria's back. As she fell, the world seemed to become hazy. The cetacean creature began to shift, too. Its golden eyes shifted to a crimson hue, and each eye split into three. Its metallic skin became covered in draconic scales. Its two tusks emerged from the water, as it roared in victory. But as it roared, the slightly curved tusks twisted into angular horns, and seemed to slide up the creature's head until they came to a rest, protruding from its crown. Its ridge slowly retracted into its body, to be replaced by leathery, draconic wings.
"I AM ETERNAL! I AM THE BREATH OF RUIN! I AM THE WINGS OF DESPAIR!" the fell dragon roared victoriously.
Morgan felt herself hit the freezing waters. But there was no pain on impact, just the sensation of the clammy water swallowing her whole. She knew she had to move, knew that she couldn't breathe for long, but her body refused to obey, and she sank steadily into the waiting darkness.
As Morgan descended to the depths of the sea, crimson eyes began to glow, shedding light on numerous corpses, with their skin tinged a deathly, violet ashen hue. All around her, the risen stirred, and began to swim upward, ignoring the doomed woman. Morgan tried to cry out, to deny it all. No sound escaped her lips, only her last gasp of air as the world faded to black.
Morgan awoke with a jolt. She sat in silence, staring off into space for several seconds, her mind slowly coming awake.
"Another nightmare," Morgan realized, with a small groan. She tried to steady her beating heart, reminding herself that she was safely home, lying in her bed, in her own bedroom. Not on the east coast of Ferox facing that horrifying beast again. "When will they stop?" she mouthed silently.
Nearly a year had passed, since the Feroxi messenger arrived in Ylisstol, bringing word that a gigantic sea monster had been sighted off the coast. Ever since the incident, Morgan had been plagued by such nightmares. She was tempted to tell her mother and father. She knew they would be more than willing to hear her out, and would never make fun of her for it, but still, she would feel a bit silly. She was an adult, and would soon be celebrating her twenty-first birthday (according to her older sister). Adults weren't supposed to be troubled by such silly things as nightmares.
But the nightmares were growing worse, lately. This time, she had seen Khan Basilio… but Khan Basilio hadn't even been remotely close to the coast during the battle, and certainly hadn't been killed there. In fact, the fierce khan had visited Ylisstol only a week ago, hoping to curry favor with the new Shepherds and recruit a new champion, now that his old champion, Lon'qu, had abruptly decided to take a leave of absence to see the world a bit. And the villages had been evacuated before the attack, when her father realized the danger to the coastal fishing towns. The Feroxi people were all familiar with the story of the first Valmese invasion of Ferox, and this time, listened willingly. Two of the villages had indeed been destroyed, but no lives had been lost.
The Shepherds and the Pegasus knights, too, had sustained no casualties. There had been a close shave when Cynthia's Pegasus had been struck a glancing blow by the lightning and disoriented, but Morgan had been quick enough to rescue Owain. Three passengers was normally a bit much for a Pegasus, but Morgan, Severa, and Owain were all fairly light. Though the flight was uncomfortable, and Severa had lashed out at Owain verbally for clinging on just a little bit too tight, they had all escaped safely, and the monstrous creature had been repelled, never to be seen again.
The monster certainly hadn't turned into Grima, and there definitely weren't any risen sighted.
But despite the glaring differences, somehow the dream had still felt so real, and the fears clung to Morgan relentlessly. She forced her eyes shut once more, hoping to find a bit more sleep before dawn arrived.
Only then did Morgan realize she wasn't alone. She nearly jumped out of her bed when she realized there was someone else in her bed, snuggling against her, but when she realized who it was, she only laughed lightly at her own nervousness. "Hello, Morgan," she whispered to her own younger self.
The four-year-old was sound asleep. Normally, the younger Morgan shared a room with the youngest of her older "sisters". Their home had enough rooms for each of them to have their own room, but neither of the two youngest girls really wanted a room to themselves yet. Sometimes, even sharing a room with five-year-old Severa wasn't enough for little Morgan, though, and the little red-haired girl would sneak into her older self's room instead.
As Morgan listened to the little girl's rhythmic breathing, she felt some of the tension leaving her, and sleep claimed her once more.
"Morgan? Are you awake?"
The sound of her younger self's voice roused Morgan from her slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, and she notice the sunlight peeking through her wooden shutters. Though the winter chill had begun to fade away, the mornings could still be a bit brisk, and Morgan found herself wrapped tightly in her thick and tangled woolen blanket. She untangled herself before stretching with a loud yawn. "Good morning, Morgan," she said, smiling at the little girl, who had also wrapped herself tightly in her own blanket.
"Good morning!" the little girl said happily, before bouncing off the bed.
With another yawn, the adult Morgan crawled out of bed, too, knowing what her younger sister had in mind. Together, the two girls made their away across the hall into the restroom, and Morgan reached for a fire tome lying on a tall shelf.
A small basin of clean water rested atop the counter. Below, there was a small tray, precisely the size and shape of an open spell tome. Behind the tray was a metal implement, shaped like a particularly shallow and wide cup. Morgan rested the tome on the tray, and a moment later, a small flame began burning from the cup, slowly heating the water. She noticed that the water was already slightly warm to begin with, indicating that her father had probably already lit the flame earlier. Her mother and father slept in the room downstairs, which had a separate washroom, but Robin was in the habit of lighting the flame upstairs too. He claimed it to be for their sake, but Morgan was pretty sure he just liked playing with fire magic.
While waiting for the water to warm fully, Morgan did a few quick stretches, as was her normal morning routine. Beside her, little Morgan simply stared at the flame, sitting perfectly still with surprising patience.
Morgan tested the water briefly as she finished her stretches. "It's ready," she announced, before helping her younger self onto a wooden bench so that the little girl could reach the basin. After little Morgan had finished washing her face, the adult Morgan did the same, while silently reflecting upon how such a simple invention made their lives so much more comfortable. Especially during the frosty winter mornings, having a ready source of warm water was quite pleasant. The fireplace, too, was now fueled by magic, and there was no need for firewood when the evenings grew chilly.
Morgan noted with some satisfaction that the fire still remained lit. The tome she used had been penned specifically for this purpose. It was nearly useless in battle, as the flames, while potent, were dispersed and took too much time to build up. But while normal flames typically burn for no more than a minute and a half when used with the water heater, this tome, which her father had dubbed "Slow Burn", could last as long as six minutes.
"Severa, the water is heated up!" Morgan called, as she dried her hair quickly, and donned a pair of small wing-shaped hairclips. A few months back, she had decided to grow out her hair a bit. After an amusing incident where one of the Shepherds mistook Morgan for her mother, Severa found and purchased the pearl accessories, which looked nearly identical to the ones their mother nearly always wore. It had been intended as a joke, but Morgan took a liking to the clips and now wore them almost every day herself.
A few moments later, the younger Severa came bounding out of the room she shared her little sister. "Good morning, Morgan!" she said.
"Good morning," Morgan said, as Severa rushed into the restroom while the fire was still lit. The little girl shared none of her little sister's patience, and particularly hated standing there, fidgeting impatiently while waiting for the water to be heated up again. The adult Severa, on the other hand, usually preferred to sleep in, and true to her nature, remained silent behind her still-closed door. Morgan shrugged; her mother and adult sister had both practiced using tomes, too, and Severa could easily light the fire herself. It might not remain lit quite as long, as Morgan and her father were both more experienced with magic, but it would be enough for their purposes.
"Good morning," Robin called, as Morgan stepped down the stairs. Robin and Cordelia were already seated at the dining table, and the younger Morgan was already sitting happily beside her father, digging into a bowl of warm oatmeal.
"Good morning, Dad. Good morning, Mom," Morgan greeted, as she grabbed a wooden bowl and filled it from the small pot, before sitting down beside her mother.
"Did little Morgan sneak into your room again?" Cordelia guessed, smiling. Cordelia was a light sleeper, and had heard the soft pattering of footsteps against the hardwood floor in the middle of the night. But the younger girl answered first, nodding happily as she continued to eat, and the adult Morgan only laughed.
"Good morning!" little Severa called out, as she hopped down the staircase, rushing towards her mother for a quick hug. Despite her small stature, her footsteps thundered heavily against the wooden floorboards, and the weapons hanging over the fireplace rattled. With a sigh, Robin rose from his chair and casually straightened the two weapons. One of them was his own sword, Eternity. The other was one of Cordelia's javelins, decorated with beautiful sky-blue and pale-pink seashells. It had little practical value as a weapon, but in addition to being a lovely decoration, it held nearly as much sentimental value to the couple as Robin's sword did.
Robin then approached the newly designed cooking range and served out another bowl of oatmeal. "You can sit here, sweetheart," he said gently, as he placed the bowl in front of his own seat, knowing that the younger Severa loved sitting beside her mother.
"Thank you, Daddy!" Severa said cheerily, as she climbed into her father's chair.
"Are you leaving already?" Cordelia asked, as Robin leaned in for a kiss.
"Yeah. Anna says one of her sisters was able to find some of the materials I've been using," Robin said. "I was hoping she'd give up the idea when she found out how rare some of these parts are. It didn't quite pan out the way I envisioned, though."
Cordelia sighed. "Well, you know Anna. Once she smells money, she won't let go. I still don't know if it's a good idea to be marketing your experiments."
"I know it isn't a good idea," Robin said, smiling. "But we don't have the materials to build any more of the lecterns right now, and the princesses have been hinting quite heavily that they'd like a couple of them in the castle."
"I don't know why," Morgan said. "Isn't the castle big enough for a full bathhouse?"
"Most of the castle workers just visit the town bathhouse," Robin said with a shrug. "Running a full bathhouse for just the royal family and the few retainers who live in the castle would be a little excessive."
"Besides, the magical cooking fires are easier to work with than wood fires," Cordelia pointed out, gesturing towards their stove, which was similarly powered by a fire tome. "Still, not everyone can use magic well. It could be a little bit dangerous to start selling these in the market."
"Come to think of it, if we did put lecterns in the castle, who would be lighting them?" Robin wondered. "Sumia might know how to use staves, but she's never used a tome before, to my knowledge."
"Probably Ricken or Miriel," Cordelia said. "Though since Ricken rejoined the Shepherds, he's on the road a lot. Maybe we could teach Chrom how to use magic."
Robin groaned. "I've tried before. You'd have better luck teaching Caeda. At least there might be some innate affinity for magic there."
"Hmm… Pegasi wielding tomes… that's an idea," Morgan said thoughtfully. "Mom, can I try teaching Catria later?"
"I think your dad was joking," Cordelia said, smiling at the thought. "You're welcome to try, but I don't think she'll be too interested."
"She probably wouldn't be," Robin agreed. "Anyways, I'll see you ladies later. Hopefully this meeting will be quick and painless."
"I'll be bringing the girls up to the castle later. Sumia invited us over for tea. Why don't you drop by and join us?" Cordelia invited.
"I wish I could, but I have a batch of wind tomes in the workshop waiting to be inked," Robin said.
"I'll take care of them for you," Morgan offered quickly, eager for an opportunity to spend the day in her father's workshop. In Morgan's mind, even before the workshop had been built, Robin's library was already the most fascinating place in all Ylisse. The workshop full of magical paraphernalia and incomplete innovations were a source of endless entertainment for her.
Robin looked at her with suspicious smile. "Sorry, Morgan. I need them inked, not stacked."
"Tome stackers!" little Morgan cried enthusiastically, through a mouthful of oatmeal.
"I promise, Dad. No tome stacking today," Morgan reassured hastily.
"And no smuggling tomes out of the workshop, and into the Shepherd's garrison," Cordelia added firmly.
"Oh come on, even Lucina agreed that it was worth it, last time," Morgan protested, smiling fondly at the memory. "Besides, these are wind tomes. They aren't half as fun."
Robin eyed her suspiciously for a moment longer, before giving in. "Alright. Thanks, Morgan," he said.
Morgan wasn't too bothered by the promises her parents had extracted from her. As she stepped past her father's workbench, she looked longingly at a wooden crate full of paper tubes, each containing various explosive blends. When lit, these tubes would shoot into the sky before exploding into showers of multicolored lights.
According to her mother, her father had invented these years ago, on the road. Chrom and Sumia had missed the first attempt, as they were in Ylisstol at the time, and two years ago, Sumia had practically begged Robin to attempt the display once more. The project had been delayed when Morgan "borrowed" some of the components for a little prank of her own. But she had been more than willing to help her father refine the various mixtures, and together, they had put on a spectacular show in the castle courtyard a couple months ago to celebrate the dawn of the new year.
Unable to resist, Morgan tugged at one of the tubes. "Drat," she muttered, when she realized the tubes were tightly bound inside the crate. It would be difficult to extract a single tube, and her father would certainly notice if she left the crate in disarray, or if the entire crate disappeared.
Her plan foiled, Morgan approached her father's clockwork device, used for inking tomes. It was a fascinating device, capable of penning an entire tome in under twenty minutes from the template. On the other hand, as it required a metal plate for each page. Preparing the template for a real book could take nearly a month. It was less than ideal for duplicating ordinary texts, but perfect for spell tomes which repeated the same page over and over.
After a quick check to ensure the device's ink pot was empty, Morgan carefully uncorked a bottle of ink, blended specifically for penning wind tomes and poured the contents into the device. She slipped a long roll of parchment onto a beam, and carefully extended it onto the wooden tray, securing it in place. With one last look to confirm everything was in its proper place, Morgan wound up the crank tightly. When the crank stopped, she released a small brass catch, and the device began automatically feeding the parchment through, as the metal plate above pressed down. On the other end, a thin metal blade slid back and forth underneath a protective cover, separating the pages.
Morgan inspected the first few pages, and noted that they were perfectly aligned. With a satisfied nod, she returned to the workbench. There was no reason to sit there idly watching the clockwork mechanism do its work, after all, she reasoned. Not when there were new and exciting inventions to play with. She immediately spotted a pouch of warp powder. The new warp powder was expensive to produce, as it required powdered sunstone, a rather rare mineral. It was also inconveniently unstable. Over a short distance, such as within Ylisstol, it could deliver its user almost precisely to his or her destination. But any farther and there was a margin of error, which only grew with distance. Morgan had helped herself to some of the warp powder the previous autumn, thinking to visit her friends, Inigo and Brady, who were living far to the north in Regna Ferox. The unpredictable powder had deposited her nearly ten miles away. Smiling wistfully, Morgan tightened the small piece of rope that held the pouch shut.
Her attention was then drawn to a large, circular, shallow basin full of seemingly clear water. Morgan's smiled widened as she recognized the device immediately. The Grimleal had once used this to commune with each other, and called it the "Oculus", an archaic word for "eye." According to the manuals that have been discovered along with the Oculus, it had to be filled with unholy water, prepared through specific Grimleal rites. Any unholy water they had found had lost the blessing of Grima, though, rendering it seemingly useless.
Robin had been intrigued anyways, and began experimenting with it and other fluids. After some mild calibration, he realized that holy water reacted with the device, too. The Oculus still didn't function quite right; it was meant to allow the user to see across large distances, focusing their attention on someone or something as far as a continent away. But as it was with the warp powder, the substitute components added a measure of inaccuracy.
Morgan still remembered their first test of the Oculus. Robin had guided the Oculus to seek out the adult Severa, who he knew was hanging out in the Shepherds' garrison with the other Pegasus knights and Shepherds. Instead, the Oculus had given him a vision of the castle's kitchen. Though the experiment was a failure, it was a fortunate one; as he was dismissing the image, Robin caught a glimpse of baby Cynthia hiding in the corner. Sure enough, when Morgan and Robin made their way to the castle, they found the exalt and several of the castle's workers running around in panic, searching for the missing princess. They had tried to use the Oculus several more times after, but like the first time, the images granted by it were never quite what they were hoping for.
Morgan frowned as she noted a small symbol, the mark of the fell dragon, carved into the stone basin. It was a meaningless symbol now, but seeing it invoked the images of her nightmare once more. As she thought of her friend, Owain, falling through the air once more, she cringed. Though it hadn't happened that way in actuality, Morgan was still worried for her friend.
Not long after the incident in Ferox, the Shepherds decided to investigate the appearance of the strange sea monster. The search proved unsuccessful, as very little was known about the hostile. Eventually, the rest of the Shepherds simply called off the investigation. Owain, though, was determined to learn more, and set off with his normal dramatic declarations of adventures and heroics. At first, the others thought it was just Owain being his usual eccentric self. But after two weeks, they began to worry, and their search began anew, this time focused on their absent companion.
The search proved fruitless, save for a single letter that Owain had left for them, in the hands of the mayor of a small fishing village on Ylisse's eastern coastline. Their intrepid friend had taken to the seas, seeking out the various island civilizations in hopes that someone out there knew more about the potential threat.
Nearly a year had passed, and neither the monster, nor Owain, had been seen again. The Shepherds and the Pegasus knights continued their search, going as far as to send messengers to all the islands known to be populated, but though there were numerous sightings off the elusive Shepherd swordsman, the trail went cold.
The hardest part for Morgan to accept was that no one else seemed to be alarmed. Even Princess Lissa, Owain's mother, was familiar with Owain's overly adventurous personality, and had assured Morgan that Owain would return safely. The only others who seemed to share Morgan's concerns were Owain's father, Frederick, Owain's cousin, Princess Lucina, and Severa.
The sound of a small bell indicated that the ink pot was nearly empty. Morgan quickly collected a second bottle of ink and refilled the device. But she nearly dropped the bottle when it was still half-full, when an idea struck her.
"Morgan, you're a genius!" Morgan said aloud. "Or maybe an idiot," she mused, wondering why it had taken so long to think of her latest plan, as her gaze rested upon the Oculus once more. Out of curiosity, her father had tried to focus the device on a number of deceased individuals. The Oculus didn't react at all to any of those attempts. Which meant, if Morgan tried to focus it on Owain, as long as it showed something, it meant Owain was still alive and out there somewhere.
The hard part was going to be to find something that belonged to Owain, or had been in his proximity for a significant amount of time. After a quick check to make sure the tome inking device was still functioning smoothly, Morgan stepped into the adjacent library and started searching the wooden chest where the younger Morgan kept her toys. She returned to the workshop a few moments later, with what she had been searching for – a small, sparkling green gemstone Owain had purchased for little Morgan as a birthday gift. It was a little bit dusty, now, as it had lain there forgotten for some time.
Clutching it tightly, Morgan concentrated on the image of her friend, before leaning forward, dipping her face into the basin, with her eyes tightly shut, hoping that the Oculus would conjure an image for her.
A tall man muscular man with tanned skin and dark, messy hair soared through the sky. Two large brown feathery wings protruded from his back, beating rapidly, keeping him suspended. He wore a long, ragged green coat, buckled loosely at the waist and partially exposing his muscular chest, and a bright red headband kept his messy hair out of his eyes as he flew. His golden eyes flashed, reflecting the sunlight, and his face was unmarred, save by anger.
"Strife! There are more of them approaching from the west!" he roared, as he closed in on another man. Like the first, this man was suspended in the air by enormous wings, though his feathers were coal-black. The second man was slightly shorter than the first, with paler skin, and his medium-length midnight blue hair was combed back neatly. He wore a tidy, dark coat with a deep neckline. Unlike his companion, his expression was calm, and he seemed perfectly collected.
"Relax, Valent. They are only eidolons," Strife reassured.
"King Phoenicis!" called a black-haired, black-winged man, as he flew up to Strife. "From the west! There are-"
"More coming. Yes, I am aware, thank you," Strife interrupted dryly, indicating his first visitor. "Still, they are but insects."
"Damn it, Strife! You know quite well that these are no ordinary insects!" Valent said.
Strife rolled his eyes. "I also happen to know you pretty well, my friend. Well enough to know that there's nothing to be afraid of. I suppose you are rightfully angry. Well, no one will protest if you would like to offer a demonstration of your pent-up rage to our unwelcome guests."
"That's not the point!" Valent protested. "This is the fourth attack this month alone! The Beorc face the same difficulties, as does Gallia, but where is Goldoa!? Our forces are being pressed, by land and by air!"
"King Goldoa is away," Strife reminded. "But they have already sent help. Some of them have reached Begnion already, as their need is greater than ours. But reinforcements are on their way here to Phoenicis." Valent growled, clearly unsatisfied. Strife sighed, in a manner that indicated he was all too familiar with his friend's surliness. "If we are truly being pressed, perhaps we should not be hovering here, idle," Strife said wryly. As he finished, he began flying west, his two companions following suit.
The battle had already begun by the time the king and his companions arrived. Over a dozen massive hawks and ravens, each at least the length of an adult man, with a wingspan twice as wide as they were long, spiraled through the air, slashing at their foes with their mighty, razor-sharp talons.
The insects, as Strife had so derogatively labeled them, resembled large moths. They were nearly four feet in length, and their flesh was dark and without texture, as if they had been born from shadow itself. Only their wings and heads were clearly visible. Their scaly wings were almost translucent, though tinting the light that pierced them, and punctuated by black veins. Their heads resembled human skulls, and their eerie, skeletal faces were composed of the same dark matter as the rest of their bodies, with golden glowing flames shining out from their hollow eye sockets, and sharp fangs protruding from their otherwise human-like jaws. Their abhorrent appearance did little to deter the many hawks and ravens.
Over three dozen eidolons hovered around the birds, who were outnumbered two-to-one. But by the time Strife and Valent joined the fray, the numbers had already been evened out. As Strife dove forward, his body transformed, and was replaced by that of a large raven, much like the other ravens in battle around him. Similarly, Valent changed into a massive brown hawk. While Strife was nearly indistinguishable from their allies, Valent was significantly larger than even the largest hawk present.
As the last of the eidolons met a grisly fate at the ends of Valent's talons, Strife reverted to his humanoid form. "Come on. There's more of them below."
"I'm surprised you're here, Raven King," one of the hawks said with a smirk, as he, too, reverted to a humanoid appearance. This man appeared far older than Valent, despite being smaller in stature. "Shouldn't you be hiding in your nest?"
"Watch it, hawk!" one of the ravens said, similarly reverting, but Strife held up his hand commandingly, demanding an end to the senseless argument.
"Hold your disdain in check, Horus," King Phoenicis said to the hawk sternly. "I know some think quite little of us ravens, but I know my place. Better than you, I imagine. Now let us be off."
The hawk had no suitable retort for the raven, especially when Valent reverted to his human form and glared at him. The rest of the birds, too, shifted until they resembled winged humans, and together, they descended into the forests below.
Morgan withdrew from the basin, gasping for air. She had buried her head in the basin far longer than advisable, but the image the Oculus had provided to her was simply too bizarre for her to let it fade away. As she tried to catch her breath, she tried to make sense out of the image. Humans with wings. Humans turning into birds. Strange monsters, with golden glowing fires for eyes. None of it made any sense, and worst of all, none of it had anything to do with Owain.
"Or does it?" Morgan asked aloud, uneasily, as she began to understand the vision. Many stories spoke of humans who could transform themselves. But apart from the Manaketes, who carried within them the blood of dragons, Morgan was only reasonably sure of the existence of one more group of shape shifters. A little over a year ago, Morgan and her family visited a small settlement on the edges of Ylisse called Azure Pyre, where they met a young warrior named Priam. Priam claimed to be a descendant of the legendary Radiant Hero from the faraway land of Tellius, a continent shared by the Beorc, ordinary humans like themselves, and the Laguz, humans with some animalistic features who could transform fully into beasts, birds, and even dragons.
"Owain, where are you?" Morgan muttered, as she climbed back to her feet, wondering if it was truly possible that her friend had made it all the way to Tellius, a continent who few believed even existed. But then she realized something else – the strange monsters the bird Laguz had been battling had the same golden eyes of the monstrosity they themselves battled off the east coast of Ferox. It was too much of a coincidence.
A soft ringing echoed through the musty workshop, alerting Morgan that the tome-inking device was now out of paper.
Morgan frowned, as she replaced the parchment roll, and began binding the completed pages into green cloth book covers. She had hoped to assuage her fears when she invoked the Oculus. Now, though she was reasonably sure Owain was alive, she was more worried than ever. Worst still, there was nothing she could do about it.
She could tell her parents. But that would only worry them, too. With two small children to attend to, there was little they could do, anyways. She could tell Severa, or maybe Lucina, but again, that would only alarm them. Without even knowing where Tellius lay, there was little either of them could do to help.
As Morgan looked around the room, another idea presented itself to her, unbidden, as she spotted the pouch of warp powder again.
"This is crazy, Morgan," Morgan muttered to herself, even as her thoughts drifted to the distant Ylissean port town of Bright Crest.