Chapter 1: A Sword is Forged
Burning wreckage and the sprawled bodies of villagers greeted Chrom, Frederick and Lissa. The thundering clasp of another building echoed in beat to their racing footsteps through the decimated streets of Southtown. Amidst the smoke and chaos, the trio tried their best to save as many lives possible all while driving bandit pillagers away. Eventually, the group found a courier more than happy to escort them to town's riverbank where the remaining survivors had gathered. Thanking Chrom for his aid, one of the town's elder men described the crisis befalling their quiet lives and the leader responsible for the attack.
Upon hearing of the leader's last reported sighting in Town's Square, Chrom hastily departed to the burning town followed by his sister and knight. As the trio slowly approached the center of the trouble, they heard a booming voice in front of the Town's Hall.
"Get to it, lads!" a gruff man waved his torch, the flames illuminating the red marks on his cheeks. "Grab anything shiny, and put the rest to the torch! We gots an example to set for these Ylissean types!"
With the flames beginning to lick the roof of the town hall, the bandits already present tossed bundles of valuables into horse drawn wagons. In the middle of the brigand's jolly, the sound of crashing crates diverted everyone's attention to a maiden who had tried to run from hiding behind a market stall. Fear gripped her body as twenty pairs of eyes stared at her.
With a dark smile, the gruff man cooed. "Ain't that right lass?"
"S-stay away from me!" the maiden shrieked, the bandits already making their merciless advancement on the poor soul. "Please! Someone! HEEEEEELP!"
"Chrom, we have to stop them!" Lissa's icy hand shook her brother's arm. Chrom barely flinched at his sister's voice. His body visibly trembled in rage.
"Don't worry. After today, these bandits won't be bothering anyone ever again…" Chrom nodded to sister before running after the terrified maiden.
Meanwhile
To Robin, he could imagine himself spending time in Southtown if the place wasn't razed by outlaws. Having witness the homes swallowed by the arsenic flames and villagers despairing over their lost, the amnestic man couldn't help but run faster as his anger grew. `
"These people don't deserve this." Robin growled, the adrenaline propelling his foot off the the ground.
As much as he wanted to help, even a fool knew fighting without a weapon was suicide. Better yet, he had no idea if he could fight. The idea of throwing himself willing into the fray should have frightened him but excitement tremble through his body. No, thrilling was the word. It was as fighting was a natural thing to him.
The copious amount of smoke drifting onto the heated streets was making navigation difficult. Wiping his irritated eyes for the hundredth time, Robin was slowly approaching the center of the town. Again, he had no idea why but navigating the harsh terrain felt natural to him. As a burning house collapsed onto the road, the amnestic man was forced to venture off his intended path. Turning the street corner, Robin collided headfirst into a large shadow. Clutching his bruised forehead, the amnestic man groggily rose to sit from the ash-covered floor only to stare back into an irritated bandit. The world around Robin gradually felt distant as his eyes blurred everything but the target in front of him, the sound of roaring flames in his ears dissipating to the back of his mind.
The bandit hastily drew a stained bronze sword before pouncing onto his victim. Rolling to the side, Robin felt the razor edge narrowly miss him before sweeping his feet. Feeling the tanned boot heel connected with flesh, the bandit yelped before falling onto his back. The black-hair man leaped from the ground to deliver an elbow to the man's nose. The bandit howled in pain before a punch between his eyes shut his yelling cold. Panting, Robin snatched the lying bronze sword as the distinct sound of metal beating against metal rang closer.
Upon entering a wide open space, Robin's heart stopped momentarily at a loud shriek. His eyes singled out a maiden scrambling desperately amongst the numerous stalls and crates from a pair of bandits. Before the amnestic man could step forward, a blur of blue and gold zipped through the air. With a throaty cry, both bandits collapsed from the deep gash etched across their chest. A heartbeat later, the sound of heavy footsteps brought the figure of Frederick and Lissa. Sighing in relief of his savior's safety, Robin instinctively slid the sword into an empty sheathe strapped to his waist much to his surprise. With a weapon secured, the amnestic man waved his arms catch the blue-hair man's attention in the middle of directing the maiden to safety.
"Wait!" Robin yelled, feeling a smile stretch his cheeks at the trio's shocked expression.
"Robin!" Chrom's eyes bulged, recognizing the distinct clothing of the approaching male despite him being covered in burnt soot. "You followed us! Why?"
"I-I'm not certain myself." Robin chuckled, wiping a sweat from his ash-covered nose. "But I'm armed, and I know my way around a fight if you'll have me."
"Of course-strength in numbers." Chrom smiled. Immediately, the group braced themselves at the sound of encircling footsteps. Facing the bandits, the blue-hair lord and Robin couldn't help but grin, feeling the back of a comrade-in-arms. "Just stay close!"
With a quick nod, Robin sheathed his sword and instinctively reached for the bulge in his robe's pocket. Grasping the binding of the strange but familiar yellow cover book, Robin felt a renewal of energy course through him. At first glance, normal people would assume the letters written on the thin pages were gibberish but to a person such as Robin, they meant something.
'Well. Going to have to read this later,' Robin clasped the book shut to face the first bloodthirsty cry echoing in his direction.
Watching a large bandit sprint towards him, the black-hair man rushed forward. With the sensation of time momentarily stall, Robin began to analyze his opponent. 'Fighter, axe, inexperience, weak against magic.'
Twisting his body to dodge a heavy diagonal slash, the black-hair man extended his right arm to bring his fist into the bandit's nose. Seeing the lawless man grunted in pain and shock, the small distraction allowed Robin to leap a safe distance to set his next step in motion. Sheathing his sword, the young man drew his book and focused his conscious into its binding. With a tearing snap, blasting winds tossing the man's black locks around as energy gathered in his open left palm. Ignoring the number of golden circular sigils spinning rapidly around him, Robin's voice echoed. "Tonitrua!"
With a flick of his wrist, a condensed electric ball whizzed through the air. The large bandit twitched violently before dropping lifelessly face first at the foreign energy injected to his body. Turning his cold gaze back to his surroundings, the smirks of the jovial bandits fell away in hesitation and fear. Taking the initiative, Robin shut his book and immediately drew his sword at the nearest bandit. Hearing the sound of pained cries and foot clamoring echo around him, Robin felt the tension in his body fade away. Instead, a sinister urge beckon him to do one thing: smile. He was the hunter, they were the prey.
Each lethal swing of a blade and ringing success of a block were music to his ears. Leaping slightly back away from a sword thrust to his chest before countering with his own, the game he was playing only fed the twisted excitement within him. When the last of the bandit fell at his feet, Robin sighed heavily. As the hazy thrill of fighting gradually fade, the black-hair male couldn't help but frown in disgust at his ruthless handiwork. His self-lamentation was short live when he heard the cry of a particular girl.
Even amongst the overturned market stalls, he could make out two cowering villagers and Lissa pressed near a town building. Frighten but willing to fight, the young girl waved her staff desperately to keep a bandit at bay. The brigand sported numerous bruised with the most noticeable one, a hand mark on his emblazed right cheek.
"LISSA!" Chrom yelled, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of his sister in trouble.
With a raging growl, the blue-hair brother shoved his opponent, an axe-man, aside to make his way to his sister. Chrom barely took a few steps before Frederick thrust his shiny lance to counter the brigand's attack from behind. The blue-hair lord's eyes seethed with rage when bandits that were previously wary of him move to interfere in his rescue attempt.
As the ornate staff head smashed onto his bruised arm with a thwack, the undeterred bandit knocked Lissa's staff out of her hand with his fist. Robin's body raced across the death field, his the coldness in his heart growing with every beat as Lissa curled her body to shield the terrified villagers while the bandit readied to deal the killing blow. When a sword-wielding bandit ran to intercept him with a slash, Robin instinctively stepped to the side. His movement, however, was a bit slow earning him a large cut through his coat and upper right arm. Hissing in pain, Robin drew his sword at blinding speed and ferocity at his attacker's neck. As the crumpled body fell to the floor, the black-hair man used all of his momentum to drive his blade through Lissa's attacker. With a pained scream and brutal tug, Robin let the warm body fall harmlessly aside before kneeling to his savior's sister.
"You all right?" Robin gasped heavily, casually wiping the freshly splattered blood on his face.
Lissa shakily nodded to Robin with a pale face. Unlike her brother and Frederick, this was her first real battle and experience with death since joining the Shepherds. As a cleric, she could handle the sight of blood but the amount spilling onto the streets was more than she could handle in a lifetime. Perhaps, she thought, her naivety lead her profess the wrong career.
"Take them to safety. I'll be right behind you." the black-hair man rose to his feet, steadying his sword at the vengeful cries of two angry bandits quickly approaching him. "Go!"
With the sound of blades clashing faded behind her, Lissa instruct the two villagers the whereabouts of the others in hiding. Once she knew she was alone, the blonde girl leaned onto the nearest untouched building to keep herself from hurling. The nausea in her gut caused her to break out in cold-sweat, the buildup of vile in the back of her throat burned. She had joined the Shepherds to keep an eye out for her reckless brother but the scenario playing out around her shattered her views of reality. She chose to excel in the healing arts rather than combat as the idea of hurting someone was never her forte, but to kill… this was too much. Lissa curled her body to ride the sickening feeling until she heard the sound of running footsteps.
"Hey! Stay awake on me. I can't lose you now." Robin scrapped to his knees cupping the girl's face in his fingerless leather hand. Seeing life return to the blonde girl's eyes, he bowed his head in relief. "Gah…you scared me for a sec. Can you stand at least?"
Nodding, Lissa blushed slightly at the hoisting hands secured on her shoulder and waist. The sensation was rather comforting. With her staff back in hand, the blonde girl silently followed the black-hair stranger back to the fighting.
'How is he so calm?' Lissa tensed, her eyes refusing to glance at the trail of slain bandits no doubt left by Robin's sword.
With the conflict temporarily averted, the two made their way to the quiet Town's Square. Stopping at the voice of Chrom and Frederick, Lissa and Robin sighed. Their echoing steps were leagues above comforting over the raging flames around them.
"Is anyone hurt?" Chrom eyed the pair before running to his sister. After checking his sister for wounds and found nothing but small cuts, the blue-hair man sighed. Turning to Robin, Chrom smiled. "Thank Naga, I owe you-"
Seeing his friend body wobble, the blue-hair man noticed Robin's pale face with a large cut on his upper arm. Before the black-hair male could hide his wounds, Chrom grabbed Robin who immediately winced in pain. The blue-hair lord grimace, his gaze followed the trail of blood steadily gush from a large deep gash. "It would be foolish to leave a wound untreated."
Robin quietly chuckled before allowing Chrom to help set him sitting on an over turned crate. "Lissa!"
"R-right." Lissa rushed to her brother's side. After a brief inspection, the blonde girl opened her satchel and laid out a cloth to set her equipment on the stone floor. Upon wiping and disinfecting the wounds, Lissa gripped her staff. 'Ok, Lissa, just like you practiced.'
With a concentrated look, the blonde girl brought her staff to the arm wound. Robin felt a wave of calmness over take him as strength and warmth returned to his numbed arm. When the healing was done, Robin looked at the area previously wounded. The healing made it look as if he was never injured save for the large rip on his robe.
'Guess you can't have everything,' Robin frowned at the damage to his clothes before flexing his healed arm to check for any discomfort.
Thanking Lissa, Robin couldn't help but listen to Chrom and Frederick's quiet bickering in deciding their next move. Hearing the exchange of half-thought out strategies, Robin felt every nerve in his body tingle with irritation.
'Unless we want to sit in the middle of a sea of flames, your plans will fail Chrom,' the black-hair stranger snorted before turning his gaze to his surroundings. His eyes glance over the smoke and burning house debris but a movement caught his attention. Slowly, he began to notice numerous gray figures moving in the distance. With a final squint, Robin could feel his senses absorbing the information around him and constructing the entire scenario in his mind.
"Hmm, it's strange." Robin mumbled, barely loud enough to catch the attention of Chrom. "I can…Well, I can 'see things.."
"See things? Like what?" Chrom looked to the black-hair man questionably.
"The enemy's strength, their weaponry, the flow of battle…it feels like I've studied this before." Robin rubbed his chin, observing the group of bandits steadily approaching the group.
"So, you're saying you can size up the enemy at a glance?" Chrom gasped, half-shocked and awed at the realization of the stranger's trade. Lissa and Frederick glanced at each other in silence as Robin closed his eyes.
"Yes, it would seem so. And perhaps more, if I apply myself…" Robin's voice trailed off, allowing his mind to nitpick every piece of information presented, refining a strategy to decimate his opponents.
"Regardless, you've lent us your strength, and that makes you a friend." Chrom politely cough, smiling at the interesting stranger before him.
"Likewise." Robin opened his eyes, chuckling before gesturing the Shepherd's attention towards a new wave of bandits.
Reminiscing on the previous experience where all three Shepherds were caught isolated, Robin steel himself to Chrom with a proposal. "I suggest we stay close together. We'll be much stronger when we all fight together."
"Right." Chrom nodded, wondering to himself of strangest day of his life.
Within an hour, Chrom with the aid of Robin and his Shepherds ended the brigand threat after they slew the bandit leader. With the brains of their operation gone, the rest of the bandits fell into disarray before scattering into the woods.
With the raid finally over, the villagers hurried to the wells and river to put out the fire still burning their homes. As a warm breeze swept the last of the smoke covering the street, Robin collapsed onto a crate of goods with a heavy thud. In one day, he had met new friends, woke up in a new land, and fought for its people. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear the approaching footsteps until he felt something wet poking his face.
Robin's eyes immediately shot up, standing up so fast that he crashed into Chrom. Grunting in pain, Robin noticed the closeness and tinged cheeks of Chrom's face. Realizing he was atop of his friend, Robin scrambled frantically to his feet with Chrom mirroring the action. The awkwardness was finally broken as stifled giggles exploded into howling laughter. Unamused at first, Chrom and Robin couldn't help but laugh along in relief that the battle was over.
Catching her breath, Lissa turned to Robin flashing a bright smile, "We were lucky the town was close by but holy wow you're incredible. I mean swords, sorcery, AND tactics!"
"Well, I'm not that incredible." Robin lightly blushed at the blonde girl's praise, taking a drink from the offered waterskin.
"You're certainly no helpless victim that much is for sure." Chrom grunted, dusting himself while raising to his feet.
"Indeed." Frederick's voice interjected as the sound of armor clattering drew louder. "Perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came here?"
"I understand you skepticism Frederick." Robin sighed. "But I can't explain why only parts of my memories return to me. Please, believe me. I've shared all that I know."
As the words hung in the air, Chrom looked to his knight and sister before breaking the silence. "He's fought to save Ylissean lives. My heart says that's enough."
"And your mind, milord?" Frederick hesitantly asked, his brown eyes gazed carefully over Robin.
"Frederick, the Shepherd could use someone with Robin's talents. Today was just a show of how brigands and unruly neighbors are all looking to bloody our soil." Chrom gestured to the homes that unfortunately did not escape the fire. "Would you really have us lose an able tactician as odd as his story might be?"
When his knight shook his head, Chrom turned to the black-hair male relieved.
"So what about it?" Chrom extended his hand to a surprised Robin. "Will you join us?"
Considering his options, Robin knew he could have left the group when they left him during the bandit attack.
But he didn't.
These people were the ones who helped him when he woke up helplessly lost in a new land. Even though he didn't know them too well, they were already important to him. Robin looked at the Mark branded on his hand before looking to Chrom. Joining the blue-hair man would provide him a safe and stable environment if he intended to recover his lost memories. Even if his efforts were for naught, the possibility of forging new ones sounded enticing.
With a heartfelt smile, the newly appointed tactician grasped Chrom's hand. "I would be honored."