The Sword by my Side
The air rushed fast enough past Robin that it made his ears sting in the cold wind, so he hid behind the body of his daughter as the Pegasus raced through the sky to better shield his head. Looking closely at her armor, he realized he had seen this particular pattern of engraving before, likewise with the fabric on the skirt and boots.
Just, on someone else.
Could it be?
"Where'd you get this armor?" Robin asked curiously. Severa sighed and craned her neck to face him slightly. Her slight grin was visible, lined with both pride and mischief.
"When mom hung up the lance, I kinda... stole the whole package when I took it up. I mean, what's a knight without armor? I had to look like my work amounted to something more than riding a winged horse, right? Mom didn't mind. She said, well after the rant about me stealing it, that it looks great on me, minus the breastplate. She wanted it fixed as a reminder of her false obsession with Chrom."
Robin noticed that the chest plate had been altered to a slimmer less obtuse shape, clearly in disdain of her mother's deceptive armor's purpose. The rest of it was maintained expertly, though Robin noticed she intentionally left the nicks and scratches from its original owner's campaigns, perhaps as a sign of gratitude or remembrance towards her mother's devotion to her sisters in arms. Still, he didn't want to stare at his daughter's chest, but he imagined Cordelia wearing the same armor, fighting by his side. If only she didn't have that distracting breastplate, she would've been as perfect in battle regalia as her soul was.
"Ah, I never understood her logic behind it either," Robin admitted. Granted, she wasn't exactly gifted in the buxom department, but Cordelia was still immensely beautiful in her own way...
Severa fumed as her father started daydreaming, pouting quietly as she turned her attention back to the front. Just one mention of Cordelia and he was already in his own little world... Just in time, Ylisstol made itself visible in the horizon, so Severa started making her descent. Robin noticed this and stared at the castle intently. The last time he was in there was when they departed for their conquest of Valm.
It's been such a long time...
"Who's there right now?" Robin wondered aloud, anticipating the infinite number of reunions he was about to have.
"Well actually, the new Shepherds have been out on sortie, you know, Inigo, Gerome, Nah, Noire, Cynthia, Owain..." Robin winced at his new son-in-law's name. "Yarne, Laurent, Kjelle, Brady, et cetera. I join them when the Morgans are busy, but usually Morgan is the team leader and on super super special occasions, Lucina joins up with us, accompanied by that pimping son of yours."
"What's their mission's objective?" Robin asked, ignoring Severa's snide remark towards Marc.
For starters it's involving exploration beyond the borders of the entire continent. I mean, it makes sense if Valm is to our west and the Radiant Hero bears from somewhere to out north... What other legends are there to discover? What lands, what knowledge can we divulge from our surroundings? N-not like it matters to you Dad... You're probably too tired to care what's out there."
"The only thing that matters is my family. But, if I may ask, how do the Shepherds expect to go thousands of miles across seas and deserts and jungle, and expect them to return safely?" Severa anticipated this and fired back instantly, smiling from her father's initial statement.
"Luckily, Morgan's been at work perfecting some sort of teleportation magic, you know, like mage blinking but on a much farther and time consuming scale. With enough concentration, she could probably warp you to some random field in Plegia in a blink of an eye if you give her enough Elixir. You might also find yourself partially embedded in a mountain, which is also quite equally sudden."
Robin coughed nervously, rather impressed with his daughter but at the same time skeptical that the New Shepherds would use an ability so unrefined... Unless of course...
"And how important is this mission that Chrom would insist upon it?"
"Enough that Frederick scrambled most of the Shepherds moments after Lady Naga manifested herself in the Throne Room, a few inches away from death, muttering something about, 'More than just Grima.'"
Princess Lissa, the title far too youthful for her age of 36, watched the passerby as she made idle chatter with the woman across from her; Morgan. Although nearly 17 years had passed since the events of the Fell Dragon, her ladylike manner and appearance still had room for a number of undignified behaviors.
One of them being gossiping.
Another one being giggling.
Both of which birds that were being slain by her metaphorical stone. And discreetly at that, as the table they sat on was right across from Chrom's study and Lucina's bedroom, which was on the throne room floor overlooking all of the bustle in and out of the castle.
"And what I've heard from both Marc and you, Severa is still interested in Owain! Looks like you beat her to the prize, eh?" Morgan blushed heavily, and even at her older age the prospect of romance was both foreign and strange. Theoretically speaking, she had only lived in memory of the last 18-19 years of her life, or whenever she appeared to the Shepherds along with Marc when the Plegian campaign was still heavily in course, so romance at this mental state of her life was a given.
"Owain always thought as Severa as a comrade in arms. Never anything more, especially when they were alone. Sev was pretty devastated when Owain's first 'date' with her was to the blacksmith, not the town."
Lissa giggled once more at her son's fanatical obsession with the art of the blade. Even though her son was only a few years younger than her in this timeline, her rounded belly was evident that not only was Owain 2.0 in the works, but that Owain needed a place to go for a while to avoid disturbing his mother. Said myrmidon was currently polishing Mystletynne, the self-proclaimed sword that was in fact just a black Killing Edge with special engravings on the blade, to a crystal-like state, not too far away from the two but still well out of earshot.
"Was she upset?"
"Well of course! You know how Sev is, very stern and hostile but once she softens up, she's really sweet and loving. I almost felt bad at first Owain didn't stay with her but now that he's mine... I guess you could say I made the right choice."
"And so did he, I'm proud to say," Lissa said proudly, causing Morgan's blush to be as red as her mother's hair.
"Well, Sev will find someone someday... I guess. She is still way prettier than me, even at our maturing age." Lissa laughed, not a wrinkle or crease on her youthful facade.
"Speak for Fred and Uncle Chrom over there..."
The Exalt was sighing over a giant stack of paperwork Frederick had dumped on his desk, Falchion resting open his side and glowing even through its sheath. Even at 39, Chrom's face showed a youthful side to it, but the stresses of the war along with the loss of his friends, especially Robin, had taken a toll on his composure. Where smooth skin lay in the past, now a noticeable crease outlined his usual scowl, and the blue hair of the exalt was now less saturated as grey had begun its attack, slow and quiet. He slouched slightly when he stood, not just because of age but the stress of bearing the fate of the nation, along with its politics, on his shoulders... far from the simple fatigue of combat.
Frederick on the other hand was the epitome of elegant ageing. At 45, the Knight was as keen and observant as he was back when he served Emmeryn. He had noticeable wrinkles and graying sideburns alongside a fading goatee which added to both his wisdom, age, and threatening aura. He still wore his uniform underneath his noticeably scarred armor, and expertly kept his hands at parade rest when not being addressed by the royal family.
"Frederick, as to what catastrophe did this enormous hassle exist from?" Chrom was tempted to draw Falchion for the first time in years and end his misery right there, but decided against it.
"M'lord, as you know, Morgan's experiments with teleportation had progressed into actual developments. However, while immensely productive, the majority of said tests involved vegetables, livestock, and in one case the Duke of Rosanne's small clothes being phased into infinity, quite a ways off from the intended destination."
"Remind me what she was doing teleporting Virion." Chrom rubbed his temples stiffly, not caring at all whether a few potatoes were missing but more so why Morgan would use other's property when her own backyard was a farm.
"M'lord, she was seeing whether she could teleport him to Rosanne." Chrom peeked over at the mage, still giggling with his sister.
"Which she did manage to do, minus the small clothes," Frederick added for clarification.
At this moment, two manaketes nearly ran through the palace doors, the guards wise to stand out of their way as their identities were already known. Chrom along with Frederick snapped to attention, the latter bowing humbly at Tiki's presence.
"M'lord Chrom, we have a grim situation." Chrom recognized both Tiki and Nah, but noticed that Nowi was missing. That was unimportant, for now.
"Ah yes, have you three returned from the Table so soon?" Earlier in the year, the three Manaketes all detected a flux in Naga's essence simultaneously, so they requested an expedition to the same mountain where Chrom had performed the Awakening, which was where Naga's strength was the most evident.
"It's not that M'lord, we arrived too late..." Chrom raised his eyebrows in question, and the whole hall lay quiet as a slight ruffling was heard in the distance.
"Nowi," Frederick stated flatly, recognizing his wife's Dragon form in a heartbeat. "But who's on her back?" Rarely, Nowi would let Frederick ride her in Dragon form, so this stranger... Wait. Green hair, white dress. Her head was bouncing along limply with the flight, as if she were asleep. Wait, not asleep...
"In Naga's name! M'lady Lissa! We have wounded!" Frederick yelled just as Nowi entered the threshold of the throne room with whoever was on her back dismounting unceremoniously to the floor, with barely enough time for Chrom to catch her.
"M'lady, you seem to be bleeding profusely... Wait..." Chrom almost dropped her in shock, quickly recomposing himself.
"Lady Naga!?" Lissa immediately started healing the divine dragon as well as she could, but mortal magic only helped to stabilize Naga's condition, not heal it. Chrom shook his head in fear and shock. The last time Naga appeared vulnerable was when the Shepherds rescued an alternate timeline's version of their children from Grima... Which meant...
"He's back?" Chrom whispered in anguish. No, gods please... No- Wait. If Grima was back, that means Robin...
Suddenly, Tiki's eyes glowed in an ethereal green as she levitated slightly off the ground, her surroundings glowing dim around her. Recognizing Tiki's act as a vessel to Naga, everyone walked slowly towards her, anticipating Naga's words.
"Hear me, brave Shepherds. My physical body mirrors my actual state, and I am afraid neither vessels can stem the coming threat."
"M'lady, I gladly offer my name and my sword in service to whatever needs to be done! Anything to honor those friends not with us!" Chrom knelt to the ground, Falchion unsheathed for the first time in years and planted firmly into the tiles of the hall.
"Chrom, bearer of the Falchion, as I stated before, I am no god, as was Grima."
"Has Grima returned, M'lady?"
"Not as I had feared when I was first wounded, only now I realize. In this realm, I, Naga, the Divine Dragon, and Grima, The Fell Dragon, had lived in relative equilibrium over this continent. I, along with Tiki, had watched kings and heroes live and die for the pursuit of peace, which had been won by both their hands and by their blood. However, with the death of Grima, I had foolishly let my guard down in the dragon realm, only for myself to be attacked by a spirit I had not seen in this continent since its existence."
"So that means... Grima is still dead?" Morgan asked, hopeful that maybe with Grima's resurrection, Robin might appear again. She would gladly take down Grima if it were to bring back her father.
"Yes child, I am thankful so. But do not worry, your father is still battling in the spirit realm, ever making his way back to the physical world. A battle I cannot aid, nor monitor. But something he did must have triggered my attention lest I would not have noticed his presence. Some surge in power, followed by a fluctuation of essence, the same pulse the three manaketes heard. This being which I have assumed was your father, has not only transcended between realms, but his spirit has grown from man to dragon. All he has to do now is reacquire his physical form and revive it." Morgan smiled slightly at this news, her faith rekindled, though it never really was extinguished.
"But if Grima is not awoken or alive, then what threat does Ylisse face now, M'lady?" Chrom asked.
"The dragon who attacked me does not seek to end the world as Grima did... But as his teeth sunk into my back I could feel the energy sapping from me, his aura too great to be merely Divine. Somewhere, not in the land of the Hero King, nor in the land of the Radiant Hero, but in a faraway place, lies a dragon, neither fell nor divine, who seeks to subjugate humanity by its desires and rule as its self-made god. My friends, my heroes... This cannot come to pass. Already, kingdoms have been turned into its foothold over mankind, and already, empires have fallen and sword turned on owner in bitter pointless war. You cannot let this contagion spread to Akaneia- Ylisse."
"M'lady, do you know where this contagion takes root?" Chrom asked, trying to formulate a plan.
"Alas, I do not. My attacker struck while I was inattentive, causing me to lose direction and focus instantly. All I know is that his scent, his aura, has not made itself present in any realm since we have claimed this earth. But know this, Shepherds... I expect this attacker will kill me the next time he catches my scent... Which is why I have a request."
"We are in your debt, Lady Naga! Just show us the way!"
"I have already told you that civilizations surrounding you do not house this attack. However, those Eirhenjar you collected, their stories and their heroes may grant knowledge as to their respective Dragon spirits. Perhaps your best option... No, your only option, is to seek out those continents... I beg of you to."
"Naga, Falchion was forged to defeat the fell dragon. Without you or the fell dragon in context of this new threat, what is to be our course of action?" Chrom asked.
No response.
"M'lady?" Tiki's eyes flickered before they slowly faded, Naga's influence on her leaving the manakete exhausted. The elder manakete fell to the ground, visibly in shock of the surprise possession, but more in shock of experiencing Naga's pain first hand. She struggled to breathe, and had no control over her limbs as she writhed in agony on the tiles as Lissa tried to stabilize her as well. Chrom acknowledged the scene sadly and turned to Morgan, still contemplating whether or not her father could have returned with the emergence of this threat.
"Wait... He has to be back then! Robin is not Grima, but he still contains his dragon's blood in his veins!" Morgan yelled to herself excitedly. "With the emergence of Naga, that could only mean that Robin has revealed her - being her counterpart - to the dragons in this universe!"
"What are you getting at, Morgan?"
"Father may have endangered Naga when he regained control of himself. That surge of power must've had a shockwave effect that was detectable by the other dragons in the universe, like a stone in a pond! Since Naga barely interacts outside of this continent, that ripple should've attracted the dragons to her previously docile location! As Robin isn't a dragon, naturally one of them attacked her by mistake in attempts to claim power... In the absence of a fell dragon."
Morgan didn't want to think that Robin was the cause of Naga's encounter with mortality, but if it meant her Father was back, it was a price she was willing to pay.
"I have a plan, Lord Chrom that may help us all." Morgan smiled faintly, grabbing the tome from her robe that she now always kept with her.
"What do you intend to do?" Chrom asked, fearful that he already knew the answer.
"I'm going to blink the Shepherds to each known continent. Groups of 3, just like Father devised. Accountability and accuracy are essential in this mission, but not as much as speed..." Morgan slowly progressed to tactician mode as she rapidly formulated a plan.
"Mobility is a must, after all, returning to Ylisse is mandatory for mission completion and information reports. If there is in fact a fell dragon at each continent like there is a divine one... That means each continent acts as each dragon's domain, which means each territory should be marked somehow... Followers, like the Grimleal perhaps? Priests, secret orders, just like Libra for Naga... Wait. The Falchion glows brightest when in the presence of a dragon. But how do we know if its the one attacking Naga... A place where a dragon hasn't been seen... Like an invisible kingdom? Or just silent and blind?"
Chrom struggled to keep up with this information, but he was pretty sure he wasn't the one being addressed. Robin, what in the hell did those genes create?
Suddenly, Morgan yelped.
"Give me all the maps we have... to EVERYWHERE!" By this time, Frederick had already scrambled the Shepherds into the hall, and he announced that they should be coming within 90 minutes fully ready to go and ready to move.
"Belay that order Frederick... Tell them to pack heavy. And to bring something unique to them only. I'll need a way to bring them back, somehow."
"Uh... Morgan, how do you know that your teleporting magic will get them where they need to go?" Morgan merely smiled as she turned around and outstretched her hand casually.
"Do me a favor and don't move.
Owain, dear, outstretch your hand like such." The swordsman shrugged, stretching his hand like Morgan was. The tactician turned her back to them and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She exhaled just as sharply.
"Uh, Morgan?" Chrom began, before feeling the familiar weight by his hip suddenly disappear. Falchion lay perfectly in Owain's hand, and as he was of royal blood, the blade sang in his tight clutch. A moment later, it disappeared and Chrom felt Falchion reappear in his sheath.
"My father's back, Lord Chrom. That should be reason enough for me to accomplish this mission."
"That... Almost makes sense." Robin muttered quietly, as the Pegasus landed right in front of the palace. "But that doesn't explain why you're still here."
Eirhenjar, the spirits summoned from cards collected in the Outrealm during their journey, were actually the stories of foreign heroes and leaders long ago and more importantly, far away. Far enough that their stories turned into legend, which the cards helped to solidify as fact, and reality, when their respective spectre was confronted.
"Gerome, Brady, Nah. Have you heard of the legend of the Binding Blade?"
"Queen Lyndis and King Eliwood's son uhh... Roy?" Brady replied hesitantly. Gerome got a map from her that read Elibe.
"He's our boy," Nah remarked coyly. With that, Morgan exhaled sharply and the three were gone.
On Morgan's desk lay Gerome's mask, Brady's violin bow, and Nah's childhood dragonstone, relics of recovery, she coined, in which there was enough of their personality and existence that she could actively trace where they were just by tapping her whole mind into the spirit realm, access granted courtesy of her father's blood. It was not too different of Tiki listening for Naga, except that Morgan would be listening for Shepherds and finding their location using their respective objects instead of their desires. Significantly harder, but Morgan would make sure every chance she took was 100% certain.
"Laurent, Yarne. Noire." The sorcerer and the Taguel stepped up to the tactician, nervously awaiting their destination. The archer merely paled behind.
"I'm sure you've read into the Genealogy of the Holy War." Laurent nodded enthusiastically.
"Of course. It only seems logical that with the dragons that bonded with the humans, none showed ill..." Yarne opened up his map, which read Jugdral. With a sharp exhale, they were gone.
They left behind Laurent's research notes and Yarne's fur, carefully stored. Noire's 'courage charm' dangled next to everything else.
"Cynthia, Kjelle, Princess Lucina. Lord Ephraim and Lady Eirika ring any bells?"
"The Legend of the Sacred Stones..." Lucina muttered quietly. To Kjelle, Eirika was a hero she always aspired to match. Meeting her in battle in the Outrealms boosted her morale infinitely. Cynthia viewed them all as legends without a doubt. Opening their map, Magvel, the last thing they heard was a sharp exhale.
Kjelle left behind her javelin, while Cynthia left one of her many texts of the Hero King. Lucina left what was left of her broken mask on the table. And a King with a worried heart, not to mention a Marc with an anxious return.
"And now the hard part. O-Owain, Inigo, Sev."
"Do Byakuya and Anya sound familiar?"
"No..."
"Uh... No."
"No.
"I'm afraid that was the case. There was this legend that mentioned to countries. No Eirhenjar, no heroes, no legends. There is only one text of its actual existence, and it mentions it only once. Likewise, the map given doesn't even tell much, just that there's Byakuya and Anya. Maybe even a third or fourth country, and I don't even know if the continent's name is in the texts. Being that the map is crap, I can't even guarantee you'll land on solid ground..." Damn, I hoped one of them could help me out with pinpointing where in the world that was...
Morgan decided not to warp them; she had too little of a coordinate, and knew too much of what would happen if she warped her friends into a nothingness or even worse, missed her mark completely and sunk them in the ocean or asphyxiated them in solid ground. She wouldn't take that risk. Especially not with Owain.
"Wait," Owain stated, knowing something Morgan didn't. Turning to Inigo and Severa, he explained happily, "Our yukatas! Such garments, that merchant Anna said were created with such immense... POWER ufufufu, anyway, doesn't yukata sound similar to the same dialect Byakuya could be? Well, at least to me. I have not the slightest whether your fabrics contained the same potential as mine own. I had to bind myself to the yukata anyway. Such a robe of sheer power could only be contained by myself, as you see. But it is not the yukata alone that granted me foresight that day we went to the springs... Do you remember the name of the elixir that Anna anointed us with to turn our hairs dark as night yet as bright as the sun?"
Inigo and Severa weren't sure how to answer this. Owain was going on another 'Sword Hand' rambles, a quirk they thought he stopped long before. Morgan must've been crazy enough to awaken it, the amount of time she spent with him.
"Uh... Hair. Dye?" Severa offered annoyed.
"Hair dye." Inigo confirmed.
"Well, lowly fools, the merchant Anna poured what she called 'Midnight Glare' on my head, and lo, our heads were as black as night yet shone like the stars! Is that a coincidence, I think not!"
"Owain, uhh, you're going way too deep on this," Inigo complained.
"No, he's right... I remember some books on Chon'Sin techniques back when I trained as a Trueblade. Enough that I can probably understand a little amount of it if they're the same dialects... I can't really break it down but Byakuya would translate to something to a White Night..." Severa began.
"Midnight Glare, White Night... Byakuya... That's one and the same! Morgan, think you can pinpoint that from what we've given?" The Pegasus Knight questioned.
"No... But that Yukata. It does sound of the same cultural dialect as Byakuya... White Night... Can you bring me your Yukatas? I know all three of you have one!"
Inigo and Owain left quickly while Severa left on her Pegasus towards the house. Owain found his rather immediately, being one of his prized possessions and all. Inigo, after a longer effort, found his at the bottom of a pile of unwanted clothes.
"White Night," Inigo ranted, "That does not even make sense." Owain shook his head in laughter as they made their way back to Morgan.
"That is because you do not understand power... You see? White Night is an oxymoron! The same impossibilities of a night being as day is the same power they put on our heads when they anointed us with that elixir! Did you not feel your blood boiling and the spirits call out to you when you donned the garb of legend?"
"No."
"A shame, it seems." Turning to Morgan, he winked at her and grinned. "Tell me, fair Morgan, that I may ask. A Night that is like day, what does it ensue?"
"Uhh... Deception?" Morgan offered. Inigo questioned their rhetoric but Owain seemed thrilled.
"IMMENSELY CORRECT. MORGAN YOU ARE BOTH POWERFUL AND KEEN... *ahem* that you would figure out the riddle of Byakuya that quickly. As I can tell, this nation seeks power by deception, much like this dragon seeking control over humanity! Who is to say that Hoshido is not the root of this evil? We must purge it and save our lands! Morgan, my love, YOU MUST FIND OUR DESTINY!"
"I will admit Owain, you piled so much BS together that it's starting to make sense..." Inigo muttered to himself. He took out his Yukata, something he hadn't worn since the Hot Springs. He handed it to Morgan to examine, likewise with Owain. Feeling something in Owain's Yukata, she pulled out a dark vial of elixir that the two men quickly recognized as the 'hair dye.'
"Be careful my love, such power in your hands and you may cease this castle's existence! Quickly, to me!" Morgan shooed him off as she read the bottom of the Elixir.
"On a path to darkness, the empty white throne?" Morgan read aloud.
"Can't say I've heard that before," Inigo admitted.
"You humble creatures, it is yet another allusion to the evil that must be stopped in Bya-"
"That's enough, Owain."
"You know, this Elixir really is just hair dye... I'm not sure whether to believe the rest of your implications, or just trust you."
"My sweet Morgan, you must trust all of us on this quest to save ourselves from everything else!" He hugged Morgan tight, and before she could help it, her breath got cut off and got replaced by her sudden exhale. Her eyes shot to the Yukatas, and Owain's Killing Edge- Mystletaine. Weren't Killing Edges the only singled edged sword in the army? Wait.
Oh no.
Inigo and Owain looked at each other before they disappeared, their yukatas still in Morgan's hands.
Oh shit.