Chapter 3

The fell dragon flew overhead and beat its mighty wings, creating winds that knocked Marc off her feet. She fell onto the ground filled and knocked her hipbone into rubble. Cynthia shrieked as she and her pegasus were blown past Marc's head. All around them the recently fallen refugees rose again as grey skinned Risen, moaning and falling over one another. Ylisstol was burning.

"Get up, you craven idiots! Nah said Naga will open the portal at the temple, but only if we can get there-!" Severa shouted as she struggled back up to her feet, pigtails streaking behind her in the wind.

"We know, Severa. We were there. None of us want to be face down in the dirt right now." Inigo said with a weary grin and Severa shot him an angry look. All around them, scattered in the smoldering ruins of a city block, tiny figures stood up, heads bowed, knees crooked. Their eyes glowed like Grima and one by one they roared, adding their voices together into a deafening cacophony.

"Gods, why don't they ever shut up? You're all so annoying!" Severa screamed as she ran forward to cut down the Risen that started charging towards their prone friends. As she stood in front Marc, she cut a rather heroic form outlined in the glow from the fire with scuffed armor and a battered sword as she demanded, "Marc, get up. I'm not going to let you die eating dirt like that."

Marc gritted her teeth and pushed herself up as well. "No worries here, Severa. I got it." she chirped in a hollow imitation of her usual cheerful tone.

"Hmph. Empty headed as usual. Try to stay alive." Severa said in her biting voice even as her face betrayed relief that Marc seemed uninjured.

Around them, the winds stopped as Grima coiled above the castle and dipped its head down to the high tower. The lightning that crashed around its form and the sinuous scaled body that emitted a miasma darker than a moonless night took Marc's breath away. She fumbled to unsheathe her blade as her thin arms trembled. The mere presence of the fell dragon made the air thicker and sweat dripped down her brow. Breathing turned into ragged breaths as Grima lifted her head and for a trembling moment, Marc could see those six glowing red eyes boring into her all those miles away. She felt the brand underneath her left breast flare up in an aching itch despite the numbness of the rest of her body underneath her armor. Her dry lips parted.

And then Grima roared and all the children covered their ears as glass shattered and their bones rattled. Even the Risen cowered under their master. The children stood miles away, but they could still hear her words:

"Your father and mother are dead, little one!"

Their collective outrage galvanized the children as some screamed, others turned to charge forward, and Marc, in utter fear, realized it was only half true. Her hand had unconsciously went to clutch her side, hands digging into her ribs. She had not known true fear all her life, not until her father died and her world was plunged into uncertainty without his indomitable presence. Marc knew not how to deal with how her hands shook, how her blood seemed to pulse in her ears, and how her entire body forgot how to move, let alone fight.

"...Marc, come on!" Noire cried out as one of her arrows flew straight and true, over Marc's head to fell a Risen running towards them.

In the back of her head she could hear Papa's deep voice steadying her as he always did each time before a spar.

"When it matters, you cannot make any mistakes. Now, clear your head and try again."

Marc placed both hands on her blade, breathed in deep, and turned away from the castle.

The temple was still another three blocks from where they had been scattered. Its roof, she could see, had been blown off and only its battered walls remained. The newly Risen had began to fight with whatever they could get their hands on, usually rubble or broken tools. A brick nicked Severa in the side of her head and Marc heard her roar, "How dare you-?" before beheading the offender.

Marc dodged the projectiles, using each step to flow forward. She could visualize her father's back in front of her, like when she had, wobbling, mimicked his circling and weaving steps during her first lessons. She had practiced this footwork until her legs seized up in her sleep. He was still here now, guiding her movements, as she ducked under to the Risen's side and drove her blade through it in one forward step. It disintegrated into smoke but Marc had already stepped past it, pivoted, and glided forward to rip apart the next shambling corpse. And again. Again.

Around her she could hear the fizz and crackle of magic and sound of swords and spears driven into flesh amid the loud rumbles of the fires blazing through the city. She did not dare look back to the dragon looming over them again. Kjelle's war cry pierced through the sounds of the fight and Marc spared a glance to see her drive apart the crowd of Risen that surrounded Yarne.

"Where are they?" Laurent muttered what everyone was thinking. Cynthia kept veering into the sky as if to take off after them, only for Kjelle to call her down. They crossed the first block and then the second.

"Pathetic. If you keep getting distracted, you'll die for sure. Do you really believe Lucina wouldn't survive this?" Kjelle shouted. "Stop falling behind or she'll be long gone by the time we make it there."

"The great hero, fall behind? Hah! Not a chance. I see what you're doing, Kjelle, trying to steal all the glory for yourself. Noire, back us up. Marc, by my side! We, brothers in our sword arms, will reach the temple first." Owain crowed as Noire finished off the Risen he had struck with a quick shot to the head.

"Are you sure it is safe? Shouldn't we stay in Kjelle's formation? And did you forget that Marc is a girl again…?" Noire muttered and looked up at her friend for some sort of reaction.

Marc said nothing and her normally cheery face was grim. Even as she narrowed her focus to each Risen around her, to the thin, quivering edge of her blade, her heart had been beating out a stutter underneath that hot brand on her skin. The feeling grew each time they stepped closer to the temple. An unbelievable yearning, of desire unfocused arose in her, as if she had been confined in a stony castle for days on end and her joints crackled with unspent energy. He had to be there, waiting. There was no other explanation.

"Pahh, Kjelle isn't our tactician or our commander. What say you, Marc?" Owain came over and clapped her on her back.

She gave him a wan smile as she asked for her father's forgiveness in her head. She could not resist the call. "...can you keep up, partner?"

Her oldest friend grinned as his eyes alighted with the challenge. "Try me." Behind them, Severa and Kjelle yelled at them. With a great crackle, a nearby flaming building collapsed.

Swords ready, they charged forward.

Lucina was sure that she had been devoured. For a moment, she had met that unconquerable darkness with Falchion, eyes tearing up and wide with fear. Then she had flinched and she was pulled away by a force into what she believed to be death. Only did Grima's roars of rage made her look up.

"Hang on tight!" Nah's ringing voice vibrated through her bright scales and Lucina realized she was flat on Nah's spiny back. To her right, Gerome and Brady with his rescue staff streaked away as the fell dragon hurled noxious flames large enough to engulf buildings at them. Lucina lashed herself to Nah's back and neck as they too began to dive and weave away from Grima's wrath. The fumes wafted up and created strong updrafts that Nah's wings struggled against. She was no wyvern and rolled, twisted, and lunged through the air without hesitation in order to cut across the sky. Lucina felt her arms and legs chafe against Nah's scales, but only clung on tighter as Nah flared her wings in a heart stopping brake and then shot forward in a barrel roll to avoid Risen archers.

"I can see the temple! We're almost there-" Lucina cried out and then to her horror, she saw Gerome and Brady fall in a streaking arc earthbound.

"Should I go after them?" Nah shouted back and the degree of uncertainty in her voice made Lucina pause in her shaken state.

Then Gerome crashed into the ground with Minerva. Risen were blown back around them and Brady had tumbled down onto the hard dirt. Seeing Gerome limp in his saddle and Brady look around the crowd of Risen with fear in his eyes, Lucina quickly made her decision. "I won't let another person die on my watch." Lucina commanded and together, she and Nah shot to the streets.

With a roar, Nah sprayed the Risen with blinding ice and Lucina jumped down to the ground, Falchion at ready. She could see Brady's shoulders shaking as he kept his head down and his focus on healing Gerome. A Risen barbarian roared and raised his axe above Brady's prone form. Lucina charged and threw her entire weight behind her swing. She cleaved the one aiming for Brady from head to toe and whirled around to rip apart another Risen, scattering them into purple smoke. Behind her, Minerva lunged for the undead soldiers and crunched them between her teeth. Lucina parried an incoming axe and was sent skidding back.

"Duck!" Nah cried out and, as Lucina dropped low to the ground, a blast of icy dragonbreath felled that Risen.

"Lucina! Ya done saved our asses." Brady cried out and a sniff escaped his voice.

"How's Gerome? Can we move him?" Lucina yelled over her shoulder as Falchion whistled through the air and impaled another Risen. They seemed unending, made from the bodies of her civilian subjects, and Lucina kept one eye on the horizon where Grima swirled in the sky. It would not be long before the fell dragon realized they were down there.

"He broke his ribs. I'm almost done with them. But don't ask me 'bout the dragon- I don't know the first things about healing lizards." Brady said.

"Minerva… is not a lizard." Gerome grunted in protest as he tried to rise.

"Oy, save that stupid macho stunt after we get out of here. You're gonna mess up all the ribs I just reset!" Brady protested.

"Enough! Can we move him? We need to get to the temple now- before it is too defiled for Naga to perform the ritual!" Nah roared and in her dragon form, it shook the ground.

Minerva understood and lowered her neck down. As Nah held off the scattered Risen, Brady and Lucina fastened Gerome into the saddle. "I'll ride with him so he doesn't fall off. Besides, I'm useless on the ground anyway." Brady said and Lucina thanked him. Before Minerva took off, however, Gerome grabbed Lucina's wrist.

"Here. Before there isn't any more time. For the future. Your eyes will give it all away when you meet them." he said. In his other hand was a blue lacquered butterfly mask with gold swirling designs. Lucina took it hesitantly. She had not seen such beauty in a long time and she knew he had fashioned it himself. Nothing like this had been crafted for years.

"Thank you. I will wear this proudly." Lucina said and Gerome let go of her to lean limply back against Minerva.

"I'll see you in the future, Marth." Gerome muttered.

"Listen to him, he's delirious!" Brady exclaimed. "That fall must have been worse than I thought. Better hurry- we'll follow you in the sky."

Lucina stepped back as Minerva took off. A trickle of blood hit the cobblestone and it pained Lucina when she realized the wyvern had ignored her own injuries to bear her master to safety.

Nah retreated to Lucina's side and dropped back down into her humanoid form amid a burst of iridescent petals. Her face was slick with sweat. "Holding that form for that long was a little more difficult than I expected." She said as she bent over her knees and gasped for breath, "I cleared out most of this block, so just...give me a moment, Lucina."

"Thank you, Nah. I would have been eaten by now if you didn't save me. Stay close to me." Lucina said.

To free her hands, Lucina sheathed Falchion. Then, careful not to damage the piece of art, Lucina pulled back her hair and snapped on the mask. The eye slits were not as narrow as she thought they would be, but her peripheral vision did suffer a bit. She tucked her hair down her collar so it would not billow around and get caught in the angles of the butterfly wings. Then, she pulled out Falchion again and something felt different with the blade in her hand.

"You look like a boy, Lucina. A young noble lord." Nah remarked as she straightened up.

Deepening her voice, Lucina said, "This may be a good disguise yet." Nah looked faintly amused, which meant she thought it hilarious. They took off, not willing to tarry in the Risen filled streets much longer. As Lucina ran, behind the mask, a sense of liberation filled her lungs and it allowed her to focus on the pumping of her legs and the weight of Falchion. She would not fail. There was no alternative.

"Lucy, is that you? You're okay." Cynthia's shriek managed to cut through the din of a falling city and Lucina looked up to see the pegasus knight trot next to her in the air. "I'm so relieved. Also, cool mask!"

"What about everyone else?" Lucina called back.

"All good here. Nothing that's gonna stop us. They're coming up the east end. Owain, Marc, and Noire rushed ahead though- Kjelle wouldn't let me follow them. But they're fighting on the temple steps now. The entire building is infested with Grimleal!" Cynthia said.

"No... don't tell me they know." Nah whispered as her brow furrowed. "We're running straight into an ambush at this rate."

"We can take them. As long as everyone is still alive and we still have this hope-" Lucina insisted.

"Listen, Lucy, I want you to run for the portal the moment it's opened." Cynthia said and the upward cheer of her voice could not dampen the heaviness of her statement. "This hope is you. Not any of the rest of us. We'll try to follow, if we can, but no matter what happens, you have to promise you'll make it to the past. Even if that means leaving the rest of us behind."

"No, Cynthia-" Lucina exclaimed as she nearly tripped over her own feet.

"You're the one always telling me I need to think of the future and prepare for the worst! Please, promise a sister in arms this. Our parents gave our lives for this hope of defeating Grima once and for all. Mom died a hero. I don't intend to be outshone like that!" Cynthia said and now her voice quavered despite her earnest eyes.

Nah looked at Cynthia with a new quiet respect. "I echo Cynthia's sentiments. And I think you'll find each and every one of your friends will say the same. Lucina, you are Chrom's best chance in the past." she said.

"I cannot accept this!" Lucina protested. "Promise me that you'll do everything in your power to return to the past with me. I want you all alive and with me. We did not survive this hell together for you to lay down your lives like this."

"Let's talk about this later." Nah said with a deadpan voice. Lucina turned to her in surprise and anger. There was nothing to discuss and certainly not a later to speak of. But when Nah pointed to the Grimleal filing out of the side doors of the temple, Lucina let her emotions calm and readied Falchion. "I believe we have company."

"Is that...? I think our exalted cousin has returned to us! With a new and improved look as well. That mask must hold the key to unlocking the power of the sacred mariposa-" Owain exclaimed as he stared around the corner.

"Blood and thunder, pay attention, you narrating dolt!" Noire roared as her arrows pierced the half-dead mage Owain had not finished off.

"Egads... My thanks, good comrade Noire-" Owain began again, but focused on cutting down the cavaliers now aiming for them.

Marc stabbed through another sorcerer and, after checking his face, pushed away his limp body in disgust. The dissipating waste spell glanced off her face, another shallow cut over the many she had been accumulating. Her fighting style was becoming frantic and she had suffered a number of slight blows from her constant attempts to push forward into the temple. "I'm not interested in you." She growled as she finished the gasping sorcerer on the ground with a quick stab to the jugular.

What was worse was that the Grimleal, who did not evaporate into smoke like the Risen, were beginning to form a barricade just from their own fallen bodies. Each time they thought they had cut down everyone in the doorway, several more appeared.

Marc kicked away another body so she could have even footing as the next warrior charged at her. She caught the axe with the edge of her blade, deflected it, and lunged with a battlecry. The Grimleal warrior was quick enough to redirect his force and slammed Marc's sword arm with his shoulder. She stumbled backwards, fingers numb on the hilt, and nearly fell off the steps. Her knees shook as she lowered her into the best stance of evasion, fingers just inches away from the ground. She saw red and knew exactly where to swing her sword next, to rip a wound from hip to neck.

"I got you!" Noire's quivering voice interrupted her concentration as her arrow found its target in the warrior's arm. A second arrow hit his leg. With a growl of pain, the warrior turned and charged at Noire. The two arrows in his limbs seemed to hardly slow him down.

"Predictable bastard! " Marc snarled. She sprung off the steps and, in a single bound, leapt onto the warrior's back, driving her blade through the crack in his armor and sending him crashing the ground. Her knee dug into the small of his back and Marc felt his quiver in death throes before going limp. As she stood back up, Owain covered her and cut down the archer hiding the corner aiming for them.

"Oh, thanks…" Noire said as she stared at Marc with wide eyes and pale lips. "That was scary, but impressive."

"Didn't mean to scare you like that." Marc apologized as she stood up. The bloodlust had faded and it left Marc feeling flustered and out of place. "I...uh, probably made you stress out right there." She wanted to run her hands through her hair as her embarrassment rose to her cheeks. Instead, she busied herself with retrieving her sword. She drew it out of the corpse's back and swung the blood off the blade.

They turned back to the door. Owain had finished off the last of them and Marc could see into the rubble of the temple. It looked empty. "Is it actually over?" Noire ventured.

"Hoy, our friends approach! And do they not see we have heroically secured the temple for them?" Owain announced.

"Really, Owain? Do you know how many Risen soldiers you breezed past? They would have pincered you if we didn't beat them all back." Inigo said with a cheeky grin. As they fell into an oddly normal routine of bickering, Lucina rounded the corner with Cynthia and Nah in tow.

"Everyone. You're all alive. Thank the gods."

"You sure took your sweet time, Lucina. We even picked up these two useless lumps. They were so craven as to leave you behind." Severa said with a sniff as she gestured to Gerome and Brady.

"I'm glad to see you too, Severa." Lucina said with a warm yet weary smile. Severa turned her head away with a grunt.

"Marc, you're wounded all over the place! Stay still." Brady said as he rushed to Marc's side.

"Was I? Oh, this is quite a lot of cuts, isn't it?" Marc examined her ripped clothes and the smeared blood over her body with a disinterested stare. For some reason, the feeling she had that her other half had been in this temple had disappeared within the midst of battle and disappointment settled in her blood. The brand almost felt cold as Brady's healing magic tickled her wounds and sealed them shut.

"We don't have time to sit here and have tea! Nah, the portal?" Kjelle demanded.

"Yes…Naga will need Falchion as a binding agent of sorts. Let's head into the temple and we can perform the rite-" Nah's voice was cut off as Grima's roar rattled the streets again.

"Everyone, inside the temple!" Lucina cried out as the children saw the fell dragon begin to move, unfurling itself towards them.

"Why does it matter- the roof is gone! He'll spot us and eat us whole!" Yarne cried out but they ran in regardless.

"Marc, let's go." Noire grasped Marc's arm and tried to pull her along. When she did not budge, Noire looked back with fearful eyes. "What are you doing?"

A wave of nausea had crashed in front of her eyes and she could feel sweat run anew down her temple. At the far end of the street, a hooded figure leading an army of Risen marched their way. They were too far for Marc to identify any details but as her blood sung, she knew.

"You oughta join the others. Hey, I'll hold them off. Call me when the portal is ready." Marc said and flashed one of her empty-headed smiles, as Severa called them.

"What, that's- that's madness! You're not even a range attacker-" Noire said.

"I've gotten pretty good at throwing knives lately." Marc tried to joke. When Noire tugged her arm more insistently, Marc let her nonchalance drop. "Noire. Please. Join the others for me. I…I need to do this."

"What could you possibly gain from charging down an entire Risen army by yourself except for your death? Marc, you're scaring me!" Noire's voice started to reach hysteria and on instinct, Marc embraced her. Their armor clattered together and Marc was careful to avoid spearing her face on Noire's shoulder guard. She reached one hand to Noire's hair and the other looped around her waist. Noire shuddered against her lanky frame and buried her sniveling nose into Marc's hair.

"Promise you'll never tell anyone. Promise on your talisman!" Marc demanded. It was a low blow but Noire nodded against her neck.

Marc let go of Noire and pointed to the approaching army as if she was pointing out constellations in the sky.

"Do you see him? At the front of the army. His name is Morgan. He's my twin, Noire, and I need to meet him. Just once before we go to the past and all of this is erased from existence forever. I've wanted this my entire life. Everyone wants to go back to the past and meet their parents, but the person I want to see most in the world is right there." she said and as she confessed this for the first time in her life, the heavy weight on her chest dissipated. It was absurd. She could raise her hands and wave to him across the street if she wanted to.

"I see… Wait, no I don't! Your brother is Grimleal? But you've never met him before? Marc-!"

"You promised me. Now get inside the temple. I'm not the only one that cares about you! You want to meet your mom and dad again, don't you? And if you hold the same affection for me that I do for you, you'll let me do this." Marc said.

Noire wavered, biting her lip, and her eyes flitted back down the street and into the temple. Seeing her face in distress made Marc feel incredibly guilty, but she stood firm.

"...you promise me this. That you won't die out there and you'll come to the future with us. I know you miss your father just as much…" Noire finally conceded. "Oh gods, I'm so useless. I can't even convince you to not do this-!"

Marc acknowledged she deserved that low blow and the subsequent passive aggressiveness. With a light-hearted smile, she nodded. "You bet. It's a promise."

Once the door to the temple, as battered as it was, closed behind Noire, Marc turned to face the gathering army. She could clearly see Morgan, tome clutched in his hand and the hood of his Grimleal robes pulled down low. With a faint laugh, she realized he was shorter than her.

She sucked in a deep breath, prayed to her father for his strength, and, brandishing her sword in a gleaming arc, shouted, "Morgan, son of Lon'qu and Haura, I am here!"


A/N: Pssst I drew my own fanart because I'm a dork. It's here: goo.(gl)/R04KDB