Four

The Day After

The sunlight peaked through the fabric of a torn curtain and glared on to Lucina's closed eyes. She had been changed out of her usual uniform and into some more suitable clothing by her sister, who still sat by her side patiently awaiting her sister's awakening. Cynthia had not stepped a foot out of the room since she had entered it despite her cousin insisting that Lucina would be fine. She simply couldn't leave her sister alone. What if bandits attacked and Lucina were still asleep? Or if she had woken sorrowful and was in need of a familiar face to calm her nerves. Cynthia had a duty as a younger sister, and she was sure to fulfill it. Still... despite being so focused on Lucina, she couldn't help but wonder how things were back home.

Ylisstol was one of the only major cities that the Risen had yet to take. It's high walls and loyal guard made sure that any Risen who happened to get to close were quickly taken care of. That's not to say that the Grimleal haven't tried taking it, much to the contrary, they tried relentlessly. The problem for them was, that Ylisstol stood too proud. While other nations fell into despair, the Yilisseans led comfortable lives. That's not to say that they were oblivious as to what was happening around them, but they had faith in their leader, and so far she had not failed them.

Thinking of home reminded her of someone else she had to worry about. Her younger sister Caeda was quite the handful. And while she doubted not Sir Frederick's ability to contain her, the knight was passed his time and growing weaker by the day. The years have not been kind to that man... Cynthia Sighed and leaned back in her chair. Lucy will wake up soon... The week's just been hard on her is all. Not to mention that Grimleal freak did a number on her. Thinking of the Grimleal mage made her blood boil. She hated seeing people get hurt, but hated it even more when those people were her loved ones. She clenched her fist. She had vowed that the next time she saw Lucy- or any of her loved ones- being harmed. She would save them. She would have continued rambling on in her head, but two knocks on the door transported her back to reality.

"Cynthia, are you in there?" The stoic voice of her cousin, Owain, muffeled by the door."

"I am." Cynthia replied with slight annoyance. This had been the seventh time since she entered the room that Owain had come to the door. In truth she would not have been bothered by his company, if not for the fact that his only purpose in showing, were so he could convince Cynthia to leave the room.

"Can you open the door?" He asked solemnly

"Are you going to try and drag me out of the room again?"

Owain remained quite.

"The door's staying locked."

"Cynthia... She's going to be fine. Lucina's strong, she's survived much worse than this. The blood of the heroes is not so weak as to fall victim to such simple a injury."

"I know she isn't going to die Owain... it isn't that simple..."

"I know... but... for your own sake... just come outside. We're all worried about you. You haven't ate or slept since she fell unconscious."

"It's been but a day Owain."

"I'm going to have to break down the door, aren't I?"

"It certainly isn't going to open from this side."

…..

Owain sighed and stepped away from the door. He understood why his cousin was so insistent on remaining there... Six years prior... her mother and been poisoned while bedridden... Cynthia trusted no one but herself to look after her family thereafter. Even so... he wished she would see his side of things. Owain Stepped out of the small hut that they had made the medical centre and took in the destruction of the village once again. They had managed to burry most of the fallen over night, however, rubble filled the cobblestone streets and few buildings were left standing. The few who had survived the previous day remained with them. Most offering to join in order to avenge their loved ones, despite Owain's best trying to convince them that they'd surely meet their end. Owain understood their judgement however, he was quick to join arms with his cousin after the death of his siblings five years ago... both had been trapped in the house when it was set aflame by the Grimleal. At least he still had his mother with him, which was not something he could say for the rest of his friends...

"Uncle Owain!" A young girl ran up to him. She wore a rusted helm over her shortly cut red hair. Underneath the helm hid a pair of shining yellow eyes . He always felt hopeful when staring at them. So full of innocence, they reminded him of his early childhood. Peaceful and quaint. The girl was the daughter of a bakester they saved from a similar village some odd years back. She had quickly taking a liking to Owain and almost immediately began referring to him as "Uncle." The two had quickly become inseparable and although he would never admit so (For personal reasons.) Owain thought of her as a sister.

"Heh! Jovial as ever I see Elucianna!" He smiled and pushed the helm down in front of her eyes. "Where'd you get this thing?"

"One of the villagers gave it to me!" She pushed the helm back up. "He told me it had belonged to his brother and had kept him safe for years!"

"Oh really? Let me see it for a second." Owain grabbed the helm off her head and inspected it. "Hmmm~ I see. Woah!"

Eluciana's eyes widened. "Wh-what's wrong!?"

"This helmet... it possesses incredible power!"

"Incredible power!" She mimicked excitedly.

"Yes! While maintaining the appearance of an unkempt helm, it actually posses many magical abilities that are beyond my expertise. One thing is certain however, keep it with you always, and harm will never find you."

Her smile widened and she embraced Owain tightly. Owain smiled back. "It is not me you should be thanking. Go to the villager who gave this to you and thank them, alright?"

She nods. "As you will Uncle Owain!" With that, she put the helm back on her head and ran into the village. Owain's gaze slowly shifted away from the village and off toward the distant horizon.

The village was surrounded by an evergreen lawne which led way to massive forest which enclosed the village. He would have continued to daze off, were it not for the fact that three figures now made their way toward the village. It was hard to tell from such a distance, however, one of them appeared to be injured.

"Ho there travellers!" Owain approached cautiously, his sword-hand on the hilt of his blade. The travellers looked well worn and beaten. Two were males, one a puffy old man in a damp purple gown and the other a broad sell-sword with queerly coloured hair. The third member of the group was a red haired female with two long extravagant tails of hair flowing downward on either side of her. One of her hands was wrapped in cloth and drenched in dried blood. Based off of her attire, he came to the conclusion that she was a sell-sword as well. As Owain continued forth, the male mercenary motioned for the other two to stop and he alone continued toward Owain.

"What happened to the village?" The mercenary asked, now a few steps from Owain.

"Risen attack... What happened to you?" Owain inquired.

"Bandits." He tilts his neck and motions to the girl. You got any healers. Little lass got her hand bloodied."

"No healer." Owain sighed. "But we have medical supplies if she feels the need."

"She won't be too happy t'hear about that."

"It's all we have unfortunately."

The mercenary turned back and waved for them to approach. "This is Severa." He points to the injured mercenary. "See to it that she gets taken care of, yeah?"

Authors Notes: Sorry for the abrupt ending, I just kind of wanted to move on from this chapter to the next (Which should be out in a week or two) -Neo