After a minor skirmish with a handful of Risen that Lucina had made short work of, she and Pit arrived at their base hidden in a few mountain caves near Ylisstol. It was lit by fires and torches, making Pit a slight bit uncomfortable even over a thousand and two hundred years after he had experienced losing his wings to fire. But he did his best not to let it show as he followed Lucina through the caverns where soldiers were sharpening weapons and working to better themselves. Some were treating their allies' injuries while others were keeping stock or cooking. But they all seemed entirely overwhelmed with relief at the sight of their leader's return.
"Oh, dear cousin!" Owain called as he hurried over with another young swordsman and a woman in heavy armor following. "How my sword hand boiled with the thought of vengeance when I realized you had not come back to us. Oh, how that dragon's fellblood would be spilled! What fury I would unleash upon him! He would rue the day he ever-"
"Yes, it's good to see you too, Owain," Lucina interrupted.
"Thanks for finally shutting him up," the other swordsman laughed. "He wouldn't stop going on about revenge and how his mighty sword hand would be the end of Grima and everything. It was getting annoying."
"Why, Inigo!" Owain scoffed. "Were you not shedding rivers of tears from your eyes when you realized she had not returned?" Inigo blushed and glared at his companion.
"The point is, you're back," the woman spoke up. "We cannot face Grima without you, Lucina."
"I know, Kjelle," Lucina dipped her head. "But I'm here, thanks to this young man." She stepped aside and gestured to Pit, who smiled sheepishly and waved.
"And who do we have here?" Inigo wondered.
"He saved you?" Owain asked with a tone of disbelief. "Tell me, sir! What great and destructive technique did you use to fend off the Fell Dragon? I see no weapon with you! That is simply unjust!"
"Barring his nonsense about weapons and souls and all that," Kjelle agreed, "Really. Who are you? How did you escape Grima?"
"If you'll let me speak," he began, "My name's Pit. And… well, I'm really hard to kill. Where a cat has the advantage of size, a mouse is smaller and harder to catch. It's like that." None of them seemed entirely convinced, but no one pushed the argument further.
"Anyway," Lucina continued, "Where's Morgan? Did he make it out of the battle?" None of her three companions looked too pleased. "Oh no. What happened?"
"Oh, no, that Grimleal is fine," Inigo scoffed. "Cynthia and Severa are standing guard outside his tent." Lucina scowled at him and rested one hand on her hip.
"Inigo, please! You know Morgan is my brother, and that means the blood of the Exalt runs through him. The mark on the back of his hand is proof enough, isn't it?"
"To think that one I share such Exalted blood with would betray us!" Owain argued. "He has disgraced us, Mother, Uncle Chrom, and the Hero-King himself!"
"Owain, ENOUGH!" Lucina ordered, and Pit shifted his weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other. "You speak of Morgan as if he still fights with Grima. He joined us willingly, and you know it. I believe that he had a good reason for joining with the Grimleal, whatever it may be. And I will not sit idly by as you speak ill of the Ylissean prince." She paused and sighed heavily. "Now, I need to go speak with him, if you'll be so kind as to excuse me." She turned around to face Pit. "Perhaps you should come with me for now so I don't have to listen to this nonsense."
"Very well," he nodded, and she hurried off without another word to her other companions, though Pit could hear them mumbling something he couldn't make out.
"I'm so sorry that you had to witness that," Lucina grumbled as he followed her. "It's true, my brother did fight under Grima's banner for some time. I don't know why he did, but he came back to us willingly and wants to fight."
"I believe just about anyone can find light in themselves," Pit smiled. "Even those who seem born of darkness."
"I want to believe that too," she agreed. "And I don't doubt Morgan's intentions. As for some of the other people out there, I'll never know." She sighed again as they came across a tent where two young women stood guard, one with a sword sheathed behind her back and the other holding a spear. "Pit, these two are Severa and Cynthia. Severa is scary when she's got a sword in her hand and in the right mood, and Cynthia is a Pegasus Knight."
A what? Pit wondered in his mind, but figured it was best not to ask.
"Impressive," he said instead.
"So who's this chump?" Severa wondered with a scowl. "New recruit?"
"Basically," Lucina confirmed.
"Wow!" Cynthia marveled. "I thought pretty much anyone who could fight was either already with us or…" her upbeat smile faded. "Or with those damned Grimleal."
"Yeah, speaking of damned Grimleal," Severa went on, "I'm gonna guess you're here to see that Fellblood?" Even in the short time he'd known her, Pit could already tell by how rigid she was that Lucina was fighting back an outburst of anger. "Seriously, Lucina, how could you so willingly let him into our camp? At least chain him up somewhere!"
"My brother is NOT a prisoner!" Lucina snapped. "And I would see him now. So both of you, find something useful to do rather than stand around for no reason." The girls looked at each other, and each seemed ready to argue, but Lucina would have none of it. "Go!" They both left at her order to different destinations, and she rested her hand over her nose and mouth for a moment.
"I wonder if something happened," Pit pondered. "Did they act like this before?"
"I knew they weren't exactly pleased about him coming," Lucina replied. "But no, they weren't this openly hostile. But… even if I didn't see the real effects of it, I know our last battle was more akin to a slaughter. Perhaps that has something to do with it." She shook her head. "Will you wait out here for me?"
"Sure, princess," he nodded. "Take your time."
"Thank you, Pit." With that, she drew back the front flap of the tent and entered, letting it fall behind her.
What she found inside was a boy, maybe three years her younger, sitting on a crate with his hands folded and his arms braced against his legs as he stared at the air in front of him. He had blue hair like her with bangs that framed his face and fell between his eyes, cut at the nape of his neck. He wore a dark coat trimmed in gold with a dark purple eye pattern on the sleeves and a cowl hanging down his back, though she couldn't recall ever seeing him wear it up. His brown-green eyes were dulled as he vacantly watched time go by, and she could see reflected in them the pain he felt. But at the sound of her entry, he looked up and stood.
"Sister…" He started to advance toward her, but stopped suddenly until she smiled and spread her arms. Almost at once, he seemed to transform into an entirely new person as he raced over and hugged her tightly. This was the Morgan only she was familiar with: a scared child trying to find his place in the world and facing adversity on all sides. She knew he tried to hide his pain from the others, but it seemed he'd given up on keeping it from her.
"It's okay, Morgan," she said softly. "Don't listen to them. They don't know what they're talking about."
"Yes, they do," he protested and stepped back. "Lucina, I… I never meant to betray Father or anything. But… I…" he looked down. "Grima said that if I behaved, then I would be able to see Mother again."
This was news to Lucina. She had always known that he had been closer to their mother than him, just as she had been to their father. She couldn't be angry for him wishing to find her again. But Grima himself had said that their mother was dead. Unless he was lying, which didn't surprise her… but she hadn't seen their mother for near ten years.
"Maybe it was just a stupid wish," Morgan sighed. "But I miss her, Lucina. I'm sure you do too." Lucina nodded. "I figured… maybe if I could find her and save her, then she could come back and help us. You know she was always an infinitely better tactician than I am. I hoped she would help you lead us to victory."
"I wouldn't want anything more," Lucina agreed. Morgan's grave expression worried her.
"But…" he choked, "Mother is gone, Sister. She's not coming back. And by the time I'd realized it, I didn't know what to do."
"So he was telling me the truth…" she lamented. "Mother really is dead…" Her brother hugged her again. "But I understand why you went with them. And you're back with us now, and that's all that matters."
"Except no one will give me a chance!" he cried. "No one follows the strategies I come up with, and then we get results like the last battle. When they'd told me you hadn't come back… Gods, Lucina, I felt like I was going to vomit! And they kept blaming me for not being there to help you, said my strategy was faulty and didn't work. But it doesn't help when they don't do what I tell them! And when I do try to help, Owain just gets mad at me and tells me to go away. Then he gets mad when I'm not there." He sat down again and looked at the ground. "What am I supposed to do to prove they can trust me if they won't give me a chance?" Lucina took the question as her chance to inform him of her plan.
"Perform the Awakening with me," she replied, and he looked up at her with a dumbfounded expression. She took his right hand in hers and pushed back his sleeve, revealing the same brand that she bore in her left eye. "You're Chrom's son and a descendant of the Hero-King, Morgan. Naga will respond to us if we call her together, and then she'll give us the power to stop Grima. Then no one will be able to claim you are loyal to the Fell Dragon." He still didn't seem entirely convinced, but nodded anyway as she released his hand.
"So you want to take the Emblem and head for Mount Prism, then," he realized.
"Yes. Do you think we can get there safely?" He frowned and turned to the crate, pulling it open and retrieving a map from inside. He spread it out overtop and studied it carefully.
"Perhaps," he replied. "But… it would take a very daring move and we would have to divide our army. The main part would have to draw off any of Grima's forces while a small team actually goes to Mount Prism. As soon as Naga is awakened, Grima will know about it, and it would help if we had a little time before he came crashing in to stop us." She looked at the map and frowned.
"How small a team are we talking about?" she asked, and he thought it over for a moment.
"Given the overall size of our army, probably… fifteen or so at the most." Lucina stared at him.
"You would have us go to Mount Prism with a measly FIFTEEN people?!" she demanded. "That would be suicide!"
"Lucina, listen to me," Morgan pleaded. "Grima WILL follow us. If he knows we're going to Mount Prism, then he'll do everything in his power to stop us. We can't have him catch on, and a small force won't draw his attention." Though she still had her doubts, he could see his logic- the same logic their mother was famous for using.
"…Very well," she surrendered. "Fifteen people, and they'll have to be our very best in case we do run into trouble. You, Owain, and I will have to be part of that team. Then Inigo, Severa, Cynthia, Kjelle, and Gerome… Laurent has a great knowledge of the Awakening itself, so we'll need him, and Nah's power would be indispensable." She smiled slightly and sighed. "We might as well take the usual team with us."
"So all of them, plus Yarne, Brady, and Noire?" Morgan guessed, and Lucina nodded. "Okay. Who else?"
"We'll figure it out after we explain the plan. And anyway, I think there's someone you should talk to." She gestured for him to follow her, and they both exited the tent. "Morgan, this is Pit." Pit smiled and dipped his head. "He's the one who saved me from Grima." Morgan stared at the new recruit.
"You faced Grima?" he asked in disbelief, and Pit nodded. "And you're still alive. AND you saved my sister." He took hold of Pit's hand and shook it vigorously. "I cannot, CANNOT, thank you enough, Pit." Pit shook his head after he reclaimed his hand.
"I'm just doing what needs to be done," he replied. "But it's a pleasure to meet you, Morgan." He fell silent as he watched the boy, surprised by how young he was. "If you don't mind…" he reached his hand out and lightly touched Morgan's chest. Morgan briefly squeaked in protest, but didn't withdraw. After a moment of focus, Pit smiled. "There's a bright light in you," he said. "Just like Lucina."
"Y-you can tell that?" Morgan asked. "How?"
"It's just part of my power, I guess," Pit replied cryptically as he thought over his options.
"Power?" Lucina echoed. "Pit… just who are you?" He turned to her and took a deep breath.
"Lucina, I came to help you. I have made it my duty to assure the humans survive and prosper. And I'm here to oversee your progress and see if you can stop Grima. But, rest assured, I will help you as long as you'll have me." The siblings watched him with blank, disbelieving stares.
"That's how you got away from Grima," Morgan realized, and lowered his voice. "You…You're not just some ragtag rebel."
"I can't say I am." Pit smiled mysteriously and turned his gaze to Lucina. "I'm here to help, princess. Give me a bow, and I'll gladly help you as best I can." After a moment, she nodded.
"I'm definitely taking you to Mount Prism," she decided. "Okay, Morgan. Let's go gather the troops and let them know the plan."
