A/N: Hi

The blue headed warrior's lance soared through the air time and time again, hitting every target on spot no matter the size. Ephraim tried to move quickly, not wanting to take time he wouldn't have in a real battle. Again and again, he grasped at the spare lances strapped to his back and sent each one flying through the training dummies' hearts.

Kiran watched, an impressed gleam in their half hidden expression. They sat at a distance, but had a clear view of the entire courtyard. Their Askran friends sat on the sides, watching with equal amazement.

Sweat rolled off of Ephraim's face. One more lance to go. He nimbly drew it from the satchel and turned his back to the target, his hair whipping in his eyes as he did. The onlookers seemed to hold their breaths as the prince took a breath, angled his right foot to the side, and with a swift turn-

He hit the dummy's shoulder, and the lance embedded itself in an awkward angle.

Kiran stood and clapped, along with a few others, but Ephraim released his held breath in a disappointed sigh. He remembered to wave to the summoner and Askran royals before gathering the lances and stepping to the stone sides of the courtyard.

Lyon and Eirika rushed to greet him, "Ephraim, that was amazing! I didn't know you were practicing long ranged attacks."

"Roy thought it would help me stand out more. I'm only upset that I didn't make the last one."

Lyon brushed his friend's shoulder in jest, "I don't think dislocating its shoulder and almost taking the arm off counts as a miss." It made Ephraim smile. Even Lyon couldn't help but laugh a bit at himself, realizing how different this was compared to how things had been before the war. He would have been so jealous of Ephraim's talents, but now, all he could feel was happiness for his friend.

It was still morning, so the sun was not too harsh. Morning dew still speckled the court's grass, and the chirping of birds could be heard when the surrounding noises died down. The sky's watercolor painting of blue and pink gave it a violet hue, ironically reminding Lyon of someone besides himself that wore purple.

He had not seen Valter since last night, and as the trials passed on, he wondered if he would even show. What else he could be doing, Lyon didn't know. Maybe it was for the best, as Ephraim just finished and Eirika had been a bit before him, so at least they wouldn't risk catching him in the stands, watching them like they were prey.

"Is Lyon here?" Kiran called into the people waiting on the courtyard borders. The twins excitedly ushered him forward and gave him encouraging smiles. With a weary smile of his own, Lyon made his way to the center. He nearly bowed to Kiran, but they quickly motioned him to straighten up. "Prince of Grado, there's no need to be bowing to me. I'm not royalty, or even a noble for that matter. Just a tactician, for now."

Again with the formalities he did nothing to earn. Nonetheless, Lyon nodded his head instead and produced his spell book from the satchel around his shoulder. His fingers grazed the cover, worn and stained through his experiments back in the day. He may have been dead for years, but he himself felt like he had used this book mere days ago, and he could already feel the magic energy pulsing in his palms with anticipation.

With a deep breath, he opened it to a bookmarked page. His own scribbled notes overlapped the original ancient text, but he could read it without hesitation. He muttered the incarnations under his breath, outstretched his hand, and closed his eyes.

Almost instantly, the power pulsed through his hand and swirled around him in captivating purple spirals. Lyon didn't dare open his eyes though, for fear of seeing his own demons in the magic he produced. Kiran however, leaned forward in their seat to observe the wondrous array of sparkling magic. Lyon continued sending the waves higher and higher, until they tangled themselves over his head to accumulate into an ever-growing sphere.

The hushed awes and gasps around him gave Lyon a bit of confidence, and he subconsciously increased the emissions. His chanting was faster, the pages of the book flipping hastily to keep up. He knew he had summoned enough power by now to obliterate the training dummy behind him, but the rush of euphoria he was getting from this was too good to stop just yet. The sphere grew larger and larger, and the amazement of the crowd began to turn.

"What's he doing?" Eirika whispered to Ephraim with a frown. Her brother felt something was wrong too, but he didn't want to interrupt or get in the way of Lyon's focus. He had faith that he knew what he was doing.

Lyon's lips turned into a smile, and his eyes flew open in his excitement. His own magic swirled around him to the point that he could barely see outside of it. It would have been beautiful, if only the pair of glowing white, blank eyes weren't staring at him in the magical swirls.

Hello, Prince Lyon. That voice, that echoing sinister voice, froze the warm feeling of happiness in Lyon's stomach in an instant. His eyes widened so he thought they would explode from his head, and all the nerves in his body screamed to stop this and get out now. When he tried to lower his hand, all he could do was twitch his pinky.

You didn't think I just left you, did you? This was all wrong. Fomortiis was supposed to have died with him. He didn't understand, but his brain wouldn't let him think it through. Sheer panic filled his head and adrenaline he couldn't act upon was coursing through his limbs. He could picture himself being possessed fully again, going berserk, attacking Ephraim and destroying Eirika. He had to run, stop the energy flowing through him and never ever again-

A scream pierced through his thoughts, and not a moment later the ground flew out from underneath him, a crushing weight on his chest and the sound of an explosion shaking the earth behind him.

Eirika watched on with her brother as Lyon flipped open the book she recognized from years ago and began murmuring under his breath. When they were children and Lyon was still learning, he would always show her the newest tricks and spells he acquired. She could picture him now, barely taller than her, fumbling through the oversized book and reading the ancient language with a shaky tongue.

This time was notably different, as he found his page without hesitation and struck the pose most all mages used, hand extended outwards and the book held open in the other. His magic seemed to seep out of the ground and through his bare hand, coming together in the air and swirling around its creator. It was a brilliant violet hue, matching his hair and robes perfectly. It was so him, and Eirika was excited that he owed his own power again. No more was the demon king influencing his magic and taking over his mind, and now he was free to create and live.

Her joy carried on into curiosity as the magic kept coming. A sphere of purple had formed above his head, and she waited for him to fling it at the training dummies behind him at any moment, but it just kept growing and sparking. She thought she could see a smile spread across his features, but the swirling power began to envelope him in a private barrier.

Ephraim leaned his weight forward, as if getting a few centimeters closer would let him see the answer. "Is he going to take them all out at once?" Eirika didn't answer, not knowing herself but not wanting to say it. When a streak of black came from Lyon's hand and tainted the perriwinkle swirls a darker shade, she tried to tell herself it was only a different spell Lyon was adding to it, and nothing more.

He knew what he was doing. He was free now.

The sphere was growing, nearly blotting out the morning sun. People began to clear the way, as while the courtyard was of a considerable size, this was starting to look dubious. Eirika flicked her eyes towards Kiran, but they didn't seem concerned either. It was like they knew all the answers, and could read Lyon's mind like an open book from where they sat.

Eirika was not as gifted, and the magic in front of her was getting blacker by the minute. The swirling torrent of magic around Lyon began to add itself to the monstrous cluster above. She could see him frozen in place, but his eyes were wide open and his mouth hung slack in shock like he was looking at a dead body. She wanted to help him, but she couldn't decide what to do. Should she run to him? Call him from here? It could be dangerous, he may not hear her…

The ball was pulsing, and Ephraim maneuvered around the castle pillars, ready to run out in the field. Eirika managed to grab hold of his cape before he could. "Wait, he's not himself!"

"I can see that, that's why I have to snap him out of it!"
"You don't know if that will work, and you are not fully equipped to fight. Neither am I- we only have our training equipment!"

In their arguing they failed to see the sphere splitting into beams of light, exploding into a separation of shooting stars heading towards the ground. Ephraim only had time to turn away from his sister and see Lyon, one minute standing amidst the magic rain and the next on the ground in a tangled heap of robes and hair.

Smoke and dust clouded around the courtyard, blocking most of the area from Lyon's view. He was lying on his back, facing the clouded sky and breathing in particles of dirt. He heaved a cough, struggling under the unknown weight on his torso. He didn't think to check what it was, as his ears were ringing and one thought ran through his mind.

The demon king was still inside of him. Fomortiis was alive, resurrected alongside him.

He wanted to scream, wanted to cry out for help in the terror of reliving the war and chaos he instigated years ago, but his throat was stuck and his lungs wouldn't support the endeavor. So whether it was self preservation or the shock, Lyon changed the subject in his mind and instead focused on the weight being lifted off of him, and a familiar set of charcoal eyes appearing mere inches from his own.

"Well, well, looks like the innocent Prince of Grado still has a dark side. Might want to avoid killing yourself next time, though." Valter's scratchy voice brought Lyon back to the real world, replacing the ring in his ears and motivating him to sit up.

The smoke was fading fast, and it was obvious that the field was a total mess. Large craters littered the area, smashed dummies filling their holes. Lyon couldn't help but notice the larger one where he had stood seconds ago.

"Valter, wha-"

The sharp sound of clapping echoed off the court's walls, and Lyon looked up to see Kiran standing in front of their chair. "Very impressive! I think I'll be placing you on a high ranking squadron, Lyon."

"W-wait, with all due respect-"

"Alright, we don't have all day. Valter since you're already up here, you're next."

This was too much too fast. Lyon wondered if Kiran was crazy, or just didn't understand what was going on, because it had to be something along those lines for them to act so nonchalant about the ordeal. Lyon could have easily injured someone or worse by losing control as he had. He almost did it to himself, if Valter hadn't pushed him out of the way.

And then there was that. The fact that Valter came out of nowhere like a heroic knight and saved Lyon from his own outburst. He turned his head to find that Valter was already on his feet, brushing the dirt off his armor. That completely uninterested look Lyon had grown accustomed to was on his face, but he was still staring at him. Lyon scrambled to his feet clumsily, legs shaking after everything his body had been through.

"T-thank you."

Valter huffed through his nose and waved his hand at him to go away. Lyon figured he didn't like all the sentiment, especially with people watching, which made him wonder even stronger why he even bothered saving him in the first place. Nonetheless, he messily bowed to Kiran, forgetting their earlier talk about his title, and shuffled off the field to where Eirika and Ephraim were standing, staring at him like he was a ghost.

"Lyon, are you alright?" Eirika was the first to snap out of it, patting his shoulders as if checking for wounds. Ephraim just kept looking at him, a blank stare in his eyes.

"I-I…" He didn't know what to say for a moment. How could he look Eirika in the eye and tell her that he was still a monster? He didn't want to hear it come out of his mouth, not for anyone to hear and not for him to realize that it was happening. He wanted to think he imagined it, that maybe it was only a side effect to using magic again.

It couldn't have been Fomortiis. He had only been nervous, and lost a bit of control.

"I'm fine, just a little shaken that's all," his voice was quiet and lame, but Eirika seemed to know better than to press on. Ephraim was still watching him. " should ask if you're ok. You're staring at me like I'm a demon." Lyon almost winced at his own words.

Ephraim realized how intense he must have looked, because he blinked and the color returned to his face, "I'm just trying to wrap my head around what just happened. Your magic, Kiran's reaction, Valter…" He said his name with complete disgust. "He had no reason to do what he did, and that worries me. He's a dangerous man, and if he has some kind of agenda that involves you, well it's not good. Especially when you're having trouble controlling your own magic."

"Ephraim!" Eirika scolded him, but Lyon waved her off.

"You're right. I didn't know him well in life, but here, it hasn't taken me long to get a feeling for his character. I am confused on his actions as well."

By now he had turned to watch Valter obliterating the training dummies. He swore he could hear him complaining about the lack of blood and real flesh somewhere in the massacre of fabric and straw stuffing. He didn't have much time to think on it though, because as soon as he was finished with every dummy on the field, he turned to Kiran and with expert aim, threw the lance straight at them.

Kiran flinched slightly, but as soon as it started, it was over. The lance was embedded into the wooden back of her chair, right where the top of her head had been.

Valter had a sly smile on his face, and Lyon thought he would be reprimanded, but soon Kiran was jumping from her chair and clapping excitedly, "Amazing! Absolutely awesome!" They turned to pluck the lance from the chair and bring it to Valter, not even noticing that he had brought a real weapon rather than the standard training ones they were all using.

While Lyon watched the exchange, he told himself two things; one, there was something wrong with his magic. Two, there would be a lot more things wrong if he continued to stay in contact with the devilishly smiling Moonstone warrior in front of him.