Disclaimer: Poor, ain't own nothin'

Also, I suppose it's fair warning that I may say things that some people may find offensive. Maybe. I don't know. I'm just being cautious. Just remember that most of Zach interjects with is sarcastic and meant to be used in humor. No offense meant.

"Remind me," I said, leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees as I peered past the man sat in front of me, "how does this whole thing work and when do I fight?"

We were in the Arena Ferox, sat in the middle rows of the stands. It was warm, and the smell of alcohol filled the air, even though the fights hadn't started yet. Robin had given a brief description of how this would go, but I was blanking. Next to me sat Stahl and Sumia, neither of whom would be participating in the battle.

"It's a one-on-one tournament," Stahl said, yawning. The tournament took place just past dawn, and many of the Shepherds, myself included, had to be woken up early to get ready. His hair was styled as it usually was: messily. He wasn't wearing is armor. He was dressed in an olive green shirt and gray pants. "Two people fight, one moves on to participate in the next round and so on."

Something clicked in my mind. "Right, right. I'm the fourth match, I'm pretty sure." I wasn't sure who was all participating from the Shepherds aside from Chrom, Robin, and myself. Maybe Frederick. "Will I have to fight one of us?" Ugh, I was tired. I did not sleep well last night.

"If you both win."

Hmm. Another fight with Chrom would not be pleasant, especially since we were using real weapons, and he had Falchion. Robin wouldn't be fun, either. I was sure she was using magic and swords. Frederick was straight up terrifying, too. None of the Shepherds would be an easy match.

The actual Arena looked like you would expect: Round, the circumference lined with rows upon rows of stone seats. The entire room was made of stone, sans the center, which was a circle of sand. Two doors were on either side of the pit, where I suspected the two combatants would enter from. There was no daylight coming in; the entire Arena was indoors, and the only light offered was torchlight, though there was an abundance of it. Sight would not be a problem.

With the beat of hidden drums, the tournament began. Cheering and shouting erupted from the crowd, only dying down when the doors lifted open and the combatants stepped out. The first two were some guy in armor and Frederick. Both were wielding spears. I suspected that this match would be over quick.

Frederick and the knight walked closer and bowed, then hefted their spears into a firm grip. The two stared at each other, and silence fell. Then, the knight charged forward, bellowing a deep battle cry. Frederick made no noise, and the bang of steel on steel rang throughout the room as Freddy ducked under the knight's swing and smashed his own spear against the fool's chest plate. The knight fell to the ground with a crash and a spearhead at his throat. I smirked at the speed of the match and how Freddy was blatantly stronger. This were going well.

I jumped when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Dylan standing on the row behind me. "Chrom was looking for you," he said. "Something about getting down to the waiting room and preparing for your match?"

"Oh shit, thanks." I stood up and skirted down the row until I reached the stairs and ran to the prep room. If all of the matches went anywhere close to the fast, I was going to be late for mine. I rounded the corner and almost bumped into a girl in a cleric's outfit. I didn't pick up any more details, as I apologized and sprinted past her. The halls were dead quiet. The only sounds were my footsteps, echoing through the stone hall. I skidded to a stop at the prep room door and slammed it open. Chrom was stood just inside the door, his hand reaching to open it when I did so. "What's up?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.

He cracked a smile and said, "Get ready." He walked past me. "Robin's fighting now, then it's me, and then you." I nodded. The prep room was bland; there were no decorations or furnishing, but there were racks for armor and weapons. I picked through the swords. They were all iron, I believed, but not all of the exact same shape or weight. I chose a lighter one; the others would slow me down, and I felt like a lighter blade would complement my style, whatever that was at the moment.

I was antsy, pacing around the room trying to expel the energy that flooded my legs as I prepared for the match. I was really, really nervous. It was something I hadn't felt in a long time, at least not to this extent. I had to wipe the sweat from my hands twice. I didn't want to mess up, to fail and let the others down. The door opened and I jumped a little, but tried to collect myself by the time Robin walked in. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," she said, setting her sword on the rack. "I won." She sighed, but smiled. "I was against another mage, so I held the advantage with my sword."

"Who's Chrom against?"

"I think it's an axe-user." Figures. Of course Chrom gets the weapon advantage for his battle. But then, he also had to fight 'Marth' later. Or was that still a thing? "You should get going," she said suddenly. "You don't want to be late to your match."

"Right."

"Good luck, Zach."

"Thanks," I smiled, and left the room, tightening my headband. I walked to the grated door that led to the arena. I could see Chrom fighting against the axe-user inside. The prince was having trouble, as his foe was clumsy with his hefty weapon. Chrom was holding back, it seemed. I was sure he didn't aim to kill, while the fighter was swinging with abandon. Right. I had to remind myself that there would be no death today. Force them into submission, spill blood if necessary, but don't kill them.

An eruption of cheer snaps me from my thoughts, and I shake them away. The fighter was on the ground, his axe several yards away and Falchion at his throat, like Frederick did with the knight. The cheer escalates for a moment as Chrom raises Falchion above his head, light glinting off of it and making the blade seem to shine. Chrom made his way to the door and it started to rise with a grinding noise. "Good job, Chrom," I said, and clasped his hand when he got close. "That's three wins, then. So even if I lose, three of you are moving on to next round!"

"Thanks," said the prince. "But don't think of it like that. Say that it gives the opportunity for all four of us to progress." Yeah, that would be the more optimistic outlook. "Good luck out there," he said, clutching a hand to my shoulder. I felt the infinite charisma flow from his smile as he did, radiating like the light from the sun, which I didn't hesitate to bask in.

I blinked and thanked him, and he walked away. What the hell was that? I shook my head and took a deep breath, walking out just as my opponent did. I…he looked familiar. I squinted, trying to get a better look at him through the bright light coming from above us. He DID look familiar. It was that asshole guard from that night when I slept in the library! I recognized his bored expression and his hairstyle wasn't something I'd forget. Ohoho, you know what? I was looking forward to this match. I wasn't even mad anymore, but it was the principle. The guy was abrasive, and I was looking forward to knocking him on his ass.

At least, that's what I was thinking before he pulled the spear from his back. I blanched when I saw it, and my hopes dropped, dwindling. "Aw, for fuck's sake," I muttered. The cheers drowned out my voice, but I drew my sword and settled into my usual stance. Just my fuckin' luck.

Dylan POV~

I sat in the stands, arms crossed across my chest. Chrom's match was rather boring. The prince held the advantage the entire match. It shouldn't have even taken that long. When he won, the cheering was immense, and only increased when he turned to face the crowd with Falchion reflecting the light from the torches. Sumia was among the most enthusiastic cheerers, jumping to her feet and pumping her fist while crying out at the top of her lungs. When Chrom left the Arena, she dropped back down to her seat.

Zach was next. "That's three wins," Lissa cheered next to me. Frederick was sat next to her, silent and staring down at the sandy arena floor, his hands on his lap. "When Zach wins, all four of our fighters will have won the first round!" True enough. Though there were a lot more matches to go. I saw 'Marth', Lon'qu, and a few other intimidating figures standing on the sidelines, watching the matches. I suspected they were competing after the Shepherds, and I had no doubt they would proceed to the next round. Our Shepherds had their work cut out for them later, considering how much of a breeze this round had been so far.

Zach and his opponent stepped out onto the floor at almost the same time. I froze when I saw what he was up against; Zach's opponent was a lance-wielder. That left him with a disadvantage from the start, and the soldier carried himself with no hesitation or break in his stride, holding a calm demeanor that showed he knew what he was doing, or at the very least wasn't playing around.

When the soldier pulled the spear from his back, I could see Zach's shock. His hand rose slowly to grab his weapon, but he held the blade steadily once it was free. "Good," I muttered, leaning forward on my knees, hands folded in front of my mouth. He had to keep up a strong front, even in the face of this disadvantage. The soldier wasn't impressed, gripping his spear with both hands and pointing it at Zach.

Zach and the soldier began to circle each other. The room had gone silent again, anticipation building as the two kept their slow dance going. Suddenly, Zach leaped forward and swung down using his momentum. The soldier knocked the strike aside with a heavy swing of his spear, then lashed out with his fist. The blow connected, and Zach reeled.

The soldier stabbed at him, and Zach narrowly avoided it. The soldier kept going, jabbing and poking in an onslaught that kept Zach on edge, pushing him further from the center of the pit. Zach found himself at the wall, back up against it. The soldier wound back for another stab, and Zach took the opportunity, tackling him to the ground.

Both of them scrambled around, punching and pushing at the other. The soldier won the little altercation, kicking Zach away and lunging for his spear. The soldier recovered first, getting to his feet. Zach grabbed his sword and hopped to his feet as well, but not in time to avoid the soldier's jab.

The spear cut across Zach stomach, and I heard Lissa gasp. My leg was bouncing in anticipation as we watched the fight. Zach made a desperate flurry of swings that pushed the soldier a few feet away as the myrmidon gathered his bearings. The cut along his belly was bleeding, but the pace was slow enough to not be of too much immediate concern. But it would slow him down. The soldier didn't give him any more time, running in and stabbing with that motion.

Zach moved at an unbelievable speed, just as fast as the day we met on the Longfort. In a spinning whirlwind, Zach danced around the jab and jumped to the air with a slash. It connected! Zach's sword sliced upward, cutting along the soldier's torso. The soldier stumbled backward, holding his spear in a loose grip and clutching at his new wound.

Zach's wound was bleeding worse now. His rapid movement and twisting couldn't' have helped. He was almost doubled over, clutching at his gut. His breath was so labored, I could see his chest heaving in rhythm. Even now that the soldier was wounded, too, I feared this battle was coming to a close, and not in the way we wanted.

They moved toward each other, and Zach swung at the soldier's head. He had a moment of hesitation, I noticed, and his sword twisted mid-swing so that the flat of the blade was flying toward the soldier. Zach's hesitation gave the soldier all the time he needed, and he stepped behind the myrmidon. In a quick move, the soldier dropped his lance and Zach was caught off-guard, pulled to the ground, and put into a hold.

Zach struggled against the soldier's grasp, shouting and straining for freedom, but to no avail. Eventually, he gave up and tapped onto the soldier's arm. They disengaged, and the soldier plucked his lance from the ground. He leaned down toward Zach, who was lying on the ground, wholly defeated and seemed to say something before walking back toward his entrance. Zach stood up after a second and grabbed his weapon, storming from the Arena as best he could while clutching at his stomach.

Zach POV~

"Hey," Sumia said, and I was met with a wave from her, Lissa, Stahl and Dylan. I returned the wave, but my face remained in a scowl. "How are you doing?"

"Well," I said, settling into my seat and wincing when pain spiked from my stomach. "Let's see. I'm in a lot of fuckin' pain, I lost my goddamn match, and I don't get to continue to the next motherfuckin' round because I had to fight some dumbass lance-bitch in the first round." I took a deep breath, and let it out as a half-sigh, half-groan. "So not so good." I had managed to keep my voice from rising, but my language was more than enough to earn stares from everyone around me. The stare that I received from Sumia was… I felt it. She looked hurt and a little scared? My anger subsided as I glanced down at my feet then back up to her. "I'm sorry, Sumia, I—" I sighed again. "I didn't mean to lash out that's my bad."

"N-no, I understand," she said, turning her attention back to the Arena. Gods, now I felt bad, like a different kind of shitty. I paused at that thought. I said "goddamn" a moment ago, not "gods-damn". I didn't think anyone caught it, but a slip-up like that could be detrimental. My eyes lingered on Sumia for a moment longer, settling from the scowl I had to a furrowed brow.

I couldn't be in this place any more right now. I needed to walk. I said just that, and stood up suddenly. I edged past Sumia, apologizing again, and made my way out of there. I took a deep breath when I was out. The Arena was suffocating. I didn't know when it had gotten so hot in there, but the restlessness in my legs was overwhelming, much like it usually was when my temper had flared. Even though my anger had faded.

The cold, fresh air of the courtyard was, well, refreshing. It was always hard to be angry in the cold for me, unlike the humid heat of the Arena, and in the snow-speckled wind of Regna Ferox, it was cold. I suppose I literally needed to cool off sometimes.

I heard the clacking of footsteps against the stone coming from behind me, and I whirled around to see Robin coming toward me. "I heard about your match," she said. After my match had finished, I went straight to the healer they had there. Once I was mostly healed up—they needed to save heal charges, so what wasn't fixed was remedied with bandages—I made my way to the stands. "It's unfortunate."

"Tell me about it," I said, squinting as the wind picked up. "How'd you know I was out here?"

"I was bringing Frederick to his next match when I saw you walking out here," she explained. "I was a little concerned."

"I'm touched," I said, smiling, "but there isn't anything to worry about. I kind of exploded at Sumia, and then I felt bad because she just asked how I was, so I escaped out here for some fresh air." I blew through the topic, shrugging afterward, putting it in a less serious light. I didn't meet her eyes, but I wasn't avoiding her gaze either. "Anyway, you have a match soon, don't you? Get going," I said, looking up at her. "I'll only be a moment longer."

She hesitated, but nodded and went inside. Like I said, I only stood outside for a moment longer and then followed her path down the stone corridor. I made my way back up to the stands. Sully was there now, and had taken the seat between Sumia and Stahl, so I sat to Sumia's left. Frederick's match was still going on, and it looked like a very even match. He was fighting the soldier that beat me, and was pushing him back. It looked like Freddy was going to win this match. The soldier held his lance at an angle, the tip pointed to the ground.

What happened next caught me by surprise. Frederick went for a stab, and the soldier ducked underneath, bringing his own lance underneath and hooking it around Freddy's shoulder. The soldier then flung around Frederick and spun the lance, sweeping the bigger knight's feet out from under him in a very fluid motion that made me feel a lot better about losing to this guy. Frederick lost the match with the soldier's lance pressed to his Adam's apple. They departed the arena at the same time, but Frederick was displeased, as the soldier didn't return his bow.

I cast a glance at Sumia. She was staring down at the Arena with a frown. I opened my mouth to speak to her, planning to apologize again—I felt like I needed to—before Sully yelled past her. "Hey, Zach," said the cavalier, grinning. "I heard you had quite the outburst after your match, one that had a whole lot of cussing in it?"

"Yeah," I said sheepishly, rubbing the back of my head. "I was…frustrated, to say the least." I turned to Sumia, then. "Sorry again. I had no reason to blow up at you. That was completely unfair." Before she could respond, the gates grinded open and Robin stepped out. Her counterpart was… Chrom? Wait, why were they fighting this early? How was this tournament set up?

I could see the smile on their faces, offset by the determined look in their eyes. Robin held a tome in her left hand and an iron sword in her right, while Chrom of course had Falchion. When the initial cheering happened, the Shepherds were split. The majority—including Stahl, Vaike, and, of course, Sumia—cheered for Chrom while the Lissa, Sully, and I cheered for Robin. Dylan was silent, and I had no idea where Krystal was.

Even though I was rooting for Robin, I had no idea who would win. Chrom was more experienced in swordplay and was no joke when it came to fighting, but Robin had her magic and tactical brilliance. Whoever won would have to face the soldier next round if the tournament continued this trend. But then… where did 'Marth' come in? I leaned back and asked Dylan about it, not wanting to give my future knowledge away.

"I don't know," he said, "but I can see her standing with Lon'qu over there." He pointed to the innermost ring of the stands, close to Chrom's left. I couldn't see anything definite, but I there was a blue shape in that area.

Chrom started the match off like I expected him to—hard and fast. He came at Robin with a flurry of slashes that she met, their swords clanging off of each other, sparks flying. At one point, they clashed, but the swords didn't bounce off. They stuck, and Chrom pushed down on Robin, pushing her at the ground. She rolled out of the way and shot a charge of Thunder at him. It hit him, but didn't slow him much.

Robin avoided his next strike, then took the offensive. She slashed at him more times than I bothered to count, and he blocked every strike. I wondered why she wasn't using her magic. Her tome book was out and open, but held to the side as she delivered each attack. That was weird. Her magic was a huge advantage over Chrom, so why wasn't she using it very much?

With a decisive blow, Chrom swung Falchion upward and knocked the iron sword from Robin's hand, sending it flying into the air. Robin took this opportunity to hop backward and point her tome to the ceiling. Chrom ran at her, trying to stop whatever she was planning, but wasn't fast enough. Robin jumped into the air and raised her free hand. In it, lightning formed a long-pole shape.

The tactician threw the lightning spear at Chrom, and he leaped over the fucker! He somersaulted mid-air and slammed into Robin when she landed, pinning her to the ground and raising Falchion as if to finish her. Damn, that was some serious anime shit, dude. I was disappointed at the outcome, but cheered any way. Despite how fast the match went, it was really cool to see.

Chrom helped Robin to her feet and they shook hands, exchanging words that I couldn't hear, then walking out the doors they came in. "That was cool," I said, grinning. Now Chrom had to fight the soldier. Someone had to beat this guy. I would not be happy if he won.

There was an intermission. Both of the combatants would be given time to recuperate and prepare for the match. During that time, Robin and Frederick found their way up to us, sitting behind me and to the left. There was talk of another match after this one, a true finale, pitting the best of each against each other. Chatter commenced amongst the Shepherds, though, and I didn't think any of them heard it.

Chrom was merciless in combat, especially now. Maybe his determination was kicked into high-gear to defeat this foe. He delivered each jab and slash in rapid succession, offering almost no room for respite. The prince was on top of the soldier immediately, too, and the match looked to be in his hands from the beginning. The match didn't seem right, to me though. The soldier never made a move on Chrom. True, he wasn't given many opportunities to do so, but the chances he was given were never seized, all squandered. He didn't make the match super-easy for Chrom, but he never took offensive and stayed with his guard up, until Falchion cut cleanly through his lance's shaft, at which point he dropped the pieces and forfeited.

Chrom seemed to notice, too, eyeing the soldier as he walked out. There were murmurs throughout the crowd, but none that overpowered the clamorous yell that followed the victory. Chrom walked out, and taking his place was a large man that I recognized. Then again, the big bald khan would be hard to forget.

"Alright, alright," Basilio shouted, waving his hands in a downward motion, trying to quiet the audience. "It seems we have our second finalist!" That surely silenced the cheering. Everybody looked around, all confused, asking what the khan meant. Basilio cleared his throat before continuing. "As some of you know, this was only half of the tournament, the tournament to decide the true champion for the Khan of the East. My champion was decided yesterday, in a tournament of similar fashion. Now, there will be another short break, and then the two champions will do battle!"

His final words brought another roar from the crowd. "I wonder who Chrom's final opponent is," Stahl said.

"Do you think its Lucy?" I asked Dylan, leaning back to talk to him. His eyes turned to the crowd, scanning it.

Then he nodded. "She isn't by Lon'qu anymore. She must be the other finalist. It would make sense," he said. He was right. Now we got to see the finale of the Feroxi tournament, a battle between Chrom and his time traveling daughter. No one beside 'Marth', Dylan, possibly Krystal, and I knew how insane this battle would actually be.

Sure enough, when the gates opened next, Chrom stepped out and across from him, 'Marth' in her mask. I never really understood how that was a butterfly mask. I'd heard that somewhere, but it never made sense to me. Basilio cleared his throat again. "This match is between Chrom, prince of Ylisse," half of the crowd erupted at the prince's name, "and a man by the name of Marth, the enigmatic blade!" The other half erupted now, and both sides were cheering. Basilio waved for their silence, and the uproar died down. The West-khan walked to the edge of the arena and pulled himself over the lowest wall, taking a seat next to Lon'qu. A gust blew through the arena, putting out all of the torches in the ground, so all of the light was coming from the sandy arena floor. "Let the battle to decide the next reigning khan begin!" he shouted.

Chrom and 'Marth' pulled their respective Falchions from their sheathes simultaneously. It started out like the game showed it, with them both levelling their swords at each other. They went through all of the actions, doing the whole front-flipping slash thing and clashing in the middle. I admit, it was way different witnessing the ordeal in real life. Seeing a person leap straight into the air then somersault at an angle was surreal, and I had to blink to make sure I saw it right. People were not meant to have that much air control.

For the majority of the battle, Chrom and 'Marth' were mirrors of each other, doing the same movements, the same recoveries, the same jabs. It grew difficult to differentiate between them, and once I had to remind myself which one was Chrom and which was 'Marth'. I just had to look for which one was missing a sleeve, though.

As the battle went on, Chrom grew to have the advantage. His stronger build gave him the advantage and it occurred to me in the middle of the match that 'Marth' was only like 15 at the time. Chrom was roughly 17-19 I assumed, so that was quite a matchup. It really put into perspective how talented 'Marth' was with a sword.

The battle lasted a long time, by far the longest yet. Chrom was beginning to wear on 'Marth', though. I could see her movements slowing, and when she was stood in her stance, her grip faltered a little, and Parrallel Falchion's tip angled slightly to the ground. In the middle of one of their many fleeting clashes, Chrom let out a roar and swung with more strength, sending Parallel Falchion sailing through the air. 'Marth' hopped back, then took a knee in front of Chrom. There were words between them, I could tell, then 'Marth stood up and walked over to grab her sword.

The uproar returned, filled with more excitement and fervor than after any of the previous matches. It was deafening, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't a part of it. My throat burned, but the hype from having our side win fueled me. All of the Shepherds stood, pumping their fists and yelling as loud as they could. Even Dylan cheered, this time. Chrom twirled Falchion and stabbed it into the ground, then raised his fist. I couldn't help the smile on my face, especially when I saw the smile on his.

"Well fought!" Flavia said. Robin, Frederick, Lissa, Chrom and I were gathered with her in the circular room we had first met the Khan in. It had been troublesome getting out of the Arena, what with how packed the halls were as everyone flooded out. Most of the Shepherds had returned to their rooms or to their respective hobbies. Chrom had told everyone that we were to stay another day, then leave just after dawn. After that, he rounded up Freddy, Robin, and myself to meet with Flavia. "You have my respect, prince."

"And your aid?" Chrom asked, crossing his arms.

"Guaranteed," Flavia said, flashing a smile and resting her hand on her hip. She wasn't wearing any armour, but still had her sword at her waist. Always prepared, I supposed. "Ylisse will get the soldiers she needs."

"Thank you," Chrom said, grinning now, too.

"I should thank you," the khan said with a sigh, shaking her head. "I haven't held power in what feels like ages. So," her grin returned, stronger than before, and she chuckled, "tonight, we will celebrate!" Flavia marched away, pumping her fists, excited for the party tonight.

"Bah," Basilio huffed, walking past her and shaking his head. "Any excuse for a party and Flavia doesn't hesitate to throw it." He crossed his arms and stood in front of us, and I only now realized how massive this guy was. Like, I was barely shoulder height to the guy, and I'm fairly average height, leaning more toward the tall side now. Not only that, but his fuckin' arms were probably the size of my thighs. But you can call me Tiffany," I thought to myself, and snickered a little.

"I'm sorry," Chrom said, arcing a brow, "have we met?"

Basilio smirked, betraying what he was about to say. "I'm the West-Khan you so rudely removed from power!" He chuckled after. "You're handy with a sword, boy. I thought for sure I'd picked the stronger man."

Chrom seized the opportunity to try and gleam some information about the enigmatic blade that he fought. "What do you know about him?"

"You mean that 'Marth' character?" Basilio scoffed. "He's just some sellsword with delusions of grandeur." I mean, yeah, I suppose that isn't wrong. Changing the future would be a delusion of grandeur, yeah? Or was it changing the past. Ah, shit. Basilio continued. "All I know is that he turned up one eve and knocked my old champion flat. It was love at first sight," he said, fake-swooning before laughing. "Ha, I'm far too old for such things. Anyway, he's gone now. Fled the moment the tournament ended."

"He's so dark and mysterious," Lissa interjected, then sighed.

"What are you, gay?" I muttered, then laughed at my own joke/reference. When I remembered that 'Marth' was in fact a girl, my laughter exploded and I doubled over, clutching my stomach.

"What?" Lissa asked, looking at me with the most confused look in her eyes, only serving to escalate my laughter. She glanced at Chrom and Robin, then back to Chrom. "What did he say?" she asked her brother, and he shrugged. Lissa held her perplexed gaze, Chrom stared at me with an eyebrow raised, Robin with the corner of her mouth quirked up slightly, and Frederick with his brow furrowed, face settled into a scowl.

Basilio gave me a strange look, too, but decided that now would be a good time to shift the conversation. At this point, my laughter had died down to small giggling, and my stomach hurt. "Anyway, boy, I have a present for you." With that, Lon'qu walked in from some shadowy place. So damn edgy, so damn cool. My fellow myrmidon remained silent, a stoicism plastered on his face that matched the one Frederick usually held. "This is Lon'qu," Basilio said. "My former champion. He isn't much for talking, mind you, but he's peerless with a sword. At least as good as Marth. To be honest, I can't figure out how Marth bested him so quickly."

It's weird how Lon'qu was so skilled, and so were the rest of the Shepherds. They were better than 'Marth' was at this time, at least some of them, even though she fought to survive in a post-apocalyptic future. I didn't get how that worked. I mean hell, if she was strong enough to fend off hordes of Risen in her time, wouldn't a full team of Shepherds be plenty capable of taking them down? Maybe it was just game convenience, as an overpowered 'Marth' would be impossible to best, but… Ah, whatever.

I shook my thoughts away to see a shocked Lissa looking at Chrom. "What did I say?" Lon'qu had a deeper frown, and his hand was resting on the hilt of his killing edge.

Basilio burst out laughing. "Let's just say that ladies tend to put Lon'qu on edge. Nonetheless, he is capable. I think he even has the making of a khan." Then the West-khan's voice lowered, and he turned to the myrmidon. Whatever he said clearly displeased Lon'qu, and it was reminiscent of how a father might speak to his son, I thought. "Anyway," Basilio continued, clearing his throat, "he's your man now. Consider him West Ferox's contribution to the Ylissean cause."

Chrom looked ready to protest, but I cut in. "We'd be grateful to have such a skilled swordsman," I said, taking a small bow. "Thank you, Basilio." He nodded, then with a few more words to Lon'qu and the rest of us, and a handshake between the two men, the West-Khan departed.

The six of us stood in silence for a moment, then Lon'qu cleared his throat. "If there is nothing else you need of me, I will take my leave." None of us said anything, and the myrmidon did just that. He took off silently. You know, it would be nice to have a tutor that fights so well with a sword. I would have to ask him sometime. Hopefully he would agree to teach me.

"What did you call the West-Khan, Zach?" Chrom asked after Lon'qu had left our view completely. "Basilio?"

"Yeah, that's his name."

"How did you know? I didn't hear him say it at any time?" Robin piped in, and now I was the center of attention.

"I heard it a while back on Valm," I lied, silently applauding myself for the quick-BS. Then I cracked a smile. "But that it isn't important now. We have more pressing matters to attend." Confused looks met mine. "Why, my friends, have you already forgotten? We've a party to go to, and we need some sharp clothes to wear!"

AN: aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAND SCENE! Another long break in between chapters, I know. Almost two weeks again. I apologize, truly. But I mean, I was almost done with this chapter for more than a week, actually. Where the little time-skip between the end of the tourney and the meeting between Flavia and the Shepherds is? I was stuck at that point for a while, and just never had the time or motivation to do it.

When it comes to the actual chapter, I don't have much to say, other than that it is the longest chapter yet. Roughly 6,000 words. That and this is the first perspective shift in the story, and it most certainly will not be the last. I hope it meets your expectations and uh, well, if you're reading this, thanks for reading this far and I apologize for another long-ass Author's Note. But I just have a few more things.

First, Child Units. Something that I have been thinking about since I decided to use your OC's was pairings between the OC's, and then if there would be children units between them. But, I didn't want to put two OC's together without the consent of their respective owners, as I didn't want to disappoint you guys. I feel like I'm being too paranoid, like most of you wouldn't care either way, but I would like to know. So either leave a review or PM me and tell me what y'all think.

Second, romance will be afoot soon enough in the story. However, I am inexperienced in writing the subject, despite how much I love it. So, if I don't live up to your expectations, you have been warned. I will try my best, though. I plan to drop hints about who I plan for Zach to pair up with, both subtle and blatant, so keep an eye out, and see if you can guess who it is before shit goes down.

Now that is all. Thank you all again for reading my story, and thanks even more for those of you who read all the way to the end of my ramblings. Keep my thaaaangs in consideration, and hit me up with a review or PM if you've time.

Now without further delay, farewell. All of the Oats have left the building.