This chapter is when things are going uncanon. First of all, Lucina doesn't travel back at the same time as the other children. And more uncanon things are at the bottom of the page to prevent spoilers (not that the chapter title isn't a spoiler at all...) DON'T LOOK THEN :p
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
With a thud, I landed on the ground. Did it work? Was this the past? I looked around. I was still in a forest, near a lake, but it felt...different. Yes, different was the best word I could use. But was it a sign of being in the past? I had no idea. But if I was in the past, then I had to know what the date was. I wished I had a history book of the resent history. I took a breath. Okay, first doing something against my appearance. The brand in my eye wasn't visible, due to the mask, but I had to make sure nobody knew my identity. What was I going to do when someone asked my name? Maybe I was already born, so that would be extra suspicious. From now on every decision affected the future. It could be in a good way, but also in a bad way. It gave me a wave of despair. What if I made it even worse? What did I start...
'Focus Lucina,' I said strict to myself. 'You are descendant of the Hero-King. He could easily deal with problems. I can't fail my ancestor...' And then something hit me. The Hero-King, the first Exalt, defeated many dark dragons long ago. Not only Medeus, the Shadow Dragon, but also Grima. I pulled Falchion out its scabbard. With the same sword. I walked to the lake nearby. The light of the moon reflected me in the water. Wow, I did somewhere look like him, according to the paintings back home. My eyes grew.
'Maybe I...' I looked up at the sky. Marth Lowell was a symbol of hope, and I was now bearing the same task. I could disguise myself as the Hero-King. That idea almost looked like a given; my bloodline, my task, my enemy, my appearance and my sword. Everything pointed toward it: from now, my name was Marth. But there was only one issue: I was sure looked like a woman now. It was like a light bulb plopped above my head. That would work. I sought an way out the forest. I knew this place. It was just outside Ylisstol. But the building weren't crumbled and people were walking happily across the streets. I was certain this was the past. And I knew where I wanted to go: Plegia's southern island. Yes, Plegia. I hated the idea of going to enemy territory, but with the mask, nobody would recognise me.
I walked to one of the stores and asked the date. The shopkeeper first looked awkwardly at me when I asked for the year. The man eventually gave all the information I needed and thanked him for it. Then my head began to spun and I tried to remember the dates of important happenings. Only one half year to go before aunt Emmeryn would be assassinated. A half year. It would be possible to go to Plegia first. My journey started and everything went fine, until I got to the boundary. It was guarded and when I innocently walked through, a rough hand stopped me.
'Where do ya think you're going, miss?' a Plegian soldier asked.
'I was going to visit my ill aunt in a village nearby. You see, she hasn't long anymore and I wanted to say goodbye,' I quickly lied. The soldier looked into my masked eyes, trying to get any glimpse of my face. I stepped backwards when I slowly reached out for one of my midnight blue locks.
'Blue hair, huh?' he asked. Then he turned to his colleagues.
'This gal asks to get through. Body search her,' he ordered. His colleagues approached me. I started seating a bit. Suddenly, my Falchion felt a lot heavier. Their attention went indeed to the sword-holding scabbard.
'What do we've got 'ere,' one of them said as they intended to pull the legendary sword out.
'It's to protect myself from bandits!' I said a bit in panic, but he had already the sword in his hand.
'This sword. It looks familiar. What do ya guys think?' Oh shit, they recognised it. Think Lucina, think. The other guy grabbed the sword.
'Yes, you're right,' he nodded as he looked at the teardrop-shaped hilt. 'It looks like the Falchion.' I quickly grabbed my sword back.
'It's a replica of the real sword. It's too threaten bandits, so they think it's the real deal. I, honestly, have nothing to do with the real Falchion, nor the Ylissian royalties.' Oh wow, I didn't know I could make it up that easily.
'That's a really smart defence plan, miss. We don't want anything horrible happening to such a mysterious lady as you. Ya know what, skip that body scan. This madame is well aware of herself.' They let me through.
It took a few weeks, but I sat on the boat to the southern island. I was surrounded by Plegians, but no one had noticed me. During the weeks, I had several sleeping places. Not every Plegian was mad. There were normal citizens too. They were so kind to give me a place to sleep. It was often an inn, but some gave me a place in one of their spare rooms. Maybe they guessed by my clothes that I was rich. The most of them didn't even bother to ask my name, but some asked something else: why the mask. I never answered that question, I ignored their question, changed subject or said that I were tired and wanted to sleep.
I was shaken out my thoughts when the boat clashed against the quay. I stepped out the boat and looked around. So this was it. The roots of this whole continent. Unbelievable this place, once the source of peace, fell in hands of Plegia. I walked forwards, instinctly knowing the direction. The place I wanted to go was here. My destination: The Ancient Tomb of Altea.
Because I couldn't find anything about the first exalt, I thought I would give Marth that title. I thought: "He slay Medeus, why the hell not Grima. It fits the story." And if you have problems with it: DEAL WITH IT
-Pitta.
