# Chapter VI

## Glimpse of the other side

The sharp whistling of the peaks, the fuzzy contours of mountainscape, mystified by hazes of snow and cloud, they complimented the emptiness of the great expanse above quite well. The piercing blue sky was striking, unrivalled by anything other up above this net of clouds and rock- A testament to its authenticity. One would call the air here tranquil, but mayhaps a more abrasive term would suit the environment better, because while the space here was clean, energizing and rich with oxygen, it was also cold and unforgiving, so elevated that the peaks only slightly higher up were already showing signs of perpetual snowfall. This wasn't a place mere mortals could reach as of yet, and it was designed to be this way.

These were the mountains that kept watch over the Bottomless Canyon, standing tall for eons, precursors to even the First Dragons of yore.

Due to their ageless existence, the protruding mountains had also been described as the ' Finger of Gaia ' by the first men, those who beheld the nature in a mystical sense before the Divine Dragonkin proclaimed their dominion over the world. That vibe of mysticism still remained even to this day. Of course, modern astrologists and onmyoji all looked at the peaks through the lens and scope of their own age, a remnant of the Old world under the rule of the Divines, but perhaps there was truth in the ancient veneration of this place as the palette of drab grey, stark white and piercing blue now suddenly started aggressively changing again after many, many centuries, signifying the return, or in this case the entry, of immense arcane energies. The likes of which this world hadn't seen on this scale for a long time.

Bolts of lightning shot all about as all the creatures of the mountain, startled and afraid, ran from their homes and fled the peaks en masse. The sky itself started twisting into a precarious black as dark clouds gathered in formation and spawned even more noise. Quickly thereafter, a glowing line appeared in the sky and a creature burst forth, as if a blade of thousands degrees worth of temperature simply made a cut into a case full of water, the liquids pouring through from the inside so strong that they broke the glass planes. For a short moment, expansive wings as big as half the mountains' size clipped out of the portal, followed by a body so black it blotted out whatever was left of the sun's light, absorbed it, entrapped it, and disposed of it, never to return. Rows of crimson eyes and teeth sprung up as the rest of neck started to materialize, but as soon as the main body was reached, the process started growing awry. The Gate was too small, the portal's dimensions too unforgiving. One would think that, with the ease it expanded earlier with, the corners would simply expand to accomodate to the larger figure once more, and they did, but the pressure was simply too much, the fleeting gateway too weak to begin with. It started rumbling the space and twisting the time, shaking the snow off the tops and cracking the eons- old stone as the portal began flickering in and out of existence rapidly and infrequently. The creature knew that was it to use force to push through even more, the threshold would collapse and its head severed off its body.

Something had to be done.

In an act of desperation, it sent out a preliminary message for knowledge and howled in fear, the first genuine one it had felt since its inception. The Gate seemed to have a mind of its own as the doors slowly started closing, dimensions lessening. It was then, at the final moments of its time in this realm, that it learned of a new skill, though it was more of a realization of something that had always been there rather than the acquisition of something completely foreign. With the final ounces of its power, it spawned a tiny bulb of energy, a last vestige of its Will, before finally retreating back and closing the connection, promptly ridding the peaks of the malevolent clouds, but not its energy, since this tiny smidgeon of mana suddenly started twisting and morphing in its descent. Like a tumor in its prime, it started growing something horrid and unholy, taking form in some kind of revolting fetus in mid-air, growing abscesses that contorted into limbs and other appendages, longer and stronger still, more human and lifelike forever. Rapidly, the figure, feeding on the energies of primordial shamanism and magics of conflicts that had been lingering on these heights, cycled through the stages of cell, birth, development and maturity, growing from a waning babe to a fully matured adult within the timespan of a few seconds. Once there, however, the natural energies dissolved and the inherent ones emerged. As it opened its eyes to the new world around it a link to its omnipotent and reality-warping parent and superego was established, conscious thought also birthing within his mind. And with that also knowledge of its purpose.

Through reverse-engineering the process of the blood pact it had made in a previous lifetime, a fragment of its Will was able to be materialized. The Dark Dragon had, in his struggles to overcome the boundaries of space and time with his physical form, fostered a child of his own: an Avatar.

Its descend was slow, but once its bare feet touched the ground, the earth shook under the Presence. Rushing tides of malevolent energy shot out and immediately killed anything that hadn't already been claimed by the harsh weather conditions or had simply failed to vacate before the arrival had been set in stone. Even flocks of birds flying below were struck and fell from the skies, pine trees even further in the valley spontaneously losing its leaves and withering, dying brittle and dry. The sensation of power was intoxicating and pleasing, even arousing to a certain extent, but he chose to withdraw the bloodthirsty tenebrosity and recall it back to his side.

Becoming aware of his nakedness, he stretched out his arm, fashioning clothing from the fur of fallen beasts and whatever else was necessary with dark tendrils shooting forth from his bony hand. The dark corrupting energy turned the cloak a deep shade of dark indigo, instilling him with an air of familiarity he shouldn't even have possessed at this point. His accrued time in this reality was brief yet and unimpressive. It must've been something the previous mark- bearer had worn, remaining as a memory within the miasma of energies that was the overarching creature, the omnidimensional source of power that was Grima.

He was simply a Fragment of its physical form, but now that it had become aware of this other reality he could feel the link with his Draconic counterpart in the realm of Ylisse weaken and his connection with the deity only growing. Suddenly, an ear-shattering roar filled the space between the mountains and rushed forth from the canyon below, breaking the sound barrier at multiple levels at such speeds that he had to conjure a ward of black wizardry to stave off its effects, lest he'd be cut to shreds.

' … Did you hear that … ?

...It seems like a lonely Dragon. The last of its kind.

Perhaps it thinks We are its kin ..

Well, this changes things, or were you always planning for this to happen .. ? '

It spoke to the empty air space above.

' Well, no matter, I shall adjust the plans accordingly. '

And with that he stood up and stretched out his arm once more. The force that surged forth was immense, but it had every right to be. From his hand morphed a similar ball of creation as the one that had imagined him into existence, slowly morphing into an identical version of him, but clearly supplemented to grow by his own vitality. As it aged from a hulking mass of pulsating, droopy glob so did he, lining his face with wrinkles, turning his skin malleable and saggy. And his hair grey. As he was the Fragment of Grima, so too did he now divide himself up once more: the same entity, though not split as separate existences as far as the realm of creation was concerned. It was the loophole that the Dragon had previously conjured him through, and now he had accomplished what it in the other world had taken eons to remember.

' I shall go forth to the kingdom shrouded in darkness to the west and establish contact before travelling on and doing the same in the East , you shall examine the powers beneath. '

It understood his command, but only nodded, as he had neglected to give it the power of speech. That was a mistake he had to rectify, but didn't have the vigor to tax himself so after just using his abilities so extensively.

' Fine, we shall change places then. Go forth now. Spread Our ruin. '

And as he closed his eyes, the doppelganger was off at incredible speeds, shifting in and out of its corporeal form as it jumped in a free fall from the cliffs to avoid collision where necessary. It was more an orb of energy than it was an actual living being, but that was fine. It would serve its purpose.

Grimacing slightly in anticipation, he dragged his hand across his face, veiling his elderly visage in that of the young and vigorous Robin his appearance had been based off once more before setting off himself; slowly and leisurely, walking down the cliffside as if all of it was already under his dominance, but that was fitting. For him, this entire world already was.

It just didn't know it yet.


' And so, after a brief physical altercation with his personal retainers and the Hoshidan servicemen, Corrin summarily retreated from the battlefield and- '

' Yes, yes, we've heard all about the damnable traitor now, but what about the rest of the front? Surely you've more to recount than just the tales of one ungrateful little brat gone rogue? '

The sigh he let out was long, ragged and weary.

The ceilings of the throne room were vaulted and incredibly high, to the point where it was hard to make out the numerous decorations at the very top. Gilded pillars, encrusted with so many ornamental curves and shimmering baubles that it'd take a woodsman and miner four or five heavy swings to penetrate to the base, reached all the way to this ceiling, and every time Xander set his eyes upon the barely legible lettering above he wondered if such excessive lavishness was necessary when it contrasted so harsh with the reality of the common streets outside. It was useless, like the incessant demand for field reports from Father, no doubt instigated by that worm Iago who was at his ear constantly these days, whispering his poison; The seed of doubt and distrust. That is: if Garon wasn't listening to the ravings of his maddened God that no one else but him could perceive anyhow. Xander focused on the lines of his father's face but soon found vision blurring as thought took him elsewhere, the droning voice of Iago but a silent hum in the far background. In this bubble of introspection the Crown Prince of Nohr harshly scolded himself, dismissing any negative utterings he deemed unconstructive. This rigid discipline was completely self-imposed, but he found it absolutely necessary. The youthful Garon had always been mild on his children, sneaking them treats in between drills and returning from his expeditions with tall tales of his experiences. A man of vigor who carried a contagious patriotism for Nohr. For the Nohrian siblings, their father often was the rallying point during the vicious Concubine Wars, the battles fought secretly within the castle walls outside the eyes of even its own King and Master. Poisoned foodstuffs harming taste-testers during dinner, assassins in the scaffoldings of the halls or in the shade of a windowsill, extortion and even abuse often befell Xander and Camilla where the other siblings were mostly spared. Garon was a neutral ground as per unspoken agreement. A safe Haven. When he found out about the venomous dealings of his wives, he reportedly wept alone in his chambers for days.

.. Xander wondered where that man was now.

Was he still in there, buried underneath the accumulated stockpile of ambition, murder and betrayal that had amassed over these years? He missed him. The version of the King from which he still felt any form of affection, for whom he could still muster love. But that last bit was something he vehemently denied over and over. He had talked himself into believing that this was a better situation. Supposedly this emotionless approach would make him stronger, aid him with tough decisions. He was to be shaped into a King worthy of the people despite their disposition towards him, and in that way he could understand his father's neglect and blunt directness. Just not why it was directed at his own children.

Somewhere deep within, Xander had wished to still be the eldest lad hunting in the forests of the forlorn woods with his parents, to experience that feeling when the King had first trusted him with Siegfried, acknowledging his years of hard work and strife.

Of course, he wasn't directly aware of these wants either. While his outer actions made him dependable and unshakable, a rock for others to bank on, his insides were often fractured like this. He just had a very good grip on his emotions.

' Consul Iago, Corrin was a central piece of the conflict, ' He began, unconsciously assuming the proper stance and squaring his shoulders as his diction became strict and meticulous. The speech of a King.

' Many of his actions had a direct influence on its course, we - '

' But you just said he had fled the field like a coward, didn't you? If so, then why aren't you out there hunting him down, did you not have your personal garde ready at the time? ' Iago interrupted.

' And why haven't you pushed further into Hoshidan territory yet? ' Garon, speaking for the first time since the conversation had started, added.

' The man disappeared into nothingness, were we supposed to -?! '

' Why is it you that's here giving this report anyway? Wouldn't a lowly messenger have sufficed? Iago interrupted once more, adding to Xander's frustration with the man and his insolent behavior.

' Missives can get distorted and warped by evil-doers. ' He curtly retorted, gaze fully and solely focused on the advisor, homing in on the single eye that wasn't covered by that ridiculous mask of his. It were words the dark sorcerer clearly took offense to, no doubt because the blunt directness of the Crown Prince tackled the elephant in the room head on. In the face of someone he knew was larger than him, not relying on the safety of Garon's presence but standing on his own two feet, Iago was beset by an envious rage, warped into a twisted scowl on his visage.

' We doubt that such a ludicrous claim would actually hold any water. Realistically, castle Krakenburg is not only the best protected fortification in the realm, its net of intelligence is also close- knit to the point that I would always notice something irregular in a letter's phrasing. Surely, mere fear for petty tinkering is not the true reason why you're here, Prince Xander?

...Perhaps you've come personally because you know the war effort can't start without you? '

' I beg your pardon, strategist?! ' Xander responded in outrage. This was enough, the slimy little man had crossed the line this time.

' You dare accuse me of postponing the attack on Hoshido? Are you going to stand there and liken my person to a traitor? Who gave you the right to speak to a Crown Prince of Nohr like that?! On whose authority can you possibly- '

' Xander, enough! ' The rumbling voice of Garon quaked the room and bounced off the walls, giving a hollow impression as the echo reverbed all the way to the top.

' Get back to the topic at hand. What of the rest of the war effort? How many Hoshidans have we crushed? ' It was clear that the King was not siding with his son on this matter, a decision that slighted the blondelocked prince heavily. Seeing the arrogant smirk on the advisor's putrid face was enough to make him want to wipe it clean off his frame with a hew of his blade, but he controlled the urge and turned to his sovereign in a summary manner, ignoring any further interruptions.

' Our three- pronged attack has yet to meet any major enemy resistance, mainly due to the fact that the Bottomless Canyon and the Fingers of Gaia around it have been particularly stormy as of late. As we had expected, the Hoshidan army is slowly swelling in size, drafting personnel and militia from the warlord- governed suzerainties in the east bordering the mountains. For as far as the preliminary riders can tell, they've made an effort to centralise their rallying efforts around the fortress of Jinya, so we're not expecting much resistance in the south. The Northern advance has seen some problems however.. The reports complain about a lack of appropriate winter gear, something we hadn't accounted for as we thought the northmost army would've been the swiftest to arrive. It's the savages of the Flame Tribe up there, it seems their alliance with Hoshido has held fast for all of these years, and they've been harassing our troops columns and supply lines. As for the middlemost army. It's progressing fine. Just. Fine. And now, I beg your leave. '

And having spoken those words he abruptly spurred around and stomped towards the throne hall's exit, more reminiscent of a gate than it was a doorway due to its staggering size. This was classic Xander, drowning out naysayers and haggard criticism with paramount excellence in what he did, so that those detractors would have to sew their mouths shut, whether they liked it or not. Without looking back to confirm if his report had hit home -he knew it had- he pushed the heavy gate aside and firmly turned the corner, progressing to the stables at high speed.

The weight of his onyx clad greaves hit the surface of the purple carpentry, creating a droning yet muffled sound that rang heavy with every step, emulating the weight of burden constantly on his shoulders. One could ask how long the prince was willing to put up with this facade of a court. The answer was as long as it would take to seperate Iago from his Garon's ears, as he was convinced that every bad decision his Father had made these past few years was borne through the sorcerer's advice. Speaking about sorcerers; a familiar face popped up from around the corner as he cut it. Though clad in a finely spun indigo doublet with the golden markings sown into the collar rather than the jet black pauldrons, cuirass, gauntlets and greaves, second prince (and unofficial runner up to the throne) Leo had retained his spurred sabatons, signifying that the royal had previously been out on a ride.

' Xander, you look as pale as a ghost ! ' He exclaimed in shock, having to adjust himself from the sobering sight by pulling a bit at his collar and planting his feet. Scraping his throat as to get rid of his hoarse voice, the younger sibling raised a serious gaze to meet the one of his brother and deepened it when their eyes levelled.

' Has Father been acting out again? We're ought to- '

'It's nothing for you to worry about, Leo.

I was going to visit Camilla next, though. Would you care to accompany me? '

It irked the dark knight that once again the eldest prince was excluding him from the burdens of royalty, but the affectionate question extended at the end of the message had dulled these sentiments somewhat.

' I would love to, but she's not currently here. She went back to that place. '

Castle Clarkenstein, simultaneously the subject of both many years of peace and relaxation but also where many abject horrors transpired. The secret planning site of the concubine conflicts, were many of Garon's less fortunate children and yes, some of his bastards also, met their grim end in a shady situation of illness, accidents and ransom-less kidnappings. While that place had many bad memories, it also contained the few good ones that remained within the siblings' minds. Times where they could still frolic around together on walks or picnics; relative peace. Camilla going there after the blow of Corrin's departure on her psyche was no surprise. It was grim and nigh abandoned now as the royals had all departed to their own estates or taken to living in the chambers within the Palace of Krakenburg, but there was still a sense of familiarity in the contrast between the verdant greenhouses and the dark brickwork, the lavishly empty dining halls and the cosy dimly lit corridors.

' Why were you visiting her anyway? You haven't been home in a while. ' Leo pondered as Niles helped him atop his steed. Though they were outside the raging piercing winds rushing over their heads far above due to the lay of the stables and by extension of that the palace itself, the unnatural throbbing of the Dragon Vein at the very bottom of the crater, the largest in recorded Nohrian history, still sank deep into their guts as they scaled the many aqueducts and arches, overlooked by hundreds of sentries. Gatehouses opened and closed, bridges were extended and checkpoints opened. The Nohrian siblings could always pass with no questions asked where the rest of this occupying force was very well aware of the fact that leaving Krakenburg could possibly be an impossible task. Servitude to the Nohrian regime was absolute, but in exchange for that one could get certainty and absolution from the troubles of life. Shovelling the earth on unforgiving dead soil or making a life peddling and slinging forbidden spices under the bans the state put out to pressure haven colonies into obedience, life for a Nohrian citizens was often unforgiving and difficult. And it was like that by design. From the tribesmen of antiquity to the overlords that followed and the emperors of near memory, this principle had always been remembered and employed. Take away the ease from a life and supplement it with an easy solution: the army had always readily accepted new applicants and recruits with open arms. This was something Xander had never readily agreed with, as he was more avant- garde in believing that the ruler should live for the people and not the other way around, he realized that this absolute regime had its merits. The obedience of the subjects provided the ruler with the tools to ensure their safety. And so he ultimately had to obey as well.

' The purpose of my visit isn't for leisure, Leo. The Northern Front is running into trouble and my attention is needed there to speed the march of our troops out of the danger area. That leaves the Southern armies without a capable commander. Camilla's expertise is needed at the frontlines… '

Leo could hear the recent stern coldness of Garon speaking through Xander's words, which unsettled him. Yet that wasn't the only thing frowning his eyebrows and cramping his grip on the reins of his steed.

' And were you going to approach me about this? ' He asked, shooting the eldest a slightly glum look. He fully knew that in matters of war Xander's words could sometimes be harsh and direct in the name of professionalism, and so he was steeling himself somewhat in anticipation.

' You have your own division to take care of, hadn't your positions be defined already? ' The Crown Prince responded, slowing the pace of his ride.

' Were you perhaps hoping to take control of the leftover troupe? I hadn't expected such ambition from you brother! ' He smirked, seeing the flush on Leo's face redden his face somewhat, though the younger prince kept his composure, at least in stature. In terms of speech it was..

' Ah.. N-no.. I just.'

' Hahaha, we'll see what we can do about that position once we join up with our sister, alright? Come on now, let's ride! ' And with those words he dashed through the final behemoth of a gate at the top of the crater and left Krakenburg in a drove of dust, leaving Leo to think a final thought before joining him up ahead. The dark knight conjured up an ember of mana at his fingertips and flicked it into the ashy soil, passively watching it die out as he ruffled the pages of his tome hanging at the side of the horse's back.

'No.. Not until my investigations are done.. '

Spurring his horse, the beast whinnied and galloped in full speed in pursuit of the Crown Prince. If only times of coursing the plains would always stay this simple.


Focus from stirrings.

Cleared nuisances will blank

Droplet in thought's pond.

Trivialities distract.

Rustles from beyond

Mustn't dissuade.

Gently rushing breaths

Tickled senses realign

On breezes they'll fade

But alas, no signs

Mind too troubled shan't comply

Entry thus barred

The spring outside was never a place to sway whatever left inside.

This time however, his serenity broken, a sigh slipped loose from weary lips. A burdened chest with a tightness much stressed.

Perhaps his biggest mistake had been to neglect the brevity.

Looking for the cool shade, he had hidden behind the sliding door, assuming the seiza position of proper sitting and closing his eyes. Intent was to meditate, reflect on the happenings of days past, perhaps find some serenity within, but his thumb pulling at the suba of his blade and the fingers running past the ripples of its tsuka revealed that which was really on his mind: Dark thoughts of war and conflict, suppressed prayers for the deceased from that conflict- though he knew the drake of dawn would loyally take any souls of his worshippers to him- and a healthy dose of stress violently banged on the walls of his psyche, ones he had erected for a bit of tranquility. Perhaps that was where his problem laid; In trying so extensively he had let the moment of peace pass, failing to grasp its fleeting nature. In a way, all of Hoshido had, as destruction now was imminent, at least if they retained their ignorance. Opening his eyes, the mellowly colored tatami and walls depicting myths and legends from his youth were calming to a degree, but even they delivered him no solace, even though he was trying so hard for that state of quietude, which, again, was exactly the problem at hand.

But Takumi didn't know how to stop himself from trying. For him, determination and aptitude meant affection, though there wasn't much in his upbringing to give him that idea. Perhaps it was Sumeragi 's fixation on Ryoma as the eldest, or at least as he perceived it to be.

Despite his name bearing the meaning of artisan, he had never seen himself as skillful. Ryoma's was Dragon and Horse, Qilin, the birth of a Great King. Hinoka's was the Sacred Cypress. How was he to compare to the fate that had been instilled upon them from birth? Hidden fears from veiled thoughts, nestled deep within the crevice of his heart. Was he out to outshine his siblings? No. What he wanted was recognition, but perhaps not even their recognition, but really his own. He had always found himself lacking.

And that's why he was here again, in the estate of his youth, the Shirasagian manors where his favorite chamber resided. The coolness of the air was always a pleasurable fresh breath to bask in, as was the gently drowsing falling sun, draping the contours of the garden that wilted into the room an opulent hue of gold, tinted with just the right dab of laughing orange to give it that soothing glow. As if the warmth itself was smiling upon his worries. Perhaps that would be the only thing taking pity on him.. After all..

' I thought I'd find you sulking in here! '

The brusque voice of his brother and elder sibling filled the room, blowing away the unfinished thought of anxiety. Clad in a simple red kimono decorated with floral patterns and the hoshidon crest, his hair was bound in an unruly yet not unkempt tail on his back, his skin steamy, alluding to his apparent earlier soak in the hot springs.

' B-big Brother Ryoma? How did you find me? ' Takumi responded with the necessary surprise. He had truly considered his moments here clandestine.

' Hah, you always come here to sulk don't you? ' The High Prince jested, immediately holding in his tongue however when he saw his younger sibling's sullen downcast expression.

He closed the distance between them in two big steps and sat down next to his brother, abstaining from grabbing a pillow as he preferred the rough feeling of just the tatami mat on his legs.

' Is that a katana..? Have you been thinking of Father again? ' He asked with a furrowed eyebrow and concern in his tone. Takumi, as always, was impressed by the amount of depth in the understanding Ryoma emitted. Nevertheless, embarrassment drove him to denying the remark as if it was an allegation.

'N-no, that's not the case at all, I- '

' Don't lie, brother. I saw the attendants remeasuring your dō earlier, you haven't worn that thing since your twelfth cycle! ' The High Prince beamed, getting excited as the prospects of a potential sparring match. Perhaps it was better to stop teasing his sibling though, however much he might enjoy it. Besides, he had his own fair share of problems as well, some of which overlapped with those of his counterpart. His mind wandered out to the failed harvests of the rice paddies and overtaxed grazing fields to the west, the brewing hostilities between the tribes and the kingdoms in the south and of course, the full on war scenario with Nohr.

' How are the daimyo responding to our call? ' He asked, face glossed over by a serious look.

In reaction, Takumi only flinched. He had hit the nail right on the head.

' … Not that great? ' Ryoma followed up with a worried expression.

' No, not that. They're responding alright but.. Some of them don't have much more power than the regular gokunin or samurai, bringing only their levy and a handful of actual warriors to the table. And even from those warriors, the nepotism of the lords has culled the herd even more! I'm stuck with riding with greenhorn sons and inept cousins when the real scrappers would be at base camp guarding their masters! Mother's soft hand has weakened them, I don't know of how much use they'll be when facing Nohr... ' A gloomy and depressive prediction, well known habit of the second prince. When the mood caught him at certain times, he could turn out ot be especially worrisome and be a little difficult to deal with. Luckily, Ryoma had always been able to pierce this thinly- veiled anxiety and get to the core of the matter.

' The military support will be sufficient. Remember, we have a tally of our most important assets and they've only been expanding their reach these past few years. Furthermore, the support of the Fire Clan and Mokushu will pair well with the sympathies of the Wind Clan as well. We have plenty of power to face the Nohrians head on. We just need to make sure to not sow discomfort within our ranks, and you've been doing a good job appeasing the nobles, brother.'

The compliment struck home but didn't necessarily sway his disposition. Vacant look in his cognac- brown pair, he tilted his neck back and leisurely rested his gaze on the entrance.

' Do you think this is how dad would've acted? '

Ryoma 's expression shifted to something more subdued.

' I don't know if our father would've even let it get this far…'

He was about to follow up on that statement when something caught his eye. Through the thickness of shrines, torii, springs and vegetation, a large number of women, clad in finely spun white cloth and sumptuous fans, was moving about the premises, escorted by tengu-mask bearing drifters, now curiously walking in line like caged birds. For the Hidden Order of Basara, the flamboyantly dressed self-proclaimed guardian spirits claiming heritage from unacknowledged First Dragons, being seen in the company of the diviners and onmyoji of the royal astronomy house was very rare, even if the Queen Consort had previously lifted the age old census on their doctrine. It told the High Prince that something significant had happened, and he soon found that the display had caught Takumi's attention as well, who eyed it with apparent suspicion. He caught the gaze of his younger sibling and the two came to an understanding without exchanging a single word. They left the confines of Takumi's dwelling and ventured outside, quickly finding the moving column in the gardens and trying to identify a familiar face. It took a bit of effort, as the similar garbs and getup of the stargazers would sometimes make it difficult to get a good look at one's face, but they soon found the someone they had secretly been looking for.

Sat in the tall shade cast by a beautiful pink cherry tree, Orochi sat plainly in her usual get-up, counting the leaves of sakura that slowly fluttered down the glade.

' And so I've found myself in the company of two handsome princes.. ' She meandered with her eyes closed.

' Lady Orochi, would you mind telling us of the purpose of this display? ' Ryoma, speaking first after a short silence filled by the hefty sound of a leaf-carrying breeze, asked. Due to this woman being this late mother's (as he didn't make any distinction between his biological parent Ikona and the loving and doting Mikoto that had followed after her death) retainer for many years, he still retained a sense of respect for her, despite technically surpassing her rank by many, many stations. The old Hoshidan focus on seniority showing its head took Takumi by surprise, as he had not heard his brother use the proper honorifics for a while now. The war had been on everybody's mind. He wanted to speak up and reinforce the question with his own predictions but chose to abstain from doing so, as the diviner's suddenly outstretched arm caught both of their attention.

' ...The sky? '

' That's right. A few days ago, a big rumbling was heard and the stars' pattern was all distorted, an event so unnatural for this world that not even our oldest scrolls had any mentioning such a happening before. '

That took the younger prince by surprise, as he had quite a bit of knowledge about those scrolls, being able to access closely guarded replicates from a very young age where other aspiring historians would only have to do with hearsay and folklore.

' B-but those date back to a time before even Hoshido! Are you sure there's nothing in them?'

He spoke, to which she only shook her head and produced a warm smile.

' I did not take you for someone with an interest in mythicism, young prince.. Nevertheless, I speak of nothing but the truth. Such a heavy distortion in the celestial bodies can mean only one thing.. '

' A-and that is..? ' Takumi asked, daunted by the foreboding nature of her words. Talking about it seemed to increase her anxiety as well, as a light frown started to surface on her face and she let out a shoulder slumping sigh. Dusting off her frock and rising to her feet, she opened her eyes and revealed them to be void, or rather devoid, a trait shared by all divining stargazers. A sort of disconnection from the world. And that quirk was something he could live with, but Takumi wasn't sure she had heard his question because of this behavior.

' And that is? ' He repeated imperiously.

She looked him dead in the eyes.

' Interference. '


…...

…... Where was this place ….?

…. Was this.. ?

The swirly image of a musky tent, overstuffed with various works of detailed cartography, moldy tomes of ancient knowledge and figurines of war peons and rooks scattered all over the place blurred into vision. The square table in the middle restricted the movement with its robust corners and the brusque map spread over its sides, clad in innumerous markings and scribbles in bright red crayon and a shaky handwriting with a quill. Sat behind this mess on a chair was Robin, barely visible through the forest of trinkets and bookstacks, entertained in extended dialogue. Or, at least, that's how it appeared to be, because although friendly, it was a serious discussion of important matters that occupied him, or rather them, as his conversational partner seemed equally engaged.

' You have to realize that going into these troves is no mean feat, Chrom. On the logistical side we're potentially facing an organizational nightmare with managing these patrols, warding bands, food supply, resource convoys and their craftsmen. Are you sure you want to take the low road through the gorge? The Valmese don't have a great grasp on the environment here yet- recently conquered territory. We could nourish ourselves from the surrounding greenery and save majorly on our food storage but we can't do that if we take your proposed route, we -'

' Robin.'

' And then there's the issue of fatigue! We already had some deserters when the troops saw the armada go up in flames because of that little stunt I pulled earlier, but now- '

' Robin! '

That made him pause in the middle of his derailing little rant. He had a tendency for rambling, one that only increased the worse his disposition towards the war was. A modifier of words increasing exponentially with the level of stress. In stark contrast, the blue-haired, clear-headed Exalt in front of him simply reflected his worries with a beaming smile.

' It'll be fine. '

A simple statement backed up by a simpler smile, the expression Chrom displayed couldn't be further from the worrisome one Robin bore. It was a confident one, making Robin halt his rambling as it always did.

Showing signs of a grimace, he sympathetically furrowed his eyebrows and smirked at his friend.

' It'll be fine you say? I wish I could be that optimistic. How are you so certain the troops will simply comply? ' He questioned, expecting Chrom to mull over but instead being met, again, by a bold confident statement.

' They won't. '

' They won't? And why is that? ' Robin, now laughing, responded.

' Because as I trust in them, so too do they trust in me.'

Words that rang true, and characteristically wise coming out of such a seemingly thoughtless statement of childlike innocence. It was the natural flippancy and charisma Chrom possessed, thinly veiling a deep unconscious understanding of human emotion and morale. Empathy and sympathy working hand in hand, these were the qualities of a great leader and sovereign. Robin realized there was truth in his words and decided to drop the subject. He would simply have to adjust the plannings and accommodate the strategy without creating a big fuss, becoming the shadowy planner behind Chrom's bright leadership. Immediately, he pulled a parchment out of a drawer from his desk and gathered his measuring utensils, fully intending to cross- examine them with what little information the scouting outriders had return with to forge a new plan. But it was then when Chrom's next words struck.

' But do you trust me? '

The message perked Robin's ears, as it had struck him as odd considering their deep bond.

' What, of course I would, do you- '

' And can I trust you? '

That sound of that was so putrid and wretched that it immediately made him let go of all tools and launch back in his chair. The gargled, grumbling groan that slipped out of the Exalt's mouth jolted his reflexes and before he knew it he had grabbed for his blade, but no-! This was Chrom! This was his best friend and companion: Chrom! He forced himself to drop his sword with great effort and then pushed through to level a gaze on his counterpart, only to be repelled by the repulsing sight that met him; Ashen grey skin dotted by purple blobs from oxygen-deprivation slowly spreading and colorizing a disgusting yellow, the blue hair as thin and dry as straw and the body contorting in many abhorrent twisted positions as the mouth foamed with blood and saliva, perhaps the most striking feature of this terrifying display was the enormous cavity in his chest bursting into a wider gap every moment by the surge of electricity that burned at his insides. The magic flowing freely and violently from his heavily spasming figure, the revolting stench of burned flesh, blistered bones and fried blood violated the Tactician's nostrils as the guts and other innards sprang forth like a demonic umbilical cord. The last thing he saw were the bloodshot eyes, permanently focused on his face but struggling to do so as the physical trauma rolled them back into its cavities.

' Chrom? What in Naga's name is going on- I- ?! ' Every neuron in his headspace was telling him to act and he twisted every muscle and fiber to put himself into motion, but he was trapped; unable to move in a stasis, stuck in a time bubble as he saw his lifelong friend rapidly wither and decay into a rotting corpse, ridden with bulging warts and pulsating masses. Miraculously, there still seemed to be life in the blistered husk still as the neck mechanically reared his way and the gums flapped up and down, the rotting eyes of the corpse popping out more and more with every syllable uttered.

' How many more must die before you take your responsibility ?'

' No, Chrom you don't understand I had no- please, I- I had no other option! '

But the wailing pleas from a desperate Robin fell to deaf ears as the corpse turned into a carcass and a fouling stench revoltingly announced its existence on the room. Where this place of cherished memories was a safe haven at first, it now had its confines completely perverted by unholy energy, the darkness spewing forth the former Exalt suffocating.

And in this exit less nook Robin realized there was no way to leave, the torment would last forever. Pupils narrowing into barely visible dots, he threw his head back into the sky and let out a tormented scream at the top of his lungs, never to see the light of day. And then the room tore itself apart.