Here it is, folks.


.

I woke up more rested than I had expected, although it wasn't really restful. I rubbed at my eyes, trying to wipe away the dreams of war and death. This time, the nightmare had been centered on people being slaughtered like cattle. I had watched them die before my eyes. Both the guilty and the innocent.

I was starting to hope I could find something like a dreamless sleep potion in this world. Dreams just weren't worth it right now.

Using what water was left in my canteen, I cleaned my face and chanted under my breath, "Optimism, optimism, optimism..." Things would probably go to shit today, but I wasn't going to let the fear follow me.

"Fear will serve you well," someone had told a soldier, in my dream. His bared teeth were like the gigantic aged bones sitting outside Plegia Castle.

I shook my head, chanting louder. Fear would do me more harm than good.


What's a foolproof way to distract yourself from anxiety, when you can't be a recluse?

Nerd talk with Miriel!

"—which I think is kinda funny with how well it fits. I mean, we're both mages with "M" names, and the rune for "M" has the connotation for "magic" and "knowledge." I don't believe in fate or name fortunes, but it is a funny little coincidence."

As usual, I was all too eager to discuss the runes used in magic tomes. Her own enthusiasm rivaled mine.

"There are fascinating linguistic origins for the preponderance of syllabaries in our contemporary tomes. Incalculable records and archives perished from temporal disregardance, regrettably, which I endeavor to rectify at the soonest juncture."

Like I've said before, translating Miriel-speak wasn't impossible, it just took careful listening and some thought. "...Yeah, I get ya. There's that one rune—the one for "V"? None of the books I've read seem to agree on what its original meaning was, so people just say it's for something lost in the void or what have you. It's a bit too on the nose, but hey, I'm no scholar—"

"Hey, eggheads," Sully interrupted, drawing up beside us on her horse. "I gotta ask you something."

Miriel adjusted her spectacles, her irritation from being interrupted settling with an opportunity to educate a peer. "Certainly."

"...actually, Zant told me to ask you," the cavalier said, gesturing at me. My eyebrows rose as she went on, "What should I do with these scales he gave me?"

"Scales?" I blinked, wondering why in the world she had a pouch of them. "...oh, duh, he's a dragon, he probably sheds them."

Sully snorted. "Yeah, he does."

"I'm not sure why he told you to ask me, but..." I nearly fumbled when Sully tossed the pouch over. Loosening the tie to peer inside, I admired their sheen as I thought more on the subject. "Well, you could go Skyrim on them and make armor out of it."

"Skyrim?" Miriel, of course, wanted to understand every little reference from home I made. It became marginally less worth it to make them.

"Uh, it's a game about... never mind."

I picked one out to tilt it in the sunlight, squinting. Geezums, I could eat a sandwich offa these things.

"...yeah. I don't know anything about smithing armor, but if you added them to your breastplate or spaulders or shields, then these should obviously give you some more defense." Gotta thank Stahl later for the terminology lesson. "Probably not from wyrmslayers, but other things. And maybe make you a bit more fire resistant, considering the type of dragon he is. That'd be cool."

I turned it over. "These look like they're from his back, which are thicker than the ones on his underbelly. Remember the tournament in Ferox? He was like a wall. Dunno if it'll help against magical attacks, but I don't think it could hurt. Ooh, what if you added them to a weapon? If you could keep it well-balanced, then maybe... I wonder if the scales themselves could be used to keep some flames going? A flaming lance! Or sword! How cool would that be?"

With a shrewd glint in her eye, Miriel suggested, "We should conduct experiments to ascertain the myriad of alchemic possibilities—"

Quiet through my rambling, Sully cut in now with a loud, "Hell, no!"

"In the name of science, I implore you—"

"Science, my arse!"

I muffled a snort as I returned Sully's pouch. "Zant will pro'ly shed some more eventually. He's kinda covered in 'em."

"Yeah, well, you ask 'im then." She nudged her horse ahead, leaving me snickering beside an academically cockblocked Miriel. I wasn't sure what was funnier: The fact that Miriel was an excitable little nerd, or the fact that Sully hadn't expected that reaction the moment she'd brought it up. Probably the former. Was she pouting?

"Okay," I tried nudging her out of the sulk, "so we were talking about runes." Unclipping the purple tome at my waist, I directed her attention as I inquired, "So, this one, for "x"—"

And the spectacled scholar was back in commission, just as planned. "Ah, yes. I postulate it appears frequently in incantations for dark magic, as it betokens tenebrosity and the aspirations within..."

"Tenebrosity?"

"Tenebrosity, its root word meaning "darkness." "

"Ah, thank you. That would explain why a lot of dark magic incantations have "x" in them. In fact, the first few letters seem to be very important to the nature of the spell itself," I said, getting enthralled once more. What can I say, I'm weird. "But I'll bet it's not just dark magic that has connotations for dreams and wishes. I mean, that's basically what healing magic is."

"In a sense, although those arcane constructs are oft led by the rune of prophecy, as is common practice in ecclesiastical practices."

"In what practices?"

"Related to the clergymen and women of the church."

"Oh, thank you. But I imagine it's not across the board, because not every healing spell is a prayer to the gods, considering how nosferatu—"

A shout went up, interrupting the nerd talk. Our attention snapped forward as Chrom called for quiet, with Robin explaining that we were close to the Plegian border. A heavy stone settled in my gut. I snapped the tome closed and tucked it away, then passed my pack to a nearby cart with a whispered hex to keep it safe. I didn't need anything weighing me down. But I did snag a vulnerary, just in case.

Striding forward, I abused my slight frame to dive between Shepherds, apologizing as I went. This time was far less jovial than my escapade at Arena Ferox.

"Pardon me, excuse me, sorry sorry—"

"W-w-woman!"

"Super sorry, Lon'qu!"

I'm so glad I cut the tunic this morning so I can freakin' run.

As I was trying to figure out whether I wanted to try interfering with this "parley" or not, a familiar lance forced me to halt. Swallowing a squeak, I caught Frederick's stern look. He wasn't allowing a suspicious person near the royals at this pivotal moment. He probably thinks it's bad enough that Robin is there—and wow, how did I never notice Robin was taller than Chrom, that's hilarious. It was annoying to be excluded, but I understood I really didn't have a place in their "negotiations" anyway. I'm a faaangirl... in an FE woooorld.

Wait, this wasn't the time to be singing "Barbie Girl" parodies or cracking jokes, even in my head. A war was about to start, and I was at ground zero!

I was about to fight in a war.

Dammit, can't let the anxiety get to me.

Frederick had turned his attention back to the more important scene before us. Seeing the cliff at the border between Plegia and Ylisse, I was thankful that the tactical genius would be handling this confrontation once everything went to shit. This is MUCH different than a video game. Without the aerial view afforded by the game screen, I couldn't tell what sort of enemies and how many waited where—although even I knew the cliffs would be crawling with baddies at Gangrel's signal.

And there he was. Standing tall as fuck above us, with wild auburn hair and a cape so bright it rivaled the sun, was King Gangrel of Plegia. I couldn't see his expression from where I was, but his maniacal cackle rang overhead. A woman, presumably Aversa, stood beside him.

Holy shit, I can see her cleavage from HERE. Yeah, that was definitely Aversa.

"What's this, then? The Exalt herself, in all her radiance?" Gangrel brought a hand up, mocking, "I fear I must shield my eyes! Bwa ha ha ha!"

Gods, his laugh is ridiculous.

Emmeryn stood as the weathered rock to the man's violent storm, unfazed. Chrom already looked ready to start a fight, unfortunately. And Robin studied it all, preparing for anything and everything. Good. We'll need that battle plan. I glanced at Zant, but he was focused on the main attraction. At least him being here meant I wasn't the only one present with gamer knowledge.

Kail, PLEASE be safe.

Meanwhile, Emmeryn had asked about Maribelle.

"Who? Oh yes, the little blond brat." Gangrel snorted, gesturing a man forward with their hostage, bound and blindfolded. Details left out of the game.

"Wretched beast!" Oh, I could hear that from here, too. And man oh man, did I love what I heard. "Unhand me, you gutter-born troglodyte!" The fury in that woman's pinky toe would be enough to set a man on fire, and she was filled to bursting with the stuff. Rah, rah, fight the powah!

"This girl," Aversa lied, "crossed the Plegian border without our consent. And what's more... She wounded the brave Plegian soldiers who sought only to escort her safely home."

Right, I snorted.

"Lies," screamed Maribelle. "You speak nothing but lies, hag! Did they not teach the meaning of the word "truth" in wretched-crone school?!"

I swallowed a grin. Fuckin' GET 'EM, girl! Except she wasn't exactly in a position to piss off her captors right now. Shit. Okay, maybe later would be better for that.

Gangrel and Aversa were saying awful things about her, and she finally snapped when the king suggested reparations for this "slight." Stomping her foot, she cried, "I have done nothing wrong! It is they who should confess! They are the ones who invaded Ylisse. They razed an entire village!"

I thought of the farmers and merchants we had left just this morning, how surprised but elated they were to see the Exalt on their side. So many buildings had been destroyed...

"Let the plundered shops and charred homes of that village serve as my proof!"

I had appreciated Gangrel's sarcasm and theatrics as part of his character, but now I was witness to it and, like my thoughts on "Freddy Bear," I wasn't laughing in-person. He utilized it to deny blame and express mock-sympathy.

"That would only prove Ylisse has a bandit problem—something I hear oft of late..." Right. I'm sure you've heard of it, in the reports of successful raids, you cocky motherfucker. He was dismissive, going on, "But indeed, I shall weep salty tears into my pillow for your dead villagers."

I tried not to think about the bodies the villagers had spoken of in hushed tones. He was simply trying to disturb and rile us up.

Calm. Icy calm. I remembered what would happen. I needed to be prepared. I began silently mouthing the different spells I knew.

"Peace, Maribelle." Emmeryn's voice was a soothing reminder that there were level-headed people in charge. She won't be successful in keeping the peace, but who would be with pre-defeat Gangrel involved?

Staring the man down, she began, "King Gangrel." Damn, even now, she was respectful of the man's title. "I demand you release this woman at once." My features twitched as the word "demand" stood out immediately. Had the Exalt ever demanded anything of anyone before? "Surely you and I can resolve these affairs without the need for hostages."

An ill feeling crept down my spine, pooling in my gut. Things were going rather well—or at least, they were going to script. Sort of.

"Oh? Without so much as an apology? Why should I even bother with parley?"

I still couldn't help wondering about that "demand." First Chrom yelling at Frederick... now this.

"I'm within my rights to have her head and be home in time for supper."

"You black-hearted devil!"

"Control your dog, my dear, lest he gets someone hurt."

It was beginning to dawn on me that things could play out far, far differently from the story I knew, and there wouldn't be anything I could do about it. Hell, Emmeryn might not be as merciful as I expected her to be. Gangrel could be twenty times crueler. And Chrom could die before he fulfilled even a part of his role as hero prince. Variables, so many variables... the future ever-changing, mutable and unknown.

Oh, that anxiety was back. It was back as hell.

"Because I know the legend!" Gangrel's exclamation reminded me that negotiations hadn't ceased. Was he already bartering? "The Fire Emblem is the key to having all one's wishes realized. I have desired it for years. Years!"

Has he really? I couldn't think of a reason for him to lust for that artifact in particular, other than the flimsy one he had provided. Aversa is probably pushing him to get it, for Validar. He's deep in their pockets.

Emmeryn's inquiry for his "noble wish" made him bark, "I want what every Plegian wants: A grisly end to every last Ylissean! What could be more noble than that?" Is it inappropriate for me to be thankful that I don't fall under that category?

"What?"

Emmeryn was taken aback. I suppose hearing someone wanted your entire kingdom slaughtered would startle any ruler worth their salt.

"Surely you haven't forgotten what the last exalt did to my people. Your father named us heathens!"

Okay, religious persecution IS awful. My own personal beliefs had wandered from the flock.

"His "crusade" across Plegia butchered countless of my subjects and my kin!"

I winced. Religious persecution, AND mass genocide. Right. Those were almost always a package deal.

But, dude, your country worships the Fell Dragon. Y'know. The dragon who wants to destroy everything and kill everyone?

"...I have never denied Ylisse's past wrongdoings." The reminder seemed to have pained Emmeryn physically. I didn't blame her for regretting her father's sins. He was the one who had planted this hatred to germinate in the hearts of Plegia. "But I have sworn to never repeat those mistakes. Ours is now a realm of peace."

"Yours is now a haven of hypocrisy," Gangrel snarled back. "Now give me the Fire Emblem!"

Maribelle's head snapped around. "No, Your Grace! You mustn't!"

Voices were being raised. Arcane energy gathered in my fingertips. I watched as Frederick tensed, moving away with his lance to take a protective stance in front of Lissa. Yes, keep her safe! I took some steps forward, intent on doing the same.

Then I noticed the men who were approaching. Armed men. Oh shit, OH SHIT—

My hand snapped forward as I forced out an incantation. A fireball connected with a fighter's bare chest. He stumbled back with a cry, and I stared at the charred, weeping skin after the Falchion whistled through another soldier. That was my handiwork.

"Stay back, lest you all suffer the same fate!"

"Oh?" Gangrel said it as if he had already won. In a way, he had: He had accomplished what he'd come here to do. "Now that's a declaration of war if I've ever heard one. A big, messy war that will bleed you Ylisseans dry. Bwa ha ha!"

Falchion sang. Bodies dropped.

And so it begun.


Robin had already prepared a strategy, directing everyone into battle formations before telling Chrom to follow him for the forward charge. At first I wanted to scream at them to stay away from the conflict since they were going to be so integral to the survival of this world. But that wasn't a bombshell I could drop at the cusp of a pivotal battle. I had to hope they survived this.

No, I had to have faith in them. They were going to be heroes. I was sure of it.

I just have to hope that I survive this.

Zant and Lon'qu were sent westward, with Sumia overhead on her pegasus. I wanted to scream at them, but Robin intended for the trio to keep their forces from flanking the rest of us. I guess I shouldn't be too afraid when one of them was a dragon... but every life was hanging in the balance on this battlefield.

Please don't fuck up.

Following Robin's orders, I grabbed Lissa's arm to bring her to Emmeryn's side. There wasn't time to contemplate possibilities and what ifs; I had to protect them both. Thankfully, Phila was soaring far overhead with some of her own soldiers, contending with wyverns that had gone to the skies when all hell broke loose.

Head whipping about, I shouted to ensure Kellam's invisible wall of armor and Virion's bow were in position behind the royals I was to help protect. Stahl and Sully were on either side of the royal women, with Frederick covering the rear. We were to follow behind Chrom and Robin's lead. I was to fight alongside Miriel and Vaike in front, pushing forward and providing the lord and tactician ahead of us arcane support as Vaike kept us bookworms from losing our heads.

This was so much different from defending against a random Risen encounter. This was war. The thought of being near the front of the offense was terrifying—so I stopped thinking about it. Shut down my emotions to focus on the immediate.

The immediate was an incoming axe.

Vaike surged forward, deflecting it with a clang. Steel flashed as his own attack missed by a hair's breadth. It was one of Miriel's crackling fireballs that connected with the attacker's chest. He fell, and Vaike made quick work of him.

Ahead was Robin taking his sword out of another corpse. He nodded for Chrom to proceed him, and then cast an encouraging smile in our direction before moving forward.

"Don't worry," was the silent message, "we'll see this through."

Right.

I stepped around the man I had watched Miriel and Vaike defeat. Briefly glancing down, my gaze snapped back up to scan our surroundings. Focus. A few Plegians were coming from our left, trying to impede our progress. I sent wind-blades and tore through one man's shoulder. As he wasn't a flimsy reanimated corpse, his arm remained attached, but he had the awareness to feel pain and scream. Then an arrow sunk into his throat, shutting him up.

"What?" Vaike bellowed. "Dead already?!"

"Fancy that."

Part of my next wind-blades cut into the second man, but the third managed to evade and drew his arm back. I ducked. Something whistled over my head. Before I could retaliate, dark orbs exploded a few feet to my right, throwing me to the ground. A dark mage was giving her comrades time to draw their axes to hurl or charge with.

"We are required on the path ahead," Miriel reminded as I scrambled back up.

Teeth grinding, I focused on the dark mage. My first spell missed, but the anger fueled me. Trading blows, I puffed with vindictive triumph when my gale spell finally connected with her skull. Her headdress fell to the ground. Miriel's magic exploded against the nearby fighters. Two hadn't fallen, but they had gotten within range of Stahl's sword, and Kellam's javelin.

When our path was finally cleared, I forced my gaze away and followed Vaike's march after Chrom, not wanting to linger around the stench of scorched flesh. Its comparison to Risen miasma wasn't important right now.

Miriel caught my attention with a raised hand. "I have a suggestion," she began.

"Paraphrase." A battlefield wasn't the proper place to dissect context clues. Our need to pause conversation for another Plegian squad from the west emphasized that point. A few good hits on Vaike forced him to Lissa's side for a break.

Pursing her lips, Miriel obliged. "They do not envisage us to utilize dark magic against them."

I picked my way carefully at the start of the slope, arm shooting out to keep her steady. "Yeah, but it's not as accurate as wind magic."

"You needn't land every spell," Miriel argued. "Merely the phenomena will befuddle. Disorientation is a hazard—" A sound like an amplified war horn swallowed the rest of her sentence, coming from the west. Sounds like Zant's hard at work already. The fliers who couldn't find safe places to land came down hard, screaming. I had to look away, and focus.

Miriel was right. If I could cast dark magic discreetly, even a miss would be useful. It was something to keep in mind as we made our way up the path.

And I preferred thinking about ways to be useful so I could ignore the fact that I had just helped kill—no, killed several men and women—

"Chrom!"

Lightning sizzled through the air, striking a mage crouched at the cliff's edge. Chrom's thanks were shouted over the din of combat. His white cape snapped at the top of the slope, heavily contrasting with Robin's dark cloak. They were beacons, the flashes of color distracting me from a deadly downwards spiral.

Shadowy fingers crept along the ground to grab Robin, but he leapt out of range, thankfully covered by Chrom's Falchion.

Remembering my role, I picked up the pace to finally crest the last portion of the hill and search for any sign of the dark mage who had to be nearby. Vaike nearly barreled past me, he was so eager to fight. The warm breeze at my back signaled Miriel preparing another spell.

Where are they?

A cry of pain snapped my attention to Chrom, who had dark wisps fading from his person. Lissa shouted. As he was clutching his chest and angled a certain way, my search went towards the northwest and caught sight of a copse where another orb came shooting from.

There's the asshole! I pointed the area out for Miriel, and decided to implement her earlier suggestion.

While Vaike grabbed one axe-wielder's attention, I sent dark orbs towards another's feet before he could join in the fray. He shouted over his shoulder, fortunately not connecting that the angle was completely wrong for that to have come from his comrade. It was surprising that I could practice discretion in this environment. This slip led to an opening for Chrom's blade in their ensuing duel. Blood splattered the lord's boots. He wrenched Falchion free from the body, and Vaike came forward once more to finish the job.

They shared a look, Vaike clapping Chrom's shoulder with a grin, before Lissa waved her healing staff and Robin called the lord ahead. And then darkness claimed my vision.

I choked on icy mist. Was something suffocating me?

I can't die, I CAN'T, I can't I can't don't let me die—

It passed. I heard Miriel's incantation before wind-blades seared overhead and into the leg of the dark mage who had caught me off guard. He fell. I blinked away tears, watching as fire woofed around him, cutting off his cries for help.

Giving a noise of disgust, Miriel told me, "We must persevere." The logical note almost covered the concern as she examined me.

I have to stay strong. A cold neutrality sinking in, I pushed away thoughts of dying and screams and charred flesh. My jaw locked shut until the moment to thank her had passed.


Cries in the distance motivated us to continue on through the Plegian forces. Chrom and Robin hadn't stopped, and we needed to speed up if we were to keep providing arcane support. Thankfully, it appeared there was a small respite. At the very least, no one was leaping out at us. I couldn't help the paranoia as we marched, sending a glance back at the princess and the Exalt. I had almost forgotten Emmeryn was there. This was when I saw Lissa's face turn chalk white.

"No," she breathed, barely audible over the heavy thumping of my heart.

I whipped back around, barely registering the sight of ginger and blonde and blood before an ear-splitting roar announced a wyvern diving for our heads.

A dark sphere from my palm caught its face, but it still dove. An arrow went wide. And it barely whiffed over Chrom's head.

NO!

"Chrom," Lissa yelled again, panicking. She tried to move forward, but Vaike held her back as Stahl shouted something about her safety.

Lightning arced and struck the wyvern's leg as it passed overhead, attempting to get out of range of our archer.

But Virion seemed too shaken to aim right. He was as white as his cravat while he fumbled another shot.

"Fuckin' hit it!" My heart was pounding so hard it hurt my chest.

Miriel released blades of wind that caught the beast's underbelly. Robin was trying to help Chrom with Plegians on the ground—which the wyvern rider took advantage of, aiming for him on another dive.

Virion once again missed, and an axe lodged into Robin's shoulder.

Magic seared my fingertips as I knifed a hand diagonally, putting as much force into the gale spell that ripped into the wyvern's wing membrane. I managed to keep my footing, heels digging into the ground, and watched as the wyvern missed its landing and stumbled over the side of the cliff. Man and beast screamed on the way down.

"I-I'm terribly sorry," Virion stammered while Lissa mended the tactician's wound. "I—I'm not sure what—"

"It's okay," I lied on automatic, because he needed to hear it, "but aim and focus, or someone's going to—"

"Ricken!"

"—die."

Oh, fuck.

My thoughts silenced themselves at the sight of Ricken on the ground, being attended to by someone with a staff. Blood mixed with dirt and gravel. I hadn't just imagined it, like I'd hoped.

Tears streamed down his face as he clutched his right arm. Or... what was left of it.

With the way cleared of enemies, Lissa pushed past me and Vaike to see what she could help with. It was more productive than I was, staring at the boy missing his arm below the elbow, a yawning sense of failure in my gut.

I did this, came the thought. This is my fault. I did this.

"You are trembling," Miriel noted.

No fucking shit, I was trembling. I was in the middle of a war zone watching people get hurt all around me and so much of it was my fault.

Keep calm, don't break down, stay strong, FOCUS— Something crackled in my ears.

Clenching fists at my sides, Mental Shutdown Mode returned as I turned my gaze to another soldier covering Chrom and Robin's push north. The stranger was in full dark knight gear, complete with helmet, wielding sword and spells to harry the Plegians that were left. Their armor was dark as night. Comforting.

But they weren't a foe. That was all that mattered.

My attention shifted to the path ahead of them, where a trio of dark mages held a line at the top of the slope, behind the swords and axes blocking our climb. Miriel was already combating them with occasional assistance from Robin's thunder, but all of the spell-slinging strayed near the stranger aiding Ricken. I launched forward thanks to another gale, bringing me to Robin who was successfully fielding the assaults aimed in the prince's direction.

The sight of electricity crackling against hexes like an arcane shield was something I'd file away for experimentation.

Vaike tangled with another fighter, aiming to protect the group of healers now by Ricken's side.

Robin's sword was then turned onto the myrmidon heckling him as he told me, "Keep their mages occupied!"

Another myrmidon slipped around him to try disemboweling me. But lightning bolts pierced through the air to impale the man's gut and force a retreat. There wasn't time to thank the dark knight responsible. Ricken's life was still in danger. I had a job to do.

The dark mages had turned their attentions to Robin, but the spells that weren't off-course tangled with my wind-blades. With that, I became a target.

And that was fine.

Protect them at all costs.

Ricken's sob from behind spurred me on. I heard Miriel speak, yet the words of caution sat in the back of my mind as I thought protect, protect, protect.

I clawed at the air, and little dark tears in the fabric of reality threatened the Plegians and further botched their aim. Spells exploded around me. Although emotions didn't breach my expression, I poured them into the arcane and the dark. And the magic fed on that. I didn't relent.

"She's a dark mage," a Plegian shouted. "Traitorous bitch!"

Then there was cold darkness in my palms. And this time I didn't miss. Strike, strike. The dark mage that had shouted stumbled. I heard Chrom's name, but I had to focus on my opponents.

Miriel threw fire from my side as the mages attacked in sync—the air above our heads crackled with power. I got the brunt of something, stumbling and coughing through the purple smoke. I slung spells that missed, and fell on my side to avoid another explosion.

"I don't think so," Robin came in, lightning dancing across the distance. Yet they threw more obscuring darkness. The mysterious dark knight galloped from the side, releasing layered blades of arcane wind that sliced the space between the Plegians. They were forced to separate or become deli meat. Unfortunately, they were defending themselves rather well otherwise.

Let's fix that. I spat, pulling myself up again.

Elder magic was less accurate, yes. I threw icy clouds at each dark mage and wasn't surprised that they moved out of the way. But it had forced them even farther apart, and one stumbled into Miriel's fireball while the dark knight charged another.

The third tried to take the opportunity to toss a hex between Miriel and me. We both attempted to parry it, with explosive results. My dark magic twisted her flames, until a woof of purple hellfire shot across the battlefield, catching Robin's opponent on its way back to the dark mage.

Unfortunately, there was also friendly fire. Both of us were sent flying backwards by the blast. It was only thanks to Vaike's strong arm that Miriel didn't slam into the huddled healers.

I wasn't nearly as lucky.

"Megan!"

FUCK!

Rolling, I scrabbled at the ground. I screamed for my life as I dangled, halfway over the edge.

"Megan, hold on—ugh!"

I needed a better grip, I needed help up, I needed someone to stop that dark mage readying a spell or gods above and below I was going to die here.

I felt magic exploding somewhere; it rumbled through the ground, rattled my bones, and dislodged some of the rocks I hung from. I screamed, "Help me!" I was sitting at the top of the rollercoaster without seatbelts and I wanted off this ride now.

I was slipping. Nonono NOT WHAT I MEANT—

Clattering hooves approached, followed by weighted footsteps. I panicked and scrabbled for a second hold. Someone shouted. Head snapping up, I had enough time to see that it wasn't an enemy's outstretched hand before my grip started giving out.

"AAAH—"

But Frederick hauled me up like I weighed nothing, nearly dislocating my arm in the process. "Don't get careless," he snapped. The sensation of nearly falling to my death lingered as nausea and panic. I couldn't let go of him, wanting precious security.

"Th-ank... you." Shit, the trembling was back. This wasn't the time—

The great knight hoisted me onto his steed behind him. He didn't need to instruct me to hold on before he spurred the horse onwards. "You will guard the Exalt and Lady Lissa with your life."

"Yes," I responded immediately, snapping back into business mode. Push it all DOWN, no time to freak out. He had likely decided I was better use serving double-duty as a guard and a patient. Reasonable. I could do that.

I glanced north towards the top of the slope, and noticed Plegian reinforcements preparing to run down and meet our steel.

Change of fucking plans.

Fuck, shit, DAMMIT—

Feeling the energy crackling against his armor, Frederick was understandably upset when he shouted, "What are you doing?!"

"Stopping them!"

And I couldn't waste anymore of my time or breath to explain, short as I was on both. I could see the mysterious dark knight galloping around Lissa and them. Frederick and I were closer to the enemies. I didn't have a particular incantation in mind. But I had the willpower inherent in elder magic; that was where I'd start.

I focused my attention near the top of the slope. Drawing a fortifying breath, I sent darkness racing across the ground to draw an arcane line across the path. Frederick slowed to angle away from obvious dark magic. I swept a tongue of fire across this barrier; it immediately lit up with purple flames, forcing the faster Plegians to halt or risk magical burns. But I wasn't going to leave it at that. The fires would die quickly if left as they were.

Purple energy seared my hand, and I gasped as pain tore through my chest. But I threw it like javelin, telling the magic it had to protect.

"Stay back!"

The dark fires flared with a snap, climbing high enough that I couldn't see over them. If they had been normal flames, the heat would've explained my following dizziness—but these ones seemed to leech it from the surrounding air. I could see my breath puff out for the few seconds it took Frederick's horse to get out of range of the effect.

The moment Frederick brought us to a halt, I slumped over the side. Vaike caught me only to have me coughing against his shoulder.

"Megan, I'm so glad you're—oh!" Lissa helped me sit down. Well, it was more like she guided my fall. "Don't move!"

"Damn," I wheezed. "That's... exactly what I was going to—" My body interrupted my attempt at humor, forcing me to curl up and hack my lungs out. Swiping my tongue around, I tasted the tang of blood. Great.

"I have never seen a spell like that, without an arcane matrix," Emmeryn murmured beside me. She was still here? Well, not like there was much a place for her to go. But it was dangerous, and... my thoughts were scattered. She continued, "Where did you learn of it?"

I didn't know how to tell her I had made it all up on the fly. I took a theory and ran with it? A final coughing fit made me lift a hand to catch the blood.

"Oh, my."

Staring at my red palm, I croaked, "Uh... side note, Your Highness: Don't do that."

So elder and arcane magic was dangerous without proper preparation, just like light magic. Who'dah thunk?

Miriel approached, lips pursed. "I will edify you with a thorough revision of proper arcane safety protocols, once this battle is finished." I didn't like the sound of that.

"Heads-up," Robin called behind us. "We've got more injured!"

Seeing an unconscious Zant supported by Sumia and Lon'qu did nothing to make me feel better. The nausea prevented me from leaping up to help, but I told Lissa to focus on the manakete instead of me. Gods, what's wrong with his LEG? He was a dragon, for crying out loud!

"But you need healing, too!"

"But I don't have any fucked up limbs," I snapped back. Despite the close-calls, I hadn't broken any bones... yet. "Priorities, Lissa!"

I tensed, immediately cursing myself out. She didn't deserve that. She was my friend, and I desperately needed those right now. Maribelle glared at me over Ricken's head, holding a borrowed staff. The hot wash of shame forced out a softer "sorry." Lissa took it with a strained smile before turning to help the Exalt with Zant.

I rolled the vulnerary around my palm. The taste wouldn't mix well with blood.

Robin confirmed with Sumia and Lon'qu that the southern end of the slope was protected thanks to Zant blocking it with giant boulders. His quick thinking had unfortunately not accounted for his own safety, hence the broken leg. Goddammit, Zant. And we had the mysterious dark knight patrolling near my unnatural barricade, ensuring Plegians couldn't work around it. Had someone gotten their name yet?

"H-hey."

I realized someone was talking to me, and blinked. The stranger who had been healing Ricken was now facing me, a shaky smile on her face. She looked pretty young—probably only a little older than Ricken—and nowhere close to war material. But she seemed to be taking it all in stride. There was a decent amount of blood on her robes, and she waved her own staff before I could think to protest.

"Hi," I breathed, keeping it short to avoid another coughing fit. Staves were for healing, not hydrating.

She seemed to struggle for a conversation, probably to keep the mood from dropping into despair. But we were sitting in the middle of a battlefield, tending to our wounded and waiting for the fighting to start anew. It wasn't exactly prime time for chitchat.

Still, she tried.

"Sooo... come here often?"

I choked on a laugh, and then on some coughs. That was terrible. But I could appreciate terrible senses of humor right now.

"Oh, you know," I managed. "Every day. Lovely mornings strolls through the valley of death." It got her to giggle.

Before I could think of another morbid joke, her eyebrows shot up as she squeaked, "Uh, where are you going?" This drew my attention to Lon'qu who, surprise-surprise, was trying to get away from the congregation of women.

He didn't answer, taking another step away, but Robin clasped his shoulder. "Let the healers do their jobs."

"I-I don't need healing from these women."

The stranger straightened up, good humor evaporating into a Scolding Mother Look. Oh, boy. She marched over before he could get away from Robin, grabbing a hold of his arm to drag him into the healing circle. Seeing a young girl nearly half his height manhandle him was both funny and worrying. He really COULD be murdered by a girl with a spoon.

"Ohhh, no. You're sitting right here—" And she forced him down, in-between me and unconscious-Zant. "—and letting me heal you, or I'll hogtie you and heal you that way!"

Lon'qu sat still as stone while she began waving her staff over him. I could see his knuckles turning white from gripping his knees. Was he shaking? Or was I, from the aftermath of almost dying?

I almost died. I ALMOST DIED.

My face twisted. NO. I needed a distraction. Schooling my expression, I asked the stranger, "What's your name?"

She nearly dropped her staff. "What? Oh, uh, sorry—I get so focused on healing that I just kinda forget to... yeah! Right!" She finished waving it before holding out her hand. "Call me Val, m-ma'am!"

"Cool. Val." I accepted the handshake, hoping she didn't feel the trembling. "Well, I'm Megan. You just healed Lon'qu, who... has some issues with females." He shot me a look. "What, it's the truth." And someone had to keep him from being beaten up by more women.

Val giggled at the exchange, spinning around to tend to Sumia. "My brother has issues with people—so I totally get it!" She didn't, but I wasn't going to correct her.

"I have some brothers too," I found myself saying instead. As if this was the time to be thinking about them. My wandering gaze landed on Ricken's ginger hair, and focused on it to avoid looking at his arm. It's about as red as my youngest brother's. That was probably why they came to mind.

"Cool!" Val gestured north. "That's my brother up there. Uh, with the helmet. Sai. He's... not very talkative." That neatly answered most of my questions.

"We are grateful for your help," Emmeryn spoke up. She sat back, evidently finished with restoring Zant's good health. "The both of you protected and tended to our friends."

"Aww, it was nothin', ma'am! We're happy to—"

A screech carried over the cliff, cutting the smalltalk short. Val tensed, smile frozen on her face.

Well, it was nice while it lasted.


With our dragon and flier down, and many of Phila's own pegasus knights out of commission, we were at a disadvantage where air dominance was concerned. But we still had wind magic and arrows. Ignoring Lissa's warnings, my fraying coat rippled with the spells I prepared to conjure.

"Get ready," I told Virion. "Make those shots count." His "dashing" smile was rather grim, so I gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

I could imagine how much pressure he felt, after his earlier screw-ups. Of course, this was life-and-death kind of mistakes. But repeatedly berating him wouldn't make his aim any better. Never did for me.

"Here they come!"

Seven forms came over the topmost cliff. An axe spiraled through the air, but Miriel deflected it. I ducked as air rushed overhead, tossing spells at the wyverns' underbellies. The leader—what was his name again?—lifted his axe as a rally.

"Take out these Ylissean dogs!"

A pegasus dived, but one of his henchman intervened. Their weapons collided, metal clanged, and then separated as wind went slicing through the air between them.

I grabbed both Val and Lon'qu to force them down as another wyvern made its pass. The healer was trembling, but Lon'qu was surprisingly not. He's in Defend Mode. His sword sang when he stood again.

"Lon'qu—" He sliced too fast for me to track and made a hit. Blood splattered on all three of us before the wyvern slid down the slope. I heard Val whine in disgust. "What is with you and dueling dragons?!" He ignored my scolding.

"Focus."

I leapt to my feet, pushing aside the lingering aches to conjure dark magic. "You focus!" The wyvern I aimed for shot upwards and out of range.

"This is not the time to argue—"

Something ripped through my right shoulder—the same one as before. This time the cut was deeper. I had a horrifying moment of being unable to feel the rest of my arm before the tingle of healing magic gradually returned its function. Val stood, shaky but on her feet.

I released my shoulder, conjuring freezing clouds and getting some satisfying hits on one wyvern and its rider. He slid over the side when an arrow finally lodged into his torso. "Nice shot, Virion!" Was that two down?

"But of course!"

I whipped my head around. Frederick was dealing with the Plegian who had managed to outlast the wyvern Lon'qu downed. The air vibrated with shrieks, and it was messing with my head. I noted Miriel staggering for Lissa's healing staff, glasses askew and robes bloody. Oh, FUCK—okay, she's not dying. Fucking axes. A glance skywards proved the only things keeping us from drowning in wyverns and axes were the few pegasus knights still in the air, and the smaller target we made on the slope for their larger beasts. They couldn't all strike at once or they'd risk crashing into each other. Pegasi were far more maneuverable.

In all of this chaos, someone called for me. Robin was making his way over, slinging lightning to ward off another diving wyvern.

"Megan!" Nearly stumbling over Val, he gave a short apology as he grasped my shoulder. "That barrier you made earlier—can you repeat it?"

"Uh—" Couldn't hesitate now. "That was just something I threw together, I'm not sure I can—"

"Even if it's less powerful," he explained hurriedly, "it could protect the Exalt and the injured. Can you try?"

Protect.

"Yes." It came out without warning, and I nearly panicked when he moved away. He's leaving it at that?! I snatched his shoulder, blurting, "Wait! You—you did something with lightning earlier, it worked like a spell shield—"

"Yes—"

He dove forward, forcing me and Val down. She screamed when a wyvern snapped at our heads. That's IT.

I pushed her towards Lon'qu, ordering, "Keep her safe." His phobia could wait until we all got out of this alive. I barely heard him agree before I was turning to Robin. "How did that work?"

Discussing magical theory had no place on the battlefield. I just needed a basic framework. A more controlled experiment could happen later. Thanks to Robin's concise explanation, ideas finally took shape in my head as I examined the area I had to work with. I quietly tested the new incantations we had concocted together.

It'll work.

With this, I crouched beside Miriel, who Lissa had just finished mending. The axe had done some real damage on her. "Can you use magic still?"

"...yes." Miriel adjusted her spectacles, light catching the lenses. "Were you planning on sharing the methods to your melding of the dark and anima schools of—"

"Later. I need you to help with a different spell." Because I wasn't sure I had enough in me to do it on my own. My barrier was just a straight line; this was a bit more complicated.

"What manner of spell—"

An explosion interrupted Miriel; thanks to my line of sight, I saw it was from some Plegian fool who had tried to leap through the dark flames. The woman's scream was like a needle to my temple. I swallowed and looked away, trying not to think about my magic devouring her corpse.

Seeing my expression, Miriel pursed her lips. "What spell?"

She caught on quick, holding in her need for further analysis. Once the royals and injured we were to protect had clustered together, and we were in position on either side, I shouted, "Everyone covered in metal, stand back!" Energy crackled, then snapped into place. Miriel's lightning arced up, anchored by the dark magic I had sunk into the ground. Electricity branched across the arcane matrix. It wasn't quite a dome, but it was close.

"Fascinating," Miriel commented.

The Plegians were getting antsy. Running out of throwing axes, the wyvern riders were getting dangerously close to simply sweeping Shepherds off of the cliff. I counted three wyverns left, unless the others just fucked off. With the zeal these guys exhibited, it wasn't likely.

Arrows protruding out of its wings, the leader swept upwards into the sun. I was surprised it could manage that. Another made a pass that finally swept off Miriel's hat, sending it tumbling through the wind. When had I lost mine? The third shrieked behind me, and an explosion of energy from the shield revealed it had tried to approach—and was summarily shocked, sent crashing into the slope ahead.

That left two wyverns airborne. One which was circling back around, its glide listing slightly, and... wait, had someone taken out the other? Robin was gesturing wildly, but I couldn't hear him over another roar.

My question was cut off as something like a freight train rammed into me. I bounced like a fucking beach ball. I couldn't breathe as I was dragged through the dirt. Was I actually going to fall over the edge this time?

When the dust settled and I realized I was pinned beneath sharp talons, I almost wished for another cliff-hanging adventure.

The Plegian captain peered over his mount. "Take down the shield," he shouted, "or this one's wyvern food!"

The rest of the world seemed muted as I stared into a gaping maw, the fangs glistening as the wyvern's hot breath washed over me. Was this how Frederick had felt when Zant pinned him down?

At least he'd had armor. At least Chrom could call Zant off.

At least he hadn't died.

NO!

With a scream, I put everything I had into the palms restricted beneath its foot.

Of course, there was no way my twig arms could pick up a wyvern. It probably weighed a ton. So I went for wind magic, the strongest gale I could manage. I felt the magic tearing my skin from the proximity. But the wyvern was only barely leaning away, and it was probably going to crush me when it came back...

A javelin—no, a hammer of electricity slammed into the beast's chest.

Blood trickled as the wyvern screamed with me, thrashing its head and nearly throwing off its rider. I wriggled, a talon catching my front, and managed to roll before it placed all of its weight forward. It stumbled as I crawled away. Everything ached. Something felt off. I was drenched in blood.

Hands appeared, forcing me to stay on the ground as my body started tingling. Conversation mostly went over my head. Turned out, one of my legs were broken by the impact, as well as a rib or two. I could tell Zant that we were injury-buddies once he woke up. At least his dragon-y hide protected him against injuries from wyvern talons.

Was this shock? Probably. How many times had I nearly died in the past hour?

Cool fingertips forced my gaze to meet Val's. Her eyes were dark, her lips in a tight line. Losing a patient was probably the worst part of a healer's job.

Well, I wouldn't want her and Lissa to have to live with my death, so... Once I could focus, I forced my sticky hand into a fist, then stuck out a thumb. Light magic couldn't numb everything, but I smiled through the pain. It probably looked a bit manic. I wanted to say "put me in coach," but the words wouldn't form.

Val tried mirroring me, looking just as insane, and tended to my bloody hands next.


I didn't know how exactly we won. Whether or not the last wyvern riders were killed, how many casualties were on our side, etc.

And for a while I didn't really care.

A strange sort of numbness had settled in my chest, and my head felt like it was full of mist. I knew it probably wasn't smart to dissociate right now, but I didn't stop it.

My smile felt plastic as Lissa, finally free from the magic shield, helped me to my feet. (Had Miriel or Robin taken it down? Did I really care enough to ask?) The smile fell immediately afterwards when I couldn't stand on my own. The princess was too small a prop, but then Sumia took her place with a few soft words.

"That was amazing." The pegasus knight sounded out of breath, and tired. I couldn't blame her. "That—that magic shield thing."

I nodded. My tongue felt like damp wool. "Miriel and Robin helped." No way in hell I would've managed that on my own.

"Wow... I didn't know spells could be used like that."

Since I didn't know what else to say, I just nodded again. It had been amazing, sure. The shield worked, even warding away the wyverns with the threat of however many volts searing through their insides. But it all had taken so much out of me that I literally couldn't walk on my own right now. The pros didn't exactly outweigh the cons.

She carefully deposited me on the ground beside a stirring Zant. Staring at him, I was suddenly hit by the relief that we had made it through this.

We were alive. That was a fucking miracle.

But I knew it was only the first step on a long journey to getting home. If we could get home. Signs were pointing to "no way in hell" on that one.

I didn't fucking sign up for this.

Zant woke up to a teary smile. The dragon took a moment to take in his surroundings, then grinned.

"So I take it we won?"

.


So this is what I meant, when I said not everything was going to be fun and games in this fic.

I'm the kind of person always trying to make others laughand I love writing the funny stuffbut when shit hits the fan, well, it's not pretty. This chapter took so long for me to finish because I didn't want it to be just another fight. This was THE FIGHT. The first real one of the war, and the first one where Megan had to fight against other human beings instead of reanimated corpses, with all of the psychological issues that entails.

I hope you aren't turned away because of the drastic mood shift. Don't worry, the funny will be back! But this has left its mark on the characters, and it's nothing to sneeze at.

(Insert obligatory morbid "need a hand" joke here, because my humor can be morbid and also I'm an awful person. I'm sorry, Ricken! I'll write something super fluffy for you to make up for this!)

Fun fact: If you didn't already think I was awful, I originally wanted to post this chapter on Ricken's birthday, May 23rd. It didn't work out, unfortunately.