Hello, everybody! I am back and I am not dead. Finally after so long I have uploaded another chapter. Apologies for taking so long, life got in the way and I had little time to write, so these past couple have weeks has been me trying to get back into the swing of things. But now that I have some breathing room, I should be able to get back to my uploading schedule of a chapter per month, two if I'm really diligent. Anyways, sorry for the long wait and I hope you guys enjoy.
Chapter 9: Return
"Alright, you two. Do you have everything in check?" Frederick asked Ian and Chrom with the two men standing by their horses.
"Check," Ian answered while he tried to suppress a laugh, hiding his amusement.
"Check," Chrom said with a bit more chaff, his heavy armor creaking under his shifting weight. He looked at Ian with an annoyed scowl, "Though why am I the only one that has to wear this?"
"For your protection, milord," Frederick answered matter of factly with his hands at the small of his back.
"And what about the pillows? Why on earth do I have pillows on my armor?"
"To protect everyone else," Frederick said again simply.
"Don't you think this is going a little bit overboard though? Not even just a little?" Chrom tugged at his neck piece while droplets of sweat trickling down his face. "It's worst than a sauna in here!"
"I fear this may not be enough…"
"I have never seen you have so little faith in Chrom before, Frederick," Ian said with mild astonishment. "Normally I see you building him up, but now it just seems like you expect him to fall."
Frederick sighed, "If you had seen the amount of damage he caused when he was younger, you would too."
"Worst than when he is training with Falchion?"
"Far, far more worse."
"I'm right here, you know!" Chrom protested as he struggled to move. "My riding skills are not that bad!"
Frederick sighed once more before he merely shook his head in woe, "...We will see very soon," he then walked over to his own mount.
With Frederick checking over the necessary equipment for his horse, Edna, who was unarmored and revealing her shining auburn coat, Ian nudged Chrom's fluffy metal arm and whispered, "Hey, how was the honeymoon?"
"Huh? Oh, it was good. We went south, down to the beach."
"The beach, huh? Not bad, makes sense around this time of year too."
"Yep. Warm sand. Cool, beautiful oceans. Ran into one of the Anna shopkeepers there and got us some swimsuits. Olivia was hesitant to put them on at first."
"Really now? That's a little unexpected, what with her… normal clothing choice and all."
"Yeah. But once she did, everything was a blast from there. You should see the way she blushes, I still can't get over that."
"Any funny business?" Ian asked with a grin.
Chrom flushed with a light shade of pink but laughed it off before looking away, scratching the back of his head, "Yeah, I guess you can say there was."
Ian gave Chrom a light punch on the shoulder, causing both men to begin another round of laughs.
After several minutes the two calmed down and Ian paused, a slight epiphany forming in his head before he asked, "Wait, so you said you went south, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Which part of south?"
Chrom mused for a second, "Um… I think it was somewhere near Southtown?"
Ian's mouth slowly gaped open in disbelief, "Southtown?"
"What's wrong?"
"You idiot. That's where I was planning to go originally! That's why I've been taking riding lessons just to get there-"
"Ahem."
Chrom and Ian turned to find Frederick bringing his hand down from his interruptive cough with Edna's reins in the other. The skin on his forehead creased showing his already growing skepticism before he commenced the lesson, "Now before we begin, I would like to ask you two: What is the most important thing to know about learning to ride a horse?"
"That horses are living beings like humans and need to be treated with respect?" Chrom guessed.
"There's something between us all?" Ian asked. "Something that keeps man and horse together… Like… invisible ties, connectin-"
"That learning to ride a horse requires a tremendous amount of practice and takes an extremely long time to master. It is not something you can learn overnight and will definitely take months to consistently perform the very basics," Frederick deadpanned.
"Oh."
The great knight gave another long winded sigh, and then another after that, even more than what was necessary before motioning to the leather seat on Edna's back, "The saddle is one of many, but definitely the most important tool required to horseback riding. The primary purpose for the saddle simply is to ensure that the rider is both comfortable and stable when riding. But just like people… As milord aptly put it, all horses come in different sizes and thus all saddles must be adjusted for that horse's individual growth," he pointed to Chrom's and Ian's respected steeds. "Adjustments have already been made for those two, but over time with your training their saddles will also need to be fixed to adjust to their growing size. I will teach you how later."
He then turned to Edna and motioned her to the side so only her left flank was showing, "When mounting your horse, traditionally you will want to mount from the left side. Do this calmly, milord, so to make sure it is aware of your presence. Do you understand, milord?"
"Yes, Frederick. I understand," Chrom said with a wooden face. Ian snickered.
"Good. Now gently take the reins in your left hand," Frederick brought up his hand and then slowly grasped the rope. "And with your right hand, turn the stirrup," he took the metal supports for the rider's feet and rotated them outwards. "So you can now mount. Place your left foot in the stirrup and then swing your right foot over the horse. Gently sit down in the saddle."
Frederick turned to Chrom with a telling frown, "Remember, milord. Do not pull the reins at all while you are mounting your horse or you will hurt and frighten it. Never under any circumstances."
"Yes, Frederick, I understand."
"Do you pull the reins while mounting your horse?"
"No, Frederick."
"Which side do approach your horse before mounting?"
"The left side."
"How?"
"Calmly."
"Which hand do you take the reins?"
"Left."
"Which hand do you grab the stirrup?"
"Right."
"Which foot do you put in the stirrup first?"
"Left."
"Which leg do you swing-?"
"How come you're not asking Ian any of these questions? He's also learning how to ride too."
Frederick's brows lowered and he pursed his lips before turning to the tactician, "Which leg do you swing over the horse?"
"Right leg, Frederick."
"Good," Frederick looked satisfied. "Now we can go into practice. I want you two to follow the steps I just told you and put them to use. Turn to your horses."
Chrom gave Ian a sheepish look that colored vexation and Ian simply shrugged. The two men looked at their respected horses and followed Frederick's instructions to the letter. Very soon they found themselves sitting on top, slightly wobbling, but nonetheless on top.
"Hey! Look at that! I'm on a horse!" Chrom exclaimed in excitement.
"Me too!" Ian looked just as ecstatic. "This feels way more uncomfortable than I thought it would be but it works!"
"Remember when riding to use your legs to balance yourself. Your legs should be parallel to your body and must be straight at all times. Tighten your grip to maintain stability."
"You know, this ain't so bad," Ian laughed.
"See, Frederick? I told you I can ride a horse! You just had to give me the chance," Chrom said with the biggest grin on his face.
Frederick closed his eyes and gave a sigh that was halfway between relief and worry, "Yes, it looks like you may be right, milord. It would appear the extent of my fears weren't as necessary as I had originally thought," he still looked up at Chrom with a hint of apprehension. "But now I'll teach you how to dismount."
Ian and Chrom turned with slightly crestfallen looks on their faces.
"To dismount, stand up with your feet still placed in the stirrups and be careful to maintain your balance. Remove your right foot and swing it over the horse and slowly let yourself down. Again, do not pull on the reins."
"Do we have to take our right foot out first? What if we want to dismount on the right side instead?" Ian asked.
"Then do the opposite. Left out and then toward right."
"I'm going to try that then," Chrom said as he attempted to pull at his left leg but paused halfway when he felt the stirrup tugging back at his foot. "What the? What are you stuck on? C'mon, let go," Chrom yanked harder and harder, kicking his foot back and trying to fight at the invisible force that kept his boot in place. His horse became edgy and just as magically as it started, Chrom's foot suddenly came loose and the world tumbled; the prince panicked when he fell and tried to reach for anything to catch himself on.
The horse screamed when it's reins were dragged to the floor.
Ian and Frederick turned with eyes wide at the raging stallion and the knight instinctively backed away. Ian was not so lucky as he found himself only halfway through his dismount, one leg awkwardly dangling in the air when Chrom's horse spun like a murderous whirlwind and dragging the prince along with it.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
"Chrom! Wait! Wai-!" Ian screamed before Chrom's rotating legs kicked at Ian's horse and spooked the beast. It stood up on its hind legs and Ian fell. And just like his friend before, tried to grab onto something, anything to stop his fall.
Very soon there were two panicking horses and twice the men being dragged across the grassy field. Frederick just stood back with the most dumbfounded look on his face and a facepalm to accompany it.
Eventually the horses ran off screaming, leaving Ian and Chrom face planted in the dirt with sores and bruises all over.
"I don't think… the armor worked..." Chrom moaned.
"Ah… ah… ah... damn it… aw… crap… frick… ah... screw my life…" Ian rolled around clutching his stomach.
Frederick sighed, surprisingly unconcerned at his lord's potentially injuries, "I'll be back with a healer," he turned on his heel and made for the castle, mumbling under his breath to maybe bring Lissa and Sumia along next lesson.
Ian painfully opened one of his locked eyes and grunted through his bared teeth, "I hate you Chrom…"
"I'm sorry…"
"No, screw you... I'd be there by now if it weren't for you…"
Outside the local monastery on the outskirts of a nearby village, the green leaves of the summer season had slowly lost their color and their fruitful brilliance; though still beautiful, the gradual transition in the pigmentation transformed the once verdant saturation into an audacious yellow which would soon brown and wither away.
That morning Libra had finally put down his brush to review his work. There dusked in a solemn autumnal glow, the coated canvas displayed an array of faded iridescent hues. A winding path blanketed with crimson petals stretched beyond the painting and through a solitary and lonesome forest. The few trees in the forefront of the picture were enthralled with tangling green and yellow vines, following along the trail before multiplying into the background until there was nothing but. The sky was charged with amber and overtook everything in the forest, hiding nothing but the shade. A lone woman in a white dress walked along the winding path with her back turned, a small basket in hand.
Every detail was so masterfully crafted down to every leaf and petal. And yet despite the painting's brilliance, it had an air of melancholy, as with so many of his other works. And it was often this same melancholy that people at the monastery had told Libra that his artwork was cold, that it lacked both life and soul.
No matter how many bright colors or the amount of soul he felt he put into his work, they always ended up the same. There was always a feeling of loneliness in his art: a singular person in a large and almost suffocating world. A forest, an ocean, the sky, a cliff, a desert, a field. All places teeming with new frontiers and beginnings, but also of perpetual restlessness. It didn't matter how open or vibrant the picture, it always ended the same.
The fall forest was still on its stand when Libra left to help the other priests perform morning communion.
It was ritual every morning of every day. Prayer, thanks, communion, scripture, and ceremony. But with Sunday, the given day of the week for mass prayer for the people in the church's surrounding village, there was an addition for teaching. Normally seeing hundreds of believers all praising the glory of Naga brought a smile to Libra's face, but ever since the Plegian conflict, such sights had lost their luster. Individual faces all blurred into one, sounds and voices indistinguishable, time dragging its feet.
It wasn't that much different to the time when he had first arrived at the monastery all those years ago...
Snip...
Gray. Dark. And cold. All words that described the young boy's first steps in that whited sanctuary...
Snap...
All words that described his life.
"... from morning until dusk we pray. We worship. We fast. It is only through physical punishment that our sins will be forgiven. You will do well to remember that, Libra."
The young boy said nothing.
"Your future here is certain, unlike at that orphanage. If you commit yourself completely to the glory and grace of Naga, you will find salvation. But until then this will be your new home," the monk with the tonsure haircut turned and stopped. "Your new family."
The long haired boy looked up with empty eyes before the monk continued.
"Come. Today marks a new day. Sit in the chair."
Libra stared at the hard, wooden stool, and whether through imagination or reality, his eyes lowered onto dried blood stains. He walked forward, touching the back of his neck through his golden hair before sitting down. The world and her senses became hazy, and there was the snapping of scissors.
...Ssss…
Libra's hand reached up and slid over the scar on the back of his neck. Such days of rigidity and bleakness had long disappeared from the monastery walls ever since young Emmeryn had come to be exalt. There was an emphasis on love not punishment. On good works for others, not self. And while the woman's teachings did not change when her younger brother took the throne, Libra's world had become just like before: Cold and dark, with only painting, prayer, and self-induced punishment as his remedy.
His hand slid down, feeling the destroyed skin like mountainous crevices from the thorny lashes criss-crossing his back. None of the other priests knew of Libra's self-persecution because he almost always spent his days in his room.
Those that did enter simply assumed the red splots on the floor were paint.
However long mass lasted, Libra did not know. But once the worshippers left their seats and exited the building, so did Libra; following his own desolate ritual from several months past before two standing figures at the door turned.
"Excuse me," a crestfallen Libra said.
The two people gave each other a quick glance before one of them spoke up, "Libra, there is someone here that would like to speak with you."
Libra brought up his head and saw to his left the bishop of the church, a near balding man with white flowing robes before switching his gaze to the right. His eyes slowly widened in shock at the familiar sight.
Maribelle gave a courteous smile before tilting her head forward and giving a small bow, "A pleasure to see you again, Libra."
"Maribelle?" he asked.
"Madam Maribelle is in need of one of our services. She will be going on a long trip in regards to her judicial studies and has requested that a priest accompany her along the way."
"A priest?"
"While a mercenary or guard from my home villa would have been proficient enough, I've also inquired that a religious presence may be just as beneficial, especially in times of emotional strife. And so I have come here, in search of someone capable of giving such guidance."
"Her travels will take her all over Ylisse and occasionally into Regna Ferox," the bishop said. "And so she has also asked if someone with combat experience may also be present," his eyes gave a knowing twinkle. "And since you are the only person here that fits that description, the task will have to fall to you."
Libra turned to Maribelle with a still somber look and asked, "When will the trip begin?"
"I will be needed in Belma to the north in one week's time. So I suggest leaving as soon as possible, if you would be so kind."
The war monk switched his gaze between the two people before closing his eyes and giving a dejected sigh, "I will pack my things, give me just a moment."
"Thank you, Libra. I will tell the others of your departure and have them help in the packing," the bishop gave a quick blessing to the two and walked out the door.
Libra made to follow but was stopped by the young noble when she grabbed his arm, "Thank you again, Libra. I apologize for my impetuous request, but… I've wanted to make sure, are you alright?"
The monk paused with a second of hesitation before giving a small smile, "Of course. I was not expecting to go on a trip so suddenly, but it will be an honor to-"
"That's not what I meant."
Libra stopped again, still maintaining his smile but even then, the dark presence enveloping him could not hide behind the facial masquerade. He fidgeted his feet for a bit before he touched the back of his neck, "I am… recovering. It will take some time but… some time outdoors may do me some good."
Maribelle pursed her lips, "That is what I am hoping for."
Libra nodded, smiling a final time before turning to the brightly lit glow from the church's open doors and took in a deep breath. Though he wished to remain alone, the idea of a trip outside the sepulchral walls excited him somewhat. Anything new was preferred.
"Excuse me, give me just a moment."
He walked outside.
"Today marks a new day."
"Chrom! No, wait! Stop! Stoooooop!"
"Get out of the way, Ian! Get out of the way!"
"Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiii-!"
Lissa, Olivia, and Sumia watched from a distance at the two struggling men attempt the trot at Frederick's little horse training session. It had been roughly three months of nonstop horseback riding for Ian and Chrom where their rears were constantly sore and every single bone in their body had been broken at least four times thus far. Sully, Stahl, and Virion had come to help teach, given their experience, but even they had trouble with the fatally erroneous prince.
Lissa got up from the picnic blanket for the seventh time that day with an exhausted sigh, "Ugh, I just sat down two minutes ago. I want to finish eating my food too, you know!"
"At least you're getting a lot of practice in, Lissa," Sumia teased. "Now it only takes you five minutes to heal multiple broken bones."
That didn't stop the princess from muttering to herself about how hungry she was and stupid older brothers.
Olivia smiled watching her now sister-in-law giving her husband and Ian another angry lecture about safety and gentleness with the horses, but faltered a little when the princess began whacking Chrom in the side of the head with her staff until Stahl and Sully had to pull the young girl off him.
The queen's hands instinctively went to touch her stomach which was the size of a small and barely noticeable bump. An action she noticed that had been happening whenever she became worried.
"Which is almost always," Sumia joked whenever they sat down to watch Frederick teach Chrom and Ian. Another activity the two women had been doing as of late.
"...I don't think she appreciates the practice anymore," Olivia murmured.
Sumia watched as well now that Lissa had calmed down somewhat and had begun healing Ian first as always, "No, I guess not. It is amazing though how far she has grown as a healer. Those two may have some permanent injuries with how many bones they've broken, but she is becoming an expert."
"You should get some practice in too. Isn't healing a part of pegasus knight training?"
Sumia laughed, "Oh no, Frederick won't let me. Says it's too dangerous, doesn't want anything affecting the baby," she rubbed her own stomach. "Even the smallest things he worries about, like walking, getting out of bed, cooking, cleaning. I mean I still do those things but... he's just as protective- No, even more protective about the baby than he is with Chrom."
"That must be quite a surprise."
"It is actually, haha!"
The two laughed as they watched Frederick off in the distance rubbing his eyes with wearied fatigue. He did stop however when he saw his wife and to be born child and smiled, giving a tired but grateful wave.
Sumia beamed and waved back.
After several moments Olivia asked, "So… what have you been doing in your free time?"
The young pegasus knight paused, "Reading. I've had so many books to read while we were at war with Plegia but I never had the time… I'm not used to having so much time."
"It's quite new, isn't it? There's so much to do but at the same time there's not. It does become a bit boring after a while."
"Indeed," Sumia agreed. "So what have you been doing all this time?"
"Nothing really," the pink haired queen sadly admitted. "I've been told that dancing during pregnancy may harm the baby if I'm not careful. So they told me to just quit it for now."
"That's a shame, you love dancing."
"Yes," Olivia said disappointedly but smirked a little. "Chrom, whenever he's not recovering from his injuries would lock the doors to our bedroom and dance with me. Slowly of course. And it is becoming more common since he is getting a little bit better, but… I don't want to bother him when he should be resting."
"That's sweet of him," Sumia would have swooned in a previous time and if she weren't married. "Well, have you tried other things?"
"Well… normally in the past when I'm injured or unable to dance, I'd help with the chores like cooking and washing clothes. But… I keep forgetting that I am a queen now and not some dancer for a traveling theater group anymore. The maids and servants refuse to let me help them with any work, not especially with this," Olivia looked at her slightly protruded belly.
"Hmm."
"My pardons, miladies. But I couldn't help but overhear your dilemma. May I make a suggestion?"
The two women looked up and were surprised to find Virion standing before them with his hands on his hips and the sun striking a halo from the back of his head.
The view made him seem more radiant than was absolutely necessary.
"Virion? What are you doing here?" Sumia asked.
The proud archer bowed to Olivia, "My humblest apologies, milady. While watching your husband and his tactician recover from their injuries for the umpteenth time today, I merely came here to assure you that he is doing just fine."
Olivia gave a weak smile, "T-thank you, Virion. I appreciate the concern. But I know Chrom, and a couple broken bones won't stop my husband," her face brightened when she added, pointing a finger upwards. "Oh! And he also doesn't like it when people are too formal with him, so you shouldn't be so formal with me."
Virion bowed again, "Of course, Olivia."
"So what was your suggestion?" Sumia asked again.
"I am glad you asked," the man almost laughed before pulling out his steel and silver bow. He knocked an arrow back and pulled at the string, pointing it toward the heavens with an incredibly ridiculous pose, "Archery, my fair lady! The sport of gentlemen and gentlewomen alike! There are very few things in this world that matches the speed, the grace, the precision, the strength, and beauty that is this art!" he aimed back down and toward the valley before letting go, a flashing swish sounded before the arrow disappeared off in the distance.
Sumia and Olivia craned their heads to see where the shot went but to no avail. Virion continued, "You have seen my art in previous battles, but it acts as a leisurely pastime as well. Just simple target practice to hone one's aim. It is also incredibly safe for an alluring woman such as yourself bearing a beautiful child."
Olivia and Sumia made to speak when a third voice popped in, "You're not flirting with them, are you, Virion? Chrom will have your head if he finds out."
The cravat wearing Shepherd jumped in surprise at the mystery man's voice, but calmed down once Kellem came into view, "Kellem! I had no idea! Why, you gave me quite the fright! How long were you standing there?"
The orange armored knight droned, "I've been here, Virion. This entire time. Like I've always been. Just like you guys."
"Oh…"
Olivia thought for a moment about Virion's proposal. Archery had its quirks and it did seem interesting to attack things from afar. During the war with Plegia, despite the fact she was only there for the latter half of it, fighting with a sword was a risky move for her. When she fought off the giant of a soldier to protect Chrom, she only got lucky by catching the fighter off guard. When she rushed the artillery mages with the others, it was only because Frederick was there watching her that she wasn't badly hurt, even if it was because he didn't trust her at the time.
And even though they weren't in a conflict and she was pregnant with Chrom's child, learning a new craft such as archery wasn't exactly a bad idea. She could get that exercise from the lack of dancing she needed and it was something for her to do besides watch her husband hurt himself multiple times a day. She did enjoy watching Chrom learn and his excitement whenever he got something right, there was no mistaking that, but it was that majority of the time where he would become badly injured that frightened her.
It was hard watching the person you loved hurt themselves day in and day out.
Plus archery was a relatively "safe" sport.
Sumia looked at her friend contemplating over the idea and couldn't help but ask, "You're thinking about doing it, aren't you?"
"Well, um… archery does sound kinda fun. Maybe that'll be the thing that will help pass the time?"
Sumia smiled, showing her support, "I say go for it! It sounds like it'll be fun."
Olivia nodded, "It does. Say, why don't you and I learn together?"
"Oh no, no, no. That might be a bad idea. I'm the girl that keeps tripping on her own boots even on flat ground. Plus arrows and pegasus knights don't exactly mix."
"Are you sure? I don't want to learn by myself."
"Positive."
Virion gave another hearty laugh as he straightened his posture, "Fear not, fair Olivia! For I am Virion, the archest of archers! I assure you that you will be able to hit even the smallest of targets at almost a hundred meters given you take the time and practice. I will even give you some of my own secrets to aid you."
Olivia thought for another moment, "Well…"
"Come. As you said, it will be fun, no?"
Kellem rolled his eyes at the archer's persistent invite.
Finally Olivia gave a soft giggle, "Oh, alright then. I'll learn. But no flirting, okay?"
"I would never dream of it."
Olivia got up from the picnic cloth and walked over to Chrom, who was still in a daze and muttering in slight pain, "Chrom, honey? Virion said he would be teaching me how to use a bow, I'll be taking archery lessons to pass the time instead of dancing until the baby is born. Is that alright with you?"
"Huh?" Chrom groaned.
Virion grinned, "Excellent! We shall begin our lessons immediately! Fear not, Lord Chrom. Your wife will be safe with me! Come, sweet Olivia!"
"Huh? W-wait! I don't think that was his answer! Virion! Wait!"
Chrom continued rolling on the ground still trying to figure out what was going on. His eyes blasted open when he finally realized the situation, "Lissa! Heal me now! Virion is taking my wife!"
"You will wait your turn until Ian is finished healing, mister! It's your fault I still didn't get to eat my lunch."
Chrom gasped in horror before struggling to get up. He almost accomplished the herculean feat when he felt a terrible soreness in his side, causing him to fall back down to the floor. He turned to Frederick who had a glazed look in his eye, "Frederick! Please, go after him!"
Frederick looked at Chrom then over to his wife. Sumia merely just gave a shrug and the great knight sighed, not even bothering to take his horse and followed after the two, "Yes, milord…"
It had been over a year since the end of the Plegian conflict that February afternoon. The month was almost over with a small celebration regarding Ian's twenty-first birthday, which consisted of cake and a party at the Shepherd's barracks. It had been about a year and a half since the tactician's meeting with his fellow Shepherd and best friend Chrom.
The snow was thawing and conditions were safe to begin riding practice again.
Ian rode on Cinis and Chrom on Survivor, the two horses that endured the two student's tedious training since the very beginning; accidents, broken bones, and all.
Cinis was a dark grey stallion with a weary eye and a hide so used to being rammed into that any amount of pain that would have scared off a normal horse was easily ignorable by the large steed. He was named not for his dark texture, but for the white diamond emblem being adorned on his temple. Ian thought it fitting, since it matched his own hair color; a color people often said was similar to ash.
Survivor was also just as built and with a hide just as strong. She had a chestnut colored coat with white markings on all four legs right above the hoofs. She was named around the same time as Cinis, within the fifth month of training in December when the snow was too dangerous to ride on. It was not hard to understand why her name was that way.
Frederick was not there that morning and had finally trusted the two men to ride alone now that Chrom no longer got into any riding accidents… as much anymore. There was a significant change in Chrom's behavior when Olivia left to get archery lessons. As his wife improved in aim so did he; he wanted to put as much dedication to prove himself a better man by learning to ride. And at night that determination increased when he danced with her in their room, even with the eventual decline due to her pregnancy.
Though she did seem slightly more irritable than he was used to, it only furthered to increase his dedication to learning.
Ian breathed in the fading winter air and exhaled, "Feels good to be riding again, doesn't it?"
"It does," Chrom agreed, stroking Survivor's mane affectionately.
"It's been a long time coming. All those months of training, now it feels so natural to sit in this seat again."
"Yeah."
Ian took in another breath and brought his hands behind his head, "So, the baby is expected soon. You must be excited."
Chrom nodded, "I am. Olivia and I have been thinking up names as of late, but it's hard to know which one is the right one to choose. We don't even know if it's going to be a boy or a girl. We made up a list for both… but as I said, we don't know which one would be the right one."
"Can I hear some examples?"
The royal scratched his head for a bit, "Well, uh… for a boy we came up with Avon, Cohen, Lucas, Levi, Leon… Chrom Jr…"
"Pfffttt! Seriously?"
"Hey! It was Olivia's idea, alright? She thought it would be cute."
"Itty bitty Cwom Junya. Off to sev da day."
"Shut up, alright?" Chrom's face turned flushed. "I told her no… Err, in my head I did. But we're not naming him Chrom Jr."
"Buh Papa."
"Shut up."
Ian guffawed, covering his mouth in his laughter with tears running from his eyes. Chrom waited for his friend to finish laughing at his expense before he continued, "As for a girl's name, we thought up-"
"Olivia Jr!"
"Stop it! You're not helping. And... would junior even work for a girl?"
"I… I actually have no idea. I just thought it would be funny."
Chrom shook his head and facepalmed while Ian stroked his chin, deeply contemplating if the name could be done, "Anyways," Chrom started again. "If it's a girl, we thought up names like Anissa, Eve, Suzuna, Lydia, Lyn, Lillian… Leona…"
"You're really fixated on the letter 'L', aren't you?"
"I just…" Chrom started. "Have you ever tried to name something before but you wanted to use a certain letter? And I don't know, but for some reason I want my child to start with the letter 'L' in their name."
"Is it your favorite letter?"
"Not exactly. I mean it's a good letter and all, but I just can't get the thought out of my head."
"Could be because of Lissa, then? Her name starts with an 'L'. Maybe you see your younger sister as someone of endearment and you see the same for your baby?"
Chrom thought hard about it for a moment but gave a noncommittal, "Maybe…"
Ian slowly nodded and tried to come up with other reasons. Chrom in his experience never really focused on the small stuff too often. And in all honesty he always seemed to rush off in his endeavors before thinking at all; a trait that was annoying at times but was something that made him who he was.
So seeing him focus on something so small like the letter 'L' confused Ian. But that was when it hit him.
"It's… about your father then. Isn't it, Chrom?"
Chrom turned with a stunned look in his eyes, "What?"
Ian bit his lip, unsure if he was crossing some sort of line by bringing up Chrom's father. But if this was the case, then it was something they'd have to address immediately, especially with the baby coming soon. A name was something someone had to live with forever, and he wanted to make sure if Chrom was making the right decision. L or no L.
"Well, you once told me about your father, the exalt fifteen years ago. I believe you said his name was Liam and his name starts with the letter "L." If it's not your favorite letter and if it's not Lissa, then a potential cause for your fascination may be because of him."
The prince shook his head, "That makes no sense. Why would I pick a name because of- Woah! Hold there, Survivor."
Ian stretched out his hand to catch his friend in case he fell over, but retracted when Chrom signaled that he was fine. The tactician shook his head, "Alright then, but think about it this way: You said your father had an entire generation of Ylisseans citizens killed in the war and then some. That he died when you were very young and you had little to remember him by except for being hated by his own people."
"Alright…" the royal slowly nodded.
"What if the reason why you're so fixated on the letter 'L' is because subconsciously you're thinking about him? You wanted to get to know him, to be proud of him, but you could never make those memories. And so, you want to make those memories with your child. Your child whose name would start with the letter 'L'."
Chrom stared for a moment but then went into a deep, contemplative thought. It was after a long, indefinite amount of time before he countered, "That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"
Ian played with Cinis' reins for a bit as he answered, "I'm no philosopher or theorist, I leave that stuff to Miriel. But if it is true, then is this a choice you're willing to make?"
Chrom thought again, replaying Ian's words in his head over and over again. While true he wanted to know his father, that was only in the past. His child was someone else, not him. They would have their own name, their own life, their own choices. What Liam was shouldn't dictate who they will be, certainly not a name and certainly not some measly letter.
He was not going to shy away from that.
"Who my father was means nothing. My child won't be barred from a letter or a name because of him. They will be their own person."
"Are you sure?" Ian asked, a little worried.
"I'm sure. Absolutely. One hundred percent."
Ian chuckled at his friend's conviction, "Alright then, letter 'L' it is then."
Chrom nodded, "It has to be something that fits, that has meaning. Something strong but kind, like Emmeryn."
"People normally associate the light with strength and kindness. We could find something along those lines," Ian suggested.
The prince nodded, "Alright then. What names are there?"
Ian thought for a minute, "Well, if I remember correctly, the root word for light is "Lux" in the ancient tongue. How does the name Lux sound?"
"Maybe. Sounds like a boy's name. Lucas could also work pretty well, and that's a name we've thought about using," Chrom suggested.
Ian nodded, "Alright then, we have some ideas. How about a name for a girl?"
"Hmm," Chrom mumbled, lining his finger against his lips. "Light… Lucy... Luna…"
"Lucretia… Lucile… Lina…"
"Lo… Luke… uh... Lecky... um…"
"Lucette… Lucia... Luc… Wait... I think I got one."
"What?" Chrom asked.
Ian turned to his friend and lightly suggested.
"How about…?"
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Chrom was anchored in his seat next to Olivia as she clamped down on his hand in an overwhelming vice grip. Her entire face was covered in sweat as the contractions just kept coming and coming, closer and closer. Chrom himself was doubled over in his seat with his face in excruciating pain.
Olivia moaned, "Why are you complaining? I'm the one having a baby here! Ah! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!"
"I'm sorry," Chrom apologized, feeling the bones in his fingers continually being crushed by the second. "But you're smashing my fingers. If you could just-"
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"
"AAARRRGGGHHH! My hand! My hand! My hand! Olivia, you're crushing my hand!"
Ian, Lissa, Sumia, Frederick, and most of the rest of the Shepherds sat in the hallway outside the royal bedroom. Screams from both Olivia and Chrom all mixed into one, creating an atmosphere that made one feel as if they were listening to the anguished cries of those in the very depths of hell. It was a nerve wracking experience to say the least.
Ian stared at the door with the most perplexed expression on his face, "It's been going on for at least an hour now. What on earth is going on in there? Why is Chrom screaming?"
"It sounds awful in there," Lissa grimaced, her fingernails digging deep into the bottom her seat. "Like something out of a horror story!"
Sumia peered down on her bloated stomach and rubbed it with worry, "Is that going to be me soon?"
Frederick held his wife's hand in reassurance, "Don't worry, Sumia. Everything will be fine. I will be by your side when your time comes."
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!"
"Olivia! My hand! My hand! My hand!"
"...With gauntlets on, of course," the great knight muttered to himself.
"She must have quite a grip in there," Sully said in amazement. "I'm surprised after all this time she hasn't accidentally yanked out Chrom's di-"
"Sully," Stahl interrupted.
"What?"
The screaming continued and Ian shook his head, his knuckles pressed against his jaw, "Okay, yep, alright. I think I've decided now. I'm not having kids."
"Amen to that, Bubbles," Gaius said, unwrapping another lollipop before stuffing it into his mouth. "Way too much trouble."
More frantic movement happened inside the bedroom as the midwife and nurses continued to give Olivia instructions.
Virion calmly flipped through a page in his book and commented, "Oh come now. Surely the idea of continuing your lineage with a beautiful partner and child to call your own intrigues you. This is merely the first step in such a journey."
"Ah hah hah hah ow!"
"Nope," Ian shook his head. "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope."
"RAAAAAAAHHHHHHHGGGGGG!"
"This is crazy!" Vaike buried his face in his hands, fearfully hiding himself but unwilling to admit it. "They're havin' a baby in there but it sounds like they're dyin'! How can y'all be so calm?" he turned to the others.
Gaius nonchalantly passed a lollipop over to the shaking fighter who stared at it hesitantly, "For the nerves," the thief said. Vaike took the confection and placed it hastily in his mouth as Gaius spoke again, "That'll cost ya."
"Huh?"
Gaius lazily turned his head and glanced at Virion's book, switching between the archer's face and the pages while sucking on his pop, "You're not reading, are you?"
Virion flashed a smile as he closed the text, creating a nice dome sound, "Nothing hides from your gaze, Monsieur Gaius."
"Too excited?" Ian asked.
"It is just the thought that such a wonderful student of mine is moving on in her life. Her aim was true, never did I see such marksmanship in my years in the sport."
Gaius leaned back and crossed his legs, "You didn't do any funny business with Chrom's wife, did you?"
Ian, Lissa, Frederick, Sumia, Vaike, and Sully all gave demonic death glares at the cravat wearer and threatened to disembowel every single part of his miserable body.
Virion lost all composure and retreated back into his seat and waved his arms defensively, "No! I did no such thing! I am a man of honor! I would never do anything as lecherous as take another man's wife! Much less the queen!"
"You better," Vaike growled.
"If that kid has blue hair, it better be Chrom's shade of blue and not yours," Ian said in a dark tone.
"I will murder you," Lissa threatened.
"I will rip you to shreds," Frederick glared.
"I will rip you a new asshole," Sully cracked her knuckles. Virion gasped and covered his rear.
"I will show you the true meaning of blue balls," Sumia's voice turned satanic, bringing up a fist. "And then I'll show you red! Right after I squeeze them one by one until they burst!"
"Whoa, whoa. Hold on there, Sumia. Let's not get too carried away here."
The archer jumped back and squeaked, "Eep!" Now covering both butt and nuts.
Kellem shook his head, "Don't worry, everyone. I was there when he was teaching Olivia how to shoot. I did hit him over the head a couple times whenever he made comments- Uh, anyone? Are you guys… Well, okay then. That's fine, don't pay attention. I'll just be here."
Gaius continued to ignore the aggressive air toward Virion from the other Shepherds and reached into his pouch to take a bonbon. Just as he was about to place the chocolatey piece in his mouth, there was a sound of relieved breathing followed by the cries of a child. Everyone dropped what they were doing and listened intently.
Everything was quiet except for the baby.
Voices were heard inside and then footsteps. The door slowly opened.
"It's a girl," the midwife gave a tired smile. "Would you all like to see her?"
There was a scrambling of feet and the room was filled within seconds. There they saw them: Olivia laid in bed, a wet towel right by her side and relief crossing her features. She smiled tiredly at everyone entering the room but said nothing, still exhausted from the trials of childbirth. Chrom sat on the other side of the bed farthest away from the bedroom doors; behind him the windows glowed in a tranquil wind. In his arms was something wrapped in a slightly bloody towel, there the sounds of a small child emanated from its wraps. The future exalt was immediately in love with the tiny bundle.
"A girl?"
"Congratulations!"
"She's beautiful!"
"Move out of the way! I wanna see!"
"Milord, milady, you did it. I am so proud of you two."
"Olivia, how are you feeling?"
"How bad did it hurt?"
"Woooo! Awesome job you two!"
"She looks strong child!"
"My rival's a father now!"
"You guys did it, holy cow…" Ian breathed.
"Now back away a bit, you all," the midwife explained. "Lady Olivia needs her space, give them some room," everyone respectfully took a couple steps back.
Chrom grinned appreciatively to everyone, "It was all Olivia's doing. She did all the hard work. I just sat back and had her squeeze my hand."
"Almost tore it off sounds more like it," Vaike joked.
"May we have a closer look?" Sumia asked.
Chrom nodded, passing the baby girl over to Olivia who looked at her for a second after receiving her before showing her to everyone. There wrapped safely in her mother's arms was a newly born baby girl, her mouth slightly open, showing her toothless mouth and moaning her discomfort in the new world. She wore on her head short, blue hair, the exact same color as Chrom's, and to which everyone sighed in relief. Virion simply nodded his head and exhibited a "I told you so," sort of smirk. Everything about the girl looked perfect.
However Frederick had a searching look in his eye and when he leaned back to his normal posture he asked, "My apologies, milord. But the mark of the exalt, is it there?"
That was when Olivia smiled knowingly and raised her daughter a little higher and tilted her a bit, "Look at her eye."
Everyone leaned forward and gasped.
"Holy wows! It's in her left eye!" Lissa exclaimed.
"Fascinating…" Miriel whispered.
There it was, clear as day. The symbolic mark of Naga, blue within a sea of blue. The very sign given to those born within the royal family. Where the girl's pupil was suppose to be, was replaced entirely by the holy dragon's tear and goblet.
Vaike slapped Virion on the shoulder, "Well, looks like you had nothin' to worry 'bout. She is Chrom's kid!"
"Did you expect anything else?" the man asked. "And did the dark blue hair mean nothing to you?"
"Aww! Who cares about all that boring stuff!" Nowi pouted, who was practically jumping up and down on the edge of the bed before she was pulled off by Gregor. "Get to the good stuff! What's her name?"
Ian became very quiet as Chrom and Olivia looked at each other. Olivia gave her husband an encouraging, "Go on," before he answered.
Chrom coughed into his hand, "Well, we've had some help in the naming process," he turned an eye toward Ian. " And since we now know it's a girl, we've decided that one of the names we thought up for her would be a perfect match," Chrom gave a smug smile toward Ian and Ian raised a brow.
"Lucina. Her name is Lucina."
"Saddle, secured. Horse fed. Food, clothing, extra socks, bedroll, sword, tomes, maps, telescope, money… the letters. Everything's here. Finally time to go. After a year of training it's finally time to go."
Chrom handed Ian his pack, "Got everything?"
"Yeah," Ian confirmed as he finished up his final checks. "I can finally try and figure out my past."
While Ian held the reins to mount Cinis, the smile on Chrom's face faltered and he became hesitant, "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.
Ian looked down, "Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean, what if this journey is a complete waste of time, you'll miss some of Lucina's first few months. Or what if something really terrible happened in your past and it's actually a good thing you don't remember. Maybe it's just best to let sleeping dogs lie."
"...I don't think that's how that phrase is used, Chrom."
"You know what I mean."
Ian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He then reached into his pack to make sure the old dusty letters were still there, all carefully sealed in another bag to prevent any decomposition or tearing, according to Miriel, "Well, I'll never find out until I start looking. I finally have an opportunity here, Chrom. I don't want to waste it."
Chrom reluctantly nodded, "Yeah, you're right. Just a moment of weakness, is all."
"Heh, don't worry. I'll be back soon."
"Lucina will be missing her uncle."
"She still has Frederick as her godfather. Or… Vaike. If you're really desperate."
Chrom couldn't help but laugh as he reached up to shake Ian's hand, "Have a safe trip, brother."
Ian smirked, "I will, don't burn down the castle while I'm gone."
"Frederick is the pyromaniac, not me."
"Then no more holes in the wall."
The two men shared one final laugh before they let each other go, both nodding to the other as Cinis went into a walk.
"See you, mate."
"We'll be back here whenever you need us, bring back some good stories."
And with that Ian's horse broke into a trot and then a run, disappearing beyond the rolling green hills of the castle grounds. Soon afterwards panting was heard from behind and someone gasped.
Lissa bent down to her knees and tiredly asked, "D-did Ian leave already?"
"Yep," Chrom nodded, crossing his arms and looking up to see Frederick approaching.
"Why didn't you tell me?" the princess demanded.
Chrom chuckled and gave an apologetic shrug, "Well, he said didn't want to be bogged down any more than he had to. So he decided to only tell me."
Lissa breathing became more rapid and her face became crimson with miffed anger. She stood up tall and bellowed through open palms, "Ian you jerk! Get back here so I can see you off!"
Ian felt the wind rush through his hair as Cinis galloped through the countryside. Though it had only been only two days of riding, he was making good time. It was far better than having to walk the entire distance.
It was a strange feeling, riding alone. Both were a far cry to his regular experience of travel. He was so used to having to walk, to march everywhere during his journeys that even though he had been riding with Cinis for a year, the motion felt foreign to him. Not to mention the lonely feeling as well. It was hard having no one to talk too; Cinis was there, but the conversations were always too one sided.
"But I'm finally moving," the tactician thought to himself "I could have been done and over with this a year ago, but heck, no use complaining. Having a horse to ride doesn't hurt either… Really could use some food though. And a place to sleep."
Within the next hour he finally rode into Southtown and found a local inn just as the sun was about to set. He tied Cinis to one of the outdoor posts and walked inside.
"One room and a meal please," Ian asked the innkeeper as he pulled out a gold coin and placed it on the counter.
The innkeeper accepted the coin and waved his hand, "Certainly, right this way."
Ian was then led into a small, dark room on the upper floors with a bed fit for a single person, a bedside table with an unlit candle, and an oaken closet next to a window that overlooked the town's streets.
The owner lit the candle and said, "Drop your things here. Your food will be downstairs in the dining area."
Ian thanked the man and did exactly that. But just as he was about to exit the room, something in the window caught his eye. He meandered over to the glass to take a look, breaking into a smile just as he did.
Off in the distance was a familiar sight: A church or cathedral even, just sitting across a water bridge and overlooking the nightly town square where empty vendor stalls laid dormant as everyone retired to their homes.
"Place looks so much more different now that it's not all on fire and with brigands running around," the tactician almost fondly remembered the attack two years ago. "That was just after I met Chrom and we had our first battle together. I was just learning… err… remembering how to fight and use my knowledge with tactics. We all got a bruising that day and Lissa wasn't as skilled a healer as she is now."
He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled, "And Frederick. That was back when he didn't trust me and thought I was a Plegian spy. I remember my skin always crawling because I could almost feel him glaring into the back of my skull. Good times. Maybe I'll go visit the market when it opens up in the morning."
That was when his stomach began to growl. Ian looked down and clenched his belly, "Uh, right food. I'm starving, I need to go eat," Ian then grabbed his maps, the letters from the desert and moved downstairs with meat on his mind.
Ian ate his soup and bread roll in the lower dining area with a couple other patrons that were staying up after hours that night. It wasn't the worst thing he had ever eaten, Sully's "cooking" still topped that. But it wasn't the best either. He deduced that it must have been that he was simply too spoiled by the splendors of palace life and good food.
"Still could use some pork or beef though," he complained inwardly as he took a bite from his bread. "I'm going to starve if I don't get some actual meat," he took another bite.
From across the room, one of the other patrons talked.
"Hey, Marcus. What you got there in your hands?"
"Huh? This thing? Just got a letter from my cousin in Valm."
Ian pulled out his maps and letters from his bag and tried to ignore the chatter from the other residents, "Now that I'm here, I should start planning out my next move and see if I can find any clues to my missing memories."
"What'd he write about?"
"Nothing special. Farming, the missus. Apparently they're building a ton of ships over there. He thinks they're preparing for something."
"Must be some mass fishing venture or somethin'. Wife keeps tellin' me those Chon'sin folk love their seafood."
"Maybe."
"Gods are they loud," Ian groaned. "Maybe I should ask if I can bring my food upstairs."
"So, have you seen them?"
"No, but I've heard rumors. Something is out there, out in the grass fields."
"Grass field?"
"That's what I've heard. The one east of here, right?"
"Right."
Ian looked at his map, more specifically at the giant "L" shape he had drawn of the general southeast location where Chrom and the others had first found him. He remembered walking from the grasslands and into Southtown, but from a directional standpoint, he had no clue from he'd come from. He just remembered them entering one gate in the town and exiting from another.
"Maybe these guys could give me some clues as to where to look," the tactician thought. "If there is something special out there, that could be my link to my missing memories," It wasn't a definite thing but it was worth a shot. He pushed his chair back and gathered up his things before walking over to the two men. "Better than walking blind," he smirked.
The next morning Ian went out to the market to restock on supplies and by midday had set off to find the field where his journey had begun two years ago. It didn't take long to ride out to, given that it was relatively nearby even on foot, but he soon found that every station of grass pretty much looked the same.
"Was that where they found me? Or was it there? Um… no that can't be it…"
Ian threw his hands in the air before regretting his decision immediately by almost falling over. He caught himself but had earned an ire glare from Cinis, "Uh, sorry there, mate. My mistake," Ian apologized.
The horse snorted and continued walking.
Ian kept looking around and still couldn't make heads or tails about the area he was in, "Hey, uh… You're not like a dog are you? Can you pick up the scent from my coat and see where I was lying down originally two years ago?"
Cinis stared at him as if he were crazy.
Ian sighed, "No, I guess not."
A half hour of mindless wandering had passed when Ian decided that now would be a good time to take a break and gather his thoughts.
Cinis started eating the grass and Ian pulled out a waterskin to rehydrate.
After taking his fill of water, Ian rubbed his eyes in frustration. All around him was grass. Grass and more grass. The trail leading from the town had long disappeared and eased into the verdant environment. The sky was blue, the sun shining, and everything had an idyllic aspect about it. But Ian couldn't enjoy it.
"Why the hell am I here?" he asked himself aloud. "Why did I even think this was a good idea? I wasted all this time and nothing!" he looked at the purple mark on the back of his right hand and rubbed it irritably. "C'mon, you stupid thing. Burn up or something, like you did before. Give me a clue, a sign, or something. I don't want to have wasted my time out here."
The tattoo did nothing.
Ian groaned, "This sucks."
He got up from the ground and wiped at the grass sticking to his coat and sighed, "Damn it. I guess I'll just keep looking. No point coming this far just to give up now."
"But there's so much grass," Ian complained again in his head. "Why did Chrom come all the way out here anyways? There's nothing out here. Bandit attacks my foot, I bet they just got lost and stumbled upon me on the way."
Getting back onto his horse, Ian could see a little bit higher than he would have on the ground. He gazed lazily around when something in the distance caught his eye that he hadn't noticed before: A simmer in the light, a smoky mist. In the middle of May.
"That's odd," he thought before directing Cinis over to the strange anomaly.
Just as they approached the simmer, the back of Ian's hand finally began to tingle as did the mark on his back. Ian instantly recognized the feeling and became excited.
The simmer acted as if it were a person and turned it's head. It stared for a second before evaporating into the landscape. Ian took a figurative step back, "What?"
But the burning in his hand continued.
Ian blinked and off in the distance the simmering reappeared, farther away this time but just close enough for him to faintly make out the mist.
He ordered Cinis forward and the horse obeyed.
He approached and it disappeared.
He blinked and it reappeared.
The burning continued.
After another half hour of following the smoke, Ian was starting to feel like a fool. He was just about to give up on the next occurrence when something else stopped him in his tracks.
The burning flared magnificently for a moment but then disappeared completely.
There right by the simmering light was a house, a small wooden thing in the middle of the expansive meadow. The home was so out of place that Ian almost forgot about the light.
He looked back however and noticed that it stood right by the door.
It walked inside.
Ian just about slapped himself in the face at the absurdity of it all. Was the light he was following some kind of spirit? A ghost from an older time luring him into some kind of trap? Why was his hand burning when he saw it? Why did it stop when he saw the house? What the hell was going on?
"I have a bad feeling about this, Cinis," Ian muttered. Cinis neighed in agreement. They proceeded anyways.
At the door, Ian mentally prepared himself for what he was about to potentially see. The door itself looked incredibly old and the handle about to fall off at any moment. Ian played with the thing for a bit and was almost amazed that it instead felt very sturdy.
He slowly turned and opened the door.
The door groaned and a scent of exhausted candles hit Ian's nose.
Ian's expectations of the small, wooden house would have been run down and abandoned. But instead he saw bookshelves, plants, figurines, a still operating grandfather clock, a couch, and a green pine colored rug. He called to see if anyone was home but was met with only silence.
"Does anyone still live here?" he called again but still heard nothing. He cautiously decided to walk inside.
The moment Ian took a step inside the house, he immediately froze. There at the halfway through the living room and into the kitchen past it was the simmering mist from before. But instead of it just being a messy blur of light, it had the shape of a woman with long, flowing hair.
The woman stared wordlessly at Ian for a second before turning to the side. Ian eye's followed her movements and they lowered onto a large object that looked like a piano. The woman sat down and began to play.
The keys at first were slow, playing once every second. The tone was deep and drawn out, but then began to pick up in tempo. Her spectral fingers glided across the keys and she gently moved with them. The keys lightened and Ian felt a tinge of harmony from the music but also of somber loneliness. Melancholy, in a way. Slowly but surely however, the piece picked up and felt more elated and upbeat; Ian settled into ease and couldn't help but feel safe.
The music played for several minutes until the song reached its zenith. It lulled and died, finally ending in the pensive theme it started with.
Ian stared at the side of the ghostly woman's face, uncertain of what was going to happen next. But instead of a message or magical prophecy, the woman looked up toward the ceiling and with a final, haunting breath, inexplicably faded out of existence.
Ian's mouth hung open in disbelief, "What the hell just happened?"
He approached and touched the seat of the piano. Cold.
"Was I hallucinating?" Ian called out again. "Hello? Again, is anybody here?"
Nothing but the ticking of the old grandfather clock.
Ian rubbed the back of his neck. There was something about this place that spoke to the young tactician. Something about the books, the creaking floorboards, the seat, the figurines, even the dusty windows with the old light shining through.
But most of all it was the piano.
Ian stared at the keys for the longest time and had the growing urge to press one of them. He reached his hand forward and lethargically brought one of his fingers down.
Duun.
Ian paused a little out of surprised shock. Something about pressing that key felt right, felt familiar. It was similar to the time when he realized his prowess in hand to hand combat during the final battle in the Plegian campaign.
"I wonder if I can play?" he thought.
Ian brought out the stool and pulled off his gloves. He looked over to his left and located the instrument's metronome, "Just for a little bit, I don't think anybody lives here. One song and I'll be on my way," he pulled the little pendulum and let it go.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
He placed his left hand onto the keys, starting off by using only his index finger and thumb and switching back and forth between the two keys at an even tempo.
Duni, duni, duni, duni, duni…
His right hand wistfully joined, beginning the song while the left played the beat.
The song itself was incredibly simple and elementary in its craft. Nothing extraordinary. But it was because of the song's simplicity that put the man's mind at ease. It was lovely and sweet, no hint of sadness but had a feel for yearning. When the tempo rose so did the tune, creating a positive energy that reverberated through Ian's ears.
Everything felt natural to him: The seat, the keys, the feel, the sound. Every single detail felt so great, so powerful. Normally his life was that of a tactician, someone who sought out strategies to accomplish the mission, with the end result almost always resulting in someone's death. Someone's destruction.
Here he created sounds and emotions. He gave something life instead of taking it away. Orchestrated an instrument that entered people's souls and not their flesh.
It was liberating.
He played and he played and he played, basking in the euphoria of the piano's theme. He reached the height of the song and was about to let go, slowing down until-
Crash.
Ian jumped in his seat as if he had been electrocuted. He spun around, hand already reaching for his sword when he froze.
With a vase shattered near the entrance of the door, he saw the recognizable naval blue clothing and armor of Marth.
Ian paused, "Marth?"
Marth's eye rapidly switched between the tactician and the shattered vase as her face was flushed with embarrassment, "Uh, my- my apologies, Sir Ian. I didn't mean to intrude. The vase it- I must have accidentally knocked it over while I wasn't paying attention."
"Uh huh…" the tactician started, still surprised at the mysterious warrior's sudden appearance. "But what are you doing here?"
Marth became quiet, looking as though she were carefully choosing her words before she answered, "I was… looking for someone. And I thought I may have been able to find them around here, but then I saw you and this strange house. So I decided to follow and see what you were up to."
Ian nodded and awkwardly motioned his head toward the piano, "Well, as you can see I was playing, but… Just letting you know this isn't my house. I don't live here."
"I thought as much. But why are you here?"
"That's… what I'm trying to figure out."
After a moment of silence, Marth spoke again, "You play beautifully."
Ian was taken aback by her comment but thanked her anyways, "Uh, thanks. I didn't even know I knew how to play, to be honest."
Marth looked confused, "But then how were you able…?"
"Previous life I guess."
Marth's eyes narrowed on the tactician when they heard movement outside.
"Huh, a horse? What is a horse doing here?"
"Uh oh," Ian muttered. Marth looked back at Ian with the same look of apprehension in her eyes.
Through the open doorway they saw the shadow of a hunched old man, bald at the top and with a mangy beard at the mouth. He stumbled inside and gasped.
"Intruders! Out of my home! Out of my home, I say!" he hoarsely yelled.
Marth stepped back as the old man threateningly lifted his cane, "Our apologies, sir! We didn't mean to-"
"Who are you people? Trying to steal from a lonely old man, huh! Is that it?"
Ian opened his mouth, "We were just passing by sir. We were both looking for-"
The old man turned with narrow and barely opened eyes and pointed, "And you, young man. Get away from that piano! It is very special to me and I won't have you-" he froze when he saw the purple coat and white hair and his mouth fell open. Looking as if he saw someone come back from the dead and was at a sudden loss for words.
His hand fell and Ian paused.
"Ian? Is that you?"
I'm not going to lie, as interesting as this chapter was, it wasn't the most fun for me to write. Too many scene transitions and a lot of research for things I had no clue about, like horses, and pregnancy, and pianos... and pregnancies. I watched childbirth for this chapter and I didn't even need it. Ugh.
Now we can finally get to the more interesting part of this arc. I have been looking forward to this for a long time now. The next chapter will be coming much, much sooner than this did, I promise you that.
If you guys are interested or even care, the music that the ghost lady played was "Between Worlds" by Roger Subirana Mata and the one Ian played was the piano version of "Chasing Cars." Why "Chasing Cars" you may ask? Because this is one of the songs I associate with when I think of the RobinxLucina ship.
Anyways, have a good one, everyone. Don't forget to review and I'll see you all on the flip side. See you very soon.