Shirasagi Castle

Azura

"Garon has proven his intentions quite clear! He will result to any length to destroy us, even treachery! For all we know, he intended for her to wind up here!"

"She is a child! Have these events so unmanned you that you feel threatened by a mere girl?"

"Do not underestimate the ruthlessness of our enemy! King Sumeragi, rest his soul, made that mistake and it cost him not only his life, but his child!"

Everyone had been so angry that day. She couldn't understand why at the time, but when they looked at her she could feel their hatred. In the face of such disgust and loathing, she couldn't do anything but stand shaking in place. She hadn't known where she was, or what she had done to make these strangers hate her so much. All she knew was that she wanted to go home.

"Garon hasn't responded to our messages. It's clear that the plan has failed, this girl is only a liability! We must be rid of her!"

"What would you have done? There's nowhere to send her to!"

"Why not simply return her, as a gesture of good faith? Perhaps Garon…"

"Good faith?! Have you forgotten Sumeragi already!"

"Agreed, Garon has proven himself ruthless, for all we know he has already given up his daughter for dead. We need to figure out what to do with her."

"But what is there to do with her?! There is no one who would want to house her!"

"Send her to the slums with the rest of the immigrants! Someone will want her!"

"Just send her to a grave and be done with it!"

"You would murder a child?!"

"That 'child' is the blood of a monster!"

"We have no need of her! We can't let her leave and we can't let her stay!"

The details were hard for Azura to remember. All she could really understand for certain was how afraid she was as their talking escalated, and her fate became more and more uncertain. Everywhere she might have looked for comfort only sent back anger and accusations. She had been alone, and afraid. Until she felt the warm hand gently grasp her shoulder.

"We shall keep her in the castle, as my ward."

"My lady, have you lost your senses! This child…"

"Is just that, a child, lost and afraid. If what you say is true, that no one would house her, than there is only one moral choice."

"My queen, no one here is unsympathetic to your loss, but you must remain rational. You have lost a husband, and a daughter, and your grief must overwhelm anything we might be feeling. You might not fully understand the situation."

"Nobody understands the situation better than I. This is not a mother's madness, I am simply doing what is right. That is one thing we still have."

Azura had clung to the lifeline as tightly as she could, desperate for the warmth she brought. She must have looked so pathetic, so small and frail, yet the woman cared for her still. "Can you please tell me your name?"

"A...Azura…"

She had smiled at her, "Azura...there is no need to cry. I'll be here. No matter what happens, I'll always be on your side."

"Mother…"

"Hm? A-Azura!" Who...who's there… "Azura! I think she can hear us!" Hinoka?

Azura struggled to see through blurred vision, but could somewhat make out her sister's red hair, along with two others that she couldn't properly identify at first. Her senses felt like they were aflame, and just looking in one place for too long made her feel nauseous, "Where…"

The next thing she felt was Hinoka's arms locking around her, "You're okay! You're really okay!"

"Uh, that may not be the best…"

The shock of the sudden impact send Azura's mind into a frenzy as suddenly everything around her began spinning and she felt everything shifting. Before she could stop it, she felt an aching in the back of her head as the contents of her stomach forced itself out.

"Hm, it seems the myth about beauty never being tarnished is just that," Azama chuckled

Azura wished she had the mental will to curse him, but her mind was too scattered to even fully recognize what he had said. Thinking just made her condition worse.

"Hold on! Just, uh, lean over the side of the bed. I think that's what you're supposed to do…" Hinoka, despite the mess Azura had made on her, occupied herself with making sure she was okay. I need...to remember to thank her…

"What...happened…" She coughed out

"It seems Corrin's sword has killed your mother," said Azama, "Strange thing. It sparked a riot, and somewhere in the mix someone threw a rock at your head."

"So...that was real...mother is actually gone…"

Hinoka meekly looked to the side, "Yes...she's gone…"

Azura had the strongest urge to cry after hearing those words, yet none would come forth. For so long, Mikoto had been the solid foundation in her life, her family was the only thing she could count on to always be there for her, to never change. With so few people she could believe in, the loss of even a single member of her family shook her to the core. Especially one so central in her life as Mikoto had been.

"...How did it happen?"

"I don't now...people are saying Kamui did it, and she hasn't exactly been denying it, but...the sword just flew out of her hand, it didn't look like she knew what was going on. They have her locked in the dungeon right now, but she hasn't said anything about it. I wish she would just tell them that she had nothing to do with it."

"I see…how has she been taking it?"

"People started accusing her of stuff, and she started shouting back at them about how they're a bunch of, uhm…well, things. Then someone talked about destroying her sword and she went berserk and started hitting people, so they put her in the dungeon."

"That sounds very in character," said Azura, unable to stop a small grin appear on her face before she felt another wave of nausea, "Ugh…"

Hinoka rushed to her side, offering her arm as support, "Geez, you look really bad," she said with a scowl, "If I only knew who threw that stone…"

"Nothing would come of it...there appears to be nothing I can do other than rest. Tell me, what are they going to do with Corrin?"

"The last I heard, she was still in prison."

Shirasagi Castle Dungeon

Kagero

"She just...tricked me!"

It was hard for Kagero to think of a less dignified sight than the one in front of her, "What made you think it would be a good idea to walk up to a prisoner's cell in the first place?"

"She just...well, she promised…"

Saizo glared at the young recruit, "I have an idea of what she promised you."

The boy cowered at the ninja's fury. Kagero could see her old friend's arms shaking as he held back the impulse to strike the idiot. She gripped him by the shoulder, letting a single message travel through the gesture. Control.

Saizo glared at the recruit for a moment before roughly turning away and leaving the cell block.

"What...what should I do now?"

Kagero looked down on him, "Just go back to the barracks for now."

"But...my armor...she took my clothes…"

"Indeed," Kagero observed, "I suggest you go quickly before you catch a cold."

Maybe she was a bit hard on the poor kid, but it was a bit hard to show tolerance toward someone who let a prisoner escape, the queen's assassin no less, for a kiss. Still, she didn't have time to waste on disciplining him. At the moment, Saizo was far higher on her list of priorities.

"Revenge is a fool's game," he said the moment she found him, overlooking the lake where the princess had stood the day before, "You said it yourself, Kagero. A fool's game, and one I intend to play."

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"By finding her. And then killing her. I won't ask you to follow this path of self-destruction, it would be best if you-"

"Enough of that," Kagero said before he could finish the thought, "We discussed this before, you're a fool for thinking that revenge will bring anything other than misery, but you're a worse fool if you think that I care so little for you that I won't face that with you."

"I see...she took the soldier's armor, which means she undoubtedly hopes to travel disguised."

"In her position, I would have gone with the army last night when Lord Ryoma led them to the front lines."

"Makes the most sense; she would be able to travel with them all the way to the border, then cross lines and reveal her identity to the first people she met."

"Is she clever enough to do that? She clearly possesses people skills and combat prowess, but in our time together she did not seem particularly mentally gifted. In fact, most of the time she was rather impulsive to the point that it almost got her killed in the lower quarter."

"It doesn't take skill to work out how a disguise could be useful. Still, you're right that she would definitely stand out."

"Meaning if we could reach the army before she leaves, we could simply ask the commanders if they had seen any suspicious activity."

Saizo nodded, "It appears we'll be traveling with Lord Ryoma after all."

Hoshido

Corrin

Corrin collapsed against a tree off the path, letting her head fall back and attempting to cool off under its shelter from the hot sun. She would have considered it ironic that after all this time searching for the sun she was now actively trying to escape it, if not for the ridiculous heat she had been marching through mudding her senses and making it hard to think straight. The army had been marching through the sun for hours, not stopping since they had left the night before when she barely managed to get into their ranks and blend with the thousands of other faceless mooks.

"Shit...how are they still going…" She wondered aloud at the soldiers continuing to march without a stop. She adjusted the wrappings she had tied around her face, trying to let some air in without removing them entirely. The fabric was necessary to keep her identity and ethnicity hidden, but it certainly didn't help her keep cool.

"Hai! Are you alright?" She heard someone call from outside her field of vision. When she turned she saw a soldier, an older looking one, running toward her from the column, "Do you need water?"

"N-no, I…" She paused, "Actually...water would be really great right now…"

The soldier took a canteen off his belt and passed it to her, "You may be better off without those wrappings. Is there something wrong with your face?"

"Uhm...it is personal."

"You aren't burned, are you? Actually, nevermind, forget I said anything."

Corrin nodded, not trusting herself to talk for extended periods. If she messed up any words it would probably give her identity away. Instead, she occupied herself with drinking the water he had generously provided.

"Careful, you might get waterlogged if you drink too much too quickly," He cautioned, "I'm guessing this if your first time marching if you didn't bring your own water. That's a pretty interesting sword you got there, I don't think I've seen one like it."

Corrin looked down at Ganglari on her hip. Of course she had grabbed it before escaping. She was lucky to have found it just a few hours before they were planning to smelt it down. It had been a pain, and more than a little risky, but she couldn't just leave it behind. Even if it was designed to be a trap, it was still important to her. She still didn't know what she was to her father, if he felt anything for her at all, but it didn't erase all the years of longing she'd felt for his acceptance, and that sword was the first thing she ever received from him as a gift. Consciously, she knew that it had been a trap of some kind, or at least some other selfish motive, but it didn't change what she felt about it.

"...My father gave it to me."

"It looks well made, he must be a fine craftsmen. So what makes a blacksmith's daughter join the army?"

Blacksmith's daughter? Corrin thought to herself. He had probably assumed that, since the armor she was wearing and the wrappings were obviously shabby, she had to be lower class. Being the child of a blacksmith would also explain the burns that he had guessed she had and how a lower class pheasant could get such an elaborate sword, legitimately at least. Given all the 'evidence', it made sense he would assume that. Well, it was nice of him to think up a backstory for me.

"I've...always been better at using swords, not making them."

"Ah, the gods made you a warrior, then," He grinned as if he'd heard the story a million times before, "I'm guessing you were isolated in your small town, hearing stories from merchants of faraway lands and wonders and decided that you needed to see it all for yourself, and decided the only way you were going to find your destiny was through strength."

"...Are my type really that typical in the army?"

"Scarily so. It's also the type that always seems to wind up slumping on the side of the road during these marches. You see, you young heroes are always so eager to get to the battlefield that you tire yourself out before you're anywhere near it and always end up late. You gotta learn to pace yourself, that's the only way you'll get anywhere."

"Are we still talking about marching?"

He laughed at that, "Any philosophical commentary was completely unintentional, take that however you want," He stood up while simultaneously offering her a hand, "So were you planning on sitting all day or are you ready to keep going?"

Castle Krakenburg

Iago

The advisor fidgeted impatiently under the glow of the torchlight under the lower steps of Krakenburg, just on the outskirts of the wall that surrounded it. Looking once again at his watch and muttering to himself, he was quickly beginning to think the effort he was putting in outweighed the reward. He only had so much patience for sellswords.

Just as he was about to give up, he heard the barbarian stumbling his way through the shadows, "You're late," he snarled at the dark

"You told me to pack my things," Hans replied casually, carrying a small bag on his back, "Normally I prefer to get notice ahead of time if I'm being sent on a job."

"Well, I'm so sorry to inconvenience you," Iago replied dryly, "But seeing as how it was your doing that put us in this awkward position, I would not complain too loudly if I were you."

"What's this about anyway? I'm going to need details if you want me to do anything."

"Right now, our main priority is having you away from the castle," Iago explained, "The royal siblings have gone into the field, determined to return Princess Corrin, which would place your health in serious jeopardy. Even if she doesn't return, which is the far more likely outcome, her siblings know most of the truth already and the loss may awaken their more...volatile characteristics."

"So whether they save the girl or not, I'm fucked either way, is that what you're saying?"

Iago scowled, "Crudely put, but yes. His majesty might have been able to protect you, if you had followed instructions and only incapacitated the princess, but since you took it upon yourself to kill her companion it would greatly strain his relationship to deny them a certain degree of vengeance. His majesty would probably see your life as a fine price to pay for the trust of his children, but destructive as you are, I prefer not to cast aside potential tools."

"Get to the point, what is it you want me to do?"

"I'm sending you into the field, along with a small group of soldiers made up of former criminals that also need to be conveniently misplaced. You're to harass smaller Hoshidan settlements on the outskirts of the country, in order to spread out their forces and cut off supply lines. I trust you will put that barbaric instinct of yours to good work on our enemies."

"If it keeps my head where I like it, fine," grunted Hans, "For the king, of course."

Fun Fact: "Waterlogged" is when something is saturated with or full of water. In terms of how this relates to human beings, this can often happen during exercising when a person, desperate for re-hydration, takes in too much water at once and becomes sick. In order to avoid, it is best to take short gulps of water over intervals. The more you know.

And now, a message from the Feed The Troll Foundation. This message is sponsored by DeathDealer Inc.

Many people are aware of trolls, those strange creatures that live under bridges and do all sorts of troll things that trolls under bridges do. Many people are also are aware of metaphorical trolls, Internet slang to describe individuals who are fond of angry criticisms and rebelling against contemporary ideas such as spelling and punctuation.

However, these metaphorical trolls are often misunderstood based on their Internet persona, and we often forget that there is (probably) a person who is actually typing these often misspelled words. We here at the Feed The Troll Foundation seek to reach beyond the computer screen, in a metaphorical sense, and truly understand the person behind the words. Our sponsors at DeathDealer Inc have often supported our message by featuring trolls in their works, characters such as Corrin and Azama, to show that even trolls have other character attributes that make them worth redeeming and that there is something in everyone that is worth caring for.

Therefor, we urge our readers to discard the survival instincts that have been drilled into you, and do what has always been discouraged, feed the troll. Feed them with all the positivity, genuine compliments, and heartfelt words of encouragement you can muster. Find your nearest neighborhood troll and tell them, 'it's okay, you are still cared for. There are people who want you to have a nice day. I want you to be happy.' For the sake of a happier Internet, for all who visit here, let us respond to negativity with overwhelming positivity.

Thank you, and please, have a nice day. All of you.