Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening nor any of the canon characters from there. As for any original characters that may show up, any resemblance they may have to others is highly likely coincidental. If not and they happen to reference some other character or fandom on purpose or by accident, I don't own that either! (Also don't own the summary quote, which is from InuYasha.)
Other Notes: I feel bad about not updating this story as often as I probably should. Especially since I'm starting another story for FANOWRIMO rather than just sticking through and completing this one. I am still working on this and have no plans to abandon it, however, so as long as people are willing to stick with it, I will keep on writing this story through to the end!
The Wings of Goodbye
Chapter Twenty-One
Floating in a pure white world, Eve observed the sphere that loomed over her.
"Grima," she spoke, unbidden.
Myriad emotions swirled through her at the fell dragon's name, some so complex that she couldn't describe them with a single name. Her future counterparts had left more than a few imprints of her memories, it seemed, her anger and regret sweeping over in waves. But more than that was an overwhelming despair that settled on the fringe of madness, so utterly complete that it seemed inhuman.
"Where am I?" someone asked behind her.
Eve turned, stilling when she saw a familiar-looking girl standing behind her. Silvery hair spilled over her shoulders, over the armor of a pegasus knight-in-training. Bright green eyes, large and innocent in a way Eve had never been, peered up at her.
"Where am I?" the girl asked again, a wide smile on her face. "Who am I?"
"I…" Eve tried to reply, but found herself speechless. She knew, and yet… "I don't… know…"
Silence reigned.
The girl smiled quietly.
Eve wondered if she had always been wearing that coat, her coat. The coat her mother had given her, deep purple with gold trimmings and designs of Grima's eyes. It trailed behind the girl, many sizes too big.
Then, the girl lifted a hand, pointing behind Eve.
Pointing at Grima's sphere.
"Who am I?" she asked.
"Not him," Eve denied immediately, feeling cold.
"No," the girl agreed. But she did not stop pointing. "Who am I?"
The world melted.
When Eve opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the darkened canopy of a bed that felt far too luxurious to be the Shepherds' garrison.
Something was wrong.
Pushing herself up, Eve felt her heart pound. How long had it been since she knocked out? It felt like not a few hours, but if she was in the Ylissean castle, as she suspected…
She slipped out of the bed and realized that someone had changed her out of her uniform and armor and into what looked like a nightgown. It was somewhat plain despite its frills, but the hem pooled slightly around her feet onto the tiled floor, indicating that it belonged to a somewhat taller female than herself. But as perturbed as it made her feel to know she was wearing someone else's clothing, it bothered her more how light and airy the fabric was. She felt positively naked.
Shaking her head, Eve stole to the door of the room only to stop, a faint sense niggling away at the back of her mind. Magic sense, she realized. There was someone in the hall that she didn't recognize and, while she didn't know the guards of the palace, this presence didn't feel like the numerous Ylissean soldiers she'd been surrounded by the past few weeks.
Pulling away from the door, she scanned her temporary room for anything she could use as a makeshift weapon. The blanket, possibly, but it was most likely the person was armed and could rip through it.
There was a candelabra…
Eve's sensing told her that the person was moving past her door. She grabbed the metal stand, removing the candles set there.
The person didn't enter, moving past in an almost confident manner.
Praying that the door did not creak, Eve twisted the knob and pulled it open, just enough to allow her to slip through. Then, gathering the skirt of her nightgown so she didn't trip, she padded forward on bare feet, candelabra tight in her grasp.
It didn't take her long to find her target. He moved stealthily through the halls, but he seemed intent on not gathering attention to himself and so moved slowly enough to render his footsteps silent. Once or twice, his movements stilled, but he kept moving forward again with time, never bothering to check behind him.
The steps of a confident thief—and foolish prey.
Eve dashed forward, mind returning to days she spent hunting in the wild, for training and for her next meal.
"What the—"
The thief turned, startlingly fast. His blade followed to parry her poor excuse of a weapon.
He had good reflexes, Eve begrudgingly admitted. She backed away quickly before he could recover from his shock and retaliate, but kept the candelabra up to hopefully dissuade him from attacking anyway.
"Whoa, lady," the thief eventually said, sounding dumbfounded. He lowered his sword. "Pretty fierce, aren't ya? Attacking while dressed like that." It was hard to tell with the lack of light, but he sounded as if he were smiling. "I swear, I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'm just here for the loot."
Eve stayed silent, eyeing the sword he was very obviously holding.
The thief seemed to notice this, for he sheathed it and held up his hands. "Honest! They didn't even tell me about this, uh…" He stumbled over his words before sighing. "Look, lady, if you don't say anything, I'll make sure those guys don't harm you. Doesn't look like there's anything down this way, anyway. Just, uh, go back to your room like a good noble girl?"
Noble?
Oh… The nightgown.
More importantly, "those guys" implied he wasn't working alone… and though he seemed ready to peacefully steal from the palace, his words implied the opposite intent of his supposed comrades. Eve strained her hearing and faulty magic sense, trying to extend both senses past their usual range somehow.
It was faint, but she could make out the sounds of fighting. She didn't know if that was her imagination supplying the sounds for her, but…
Eve lowered her candelabra.
He sighed in obvious relief. "Good. Now, get going—"
Thinking fast, she threw the candelabra at him before pivoting and running off, towards where she thought she heard the fighting was. The thief yelped and cursed as the candelabra clattered onto the ground, but the sound of his footsteps soon took after her.
When Eve arrived on the scene, she found the Shepherds clear at work, fighting off hooded figures in the halls.
"Eve!" a voice called, causing numerous others to look her way in surprise before resuming their fights. A pair of footsteps ran at her and the dark flier soon found her arms full of Ylissean princess. "You're awake!"
"So it seems," Eve replied before plucking the fledgling war cleric's axe from her hands. "Excuse me, Lissa."
She turned, brandishing the axe and swinging it when her pursuer neared. He caught himself in time before it connected, as she expected him to.
"What the hell, lady!?" he cried before quieting when he saw the numerous Ylissean soldiers behind her. He grimaced, the expression pulling on his rather handsome features. "Aw, crap."
"Is he one of them?" Sully asked.
"So it seems," Eve repeated. She handed Lissa's axe back and the princess took it handily. "Though his employers didn't seem to see it fit to inform him of their true intentions." Ignoring the surprised look on the thief's face, she glanced back to the Shepherds, who were apparently finished clearing the hall of intruders. "Speaking of, what's happened?"
"Um, well, we're not exactly sure," Lissa said. "The alarm sounded a bit ago and Chrom gathered us here to protect Emm! Then these guys started coming in and, well…"
"Where is the captain?"
"He went after the main force," Sully answered. "Someone saw something in the courtyard, so Captain Chrom took Frederick to investigate. He told us to take care of anyone that came down the halls and to watch over, uh, those two…"
Eve blinked. "'Those two'?"
Lissa tugged on the loose sleeve of her nightgown. "In Emm's room. This way."
Eve started to follow before remembering the thief, who remained where he was, standing awkwardly under the stares of the other Shepherds.
It went against her base instincts, but something told her that she could trust him.
"You," she said, gaze unwavering so he was not mistaken of whom she was addressing. "Come with me."
He stiffened in shock, but jerked forward when Lon'qu nudged him with the hilt of his sword. Casting a wary look at the others, who merely watched him back, he shuffled over to where she stood with Lissa.
"Name's Gaius," he muttered, clearly taken aback by the lack of outright hostility. She had outed him as being part of the enemy, and yet they did nothing. She had been similarly surprised not so long ago, welcomed despite her Plegian blood.
"Eve," she replied before following Lissa down the hall, the other Shepherds trailing behind.
"Those two" turned out to be Marth—or was it Lucina now, with her mask off and hair undone?—and a bestial woman named Panne, who was apparently the last of a race called the Taguel. Both had appeared that night, knowledgeable of the attack and infiltration, in order to protect Exalt Emmeryn from being killed.
Eve now stood in said exalt's bedroom, being caught up on the situation by Marth, who stood vigil by one of the doors.
"I'm surprised to see you here," Eve said carefully, watching the girl's body language from the corner of her eye. She was very tense, to the point that her skin was white where she clenched the hilt of her Falchion.
"I've seen the future," Marth admitted, making Eve blink in surprise. "Where Emmeryn was killed tonight. In this attack. It cannot happen. I won't allow it."
Eve didn't expect her to. "I see. Then it is well that the Shepherds were here to stave off the attack." Although a part of her did wonder why they were gathered at the palace in the first place rather than the garrison. "Captain Chrom and Sir Frederick should have the matter well at hand… Any lingering assassins should scatter if they can defeat their leader."
She paused, then turned to Gaius, who had remained silent since entering the room behind her. He seemed to have gotten closer to Emmeryn's dressing table, but was surprisingly well-behaved. That Marth had not reacted to him also told her that she had made the right call in deeming him safe to be around.
"Your commander," she said, catching his attention. "Can you tell us anything about him that could help in a confrontation?"
"Didn't you just say your captain is already on his way to go fight him?" Gaius asked in return, looking incredulous at the belated information gathering.
"Just answer, U—ah, sir," Marth cut in, sounding exasperated.
Gaius snorted. "I'm no sir." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I didn't meet him long. Just when he hired me and some others. He's creepy-looking. Tall, dark… not handsome. He's got 'evil sorcerer' written all over him." He nodded to himself. "Yeah… Dark robes, gold accessories… Trademark Plegian dark mage items. I think he's pretty high-ranked, though, judging by the Grimleal marks on his cape."
Eve felt a chill bloom in her gut at the description as Marth tensed. "Are you certain?"
"Yeah," Gaius affirmed. "His outfit's a lot fancier than the standard uniform in their army. It stood out to me 'cause of that…" He shrugged. "And, well, the gold."
"Validar," Eve said in a low tone, ignoring the way Marth's breath hitched. "His name… was it Validar?"
"Validar…?" Gaius repeated, looking thoughtful. Recognition clicked on his face. "I think so, yeah. Why do you—hey!"
Eve tore past him, out the door the Shepherds were guarding. They yelled for her as she ran, but she ignored their confused calls, ignored the desperate way Marth told them to stop her because Validar was there.
Her bastard of a father was there. Her bastard of a father who had successfully called upon Grima in another world, another future. Her bastard of a father who caused her mother's death in this time, however inadvertently, through his master's actions.
Anger burned like lava beneath her skin as she ran through the halls, letting her magic sense fly and lock on to the writhing mass of dark energy just outside the castle walls.
Several hooded figures converged on her as she ran, and in her fury she blasted through them with magic she shouldn't have been able to use without a spell tome. But she was too far gone to consider that, intent on reaching her father before Chrom could deliver justice.
"So you got revenge for her?" Eve had asked Henry once upon a time.
Henry had given her his funny little smile, head nodding. "Of course!"
And Eve had smiled back. Because she knew that she would have done the same had it been Kyanos killed, or her mother or Ilyas. She would have howled for blood, would have gotten vengeance for them in any way she could have. "Good."
When Eve burst out of the castle and into the courtyard, Chrom first felt shock at her rather explosive entrance, then relief and joy that she was awake. She had been asleep since the battle with Gangrel's forces on the mountain, after all, having knocked out while Sumia delivered her with all haste to where they had gathered in one of the abandoned forts.
Maribelle and Lissa had done their best to heal her, but in the end they could do little to wake her up again. Magic exhaustion could only be restored through rest, Miriel informed them (which Ricken translated when her vocabulary confounded them all once more). And so, all they could do was let her sleep.
That had been nearly a week ago, much to everyone's worry. In an effort to get her to rest as comfortably as possible, Chrom had her tucked away in one of the castle's guest rooms, as it was more comfortable than the beds in the garrison. The Shepherds, as a result, came to stay in the castle's bunkers for the army as well, intent on being around when their tactician and friend awakened.
It worked out for the best. Chrom didn't want to think of what would have happened if the attack occurred and they couldn't respond in time.
However…
"Eve!" Chrom called, only for Frederick to hold him back with a hand on his shoulder.
"Milord," the knight warned, "I do not believe she is in her right mind."
Alarm spiked. "What?"
Chrom turned back, looking to Eve where she stood, body tense, by the entrance to the castle. She looked strangely small and harmless, dressed in one of Emm's nightgowns—no, he amended when he looked closer. Not harmless. Her gown was torn at the ends and she held a sword in one hand that was clearly not one of the regulation blades passed out for the Ylissean army.
Even from where he and Frederick stood, some yards away, he could feel the air crackle around her. Her expression wasn't clear over the distance, but everything about her body language said she was furious. She was wound up, but clearly prepared to attack. Like a coiled snake.
"Validar," she growled. There was really no other word for it. The word left her lips like a curse and the prince found himself drawing back at the sound of it.
A cackle answered her. "Well, this is interesting! Can it truly be!?" The tall man that Chrom and Frederick had been on their way to confront, who had waited behind the assassins guarding him like a smug king, made his way to her. "After years of searching…"
Eve lunged forward, blade flashing in the moonlight. The man lifted an arm almost lazily, a stream of fire bursting forth. Chrom shouted at the suddenness of the confrontation, but Frederick's tight grip on his shoulder kept him frustratingly in place.
"Let go, Frederick!" he ordered, but the knight refused.
Before he could demand to be released again, Eve's voice stopped him cold.
"You killed her!" she screamed, voice cracking with the intensity of her fury. She swiped at the man with such force that Chrom could hear the displaced air clearly despite the pounding in his ears. Killed? No, it couldn't be, Emm…?
"Oh?" the man asked, sounding so amused that Chrom wanted to forgo using his sword and simply punching him in the face. "And who did I kill?"
A rush of energy swirled around Eve before it burst out, knocking the man back several spaces. "My MOTHER!"
Chrom felt a rush of relief, followed swiftly by sickening guilt. His tactician and, dare he say, his friend, was so clearly hurting and yet all he could think of was "Thank the gods it's not my family."
"Ho ho… How intriguing," the man murmured as he recovered from the magic strike. "Show me more, child…"
Again, he waved his arm, fire streaming in an elegant arc in Eve's direction.
Not dodging like before, Chrom watched as she ran to meet it, throwing her sword to the side. Her body moved in a way he had never seen her before, the movements cold. Calculated. Reptilian. It reminded him of the way he was told wyverns hunted, brutal and swift…
She cut through the arcfire, bringing her arm down like a claw and forcing the sorcerer back another few steps with another burst of magic.
He cackled. "Truly magnificent!" The smile he showed then was sharp and threatening. "It is unfortunate, but I shall retreat for now… It appears there are more factors I must account for than I expected…"
At his words, the bushes rustled and several more assassins leapt out, landing between him and them.
"No!" Eve cried, lashing out, but the man escaped, the others covering his back.
Chrom, though his mind was still trying to comprehend what just happened, readied the Falchion, helping cut through the hooded soldiers with Frederick.
When they were all down, somehow still alive despite Eve clearly striking them with more force than necessary and ready to be imprisoned, Chrom carefully approached Eve. He lifted a hand, moving it slowly in her sight so she was not startled and settling it on her shoulder.
Like a switch, she crumpled, collapsing to her knees on the courtyard's ground. He watched her with a strange sort of pity as she trembled, staring at her hands. Removing his cape, he placed it gingerly over her shoulders.
When he looked up, he saw the girl who called herself Marth watching them from the hall Eve had exited the castle from, sheathing her sword. A complicated series of emotions flitted across her face, but then she looked away.
Chrom sighed. What a long night this turned out to be…