My mind was quiet for the longest time after that. Just me and that little girl, curled up next to the fire as silence loomed over us. I doubt either of us knew what to say to each other. She was too afraid and I was too on edge. I didn't want to leave the flames. It was warm, and it made me feel safe. And after that little shouting match with myself, there was a lot of confusion riled up in me.
Another me in my head. Explains the voice, but doesn't explain where she came from. The idea of my mind fracturing into different personalities is… honestly horrifying. Pieces of me fighting over control. What if they split further? What other parts would show up? How much would I end up dividing until there was nothing left?
Never thought I'd know what Anankos ever felt like, but… well, this is certainly a start. Then again I'm not an all powerful dragon that's capable of mass genocide. If I go nuts, hopefully I can go nuts quietly. Somewhere I can't hurt anyone.
Was that really what I was like before I left for Valla? Was I that evil? I… I was a mean person, I know that. I tore down everyone around me, hated the world I was trying to fix, self centered to a fault. But I cared. I always cared.
Whenever I screamed at my parents or my friends, I was trying to help them. I was sarcastic because I didn't know how else to act. If I could avoid hurting someone, I did. I knew why we came back. I wanted to make things better for everybody.
Someone like her, they don't get better. Goading me into trying to murder people. Beating people up for fun, enjoying all the broken bones. That's never been me. So what am I missing here…
There's too much going on. The war, the risen, keeping my family safe. I can't add 'going insane' onto that list. There's too many people here counting on me. I haven't survived through everything just to be broken now. Not when I'm this close to finally getting what I've always wanted.
This thing thinks it's me? Not even close. I know who I am. I'm a Gods damned hero. I've saved two worlds back to back, survived an apocalypse, killed dragons, jumped through time and between worlds. And you know something? I'd do it all again, Because the rest of these losers clearly can't be trusted.
I am not going to turn into that witch. When I wake up I'm dragging myself back to Roseanne and finding my family again. Then we're going to end this, once and for all. Then we're going to Ylisstol, and I'm going to live out the rest of my life in peace. Raise my family somewhere quiet.
Her question rings through my ears on last time. Why did I leave in the first place.
That's easy. I was running away from my mistakes.
It was two years after we killed Grima.
Ylisstol didn't get sacked again. Grima'd spent all of his time here around the Dragon's table for a reason I didn't understand. In the future as soon as he'd been reawakened, he immediately went to work wiping out humanity. But I didn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
At this point we'd all accepted that my father wasn't coming back. We'd spent months searching the whole continent for him. From Plegia to Ferox, every nook and cranny. Even Say'ri and Virion chipped in, staying behind before they returned back to their real home.
He'd been given a state funeral like any other Grandmaster would have. It was like the whole halidom came out for the ceremony. Watching an empty casket get paraded through the city, guarded by soldiers. Men and women he never met were crying as he passed.
They… they didn't even know what he'd done for them. All they remembered was the tactician who'd helped win the Second Plegian War. The man who made sure Valm never invaded. He was a hero. He was a Shepherd. For them that was enough to warrant coming out.
I remember the place they buried it. An open field on the outskirts of the city, flowers all around a small tombstone. No great monuments or landmarks, nothing fancy. Mother said it was what he would've wanted, to be somewhere serene. After everything I think he would've joined the peace and quiet.
I remember coming back the day after. Staring at the hole in the ground I was supposed to pretend had my Father inside.
I remember screaming at it until my throat went red, then falling into a puddle of tears. Dunno how I got home but, next day I woke up in my Mother's guest room.
Dragged myself out of the bed and washed my face up. Saw that someone, probably Mother, cleaned and pressed my outfit. Put that on, did my hair and left. Went straight downstairs. Moved quick and quiet so I didn't wake up the Morgan and Me from this world. I avoided them on principle already, they didn't need me in their lives.
"Leaving so soon?" I heard a voice call from the other room, hairs sticking out on the back of my neck. I turned around and looked inside, frowning like I always did back then.
Mother was there in her rose nightgown, soberly smiling at me in the living room. Two couches surrounding a table, two cups of fresh coffee with steam still curling up. Dawn sun was the only light in the room, reflecting off the side of her face. She was doing her best to put on a brave face for all of us. But I knew her well enough to see she was as broken up as me.
"I need to get my new assignment from Chrom." I lied easily, standing in the door frame with both hands resting on my hips. His royal perfectness gave me the week off from any new contracts, said he could find another mercenary for them.
"I doubt he's awake at this time of day sweetie." Mother crooned, patting the seat next to her on the furniture. Reluctantly my feet pulled me over to her, sitting down and slouching back against the soft cushions. The coffee was messing with me, I still felt half-asleep and hadn't eaten since yesterday's lunch.
"Guess you'd be right there if he was." I spat, immediately regretting it. I turned over to look, scrambling to apologize. But her expression didn't change. If anything, all that came from her was a soft laugh.
"I am his bodyguard." She answered. Then and there I thought she didn't catch onto what I meant, but I guess I never did give Mother enough credit. "But he isn't important right now. How are you?"
How was I? Well, I was an emotional wreck for starters. I didn't even know where I'd head to after I left the house, probably dally around the castle or something. I hadn't felt this terrible since my first nights in Hobart, lying awake in bed and staring at the expanse. Wondering if all of this was even real.
I decided to let my guards down. My shoulders slumped and I cautiously leaned forward, grabbing the mug and spinning it around in my hands. Light brown, extra cream. Damn it she always made it the way I liked it.
"Horrible." I admitted, watching the beverage aimlessly swirl in the cup. "I didn't… I can't believe he's actually gone."
"Hm." Mother mumbled, waiting to let me continue. When I didn't, she took up her own cup. "I was surprised when you showed up yesterday. Usually you spend most of your days in the castle."
"I don't even remember coming here." I reply, still staring downwards. "I was at the gravestone, then somehow I woke up in the house."
"Well I'm glad you're here at least." She comforted, blowing away her mug's steam and letting it dance away from us. "Certainly better than spending the night asleep out there."
As she took a sip from her mug, a long silence fell between us. The morning birds started calling out to each other, and the sun kept rising higher and higher. Soon enough we were both shrouded in the soft shadows of the early morning. Heat was baring down on my neck, and it made me more antsy.
"Why him?" I croaked out, looking over to my mother as she stared back at me. "Why did he have to be the one to go?"
Mother thought about that statement long and hard, gulping down the last of her coffee before giving me any answer. "Because, Severa. I married a fool."
That was the last thing I expected her to say. Different reactions all raced into my head, ranging from screaming to throwing my lukewarm coffee into her bed tousled head. But I didn't do any of that, I squeaked at her. Like a mouse, it was pathetic.
"Naga said we could have sealed Grima away. He would have been gone for… how many millenia more?" She explained. "Long after any of us had passed on. Even if they managed to create another vessel." She laughed again, but curter this time. More bitter. "But your Father, you know how he is."
'Nobody is expendable.' That saying of his echoed through my eardrums once again. My chest started feeling heavy.
"...He apologized to me right before." Mother said, her fingers drumming against the now empty mug. The dull taps echoing around the room. "Told me he was doing it for everyone. Not you, or me, or your sister. Not even the Shepherds. Everyone. The whole world. The thought of Grima ever coming back was unbearable to him."
"They weren't his responsibility." I muttered.
Mother tutted at my remark. "He and I never do these things out requirement."
I huffed. No, no I suppose they didn't. Neither of them ever helped someone just because they were asked to. It's what made people love them, it's also what kept getting them both killed. For all I knew she'd end up dying the same way she died in my world. Trying to save people she didn't have to.
And then I'd have failed all over again.
As far as the others knew, I'd only returned to the past because Lucina had asked me. The only person who had a worse relationship with their parents other than me was Gerome, and even then not by much. That was a lie, of course. Used to do a lot of that in my old life.
"I came back to save you both." I said, pain flowing through my chest. I'd never spoken with anyone about this. "You both died trying to protect me. I had to live with that guilt."
"You think we made the wrong choice?" Mother asked me.
"Sometimes." I answer quietly. "It was harder when I was still a kid. Raising Morgan on my own wasn't easy. Plus you and me didn't really end off on the best terms."
Mother tutted, extending her arm and wrapping it around my shoulders. Even with her own problems, she still felt so warm and comforting. When everything went wrong, her being by me somehow made it all right. Could count the people who did that for me on one hand.
"I messed it all up. There should've been another way."
"He made his own choice Severa." She consoled.
"I was supposed to protect him." I lamented. "Everyone else could save both of their parents. Even Lucy saved Chrom, and he was the hardest one to keep alive."
"Dear, you did everything you could. Dare I say more than anyone could have asked for." Mother continued, stroking her hand through my matted hair. "Your father loved you Severa. He never wanted you to fear Grima again. Even if it cost him his own happiness."
"Would you have done the same thing?"
She didn't answer right away, the question mulling in her mind. I could see the gears rotating in her head, knowing that she wasn't sure of the answer herself. It wasn't the response I wanted, I'd hope she'd deny it outright.
I wriggled out of her arms, irritated. Set the mug back down onto the table and stood back up to my feet. I looked down at her, clenching and unclenching my fists as the words in my mind jumbled together.
"Why do you care so much?" I prod. "Seriously, why!? I'm not your kid!"
My hand goes up, pointing to the rooms above us. "They're your kids! I'm just some stranger who looks like them! So why do you care so much about me!? What did I do to deserve this!?"
My arm fell back to my side as I continued with my tirade, chipping my world weary parent apart with words. "You have your life now, why are you still bothering with me? I'm still the same disappointment as always!"
"Stop." She declared, voice firm.
"Why? So you can just keep acting like this matters? You don't owe me anything. I'm just some… cosmic extra now. The real me's born, I don't need to be-"
"Stop, now." Mother demanded, her voice booming about the room. Biting down on my tongue, I complied, not wanting to dig my grave deeper than I already had.
She stood up to her feet, eyes up as she listened for any motion or movement above us. When she felt comfortable that the toddlers hadn't been woken up, she set her gaze right on me. The death-stares of all death stares. Felt like I'd been caught stealing from the sweets jar all over again.
"I am only going to say this once, so you best listen." She began, jaw clenched. "Do not ever ask me to not care for you. No matter what you say or how you act, that changes nothing. I am your mother, even if I didn't raise you. I care for you as my own because you are my own. The fact that you're an different person than your younger sister-"
Another flick upwards with her eyes, focusing on where my younger self's room was."-And she is your sister, changes nothing. You are not some frivolous addition, leftover or extra. You are my daughter. You're too much like me and your Father to be anything else."
"But why do you feel that way!?" I shouted back "You've only known me for a few years! How can you care about me so much?!"
"Because I do. Must there be a reason?" She answered back, words hard as stone. "Severa, I do not know if you will ever be a parent given your tastes." She paused as my face blanched, followed by a roll of her eyes. "For Naga's sake, I see how you look at her, do you think I'm dim?"
"Y-you're one to talk!" I stammer out. "Weren't you tripping over Chrom for Gods knows how long!?"
"Why on earth do you think I understand?" She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose before releasing a long exhale. "Though the irony is not lost on me…" She muttered under her breath.
Mother put her mug down, grabbed mine, then offered it over. "Just let yourself be loved, child. It'll help you more than you know."
The memory falls apart. The last discussion I had with her before leaving again. Later that day, Anankos came to the castle and begged for help. Owain, Laslow and I were the only ones there. Why did they agree so fast? I don't know. Probably for better reasons than me.
I was just running from my failures.
It's night when I finally stir awake.
The crunch of boots walking through the grass echoes into my ears, along with the whinny of a horse. My eyes open to find myself still laying where I was before, face first in the forest at the edge of the clearing. It's so quiet now, I can even hear the water running silently from the river. The battle's long over.
A hand grabs my shoulder and starts pulling me up. I'm still to dazed and weak to resist as I'm moved over and propped up against a tree.
"Hey, hey! I found someone alive here!" The man calls over, and another thunder of footsteps pounding over. The warmth of lamplight enshrouds me, along with the feeling of a hand feeling up and down my form.
When my vision unblurs I see two figures crouched next to me. One's an archer with their bow slung over their shoulder, the other's a cleric fidgeting around in what's probably a medical sack. The archer's head is completely shaved clean, beady eyes bouncing around as he tries to find out if anything's wrong with me. Both are wearing blue outfits.
As his hand reaches the back of my head, I can feel a bolt of pain surge through my brain. As he retracts it back, I can make out the blood covering the tips of his fingers. I'm still bleeding, that explains why I passed out and stayed out.
"Gods, Marilyn. Of all the times to leave your stave at camp-"
"They called the truce on short notice, I'm so sorry that I got caught off guard!" A roll of gauze appears in her hands, she leans forward and starts wrapping it around my forehead.
"Is it that hard to keep a stick with an orb on you?" The man laments
"They're heavy." The girl continues to whine as she finishes the dressing.
"Oh wah, wah. I carry a bow, quivers and sword. You just have a stick and a backpack." He answers back.
These two are gonna give me brain damage. I probably already have that from the hit I took. No time to just sit here listening to two nimrods go back and forth with each other.
My hand grabs hold of what's behind me, a tree I think, as I start pulling myself up. One of them tries to take hold of me again, to keep me down or help me up I dunno, but I shove them off and keep standing.
World is spinning. Head banging. Eyes hurting from the lamp. Yep, I am definitely concussed.
"Well don't just stand there, help her." The man, 'Mitchell', orders. His cleric friend catches me just as I lose my stance, helping me stay still.
"What should we do? We're here to grab bodies, not find survivors." She asks.
"We take her back to camp and let a good healer do their job." He says.
The world is a swirling mess of color and chaos. Brown, black and blue merge into one another, making it near impossible for me to even tell where I am or what I see. Every time I open my eyes, it just makes my head hurt even more. The only reason why I'm walking is because this girl's letting me use her as a living crutch.
More voices come after a while, none are paying any attention to me as my battered carcass is half-dragged through the area. I hear random snippets about what's happened since I left the world of the living. Truce is the most common word being thrown around.
They keep moving me along, feet stumbling over the field, both of my impromptu saviors trying to flag down someone who can get to work on me proper. Whether they find someone or not, I don't find out. My world goes back to the dark.
By the time I'm lucid again, we've left the field entirely. The rumble of the ground rouses me back alive, grumbling as I sit up once more. One rap against the the ground makes a strong echo, and I'm pretty sure I can hear a horse at the front. Carriage, great. Traveling back in style.
"So she finally rises." Someone says, voice dripping with sarcasm. I look to see none other than Virion's own Brigadier sitting above me, staff in hand.
"Two hours. I had to keep you under intensive care for two hours." She starts, tapping the floorboards with the bottom of her mending stave. "I could have spent that time fixing countless other patients, but no. You had to be almost broken."
As I move to stand, she lifts her staff up quickly and presses the tip against my chest. Before I know it, I'm back against the ground once more. "No sudden movements, you're still very much concussed." She orders.
Begrudgingly, I rise back up into a sitting position and stay there. My body certainly feels better, though my head's still banging heavily like a gong. Not sure if that's the hit I took, my evil twin, or a cocktail of both.
"Honestly, the amount of trouble you've caused today." Blanche kept ranting on, not really paying much mind to me and more to her own anger. "Disappearing for Gods knows how long, do you realize how lucky you are? If we hadn't brokered a period to collect the dead, we likely would have never found you."
"You brokered a what now with who?" I ask in confusion, barely getting a handle on what was going on. When I see the contemptuous look, I just tap my head softly with a finger. "Concussion, remember your Holiness? Give a girl some slack."
"Heavens preserve me…" She says in exasperation. "The Duke sent an offer for truce so we could carry out proper burial ceremonies and find the fallen. They agreed. They agreed too quickly, frankly. Which makes me think their casualties are higher than anticipated."
"Or it's a trap." I grumble, to which she nods in gruff agreement, rubbing my temples as my pain starts to come under control.
"The fact that these invaders are willing to do this makes no sense." She keeps rambling. "Of course your blasted sibling didn't listen to my warnings. No, she and the others had to go flying off to find your corpse."
Others. Guess that means Subaki, Virion and Cherche. Ugh, great. They must've been running up and down the walls trying to find out what happened. That'll be a fun conversation to have. 'Hey, so I've got a voice in my head telling me to murder everything! Oh, and when I was out cold, I saw her. She looks like me. Plus there's a small child with her, no idea who she is.'
I need to put myself into an asylum.
Still, it's… nice, knowing that many people are looking out for me.
Blanche seems to notice the positive shift in my demeanor. "Your daughter is fine as well. Percival has treated her injury effectively, she should be able to return to her duties come tomorrow."
Another relief off of my shoulders. She's fine, everyone's fine. I didn't kill my kid, I didn't screw up more. It's fine, it's fine. Everything's turning out fine.
"So where are we going now?" I ask, going up in the air as the cart hits a bump.
"Back to camp so I can organize these funerals." She answers. "Also so you can return to your post."
"Wait, I'm good to fight?" I ask in surprise.
"You are able to supervise." She informs through narrowed eyes. "Go into combat and I will make you wish we never found you."
"Didn't our last talk end with you saying you want me dead anyway?" I hiss back, not taking to the threat well.
"And as I told you back in the castle, Volkner. If I wanted you dead, you're body would already be in a pyre." She answers with just as much spite. "Did I heal you or not? Some gratitude would be nice."
My mouth twitches at the idea of giving any good words to this immense pain in my arse. Our little truce is barely hanging together as is, I'd rather just put her on full blast until she can't hear properly anymore.
Thankfully, the voice doesn't indulge my darker desires. "You did a decent job. I'm not bleeding to death, so I guess there's that." I say with not a negligible amount of effort.
This seems to placate her, at least for the time being. She slumps deeper into her seat and runs a hand over her face, wiping off a few drops of either dew or sweat.
"Shouldn't you be back at camp doing, I dunno, 'Brigadier' stuff?" I ask curiously. "Bit dangerous for you to be near the front."
"My duty is to the wounded first. I won't forsake my purpose because of my position." She points out. "And as you've seen, I can handle myself in a scrape."
The picture of her ripping that Risen's arm off flashes in front of my eyes. Yeah, yeah she can.
"This war will end someday. And when it does, I want to make sure I kept more people in this world than I took out." Blanche continues, laying it all out.
"Seems a bit weird for a person of the cloth to be trained in killing." I point out.
She waves a dismissive hand. "The Valmese sect of the Divine Church has long since trained their healers in martial action since the days of Mila. Queen Celica herself was a War Priestess."
"Er… a what now?"
Again she groans. "Must I continue to spout information at you?"
"Well I like knowing things so, yes please?" I ask, only half joking. I do want to know more about what's going on, but ancient Valmese history isn't what I'm actually curious about. "Go back to this truce. What are the rules."
Blanche sits up, adjusting her pinkish steel vambraces a bit. "We are not to engage with one another for a full two days. Neither of us is to attempt to make any territorial gains, perform raids or scout one another out. Once the time has passed, hostilities will resume."
"So your run of the mill armistice." I add, which Blanche nods to in confirmation. "Why isn't Virion suing for a proper treaty?"
"Their leader refused for the time being. Once the conflict resumes we will continue as planned."
"And that is…?"
"You'll receive your orders when you need them." She says, cutting off my request entirely. Great, she'll tell me a bunch of useless crap but not everything of what I need. "But yes, those are the terms."
I take a seat across from her, rubbing where my shoulder's buckler once was before it got sliced off. Probably have a new scar on my arm because of that axe wielding maniac, and she's still out for blood. Lovely.
My mind starts running a mile a minute as I try to think of the reasons why they'd agree to even terms so easily. Maybe we'd stunned them into holding their advance? They probably weren't planning on launching an attack, what with how their camps weren't marshaled. But there's no way we wiped out enough of their people to make them turn tail and run.
"Exactly how well did the mines work?" I ask.
"Disturbingly so. There is more green in those fields from Valientian uniforms than grass."
"Enough to cause a rout?"
"After a while, yes. But they've clearly reorganized."
"...Have there been any Risen sightings around here?"
Blanche raises a brow, but shakes her head. "No. But there have been reports deeper within our borders. We're planning to dispatch troops to handle it."
"Are they still coming from the southwest?" Another nod. "How many?"
"Five sightings. One attack, but it was repulsed." She informs, before leaning atop her staff. "What are you thinking, Volkner?"
"Risen don't come from nowhere." I say. "The dead naturally become them. All of these corpses should be shambling around and trying to kill us."
"But they aren't." She points out. "Not a single sentry has reported a terror near this area."
"Which means these aren't the same as Grima's Risen." I point out, drawing out my glove and showing her the Brand of the Defile resting on the back of my palm. "See this? No glow. Whenever Risen are around, my hand turns into a light show."
"...Are you suggesting they're coming from another source?" She asks.
"Morgan said she found new leads yesterday."
"But what else creates Risen other than fell essence?"
I lift both my hands in defeat, turning my palms to her. "Beats me, sister."
"Lovely, back to square one." She grumbles, resting her chin atop a hand. "At least we know the Fell Dragon cannot have a hand in this."
"Grima can't come back, we made sure of that." I manage, looking down at the wood as I slip my glove back on.
"How are you certain?" She asks. "When your First Exalt defeated him in the past, he still managed to rise again. The Grimleal found a way, something about a 'vessel'."
"Naga gave us an alternative, we used it. It worked." I answer resolutely, now twiddling my fingers together. "It had to have worked…" I repeat, more trying to assure myself than anything. If Grima was still alive after all that happened, I think I'd finally snap.
Blanche, empathetic as always, leans forward and places a hand on my shoulder. I can feel it squeeze as I keep staring at the wood, pinning myself in place. "I apologize. Given your parentage I should not be casting… doubt." She consoles.
It doesn't help much, but it's enough to get me to stop fidgeting. Still, she presses on with her talk. "Many people on Valm still remember your father as a liberator. He died well, Miss Volkner. Should we all be so lucky."
The cart comes to a halt, both of our heads popping up to see that we've arrived at out destination. Lamps light the paths of the canvas city I've come to call home this past month. A guard patrol make their way through, offering Blanche assistance out of the wagon. She refuses, meanwhile I'm here with bloody bandaging around my head and I'm walking without help.
As the soldiers leave us be, she gives me one final glance. "Will you return to your quarters?"
My head shakes, stirring another shock of pain through the brain. "Ugh… no. I'm… Caeldori's still in the medical tent, right?"
"Percival's been hovering over her constantly in there." She says, before giving me a dismissive wave. "Go, go. See your child and get a concoction from the quartermaster. I shall be returning to my post."
She starts leaving, hefting her staff and axe out from the cart and walks away towards the center of the spread out tapestry estate. My hand travels down to the sword on my hip, just making sure that the silver blade's still there.
"Blanche." I call out, the Cleric pausing and looking over her shoulder.
"Thank you." I say. "For helping me, you didn't have to."
"I rarely do things because I have to, Captain." She answers with a smirk. "But let us avoid making a habit of this, lest people think we are becoming amicable towards one another."
She offers me a farewell wave with her staff, before continuing on her path. I stand there for a while longer, mulling over everything that's happened today. A fight in the woods, nearly getting killed, arguing with myself, more bad memories of my past, and then another 'friendly' conversation with the resident zealot.
Hrm. Friends with a hyper-religious axe murderer. Well it wouldn't be the first time.
A/N: Well this was a heavy chapter to put out. I think we're all due for a nice dose of family fluff come next time
o/
