Robin stirred into wakefulness before the sun had risen. Despite his tendency to wake late, he was not fond of sleeping in. Rather, he never had motivation to begin his day.

Part of Robin had hoped he would someday find a reason to wake. He knew now as he rested, with sleep once more pulling at his mind and on odd weight on his chest and side, that he had yet to find such a purpose. His search for relief in Kjelle's promises the night prior had failed. He was afraid of the future as ever before.

In his forthcoming attempt to stand, Robin found that he was incapable of moving. The weight against his body held strong, and fastened him to the ground.

As he returned to wakefulness, Robin angled his head to view what had ensnared him in his sleep. He blinked in a vain attempt to comprehend what he was seeing, though his dozing mind found no issue with the scene before him.

Kjelle had stayed at his side over the night, as she had promised, and had remained as close to his side as humanly possible. Her body was pressed against his own. She now slept on her side, her head and one arm set upon Robin's chest. Her torso and limbs were held flush against him in a way that involved too much twisting and too many personal space violations for Robin to consider comfortable.

Robin should have felt nothing at seeing anyone in such a position. There would be nothing worth feeling. However, there was now an odd welcome hum in his chest. That hum confused him for several long moments, drawing his mind to any potential number of causes and resolutions, though he decided that none were worth taking.

Any action taken would disturb Kjelle, and she was at rest. She was too peaceful to wake. Robin wanted for her to have as much of that peace as often as possible. Her breathing was mesmerising, and the areas where her head and chest lay had shifted from weighty to warm. Robin draped an arm around her as best he could without disturbing her slumber and drifted off to sleep, that persistent hum in his chest never fading.


Tharja stirred in the dreary light of her inn room. She had closed the blinds of her window, allowing little natural light to seep into her working space. Though she had invested much time in her research, none of her efforts to extract magical energy from inorganic sources had yet succeeded, but she saw no reason to stop. Robin and Kjelle had left the port a matter of days ago - there would be much time for her to perfect her process before Valm invaded.

After checking over her work from the night prior, Tharja threw on a clean set of robes and exited her room. The fact that magical energy could be derived from organic sources alone had long been known to any practitioner of magecraft. That did not stop Tharja from questioning why the laws of magic were as they are. Should her efforts to cast magic with unenchanted shards of stone, metal, and other substances fail or succeed, then that would be all the proof necessary to lay to rest decades of debate over the nature of spellcasting.

Though there were few windows on the second floor of the inn, Tharja was blinded by the bright light they offered. She grumbled choice words about daylight and made her way downstairs, only to be met with a greater abhorrence.

"My, my! The greatest beauty has awoken at last!" a familiar posh voice greeted Tharja. "Why, I was beginning to think that you had set to rot in your paltry bedspread. Consider myself glad that you haven't."

"Virion." Tharja mumbled a cold greeting.

"Truly, you should make an effort to arise earlier than hours before sundown, lest you miss all the happenings of the day." Virion said, ignoring her coldness. "You were absent for the departure of ladies Cherche and Say'ri, and you've missed a meal with yours truly. Am I that repulsive?"

"Yes." Tharja said without missing a beat, pushing past Virion's table toward the inn's kitchen. "Don't disturb me as I work, Virion. Also, keep in mind that I'll be working until we're at war, and then fighting in said war. So don't bother me. Ever."

"Alas, what more did I expect from you, my dearest Tharja?" Virion sighed. "Your outward countenance is that of ice, haggard despite your beauty, yet you care for all so sincerely. You believe your research can save lives? Ha, I envy your naivety."

His words stopped Tharja. Her expression twitched into a frown as she spun around. Her frown was met with a carefree smile.

"Are you attempting to insult my research, Virion?" Tharja asked with a forceful chill.

"Of course not - I'm insulting you, my dear. Would you prefer I use language more simplistic?" Virion smiled brighter as the intensity of her glare increased tenfold.

"What are you playing at? Is this supposed to get me to go to dinner with you? If so, you're failing." Tharja said, retaining her calm despite her building anger.

"As desirable as such an outing would be, I am not of the mind to engage in such activities." Virion said.

Tharja instantly grew concerned. "You aren't available to have dinner with a woman? You? Of all people?"

"A grave loss for the women of the world, I am certain." Virion nodded. "The conqueror will be upon us soon, my dear. All the dinners in the world, all the kind words, the allies, the enemies, the love, the hatred… all will have been for naught. He will not be stopped by any count of human ken."

Tharja's concern gave way to disinterest and she made her way once more to the kitchen. Virion had been acting much too melodramatic the past few days, and it was wearing thin. "Grow up, Virion. Fear has no place in our pursuit of victory. Perhaps if you cease your cowardice, you'll be able to defeat Walhart with the rest of us. As of now you're dead weight."

"I pray you die before me. That way, you won't live to see how wrong you are." Virion said.

Tharja scoffed and entered the kitchen, picking out as much food as she could carry. Her mind raced as she went - pep talks were not her forté. Virion's predicament was problematic, but for now, she had no idea how to handle the situation. Tharja passed Virion on her way back to her room, then stopped and spun toward him. She said nothing.

"May I be of some help to you?" Virion asked, disinterested in her stare.

"You remind me of him. Of Robin." Tharja said after a long pause. Virion raised an eyebrow, but before he could make any inquiries, Tharja spoke again. "Not your appearance, or your speech, or anything like that. There's something about you…"

Her eyes narrowed to a point on Virion's remnant smile. "You've given up. That's what I saw in him before he left, why he seemed so irrationally pleasant. You've both forfeited your hope."

"For all of our sakes, I pray our tactician hasn't given up hope." Virion said. "Alas, it is fated that we fall, Robin or not. The question is when."

"If Robin gave up hope before leaving with Kjelle… gods, I can't believe I didn't see this!" Tharja hissed, and with a shake of her head she stepped again toward her room. "He… he'll be okay. It's Robin. He'll always be okay."

"Or not." Virion piped up. "Perchance he seeks death? Why, wouldn't that be a fanciful escape from Valm's terror! If only such a means was as swift as facing the conqueror in battle."

Tharja stopped in her tracks again to look back at Virion, concern now written across her face. "Virion… don't die." she murmured quietly, then returned to her room. She had no idea whether or not Virion had heard her plea.

In the dark confines of her room, Tharja once again set about drawing magic from inanimate objects, snacking on her acquired food as she went. None of her experiments yet bore any fruit, and she went to sleep more disgruntled and annoyed than when she had awoken.


The next morning was similar to the first. Tharja's materials sat unchanged and in need of replenishing, and so she set out into the harsh light of midday to find more food and supplies. Virion was no longer lazing in the inn. The innkeeper allowed Tharja entry into the kitchen and access to all manner of foodstuffs thanks to the Khans who had arranged her stay.

Upon exiting the kitchen, Tharja was met with the sight of Olivia and Lon'qu resting at and near a table, respectively, with an Anna sitting across from Olivia. Much to Tharja's chagrin, Olivia spotted and waved her over to the table.

"Thank goodness you're here, Tharja." Olivia said as the sorceress took a reluctant seat. The Anna across from them waved, an innocent smile plastered on her face. Some form of official parchment from Ylisse sat atop the table. "I'm sorry to drag you over, but I don't have the authority to handle this. I mean, neither do you, but…"

"What is it?" Tharja asked icily, her voice more hoarse than she had anticipated. Staying awake for long hours through the night was doing her no favours.

"I'm a Shepherd!" Anna announced happily, her smile brightening. She tapped the papers sat atop the table, which Tharja was now able to recognise as completed acceptance documents for the Shepherds. No one but Robin or Chrom could have given her such papers.

"The innkeeper told us she was looking for Shepherds, so Lon'qu and I met with her." Olivia explained. "I didn't expect her to have something like this… are they legitimate? We should wait for Robin or Chrom before doing anything, right?"

"Did you receive these from Robin? Is he well?" Tharja asked Anna, ignoring the dancer at her side.

"Yep and yep!" Anna beamed. "He and that time traveller lady met me at a village in eastern Ferox. Er, wait, that was supposed to be a secret, wasn't it…"

Tharja raised an eyebrow, but quickly lowered it back into place. "Nevermind; all that matters is Robin's safety. Now, though I-"

"Khan Flavia told me! She hired my family and I to find weapons and do some other business here in Ferox, which is why I'm here now. Robin gave me these papers after we fought some bandits. Now that Khan Flavia has her weapons, and now that this Gaius friend of yours has found the rest of the time travellers, I should be all set to quit Anna-ing and join you!"

Tharja blinked, stupefied that an Anna would surrender so much covert information without prodding. "Okay, I don't care. Welcome to the Shepherds. Don't impede any of my work." she said, then left for her room, leaving Olivia to fail to understand what had happened.

"Hooray, I'm a Shepherd!" Anna cheered. "To commemorate this monumental event, meals and drinks are on me tonight! Trust me, I've got more than enough cash!"

Tharja raised an eyebrow at the new Shepherd but continued walking. She was stopped by Lon'qu before she could ascend to her room.

"I believed you to be over Robin. Your obsession hasn't died." the swordmaster quelled a tremor in his voice.

"You're wrong. I'm expressing mere concern." Tharja said. She brushed past Lon'qu, who offered no resistance beyond a shuddering sidestep. She paused and turned back to the swordsman.

"Did you notice anything odd with Robin before he left? Anything hopeless?" she asked.

Lon'qu narrowed his gaze, an expression that would imply scrutiny for anyone other than him. "I know not what you mean."

"My apologies. Goodbye." Tharja ended their conversation with a wave of her hand.

Lon'qu's gaze narrowed further. He refrained from stopping Tharja, and instead lost himself in thought before returning to his distance from Olivia's side.

In Tharja's room, the sorceress set out once again on her experiments. She retained hope that she would make a grand breakthrough. When her test were set into motion as with each night prior, she again never attained her desired results but never halted her efforts.

Tharja fell asleep in the latest hours of night and woke once more into the bright light of midday. She repeated that process without fail for many days. Her schedule rarely brought her into contact with others. There would be much for her to attend in time, but for now, she was content to focus upon her study.


Several days later, Tharja was once again securing food and supplies from the storehouse of the inn. Anna and Virion were sat at different tables on the main floor. Virion claimed he had nowhere else to be, and Anna had returned from a successful selling spree to count her gold, despite her claim to have forfeited the life of a merchant for Shepherdry.

The door to the inn burst open as Tharja was exiting the kitchen, supplies and food stacked high atop her arms. Out of the corner of her eye she could make out a young woman with white hair and a bow slung over one shoulder, though she appeared too gaunt to be a threat. Tharja dismissed her and moved toward her room.

"Ah, such a frail beauty you are, my sweet." Virion said on instinct, ignoring how the woman's ragged breaths made her sound as though she had run a marathon. His words stopped, though she refused to believe she was the least amount jealous. "I would love to invite you to stay with me, as you are in clear need of a room, but alas; such efforts stand for naught. May the conqueror find you last, my dear."

Tharja rolled her eyes and maneuvered over to Virion, shifting her goods into one arm to tap the sniper's head and scold him. "Stop your nonsense, Virion - and don't share military secrets with a civilian."

"Hey, you have a weapon! Wanna fight a war with us?" Anna piped up from her table. Tharja turned to her, her mouth curled open in revulsion, her head jerking from side to side to dispel the woman's enthusiasm. Anna nodded her head at an equivalent pace.

"Thank goodness, lady Anna!" the woman erupted in joy and dashed over to the merchant's table. "Oh gods, you have no idea how many places I looked trying to find the Shepherds! I should've started with the inns, but I was scared that something bad would happen if I wasn't fast enough, and I haven't slept for a while, and… y-you are with the Shepherds, right?"

Anna glanced between the woman, Tharja, and Virion, then shook her head. "Nope, sorry. I think they all went on vacation to Tellius. Wanna try following them?"

Tharja sighed and approached the woman. "You. What business do you have with the Shepherds?"

"Huh?" The woman spun around. "I need to find them, so I can save-!" she froze, her mouth dropping open as she stared Tharja and Virion. "A pompous archer and a cold but beautiful sorceress… Virion? Mother!?"

"I beg your pardon?" Virion spoke up, raising his eyebrows at the woman.

Tharja shook her head and made for her room. "Anna, here's your first mission as a Shepherd: remove this woman from my vicinity."

"Wait! Don't go! I'm Noire, your daughter!" the woman cried, reaching out and grabbing Tharja by her wrist. "I mean, I never knew you before you died, and I guess the you here doesn't know who I am, but…"

"Ah, another time traveller! Of course! Isn't that the most rational explanation of all?" Virion said, his tone decisively mocking.

"Hm… come with me, now." Tharja ordered, glaring at where Noire had grabbed her before pulling the girl in to the kitchen.

"Thank you, mother!" Noire smiled, keeping pace with Tharja without question. "I promise, I'll only need a few minutes to explain everything. Kjelle has a bit of a loud mouth, but I guess that ended up being useful… er, I may need a few hours to explain everything in full, but a basic summary should be fine for now, right? Is father here with you? Have you met any of my other friends?"

Tharja whipped Noire forward into the kitchen, flinging the gaunt girl with a negligible amount of strength. She then slammed the door to the kitchen shut. Then, she placed a magic seal over the door's lock, ensuring that Noire would have no means of escaping and disturbing her further.

"Tend to that mess when you have the time." Tharja said to both Anna and Virion, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged, respectively. Neither cared much for what had happened despite Noire's urgency, and Tharja felt the same. All she wanted was to work in peace, not to be disturbed by a vagrant.

"Mother? Mother!?" Noire called out from the sealed kitchen. "Hey, I think the door got stuck! Mother!? Virion, Anna!? Hello!?"

Tharja ignored her cries and returned to her room without a second thought. She once again set about performing her experiments and yet again made no headway.


The next morning, Tharja arose as before, her routine mimicking that from each day prior. When she made her way downstairs, Anna was sitting alone at a table near the kitchen with another pile of coins. Tharja approached the kitchen, but was stopped by Anna before she could open the door.

"I'd be careful about going in there." Anna said. "In case you didn't catch it, her name is Noire and she's a time traveller. As far as I can tell her story checks out. She's unusual, though."

"That woman's still in there? Didn't you let her out?" Tharja asked, surprised at Anna's apparent incompetence.

"I did - several times." Anna said. "She kept closing the door and saying that you wanted her to be in there, and that she wasn't able to leave as a result. I don't know how bad her life was up to this point, but I'm assuming it was awful for her to be this fearful of someone like you."

"Someone like me? You are aware of how intimidating most find me to be, yes?" Tharja glared.

Anna shrugged, refusing to be rattled by the sorceress' demeanor. "Eh, you seem like a softy."

Tharja scowled at Anna for a long moment before shaking her head and moving back to the kitchen door. Anna had dispelled the weak magic she had applied, leaving the door free to open and close without issue. Tharja pushed the door open, in part expecting Anna to have lied for some idiotic purpose.

Her suspicions were crushed when Noire sprang up from the floor and yawned before snapping to attention. The large bags under her eyes indicated that she had yet to rest.

"Mother! Er, I mean, lady Tharja!" Noire bowed. "Um… can I call you mother? Haha, sorry, not important, ah, ha… a-anyway, may I leave yet? I know I shouldn't be asking, but…"

"Gods, what is wrong with you?" Tharja remarked as she appraised Noire. "Are you so damaged a person that you would express no agency?"

"Damaged? No, not at all!" Noire defended herself, gaining a shred of a backbone that endeared her to Tharja. "It's only that… well… you were supposedly a scary person in my time. Father was nice, but he used to say that you would hex people at the drop of a hat. I-I don't want to be cursed like them, not when I have the chance to get along with you."

Tharja narrowed her eyes, then closed them and took a deep breath. "Permit me a moment to understand this." she said, and Noire held silent.

After a long pause, Tharja reopened her eyes, though her gaze was no less cold. "I can tell you now that you'll be hexed if you continue to whimper like a wounded pup. If you seek any form of care from me, earn it. If not, then leave my sight."

"Yeah, that's about what I should've expected." Noire sighed and hung her head low, but then popped back up with an uneasy smile. "So, you, ah… you haven't taken to the idea of me being your daughter yet?"

"I'll subscribe to no such nonsense." Tharja said. "Were there another version of me in another time that birthed you, their death would be that of your mother. I am unmarried. Your mother is not in this time. She and I are not the same."

"Ha, haha, ha…" Noire laughed through a tremor in her voice. "That… that's okay! You'll come around! Everything will fall into place once you meet father!"

"And who might that be?" Tharja asked, intent on putting an end to Noire's ramblings.

"Er… I don't know if I should…" Noire mumbled, though she succumbed to a strong glare from Tharja. "His name is Henry! He's another Shepherd, one who was supposed to join during the war with Plegia but didn't in this time and oh gods now we'll never find him and you'll never fall in love and I won't be born meaning I'll fade from existence oh gods please no!"

Tharja groaned. Noire's personality was wearing her on patience. The archer was beginning to shudder at a hazardous pace. Tharja exited the kitchen and closed the door behind her, leaving Noire alone in the room to hyperventilate. She paused for a moment upon exiting before committing to her actions and heading for her room.

"Wow, seriously? You're going to leave her in there? That's cold." Anna commented from her table.

"She can stay there until she learns to stop being a waste of space." Tharja said. She knew she was being too harsh on the girl, but also refused to accept any of her tall tales.

"You know she's not gonna leave." Anna said.

Tharja tilted her head back and hissed a breath through her teeth. Another groan escaped her lips, and she whipped around to once more open the door to the kitchen.

"Get out of there. Now." she ordered to Noire, who had returned to the floor after Tharja's departure.

"Thank you, mother!" Noire beamed. She stepped out of the kitchen with a renewed sense of freedom.

"Have you any knowledge of magic?" Tharja asked, ignoring Noire's shifting composure.

"I can't cast spells well, but I know my way around enchantments." Noire confirmed. "You weren't there to teach me, and father was always being sent off on missions, and…"

Tharja raised a hand to stop her from speaking. "I don't need your life story, only an answer to my question. Have you any information that would be worth sharing? Since you're a time traveller and all." she said, her voice carrying as little faith as she put in the assertion.

"Um… people die if you try to enchant them."

"Yes, of course; no living being can be enchanted by a novice. Should a master attempt such a thing it would only be in the form of a blood pact. I'd be surprised if there's a mage in the world who doesn't know as such."

"You'd have been surprised, then." Noire muttered and regained her less certain composure. "Um… oh, I know an enchantment that somewhat reverses the flow of time! That one belongs to father - Henry, so you probably don't know it yet."

Tharja raised an eyebrow at Noire. "Show me this enchantment. It may be of some use."

"Right now?" Noire asked, concerned by the prospect before another sharp glare silenced her qualms. "Er, right, of course! I'll do it right now!"

She snatched a bag of flour from a shelf at her side and shook it in the air before her. The kitchen entrance and Tharja's front were promptly covered in white powder. Tharja glared in silence at Noire.

"Sorry, that was… an accident…" Noire apologised. "I'll clean it up right away! You'll see!"

Noire closed her eyes to focus on her magic. The bag in her hands began to glow in a pale light, which soon spread to the flour coating the kitchen and Tharja. The flower left Tharja's body without sensation or sound. The light encompassing the bag in Noire's hands faded. When it disappeared Noire lurched forward, all of the weight she had emptied from the bag returning at once.

"Remarkable." Tharja breathed. Her gaze locked on Noire. "Write the incantation down and give it to me. You may have proven your worth."

The bag of flour hit the ground as Noire gasped for air and brought her hands to her knees. "I-I'm sorry, that… that took a lot out of me. I don't think I can… can do anything quite yet…"

"There are potions in my room upstairs - third door on your right as you arrive at the top of the second floor. Go there, await my return, and touch none of my equipment beyond what is necessary." Tharja ordered.

Noire nodded and squeezed out of the kitchen, then made a dash for the staircase, ignoring Anna. Tharja filled her arms with as much food as possible and followed Noire.

Before Tharja could enter her room, Noire poked her head out from her door, a quizzical expression on her face. "Hey, sorry to ask, but what are you doing with this?" she brought out one of her hands, in which was a small cluster of stones on which Tharja had experimented.

"I told you to touch nothing!" Tharja scowled from behind her stack of food. "If you must ask, I'm attempting to extract magic from inorganic materials. Now return that before the experiment is ruined!"

"What, are you serious? Even I know that's a dumb idea, and I'm me!" Noire said. "If you want to be able to store magic in them, you have to at least enchant them, like so…"

"You fool! I already have enchantments in place to monitor them! Someone as incorrigible as you will only destroy them!" Tharja hissed, dropping her food to dart her hands out toward Noire.

Much to Tharja's despair and Noire's confusion, the stones began to vibrate against one another. Tharja whipped them away from her, throwing them at speed toward the closed room opposite hers. The stones seared through the wooden door and into the room as though nothing had stood in their way. An instant later, a massive explosion sounded in the room and shook the inn, with a trail of dark vapour beginning to seep out from the holes in the door.

"Wait, so bad stuff happens whenever you mess up an enchantment? It doesn't have to be on a living subject?" Noire observed in awe. "Wow. I had no idea that would happen."

Tharja stared at the ruined door before turning back to Noire. Her face now bore a scowl more harsh than any other. "What did I tell you!? I said not to touch anything! What about that was so difficult to follow!?"

"Haha, about that… we should close this…" Noire laughed weakly. She stepped out into the hall and closed the door to Tharja's room behind her, then took several steps further down the hall away from the room.

"What did you-!?" Tharja managed to get out before another explosion shook the inn. This one brought her to her knees through the force of several successive shockwaves. As if on cue, Noire's time reversal wore off, and Tharja was coated once more in a layer of flour.

"Godsdamnit! Did you time that!?"

"Please don't yell at me! I-I was trying to help!"


Kjelle awoke to the warmth of the sun on her skin and another, more alien warmth around her. She tensed her muscles and grumbled to herself, regretting that she had to wake from a pleasant rest. After several long minutes she sighed in resignation, accepting her need to face the day as she made to stand from wherever she had made her bed.

Some form of restraint held her in place, preventing her from rising with ease. Kjelle tensed further and prepared to force her way out of her unknown restraint. Only then did her vision sharpen enough to see Robin lying on the ground beneath her, asleep and at peace. She knew in an instant that she would do nothing to disturb him.

Then, she began to realise how close they were, and how she had rested her head atop his chest. Her face turned a deep shade of red as she opened her mouth to shout on instinct, though she held silent. Her face continued to hold its flush red hue as she struggled to move around.

Somehow, she had wrapped one of her legs over Robin's, who had then snaked his arm around her back. Kjelle was truly restrained in her entwinement with Robin, lest she rouse him with enough force.

Despite her embarrassment and their unusual compromising positions, Kjelle had no desire to wake Robin. How could she want to disturb anyone so peaceful?

If she were to be honest, Kjelke was also enjoying Robin's resting embrace. There was something calming to it, something warm and inviting. Something wonderful. She didn't want to disturb him for fear of disturbing those welcome sensations.

And so, Kjelle swallowed her uncharacteristic embarrassment. As her blush died she began to move her head close to Robin's chest once more. She settled into the same spot she had awoken in, listening to the calming sounds of his breathing. The arm and leg she had laid over him tightened by the smallest of amounts before relaxing. They were safe. She was happy and relaxed. She could ask for nothing more.

The day was far too old for her to fall asleep again, but Kjelle was content to lay in relaxation for as much time as possible. Nothing could ruin the moment she was experiencing.

I can just pretend that I woke up later. she thought to herself. I can act embarrassed, feign anger… er, no, that'll happen anyway. As soon as I'm thinking properly again. I'm too tired to do that right now. Of course. I should rest more.

Robin stirred in his sleep. His breathing shifted enough to give Kjelle reason to fear that he was waking. He soon calmed back into his regular rhythm.

Yeah, I should definitely rest more. While I can.


An orange haze spread over Plegia. So long as the unnatural storm of dust causing the obscuration did not impede his movements or that of his crow friends, Henry could care less about the weather. All he cared about was the towering temple before him - the grand pride of the Grimleal, the Dragon's Table.

A strange lady by the name of Flavia had insisted upon the significance of the structure, and upon the necessity of Henry not being in Plegia in the days to come. Of course, that meant he needed to stay and observe whatever was happening, as he had done. The scent of drying blood wafting in Henry's direction was enough for his imagination to run wild on the subject of the Khans' arrival.

The scent of death grew stronger near the Dragon's Table. Henry's crows had dispersed into the sands of the surrounding desert to scavenge from the numerous corpses they had passed. That concentration of bodies grew the nearer he came to the table.

Flavia and her companion Basilio had long departed the structure. Henry had been certain to stress as such in the interest of preserving himself. He could outmaneuver the Khans with the help of his crows, but Henry suspected he would have more fun in their aftermath than in conflict. The Khans had disappeared with their soldiers into a sandstorm, leaving Henry to sift through their carnage.

Henry was able to spy no Ylissean or Feroxi bodies among the corpses, as he had expected. Instead, he found only the bodies of Plegian Grimleal among the corpses that had not been rendered ash.

As he ventured further into the unwelcoming confines of the Dragon's Table, Henry came across a row of bodies. They had been aligned before the altar central to the main room, their faces angled skyward and no care taken to handle their grievous wounds.

The first body in the line was that of a woman, her dark skin marked numerous times with purple runes that heralded some form of pact with Grima. She wore gratuitously little black clothing, with her silver hair contrasting against the rest of her appearance. Henry recognised her as Aversa, the woman who had fought in the war against Ylisse as a strategist for Gangrel.

Aversa had long disappeared from Plegia after her strategies had failed. Apparently, she had made quite the eventful return. Her death here was expected for Henry; who else but the dead king's right hand would be targeted by a foreign power? He wished he could have seen the renowned dark flier in action, but he would settle for her risen form.

Henry moved to the next body, one of sickly pale skin covered in heavy purple armour. The person's wrists, ankles, and neck were shackled to the floor, with a faint hum notifying Henry that magic was at play in the bindings.

Henry kneeled down next to the body's upper half and brought his head toward their own. His smile never dampened as he tried to place their identity. A flash of red from beneath the risen's helmet met his gaze. The undead jolted and strained against its confinement.

"Nyahaha! I was right - this is going to be fun!" Henry laughed, his head remaining in place as the risen began to groan. He had anticipated finding stragglers in the aftermath of the fighting, and a large number of powerful risen ripe for his examining, but this was beyond his wildest expectations. He rose from his kneel and cast a glance out over the remaining bodies, his smile widening as he went.

The general before him. A dark knight. A bow knight. A swordmaster. A war cleric. Seven more.

Someone had captured each of the legendary twelve deadlords.

"Nyahaha! This is the best!" Henry sang, jumping in excitement as he skipped down the line of bodies. Flavia, Basilio, and their soldiers had exceeded his expectations. They had left him the greatest unintentional gift imaginable - the twelve strongest risen in existence, as well as Plegia's greatest soon-to-be-risen tactician.

"Now, the only question is, what should I do with you…" Henry muttered as he reached the end of the body line. He snapped his fingers and broke into a wider smile. "I know! Why don't you help me out a little bit in battle? That'd be nice, don't ya think?"

Flavia had offered him a position among the Shepherds, after all. He had coveted such standing since the turning point of the war, but now that Flavia had mentioned a conflict with Valm, he was all the more excited to join their ranks. The Shepherds seemed like the kind of people he could always have fun around. As a result, he wanted to show up with a gift.

With a clap of his hands, Henry set about securing the deadlords with magic of his own. Doing so would ensure that they remain under his control, which would allow him to keep them a terror amidst enemies. In theory. Henry had never succeeded in casting such a spell, even on common risen.

Upon further consideration, Henry decided that optimisation of his techniques would be best before he attempted to control a deadlord. So, he sat himself beside the line of bodies, awaiting the revival of more risen. He would soon have a surplus of training dummies. Once the dead began to turn, he may have to go so far as to cull the number of those lining up to volunteer.

Henry's research was by no means a slow process. He had realised within days of monitoring the risen how they came to exist through the reanimation of the living. It had taken him a matter of hours to understand the Grimleal's reeking boxes and how Aversa had utilised them during the war. To tame the deadlords would be not much more difficult a task.

A crow flew into the altar room, some fresh fruit from gods know how far away in its talons. Several more soon followed. Henry couldn't bring himself to abandon his new test subjects in waiting. He resolved to wait a few days before heading to the port Flavia had mentioned.

The deadlords screamed wordlessly as more crows flew into the altar room. Henry's smile continued to grow. This was set to be the best few days of his entire life.


Three full days passed. No risen reanimated from the bodies in and around the Dragon's Table. Henry had taken to pacing around the building as he waited for anything to happen, his characteristic smile sometimes twitching into a venomous frown. Something, anything should have happened by now, yet nothing had.

Henry was growing impatient. Too much time had been wasted waiting for risen to appear; based on his observations, most people would have turned undead in a matter of hours to days. The notion that none in so massive a sample had turned was a statistical improbability at best.

He had already torn apart a few corpses to examine them, thinking that they had been too damaged in their unknown battle to rise, but his autopsies had revealed them all to be in perfect lifeless conditions. There was some other factor in play.

It was during one of these examinations that Henry was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the Dragon's Table. He had snapped his head up with a bright smile, anticipating that a risen had appeared. That smile faded when he was met with a living woman sporting long blonde hair and impressive red armour.

"Henry, I presume?" the woman approached him and bowed, remaining several metres from the deadlords near which he was performing his examinations. "I was told you were here."

"Yep, that's me!" Henry laughed, though the sound was strained with his frustration. "Were you looking for me? People do that sometimes, but it doesn't end well for them!"

"That I was." the woman confirmed, her head remaining low. "You are to leave this place at once. Khan Flavia requested that you go to Port Ferox. You should listen to her."

"Ooh, that sounded threatening! I like threats!" Henry grinned. "Sorry lady, but I've invested too much time in these risen to abandon them. Maybe you'd prefer to come back in a few days? Or, maybe, you want to be escorted away from here?" he said and began to charge dark magic in his hands, more to intimidate her than initiate a battle.

"I don't wish to fight you, Henry." the woman said. "All I must do is deliver that message and ensure you leave here before late tomorrow. I will wait here until I am certain my objective has been met."

"You'll be waiting for a long time." Henry smiled. "You should leave. If not, things may become a little less happy for you, and I'd hate to see that."

"I see. I was told you may be difficult." the woman rose from her bow. She moved a hand to rest on a tome on her hip, though she remained relaxed. "I will not fail to complete my ordinance, even if I must drag you to the border myself."

"Nyahaha! I wasn't expecting to have this much fun!" Henry burst out in laughter. His magic flew free of his hands toward the woman. He had no real desire to kill her, but he also couldn't resist.

Rings of runes appeared around the woman, heralding Henry's preferred ruin magic. The woman drew a powerful bolganone tome and made no effort to dodge his attack. She bore the same confident, imposing air that had disturbed Henry when he had met with Flavia.

Henry's smile twitched into a frown before snapping back into place. The woman before him was proving problematic.

Bars of dark magic erupted out of the rings of runes, slamming into the woman at incredible force. She failed to so much as flinch. Henry's smile again broke into a frown. It remained in place as he tried to understand how she could shrug off so powerful an attack.

"I was told you were among the more powerful spellcasters of the Shepherds. I must say, I am disappointed." the woman sighed and opened her tome. Her armour retained no damaged.

"Oh, so your armour's enchanted, huh? That isn't very fair!" Henry's smile returned.

The woman paused, then bobbed her head in agreement and returned her tome to her side. One of her hands shifted up to her shoulder and began to pry the painted metal plating away. "That much is true. I, too, prefer a level playing field, regardless of how meaningless such a sentiment will prove."

"Nyahaha! Be warned, lady, I don't always play fair! If you want to fight, you may have to face my deadlord servants, too!" Henry bluffed. He would much prefer to avoid conflict, considering the confidence of his opponent.

The woman tilted, then shook her head as she removed her armour, leaving herself in uniform red clothing. "You had best come up with another lie, Henry. The deadlords aren't under your control - they're under mine."

Henry froze for an instant. That revelation was as unexpected as the woman's impromptu arrival. "Oh yeah? Prove it."

"Gladly." nodded the woman. She waved her hand at the line of bodies. The ties in place over the armoured deadlord, Mus, lifted in a wave of light. Mus sprung up from its position on the ground, defying the weight of its armour as its wordless screaming reached a new crescendo. The woman then promptly brought her magic shackles back down on Mus.

"Nyahaha! Neat trick, but any mage can dispel and manifest magic! Watch this!" Henry said. He waved his hand and channeled magic toward the next deadlord, the bow knight Bovis. His frown returned when none of the bindings showed indication of breaking.

"It's okay to fail here, Henry. There's nothing you need to prove. I won't blame you for leaving for the port." the woman said. "I will not kill or pursue you. For now, you cannot hope to defeat me, and should you by some miracle do as such, there are many who will take my place. You must leave here before tomorrow evening."

Henry narrowed his gaze on the woman. If she had been present at the battle that had transpired here, he was glad he'd decided to sit back. "Ha, I can't leave until I've made progress. Who are you? How do you control the risen? Tell me and I may consider leaving."

"My true name is for now to be concealed to you, but you may call me Proteus. It's an alias I was instructed to use should I ever contact one such as you."

"Huh. Cool name." Henry said. "Kinda defeats the purpose of having an alias if you tell me it's fake, though, no? Why use that instead of your actual name?"

"I don't know." the woman not named Proteus admitted. "I would like to tell you my real name, but I was informed that it would be a sensitive matter. I suppose it must have to do with the fact that we may one day be enemies."

"I'll look forward to it." Henry continued to smile. "What about the risen? That's some impressive magic you've got. Is it keeping others from turning, too?"

"Alas, I am not that capable a mage. I've learned from the best, but I have limits where they do not." Not-Proteus said. "The deadlords are constrained, but I do not control them. Only the dead woman, Aversa, knew of the vile incantations necessary to do so. I am confident in the ability of my allies to reverse engineer such magic. As for the bodies here, they fail to become risen due to the annihilation of Grima and the Grimleal, not due to magic."

Henry raised an eyebrow, though his smile refused to fade. "You're trying to tell me you killed Grima? Ha, I'd never have thought you to be so crazy!"

"Not I, but another." Not-Proteus said. "She enchanted my armour, she sent my allies and I here, she's the one who wants the deadlords… and she's strong enough to best he who would become as a god. For now, at least."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Henry asked. "'Cause I'm pretty sure it doesn't! All I took from that is that you aren't any closer than me to controlling the risen."

"That much is true, but I guarantee you that no new risen will appear from this moment in time onward. Now then, since I've answered your questions, will you depart for the port? Or must I trouble myself further?"

"Hm… one more question, and I think I'll be good." Henry said. "My crows claim that a massive army fought the Grimleal here. Were you part of that army?"

"That I am. I would advise you to keep away from our forces, though - our commanders wouldn't take well to interference."

"Okay! Thanks, crazy lady!" Henry laughed. He began to walk toward the building's single exit, his crows flocking to his side "Guess I've got to go to the port now, huh? Tell me if you find out how to control the risen!"

"You are an odd one, Henry. I'm glad we haven't yet had to fight." Not-Proteus said. "If we meet again, and if it should be as allies, I vow to share all that I know, and hope you will do the same. If we meet as enemies… then I hope I have the opportunity to kill you."

"Nyahaha! I hope I get to kill you, too!" Henry cackled. His crows enveloped him as he exited the Dragon's Table. "Goodbye, Not-Proteus!"

"Goodbye, Henry." the woman bowed to him. In a flurry of crows, Henry disappeared.


Late at night, Henry's murder of crows touched down at Port Ferox. At a silent command, they flew out once more in search of the Shepherds. After under a minute of waiting, a group of crows returned to Henry. One landed on his shoulder and cawed its findings, and Henry pat its head in thanks.

Stacks of building materials - slabs of stone and planks of wood - were stacked on the street beneath a massive hole in the side of the inn Henry's crow had designated. Rubble had been swept to the side of those piles, with the charred remains of what had once been an inn room remaining on the building's upper floor. Henry sidestepped and ignored the rubble as he progressed toward the entrance of the inn.

Voices could be heard from within. A woman was crying about something, and though he could not hear them, Henry's crows assured him there were two other people speaking with the woman. Henry entered the inn, leaving his crows to fly free outside.

The woman's wails were silenced as he entered. Henry had no time to process what was happening before the woman who had been crying bolted away from her table and pulled him into a suffocating embrace.

"Father! Oh my gods, father! I didn't think we would find you, and now mother's been talking about cursing me and leaving me on the street, and she keeps insisting that she isn't my mother and that she'll never want to see me again, but now… f-father!"

"Sorry lady, but that's not me!" Henry laughed. Noire's actions failed to throw him off balance, both literally and figuratively. As her embrace froze, her eyes widened in horror, and her face drained of colour, Henry pushed Noire away and advanced further into the inn.

"Gods, she's having a rough few days." lamented a beautiful pink-haired woman. She sighed, shook her head, and turned to her more intimidating companion. "Do you think she's going to catch a break anytime soon?"

The loud caw of a crow from behind one of the inn's windows informed Henry that the woman before him was none other than the renowned dancer Olivia. Henry was amazed that his crows knew such a thing, and displeased that they had yet to obey his order to disperse. He would be certain to resolve their eavesdropping tendencies later.

"She's yet to drop her fanatical tale of time travel. I see no reason as to why she would be deserving of relief." said the intimidating man next to Olivia. One of Henry's crows cawed that his name was Lon'qu, and that he was another Shepherd. Lon'qu had narrowed his gaze on Henry as the sorcerer had entered the building, but Henry found no reason to fault the man's scrutiny.

"I know it's far-fetched, but it's better to believe her than not, right?" Olivia asked. "Kjelle was a time traveller, too, and Noire claims to know her. We should trust her."

"You revealed to Noire the entirety of Kjelle's questionable identity before we could extract any-" Lon'qu began to say, then cut himself off when Henry drew too close. "This is a sensitive matter. It wouldn't do to have vagrants interrupt us."

"A vagrant? Me? You're too kind!" Henry laughed. He raised a single finger in the air as he corrected the Shepherd. "My name is Henry. I'm a dark mage from Plegia. Also, I'm here to join the Shepherds!"

"Father…" Noire whimpered. "I knew you wouldn't remember me, and I thought that forgetting some of it would be for the best, so why is this so difficult? Why does it hurt to see you introduce yourself to your own friends?"

Both Lon'qu and Olivia stared at Henry for a long, silent moment. Then, Olivia tilted her head and gave a brief hum.

"Noire did say that her father's name was Henry before this Henry introduced himself." she mused.

Lon'qu gave an aggravated sigh in response. "As if that proves such an absurd claim? Hmph. No matter. We can discuss her further after we finish dealing with this." he said, and gestured toward Henry.

"Hello!" Henry greeted them both again in response. "A scary lady by the name of Flavia told me to come here and join you guys! She said there was gonna be a big war and lots of killing!"

"You were sent here by Khan Flavia?" Olivia took a moment to process his statement. "I haven't heard anything from her since she disappeared and left Robin that note. Is she well?"

"Don't know! She might be dead!" Henry smiled. "There was a big battle at the Dragon's Table, and my crows weren't able to find her and Basilio afterward. They were probably blending in with the massive army that was leaving the place. That army seems nice, too! One of their soldiers and I are gonna try to kill each other!"

"Why on earth did Flavia go out of her way to recruit you?" Lon'qu asked, his voice conveying his disdain.

"He's a powerful sorcerer - the best in Plegia." Noire spoke up through choking breaths. "Please, let him join. You won't regret it, and… and I can't bear to lose him again."

Olivia watched Noire break into another bout of sobs before turning her head toward Henry. "Okay. We won't have the proper paperwork until Chrom or Robin get here, but nobody really cares about that stuff anyway. We're glad to have you."

"Yay! When does the killing start?" Henry asked with his enthusiasm retained in full, earning another disdainful groan from Lon'qu. Olivia's smile twitched into a frown before reappearing with far less certainty.

"What was that about an army?" Lon'qu asked, biting through his discontent in having to deal with the eccentric sorcerer.

"Oh yeah, a military outfit like you would care about that, huh?" Henry smiled. "My crows saw them leaving the Dragon's Table - a couple thousand people, give or take. Most on mounts. Some on foot, but those later took to flying with wyvern riders. They killed a lot of people, too - I'm willing to bet they erased the entirety of the Grimleal! Well, save for the less devout, like myself. Nyahaha, isn't that lovely?"

Olivia's eyes widened at the news. Lon'qu remained unchanged in his skepticism. "Well, it looks like you were right about Flavia wanting to target the Grimleal hierarchs." Olivia muttered to Lon'qu.

"Yes, but for her to initiate a genocide? That's absurd." Lon'qu said. "Henry. What proof do you have that any such event has taken place, beyond your word?"

"Nothing!" Henry said gleefully. "If you want, we can swing by the Dragon's Table and you can see the bodies for yourself. There's a lot of them, and they aren't turning into risen!"

"All people become risen in death. Not a person on this planet could be so ignorant as to have overlooked such a simple truth." Lon'qu said. "To state that the Grimleal were eliminated without becoming risen is ridiculous."

"I don't know how, but their killers stopped them from turning." Henry clarified with his same smile. "The lady I met said that someone had killed Grima, but that's what's preposterous. Gods can't die! Especially not an undead one! She was a strong mage, though - she was keeping the twelve deadlords under confinement!"

Noire took in a sharp breath that halted her sobs. "About that… Grima definitely isn't dead, as long as Robin-" she caught herself, remembering her half hearted promise to Kjelle. The absurdity of her friend's faith in Robin was almost enough for Noire to reveal everything in that moment.

"Grima isn't dead." she concluded anyway. She was not about to defy her friend's trust. "The reason I came here, why I had to find my family and ensure that they were okay, was because the risen changed. They somehow knew what I… what I had… what happened to…" her voice fell apart, her composure reducing once more to bouts of sobbing. "Father…!"

"Nyaha, she's a mess!" Henry remarked before turning back to Lon'qu and Olivia. "So, what do I have to do to be a Shepherd? Train? Kill people? Experiment? I'm good with all of the above!"

"We haven't yet properly addressed the fact that there's a military force engaging Plegia." Lon'qu said. "We have no verification that a genocide has occurred, but we have reason to believe that Khan Flavia held interest in eliminating members of Plegian authority. Can you verify that the forces she used were Feroxi? Were there any Ylisseans among them?"

"Nope! Not a Feroxi, Ylissean, or Plegian in sight!" Henry affirmed, causing Lon'qu's gaze to narrow on him further. "As a matter of fact, my crows had no idea where any of the soldiers were from! That means they weren't from this continent, at the very least. Maybe they're Valmese? Magvellian? Ooh, maybe they travelled here from another dimension!"

"There's no way Flavia would cooperate with a Valmese invasion, we still don't know where Magvel is in the world in relation to us, and that last option is less believable than time travel." Olivia said. "Though, you did mention that Valm's new tactician uses some crafty tactics." she muttered, tilting her head toward Lon'qu.

"We have no verification that Aversa serves Valm." Lon'qu reminded her. "This is all such a mess. Once Chrom and Robin return, we'll have to-"

"Aversa? She's dead, too!" Henry piped up, cutting Lon'qu off. Noire's sobbing stopped once more as she snapped her head up to stare at Henry.

"Explain yourself." ordered Lon'qu.

"The people with Flavia killed her! They lined her corpse up next to the twelve deadlords. Something was going to happen today, and they were gonna try to control the deadlords. That'd be quite an achievement, if you ask me!"

"I didn't." Lon'qu said, his tone remaining cold as he sighed in frustration. "No more tales of time travel, other dimensions, and fairytale deadlords. Understood?"

Henry found that he both liked and disliked the man at the same time. That confusing feeling made him all the more likeable. "Nyaha, you got it! I'll stick to talking about the real deadlords!"

Lon'qu groaned, but accepted the response nonetheless. "Am I understood?" he reiterated, this time turning to Noire.

"I…!" Noire began, ready to defend what she knew to be truth before she withered under Lon'qu's gaze. "Yes. Understood."

"Good." Lon'qu closed his eyes and took a long moment to gather his thoughts. He then focused his attention on Henry. "These crows of yours, you control them somehow, yes? Can they scout for the military regiment you observed and carry messages? We can't have them interfering with the missions Robin set out for the Shepherds, or acting against us in the war to come."

"Yay! There's going to be a war!"

"Can they scout and carry messages to Ylisse?" Lon'qu restated, this time with far more force behind his words.

"Sure thing! You'll owe them a lot of treats, though!" Henry smiled. He turned to the windows where his crows continued to eavesdrop.

"Caw-caw! Caw! Caw, caw-caw!" Henry said to the birds. Both Olivia and Lon'qu raised their eyebrows in concerned skepticism. Neither could believe that Flavia had recommended such a person for the Shepherds, or that they themselves had been willing to share sensitive information in his presence.

"Caw!" replied one of the crows.

"What? What do you mean you can't? Caw caw caw!"

"Caw, caw-caw!"

"Yes, but I'm telling you to leave! That means you should leave! Caw!"

The stairway to the inn's second level creaked. Tharja emerged from the room she had acquired after the destruction of her first, and made her way downstairs.

Noire's expression lit up at the sight of the sorceress, but soon succumbed once again to sadness. Her parents were no longer her family. Her life would never be as she had desired. The mighty Aversa had been felled by some unknown force. Everything was going horribly. She had no idea what to do but cry.

"Those crows have begun to invade the damaged room, and are scavenging the remains of my experiments." Tharja informed Lon'qu and Olivia as she arrived on the main floor. "If one of you doesn't take care of them, I will, and you won't be happy with- oh gods, why is this freak show here?"

"Nyahaha! Nice to meet you, too!" Henry waved to Tharja before returning to his rebellious crows. "Come on, I'll be fine here! Do as the scary guy says! Caw, caw!"

"You know who he is?" Olivia asked Tharja, who had begun to shake her head in derision as she observed Henry.

"Everyone in Plegia has heard of him." Tharja confirmed. "A white haired sorcerer who commanded a ruthless regiment of the Plegian military, before it was absolved in the aftermath of Emmeryn's sacrifice. Soldiers were often sent to him as punishment for misconduct rather than necessity. His magic also destroyed one of Plegia's most prominent private mage academies when he was enrolled there as a child. Why the hell is he here?"

"According to his word, Flavia wished for him to be a Shepherd." Olivia informed her.

Tharja stared at Henry as he communicated with his crows, his legendary status doing nothing to help his image. Then, she turned to Noire, who failed to conceal her sobs over the abrupt realisation that her family was gone.

"In hindsight, I should've stayed in Ylisstol." Tharja sneered, and made to return to her room.

"How would it be dangerous for both of us? You'll be flying around Ylisse, and I'll be surrounded by Shepherds! That's perfectly safe! Caw-caw!" Henry continued to argue with his crows through the inn windows, growing frustrated as they refused his requests.

"Caw!"

Henry's expression turned to stone as he stared at one of his crows, expecting them to burst out with another caw and tell him they were joking. No such caw sounded. "What? What do you mean they're dead? They flew me out here, I sent them out to scout and roam half an hour ago! How could they be dead? Caw, caw!"

"Caw!"

"You don't know? How do you not know? Didn't you see anything? Caw!"

"Caw!"

Henry's pained expression dissolved into relief. "Oh, it's a feral animal? Why didn't you say so? I'll go clear things up with it, and if it did hurt any of you, I'll be sure to put it in its place!"

He began to move toward the exit, leaving Olivia and Lon'qu to watch him in confusion. The crows began a cacophonous collective caw, drowning out all ambient noise remaining in the inn and causing Henry to frown once more.

"I won't be in danger! Animals love me!" Henry reassured the birds, but their noise refused to quiet.

"You should listen to your crows, fath- uh, Henry." Noire spoke up. "You didn't have them in my time - they followed you everywhere, and most died before you. Maybe, if they were still around, your crows would've warned you of what was to come…"

"I'm still amazed that he can communicate with birds." Olivia said, though both hers and Lon'qu's expressions remained rooted in doubt.

"Caw!"

"What, now you're saying that it's not an animal? What does that mean?" Henry asked one of his crows that managed to rise above the clamour of its fellows. "If it's an animal, I'll talk to it. If it's not, I'll kill it. Simple as that."

He opened the door to the inn and moved to step outside, but was battered inward by a horde of crows that pushed him to the ground in their frantic screeching. A horde of crows flew and claw their way into the inn, soaring toward any perch they could find, be it on tables and chairs or on the heads and shoulders of the Shepherds within. Olivia and Lon'qu instinctively raised their arms to protect their heads, on accident giving the crows more of a surface on which they could perch. Noire was unmoved by their frantic actions.

"Hey, what are you doing!? That hurt!" Henry shouted to his crows.

Soon, all of the crows gathered outside were present within the inn. More appeared outside the glass windows, called by the loud screeching of their fellows. As crows continued to trickle into the building, their caws hastening as those within grew silent, a group that was sat atop Henry's body flew up and began to ram themselves into the open door, slamming it shut despite the crows remaining outside.

Another distinct caw sounded within the inn, and every bird fell unnervingly silent. Lon'qu and Olivia's bodies cascaded with feathers as a few birds continued to nestle against their arms and head. Lon'qu jerked his arms to dispel them while Olivia remained still. The crows made no noise beyond the flapping of their wings as they settled on what little space remained available. Some pigeons, songbirds, and seagulls had entered the inn in addition to the crows. More were appearing from the upper level. Their utter silence put Lon'qu on edge, and he began to reach for the sword he always kept at his side.

The crows outside continued to screech, their noise growing louder to compensate for the silence within the inn. Lon'qu silently drew his sword. From the corner of his eye, he could see Noire shaking as she tried to not disturb the birds atop her head. Olivia was staring petrified at the windows through which the exterior crows could be seen. Henry had begun to rise, and Tharja could be heard cursing the crows from the remains of her room.

"What have you done, sorcerer?" Lon'qu asked Henry. A group of crows flew toward his mouth and attempted to smother the noise, but he swatted them away with his free hand.

"I don't know! They've never disobeyed-" Henry began to reply, then froze, his gaze locked on the same windows as Olivia's.

Lon'qu shifted his attention toward the windows. His grip on his sword tightened. Blood and feathers had splattered against the panes of glass.

The crows outside the inn continued to shriek as they flew toward the next window, their wings slamming into the glass as desperation overtook them. Then, with a final shriek louder than any other, they fell horrendously silent. Four unnatural blades gouged four horizontal grooves into the window at a blinding speed, and then that window too was coated in an impenetrable layer of blood and feathers.

Henry gawked at the sight. "What the… what the hell!? It's killing my friends!" he shouted, and moved to open the door to the inn, his hands flying to his tomes. His crows pushed him back and flew toward his mouth, forcing him to be silent.

"That… that didn't seem human." Olivia said, her gaze locked on the bloodied windows.

Lon'qu cast his gaze over his companions as he assessed their situation. Olivia had no weapon on her. Henry had tomes at hand. Noire had never left the first floor of the inn, meaning that her bow had to be nearby. Tharja was upstairs. Virion and Anna's locations were unknown. Lon'qu knew that he had to act.

"You, Noire. Find your bow and prepare for combat." he ordered the woman in question, his voice held low to avoid the interruption of the crows. "Henry, get a tome and do the same. Olivia, alert Tharja, get a weapon from our room, and join us as soon as you're able. This threat must be addressed."

"Oh, it's gonna be addressed!" Henry grinned before anyone else could reply. The sorcerer pointed his hand at the door to the inn, trying to prepare magic as his crows scurried to avoid his spell.

Noire nodded to Lon'qu, then picked her way through the crows to access the inn's kitchen. She emerged an instant later with her bow and quiver. Olivia opened her mouth to protest Lon'qu's ordinance, but then whispered for him to be safe and ran for the building's upper floor.

Lon'qu and Noire braced for Henry's spell, their weapons clutched in their grip to avoid losing them to the horde of agitated crows. Henry leveled his hand with the door. Nothing happened.

"What? What is this? Why can't I-?" Henry questioned as no crows dared to silence him. He retracted his hand and thrust it toward the door once more, but again, nothing happened. On his next attempt, a massive stream of fire erupted from his hand and annihilated the door and surrounding wall, exploding open a scorching hole laden with embers.

"Why the hell couldn't I…!?" Henry shouted to himself in agitation. "I've never failed a cast before! I was using dark magic earlier today! Why wouldn't it work!?" With a frustrated grunt, Henry pushed through the damage he had caused and into the open night.

"Follow him!" Lon'qu shouted to Noire, and they both dashed toward the wall of ashes and smoke that obscured their view. As they pressed forward, Henry was launched back into the inn, forcing them to grind to a preemptive halt. Specks of blood stained the ground over which he had flown.

Noire took in a sharp gasp and dashed to Henry's side. Lon'qu cursed and took up a defensive stance within the wall of smoke, waiting for something to emerge through the clutter of debris before him.

"Olivia! Finally!" Tharja's voice sounded, carrying through the street from the gaping holes opened on the inn's second floor. "Take care of these crows before I turn them into ingredients!"

The air around Lon'qu grew silent. The sounds of crows flapping upstairs to silence Tharja failed to break the tense atmosphere. Silence then gave way to a distinct sighing of muscles, one similar to how the warhorses of Ylisse would tense before a charge. Then, a deafening shudder shook the ground, and whatever had tensed jolted in some unknowable direction.

Lon'qu brought his sword up to his chest, defending himself from an attack that never arrived. The wall of the inn above where he stood was smashed by something heavy. Debris showered down on his head. Two more crashes sounded in short order, each a short distance higher than the last. Lon'qu sprinted outside, no longer caring to wait for the enemy beyond his sight, but instead hoping to confront the opponent.

A torrent of crows screeched and flew free of the hole on the inn's upper floor, obscuring a large, hunched, lean form as it slipped into the damaged room. Lon'qu caught a glance of the being's shadow before spinning in place and dashing back into the inn, making his way for the stairway to the second floor.

"Get to the upper floor, now!" Lon'qu barked to Noire and Henry as he passed them, not daring to slow his pace.

Noire refused to respond. Her hands remained in place over Henry's chest, stemming the flow of blood from a deep set of wounds. Henry attempted to stand and follow Lon'qu, but was brought back to the floor by a series of sharp pains. Lon'qu pressed onward without their aid. He pushed up the stairs to the upper floor multiple steps at a time, ignoring the crows that flew out of his path. No noise could be heard beyond the frantic calls of the birds Henry had summoned.

Tharja stood outside the open door to her new room, a horde of crows sitting on the floor about her feet. She scowled at both them and Lon'qu.

"Your little lover says we need weapons. If it isn't to get rid of the crows, I swear I'll-" Tharja began to say, but was cut off when the door to the room opposite hers began to shake and crack. Her frown turned toward it and grew concerned when the harsh noises refused to fade.

"I take it this is why I needed a weapon?" Tharja asked Lon'qu, her tone uninterested. Lon'qu gave no reply beyond shifting his stance for imminent combat. The beating against the weakened door continued.

Olivia popped out of the undamaged room beside Tharja, where she and Lon'qu had made their residence, a sword in her hand. Without hesitating, she took up a stance beside Lon'qu, shuddering whenever their unknown opponent threw itself against the closed door.

"Ugh, I've had enough of this." Tharja groaned before raising her hand toward the offending door. "Whoever thinks they can impede my work and target my allies is-" she began before cutting herself off, blinking as she raised her hand to her face and flexed it in concern. "What? Why can't I-?"

The bashing against the damaged door intensified at the sound of her voice. Something struck the door once, rattling the knob and shaking the frame, then again and again. An inhuman cry sounded within and the pattern of attack changed, shifting toward long, interchanged swipes against the centre of the blockade.

Another short cry heralded a more powerful strike. Wood splintered into the hall as a long claw emerged through a hole in the door, with several small bulging punctures appearing in a crescent around that point. The claw retracted away from the door before more long and meticulous strikes slammed into the surface of the wood.

Lon'qu locked his gaze on the door and gestured toward the flight of stairs down the hall. His strategy of charging whatever sat beyond the door had to be reconsidered, and the main floor of the inn would give them the space to do exactly that. The being was thankfully proving incapable of bypassing something as simple as a locked, damaged door.

Olivia complied with Lon'qu's silent direction and, after a moment more of staring at the door, Tharja followed suit. Lon'qu followed after them, his gaze remaining on the door to ensure his preparation should it be knocked down.

As soon as Lon'qu set foot on the lower floor, he turned to address Olivia and Tharja. Olivia was knelt at Henry's side, helping Noire tend to his wounds, while Tharja stood in the centre of the room, her arms crossed.

"I don't know what that thing is, but we can try to-" Lon'qu began to speak, only to be cut off.

"Augh! Ah-ah-aauugh!" a harsh scream sounded a great distance from the inn, one that tore at the lungs and throat of the screamer. A scream born of ungodly pain.

All colour drained from the faces of Tharja, Lon'qu, and Olivia. The latter two shared a horrified glance, their eyes widening as they realised they had both recognised the voice.

"Was… was that Stahl!?" Olivia voiced their collective concern, her voice shaking.

"I don't… he shouldn't be here! Why would he be in Ferox!?" Lon'qu replied, though his voice bore an uncharacteristic tremor.

"Haugh! Augh!" the screaming continued to echo throughout the city, reaching to and reverberating within the inn.

Lon'qu heard the same springboard jump of heavy muscles, and he knew that the being on the upper floor had leapt away. He ran outside to follow it, with Olivia and Tharja doing the same despite their senses of self-preservation.

The being scurried over rooftops, kicking shingles to the streets below as it grappled with overhangs. Lon'qu pursued this trail of damage through the city, only catching glances of the hunched form a select few times. His sword remained tight in his grip. He no longer held doubts that his foe was inhuman.

"It's headed for the screaming - for Stahl!" Olivia shouted as she pushed Lon'qu into speeding up. "We need to reach him before it can!"

Together, the three Shepherds sprinted through the silent streets of Port Ferox. Few people were outside, giving the pained screams sourced beyond the city's limits adequate space to be heard by all.

They ground to a halt at the edge of the city. The screaming continued at a greater distance than before as the tracks of their foe shifted into clumps of thrown dirt. Lon'qu set about following the tracks as Tharja and Olivia ignored them to move in the direction of the weeping screams.

"Stop!" a voice cried out from behind them, forcing them to a halt once again. Olivia spun around to see Anna running up to them. Tharja and Lon'qu held their attention on the direction of the screams.

"Anna? What are you doing here?" Olivia asked. She was as surprised to see the new Shepherd as she was thankful that she was unharmed.

"You can't fight that thing! It's already entered its second phase!" Anna said as she caught up to Olivia.

"Second phase? What does that…? Do you know what this is, Anna?" Olivia asked.

"I've been helping people track and try to kill it for days." Anna explained as though it was obvious, though the expression of confusion she received reinforced the contrary. "Did you not notice that? I've been supplying weapons, doling out information, setting up hunts… I've been making some sweet money off of it. Turns out I'm an amazing merchant if my mind is focused on something else. Weird, huh?"

"That screaming-" Tharja said, stopping to wince when the shout in question sounded once more. "That's Stahl - a Shepherd. It would be beyond irresponsible to abandon him to whatever that thing is."

"Really? Your friend's been screaming like that since day one?" Anna asked in surprise, her words again being met with confusion. "Did you not notice that, either? What have you been doing these past few days?"

Olivia blushed and averted her gaze, as did Lon'qu. Tharja raised an eyebrow at them, as did Anna, though neither bothered to press further.

"Anyway." Anna spoke up once again. "As I said, this thing - beast - hunts in phases. In the first, it attacks someone, then the screams call it away. That's the start of phase two. As far as I can tell, the screaming is to stop the beast - it lures it further and further away, and whenever there's been someone foolhardy enough to draw the beast back, the screaming gets… agitated. It doesn't like that the thing gets pulled away."

"How do you know any of this?" Lon'qu asked as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Conjecture, mostly." Anna shrugged. "The first attack was a little after I arrived. A caravan struck on a road through the forest east of here. The horses spooked and ran, and the driver caught sight of something chasing after them. Then the driver heard screaming. The next day, when Noire arrived, a hunter found the horses' bodies, mutilated. Something had dragged them south - the direction the screams sounded from, as they do now."

"It's following the screams. It leapt for Tharja after it heard her speaking, the crows were keeping us silent, and it followed the panicked horses." Lon'qu said, his train of thought having long ago arrived. "It's navigating by sound. What manner of predator does such a thing?"

"Bats." Olivia suggested, realising afterward how such an eventuality was improbable. "Er, you know, like… a giant one, or something. They can be pretty spooky."

"It's not a bat." Anna shot the idea down as soon as she could be bothered. "Four legs. A quadruped. It's strong, fast, quiet, and a lot more. Trust me, if that screaming is your friend - which I doubt - they're doing you a massive favour. Fighting it now would be a death wish."

"In other words, we're to do nothing, and this was a waste of time." Tharja said, scowling as she turned back toward the port city. "Marvelous. If that thing does show up again, though, I won't hesitate to tear it apart."

"Aw, she's scared! That's kinda cute!" Anna cooed, and Tharja turned her coldest glare on the merchant.

"We can't do nothing!" Olivia said. "Someone's screaming. That can't be a good thing! How do we know they aren't in need of help? How do we know that Stahl, or anyone else, isn't somehow already here and in danger?"

"Whoever's screaming is in control of that thing. They don't fear it. They need no help." Anna argued. Olivia frowned all the same.

"What about how it got so far into the city? The inn is close to the outskirts, yes, but you made it sound as though it lives in the forest." Lon'qu said.

"Henry's crows." Tharja said before Anna had the chance to form an answer. "Henry flew here, no? He was known to do that in Plegia. You heard as well as I did how loud those birds can be."

"That thing's still a danger. We can't leave it to hurt more people." Olivia said.

"I promise, I'm this close to a breakthrough." Anna said, holding her fingers a short distance apart to demonstrate her claim. "Once I've done that, this place will be as safe as usual! No harm to Shepherds, nature, or civilians!"

"That thing didn't seem natural…" Olivia muttered, her gaze lingering on the forest outside the city.

"Eh, semantics don't matter." Anna shrugged. "What matters is that there's a better way to go about this than hunting it down. The thing's a natural predator; fighting it on its terms is tantamount to stupidity, if not suicide."

"We're done here." Tharja announced, and turned her back once more on the other three Shepherds. "There's a mess to clean up at the inn, and I need to check on some matters regarding my magic. We have no reason to waste time here chasing the ghost of a voice. Not to mention that we still don't know the location of Virion…"

"Are you wanting to go check up on him?" Anna asked with an aggravating lilt to her voice. Her tone being mired in illicit suggestion gave Tharja reason to pause and turn yet another glare on the woman.

"Don't move." Lon'qu commanded, his hand never having strayed from the hilt of his sword. His gaze remained locked on the forest.

"Enough of these idiotic games! I was foolish to chase after this thing for so great a distance. For now, I'll be returning to my room at the inn." Tharja said.

"Virion was watching the sunset by the docks, last my information network heard. In case you want to find him." Anna said, her tone remaining suggestive and therefore aggravating.

"I said not to move!" Lon'qu hissed, his voice far quieter than any other. He brought his sword up to his chest and relaxed into a combat stance. His actions caused Anna and Tharja to follow his gaze back to the forest.

Two tiny points of red glinted in the darkness of the tree canopy. Lon'qu and Olivia had both frozen in their lock on the two points, though Anna remained unaffected. Tharja, too, stared at the lights for a short moment before scoffing and raising her hand, her palm pointed to the being lurking in the dark.

"This is no time to have to bother with risen." she said through another scoff. "I'll handle this one, then you lot can bother with any more that dare to appear. They wouldn't be worth my time."

Her hand remained locked in position with her palm facing toward the set of glowing red eyes. No magic manifested. Tharja cursed and swapped from dark magic to a fire spell.

"That isn't… that's…" Olivia stammered, her gaze never wavering from the set of eyes. "I-It's the giant bat!" she shouted.

At the raise in her voice, the eyes lurched forward, and a shadowed being darted forth from the tree line. Tharja fired off her magic, casting a stream of flames toward the beast. The light from her spell illuminated the hunched form of a large animal, its dark fur matted and in most areas burned. Its eyes drooped as melted skin hung down from its forehead. The beast's jaw and nose were little more than a charred, pulpous mess.

Before Tharja's flames could connect, the being was screeching and clawing backwards. It managed to turn and scurry away into the forest once more without contacting the fire, with the occasional shake of distant trees indicating that it would be making no swift return.

Anna's face lit up as she watched the being run in desperation. "Fire! That's it! That's what we need! Tharja, thank you so much for doing this! I promise to pay you back for the info you've given me!"

"Don't mention it." Tharja said without a thought, her focus remaining on her own hand. She then tore her gaze away and began walking back to the city. "If you need me, handle whatever trouble you've caused yourself. I have better things to do tonight."

"Eh, I wouldn't call Virion better than this." Anna muttered. She then had to avoid a haphazard fireball that was Tharja's response.

"That thing is gone?" Olivia asked no one, having to confirm the fact for herself. "Gods, what was it? I've never heard of a risen like that before. Or a living being, for that matter."

"All that matters is that we know how to get rid of it." Anna shrugged.

"By utilising fire? Does such a method not pose significant risk?" Lon'qu spoke up. "The amount of torches or mages needed to keep it out of the entire city would be immense. It'll go somewhere else if it's driven away from here. And what if there were to be, by some miracle of nature itself, rain?"

"Don't worry! Things are gonna be fine, so long as the great Anna is here!" Anna smiled. "Come on, let's get back to the inn. I've got some materials to invest in, and though that risen's unlikely to return, it'd be best if you two don't wait around to find out."

Olivia remained rooted in place, her gaze locked on the trail of embers left by Tharja's magic. "Was that really a risen? I've never seen anything like it before… the way it behaved was so un-risen-y."

"Noire did mention that they had changed." Lon'qu said. "Perhaps we'd be best off asking her what she knows, before we make any decisions of our own."

He placed his hand on Olivia's shoulder and, after a long moment of silence, Olivia nodded. The two began making their way back to the inn. Anna followed behind them, her mind swimming with ideas for how she could dispel the new risen while ensuring that her coffers were stocked.


True to Anna's word, Tharja was able to locate Virion at the docks that composed much of Port Ferox's west side. When she found him, the sniper was laying on one of the piers, his arms behind his head and a pleasant smile on his face. He seemed carefree. That made Tharja uncomfortable.

"Virion." Tharja said, broaching her presence as she neared the Shepherd.

Virion popped his head up, a quizzical expression on his face at her unexpected appearance. He made no attempt to greet or welcome Tharja.

"You missed quite an ordeal." Tharja said, stopping at his side to speak.

"I presume it had to do with that ungodsly cacophony of crows?" Virion asked.

"A new Shepherd has been added to our ranks, provided that he yet lives. A powerful risen has also appeared nearby, though I trust that someone else can be bothered to handle it." Tharja informed him.

"Ah, the risen! The wondrous spawn of demise itself!" Virion sang. "Were they not such frightening creatures, I may be inclined to call them a gift from the gods!"

Tharja frowned, his words proving as disturbing as when he had first begun his little onslaught of hopelessness. She hated to see him despair.

"I was worried, you know." she said. "About you. I thought that you might've been hurt. I can see now that my worry was misplaced."

"The conqueror's arrival grows nearer every day. He is more powerful than any of us could hope to be. Worry, as with my fear, is deserved."

"This conqueror is human. He can be overcome." Tharja said, and Virion subdued a laugh. "We'll succeed where others haven't. Our own strength, the bonds between us that Chrom never shuts up about, Robin's strategies… they'll outmatch anything Walhart can throw at us."

"You have no idea how I wish for that to be true." Virion said with a wry shake of his head. I've borne witness to the conqueror's might. You rely upon speculation. He is a terror. He will destroy more than you anticipate. I wouldn't be surprised if Ylisse was already on its path to destruction."

"You're a fool, Virion. A coward who's given up hope. Perhaps that's why you failed to best Walhart in the past."

Virion laughed. The sound was genuine. "Another thing I wish to be true! Alas, my failure was due to my own inferiority. Rest assured, I shall try with all my might to eliminate Walhart, but I doubt my chances of success."

"Will you stop with this despairing nonsense yet?" Tharja asked, her frown nearing its maximum intensity. "It's getting you nowhere. It won't help."

"Tharja… come, watch the stars with me." Virion said as he patted the dock to his side.

"Get back to the inn, Virion. More importantly, get over yourself and start preparing for the fights to come. If your word is anything to go by, this won't be easy, so you're not going to be allowed to drag others down into your mess of hopelessness."

Tharja waited in place to see if Virion would move. The sniper remained still, his gaze never wavering from the sky.

"I've enjoyed watching the sunset today." Virion said, breaking the silence he had himself created. "I know that Walhart will claim victory, but I cannot ignore the beauty in this world. I don't want to give up on it. Walhart, though… Walhart won't give time to appreciate beauty. He'll crush every piece of it beneath his boot and claim the act as righteous. He's a monster."

"Fight for that beauty, then. For something more than disallowing conquest." Tharja said, pleased to have made progress on Virion's condition.

Virion sighed and closed his eyes for a long moment. He tapped the space next to him once more. "Please. Sit with me."

Tharja narrowed her gaze, skeptical of whether or not Virion was attempting to make progress on his hopelessness. She soon found that she did not entirely care and sat next to him anyway. She turned her gaze to the sky to match Virion's, waiting for him to say something more.

"You know, perhaps there is-" Virion began to say before cutting himself off and pointing toward the western sky. "Ah! A shooting star! Fortune does smile upon us!"

Tharja followed his indication and saw a shooting star tracing a uniform path through the sky. "So there is. Hm. Are shooting stars always so large? I'd thought them to be small streaks of light, though I suppose I've never seen any."

"As with much of nature, shooting stars may take whatever form is most beautiful to behold." Virion said. "Mayhap the gods themselves have decided to make this star a thousand times more splendid, to remind us of the hope in this world."

At that, Virion rotated to face Tharja, a small smile devoid of despair on his face. "There exists much beauty in this world, as I'm certain you are well aware. I may have lost my way, and for that I sincerely apologise, but I assure you that I can now see how that beauty must be protected. I vow to protect beauty at any cost, be it even in the face of the conqueror's might. Would you be so gracious as to accept my promise, and to forgive my transgressions?"

Tharja scowled to hide an unwanted blush and rose from the dock. "Sure, you're forgiven and accepted. Now get back to the inn so I can stop wasting time away from my experiments."

Virion's smile flickered into a frown as he scrambled to a stand and followed Tharja. "Er, that's not how I pictured… ah, pay me no mind! This is as much as I could ask for."

His smile returned as they made their way back to the inn, Tharja was beyond pleased that he had emerged from his self-imposed prison of despair, though she would never outright state such a thing. All she could do was revel in her own contentedness.

She remained so enraptured in her happiness, and Virion in following her back to the inn, that they failed to see their shooting star freeze in place above the sky of northern Ferox. They failed to see it swell in near unbridled power, its hues of green growing more intense than any star before calming, and they failed to see it erupt at speed toward the west from where it had arrived.


Ylisstol was a bustling city, betraying the quiet that had permitted Robin and Kjelle near unopposed entry to the castle the day before. Robin had awoken for the second time at midday and had been forced to make a difficult decision in waking Kjelle, though that potentially explosive matter had been handled with little more than a small amount of awkward interaction between both parties.

Kjelle, eager to conceal that she had awoken some time before Robin, had proposed plans for lunch. Robin then, mimicking her state, accepted. They now waited in the outdoor seating of a restaurant Robin had claimed to be exquisite. Kjelle had paid little attention to the matter; she had been far too focused on obscuring her sleep schedule.

"I don't think I've seen this many people in one place before." Kjelle eventually said to Robin. The grandmaster had remained silent since leaving the castle. Even the servers at the restaurant who had recognised and seated him without a word. Kjelle could tell that Robin was in no way happy.

"Mm. Ylisstol has the highest population of any single location on the continent. It beats out the Plegian capital by a few hundred thousand." said Robin. "It's a grand place, so much so that it boggles the mind. I'm sorry you didn't get to see as such in your time."

Kjelle cast a wary glance over her shoulder, away from the city's streets and toward the servers and patrons that were directing curious glances toward their table. "You seem popular here. It'd be best not to talk too openly about sensitive topics."

"They're surprised I'm not with the other Shepherds, nothing more." Robin dismissed her concern.

Kjelle's gaze lingered on the people monitoring her and Robin before she returned to watching the people of Ylisstol. She was fascinated by how people lived without an apocalypse looming over their heads, though she had yet to witness anything remarkable. Humanity was a surprisingly reliable constant.

"I really am sorry about that, you know. About your time." Robin said. "I know that, in some way, I was involved with its demise. I don't know how to solve that, either, beyond-"

"That's all the more reason to fight like hell against fate and find another way, then." Kjelle cut him off, not wanting him to finish what she knew would be a gruesome statement. She turned away from the street and toward Robin, facing him directly over their table. "We should stop people watching. Thinking about their lives… that's not good for you. There's got to be something better for us to do."

Robin sighed and turned from the street to face her. "I'm sorry, Kjelle. I know you're trying to help, but you can't. That's not an insult; it's simply not an option."

"I've told you about the kinds of things I've done with my friends, and what happened to my father. There's a lot more that happened in Ylisstol, too, especially on the day I left for this time." Kjelle said in indignation. "I know you're not insulting me, but there's no way I can't see helping you as a challenge to be overcome. If there's anyone who knows what to do and how to help, it'll be me! I understand hardship better than anyone!"

She knew she sounded certain. That was what she had intended. She was not. All Kjelle knew was that anyone else in the world would be more capable than her in dealing with what had occurred, but she refused to leave Robin in the path of potential harm.

"Knock yourself out." Robin sighed and sagged into his seat before straightening his posture. "I'm trying to fix things, but it's difficult. There's a lot that needs to be done, and I don't have any real idea of where to start. It feels like I'd be better off doing nothing."

"Pick anything and start there, then. It's not like you won't have fixed everything by the end." Kjelle tried to encourage him and provide guidance, though she had no idea if her efforts were successful.

"I suppose that's as good as anything else." Robin said, giving Kjelle a brief spark of hope. That spark was snuffed out with the knowledge that something so serious would not be so easily corrected.

"Hey, why don't we do something after this?" Kjelle suggested to push their conversation along, and to keep them both from their inevitable duties a while longer.

Robin had settled his administrative matters at the castle, thanks in no small part to the arrival of a capable relief shift of prepared knights. That meant that their journey to Port Ferox would be made all the more soon. Kjelle wanted to ensure that their travel was uneventful. They would both soon have far too much to deal with; none of their precious remaining free time could be wasted on anything extraneous.

"I don't think I want to put effort into anything right now." Robin said. "What would we do?"

"I don't know. Work out? Shop? Drink? Something we can do together." Kjelle shrugged.

"You're trying to keep an eye on me." Robin narrowed his gaze. Kjelle couldn't understand why he was acting wary. Had her intentions not been clear?

"Yeah, no shit." Kjelle said. "Until the Shepherds are around to make sure you don't act the fool, that duty falls to me. I'm not going to let you die."

"I'm not going to do anything like that! I'm… I don't know what I'll do. I'll try to make things work out, okay?" Robin said, all intensity leaving his gaze. "You don't have to worry. I appreciate the sentiment, but it isn't worth the trouble."

"This isn't troublesome, not for someone like me." Kjelle said. "I'm doing this because I'm your friend. I don't want you to be hurt."

"You-" Robin began before stopping himself with a sigh. "Thanks, Kjelle. My point about what happens if I ever hurt someone stands, though. If anyone I care for comes to harm by my hand-"

"Then you have to die, no questions asked." Kjelle finished the statement for him. "I know. Let's get our lunch already so we can go train. I've missed too much over our travelling. Come to think of it, I'd love to see how a trained Shepherd keeps up with me. Maybe training will be good for your mind, too."

Robin blinked, in no way liking the sly look Kjelle was directing toward him. The expression told him he would in no way be able to keep her pace. "I think I'll take the option for shopping. I've got, um… tactical supplies to buy. You know, pending intercontinental war I haven't planned for, and all that."


"Two missions in Plegia? In which you're looking for time travellers?"

Cordelia nodded, confirming once more what she had conveyed to the general before her. "Yes, Kellam. I know it sounds absurd, but Robin must have some reason to send us out to Plegia. I doubt there are actual time travellers - perhaps it's code, or he needs us out there and thought this was an adequate way of ensuring our presence. Either way, I've yet to see any reason to refuse these peacekeeping missions."

"And you're saying you don't want me to come along?" Kellam asked, stifling what little surprise he felt. He was saddened but understood what Cordelia was saying, and agreed with her.

"It's nothing against you, but you're a general." Cordelia said. "Heavy armour weighs you down, and we're navigating a desert for days on end. Our marching time would be lessened by not having to wait on an armour unit."

"Okay. I get it." Kellam agreed, leaving Cordelia surprised. "I've considered how slow I am compared to the rest of you. Even if I were to share a mount with someone, I'd only weigh the thing down. Frederick would at least have a horse to himself. Guess it'll be best to meet you at Port Ferox, huh?"

Cordelia smiled to her friend. "That's what I'd hoped for. Thanks for understanding, Kellam!" she said, her smile remaining as she stepped away and waved goodbye. Her limited time before the Shepherds' departure had drained from speaking with Kellam.

"I'm slow, huh?" Kellam wondered to himself as the vast majority of his friends made to depart. "Is that why people act like they can't see me? Do I lag behind them that much?"


Several days of marching passed as the Shepherds traversed the sands of Plegia. A proposition Robin had long ago drafted and Chrom had approved permitted the Shepherds access to the nation on the grounds of assistance. That treaty was intended to deal with risen, but the current circumstances of the new missions called for some bending of the rules.

Both Frederick and Cordelia had assumed the positions of leaders. Robin and Chrom had both given permanent as such in the last war. The Shepherds' march was therefore organised by the day Cherche had delivered Robin's letters.

Sumia had elected to remain at the castle with Chrom in anticipation of meeting with Robin. That left Cordelia alone to perform reconnaissance, though she now had newfound aid from Cherche. The wyvern rider was proving to be an incredible asset, scouting flawlessly and adhering to extra duties in her downtime despite having joined a matter of days ago. Her companion Say'ri was also fitting in well, though she had yet to prove as capable as Cherche.

Throughout their long hours of soaring above Plegia and intermittent reports, the two fliers agreed above all else that something was wrong. Minerva had been first to point out the unusual silence that hung like a shroud over the desert sands. Cordelia and Cherche had both later felt the same unnerving sensation as they monitored the movements of caravans and towns passed on the march.

Something had happened to the desert nation. It was wordless, and it yet bore no form, but something had happened all the same. The people saw as they traversed Plegia were the same as ever, yet the world was silent. It was full, yet possessed a creeping emptiness.

Neither Cordelia nor Cherche voiced their concerns to anyone but one another. None of the other Shepherds shared the same lingering sense of dread.

After several more days, the Shepherds arrived at the first of their destinations - a forested series of villages bearing the unwelcoming name of Law's End. There, to the amazement of all present, the Shepherds happened upon a Taguel.

A young man, who Robin had identified as Yarne yet had failed to mention was a Taguel, readily joined their ranks and was then beset upon by an intrigued Panne. The two had spoken at length after the battle, with Panne later reporting that Yarne possessed a scent similar to her own. Robin had also failed to mention that Yarne was in all likelihood Panne's son.

As absurd as the claims of time travel were, they were gaining traction amongst the Shepherds. Panne had been convinced entirely by Yarne's appearance alone. Others grew curious of their own futures as a result.

After eliminating both mercenary forces occupying the area of Law's End, as per the requirements of Robin's ordinance, Cordelia and Frederick urged the Shepherds on to their second destination. A boat was sailed to an island west of mainland Plegia and arrived at a second mercenary-riddled locale. At this Mercenary Fortress, they set about finding the second person Robin had indicated would be involved with the Shepherds.

On that day, the silence looming over the world grew deafening.


Cordelia touched down near the entrance of the fortress, landing next to Frederick and being followed by Cherche. "Over twenty confirmed foes, but the closed roof prevents accurate numbering. All we have to go off of is the info from those villagers." she reported to Frederick.

"There appear to be no entrances beyond this and the path to our east, but Minerva warns of imminent reinforcements within." Cherche, too, provided her report. "I regret to say that we were unable to scout the enemy. Though that won't make this dread dissipate…"

"A young woman was spotted at the eastern entrance." Frederick gave his own report. "She disappeared inside before we could make contact, but we so far suspect her of being the soldier Robin indicated - Severa. Panne and Yarne have been dispatched to pursue her."

"I'll accompany them." Cordelia said, kicking her pegasus in the direction of the second entrance. "Should she prove to be one of these special cases, it would be wise for one of us to be present. More so, I wish to evaluate Yarne. I hadn't expected him to be ready for combat so soon."

"So be it. I shall remain with the main body of our forces." Frederick nodded, and after flashing him a small smile Cordelia took off toward the eastern entrance.

Cherche maintained a level face, ignoring entirely the quaint display of affection that had elicited a blush from the knight commander before her. To disregard such matters had been a requirement when working under Virion.

Minerva growled beneath her, shaking their bodies. The noise soon devolved into a pathetic whimper. Cherche frowned and caressed the side of her mount's head, hoping to eliminate her friend's unease.

"Will you fight alongside us?" Frederick asked, his lance drawn in the short time Cherche had diverted her attention to Minerva. The Shepherd forces had begun to rally behind him.

"Of course!" Cherche reassured him with a smile. "We'll never abandon friends to fight on their lonesome. What horrid beings would we be then?"

"Quell your unease. The enemy's equipment and numbers are unknown, but you stand with the most capable faction of soldiers on the continent, if not the world. We intend to claim victory here today without any loss of life among our own."

"I was there for the last battle, Frederick." Cherche reminded him. "I'm fully aware of the limits of everyone here, and of myself. However, there's something unusual in play. Can you not feel it? A looming silence, a dread encroaching upon the land? Minerva feels it, as do I and Cordelia."

Frederick shook his head. "I am aware of no such silence or dread. If you hold any information as to why we shouldn't engage the enemy, speak now."

Cherche laughed, the sound devoid of all the unease she felt. "Nonsense, Frederick. It's a feeling. Nothing more."

"In that case, we advance." Frederick said with a curt nod. "Cordelia, Panne, and Yarne will be requiring our aid, as will the woman we believe to be Severa."

He kicked his horse around to face the Shepherds behind him, saying no more. Cherche allowed him to depart without issue. Mages, riders, footsoldiers, and a young girl who could transform into a dragon were all drawing their weapons. That last one had given Minerva quite the surprise in their previous battle.

Cherche smiled as she made one last survey of her surroundings. She liked these people, though they were ill prepared to face down a force as great as Walhart. Their numbers were low, but she had seen how capable each and every Shepherd had proven themselves to be. Perhaps they would be the greatest opportunity to defeat the conqueror.

Minerva emitted another low rumble of a growl, and Cherche's smile faded into a frown. A dust cloud was building on the horizon. It was massive. Unnatural.

She glanced back to the Shepherds, then returned her gaze to the dust cloud. There was no way she could bring herself to abandon her new friends and allies, but the cloud merited observation. She could check on it and return in time to engage in the battle proper.

After a moment of hesitation, Cherche and Minerva flew into the air toward the storm of sand. Their dread built itself higher as they approached, and as it approached them. The cloud radiated silence.

Cherche and the cloud were upon one another within a minute of her approach. The sounds of early battle faded behind her, growing fainter with every passing moment. The sounds were being silenced.

As Cherche had suspected, the storm before her was far too large to be natural. Rather, she was able to determine that constant streams of wind magic were being pushed toward the ground and arching around in the air, shielding those within from sight while carving a path through the desert. That same wind was keeping all movement, even that of the sand, silent.

Part of the shell of wind opened, as though a stick had been placed in the middle of a stream. The opening released an atrocious noise of whistling sand and wind. Cherche and Minerva winced at the sheer volume of the screaming air. An object shot up from within, propelled by successive bursts of wind magic, and then the noise and the gap in the shell disappeared.

The object, a cramped and irregularly shaped ovoid, leveled out at the same altitude as Cherche. She drew her axe to combat whatever it may be. All she knew was that it was part of what had brought upon her dread.

A faint trail of sand followed the object as it levelled with her flight path. Cherche did not intend to make the first strike, knowing that she was not necessarily an enemy of whatever was before her. Her grip nonetheless tightened on the hilt of her axe.

The object unfurled itself, revealing a large wyvern at least the size of Minerva and an armoured rider. All armour on both the mount and rider was painted a fierce red. Trails of sand continued to cascade off the wyvern's tail and wings. Only then did Cherche realise that both she and the new rider were being pushed away at speed from the dust cloud. Despite Minerva attempting to fly forward, they were propelled back.

"Identify yourself!" Cherche shouted to the rider. She'd never seen a wyvern knight propel themselves with wind magic - the wyvern appeared to have no damage from the magic, either. Cherche had never encountered such an unnerving person as the one flying before her.

"My identity is of no significance to you." the person said. Their voice was masculine but young, a small amount older than Cherche herself. His speaking carried far better than Cherche's. He was trained to accommodate this silence. "Please, return to the Shepherds and await the arrival of our commander. We intend no harm to anyone. In fact, we're here to help."

Cherche's grip on her axe remained steady. "I'm to simply believe you? Identify yourself."

"You may call us the remnants of the Plegian royal military. Identify us as such to your commanding officer and inform them that we wish to aid your efforts. Have you yet found the time traveller?"

"I beg your pardon? Time traveller?" Cherche feigned ignorance, her expression masked with no smile, frown, or facial tells. Everything about her situation was rubbing her the wrong way.

"Have the Shepherds not told you?" the man asked, muted surprise working its way over his masked features. "Severa, the daughter of Cordelia and Kellam. Red hair. Abrasive personality that gives way to caring. You'll know her soon."

Cherche's expression remained measured despite her confusion. "Cordelia and…?" she muttered, knowing her voice was quiet enough for none but Minerva to hear.

"Kellam." the rider finished her statement. Cherche's confusion cracked through her mask, as the rider let out a confident, low rumble of a laugh.

"You're not used to this yet. Don't worry, you'll get there." the rider assured her. "If you don't… well, you'll die out, like all the rest. That's okay. I do hope you survive though, Cherche."

At that, Cherche allowed her surprise to play out across her face. Robin and Kjelle were able to leak information on time travel as they pleased. No one on this continent but the Shepherds were supposed to know her identity. "You know me, soldier?"

"Of course! We wouldn't permit an addition to the Shepherds go unnoticed." the man laughed again. "Is that such a surprise?"

Cherche narrowed her gaze on the man, then on his wyvern. Such mounts could be found in two locations of the known world, Plegia and Valm. The man was speaking with no accent whatsoever. His voice was practiced.

"I had heard tale that the Plegian royal military was disbanded, its members either dead or abandoned." Cherche said. Virion had reported as such in his correspondence.

"You heard well." the man said. "I told you that we're remnants. We seek to help you, so why do you question us? I promise, we intend no harm."

"How do you know my name? Where did you get the wyvern, and learn tactics unheard of?" Cherche asked, waving her axe toward the cloud of wind beneath them. "How do you know information to which you shouldn't have access?"

The man leaned forward on his wyvern, crossing his arms on the beast's armoured neck as he cast his gaze beneath Cherche. A smile spread across his face beneath the cover of his helmet. "Doesn't matter. We're here. Thanks for being so easy to stall."

Cherche directed Minerva's gaze toward the ground, not daring to look away from the potential foe across from her. The more relaxed he became, the more on edge Cherche grew. Minerva confirmed with a snort that they had been pushed all the way back to the fortress where they had first taken flight. Cherche cursed and refocused her intense gaze on the other rider.

"Like I said, we don't want to hurt you!" he laughed again. "We don't want unnecessary problems, either, though. Ah, and to answer your question…"

His wyvern flapped once, and was beside Minerva. Small jets of wind pulsed out from the armour on its back and wings. The armour itself glowed, telling Cherche's practiced gaze that it was enchanted, though with what she had no idea.

"You don't know about all of the time travellers." he said, his voice lower and all the more menacing. There was nothing hostile in his tone itself, but Cherche interpreted it as such.

She whipped her head and weapon arm toward the angle from which the rider had spoken, but he had begun his descent toward the fortress. The wind magic pulsing out of his wyvern's armour continued to propel him as he dropped.

Cherche turned her expression to stone and redirected Minerva, intending to pursue the man. She refused to believe a word he said. The dust cloud beneath her was dissipating. Ten more wyvern riders soared out from holes that appeared as the wind deteriorated and made their way toward the Shepherd ranks. A fleet of riders followed, ranging from armoured great knights, to valkyries, to a titan of a warhorse and rider charging at the forefront of the troops. The fact that she saw none of Valm's signature dark knights put Cherche's mind somewhat at ease.

The bulk of the supposedly Plegian army waited in place. Cherche began to see them set up tents and improvisational structures. Several hundred people milled about the desert beneath her without intent to join the battle at hand.

Cherche frowned and performed a rapid scan of her surroundings. Her frown deepened, and she made another, slower scan. Minerva's wings were beating and she could feel the rush of wind against her skin, but they were making no movement on any axis. She and Minerva were being held in the sky.

A wyvern screeched beneath her, and within moments Cherche could hear intense cussing. A new wyvern rider appeared on the same plane as her, with Sully clutched by the arms in the beast's large rear legs.

"You think you can take me!? You'll see who's boss when you go plummeting to the ground with my fist down your throat!" Sully roared at the wyvern and its rider. The rider was in possession of Sully's weapons, a sword and lance both held in their arms.

"What have you done? How on earth have you done it?" Cherche asked the new rider, now knowing that her voice would carry through the still air around her. To disarm Sully, perhaps the most volatile Shepherd, was a feat in itself.

"Some of you may cause problems." the rider said although her words were an answer. Her voice carried despite Sully's stream of cursing and repeated attempts to punch her captor.

Within seconds, more wyverns screeched and brought Shepherds skyward, some hostages single and others in pairs. All had their weapons taken by their respective captors. Vaike, Nowi, Sully's pissed off horse, Say'ri, Gregor, and Gaius were brought into the air.

Cherche looked around at the growing number of her allies in the sky, her concern building with each new member. Several wyverns were unaccounted for. Cherche settled her gaze on the rider nearest her, the one whose wyvern gripped Sully.

"You've abducted our forces." she stated plainly, knowing that she could not express her full concern.

"That we have." the rider across from her said. "I'm certain you've been told this, but we intend no harm. This is a precautionary measure."

"What could you hope to achieve by removing so many capable combatants from play?" Cherche asked. She managed to keep her voice measured, though she feared what would soon happen between this unit and her allies.

"We seek the annihilation of those unfit to live in this world. Nothing more, nothing less." the rider stated, her voice as level as Cherche's.

Cherche raised an eyebrow,. "You seek annihilation, yet claim to be allies of the Shepherds? Your ideals are incompatible with the peace they seek."

"We've all realised as such. However, only a fool would grasp for peace when the world begs for war." the rider said. "Futile peacekeeping versus a conflict to end all conflicts… isn't the correct path obvious?"

"Your ideals are similar to those I had the displeasure of encountering in Valm. They're as idiotic, too." Cherche said. "Your armour has been painted over, you ride on wyverns, your speech was practiced rather than learned… dare I ask who you are?"

The rider laughed, an easy sound that was more melodious than Cherche could have anticipated. "The Valmese empire was pathetic - a bed of corruption and idiocy unmatched the world over. In its state, it was unfit to reach the end. It was faced with an ultimatum: evolve, or die out."

Cherche's gaze remained narrowed on the rider as she tapped Minerva, urging the wyvern to analyse the other woman's scent. "And they chose what, since you seem to be such an expert?"

"Both." the woman said, then laughed. "Ha, kind of ruins the point of an ultimatum to take a third option, doesn't it?"

Minerva let loose a low growl, though not one of hatred or fear. Rather, she had failed to identify the rider's scent. Her senses, too, were being blocked by their magic.

Cherche held her attention on the wyvern rider, her fury at having been rendered powerless breaking through onto her expression. She seethed in place, knowing that she could not move without the modified armour of the other riders.

Her suspicion was that the riders and military were Valmese - forerunners for the main force that would soon invade. The woman's answers, the small size of the army that Cherche could see, and the lack of several key classes of soldiers called that view into question. Granted, the woman could be lying, but even then the tactics this force utilised was beyond the scope of Valm. They were beyond the scope of anything Cherche had seen.

A sharp cracking sounded far beneath where Cherche and the other Shepherds were being held in place. The groaning rumble of a building's collapse sounded soon after. Cherche risked a glance downward and saw that the entire eastern wing of the Mercenary Fortress had crumbled inward. Her masked expression flashed into a frown for a split second. She knew that Cordelia, Severa, Panne, and Yarne were all in the area.

Before she could return her gaze to the wyvern riders, Cherche saw two shapes erupt forth from the debris below her. Both shapes ascended to the same height as each of their compatriot wyvern knights. In their talons were gripped two forms, Panne and Yarne, both of whom were in their beast form. Both seemed powerless to stop their abductors.

"Ah, more troublemakers." the wyvern rider nearest Cherche commented, her voice light.

"Unhand me, vile man-spawn!" Panne shouted, her voice carrying far in her altered state.

"Please! I'm sorry I was fighting, so please let me go!" The other Taguel, Yarne, pleaded. "I don't want to fight! I don't want to die!"

"Panne, Yarne. Smell the air - identify your captors." Cherche ordered, her calm disposition breaking through the calamity of their circumstances.

Yarne continued to panic, his limbs flailing for purchase against the wyvern holding him in place. Panne remained focused. She was the one to hear Cherche, and she attempted to identify the people carrying her and the Shepherds. Her nose twitched as she sniffed at the air time and again. Her confusion was written plain on her transformed face.

"I… smell nothing." Panne admitted. "No locations, no people, no wyverns, not even Plegia itself. What is this? What have you done to me?" she asked the rider whose wyvern held her in place.

"Their scents and identities are being concealed - part of their stupefying magic, no doubt." Cherche informed Panne. "They wish to hide from us, for they know that if we were aware of their true status, we would be enemies."

"We've assisted you and your friends today, Cherche." the female rider said. "Perhaps there would've been complications in securing victory without us, and perhaps not. Regardless, aren't we deserving of a little thanks?"

Cherche glared at the wyvern rider and said nothing. Her friends continued to struggle against their captors' grips, but never to any avail. More of the fortress continued to collapse below.


Cordelia slammed her shoulder into a wall, avoiding an arrow from one of the three enemies standing before her. Severa had somehow pressed on ahead without confronting these foes. Over the clamour of battle Cordelia could hear her shouting. She was conversing with someone, albeit with a fierce anger.

The fortress proved cramped despite its high roof and open halls. Cordelia had made the judgement call to leave her pegasus outside to better maneuver through the building. The archers she now faced justified her choice.

Panne and Yarne stalked behind Cordelia, remaining transformed but avoiding the incoming arrows. Cordelia cast a glance back to the two Taguel in time to see the ceiling behind them crash inward. Two massive wyverns descended into the fortress, spotted the shapeshifters, and swooped with their rear legs outstretched. Cordelia gave a double take, by which time the Taguel had been abducted through the hole in the ceiling.

The fortress shook as fissures of green light raced across its walls, sending torrents of dust cascading into the air. Cordelia froze in place as she struggled to retain her footing. Chunks of stone split off of the ceiling, only to be suspended in the air by an unseen force.

Two silent forms passed Cordelia as she stood amongst the levitating stonework littering the fortress hall. One paused after passing her and waved the other ahead to strike down the archers without issue. Both people rode horses, with all of their armour painted the same sharp red as the wyverns from moments ago.

The stopped rider did nothing as Cordelia approached him. She needed to pass him to reach Severa. A massive axe bearing an alien glow and intricate carvings whirred and hummed in the rider's grip. Cordelia tightened her hold on her silver lance.

"Halt." the man atop the warhorse commanded as Cordelia made to pass him by, his weapon arm extending to block her path. Cordelia leapt away from him and raised her lance, and did not dare risk her life by approaching further.

"Hmph. Cordelia." the man said. His voice boomed through the fortress' shattered halls. He wore no helmet, his firm frown, white hair, and blazing gaze clear for all to see. "You're a disappointment."

"We'll see about that." Cordelia replied, concealing how her nerves frayed further with every spoken word. The fact that this man so much as knew her name set her on edge.

The rider's frown twisted into a pleased smile. He dismounted his horse in a single swift movement. He stood taller than his accompanying warhorse, his heavy armour and formidable weapon causing him to appear as more of a threat than the beast. His stature was closer a titan than a human.

His hand tightened around the hilt of his axe. The ruined sections of building near him that had been made to levitate floated toward the axe at varying speeds, swirling around the weapon as its humming grew intense.

The second horseman galloped back into the scene with two unconscious forms on the back of his horse. He nodded to the giant of a man challenging Cordelia. The man gave no reply, his gaze and smile fixated on his target.

"Sir!" the second horseman shouted. "I have the targets! We're to exit immediately! Commander!"

The titan's smile faded back into a fierce frown. His weapon quieted. The stonework he had summoned lazily descended to the floor. As the weapon's hum grew silent, the structure of the fortress deteriorated, losing its shape as more of the ceiling caved inward.

"Go." he ordered the other rider without turning to face them. "I'll follow behind you in a short moment."

The other rider did not move. They stared at the intimidating titan, no fear or hesitation showing on their face.

"Are you attempting to defy me, worm?" the titan fumed, turning to face his companion as his gaze blazed into a new level of unwarranted fury.

"You know our directive." the second rider said. Cordelia was amazed that they were holding themselves together so well in their commander's scorching presence.

The titan's fist tightened on his weapon and his muscles tensed, the entirety of his focus shifting toward the other rider. If there were ever an opportune time to attack either soldier it would be now, but Cordelia could not bring herself to move. She could tell that any attempts at attack would be shut down as soon as they could begin. The commander radiated an experienced terror she had never before encountered.

With visible reluctance, the titan relaxed his tense muscles and shifted his weapon to a holster on his back. It continued to hum, keeping the fortress from outright collapsing.

"So be it." he said in as reluctant of a tone. "Now go. I will follow with this one." he gestured to Cordelia, who against all of her better judgement had remained rooted in place.

The second rider nodded and set his horse at a trot out of the fortress. He passed within a metre of Cordelia, and she was able to see how his body shook in his armour. He was terrified. Cordelia gave him no blame.

As the rider passed, Cordelia was brought within reach of Severa and an unidentified young man. The rider passed by and before she could move to rouse either of the unconscious forms. They exited the fortress without issue.

"Cordelia." the commander's voice boomed, ripping her attention away from the other rider. His hand opened and extended toward her. "Come with me or die in this barren tomb."

Cordelia wasted no time in reaffirming her combat stance, holding her lance high toward the titan's head. Her opponent's smile returned in full.

"Ah, such bravery. How I wish I could break you." he said, radiating more menace with every word. "I intend you no harm. We're to leave this place."

He took a step forward, and this time Cordelia found the courage to hold in place. The man's smile grew. He broke into a deep laugh and advanced on Cordelia at a greater speed. His hand no longer remained outstretched. The horse he had ridden into the fortress followed obediently behind him.

Cordelia adapted her grip on her lance to strike out at him, and did so in the form of a rapid jab. The man flat out ignored the strike, allowing the armour on his chest to suffer the blow. Cordelia's hit failed to slow his gait.

Before Cordelia could attack again, the man's hand burst forth at unnatural speed and planted itself at the base of her throat. Cordelia managed to strike again, but the commander brushed the attack aside with his free hand. All of his movements had become fast to the point of impossibility. A flash of green told Cordelia that he was somehow using wind magic to propel each action he made.

The man's grip then tightened around her throat, shutting off her flow of air with little effort. He lifted Cordelia into the air to be level with his face, leaving her legs to kick helplessly as her weapon clattered to the ground and she struggled to rip away his hold.

His grip lightened, allowing Cordelia to gasp for breath. Despite that leniency, his hold remained tight enough to keep her in place above the ground. He held her in that same pose as he swung around toward his horse. He threw Cordelia with little care onto the mount's back, picked her lance up off the ground where it had fallen, then mounted the horse himself and kicked it into motion.

The horse was larger than any Cordelia had seen. She could feel every movement it made through its heavy armour, and she could tell that it had been bred to support its current rider. One of the hands of the man in question raised into the air and glowed green as Cordelia regained her breath, and before she attempted to jump from the horse she was buffeted back down by a stream of wind magic.

Cordelia, the warhorse, and the commander soon broke free of the fortress walls. The building behind them deteriorated at a greater pace the further from it they moved. A stark silence from the titan's axe heralded the collapse of the fortress.

"I'm given to understand that you are in a position of power over the Shepherd forces." the commander said. He threw Cordelia to the ground and stabbed her lance into the sand at her side. "The other commander, Frederick, has been notified of a summit within our encampment. You, too, are welcome to attend. All enemy forces within the fortress have been eliminated. We seek now to deliver unto you a gift, then be on our way. Follow me or do nothing."

At that, the commander spun his horse around and moved toward a large encampment that had not been present minutes ago. Cordelia watched him leave, uncertain of how she should respond to such an unforeseen development. At the very least, Ricken and Miriel were conversing with some figures at the edge of the encampment, suggesting that the Shepherds were safe.

Miriel gestured several times toward the sky as she spoke to a group of what appeared to be mounted mages. Cordelia made to approach them, then paused and looked up to the sky where her friend had indicated, her brow then furrowing in confusion. Some of her fellow Shepherds were being held by wyvern riders in midair.

The new forces had yet to release them despite the end of the battle against the mercenaries. These forces seemed organised enough that such action could not be a bureaucratic error. They were holding the Shepherds hostage on purpose. Cordelia frowned, stood, and made to follow the commander.

None of the red-armoured soldiers attempted to stop Cordelia as she advanced despite her visible weaponry. Not so much as a curious glance was cast in her direction. They were much too at ease for her liking.

A melodious laughter stopped Cordelia as she navigated through the camp. On a side path occupied by few tents, she spotted Libra and Lissa engaging in conversation with yet another mounted unit. Cordelia could not help but wonder how these forces had arrived without warning, and how they had navigated their horses en masse through the deserts of Plegia.

As she passed by the two Shepherd healers, the mounted unit let out a short laugh and handed a staff to Lissa. Lissa smiled and jumped at the action, taking the staff in a reverent grip Cordelia had never seen from the petulant royal. The girl was amazed by the staff. By Cordelia's judgement, it was a sleep staff, and she deflated somewhat at knowing how many pranks of which it would soon be part.

Libra said a few short words of thanks to the rider, who smiled and waved his thanks away. The three were getting along well. Cordelia remained on edge nonetheless.

The commander's warhorse stood outside a massive tent central to the encampment. Frederick's horse stood next to the commander's, dwarfed by its monstrous size. Cordelia pushed forward and entered the tent, again without inspection by any guards.

Inside the tent, Frederick stood in place with his arms crossed behind his back as he stared at the titan of a commander across from him. He nodded to Cordelia as she entered, but refused to shift his gaze. His tension matched Cordelia's. A large, circular wooden table separated him from the commander.

"May I request that you identify yourself, sir?" Frederick asked the other man, beginning his proceedings now that his other behalf had arrived.

"No." the commander answered without hesitation, his deep voice shaking Frederick and Cordelia both. "I have arranged this meeting to grant you a gift, one you may require for the war to come. There is no reason beyond that for us to not be on our separate ways."

"You've captured our forces - you've stolen them away to the skies and have taken their weapons." Cordelia said. "If you desire peace between us, you must release them. Anything less will be seen as an act of aggression."

"Ah, capturing. A timeless tactic, yet one you seem all too fond to forget." the commander grinned. "It sounds as though you are in no position to make demands. However, you will be reunited with your forces and equipment after we have adjourned this summit, and we will return to our regular action."

"What is your regular action?" Cordelia interjected.

The nameless commander ignored her as he dragged a container out of the edge of the tent. "We are remnants of the royal Plegian military. One of your own was intended to convey that information, but she has proven problematic. She will be detained until the end of this meeting."

Frederick and Cordelia shared a quick glance before returning their gazes to the commander. He was lying. The Plegian military in all forms had been disbanded following the war against Ylisse - that was the entire reason the Shepherds had planned peacekeeping missions in the nation.

"Your troops and tactics, they bear little semblance to anything I have seen from Plegia." Frederick said. "I studied the Plegian forces to great extent during our war. May I add that you resemble none of their commanding officers?"

"You doubt me?" the commander asked. He somehow gave off more dangerous of an air than before. He slammed the case he had dragged out on the central table, causing Frederick to flinch.

"Er… no, my apologies. I was merely surprised." Frederick said in the hope of avoiding confrontation. "I am certain that you will cause for us no issue. There is little we cannot reconcile."

"Defending a nation is difficult when there exists no ruler to hold order." the titan said. "Plegia has suffered in the aftermath of your war. It failed to resist your might. It would be better utilised as a vassal of Ylisse and Ferox than as a nation of its own."

"I've never heard such an unfavourable view of Plegia by one of its own residents." Frederick noted. "Regardless, a new king is to be appointed soon, as I'm certain you're aware. Plegia will soon regain its full autonomy, as desired by both its people and those of Ylisse."

"A king? No, what this land needs is a true leader. One of merits, not a birthright." the commander said. "The king was to be a cultist and a madman, which is why he's been dead for the better part of two years. He would have set his sights on reviving Grima and annihilating the world. We were certain to dispose of him long ago."

"You killed Gangrel's successor?" Cordelia asked, surprised that this was the first she had heard of such a matter.

"Indeed. Validar. He who guided the Grimleal in worship for decades. Worry not, Shepherd, for my forces have tied up loose ends of which you've been too fond of ignoring. The Grimleal will cause for us no issues."

Frederick narrowed his gaze on the man. He had been aware of the potential threat the Grimleal posed to his lieges, but had never considered the plausibility of neutralising them. This man and his forces were proving to be as valuable of allies as they were dangers.

"I suppose I should thank you for your aid?" Frederick said in uncertainty. "As much as I wish we could make proper thanks, we must prepare for a greater altercation. A force of invaders is set to arrive in Ferox soon, and we must be present at the western port city for a short time. Would your forces be interested in aiding us then?"

"After you shun us and request our departure? Alas, I believe we have other matters to which we must attend." the commander said.

Cordelia coughed, bringing attention back to herself. "Frederick is correct in that we must soon depart. We always maintain a tight schedule with little room for unanticipated interruptions. Regardless of whether you wish to assist us, I request that we make this meeting brief."

"Ha! Such curt nonsense!" the commander laughed, but then nodded his head. "So be it. Accept this gift, and we may all be on our way."

He reached forward and unclasped the sealing locks on the weapon case before him, then opened the container and retrieved a weapon sheathed in cloth. He grabbed the weapon's hilt and began to unfurl its wrappings.

Frederick tensed almost to the point of popping blood vessels the wrappings fell away from the weapon, revealing an unmistakable silver and gold blade. He drew his lance from his back and pointed the weapon at the commander. The titan slowed his movements to a stop and smiled.

"What have you done!?" Frederick roared. His grip on his lance was shaking. Cordelia moved her hands to her own weapon, ready to draw it in the event of combat as she too recognized the weapon before her.

The commander let out another unsettling laugh as he grabbed the exposed head of the blade in his gauntlet. He swung the sword free of its remaining wrappings and then returned his grip to normal with a toss that flipped the weapon end for end.

"Falchion, the divine blade borne of Naga's fang." the commander spoke as he ran his free hand over the blade. "It holds insurmountable power, and the ability to fell dragons of her divine blood. There existed but one in the world until a few short years ago."

"What have you done!?" Frederick shouted again at the commander, demanding an answer for how he was in possession of Chrom's unique weapon. The titan and his forces could not possibly have overthrown Ylisstol since his departure, let alone kill Chrom. Such an event was impossible to consider.

The commander said nothing. He pointed the sword toward Frederick and then Cordelia, his face twisted into a sinister smile. He was willing them to attack.

Cordelia realised this and, to Frederick's complete dismay, lowered her weapon. The commander had no wish to bridge peace between them; he sought conflict. However, he was refusing to initiate combat. An attack now would cause unbridled retaliation. Such an outcome was unacceptable when over half the Shepherd forces were airborne hostages.

"If you would please explain yourself, sir?" Cordelia asked as politely as she could, though the waver in her voice was clear for all to hear. She motioned for Frederick to lower his lance. He refused to do so.

The commander stood silent for several moments that stretched on for an eternity. He then tossed Falchion onto the table toward Frederick.

"Your Exalt is safe." the commander said, spitting out the word Exalt with great distaste. "I have not laid hand or eye upon him, nor have any of my forces. There are those in this world who have travelled through time. This is the signature weapon of their leader, Lucina. Return it to her."

Frederick froze in shock, all that the commander was saying forcing his mind into a halt. "You know about…!?"

Cordelia, too, was flabbergasted by the information to which this unknown commander had access. "That's… those tales of time travel, they're not…"

"In time, you will see the honesty in my words. Doubt me if you must. My statements will be made no less true."

"This cannot be…" Frederick said, his gaze lingering on Falchion before snapping up. "This is impossible! What did you do!?"

"Chrom is alive. So too is his daughter from the future. You are bound to meet her soon, and when you do, I would request that you return that Falchion to her. She would fight better with it than without. I long to see how strong she will become."

"How on earth did you…?" Cordelia began to ask before trailing off, still mired in doubt over the claim of time travel. There was no way something so absurd could be true. The blade in Frederick's hands had to be Chrom's Falchion.

"You may utilise anything that remains in this camp after our departure." the commander brushed past Cordelia and made to exit the tent. "We will no longer require our lodgings. Use them as you see fit, or leave them here to waste away. Goodbye, Shepherds."

With that, the titan stepped out of the tent and began to shout orders. Both Cordelia and Frederick made no moves to follow him and instead remained transfixed on Falchion. The weapon's mere presence should be impossible.

A fierce wind began to pick up outside, thrashing against the tent and throwing sand into its open flap. Cordelia took note of the disturbance and moved to shield her face, then close the tent flap. Frederick remained stationary as his upper body began to tremble. Cordelia pushed herself outside the tent and left him to his thoughts.

Sand blew in all directions, smothering air and light in an impenetrable haze. As Cordelia struggled to make headway in any direction, muddied forms descended from the sky, which in turn dropped off other forms before disappearing into the sandstorm. Cordelia soon realised that her fellow Shepherds were being gathered and returned to her position.

She attempted to combat the artificial storm to check on the well-being of her friends, and search for any trace of the soldiers who had once patrolled the encampment. All of their tents remained, but without people or mounts.

After ineffective shields of wind had been constructed by Miriel and Ricken to spare the Shepherds' skin and eyes from the flurry of sand. After Cordelia had been able to scout much of the large encampment despite fighting against nature. Only then did the storm lift. It was present one moment, then gone the next. Cordelia found that the camp was barren and returned to her friends near the summit tent.

Every Shepherd that had been present on the mission was accounted for with all of their equipment. Furthermore, the young woman who identified herself as Severa found her way to the Shepherds. Her friend Holland accompanied her only to be dismissed within seconds.

Severa claimed to have no knowledge of the forces who had captured her and the Shepherds. Panne, Yarne, and Minerva all attested to being incapable of discerning the soldiers' origin on the grounds of scent. In fact, none of the Shepherds had any idea as to the true identity of the new forces. Cordelia could not help but note how Yarne and Severa recognised one another. Both were more than prepared to join the Shepherds despite refusing to acknowledge their supposed time travelling.

Inside of the summit tent, Cordelia found Frederick standing in the same place as when she had left, Falchion now clutched in his hands. He had yet to move.

"They're gone, Frederick." she said without bothering to introduce herself. "The soldiers. They disappeared during the storm. Cherche claims that the sand was their doing, and that she was suspended in the sky with similar magic. Their storm has gone quiet. They've disappeared."

Frederick said nothing. He remained locked in place.

"Whatever happens next, we can't stay here." Cordelia continued. "There remains the coming invasion at Port Ferox, and the presence of these new forces somewhere on the continent. I admittedly hold little trust for them. That said, I believe we should return to Ylisstol. We should check on Chrom, and once we're certain he's okay, we should escort him to Ferox."

"Nonsense!" Frederick piped up, his voice too cheery to be natural. "Chrom will arrive at Port Ferox in a matter of days. We must meet him there. Come, now, we mustn't dally. The sooner we reach the port, the sooner we may be reunited with him."

Cordelia regarded Frederick carefully. His inability to cope with Falchion's appearance was plain to see. "Frederick, that's…"

"If this is Chrom's blade, if something unthinkable has happened… we'll hunt down those forces and slaughter them."

Cordelia shivered. The conviction in Frederick's voice was genuine and beyond negotiable. Frederick attempted to move past her and exit the tent, but was stopped when she pushed against him with one hand.

"Falchion, if I may?" she asked, her other palm opening to accept the weapon.

"Treat it well. Even false replicas may hold some value." Frederick advised as he passed her the weapon, then left the tent.

When she exited the tent, Frederick was engaged in conversation with several of the Shepherds, his tone pleasant. Half the people he spoke to nodded before breaking away to perform a given task, while the remaining half shared looks of justified concern. Cordelia ignored them and combed over the Shepherds until she found her desired target.

"Severa." Cordelia said, amazed by how calm her own voice sounded. As long as she could retain some semblance of hope, there was no reason to panic.

"Hm? Oh, it's… Cordelia, right?" Severa greeted, looking up from the nothing to which she had pretended to attend. Cordelia could tell that the woman was on edge, and that she was choosing every word she spoke with the utmost care. "I suppose we'd have to have proper introductions sooner or later, huh? So, yeah, I'm Severa. I'm a mercenary from around here, and I'm interested in helping you lot out."

"A pleasure to meet you." Cordelia smiled, maintaining her facade of calm. She held Falchion in front of her, giving Severa time to see the weapon.

"Er, why do you have Chrom's…? I was told he was at Ylisstol?" Severa asked after a long moment of silence.

"That he is. This Falchion is not his, but Lucina's." Cordelia said. Severa's eyes widened at the drop of the woman's name, but she then returned to her more regular irritated expression to conceal her surprise.

"Never heard of 'em before." Severa said in forced disinterest. Cordelia could tell that she was now more focused on their conversation than ever. "Are they supposed to be important, or is there some other dumb reason they're running around with a Falchion knockoff?"

"Please, Severa, be honest." Cordelia urged. "Is there a woman named Lucina who has blood ties to Chrom? Is she a time traveller? Are you?"

Severa blinked, struggling to understand how Cordelia could have come across Falchion and something as concealed as Lucina's identity. She sighed and resolved herself to sharing a small fraction of truth. "Lucina wouldn't be caught dead without Falchion. She had it when we were last together. I don't know what's happened, but… I don't know. Is that good enough for you?"

Cordelia's expression remained level as she nodded. "It will suffice. I hope that you'll come to tell me everything soon enough, as right now, I'm not certain of what to believe. Thanks for your help."

"How did you know about her?" Severa asked before Cordelia could leave. "About Lucina? Where did you get Falchion?"

A low growl interrupted Cordelia before she could provide an answer. Minerva strode into their conversation, standing between the two women. Cherche sat atop her back and leaned forward to berate her mount.

"Minerva! Don't intrude on conversations like this! It's rude!" she hissed into the wyvern's ear. Minerva was unmoved by the scolding.

Cherche then raised her head to smile her innocence at Cordelia, then Severa. "Well, since we were eavesdropping anyway…" her smile brightened despite how Severa glared at her. "One of the soldiers of that Plegian regiment mentioned time travel. They claimed that we had yet to learn of all those from the future. If there are time travellers, I believe one or more may be assisting them. That's information of which we should all be aware before moving forward, no?"

Cordelia raised an eyebrow at the new information. The claim of time travel was intriguing, if not easy to palate. The fact that the unknown military had accepted it as gospel was troubling.

"My apologies for my absence." Cherche angled her head back to Cordelia, her smile growing strained. "I made an error and was subdued. It was as though they didn't want me to interfere… or, perhaps, get too close."

"Thank you for sharing this, Cherche, and please don't fret over what happened during the battle." Cordelia said. "Their forces routed the mercenaries on top of capturing half of our soldiers. They've proven to be a formidable unit. I'm glad we never had to face them in the Plegian war."

"Wait a second!" Severa demanded. "They have one of my friends working with them? That's impossible! We promised to help the Shepherds directly - what good could we do through a proxy?"

"You're saying that you do have friends who possess valuable information, and that you were always intent on aiding us?" Cordelia asked instead of providing an answer. Though a ridiculous prospect, the event of time travel held an inkling of believability.

"I, ah…" Severa stammered, uncertain of what kind of grave she had dug for herself. "Yes, okay? Satisfied? There's a lot of us, and we always wanted to help out. We care about everyone here." She sighed and continued, "Lucina was so set on concealing our identities. I have no idea who would've defied her and spilled everything, and to someone outside the Shepherds, no less."

Cordelia smiled to the apparent time traveller before her. "Thank you, Severa. It's a relief to know that Chrom is safe. There should be no issue with us proceeding to Port Ferox." she nodded to Cherche.

"We should be making preparations, then." Cherche said. "Frederick has given orders to depart. He seems set on reaching the port, and made certain that no one was to return to Ylisstol. Seeing him so pleasant is disturbing "

Severa spoke again before Cherche or Cordelia could leave. "Did the soldiers mention who they contacted? Or how they got my friend's sword? She would be as unlikely to part with it as Chrom with Falchion. I doubt she's in any trouble, but still, I want to know what's happened. This isn't as it should be."

"We'll be able to settle all that needs to be settled at the port where we should have access to more information." Cordelia said. "We must focus on getting there for now. There's no telling when Valmese forces will arrive."

"Can I stay with you for a little while, Cordelia, at the very least?" Severa asked. All of the conviction she carried had vanished.

Cordelia blinked as she processed the request, then waved for Cherche to leave them. Severa's expression lit up in response. "Of course. My apologies if I'm cold right now; I'm still not certain of how to act given these recent developments."

"It's okay. You're doing well." Severa smiled. Cordelia could tell that the expression was unpolished and therefore rare.

"Is there something specific you require my help on?" Cordelia asked. She had no desire to push Severa away, but she also did not wish to waste time with anything needless.

"Um, not really, I…" Severa said, and her expression fell to dismay. "I thought that talking with you would be good for me. That you'd be able to fix everything wrong and comfort me. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be doing this. We can talk at the port like you wanted. Sorry for wasting your time."

Cordelia tilted her head, noting Severa's displeasure but having no way of understanding its cause. "Severa? If you tell me what's bothering you, I can help."

Severa kept her gaze locked away from Cordelia, focusing instead on the ground. "Have you found or heard of someone - another one of my friends - by the name of Kjelle?"

Cordelia raised an eyebrow and nodded. At least their shared story of time travel was well interwoven. "Yes. She's with our grandmaster tactician, Robin, in Ferox. They were going to come find you, but in the interest of time, Robin requested that we come instead."

Severa in turn raised her eyebrows. "She's with Robin? Yarne told me that he wasn't here with you, but for the two of them to be alone together… that doesn't bode well."

"Is there something of which I should be aware?" Cordelia asked.

"Hm? Ah, no, no, it's nothing. Nothing at all." Severa smiled, and Cordelia knew it to be illegitimate. "They, ah, might have some heated interactions, is all. Difficulty getting along."

"I'm certain they'll be fine. Robin isn't a hostile person, and I doubt anything could cause them to fight, even if Kjelle is aggressive."

Severa gave a bright but hidden smile. "Thanks for talking to me, Cordelia. I should thank you more, a thousand times over, for everything you've done… but, I guess you haven't done much of anything yet. Still, I didn't get to say it before, so thank you. For everything. You have no idea how much it matters."

Before Cordelia could respond, Severa stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace, squeezing the other woman as though she would disappear at any moment. She buried her head in Cordelia's shoulder, and was soon on the brink of unbidden tears.

"It's alright, Severa." Cordelia wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman, consoling her without knowing why. The sole explanation she could form relied on accepting time travel as fact. Despite all evidence she had at her disposal, Cordelia did not yet want to accept such a theory.


Kjelle washed her touch over the array of tomes before her. She had no business of her own in this quaint Ylissean bookstore, but Robin had been adamant about dropping by to pick up several tomes. Kjelle was therefore searching for his desired volumes while the man himself was trying on new cloaks in a nearby shop. His current marvel of enchantments had received damage in his battle against the risen Khan Flavia. Kjelle had mocked that fact relentlessly.

All Kjelle and Robin would have to do after this was return to the castle to get armour, and then they could depart without issue. Robin had been certain to give her enough funds to procure the tomes he sought, considering Kjelle's lack of funds. He wished to rejoin the Shepherds soon despite his forthright objections.

Though Kjelle had not wished to leave Robin alone for even a short walk, she believed that he would be safe. Nothing significant could happen in the crowded streets and stores of Ylisstol.

A firm hand placed itself atop Kjelle's shoulder as she examined another row of books. She sighed in partial disgust, preparing herself to dismiss a passerby. Perhaps it was someone who had seen her with Robin and thought her famous, or someone who sought a less cordial approach. The thought of meeting force with greater force excited her.

"Um, hell- okay, you are… large. Holy shit." Kjelle turned to face the person who had approached her, with her retorts and hidden desire to fight withering alongside her ability to form a sentence.

The man before her laughed, an unsettling noise when coming from him. He towered above Kjelle - above everyone gathered in the store. His muscles were easily visible beneath his large yet tight clothing. His eyes and hair both blazed a fierce white, highlighting his experienced yet unscarred face. In an instant Kjelle wanted to see him flex.

"I suppose I should consider that a compliment?" the man grinned. His voice was deeper than his laugh. For some reason, his laugh bore a tinge Kjelle thought to be feminine, though she was uncertain how she had noticed such a thing. "Ha, or perhaps it was in jest? I've been told I need to laugh more."

"No, you're pretty godsdamn massive." Kjelle said, not realising how intimidated she had allowed herself to become until she spoke. The man's mere presence was enough to put her on edge.

"My apologies if I fail to register such a statement as a compliment." the man said, his expression turning into a menacing glare then reverting to a smile, as if the first change had been on accident.

Kjelle blinked. Her mind was slowing in his presence. "Er, no, I didn't mean it like that. It's… you're… sorry, but how much do you weigh? Most of it is pure muscle, right?"

The man's smile widened, making Kjelle feel no more at ease than we he had glared. "Ha! I do pride myself on my routine. Regrettably, I know not my metrics - as long as I can emerge victorious, I have no need to pay mind toward such trivial matters."

"Yeah, you seem like you'd win a lot of fights." Kjelle said. She wanted to fight him on instinct, but also feared that doing so would be a horrible idea.

The man's smile grew intense. "I can see the fire in your eyes. You wish to fight me, don't you? To defeat me? I share such a sentiment, though I regret to say that it will yet go unfulfilled."

"Aha, ha, no, not quite." Kjelle said, using a smile to close her eyes and conceal her competitive intent. She hated how meek she was pretending to be in this man's presence. "Er, no actually, I… uh…"

"Ha! You would allow my mere visage to intimidate you? Pathetic!" the man laughed. Kjelle opened her mouth to protest as she found her confidence, but could not bring herself to speak before the man continued.

"I had heard such grand tales of you, Kjelle. Such great reasons to anticipate this meeting." he said. "Are you not a knight who desires to be stronger than any other? One who seeks power above everything? I had hoped that the fire in your soul would eclipse all else, but now that I see you…"

"How do you know who I am?" Kjelle asked, allowing his insult to pass by unchecked. None of her friends would reveal her identity, Robin had no reason to do so to anyone outside the Shepherds, and the Shepherds themselves had no reason to reveal confidential information.

"I have my methods. Rest assured, the accompaniment of Robin is well known to me, as with many others." the man said, and Kjelle frowned. "I desire to tell you a short story. Perhaps that will help you understand."

He held out his hand, his bare palm facing upward. Kjelle hated how the palm dwarfed her own. The man before her was nothing short of a titan.

Flames flickered into life on the man's palm. Kjelle's eyes widened at the magic; she had believed herself to be one of the first people in the world who cared so much for their physical self while studying the arcane. She had in no way expected someone as muscular as the man before her to be a mage.

"You know magic?" she asked in her moment of surprise. Only then did she realise that the man had yet to introduce himself. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Such worthless questions during a time of recounting." the man said, silencing her. Though Kjelle had found her confidence, she by no means wished to anger this man.

The flames the man conjured trailed upward, taking form from the bottom up. Within seconds there existed the clear image of two people standing in the man's palm. One wore heavy armour. The other wore a cloak of such absurd detail that Kjelle knew it could be none other than Robin. The man's magic was so well controlled that such details were clear to see, without fear of brightness or heat.

Kjelle's brow furrowed as she took in the two small, glowing figures. There was no way to interpret the scene except as her meeting Robin. She was afraid to ask how the man had come across such information as to recreate their first moments together.

Without any tension or muscle movement, the man changed the image in his palm. Not only was he a mage, but he was more adept at the practice than Kjelle - she still had to rely on extraneous physical movement and verbal incantations to cast anything.

The two figures shifted into different poses, one drawing an axe while the other prepared to counter them. Then the axe lay broken. Then another weapon, and another, and another, until the armored figure sagged their shoulders in defeat. The image of Robin brought his hand out to assist them. They both then stood tall, side by side, and Kjelle knew they were happy.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" the man said, allowing the final image to linger. "Such animosity, broken apart by something other than power and domination. Defeat meant nothing, and so kindness found hold and forced itself to bloom."

He curled his hand into a fist, extinguishing the flames. "If only such an ideal could last. If so, there would be no need for rivalry, war, or conquest. Alas, paltry ideals of peace and love will never be made true without great bloodshed."

Kjelle straightened her posture. She had not realised that she had leaned toward the man to better interpret the scene in his hand. "What was that? What were you showing me?"

"Could you not tell?" the man asked with a ruthless smile. "You witnessed my comprehension of ambition. You share my vision. I had hoped to cross blades with you for that reason."

"What?" Kjelle asked as she failed to process the man's words. Her eyebrows reached high up her forehead as she understood his statement. "You… want to fight me? Right here, right now?"

The man shook his head, and Kjelle berated herself for not accepting his challenge the moment it was made. "We cannot battle, as of yet. Perhaps one day. I hope you survive until then."

Kjelle blinke, but regained her ability to speak. "Okay? You too, I guess? I mean… yeah, definitely! If you're trying to be the strongest person in the world, too, then there's no way I won't beat you! I'll kick your ass as soon as I get the chance!"

The man laughed. Kjelle could not determine whether she had made the right call in challenging him back. "So, you've found your bravado! If only you hadn't made such a laughable first impression!"

Kjelle frowned and narrowed her gaze. "Disregarding that, how did you get info on me? I've been rather secretive about it for most of my life - at least, as far as you or anyone else should know."

"I know more than you could believe." the man said in his deep, level tone. "I approached you due to your connection with Robin, but my intentions to defeat you remain true nonetheless. You are best off considering me no more than a fanatic."

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it." Kjelle mumbled. How else could someone know so much about her? "So, ah, you wanted to find Robin through me?" she asked, displeased that the man's fame was eclipsing her own in spite of her desire for secrecy.

"Not quite." the man said. "I believe it unwise to meet with Robin. However, you travel with him."

Kjelle's face wrinkled into muted disgust at the prospect of the man before her having studied her routine. She kept it from disturbing her too much, for she had come to know of the fame Shepherds' fame and the fanaticism that followed.

"There's something I wish to be delivered to Robin. A gift from a fan." the man said. He reached into a bag on his side that Kjelle had failed to notice in her awe of his stature, and from it pulled forth a pale blue book. The man held the tome out to her, and Kjelle took it from him without issue.

"The… 'Book of Naga'?" Kjelle read aloud, struggling with the cover's archaic text. She opened the book to read a passage, and in an instant knew that any spells within were far beyond her ability to cast. "What is this thing? None of this seems like anima magic."

"Show it to Robin." the man instructed. "I'm certain he will be elated. It's a marvel of magic."

"A marvel?" Kjelle repeated after him, turning the tome over in her hands as though doing so would help her understand its contents. "Huh. I suppose I should thank you, or something?"

"No thanks is needed. I am well aware of how beneficial my actions will prove to be." the man said with a smile nothing short of ominous. "I would have provided you, too, with aid, but I would hope for you to not require such things to be powerful. The gifts I myself have been granted are extraordinary, but they are nothing compared to my raw might of will."

"Er, right." Kjelle agreed, more enraptured by the unusual tome than his words. "Thanks anyway. I'll be sure to bring this to him."

"Don't bother attempting to use it for yourself. You won't be capable." the man said, shutting down the vain idea Kjelle had begun to form. "Deliver it to Robin and allow him to do as he pleases. Grow strong on your own. Then, return here, and we may determine who among us stands stronger - which of us will be able to shape the world, be it myself, you, Robin, or another. I'll await your return."

"Right, right. I'll be certain to kick your ass as soon as I-" Kjelle began, then found herself narrowing her gaze on the man anew. "How do you know I'm leaving? Is that public knowledge?"

"Have not all of the Shepherds left Ylisstol?" the man asked in turn without missing a beat. His answer sounded too prepared to be natural.

"And you believe me to be a Shepherd?" Kjelle asked next. She had yet to officially join their rank, at least if the tales of a written requirement held any merit.

The man remained silent for a long moment, staring at Kjelle in a silent fury. A smile then broke out over his expression, and it was no more welcoming than his anger. "I know that you travel with Robin. Is it wrong to assume that you are acquainted with the Shepherds? I believe not."

"Well, you're lucky that your assumption turned out to be correct." Kjelle said. "I know Robin; I'm… I'm close to him. I'll give him the book, the two of us will go complete our mission with the Shepherds, and then I'll come back here to beat you into the ground. Count on it."

The man's smile widened, and this time held a genuine excitement. "I will count the days. For now, though, I must be on my way. It was a pleasure to meet you, Kjelle. I hope it will be more of a pleasure to fight you."

"Yeah, okay. Sure. It will be." Kjelle said, remaining somewhat uncertain of how to conduct herself in the man's presence.

"Farewell, Kjelle." the man said, and with a curt nod he made to exit the bookstore. Kjelle found herself doubting his ability to fit through the door without contorting his massive body.

"Goodbye, uh… guy?" Kjelle said in turn, realising once again that she knew nothing of the man's identity.

Within seconds the man was lost to the crowds of Ylisstol. Kjelle thought it amazing that someone as large as him could be obscured by ordinary people, before then wondering if he intended to be lost. The covert manner in which he had approached her in no way quieted her sense of unease.

Kjelle returned her attention to the shelf of the bookstore. She located the tomes Robin desired within a few short minutes. When she made to buy them, she noticed how the shopkeep eyed her gifted pale blue tome, though they made no comment on the book.

She exited the store, and soon found Robin standing in the alcove of a clothing shop's entrance. The grandmaster waved to her as she approached. Kjelle felt as though the expression were forced.

"Did you find a new cloak?" Kjelle asked.

Robin shook his head. "None that caught my interest. Did you find those tomes I wanted?"

Kjelle nodded and handed him the three books she had purchased: high-class tomes on wind, fire, and thunder magic. She kept the Book of Naga in her off hand, waiting for Robin to appraise the first three tomes before she provided the unknown man's gift.

"Awesome, thanks!" Robin smiled. Again Kjelle feared that the harmonious sound was falsified. Robin placed the tomes away within his cloak, and Kjelle wondered where his other volumes had gone, only now realising that he was without some of his signature weaponry. His eyes then caught the remaining pale blue tome. "Did you pick up a fourth?"

"It was gifted to me by… someone." Kjelle explained and held the tome out for Robin to examine. "I didn't get their name."

Robin's eyes widened as he snatched the tome from her grip. His mouth fell open as he read the cover and the first pages of the tome. "Where… who gave you this!?" he asked in amazement.

"I told you, I don't know." Kjelle said with a hint of frustration at having to repeat herself. "It was a big guy. Like, really big." she explained, holding her arms out from her sides and puffing out her chest in the hope of better conveying the man's absurd size.

Robin's gaze rested on her for a moment, during which time Kjelle could see his confusion. He had evidently not seen the same giant as her.

"This is light magic!" Robin announced with his most passionate voice.

"Isn't that insanely rare?" Kjelle asked, her own surprise muted.

Robin nodded in further fervour. "We're now in possession of a magic thought extinct. Whoever gave this to you deserves high praise!"

"Huh. He seemed nonchalant." Kjelle remarked. She turned to the streets at her back, almost expecting to see the titan of a man again through the din of Ylisstol. "He said that he was a fan, but to gift you forgotten magic is something else entirely."

"Yeah, it is." Robin agreed as he continued to analyse the tome. Kjelle was fond of the way Robin's eyes lit up when he read over the magic. He was absorbed in a world of his own, one without strife. The man's gift was perfect. That fortunate light soon dimmed as Robin sighed and closed the tome. "I'll have to thank this man when I get the chance. As much as I'd like to examine this, we should be making for the port. I'll have enough time to check it out soon enough."

"Let's get to the castle, then. We can pick up the last of our stuff and depart." Kjelle agreed, more ready than him to put the matter of the tome on a backburner. She appreciated the existence of the light tome, and of how it elated Robin, but saw for it no practical use.

Robin nodded and slipped the Book of Naga into another compartment of his cloak. "Let's go. Sorry for freaking out over that."

Kjelle shrugged and began walking toward the castle. She was happy that Robin had become so excited. That light in his eyes was intoxicating. She, too, would have to thank the man for his gift when next they met.

Far from them, on the divide between royal and public grounds, Walhart stood in wait for his lieutenants. Their conquest of Ylisse was near completion. He despised the manner in which he had given away Robin's gift, but was glad to have met with Kjelle all the same. He truly anticipated their coming fight.

Then, after that battle, after all that had strengthened him, Walhart would show the world who deserved to decide its future.


You may be wondering why I was talking before about splitting large chapters up, only for this one to be the (second) largest in the story. That's because I wanted to keep the pacing of this chapter steady. I also wanted to get through everything with the rest of the Shepherds at once. I'm also inconsistent.

There's a weird concept I want to pull off with Walhart where, even though he's going to be strong and is one of the two main antagonists, he's not at some untouchable level. His soldiers are willing to stand up to him for that reason. I like having big over the top dramatic battles, but I still want them to have some kind of grounding and feasibility.

This was supposed to be out a few days ago, but I got caught up on how to break apart the sections. I of course ultimately decided to keep it all in one chapter.

Status: As of 16-06-19, I'm on chapter 36. Much to my regret I've been barely able to work on anything story-wise for the past few weeks. That should be better now, though! I have time to actually get things done!

Thanks for reading!