Chapter 52: Of Swords and Knees
Excellus hated how his face still stung. Scarred as the wound was, it still ached whenever he twisted his lips. Reminding him of the half-blood witch that gave him the wound. But he could use that hate; harness it as he weaved spells. A parchment of paper lay in front of him, the corners stained a dark red.
He'd received this and little else from his benefactors across the sea. It had arrived one late, fog soaked evening as Walhart's forces prepared for battle. The scroll had arrived on dark, silent wings courtesy of an outlander pegasus rider. And had left none the wiser on the nature of his benefactors.
The rider that gave him the message and spell only said there would be eyes upon him, watching the outcome. She'd favored him with a thin lipped smile before climbing back onto her pegasus, the two black shapes vanishing back into the night.
'With this, however… they should be pleased by what they see. I can tap this power.'
In fact, he was just a little unnerved at how easily the spell came to his command. But only a little.
He just finished weaving the spell, when heavy, armor plated footfalls crashed into his hearing. Excellus grabbed the parchment, throwing it into the fire before Walhart could glimpse his workings.
The conqueror clearly hadn't seen anything, as there were no questions asked. Only declarations.
"There's an army at our doorstep." Yet for all that news, the conqueror didn't seem vexed. Excellus merely giggled.
"Oh indeed? Perhaps they're waiting for a welcoming reception? Between our forces and the traps I've laid, I can promise you they won't be bored. It should be quite the spectacle."
"And if I told you the Dynasts were converging on this place as well?"
"Bah; as weak willed as they are, they won't stand for long. Their loyalty is fleeting as leaves against a frost." Walhart only gave a slow nod at that, before turning from the room, back towards the main hall.
"Not staying to watch the events? I can promise you this window oversees everything-" And had a few wards worked into the stones, that he knew Walhart knew nothing about… but the warlord waved off the idea like it had a distasteful smell.
"…I've no wish to rest on my laurels. I united this land with my own hands, and I'll finish this rebellion just the same. Not that I'd expect you to understand such tactics."
Excellus let his breath out through his nose.
"No indeed? Pretty words, considering how much I've accomplished-"
"…And lost. I haven't forgotten the debacle at the volcano. And it seems your face hasn't shed the reminder of that either." Walhart's eyes slid over his scar. Excellus fought to control his seething. "You should pray that your plans hold well against our enemies today. And that you can repay the damages that enemy strategist inflicted on you."
Walhart said little else, vanishing from the doorway. Excellus sneered at him, turning to the table and window again-
Again, his face ached. As did the scar that ill tempered witch gave him.
Just then a restlessness seized him; he HAD to see that wretched girl die, first hand. There wouldn't be much of a risk, he reminded himself; not with the spell charged and ready.
'Though if something unfortunate were to befall our poor conqueror as well as our enemies…'
Excellus found himself eager to follow the emperor, and to see the spectacle unfold.
-o-o-o-
His horse's hooves bit into the turf. A grassy swath lay before him; open ground that the mare was eager to charge across. Frederick held tight to the reins, breathing in deep while he still could. Soon enough the air would be choked with dust, and the green around him trampled down into a worn, torn bare earth remnant.
"Now?" Sumia murmured out, her own mount prancing as they moved forward.
"Wait a moment longer..." his eyes measured the distance. There were the enemy archers, preparing to set up. The distance between them closed just enough that he could glimpse the glint of the sun off steel arrowheads.
"Now." Sumia lifted into the air at his signal, as did the rest of their flyers. He saw the archers lift their eyes to the targets, preparing to fire-
"ARCHERS AND MAGES, LOOSE!" Robin's voice rang out, and on cue a hail of shafts snaked out behind Frederick and over his head. Fire joined them, heating the afternoon air. They cut into the lines, a herald as Frederick spurred his horse forward. He stared down the length of his spear to the first of the foot skirmishers.
"Your last breath approaches," he shot out, right as the fighters recovered from the salvo and stared up to face him. A shudder ran through his arm from the impact of spear against flesh, and he kept charging. The thunder of hooves was joined with a splintering of wood as the spear began to give out.
He let the spear get wrenched from his hand, close to breaking as it was and drew the axe at his side instead. Behind him he heard Sully bellowing out curses and shouts, her sword going to work. Stahl didn't yell as loudly, but the screams told Frederick he was doing his work just as well. Their cavalry drove through the ranks like a wedge, leaving behind chaos and death. Spears and arrows tried to find weakness in him; his armor turned all of it aside, the same with the rest of his cavalry. They continued to smash their way through like a massive mailed fist.
The ranks would be closing behind them soon, though. Frederick knew that; they'd be surrounded...
"How well will you die?" Lon'qu's shout cut through, and Frederick turned his head just enough to see a blurred shape drop a short distance from the sky. They had their rear guard now, courtesy of the pegasus riders. To either end he could see the dynast forces rushing in on the wings of the Valmese forces. Walhart's men were caught up in a pincer maneuver.
They had a chance to win this, he knew. They just had to-
His horse screamed and lurched to the side. A second later he glimpsed baleful red eyes staring up at him. Smoke emitted from the mouth, along with a growling moan. All around him more screams echoed. The Valmese line was collapsing all around him, the soldiers suddenly having to fight a war on more fronts than they could imagine.
Underneath him a dark miasma cloaked the ground. Clawing its way up from the mist was a half rotted hand, and a hooded head pulled itself up from the ground. The fabric was worn thin enough around the eyes for the revenant to stare at him.
"Risen!?" Frederick choked out. The horse sidled away from the revenant, and Frederick cast desperately around him. He found himself seeing the lines of the dynasts breaking apart as well; holding firm in some places, but in others they had to fight off things clawing their way up from the ground.
This battle was nowhere near over. If anything, it had just begun.
-o-o-o-
The sunlight had gone strangely dimmed and strained, like it had half the strength as before. Lucina didn't have time to wonder over the change, instead charging forward to meet the next wave of Valmese.
The new blade in her hands was a familiar stranger. The weight and balance was entirely different, but the edge was still the same sharp thing she was used to. It cut through mail and armor plate the same as before, the glimmer of the gold cross section and hilt a familiar sight.
The blade also still did the job of clearing a path for her. She kept her steps measured, and Morgan shadowed her one step at a time. Her cousin Owain was ahead of her, finally leading his own charge.
'Just as well that he is.' She thought. A familiar ghost of pain was beginning to trace its way along her marked hand. Now it was HER trying to keep her hand under tight control. Lucina gritted her teeth against the pain. She knew exactly what her blood wanted to do.
She promised herself that they'd make their way to the castle gates. Hold it open for the main forces to sweep through and take Walhart on with his surviving retainers en masse. She could handle that much, Lucina told herself-
"LOOK OUT!" A voice screamed from above her. Cynthia cried out just in time for Lucina to whirl around and catch a blade that would have crashed into her skull. She found herself staring into crimson eyes, and a dryness grabbed her throat as she caught the scent of decaying flesh.
"RISEN! THEY'RE ALL AROUND YOU-" Cynthia shouted out, before breaking off and wheeling away. A wyvern tried to close with her, with half rotted wing membranes stirring the air. The pegasus rider darted away, getting into a desperate chase. For a moment it looked like the wyvern would seize her and her pegasus up in its talons-
Only for an arrow to pierce its breast.
"YOU PICKED A WRETCHED TIME TO CRAWL BACK UP FROM THE GRAVE!" Noire's voice snapped out, full of rage and all fear forgotten. Lucina did her best to emulate that, pushing the dry fear back. Now they REALLY had to win this-
'Your mother and father are DEAD, tiny one.' The voice rang mockingly in her head. And as she watched the Risen, her hand ached in time to a stinging trying to cover her eyes. She wasn't going to fall into that memory, no matter how much it haunted her.
And not matter how much of an echo of Grima was in those dead, red eyes.
The Risen lashed out at Ylisse, Resistance, and Valmese alike. The fighting pressed in around her. A sword plunged at her face and Lucina wrenched herself to the side. She hit ground and inhaled a choking black smoke that DID make tears run down her face. Aching pain kept shooting through her hand as Lucina pushed herself back up, eye on the sword blade-
It belonged to a Valmese, still determined to ram the sword through her heart. Lucina brought Falchion up and parried the second blow just in time- and saw an axe hew through the man, sheering his arm clean off at the shoulder. He fell aside with a gurgling scream as an arrow pierced his ribs. Lucina stared up to see another Risen standing behind him, blood dripping from the edge of the blade.
She didn't let the axe fall again, lunging up and piercing the Risen. Falchion still parted undead flesh easily enough, and the Risen dissolved in a blur of black mist and dust. Lucina glanced around as her vision swam, suddenly going sharp and clear. It didn't matter how the miasma clouded her, her gaze could easily pierce it.
And she saw how desperate the fighting was. Robin spun about, and Lucina froze over the red glow she saw in her mother's eyes. A strange purple light flickered around the edges of her robes, drifted in her hair as she turned her head. The purple lines flickered all around her... but her face was masked in concentration. Her mouth opened, yelling out something to Chrom.
-o-o-o-
"We need to cut our way to the castle front NOW! The Valmese on the field aren't our priority any longer!" Robin shouted into his ear. Chrom gave a nod, and plunged his blade into the throat of a Risen. The thing crumbled to the ground, fingers gripping the sword and wrenching it from his grasp. Chrom let it leave his hand, knowing that he wouldn't have much use of it anymore anyway.
When he turned to face Robin, his eye caught on a ripple of something passing over her skin-
Not just over her skin. Sticking to her clothing and hair as well. A strange, faint glow that ghosted over her form, shimmering violet against the magic soaked air.
In the back of his head, a memory of glowing white flames sparked to life. And in his heart, he felt a heat build up and send licks of fire into his blood.
Naga's spell work clearly wasn't through with them yet. And the ambient magic stirred it back to life.
His own skin was pulsing out a blue aura in answer to the threats and spell work. He couldn't afford to dwell on this manifestation… especially not when it came with an extra gift. His body was the lightest it had been in days, his blood humming with eagerness.
Chrom tightened his hand into a fist, and let the change rush over him. He let the scales flow along his limbs, let his back twitch and arch as the wings stretched out behind him like a second cloak, fanning the air and pressing back some of the dark mist.
Some of the shouts stilled around him, a shocked hush taking their place.
When the Risen tried to rush them, he met them with claws open. His talons sliced upwards in an arc, tearing through the half rusted armor and rotted flesh like it was butter. The Risen bled black mist as they fell, and Chrom lunged through the ranks.
When they tried to flank him, Robin was at his side, lashing out with her own claws. Her scales were a near match for the miasma around them. Together, they sprang into the air when a collection of wyverns tried to sweep in on them. They sliced through the wings easily, and with each strike clawed their way further and further up into the sky.
Up in the air he could easily make out the chaos of the battlefield. Risen had sprung up all around the field, and the Valmese were fighting both forces. A group of cavalry were cutting their way towards Virion's squad. But Chrom could see how their swords were still drawn, how the spells were aimed squarely at his own forces.
Valmese foes, then.
Chrom wheeled around and plunged back down towards the troops, a howl tearing its way from his throat. The cavalry horses wheeled and reared in panic from the sound. The lead rider tried to control her horse, only to leave herself wide open, her armor rattling where Chrom smashed into her. The mounted fighter folded underneath his dive, hitting the ground.
Pheros stared up at him, the whites of her eyes showing. Her gaze couldn't decide where it wanted to rest, flickering between the pale wings arching over them, or the scaled hand and claws poised over her throat.
"Naga keep us-" she was whispering out a prayer... whether against him or not, Chrom wasn't sure. Slowly, he drew his talons away from Pheros' throat. She swallowed tight, staring up at him.
"Look around you." The words croaked out from his throat as Robin alighted next to him. A lighting spell crackled from her fingers and slammed into a Risen axe man as he tried to close with them. "The Risen don't care whether you are Resistance or Valmese, Dynast or commoner."
"You don't fool me," Pheros spat out. "You still aim to win this field and take Walhart's head. I've accepted HIM as the ruler of our nations; he has the strength to keep us united. And you wish to fight him."
"...Yes." Chrom admitted. But he wondered, over the hesitation in her words; she still stared at the changes that had swept over him. "So if you want to fight, say the word. Otherwise, I'll leave you to fight for your own life."
She was still staring at him and Robin... and her gaze finally lingered on the brand burning bright blue against his shoulder. Something passed through her face, and he distantly recalled her words of seeing the Exalt herself.
"...Go fight your battle then. I'll choose for myself how I die. And it won't be against your own men." Chrom nodded and turned towards the rest of the fight, eyes on the castle gates. The archers and spell users had all gathered there, ruling out an approach by the sky.
'Unless you want to become a giant target.' His wings folded in around him, Robin doing the same. Just ahead, he could see more of the Shepherds fighting; scattered now and desperately trying to help those who had no experience fighting Risen.
"I see a path through." Robin's voice echoed in his ear. Through the gaps, Chrom's eyes focused on the forward guard of Shepherds; the troops had formed into a circle, long spears holding the Risen at bay while the swords wielders darted forward to inflict wounds where they could.
"We can pick up a few more troops along the way, and still reach the gates if we move fast." He nodded to Robin, and together they prepared to charge.
-o-o-o-
Lucina desperately lashed out; trying to find her way and her family in the chaos. She could at least pick her way towards the edge of the field, where their objective still stood despite all of the chaos unfolding around it.
Her heart was truly pounding hard now, and Lucina grit her teeth against the burn settling along her arm and wrist, or stinging at her eye. She tried to focus only on cutting her way through and nothing else-
A white form blurred by almost under her nose, followed by a violet one. Lucina blinked, and saw Chrom and Robin plunge into the fight against a line of Risen. Lucina's breath hissed out when she saw the changed flesh of her father and mother both.
The two moved something like gods, something like demons with how ruthless their attacks were. And her own blood was singing in time to their strikes. Fatigue fled out of her arms in favor of a beautiful painful heat searing all along muscles and giving them another burst of strength.
When her blade went up and blocked a strike, Lucina saw a glow racing along her sword arm; threadbare at the moment and dim against the sunlight... but trying to grow. It pulsed stronger with each stroke she made, each cut she carved into the ranks.
"Lucina, dodge left- your OTHER left!" She lurched the wrong way under Morgan's voice, and dropped down almost a second too late. Fire blazed past her and slammed into a Valmese soldier and horse, knocking the knight clear from the saddle and leaving the horse wheeling away in a panic.
She grit her teeth, trying to will down the pulsing in her arms. Something in her tried to respond to the flames, only dying when Morgan drew closer. Gules drank up the heat from the flames, leaving Lucina to shiver.
"You're using spell tomes-?" She just managed as she fought her way to her feet. She'd almost dropped the Falchion thanks to the tumble. Morgan reached down to take her hand and help her up; through her gloves she could feel heat sticking to his skin, and her own six eyed mark twitched and throbbed from the contact.
"Gules is doing the job of protecting me; don't worry, Lucina. I told you that I'd watch your back, and I mean to stick to that-" Morgan trailed off. He bit back a curse when a new line of scarlet clad troops rushed towards them. With a mutter he threw his spell book back open, chanting something under his breath.
"Kill the Exalt's brats!" A voice rang out, shrill and angry. With the way the noose of Valmese drew around them, Lucina knew they'd both been marked. Ahead of her, Chrom turned in response to the shout. His eyes went wide when he saw they'd been cut off.
"Kill them, kill them, KILL THEM!" The voice screeched, and at last Lucina realized who was shrieking commands. Morgan didn't look up from his spell work, weaving a wall of fire to try and give the two breathing room. But Lucina lifted her eyes, up from the hypnotic weaving of the flames…
And there was Excellus.
"Tear them apart, and you'll drive their leaders to madness too! We only need their blood to bait a trap for them!" He urged the soldiers. Morgan's spell dimmed around the edges, turning more phantasm than fire. The soldiers slashed at the spell with sword and lance, further fraying his concentration.
Lucina forced her eyes above the fire again, spotting a pocket in the chaos; through was Robin, the violet of her swirling robes snapping like a banner. She'd heard Excellus. Saw what he planned to do-
And with the rage settling across her face, it was clear his plan was already underway. Robin gave a maddened howl, the aura around her snarling and almost eating the wane sunlight. She rushed the line, not waiting for anyone to fall in next to her. Her irises shrunk to pinpricks, and she drove a clawed hand into a soldier's face.
With the strike, another layer of scales grew along her throat, almost twisting her face into a mess of glimmering, violet-black wounds.
"Oh gods…" Lucina choked out. Excellus sneered… though he also took care to keep soldiers between him and Robin. Her mother either didn't notice or didn't care that she was getting outflanked, eyes fixed on Excellus.
And still trying to protect Lucina and her brother. Putting herself in danger for them, because they couldn't keep up.
Robin tore through another soldier, residual lightning charging the air and sending a shiver down Lucina's back. She was about close with Excellus-
A wall of red and white mail collided with her. Robin's teeth parted in a strangled cry, drowned out by the crash of metal. The horse that had stepped into her path didn't so much as flinch from the impact… and neither did the man in red armor, seated atop it.
'That's-'
"…So this is the best the gods can muster, with their blessings?" Walhart's voice was as sharp as the sword he drew. The weapon was rippled and veined with red, like a bloody claw.
"I've crushed better foes in my time." He brought the blade swinging down on Robin's head.
A crash followed, and Chrom gave out a strangled noise. When Lucina blinked, she saw her father standing over Robin, scaled arms crossed to halt the path of the blade.
-o-o-o-
Chrom grit his teeth, locking his arms against the edge of the blade.
'Gods, what is that thing made out of!?' Whatever it was, it was a mark above the usual swords. It ate into his arm and scraped the edge from his scales.
"…Better." There was a grudging almost huff of a laugh in Walhart's voice. He stared down at Chrom, a hint of interest in his eyes. "So we finally draw you so called 'blessed' into the field."
Disgust tinged his voice, and Chrom fought to keep himself from flinching. There was an echo there that he didn't like.
He finally took in the conqueror, and decided immediately that the faint flicker of vision from Naga did the man no justice. Or warn him just how strong of a sword arm the man had… or the weight behind his voice; the man was a ruler, Chrom knew with a lurch in his gut.
"Look beyond you." Walhart's words had the force of a command, and despite himself Chrom looked. The dynasts had hacked their way clear of the Risen… but now stood apart from the battle. He swore he saw Pheros among their number, keeping her own riders at bay. And all of them were waiting. Watching.
"Now they'll see the limits of the past, once your head hits the ground." Walhart continued, forcing Chrom's eyes back.
Robin knelt against the ground, shaking her head back and forth to try and clear it. Chrom simply grit his teeth, throwing his weight against Walhart's strike until the warlord wrenched his blade aside.
"Drawing on such bygone creatures… are you not ashamed?" He slashed once, twice, thrice as he spoke. Chrom's back screamed from the effort of parrying the blows. His wings ached, longing to mantle out-
'And making me a bigger target.' Chrom kept them snapped close to him; though Walhart must have noticed how they pulsed and fluttered. The warlord stared down the edge of his blade at Chrom, measuring him… and finding him wanting.
He'd seen that look before; proud and arrogant, though on a different face.
"You're only the puppet of faded gods. One last feeble gasp of their legacy." Walhart narrowed his eyes at the blood covering Chrom's arm, weeping from the rents he'd slashed in the scales. "…And clearly not much of one. When I kill you, I'll make it clear that we owe nothing to the gods. Not their fates, their destinies… that we bow our heads to no one."
He drew the sword back for a killing strike.
"You know… you remind me of someone." Chrom managed to rasp out, stalling Walhart. "He seemed convinced he was the answer to every problem he saw, too. Just as arrogant as you… and ultimately the same pride-blinded murderer as you."
He spat the last, and rushed Walhart. The wings snapped out and shoved against the ground, letting him leap into the air and crash straight into the conqueror.
-o-o-o-
Walhart's horse gave a shriek as Chrom closed with the warlord. Her father slashed away with both sets of talons, the warlord crashing from the saddle into the ground.
The conflict seemed to freeze around them.
Morgan rushed through his own fire, ignoring how it lashed at his arms, scoured a burn along his shoulder. His priority was reaching Robin, and helping her to her feet.
In the back of her head, six bright crimson lights continued to burn in place of the flames. Walhart drove a mailed fist into Chrom's gut, forcing him off. Chrom lashed out with his claws, and she could see the same light in her head gathering around his arms. The talons barely managed to turn Walhart's strike.
Morgan reached his mother, helping her up, while Robin desperately flung out spell after spell. One of her bolts crashed into Walhart, catching him mid strike… and forcing him to give ground.
'He's lost this battle-' Lucina had time to think… but she also saw something the other three missed, focused as they were on Walhart.
Excellus slipped into spell casting range. The man raised his hands, and a gout of fire spilled out of his palms. It burned through the air, clawing its way on smoke strewn fingers straight towards Chrom.
'NO!' The thought wailed through her head, and Lucina threw herself forward. Her feet churned, and she all but threw herself into the path of the spell. Morgan turned his head at the motion, eyes shooting open in horror. The spell jolted its way towards her heart in place of Chrom's-
She held her hand out, and the spell thudded to a stop against it. Fire lashed along her arm, tearing her sleeves to ribbons... but she felt nothing, save for a hot blaze coming up from her skin. The shredded fabric hung around her arm. For a moment Lucina thought she was looking at the light of Azure reflected on her skin. The next, she knew it was scales; they stopped the spell short, while her claws tightened around the fire and threw it to the ground.
Excellus blanched at that.
"Grima burn it all… soldiers, protect your emperor! Form ranks, and get him back to the castle!"
The fact that Excellus would be taking that as a free transport back to safety wasn't lost on Lucina… but just then the weight of what happened caught up to her, and she couldn't manage anything more than sheathing Falchion.
-o-o-o-
'The dragons are among us again.' Frederick wanted to wheel his horse back around and help Chrom and his family... but the orders stuck in his mind, bitter as they were. Frederick dug his heels into the horse's sides, and she sprung forward.
'They need a path to reach the fortress, and I'll make it for them.' His horse still had wind in her lungs, while his arms found strength to swing his axe. Risen turned to mist against the blade, the corpses going truly dead and still.
He never saw the Valmese arrows until they thudded into him. One stung his cheek as he ducked his head and brought his mailed arm up against them. His horse wasn't so lucky; an arrow caught her in the chest, another thudded in her leg. She broke the charge and crashed to the ground with a pained scream. Frederick could have matched that, his leg between the horse and the ground. He was sure he heard a crunch of bone from the impact. Pain tore through his leg either way, and Frederick bit his teeth around a scream that wanted to work its way out of his throat.
The axe tumbled from his grip in the fall, burying itself blade first in the ground. Frederick uselessly strained, trying to reach his weapon. The tendons on his arm strained, clawed at the earth, but he stayed pinned to the ground. His leg ached when the horse snorted. Her sides heaved and each press from her sides spreading the splinters in his bones.
She couldn't get up, and he couldn't push her off. Trapped under the horse, he heard a drumming of hooves as another horse and rider approached. For a moment, he hoped it was Sully or Stahl. The hope was dashed when he glimpsed the scarlet tabard of a Valmese, more scarlet streamers decorating the spear that was now leveled at his heart.
Frederick stared up at his death, waiting for the spear to strike home.
"Don't trip don't trip DON'TTRIP!" A different sort of battle cry reached his ears, and the sky above was obscured by snowy wings. The pegasus screamed, lashing out against the ground-bound horse with hoof and teeth. The rider brought his spear up a second too late, before a different spear crashed into his chest. The weapon was wrenched loose, tearing the rider along with it and wrenching him from the saddle.
The pegasus landed, sending the horse away with an angry, shrieking neigh.
"Frederick? FREDERICK! Don't you dare die from just that-" Sumia's voice reached his ears, and a familiar face appeared above his own. Her hands gripped at his shoulder, shaking now that the skirmish was done. Around him, Frederick realized that the battle had gone still, most of Valmese broken and running.
…Because just beyond their lines, the Dynasts had settled on a side. They'd regrouped, as was clear in their shouts. And they were pushing those still loyal to Walhart back into the castle, one step and sword slash at a time.
"I- I will live." He had enough presence of mind to say. Sumia let her breath out in a sigh, before turning her attention to his horse.
"There, there... you'll be alright sweetie. Don't struggle and I'll get these arrows out." Sumia whispered as she drew out a vial of healing brew. The make of the glass suggested something expensive… and Frederick didn't feel all that shocked that she was spending it on a horse. Sumia uncorked the potion and poured it over the horse's wounds. With a groan the beast lurched upright. Sumia darted down and pulled Frederick's foot from the stirrup.
The motion sent agony along his knee, and Frederick couldn't keep a pained noise from escaping between his teeth.
"Curse me... I think it's broken." Sumia's face went pale, telling him it wasn't just his imagination that a knee wasn't supposed to twist that way.
"Ah- oh gods, sorry!" She squeaked out; she gave her horror a second to play out across her face. The next she shook her head, banishing the expression. "S-stay on the ground, Frederick. As soon as we can, we're going to get you healed and out of the field. You've done all that you can."
-o-o-o-
Robin's breath froze when he saw Frederick go down. She just picked out Sumia diving to rescue in time. Too many people were getting too close to death.
Ahead she could just glimpse Lucina diving and darting through the ranks, sunlight gleaming off something along her arms.
"I-is that-" Chrom started to say, but shook his head when a shout came up from the Valmese forces; to protect Walhart, and get him back to the castle.
Excellus had joined Walhart and crawled back behind enemy lines, the snake. Lucina had sent him there, and Robin glared at the retreating figure. Her wrist throbbed, and her blood burned hot; she had to keep after him, to make him bleed for everything he'd done-
"Look out!" Chrom's claws caught her by the shoulder, yanking her back where she would have charged forward. Robin bit back a snap, eyes blazing in anger when she glared over her shoulder at Chrom-
But she didn't miss the sudden crackle in the air. Chrom yanked her back another pace, and a bolt of lightning slammed down on the spot Robin had been standing.
Robin blinked blood and battle haze from her eyes, forcing herself to calm down and look.
One last wall of soldiers stood before them. But they were well armed, separate from the battle that had swept like wildfire through the ranks of the others. Any Risen that approached had been cut down by spears and swords... and the ranks still held, fresh and ready for a fight. They hadn't budged once, to come to the aid of their fellows. Robin didn't know whether to feel impressed or completely disgusted.
At the front she picked out a familiar figure. His mustache was trimmed again, and he roared orders for his men to stand. Cervantes' bellowing kept his men well ordered, and unflinching against their enemies.
'Those swords look well sharpened-' Robin had room to think. It seemed they were saving their best troops and weapons for this last line of defense. Past the troops, she swore she saw the red glint of Walhart's armor.
So the conqueror wanted to see how things played out.
They were in for a hard time, when it came to breaking the line. Robin knew that. Her arm ached from the weight of scales, and she glared at the armor.
"Ready to try tearing through?" Chrom asked-
Only for a roar to come up from behind her along with a drumming of hooves. She thought that Frederick's cavalry had exhausted themselves, and whirled around in disbelief.
She wasn't looking at the mottled spectrum of coats that made up Frederick's cavalry. Instead she faced a wall of white horses, the sunlight working its way back up to full strength with the diminishing strength of the Risen. The light glimmered off of their mail and the scarlet touches.
At the front she saw Pheros leading them. Robin grit her teeth and let another burst of magic move through the scales of her arms, giving her strength as she prepared to square against them-
But the valkyries didn't close with her. Or with Chrom, or with any of the Shepherds. They thundered past them, and threw themselves against the wall of Valmese steel. The Valmese shuddered from the shock of the attack, as spells blazed around them and lances flashed out, puncturing the ranks.
Robin glimpsed Pheros pushing her horse forward to close with Cervantes. She was already bleeding from a sword strike, and an arrow hung in her ribs. Her spells easily flew off of her finger tips however, glimmering bright as her blood.
"I will chose how I die."
Robin distantly remembered her words. And how Pheros had stared at Chrom's mark and his changes.
Chrom had halted as well, staring as Pheros locked with Cervantes. She drew up one last spell tome, the symbol brilliant; fire leapt from the pages, hungry and crackling.
"Wh-what is she-?" Robin squinted against the glare of the flames. Chrom had stopped short, a curse jolting its way out of his lips.
The flesh on the two generals acted as kindling as the flames swept over them. The two commanders fell as the spell enveloped them both... but with it, the way was left open.
She saw Walhart, staring at the gap in the lines like it was a personal insult. And Excellus… the flutter of robes drew her eye, a signal flag that he'd elected to retreat into the fortress.
"W-we have to move..." Robin forced herself to say. "I don't... I don't know what motivated her. Maybe she thinks you ARE anointed by Naga after all, or was repaying the debt." Or she couldn't determine who to side with after all, and knew her life was forfeit either way. Robin didn't want to dwell upon it.
Beyond the lines, she saw Walhart retreating into the castle with the last of his guard.
"Quick! Before the gates close!" She urged Chrom on, and they plunged in through the gap of soldiers. She knew that Cordelia was riding hard behind them, as was Stahl. Virion had found his way to their side, and Panne was rushing alongside next to him.
Together, their last remnants made it into the castle, where she knew Walhart would wait to make his last stand. And, she knew... someone else would be there as well. Excellus' laugh echoed in her ears, and Robin narrowed her eyes.
One way or another, they'd finish this.
"Say'ri! Watch our backs and hold the line!" She shouted to the woman beyond them. Say'ri raised her sword in acknowledgment, before leading her men in a charge through the remaining ranks.
Robin took a steadying breath, felt Chrom do the same next to her... but their changes didn't ebb. Robin knew why as well; not with an enemy of theirs left unfought. Their blood wouldn't subside until then.
She looked down at the scales glimmering as they rushed in past the walls. The forces in the courtyard had all withdrawn to make a last stand in the castle itself...
"Mother!" A voice turned her head, and she saw Lucina and Morgan both running to them-
Saw the scales glittering off Lucina's form. The last of her rage evaporated when she saw the splashes of blue, and how Lucina was a near mirror of herself and Chrom.
"Gods-"
"W-we're alright. We aren't lost yet." But she could see concentration marring Lucina's features. Licks of flame were flickering along her shoulders, and an aura of blue continued to pulse so hard it almost hurt to look at her. Morgan was in the same state, one eye half shut... and she saw how his eyes had gone to slits, even if his flesh was unchanged.
"No... but we need to win this battle, and quickly." Chrom spoke for her as he looked at them. His hand reached out, the scales fading on his palm for a moment as he touched Lucina's shoulder.
"I won't tell you to stay back." Robin found herself saying.
'If they're anything like us… the Brands will work the same for them. They won't be allowed rest until this is finished.'
"Good. Because Morgan and I are going to help you win this." The fire and iron was back in Lucina's voice. "Don't even think of trying this without us."
Morgan gave a nod, his smile looking a touched strained… but he still managed to look Robin in the eye.
"Besides… you've spent most of this campaign worrying about us. Why not let us show how far we've come, so you can focus on other things?"
She also couldn't argue with that; neither could Chrom. He gave a helpless, dry chuckle and nodded, turning to face the yawning mouth of the fortress.
Together, they led the charge inside. The shadows of the interior engulfed them... but the bright lights shining off her family kept the worst of the darkness back. They blazed into the interior, cutting a way with their light.
-o-o-o-
His body still burned, his skin barely held together. Duran forced himself forward through a violet tinged miasma, balling his hands into fists. The shadows had swept over him once he'd agreed to the pact, and snatched away the sensation of broken bones and entangled tree branches. Instead he'd floated, wounds mending. For how long, he didn't know… but finally, his feet were set on the ground.
And his blood burned, driving his feet to move.
The voice from before had gone silent. But he could feel a red light shining on his back, sealing up the last of his wounds. Smoke bled off the remaining gashes, the flesh closing up. When the last cut sealed, the miasma thinned.
"You have your mission. Go and fulfill it."
The voice parted with one last whisper, taking the smoke and mist with it.
Duran blinked, eyes taking in his new surroundings. A stone passage surrounded him, the walls turning into a tall, arched ceiling. Red carpet cushioned his steps, stretching down the entire passage. No light came in, windows shuttered or absent entirely; only the wane glow from candles remained.
He'd walked this hallway before, Duran knew.
'Walhart's stronghold.'
The passage he walked was still and deserted… but at end of the hallway came an echo. The ring of steel, shouts, and pained shrieks and groans. The noises were more homelike to him than anything he'd encountered on this continent, and urged Duran forward.
Duran narrowed his eyes, to better focus on the sounds. He kept his steps light, moving almost like a shadow through the stone passages. His lips parted, showing his teeth and shaping into a grin. He sped his steps a little more, hardly able to wait for what lay in front of him.
Battle. Blood. And a promise from that dark voice, of victory for him and him alone.
