(A/N: First of all, forgive me for writing Brady so badly. It seems really cringy to me, but it's the only way I can write him semi-accurately. Second of all, "…" in this chapter once again signifies a change in character focus, from Morgan to Lucina.)

If anything else, at least dinners were still the same. Basilio seemed to enjoy talking about past mishaps and Flavia was more than happy to correct him, with Malin joining in as well. The only note Lucina made about her torn shirt and bandages was "I'll explain it later."

It definitely wasn't the best way to respond, but Morgan didn't want to press her for details that she wouldn't otherwise give. Everyone else picked up on his concern quickly, and their attempts at distracting him worked. One of these distractions took the form of Laurent's observations about Marth and Malin.

"I have a few observations I would like to share," Laurent said once the boys were in their shared room and sitting on their respective beds. "They all concern Malin, if no one would find it rude to talk about him when he isn't present."

"Well, there's nothing else to do and it's too early to sleep," Owain replied.

Brady and Morgan gave a murmur of agreement, and Laurent seemed to appreciate their acceptance to hear his theories.

"It comes from an outsider standpoint," Laurent began, "But I've noticed appearance similarities between Malin and Morgan—notably the constant height differences from their respective older sisters, and similar hair colors."

"I can be taller than Lucina!" Morgan protested, looking over at Laurent. "It's not my fault I'm a head shorter."

"Basing it off of averages, you should be about the same height," Laurent replied simply. "But that's not the point here. I was not meaning to criticize how tall you are, but instead finding similarities between you and the mercenary who appears to look like you. Going off of what you've told others about him, you both have a connection to Robin, in addition to your appearance similarities."

"What'cha getting at?" Brady asked. "Morgan has some kind of look-alike? Sounds like bull."

"I'm aware that the proposition seems a bit…illogical," Laurent admitted. "But that is similar to my theory. I read a book—a scholar-written and highly praised book, mind you—on how certain people have another version of themselves, or even multiple versions of themselves, all of which have slightly or largely different lives."

"Scholars mess up sometimes," Morgan reminded him. "And I don't really see that much similarities. There's probably tons of people who are shorter than their older sibling by an inch or five, and his hair is darker and more purple-y than mine. There's a thing called 'seeing things that you want to see, and not necessarily what's there,' you know."

"Laurent isn't making it up," Owain said. "Malin's done some very…Morgan-like stuff. He seems pretty optimistic when you compare him to Marth."

"I still don't see it," Morgan replied, shaking his head. "Not completely, anyway. Aside from that, if Malin was my 'alternate version,' wouldn't that make it possible for Marth to be Lucina's 'alternate version?' That feels like a bit of a stretch."

"Perhaps so," Laurent mused. "But I was merely theorizing. I believe that, for everyone, Malin and Marth were oddly familiar from the first meeting. I just want to understand why, before the opportunity to learn has passed."

Morgan nodded, and he was given a full two minutes before Owain started up a conversation again. He listened in to about half of it, but didn't pay much attention to the rest.

Maybe he was being a bit hypocritical. After all, he told Laurent about seeing things that aren't there, just because you want to be right—isn't that pretty much what Morgan was doing now? There wasn't much reason to think on it too much, though. He could always ask Malin about it after the tournament.

…

Lucina, Kjelle, and Cynthia went to their room not long after the boys went to theirs, and therefore Cynthia was the first to be told about Marth's 'completely random burst of anger,' as Malin put it. Lucina refused Kjelle's offer in changing the bandages, insisting that she could do them herself while Kjelle noted her overall performance.

"It's weird," Kjelle said at some point, "Marth fought a lot like you do when she used a sword. She seemed to be mimicking someone else when she uses a lance, too—like the person who taught her can't see it, so she's doing it in memory of them."

"That's a lot to pick up from one fight," Cynthia noted.

Kjelle just shrugged, beginning to take off the armor she wore while training. "Battle observation and recognizing training habits is something of a talent of mine. But going back to the match itself, what do you think, Lucina?"

"She seemed genuinely willing to cut me down," Lucina said, a bit quieter than she intended. "But as you said, she knew where to attack; she's never seen me fight with other people for an extended amount of time, so she shouldn't know what areas I prioritize. In addition to that, she took advantage of how I guard attacks—she did several fake hits so she could land the actual blow somewhere else. Marth knows something about me, that much is clear. If she would take off her mask, I would know exactly why she seems so…familiar. Her and Malin both."

"Hold on, Luce," Cynthia said. "Don't you think you should hold off on the 'what's behind the mask' mission? If she goes off on you again, you'll have to explain more than a few cuts to your parents when we get back."

"I can't help it if I'm tenacious," Lucina replied simply. "That being said, however, I'm not reckless. I don't want to be on the receiving end on a 'please don't do that again' speech."

"Well, either way, this is a prime chance for improvement," Kjelle said. "You won't get far if you can't defend yourself. There's some armor lying around the Shepherds' garrison; we can stop there on the way back home, and see if I can find something for you to wear. Nothing heavy like mine, but enough to make up for your lack in defenses."

Lucina nodded as her response, and the three of them fell into silence for a bit, until Cynthia was reminded of something Basilio had said earlier.