Robin turned the blade over in his hand, inspecting the twisted, electrified metal and the purple-black gem inlaid in its guard. Parallel Fulmen, the sword Grima saw fit to travel back in time with, and the weapon that had been used to murder one of his closest friends. Robin's hands trembled uncontrollably while holding the ungodly sword. He couldn't tell if it was because of the power within the weapon or from what he was going to do with it.
A tome sat upon the perishable table Robin had set-up within his command tent. On its own, it was simply Thoron. Powerful lightning magic, yes, but many had the ability to cast it, such as Miriel or Laurent. Robin, however, had discovered something during the Valmese War. It was an experiment back then, and with it he had nearly singlehandedly cracked the walls of a city like a walnut. He had been tinkering with this new magic, trying to understand it. However, that stopped when Chrom had need of Sable. Perhaps it was luck that Chrom had stripped Parallel Fulmen from Grima's grasp, but it wasn't something Robin was going to let lie. With it now with him, he could perform it again.
Robin didn't want a chance of Grima surviving a blast. The Fell Dragon was resilient, if nothing else. As proven when he took multiple blows from both he and Chrom. With the use of the unnamed magic, he would ensure that Grima would be gone for good. If Robin was to die in the process, so be it. If he came back, then even better.
Rubbing his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose, Robin groaned. He'd do anything to finally be free of Grima's yoke. He would have done anything to simply live with the family he had finally acquired. If that was not meant to be, however, and he never came back, Robin would accept it. His hands were dirty, covered with filth, and killing Grima once and for all seemed to be the only way in his mind that they could ever be cleaned.
"Are you enjoying that?" A voice said from the entrance to his tent. A voice Robin knew all too well. He couldn't help but smile lightly upon hearing it. "It is only a scarce few hours until we are to end this once and for all. I would have thought you'd be sleeping."
Robin looked up to see Tiki in all her beauty. Even in the darkness, she was stunning. Her green hair reflected the light of the small lantern in his tent, and her eyes almost seemed to glow as she studied him.
"You know that I struggle to sleep at the best of times," Robin chuckled, standing up straight and walking around the table. "This could be the last night I ever experience, after all. If I'm about to sleep for the rest of time, why do so now?"
"If you're trying to be funny or clever, it isn't working," Tiki replied grimly, walking up to him. "I certainly don't find it humorous. A person I love is about to die."
Robin looked down, feeling shame claw away at him. "I'm sorry," He said quietly, turning around to focus on Parallel Fulmen. Anything to get rid of those hideous emotions. "I'm sorry about what I'm about to do, Tiki. I really am. But I can't just let him get away with it. He's taken too much. He almost took…" Robin shook his head. "I refuse to let him get away with it. I'll erase him from existence. Even if I go along with him."
"You're angry," Tiki said softly. Robin heard her approach him from behind. "No, you're furious. Alexander's death affected you more than anyone else knows, didn't it? Even if he came back, that pain and hatred did not simply ebb away, did it?"
Robin stood still for a moment before shaking his head. He felt Tiki's arms wrap around his waist as she placed her head on his shoulder. Robin felt his spine tingle, feeling her breath upon his ear and neck. "Not just him," Robin said, "Frederick, too. And Nah and Nowi. They all died because of him. Perhaps some of the blame lies upon my shoulders; I should have been smarter. I should have been better."
"The fact that any of the Shepherds have survived this long is not just because of their ability in battle," Tiki whispered, "It is because of your tactics and your leadership. If Chrom is the heart of the Shepherds, then you are the brains. I have seen this dynamic before, but then, the world was not in danger of ending. It is okay to feel these emotions, Robin. I envy that about you. I feel sometimes that I have grown too numb to death to truly feel anything such as what you are now."
Robin turned his head slightly to look Tiki in the eye. "Do you truly believe that?" He asked, "Maybe it's true. I don't know. I haven't talked with it to most of the Shepherds. The fact that I will die if I strike the final blow against Grima. No doubt most of them would object. The only ones I have discussed it at length with are you, Chrom, and Alex."
"Alex knows far more than someone of his station should," Tiki noted, "But that is not my business. I will support you, Robin. I have since the day we met, and I will not stop now. I wish I could keep you forever. This past year has given me memories that will last the rest of my life, along with a daughter I could only dream of having before. I only ask that you keep us in your mind when you travel beyond this world."
Robin let out a shuddering breath before Tiki moved her head forward and pressed her lips against his. It was a light, chaste kiss, but one that Robin would never forget. He never wanted that moment to end. But, like all things, its end came when someone barged in.
"Father!" Morgan shouted, marching into the tent, "Don't you dare!"
Robin and Tiki separated while the former stared at his rampaging daughter sheepishly. "Morgan-!"
"What were you talking about!?" Morgan asked angrily, standing right in front of the white-haired tactician. "You're going to… to do what? No, you're not dying. I just met you! You can't just go a-and leave me like that! Not again! I just got you back and you're saying you're going to-!?"
"Morgan, please!" Robin exclaimed, placing his hands on his daughter's shoulders. He looked at her, eyes pleading. "Please, just… Gods, had I known- Were you standing outside? This entire time?"
Morgan blinked, the rage suddenly leaving her as she looked down at her feet. "I… Yes, I was. I just wanted to hang out with you before we went into the next battle, but then I heard you and mother talking about these horrible things and I just-!"
"Morgan," Robin said quietly, patting her head delicately. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this. Some father I ended up being, hmm? And Alex was the one who was scared that he would be a bad father."
"Don't say things like that," Morgan said, "Please. You're not a bad father! You taught me everything I know about tactics and strategy! I even got a coat like yours! You'll always be number one in my book, father! I just want to know, why? Why would you…?"
"Grima needs to be stopped," Robin replied, eyes downcast. "And if I kill him, he will be destroyed permanently. But he and I are one and the same, really; it'd essentially be suicide. I'll save a thousand generations, but at the ultimate cost."
"B-But…!" Morgan whimpered, wiping at her face. "You can't! There has to be some other way. Some other strategy we can employ! Please, don't leave me! Not again!"
"Morgan," Tiki said, stepping forward. "Please, let your father explain. In fact, I have a feeling… something you have been hiding from us. Care to explain, Robin?"
Robin looked to Tiki, completely unsurprised. He pursed his lips before he spoke, "You're right about Alex, Tiki. He does know more than he lets on. His knowledge stopped being helpful a long time ago, but occasionally he'd give me small tidbits that were relevant. I shouldn't be telling you this but, gods, you deserve to know this part the most. He told me that it would be possible for me to come back. That the bonds I have forged with you and the rest of the Shepherds might be enough to bring me back."
"And so two would cheat death," Tiki hummed, "Yes, I can see that being a possibility, but…"
Robin shrugged. "There's no guarantee, obviously. I won't go into much detail; gods know I've already betrayed his trust by just telling you this much, but there's a possibility. I suppose I didn't tell you until now because I didn't want to get your hopes up."
"Hope is all we have, Robin," Tiki replied, "Nonetheless, this is something. I'm not sure how long I will sleep after this battle. I am already awake on borrowed time as it is. But know that I will wait for however long it takes for you to return. I give you my word."
Tiki grasped Robin's hand tightly, and Robin returned her affection with a squeeze. Morgan stood still, her lips trembling as she looked at her father with watery eyes. "Mother will be gone, too? But… I just want…"
Robin cursed himself. He cursed himself for what he was going to do and what effect it would have on his recently-gained family and he cursed himself for what Morgan was going through. No child should have to see their father sacrifice themselves for the greater good. He couldn't let Grima go, though. The Fell Dragon should not live to torment another, future generation. There was no guarantee that the next time would result in his final defeat.
"Morgan, I'm sorry," Robin said quietly, "You don't have to forgive me for this. I know I certainly never will. I just hope that you understand. But if you don't, then-"
"Father!" Morgan shot forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Robin. He felt the air crushed out of him as he reflexively hugged Morgan back. The half-manakete was outright bawling and Robin could feel the tears through his clothes. "I could never hate you! Never! Just… please, please promise that you'll come back! Please!"
Robin looked over to Tiki, who smiled and nodded. He knew what promises could lead to; Cordelia's anguished wails echoed through his mind. Yet, when he looked down at his sobbing daughter, he couldn't bring himself to tell the hard truth. That there was no true guarantee that this wouldn't be the final time they would have a chance to speak. There was so much Robin wanted to do with Morgan; discuss tactics, kiss her goodnight, embrace her when the world grew too much. Maybe he would get that chance, maybe he wouldn't, but the hard truth was not meant for that moment.
It was to that end that Robin fully embraced Morgan and whispered, "I promise."
Then again, promises were meant to be broken, Robin idly noted as he held his crying daughter in his arms for what might have been the final time.
Severa checked, double checked, and triple checked that she had everything. She wore gambeson with plate mail greaves and gauntlets, enough to protect her if anything truly went awry, but free enough that she had full range of motion. How her father felt so comfortable in full plate, she'd never know, but that wasn't something she was going to focus on. She sharpened her sword, a silver one more powerful than anything she'd ever wielded before save for her father's own blade. Still, that didn't mean it couldn't use improvement. Everything could use improvement, and she was a prime example.
She was a lot stronger than she used to be. Stronger than him? Maybe. There was only one way to find out.
That was Severa's plan, after all. She couldn't set him free if she wasn't better than him. It wasn't just her being competitive like it usually was; she wasn't going to wait for Grima's defeat for her father to be freed from his torment. The things Grima said to her while she was held captive still echoed in her mind.
"Severa."
Ah, there she was. Severa huffed as she turned around to see Lucina approach her. The blue-haired princess just had to stick her nose in other people's business, didn't she? She always had, ever since they'd met. Severa crossed her arms as she openly scowled at the woman.
"You know, you and my dad are a lot alike. Both of you just say people's names as a greeting when you're awkward about what you're gonna say," Severa pointed out, tapping her foot. "Well? Out with it. I can't wait to hear this lecture."
"What lecture?" Lucina asked, genuinely curious before shaking her head. "I only wished to speak with you before the coming battle. But now I see you preparing for it. Although I find myself wondering what, exactly, you are preparing for."
"None of your business, that's what," Severa snapped, sheathing her sword and looking to the sky. "I've got a job to do."
"If that is the case, then why are you refusing our aid?" Lucina asked pointedly.
Severa shrugged. "Who said I was refusing help? I certainly didn't."
"You have not told anyone what you plan to do when the battle begins," Lucina explained, her brows furrowed. "You have been quiet. Very quiet. I know that your time in Ylisstol was not one anyone would want to experience, but it is clear that it has affected you much. I just want to help you, Severa. We all do. But we can't do that if you continuously refuse to approach anyone or accept aid when it is offered."
Severa's lips thinned as she tried to keep her mounting anger in check. "What in the seven hells are you even talking about? Actually, nevermind. You wanna know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna do something only I can. And I gotta do it alone."
"But why?" Lucina pressed, stepping forward. "Why must you do it alone? If you would only tell us, we would help you!"
"I don't want your gawddamned help!" Severa snarled, "Don't you know I'm doing this for your own good? I'm trying to keep you all from being eviscerated! Only I have a chance against him! I don't want you or anyone else getting in the way. Am I clear!?"
Severa watched as Lucina's stance became more relaxed. She blinked, going over what she just said in her head and tried to keep herself from sneering when she realized what she gave away.
"You're going to challenge him, aren't you?" Lucina asked simply, crossing her own arms. "You're going to challenge him. Verrat."
"Don't call him that," Severa demanded. "That's not his fucking name and you know it."
"How much of Sir Alexander do you think still resides in him?" Lucina asked quietly, looking down. "Were it my choice, I would do the same as you. But I need to be beside my own father's side during this final battle."
"Enough for me to try and let him loose," Severa muttered, "He deserves that much, at least."
Grima's words echoed within Severa's mind again.
He did love you, you know. Loved you more than any father I have ever seen. But he could not let it show, not while there were thousands of my minions surrounding you on all sides. He wanted to protect you. Protect everyone else. How ironic it is that all he could do to that end was destroy. Those words you said to him on the eve of your departure tore his heart out. It made it all the easier to twist him into the monster you see now. All too easy.
Severa couldn't remember much as Grima's fingers wrapped around her throat, but she could remember that. Those words had haunted her since then. Perhaps it was a form of atonement. Maybe finally she would be free herself when her father finally was released from his torturous existence.
"Do you get why I've gotta do this on my own?" Severa whispered, turning around and looking up to see the tattered spire of the Dragon's Table swirling with black miasma. "If there's anything left of him in there, I gotta let it go. I'm the only one who can do that. Do you remember how he reacted when he saw me, back during the final battle of the Valmese War? Maybe, just maybe, if I can reach him, he'll finally be free."
"And you as well," Lucina replied, "Will you be free?"
Severa pursed her lips and shrugged. "I don't know," She admitted freely, "But I'm not just gonna let him suffer any longer. I don't know what will happen to him when Grima's destroyed, but I don't wanna wait that long. I know he'll look for me if I make myself a target. Hell, maybe it'll make it easier for you guys to storm the Dragon's Table. Just, please, understand, I've gotta do this. For both me and him."
Lucina nodded. "I understand."
"Listen, I know it's gonna be- What?" Severa blinked. "What did you say?"
"I understand, Severa," Lucina reiterated with a small smile, "I wish you would accept help, but I know that stubbornness all too well. I don't believe anything will be able to turn you from this path, and if it should be one you wish to walk, so be it. We all make our own destinies from this point onward. We are not the pawns of some unseen fate anymore; we are our own people, and what you do with your life is not something I should force upon you."
Severa looked down at the sandy floor, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders.
"I only ask that you return alive," Lucina continued, placing a hand on Severa's shoulder. "I would rather not lose any more comrades to Grima than we already have. I fear what that would do to me."
"Since when have you ever had to worry whether or not I'd come back alive?" Severa smirked. "I'm not just some kid who hasn't even used a sword anymore, you know. Mom and dad praise me all the time."
"And they are right to. You are a near-peerless warrior," Lucina said softly, "Still I wish you to remain safe all the same."
Severa shook her head. "I'll be fine, Lucy. I always am. You better take care of yourself too, you hear me? I'd never forgive you if you died."
Lucina chuckled lightly. "I suppose you never would, would you? I'll need to keep that in mind during the battle."
It was nice to discuss less-depressing crap, as far as Severa was concerned. Of course, things like that never lasted. Soon, she and her father would meet for the final time. They would both be freed.
Off in the distance, the Dragon's Table continued to stir menacingly.
"Are you ready, Robin?" Chrom asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be, Chrom," Robin replied.
They stood upon a sand and ruin filled battlefield. In the distance swarmed the Fell Dragon's forces, ready to make their final stand. Robin couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu as he stood there, Parallel Fulmen in hand and Thoron upon his belt. Once the battle began, they were to make a beeline for the entrance to the Dragon's Table, fight Grima there, and slay him. Simple and easy on paper, but their intel on the inside was sparse, to say the least. The battle could go either way once they entered.
By Chrom's side also stood Lucina, and at Robin's were Tiki and Morgan. They were all ready to bring their full might against Grima. If one of them fell, the others could still certainly put the Fell Dragon in its place, should it come to it. Robin prayed that that would not be the case. Even more so, he prayed for the soldiers and Shepherds that would be holding the Risen off as they made a break for the entrance. Hopefully it would not last long, but knowing how strategies in wars usually went, anything was possible.
With one final breath, Robin awaited Chrom's order.
Robin saw Chrom unsheathe Falchion. His skin prickled just at the mere sight of the holy, awakened blade. Another reminder of his lineage that would soon be erased. Chrom's words rang hollowly in Robin's ears.
"Shepherds! Soldiers of Ylisse and Regna Ferox! Warriors of Chon'sin and Rosanne and Valm! Charge! The Fell Dragon will meet his end today! For the fallen!"
Chrom's shouts galvanized the men, and he was sure he could pick out Alex's voice thundering with them. He only had a few moments to think about that before they charged. It wasn't too long ago that Robin would never be able to keep up with the rest; his body was always weak, it felt like, even with the endurance training he had with Alex. But then, it was like he was electrified. His legs moved with a speed he barely knew himself capable of possessing. When they clashed with the Risen horde, Robin did so with a volley of lightning so fierce he even surprised himself.
Alongside Chrom, whose Falchion glowed as it struck down Risen after Risen, turning them into nothing but dust, Robin did the same. He protected Tiki and Morgan as they traveled through the Risen's ranks. Parallel Fulmen followed his every command, cutting and slicing and electrocuting any undead that stood in his way. He blackened their bodies with the dark lightning that flowed from his sword. Lucina fell in line with her father, covering his back as they made their way into the entrance.
Just as Robin planned, the bulk of the Risen horde fought with their army. He could hear the sounds of the battle ferociously being fought even as they descended into the Dragon's Table. His final thoughts before he followed the others were to pray that there would still be friends to celebrate with if she ever returned. As it stood, the Dragon's Table was a horrible place to spend his last moments.
He felt claustrophobic as he descended further, feeling as if the walls would collapse in on him and the others if he let it. They had a quality to them he couldn't quote place, just that they felt as if they were leaning in, like an overprotective parent.
Soon enough, there weren't even stragglers to challenge them. It was strange, Robin though. He would have expected Verrat to either follow them or try to fight them to buy his master time. Robin was glad that he was not there, obviously, but he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the Deadlord.
Don't worry. We'll free you soon, old friend.
It wasn't hard to find the source of the power that had darkened the world. Great doors long since torn of their hinges greeted them as the center of the towering spire revealed itself to them. Red energy gathered towards the back of the massive chambers. Ancient stone columns lined the room, keeping the ceiling from collapsing under the massive weight. There, towards the back, Robin could make out the form of Grima, hunched over as if sick. He had regained his human form, the one that looked so much like him, but Robin was prepared if the Fell Dragon transformed into that hideous dragon form again.
"Grima!" Chrom shouted, drawing closer with Falchion pointed at the Fell Dragon. "Worm! We have come for you!"
Grima did not move. Not an inch. His body stood as still as a statue for several moments as Chrom's words echoed within the hollow hall. Then, all at once, he slammed his fist into the altar he had been standing at, shattering the image of a dragon which stood there. An animalistic snarl loosed from the vessel as it screamed, "Verrat! How dare you!? Where are you!?"
Finally, the Fell Dragon turned. He was garbed in the usual coat Robin always wore, but how he came upon it, he didn't know. Grima's – his – face was sullen, with sunken, piercing red eyes and ash-white hair. It wasn't until that moment that Robin realized that his right arm was still missing. Grima backed up as Chrom and the others approached, weapons ready.
"Damn you all!" Grima snarled, scrambling around the broken altar. "Damn you! Just a day or two, and I would have…! I will devour your souls! I will disembowel you and leave you bleeding in the sunlight, as the vultures feast upon your organs!"
"It's over, Grima," Lucina stated, her Falchion shining with blue light. "You will be slain this day, and the world will finally be free of your corruption and influence!"
"Foolish girl!" Grima spat, "I will never end! My body may crumble and fade away, but I have no end! As long as darkness curls around the hearts of men, I will always exist! You humans… you age. You wither and die. And yet you do not grasp the nature of your own suffering! I would have brought an end to it!"
"Silence!" Robin roared suddenly, sending a volley of lightning towards the Fell Dragon. It struck Grima in the chest, and he smashed into the wall behind him, creating a small crater. He coughed and fell to his knees, moving forward until his body leaned against the altar. "I refuse to listen to a single word more! Your time ends here, Grima!"
"My vessel," Grima whispered, "You held such promise. Why cast your lot in with these mere servants? I would have granted you godhood! We would have created a perfect world, together! Why would you cast yourself in with that wretched child of Naga!?"
"Opposites attract, as they say," Tiki said.
Robin sent another blast of lightning, but Grima was able to avoid it, just barely. His body laid out on the ground, Grima rose and placed himself directly on the altar as the others moved in.
"So be it. This opens a loophole, but if there is no other way, then let it be so!" Grima growled as purple, cascading energy surrounded him. "Say farewell to your companions, Robin! Greet the future you left behind, Lucina! It has come roaring back! I return!"
They couldn't reach him in time before shockwaves tore from Grima and his altar. Robin knew what was happening, but in that moment, he was powerless to stop it.
He's using himself as a catalyst.
Laughter replaced Grima's roars as the air grew dimmer. Robin could feel a presence surrounding the spire as he heard wings beat in the air.
Morgan and Tiki entered their dragon forms as the shadow of Grima descended upon the Dragon's Table.
Severa had certainly made a mess. When she descended into the ruins that surrounded the Dragon's Table, scores of Risen fell to her. She had never been as ferocious in the future. Sure, she could have taken on a dozen Risen, if left to her own devices, but if more had joined the fray she would have needed back-up.
Instead, as her sword cut through the Risen that dared bare their fangs at her, Severa found herself almost growing bored. Not in the usual way, and she knew if she were to lose focus for even a moment, she would be gutted and left for dead. Thankfully, the usual calm that seemed to permeate her senses whenever she entered battle took hold. She was entirely focused on drawing as much attention to herself as was possible.
It was working, too. Severa could feel him, drawing closer. That familiar stare that always seemed to see through everything and everyone. They had been green, then. After what Grima had done to him, though, everything about him had become wrong. His face when his helmet had been dislodged still sent shivers down her spine. Nobody should have gone through what he did, let alone her own father.
Did she mean those words, back then? What she had said to him before they fell into the portal into the past? It had been so long, she couldn't even remember exactly what she had said. Perhaps it didn't matter. Not anymore. What mattered was that she would make it right.
The clanking of armor across the desert drew her attention away from the Risen, who stopped trying to fight her and backed off. Verrat's eyes glowed ominously through the haze and darkness as the Risen completely drew back.
"Severa," The Deadlord said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
"Dad," Severa greeted back, her sword at her side.
The Deadlord looked around at the retreating Risen, some amount of pride evident as he spoke, "They no longer wish to attack you. How odd. I wouldn't have allowed them to the moment I saw you carve a bloody swath through their ranks, but it is interesting all the same."
"I'm full of surprises," Severa replied, twirling her sword in her hand. "Now, are we gonna do this, or what?"
"You wish to fight me," The Deadlord stated, "You will gain nothing from it, Severa. Should you raise your sword against me, I will not be able to hold back."
"I wasn't expecting you to," Severa said easily, pointing her sword forward. "The longer I keep you busy, the longer the others have to get through that giant-ass army."
"Is that your plan?" Verrat asked, "You've learned much in your time in the past, it seems. It was not so long ago that I had to watch your back to make sure you did not charge into Risen onslaughts all on your own."
"You used to do it all the time, dad," Severa pointed out, "And I just did it a minute ago. Hell, maybe I can even beat you now. Let's give it a try, huh?"
Wordlessly, Verrat drew Requiem. The blade sang as it was unsheathed from its scabbard. "I never wanted this for you, Severa. I never wanted you to be like me."
"You didn't stop it, did you?" Severa asked bitterly.
Verrat's gaze drifted downward, contemplating. "…No. No, I did not. That is my failure."
"Stop talking and fight me, damnit!" Severa snarled. "If you won't, then I will!"
With a final battle cry, Severa charged. Her sword clashed against Requiem, sending a cascade of sparks to the ground. Verrat blocked her blow for blow, as if he was testing her. Severa, on the other hand, did not let up on her onslaught. She smashed and slashed her sword against Verrat's, so much that even if Verrat wanted to fight back, he never had an opening.
The Deadlord was pushed back, straight towards the Dragon's Table. Severa continued to fight her father with all the ferocity she could muster, ensuring that he wouldn't be caught dead anywhere else. She could tell he was holding back, despite his words. A part of her sensed that the instant the fight began, and as she clashed with his sword once more, she gritted her teeth. She pressed harder, trying to get him to do something, anything. It was like he wasn't even trying!
"Impressive," Verrat intoned, "Most impressive. Your form is impeccable."
"Shut up!" Severa growled, her sword slamming forward as Verrat sidestepped. It crashed harmlessly against a ruined wall as she spun around, keeping her focus on her father. "Stop talking and fight! You said you wouldn't hold back but you are! I can tell!"
"I don't-!"
Verrat didn't have time to finish his sentence before he was forced into a defensive posture again. Severa just kept pushing him farther and farther. They were among the ruins, then, close to the entrance of the Dragon's Table. In between vicious bouts, Severa thought she could make out a sound within the ruined spire itself, but she was too focused on her fight with Verrat to care.
Verrat roared as Severa's blade finally struck flesh. A small hole in his armor opened as he leaped back. Faint, black blood spilled onto the floor.
"Incredible…" Verrat breathed out, "If she could see you now…"
"Why are you still talking!?" Severa snapped, not allowing Verrat to move before her blade connected with his side. Another spray of blood splattered against the ruined walls as Verrat took a step back. "And don't you dare say that! Never say that! You don't get to!"
"You're right, I don't," Verrat admitted, his rumbling tone somehow feeling soft, "Not after all that I have done. Not after what I have done to you. Your mother would despise me were she here, and I cannot blame her. This… This is my punishment, Severa."
"No," Severa shook her head, feeling sweat pour down her brow, "No, no it's not. This is Grima's fault. And I'm done letting him have his way with you. I left you once; I won't do it again. I'm going to free you."
"…That is your true goal, is it not?" Verrat asked quietly, "You… I do not deserve such mercy, Severa."
"I don't care!" Severa shouted, running forward. "I'm gonna do it anyway! C'mere!"
Verrat parried Severa's massive blow and swung upwards. Severa only barely managed to escape that strike, which then slammed against the wall and sent debris and dust everywhere. Verrat stopped simply defending and took a more active role, using his overwhelming strength against the red-headed warrior. Anything in their path was either completely destroyed or ruined beyond all recognition. The last remnants of a family never made fought each other just outside the end of the world.
Severa backed up through an archway as Verrat swung downward, and said archway crumbled into dust like so many of the other structures they fought through. Severa was beginning to feel the pain, the aches. Her body wasn't failing her yet, but she could not weather Verrat's attack forever. She needed something to turn the tide, and when she turned around, she saw an opportunity.
Backing up, Severa kept her blue eyes focused on the armored Deadlord. He slowly approached her, his black plate armor clanking with each step.
"You were right. I was holding back," Verrat snarled, "But I cannot do so forever. The insect that crawls in my skull wants blood. Grima wants blood, and I cannot deny it for much longer. Leave! While you still can!"
"Never!" Severa shouted back, "I told you already! I'm never leaving you again!"
Verrat stood still, until his entire body began to shake. The eyes behind the visor grew brighter until they focused solely on her. Verrat roared, a noise Severa had heard in her dreams so many times before. Verrat charged, Requiem ready to skewer the only family that had survived the end of the world.
"Then you will die!"
With a massive overhead slash, Verrat found himself face to face with the chasm that led further into the Dragon's Table. With a single sidestep, Severa swung her sword upward, catching Verrat by the helmet and flinging it over the edge. She had to keep herself from screaming at the sight of her father's mangled and purple face. It was just another testament to what had been done to him. Something she would undo. Severa kicked, and Verrat toppled into the darkness, his red, glowing eyes never leaving Severa's until she heard the sickening sound of metal plates scraping against stone. Verrat's eyes disappeared.
Severa looked over the entrance into the Dragon's Table and felt trepidation nearly overtake her. She had a job to do, though, and she'd be damned before she left it half-finished. It was with that thought in mind that she made her way down the entrance, descending into the depths of the tattered spire.
The farther she went, the darker it became. The walls themselves seemed to lean in on her, as if watching her every move. Severa could feel Verrat there with her, but he refused to show himself. She scoffed to herself when she realized all he had to do to blend in was close his eyes. Even then, she went further, looking around cautiously while she waited for her father to make his move.
When he did, she was ready.
In an instant, red filled her vision as Requiem lunged forward from the shadows. Severa could see his eyes, glowing within the darkness, looking as if they were still silently pleading with her to escape. She couldn't leave, though. She wouldn't run away like she used to. This was her fight, and she would see it through to the end.
With great, sweeping strokes, Verrat pushed her further into the entrance. Severa held her own, but it was clear to her that whatever was holding Verrat back no longer was; his sword strikes easily cracked the walls and pulverized the stone that surrounded them. It took every ounce of strength in her body to keep herself from being cut in twain. After a minute or two, however, Verrat stopped. His body froze in place like a statue as Severa saw his eyes look up.
"He's awake," He stated emotionlessly.
"What? The hell are you talking about?" Severa spat, "If you're trying to stall me, it's not gonna-!"
"Listen," Verrat interrupted simply.
Begrudgingly, Severa did so, and she felt her blood run cold as the walls themselves seemed to shake, and a roar so familiar yet so alien swept across the land. She could already imagine it. The Fell Dragon's wings on the wind, its gaping maw looking upon her friends, her family. It was nightmarish.
"He is desperate," Verrat said, his gaze refocusing on Severa. "His life is now tethered to that of his twin. Should Robin deal the final blow now, then he will cease to exist in both timelines. This is a good sign, Severa. The end is drawing near."
"And what will happen to you?" Severa asked pointedly, "You were right; the entire reason I came here was to free you. What'll happen when Grima dies?"
She pursed her lips as Verrat shrugged. "I don't know, but you are going to have to work harder than this if you wish to strike me down."
Severa gasped as Verrat's sword swung downwards and sent chunks of rock scattering everywhere, and she threw herself back into combat with the Deadlord.
They were too focused on each other to see where they were approaching. With each swing of their swords, with each spark that was extinguished upon the ground, they drew closer and closer to the true final battle, waiting behind them.
Verrat's sword glowed with pale light as it was swung again and again, and Severa could barely keep up. She needed cover; she wouldn't last much longer if she faced the brunt of his onslaught head-on like she was. She was pushed back until she could hear the sound of magic and torn stone falling to the ground. She spared a glance behind her and nearly balked at what was happening.
Two dragons flew through the air, concentrating their fire on a single target, all the while it fought with Chrom and Lucina, their Falchions flying through the air with speed and force unlike anything she had ever seen. Chrom got a punch in, causing the vessel to stagger backward as Grima's true body flailed about above. Robin stood nearby, firing volley after volley of dark lightning at the vessel they were fighting, all the while casting aside whatever came his way with difficulty.
Severa and Verrat had stumbled into the final battle. A place where they had no business being in. Yet all the same, Verrat did not let up. Despite the rancor that surrounded them, Severa kept her ground. Perhaps she could turn the tide there.
She spotted the columns that dotted the main chamber, and she had her plan.
As the battle around them raged on, Severa took the small opening she was granted and ducked under Verrat's outstretched arm. She sliced her blade through his other side as she ran, causing the Deadlord to snarl and rage and swipe at her. It didn't reach her, and with the time she had, she hid behind a pillar. Verrat attempted to circle around it, but every time he did, Severa would reposition herself. Growling in anger, Verrat simply slammed Requiem through the offending object, but through the clouds of dust that resulted, Severa stabbed him through his right arm.
That song and dance continued three times, Verrat either too angry or too focused on Severa to realize what he was doing. By the time he smashed through the third pillar, Severa took a few steps back. No longer trying to hide.
Verrat was injured, even for a Deadlord, and as one of the dragon's that fought Grima's vessel tumbled through the air and smashed against a wall, only to get up again, black blood oozed from his damaged lips.
Severa only smirked and pointed upwards. Before Verrat could even react, stone fell upon him from above, smashing him into the ground. Dust clouded the air around Severa as she counted the seconds, waiting to see if Verrat survived.
The battle nearby seemed so distant as she stared unblinking at the pile of rubble.
A solid iron hand burst from the stone as Severa growled. Verrat dragged himself out of the pile of rubble, his black armor broken and dented, but Requiem was still in his grasp. That didn't matter much when he barely felt as if he could lift it. Nonetheless, he charged forward with every bit of strength he had left.
Severa's earlier actions paid off, and the Deadlord's strikes were far more manageable. She may have been exhausted, but that was no matter. It was clear who was winning.
After the first few blows, Verrat found himself on the defensive again. Severa's slashes were too much for him to handle in his weakened state, and soon, he found himself leaning against one of the few remaining pillars within the chamber. Severa refused to give up, slamming her sword into Verrat's again and again and again, until it was knocked from his grasp. With one final downward strike, Verrat's left hand was removed from his body. The appendage sailed through the air, clanking lightly as it fell against the stony floor.
With a dull thud and a groan, Verrat found his back pressed up against the wall. A second later, he fell. Severa's sword had finally broken with her final slash. Thankfully, there seemed to be a replacement just nearby. She picked up Requiem. The blade felt cold in her hands, but she gripped it all the same. She moved forward until she was right in front of her father.
"Well… done…" Verrat rasped, "I knew you… had it in you…"
Severa's lips trembled slightly, but she ignored it. She held Requiem, and the weapon almost seemed eager to spill Verrat's blood, as if it had been waiting to do so for a long time. Severa pointed the blade forward, and thrusted.
Before Requiem could pierce through Verrat's chest, however, Severa felt pain explode across her entire body as a roar from both inside and outside the Dragon's Table reverberated across the walls. Severa looked down to see her body impaled by spikes. Her blood oozed onto the floor as the dark spikes slowly retracted, and she could no longer support herself.
Considering she was still able to breath, hell, even living, the spikes didn't hit anywhere immediately lethal. That didn't mean she was in fighting shape anymore.
"No!" Verrat shouted, reaching forward with his blunted arm. He stood up unsteadily as several bits of armor fell off his body and the dust settled. "Severa-!"
"At last… you arrive, Verrat…" A grim voice said.
All Robin needed was two more seconds. Just two more seconds and he could have had the Fell Dragon dead to rights. Instead, Grima had apparently grown tired of their game. The power granted to him and his double from the Dragon's Table was evidently fading, as the purplish aura that surrounded him began to diminish. Yet, with his last amount of strength in his human body, he slammed his fists against the ground.
Expiration.
Robin instinctively knew what it was called, and he felt himself fall as the spikes pierced his body. They pierced everyone's body, even those of Morgan and Tiki, who fell to the ground, their wings flapping limply against the ground. Chrom and Lucina supported each other once the spikes had receded, but they were no longer in fighting shape.
Fortunately for them, it didn't appear that Grima was either. Robin saw him crawl across the ground, barely able to keep himself up as he-
No…
"At last…" Grima choked out, grasping onto the armored Deadlord's shoulder. "You arrive, Verrat…"
Robin did not know when they had arrived. He had been too focused on the battle at hand to really pay attention to his surroundings. As he tried to get to his feet, with his body screaming at him to stop with every painful twinge of his muscles, he watched as Grima raised himself up using Verrat as balance. The Fell Dragon coughed as he spoke.
"Better late than never, old friend. We must dispatch them quickly. My other half is already dealing with the ones outside as we speak. Kill them, Verrat! Kill them! We must end this before they-!"
"No."
It was as if the world stood still. Robin eyed Severa nearby, her blood spilt onto the ground. She struggled to get up, her body apparently refusing to heed her orders. All the while, Robin prepared himself. If he could use the current situation to his advantage…
Grima stood stock still for a moment, his burnt coat nearly falling apart as he turned his red eyes to Verrat. "What did you say-!?"
"No!"
Verrat's iron fist shot forward and hit Grima across the face. Robin heard the sound of bone crunching as the Fell Dragon was sent skittering across the floor from the blow. Verrat was not done, though. Not by a long shot, it seemed. He surged forward, towering over Grima as he shot his hand forward again and again, striking the Fell Dragon wherever he wished.
Robin looked down from the brutal beatdown he was watching. His tome was bloodstained, but still functional. Tiki and Morgan were nearby, desperately trying to get up but unable to. Chrom and Lucina were dragging themselves to their feet, the latter of whom was staring at him with wide blue eyes. Robin saw him mouth his name.
Robin could only produce a small smile as red energy gathered within his hand.
I'm sorry, Chrom. I'm sorry, Tiki. Morgan. All of you.
"Robin!" He perked up when he heard an unfamiliar voice call out to him. Verrat stood, there, Grima in his arms, holding him down. The Fell Dragon snarled and scratched and clawed at the Deadlord, but Verrat refused to budge. His armor fell, his blood soaked the floor, but he still held onto the Fell Dragon with all his strength. "Do it! Now! You will not have another chance!"
The Parallel Sable held within Fulmen's hilt glowed ominously as power continued to build within Robin. His red eyes looked upon Grima as the Fell Dragon grew more desperate. He bit and spat like an animal caught in a trap.
"Curse you! Damn you!" It snarled, "I will feast upon your bones in hell, Alexander! You are bound to me!
"Then let us leave this world the same way we entered: together!" Verrat growled, holding on ever tighter.
"Daddy…" Severa sniffled. "Daddy… please…"
Robin felt it. Finally. The spell was ready.
With one final look at the dragon that had tormented him for his entire living memory, Robin fired the spell that had shattered Wyval's walls so long ago. The Fell Dragon screamed as it was engulfed in red magic. Robin saw every piece of the future vessel as it was split apart, broken down. He could feel it in his very soul. Verrat's body fell apart as well, along with Grima's as the two disintegrated before his very eyes. He felt his own body weaken with every second.
It only took ten seconds, but they were the longest ten seconds anyone had ever experienced. When the dust settled, Robin could only hear the sound of Grima's true body falling outside. The earth shook as it slammed into the ground.
Grima was gone. Verrat was gone. Turned into dust. Robin could feel it. He could feel himself slipping away, too. He raised his hand to see it covered in purple mist. Slowly, his hands faded away into nothingness.
"Robin!" Chrom shouted, limping forward as Robin looked at him. "What have you-!?"
Chrom stopped in his tracks when he saw the most carefree smile on his old friend's face. Robin laughed lightly, taking a deep breath.
"I couldn't let him go, Chrom. I'm sorry," He replied. "Not after all he had done. To us. To everyone. Grima is gone, and we both know if it had to be anyone to make that sacrifice, it would be me. What is one life when weighed against millions?"
"But," Chrom shook his head. "We could have found another way. I know we could have!"
"There wasn't any time," Robin replied quietly, "If it had to be this way, I am glad I am the only one paying the price for it. I…"
"Robin," A melodic voice said, as someone grasped his still existing hand. "It's okay."
Robin turned to see Tiki there, her body battered and bloody, but still very much alive. "Tiki…" Robin whispered, feeling his emotions begin to break through his mask. "I'm… I'm sorry it had to be this way."
"This was your choice. Nobody else's," Tiki said. She smiled, but Robin could see the unshed tears behind it. "I will wait for you. However long it takes for you to come back, I will wait for you."
Robin's eyes drifted to Morgan nearby, who was too injured to stand but faced her father all the same. She gave him a tearful smile.
"Thank you… all of you," Robin said, as he finally felt himself begin to fade away completely. "You have made these years of hardship and pain worth it… May we meet again, in a better life…"
Robin saw his own body begin to disintegrate into smoke, and he knew no more.
Severa watched Robin fall apart. She watched as Tiki silently fell to her knees. She watched as everyone mourned over the hero who had ended the Fell Dragon, once and for all. For the man who had undergone the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of his loved ones.
Yet, all Severa could do was hold Requiem close to her, as she wept for a father finally freed.
Severa laid her back against one of the last remaining pillars as she held the sword close to her chest. Her body ached. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, but that didn't mean she felt any better.
"Dad…" She wheezed out, feeling her tears fall down her cheeks.
He was free in his final moments. Severa was certain of that. In those final moments as he beat Grima down so that everyone else would have a chance, he was the father that she remembered, before the wars, before the bloodshed, before mom died. For one moment, he was Alexander again.
While Severa sat there, silently, she felt free herself.
Part 2. This is the one I'm most proud of.
