Birth and Re-Death

by ThreeDollarBratwurst

I swear, every time I turn around, someone else has got a clever idea to get me killed. And it usually works. Death doesn't seem too keen on sticking with me, though, so I guess I can get over it. Self-insert. Playfully testing the limits of what Rated T means. Cover image by Xcell

46. Ch 46: Robin Seeks My Shipping Insight

Birth and Re-Death

Chapter 46: Robin Seeks My Shipping Insight

"Lord Hadrian, please try to keep up."

The out-of-shape aristocrat huffs and puffs as he jogs to keep up with his entourage. This is, by far, the most exercise he has ever gotten in his life. The group has been on the move for what feels like an eternity now. Every day is just rushing southeast, occasionally stopping to eat or relieve oneself, and at the end of the day, mercifully, sleeping. The men that make up his personal guard are considerably more equipped for this sort of journey than he.

"I am… doing… my best," Hadrian sputters. "Are we… nearly there?"

The two guards in front of him roll their eyes at one another. "We should be there fairly soon," one of them says.

"You said that… three days ago," Hadrian says weakly.

"Did I? Must've misspoken," the guard replies.

"And are you… 'misspeaking' now?"

"Lord Hadrian," the other guard interjects, "with all due respect, do you want to be captured or killed by Gangrel's men? Because if we don't make it to Southtown before they catch up to us, we won't stand a chance."

"And frankly, if you slow us down, we might be tempted to just leave you," the first guard says.

A jolt of fear shoots down Hadrian's spine, putting some pep in his step. "Hold on now, lads. There's no need for talk like that! I'll keep pace!"

The guards in front of the aging lord smirk at each other. It's not often that members of the commoner class get to have their digs at the nobility, so they're savoring this. It reminds them that, if the Patriots are able to succeed, the noble class will be abolished completely. They wonder if a man like Hadrian would be cut out for a post-nobility world.

No wonder he's been attempting to buy his way out of the consequences by helping to fund this endeavor.

---

It's been pretty easy to just not think about it, but being a Shepherd is actually a job. A job that I've been getting paid for. I find out that at some point, an account was opened in my name in the royal treasury, and every month, I have been accumulating license to use a certain amount of the treasury's funds. I don't actually know how much money this is, functionally speaking, but it's more zeroes than I was expecting. I've long since figured out that the game grossly oversimplified trade costs, unsurprisingly, and that real trade depends on availability of materials, skill of the craftsmen, and a gorillion other things. Still, finding out that I have a modest sum of money at my disposal feels pretty nice. And then, not long after, I feel that money burning a hole in my metaphorical pocket.

A couple days before Gangrel's trial, I decide to do something I've been putting off for entirely too long: actually expanding my wardrobe. I'm still really short on clothes, and after nearly a year of wear and tear, my trusty grey shirt and black pants are pretty much in need of retirement. I never did manage to find out where the clothes that Cordelia bought me like a million years ago went. I got the jacket back, but that's about it. Anyway, Robin and I have been doing nothing but studying the law for days, and while I think I've got a pretty good idea of how we'll present my case, if I have to read one more poorly documented case summary from some rural hamlet, my eyes are going to start bleeding. So, clothes.

Robin declines to accompany me. "Go ahead," she says when I ask. "You definitely need it. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "I'd feel weird if you were still working while I goof off for an afternoon."

"Don't worry about that," she says, not looking up from the casebook in front of her. "I wouldn't be able to relax anyway. And besides, you did most of the up-front work on building this case. You actually have some foundation for legal studies. Don't feel like you didn't do enough work."

"If you say so, I guess," I reply uneasily. "Do you, uh, want anything?"

She looks up at me. "Really, I'm okay. Go, have an afternoon for yourself. You deserve a break. Anyway, you need to be dressed better than that when you go to court." She smiles. I haven't seen her smile much lately. It's a nice change.

"Okay. Thanks, Robin," I say, returning her smile. I walk off and leave the library.

As soon as I leave through the large library doors, I almost bump into someone.

"Ah, shit, sorry," I say as I stumble back. I notice the person I almost knocked over is Emmeryn. "Oh hey, Emmeryn! Good to see you."

After getting over the surprise of our near encounter, Emm smiles. "Hello… Randy."

Just behind her, I'm not surprised to see Lissa. "Heyo, Randy! Whatcha up to?"

I sigh. "Until just now, I've been doing nothing but studying up on Ylissean criminal law. It's gonna be pretty relevant here in a matter of days."

Lissa's smile fades. "Oh yeah. That's right. I'm sure that'll turn out okay though! Maribelle wouldn't let anything bad happen to you."

I don't feel like getting into the broader implications of the case with Lissa right now. "Yeah, I think it'll be alright." I look around for Lissa's shadow, but don't see him. "Where's Lon'qu?"

"Oh, him," Lissa waves dismissively. "I made him take the day off."

"The day off? Why?"

"The guy needs a hobby!" We start walking down the hall toward the bedrooms together. "Besides carving stuff, anyway. I'm pretty sure that if someone was really gonna assassinate me, they'd have tried by now."

That's a hell of a flag, Lissa. I decide not to make it worse by pointing it out.

"I'm surprised he'd even listen to an order like that," I say.

"He probably wouldn't have, if it weren't for Vaike and Stahl giving me a hand and dragging him off," Lissa says with a devious smirk.

"Remind me to say a prayer for them," I reply.

"What about you? What're you up to?" Lissa asks.

"Well, I've been doing nothing but studying law for days now. So I'm taking the afternoon off to avoid exploding. I was going to head into town and shop for some clothes, since the little clothes I have now are on their last legs."

Lissa gasps, her hand poorly covering the growing grin on her face. "You're going shopping? You never go shopping!"

"I know, that's my point! I don't have any clothes, and look," I point out the numerous small holes dotting the fabric of my pants. "These are not gonna fly in court."

"You have to let us come!" Lissa exclaims, grabbing Emm's hand and almost literally bouncing. "I could definitely help you pick out stuff!"

I already regret telling her anything. "What about Emmeryn, though? The public isn't aware of her amnesia, right? What'll happen if people swarm her?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm old hat at getting Emm disguised so she can just be one of the people," Lissa says with a wink. "Can we come? Pllleeease?"

She nudges Emmeryn beside her, and Emmeryn repeats, "Please?" sounding more unsure than pleading.

Okay, well that's just not fair.

I sigh. "Fine."

"Yay! Come on, Emm, let's get you dressed for going out," Lissa says, taking Emmeryn's hand and walking hastily toward Emmeryn's room.

"Okay," Emmeryn says, allowing herself to be pulled along. I'm pleasantly surprised to see that she's pretty much got walking down by now.

You know what? They deserve this too. Lissa and Emmeryn have been through too much. They need an afternoon of (I have no doubt) dressing me in ridiculous sartorial abominations. From what I hear, Lissa has been absolutely on the ball when it comes to Emmeryn. She's really stepped up. I'm proud of her. Proud enough, I guess, to go along with whatever she's got planned.

I loiter outside Emmeryn's room while Lissa gets her changed. While I'm putzing around, I'm a little surprised to see Gaius walking around the hallway. He seems to be admiring the art on the walls as he goes along.

"Hey there, Gaius," I say.

He looks my way, then raises his brows in surprise. "Bear! I didn't think I'd see you outside of the library or the barracks until this whole trial thing has blown over."

Blown over, he says. Would that I could afford to be so carefree. "I'm taking the afternoon off. Been working my ass off for days in a row and sleeping almost never."

He glances at Emmeryn's bedroom door behind me. "You're, uh, taking the afternoon off, huh? What exactly were you planning on doing?" He smirks.

"Well, right now I'm just waiting on Emmeryn to get changed," I reply.

"Uh-huh," he says, the smirk growing.

I give the top of his head a bonk with my fist. "Not like that. Lissa and Emm and I are hitting the town for some clothes shopping. Emmeryn has to wear a disguise so she doesn't get hounded by townspeople."

"That makes sense. They sure do love the lady around here, huh?"

The door opens. Emmeryn is the first to step out and join us. I have to say, Lissa has done a pretty good job concealing who this is. Emmeryn's hair has been bundled up into a tight bun, which has been stuffed into a dark stocking cap. Conveniently, the cap also covers the Brand on her forehead. The rest of her outfit, instead of the usual white that she's been wearing most of the time (since she rarely puts on her whole fancy Exalt robe thingy), is a simple dark green dress. She also wears brown leather boots, not unlike the ones Lissa usually wears. She doesn't look altogether comfortable in them yet. I think I've only ever seen her in the same flats she wore before the accident. She sort of stumbles around in these new boots, lifting her legs funny like a dog trying to get used to booties.

Lissa follows Emmeryn out of the room and 'yeep's in surprise when she sees Gaius standing there. "Gaius, what are you doing here?" Lissa asks, sounding more startled than irritated.

"Oh, I was just having a look around at all the decorations," Gaius replies. "You know, this building was where I met you all. Last time I was here, it was to rob the place. I was just looking around, wondering what I would have taken if I'd gone through with robbing the Exalt after all."

"Gaius! I thought you'd left your thieving ways behind!" Lissa exclaims.

"Listen, Princess. Just because I'm not robbing you anymore doesn't mean a thief isn't what I am. And it's not like you've had any reason to complain. Certainly came in handy when it came time to bust those hostages out of the dungeon, right?" Gaius retorts.

"Fine, fine. That's fair." A beat of silence. "By the way, what would you have stolen?" Lissa asks.

Gaius's eyes light up deviously. "I thought you'd never ask! There's a lot of valuable stuff here, obviously, but I found a real keeper. It's this over here. A portrait." We follow Gaius down the hall.

"A portrait?" Lissa asks.

"A well-painted portrait is worth a lot, especially if it was done by the right artist. And here, come look at this." We stop in front of a fairly small—roughly the size of an actual face—portrait of a woman.

She's beautiful. Her face is tall and slender, but it doesn't make her look gaunt. Unlike most of the straight-faced portraits in the palace, she has a slight but noticeable smile. Her golden hair is long and straight, with Tharja-esque bangs cut across her forehead. I can see why Gaius thinks highly of this artist; they've captured the kind twinkle in this woman's eyes perfectly. Then I notice her crown-tiara thingy. The same one that Emmeryn wore when she was still the acting Exalt. This is a member of the Exalted family.

"See, look here," Gaius says, interrupting my train of thought. He points to a small black marking in the bottom right corner of the portrait. It's an L, ornately drawn like the first letter of the page in those old monk-scribed books from the Middle Ages. "That's the mark of the artist Leda. No one knows who she is or even how to reliably find her to commission work, but that's made her all the more famous in the art world."

So Gaius is an art connoisseur, huh? Learn something every day. "How does anyone have work by her then? If you can't find her?" I ask.

"Oh, there's all kinds of rumors about how to get ahold of her," Gaius says dismissively. "Some say she just appears to the right person when their desire for her work is great enough. Others say there's a kind of summoning ritual, which has led some to speculate she might be a ghost or demon. Others say you never even meet her. You just leave a bag of gold coins and a slip of paper describing what you want painted on your windowsill, and in one week she'll return with the painting. You don't have to pose for your portrait or anything. That's my favorite rumor, obviously, because sacks of coins sitting unguarded on windowsills is great for me."

"That figures. How do you avoid imitators, though? Surely people want to cash in on that name recognition," I say.

"That's easy for the trained eye. Her brushstrokes are very distinctive. Not to mention the technique is self-evident. Just look at her," Gaius says, gesturing to the woman's face.

"That's our mother," Lissa says quietly. Gaius and I shut up and look at her. "I never really knew her. She died when I was so young. Even Chrom only has some faint memories of her. The only one who really knew her was…"

I glance at Emmeryn, who's staring at the painting. She slowly narrows her eyes to focus better. "This is… mother?"

Lissa nods. "Yeah." After a long hesitation, she asks, "Do you remember her at all?"

Emmeryn shakes her head. "Mm-mm."

Lissa sighs in resignation. "I figured. Anyway, we got distracted." She noticeably brightens her tone. "Come on, Randy! We have important business to get to!" We start heading out of the palace.

"So, you're in the market for some clothes, huh?" Gaius asks, following along with us.

"That's right," Lissa says.

"Then you've gotta have me along, Bear. I do love Princess dearly, but you can't trust her to give you sound fashion advice."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Lissa protests.

"I mean, have you seen that iron hoop skirt of hers?" Gaius asks with a devious chuckle.

"It's a battle skirt, you dumb butt! And it's not like I'm gonna try and make Randy wear one!"

I give Lissa a raised brow. "You really weren't planning on making me wear a skirt at any point today?"

Lissa's irritated expression cracks, the smirk beneath peeking through. "N-no, no way. Why would I do that? Obviously that would just look silly."

"That would be why," I reply, deadpan.

"Yeah, okay, that would be pretty funny," Lissa admits. "I would totally do that."

Gaius nods self-assuredly. "As I suspected. Therefore, you wanna have a laugh, by all means, stick with Princess. You wanna reel in the ladies? Stick with me."

"Why would he take fashion advice from the guy who literally wears lollipops and candy bracelets?" Lissa asks.

"Because I already snagged the sweetest lady of em all," Gaius replies simply. "I must be doing something right."

Lissa doesn't have a retort ready. I don't blame her. That was smooth.

---

"Gaius, I thought you said I was going to be reeling in ladies if I took your advice. This doesn't seem like it'll do the job."

I've never worn just straight up tights before. Tight pants, sure, but these are just tights. Optimistically, I feel like OOT Link, but considering their peach-pink hue, I don't even think I can claim that level of dignity. The lilac tunic and matching feathered cap just feel like overkill, really. I look like the Easter Bunny's squire.

"Trust me, Bear. Girls see you in that, and they'll come crawling," Gaius says, completely straight-faced.

"Cuz if they're crawling, they might get a peek up the skirt," Lissa replies, decidedly not straight-faced.

I gesture at Lissa, who currently looks like she's physically stuffing her derisive laughter down her throat to keep it from getting loose. Emmeryn next to her just stares at her little sister. "You think this look is working here, Gaius?" I ask.

Finally, his poker face cracks. "Well, you're definitely hard to miss," he says, and that's the last straw for Lissa, who bursts out laughing.

I close my eyes and nod solemnly, taking in the suffering. Just remember, Randy, you said Lissa deserved to have this. This was your idea.

"You look like a field of flowers puked in your mom's laundry hamper!" Lissa gasps between fits of cackling.

"You're a real lady, Lissa, you know that?" I reply.

"That's what they tell me!"

That's how the early afternoon passes. Lissa is a little less subtle; she just thinks seeing me in frilly women's clothing is hilarious. Gaius is more artful. He knows how to make sure I emerge from the changing room just as an attractive woman or a group of giggling children is passing outside. He gives me clothes that don't look so bad at first glance, but he's worked out in his head that they'd look stupid on me specifically. Things that fit awkwardly, or make my head look tiny, and so on. Part of the problem is that he can pace himself, too. He spreads these ridiculous articles among clothes that actually do look nice (and that I end up buying for real). He builds up trust just to break it down. He's a monster.

"Randy! Put this on!" Lissa exclaims, shoving a large, lacy blue ball gown into my hands.

I sigh. "At least you've learned my color." I can feel my ability to humor the young princess stretching thinner by the second.

"Don't ever say Mama Lissa never did nothin' for ya," she replies with a smirk and a wink.

"Right." I duck into the changing room. As I examine the long string of buttons on the back of the dress, I call out, "You know, I'm not gonna be able to wear this unless someone buttons up the back."

"I got it!" Lissa calls back. "I used to button up Emm's dresses for fancy parties all the time!" With that, she bursts through the curtain of the dressing room. "Whoa."

"Dude, I'm still changing," I say urgently, turning my back on the princess. What is with these Ylissean princesses needing to invade my privacy, huh? If Emmeryn ever sees me in my drawers I'll have the complete set.

Lissa ducks out quickly. "Just, y'know, let me know when you're ready," she says tersely.

Some time later, I have the gown on. It… doesn't fit terribly, I guess. Though it was made for a girl shorter than me by a good margin, so instead of going to the ankles like it's supposed to, the dress stops around halfway down my calves. My big, hairy dude calves. Lovely.

Lissa seems to regard this as her masterpiece. "Gaius, I present to you, the Were-Princess!" she bellows, opening the curtain.

I wasn't expecting Cordelia to be standing there next to him. I feel my insides turn 90 degrees in a split second, like someone just judo throwed my stomach.

Alright. You can beat this. The only way out of this is to own it. I lean up against the doorway of the changing room. "Hey," I say lowly and seductively, running a hand through my hair.

While Lissa and Gaius laugh like baboons, Cordelia's face runs as red as her hair. "I, I had, uh, heard you were shopping in town. I had some things I wanted to talk with you about." She's silent for a long second. "But it looks like you're busy."

"It was Lissa's idea?" I offer. Doesn't seem like it helped. Her face quickly hides behind the safety of her hands. "I'll just be back in a second, then." I duck back into the changing room. After a few painful seconds, I'm forced to admit I'm not getting this off without help. "Lissa?" I call out.

"Yeees?" she responds.

"Please help me out of this thing."

"I dunno, Randy, I just realized I have someplace to be—"

"If you don't help me get this thing off, I'll cut it off myself and have the tailor send you the bill," I interrupt.

"Fine, fine. Party-pooper," Lissa grumbles as she joins me in the changing room.

I scoff. "A party-pooper wouldn't have let you stuff him into this thing in the first place."

"Huh," I hear behind me as I feel her thin fingers working over the long string of buttons down my back. "I guess you have a point."

A few minutes later, mercifully, I'm back in my own clothes. Well actually, I'm in new clothes. Nothing fancy, just a pair of dark grey pants with a brown belt and a deep red button-down shirt. It's weird owning an article of clothing that isn't black, brown, grey, or blue. Maybe I'm feeling adventurous. In any case, the old black pants and grey undershirt are officially retired. They will live on as scraps for patching or as rags. God rest their souls.

I find Cordelia in the back corner, rifling through a barrel of large bandanas. She sees me approaching and holds up a white one, stitched with intricate little black floral patterns.

"What do you think?" she asks, tying it around her head and turning to show it off.

I never did quite get the hang of talking to Cordelia, especially when she's being this cute. "It, uh, it's good! I didn't know you wear stuff like that."

She giggles. "You've only ever seen me dressed for battle, Randall. Of course you've never seen me accessorize. Well, outside of my clips." She gestures to the little wing-thingies she's always wearing.

I feel like I remember her having a thing about accessories. Doesn't she decorate her spear in one of the Scrambles or something? "Nothing wrong with wanting to get prettied up once in a while," I say. I glance behind me briefly and see Gaius ushering Lissa toward the door, almost boxing her out like she's going for a rebound. He shoots me a quick thumbs-up before the pair disappear out the door, Emmeryn close behind.

"I'm glad to hear that," she says with a small smile. "I know it's silly, but I started training to be a knight when I was so young, sometimes I feel like I never got a chance to just… be a girl."

"I getcha. Not that I've ever, you know, been a girl." Painful memories of the blue dress stab through me like a railroad spike of cringe. I'll have to remember to get Lissa back for that one. "But I can empathize. Ever since I came to this country, war is pretty much the only thing I've been doing. I don't know how to just be a person here."

"You make it sound like you don't know much about normal life in Ylisse. Is it really so different here than… where are you from, again?" Cordelia asks.

The words stop in my throat. "Let's not get into that. Point is, I get it. Sort of."

She raises a brow. "If you say so."

It's been a while since I had to worry about being careful with what I divulge about myself. Better watch myself. "So before, you made it sound like you were looking for me."

"I was," she says, the smile fading from her face. She grips the bandana in her fist at her side. "I want to talk about Phila."

"Oh. Yeah, I can do that. I'm guessing you'd prefer to do that elsewhere?"

"I would." She pays for the bandana and ties her hair up with it. I glance down at the rest of her outfit. The few times I've seen her without armor, it's just been her mostly red outfit she wears underneath it. Today she's wearing a simple dark brown tunic over a whitish long-sleeved shirt, with brown pants to match. If it weren't for her striking long red hair, she wouldn't look that different at first glance from the average woman walking around. It's interesting to see her in civilian clothing for once. Of course, she could make sackcloth look nice. This is Cordelia after all.

We leave the shop, and I follow her down the street. She'd know her way around better than I would, so I'm content to just walk behind her and watch her red hair poking through the bandana sway in the early spring air. Good lord does she have a lot of hair.

She leads me to the northeast part of town, onto a decently sized field where about half a dozen pegasi trot around. Occasionally one will kick off the ground, fly around for a few seconds, then touch back down.

"This must be where you spent most of your time as a trainee, huh?" I ask as we cross the field.

She looks over her shoulder at me and waits for me to step beside her. "Actually, no. The training facility where recruits get most of their experience is pretty far to the west, situated on the border between East and West Sedgar provinces."

"Oh yeah." I remember now. "That was one of the places we were considering going to first when the army marched back into Ylisse, wasn't it?"

"That's right. That was where I spent most of my early years."

"That must've been hard. Being away from your family and stuff, I mean," I say. Cordelia guides us toward a large stable as we talk.

"I suppose. But I come from a long line of Ylissean soldiers. To my family, it was my duty to uphold that tradition," she replies, not sounding happy or sad about it. She just says it as a statement of fact.

"Fair enough, I guess. Did you ever want to be anything else?"

She laughs lightly through her nose. "Oh, never seriously. You could say I had my share of fancies, though. At night sometimes, I would tie up my hair in what I thought was an artful, 'ladylike' fashion, and pretend I was at a high-class ball or banquet. I imagined dancing, socializing with nobility, and…" She pauses, her face reddening.

I fight the urge to chuckle. "Catching the eye of a certain prince, huh?"

The red darkens, then she sighs. "I just need to get over that. It was nothing but a silly fantasy then, and that's all it is now."

I'm torn. I want to encourage her, but she's pretty much right. Chrom is clearly into Maribelle, and Lucina confirmed that at least in the future, that's how things ended up. I don't know who Cordelia is supposed to end up with, but I at least know Severa exists. She'll find love someday, but beyond that, I don't know what to say.

"I'm not oblivious, either," she goes on when I stay silent. "I've seen how he looks at her. It's a look I've envied for years. That's why I imagined myself to be a prim and proper noblewoman. I thought if I were like her…" She shakes her head and opens the door to the stable. "I got distracted. That wasn't what I wanted to talk with you about."

"Ah, my bad," I mutter as I follow her inside. The stable smells exactly like I remember my aunt and uncle's horse stable smelling back in America. Like horse poop. Not sure what I expected.

When we're inside, she closes the door and turns to face me. "I have questions."

"I figured."

She stares at me. "I don't want half-truths, or convenient lies. Can I trust you?"

I nod, matching her seriousness. "Of course."

"Good. First. Was Phila a member of the Patriots?"

Oh. I guess I should have assumed she might have worked that out.

I promised to answer her questions honestly. "Yes, she was. I think the other members of the guard under her command were too."

She closes her eyes, maintaining her poker face. "I see. Was she coerced into it, like you were?"

I decide that it's better if she get the whole truth, no matter how harsh. In a way, I think that's what Phila would have asked of me. She wasn't ashamed of her choice, so I won't try to hide it. "No, she chose it. I don't know how she felt about the whole 'setting up a transnational republic' thing, but she definitely wanted the Exalted family out of power. She thought it was the best way to ensure Emmeryn's protection."

"To ensure the Exalt's protection?" Cordelia looks understandably confused.

"I know. I thought it sounded backwards when I first heard it too. But she tried to explain herself. She knew that a lot of people hold the Exalt as a concept in contempt after what Exalt Gideon pulled in the last war. She told me about all kinds of assassination attempts on Emmeryn's life, both the ones the public knew about and plenty they didn't. She thought that if she could safely remove Emmeryn from the seat of power, she could protect her better. So she joined the people trying to do just that. I think she figured that if she were part of the group, she could influence them to go for a less violent revolution."

"But… why wouldn't she just turn against them once she knew who the rebels were? If her goal was to protect the Exalt and nothing more, wouldn't it have made more sense to gain the rebels' trust and then report their identities to the Ylissean authorities?" Cordelia asks, a tinge of desperation to her tone as if an answer I could give would erase what Phila was part of.

"I wondered the same thing. I never got the chance to ask her," I reply. "To be honest, things were moving pretty fast when she was around. I only got a couple chances to talk with her. Maybe she really believed in the Patriots' idea for a new government. Maybe she did plan to turn on them someday. I wish I could tell you more."

"I guess we'll never know, will we?" she asks, sounding defeated. She takes a seat on a little bench by one of the empty stalls. "As for those under her command, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that they'd follow Commander Phila even if her goal was to take the Exalt out of power. The elite guard would have followed her anywhere."

I take a seat next to her. "I know that wasn't what you wanted to hear."

She laughs humorlessly. "No, it wasn't. Robin suspected Commander Phila from the start, you know."

"That doesn't exactly surprise me. She's sharp, to say the least."

She looks at the dirt floor between her feet. "I… I got angry with her for suspecting Phila of wrongdoing. Robin was asking some pretty pointed questions. Looking back on it, I should have noticed that the commander was dodging them. But I didn't want to see. I wanted my commander to be above reproach, like I always thought she was."

"Well no one can blame you for that. She was your teacher and commander. Anyone would instinctively stick up for their mentor. Don't beat yourself up for having trust in someone who never gave you a reason not to," I say.

"I guess you're right, but… I thought enough had been taken from me already. I lost most of my sisters-at-arms when Ylisstol was invaded. We failed to protect Exalt Emmeryn. I lost Hyperion. We lost two of the royal guard during the siege on Ylisstol. Their names were Ceres and Serenity. Then we lost Phila at Themis. And now, I can't even hang onto my memory of her as the irreproachable commander I thought she was. The whole elite guard's integrity is compromised. I know this war took a lot from everyone, but…"

"You don't have to feel guilty about acknowledging what you lost. This war took something from everyone, but it definitely took more than its share from you," I say.

"How do you do it?" Cordelia asks.

"Do what?"

"I mean… gods, I don't even know how to say it."

"Don't worry about tact. Just say whatever you're thinking."

She hesitates. "Alright. How do you keep going? How can you act so normal? You saw so many horrors in this war. I heard you were kidnapped along with Maribelle when the Plegians first invaded. I remember how hard you took it when the Exalt lost her memories, even though you saved both my life and hers that day. Then you were kidnapped again, held captive for months by a band of revolutionaries. Only to come back and have to hear such horrible news. Yet today, I found you indulging Lissa's childish games and having a laugh with her and Gaius. Sometimes I'll peek in at the library and see you hard at work, building your case. It seems like all this tragedy has just… I don't know, rolled off your shoulders? You really didn't slow down at all. You're still the same kind, hardworking man you were when we first met. How do you do it?"

I can't help but laugh, earning a surprised look from her. "Is that how I make it seem?" I ask. "Like I've got it all put together?"

"W-well, yes, frankly," she replies, unsure whether to be offended by me laughing at her or just confused.

I sigh and lean back against the column between the stalls. "Well, good to know the act is working for some people anyway. Truth is, I think the only reason I'm still keeping it together is because I have this trial coming up. My own war isn't quite over yet until Khan Flavia isn't after my head anymore. If I didn't have that, I don't know what I'd be doing."

I feel her eyes on me. "Really? I'd have never guessed. Here I was thinking you were taking everything so well. I'm sorry I didn't see," she says softly.

I shrug. "It's not like I've been making it easy to notice. I come from a long cultural tradition of taking those emotions, burying them deep, and waiting for them to stop hurting. I lost two grandparents in the same month once, and didn't cry at either of their funerals. I'm pretty much a pitcher plant; things go in but don't come out until they're digested beyond recognition."

"That… sounds really unhealthy, Randall," Cordelia says.

"Damn right. But it's worked for me so far," I reply.

"Until it doesn't. Isn't there any outlet for you?" she asks concernedly.

"Well, sometimes I get drunk."

She frowns. "Well you know that's not a good answer," she says, exasperated.

"I'll see about finding something else when I'm not spending most of my time getting ready for court," I reply.

"Oh, fair enough," she sighs. "And here I didn't want you worrying too much about me."

"You sound like Maribelle," I say.

Cordelia snorts. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Take it how you want, I guess."

She's quiet for a moment. "So everyone in the elite guard is implicated, huh?"

I nod sadly. "Yeah. If they all showed up together to help with the siege, they're all compromised."

"They did. Gods, I remembered how impressive I thought they looked, flying in formation to join us." Cordelia stands up and paces around. "Gods, I was so stupid. I can't believe it."

"So what happens now? With the other elite guard, I mean," I ask.

She continues pacing as she answers. "Well, they'll have to be arrested, of course. Even if they ultimately helped us in the siege, they were doing so under false pretenses. Conspiracy to overthrow the government is a serious crime."

"Will they be able to argue that they were just following orders?"

She shakes her head. "No. Every royal guard swears an oath of fealty to the Exalt and the halidom, not to her commanding officer. If your commanding officer orders you to in some way break that oath, you're obliged to disobey that order."

"You said that anyone in the royal guard would have followed Phila, though."

"I did, and I meant it. The oath is important, of course, but at the end of the day, the commander is the one who gave these women their orders in everyday life. She's the one who actually earned their trust and loyalty. Compared to that, the Exalt is distant, abstract."

"When you put it like that, it reminds me of that Plegian general, Mustafa. His men turned on Gangrel because their commanding officer did. I guess loyalty to your commander is a pretty universal thing, huh?" I remark.

"Which will make it all the more tragic when they have to be punished for what they've done. They all love their country, I know that. They want to protect Ylisse. They were just led astray and weren't strong enough to stay on the right path," Cordelia replies sadly.

"If it helps, the Patriots aren't evil people. It's not like the elite guard got drawn into some villainous gang of raiders. These are people with legitimate, even respectable goals."

Cordelia bristles. "Respectable? They sought to take the Exalted family out of power! The rulers of this country, ordained by Naga herself to lead our people against any who would threaten Ylisse! It's true that Exalt Gideon made terrible mistakes, but the institutions that make up the foundation of this country shouldn't be cast aside just because we had one bad ruler in living memory! What's respectable about that level of short-sightedness?"

It seems like she's not in the mood to defend her comrades' actions. "I'm not saying you're wrong. I'm just saying they didn't want to hurt your countrymen. They thought they were doing the right thing."

She folds her arms. "Gangrel seemed to think he was doing the right thing too."

"You've got a point. I'm sorry. I thought I was helping." I stand up as well.

She sighs. "I know. You were being kind. Thank you for that. But it's too soon to start making excuses for them. And it's certainly too early for me to accept them."

"I get that." It seems like this is where this conversation should end, but I don't want to leave her like this. "Do you wanna get out of here? My whole purpose in going out today was to take my mind off all this heavy shit. Maybe you could do the same."

"I wish I could. But we can't wait to act on what you've told me. I need to consult with Chrom straight away and see how he wants to handle this," Cordelia says, starting to head for the door.

I feel heat in my face. "Oh, yeah. Of course. I don't know where my mind is lately."

She smiles kindly, her hand resting on the doorway. "You're under an incredible amount of stress. Don't worry about it. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Okay," I reply lamely. Her red hair disappears around the doorway.

I sigh. That was a lot. I guess I have to prepare to have exchanges like that with others down the line. There's too much to catch up on. The only person I've actually had time to fill in on everything, at least among the people who would actually talk to me, is Robin.

No wonder I barely feel like I'm back most of the time.

I head back toward the shopping district, hoping I might run into Gaius, Lissa, and Emm somewhere. I appreciate the assist, Gaius, but you could've at least told me where you'd be. Times like these you really miss having a cellphone.

My search is put on pause when I see some guy waving at me down the street. I glance behind me to see if there's someone behind me that he was aiming at, but it doesn't look like it. When I look back forward, the guy has already approached. I don't recognize him. He looks like he's in his thirties, maybe forties. Nothing really stands out about the guy.

"You're Randall, right? The Shepherd?" he asks.

Feels good to be referred to as a Shepherd again, I think to myself. "Yeah, that's me. What do you need?"

"My name is Francis. I've been appointed as the prosecutor in the halidom's case against King Gangrel. I was hoping to talk with you."

"Oh, yeah, absolutely." I'm honestly a little surprised that Maribelle really is leaving the prosecution of Gangrel to a random citizen, but I guess that's probably the point. The Ylissean judicial system functioning as normal, prosecuting a criminal against the halidom like it would any other. Treating him like any other criminal, at least in terms of procedure, is a statement in its own right. You know what, scratch what I thought about this a second ago; I like this. Good call, Mari.

Francis leads me into a little teahouse nearby. A nice place, actually. Lots of natural light, and the chairs are comfortable. We get settled in at a table near the back of the room, where a waitress quickly sets us up with cups of tea.

"So I guess I should explain what I'm doing," Francis says.

"I'm guessing you want to interview me about the interactions I had with Gangrel before and during the war, to build your case against him," I say.

His eyebrows rise a bit. "Maybe I don't have to explain after all," he says.

"I've been doing a fair bit of reading up on the Ylissean court system the past few days. This is all familiar to me," I reply.

"Well, that's good then. Saves me some work. Why don't you just tell me about everything that happened to you personally regarding Gangrel or those working for him, then?"

I spend the next good while recounting everything that's happened to me in the last—Jesus, it's been almost a year—with the war. How Themis was attacked, most of the villa staff killed, and Maribelle and I kidnapped and held for ransom for the Fire Emblem. How we fought the Plegians thereafter. How we went east and were separated from Emmeryn, which led to her capture. How we lost Emmeryn's memories in the process after she took the fall to protect the Fire Emblem. And finally, how on the way back to Ylisstol, we were ambushed, and I was kidnapped.

"Well, I guess I should clarify. Gangrel thought he was kidnapping me. In point of fact, a man from the group that would later call themselves the Patriots kidnapped me," I say.

"I'm sorry, what? He 'thought' he was kidnapping you?"

"Well, the guy he handed me over to ended up being a double agent. So I was in fact kidnapped, just not technically by Gangrel that time. Though he did try."

"You certainly had a more… dynamic wartime experience than most of the other Shepherds I've interviewed," Francis says.

I shrug. "Trouble follows me. Anyway, after that, I never really interacted with Gangrel much except for, as an unwilling member of the Patriots, I did kill quite a few of his men spread throughout southern Ylisse. But I never saw the man himself again until the last battle of the war, when I helped Prince, er, acting-Exalt Chrom defeat him."

Francis has been taking copious notes throughout my recounting. I wonder if it's an unwritten rule that in high-profile cases, the prosecutor has to at least be literate. For that matter, I wonder what the literacy rate is in this country. I guess I just assumed it wouldn't be that high.

When he stops writing, he shuffles his papers around a moment, then looks up at me. "So, from what I gather in your story, he ordered the attack on the Osprey villa, right?"

"Yeah. He wanted to exchange Maribelle and me for the Fire Emblem, so he had us kidnapped. Well, actually I think my kidnapping in particular was kind of tangential; I'm pretty sure Maribelle was the only important target."

"Regardless, if that's the case, then he's culpable for everything his soldiers did there. All those civilians killed. You mentioned his soldiers even killed the maid staff. And of course, he ordered that Duchess Maribelle and you be kidnapped. Even with just that attack, there's enough here to put him on the chopping block and then some. This was all when the countries were supposedly at peace, meaning he had no prompting to do this. Everything that happened during the war just adds more fuel to the fire."

"Yeah. So is there anything else you need from me?"

"Well, yes, but not today. See, I'd like to call on you during the trial so I can question you up on the stand, in front of everyone," he says, gathering his notes together and stowing them in a thin leather folder.

"Ah, gotcha. I figured that'd be the case. That's fine." It occurs to me that my first time in a courtroom won't be as an attorney, like I always figured it would be, but as a witness.

"So I need to ask you not to leave town. And when Gangrel's trial begins in three days, I need you to be in the courtroom. Can I count on you to do that?" Francis asks. He sounds like he's had this conversation before.

"Oh yeah, I'm not going anywhere. Didn't you hear? I'm technically under arrest," I say with a smirk.

He blanches. "What do you mean?"

"Turns out all that work I did for the Patriots might not have been strictly legal. So Khan Flavia thinks, anyway."

"O-oh. I see." Guess no one told him I'm a wanted criminal. "Well, I wish you luck with that, I suppose."

I chuckle. "Much obliged."

He hastily finishes his tea. "Well, I think I have everything I need. I will see you in three days, Randall." He gets up. "Enjoy your tea."

"Take it easy," I tell him as he walks past me and heads for the door. I sigh and turn my attention back to my tea. It really is pretty good stuff. Kinda reminds me of Earl Grey. Francis has good taste.

When I've finished my cup, I leave some coins on the table, get my bag of newly bought clothes, and leave to head back for the palace. The sun is already starting to quit as I approach the top of the hill.

---

"I thought I might find you here. Right where I leftcha." By now she's the only person left in the library, at least as far as I can tell. There's still some light from the abundant chandeliers, but without the supplement of natural light, it's quite dim in here.

"Oh, you're back," Robin says, looking up from her notes. "Did you have fun? You definitely look better now that you're in, well, fully intact clothes." She glances down at my new outfit. "Red works for you."

Coming from Robin, that's actually really flattering. I didn't think she cared about fashion. "Why thank you," I reply as I sit down across the table from her.

"You were gone for a while. Are there a lot of shops around the city?" she asks.

"Well, maybe. I didn't really see much of it. Lissa and Gaius snatched me up pretty much as soon as I tried to leave. Having them and Emmeryn along slowed my efficiency considerably, especially considering all the God-awful outfits they stuffed me into."

She snorts cutely. "I'd believe it. Did they come back with you?"

"No. While I was out with them, I got sidetracked talking with Cordelia."

The smile on her face flickers. "By the look on your face, I don't think you were trading cake recipes."

"She wanted the truth about Phila. I told her everything I knew. She's gone off to talk to Chrom and have the other members of the elite guard arrested for working with the Patriots."

Her eyebrows rise in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought she would be so eager to turn on them. She was so fiercely loyal to Phila."

"Yeah, she mentioned that. You were suspicious of Phila from the start, huh? I'm not surprised, you're sharp like that."

She smiles bashfully. "Well, I just thought, you know, parts of her story weren't adding up, that's all."

"Anyway, I think that's why she's so adamant about this. She knows that she was wrong before, and she wants to make it right."

"That makes sense. Really, I should have had them arrested myself, as soon as you told me they were Patriots. My mind has just been so focused on this that I haven't been thinking about other matters that need attending to," Robin says with a tired sigh.

"There's so many loose ends to tie up, even now that the war is over. We have to decide what to do about the Patriots." I lean back a bit in my chair.

"That may depend on how your trial goes, don't you think? The apparent leader of the Patriots has been captured and is on trial for his life. Depending on what Aventine and Vasto have told their people, there may be a push within the movement to break you out of captivity. If that happens, I have to think they'll be put down."

"The Patriots have rarely been so straightforward with their actions. And anyway, I doubt Aventine would lift a finger to bail me out now. Vasto… I'm a little less sure about. But that's all assuming Lu–" I catch myself. "I guess I didn't tell you. I sent Marth out the other day to try and make contact with the Patriots. Not necessarily with Aventine, but at least Vasto and, ideally, Octavia too. It would be really great if she could get ahold of some of the others that were with me when Southtown went down, but most of them are either all the way in the Farfort or dead. All except–" A sudden realization. "Henry. I need Henry."

"Henry? Who's Henry?"

"He's a Plegian Patriot. Joined under General Mustafa, I think. He's a weird guy, to say the least. He's a dark mage, and his moral compass is even more fucky than Tharja's. But he was one of the ones who went with me to infiltrate the town when we thought it was still occupied by Plegians. He was interrogated by Regulus too. He can corroborate that we thought the town was occupied by Plegian soldiers."

"Does… Marth know that she should be looking for him?" Robin asks.

"No. I only just remembered now who was with me. But he's kind of Vasto's right hand man. Hopefully if she makes contact with Vasto, she'll run into him too."

"I could try and get other operatives out to find him," she replies.

"We shouldn't risk that. Flavia will be looking for evidence that I've contacted the Patriots. She'll suspect I'm trying to get them to break me out."

"You have faith in this girl, don't you?" I look in Robin's eyes. Her expression is serious, hard-set.

"I do. The only reason she was caught when she first tried to rescue me was because Henry himself captured her. If it weren't for that, she can disappear like a shadow in the dark. So either she successfully makes covert contact with Vasto like she intends, or she inadvertently meets Henry again. Either way, she's going to run into someone I want her to see."

"That makes sense. There's something else about her that I'd like to know. I realize it might be something you don't want to talk about for my sake."

"What is it?"

"Her name is Lucina, isn't it?"

My stomach jolts. How the hell does she know that?

She continues before I can even ask. "When you were angry with me the other day, you said that it was only 'Lucina' that gave you the courage to fight to get away from the Patriots. I already know that it was Marth that traveled with you back to Ylisstol and then to Themis and the Border Pass. That means she and Lucina are the same person, right?"

I sigh. I spoke carelessly because I was pissed off. "Yeah, that's her name."

"Why did she tell only you her name?"

"She didn't. I knew it already."

She nods. "That's what I thought. Lissa swore she saw her come out of the same portal in the sky that first brought the Risen to Ylisse. Is that true too?"

How much can I safely disclose right now? I guess it wouldn't hurt to fill her in a little. "Yeah. The Risen and Lucina both came from the future. Like, nearly two decades from now."

I watch the gears in Robin's head turn for a few seconds. "I had considered that possibility, but I thought it couldn't be more than idle fantasy. That was why she appeared the night the assassins attacked Ylisstol. Was Emmeryn killed by them in the future?"

"Yes. But after Lucina averted that future, she's been as lost as any of us when it comes to what should happen next. Well, actually, I was still pretty much on track until we saved Emm the second time. But anyway, she came back from a horrible, apocalyptic future to try and change things."

"And because you know the story of this world from the version of it that you remember from America, you knew who Lucina was."

"That's right. And the Randall that lived in the future knew I would know who she was, so he told her to go to me first. I've been in semi-regular contact with her ever since you and I joined the Shepherds."

She's quiet again for a moment. "Chrom's daughter?"

"Keep your voice down! Yes, that's who she is. And that's why she can't reveal her identity yet."

"I suppose that makes sense. Chrom isn't even married yet. Meeting your future child risks throwing things off in a big way."

"Exactly. That's why I've forbidden Lucina to tell me anything about who ends up with who in an effort not to mess things up."

"Does that mean that she's not the only one?"

"Yes. More than a dozen kids came from the future, but the magic that sent them here is erratic. It spread them all over not just Archanea, but Valm as well. And it dropped them in different times, too. Lucina happened to land at a very fortuitous time and place, but the rest of the kids dropped elsewhere, or haven't yet dropped. There's a lot I don't know."

"This is a lot to take in," she says, leaning back in her chair. "I guess I should start big. What was the catastrophe that led them to travel to the past in the first place?"

"The Fell Dragon Grima was revived by Validar and the Grimleal. Using your body as the vessel. Chrom and most of the Shepherds were killed over the following years. In the end, I was the only one left. Or, you know, future-me. But he guided the Shepherds' children to Mount Prism, way out east, where the Divine Dragon Naga sent them to an alternate past world. This world."

"Wow… So in a sense, I was responsible for the world ending, then," she says quietly.

"It's not that simple. There was mind control involved."

"Well that's comforting. Who can mind control me?"

"Validar."

"But he's dead."

"No, he's not. You and Chrom came close to killing him, but if everything is as I think it is, he survived."

"I swear I saw a hole in his chest as he fell out that window. How is that possible?" she asks, somewhere between disbelieving and pissed.

I shrug. "It's never explained. But it's how it is. There's a chance I'm wrong, and that's another place where we've departed from the story I knew. But we should assume he's alive."

She crosses her arms, irritated. "Whoever wrote your version of this world's story left quite a few gaps, you know that?"

"Trust me, I'm aware."

"So I had my mind controlled by the apparently-living Validar and then, what, became the vessel for Grima? And then he used my body to destroy the world?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Though that's always confused me. In the story I knew, the one without me in it, the future Shepherds had been taken by surprise, and that's how Grima got into Robin's body. But future-me should have seen that coming and warned future-you. I wish I knew how that was allowed to happen. I kind of doubt he would have told Lucina, though."

"I see. Wait… did we have our power in this future timeline too?"

"Yes. And I know where you mind is going with this. I thought the same thing. And it seems we're right, based on what Lucina told me. If one of us permanently dies because the other sets a new respawn point after their death, the one who lived keeps the power."

"That would mean there are no conditions to the survivor getting to respawn. It would just happen every time they died. If they were to get stuck in a situation where they woke up to a situation they couldn't get out of…"

I finish the thought. "That person would be stuck in a loop of eternal death with no way out."

We shiver at the same time.

"Well, let's hope that isn't what happened to future-you then," Robin says with a nervous laugh. "Gods. I could never forgive future-me if she let that happen to you."

"I try not to think about it. Lucina thinks there's a chance he may have made his way to the past as well. So you might get the chance to know what Grizzled Old Veteran Randy looks like." I give her a roguish smile.

I'm surprised when she reddens slightly. Or maybe it's just a trick of the dim lighting. "One Randy is more than enough, thank you." She clears her throat. "So! Am I allowed to know anything about the other children besides Lucina that came from the future?"

"Wellll, I don't know. I've forbidden her to tell me a lot of the details about them myself, actually."

"I thought you knew the story of this world really well!"

"I do! But there are variables. See, it's…" How the fuck do you explain a video game to someone whose world would be rocked by the telegram? "It's like an interactive book, in a sense. Like a game mixed with a book."

"A game?"

"Yeah. So you, as the reader-slash-player, get to have a say in how the story goes. Including, in this story's case, which Shepherds end up marrying each other."

"Are you serious?" Her eyes are suddenly positively gleaming. It's possible I shouldn't have told the girl who keeps a heart-clasped shipping chart that the player controls the S-supports. Too late now, I guess.

"Yeah. For the most part, you can pair up any of the dudes with any of the ladies. Chrom and Sumia have limited options though. I guess they're picky."

"So wait. You… should I say you read it, or played it?"

"Played is more accurate."

"So you played this game, then?"

"Oh yeah. Like twenty times, I think."

"Well? With that many iterations of this world, you've gotta have your own pairings in mind, right?"

Oh boy. "It's… possible."

She's grinning. Just grinning. "I can't believe I didn't know this about you."

"You know, we were talking about some pretty serious stuff before…"

"This is serious! Come on, spill! Who do you pair Chrom with?"

"Do I have to do this?" I groan.

"Yes. Consider it my fee for being your lawyer."

"Ugh." I sigh, defeated. "You got me there. Chrom I usually paired with Sumia or Maribelle. Sumia makes for more optimal children, stat-wise, but Maribelle always just seemed more fitting character-wise to me."

"Mm, I could see that. What about Lissa?"

"Lon'qu, almost every time. All that time spent bodyguarding her? How could it not?"

"Right, right." When did she start taking notes? "Go on, then. What about Frederick?"

"Honestly, he usually doesn't end up with anyone. There end up being more guys than girls in the Shepherds, so a few guys end up single forever, at least as far as pairing them with other Shepherds goes."

"Ooh, I see." She scratches a couple more notes down, then pauses. "What about…" She starts reddening furiously. "What about me?"

"You're kinda complicated, actually. See, the character of Robin is the most flexible character in the whole story."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, before the game even starts, the player decides whether Robin is a man or a woman."

"What?" Her pen clatters to the table. "Is there anyone else like that in the story?"

"Nope. Well, sorta. In choosing Robin's sex, you also implicitly choose the sex of Robin's future child."

"How come I'm the one that doesn't even get an established sex?"

"See, the story is essentially told through your eyes. The player can choose your sex, change your appearance, even rename you. In my case, I usually played the game as a male and named him Randy."

"Oh that is weeeeird," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. "I could've been a man. It was really just a coin flip."

"I mean, that's technically true for everyone, if you think about it," I offer.

"Well then," she says, picking her pen back up and looking at me intently. "Who did you usually pair the 'Randy' that existed in the game with?"

Why do I feel like there isn't a right answer to this question?

"Do I really have to say? It seems weird."

"There's nothing weird about it. You played as 'Randy' because you wanted to feel like you were experiencing the story yourself, right? I just want to know who you found most appealing in the game is all," she replies simply.

I could lie. It wouldn't be hard. I could say, like, Say'ri or someone else we haven't met yet. I could say I don't pair Robin off at all. But I feel like she'd know if I lied. I might as well just say it. She already suspects it anyway, if I'm remembering her chart right.

"Fine. It was usually Cordelia."

She nods. "It seems I was right, then."

"I-it's not like I wanna date her now though!" Why do I want to deny that I like Cordelia? I shouldn't feel guilty about this, should I? I guess I did leave things on an uncomfortable note with Cordelia today, though.

"I didn't say you do. You're just usually so guarded about this kind of thing, so it's nice to have some insight is all," she replies with a superior smile. "Am I allowed to ask why you like her?"

"Oh, jeez… Well, for one thing, she's one of the strongest units in the game. Her skillset and battle stats are crazy powerful," I say, keeping as even a demeanor as I can.

"That's true. She's one of our best fighters, for sure. But come on, that can't be all. Do you think she's pretty? Do you like her long red hair? Is it the pegasus knight armor? Her lean, muscular build?" She's having too much fun with this.

"Okay, yes, she's attractive," I admit, my face burning. "And she's smart. And she's really nice and helpful pretty much all the time. And super humble about what a badass she is. She's just really cool, I dunno!"

"There. Was that so hard?" Her smirk is maddening.

"Well what about you?" I fire back. "You didn't even have a row on that damn chart when Chrom and I looked at it. Do you really not find any of us guys appealing enough to consider?"

Her redness returns along with a scowl. "I-I never said that! I just didn't include myself in the chart because I don't need to keep notes on how I'm feeling, that's all!"

"Well how do you feel then? Who would you pair Robin with?" It's kind of fun being on the other side of this interaction.

She makes a few startup noises—"P'che, f'sh, j'well, I mean, uh"—before managing to get a sentence out. "There's lots of guys in the Shepherds that would be great partners! I'd say most of them, even!"

"What about Virion?"

She grimaces. "Pass."

"Vaike?"

"Come on. I mean guys like Stahl. Like Lon'qu. Hell, sometimes I think even you could if you wanted to."

I lean in across the table and narrow my eyes seductively. "Oh, I could, could I? Is there a dashing, debonair charmer buried beneath this gruff exterior, Robin?"

She rolls her eyes. "If he's in there, he's buried deep."

"You wound me."

"I think you'll live."

"Well anyway, you're being too vague. What do you want in a guy?" I ask.

She thinks for a bit, her finger resting on her chin. She looks at something on the wall behind me as she says, "He's gotta be smart, but being smart can't be his whole personality. He's gotta be funny, but still able to take things seriously when necessary. I guess he just has to make me laugh when I need it. It wouldn't hurt if he was handsome, too. And he's gotta have some ambition to be better than he is. Some goal that he's striving for."

"Well, that's me ruled out, then. God knows I'm an incurable dumbass," I reply with a resigned shrug.

"Hardy-har," she retorts exasperatedly. "I know you know you're plenty smart."

"You know, back in America, one of the most popular ships for you, the female Robin, is Chrom. Is Chrom shippable for you?" I ask smugly.

"What's a ship?"

"It's like, a desire to see others get together. Like you and that chart. That could be considered a shipping chart. And your desire to see two people romance each other is a ship."

"Huh. Anyway, not even. Chrom doesn't even see me as a woman in the first place," she says with a frown.

"In-game, he can get over that if the player wants him to," I point out.

"And anyway, whatever this game of yours says, clearly our version of Chrom is irretrievably in love with Maribelle, so it's a moot point."

"You don't think you could use your feminine wiles to snatch him out of the duchess's grasp?"

"Psh. I don't even think I have those," she says, waving her hand dismissively.

"What, feminine wiles? Sure ya do. Every cute girl does," I tease.

If she weren't already looking at me, I think that might have gotten a double-take out of her. "C-cute? Who says I'm cute?"

"Well, I do, I guess," I reply. It wasn't so embarrassing the first time, but being made to repeat it is. "You know, you look… nice."

Several long, heavy seconds pass.

"Well, ahah, thank you then," Robin says. "I didn't know people thought that."

"Oh sure! Everyone thinks that, I'm sure," I reply, too quickly. What the hell has happened to this conversation? We were talking about the future apocalypse a few minutes ago.

Her hand moves to cover her mouth, but I can see the sides of a smile poking out from behind. My stomach twirls at the sight. Weird. "I've never had a chance to, you know, make an effort at looking nice," she says. "I don't even really know how."

"I definitely can't help you there," I say. "As a guy, I just bathe, trim the beard, wash the hair, iron the clothes, and that's it. Girls are more complicated."

"They are?"

"So I've gathered. If I were you, I'd ask Lissa or Maribelle about it."

"Huh… What were we talking about before?" she asks suddenly.

"Uhh, the end the world, I think."

"No, after that… Oh yeah! Future kids. You were saying there's stuff that you told Lucina not to tell you about them."

"Right. So anyway, the point is, the story is consistent on what kids exist and, generally, who their mothers are. In Lucina's case, the consistent factor is she's always Chrom's kid. But as a result, I don't know who a lot of the kids' fathers will be, and I don't want that spoiled to me because my own foreknowledge about it could lead me to inadvertently mess things up."

"I see. So the same reason you didn't want to tell me too much before."

"Exactly. There are a few kids I'm pretty sure about, like I'm pretty much convinced that Kellam is the father of Miriel's son Laurent. And I have my own theories on some others. But I try to at least act like I don't know. These couples range from 'haven't even met yet' to 'literally engaged,' but none of them are thinking about kids just yet. I don't want to drop that bomb on them for the time being."

"I think the general rule of thumb should be that no one gets to know about their future child until they are, at the very least, engaged with their partner," Robin says.

"Something like that. We can codify the rules later. Anyway, yes. I do know Lucina. She's kind of been my hidden ace up to now. And now you're part of our circle of trust. I would've liked to confer with her before making that call, but you're just too sharp," I say. Robin tries and fails to hide a proud smile. "So no telling anyone, got it?"

"Who would I even tell? You're like the only person I would talk to about stuff like that," Robin says.

That's comforting, but also kind of a bummer to think she doesn't consider anyone else in the Shepherds a close enough friend to even consider the possibility she could be tempted to tell them. When we're not worrying about the trial, the Patriots, and everything else, I'd like to do something about that.

My thoughts are interrupted by a low, several-seconds-long growl. Robin places her hand over her stomach as if to stifle the noise. She gives me a guilty look.

"Robin, have you eaten today?" I ask.

"Not since breakfast," she admits.

"Come on, ya goof. Let's go fix that," I say, standing up to help her gather the trial prep materials together.

I really do owe Robin a lot for all that she's been doing to help me. I'll have to make it up to her somehow, and not just by talking ships with her.

---

"What do you mean, 'he's just gone'?" Flavia shouts incredulously.

"I don't know what else I can say, Khan," the cowed soldier replies, staring at the floor between the khan regent's feet. "Last anyone knew, he was on the mend after he returned from Southtown. No one's sure when he left, or how. Some said he went with you, others thought he was still here after you left for Themis. Things got so crazy after Gangrel called for those peace talks."

"I don't want to hear that ambush described as a 'peace talk' ever again," the khan growls.

"Of course, Khan. Anyway, I don't have anything else I can say. The man just got lost in the wake of all the other distractions going on. No one has seen him lately."

"It was Randall. He's been allowed to roam freely through the city ever since we returned. And now the most important witness against him is nowhere to be found. I want him found, now. And I'm going to see Chrom about this. If Regulus is dead, it's as much on Chrom's head as it is Randall's."

The khan storms out of the small house, the blood ringing in her ears.

---

"What's that?" Henry asks the crow perched on his shoulder. "That girl who came to get Randall before is coming back here? Huh! Wonder why!"

He flips idly through the pages of his Ruin tome, admiring the runes on the pages, as he walks to the outskirts of town. Sure enough, something has caught the attention of a large number of crows in the trees. Their gaze is locked onto a shadowy figure making its way through the brush toward the edge of town.

"Hey there!" Henry calls, waving cheerfully with the hand that isn't holding his tome.

The figure pauses, then emerges from the brush. Just like the crow said, it's that girl from before.

"Whatcha doin'?" Henry asks as Lucina approaches, her expression equal parts miffed, embarrassed, and impressed.

"I came to see Vasto. It's an urgent matter that needs his attention," she says.

"Okay! Come with me and I'll take you to him. Careful though, cuz if you make a move to hurt him, I'll take your head off, okay?" Henry says without an iota of malice.

"I'll keep that in mind," Lucina grumbles, eyeing the tome in his hand. Is this psychopath really a future Shepherd? She can at least see why he never found a wife in her time.

Henry leads her to the stable where Vasto keeps Kinba when they aren't on missions. As he suspected, Vasto is here now. He's spent most of his time with Kinba ever since Randall left.

"Hi Vasto!" Henry shouts, making both Lucina and Vasto wince.

"What is it, Hen–" Vasto stops mid-word as he turns to see the blue-clad girl standing in the doorway. "It's you. Randall's… niece."

Lucina blinks in surprise. She's been calling Randall 'Uncle' for so long, but she's never thought of herself as his 'niece.' It sounds very strange in her ears.

"Er, yes. There's something serious I need to talk with you about right away," Lucina says, stepping into the stable. Kinba snorts derisively as Lucina approaches.

"Kinba doesn't like that sword you carry," Vasto says with a frown. Sure enough, the wyvern's reptilian eyes are trained on the Parallel Falchion at Lucina's side.

"It's specifically designed for slaying dragons," Lucina replies, resting her hand on the hilt.

"Is that a fact? You'd do well to keep it sheathed, then," Vasto says, hobbling forward so Lucina won't have to come so close to Kinba with that sword. "Now what is it? You said it was serious."

"Randall has been arrested by the Ylissean government at the request of the khans of Ferox. He's going on trial for the deaths of the Feroxi soldiers that were stationed here in Southtown, as well as for the sabotage of the peace negotiations held between the Shepherds and King Gangrel in Themis. His trial for these crimes is going to be held in Ylisstol quite soon."

Vasto is silent for a long moment, gazing at his prosthetic leg. To Lucina's surprise, when he does open his mouth, it's to laugh bitterly. "What a poetic end for that do-gooder! Strung up by the people he's done nothing but fight for, even in captivity!"

"Then you know these charges are ridiculous! You know he wasn't responsible for what happened here, and I know he wasn't even at the peace negotiations! You have to come with me to Ylisstol to testify on his behalf," Lucina says firmly.

"So the khans are bitter about losing their men here, huh? It's a war. People die all the time. What's so different about this time?" Vasto asks.

"Apparently the captain of the forces stationed here survived. He told Khan Flavia that the Patriots didn't accept their surrender and instead butchered all the Feroxi they could get ahold of, on Randall's orders."

"Well I know that didn't happen!" Henry interrupts. "I was with Randall the whole time! He didn't even fight back when the captain took us prisoner! We didn't get to leave our prison until the fight was already pretty much halfway over, which felt like a real ripoff to me."

"What?" Lucina asks disbelievingly. "You say you were with him the whole time?"

"Uh-huh!" Henry nods cheerfully.

"Then you need to come with me too. Both of you will be instrumental in defending Randall from these charges," Lucina says.

"You know, considering both of us are Plegians, and I actively tried to kill multiple Shepherds myself at Breakneck Pass, I find myself a touch reluctant to deliver myself into the hands of those same Shepherds just to defend yet another Shepherd from being executed by his own people," Vasto says. Kinba snorts in agreement, a couple stray sparks flinging from her nostrils.

"This whole situation is your fault in the first place!" Lucina can't hold herself back from shouting. "I saw you take him from the battlefield at Anchorage!"

"If you saw that, then you'll also be aware that my intervention saved his life," Vasto replies. "You might not be fond of what happened afterward, but would you rather have had to bury him in that field?"

"If you save a man from drowning only to rob him afterward, you're still a thief. Stopping Gangrel from killing Randall doesn't absolve you of kidnapping him." Lucina folds her arms.

"Good point. I am a kidnapper. Yet another reason not to deliver myself into the Exalt's hands." Vasto passes Lucina, heading for the inn. Lucina reaches out to grab him and stop him, but the sound of Henry opening his tome behind her makes her reconsider.

"You coward," Lucina spits. "Despite the dragon, and the axe, and the rebel army, you're like a child. Running from the consequences of your actions. I thought you thought of Randall as a friend. Only a spineless craven leaves his friends when they need him most."

Vasto shoots her a venomous look over his shoulder. "I don't need to be lectured to by some brat. I'll do Randall this kindness: you can leave. We won't keep you as a hostage to leverage over the Ylisseans. Now get out." He goes inside the inn, slamming the door behind him.

Lucina turns to Henry. "Surely you can see that this isn't right, Henry," she says desperately. "Can't you help us?"

Henry shrugs. "Sorry lady! I listen to what General Mustafa says, and he said to listen to Vasto."

"What about the others? The ones that were kept prisoner by the Feroxi with you and Randall?" Lucina asks.

"Hmm…" Henry ponders for a moment. "The others are all either dead or we left them at the Farfort, I think."

"The Farfort?" Lucina repeats incredulously. "There's no time to get that far and back before the trial!"

"Wish I could help ya, but no can do," Henry says, then starts heading for the edge of town to resume his watch.

Lucina's fists curl at her sides. Is there really nothing more she can do? Could she try to have the Shepherds storm the town and arrest Vasto? No, that would cause more harm than good. There'd be all-out battle, putting everyone at risk.

She wants to punch that man. That also wouldn't fix anything, but it would definitely relieve some stress.

"Are you alright?" a woman's voice says behind her. Lucina turns and sees a woman with a boy of about 12 beside her. The woman is… intimidatingly beautiful.

"I don't think it's anything that can be helped, unless you know how to make Vasto change his mind," Lucina replies, trying not to sound too defeated.

"Change his mind about what?" the woman asks kindly.

"Well…" Lucina can't decide what it is about this woman that makes her feel so trustworthy. Maybe it's her motherly demeanor. She supposes it can't hurt to ask. "A friend of mine is in trouble with the khans of Ferox, and he's going to be put on trial. He's innocent of the crimes he's been charged with, and Vasto knows this, but he still won't testify on his behalf. And if he doesn't, Henry won't either."

"I see. Who is this friend of yours?" the woman asks.

"His name is Randall."

The woman's eyes widen with surprise. "You… You're a Shepherd, aren't you?"

"How do you know that? Did you know Randall when he was with the Patriots?" Lucina asks.

"I suppose I'm a little hurt he evidently doesn't talk about his dear friend Octavia much, but yes. I consider him a personal friend." Octavia's face hardens. "You don't have to worry about a thing. I'll see to Vasto myself."

"You will?" Lucina does recall Randall mentioning an Octavia before, now that she thinks about it. She's the one who made his staff, Longinus, into the hybrid weapon it is now. He only ever mentioned her in a positive light.

"Yes. Mikkel, entertain Randall's friend for a bit for me, won't you?" Octavia asks the boy at her side. "I need to have a word with Vasto."

"O-okay," the boy named Mikkel stammers, stepping forward. "Hi. I'm Mikkel," he says, extending his hand robotically.

Lucina smiles as she accepts the handshake. "Hello Mikkel. You can call me… Luci," she says. In a situation like this, using the Marth moniker seems like it would create more problems than it would solve.

"I'll be back soon," Octavia says, walking with her shoulders cocked back toward the inn, leaving Lucina and Mikkel alone.

When Octavia has gone, Lucina turns to the boy. "So what do you like to do?"

Mikkel shrugs wordlessly.

Lucina's shoulders slump slightly. "Come on, there must be something you're interested in."

Mikkel mumbles something.

She leans in. "What's that?"

"What… happened to your eye?" he asks, barely audible.

"Oh, this?" Lucina gestures to the bandages covering her Branded eye. "My eye isn't hurt. But I have to keep it hidden. It has… secret powers."

Despite the boy's bashfulness, he can no longer hide his interest. "What kind of powers?"

Lucina smiles mischievously. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore, right?"

Mikkel pouts. "Fiiine. Do your powers make you a powerful swordswoman?" he asks, eyeing the Parallel Falchion.

"You could say that. People without my secret powers can't use this sword," she says.

"Can I see it?" he asks.

Lucina can't help but indulge the boy. He reminds her equally of her brother Brady and her cousin Owain. The sensitivity of the former, but with the latter's hunger for the spectacular. She draws the sword and holds it in front of him.

"Whoa… And only you can wield it? Cool," Mikkel says, awed by the elegant blade. "Does it have a name?"

"The name of this sword has been lost to time," she replies. "In this time, it's just my sword."

"The magic sword with no name… wow."

Lucina giggles quietly. Once she got him talking, he was really quite friendly. His mother had seemed kind as well.

It makes her want to believe what Randall told her before. That for all the Patriots' faults, they are mostly good people. Whatever ends up happening with the trial, she finds herself hoping that war with the Patriots can be avoided in the end.

---

The morning of Gangrel's trial arrives. I'm glad I at least got ahold of some decent clothes for the occasion. Dark brown pants and a matching coat that I can't decide whether to call a blazer or a sport coat (largely because I never learned the difference), and a black button-up shirt. I'd hardly call it the clothing of nobility. It's not like it's brightly colored or made of silk or velvet or whatever, but I think it looks pretty sharp if I do say so myself.

For the first time in a while, I actually trim my beard to make it nice and even. I also take care to arrange my ponytail neatly before leaving the barracks. I head out the door with a somewhat-fresh roll in my hand. I don't want to overdo breakfast before I take the stand. Even though this trial isn't against me, and I have nothing to worry about yet, my gut still churns a bit when I think about what today is.

Robin is waiting for me outside. She's changed up her look as well for today. Instead of the usual tanktop, she's wearing a chestplate that shines platinum in the morning sun. I glance down and see she's got leg armor to match. It isn't until I notice the blue and gold shawl over her shoulders that it clicks.

"You were promoted," I say with an impressed whistle. "It's about time."

She smiles, puffing out her chest a bit. "You like it?"

"Definitely. It suits you." I notice something else. Instead of the usual twintails, she's pulled her hair into one ponytail at the back of her head. "I see we match today," I say, giving my own tail a fwip in her direction.

"I thought it looked more… I dunno, mature. The Grandmaster General needs to look professional when she's going to court, even as a witness." She shrugs.

"Works for me," I reply. "Let's get going. I suspect the courthouse is going to be packed."

"Right."

We head for the west side of town, where the little courthouse is located. True to my prediction, a crowd has formed outside the courthouse doors. Some members of the town guard help us wade through the crowd and get inside the building.

The Ylisstol courthouse only has one courtroom. It's a relatively plain room, mostly decorated in wood with some portraits of important but unfamiliar people dotting the walls. Relatively few windows make this a quite dimly lit room, even in the morning. Must be nice having so little crime that your community only ever needs to hold one trial at a time, I think as we're guided to the front of the room. I'm surprised to see, of all people, Sumia's family sitting up in the second row. Robin and I are directed by Francis the prosecutor to sit next to them on the long benches that line both sides of the room in rows. I guess they're probably here to testify about the ambush at the Anchorage estate and the attack on the village.

Sumia gives us a friendly wave as we sit, and her little sister Tricia imitates her. I smile and return the gesture. After we're settled, more witnesses file in and join us. I note to myself that apparently the procedure of Ylissean court is not to have witnesses wait outside the courtroom until it's their time to testify, like what's usually done in American court. I guess they're not as concerned about witnesses influencing each other's testimony here.

All of the Shepherds, Chrom and Maribelle excepted, end up seated near us in the rows of benches. I guess they do have the strongest interest in seeing Gangrel put to the sword.

After the Shepherds, other important-looking people file in and fill the remaining benches. I glance behind me and see that there's still a massive crowd gathered outside, hoping to get a glimpse of the trial. I can't blame them. Should be a hell of a show.

---

"You're gonna be great, Maribelle," Chrom says kindly, helping me adjust my black judge's robes. I must admit, even though I spent much of my youth preparing to interact with high society, I still find myself more than a bit nervous. My first case as a magistrate, and it's the most important trial our country has seen in living memory.

When my robe is on, Chrom takes a step back to look at me. "Perfect. A perfect fit." I can't help but probe my hair a bit. I felt that the usual curls were not appropriate for a courtroom, so I have pulled my hair into a tight, orderly bun. The back of my neck feels cold, exposed.

"Alright. No sense waiting any longer," I say, surprised by the shakiness of my own voice.

"Hey," Chrom says, prompting me to look in his eyes. Even in this dim back room, lit only by the candles on the table, they shine clearly and confidently. "There's no one more qualified for this. You're ready," he says.

I nod, attempting to match his confidence. "Alright. I'm ready."

We leave the back room and enter the courtroom, where the crowd is already seated. "All rise," the town guard serving as our bailiff commands as I enter, and everyone in the room stands up. I see many of my friends as I make my way to the judge's bench, standing in the first few rows on the prosecution's side. I catch Randy's eye as I sit down. He gestures to his own hair covertly, points at me, and finally gives me a wink and a thumbs-up. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes and laugh. At least he's dressed relatively nicely for the occasion.

"Please be seated," I say, and the crowd obeys. Admittedly, there's a petty part of me that enjoyed the exercise of arbitrary power. "Bring in the defendant." A guard stationed in the back of the courtroom exits the building. About a minute later, he returns, though his arrival is announced beforehand with the jeers and boos of the crowd outside the courthouse.

Gangrel is brought into the room. He looks worse for wear. His ostentatious royal garb has been exchanged for a simple black tunic and pants. His normally swept back hair has grown untidy and now just sits on his head, like a dirty rust-colored mop head. His formerly well-kept beard has been overtaken with rough stubble across his face.

It's a good look for him, I think with grim satisfaction.

As he is seated by the guard who brought him in, I look over the crowd. "I hereby call this court to order. The case of the Halidom of Ylisse versus Gangrel, King of Plegia, Magistrate Judge Maribelle Osprey presiding. Will the prosecution make their appearance, please?"

The middle-aged man sitting on my right at the prosecution table rises. "May it please the court, Francis Cargill appears on behalf of the Halidom of Ylisse."

"Thank you. And will the defense make their appearance?" I look over at Gangrel, sitting alone at his table. He doesn't move. "Make your appearance," I repeat.

He sneers at me. "I don't recognize the authority of this court to judge me."

"In point of fact, we have been in contact with the regional lords of Plegia. They have unanimously agreed to cede prosecutorial authority to the halidom in exchange for us not arresting and prosecuting them as well," I inform him, not quite succeeding in keeping the condescending tone out of my voice. "We have internationally recognized authority to judge you. And in any case, you have made your appearance known to this court by speaking at all."

"Damnable traitors, the lot of them. Have your little trial if it will make you feel better about claiming my head," Gangrel says, refusing to look at me any longer.

"Well, I suppose if we have your leave, we will proceed," I reply, getting a small laugh from the audience. "Let's begin."

---

A/N: Hey there gang! Took longer than I wanted to for this chapter, but when you spend as much time as I have writing for actual work, you find your enthusiasm for doing even more writing as a hobby to be a bit, shall we say, lacking? In any case, I appreciate everyone's patience, and while I wasn't looking, this story passed a few milestones I never would have expected back in summer of '17. Bafflingly, more than 1000 people have decided they want to keep up with the story, which blew my mind. Around the same time, the story passed 250,000 views on the site. I can't tell you how grateful I am for everyone who's made it this far with me. More than three and a half years out, and I still have discussions with readers about different things related to the story. I seriously love all of you.

And of course, as is custom, Mixed Valence must be thanked in particular. His insights on the story have been invaluable over the years, and I have him to thank in large part for the story's continued success and enthusiasm. You all know what to do: check that man's stories! And here is your Mixed Valence out-of-context quote of the week: "I don't trust states that 3/4 of the letters are fuckin' vowels. So that goes for Ohio and Iowa."

Let's catch up with some reviews:

Morningold: Hey Kirb :) Thanks for the kind words

ARSLOTHES: I think you're far from alone in that hope. Glad I've managed to sell you on it!

DD360: Sorry if that bated breath kept up longer than I intended D: Of course, you know how much fun I have writing Robin. Originally she wasn't going to have that big a role in this chapter, but then I just sorta kept writing and kept liking what came out. Whoops! On the subject of Randall, I hope what's becoming increasingly clear is that the man can't even have the time to process what all has happened. For him, the war isn't over yet, both literally and psychologically. Should be interesting to explore that further down the line. As for Gangrel's trial, sorry to leave that on a cliffhanger of sorts, but I want to dedicate at least the bulk of a chapter to it. I hope you'll enjoy what ultimately comes of it!

Alteros: I'm glad you enjoy the chapter titles! Someone told me it reminded them of the way Rick Riordan named chapters back in the Percy Jackson books, which I didn't expressly have in mind when I started naming chapters that way, but now I think it must have been an unconscious influence on me. Coming up with the chapter title after I've finished a draft is always the enjoyable cherry on top of the writing sundae.

Crainium9: Somehow I doubt you'll get this far, but in case you do: that's valid. My reliance on suspension of disbelief re number of coincidences was probably overdone in the early days. I like to think that's improved, but I guess the readers are the judge of that.

Chretner: Thanks again for your kind words! Yeah, the reunion experience is kind of a work in progress. Randall is physically back, yes, but it's hard to say everything is back to anything resembling normal. We have some time in the timeskip to play out that recovery process, which I hope will prove interesting.

Boy Knight: You've pretty much hit on the head everything I was hoping readers would take from that chapter, which makes my really happy. I really enjoy writing characters like Gaius and Nowi, and as you saw in this chapter, Lissa as well. In a story that has increasingly thrived on seriousness and drama in recent years, characters that organically provide some light and levity are a godsend. And God knows Randall in particular is in need of that lately. Glad you're enjoying!

Alice Fairchild: I never forget, except for the numerous times that I forget things~ I'm glad you're enjoying! Yeah, that's one of the hardest things about translating the experience of a game where you control like a dozen soldiers to an actual war experience. Thankfully, the Feroxi army has been a valuable resource for balancing the conflict. And as was hinted in Chapter 45, there will soon enough be a real Ylissean military force as well. I think overall I'm pretty pleased with how the portrayal of larger battles has turned out.

Maxis the Mercenary: They're not the easiest group to love, that's for sure. You may or may not be pleased with what happens with them down the line. I'm curious to see what folks will make of what I have in mind for them.

SubtleKitsune: Yeah, I agree I've been beating Randall up for a while. He's not quiiite out of the woods yet, but he's in something resembling a home stretch, at least for now. Glad you're enjoying!

Ren4gade: The temptation to make a reference or five is going to be crazy strong, for sure. Hope you're excited for the trials to begin in earnest next chapter!

sundered starlight: Thanks for that comprehensive review! I'll try and address everything you've brought up. As you've no doubt noticed by now, I love taking characters with almost no presence in the source material and making them significant. Giving them names, backstories, actually concrete motivations, I love that stuff. I also dig the occasional OC, as you've seen by now. On top of that, taking beloved characters and showing a new but still believable side to them is also a favorite of mine, which has been my strategy with characters like Chrom and Maribelle.
As for tone, I think the early story probably suffered a bit from me actively trying to be funny. I found a lot more success tonally when I decided to just write the way that felt natural. Glad that appears to be working.
Honestly, the Patriot Arc probably was too bloated. If I were to do it again, I'd try to slim it up. Even so, I'm happy with what ultimately came out of it. I think I'm better as a writer for it.
As for the timeskip, there will at least be some time for our heroes to, while not exactly relax, at least get a chance to regroup. I look forward to what folks think of my plans for this narratively treacherous gap!
You know, I actually haven't seen Edge of Tomorrow, nor have I read All You Need Is Kill, both of which I need to remedy. But I definitely love stories of that type, and having it be a power shared by two people was an interesting twist on that idea I thought. It seems folks like it, which is part of why I think the Patriot Arc was probably too long. People love them some respawns!
In fairness, I kind of got over that "is he useful?" hump pretty inorganically by just sorta starting him with a staff and the knowledge that he's at least capable of using it. That's probably more than the average SI writer gives their hero (I really should read more SIs myself and confirm that). Regardless, I'm relieved to hear he feels like part of the group. That's always been the goal.
As for Lucina and Randall's former relationship with Maribelle, it's possible it could come up. Possibly. We'll see ;)

knightoblivion: I love me a binge-reader! And damn, two days for like 450k words is impressive! Sorry I had to bring that blistering pace to a halt D:

devo342: I loooved writing Gangrel. Getting to dive into that guy has been one of my favorite things about this story so far. I'm happy he's resonated with readers so far.

EmptySpot: I see none of my smaller choices hinting at developments down the road have gone unnoticed! Very flattering for me~ Hope this chapter fed that hunger a bit more!

Join the Discord: discord. gg/ 3mdunvc

As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!

BY THE WAY: as a reward for those who made it this far and are not yet part of the Discord, I have a secret just for you. I haven't been totally without new content since October. I had a Christmas update I prepared for the folks in the server, and I think anyone who's made it this far will find it interesting. I'd be happy to point you to it ;)