Chapter 5: Fallen And Risen
She could get used to sleeping like this; knowing that there's another set of eyes and ears to watch over her, and trusting Chrom to guard her just as she watches over him. Even as she sinks into sleep, Robin considers that word.
'Trust.'
It's an oddly pleasant word. And a word that she wonders at, with how she's gone without such a thing for so long. Much like trading out her paws for hands, it's becoming difficult to imagine her life without it. Without Chrom…
Perhaps that's why she dreams of him.
In her mind, they run through a night cloaked forest, this time stride for stride, dashing alongside the other instead of a chase. She wants to lead him to all the spots in the forest now; through the dens, around hidden lakes and waterfalls, and into the sunlit meadows tucked between trees. And he seems ready to follow her wherever they dash-
'Well. Aren't you both a lovely picture.' Sneers a voice; one that she already knows doesn't belong in her dreams, and is tinged with dark fur and a blood red gaze. Just like the wolf from the ruins. It sends her skidding to a stop, her paws sliding across river waters and stones. She crashes to the ground in a wolfish shape, and feels Chrom hesitate at the shore.
As though he's still afraid of her.
'It won't take much more now; another bite, another shock to his mind, and he'd be completely given over to the forest. And a loyal slave to your will.' His scars from her last bite show in lurid pink and red across his flesh, and she can see splashes of dark blue fur scattered along his arms.
'Don't you WANT to be the leader? To have dominion over your own pack-?'
She snarls at that, whirling from Chrom lashing out blindly with her teeth, like she can crunch the voice between them. Because if there's one thing she's learned from all this, it's what a pack is and isn't. When she ran as a lone wolf, she knew what isolation was, the pain of trying to reach out with her howls… Until she had someone answer her. And over the days, she's learned that she doesn't want to subdue and dominate others. That's just another form of being alone.
All of that stays locked behind her teeth, much as Robin wants to scream it out… But she gets the impression the smug voice may have heard her, regardless. She can feel it shrink away with a disdainful snarl of its own.
'Foolish, headstrong pup. You don't know what real power and dominion is… But you'll have time to learn. Particularly when you see how fragile bonds are; he's NOT your equal in strength or savagery. You'll learn that soon enough.'
Even as she bares fangs against the voice, she can also pick out Chrom's nervous breathing; like he's caught between reaching out to her, and running away. Like he's seen that she's still a beast, when the mood takes her. She doesn't want to turn to face him; not when she wears a different, wolfish skin… And yet she finds herself pulled towards him, seeking him out.
"Robin." Chrom's voice echoes in her ear, before she can find him. "Robin."
The dream blurs around her, dissolves into blackness, which Robin realizes is the inside of her eyelids.
"Robin…? Wake up." Her eyes are surprisingly compliant, with how they blink open. Her mouth stretches wide in a yawn as well, and her tongue picks out just a hint of fangs in her mouth.
She's still mostly human.
She never thought that notion would calm her so much.
Chrom blinks down at her, and gradually she becomes aware of how his arms cradle her. This time, it's his body encircling her, keeping their warmth trapped between them.
"Well… I see you made it through another night." She says. Chrom nods at that, and gives her a sleepy grin… And somehow, seeing that makes her heart give a sharp lurch and skip.
"I also owe a bit of thanks to you. You DO make for a good blanket… That wasn't too familiar, was it?" He tries to joke. She glances down at them, to where her tail has once again wrapped around Chrom.
"I… As long as it kept you safe." She can't help but notice patches of fur remain along his own limbs, helping to insulate him. Chrom notices that as well, frowning down at himself.
"Well… At least I'm still human enough to shelter under Naga's branches. And so were you." He glances away from his changes, and upwards to a brightening sky. Watery blue dawn spills through the leaves, dimming the glow of the tree. Robin frowns at him… Still uncertain about her ability to stand between worlds.
"…Seems like you've got some lingering doubts, too." Chrom tells her, and she starts at that; he's gotten better at reading her. Just as she's grown to better understand him. And part of that understanding is knowing what that light in his eyes means; he's determined to figure out what's troubling her.
"I… Remain undecided. On if it would be better to stay in the wilds, or…"
"…Or…?" Chrom presses, insistent on figuring out what troubles her. She should break from his hold, Robin knows. That might mend the ever-present pang in her heart. But instead, she finds herself gazing at Chrom.
"Or… If I want to risk following you, into the human kingdoms. And learning more about this part of me." She looks down at her arms, at the parts of her shape that remain mostly human.
"Well… We've a ways to travel, before I can get the ring back to Ylisse. Emmeryn knows the details to these rings better than I do-" Chrom touches the band around his fingers. A breath later and he gives a sharp wince, and pawing at the metal. He drops the ring, and she can see a matching band almost burned into the skin of his ring finger. She can also see hints of blue fur, growing out from that scar tissue.
Chrom balls his hands into fists, squeezing at the ring in his paw-like palms.
"…But how we're going to reach Emmeryn looking like this, I don't know."
"I can at least lead you back towards the castle." Robin offers. For her part, her mind is trying to whirl into activity, to harry this problem the same way a wolf chases a deer, until she finds a solution. One that doesn't end with her having to choose between Chrom and the forest. "We'll figure out what to do from there."
-o-o-o-
They take their time, moving through the forest and back towards the castle.
The closer they get to the walled city, the more the forest thins out. Instead of verdant green, now they walk among patches of dead areas, where the trees are cleared away, and only the sharp points of stumps remain. A few branches litter the ground like fallen bodies and broken limbs… And it all stills Chrom for a moment.
He wonders, at how he ever managed to feel pride over such a thing.
"Chrom…?" Robin's voice pulls him away from such thoughts; she doesn't stare at the clear cut area, but instead has her eyes fixed on the great towers of Ylisstol off in the distance. "I… Never understood before, how a home could grow from stone. But it looks…"
There's a strange sense of wonder in her voice. A desire to know more.
"It looks… Interesting to me. It makes me wonder-"
"Would you like to know more about it?" Chrom instantly asks, glad to have something to focus on. Even after everything he's been through, there's something welcoming about the towers of Ylisstol.
"Yes…" Robin tells him. "But I doubt if there's a place for someone like me."
"That's… That isn't true." Chrom argues, even as he thinks back to hunting trophies lining the castle walls, the fangs and claws so proudly worn on the necks of their warriors. "At least… That shouldn't be true."
"Isn't that the way things are?" Robin hangs back as she speaks… And that absence pushes an odd ache through him.
"Well maybe the way things are is all wrong!" His voice snaps out, and he's not sure who he is raising it against; Robin, or the ways of Ylisstol… Or those who ordered the way of things. He glares up, to the main castle hall looming above the walls. And then there is the palace wing off to the side, where he knows Emmeryn is kept. Still imprisoned, even while he wanders the wilds. "Maybe… Things need to change."
Robin looks between Chrom and the castle, her ears giving a restless flick.
"W-we should probably rest up." She says at last, glancing away from both of Chrom and Ylisse and looking to the setting sun. Chrom wants to argue, that they've got several hours of daylight left, and that marching through the woods by moonlight doesn't sound so bad… But he also notices how her tail drags on the floor, gathering twigs and dirt.
'Maybe you should focus on the needs of someone else.' He reminds drops herself low to the ground, pawing at the soil before her eyes snap to the forest border. She leads him back through the trees, to where a sweet scent lingers in the air. In between the branches is a soft meadow of pale flowers.
"Night blooms." Robin names them, looking ready to curl up among the flowers.
"R-right. Might as well make camp." Chrom finds himself saying. "It's not like the castle is going anywhere in a hurry."
-o-o-o-
"…Would you teach me how to sing?" Chrom asks her that night, under the full moons. It's unnerving, how those twin eyes have never once blinked closed, no matter how much time stretches by; it's like they are watching, waiting for some change. Though right now, they seem to be staring at Chrom.
Much like Robin. She's still not certain if she's heard him correctly.
"O-or howl. Or whatever it is you call what you do."
"Why do you want to learn how to howl? I thought you were…" She gestures to his body, and where he's tugged at his sleeves or cape to hide the patches of fur on his limbs. In answer, Chrom nervously shifts his arms behind his back.
"It's… It's about my sisters, not about me." He takes pity on the way she tilts her head, and elaborates. "Your howl called me into the forest in the first place. And maybe if we're lucky, that would do the same for them. We could talk without my father looming over us, or needing to worry about skirmishes with Ylisse and the forest or… Well, it's the best idea I had."
He finishes, and the air seems to drain out of him. Like he's already second guessing himself.
"Of course it… It's all a bit of a long shot. I don't even know if I could-"
"Breathe deep, with your stomach." Robin cuts him off. "Start with that, if you want your voice to carry past the walls."
She coaches him as the skies darken, and the moons glow brighter. His first notes are wobbly and half-hearted, like a pup not sure of its voice. She raises her own voice, and gets rewarded when he tries to match the volume.
Their songs last long into the night, growing richer as the sky darkens and soft runes sprout along the flower petals. Robin half wants to break from the calls and read the sigils; maybe they'll spark something in her head, and give her more clarity. Maybe they'll make all the disparate stories and lore click into her head… But she also doesn't want to leave Chrom to sing alone.
Instead she lets the symbols seep into her head, saving the odd meanings and circular patterns for later.
"Getting better," she says at last and finds herself giving him an open mouthed smile at that, tongue almost ready to loll out of her mouth. Yet odd as the gesture feels on her human face, Chrom still seems to recognize it, and return it with a shaky grin of his own. "Maybe your voice CAN reach them, once we get closer."
Though a part of her hopes that she won't have to bid farewell to Chrom anytime soon… And something about that thought chills her.
-o-o-o-
He's losing track of the days, as they explore the forest perimeter, observe the castle, and look for more clues regarding the rings. And what's even more worrisome is that Chrom doesn't mind how much time has slipped past him. What he does cares about is that he doesn't face the days and nights alone.
'What's wrong with me?' He doubts his father would approve of any of this; that he's a prince with wildling blood, and has given his loyalty to another half-wild creature.
And yet, Chrom wouldn't change any of this. Not the days spent wandering the woods, nor the nights like tonight, sheltered under another of Naga's gentle glowing trees, at the edge of the forest.
For the first time in a long while, he knows where he belongs. It isn't in a castle, and neither is it being swallowed up by the wilds. He clings to that thought as he turns about, facing Robin, gathering his breath and his courage.
Because there's something else he's realized, with this time spent in her company.
"Robin," he starts, and wonders at how she pauses. "There's… Something I've figured out."
Now if only he can voice that realization. And he'd best do it before Robin decides to bolt; she almost looks half ready to do that, with how she tenses up and watches him. There must be something in his eyes or his voice that sets Robin on edge.
"W-wait a moment, please." He holds a hand up, ready to reach out and brush over her shoulders. "Please, can I voice my thoughts-?"
"…What if you voice something you regret?" She asks instead… But she also doesn't shrink from his grasp. There's an almost desperate look in her eyes.
"I-I wouldn't regret telling you this. That I-"
A shrieking fills the air, snatching the rest of his words from his throat. And it's a sound Chrom knows all too well; it's the call of arrows and spears filling the air, looking to strike home on a target. He throws his arms over Robin and pitches them both forward, into the undergrowth. A heartbeat later, strands of steel bloom from the guardian tree, ugly and dark against the silvery bark.
Robin rolls to her feet, already snarling. Chrom follows her a little more slowly, but his hand finds the grip of Falchion quick enough.
He looks to the source of the arrows… And for an instant, his fear vanishes. A figure in silvery robes is before them, seated atop a snowy mare. Her robes are trimmed in green and gold, her hair still radiant blonde even in the wane moonlight. And though months have come and gone, Chrom still recognizes her face, and her ever serene expression.
"E-Emmeryn…" He whispers out, taking a step towards her. "I can't believe it. You're here-!"
But even as he speaks, something feels wrong. Robin gives a soft growl as well, yet Emmeryn reacts to none of it. Not his words, or Robin's snarling. There's a glassy quality to her eyes, and they can't seem to focus on Chrom… And she doesn't even register Chrom's changes, even as his new ears and tail twitch. She's almost a phantasm… And an omen of a greater force.
Chrom looks beyond Emmeryn, and finds himself facing the Shepherds. All of them bristling with swords, spears, and arrows… And all of the weaponry leveled on Chrom himself. The eyes of the soldiers are like daggers, digging into his skin, and taking in his changes. He tries to keep his hackles from bristling, and puts his ears flat against his head, desperately hoping he can hide them… And that perhaps, somehow, the others will recognize him-
"Ch-Chrom-?" His new ears twitch and pick out Lissa's voice, and the uncertainty behind it. The next moment his eyes find his younger sister… And the confusion in her face cuts straight to the heart. He takes a step back, boots scrapping the dirt and tail dragging on the ground.
"That isn't…" Frederick rides up beside her. The knight tries to speak, and yet something steals his words. He sits rigid in the saddle, eyes carefully blank as he stares down at Chrom; looking at him as though he's just another beast of the forest. And Chrom knows that he can't hide his own changes, not from Frederick's piercing eyes. Or hide from-
"That is not your brother." A cold voice takes over for Frederick, and Chrom sees his father at the head of the hunting party, resplendent in royal armor… And with a new hunting spear leveled at Chrom. The starlight glimmers on gold and silver inlay on the spear, drawing hundreds of eyes.
An entire castle has turned out for his execution. A part of him feels he should be honored. The rest of him is subsumed in a strange, numbing pain.
"Look at him. He's beast blooded now. A traitor and a heretic-"
"Is this how you treat your bravest!?" Robin's voice snaps out with the force of a snarl. Even Chrom flinches from it. "He's the only one of you who braved the forest!"
"It can speak-?" Frederick hesitates… And his father glares, snapping out words of his own.
"Half beasts don't speak. They lie. They twist Naga's gift of speech into a mockery, like the mimics they are. And it's clear my former son has chosen their company and forsaken us."
"Have you lost your minds AND your eyes!?" Robin demands. "Is he the only one who remembers the legends?" His father narrows his eyes on Robin, distaste thick across his features. "He faced the forest for your sakes. Faced ME and countless other beasts. And all to find the ri-!"
A flash of silver blazes through the air, fast and brilliant as a falling star. Robin's words turn to shrieks of pain when the silver strands fall on her. In another blink, Chrom recognizes what's happened. Robin collapses to the ground, tangled in a web of gleaming lines and lassos; silver ropes, spun and blessed by the most devout of Ylisse, to fight the worst of the forest horrors.
Except they've picked the wrong target. Lissa's face has gone pale and haggard over Robin's screams… But she doesn't dare slacken her grip on her own line. Not while she's under the watchful eye of the king. He dismounts, pushing aside the soldiers as he stalks towards Robin, spear in hand.
"Now we scrub aside the blight from our lands." His father intones, raising his weapon up. "Before she cries out anymore blasphemies… And this shall set our kingdom aright."
"S-stop." Chrom begs, but the plea falls on deaf ears. His father kicks Robin to the ground, even as she snarls.
"Let Naga and Grima rest their eyes, when we shed the blood of this abomination."
"Stop this." Chrom demands, a growl seeping into his words. His father plants his foot on Robin's chest and brings the blade up-
"ENOUGH!" This time his words are a roar, so full of fury it freezes the troops. His own muscles are fire, speeding his steps, as he runs and then lunges. His father is already trying to turn, snarling from Chrom's defiance… And showing his own teeth.
But they are blunt things, and even the king's spear is slow compared to Chrom, falling like a lazy leaf instead of like lightning. It's the easiest thing for Chrom to twist his body around the spear and slam shoulder first into his father. His father starts to draw a dagger… But instead, Chrom snaps out with his hands, and feels his claws sharpen on the tips. He draws blood, wrenching away the weapons, and sending his father sprawling across the grass.
Chrom drops to the ground, crouched over Robin and snarling in defiance at the soldiers… Even as his body crackles and shifts. He dips his head to Robin's prone form, ready to tear the silver lines from her. But when he reaches out, a canine paw brushes against Robin. That's when he realizes how at home he feels on four limbs, instead of two… And how the entire army has shrunk away from him. Lissa is already warding herself as she watches him, and even Emmeryn clears her eyes as she stares at Chrom-
"Emm-" he wants to say… And yet all he can manage is a growl. His voice is robbed from him, and he feels his throat burn and strain from the effort. Emmeryn can only stare at him… And Chrom feels a shiver run down his back, and raising his hackles. It makes him realize that he's coated with fur now, bristling as he looms over Robin.
His father does more than bristle. Chrom thought he's seen his father angry before… But that's nothing compared to the rage and disgust curling across his father's face.
"…Abomination." Is all he says, sneering the word out. "You've forsaken even your human shape."
"Ch-Chrom….? What on earth happened-?" Robin whispered, staring up at him.
Chrom crouches over Robin, refusing to leave her. He can smell the sharp iron bite of her blood, and the burns along her skin. Glancing down, he can see where patches of fur are trying to grow around the silver snares, trying to heal her wounds. With a snarl, he jerks his head down and across… And the silver lines part like old cobwebs under his teeth, even as they burn at his mouth.
"You… You transformed? To save me-?" Robin still breathes out, blinking and staring at him, like she still can't believe what she's seeing. The lines of silver fall from her flesh, as her body desperately tries to mend the wounds. Chrom hacks and rids his mouth from the metal and blood taste. The lines have gone slack, dropped in shock.
"Look at him. He's been sundered and completely corrupted." Snaps his father, drawing Chrom' eyes. Even with the way he'd lashed out and clawed, he hasn't halted the king's ire. His father seizes up his spear again from where it had fallen. Blood pools from the claw marks along his father's flesh, and run down his arm.
"Do me a kindness and lay down; I'll make your death as painless as I can." His father says, grip white knuckled on the spear and heedless of the pain from his own wounds. For a moment, his words blur in Chrom's ears, like he can't quite make shape of the human speech… But when Robin's fingers brush over his neck, his ears give an odd prickling, and the words snap back into clarity. And Chrom bares his teeth in answer. "Same with the half breed girl-"
"F-father? Please… Wait a moment." A new voice reaches Chrom's ears. With Robin's contact, he better understands the voice… And recognizes it as Emmeryn. Her eyes keep trying to clear, as she guides her horse closer, trying to put it between her father and Chrom. The beast nervously paws the earth, both from the scent of blood, and the sight of a wolf.
The sight of Chrom himself.
But those same things don't stop Lissa, as she rushes up alongside Emmeryn.
"Sh-she's right, father! Y-you can't be serious about killing him. He's still-!"
"HE IS NOT YOUR BROTHER!" His father roars. "And if you spout those lies… Neither are you my daughter."
His voice browbeats Lissa into silence, and he narrows his eyes at Emmeryn.
"And it seems cloistering you has dulled your taste and prowess for fighting. What happened to the girl who put down wards, taming the forest?"
"She…" Emmeryn doesn't shrink from his eyes. "She has learned to listen, instead of closing off her ears."
Chrom pauses at that, and the growls still in his throat. He wonders if she's heard his voice, raised in song during the nights.
"…Heresy." His father spits. "And I'll need to rectify that. Starting with the abomination."
He turns to Chrom… And closes the distance with a flash of movement and metal, driving the spear forward. Dead leaves flutter in his wake, kicked up by his attack.
Robin gives a panicked cry and grabs Chrom by the ruff of fur. She pulls him clear from a mortal strike… Though the steel still draws a line of pain along Chrom's throat, and even Robin's arm bleeds as well, sending mingled splashes of red to soak into the dirt-
Something stirs in response to all of that. Something in the forest, and in the moonlight. Something in the very air all around them. Where droplets of red soak into the earth, blossoms of violet sprout up, the color oddly sickly.
'Rot.' Chrom has just enough time to remember, as the blooms open and send his surroundings into chaos.
A gray shadow washes over them all, bleeding through the sky and the air. The leaves stop swirling about; instead something stings his eyes, and an acrid scent burns over his nose. Motes of black flick across his vision, as a rain of ash begins… And the world shifts to gray, all the colors bleeding out of people and plant.
Only the violet blooms are unaffected, burning and glowing like arcane fires, and they seem to drive the rain of ash onward. The pale motes fall soft as snow, and freeze those they touch. Chrom sees Frederick stiffen first, eyes going wide… And then he sees the light go out of Frederick's eyes, the color replaced by gray.
Lissa gives a high, half-strangled noise as the ashes fall over her, draining the colors from her sunny dress and turning it to slate. A lethargy tries to sink into Chrom's limbs as he watches. His fur bristles in retaliation, shedding the gray coating like he's shaking snow from his form.
And in the place of numbing ash comes frantic panic; because he can see the Shepherds all slow. All turn to a still slate color. His father has shrunk away, screaming a retreat… But there are few who can follow his orders. Sully has frozen in place, along with her horse; the poor creature caught as it tries to rear up and escape the waves of gray.
And Chrom can only watch, his body twitching and fighting against the change that sweeps and petrifies everyone else… And leaves them as stone statues. Consumed by Rot.
He fights to his feet, his muscles shifting and popping as he finds his way back onto two legs, and staggers towards the remnants of the Shepherds. His own body keeps shivering, caught between human, and a wilder shape. Caught between flesh and stone. His hands are tipped with claws, as they reach out to Frederick… But the knight doesn't flinch, frozen into a stone state.
This has to be false; he's somehow fallen asleep or unconscious, and drifted into a nightmare… But the scratch of stone under his claws is all too real. Already Frederick is robbed of any warmth, replaced with cold, unyielding rock. His face is fixed in a mixture of shock, and of determination to triumph over an unwinnable battle… And all along the army ranks is echoes of the same, with soldiers turned to statues.
"Oh gods… Oh gods…" Comes a sobbing voice, pricking at Chrom's ears. His eyes find Lissa, her cheeks still flushed with life. Tears shimmer in her eyes as she looks over the ruins…
…And yet, Lissa herself is somehow unharmed.
For a moment he's convinced she's unchanged… But that only lasts until Lissa twists around, and meets his eyes. Her own eyes have gone vivid gold, putting the half-faded yellow of her dress to shame. Emmeryn drifts beside her, looking almost like a spirit as well.
Chrom takes a step towards them, and Emmeryn raises her head in response. There is a new clarity in her eyes. A piercing quality that seems to stare straight through Chrom, and past the wildness that clings to the edges of his skin.
"H…Hello again, Chrom…." Her voice comes out halting, and he wonders how long she's been locked away among nothing more than scrolls and fleeting servants. How long it's been since their father has either ordered, or allowed her to speak with others.
He wants to howl in rage at that, but the very fact that Emmeryn is here, watching him, stops him short.
"It has been… A very long time." Her hands brush over Lissa, and there's a glow to Emmeryn's skin that echoes the wane moons overhead. That same glow seeps across Lissa… And keeps the Rot at bay.
He remembers his father's warning; that it wouldn't take much for Emmeryn to become a woods witch. It's only now that Chrom questions if such a fate is really so horrible.
"Would someone please tell me what's going on!?" Lissa's voice breaks the silence, as she looks between Chrom, Robin, and Emmeryn. "First, we hear howling outside the castle. A-and can almost hear YOU in it…" She points to Chrom.
"The next thing we know, Father is calling for a hunt and saying you've fallen to the forest, and then… And then…" She trails off, looking at the fallen Shepherds.
"Father… Told me that you were fallen. That he needed his first born to step forth, and take on the mantle of huntress again." Emmeryn tells him. "He… Had his priests do something to me, and it felt like a fog was pushed into my head. And now at last, it is clearing."
Her expression falls somber.
"But for all that, it seems to have come too late-"
"N-not quite. At least, I hope not. We've still got…" He brings his hand to the ring strung around his neck, and Emmeryn's eyes widen. When Chrom looks to Robin's neck, and sees the ring blazes against her collar like a star.
"Impossible…" Emmeryn breathes out, staring at the rings. And there's an awe in her eyes Chrom has only seen when they visit the most sacred chapels of Ylisse.
"Well, impossible or not… I was hoping you'd know what we can do with these." Chrom tells Emmeryn.
"Y-you could always start there." Lissa points over their shoulders, and Chrom feels himself tensing. He knows what his back is against; the kingdom he left behind, because he was so desperate for answers. His neck feels like it's been turned to stone as well, with how hard it is to turn and face the castle.
"I'm not sure they'd welcome any of us back." He says, already preparing himself for disappointment. The doors to the kingdom must be barred against him, shutting Robin out, and he already dreads the idea that Emmeryn and Lissa aren't pure enough for Ylisse any longer-
When he sees the remnants of Ylisse, all his uncertainties are snuffed out.
"Oh." He can only manage that, in little more than a rasp.
The Rot isn't satisfied with just the Shepherds as an offering. Dark clouds swallow the highest of the towers, and those same shadowed colors bleed over the bricks; the city has been robbed of all its shining splendor.
Lightless windows stare down at them, as unnerving as gouged out eyes. The former white stone shifts from brilliant to a deathly pallor. And the once proud walls, that kept the forest and wilds out of the kingdom, have aged a thousand years in the span of a few breaths. Thorns and vines swarm over the bricks, and tear gouges into the walls. Even the great doors list on their hinges, broken-
And it all is a strange echo of the ruins he and Robin saw.
"This is what happened to the old kingdom of Plegia." Robin voices an echo to his thoughts. She's taken one step closer to the castle, putting her ahead of the rest… But now she freezes, her ears pinned back, her hair and fur both bristling as she stares at the remains of Ylisse.
Chrom can feel an answering bristle in his own body, as he looks at the ruins of his kingdom and remembers the gouged remnants of Plegia… But this is somehow worse. The Rot is overrunning the buildings, threatening to swallow them up completely… And he has a feeling there won't even be ruins left, if the Rot has its way.
The ring burns against his skin, pushing a restless feeling into his limbs that drives him forward. Emmeryn can't seem to decide whether to look at him, the ring, or the remnants of Ylisse.
Chrom however, can't tear his eyes from Robin. She's only slunk lower to the ground, gathering her strength as she measures up the walls.
"I… I need a closer look." Robin says. The next second, she bolts to the walls, scrambles up the vines, and into the derelict city.
Chrom's only choice is to follow.
It's only as they step into the shadow of the gates, that Chrom realizes he hasn't seen the remnants of his father amongst the statues.