The Shepherds gathered in the village square the next dawn. They set out through the desert, picking off the infrequent bandits as they encountered them on their way to find the Goddess Staff. Morgan fought right at her father's side in every encounter. The moods of the other Shepherds seemed to have mostly recovered, at least as far as Morgan could tell.
Father and daughter made a point of not relishing in the kill. Every elimination was swift and precise. Grima's deranged laughter flew nonetheless, venting his bloodlust where his fists weren't allowed to. Morgan noted he didn't have any complaints about the Shepherds' performance in battle—not even Nah as she kept dropping killing opportunities in favour of getting in standoffs with an injured enemy until one of her allies had time to make the kill.
Despite his doubts, Grima gave way to Miriel and Laurent's freakish directions. They wandered the shimmering sands, taking nonsensical turns and doubling back wherever suggested. By the second time they completely reversed direction and crossed dunes completely different from the ones they walked over a minute ago, Grima understood the nature of the sands and marched without hesitation.
"Morgan," he eventually said. "Have you noticed?"
Walking alongside him, Morgan let go of his hand. She said, "We haven't actually retraced our steps. Even though we have long lines of sight, the mirages make them difficult to trust." She looked around. "It's probably possible to stalk someone long distances here without them ever seeing you."
"Astute," said Grima. His eyes remained on the two mages leading their group ahead. "Do you remember why we came here?"
"To find the Goddess Staff."
"Do you remember why you and I in particular deployed here?"
"To retrieve the Shepherds stranded here after…" Morgan's hand drifted to the handle of her Levin Sword. "An attack vicious enough to separate them. But none of the bandits we've seen so far could pose so much of a threat to them."
"Shepherds, halt!"
They stopped and turned to their tactician.
"Are we anywhere near the target?" asked Grima.
"Quite," said Laurent. He flipped through his notes. "According to the last village's information, it should be within our vicinity."
"Then we've gone far enough. Ready for battle." Grima drew Mjölnir in one hand and thrust his arm the way they came.
Lightning shattered the sky and delivered divine judgement on thin air. Rolling dunes surrounded them in every direction. The air shimmered with heat. A few minutes' walk to their right lay a large oasis—or rather, half of one, with the other half obscured behind a veil of illusionary desert. Save for the oasis' packed dirt and exposed stone, there was almost no footing but sand in every direction. Although the hammer of Mjölnir was easily visible and seared their eyes, the blast mark was nowhere to be seen.
"Pfeh." A bulky man in the attire of a warrior strolled out of nothing even further away than Mjölnir's point of impact, a silver bow on his back and his silver axe tapping on his shoulder. He shouted across the distance, "Clever bastards, aren'tcha?!"
The Shepherds drew their weapons. "We've encountered that man before," said Laurent. "That's the commander of these ruffians. The villagers identified him as Nombry."
Grima scowled as he saw two berserkers join the warrior. Nombry whistled—a high, sharp note. A chorus of yells greeted it from another direction. Opposite the oasis, Grima spotted three more warriors emerge from behind a veil of shimmering air.
"Really appreciate you leadin' us all the way here!" shouted Nombry. "That's the golden oasis, innit?! They say the villages around here are filled to burstin' with rare treasure!"
"Father!" Morgan tugged urgently on Grima's sleeve, looking behind him. "Fliers!"
A low growl escaped him. "How many?"
"Five!"
"Laurent, Nah, Owain. Intercept and eliminate the fliers."
"Robin," warned Cordelia. "Those are falcon knights."
"What?" Grima whirled and saw the truth for himself. The armour, the attire, the quality of their weapons, and the horned helmets of their pegasi confirmed the truth of that claim. "These are supposed to be bandits," he spat. "Why do they have elite pegasus riders?"
"Mercenaries," said Chrom, readying Falchion. "They may also be renegades that abandoned Ylisse's pegasus knight corps in favour of personal glory."
"I don't wanna train up pegasus knights if they're gonna turn into bandits later," whined Morgan.
The fell dragon's growl grew stronger… and then he smiled. "Laurent, Nah, Owain!" barked Grima. "Intercept and eliminate the fliers!"
"Father?" Morgan hopped on the spot to get his attention better. "What about our fliers? The only other enemies are—"
Grima's scarlet eyes landed on her, and she shut up instantly. Morgan understood what he was doing.
He deliberately avoided giving Nah time to collect her feelings. By marching and fighting anyway, Nah resigned herself to being utilized as a unit that he could defensibly put to use. Owain and Nah were competent enough to participate in the battle against the Deadlords while Laurent carried Elwind. In her proper condition, the three of them did have a competitive matchup against the fliers. It was a sound decision.
Grima just happened to conveniently ignore the part where Nah was going to get killed if she didn't kill back. After all, what kind of soldier couldn't kill?
Three future children. This was a chance to eliminate three future children at once and the summit with Validar was just around the corner. The opportunity was simply too delectable. Grima was ready to make his move, Morgan concluded.
"Nombry has a bow," said Grima. "The other group of warriors has one bow and tomahawks. Lissa, Lon'qu, Miriel—engage the group of warriors. Cordelia, support Laurent's group until the bow user is defeated and then aid Lissa's group. Chrom, you'll join Morgan and I to defeat Nombry's group." He narrowed his eyes and assessed the approaching bandit leader. "You two focus on his allies. I'll distract him. Sumia, stand by for an opportunity to join us akin to Cordelia's orders. Once she arrives, the tide of battle is in our favour."
His grin grew wider. The unstated component was that when the future children died, they'd likely take at least a few falcon knights with them. He predicted three falcon knights killed and the remaining two injured. Their own pegasus knights would serve to keep the surviving fliers off their backs as they dealt with the ground units.
"Time to be serious, Morgan." The fell dragon twirled his sword at the exact same time she did. "Remember, no more biology lessons."
Morgan laughed. "No more plucking out eyeballs and neck snapping either, Father!"
"You have your orders. Shepherds, deploy!"
Owain, Laurent, and Nah exchanged a look.
"Their scent didn't change," said Nah.
She transformed and took flight to meet the falcon knights with Owain and Laurent on her back, unaware of the plot she was heading into. Morgan's scent was of conflict and deceit and Grima's scent was pure suffocating killing intent. There was nothing out of the ordinary there.
A mad grin slashed its way across Grima's face as he marched through the sand towards his enemy. Mjölnir opened in his left hand and his sword waited in his right. Chrom and Morgan walked at his sides.
The three of them took cover behind the rocky faces jutting from the dunes. Nombry's arrow whizzed by at high speed. The fell dragon rose and couldn't see the bandits anymore—only outcrops similar to the ones they just used. "Hiding too?" Grima's grin was wide and unnatural as he peeked out. The pages of his legendary tome flipped of their own accord. "Fools. Mjölnir."
The hammer of the gods shattered the heavens and slammed down on the cover closest to where he last saw them. A berserker crumpled into view. Grima scowled as he recited the incantation. He wanted to smite Nombry. The bandits' leader wasted no time popping up and shooting back.
The arrow drew a thin gash across the side of Grima's head as he leapt out, stomping over the sand to close the distance. "Chrom, advance!"
Morgan didn't need orders. Her thunderbolt got Nombry to duck back down and then Elfire convinced him to stay down a bit longer. Nombry had the awareness to flee from cover before divine punishment struck again, but the stray tendrils discharged by the main bolt found him nonetheless.
The scorched berserker rose and met Chrom as the uninjured one intercepted Morgan. The prince and his enemy were equally hindered by the sand, but Chrom had the upper hand of not starting badly injured. Morgan danced and slid about over the desert surface, keeping away from her enemy's heavy swings.
"Focus on defense!" barked Grima as he neared Nombry. The bandits' numbers matched the Shepherds one for one. As soon as one side got an upper hand, they could snowball from there. "I'll tip the scales."
Neither he nor Nombry could target their other enemies without risking friendly fire, but Grima wasn't going to wait around for that opportunity. The fell dragon dived to the ground as an arrow sliced his shoulder. He rolled back onto his feet, Mjölnir vanished into his coat, and then he was in range of the bandit leader. Grima moved easily over the sand, nudged Nombry's falling blow away as he dodged, cut open the warrior's arm—
Grima grunted as Nombry retaliated far faster than he should've been able to. His axe tasted Grima's arm, the steel sword deflected the followup, and the two backed into a brief standstill several paces apart.
"The reverse of Galeforce," muttered Grima. "The art of retaliation using one's own shed blood as a catalyst—Counter." His growl was low and frustrated. As he thought, he wasn't fast enough to counter Counter head-on.
"Got it in one try? Hah! Most don't figure it out till their head comes off." Nombry grinned as he hefted his axe. "Heard you and your little girl worked my boys over somethin' fierce. Now where's that magic mirage village at? Talk, and I'll make you vanish quicker!"
Grima feinted a swing for the axe hand. Nombry fell for it, but Grima only repositioned to flank him, and the warrior turned as the fell dragon did. It wouldn't be that easy to get a clear shot at the bow on his back. Grima kept his eyes locked on the eyes of his enemy, concealing his true intentions. Nombry assumed he was looking a surefire way to take his life or hand—either would prevent a proper Counter.
But as it was, Nombry was free to take swings at Grima, and all Grima could do was dodge without hitting back.
On the other side of the battlefield, Owain wished he was fighting beside his parents.
At the very least, he wished he wasn't fighting in the sand against falcon knights in the air!
A silver lance sliced down for him and drew shallow blood from his side as he leapt away. His sword forced a strike at his heart to only taste his arm. He ducked under a passing dive and got a shallow cut to the pegasus' flank, but no more.
The blades of Elwind forced away the falcon knight that was eyeing Owain's back, and then an arc of flame warded off the flier eyeing Laurent not too far away. Cordelia and Sumia flew overhead, zipping back and forth through the air. Two falcon knights darted about with them, each not letting the other sneak behind them while watching for any opponent bold enough to think a flier wasn't about to cut open their back.
"My sword hand hungers!" said Owain. "Mayhaps this battle shall be enough to sate it—come, wicked warriors!"
Morgan was onto something—the falcon knights really tried for the back. Owain didn't know if it had to do with the primal urge to kill as the fell dragon's daughter suggested, or if it just plain made sense to attack where the enemy couldn't look. Shadows jumped about on the sand all around Owain as he focused on not getting killed by the falcon knights.
Laurent had it a little better, but not much. The sand posed no detriment, and the enemy rightly feared Elwind, but his own inability to pull off acrobatics like Owain's flips and leaps meant he was easy pickings for the agile falcon knights. He exhaled sharply as he casted and saw the razor winds slice across the side of a falcon knight. Feathers fluttered down, but the pegasus continued flying.
Flying above her allies, Nah was their saving grace. Divine dragonfire sliced the air in huge streams, warding off the enemy, but no sooner than she turned away did they dive back in. The future children spent as much time protecting each other's backs as they did fending off attacks on themselves. The scratches and gashes they picked up were paid back with burns and cuts on the falcon knights. It was a losing situation, but one they could draw out.
And then Lon'qu became five in an emerald storm of motion, a bow-wielding warrior crumpled in a pile of body parts, and Cordelia left. The number of Shepherds became four. The number of falcon knights remained at five.
"Ah!" yelled Owain. "You mean to lay me low with greater numbers! But—such dire straits—only make me stronger!"
Right away, the freedom of just one enemy increased the pressure massively. Sand flew into the air as he dodged away from the lances that seemed to never stop stabbing at him from where he wasn't looking. His new cuts burned fiercely as particles of sand snuck into them.
Backing away rapidly, Laurent crossed paths with Owain as the latter tried to retreat across the sand. "Owain, steel yourself."
Owain nodded. "Dual… STRIKE!"
Both turned and struck back at the enemy aiming for the other. Elwind raked its claws across the face of a rider. Owain's steel sword gashed the side of a pegasus. Laurent took a deep glancing stab along his side and was thrown to the ground while fearsome wingbeats struck Owain to the sand to join him.
Laurent jerked his head aside. The stabbing lance that tried to take it ripped off his hat, and a mighty hoof slammed all the air out of his chest.
A falcon knight scraped their lance through the sand, coming in low from a distance and rushing at Owain from the side. He yelled and twisted around on the ground, rotating to evade the slash seeking to behead him.
"Get serious!" Nah dropped down to protect her allies, claws flying and turquoise flame sweeping the air to deter the enemy from taking their kill. Silver lances stabbed at her back whichever way she turned, their tips piercing the dragon's scales to draw blood again and again. Sumia rushed by and wounded a distracted falcon knight's shoulder to get her attention, alleviating the pressure of just one enemy.
The red dragon reared up so Owain and Laurent could stand. Elwind dissuaded one falcon knight from diving in from above. Another flier tried to swoop down in a head-on approach. The red dragon unhinged her jaw and lunged to meet her—
Nah locked up.
What should've been a bite that snatched the rider off her mount and crushed her to death became a blunt headbutt. Nah received a deep gash to her snout. Five enemy fliers continued to fill the air. The pegasus flapped its wings to stay in place. Blood from one of Laurent's spells poured down the rider's face, one eye shut as she looked directly at Nah.
That flier remained right in Nah's face, steed flapping its wings as she slashed and stabbed at the manakete's head and neck. A furious shriek, cyan dragonfire roared forth in a powerful jet, and the falcon knight easily dodged without letting up.
Silver lances sliced across Nah's back. Laurent's Elwind repelled the two fliers there for an instant. One shot down to get rid of him as the other resumed their onslaught on Nah. The red dragon flipped in the air, using her tail to threaten the falcon knight on her back, but she came right back in moments.
"Nah!" yelled Owain. Sand flew around him, kicked up in the wake of the falcon knight currently going wild on his guard. "What of your draconic might? Use your talons!"
Her blood stained the sand. Nah looked for a place, any place she could get a moment's reprieve from the two falcon knights ripping at her. She couldn't.
"Oof!" Morgan threw herself to the sand away from the berserker's wild swing. Flecks and small drops of blood fell from her cuts through her torn coat. She flipped over and scrabbled back with Levin Sword in one hand and terror on her face.
The berserker tasted victory and grinned. He raised his silver axe—
A handful of sand flew into his eyes. All pretense of fear gone and unhindered by the sand, Morgan rolled backwards into a crouch with a laugh as his blind swing found only the desert sand. "Gotcha!"
He backed up, rubbing his eyes. She stabbed for the heart. Morgan faux-gasped as the berserker twisted away and her sword only drew a thin gash across his front. The heavy axe spun around with him, powering through the sand to open his eyes and smash her skull.
A second handful of sand threw off his aim. Predictable… but she wasn't quite fast enough. Morgan's breastplate clanged as the axe grazed it and sent her staggering off to the side.
Morgan spotted Cordelia joining Lon'qu's fight and the future children struggling. That part of her father's plan was working. In the two seconds she spent regaining her footing and turning back to her enemy, the berserker had cleaned out his watering eyes enough to glare daggers at her.
"Father!" she called to the side. "Cordelia moved!" Morgan gripped the Levin Sword in both hands and returned to the fray.
Grima's eye twitched as he stared down Nombry. "Miriel, Lon'qu, join us when done!" shouted Grima. "Lissa, Cordelia, join the others when done!"
Nombry swung and gashed Grima's chest. The steel sword prevented the warrior from pressing the advantage. Grima backed away through the desert with Nombry right on top of him.
"The hell am I doin'?" said Nombry abruptly. He stopped in his tracks and switched from axe to bow. Sure enough, the tactician didn't attack. "That's what I thought! Don't matter if I got my bow out, I'll smash yer skull in for comin' at me!"
"Pffff—" Grima burst into laughter. "Hahahaha!"
Nombry nocked an arrow and turned to line up his shot on Chrom and Morgan.
He couldn't see them. Nothing but empty desert met his eye, even as he heard the others yelling and their weapons clashing. Grima lured him behind an illusory veil.
Nombry barely turned his sights back on Grima and got his arrow to fly at the same time Mjölnir slammed down.
Chrom willed himself not to turn as a deafening, blinding bang lit up the desert and cast his shadow before him. The berserker in front of him flinched, and that was plenty enough for the prince to tear a vicious wound down his left arm with Falchion.
"Whoo!" cheered Morgan. She backed off from the berserker chasing her, dropping thunderbolts with her Levin Sword as he tried to chase her uphill. When he got impatient and turned to Chrom's fight a distance away, Elfire cut him off and Morgan charged back in.
The silver axe clanged loudly against the Fire Emblem, sending Chrom stumbling back. "What's going on?"
Morgan glanced at the future children, spotted Nah getting poked full of holes, and beamed. "Just a working plan!" Her smile vanished as the silver axe hacked deep into her thigh, clanged to a stop against her armored boots, and she crumpled to the sand with a real cry of pain. A few degrees off, an few inches higher to start, and the axe would've removed her leg entirely.
Mjölnir had fallen from his grip as it struck. Without even seeing her, Grima recognized that scream. Pain ripped into his core, and the anger that spilled forth consumed him in an instant. Nombry's arrow in his shoulder was nothing compared to it. Ignoring Nombry drunkenly getting up, the fell dragon seized his tome and rushed to rejoin his daughter at top speed. "MORGAN!"
Chrom began turning to Morgan, but his enemy still wasn't done. The Fire Emblem blocked his axe again and Falchion sliced across his chest. A thin layer of sweat covered Chrom's face as he focused on his enemy. He had to get rid of him before he helped Morgan, and Robin's daughter was a good ten seconds of wading through sand away on top of that.
Morgan sent her enemy to the ground with a well-placed Elwind slicing up his knee. Blood marked her path as she got up on one leg and tried to hop and then crawl her way uphill on her side—it'd take him a bit longer to get to her. The Levin Sword returned to its scabbard. She swapped to Elfire and recited the incantations as fast as she could. The berserker moved much faster than her, but striking him with flames kept him from catching up right away.
Morgan got about six more seconds. He limped closer and closer, bloodied axe ready to take that leg for good this time. Morgan clenched her teeth as agony seared through her wound. Ignis combined with Elwind could secure the kill. As soon as she had to, Morgan could even open her locket, withstand the blow, and kill him for sure. She worked her hand under herself and where was her locket?
She was distracted by the grip of fear on her heart for one second too long. But just as the berserker stepped in range, a steel sword flew in and sliced the wrist carrying his axe. The petals of an Ignis that wasn't her own scattered. Both weapons fell to the sand, the berserker turned, and Grima bowled him to the ground with a deep raging bellow.
Nombry's arrow pierced through the rest of the way through Grima's shoulder. He barely noticed as he snatched his sword from the ground with one hand and drove it down through the berserker's uninjured arm. The fell dragon immediately ripped his blade free, stabbed down through the other arm to make sure he couldn't use it, and then twisted around to impale his knees until they were useless messes of red.
Grima had no words—only deranged fury converted into pure noise. He didn't go for the neck. He didn't make it clean. The fell dragon hacked and tore at the downed man's chest over and over, peeling away flesh and skin to expose pale bone. Focusing on mangling skin and flesh as opposed to innards maximized intensity of the pain and how long he would take to expire. He made him pay. He made him suffer.
Grima's sword tore out his eyes and ripped into his face until it was unrecognizable. Every strike was punctuated with a bestial scream. Thrown every which way off his flying blade, fresh splatters of red painted the sand around them and decorated Morgan's greaves as she lay just a few paces away.
"Father!" shouted Morgan. "The battle isn't over!"
Finally, that sword tore open the berserker's throat and let it end. The corpse under the fell dragon better resembled a carcass left at the mercy of a pack of starving hyenas. Slavering over the body, his voice a feral snarl through bared teeth, Grima's crazed scarlet eyes jumped to Lissa's group, and Morgan knew exactly which name was about to leave his lips.
"Don't," she said.
The roar that would've summoned Lissa to aid Morgan only emerged as a strangled choking noise. Grima plunged his sword down on the corpse one more time and swallowed hard.
He struggled to calm his breathing. He reminded himself they were still fighting. It didn't do him any good. Everything that he was screamed to keep going—but she didn't. That was his lifeline.
Grima panted. Sweat dripped from his white hair. The hot wind was arid and dry. The distant noise of Chrom fighting for his life reached his ears. The fell dragon forced his wide eyes to close and commanded unwilling arms to draw his blade from the worm that dared make her scream.
"Seek cover," said Grima. The mask of calmness returned to his face. The tremor in his voice was the only trace of his rage as he stood. "Use the illusions to your advantage. Signal with Elwind if you need me." He sucked in the hot desert air and shuddered. "Your vulnerary? Your Elthunder?"
"I have them," said Morgan.
"Give me the tome." Grima knelt down in front of her. She felt something in her core shift as he took it from her hands.
In place of the tome, Morgan's locket glistened under the sun in her grasp.
"You dropped this." Grima turned back to the battle. Nombry looked out from behind a curtain of shimmering air, spotted him, and dived back before Mjölnir crashed down. "Go, Morgan."
He didn't have to worry about her bleeding out for the time being, but he had to wrap this up quickly for her. Mjölnir was a devastating weapon in Grima's hands, but it wasn't quite the city-leveling pocket cannon it was when Anguilla wielded it. The spell had an area of effect that posed a problem when aiding teammates.
Chrom cried out as Nombry's arrow found his leg. Falchion saved the prince from the berserker's one-handed axe blow, and the two struck at each other again. Grima's Elthunder lended its support to snipe the berserker as Grima ran to his side. The fell dragon grabbed the prince's arm for him and twisted him around so the Fire Emblem could block Nombry's next arrow. Elthunder vanished into Grima's coat and Mjölnir leapt into his hand. Nombry gave up his attack to preemptively dodge the divine hammer, and the two of them advanced on the warrior behind the veil.
Chrom snapped off the shafts of the arrows stuck in him. "We're talking after this," he promised through gritted teeth.
Laurent's Elwind finally got a clean hit on a falcon knight.
"Radiant DAAAAAAAWN!"
Owain's blade found the pegasus' neck and then the rider. She paid Owain back with a dying exchange that tore open his left arm. Another falcon knight rushed by and her silver lance plunged deep into Owain's gut. He could only barely manage to jump back, feet leaving the ground to lessen blow from total impalement to merely stabbing and launching him across the sand.
Reciting the incantation at maximum speed, Laurent sent another barrage of Elwind that convinced the falcon knight to dodge up and away without cutting down Owain. She joined her ally pursuing Sumia. The pegasus knight could stall for a while against one, but not two.
Owain forced himself to get up, blood rapidly pouring from his front as he readied his steel sword again. "Four of them, four of us," he said ruefully. "Yet by the heat of the desert and the rage of battle, I… what came next… my blood yields not to—"
"Damage on our side increasing too rapidly," said Laurent. His Elwind missed both falcon knights as they took turns ripping at the erratically dodging Sumia. "Odds of survival diminishing."
Nah's vibrant flame spilled forth in a shapeless blaze that filled the air before her. The falcon knight at her front darted away. Nah turned to repel the one at her back, knowing the first flier would be back in moments.
That flier went for Laurent and Owain instead. They scattered as she slammed down on the sand. The tip of her silver lance left Laurent's blood where it struck the ground, drawn from his side with a deep gouge. The falcon knight was back in the air in moments, slicing across Owain's front on her way up.
"Support's on the way!" shouted Sumia to her allies. "Stay strong—Aah!"
A falcon knight darted by in a blur and tore at the wing of Sumia's steed. Red-tipped feathers scattered in the wake of her dive. Both pegasi faltered and broke away as Sumia hit back, but one struggled to stay aloft. Red weeping cuts stained the flanks of Sumia's white steed. Much more would see her run down and slain. She didn't have much choice but to part from her allies, lance flying to repel the one falcon knight that remained on her.
Lissa's group was mopping up their own enemies. They'd be free in less than a minute, but that was a minute too long.
Laurent felt ready to collapse as his back met Owain's and both watched the other. Laurent panted, "Here they come."
The fliers weren't just fast. They were agile enough to zip back and forth in close range, and unpredictable on top of that. Incantations flew from Laurent's lips, syllables crammed together to the point of being unintelligible to his allies—but they were enough to keep the spells flying. One blast of razor wind after another pierced the air, diverting the falcon knights and forcing them to come at him the way he wanted.
A lance ripped at his leg. Another gouged his side. Owain intercepted the falcon knight coming for Laurent's back and repelled her with a flurry of slashes. Only two light cuts found their mark, and then his forearm was torn open with her retaliation.
Cyan dragonfire bloomed in a huge burst in front of Nah to ward off her enemy. Her claws struck sluggishly and only found thin air with every swipe. The three of them were fully preoccupied with just one opponent each—not able to kill them head-on, only attempting to survive until their allies turned the flow of battle.
Except for one.
Blood splattered on the sand as Owain moved and darted about. The hot air rushed over him with every swift step. The deep hole in his stomach spurted a fresh burst of red with every sudden movement, but he couldn't give in. Before all strength left him, Owain struck harder after every parry and moved faster with every injury. His exhausted breathing gave way to a rapidly escalating yell—
The falcon knight's silver lance found his stomach in the same place it had before and pierced clean through. Her pegasus flapped its wings and she tore it out for a proper death blow to the heart.
"ASTRAAAA!"
An emerald streak marked the path Owain flew from the sand to his enemy. Five bright green arcs marked his blade's paths. One slash to the neck—another—another—another—another.
Owain hit the ground behind her and tumbled across the sand, thrown past by the speed of his lunge. The falcon knight's head landed on the sand. Her pegasus reared and fled with the rider's body still in the saddle.
"See that, Father?" he muttered. Dry sand filled his mouth. He couldn't move anything else after that final blow. "Argh… my sword hand's fallen still at long last." Owain let out a breath. The sound of flying spells and roaring flame sounded more and more distant. "Man. Invoking a real skill's name feels great… how do they not do it all the time…?"
A large shadow fell over him. Nah scooped her friend up in her arms and turned her head with a stream of fire to keep her falcon knight from diving in. "Laurent!" she called. "Hop on!"
The moment he did, Nah pumped her wings and took off across the desert. Pain seared through her. The blood of dragons seeped into Laurent's front as he clung to her injured back while mixing with the red already staining Owain. She skimmed low over the sand with the myrmidon held close—too little space for their enemies to sneak under and finish him off. The two remaining falcon knights had no intention of letting them go free, and it fell to Laurent to hold them off with his spells.
Sumia had taken off to the even farther fell dragon's group. Nah spotted Lissa riding with Cordelia, the latter two watching from above as Lon'qu and Miriel fought their final enemy warrior.
"Over here!" said Nah across the long distance.
Lissa put her axe away and waved her Mend staff, undoubtedly calling to Owain. Cordelia turned her head. A flick of the reins and her pegasus made to meet them halfway—
Laurent ducked as both falcon knights rushed straight past Nah. One dived down and forced the red dragon to stop in her tracks with her silver lance. The other flier launched at Cordelia, and both pegasi took off into the air to outmaneuver the other.
"Hand axes!" said Cordelia as she pulled into a steep ascent.
Before Lissa could go for them, Cordelia suddenly reversed into a sharp dive and both fliers narrowly avoided each other on the joust. Right away, the falcon knight was diving after them. Lissa yelped and nearly dropped her staff when Cordelia levelled out barely a few feet above the ground, their enemy mimicking the maneuver perfectly.
"Stop that!" said Lissa. "I'm trying to get them!"
Nah backed away out of her enemy's reach. Her jets of flame and Laurent's wind kept their falcon knight from rushing her down at full tilt, but there was no proper way to get past the agile falcon knight to regroup with her allies. The flier showed no fear—swooping under a burst of Elwind, twisting around a column of flame, all to get back in range and push Nah further and further away from the rest of the Shepherds.
After all, what was Nah going to do about the falcon knight getting in her face? Maul her?
"Go to the oasis." Laurent spoke as quickly as he could. "Deposit Owain underwater to free your limbs."
The second he spent talking was a second he spent not casting Elwind. The falcon knight lunged, and Nah had to shove away the stab meant for Owain by headbutting her. Blood flew from the gash on her long neck, but Laurent's next spell found its mark and sent the falcon knight down. They only had seconds before she gathered her bearings and struck back.
Lon'qu's Killing Edge took the hand and then the heart of the warrior he fought. He looked up at the sight of Nah fleeing with the injured boy he knew to be his son in her arms. Lissa's used hand axes dotted the desert around him and Miriel, bloodless. Though he only knew Owain for a day, Lon'qu knew that a gut instinct was one of the most potent senses in battle—and all of his instincts told him to aid his son.
"Robin commanded us to join his battle," said Miriel. He could hear the strain in her voice. She felt the same as him. "Delaying over internal conflict is inadvisable."
"…Right."
They made the decision to trust their tactician, and ran across the desert to join Robin.
The moment Nah made it within reach of the oasis, the falcon knight's steed kicked Laurent off her back.
He struck the hard packed ground around the oasis hard with nothing to cushion the impact. Nah had little doubt something had broken with the force of his landing. She didn't want to dump Owain underwater—that implied killing their opponent in seconds so she could fish him back out before he drowned. At least the falcon knight made the decision for her, seeing as Nah wasn't in range to toss him in.
Nah flipped in the air to dive down after Laurent and retrieve him too. The wings of the pegasus grazed her own, extended high above her as she turned. No silver lance struck her with it. The falcon knight completely ignored Nah in favour of eliminating Laurent first.
In favour of killing Laurent first.
The red dragon's jaws slammed shut around the falcon knight's midsection. The rider's own speed tore her from the saddle. Her pegasus peeled away from striking the ground on its own, hooves skimming inches over the downed Laurent.
The light armour of falcon knights didn't mean a thing to the might of a dragon. Her prey screamed as she bit down harder. Nah tasted living human flesh for the first time. Warm, bitter, metallic red dribbled from her maw. Fangs tore free of flesh so the dragon could adjust her grip and sink them deeper on the next bite.
Nah didn't have any platitudes of saving the world in mind. The fancy equations and tricks of logic to calculate the superior value of her life to justify defending it didn't help. They didn't matter when in the end of the day, making good on those still meant personally ending a life for some lofty invisible goal.
Going after her friends was a completely different story.
Blood of man and dragon alike stained the ground as she slammed down right beside Laurent. The silver lance gouged her face over and over—a testament to human tenacity as much as the desperate desire to live. A deafening shriek at point-blank range, and then Nah's fierce will to protect what she knew exploded forth in a howling stream of neon flame that completely consumed her enemy. The falcon knight's struggles grew even more violent, ripping at Nah's face and neck… until they slowed, and then stopped.
Nah threw the burning body aside and reverted in a burst of light. Owain had fallen unconscious. Total exhaustion saw her crumple too with her blood quickly darkening her dress.
Laurent groaned and slowly got to his feet. Owain was bleeding out quickly. Nah's face and hair were coated and matted with blood. It wouldn't take long for them to expire, assuming he didn't join them.
His arm was certainly broken. Hairline fractures were likely in his legs. Laurent hobbled along on a twisted ankle, his Elwind tome abandoned where he fell. Lissa and Cordelia had it made halfway to their position. Their falcon knight had yet to fall. It'd be several minutes more until their healer could reach them at best—time his allies may not have.
Grima planned this.
He had to have planned this. The Shepherds brought precious few healing potions with them. His strategy saw every encounter take place with equal numbers on both sides, only to remove them from the future children partway through the battle. Grima knew Nah wouldn't able to fight her hardest.
But Grima wasn't the one that guided them all the way here.
"The last tree north of the oasis shore," muttered Laurent, limping past that very same tree. He walked twenty paces north and then returned. He moved ten paces west, returned, and repeated. A branding iron seared the bones in his legs with every step.
There wasn't a dune in sight. He simply had to gamble and hope. Laurent painstakingly forced himself to circle the tree clockwise. As soon as he retraced it, something changed. His allies no longer lay prone and beaten on the shore. Cordelia and her opponent disappeared. He was alone in the blinding desert. Everything shimmered around him and all noise disappeared… or maybe that was his own mind beginning to fail.
He took three steps north, feet dragging through the sand.
"Well, well."
Laurent couldn't lift his head to meet the owner of that wizened voice. He focused everything on staying standing.
"You've endured much to find this place. This village does not often play host to outsiders… Few hold faith in that which cannot be seen to exist, yet I sense such faith in you."
"Sir," wheezed Laurent. His legs tried to buckle under his weight.
"Here, then. Claim what you have come for. I hold my own faith that you will use it with wisdom."
Hot sand seared his wounds. Dimly, Laurent realized he was on his back. The sound of battle was distant and muted. The world wavered, but that was certainly his own mind at this point. He dragged himself upright, using his staff for support—
Laurent looked again. Owain and Nah lay at his feet. The Elwind tome waited at the water's edge. His hand gripped a tall golden staff, its tip carved into a humanoid visage with wings spread on either side.
He steeled himself and forced his broken arm to close its fingers around the tome and open it. The hidden Thoron still under his robes wasn't suited for this. Laurent set his gaze on Cordelia and Lissa as they danced in the air.
With the last of his strength, he threw the Goddess Staff straight up and sent it careening towards Lissa on blades of Elwind.
Elthunder struck Nombry. Right away, his axe slammed against Chrom's breastplate and sent him staggering with a yell. The prince recovered before the warrior could close the distance. Falchion met axe, pushed it aside, and tore at Nombry's front.
The moment Falchion ripped deep into Nombry's chest, his silver axe instantly hit back at the gap in Chrom's armour. It bit down to the bone and nearly removed his sword arm at the shoulder.
"What in blazes—" Chrom raised the Fire Emblem just in time to block the strike that came next. The arrowhead still wedged in his leg hindered his movement in the sand. He couldn't strike back with blood gushing from his shoulder and couldn't escape. He braced himself to block again.
Grima imposed himself between them as the silver axe struck to remove Chrom's arm entirely. The light of Pavise shimmered as his hands came up and slammed against the axe's edge, stopping it just short of his own face. Cold scarlet eyes clashed with Nombry's as they wrestled for control over the axe.
Grima headbutted him. It didn't do a thing to the bandit leader. He dodged Nombry's attempt to do the same right back and, with no other choice, shoved him away while he and Chrom backed up. He couldn't grip the axe for any longer and didn't have the physical strength to overpower a warrior. The fell dragon couldn't overpower him! The thought made him sick to his stomach.
Falchion switched hands. Carrying sword and shield on the same arm, Chrom's expression screamed all the pain he couldn't at that moment.
"Hehehe…" Nombry didn't seem to notice the multitude of cuts or the red slathered on him—most of it his own. "Gotcha by surprise, did I?"
"What now, Robin?" said Chrom.
A deep growl rumbled in the fell dragon's throat. These scum weren't Deadlords by any stretch, but that damned Counter made him want to rip his hair out. Even if he bombarded him with lightning at a distance, Chrom would be in range of the retaliation. Grima wanted to take his bow and feed this kill to Morgan, but Nombry was forcing his hand.
"Retreat," said Grima. He readied Mjölnir in one hand and his steel sword in the other.
On their stretch of desert with minimal cover, the threat of the divine hammer spurred Nombry into a wild rushdown. Grima and Chrom backed off as he approached, repelling strikes with shield and sword. Walls of hazy air wavered around them. Where he previously lured Nombry behind the veil to prevent him from firing on his teammates, Grima now lured him out so he himself had an opportunity to survey the battlefield.
Lon'qu and Miriel were approaching them, less than a minute away from coming within casting range. Lissa and Cordelia darted about with a falcon knight high in the sky. Sumia and her own enemy flier danced close by. The future children lay by the oasis. Morgan was out of sight.
Grima bit back the urge to abandon the prince and run to see his daughter again. She was safe from Nombry behind cover, but that if falcon knight spotted her from her high vantage point…
"Miriel, Sumia!" barked Grima, still clashing with Nombry. "Form up!"
Miriel's bursts of Elfire flew through the air at his command. Sumia dived to join her allies, where she would have Lon'qu and Miriel's help to deal with the falcon knight. Her opponent gave chase without a moment's hesitation, zigzagging between fireballs on the way down.
He knew Lon'qu had a powerful matchup against the axe-wielding warriors, so he knew Cordelia would join them quickly. He wanted to get rid of Nombry's bow so that Sumia could join them as soon as possible, amplifying the pressure on Laurent's group. Irritated, Grima had to accept the situation and get on with it.
"Chrom, strike the first moment you can!" Grima dropped his steel sword and flew at Nombry. He was inside his axe's range in an instant. His arm cracked as the handle of the axe slammed against it. Without drawing blood, Grima seized Nombry's axe arm and didn't let go when a devastating knee slammed into his side.
Grima and Nombry staggered back and forth across the sand with zero distance between them, twisting and turning as they tried to get the upper hand on each other. There was no room to swing the axe, but Nombry was certain to avoid letting his enemy slip behind his back where any number of binds would set him up for an easy kill.
Chrom readied Falchion with one hand and searched for his opportunity. He had to kill Nombry in a single stroke. Failing to end his life instantly would certainly get them both killed.
Grima ignored Nombry's violent headbutt striking him as they spun around on the sand. He didn't bother hitting back, entirely focused on keeping Nombry from getting away. One arm locked around each of the warrior's arms, Nombry's back became exposed to Chrom, and the prince followed his tactician's orders without question. A fierce yell left Chrom's lips and he lunged with Falchion slicing at both their necks in a fatal arc.
Falchion's edge sliced through Nombry's neck, severed his spine, and slammed to a halt against the light of Pavise just over Grima's skin.
A distant corner of the fell dragon's mind noted the Kingsfang didn't react.
Falchion brushed off Grima as Chrom fell past with his wild one-handed swing. Grima shoved the body off himself, its head hanging by a small flap of skin and muscle. It was a perfect kill. He wasn't satisfied at all thanks to the new development in the corner of his eye.
Lissa caught the Goddess Staff sent to her on Laurent's Elwind. She closed her eyes and began chanting, undaunted by Cordelia's erratic movements. Shining magic runes and spell circles formed around her. A blinding golden light radiated from the staff.
Softer light illuminated them all. Chrom picked himself up off the sand. He looked down and watched as his wounds repaired themselves. The severed muscles and tendons of his shoulder reconnected and skin sealed it as if it never happened. Reinvigorated, Sumia's group eliminated their falcon knight and turned their efforts to dispatching the last flier harassing Cordelia as she joined them.
Morgan's snowy hair popped out from behind a rock. With the enemies mostly gone, she leapt over it and ran over on uninjured legs. "Father!"
Grima saw the healing light descend on the three future children and swallowed the urge to deck Chrom. His enemies were alive.
"Lissa." Grima's voice was calm and measured as his group met up with theirs.
"This thing is amazing!" Lissa spun the Goddess Staff, grinning ear to ear. "There's no way we can lose so long as we got it!"
"Did I order you to use it?"
She stopped.
"Try using it again."
Lissa recited the first lines of the incantation, but the staff didn't come to life. "Huh?"
"One use," said Grima. Where the screaming fury that protected Morgan was a flame that incinerated everything in his path, the anger he felt now was colder than ice. "Your precious staff had one use. Our expedition has now amounted to nothing."
"Well, what about them?!" Lissa pointed at the distant future children, indignant. "They were gonna DIE if I didn't use it!"
"You don't know that. They—" Grima noticed Chrom was staring at him. He willed himself not to make any remark or show any irritation. He was Robin, the tactician that abhorred losing a single unit. Keeping that in mind, he asked, "How did you acquire it?"
"Laurent's spell. He sent it with Elwind—like, whoosh!" Lissa grinned and nudged the tactician. "Good thing I got so much practice healing you, huh?"
He forced down the urge to smack her. "He found the mirage village?" muttered Grima.
"Remarkable," said Miriel, allowing herself a small smile. "Although he has certain natural deficiencies, he compensates for them well. I surmise this is the product of considerable time and effort."
"Well fought, all of you," said Chrom. "Sumia, Cordelia, check in on their condition. Robin, come with me for a moment." When he spotted Morgan tagging along, the prince added, "Just the two of us. We won't be long."
"Aw…" Reluctantly, Morgan let go of Grima. She spotted Cordelia's uneasy over-the-shoulder glance at her father as the pegasus knight set off. "See you in a bit, Father." Well, he'd be right back in minutes! Morgan hopped at Lon'qu, waving and beaming as he rapidly backed off. "Yoohoo! Good work out there, time for a pat on the head!"
The sweltering sun beat down on Chrom and Grima as they left the others. It had since passed its zenith in the sky, now falling halfway to the horizon with its light shining on them from an angle. Their shadows moved over the hot sands at their side. Grima glanced at Chrom. The prince's expression was serious and resolute—something was afoot.
When they were out of earshot, Chrom stopped, faced his tactician, and said, "I'm forbidding you from deploying alongside Morgan."
Grima's boot kicked up a small cloud of dust as he came to a stop. His scarlet eyes remained on the barren desert ahead of him. "What did you just say?"
"I need you to look me in the eye," said Chrom. Blue and scarlet collided. "You swore it wouldn't happen again, yet it did. She's the cause of it."
The face of the fell dragon darkened. His gaze sharpened into a glare.
Chrom pressed on, "Morgan will be in danger whenever she sets foot on the battlefield. I don't want you to be at risk of losing control the moment she's injured." He grimaced and forced himself to say the words, "You're threatening to become a liability to the Shepherds."
Grima's fingers twitched. "She was in danger," he said in a low voice. "You take offense to protecting her?"
"To slowly mauling your victim," said Chrom. "You're aware I could hear you, correct? I don't know how long you would've continued if she didn't tell you to stop." Robin didn't get to respond before the prince continued, "Nombry shot me. If you kept your wits about you, I'm certain we could've dispatched that berserker and fought back far better. I know we won anyway!" He held up his hand so Robin didn't cut him off. "But this is a symptom. Before it worsens—before it truly costs us—something needs to change. If you were the only one defending a fort with five of our injured in it and Morgan cried out across the battlefield, would you drop everything to join her? If I was dying in the sand, would that have compelled you to rejoin the fight? Or would you have left me to die so you could slake your thirst for blood?"
Grima's face contorted with rage.
"…That was unfair," admitted Chrom. "But you must see my point."
"She won't leave my sight," snarled Grima. "I won't accept her being deployed without me. We go together or not at all."
"I thought you'd say something like that," sighed Chrom. "Jurisdiction over deploying her remains up to you. However, jurisdiction over deploying you remains up to me." He cast his gaze over the hot sands and spotted Morgan and Lissa running around in the distance. "You two are inseparable. You bring out the best of each other as much as you set free the worst of each other."
He looked at Grima, and something changed in those blue eyes. The fell dragon felt his heart quicken in anticipation of battle as his rage blazed to life. His hands curled into fists, and he growled, "Don't you dare look at me like that."
Chrom's gaze hardened, and that despicable emotion vanished. "At ease, Robin. There are many battles on the horizon. I'll gladly welcome your advice at every turn, but if you wish to set foot on the battlefield with her at your side, you need to regain control before war arrives on our doorstep."
Grima slowly flexed his fingers at his side and choked down the desire to drive his fist into the prince's face. Without laying a finger on him, without that dull Kingsfang that couldn't purge his essence, Chrom ripped him to pieces. Grima was the fell dragon! He took no pathetic human's pity. No human had the right to leash him. Grima silently swore to pull every limb from the prince's torso before putting an end to him. The sight flooded his mind—an impossibility at this second, the knowledge of which he used to anchor himself.
Chrom watched his tactician struggle to rein himself in. Robin's anger washed over him like a palpable aura. "I know how you must feel," the prince said quietly. "That's why I'm not ordering you to do this."
"What are you going on about now?"
A dry smile as Chrom patted the pommel of Falchion. "No tomes and no hand strikes. Off the sand. The duel ends on forfeit or when one can't continue." His smile faded. "Devil tactician," he muttered as if trying out the words. "The title turned out more appropriate than I expected. You're the demon of the battlefield, Robin. Through your blade, wielded with honour and grace, prove to me you're human as well."
Grima growled softly. The summit was soon, but he had to think about how much this restricted him. He couldn't afford to let Morgan out of his sight. There were too many chances for the future children to kill her while he wasn't looking. There were too many chances for the future children to kill him while she wasn't looking. Their fragile stalemate could break whenever they desired, and he didn't know where the hell Lucina was!
Nor could the two of them rot in Ylisstol while the future children had free run of the continent. Deploying to a mission in Plegia was Grima's best shot at escaping to the Dragon's Table. Losing that option would be a massive blow to his opportunities.
The hot wind blew over them. Grima's coat and Chrom's cape billowed with it. Their shadows stood before them, as still and unmoving as their masters. Their gazes locked and binded with equal ferocity—invisible blades before they drew steel. Neither backed down.
Elthunder dropped to the sand. Grima's scarlet eyes never left Chrom as he reached into his coat, held up the divine fury of Mjölnir, and let it join the other tome.
His reputation in front of the Shepherds, his chance to dispose of the future children, his Goddess Staff, even the barrier that shielded his mind from any who dared look in. Grima wasn't losing anything else today.
Author's notes: There were a lot of lines running at the same time this chapter, narratives and actions alike. Ah, the end of the semester is here. Is this more time or less time to write? Who really knows. Thanks as always for the reviews, and hello to the new reviewers! All input is appreciated. The end of part one is just a chapter away, so of course we have to send it off with a duel worth the position. Don't worry, the story is far from over!