A/N: This is my first real foray back into writing. There's definitely a great deal that I can do to improve this that I currently can't see, but I finally reached a point where I felt content with releasing this chapter. Clearly this is an FE: Awakening story, at least on the surface, which has garnered a lot of fatigue, but there's more to it than that further along. Please tell me how you feel about it in review or message form. I may be slow to reply, but I'll definitely read it.
Nicola felt his death approaching, but he didn't have the time to let that distract him as he pushed deeper into the sea of darkness. He had to save them, his friends that had been pulled in, his godchild and the one who jumped in after him to save another and the key to ending the Fell Dragon for good. He'd managed to rescue most of them, but two remained further in the ocean of malice that gnawed at his form.
The darkness tried to force the air from his lungs, but he held firm as the first of two guttering lights entered his field of vision. Cold that pierced deep into his core attempted to slow him as he reached the light and gave it some of his remaining life. The light brightened as he forced it upwards, ignoring the worried shout directed at him as he dove deeper. There was more work to be done and not nearly enough time to do it before he died or worse.
The visage of the Fell Dragon slowly appeared before him, bearing a fanged smile far too wide for the human face it wore.
"You believe you can still save them? I knew you were a fool, but this is far too tragic," Grima grinned, all fangs and malice. Violet flames surrounded them as they laughed haughty, arrogant assurance and power rolling off the dragon's vessel in waves. "This body is mine now and you aren't going to separate me from it, but I'm feeling generous. I'll humor the dying man before me."
The sea began to churn and twist then abruptly dropped from beneath the two of them as the Fell Dragon flicked their wrist casually. Nicola tucked into a roll, landing upon the violet platform that appeared beneath him as Grima floated down slowly. The dragon chose to dive when Nicola directed a beam of divine light their way with a gesture then detonated a sphere of blood red energy in their face. The haughty smile the dragon wore was replaced with a scowl as they landed, face singed by the attack though not badly enough to be a lasting injury.
"You're just as rude as your future self was," Grima sighed, crimson eyes glowing as they drew a jagged sword in the shape of a lightning bolt. "Unlike him, you face me in my domain and in my domain you are less than a gnat before me." They entered a fencer's stance and gestured for Nicola to approach. "Come, let me show you that your efforts are meaningless before the power of a god."
"You may test that assumption at your own risk," Nicola smiled in return. His vision swam and his entire body ached from the cold, but he wasn't going to let some uppity overgrown lizard keep the body of his family member without them putting him onto the ground first. Even the, with his death approaching, he wasn't going down without a fight and Grima knew well not to underestimate him just because he was dying: that had apparently cost them a great deal in the other timeline. Besides, he still had one last trick up his sleeves and he was certain Grima wasn't ready for this one.
He'd been called Kiran for the longest time. That wasn't his real name, but he chose not to remember much of his world before he'd arrived on Zenith. He could still recall a city with tall buildings and large vehicles unlike the carriages and wagons he'd grown accustomed to while he was with the Order of Heroes, but past that and the memory of being chased by something, he'd been a near blank slate by his own volition. The princess of Askr had given him the name and it stayed with him, eventually replacing his own, easily the greatest gift Zenith had given him before he was plunged into the deep end of the conflicts surrounding Askr.
Three years passed in the blink of an eye. The first year ended with the Order of Heroes pushing back the Emblan empire and getting room to breathe before Muspel attacked and the Order had to face them- or rather their emperor, Surtr- with the assistance of Nifl and their second princess. The war that followed changed Kiran, he'd gone from green and bumbling to hardened and unbending in his will. The loss of a great friend, the death of a compassionate warrior he'd come to respect and the senseless slaughter of innocent people brought about by the emperor of Muspel had reawakened a part of Kiran that threatened to consume him before the Askran princess brought him back from the brink of despair.
The second year ended with the death of Surtr, Kiran landing the fatal blow after refusing to use the Rite of Frost. He'd been yelled at over that but he managed to break the power of the Muspel Flame with the aid of the spirits of Muspel's and Niflheim's eldest princesses. The following peace granted Kiran time to find peace with himself and grow closer to his Askran allies, the princess especially. Their friendship stayed as such, but Kiran could see the desire for something more in the princess's eyes. That never came to be.
The third year was a year of tragedy. The fallen rose and fought the living in the name of Hel, Queen of the Dead. Friends and family fell and joined the Host of the Dead, weapons for a heartless witch that cared not for the living. Truces were made and ideas pooled as the war with the dead took a greater and greater toll on the living. There were no kingdoms or borders other than that of the dead to Hel, so the Askrans, Emblans, Nifl and Muspel joined together to defeat Hel, a union that cost their world its life.
Kiran lived to see all of his allies fall, some by stray blades, others by the queen of the dead herself and the last claimed by a cursed heart that would have held the power to end Hel. He too fell to the curse, a beat after Askr's prince and Embla's princess, the world's hope falling with him as he entered the beyond. Hel awaited him on the other side, ready to fetter him to her cause only to find him drifting out of her reach, out of her domain. He was falling through the dark, falling between stars and fragments of dreams that had once rested on his shoulders. And then he landed in a field, seemingly dead to the world.
When Kiran came to, he felt a disconnect from his past. Perhaps it was the effect of his own death or the numbness wrought from seeing so much death in a few short years. He didn't want to know which was which, not before he grieved those that he failed. He made himself cry, tears refusing to fall at first before the dam keeping them in shattered and they fell freely. He'd never forgive himself for failing them, all of them. Alfonse, Sharena, Anna, Fjorm, Laevatainn, Eir and even Veronica, they'd deserved better than what they'd been dealt. He'd do his best to honor them and avenge them if it was even possible, but first he'd need to know where he was. Drying his eyes, Kiran gave the field a glance and found himself surrounded by hills and orange tinged skies as far as he could see. The place was foreign yet vaguely familiar to him, he'd seen it before years ago. This was... Ylisse? Maybe it was Sacae or Renais, he was unsure with how little of the geography of those worlds he remembered.
"May as well look for someone or something to give me an idea of where I've ended up," Kiran thought aloud before grimacing. Kiran. He couldn't stand the name anymore, not when he'd failed those that had called him that. He'd have to call himself something else until he felt he deserved to be called Kiran once more. Walk and think, he commanded himself, it was better than lying around and doing nothing. And so he walked with no real idea where he was going, figuring he'd find a road or settlement before long. Probably.
Frederick the Wary was unamused. A routine investigation into bandit activity led to picking up a stray ruffian claiming to have amnesia despite knowing his lord's name. Against his wishes, Chrom and Lissa chose to have the pale youth accompany them until they were deemed a threat to the halidom or harmless. Frederick was leaning more towards the harmless side, though he wouldn't slack in his vigilance, even with how thin and malnourished the stranger looked.
The youth had bags under their eyes so deep it looked as if they seldom slept and was almost twig-like with how thin they were under the baggy black, purple and gold coat they wore. Their voice was a dust-dry rasp until Lissa gave them water, which honestly didn't change much for a long while. They were pale as a ghost, like they'd been raised away from the sun, and their hair had been so roughly cut that it was hard to tell whether or not they were supposed to be a man or woman when combined with the other facets of their appearance. Their gait was unsure and their stance passive in a manner suggesting a complete lack of depth in the current situation... or masterful control of their body language.
The four of them continued to Southtown, the last real settlement they would see before reaching the capital. With luck they would arrive before night fully fell and be able to stock up on supplies before continuing their travels. The faster they returned, the faster Frederick could look into their fourth member and act based on those findings. He gently nudged his mount onwards, upping the travel pace for the group just enough that they'd arrived a short while before the evening set in. All was going well and smoothly until some fool stepped out from the brush and into his path.
It took everything Frederick had to stop Bastion from running down the inattentive fool, pulling the reins just in time for the horse to knock him over rather than trample him. Lissa and Chrom both rushed to the fallen man, concern visible. The stranger with them looked confused for a moment before ultimately rushing over to join the prince and princess while he dismounted. "Are you alright," Lissa asked, waving a hand in front of the man.
"Can you see how many fingers I'm holding up?" Four and a thumb, Frederick grumbled to himself as his annoyance began to peak.
"Five," the man breathed, blinking eyes that flashed sea green for a moment before settling on an earthy brown. That was suspect.
"Beware when coming onto the road from the hills," Chrom chided. "If Frederick had been any slower we wouldn't be having a conversation at all."
"...Sorry," the man grumbled, annoyed. It was easy to see it was directed at himself rather than Chrom or Frederick however. He took a deep breath to center himself before speaking again. "Is this Sacae, Renais or Ylisse?" The quartet blinked. Ylisse clearly was the answer there, where or what were Sacae or Renais? It was Lissa who answered as the man looked at the four of them with owlish eyes.
"Ylisse. I've never heard of Sacae or Renais."
"You probably wouldn't have," was his reply as he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his eyes were sharp as a blade but lacking in intent. Nonetheless Frederick's guard rose further.
"What, if I may ask, were you doing in the brush," the knight asked, eyes narrowed as he took in the new stranger and their equally strange attire. He wore a cotton long sleeved grey tunic with black stripes running along it and grey trousers with a multitude of pockets made of a fabric finer than any the knight had seen over heavy brown boots with soles made of an odd black material. A white and gold coat was fastened around his waist in place of a belt- no, over one, Frederick observed, noting an empty holster beneath the coat- and fingerless grey gloves adorned his hands. His height was about equal to Chrom's before the wavy black mess that was his hair was accounted for, hair that fell to his shoulders. His complexion was naturally tanned and his build was athletic but slim. His face was youthful barring his eyes, which looked wizened and sharp as a blade despite his gentle smile.
"I was lost and wanted to find civilization," he answered before bowing. "I apologize for any danger or inconvenience I may have caused with my inattentiveness."
"All is forgiven," Chrom replied with a laugh. "You wouldn't also happen to be an amnesiac, would you?"
"Milord," Frederick groaned as the fourth member of their band let out a dry laugh, equally unamused.
"Oh, ha ha," they rasped before Lissa handed them her waterskin. They drank deeply and greedily, emptying the skin in a moment before muttering an apology to the princess.
"My memory is fine more or less, I just get lost rather easily," the man replied. "I'm Nicola."
"That's a foreign name if I've heard one. Regardless, well met, Nicola. I'm Chrom. The knight looking over you is Frederick, while the dainty one is my sister Lissa," Chrom introduced.
"I am NOT dainty," Lissa scowled. "Or delicate!"
"And I'm... Robin," the amnesiac breathed after a moment. They blinked in realization as Chrom, Lissa and Frederick turned to them. "It just came to me. How strange. I guess that's one mystery solved?"
Frederick narrowed his eyes at them, causing Robin to gulp. Before the knight could say anything else, Lissa interrupted.
"Er, Chrom, Frederick..."
"Yes, Lissa?" Both responded.
"The town, it's ablaze."
"Oh." The group paused before Chrom took command.
"It must be the work of those blasted brigands! Frederick, Lissa! Quickly!"
"What about those two," Frederick gestured to Robin and where Nicola once stood, the man already rushing towards the burning settlement. "Oh bother."
"They aren't burning so they can wait! Nicola!" The man didn't reply as he ran. "Blast, unarmed as he is he'll get himself hurt or worse! Let's go!"
Lissa nodded and hopped onto Bastion as Frederick spurred the horse towards the town, with Chrom in pursuit. Robin stood there for a moment, trying and failing to formulate sentences, before running after the group.
He hated burning villages and settlements. They reminded him of the tactics Surtr used, burning down villages and towns to draw the Order of Heroes to him. Kira- no, Nicola, growled as he reached the settlement, buildings burning as bandits plundered as they pleased and descended upon those too slow to escape them. He'd put an end to that, even if his old tool was gone. His eyes became narrow slits as he darted towards the nearest brigands, a swordsman of some sort.
The myrmidon turned as he heard approaching footsteps, laughing to himself as he saw an unarmed man rushing him in what had to be desperation. He readied his blade and made a practiced swing towards Nicola, sure the strike would slay the fool before he knew what hit him. Instead his blade struck the air as Nicola hopped back then lunged forward to deliver a devastating right cross to the brigand's jaw. The myrmidon reeled from the blow, mouth bloodied and balance destroyed, coming to just in time to see the unarmed man's fist flying towards with his face before being blown through a fruit stand. He didn't move after that.
Nicola didn't relax, already having noticed the pair of spear wielding bandits charging him with their weapons ready. He weaved between their thrusts and strikes, their moves amateurish and slow compared to those of his deceased allies and his greatest foe. They believed themselves to be cornering him as he backpedaled to another stand, malicious grins plastered across their faces as they lowered their guards towards a now cornered foe. Unfortunate for them.
The pair hardly had time to regret that choice as Chrom rounded the corner and delivered a quick but fatal slash to the neck of the leftmost spearman. In that same moment, Nicola drew the rightmost into lunging at him only to duck out of the weapon's path then strike its wielder in the sternum, winding the man enough for him to drop the weapon and fall prey to Chrom's blade.
"That was reckless," the prince began, but Nicola silenced him with a gesture.
"Bandits first, lecture later," he said, picking up the fallen spear. "I can handle myself, you make sure Robin doesn't bite off more than he can chew."
He didn't wait for a reply, rushing to the bridge within the burning town. What awaited him was a mage positioned just out of range of the other bandits. The mage yelled out a warning as he approached before opening a tome and unleashing a bolt of lightning his way. Nicola heard someone cry for him to look out, only for the cry to cut short when he parried the bolt and sent it back to the caster with a deft flick from his appropriated weapon. The mage let out a startled cry, moving far too slowly to avoid the brunt of the returned bolt's power, and dropped like a rock into the water beneath the bridge. Nicola gave the remaining bandits a look of challenge as the quartet caught up to him.
"What're you rabble waiting for, gut them," their leader howled. The remaining bandits hesitated before following their orders. Two myrmidons engaged Chrom while one of the pair with axes engaged with Frederick and the other went for Nicola. The remaining mage chose Robin as their target, hoping to avoid a repeat of the other mage's folly.
Chrom danced between his opponents, blocking and parrying their slashes and thrusts with grace befitting a dancer. His movements were refined and elegant, highlighting a contrast between himself and the sloppy yet practiced strikes of the bandits before he cut them down in two swift strokes. Frederick's opponent barely had time to move before he found himself skewered by the knight's lance and flung to the side. Nicola's enemy fared no better, his stance broken as the man twirled his lance around and swept his legs from under him in a single motion before pivoting into a thrust that drove the head of the weapon into the brigand's throat.
Robin's bout was the most even, the tactician and mage slinging spells at one another as they used the pillars surrounding the bridge as cover. Robin fired bolts of jagged lightning from his book while the enemy mage hurled balls of flame back in retaliation. One or two orbs managed to singe the tactician's coat, but not before they fired a paralyzing bolt at the mage, snaring them long enough for the silver haired person to draw their blade and run them through. That left the leader of the brigands.
"You Ylissean rats think you can take me," the man laughed madly as he brandished his axe, "I'll cut you lot down to size on my own!"
Chrom and Nicola wasted no time rushing the man, Robin falling back to provide ranged support. This bandit was more skilled than the others, able to score a rather deep cut along Nicola's leg, forcing the man to fall back while Chrom dueled him. Frederick was quick to fill in the gap in offense left by him and, with Robin's assistance the prince and knight pair began to push the bandit captain back.
Lissa went to work quickly, drawing a short staff from a holster on the side of her belt as she assessed Nicola's injury. Nothing important had been severed, but the axe had cut deep regardless, meaning the injury would need to be wrapped and that she'd need to use her staff to accelerate the healing. It didn't escape her that Nicola was quiet the entire time and that he reacted in an almost mechanical manner the moment he was injured. More concerning was the fact that he hadn't let out a single peep as she finished treating his wound and the warped way his vitality felt as she had been healing him. Lissa didn't appreciate how quickly Nicola sprung to his feet after her treatment, but accepted his quiet thanks as the battle came to a close.
The summoner rose in time to see Robin hit the bandit with a bolt of lightning that seemed to bounce and roll off of both Frederick's lance and the tip of Chrom's sword before it struck the bandit square in the chest. He hardly had time to let out a cry as his eyes rolled back and he slumped over dead.
The group didn't have time to celebrate routing the bandits, now having to direct their attention towards the still burning buildings within the town. Chrom and Frederick looked for pails of water while Robin tried to snuff out fire with magic where they could. Lissa looked for injured people and, with Nicola's aid, moved them to safer areas and healed them as best she could. Once that was done, Nicola hopped into the water and fished the corpse of the first mage out before moving to assist Chrom and Frederick. It was an arduous process, the smoke and heat making their lives much more difficult but they eventually finished putting out the fires. It helped that some of the townsfolk joined in after Lissa began laying into them for watching the others work in a dazed manner.
Once all was said and done, the burial of the bandits included, the villagers thanked the group and offered them a place for the night but both Frederick and Chrom declined, stating business back in the capital. Lissa objected, loudly, but Frederick chided her about getting used to traveling and camping in the wilderness. Nicola requested a sewing kit, intent on mending his trousers, and two waterskins, one for himself and Robin. The villagers obliged and the items were given along with a small number of vegetables while Chrom promised that the town would see increased security and aid once word of the attack reached the capital. The group gave their final farewells to the people of Southtown then continued on their trek to the capital.
"I've been meaning to ask, why are you going with us," Frederick breathed after an hour or so into their journey. "Robin I can understand, what with milord wanting to help them with their 'amnesia' and more or less inducting them to join us after their performance in Southtown. You, however, I don't understand. Why continue with us after reaching civilization as you wished?" Nicola shrugged, but remained quiet for the longest time. When he finally spoke, Frederick was more annoyed that he deigned to answer the question so late rather than keep his response a gesture.
"I figured that going with you would lead me to a place where I could gather information, unlike that town. You clearly have a reason for doing this 'Shepherd' thing you're doing and it reminded me of something my friends did long ago," He said, unconsciously tightening his grasp on the spear he now carried.
"And would you not wish to look for your friends," the knight prodded then continued after a thought, "Though I concede that perhaps travelling to Ylisstol would help with that if they were luckier than you finding civilization."
"No point," the man replied, eyes misty. Frederick took it as a sign to not pry and kept his piece. Chrom did not.
"And why's that? Who knows, maybe you could reunite when we get there! It'd be a coincidence but a merry one, wouldn't you think?" Chrom laughed good naturedly, failing to notice as the other man's expression grew cloudy. "That would be a coincidence, about the same as seeing the Exalt as soon as we arrive."
Frederick gave the prince a nudge and tilted his head to Nicola, who remained quiet. The prince's expression fell, realizing something was bothering their new companion. He quickly changed the subject, choosing to tell the foreigners of the capital and its beauty. Robin listened, eyes bright with excitement with each detail Chrom added to the city while Nicola simply raised an eyebrow. Neither noticed as Lissa and Frederick began to trail behind.
"Frederick, something's wrong," Lissa said once she and the knight were out of earshot of Chrom and the others. "Nicola is... strange."
"I've gathered that, but not to what extent," the knight nodded. "Please elaborate."
"When he was hurt fighting that bandit, he hardly reacted. I thought it was the battle rush you've mentioned on occasion, but when I healed him his life force felt odd. Most people feel warm or even hot when I'm healing them with magic, the heat or warmth being a representation of their life force. Robin felt warm when I patched her up and so did the villagers. I'd imagine you and Chrom would have felt the same if I had needed to heal you as well. Nicola, though... It was like plunging my hands into a lake of burning ice while they were bound in iron," the princess explained. "I thought it was just shock from actually having to heal someone that had more than slight bumps and bruises like Robin did when we found her-"
"Her," Frederick perked up, genuine surprise on his face. Lissa had been able to discern more about the mage than he had despite him watching them like a hawk?
"Robin is a woman, yes. Healing magic tells you a great deal about the person it's being used on, to a disconcerting degree actually. That's not what I wanted to talk about, though." Lissa said, frowning. " When Nicola was helping me reach and heal people after the fighting stopped I ran my magic over him a second time and I felt the exact same way as before. I'm not certain what that means, but it isn't normal, nor was his reaction. If not for the fact that I could heal him at all, I'd wonder if he was even alive."
"I see," Frederick said, more to himself than his charge. "When we make it back to Ylisstol I'll look into that with the utmost haste, though we may need your sister or a high ranking member of Naga's Devout and their expertise in the matter."
"So long as it doesn't add much more to her plate, Emm's been really busy as of late keeping the people happy even as the raids from Plegia get worse and worse. Not that she'd let anyone know that from a look or be willing to take a break." The princess huffed, having had that particular conversation twice now.
"Of course, milady. Lady Emmeryn's wellbeing is as important to me as your health and your brother's." The knight gave a reassuring smile before letting his more serious expression cover it. "We should catch up to the others before they notice."
Lissa only nodded as they made their way back towards the others in their group in silence. Hopefully things would be alright once they reached the capital.