Chapter 53: Glimmer
Validar left his kingdom behind, slipping into the domain of a god. The wane light was swallowed up by the water, the deeper he went. Chasm walls rose around him, like hungry jaws eating the light, and he was swimming to the gullet. Validar didn't flinch from the imagery; after all, he was drifting into the embrace of Grima.
And with all the sacrifices he'd tossed into the depths, he had no doubt of his own status in the eyes of Grima. The god wouldn't kill him, or devour him. He was too valuable for that.
"Grima, god of storms, devourer of the surface," to ensure that, he murmured a prayer as he swam. "Your children call out for you, for strength and guidance. We beseech you, lend a fraction of your power, and your most devout disciples."
He'd swam deep enough, now that the only light came from his own scales. The waters rumbled around him, like something on the sea floor was stirring and exhaling.
"Grima… We're so close to seeing your will carried out. To reviving you. We just need a few more pieces… And chief among them, your avatar." He fought to keep his voice level, and to keep rage from bleeding into his tone. Such things didn't do, when addressing a god.
'The fool of a girl… If she'd only accepted her destiny, this wouldn't be necessary.'
"Robin has slipped from our grasp… But she grows in power. Even now, she can channel your voice. Her flesh is almost ready for you to inhabit."
The waters rumbled again, pressing against his gills and fins. Almost seeming to ask then what is holding you back?
"But I need to find a way to fetch her… I need something stronger than my own subjects." Silence greeted him, like the dragon was considering his words… And then something flickered in the depths. A collection of shapes broke form the walls, and rose up.
They moved like eels or sharks, barely remembering to use the taloned hands that trailed at their sides. Their eyes were milky and glazed over, barely focusing on Validar. His own talons scratched over a vial of glass… And at the sound, the strangers paused.
Validar stared over them, little more than a collection of feral shapes. Their fangs jutted past ragged lips, claws overgrown, and eyes half opaque from their time in the depths. Their tails thrashed restlessly at the water, and he had the faint impression they'd be ready to shift their aggression onto him at a moment's weakness.
A crackle of magic held them at bay easily enough. It was just the quickest flare of power at the tips of his fingers, showing that he was no easy bit of prey; not like the landwalkers. Validar allowed himself a smirk as he looked over the fallen Mer.
'Grima's own.' Given over to feral instinct, little more than savage vessels. Forsaking the surface and its light entirely, to be closer to their god. He fancied that there was a faint red glow to their markings as well. He lifted his hand, watching as his own bioluminescence mirrored theirs. They made for dangerous creatures… But just then he needed something violent.
"I have a simple set of orders for you." He held out a glass vial, filled with blood and diluted sea water. His talons easily yanked out the cork, and the blood seeped up into a veil, that the Mer eagerly tasted. They stirred like hounds ready to be set on a trail.
"Find those who bled this. Lead me to them. Chase them through the seas, fetch them back… And when you find them, there is one other."
He called up a glimmer of magic, shaping a glowing portal and image between himself and the half feral Mer. A faint robed figure was called up, her features half obscured.
"What… Is this?" The lead Mer snarled. His tongue wasn't used to forming words, and the other feral creatures fluttered around him; restless from hearing so many words, after living in silence.
"Her name is Morgana. She once accepted a place at my side… But she's shunned that." Validar narrowed his eyes on the sight. "Still, she's grown careless. She's been calling magic, letting it echo and seep through the waves… And giving me an idea of where to find her."
Validar ended the vision with a curt motion.
"She's sailing on the waters. If you find her… Pull her back into the embrace of the waves. Whether she drowns or chooses to adapt again to the waters, it matters not to me. As long as you find Robin, bring her and her mother back to the ocean, and give the waters their due… That's all that matters."
-o-o-o-
Walhart's ship made for a strange, floating prison. But it was a prison, all the same. Lissa found herself under guard… But not bound by ropes, or locked away in a single room. Instead she could walk the length of the ship, even watch the waves travel by. Her escort said nothing, never answering her voice, or even her taunts.
It was like being guarded by phantoms. It also gave Lissa precious little to do, aside from eat, sleep, and watch the waves go by.
'One of these days, I'm going to need to learn how to swim.' She thought to herself, glowering as another island slipped by. She didn't have any chance of reaching the islands, any more than she could breathe water. It was like seeing the key to her prison, just barely out of reach.
With a sigh, Lissa transferred her glare to the guards around her.
"You guys are driving me crazy with the silent treatment, you know." Her voice was sullen, and Lissa didn't care. "It's not like there's anything for me to DO, other than be bored. Though if this is your torture tactic, just boring me to death, then I guess it's working-?"
Another figure joined them as she spoke. She flinched from the splash of scarlet… And didn't raise her eyes to meet the figure.
"Um… Actually I'm just fine with being ignored after all, if you want." She muttered, but Walhart didn't move from her words. Walhart gave a curt gesture… And for once the guards put hands on Lissa's shoulders, forcefully marching her towards a stern cabin.
"Okay, okay! I get the point!" Lissa struggled under their grip, trying to walk on her own. She ended up stumbling through the doorway, into a spacious cabin. A table draped with a fine, velvet table cloth held all manner of edible things, many of which Lissa hadn't tasted in days. Her stomach grumbled, reminding Lissa that she'd had little aside from bread.
Walhart stepped past Lissa and stood at the end of the table.
"Leave us." Walhart's voice was curt, as were his motions. The soldiers left Lissa alone in the ship's cabin, lurching back and forth as Lissa tried to find her balance. It was a mixed effort, as the rocking of the ship stole her footing… Along with Walhart's steady look.
"Take a seat for now… You don't serve me by falling over." Lissa glanced over the table, at the various custards and even roast ham glinting in the candle light.
Her stomach felt particularly hollow, and wanted to follow Walhart's orders… But Lissa opted to ignore both.
"What exactly do you want from me?" Lissa asked him instead, planting her feet and staring back at Walhart. "There… There's got to be a reason you're keeping me alive, isn't there?"
Walhart didn't deign to answer right away. Instead he fixed her with a piercing look, enough to make Lissa shrink away by a step or two.
"What I want is answers. On just what sort of hold your family has on the sea. And your gifts."
"…What are you getting at?" Lissa kept her voice low… But doubted she was playing dumb very well. Not with the hard look Walhart gave her. He strode forward, and gave her a firm shove towards the table. Lissa threw her hands out to keep from crashing into it, and stumbled into a waiting chair.
"I've heard the reports; the way your ships have danced just outside of the ruin the storms have visited on my own fleet. And I've heard the tales about your brother. And how he was Tide Touched. It seems that gift has resurfaced in your family. I've seen Chrom, and the hold the sea has on him." Walhart murmured.
'It's not just him.' Lissa thought, but managed to keep her mouth shut.
Lissa rubbed at her wrists, hoping the hems of her sleeves were long enough to obscure the pinprick scales gathering along her arms. They had appeared after her capture and refused to vanish, no matter how many nights she'd spent rubbing and scratching at them… But at least they hadn't grown beyond those flakes of green.
"It seems your family has a mixed legacy… And a tie to whatever lurks beneath the waves."
'And whatever it is still hungry. And ready to eat up my family.'
A shudder tried to sink into her, starting from her shoulders and working down to her hands. A bolt of cold went with it, and she swore there was a prickling underneath her skin. More scales trying to grow.
'Guess once it's got you, the ocean doesn't want to let go.' She kept her hands stuck underneath the table, collapsing further into the offered chair. Walhart raised an eyebrow at that.
"My family… Well, we've got ties to the First Exalt. And we've had friends that help us read the tides… Though you did your best to take them away from us."
"You mean that silver haired witch?" Lissa tried not to bristle. "How did you come by her?"
"Why should I tell you, if you're trying to kill her!?" Lissa shot back; there was an odd buzzing in her blood, and it seemed to loosen her lips.
"Because it's in your best interest to explain to me. You've had freedom to wander the ship, and food and water… And I could easily take any of those away." Lissa glared at the threat.
"Maybe… But there's got to be a reason you haven't killed me yet." Lissa shot back. "You certainly could if you wanted. A-and I remember what you did to my brother. So what makes me the exception?"
"Ah yes… Killing." Walhart considered the word.
"It is an option, but not one to pursue until all others are exhausted. It would make your entire family into a collection of martyrs, and interfere with the goals of my empire. I don't want to give your resistance further traction."
"S-so why ARE you doing this, anyway?" Lissa pressed, feeling a little bit bolder when he motioned again for her to eat. She poured a flask of juice, drinking from it before continuing. "…I can ask that, right?"
For a moment she wondered if Walhart would break their peace, with how he glowered at her… But then his expression shifted.
"You've some boldness. But to answer you… I've seen the terror of Grima's storms. The dead that rise from the depths, and the feral things clawing their way out of the waves, half human and half sea creature."
Walhart's fingers tensed on the table, recounting everything Lissa had faced. For Lissa, a shiver traveled through her as she remembered the terror, and the myriad ways she'd almost drowned.
"That's why I seek to unite all islands. To have a unified nation, before the thing beneath the waves finally stirs."
'Emmeryn wanted the same thing… But she didn't need to conquer nations to do that.' Her thoughts darkened, as did her face.
"…It seems you need time to consider it. That your siblings may have chosen the wrong path." He didn't need violence, when his words hurt like a blow. "I'll give you another day to consider and choose your answer. Whether you'll freely share your secrets, or-"
"Walhart, sir! We've found the fleet!" Came a voice through the door. "Our wyverns spotted them, a few days out from us!"
"…And it seems you'll have a chance to witness their weakness, first hand. I'll break that fleet… And have the answers from you."
-o-o-o-
'Fresh blood in the water.' The thought blared through Emmeryn, like a wound in its own right. It yanked her up from where she was resting, after a long day of tending injuries. She darted upright, swimming quickly.
Emmeryn swam through the rocks and caverns, and drifted wide around the various merfolk. There were extra forms to navigate, with the hideout more crowded than before. More were rallying to Say'ri's rebellion… And most of them needed healing.
Including a fresh crop of injured. She drifted to one of the new comers, and set about binding her wounds.
The green of the kelp soaked up the blood, and kept it from drifting in the ocean. The last thing they needed was sharks catching scent of the wounds, and turning the forest into a hunting ground.
Say'ri swam among them, checking her soldiers. She couldn't dress wounds quite like Emmeryn could, but she still managed an encouraging word or two, and a gentle murmur.
"They haven't beaten us yet." She assured her soldiers.
"No, but Validar is still taking chunks out of us." One of the more scarred Mer grumbled, as Emmeryn finished with one soldier and moved to him. "How are we going to keep standing against him? It feels… Impossible sometimes. Like we're only losing ground. We won't have any territory other than the kelp forest."
"Take heart," Say'ri assured him. "We aren't finished yet."
Emmeryn finished tending his wounds, and felt a brief rush of energy travel through her arms. The worst of the cuts closed under her care, and she felt a light buzzing in her head.
"Well…" the Mer admitted. "We've got a chance to lick our wounds at least. That'll help us hold out for a little longer." Emmeryn dipped her head at that, accepting the praise… And trying not to think about how they were on borrowed time.
Then it was onto the next collection of Mer, drifting in the ocean. They were tangled in the kelp strands, half resting and trying not to drift into the open ocean. Emmeryn swam to them, checking for wounds and mending where she could. It helped take her mind off the pain in her own scales, and the ache settling in her heart.
"That's her. Say'ri's miracle worker." The voices drifted into her hearing. Emmeryn did her best not too take much a heed of it, something in her head telling her that she was well practiced at turning a deaf ear. Particularly to conversations involving her.
'There was no shortage of gossip involving you.' The thought flickered into her head. And something about it seemed familiar, even if the details stayed completely hazy.
Say'ri swam between Emmeryn and the strangers, shielding her from those judging eyes.
"Something troubling you?" Emmeryn wanted to shake her head, and say no… But something about Say'ri forced some honesty out of her.
"I… I just want to know where Chrom is." Emmeryn told them. "W-we lost sight of them in the storm-"
"Try not to worry," Say'ri told Emmeryn. "From the sounds of it, he was with Robin… And together, I get the feeling these two have a knack for surviving impossible situations."
"You… Think so?"
"I certainly got that idea, looking at them…"
Say'ri trailed off, as a cry went up and Mer streamed out of the caves, traveling towards groves and the edges of the kelp.
"Wh-what's gotten into them? What's going on?" Emmeryn asked the crowd.
"They've made it back!" Came a voice.
"Chrom and Robin?" Emmeryn whispered. Her tail was already pushing her through the waters.
Kelp tried to tangle her tail, but Emmeryn swam and twisted through the strands. She fixed her eyes to the collection of Mer, all circling a group of newcomers. The two Plegian Mer were at the forefront; beyond them, she picked out violet and blue scales, and the knot in her throat eased apart.
"Y-you made it…" She wasn't entirely sure what that warm feeling was in her chest. Relief, possibly, and joy over seeing them mostly in one piece.
'Who are these people to you… And why are you so relieved that they're alive?'
She didn't have an answer, other than the fact that she didn't want that gentle, reassuring feeling to leave her. And that same feeling drew her closer, the other Mer parting to make way for her.
Chrom and Robin had picked up more than a few wounds since she'd last seen them; Robin was bruised and scuffed, but Chrom seemed to fare the worst. Chrom winced as an improvised, red cloth bag bumped against his side, and scuffed a jagged cut that traced over him.
But he was still drawing breath, even with the red tracing along his side.
'This is not the first time you've worried me.' Her thoughts provided.
"You're alive… But in bad shape, it seems. You can't seem to stay uninjured for long." She wanted to sound scolding, but all she could feel was relief. She drew magic up, cleaning and closing the first cut on Chrom's body.
Robin kept a hand on Chrom, holding him upright as Emmeryn worked on his wounds. Robin's fingers traced patterns along his skin, and her touch was even gentler than Emmeryn's. Her eyes also studied Chrom, narrowing every time he winced. Almost like she was sharing his pain.
"You…" Emmeryn picked out the words. "You seem to be a magnet for trouble."
"Yeah, that does seem to be a running pattern with us… But we at least finished our task." Chrom told her, as the last of his wounds closed up.
"You mean that you have-?" Say'ri whispered, and Chrom produced an emerald gemstone from the satchel at his side.
"I hope this gives you a boost." Chrom told her, eyes flickering to his own scales. There was a sharp silver light to them, that Emmeryn hadn't noticed before.
"We… Didn't realize Vert was the same as our gemstones." Robin provided. "We've stumbled across two… Well, three. Two in our grasp," she motioned to their scales, and the colors there. "And one that Validar is still hanging onto."
Say'ri couldn't seem to break her eyes from the emerald gem, almost entranced by the vivid color.
"I… Remember something about this gemstone. Something important about it… Like I used to hold this gemstone. But I can't remember why… Only a face, and a name. Y-Yen'fay…" Say'ri trailed off at that, shaking her head. A paleness had settled across her face, and Emmeryn could almost feel the pain that had to be building in her head.
"M-my apologies." Say'ri said. "I promise you aid, but I think I need to rest, first."
"Nothing to worry about there; I think we all need to rest." Chrom managed, sagging a little against Robin. "If you've got a cave we can curl up in, that'll be enough for me; any formal talks can happen after we're not all tilting over."
That seemed to be the signal for everyone to disperse.
In the pause, Emmeryn had more time to study Chrom, and wonder at the familiar feeling. It seemed that patchy memories were a common thing, at least among the Mer she'd been introduced to.
As she watched the two, and wondered at their intimacy, she caught a glimmer around their necks. Something that hadn't been there before, Emmeryn was sure.
"Those things on your necks." Emmeryn reached half towards them, a look of intense concentration on her face. "There's something… Familiar about them. It feels like I…"
Her head threatened to split, but Emmeryn refused to let go of the faint memory.
"Like I gave them to you."
Half remembered words tried to work their way onto her tongue, something that could have been a prayer. Or a ceremony. But she couldn't quite make out the details to it. Chrom didn't seem to trust himself to speak, making a hesitant nod as he touched at the necklace and ring around his neck.
Robin, meanwhile, had an odd pink glow to her.
"Do… Those rings make you happy?" Emmeryn found herself pressing.
"A-absolutely." Chrom told her. There was still an ache in Emmeryn as she watched them. That didn't keep a light feeling from settling in her chest, at odds with the pain growing along her head.
"But… I-I suppose you have the right of it. You need to heal and rest." Emmeryn sighed out at last; the vague memories would have to suffice, for now.
-o-o-o-
"It's time to bait a trap." Gangrel said, running his fingers over the Levin blade and testing the edge.
"Indeed? And what did you have in mind, milord?" Aversa was seated across the deck from him, managing a set of vials gifted to her by Validar.
"Walhart has been growing aggressive. Trying to track us down almost faster than we can move our forces… So I suspect that it's time we give him what he wants, and go forth to meet him."
He snapped his head to the wheel.
"You lot heard that, right? So get to work!" The crew leapt to obey him. After all, he'd given them back a wrecked ship, salvaged from the merfolk and woven together by magic… And he suspected they didn't want to press him, lest they find out what else he was capable of.
The new ship cut through the waves, sharp as his blade. Scraggly islands drifted past as they pushed ever westward. Gangrel even recognized a few of them; places he'd hidden his ships during the worst storms… And even an old, half worn port clinging to a beach. The ship slowed, considering the sparse settlement.
"And what would this be?" Aversa asked.
"Left overs of Plegia... But I have no more use for it." Gangrel sneered, looking over ragged docks; he could even see a few buildings with candles burning in their windows. The place was in need of more fire, however.
"Burn it." His orders were crisp, and stilled his entire crew.
"Captain… These were our territories once." One of the raider mages hesitated, not even bothering to follow orders and call a fire spell up. "We have countrymen still there-"
"Countrymen who didn't follow my summons." Gangrel cut him off with a curt, dismissive motion. "They threw their lot in with Walhart, and that makes them an enemy."
But still the mage didn't react to his orders, wouldn't call up magic. A blaze of anger struck at his heart, and stained the corners of his vision with red.
"Sir, I… I'm loath to-" His ears rang, and the Levin sword buzzed at his side, restless at the lack of violence. "I've no wish for violence-"
"Well… Aren't you lucky I have enough bloodlust." Gangrel cut him off, and drew the Levin blade before the man could so much as blink. Gangrel cut out with the blade, leaving the air crackling around him.
The mage might very well have not realized that he was dead, or felt the blood welling up in a massive diagonal slice along his body. His last reaction was to go slack, and tip over the edge of the ship and into the waters.
"Would anyone else like to join him?" Gangrel pointed out with his blade, tracing a slow trail at the remaining crew. "The waves could always stand to go a bit more red."
No others objected. Gangrel gave a grim nod, turning to face the coastal town.
"Now, since there are no further objections…. I want you to make these waters run red. And there's a reason for that… Beyond giving traitors their due." He dipped his head to Aversa, fighting down the urge to give her a mocking bow.
'She may find it humorous… or she may be just as short tempered as I, and hiding it better. Either way, she still needs to see me as useful… If I'm going to use her in turn.'
"You see gentlemen, we won't be fighting this alone. There are powers beneath the waves. Some of you may have seen them, during our battle with Ylisse. Those powers saved the Ylisse Princeling from his much deserved fate…" Gangrel sneered that out. "…But we can also harness them."
That stopped any murmurs cold.
"With the proper blood offering, of course. And we won't hesitate to give them an offering… And perhaps issue a challenge to Walhart as well." Gangrel gave the settlement a bloodthirsty look. "So let's light a signal fire for merfolk and Valmese alike. We burn our way all the way to Ylisse's pitiful, former capital, and bait them out."
-o-o-o-
Frederick had lost track of the last time he'd gotten any sleep. Ever since the storm winds had scattered the fleet, he'd spent long red-eyed nights at the tiller. He didn't dare rest his eyes for too long, hoping that somehow he'd find an answer.
'You'd warned Lissa of the same thing you're doing now… And yet…' He couldn't quite finish the thought; fatigue and pain both conspired against him.
Frederick found himself sagging against the wheel, eyes scanning the horizon.
He carried more than the weight of his armor now. First Emmeryn, then Chrom, and now Lissa lost at sea. Frederick was ready to cast himself overboard in penance… And only the worried looks of the crew stilled him from doing just that.
'You can't leave them all further adrift than they already are.' Frederick told himself. That, and he had to hold onto the hope that Lissa was still alive. She'd believed that the rest of her family was still out there… Perhaps it was time for him to extend that same hope for her, that she'd be able to pull through.
Even though that left him feeling adrift, barely able to command a single ship. He couldn't even control the Shepherd during the battle, couldn't hold onto Lissa or bring the ship back to her. His eyes kept flickering to the ocean, hoping there'd be some sign of what to do… Or an impossible reassurance that his charges were still alive.
'Have faith.' He tried to tell himself, right as one of the crew stepped forward, giving him a dearly needed distraction.
"Sir Frederick, news from the Feroxi scout ships." Virion informed him. Even the archer seemed subdued after everything that happened, and lacked his usual flair.
"Plegia has grown more bold in recent days. They've been striking indiscriminately at anything they find… Including their former holdings, those who have turned over to the Conqueror."
"This troubles you?" Frederick asked after a moment, after his exhausted mind pieced everything together.
"It's too rash, even for pirates. And I wouldn't believe they'd so brazenly sign their own death warrants. They have to be baiting the Conqueror… And he'll answer."
And they'd need to respond in turn, Frederick knew.
"Sir Frederick. Walhart doesn't do things by halves. He'll kill the Plegians, burn their towns, and for good measure kill everything else in the vicinity, just so no one gets the idea to replicate anything they've witnessed. His solution is to leave no witnesses at all… And every sign points towards this becoming a blood bath."
"Do you think our ships can stand against that?" Frederick murmured, looking over the battered Shepherd-
And he found himself gazing at another figure moving across the deck, and giving him a worried look.
"Lady Sumia," he named the figure as she walked forward.
"F-Frederick. I have a report of my own to make." Sumia said, and Frederick had to motion her forward; she seemed almost afraid-
"But… I'm worried about you. Sir, if I give my report… Do you promise to rest?"
"That depends on the nature of the report." Sumia frowned at that, but forced herself to continue.
"I… I took one of the pegasi out for a flight, to investigate the area. I-I saw ships out from a long way, ones with red sails."
"Valmese ships." Frederick said.
"Right… Before their arrows could find me, I flew in for a closer look. And… And I think there was someone in yellow on the ship. S-someone who looked a lot like Lissa."
Frederick went shock still and then slack at that.
"Lissa… Is alive." He almost collapsed from relief. Sumia swooped in to help hold him up. "I… I suppose I can get some rest, after all. We'll need all our wits and strength, if we're to face the Valmese and carry out a rescue."
-o-o-o-
"Well. It seems there is an extra use for you after all." Walhart told Lissa, several nights later. He'd ordered her brought to the prow, no matter how much her legs protested.
Now, she found herself on wobbly legs, feeling like she'd never been on a ship until now.
"…What are you talking about?" Lissa muttered, frowning at Walhart.
"Just this. When we sail into battle, you'll be present on the ship. And highly visible to Ylisse. I doubt they'll chose to attack us as long you remain a hostage, which will give me time to punish the Plegian traitors."
"And afterwards…?" Lissa asked, wondering at the dread in her stomach.
"Afterwards, we shall see… If the Ylissean's surrender without condition, perhaps you will live another day. If not, you'll serve as a way to break them." With those words, Walhart motioned for her guard to take her away. The silver haired man nodded, and guided Lissa back towards her cabin.
"You'll be safe for now. If Walhart sees a use for you… Then he'll keep you alive." The man kept his head low, shame seeming to color his voice. Lissa had the faint impression that he spoke from experience.
"I'm almost tempted to jump overboard, just to throw a wrench in his plans." Lissa growled.
"Y-you surely jest?" The silver haired man went a touch more pale, almost stricken from those words.
"…Kinda. Mostly. But what do you care, mister-?"
"Forgive me, we haven't met yet. My name is Yen'fay." The soldier told her.
"You're acting awfully familiar, Mister Yen'fay." Lissa muttered, while he averted his eyes. "What are you aiming for? Information? Some secret to relay to your lord?"
"I… Just ask that you don't rush to throw away your life. The Conqueror is a calculating man… but he also has no patience for defiance. I've learned that several times already." Lissa blinked at his words, swearing she heard something of Chrom in them.
'He's like a protective older brother alright.' Which made her wonder where Yen'fay's sibling was. And how Yen'fay kept himself between her and the sea at all times. That was when Lissa remembered the gossip among the troops; that Walhart had a way of punishing insubordinates with permanent, ruthless solutions.
"He… He killed someone close to you, didn't he?" All the defiance left Lissa's voice, and she found herself sympathizing when Yen'fay gave a wince.
"…My sister." She thought he'd leave it at that, but something seemed to loosen in Yen'fay; like he'd never had the option to speak about this before.
"We defied him at first, refusing to surrender our lands and treasures… But that didn't last for long. And when the Conquerer came to our stronghold, my sister still defied him, and threw our heirloom into the sea. For that, he bound her legs with rope and irons, before throwing her over the side of his ship in turn. And all over the sake of a gemstone. She was worth far more than some emerald rock."
Lissa said nothing to that, turning instead to the prow of the ship.
She still half wanted to cast herself over, into the embrace of the waves… But she couldn't overlook how cold and stark they looked. The ocean was as gray and bleak as the clouds overhead, and no matter how she tried to tell herself that it would be alright… She couldn't escape the chill trying to settle into her bones.
-o-o-o-
Chrom stirred uneasily, still not used to the new cave walls; these were rougher than Say'ri's last hideout, and rubbed poorly at his skin and scales whenever he drifted into them.
The rebel leader had kept them moving through different hideouts; at first, Chrom thought moving in plain daylight was suicide… Until he realized Say'ri was moving them amongst shoals of fish. She had them all carefully shadowing the shoals across various hiding places, masking their movements from any other merfolk.
"Hard time sleeping?" Robin asked by his side; from the sound of it, she hadn't gotten much rest, either. Yet she also stayed close to him; it seemed like with each night, it was all the more vital they rested together.
"Yeah, I… I'm worried something happened, back at the fortress. I can't put into words what, but…" He frowned, struggling to find some way to describe his unease. "We keep getting thrown into those storms and lose track of everything else. And I know Walhart survived that as well…"
Chrom sighed out, the motion pushing him through the water and bumping against Robin.
'Henry and Tharja survived their attacks. We made it out okay… So why does everything still feel wrong? Why do I worry?'
"I also know we need to go take the fight to Walhart. Sooner, rather than later. I don't want to leave him with free reign of the seas."
"Well… We might be able to ask for some troops from Say'ri-" Robin offered.
"And I'd give them to you." Came Say'ri's voice, startling Chrom away from Robin. Say'ri had drifted into the cavern while they spoke, Emmeryn trailing close behind her.
"L-Lady Say'ri!" Robin said. "What brings you here-?"
"To speak of our plans. There's a reason I've put us on the move… And heading towards this Valm place. You're going to fight Walhart… And I'm coming with you." Say'ri was firm in her statement, almost daring Chrom or Robin to disagree with her.
"I… Why do you want that? Isn't your fight with Validar?" Robin said, only for Say'ri to shake her head.
"Perhaps… But there is something in me that… I feel Walhart and I have unsettled business." Chrom took in the scars crisscrossing Say'ri's fins, seemingly burned in there by ropes and bindings.
"I… Forgive me for prying, but what all do you remember? Of your own past, I mean?" Chrom forced himself to ask. Say'ri didn't answer at once, pressing him to continue. "Because I get the feeling you're like Emmeryn and me… Or at least, who I used to be. I only knew waking up in the middle of the ocean at first."
'To say nothing of Robin. Losing our memories has been a common trend.' His hand searching for Robin's weaving their fingers together even as Say'ri considered his words.
"You are… unnervingly on point, Sir Chrom." Say'ri admitted. She looked down at her own hands, looking doubtful about the webbing between her fingers. Almost like it didn't belong on her.
"And I admit, I have some hopes that confronting Walhart will help me remember."
"I… I wish to go with you, as well." Then it was Emmeryn's turn to find her voice… Though Chrom couldn't quite believe what he heard. Chrom stared at her in disbelief, so Emmeryn repeated herself. "I will… I wish to go with you. To help in your task."
"Emm-? Are you sure-?"
"Y…Yes." Even if her voice still wavered, Emmeryn looked Chrom straight in the eyes to prove her conviction. "I don't wish to fight if I have choice, but… I know I can."
Chrom nodded at that, and he remembered her magic being frightfully capable in a fight. It still seemed outside of her comfort zone, her hands and voice unused to shaping aggressive spells.
"Chrom, I'll save those important to me. Which… Which I feel that you are. As is… Y-Ylisse." She tried the name, and a ghost of a smile moved over her lips.
It threatened to crack at his own heart, hearing her say those words.
"You… Did do something similar, before." Chrom kept his voice low, but that apparently didn't prevent the ache from springing between her eyes. Emmeryn shook her head against the pain. Yet there was still a resolved light in her eyes.
"It feels like that. It also feels like fighting ill suits me… But neither can I float separate from all of this. So I vow you'll have my help… Until we've rid ourselves of all trouble."