Awakening: A Similar World, A Different Story
Chapter ~~~: Same Premonition, Different Ties
One would think, after having experienced it once before, he could've won the same fight, the same duel to the death, with great ease.
If anyone he knew would think just that, the young… well, he wasn't really that young anymore, man would urge them to correct that delusional thinking.
"HAAAAAGH!"
Chrom's first strike with Falchion missed its mark just barely upon its preemptive swing. Just as would've happened before. The Exalt and his greatest friend remained undeterred as he followed up with a reverse back-swing, clipping their foe by his robes and forcing the sorcerer to retreat further.
However, Validar was just as unperturbed. Standing his ground, he snapped open his tome.
Normally, a sorcerer fighting in melee would be considered foolish. But any who would underestimate the leader of the Grimleal would be even bigger fools.
Dark lightning enveloped the priest's hand. With an effortless wave of the spell, Chrom was pushed to the defensive as the magic burst forth, attempting to shock the Exalt of Ylisse to submission.
Any attempts at counterattack were halted as Validar advanced.
Accursed black thunder rained down on Chrom. It was only thanks to Falchion's holy blade blessed by Naga that the blighted spell didn't manage a single scratch on the man.
But he knew it would only be a matter of time until Validar's spell would run out. They both knew and aimed for that opening.
It came when Validar swapped thunder for a blast of dark magic. It wasn't a direct hit, but it did its job of creating distance. With Chrom pushed back, a giant ball of unholy flame formed above the sorcerer's head, threatening to come crashing down on his friend.
But Chrom was shrewd. Knowing that taking a step back, distancing himself from their foe further, would allow for the sorcerer more time to call upon more power, the man rolled forward the instant his boots found purchase on the stone floor. He immediately swung his blade—
"What the—?!" Only for the priest to vanish into a dark mist. Runic lights surrounded the place he last stood. "Up—?!"
It was then that his eyes shot upward to the sky. Up above, the sorcerer was readying yet another spell. But—
"THORON!"
"GAH!" Lightning struck the sorcerer's torso. Having appeared midair to avoid Chrom's retaliation, Validar had assumed him unseen and unnoticed.
But he was wrong.
He hadn't needed Chrom noticing to know where to aim. Having lived through and won this fight once before, he already knew where his father would appear, much to the priest's chagrin. Call it 'knowing a parent well', but Validar's hubris lay in the fact that he thought he knew the future down to the details.
The man stared scornfully back. He would see it that his 'father's' clairvoyance would be entirely wrong.
"Y-you—!" the man growled as he fell from the ceiling.
Vanishing once more in smoke and runes just before hitting the floor, he appeared behind Chrom.
"LEVIN!"
But another thunderbolt, this time sparking off of a magic blade the man held in his other hand, ensured Validar wouldn't be able to do anything but retreat once more.
"You—! Damn you!" Spitefully, Validar growled at him.
If looks could kill, he would've gone to hell a million times over long ago. For what else could the priest do but spite his existence for interfering in destiny. Again, twice over, three times and more. Though, that last fact would remain unknown to the sorcerer 'til his demise.
"You anomaly! You… aberration! You damnable pretender! I will see to it that you burn in Lord Grima's hellfire!"
Absent was the smugness. Gone was the composure and sinister patience. All that was left on his father's—, no. It would be a fallacy to further call him that as this man didn't birth him. Hell, the fact the man was confused when he first saw his face, a likeness to his child's own, proved the anomaly as he was being called.
"Such a threat is pointless to me," the man spat back with indifference. "Not after having faced your bastard god and winning once before."
The sorcerer's confusion was well-deserved. Validar did not—could not—know why he existed. The sorcerer supreme of the Grimleal, the high oracle that foresaw all through Grima's eyes, would never figure out why he was who he claimed to be, existing at the same time as his child.
But there was one thing he could be certain of.
Validar loathed him. On the face of the sorcerer was an expression crossed between aghast and that of pure hatred. His fingers clawed into his palms, drawing blood. His shoulders and back shuddered every time he breathed and growled like a beast.
Vile disgust seethed from his entire being as he tried staring down the man who defied Grima's foreseen destiny.
"You've interfered with the Grimleal for the last time!" the man spat at their feet.
"Nay, we will interfere forevermore! So long as peace demands it!" Chrom had recovered and now stood by his side, tensely waiting and ready for another trick or attack.
"As my Exalt says. We will never stop." But he, the man Validar, and no doubt Grima, hated with a vengeance, stood there calmly. "Give up, Validar. Your end is nigh."
The destiny the sorcerer sought would never come to pass. He'd made sure of it. From Emmeryn to Valm, from the summons to the Fire Emblem itself, he'd made doubly sure neither Grima nor Validar would ever gain the upper hand.
And, as he'd already purged himself of Grima's influence, he was most assured of victory here and now.
After all, if there was no one for Validar to manipulate, no one for him to turn into the Fel Dragon's vessel, then the damnable evil dragon wouldn't have a chance of victory. Not on this night. Not ever.
"I curse you!" the sorcerer growled. "For intervening over and over, I curse you! This is what you get for denying fate!" Sparks danced all along both of Validar's hands. He'd torn multiple pages out of both of his tomes, shredding them in an act of lunacy to wield as many spells as he could at them. "O, lord of the skies, consume my flesh, obliterate my bone! Let all know thy power, let all bow at thy feet before your throne! By Grima's curse, may the great dragon feast upon my soul! Take up arms against the sinner, consume me and eradicate them whole!"
Lightning crackled. Both light and dark. The mixed casting of magic was so powerful, both he and Chrom could sense it from where they stood.
It was no longer a normal spell. The elongated chant turned what would've been a powerful thunder spell into a hate-fueled curse intent on obliterating them both and everything it struck. Even if it cost Validar his very life.
'How pitiful of you, father,' he thought but didn't say aloud, for the man would not and will never be family in his eyes. 'To think you'd let your beliefs consume you so.'
The man stood before them was no longer human. He had long sold off his humanity the moment he decided to use his child as a tool for his god. And with said deity's plans thrown into ruin, there was nothing left for him.
He'd seen enough. He'd put an end to the man's misery. For all the people his actions caused grief. For all his friends he'd threatened and killed. For the mother he'd forgotten… who died burdened with fear and regret… unable to avert her child's fate.
And… most importantly… for her… the one who could've lived a life like any normal girl. Who could've grown up without the curse of being labeled a vessel… Who could've lived, loved, and smiled without a care in the world… had it not been for this man's—this bastard of a father's crimes!
The blighted magic coalesced into Validar's palms, ready to end their lives as well as that of their caster. "IGNORANT FOOLS! FOR YOUR INTERFERENCE, I DELIVER YOUR JUDGEMENT—!"
"Chrom!" He shouted over the dying sorcerer's voice, not even bothering to spare his old friend a glance. He knew well about the determined expression his liege already wore. "Let's end this! Together!"
"I wouldn't have it any other way!"
In that instant, they charged. Running, not away from death, but towards it. Validar's eyes, bloodshot and enraged, darted to either of them before finally settling on him. "DIE!"
He wouldn't give the man the pleasure.
Whipping out an ancient green tome, he quickly summoned a storm. Pink lights danced around his palm before climbing up his arm, like cherry blossoms frolicking in a tornado.
The moment the violent sparks left the sorcerer's bloody claw and flew straight for him, he quickly enunciated the chant-turned-name that belonged to an ancient princess of old.
"Carry me on thy blessing, howl thy defiance into the sky! Celica's Gale!"
Though weak in power than most, the spell's true strength came in the form of rapid consecutive casting. From a single chant, multiple bursts of wind relentlessly erupted from his hand towards wherever he aimed his palms at. And since wind magic, given enough power, shot out enough force to repel its caster backwards, he merely aimed it to his side.
His feet left the ground as he kicked off. Pumping as much power as he could into the runes enveloping him, he gracefully took off as the birds of his namesake. Narrowly, he avoided the eldritch blast of lighting by soaring high into the ceiling above.
"Heh, catch me if you can, Validar!" Not even hiding his mirth, he taunted his foe as he took flight.
"RAAAAAAGH!" Validar roared when the blast he fired missed.
Having nearly scorched his own arm off for nothing, the mad sorcerer tried to aim his other twitching arm up into the air above. The spell crackled and hissed, as did his skin that was burnt into a crisp. But Validar did not care. He didn't mind the pain it caused him.
So long as he could be rid of an eyesore, the interloper that ruined everything, then it would be worth the sacrifice of both limbs, bone and all!
"Not on my watch!"
"GAH!" The sorcerer cried out in shock.
Unbeknownst to Validar, Chrom had made for a furious dash straight at him. Distracted by the fury of his intervener getting away, he failed to notice until the last second that the Exalt aimed to slash off his arm.
"You're mine!"
And he did, cleanly. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH—!"
Amidst the crazed howl, Validar's hand harmlessly splashed into the puddle of blood pooling beneath him. Blinding purple electricity dissipated into embers before the dismembered limb caught fire, burning the decapitated arm to cinders.
"DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ALL—!" With his dying will, the tome of Grima's Truth immediately burst into flames as well, instantly enveloping his entire form with the unholy fiery magic. Even in that state, he still had the lungs to cry murder. "This isn't the end! THIS ISN'T OVER—!"
"No," said Chrom as he readied Falchion by his face. "You're already—!"
"FINISHED!"
As the former prince thrust Falchion into the priest's heart, so too did the flying tactician fall from the heavens to sink his own zigzagged magic blade into Validar's head.
The holy sword, infused with the power of Naga, tore through the man's chest. A fully-charged and thunder-element-imbued blade fried his brain, right between his manic and frenzied eyes. As soon as both made contact, they destroyed the respective organs they struck, thus instantly ending the sorcerer that had been their bane since time immemorial.
But it also sent his already out-of-control magic into a violent spasm.
"Dammit!—" "Kuh! Chro—!"
BOOM
The resulting explosion immediately rent their hearing asunder, blasting both men back several meters. Thuds followed the craters they left in the flooring. Groaning, their attention flitted to their foe.
As they took in the pain, the standing corpse of the great mastermind spewed flames from every orifice on his body. Even his blood was ignited, like oil for the inferno. Validar stood there like an effigy from hell, unmoving as his flesh melted to ash. And all they could do was watch.
"Is it… over?" Chrom, the first to recover, asked. When Validar's corpse didn't move or make a sound apart from crackling cinders, the answer was clear.
"Ha… Hahaha…" Relief washed over the tactician as he nodded to his friend. Pained tears escaped his eyes. "It's done… Hahaha… He's finished…"
They were the victors. They'd won. It was all over. And this time, no one had to die or be possessed. Not Chrom. Not him. And, most assuredly of all, not her.
Ah, he could just picture it now. Anger for taking her place. Deserved fury for doing the deed she believed she should've done. That certain someone was guaranteed to scold their reckless behavior, his suicidal plan.
But… it didn't matter at all to him. So long as she was safe, he didn't care if she hated him for it.
She didn't deserve to stain her hands in her father's blood any more than he did intervening in the matter. It was all just because she made herself think it was her destiny to do so. Her fate.
'Heh. Well fate can eat shit!' he nearly coughed in pain for chortling on the floor. Having to plunge his sword so close to dark magic, devoid of any divine protection as well, it stung a little to get blasted head-on. "Ngh…"
But it was all worth it. This fight was done. This war… was all over…
"Hey. You alright?"
Chrom's handsome smile was a relieving thing to see. Not just because it meant he was alive, but because there was no way he would be made to hurt his friend.
"Yeah… Heheh… I feel great!" He couldn't help but smirk at the man though. "Although, if you could convince her not to kill me when we get back, then… maybe I'd feel even better."
"Can't make any promises… Heh…"
"… Agh… Jerk…"
"You brought this on yourself… Didn't you say so earlier?"
"… Come now… Don't tell me… despite being her Exalt, you let her wear the pants in your romance?"
The royal shook his head at the jest. He knew by now that the joke was because of the dire situation they just pulled through. Not paying it any heed, a hand was offered to him.
"It's finally over… Couldn't have done it without you… my friend," grasping it, he heaved a sigh at the familiar exchange before lifting himself up. There was no urge to kill him. No sudden spark in his fingertips. No curse flying there way either. All was well. "Come on. The others are waiting for us."
"Yeah…" a smile that reached his eyes finally graced his tired face. "Let's go—NGH!"
"Hey!" Chrom tried to have him lean on his shoulder. But with how weak his legs were, his friend was forced to lower them both to the floor on a knee each. His sword clattered a short distance away when he struck the floor. "You okay? What's wrong?"
"I'm fine…" Testing the leg, he found that he might've sprained his ankle. It must've been the fall he took after getting hit by that blast. He had been in the air after all, so a rough landing could've done it in. This, he shared to his liege who wore a concerned look. He shot back his own cheeky smile. "It'll be fine. Can't run for a damn, but… at least we don't need to rush anymore, now do we?"
"Heh. I suppose not…" the former prince returned a sigh. "The others will likely have it all handled by the time we get to them…"
Giving their backs one more glance, Chrom affirmed that they were indeed alone. They could still see the others struggling against Risen on the other side of the hall, just across from the now-fading magical barrier. But they were already beating back the horde with renewed vigor.
More than a dozen or so of the Risen were already dissipating even before they were cut down. A testament to the end of their summoner who was now but a pile of ash on the floor.
Hefted along by his best friend's shoulder, the tactician watched as the rest of their comrades won decisively.
They'd all gotten through this fight, together and alive. All of them… Not a single one was lost.
No future would end up a barren wasteland beyond this day. No children would ever grow up without their parents and need to come to the past to rectify it.
Not this time. Not ever again…
Such a thought… it brought a sad smile on the man's face. 'But better seeing them in a few years' time than tomorrow with even grimmer news… Heh…'
Victory… true victory… was a bit difficult to swallow. But with all his bases covered, all their foes gone and defeated, there wasn't a problem in sight. Nothing he couldn't have handled in his time anyways.
As Chrom assisted him up, they both limped back to their friends. Their family—
"… YOU… FOOLISH MORTAL!" His blood chilled. A voice that seemed to emanate from all over echoed down the hall.
"Validar?! He survived?!"
Chrom unsheathed Falchion as he searched for the source. But the tactician knew his friend's sword would do no good with the blade as it was.
"No… This voice… it isn't Validar!" He recognized it almost immediately. Not from its tone or subtle intonation. But for the fact that its words carried power. Power found only in a deity. Be they a divine being… or an evil dragon. "Grima!"
"HAHAHAHA… SO, YOU KNOW WHO I AM, FORMER SPAWN!" He more than knew him. Grima recognized him! The cackling continued to echo. Through the halls, in their heads, beyond the tower, all could hear the voice of the Fel Dragon. "YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD STOP ME! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD AVERT ME!"
He had. But though Validar was dead, though he made sure to keep her far away from here as possible, to avoid another vessel being taken over, it seemed to be all for naught.
"YOU… THOUGHT WRONG… … FAILED VESSEL."
The voice had suddenly gotten closer. Dangerously so. A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision—the side opposite Chrom!
"OY! What are you doing?! GAH—!" Realizing where it would come, he pushed his friend aside with a kick, forcing him as far away as possible. In the process of doing so, the weight on his injured leg stunned him, causing him to fall to the floor like the Exalt.
Unfortunately, he fell closer to something that crashed heavily and sunk its claws into the stone floor. Looking up, what he saw towered over him.
It wasn't of same scale, but he'd recognized it anywhere. The stench of death. The fear-inducing aura it exuded by merely breathing. Six crimson eyes reminiscent of the brand absent on the back of his hand all blinked as they met his own tiny pair.
It was ghostly as an apparition yet still carried a presence that could weigh down the skies and mountains. Nothing more than a phantom apparition compared to that which he'd once helped to slay, but he felt the power behind it. He recognize his demonic ancestor anywhere.
"Heheheh… Amusing… You show no fear, despite knowing of my power… And yet, the stench of dread hangs over you." The eyes blinked at differing intervals before each, one by one, snapped to gaze down on him. "You claim victory but forget, I AM ETERNAL!"
"THORON!"
A blast of magic crashed against the dragon's face. Grima didn't so much as flinch.
"… You… would continue to struggle…?"
Unperturbed by the unamused comment, he got up and kicked off the ground. His ankle was in pain, but with his other leg, he pushed himself as far as he could.
All to grasp his sword.
The one-handed weapon's grip slid into his fingers. Likewise, the last remains of magic from within his body slipped through the wooden hilt and into its metal spine. Taking aim, he cried out the weapon's magic chant.
"LEVIN!"
Lightning flashed outside the great hall's open windows. A stream of energy bolted down from the heavens, seeking his blade. Once it struck, the magically-imbued sword thrummed with energy.
'This should do it!' he prayed. 'This will do it! This will…'
An image flashed into his mind as he lied to himself. A memory. One where he saw everyone. His friends, the Shepherds. Even their children from the future was there. All together with their families.
His family. Even if they weren't by blood.
Only, now, there were a couple of new faces amongst that crowd. The most notable was one that resembled his own. Her long hair, tied on either side of her head as it drooped down her shoulders. That cheery, knowing smile, one that both blessed and tormented him to this day. Her clear amber eyes that resembled his own but was less jaded and seemed to look hopeful, as if they saw a brighter future.
She wouldn't be forgotten. He'd never forget her.
He'd always protect her for she deserved nothing but the best.
Though he was not the one to wrong her, as someone who knew of her would-be destiny far better than many of their comrades did, he saw it as his job to reject it all for her. To deny the pain he'd once endured, to prevent the losses he suffered…
He'd never let her go through what he did. Not now, not ever. And that was a promise.
"Ngh! Don't—!" A glance to the side, and he saw Chrom struggling to get up as well. Eyes pleading, his oldest friend, not in this world, but in his previous, cried out. "Don't do it!"
'It's alright,' his mouth didn't say. It couldn't when fear had already overtaken his very being. Closing his eyes, he imparted a silent apology. It seems… he wouldn't be able to make it back after all. Not to his old family. Nor to his new one here.
Releasing the breath he held, he opened his eyes. There was only one thing he had to say as he swung his sword down. Lightning cracked alongside his bloodcurdling cry. "GRIMAAAAAAAAA—!"
"Hmph… Pitiful struggle…"
Not even reacting, an invisible shockwave emanated from the dragon and struck him. Its impact rocked him to his core, sending him flying back, dragged against and tearing through the stone floor.
"NO!"
Chrom's cries of protest were insignificant. The blast of power was so strong, it caused cracks along every wall in the great cathedral they were in. Strong enough that, for a brief moment, all sound, all the air within him, was knocked out of his very being.
His back sunk into the hard stone. The tactician was graced with a view of the only thing that remained untouched. The ceiling. His sword skittered to the side as blood sprayed out of his mouth accompanying a rough cough.
His ears rung. It felt a little wet too. Unlikely to be sweat. From the corner of his periphery, he could see Chrom. He was shouting something. Likely his name. But it was useless. He couldn't move. Neither of them could.
"I am beyond blades and magic… You know this well, my spawn. I see it in your eyes!"
The words rumbled in his head. Despite his hearing somewhat returning, the dragon's mockery remained as clear as day. But he was frozen stiff, held down by the sheer pressure of Grima's magic as the evil god himself hovered over his form. He could do naught but struggle under the dragon's derisive six-eyed gaze.
"Humanity struggled… The WORLD struggled… against my might! You may have slain a GRIMA in your realm once before… but without my BLOOD, my POWER, an insignificant thing such as YOU could never hope to challenge ME!"
Yeah. He knew that. He should've known from the start. The moment he'd arrived in this world, the moment he realized he no longer had the blessing, or curse, of his ancestor, he knew he was nothing but an ordinary man. No more, no less.
He could do nothing as the Fel Dragon taunted him.
"Wallow in despair, failure of a vessel, for the world you love will know terror! It will know destruction! IT SHALL KNOW GRIMAAAAAAAAAAA!"
A deafening roar rattled his skull yet again. It silenced all other sounds. So much so that he could only hear his heartbeat. The demonic phantom approached him, readying to consume him in its last act of mercy.
"You shall never… claim VICTORY! THE FUTURE… HAS ALWAYS BEEN… IN MY HANDS—!"
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
His eyes darted over the dragon's shoulder. Out the highest window, dashing in from the cloudy sky, a lone figure mounted atop a pegasus cried. The one person he didn't want to be here waved a jagged magic sword similar to his own in the air above her head.
"No…" he prayed to Naga it was a lie. "No!"
"LEVIN!" the golden blade absorbed crackling golden energy from the storm clouds above. Like a blade blessed by the divine, it shone brightly as her ride ascended even higher, reaching the ceiling directly above them. Above him.
"Please don't…" He'd told her not to come here! He'd made sure she could never… Why…? Why… was she so stubborn?! Why did she have to disobey him?! "Please! DON'T DO IT!"
She remained steadfast and leapt off her mount. Blade in hand, she dove at the Fel Dragon. "DIE, GRIMA!"
"HEHEHEH…!" Responding in kind, the deity flew at her in the sky. "THERE YOU ARE, MY VESSEL!"
"ROBIN, NO!" All he could do… was cry out.
CRASH
Lightning cracked as the thunder blasted the entire hall asunder. A swing of her blade had blinded the whole world with golden light. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. But he could feel the air around him.
The quaking, the clashing of magical energy, the rupturing of space itself.
And then… nothing.
All had gone quiet. All was eerily silent.
Slowly but surely, the light faded. It took a while, but after regaining his vision, so too did his hearing return. Snapping out of his frozen state, he glanced around.
Grima was nowhere to be seen.
Chrom was struggling to the side. Having witnessed the same clash as he had, the man was also blinded. He struggled on the ground, using Falchion as a support.
But it was the body lying on the other side of the hall that had him stopping short of helping his friend out.
There, in a crater likely made by her fall, half-sunk a puddle of her own blood, she lay. Motionless. Still.
Like a corpse.
He took a step towards her.
He took another.
The next step turned into a jog.
The jogging turned into a mad dash.
"No. No! NO! NOOOO!"
Dropping to his knees as soon as he got to her, he pulled her up in his arms. A glance over her chest, nothing. Sticking his head as close to her heart as he could get, still nothing. No movement, no sound. Not a single sign of life.
"No…" he cried as he shook her in his arms. Mind racing, all he could think to do was call out. Call out and hope against hope that she… that Robin would hear his voice. "Don't do this to me… Don't you dare do this to me! Don't die on me, dammit! Didn't you swear you'd live through this—?!"
Her eyes snapped open. A perplexed look marred her beautiful face.
"Robin? Robin! Hey! It's me!" Surprised, he could only cry.
For a brief moment, his mind blanked.
For a brief moment, all he could feel was relief.
Relief in that she survived. That she lived.
SHILCK
That moment passed when he felt something warm gushing down his side.
A glance down, and he saw it. Her hand, the one that once held his own, gently, kindly, had pierced his flesh. Like a knife cutting into butter, her fingers had easily slid into his side and tore into him. Blood and gore, all blackened and messy, spilled out when she quickly retracted it. He fell back into the pool as his blood mixed with hers. Once fallen, it was then he saw the dark glow.
The mark of the Fel Dragon glowed an evil violet light on the back of her hand. Far more alive than it had ever been on his, the unholy brand emanated with power that could only belong to their only true common ancestor.
He'd failed to remember. Despite all his years, his experience in the field, despite knowing the predicament they were all in, knowing she wasn't him even if they originally shared the same name, he'd forgotten something very important.
She wasn't just a child he came to love. She wasn't just Robin.
She was still the spawn of the Fel Dragon. She was still a vessel… a tool for Grima to walk the earth.
And though he'd vowed to save her… there was no way he could, seeing as he wasn't even meant to exist by her side.
"Agh!" he grunted in pain. He teared up with regret. And, as she stood up to tower over his weakened form, he now noticed them.
Her eyes… they were no longer the clear warm amber akin to his own.
They were red. As crimson as blood. Menacing and smug, vile and cruel. Through her eyes, the evil dragon stared him down.
But there was still a faint light in her orbs. There was still life in them. And it wasn't the creature he tried and failed to defeat on his own.
The gleam of a tear streaked down her cheek.
"It's not… your fault." He could see her within. Ignoring the being that took control, he saw her for what she was. A little girl held captive, afraid and trapped behind her… behind their ancestor's control. "It's not… your fault."
She could hear him. He hoped she did at least. He knew the one thing he didn't want was for the girl to blame herself. For disobeying him. For hurting him. It would only serve to feed the dragon what he wants.
Her fear. Her anger.
Her despair.
Even as he coughed blood and bled guts, he tried his damned best to convey his forgiveness.
'If she could fight it… If she could resist it, then there's… there's a—!' His train of thought slowed. "Huh…?"
THUD
His head had fallen back. Light-headedness was settling in. The blood was escaping him too fast, as was the air he'd breathed. He didn't even notice he was now lying face up with a blank stare. That is, until she entered his periphery and stared down on his unmoving form.
Even more tears spilled from her crimson orbs. Although the face, Grima's face, made to smile a devilishly wide grin. "Despair, my failed vessel. For I… have won…"
It… disgusted him. For Grima to use her voice like that.
But there was nothing he could do. His vision, his hearing, everything… started to grow hazy.
Soon, his sense of touch was gone. He couldn't even smell the acrid scent of burnt corpses or the metallic tinge of blood anymore.
It was all fading to the darkness.
A darkness akin to the one he'd awoken from on that day.
On that day… when they first met…
Sooooooo… 'What the hell is this?' many of you may ask.
This is a one-shot I've been trying to hold back on but couldn't restrain myself from doing.
I know, I know. 'Why the hell are you doing a new one instead of updating the current ones?' a few of you who read my other works may grumble.
Work and IRL got to me and I needed a safe space to chill and forget everything. Considering the other works are undergoing revisions, I didn't need more headaches of correcting myself when I'm at my worst yet. Also, the monsoon season cut off my internet for a time so all I had was offline games and an old 3DS.
For what it's worth, having had a go at my old game got the nostalgia taking over. I just had to write one for Awakening, considering the impact this game's had on me and the FE community as a whole.
And besides, why shouldn't I do a little something for a game I long since loved but never got a chance to share my appreciation for…?
.
.
.
Yes. I'm procrastinating. No. It was not my intent to procrastinate from my other works.
Anyways, hope ya'll enjoyed this. I left our favorite tactician's name, well the dude one anyway, unnamed as I may or may not have plans to make this another series. (*Proceeds to shoot myself in the foot for a second and third time.*) Also, it's just the premonition bit so I can summarize it as generally for a maybe-future plot for the actual story. Meh, I'll get to that when I actually do it.
Alright. That's it for today. Peace.
Bye! Have a great time! XD
—ReavesTheReader—