SONG LIST(For those that play the recommended music with the fanfic)

- "Shh... Easy now, girl. I won't hurt you" [Fire Emblem Awakening OST]

- Lapis Philosophorum -Chant- [Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood OST]

- Temple of Time [Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild OST]


DISCLAIMER: HELLSING IS OWNED BY KOUTA HIRANO. I DO NOT ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.

FIRE EMBLEM IS OWNED BY NINTENDO. I DON'T OWN IT'S CHARACTERS EITHER.

ITALICS=THOUGHTS, WRITING, AND SOUNDS

BOLD= DATES, PLACES, ECT.

BOLD ITALICS=WRITER


Ylisstol, Ylisse ~ Royal Palace
October 28, Age 2609 (5:50 A.M)

Time…

…it was time…

Walter stared blankly at the ceiling of his room. A week of preparations had come and gone like the wind, and Ylisse…

…no…

…not Ylisse…

…him…

…he was out of time.

He couldn't misconstrue what was occurring—why he was so desperate to finish the conflict with Plegia within a week's time frame. If he died before Gangrel was killed, then all would be lost. There'd be nothing—no one at all—strong enough to oppose the Mad King. The only one that truly stood between Gangrel and total annihilation was him.

A comforting thought… Walter sighed. All he could do was pray that everything go according to plan.

Their forces would march north to Regna Ferox today. They'd meet up with the Feroxi military and proceed to Plegia's northern border. While they marched south to the Border Wastes, the bulk of Plegia's forces would continue to pummel the eastern Border Pass between Ylisse and Plegia. They'd bait Gangrel's forces away from Ylisse, and towards Regna Ferox—giving those defending the Border Pass a much-needed reprieve.

Enter phase two: they'd make it known that Emmeryn was amongst the forces at the Border Wastes—the Fire Emblem in her possession. Using her as bait, they'd lure Gangrel out into the open. Utilizing what blessed weapons they had, they would attack Gangrel with all their might. If all went well—and Gangrel was defeated—that would destroy the ghouls instantaneously, removing the bulk of Plegia's military might. After the vampire's defeat, it was likely that Plegia would surrender; from there they'd be forced to pay reparations, and a ruler that would promote unity with Ferox and Ylisse would be placed in charge of the desert country.

Easier said than done. Walter constantly reminded himself. The plan all hinged on Gangrel taking the bait, and the risk that he didn't was large enough to be of concern. Playing to Gangrel's psychopathic desires was all they could do at this point.

Walter sat up from his bed and positioned himself at its edge. He ran his hands across his face as he let out a deep breath before standing up. As much as he wanted to stay in bed, there were a couple of things he needed to take care of before the march began.

Getting dressed—putting on his all black ensemble—Walter was about to leave his room when he recalled that he was very much lacking something. The butler glanced over to the desk against the wall. Silently, the butler moved to the desk and slid open the drawer. Lying inside, exactly where he left them, were his fingerless monofilament gloves; the last pair he had.

Pocketing them for what would undoubtedly be their final use, Walter let out a sigh as he promptly left his room and began descending the palace floors. Exiting the palace into the cool hours before the dawn, Walter made his way from the palace to the Shepherds' Garrison. Although most of the Shepherds were likely still asleep at this hour, he needed to see one in particular immediately.

Quietly entering the garrison, Walter wandered through the building and towards the individual sleeping quarters. He kept going until he came to the room he was looking for. Swallowing his apprehension, the butler raised his hand to knock on the door.

"Just come in, I already know you're there…" a dreary voice called out from inside.

Walter stopped his hand short and shrugged. Grabbing the doorknob, he silently opened the door.

"Make sure you lock the door behind you…"

Walter nodded as he entered before doing what he was told; closing the door as quietly as possible.

"Tharja…" Walter addressed the room's occupant.

"Walter…" Tharja sat at a desk—whose surface was covered with stacks upon stacks of tomes, grimoires, and lexicons—cross-legged, and watching him with predatory eyes.

"You couldn't even wait for the sun to come up to see me…" Tharja smiled darkly. "I'm so flattered…"

"I bet you are…" Walter replied coolly. "Alas, as much as I'd love to sit here and talk, we've business to attend to." Tharja pouted playfully.

"Oh… and here I was hoping to do more than talk…" Tharja's sly smirk and aside glance made Walter's spine shiver. He immediately swallowed his distaste for the harpy; if only for a brief period.

Removing the glove from his right hand, the butler turned it over to show the dark mage the sealing sigil.

"Tell me what you can about the seal, and what can be done to stop it from killing me." Walter said, practically demanding. Tharja seemed unperturbed, as she simply stared at the sigil with her dark eyes.

"Come closer," Tharja asked, her usual playfully creepy demeanor melting away. Walter obliged, and stepped towards her. The mage took his hand into her own and ran her hand along it's back.

"This is going to be a rush job, seeing as how you've only now gotten around to seeing me…" Tharja muttered. Walter shrugged.

"I've been busy."

"Too busy to care for yourself…" Tharja rolled her eyes. "For someone dying from a botched seal, you're surprisingly lax with dealing with it."

"For someone so openly promiscuous, you're surprisingly serious when it comes to the occult," Walter countered. Tharja let out—probably for the first time to Walter's knowledge—a genuine chuckle.

"Dark magic is volatile; those that don't exercise caution when experimenting with it are the ones who end up dead," the pale woman stated. "As is probably the case for the one who placed this seal on you." Walter raised a brow.

"How can you tell?"

"The amateurish design for one thing…" Tharja replied spitefully. "That tells me two things: either this was designed by someone who only had a shallow understanding of seals, or they were in such a rush to put a seal on you that they neglected to make it a quality one. Of course, there is a third possibility, although I doubt you'll like it…" she trailed off.

"And that is…?" Walter asked expectantly. Tharja shook her head.

"The seal was made badly on purpose for the sake of forcing you to release it."

Walter froze up.

"Most seals have an outside trigger for an unlocking method; someone else's life, for example. Your seal is unique in that YOU are that trigger. You could unlock it anytime you wished, you'd just have to utter a chant with the intention of releasing it." Tharja explained. "Think about what this seal is doing to you; it's killing you for the sake of keeping itself up, but made in a way that just enough of that dark power in you can seep through and heal the damage done. If you ask me, I'd say that you were given this botched seal on purpose."

Walter's shoulders slumped. He was given a botched seal on purpose?

"Can you make a new seal; one that'll adequately contain the vampirism?" Walter asked, hopeful.

"No, that's outside of my power." Tharja replied honestly, looking sympathetic towards him. "For one, you'd have to release the seal first; two seals can't be placed on top of the other. Secondly, with the seal released, I wouldn't be able to contain that dark power of yours even if I wanted to. I'm simply not strong enough to do so."

"Surely there's-"

"No," Tharja stopped Walter. "If there ever was someone strong enough to make a seal on that power of yours, they'd be something akin to a god."

Instantly, Walter felt all his hope diminish. There was no stopping it. He was going to die.

You could release the seal… a voice in his head said. It wasn't the first time he heard that murmurous temptation; it had been plaguing him all week.

Release the seal… every time it told him to release the seal, it became clear that it wasn't his voice.

I won't release the seal, he mentally replied to the voice. That power deserves to be buried with me…

When the voice didn't respond, Walter let out a sigh. Taking his hand, he slipped it back into his glove.

"You're going to die if you don't release that seal," Tharja said, her tone almost sympathetic. Walter regarded her for a moment before turning towards the door.

"Then die I shall…" he replied evenly. He heard Tharja scoff as he began to leave.

"If that's what you want…" she muttered.

Ignoring the dark mage, he promptly exited the room. Closing the door behind him, Walter raised a hand to his chin. Head dipping downward, the butler considered his next move.

You have to tell her… Walter thought to himself.

With a sigh, Walter lowered his hand and began to make his way back to the palace. He knew for a fact that he had a difficult conversation ahead of him.


Ylisstol, Ylisse ~ Royal Palace
October 28, Age 2609 (6:45 A.M.)

Lucina had long come to the conclusion that her life was a terrible one. She'd been dealt some fairly terrible hands throughout her admittedly short life, but this only served to bolster her appreciation for the very few good ones she had. She could've been born to a broken family with an alcoholic father and an overly promiscuous mother, but she wasn't. She could've been without friends throughout her childhood, and throughout her teenage years, but she wasn't. For these few blessings, she was grateful to Naga.

However, all good things must come to an end and that was fact. She'd grown so accustomed to loss that she warranted that she could be called an expert in that field. When she first came to this time period, Lucina assumed that facet of her would remain unchanged no matter what. She could've never foreseen that she'd grow so attached to another person that she'd be unwilling to put anything else before them, nor did she expect to ever feel the fear of loss so excessively then she did at this very moment.

"Walter, I understand that humor is not my strongest suit, but I find this joke to be rather cruel…" Lucina muttered, fist balled up stiffly at her sides. Walter sighed.

"It's not a joke, Lucina; there really isn't any way out for me." the butler reiterated what he said to her seconds earlier.

Lucina had been having a rather pleasant week all things considered. While most of her time was spent aiding in the preparations for the march against Plegia, that only meant she was able to spend time with Walter. They were discreet with their intimacy—putting on masks of professionalism when in public—but every second they spent alone was time spent in bliss. The ecstasy she felt with every minute thing she did with Walter undid every lifetimes worth of pain she'd been through.

However, she knew that Walter was dying. Walter made it woefully clear that if she let herself love him tragedy was what waited her. Still, she chose to indulge in her feelings for him, and now was the time to face the reality.

Standing up from her bedside, Lucina approached Walter and took his hands into her own.

"Alright… so you can't stop it. You also said that you refuse to release the seal, and I respect that decision…" Lucina swallowed, giving the butler's hands a small squeeze. "But…" she took a deep breath. Lucina, for all her strength, was finding Walter to be a rather decisive weak point for her.

"This upcoming battle against Plegia… no… against Gangrel," Lucina stared into Walter's dulled eyes. "…you plan on facing him head on, don't you?" Walter glanced away from her.

"Yes, I do," the butler admitted. "I plan on confronting him as soon as he appears on the battlefield, and I will do so alone." Lucina flinched.

"I was afraid you were going to say that…" she let out a nervous breath. Shaking her head disapprovingly, Lucina stared at Walter determinedly.

"Walter, I'm not letting you fight Gangrel alone." Lucina kept her tone even, not showing even the faintest trace of insecurity. "Honestly, I'd much rather you sit this one out in its entirety, but I know for a fact that I'd never be able to convince you to do so. Still, if I cannot convince you not to fight, I'll stand beside you instead."

"No," Walter said sternly. "Gangrel would slaughter you. If it was anyone else, I'd let you stand beside me in a heartbeat." Lucina frowned.

"Walter, if you face Gangrel alone you'll die; you've admitted to me that you're not certain you can even defeat him." Lucina countered, her tone growing slightly more aggressive. "If we fight him together—you, father, and I—we may stand a chance."

"And risk losing both you and Chrom? I'd sooner have you drive Falchion through me than let that happen." Walter said, horrified that she'd even suggest such a thing. Lucina felt her composure wane.

"You're going to get yourself killed, Walter!" she growled. Walter nodded despondently.

"If it's any consolation, I'm taking Gangrel with me," the butler said, his smirk melancholic. "With both Gangrel and I gone, the only traces of vampirism will be wiped from the face of Ylisse. If my death will bring about the destruction of all monsters in this world, then I'll gladly die a thousand times over."

"You and Gangrel aren't the only monsters in this world, Walter." Lucina's hands shot up to her mouth, realizing her mistake.

"'You and Gangrel', huh…?" Walter sighed. Lucina shook her head.

"N-no, I didn't mean it like-"

"I know, I know…" Walter closed his eyes. "Still, it doesn't change the fact that the circumstances surrounding what occurred in your future have drastically diverged thanks to our efforts. If you ask me, Gangrel is the last obstacle standing between Ylisse and peace in our times."

"You can't be certain of that fact, Walter." Lucina argued. "There is still a chance that time will favor it's original course. What happens if you're wrong about this? What happens if all we're doing is shuffling the board? If you're gone, what will stand in the way of Grima?" Walter stared at Lucina.

"Lucina, this time will still have you." Walter lifted his hand to her cheek. "You and your allies—when you finally locate them—will be adequate enough to keep everything the way they are. You don't need me." Lucina felt her throat go dry.

"No, you're wrong…" she murmured sadly. "I do need you…" the princess admitted.

"If we'd never had met the night I arrived, if I'd never trusted you, I don't think I'd have gotten as far as we have." Lucina shuddered. "The fact of the matter is, you're the reason why this time has strayed so far from it's original course; I warrant that you'd have saved Emmeryn and my father even without my foreknowledge."

"Don't under sell your importance, Lucina." Walter sighed. "If it weren't for you, I'd probably be dead in that godforsaken cell you found me in…" the butler swallowed nervously at the thought.

"I know for a fact that you'll be fine without me, that's how much I trust you." Walter continued. "If all goes well, you'll not ever have to worry about Grima ever again: I promise you."

Lucina was despondent for a while, silently standing in front of the butler—allowing him to soothingly caress her cheek. Was it really that simple? Was Gangrel really the last loose end they had to tie? Lucina didn't know. All she knew was that she truly wished she could just stand in that very spot with Walter forever.

Meekly, Lucina leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Walter, pulling him into an amorous embrace. Walter returned the favor, Lucina feeling his strong arms against her back. The moment the embrace ended things were going to change. They were on the precipice of history; their choices would affect the outcome of the world.

Lucina was afraid of what was to come, and unbeknownst to her…

…so was Walter.


Ylisstol, Ylisse
October 28, Age 2609 (10:00 A.M.)

Apprehension…

Apprehension was the only word that could describe what Chrom was feeling standing beside his sister as she prepared to address not just Ylisse's army, but all her people. To his sides were Frederick and Walter—if either were nervous about what was to come it didn't show—both standing dutifully beside their lord, hands behind their backs. Captain Phila stood beside Emmeryn, opposite to him in fact, and she too sported a calm expression.

Below them, standing crowded, were the people of Ylisstol; Chrom had little to no doubt that the entire city had stopped what they were doing to bear witness to what could be Emmeryn's final address. In fact, people from all over Ylisse had gathered at the capital to see their Exalt off; knowing full well that the battle that lay ahead for them would finally put an end to a war that the last generation sparked.

"People of Ylisse," Emmeryn began, and all murmurs—all conversation—ceased instantaneously. "For as long as I have been Exalt, I have vied for nothing less than peace in our times; that Ylisse would never again enter bloody conflict with her neighbor: Plegia." Emmeryn's expression hardened slightly, her usual serene look replaced.

"Many of you would see the mobilization of our armies against Plegia as a betrayal of that peace that I vowed to create. I know that there are certainly those among you that see this as nothing more than a repetition of what my father—our previous Exalt—began; or perhaps you see it as ending that which he began. Know this—I do not mobilize our army lightly." Emmeryn paused briefly, clasping her hands over her chest. "Many of you grew up in a broken Ylisse, parents forced to take to the battlefield for a meaningless crusade. Know that my heart weeps that it has come to this; that I must ask you to join me as we march into Plegia, as our fathers did before us. That we must take up arms and once again enter our neighboring country."

Emmeryn closed her eyes. Chrom watched his sister; though her eyes closed, the maelstrom of emotions she felt evident. It was wrong, his sister—inarguably the one who wished for peace the most—was mobilizing an army. However, there was nothing else that could be done; Gangrel had forced their hand.

"However…" Emmeryn suddenly spoke up again, though her eyes were still closed and hands still over her heart. "Let us not forget the circumstances that have led us to this moment. Though we take up arms now—just as the previous generation—we do not take them up out of a misplaced sense of justice. We do not move to slaughter the innocents. We are not fighting to take vengeance either—revenge is not my intention today. My intentions, I pray to Naga that you all feel the same, is still the same as they were yesterday: for peace!"

Emmeryn raising her voice startled Chrom slightly, and evidently the crowd as well. If Emmeryn didn't have their attention before, she certainly had it now.

"I have attempted so many times to reason with Gangrel," Emmeryn's eyes were opened, her gaze a bittersweet frown. "Many times in the past I have tolerated his violence; turned my cheek when struck. Even now, if the end of this war called for my death, I would gladly lay down my life if it meant placating him; that way no one else would have to die for my sake. However, as Gangrel is now, he will see no reason. He will burn all of Ylisse; no… the entire continent to the ground. So now Ylisse must stand against this tyrant; for the peace that I—that we—so desire cannot be had so long as Gangrel is free." Emmeryn lowered her hands, reaching briefly beneath her robe for something. To the awe of many in the crowd, the Exalt pulled out the Fire Emblem.

"The Fire Emblem: the symbol of the steadfast standing against evil. I take the Fire Emblem with me as a symbol of Ylisse! I beg you, rally behind me as we repel this evil! Let us unite, not for the sake of ourselves, but for the sake of instilling peace; not just in our times, but for the rest of time!"

As Emmeryn held the Fire Emblem aloft, cheers erupted from the crowd; morale heightened to its peak. As Chrom watched Emmeryn from where he stood, he couldn't help but feel his apprehension waning. Fear was replaced by determination as he instinctively ran his hand down the hilt of the Falchion. Yes, he would be sure that the peace that not just his sister, but his people desired would be granted.

Even if he had to run Gangrel through himself.


Northern Ylisse - The Northroad
October 28, Age 2609 (1:23 A.M.)

After nearly three consecutive hours of marching, the Ylissean League finally came to a halt just as they began to near Feroxi territory. Their army, which was comprised of two main divisions—infantry and calvary—combined with the Shepherds and Pegasus Knights. They had an equal amount of mages and archers to provide covering fire intermixed with the main units. Overall, their fighting force numbered in the thousands; a number that would be nearly doubled once they met with Khans Basilio and Flavia at the Feroxi-Plegian border.

Lucina found herself at awe of the number of soldiers marching. While she knew that wars were fought with grand armies, she herself had never seen one in action. Despite being the Exalt in the future, and leader of the last bastion of hope for humanity, Lucina had scarce commanded numbers over ten thousand. To see Ylisse in it's prime, soldiers marching for battle was… awe inspiring to say the least. Wandering through the vast numbers of men and women who had trained for a moment such as this—a moment that would require all able-bodied people to rise up and defend their homeland—truly put things into perspective.

(Play song ~ "Shh... Easy now, girl. I won't hurt you" [Fire Emblem Awakening OST])

"Marth, I believe that's what everyone calls you, correct?"

Lucina turned and was shocked to come face to face with Emmeryn.

"That would be correct, your excellency." Lucina quickly hid her surprise and bowed her head slightly. Emmeryn smiled at the gesture.

"Such a polite one, but there's no need for that," Emmeryn laughed. "I am actually looking for someone to enjoy lunch with, and I thought I ought to request you join me."

Lucina raised her eyebrows. This was a surprise, a welcome at that. Given the unpleasant circumstances surrounding the Emmeryn of her future, Lucina had never gotten to know her eldest aunt. Outside of the stories her father and aunt Lissa would regale her with, she knew little to nothing of Emmeryn. Seeing this as an opportunity to rectify that, Lucina happily nodded.

"I'd be happy to join you, milady," she grinned. Emmeryn returned the smile.

"Come now, did I not say there's no need for that? Please, you can simply refer to me by name," the Exalt gestured Lucina to follow her.

Taking stride beside Emmeryn, Lucina was enthralled by the Exalt's demeanor. As they passed through crowd upon crowd of soldiers, she stopped to greet each and every one of them. What could've been a simple minute long walk from one side of the camp to the other became a long twenty minutes of Emmeryn stopping to check every soldier they passed by. By the time they reached the tent temporarily pitched up to accommodate Emmeryn while she ate, Lucina found her stomach growling—practically begging to be fed.

"You truly care for your people." Lucina stated as a matter of fact. Emmeryn nodded as she took a seat at the table at the center of the tent. Food was already present, two plates in fact; it seemed Emmeryn had food already prepared to accommodate her.

"I do," Emmeryn replied serenely. "Alas, it is but one of the sources for my staunch pacifism. In my lifetime, I wish for my people to live in peace."

"I can empathize…" Lucina admitted as she sat across from her aunt. "Wanting one's own people to be safe is what I assume all wise rulers desire." Emmeryn's lips curled upwards.

"Well, I suppose the need to help people is something innate to our family, don't you agree?" the Exalt grinned. Lucina felt her heart stop for a second.

"Innate to our family?" Lucina feigned ignorance. "I- I've no idea what-"

"No lies, I'd have hoped a member of my own family was taught to not tell lies." Emmeryn interrupted, chuckling. "It's not the most difficult of conclusions to come to. You bear blue hair, a trademark trait of those of the Exalted bloodline—although Lissa and I take after our mother in that we have golden hair, it is still a prominent trait within our family and only our family."

"I dyed my hair Ylissean royal blue, your Excellency." Lucina lied. "I did so merely to show my support towards your family." Emmeryn raised her eyebrows, amused.

"I suppose that is a likely explanation, however that does not explain how you are able to wield Falchion," the surprisingly wily Exalt pointed at said blade, which lay sheathed at Lucina's hip.

"Obviously not the real Falchion, milady," Lucina lied once more. "The true weapon is wielded by your brother, Prince Chrom."

Emmeryn nodded in agreement, making Lucina feel like she had briefly placated the elder Exalt. Had she known that her aunt was suspicious of her, she'd have never accepted her invitation. Still, at the very least Lucina had perfectly liable excuses for her hair color and possession of Falchion. She doubted that Emmeryn would press the issue further, not when it was clear that-

"Well, if that is the case, you wouldn't mind if you did me a favor…" Emmeryn reached below the table, and—to Lucina's shock—revealed a sheathed Falchion. "I asked Chrom to allow me to borrow Falchion for a bit. I told him that I wished to polish the blade alongside the Fire Emblem since I scarcely handle both. He saw no reason to deny me my request."

Lucina watched Emmeryn with trepidation as she carefully laid the sacred sword on the table. There it was, laying between her and Emmeryn; her father's version of Falchion.

Much to Lucina's further dismay, Emmeryn reached underneath the table once more. This time she pulled out a simple wooden log. Standing up, the Exalt laid the log on the floor; the log standing upright in a perfect position for it to be halved by an axe, or in this case…"

"I want you to attempt to cut this log in half," Emmeryn requested, gesturing for the younger Exalt to take the Falchion on the table. "If what you say is true, the log will not be cut no matter how hard you swing downward."

She was doomed.

Lucina knew that there was no way out.

Hesitantly, Lucina took the Falchion on the table. It's weight, the way it felt in her hands, it was exactly like the one at her hip. Unsheathing the blade with ease, Lucina maneuvered to the log that Emmeryn had laid down on the ground. Raising the sword overhead, Lucina let out a grunt as she brought it down upon the log at full force. Unsurprisingly, the blade cleaved through the log like a hot knife through butter.

Emmeryn simply stared at the halved log, looking calm as always, but Lucina could see the faintest hint of satisfaction on her face. Lucina silently sheathed her father's version of Falchion before laying it back on the table. Quietly, Lucina waited for Emmeryn's response to what had just occurred. There it was: overwhelming proof that she was of Exalted blood.

"In whole honesty, even I had my doubts that you'd be able to do it…" Emmeryn broke the silence.

"What?" Lucina's eyes widened. Emmeryn grinned childishly.

"I half expected you to refuse the challenge and storm out; I certainly would've not pressed the issue further if you had," Emmeryn admitted. "Still, this outcome is far more favorable than that one. It seems that my hunch was correct: you're of Exalted blood. Although, I'm not certain of how you and I are related."

"You'd not believe me if I told you…" Lucina muttered, her cheeks a deep red. She couldn't believe that she didn't think to simply leave like Emmeryn had said.

"Well, I've come to the conclusion that you're somehow from the future; it would certainly explain how you possess a near identical version of Falchion," the elder Exalt stated nonchalantly. Lucina was aghast at how flippant her eldest aunt was.

"The future? For all you know, I'm simply the bastard child of your father." Lucina countered. To her surprise, Emmeryn's expression darkened slightly; though not in the regard that she seemed angry, but more bittersweet.

"My father committed many great evils throughout his time as Exalt, but to suggest that he dare lay with a woman other than my mother is too far," Emmeryn chided Lucina as if she were a child. "If there is one salvageable trait of my father's that I will never forget, it is how much he loved my mother." The Exalt's expression softened.

"Family was the one thing he valued most, especially before my mother passed. When she was alive, father was a different person…" Emmeryn continued, downcast. "Chrom was probably too young to remember what he was like before mother passed, but I never forgot. When mother died shortly after giving birth to Lissa, that was when he changed. Before, he was kind and considerate; I'd even describe him as doting. However, after our mother's death, he collapsed inward. It was as if something within him broke, and he was all too eager to take that anger out on something else. He never abused or hurt us—Chrom, Lissa, and I—if that's any consolation, but he simply stopped caring for us…"

Lucina stared at Emmeryn in shock. She'd not heard much of her paternal grandparents, save for just how much of her grandfather was scum. In a way, she supposed Emmeryn was the only one that could remember what the man was like before he went mad. It was… pitiable.

"Hah… look at me…" Emmeryn sighed, smiling bitterly. "Here I am regaling what amounts to a stranger of my childhood. Forgive me for that, I realize that came out of nowhere."

"Aunt."

"Hmm?" Emmeryn looked at Lucina with raised eyebrows.

"You're my paternal aunt," Lucina admitted.

"Paternal aunt?" Emmeryn hummed. "If I'm your paternal aunt, then that would make you Chrom's child, am I correct?" Lucina nodded. Emmeryn's expression immediately changed, her smile becoming jovial.

"Well, that's just splendid. I'm glad to see that my niece has grown into such a fine young woman," Emmeryn complimented. "Still, judging from your reluctance to divulge this information, am I to assume that Chrom doesn't knows of your true nature?"

"Yes," Lucina replied. "To him, I'm simply just a wildly skilled swordsmaiden going by the name of 'Marth'. He has no knowledge of me being his daughter." Emmeryn pouted.

"A pity, I've no doubt he'd be proud of the fine woman you've become; regardless of the fact you've yet to be born." The Exalt raised a brow, thinking to herself for a moment. "Am I to assume your mother doesn't know yet either?"

"That is a correct assumption," Lucina confirmed.

"Oh, then I suppose I'll not pry any further, my dear," Emmeryn smiled at her niece. "I feel that I've made you a slight bit uncomfortable. Heavens, I may as well have been interrogating you, now that I think about it." Lucina raised her hands dismissively.

"It's alright, in a way I'm somewhat glad to be able to confide in one more person." The bluenette let out a sigh of relief. Emmeryn's eyebrows arched upwards once more.

"Wait, 'one more person'?" Emmeryn repeated. "Does this mean that I'm not the only one that knows?" Lucina wanted to smack herself for that slip up.

"I suppose there's no use hiding it…" the girl murmured. "The only other person that knows about who I really am is Walter, and he knows much more than I've already divulged to you."

"Walter Dornez? Well, I suppose that does make sense." Emmeryn raised a hand to her chin. "Honestly, it seems like the two of you are hardly separated from one another; whenever I spotted one of you this week, more often than not, the other followed right behind."

"Well, his company is enjoyable." Lucina said truthfully. Emmeryn's lips curled upwards as she let out a girlish giggle.

"Ah, yes I suppose he is, and I've no doubt that feeling is mutual," the current Exalt said knowingly. Lucina felt her cheeks flush.

"I suppose that too is obvious…" the future Exalt sighed like a lovestruck teenager.

"Not obvious—I'd never have put two and two together if you hadn't told me he was the only other person that knew your secrets." Emmeryn leaned forward. "So, am I right to assume there's more to the two of you than a simple professional relationship?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Lucina replied. Emmeryn grinned.

"Then I'll pry no further; I mean it this time." Emmeryn sat back in her seat. "All I'll say on the matter is that I'm glad to see my niece has a good taste in men." Lucina's blushed deepened. Emmeryn elected to simply chuckle to herself as she finally attended to her meal.

"Come, I fear our food has gotten quite cold," the Exalt took hold of her utensils. "Thank you for confiding in me, Marth."

"Lucina," the bluennette corrected. Emmeryn's smile widened.

"Lucina? Such a pretty name," she hummed. "Well then, thank you for confiding in me, Lucina."

"Thank you for listening." Lucina replied as she began to prod at her food.

(Song ends here)


Regna Ferox ~ Western Capital
November 1, Age 2608 (6:23 P.M.)

"So, how's our numbers looking?"

"Ferox—both east and west—have pledged a total of five thousand soldiers to the cause." Walter replied to Chrom.

The two military commanders stood around a table, a map of the Feroxi-Plegia border spread out across the surface. Four straight days of marching, and now they'd finally met up with the Khans at Regna Ferox's Western Capital. They were to resume marching tomorrow and would arrive at the chosen battlefield in three days.

"That brings our total number of units to approximately twenty-five thousand; an admirable amount." Walter elaborated as he stared at the map on the table.

"It'd be perfect if it weren't for the fact that Gangrel's forces still outnumber ours almost ten to one." Chrom sighed contemplatively. "In a straight fight, we'd be slaughtered within hours."

"Not arguing against that, but this isn't going to be a straight fight," Walter muttered. The butler broke his gaze on the map of the border between Plegia and Regna Ferox and reached below the table. Pulling out another map, he sprawled it out beside the other one—map revealed to be the entire continent.

"If we've moved discreetly enough, Gangrel will have failed to notice that our sudden movement of troops from here…" Walter pointed to the border pass between Ylisse and Plegia. "…to here." The butler then pointed to where they were currently located: West Regna Ferox.

"Have any of our scouts reported any movement at the Ylisse-Plegia border?" Walter inquired.

"None, it's still the same as when we left Ylisstol," Chrom replied. Walter smirked, pleased with the news.

"Then everything is going according to plan," Walter clapped his hands together excitedly. "Once we cross the border into Plegia, we'll set up camp in the wastes nearby. Gangrel's scouts will report back to him, he'll learn that Emmeryn is in our company with the Fire Emblem, and he'll immediately march what troops he has to our location. Unfortunately, due to how the bulk of his forces are located at the border between Ylisse and Plegia, he'll only have a fraction of his army with him; at most, two-hundred thousand. Factor in the fact that our army is comprised of living breathing soldiers, we'll be able to outmaneuver the shambling corpses that constitute most of his number."

Walter paused for a moment, smiling devilishly.

"Not to mention the small surprise I have in store; the army to army battle is of no issue," the butler's smile faded, and his eyes narrowed. "What will be an issue is Gangrel himself…"

"Right," Chrom agreed, dourly looking down. "That monster… even with a whole army behind us, I feel like we'll only barely be able to stand up to him…" Walter was humming in contemplation.

"You may be right on that account…" the butler raised a hand to his chin. "Sending the whole army at him would actually be counterintuitive; it'll only serve to be cannon fodder that can be turned into even more ghouls." Walter lowered his hand and looked down.

"That is why…" Walter clenched his fists. "…I must face him alone." Chrom frowned at him.

"Again? Walter, I don't if you've forgotten, but the last time you faced him alone you were defeated," the Ylissean prince brought up. "Wouldn't it be safer if we attacked him together? Yeah, not en masse, but maybe a smaller squad; the best of the best."

"No," Walter replied staunchly. "I'm the only one with experience dealing with vampires, so I'll be the one to fight Gangrel. Besides, now that I know what he's capable of, I'll adjust my strategy to defeat him." Walter narrowed his eyes to a glare.

"There will be no mistakes this time, I promise."

Chrom didn't look too convinced. In fact, he looked quite worried. The prince wasn't certain that he should be leaving Walter to fight Gangrel alone. Yes, Walter was by far the strongest fighter they had—bar none—but something was bugging Chrom.

Looking at Walter right now, he could tell that something was off about the butler. On the surface, the man looked the same as always—de-aging aside—but Chrom could see the minute differences in demeanor. Walter seemed a bit slower than before, his walk a little bit more sluggish. He was quieter, and less responsive; as if his mind was elsewhere. There were traces of his usual witticism, but they were rarer than was natural. Most indicative of change lay in the butler's eyes; once a stony gray that turned steely in battle, now they were dull like an overcast sky.

Chrom had no idea what was going on with the butler, and he was eager to find out what was wrong with his friend. After all, he'd only just gotten him back, he wasn't eager to lose him again. Still, he couldn't very well address his concerns to the butler; the man turned teenager would likely brush them off as a result of simple work fatigue. He'd have to find it out from someone else…

But who?

I know… Chrom concluded.

"Hey, Walter," Chrom addressed the butler. "I'm gonna leave you to this; make sure you get your dinner before the cafeteria closes. You know as well as I do that if you're not reminded, you'll forget."

Walter shrugged nonchalantly.

"I'll concede that to you; I'll try to eat within the next hour."

With that, Chrom waved Walter good-bye for now, and began to make his way through the building. He had to find who he was looking for, he needed to know what was wrong with Walter.

If there's anyone that knows what's going on with him, it'll be her. Chrom thought.

Continuing through the building, the prince of Ylisse wandered until he reached his destination: a set of double doors leading to the training room. Entering, Chrom was pleased to see that his hunch was correct.

"That's my win, Sir Lon'qu."

"Damn it all… another match, I'll face you into I finally beat you."

"Er… I think that's enough for today… this was already the thirtieth spar we've had today alone…"

Chrom found himself mildly impressed by what he saw; on one side of the sparring ring was Lon'qu—down on one knee and obviously winded—and on the other stood Marth, who looked tired but not nearly as wiped as Lon'qu.

"Very… well…" Lon'qu breathed heavily as he got to his feet. "However… know that I will… I will pay you back for my… my defeat at Ferox someday…" the myrmidon growled as he retrieved his discarded dummy weapon and re-racked it.

"I look forward to it, I suppose…" Marth replied, looking absolutely sheepish. Poor girl was probably at a loss as to why Lon'qu was so determined to beat her.

Chrom could only chuckle as he Lon'qu shambled past him; not even acknowledging his presence. It was then that Marth noted the blue-haired prince's presence.

"Oh! Fa- er… I mean, Prince Chrom!" Marth greeted him nervously with a shocked expression. "I didn't realize you were watching!" Chrom shrugged.

"Nah, I only just entered. Although, I've gotta say, anyone who can beat Lon'qu thirty times straight is certainly impressive; of course, I know this fact firsthand." Chrom praised whilst referring to his and her match during Regna Ferox's tournament.

"Oh Naga, that was months ago; I'd nearly forgotten that we clashed blades back then." Marth laughed, her nervousness fading. "Are you here to spar as well, because I fear that I must decline; though it might not look it, fighting Lon'qu truly tired me out." Chrom shook his head.

"No no, but maybe another time." Chrom chuckled; he was curious to see if either or Marth had gotten any better since that fight, but that wasn't the topic of concern at the moment.

"Marth…" Chrom cleared his throat, becoming deathly serious.

"Hmm?" the bluenette furrowed her brows. Chrom frowned.

"Do you know what's wrong with Walter?"

Marth stared at Chrom blankly. She watched him for a few seconds before turning her gaze to the ground, sighing as she did.

"So, you noticed it then…" Marth shook her head. "I mean, I noticed it as well, but he assured me that the changes were so minute that no one else would notice…"

"The changes?" Chrom parroted. "What do you mean?" Marth let out a heavy breath.

"Follow me; it's best we speak in private…" Marth gestured for Chrom to follow, which he did without question.

It was a couple of minutes before they reached a quiet area to talk, devoid of any eavesdroppers. Sitting outside on a bench in the middle of a snow-covered courtyard didn't seem ideal, but Chrom assumed that it was necessary. From the tone of Marth's voice, whatever was ailing Walter was serious.

"Prince Chrom," Marth looked to the blue-haired prince. "What do you know of Walter's ailment?"

"Ailment?" Chrom repeated. "I… wait...?"


(Chapter 11: From Sickle to Sword)

"So, you're saying that someone placed a seal on you in order to seal your power?"

Walter shook his head.

"Not exactly Chrom. You see the seal was indeed placed in order to seal the power within myself, but this is a case where I am both the sealed and the sealer."

Chrom's eyes widened in surprise.

"You mean to tell me that you purposefully put a seal on yourself?"

"No, it wasn't me that put the seal up. Whoever created the seal did so with the intention of not controlling it." Walter stared at the back of his gloved hand with a forlorn expression. "The seal was created specifically so that I'm in control of it. It feeds on my physical energy in order to maintain itself."

"So that's why you're so easily exhausted?" The blue-haired prince crossed his arms.

"Yes, that is correct." Walter let out a sigh. "Unfortunately, that means my stamina is practically halved at all times." Chrom raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't explain to me why you suddenly look a decade younger though."

"Yes, that's where it gets slightly complicated, sir." The butler had a dark expression on his face. "You see, the power sealed within me isn't simply just a large power boost. The power sealed is the result of an unholy experiment of sorts, one that I was unfortunately subjugated to. What this power does is it not only heightens all my senses beyond what could feasibly be possible by human standards, but it also returns me to the prime of my life; the prime of my life being my mid-twenties to mid-thirties." Walter clenched his fist in rage.

"Me de-aging by about a decade is a result of the power of the seal weakening. My hypothesis is that the seal was made in order to contain the power, but only for a while."

Chrom looked at his friend with a concerned look.

"Does that mean that the seal will eventually be released of it's own accord?"

Walter shook his head.

"No, no matter what the seal is connected to my own physical energy. So long as I'm alive, the seal will stay in place." Walter clicked his teeth in annoyance, "That won't stop me from steadily de-aging though. I'll continue to de-age until eventually I de-age to the years after my prime or…" Walter trailed off.

"Or what?"

"...or I will continue to de-age until my body wears down into nothing."


(Play song ~ Lapis Philosophorum -Chant- [Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood OST])

"Is that what's happening to him?" Chrom asked quietly. "His body's dying?" Marth nodded solemnly.

"According to him, he's on his last legs…" Marth swallowed. "He told me that he had only two weeks to live at most…"

"And yet he still insists on facing Gangrel alone…" Chrom sighed in disappointment. "Damn that man for biting off more than he can chew… but…"

Marth watched Chrom run a stressed hand through his midnight blue locks. A mirthless laugh escaped the man's lips as he balled his fists.

"…what else can we do other than let Walter take care of it?" Chrom said bitterly. "He could barely keep up with that monster the last time he fought him, and now he plans on facing him alone while he's on death's door. Even if we wanted to fight, we'd only be getting in his way; how can normal humans like us ever hope to measure up to monsters like Gangrel?"

"You're wrong, Chrom…"

The prince flinched as he looked up to see Marth gazing at him with a steely determined gaze.

"We may just be human, but I've no doubt that if we stood together, we'd be able to stand up to Gangrel," Marth proclaimed determinedly. "Your words are empty; you don't believe what you're saying any more than I do."

Chrom stared at the bluenette swordsmaiden. Perhaps she was right… but there was still an issue regarding Walter…

"You're right, but Walter would probably disagree with you; with us," he corrected himself. "I don't think I can convince him of seeing things our way, and even if I gave him a direct order to not confront Gangrel alone, he'd break that order in a heartbeat…"

"Let me speak to him," Marth said. "I've already made an attempt earlier this week to dissuade him from facing Gangrel. I'll try again, but this time I'll try to be a bit more..." the woman paused for a moment as she contemplated what word to use.

"Persuasive," she finished.

Chrom raised a brow.

"Persuasive?" the prince questioned. "The hell does that mean?"

"Well…" Marth glanced off to the side. "…persuasive in a way that only I'm capable."

Chrom eyed the woman suspiciously.

Persuasive in a way that only she's capable? Are Marth and Walter…? Chrom frowned. Yes, it certainly fit, the two of them seemed to hardly ever act as separate units; the duo always seemed to be working towards a shared goal. While the goal of both was a mystery to Chrom—so long as they never harmed Ylisse in anyway, Chrom could care less about what it was—there was no denying that the two were close.

Nah… just imagining things… Chrom shrugged. After all, neither Walter nor Marth seemed the type to break a professional relationship for romance.

Either way, Chrom was more than willing to let Marth have a shot at convincing the butler to not fight Gangrel alone. After all…

…if she couldn't do it, no one could.

(Song ends here)


Regna Ferox ~ Western Capital
November 1, Age 2609 (9:35 P.M.)

(Play song ~ Temple of Time [Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild OST])

Walter was tired.

Why was he tired? It wasn't the days of marching that tired him out, nor the copious amount of planning he was doing. It wasn't the responsibility of seeing that the fighting force was properly equipped with silver weapons, nor the inhumane amount of training he'd been doing by himself.

It was the fact that his body seemed to be slowly approaching it's expiration.

There was nothing he could do about it, and he'd very much resigned himself to his fate. At the very least, the bodily degeneration wouldn't begin until minutes before death, so his limbs wouldn't begin to rot away until that moment arrived. To any other person, this probably was a chilling thought; most certainly an unpleasant way of dying. However, Walter viewed it as a fitting end to a soldier soaked in the blood of both the innocent and the guilty.

Release the seal…

The voice in his head that wasn't his own had become more active as of late. Every time it spoke, it always asked him to do the same thing: release the seal on his power. Although he always ignored it, Walter couldn't help but feel a tinge of familiarity whenever it spoke to him. Hearing it speak brought him a strange mixture of apprehension and comfort; how something could do both was strange, but Walter wasn't curious enough to find out.

Lying in bed, he stared up at the ceiling. The room he'd been granted for the night had a window with which the moonlight seeped through, illuminating the otherwise dark room. His bed was comfy, though nothing beat the comfort of one's own mattress, and he lay under layers of warm blankets that served to stave off the autumn cold.

"Walter?" Lucina's voice called out from outside his room.

"It's unlocked," the butler answered, though his eyes were still glued on the ceiling.

He heard the turn of the doorknob—the light of the hallway briefly illuminating his room as the door was opened, warm candlelight intermingling with cool moonlight. The warm and cool tones danced on the ceiling of his room—a ballet of light and dark—only ending as Lucina closed the door behind her; the warmth quickly receding and leaving the cool blue alone once more.

A temporary warmth... Walter mused. Snuffed out as quickly as lit.

A dour thought in hindsight, but it's what came to mind.

Lucina seemed to lock the door, as the click of the door was audible; following it was the barely heard footsteps of the petite princess as she approached the bed. The bed creaked as Lucina sat at it's edge. Walter—deep in thought—was swiftly snapped back to reality when Lucina suddenly hovered above him; the woman unexpectedly straddling him.

"Walter…" she murmured his name, looking down at him. Walter noted her attire; she was dressed in an eye-catching sky-blue night gown that left very little to the imagination.

Her visible milky skin reflected the moonlight that seeped into the room; the maiden glowing like an angel out of heaven. The butler—as any man would if they were unexpectedly mounted by their lover—felt his cheeks well up, and his throat go dry. What very little clothing he was wearing—a tank top and sweats—suddenly felt all too restrictive as the desire to feel her smooth skin against his became dominant. Not helping was that Lucina was straddling THAT part of his body.

"Lucina," Walter swallowed, struggling to maintain composure. "Mind telling me what you're doing?"

The princess didn't respond, instead continuing to look down at him.

"Lucina, I'm serious, what are you doing?"

Lucina kept her mouth shut; however, she slowly began to descend upon him.

"Luce..." Walter murmured, his voice getting caught in his throat, all while the fair skinned maiden lowered herself closer.

Words, objections, everything died in his throat as his view became enveloped by her. His cheeks were heated as he—without a hint of restraint—lifted his arms around Lucina and accepted her lips onto his own. Their lips remained connected for an unknown amount of time; Walter wasn't keeping count, and he very well doubted Lucina was. His hands ran along the princess' back; her nightgown leaving that part of her body fairly exposed. They remained locked in this passionate embrace for what felt like ages before Lucina parted from him; a breathy groan escaping the maiden's lips as she did.

"Walter…" Lucina broke her silence, her voice barely above a whisper. Walter could see the conflict in her midnight eyes; something was troubling her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, matching her hushed tone. Lucina's eyes became half-lidded as she looked down at him sadly.

"Please, Walter…" her tone begging. "Don't fight Gangrel alone…"

Walter was briefly taken aback. While Lucina was certainly against his decision to face Gangrel on his own—she made that very clear when he first told her of his plan—he certainly wasn't expecting her to bring the topic up again.

"Lucina," he unwrapped his arms from around her back, and placed a hand on her cheek. "This is something I must do."

"But why alone?" Lucina asked sadly. "Let me help you… let my father help you…" she suggested, the corner of her lips downturned.

"I won't risk anyone else's life, Lucina; least of all Chrom's, and especially yours." Walter replied simply. "The thought of you risking your life to save mine is… flattering, but ultimately too painful. I couldn't bear the thought of having to watch you die by his hand…"

"And do you think I don't feel the same?" Lucina's eyes became glassy, her voice shaky. "I've already had to watch that monster defeat you once… you're asking me to sit tight and let you face him again."

"I know…" Walter muttered, speaking in as comforting a tone as he could. "I know… I just need you to trust me on this, alright. Place some faith in me, I won't lose this time…"

Lucina seemed somewhat sated by this response, though her eyes were still watering.

"Promise?" she said weakly.

"Promise…" Walter replied quietly.

With a sigh, Lucina collapsed onto the butler; the princess descending upon him again. She planted a tiny kiss on his lips before locking eyes with him. Want and desire seemed to be reaching a fever pitch for both Walter and her.

Walter couldn't restrain himself, not at this moment...

...not when this could very well be the last night they share.

Without hesitation, he pulled her in closer—their lips clashing once more. His heart pounded as he heard—and felt—Lucina's breathy moans escape her lips. The couple rolled over—positions reversed so that Walter was on top—without breaking contact with one another. Lucina's slender hands seemed to reach underneath the butler's shirt; her hands delicately feeling every crease and curve of his upper body. Walter returned the favor, his hands once again reaching behind the princess; his rough and calloused hands causing Lucina to quiver.

Walter's mind went blank—overcome by want, need, and desire. His own thoughts were discarded and forgotten; worries rendered trivial not just for him, but for Lucina as well. In the warm embrace of his love, Walter simply let his mind go blank...

...and yet...

...even as his thoughts faded into the back of his mind...

...even as clothes were discarded, and bodies were explored...

...even in the throes of passion, against the melodious sound of Lucina's quivers and moans...

..that voice plagued him, that voice that wasn't his own.

Time passed by like the wind as the passion died down.

Lying in bed—caked in sweat that was both his and Lucina's—Walter resumed staring at the ceiling. His arms were wrapped around Lucina, who now lay on his chest—tired and exhausted—having fallen asleep almost as soon as they were finished.

Even as Walter looked upward, up towards the ceiling illuminated by the pale moonlight, thoughts cleared like a whiteboard; the voice plagued him. However, it's chant was different; it's request different.

In spite of this, he chose to ignore it like always.

Gazing at the ceiling one final time, the butler closed his eyes and melted into slumber. As he lost consciousness, the voice echoed in his mind one final time.

For the girl, Angel of Death… release the seal for Lucina, Angel of Death…

(Song ends here)


Northern Plegia ~ The Border Wastes
November 5, Age 2609 (1:30 P.M.)

"This is it, Walter."

"Indeed..."

Walter swallowed his unease as he stared far into the empty horizon. The sky was a sheet of gray clouds—a sign of rain to come. The waste was a vast golden field, sparse groups of trees dotting the area. Ruined fortresses—remnants of some ancient kingdom or what not—stood across the barren golden landscape.

There couldn't have been a more perfect place for a final battle.

"Nervous?" Chrom asked beside him. Walter nodded.

"Yes," the butler replied truthfully.

"Heh, that's reassuring..." the Ylissean prince muttered sarcastically, a boyish grin forming on his face. "Even the great 'Guardian Angel' gets cold feet every now and then." Walter chuckled.

"Well, I am only human," Walter smirked.

"Yeah... y'know, sometimes I forget that..." Chrom sighed wistfully, giving the butler a smile. "It's hard to believe that old man I found passed out on the side of the road would turn out to be the mightiest man I'd ever know."

"Mightiest man you'd ever know?" Walter chuckled. "I don't think I'm worthy of such-"

"You really are something else, Walter," Chrom interrupted. "I don't think you realize just how much of a tragedy it would be if you died."

Walter froze.

"Chrom, I-"

"Don't, just don't..." Chrom shook his head as he stared at the clouded horizon. "I knew something was wrong with you, but Marth confirmed it a few days ago. You're dying."

Walter fell silent. He felt guilty. Guilty that he hadn't told Chrom.

"You have your reasons for keeping quiet about this, I know," Chrom continued. "Honestly, it was smart not telling anyone; no one would be able to sleep at night knowing that you were hard at work trying to save us all despite being at death's door. I just wish there was something we—something that I—could do for you."

The prince sighed again, breaking his gaze from the sunset and turning to Walter.

"I feel like I haven't said this enough, but you've done a lot for me," the prince swallowed. "I just... I don't want there to be any regrets when you do die so I'm saying it now."

Walter was frozen as he watched the Ylissean prince take a deep breath. Whatever he had to say, he obviously wasn't ready to say it.

"Thank you for everything, Walter," Chrom smiled. "Thank you for your wisdom, for your protection, for your confidence. You've... you've taught me what it means to be a leader, that it's alright to fail once in awhile; just as long as you pick yourself back up. You've saved me and my family so many times now, and... I don't think there's anything that I can do to repay you. I... I'm..."

Chrom began to breathe deeply, holding back his emotions.

"I'm honored to have met you, Walter... and... and I don't want you to go..." the prince muttered weakly. Walter stared at the prince.

Like father, like daughter... Walter thought to himself. With a sigh, the butler placed his hand on Chrom's shoulder; the shoulder that bore the Brand of Exalt.

"Don't mourn for me, sir," Walter murmured softly. "I'm so much... lesser than you and Lu- Marth," the butler quickly corrected himself.

"You in particular, you're destined to become a leader far greater than you realize; your exploits will go down in history. Compare that to me, I'm nothing but a lowly butler. I will do what I must to serve and protect not just you, not just Lissa or Emmeryn, but Ylisse. Let me go and do what I have to, sir..." Walter closed his dulled eyes. "Let me take Gangrel with me."

Chrom was silent for a moment. The prince was holding back the surge of emotions he wanted to release. Walter could only stand beside the prince—hand on his branded shoulder.

"You can tell me to let you go to your death all you want, Walter..." Chrom shook his head. "That won't change one fact..." Walter raised a brow.

"What's that?"

Chrom smirked as he gestured behind the butler.

"That I'm not the only one you need to convince."

Walter's brows furrowed in confusion. The butler was taken off-guard when he felt a hand tap his shoulder from behind. Lowering his hand from Chrom's shoulder, the butler turned around. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs at who stood behind him.

"You're a part of the Shepherds, Walter," Chrom said staunchly. "Did you really think you could plan your death without anyone objecting?"

True to Chrom's word, the Shepherds stood behind Walter—some smiling bitter sweetly, others trying not to cry, a few making vain attempts to keep their stony expressions. No matter who Walter looked to, he knew they all felt the same; they didn't want him to die.

"Please don't do it, Walts," Lissa was the first to speak, lips quivering as she attempted to maintain her usual peppy smile. "You're the one that... that inspired me to learn to fight, y'know. That night when... that night when Emm was almost assassinated—you remember, right?" the golden-haired princess shivered.

"When you were almost killed, I was so scared. You're supposed to be the strongest guy in the world, y'know... at least... that's what I think..." Lissa hesitated. "I don't ever want to have to see you like that again... that's why I started fighting. So please... please don't go..."

"Walter," Frederick was next, his usual stoic expression more troubled than typical. "I... I realize that I wasn't very trusting of you in the beginning—the last few days as well if I'm being completely honest. I'm... ashamed at my behavior..." the usually stalwart knight lowered his head.

"If I've any regrets, it is that we never bonded as fellow retainers ought should. I... I let my overly cautious nature keep me from giving you the friendship and respect that you deserve. I do not wish for things to... for things to end this way..." the knight took a deep breath as he stepped back, finished.

"I'm not usually one for mushy crap..." Sully took Walter's attention. "So, excuse me if I sound a bit harsh, but screw you, Walter," the red-haired cavalier sneered.

"Do you really think that you can go off and die on us like that? That ain't how it works! I ain't gonna let any of my comrades die before I do; I don't give two shits if I have to drag your ass—kicking and screaming—from the battlefield. I'm not letting you die!" Sully's glare faltered a bit, her gaze softening. "You really helped me out, y'know... remember how I was complaining about my weight of all things? Even though it was something so... so... meaningless, you still helped me out." the red-head smiled bitter sweetly.

"Don't die, Walter... I mean it..."

Walter sighed as Sully's shoulders slumped, and Virion stepped beside her.

"I... though I may not always be the most serious of individuals, I make no jests when it comes to my allies..." Virion began, his tone uncharacteristically troubled. "I know what it is like to lose people close to me—allies that I've been through... hell with—and I... I do not relish that feeling..." Virion was downcast, his eyes haunted.

"Please... do not make us go through that... just don't..."

Virion, finished with his plea, wrapped an arm around Sully—who looked ready to burst into a fit of angry tears—and walked to the back of the group.

"Ol' Teach is gonna... I'm gonna be real with you for a moment..." Vaike broke his usual bombastic third-person narration for the first time since Walter had known him. "What you're planning on doing is really shitty, y'know. Going at it alone, trusting only yourself, that's a fast track towards death, man. I'm brash—I know—but what you're doing is suicide, and Ol' Teach doesn't let his friends do that." Vaike shook his head.

"You got us all working in pairs for a reason, so why don't you trust us like how you've taught us to trust each other?"

"Your actions are preposterous; your intentions to confront Gangrel are highly illogical," Miriel straightened her glasses, frowning at the butler. "Your plan is injudicious, and I recommend you consider more fruitful alternatives. I would be remiss to allow you to face Gangrel alone." the mage closed her eyes and sighed.

"Do rethink your plan, Walter... I would feel rather disconsolate if you were to perish..."

The mage was uncharacteristically solemn in her request, making Walter feel all the more troubled.

"Hey, Walter..." Stahl was next, the mud-haired cavalier had a melancholy smile on his face. "Yeah... I don't really know what to tell you. I mean, you seem pretty dead set on… fighting Gangrel, so I don't really have a clue on how to convince you not to…" he scratched his arm sheepishly.

"It's kinda sad, really… everyone else's got a thousand and one things to tell you so that you don't, and here I am struggling to come up with just one…" Stahl murmured sadly. "I'm just gonna do what I need to and speak my mind. I really don't want you to fight Gangrel; nothing more to it than that. I mean, what else can I say that anyone else hasn't said—and will say—already? I'm… I mean… I'm stumbling over my words here… so… please… please don't do it, Walter…"

"Please don't fight Gangrel, Walter…" Sumia clasped her hands over chest, looking at the butler with watering eyes. "I remember that first battle at the Northroad—back when… back when I was so unsure of myself. I was so scared… so scared, and nervous; I honestly felt like I was just holding everybody back…" the Pegasus Knight's lip quivered as she took a deep breath.

"But you instilled me with confidence… you… you made me feel like I was something… something more. It's because of… because you believed in me that I'm as strong as I am today…" Sumia held back a tear. "T-that's why I don't want you to go, Walter. You… you inspire courage in all of us… you give us the confidence to do our best… to be our best. I don't think there's anyone else that can fill your shoes… no, I'm sure of it…"

Sumia closed her eyes, holding back the stream of tears that threatened to come pouring. Walter wanted to give the young woman a hug but was beaten to the punch by Chrom; who simply wrapped an arm around the Pegasus Knight.

"You're the only one that seems to consistently see me," Kellam began, several others around him nearly leaping away in shock upon realizing that the gentle giant was present among them. "Seems pretty dumb of a reason—I know—but… but it means something to me." Kellam looked down.

"Part of me is kinda scared that no one will ever see me again if you die. You said that you'd help me figure out why no one can see me too; months ago, actually…" the knight trailed off. "Not that I blame you, if you'd forgotten…"

"I haven't," Walter replied simply.

"Oh, well that's great," Kellam grinned slightly. "I knew that you were just too busy and stuff to help me out with my problems, and it'd be pretty selfish if I pestered you into helping. Still… I was kind of hoping—after this war was done, and everything calmed down and all—we could get back on that…"

Walter felt his throat go dry as Kellam seemed to shrink into the background. The butler could hear the giant of a man murmuring to himself.

"Guess it was just wishful thinking…" Walter heard, adding to the butler's ever-growing pile of guilt.

"Hmph…" Walter heard Lon'qu scoff. "All this talk of needing one another for strength, yet no one speaks of the true tragedy that would arise from your death, Walter…" the myrmidon glared at the butler.

"I carry no delusions of reality; the death of comrades occurs frequently," Lon'qu murmured harshly, earning him more than a few scathing glares from his peers. "However, that does little to hide the fact that it would be a tragedy if you—Walter—were to die today. I will admit…" the swordsman paused for a moment.

"You have been a great inspiration to me…" that declaration caused the glares to turn to smirks. "I do not wish to see a man as great as you fall at the hands of a madman… not when there is much I could learn from you…"

"Hey…" Ricken meekly approached the butler. "I… er…man, this is still so weird… jeez… I'm a stuttering mess like Stahl was…" the young mage laughed halfheartedly.

"Walter, I want a crack at Gangrel like you—I think we all do… but, going at him alone? Jeez… gives me shivers just thinking about it…" the youngest Shepherd relented. "I know you're like fifteen hundred thousand times stronger than me, and you probably DO stand the best chance outta all of us of beating Gangrel, but no one wants you to fight him alone; not when you don't have to. I mean… you call me reckless, but how's what you're planning on doing any better?"

"You stupid, arrogant, reckless man," Maribelle sneered at the butler—the noble looking down her nose at Walter. "You've quite the nerve viewing yourself as some sort of messiah to us; needing to face that miscreant of a king—Gangrel—alone. Have you learned nothing in your time as a Shepherd? Your head is much thicker than I'd initially taken it for." Maribelle sighed disapprovingly. The girl then shook her head, tilting her head downward as she closed her eyes.

"Just so we're clear, you either let us stand with you, or you won't fight at all," Maribelle gave Walter a hardened glare. The butler relented; the noblewoman may be a non-combatant, but she sure knew how to intimidate…

"You man-spawn never cease to baffle me," Panne commented abruptly. "You've placed such emphasis on 'togetherness' and 'camaraderie', yet are so quick to push others away in the face of danger. It is… lamentable…" the taguel sighed.

"I've very little memories of my kin—I was young when my people were hunted down and murdered—however… I will admit that I've found a new home among you man-spawn; ironic as it is. I… value this… 'family', even if it is… strange at times." Panne frowned. "I will not allow one of our number to throw their life away—for myself or anyone—not again."

"Eh… I don't really give a damn about who's giving up their life for who; you live a life as a—I'll admit it aloud just this once—career criminal like me, and you lose plenty a people along the way," Gaius muttered, bored. "Still, seeing's how everyone else's got their panties up in knots about this, it'd be REALLY crappy of me not to give it a shot. Imma try my best to keep you from getting yourself killed, alright Wires?" Walter was taken aback by the nickname he was given.

"I ain't gonna delude myself into thinking we were the closest of pals—hell, we've barely spoken at all—but a friend's a friend, and I sure as hell need a lot more of those…" Gaius scratched the back of his head. "Look, if you wanna go at Gangrel—swords blazing like some crazy asshole with nothing left to live for—go right ahead, but just think about the people you're leaving behind, Wires. I doubt I'm one of 'em, but you've got friends in this motley crew of ours that would be really bummed if you got yourself killed. Just… think about it… pretty please?"

Walter found himself wishing this guilt trip would end. It was becoming REALLY repetitive, and the butler didn't want any more reasons not to go. Of course, his desire to get off the guilt train was ignored, as Cordelia quietly stepped forward to confront him.

"Walter…" the Pegasus Knight gave the butler a hard stare. "Naga, it's been over a month since then, but do you remember what you told me about regret? About having a realization too late?" Walter nodded slowly, recalling the conversation as if it were yesterday.

"Well—in case you haven't realized already—no one wants you to fight Gangrel alone. No one—not a single Shepherd—is willing to let you stand against that monster without us," Cordelia continued. "You don't need to sacrifice yourself for our sake. We can stand together and fight. You don't have to do this alone, Walter."

"We all wish to stand beside you on the battlefield, Walter," Libra chimed in. "With Naga's blessings, nothing will stand against us; however, we must come together as one. Do not let yourself become a sacrificial lamb."

Walter stared at his friends—people that he'd grown to care for and have grown to care for him in turn—blankly. Some he knew better than others, but that did little to change the fact that they didn't want him to fight—not alone.

"Everyone…" Walter murmured quietly. "I… I'm sorry, but-"

"Oy, Gregor wishes to chime in," Gregor… chimed in.

"Gregor not speak until now, there is good reason for keeping mouth shut," the mercenary continued, crossing his arms. "Everyone forget—or perhaps everyone ignores—fact that Walter is oldest here; older than Gregor, even."

"Hey, he ain't older than me!" Nowi objected.

"Hah, yes Gregor apologizes; Walter is second oldest among Shepherds," the old mercenary corrected himself. "Still, everyone gets picture, no?"

Several Shepherds shook their heads. Gregor placed his hands on his hips and looked down at his juniors disapprovingly.

"Oy, no one is listening to Gregor so Gregor make message very clear; no one has right to stop Walter, not even prince," the mercenary pointed at Chrom. "Walter is senior—not child—he can make decision for himself; if Walter say crazy king too strong for anyone else, then Gregor say crazy king is too strong for anyone else as well."

Walter was taken aback; Gregor agreed with him?

"Yeah… imma have to agree with Gregs…"

"Gregs!? Oy, Gregor would rather Nowi call Gregor 'grandpa' then 'Gregs'…"

"…I don't think anyone can really stop Walter from fighting," Nowi continued, ignoring Gregor's complaint. "I know, I know, for once I'm the voice of reason, but hear me out…" the manakete looked uncharacteristically serious.

"Is anyone else here as strong as him?" she asked rhetorically. "Is anyone else anywhere NEAR as strong as Gangrel? If we go out there and fight the crazy monster, we're gonna get torn to shreds. It doesn't matter how any of us feel, the truth is that we'd only be getting in Walter's way."

As much as anyone wanted to deny it, as much as anyone wanted to object, no one could find it in themselves to speak up. It was a bitter truth—one that everyone had come to terms with even before Chrom had gathered them all up for this impromptu intervention. No one, not Chrom, Frederick, Cordelia, Lon'qu, or any other was under the delusion that they'd make a difference in the fight against Gangrel. However, they wanted to at least try to talk Walter out of it.

"Everyone…" Walter finally managed to find his voice. "I'm… flattered by your concern—I truly am. I… quite honestly, I underestimated just how much all of you… cared for me." The butler took a deep breath.

"However, Gregor and Nowi are correct; Gangrel is too much for all of you, and if I'm being honest…" Walter smiled bitterly. "…he's too much for me as well. He's faster and stronger than I am, and it's likely that I am indeed just going to get myself killed."

He got mixed reactions at that confession; some stared at him blankly, others teared up.

"Still… if there's even the slightest chance that I can defeat him, I'll take it," Walter continued. "I won't let any of you—not even one of you—die today. You all have futures to live out; I'm just some codger that's lived a long enough life. I've done many things that I'm not proud of…" Walter murmured; thoughts dwelling on his betrayal to Hellsing.

"…but today—if I die—I'll die without any regrets."

Like a stretched cable being snapped, the emotional floodgates opened. Chrom was first to move, followed Lissa and then Sumia. One by one, Walter was surrounded—at the center of the Shepherds' embrace. Some of the less touchy Shepherds chose to opt out—Lon'qu looked like he'd sooner take up interpretive dance than participate in the 'group hug'—but the sudden show of affection was nice.

"If that's how you feel, then we'll respect your wishes, Walter," Chrom spoke up for the group. "We've all said it, but it bears repeating; thank you for everything you've done for us. Thank you so much, Walter…"

Walter could only silently accept the thanks, voice once again caught in his throat. He found himself suddenly wishing he had more time to live. There was so many things left for him to do; so much for him to experience. He had friends that needed him; a surrogate family to care for, and that cared for him in turn.

Still, there was nothing that Walter was willing to do to extend his time limit. The dawn approached, and his 'day' was coming to an end.

"Gangrel's army approaches from the south!" a voice shouted from atop the fort's wall.

Walter swallowed as he closed his eyes.

The wait was over…

…the time for battle had arrived.


Writer's Notes
Finally, we're at the climax! Of note, I'll probably be exclaiming, "Finally, we've reached 'blank'" for the next few chapters.

Anywho, was this chapter a challenge to write…

a long…

frustrating…

trial.

Seriously, hardest chapter to write yet…

also, longest one yet.


Behind the Keyboard

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Nearly forgot about the gloves - I nearly forgot to have Walter grab his gloves before leaving Ylisstol. That might've been quite embarrassing if I forgot to write that in.

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Emmeryn and Lucina - I always thought Lucina's lack of interactions with people outside her immediate family(mother, father, and sibling if there is one) was a missed opportunity; I mean, she doesn't even have support conversations with Lissa. I just wanted to have a moment of Lucina interacting with the aunt she never got to know.

As for Emmeryn seeing through Lucina and figuring her out, she does bring up that it's kinda obvious if you even put in a modicum of thought into it. Well, at least Lucina has one more person to confide in if she wishes.

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Chrom is dense - How else could you explain him not figuring out that Lucina was related to him the moment that she whipped an identical version of Falchion, sported a fighting style similar to his, and bore all the tell-tale signs of Exalted blood? As such, he's unaware that Lucina and Walter are romantically involved—despite knowing that Lucina was the one other person probably aware of Walter's failing health, and that the two spend an odd amount of time together.

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Pre-Climax Climax - Unlike last chapter, this was left unambiguous. Also, I like TV Tropes.

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The Shepherds Intervention - This was the part of the chapter that caused such a delay. It took me so long to come up with how each individual Shepherd would attempt to talk Walter down; it doesn't help that I haven't done much with a handful of them.

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Reviews

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Starlight's Poet - No comment... I will neither confirm or deny Alucard's involvement...

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Touhoufanatic - Yeah, if there ever was a reason for me to continue beyond the 'Gangrel Arc' the future children would be one of the big ones. I've come to a decision on what I'm doing, but I'll keep that decision to myself until this arc is finished.

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kerrowe - Well, you aren't wrong; in order to properly seal the power, he'd need something with 'godlike' power.

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pt1oef - Considering what Walter and Lucina did this chapter, I'd be remiss if I suddenly did a 180 and decided to have Walter pair off with someone else ...and before anyone asks, NO I will NOT make this into a harem story.

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mistersnx - Hold your applause, the show's only just reaching it's climax, but thank you for the praise anyway. I appreciate it!

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ARSLOTHES - Looks like someone gets an internet cookie

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Aergaia - Yes, I did do it and I'm glad I did. Them keeping their relationship a secret seems like the natural choice, although it seems that Emmeryn figured it out already.

Answering your questions, Robin/Grima has 'technically' made an appearance already. Where he is in the story thus far is ambiguous, but he is present; just not in an obvious way. Alucard making an appearance has been hinted at, but I'm not gonna confirm nor deny it. Even if he does appear, he'd only have one gun because 'Jackal' was destroyed during his fight with Walter. Why would Walter question Donnel's headgear? It's COMPLETELY conventional.

Well, it seems I took an impromptu holiday break... but I'm back!

Walter's still VERY much against becoming a vampire, regardless of how he feels about Lucina. Although there's now a voice in his head—a voice that isn't his—that's telling him to do it for her. Well, whether or not he listens to that voice is in the air.

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'Guest' - I normally don't reply to nondescript guest reviews, but this one made me laugh. In all seriousness, how far they went is up to the reader; although not this chapter. It's unambiguous this time around, they did the 'horizontal tango' so to speak.

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ThatOneGuyUpstairs - Agreed, without Morgan, Fire Emblem Awakening runs on 'Multiverse Theory'—to use Team Four Star's term for this variation of time travel—fairly smoothly. Two timelines—one future and one present—and actions in the present timeline don't affect the future timeline. You have to sort of fill in the blanks and come up with your own theory as to where Morgan comes from—particularly when you pair Robin with a 'future child'. The fact that it's not brought up that Morgan's very existence—when parented by Robin and someone from the future timeline—may indicate Grima was victorious is simply indicative of one the bigger issues of Awakening: the fact that character arcs are optional. You can go through the entire game without ever S-Rank Supporting any of your units—except Chrom, because Lucina is a mandatory character—so as a result, anything within the supports cannot affect anything within the main plot.

Of course—since this is a written medium instead of an interactive one like a game—the issues with Morgan's very existence can be addressed. However, that's only if I get that far.

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reap2 - Walter talking about his past may come later if I continue after this story arc. After all, Walter talking about his past kind of requires he survives this battle. As I've said in the other responses, I will neither confirm nor deny if Alucard will make an appearance.

A reaction fic to this one? I don't think I'm the kind of person to write that sort of fanfic, but I'll keep the idea in my head for awhile. As for the Abridged comment: Abridged as in abridging this story a la TFS, or writing a version of this story using the Abridged version of Walter? Either way, the thought did cross my mind—of doing both actually—but then I remember that I've a fairly meh sense of humor

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I know that this isn't what I promised, and that it has been awhile since the last update, but there were a couple of setbacks involving this chapter.

1) I was in the middle of my college semester, so I had very little time to focus on writing

2) I was working on another personal story project of mine, and that required more attention

3) Whenever I was able to work on this, I kept writing a couple thousand words before coming to the conclusion that it was crap.

4) Writer's block (enough said)

Overall, I decided to simply go forward with the plot while retaining some ideas from the many MANY drafts of this chapter I went through. As always, I do hope it came out well.

You may have noticed that a chapter was deleted, and it was the update chapter between this story arc and the last one. For one, it only existed for me to announce that the Gangrel Arc was a thing so that was one reason it had to go. The bigger reason was that it had recycled ideas that I may not use in the upcoming chapters. I don't want to spoil what may or may not happen, but it'll be quite the show.

Anyway, my next semester of college has begun. I didn't sign up for as many classes this time around, so I have more free time to write. Also, I just realized that it's been over a year since the Gangrel Arc started, so I better wrap this all up soon…

It's been a journey, but we're FINALLY at the tail end(of this arc)!

Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out soon, but until then; I hoped you all had good holidays, and hope that this New Year is a good one!

I'm late by a month, but Happy 2020!


Next time on Walter Dornez of the Emblem!

Death