A cold tear fell from Morgan's cheek as the light in his life flickered and died just out of reach from his extended hand. Whatever capricious god he'd wronged to curse him in this manner had outdone themselves this morning. Morgan's fingers spread out a bit farther, as if he could grasp the rising sun and drag it back through the thin crack between the jagged mountaintops and rolling storm clouds. "No… my love… don't leave me, please…" Despite his begging, Morgan could already feel the last of his strength abandoning his body as he slumped forward on his horse in defeat.

Nature cannot be bested, it can only be accommodated for.

Even the hollow ringing of one of his mother's maxims in his ears didn't make the snow trodden deep into the earth underfoot feel like anything more than divine intervention. An entire week's worth of broken stone roads being so unfriendly to travelers had to be a statistical impossibility. When the sun hadn't been obfuscated by snowy peaks or monochromatic clouds, towering pine trees filled their role and eliminated any chances of thaw. For someone who was probably more accustomed to the fairer climate of Ylisse, the biting chill with interspersed moments of sunlight to provide false hope was a tortuous new experience. It wasn't as if he regretted the chance to make new memories, but the ignorance of his plight by the two cantering horses and their owners in front of him convinced the budding tactician that the nature of his divine punishment was decidedly supernatural. "Come on, you can't look at this as anything but solid proof that we're cursed!" Morgan complained loudly enough to make a scene, waving one arm wildly at the disappearing sun. "Those clouds definitely weren't there when we started riding this morning or the day before that. This country is trying to kill us before we can reach mother!"

"Mother nature plays no favorites, brother. The Feroxi thrive effectively in this part of the world. It never bothered father either." the head of their party, a woman with flowing blue hair and a lord's garb of matching color informed Morgan.

Morgan shook his head in disagreement for a full second before realizing nobody could see him. With a single kick his horse had matched the pace of his two companions, nearly running both off the road entirely. "No, that's not the point! If someone's trying to stop us, that means they must be the one who's kept mother here all this time! It's gotta be scientific proof or something. Laurent, explain it!"

Laurent, still adjusting to having to share the road with two other horses, only sighed as he pushed his glasses up his face. The sage was supposedly only a few years older than Morgan, but his extra time in this world and his dedication to following in his own erudite mother's footsteps had made him a reliable dearth of knowledge for most conceivable topics, especially the mundane ones. "I assure you, Morgan, the only curse we suffer from is misfortune, and the only way to ameliorate it is time."

"But what about this morning when I found a rock in my shoe? Or the day before when I had a stomachache? It's been like this for days, see?" Morgan attempted to prove his point by rubbing his stomach in faux pain. "That merchant we passed yesterday was probably a Risen just waiting for his chance to stab us in the back!"

"All you've proven is that you'll believe anything that increases the chances of our mission being successful," Lucina remarked. "I wish to see mother again just as much as you do, believe me, but making up reasons why we haven't yet is only going to make things more complicated."

Complicated was the succinct summary of their current situation, which should have made further additions onto the pile redundant. Had Morgan not caught Laurent's eye before his next comment, he might have pushed the subject further. To his admitted embarrassment, tact wasn't one of the tactics his mother had imparted onto him before her untimely disappearance. The crown princess of Ylisse had shifted forward on her horse, one hand clutching the reins tightly while the other brushed snow from the hilt of her sword, Falchion. She had grown into the ideal leader far sooner than she was supposed to, meaning what failures she claimed as her own constantly tugged at the corners of her cape and bared her inexperience to the careful observer. It was one of many reasons Morgan was so motivated to reclaim the memories he'd lost when he and the others had been scattered across this world. For now, Morgan exchanged acts and puffed his chest out proudly. "Of course I know that! Only a fool would give up after only two years of absolute failure! A good tactician has to consider all the possible obstacles that may be faced on the path of war, which includes curses by nature gods."

"Has anyone informed the good tactician that the war ended two years ago?" Laurent muttered, drawing his cloak further over himself.

Morgan pretended not to hear his friend and focused his gaze on the road ahead. It had been nearly a week's journey on top of two years of searching, but the three of them were finally closing in on another rumored location of Morgan and Lucina's missing mother. Since their victory in the war against Plegia and the rout of the fell dragon Grima, the citizens of Ylisse had tirelessly searched for their queen who had vanished in the wake of the final battle. The search efforts were headed by her children and their companions from the averted future where Grima succeeded in its conquest, continuing to pursue every rumor and supposed sighting long after the fear of the queen's passing turned into unshakable belief in the eyes of many. Over time, the number of sightings had dwindled exponentially, to the point that this lead from their neighboring country to the north was their first one in months. It was only happenstance that Morgan, Laurent and Lucina were in Ferox's capital, Regna Ferox, on diplomatic business at the time. Reigning Khan Flavia had graciously allowed them to postpone their original mission for a few weeks upon receiving the news, no doubt remembering the missing grandmaster tactician's contributions to establishing her reign in the first place. Thus the prince and princess, with some additional tasks involving deliveries and informing the leadership of neighboring towns about policy changes from the Khan, had set out with fellow childhood friend Laurent to reach the nearest town reporting a sighting of their missing mother.

While the memories of his travels with his friends over the past two years brought Morgan some warmth to combat the frigid morning air, he couldn't help but wish his mother had somehow been there to experience it with him. Morgan fingered the lapel of his coat. Most of the sightings were centered around Robin's extremely conspicuous ornate black coat with gold trimmings, crested with the Ylissean symbol identifying someone as a grandmaster tactician of the country. Though the markings woven in deep purple along the arms were distinctly Plegian, his mother's tireless efforts for the country that had taken her in after she lost her own memories had silenced even the most pessimistic naysayer. Said coat had been gifted to him by Robin before she had disappeared in his and his companion's own time, at least according to Lucina. Morgan probably wasn't one to dwell on a past that had abandoned him, but he couldn't help the occasional twinge of frustration at his possibly hereditary amnesia. It was confusing enough not being able to remember anything besides his mother without being told that he supposedly came from a future where a massive dragon had destroyed the world.

Killing said world's largest dragon, spending time with his friends that had thought him dead and living with his mother through a war should have been enough to jog a memory or two, but Naga seemed to disagree. On top of that, the only person he did have memories of had suddenly decided to make the tactically wrong decision and sacrifice herself to kill the dragon for good. The world's cautious peace, exciting as it was, felt just a bit plainer without his whole family around to enjoy it. "Perhaps the real truth is she's become an uncontrollable corrupted monster because of the fell dragon's power and she's trying to keep us away so she isn't forced to kill us," Morgan mused, drawing a sharp inhale from both of his friends. "Or maybe she lost her memories again and she's living as a hermit because she's forgotten how to adapt to society!"

"Our mother is not a monster or an invalid," Lucina remined her brother. "And don't mention the fell dragon so casually. You'll startle our horses if you continue to carry on like that."

"Says you," Morgan threw back. "A good tactician knows how to tell a good story. Mother probably said that at some point during one of our strategy meetings."

"I can assure you that Lady Robin would never utter such drivel as strategic advice," Laurent interrupted. "If we're fortunate, she can tell you that herself soon."

In response, Morgan whipped one of the books on tactics his mother had gifted him out from his coat. "Page 146 line 20: If you're ever captured by the enemy, know how to tell a good story."

Laurent rolled his eyes, adjusting his oversized mage's hat to ensure Morgan could see his disappointed look. "I should hardly presume she would have need of that particular piece of advice for the battles we fought through. Has the task at hand somehow failed to hold your interest such that you need to fabricate difficulties for us?"

"If you're this invested, does that mean you really think this is the one?" Morgan replied eagerly, bouncing up and down on his poor horse as he returned the book to his coat with the others.

"We have no reason to believe it isn't yet," Lucina half-lied for her friend as she tried to peer through the softly falling snow towards their destination ahead. "Supposedly, this person has been moving from town to town along this trade route while dressed similarly to, well, you. Her last sighting from the scout who reported to us was from the town ahead. If nothing else, we may be able to glean more information from this person."

Morgan's heart swelled with hope as freezing winds buffeted his body. A missing mother certainly wasn't ideal, but it had granted him the opportunity to see much of the world he wouldn't have otherwise.

A tactician wouldn't exist if there was no adversity to face. Look at your current problem and remember that you are needed.

Robin had said that when Morgan had asked her about a pitfall he'd dug that she'd refused to fill for him, but he understood the meaning behind it. Although the winds of warfare had carried him around the world as well, but it wasn't quite the same when you were leaving bodies everywhere you went. The budding tactician tugged the coat tightly around his body, shivering his only other defense against the breeze flowing into his face. Even in summer Ferox was intolerably cold. Rubbing his hands together was far inferior to simply using a fire tome, but the horses had vetoed that idea when they threw Laurent into the snow at the first sign of an ember. Of all the new discoveries that had filled his life since amnesia left it nearly empty, frostbite ranked towards the bottom of his enjoyment list. "Are we there yet?" He asked nobody in particular.

A visible sigh was shared between Morgan's two companions. Though they'd fought together for years at this point and he'd supposedly known them his whole life, neither his sister nor her close confidant seemed to be able to appreciate the value of a good conversation starter. "Nothing I can tell you will make the journey faster," Lucina replied evenly. "We suffer the cold just as you do."

This claim was quickly debunked by Morgan as he spurred his horse onward to move in front of his companions. "Yeah, right. Laurent's wearing like 3 layers of mage robes and you've got memories of years of training in a future where there's no sun. This is probably easy for you, isn't it?"

Insensitive as the comment was, nobody paid it any heed. "You were present somewhere at the time as well," Laurent rebuked. "However briefly, your endurance should not be stunted by a lack of memories. If anything, you fare better than us with your chosen garb."

"Mother never made this thing ice proof," Morgan responded matter-of-factly. "Fireproof, lighting proof, sure, but ice spells don't exist, so no insulation here."

"You're saying that the coat mother passed down to you can do anything except function as a useful coat?" Lucina questioned with a raised eyebrow. "I once saw her withdraw two lances and an axe from her coat at once, but you're telling me she never thought to make it comfortable?"

"Of course!" Morgan boasted for no reason. "A good tactician maximizes the usefulness of their coat over their own comfort! I think. No, that one's definitely real! When we find her she'll tell you herself, you'll see!"

A small smile found its way to Lucina's face that she hid quickly. "I would be very grateful to have her prove me wrong." Morgan opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it when he noticed how contemplative his sister looked. "Let's hurry on. Our first destination shouldn't be more than an hour away. We're on business for the Khan as well, so we shouldn't keep them waiting."

Lucina spurred her horse onward, dragging the wagon containing their dwindling supplies further through the frozen path before them. Howling wind brought the scent of towering pine trees to Morgan as he took in the admittedly breathtaking landscape around him. Silence dominated the trio once more as they rode, Morgan concentrating on staying warm as images of Robin filled his head. Having next to no memories had been treated like a burden for him to carry by everyone else during the wars with Plegia and Valm, but to Morgan it had been freeing. His only connection had been to his mother, and that had been more than enough motivation for him to throw himself into the fray without a moment's hesitation. Even painful experiences like trudging through the freezing cold for a week had been new and interesting in their own way to him. Now, his private moments only allowed him to remember the friends he'd lost, his mother most of all. It was part of the reason he'd reluctantly agreed to assist his father with his mother's duties in her absence. The work distracted him, kept his energy directed towards something he could at least say was positive. Of course, it did nothing to help him forget that his mother was still missing. It wasn't Chrom's fault that he was down one competent tactician and wife to run Ylisse's affairs, but it didn't make sitting at his mother's desk any easier. Rather, it made him all the more adamant about finding her and returning the queen to her rightful place. "You need not concern yourself," Laurent commented, startling Morgan. "Regardless of the veracity of these rumors, this experience should prove enlightening."

"How so?" Morgan asked, tilting his head towards the older man. "You think we'll get something out of this even if the sightings are fake?"

"Of course," Laurent replied bluntly. "Should they prove false, qualitative information about the nature of the source of the rumor will be essential for narrowing the search parameters in the future. If Queen Robin is indeed survived somewhere, we will eventually discern her location."

Morgan knew it was Laurent's way of trying to cheer him up, but he could tell in the man's tone that he had silently written their search off as a fool's errand. It wasn't like Morgan could blame him, but it still nagged at him. If Lucina wasn't so hell bent on finding his mother before returning to their future, none of them would still be here. It was a conversation Morgan had caught snippets of between the other future children over the years, but none of them dared to bring it up in front of him or Lucina. Despite his frustration, Morgan maintained his easy smile. It wouldn't do to worry anyone unnecessarily. "Thanks, Laurent. I've got a good feeling about this one. I mean, the sightings have been consistent for weeks and there's someone trying to curse us to death before we even get there!"

"If this is indeed the queen, I have numerous queries about the nature of her evasive behavior," Laurent sort of agreed. "But for now, the road awaits. Lucina, hold a moment! You'll leave us behind!" The sage took off after the departing princess.

With the embers of determination burning away the cold anxiety attempting to grip his heart, Morgan followed his friends dutifully. Only as his mind threatened to lose itself in reveries completely did he find himself stopping short behind a rather large crowd. The ruckus being raised was centralized at the entrance to a large wooden gate manned by several armed guards. Said guards were trying to placate the crowd peacefully, but the bustling of carts and bodies alike was proving difficult to control. Had the gate behind them not been shut, they likely would have been overwhelmed by now. Morgan pulled his horse to a stop next to Lucina and Laurent to observe the clamor. "Some kinda festival going on?" he asked, noting the large supply of various goods stopped at the door.

"The Feroxi aren't big on festivals that don't involve bludgeoning each other," Lucina disagreed, pointing to the houses poking out behind the wall. "This is our destination, Khad. It's a trade town that serves as a waypoint to get to Port Ferox, so we're probably looking at merchants being denied entry so they can get to the coast."

"Why don't they just go around then?" Morgan asked. "We travelled offroad all the time as an army, didn't we? We had way more stuff than they have."

Laurent tsked and shook his head. "I won't address all the fallacies within your presumption save one: these merchants are likely dilettantes at survival, and ferrying goods through either the forest or mountains would be perilously risky under the most favorable odds. If the town is inaccessible, so is the trade route."

This logic still didn't appear to be resonating with Morgan, but Laurent had learned a long time ago not to get caught explaining his simple rationalizations to people lest his entire day be squandered. Instead, he directed the group's attention to the men at the gate. "If we can make contact with one of the guardsman, we may be able to ascertain the nature of this anomaly."

A certain tactician perked right up at this idea. "And pull rank? Do we get to pull rank?" Morgan asked excitedly, the benefits of being the son of the Ylissean exalt suddenly becoming relevant when it seemed like he'd get the chance to abuse them.

Lucina had folded her arms disapprovingly before Morgan had finished speaking. "Not unless we must. That rank doesn't belong to us in this world anyways. We are envoys of the will of Ylisse here, nothing more, nothing less. Laurent, how's our coin?"

"Dwindling," Laurent replied without checking. "Bribery is inadvisable regardless. The guards-"

"Not them," Morgan cut in, sensing what Lucina was thinking. "But I doubt those merchants will be willing to talk much right now anyways. We might be better off going around to see if the other entrance to town is closed as well."

"That would take too long," Lucina denied. "Let's just see if we can talk to these guards first. Khan Flavia asked us to meet with the town's leader, which should be enough to get us in."

Having already run through every possible outcome should they try a direct approach through his head, Morgan could tell that this strategy was doomed to them waiting for the gates to open with everyone else. Laurent appeared to be thinking similarly, but he spurred his horse onwards regardless of his concerns. Frowning, Morgan decided to take matters into his own hands and dismounted his horse. Nobody ever learned anything if they didn't try new things, after all. "I'm going to investigate a bit. Signal me if you get in!" Morgan called out to his friends as they parked their own horses at the edge of the crowd.

Lucina responded with a wave to indicate her understanding. Both parties had expected something like this to happen. If there was one thing Morgan was terrible at, it was sitting still. Problems didn't exist to conform to solutions, problems existed so Morgan and his mother could devise strategies to remove them entirely. For this reason, Morgan found himself staring up at the gate wall just out of sight of the commotion behind him. It was a sturdy wooden wall at least three or four times his height with sharpened logs at the top and smooth sides to deter climbers. While destroying the wall with high level lightning or fire magic would be simple, he ideally wanted to get in while doing as little damage as possible to his surroundings. That left only one favorable option. A trace of pity for those with no magical aptitude was felt by Morgan as he withdrew an elwind tome from his coat. He'd be lost if he didn't have both his sword and magic tomes on him at all times. It was another reason his mother had drilled into his head to never remove his coat when he was travelling. She'd implemented so many pockets and magical wards into the coat it was held together more by magic than fabric at this point, but Morgan wouldn't ever be coerced into taking it off. He couldn't calculate the exact power levels as quickly as mother, but within a moment he was satisfied with the amount of force it would take to propel him over the wall.

"If you're going to jump it, I recommend using arcwind instead of elwind," A voice commented from behind Morgan as he prepared to fling himself at high velocity upwards.

Whirling around, Morgan almost fell over trying to contain and neutralize the magic he'd been about to unleash from his tome. When he'd recovered his balance, he realized that one of the merchants from the front gate had followed him. He was wearing a far less practical coat than Morgan, lined with brown fur to oppose the Ferox winds. The friendly smile on his face was the only feature Morgan could make out clearly behind his hood, but Morgan couldn't sense anything more than genuine interest from the man. "A merchant who knows magic?" Morgan asked curiously, closing his tome to avoid a confrontation but not putting it away.

"What good is a merchant who can't demonstrate the effectiveness of his products?" the man replied rhetorically with a dramatic wave of his hand. "In any case, while elwind might seem better because you're less likely to propel yourself too high, arcwind can actually hold enough charge to launch you higher then soften your landing with a second smaller burst of wind. Of course, that's all banking on the ludicrous idea that you think you can pull this off unharmed. Only the late queen was known to be able to do that, and I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."

"You've seen mo- I mean Queen Robin before?" Morgan asked incredulously, forgetting the implication of her passing for a moment.

"Aye, but that was years ago," the man waved off. "Long before she became a queen worth a nationwide manhunt for. How's that going, by the way, prince Morgan?"

Morgan gasped, his thoughts immediately turning from jumping the wall to combat. "How'd you know who I am?" he asked suspiciously.

He couldn't see it clearly, but he was pretty sure the man raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You're running around dressed like a Plegian tactician with the Ylissean crown princess over there in Ferox and you're asking me how I know who you are?" he asked, thumbing back the way they came.

Suddenly embarrassed, Morgan covered for himself by opening his elwind tome once more and thumbing through the pages for a moment. He'd forgotten that Lucina's face and outfit struck perhaps the only more popular figure in the world than the queen herself. "Well, try not to make a big deal out of it," the tactician requested. "And please stand back. I've no desire to hurt you."

"What's anonymity worth to you?" the man replied instantly, rubbing his hands together.

Without missing a beat Morgan had tossed a small sack of gold into the man's hand. He'd been saving it for the next time Anna visited the castle, but he could always cut the difference out of Ylisse's budget if things got desperate. "Whatever's in there. Now please back away. Final warning."

The merchant's eyes widened as he looked in the sack. "I love rich people. Not that there's any who would give this town their refined company, of course. Good day!" With a wink Morgan couldn't see and a condescending wave, the man retreated to his wagon.

Morgan's initial excitement to try jumping over the gate had waned. Somehow, knowing that someone had seen and approved of his actions made them less enthralling. The tactician shook his head to himself. "No, it's not just for that. If something's going on, we need to know about it. I can't back out just because it's boring. That's not what mother would do." With that determined, Morgan focused himself, switched to an arcwind tome and jumped for the gate. Only after he landed face first in the snow did he realize that he probably should have aimed the second blast downwards.

Though Lucina had expected Morgan's battle strategy to involve running off and trying something absurd, she still felt an ache for his presence as she scanned the crowd for an optimal infiltration route. Various grievances and profanities were being hurled at the guards regarding the quality of the goods going to waste and the impact the delays had on the economy. While such a fervor was not foreign to Lucina, the cause certainly was. In her time, people usually waited until food for the day had run out to get this worked up about anything. The princess shoved the thought aside, resting her hand on the hilt of Falchion to calm herself as Laurent approached from behind her with three horse's stirrups in hand. "I cannot follow you if you decide to rush in sword drawn," he advised her. "For this situation I would recommend-"

Laurent's advice was drowned out by the wind that had been blowing lightly all morning suddenly gusting heavily. A few merchants were knocked off balance and several horses were startled, the crowd devolving into a disorganized clamor as everyone sought to verify the integrity of their goods. Lucina reminded herself to chastise Morgan for his definition of acceptable tactics as she took the opportunity to dart into the crowd. The disturbance had given her just enough of a crack in the wall of people to push through to the front where the two guards were observing the chaos impassively. "No entry yet. Wait with the others," the guard nearest Lucina warned gruffly.

Badly dented armor that looked like it hadn't been polished since it was first donned told Lucina that she wasn't dealing with the sort of greenhorns she'd grown used to seeing in the wake of Ylisse's reconstruction. These soldiers had seen plenty of action by the way they gripped their lances, the way their eyes identified Lucina as something more than a disgruntled merchant with a sword. Their presence told Lucina more about the importance of the town to the Feroxi than any wall could and inspired her to switch from her initial plan of intimidation through them recognizing her on sight to diplomacy. "My apologies, sir. I come on behalf of Khan Flavia regarding the investigation into the Ylissean queen's disappearance. The Khan has also requested that we get the leader of yours and neighboring towns to sign off on some tax adjustments for the restoration of Ferox's economic strength." Lucina presented a small paper the khan had barely remembered to scribble a note for them on minutes before they departed for their mission. "This document will validate my claims. May I ask why you have closed the gate in the meantime?"

The guard who had spoken stepped forward and took the paper, reading over the chicken scratch that passed for Flavia's handwriting before returning the document to Lucina with a heavy sigh. "She never does things the right way anymore. Sorry, miss. If the khan had sent word ahead we could have prepared more adequately for you. We can't open at the moment because one of our inns burned down overnight and we're still cleaning up the debris, making sure that the area is safe and all. Once we're done, we'll see you and your party in personally."

It wasn't a great compromise, but there wasn't much more Lucina could do that wouldn't get them arrested or at least questioned. She nodded in thanks to the guard and was about to return to Laurent before the other guard spoke up. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be the exalt's kid, would you?" he asked in a much deeper voice than his friend.

Glancing back, Lucina was at first tempted to lie, instincts from a future where the royal bloodline was hunted to near extinction taking over for a moment. When she felt she had control of herself, she nodded once more. "That's correct. Why do you ask?"

"Knew it," the man grinned. "It's an honor to have a champion like you in our midst, princess Lucina. I fought in the war with Valm, got to see your work up close and personal a few times. I hope you find what you're looking for here."

Relieved, Lucina almost smiled in return before catching herself and compromising with a curt word of thanks. Before she could embarrass herself, the princess retreated through the merchants as they began to reorganize. Having everyone call her the exalt's daughter only reminded her that that title didn't belong to her in this world. She'd given up on correcting people, but it still bothered her in a way she couldn't quite put into words when it came from a new face. "I cannot fathom why you would observe any difference between playing the persona of a crown princess and that of a hero king," Laurent commented as Lucina approached. "If anything, this role should suit you more naturally."

"That's exactly why I don't like playing it," Lucina countered. "It's too close to the truth. Nobody believed Marth was who they said they were. Everyone looks at me when I say I'm Lucina, crown princess of Ylisse, and accepts it in spite of knowing father's age in this time."

Laurent adjusted his glasses, observing the crowd for a moment as he absorbed Lucina's concerns. "I do not believe it is the title you hold that they respect, rather your deeds in wartime. The Feroxi are anything but courteous to nobility. That, at least, is no persona of yours, correct?"

"I suppose not," Lucina responded unconvincingly. "Perhaps I take the hospitality of the reigning Khans to our royal family for granted too often."

"Indeed."

There was a silence between the two for a time as they watched the rancor grow between the merchants and the guards. Without Morgan to fill the gap, it seemed as though conversation had suddenly become impossible to start. Laurent sat against the tree he'd tied the horses to, allowing himself rest for the first time since they'd started marching. Lucina wanted to give him some words of appreciation for persisting in her and Morgan's search for so long, but she couldn't seem to find the right way to express herself once again. It was a pitiful problem for a crown princess to have, but her circumstances hadn't left much time for socializing. "Have you given my idea thought?" Laurent finally asked to break the silence, his hat resting on his lap.

Lucina shot the man a glance. "I've wanted to go back ever since the fell dragon drew its last breath," she admitted. "But I can't, not yet. Naga's words continue to plague me. If my mother can only be brought back by the will of her closest confidants, then it is not my place to leave until she returns."

"Loathe as I am to commit blasphemy, I do believe her advice was consolatory in nature," Laurent advised. "There is another world in the future that is currently without a ruler. Even though a few of the others have returned, their presence alone-"

"I know!" Lucina snapped, before looking away in shame. "I know, Laurent. Thank you for your concern, but I have lost my family once already. I would not wish that on my family in this world."

"And if Morgan chooses to stay in this world when the time comes?" Laurent pressed, unwilling to allow the conversation to die so easily. "From his perspective, he is a hero who saved the world here. If Robin returns, his past is here too. There's little reason for him to depart from this timeline. His innocence would likely not survive the trip even if we were to somehow cajole him into joining us. It would not bring back the Morgan we came to know in our time."

The princess hesitated, her eyes scanning the scene in front of her like Morgan could appear any moment. "I know. Ever since he came back, I've known that he wasn't the same person. Even without the memory loss, that likely would have been true. You changed a lot in the years you spent in this time ahead of us."

Nodding his head from his seat caused Laurent's face to briefly disappear into his hat for an instant. "I cannot deny that. Survival necessitated adaptation. For all his… quirks, I would lament the day Morgan chose to separate from us if it came."

"That won't be a problem until we find Lady Robin," Lucina decided with unwarranted certainty. "So there is no need to concern ourselves with this matter any longer."

As punctuation to her statement, a groaning sound signaled the opening of the town gate. A half-hearted cheer from the merchants at the door was drowned out by the rush of wagons and men through it. With no indication that Morgan was returning, Lucina and Laurent resigned themselves to waiting for the guards to wade through the flow of people to reach them as promised. By the time they'd been escorted in and pointed towards where they could find the local leadership in town, Lucina had had enough. "Alright, come out," she declared loudly enough to draw a few looks from passerby.

For a brief moment, nothing happened, then Morgan's head popped out of a nearby snowbank. "What gave me away?" he complained. "Not even the guards noticed me in here." This statement was self-evident by the way every nearby guard jumped at his sudden appearance.

"What have you learned?" Lucina asked instead of explaining that she'd been startled enough times by Morgan's tricks to know when he was planning to act like a little brother.

Morgan pointed to the town behind him as he rose to his full height, bits of snow clinging to his hair and coat as his gaze roved around. "Not much. Apparently an inn burned down and they needed to clear the way before everyone could be let in. The town has thirteen active guardsmen with one acting captain and a population of I estimate about a few hundred, give or take. The merchants that come through this town use this place as a rest point and they're upset that some of the lodging space is now gone. Uh, plenty of taverns and inn-type places, but not many stores because most merchants will set up shop in the plaza up ahead. Nothing that would keep anyone here for more than a day or two. Oh, but the rubble is pretty interesting. Definitely came from a magical fire. Wanna take a look?"

Lucina nodded approvingly as she brushed the snow away from the prince's outfit with one hand. "Good. But what did we talk about?"

"About what, spying? This is reconnaissance, it's totally different. Come on, there's still some cinders burning if you wanna-"

"About using combat magic for unintended purposes," Lucina reminded her younger brother.

Guilt sprang onto Morgan's features as he realized his sister knew exactly how he'd gotten over the wall. "Do it when father isn't watching?"

Lucina shook her head as Laurent pinched the bridge of his nose. "Try again?"

"Oh come on, using arcwind to jump over a wall is a perfectly legitimate strategy! Mother did it all the time!"

"Mother had years of experience on you," Lucina reminded Morgan sharply. "And the war is over. We should be focused on our goal of finding the person wearing your coat, not scaring the locals."

"Haven't seen her," Morgan reported, saluting as he stepped back from his sister. "I had time to sweep the town briefly, though I haven't checked everyone personally yet. It's a nice place for a large village."

Lucina let a thin frown slip as she took a moment to take in their surroundings. It was certainly a quaint location for its supposed importance to Feroxi trade routes. Small houses perforated the landscape otherwise marked only by thin layers of snow and stone paths paved in better decades. A few larger buildings stuck out as Lucina looked deeper into the town, but the spacious central plaza left empty for stalls and merchant carts to set up made it clear what the primary function of Khad was. Even now the streams of merchants were beginning to fill the space up or prepare themselves for the journey to the port ahead. Some had already left Lucina's sight, the loss of time enough to inspire them to move on immediately. It gave her an almost wistful feeling, seeing so much life bustling around her while she stood still, lost in the moment in time she'd failed to protect. This was the future she'd been unable to protect in her time. "I wonder if we could ever have something like this again," she mused to herself.

"There will be time for that later," Laurent encouraged his friend, patting her firmly on the shoulder. "At present, further investigation is necessary. I can hardly believe someone adorned as suspiciously as Morgan would be difficult to locate." Morgan was fully prepared to respond indignantly to Laurent's comment when a new guard approached the trio.

"You the Ylisseans looking for that Plegian woman?" The man asked gruffy, the thin trail of smoke rising from the direction he'd come from causing Lucina's stomach to sink a little.

"That's us. Got some intel? See any evil deities in the area?" Morgan asked cheerfully.

The look Morgan received in response indicated that this guard wasn't paid enough to entertain the tactician's imagination. "Uh, yeah, look, I hate to be the one to have to tell you, but right now that lass is the only one accounted for after that fire. She was staying in the inn that burned down you see, and we're thinking that she might have gone down with it."

Contrary to the guard's expectations, the trio only appeared to be slightly concerned that their supposed target might have burned to a crisp. "You think she skipped town already?" Morgan guessed. "Or this is somehow her fault?"

"The former is far more likely," Lucina mused. "If anything, another party may be trying to locate her as well. There are many in Valm and Plegia that live cursing her name. We should-"

Lucina's plan was discarded by a shout from another guard running up to his comrade. "We found the body! Cordon off the area and establish a wider perimeter!"

At the word body all three Ylisseans had taken off, unwilling to trust anyone's eyes but their own. To the first guard's credit, he didn't attempt to stop them, though he likely wouldn't have been able to. Never had Morgan's feet carried him faster than they did when that cry rang out. His friends were hot on his heels as they followed his path to the wreckage of the inn, ignoring indignant shouts from merchants and guards alike. Of course, there was essentially zero chance Robin could perish in such a pedestrian way as a building fire, but confirming it for themselves was simply the prudent thing to do in this situation. Rounding a final corner revealed a pile of burnt rubble Morgan was familiar with, though the small crowd of guards gathered around a single spot told all of them more than they needed to know. Shoving past the guards with strength that startled everyone into compliance for a moment, Morgan came face to face with the charred corpse of someone he didn't recognize. The woman's features were mostly burnt away, but what little hair remained attached on her body matched the distinct royal blue of his own hair rather than the bright white of his mother's. Everything else of their features that had survived all indicated someone far younger than Robin as well. Were Morgan given enough time, he might have noticed that the victim's build was much closer to his than his mother's as well. By the time he'd breathed a sigh of relief and signaled to his friends that it wasn't Robin, he'd been roughly pushed away by the largest guard in the area.

Morgan's adrenaline faded enough to take in the person who was now glaring at him, a burly woman wearing similar armor to her peers save for a gilded insignia on the right shoulder. Her fingers rested on the hilt of a sword as she stared at Morgan with disgust. "Didn't you Plegians learn any manners in that shithole country of yours? Even a toddler can tell this is a crime scene."

The prince didn't get the chance to explain himself before his friends finally caught up to him. "Morgan, you-" Lucina stopped herself as she took in the situation. "My apologies, ma'am, it seems my brother's impulsivity got the best of him. My name is Lucina. My comrades are here on official business from Khan Flavia regarding some tax arrangements the Khan is changing for Khad in addition to investigating the rumor about someone resembling the missing queen being sighted in the area."

The explanation rolled off of Lucina's tongue so easily Morgan had to double check that she hadn't been replaced. A onceover from the burly woman changed the look in her eyes from irritated to neutral as Morgan was helped up by Laurent. "So you're the Ylisseans from the war I was told about. Took your sweet time getting here, and now the mark you're looking for ate it. Fine work there."

Lucina bit her lip. "You mean-"

"It's not mother," Morgan interrupted before Lucina could do exactly what Morgan had done. "At least, I'm pretty sure. Whoever it is, their face is burned pretty bad, but her hair definitely isn't white. I didn't get a much better look."

"Wonder why that is?" the head guard scoffed. "We're not big on propriety here, but the least you could do is tell us your damn name before you start traipsing around like you own the place." Morgan immediately bowed, countless lectures from his mother and sister directed at him and his father giving him the precise tactic to employ in this situation.

Regardless of what land you're in, humble is always a good look.

"Of course, my apologies, ma'am. We are guests in this town seeking to investigate the veracity of a rumor that someone matching the missing Ylissean Queen's description was spotted in the area. Ferox's assistance in this manner is greatly appreciated."

The head guard only shook her head. "Just call me Colla, or better yet Captain Colla. And as I said, you're a day late. Your target is dead as a doorknob. Hey, Sam, she's dead, right?" One of the guards checked the pulse of the charred corpse before giving Colla a thumbs up. "See? Dead."

"What about the coat?" Morgan pressed. "She isn't wearing it, and I know for a fact that coat is fireproof."

"Kid, I'm much more concerned about finding whoever burned the damn inn down instead of whether the poor lass' fashion choices survived the fire. Some of these merchants are gonna throw a fit when we can't put them up for the night, and those complaints are gonna go straight to me."

"Then allow us to at least help clear the debris," Laurent offered, stepping forward. "If you'd have our assistance, we can aid in your cleaning efforts while searching for our objective simultaneously."

There was a suspicious look in Colla's eyes, but Morgan could see that she recognized the strength behind the eccentric bunch that had approached her. Regardless of any other lasting effects, war had made them all quite good at menial tasks. Lucina and Laurent wouldn't mention it, but this wasn't anywhere close to the first burnt down building they'd cleaned up either. Colla came to a similar conclusion. "Alright, fine. But don't remove anything from the site without my permission. And I'll be watching you, so don't do anything stupid."

With that decided, the trio set about helping clear the debris from the burned inn from town. As he worked, Morgan was able to properly take in the atmosphere of the town without the fear of death from discovery surrounding him. For a trading town, it didn't appear to be particularly large. Laurent's comment about the town being a waypoint more than anything was probably the reason for the small size, and the number of people definitely felt smaller still than what could be accommodated. The inn they were cleaning was one of several in the town, though it appeared as though only one of the inns had burned down. From chatting up the guards Morgan learned that the blaze had apparently started at dawn, but the source was yet to be established and only the quick actions of a local mage had put the flames out. Morgan made a mental note to discuss the matter further with this person as he cleared away more debris. The snow had begun to fall gently down again, though the manual labor was good for keeping Morgan warm enough to ignore the cold for now. How the Feroxi managed to keep from freezing to death was a mystery far more important to him than his lost memories.

As he began to lose hope that they'd find anything useful in the wreckage, Laurent suddenly spoke up. "Coat located!" He called out, summoning Lucina and Morgan to his side instantly along with a few curious guards.

Morgan glanced over Laurent's shoulder as he pulled the unmistakable sleeve of Robin's coat out of the rubble, identical to the very coat Morgan was wearing. It was the sole keepsake his mother had retained when she'd lost her own memories, an important heirloom to her that Morgan had apparently been entrusted with in the future when he came of age for it, and now it was covered in dirt and ash. As Laurent pulled out the sleeve, however, it became clear that the garment was attached to something. The rest of the coat had been wrapped around an object, as if to protect it from the fire. "This is her coat," Lucina muttered, almost in disbelief. "But why is it here, if that's not mother over there?"

"Something is inside the coat," Laurent pointed out, proceeding to unwrap the tightly bound package carefully.

After nearly a full minute of waiting for Laurent to finish struggling with the coat, two books were produced from the package. The first was simply an arcfire tome, but reading the title on the cover of the second caused Morgan's blood to run cold.

Morgan's Official Diary. DO NOT OPEN!