Chapter 7: Invisible Wounds

The weeks that followed were unbearable and numb. Robin moved through the palace without life in his soul, locking himself in his room when he did not have any pressing duties. Emmeryn had held a conference with everyone on the mission, but the young tactician had refused to attend. Chrom had knocked at his door before and after, but Robin did not answer.

It was strange- he felt filthy all the time, like some criminal. Since that night in the fortress, he had cast aside his tactician's cloak, even after it had been returned when the blood had been washed out. Every set of eyes he came into contact with in the castle only stared blankly at him, and each mouth could not find the words to say anything to him. It was a suffocating feeling, to be surrounded by all these people saying nothing.

In these weeks, Robin attempted to address the problem alone. There was no way Raven, his father, could possibly understand what he was going through. After all, the tactician had killed many others, be it for Ylisse or back when they were refugees.

There had been a time when Robin and Raven shared everything, but this… This felt like too much. First there had been that voice; that horrible, spine-chilling voice in his head, and now there was this. How could he even begin to explain this?

It felt like a sin to even utter the action allowed. Heroes and soldiers killed, yes, but so did criminals and villains. He had killed someone. Did that make him a criminal? Did that make him a villain?

It had never crossed his mind to ask his father or Chrom what it was like, but something just felt sickeningly wrong. Robin had always assumed that killing would be harder than it was- that the human body would put up more resistance. It had just felt so natural, like he had done something that terrible before. But that… That was impossible, right? The first few years of his childhood had been blocked out in his mind, but there was no way a child could commit such an awful crime.

No matter how much that possibility seemed implausible, it never left the back of his head. A nagging worm, the thought kept him up during the nights and unable to focus throughout the days. There was a brief period of time in his recovery where he went to see Emmeryn, but an emergency at the border caused her priorities to shift, and they were unable to meet. Even though he'd been dreading that encounter, part of the boy felt heavier somehow when it did not happen. He was by no means ready to spill his emotions to anyone, but something inside of his very core had accepted that Emmeryn would have to know sooner or later.

It was just that now, that would have to be later.

During that time, the royal children were there for him. Though he did not socialize or leave his room for quite some time, Chrom or Lissa would retrieve him meals throughout the day and leave them outside his door. Every now and then, there would be a handwritten note accompanying his food, and over time, Robin would start to play a game with himself where he would guess who had written it based on the handwriting. Most of the time, it was Lissa, but Chrom would always take care to sign it himself. Occasionally, Vaike and Miriel would write as well, which shocked the young tactician. He barely knew Vaike, and if he was being blunt, the other boy didn't seem… Very sentimental about much.

It was then that he was studying one of these notes after dinner when a soft knock came at his door. Visits had been less frequent, but Robin could recognize the knock from anywhere.

He hesitated, sitting at the edge of his bed like he had been frozen in place. Goosebumps littered his exposed arms, but it was not until the knock came again that he finally snapped out of his fear and stood. Each step towards the door was agony, and he kept repeating phrases of reassurance to himself until he placed a gloved hand on the key in his lock. Slowly, he turned and removed it, and breathed softly, "Please come in."

Almost immediately, his father opened the door and stepped inside, and Robin could tell that he hadn't been sleeping. Now that he thought about it, that's probably what the man thought when he looked at his son, for they both shared dark bags underneath their eyes.

Without saying a word, Raven closed the door behind him and sat at Robin's desk. The boy opened his mouth, but he reached out a hand to silence him. Robin lowered his gaze and returned to his bed, where his line of sight focused on the ground rather than his father.

"I'm not here to force you to talk about this," Raven began. "If that is what you need, then by all means, speak." A silence hung over the room as Robin slowly shook his head, but no sigh or sound of frustration escaped the older tactician. "Very well. Then I will get to the point. I'm sure you know that it has nearly been a month since you have isolated yourself in here, and despite everything that has happened, life has continued to go on for the rest of us. You are still a tactician, still my son, and the Halidom still needs you."

Robin flinched at the candor of his words, but the call to action made his gaze rise to meet his father's. "What are you asking of me?"

"Asking? Nothing, my boy. You are to pack your things immediately. Tomorrow at dawn, the two of us will be leaving on an assignment appointed by the Exalt herself. We are to go to the Plegian border and check on our pegasus knights and their efforts. It is a routine check and a small delivery, but the Exalt has asked me to take care of it." Raven folded his hands gently in his lap, and sadness crept into his voice when he spoke again. "It would mean the world to me if I could spend some time with my son again."

A grimace found its way onto the boy's face, his eyes squeezing shut as he sighed. "Father… Father I…"

"I know this is hard to be around anyone right now, especially me, but spending some time away from the castle will do you good."

He made a fair point there. Even though his room was his whole world as of late, it would be nice to slip away. He didn't want his actions to exist in the minds of his friends, yet when they saw him, how could they not see his actions? If he was gone, even for a little bit, maybe… Maybe they wouldn't think about the attack when they saw him.

"I promise you," Raven added, "that we can treat this as nothing but business if that is what you wish. I will not pry, I will not overstep. Ylisse is suffering without a second brilliant mind working in its ranks, and I know we'd all like to see him back as soon as possible." Raven's lips curved in a small smile and for once in what felt like forever, Robin smiled back.

"Thank you, Father… I appreciate that." He swallowed. "I guess you're right though- I have been gone awhile. I want to make this up to Chrom… To the Exalt. If I get back to my duties, maybe that will help."

Raven shook his head. "The only thing everyone wants to see from you is to see that you're doing better. Getting up and out is a good stepping stone down that path. So, are you with me?"

Better? How could he possibly be doing better? The word itself just felt infuriating to hear. Hiding his frustrations though, he nodded. "You said we leave at dawn? That doesn't give me much time to pack."

"No, no it doesn't," Raven chuckled as he stood. "The trip is three days at minimum. Don't worry about supplies- I will have that prepared. Anything you thing you may need is your concern." Another nod of affirmation encouraged Raven, and he headed to the door. Before he left however, he stopped and turned to lay eyes on his son once more.

"Father? What is it?"

He said nothing at first, as if going back and forth as to what he wanted to say. "Robin, I…" He took a soft breath. "This is not something that will go away overnight. Everyone else wants it to, and by the gods I wish you could be rid of this pain that quickly, but that is just not how this works. The road to your acceptance, your recovery… It is long and hard, but you can only move forward now. Whatever pace you choose to do so is up to you. No one else here will ever understand your exact path, and you don't have to tailor your recovery to suit anyone else. Please, do not forget that. Healing from these invisible wounds you now have will hurt immensely, but I believe you can do it. I am here for you if you need anything."

And with that, he was gone. As quickly as he had entered, he exited, and Robin was left sitting in his sleeveless shirt to process what had just happened.

Warmth gathered behind his eyes and his nose, and his throat throbbed. Unsure if Raven was still outside, he forced himself to choke back the sobs that were coming. After all, he had to prepare- there was no time to cry.

Yet there he sat for the next few minutes, embracing himself tightly as he wept at the thought of even beginning to heal.

Dawn came, and unlike other nights, Robin had managed to sleep somewhat before he saw the sky start to lighten through his window. He recalled weeping as he packed his clothes, and ultimately, he remembered falling asleep out of pure exhaustion on top of them. Fortunately, once he was awake, it did not take long to finish packing, but he hesitated when he realized he had not packed a cloak to wear. He turned his gaze to his tactician's garb, which was balled up in a corner of his floor.

He knew he wasn't ready to wear it again.

Begrudgingly, Robin returned to his wardrobe, where he pulled out a set of standard mage's garb. He wore this when training with the other casters in the palace like Miriel, and though it wasn't his favorite, it would certainly do instead of the alternative. Quickly, he dressed himself, leaving his hair down and messy as he grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulders.

Something about leaving just felt… Good.

After locking his room and placing the key with his things, Robin made his way upstairs to his father's chambers. The door was slightly ajar, but he still knocked softly as he entered.

"Are you ready to go?" came his father's voice. Raven was strapping a tome to his belt, but Robin could clearly see he already had everything else packed and ready.

"I am."

"Very well then," he said as he grabbed his cloak and threw it around his shoulders. "Let's head to the stables and be off. Lady Emmeryn has prepared us a pair of horses and all the camping equipment we will need."

The stables were not too far of a walk, even with their things. Morning had not yet hit most of the workers in the castle, and everything was perfectly quiet as they moved through the halls. The cold air of sunrise hit Robin even from inside, and when they reached the stables, he understood why. A thin layer of frost covered the ground outside, even though the spring was just beginning to fade into summer. Something about the oddity made him feel calmer, but perhaps the chill was just keeping him awake as they prepped their horses and set off.

Even though the morning air had awoken his body, Robin still needed several minutes to adjust his mind. His horse trotted at a decent pace alongside his father's, but they did not speak for quite some time. It felt nice just to ride and be free like this, and something about the tranquil, silent morning made Robin feel peaceful for the first time in ages. His hair blew in the wind, which made his ears sting from the cold a little, but he didn't care.

They rode on for about an hour before they came to a small river in the woods and stopped to let the horses drink. Robin dismounted, stretching his arms with a yawn. He could even see his exhale in the air.

"So, Father," Robin began, "last night you told me this was a standard check-in and a delivery. What is it are we delivering to the pegasus knights?"

"Nothing of immense import," Raven replied. "Even though it is quite some time from now, Lady Emmeryn's birthday is approaching. Phila, the current captain of the pegasus knights, is one of her closest friends. Now that the date has been set for the gala in the Exalt's honor, I have been instructed to coordinate with Phila as to when she will depart from her post to attend."

Robin frowned. "That seems like such a simple task. Why appoint you to do it?"

"You know how our borders have become an area of concern recently, don't you? Gangrel and the Plegian army are breathing upon the very necks of the pegasus knights, and we need to have a solid plan in place for their captain's absence. At the gala, everyone will be more exposed should assassins infiltrate, and that is not a risk we want to take. The Exalt deserves some peace during such a joyous occasion."

"It doesn't seem like she has many moments to breathe and enjoy herself, does it?"

Raven shook his head. "She does not. Even if the war is over, Gangrel is looking for any excuse to start it again. The Exalt had to grow into her role as a leader very, very quickly. That makes her a popular target for any kind of attack, and I know that fear eats away at her when no one else is looking."

A sigh left the boy's lips. "I don't blame her."

Continuing throughout the day, Robin felt himself open up more to his father. They spoke about tactics, mostly, but as they left the hills of Ylisse's flatlands and headed into the mountains, things felt like they were reaching an emotional head for the boy. In just the past several hours, he had smiled and even laughed- two things which he had sorely missed doing. Their conversation was changing from professional to personal, and Robin didn't mind one bit.

"So tell me, have your magic lessons been going well? Have you found the mages here to be satisfactory trainers?" Raven asked. "Have you, um, made any friends with the other students?"

Robin shook his head. "There aren't many students my age there. There's only one or two, and we don't talk much. My instructor is good though. I obviously haven't gone all that recently, but when I did, I enjoyed dueling a lot. I actually learned some very useful footwork that had Chrom all shaken up the next time we sparred!"

"That boy may be strong and skilled, but it takes him awhile to learn, doesn't it? I bet he went back to train later that night just to deal with your new moves the next day" Raven chuckled.

"He can be predictable sometimes, can't he?"

The two shared a soft laugh. "The two of you… You're quite close, aren't you?"

Robin shrugged. "I guess so. He's the closest thing I have to a friend, even if we didn't spend the past several years together as much as we could have."

"The closest thing you have to a friend?" Raven echoed. A twinge of sadness struck his voice.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that!" Robin clarified quickly. "I have friends! I just… I never connected with the knights or the other mages, and so while I'm sure I'm friends with them, it's just not the same. Lissa's probably the exception to that though… She's immature and draining to be around, but she's a good friend. Kind of like a little sister."

"Ah, I… See."

"You sound disappointed, Father."

"No, not at all!" Raven shook his head. "I'm very happy you've found your place in the castle. You do know that I worry though, don't you? I wouldn't say I'm one to have many friends either, but connections bind and strengthen us in ways that we can't do by ourselves. It was always a worry of mine when you were younger that you wouldn't be accepted because of your appearance or your heritage, and that really hasn't changed."

Robin grew quiet. He'd always wondered if it was because of his Plegian ancestry that he'd still get weird looks every now and again from the knights, but it was never a looming insecurity of his. "Well, Frederick doesn't particularly like me, but then again, he doesn't really like anyone. I've heard he doesn't even trust the knights he grew up with…"

"Ah, well, just as Lady Emmeryn had to grow up fast, so did young Frederick the Wary. He's much closer in age to the Exalt, and was even witness to several attempts on her life from other Ylisseans. They were outraged with her father's actions and demanded justice, which to them was bloodshed of the entire royal family," the man explained. "The world is a cruel place, especially to children who find themselves in power." His voice faltered as he spoke, and he averted his gaze away from his son. Robin did not notice, as he was trying to process what he had just heard.

"I had no idea…" he murmured. "Were these attempts before or after we came to Ylisse?"

"Some before, some after," Raven replied. "By the time we arrived, most of the attacks had shifted outward. Those still furious at the previous Exalt left Ylisse to live in the frigid north or Plegia, which I believe helped fuel some of the fires left over from that war. Many call Gangrel the Mad King but… Ylisse's former Exalt was not much better."

Robin was quiet. Though he had lived through some of the war his father spoke of, he had no recollection of anything that happened. He only had heard tales of the violence, the bloodshed, and the pain it caused both sides, which was more than enough to scare any child away from knowing more than he needed to.

Noticing his son's silence, Raven apologized. "I'm sorry if that topic isn't one you'd rather talk about right now. We can discuss something else, if you'd like?"

"No, no, it's okay," Robin reassured. "War happens. Death happens. I never really thought about any of that before, you know? And now that I think about it, it wouldn't be a terrible idea for me to study it in the future… After all, Plegia is once again our enemy. In order to fight an enemy, you have to know your enemy." He beamed at his father. "You were the one that taught me that."

"Yes, yes I did." Pride filled the tactician's eyes as his son recited that piece of wisdom, but behind that was a great sadness. Robin already knew his enemy more than anyone else ever could, but he might never quite know the insight he had. "I'm pleased you've retained something from our tactical training," he teased, trying to bury that thought once more.

Robin laughed. "What are you even talking about? I'm the best tactics student you've got- I know what I'm talking about!"
"You're the only tactics student I have. The bar is not set extremely high."

Robin gasped, mocking offense. "Father! How you hurt me so!"

Blissfully unaware, Raven thought. He shrugged and shook his head. "Well, night is approaching. Shall we make camp to rest? Perhaps your wound can heal during that time."

"Very funny," Robin muttered back, but he ultimately agreed. The sun was getting lower and lower in the sky, and if they were to start a fire for dinner, it would be better to do so before the light could potentially give away their position.

Though there weren't many flat areas on their trek through the mountains, the path they took was used commonly by Ylissean soldiers, and thus campsites had been dug out for any traveler who needed them. Upon finding one, Raven and Robin tied the horses and set up their tents and bedrolls with ease. The fire was not difficult to make with the use of a simple spell, and soon, Robin could look up from the flickering flames to see faint stars in the sky.

"I had no idea it was so peaceful out here," he remarked. Raven looked up from the dinner he was preparing over the fire, studying his son. Compared to the closed posture, slumped shoulders, and lowered eyes of the boy he'd talked with the night before, Robin looked like an entirely different person. He had hoped this excursion would lift his spirits, but he did not expect it to happen this quickly.

"Lots of Ylisseans think that the mountains and the Plegian desert are dry and uncomfortable, but they're really not," Raven responded. "Here, as we approach the border between our land and theirs, we're closer to the sky and the stars than ever. They are unobstructed from our view, so much so that when the night is at its peak, you can sometimes see the galaxy itself. That was… That was one of my favorite things about living in Plegia," he admitted softly.

Robin stared at him in awe. The galaxy itself? Was his father exaggerating? "What else did you enjoy about Plegia?"

The boy's question caught him off guard. "I didn't expect you to ask anything like that, well, ever, actually."

"I know I spent a lot of time in Plegia, but I don't remember a single thing about it," Robin confessed. "I guess… Part of me wants to know something good about where I come from."

"Something good? That's awfully vague… I'll certainly do my best." Raven rotated the meat cooking, thinking to himself about what he could even say. "Well, for one thing, part of Plegia borders the sea. When I was young, my mother and father would take me to stand and watch the sun rise and set as we stood on the shore. After that, I would practice my magic, and it was refreshing because there was so much room to move and try new things. In fact, the very beach I speak of is where I met your mother." A wistful sigh left his lips. "You've never seen the ocean, have you? I'll have to show you some day."

"My… My mother?" Robin echoed.

"Yes, your mother. She was a beautiful woman and a powerful mage, one that just garnered respect everywhere she walked. You have her eyes, you know."

Robin raised a gloved hand to his face, letting a finger gently graze one of his eyelids. "I… I never knew that. You never told me I looked anything like her."

"Well, you really don't," Raven mused. "You have my looks and my mind, but you have her eyes. Her mischievousness as well, as a matter of fact. That may be something you've grown out of for the most part, but the fact remains that it was a quality I very much saw in her. In fact, it was a quality of hers I very much loved.

Robin smiled, gaze returning to the fire. It crackled as the logs fueling it shifted, and a dozen red embers launched themselves into the air. "What…" he started softly. "What happened between the two of you?"

He was quiet for some time, but Robin did not apologize for asking. He recalled asking once before, when he was around nine or ten years old. His father had also gone quiet then, but he had halted the conversation by saying he'd tell the boy when he was older.

He was certainly older now.

After thinking and gathering his thoughts, his father finally answered. "She simply turned out to not be the woman I had fallen in love with."

"What does that mean?"

"It means what I said. I know I said I'd tell you when you were older, but I'm still not ready. Frankly, I don't believe you'd be ready either." Robin frowned, but Raven stopped him before he could say anything else. "She hurt you, Robin. Some things are better off forgotten, and the things she did to you are some of them."

It was all so vague, and it frustrated Robin immensely. He understood his father's logic, especially now, when he was recovering from crisis, but that didn't mean he agreed. "Why did she do it?"

Raven closed his eyes, a pained look on his face. "I wish I knew… I so wish I knew. Not all actions are rational, and hers were definitely not. When I found out, I did everything I could to get you out of there. When we ran, we fought, and I used powerful magic to protect you. It weakened the walls of the building she found us in, and just as the two of us made it out, everything collapsed. She was still inside. There was no way she could have survived."

Until that moment, he had not known his mother was dead. Robin took a deep breath, trying to process what he heard. He had never assumed she had passed, and yet, he never thought of her as still being alive.

He exhaled. "So, you… Did what you had to do. You killed her before she could have killed you."

"Yes," Raven said softly. "Before she killed either of us."

Robin looked from the fire to his own hands, which were resting gently in his lap. "You did… What you had to do."

"Yes, I di-" He paused, knowing that Robin wasn't asking about his mother any more. Raven saw him, his gaze so present and yet so distant. "Delivering death from my own hands was one of the hardest things I had learn to do. I have become numb to it. She was not my first, but she was the one that hurt me the most," he confessed. "I still think about it sometimes. Those few seconds from all those years ago replay in my head and I can't help but seize up. I remember so many details perfectly- like how you were crying, but only out of your right eye."

Without missing a beat, Robin asked "What else do you remember?"

"I remember… I had lost my shoes. There was a sharp rock lodged between my toes. And… the bell tower had just rung. It was early in the morning- it had chimed three times."

The boy shook his head in disbelief. "What strange things to remember…"

"You're telling me," his father agreed. "But… Trauma does strange things to us. It almost isn't fair what happens- and it's different for everyone."

"Last night," Robin said, "you told me that I have invisible wounds. You said that it would hurt for them to heal. How is it that you can talk so easily about something you did that wounded you?" Tears were starting to form in the boy's eyes, and once again, he tried to hold them back.

Seeing this, Raven adjusted the skewered meat, making sure it wouldn't fall over. He then stood and walked over to his son. He sat beside him, placing a hand gently on the boy's shoulder. "I have had something you have not: time. Wounds like these may never heal completely, but they do get better with time. Whether its anxiety, sadness, fear, regret, or something else entirely, each wound will have its own special way to heal. Right now, you're starting down the path towards that healing, and I could not be more proud or happy for you. Whatever it is you need right now or in the future, I am here with you. You do not have to heal alone."

Without warning, Robin threw himself into his father's arms, muting his sobs with Raven's body. Surprised, Raven felt his own eyes start to water, and he embraced the boy as tightly as he could without harming him.

"What's the point of healing if I'm only going to keep hurting?" Robin cried out in between sobs.

"Ah, what an excellent question that is," Raven said, laughing as he shook his head. His own tears soon ran down his face, but he continued to hold Robin without fail. "I think… No, I know that if you work to heal from this, that someday, when you realize that you still hurt, you'll find yourself a stronger man. And even though it still hurts, it hurts less, and you're actually… Happy again."

Robin sniffled. "Gods, what I wouldn't give to be happy again…"

"I know… There's nothing I wouldn't do to see you happy once more. You deserve to be happy, and you deserve to be free of this pain. I wish that for you more than anything else in the world, my precious boy."

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