Inspiration struck swiftly with this one! Can't remember the last time I was able to finish a chapter this quickly. I hope you all enjoy it!


Interlude: Those Who See Him

-Virion-

At times like these, I remember Roseanne. And I think to myself: 'Virion, you were right to leave. Right to deny your homeland to war's grasping clutches.' For war is ever an insatiable thing, and even now, as spirits are broken and the battle is lost, the war rages on. The lack of logic is ever sickening to me; not one soul upon this battlefield still has the will to fight. And yet as I watch on from my vantage point still they clash, until the ground is as soaked from blood as it is from this heavy rain that seeps its way to my very bones.

I have never been the most religious of men, but at times like these even the most faithless of men could not help but believe in a higher power. Why else would the skies have chosen this of all moments to weep countless tears upon this barren land? Indeed, if the gods are watching then they must surely be crying. How could they not, upon seeing such wanton cruelty. And even more upon seeing an incredible beauty ripped so cruelly from this world.

And Emmeryn was a beauty like no other; of that there can be no doubt. To watch her death was to watch the very sun fall from the sky. No, even the sun could not compare, for her golden hair held all of its radiance, her smile all of its warmth, and yet she holds none of the sun's cruel flame. She was all of the goodness of a summer day, and the world is colder for her absence.

Yes, the gods must have felt this rain appropriate indeed.

"Virion! Have you spotted them?" I hear the call of our good tactician from below. He looks up anxiously, watching me as I perch far above the battlefield.

Ah yes. How easy it is to forget that I stand up here for more than idle poetry. How fortunate then, my eyes are honed enough that I may sight what I need to even through this terrible weather. The sheen of water upon scales would be hard to spot for a lesser man, but one of my peerless training can count them as easily as even the most well-trained of Pegasus Knights.

"Cordelia's hunch was correct, I'm afraid." I raise my voice to be heard over the rain. "There are wyverns hiding in the cliffs. The enemy General's tactics are not as nearly as soft as his temperament."

"And our sleds?"

A considerably easier thing to ascertain. Maribelle's brightly colored clothing stands out even in this weather, a vibrant flower standing tall on this dark night, even from such a great distance. "Untouched, exactly as promised. Mustafa was as good as his word. Our most critically wounded shall reach Ferox untouched."

"Thank Naga for small blessings." Robin mutters. "Alright Virion, you can come down from there."

I waste little time in doing so. While the perch is ideal for one of my skills, in this weather it does more harm than good. Stone formations such as the one I've been watching from are the most reliable way to find high ground from which to survey the battlefield, but the water makes them treacherous. I have to be exceptionally careful not to slip on the way down for fear of breaking my neck.

I rejoin our sodden, sullen group, taking position at Robin's side. With me are but a small selection of the Shepherds, those who remained with our tactician rather than joining Chrom in his reckless charge. Donnel, Lon'qu, and Gregor, as well as the ever lovely Cordelia, Panne, Anna, and Miriel. And of course, our newest addition Tharja, whose dark beauty rivals even the most breathtaking of women I have seen in my life. It is to Tharja I direct my most immediate attention upon reaching the others, "It would seem General Mustafa is every bit the man you claimed. With the sleds passing freely there will be hope for those poor souls yet."

"And not a bit of hope for the rest of us." Tharja replies in a tone dry enough to make the rain feel lighter. "As soon as he springs that trap of his half your army is going to be torn apart, and the Prince will be right in the middle of it." She curls over miserably, clutching her hands to her head as she mutters under her breath, "Why did I think this was a good idea? Being with the Grimleal may have been miserable, but at least I wasn't likely to be ripped apart by wyverns any time soon!"

"It will be alright." Robin says confidently as he places a supportive hand on Tharja's shoulder. "Now that we know this trap is coming we can turn it against them easily enough. Their air advantage won't be nearly as useful in this weather; wyverns aren't fond of cold weather."

He's quite right in that regard, though I can't help but wonder how he can say this with such certainty. He's only fought wyverns on three occasions, and always in fair weather. The result of his studying, perhaps? Or…

I eye the markings on our good tactician's ever present coat. There has been more than enough conflict with the Grimleal as of late for the similarities in fashion between the cultists and Robin to be confirmed several times over. Perhaps his memories of his homeland are more complete than even he knows…

Well, no matter. His origins aside, Robin is a good friend, and more importantly, possesses a tactical mind to eclipse even my own. I trust him as a person, and need him as a strategist. His old alliances are irrelevant in comparison to his usefulness. Grimleal or not, he will be essential to my goals in the years to come…

But that is neither here nor there. I refocus myself as Robin lays out the plan, an elegant thing making full use of our superior magical power. If it works it will tear Mustafa's army apart, turning the unusual terrain here against them. "Such a shame Nowi couldn't be here." I muse, "Her powers would be ideal for such a plan."

"It couldn't be helped." Robin replies. "She's the best at driving those sleds in our army. We needed her to get Lissa out of here."

And isn't that a tragedy fit to rend one's heart? Poor Lissa was wracked enough with grief that she could barely serve as a healer. The dear girl has been hurt deeply by this war. Sending her with the injured was as much a mercy as it was a bid to make sure at least one of the Ylissean royal family escaped unscathed. If Robin's efforts to save Chrom from his reckless rampage fail to work she could be Ylisse's only hope.

"This would be simpler if you man-spawn would not act such fools." Panne snaps irritably, glaring out towards the sounds of battle to the north. "That enemy leader could perhaps have been reasoned with had Chrom not rushed in recklessly."

The others shuffle uncomfortably, but say nothing. Many, I'm sure, feel the urge to speak up on Chrom's behalf. As the noble General Mustafa said at the start of this encounter, the prince's rage is entirely justified. But not one of the Shepherds is so crass as to argue with Panne on the subject of lost family. For there are none more familiar with loss than her. My own hardships are nothing in comparison. "You are quite right of course, Panne." I say softly. "As always your wisdom outshines us all. Regardless though, we must not spend precious time speaking of hypotheticals and instead focus on the situation we are presented with."

Panne's gaze fixes on me, as inscrutable and beautiful in its intensity as always, and she gives me the smallest of nods. "This is true. We must move quickly if we are to prevent the Prince's foolishness from leading to yet more deaths."

"Like Lady Emmeryn." Donnel says sadly, "Or Mister Benjamin."

Eyes are cast downwards by several in the group at this, though Cordelia is quick to step forward. "Ben isn't dead. I told you all before, I saw his retreat signal."

She's brought this up several times in the past few hours, in fact. Telling it to all who listen, though some might wonder who the fair lady is truly trying to convince. If she is looking to convince our fellow Shepherds, she is having very little success. Panne and Miriel, ever practical in nature, have denied the claims from the start. Others, like Donnel and Sumia, do not dare to hope. The only one who seems inclined to believe is Tharja, though that belief may well be based in fear.

As for myself…

"Why will nobody believe me? Virion, you saw it as well, right? Tell them!" Cordelia turns to me desperately, and in so doing, draws the eyes of everyone else in the group.

Normally I would feel right at home with so many eyes upon me, but in this case it is a decidedly uncomfortable experience. My hope for Ben's survival is as slim as most, but with Cordelia's desperate hope comes a stirring in my heart that I am powerless to deny. "But of course!" I reply with a confident smile. "I have little doubt that my good friend is doing everything in his power to reunite with us as we speak. This is hardly the first time the odds have been against him, no?"

I have always been a sucker for a pretty face. And Cordelia has an astoundingly beautiful face. I cannot bear to deny her, even knowing she has eyes only for one man. The destination of her gaze has changed but once in the time I have known her, and I would not expect to see it shift again. Unless of course my hope should prove false…

That is not a possibility I raise to the others though. They are more than aware of it already. Even with my support Cordelia has failed to sway those present. Their uncertainty is still there, their resignation. Desperate hope cannot shift the weight of their current despair.

In the end it is Gregor, who has been watching everything thoughtfully, to step forward. "The frilly one is being correct! Ben is not fighting long, but is being very good at living anyways. Gregor can always tell with these things. So let us be making nice path for him to be following, yes?"

The others nod at this, emboldened, and move to enact Robin's plan, following Gregor's lead until only Robin and I remain, staring grimly out into the rain.

"Virion." Robin asks quietly, "Did you really see a signal like Cordelia said?"

"I'm… not certain." I reply. "I might have seen a yellow signal, but it could just as easily have been a stray thunder spell or a bolt from that vile King's sword. And even if I did see one, it hardly means that Ben was truly capable of escaping. Still, I could not bear to crush fair Cordelia's hope. Not when I am still clinging to hope myself."

Robin runs a hand through his hair, sending raindrops flying. "Damn it all. Emmeryn, Ben, that war priest Libra, all the countless Feroxi soldiers, and who knows if Ricken will pull through. I will carry this failure for the rest of my life."

"Time enough for regrets later, my good man." I clap a hand to Robin's shoulder. "Our fight is not over until we have escaped this terrible land. You may focus on how to improve when we are safe in Ferox."

Robin nods. "Right you are. For now, we need only do as Gregor said. Clear a path through our opponents. And perhaps to hope that Ben will follow us."

"Whether he does or does not, our task remains the same." I nod, looking back in the direction of the battle still taking place behind us, as Mustafa and the Feroxi army cover our retreat. Could Ben truly be following us through that?

Well, it is certainly possible. Ben may lag behind Robin and I in battlefield strategy, but he is certainly no fool. Indeed, when he puts his mind to survival he outshines me by far. That talent he has for creative thinking and twisted logic may very well carry him to safety once more. I hope it does.

He is, much like Robin, a dear friend… as well as a valuable pawn.

-Libra-

"Quickly now, milady! Not much farther to go until we're out of the city!" I call in an urgent whisper, peering out into the city streets. The presence of the royal guard earlier seems to have driven most people into the shadows, none willing to risk drawing the attention of Gangrel's personal soldiers. Only the truly desperate, like myself and Lady Emmeryn, dare brave these silent streets.

I adjust my pack as the Exalt approaches, trying to compensate for the additional weight. For all the misgivings I have about Ben right now, I can't help but be impressed by his preparation. There were ample supplies for travelling in the desert at his safe house, no doubt acquired by his dark mage friend. No doubt I would take issue with the supplies were I to learn how they came to be there, but that is not something I can afford to dwell on. Without these goods we'd be dead not a week out of Dolgrim.

It takes effort to hide my troubled expression as The Exalt approaches, but she seems largely too weary to notice either way. "Are you certain?" Emmeryn asks, panting for breath. "How can you be sure you're heading in the right direction? These roads are like a maze…"

I point back the way we came, where a massive plume of smoke is rising over the city. "Because I'll bet anything that smoke is caused by Ben, and he said he was heading east. Unlike us, he has a guide to get him through this city. So if we keep moving in the opposite direction he's ruining things in we should emerge from the slums on the west side of the city."

"That makes sense." Emmeryn nods, looking calmer. "It is good to have your guidance, Libra."

"Always, milady." I give her a reassuring smile. "Now, let's hurry. The sooner we are away from this place the sooner we can head north."

"North?" Emmeryn frowns. She stops following me for a moment and looks back to the smoke rising behind us. Thinking of Ben's words, no doubt.

"Strike it from your mind, Exalt." I plead, frustrated to see her even consider the actions of the man who was once my friend. "His words are poisoned and he has no power to stop us returning to your family."

"Are they poisoned?" Emmeryn says softly, turning to face me. "I am… unsure. Certainly his words hurt me in a way none ever have, but I cannot help but wonder if that may be because some part of them rang true in my mind. If my motivations aren't driven by ego more than love. If I may truly be unsuited for the role of Exalt."

A treacherous part of my mind agrees with that assessment and is violently silenced with a thought. Is Emmeryn a skilled politician? Perhaps not, but in my mind that makes her all the more essential to Ylisse. "No. Surely you aren't suggesting that you were wrong to pursue peace?"

"Not to pursue peace, no…" Emmeryn muses. "But perhaps… I was wrong in how I went about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Ben has told me that I am unsuited for politics. And after all that has happened, I can't help but feel that he may be right." Lady Emmeryn raises her head, and marches past me, down the alley. "So… perhaps I shall find another way to stand for what I believe in. Leave the role of Exalt to Chrom as he suggested, and forge my own path."

A part of me is worried at how much stock Lady Emmeryn is placing in Ben's words. But a greater part still is gladdened. I'm happy to see her standing tall after what happened. After Ben used his cruel words to tear her down and break her. He wished to stop her from interfering in things; to take her will and crush it so that she may heed his wishes and hide from the world until he said not to. He has hurt her; indeed he dealt to Emmeryn a more harmful blow than even King Gangrel could. But it would seem he failed to stop her. Even his destructive actions have failed to break Emmeryn's mighty spirit.

"What then, would you have us do Lady Exalt?" I ask.

"Not Exalt. Not any longer. In this alone I shall trust Ben's words. I thought of the title as a crutch once, but now that I am free of it I find it to have been a shackle. Without it I am free to help all who need it, rather than forcing myself to hold back due to old conflicts, or nationality. And I shall start across the ocean. In the lands of Valentia. Or Valm, as I suppose they are now called."

"Why there?"

"A comment Ben made. He asked what I would do should the armies of Valm cross the oceans and attempt to take over Ylisse. Knowing what we now do about him, I can't help but think…"

I pick up on her meaning immediately. "It was more than just a hypothetical. He said it because he thinks it may actually happen!"

"It's certainly possible." Emmeryn says, giving me a sly smile. "And now that the possibility is in my mind, I find myself wanting to go there beforehand… and see what happens if I talk to them."

I can't help but chuckle. "You seem to be showing something of a bitter side."

"I don't know what you mean!" Emmeryn replies coolly. "I'm staying away from Ylisse exactly as Ben asked. And should I happen to prove him woefully wrong while doing so, then that is a happy coincidence."

I find myself immediately inclined to agree with her, but the faintest of doubts lingers. "…And if this should disrupt Ben's knowledge of the future? I do not mean to imply that I approve of his methods, but if he is right…"

"I meant what I said before." Emmeryn replies, meeting my eyes with a gaze soft as silk and more determined than the most stalwart of warriors. "I will end suffering wherever I see it. I refuse to believe that such darkness as he describes could come of compassion and kindness. If Ben says that good actions are fated to bring evil onto the world, then I challenge that fate."

"And I shall challenge it with you, milady." I reply without hesitation, heart full to burst, doubts erased by the radiance of her hope. "Let us go to Valm then, and show all there a way beyond war and hatred."

Emmeryn's smile falters a bit at this. "You're sure? I can make my own way if you wish to return to Ylisstol. I know you have family there."

That brings me pause, but only for a moment. "I'm sure. Felicity will be sad to hear of my departure, but she has long had strength of spirit well beyond my own. This… this is what I am meant to do. I can feel it in my very soul, Emmeryn. The fellow monks and clerics whose sacrifice carried me to your side, this is what they died for. That I may be here, in this moment, to stand by you as guardian and aid in your good work."

"Then I am gladdened to have you." Emmeryn beams, coming to a stop as we suddenly run out of road. "Oh! It would seem we have emerged from the slums."

"And not a guard in sight." I note, scanning the skies for wyvern riders. "Let us be off, quickly. We'll head north, around the cliffs, to refill our water upstream of the city. After that we can head westward. Plegia has no shortage of port cities, and they do frequent trade with Valm. It should be easy to arrange passage across the sea."

"And once we're there?" Emmeryn asks curiously.

"We start the good work." I smile at her. "We could start in Roseanne, perhaps. I have relatives there. We do not speak often, but they may still be willing to give us shelter for a time."

The possibility isn't much, but it does provide for a slim margin of hope. One that both Emmeryn and I seize upon fervently. The two of us will need to keep our spirits up if we are to safely cross this desert. I can only imagine the sight we must look like already. Me with my axe and Emmeryn with my staff, both absolutely filthy before we've even entered the desert. Perhaps we should take some time to wash when we're refilling our water.

Either way, our path is clear now. Our minds made up. We will go to Valm, and do Naga's work. And we will not let any King, Conqueror, Dragon… or traitor stop us.

-King Gangrel-

The messenger looks fit to burst into tears at any moment, trembling in his boots as he kneels at my feet. Never a good sign. For all the good work that has happened today, the twilight hours of what should have been my greatest of victories have been filled with nothing but misfortune. And now this quivering craven has come with yet more bad news to add to the lot.

"Quit your mewling and speak." I snarl, making my contempt clear.

"Milord, I-I regret to inform you that… General Mustafa has failed. The Ylissean forces collapsed the cliffs of The Midmire upon his forces and cut through them while they were isolated."

"Hmph. That damnable tactician of theirs is as vexingly resourceful as ever." I muse with a scowl. "No matter. Let them run with their tail between their legs. It's not worth pursuing. Chase too far and we'll be throwing ourselves against that damnable wall. Send word to the General. He is to regroup and bolster our defenses."

The messenger goes a ghostly shade of white at that, and he sways as if about to faint. "Forgive me, my king, but I-I cannot do that. General Mustafa is… he's dead, milord!"

He throws himself to the floor and loudly grovels for his life. I pay him no mind, signalling the guards to remove him from my presence with a gesture. I turn to those of my court currently present, mind racing. "Send word to the General's lieutenants, I want to know what the hell happened out there, and if they dare send another babbling fool to regale me I'll have their heads on pikes!"

They scramble into action, rightfully terrified for their miserable lives, and I'm left with a moment to think. This should have been my crowning moment! Instead I've lost two highly valuable generals in Campari and Mustafa, that Ylissean Butcher is running rampant through Dolgrim, the Grimleal have reportedly misplaced one of their most dangerous Dark Mages in addition to their pet lunatic I narrowly failed to put down, and all I have to show for it is a blackened corpse wearing a few scraps of gold!

And as if that wasn't bad enough, that witch Aversa had the audacity to send those damn Deadlords parading around, as if to flaunt them in my face. The Grimleal are a thorn in my side at the best of times, but now I find they have access to monsters like that. Hell, they have enough access that they can throw two of them away without a care in the world!

It's past time the Grimleal met its end. For all the resources they provide they have too much political and military power to be allowed to survive. Especially with Mustafa dead. The General may have been far too soft for his own good, but he had charisma enough that the people loved him. And that popularity would have made things considerably easier when the time came for Plegia to be… restructured. Mustafa may not have cared for my methods, but I had ways to persuade him. And even he could agree that I am a preferable option to the Grimleal (if only slightly). Without his support I have far less sway to make the changes I need to, with the need for those changes now all the greater.

Thankfully there remains an easy way to get the people's support. A certain monster running loose that has the people of Dolgrim cowering in their homes this very moment. What trust I have lost this day will be easily regained should I kill the Butcher…

"Rally all of my remaining guards at once and have them prepare to take to the streets." I snap, moving to retrieve my sword. "I'm going hunting."

There's a panicked murmuring amongst the feckless imbeciles of my court. "But… milord." One ventures hesitantly. "You haven't fully recovered from the injuries that Dark Mage inflicted. Surely your guard will suffice?"

"Ah, but is that not the duty of a King?" I reply cynically. "To step forward in times of hardship? My people are in danger, and I will make sure they know exactly who comes to save them."

I saw what the Butcher was capable of when he fought that Deadlord. He's strong enough, as soldiers go. Rare to see one who can make proper use of weapons and magic in battle without a tool like mine. But for all the rumors surrounding him, there's nothing truly special. Compared to that Dark Mage boy killing him should be a simple matter.

It takes very little time to find the Butcher in the streets of Dolgrim. I should like to say this was expected, with so many of my guard pursuing him. But my rotten luck seems to persist even still.

The Butcher wanted to be found. He stands in the main road, surrounded by the royal guard. But rather than being perforated with spears from all sides as I would prefer the man stands tall, practically unscathed, with spellbook in hand. The guards that should have him cornered are on their knees, heads bowed to the ground and arms tethered with shadows.

"Hello King Gangrel." He calls out, his voice easily carrying through the streets. "I had heard you were coming."

"Ben the Butcher." I reply, eyes darting about the road as I assess my guards. None dead yet, though depending on how this goes I may have them wishing they were by the end of the night. A variation of the shadow binding spells the Dark Mages are fond of using in their experiments. Could the man truly have done this? "If you think I'll be cowed by a few hostages I'm sorry to say you clearly don't know me very well."

"Oh, I know well enough that you consider these men and women expendable." He says with a shrug. "We're quite alike in that regard, I think."

The air is filled with groans of terror as the captives bemoan their fate. Those soldiers who accompanied me here shift uneasily, wishing to shrink away at the sight and sound of their comrades. It would seem the binding is lacking its silencing effect by design. "One must wonder then, what you are hoping to accomplish with this. You have no cards to play here, and we both know that strong as you are, you are no match for me."

"Is that what you think?" He chuckles darkly. His book glows white as he raises a hand, and suddenly the same dark tendrils erupt from the ground to snare the guard's I've brought. Several grab for me as well, and while it's a simple enough matter to shrug aside those that try to cling to my arms and legs, several clutch at my cloak as well, catching me enough to keep my off balance. Foolish! I should have known not to bring my cloak to a battle.

"I have power beyond what you can possibly imagine, King." He says with a sneer. "Do you think me a simple soldier? No, I've become much more than that. I have come to be your vengeance, Gangrel. I am the monster who keeps your people up at night, and you have angered me."

The darkness deepens around him as he says this, and several guards burst into tears. I make a mental note to have them flogged once this is over, even as I watch the Butcher closely. Whatever the hell he's casting, it certainly isn't the spell trying to drag me to the ground right now. The man is… fine, as mages go, but he doesn't have the firepower or the training for something like this. It would take a prodigy… like perhaps the prodigy of a Dark Mage that went rogue in a rather spectacular fashion earlier today.

"You pitiful, spiteful creature." He spits, pacing around his little area as he glares down at the soldiers. "So hopelessly twisted that you haven't even the faintest idea of what the world has lost this day. The Exalt was worth more than all of you combined, by far! There aren't enough lives in Plegia to equal her. But I'm willing to start here." He grins savagely, stepping forward to place the heel of his boot on the head of a whimpering man in front of him. The hand not holding his spellbook crackles with electricity.

The royal guard of Plegia seem to be vulnerable to mob mentalities at the moment, as it only takes one of the useless imbeciles to start begging before everyone is doing it. The noise is cacophonous and pitiful, frankly a complete embarrassment to the royal guard. Were I not presently as trapped as them, I'd be making an example of whichever mewling imbecile started this disgraceful performance.

After a few moments in which the guard is making enough of a racket that it's impossible to hear my own thoughts, Ben bellows over them all. "ENOUGH!" He gestures again, and the dark tendrils reach up slowly to cling to the mouths of the worst offenders. The courtyard becomes, not quiet, but certainly more subdued than it was, as people fall silent.

"DID EMMERYN WEEP AS YOU SAVAGES HOWLED FOR HER BLOOD?" He roars, grinding his foot, as well as the blubbering guard beneath it, into the ground. "SHE DID NOT! SHE STOOD TALL! SHE CALLED FOR PEACE TO HER DYING BREATH AND YOU MURDERED HER FOR IT! SO TELL ME THEN WHY I SHOULD NOT DO THE SAME TO YOU!"

Ah, so that's his game. I open my mouth to snap back a retort, but a feeling like ice running down my throat tells me that I've been muted as well. More and more shadowy tendrils are reaching up to cling to me now that I'm partly caught, and I find myself struggling just to retain what little control of my body remains. That'll teach me to take the 'wait and see' approach. I need to move quickly, before-

"Nobody?" The Butcher calls out. "Do none of you have a reason?" He looks around at the guards, and takes his foot from the head of the idiot before him. "Then I will tell you a reason: Emmeryn would not have wanted it."

Damn! There he goes.

"If it were up to me, I would gladly pull every damn one of you limb from limb for what you did today. Even now I'm tempted. Blood for blood! Just as it has always been between our countries! Yet as I stand here with your lives in my hands, I remember her final words! And… I realize that she would never forgive me were I to do this thing."

Damn him! It's all little more than trite nonsense, but to these bawling fools that will be more than enough! They were already clinging to every word he said out of sheer goddamn terror! I reach for my sword, straining against the hold of the shadows. They've properly grasped me now, but I find it simple enough to fight it. Clearly holding this many people has stretched even that brat Henry thin.

"I've decided. She asked that we all make a difference. So this is where I will start." He preaches, stepping back, moving slowly towards a nearby side street. "Treasure this life Milady Emmeryn has bought you. None of you will die this night."

My hand finally reaches the hilt of my sword, and with a thought I burn the grasping tendrils of darkness away with a bolt of lightning that blackens the road beneath me. "They may not," I snarl, finally finding my voice again, "But you certainly will, you walking work of fiction!"

I fire a bolt of lightning at him, but he's been given ample time to prepare, rolling out of the way easily and allowing my attack to explode harmlessly against the wall behind him. He takes the chance to run down the side road out of sight. The guards do nothing to follow, still weeping in relief, as if the boy had the means to kill them in the first place.

As dearly as I'd love to give chase, I have little doubt in my mind that lunatic Grimleal brat is moving with him now. Fighting him once was more than enough for one day. The boy is deadly enough to embarrass even the most intense priests in the damn Grimleal. And even that brief scuffle was enough to make the burns healing across my body ache.

Well, the nice thing about being in charge is that there's always a surplus of bodies to throw at the problem. The guards are still whimpering like infants, but they're not being held any longer. "What are you useless lot waiting for?" I snap, lashing out with the flat of my sword. "Get after him!"

"But he-"

"I don't give a damn what sort of pretty speeches he's making, I want him caught!" I point down the road after him with my blade. "That man may talk a big game about forgiveness and mercy, but do not forget that he earned the name butcher carving a path through Plegia all the way here to our capital. Are we simply going to let such a monster run through our streets unchecked? The lives he has taken must be answered for!"

Appealing to resentment does the trick, as per usual. Think of what we've lost, and strike back! The same principal is what let me wage war on Ylisse, it will work to bring one unruly dog to heel. The more vengeful soldiers lead the charge, as always, and galvanize the rest to follow.

…Still, more than a few are lingering. They are slow to follow, and look far too thoughtful for my liking. It seems the performance was effective.

Ben the Butcher… I thought him uncomplicated. Just another angry man lashing out at perceived wrongs against himself and his country. His status as a Shepherd made him unusually loud as radicals go, but that honestly made him more useful than anything. He made for an effective scapegoat whenever the Exalt's talk of peace resounded a little too much. 'Don't fall for her lies, remember she has the Butcher!'

It is all too clear now that I dismissed him too easily. The man isn't a radical. He's a goddamn actor! The Butcher is a title, one which he wears as a cloak whenever it suits him. A persona he uses when the fear it brings may be useful to him. Such as just now, when he demoralized the closest members of my own damn guard!

Which begs the question, what else today has been a performance on his part? The courtyard was obviously in large part a ruse by him, perhaps meant in service of this moment, perhaps a means to extract his new Dark Mage friend.

Or perhaps… Perhaps that blackened corpse in my possession is nothing more than a prop on his damn stage!

I whirl around to one of my guards still picking himself up off the ground and grab him by the shoulder. "You, leave the Butcher. Go rally the wyverns and tell them to join in the pursuit!"

The man scrambles away to enact my orders, and I return to the castle, seething.

"I see you now, Ben." I hiss to myself. "I see what you've done. And I will make sure it's all for nothing. I will catch you, and your Dark Mage friend, and have you torn limb from limb. And you did somehow fake the Exalt's death I'll make sure her next one as slow and painful as can possibly be imagined! She can't have gotten far without you, so once you're a corpse at my feet it will only be a matter of time!"

-Diana-

"We're lost." Severa grumbles, not for the first time today, as she glares angrily into the campfire.

"We're not lost." I reply with a roll of my eyes, as King lets out a frustrated warble behind me. "I'm quite certain we're right on top of our destination. As soon as dawn breaks King and I can survey the area from above and find the ruins."

The newest addition to our group gives a carefree laugh at that, completely at ease with Severa's grousing. "There, you see Severa? We must have faith in your younger sister. She is young, but she is wise beyond her years! With her guidance I have little doubt that we shall be triumphant in our adventures!"

"Will you shut up, Owain?" Severa groans. "If it wasn't for you we'd still be able to just fly everywhere."

Owain winces at that, and I swiftly intervene. "There's no need to be like that Severa. You know he was very helpful with finding that axe."

"Diana!" Owain gives me a beaming, grateful smile, and raises a hand in triumph. "I knew that as a fellow member of the Justice Cabal you would have my back!"

"Of course!" I grin at him. "We wouldn't have found it nearly as fast without you."

"Naturally!" Owain jumps to his feet, firelight dancing across his brightly grinning face. "When it comes to weapons of a legendary nature, none can find them better than the incredible Owain Dark! Just look at my blade of choice!" He draws his sword and brandishes it in the air. "Who could doubt my prowess with the mighty Missiletainn at my side?"

"Still just a prop sword, Owain." Severa rolls her eyes.

"Well of course it's not the real Mystletainn, Severa!" Owain scoffs. "That's why I spelled it differently!"

"What." Severa replies with an incredulous look.

"See, look at the inscription here. I left the 'Y' out."

"When did you even find the time to get a name inscribed on this stupid thing?"

"A true warrior of legend never goes anywhere without inscription tools!"

"You're a legendary dork is what you are! What kind of legendary warrior needs to be saved from a couple of bandits?"

"I… I had them right where I wanted them, I'll have you know!"

"They were chasing you in circles around the village!"

"A forbidden technique to wear down their stamina before I strike them down with one of my secret moves!"

By this point I've buried my face in King's feathers to muffle my laughter. These two and their nonsense… I have truly missed this. They can go on for hours and it never seems to get any less ridiculous. I can't wait until we can return to the Shepherds, if Ben's sparring with Owain goes anything like Dad's did… it's gonna drive Severa crazy. It'll be just like the old days…

"Everything alright Diana?" Owain asks softly. I look over to him and see a concerned look on his face. I raise an eyebrow in confusion and he smiles sadly. "You're crying, you know."

I raise a hand to my face and realize it's wet. "Oh! I hadn't realized." I blink in surprise. "I was just… thinking of home."

"I see." Owain grins. "Well there is no need to weep, in that case. Soon enough we will return to Ylisstol, and we'll see your father, and Uncle Chrom, and my mom and dad, and… and everyone! It'll be just like when we were kids. Nay, it shall be even better! You'll see!"

I smile at him, but it's shaky. "I know… that's… I'm rather afraid of it, honestly. I don't know if I want it all to be better than ever… I just… want it to be home."

Owain nods in understanding, dropping the persona. "Yeah… yeah, me too."

Severa rolls her eyes. "You wouldn't be acting so worried if you hadn't been flying around avoiding everyone for so long."

"Well one of us had to listen to Lucina, didn't they?" I snip back. "Just because you broke the rules-"

"I don't care about Lucina's stupid rules!" Severa snaps. "I've got my own stuff I want to do."

Ugh, that stupid plan of hers! "I thought I told you to drop that dumb idea!"

"I'm the older sister here! I don't have to listen to you, little brat!"

"Okay!" Owain cries out, moving between the two of us. "I think we need to… take a moment and calm ourselves here. If we are to succeed in our endeavors we must be united in both mind and heart, for the, um, for the sake of a brighter tomorrow!"

"Whatever." Severa scoffs, getting to her feet and attaching her sword to her belt.

"Um, Severa? Where exactly are you-"

"I'm taking a walk!" Severa snaps.

"It's not safe to be walking about on our own at night!"

"Aren't you always saying our weapons are like our comrades?" Severa replies sarcastically, gesturing to her sword. "Well me and my 'comrade' are taking a walk. And if you know what's good for you, you better not follow!" And with that she stalks off into the woods, off on yet another tantrum.

Owain looks between me and the direction my sister stormed off uncertainly. "Wait, Severa, I… I don't think, ah dammit."

"You can go after her if you're that worried." I reply coolly. "I do have King here with me."

Owain looks relieved at that. "Oh yes, of course! How foolish of me to forget your most noble of comrades. Well then, mighty Nidoking, I shall leave Diana's safety in your most capable talons!"

King snorts disdainfully. "It's just King now, remember Owain?" I remind him. "He likes it far better."

"Ah, but of course!" He laughs nervously as King eyes him. "What could be better for a griffon of such regal bearing? Well then, I shall be off. Worry not, Diana, your sister shall have nothing to fear with my blade protecting her!"

"I'm certain she won't." I say with a smile.

Owain laughs in that way he always does when trying to lift his own spirits, and moves to the edge of the clearing. Before he departs though, he turns back to me. "Er… Diana? What exactly is this dumb idea Severa has? You two keep getting angry every time it comes up."

I frown at that. I should have known he would ask sooner or later. "It's… not my place to say." I reply hesitantly. "It's… she… no. I'm sorry Owain, I can't. I don't approve of what she's planning, but I won't betray her trust either. Just… forget about it, alright? I'll stop her from doing anything dumb, okay? That's what sisters are for!"

Owain gets some of his energy back at that. "Right. What sort of hero would I be if I didn't show proper trust to a fellow member of the Justice Cabal?" He smiles shakily at me. "Well then. I'll bring her back, and trust you to take care of the rest."

He's barely taken two steps into the darkness when there is a loud sound of falling rock, and a sharp shriek. King leaps to his feet, eyes sharp. Owain freezes. "Severa?" He calls out uncertainly.

My feet are moving before I realize it, but Owain's strong arms catch me before I can run past him. "Hold, Diana! We mustn't run off recklessly!"

"Let go of me Owain! She could be hurt!" I claw at his hands desperately.

"If we don't tread cautiously we could easily join her!" He answers, completely immovable. "You heard that falling stone, yes? Think: what kind of terrain around here could cause such a thing?"

I pause at the question. "I… don't know. It's a forest, there's a cliff maybe?"

"No." Owain shakes his head grimly. Seeing that I'm no longer fighting him he goes to the campfire and readies a torch. "There shouldn't be any cliffs near enough to us. Just trees… and the ruins you seek."

I realize what he's talking about immediately. "You think she found the ruins?"

"Not just found. I'd wager she fell into them." Owain replies. "Our good companion has in all likelihood found herself trapped beneath the earth."

"Trapped?" I look around anxiously. "We have to find her!"

"And we shall!" Owain replies confidently, handing me a torch. "Worry not, brave Diana! We shall find your sister before long!"

"You're right." I nod, slowing my breathing in an attempt to calm myself down. I grin mischievously as we set out. "You'll be her knight in shining armor, won't you?"

"Wha- hey now!" Owain protests, "Who do I look like, Inigo?"

"Not at all!" I blink innocently. "Inigo is entirely shameless. You, on the other hand, are a very lovely shade of pink right now."

"What!?" Owain flinches. "I-I think the firelight is playing tricks on your eyes."

It's rather clearly not just the firelight, but I don't push. Owain's always had a very low tolerance for teasing. He's a sensitive boy, which makes it all the more amusing how much he likes to spend time with my sister and her short temper.

It's slow going at first, walking through the forest in the dark, but after a little while King takes point. His sharp eyes see through the darkness far better than we can with our torches, and he uses that to find the easiest path through the forest. As we continue his path begins to wind more, and his talons hesitate as he places them. "We've reached the ruins." I remark. "King doesn't think the ground here is as stable."

"Then all we need do now is find where Severa fell through!" Owain replies excitedly. "Severa! Severa, can you hear us?"

"Took you long enough!" A voice snaps on our left. "Hurry up and get me out of here!" It's a welcome relief to hear her voice, even if she's being a brat again. I suppose I should have expected she'd be in one of her moods after what just happened to her, though.

"Severa!" Owain calls out, peering desperately into the darkness. "Are you okay? Were you injured?"

"I'm fine!" the voice calls back. "I just sprained my stupid ankle falling."

After a few moments tiptoeing around, King seems to give up at looks back at Owain and I apologetically. He's too heavy to continue. Owain takes that as his cue to carry on without our guide, though he remains careful in where he puts his feet. I follow cautiously behind him, until we finally reach the hole Severa fell into.

Frankly speaking, it's gigantic. Large enough that King could easily fly through it. At the bottom, Severa is sitting on top of a pile of rubble, next to what looks like a fallen tree. She scowls up at us, clearly sulking. "Well are you going to sit there and paint a damn portrait or are you going to get me out of here?"

"Wait, what in the world happened?" Owain exclaims in shock. "I didn't hear enough noise for this much of a mess!"

"Most of it was already down here, duh!" She throws her arms up impatiently. "I found the edge of this stupid hole, but when I turned back to tell you two the stupid ground collapsed from under my stupid feet!"

"Huh… The tree falling must have knocked the hole in the roof of this ruin." Owain muses. "And that made the ground around here unstable enough to collapse when somebody else walked by."

"Which means we need to be even more careful about where we move from here." I note. "We can't use a rope to get down. Anything we tie it to could come down on top of us. Wait here, let me fly in with King."

"Excellent thinking!" Owain compliments. "You do that, and I shall keep our ailing companion company!"

"Oh gods, kill me now." Severa's voice drifts up from the hole in the ground.

It's a matter of minutes to regroup with King and direct him into the opening. Owain watches anxiously as I fly down to land on the rubble next to my sister. Before she can move to join me though I dismount and start digging through King's saddlebags. "Don't move yet. It'll be better if I splint this now."

Severa sighs, stuffs the sheathe of her knife in her mouth, bites down, and starts tugging her boot off. I gasp in shock at the sight, dropping the bandages I was retrieving and running over. "Stop, what are you doing!? Just let me cut the stupid boot off!"

The look my sister gives me at that is as frustrating as it is predictable. Severa has always been far too attached to her clothing, and the mere thought of me cutting one of her precious boots is an absolute outrage to her. She snarls through the pain as the boot pulls free, teeth gritted. "Gaah! There, go for it."

"Is everything okay down there?" Owain calls anxiously.

"Fine." I snap back. "My sister was just being a complete idiot again!"

"I'm not letting you rip my boot apart for a stupid splint!" Severa growls.

"Severa, really?" Owain's voice rings with exasperation. "If you're worried about getting your feet dirty you could have just rode on King's back."

King clicks his beak irritably at the comment, knowing full well I'd have made him do it.

"I'm fine with getting dirty, what I'm not fine with is letting perfectly good boots get ruined! Ouch! I know you're being rougher with me on purpose." Severa whines at me.

"I haven't the foggiest idea what you mean." I reply coolly, tugging the bandages sharply.

"OUCH! You're such a brat!" She shrieks.

"Says the one who got their ankle sprained because they were running off throwing a temper tantrum!"

"HEY!" Owain barks loudly. "Do not make me come down there! Get a hold of yourselves already, I should not have to be the mature one here!"

The two of us blink at that. Severa gives me a horrified look. "Oh my god he's right."

"It happens." I reply bemusedly. "Usually when he's analyzing weapons, mind you, but it does happen."

We chuckle at that, with Owain grumbling good-naturedly to himself above, then sit in silence as I finish tending to Severa's ankle. It's minor, thankfully. She'll need to ride King as we travel for a while, but it should only take a week or so to heal fully. Severa doesn't say anything until I've almost finished putting my things away.

"…Sorry."

"It's fine." I reply quietly. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. The two of us always get into fights when Ben or Lumír aren't around to intervene."

"I guess so…" Severa frowns. "Well. All the more reason to get this over with, huh? Are these the ruins we're looking for?"

"They should be." I nod. "I don't think there's many to choose from around here."

"So… what are we looking for here anyways?"

"Uhh…" I try to remember, but come up blank. "Hold on a second." I move to a separate pouch on King's saddle, and pull out a battered box with a lock. The key hangs on a cord around my neck, so that it can be watched properly by both myself and King. And upon opening the box I get access to my most prized possession: a tattered old book. It has no monetary value of course, but it holds a wealth of information, including everything I need to know about the mission we're on.

Unfortunately in this case the information is rather lacking. "No wonder I couldn't remember." I groan. "It just says: something incredibly important."

"What? That's stupid, let me see." Severa holds up a hand and makes a grabbing motion.

"No Severa." I recoil, swiftly and carefully returning the book to its box. "My eyes only."

"I ought to just kick your ass and take it." She grumbles.

"You couldn't do it when your ankle wasn't sprained, how do you plan to do it now?" I smirk triumphantly as I put the box away. Severa may be way better than me with any weapon, but nobody beats me in wrestling. If she really wanted to see the book so badly she'd have to use her sword, and that'll never happen. She loves me too much to even think of it.

…Well she might be thinking of it right now, actually, judging from the frustrated look in her eyes and the way she's grumbling. But she'd never actually do something like pull a blade on me. Which is why I get to win all our arguments.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure we'll find it once the sun comes up." Owain calls down. "Let's just focus on getting some rest before our great adventure, shall we?"

"Owain's right." I nod. "Let's get out of here for now."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Severa mutters, propping herself against the feet as she balances on one leg, boot still held in her hand. "I've already had enough of this place for a damn li-" She freezes, looking up at me with wide eyes. "What was that?"

"What was what?" I blink in confusion.

"I heard something just now. Like a moaning sound."

"Moaning?" I frown. "I didn't hear anything. Owain?"

"I can't hear anything from up here." Owain replies. "My razor-keen senses have been thwarted by distance!"

Well, there's somebody else here with razor keen senses, thankfully. "King?" I look to my griffon curiously. King doesn't so much as acknowledge me, staring into the inky blackness beyond my torchlight. "Okay, there's definitely something out there. Quiet everyone."

I listen carefully, and sure enough there's a very soft moaning sound, and accompanied by the shuffling of feet.

"There!" Severa hisses urgently. "You heard that, right?"

"I heard it." I reply grimly. "Could that be Risen?"

"Maybe!" Severa replies. "What else would be creeping around in a place like this?"

"Look for red lights!" Owain calls down urgently. "Risen eyes glow red in the dark!"

"I don't see any." Severa says. "And King isn't freaking out. It might just be a person."

"Only one way to find out, I suppose." I nod. "Be ready to mount up quickly, just in case."

Once Severa's hopped her way over to King's flank, I call out into the darkness. "Hello? Is there anybody there?"

Everything is silent for a brief moment, until a girl's voice suddenly calls out. "Oh! Are you talking to me?"

Well… that's an odd response. "You would fall under 'anybody', wouldn't you?" I mutter under my breath, which draws a chuckle from Severa. "I am! We heard you groaning, do you need help?"

"Uh… probably!" the voice comes back.

"Probably?"

"Probably!" She replies, oddly chipper. "I can't remember how I got here at all, so maybe I'm supposed to be here? But I haven't eaten in… three weeks? So I'd say I'm most likely in trouble."

"Holy shit." Severa says, eyes wide. I can't say I disagree.

"Yeah, there's lots of clean water down here, so that's nice, but I could only ration my food out for two months so I ran out a while ago."

"Holy shit!" Severa yelps in horror. "Get over here you absolute moron, we need to get you fed before you drop dead or something!"

"Oh, that'd be great!" the girl replies, her feet shuffling in the dark. "I'm kinda sick of this place, honestly."

It takes a while before she finally emerges into the torchlight, but once she does I immediately move to assist her. "Here, lean on me, let's get you over to King so we can get you out of here."

"Thanks for the help!" She replies, beaming despite being covered with dirt and looking horrifyingly emaciated. "Walking is really hard at the moment. I was starting to think I might die down here."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" I smile, letting her place a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll get you fed and cleaned up in no time. I have some spare clothing that might fit you if you want it, too."

"Oh, thank the Gods!" She grins in anticipation. "I've been stuck wearing the same smallclothes for ages. It's been so miserable! And my coat! It's never been this filthy in my life, I can't stand it!"

"I'm sure it will look lovely once we get it cleaned up." I reply, looking the garment over. When my gaze drifts to the sleeves I feel my blood run cold.

"I hope so. It's really important to me, I got it from my father." The girl continues to speak, completely oblivious. "He's this tactician for… somebody important, though I can't remember who. I know he's a really big deal though!"

I turn to Severa. She's staring at the girl as though she's seen a ghost, leaning heavily against King's side. Further confirmation to my suspicions. I stare blankly at the girl. "What did you say your name was?"

"Oh geez, I totally didn't introduce myself, did I?" The girl blinks in shock. "My name is-"

"Morgan." Severa says in a sharp whisper that cuts through the quiet of the ruins.

"WHAT?" Owain gasps in shock, leaning so far in that he nearly falls through the hole.

Morgan blinks in confusion. "Uhh… yeah, actually. Have we met before?"

I force my legs to move in spite of my shock, the motions… I believe Dad would use the word 'robotic', whatever that means. It's unimportant. What's important is that I am apparently here with Morgan. Morgan who is Robin's daughter.

Morgan who went missing when I was seven years old. I was told she died! I can barely even remember her!

"This doesn't make sense!" Severa gasps. "You… you didn't come through the portal with us. How are you here? Where have you been!? It's been five goddamn years!"

Morgan flinches at the sharpness in Severa's tone. "I… I don't understand. Five years? Portal? You guys are freaking me out here."

"Morgan, do you remember how you ended up here?" I ask cautiously.

"Uhh… I don't think so?" Morgan replies, her face screwed up in concentration. "I… remember… dad, and…" She grimaces, clutching a hand to her head. "Agh! What's… what happened to me?"

"It's alright. Don't worry about it." I reply soothingly. "Whatever ordeals you've been through, you're safe now. You might not remember us, but we're your friends."

"You… you are?" She looks around at us, still terrified.

"P-pretty much." Severa supplies, despite looking terribly shaken. "My dad and yours are friends."

"And they both work for my uncle!" Owain supplies from up top. "Comrades in arms, always willing to fight for justice and serve their fellow man!"

Morgan's face twists at that, before she shakes her head sadly. "I'm sorry. I just… can't seem to remember."

"It's alright." I repeat. "Let's get you to our camp, and we can figure things out from there. We may even be able to go see your dad!"

"Yay!" Morgan grins. "That'd be fantastic! I'm so lucky you ran into me here."

"Yeah." Severa says numbly. "Real lucky."

An hour later Morgan has eaten her way through half of our supplies and is sleeping deeply against King's flank, the griffon watching over her carefully. This leaves Severa, Owain and I to talk freely.

And of course my sister being who she is, she has a great deal to say on the matter. "How is this possible!? She disappeared when she was nine! In the middle of the damn war! She'd barely even begun her damn training, she could never have made it out there on her own!"

"Perhaps somebody took her in?" Owain suggests, looking unusually grim. "She must have been cared for by somebody, her clothing is dirty, but it fits too well to be stolen or found. And her weapons look well used, so she must have been trained."

"What makes you say that?" I look to him curiously. "Her clothes are practically draped over her."

"Yes, but only because she's been starved for weeks." Owain says, a small smile across his face. "My mother was acting Exalt, remember? I know far more about clothing fittings than I would like. It comes with the territory."

"I'll take your word for it." I reply with a grin.

"Fine, whatever, she was looked after by somebody." Severa grumbles. "What I really want to know is how the heck we found her here!"

"I guess… this is what Dad meant by 'something incredibly important'." I note.

"No kidding!" Severa throws her hands up in frustration. "But how did he know where to find her!?"

"I have always known Uncle Ben was a man to be reckoned with, but this…" Owain stares into the fire. "It's downright miraculous! I can barely comprehend it."

"Is this what Dad meant when he said he heard stories of our world?" Severa says quietly. "Does the stuff he knows really go this far?"

"I… suppose it must." I reply, suddenly feeling very small. "I'm sure he doesn't know everything, but why else would he send us here?"

"Are you implying that he knows our story before it even happens?" Owain looks up to us wide-eyed. "Could your father be acting as an arbiter of destiny? And that axe I found, he sent for it for the same reason?"

"I thought he was just sending us on some stupid errands so Diana would be away from the war." Severa says quietly. "I never expected… this." The thought had occurred to me as well, though I'm not happy to hear her say it out loud.

"To think he had such knowledge!" Owain gasps. "And in fulfilling his wishes we have become part of this greater destiny he seeks to fulfill! It's incredible! Think of the lives we've saved already thanks to him! And he's even reunited us with Morgan after all these years! Truly your father is an incredible man!"

"I mean, I guess so?" Severa blinks in shock. "I hadn't really thought of it before."

The two chatter away excitedly, lost in their own heads, and I move next to Morgan, nestling myself into King's warm fur. A part of me wants to stop them. Tell them what I know. The things that are becoming clear to me as the extent of my father's knowledge becomes apparent. But I don't.

I'm too scared of what that knowledge means.

My hand reaches up to clutch at the key hanging from my neck as I shiver in fear. King curls tighter around me, sensing my distress, but even his presence brings little comfort. I see my father more clearly than ever now, but the more I know the less I feel that I understand. What kind of person was my father, truly?

…And what kind of person is Ben?


Now that I've gone to the trouble of adding chapter titles, let's play a fun game, shall we? Look at the title of this chapter, and take note of which names have been chosen to narrate... and which have not. In all cases the character was chosen deliberately. Though in the case of Libra and Emmeryn, the gap in knowledge is closer than most.

Next time, we return to your regularly scheduled Ben.

For those of you looking to talk about fanfiction stuff in a friendly setting, I invite you to join the Fanfiction Treehouse Discord. It's a great community, with many fellow writers and fanfiction enthusiasts. They also have a podcast, one which I was recently invited to appear on as a guest! I had a great time talking with the podcast crew about how to write fight scenes, and I think everyone brought some excellent insight to the table. If that sounds interesting to you be sure to check it out!

discord .gg/9XG3U7a