"Harder!" shouted his instructor angrily, batting away his sword-stroke with contempt. "You call that swordplay? My granny could block that swing! And she's dead!"

Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow with one hand and raised his practice sword with the other, trying to ignore the words. They were part of the instruction anyway – he knew his swordmaster James was not the type to get angry during training. Part of the exercise was ignoring these sort of distracting taunts – 'in the heat of battle, one can let nothing distract them'. One of the many proverbs on combat that James loved drilling into him.

Arthur steadied himself and gripped his sword in two hands, analyzing his opponent. Even though he knew the taunt was meant mostly as a distraction, he knew it struck to the issue of his swordplay. His blows simply were not strong enough. Arthur had always been plenty fast – preternaturally fast in fact, a byproduct of his holy blood. But James was his father's best knight, nearly as fast as Arthur and much stronger. There was only so much that Arthur's raw speed could do. At a certain point their battles always came down to strength and endurance, and in these Arthur could not compete against the knight.

Arthur let the point of his sword drop wearily and spoke to the knight in a casual tone. "Come on James, we've been at this for hours. Haven't we done enough training for the day? It's practically dusk already."

James recoiled in mock outrage, putting on his most sarcastic tone. "Quitting already? I suppose that's alright. After all, battles will usually have a break at the hour mark for everyone to take a breather, get some tea, and so on."

Arthur rolled his eyes, already hearing the lecture in his head. "Okay, okay, I get it. Battles don't stop when you're tired. It's just…" he hesitated to voice the thought. "When's the last time we've had a battle on this island, James? Besides the odd bandit, that is. We've been at peace for the last thousand years!"

James mulled over the statement, formulating his response. What Arthur said was true – their island, Pyrath, had been at peace for as long as any of them could remember. Thousands of years previously the Hero-King Marth had won a battle here, but since then the island had been mostly peaceful, developing into a bountiful agricultural community. When the first Exalt united Ylisse, Pyrath had become a part of the new nation, and the Duchy of Pyrath had been established. Technically Arthur's father, the Duke of Pyrath, was ceremonially equal with the other dukes of the Halidom, but realistically their island was a much smaller territory than duchies like Themis and Talys. They paid their taxes to the Exalt and contributed their levies in times of war, but the Dukes of Pyrath had long ago given up trying to influence the politics of the mainland, and typically only visited during the coronations and funerals of Exalts. Or wars.

James finally answered the question, breaking Arthur from his thoughts on their duchy's history. "Just because we've been at peace doesn't mean that peace will last. And plus, even if the island is at peace, the Duke answers to the Exalt. Someday you will be the Duke, Arthur, and if the Exalt summons you to war you will have to lead the forces of Pyrath and fight whatever battles the Exalt commands of you."

Arthur shivered at the thought, remembering the last war the Halidom had entered: the Great Crusade. Exalt Lucas, Exalt Emmeryn's father, had declared war on Plegia with the intent of wiping out the Grimleal. Arthur had been a child at the time, but he remembered how worried he had been while his father was away to fight in the crusade. When his father had come back, he had never been the same. He never talked about what had happened during the crusade. Arthur shook the thoughts away. "Exalt Emmeryn isn't like that, James. She wants nothing but peace with Plegia."

"Well, war isn't something that we always decide on. Does Plegia want peace? Do you think they have forgotten what Emmeryn's father did to them?" James snorted contemptuously. "Not likely. The Plegians just crowned a new king, Gangrel, and if what they say about him is true we won't be at peace for long."

Arthur's brow creased with worry as he thought about this. "But–" He was cut off as a sudden deafening noise rang through the courtyard.

Come to me, Arthur.

"Wha?" Arthur reacted to the sudden loud noise by covering his ear and sinking to his knees.

James knelt next to him, suddenly concerned. "Arthur?! What's wrong?!"

"You didn't hear that? That voice?" Arthur could not believe it – the voice had been shockingly loud.

"Voice? No, I didn't hear anything." James seemed confused, but after a second his eyes narrowed knowingly. "What did the voice say?"

"It said: Come to me, Arthur."

James frowned at this, seeming concerned. "We can't keep them waiting, then. Ordinarily I'd ask your father, but he's on the other side of the island right now. Follow me." He started walking at a quick pace towards the door into the main keep.

Arthur sputtered at the sudden change in the conversation but fell into step behind James. "Wait, what? Keep who waiting?"

"Dialga" said James gravely, opening the door to the main keep and leading Arthur down a torch-lit corridor. "If they spoke to you, it must be something of extreme importance."

Arthur opened and closed his mouth, speechless. What did the Time Dragon want with him? He knew the answer as soon as he asked it. He looked down at his right palm, where the Brand of Dialga was emblazoned on his skin. The brand was simple, two light blue triangles placed in opposition to form an hourglass design. He had always felt gratitude for the brand and the extra speed that it gave him during their combat training, but looking at it now he suddenly felt that it was a terrible responsibility as he remembered why his family had this blood. They had been given Dialga blood to serve as champions for the Time Dragon in the mortal world – the time had come to pay for that gift with service.

Arthur continued following James in silence, feeling a greater and greater sense of foreboding as they traveled lower in the citadel. Eventually they came to a finely engraved door which Arthur had never seen before. James stopped outside of the door, pulling a torch off of a wall sconce and handing it to Arthur. "I can't take you any further" he said, gesturing to the door. His tone suddenly softened and he put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I don't know what's waiting for you in there Arthur, but I know it's serious. I know you're probably worried, and I don't think I can honestly tell you that there isn't anything to worry about. Just remember – you've been training for this your whole life, even if you didn't know it. Whatever Dialga asks of you, they are asking because they believe you are the person who can do it."

James clapped his shoulder one last time and walked back up the hallway, leaving Arthur alone facing the door.

Arthur lifted the torch he was carrying, holding it close to the door so he could inspect the engraving. The engraving was intricately detailed, depicting what seemed to be a great war, with humans and dragons fighting on both sides. The left side of the engraving showed the world as a utopia, complete with bustling cities, plentiful fields, and people united in peace. The right side of the engraving showed a world in ruins: cities raging with fire, volcanoes erupting, skeletons littering the ground. Arthur shivered at the design.

Clamping down on his nerves, Arthur pushed open the door and walked into the room behind it. The room was lit only by his torch, and as he stepped further in the door closed behind him, leaving him alone in the torchlight.

Suddenly the room was filled with a blue glow, illuminating an empty gateway on the side of the room opposite him. Runes covered the gateway, and right now they were glowing with blue light which was continuously intensifying. As the light from the runes intensified, the empty space in the gateway began to shimmer and warp in ways that defied Arthur's understanding. Suddenly a humanoid figure stepped out of this shimmering empty space and into the room.

The lights on the portal shut off, but the room remained well lit - the humanoid figure was radiating a soft blue light which illuminated the entirety of the space. Arthur stood frozen, unable to take his eyes off the figure. They were very tall, at least seven feet by Arthur's estimation, with a beautiful androgynous face, long blue hair, and a sharp-pointed platinum crown which receded from their brow into the air over their sharp set of ears. The being spoke, their voice resonating through Arthur's body.

I am Dialga, the Time Dragon. I have summoned you here for a grave purpose. This timeline has been breached by beings of another timeline. Some of these travelers act in this timeline's interest. Others seek to destroy it. The abomination Grima will see this world in cinders - thus we must burn away his influence.

You will join the champions of Naga in the battle against Grima.

You will meet Chrom, a blood-champion of Naga, in Southtown three days hence. You will disclose nothing of your mission, only offer your sword as a vassal.

You will take this holy sword, Rust, made from one of my fangs, and use it to see my will accomplished.

Finally, there will come a time when one of the other champions presses to reveal your purpose. You will show them your brand, and inform them that they have allies this time that they did not before.

And remember, while Naga is my ally in this conflict, you do not serve Naga. You serve me. Go forth, my champion. Write my will upon this world.

Arthur unfroze and fell to his knees, eyes falling away from Dialga. When he looked up the room was empty, again lit only by the light of his torch which sputtered against the ground where it had fallen from his hand. On the ground in front of him lay a longsword with a classic design, simple save for its blade. The blade was like no metal he had ever seen before, a dark gray tinged slightly with blue. Upon very close inspection, he could see that the air just around the blade warped slightly, similarly to how the space between the portal had warped when Dialga appeared. Rust, Dialga had called the sword. The sword's case rested next to it on the ground - he picked it up and latched it to his belt. Then he gently picked up the sword itself. It was uncannily light in his grasp, and as he held it he felt the brand on his palm tingle strangely. He sheathed the blade and turned back towards the door of the room.

Dialga had called for his service. He was heading to Southtown.

(Disclaimer: So yes, the name of the Time Dragon is Dialga, but this is not a pokemon crossover! I am co-opting Dialga's design, but in this story they are a dragon in the Fire Emblem universe, not a pokemon. Let me know if this is immersion-breaking and I'll think about changing the name. To me it feels fine – Dialga already kind of sounds like an FE Dragon name (a little bit like Naga?), and I like the idea that I could draw on preexisting aesthetics for this new character. I'm still thinking about the Space and Chaos dragons though. Anyway, that was Chapter 1. Hope you liked it! More to come soon.

Also, quick shout out to some of my inspirations for this story! My favorite fanfic of all time, The Voice and the Vessel, is a Robin x Tiki fanfic that really expands the lore of the world in relation to Robin and the divine dragons, but I particularly love it because it because it is about love between people fated to be enemies – Robin, the avatar of Grima, and Tiki, the daughter of Naga. Anyway, I wanted to write a fanfiction which explores that theme a little further, and also employs this setting to offer a real-world take on determinism and free will. Also I've been playing Genealogy and Echoes recently and I want to tie together some holy blood lore for Ylisse.)