A thick, oily scent stirred Lucina from her slumber. It curled around her face, snaking its way into her nostrils and tainting her thoughts with visions of food until her empty stomach made itself all too apparent with a resounding growl.

Lucina groaned, silently cursing her weak body for giving in. There was no food, not in the middle of the desert. Her body seemed insistent on reminding her of the fact, the hole in her stomach drawing further down with each passing day. Yet it seemed only now did her senses attempt to grant her a moment of reprieve, tempting her with the smell of food she knew did not exist.

I suppose returning to the world was inevitable, she thought. But waking up hungry in the middle of the desert is hardly the best way to start on good terms with the day.

Then she opened her eyes. To her surprise, she found herself in the middle of a room, a sheet draped over her, and the only sunlight the beams slipping in through the window. It was cool and cozy in here, a far cry from the blazing heat of the desert, and the mattress beneath her was a luxury when compared to the sandy floor she'd been forced to sleep upon for who knew how long. A small part of her coaxed her back into the void of sleep, if only to enjoy the warm embrace of proper bedding for a little longer.

Paranoia kept her awake.

Who found me? Where am I? Did I get away? What's going to happen to me? Questions, too many questions swirled around her head. What little sleep remained in her fled, cleared out by all the thoughts stirring her mind.

The mattress beneath her crackled as she pushed herself up, her hand coming up to cover her brand on instinct. The room she found herself in was spacious, much too spacious for a bedroom. The air around her felt cool, though that could have simply been because she had grown accustomed to the sweltering desert air. Over the wide, wooden floor, she found a small table, a purple and yellow cloth draped over it.

Behind that, a woman knelt before the fireplace, her dark hair draped down over her shoulders and flowed down her back.

Lucina had never seen this woman before in her life. The closest she could compare her to was Aunt Tharja; the shade of purple in her hair was very similar, yet it was too wavy. Aunt Tharja's face was also a little longer, her eyes a little more narrow, and she would never be caught wearing such a warm smile.

Lucina blinked. The woman's smile only grew, and her chocolate brown eyes held Lucina's gaze steadily.

"Good morning," she said, her voice carrying her words with a melodic cadence.

Lucina's questions immediately rose to her throat, all rushing to the front of her mind at once and causing such a clutter that all that came out of her mouth was, "Good morning."

She took a moment to organize her thoughts. "Excuse me," she said, clearing her throat, "but, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

"Ah. It seems I've not introduced myself yet." Taking a moment to shift a pan away from the fire, the woman stood straight and with her arms at her sides. "My name is Aria."

"Aria. What happened to me? I don't remember coming here."

"I'd be surprised if you did. I found you lying unconscious in the middle of the desert," Aria said. "I hope you don't mind me bringing you home."

"No, it's fine," Lucina said. "I'm not sure I would have survived without you. You have my gratitude."

The woman hummed, and she turned back to her cooking, and the sound of sizzling filled the air once more.

Lucina was sure she had never heard of this woman before in her life, yet something about her felt familiar. The way she held herself, the way one corner of her lip tugged up in the faintest traces of a smirk when she spoke, it all struck an uncanny nerve with Lucina.

Then again, with the appearance of the Exalt before Emmeryn–her grandfather, she reminded herself–she could simply be the parent of one of her aunts or uncles.

Tharja came to mind, obviously. The similar hair color could be written off as a coincidence, but with her grandfather's death fresh in her memory, she didn't want to end up killing anyone else's grandparents as well.

Henry was another option she considered, being the other Plegian she knew. Of course, that was assuming she was still in Plegia.

A glance out the window told her she was no longer in the desert or the dry brushlands. There were too many trees for that, but even those took on a strange, yellowish hue, much too dry for anything deeper into Ylisse.

Through the trees, she managed to spot a cobblestone road weaving through the woods, small houses lined up on either side and further down, she could see a crowd milling about. It was such a peaceful scene.

Is this what life was like, in the small villages and towns before the Fell Dragon attacked? She'd not seen settlements this far from Ylisstol, having spent most of her early life cooped up in a castle. With the Risen roaming the lands, smaller settlements like this must have been wiped out, so this was a novel sight for her.

"Where am I? What is this place?" she asked, turning back to the dark-haired woman.

Aria looked over her shoulder and chuckled. "I'm afraid there isn't much I can say."

"Is there?" Lucina frowned. "I saw a village outside. Surely this place must have a name to mark it on your maps."

"There's no name I can give you. This village needs none, not with its presence completely wiped from the maps."

"I see." Lucina narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She kept them on the woman, even as she turned back to her cooking.

A hidden settlement. Lucina couldn't help but find that a little fishy.

"Perhaps, then, you could tell me which kingdom we are in?" she said.

Without looking, the woman said, "Oh, I believe we should be very close to the Ylisse border."

"So this is Plegia, then?"

The woman didn't reply. Lucina's irritation only grew, and a frown pulled at her lips. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but the woman cut her off with a sharp rap against the pan.

The woman lifted a small piece of meat from the pan. Lucina watched bubbles of oil fleck the surface, even as the woman slipped it into her mouth. Just hearing the wet sounds the meat made as the woman chewed it had her own mouth drenched, and she was tempted to ask for a piece.

Of course, it was rude to ask for food. Being a guest in the woman's home, it was much better to wait for an invitation

As she swallowed, a grin broke out on the woman's lips. She turned her head to a door on the side.

"Robin! Breakfast is ready!" the woman called.

Then it all clicked into place. A little too well for Lucina's liking.

There was no response at first. When the silence dragged on, Robin's mother frowned.

"Robin! Are you trying to find that rat of yours again?"

"I'm not gonna give up!" came the faint reply.

"Dear, I know you'll catch him someday, but right now, you need to eat!"

Another pause. Then she heard someone say, "Coming!"

It couldn't be that Robin, Lucina thought. It would make so much sense, but for me to have not considered that... there must be some mistake.

And yet, the second she caught sight of the familiar shock of white hair, there was no denying it: somehow, against all the odds, she had ended up in the house of her Uncle Robin.

Her mind sputtered, coming to a halt in a shower of sparks. The hair was the discrepancy, sure, but aside from that, it matched up. The woman's face matched what little she could remember of Uncle Robin's, and her stance matched the confident way he carried himself whenever he spoke. Uncle Robin had never been one eager to speak of his past. Perhaps it was an effort to keep this village hidden?

She was so distracted by her thoughts, the conversation at the other end of the room passed through her ears like noise.

"What did you make for breakfast?" Robin asked.

"I'd like you to take a guess."

"Well, I saw you bring home a basket of eggs and a big bag of meat. The bag was too big to be chicken, so... that means steak and egg!"

"That's a smart lad," Aria said, her grin stretching her cheeks. "Come over here! Breakfast is waiting!"

"Okay!" He strolled over to the table, but he paused when he noticed Lucina sitting on the other side of the room. "What about her?" he asked.

"Her? Eh, she won't mind. She doesn't look hungry, not with that scowl on her face. I think she might want a little more rest."

"Hm?" That got Lucina's attention. "Oh! No, I'm very hungry. I apologize if I came off as hostile. I just... have a lot on my mind."

"Me too!" Uncle Robin chirped. "My mom says I got lots going on in my mind cause I'm so smart!"

"I understand," Aria said. "I know all too well how much thoughts can weigh you down. Perhaps a little food might help you think? And heal whatever you've got on your face."

"The what?"

Robin's mother motioned to her left eye, and Lucina remembered the hand she had over it.

"I'd like an eyepatch," she blurted out. "I've got a nasty scar beneath my eyelid, and I'd prefer if no one had the chance to see it."

"I'll see if I have some," Aria said, already getting up from her seat.

"But you don't–"

Robin's mother leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Robin stiffened, before he relaxed and nodded.

As Lucina watched, she felt suspicion creep up on her again. Do they know about the brand? I can't have been conscious for very long, so they couldn't have caught a glimpse of my eye. Could they?

Lucina already knew how smart her Uncle Robin could be, and if his mother was anywhere near his level of intelligence, her secret might not be easy to keep. While she was sure they would never harm her, she didn't know how such a reveal could shape the past. She needed to be careful.

As his mother turned and slipped through the door leading further inside, Uncle Robin fixed her with a smile.

"Where did you come from, miss?" he asked

"Why do you ask?" Lucina replied.

"When mother found you, you were all dirty and covered in sand. Unless you were birthed from the desert, you have to come from somewhere."

Lucina smiled a little. "Well, the last place I've been was a big temple."

"Which one?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. It couldn't have been too far. Perhaps a day's walk from here?"

"The nearest temple is a two-day walk," Robin's mother said as she emerged from the door. "You must have walked a long way if you've come from there."

"Yes. I suppose I must have." Two days? That didn't sound right, but she had been delirious. It was hard to keep track of time if you couldn't even keep track of yourself.

Lucina watched as Aria slid back into her chair. She pressed an eyepatch to the table, in front of a third chair at the side.

The invitation was obvious. Lucina wouldn't be able to take it without coming to the table. It wasn't as if Lucina was in any position to refuse, though, so she plodded over.

"That reminds me," Aria said as Lucina fell back into her own chair, "I've introduced myself, and I'm sure by now you know the name of my son. What's your name?"

Lucina thought for a moment, before she said, "You may call me Marth."


"Miss Marth?"

Lucina glanced up to see Uncle Robin approach. She shifted on the stump she was sitting on, a little uncomfortable under his gaze. Young as he was, he still had that familiar analytical look that could unnerve her.

He can't be any more than four, Lucina thought. My father was very close to his age, and Aunt Lissa was only two years younger. At least this means I haven't prevented them from existing by killing grandfather. The thought brought some relief to her, knowing she hadn't messed up too badly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I'm thinking."

"Did mother's cooking do nothing to help?"

Lucina shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"That doesn't sound right," Robin said, pouting. "Mother's cooking always helps me when I think too hard."

"Well, maybe I have too many thoughts for it to help me with."

"Like what? Mother says I'm very smart. I think I can understand."

"You might," Lucina said, and she gave a long sigh, "but... they're heavy thoughts. Much too heavy for anyone else, even if you'd understand it. Maybe if we meet again, I'll tell, but now is not a good time."

"Oh. Okay."

Robin scurried around her and out of sight. A few seconds later, he poked his head back in front of her.

"Have you seen my rat?" he asked.

"Your rat?"

"Yes."

"Is that it?" Lucina said, and she pointed over his shoulder.

He followed her finger. "No, that's a bunny rabbit," he said after a moment of consideration.

"Is it?"

The rabbit leaping into the bushes behind answered her question.

Lucina frowned. "I think a bunny would be a better pet."

"But it's not my rat. My rat is my... what did mother say? I'm like my rat's father."

"Its father..." Lucina laughed dryly. "This rat is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I can understand that. My father is very important to me, too." She tapped a finger against her chin.

"Are you thinking about your father?"

Lucina looked over at Robin, her eyebrow raised. "How can you tell?"

"You made a face when you started talking about your father, so it has to be about him."

"Huh. You are very smart, aren't you?"

Robin's proud smile spoke for him, even before he said, "I know."

Lucina glanced away. A cool breeze combed through her hair, and she sighed. For a moment, she let herself drift into the past, suddenly reminded of all the times she'd spoken to Uncle Robin when she was a child herself.

Funny how, now, she found her situation reversed.

"He's so important to me, and because of something I did, I can't see him anymore. At least, not for now."

"Then you can help in the village."

"Hm?"

"Mother always says that time goes by fast when she's helping the village. If you have to wait, you might as well do something with it," Robin said, shrugging.

That didn't sound like a terrible idea. Waiting in the village for the Plegia-Ylisse war. Whenever Robin set off, she could go with him, if only so she could meet up with her father.

"Maybe I will," she said, and the faintest traces of a smile flickered on her face.

Surely she had time to spare.


The servant's supply closet was cold, cold enough for her breath to fog. It was jarring how different it was from the rest of the castle. No one in their right mind would ever want to stay, surrounded by soggy mops and dusty brushes.

That was exactly why Emmeryn had decided to hide here.

Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her dress. The sob that escaped her was the furthest from graceful she could remember being. Her etiquette tutors would berate her for such a showing. Sitting with your head tucked into your chest and drawing your knees together with your arms is bad posture, they'd say.

Either that, or they would tell her what a great man her father had been, give her a necklace adorned with shiny gems and run away before she could ask why he was so great. She didn't know which she would have preferred.

With her father dead, everyone wanted to tell her that they were sorry for her. There were just so many nice words, so many nicer gifts all in so little time.

She didn't have the heart to tell them she still couldn't believe all this was unfolding before her. So she'd come here instead.

When she heard the door creak open, she pretended not to notice.

Is it another noble, come to tell me they're sorry and leave me with another dress? she thought bitterly.

Maybe if she didn't pay them any attention, they would just leave her alone. Maybe if she stayed curled up like this, they wouldn't know it was her. She only hoped they wouldn't come over and remind her that her father was gone.

As the sound of footsteps drew closer, her hope began to wane.

She tried to tell herself they weren't here for her. Maybe they just need a brush in the back. Or maybe they need to put away a pan from the kitchen.

And then the footsteps stopped. Emmeryn lifted her gaze just a tiny bit.

The crushing despair she felt when she saw a shadow cast over her was immense.

She stayed frozen in place, even as they moved to sit beside her.

Emmeryn didn't talk. To her relief, neither did they. As far as Emmeryn was concerned, everyone was happier this way. She was fine, staying like this, so long as they didn't open their mouth and say–

"D-do you want a cake?"

"Huh?" Emmeryn was so surprised, the response slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"My mother told me to bring them to Miss Simone... b-but I think you need them more. You know, since you're so sad."

Emmeryn let her gaze travel up a little more. Her green eyes met dull brown. A girl, just a little bit younger than her brother, sat next to her, her mousy hair hovering over her shoulder in thick locks. A bright yellow flower sat over her right ear, woven into her hair with delicate care, and a silver platter sat on her lap, four small cakes set around the center.

"Won't you get in trouble?" Emmeryn asked.

"I'd feel bad," the girl said, "but I'd feel worse if you got ignored."

Emmeryn didn't speak, taking a moment to process it all. Cake had been the last thing on Emmeryn's mind, not with her father's death hanging over her like a thick cloud of sadness, but now that she had mentioned it, Emmeryn couldn't recall the last time she'd eaten.

"O-oh. I'm sorry, you don't like cake, do you?" The girl must have taken her silence as a negative reply, and she started to draw the platter away.

"No, not at all!" Emmeryn said. "I love cake, it's my favorite food in the world!"

"Really?"

"...No?"

The girl's face twisted into a frown. "You don't have to pretend for me."

"I'm not pretending. I'd love cake. Could I..." she motioned toward a cake, looking at the girl for permission.

"Oh. Take one."

Touching it delicately, as if it would disappear at any moment, Emmeryn lifted a cake dish off the platter. The sweet scent stirred her empty stomach, and for a few seconds, the only thought in her head was how good it would feel to sink her teeth into the cake, how the sugary taste would flow over her mouth like a river of sweetness.

"Is this normal?"

The girl's soft voice, barely more than a whisper, brought her back to reality, the cake inches away from her mouth. As she moved the cake down, Emmeryn turned to face the girl.

"Is what normal?" she asked.

"Crying a lot," the girl said.

"I don't know?"

The girl's lips wobbled. "I didn't cry a lot when I learned my father died."

Something crawled up the back of Emmeryn's throat. That... didn't make sense. Did it?

"Why?" Emmeryn said, her voice wispy and dry.

"Well, I wanted to cry. But my mother, she never did, so it just felt wrong. Am... did I do it wrong?"

The bitter taste of guilt filled Emmeryn's mouth. Her stomach churned, and suddenly she felt like throwing up.

What was she doing? She... she needed to be strong. For Chrom, and for Lissa. She was their big sister, and they needed her more now than ever. She couldn't be sitting in a corner by herself and eating cake.

The cake dish touched down on the platter with a clink. It took all her strength to tear her fingers from it.

"Thank you," Emmeryn said, turning to the girl. "T-thank you for your help."

"Huh? But I didn't help!" the girl insisted.

"Just... Y-you have your job to do, as do I." Emmeryn motioned toward the door, all while hoping the girl missed how her voice wavered.

The girl looked unconvinced, but in the end, she rose to her feet and headed for the door. As she watched the girl disappear, Emmeryn felt a voice in her head tell her to stop the girl.

Emmeryn shook her head, and the voice fell silent. She didn't have time. As long as her father's killer was running rampant, Chrom and Lissa might never be safe. No one had any idea what they wanted, but if it meant death to the Exalted family...

She would catch them first.


I did not expect this chapter to turn out so long. This is probably the longest I've ever written a chapter, bar anything I've done for The Yellow Soul. I stayed up quite late getting this out, but in the end, I got it done and I'm proud that I did.

While the first scene is certainly the longest, the third was probably the hardest to write. Since the characters involved are so young, I'd assume they might not have the best idea of how to handle death and all that jazz. It was tricky to find a balance between what little a child might know, and how I'd motivate Emmeryn back into action. In the end, I think I found a fair way to handle it, even if it's not all that fair to the characters.

Why do I do this? What did these characters ever do to me?

The next chapter will be up by next Tuesday. I can't promise it'll be as long as this one, but there was just so much stuff here I had to get down. As always, I wish you all well, and stay safe!