Chapter 2 – A Duel with Fate


Two years later

The Shepherds could be having a better time. It should've been a simple trip. Just talk to the Khan and get their support against Plegia, maybe throw in some trade agreements along the way to convince them. But apparently, the gods enjoyed making life difficult for the amnesiac tactician. It seemed Gangrel had sent various parties claiming to be Ylisseans ― and more than one impostor posing as the Prince Chrom of Ylisse―which had put the Feroxi on edge. The cold was not doing them any favors either, as the Feroxi garrison was clearly in their element and most of the Shepherds were not equipped for the cold weather that was assaulting them.

It was a miracle that no one had yet died of frostbite.

Robin flattened his body against the great wall of the Longfort, trying to evade the arrows raining down upon them. He was thankful there were no machicolations on this part of the fort or they would've been turned into pincushions by now.

As he tried to warm himself with his thick cloak, Robin analyzed the situation at hand. The month since awakening in that field had been filled with excitement and a few battles, but it was nothing like attacking a fort manned by a professional military. Normally, attacking a fortress such as the Longfort with just a small squad would be suicide, but for some reason, the Feroxi had decided to open the gate for them. From what he recalled of the Feroxi, they were a warrior people, so it was likely that they didn't consider them enough of a threat and saw a chance to test their mettle.

Joy.

Strategies started forming in his head, looking for the best way to disable the guards of Regna Ferox. Killing them would do little for their cause, but he couldn't risk the lives of his new comrades to spare those of his opponents. A conundrum he promised to overcome.

He needed to succeed here. Chrom had given him an opportunity that he couldn't waste. Waking up in a field with no memories and only the clothes on his back and his name, he had no other paths to take. He would succeed in every mission his Lord gave him.

Taking inspiration from Sumia's rescue of the prince, he started issuing orders, pairing people to increase their battle potential. "Sumia! Take Miriel with you and start taking out the archers with long-range magic! Keep moving and use wind spells to repel the projectiles! Do not kill the guards or our efforts will be for naught! Vaike and Sully will take the right staircase while Frederick charges through the left one. Anna and Lissa will heal the wounded while Stahl and Donnel cover their backs! Virion, aim for disabling shots! Chrom! You and I will take on their general. If we're lucky and manage to disable her, we can force the enemy soldiers to stand down."

"What about me, Robin?"

"Ahh!" Robin jumped back, taking out his Thunder tome, ready to fight. "Who are you?!"

"Um, I'm Kellam, a Shepherd," explained the knight. "We've met before, in the capital."

The situation was salvaged by Chrom. "Kellam! When did you get here?!"

"...The same time as you. I've been with you all along," Kellam said in a dejected tone. "Er, I am still a Shepherd, right? It's quite an honor, after all. I'd hate to lose it. Sometimes I—"

"Of course, Kellam. Forgive me," Chrom answered sheepishly, scratching his head in embarrassment. "You're just so… quiet that I completely—"

"Quite all right, sir, quite all right. I've been told I'm easy to miss," the knight replied, in sudden good cheer.

Chrom chuckled, despite the recent close call with death. "I'm just glad the Feroxi didn't find you first!" The prince turned to his new tactician, who was watching the interaction in apprehension. "Robin, it's OK. He's with us."

The tactician relaxed a bit, taking in the new heavily armored knight. "Right… Okay, you'll go with Frederick. Support him against archers with your shield, but beware of any mages or hammer-wielders; they can turn your insides to paste. Come on, Chrom! We need to end this, fast!" Sully and Vaike hesitated only a moment, before reluctantly following his orders.

The Shepherds fought with skill and coordination rarely seen in a militia. Robin's pairing proved to be extremely effective, with the pairs covering each others' weaknesses. Robin and Chrom fought like a well-oiled machine, with Robin's magic complimenting Chrom's brute strength. The Feroxi were fierce, but they fought individually, making it the only real challenge not to kill them.

They finally reached the top of the bailey and the entrance to the castle that connected to the land beyond. Waiting for them stood Raimi, the captain of the Guard, with a mage and a warrior flanking her sides.

The knight's face twisted into a snarl. "I must compliment you. You fight very well for Plegian dogs. It's almost a shame to kill you, but we won't tolerate this insolence any longer!"Not giving them the opportunity to speak, she shouted at her guards, "Take them out!"

Robin engaged the mage, a tall woman with thick robes. She didn't waste any time before she started sending fireballs at tactician barely dodged the attacks, feeling the hot air far too close for his comfort. Focusing on his Thunder tome, he let go of a bolt of golden electricity towards the floor close to the mage. Without the incantation to guide it, the magic exploded the stone at her feet, sending her flying with a startling cry.

He took a moment to catch his breath and saw that Chrom had already knocked-out the warrior and was now engaging Raimi. Robin was about to help the prince when another fireball flew wide past him. The mage had managed to recover and stood shakily through pure anger. It was only her tired condition that made stopped the rage-filled spell from hitting him.

Forgoing the incantation once more, Robin launched a weak bolt of electricity towards the woman's hand as his tome burned out. Both spells clashed, exploding outwards, and sending both combatants flying. Robin hit the stone floor, knocking his breath out, just as his opponent hit the opposite wall with a sickening crack. Crawling shakily to his feet to take a closer look, he was glad to see she was still breathing, but most certainly broke something.

Turning around, Robin froze as he saw Chrom lose his footing on the frozen stone. Raimi bashed her shield against the prince's chest. Chrom hit the floor, with Falchion slipping out of his grasp. The tactician could only watch in horror as Raimi pinned his friend down with her boot on his chest, preparing her spear to deliver the finishing blow.


Time froze for Chrom, as he saw the knight rise her spear up, aiming directly at his heart.

'I can't fall here! Ylisse needs my help! I can't fail Lissa and Emmeryn!' he thought in desperation.

Raimi looked at the fallen prince with contempt. "Goodbye, your majesty!" she said, his title dripping with heated sarcasm.

Unable to free himself, and backup too far away, Chrom could only steel himself for the blow that was to end his life. Chrom gritted his teeth, and couldn't believe this would be his end. 'I'm sorry, everyone…'

The blow never came, for a gale of magical wind slammed against the armored woman, sending her flying across the stone floor with a startled cry. Sparks flew as her armor scratched the surface, her weapon lying far from her reach.

Chrom greedily filled his lungs with the cold air, trying to calm his nerves. Looking up, he saw a familiar purple cloak slowly crossing his field of vision, hood covering their features. 'Robin? No… It can't be! He was back there...' Turning his head to the side, he confirmed that his tactician was indeed on the other side. Chrom's face was a mixture of relief and confusion at this sudden turn of events.

Raimi's voice broke him out of his daze. "You?! What's the meaning of this?! What are you doing here, sellsword?!"

The wind made it so that the prince could barely catch the voice of his savior.

"Stand down, Raimi. These really are the Shepherds, and that–" the newcomer said, pointing at the fallen prince. "–Truly is Prince Chrom Lowell of Ylisse. Look closely at the glow in his brand."

Raimi's eyes widened at the statement, taking a closer look at the brand. She finally noticed that his brand glowed slightly, taking on the texture of a dragon scale. Not a mere tattoo or painted fake could replicate the effect. She froze, as she realized the mistake she made.

"Let them pass. They must have important business with the Khan if they are willing to risk their lives against a heavily fortified gate," the newcomer said.

Raimi grimaced and nodded. She took a horn from her ship and blew it. The sound was soon followed by her own bellow. "EVERYONE! STAND DOWN! THESE TRULY ARE WHO THEY CLAIM TO BE."

The sound of fighting finally stopped, and Raimi moved to pull him up to his feet. "My apologies, Prince Chrom, I thought–"

"It's alright. Truly," he said with a shaky smile. "You were only doing your duty. I'm just thankful you didn't kill us right away."

The woman grimaced at that but nodded. "I will check there are no casualties on either side. Wait here while I gather some medics."

Chrom nodded and watched her leave.

The figure moved closer to the fallen prince, who kept his eyes on them at all times. The figure just kept walking forward towards the gate to the tower, not paying Chrom any mind. Stopping at the door, they spoke without bothering to face the royal. Their tone was cold and carried some emotion he could not discern.

"…You should consider armor and boots made for fighting in this weather, your majesty."

With that sentence, they disappeared into the fortress leaving behind a dumbfounded prince.


Robin slowly made his way to his friend when Lissa blew past him in a rush, barely stopping herself from tackling her brother. Her face was pale and her hands trembling as she looked over her brother.

"Chrom! Are you okay?! Oh gods, you almost died! You idiot!" she fired off quickly, waving her staff around.

The prince stood shakily, using the recovered Falchion to support himself and his aching ribs. "Y-yeah… It was close, but that stranger saved me," he said while letting the healing magic of his sister wash over him.

Robin frowned. His mind kept wandering to the person with robes far too similar to his own. Another tactician just appeared and saved him? It was a bizarre coincidence.

Frederick came from behind them with the rest of the Shepherds. "Are you sure you don't know them? Their cloak is quite similar to yours, Robin," the knight commented. His eyes then narrowed with suspicion towards the tactician. "It's awfully convenient that they just–."

"Frederick!" shouted Chrom. He did not like the accusations being thrown at his new friend.

Robin returned the glare, a scowl firmly in place. "Are you insinuating something?"

The Great Knight stared impassibly. "Just that the situation is awfully suspicious. First, we find a so-called amnesiac in the fields and welcome him into our flock, and as soon as our Lord is in danger, another tactician shows up? Don't think that I haven't noticed the Plegian symbols on your cloak."

The tactician gritted his teeth at the accusation. He already had enough pressure on his shoulder without any accusations. Chrom granted him a chance at life when he didn't have to, and Robin would repay that kindness with his life. He knew the militia's trust was tentative unlike that of Chrom and Lissa. Sully, Frederick, and Vaike were quite vocal about their reluctance to him due to his apparent connection to Plegia.

"That's enough, Frederick! Robin has done nothing but proven his loyalty since he joined us. He had multiple opportunities to lead us to our deaths if he had worked for Plegia. I won't hear more baseless accusations!" Chrom's tone brooked no argument, his worth as a prince shining through. Robin truly appreciated the trust Chrom had in him, and he would not disappoint the prince.

Frederick wilted slightly at the anger of his liege. "My apologies, sir, but I only have the best intentions when I look out for House Lowell." Bowing his head, he left to tend to their mounts and gear, not wanting to upset the prince any further.

A clank of armor alerted them of Raimi's return, spear and shield firmly on her back. She stood before them before bowing to the bluenette. "Once more, a thousand apologies, Prince Chrom, Princess Lissa."

Chrom relaxed, glad that the fighting was over. "There is nothing for you to apologize for. These are dangerous times, and Gangrel is not above using dirty tricks to achieve his goals. You did what you thought was best. What about your troops? Are they alright?"

"We have some injuries, but nothing serious," Raimi assured her, giving her a polite smile. "Thank you for healing them, Princess Lissa."

The princess smiled back. "No problem! If there are more injuries, I'm here to help!"

Raimi chuckled and smiled. "Thank you, but I already called for the healers stationed here. I will send word of your arrival to the Aurelis, and escort you to the Khan personally."

"That would be most appreciated, thank you," Chrom said.

Raimi nodded and left to make preparations for their departure.

Robin couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. "Amazing. Her whole demeanor changed. I guess it's just as Miriel said. 'In Ferox, strength speaks louder than words.' We should have known better than to overestimate the value of diplomacy here..."

"That's true. I really should've paid more attention to my tutors when they spoke about Regna Ferox politics. I always enjoyed the warfare lesson more," Chrom admitted sheepishly.

Giving a snort at that confession, Robin then turned to see that the Shepherds were helping the wounded Feroxi and that there was no bad blood between them. Thankfully, the injuries were nothing serious and they were being easily patched up by Anna and Lissa, who were helping despite Raimi's assurances. Some were even laughing now that they knew the truth, confessing they enjoyed the fight.

He should probably apologize to that mage once she wakes up…

That line of thought brought him back to the near-death of his friend. He made the plan, missed key factors like proper equipment and the terrain. They might not have expected to fight the Feroxi, but it was his responsibility to plan for everything. They both could have died had it not been for that unexpected savior.

Raising his head, he directed his gaze at Chrom, self-deprecation clear in his voice. "Chrom… I'm sorry, I almost got us killed. I was supposed to have your back, and yet I failed you. I―"

Whatever he wanted to say was silenced when the prince put a firm hand on his shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for," Chrom assured him. "The fault is mine. I was overconfident. And our preparations for this climate were for traveling, not fighting. That's on me."

That didn't sit well with the amnesiac. "But I was supposed to watch your back! What kind of a tactician would let their commander fall?!"

"Enough. You don't have to be so hard on yourself," Chrom said with a tone of finality. "You got blasted into a wall to keep that mage at bay. I wouldn't have been able to handle all of them without you. If you still feel bad, just learn from this, as I did."

As the prince walked away, Robin thought about those words. He could learn from this and improve. He would not fail them when again. A tug on his arm broke him out of his introspection. Glancing to his side, he saw the concerned look on Princess Lissa.

"Hey, don't look so gloomy!" she said, giving him a bright smile that he tried to reciprocate. "I can tell you're worried. You always try so hard to keep us safe but take care of yourself too, ok? We are a team, so there is no need for you to shoulder all the blame."

"I… will try." He was still a little depressed at his performance but was also happy his only friends were not angry at him. He didn't know what he would do if they abandoned him, or blamed him for something.

That was not a scenario he wanted to consider.

"Glad to hear that!" Lissa said cheerfully, patting him on the back. "Now come on! I need to check you over for concussions and burns. That was a nasty fight!"


While the politics of the kingdom were not Chrom's favorite topics, he could recall quite a lot about ancient history and castle construction. That made it easy for him to see the echoes of ages past when this was still the capital of the Kingdom of Aurelis. Changes had certainly be done to the stonework through the ages, but remnants of the past were still present.

Those changes, though, had turned Aurelis into a veritable fortress.

The outer city was small but still protected by a tall wall. The inner castle had all of these defenses along a deep motte and multiple baileys that would smash any army that attacked its gates. Both layers of defense were lined with towers filled with artillery, murder holes, and machicolations that would make an assault against it or the inner castle a massacre.

It only made him realize how poorly managed the defenses of his capital were. Even the marches they passed on the way had stronger defenses due to being close to the borders with both Plegia and Regna Ferox, but even they paled to this single castle.

Crossing the deathtrap they called gatehouse certainly drove the point home. He would've to discuss this with Robin and Emmeryn later. They need to be ready.

The interior of the castle was quite different from Ylisstol's. It carried an air of practicality instead of that of extravagance. Plain stone walls were adorned with paintings of great battles instead of mere pretty artworks. Pelts were hung on the walls, along with trophies from past victories. A fitting chamber for a ruler of the warrior people of Regna Ferox.

Raimi addressed the crowd that followed her. "Prince Chrom, please wait here while I summon the khan."

Chrom nodded in approval, glad that things were moving forward. "Of course."

"The khan is away?" Robin probably was expecting for them to receive their audience immediately, as had happened with Emmeryn.

"He must be out training, I'd wager. The khans of Ferox prefer battle to politics. Or rather, battle is their politics," Chrom said, ruefully.

If the look on his face was anything to go by, Robin's mind was forming an image of the ruler of Ferox. "A warrior-ruler, eh? I can picture him now… A giant of a man of unparalleled thew, his broad chest covered in hair, heh..."

"Am I now? ...Please, do go on!" A woman's voice interrupted, spearing right through Robin's train of thought.

"Huh?" The tactician eloquently expressed the collective confusion of the group.

"You're the—?! Er, that is to say... The khan, I presume?" The prince managed to muster all his royal education to try to maintain a modicum of decorum.

A tall woman entered the room, her dark skin and blonde hair glistening with sweat. She was covered in red armor, carrying an engraved broadsword and a tall shield. The Khan was clearly amused at their reaction if the smug smirk on her face was any clue.

It was like putting Sully on Emmeryn's position. A terrifying thought. One that he will take with him to the grave.

"One of them, yes—the East-Khan. My name is Flavia. I apologize for the trouble at the border, Prince Chrom. You are welcome in Regna Ferox." Flavia introduced herself, taking a measuring look over her guests. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the tactician, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Gathering his wits, Chrom accepted the apology with grace. "Thank you, but I'm confident we can put that misunderstanding behind us. Is it true bandits posing as Ylisseans have been ransacking your borders?"

Flavia didn't bother to hide her snarl. "Yes. Those Plegian dogs! We found documents proving as much on the corpse of one of their leaders. Plegia must see some benefit in raising tensions between our kingdoms. They haven't attacked the western gate, but they have been sailing smuggling parties on the edge of the easter wall. "

"Damn them! I... Forgive me, Your Grace. That was… indelicately put." Emmeryn and Maribelle would kill him if they had heard that.

To his surprise, Flavia threw her head back and laughed. "Ha! Damn delicacy and fuck those dogs! Here in Ferox, we appreciate plain speech."

"In that case, you should have words about dealing with these damn dastards..."

"...Ha ha! Now that's Feroxi diplomacy! Yes, I like you already. I know why you have come, Prince. But regrettably, I cannot provide any Feroxi troops for Ylisse at the moment."

"What?! Why not?!" Lissa shouted, afraid of the implications.

"I lack the authority," the Khan explained simply.

"Forgive me, but I don't understand. Aren't you the Khan?" Chrom asked, confused at the situation.

Flavia nodded, "As I said, I am one of the khans. In Ferox, the khans of east and west hold a tournament every few years. The victor acquires total sovereignty over both kingdoms, though for the most we each ruler our regions West-Khan won the last tournament, you see, and that means they have the final say when it comes to forging alliances"

Chrom's face fell, dread growing in his chest. "So we are to receive no aid at all?"

"Not if you always give up so easily!" The Khan reprimanded him. "The next tournament is nigh, you see, and I expect my champion to win."

The prince frowned. "What does that have to do with us?"

"The captain of my border guard informs me your Shepherds are quite the formidable team. I already have a capable champion, but if you can beat them I would have a better fighter on the ring. And if you win the tournament, I would become ruling khan and could grant your alliance. It would certainly help impress the rest of Ferox, too. A motivated army that respects the strength of their commander is a deadly force," Flavia explained.

"I would have assumed Ylisseans had no place in such Feroxi traditions," Chrom said. He really didn't want to cause a diplomatic incident.

"Ha! On the contrary. The khans themselves do not fight—they choose champions to represent them. Otherwise, our land would be rife with blood feuds and dead khans! We don't involve comrades or kin for the same reason."

Chrom grimaced at that. "Yes… Powerful houses and families can hold grudges for ages. Ylisse has its fair share of internal disputes."

"Indeed. That's why over time, it was decided that the tournament should be fought by outsiders or people with no attachments to the khans. They are granted the chance for glory, prestige, and gold, and we avoid such political shit," Flavia said as if it was such a simple solution. She then frowned in thought. "Although the outsiders have never included foreign royalty. ...That I know of! Ha! Regardless, it is your choice to make."

Chrom thought over her words. If he won and impressed the Feroxi, he would earn not only their swords and but also their respect. That would help him when the time comes for him to lead them. The reasoning was sound. Looking over to his tactician, he received a nod of encouragement. That was all it took to make his decision.

"There is no choice, East-Khan. My people are desperate. We face not only Plegia's constant attacks but now the added threat of the Risen. If your victory in the tournament is the quickest way to an alliance, then we need to ensure the best fighter is in the ring," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

"Ha ha! Oh, I like you, Prince Chrom. Come, I'll show you my personal arena. Guards! Go fetch my champion!" The guards saluted and left the chamber. Flavia looked at Chrom with a smirk. "Be wary, prince. None of my warriors—not even me—have won a single fight against this mercenary."

The prince's face showed his determination. "Any obstacle shall be defeated by Ylisse's necessity."

"Well-spoken again—I look forward to seeing if you're equally skilled with a blade as with words!"


The stands of the small arena were host to a very nervous group of Ylisseans. One of the two fighters would be the one to decide the fate of Ylisse. Ylisse needed the Feroxi troops. Their military simply didn't have the numbers to match the Plegian army without leaving all their territories undefended. It would be safer for them if Chrom is the Champion. They knew his strength and could trust him.

Just like construction they have seen in Ferox so far, the arena was pragmatic in design. It consisted of a simple ring about ten meters deep, with the spectator seats along the edge. Chrom stood at the center of the arena, waiting for his opponent.

No one could interfere in the fight, but they at least had a nice view of the incoming fight.

Flavia sat with them, eager to observe the battle. A gong rang across the chamber, signaling the arrival of the champion. "Be ready, Prince Chrom! Here comes your opponent!"

The gate on the other side of the ring opened for the Khan's champion. Despite the situation, the Shepherds couldn't contain their excitement. They were eager to watch this champion fight one of their strongest members.

A hooded figure finally entered the field, their metal grieves resonating with the stone floor. The person stood as tall as the Prince, with an intricate sword held on their hands. Their body was protected by a black chest-plate with silver engraving, with matching greaves and gauntlets. The rest of their visible armor was composed of boiled leather and chainmail. A red sash across their waist held a tome and scabbard. The hood of a familiar purple cloak with gold details covered their face.

The Shepherds were shocked by the similar attire to Robin's making them wonder if there was a connection between the two. Robin himself was conflicted at the sight. The person didn't stir any lost memories, even now that he had a closer look, so he didn't want to get his hopes up. They didn't react to his presence at the Longfort, after all.

"You! You were the one that saved me at the gate!" Chrom shouted in surprise. "I didn't have the opportunity to thank you for saving my life. I owe you my gratitude."

His opponent just tilted their head in acknowledgment, but Flavia interrupted before they could utter a single word. "Oy! Leave the chit-chat for later! This is an arena, not a tea house! Let's see some fighting!"

"Ah. Yes, of course. We can continue this later," the prince said with finality, as both combatants took their spots on the field.

Robin looked at the contestants with worried eyes. Since his first battle in Southtown, he could always gauge the strength of his opponents with almost supernatural efficiency, and what he saw worried him.

The champion carried themselves with confidence, strength, and experience. The tome and sword indicated that they were proficient in both magic and swordsmanship, just like himself. Certainly a tougher opponent than the untrained bandits or the mindless Risen they fought so far.

The only thing they could now was to place their faith in their prince.


The prince stood ready, his hands gripping Falchion with conviction. 'No ice slip nor cold to slow me down. That armor must slow him down, and the hood will reduce his visibility. My speed will be the key to victory here. I need to win here, even if I owe them my life.'

Flavia stood and shouted the rules of the match. "Alright! As per Feroxi traditions, as long as there is no outside interference, everything goes! Killing is allowed, but no killing a disabled opponent. If one contestant surrenders, the fighting stops immediately! And I clear?" The prince could see that his comrades wanted to protest the killing rule.

"The rules are acceptable." His command silenced their objections, but clearly not easing their minds. "Really, trust in my skills," he said through a smile. His opponent just tilted their head, apparently not impressed at the dismissal of their strength. "Can we agree to refrain from killing?"

A polite nod was his answer.

The combatants took their stances, hands firmly on their blades. The world faded away as both fighters focused entirely on one another.

The sound of the gong was his only warning to prepare as his opponent exploded forward, closing the distance in an instant.

'Fast!'

Instinct took hold of him as he blocked the strike with his holy blade. It was probably the only thing saving him from being bisected, as the strength behind the blow was enough to push him back.

Chrom was hard-pressed to defend himself against the barrage of slashes and thrusts launched against him. The prince tried to muster as much strength as he could to push back, but the hooded warrior was like a boulder. In an unexpected move, his opponent grabbed Falchion by the hole on its hilt, locking them in place. He barely had time to grit his teeth before an armored knee was rammed into his stomach. Bending over at the loss of breath, he received a head-butt, breaking any focus he had.

Feeling a warm liquid dripping from his nose, he knew first blood had been drawn. Shaking his head to clear the pain, Chrom was surprised to see his opponent a few feet away, waiting in a relaxed stance. He gritted his teeth at the thought of being dismissed so easily, but he could respect the strength they had to back up their confidence.

"Your strength is truly impressive. I can certainly see how you defeated all the other contestants," the royal praised despite his pain. "I haven't fought a man such as you before. You truly are a man worthy of admiration." Maybe he was laying it a bit thick, but he felt they had earned it.

The champion tensed, the grip on their blade tightening. A snarl appeared on their lips and he could almost hear their teeth grind together. The prince was surprised by this reaction. 'Did I said something wrong?'

His opponent lifted their hood slightly, Chrom could see their face a little better. Violet eyes glared at him, filled with an unexpected amount of hostility.

"I am a woman, asshole," a clearly feminine voice snarled, soft and sharp at the same time.

The prince sputtered at that. "Wha—?" Taking a closer look at his opponent he felt like an idiot. The chest plate was slightly wider at the front to accommodate for her breasts. Her cloak and armor hid a lot, but if he looked closely he could see the clear feminine contour of her if he could only see their mouth, her lips and chin were too soft and narrow to be a man's. 'Oh, gods.

'First Flavia and now her? Am I cursed to offend every warrior woman in Ferox?' He heard someone face-palm at his blunder, only for the sound to be swallowed by the collective laughter of Flavia, Sully, and Vaike.

Chrom didn't need to look to know Frederick was leveling a disappointed glare at him, indicating another lesson in etiquette was scheduled in the near future. Maybe he could salvage the situation?

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it as an insult! It's just that...you're clearly an impressive fighter, and you don't move like any lady I know." As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he made the situation worse. 'Dammit! I know I'm getting an earful later…'

A scoff interrupted his mental reproach as the champion took a relaxed stance.

"Really, Prince Chrom. I expected more from one of such noble lineage," she said, giving him a once-over. She pursed her lips, the rest of her face hidden once more. "Maybe you should quit and let win this tournament. You don't want me to ruin that pretty face of yours. Your looks and title are clearly your only strong points with women. Clearly, it ain't skill or charisma."

The prince frowned at the insult. "That was uncalled for."

"Is it? Because so far, what I'm not impressed with what I've seen." Taking her stance once more, the champion spoke a challenge. "So far, I only see a little prince and his friends playing soldiers."

Now she was crossing the line. He could take some harsh words, not insults against the efforts of his comrades. "We've been defending Ylisse for years! I will not be talked down by a sellsword!"

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You think killing bandits and practicing with your friends is enough? With this level of skill, you wouldn't even be a challenge to the Plegian veterans in the oncoming war."

"How do you know there is a war coming?" he asked warily.

"You are here to recruit an army," she pointed out in a tone that made him feel foolish. "Anyone paying attention can see that war is on the horizon. And you still have much to learn if you want to win this war. If you win this army, are you prepared to use them? To lead them in battle knowing many will not survive? Both Ylissean and Feroxi lives will be in your hands."

This was not how he expected this interaction to go. There was some truth to her worlds. He was inexperienced leading armies and his people unprepared for the upcoming conflict. The peace his sister had brought to the country had weakened their might. The Ylissean Army barely qualified such, existing only on paper. While the cities could defend themselves, they couldn't mobilize without leaving them heavily undermanned.

Only the Shepherds and few patrols were the protectors of the Halidom's outer towns. It wasn't normally a problem, but bandit raids had increased as of late. He himself had experience against bandits, but they weren't the toughest opponents. The Risen weren't the smartest of threats either. Plegia had an organized army that never disbanded, and a lot of people thirsting for vengeance against Ylisse. He needed not only experienced warriors, but to get experience himself.

Still, he had to wonder why she was talking this. "Why are you telling me this?"

She tensed slightly and remained silent for a moment before replying, "...Does it matter? I'll allow you the first move, and I'll show you how much you still have to grow before you can protect your country."

Chrom accepted the challenge and steeled himself. This was an opportunity to learn and the prince charged forward, his swift slash easily blocked. Increasing the pressure, he continued to attack relentlessly, but it was no use. It was like she knew everything about his fighting style.

She either blocked with surprising strength or dodged with astonishing grace. A deadly combination that pushed him back. He was getting angry and anger at his lack of progress made him reckless. Something he inherited from his father.

'I need to end this now!'

He leapt back from the blade lock and jump into the air. At the apex of his jump, he started spinning down, using the momentum to increase the strength of his attack. His blade crashed forward, but it didn't impact metal or flesh. The stone floor cracked under the weight of the attack. The surprise on his face was replaced by pain as a kick smashed against his ribs.

"Flashy and predictable."

Rolling with the attack, Chrom stood using Falchion as support, panting in pain and exertion. He took a moment to look at the stands and saw the worried and angry looks of his companions. This distraction proved to be a mistake when an armored fist slammed into his windpipe, making him lose hold of his weapon.

"You need proper armor."

Choking on his own saliva, he couldn't block the next kick to his midsection or the barrage of punches that followed, slowly pushing him back. The attacks were brutal, the adrenaline doing nothing to cushion the blows. One last kick hit him in the chest with the force of war-hammer sent him crashing against the wall of the arena. He watched through bleary eyes as the cloaked woman rushed towards him, blade pointed at his face.

"Checkmate!"

The situation was horribly familiar. Once again, he couldn't do anything against his opponent. Closing his eyes in reflex, he could still clearly hear the shouts of horror from the Shepherds resounding through the arena. To his surprise, the only pain was from a small wound on his cheek as the blade pierced the stone at the side of his head.

Opening his eyes, the prince saw a pair of violet eyes piercing his blue ones. He could've sworn her eyes glowed an eerie red for a moment before she leaned forward to speak into his ear,

"I didn't save your life just to end myself." He almost shuddered at her icy tone, carrying a hint of something he couldn't place. It felt like anger and scorn, but he couldn't understand why. "You're unarmed and at my mercy. Any action you take will only end in your defeat or death. You can't always expect someone to save you. There is a place for valor, just like there is one for caution. Concede defeat, there is no shame in losing to a superior opponent."

Once more, stubbornness reared its head, as he struggled through pain and exhaustion to no avail. "We need those troops. I can't fail my kingdom," he said, looking at her directly in the eyes.

"You will fail them if you die recklessly." The finality of her tone hit him like a slap to the face. "Some harsh words and your mind was clouded by rage, making you sloppier and more prone to errors. Gangrel would only have to insult you and you would run straight into his trap. Cut the head and the body will dumble. You die and the entire army falls apart. You need to master your emotions in combat or you will only lead others to their deaths."

With those words, he knew he had lost. If he led his soldiers with anger and stubbornness he would only get them killed, and he couldn't do that.

He would not become his father.

Swallowing his pride, he gritted out his answer. "I concede defeat." The gong rang, signaling the end of the battle.

"A wise choice. The first I saw from you today. Maybe there is still a chance for you," she said, sheeting her blade. "I apologize for the harsh words, but clearly they were necessary." With a polite bow, she began walking away.

"Hey! I didn't catch your name!"

The champion stopped, barely turning her head to look at him. "My name is Rose Sustrai. Thank you for the workout, your majesty. I wish you good luck with your campaign."


Robin's heart was hammering in his chest. The rest of the Shepherds looked ready to leap into the arena if it were not for the guards ready to stop them. Stahl was holding Sully back, just like Frederick was doing with Vaike. Both were snarling like rabid dogs held by their master. Sumia looked ready to cry, her nerves shaking at the sight of the beatdown laid on her lord. Even Miriel looked very conflicted. They all had taken lives before but never had they witnessed one of their own be so easily outmatched.

He still couldn't believe how easily this woman took Chrom apart. He was one of the most impressive swordsmen Ylisse had, and nothing he did worked on her. It was like she knew him inside and out.

They were all angered at her words. But then he understood that was part of her plan. By angering the prince she made him reckless and sloppier. All to teach him a lesson.

'A few mind-games and she played you like a flute.'

She was smart, experienced and well informed, and he could respect that. Breaking from the introspection, he saw their prince making his way towards them. His shaky smile did nothing to hide the pain of defeat on his face.

Lissa was the first at his side. "Chrom! Are you ok!? Are you hurt!?"

Chrom tried to shrug, only to wince in pain. "Mainly bruises, nothing broken. What hurts the most is my pride." As Lissa used her staff to mend his wounds, Chrom swept his gaze over his comrades, each of them showing worry in their own way.

Robin knew he had to ask the tough question. "Chrom, what are we going to do now? We need those troops."

The prince looked at him with a broken expression. "I don't know, Robin. We don't have many options le–"

"Stop with the pity party. Who said anything about not giving you your troops?" Flavia's exuberant voice broke through the gloomy atmosphere.

Robin and Chrom almost gave themselves whiplash at the proclamation. "What?! But you said we needed to win to get the troops!" the tactician almost shouted.

Flavia raised an eyebrow at that. "No. I said that if you beat her, that would mean I have a better fighter for the tournament and a better chance of becoming ruling Khan. This only means Rose is still my best bet. As long as she wins the tournament, I will still be able to help you. There is no way we're letting Gangrel have his way." She patted the prince in the back, making him flinch in pain,

"After being put flat on my ass, I think your chances of getting the title are pretty high..." Chrom begrudgingly admitted.

"I know, right?! But if it makes you feel better, you still lasted longer against her than any of my warriors. She made a stew out of them," the Khan praised.

"Huh, that does make my wounded ego feel a little better..." Chrom mussed.

Flavia snorted before taking a more serious tone. "She's right, you know? Had you continued to fight, I would have reconsidered my offer. We Feroxi like a good fight, but I won't throw away Feroxi lives in recklessness." The prince flinched at the tone, glad he swallowed his pride and accepted defeat. "You're still young, so accept the lesson and learn from it. It's better to live to fight another day than to die in a lost battle."

Robin could appreciate the irony. The same words the prince gave him earlier were now being thrown back at him twice in a few minutes.

"I will. I might not have commanded a large army before, but I won't waste the lives entrusted to me recklessly."

"That's good to hear. Now rest, my guards will escort you to the guest rooms, and tomorrow we depart for the Feroxi Arena. The trip will take a few days, but you can watch the tournament." With that, the Khan made her exit, leaving the Shepherds talking among themselves.

Robin saw Chrom grip Falchion tightly, with his face twisted by conflicting thoughts. Glancing at the gate in the arena, his thoughts were on the mysterious woman. Robin could only hope that she won the tournament, for the good of his new home.


She slammed shut the doors of her chambers. With shaking hands, she took off her cloak and armor. The monotonous motions only soothed her emotions for a short time as the adrenaline left her system.

Soon, her mask of confidence broke away. Her body started to shake as bitter tears came out of her eyes. Her fist slammed against the stone wall, cracking the sturdy rock as Ignis flowed through her muscles in response to her distress. Blood dripped for a moment before it flowed back into the wounds, healing them in an instant. The pain only proved a momentary distraction from her inner turmoil.

Changing her name and building a new identity for herself had not helped as much as the Fell Dragon had hoped.

"Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT! I thought I was ready to face them!" Rose nearly shouted through gritted teeth. "Two damned years preparing for this moment, and it's still painful to see them!"

She only wanted to use this fight to teach him a few lessons early. Better to learn them here than to cost others their lives.

But as the battle progressed, her bottled resentment boiled over. Each blow fueled by old anger that now had an outlet. After all this time, she couldn't move forward. It took all her will to keep her cool and not crumble and demand answers as soon as she saw him. Rose knew this Chrom was not responsible for her past. Hell, she didn't even exist in this world.

A bitter smile formed on her lips. "Tsk, the same insensitive idiot I remember… Somethings must be constant in all worlds."

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she could see her glowing red eyes glaring back at her. Willing their color back to normal, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "I need to get a hold of myself. I can't let my anger jeopardize everything I've worked for by taking it out on a… innocent."

Glancing at the window, she saw the outline of the Feroxi Grand Arena on the distance, "It matters not. another piece is in place. Soon, we shall face each other, Marth. I wonder, what will your reaction to me be? You might have my daughter's face, but that won't stop me from achieving victory."

It might have been petty. Chrom might win in this world too, but she couldn't risk it. Basilio could still side with Ylisse, or he could decide to face Plegia alone. He was more willful than even Flavia. Better to ensure that the variables remain the same.

With that thought, Rose went to get some rest, wishing for a dreamless sleep.


A/N: Rose is a broken woman and each timeline is a separate world. Even the futures are "separate" from their own pasts.

F!Robin/Robin has a stronger body thanks to her rebirth and Ignis. Ignis transform some physical strength into magic and vice versa. Here, she can use it creatively.

She also has multiple wars and years of experience over this Chrom, in addition to her familiarity with his style. He really didn't stand a chance.

Thanks to robotortoise, Shipping Rates Apply, and Victory3114 for their assistance editing the chapter.