These late nights and early mornings weren't unfamiliar to her, but they weren't entirely welcome; granted, most of it was self-inflicted, because nearly everyone who past her asked her to rest. But how could she, really? The world was in shambles; very few were willing to venture outside of safety, especially to go into Plegia. That place was but a wasteland now—Risen still dominated it, while Plegian immigrants fled to safer areas. Regna Ferox fared slightly better, but to those who've only known this chaos, Ylisstol was the only safe place.

Aside from that…she still battled her own thoughts, reminding herself of what she represented. She could easily remember all the time she spent as Marth; she could barely recall her childhood here as Lucina after spending so much time in the past. It had been over two decades, after all—there were still times when she almost called her brother 'Malin,' solely out of habit, or when she would reach for her mask when she heard someone approaching. But her brother was Morgan here, just as she was Lucina, and she no longer needed to hide her identity from others.

Lucina barely slept that night; she went to her tent so no one could say she didn't, but in truth she had other things to worry about. Waking up early the next morning, she got out of her tent, took her share of breakfast, and went back to work.

She wasn't at it for very long. It only took a few hours for Morgan to insist that she took a break, despite her protests. He wouldn't let her do anything else, however, so Lucina listened and left the tent she usually worked in when she wasn't in the castle. Everyone was working hard, and only a few looked like they did it unwillingly; with everything under control, Lucina willed herself to walk up the path to the castle. She didn't often come this way unless by necessity at any point in time—the reason being that she knew that, no matter when she came, there would always be something waiting for her. Whether it be a memory or a person, she often dreaded the encounter.

Lucina didn't need to push the gates open; they've been broken off along with the surrounding walls. The castle, once grand, now consisted of a single floor and a half-broken spire. First caused by Grima or Risen, it fell into disrepair after Lucina and the others left for the past. The courtyard was nothing as she remembered—very little held any color, and she knew that if she stepped far off the beaten path that she would end up on the graves of those who died while the castle was their only hope of survival. Graves were marked only with stones marking how large the hole was made, with a stone in the middle noting whose bodies were buried there. Some of them had as much as ten names, and no grave held only one body. Family members were often buried together, but there was a section off the beaten path that was reserved for those of royal blood.

She stepped carefully as to avoid walking on graves. A brief visit, and she'll continue working. It's been a very long time, after all…it wouldn't hurt her. In the corner of the courtyard was another gate, this one more intact, that led to a graveyard of sorts. There were many stones, some of which dated back to before Ylisse received its name, both marked as former royalty and trusted allies. The last in the row were the ones she wished to see; Chrom, Robin, Lissa, and Lissa's husband. Only the latter two had an actual body placed beneath them, because only those two bodies could be brought to Ylisstol for burial—instead, the other two held a box with some of their possessions. Lucina had watched them bury the trinkets herself; rings and clothes were passed down to their children, but things such as their favorite picture, a small object, and even a recipe for their favorite dessert were buried instead.

Lucina heard someone come behind her, so she nodded to the graves and turned to leave until she saw who was approaching. Morgan came in from the gate, observing all the graves and noting which ones Lucina was closest to. "I didn't know this was back here," Morgan said. "Are you all right?"

"You're the one who wanted me to take a break from work," Lucina pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but I didn't think you'd visit graves." Morgan walked further in to stand next to her, looking at the stones marking their parents' names. "…Let me guess: this isn't them."
"Father died in Plegia and Mother followed us to the past," Lucina reminded him gently. She looked back at the graves as well, trying not to sound sorrowful as she said, "Of course it's not them."

"Is there anything buried here, then?" Morgan asked.

"Trinkets," Lucina replied. "Underneath Father's is a sword he trained with when he was young, drawings of him, Mother, and us, and keepsakes meant for those he would never see again…anything he had on his person when he died."

Morgan hesitated a few moments before saying, "…And Mother's? It says she died on the same day Father did, but the grave looks freshly dug."

"While we were gone, someone chanced upon a letter," Lucina explained after a pause. "It was given to me a few days after we returned. The letter was written by Mother, presumably after she took the Fire Emblem and gave it to Validar. She acknowledged that she couldn't be forgiven, and she wrote that she wished it wasn't an ill omen for the halidom. More was written near the bottom, still in her handwriting, that briefly describes her role in Father's death and how she felt responsible. It's the last time we know of her having control over herself after Grima claimed her as his vessel."

There was silence for a what seemed to be a long time. Finally, Morgan asked, "Do you think, when Grima was controlling her…she wished she were dead?"

"As grim as it sounds," Lucina began quietly, "I have no doubt that she did. Her hand took lives, even if she wasn't necessarily giving the order; people say she held enough of herself to feel the pain of each life Grima took."

"I'm glad we went back and killed Grima first," Morgan said firmly, slowly recovering from the sorrowful moment. "The littles will never have to have this conversation; they don't need to talk about their dead parents in a courtyard surrounded by other people's graves."

"There are lots of things they don't need," Lucina agreed. She turned to leave, and Morgan followed her out. "This whole place is one of them. If they ever come here… I couldn't welcome them fondly, no matter if I wanted to or not."