Adjusting to being called Malin wasn't as hard as he thought. He didn't even completely realize it; he was too busy being glad he could be here at all. He had been asked to visit the castle on Morgan's birthday, and he had no oppositions—Robin and Chrom probably planned that out, too, just like how they planned to be in Malin's time for Marth's birthday. Having met with Morgan, they walked to the dining hall together without ever falling silent.

Everyone—Noire and Tharja included—were already there. Each one gave their own smile or nod, almost as if they had seen him earlier than day and he hadn't been gone for so long. Lissa was the first one to mention it, saying, "I haven't seen you in…what, twelve years? Not including your last visit when you wanted Falchion?"

"Just about," Malin replied. Morgan went to take a seat next to Robin, but Malin hesitated. His old mother, quick to notice, simply gestured to the empty chair on her other side. He took up the offer with a nod and smile. "Lil' Morgan was two, so if he's fourteen now then the math checks out."

"How long are you staying?" Lissa asked eagerly. "Because that means you have twelve years of babysitting to make up for!"

It seemed like a popular question; Robin and Morgan would want to know when he'll leave, too. A half-lie was Malin's answer, "I can only stay for a week or two. Marth wants me back as soon as possible, and I don't want to mess with the Mini Shepherds' mission schedule or anything."

They all seemed to accept that answer, and soon enough the staff brought in the food. Some of them seemed to almost recognize him—either from his recent visit to the castle or the time before—but the meal itself was what amazed him. The castle goers didn't live in quite as much extravagance as one would expect (they only made as much food as they could eat, which never led to particularly large meals unless they were hosting a particularly large amount of people), but the amount of food was more than Malin had seen in months. He wished, yet again, that Marth would let him bring supplies back with him. Just a small portion of a meal like this could feed the others so much better.

Malin didn't eat very much of the meal, but the conversation continued on throughout lunch. "Do you think Marth would let the other children come back?" Robin asked him. "Their parents would undoubtedly like to see them again, since you're here."

"If she's comfortable letting them go, she will," Malin replied, "But it's hard to say. She needs all the help she can get—the other eleven are her main supports, so she can't just say 'have a nice vacation, tell Chrom I said hi.'"

"She's working to rebuild your time, correct?" Lucina said.

Malin nodded, looking towards her to answer. "Grima destroyed almost everything. Marth's doing her best to return everything to normal, but there's challenges. We were gone for a year—in that year, things started getting a bit rough. Ylisse was a mess before Inigo came back. Regardless, when I get back I'll ask her if the others can come; they probably want to talk with their parents again, too."

The conversation moved on to something else afterwards. When lunch ended, Robin, Malin, and Morgan went to the tactics room for a friendly strategy game, staying there until dinner. It was after dinner than Robin walked Malin around the castle, stopping near one of the bedroom doors.

"You can sleep in your old room while you're here; it's just as you left it," Robin offered.

"Thanks," Malin replied. He opened the door, seeing that it was exactly as Robin said; the bed was unmade, the curtains were drawn back, and a few drawers were still partly open. The only change was that the ink he had used to write with had a cap on it so it didn't dry out.

There was silence between him and Robin, for a moment. "…Did you ever find who you were looking for?" She asked the question hesitantly, like she may already know the answer.

"I never found who I initially left to find, no," Malin said, shaking his head. "You were right about her—she's most likely dead. She comes up in a lot of stories and songs, being your mother, but not one of them is consistent save for how she lost her life. The tales go from murder to suicide, battle casualty to self-sacrifice. Still… I found Lucina. It took over a decade, but I figured out what happened to the other future kids. I got that part done, at least."

Robin gave him a reassuring smile. "You can say it plainly; no need to sound so mournful. I'm not angry at you—I never was. I understood what you wanted to do, I just…couldn't accept it."

"At least you came back to your family at some point," Malin replied. "I didn't—not really. I came in with an alias, dodged questions, and played dumb."

"You're here now, aren't you?" Robin allowed him one more kind look, then she turned to leave. "I won't restrict you from going anywhere. Make yourself at home, Morgan; until you have to leave, you're one of us."

For a second, as she left, Malin wanted to stop her. He couldn't even figure out why. Maybe he wanted to talk with her more; maybe he wanted to tell her that he had the option to stay for as long as he'd like. But he couldn't, because then Robin would be expecting it, looking forward to it—and he couldn't leave Marth alone, even if she had the others as company. So Malin let her go, and he started cleaning up his old room. He made the bed, closed the curtains and drawers, and put the writing tools away. Once that was done, he laid down and fell asleep.