Chapter 6: Future Children

or: Mother's Last Heirloom

The old man set a surprisingly quick pace for one needing a cane. Chrom struggled to match it.

"Say, have you seen my Warp Powder?" Old Hubba asked, looking around absently.

"No, I haven't. Now, as I was saying—"

"To answer yer question, nope, sorry," Old Hubba said, smiling wanly. "I don't got any reinforcements for ya."

Chrom frowned. "That's a shame. I thought you'd have some Einherjar to spare."

"'Fraid not. All of 'em were stolen from me before, so I've only got the ones you've recovered. An' they're all on other assignments—findin' more Einherjar, don't you worry."

"Hm. Guess we'll go it alone, then."

"Yep. At least you've got Marth, though."

Chrom flinched. Oh. Right.

Morgan was away on her own, readying the Shepherds for their mission to Jungby; if Chrom recalled correctly, Jungby was a small province of the mythical continent of Jugdral. History lessons abound.

And Lucina was off somewhere, similarly busy—and she had Marth's card. It would be very easy for Chrom to fulfill Marth's dying wish.

Chrom's hand tightened around the Caeda card in his pocket. "Old Hubba…"

The old man paused. "What's wrong, sonny?"

Chrom grimaced. Slowly, he drew the card from his pocket; Old Hubba curiously accepted.

"…Caeda." Hubba's eyes narrowed. "So… you went through with it."

"We had no choice," said Chrom. "Somehow, Marth… he… disobeyed me. He went after Caeda on his own, and he succeeded, but…"

Old Hubba's hand shot to his chest. He gripped his heart painfully. "Chr-Chrom, where's—where's his card?!"

"It…" Chrom breathed. He slowly built up his resolve, and said: "…It was destroyed, Old Hubba. I'm sorry."

Old Hubba hyperventilated. His eyes were wide with shock, and his grip on his chest tightened.

Chrom put a hand on Hubba's shoulder, fearing he had given the ancient man a heart attack. "Old Hubba, are you—?"

Old Hubba closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose. Slowly, he calmed.

"…Sorry if I scared ya, sonny," he said quietly, smiling again. He released his heart and placed both hands atop his cane. "It… It's all right. I forgive ya."

"I'm so sorry," Chrom murmured. "I know how much he meant to you…"

Old Hubba waved it away. "Don't worry about it. Ya make it sound like it was unavoidable, and I trust ya. Don't be too hard on yerself." He chuckled, waving around the card in his hand. "Bea woulda never forgived me if I'd let Caeda go. …Forgove? Forgiveded? Oh, whatever."

Chrom took a breath, smiling. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Every war has casualties," Hubba said. He offered the card back, and Chrom took it. "I'm just glad it wasn't a real person. Now! What were we talkin' about? Sigurd?"

"Sir Chrom!"

Chrom and Old Hubba turned to face the newcomer: the alternate Robin.

Robin grinned widely. "Listen. I talked with my husband, and we're going to pledge you our forces for the time being. It's the least I could do to make up for, uh, coming on to you last night. If I help you in this battle, we'll be even."

Chrom smiled. "Thanks, Robin. I couldn't ask for anything more." He scratched his head. "I guess… report to Morgan, then. She'll give you your orders. Hey, you two are tacticians, maybe you could put your heads together?"

Robin smiled. "Of course. See you later."

As she turned away from Chrom and walked back to her camp, Robin's smile slowly fell.

Robin wrung her hands anxiously as she approached. "H-Hey," she said quietly.

He glanced at her, surprised.

"Please tell me you're my Chrom," she demanded.

Alt-Chrom smiled. "'Til death do us part. What's up?"

Robin crossed her arms, looking away nervously. "Chrom… Chrom, I… I didn't make the right choice. I was stupid, and ignorant, and oblivious, to the real solution. …I-It's my fault that Grima still exists."

"Oh, Robin…" Chrom put his arms around her, resting his chin atop her head. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Y-Yes I have!" she said, upset. "I should have killed him. Th-Then, he would be dead, and I wouldn't have this—this fear, this fear in my gut, that—that—he'll return one day, and this awful cycle will repeat itself!" Tears brewed in her eyes. "Chrom, I screwed up! How many more people will die because of me?"

"Robin!" Chrom said—he took her by the shoulders, holding her at arm's length and staring her in the eyes seriously. "Stop thinking like that! There's no guarantee that you would've survived the process!"

"Since when has my life been more important than everyone else's?"

"Since forever!" Chrom shouted. "I will never—never!—let you go. I would have never allowed it." His eyes blazed with fiery determination. "Robin, our solution worked! Grima is no longer a threat. And say, in a thousand years, he returns? Well, we'll just put him right back where he came from, now won't we? And again, and again. Grima could never defeat the light!"

Chrom lunged forward, kissing Robin intensely. She threw her arms around his neck, equally enthusiastic.

Eventually, Chrom pulled away. "…We still won, Robin. And this way, I got to keep you."

Robin smiled tearfully. "Geez, you know just the right things to do to cheer me up, don't you…?"

Chrom shrugged. "It comes with marriage, wouldn't you say?"

"Heh!"

Brady scowled. It was his normal expression, though, so no big deal. "Ay. Cynthia. Good news."

"What's up, Brademan?"

He clenched his teeth. "Never call me that again." He gestured with his staff. "Last session, bud. This should put the finishin' touches up, finally."

Cynthia's eyes widened. "You mean—I can finally take this stupid cast off?!"

"Yeah. Finally won't have to see this ugly mug anymore."

Cynthia eagerly unlaced her cast, dropping the wrappings to the ground. She pressed her aching left arm against her abdomen as Brady lifted his staff. He stared intently at her forearm.

The staff glowed. Cynthia closed her eyes.

After a moment, the light stopped. "…Alright, we're done."

Cynthia wiggled her newly-fixed arm, beaming. "Finally!" She kissed her arm, overjoyed—and winced at the odor. "Ech! That smells awful!"

Brady shrugged. "Casts, man."

"So, can I fight today?"

"I dunno. Probably. Ask yer sister." Brady turned away. "See ya."

"See ya." Cynthia clenched a fist, shivering with excitement. Finally! I'm useful again!

A rough shoulder knocked him to the ground. He winced in pain, staying down.

"Who are you?!" the voice demanded, and a sword was leveled at him.

He winced, raising a hand to shade his eyes. "My name is Leif Faris Claus," he said commandingly. "Prince of Leonster, and heir to the throne of Thracia!"

"Liar!" The radiant blade pressed against Leif's neck. "Tell me the truth!"

Leif's eyes moved down. "I…" He sighed. "…I am not the true Leif. I am an Einherjar, made in his likeness."

The golden sword returned to its wielder's scabbard. "Good." He offered a hand, and Leif took it, rising to his feet.

Leif rubbed his bruised shoulder, irritated. "Geez… What was that about, Seliph?"

Seliph stood straight, maintaining his ever-present regal bearing, even as an Einherjar. He smiled at his friend. "I'm sorry, Leif. I had to be sure that you hadn't lost your knowledge of what you—what we—are."

"Seems like there was a better way to do it."

"Agree to disagree."

Leif sighed. "Anyway… It's good to see you, Seliph. It's been a long time."

"Indeed," Seliph said seriously. "And our meeting is not by chance."

"With you, it never is."

"Leif, listen to me," Seliph urged. "I have a plan. An important plan. And I need your help to enact it." He offered a hand. "Do I have your assistance?"

"Always," said Leif, accepting Seliph's hand without hesitation. "I would follow you until the end, old friend."

"Excellent," Seliph said proudly. "Now, do you know where we are?"

Leif looked around. "Is this… Verdane?"

"Right," said Seliph. "We are in an Outrealm similar to our homeland, Jugdral, but entirely devoid of its populace. Except for one place: a castle to the east. Evans, to be specific." Seliph grinned. "Let's go meet our parents, Leif."

"Jungby Castle," Cynthia said, in awe of the building. "It's so—mythical!"

Severa rolled her eyes. "Oh, gawds. We should've known bringing Cynthia to her dream land was a bad idea."

"Hey! Jugdral's really cool!" Cynthia said grumpily. "Just because you don't have a passion for anything historical doesn't mean I can't!"

"You are such a nerd," Severa muttered. "Why are you so cheerful, anyways? You know we're about to hit some combat, right?" She sighed irritably. "More fighting. I'm so done with this."

It was Cynthia's turn to roll her eyes. "You say that every time, but you don't do jack. You know what, Severa? You're all talk."

"Sorry if I don't brag about every little thing I do," Severa retorted. "Unlike you, I let my actions speak for themselves. I complain about other things."

"And complain you do," Cynthia said, nodding.

"Whatever." Severa dropped the conversation. Stop feeding the kid, she thought. I'm really wasting my breath on her…

…

Lucina's future

"UGGGGGGGGHHHHH."

Severa leaned against the wall, scowling. She could see everything outside of the fort for a mile, and, surprise surprise, nothing was happening.

"I HATE guard duty," she muttered. "Why can't I be out fighting, like Brady and his party?"

She spotted a silhouette appear in the distance. Her eyes narrowed. "And of all the people to be stuck here with…"

Cynthia waved, grinning from ear to ear as she flew closer atop her pegasus.

What a moronic—Severa frowned. Wait. Did she LEAVE with a pegasus? She peered over the wall, eyeing the stables—and sure enough, there was Cynthia's steed, munching idly on a hay bale.

"HEY, SEVERA!" Cynthia shouted, and she alighted next to Severa on the wall.

Severa winced. "I can hear you just fine, thanks." She gestured at Cynthia's mount. "You found a pegasus in the wild? Didn't think there were many left."

"I know, right?!" Cynthia chattered. "Can't believe I found it!"

"I know, I know," Severa groaned. "You love pegasi. Great. What're we even gonna do with it?"

Cynthia's face fell. "Wh-What do you mean?"

"I mean, we only have one Pegasus Knight among us, and that's you," said Severa. "And you already have your pegasus. This one's just gonna waste our feed."

Cynthia pouted. "You're not saying we should release it?" She dismounted. "Severa, that's horrible! They've already been practically hunted to extinction by Grima's goons."

"'Goons'?" Severa muttered crossly. Cynthia's childish word choices constantly irked her. "Cynthia, it's just a horse with wings. It's not like it's someone who can actually help us out and fight and stuff." She walked closer to Cynthia, her eyes watching the beast with contempt. "I can't believe you'd actually—"

Severa froze.

Cynthia furrowed her eyebrows. She tried to follow Severa's gaze, but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary on the horse. "Um, Severa?"

"That harness," Severa whispered. "D-Did you put that on the pegasus?"

"Hm?" Cynthia looked at the beast. "Now that you mention it, it had that harness on when I found it. Didn't think anything of it, for some reason."

Severa would normally have had a sharp retort for Cynthia's absentmindedness, but she was distracted herself. She wrapped her hand around the grimy harness, staring at the faded logo—the insignia for the squadron this pegasus had once belonged to.

"So what's the deal?" Cynthia asked. "What're you staring at?"

"This pegasus," Severa whispered. "It was my mother's…"

…

Present day

"So we don't know anything about the group that just arrived?"

Quan shook his head. "Sorry, Sigurd. The pegasus sisters just returned from scouting, but they couldn't get too close to the enemy for fear of being spotted." He grimaced. "What they did determine was that their force outnumbers ours by far. Palla estimated eighty combatants, to our twenty."

Sigurd scratched his chin, frowning. "Eighty… I wonder, do they come in peace?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Lyndis chimed in. "They're armed to the brim, and preparing for battle."

"Certainly we can come to a peaceful solution," said Sigurd. "They can't be brigands, with a force of that size. Surely they can see reason and back down without a fight."

An unfamiliar voice came from the doorway. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

Sigurd, Quan, Lyn, and Eliwood faced the two unfamiliar entrants to the conference room. Sigurd frowned at the blue-haired one—he looked so familiar, but—

Quan interrupted Sigurd's thoughts: "Who are you?" he asked harshly. His hand rested on his lance.

"At ease, Lord Quan," said the blue-haired boy, raising a peaceful hand. "We are your allies."

The brown-haired one stepped forward, staring Quan in the eyes. "You may not recognize me. I don't see how you would, to be honest—you've never met me as I am now."

Quan glared. "I'll ask again—who are you?"

"My name is Leif."

"And my name is Seliph."

Sigurd and Quan both recoiled. "Y-You're—!"

"It's true," said Leif. "We are your respective children."

"This may be hard to swallow, Father, but here's the truth. We are from the future." Seliph kept a composed expression as he lied to the room. "And we bear ill tidings."

"The invaders occupying Jungby," Leif began. "We must fight them if we have any hope of stopping what is to come."

Seliph couldn't resist a small grin. Leif had a way of twisting his words to still technically be true.

"And how are we to believe your assertion?" Eliwood posited. "You claim to have traveled through time?"

"I believe this will suffice as proof." Seliph moved to the center of the room and drew his sword. He gently placed the golden blade atop the table; as it left his grip, it lost its radiant shine.

Sigurd's breath caught, and he squeezed the sword's twin occupying his own scabbard. "The Tyrfing?! But how?"

Seliph placed his hand on the grip of the Tyrfing, demonstrating the blade's coming to life at his touch. "Only those with major Baldr holy blood may wield this sword," he stated. "That should be proof enough that I share your lineage, Father."

"A-And what of you?" Quan demanded, facing Leif. "Do you mean to tell me you've inherited the Gáe Bolg, as well?"

Leif smiled plainly. "I am afraid not, Father. My sister has that honor. All I have is this." He drew his sword, as well—the golden metal was unmistakably his mother's Light Brand.

Seeing Quan's expression morph into resigned belief, Leif sheathed his sword.

Lyn frowned. "Well, Sigurd? Quan? What do you say?"

Sigurd sighed. "…It pains me to say so, but it seems combat is unavoidable. I cannot distrust one of my own blood."

Seliph winced, briefly regretting his deception. I'm doing what's right, he assured himself. "Thank you, Father. It pleases me to receive your trust."

"If Sigurd places his faith in you, then so do I," Eliwood said, grinning confidently. "Welcome to the fold, Seliph and Leif. If we do have to fight them, I'm glad we have your help."

Seliph smiled. "Of course. We are honored."

Severa flinched at the touch on her shoulder. "Gah!" Her exclamation made Cynthia jump as well.

The alternate Morgan chuckled, a little surprised at Severa's reaction. "Sorry, I actually didn't mean to startle you."

Severa crossed her arms, scowling. "Oh, good. You're back."

Morgan beamed, in contrast. "Yep! We're fighting alongside you. Double the Shepherds, double the fun!"

"Your cheeriness is truly the most obnoxious thing ever."

"Oh, don't be like that. Severa, I think you and me, we'd make a great team in combat."

"Remember what I said about pick-up lines, idiot?"

A grin slowly grew on Cynthia's face as she realized what was going on. "No. Way. You guys totally like each other!"

Severa whirled on Cynthia, her hatred manifesting as a dark glower. On the other hand, alt-Morgan seemed pleased.

Cynthia giggled, growing more and more pleased with the situation. "Don't worry, lovebirds. I'll leave you two alone."

She strutted away, leaving a fuming Severa to deal with alt-Morgan.

Cynthia frowned; she was glad alt-Morgan had given her a reason to walk off on her own, to think.

'I can't forgive you unless Robin does.'

Her mood fell. Great. This is just great. She looked around, taking in the beautiful vistas of southern Jugdral. It didn't raise her spirits. Severa's right. 'More fighting, ugh, I'm a bitter ice queen who's mean to everyone.' But yeah, the longer we waste our time here, the less likely it is we'll find Dad…

Suddenly, her nose hurt—so she grunted, holding her smarting face. She quickly became aware of the reason why: Inigo stood in front of her, rubbing his similarly-smarting chest. She checked his hair color, and sure enough, it was the correct Inigo.

"Hey there," said Inigo bemusedly. "If I was a wall, that nose'd be broken! You all right, Cynthia?"

"Yeah." She dropped her hands. "What's up, Inigo?"

Inigo sighed. "So, the Outrealms are mystical and wonderful and everything—but there is one key problem!"

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "I bet I can guess. No girls?"

"Bingo! The villages are always empty, and there are no new faces to flirt with." He sighed again.

Cynthia brightened. "Well, what about the Einherjar? Surely one of them would be fine with a date."

Inigo's expression lit up. "Wha—Cynthia! That's brilliant!" His mouth watered at the thought of tea with Mia. "I should start as soon as…" He trailed off.

Cynthia patted him on the shoulder. "Good for you, buddy. See ya." She walked past him.

"Nuh-uh." Inigo moved in front of Cynthia. "I owe you. Whaddya need, Cynthia? Anything?" He winked. "Cup of tea, perhaps?"

"Well, I—" She paused, her mouth slightly open in disbelief. "Wait… are you flirting? With me?"

Inigo ran a hand through his hair, grinning. "That depends on your answer."

Cynthia's eyes narrowed. "…What's this about? You've never flirted with me before. I'm always the wingman."

"Ha! Impossible!" Inigo scoffed. "You speak to the master of flirting, yet claim he has missed a target?"

"Oh, boy. You know how girls just love being called 'targets.'"

"Er—"

"Anyway, since I know you'd be all creepy about it, I'm gonna take a raincheck on that tea," said Cynthia dryly. "See ya."

"Now hold on," Inigo said. "If I can't offer you tea, allow me a different opportunity to thank you for your generous advice."

Cynthia crossed her arms, growing irritated. "Would you stop? Come on, Inigo, we've known each other way too long for you to act like this around me."

Inigo's face fell. "…I guess you're right. Sorry, Cynthia. You just seemed to be upset, and I know how my flirtations cheer you up, so I thought I'd give them a try."

Cynthia blinked. "What? Really?"

Inigo nodded seriously. "Of course! I thought spreading my infectious cheer would help your mood."

"You know why I find your flirting hilarious, right? …Like, 'ha ha, look at the fool Inigo is making out of himself'?"

Inigo pouted. "I didn't need to know that much."

"Sorry." Cynthia breathed in. "Thanks anyway, Inigo. I guess the thought counts."

"If the thought counted, then I would never fail in picking up girls," Inigo said, oddly dead serious. "The thought does not count, Cynthia. Allow me to do something meaningful and be a helpful ear. We've been friends for a very long time; I think you should be able to open up to me."

"Inigooo…" Cynthia groaned. That'll show him.

"Cynthiaaa," Inigo rejoindered.

Dang! Cynthia crossed her arms. He has a point with that one.

"No. I refuse to keep calling you that."

Morgan's face fell. "Wh-What? How come?"

Severa huffed. "Because! 'Morgan' is taken. I'm not going to call you that."

"B-But it's my name!"

Severa closed an eye, smirking. "Hm! Does that make you mad?"

He sighed. "N… No…" He brightened. "Oh! Why not call me 'alt-Morgan' then? Pretty much everyone else is using that."

"Definitely not. That sounds horrible. I'm never gonna let that word cross my mouth."

"W-Well—Well—What're you going to call me, then?" He was growing distraught.

"I could just use 'Idiot' as your name, since I'm always calling you that anyway. Or 'Creep.'"

He looked down. "G-Geez, Severa… What do you want from me? What'd I do wrong?"

Severa scowled.

He looked up at her, and suddenly, an idea sprouted in his head. A tiny smile appeared on his face as he became more and more pleased with this idea. "What if… you called me Linfan instead?"

"What."

"Linfan," he repeated. "It's a name my mother almost gave me. It's from another language, and is gender-neutral like Morgan. Basically a linguistic equivalent." He grinned. "Yeah! Call me Linfan. Then it'll be easy to tell me apart from your Morgan!"

Severa's smugness disappeared. "Wh-Wh—You're not supposed to take it so easily!"

Morgan—Linfan—continued to grin. "Hey, I've always been a fan of 'Linfan.' I'd be happy to go by that! 'Morgan' was getting a little stale, anyway."

Severa's lips parted, as though about to speak, but she couldn't find appropriately venomous words.

…

Lucina's future

"I want you to know that I'm not happy about any of this," Severa muttered. She pulled the coarse brush through the pegasus' dirt-matted mane; if this horse had been in the wild for as long as Severa suspected, then this was its first brushing in years. "You're just inconveniencing me now."

She glared over her shoulder, at wherever Cynthia was inside the fort. "If it weren't for Cynthia's bleeding-heart rhetoric, you'd be back in the wild where you came from."

Severa resumed brushing, grimacing at the difficulty of the action. She tugged at the brush, trying to dislodge a particularly persistent clod of dirt.

She gritted her teeth and pulled—the brush was thoroughly stuck in there, now. She plucked some dirt out with her fingers, scowling, and gave the brush another tug.

She accidentally put too much force behind the pull, however; the dirt easily came loose, and the momentum knocked her onto her back.

"Ugh! Gods!" she hissed, climbing to her feet. She ran a hand through one of her now-dirt-covered red pigtails. "Stupid beast! Do you know how hard this is going to be to get out?!"

She turned on her heel and stormed back into the fort, throwing the brush on the ground.

Severa gestured with her fork, talking with her mouth half-full as she ranted. "…And what I don't get is, why was this damn pegasus so close to the Feroxi border anyways? Stupid creature!" She stabbed another piece of charred squirrel off of her plate and took a bite. "I hate it so much. It's such a dumb beast."

"Oh, come on," Cynthia said. "It's a pegasus! They're smarter than the average horse. Once you get close to it, I'm sure everything'll work out."

"I don't want to get close to the stupid thing!" Severa snapped. "That's not my problem."

"B-But it belonged to Cordelia," Cynthia said sadly. "How can you say that about it?"

"Because I'm not my mother. I don't give a crap about stupid flying horses." Severa took another bite.

Cynthia frowned, hurt. "Hey, I do! Where do you get off, Severa, insulting anyone and anything you ever meet?"

"If you love it so much, you take care of it," Severa growled, her temper rising.

"I will not! That pegasus is your inheritance—your mother's last heirloom!" Cynthia shouted, and she stood. "Gods, I've had it with you, Severa! Take out whatever it is that's stuck up your rear, quit your whining, and take some responsibility for once in your life!"

Severa stood as well. "I'll do what I want! That pegasus is not my responsibility, and I refuse to take this crap from you!" She clenched her hands into fists. "I'm not my gods-damned mother, Cynthia! I would never, ever, choose to be a Pegasus Knight!"

…

Present day

Chrom crossed his arms, watching the entrance to Evans Castle. A blue-haired man rode out atop a horse—unaccompanied, as agreed.

"I came alone," Chrom called as the horse drew closer. "We can talk this out."

"You are the leader of the enemy forces?"

"I am." Chrom nodded respectfully. "My name is Chrom. Are you Sigurd?"

"Yes." Sigurd's expression was grim, and his hand rested tensely atop that golden sword on his hip. (If Chrom didn't know any better, he would have confused the sword for Marth's Falchion.) "I ask that you withdraw your forces. I have no craving for bloodshed."

"Neither do I," Chrom replied. "I see that we share a desire for peace. If you come with us, we can resolve this with words."

Sigurd pursed his lips. "…I'm sorry, Sir Chrom, but I can do no such thing. Not with the orders I've received."

Chrom sighed. Of course Algol would forbid them from surrendering without a fight. Why wouldn't he? "I see… I'm sorry it has to be this way, then."

"I do what I must to save my compatriots," Sigurd stated. "It's all I have ever done. You may outnumber us, but you cannot match our determination."

Chrom clenched his teeth. "…I won't let anyone die. Not a one. My side or yours."

Sigurd's eyes narrowed. What is this? Is he serious? Seliph, you didn't warn me of his character. "You'll have to put your money where your mouth is, Sir Chrom. We'll next meet on the battlefield."

"As you wish."

Chrom watched Sigurd's horse retreat to Evans. He let out a disgruntled sigh.

Inigo tapped his foot. "Well, Cynthia? Are you going to talk to me, or…?"

"I-I'm thinking, okay?" Cynthia bit her knuckle anxiously. "This isn't easy to say!"

Inigo crossed his arms, growing bored. His mind wandered to Mia… Oh, the cups of tea they would share…!

"It's about my mother, okay?"

Inigo blinked awake. "A-Ah! Right, yes. Your mother." He paused. "…What about her?"

"About how she's not here?" Cynthia said. "About how she hates me? About how she thinks it's my fault that Dad chose to sacrifice himself? About how, even after my dad f-finally came back—" She hesitated, covering her mouth. "…He… tried to kill us, his family…"

Inigo frowned sadly, and tried to put an arm around her, but she shook him off.

"I-It all makes me so angry!" Cynthia shouted. "After everything that's happened—all we've been through, all we've accomplished—it's never over! There's always some new thing, some new whatever that comes up and ruins everything!" She folded her arms over her abdomen; her eyes watered. "It's not fair, Inigo! Why can't it just end? Why can't it just be, 'hey Cynthia, good work, here's your happy ending you've been working for since forever'?" She sniffed. "I hate it! I hate everything! I'm so mad, I could—"

Inigo backed away from Cynthia's raised fists. "D-Don't take it out on me," he said. Slowly, he edged in, and pushed her hands down. "I understand, Cynthia. I get it."

"D-Do you?!" Cynthia shrieked, shaking him off for the second time. "Because, last I checked, your parents are just fine, and they loooove you!" Her voice was much angrier than her crying exterior showed. "I want to leave, Inigo! I just want to run away!"

Inigo's eyes widened in alarm. "C-Cynthia, you can't mean that!"

Cynthia nodded hastily. Her anger quickly faded. "Come with me," she pleaded. "Once I go get Morgan, then we can go, okay? We can walk away, just the three of us. C'mon. We've been best friends since we were kids."

"No," Inigo stated. "Absolutely not. I would never walk away, and neither will I let you do the same. Not when we're so close to the end."

"But we're not!" Cynthia shouted. "Don't kid yourself, Inigo! There's always something else. Always something to tack on to the end of the story, something else to torture us!" She shook her head. "Somehow, this isn't going to be so simple. I just know it. My bet's on this whole mission being a wild goose chase, like Laurent thinks."

Inigo blinked. "You agree with Laurent?" His eyes narrowed. "…Is this… pessimism? From… Cynthia?"

Inigo stepped closer; Cynthia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. To Cynthia's surprise, Inigo reached up and pinched both of her cheeks, all the while wearing a deadly serious expression.

"MMPH! W-Whaddr you doin'?" Cynthia tried to pry his hands off of her face.

"Sorry, Cynthia," Inigo said, shrugging. "There's just no way that that's you under there. Show yourself, impostor!"

Cynthia pulled free from his grip. "Ow…! Geez, Inigo, what the heck? That hurt!"

Inigo winked, grinning. "Oh, c'mon, Cynth. You were just being so weird, I didn't have a choice."

Cynthia was so astonished, she couldn't help but laugh.

"Ha! I got a smile out of you," said Inigo proudly. "The Azure Crusader strikes again!"

Cynthia struggled to rein in her smile, but only succeeded in laughing harder. "I-I'm serious!" she tried to say, but her credibility was nonexistent.

"Oh, I can tell," said Inigo, bobbing his head. "Those were very serious things you said. But since you'd be all depressing about it, I'm going to have to take a raincheck on abandoning everything we know and love." He smirked. "Believe it or not, Cynthia, I came from the same future as you. I've lost my parents just like you, and I also got them back, just like you. Difference is, you get to get them back twice. …I remember something you used to say pretty often, back in the day: 'Things work out because we Shepherds make them work out!'" He offered his hand, grinning defiantly. "We will find Robin, and we will fix your relationship with your mother. It'll all work out—trust me!"

Cynthia wiped a lingering tear from her eye. "…We? Us?"

"You got it," Inigo proclaimed. "Count me in, partner!"

Cynthia slowly smiled, and took Inigo's hand. "…All right, partner. I trust in you."

"I'm mortified that you ever didn't." Inigo let her go. "Now! Do we have a battle soon, or what?"

"We do!" said Cynthia eagerly. "Can I count on you to watch my back?"

"Only if you watch mine."

Severa put extra effort into grinding the whetstone across her blade. Of course I have to fight alongside Linfan. Stellar orders. Thanks, Morgan, for being a big, fat, tactical jerk!

"You know," Linfan said, grinning, "your sword's gonna get sharp whet-er or not you do it that roughly."

Severa paused, mouth hanging open. The pun was so abysmally horrible that she had no choice but to grin at it. "Wh-What's wrong with you?"

Linfan brightened. "What?! Is—Is that a smile? Gods, is this still Severa sitting before me?" He laughed. "An actual, positive reaction!"

"Hey! I can be positive when people deserve it," Severa muttered. "Don't act so surprised, or you'll never see my beautiful smile again."

"Okay, okay," said Linfan cheerfully. "Sorry. I was so mean. I probably hurt your feelings, huh."

"You are so full of it, Mor—" She bit her tongue. Disdainfully, she finished, "…Linfan."

"Sorry again. I've gotta stop grinding out these jokes."

"Oh my gods, shut up!"

Linfan laughed. "Oh, Severa. Classic Severa. I'm looking forward to fighting with you."

Severa scowled. "…Alright, Linfan, don't you dare take this the wrong way."

"Take what the wrong—?"

"It's not… the worst thing in the world that we're fighting together," she muttered, not meeting his eye. Noticing he was already brightening like a child receiving a toy, she hastily added, "And that's only because you use tomes, okay? Mages complement fighters like me!"

It was all Linfan could do to not clap his hands with glee. "'Not the worst thing in the world!' That's Severa for 'I'm looking forward to this'!"

Severa's eyes narrowed. "Whatever. Drop it."

"Whatever you say, Severa!"

Severa went back to the grind. Oh, gods, now I'm doing it. She resumed sharpening her blade.

…

Lucina's future

Severa leaned against the stables' wall with her arms crossed, sourly watching the pegasus empty its trough of feed.

"Didn't you have a name?" Severa muttered. "Like, 'Aurora' or something…? Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was Aurora…"

She huffed, looking away. "Aaaand I'm talking to a horse. Again. Well, at least this is more fun than trying to get through Cynthia's thick skull…"

She glanced back at Aurora. "So you've really been in the wild for all this time, huh? You know, my mother died years ago. Years. You mean to tell me you've survived in the wild for that long?"

Aurora turned its head toward Severa. For a brief moment, Severa thought the pegasus was acknowledging her. But of course it isn't. Smart or not, pegasi don't understand words.

"You must've been there when Mother bit it," said Severa. "What was that battle about, even? I can't remember. Something something Risen, something something Grima." She shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

The pegasus continued to stare at her. Severa grew into a scowl. "Whaddya want, an apple? Sorry to break the news, horse, but the sun was put out a long time ago. No more apples. Ever." She sighed. "Geez. I dunno how you could've survived out there when there's practically no wildlife left. What did you do, scavenge abandoned villages?"

Gradually, Severa's expression softened.

"…Doesn't matter. You're here now. Maybe someone'll want to reclass to a peg knight sometime, and they'll have use of you." She hesitantly reached for the pegasus; Aurora nudged her hand with its snout, allowing Severa to pet her.

Severa smiled slightly, gently patting Aurora's nose. "…Man, times have been tough, huh? I'm sure they'll look up, though. You're with the New Shepherds: the finest badasses left on Earth. …Granted, that's not saying much."

She glanced over her shoulder at the fort. "…Even Cynthia's not that bad, y'know? Heh, I guess you do, since you let her ride you. But yeah. She's capable." She sighed. "Maybe if she wasn't like a more annoying Morgan, we could even be friends." …Not that I'd ever make THAT comparison to her face…

Severa glanced back at Aurora. The faded insignia of her mother's squadron leapt out at her from the horse's old harness.

Her eyes narrowed.

Cynthia finally noticed Severa, and crossed her arms. "I don't suppose you've got an apology handy."

"Whatever, Cynthia. I need a favor."

Cynthia raised an eyebrow. "A favor?"

"Yes!" Severa huffed impatiently.

"And I'm supposed to help you… without my apology?"

Severa ground her teeth. "…Trust me, Cynthia, it's bad enough that I'm asking you for help. You'll just love lording over me during this."

Cynthia smirked. "All right, you've got my attention! Whaddya need?"

Severa took a breath. "Teach me… how to ride a pegasus."

It was exhilarating.

The wind in her hair, the ground so far away—Severa couldn't help but laugh with glee as Aurora took her to new heights.

Aurora tucked its wings and dived toward the ground; Severa grinned, leaning forward and feeling the rush of gravity.

Aurora spread its wings wide, catching the air, and swooped upwards, gliding over the barren forest.

Severa closed her eyes, smiling in content. I wonder… If we go high enough…

Could I see the sun again?

"So how is it?" Cynthia's beast flapped its wings nearby; its rider grinned widely. "Pretty fun, right?"

Severa had no witty retort. No one-liner, no snark. She smiled, genuinely, and said, "This is amazing!"

Cynthia seemed ecstatic. "That's wonderful!" She gestured downward. "Alright, let's land, okay? We shouldn't fly this high for too long."

Severa nodded and followed Cynthia's pegasus to the ground.

The two horses alighted in front of the fort. After guiding them into the stables, Cynthia and Severa dismounted.

Severa still grinned, running a hand through her hair. "Th-That was… incredible," she breathed.

Cynthia nodded rapidly. "I know, right? Pegasi are so freaking rad!"

Severa nodded, watching Aurora fondly. "…should learn lances…"

"What was that?"

Severa shook her head quickly. "Nothing. I'm hungry, let's see if we can find some berries."

"Yeah, you're right." Cynthia turned away.

Severa glanced back at the two pegasi, a small smile on her face. "…Okay, Mother. Maybe I'll…. Maybe I'll consider it. Okay? Your pegasus needs a rider."

Severa turned away and followed Cynthia. Her chest was warmed in a way that it hadn't been in a very, very long time.

…

Present day

Chrom stepped in Jungby Castle's conference room, meaning Morgan could finally start breathing again. Thank the gods, she thought irritably, shooting a glance aside at the overly-doting alternate female version of her father standing nearby. (What a sentence.)

Morgan cleared her throat. "So, ah, how'd it go?"

Chrom sighed. "Looks like combat's unavoidable. Sigurd wouldn't listen."

"I'm wondering if Old Hubba was right about them always finding an excuse to fight," Morgan mused, tapping her chin.

"Maybe it's a byproduct of them having to follow orders," Robin added. "Think of it like actors on a stage. They've got to stay in-character no matter what, where 'what' in this case is that they also have to side with the bad guys—something they'd never do of their own accord. So, they find a way to justify to themselves that their side is in the right, whatever it takes to fulfill the mission they were given."

Morgan frowned. "You might be right. After all, Celica only realized she was on the wrong side after we beat her. And when they're beaten, they change masters, so she didn't have to 'play along' anymore."

"…That all makes sense," Chrom began slowly, "but… remember Marth. He was capable of disobeying an order. That changes everything, right? If they don't have to obey, then they don't have to do all that stuff you said. They have a choice."

"You have a point," Morgan noted. "But we don't know everything about what happened with him. There could've been unknown, extenuating circumstances. Some technicality or loophole he was able to abuse, maybe." She nodded at Robin. "It seems like Robin's idea holds some weight."

'Robin'? Robin thought. It surprised her to hear her actual name come from Morgan's mouth, rather than 'Mother' or 'Mom.'

She sighed. I guess I'm not her mother, in the end. And the cold shoulder she's been giving me definitely reinforces that. She frowned, watching Morgan's beautiful expression… the light in her eyes that only tactics could bring out of her.

It pained her that this Morgan was not also hers.

Is that selfish? I have Lucina, and my own Morgan. I shouldn't be so upset by this…

"…What do you think, Robin?"

Robin blinked awake. "I-I'm sorry, I zoned out there for a bit."

"The bridge," Chrom repeated. "There's a river separating us from Evans, and the bridge over it is retractable. Seems like we could lure most of them across the bridge, then raise the bridge to split them up."

"Ahem. That sounds solid."

"Doesn't it seem a little overkill?" Morgan asked. "After all, we almost outnumber them four-to-one. We've faced much, MUCH worse odds with more straightforward battles, with equally nonexistent casualties."

"We can't take the risk," Robin stated. "Unlike us, the enemy is not holding back. They're out for blood. If we have an opportunity, any at all, to decrease the odds of losing anyone, then we have to take it."

Morgan paused. That serious look in alternate-Robin's eyes gave Morgan the impression that Robin was speaking from experience. Have they lost people before…?

…Yes, they had. Morgan could tell. That was the same look that her father always used to have whenever the subject of the war with Plegia came up.

'Even one casualty means we've lost.'

"You're right," Morgan said. "We'll do the bridge thing… Mother."

A lightning sensation shot through Robin's spine, eliciting a smile. "Morgan…"

Morgan smiled back.

Chrom cleared his throat. Apparently, some sort of emotional thing was going down between the two of them, and he had no idea what it was. "…Sounds like a plan," he said, clapping his hands together and ruining the moment. "Let's get things going, Morgan."

"S-Sure thing, Captain."

Alt-Robin squinted, frowning at the distant force approaching from the west. "So that's them, huh? Those are the Einherjar."

Morgan took a bite out of her apple. "Myup. Shuper cool, righth?" She swallowed. "They're all warriors of legend, all twenty of 'em. Kinda can't wait for the fight." She took another bite, smaller this time in case she needed to speak.

"Very interesting. They're so lifelike! And they're all summoned from cards?" She shook her head. "It's hard to believe, to be honest."

Morgan shrugged. "In a world with dragons, time travel, and easy breezy amnesiacs appearing every other day, it's hard for me to question these things anymore."

"Point Morgan." Robin nodded at the enemy. "They're about to cross the bridge. How's this going to work?"

"Simple." Morgan held up her apple. "Pretend this is the bridge."

Robin frowned. "Okay…"

Morgan threw the apple on the ground, and dug her heel into the fruit. She gave it a few more stomps for good measure. "And that…" she began, staring down at the mashed remains of her snack, "is Laurent's Bolganone." She grinned. "It's a fragile bridge."

"I thought the bridge was retractable?"

"Turns out I was wrong. This is more fun anyway, right?"

Robin chuckled. "What a Morgan answer."

Slowly, Morgan's face fell. "…Is it also Morgan-ish to throw my snack on the ground?" She gazed longingly down at the remains of her apple. "Man…"

Sigurd rose to his feet, having been thrown from his horse. He looked around, dazed, before noticing the fading column of fire that had erupted behind him. The bridge was in shambles, and most of the rest of his army still remained on the other side of the rampaging river.

Sigurd's hand tightened around Tyrfing. We're separated! He looked around, counting heads. …But we're still all in one piece.

He faced forward, watching the enemy approaching from Jungby. "…We can make this work," he murmured. "We have to."

The pegasus sisters came first.

"Inigo!" Cynthia called over her shoulder. "Hop on!"

"Right!"

Cynthia's pegasus took to the skies, and as she looked around, Cynthia noticed Cordelia and Cherche on her flanks.

She turned her eyes ahead. "Alright," she murmured to herself. She gripped the reins tightly with her left hand, stretching her newly-mended arm. "You've got this, Cynthia."

Severa powered her sword at Lyn, who deflected the blow with one katana. Lyn swung her other katana at Severa's neck, but Severa ducked under the attack.

Severa hopped back. Lyn twirled her two swords, eyeing her opponent warily.

Severa glanced over her shoulder. "Linfan, are you gonna do something, or should I just fight her myself?"

"Patience, Sev. I'll jump in when you need me."

Severa rolled her eyes. "Fine!" She gritted her teeth and charged back at Lyn.

"Cynthia, what's that formation?" Inigo asked, leaning forward and pointing over the pegasus's head.

Cynthia pushed him back. "I can see them just fine without all the shoving." She glanced back at the enemy pegasi. "They're sticking really close together, huh?"

"Yeah." Inigo gripped his sword anxiously. Don't look down. "How come?"

"I think—"

One of the enemy Pegasus Knights interrupted her train of thought: "Catria! Est! Are you ready?"

"Ready, Palla!"

Their three lances trained on Cherche. Palla took the lead, and she shouted, "Triangle Attack!"

Catria and Est swooped low, while Palla aimed high. The three Falcoknights converged on Cherche with blinding speed.

Cherche's mount jerked to the side, dodging Est's lance, and Cherche defended herself from Palla with her axe, but the third enemy, Catria, struck home. The lance pierced Minerva's scales, causing the wyvern to cry out in pain.

"Cherche!" Cordelia shouted, and she and Cynthia flew in to intervene.

Palla, Catria, and Est turned to face their new foes, while Cherche guided her wounded mount to the ground, defeated. The pegasus sisters hovered in place and raised their lances to form a phalanx.

Cynthia and Cordelia kept their space, unwilling to fly straight into the wall of steel.

Frustrated, Cynthia's grip tightened around her lance. "C'mon," she muttered to herself. "Lemme through…"

"Cynthia," Cordelia called, catching her attention. Cordelia made a series of small hand gestures.

Cynthia nodded. "Right!"

Inigo looked between the two Falcoknights, confused. "What? What's right?"

"Hold on, Inigo! You'll see!"

Inigo gulped, wrapping his arms tightly around Cynthia's waist. "I-If you say so."

Cordelia's pegasus, Aurora, darted upwards, drawing two of the enemy lances with her. Palla, however, kept her eyes (and lance) on Cynthia.

Cynthia angled her pegasus low, swiftly gaining speed from the nosedive. Inigo closed his eyes for fear of vomiting.

Cynthia turned upwards, raising her lance as she encroached on the pegasus sisters from below. "Inigo, I need you!"

"R-Right!" Inigo forced his eyes open, and was immediately struck by vertigo at the sight of the three pegasus underbellies above him.

"This is something crazy, but I need you to follow my lead, okay?" Cynthia shouted over the wind.

"What? What does that mean?!"

"You'll know! I hope!"

Cynthia squinted, keeping her eyes on Palla's lance. She tightly gripped her lance with her healed arm. "You've got this," she murmured to herself.

Her lance rose upwards, meeting Palla's nearly dead-on. The two blades skimmed across each other before the superior momentum behind Cynthia's deflected Palla's lance away.

"Nngh!" Cynthia grunted, nearly losing her grip on her lance. "Inigo, now!"

Cynthia's pegasus shot up between Palla's and Catria's; for a brief moment, Inigo found himself hovering mere feet over Palla's pegasus, as though floating.

Inigo's heart fell as he realized what Cynthia had meant. You've got to be kidding.

But she wasn't, of course. Inigo took the moment he had to steel himself; breathing in, he released Cynthia, falling onto Palla's pegasus.

The phalanx was broken, and Palla's pegasus bucked in an attempt to dislodge Inigo. Palla, herself, with a look of panic on her face, tried shoving Inigo with her lance, but was in a poor position to do so.

Inigo held tightly onto the pegasus's rump for dear life, praying to the gods and cursing Cynthia and lamenting all the women with whom he had yet to flirt. The pegasus gave him a glancing kick to the leg, making him realize he couldn't exactly stay in that position. Also: OUCH!

Inigo timed between buckings of the horse, before throwing his weight forward to gain better footing on the pegasus. He mistimed it, however—not exactly an expert on midair situations like this—and launched forward with more velocity than he had intended.

"Oof!" His face smarted from a definitely metal impact. Ow, ow, ow! He blindly scrambled for a handhold, feeling his balance worsening.

"Wha—Wha!" Palla cried, redness flooding her cheeks. "H-Hands off!"

Inigo didn't need his vision to know the all-too-familiar feeling of what he had grabbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he stammered reflexively, prying his face off of the back of her armor.

"What?!" Palla struggled against him. "If you're so sorry, then let go!"

The pegasus bucked again, startling Inigo into gripping tighter. If I didn't have a fear of heights before, I have one now!

Inigo squeezed his sword tightly. He couldn't believe he still had hold of it after all this. "I-I'm sorry, milady, but we're enemies! I can't be nice right now!" He raised the sword into her field of view. "Pl-Please land, and surrender, or I'll—uh—hurt your pegasus!" He coughed. "I mean uh, kill it! Yes!"

"I'm prepared to die if I have to!" Palla snarled. "I am loyal to Lady Minerva to the end!"

Inigo rolled his eyes. "I don't see any Minervas around here besides the one you guys nearly killed," he muttered. "Look, we're not bad guys! I don't want to kill you. Okay? If you all surrender, we can resolve this without bloodshed."

Palla hesitated. Everything in her was crying to kill this man as long as he had such a firm grip on her—

But she had to think of the bigger picture. What would Est or Catria do without her? And—if this pervert was telling the truth, and they had no malicious intentions, then…

"V-Very well," Palla said reluctantly. "On one condition. Let. Me. Go."

Inigo grinned. "Yes ma'am!"

He let out a relieved breath, looking around. The other two pegasus sisters had been routed, and Cynthia pulled her pegasus even with Palla's as she escorted Catria down.

"You did it! Nice one, Inigo!" Cynthia bubbled. "Knew I could count on you!"

Inigo winked. "Told you we'd make a great team. Now… how about that cup of tea?"

Cynthia laughed; Inigo joined in soon after.

Palla fumed. …He still hasn't let go.

Lyn sliced both of her swords horizontally, staggering Severa; in the brief moment that she was looking up, Severa saw the enemy pegasi descending to the ground, evidently defeated.

Severa grimaced. I am NOT going to be outdone by freaking CYNTHIA!

She regained her balance, glaring at Lyn angrily. "Alright, you filthy piece of Einherjar garbage," she growled. "It's REALLY go time now!"

"What did you call me?" Lyn asked, genuinely surprised. But, confused as she was about the meaning behind the words, Lyn's pride flared at Severa's impudent tone.

Severa dashed forward, swiping at Lyn aggressively. Lyn glided Severa's sword along her Mani Katti, directing the silver sword into the dirt. Lyn placed her boot atop Severa's blade, further lodging it in, and readied Sol Katti for a killing blow.

Linfan tensed. Now! He raised his free hand, and a blast of Thoron shot forth.

Lyn raised the Sol Katti in self-defense, having nearly forgotten about Linfan. The magic resistance of the legendary katana cushioned the blow, but the powerful Thunder magic was still enough to push her away from Severa.

Glaring at Lyn, Severa planted her foot, twisted, and dislodged her sword from the dirt with a powerful tug. Using this momentum, Severa spun, guiding the silver weapon directly at Lyn.

Lyn blocked with both of her swords, but the heavy strike threw her footing off. Linfan followed through with another blast of Thoron, from which Lyn again protected herself with Sol Katti.

Lyn winced, realizing she was losing. She took a last-ditch effort at aggression, stabbing at Severa with both of her swords. Severa parried one, but the other cut a line across her arm.

Severa didn't even seem to care. Adrenaline pumping through her, she instigated her own offense.

Linfan charged forward as well, wielding a bolt of lightning in his palm. He occupied one of Lyn's swords with a weak spark. Severa wrestled blow-for-blow against Lyn's other weapon, eager bloodlust in her eyes as she searched for that one elusive hit on the swordmaster.

Lyn found herself beset by both of the future children. She'd never seen cooperation like this—their attacks flowed together like the wind, perfectly synergized. They were never in each other's way, and they never let an opening go. Always there was a weapon hounding Lyn.

Is pairing up the way to go? Lyn thought. Desperation began to take hold of her. Mark, what I would give for your guidance right now!

All it took was one slip-up: Lyn expected an attack from Linfan, and shifted her weight accordingly, but Severa attacked instead. Lyn's swords were knocked out of position, she fell to a knee, and Linfan dived in for the finish.

Lyn grunted, putting all her strength behind deflecting Linfan's bolt; the lightning altered course into the ground next to her.

She gasped for breath, realizing the effort had been for nothing as Severa's attack came next. The first slash disarmed Lyn; the second, a swift, horizontal strike aimed at Lyn's neck.

Severa's sword halted just before its target. It silently aligned with Lyn's throat, signaling her defeat.

Severa lowered her sword, and she planted her boot in Lyn's stomach, knocking the lord onto her back. "And stay down," Severa spat. "Be thankful I didn't kill you."

Severa sheathed her weapon, trying to hide that she was out of breath. Looking around, she saw most of the rest of the battle was wrapping up; even Sigurd's units from the other side of the river had been routed. Cynthia's pegasus alighted nearby, and she and Inigo dismounted; several other Shepherds from both timelines milled about, a positive atmosphere encompassing the victorious congregation.

"Hey," Severa said absently, "Linfan. You didn't do too bad—" She turned to face him, trailing off. Linfan wore the strangest smile. "…Uh, Linfan?"

Linfan walked closer, still grinning.

Severa took a hesitant step back. "Linfan? What are you—?"

Linfan reached for her, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Slowly, amused at her flabbergasted expression, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips against hers.

Severa's eyes widened, a bright red rising to her cheeks at the novel taste.

…

Lucina's future

"Practically fine dining," Severa snarked. She held a shriveled berry up to the candlelight, inspecting the meager fruit with disdain.

Cynthia shrugged. "We take what we can get, Severa. At least we found food today."

"I know, I know," Severa muttered. "I don't need you to tell me how much our lives suck."

"Anyway!" Cynthia said, eager to change the subject. "Later, do you want to groom our pegasi on the roof together?"

"Why the roof?"

"Because it's so high up," Cynthia responded cheerfully. "Pegasi love altitude. My Belfast is already up top and waiting; you can go grab Aurora from the stables once we're done eating."

Severa shrugged. "Sure." She kept her excitement hidden.

Cynthia smiled. "…Y'know, Severa, I'm really glad Aurora found us."

"What? Why?"

"Because she really brought us together, I think," Cynthia said. "I don't think it's a secret that we've never gotten along before." She shrank a little, embarrassed. "Now, it… it seems like we could actually be friends."

Severa stared down at her food, heat rising to her face. "…Wh… Whatever. If you want."

Cynthia giggled.

Her laughter suddenly cut short, and her face fell.

Severa frowned. "…What?"

"Did you hear that?" Cynthia turned towards the fort's main entrance. "Listen!"

Severa strained her ears. "Sounds like…" She hesitated. "…Knocking?"

"Knocking?" Cynthia echoed. She stood from the table, and Severa slowly followed suit. "I wonder if…"

Cynthia started walking towards the door; Severa trailed just behind.

"Are Lucina and company back already?" Severa asked. "No way."

Cynthia grinned at Severa. "I wouldn't count her out. She's done impossibler."

"That's not a word, Cynthia…"

Severa paused, crossing her arms, as Cynthia went to answer the door. Why would Lucina be back from the Feroxi capital already? she thought. Did something go wrong…?

Cynthia wore a wide grin, throwing the door open. "Back al—"

Cynthia and Severa both tensed in horror.

A legion of Revenants stood outside, their eyes lighting a malefic scarlet as they noticed the fort's two inhabitants.

"Ri—Ri—" Cynthia stammered. She scrambled away from the door. "Risen, Severa!"

"Gods dammit!" Severa shouted, drawing her sword. "How did they—? Pick up your lance, Cynthia!"

"I am!"

The horde of Risen began to lumber through the fort's doors, their undead moaning reaching a deafening pitch in its echo through the hall.

Severa watched the first Revenant approach, holding her sword at the ready. As it drew near, it swiped a fetid claw at her; she ducked under the predictable attack and slashed the Risen across the midsection, destroying the monster.

Lance in hand, Cynthia moved forward to stand next to Severa, making short work of the second Risen. Then another, then another.

Severa cut another beast down. She grimaced, watching more and more pile through the door; they soon would have enough in here to surround the two lone Shepherds. "We need to funnel them through the hallways," she said. "Pick 'em off one by one!"

Cynthia nodded. "Right!" She and Severa slowly retreated, not turning their backs to the Risen.

Severa planted her boot in the Revenant's chest, kicking it over. She buried her sword into the grounded monster's chest, taking satisfaction in watching the monster disappear into purple smoke.

She stood, wiping her brow. "Was that the last one?"

"I think so," Cynthia replied. She futilely attempted to brush off the purple miasma coating her lance. She sighed, relieved. "That could've been bad."

"Could've," Severa said slowly. Something nagged at her. What was it?

"Are you hurt?"

"No. You?"

"Nah." Cynthia wiped her brow as well, smearing miasma across her forehead. "Man… I'm just glad those things can't fly. Belfast was nice and safe up on the—" She froze.

Severa froze as well. A jolting dread shot through her spine.

"Severa, I—" But Severa dashed away without a word; after missing a beat, Cynthia chased after her. "S-Severa!"

Severa slowed down, her hand rising to cover her mouth. Her eyes were fixed to the scene, as much as she wanted to look away.

Slowly, the last Revenant of the battle looked up from its meal. It gradually stood, giblets of meat still dripping from its wide maw.

They don't hunger. They don't need to. They're just monsters, constructs.

Severa's hand clenched into a fist. The other raised her sword.

The Risen sluggishly lumbered toward Severa.

Grima, you bastard! This is just cruelty! You could've just killed it! This wasn't NECESSARY!

Severa roared with hatred and slashed the mindless Risen in two.

She fell to her knees from the exertion, watching the monster's remains billow into the wind.

Tears ran from her eyes as she gasped for air. She couldn't look.

But she couldn't not look. She had to see.

Severa slowly looked, taking in the visceral sight of the dying pegasus.

Aurora wheezed feebly, its legs twitching. Its white mane was stained red; its pearly wings, broken.

Severa's sword fell from her hands. She doubled over, wrapping her arms around her abdomen and crying out in agony.

"I'm s-sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry…!"

She sniffed, trembling violently, and slowly reached for her sword.

"I'm sorry!" she repeated, shouting now. She stood on wobbling legs, slowly forcing herself to approach Aurora.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, still shaking, and aimed the sword at the beast's head.

Aurora's breathing slowed to an even pace; its eyes watched Severa peacefully, as if anticipating her coming mercy.

Severa continued to shake. She closed her eyes, screamed, and plunged the sword downward.

The wet sound of iron through flesh, followed by silence, let Severa know her effort was a success.

Severa pressed her forehead against the pommel of the sword, squeezed her eyes shut, and began to cry uncontrollably.

She knelt in that repose for a long time. Several moments passed before the only other onlooker arrived.

Cynthia slowly approached, flinching at the gruesome sight. She crossed her arms uncomfortably. "Severa…"

"What?!" Severa snapped, facing Cynthia. Her eyes and face were dark red. "What do you want?!"

"This is all my fault," Cynthia said. "I shouldn't have flown so much… they must've seen us, and…"

"Your fault?!" Severa shouted, standing. "This was you?!"

Cynthia flinched. "S-Severa, I—"

"No! Shut up!" Severa snarled. "I've had it with you, Cynthia! I—HATE—YOU! And I am done! We are done!"

She stormed past Cynthia, roughly bumping her shoulder as she passed. Cynthia rubbed her smarting shoulder, sadly watching Severa go.

Cynthia turned back to Aurora's corpse. She gingerly stepped closer and retrieved the bloodied sword from its… resting place. One last glance at what remained of Cordelia's last heirloom, and Cynthia slowly trudged back to the fort.

…

Present day

Severa roughly shoved Linfan off of her.

Linfan staggered a few steps away, rubbing his smarting shoulder. His lips still tingled from the kiss. "Heh… Guess I should've expected—"

What he didn't expect was the punch, arriving immediately and square in the jaw.

Linfan fell to a knee, his head ringing. Blood ran from his busted lip. He was too surprised to process what just happened.

Severa didn't miss a beat, throwing another punch into Linfan's nose. She crouched over the now-prone Linfan and punched him twice more in the face; the anger and hurt in her expression was such that Linfan had never seen.

Severa reared back for another hate-filled punch, but an arm grabbed hers, restraining her. More arms held her back, pulling her off of the grounded Linfan.

"Idiot! Violator! Human waste!" Severa shrieked, fighting against her restraints. Linfan slowly climbed to his feet, holding his broken nose; a few others helped him stand. One eye was shut, a trickle of blood running down from his eyebrow.

Severa stopped fighting, and the hands gradually let her go. She jabbed a pointer finger in Linfan's face. "If I ever—EVER see you again, I'm going to kill you," she snarled. "Don't test me. Next time we meet, you're dead. I am not joking."

Severa turned and stormed away. She tried hard, harder than she had ever tried before, to hide the tears running from her eyes.

Inigo scratched his head, watching Severa leave. Geez… Glad I didn't try that on Cynthia.

Cynthia sighed, watching Severa leave. Man… I wish Inigo had tried that on me.

"Well, Lord Chrom… it seems you've delivered."

Sigurd, nursing a bruised cheekbone, offered Chrom a smile and a hand. Chrom shook.

"Not a single casualty, and still we stand here defeated." Sigurd shook his head. "Incomprehensible."

Chrom shrugged. "I'm a man of my word, Lord Sigurd. Do I have your surrender?"

"Of course. I can't help but entertain the idea that I was fighting for the wrong side."

Chrom chuckled. "You don't know the half of it. I'll explain everything when we get back to the mansion."

"Very well." Sigurd inclined his head. "I shall take my leave, then."

"Of course." Chrom watched Sigurd head into the mass of Shepherds and Einherjar. What a crew.

"Ah! Lord Chrom, was it?"

Chrom turned to the unfamiliar face, and shook the man's hand regardless. "Um, yeah… Who are you?"

"My name is Seliph," he replied, smiling. "Lord Sigurd's son. Commendable work today, sir—you have my admiration."

Chrom frowned. "I don't recall seeing you during the battle…"

"Is that so? Well, I assure you, I certainly participated." Seliph's cool smile was unbroken. "I was defeated by, ah… the one with the oddly-colored hair."

"Odd color hair, huh?" Chrom said dryly. "That really narrows it down."

Seliph shrugged. "I apologize." He half-bowed. "I look forward to our working together."

"Of course," Chrom murmured. He watched Seliph leave, a skeptical tingle running up Chrom's spine. "Something's… off about him."

Emmeryn hurried forward and tapped Robin on the shoulder. Robin turned around, surprised. "Y-Yes, Exalt Emmeryn?"

Emmeryn smiled. "Please: just Emmeryn. I've never been Exalt."

Robin smiled as well. "As you wish. What's the matter?"

Emmeryn reached into her satchel and produced an old, leather-bound journal. If Robin squinted, she could make out a "J" on the journal's spine.

Emmeryn tore a text-filled page out of the journal and offered it to Robin.

Robin accepted the page, squinting to read the small text. "'Plegia's desert'… 'Plegia Harbor'… 'Either the pirate ship of Captain Dobus, or at home with Martin the Merchant'… 'if with Dobus, then…'" She trailed off. Turning the page over, she found it was equally full of text. "Is this a list of every place you went to before reuniting with the other Shepherds?"

Emmeryn shook her head. "No, this is a list of every place I could've gone… And every place I did go to. Covering every base… for when you look for me."

Robin broke into a wide smile, folding the parchment and tucking it into a pocket close to her heart. "L-Lady Emmeryn, you don't know what this means to me…"

"I do," Emmeryn replied peacefully. "I very much do. …Good luck, Robin."

Chrom sighed, facing the door to the mansion. The last of his Shepherds had gone inside with the Einherjar in tow, and the alternate Shepherds had nearly all returned to their camp.

He turned around, facing the alternate Chrom and Robin. "So. How's Morgan doing?"

Robin sighed. "He'll be fine… his heart seems more bruised than his face, but he'll recover."

"I'm sorry to hear about that," Chrom replied. "It's unacceptable behavior from a Shepherd, what Severa did."

Alt-Chrom waved it away, forcing a smile. "Listen. Let's not get too down, okay? We have our futures ahead of us. Let's not waste this time moping."

Chrom sighed. "You're right, me."

"We're going to return to our homeland," Robin said. "Your Emmeryn gave us a map and directions. We're going to use it to find our Emmeryn and bring her home."

Chrom's heart warmed. "…I see. Then I guess this is where we part ways." He shook hands with the other Chrom, then with Robin. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Likewise," said alt-Chrom. "If you find your Robin, tell him: 'your alternate self is more attractive.'"

The three shared a laugh.

"Will do," Chrom chuckled. "Along with the requisite 'better places to take a nap' thing."

"Right, right." Alt-Chrom waved. "Farewell! We'll be back eventually, I promise."

"Definitely," Robin added.

Chrom waved back, smiling. "Farewell," he replied.

Warmness spread through him. A similar determination welled in his heart to the one he had felt before entering the Outrealms: a determination to end the Einherjar War, and to find Robin.

"Wait for us," he echoed.

Severa crossed her arms, not meeting the eye of the person across the desk from her. "I'm not in the wrong," she muttered. "He violated—"

"I don't want to hear it." Cordelia leaned forward, staring Severa intensely in the eyes. "Severa. We need to talk."

Robin closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh Ylisse air. "Home sweet—" She froze. "Dammit!"

Chrom frowned. "What is it, Robin?"

"Chrom, I didn't see Tiki with them," Robin said urgently.

Chrom glanced down at his sword. "You're right. They're probably still fighting Outrealm Sickness, huh?"

Robin nodded. "Should we go back?"

"…I don't think so." Chrom's expression was set determinedly. "We're home already. We shouldn't waste a moment in our search for Emm."

"But Chrom—"

"They'll be fine," Chrom reassured her. "They'll find the solution on their own. If we could, then they definitely could—hell, they're better survivalists than we are, apparently."

Robin chuckled. "Heh… All right, all right, you've got me." She smiled. "Let's go find your sister."

"Right."

The alternate Shepherds mobilized, with Chrom and Robin at the helm. They had a long search ahead of them.

Next time:

Chapter 7 – The Lost Bloodlines