-ARC 2: QUINTESSENCE-

Chapter 15: Harvest Scramble

All was quiet when Nah's eyes lifted open. Her advanced ears could hear some birds chirping outside, and she turned her head to the window, smiling at the lazy morning rays floating through. The verdant plains of Old Hubba's Outrealm stretched out beyond the glass. What a sight to wake up to.

The Manakete sat up in her bed, stretching and yawning loudly. She felt unbelievably refreshed. She couldn't remember the last sleep she'd had that felt this good. Even colors seemed to be more vibrant today.

She started to lift the covers off, but when she looked down, she suddenly frowned at the mess of clothes and hair curled up on the floor at the foot of her bed.

"…Morgan, is that you?"

The tactician shifted at the sound of her name. "Mmmmn… Jus', jus' five more… min…"

"Morgan," Nah repeated, more sternly.

"Mmwha?" Morgan blinked awake, propping herself up on an elbow. "Oh… Hey, Nah." A little smirk grew on her face. "Was it good for you, too?"

Nah rolled her eyes. "Why are you in my room?"

"Mmm." Morgan rubbed her eyes sleepily. "Mmmmom. Mom. She fell asleep in my bed…" She yawned loudly, smacking herself lightly on her cheeks to wake herself up. "Yeah, so I crashed here."

"You could've told me," Nah said.

"You were passed out by the time I got here," Morgan countered, the smirk returning. "I definitely considered whispering sweet nothings into your ear to wake you up, but instead I just fell asleep. Sorry to get you so flustered."

"I am not flustered."

"Mmhm." Morgan winked.

Nah sighed. "Anyway… big day, huh? Finally leaving the mansion behind."

"D'you feel bittersweet about it too?" Morgan asked. "I think I'm gonna miss this place."

Nah wrinkled her nose at the idea. "Definitely not. This place reminds me of being either sick or cooped up. I can't wait to be out of here."

Morgan bobbed her head. "Fair enough. And hey, since we're on the topic, how're you feeling right now?"

Nah flexed her fingers. "…Incredible, actually. I feel so rested." She frowned. "Come to think of it, I feel like I haven't gotten much sleep the past few nights."

"That must've been Outrealm Sickness doing its thing," Morgan said quietly.

Explains a lot, Nah thought. She hadn't even realized it, but the Outrealm Sickness had certainly been affecting her mental health. Even the same day that they had entered the Outrealms, she'd been on edge and emotional the entire time… And now she knew it had been affecting her sleep, too.

"But that's behind me now." Nah threw the covers off, grinning broadly. "I'm back, Morgan. It's time for me to properly rejoin the Shepherds."

"Hell yeah." Morgan and Nah bumped fists.

The atmosphere was pleasant, for sure: quiet. Walking amidst the exodus of Shepherds, Chrom stopped, turning his eyes back on the mansion. He put a hand on his hip and squinted through the morning sunlight, unable to resist the thought of… This place is actually pretty stunning. The green plains, the distant mountains, the gentle breeze swaying the forest not far ahead, and the lovely cloudless sky brightly displaying it all. The weather seemed to reflect the cheer of the Shepherds. He could feel the buzz of excitement radiating from his allies. He, of course, was not exempt from such feelings himself. (Certainly, the fact that he was well enough to walk unaided contributed heavily to that.)

Just noticing how nice this place is… Chrom thought with a sigh, turning his eyes ahead once again to the Outrealm Gate looming on the fringe of the woods, …right when we're leaving it for good. He paused, noticing that Maribelle had also stopped, watching him cautiously, but when he began walking again (reassuring her with a smile and a nod) she walked alongside him as before.

"Does your wound ail you?"

Chrom shook his head. "It's a little better."

Maribelle was wringing her hands, he now noticed. "…That is good."

They walked quietly for a bit.

"Ah, about last night." She glanced aside at her husband. "I feel there's no need to discuss it any further."

Chrom frowned.

"I've aired my frustration, so… to dwell on it any longer would merely bring tension. I have nothing more to say on the subject, nor can I expect anything to come of it. So…" Her eyes averted. "Could we, perchance… not think on it?"

Chrom caught her meaning. With a smile, he slunk his fingers between hers, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I don't want things to be weird, Maribelle."

She trembled, but soon, her hand wrapped around his with the same affection. "I'm… glad."

The Shepherds now milled patiently about the Outrealm Gate, awaiting orders to march through. Cynthia sighed; "Hope this doesn't take too much longer."

"Chrom said the Annas will give us directions," Sumia said. "And the Annas are in the mansion right now. Shouldn't be too much longer!" She flashed a smile her daughter's way.

A tinge of red hit Cynthia's cheeks, and she averted her eyes. "R-Right."

Sumia tilted her head. "…Cynthia."

"Mm! Y-Yes, Mother?"

"'Mother,'" Sumia chuckled. "C'mon, Cynthia. Please don't be so formal with me."

Cynthia looked down, blushing intensely and grabbing the hem of her skirt. "B-But, Moth—Mom, Mom… You know. Don't just… pretend nothing's happened, okay?"

Sumia winced, averting her eyes as well. "Y-Yeah. I… I just…" She shook her head. How am I supposed to even tackle this situation? Gods, Robin would know exactly what to say… He was so good at that. She blinked. Is. Is good at that… And the answer clicked in her mind.

"Listen, Cynthia," Sumia began brightly, brushing her hair over her ear as she faced her daughter. "We can talk aaaaaall about this… when your father's back with us." She winked. "Until then, let's be cool around each other, okay?"

A lump rose into Cynthia's throat. "I—I—" A smile burst forth. "Y-Yes! Definitely! Let's, let's—let's be cool!"

"Then—can I—" Sumia bit her tongue, feeling her question was horribly intrusive. Too much to ask. She—she'd treated Cynthia so poorly… she didn't deserve to ask of her "Can I have a hug, then?"

Her eyes went wide. She'd said that out loud.

Cynthia didn't miss a beat. Immediately, with the same energy she'd displayed when they reunited yesterday, she threw her arms around Sumia in an encompassing hug, startling the older pegasus knight.

"I, I missed you, Mom." Cynthia sniffed; they were still in public, so she couldn't just cry, but dammit, fighting was hard.

"I missed you too, Cynthia." Sumia stroked her daughter's pigtails with care, the same way she did the Cynthia of this time. "We won't be apart again, I promise."

Cynthia unconsciously tilted her head into her mother's patting; this was so nostalgic. Reminded her of times as a child, when—

Cynthia's eyes snapped open, and she pulled away. "Wh-What happened to me?"

Sumia blinked.

"Ah, I—I mean, who's taking care of me? Not me, but—little-me!"

"Oh," Sumia sighed, putting a hand over her heart in relief. "You worried me! She and Morgan are with your grandparents; they've been holding onto them ever since the deal with the fake Robin. After all, I needed as much babysitting as my children did. I'm sure the castle's nannies are capable and all, but I wanted to keep you in the family."

"Our…" Cynthia began dumbly, "…grandparents?"

"Yes," Sumia laughed, a little confused. "My mother and father? They live on the fringe of the capital!"

Cynthia's bewildered expression disconcerted Sumia to the point of panic.

"I've never told you you have grandparents?!" Sumia shook her head defiantly. "How much do you not know about me? How much do I not know about you?!"

Somehow, Sumia losing her composure relaxed Cynthia. She laughed. "Oh, I bet we've got tons to talk about. You said Miss Cordelia's taking you shopping at the Harvest Festival, right?"

Sumia was fidgeting indecisively. "…Y-Yes, but—"

"Then," Cynthia said cheerfully, smiling and putting her hands on Sumia's shaking ones, "how about we grab dinner as a family tonight and share all our stories? We'll even have brand-new stories from the festival itself, I'm sure!"

Sumia's expression softened into a warm smile. "…Definitely."

"It's a deal! You, me, Morgan, and—" Cynthia stopped herself, frowning a bit. No, not… "Y-You, me, and Morgan."

Sumia seemed curious, but Cynthia didn't explain herself. Seemed uncomfortable enough to dissuade Sumia from pressing, as well. "Sounds lovely."

"Seliph?" Chrom was nonplussed. "And… friends."

Seliph, Lena, and… a woman he assumed to be the Silver-Haired Maiden all stood before him, composed in identical bearings: eyes closed, heads inclined respectfully.

"We owe you so much," Seliph stated. His voice, trembling on the verge of betraying emotion, contrasted with his calmer profession of the same yesterday. "We—for a hundred years, we…" He paused, grimacing.

"We couldn't begin to thank you," said Lena gently. "For your service to us… and for helping Prince Marth. He suffered hardship unlike the rest of ours, yet…" She shook her head. "The least we can do is pledge to you our servitude. Exalt Chrom…"

Lena, Seliph, and Micaiah all raised their hands in unison, each clutching their respective cards tightly.

"Please accept our—"

Chrom waved it away, sharing a look with Maribelle. "Nah, nah, give those to Morgan. She's the tactician around here; I need you following her orders."

The three Einherjar hesitated, exchanging glances, and they slowly withdrew their hands. "…I suppose that would be more appropriate," said Seliph. "Y-You must understand that this is an emotional ordeal to us… We've never known a master other than Beatrice."

"That's fine," said Chrom, smiling. "I'm sure Morgan wouldn't mind if you gave her the same speech you just gave me. Go on, then."

"There was something else," said Micaiah.

Er, presumably Micaiah. "You're the Silver-Haired Maiden, correct?"

"Yes, I am, but please—call me Micaiah." She smiled pleasantly.

"Micaiah it is. You said there was something else?"

"Yes." Micaiah gestured at Chrom's abdomen. "Allow me to service your wound. You needn't walk around in such shape when I can correct it my magic."

"Ah…" Chrom scratched his head. "Yeah, the magic that could heal Marth's impalement. Sacrifice, right?"

Micaiah brightened. "Yes!"

"Hmm…" Tempting, tempting. Micaiah would be left winded and breathless at best, in exchange for Chrom being able to walk normally…

And…

He glanced aside at Maribelle, who was watching him expectantly, curiosity in her eyes. And—and a bit of worry. Her eyes told the story of: 'This choice is yours, Chrom.'

Yesternight's epiphanies rose to mind.

"…Sorry, but I've gotta say no to this offer, too," Chrom said, grinning sheepishly. "If I don't just let it heal, then where's the lesson learned? No, I'm going to walk around with it for a bit longer. Maybe it'll drill into me how careless I was in that fight with Ephraim." He gave a thumbs-up. "Never make the same mistake twice, right?" Things I didn't expect I'd ever say yesterday…

Micaiah blinked awkwardly. "I-I see. Put that way, I suppose I can understand." She drew determination into her expression: "Regardless! Thank you, milord! We won't forget your kindness, ever. We'll serve you as long as we must."

"I'm glad to have you aboard."

With another reverent bow, the three Einherjar departed, likely in Morgan's direction.

Chrom let out a breath. "Well that's pretty ni—"

"Mind if we steal your attention next?"

Chrom and Maribelle faced the familiar voice. Chrom relaxed into a smile as he responded, "Glad you finally made it, Annas."

Three Annas stood before him, all smiling identically.

"You know, I hope you're not offended that I can never tell which one of you is ours," Chrom added.

"Y'know, I'm very offended," said the Anna in the center, but the other two hit her on each arm.

"She's tryin' to trick you," said the rightmost Anna. "I'm Anna. 'Shepherd,' so to speak." She grinned at Chrom. "Sorry I missed out on the fight! But it seems like you didn't need my help after all, huh?"

"No, but it would've been appreciated regardless. Welcome back. And…" Chrom extended a hand. "Sorry for suspecting you."

Anna shook Chrom's hand. "It's no big deal. But I should've known! Practically all my sisters knew about Old Hubba but me!" She pouted. "I felt so left out…"

"We coddle her too much," said Left Anna matter-of-factly.

"She's always in the Inrealm," said Center Anna. "She doesn't trust her sense of direction in the Outrealms—rightly so—so we don't get to see her much anyway. Figured Old Hubba would never be an issue to her."

Maribelle bristled. "What a dangerous assumption! If she'd known—"

"—Then nothing would've changed," said Left Anna. She pointed her thumb at Center Anna; "Did you forget that Pickles swung by a few days ago? She had orders from Mother not to say anything. Shepherd would've had the same orders."

Chrom's jaw dropped. He had completely forgotten. "You—Y-You were here! How did you even get in the mansion? Why did you come?"

"I snuck in," said Center Anna—Pickles, apparently—flatly. "I've had scrapes with the Einherjar before; I couldn't just walk in and out the front door. And I told you then why I was there: dropping off Robin-related info. We've been trying to follow him, but we lost his trail two days ago."

Roaring 'why didn't you tell us about the old man?!' occupied the corner of Chrom's mind, but he figured he already knew the sort of cryptic answer he'd get, so he quashed it in favor of something more pertinent. "…So you don't know where Robin is?"

"We never did. We only know where he's been! The trail went cold, so what we want you to do is retrace his steps. We know that he awoke in Old Hubba's Outrealm and then went to the Springrealm. We can trace his path a few Outrealms past that, and then it goes cold."

"How do you mean?" asked Maribelle.

"She means we can't tell where the Outrealm Gate took him, if he used it at all," said Left Anna. "And at the moment, we aren't well-equipped enough to simply follow him into the dangerous Outrealms he left behind. That's where you come in, Shepherds."

"So Robin was in the Springrealm," said Chrom, darkening. "That's why we're going there. It was never about the Harvest Festival."

Both of the Annas blinked. "What?" They both laughed. "No, no! Trust me, we've scoured the Springrealm up and down. If there were signs of Robin being there, we would've found them. No, you guys really are just going there for vacation. Your real work starts tomorrow."

Chrom released a breath. "Good, good…" A thought occurred to him. "And what about Old Hubba?"

"We'll take him to the Springrealm ourselves after you guys," said Pickles, pumping her fists. "He's had a cell with his name on it for a hundred years!"

"Good," Maribelle spat.

Chrom crossed his arms. "So that's everything, I think. Should we get going now?"

All three of the Annas brightened. "Yes! Party time!"

Chrom had had brief trepidations as he stared into the cyan abyss, but when he held his breath and passed through, the Outrealm Gate simply swirled about him mildly uncomfortably. No worse for the wear, he stepped easily onto the Springrealm's fertile soil.

From the hill the Shepherds had alighted upon, they could see the Springrealm's capital city in its entirety. At least, it could only have been the capital; the Springrealm was a dense metropolis, and even from this distance, festivities could be heard. Splashes of colorful decorations populated the sprawl.

"G-Gods, you weren't kidding," Morgan murmured. "This really DOES put Ylisstol to shame…"

"This city's sometimes called the Crossroad," said Pickles, winking at the tactician. "The most populated area in the Outrealms! This isn't the only inhabited Outrealm, but it's definitely the biggest."

"That's so cool." Morgan's legs felt weak, intimidated by the scale. "That's—that's so cool!"

"Alright, everyone." Chrom leaned on his good hip as he waved his arm, at last catching the attention of the Shepherds milling about. "Headcount checks out, everyone's here, so I'll finally get on with it so we can go down there and enjoy the festivities. First things first! The Annas were kind enough to prepare room and board for us within the city, so we're all going to stop by tonight's living arrangements first to put our things down and secure the convoy. Heh, but don't get too comfortable; we're only here for the one night." He grinned widely. "We've got one day of leave, and then we're back to the grind at last! Starting tomorrow, we are finding Robin!"

The Shepherds answered with a cheer.

Chrom sighed, smiling. "That's what I like to hear. Now let's get going."

Emmeryn was a bit nonplussed. No sooner had the Annas seen them off with "Be sure you don't miss the fireworks tonight! It's a spectacle!" than the Shepherds scattered. Some of the more antisocial among them immediately made to hide away in the Shepherds' lodgings for the day, but the vast majority spread out into the busy town, hopefully keeping their curfew in mind (they couldn't go TOO far).

Well, the day was young, and there was no shortage of things to do. When Frederick turned to her with a smile, asking "Where to, milady," Emmeryn felt a nostalgic tingling in her chest.

Adventure.

The feeling reminded her strongly of Valm Harbor. A city the size of which she'd never seen, bustling with an uncountable number of strangers, so many things to see and do… And this curiosity matched the eagerness she'd been filled with when she had first (re-)learned how to read and write. Oh, she had so much she wanted to do.

She grinned widely as a plan began to take shape in her mind.

The buildings tended to be somewhat shorter than those typical of Ylisstol, granting a very open feel to the city. The wide streets were accommodating for the many pedestrians, as well, leading to a gentle walk for Maribelle and Chrom as they perused the cheerful Harvest Festival.

Maribelle paused, touching her hand gently against Chrom's wrist. "Do you need to sit down?"

"Hm?" Chrom murmured, absently taking her hand. "Ah, if you wanted to keep walking, that'd be fine."

Maribelle smirked a bit. "Oh, come now. Don't pretend to be having fun, that's just insulting."

Chrom chuckled. "All right, all right, I'll take you up on that. Maybe there's a stage performance or something I could sit down for."

"We shouldn't have any trouble finding one."

"Unless," Chrom said, nodding up ahead. Maribelle followed his eye, already growing a warm smile. Lissa was hurrying over, a bright grin on her face as she ran.

"Lissa," Maribelle greeted cheerfully when the healer stopped before them. "Good morning!"

"Good morning!" Lissa responded. "Maribelle, look at my hat!"

Maribelle's eyes drifted upwards. Sure enough, a conical party hat adorned the princess's head. "…That is indeed a hat."

"There's a bunch more, and I need to get you one! C'mon!" Lissa tugged on her friend's arm. "Chrom, do you mind if I borrow her for a bit?"

"Haha, not at all. Keep her as long as you want, actually; I should just go lie down."

Maribelle started. "Chrom—?!"

"Don't worry about it," Chrom laughed. "I'm just still tired. I'll nap for a bit, and then I'll come back out. Sound good?"

Maribelle seemed a bit reluctant. "If you say so. But—But don't miss the fireworks." She squeezed his hand momentarily, and then released it. "I want to watch them with you."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Chrom gave her a two-finger salute as he began to walk away. "I'll see you then. Have fun, you two."

"Thanks, Chrom!" Lissa tugged at Maribelle again. "Now let's goooo…!"

"Hahaha… Yes, yes…"

Chrom heard their voices fading as they went their separate ways, soon becoming indistinguishable in the crowd.

He stretched his arm, feeling stings race down his wounded hip that drew a grimace to his face. Man, screw symbolism. I should've just taken Micaiah up on her offer… He sighed. Oh well.

Lucina couldn't help but think of Brady as she listened to the stage performers playing their music for the dining area. She sat at a table alone, cupping her chin in her palm and listening, admiring the peaceful scenario. Brady was a talented musician, she knew; were circumstances different, perhaps he'd be on a stage much like this one as a career. Not… war. An artist born in a position of royalty: how unfortunate. But—keeping spirits high—Lucina mused that Brady could do whatever he wanted with himself once Robin was found and they returned home. He may be royalty in their future, but in this time, he is simply a talented man.

Lucina found the thought comforting. She closed her eyes, losing herself to the music.

"Yo, Lucina!"

Lucina's chin slipped off of her hand, nearly slamming painfully into the table. "Wha…!" She looked up at the newcomer. "Oh… Hello, Morgan. You startled me. How are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good!" The tactician slid into a seat across the table from Lucina. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. But I expected you to be with Cynthia and Lady Sumia?"

Morgan giggled. "Mom's hanging out with Cordelia today, and Cynthia's off doing her own thing, so nah." She tapped her chin. "Oh yeah, Nah. She's with her parents. Pretty happy for her."

"So you didn't find yourself busy, then?"

"Not true! I specifically wanted to find you today, Lucina."

Lucina's curiosity was piqued. "Really?"

"Yes, absolutely." Morgan placed her arm on the table as she leaned closer, grinning. "I need your help for something, Luce. Aaand it's kinda sketchy."

Lucina was immediately reminded of Morgan's theft of the Warp Powder the other day, so a skeptical leer came to the princess's eye. "…I imagine that neither of us should get involved, then."

"No, no, I think you'll like it." Morgan's expression twinkled with enthusiasm. "I'll cut to the chase, Lucina: Marth and Caeda, the lovely Einherjar couple, are probably squandering this beautiful, romantic festival by not spending it with each other."

Lucina hesitated. "That's… none of our…"

Morgan's grin widened when Lucina trailed off thoughtfully. "I guess you see where I'm going with this, then. I, grandmaster tactician of the legendary Shepherds, do proclaim that we shall hook those two lovebirds up. You in?"

Lucina found a little smile growing on her face, but she suddenly shook her head, blinking as if awakening. "Th-That's ridiculous. They are adults, Morgan. They don't need our help."

"They totally do, though," Morgan insisted. "C'mon. You know Marth. You know him better than I do. (You even dress like the guy…)" She narrowed her eyes at Lucina. "Do you actually think he's going to make a move on Caeda, if it took him years to do the same a hundred years ago? Hell, that's how it happened for real two thousand years ago, too! Nobody spitting out their damn feelings." Morgan was still smiling when she said, "With a little push, though…"

Lucina was clearly tempted.

"I'm not my dad, for sure, but I like to think I'm okay enough at reading people," said Morgan. "I'd imagine giving Marth some closure of the sort would be cathartic to you."

Lucina felt Morgan's words strike true, but a retort quickly reached her. "Then what about you, hm? What do you get from this? Why bring it up at all?"

"Peace of mind."

Morgan was smiling so simply, so genuinely. Almost naively, had Lucina not known her. Lucina couldn't get much of a read on Morgan's expression—whether she was lying or understating or whatever—but as she thought on it, she found that it didn't matter much what Morgan's motivations were, as long as her heart was in the right place.

And that, Lucina was certain, it was.

It suddenly struck Emmeryn that the trinkets being sold at the kiosks were surprisingly mundane. Bracelets, earrings, the like. Nothing… nothing otherworldly. Nothing that said "I bought this from an alternate plane of existence!" Plus, they accepted ordinary gold, and—

Emmeryn frowned thoughtfully, lifting a broach to examine it. The small piece of metal was fashioned in the shape of the Brand of the Exalt.

"You gonna buy that?"

Emmeryn jumped, antiquated nervousness striking her. She'd had some poor experiences with shopkeepers in the past, after all. "N-No, sorry…" She returned the broach to its spot on display. "Just, just curious." She combed her fingers through her bangs anxiously, glad she'd had the foresight to hide her Brand. Without Frederick nearby, she felt more secure if she could melt into a crowd.

Ah! She was suddenly reminded why she'd parted ways with Frederick.

"If you're at my side, I'll never want to talk to the locals," she laughed lightly. "I'm afraid… that we're far too close, Frederick. I want to be able to talk to more people."

Frederick scratched his head. "Ah… I suppose I should be flattered by that reasoning. Well, far be it from me to keep you from having a good time, but I must insist you stay armed."

Emmeryn laughed. "Please, Frederick… I've learned that lesson."

Emmeryn smiled a little bit. He's always so concerned about me. Then, she faced the shopkeeper. I wanted to learn more about this place; that's why I'm alone. "Excuse me…"

"Hm?" The man glanced at her, growing an amicable smile for his customer. "Changed your mind?"

"N—" Emmeryn paused. "Y-Yes, I have. How much… for the broach?"

"Thirty gold."

"Of course…" She dug into her pocket quietly, scraping the loose coins into her palm. Soon, having gathered enough, she handed it over to the vendor with a friendly smile.

"Enjoy!" The shopkeeper dropped the Brand-emblazoned broach into her palm.

"Um…" Emmeryn clutched the broach to her heart, thinking hard. "P-Pardon me, but… are you from here? The, the Springrealm?"

The man stroked his beard, eyeing her curiously. "You must be new, huh. You from the Hotrealm?"

"N-No. I'm actually from the Inrealms."

The vendor's eyebrow quirked. "Whoa, really new. New enough to not know it's called the 'Inrealm.'"

Emmeryn frowned. "Isn't that what I said…?"

"Nuh-uh, you said Inrealms, plural. It's all referred to as the Inrealm, singular." He shrugged. "Odd, I know. There's a ton of parallel 'Inrealms,' so I dunno why either."

Emmeryn tapped her chin. "That's very strange…"

"Ah, but I left your question hangin', huh? I've lived here for… hmm, three years, just about, and I'd consider it my home too, but I guess I'm not from this here Springrealm. I was born 'n' raised in Valm."

"Y-You're from Valm?" Emmeryn wasn't sure why she got so excited from hearing that. She was from Ylisse, per se… not Valm, not anymore. "How did you end up here…?"

The shopkeeper sighed deeply. "See, I imagine it's the same situation as yours. Same as everyone's, or at least everyone I know. My timeline fell to the Fell Dragon, so the Annas swooped in, saved as many people as they could, and brought them here."

His words were a blow to Emmeryn's gut. "Y-You… come from a fallen world…?"

"…You don't?" The man's confusion was palpable. "Then… you're visiting?"

"Visiting? Ha, I… suppose that's an optimistic way of looking at it…"

"Huh!" The man was grinning. "That's a first, miss, I'll give you that! Visitors. Hm. Everyone I know has either lived in the Outrealms for generations or came from a world the Grimleal took." He crossed his arms. "So, like… everything worked out in your timeline? Grima never awoke?"

"It was defeated… Killed." A shudder ran down Emmeryn's spine.

"Killed." Now, a frown affixed itself onto the vendor's expression. He leaned against his kiosk, lost in thought. "Gods, killed. There's… another me that didn't have to put up with all that shit. I lost a lot of friends back then."

Emmeryn cringed. "I-I'm sorry…" Overwhelming guilt began to rise as she realized she shouldn't have brought this up.

The shopkeeper's eyes widened, noticing that Emmeryn was on the verge of tears. "B-But it wasn't all bad! My wife was pregnant when the apocalypse struck, and she gave birth after we arrived here." He grinned proudly. "So my son is actually an Outrealmer! Not a man of the Earth! So I think things worked out pretty well."

"Adjusting must have been so d-difficult," Emmeryn murmured, wiping her eyes.

"Hmm… Yeah, I guess it was. Nobody knew what the 'Outrealms' were, or really even what was going on back in our world, until the Annas rescued us and explained everything. We weren't happy—BELIEVE me, a lot of us weren't happy—but we settled because we had to. And now…" He gestured vaguely, indicating the festival. "Look at what's come of it!"

Emmeryn blinked. "Wa-Wait, you mean to say that… this was barren land just three years ago?"

"Heh! No, no, the Springrealm's been around… forever? I dunno. But it's much bigger than it was. The Annas brought thousands of people aside from me. And in the past year they've been bringing in more than ever."

"That's amazing," Emmeryn breathed. "I had no idea the Annas were so… so… proactive!"

"Yeah, I guess so," the shopkeeper mused. "Hm. You seem pretty knowledgeable for someone not from here. Are you somebody important in your time?"

"No," said Emmeryn confidently, smiling. "No, I am not." She extended her hand. "Thank you so much, for, um… letting me pick your brain. If I were from here… I'd wish we were friends, mister."

"Heheh. Yeah, likewise, lady." He shook her hand. "Enjoy your broach."

Emmeryn glowed, clutching the ornament tightly.

"…I told you that hat would look great on you."

Maribelle forced a half-smile, adjusting her hair somewhat. Gods, she hoped this hat wasn't messing it up, but she just couldn't bring herself to disappoint Lissa. "Y-Yes, I suppose."

Lissa giggled teasingly. "Man! This is so fun! We haven't had time together, just the two of us, in a hot minute, have we?"

"Not since we entered the Outrealms, no. However, I'm enjoying this time now." Maribelle smiled.

"Me too! I blame Chrom, honestly. He coulda fielded me back on Talys, but nooo."

"Hahaha."

They walked together for a bit longer. Lissa was chattering about whatever, but Maribelle was lost in thought, even taking to biting her thumbnail—a habit she had thought dead, and disgustedly stopped as soon as she realized what she was doing. Occupying her hands by fiddling with her parasol instead, she returned to thought.

"…Say, Lissa…"

"Hm?" The princess's bright eyes turned to her friend. "Sup?"

"How are you and Vaike doing?"

Lissa smiled. "We're great! We even got to dance yesterday, and I couldn't tell you the last time that's happened!"

"That's lovely."

An anxious knot had settled in Maribelle's gut, but she maintained her bearing flawlessly. She'd had much practice with keeping her composure.

"I'm certain you've told me before, Lissa, but… how did you and Vaike, well, get together?"

"Oh boy," Lissa chuckled. "Not gonna lie, I thought Vaike was super annoying when I first met him through the Shepherds. He kinda grew on me during the war with Plegia, though I only started like-liking him during Valm. And he can be charming!"

"Hahaha. That's lovely, but honestly, I was hoping for something more specific."

Lissa winked. "How specific are you talking?" She waved it away. "Naw, I'm just kidding. I think it was because we tended to fight close to each other, really. There was a time he mindlessly jumped in front of me to protect me. Like, for him, it was instinct. His heart said 'jump,' so he said 'hell yeah!' I had to respect that. He's got spirit! The same kind of spirit as me! And hopefully that's something he's teaching our son right now."

"Don't worry, dear. I'm certain Owain has a surplus of it." Maribelle and Lissa both chuckled. "So you would say your affection grew on the battlefield?"

"Hmm…" Lissa frowned thoughtfully. "Well, I'd say it grew the most during our private time, ifyaknowwhatImsayin', but yeah, I think the fighting was what brought us together."

"That's… That's very sweet, Lissa." Maribelle gave her friend a smile, which Lissa reciprocated before returning to whatever subject she'd been bubbling about before.

Maribelle's grip tightened on her parasol, a semblance of fear clutching at her.

"Alright, Lucy, here it is." Morgan spread a tall sheet of paper across the table, causing Lucina to raise her eyebrows. "My ten-step plan to get Marth and Caeda together once and for all." Before Lucina could even voice her surprise, Morgan stabbed her pointer finger onto the page's first bullet point: "Step One! We throw small rocks at Caeda and Marth each, causing them to look for who did it, until they finally run into each other instead."

"Ah—"

"Step Two! While they're being awkward, drizzle water on their heads to make them think it's raining so they run under cover together and have to stay there and talk."

"Morgan—"

"Step Three! When they realize it wasn't rain at all, and they start to leave cover, we bring in the singer quartet we've hired to—"

Though she was mildly curious as to what Morgan could possibly have in store for the remaining seven steps, Lucina wasn't interested enough to humor Morgan for that much longer. "No, that's absurd and furthermore will not work. A tactician of your caliber should have a better plan than that."

Morgan sighed, rolling the paper back up and stuffing it into her coat pocket. "Yeah, yeah, I figured…" She rested her chin across the table, seeming let down. "Fine, we'll do Plan B, then. The B is for Boring."

"With you, it never is."

"It's just a modification of Step One of the last plan, but a little less exciting, and with no other involvement past that…"

Lucina squinted, trying to remember what Step One was. "Throwing rocks…?"

"Yeah, it's that, but without the rock throwing." Morgan sat up, finally sprouting a little grin. "What you and I have to do is, we each talk to Caeda and Marth separately, and we steer them to talk to each other." She waggled her finger; "Now that I think about it, maybe this is more fun! Though I was really excited about the sharks we'd use for the first plan."

Lucina pursed her lips. She wasn't going to ask.

"Anyway, how's that sound? Good plan? Bad plan?"

The princess nodded. "Yes. If we are to get involved in their personal lives, it would be best to be direct, yet hands-off." She placed her hands on the table to push herself to her feet. "I will go find Marth at once."

Her words stabbed momentary panic into Morgan. "Wh—No, no, I thought…"

Lucina paused, hovering near the table. "What is it?"

Morgan combed her fingers through her hair, smiling sheepishly. "I, uh, was kinda hoping I could go talk to Marth, and you'd speak to Caeda…" She shook her head, straightening her expression and quickly standing. "N-No, you're right, it makes way more sense for you to talk to Marth." She forced a smile and a thumbs-up: "You got it! I'll go find Caeda! See you later, right?"

"…Right," Lucina murmured skeptically, and Morgan gave a salute before hurrying away. Shaking her head and focusing, Lucina turned; she had a vague idea of where Marth was, so she may as well start looking.

How curious, Emmeryn mused, that she would be walking alone at this point. She frowned as she drew closer to Cynthia; the pegasus knight was perusing the stalls, hands clasped behind her back as she examined the variety of odds and ends available.

"Cynthia," Emmeryn called, alerting the pegasus knight.

"Hm? Oh!" Cynthia grinned. "Hey there, Lady Emmeryn!"

"No need for such formality… Just Emmeryn is fine." Emmeryn tilted her head curiously. "I'm surprised to see you, ah… on your own. I would think you would be with your sister or your mother… Or Inigo, even."

Cynthia flinched. "Y-Yeah, uh… they all were busy, heheh. I kinda wanted to explore on my own anyway."

Cynthia was never a good liar, but far be it from Emmeryn to call her out on it. "Me too."

Cynthia hesitated. "…Anyway, shouldn't you be with Frederick?"

"I wanted to explore," Emmeryn replied flatly. "I didn't want… to be babysat."

Whoa, Cynthia thought. Babysat. She hadn't expected such an honest answer from Emmeryn, and certainly not such a quick one. Well, she reasoned, I suck at lying, so she's prolly already figured out I wasn't being honest. If she can be so blunt, so can I. "I, um… If I'd insisted, I probably could've tagged along with Mom," she began uncertainly. "There's no way Miss Cordelia would be upset at Mom bringing me along. I just… feel awkward around her, for now. Mom, I mean. I guess you remember why, huh?"

Emmeryn sighed. Yes, she understood as much. She had been there when Sumia and Cynthia had had the argument that divided them for so long.

"And Inigo, well…" Cynthia scratched her head sheepishly. "I, uh, I snubbed him pretty hard last night. I don't think… at least, I'm not sure if even our friendship will survive." She seemed to be forcing a smile, but Emmeryn caught the bitter taste hiding underneath. "…So yeah, I figured it'd be best that I don't see him today. I've been avoiding him."

"That's too bad…"

Cynthia glanced away. "I guess so. But I mean—I—I didn't do anything wrong! I made the right decision, right? Inigo brought it on himself!"

Emmeryn was lacking some context in this area, and she wasn't sure what kind of advice Cynthia wanted. So, she did what she could: "How about… I hide you from him today?"

Cynthia blinked.

"On one condition." Emmeryn smirked a bit. "Keep me company."

Cynthia put her hands on her hips, sighing. "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Emmeryn." She winked. "But with a deal like that, I guess I've got no choice but to cave, huh?"

Emmeryn giggled.

Maribelle nodded along, smiling amicably. "That's very sweet."

Nowi bounced on her toes enthusiastically. "I know, right?!" She tugged on her husband's sleeve. "I remember it was exactly the third fight in Valm. Right Libra? Libraaa! Remember?!"

"Yes, yes," said Libra, chuckling patiently. "You kissed me during that battle. It was quite distracting, not to mention confusing, especially since you didn't confess your feelings until afterward."

Nah, lingering nearby, furrowed her eyebrows. "Huh? You kissed before you fell in love?"

Her parents both turned to her. "Yep!" said Nowi brightly, while Libra was hastily interrupting with "I-I had no intention of laying a finger on her until we were both—"

"Let's not get too detailed," Maribelle interrupted (not losing her pleasant tone), putting up her hand. "I'm certain Nah doesn't want to hear all of that."

Nah squirmed, averting her eyes. "Uh, yeah. That'd be… weird."

Lissa giggled. "You guys are so fun. How are you three, by the way?"

"We're great!" said Nowi immediately, bubbling.

"We're…" Nah glanced at her parents, then quickly away. "We're, excited." She quietly moved closer to Libra, who picked up on the hint by taking her hand securely and giving her a warm smile.

"Well, I would hate to keep you." Maribelle waved farewell. "Have fun today."

Nowi waved back, already starting to drag her family away. "Thanks! You too, you two! Hee hee!"

As she and Lissa began to walk once again, Maribelle felt a guilty pit begin to settle in her stomach. Guilt that—in spite of her suspicions—in spite of the correlation she was becoming surer and surer of—she couldn't help but feel happy for them.

"Ahoy!" The word escaped Morgan's mouth, and immediately the tactician regretted her entire life. 'Ahoy'? What the hell kind of greeting is that?! But she'd succeeded in catching Caeda's attention, for better or worse. "I-I mean, hi! How's it going?"

As Caeda realized who was approaching, flicker of alarm passed through her eyes, followed by a skeptical glare. "…Morgan."

"Ahaha… yup, that's, that's me." Morgan rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Uh, I came over here to, uh…"

"Pardon me." Caeda faced Morgan directly, her expression hard. "Morgan. May I speak to you for a moment?"

Morgan blinked. "Um—"

"I have something I would like to say to you… Assuming, of course, that you'll allow me that much?"

Morgan flinched. Okay, yeah, she's still mad. "…S-Sure, Caeda. Speak your mind." Please be gentle.

"I have hoped to speak with you for a while now, and I've thought hard on what I wanted to say. Now, I think I am ready."

Caeda took a breath.

"The other day, I was still a bit skeptical," she began. "Lady Maribelle had told me this and that about the Einherjar, gave explanation after plausible explanation such that it couldn't possibly be anything but the truth. However, I couldn't help but doubt, even in the face of Lady Maribelle's assertions. Some part of me clung to a—a hope, perhaps, or perhaps simply laughable incredulity, that it was all some elaborate ruse. That, in some way, I would eventually learn that all of this 'Einherjar' business was somehow false, and I was human as I thought I had always been." She paused. "…So, in a way, I suppose I should thank you."

Morgan was shivering with guilt, unable to meet Caeda's eye.

"By exercising your power over me, demonstrating my utter inability to disobey you, you showed me in a visceral manner that I am indeed a mere construct. You showed that I am not human. Now, I have no doubts." Caeda shook her head. "I cannot be angry at you, Morgan. I understand why you did what you did. It could have happened to anyone; I merely had the misfortune of being the subject of your test. …But, I cannot find it in myself to forgive you." She waited for Morgan to meet her eye, which, slowly, the tactician did. "I respect your position greatly, Morgan, but I do not wish to become friends."

Caeda started to turn away, but she paused, a wry half-smile appearing on her face. "I believe that is the first time I have ever said those words." Having finally said her piece, she walked away.

Morgan fell to her knees, gasping for air. That… wasn't gentle at all.

"We should talk to him, shouldn't we?"

"Yes… I think we should."

"After all, it's weird to see him alone like that. Where're his parents? Where's Lucina?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Y'know, taking him on will mean two people alongside you, three in total. Didn't you want to explore alone today?"

Emmeryn shook her head. "But, see… I wanted to be alone so I could meet strangers!" She smiled. "And I feel terribly about how much of a stranger I am to you… and to Brady."

They turned their eyes to the bored-looking prince strolling down the street with his hands in his pockets.

Cynthia cupped her hands around her mouth, and without regard for her surroundings, she called loudly, "BRAAAAAA-DYYYYYYYY!"

Brady started, looking around for the voice. When he finally determined Cynthia as the disturbance, he grew a surly curl to his brow and walked closer, shooting furtive glances over each shoulder.

Cynthia waved him over, grinning. "Hey, over here!"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya," Brady muttered, stopping before Cynthia and Emmeryn. "Quit yer shoutin'. You're botherin' the people around us, y'know." He nodded at Emmeryn. "How's it goin', Auntie?"

"'Auntie?'" Emmeryn mused. "Um… Maybe just Aunt Emmeryn? Or—Or Aunt Emm!"

Brady shrugged. "If ya say so. So how can I help y'all?"

"Where's Lucina?" Cynthia asked.

"Busy. Last I saw, she an' Morgan were hangin' out."

Cynthia sighed. "So that's where Morgan went."

"What about… my brother?" Emmeryn asked. "And your mother, too?"

"Also busy. Pa's nappin', Ma's with Aunt Lissa." Brady shrugged. "Guess I'm goin' solo today, heh."

"Come with us, then!" Cynthia chirped.

Even before he answered, Emmeryn could tell that Brady seemed reluctant, so she quickly continued to push: "I, I want to spend time with you, Brady! You're my nephew… but I feel as though we've never really spoken."

Brady seemed uncomfortable, averting his eyes. His mouth opened—and closed, uselessly searching for a reply. After another moment's indecision, he muttered, "Aight, I'll, uh… yeah. I'll tag along. May as well enjoy myself, right?"

Emmeryn smiled. "I'm glad to hear that."

Lucina's heart pounded in her chest as she strode through the milling crowds. I just need to be honest. She could see Marth not far ahead. There has been more than our fair share of deception lately. I simply must be direct. It wasn't long before she reached him; hesitantly reaching for Marth's shoulder, Lucina swallowed her hesitance. "Prince Marth." She also tapped his shoulder to surely catch the Hero-King's attention.

"Ah… Lucina." Marth smiled as he faced her. "Are you enjoying the festival?"

"I am," said Lucina pleasantly. "Actually, I've had quite a good time so far. Wh-What of you? Are you having fun?"

"Indeed. It's…" Marth glanced downward. "It's quite a… a pleasant change of pace."

Lucina winced. Yes, it must be.

Lucina, herself, had never seen a Harvest Festival, at least not since she was able to remember… not since before Grima. The very idea of festivals was almost comical in her future past. The thought that so many people could come together and celebrate in peace… And Marth was the same way. But where Lucina had had no concept of festivities for the better part of twenty years, Marth had been drained of such hope for over a century.

A-All the more reason! Lucina thought desperately, her hand clenching around Falchion's hilt. He must enjoy this time. Even for an immortal such as him, these pleasures are fleeting.

"Prince Marth," Lucina repeated. "Have you spoken to Caeda since your return?"

To Lucina's surprise, Marth's amicable smile quickly wilted. "No. I have not."

The princess's confusion manifested in a wrinkle to her brow, but nonetheless, she continued to smile. "Then now would be an excellent time! You should spend today's festivities together."

Marth's eyes averted.

"After all," she continued, "the two of you belong together."

Marth visibly recoiled, alarming Lucina. "N-No!" he exclaimed quickly, but the prince caught his overly-loud tone before continuing. Returning to a semblance of composure, Marth resumed, "Th… Thank you for your concern, Lucina, but I must decline. H-Have a pleasant afternoon."

Marth hastily strode away, leaving Lucina dumbfounded.

Wha… Lucina shook her head numbly. What did I do wrong? Why did he respond so…?

She shook her head. No, no time for that! She spied his blue hair bobbing through the crowd, growing ever more distant; If I want answers, I need only ask!

Lucina charged after him at a sprint, calling his name loudly:

"Prince Marth, wait!"

The trio of Emmeryn, Cynthia, and Brady clapped along with the rest of the spectators, each wearing a smile. From their stage on the dais in the center of the outdoor dining area, the dancers all took their bows and began their exits. With the show over, the audience returned their attention to their tables and their food.

"They were very talented," Emmeryn noted, setting her cup down. "I wonder… how long did they practice that routine?"

"Months, fer sure," Brady answered immediately. He slouched against the table, his eyes still focused on the dancers even as they left. "Performances like that ain't easy. I used ta have piano recitals now an' again when I was a kid, an' that musta been way less work. Way harder when ya've got a bunch o' folks performin' instead o' just one." He scratched his chin. "Fer eight dancers… I'd guess two months on that one dance. Bet they've got tons more, though. Who knows how long the troupe's been together."

Emmeryn blinked, glancing at Cynthia to see if she was similarly surprised by Brady's in-depth response. Instead, she was absorbed in her food, slurping up the noodles like they would disappear were she to take her eyes from them.

I suppose she's known Brady for a long time, Emmeryn thought. She shouldn't be surprised. A pang of envy hit her. I feel so left out…

"You seem very knowledgeable," said Emmeryn. "And, I didn't know that you played the piano, too?"

Brady shrugged. "Not since I was a kid, nah. I held onto my violin durin' the apocalypse, since it was portable an' all, but I didn't really wanna lug a piano around everywhere."

"Ah."

"Mm." Cynthia spoke up at last, struggling to quickly swallow a mouthful of noodles. "…Hah. Yeah, he brought that thing everywhere. Y'know how many meals we coulda fit in that space your violin was taking up, Brady?"

Brady snorted. "Yeah, it forced us ta leave behind all that food that didn't exist."

"Uh-huh. We could've fit so many rotting berries there, you don't even know!"

Cynthia and Brady both shared a chuckle that Emmeryn couldn't even begin to comprehend.

"Th-That sounds awful," she murmured. "I'm sorry you had to go through that…"

Both Cynthia and Brady faced her, sobering a bit. "…No, don't worry about it," Cynthia said. "I mean, we know it was crappy and all, but it was in the past… kinda. If we can't joke about it, then…"

Brady sighed. "Sorry, Aunt Emm. We usually keep those grim kinds o' jokes ta ourselves. Us future kids, I mean. We, uh… we should know better than ta say that stuff 'round anyone else. Always brings the mood down."

Emmeryn frowned deeply. "I just… I can't even imagine. N-Not long after you all found me, Lucina told me about time travel… about the future you came from… but I never got any details."

Brady and Cynthia exchanged a glance. "Uh… I mean, ya have us now," Brady said. "If you wanted to ask…"

"Can I?" Emmeryn looked between her nephew and Cynthia. "Wouldn't that bring up bad memories?"

"But it's over," Brady replied. "We ain't going back there. It's happened, it's over, and now everythin's better. No need to get so emotional over it."

"Well… I suppose I'll ask, then. Is it true that there was no food?"

"Not exactly," Cynthia said. "So, during Grima's Earth, a buncha dust went into the air. After a few years of more and more dust rising, the sun was slowly blocked out. By the time Lady Lissa was killed—I was eighteen at the time—you couldn't see the sun at all. And there was no rain, either. Endless drought. Days and nights blended together, everything started dying…"

"There wasn't no color anymore," Brady muttered. "Well, that ain't true. There was three colors." He ticked them off on his fingers: "Brown, gray, an' red. Ta be fair, now I can tell all the shades o' those colors apart."

"Hold on… Grima's Earth?" Emmeryn shook her head. "You said that as if it's a term."

"Oh, uh… might wanna ask Laurent about that, actually," said Cynthia. "Shockingly, he's a bit more knowledgeable about history stuff. Could explain it better." Brady nodded his agreement.

Emmeryn mentally filed that away.

"So yeah," Cynthia continued. "It was always cold. Big plants and animals died off pretty quick. Little things like squirrels, berries, rats and such were still not too hard to find. We had a few brushes with starvation, but none of the Shepherds ever died from it, I think."

"Our horses an' dragons an' pegasi were real antsy back then," Brady said. "Real gaunt. We fed them as much as we could, but a buncha times we had to abandon the big lugs so the rest of us'd be able to live." He glanced at Cynthia, who was wriggling contritely in her seat. "She knows what I'm talkin' 'bout."

"Uh… yeah. I tended to sneak my food to my pegasus if I thought she wasn't eating enough." Cynthia hung her head. "I mean, I was able to keep her alive all this time, but I got some stern lectures from Lucina about 'my life being more valuable' and stuff. But I couldn't just abandon her! She was my mother's!" She winced. "Seeing—seeing how it hurt Severa when her mother's pegasus got…" She shook her head, realizing that tears were threatening to surface. "No, no! I promised I wouldn't get emotional."

Brady chuckled. "Classic Cynthia, though. Horses ain't supposed ta eat meat, but you'd pass that stuff off too."

"Pegasi aren't horses! They can eat meat if they want!"

"Horses can eat meat too, dummy. They just shouldn't. Same fer pegasi."

"I feel that we're straying off topic," Emmeryn chimed in.

"Right!" Cynthia grinned. "Risen were also hunters, so we had to compete against them for food too!"

Emmeryn frowned. "Risen need to eat?" That didn't add up with her experiences with them. The ghost ship she'd encountered last September couldn't have had any food on it, certainly not enough to feed dozens of Risen for months…

Brady scowled. "No. They don't. They'd hunt our food just ta starve us out. An' they were everywhere. Sometimes alone, sometimes travelin' in hordes. On a good day, we coulda taken pretty much any number of 'em—long as they weren't those damn Counter Entombeds—but since we was always starvin', always weak, we constantly had ta run from the big hordes."

Emmeryn frowned. "That's terrible…"

"We should write a book about all this!" Cynthia said, shaking Brady's arm excitedly.

"We'll need Laurent's help, fer sure."

"Probably."

Emmeryn cupped her hands around her drink, staring down into the milky beverage. "…This was eye-opening," she said, smiling. "Thank you so much for explaining." She looked up at the two future children. "I have another question, though…"

"Fire away, Aunt Emm."

Emmeryn brushed her thumbs over the wooden flask absently. Her smile had softened a bit sheepishly. "I-It's a bit embarrassing to ask, but… what was I like?"

Brady and Cynthia blinked.

"I mean, um… I don't remember very much. Anything, really. Feelings and images appear sometimes, but… I only know what Robin's told me about my past. I don't really know what I was like." She looked between Brady and Cynthia's blank expressions. Her resolve faltered under their frozen gaze. "So… um…"

The future children exchanged a concerned glance. Brady scratched his head. "Uh… Sorry, Aunt Emmeryn, but we never… met you. Neither of us ever knew you."

"You were assassinated several years before I was born," said Cynthia quietly. "And by the time I came back to the past, it was well after you'd died in this timeline, too… R-Rather, allegedly died."

Emmeryn felt that this was obvious, that she should have expected this answer, but it was nonetheless a sobering blow. "I-I see…"

"If you wanna know more stuff like that, you could ask Pa," Brady offered. "He, well… actually knew you."

No, I couldn't do that to Chrom… I don't want him to think on what he's lost. Emmeryn took a shaky breath. I don't want him to wish he had the other Emmeryn instead…

The other Emmeryn. She'd never thought that way before. She had tried so hard to keep the two together, but in truth, she was not the same person who sacrificed herself three years ago. That was another Emmeryn…

And it was up to her to be an Emmeryn they would prefer.

"That's horribly unfair," Emmeryn declared. "Brady, you're my nephew. I want to get to know you, even if no other Emmeryn ever did."

Brady averted his eyes. "…Then, I s'pose I should go bring Lucina here, huh. So you can get to know the both of us."

"I can talk to her later," said Emmeryn, smiling down at Brady. "For now, I have you."

Brady was taken aback, a touch of red coloring his cheeks.

Emmeryn turned to Cynthia next. "I would dearly like to get to know you as well, Cynthia. We aren't bound by blood… but I want us to be that close, too." Old words came to Emmeryn: among the first words she could remember. "And family can transcend blood."

"'Family can transcend blood'…" Cynthia blushed intensely, tightly pursing her lips and nodding.

"Then…" Emmeryn clasped her hands, resting them on the table and leaning closer, eyes twinkling with affectionate interest. "Would you mind if I—"

A sudden uproar of shouting and clamor came from behind her, interrupting her and catching the trio's attention.

"Maribelle…"

Maribelle's ears perked as she glanced at the princess walking alongside her. "Yes, dear?"

Lissa met her eye, seeming a bit uncomfortable. She tugged on the noble's sleeve. "Hold on for a second."

Curiously, Maribelle stopped walking, and she and Lissa faced each other as the peaceful crowd continued to pass them by.

"What's the matter?"

Lissa took a slightly impatient breath. She could tell something was off about Maribelle, but she didn't know what, except that there was some correlation with the questions she kept asking everyone. Plus, either Maribelle was really good at faking having a good time, or she actually was having fun, and Lissa didn't want to sour her mood by prying into whatever it was Maribelle was so worked up over. If Maribelle didn't want to tell Lissa, of all people, then it was something personal.

"I'm really glad you agreed to join me today," said Lissa, smiling brightly. "I mean, you're my best friend, but we've still barely gotten to even see each other for the past few weeks."

Maribelle smiled in kind—and Lissa could tell there was a bit of relief hiding under there. Relief that Lissa didn't nose around where Maribelle didn't want her to.

"We've always been like family, y'know?" Lissa nudged Maribelle. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm glad we're literally family now."

"I feel the same way." Maribelle tilted her head. "What makes you bring that up? If you don't mind me asking."

Lissa shrugged. "I guess I've just been thinking about it a lot, since we've been talking with so many others about their love lives. …Aaand I wanted to see if I could call you nothing but 'Sis-In-Law' for the rest of my life."

Maribelle laughed daintily. "Aha, no, I might have to refuse you that one request. I am flattered, though."

They continued walking at last. Lissa's infectious cheer had thoroughly invaded Maribelle, to the point where she had to wonder: Why am I obsessing over this so frantically? Everything worked out, after all.

But despite the stab of optimism Lissa had inspired in her, one concern remained.

That thought would have to wait, however; a sudden commotion rang from further down the street, catching the two nobles' attention.

"Prince Marth, wait!"

As the words escaped Lucina while she ran, she noticed Marth instantly halt, clearly bristling as if struck by a thrown rock. The princess slowed to a halt as she neared Marth, who was also turning to face her, fear in his eyes.

Lucina frowned. The alarm in Marth's expression was… well, likewise alarming. Before she could express her confusion, however, she took sudden note of their surroundings.

The streets were wide, yes, and well-accommodating for such massive crowds, but still, a crowd there was. Several passersby had halted, watching Lucina and Marth with curiosity. Lucina realized that she must have caught their attention with her shouting, but she paid it little heed. Indeed, many of them were returning to their milling about anyway.

"Marth," she repeated, "please reconsider—"

However, a nearby stranger's voice caught her attention: a middle-aged man walking with his wife. "Weird," the man said to his wife. "It's pretty strange ta be named after the Hero-King."

Another nearby stranger suddenly tensed with alarm. "N-No, she said Prince Marth!" She leveled her pointer finger at Lucina and Marth. "Gods, that—that is Marth! It's an Einherjar!"

That word, Einherjar, immediately caught the attention of most of the citizens surrounding the two royals. It wasn't long before all eyes were on them, and the pedestrians in the immediate vicinity backed away with apparent alarm.

"I should never have come here," Marth said quietly, smiling without humor. "I should have waited outside the city, as most of us did…"

As she beheld the fear and loathing in the citizens' eyes, the gravity of Lucina's error began to settle as a painful ache in her stomach. This was her fault, and should they take violent action, she could not stop them.

"They are right to fear the Einherjar," Marth murmured. "Old Hubba inspired that in them over the course of a century."

"I'm so sorry," Lucina whispered. She couldn't look away from the petrified crowd. "I was careless…" …And what is the price of my error?

"No, I was careless," Marth replied. "Lucina—I want you to return me to my card. That should make this right."

Her eyes snapped onto him, horrified. "N-No! You'll lose all of your memories!"

Before Marth could reply, a stranger's voice rang out: "What the hell is the meaning of this, bringing one o' those monsters into our city?!"

The crowd broiled in agreement, fear replaced with determination now that they had a rallying voice.

"Are you in league with that old man?!"

"Gods, we were complacent! Just because we haven't had any trouble in over a year…"

Lucina took a hesitant, fruitless step back. Marth's eyes were fixed on the ground, empty.

"Have they been among us this whole time?! What if—"

"Hey!"

A girl's voice pierced the crowd, and one of their own marched forward.

No, not one of their own… Lucina's heart swelled, and she said breathlessly, "Morgan…!"

However, the tactician wore a stern expression as she marched closer, and as she drew even with Marth and Lucina, she turned on her heel to address the crowd.

"Yo!" she exclaimed, with a straight face. "Y'all need to chill out! This Einherjar is Marth, and he's mine." She gestured at Lucina. "Show them his card."

Lucina started, then scrambled for her pockets in order to produce the card. She then raised it high; the crowd's eyes followed it.

"As you can see, Marth isn't under Old Hubba's control," Morgan explained seriously. "In fact, we beat him up and rescued his Einherjar! You can visit him in jail, if you don't believe me." She seized Marth's and Lucina's wrists, to their surprise. "And more than that, he's my friend! If you've got a problem with that, you can submit a formal complaint to the Exalt of Ylisse." She briefly released Lucina's arm to raise a peace sign: "Later, bitches!" And she then led Lucina and Marth away from the bemused crowd.

Lucina blinked dumbly as she was dragged along by the young tactician. "…Gods, do you think that convinced them?"

"Seriously doubt it," Morgan said. From this close, Lucina could see that Morgan, despite her show of confidence earlier, was sweating and flush with color. "But they won't do anything. These people are too used to peace. They'd rather see things blow over… I hope." She cleared her throat. "J-Just don't look back. We should head to a different part of the city to be safe."

"Okay…"

…

Elsewhere in the crowd, Caeda frowned, crossing her arms and watching them go.

"G-Goodness," Emmeryn murmured, watching the crowd gradually, reluctantly disperse. She turned back to Brady and Cynthia, who wore equal looks of relief.

"That could've been bad," Cynthia said, letting out a breath. "Like really bad, for all of us."

"Can't believe we almost let that happen," muttered Brady. "Why'd we bring any Einherjar here, huh? Wasn't anybody usin' their brain?"

"We were so preoccupied with our victory," Emmeryn replied somberly. "And too eager to see Robin… This was an easy mistake to make, but—"

"But it worked out," Cynthia chimed in. "Okay? This wouldn't happen to practically any other Einherjar. None of them are as famous as Marth."

Brady buried his face in his hands. "Gawds, I'm glad we're leavin' tomorrow…"

"Yeah," Cynthia conceded. "Man, those villagers were quick to get riled up. Kinda easily-spooked if you ask me."

"It makes sense, though," Emmeryn answered. "Most if not all of them are rescues… The Annas brought them in from doomed timelines. I think… it's pretty understandable that they would be so defensive."

"That's crazy," Brady said. "The Annas do that?"

"According to a few strangers I spoke to, yes."

"They must know tragedy," said Cynthia. "These guys know what impermanence is." She looked down at the table. "They know that their world could be taken from them if they aren't careful…"

Brady grimaced. "…Yeah. And what with the old man threatenin' their Outrealm, which they thought was a safe haven, musta been an eye-opener."

"Long story short," Cynthia chuckled, "we definitely should've left the Einherjar outside."

Emmeryn frowned determinedly. "A-And deprive them of the festivities? That's…" She shook her head. "No, I think the risk was worth it. They deserve to have fun… just as much as the rest of us."

Reluctantly, Cynthia and Brady both agreed with her.

"Anyway…" Brady gestured vaguely. "I wonder what the deal is with this whole 'Springrealm' place. Before the Annas got involved, this musta been a barren Outrealm like the others we've seen." He narrowed his eyes. "Well, if 'before' is even a concept out here."

"Mm…" Cynthia rested her chin on her arms. "I wonder if this Outrealm is like the other ones so far? Who knows, this might be a parallel Archanea!" She grinned. "Oh, and this could be Macedon that we're in right now! If that's the case, then…" She looked around, before sighing. "Nah, no mountains around… and the architecture's too modern, too."

Emmeryn smiled. "You seem to know your history, Cynthia."

"Yup, she's real into that stuff," Brady muttered. "She used to be super annoyin' 'bout it, Aunt Emm."

"I sure was!" Cynthia sat up, grinning brightly. "Because it was fun! And you know what isn't fun?"

"Thinking about dying," said Brady and Cynthia at the same time, at which point they both chuckled.

Realizing they had made another of their dark jokes that they had promised to stop making, but not willing to bring attention to that, Emmeryn pressed her curiosity elsewhere. "Why history, though?"

"Well…" Cynthia propped her cheek on her fist, thoughtful. "Y'know how you think about where you are, and you've got a lingering thought in the back of your mind, like 'I can't wait for this and that,' or 'I'm sure things are gonna get better,' or whatever? Like, for now, we've all got the same thought in the back of our heads: 'I can't wait 'til we find Dad.'"

"Sure…"

"Well, back in our time, the future wasn't bright," Cynthia explained. "Even that saying, 'the future is bright,' was actually laughable. People would crack wise with that expression all the time. Dark humor, yeah, but it was all we could do." She twirled a finger through one of her pigtails. "The past, though, was bright. The sun, the food, the civilization. I always looked backwards to the way things were. I wanted to be there, I wanted to stop wondering who would die next, I wanted to live in a time where I didn't have to sneak the day's rations to my pegasus just so I wouldn't have to mercy-kill her, I wanted to stop missing Mom and Dad and Morgan…"

Emmeryn frowned curiously at the pegasus knight, wondering what she meant by that, but waited for Cynthia to finish. She didn't notice when Brady harshly tensed and began to avoid Cynthia's eye.

Cynthia shook her head. "But then my dream came true, didn't it? I got to reunite with everyone! I got to meet everyone I'd hoped to!" She beamed at Emmeryn. "I'd heard so many stories about you when I was growing up, and I had hoped so bad that I would be able to meet you, Aunt Emm."

Emmeryn raised her eyebrows, while Cynthia hastily started backpedaling: "I-I mean, that just kinda slipped out, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's fine," said Emmeryn pleasantly, resting her hand over Cynthia's. "Please, call me Aunt Emm. It's very flattering." That conversation seemed to be over, so she turned to Brady. "Well, what about you, Brady? What are your interests?"

"Music, obviously," said Brady.

They were quiet for a moment.

"…Is that all?"

"'Is that all,'" Brady scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, music ain't the most badass profession, but it's—"

"No, no, I just meant to ask, 'Is that all you have to say about it?'"

Brady blinked. "Uh… oh. Yeah, that makes more sense, comin' from you. Uh… I guess I just really wanna be a violinist, y'know? Like, just playin' the violin for a career, forever."

"That sounds lovely," said Emmeryn. "But… you seemed oddly defensive about it. Are you often criticized for that dream?"

Brady huffed, looking away. "Nah, not really. Least, not to my face. But c'mon, music? Fer a prince? Look at Luce. Savior of the world, inheritor of Falchion… now she's royalty. Meanwhile, her pissant little brother just wants ta make pretty sounds."

"That's absolutely absurd. Music is definitely a worthwhile profession, especially for you." Emmeryn met Brady's gaze with determination. "Picture this: Lucina, a princess, the picture of nobility, the backbone of her country. And you, a prince, the artistic contrast of tough and elegant. His strong look belies his tranquil talent. He looks the part of prince, but he can bring grown adults to tears with his art." She leaned closer to Brady, taking his hands in hers. "Pursue music, Brady. You're amazing at it, and everyone knows it. You deserve to pursue the dream you want, free of judgment, once we return home. You've more than earned it."

Cynthia and Brady were both flabbergasted.

After a moment of stunned silence, Cynthia was the first to regain her bearing at last, and still she had to clear her throat first. "That's… Wow. Never knew you could be so verbose, Aunt Emm."

"For real," Brady echoed.

Emmeryn blinked. "I—um… hm, you're right." She let go of Brady's hands and sat back. "I suppose… I was rather defensive, myself. Hearing you play last night was… rather… emotional. It brought feelings out of me that I haven't felt for… well…" She frowned. "For a very long time. To hear you doubt your skill made me… question my own emotions, I suppose."

Cynthia looked down. "Yeah, it was definitely emotional. The kind of music to really make someone… get carried away."

They were all quiet for a moment.

"A-Anyway…" Emmeryn shook her head clear. "Tell me more about your passion for music… Truly, I want to understand how you do it."

"Aunt Emm…" Brady couldn't fight a little grin. "…Yeah, okay. If you're sure."

Maribelle was surprised to find that the exact person she'd been looking for had conveniently delivered herself. Sumia was frowning and crossing her arms, asking, "Wow, what did I miss? There was something loud going on over here."

Lissa quickly responded, bursting with energy: "Morgan saved Lucina and Marth from a frothing mob in the most badass way possible!"

Sumia looked to Maribelle for clarification, to which the noble replied, "They seem to be distrustful of Einherjar."

"Oh, gotcha."

"Anyway, now that that's behind us," Lissa said, waving it away. "What have you been up to, Sumia? Glad to be back?"

"Very!" She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. "I was catching up with Cordelia all afternoon, but she wanted to share dinner with her family before the fireworks start at sunset. After I wished her luck on convincing Severa to join her, we split up. All that talk of dinner made me realize that I was hungry, too! For food and for the company of my girls, that is."

Maribelle took a step closer: "Ah, how are you, by the way? You and your family?"

Sumia hesitated. "Well… to be honest, I'm not really sure. Cynthia and I are only barely back on good terms, and I still haven't apologized to Morgan either for how distant I've been…"

"It'll work out, I know it," Lissa said, grinning. "Your family's strong. Really strong! You belong together."

"We belong…" A smile dawned on Sumia's face. "Yeah, we really do, don't we?"

"Your ties are strong indeed," said Maribelle. "Robin was especially adept at forging those ties; of course his family would obtain that same strength."

"Yeah!" Sumia pumped her fists. "Y'know, I baked a pie on the same day I met him, not knowing I'd be sharing it with him. But I did! That morning, I didn't even know him, and by evening I was sharing dessert with him! We are meant to be!" She hopped from foot to foot excitedly. "Ooh, I'm so pumped! I'm gonna eat the HECK out of my dinner tonight—And then, Robin's next!" She cast her pointer finger at the horizon: "Wait for us, my love! We'll be back together in no time!" She turned back to Lissa and Maribelle (both wearing bemused expressions). "Now, I'm off!" She started to sprint away—and got as far as one step before she froze. "Er, that is… do you know where my daughters are?"

Lissa pointed, and with a quick "Thanks," Sumia left (much more normally this time).

"She reads too many books," Lissa noted.

"Yes." Maribelle looked away. "Yes she does."

"…Wait!"

Again, Maribelle and Lissa turned to face Sumia.

"Where's the Captain?" Sumia asked. "I hoped Chrom would be with you."

"He is resting in our lodgings," Maribelle answered. "He has been there most of the day."

Sumia frowned. "I thought so! So he hasn't enjoyed any of the festivities, has he?"

"I suppose not…"

Sumia clasped her hands around Maribelle's. "Do you mind if I invite him to dinner with me and my kids? I think it would be good for him to get out of bed, plus I haven't really spoken to him much since I got back."

"I…"

Lissa nudged Maribelle with her elbow. "C'mon, Maribelle. He'd really like that."

Maribelle breathed evenly, shaking off her hesitation. "…Yes, of course. But!" She raised her finger. "Do not think to hog him during the fireworks!" She smiled slightly. "At that time, he is mine."

Sumia saluted. "You got it!" And at that, she finally left.

"This wasn't your fault."

Morgan had shot that remark at Lucina, alongside a conflicted grin, before she'd left the princess behind with Marth. Lucina hadn't had the chance to reply, and Marth seemed as dumbfounded as her. Both blue-haired royals numbly watched the tactician go.

"…But she's wrong," said Marth. "This was my fault."

Lucina's eyes locked onto him, shocked. "Wh-What? No, on the contrary! It was my own—"

"Lucina." Marth winced, but when he glanced down at her, he grew a little smile. "Even as the words left my mouth, I grew tired of them. Maybe… we've spent enough time trying to shoulder the full blame."

Lucina frowned thoughtfully. "I feel that it is my place to shoulder the blame, especially when I am truly at fault for incensing the mob. That seems to be an irresponsible line of thinking."

Marth chuckled. "Perhaps. But doesn't that tire you?"

"Would it matter if it did?" Lucina squeezed her hand around Falchion's hilt. "It is the role I was born in."

"But—please correct me if I'm mistaken—isn't it true that that isn't your role any longer?"

Lucina was taken aback, such that she had to laugh incredulously. "What? Of course it is."

Marth watched her for a moment, seemingly rolling his thoughts around, before he settled on, "Lucina, would you like to sit for a moment?"

"…As you wish."

Lucina and Marth turned toward the fringe of the city streets, where a scant number of park benches lay available. The two royals seated themselves there.

For a short time, they simply watched the crowd stroll by, took notice of the decorative balloons adorning each building, analyzed the festive outfits many of the locals wore. The ambience relaxed Lucina. She spotted a family of three—a father and a mother holding the hands of their young daughter, swinging the giggling child along cheerfully.

Lucina propped her elbow onto the arm of the bench, and rested her cheek in her palm, growing a fond, yet curious, smile. The family continued to walk, and the princess's eye followed them until they escaped her view. There was something about that little girl that struck Lucina as very—extremely, rather—

Familiar.

She sat up at rigid attention, Marth's meaning suddenly making itself known to her. "That isn't my role," she murmured.

Marth glanced at her briefly, then looked forward.

"Gods, I was even thinking about this earlier with regards to Brady…" Lucina's posture relaxed again, her expression settling into a frown. "We are not who we were. I may have been the Exalt in the future, but now, in this time, I am… no one." She shook her head, grimacing. "That little girl—she was just like me. Watching her, I was reminded suddenly of the last Harvest Festival I attended. Even… My mother and my father even held my hands in the same way. But that was in the future, in a time and place that now never happened, never existed. That little girl resembles… this time's Lucina… more than she does me."

Marth smiled slightly, knowingly.

"I am not the Exalt." Lucina slumped, again resting her cheek in her palm. "I am no one… Do the others from my time feel this same disconnect? Have they also realized this same sense of being an im—?"

Lucina gasped, going rigid for a second time and staring at Marth. Realization piled onto her.

"…An impostor," Marth finished quietly, still smiling. "Yes, I would imagine the thought has crossed their minds."

Lucina clenched her hands and rested them atop her lap, nearly trembling. "G-Gods…"

Marth glanced at her again. "I suppose you and I aren't very different after all, are we?"

Lucina shook her head. "I s-suppose not…"

Marth smiled at her for a moment longer, before he finally stood at last. "I apologize for my selfishness, Lucina. I adamantly refused your help earlier out of that same feeling. You heard what I said yesterday."

I am Marth! Prince Marth, descendent of Anri, the man who would become the legendary Hero-King! And Lucina—Lucina, champion from such a desolate world, twice the hero of anyone I'd ever met—deserves an ancestor she can be proud of.

"I guess, in some way, I didn't fully believe my own words," Marth resumed. "I have failed Caeda too much, I thought. I have lived too long and seen too much, I thought. Lucina, I will not lie to you: I am still in love with Caeda, as much as I have ever been. However, I have felt undeserving of her. Undeserving of even pursuing her."

Lucina bit her lip.

"But you and I are not so different." Marth's smile quirked. "You deserve an ancestor that sets a proper example. And Lucina, you are human. You are a person with a bright future ahead, one that you can set for yourself without heeding your false past. So too will I move forward: as a human."

Lucina shook her head, uncomprehending. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Marth, "that I will accept your advice." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "…I imagine the fireworks at sunset will be a lovely time to spend with her."

A smile dawned on Lucina's face as the Hero-King confidently strode away.

"Marth…"

Morgan scratched her head, frowning, as she noticed the pegasus knight's approach. Caeda's look was as serious as before, but this time Morgan's expression was equally hard. The tactician gestured vaguely behind herself; "I don't suppose you saw that whole show?"

"I did."

Morgan put her hands on her hips, sighing. "I'm not exactly my father. He was—is—really good at reading people. Always knows what to say. Still, I like to think I've inherited a bit of that." She met Caeda's eye. "The Einherjar aren't toys to me, Caeda."

Caeda frowned, crossing her arms.

"When you heard my whole spiel, you must've thought something like 'She's only doing that so she doesn't lose her precious Einherjar.' I can see all that skepticism on your face. But that's not true at all, Caeda. Truth be told, if I wanted them to be really secure, I'd put all of you back in your cards, stuff those cards in a little box, and keep that box in my pocket." Morgan smiled a bit wistfully. "Caeda… I really, really wish you and I could be friends like Lucina and Marth are. Thing is, I know that's never gonna happen. I'm really a sorry kind of person. I took advantage of your trappings as an Einherjar in a traumatizing way. And you know the worst part?" Morgan threw her hands up, laughing weakly. "I don't even regret it!"

Caeda's eyes narrowed.

"That knowledge was really valuable, and we had to get it one way or another. It was vicious, what I did, but it was necessary, and more importantly, it was a reminder of the kind of feeling that power inspires." Morgan crossed her arms, mirroring Caeda. "I was excited when I saw you holding that sword, Caeda. I was thinking stuff like, 'No way is she gonna do it,' and 'This is so neat!' All while you were crying and begging for me to stop you."

Caeda's knuckles were clenched white on her arms.

"Lemme tell you something, Caeda," continued Morgan. "I was disgusted. My reflex was morbid curiosity. When I had the power to make you murder yourself, my first thought was 'Let's try it out.' I was conflicted, too, like 'Should I let her go all the way, just to be absolutely sure?'…" Morgan shook her head. "It took conscious effort to remind myself that you're still human. You're an Einherjar, but you're still human. Your tears were real, your fear was real—you're real. I had to force myself to think in your shoes. That was when I realized what a monster I was being. I—I was overwhelmed. It was so scary, what I'd almost done to another person without even batting an eye." Morgan took a breath. "Back then, Caeda, I learned what power does to me. Because of you, I know how it messes with my head. So, thanks. I really owe you a lot. I want you to… have fun. To live a little, y'know? And with Marth here too, I just… Well, I wanted to make it up to you somehow." Morgan dropped her hands to her sides and inclined her head forward. "I know we can't be friends, but you still deserve a tactician you can trust. I'm going to be that tactician for you, I promise." She straightened her back and offered a hand for Caeda to shake, grinning. "I'm gonna try my best to impress you, just you wait. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Princess."

Caeda watched Morgan's hand, conflict in her expression. She slowly reached for that hand, clasping hers around Morgan's stalwartly. "…I suppose I'm counting on you, then," said Caeda, smiling a bit. "You enjoy your evening, as well. Tomorrow you'll have to put your money where your mouth is."

"You're right about that." Morgan glanced over her shoulder. "And would you look at who's coming?"

Caeda followed her eye, noticing, as Morgan was implying, that Marth was striding closer through the crowd. "Ah…"

"I'll leave the two of you alone," said the tactician with a wink. "See you, Caeda."

"Of course."

Morgan turned on her heel and left the princess behind, watching her draw closer to the Hero-King. Both wore smiles, already beginning to talk about whatever, as they walked away together.

Morgan turned her eyes forward, breathing in uncomfortably. "That went better than I expected…" She looked around. "Now what to do…? Oh." Sumia and Cynthia were walking together, both waving goodbyes to Brady and Emmeryn and walking in Morgan's direction. Morgan sighed with relief. "Gods, I hope that means dinner. Honestly, I shoulda just eaten that shark meat instead of throwing it away…"

She swallowed, trying to clear out the fearful lump from her throat. Composed, she approached her mother and sister, already forcing forward a cheerful expression for them.

"Knock, knock," came a cheerful, familiar voice, accompanied by actual knocks. Chrom's brow furrowed, and he swiveled his chair away from the desk to face the door.

"It's open," he said, and the door peeked slightly open. Sumia leaned through the gap she'd made, beaming at Chrom.

"You're awake! Cool!" She opened the door wide, spreading the hall's light through Chrom's dimly-lit bedroom. "I thought you were napping. What're you up to?"

"Oh." Chrom glanced back at the papers on his desk. "Just woke up from a nap and thought I'd review the Einherjar roster. A hundred names to keep track of, figured I might as well learn who all we have."

"Can it wait?" Sumia gestured over her shoulder. "Mind coming to dinner with me and my girls? I was just gonna have it in my room downstairs, since we have a table."

"Morgan and Cynthia?" Chrom smiled. "Yeah, that sounds great. Where's Maribelle?"

"She's still spending time with your sister. That reminds me, we've gotta finish dinner before the fireworks start! I don't wanna be at the end of your wife's parasol, haha."

"Fair enough." Wincing slightly, Chrom pushed himself out of his chair. "Let's get going, then! I'm starving."

It felt right.

Chrom couldn't fight an unwavering little grin as he divided his steak via fork and knife, listening to the clinking of Morgan, Cynthia, and Sumia doing the same at their sides of the square table. The waning sunlight drifting through Sumia's window enforced the peaceful aesthetic.

I'm glad we have this time to talk.

"So Morgan's been doing a good job?" Sumia asked. Smiling, she nudged the girl in question. "I'm so proud! Robin's job wasn't easy!"

Morgan exhaled. "I know, right?! I can't believe Dad could do all this stuff himself! I've only been able to stick to the actual tactical stuff. Had to delegate a lot of the logistical stuff."

"Still," said Chrom, swallowing a mouthful of steak, "there's no downplaying how well you've performed the past few days. Your results have mirrored Robin's. And," he added with a smile, "I'm glad we're friends now. I never would have gotten to know you so well otherwise."

Morgan flushed red and hunched over her food. "It, it wasn't that great…"

"And you too, Cynthia," Chrom resumed, turning his attention to the other future child. Cynthia was already flushed the same color in anticipation. "You've been exceptional. You've always been exceptional, truth be told, but our trip here in the Outrealms really opened my eyes to how capable you really are, in the field and out."

"Th-Thanks, I guess…"

"Well, what about you, Captain?" Sumia prodded. "You kinda skimmed over your fights with Eldigan and Ephraim and so on when you were catching me up yesterday, but everyone else filled me in on how cool you've been. You humble little man…"

Chrom frowned. "But it really wasn't anything," he began. "I was just—"

He paused, exchanging a glance with Morgan and Cynthia; all three were sprouting little grins as they slowly realized that they all had had the exact same reactions to praise. They quickly burst into laughter at themselves, joined by Sumia.

"Maybe…" Chrom said, settling down into a smile, "maybe we should just learn to take compliments, huh?"

Morgan and Cynthia nodded. "Yeah, you betcha."

"Anyway… I'm just really glad things have gone so smoothly." Sumia met Morgan's eye, then Cynthia's, then Chrom's. "I'm sure there were ups and downs, but it seems like things turned out okay."

"Ugh, why would you say that?" Cynthia said, and the table shared a chuckle.

Chrom patted above his injured hip. "I'll be willing to admit things turned out okay when this thing's gone."

"Ha! Fair, fair."

"How was last night, by the way?" Chrom asked. "Did you dance?"

"Yup! I was kinda passed around like a water canteen though." Sumia made the others laugh with that. "Like, I get why people would be interested to see me back, but pretty much everyone wanted to talk a bit. It was kinda nice to be the center of attention, though."

Chrom gestured between Morgan and Cynthia. "Did you get to dance with them, at least?"

"Nah," Morgan interjected. "That is, I was dancing with Nah." She smirked. "And some~body was dancing with Inigo."

Chrom brightened, while Cynthia was shrinking with embarrassment. "Oh, right! Inigo!" He grinned at Cynthia. "How are you two?"

"I—I mean, it's…" Cynthia's eyes flitted this way and that, as if looking for an escape from the situation. Meanwhile, Sumia and Morgan were both giggling.

"Did anything happen?" Chrom pried eagerly. "Don't tell me…"

"Did you kiss?" Morgan finished, and Cynthia flushed redder than ever.

"I—well—we did, but—"

Chrom beamed. "Wow, good for you two!"

"C'mon, guys, cut it out…" Cynthia brushed a lock of hair over her ear anxiously. "Things didn't go well after that."

"Oh. Hm." Chrom settled down a little bit, as did Morgan and Sumia. "Well, I'm sorry to hear about that. And I guess I shouldn't have pried so much, either."

Cynthia brushed a finger along her eye, wiping away the nascent semblance of a tear, and she smiled up at Chrom. The blush was diminishing from her expression when she thoughtlessly replied, "Thanks, Dad."

Immediately, the blush returned in full force, and Cynthia hid her face behind her hands. I didn't! I freaking didn't! Twice in one day?! I'm such a—such a… Overwhelming shame piled onto her.

Noticing the table had fallen quiet, Chrom chuckled a little bit, dismissing Cynthia's slip with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it, Cynthia." He laughed again.

The laugh was brief, however, as he soon realized he was the only one participating. Looking between Cynthia and Morgan, both wore plainly the same red-faced shame. They seemed… actually humiliated, the both of them. And Sumia was silent, seeming to have no reaction to Cynthia's meaningless slip of the tongue.

Chrom's eyes narrowed skeptically as he surveyed the quiet table. There was no reason for them to act so strangely, right? Cynthia could easily have played it off the same way Chrom tried to, but her mouth was fruitlessly sealed, no excuse available to her. "You can't… You two can't actually see me like a father, right? You just mean something father-figure-ish?"

Cynthia couldn't meet his eye. "…Chrom, I… well."

Sumia tensed, hands tightly gripping her utensils. Chrom furrowed his eyebrows at Cynthia's disappointing answer.

"Let me put it this way, Chrom," said Morgan quietly. Like Cynthia's, Morgan's eyes were downcast. "If she hadn't slipped up just then, I would've."

Don't you think the 'you have a thing for me' jokes are getting a bit old?

Yeah. It just feels… wrong, y'know? It's like—it's—gross.

Chrom scoffed, shaking his head. "Well, what about Robin?"

Morgan finally met his eye, fiercely. "In the interest of not keeping secrets, I'm gonna be totally honest, Captain." Determination wavering, she looked down once again. "Truth be told… what about him?"

Chrom had no idea what to say to that.

"Chrom, we both reunited with him last July," said Cynthia. "Me first, Morgan a couple weeks later. He died—he disappeared last December."

"We only knew him for a couple months, Captain, plus it was wartime, where we were always busy." Morgan was quivering. "Meanwhile, we've known you for more than a year, most of it peacetime… time to spend with each other, which we did, in Ylisstol. Like a family."

Cynthia started to speak, but her breath hitched. She then tried again with more success. "Back then, right after I joined… for a minute, juuuust a minute, we were a complete family again. My parents were back, and… so was my sister, even. Wh-When he left, I…" Cynthia hesitated. "Chrom, you've made it feel like… we're still a family. You've been so good to us. You're like the father I've lost… twice."

Chrom glanced at Sumia to judge her reaction. Like her daughters, she was trembling, wracked by the unfettered aggression of Morgan and Cynthia's words, but she still had no response.

And Chrom couldn't deny that all this was upsetting to him as well. They were striking a tender nerve, that same doubt in his mind: I haven't spent this much time with my own child. Little Lucina back in Ylisstol had spent most of her life so far without her father. This was humiliating, not just for Morgan and Cynthia.

Their claim highlighted his very failures as a parent.

"I am not your father," he snarled, with far more venom than he had intended. "Robin is your father, not me." Both Morgan and Cynthia visibly flinched, taken painfully aback; a little surprised himself at their horrified reactions, Chrom took a breath and eased his temper down. "…That came out harsher than I meant. I'm just saying that, once we find Robin, you two will have all the time in the world to bond with him." He rolled his thoughts around, composing them tactfully. "I'm… honored… that you value me that much, but we aren't family."

"Family transcends blood."

When Emmeryn had learned that phrase three years ago after awakening in an unforgiving new world, it had inspired hope in her, hope that she had thought would be well-suited to Cynthia's plight. Now, as Cynthia repeated those words to the quiet dinner table, Cynthia could only watch as color drained from Chrom's and Sumia's expressions, neither having a reprisal to her bleak assertion.

Seeing Chrom and Sumia both growing increasingly distraught, Morgan realized that her sister had found the line and crossed it. In a last-ditch attempt at peace, Morgan stood from the table and urged, "The, the f-fireworks are gonna start soon, aren't they? We need to get outside to watch them!" When nobody moved, she added sharply, "Now."

Halfheartedly, her sister, her mother, and not her father followed her directions and slowly mobilized to exit Sumia's bedroom.

Not a word passed between the four as they walked outside.

The Crossroad's streets had been crowded when the sun was high. Now, as the sun dipped under the horizon, the city was packed. Emmeryn and Brady counted themselves lucky for having found this spot at a table before the real crowds had arrived.

"Seems the fireworks are the main event," Emmeryn murmured, watching the masses stroll past.

"Lotta locals are headin' outside the city," Brady added gruffly. "Goin' for the hills just past the gates, I bet. Good spot to watch the fireworks from."

"I've noticed… Some Shepherds went that way as well."

"Mm."

A piercing whistle seared through the air, and all eyes turned upwards to experience the first firework of the night. A cascade of magical red light burst in the sky, painting the Crossroad the same color.

As the streets returned to darkness, Emmeryn found a smile had permanently affixed itself to her face. "My goodness, that… that takes me back."

Brady glanced at her. "Y'mean Ylisstol, right?"

"Mm-hm. The celebrations after Grima fell…" Emmeryn's eyes sparkled as she beheld a new pair of fireworks light up the sky. "Were those your first fireworks, too?"

"Uh-huh."

"How… interesting, don't you think?" Emmeryn glanced down at her nephew. "I'm surprised how much we have in common."

Brady frowned thoughtfully, still watching the sky. A pleased smile on her face, Emmeryn fell quiet and followed suit.

"…Aunt Emm, I feel bad." Brady was still watching the sky. "To be frank, I, uh… I never gave ya much thought in the future. I mean, I never knew you, y'know? None of us did. We'd heard stories, but between missin' you and missin' our parents or other people we'd lost, you just… lost the competition. Least, not outside o' talks like 'what should we do first when we get back to the past? Save the Exalt, that's what.' So, uh… sorry." He was twiddling his thumbs. "I'm like, flabbergasted. Spendin' all afternoon with ya really opened my eyes to what I missed out on."

A chill ran through Emmeryn at Brady's words. "That's, that's so kind."

"What can I say? I love ya, Aunt Emm."

Emmeryn glowed. "I love you too, Brady."

"Then…" Brady glanced at her, then away. Unless Emmeryn's eyes deceived her in the darkness, she thought she caught tears glistening in the boy's eyes. "We should, uh, hang out more. Y'think?"

"Yes, I do think. After all… neither of us has seen an Ylissean harvest festival, right?"

Brady chuckled. "Heheh, right."

Lissa pointed. "There he is! Right on time, too. See, now you don't have to kill anyone!"

"Ahaha." Maribelle patted the parasol lying in the grass next to her, smiling. "Shoot. I was almost looking forward to it, too."

Lissa laughed, and stood as Chrom drew closer. "Oi, Chrom! I've hogged your wife long enough, so I figured I'd find you guys a good spot on the hill and bail."

Chrom ran a hand through his hair, sighing with a little grin. "Thanks, sis. See you."

She gave him a double thumbs-up as she left.

Chrom rumbled with a low groan as he eased himself to sit next to Maribelle on the hill. Her brow furrowed with concern at his exertion, but he soon settled comfortably next to her. After exchanging a smile, husband and wife turned their eyes forward to the city.

"I'm glad you found this hill alright," said Maribelle.

"I was lucky I ran into Owain, honestly. He directed me here and told me, 'Please send Mom back here already, Dad's getting overly huggy.'"

"Hahaha." She curled her fingers through Chrom's. "What about Sumia and her kids?"

It didn't escape her that Chrom tensed slightly. "…They went their own way."

"Did something happen?"

"It's…" Chrom huffed impatiently. "Cynthia and Morgan were being weird. That's all it was, but for some reason it got to me." It's because they weren't joking this time.

"Hmm." Maribelle tilted her head. "Well… How was your day?"

"Mediocre at best, to be honest. Though I did get in a good nap."

"Well, that's something."

"How about you?" Chrom leaned his head toward Maribelle.

She reciprocated, resting her head against his. "I had fun, of course. Lissa brightens everything around her."

"I'm glad."

They sat in silence. A trio of multicolored fireworks popped over the city. Then more, and more.

Maribelle slid closer to Chrom, adjusting her head to rest on his shoulder. She released a long sigh.

Chrom watched the fireworks with a stony expression, his hand clutching hers tightly.

No words had passed between Cynthia, Morgan, and Sumia since they had split off from Chrom. Sumia's expression was still blank, numb. She hadn't spoken a word since dinner. While Morgan and Cynthia knew that this was their fault, they couldn't find it in themselves to break the silence.

An apology seemed inappropriate. Like it would be insincere.

So, Morgan was lucky to find a handy excuse to escape come their way. "Ah, that's Lucina!" She turned to her mother and sister. "I need to talk to her about something, okay?" Waving with very forced cheer, she headed away. "See you!"

When Morgan turned her back on Sumia and Cynthia, she clenched her teeth and forced her legs to move. If she looked back, she knew, she'd find looks of betrayal waiting for her.

Though Cynthia couldn't blame her sister. If she'd likewise had a good excuse, she would have left too. But, glancing up at her mother, Cynthia's heart cramped. She couldn't possibly abandon her now, not after they'd come so close to fixing everything…

"Hey, Mom," Cynthia said, tugging on Sumia's arm, "how about over there at that table? I think I see a free spot."

Sumia nodded slowly.

Seemed that most of the populace had abandoned the tables in favor of the hills just outside the city gates, which Cynthia counted herself lucky for. At the table where she seated herself across from her mother, they could comfortably talk. At last.

The first minutes were rigid. Not comfortable at all, actually. Again, Cynthia counted herself lucky, because the fireworks made for a good enough distraction to allow them to relax in silence over time.

The next few minutes, sure enough, were much better. They both sat comfortably, watching the sky. When a particular firework lit the sky an arcane blue, a little smile touched Sumia's lips at long last. Cynthia smiled herself when she noticed, and she decided to take the risk of ruining the moment by opening her mouth.

"I've missed you, Mom."

Sumia's eyes quickly flitted down to meet Cynthia's. Her smile faded.

"All this started because I told Dad that I was going to leave once the war was over," Cynthia resumed. "I thought… I mean, I'm Cynthia, but I'm not Cynthia, y'know? I figured, once the other me was born, I'd duck out. Me'n Morgan would travel the world together, and become like… legendary heroes. Of legend. That the legends would speak of…" She swallowed. "…Yeah. But um, I talked to Aunt—" She bit her tongue. "Right after we… first argued, eight months ago… I ran into Lady Emmeryn, and she convinced me not to leave. She told me, if I left, that'd be the end of it, you and me would just be on bad terms forever. But I could change your mind if I stayed."

Sumia frowned sadly.

"And, and then, when everyone was in Ylisstol's infirmary just after Chrom killed the fake Robin, I told Chrom about why we weren't speaking. When I said I regretted alienating you, Chrom asked me if I regretted saying what I said, or if I regretted what I said altogether? That is, he wanted to know if I really meant it when I told Dad I'd leave forever. Chrom said I didn't have to answer that at the time, but I'd need to figure it out for Dad's sake and yours." Cynthia pursed her lips briefly, collecting her next words. She continued uncertainly: "To be honest, Mom, I'm still not sure. At the time, I definitely meant it. My last words to Dad were honest. Your love isn't meant for me, it's meant for the other me. Of course Dad would say something like 'But there's enough love for both of you!' But I don't really think that's true, is it? Even if you did want me around, I still couldn't ever be your daughter. You weren't there for almost the first twenty years of my life. I'm just someone with the same name, and Dad's hair color… Oh, and your nose." She tapped her nose.

"My nose…?" Sumia thought, touching her nose as well. "Goodness, that is my nose, isn't it…"

"Eheheh." Cynthia rubbed her head sheepishly. "Yeah, I got Dad's hair, but I got your nose, your eyes, and your spunk! Or so people would tell me."

Sumia stared down at the table. A familiar empty feeling was rising to her chest as she remembered her three days of torment.

'My hair color to Morgan… and nothing to Cynthia.'

That's not true, is it.

"Anyway… I guess what I'm getting at is, I don't have to leave." Cynthia shook her head. "I just, I can't be your daughter, y'know? Because I'm not your daughter, not really."

Sumia frowned determinedly. "Oh, I see what this is!"

Cynthia furrowed her eyebrows. "…Huh?"

Sumia waggled her finger, smirking. "You just want to call me by my first name, don't you?"

Cynthia was lost.

"Well, tough luck, young lady! You're going to have to call me 'Mom' forever."

"I, I don't think you're understanding what I'm—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly well!" said Sumia. "What you don't understand is that, when I became a mommy, I became contractually obligated to love my twin girls infinitely. And if I have to divide infinity between all four of my two daughters, then, well, that's still infinity, isn't it?"

Cynthia laughed. "C'mon, Mom, you can't actually—"

"Nope! Sorry." Sumia dusted her hands off, leaned back, and crossed her arms. "Can't argue with the contract, sweetie. I have to love you forever."

"Mom—"

"Plus," Sumia continued, "by not talking to you for so long, I breached the contract myself. And you know what that means." She waggled her finger again. "That means I have to compensate by loving you twice as much now! And two times infinity is double infinity."

Cynthia hesitated. She saw what this was now. Sumia was phrasing it in a lighthearted way to raise the mood, but this was an apology.

Cynthia cleared her throat. "…Well, little did you know I also breached my contract." Mirroring Sumia, she waggled her finger and grinned. "By not talking to you for so long, I'm required to always keep in touch with you. Even if I ever do leave for whatever reason, I'm contractually beholden to sending you a letter every two months."

"Every week," Sumia countered.

"Every month," Cynthia conceded. "Let's be real, my letters are gonna be way more interesting if they cover thirty days instead of seven."

"Deal."

Sumia and Cynthia sealed their renewed contract with a handshake over the table.

"…And." Sumia took a breath, still trying to smile. Her hand still faintly clutched Cynthia's. "Remember, we'll need your father's signature to finalize this contract, y'know?"

Cynthia squeezed Sumia's hand. "You bet."

"This spot looks good." Morgan smoothed out her cloak and seated herself atop the hill; Lucina soon followed suit. "By the way—thanks for the help today, Luce."

The princess's brow crinkled. "But I didn't do anything. You spoke to Caeda yourself, and when I failed to sway Marth, you came to my rescue. You did all of the work, Morgan."

Morgan scratched her head. "Hmm… I guess I did, didn't I?" She raised her index finger, smiling. "But soft! Our efforts bore fruit!" She turned that finger forward to point elsewhere on the crowded hill. "Over yonder, I do spy the couple in question."

"Please don't speak that way," Lucina murmured tiredly, though she did follow Morgan's gaze. Indeed—there sat Marth and Caeda, both enraptured by the lightshow overhead. Though a feathery sensation sparked in her at the sight, she still couldn't help but feel… "I didn't contribute. Marth was convinced by your actions, not mine."

"If you had contributed, how much better would you feel?" Morgan asked.

"Pardon?"

"To be honest, Lucina, you're the self-destructive type. Even if you'd done all the work, you'd still look for a reason to not pat yourself on the back over this. Here, watch this." Morgan grinned and literally patted herself on the back. "Good job, Morgan! Eheheh." She put her hand down, sitting back again. "Look at it this way, Lucy: this was just my turn to be important! You get to be important all the time, so let me have this moment."

"Surely you don't think I am any more significant than you."

"Everyone does, Luce. It's kind of a part of you, just like denying your own merits is."

Lucina sighed. "I think you have more of your father in you than you think."

"You think so?" Morgan looked away from Lucina, toward the fireworks. A little grin on her face, she began to relax.

With another sigh, Lucina tried to sit back as well. Marth and Morgan both, she thought. They tell me I deny my own strengths, yet they do the same. Humility is no flaw. Perhaps they'd prefer I swell my head? She scoffed. I've been nothing but realistic this whole time…

"Say… Lucy?"

"Hm?" When Lucina turned to face the younger girl, she found that Morgan's smile had softened into something more… reluctant? More halfhearted. This was the smile of someone who didn't want to smile, further reinforced by Morgan's eyes still fixating on the sky instead of on the person she was speaking to.

"In the future we come from…" Morgan softly began. "Back then, was I important?"

Lucina's lips parted, then sealed, then opened again. "Wh, Where did that come from?"

Morgan didn't give a reply.

Lucina didn't need one. Watching Morgan's gentle expression, the peace in Morgan's eyes as she watched magic burst into the sky, Lucina found herself settling into a smile of her own. "…Yes, Morgan. You very much were."

"I'm glad."

Lucina briefly wondered if Morgan would push the subject. To Lucina's knowledge, Morgan had never asked for details on her past before, not even from her sister; surely she couldn't be satisfied with Lucina's nebulous answer?

As the moment drifted along, and it became clearer that Morgan would not pry further, Lucina found herself truly relaxing next to the tactician. She recalled that she'd wondered, once, if she would ever be able to do this again. She was glad to be able to answer that question affirmatively.

Someday, Lucina hoped she would be able to tell Morgan the full truth. Perhaps then the young tactician would understand why her amnesia was such a boon.

It had mostly been silence since the fireworks had started. Marth had anticipated his usual nerves and discomfort when he had first gone to speak to Caeda, but upon finding her as eager to meet as him, those trepidations faded during their earlier conversations. Now, they sat comfortably next to each other on the moon- and firework-lit hill just outside the city walls, each wearing a smile.

A hundred years, Marth mused, watching a solitary golden light rising from the city; well over the Crossroad's tallest buildings, the firework burst just like the rest, drawing entertained reactions from the endless crowd of viewers. Meanwhile, Marth only absently watched, his thoughts solely occupied by the pegasus rider sitting to his right. I haven't spoken to her in a century, yet this feeling is exactly as I remember it. He glanced at her, which also drew her eye to him; exchanging smiles, they turned back to the fireworks. It's as if I have only been gone for a bit, and I am finally back where I belong.

Caeda lay back in the grass, resting her head on her hands as she stared into the sky. "…Marth."

Marth looked at her.

"Would you watch the stars with me?"

Slowly, Marth laid back as well, clasping his hands over his chestplate. He let out a breath and relaxed.

The uncountable legions of stars were sprawled across the dark sky. Surely, they were beautiful, but the light of the fireworks were distracting to Marth. "Are you not enjoying the fireworks? The stars are always there, but the fireworks won't be."

"I know," said Caeda, smiling slightly. "I suppose one could also argue that the fireworks are more beautiful, despite their brevity. Or, perhaps because of it?"

Marth started to reply, but, eyebrows furrowing, he closed his mouth. She had a point that he was missing, he was certain of it.

"Infinity." Caeda murmured the word, feeling it glide past her lips. "Forever…"

"…Ah." Marth started to understand her meaning. "Indeed. The stars will always be there, forever, even after all the fireworks in the world have been spent." He shook his head. "How tragic."

"Is it?" Caeda was still smiling, if sadly. "These are the same stars we once gazed at. Our descendants' descendants, even millennia removed, still enjoy the same constellations we did in our day. Isn't it a bit comforting that, in a world full of change, some things are ever static?" She turned her head to face him.

As Marth stared into her eyes, a smile quirked at the edge of his mouth; then, prince and princess both returned to stargazing. "…I think it's a bit ironic, Caeda. I fear death. In our day, I would lose sleep for days on end in fear of losing my life in the war. Knowing that it had to be waged was all that would keep me moving forward, then. Yet, I also fear infinity. That thought, the thought of being here forever, even when all we know is gone, is… just as terrifying as being gone myself." He sighed deeply. "And, you know the saying… even stars burn out eventually."

"They certainly do." Caeda took a long breath—in, and out. "You know, Tiki yet lives in this era."

Marth glanced at her, surprised. "She—!" He hesitated. "…Yes, of course she does… She was young when we knew her, at already a thousand years old."

"Manaketes surely feel the same fear," Caeda murmured. "They are not too different from us. Tiki, at the least, understands for certain. After all…" She glanced at Marth again. "She lost you."

"She did…" Marth frowned, sorting through his tousled thoughts. "Not so different… We aren't, are we? From Tiki, from Lucina, from… people. Living people." He glanced at Caeda as well. "We are human, aren't we?"

Caeda winced. "…Morgan asserted the same thing when I spoke to her earlier."

"Morgan…" Marth shook his head, a smile rising. "She is a specimen, isn't she? She could have left me to the whims of that crowd. I think… when she speaks, she means what she says. And she said she is my friend."

Caeda grimaced.

"I was on the precipice of making a terrible decision," Marth resumed. "Just days ago, I…" plotted her death. He hadn't yet revealed that much to Caeda, so he let himself trail off. "…I had the wrong impression of Morgan. She is our friend. She is my friend. She swayed me to come here, to this hill, with you."

Caeda looked away, back to the stars. "My first impression of her was not amicable, either. When she…" pretended to try to murder me. She hadn't yet revealed that much to Marth, however, so she let herself trail off. "…She seems to have our best interests at heart, even in her seemingly most misguided decisions. Perhaps she does mean what she says. I think she deserves a chance at redemption."

"With that, Caeda, I wholeheartedly agree." Marth smiled at Caeda, and soon, she smiled back. "I believe we all deserve that chance."

"Marth…" Caeda rolled over to lay on her side, watching Marth intensely. "…I also fear death. Yes, and eternity as well. But…" She slid her hand across the grass, palm down, toward Marth, before stopping halfway. "…If nothing else, the stars always have each other."

Pondering her words, Marth rolled over to face her as well. His hand snaked forward, closing the distance and resting on top of Caeda's. "Yes… they do, don't they?"

Caeda smiled, and at last, a glistening tear born of happiness and fear traced down her cheek. It shone with the stars' reflection as it dripped onto the grass.

"Yes. They always will."

Morgan was hugging her knees to her chest, sitting alone at the top of a grassy hill, when Nah found her. "I hoped I'd find you here," the Manakete said, grinning, as she sat next to her friend. "Weren't you with Lucina, though?"

Morgan gestured away with her thumb. "Oh, Lucy left a few minutes ago to find Brady." She relaxed a bit, stretching her legs, and she then sat on her hands.

"Oh, okay." Nah crossed her legs. "What about Cynthia and your mother?"

"They're fine. I don't—I don't really wanna talk to them right now."

Surprised, Nah looked at Morgan, but Morgan's expression was neutral, still watching the fireworks. "…Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." Morgan sighed.

"Okay." Nah frowned, brushing her hair over her ear. "Did you have fun on our day off?"

"Yeah." Morgan smiled, finally, which relieved Nah, and led her to start watching the fireworks as well. "Lucina and I went on an adventure, actually! We, we went up to Marth and Caeda—separately I mean—and we were like, 'H-Hey! You two should be together!' And… and so, L-Lucina and Marth, they ended up…" Morgan cleared her throat. "They ended up in tr-trouble with a crowd, because, because they don't like Einherjar, so I…"

Nah glanced at Morgan, curious about her issues speaking. To her shock, tears were streaming from Morgan's eyes as she continued her attempt at telling the story with a smile. Feeling Nah's eyes on her, Morgan clumsily wiped her face on her sleeve, not stopping.

"So I… ah… I tell off the c-crowd, and I'm like, the sickest badass while I do it, um—so, then, I convince Marth and Caeda!" She pumped a fist, trying in vain to uphold a look of cheer. "I—I was—I did—a r-really good job today!" She met Nah's eyes at last.

Nah frowned sadly. There was a pleading look to Morgan's gaze.

"I, I did, right?" Morgan sniffed, wiping her eyes again; her façade was diminishing. "Haven't I—done a g-good job, Nah?!"

"You sure have."

Nah's words broke Morgan. Her head fell onto Nah's lap and she began to cry uninhibited.

"I'm, I'm so s-sorry," Morgan gasped. "This is… your s-special day an' all, special day with your p-parents, and I'm making it all about me…!"

"It's all right." Nah smiled, letting Morgan cry. "I'm sure I've annoyed you with all my whining these last few days, too."

Morgan laughed shakily. "Y-Yeah, I guess…"

"You still don't want to talk about it?"

"N-No…" Morgan clutched feebly at Nah's dress. "I just, I just r-really feel like crying…"

"That works too." Nah stroked Morgan's hair comfortingly. "Just so you know, if you ever do want to talk about it, we'll still be best friends then."

Morgan felt emotion swell in her, and she couldn't manage a response, instead bursting into fresh tears. Nah looked up into the sky, at the last fireworks of the evening, and allowed Morgan to let it all go.

When the fireworks came to an end at last, drawing deafening applause from the countless sightseers, the events of that day's festivities finally came to a close. Locals and Shepherds alike made their ways to their respective dwellings, all with hope in their hearts for an even brighter tomorrow.

…

"…The headcount came back?" Chrom asked. He squinted through the morning sunlight, as if assuring himself that the Outrealm Gate hadn't disappeared from its position a few meters away, before turning back to his tactician.

At his left side, Morgan nodded. "All the Einherjar who stayed outside the city are still filtering in, and I'm having Lyn count 'em up, but the rest of the Shepherds are accounted for. Convoy checks out, too." She gave a thumbs-up. "Good to go, Captain!"

"Good." Chrom turned instead to the three Annas at his right. "So—guess that means we're back at it, then. Where to?"

Right Anna frowned, tapping her chin. "Bad news, Chrom. This Outrealm is uncharted territory. Aside from Robin and Algol, we don't know of anyone who's gone here and lived to talk about it."

Chrom blinked. "Algol?"

Left Anna grinned. "Yeah, the one and only. Y'see, we weren't sure how he got his hands on all the Einherjar's special weapons, like Siegmund and Falchion and stuff, but Marth's story made the pieces fall together." She waggled her finger. "Shepherds, you guys are headed to a little Outrealm we like to call Infinite Regalia."

"We don't know what to expect from it," said Right Anna. "But if Algol could get through it with his Einherjar, and Robin could do it alone, then I believe in the Shepherds." She and Left Anna turned to the third Anna. "Good luck, Shepherd! We wrote down directions for you, so you shouldn't have any trouble navigating!"

Anna saluted. "I won't let you down, sisters!"

Left and Right Anna exchanged a look. "Yeah, sounds good." They then both faced the Gate, grinning and waving. "Well, we've gotta part ways with you here! See y'all around!" They winked in unison. "And good luck!"

Both Annas stepped into the Outrealm Gate, vanishing from sight.

Chrom took a breath. "…Well, alright, then. Infinite Regalia. We can do this." Reaching down, he drew Falchion from its place on his hip. "Morgan, with me. We'll go through first."

Morgan nodded, seizing a tome from within her robes. "I've got your back."

Bracing himself, Chrom held Falchion level as he walked through the Gate, followed shortly by his trusted tactician.

Next time:

Chapter 16 – Infinite Regalia

.

The darkness wasn't comforting. Moonlight streamed through their window; both Morgan and Sumia were fast asleep in their own beds, but rest evaded Cynthia.

I'm not dumb. I can see the pattern. Cynthia snuggled under her blankets. Something happens. Mom and I are awkward. One of us apologizes; we decide to make up, but ONLY since we can put off talking 'for real' until we find Dad. Then something else happens, and we're awkward again, and one of us apologizes… yadda yadda. She took a breath. Cycling between arguing and making up. One of these days, one of those is gonna stick. And I bet that if we find Robin, that'll be the day. She pulled the blanket over her head. We can't keep dodging this conversation forever…

.

Author's notes:

"If it takes him 8 months to update, that update BETTER be 21,000 words, grumble grumble."

It's easy to blame school and vacation and stuff for the delay, but I wrote almost this entire chapter in the last month or so, which has undoubtedly been the busiest time of the last 8 months, so I can't blame external factors at all. Even on days I could easily have decided "nah I'm too busy today," I could always find time to write for an hour or so.

The actual problem was a combination of

-not wanting to plan out this chapter (I knew a lot had to happen but none of it was the immediately-gratifying kind of stuff)

-getting distracted by other stories (3 other stories stole my attention in the meantime, and of them I only ended up finishing The Little Things (please check it out I'm very proud of it))

Shouldn't face the same kind of problems moving forward, but then again, I bet I told myself the same thing 8 months ago, huh? If you're having similar problems with delays in your own work, you might want to look inwardly. If you "can't find time," maybe it's just a motivation thing. And hey, if you ever want to talk about it writer to writer, PM me anytime, I don't care who you are.

See you when I finish Chapter 16 in a year! (kappa)