An impossible battle and a race against time.

Corrin wiped the back of her hand against her forehead. It came away drenched in sweat. She snapped it out from her, sending tiny wet droplets of perspiration soaring in every direction. For the first time in hours, she was motionless. Her body ached. Around her, the army groaned and then stuttered to a halt. It had been a long day.

The longest day ever, Corrin bemoaned.

She, alongside the rest of the army, crouched in a brush on an overlook, just before the Bottomless Canyon. From her vantage point, she could see the entire enemy line stretching endlessly in every direction.

"Our odds are grim," Gunter huffed beside her. He removed a scope from his eye and then passed it to her. Holding it flush against her right eye, she looked out over the battlefield.

Through the scope, she immediately caught sight of Iago positioned at the rear. He rubbed at his wrists as he barked orders at the nearest troops, spittle flying from his mouth. With every shrieking command, his head bobbed and the monstrous half-mask he wore caught the sunlight in flashes of blinding gold like the beacon of a lighthouse. The Canyon was only a few feet behind him.

I hope he trips over that horrible cape and falls down into it. Even if he ends up in Valla with us, it'll be worth it to see those spindly little legs go flying.

Corrin directed the scope out over the rest of the troops, dreading, not for the first time, the inevitable pushback from the others when she told them they'd have to leap into the abyss. If anyone else but Lilith had told her to take a swan dive off a rickety bridge into a canyon so deep that no one had ever seen the bottom of it, she would have called them mad.

But Lilith has yet to be wrong.

There were hundreds, if not thousands, of troops spanning the dirt in tight ranks. They displayed their colors proudly, with streaming banners emblazoned with the Nohrian emblem cresting throughout the mass. Their dark armor gleamed with wicked intent, polished to the point of vanity. In comparison, her army was pitiful and downtrodden. Their armor was scuffed, dented, or broken. Half of them were grievously wounded or on their way to the afterlife. The other half were dead on their feet, swaying with exhaustion and delirium. The healers did what they could to keep everyone energized, but there was only so much to be done. The lava fields had been tough on them all, searing fatigue into their flesh.

Lowering the scope, she backed away from the brush. She walked to where the others were gathered farther down the hill. Their eyes were hot on her skin as she approached.

"How's it look?" Silas asked. Dirt and dust colored the parts of his face that his helmet didn't cover. Beneath the grime, his face was flushed. His eyes kept darting past her face to the valley below. He'd confessed to her that he was nervous to face the army he'd once been so beholden to, but he'd kept it well hidden until now.

"Not great," she said and then turned to Camilla, joking, "You Nohrians really know how to roll out the welcome wagon."

Regret welled as Camilla scowled at her ill-thought joke, but the older woman said nothing. She stood slumped over her ax. Her wyvern curled on the ground behind her, its tail encircling her feet. Every so often, Camilla's eyelids flickered every so often as if she were about to take a nap. She had barely spoken two words since the bounty had been announced for Leo's head. Now, her worry seemed to have manifested into a sleepy malaise.

Overhead, the sky diluted as night melted into day. Burning shadows crept across the fragmented patchwork of midmorning blue and midnight black. Soon, it would be one solid shade and then night and day would bleed once more until salmon hued morning rose in Nohr and amethyst twilight sank over Hoshido. Documentation of the event suggested it took five hours. Lilith said it only took three.

Three hours to make it through the entire Nohrian army.

"Our only option is a charge, straight through the middle," she announced. "Fight as little as possible. Our objective is the bridge over the canyon."

"And once we get to it?" Ryoma questioned. His arms were crossed. He'd joined them only a few hours prior, alongside Hinoka, and he'd been a bit of a thorn in her side ever since. He questioned her every directive and suggested courses of action that were often better, but undermined her authority and command.

"Jump," she said.

"You can't be serious," Scarlet scoffed. Corrin had only just met the Chevois warrior, but she liked her a great deal, even in spite of her churlish comments. She was sincere and steadfastly devout to the plight of her people.

The world needs more people like her.

"I am," she said. Then, she turned from the group, heading back to the brush atop the hill, scope in hand. When she had reached the position and crouched in the brush, Hinoka called up to her, "Most of us won't even make it that far."

I know, Corrin thought but didn't say. She lifted the scope to her eye, squinting to find Iago's exact position. Mired daylight and fog festered across the land, complicating her search. Finally, she found him amid a gathering of knights, all generals judging by the pageantry of their armor. His head bobbed, but his serpentine features were twisted into a smirk. His bejeweled fingers stroked the ebony cover of a heavy tome. The binding seemed familiar, but she couldn't place it beyond a gnawing sense of recognition.

She cast the scope out over the small group, searching for the speaker, and then, she found him. She shouldn't have been surprised because it only made sense that he'd be here to oppose and break her. She'd smeared the good name of his country, the only thing he'd ever held dear. It was his duty and his pride to shatter her in the pursuit of honor and glory. She shouldn't have been surprised, but she was.

Did you really expect him to have a change of heart? she asked herself, knowing that she'd never thought as much, but had certainly hoped.

Xander stood tall and resolute above the others. He held his helmet in one hand and pointed with the other. His horse was nowhere to be seen and, though the weight of its absence was not lost on her, she could only think of how he'd let Elise name it and how Elise had dubbed it Lantana because she thought he needed more pretty things in his life and, if he couldn't find any flowers, he could at least have one Lantana.

Elise had been nothing but raw nerves and uncapped worry since the news of Leo's death sentence broke. She'd lost a considerable amount of weight and all her good spirits. Corrin did her best to make the young girl smile, bringing her pretty flowers and spending a considerable amount of time braiding her hair, but there was no consoling something so heinous. Corrin knew that her misery was made all the more poignant because she had been so shielded and protected against misery and turmoil by the very man who was now causing so much of it.

Pushing thoughts of Elise aside, Corrin tried to read Xander's lips, but the angle was all wrong and the endeavor proved fruitless. Siegfried pulsated with ruinous, bleeding light from his hip. She counted the seconds between its blinks as her free hand grazed Yato, seeking the reassurance of its worn hilt. She'd trained and sparred with him on and off throughout the years of her imprisonment, but she'd never bested him. And, in all those sessions, he hadn't even needed Siegfried to send her sprawling.

I'm stronger now, she thought, but knew that she might still fall short. She had to be calm, composed, and completely oblivious to the raging upheaval in her heart, but levelheadedness had never been her forte.

She watched Xander for a moment more and then directed the scope to Iago again. He stared at her and then, just as she thought, There's no way he can see me, the brush began to smolder around her as the tang of magic soured the air. She leapt away as it burst into flames. She clambered to her feet and then she was running back to the others, screaming, "We have to move! Now!"

"Ready the troops!" Ryoma shouted, raising Raijinto above his head. Corrin fell into formation beside her brother. She drew Yato, brandishing it before her. She closed her eyes and then held her breath as the wind buzzed with the sound of promises made, mantras recited, and prayers offered up to merciful gods. It grounded her nerves and was pretty to the ear, but it did nothing to quiet the mayhem of anxiety and raw emotion coursing through her veins at the prospect of death, destruction, and Xander. She had no promises to make, no mantra to recite, and no gods to pray to. Nearby, she heard Silas mutter a prayer for her health and wellbeing. The fell inferno died on the hillside before her, leaving the ground black with soot. The enemy lay beyond it.

Corrin exhaled and then she shouted the command to attack. Her hair blew across face as the army surged forward. Then, she was breaking free of the formation, hurtling towards the Nohrian line. The cavalry rushed ahead of her. She saw the first blows exchanged. Then, she was among them.

Three Nohrians attacked her at once. She swung at the first, caught him in the arm. He shrieked, then fell down. She dodged, kicked out, managed to buckle the second's legs. She moved forward. The third followed.

Sweat dripped into her eyes. Her vision blurred. She saw only streaks of color. She twisted out of the way of a broad ax. She caught a boot to the ribs. Something cracked. Bile shot into her mouth. She spat into the dirt, adjusted her stance, aimed for the head. It didn't connect, barely avoided the next attack. She heard the sound of slicing wind, watched the Nohrian collapse, saw an arrow sprouted between helmet and mantle. Her chest burned. She smelled magnolias. The pain vanished. Elise was nearby. Corrin didn't thank her. She moved forward.

The air by her ear sizzled. She dove to the ground. Nosferatu erupted behind her. She twisted to her feet. Yato skewered the sorcerer. She yanked the blade free. The mage fell. She moved forward. A berserker came at her. She dodged. Yato severed the berserker's arm. Her mouth tasted like dirt. Her eyes stung from the sweat. She moved forward.

She was rushed again. There were five this time. She dodged. She couldn't attack. She parried. She deflected. Her legs were leaden. The tip of a spear found purchase in her shoulder. She lurched away. Blood gushed. She dodged the arc of a sword. The dragonstone lying against the hollow of her throat pulsated in time with her heart beat. The sensation spread. Then, she heard the thunder of wings overhead.

Corrin threw her arm up. A sky knight snatched it, grabbing her by the forearm. The momentum carried her onto the back of the Pegasus. It nearly tore her shoulder from her socket. She slumped forward. Feathery touch blossomed across her back, Sakura's doing.

From the sky, Corrin could see only fire and mist and ruin and fallen soldiers hiding the turgid ground from sight. Magic wavered in the air around her, stinging her nose and turning her stomach.

Corrin nudged the sky knight, thanking them in heavily accented Hoshidian. They dipped low, farther behind enemy lines. Corrin leapt and then rolled into the landing. Her jaw clicked together as her body hit the ground. Pain radiated through her spine and then down into her knees. She moved forward.

An infantryman engaged her. Their sword blazed past her ear. Then, the air seared. Gnarled roots burst through the ground, narrowly missing Corrin's foot. Her heart leapt into her throat. She stumbled back. Yato suddenly seemed inadequate.

Her thoughts, once empty impulses of motion and action, became a knot of frenzied rationalizations.

Iago's stolen Brynhildr. That's why it looked familiar. Leo's dead. He's dead…dead…dead…

The infantryman swung at her head. She reared back too late. The blade ripped through the skin on her cheek. Blood oozed. She could taste it, oily and slick.

Corrin charged. She feinted. She ducked close. Yato ripped through the infantryman's side. It scoured rib. She moved forward.

Brynhildr tore into a new victim. Fresh screams. Wet sobs. Her head throbbed. The battlefield pulsated. Colors became too artificial. They burned her eyes.

Dual cavaliers rushed her. She leapt out of their paths. They didn't come back at her. All around her was the sound suctioning roots and dying shrieks.

A lancer lunged. She spun away. They swung overhead. She rolled under them. She hit the dirt hard. Searing agony ignited her hip. The pain kept her down a moment longer. A shadow blocked out the sun. The lancer shrieked. Then, they lay at eye-level with her. Their eyes were listless through the slits in their helmet. Blood gushed from their mouth, staining the fleshy pink of their lips scarlet to match the Nohrian arms they bore. Violet light pulsated across the dying lancer's face.

"Corrin."

It hurt to hear. She scrambled to her feet. He took off his helmet, casting it aside into the fray. The world blurred around him. Despair caught in her throat. Memory smoldered across her chest. Adrenaline stamped it out. Numb cascaded through her veins. His mouth moved but she couldn't hear him, wouldn't have listened him even if she had. She raised Yato.

She charged. He sidestepped. She lashed out, caught him across the bicep, didn't puncture his armor. Yato roared through the air. Siegfried swung up to meet it. The blow sent her staggering. She steadied her stance, grit her teeth, flew at him in a flurry of slashes and stabs. None connected. He attacked, caught the inside of her wrist, bent it back, sent Yato into the dirt. She leapt towards it. He kicked it away. He didn't attack. He lowered Siegfried. He held up his free hand, spread it flat in the air. She curled her fingers around the dragonstone. Animal instinct swelled from her grip. Before it could take her, she saw an archer line up a shot between her eyes. She dropped to the ground. Magic sizzled. Roots burst from the earth. The archer screamed. The roots tightened, showering her in a fine mist of blood. Then, Brynhildr returned to the earth.

A hand swam into her vision, sheathed in wrought steel. She didn't take it. She stood and then stared at the man who had offered it. He stared back. He seemed so much older than she remembered. She moved out of sheer love and relief. She threw her arms around him as tight as she could. The fine metal of her armor scuffed against the thick spires and juts of his. He patted her back once and then his hand hovered between her shoulder blades in a strange, hug.

When the fog of battle cleared and she realized the absurdity of her behavior, she pulled away. He smirked at her. She glared in return.

"I thought you were dead," she said.

"I'm a hard man to kill," Leo said, moving to stand beside his brother.

Corrin rolled her eyes. Then, she demanded, "What the hell is going on?"

Xander said nothing, refused to meet her eye. He shoved Yato towards her. She snatched it away, immediately brandishing it. Leo scowled at her.

"I'll explain later," he said. "It's quite a story."

She stared at the two of them and then announced, "I hope you brought reinforcements."

Leo rolled his eyes and then huffed, "Unlike you, we planned our treason."

When it happened, Leo was not there. In fact, he was as far away as he could have possibly been. He had ridden with Xander to the back of the formation to rally the troops for the last forward push. The fighting had been relegated to the cliffs along the canyon's edge. They were greeted by their retainers, waving them closer. Laslow motioned to Corrin, still visible above the horde of Faceless, and said, "Hell of a trick!"

And it was a hell of a trick. The shock of Corrin shedding her human form had nearly stopped his heart. There had been rumors of course, but Leo hadn't believed them. He'd had more pressing matters to worry about than tall tales. There had been the whole messy business of being a wanted fugitive and organizing a rebellion simultaneously, after all. He'd stayed awake too many nights fearing assassination, but there had never even been an attempt. Xander had made sure of that. Xander had made sure of so much.

Beside him, Xander relayed the logistics of the final leg of the battle against Iago's Faceless and the remaining soldiers. Leo barely listened. He thought of Corrin.

No one in a millennium has had blood so potent. Both the Dusk and Dawn Dragons' blessings have been diluted to the point of impotence in the royal lines. It's simply impossible that she be able to—

A scream rang out, shrill and inhuman.

Leo slammed his hands over his ears and then spun towards the earsplitting sound. In the distance, Corrin, still in her dragon form, stood frozen above the masses, eyeless head stiff and pointed to the sky. Leo's jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were on the verge of shattering. His thoughts were scrambled inside his skull. It was the kind of sound that could drive a man insane. It persisted far too long. Then, Corrin's draconic form shrank until it disappeared. The screeching ceased.

He was the first to move, spurring his steed forward. He snapped the reins to the tune of thundering hooves in pursuit. The land flew past, a blur of grayscale and muted flashes from the polished armor of the dead. His only thought was faster, faster, faster.

Skidding to a halt, Leo dismounted in a single, fluid motion. His boots sank into the bloody dirt. Elise stood nearby. It was the first time he'd seen her in months. Arthur and Effie were on either side of her. They fought off the Faceless that came near. Elise did not move. She stood still, rod clenched between white knuckles. His fingers wrapped around her shoulder and then he yanked her backwards demanding, "What happened?"

The movement broke her. She doubled over, collapsing against his chest. Tears streamed from her eyes as she wept, "It's Corrin! Her leg! There's poison! We can't… we can't heal her!"

"How bad?" he asked. The terror didn't creep into his voice but it kept his joints tight. His sweat was blistering cold.

His sister didn't answer, couldn't answer as her sobs overtook her voice. Effie stepped towards them. Fresh blood dotted her armor and dripped from the tip of her lance.

"I could see bone," Effie said. "And a lot of it."

Elise began to tremble. Leo released her and then she fell to her knees, keening and rocking in the dirt. He thought of the feel of Corrin's arms knit tight around him, hugging him in the middle of a damned battle, absolving him of his sins against her in a single, stupid motion.

I've only just got her back.

Leo retrieved Brynhildr from his mount. The blood thrumming in his head drowned out the sound of his sister's choked sobs. He stepped past Elise and her retainers.

Faceless rushed at him, but Brynhildr erupted beneath them. They turned into smoke. Leo could only move and destroy.

Iago had a wyrmslayer.

Leo had seen it strapped across the sorcerer's back, but he hadn't questioned it beyond his initial notice. He'd been too worried about maintaining his disguise as a lowly Nohrian grunt. He hadn't considered that Iago had put stock in the rumors of Corrin's ability and had armed himself with the one weapon that could tear through plated scales in a single strike.

And poisoned it for good measure.

But maybe it wasn't just Iago's plan. Maybe his father had known of their treachery, of their plans of civil war and revolt, but had sent the army anyway. Maybe Iago's only instructions had been to kill Corrin. Maybe his father had permitted their treason so they would watch her die.

Leo screamed, directing Brynhildr outward. The incantation came without thought and then dozens of Faceless disappeared, taken by the roots. His fingers trembled. He laid them flat against Brynhildr's cover. He inhaled. He threw his arm out, opened the tome with a flick of his wrist.

Again.

The roots shot up, punching through the monsters' legs and chests until they vanished. His vision blurred. He didn't stumble. He shook his head to right his vision. Drops of sweat flew from his white-gold hair. A hand pulled him back.

"You'll kill yourself!"

Niles.

He shrugged off Niles' hand. The ache in his blood radiated. He didn't stop. He thought of Corrin. Pictured her ashen face. Her severed leg. Her weakening breaths.

My fault. I should have known.

Distracted, a Faceless managed to attack him, denting the armor on his forearm. A blast of thunder and then the monster fell away.

"Odin Dark has your back!"

Leo shook the fog from his head. Brynhildr destroyed another row of Faceless. His hands wavered. The tome drank his strength. He didn't care. Corrin was dying. She'd never know he was sorry. Maybe she was already dead.

My fault.

"Lord Leo!"

A Faceless drove a shackled claw into Leo's stomach. He stumbled backwards. His lungs burned. His throat was raw. Niles grunted. An arrow bloomed from the Faceless' head. It disintegrated.

Leo continued to tear through the Faceless. Both his retainers cried for him to stop. He wouldn't stop. Iago had to die first. His veins shone through his skin. Brynhildr was draining him dry. It ate his mortality. He drew upon more of its power. Too much of its power. More power required more strength. More sacrifice.

The rest of the army caught up. They pushed the Faceless back. More Faceless came, but not as many. Iago was tiring. Leo had tunnel vision.

Xander rushed past Leo. Siegfried blazed. A dozen Faceless evaporated in the crimson light. Jealously tinged Leo's breath. Leo flexed his fingers. Summoned Brynhildr. A wall of roots burst in front of his brother.

He destroyed nearly a third of the attacking Faceless. His vision turned black. He swayed in place. He managed not to fall. He tasted rust. He spit. Blood stained the dirt. Xander shouted something. Leo couldn't hear. His ears rumbled. He raised his hand. He began the incantation.

A wyvern screeched. The rider swooped low. He stumbled out of the way. He threw an arm up over his eyes. Bits of dust and rock pelted his eyes. The wind from its wings pushed Brynhildr from his palm. The tome slammed shut as it fell. He bent to retrieve it. His fingers brushed the leather binding. The edge of an ax swung down. It stopped millimeters from his skin. His head snapped up. He met his sister's burning eyes. Her leg swung from the stirrup to kick him square in the chest. He fell ungracefully onto the ground. The swell of movement dotted his vision with blossoms of black. He gripped his head, fingers burrowing against his temples in an attempt to relieve the pressure. When the darkness cleared, both Brynhildr and his sister were gone.

"Damnit Camilla!" Leo cursed after her, scrambling to his feet. Odin and Niles rushed to his side and then poked and prodded for broken bones. He batted them away, scowling at their concern.

Ahead of them, Iago fought off Xander and the others. He managed to keep them at bay by replicating himself until it was nearly impossible to discern which was the real Iago. In the mist and the shadow, the clones were identical in every way. The Faceless still persisted. With the focus on Iago, less Faceless were killed. More continued to form, attacking from all sides.

Lurching forward, Leo ripped his sword free from the scabbard on his waist. It felt abnormally heavy in his grasp. He hardly ever trained with it. Odin and Niles flanked him. They moved as a unit. Each time he engaged one of the monsters, it was dead in seconds, though rarely did he deal the killing blow. The sword certainly wasn't his strong suit. With his retainer's help, he quickly reached his brother's side.

"Leo," Xander grunted as he decapitated an Iago replica. "Can you tell?"

Leo could. He had spent hours studying the very magic that Iago now utilized. Imperceptible to the untrained eye, the real Iago moved a split second faster than his counterparts. When he waved his arm to raise more Faceless, his clones lagged behind. The true Iago stood just to their right and tried his best to hide that he was watching them, but Leo pointed ahead and Xander moved without question.

The Iagos cackled at the misdirection and then sidestepped Leo's attack. Leo swung again. A bolt of Nosferatu fragmented the ground before him. He tripped over the uneven juts, falling to his knees. His retainers rushed to his aid, lifting him to his feet within seconds, but the damage had been done.

"Best call big brother back!" the Iagos trilled.

Leo's movements were lethargic and haphazard. His knees groaned from their kiss against the hard ground. His blows traced wildly off target.

I'd be dead if Camilla hadn't taken Brynhildr, Leo thought. Another use and I'd be catatonic.

The adrenaline in his veins was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Beside him, Niles nocked an arrow. Leo screamed, "I have this!"

Niles didn't lower his bow, but he didn't fire either.

"Ah, the arrogance of youth," Iago remarked, "I don't—"

Blood spurted across Leo's face as a sword slashed into Iago's neck with a wet thwack. Then, the sorcerer's grinning head went flying off into the distance. Retching, Leo dropped his blade. He wiped at his stained skin with both hands. Iago's headless body slumped to the ground. His clones disappeared. In the sorcerer's place stood a silver-haired knight with an awful cowlick and a good-natured smile.

"Sorry about that," he said. "You looked like you needed help."

Recognizing the knight from among Xander's ranks did little to stop Leo from considering turning his sword on Silas as his adrenaline crashed. Silas continued to smile at him. Leo sighed and then turned away. The Faceless had stopped rising. The rest were quickly being done away with.

Camilla landed beside Leo. She held Brynhildr out to him. He snatched it from her and then cradled it to his chest, glaring. She pursed her lips. It was the first time they had interacted in over a year.

"We have to go!" a man shouted. Leo frowned.

The man, who Leo recognized as Corrin's butler, Jakob, rushed towards the bridge, urging everyone to follow. Jakob made it onto the first plank on the bridge when Laslow called, "Hold! Where are we to go?"

"Into the canyon!" Jakob responded huffily. "And quickly, the skies are almost completely switched."

Leo exchanged a dumbfounded expression with Niles. Laslow opened his mouth to protest but didn't manage to get a word out as the earth began to rumble. The swordsman was thrown unceremoniously to the ground. As the tremors spread, others were knocked off their feet as well. Leo managed to stabilize himself but Odin's feet flew out from underneath him and Niles was launched forward. The stream of curses that left the outlaw's mouth when he landed were so vile that Leo was suddenly and astutely aware of the dirt caking his exposed skin.

The dirt split open all across the battlefield. The landscape shifted as spectral figures rose through the cracks. Their forms wavered in the sunlight, some nearly invisible. Each brandished a weapon though there seemed to be no rank or file to their formation. Their armor and markings were like nothing Leo had ever encountered before on the battlefield or in the pages of historical texts. Their numbers grew until there seemed to be no end. The rumbling stopped. The silence was tremendous. No one moved. The sky was steadily separating into distinct night and day overhead.

"No time to argue!" Jakob shouted and then took a swan dive off the bridge.

"Well, today's really gone to shit," Niles muttered as he stood from the dirt. Leo nodded in begrudging agreement and then turned and ran for the bridge.

A/N: Surprise! Leo's not dead! Leo's basically my favorite character so you don't have to worry. He's safe! For now...

And so we have our first battle sequence. In all honesty, I struggle the most with battle/action writing because its so hard to make the words match the scene in my head. The previous version was full of cop outs as I intentionally wrote around battle scenes which ended up driving the narrative arc and kind of worked, but I still feel it was pretty obvious that I just didn't want to write them lol.