Shepherd's Folly had an inn to allow tourists to stay over the course of several days, and Pheros got accommodations for the group. Chrom was taken to his room after fainting, and he didn't wake for the rest of the day. Gaius himself had little to do, so he simply passed the time in his room until the day came to an end. He didn't sleep well that night, and was still wide awake as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the window. Gaius decided to get up for the day, and he aimlessly wandered around the memorial. It was too early for the crowds. Without the hundreds of tourists, Gaius thought the area was actually peaceful. Or rather, sorrowful.

Behind the memorial itself was a kind of outdoor museum. Each and every single Shepherd had an exhibit consisting of a plaque and several pieces of memorabilia. The plaques had been written by visitors to the memorial, and they contained information contributed by anyone that knew anything about them. Some Shepherds, like the second generation children that followed Lucina through time, had small plaques. People just didn't know much about them. Others, like Walhart, Emmeryn, or Chrom himself, had large exhibits. Everyone had at least heard of them. Everyone had a plaque though. Even Gaius himself, and he'd gotten a chuckle out of reading his.

Lucina's was a unique case. Her plaque was very long, but it was all legends people had heard of her. No one knew much about her actual life, but everyone had heard her story. Gaius wasn't exactly surprised to find Chrom standing in front of it. He was about to introduce himself, but he noticed Chrom seemed to be talking.

"Oh, Lucina. We didn't know each other very long, but for thirty years you've never left my mind. Sometimes I still dream that we're together, and when I wake up… I almost can't bear it. My babies. My babies are gone from me, and the light has been gone from my life ever since. I've been dead since the day you died by my hand."

Gaius almost wanted to turn and leave, but deep down he feared for Chrom's mental health. He couldn't just walk away now. Not after agreeing with Pheros that he should be brought here. "Chrom?" He turned to find Gaius approaching him. Gaius looked over Lucina's plaque. "I thought I'd find you here. If not here then at Maribelle's, or Brady's, or Lissa's, or Emmeryn's."

"I was there earlier." Chrom didn't turn around. He just continued to stare at the memorial to his daughter. "I visited them all. When I came to this one, I just froze. Gaius… I'm sorry I struck you earlier. That wasn't right."

"It's fine. I've taken worse."

"You were right, Gaius. I needed to see this place."

Gaius noticed how motionless he was. It looked like he hadn't moved in awhile. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. Hours before the sun came up."

"You've been standing here for that long?!"

Chrom didn't respond to that. "I miss her, Gaius."

"Yeah. I know how you feel. I was at Noire's earlier."

Chrom took a deep breath. "I know I wasn't really her father."

Gaius nodded, as he knew exactly how his longtime ally felt. "But you loved her as your daughter?"

"Yes. My baby girl, but she was never a baby, and never a girl. Not to me. When she came to me, she was already a battle scarred warrior. Set in her ways. No, no I wasn't her father. Parents are supposed to be there for their children. To raise them. To guide them. To make them who they are. I couldn't do that for her. She was already an adult. No… she did that for me. She made me who I am."

"What?"

"Pheros was right about me. I created the Shepherds because I thought it would be fun. I really believed that we were protecting the people of Ylisse, but I also thought it would be fun to go where I wanted. To fight on my own terms. To be with my friends. To not have any responsibilities except to the men and women that followed me. To answer to no one but myself. I wasn't serious about our fight, not like Lucina was. Even after Emmeryn was crippled, and even after I became Exalt, I still didn't understand how serious the fight against the Grimleal was. Then she revealed her identity to me. As I gazed into her eyes, the same eyes that my newborn daughter had, I saw all the pain and suffering she'd endured. Younger than me, and I was still very young, but she'd already seen more death and violence than I could comprehend at the time. For all that, I also saw determination. She had devoted her life to the fight. I chose the Falchion because… because I thought it would be fun. It was forced into her hands. I became a soldier because I wanted to be a hero. She did it to survive. She dedicated her life to becoming a living weapon, all so that other people would never have to see horrible things she'd seen. It was then that I realized how serious everything was. I wasn't fighting for fun anymore. I wasn't even fighting because of rage, like I did after Gangrel crippled Emmeryn. I fought because I was sure that I was right. I cut down countless soldiers of Walhart and the Grimleal, but I did it without a second thought because I knew that my cause was just. That our fight was necessary. I believed I was the hero saving the world. It's all because she showed me just how important it was to stop the Fell Dragon. It's not the relationship parents are supposed to have with their children, but she made me who I was. But… I was still young and stupid. I never thought about what I was doing for a moment. I had no introspection. I was still doing everything for myself. I thought I could bring peace to the world by just killing anyone who caused problems. No. Somehow I feel that, if she were in my place, she wouldn't have made my mistakes. Gaius… she was the Lord of the story. Not me. She was the hero. Not me. Oh gods, Gaius. It should have been her. She should have lived, and I should have died with the rest of them."

Gaius was stunned. Again he worried about his old friend, and he had to say something. "Blue… you're a good man. You don't have to feel this way. You still have a lot to live for!"

"I've been dead since the day she died. Since the day they all died. Pheros thinks she can take me here, remind me of what I've lost, and that I'll stick my sword in the air and swear vengeance and become the man I was thirty years ago again. But I feel no anger now. No rage. No hatred. No, hatred is for young men. I only feel loss. Hatred, justice, righteousness, adventure, these are the things that convince young men and women to go out and become soldiers. Being a soldier is no way to live. The old and bitter send the young and passionate to die, and on the battlefield only two things can happen. Either you die, or you survive. Those who die are free. Those who survive must continue to fight on the battlefield until they become the new old and bitter, and the cycle continues. With the Shepherds, we didn't answer to anyone. I thought it was different, but we weren't. Not really. War has permeated all of human civilization, and it's a cycle that cannot be broken. Anri and Medeus. Marth and Medeus. Alm and Celica and Duma. The First Exalt and Grima. Lucina and Grima. Even when humanity isn't threatened by some demonic entity, there are always conquerors. Hardin. Rudolph. Walhart. My father. Nothing ever changed. All this war, and all this death, and nothing ever changes. It's a cycle that repeats itself over and over, and people think they can find liberty by continuing it. That's idiotic! The Shepherds were part of that cycle, Gaius. Sure we were all young, and we went where we wanted to, but we were still just another army killing like any other army. We were part of the cycle, Gaius. I… I don't want to be part of it anymore. I dedicated my life to being a soldier, but I never found liberty on the battlefield. The only liberty I found was the love I had for my friends, and my wife, and my sisters, and my children. I can't do this anymore, Gaius. Lucina gave everything she had to war, and what did it give her? What did the cycle give her?! Donnel was right. Her story wasn't an inspiration. It was a warning."

"What are you saying?"

"Like I said before, I can't do this anymore. I can't take another Lucina. I can't see another young man or woman wasting their life fighting, only to die. I can't take that again. The three. Ophelia. Soleil. Caeldori. I… loved them. Love them. I saw her in them, and now they've met the same fate. They devoted their lives to warfare, and now they're gone. Just three more young people killed in battle. All part of the cycle. They say it is entirely seemly for a young man or woman to die on the battlefield. In their death, all things are fair. When the old pass away quietly, alone and forgotten, it is tragic. Better to live a short and glorious life than to fade away. But… is it?" For the first time, Chrom turned to Gaius. "I would never want so much violence for my children. I wanted Lucina to have a husband. Children of her own. A fulfilling career that didn't threaten her life. I wanted her to live in peace. A life like that isn't anything to be ashamed of. A long life isn't anything to be ashamed of. Laying down your sword isn't anything to be ashamed of. There's no honor in throwing your life away in violence. Young people keep thinking they can change the world. That the older generations just don't understand, and that theirs will change everything! Some of them do terrible things, all believing themselves to be heroes, and in time they grow into the bitter old that will send new generations to their deaths. The cycle continues. Gaius, I stand here now looking at one of the few friends I still have. War took everyone I ever loved from me. If I continue… I'm sure it'll take you away too. I started fighting again, and what happened? Cordelia? Ophelia? Soleil? Caeldori? Once more I've lost my loved ones to war. I see now that there will always be Lucinas. Young people will devote their lives to warfare, until the day warfare takes their life back. The cycle continues." Chrom started to pace back and forth, looking up to the sky as if frustrated with the world itself. "What has the world become, Gaius? Now there are more soldiers than ever, but they aren't heroes. They're with the Grimleal, oppressing and subjugating, or they're with the Arch Surg, killing innocents and thinking themselves just for it. They're all expendable cogs in a machine. They don't fight for what they believe anymore. They fight because they don't know anything else. War is the machine that drives this world now. Young men and women, those three girls included, all sacrificed to the meat grinder to maintain it. It no longer matters why you fight. You can't find freedom from the cycle. Not by being part of it. War is our society now. Politics and economics are just iterations of the system that the cycle has built. War has become a set of systems and norms, and this regime that now rules over all humanity is living in symbiosis with it. Morality no longer matters. Ideology no longer matters. Patriotism, loyalty, justice, principles, none of that matters. There is only the war machine. Soldiers no longer fight to protect, or to liberate. They're just part of the authority now. We were the last to fight for what we believed in, but I'm not proud of what we were. The Shepherds were still part of that cycle of warfare throughout human history. The heroes of legend were always defined by violence and death, and yet nothing ever really changed. Grima won in the end, so what did the Hero King do really? What did Alm and Celica do? What did the First Exalt do? All that death for nothing. No, no a life of violence is NOTHING to be proud of. Too long has human civilization glorified war. This military complex that now rules over our race is… is not Grima's creation. It's ours. This is the culmination of human nature. War is a business now! A way to control people! It's no longer about heroism and protecting what you love. No, no it never was. Life's about the bonds you forge with the people by your side. Sure the Shepherds loved each other, but could we have done that without being part of that cycle? I could have loved my wife, and my sisters, and my friends, and my children, without fighting and killing. We were idiots, Gaius. If I could get my hands on my younger self, I'd… I'd… I'D… argh! I'd, I'd show him this. All of this! It's HIS FAULT! It's… it's my fault. Life's… life's not about changing the world. About making your vision life for other people. It sure as hell isn't about killing others because they stand in your way. Life's about… respecting the will of others. Understanding the value of life. There's no honor or justice in killing. I see that now. Life's about… believing in your own will… but not forcing it on the world. Humanity will never come together in peace through war. Humanity will never rally around some Conqueror. Around some Emperor. Around some Hero. Humanity will only come together when we all agree to. When we understand the importance of the bonds we make in life. When we love and care about our neighbors. When we stop fearing each other. When we stop worshiping those who kill." Chrom looked back to the memorial. "I'm so sorry, Lucina. You gave your life for humanity, but I failed you. Still… you showed me what really mattered. Now… I see the truth in your aunt's words. When I was a young man, I disagreed with Emmeryn. With what she wanted. Only now… when I'm older than my sisters, children, or parents ever were, do I see her courage. She was braver than I ever was. Trying to end a legacy of warfare is hard. Picking up a sword and killing brigands is easy."

"What… what are you saying?"

Chrom drew the Falchion. "I'm saying I will follow in Emmeryn's footsteps, not my father's, and I want nothing to do with this THING!" Chrom raised it above his head, as if about to strike with it. Gaius froze, terrified that he was about to hurt himself.

"What are you doing?!" Chrom ignored him. With an almost horrifying roar, Chrom thrusted his sword into the ground itself with as much force as he could muster. The sword was buried in the ground, almost to the hilt. Gaius wasn't even sure if he or anyone else could pull it out. "Y-your sword. You're leaving it here?!"

"It belongs here, Gaius. As a part of this memorial. Chrom really did die that day. I know I'm not Mercer now. Mercer turned away from the world, and I can't do that. Not after what happened to Cordelia, and Ophelia. People will continue to die if I do nothing. But… I'm not going to fight them like I did as a young man. I couldn't stop the Fell Dragon back then, and it's foolish to think I can now. I'm not the Exalt of Ylisse anymore, Gaius. I'm not the man I was thirty years ago anymore."

"Than who are you?"

"Someone else."

Gaius gave Chrom a confused expression. "You have all that to say about society, but now all you have is 'someone else'?"

"I don't know what I'll do, Gaius." Chrom looked back to him, determined. "But I won't follow in a legacy of violence anymore. Think of how many people have fallen on that blade in the millennia it's been in my family. No more death, Gaius." Chrom remembered the words of Keith of all people. "I will find a way to walk the path of the righteous, without being part of the cycle."

"What have you done?!" Chrom and Gaius turned to find Pheros, her face a mixture of shock and frustration, staring at the Falchion. Chrom noted that he'd never seen her stoic expression break before. Pheros had always been calm and collected to him, and yet now he could see a glimpse of the fury and anger the woman nursed just beneath her light blue, almost slate colored eyes.

"What are you on about now, crazy lady?!" Gaius spat.

"You can't possibly abandon the Falchion!" Pheros cried out, a hint of panic in her furious tone.

"Were you listening to us?" Chrom asked. He squinted at her, suspicious of her emotional reaction.

"I was. You two were already talking when I walked up. I was going to announce myself… but then I listened to what you were saying. I had no idea you felt that way. You… you're really not who I thought you were. You ruined Walhart's dream, and you're the progenitor of all the world's suffering now, but you're also not that same man anymore. Not… the man I hate."

"So sorry to disappoint you." Chrom responded dryly.

"You can't really mean what you said about warfare. About turning away from fighting. Soldiers are necessary for society. They can repress, but they can also protect and liberate. They can be used to conquer, but they can also fight for their loved ones. They can fight to protect an ideology. To keep it alive. Soldiers are willing to give their lives to something greater than themselves, but they're used by politicians for their own selfish goals. They're the bravest men and women in the world, and I know that they're used as tools by politicians and officers, but not by Archangel. She cares about them. She knows what it's like to be one. The Arch Surg is a soldier's heaven, where they can be respected. Where anyone can rise through merit. Where people fight for what they believe."

"And the innocents that suffer under you?"

Pheros tightened her grip on her healing staff in annoyance. It was as if she considered that point to be unimportant, and she was frustrated that Chrom kept bringing it up. "The Arch Surg is fighting for the greater good of humanity. Who cares if it's not perfect. Let me put it in simple terms. We're making the mother of all omelettes here, Chrom. Can't fret over every egg."

"How can that justify your actions when you claim to be fighting for the eggs?!"

"... okay I think we took the analogy too far. That just sounds ridiculous."

Chrom gave Pheros a stern look. "You only took me here to manipulate me into wanting to fight the Grimleal. You think I'll jump on any opportunity to strike at them, and that I'll happily join you. You're concerned about the Falchion because you're afraid you won't be able to have it on your side."

"So what? You're a broken man. You need help to become what you were again! All I'm doing is reminding you of what they've taken!"

"You said you hated what I was."

"I do! I would rather go through menopause again than follow you." Pheros stepped forward. "But I'll fight with you as part of something greater. Don't you understand what I've been saying about the Archanean Liberation Front? It's bigger than any one person. My feelings don't matter."

"You have no empathy. No value for life."

Pheros considered these words. "Maybe I have no empathy as you know it. You just don't comprehend that I'm fighting for the good of the entire world here. It's not about individuals. It's about the revolution. I… I don't have anyone, Chrom. I never had children. No husband. My parents went years ago. I have no one in my life outside of my career, but that's fine. I've devoted my entire life to my cause, to something greater than myself! That is my empathy. That is my love for humanity. You say soldiers have no principles anymore, but that is my principle!" Pheros slammed her healing staff on the ground. "Don't tell me we don't care!"

Gaius stepped forward this time. "Chrom, don't listen to her! The Arch Surg are crazy. They're rebels, and not fun rebels. They're not like the Shepherds. They don't have campy beach adventures or hot springs adventures. They terrorists. They don't negotiate with authority figures. They don't make peace bonds. They don't trust in the judicial system. They much prefer to shoot guns."

"I don't recall speaking to you, thief." Pheros shot back.

"Hey! I may have stolen from people, but I never killed out of self defense! Unless Chrom or Robin ordered me to. And then unless I was paid to. Uh… let me start over."

"Stop it! Both of you!" Chrom shouted, genuine sadness in his voice. "Don't fight. Not here of all places. Not now."

"Chrom." Pheros said gently. "You can't really leave the Falchion here."

"Why not? You think I can still perform the Awakening ritual? You think I can still use it to kill Grima? You think it'll be that easy?"

Pheros looked defeated by Chrom's tone for a second. It was clear that the Arch Surg did hold on to this hope. "It's not impossible."

"Oh yeah? Where is the Fire Emblem now? Where are the gems? Does anyone outside the Grimleal know? Surely Mount Prism is controlled by the Grimleal. Surely they have a whole damn army there! It's a fantasy, Pheros. That sword belongs here. With them. I'm not changing my mind on this."

"But-"

"I'll make you a deal. I'll go back with you to see the other Arch Surg officers, but only if you respect my decision. Only if you let it go."

Pheros seemed to struggle with this for several seconds. The Arch Surg did seem to want the Falchion, but Pheros hadn't been lying about wanting Chrom himself, and she eventually agreed. "Alright. I've heard of how stubborn you can be. It's something Walhart admired about you. Let's just leave before the crowds return. I just think you're making a huge mistake."

"I don't."

Gaius did a double take back to the Falchion. "Wait, you're really leaving your sword? Someone will steal it!"

"The blade is only sharp in my hands. It'll be dulled in anyone else's. I'd like to see someone try to pull it out. Besides, the blade is indestructible. Even if someone takes it, that sword will never disappear."

"But it's been in your family for over two thousand years."

"I don't have anyone to pass it on to. What difference does it make?"

Gaius stared at Chrom for a long time, looking for any signs that Chrom would regret the decision, but there weren't any. Gaius finally nodded to Chrom, and he and Pheros walked away. Chrom was about to join them, but a strange motion caught his eye. He turned to see a blue butterfly perched on the hilt. He slowly approached it, and the butterfly fluttered upwards and flew around him. Chrom swatted at it in confusion and annoyance before reaching out and seemingly crushing it in his hand. He then opened his fingers to find that nothing had ever been there. "Chrom!" He looked up to see Gaius and Pheros both giving him confused glances. "Are you coming?"

"Did… did you two see that?"

"See what?"

"It… wasn't there? N-nevermind. Let's go."

Gaius shrugged and turned back to Pheros. "Wait, before we go. Where's Henry?"

Back at the merchant stalls lining the road leading into Shepherd's Folly, Henry nervously approached a merchant as he was setting up for the day. The merchant didn't notice him until he'd picked up a replica of a sword. The same sword that his son had once used, and the inspiration for the name of his granddaughter's tome. "Ah, a fan of Owain are we? They say cursed blood flowed through his veins! That of course means paraphernalia pertaining to him is more expensive… you know." Henry didn't seem bothered at all, but he also didn't say anything back. He just smiled and continued to stare at the sword. The merchant gave him a cheesy grin for as long as his ego would allow it, but he eventually became annoyed. "Look buddy, this is a shop. Go read his plaque if you just want to learn about him. That's 2300 gold, and I don't want you breaking it." To the merchant's considerable surprise, Henry took out a sack of gold coins and paid for the sword in full. The merchant counted it, and a more sincere smile crept on his face. "Pleasure doing business."

The sword Henry had just purchased was little more than a souvenir. It was surprisingly accurate to Missiletainn, but it was wooden. It had no significance other than being a replica of something his son had once used. Henry smiled and held it close to him. "There, Ophelia." He whispered to himself, the first time he'd spoken since his granddaughter's death. "Now you'll have something to remember your father by."

(This Chapter marks the end of what I consider to be Act 2. Any comments, questions, or concerns about the story so far? I'd love to hear them.)