Chapter 19
Robin stood, his eyes wide and mouth slack, staring in awe as plumes of dark clouds rose from the beautiful buildings that made up Ylisstol's inner city. A small crowd of the other Shepherds were at his back as they watched the smoke rise. Even from this distance he could see that the outer city was a mess of activity, chaos reigning as commoners and nobility alike fled the flames. With a sinking feeling Robin watched as familiar dark shapes leapt from building to building, roof to roof, pouncing on the fleeing civilians. More of the shapes emerged from alleys and even the shadows themselves, tearing into the panicked populace.
"Risen," Virion spat from his side. "Of course it is the foulest of Risen."
"Everywhere I go," Robin finally managed to mutter, before sighing. "Why do these damn things keep hounding me!? Don't answer that, stupid question."
From his other side Tharja let out a tired sigh of her own, barely more than a breath from her nose, already holding her spellbook under one arm.
"This… this is…" Owain managed to mumble, at a loss. He rallied after a moment, shaking his head. "I was hoping I'd never have to see this city burning again."
Robin nodded, clapping a hand on the boy's shoulder. He realized with a start, though, that Owain's shoulder was actually higher than his own now. They future-Prince had grown up while he hadn't been watching.
Chrom had practically had a fit, so great was his rage when he'd learned that his capital was under attack. It had only grown worse when he'd learned that the Risen were responsible. Sumia, Cherche Cynthia and Cordelia passed overhead, their flying mounts having departed to scout almost as soon as word had reached them that the city was aflame while Frederick and Chrom tried to organize the Shepherds, retainers and honor guard they had on hand; of course, being the Exalt meant that Chrom travelled with a small army at all times, not to mention the squads of Themisian soldiers Maribelle had brought, so they weren't hurting for bodies, at the least. Gaius was already gone, infiltrating the chaos of the city and trying to track down Lissa and anyone else still in the capital. Leaving the rest of the Shepherds to wait and watch until things were ready.
"We just got finished tearing through a bunch of Risen," Robin said, turning away from the city. "I almost feel bad for whoever summoned these things when Chrom gets at them. Almost."
"I'd feel worse if I get at them first," Tharja hissed, following him.
"Felt like the mages tower, right?" he asked her softly.
"I'd bet my life on it," Tharja agreed.
Virion and Owain followed silently, the quartet returning to where the others were almost finished preparing now. As they walked Gaius appeared to simply materialize at Robin's shoulder, the skinny thief covered in soot and out of breath.
"They have the palace," he reported. "Near as I can tell Lissa's put up a pretty nasty fight, but she and a group of non-coms are trapped there. Risen aren't exactly unified, looked like they were more of a distraction than anything else."
"Good work, take five," Robin said, never breaking stride. "Sound like you're a little out of shape, there. Maybe you'd better cut back on the sweets after all?"
"They'll never find your body, Bubbles. Remember that," Gaius warned playfully.
Robin smirked, shaking his head. Despite the incredible insult of attacking Ylisstol spirits were still mostly high. Chrom looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel, and Robin could practically hear Frederick's teeth grinding from ten meters away, but everyone else showed the same calm readiness they always did. The Shepherds that were actually present joked and talked the way they always did before a mission, and the soldiers of Chrom's escort appeared ready to storm the city at any moment, with or without the Exalt's orders.
It was confidence inspiring to have so many veterans, and it actually brought a modicum of peace to Robin.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have our targets," he called out as he approached where Chrom and Frederick were organizing the troops.
"What do we do?" Basilio asked above the din when he spotted Robin, everyone growing silent almost instantly as they looked to Robin for a plan.
"We have two objectives," the tactician said without preamble. "Retake the palace, and stop more Risen from being summoned. Unfortunately, whoever's doing this didn't get the memo about how this is usually done, and those two objectives are some distance apart."
A few chuckles and weak laughs met his small joke, and Robin grinned as he went on.
"Near as we can tell, whatever's causing the Risen to appear is in the Mage's Tower. We'll split into two teams, hit them both at once. Shouldn't take long. I need a small team to join me in taking the tower back. Uh… Sully, Vaike, Tharja, Gaius, Owain and… Olivia. Cherche, Cordelia, I want you flying recon from the outside for us; there's plenty of terraces and open balconies they could ambush us on. And Maribelle as our support. That should be more than enough. The rest of you, take the palace. Chrom, a moment."
Everyone sprang into action now that they had their orders, the usually stoic Frederick practically shouting as he began to outline the attack plan for the Palace. Chrom came stomping over to Robin, resplendent in his full battle plate. The majesty was ruined, though, by the intense frown on the Exalt's face, his knuckles white on Falchion's hilt.
"Yes?" he said shortly.
"Chrom I want you with me on the Tower," Robin said simply.
"You cannot be serious."
"Whatever's causing this is at the tower. I don't know what it is, but if it's like Maris… I may not be able to handle it alone."
"You're not alone, you've got a team of the Shepherds-"
"You and I," Robin cut him off softly, "are the only ones capable of putting down this threat. Nobody else has been Awakened. If something happens to me and whatever it is causing this gets away it'll be a lot more than just Ylisstol burning. This is bigger than one city, Chrom. I need you on this."
"Dammit Robin, this is my home," Chrom seethed.
"And this is also your country," Robin countered. "You have an obligation to all the cities and towns, not just Ylisstol. We need to contain this."
The Exalt ground his teeth, snarling wordlessly before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I know. I hate it when you're right."
"You'd think you'd be used to it by now," Robin said with a smirk.
"I'll tell Frederick," Chrom said with a sigh. "He won't be happy, but someone needs to retake the palace."
"Sumia's going with him," Robin shrugged. "I'm sure that'll make him a little happier."
"Or as happy as Frederick ever gets," Chrom scoffed. "I don't even remember him smiling at his own wedding."
"Ouch," Robin chuckled. "Not surprising, though. Go on, then. I've got work to do."
Chrom nodded, his expression a little softer as he strode towards the Ylissean soldiers all knotted around Frederick and Sumia. The tactician turned, coming face to face with the four others he'd left off the list. Galle, Arya, Kowrowa and Ita stood, waiting to see who spoke first.
"I notice," Galle drawled. "That you left us out of your attack on the Mage's Tower."
"No I didn't," Robin smirked. "Like I could get rid of you lot if I tried."
"Where you go, we go," Kowrowa rumbled.
Ita heaved a great sigh through her nose, shaking her head and turning away. Her long, messy hair swayed with the movement, the clacking of the beads and fetishes braided through it startlingly loud in the pre-mission lull.
"Arya, are you up for this?" Robin asked solemnly, turning to his apprentice. "You can stay out here with the Princess if you'd like. Hell, I want you to stay with the princess. But it's your call."
Arya jumped a little, clasping her hands in front of her and fiddling with her fingers nervously for a moment before taking a deep breath and forcing them back down. When she looked up at Robin there was a determination, a fire in her eyes.
"I can't be afraid forever," she said. "And I'm your apprentice, right? I've… I've got your back!"
"Well said, little one," Kowrowa chuckled, his big toothy smile splitting his thick beard as he clapped a hand on Arya's shoulder.
Galle nodded approvingly, grinning a little himself, and Ita just huffed again, crossing her arms.
"Good," Robin said with a nod, before reaching back and tying his hair out of his face, displaying the ugly burn scar on his forehead. "Get your kit together. As of now, and I honestly hoped I'd never have to say this, Ylisstol is enemy territory."
Virion sent a rain of arrows one after another at a knot of Risen congregating in a small marketplace, the upscale shops and stalls of Ylisstol's inner wards reduced to so much shattered glass and shards of wood by the rampaging creatures. Unlike the ones that Maris had summoned in Regna Ferox, these creatures had that spark of malign intelligence that made them dangerous. He had personally already taken down three Chieftains on his own, a new personal best.
With a sigh Virion lowered his bow, the soldiers with him charging forwards behind Frederick, the quarters becoming too tight for him to chance taking any shots unless he had to.
"Restock!" Virion called out over his shoulder.
One of the soldiers, a young man whose House Ylisse tabard hung off him like a backwards cape, ran forward, exchanging Virion's almost exhausted quiver with a new one that he slotted into the hoop hanging from his belt. If nothing else at least fighting as part of a unit was always more convenient for archers.
Around him several other archers from the Honor Guard milled about, resupplying and watching attentively to cover the soldiers in the marketplace. With barely a change in his expression Virion brought his bow up and loosed an arrow, his hands a blur. The bolt flew through the crowd, burying itself in the shoulder of a Risen that had snuck up behind one of the Ylissean soldiers. The young man spun, impaling the creature without ever knowing who had saved him, but such was a sniper's lot in battle.
Virion gave a tired sigh again as he lowered his bow. "Truly I must be getting old. I was aiming for the creature's head."
Behind him a woman giggled a little, and Virion turned to see Queen Sumia approaching. The younger woman had lost none of her beauty or charm, and Virion couldn't help but smirk as he recalled all the times he had flirted with the maiden Pegasus Knight during their first campaign in Plegia, discussing poetry and love. Of course it had all amounted to nothing; even then she had had her heart firmly set on the then-Prince, Chrom. Such pure love made Virion smirk even more when he thought of it. It truly was the rarest of rarities.
"There are still very few archers capable of making that shot," Sumia said encouragingly. "I know for a fact many of my own guard would have struggled with it."
"I resent that, your majesty!" one of the nearby archers laughed.
"Just watch, we'll do you proud, my lady!" another added.
Sumia smiled fondly as the small squad of archers moved into a better position, one pair even going so far as to climb up onto the low roof of one of the nearby buildings to find better range. The Queen had left her pegasus Palla with the rearguard, choosing to lead the assault to retake the palace on foot. While it would have made more sense to have her flying reconnaissance with her time-travelling daughter Cynthia Virion agreed with Robin that it would have been too dangerous. They didn't know how many Risen were in the city, or where they were capable of bringing to bear; the Shepherds were using brute-force lightning tactics that Robin had come up with during the Valm campaign, relying of mobility and versatility. Unfortunately a horse or a pegasus couldn't jump many of the low walls or pass through the tightly packed buildings of the Inner Wards. Instead Sumia was wearing slightly heavier armor than she usually did, polished bronze greaves to match her breastplate and gauntlets and a leather kilt replacing her usual riding gear. She still carried her favored lance, but also had a thin and elegant rapier, similar to the one Robin used, strapped to her hip. Her husband and daughters' influence, no doubt.
"Your words honor me, good queen," Virion said with an over-exaggerated bow.
"Oh none of that," Sumia chided. "We've known each other for long enough, Virion."
The archer smirked, rising and resting his bow against one shoulder as he offered the young queen a wink. "Be that as it may, in the presence of such nobility even I, the archest of archers, find it difficult to maintain my decorum. But for you I shall try."
"Clear!" Frederick's booming voice called from the market.
Sumia and Virion advanced as part of the rearguard, the other archers and the mages accompanying them moving into the square now, too. The majority of the Shepherds not on Robin's team were off on the main road through the Inner Wards, making as much noise and causing as much of a distraction as they could; a task Cynthia seemed a little too enthusiastic to be in charge of, in Virion's opinion. Robin's plan had been elegantly simple, but then it never was hard to fool the Risen; Sumia, Virion, Frederick and Lon'qu would take two squads of Honor Guard and pass through the winding back roads to the palace while Cynthia and the others acted the distraction with the remaining three squads of Honor Guard. The plan was to catch the Risen between them and meet at the palace steps before storming the building to rescue Lissa, the children and anyone else they could find.
Tension was high, though. Lon'qu, clearly worried about his wife Lissa and their infant child, had a firm set to his features, his mouth drawn into a thin line as his eyes hunted for more foes to dispatch. Sumia, too, had her usually gentle features drawn into a frown, the knowledge that her sister-in-law and youngest daughter were in danger clearly weighing heavily on the woman. Frederick… Frederick had been a force of nature, a battering ram in the shape of a man. It was as if the Knight Commander took this invasion as a personal insult. It most likely didn't help that the man's own daughter was no doubt with Princess Lissa, too.
"We aren't far from the palace now," Sumia declared, her voice strong and certain. "Take heart, men! Soon this nightmare will be over!"
A resounding cheer went up from the Honor Guard, Virion not bothering to hide the smirk on his own face. It truly was a joyous thing, watching a young woman grow into the role that the Gods had chosen for her. Or perhaps he was smirking because he had heard her husband use the same line at least a dozen times he could count. It didn't really matter, though.
As the soldiers began to pour into the narrow back-streets again, struggling to keep up with Frederick as the man charged ahead, Virion cast his gaze at the Mage's Tower, visible in the sky even from this distance. The great edifice was built into the wall that separated the Inner and Outer Wards, almost as far away from the palace as it was possible to get without actually being in the Outer Wards.
"Virion!" Lon'qu called.
The Duke of Rosanne glanced back, realizing that the Feroxi swordsman and the Queen were waiting for him.
"I'm coming," he called. "Alas, I find the skyline marred by the smoke."
"We'll fix that after we get rid of the Risen," Sumia chuckled as he came alongside her, before adding in a much softer tone, "I'm worried about them too."
Virion gave her an appreciative nod as they began to follow the others. Not much could escape the eyes of the Queen, it seemed.
"I'm sure they're fine," Virion scoffed. "Really, after all we've done? I do not think there's anything in this world that could ruffle the feathers of our most Exalted of Exalts and Tactical of Tacticians."
Robin let out a high-pitched scream as he dove through the air, rolling into cover as several large fireballs incinerated the ground that he had just been standing on.
"What the hell are these things made out of!?" he shouted to no one in particular, pressing his back up against the ruined wall of one of the buildings at the base of the Mage's Tower, a note of panic in his usually clear voice.
Galle, already waiting in the cover of the ruined building, shot his former teacher a withering glare.
"A small team will be enough, that's all we'll need, it won't take long!" the younger man said sarcastically, flipping desperately through his spellbook. "Remind me why we listen to you again!?"
"Where's Arya!?" Robin shouted over the explosions of more spells.
"Back with Olivia where the buildings are still intact!" Galle shouted back, putting extra emphasis on the last word.
With a grunt Tharja tumbled into the same cover as them, shedding her burning cloak as she did so. The Dark Mage had a fierce snarl on her face as she rose up, gesturing upwards with one cupped hand and sending blasts of dark purple flames into the sky. Finally the torrent of magical flames abated long enough for Chrom to shout "Forward!", leading the charge to the base of the tower himself. Of course, he and Vaike were the only ones that actually charged.
"Are they insane?" Robin muttered under his breath, leaning out to cover the two idiots with a few more bolts of magical lighting.
"I liked that cloak," Tharja growled, watching her robes smolder before her.
"I'd offer you mine, but we've all seen what happens when I take off my coat," Robin grinned, earning a second withering glare.
Magic-wielding Risen were nothing new to the Shepherds; most had been weak, barely capable of casting a simple spell let alone complex ones. Then there had been the Deadlord mages, creatures that even Tharja, arguably the Shepherds' most accomplished combat mage after Robin, had struggled with. The Risen currently barring their path to the Mages Tower were somewhere in between.
For good measure Robin leaned out of cover himself, tossing a few arcs of magical lighting at the remaining Risen.
"I can't believe I miss Virion!" Tharja hissed, ducking back down as several arrows clattered off the broken brickwork.
Galle rose up this time, and with a sweep of his hands sent a blast of magical green wind into the air, knocking all of the arrows off their trajectories. Ita and Kowrowa saw this, both howling and charging towards the Risen archers firing at them from the left flank.
"I'm sure he'd be tickled pink to hear that from you," Robin laughed. "He always thought you hated him!"
"I do!" Tharja snapped.
"Less talking, more magic!" Galle shouted as more spells fell into the ruins around them.
Robin rolled his eyes, rising up and firing three powerful Thoron spells at the Risen. The air itself seemed to quake with the spells' passing, Galle groaning and covering his ears as even Tharja flinched.
They had come into the small square that sat at the foot of the Mages Tower to find a perfect killing-field; the infantry couldn't get past the mages, the fliers couldn't get past the archers, and the mages couldn't get past the infantry. Many of the shops and houses near the Tower, a massive stone edifice rising nearly a kilometer into the sky, sat at the end of the square, surrounded by Risen. It wasn't until Chrom and Vaike had come up with the fool-hardy idea that they would distract the infantry, braving the magical fire of the Risen mages, long enough for Robin, Tharja and Galle to get into position. Without the tactician's consent, too. It had worked, though, and now they were finally making progress. Every time Chrom screamed 'forward' he and Vaike drove a little deeper into the Risen, earning them more and more respite. As Kowrowa and Ita finished reducing the archers to ash Cordelia and Cherche swooped in, descending upon the mage Risen closer to the tower that Robin's display of magical superiority hadn't killed outright. Leaving Chrom to lead the infantry charge against the rest of the conventional Risen.
With a sigh Robin turned his back to the ruins, sliding down them into a sitting position.
"I'm getting too old for this," he groaned.
Tharja rolled her eyes, dropping a waterskin and a stimulant potion into his lap. "Drink that. It will help."
Robin frowned, doing as he was told. He hated the stimulants, but they were necessary. He and Tharja hadn't admitted it, but they were both feeling the side effects of the dark magic blanketing the city a little more than the others. Galle and Arya were uncomfortable, and Femi was a little queasy, but the two experienced spellcasters were having trouble focusing, and Robin could barely stay on his feet. A part of him knew that if he just opened himself to the corrupt mana, the way he had back on Origin Peak to fight Grima, even just a little as he had in Regna Ferox a week ago, he could end this almost immediately. But every time he did shaved years off his life. The cracks behind his ear had spread, covering nearly half of the back of his head now. He hadn't told Lucina yet. He knew Tharja knew, though, and then only because she was the most powerful Dark Mage left in existence. The tainted Dark Magic Grima had wielded was like a drug, one that had left its mark on Robin, corroding his spirit and soul. Simply put, he knew his soul itself was just as scarred as his body; the spirit couldn't support the powerful dark magic any more, not after everything he had been forced to endure. Not the self-destructive Grimleal Dark Magic. Not after dying twice. Just closing himself off from it was sapping his energy and strength, leaving him almost painfully exhausted.
In a moment of stark realization Robin realized that denying Grima's legacy all these years, since as early as the start of the Valm campaign, was slowly killing him.
And as much as he wanted to end the threat to Ylisstol, he did also want to live long enough to see his daughter grow up.
"Better?" Tharja asked as Robin brought the waterskin to his lips in an attempt to wash the foul taste of the stimulant from his mouth.
"Yeah, much," he nodded, rising slowly and making a face. "Yeesh, and I thought vullenaries tasted bad. You never did tell me what was in these things."
"You still don't want to know," Tharja rolled her eyes, taking the waterskin back.
Galle shot his former teacher a curious look, though, but held his questions as the rearguard joined them. Olivia, Gaius, Maribelle, Arya and Femi came into the rubble that the three were hiding in. Arya looked a little pale, her knuckles white as she gripped her dagger. Her eyes darted around, though, taking in the scene quickly as Robin stepped up to her.
"And that," he sighed. "Is a perfect example of a killing field. Not how I wanted to show you one, but whatever works. Take note. And… don't try and outmaneuver it the way we did. I don't think anyone else can match the combined luck of those two oafs."
Arya nodded, a small grin breaking out on her face at her teacher's glib tone.
"I heard that!" Chrom called from across the square.
The Exalt's mood had abated somewhat, getting better the more fighting they had encountered. Robin guessed that the bigger man simply felt better about actually doing something to save his home, rather than waiting for reports to come in.
"Good! Stop doing stupid stuff unless I tell you to!" Robin called back.
"Teach knows you know you loved the show!" Vaike called back, perching atop a pile of rubble and proceeding to flex his muscles for them.
"That doesn't make sense, Vaike!" Robin laughed.
"Doesn't have to it was still awesome!" Vaike shouted back.
"These are the men that saved the world?" Femi asked quietly, her voice somewhat disappointed.
"I know," Tharja agreed with a sigh.
"I do wish they were a little more mature about it," Maribelle added.
Robin turned with a grin, reaching into his seemingly bottomless pouch and producing the tattered brown canvas cloak he wore over his coat in the colder climates up north, holding the garment up to Tharja.
"Isn't that why you guys love us? Here. Figured you'd feel naked without a top layer," he said with a grin.
Tharja sighed out her nose, accepting the cloak and slipping it on without an ounce of hesitation over her tight travelling clothes as Maribelle groaned and rolled her eyes. Robin couldn't help but grin at the thought that, if he had done this when they had first met she would probably have fainted from happiness. Judging from the way he could tell she was desperately trying to suppress a smile the Dark Mage was still clearly very pleased.
"Hey!" Sully called out from the foot of the tower. "You… uh, you magey types wanna come take a look at this?"
Robin and Tharja exchanged a glance, the tactician shrugging before they began to pick their way through the rubble to where the Knight was standing.
Out of all of the Shepherds Sully was one of them that had changed the least. Her hair was still shorn short, she still wore the same old battered red armor, and her muscles still put Robin to shame. However a new expression was on her face as he approached, Chrom and the others following closely behind. The veteran knight was unsettled.
A chorus of confused muttering broke out as they came upon the body of one of the Risen mages that had been plaguing them, not yet turned to ash and lying face down.
"So is it… not dead?" Vaike asked, nudging the corpse with his boot.
Sully shrugged, flipping her lance and driving it down into the creature's back. It didn't so much as stir. "Second time I've done that now."
Robin glanced around, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized that none of the Risen mages had turned to ash like the rest, many lying in pieces after being hit by his spells. With a feeling of great trepidation he knelt down, turning the body up. A young face, quite dead, glared up at the sky. Its flesh was grey, shot through with black and red veins. Just like…
"It looks like Maris," Chrom commented. "But… that would mean…"
"That it was once weak and human, yes."
Everyone glanced up, weapons coming up instinctually as a hunched form shuffled out from within the darkness of the Tower. As it came into the light Robin instantly gagged, the fell energy exuding from the newcomer almost overwhelming him.
"You," Tharja commented, stepping forward. "I know you. Professor Clarus. What happened here? Speak, fool!"
"Do not presume to speak to me so, witch," the hooded man snapped. "You come to my home, kill my students-"
"These were students!?" Chrom thundered, stomping forward a few steps before Robin grabbed him.
"They still are!" Clarus shouted right back, his reedy voice carrying a hint of something sinister beneath it. "My beloved students. And you… you're murdering them!"
"Clarus, what have you done?" Robin asked, stepping around Chrom.
"What have you done!?" the mage snapped in return, rounding on the tactician.
Robin flinched away, watching as the flesh beneath the mage's chin, the only visible part of his face, writhed as if something beneath was trying to get out.
"Professor Clarus, you were a good, honest man-" Chrom tried, before the possessed mage cut him off.
"Spare me, your Exaltedness. Before today you didn't even know who I was. No one did. I will bring change to this city, and then this world, and none will ever know that it was I that gave humanity the last little push to something… greater."
"Not if I have something to say about it, craven," Owain growled, a look on his face that Robin had never seen on him before. For the first time the young man looked like a Prince. "How dare you… how dare you attack this peaceful city thus!? I came all this way to save this world, and you do this!? I, Owain Dark, will not have it!"
A wave of unfocused mana erupted from Owain, kicking up a cloud of dust as he charged. Only to run face-first into the doors of the tower as Clarus waved his hand, closing them in his face with a quick spell.
Robin tried and failed to hide his smirk, a few of the others doing the same as Owain turned with a furious blush on his cheeks.
"Thank Naga Severa wasn't here to see that," the blonde man sighed.
"When did you learn magic?" Robin asked, still grinning.
"Er… a little here, a little there," Owain excused lamely, rubbing the back of his head. "It does kind of run in my family."
"Are you a mage, too!?" Robin asked, spinning to Chrom.
"Of course not! And I like your spirit, Owain," Chrom chuckled, clapping a hand on his time-travelling nephew's shoulder, "but we do this as we always have. As a team. Ricken's in there somewhere, and maybe even Nowi and Nah. We need to rescue them, as well as the students and other faculty. Robin?"
"Standard formation," the tactician shrugged, making a show of rolling up his coat's sleeves. "Heavies in the front, lighter infantry behind and mages in the rear. Rotate out if you take a hit, let Maribelle treat you. Cordelia, Cherche, time to start flying and supporting us on the terraces. Everyone else, stand back. This is going to be loud, and I'm gonna enjoy it."
"Please don't destroy any more of my city," Chrom sighed.
"Aw, you're no fun," Robin sighed.
The banter was muted, though; neither man's heart was in it after learning about the students in the tower. It was unspoken that they all hoped that not all of the students had been turned into monsters. They had all fought together long enough to know that this was how they all felt.
From above the group of Shepherds on the main street of Ylisstol's Inner Ward Cynthia let out a whooping cry, her pegasus, the future version of Palla that had come back in time with her, diving down at speeds that for anyone else would be near suicidal before barreling through a particularly dense knot of Risen and darting back to the sky again.
Basilio watched the young Deputy Wing-Commander's antics, grinning and thinking to himself that he should have put more effort into finding a gryphon in the frozen north when he was a younger man.
"You've got that old-man smile going on again," Van, one of Robin's kids, laughed from his side.
"I think it suits him," the quiet priest Libra added from behind.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Basilio guffawed. "Out of the three of us who's got the higher kill-count?"
"Kinda hard to tell when they keep turning to ash," Van commented. "How did you guys keep count during the war?"
"We guessed," Libra said with a grin.
The unlikely trio, a Feroxi Khan, a Ylissean war-priest from an order that was supposed to be extinct, and a newly-minted tactician, all lapsed into silence as one of the Ylissean Captains started barking orders at the Honor Guard units at the front of their formation, verbally whipping the men into formation before driving them further into the Risen.
"At this rate we'll be at the Palace before we even need to catch them between us," Van smirked, bouncing his odd sword-staff on his shoulder as they began walking.
Basilio scoffed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the last member of their little party was still there. Idallia glared up at him, her face pale and her long perfect hair pulled away from her face in a functional ponytail. After the fracas at the Coliseum she had taken the time to get her old armor from her quarters, the clean Ylissean plates clearly speaking of the support role she'd played behind the safety of their lines during the campaign in Valm. Basilio couldn't help but think it was about time that the armor got some dirt and dings on it.
The old Khan let out a breath as he jogged to keep up with the two younger men, Idallia following close behind him. He'd never admit it, but he was starting to tire. And why not? He was at least thirty years older than some of the kids around him right now. Despite what he'd said to Robin in Regna Ferox, Basilio wasn't at the top of his game anymore, and he hated to admit that he hadn't been for a long time. He was old. His joints ached. His muscles burned. Phantom pain flared from his empty eye socket. But still he kept up. Still he matched every one of their Risen kills with two of his own. He was Khan Regnant of Regna Ferox. Anything less from him would be an insult to his people and their proud warrior heritage.
He could almost hear Flavia laughing at him in the afterlife, and the thought brought a grin to his face. "Stupid old man. You just have to show that you can keep up with the kids, don't you?"
Their little group caught up with the rest of the Shepherds under Cynthia's command, the Deputy Wing-Commander watching the Honor Guard fight their way through the Risen with a manic grin on her face from the back of her mount. From everything Basilio had heard her older sister had constantly been the leader in the future; no doubt the girl was excited now she had the chance to show off. A small amount of the other Shepherds were already waiting, and they all began to advance once Basilio's group joined them.
"Looking a little winded there, old man," Inigo teased, his handsome face split by a grin. "Maybe you'd best stay behind the younger warriors, huh?"
"Even on your best day you couldn't match me," Basilio grunted. "Don't make me put you over my knee, little boy."
"I'd be careful, he might enjoy that," Kjelle laughed, earning a round of laughter from those present.
"Only if he were twenty years younger and a cute girl," Inigo added, to more laughter.
"Come on guys, almost there!" Cynthia urged. "Kjelle, Inigo, move up and support the Honor Guard! Libra, tend the wounded! Everyone else, get in there!"
A chorus of acknowledgements rang out, leaving Basilio and Idallia alone at the back of the formation. The older Khan grinned down at his younger counterpart, to which she sighed.
"I suppose it would be useless to suggest we follow at the rear?" she asked irritably.
"You're a Khan now, time to learn what that means," Basilio laughed.
He set off at a jog again, grinning madly as he pushed through the Ylisseans in his path. Idallia sighed, setting her face in a firm scowl before running to keep pace with the older man; Basilio knew that she hated that he was the only thing keeping her head attached to her neck, especially when she had to work so hard to keep him alive. But Idallia was a Khan of Regna Ferox now, too, and the people of the northern forests were a warrior race. She needed to exemplify that mindset as one of their leaders. In short, she had to fight.
Basilio burst through the Ylissean troops, laughing manically as he descended on the Risen in his path like a force of nature. Every swing of his axe was met with more clouds of purple-grey ashes, the younger soldiers and warriors struggling to keep up with him on his rampage. Idallia fought smarter, though, leapfrogging with the Shepherd units and utilizing her delicate rapier to great effect, taking advantage of any openings given to her. She killed far fewer of the creatures than even the most inexperienced members of the Honor Guard squads, but Basilio reasoned that at least it was a start.
Before much longer they came upon the palace, coming to a stop at the gates as Sumia and Virion's group came charging out of a back street, Frederick at their head.
"Ha! We win!" Cynthia cried triumphantly, striking a pose in her saddle as she brought her pegasus to earth between the groups.
"It wasn't a race, Cynthia," Sumia scolded gently.
"If it was we would've won," she giggled, dismounting.
Sumia gave her time traveler daughter a weak glare but remained silent, letting out a small relieved sigh as the rest of the Shepherds and Honor Guard began to crowd around at the gates to the palace. Basilio slowed, though, hanging back and glancing over his shoulder at the direction of the Mages' Tower. Something felt… off. He had no doubt that between Chrom and Robin they could handle anything up to and including another Grima, but still something nagged at the back of his mind. And he hadn't lived so long without listening to his instincts.
"What are you doing?" Idallia snapped, out of breath from the fighting.
"Something's bugging me," the old Khan muttered, his voice like distant thunder on the horizon.
"What should be bugging you is that they're over there deciding on the battle strategy to retake the Palace without us," Idallia said, straightening and taking a few deep, calming breaths.
"Girl, you don't get to be a Khan at my age without trusting your instincts and your gut," Basilio said absently, turning away. He'd made his decision.
He stomped quickly through the assembled soldiers, Idallia letting out another long sigh as she hurried to keep up with him, both of them coming to a stop before the Shepherds.
"Sumia! Can you take the Palace without us?" he asked indicating the small woman beside him.
"I… yes?" she said, quickly shooting Frederick a glance to confirm her answer.
"I got a feeling in my gut," Basilio explained. "The girl and I are gonna go help Robin."
"What, your old bum knee aching, too?" Cynthia teased with a grin.
"About as much as your head'll ache once I smack you upside it, girl," Basilio snorted. "Think that flying mule can carry us all to the Tower?"
Cynthia blinked, glancing at Palla and back a few times before nodding. "You're really serious?"
"Got an ache in my bum knee," the Khan said with a wink. "Always means trouble. They probably won't need us, but you definitely won't."
"Then go," Sumia said with a nod. "We'll send reinforcements as soon as we can."
"Don't bother," Basilio snickered, turning to Idallia. "With us going this'll be done before dinner. C'mon, girl. Keep up and pay attention. We're going to go do something stupid, just like a good Feroxi would."
The interior of the Mages' Tower was a mess of senseless violence and destruction, blood and ash coating everything. The once rich carpets of its audience hall had been burned away to the bare stone beneath, a sticky layer of blood cooked by the flames coating much of the floor and walls. However most disturbing was the fact that the hall had been totally devoid of bodies.
As the Shepherds, Chrom leading with a quick and heavy pace, picked their way carefully up the circular staircase that ran around the outside of the tower Robin, Tharja, Femi and Galle occasionally cast spells into open doorways full of Risen, their pace barely slowing. Their speed finally slackened as the group came to the first of the many open terraces around the outside of the tower on the fifth floor, spaces that had been used to conduct practical spell casting. Central to the tower were a series of classrooms facing the open-air terrace, classrooms that would usually be full of students at this time of day.
"There were close to seven hundred people in this tower, right?" Robin asked softly as they came into the sunlight.
"Yes," Tharja answered.
"Then where are they all?" Galle asked in his master's place.
"Do we really want to know?" Femi asked, a small waver in her voice.
"Ricken was here," Chrom said, his tone hopeful. "He wouldn't have just let these things take over. He's got to be holed up somewhere-"
"Beware!" Kowrowa warned, cutting Chrom off as his deep voice echoed around them.
Just as the word left his mouth a horde of Risen came tumbling down the stairs from above, more breaking down doors and windows of the interior classroom areas of the open floor to attack the Shepherds on the terrace. With a sinking feeling Robin spotted a number of the Risen-mages amongst the horde that had come in from the classrooms.
"Chrom, take the stairs!" Robin shouted. "Everyone else go with him! Kowrowa, Ita, Femi, back me up!"
The Dark Mage nodded, hurrying after Chrom and the other Shepherds following the Exalt. Arya gave a little squeak, shuffling back away from the charging Risen, but Robin slowed their advance with a lazy wind spell. Kowrowa and Ita followed the spell snarling and snapping in their wolf forms as they crashed into the horde of Risen. Femi hesitated for a moment, her face going pale as she struggled to decide how to approach the battle, but settled for casting small flux spells at the Risen on the periphery of the horde. The Dark Magic proved devastatingly effective against the creatures, her small spells dropping the Risen and emboldening the young mage apprentice.
Robin rolled out his neck, grinning as he loosened his sword in its sheathe and stepped towards the creatures, Arya hesitantly following with her dagger already in her hand. Still grinning Robin drew one of the daggers off the small of his back, tossing the weapon underhanded to the girl. She caught it, balancing the heavy knife that had once been Robin's first sword in one hand as her teacher began to charge at the Risen. With a weapon in each hand now Arya followed, doing her best to quell the terror she felt in the face of the Risen.
When the older tactician hit the faltering Risen horde he did so with more destructive force than the two shape shifters had, Risen flying away from his magically infused strikes as lightning flashed with each blow. Robin had been experimenting ever since he'd heard about what Galle had done with his tattoos, and had been practicing channeling weak lightning spells he knew by heart through his beautiful sword. The effect, against the weaker Risen at least, was incredible. The monsters fell three at a time with each swing, each flash of magic knocking more either into the path of Femi's spells or the two shape-shifters jaws. Arya, for her part, did her best to keep pace with her teacher, spinning and weaving the way that Olivia had taught her to, using her slight frame and natural agility to strike at the Risen that Robin missed and slowly gaining more confidence as she went. Of course, Robin was purposely letting some of the weaker creatures get past him so that Arya could gain a little more experience, but he'd never let her know that.
Almost two hundred Risen spewed from the classrooms, Robin and Kowrowa accounting for the majority of them. With a deep breath Robin watched as Ita tore into one of the last of the Risen from the side, the massive wolf shaking her head and giving a few sneezes as she got too close to the ashes. The two younger girls, Arya and Femi, both sagged now that the fighting was done, looking expectantly at the staircase to the next floor. At some point the sound of heavy wing-beats had joined the clamor near the stairs as Chrom and the others fought to push through to the next floor.
"Should we… go help them?" Arya asked.
Before Robin could answer Vaike let out a booming laugh, leaping from the back of Cherche's wyvern Minerva and hitting the crowd of Risen still on the stairs like a meteor. How the axeman had managed to convince Cherche to let him do that…
"I think they've got it under control," Robin shrugged. "Take five, drink some water, catch your breath. Ita, Kow! Any injuries?"
"These creatures are barely worth our time," the bigger of the two wolves spat, disgust radiating off him.
Ita sneezed again, growling as she pawed at her muzzle. "It's in my nose! I got one of them in my nose!"
"Yeah, they do that," Robin snickered.
The tactician watched as Ita tried to cough up the ashes she'd inhaled. One thing that the Shepherds had all learned fast was that you should hold your breath the moment that a Risen dissipated. The ashes smelt foul enough without inhaling them.
Three more of the Risen-students were lying among the ashes, Robin was sad to admit. He'd hoped to be able to save as many of the students as possible, but it was always hard to recue someone trying to kill you. Besides, he knew better than anyone that it was impossible to undo a Risen transformation; that was one of the biggest reasons he refused to use Grima's power, because as irrational as it was he was still afraid of becoming one of them.
Near the stairs Gaius let out a loud yelp as the Risen forced him into the railing of the terrace, the master thief quickly positioning himself away from the long drop back to ground level. Robin shook his maudlin thoughts from his head, focusing again on the task at hand.
"Come on, let's go save Gaius," he sighed, bouncing his sword on his shoulder 'Van-style' as he began to walk towards the melee.
With a few muttered words and a wave of her hand Emi sent five bolts of dark magic exploding against the Risen chasing Gaius, the thief sighing in relief before moving back to the rear of the Shepherds' formation.
"Do we get to rest a little longer now?" the young mage asked.
"Nope," Robin answered over his shoulder with a savage grin.
"I knew you'd say that," the young Dark Mage sighed, sagging a little further. Arya put a comforting hand on her shoulder as Robin turned to the two wolves sitting near them.
"Kowrowa, Ita, tear 'em up," he said. "We're right behind you. Girls, stay close to Tharja and Galle. We're pushing through to the next floor."
Kowrowa rose up, a chilling howl emanating from his muzzle before they took off at a speed that would have given even the fleet-footed Panne pause, leaping over the Shepherds and instantly turning the tide in their favor. Robin and the two girls ran forward, the tactician barely slowing as the other two stopped at the back of the formation. With a shout and a burst of wind magic Robin vaulted over his friends and landed behind the wolves. Sully and Vaike, the front-line with Chrom, looked startled for a moment, but the Exalt just gave a harsh laugh.
"What took you so long?" Chrom asked, falling in at Robin's shoulder.
"Oh, you know me, I have to make an entrance," Robin shrugged.
"More like you have to show off," Chrom laughed.
"The audience loves it, though," Robin smirked.
Their banter was cut off when a fresh wave of Risen from above arrived, Kowrowa and Ita backpedaling as Robin, Chrom, Vaike and Sully moved forward.
"Sully, with me; Chrom make sure Vaike doesn't get himself killed," Robin said quickly.
"Hoo-yeah, just like old times!" Vaike roared, grinning savagely.
"Think you can keep up?" Sully asked, smirking at Robin as she hefted the axe she'd exchanged her lance for.
Robin returned the smirk, gesturing without looking and sending a torrent of magical lightning up the stairs, incinerating the first rank of the Risen without any effort. "I could ask you the same thing."
"Oh it is on!" Sully declared, drawing her sword so she had a weapon in each hand.
The four Shepherds met the Risen charge, weathering the tide of blades and groaning creatures without breaking stride. Robin had had few opportunities to work with Sully directly, but she had always impressed him on the training ground. Even now, the way she ripped through the Risen effortlessly, her axe and sword both blurs in her experienced hands; so much so that Robin actually hung back as she and Vaike both pushed forward on the staircase.
It was no secret that a few of the more militaristic members of the Shepherds were envious of the Awakened powers that Robin and Chrom possessed. Their increased speed, strength and vitality would be the envy of any warrior, really. However the Shepherds were all friends, as well, and at worst their envy turned into excessive challenges on the training ground. That, and moments like these, as Vaike and Sully pulled ahead of Chrom and Robin, both veteran warriors fighting as if they had something to prove. The Exalt and the Tactician exchanged a glance, Robin grinning and giving a shrug.
In such close confines, where Chrom and Robin couldn't even close with the enemy around Sully and Vaike's wild swings, there was no real room for any technique to their fighting. Sully hacked and slashed with her twin weapons while Vaike swung his axe side to side, the two of them creating a wall of steel and flesh that the Risen couldn't overcome no matter how many of their number were thrown at the Shepherds as they advanced. So overwhelming was Sully and Vaike's charge that they single-handedly pushed through the Risen and up three more floors, coming out onto the next terraced level before finally stopping.
"Okay, those two are starting to make me feel bad," Robin admitted.
"Vaike, Sully, switch out!" Chrom called to them.
"I didn't mean I wanted to switch with them!" Robin groaned.
The Shepherds had made good time, nearing the top of the Tower now. Robin could still feel Clarus, like a lingering stink on the wind, above them. He could also still feel a great deal of Risen above them, too, something that shouldn't have been possible.
The other Shepherds spread out on the terrace behind them, forming a line around Sully and Vaike to protect Maribelle and the mages. Arya looked nervously to her teacher, but joined the line with Galle all the same.
"You know what I don't get?" Robin said conversationally as he and Chrom stepped past Vaike and Sully. "How do these people summon so many Risen? Honestly, if I tapped every ounce of Grima's power left even I couldn't summon this many."
"You can summon Risen?" Chrom asked curiously.
"Really? That's what you're going to take away from what I just said?" Robin asked.
The next wave of Risen rushed forward, Robin and Chrom stepping to meet them. They continued to talk as they fought, though, putting in far less effort than Vaike and Sully had been forced to.
"Seriously, though," Chrom went on, skewering one Risen and turning the blow into an arc that killed several more. "You can actually summon these things?"
"It's incredibly unpleasant, but I'm sure I could, yes," Robin sighed, side-stepping a blow from an axe and turning the weapon's wielder into a pile of ash with the tip of his rapier. "Not important right now. Focus, Chrom."
"Okay, so they have something powering them," the Exalt said noncommittally as he spun, blue flames flickering in the tear-drop shaped gap in Falchion's hilt. "It's still above us, yes? We get up there, kill Clarus and destroy whatever's powering him and these Risen."
"You make it sound so easy," Robin sighed, lashing out with a kick at a hulking, sword-wielding Risen before running it through. "Problem is we don't know what it is giving them power."
Chrom opened his mouth to respond but faltered, his eyes widening as he took a step backwards. "What… what in Naga's name is that?"
Robin glanced up at the stairs to the next floor, freezing now himself. The Risen all backed off, letting out a raspy, unified roar as something huge came out of the shadows of the staircase. The monstrosity resembled the centaurs that showed up in myths and fairy tales, but taken from the deranged nightmares of a madman instead. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a moose from the forests outside of Ylisstol had impaled a Risen-infected mage on its antlers, but as Robin reluctantly looked closer he could tell they had been somehow combined. The moose's dark brown fur had gone black as if it had rotted, large patches missing and showing great red weeping sores along its flanks and legs. The remains of what had clearly once been one of the students in the tower lolled brokenly atop the moose's neck, its arms draped macabrely through the creature's great antlers. However, the top of the moose's head had been removed, the creature's lower jaw roughly sutured to the student's unhealthy, naked grey torso and the young man's legs simply missing at hips which were sunken into the moose's back. As it reached the terrace the Risen-mage turned its lolling head to Robin and Chrom, its dead eyes lighting up a baleful red as it stretched its slack mouth into a disgusting smile.
"Robin, kill it," Chrom said urgently. "Kill it. Kill it now!"
The Tactician couldn't answer, though, stumbling and holding a hand to his mouth. He gave up trying to keep it in, vomiting on the stones at his feet.
"Robin!?" Chrom asked.
The creature was giving off the same, concentrated aura of Grima's magic that Clarus had, and it was making Robin sick. No doubt behind him the rest of the mages were in a similar state, too. With great effort Robin cut himself off from the mana lines beneath Ylisstol, from the mana in the air and even from the odic energy within himself, forcing a deep breath before straightening.
"Sorry, Chrom, we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way," he said, his voice weak. "Everyone else keep the Risen off of us. We'll handle the… big ugly thing."
The big Risen-mage thing stepped forward with a shudder, seeming to understand Robin's words as a challenge. It smiled, its slack mouth pulling back to reveal rows of broken, flat teeth randomly broken up by pointed fangs.
"Ooh, that's going to give me nightmares," Robin muttered as he and Chrom stepped forward.
"You sure you can handle this?" Chrom asked as both men edged forward. He shot Robin a concerned look out of the corner of his eye, leery of taking his gaze off the Risen before them.
Robin shrugged. "Don't have much choice, do we?"
With a muted roar the Risen flooded around the abominable mage-moose hybrid, the Shepherds stepping to meet them. An empty space was left, though, as Robin and Chrom squared off with what was clearly giving the weaker Risen their will to fight. It had been a long time since Robin had faced down a Chieftain of any variety, and still he couldn't shake the memory of the one that had stomped on his chest during their first skirmish, so many years ago now. It didn't help that this one, in particular, took the prize for 'most horrifying Risen creation', either.
With a great, throaty bellow the creature charged, Robin and Chrom both leaping to the side to escape its path. Where Robin focused solely on evasion Chrom brought his sword up, the blessed steel carving a deep furrow through the Risen's flank before it sent Chrom reeling with a shake of its massive antlers. Worse, the blood that fell from the creature onto the stones began to hiss and sizzle, eating into the worn stone balcony and eliciting more groans from Robin and Chrom as the Exalt shook the acidic blood from his sacred sword.
"You have got to be kidding," Chrom groaned, shaking his head.
By way of answer the Chieftain let out another deep, honking roar as it charged at Chrom, Robin racing after it as he slid his sword back into its sheathe. As beautiful and well-made as the blade was his rapier was just a mundane weapon. But the lone dagger still sheathed at his back, the dark blade Raziel that he'd used to kill Maris, was just like Falchion. In that it was nigh-on indestructible.
With a roar of his own Robin spun low, lashing out at the Chieftain's tendons on its back legs. The ancient dagger, almost the length of Robin's forearm, bit deep and severed the thick flesh, but the Chieftain didn't slow, simply kicking out at Robin and continuing its charge. The Tactician arrested his own movement, throwing himself backwards onto his rear with a startled yelp as a massive hoof passed inches from his face. He rolled, attempting to avoid the splattering of acid blood that followed the beast's blow, dodging aside as the droplets pattered harmlessly onto the hem of his enchanted coat.
"If that stains I'm going to be very upset!" Robin shouted indignantly as he leapt back to his feet.
"I think we have more important issues right now!" Chrom shouted, diving aside to narrowly avoid being impaled on the Chieftain's antlers.
The Exalt let out a startled shout as one of the Chieftain's human hands, which had so far been dangling limply atop the antlers, shot out and grabbed a bunch of his cape near his shoulder. With a yank the Risen dragged the surprised Exalt before it, directly in the path of its heavy hooves. Robin saw this and sighed, tossing his dagger up and catching it by the tip of the blade. With practiced, sure motions he threw the ancient weapon with all his strength, the spinning blade embedding itself in the Chieftain's human neck in a torrent of black blood. Chrom rolled clear just as the burning viscera landed where he'd been lying, rolling back to his feet with a particularly savage look on his face. The Chieftain, for its part, let out a particularly human-sounding shriek of pain as it clawed at the dagger in its neck, pulling it out and tossing it aside, the weapon now coated in acid blood and totally unusable for Robin.
"I take it back," the tactician mumbled, drawing his sword. "That's what's going to give me nightmares."
"Less talking more killing!" Chrom snapped. "Why aren't you using magic!?"
"Hey, there's a person attached to this spellbook, thank you!" Robin huffed. "And I'll have you know its not quite as easy as wave your hands and bang! There's something-"
Robin stopped talking as both men were forced to dive aside again, the Risen Chieftain charging once more. Robin sprang back up, straightening his coat before brushing the hair from his face.
"Something here that's polluting the mana," he continued. "It's making all of the mages sick, and I'm sure it's what turned the students here into Risen."
"How are we supposed to kill it if we can't-" Chrom started.
"Death from above!"
Both men looked up as a massive form came streaking down from the sky, Basilio driving his axe into the Chieftain's high back and severing its spine in a gout of acidic black blood. The Khan looked forlornly at the ruins of his axe as it melted in his hands, sighing and tossing the mangled weapon aside. Behind him Cynthia came in for a perfect landing on her pegasus, Idallia shakily slipping from its back before she urged the mount forward, passing Robin and Chrom in a flash and burying her lance in the Chieftain's human back before taking to the sky again, leaving her weapon embedded in the Risen and melting. Cordelia and Cherche chose that moment to make their appearance, passing by Cynthia and both striking the Chieftain from their mounts as they flew past to engage the other smaller Risen.
"Like that," Basilio said over the Chieftain's pained wails. "That's how you kill it."
"Impressive, but it's not dead yet," Robin deadpanned.
"I can fix that," Chrom growled, hefting Falchion and stepping forward.
The Exalt's beautiful silver armor had been marred by the creature's blood, burned through in places to the blue tunic and leathers beneath it. Chrom ignored the armor, simply yanking a clasp free and letting the breastplate fall off of him. He stopped next to the writing form of the Chieftain and lifted Falchion before bringing it down like an executioner's axe, severing the Risen's head and stepping aside to avoid more of the black blood.
"That was so cool, Dad!" Cynthia called from above them. "But I promised Mom I'd be right back, so…"
"Go then," Chrom called to her, looking up with a small paternal smile on his face. "We can manage. Don't keep your mother waiting."
Cynthia saluted cockily before digging her heels into her mount's sides and yanking on the reins, taking off for the palace like a loosed arrow. Chrom shook his head, his smile not abating as he flicked the toxic blood off of his blade once more.
Behind him Robin was squatting down near where Raziel had fallen, eying the dagger warily.
"How am I supposed to… pick it up? Do you think I could wash it off with water?"
"Probably," Chrom said distractedly, glancing over the man's head as he fiddled with the straps to his pauldrons. The other Shepherds were just about finished with the Risen now that Cordelia and Cherche had joined them, allowing the two leaders a brief respite. Chrom dropped the gauntlet and pauldron off his sword arm but opted to leave the pauldron and gauntlet on his off-hand, opening and closing his fist a few times as if he missed the feel of the Shield of Seals on his arm.
Basilio came strutting up, a flustered Idallia following close behind.
"That was a mighty stupid thing to do, jumping from a flying pegasus like that," Robin said with a grin.
"Yeah, apparently that's the second time someone's done that to her," Basilio laughed. "Thought you kids might need some help."
Robin and Chrom both glanced at Idallia, the merchant-Khan frowning under their gazes.
"I see you brought the cavalry," Robin deadpanned, looking back down to his knife.
Quirking his head he upended his waterskin on it, shaking the last drops out of it as a sizzling cloud of steam rose from the weapon. With tentative movements he took the weapon into his hand, bouncing it up and down in his palm as if it were on fire. After a few moments when his hand didn't start to melt Robin gripped the dagger properly. A slight tingling in the skin on his fingers was all he felt, and with a nod he returned the weapon to its sheathe. Behind them the Shepherds were just finishing up with the last of the Risen, Maribelle stepping forward to treat the wounded. Robin was a little concerned to see Tharja sway drunkenly until Arya caught her, lending the older woman her shoulder as Femi looked on with barely concealed fear.
"What's the plan?" Basilio asked seriously.
"Find you a weapon now that you've wrecked your axe," Robin deadpanned.
Basilio barked out a laugh, pounding his fists together and flexing his massive arms. "Boy, I am the weapon. Wouldn't be the first time I've beaten a tower full of idiots to death with my bare hands. At least I'm wearing pants this time."
"Oh that is so gross," Robin groaned.
Behind the Khan Idallia wrinkled her face in disgust, subtly scooting away from the old man.
"Ricken is somewhere in the tower," Chrom explained, clearly trying not to laugh. "Clarus, one of the Professors, went rogue and did… all of this. We find him, I'm pretty sure we'll find Ricken and the other students."
"And then we stab him," Robin added.
"I like that plan," Basilio guffawed.
"Please tell me there's more to it that just 'waltz in and stab the evil mage'," Idallia sighed, rubbing her temples.
"No, that's pretty much it," Robin shrugged. "We've done all the hard work. All that's left is to finish the boss."
"I think you mean 'we' did all the hard work!" Galle called, indicating himself and the other Shepherds. "You just stood around talking! Sir!"
"I trained him so well," Robin deadpanned.
Galle let out a little grunt as Maribelle knocked him in the back of the head with the top of her staff. "Hold still while I'm healing you," she said shortly, shaking her head as she continued to work on a gash Galle had taken to the side of his head. Robin couldn't help but grin; usually it was him that got smacked on the head with a staff.
"Take heart, friends!" Chrom called to the Shepherds, stepping past Robin. "We're almost there! Soon we will root this Risen infestation out at the source and rescue our homes!"
Robin rolled his eyes as a cheer went up from the Shepherds; leave it to Chrom to always play the inspirational leader for the troops.
"Cordelia, Cherche, I think this is the last open terrace," Robin said, approaching the two mounted women. "Can you leave your mounts here? I get the feeling we're going to need all the bodies we can get for this one."
Cordelia nodded once, dismounting without comment and smiling at Robin as she leaned on her lance. Cherche frowned, clearly not as happy with the idea as her counterpart, but dismounted all the same. Minerva let out a crooning warble, and Cherche reached up with one hand to stroke the large wyvern's neck.
"It's only for a little while," she promised the wyvern. "Watch our backs, okay?"
Minerva seemed to shoot a withering glare at Robin as the two women moved to fall in with the rest of the Shepherds, but Robin just shrugged. There was no way he was about to apologize to a flying lizard, adorable and cuddly as it was. He fell in with a pale Tharja as they began to ascend again, giving her a worried look.
"You okay?" he asked softly, so the nearby Arya and Femi didn't hear.
"I will be fine," Tharja muttered, downing a stimulant in one gulp before continuing. "This power is… stifling. I'm already adapting. How are you coping?"
"I shut down my magic," Robin shrugged, before adding "I couldn't handle it anymore anyway."
Tharja nodded, taking a deep breath and quickening her stride, forcing herself to return the aura of confidence she usually projected. Both Femi and Arya jumped a little as she brushed between them, the younger girls fairly quaking at Tharja's passing. Robin just grinned and shook his head. Any chance to stroke her own ego. She really was no better than Aversa, just quieter.
The Shepherds charged up the final floors, emboldened by the death of the abominable Risen Chieftain and the piecemeal resistance that they faced along the way. Still, though, they hadn't come across any living students or faculty, and the thought made Robin more than a little nervous. He knew better than anyone that Grimleal magic was maleficarum, blood magic requiring human life to fuel it.
"Tharja, what's on the top floor?" he asked as they ran.
"An observatory," she answered, slightly out of breath. "And yes, it is more than big enough to hold all the residents of the Tower."
Robin nodded, grinning slightly at the way she had pre-empted him. Even after all this time she still knew how he thought.
The last several floors passed in a blur, the Shepherds exploding out onto the wide and open floor of the Observatory level at the very top of the tower, a cold wind blowing through the space at such a high altitude. There were no walls, only large stone pillars carved from the local rocks to hold up the conical roof. Numerous desks and other instruments had been shattered or kicked aside by the Risen, unceremoniously taking over the floor.
The Shepherds stopped as one, slowing with widening eyes as they stepped from the staircase. There, standing in the center of the floor surrounded by the remaining students and teachers on their knees, was Clarus and another younger man.
"Exalt Chrom!" Ricken called, looking up.
Robin's first thought was that the skinny young mage had gotten much taller. His second was concern, seeing the dark purple bruising all along the side of his face as he gazed hopefully up at the new arrivals.
Clarus glanced at the young man, quirking a brow and waving a lazy hand. Ricken let out a loud shriek, falling forward onto his hands and knees as smoke rose from his flesh.
"Well," Clarus drawled. "You managed to get past Galuc. Congratulations are in order."
Chrom stepped forward, warily eyeing the students whimpering on their knees as they kept their eyes at the floor, a few of the braver ones looking at the panting Ricken where he was glaring up at Clarus from beneath his fringe. Aside from the other young man standing next to him, a young man who looked wholly free of Grima's taint, Clarus was alone on this floor. No Risen, no more of the Risen infested mages, no more abominations. Robin doubted it would be this easy, but still he silently hoped.
"That… thing," Chrom said, his strong voice carrying. "That was one of the students?"
"Ah, yes, Galuc," Clarus said, smiling jovially as he clapped his hands together. "He was one of my apprentices, actually. I had three, you know. That Rommel bastard killed one of them. Galuc, he assisted in our experiments. My third, my protégé, is Alvidian here."
The young man next to him nodded, smiling proudly.
"You would create such a… an abomination from one of your own apprentices?" Chrom asked dangerously.
"I see you're upset by this," Clarus remarked, cocking his head as if confused. "If it helps, he was long dead before the experiment."
"No it does not!" Chrom thundered, Falchion blazing in his grip. "This is my city, and these are my people! I will let you profane them no longer!"
"No, it won't take much longer," Clarus said calmly. "Will it Alvidian?"
"No, Master, it won't," the mage apprentice said softly.
Before anyone else could act the young man drew a dagger from his robes and ran the knife across his throat. The nearby students screamed and began falling over themselves trying to get away as Alvidian fell to his knees, blood gushing down his chest as he gave a gurgling gasp. Red lines flared to life on the floor of the Observatory, the students' panic rising as the last of the staff struggled to control them.
"Kill him!" Chrom roared, charging forward.
The others let out enraged war cries as they charged at Maris, Ita and Kowrowa's howls adding to the cacophony as they bounded ahead of the slower bipedal Shepherds. For their part Maribelle, Olivia and Gaius began to usher the students down the stairs. Ricken rose up, too, the boy indeed having grown much taller since Robin had last seen him, and began to cast simple spells by memory, the way that Robin always had.
Clarus looked almost bored by all of the chaos around him. He raised his hand, and a number of the students still standing on the magic circle dropped, quickly turning to dust in their robes. Ricken saw this happening and managed to jump clear just in time, but still at least thirty were caught by the spell, only fueling the Shepherds' rage. Just as Kowrowa leapt to snap Clarus' neck in his jaws the mage glanced up and swatted the big wolf aside with the back of his hand. Beneath him the glow intensified and a wave of energy swept the charging Shepherds back.
"Fascinating," Clarus muttered, stepping towards the fallen Kowrowa. "I once had the pleasure of dissecting one of the conies. A Taguel shapeshifter, much like yourself. Before they went extinct. I wonder… how will this power react with you?"
Kowrowa reared up, twisting and snapping at Clarus again, but his moves were desperate now as he tried to get away. At any other time a horse-sized wolf fleeing in terror from a small human might have been amusing, but Robin felt nothing but terror at the sight.
"Kowrowa get away from him!" Robin called out.
Ita gave a wordless roar of rage as she tried to save her friend, throwing herself futilely against the spell Clarus was using to keep them at bay.
"Yes," Clarus nodded, grabbing Kowrowa by the throat. "You're just what I needed. Thank you. I will ensure I mention your contribution when the stories of this moment are told."
With a sickening crack Clarus jerked his arm, twisting Kowrowa's head at an odd angle, and tossing him bodily to where his apprentice's corpse still lay.
"And so begins the new world order!" Clarus declared, stepping back into the middle of the magic circle. "I will rewrite this world with this new power, and those that do not submit will be eradicated! Rejoice, brave Shepherds, for you shall be among the first to receive the master's blessing!"
Robin shook his head, took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let go.
All of the carefully crafted mental walls, all of the protective wards he'd woven around his soul over the years, everything. And all at once Grima's power came flooding back to him. With an enraged snarl falling from his lips Robin stole control of the spell from a shocked Clarus, inverting it and looking for somewhere, somewhere to release the power where it wouldn't hurt anyone.
No, not in Ylisse… this much Grimleal magic would create fallout lasting generations…
He couldn't release it over the sea, Gods only knew what it would do to the islands and coastal regions…
Not in the sky, either, where it would rain back down on the earth…
Somewhere…
Somewhere already broken…
Somewhere that no one would suffer for it…
Robin's eyes widened as his magical senses found just such a place, dark energy causing the orbs to turn a depthless black in their sockets as he grinned.
"There," was all he said, the word dripping with satisfaction.
And in a bright flash of light the top floor of the Mages' Tower, and everyone on it, disappeared from Ylisstol.
AN: Ugh, I felt silly just writing 'mage-moose-hybrid'. But… Ha hah! Finally! We're finally moving on to the Future of Despair DLC! Two years later! *manic laughter* This chapter ran a little long, but I was determined to move on to the next part of the story already. Wrote most of this chapter to the Nier: Automata soundtrack. Such an amazing soundtrack, an even more amazing game.
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