Stood atop a hill, Validar watched the village burn. A symphony of screams and wailing reached his ears, and a breeze carried the scent of smoke over the dry field. He hummed, a pleased smile tugging at his lips.

As he had expected, his Plegian forces were swift to sweep through the village, exterminating all who stood in their path. What little resistance the band of smugglers, convicts, and swindlers could offer was nothing compared to the might of his soldiers, and when combined with his flawless strategy? Well, safe to say, they stood no chance.

Any second now, his men would return, reporting that they'd eradicated the last survivors. Not a single man, woman, or child was to be left alive, not after all the trouble they'd caused him by hiding her in their midst. It was only fair.

"Mother! Mother, help me!"

And speak of the devil. Validar's lips peeled back, revealing just a bit of the grin he held within. He heard a thud behind him, then a hiss. He didn't need to turn around to know she was behind him.

He turned anyway, if only so she could see his victorious smile. Aria knelt before him, her hands tied behind her, her dark hair damp with sweat, her clothes riddled with gashes and stained with red as she took in one ragged breath after another. She looked like a disobedient servant whipped into submission.

Her brown eyes held none of the same weariness. They practically simmered, boiling water beneath a lid, conveying her contempt far better than any words ever could. Even on her knees, she was ever the tireless woman he had known her as.

Validar lifted his gaze from her, and his eyes fell on the guard behind her.

"You may leave us alone," Validar commanded.

"As you command."

Validar noted the unease set on the man's jaw, and his eyes narrowed. As he turned to leave, Validar committed the shape of his face, the way he spurred his legs into action, the way his eyes flickered back to him, all to memory. His unease conveyed weak loyalty, something that would have to be rooted out one way or another.

As the guard disappeared, Validar kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. Not once did he stop to acknowledge the woman in front of him, even as he strode past her. Aria, on the other hand, could never seem to keep her eyes off him, as if she aimed to blast him full of dark magic.

The foolish woman.

"The sunset," he said, deciding he'd let the silence hang for too long. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"I'm sure it's not as beautiful as you believe it to be," Aria snapped.

Validar chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that. You are simply blind to the true scale of its greatness."

"It's not that. It might be every bit as incredible as you claim it to be. Only your presence drains any beauty in that, and I'd prefer if I didn't have to stare at an ugly shriveled husk in my last moments."

The remark passed him by without so much a twitch. Why would it? They were but the desperate words of someone clinging onto what little life remained.

"How galling," Validar said. "To think you used to have such a way with words. Perhaps then your dying breath would not be such a waste."

The grass crunched underfoot as he finally faced her. Her gaze was turned the other way, her face glowing in the soft light of the evening.

"Your magic abilities have diminished as well. Look at you, battered and bruised before your better. A remnant of the powerful woman I was proud to have by my side all those years ago." He raised his hand to the back of her head, a sickly purple hue emanating from within. "How far the mighty have fallen indeed. Motherhood has made you weak."

"A remnant I may be, but at least I have the one thing you're after."

Aria's words made him pause. "Which is?" Validar asked, though he knew what she would say.

"My son."

"You had him. You stole him. I've reclaimed what is mine."

"Have you?" Aria laughed dryly. Validar's eyes narrowed. He should have ended this farce before it even had a chance to begin. Yet perhaps the ramblings of the woman before him would prove entertaining.

The glint in her eyes said she was far from done. "I've spent every day of his life with him. Taking care of him, feeding him."

"Unimportant details, the weakness of man."

"That may be, but if you kill me, the only thing he'll learn is to despise you."

"The vessel need not be willing for the ritual to be successful."

"Robin is but a child. His body is frail, his magical prowess next to none. Would you dare disrespect your lord with such a weak body?"

Validar stepped closer and clenched his fist, the dark magic gathered between his fingertips begging for release. "The only redeeming quality of mortal men is that they strengthen with age. I'd have thought such a rudimentary fact would not have slipped your mind, but you are far beyond the woman worthy of your honor."

All it would take would be for him to raise his hand and unleash it. The dark energy would sear through her body, straight through flesh, leaving dark, purple trails behind. A terrified expression frozen on her face, finally broken under sheer force.

"Honor is the last thing I'd call it," Aria spat. "Robin may grow stronger in body, but he will also grow stronger in mind. As he matures, that mind will grow to stand against you, perhaps even strong enough to stand against the Fell Dragon."

"Then your efforts shall be for naught. I–"

"You'll what, brainwash him?" Even bound as she was, Aria managed to twist her body to face him, a defiant snarl marring her beautiful face. "I've stood at your right hand before. I know you haven't finished that spell, and I know it is impossible to cast without decimating the target's mind. And you wouldn't want that, would you? No, nothing less than perfection for that damned lizard."

A face came to mind. A girl. Dark skin, white hair. Her lips pulled up in an utterly pitiful look of affection.

He knelt, meeting Aria's burning gaze at an even level. His hand reached up to cup her face, a radiant shade of pink in the remaining sunlight. She was too tired to pull away.

"My everlasting flame," he cooed. "You're such a... a perceptive, cunning, beautiful..."

A burst of dark magic tore from his hands, gushing out in a torrent of blistering heat.

"Idiot."

The body hit the grass with a thud. Validar stood over it, smoke trailing from his hand, his face twisted into a smile. Reaching down, he blasted it with a second burst of magic, then a third, until all that remained could barely be called human.

Strangely enough, staring down at what could only be described as ash, Validar reflected that it hadn't been as satisfying as he'd thought.

Still, he thought as he turned his back to the flames in the distance, she has a point. That whelp was a lucky exception. It was a miracle she got through almost completely unscathed.

As he made his way back to the Plegians waiting for him below, Validar heard the boy's cries for his mother grow louder. His voice was all so grating on his ears, and when the boy froze the second he saw him, Validar let a sneer show on his face.

Strong willed, huh? He calls for his mother like any other child. I suppose I'll have to invest a little more in this one.

"Come, boy," he said. "Let's head home."

"Did you see that? Did you see that? I saved you, Uncle Robin!"

"That you did, Luci."

Lucina paused, an elixir bottle held in her hands, and her face fell into an expression with all the seriousness a six-year-old girl could muster. "What did I save you from, anyway?" she asked.

Robin peeked at her from around the pile of weapons in his arms. "Well, you saved me from having to clean elixir off the floor, for one."

"Oh!" Lucina's face brightened. "Then... can I have something too? Cause whenever the hero saves the princess, he always gets something back to show her 'preciation."

"Then what do you want, my little knight in shining armor?" Robin said. "Would you like some of the dragon's gold? Or maybe a kiss?"

Lucina pouted. "No! I want a caramel."

"A caramel?" Uncle Robin craned his head over the towering metal mass. "Well, as luck would have it, I have some in my pocket."

"Then give it!" After a moment's pause, she added, "Please?"

"Not when my hands are full."

"But when you put those down?"

"Then I'll give it to you."

Lucina's lips tugged up into a grin. "Okay then! Let's go!"

She spun on her heel and started down the hall. Behind her, Uncle Robin cleared his throat, and when she stopped to look at him, he smiled.

"Luci. I'm headed the other way."

"Oh. Right!"

Lucina sprinted after Uncle Robin, her elixir bottle leading the way. With Robin in tow, she ran through the halls of Ylisstol Castle, turning corners and ducking through confused maids and butlers until she found herself running out of steam.

"Uncle... huff... Robin?" she said, stopping to catch her breath. "Where are we going? This... huff... isn't where we keep all the swords."

"You're right," he replied. "That's because these are special weapons that need to go somewhere else."

Shifting the weight in his arms, he turned so that she could look at one of the weapons: a steel lance. Or, at least it looked like a steel lance, but when Lucina looked closer, she noticed the tip was covered in a faint yellow glow.

"Wow! That's... huff... so cool!" she said.

"Isn't it?" Robin grinned, and he lifted the pile of weapons back up. "Would you like to stop for a bit?"

"No! I can... huff... I can keep going!"

"Luci, you shouldn't have to push yourself, especially not for something as trivial as this. Please, sit down."

"But–"

"No buts. Sit."

Lucina wanted to argue further. Frustration tickled her lips, but with a huff, she let it go. Lucina plopped herself down at the foot of a great big tree.

And that's when she noticed that there was a great big tree behind her.

"Hey! When did this tree appear?"

Laughter bubbled behind Uncle Robin's smile. "It's been here before you were born. Before your father was born, even."

"Really? It must be super old, then!"

"It is." Uncle Robin's eyes trailed up the tree, from the roots to the branches at the top reaching for the sky. "Your father claims that your Aunt Emmeryn often sat beneath this very tree whenever she was troubled."

"Wow!" Lucina patted down the grass around the tree, an expression of awe on her face as if the ground had turned to gold. When she looked back up at Robin, her eyes sparkled. "Uncle Robin? What was Aunt Emmeryn like? Father has told me a lot, but I want to hear what you know of her as well."

"I see." Uncle Robin laughed, this time sounding a little more nervous. "Well, I didn't know her for long, so I can't say much." When he noticed Lucina's face fall, he quickly added, "That's not to say I know nothing about her!"

"What can you tell me, then?" Lucina asked.

"If there was one thing I could say about her, your Aunt Emmeryn was loved by her people. Everyone in Ylisse knew of her boundless patience and kindness. No matter how much someone wronged her, she always found it in herself to forgive."

"Aw. That's boring."

"I'd disagree." At Lucina's confused expression, he said, "What would you do if someone hit you in the face?"

"I'd punch them back!" Lucina said proudly.

"Then could you imagine not being able to punch them back, no matter how hard you wanted to? That's what Emmeryn had to do every time anyone did anything bad to her."

"What? Why?"

Robin knelt down to meet Lucina, eye to eye. "Because as much as people love her now, when Emmeryn started her rule, the kingdom of Ylisse was falling apart. She needed to prove to her people that she was strong, or we would have no more castle. So when people started trying to attack her, she could either punch back, or she could refuse to, no matter how much people tried to get her to punch back."

Lucina frowned. "Wouldn't it be easier to just punch back?"

"It would. Which was why she didn't."

Lucina's eyes widened, and realization began to set in. She opened her mouth to speak when, to her left, Lucina heard something scratch against the stone.

She blinked, and suddenly, she realized how blurry everything was. Lucina tried to stand, but all she felt was air beneath her feet. In her ears, the scratching disappeared, replaced by a faint ringing.

She blinked again. And the world flooded back to her.

The world smelled like a drenched rag. As what little light in the room filtered in through her bleary eyes, the back of her head pulsed painfully. Lucina reached up to rub the back of her head, combing her fingers through strands of her straight blue hair until the pain began to fade.

Then everything came rushing back to her.

Lucina jerked back, eyes wide, only for her head to slam into the stone wall behind her. The pain at the back of her head surged, and her hands found their way around her skull as she groaned.

She slid back against the wall, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. The last thing she remembered was having her face slammed into the dirt. As she tried to get the ringing in her head to fade, she noted with a small degree of disappointment that this was the second time she'd fallen unconscious.

I hope this doesn't become a running theme, she thought. How can I save my father if I spend half my time lying dazed in a gutter?

Aside from the earth-shattering headache she was currently nursing and the nasty gash in her leg, the pegasus knights seemed to have left her unharmed. From the bandage wrapped around her thigh, someone at least had the courtesy of tending to her wounds, thank Naga for the small mercies. Without a nice lady by her side to tell her where she was, though, she was a little more helpless than she'd like to admit.

Her stomach growled, and she was reminded of the supper she never had.

Staving off her growing irritation, Lucina peered through the iron bars cut into her cell door, just in time to catch a familiar flash of red.

Aunt Cordelia? That was her first thought, one that she shook off a second later. If Robin was but a child, that meant that Aunt Cordelia was too, and she would at least hope a child would have no place in such a filthy place.

Curious, Lucina made her way over to the door. Her fingers grasped the bars, and she peeked outside. Again, she heard the faint scratching sound, the same sound that had awoken her, and as she glanced down the hall, she found the source to be a straw broom sweeping over the floor. Hunched over it was a man, his flaming red hair standing out against the ratty clothes on his back.

He must be a servant, Lucina surmised. He probably knows nothing of value, so trying to pry answers from him won't be worth my time. She paused. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask where am I, could it?

Pulling herself up to stand a little straighter, Lucina cleared her throat. "Excuse me, sir. Do you know where we are?"

"You're in Ylisstol Castle," the servant replied, not even bothering to turn around. "The dungeons, if you want to be a bit more precise."

"The dungeon?" Lucina's lips pulled down, and her eyes fell to the floor, covered in dirt and grime. "No, that can't be right. Ylisstol Castle doesn't have a dungeon."

That got the man to stop. Turning to look at her over his shoulder, he said, "Does it now?"

Lucina winced. "I mean, I've never heard of a dungeon in Ylisstol Castle. Surely you must be mistaken."

"Not many people know about this place, so you wouldn't be the first to deny it." The man sighed. "These cells don't see much recent use, anyway. Exalt Alabaster was not a man to let an issue stand idle, and he was quick to sort through his work. Either he found you innocent within a day and set you free, or he didn't, in which case..." The man drew his thumb over his neck, and Lucina shivered at the implication.

"Whatever his verdict may be, no one ever spent more than a day in here, so there were many who gave this place much mind." Then the man's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this, but he is no longer with us. Your fate is not in his hands, but the hands of his daughter."

"Well, that's a relief," Lucina muttered.

She must not have been quiet enough, for the man lifted his head in her direction. "And what makes you say that?"

"From what you tell me, this 'Exalt Alabaster' is hardly a sound judge. His daughter will be more forgiving, I hope."

"Yes, yes." The man's mouth stretched into a thin line. "But if you're wrong–if the girl is anything like her father–I suppose you won't live long enough after that to worry about it, would you?"

Lucina's stomach lurched, horrified at the thought. Her Aunt Emmeryn, sentencing her to death? That was absurd!

"No, she's not like that!" When his suspicious glare landed on her, she winced again. "At least, that's what I hear."

The man stared at her long and hard. Every second she spent under his blazing red eyes, she could feel another bead of sweat break out, until finally, he broke eye contact with the spin of his heel.

"I wouldn't count on it," he said.

And with that, he strode out of sight, his shoes clicking loudly against the stone floor. As Lucina watched his shadow vanish, her legs gave out, and she slid against the door. Her hands flew to her neck, and she suddenly felt a little less secure about its place on her shoulders.

That servant is wrong, she told herself. Aunt Em would never order an execution. She has to prove her strength to keep Ylisse together. She won't punch back. Right?

I was actually really busy last week, and I couldn't find anywhere to fit writing in my schedule. Also, I just didn't feel like doing it, so there's that. In the end, I did manage to get something out, so I'm happy with that.

I'm surprised, I managed to hold out on the flashbacks for this long. The original story was littered with them, which probably did a lot more harm than help. It's not as if there was anywhere to fit them aside from here.

The beginning of next week is looking a little hectic, so I might not be able to update next Tuesday as well. Still, I can dream, can't I? Until then, I wish you all well, and stay safe!