Lucina had buried many people in her time. Laurent had always insisted it was a waste of time and called her foolish, but it did not feel right to leave the bodies of their dear friends and comrades out to rot.

On a good day, they could dig shallow graves in the first field they found. More often than not, however, they could offer the dead nothing more than a large pit to dump them all in.

It was during times like these that the Shepherds looked to her for hope, for the assurance that all this misery and death meant something. And she had told them, time and time again, that they would make things right–that once they had reached the past, everything would be better.

Staring down at Anna's body as the gravedigger filled in the last of the graves beside the town, she had to wonder if she could still convince herself that was true.

It was the first burial she'd overseen since coming back, and yet it was so much like the countless others she had ordered back in the future that, were it not for Anna's daughters silently watching beside her, she could believe that nothing had changed at all.

As the gravedigger finally moved to cover Anna's grave, Lucina glanced around, and for the first time, she noticed how empty it was. There were a few others standing around, mourning their own loved ones, but there was almost no one at Anna's grave. The Annas were vast and powerful as they were wealthy, but no one truly knew the Secret Seller, so no one would come to say goodbye.

Lucina never thought she would feel sorry for the greedy merchant.

And yet here she was.

At last, the gravedigger shoveled the last of the dirt onto the hole, filling it up completely. He pat the top of the grave once, then he left.

Lucina waited a minute more, before she turned to Anna's daughters.

She hadn't known Anna–at least, not as well as she'd thought–so awkward could not begin to describe what she felt, watching Anna's daughters stand around the mound of dirt that marked her grave. At the top was a wooden post with the name, "Anna," scrawled onto it–the town's cleric had been kind enough to offer them that much, along with her condolences.

Now, the five of them stood alone. The girls shuffled uncomfortably around, no one sure what to do.

So Lucina cleared her throat. "Do any of you have anything?"

Anna's daughters exchanged looks. Then, to her surprise, the youngest of them stepped forward, knelt down, and placed her teddy bear against the post.

"Take care," she muttered.

As she stepped away, the second youngest took her place. Reaching up, she unwrapped the scarf around her neck, and wound it at the base of the post.

"Keep momma warm," she said, tucking the bear inside the scarf's folds.

The second eldest was next. Beside the scarf, she placed a bag of caramels. "I hope you like it," she said.

The eldest daughter stepped forward. She glanced over at Lucina, before she knelt down and placed a handful of flowers by the post. "I love you," she whispered.

And then, all four of them turned to Lucina. Lucina swallowed. Her hands clasped around the broken heal staff in her hands.

Every step felt like a step through mud, dragging her feet down as she drew closer and closer. Gently, Lucina laid the heal staff at the base of the post. She took a breath in.

"I'm sorry," she said, soft enough that Anna's daughters couldn't hear. "Sorry for never getting to know you better. Had I done so, perhaps we could have become friends. Perhaps I could understand why you left us for dead. I don't think I can fault you for that any more–after all, aren't we all just trying to survive?"

Lucina let out a long breath. Then, she turned to Anna's daughters. "Come on. It's time to head back."

No one moved. The youngest sobbed into her sister's sleeves.

As much as Lucina wanted to let them stay, the sky rumbled overhead. A fat raindrop splashed on her forehead, trickling down the side of her face and over her left eye. Lucina raised a hand to wipe it away. Her hand came away more wet than she'd expected.

"It's time to go," she said again.

This time, the other three nodded. The oldest grabbed the youngest by the arm, and together, they shambled back toward town.

Lucina watched them go, and a tired sigh escaped her lips. It was never easy, comforting children, telling them everything would be alright–how could she, when, to them, their entire world was falling apart?

But they would be fine. The Annas were numerous as they were wealthy–chances were, there was another one in the next town over. If she sent out a message, she was sure another would pop up within half a day to pick up the girls, and life would continue as normal. They would have another guardian to take care of them, one exactly like their last, and they would learn to move on.

Cruel as it was to say, that was just how things were. One day, the world feels like it's falling apart. The next day, it is carrying on without you.

Lucina needed to get to Ylisse and make sure Aunt Emmeryn was okay as soon as possible, and put an end to this silly civil war nonsense. She couldn't afford to be slowed down by Anna's girls.

And yet, as she moved to catch up to the four girls, why did the thought weigh so heavily on her mind?

"They're not taking it well."

Lucina glanced up to give Geralt a look. "I can tell," she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Annas gathered on the bed. One of them was laid down–the other three dangled their legs off the bed. All of them were silent.

They had returned to the inn. The window was still broken from where she and Geralt had made their escape, but everything else had stayed the same–the bed, the table, the two chairs where Anna and Lucina had just been talking to each other earlier yesterday.

"You're not gonna tell them things'll be alright?" Geralt asked with a frown.

Lucina paused. "I don't know if it will be," she said. "Besides, it's not as if I'm their mother."

"Aren't you?" Geralt said, and he gave her a confused look. "It sounded like their mom wanted you to look after them."

A long breath passed through Lucina's lips. "Only for now. I'm afraid I'm much too busy."

A stillness settled between all of them. Another Anna laid down on the bed. The rain spilled through the window and pattered against the floor for what seemed to be an eternity.

Finally, Geralt said, "I lost my parents when my little brother was only a year old."

Lucina hummed. Gaius had never talked about his parents, so it made sense. "You seem to have done rather well for yourself."

"Maybe," Geralt said, shrugging, "but sometimes, I wonder if I would've turned out different if I had someone to show me the ropes." He motioned to Anna's daughters, still on the bed. "From what I know about the Secret Sellers, they travel a lot. These girls likely don't have any friends. You're all they got."

Blinking, Lucina sank back in the chair.

You're all we've got, Lucina. She could hear them now, see the weary, hopeful faces of the Shepherds, of her friends, looking to her like she was the light that could pierce through the Fell Dragon's shadow. It hadn't filled her with much confidence then. It still didn't now.

Her eyes flit back to the sword in the corner of the room. Anna's sword, the one Victor had knocked aside in their fight. A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind. It was all so noisy, the silence around her making it feel louder than it truly was.

The chair scraped against the wooden floor as she got to her feet. "Please watch over them," Lucina said to Geralt. "I need a moment to myself."

Taking Anna's sword and strapping it to her hip, she turned around and slipped quietly out the door.

Late.

Staring into her reflection as she strolled through the street, it was the only thought that had managed to claw its way to the top of her head.

She had been too late to save Anna. She could not be too late to save Aunt Emmeryn. She refused to even entertain the thought. Everything hinged on Aunt Emmeryn's death–her assassination in the future had sparked the Plegia-Ylisse war that had led to the end. And if she died even earlier this time...

She would not be late. Not again.

She clenched her hands, reveling in the slick feeling of rain running down her palms.

She could not afford distractions like this. The rain pouring down her head had helped clear it, and now that she was standing here, soaking wet, she could decide, once and for all, that she would stay with the Annas until a relative arrived to take them away. She had no need to tie herself to them, no matter what Geralt said–and what did she care what a thief told her? She was here for one reason, and one reason alone. To save the future. Anyone else she met on her path was irrelevant. What did she care if they died? Her sole focus was her family. No one else.

Lucina clutched her head and groaned. That felt wrong to say. Her father would have left no one behind–he'd have sacrificed himself before he left anyone behind. It was one of the many reasons why everyone else had adored him so much.

But it was this wandering around that had made things as bad as they were. She hadn't been able to stamp out this civil war, or been able to see it coming at all. She needed to get her priorities in order... but leaving Anna's daughters on their own still felt so wrong. Anna had, after all, as good as left them in her care, and as Geralt had said, she was all they had left.

Oh Gods, what am I to do?

Someone bumped into her. Lucina jumped and turned around.

The boy behind her bowed and apologized before she could. Frankly, it was probably her fault–she shouldn't have stood in the middle of the road like that. As she looked down at him, however, she couldn't help but feel she'd met this boy before.

"You shouldn't be outside," she told him. "You'll catch a cold."

The boy shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I won't!"

Sighing as she returned the sword to her hip, she folded her arms across her chest. "You will if you stay out in the rain. Won't your parents be worried?"

The boy hummed, thinking long and hard about it. "Maybe. Why?"

"You should go home, then."

"You can't tell me what to do," the boy said, sticking out his tongue.

"I can't," Lucina replied, "but if the sun comes out tomorrow, you don't want to have to stay inside because you got sick today, would you?"

"I guess not."

"So do you think you could go home?"

The boy kicked against the road, splashing water from the puddles forming at their feet everywhere. "Fine," he said after a moment. Then he looked at her. "Can you come with me?"

Lucina would have liked to say no, but... it wasn't as if she had anything else to do. Plus, it would help take her mind off the more difficult thoughts at hand, so before she could think twice about it, she nodded. "I'd be more than happy to."

The boy looked at her, frowning, before he said, "You're a lot less scarier than I always thought you'd be."

"How so?"

"I always thought the Exalt would be more uppity and snooty, but you're just a nice lady."

Lucina blinkedd, and for a moment, it didn't register that he was talking about her. Aunt Emmeryn was the current Exalt. It felt strange to be called that, but she had taken on her name, so she would have to accept it for the time being. With a sigh, she asked, "Which way is your home?"

"That way!" the boy pointed down the road, before he began to skip ahead.

Lucina followed. They walked together, and as they did, Lucina took the chance to look around. Already, she could see substantial work had been done on the village. There were still a few scorch marks smearing the walls of the stone buildings, of course, but most of the damaged sections of the walls on the wooden buildings had already been removed, and scaffolding had already been propped up against a few homes to support the half-rebuilt structures. A few masons were lingering around, resting beneath the few intact buildings from the rain, covered in grime and staring up at the clouds, wondering when the rain would end.

As she approached, their attention tore from the clouds and to her. A few leaned over and began murmuring to each other.

"...the Exalt..."

"...can't believe she's here..."

"...saved us..."

She was able to pick a few words over the sound of the rain. Even though she could not hear much, what little she could catch was carried by a tone of awe–like she was Naga herself, strolling through the streets of their little town. Lucina ducked her head to hide the growing blush on her face, even though she was fairly sure all the rain already hid her well enough.

Of course they would be awed. They thought she was the Exalt–and in their darkest hour, she had led them through. She, of all people, knew how much even the smallest hope could mean if you were on Death's door.

The boy skipped ahead of her, ducking under to avoid a pair of builders hoisting a beam between them. Lucina apologized as she walked around them, and as she moved a little faster, she passed a man pushing a wheelbarrow of bricks. The man nodded at her, muttering, "Your Grace." She nodded back.

Still, she couldn't help but feel undeserving of all this gratitude. Putting aside the fact that she had lied about being the Exalt, she had brought the bandits here in the first place. The people who had died here, the Captain, Anna, their blood was on her hands. They had to know that. In the future, the scared and suspicious people had never hesitated to drive her and her friends out when they suspected they were drawing more Risen to their homes.

Yet here, her only penalty was grateful smiles and nods.

To the side, three men stood gathered before a stable–the same one she and Geralt had fallen through. As she got close, one of the men noticed, and he elbowed his companions and pointed them in her direction. The three of them raised their hands in greeting, and Lucina waved back. She watched as they turned back to their work.

In the future, her friends had often helped with the repair efforts after a Risen attack. This bandit attack was no different–the bandits had come, they had been driven off, and the townsfolk were left to pick up the pieces so that everything could return to some semblance of normal.

Maybe the bandits would come again. Maybe they wouldn't. But the world would carry on no matter what they did, so the town had to fix itself or else be left behind.

Had nothing truly changed? Was this world the same as the one she had left behind?

"Hey, Miss Grace?"

It took a moment for Lucina to realize the boy was talking to her. "What is it?" she asked.

"When I grow up, I wanna be a Pegasus Knight!"

Lucina blinked. Then, she tilted her head. "Why do you want to become a Pegasus Knight?"

"Because everyone knows that Pegasus Knights are the coolest knights in the capital, and you looked just like one yesterday, fighting those bandits. Did you train with the Pegasus Knights?"

She'd trained with a Pegasus Knight, though with Cynthia's lack of training, she wasn't sure if that counted.

"I guess."

"Well, I want to learn to fight just like you."

Lucina shook her head. "It's hard work."

"But I'm still gonna try! Even if it's super hard, one day I can become one, right?"

Smiling, Lucina shook her head. "You're not a girl, aren't you?"

The boy stuck out his tongue. "Ew! No, I'm not."

"Then I'm afraid not. Pegasi can only bond with girls."

"Well that's not gonna stop me! I'm gonna be the first boy to become a Pegasus Knight!"

Lucina held back a laugh. Isn't he a stubborn one.

Then, something clicked. Lucina looked back over her shoulder, at the half-repaired buildings behind her.

No, something had changed. The builders moved not with the slow shuffle of someone who knew their work could be undone the next day, but with their backs straight, their spirits high.

Even if the bandits ever returned, they were no Risen. They did not keep coming and coming and coming. It would take time for them to gather their courage again to launch an attack after they'd suffered such huge losses yesterday. Time the townspeople could rebuild, reinforce, and better prepare themselves for that next time.

People still died. People still had to pick up the pieces. But now, it was not just because the world would leave them behind–it was because there was no Fell Dragon hanging over them, no assurance that their death could come tomorrow, no feeling that they had only pushed back their death by just another day.

She could see it in the builders, could see it in the townsfolk, could see it in the boy beside her. Something had changed.

"Ashe! There you are!" a familiar voice called out.

Lucina turned around just in time to see the guard from yesterday approach them. What was his name again? Samwick?

"I'm so sorry, your Grace," the guard said, huffing as he grabbed the boy by the shoulders and pulled him away. "My boy tends to wander whenever he's bored. I hope your Grace is not too bothered, having to walk him back home."

"Oh, no, it's no trouble," Lucina replied. "I'm more than happy to help."

"If there is any way I can repay you, just name the price. I would hate to burden the Exalt herself in any way."

"It's truly fine. All I ask is you get home safely. Now is not the time to be wandering outdoors."

Turning to the boy, the guard began to scold him as they walked away. Lucina watched them go, and as they got further and further down the road, she couldn't help the smile on her lips.

Hope. Yes, that was it. People had a future ahead of them, a future to look forward to.

That was what she fought to protect.

And even if they would slow her down, it was the future of those four that she would fight to protect as well.

When Lucina returned, she found three of Anna's daughters already asleep. She had met Geralt on the way down, who told her he was going out to grab a bite. Gregor, she had seen in the inn's bar, half hidden among the guards who had come to relax after a battle nearly lost.

So when she opened the door and saw Anna's eldest, slouched on the chair Geralt had been sitting in, she moved to join her at the table. They sat there, not speaking for a minute.

What to say to her? What to do?

Her mother had not sacrificed her life, holding off waves of Risen so that they could bring themselves one step closer to their goal. She'd died because Lucina had been one step too slow and one step too late.

"You're still awake," was the first thing she said.

Anna's daughter nodded. Lucina noticed the bags under her eyes–they had not faded since she had first rescued her from Vincent a month ago.

"You need to get some rest," Lucina said. "Gods know how much you need it after yesterday."

"I don't want to."

Her shoulders slumped, and she leaned back against her chair.

"Are you afraid?" When the girl nodded, Lucina sighed. "The bandits will not come back. I'll make sure of it."

"I'm not afraid of the bandits."

"Oh." Lucina deflated and stared up at the ceiling.

Another minute passed in silence. Then, Anna said, "Do you hate my momma?"

"I–" Lucina paused, pressing her lips together. Did she still hate her? After everything she'd been through? "Your mother and I... we valued different things. I suppose, those things we disagreed on, they made me angry. But she was still a good woman. I can't hate her for that."

"Do you hate us?"

Lucina shook her head. "No, I could never."

"Then why do you keep trying to run away?"

The accusation stung, not least of all because it came from this girl. Lucina bit her lip, before she said, "I thought I had a choice to make. I was afraid of choosing wrong–but life is not as simple as that. It's taken me this long to realize that." Lucina took a deep breath. "Your mother was brave. Braver than I ever gave her credit for. If it weren't for her, perhaps I would not be alive today. I'm so sorry I could not return the favor."

"It–it's okay."

Even in the dim light, Lucina could catch the silver glimmer of teardrops rolling down Anna's face. Lucina shook her head. "It's not okay. Were she alive, she would have wanted a better future for you. A happier one. And until I can give you–all of you–that future in her place, I shall never leave your side–if you'll have me, that is."

"O–okay..."

Wordlessly, Lucina held out her arms. Anna didn't need to be told what to do–she fell into her arms, sobbing softly. Slowly, Lucina turned to gaze out the broken window, watching as the rain fell from the sky.

End of Part 2

So, that stretched on longer than I expected. Twice the size of Arc 1 and some change, but we're heading back to Ylisstol now, with Anna in tow. Honestly, I probably shouldn't have left, but all I can do is press on.

Speaking of, I'll probably be putting this story on hold to work on a few other things–namely wrapping up the stories I've put on hold for this beast–but also for writing down a few one-shots I've had floating in my head. Most of them are Fire Emblem (you can thank my Lunatic playthrough for that), and a few prominently feature Anna. I can't say how long it'll be. It could be just a month, or it could be to the end of the Spring semester, which is late April-ish/early May.

Until then, go out and make the most out of the year ahead of us, and stay safe!