''I don't agree on this decision.''
The Vessel held back an annoyed expression. The Vessel had anticipated it, but the Observer could feel that it was nevertheless tiresome for the Vessel to repeat why this was the most strategically sound decision to the Exalt. The Vessel was currently alone with the Exalt in the War-tent. It gave the Vessel the leeway to speak with a more informal tone to his long-time friend.
''Chrom…We have been through this. We need to resupply and to do that we need to stop at least a day at one of the harbours near the coast. My father's ships are already on their way and Basillio's delaying actions will give us the time to unload any supplies and reinforcements from Ylisse.''
The Exalt looked at his tactician, his eyes hid a certain desperation.
''But we are leaving him and his people to die! Thousands of men and women, Robin! I still can't see why we can't march back up north as soon as we have resupplied. Our combined forces might be able to…''
The Vessel interrupted his friend. He had already considered that possibility.
''We would be slaughtered. The north is an open field, and we currently don't have the numbers to match Walhart's forces. We need to move southwest of this continent if we are to stand any chance. The hills and mountains of that area could give us cover and secure our flanks in a direct confrontation. The terrain shall be the equalizer between our forces.''
The Exalt looked down at the war-map. Clearly still having his doubts.
''Look…Chrom…It's a hard choice and I wouldn't have made it if Basillio haven't volunteered himself. He and his people knew the risk and the significance of their actions. Don't let it go to waste by moving north now.''
The Exalt continued to stare at the map on the table as if trying to figure out an alternative strategy to his tactician. Giving up, he resigned himself to follow their original plan and sat down.
''I'm tired of this Robin…This war is taking a heavy toll. How many more friends and family do we need to set to the torch before it ends?''
The Vessel paused. He understood his friend's question, he to had grown weary of the cost of war. So many friends had been lost and more would surely follow if he was too reckless with his tactics.
The Vessel was unsure on how to respond, should he say something encouraging or realistic? He opted to just come with a truthful answer. For was it not the duty of an advisor to speak to his liege honestly?
''I don't know. We have been doing this for a long time now Chrom. And we are the underdogs in this war, but there is no going back now. The Conqueror has made it clear that he would only accept the complete subjection of the entire continent of Ylisse.''
The thought of their current situation made the Vessel suddenly reminiscence of simpler times.
''You know, I miss those days where our chef concern was rooting out bandits with the Shepherds while your sister handled all the political matters. Everything was so clear and clean back then.''
At the mention of his older sister the Exalt smiled, yet his stance also grew crestfallen.
''Yes, I agree. I do miss her…Sometimes I can't help but wonder if things would be different if she still lived. She was always the better diplomat.''
The Exalt then went silent before he shook himself from his melancholic mood. Refocusing on the task at hand, he proceeded to give the final confirming order for their next move.
''But I swear I will do anything to protect the people of Ylisse and my family if it means fighting for another decade…so be it. Tell the officers, we move southwest as soon as we have rendezvous with the fleet. But send more scouts north. With any luck we might be able to save some of Basillio's people if they escaped the battle.''
The Vessel hesitated after hearing the Exalt's last part of the order. While he sympathized with his friend's desire to guide as many potential remnants of Basillio's soldiers as possible back to the main army. Sending more scouts north would incur a certain risk. The Observer in turn sneered at the Exalt's weakness.
''Would it be wise? If any of our scouts should be captured and forced to reveal our location, it could spell doom for our entire army.''
The Exalt would hear none of his tactician's concerns.
''I trust our people Robin, and we are not going to leave our allies to die if there are any survivors in the wilderness. This matter is closed, give the order.''
The scene began to disintegrate as the Observer began to untangle himself from the memory.
The King of Plegia had seen enough for now.
He moved his mind back to the present, which where the throne room of the castle of Plegia.
As usual the King was alone in that dark desolate room.
In those times the King would spend his time examining the memories of his current vessel. It was a treasure trove of knowledge and first-hand accounts concerning the most prominent leaders of this world and other things of significance.
Of all the bodies he had inhabited in the last few centuries. This one had been far the most suitable for his needs. The result of careful selective breeding, this body had not only provided him with insightful knowledge, but it was also durable enough to contain a great deal of his great essence.
Former hosts had proven to be less so, falling apart in a matter of months or at best years after he began to posses them.
Yet like all mortal flesh, this body too began to fail him.
He felt pain from his left arm and noticed how his brief visit into the past had left it weakened. The arm had begun to show rapid signs of aging, appearing wrinkled and feeble. Annoyed, the King began to redirect some of his energy to his decaying arm and it quickly regained its youthful vigour.
It was a minor effort, but it was an effort he had to repeat with an increasing frequency. A sign that he did not have much time. Soon he would need to inhabit a new body or go back to slumber for a few centuries.
Both prospects were not very appealing.
He had invested too much effort in this time to simply leave it now. He had planned this for decades and knowingly sent much of the Plegian army to their doom in order to set the stage for his final ascension.
How he longed to regain his old body instead of being trapped in a weak mortal shell.
Changing host was not a viable option either, there were no suitable hosts even among the children he had sired with his current body. He had been fortunate with his present form, but a similar host was unlikely to be breed for a long time.
Another part of him also secretly feared the process of changing host. He had at this point been doing it for hundredth of times, and it had become more difficult to retain his own memories each time. Recollections of the various host began to mix, and there were times he had difficulty separating them from each other.
So many conflicting events…
He remembered a sister he once loved but grew to hate.
The feeling of isolation as he was left alone in a study room of a deranged magician.
A father that all to happily gave up his own son for the promise of power.
He needed to end this. He needed to return to his original body. He needed to be free of this cursed existence that was so dependent on the bodies of mere mortals.
But he knew that he could not do it himself or by exploiting the flesh at his disposal, he needed something more…
Much of his plans depended on the girl that was now present in the Halidom of Ylisse.
The girl named Morgan. The girl he had sired with the heir of Naga's chosen bloodline.
In many ways she was his greatest creation and pride. A living proof that his touch could corrupt even the Exalted line (even if it took him great effort to do so). Even so the blessings of Naga ran strong in the girl, her mere presence pained him, but it was something that he might be able to turn to his advantage in time.
The girl was of his blood, and he always had a connection to all his children.
However, this connection had begun to fade as soon as she or her companion had crossed the border. He could no longer sense them or their actions. Despite this the King was confident that his little pawn would do as he had anticipated.
For like the pawns in a chess game, her movements were simple and easy to predict.
Whatever she knew it or not, he had seen to it that his youngest, ever since she came out of her mother's womb, had developed, and formed in a way that he had desired.
The foolish Exalt would never see it coming. He was too sentimental when it came to his own blood.
The King knew this, he had seen it in the past.
And the future is built upon the past.
I was able to finish this one a bit quicker than the others ^^ Going to take a break with continuing the story for now as I would like to focus on re-writing some of the older sections to be a bit more ''descriptive''. Again, no changes to the overall plot, so there won't be a need to re-read the entire story.
Got some suggestions about pairing Morgan with some of the cast from the game, but sadly this is not something that I would be able to implement in the story. The ending and plot of the story is already planned, it just needs to be written with my limited English. So, I'm very reluctant to add anything new to the plot.
As always thank you all for your response and time. I hope that you still find this story worthwhile to read.