"We don't develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity." -Barbara de Angelis

The next day left me in my bed, tossing and turning. My sheets became crumpled, and every slight movement caused me slight pain, even though my mind told me I desperately needed to do something. The light seemed to blind me, and my head was killing itself. "Stupid spirits…" I moaned to myself. I winced. "Why did I have to drink so many…."

Trying to distract myself from pain, I thought properly of what happened the day earlier. As properly as I could, anyway. First there was that guy from the bar, the red head. He was more familiar than I originally thought, I just knew it, and it wasn't only his accent that made it seem that way. He was…. tall, he had red hair…. and he had a steel sword by his side, but he wasn't as reckless or daft as to use it in a bar fight. Why would he use it against a civilian, an ignorant one at that? Maybe he was a soldier then. Or a veteran. He had looked quite aged.

Maybe he was in the Roster….

As far as I could tell, the Roster hadn't changed much since Sully died. Everything with the Shepherds were alright as far as I could tell. But it didn't mean something wasn't going to happen soon. In fact, there was a sharp feeling in my stomach that guaranteed something would happen, I just didn't know what. If I had known, I don't think it would have made me feel any better either. It only felt like another weight on my frame.

I smiled. I smiled to myself because I had to. Cynthia had once told me at a low point that because I was the Exalt, it was my duty to keep people's hopes up, and how could I do that without raising my own hopes? It was in vain, I knew that, but I gladly took my sister's advice to heart. What other unexpected wisdoms had she shared with me? I was going to be a hero, so I should act like one…. I had friends so if I wasn't able to smile, they would smile for me…. I couldn't expect myself to run a whole country on my own, so I should rely on people once in awhile….

Cynthia was just amazing, and there was no way I could deny it. Unless it was to her face, then I could deny it all I wanted; I didn't need to inflate her ego. The same could be said for Kjelle. In fact, what noteworthy counseling had Kjelle given me? Plenty, I'm sure, too many to count…. What is a country without its leader? You should act like one, because you're definitely not being one now…. Don't let a boorish old group of little pansies get you down, they've gone senile already…. Don't stress over your duties unnecessarily, you'll dig yourself an early grave….

Kjelle was blunt and brash, and for that I loved her. If I ever needed an honest answer, Kjelle was the one to go to. Her advice was some of my favourite because of the clear ways she and Cynthia contrasted, yet worked so well together in spite of it. While Cynthia was optimistic and comforting, Kjelle was realistic and truthful. I took their wisdoms and lived by them accordingly, because surely, they would be pleased for me to live in such a way rather than the other. And if Kjelle had heard my thought, she would say, "You shouldn't live to please others," and Cynthia, "You don't have to please anyone, you work on pleasing yourself, okay?

Warmth fluttered from my center to my aching, pink cheeks. Tenderly, I brought my shaky cold hands to them, to feel the difference in temperatures that there had to be. Exhaling through my nostrils softly, I reveled only in the warmth my hands were receiving, and shuddering at the cold my hands were giving.

If only I was able to stay under my covers, but I knew I had everyday responsibilities, and they had to be accomplished. My muscles yelled at me, telling me to stay where I was, and I bore through it, managing to at least stand on my feet. Through my swaying, I struggled to think on what I had to do first. It was…. was…. I couldn't remember.

"I have some sort of schedule I was given when I was younger don't I?" I muttered with half lidded eyes. Blearily, I looked for it. First, in my nightstand. It had been, what? Five years since I last used and had need of it? The last places I put it were either around my desk, nightstand, or bookshelf which had a hefty amount of lore, mythology, and history textbooks. I had read most of them. The only ones I hadn't were the ones I had gotten for my birthday yesterday, which I was sure I was going to get to soon enough.

I rummaged through the small drawer in my nightstand, finding nothing like what I was looking for. Instead, I found some scribbles and drawings, ones I vaguely remembered being drawn by me and Cynthia when we were younger; we had claimed we were having a drawing contest, and whoever won would then paint a portrait of the loser when we got older. Cynthia won. I wondered if she remembered the little wager we made back then. Hopefully not.

My search for the old schedule proved fruitless, however. By the time I was done, it was as if a tornado had torn through my room. I was growing frustrated. My thoughts drifted to the Roster, in which I sometimes placed important documents if I was too lazy to actually file them. Tentatively, I opened the cover of the Roster's worn leather, and lo and behold, my old schedule was the fifth document in there, behind profiles for the council members…. and my duties were outdated….

I spent the better half of an hour searching for a useless paper, and it just now occurred to me that I had no responsibilities to attend to until two. It was currently ten o'clock in the morning. I sighed, though I wasn't able to tell if it was because of dejection or gladness. Maybe a mix of the two, after all, I could lay in bed for a few more hours, curling myself in the covers to the migraine in my head.

My rumbling stomach and dry throat would not let me, however.

"I hope Amice made something," I muttered groggily. Nothing was possibly going to be getting me in any better mood unless it was Amice's cooking. I stumbled through the halls and into the dining room. I looked from side to side. Amice wasn't there, but there was a pie on the dining table. I eyed it hungrily, eating it with my eyes. No one else was in the room, so I supposed it was okay for me to eat the pie by myself. Quickly, I prepared myself a glass of water, and dug into the food wolfishly.

I was satisfied, although my headache told me otherwise. By the time I was done, I still had time left over and didn't know what to do with myself. I decided on going back to my room and sleeping my hangover off, though I felt as if I didn't want to sleep despite my body giving me signs everywhere that I had to.

I went to the courtyard.

I didn't have Falchion on me, my sword was still in my room. Perhaps the fresh air was what I went out for. Thankfully, it wasn't very sunny, so my eyes had a bit of rest. I sat down next to the training dummy, leaning on it for support as wind blew by us both, rustling the grass and my hair to the east. I shivered and rubbed my arms. My night clothes weren't exactly the warmest things. A white sleeveless shirt and light blue pantaloons. Spring mornings weren't the warmest either. I rubbed my bare feet into the ground for a semblance of warmth. It did nothing aside from dirtying my feet. As to be expected.

I patted the training dummy's rough, wooden exterior, running my fingers through the cracks absentmindedly. This one had held on for sometime, longer than any of the other dummies. Maybe the material was sturdier. I would have to thank the staff responsible for it, or maybe thank Frederick himself. He probably thought I didn't notice it when he paid a little extra from his pockets for supplies normally used by me. I leaned my head on the dummy and closed my eyes. Frederick was far too fair. In training he was overly stern, but as a person he was just too nice. He thought too much about other people besides himself. He should've taken more time to be with his family.

I was brought out of my thoughts as I heard the noise of feet crunching on the ground. I recognized the sounds and patterns of the footfalls, it was newer to me, though familiar nonetheless. I opened my eyes slowly. "Hey Walter," I greeted with a welcoming grin, or as welcoming as I could be. He looked strange with his hood and helmet up. Inwardly, I grimaced. My voice was much too scratchy for my liking.

Walter made to say something though kept silent as I cleared my throat, coughing a few times for good measure. "Pardon?" I asked through another cough.

He walked towards me and placed a hand on his hip. "I think I'll wait until you're done hacking up your lungs," He said pointedly, nodding towards me. I coughed again, and again. I placed a hand on my chest and leaned forward, and coughed. I spat. Walter raised a brow.

I brought my knees to my chest trying to shield my face. "Shut up," I said flustered, knowing he was judging me mentally. He had the twinkles in his eyes to prove it.

"I didn't even say anything," He mumbled. He spoke up with a questioning tone. "Do you know where the any of the guards are? I haven't been able to find my C.O. or anyone in my squad the entire morning," As he mentioned it, I had noticed a distinct lack of guards, or of any staff members in the castle when I had my breakfast. I wasn't able to see how I would know where the staff went off to though. Then again, I was the leader, I guessed I was supposed to know where everyone was at all times.

"Sorry," I shrugged, running a hand down my face, "haven't seen anyone. Do you want to check it out?"

He nodded. "Sure, let's do this quickly." He extended his hand down to me, and I took it gladly, ignoring the slight feeling of vertigo. Walter brought me back on my feet and noticed my attire. He dropped my hand to cover his airy chuckles. I let out an indignant, "Hey," while Walter apologised insincerely. "Nice pants," He managed to let out.

I looked downwards to my pyjama pants. Light blue…. with the brand of the Exalt all over it…. I tapped my foot irritatedly, blowing air into my cheeks. "Look, this wasn't even my idea, okay? Frederick likes…. to get my clothes specially tailored…." I trailed off more quietly near the end, becoming more bashful.

Walter, whose laughs had turned near silent, sent me a mock disbelieving look. "Are you sure you don't like to display your superiority as Exalt to the world?" I slapped his arm weakly as a joke. "Ow! Okay, you don't!" He offered his arm as if he were offering a dance. "Shall we your majesty?" I scowled, remembering how I briefly told him yesterday that I didn't do formalities. He was just messing with me now.

I walked ahead of him, telling Walter I'd be just a moment to change my clothes if he didn't like the Brand so much. A moment later, like I promised, I exited my chambers in my tunic and leggings, also with clean feet and shoes. "Happy?" I asked him, twirling a bit to show off my usual outfit. He was waiting outside my door, even though he didn't have to.

"Yeah, sure. Hey, how about we go find the guards now?" He sounded rushed. I could tell he wanted to find them as soon as possible. I rubbed my temple as he was a few paces ahead of me. I still felt somewhat sick. Hopefully I'd feel a little better later on. I still felt like I needed a bucket.

Walter and I searched most of the castle, yet no one was to be found, even in the servant's quarters. By the time we reached the library, I wasn't feeling any better either, in fact I was feeling even worse. I sat down on one of the chairs, snuggling into the cushions as far as I could, which wasn't very far in the thinly padded chairs. My stomach was rumbling horribly, lurching at almost every movement.

Walter approached me from the corner he was inspecting hesitantly. "Are you alright?" He asked. I shook my head, my face twisting into a tight frown. "Do you need anything?" He offered.

"Water," I rasped, "bucket," I added, because I knew I needed it. My throat felt drier than it had earlier. Walter nodded and ran off with a, "be right back," and I was left alone in the library. I held my stomach, feeling it lurch again unpleasantly. I let out little sounds of pitiful pain. I felt like crap, and everything about me seemed sluggish and gross.

Once Walter came back into the room with water and a bucket, I reached for the bucket instantly, bile rising and burning my throat. "That does not sound pleasant…." I heard him mutter, a sniff in his tone. I agreed wholeheartedly, and it wasn't fun by any means. What person enjoyed having a hangover?

It was when I didn't stop retching for a good two minutes, that Walter really got concerned. He rubbed my back uncertainly. Whatever he was trying to do wasn't helping but the sentiment was appreciated nonetheless. "Maybe we should get you to the infirmary…." He muttered to himself, obviously intending for me to hear him. I could only nod as Walter extended his hand to me for the second time the day, and I took it gladly, using my other hand to clutch on my glass of water, my arm curled around the bucket.

He led us through the halls which seemed to stretch and spin forever. I took a quick sip of my water to rinse out my mouth. I didn't need the taste of sick while I already felt it all over, especially when my head was whirling in every other direction. I'm wasn't sure if Walter even knew if there was staff in the infirmary; there sure wasn't anyone anywhere else. I wasn't even sure if the infirmary was a good idea. I was hungover, it wasn't like it was anything horrible like the plague (which I had learned had actually taken place in Daien, yet remnants of the plague still remained today…. Another piece of evidence of Tellius' hypothetical existence maybe?).

"Hey, open up!" Walter banged on the door leading into the infirmary.

On the outside, the infirmary looked incredibly small, maybe the size of a single bedroom, but on the inside, it was so much larger. A proper yet disguised medical bay. I thought it was kind of clever.

The door opened the slightest crack, a single brown eye peeking around the frame. "State your name, occupation and purpose. We've a lot of injured and sick in here. We may not have time to check on you." The wispy, male voice on the other side of the door emphasized on the fact they had a lot of injured. I tugged at Walter's arm. If they had a lot of injured people, then there was no reason for my being there. I could just ride my hangover out with some hangover food and sleep. It wasn't like I was bleeding.

Walter didn't show any intention of not getting me in there, though. "Walter. Guard stationed to the southern block." I was surprised by the amount of professionalism that leaked into his voice as he spoke. Curt and to the point, which was a bit different from what I observed from our two interactions now. Walter took my arm and raised it, making my presence known to the man behind the door, whose eye widened considerably. "The Exalt isn't feeling well." An understatement, though I was sure the man noticed my bucket.

The door looked as if it was ripped open, and with a rushed click, there was a gray haired priest in his garb, looking flushed. "I-I apologize profusely, your majesty! Y-you must understand, we've many to tend-"

I waved him off with a pained smile. "You're doing your job, don't apologize," I coughed. I noticed the priest became concerned immediately, his eyes analyzing my entire being as if he were diagnosing me on the spot.

His eyes suddenly tore away, looking back into the door frame. I could hear the unhealthy, haphazardly coughing. I cringed. It was a bit loud for my ears. "I apologize again," he said, "but there are more important matters to attend to, however I can arrange for one of my clerics to make sure you are well." He gave a warm, grandfatherly smile. Clearly, we had the best healers anywhere. I was in good hands, definitely.

"That would be amazing, thank you." I returned the man's smile gratefully. I turned back to Walter to thank him too. "Sorry, Walter, looks like I won't be able to help you find your squad or your C.O from here on out. Good luck." I gave him a small wave, to which he returned a firm nod and grin.

"You said you are stationed to the southern block correct?" The priest spoke before Walter walked off.

Walter nodded, face grim. "I haven't seen any of them the entire morning. Have you heard anything about them?"

"We've three of your comrades in the bay. They are quite ill."

"What? That doesn't make sense, everyone was in top condition just yesterday." Walter looked baffled. I didn't know what went on with specific guard squads, but whatever was going on wasn't good.

The priest motioned for Walter to follow. "You will have to see for yourself self, then." The priest walked forward without looking back, expecting both of us to follow.

"I guess we're still going on this journey, huh?" I muttered jokingly. When Walter looked down at me though, there wasn't the barest hint of happiness. I winced. It wasn't right of me to joke, especially since I saw how serious he was about whatever the situation was. "Sorry," I said, "that was insensitive…."

Walter nodded wordlessly and walked after the priest. Seeing it was time to move along, I took my bucket and shuffled forward. I felt horrible, and not just physically. I could only hope things would be resolved, but knowing how things were resolved with before with the council, there wasn't much hoping I could do.

As we entered the medical bay, I found I had severely underestimated it. On my left were a multitude of doors, leading to what I suspected were the areas in which patients were treated. Each door were names, if they were patients' names or healers' names I wasn't able to tell. There were probably even more if there were injured soldiers here. On my right were racks and shelves of staves, salves, any kind of healing item was there, you name it.

I couldn't marvel for long though, even if there was more to potentially explore. As the priest sat Walter down in one of the chairs in the middle of the room, he guided me through halls of every other direction. It was like a maze. Eventually, I was taken to a room where he would situate a healer for me. I was in luck, he said, for they had only one extra chamber after the soldiers took the rest.

I sat onto a bed covered with thin linen sheets. It wasn't unlike a doctor's office, yet it wasn't unlike a hospital room either. There were curtains thin enough to be able to make out shapes in the form of shadows. As I looked through the sheer curtains, I could see the forms of people lying on their backs. They weren't making any noise, in fact it was completely silent. Maybe they were put to rest.

The silence hung over me like a blanket of uneasiness. My worst thoughts came to the front of my mind. This was going to turn sourly, like some sort of horror movie cliché. The people on the other side wouldn't be people any more…. only rotting carcasses coming to gnaw on my body for food…. and it would all just further infect the population.

I tried to push the thoughts away but they kept coming back. It was horribly irrational, but I was scared.

As the door opened with a loud click, I let out a faint gasp. A cleric had her back turned to me with a staff and a clipboard in her hands. "Baggy and squinty eyes, dizziness, shaking, unable to concentrate…. If nausea and irritableness are factors, there could possibly be low iron, low blood sugar, anemia, depression, migraines, or other minor illnesses…." She muttered to herself. It didn't seem like she was aware I was in the same room as her. She was that concentrated in her work.

I was impressed. Medical knowledge wasn't my forte, but she had deduced over three possible ailments with only descriptions, and hadn't taken a single look at me yet. I kept silent in hopes of listening to what else she could diagnose me as, because it was just a simple hangover, but instead of continuing, she wrapped her arms around her clipboard and sighed. I almost hadn't heard her. "You can do this…."

Abruptly, she turned around, and I attempted to mask my surprise with amusement.

"Amice?"

I had to hold back a laugh as she jumped out of her own skin. I didn't want to ruin her confidence, because she had started to quake in her boots, but it was funny to me. I successfully held back my laughter, but my smile told an entirely different story.

"L-Lucina?!" Amice stuttered for the first time in the room. "W-what are you doing h-here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," I gestured to her cleric's robes. "though, I think I know why you weren't present for your shifts now," I hadn't intended for it to come out so irritatedly and it was in the air now, filling it with anger.

She was speechless, her mouth bobbing up and down like a fish. "I- yes…. I've been volunteering with the healers." She looked down shamefully. It irritated me though I had no idea why. Amice, however steeled her resolve, and clenched her fists tightly. She looked up hard, determination giving fire to her eyes. "And I-I enjoy it! I feel as though I am really helping everyone! Not to say I hadn't felt so as a housemaid! But, as a cleric, I feel as though I am helping the country's peoples directly! I feel h-happy…." She trailed off quietly. She was aware she had been shouting, hadn't she?

My heart was breaking in my chest. Did she think I was mad at her? Sure, Amice left on short notice when I wanted and needed her most, countless times I wanted to talk to her, but I wouldn't have been able to stop her in the first place. The signs had been there; leaving early for "something," healing Cynthia, Kjelle or me whenever we were the least bit injured, and the medical books she had with her sometimes when we spoke. Hell, she outright told me once that, yes she wanted to be a cleric. I would have had to been blind to not see all of the hints.

"Prove it," I found myself saying. Anything else probably would have been rude and condescending.

Hesitantly, Amice nodded. She approached slowly, more for her benefit than mine. She ran through tests: checking my temperature, checking my reflexes, the normal routine checkup. She began to ask me how I felt. Obviously, I knew what was up with me, so I bluntly told her I had a hangover. Before using a tonic to at least alleviate my migraine, Amice, who was feeling more confident again, decided to scold me, saying how there were more severely injured people she had to tend to. I fully accepted the scolding, because I already knew, and felt I deserved it.

Even so, I knew Amice cared by the way she advised me to eat dry foods for the rest of the day, drink a lot of water and get some rest. She was disgruntled when I finally brought her into a tight hug. I wasn't able to tell if I was sweating or tearing up, either way, something hurt. "I'm really proud of you, you know?" I decided on saying. "Whatever you do, I'm going to support you," I felt Amice's arms wrap around me, and I smiled.

When we broke apart, she was wiping her eye. "Thank you Lucina," she whispered, "you don't know how much that means to m-me."

"Good luck," I waved.

I decided to leave on that note. It was happy and sad. Bittersweet. I wouldn't have had it any other way. As I passed the chairs at the front of the medical bay, I noticed one person holding a heavily bleeding arm. Further approaching them, I noticed it was Gerome. Aside from his bloody forearm which concerned me greatly, in appearance he was vastly different. Wearing a black tunic and pantaloons, with black and gold plated armor. He also had a black mask. Vaguely, I wondered why he had any need to wear a mask, but his arm had me more worried.

"Oh gods," I whisper-screamed. "What did you do!?"

Gerome recoiled instantly. Unable to see his eyes, I depended on his mouth as a hint to his actual emotions, and it was pulled into a tight, and painful scowl. "Nothing," he barked quietly, "now leave me alone…."

I gestured to his arm wildly. "You honestly think I'm about to leave you alone with that happening?!" I looked closer to his arm. It was punctured in a few places in a strange, ragged pattern. It definitely wasn't a weapon which was relieving. The blood loss would have been worse if it was. "Ugh, just tell me what happened…." I couldn't stand looking at it. I found that ironic in itself. I would be forced to look at these types of things soon enough.

"Why do you care?" Gerome hissed. "It's none of your business."

I was taken aback for a moment. Why did I care? Why did I care? "Of course it's my business! Anything that goes on in this building should be my business! Your arm's my business!"

"Actually it's my business," The same priest from earlier hobbled through the doorway, I froze, and with an inquisitive look, reiterated what I was trying to ask Gerome. "What happened?"

"The same thing as last time…." Gerome muttered.

"Ah," the priest nodded. "She is a feisty one, is she not?"

I attempted to sort through my thoughts. Gerome was being hurt by a girl? With what, fireplace pokers? As curious as I was and as much as I wanted to know what was happening, I knew it wasn't my place to speak.

Gerome nodded and held out his arm for the priest who bandaged it quickly.

"Thank you,"

"You are most welcome." I gave the priest a thankful nod for what he'd done for me and went to catch up to Gerome, who was going to exit the bay.

"Who's, 'she?'" I asked, walking beside him. If Gerome was being hurt by this girl then I definitely wanted to have a talk with her.

Gerome snorted. "Again, why does it matter to you?"

"It's just a precaution, I want to make sure this girl won't hurt anyone else in the future." It was the best I could come up with. As far as I knew, Gerome and I weren't friends, so I suppose it was my job to keep things professional. He was already fine with keeping distance.

"She won't," he said firmly, "she's secluded from everyone."

I rose a brow. Which was more concerning? Gerome being hurt, or the fact a girl was being isolated by him? "What does that even mean?" I whined. This was quickly becoming especially disgusting, in terms of what, I had yet to know.

"She is on her leash," He annunciated each word with clarity I didn't seem to understand. "in her own stable."

My eyes widened, and after a moment or two of staring, I let out a huff of relieving laughter. He wasn't actually being hurt by a human then. He wasn't tying up some poor girl in a dusty stable. It was probably one of the mounts then. I placed a hand over my heart. Yep, it was still beating at a fast pace because of how out of context and vague he was being.

"You need to clarify yourself more often," I snickered. "You had me believing you were tying up a girl like some sort of dastard."

Gerome flushed red under his mask, the same shade appearing at the tips of his ears. "Who do you think I am?!" It was something other than indifference, so I was glad I passed by it for embarrassment, though he wasn't as glad.

"Well, now I know you are indeed not sick in the head," I jested half heartedly. The was a pleasurable period of silence between us as I followed Gerome to his destination, something the both of us enjoyed, or perhaps he preferred silence given his nature and attitude.

"What kind of mount?" I asked to pass the time.

"Excuse me?"

"What kind of mount? You know, what kind of mount do you ride?"

Gerome contemplated whether he was going to tell me or not. After deciding he whispered, "... wyvern." Intriguing in the least. I had heard training a wyvern was a difficult task.

"Name?"

"... Minerva."

I faltered from elation. Had I really heard correctly? My smile grew. No, I knew I had heard crystal clearly. Gerome's wyvern was named Minerva. Ironic, yet fitting at the same time. I was practically bouncing from side to side from excitement. Gerome, however, found it troublesome, and so barked, "What?"

Still grinning from ear to ear, I replied hastily. "It's funny your wyvern's name is Minerva. Not in a rude way per se! It's actually really interesting. Minerva's not named after the same wyvern rider from the Hero King's army, is she? The princess of Medon, later general, later ruler?" From Gerome's baffled expression, it hadn't seemed like he had heard of Minerva the wyvern rider after all; a shame really.

As confused as Gerome was, he was still interested, and asked (demanded) me to explain who Minerva was and what role she had to play in the Hero King's army. I wasn't opposed to teaching Gerome, in fact I wholeheartedly enjoyed the proposition. Firstly, I explained Minerva's origin: the middle child of the three royal siblings of Medon, Michalis, Minerva, and Maria. Michalis grew to be a knight, and Minerva loved her siblings dearly, and so followed in her older brother's footsteps, and even created her own group of knights called the Whitewings (the three pegasus sisters, Catria, Palla, and Est). Maria, the youngest, grew to be a cleric.

And next, the entirety of her backstory and the actions leading to her joining Marth's army.

Medon was a neighboring kingdom in between Archania and Dolhr, the kingdom founded by Medeus and the other earth dragons and manaketes. As Dolhr's power grew, the kingdom requested an allegiance of Medon. The king of Medon and father to the three royal siblings, King Oswald was distressed. As a suzerain nation under Archania he denied the request and asked for reinforcements against the Dolhr campaign. The reinforcements never came, and suddenly King Oswald passed. Michalis came to the throne and was quick to announce it was an Archanian assassin who had killed the late king, and later allied Medon with Dolhr. He imprisoned Maria to Dolhr and said that if Minerva did not cooperate with Dolhr, Maria would be executed.

Michalis was the one to kill their father, of this Minerva was sure, as she remembered disputes between her brother and father on the subject of the allegiance with Dolhr. Forced to do as her brother said in fear of her younger sister's life, Minerva protected Maria for a total of six years and became a general.

Now this is where things become a little more complicated.

Minerva and her squadron were ordered to attack the small kingdom of Aurelis. During an attack, Minerva noticed some of her men (from Dolhr) wrongfully pillaging and attacking civilians instead of standing at their posts. With the help of mysterious allies (a man, his horseman, and his knight), and a Medonian bishop named Frost, Minerva and her Whitewings dealt with the deserters, and brought down the deserter leader. A Medonian asked Minerva to investigate their mysterious allies, who had already left at that point, expressing belief that their ally was actually the Coyote Hardin and his subordinates. Minerva disapproved of an investigation saying the connection to be impossible. Though, Minerva had known about who Hardin actually was, but as she was under the rule of the Dolhr/Medon alliance, they were nothing more than enemies.

Minerva's army was successful in capturing Aurelis' castle. Because she was still trying to protect Maria, she ordered her army to find Hardin and the princess Nyna, but Marth's army intercepted them and retook Aurelis' castle. As it was supposed to be under her control and was taken away, Minerva was punished by being put under General Harmein whose tactics she despised, and she and her Whitewings were ordered by Harmein to stop Marth's army from further reaching Archania. No matter how much she didn't want to follow Harmein's orders and didn't want to fight Marth, Minerva was forced to with her sister's life on the line.

Marth's army soon came to liberate Aurelis. When the battle between Marth and Harmein reached its peak, Minerva and her Whitewings withdrew and left Harmein for dead. Minerva wanted to lead herself and her Whitewings against Dolhr, but with Maria still in jeopardy, she wasn't able to. She was once again punished, and this time was separated from her Whitewings. Before they were completely separated, she begged Catria to pass along a message to Marth; to rescue Maria from her prison. Still afraid for her sister's safety, Minerva visited the prison herself but was ultimately denied access to Maria. At the same time, Marth's army had arrived to follow along with Catria's message. Relieved, Minerva waited for Marth to rescue Maria. There she spoke with her younger sister again, hopefully discourage her from fighting, but Maria rebuttled with the fact that she would fight so she wouldn't burden her sister again.

"It was said that after Maria was saved, Minerva joined Marth's army to liberate Medon and serve in the campaign against the shadow dragon," I concluded. "Thereafter, she ruled Medon peacefully." For about two years. I could have gone further and longer, but that was the gist of it. I hadn't even gotten into the War of Heroes, or how much more she contributed to the campaign itself.

Gerome had been walking along beside me, seemingly deep in thought about the tale of the legendary wyvern rider, Minerva, or as it was called back then, a dragon knight. I had hoped he was interested. I loved Minerva's tale with all I had. She went to great lengths to ensure her sister's safety, and I only hoped I was good enough for Cynthia.

"Interesting," he said with a hand to his chin in a pensive manner. I was expecting more of a bigger reaction, but this was Gerome, so I suppose I shouldn't have expected much. "Tell me more about Michalis," his request was once again an order. I would have obliged gladly if it weren't for the fact Madame Luella had suddenly appeared in front of both of us in the hallway.

I jumped. I hadn't even seen her! I went into a bow as soon as possible, pushing Gerome's back down to do the same to him. Thankfully he did, albeit grudgingly. "Madame Luella! How may we be of service?" I felt as though I was in great debt to her. Not only did she defend me during council meetings, she offered logical and wise solutions. I respected her greatly.

Madame Luella pointed a long fingernail, sharp as though it could cut iron, in my direction as Geroma and I rose back to our full heights. "Most of your staff has been incapacitated or halted activity altogether for a strange and mysterious reason. We were hoping to gather the council on another important matter, this time concerning you. Would you care to join us?" If Gerome's 'requests,' were meant to intimidate me, then he was on a very, very different level than Madame Luella. The woman had me like a puppet on strings. Respect or not, she was terrifying.

"Of course!" I agreed with fake enthusiasm. I had dreaded what duties laid ahead of me once Amice had given me that tonic. Even if it had gotten rid of my blasted migraine, it had done nothing for my nauseousness.

I waved Gerome a quick goodbye with promises I would teach him more about the three Medonian siblings, to which I received no clear response. Madame Luella, who was feet ahead of me, left me in her dust wondering just how swift she actually was. I caught up with her, and by that time the bouncing of my stomach from my running made me more queasy.

"Here we are," she gestured to the two large, and elaborately patterned doors of the council room. I was panting with my hands on my knees, feeling as though I would throw up any moment. Madame Luella opened the door with no amount of difficulty. I gaped. The first time I had opened those doors, my arms felt heavy.

She walked into the room with grace, her mere presence demanding attention from everyone in the room. I trailed in from behind, pale in comparison. I reached my seat quickly. Whatever needed to be discussed as a last minute council meeting, I wanted it done soon.

The first few minutes were immediately taken up by the oath and general start of every other meeting, normal like always. But I had noticed one of the subjects we were to cover was positions on the battlefield. This was a council meeting, not a war council. This was not supposed to be within our jurisdiction! I blocked out every other conversation of every other topic until we reached the one concerning the battlefield.

Sir Sinjin gave me a look of utmost dourness. "By majority of the council, it was decided it is time you, Exalt Lucina enter the field of battle." He was not serious, he couldn't be. I looked from face to face of each council member, each one stone faced save for Madame Maribelle who gave me a look of sympathy. And then they landed on Madame Luella, stone faced like the others. I expected this decision of Sir Sinjin and Sir Edmundus, hell maybe even Sir Badrick! But Madame Luella? She was someone I looked up to.

I was betrayed.

I was going to throw up.

This one was an interesting one to write. Aside from my portrayal of Lucina drunk, I believe I got her hungover a bit better! Probably not the best, but hey, as someone who's never had a desire to get drunk or hungover, I can only guess.

This chapter is quite an important one as it's leading up to Lucina finally getting out there and it even introduces a secondary plot which I still haven't fully planned out, so please be patient with that! My favourite part of this chapter is actually the whole explanation about Minerva. I absolutely love Shadow Dragon and its story, so I can't help but add it in. I'm so glad Lucina is interested in her world's history! It after this point that events will become more linear too, so instead of small timeskips each chapter, the next chapter will take place directly after the events of this one.

Also, Kamui/Corrin in Smash 4? Geeze, we are really filling up the roster with Fire Emblem characters aren't we? Don't get me wrong, I think it's pretty cool, but I can't help but resent the newer FE games, even Awakening. When I was doing research on Minerva, I felt Shadow Dragon's story was much more compelling than Awakening's. The whole time travel/warnings of the future is a bit cliché, compared to a prince was run out of his own kingdom and has to spend years of training and learning to get it back, or this guy wasn't even a prince he was a damn mercenary, don't you think? Of course, that's just my opinion, so please don't take it to heart.

Other than that, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I definitely won't be able to get another chapter on time for Christmas or New Years, so I might as well say it now. I hope you guys are all warm and fuzzy during this cold season, and if you already live in a warm country then I hope you have fun anyway! Stay cool, I guess?

Also, I'm thinking of starting a Onepunch Man fanfiction with an OC, so if you're interested, I might have it up soon! The anime might have ended and I desperately want more, but maybe once the manga comes up with more material to work with they'll make a second season? Hopefully.

Extra:

Walter couldn't believe his eyes. Was this what had become of his comrades? Skin turning purple on its own accord, eyes gradually becoming more and more red, and the people soon becoming more aggressive.

Their own men were being turned into Risen, was his chilling realization.

The priest had an array of his fellow guards all lined up in linen sheeted beds in various stages of the spreading disease. Sebastian, Rupert, Adrianna, and Gail were the worse out of the other five he was shown.

His fists clenched harder to the point where he could feel his nails through his leather gloves. It didn't make sense. He was with all of them just yesterday. They hadn't gone anywhere outside of the castle walls and courtyard. Suspicions and thoughts invaded his angered mind.

Was getting wounded by a Risen the cause of this revolting transformation? No, his comrades weren't hurt. Was the disease airborne? No, the healers would be able to know just that. Besides, the only way he had heard of Risen ever being summoned was through a…. spellcaster….

There were absolutely no reports ever made about any sorcerer attacking the palace on their own. Especially not one that capable.

And yet, Ylisse and the palace itself had many skillful mages. Was it possible one of them had done it?

Walter marched out of the medical bay with newfound determination. There was a traitor among the midst, and he would do his damndest to find them.

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