"We are afraid of the enormity of the possible." - Emile M. Cioran

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak, I couldn't do a thing. All I could do was watch as they took her down to the infirmary, blood gushing forth from her stomach with no sign of stopping. All four of us children sat outside of the medical bay, waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

There was no witty banter. There was no promise of being a hero. There was no promise of being stronger. There was no jubilant greeting in eccentric sounding English. There was no foresight into rebounding, because we were not strong. We were vulnerable. We were not shepherds, we were lost sheep in the midst of wolves, with neither plan nor guidance.

Owain paced, chewing on the nail of his thumb, and mumbling through it. There was no doubt about what happened, we all had an idea, and I had no want of having my cousin who had just experienced horrors beyond belief repeat them through words. However, we would still need a formal report, and I was sure the medics were curious as well. I suspected Cynthia didn't want be the one to ask, and prior to this incident Kjelle had never met Owain or Aunt Lissa, so it was up to me.

"Who is he?" Kjelle muttered, eyes trained on him as he held his head, still panicking. I motioned for Cynthia, who gave me a less than pleasant look. I jerked my head to Owain, and pointed to myself, then pointed to her and Kjelle. She frowned, and nodded, at least understanding what I meant.

As Cynthia went to talk to Kjelle, I moved towards Owain, who settled on keeping his head between his knees. I tapped his shoulder and was surprised when he jumped like a fish out of water. Wide eyes set on me, he only calmed down minimally. "C-cousin Lucina!" He exclaimed, attempting to retain a valiant composure. His eyes narrowed, he smirked, and stood to his full height, being a few inches taller than me. "What may I provide you with on this eve most superb?"

My brows knit together. "You and I both know it's anything but, Owain." He dropped his pose, mouth falling back into a grimace, and eyes shifting downward. It was hard to ignore what was happening in the other room. It was hard to be positive about it too. "Don't you need to be healed as well?" I softened my voice, rubbing his back.

"N-no," he shook his head, looking down at his crimson stained hands. "Mother took the… brunt of the damage…"

"We should at least make sure nothing's infected or scarring, then you can clean yourself up." I offered. Everything about this was painful. It hurt so much emotionally, I felt like it was physically hurting me.

Owain's shoulders shook. Was he crying? It certainly was the time for it, I didn't blame him. Between his sobs, I realized he was instead laughing. "S-sorry, sorry," he huffed, "I just- this is usually the part where I say, 'Oh, but scars tell tales taller than those I weaved by gods,' but what I was going to say was much more ridiculous and over the top!" His loud laughter filled the dreary room, and my first thought was, 'Oh, gods, he's hurt harder than we thought, he's gone delusional,' but then I realized, he really was hurt harder than we thought, just not in the way that was visible.

I sucked in a shaky breath, watching Owain cackle like a madman. It hurt to see anyone, especially him like this, after not seeing him or Aunt Lissa in years. I wrapped my arms around him quickly, feeling him tense to my touch, and put my mouth to his ear. "You don't have to be strong," I whispered, my throat closing up. "Not right now."

As quick as I had been to reach for Owain, he slowly wrapped his arms around me as well. We hadn't seen each other for what felt like forever, and if this was how I first saw him, with him freaking out and close to breaking down, then I had to do something, even if it was just as small as offering my presence. He didn't shake, he didn't sob, even so, everything about him felt so unguarded.

All of a sudden, it was like we were children again, playing in the fields of tall grass without an inkling of worry about the future, so full of hope… My grip tightened. Weak, helpless children, forced into the dark like rats. That's what we were now.

After a few moments, we released each other from our embrace. "Just out of curiosity, what were you going to say about scars that was so, 'over the top?'" I decided to joke.

Owain rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Honestly? I was just going to say scars are cool,"

I chuckled quietly, patting his shoulder. "Well, you built it all up for nothing, huh?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I guess I did…" He became quiet again, and the air grew more tense.

I was going to have to ask him sooner or later, so why wasn't I doing it now? I resolved myself, saying I was going to be the one to tell him, and it was too late to turn back. I already had Cynthia with Kjelle. I shook my hand around, trying to get some of my butterflies out. "Hey, Owain," I started, looking away. "I know you probably don't want to answer, but we need some form of report." I took a deep breath, looking him in the eye. "What happened out there?"

"It's hard to say for myself," he crossed his arms, closing his eyes in concentration. "It all just happened so fast, you know? One minute, I'm cutting down Risen, the next…" He trailed off solemnly. Normally, he was talkative without conveying much fact wise, but the words he didn't say held so much more.

"I see," I nodded. Even if it wasn't much for a report, I could read between the lines, and I wasn't going to push him to say anymore than he was comfortable with. "You've fought Risen already?" He was only a few months younger than Cynthia. Had the situation in Ferox really gotten so desperate?

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I started a few months ago, actually." I grimaced. Then Owain knew what it was like in battle up close with those things. I wasn't in charge of my cousin, that was all Aunt Lissa, but to have him fight already? It wasn't something I would have done. He didn't seem fazed about admitting it. It made me kind of scared. "Why?"

I shrugged, mouth playing into a small, dreary grin. "They're sending me out in a week or so, I was wondering if you had any pro tips for a rookie like me,"

Slowly, Owain smirked, putting on a dramatic expression once more. "Oh ho! So you're trying to butter me up into giving you Owain Dark's super secret battle techniques!" He crossed his arms, nodding to himself. "Very well, if no one else is willing to give you any insight into fighting, then I suppose it's only courtesy that I take you on as a pupil!" Pointing a finger my way, I couldn't help but crack up. "Lesson number one: always strike to kill!" He held his form like he was holding a sword; crouched down low, feet spread apart, hands downwards and palms facing adjacent directions. Then he swung. "Lesson number two: never let your guard down!" His left hand was placed on the imaginary flat of the blade, the right holding the invisible grip firmly, and his legs poised as if he were pushing something back. "And finally, lesson number three!" He swung wildly, in all directions, finishing it off with a final strike, and flashily twirling the imaginary blade back into its scabbard. "Always have cool attack names at the ready."

"Wow," I clapped. Whatever choreography Owain had really showed, and his advice wasn't bad, if not a bit vague.

Owain bowed heartily. "No need to applaud me, good pupil, 'tis only courtesy for one such as yourself!"

I chuckled. "Well, Sir Owain Dark, please do continue to teach me diligently as your pupil!" I played along. As I expected him to continue with whatever we were doing, there was no answer. When I looked back up at him, Owain was staring at me with a blank expression. "...Is something wrong?" I scratched my cheek nervously.

He rested his head in his hands, groaning slightly. "It's just embarrassing when you do it!"

A little bit affronted, I muttered, "I guess I'll just leave it to you then…" Tapping my foot, I tried to think of anything else I needed to know from Owain. Nothing too strikingly important came to mind. I sighed. "There have been many things you've missed since you had last been here." I said, twirling my finger around the room demonstratively. "And there's someone I want to introduce you to."

Leading Owain, who followed diligently, I brought him over to Cynthia and Kjelle, whose expressions weren't any more happy than what I'd last seen. I looked towards Kjelle for her to get up and meet Owain. "Kjelle, this is Owain, our cousin. Owain, this is Kjelle, a very close friend of ours who I'd gladly call family."

Both of them seeming confident, they both gave a firm handshake. "This isn't exactly the best of circumstances to meet one another," Kjelle said, "but it's a pleasure to meet you nonetheless."

"And I, you." Owain replied.

And it all came back down to waiting from there. Owain wasn't as antsy, which I found to be an improvement, and the atmosphere seemed less frantic at least. Somber was a more appropriate word. Aunt Lissa was in the other room, the screams having died down into fading whimpers. This was what it turned to then? Losing one of the best healers in Ylisse and Ferox, and the underlying message that Ferox could have fallen? It wasn't spoken aloud, but it was in the air, almost impossible to let go of.

If Ferox had truly fallen, were Aunt Lissa and Owain their last line of defense? And with a another nation taken out, humanity as a collective whole lost tremendous power. The next battle would take place at the Border Pass too, so it proved Plegia had spread out instead of taking Ylisse out first. They were taking out our allies instead of meeting us head on. As loathe as I was to admit it, it was a good strategy; to take out our branched powers to reduce us to a stump. It made me realize how much we truly lost when we lost Robin.

Tactician wise, we were still in a favourable position. Normally, one would say that in war casualties could never be avoided, but Robin proved otherwise. At least on our side. As our tactician, Virion was still superior than to what we could have had. Casualties were still bound to happen, and it made war all the more realistic, if it wasn't already. It was when it happened to people we cared for that it forced us into a bleaker reality.

Hours passed and we were lead into a dark evening. We had resorted to leaning on each other in waiting; Cynthia on Kjelle and Owain on me. It was hardly a family picture portrait worth position. Huddled together or not, it was uncomfortable. Both Cynthia and Owain were dozing off, and it was justifiable. It was almost past midnight, maybe more.

"What did Cynthia tell you about him?" I asked Kjelle in a hushed tone, deciding there was a better way to pass the time. I struggled in leaning over to her. Owain was still on me.

Kjelle herself struggled to shrug and simply settled for audibly saying, "I don't know." Seeing my raised brow, she elaborated. "The obvious. She said he was your cousin, said he was strange in his own way, dramatic, zealous… There were more words which she used to describe him. Apparently, you haven't seen him for a few years, and he enjoys naming things?" Confused at the end, Kjelle's face scrunched up.

Nostalgically, I grinned and nodded, a certain sadness lingering in my eyes. "Yeah, that's Owain. He might feel a little too much at first, but he's trustworthy and amazing." I glanced at the shoulder he was on, noticing how many years were taken from him once he was at rest.

"What did you talk to him about?" Kjelle asked after a moment of silence.

"Hmm? Oh," I turned back to her. "I just wanted to calm him down, you know? At a time like this, whatever fears and insecurities we have can't be so rampant like his were. They'll just end up making the situation worse." I released a heavy breath after saying that. Never had I ever wanted to do the same as Owain did, to just let it all go.

"It impressed me. How quickly you defused the situation, I mean. I can only imagine your presence was what calmed him. The true mark of a leader, if I do say so myself." The corners of her lips turned upward the lightest bit, as mine consequently turned down.

"Me? Calming?" I scoffed. "I can barely keep my own composure together half of the time, how am I supposed to have a calming presence on others?" Did she not see how I was shaking in my own boots like a terrified coward? Or with how she saw me at my weakest the day before?

Kjelle frowned, but said nothing more about the subject, which she thankfully changed. "I told Cynthia you wanted to talk to her." That caught my attention. I was sure interest was evident enough on my face, and the question she knew I was dying to ask, 'What did she say?' Kjelle continued on. "She wasn't pleased, you can imagine why, but she agreed to at least talk to you after we find out how your Aunt Lissa is doing."

I breathed a sigh of both relief and tension. I'd be confronting Cynthia again after this then. I had to come up with what I was going to say. I thanked Kjelle gratefully. "I think I'm going to try and get a bit of sleep in, you should do the same." I said, leaning back in my seat, Owain's head following me.

I didn't get a single wink of sleep that night. I was too stressed. With Aunt Lissa, and now the impending conversation with Cynthia, I didn't know how I couldn't be stressed. I at least needed to sort things out mentally.

Aunt Lissa was the first priority. I wasn't sure if she would survive anyway, which served to make me feel worse. The Roster began to whither, yes, but that only signaled twenty four hours of a countdown until death. Of course, during those twenty four hours, something could be able to change. If bringing Aunt Lissa to the medical bay could somehow mean she was able to survive, then I was going to cling to that hope. Even so, if the Roster predicted that Owain would bring her here time wise, then was she doomed within the hours she would remain here? I would have to check the Roster itself to prove or disprove either of my points, the only problem with that was that I needed to get up, with a human having the equivalent weight of an elephant on me. I'd check as soon as he got up.

Then there was the entirely different problem on how to approach Cynthia. What I did was being an overprotective arse with good reasons but poor delivery. Even then, I didn't know if my reasons for Cynthia to not enter the battlefield were good ones; they were selfish ones. I only wanted her safety, nothing more than that, and it couldn't have been more simple. But I screwed up royally. And I made her hate me. My own sister who once looked up to me as her hero now looked like a villain. It made my heart beat increase with its own despair. So what was I going to say to her when the time came? "I'm sorry," wouldn't suffice nearly enough as words to express my actual feelings. Would I need a full on rant to make myself and my sister feel better? Probably. The gist of what I wanted to say was that I was being overprotective, an idiot, and generally a horrible person. I shouldn't have tried to use power and force to keep her from doing something; that was a disgusting move of me to make.

Between my loud thoughts, there were servants and staff who came by, offering to bring us blankets or to move Cynthia, Owain, and me to our quarters, to which Kjelle humbly denied. She knew we all wanted to wait outside the bay, and nothing was going to move us, even the staff. It wasn't like we were cold either. Body heat kept us warm for a good while.

There wasn't a whole lot going on after that. It was just more waiting from there on, and boy was it frustrating. There wasn't a clock in the room, yet I still heard the maddening sound of one ticking viciously in my mind. It was impossible to sleep. It didn't help my mind which didn't feel like the safest place to be in. Aunt Lissa being so close to death would be in my nightmares, haunting me like a ghost, it was inevitable.

By the time morning came, or what I could tell it was morning by how staff members began to bustle with their duties, I could feel the bags beneath my eyes by simply closing them. I felt a nudge on my left, both pointy and cold; Kjelle's armour. Lazily turning my head towards her, I bid her good morning to which she reciprocated. "It's early morning, dawn I'd say," she murmured softly.

I heard Owain groan and I looked back to him, seeing a large wet spot on my shoulder. I recoiled slightly from disgust. Urgh, I should have been more careful about him drooling on me. Dabbing it slightly with my sleeve, I sighed defeatedly. It'd dry soon. Hopefully.

"Good morning!" Owain exclaimed loudly. Soon realizing his mistake, he said it a second time, this time in a more quiet tone. "Has everyone woken?"

I gave him a blank look. In character even after sleeping. He sure liked to method act, that was for sure. Kjelle answered, "Cynthia is still sleeping." She pointed to her shoulder where Cynthia's head was resting. That couldn't have been comfortable. Her neck was bent and laying on metal armour. It wasn't like she was sleeping on a pillow. Just then, she groaned, placing a hand on her neck, the other one stretched out in the air.

"Owwww, my neck feels sore!"

"It's your own fault for thinking my armour was the best place to sleep." Kjelle said monotonously, pushing Cynthia off of her in a not too softly manner.

I shook my head impatiently. "Do you know when we can go in?" I asked. I sensed Owain was about to ask the same thing. But they had to have prepared Aunt Lissa already, it was hours, and yet I wasn't sure if those hours were enough.

Kjelle frowned and crossed her arms. "Supposedly they don't want to let visitors or family in for two more days." Beside me, Owain slumped. It was understandable. They wanted to be certain Aunt Lissa would be more recovered when she got visitors, and a day after she came in was much too soon to have them. But she was family. There was no way we weren't going to see her.

"That's it then…?" Owain muttered. I didn't know what happened out there, but if he was anything like me, then he was beating himself up over it, probably thinking, "what if I'd been faster? What if I saw what happened? Why didn't I look back?"

I placed my hand on his back, rubbing it in a circular motion slowly. "It seems so." I addressed all of us. "We should make ourselves comfortable if we're going to be waiting for two days. I'll go get us breakfast. Cynthia, why don't you come with me?" I got up, butterflies fluttering around my stomach. This was happening much sooner than I anticipated. Not only would this allow me to speak with my younger sister, but maybe Kjelle and Owain would get to know each other a little better.

Cynthia jogged to catch up with me, but still held some distance between us. My face scrunched up as we reached the dining hall, the dining table filled with food, much like a buffet. "Now or never, now or never," I mentally chanted in repetition. I decided I was going to speak up. "You know I wouldn't ask you to come with me if I didn't want to talk to you." I played with an apple in my hand, using the other to pop a grape in my mouth, rolling it around in my mouth before sinking my teeth into it.

Cynthia scowled uncharacteristically, picking up a plate of crumpets. "Maybe I don't want to talk to you," she rebuttled, looking away in favour of the food. She was trying to act tough. She wouldn't have considered talking to me if it weren't for Kjelle.

"Maybe," I breathed shakily, "I wanted to apologize." Cynthia's brows shot up, and I continued, sensing her curiosity. "I want to apologize for what I did. ...I was an arse, I was being controlling, and I tried to use my power as Exalt for something extremely unjust… But I won't apologize for what I meant," her eyes narrowed significantly, and I was treading on thin ice. "The reason I don't want you out there is because I'm scared, and selfish, and overprotective. I don't want you to fight because I hate the idea that you have to, you know...?" I sighed, running a hand through my long hair. I said my piece, though I didn't know if I was satisfied with it. Maybe I should have said more, but my moment was over, and it was too late to say anything else.

"What if I want to fight? What then?" She asked defiantly, placing a hand on her hip.

"Then," I spoke slowly and paused, thinking over my answer. "I'd support you, but I'd need to know that you're safe." I gulped, regretting my answer. I was really stepping out of my comfort zone.

Seemingly surprised, her mouth quirked upwards slightly. "Alright," she decided, not saying anything else..

Alright? Alright, what? Fidgeting with the apple, I heard Cynthia's small huff of a giggle. Eyes narrowing on her, I realized she was purposefully keeping me in suspense. My eyebrow twitched. Even when it seemed like she forgave me, my little sister was still so troublesome. "Alright, well, let's get breakfast to the others." I picked up a plate of muffins, while Cynthia took her crumpets, with a hushed, "sure."

So, that was it? I was forgiven? Or not? I felt as though words weren't enough though, I had to actually do something more to redeem myself in her eyes, what it was going to be, I didn't know. I had to make it up to her somehow. Maybe I could show her that I was serious about being safe during battle. We could spar at our fullest, whoever won got bragging rights, and she could prove to me she was strong enough. I noted it for later. It was the best I had so far.

As we gave breakfast to the fatigued Kjelle and Owain, I asked the staff to set up a permanent residence for my cousin. He tried to protest, but Kjelle reminded him he didn't have anywhere else to go bluntly. Reluctantly, Owain agreed to the having his own room, and I made him clean himself up once he was done eating.

And as we ate, we knew we had to wait, and wait, and wait, in a tense, uncomfortable silence.

I was worried this chapter would come up shorter than intended, but I'm glad it was a bit longer than intended, especially since the majority is based around a single event, and is dialogue heavy. So, Lissa. There's not much hope for her, but we'll see what happens. Owain is back with her, too! How great is that? We finally have our resident dramatist! There wasn't much room in this chapter for his amazing way of speech, but I think it's pretty justifiable. You wouldn't really be the happiest camper if your mother was dying in the other room. And it seems Cynthia and Lucina have reconciled, or have they?

It sucks because, while I said my resolution was to get two chapters of this fic per month, it might not happen this month because exams are unfortunately a thing. So, please be lenient in that case.

Reviews are love and motivation!