"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding." - Khalil Gibran

There was always something eating at me everyday, I found. It was my anxiousness and fear, and the feeling of being overwhelmed by my duties. There seemed to be no end to it. My fears were like a tunnel with no light at the end of it, it only had different paths here and now to distract me for a short while. And though it felt like it was impossible, my tunnel kept getting darker and darker. Thankfully, to keep me from going deeper, I had found another path; training.

Training was my lifestyle, ever since I had entered into it. Every day, it was training, whether it was working on a new technique, or it was practicing an old one. The broken dummies could attest to how dedicated I was to meeting my personal training quota. Frederick drilled it into me. One session after every meal; early morning, early afternoon, and early evening. And from there, it repeated all over again. If time had not been on my side for a day, I would move my training sessions a bit over.

Training allowed me to clear my mind of all of its weariness for every time it was apparent. Every worry I had up until training just disappeared, and what agression I carried never needed to be vented out by my words, only actions. I wasn't silver tongued in the slightest, and sometimes words eluded me. The only times I bothered watching what I spoke was around the council… And thinking of them…

THUNK!

Falchion cut through the large log with ease, slicing it like a warm knife through butter. Was it releasing the full extent of my rage? No. Did it alleviate at least a few dolorimeters of pain? Yes. (And yes, I knew dolorimeters are used to measure physical pain, but frankly, I didn't care. Besides, science was not my forte.) Funds were getting low, and Frederick shouldn't have bothered getting those expensive dummies anymore. It didn't do anyone good except for me, which made me feel selfish. So as a substitute, I decided I'd just cut up firewood. It served as both training and helped with our collection of lumber. Two birds, one stone.

The only problem with using a log as a substitute dummy was that it would sometimes wobble once Falchion struck (which was a given), and it didn't allow me to practice a new original technique I'd been working on. This new technique required an opponent being able to stand a few strikes, and a log was hardly suitable given that one requirement.

My hand tightened around Falchion's hilt. The technique was fully tested out, but I wanted a chance to at least use it against a Risen in the upcoming battle. I still had some time left. I could go on without a log and practice the swings into it, to make sure each strike was consistent and flowed well. I nodded to myself determinedly.

I closed my eyes, imagining my opponent in front of me. A Risen soldier, skin dry as leaves, cracking, mouth opening to let out a disgusting purple gas, eyes beady and red. It was a dangerous foe indeed. Abruptly, I opened my eyes and dashed to where my opponent would be, slashing from my side until Falchion's edge touched the ground. Using the time it would take to gather itself, I lifted Falchion from the ground, tilting the blade so it would reach upwards into a vertical slash, then reached over for a diagonal slash. The Risen would stumble back, and I would lunge to cover the gap between us to deliver multiple piercing strikes from the point of the blade. With a final strike from the point, I pushed the Risen back as it sank to its knees, dead. I sighed dejectedly, standing back upright. Or so I hoped it would be dead.

I didn't know how this technique would work against a live opponent. So, in a way, the technique was still incomplete. Dancing Blade wasn't complete. I huffed to myself, wondering why I called it Dancing Blade in the first place. Oh yes, because the move itself wasn't very original at all, it was an attempt at recreating one of the Hero King's own techniques, and I was horrible at naming things. And I was arrogant in thinking all the information I needed rested in one of my history books.

It was ridiculous, yes, however I refused to give up on it. It was much too interesting, and I was not about to throw it away for something subpar. Besides, this was only one variation of Dancing Blade, there were a few more I could further attempt. Right, the first strike was the same, it was the follow up that was different and unique to the other two variations.

The first variation of the second strike was the one I just did. There was a second variation to the second strike, and all it was, was a forward jab, like a rapier. Then, there were three variations to the third strike following the second. The first one, following the first variation of the second strike, was a lunge into a horizontal slash. The attack followed from a downwards, to upwards, and the lunge. The second variation was downwards, to upwards, and the multiple strikes. And the last one was downwards, to upwards, and one last stab to the shins. It wasn't fatal, but it caught the opponent off guard, which I could then use to follow with a finishing blow.

It sounded confusing, I was aware. Imagine my confusion from attempting to learn it from a history book. To be fair, it was a very detailed book, and did a better job than I did at explaining it to myself. The times I made a mistake transitioning or confusing one variation with another was countless. There was one time I tried using it in a spar with Cynthia, and it ended with me spinning and falling on my butt, spooking Orchid who almost stepped on me. Fun times, I thought sarcastically. Nothing beat almost being crushed by your sister's pegasus.

Shaking my head, I sliced Falchion in the air a few more times, not adding any style or technique to it, swinging only for fun. If Frederick was here he'd no doubt scold me. Lucina! Falchion is not to be toyed with! It is an heirloom filled with a precious history! Or something along those lines, only I knew how precious Falchion was, as both my late father's sword, and the sword that belonged to a plethora of important historical figures, like the Hero King. Of course, this argument would go unheard by Frederick, but I didn't mind much because I knew he meant well in the end.

"Knock knock!" Came a cheery voice from the the side of the courtyard. Following the voice was the sound of horseshoes clopping on the ground. I turned around to find Cynthia who was leading Orchid out, and I blinked confusedly. What was she doing here? Hadn't Owain roped her into something with him?

"There isn't even a door there." I snorted, wiping my blade on my tunic, wood dust having gotten on my clothes. I placed Falchion in its scabbard, walking up to the both of them.

She rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Well, I know that! I just got your attention, and it worked!" She grinned and Orchid whinnied. Despite having fought and made up, things still felt tense between the both of us, even through her grins and smiles. We weren't at a bad place, yet we weren't at the best of places either. It was different than usual, and I didn't know if I liked it.

"So," I trailed off, turning around to set up another log. "I'm assuming you want to spar?" I asked, taking out Falchion and slicing the wood. It rested as it as for a moment, then it all collapsed into lumber. Into the large pile they go, I thought. It was a little less tall than me, but it was a large pile nonetheless.

She nodded determinedly, a smile still there on her face. I shrugged. "Well, help me get this firewood in, first. Then we can set up the field for us." Cynthia ran a hand down Orchid's forehead to her muzzle, requesting that she stay and wait for a moment. I smiled softly while Cynthia hadn't been looking. Seeing her interact with her mount, her partner, and long time friend, gave off a warm and calming feeling. It was nice.

I crouched, picking up a dozen or so logs in my arms. It wasn't light, not in the slightest, but if Cynthia could pick up the remaining pieces of lumber, then we were fine. I looked back at her, then behind her to see if she really had picked them all up. She had. But she looked like she was struggling to keep them up if her huffing and puffing was any indication. "Got them all?" I inquired with an amused smirk.

She jerked her head up and down frantically. "Oh, yeah, I have them!"

"Need any help?"

"No, not at all!" A piece of lumber from her pile suddenly dropped, and she looked down at it with a groan. Her eyes came back up to meet mine, silently pleading for me to help. I snorted. Instant irony. Seeing as my hands were full, I couldn't bend to pick it up either, so I settled for nudging it with my foot to our destination. It wasn't far off, we didn't have to go to the second floor. We could drop all the wood off in storage, or in the convoy. The troops could always use a few extra logs.

Dropping them into a large chest, Cynthia thought, "I wonder what we're having for dinner tonight…?"

I gave her a look filled with confusion. "It was only lunch an hour ago and you're wondering that now?" I huffed a laugh, shaking my head as I organized the logs properly so we could fit more. Cynthia was a gem.

"I'm just wondering!" She exclaimed, lifting her hands up beside her defensively. "I'm really hungry!"

"Of course you are," I chuckled, moving one piece of lumber over the other, stacked like a pyramid.

"You're so mean!" She teased, sticking a tongue out at me.

Now, usually, this was the part where I'd repeat after her, saying in a louder and whinier voice that she was mean. Repetition was our humour. But the tension between us was still there, and I wasn't going to deny it. It would feel forced otherwise. I wasn't going to repeat after her. And with how mean I'd been to her before… "Yeah, I guess I am." I murmured solemnly, closing the now filled chest.

Cynthia frowned, but said nothing as I moved from her slowly. "Come on," I said, throwing an arm over my shoulder, "let's go set up." We moved to another area of the storage room, as I collected two wooden weapons, a sword and a lance. I offered her the lance.

"Actually," she showed hesitance, pushing the lance back into my hand. "I was hoping we could use… real weapons…"

Slightly shocked, I put the two training weapons away. "Yeah, yeah, sure! We can do that." My enthusiasm felt so very fake. My hands began to shake as we walked back to the courtyard. She wanted to use our actual weapons?! With what rules? Until someone yielded or until someone bled?! I had agreed to her too quickly, I realized. And what if this was some form of releasing her aggravation on me? What if she planned to hurt me? Wait a minute Lucina, I thought to myself, she's your sister, she'd never hurt you!

And yet, despite what comfort I tried to provide myself with, there were still thoughts of something more foul lingering in my mind. We readied the yard, cleaning up what wood chips were left over. Soon, when it felt like it was too soon, we were about to begin our spar. "Alright," I said, shaking a hand out, with the other on Falchion's hilt, "until one of us yields, we keep going. Got it?"

She mounted her pegasus, rubbing Orchid's neck, and nodded with resolve. I gulped loudly. If there was any hope of this ending well at all, that hope was crushed. She whispered something into Orchid's ear to which the pegasus whinnied. I was too far away to hear anything. "You don't mind if I say it, do you?" She bounced giddily. I shook my head and Cynthia seemed to quake with excitement. "Yes!" She exclaimed with a pumped fist.

"3…" I readied my stance.

"2…" My fingers curled around Falchion's grip.

"1…" I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"Start!"

As soon as the word left her mouth, Cynthia snapped Orchid's reins, planning to charge on me. I stood defiantly, prepared to be on my defense, and turned the flat of my blade towards her. My leg twitched. That's right. If she was planning to rush me down, I'd need to fall away from her initial strike, first. That was what Frederick taught me about mounted units.

In mere seconds, Orchid had galloped the metres left between us, and in the last few feet, she lifted a good foot or two in the air. Cynthia held her steel lance high, and struck, the sound of it ringing off of Falchion. With both her and Orchid's weight on me, I knew I'd never be able to hold them off. Experimentally, I tightened my grip around my blade, and as quick as I could muster, I side stepped, taking a hand off, using my dominant hand to swing my sword as a warning sign, as she quickly withdrew her lance.

Cynthia hadn't seemed to give up. In fact, it felt like her determination only increased. She kept attacking, insistent on there not being room for me to make a move. I was going to have to keep evading unless I wanted to get hit. She was using her superior speed against me, I realized. A good move.

No matter what, all of her attacks were light. She didn't yet dare to go into heavier attacks. She wasn't putting her full weight into it like she did at first. But she couldn't keep attacking like this. She was expending all of her energy, and it wouldn't do her any good if I countered when she was finally open.

I ducked another one of her strikes, redirecting the one which followed with Falchion. I just had to play this patiently. If I waited long enough… There! I jumped at my chance and found myself satisfied with the shocked look on Cynthia's face, only for mine to turned shocked as well. Abruptly, I was pushed back, and landed as hastily as I could.

What had pushed me? My head whipped back to find Orchid's head shaking, letting out high pitched whines. My eyes widened. Had Orchid been the one to push me back? To stop me from landing a hit on Cynthia?

All signs pointed to yes. This was the extent of their partnership then. Orchid was protecting Cynthia, and in exchange, Cynthia was protecting the both of them. A newfound panic set in.

In all of my lessons with him, Frederick had specifically said I would be at a disadvantage against large mounted units. I wouldn't be safe against them. And as my sister planned to charge again, head held high, I was able to see just how right he was.

As soon as she snapped her reins, we were once again interlocked in a fierce battle, though it was easy to tell I was losing my footing on the situation. I wasn't going to be able to keep up, was my dawning realization. I tried to shake it off, but emotions like this weren't the easiest to keep at bay.

Just keep fighting, an irritated part of me shouted. Don't give in, you need to win this!

So I pushed back. Harder. And I eventually got the first cut.

Cynthia's defense had been lowering ever so slowly with each advance I put on her. And when Orchid had been too slow to respond to my movements, I managed a small scratch on Cynthia's cheek. It wasn't much, but wearing a proud grin, I decided it was enough to satisfy me.

Funnily enough, my guard had dropped then, too. Appropriately, Cynthia had taken the chance to inflict damage upon me too. It was identical to hers. A shallow cut on the right cheek.

We both grinned. This was only the beginning.

I dashed forward, finally taking some initiative, and decided to jab at her in rapid succession. There was a clear difference in our speeds here. While Cynthia's speed was based on Orchid's quick movements, mine was solely dependant on myself. There was less weight on me to slow me down.

There wasn't any clear hit on my sister, but Orchid…

I hadn't intended to hit her, not at all. With the way they were both maneuvering, it was almost impossible to not hit the pegasus. She was such a big target. And she had been in so many battles before too, so I had no concept of understanding as to how it happened.

I ended up piercing Orchid in her forearm. It wasn't enough to hurt her too badly, but it was definitely enough to spook her, and for her to throw Cynthia off. With my younger sister rolling on the ground, I looked at the blood on Falchion's tip with a sick feeling in my stomach, and quickly put it back in its scabbard.

When she finally stopped and stayed still for a second too long, I shook my head and ran after her. "Cynthia!" I slid on my knees, going next to her and trying to shake her up. "Cynthia, are you alright?!" Her breathing was lowered and I feared for the worst. I shook harder. "Cynthi-!" Abruptly, a lance was shoved in my face, the tip of it was a good few inches from my face.

My eyes frantically landed on Cynthia's. Her hair was drawn almost everywhere, and sweat was dripping down her face. This was her last fighting strength, her trump card. "Do… I… win?" She breathed.

I held my hands up, trying to come up with any kind of defense I could possible think of. Falchion was already in its scabbard, and by the time I would bring it back out, I'd be dead. I was weaponless, and cornered.

My shoulders dropped from their tenseness, and I sighed. "Yeah," I grinned, looking at her expectant and excited expression, "yeah, you win."

Her smile was wide, like a beam of sunshine, and she laughed and hollered proudly. I was proud of her too. It might have been underhanded, and it wouldn't be certain how she would face against an opponent willing to strike for her vitals, but she had defeated me, truly. I was a bit disappointed in myself as it could have been a good chance to practice Dancing Blade, but I quickly decided I didn't care. Cynthia was more important to me.

I offered her my hand, and with hers clasped in mine, I pulled her back up. I took a look at the both of us. Yup, we were both covered with scratches and dirt. "Come on, let's go clean up." I said, moving towards Orchid who had taken to sitting. "Do you think she'll be alright? I hit her unintentionally."

I didn't know Cynthia's grin could get any wider. "Oh yeah, I'll take care of her! She's gonna get all the carrots in the world for what she did!" She exclaimed, holding her arms out as if that was all the carrots in the world.

I huffed a laugh, moving towards the door. "Save some for the other animals, right? You can give her half of the world's carrots at most."

Cynthia giggled and I felt my heart warm. It was as if what tensions there were between us had been taken out earlier. I was glad. And I laughed as I pushed her along inside.

As we walked back into the palace, the staff were bustling like madmen. A knot tied in my stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Without thinking, I grabbed one of the guards by the arm. "What's happening?" Beside me, Cynthia was looking on in barely concealed panic. She knew it too.

"Y-your Grace!" The guard saluted hastily. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead.

"What's happening?" I repeated monotonously. I wasn't going to say it again.

"T-there have been complications regarding Lady Lissa's condition…"

My mind was in a flurry of trapped dread. Cynthia spoke up. "What kind of complications?" Her tone was deadly.

The guard breathed a shaky sigh. "Its would be best if you saw it for yourselves."

As expected, he began to lead us to the medical bay, and on the way there, my anxieties grew. We were suddenly thrust into this and there was no proper time to actually ponder on it. Aunt Lissa… If she was really hurt, then what we saw was not going to be good.

Reaching the door to the bay, we heard the banging of knuckles on wood. "Let me in this instant! You know who I am, and I need to see her!" She couldn't have…

We rounded the corner, and there was Madame Maribelle. I grimaced. This was painful. Her eyes locked on me, and they lit up like I was the best thing she saw all day. "Darling, you're here! Listen, I need you to get me in there immediately!" She looked mad. Her eyes had deep bags underneath, and like my sister and I, her hair was almost everywhere. She suddenly had gotten a better look at the both of us. "Goodness, what have you two done?!"

I could have asked the same thing… "Just a bit of training," I decided on waving her off. I turned back to the guard who lead us here and nodded to him appreciatively. "Thank you for informing us. You can go back to your duties." He inclined his head and scurried off, going to wherever he was needed.

I turned back to my sister. "Cynthia, if there's anything going on with her, you need to get Owain."

"Owain?" I heard Maribelle inquire worriedly. "You mean Lissa's son? Darling, you can't be serious!"

I ignored her in favour of Cynthia. "Do you understand?"

Thankfully, she did. She nodded, and went to find Owain. At this time of day, he'd probably be in his room or inspecting the armory. It had been what he'd been doing ever since we couldn't get a clear read on Aunt Lissa's condition.

I sighed, turning back to Madame Maribelle, who had a hand firmly planted on her waist. She raised a brow to which I shrugged. "Why are you bringing Owain here?" She asked.

Moving closer to the door, I replied. "He was the one that brought the both of them here. He deserves to see his mother, no matter what state she may be in." It was better to see her when she was low, than to never see her again. Besides, of the two, the latter would be worse on him emotionally. He would beat himself up over it whether he'd known or not.

"We can go ahead," I murmured. I knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. Nothing. I knocked again. Still nothing.

"They haven't let anyone in for the past hour or so. I'm uncertain whether that will change now." It was like the entire castle was filled with an uneasy liveliness save for the medical bay. So why weren't there staff here? Aunt Lissa was in there, an important character, and part of the royal family. They shouldn't have been about to abandon her. Not to mention they had a plethora of other ill and sick soldiers.

I glanced at Madame Maribelle out of the corner of my eye, nervously. "I'm sure they'll let us in." I hoped they'd let us in.

Eventually, the door opened the slightest crack, and a voice came out, snapping with anger. "What is it you lot want?"

"You'd best watch your tone," Madame Maribelle rebuked, taking my place at the front. "You do realize you're speaking to the Exalt and a council member, do you not?"

I shook my head. Intimidation tactics were not the way I wanted to go about this. "Sir, please," I begged earnestly, "we need to see Lady Lissa as soon as we can."

Almost reluctantly, the door fully opened, revealing the priest who had helped me only a few days prior. He looked exhausted. I almost felt bad for the man. The only things was, was that I had more pressing matters at hand.

"Forgive me for my rudeness," he bowed, not seeming like he was sorry at all.

Madame Maribelle scoffed. "Forgive you? Do you really think we-"

I put out a hand in front of her, effectively stopping her midway through her sentence. "It's alright," I said. "We just need to see her now."

The priest frowned, and folded his hands. "At least let me ask you one question first." I nodded, and he held his index finger up for emphasis. "If someone precious to you was severely injured, why haste to save them so?"

I tilted my head. What kind of question was that? It was almost ridiculous in a sense. "Because they're important," I responded solemnly. "If the person is important to me, then I want to do everything in my power to help them."

It seemed uncertain for a good few moments. He didn't move and neither did we. Then his head turned, and his body followed back into the infirmary. "You may enter." He breathed in his wispy tone of voice.

If this served for anything, it only enforced the notion that something was wrong. We went through many doors, and through them, the faint coughing which had been here earlier, grew worse, and worse. I grimaced. They must have been hacking up blood with how bad they had it. And then, we were steps away from Aunt Lissa's room. The door had her name on it.

"I must warn you," the priest said, "what you're about to see won't be very pleasing."

Madame Maribelle crossed her arms with a huff. "Do you truly believe we don't know that? Please just open the door!" He did so.

The door fell open, and we walked inside. My heart was breaking. Aunt Lissa had gone pale, as white as the sheets covering her. Her breathing was laboured, and the blood around her midsection looked like it hadn't been cleaned since she arrived.

"We've changed her bandages several times. She's bled through almost all of them." He said, moving beside me. I covered my gaping mouth. It was horrible, this feeling.

Madame Maribelle had moved beside Aunt Lissa, took a chair, and grabbed her friend's hand, holding it close to her face. Looking closer, I saw tears gathering in the corners of Madame Maribelle's eyes, and they dripped down onto Aunt Lissa's hand.

I couldn't take it. I just couldn't. I stormed out of the room, back to the outside of the bay. It reeked of death, and hopelessness. It was foul. As I ran, I bumped into someone's chest, and they took my wrist. I shook my head, and looked up. It was Walter.

"Lucina?" He inquired. "What's wrong?"

I tried to gain my composure, and rubbed at my eyes. "N-nothing," I blubbered falsely, "nothing's wrong."

"You're lying," he stated with narrowed eyes. I was a horrible liar. "What's wrong?" He repeated, this time in a softer tone.

I shook my head, unable to look up at him. "Sorry. I don't… I don't want to talk about it…"

Walter sighed. "Fair enough, but there is something I want to talk to you about."

I raised a brow hesitantly. I hoped it wasn't anything grave, but with the profound look on his face, it could only be serious. "What is it?"

He pulled me aside and looked both ways almost suspiciously. Then, he leaned in closer to whisper. "I saw something really disturbing the other day. The soldiers that are sick? They're turning purple. They're eyes are turning red. They look like they're morphing into the dead outside."

An alarmed look crossed my face, and I gulped. That couldn't have been possible, right? That was not possible. There was no way!

Walter raised his hand. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I saw it with my own eyes. I wouldn't lie about this." He sighed. "I think someone is trying to play us all for fools. There's only one type of person who can do this sort of thing. It has to be a mage." He jerked his thumb to himself. "I want to find out who's doing this, but I can't do it alone. Will you help me?"

My eyes widened. He was literally putting a bomb on me. And now, not only did I have to worry about my family, and the war, but now I had to worry about a rat among the mages?! I shook my head hysterically, and let out a humorless laugh. What else was expected of me?

"I'm sorry, Walter." I said sincerely, with a sad smile. It was hard to tell how much of it was crazy, and how much of me was tearing up from the crazy. "But I can't. I have too much on my plate already. I'm sure you can-"

"LISSA!" My heart dropped to my stomach, and I ran back into the bay. I didn't look back to see if Walter followed.

I went back through the halls, trying to remember where the room was. I slammed the door open, and Madame Maribelle was openly sobbing onto Aunt Lissa. She wasn't breathing. She wasn't breathing.

Only one thought passed through my mind as I heard footsteps stampeding their way here. Shit.

I am so sorry for this being so late! I've just had a bunch of writer's block for this chapter, and the fact I have a lot of homework this semester does not help. But anyway, here it is!

So, Lucina and Cynthia working things out, and Maribelle, and Walter, and Lissa's dead. Oh no… This chapter was really rushed too, so I am so sorry for the lack of quality here. I'll try to get out as many chapters as I can, but I want to try and work at my own pace. It's better to have better quality chapters than bad quality chapters, right? We'll see how it goes. Also, Fire Emblem Fates, huh? ...I can't get it... My 3DS is still busted, and I am literally broke. ...Someone, please send help...

Reviews are love and motivation!