Interlude - Exile

Kris POV

Altea's fallen. That, in of itself, was weird as hell. But the fact that I escaped, with the last known member of the royal family and his knights? That was weirder than hell. I have no idea what's going on, or what is going to happen.

I'm just a thief with a bit of magic, or a mage with a talent for stealing. I wish I had killed my conscience. This is all its fault.

When you were on a ship, there was one thing that instilled absolute terror: the crew freaking out.

"We've got trouble!" Everyone was scrambling, shoving us this way and that. Marth and I ended up thrown into the railing of the deck as the ship rocked. "Damn it! Looks like they caught up!"

Marth and I dragged ourselves up and saw there were other ships trying to surround us. Black sails and dark wood made them look like something from a child's nightmare. We looked at each other, not quite comprehending what was going on. Who were these people? Why were they surrounding us?

"You need to go!" "Our horses can't come with us!" "Leave the armor! My men will wear it to be bait!"

Marth winced at the word 'bait', and I thought of Frey, who we left to die. The ship rocked again, and I saw someone on one of the other ships aiming what looked to be a fireball.

Automatically, I cast a thunder spell, intercepting the fire magic and striking the hull of the other ship. It blackened, cracked, and broke, taking on water as people shrieked in terror. I heard them even as our ship took advantage of the sudden hole in the guard and caught a current and wind that sent us sailing into freedom.

I heard them later as I puked up my guts, when I realized what I did. I'd killed those people. They were dead, drowned, and it was my fault. I killed them.

Marth sat next to me, rubbing my back and holding back my hair. He never told the others that the thunder had come from me, when everyone wondered why one ship suddenly started sinking. I never told either. It was our secret.

The rest of the trip was relatively peaceful, though I was sick for the rest of it. Marth lied and said it was seasickness, and he sat with me as I rested and tried not to throw up again.

When we arrived at Talys, two people were waiting for us, a man with white-streaked blue hair and a young girl who looked just enough like the man that I thought they might be related. They both waited for us, even though there was a fierce storm and the rain was downright bruising.

"Prince Marth," the man greeted. He knelt to look him in the eye. I almost felt like crying when I saw how gentle he seemed; he reminded me of Grandfather. "I am Mostyn, king of Talys. I wish we could have met in better circumstances."

"Thank you very much for giving us sanctuary," Prince Marth replied. His words were wooden, and I thought that everything finally caught up. We were on foreign soil. Altea was gone. "I… appreciate it."

"I'm sure you'd appreciate a warm bath and a bed even more." Mostyn stood and gestured to the girl. "This is Caeda, my daughter. She's a year younger than you." The girl smiled sweetly, and walked up. Only then did I realize she was holding what looked to be woven necklaces. "She insisted on giving you all a Talysi welcome gift."

"You're our guests, and the necklaces are supposed to bring good fortune and better dreams," Caeda explained. She fitted the first necklace around Marth's neck and smiled. I almost laughed when I realized Marth stared at her like she was something otherworldly. "I'm not sure of what all is going on, but I hope your stay is comfortable." She gave us all necklaces, and then Mostyn led us to what he called the 'eastern villa', where warm baths, clean clothes, and even things for the horses waited.

I passed out while taking a bath, the heat making me too dizzy. I was told Norne got me wrapped up in a towel, and Cain carried me to bed. I avoided them both for a few days after that, far too embarrassed.

At some point after we settled in, Caeda appeared on a pegasus, with a mercenary bodyguard in tow. She cheerfully introduced him as Ogma, and just as cheerfully gave us the story Mostyn was using to cover for who Marth was. He took advantage of the shared hair color to say Marth was a distant relative who had been displaced by the chaos, and that the rest of us were friends who managed to escape with him.

Whether or not Ogma actually believed the story, he took it in stride, and mentioned that Mostyn had asked him to teach Marth some swordsmanship. Marth jumped at the chance, and soon, Marth and Ogma were training in the courtyard, where Caeda cheered them on. I watched them from the window, frowning at how 'jagged' Marth's movements were. It didn't fit the pretty boy prince I was used to.

"Ah, there you are." Jagan walked up then, and joined me by the window. "How are you?" he asked, peering at me curiously. "Has your seasickness abated?"

"I think so," I answered with a shrug. I continued to look outside, noticing how green everything was. "Things are still weird, though."

"Yes, they are." He fell silent, and I knew he wanted to ask something he thought might be 'sensitive'. "May I ask what you were doing in the palace?"

"I'm a thief. I was there to steal." There was no point in lying. "It's not my normal work, but the guard was bad."

"Normal work?"

"I typically picked pockets and did roof work." It was a lot easier, and quieter, than plotting out a heist. "But, like I said, the guard was poor. You probably had a lot of things stolen over the last few weeks."

"I see." He paused again. I continued to study the horizon, noticing how different everything looked. "Have you always been a thief?"

"No." My voice was clipped. "No one is born a thief. Most become that to avoid some really bad fates." I glared up at him. "Knights protect the king. You never protected the people who needed the help."

"What fate did you want to avoid?" He didn't seem bothered by my barb.

"Starving, and being surrounded by people who thought they knew my pain after Grandfather died."

"Who was your Grandfather?"

"...His name was Maclir." I heard him gasp at the name. I knew he would. Grandfather was a retired knight, who left the frontlines after a terrible leg injury. "I'm tired. I'm going back to bed."

I ran, and didn't stop until I reached my room, even as Jagan called after me. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to even think about it.

Ogma taught Marth every other day, while Jagan handled other lessons on the off days. I was invited to those other lessons, maths and history and the like, but I didn't want to deal with shit like that, so I avoided them. Instead, I wandered the grounds, looking for all the secret ways in and out. I hadn't found many yet, but it wasn't from a lack of trying.

Grunting caught my ear, and I meandered over to see Cain practicing in a courtyard. I watched him for a while in silence, noticing a desperation to his swings. But when I noticed the blood hitting the ground, I ran to get Abel before Cain bled to death.

Much later, when I was heading back to my room, I heard sobs and hunted down the source. Just as earlier, Cain was the source, and he was crying, whimpering names that I thought might be of the dead. I knew I was right when I heard him whisper, "Frey, I'm so sorry…".

I quietly got Abel again, and left him to cheer up his friend. It wasn't like I knew how to comfort anyone.

Marth and Cain weren't the only ones who trained. The sight of Abel practicing both on foot and on horseback was common in the morning, right after breakfast. Norne and Gordin quickly set up practice targets for their archery, and were out every day, shooting until their hands blistered and bled. When Draug wasn't practicing with his lance, he was lifting weights, and Jagan kept an eye on everyone while practicing as much as his old joints would let him.

At some point, I decided to go off and practice too, mostly because I felt out of sorts. At least when I practiced magic, I felt like I had some control of the world.

But I often had to stop, as sometimes when I cast a spell, I heard the shrieks of the people I had drowned. Whenever that happened, I couldn't sleep until I just passed out, and I barely ate, because my stomach was in knots.

If the others noticed, they didn't comment on it. I wondered if that was a good thing or bad thing.

Sometimes, when I couldn't sleep, I'd make my way to a hill not far from the Villa and lie in the grass, looking at the stars. Grandfather once tried to show me different constellations to try and navigate, but I'd never paid attention. I'd been too focused on whatever sweet he'd given me.

Footsteps caught my ear, and I leaned up to see Marth approach. He paused when he saw me looked, but came to my side when I waved him forward. "You come here often," he whispered as he sat next to me. "I see you leave through my window."

"Shouldn't you be sleeping and not stalking, pretty boy?" I replied, lying back down. I was too tired to put any heat into the words. "You'd think you were ten people with all the work you do."

"I have to get stronger." The words were fierce. "I have to become stronger, to protect my people and to…" He fell silent, refusing to say the last bit.

But I remembered his swordsmanship and took a guess. "You 'have' to take revenge on Jiol. He killed your father and your soldiers. His soldiers killed Frey. No one knows what happened to your mother or your sister. But you lost everything because he chose to betray."

"Exactly!" His eyes burned with hatred. "I have to fight and kill him. For the sake of everyone, I must-!"

"Then what?" I pushed myself up and looked right at him. "What happens when you kill him?" I waited, but he gave no answer. He simply stared, looking a little lost. "Doesn't he have family?"

"He has a daughter, Sheema." He softened slightly. "She's nice."

"Will she be so nice if you killed her dad?" There was no answer. "Grandfather always taught me that revenge always gets you more trouble than it's worth. Jiol might need to die." I grinned. "But come on, idiot. Wouldn't it be far more hilarious to have him live with the knowledge that he owes you?"

"Owes me?"

"He killed your dad. He's probably trembling even now at the idea of you coming back to kill him." I snickered. "Think of all that terror he feels, and then think of the look on his face if you spare his life!"

"...It is… a bit funny…" His own laugh was a little broken. "But it hurts."

"Yeah, well, death sucks." I poked his cheek, smiling as he made a face. "But you also have a promise to keep to Frey. Are you happy?"

"...No." He sighed and fell back to sprawl in the grass. "Do you know how to read the stars to navigate?"

"Nope!" I fell back too. "Do you?"

"Yeah, but I'm better at being able to read the weather." He babbled about how to do that. I didn't pay attention, just let him talk. I thought, more than anything, he just needed to 'be' for a while, and it seemed like I was the only one of the Alteans who let him.

It became habit to meet out on that hill once the stars came out. It also became a place to train. He'd practice some of the tricks Ogma taught him, while I pointed out things like how he was putting too much force into certain tricks or how he put too much weight on one foot and unbalanced himself. I'd practice my spells, while he made sure nothing caught on fire, and rubbed my back when the shrieks echoed through my head again.

"You've been working harder than normal," he observed one night. He crouched next to me, passing me some water to rinse out my mouth. I'd almost thrown up. "Any reason why?"

"Well, I need to keep up with you," I answered. I passed back the water and stood up, rolling my shoulders. "I seem to be the only one willing to call you an idiot. I can't keep doing that if you're way ahead of me."

"Thank you, Kris." He smiled softly. "It's a relief to hear that someone is keeping me in check."

"Nah, I just like calling people out." I turned away, feeling a little lighter than I had before. "You better move, though. This spell can get out of hand."

"Of course."

At some point while we were picking apples from the nearby groves, I realized all at once that it had been a whole year since Altea fell. I was a year older. We all were. But everything about it felt so distant, like the fall had happened to someone else. It was like I'd read one of Grandfather's books, and gotten very into the story, but ultimately, the protagonist wasn't me. I could step away.

Yet as I washed my hands in the river, I focused on my blue hair and remembered the child who had died because he happened to have the same color hair as Marth. I remembered the confusion and terror as Frey walked to his death with his head held high. I still didn't understand, and I felt lesser for not being able to.

Later, in my room, I started making some of my 'gifts' again, for the first time since we arrived. No matter how much I focused, I thought of the group of thieves I'd been with that day and wondered if they all really died. A year ago, I had shrugged off the possibility and told myself it wasn't my problem. Now, I was still convinced it wasn't my problem.

But damn if I didn't wonder if I could've done something anyway.

Caeda started coming by a lot more after that year anniversary. She and I ended up sparring a lot, mostly to practice our dodging skills. Neither of us were very strong, so we couldn't wear heavy armor to protect us like the knights.

We also just ended up talking about nothing and everything while we took breaks. She was a friendly girl, and it was hard to be serious when she was determined to get someone to smile.

"So, I was thinking about making Marth some food for his next lesson," she chattered, giggling as we toweled off. "Do you know what foods he likes?"

"He's interested in Talysi traditions, so just make him something unique to here," I answered, giving her a curious look. "You can cook?"

"Yes?" She laughed. "I might be a princess, but Talys is small. I'm always running about like a tomboy."

"What's wrong with that?" I shrugged. "Who gets to decide what a 'proper girl' is supposed to do anyway?"

"Precisely!" She clapped her hands, pleased that I was apparently on her side. "Oh, right, food. You want to help?"

"I am terrible at cooking."

"That's fine. I'll teach you!"

Even with Caeda's best efforts, by the end of the day, the best thing that could be said about the food I made was that it didn't taste entirely like steel. It was pretty lame, but at the same time, it was also a lot of fun.

Cain and Abel often sparred. Apparently, Frey would often serve as the mediator, but since he was dead, someone else had to fill in. Somehow, that ended up being me most of the time.

"And stop!" I yelled, as I noticed both of them were starting to flag. "That's enough for the day."

"We can keep going!" Cain protested. He was barely able to stand with how much he swayed, and Abel was little better. "Can't we, Abel?"

"You might be able to, but that doesn't mean you should. What would you do if we got ambushed?" Talys had been besieged with more pirate attacks lately. "Come on. It's time to treat your bruises."

"...Fine…" He sighed and sat down, stripping off his shirt so that I could get the balm on. I didn't worry about Abel; Norne had hung around after her own practice to help out. "Sorry."

"I'm used to you knights by this point." I frowned as I noticed a couple of particularly nasty bruises. "You might need to get some of these looked at by an actual healer, like what's-his-name in the nearby village."

"Wrys." Cain shook his head and accepted the towel I passed him. "I'm fine."

"Of course you are." I paused as I realized one particularly bad bruise was right over a nasty patch of scars. They were all that was left of the injuries he took from that day. "Are you okay?"

"I just said-"

"I wasn't talking about the bruises." I rested my hand on the scars for emphasis. "Do you cry anymore?"

"No, I ran out of tears months ago." He hesitated before whispering, "it all still hurts. But I have to keep going, for all of them."

"You're strong." I smiled. "I ran away when I lost everything."

"...No, you survived." He looked right at me. "You lived. That's better than most."

"It wasn't exactly a 'honorable' life."

"But that life saved our prince." His serious look softened with a smile. "It was no knight that saved him. It was you, a mage and a thief. I think you're amazing."

"...Are you trying to flatter or flirt?" I rolled my eyes and told myself I wasn't blushing. "Hold still. The bandage is slipping."

Gordin and Norne improved their skills dramatically over the course of a year. I could tell as I watched them practice, noticing they were not only more accurate, but also a lot faster. I noticed that Norne was easily the faster of the two, but Gordin's arrows went deeper. They seemed to have a playful rivalry with it, and both of them had an intense love of teasing the shit out of Draug whenever he ventured near.

"Kris!" Caeda ran up then, giggling and beaming. "Kris, guess what?" she gushed, barely stopping before she ran into me. "I asked Marth if he'd come to the festival with me and he agreed!"

"Which festival is this again?" I asked, turning to face her. Talys had a lot of festivals, mostly as an attempt to balance out all the various cultures of the islands. "It's not the harvest, right?"

"No, that's later. This is the Water Festival!" She clapped her hands. "I'll make you another seashell necklace!"

"I look forward to it." I paused as I remembered a rumor circulating through the village. "Isn't that the festival where the girls ask their crushes?"

"Ack, you know about that?!" Her face went bright red, and she only went redder as I burst into laughter. "Please tell me Marth doesn't?"

"Even if he did, he'd probably just assume you asked to have a friend during the more formal things." I kept on laughing as she looked a little put out by that. "What? Do you want me to clarify to him?"

"Don't you dare!" She was back to being embarrassed. "Please? I'll bake you cookies!"

"I'll take that bribe!" Still, I was crying from how hard I was laughing. "What do you even like about pretty boy anyway?"

"Well, he's nice and sweet and caring and…" She went off, clearly enthused, and I was stuck listening to all of Marth's supposed virtues for a mark, pointing out his flaws just to hear her squawk.

Somewhere around a year and a half after Altea fell, we heard the most startling thing. Nyna of Archanea, long thought trapped in her own palace or even dead, was suddenly in Aurelis. Even more surprisingly, she openly called for aid against Medeus, urging the continent to rise up from the ashes.

"We should go," Marth insisted. His fists were clenched at his side, and he looked tense enough to burst. "Do we not have a duty?"

"We do not have the strength," Jagan refused, shaking his head. He looked older than ever as the moonlight streamed through the window. They'd been arguing all day. "We have to wait."

"And while we wait, countless die!"

"More will die if you are reckless."

Marth didn't reply to that. He just stormed off, slamming the door shut behind him. Jagan sighed, shaking his head.

"He hurts," I whispered, looking at Jagan. He simply nodded. "He hurts a lot."

"He must toughen his spirit and heart if he's to survive this war," Jagan whispered, shaking his head. "Until he realizes this-"

"You'll be better off killing him." My own words were sharp, far sharper than I intended. "He's not Cornelius. He's kind, and he recognizes people as people, not numbers. He's a bleeding heart, and a naive fool. But that's the person Frey died for, not whatever you think he must be, and that's the person Marth needs to stay."

I stormed out too, though I didn't bother shutting the door behind me. I had no idea who was more confused by my defense for Marth: Jagan or me.

"There's word that the pirates have joined up with Dohlr," Ogma murmured. He and Marth had just finished their lessons, and Caeda and I had come to bring them some snacks. "Dolhr seems to have redoubled their efforts to take Aurelis now that they know Princess Nyna is there. It won't be long before the war reaches here."

"What will you do, Ogma?" Caeda asked. She remained perfectly calm, even as Marth and I exchanged alarmed looks at the thought of war. "I know Father will surrender. I don't like it, but we don't have an army." She gave Marth a smile, though, as if to say 'but Father will protect you always'. It strangely wasn't comforting. "I know you're tired of fighting."

"I am, but I am in your employ, Princess." Ogma smiled softly at her, and she beamed at him. "So, I suppose I'd just guard you from whatever hare-brained thing you come up with."

"I am not a rabbit!" She pouted before clapping her hands and pulled something from her pocket. "Oh, Marth, before I forget!" She pulled out a headband from her pocket, one that sparkled gold in the light. "Here, I got this for you." She shifted to put it on him, and I was startled by how much it looked like his diadem, the one Frey took as part of his disguise. "It's supposed to bring good luck."

"Th-thank you, Caeda," Marth mumbled, smiling softly. I saw the sadness in his eyes, and knew he thought of Frey too. "But what is it for? Did I miss a holiday?"

"Can I not simply give you a gift?" Caeda huffed, sulking. She softened as Marth scrambled to panic. "No, you didn't miss a holiday. I found it in the market, and thought it would look nice on you."

"Oh, I see." Marth's face turned a little red. "Then, let me say 'thank you' properly."

"As always, you're too formal."

Ogma shook his head and left then, heading down the path. I took one look at Marth and Caeda, noted how red their faces were getting, and promptly followed him as he left.

"You didn't need to leave too," Ogma noted when he saw I was following. "I've just got duties to tend to."

"Oh, I did need to. I'm giving the lovebirds some alone time," I deadpanned with a shrug. "There's only so much sweetness I can take before I start vomiting."

"Of course." He gave me a curious look. "Though, one can't help but wonder if there's jealousy involved."

"Who would I be jealous of?" Now I was the one confused. I scowled as he started laughing. "What?"

"Nothing. I just think your little trio is entertaining." He shrugged and continued on. "Ah, I'm getting old."

"Of course you are, old man." Still, I couldn't help but frown as he walked. "Ogma?"

"Hmm?"

"You sure you're tired of fighting?" I couldn't help but ask and, to his credit, he only seemed curious as he turned back and waited for me to continue. "I'm just wondering if you're actually tired of not being 'used'." I caught up with him, mostly so I could try to study his expression. But he was stoic. "You're a mercenary, a warrior, and while you do like guarding Caeda, there's a part of you that longs to fight in one glorious battle under the command of someone you knew would 'use' you well. Caeda can't do that; she adores you too much."

"What makes you think all of that?"

"My grandfather always said that you can see a person's true soul through how they wielded their weapon." I shrugged, ducking my head. I felt like an idiot. "Of course, he was an old man who rambled, so maybe he was full of shit. But when I watch you train, I see that, as well as old, old pain."

"You're a strange girl." He ruffled my hair as if I was a child. "Keep sharpening your insight. You'll need it."

It didn't escape me that he didn't react to my words. But since it was Ogma, I knew I'd never get an answer.

Marth wore that headband every day. He seemed more confident with it on, and more like a prince. I noticed the others look at it, and knew they were reminded of how, in Altea, he wore a diadem of a similar color. Whether Caeda had meant it or not, that headband reminded everyone of the ultimate goal. We were going to return home, and take it back.

"Everything is becoming more chaotic," Marth whispered. We were doing our nightly training exercises, but he'd stopped in the middle to look out to the horizon. "There are more pirate attacks by the day, and the rumors from the mainland just get darker."

"It honestly doesn't seem like it'll be long before the pirates get to be more than Ogma and the rest of the royal guard can handle," I agreed. I had overheard Ogma actually ask Jagan to consider moving some of us into the palace, just for extra guards. "War is coming here."

"Yes, it is and I don't want Talys to suffer as Altea has." He glared at the stars, with eyes that burned with determination. "I will not let this peaceful place become drowned in war." He looked to me. "What of you? What do you think?"

"I'm with you." I smiled wryly. "Rather, you're stuck with me."

"I can think of no one better to be at my side." He paused and then coughed awkwardly, determination fading for gentle awkwardness. "Wait, that came out wrong."

"It's fine. I know you didn't mean romantically." I grinned, knowing just the way to make him yelp. "After all, I've seen the longing looks you've been giving Caeda~"

"There have been no longing looks!" He went bright red. "Oh, gods, please tell me there aren't!"

I just laughed in reply, and laughed harder as he continued to protest. He was a silly prince, but damn it, at some point these past two years, he became 'my' silly prince.

Ugh, this was lame. But I couldn't quite regret it either.

Author's note: So, this chapter represents the 'two years' between the Shadow Dragon's prologue and Chapter 1 of the main game. So, for reference, Marth is 16, and Kris is 17. Ogma giving Marth sword lessons is based off of the manga, as is Caeda giving Marth hairband meant for good luck. Mostyn's name is never mentioned in game, and comes from supplementary materials. Sheema is a character from FE3/FE12. Caeda trying to teach Kris how to cook comes from her FE12 base conversations with the Avatar.

Next Chapter - Interlude, Castle