The Path of Least Resistance

Chapter One - Nohr: In the Dark

Or, falling into Fire Emblem Fates and waking up as Corrin when you sucked at the game and have no idea what's going on, and what do you mean 'people are going to die'? What do you mean 'I can't get out'? What do you mean I 'signed up for this' – oh, right. Lunatic Classic mode. Damn it. Self-Insert.

Now that the 'fight to leave the castle' part of the game was over, I needed to get ready to leave. Except I lived in like the northern boonies of this big-ass country, and the capital was a long way off. And since there were no planes or cars or proper asphalt roads around for another century or something at the very least, we had to travel over to the castle in Windmire for me to meet the fake Big Bad.

My fake brother dudes, I made my talent 'dragon' against the argument of my real brother dude. I know you have these things called 'wyverns' in this world. I know they can carry a person wearing armor, five huge-ass weapons, and depending on who gets to be in Pair-Up with them, another person and a horse, both wearing armor far heavier than the one the original rider wears. Let's travel by wyvern. That sounds fun.

Not that I said that out loud. I was trying to act like Corrin. Who knew what they'd do if I told them I wasn't actually their sister? I had the curse thing going for me, anyways – I didn't even need to make up an excuse about amnesia.

Where was I? Oh, right, heading to Windmire. Yeah, when you're travelling, you need to do this thing called 'packing'. Corrin, not too surprisingly, had very little material possessions that she held dearly. Like, nada.

From what I gathered, she spent most of her time practicing swordplay and reading books her siblings sent her. That, and writing journals in case the curse struck again, in the hopes that recording her thoughts and her memories might serve as a trigger to bring them back.

According to all of them, it never worked, but the real Corrin never gave up on her attempts, which meant I couldn't ditch it now without looking too suspicious. Damn it.

I couldn't take all the journals – there were like twenty, and it wasn't like one of those cute diaries that are just bigger than your hand, but more like fucking leather-bound albums, the industrial sized ones you get for a wedding or your child's first five years of life as a helpless living being at the mercy of their parents. Each one was as heavy and bulky as a high school math textbook.

No fucking way I'm taking all these along with me. And yet, everyone – the term 'everyone' being Gunter, Jakob, Flora, Felicia and my fake siblings – expected for me to take them, so I compromised by taking the latest one. If I was working with memory loss, might as well as be up to date on the latest news, because dragon gods forbid a cursed amnesiac forget sensitive issues.

No one argued. Probably figuring I could have my things sent for me, or that I could come back to take them another time.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha. Ha.

I was also given permission to have a retainer. I was super confused about that – wasn't everyone in the Northern Fortress my retainer?

Apparently not. They were, like me, tied to the castle. Except Gunter, who sort of worked as my guardian on behalf of King Garon, and also had the job of being a knight of Nohr and all. So I didn't have like a bajillion retainers, is what I was being told, which was a disappointment, but on the bright side, now that I had passed the test, I could start collecting them like trading cards.

So now I could finally get my first official retainer.

My immediate choice – hot, talented silver-haired butler almost obsessively devoted to me – would be obvious, but due to me still feeling super guilty about forgetting Flora's name, I considered taking her along instead.

And then, since that just robbed her of her choice which was bad in its own way, I decided to ask for volunteers. "Any volunteers?"

Jakob and Felicia immediately raised their hands. Flora followed suit, less enthusiastic.

"Um . . ." Do I go with Jakob, like the game, or do I try to make it up to Flora?

I didn't have to make a choice here. Jakob made it for me.

"Lady Corrin, if I may?"

"Yeah?" Feeling sorry for Flora was feeling sorry, but this was a super-hot face talking to me. I'd listen to him recite the terms of agreements to Groupon at me as long as I could keep looking at his face.

He bowed slightly, hand pressed over his chest, and I bit back a squeal. "I believe I would be most suitable to follow as your retainer," he said. "While Flora excels at her duties as a Maid, her fighting abilities are less on par with Felicia's, and as for Felicia, taking her along is a recipe for disaster."

Jakob said all those rude things with a smiling face, and normally when someone was being a jerk, I'd get angry. Would I do something? Maybe, maybe not, but I would definitely get angry at the jerk in question.

But damn, that face.

The final ingredient to all looks – a super-hot face.

Felicia made a face like she was going to cry, and Flora bit her lip. Their reactions snapped me out of the daze. "Jakob," I said warningly. I didn't like bullies, good-looking or not.

He bowed again. Damn, it was still hot. Lookism was definitely a thing. "My apologies, milady. I speak only on behalf of your best interests."

"Jakob is right, milady," Flora said with a soft smile. And shit, didn't that just trigger more guilt in me. "He would be the best choice."

After a pinch in the side and a muffled squeal of pain from her sister, Felicia nodded enthusiastically. "We'll be sure to hold down the fort!" she shouted, fists clenched.

I'm not coming back here, but thank you for your enthusiasm, soldier. "Thanks, guys," I said.

Once a few changes of clothes, the latest in 'Corrin's' writings before I got here, and food was packed, we were ready to go. Felicia and Flora did my hair for the last time, with Felicia sniffling as they did. Not that we did anything fancy. They just brushed my hair – a really pale, not white but also not quite blond color, more like beige – and braided it tightly before placing my headband on my head. I rubbed the metal pin on it – it was apparently one of Corrin's few possessions, and something precious to her, Felicia told me.

And then we were ready to go. 'We', being Gunter, Xander, Leo, Jakob, some soldiers and one of Xander's retainers – the gray-haired dancer, whose name I couldn't remember right now – and me. Oh, and Lilith.

I remembered Lilith. Hard not to remember a girl that turns into a dragon-fish carrying some golden ball who literally appears out of nowhere to die in your stead. Didn't understand it at the time and ranted about it to my brother, but still.

She was pretending to be a regular ol' stable girl, tagging along with us. I wondered about that – did stable girls usually tag along? – but it turns out that she was kind of like an assistant to Gunter. Jakob used to be that, but he graduated to Butler, and Gunter needed someone to help with the horses and stuff, so Lilith to the rescue!

Or something like that. It turns out she was something of a wonder with people who knew her, because she had this incredible talent with animals, and was a lot stronger than she looked.

Like, I am saying, lift two saddlebags with each hand strong. Jesus.

"I swear you're the strongest in the army, Lilith," I said as a way of greeting, once she was done strapping the bags onto the horses. Was it my imagination, or did it look like the horses were having a harder time with the weight than the young woman?

The girl that was actually a goldfish-like dragon in disguise smiled. We hadn't had a chance to speak since I 'beat' Xander in a 'fair fight'.

Ha. Ha. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha. Literally anyone who knew Xander and I would think it wasn't a fair fight. He was going so easy on me he might as well have been fighting me with a spoon to spoon-feed me the victory. The spoon could not have been bigger.

On his part, anyways. On my part it was still a struggle, but imagine if he was going all 'nah my baby sis needs to know the cruelties of life before even taking step in the outside world' and decided to be a hard-ass. Guess even Lunatic mode wasn't that mean.

"I hear you can finally leave the fortress. You must be very happy, Lady Corrin."

"I am!" I agreed. I would not die! In your face you fucking system! Yay, me!

. . . except that was what the system wanted. Boo, me.

She smiled at me, happy on my behalf, but also sad. Like – like a mom, watching her kid go off to first grade on their own for the first time. Less nervous and more resigned, but along that line of emotion for sure.

In a way, I understood why – Corrin was loved by everyone here, and they were probably expecting to see her lose her innocence in the war-torn, suffering-filled outside world.

It meant more for me, though, because I knew what was coming was a lot worse than what they were expecting to see.

Boo, me.

Struck by impulse, I hugged the dragon girl that had died in both Birthright and Conquest to save me. I still didn't understand why she had to die – couldn't she have just pulled me back into the castle, or tackled me down by headbutting my stomach, or something other than getting in the way of the attack? Was the gratuitous death really necessary?

Unnecessary and badly written in my opinion or not, she had still died for my character in-game, and that was a lot of affection.

I wasn't the person it was directed to, but I appreciated the sentiment, knowing it would be directed at me as long as I wore this body and bore this name. The least I could do was maintain it until everything was set right, and make sure Lilith didn't get the bad ending.

And, in worst case scenario, I had someone willing to dive in front of me to take a lethal hit. Best to keep in the good graces of people like that. They didn't come often.

"Thank you, Lilith," I said. "For everything."

"Oh!" Lilith squirmed in my arms. "Um, you're welcome? Thank you? Lady Corrin," she said when I didn't let go. She was very huggable. Sometimes there are people that just feel right to hug. You may have initiated the hug, but just holding them in your arms made everything in the world feel better even though the world was a crapsack thing to live in. "You know I'm going with you, right?"

"I know."

Lilith stopped struggling, shrugged, and leaned into the hug some more. Nice.

I didn't really remember how the tutorial went. What I remembered was limited to 'I get spoon-fed on how to fight (and still suck at it, getting everyone killed if not for Phoenix mode), game-mom is met and dies very soon after, and then I make a choice and everything is decided on my one choice'.

Ah, the burden of a protagonist.

I was fairly sure, though, that the tutorial didn't involve a several day trip via horses. Can you imagine what a boring game that would have been? Like, what? I didn't pay money to see people lazing around on the ground. I didn't pay at all, but my brother did, and honestly he treats my money like his most of the time so I say it counts.

It was less boring for me on the trip, because I got to ride a horse. Like most people who didn't have horses in their nonexistent big-as-fuck stables-included backyards, my horse riding experience was limited to summer camps with irritated ponies and patiently smiling university students who wanted nothing more than to ditch the whiny little shits they were babysitting and get wasted.

But like my experience with the art of swordplay, my current body had some wondrous memories, so I stopped thinking and just let it move on its own.

Body memory kept me from falling off the horse, though it didn't do much to stop my butt from hurting. Like, wow, I thought my secondhand car that I shared with my brother was a bad ride, but bumpy horse rides made you appreciate the miracle that was standardized infrastructure and smooth-as-fuck running rubber tires. Holy shit.

Pain aside, though, it was super fun. The air was a lot cleaner than what I was used to, which I assume came from the lack of exhaust. I could catch the smell of manure every now and then, but otherwise it was like I had never breathed air before this, and it was just so fresh.

And the stars. Holy shit I did not want to sleep because there were so many fucking stars in the sky.

I – as in real me, in the real world – lived in a suburban area in the middle of nowhere and I saw maybe a handful of stars on clear nights. Here it was go outside and see fucking pinpoints of blazing light in the dark night sky everywhere. Xander had to threaten to lock me up in a room without windows to make me go to sleep, and for once Jakob was all for the idea of not listening to my orders, because it meant I'd get some actual sleep.

Which, you know, I needed. Because dozing on a horse, unlike dozing in a car driven by someone else, means a higher likelihood of doing a dive head-first off the horse in the middle of a ride. On a horse. A very large animal. With a distance that my head was not made to fall from.

And speaking of Xander.

I tried to get him to spar with me the first time we came to a stop, because you know, experience points. He was reluctant at first because he thought I needed rest after a long ride, but I convinced him that a little sparring wouldn't hurt anyone.

So we sparred. And I lost because he did 'challenge' me.

And I got like zero experience points.

I mean, to say that would be rude because technically, it was 0.18 experience points, in the three sparring sessions we did. So generous.

Xander mistook my disappointed face to be from losing to him, and gave me another inspirational speech on how I couldn't win all my battles, but he approved very much of my drive to grow stronger.

Thanks, bro, but I just want to survive, and it looks like my being a Lunatic in all ways is detrimental to that wish.

I tried with Lilith and Gunter, since that didn't work out with Xander. Maybe it was a one-at-a-time deal. Since I beat him this time, I had to beat someone else.

Nope. All I learned was that Lilith, for all her super strength, really sucked at fighting with a weapon, and I got like zilch experience points from sparring.

Since training was going to be pretty inefficient, I also spent time with the magic dude of the family. Because this is a world filled with cool shit like magic flying out of books and weird bamboo-fan things that split apart and come back, and if you think I'm not going to try and find out how to use them you are fucking kidding yourself.

I approached him and gave him puppy dog eyes. Corrin was no great beauty – past me, please reconsider idea of flying through personalization and just going with the default and make a pretty avatar – but she had round eyes that just kind of screamed 'this is a person you can trust to be honest and sincere'.

On top of the eyes, she had an open face as well. Pretty enough, and one that gave the wholesome, 'girl next door' kind of feeling. The kind that protagonists in the whole clichés of high school setting movies had, to stand out in Hollywood-made model-esque cheerleaders and jocks.

"Big Sister?" he asked warily. Smart of him to beware the puppy dog eyes. They always meant the wearer wanted something.

"I've been thinking about how you said winning with pointy sticks aren't everything." I think that's what you said, anyways. At that time I was just basking in the feeling of having completed the quest, and not having to die just yet.

Leo didn't correct me. "Along those lines, yes," he said, which was just a roundabout 'yes'.

I put on my best 'please help me oh wise one' face, while keeping the puppy dog eyes. The one I pulled when I needed to get my brother to do something related to his areas of expertise for me, and I couldn't specifically remember anything he owed me. It always worked on my twin, so I hoped it worked on Leo. "Can you teach me about magic, then?"

He pressed his lips together thoughtfully, and then blew out a sigh.

"Magic is not just some simple hand-wave to bring forth cool effects," he warned. Damn, he knew me too well. "It's a complicated art and a field of study that one can dedicate their entire life to, yet never reach the end of. It's a science and a miracle in one, and a dangerous companion on the path of life."

Listen, Pretty Edgelord, I get it. It's dangerous. But everything here is also dangerous, and fuck me if I don't get to learn magic at the least while I have to suffer in this fictional crap-saccharine world of yours.

I would have preferred an owl-delivered letter welcoming me to Hogwarts as well, bro. In a time after Harry Potter and his cronies at that, because no war please. Me no like fighting. At all.

And of course fate would stick me in a war game. Damnit.

"I'll be careful," is what I said instead. "Besides, you're going to be teaching me, so I couldn't possibly get into doing things that are too stupid and dangerous."

"Who says I was going to teach you?"

I pouted. "Who else would I learn it from?"

"Hmph. You shouldn't assume."

Despite that, he looked pleased. Too easy.

"Sorry," I said. "I guess I should have realized you were busy . . . I'm sorry, but I didn't know who else to ask that would be as good at magic as you."

His lips twitched upwards. "True. You only need to ask, and I shall teach you anything you desire," he said generously. Score!

"However, if I am to teach you magic, I insist that you know the basics." He was firm on this. "I don't care if you think you know what I'm talking about and want to move along straight into actual magic-working, you will first listen and pay attention to the basics, and you will know them."

That was probably fair, since I knew nothing, so I nodded eagerly.

Leo took in a deep breath of air, and began to talk.

"Though it is possible to call upon magic without a medium, it is best to have a conduit to direct the flow in a more controlled, efficient way. The two types of conduits that we use in Nohr, at least on the battlefield, are the staves and the tomes."

"Like your special tome." I would have said 'book', but his use of the proper word made me change my choice in vocabulary. It might offend him, and I wanted to avoid offending him, at least until my crash course was done.

"Yes." Leo's hand flew to his side, where his ever-present purple covered tome sat, and tugged it loose so he could set it on his lap. "Brynhildr is very special."

Oh, is that how you pronounce your magic book's name? I thought it was pronounced 'brine-hild'. Like 'pickle water hild'.

Fucking English. Or whatever the fuck language with shit grammar rules that came from. Fuck it let's just blame English.

Leo glanced down at Brynhildr like a pet owner looking at his imperious, sassy and my-pace, own-tempo cat. Fondness mixed with exasperation.

What.

"Brynhildr cannot be wielded by anyone she doesn't choose," he said. Did you just refer to your book as a 'she'? He just called his book a 'she'.

Why were all my brothers, blood-related or fictional and adopted, like this with inanimate objects? At least Xander was normal –

Wait, no, he had a magical sword too. Odds were, he'd treat it all special too, like it was his girlfriend or son. Didn't his son have like the same name as his sword?

Damn it.

While I despaired, he continued on, eyes slightly glazed over in memory as he stroked the cover of the book like it was an actual fucking cat. I would have begun to reconsider my choice in magic teacher, had he not said something that caught my interest.

"If someone she doesn't choose tries to force a spell out of her, he'll have his magic backflow violently."

Meaning . . . ?

When he saw I didn't get it, Leo kindly made it simpler to understand for me. "He'll explode with his own magic."

Ah. Okay. No stealing Brynhildr for a test run then.

"More importantly, writings inside Brynhildr cannot be read by those she does not deem worthy." To demonstrate, he opened to a page in the middle and showed me . . . blank pages. It was parchment, colored in the light caramel-cream browned tone that screamed old paper, and completely empty of anything. Magic circles. Spells. Fucking doodles of stick-figure wizards with lightning bolts coming out of their stick-ier wands. None of what you might have expected in a magic book,

So he couldn't show me how the tomes worked with his special book. He did, however, have a Thunder tome, and dug it out of his saddlebag so that he could flip through its pages and show me.

"Magic is intricate and demanding," he said. "And requires a price from the caster – the magical energy that runs through you."

Like MP or PP – the amount of energy you had that limited how many times you could fire off a move. "Okay."

"In theory it is simple. Use the magic innate in you to affect your surroundings. Merge it with the natural energy of the world, and with the product temporarily bend the laws of reality to bring forth the results you desire."

It took me a little while to get that, and until I could say it in my own wording and metaphor Leo refused to move on.

"So it's like." I frowned. "I have my own energy, and that's like coffee beans, or coffee powder. And the natural energy in the world is like water. And I merge the two to create the magic, and . . . yeah. Use the coffee as a weapon." Because scalding coffee is a weapon. Shut up.

Leo smiled approvingly. "Not a bad metaphor," he said. "The magic produced by the combination of the world's energy and your own innate magic, however, must be presented in, shall we say, a proper cup to, er, fit the situation. For example, Elise would be most unhappy if she was to be served drinks in buckets at her tea party.

"That is where the magic circles and spells come into play. The spell is the controller, the promised key word that triggers the magic. The magic circles are an extension, made to create the directions of the magic, the contract between you and the warping of reality, and preparations to lead to your spell being the correct trigger word. More complex spells will require calculations, to make up for inconsistencies in magic throughout the world."

The inconsistencies in magic, Leo added, came because the natural energy actually came from nature, and there was less of it in areas with, predictably, less danger. Even in a fantasy world it was important to go green.

"But even the most brilliant of mages can't constantly adjust magic circles and calculations for all the factors around them while in the middle of a battlefield, where every disadvantage can mean death, of either the caster or the ally. The Witch Queens of legend were always said to have a tome if they went into battle, and even Nightwalker Sorcerers of present times wouldn't do it. That's just arrogance."

Whoever the fuck those guys were. I assumed that meant it was super hard, like saying something is so hard that even Superman couldn't break it.

"And you can't do it?" I asked the prettiest mage boy in the game, slightly disappointed. But if he couldn't do it, then no one could.

Well, maybe if Cursed Girl, Wind Boy and Capture Lady helped? They had some pretty fly magic as well. Paper-thin defenses, so they kept dying, but their magic was awesome and it was Phoenix mode – they popped right back up like Bobo dolls. Plus they were supposed to be really good at the magic gig.

Leo looked at me flatly. "No. I told you – it's about efficiency and convenience."

He went over the Thunder tome, flipping through thick pages. I used to think that the mages should be able to carry more stuff on them, since all they were carrying were books, but I hadn't noticed or realized that these tomes were the sizes of textbooks – the super heavy, thick ones that for some reason your teacher insists you carry around every day because the school is too poor to afford e-books for its students and there are perfectly good paper copies so why not cause lower back problems for youngsters with texts from twenty years ago– and the paper was like, three times thicker than the paper I was used to.

In other words, it would be a miracle for mages to carry around more than three, max, and fight properly. Dark Knights probably had it better than regular mages, thanks to their horse. No wonder Leo was one – Brynhildr was thicker than the Thunder tome, and its cover encrusted with large jewels. And sure, they were pretty, but they were also huge-ass rocks, when it came down to it, and rocks tended to be this thing we called 'heavy'.

"Most tomes written follow the standard format taught in the Academy," he said. "The spell itself, which is the incantation that's used as a trigger, and the analysis of the spell as an overview to the tome's workings. The magic circles, which dictate how your magic will flow out and manifest, like how what cookie cutters you choose cuts out different shaped dough. And finally, the calculations at the end, like endnotes, which decrease negative rebounds from the spell and increases its efficiency."

To put it in a way that was easier for me to remember, tomes were the devices, phone, laptop, whatever complicated thing that normal humans couldn't make on their own at home, and the mage a battery to power it up. Whatever I put in changed depending on the tome, and the output – the display, the sound, whatever – was powered by me but shaped by the tome's spell inside. And this way, the release of the battery was controlled and used efficiently, not released out into the air to be wasted. Got it.

"So, anyone could use magic if they had a tome and knew how to put magic into it?"

Leo looked like he remembered something annoying. The look of contempt wasn't directed at me, but rather at a memory of . . . someone. Or something.

He still looked super pretty while doing it, though, so that was alright. Although if he kept frowning he wasn't going to look pretty in the long term. Wrinkles, man. Proper skin care is an important thing.

"Technically, any idiot could do it, as long as they know how to inject magic into a tome," he said, like he tasted moldy gym socks in his mouth. "But it's important to – at the very least – know and understand the magic circles in the tome you use, because then you can better control the magic that you send into the tome and maximize output with less input. Mages tend to be more frail compared to physical fighters, so it's important that magic users know their limits and have good control. Otherwise, they'll wear out and grow exhausted in the middle of a battlefield."

Dang, so it wasn't just shooting fire and lightning out of the palms of my hands. It was some seriously complicated, engineering level shit going on here.

Leo read the look of disappointment in my eyes easily, and elaborated. "Just because tomes are the easiest methods of using magic offensively," he said, "doesn't mean they're the only way. It's just for efficiency's sake that we rely on tomes and staves. The reason the tomes are so intricate is because tomes are made to function in optimal rates in all scenarios. They have to be able to work in most circumstances with minimal input of magic, hence the need for all the formulas. If a mage is just casting a spell directly, without a tome, it might take longer than using a tome's trigger word, or be weaker and less controlled, but it won't take forever to do so."

There was really only one thing I could say to that. "Show me!"

He sighed, muttering something about how I was acting like Elise. I took that as a compliment and waited with shining eyes while he put the tome down and raised a hand.

"Logi."

It wasn't a word I recognized. I, as in present me from outside the game. Muscle memory apparently came with Google translate, because I understood it to mean 'fire'.

I didn't even get to think about how weird that was. With one simple word, a small ball of fire burst at the tip of his fingers. I gasped, everything about my innate Google translate forgotten.

"This is a basic fire spell," he said, and with every small movement the ball of fire reacted. "I'm controlling the amount of magic going into this spell, but if I was to increase or decrease the flow, then the size would respond appropriately."

To demonstrate, the ball of fire grew larger, and then smaller in size.

"A Fire tome can use – and often does make use of – the same spell to trigger the magic, but unlike what I just did here," he said. "It would be more controlled, and a lot stronger. In the case of those that are less experienced with magic like I am, it would also be a lot faster."

"Why would it be a lot faster?"

"The tome would calibrate the magic, make the calculations, control the approximate flow of energy and convert it into the appropriate spell. All the wielder of the tome would have to do is insert the magic, and aim," Leo said dryly. "So if you're not like me, with experience, plenty of magic and fine control, then the speed you cast the spell without a tome, and with, would have a greater difference."

"Ohh."

It made more sense now. Sort of.

Well, for someone who had never grown up in a world where magic was real, it made as much sense as it could.

"Does all magic use the same language?" I asked, while I could. "Why not just say 'fire' instead of . . . you know?"

I thought Nohr spoke English. Except it probably wouldn't be called 'English' here, I suppose. And what would the Hoshidans speak, then? English? Japanese? The equivalent of whatever in this world?

My head was starting to hurt.

Leo smiled and nearly distracted me from my raging inner confusion. "Astute of you to notice. The language technically doesn't matter," he said. "We could use the Common tongue, passed down to humans from dragons, or speak Nohrian like I did just now, or even Hoshidan, and still trigger magic."

Fucking hell, Nohr had their own language as well? Fuck. I hope the innate Google translate didn't go away, because if it did I was screwed. More screwed than I was now.

"What actually shapes the magic's energy into the form we desire is through the 'name' – by speaking out loud and branding the energy with the identity we want, we change it and give it the right shape."

You lost me, bro.

He saw my confusion and smiled softly again. "Think of magic like your Butler, Jakob," he said. "If you told him you wanted tea, he would bring you a pot, would he not?"

Yes he would. As well as some sweet tea food. Seven days with him and he was going to be the only thing I missed about this game world when I left. He ruined me from living alone and getting my own shit, I say. Ruined me!

"Magic answers the call, if the order is given right," Leo continued. "Even if you wrote it, or sent subtle hints, your Butler would still react, though it may be slower than you ordering him, directly and verbally. It is a force ubiquitous and beyond mere mortal limits, unrestrained by language barriers. Your will, in the end, is what matters."

Oh, so it's like looking something up on the Internet. It doesn't really matter what language you type it in, because Google does this thing where they find the relevant item and bring you an equivalent in your language as well.

"It depends on how 'fluent' and close you are with magic, how much magic you have, but some skilled Sorcerers can cast cur – spells on others without even needing to say anything."

I feel like the word he was about to say was 'curses'. I looked at him with wide eyes, but he didn't quite meet them, pretending to be engrossed in sweeping the cover of the Thunder tome with his fingers.

Was that what he could do? Because the Nohrian siblings were the ones with a super tragic, traumatic backstory where family meant shit when blood-related siblings were out for each other's blood, and the ones I knew now were the victors of the Hunger Games-esque fuckfest Garon let happen.

Knowing that it was probably a sensitive subject, I just leaned against his shoulder. "Thanks, Leo," I said, pretending to have not noticed the slip-up. "You're the best."

Above my head, he laughed softly. "Anytime," he said.

The next few days passed like this. In the day, we would travel by horseback, staying mostly silent. I learned why when I opened my mouth to talk and a bug flew in and crashed into the back of my throat. I nearly threw up, and came even closer to falling off the horse. Jakob nearly freaked out, too.

So no talking during the horse rides. But when we dismounted for breaks or for the night, I talked with Xander and Leo. More Leo than Xander, because we still had magic lessons and Xander was busy.

Contrary to what he had warned me about magic when I asked him, Leo told me that I wouldn't have to get too deep into the mechanics of magic to be able to use it in actual battle.

Not that I was complaining about not having to enter what would undoubtedly be a new world of study that would make no sense to me to start pulling out the magic guns, but why? Wouldn't it be better for me to fight if I actually knew magic better?

"Detailed education isn't necessary to wield a tome in battle," Leo said. "Actually, most of the battle mages in Nohr aren't great scholars. Giving detailed, expensive education to all foot soldiers is too costly when rounding up those with magical potential and teaching them enough to channel their innate magic and carry tomes is quicker and cheaper."

Even mages, he was saying, were being used as meat shields.

I must have made a face, because Leo smiled crookedly, like he had a bitter taste in his mouth. "Like I said," he said. "Tomes are made for maximum efficiency and result. As of present times, there are no magical tools more efficient in combat magics present."

Because wands were probably not a thing here. So did that mean there was no Hogwarts to get into? What a shame. And I waited for so long to get my acceptance letter, too, hoping it was lost because of some confusion on owl mail's part. No way owls were reliable enough to guarantee perfect delivery all the time.

"Higher ups, such as the leaders of mage squads, are of course more skilled and knowledgeable in magic studies, but most of the true artists and scholars spend less time on the battlefield as active combatants, and more in workshops writing new tomes, rewriting formulas, creating new spells or teaching new recruits."

And, well, it wasn't like I was going to be some prof in the field of magic, because that sounded kind of gross. I was really just interested in making sparks fly.

So I accepted his instructions because he was the expert here, and listened some more. He explained magic, and told little stories on the side of what happened when careless mistakes were made.

"Never use a tome that's been too damaged," he would say, and then talk about the time a recruit, fresh in the army, accidentally spilled soup in his tome while going over the spells, and then decided to use it in battle anyways because tomes were expensive, even the standardized ones. Luckily for the soldier, it hadn't ended in him exploding. Instead, the attack – a standard Thunder tome – had been accompanied with the scent of onions, and made the caster tear up every time he used the tome.

It was super fun learning about magic, but my lesson got interrupted when Jakob came to check on me and found both of us still up and talking late into the night.

I learned two things from this experience – that Leo had placed a very effective silence spell around so we wouldn't disturb anyone with our talking without me noticing, and that Jakob could act bitchy to even a prince if he thought my health was on the line.

Dude, I have once pulled like three consecutive all-nighters surviving on nothing but gummy worms and Red Bulls. If I could have actually grown wings from chugging all those energy drinks, I would have been an angel with three full pairs. A little chat at night is nothing.

I said as much in less . . . real me-like words, but Jakob was adamant, and Leo agreed.

"Good night, Big Sister," he said, stifling a yawn.

Yawns were contagious. Okay, so maybe he had a point. I hid my own behind a hand and waved. "Night, Leo."

Jakob's discovery put an end to our lessons, and for the next two nights I stuck to reading Corrin's journals for a little before sleeping. It wasn't as fun as magic lessons – in fact, it was downright depressing sometimes.

Me, wanting to avoid all the hurt in the written words, skipped to the parts that were happier – when she wrote about her siblings visiting. There was still some longing for the day when she would finally be permitted to leave the fortress, which made me feel a little guilty for being in her body in that critical time, but it looked like she really loved her siblings. She wrote about her sleepovers with Camilla and Elise, where they made pillow forts and played games throughout the night. About listening to Xander's sword practice sessions in the early mornings, because he didn't slack off of even when he came to visit. About going over her studies with Leo, who was more advanced than she was in every field, but patiently went over them with her anyways.

About promising them how, one birthday dinner, when she finally got the chance to go out of the fortress, they would go for a picnic at a meadow nearby and watch the stars in the sky.

Another cool thing about Corrin – her birthday was the same as mine. March 15th, the day when Caesar was killed. Probably because that was the only personalized part of the avatar creation, I guessed.

And then, we arrived at the edges of the capital of Nohr.

It was like a scene out of a fantasy game. Weary, dust-covered travelers, standing on a small grassy hill just outside the city, gazing at the view before they were to actually enter it. Mind you, Windmire was no New York or Paris or London on a postcard, but it was . . .

Well, it didn't look like the shithole I came to expect to see from a place in Nohr, that was for sure. It was dark, but the days were almost always cloudy in Nohr from what I'd seen. The city had circles of walls in rings, with spokes separating districts, something that made me stare. The circular patterns gave the otherwise what-could-be-called drab city an interesting point.

Camilla and Elise came out to greet us there, on the back of Camilla's wyvern. And dude, the game made me underestimate just how big the wyverns were, because Camilla's wyvern looked like a fucking dragon. I expected something around the size of a horse, maybe a little bigger, but this? This was the size of a plane.

Not a jet plane or a passenger plane. One of the small ones that could fit one person – okay, there were two people, let's go with double – max. but big enough, and unlike those small, cute planes painted in bright pretty colors, this dragon was dark and had an aura of purple magic thingy around it, with glowing red eyes.

Which, not to discriminate or stereotype, usually pointed to something evil and scary.

"Good girl, Marzia," Camilla crooned as she stepped off her wyvern, and unwrapped the scarf around her head. Tresses of light purple spilled out, and instead of suffering from weirdly matted hair she looked like she belonged on the cover of Fantasy Vogue, filming a piece on dragon riders.

Elise hopped off after her, and she didn't even bother unwrapping her hair from the scarf. Instead, she charged straight at me, screeching "Big Sister!"

"Little Sister!" I called back, opening my arms and bracing for impact. The charge and impact didn't hurt me, and I even managed to lift her up and hold her tight to my chest for a while before putting her back down on the ground.

Dear lord she was adorable. Was it even possible for someone to be this cute in real life? Obviously not, that was why she was fictional, but even so this was cute to the point of heart-attack inducing.

If being cute was a crime, Elise should have been executed several times over.

"Oh, Corrin, darling!"

Elise's hug might not have hurt but Camilla's bear-hug certainly did. It crushed me straight into her boobs, and as awesome as that experience was, I couldn't breathe.

Oh, I can die happy now –

Wait no, I can't.

"Big Sister," Leo said, and though his voice sounded muffled to my ears I could hear the amusement in it. "I think she's choking."

Xander laughed quietly, while Camilla smothered me one last time before releasing me back into the world, and allowing me to stare at her chest from a good point of view.

Instead of the armor that let half her boobs look at the world, she was wearing a leather outfit. It wasn't as skin tight as the Catwoman suit, but it was tight enough to earn a 'nice' in my books.

But was that okay to fight in? Instead of revealing half her breasts, it only revealed one-fifths, sure, but that was still a lot of unprotected area in a pretty vital region.

But hey, who was the better fighter here, her, or me? If you think I'm about to argue with someone who can ride a plane-sized flying lizard with Glowing Red Eyes of EVIL, you're nuts.

Camilla tossed her thick mane of hair back, and the wavy locks cascaded like a shampoo commercial to put all shampoo commercials to shame.

"I missed you so much," she crooned. "Goodness, you feel like you lost weight. Has Xander and Leo been starving you on the way here?"

"We should have a tea party!" Elise said. "Oh, Corrin, I'm so glad you're here! I can show you the gardens I've been working on! We have pretty flowers, and Leo's got his section for his plants and they're pretty too-"

Leo sighed in exasperation. "They're for magic, and actually serve a purpose, Elise, you know magical herbs are a necessity for-"

"As soon as you get rested up, I'm taking you around Windmire. I need to make sure you see all sorts of men-"

Xander looked horrified. "Camilla, what-"

"Please, Xander, would you prefer she gets swept off her feet by the first supposed gentleman she meets?"

"Well, no, but . . ."

Camilla had already won, and Xander clearly knew it from the way he trailed off.

Elise didn't care about what the older siblings were talking about, however, and she continued to talk over both of them, and Leo's attempt to correct her. "They're really pretty flowers, and I have a section where I planted flowers that reminded me of you!"

"Elise, when do you intend to behave like the adult you technically are?" Leo said. "You're twelve already, not seven."

Camilla tutted, able to afford dropping into a different conversation now that she had logically (?) defeated Xander. "I for one think her cheer is a good complement to this gloomy kingdom, Leo."

It might have just looked like a naturally excited family with strong bonds talking, but all throughout their talk – what I assumed was Saturday Night Live, Nohrian style – they were subtly checking on me, gauging my reactions.

I knew what these people were doing – they were trying to be cheerful as they dropped information for me. They were certainly making the effort to make it seem natural, but I could see it.

What would the real Corrin say to her 'siblings' at the effort they were making?

Well, from what I remembered about playing the game, she seemed to be a fairly polite speaker, who didn't swear like a sailor or me a-la-natural, so that might be a good place to start.

"You've all been so patient and kind since I lost my memory . . . ."

Camilla and Xander stiffened, and Elise flinched. Only Leo maintained his poker face, but his fists clenched.

So I smiled as brightly as I could. Corrin was no great beauty, but she had an honest, cheerful face, and a smile that was the infectious type. I practiced getting used to my face in the mirror so I wouldn't do something stupid, and I knew how to smile widely without looking deranged now.

It was a good thing I knew, because when I put on a crazy smile my pale skin and red eyes meant I looked like a vampire ready to suck some blood. Luckily it didn't take much effort because the whole thing was just adorable.

"Thank you all. I'm so grateful to have you all."

Xander, hesitantly, smiled back. "We are grateful to have you as well."

He reached out to ruffle my hair. I might have protested, but his smile was a little sad.

Dude, what the heck. Why are you sad still.

Wondering if I did something wrong, I snuck a glance at the others to check. Camilla looked touched and ready to shed some tears, Elise was beaming at me, and Leo looked like he approved.

Okay, just emotions then. Alright.

"Let's enter the castle, then," Xander said, the moment past us now. "Castle Krackenburg is magnificent."

My real smile began to slip, however, and I had to struggle to keep a mimicry plastered on my face as I looked at the castle waiting for us. Unlike the Disney castles – or, you know, any castle that comes to mind when someone thinks 'castle' – Castle Krackenburg was in a hole. As in, no magnificent figure, no grand silhouette to be observed by passersby. Someone decided to dig a big-ass hole and make a castle in it, because that makes complete sense, right?

It felt like I was going to be literally descending into hell.

Joy.