Epilogue
Lucina sighed as the blade was presented to her. She felt terrible looking at the heirloom: it was a symbol of a past that didn't need to exist. A past she had the terrible, sinking sensation she had contributed to. Thinking of the days not long ago when she had pestered her father to accompany him on their "diplomatic mission" gone awry, there was something awful, almost reviling about the blade and shield that she nonetheless accepted as was her duty. It was a necessity to return Ylisse to its feet after the devastation that had visited its people, and so, body still aching from the scars of battle, Lucina stepped up to overtake her father's duties to watch over her beloved country and allow her mother due time to grieve away from the public view. Inigo was present at the ceremony, along with all of the other children of former Shepherds, bidding farewell to the man who had united them all in one way or another. Lucina herself whispered no words to her father when she approached the open casket that afternoon. She merely placed a hand on his shoulder, eclipsing his Brand and staring into his shut eyes with her own.
Lucina: Tears in Exaltation
Lucina did a very respectable job returning Ylisse to proper shape after the passing of her father. She was never quite the same woman after the day Chrom left the world, but her calm, resilient poise eased tensions quickly and gave Ylisseans confidence in their new ruler. She upheld her father's goals of striving for piece and liberty of life for all Ylisseans, but forever dreaded the day she might have to once more pick up the sword. She married late into her life and gradually walked away from the throne with some relief. It is said she settled down with a roguish but kindly man from a valley that hides in the clouds...
Inigo watched his sister walk up to the casket and perform her gesture. He frowned, cursing the fact that he had lost his chance to protect his father only because he had been too slow and weak. He was supposed to be a prince, and yet he had failed to protect his father, the very exalt from whom he was descended, and now life would never be the same. Lucina would be frowning a lot more. Even his cousin seemed to lack his general penchant for posturing and proclaiming to adopt a silent air that made him feel sick. He walked up to his father, too, but could muster no words. He clutched his father's hand and felt a tear pool in his eyes, shook his head, and walked away. This was a day he would never forget.
Inigo: Hopeless Romantic
In the years following the attempted coup, Inigo regained his bright, flirty attitude and made shows of dancing with the various ladies who attended his sister's royal balls. In his heart, he wondered if he could ever measure up to the massive shoes Chrom left for him to fill, and so he was relieved when Lucina aimed to take the job for her whole life. Secure in his freedom to leave the past behind, Inigo continued to serve his sister dutifully in her court, but had the tendency to wander away from the capital for long periods of time, seemingly having disappeared. Stories would return eventually about a handsome fighter who had the air of royalty stopping by to rescue those in peril and who seemed to wander in and out of space and time. Spurious claims suggested he traveled with a similarly mysterious redheaded thief.
Olivia foreswore her nature when she broke down and cried in front of all the mourners at Chrom's funeral. She felt not hot rush of shame following that outburst: she could hardly bear to see what had become of her husband. She braced herself against her children for the rest of the afternoon, hardly able to stand on most occasions. When her tears dried, she sorely missed her husband still, and she knew she was not prepared to stand before her people and address them as their queen...
Olivia: Wilting Violet
Shortly after Chrom's death, Olivia abdicated the throne to Lucina. She never seemed to recover from the loss of her husband, but she remained in the castle all her life, tending to her children and earning the love of all the castle's staff with her sweet, maternal behavior. Her own funeral was a quiet occasion, observed only by close family, and it featured a much remarked-upon dance performance by her son, who blushed the whole way through but performed flawlessly.
Along the room's back wall, a myriad of soldiers were all waiting for their turn to say their farewells to their captain and, in some cases, exalted ruler. Each of them approached the casket with a burdened heart, but to what degree they released those burdens would remain forever with them.
The Legacy Shepherds:
Gregor (died in Chapter 21), Cordelia, and Severa: An Imperfect Home
Cordelia was deeply anguished by her husband's passing. For days, if not weeks, she remained mute, as if by a curse. She could not bring herself to part with the aging mercenary, and when she could remain home no longer, she returned to training Ylisse's Pegasus Knights with a renewed, silent determination that pressed each soldier hard. Consequently, the Pegaus Knights became the fittest institution in all Ylisse, and their tremendous physical prowess, put on display in many a public festival or parade, drew the attention and wonder of observers the world over. Severa was distant from her mother, too, but their relationship gradually warmed and the ill-tempered girl eventually succeeded her mother in serving Ylissean royalty.
Stahl, Sully, and Kjelle: Knights of the Round
Stahl and Sully continued to serve as the left and right arms of the Ylissean military long into their old age. Each gradually rubbed off on the other, Stahl becoming a bit firmer in his handling of serious matters and Sully learning to relax. Kjelle followed her parents' example and continued to become a respectable general in her own right. Due to their ability to survive so many battles, it was rumored that the family wore invincible suits of armor. After the passing of each member, their armor was highly sought after by collectors and treasure hunters.
Gaius, Maribelle (died in Chapter 26), and Brady: Sweet Escape
Gaius thanked his lucky stars for escaping another conflict alive and, resting on Maribelle's money, retired from thievery, in part out of penance, but also because years of consuming sweets habitually took a toll on his physique. Brady visited when he could and tolerated his father with a banal dignity that made his mother proud. Records indicate he visited the Ylissean Pegasus Knights in the midst of their training frequently, but that he otherwise kept to himself.
Frederick (died in Chapter 26), Sumia (died in Chapter 26), and Cynthia: Clipped Wings
Cynthia's positive outlook took a hit after the tragic death of both her parents. Her life seemed empty in that moment, but she was determined to go on living, and so she found a cause in the form of the Ylissean Pegasus Knights. There, she trained alongside Severa under Cordelia and perfected her technique while disguising her sorrows. She was visited by Owain, whose company and love of theatrics slowly brought the smile back to her face. Frederick and Sumia were given heroes' honors at their burial, and became the pillar to which knights and pegasus knights of Ylisse now aspire.
Ricken (died in Chapter 21), Nowi, and Nah: Dragon Soul
Nowi lamented the loss of Ricken all her life, which, somewhat more happily, lasted a long time. There were few pureblood manaketes left in existence, but as centuries passed, Nowi found more and more playmates among those with small quantities of dragon blood in their veins who grew to revere her kind as great sages of old. She remembered her comrades fondly and imparted what lessons she could to the younglings. She also played a lot of hide-and-go-seek. Nah went on a pilgrimage to visit Tiki, who had returned to her rest. Nah devoted herself as an apostle of the Divine Dragon's Voice and was revered by surrounding Chon'sin dynasties. She took a husband and continued to faithfully serve her kind for centuries.
Kellam (died in Chapter 26), Miriel (died in Chapter 21), and Laurent: Peace and Quiet
Laurent grieved for both of his parents in his own way, continuing his mother's research and keeping his father's predilection for remaining unseen. Strangely, Laurent's biggest contribution to history seems to have been a concerted effort to increase the records of his father's existence. He never explained exactly why, but it is believed that he succeeded, for Kellam's service to Ylisse is well-documented and admired by aspiring knights. Otherwise, Laurent seems to have contented himself by traveling the world and inciting breakthroughs in the natural sciences.
Virion, Cherche, and Gerome: Coming up Roses
Much to his relief, Virion passed the rest of his tenure as Duke of Rosanne in peace. He was not particularly beloved by his people for a myriad of reasons, but he retained Cherche's (albeit bewildered) affection, and that satisfied him. The pair worked to restore their dukedom with considerable effort and, with time, settled into a more comfortable life. Gerome succeeded them and garnered adoration from Rosanniens both for his firm nature (in stark contrast to his father) and for his handsomeness, which was a topic of discussion in the homes of many Rosannien women. Records indicate he undertook a very fruitful political alliance with Ylisse.
Henry, Tharja, and Noire: Dark, Darker, Yet Darker
Henry and Tharja returned to their respective thrones in relative contentment, although Tharja was devastated for several weeks, possibly even months, after learning of Robin's passing. Still, she understood her obligation as queen, and the pair continued to reform Plegia from the barbaric ways of its past. Eventually, Ylisseans and Plegians became more amicable neighbors, and the culture and economy of each nation flourished. Noire didn't have much talent for governance, nor a desire to be in the limelight. When her parents passed, she abdicated the throne to a local governor who had shown great promise. He extended the benevolence of his predecessors, and Noire gradually, happily shrunk into obscurity.
Lon'qu, Panne (died in Chapter 18), and Yarne: Cold, Hard, and Undying
Lon'qu returned to pick up the pieces of Regna Ferox that remained, forever ashamed to have failed in succeeding Basilio. He resigned himself to silence, mostly, and did what he could to rebuild his country. It took time, but a unified Ferox was eventually re-established shortly before his rule expired. When Yarne took up the throne, he did so more happily than he did any battlefield, and he was admired for his strength in spite of his delicate nature. In fact, the once-militant Feroxi, scarred by the consequences of so much conflict, rallied behind their mild-mannered taguel master as a new hope for peace in their time. The taguel race lived on, and taguel became recognized as fierce warriors and are highly respected in Feroxi culture.
Donnel, Lissa, and Owain: Of Princesses and Paupers
Lissa joyfully watched her niece take the reins, thankful that she would never be forced to try and fill the shoes of her brother and sister. When it became clear that Olivia's assistance and maintenance was more than enough, Lissa and Donnel left the castle and returned to Donnel's village, where they lived the rest of their lives out quietly but in good company. Owain went on to be a successful writer and performer, occasionally putting on shows with accompaniment from Brady. Children grew up emulating the eccentric mannerisms of the legendary Owain Dark as the man himself seemed to fade out of history.
Libra: Fair-hearted Atonement
Not much is known about Libra's whereabouts after the day he let Morgan out of his door. Most accounts say he survived the attack, but disagree as to where he went thereafter. Some claim he returned to the port town to restore its broken spirit and ran an orphanage for underprivileged youth, some claim he silently rejoined the clergy and made no significant marks on history, and some say he became disappointed with the warlike ways of his world and left to travel on his own. Of those last reports, some say Libra chose to quit the sinful world altogether, though this is unlikely, given his religious devotion. In any case, the priest was never heard from again.
"Setting sail soon?" Steven inquired, walking up beside his brother. Water lapped at the dock as well as the ship itself as the assassin seemed to watch the waves rise and fall in the dance of orange and purple that made up the horizon.
"You guessed it," he nodded, lazily tilting his head back and rubbing his neck, "the Brotherhood is gonna need me, now more than ever, probably."
"You think others will try to take advantage of the coup?"
"Seems only logical, doesn't it?"
"Quite. I don't suppose you plan on visiting any time soon."
"No offense, Steve," the assassin sighed, "but I work better on my own. I always have. It's not that I don't like you guys, I just don't have the same patience you do for all the jabbering between each other and... Oh... Damn it, you know."
"I do," the silver-haired man smiled, "All the same, don't be a stranger, okay? My door is always open, and I'm sure that goes for everyone else, too."
Leo looked out at the water for a moment more, lowering his head to watch the small waves break and lap against the stone walls beneath his feet. He blocked the sun from his eyes to watch it set before turning back to his brother, "You know, I was thinking about what happened to those guys... uh, those versions of us from the future, you know, particularly the other me..."
"Something he said?" the orator perceived.
"I guess. I just..." he sighed, "Did you ever think about what might happen if we weren't so close? I mean, we're not all peas in a pod now, but..."
"If mother and father weren't there to keep us together," Steven nodded, "Yes, I imagine things could be much worse. Families don't always stay together. In some way, I imagine that must be the heart of all strife: the breaking of bonds between brothers."
"I didn't ask you to get all philosophical on me, Steve," his younger brother rolled his eyes, "I was just asking you a hypothetical question."
Steven folded his arms, "Fine. Hypothetically, yes."
"Right," he lowered his eyes to the ground again.
"Did something else bring this up?"
"Huh?"
"It wasn't just seeing that other you, was it?"
Leo's eyes narrowed on his brother, becoming razor-sharp, "This has been a weird time for everyone. I was just thinking about old stuff. About how we could be dumb sometimes. About how I could be dumb."
"You were thinking about Morgan again, right?" the orator guessed. Leo's blank expression seemed to confirm it. "She still doesn't know. She doesn't remember. I never told anybody, Leo, it stayed between us, like I promised."
"I..." he hesitated, "I can't stop. I can't help but think, if you hadn't been there to intervene, would I really have...?"
"I don't think so," his brother shook his head, "You weren't that angry. But, in another life... Well, anything is possible assuming an infinite number of different worlds. Things can always play out differently. All we can do is rely on what happens in this world."
"What's that?" Leo pointed to a slight discoloration he noticed on his brother's exposed forearm.
Steven tucked it away, "Nothing, a little scratch from when I was a kid. I'm surprised you never noticed it before."
Leo and Steven turned their heads as the calls to board the ship were shouted out to the port. The assassin gathered himself and began to walk toward the gangplank, "Well, that'll be my cue. Take care of yourself, Steve."
"Sure. And let's not let anything stupid ever get between us," his brother added, "I know you prefer fighting to talking, but if we're going to fight, let's just have it out and get it over with, all right?"
Leo cocked an eyebrow, "Whatever you say, Steve." He climbed aboard the ship along with a small throng of other passengers. Steven disappeared into the crowd, rubbing the scar on his arm. The remnant of the one and only time his parents had used physical punishment on their children. When they discovered that Steven was trying to hurt his baby sister. He accepted the responsibility for the deed as a shocked, tearful Leo fled out of his parents' view. The orator buttoned up his suit and wrapped his cloak more closely around himself. It was getting to be cold out, and he had a long walk ahead of him. It was time to say goodbye.
Leo: Peacekeeping Killer
Leo continued his involvement with the White Talon brotherhood of assassins for several decades, as his name shows up in records documenting their affairs for years at a time. Apparently, he made a few visits to his family, but remained mostly with the Brotherhood. There are no records to indicate that he ever married or had children, and given the nature or the White Talon's affairs, most of the records of his existence are mere mentions of the name, and nothing specific. These records suggest he was promoted and served his cause dutifully, and one other significant detail: a drafted will was included in the documents, requesting that, in the event of his death, the Brotherhood pay all of his unreceived wages to his mother.
Steven: The Silver Son
Steven worked as an orator and political consultant for the rest of his life and was indispensable in the careers of many a politician over the course of the decades he lived. He visited his father's grave frequently and made stops to greet and entertain his mother, too. He eventually married his beloved, Sophie, and they had a son together whom Steven drilled in scholarly ways as well as physical activity. Steven turned out to be a very nurturing father, if a bit of a taskmaster, and his son would go on to have a promising political career of his own. In the twilight of his life, Steven became a much-beloved author of nonfiction. His most popular account was a description of the life and times of his father, the legendary Grandmaster Robin.
Morgan folded her arms and smiled at her sister, "Leaving so soon?"
Sylvia smiled back, "Places to be, people to please. Sorry, Morgie, I don't mean to leave you alone."
"It's fine," she assured her, "I get it. I guess it was kinda silly for me to get used to you guys being around. It can't be like that anymore, can it?"
"Don't make me cry, Morgie," her sister complained, "It's not fair; you've got those big puppy dog eyes."
"Sorry," the redhead giggled, "I'm just... I guess, in a way, I'm kinda sad it's over. Is that wrong?"
"Insofar as you're gonna miss your siblings, I don't think so," the performer grinned, "If you're talking about the killing, I might need to disagree."
"Oh, shut up," Morgan chuckled. Her sister did the same and loaded a few more items into her satchel before closing it up and slinging it along her shoulder where it stood out against her periwinkle cloak.
"For what it's worth, I'll miss you, too," Sylvia conceded, "You guys are always in my thoughts when I'm performing. I see you right there in the audience."
"Yeah, well, don't let me hold you up," the redhead waved her off, "Go be a big star, just make sure to tell me and mom about it when you get back."
"Speaking of," she paused, "about dad..."
"I can take care of it," the thief nodded, "don't worry about it. Now, get going, or you'll miss your ride."
Sylvia nodded, smiling, "All right, but before I go..." She pulled a goldenrod handkerchief out of her pocket and swirled her hand around the fabric like she was stirring something, "A little gift for my favorite sister."
"If this explodes and sets my hair on fire again, no magic will be able to fix what I do to you," Morgan quipped.
Sylvia shrugged, "That happened, like, twice. Okay, three times. Maybe four. Point is, abracawozow! Look there!"
Morgan did as she was told and watched the handkerchief be lifted from her sister's palm, and from underneath it, a dove flew out, flapping its wings loudly. Morgan watched it circle over her head for a few seconds, clutching something in its claws. Suddenly, it dropped the object for Morgan to catch and flew off. Morgan grabbed it: it was a card featuring a rough sketch of her sister (presumably self-drawn) that showed her sticking her tongue out in a taunting fashion. "Good for free admittance to any show!" it read, then, in smaller script, "Drop by sometime and let me dazzle you, darling!" Morgan stuffed the card into her pocket, then turned and realized her sister had vanished.
Sylvia: Showstopping Spellcaster
Sylvia's shows were enjoyed by audiences the world over for many years. Due to the secretive nature of her performances, little is known about her activity outside of performing. In particular, the story of her personal life is hotly debated: some say she remained a solo act all her life, others say she had a few flings every few years, but that they never worked out because the monotony bored her, still others suggested she did eventually settle down and retire from her magic act, but where and with whom are different questions altogether. Notably, spectators claimed that once in a blue moon, she was joined onstage by a man of similar height and facial features who sported a salmon-colored cloak.
Morgan pulled her cloak in tighter around herself as large flakes of snow stuck to her hair and her clothes. She looked back at her tracks in the mounds of icy white that led up to the house and sighed. It had been a long walk, and waiting at the door was a minor irritation, granted, but her patience was running rather thin. She saw an orange glow warmly filling the cracks of the door and let out a sigh and a shiver as she knocked on the gnarled wooden frame of the door. She waited a few seconds and heard nothing, so she knocked again, and in moments, the door swung open. On the other side of it was a woman, a woman with a reddish ponytail that was gradually fading and giving way to a silvery color, wrinkles under her eyes, near the corners of her mouth, along her cheeks, and in the middle of her forehead, possibly as a result of raising her eyebrows very frequently. Her eyes were half-closed, as if drifting to sleep, but they widened a bit when they filled with recognition, "Oh, Morgan! Come in."
The smaller redhead did so, and felt quite relieved to step into the glow of the house, alight by means of a fire that rumbled and crackled along the far wall. She kicked off her boots and slipped out of her purplish-blue cloak, hanging it on an unused chair and revealing the tan cotton sweater underneath. She was about to sit down on the sofa that was across from the fireplace when her mother caught her attention, seizing her hand, "Come on, I was making soup." Morgan obliged her and followed her to the table, whereupon she was quickly seated and treated to the wonderful aroma of chicken broth. A bowl was placed in front of her and she slurped it up hungrily, earning an amused smile from her mother. "You still eat like a pig, kiddo," Anna chided her, "didn't mom ever teach you any manners?"
"Too hungry," Morgan beamed, setting down the bowl with a relaxed exhalation that became visible due to the cold of the air. The smaller redhead continued to sit at the table and wait for her mother to finish before realizing that she should probably say something to break the silence, "Er, so, how's business?"
Anna frowned, "Uh... the store's been a little quiet, recently."
"Sorry."
"No, it's fine. How are you making out?"
"I've been... sorta busy, too."
"Of course."
The pair continued to sit in silence, Anna occasionally glancing at her daughter and Morgan listening to her mother eat her soup in the growing discomfort of the silence. Eventually, Morgan put her hand on her mother's shoulder, "You don't have to be all silent and composed with me, mom. I know you're taking this hard. It's all right, that's what I'm here for."
"Don't be silly," the merchant blinked, "Your mom's just fine."
Morgan could see her eyes were glassy, "Okay, if you say so. Just remember, I'm here even if you start feeling not-so-fine, got it."
Anna nodded wordlessly, "It's um..." The merchant cleared her throat, clearly holding back, "When you're ready, it's in the back room." After a moment, she added, "I'm sorry to make you do this, I just can't find it within me to..."
"It's okay, mom," Morgan squeezed her mother's hand, "I'll get started. Then I can tell you a story about a Valmese knight I met. And we can braid each other's hair like we used to."
"Okay, sweetie," Anna sniffed, "That sounds... nice."
Morgan stood and walked toward the back room.
Anna: One in a Million
Obviously, Anna was probably the individual most affected by her husband's death. Her shop closed for weeks, going on months, a gesture tantamount to standing on a cliff for the Anna family. Fortunately, she had the love of her many sisters and her children to carry her through that difficult time. The shop reopened and the merchant resumed her work as if nothing had happened, although she stopped attempting to change her appearance with the trademarked magic and remedies of her family, preferring to let her age show through. When she was confronted about this behavior in family meetings, she is reported to have said that the only one she wanted to impress with her looks was no longer around, and that she did not want the attention of other men, because only one mattered to her. She worked out deals with all of her children, including licensing Steven, Sylvia, and even Leo's services for the right price. Though she would never state it openly, she became one of the most successful Annas in all of history. When she passed, she was buried in her backyard, donating all of her money to charitable institutions throughout the realm. Legend has it that, thanks to her contribution, there was at least one day where no one alive went hungry.
Morgan placed her hand on the corner of the casket, feeling a certain imbalance to the air that was not brought on by the cold. She tried to place the feeling when, suddenly, she lifted her head and found a mirror image staring back at her.
Not a mirror image, perhaps, but a very similar vision. Same long, ruby-red hair, same cute, big, brown eyes, same soft, small fingers, but a greater sharpness to the cheeks and eyes. "You know," the figure said, "he was my father, too."
"Yes, you told me that already," Morgan nodded, "but Steven said in your future he died not long after you were born."
"True," the other Morgan agreed, "but that was a different man. I mean this one, here." She knocked on the casket, "This man was also my father."
"How?" Morgan inquired, "He didn't know you existed, how can you say that?"
The future Morgan shook her head, "You don't know the full story. You probably never will. Your father took care of me when I had amnesia. I woke up in the middle of nowhere, unsure of anything, save for the image of my father's face: his face. When I was scared and surrounded by monsters, he saved me, and welcomed me into his home."
"How did you end up with amnesia?" the current Morgan wondered.
"The boys never told you? I guess I can see why. Well, you know my mother was killed giving birth to me. Leo resented me for that. Deeply, deeply resented me. When we made our plan to escape from Nihilus's hellish world and save our past, we traveled to Mount Prism to plead with whatever gods would listen, hoping we could emulate the actions of Lucina."
"Lucina? What did she—"
"Another story for another time. To make a long story short, a rift was opened, allowing us the chance to jump back in time. Steven and Sylvia jumped through, and I was next, but, suddenly, I heard a snap and everything went black. Everyone ended up at different places in the world, but our parents found me first, confused, but happy to see my father. By the grace of the gods, he took me in and kept me safe."
"Leo... Leo did that to you?"
"Right. I can understand why, though I'm not sure if he meant to kill me and had second thoughts or... what he was thinking, but years after the fact, he came clean and told me he regrets it, so I've chosen to forgive him."
"I see. So, what about after the war?"
The future Morgan smiled, "I spent many years in their continued company, your parents'—our parents'—but when baby Steven was born, I knew the winds of change were blowing. I knew I needed to go back to being on my own. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't deprive these people of their current child for a version that shouldn't have existed."
"I see. Well, I'm older now," Morgan supposed, "and mom is pretty lonely nowadays. Why don't you stay with us again? She's just in the other room, I'm sure she'd be thrilled—"
The future Morgan shook her head, "I appreciate the though, but no, I've moved on from that. I'm only here out of my last duty to the man I called father. After this, I'll simply disappear."
"But it doesn't have to be that way!" the current Morgan protested.
The older Morgan smiled, "I'm sorry, but there's no use fighting it; my mind is made up. It's funny... traveling through time... I've learned a lot about the way things must be. The entropy of life is staggering... one decision can take a million lives, or save just as many... It's dizzying to think about."
"So, why did you come, then?" the younger Morgan demanded, "Why risk being here at all, besides just to bury him?"
"Because I want to encourage you to make the right choice, Morgan," the future image of herself told her, "Because my future and yours... don't have to be the same."
The pair carried the casket out the back door and began the process of digging up the frozen earth as sharp, cold winds struck their faces.
Those winds carried past their faces, reddened by the chill, and flowed into the air, strung along by an invisible hand that scattered and recycled them gently, sending them into unseen lands and placing them beside unknown faces. And those winds would, like all other things, follow their course until they met their end, rolling alongside plains, mountains, children, houses, and through the ocean's gray waves, guided this way and that.
Future Children: Star-crossed Saviors
The incarnations of Leo, Sylvia, Morgan, and Steven who had emerged from a ruined future vanished without a trace after the incident. Their lives thereafter are unknown, as they seemed to make no contact with the outside world with their objective complete. One can hope, at least, that their lives were lived fully and happily in the absence of death and conflict. The body of the fallen Anna who had joined them was moved, so, presumably, she was buried. This was the last indication of the children's presence.
Morgan: La Vie en Rouge
Morgan spuriously continued her work as a thief for several years following her father's death, but did so mostly to finance her mother, for whose health and well-being she was concerned. When he mother seemed to gradually recover, the little redheaded girl abandoned her vocation in favor of traveling with Inigo. The two complemented each other well, and Morgan was highly successful in dragging Inigo out of his funk following his father's death. Morgan would never admit it, but her husband did the same for her in her grieving over her own father. The Ylissean royal court was overcome with joy when, several years later it was visited by a ruby-redheaded boy and a girl whose hair gleamed sapphire blue.
Robin: Grandmaster to All
In spite of his innumerable contributions to Ylissean history, very little information remains about the enigmatic tactician who guided the whole realm to safety at least twice. This seems to be because the tactician's estate made an effort to remove him from the public consciousness, fearing retribution from the many enemies his actions garnered. Ylissean royalty was complicit with this request, and now the name "Grandmaster Robin" has been reduced to a historical footnote, an entity that appeared from nowhere and guided Ylisse to safety, only to vanish back into the ether from whence he had come shortly after. Those who know of the Grandmaster and his exploits, however, do not despair of this fact, suspecting he would have wanted it that way. One thing remains known without question: he loved his family and peace. The extent of his success remains to be seen.
THE END
[AN]: Thanks for reading, everyone, especially if you've been here since the beginning! I'll try to be brief: this is the longest story I've ever written for this site, and it may be the longest I ever write. For better or for worse, I know I've grown from it, and it means a lot to me to finally be able to call it finished, especially because it's something of a love letter to Awakening, the game that got me into Fire Emblem, and therefore fanfic writing, which will forever hold a special place in my heart. For as much as longtime fans of the series may dislike Awakening (and I don't blame them), words cannot express my love for that game. At this point, I've published more than half a million words to FFN, which makes me rather proud. I don't know if I'll ever be writing something of this length again, but you can count on me popping back in for smaller projects every now and again. Once again, thank you to everyone who read so little as one chapter, or who was gracious enough to read this whole behemoth. Even greater thanks to everyone who left a review, and still more thanks to those who followed and favorited. And lastly, a big, hearty, soulful thanks to Cormag Ravenstaff, without whom I never would have written as much as I have. He's a great guy and a fantastic writer who inspires me to do better and push myself more and more, even though I'll never quite get on his level. And so, with heavy eyelids and aching fingers, I bid you all adieu.