The Summoner was weaker this time around, Vajra noted. In the time between their previous clash she had trained and grown, but she wasn't so absorbed in her own strength to think that was the only reason for the gap in their prowess. The last time she'd encounter the green haired man he ran roughshod over her, commanding shadow, ash and stone in tandem with his weapons. As he was now, he was struggling to manipulate shadow and ash–no, struggling wasn't the correct phrasing. He was using both rather well, but it was as if his mastery and understanding of both had diminished. He hadn't gotten physically weaker or slower—the fact that he could still keep up with her even as she'd grown faster made that abundantly clear—but he'd grown less skilled manipulating the power blazing around him.
The Summoner hadn't arrived that long ago, appearing as the former doll treated with the Ylissean princess. The girl wanted to make a Faustian bargain, a term her mother used rarely, and it wasn't Vajra's place to stop her.
"You'll be forfeiting your life if you go through with that," she offered unhelpfully, watching the princess deliberate internally on the best course of action. If she chose to take the place of her companion her life was forfeit and she would be sacrificed to the Fell God. If she chose to stand her ground and fight, she would be cut down before she could blink by the former doll.
"Do you promise that Maribelle will be safe if I take her place?" It was an innocent question, one that Vajra couldn't rightfully answer. Maribelle wasn't able to walk, her tendons had been cut then healed over, so if she did trade places with the princess she would perish soon afterwards when the chamber collapsed in upon itself once the princess was spirited away. There was also the matter of the Fire Emblem. Maribelle's life hinged on the artifact being passed over, but having Lissa as a larger bargaining chip may have been worth briefly aiding the hamstrung woman. The idea left a horrid taste in Vajra's mouth, but she'd been told to defer to what she thought best.
"Only if you make no attempts at fleeing or breaking away with her once she is freed," the taller blonde finally said. "If you do, both of your lives are forfeit rather than yours alone."
"I will do no such thing." The words sounded odd from her, like she was forcing herself to talk in a manner she was unaccustomed to. Vajra could see the brave front the princess was putting on, flickering like flames as her voice quavered just slightly. She was afraid, but wasn't nearly as spineless as she'd been told most all Ylisseans were. Neither was Maribelle for that matter, but the former doll was content to believe the noble was foul tempered to be foul tempered.
"Very well then, I can promise that she will be returned alive and well." She didn't well like the idea of breaking her oath, even if removing Maribelle's head from her shoulders would have been satisfying.
With that Vajra would have allowed Lissa into the chamber, disarming the traps within it to allow the princess safe passage. Would have, if not for the polished marble doors at the end of the hallway smashing inwards as a familiar presence reached her. Her eyes flashed, glaring at the princess only to find Lissa panicked and confused as violet and blue flames spread from beyond the door.
Ah, so she hadn't been stalling for time.
"Get away from her," Kiran, the Summoner, breathed as he stomped past the stone threshold. His hair wasn't as dark as she remembered it being and his presence wasn't as sharp or unnervingly placid. Neither of his arms were disfigured into monstrous mismatched claws either, though she had since been informed those weren't part of his natural state of being. The hair on her neck raised as he leveled an even gaze at her, letting Vajra know he wasn't one to be underestimated—a lesson she wasn't keen on learning twice.
"I do not believe I will," she replied challengingly. "The princess and I have come to an accord and I would see it through. Your interference is both unwanted and unnecessary."
"I will not allow your machinations to take one dear to me, doll," he glared in turn, the flames around him growing brighter. He was very much a different person from a year ago.
"Then make me move, Summoner." She offered a taunting smile before glancing at Lissa. "You haven't much time, princess. I would hurry before I change my mind."
The princess wasted no time sprinting into the overly decadent chamber just as the summoner threw himself at her, spear at the ready. The fight started in his favor, the burning aura around him made it difficult for Vajra to get close. More importantly, however, was the fact that she could feel her paling immediately fade as he neared. The same thing had happened before, but to a lesser extent: he'd needed to actually hit her for the defensive magic to break rather than just draw near. That was going to make her life far more difficult if she couldn't make distance.
In that respect it was good that he didn't appear capable of applying the same pressure he'd been able to back in the destroyed duchy. He certainly wasn't giving her much room to breathe as is, swapping between precise thrusts and pokes and swift, wide reaching sweeps between using some form of unarmed technique that he hadn't used before. Avoiding his quick, piercing strikes wasn't the easiest thing, but the lack of projectile blades and ash made a rougher start to the fight manageable. Then came her opening.
It wasn't a large, glaring thing—if anything Vajra would have missed the change had she not been trained to defeat the Summoner. It was a thing that Loki brought up in passing that turned the battle in her favor. The Summoner could not fight at his best when he had to protect people. It seemed like an insignificant thing, to the point that even her lady nearly dismissed it, and Loki hadn't pushed the matter. To Vajra, in her own narrow sighted focus, that was more than enough. It took a moment for it to become apparent, the slight shift in her opponent's focus once the princess was out sight. She capitalized on the opening as quickly as she could.
Perhaps it was a cheap move, channeling lightning into a hidden blade until it shot off faster than an arrow, but it was certainly effective. Nicola was hardly able to react, shifting to the side in time to avoid the blade piercing his heart though not quite fast enough to avoid the blade in its entirety with how close he was. The pained look that flashed across his face as he clutched at his wounded arm was enough of a victory in Vajra's book, but now she needed to properly take him on. The slight sharpening of his gaze told her he wouldn't fall for such a trick a second time. She responded with a taunting look of her own as she made distance. When he didn't elect to close it she realized something was off.
The former doll unleashed a pulse of energy through the area, something her mother had taught her to do after a particularly brutal training exercise in fighting without sight, her awareness reaching everything the pulse touched. She nearly turned when she sensed another presence beside the princess, stopping herself with the knowledge that doing so would get her killed. Her eyes widened when another being registered from the wave, the person accelerating towards her side. She skipped back, alarm crossing her face as a burning duplicate of the Summoner appeared where she'd been just a moment before in the midst of a powerful lunge. She hadn't gotten far enough away, she realized once the duplicate pivoted, blowing her off her feet as searing chains coiled around her. Before she could pull herself from them, she found herself being yanked towards another instance of the Summoner—this one waiting with its lance drawn back.
Electing to not be skewered headfirst, Vajra shifted into lightning form, slipping through the chains in time to avoid a piercing beam of heat and light that would have torn through her. Even manifestations of the Summoner's power, now clearly flame, ash and heat, could pierce through her paling as evidenced by the chains burning her. An unfortunate thing to experience, but a good thing to learn.
"Don't look away for too long," Nicola warned, slashing at her with his lance. She wove to the side, only to have to backpedal out of the path of a second swipe. She became lightning once more when he vanished mid step, careening backwards as his lance hit her head on. Thankfully her lightning form was more resilient than her proper form, else she would have died from the blow. Instead she was forcibly returned to flesh and blood as she found herself skidding back. She could taste the faint tinge of blood as she glared at Nicola. He glared back before swiping his spear to the side and disappearing among the flames for a second time. The spears of flame that replaced him would have made Flamberge jealous had they been around to see them. Vajra ignored that thought as she vaulted over the first then shifted into lighting to avoid the second and third. The fourth would have struck her had she not split her form in two, the second advantage of being able to become lightning. She reformed along the corridor wall, avoiding three more spears that bored through the stone with little resistance as she ran along it. The eight she kicked away and the ninth she blocked, briefing summoning the mass of lightweight metal her mother had painstaking constructed for her. Blades shifted and locked into place as she swung the unwieldy weapon out, reassured when she heard it collide with another object. The grunt behind the impact told her she'd blocked the Summoner rather than one of his duplicates.
The pair spun away from one another, striking at one another as they did. Streaks of lightning brushed past Nicola as he spun with the grace of a dancer, even as injured as his arm appeared to be. The near black blood that burned the stone as it dripped told her it was no small wound. Vajra had to roll under a burning greatsword meant to bisect her then leap away as another duplicate of the Summoner trying to impale her from above as it crashed down on her previous position, showering her with shards of broken and burning marble. Dust obscured her vision and Vajra knew that was a death sentence without having to look for the already gone Summoner. The dust and stone would interfere with a second pulse and waiting for the dust to settle would get her killed because Nicola was already calculating the best way to catch her unawares. Rather than panic as her heart thundered in her chest or curse, she took a deep, calming breath. She simply needed to act before he could.
"Sorry, princess," she whispered, conjuring forth numerous orbs of lightning over Lissa's head. The smoke was his advantage, but Lissa was her own. At any other point she could have attacked the Ylissean princess, but it was best to save that card for a more critical junction. After all, with how close Lissa was to the gilded prison holding her friend she could trap at least one of the duo, forcing the Summoner to abandon his offense lest both die as the room revealed its bladed secrets. Sure enough, rather than see a metallic spear strike at her, a spear of flame came instead—one far easier to avoid as she let the duplicate disperse the dust for her. She swept its legs from beneath it and brought the massive weapon she held down on it as a flame wreathed shape flew from the trapped chamber. As the flames separated from them and coalesced into a more solid form resembling the Summoner, she saw that the figure it had rescued was none other than the princess. The brief panic and confusion she wore turned to horror as she heard metal grind and twist, the chamber behind her erupting into a sea of blades that collapsed upon the cage in the center from all sides.
The duplicate of Nicola, ready to strike at her, faltered and began to lose its shape as it fell to a knee. It reached out a hand, drawing in the flames and heat from the damage Nicola had wrought to the area to regain its footing and stability. Unlike the others that appeared for a moment or mid strike, this one adopted a stance that made her blood freeze and boil at once.
It was lazy and deceptively indefensible as the duplicate widened its stance just slightly and hefted the burning spear it held onto its shoulder. When the spear smoldered and shifted into a sword nearly as large as it, Vajra couldn't help but let out an ugly snarl.
"You..." she hissed, red lightning crackling off her body as the duplicate nodded its head. "I'LL DESTROY YOU!"
The duplicate tilted its head and gestured at her with its free hand. It was taunting her. She would kill it. It was mocking her. She would kill it. It dared insult her? She would kill it.
Those were the only thoughts that crossed her mind as she rushed the burning duplicate. Once it was gone she could take the princess to her Lady and report the Summoner's unfortunate and untimely demise.
Vajra roared as she swept her weapon towards the duplicate. A graceless squawk left her as she found the wind crushed from her lungs. In one moment the duplicate had blocked her strike, drawing its sword from its place along its shoulder. In the next it had upended her with a single slash then sent her flying with a touch of its palm to her ribs. She tried to regain her footing, but a magenta blur smashed into her. Stars assailed her vision before explosive heat met her jaw and sent her into a wall. She became lightning and jolted to the side in time to see the crater she'd left become a mess of burning blades and thorns larger than her. Rather than breathe a sigh of relief, she bolted back as the duplicate turned towards her. No, it was more accurate to call it the aspect of the Summoner that had slain her siblings. The way it carried itself matched and the lack of breathing room it was giving her was all too familiar.
The corridor erupted into burning chains that were half violet and blue flame, half molten marble. They coiled and rose, winding into the form of a great twisting lance before the aspect gestured at her. The mass of chains flew towards her less than a heartbeat later.
If Vajra hadn't been lightning, she couldn't have escaped the mass as it tore through what remained of the corridor and into the white palace. That it erupted into a mass of blades that homed in on her was only fitting. She had never weaved so quickly between attacks, the thundering of her heart and rush of blood she heard reminding her of the panic she felt when the same aspect had cornered her before. It was relentless and far more deadly that how the Summoner had presented himself before, but it had the same weakness.
The instant the rain of fire ended Vajra fired a pitch black bolt of lightning towards Lissa. Halfway towards the blonde princess the blot condensed, streaking towards her like a ray of dark light. The aspect threw itself in front of the attack as it wrapped the girl in flames. She appeared off to its side as the ray pierced through the aspect. For the second time, it fell to its knees, only this time it couldn't seem to gather any strength from the flames it had unleashed. No sooner did it collapse did it disperse into a sea of vibrant blue and violet embers.
"Vajra, your task remains incomplete. Have you run into a setback?" The abrupt, inflectionless voice that was Laplace interrupted her thoughts as her chest heaved. If the burning aspect hadn't protected the princess, hadn't taken the attack that would have redirected itself, she would be dead. Unfortunately, the Summoner was a hero through and through and that cost him dearly.
"The Fire Emblem has not been received, but a better bargaining chip has been. I'll be transporting her in a moment."
"Our Lady wishes to see through your eyes if that is acceptable."
"It is."
Vajra had very little to hide, so she didn't mind sharing her vision. She panted and gasped for breath, exhaustion from the frenetic battle catching up to her as the princess sank to her knees and cried. She hadn't said a word since the burning aspect had saved her, frozen in abject horror. Vajra would have felt bad if both people who had died hadn't contributed to the death of the majority of her family. At least she didn't wail, nor did she struggle when the former doll picked her up and slung her over her shoulder.
"You've done well." Simple words from her lady, but they meant much to her. "I see that the trap was sprung, but that Lissa is alive and well. That is certainly a boon, though I would have preferred to have not lost Maribelle if it was at all possible."
That was an odd thing about the goddess. On one hand she hated Ylisstol and its Shepherds with a burning passion, but on the other she appeared to adore them all individually and wanted nothing to harm them aside from her and even that was debatable—rather than harm Maribelle when she'd been dropped into her hands, her lady instead treater her as an honored guest and friend even as she picked apart the noblewoman's memories and thoughts. It was contradictory, but Vajra had been warned to never mention that before her. She hadn't so far, but the temptation to do so had grown ever so slightly.
"It was that or lose her and Maribelle to the Summoner."
"My dear brother was the one who sprang that trap?"
There was a brief pause and an unusual amount of concern in the goddess' voice. She had expected steel or even cold discontent.
"He did. He sacrificed himself to save Lissa and attempted to save Maribelle from what I could te–"
"Vajra, you are to flee the area at once."
There was no room for argument in the goddess' voice. Instead there was... fear? Panic?
"Is something the—" The telepathic link was severed.
"Vajra, some form of ailment is afflicting our lady. You are to escape the Palace of Pales and meet with Validar before his death and escape with him and the princess. That is what our lady conveyed."
Something was affecting the goddess and she needed to both find Validar and escape with him. What was going o–
Vajra felt the weight on her shoulders vanish as a black blur passed her. When she glanced to her side she saw that the princess was gone. Looking ahead she saw a kneeling figure holding the girl, gently setting her down next to another blonde figure covered in glowing blue blood.
"If you wouldn't mind, may I borrow my coat for a moment," the kneeling figure asked, offering the princess a hand. Vajra felt a wave of cold dread wash over her as she inched to form a lightning bolt. She stopped when the air around her begin to burn and her dread only grew as the princess nodded, the tanned coat she wore turning to cinders as it flowed to the black clad figure. "You have my thanks. I'll have two assistants see you and Maribelle to safety. I've a bit of business to take care of it seems."
Vajra felt her dread grow further still as the once tan coat turned silver, deep blue symbols and patterns flowing over it as the dark haired figure turned. It was the Summoner and yet it wasn't. The Summoner she knew didn't have silver hair with black and green streaks or black eyes with burning blue irises and molten slit pupils. He also didn't have metallic white horns growing from his head or a thin black tail that tapped the ground slowly. His arms hadn't been uniformly transformed unlike now, looking like reptilian claws made of silvery metal and black scales with blue channels of light flowing cross them. Most notably, however, was his presence. It felt uncannily similar to her goddess' own: cold and foreign, like being able to even breath in his presence was because he allowed it rather than any effort she made.
She watched as a clawed hand reached into the pocket of the coat and withdrew an ornate rectangular device. Like the coat it was gold, but the color leached from it until it too was white and silver. The Summoner looked over the object before absently pointing it past the Princess and her blood covered friend. Without a word he activated some sort of mechanism and the world broke, the air cracking and splitting with a thunderous roar before shattering to reveal a prismatic gateway leading into Ylisstol. As the gateway spread, its edges burning as they swept past the Summoner and Vajra alike, two bright wisps of light appeared. The Summoner absently gestured towards Lissa and Maribelle and the wisps expanded, becoming swirling blue orbs of light nearly as large as a person.
"Go along with them," he said to the princess. "I won't be far behind you." As he spoke, one of the orbs pushed itself against Maribelle, positioning her so that she could ride atop it while the other floated in front of the princess. His voice was gentle and kind as he finally glanced at Vajra. There was no hatred or viciousness she could see in his eyes, only boredom. Once the princess and her friend were gone, whisked away by the orbs, he spoke once more. "I will give you a single chance. Flee and do not return or be devoured whole."
Before she had a chance to reply, a burning azure pillar tingled with silver, crimson emerald and gold erupted from his form, piercing the sky as unbearable weight crushed down upon her. The Summoner's eyes seemed to only glow brighter in turn.
"Well? What is your decision?"
Lissa wasn't sure what had just happened. In one moment she'd been but a hair away from saving Maribelle and in the next she had been pulled far from her friend as the chamber she'd been held in closed in upon itself. Then there had been the Nicola made of flames who had protected her until it—he—was struck through the heart by an attack aimed at her. At that point she had no strength. Two people dear to her had just perished and the one who had killed them seemed hardly affected beyond being winded. When they tried to take her with them she offered no resistance—what good would resisting have done when the woman before her was capable of killing others stronger than her? Then she was no longer in their arms, instead finding herself in the arms of Nicola who looked and felt different.
Beyond the silvery hair and inhuman features he had, his presence had changed. It was serene and cool and the brief glimpse she had of his soul when they touched hands had nearly been blinding. She saw no person or anything resembling one, but a pale star falling from the sky surrounded by ash and flame and viscous looking darkness akin to a shell. The ashes and azure flames around it spread like a multitude of wings as the star shifted and halted mid flight. Then it ruptured, searing the world white as a shadowy being vaguely shaped like a person emerged from it. Vaguely, as in they held the basic shape of a person and nothing else.
Humans did not have long coiling tails or arms ending in claws as large as the falchion. They did not have four toed feet more akin to the claws of a cat or three eyes, one centered on their forehead. Most certainly, humans were not made of black flames housing a number of foreign symbols that only made sense to Lissa due to the dreams she'd had from holding onto Nicola's coat.
Once Nicola put the coat back on, the figure within him changed, gaining a four part mantle of ethereal blue flames more akin to wings as its claws shrank down to something more in line with the size of its body. Odd horn growths closer to ears grew from it as patterns of gold light spread across its arms and legs. An unfamiliar symbol that vaguely resembled the goddess' brand on Chrom and Emmeryn appeared on its chest as pairs of crimson, sapphire, emerald, steel and gold colored gems formed along different parts of its form. The crimson gems set themselves within the being's shoulders while the sapphire gems adorned the backs of its hands. The emerald gems appeared along its hips while the steel colored gems appeared in the center of its clawed feet. The gold gems appeared in separate spots, one taking the place of the third eye along the being's forehead while the other set itself in the center of the symbol on its chest as the being glanced at her. The moment it did, she found herself back in the real world looking at the changed Nicola and the blood covered Maribelle at his side.
Her dear friend was as silent as the grave, but the fact that her chest still rose and fell told the princess that she still breathed. That didn't change the fact that she had several rather deep cuts across her side bleeding dark red blood tinged with iridescent blue. That snapped Lissa from her hazy thoughts. She had work to do. Before she could start, however, Nicola bid her to leave as he conjured two large spheres of light. One pushed itself into her laconic friend until she was more or less mounted on it while the other waited for the princess to mount it of her own volition. Once she did, something that felt odd because the sphere itself didn't quite feel solid so much as like a thin shell barely holding back heat, she and Maribelle were whisked away.
The spheres were fast and Lissa had a hard time staying on hers as it raced through her home. Numerous white clad figures tried to chase after her and Maribelle as they passed through the same corridor that Lokke had directed her through, but the sphere proved too swift for them to do much of anything other than lob spells at her. The spellfire ended once the duo rounded several corners and nearly crashed into a large group of mostly familiar faces.
"Lissa, you're safe," a tired looking Emmeryn breathed. The air about her was odd, almost sickly, but the princess couldn't focus on the odd condition of her sister.
"More assassins are behind us, there's little time for formalities," Lissa blurted out.
"Of course there are," a red haired man sighed. "You'd think we're deserving of some sort of break after dealing with that golden haired monster."
"Chin up, Mad King," Khan Basillio laughed. "There can't be many more of these people, especially with the losses they've taken and the work that the so-called 'Guardian' is putting in."
The Guardian was here? Thank goodness, if there was anyone who could assist them it would be her.
"We'll have to hold firm then," Emmeryn nodded.
"You aren't doing anything, blondie," Gangrel snarked. "Not sure what you did, but you look like death standing up. Fall back and let your soldiers handle things in your stead."
"I'm not so tired as to–" Before her sister could continue, the Mad King flicked her forehead. Emmeryn hissed and nearly buckled—she would have if Frederick and Phila didn't rush to her side.
"See? I'm not as strong as your knight or the Khan over here. Heck, I'm probably weaker than you and the freakish strength you and your damned bloodline have, but I can nearly knock you over with that. Get some rest, hypocrite. You'll keel over well before it's convenient for me otherwise."
"Milady, though I disagree with his methods or choice of words, King Gangrel is correct: you are exhausted and you risk making yourself ill or worse if you keep pushing yourself," Phila huffed. "Frederickson, can you escort the Exalt, Princess Lissa and Lady Maribelle to the back? Myself, Khan Basilio and King Gangrel's mages should be enough for this final—"
The world was dyed blue as the Wing Commander spoke, a great pillar of light erupting from beyond the corridor as multicolored embers and shadows danced.
"What the hell was that," Gangrel asked once the pillar faded.
"I do not know," Phila frowned.
"It was Nicola," Lissa answered. The color was near identical to the fiery mantle surrounding the being in his inner world, but the feeling it gave off completely matched the calm and fierce impression he'd given off.
"That was Nicola?" Incredulity flashed across Phila's face but it vanished as a number of assassins, far fewer than the amount that had been chasing Lissa moments before, rounded the corner. "Frederick, if you would."
"Right," he nodded, picking up Maribelle carefully as the princess helped her sister to her feet. "Follow me."
She was running away again. She hated that, putting people in danger because she could do very little other than heal them from afar or burn herself out trying to fight back. She would change that.
His opponent chose to flee. He expected it and allowed it. He could have cut her down, but he had promised she would live if she fled and he was one to keep his word in most cases. He didn't dwell on it, instead accelerating the burning gate eating away at the white palace until there was no trace of it. The palace itself hadn't been destroyed by his use of Breidablik, rather the connection between it and Ylisstol had been severed by the art of Closing. It wasn't something he used often—only using it once to evacuate those who he had summoned when the death goddess' army had been bearing down on them.
How else would he stop her from slaying and raising them as her own twisted servants?
He was far more versed in the art of Opening, of connecting to worlds other than his own with how often he had called upon the strength and wisdom of otherworldly heroes—Heroes, Commander Anna would correct, though he saw no real meaning in the distinction—when he had been the Summoner of Zenith. He had been the Summoner of Askr, but that had changed when he—his other self rather—created a part of the Verse of Ragnarøkkr to slay Surtr when he refused to partake in the Rite of Frost. His other selves did not know the name of that power and certainly did not know it remained with them when they'd been spirited away by the dying wish of their betrothed, but he did not blame them. The reason he remembered was because he was meant to. He was the keeper of all they lost and the power they could not wield as they were. Perhaps when the Beast Who Would Be a Man and the Fallen Star became the Infernal Star or Twilight Walker in their unity, he could return to them and return all they had forgotten. They would need to not get themselves killed or force him out in full if that was to happen, their body was going to suffer greatly when he relinquished his control and would need immediate treatment or they would die, simple as that. He could already feel that time drawing nearer so he needed to act swiftly and decisively.
He would start with the white clad warriors attempting to strike at him from all sides.
He gave them credit, their strikes were coordinated, much more so than the other rabble his other had fought not long ago. their coordination did not, however, make them anything resembling effective.
Two went for his throat, one using the other as a distraction as they tried to enter his guard with a small blade. It did them no good when they turned to ash on contact with his aura. Another tried to conjure a blade or wind behind him ready to launch it as two others rushed him with glowing weapons. He humored them, bending backwards to avoid a joint assault just as the wind blade was released—impossibly slow in his eyes. He continued to bend, arcing over the wind blade as it passed beneath him and ignited, ramming into the first of the melee duo before they had time to leap to the side. A spear of ice greeted him as he flipped onto his feet, accompanied by the second member of the melee duo while the first tried and failed to put out the azure flames engulfing him. A beat behind them and off to the side were dozens of compressed spheres of air waiting for him to move that way.
He realized then that they hadn't figured out that he could see the orbs, not that he was going to deal with them in the first place: his others were correct in labeling Wind Mages as grand nuisances to deal with so they needed to be taken care of sooner rather than later. With that in mind he pointed Breidablik at the mage in a lazy manner, firing a piercing beam of prismatic light through the mage's chest in a smooth motion. Before the mage conjuring the ice spear and other warrior could fathom what had happened, he vanished, appearing behind them as they too turned to ash. Both had died the moment he drew near them.
Skilled and coordinated, but ultimately human and ordinary humans could not defeat him in his current state. When his energy was fully depleted that would be another story, but until then he was their worst nightmare, perhaps even worse for what he was about to do.
"Come, servants of ash and flame," he intoned as the flames around him turned a bright crimson, forming numerous spiral shell patterned halo shaped gateways. By now the assassins realized that directly approaching him was a death wish, but they did not react in time to escape his follow up. The gateways expanded, the flames from them spreading along the ground and ceiling like molten veins as pure white ash spread, gathering and coalescing until they took on the the shape of burning swordsmen and women. One lunged forward with a rapier, piercing through an assassin after drawing the thin blade to her chest while another cleaved through several others as he whirled past them with a blade of rotating metal teeth. A third danced between strikes once the assassins tried to fight back, her distinct twirl and flow of movement leaving behind mirages of her form before each cut through one of their assailants in an instant while a fourth gathered an inferno at the tip of his blade and swung down, vaporizing the few unlucky enough to approach him mid charge.
Then the flames became a verdant green, bringing forth axe wielding warriors that surged into the thinning group of would be killers as some chose to flee down the corridor. Those that stayed were mercilessly cut down, either by a warrior wielding a lightning clad cursed blade or a burning knight atop a steed of flame, mowing down those too slow to move as the crimson flames dispersed into piles of molten ash. As the last of that number fell and the rest were far down the corridor, the flames took on a sapphire hue.
The Summoner wordlessly flew behind the fleeing assassins, passed by a duo of burning riders that merged into a great lance of flame as they rode down the stragglers of the fleeing group. They were drawing near the Exalt's group, something he couldn't allow.
"Ephraim, if you would," he breathed, drawing the sapphire flames into a single point as they took on the near complete form of a lightly armored man with a long spear. The man stood by the Summoner's side as his relic began to glow, shifting into sapphire lance with a gold ringed tip in his hands. The two took on mirrored stances, the Summoner with his spear to the left while the flaming simulacra of a foreign prince held his spear to the right. It wasn't the real thing—lacking the strong willed prince's disposition and holding only a fraction of his skill as a hastily created replica—but he didn't need the full might of the prince of Renais at this moment, this echo of him would do.
In unison the two began to twirl their weapons, starting at their sides then moving overhead before drawing back as a sphere of bright blue flames with a prismatic core formed between them. With a single step, the duo thrust forwards, unleashing a spiraling pillar of azure heat and death towards the remaining assassins before they could reach Emmeryn and those near her.
The timing there was fortuitous, any slower and the assassins would have reached the other group and he'd have had to more carefully deal with them. While he had fine control of his flames, he couldn't account for his allies' behavior if they couldn't recognize him or if they moved in the way of his flames by mistake. Living beings were unfortunately spontaneous and often did things outside of what was expected—even if within some form of predictable limits.
"Ephraim, you may go," he breathed, glancing at the now idle simulacrum of the prince. It dissipated in short order after cocking its head to the side in acknowledgment, the flames composing its form returning to him as he made a simple gesture in the air. The ashes of the fallen soon followed, flowing into him as he landed and drew the fiery aura into himself. Not a moment later did he round the corner and address the group beyond it. "Do not be alarmed."
He was met by a spear and curved sword pointed his way, but he ignored them as he glanced over the group.
The foreign leaders were here, as were Phila and several of his companions from Zenith. He could sense others, but they were scattered across the castle.
"Sir... Apollonia, is that truly you," Phila tried, wariness evident in the way she trained her spear on him.
"Indeed," he said simply. The name was meaningless to him—he didn't have a name in the first place as power given will—but it was better to go by that then explain the full details of the situation when there were still ongoing battles. "I believe Lissa and Maribelle made it to you in one piece?"
"They did, though the princess said that there were assassins behind them."
"There were," he nodded. "They have been dealt with."
"I see..." The Wing Commander wasn't certain on whether to continue the conversation or request his aid. He could tell as much and decided to offer some assistance on the matter.
"As we speak there are several smaller skirmishes ongoing within the castle and one larger battle. Would it not be best to deal with those for the time being then fully regroup?"
"It would be, but–"
"Hold it, White Wings," the red haired king interrupted. "You're really just going along with the fact that this thing is the green haired idiot we ran into earlier? Not even taking into account the fact that he's floating or that his hair is a mess of colors or that his eyes are demonic, his mannerisms are completely different!"
"No, that's Kiran alright," Henry spoke up. The normally jovial man had a deep frown on his face. "Though the last time he was like this was when he went off the deep end for a bit."
"So he's mad like I'm supposed to be at the present?" The red haired man looked unconvinced.
"That was the only time we've seen him in such a state, your highness," Tharja corrected, "He appears to be in full control of himself at the moment, however odd his mannerisms are."
Lon'qu grunted in agreement. "We'd not be having a conversation if he was in the same state he'd been in then."
Indeed. He'd likely be razing the palace without a thought in his mind if those had been the circumstances of his temporary awakening.
The one eyed fortress of a man looked him over and gave a short hum. "We can discuss that later, we still have other things to deal with."
The red haired leader looked like he wanted to argue, but he clicked his tongue instead.
"Let's get moving then. The sooner we finish this, the sooner I can get some sleep... if there're any suitable rooms remaining after all of this nonsense."
The sooner he could request healing and revert to his original state without complete spending what reserves he had. The fire based summoning had used a fairly sizable amount of his energy, though not enough to put him in dire straits at the present. That would be the growing drain as he used the majority of his energy to keep his wounds from growing more dire. If not for that he likely could have handled the smaller skirmishes from this spot alone, simulating the power of Opening for but a moment to actually summon warriors to this world at the points of conflict. He could see them after all, the stone walls and marble floors not much of a hindrance when he could see the lifeforce of those Nicola considered allies as conveniently blue colored flames of varying intensities.
"Let us go. Time is short," the Summoner simply said, striding past the group.
Robin had regained her composure, working in tandem with the orange haired rogue that had accompanied one of two Annas she knew. He wasn't her first choice, she would have preferred to work with Aversa over him and she didn't like the smug woman in the slightest, but when Morgan was taking care of Morgan—she really needed a way to differentiate the two of them once things calmed down—and the rabbit eared woman was now hauling Anna away from debris and spellfire splashing towards her she had limited options. Donnel was right out as well, he was still injured for all that she could feel the restless energy building within him and she wasn't sure his spearmanship would help when getting close to the enemy magi was hard even with Aversa matching him spell for spell.
"Bubbles, think we can push him further back down this hall," the thief asked, firing another small arrow from the mechanism on his arm at Validar. The arrow veered off to the side, the sorcerer barely glancing at it as he swept a blade of crimson magic away with a gesture. In the same motion black spears shot towards Aversa, who countered with an azure lion's maw. The spears snapped like twigs in the construct's mouth before it bulged and warped, bursting into a squirming mass of dark power as Validar turned his hand upwards. A flurry of green owls and grey orbs met the mass of power before it could form into a proper spell, the conflicting powers nullifying one another as Aversa pointed towards her former master.
"Enough games," she huffed, crimson eyes burning bright as five sigils of light formed around her. The first was crimson, bearing the sigil of a raven with blade shaped feathers in its center while roaring flames swirled around it. The second was verdant, surrounded by a ring of owls as a serpentine creature with axe head shaped spines coiled around itself in its center. The third was cerulean, bearing the visage of a lion with a mane of spears as orbs of lightning cracked around it. The fourth was bright silver, housing a duo of fox-like creatures bearing dagger-like fangs and arrow shaped scales along their legs as light was drawn into a black aureole adorned with spikes around the outer edge of the ring. The final ring was golden, bearing the four creatures circling one another as five wheels of feathered wings dotted with starry patterns spun around it.
Robin hadn't seen such magic before, in the same manner she hadn't seen the odd combination of animal and weapon based magic Aversa wielded once she ceased using dark magic. To say it was foreign was an understatement, it appeared to be an entirely different system of magic rather than anything from Ylisse or Plegia.
"Bubbles, don't get distracted," the orange haired man snapped, shaking her from her wonder. "Silver's gonna burn herself out at this rate and Ears and Anna aren't gonna be able to do much when he does if we can't get tall, dark and sinister further down this hall."
"And why does his placement matter," Robin said, already gathering lightning in her hands.
"There's another ally I have on the outside, Anna's fiancé. He's in position to launch a surprise attack on the guy, but where we are now isn't lining up well with his vantage point. We get the mage down there and we can hit him from both sides."
It was an... adequate idea, she supposed. She'd have to assume that the rogue wasn't expecting something like his wrist mounted bow to do much of anything.
"Fine," she agreed. It was better than fighting on the backfoot once Aversa did burn herself out. She'd been matching the elder mage spell for spell, but she appeared to be tiring faster than he was as that vile aura burned around him.
Her power, a distorted and rasping version of her voice said as she looked for the best way to push the sorcerer back. So far, she couldn't think of anything that would be particularly effective: there were too many variables she couldn't count on to work in her favor as things were, not without endangering everyone other than herself in one way or another. If she asked the rabbit-eared woman to distract Validar, she would likely get torn apart by dark spellfire once she got remotely near him and calling on Morgan or Donnel was completely out of the question. Aversa was likewise out of the picture, even before she began readying her grand work of magic, being the one holding off the brunt of the mage's magics The Anna in the area had lacking combat abilities, even compared to Donnel at the present, beyond her bottled concoctions and her concoctions weren't exactly subtle for all that they were effective. They would need someone fast and stealthy to...
"Gathus, do you think you can reach the mage if I provide you some cover from afar," the silver haired woman asked, frowning at the idea that came to mind. "If you don't think you can reach him in one piece, tell me now."
"It's Gaius and it really depends. If you can keep his eyes off me once I'm out in the open, I can reach him no problem, though I'm not gonna be able to do much beyond that, Bubbles."
"And if I had you deliver one of Anna's bottles to him in a surprising maneuver?"
An orange eyebrow raised as the thief's head tilted just slightly. "Again, if you can keep his attention off of me and make sure I can get away relatively unscathed, I definitely can. Silver's doing a good job keeping him distracted with the flashy magic she's trying to work, but that won't afford her much time and I don't think he's gonna be keen on letting her finish what she's working at."
Indeed. Even before Aversa's sigils had fully formed, Validar's torrent of dark magic focused in on her, but not so much that he couldn't see his surroundings. Every time the rabbit woman even thought about getting close, at least for spells flew her, Anna's or Robin's way, forcing them to scatter. That wasn't even including the ease in which he still managed to snatch spells out of the air like they were nothing as he met Aversa's with his own or how easily he redirected Gaius' arrows without a proper glance.
It was easy to see that without Aversa the lot of them would probably be dead several times over.
Not us. Robin almost shuddered as the rasping, wet version of her voice hissed in her ears. We could unmake him now if you weren't afraid.
Less afraid and more certain of the outcome. There would be consequences if she was outed as Grima or a servant of them anyways. She'd without a doubt be persecuted on the spot and no amount of arguing from Chrom or his family would see her spared the wrath of Naga's clergy. So not afraid, simply certain.
"I'll see what I can do," she finally said. "You aren't allowed to die, so pull back if you feel like you're at risk—at greater risk than you are now. I'll let you handle getting what you need from Anna to pull this off, just don't take too long."
"Wha–"
She had already rushed forward as the thief began to protest. He could handle that much, he had a better rapport with Anna in the first place. She dismissed that thought as a red lightning crackled around her, a remnant of her earlier anger. She wasn't above using that, so long as her emotions did not escape her control again. Her eyes narrowed as she felt worth bubbling in her veins, her crimson eyes burning brightly as she gathered the lightning into a swirling sphere.
By that point Validar's attention had partially focused on her, sickly purple orbs and rings of dark power lazily floating towards her as swift crescent sickles raced towards her from either side. The tactician hopped back a step then charged forward, deftly evading the blades meant to cut her to pieces as she released the lightning mass towards the towering mage. It wasn't a spell per se, not one with a name at least. The magic was somewhere between an Elthunder and an Arcthunder, a spell she couldn't reliably cast without several minutes worth or preparation at the present, though far closer in scope to the former as the swirling mass of lightning—not quite a sphere or compact enough to qualify as a fully formed Arcthunder, but not a spear as she often shaped her Elthunders into—shot forth. She expected Validar to nullify the spell as he did with others, already preparing two other spells in her spread hands, but was surprised to see him jerk away from the not-spell. He unleashed a wave of shadowy spikes her way in the same motion, but Robin had already dropped one of her prepared spells to reassert control of the lightning spell as she threw herself over the incoming wave of magic. That turned out to be a poor choice as crossing blades of magic materialized just in front of her, but something large wrapped around her waist and yanked her to the ground before the deadly spell could connect. That cost her fine control of the lightning mass and made her lose focus on the other spell in her off hand as the wind left her lungs, but she wasn't going to complain when she still had a head on her shoulders.
"That was reckless, manspawn," an imperious voice echoed as the Silver Tactician came face to face with a rabbit easily twice her size. A shallow cross had been carved into a bony face mask adorning its head, but the beast looked no worse for wear as glowing pink eyes gave her a dismissive glance. "Even your kin was not that reckless."
Before she could respond the rabbit picked her up with surprisingly delicate control and placed her on its—her, it did not take a genius to connect the giant rabbit to the rabbit-eared woman—back.
"You've my thanks, but we're now a rather large target," the tactician managed, hiding her embarrassment.
"Was that not your intention, running ahead as you did, manspawn?" The rabbit woman had her there she supposed, Before she could retort however, the rabbit had darted forward, far faster than anything her size had any reason to be capable of moving. They didn't travel far, oppressive spellfire cut off the approach to Validar as he showed no signs of flagging while the burning aura surrounded him, but the tactician felt her hair whipping in the wind as her ally swerved to the side and leapt out of the former corridor.
"WAAAAAH," She cried out, only to stop as the large and armored rabbit flipped through the air to avoid another cross of dark magic accompanied by spikes and violet fireballs that abruptly turned in the air to hound them. It was hard to be taciturn and calm when her stomach was rolling over itself and her head was spinning, jumbling her thoughts. It didn't help that once the rabbit women found purchase on the stony exterior of the palace she grew faster still as she raced along the walls beneath the corridor they'd been battling in.
"Be silent, your cries are beyond grating," the large rabbit stated sternly.
"Excuse me for being surprised and out of my element," Robin returned, managing to steel herself through clenched teeth. She couldn't say much more or risk biting off her own tongue. That would be a rather pathetic end, she thought grimly as the rabbit woman unceremoniously threw her off her back a moment before she rolled into the far end of the corridor they'd been fighting the sorcerer in. Before she could register she was in the air, the beast woman plucked her out of the air and dropped her on the ground.
It took a great deal of willpower for her to not lose her stomach from that, but she didn't have the time to catch her breath as the fireballs from before raced towards her. With something between a gasp and a cough, she conjured a small orb of lightning and threw it towards the approaching spells. It was nothing more than a Thunder spell, but she was an old hand at this particular gimmick. She glanced between the approaching spells, the tiny orb hopping between each of them before it sparked on contact with the last. A wave of heat hit her as the fireballs ruptured prematurely, the detonation of the final one chaining to each of the others before they could reach Robin or the rabbit woman.
A smirk crossed her face before she felt the hair on the back of her neck raise. She felt something tackle her to the side as a violet mass shot past her stopping just short of Validar. The mass quickly took the form of a person, a blonde haired girl in an odd garb. A familiar presence hit her a moment later. She was the woman from the village chapel.
"Validar, we're out of time," she said, voice panicked by something.
"Do not presume to tell me something I'm aware of," he barked in return, conjuring a wall of black flames as a burning crimson fell towards him. Robin couldn't make out all of the details, but she swore she saw a massive set of wings for a brief moment.
"Then cease your games and flee. Our lady bade us retreat with the utmost haste!"
"Surely I can handle such rabble before—" As the willowy man spoke, Robin felt an unsettling power was over her. Her heart seized in her chest as her blood ran cold. The voice of her monstrous self, the voice of the Fell Dragon, fell deathly silent in the same moment as she felt her eye and chest burn with searing pain. Her vision blurred as azure embers began to fall, grinding the battle to a halt.
"Validar, we need to go," the blonde girl insisted, but the mage appeared to be locked in place.
"What manner of sorcery is this," he snarled, eyes blazing before a green set of jaws pierced through his wall of flames. The mage, regaining his composure, leapt back and narrowly avoided being snapped up as the serpentine jaws slammed shut where he'd been standing once before. If not for the blonde woman pulling him back further, he would have taken a bright green bottle of liquid to the face. Sadly, her intervention didn't account for the arrow striking it a heartbeat later, showering him in class and corrosive liquid.
The mage screamed as his skin began to sizzle and burn, his eyes filled with glass as a second arrow flew his way. The blonde girl caught that one and unleashed a thin ray of lightning in return, only to careen away from an azure spear covered mass. The construct roared, only to be cut short as Validar pierced through it with innumerable pillars of darkness, but he wasn't ready for the silvery bladed foxes to whip past him, tearing deep cuts into his sides as he blindly raged. The girl made quick work of the foxes, calling upon some shifting mass of metal that easily cut through them. Neither she, nor he was ready for the thief that darted between them.
The sound of metal grating against metal filled the air as Gaius rolled along the floor, a broken blade in hand as blood spurted from the tall mage's neck.
"Such impudence," the mage growled, turning toward the thief. He could not see, but that didn't stop him from bombarding the orange haired man with countless spells in return for the injury. Gaius didn't bother trying to dodge the spellfire, opting to hop out of the window as the blonde girl conjured spears of lightning around him. Surprise filled his eyes as one passed through his shoulder and another through his leg, but Robin managed to wrest control of the others from the girl before they could slay the foolish—not that he'd survive the fall he'd started.
Perhaps that was why Robin found herself airborne, ignoring the furious yells of Vajra as she, for the briefest of moments, called upon her proper power. She wasn't expecting black spots to fill her vision as her shoulders erupted with pain, but she grit through it as she wished to reach the thief before he hit the ground. The pain did not subside, even as she felt herself moving faster through the air, growing closer to the thief until he was dangling from her arms just above the ground.
"I told you, you aren't allowed to die," she hissed, eyes burning as she glared at the hazy eyed Gaius.
"Worth it," he croaked out as hot rain began to fall. She almost dropped the fool as he reached towards her face, jerking back almost on reflex as he withdrew a moist finger. Ah, not rain then, tears. But why? She knew the man for less than an hour.
"Don't think you can get away," the enraged sorcerer called, only to freeze. He couldn't see her, yet something else had given him pause. That proved to be fatal when a silver streak slammed into his chest from afar. He blindly glanced down, confusion evident. "There was no such word of a sniper..."
And then he slumped, barely caught by Vajra. She wordlessly glared and vanished in a flash, but not before the sky darkened. Red tinged rain fell as black lightning crackled overhead. Clouds swirled ominously as the air became charged with malicious power. Stone shattered as the winds whipped and fought, tearing against itself as if it was struggling against the oppressive force in the air. The lightning tore across the sky, slowly but surely forming a great ring as a thin pillar of dark light fell upon the castle, obliterating it and all within it.
Horror flashed across the tactician's face as the gravity of the attack hit her full force, greater even than the shockwave that sent her and Gaius rolling into a mass of grey feathers. She almost cried out, but her voice did not leave her as the world turned grey for a moment. Confusion overtook her as the world began to rewind itself around her and the injured thief. First when the shockwave, then every bit of damage caused by the beam as it shot back into the sky and the unnaturally dark clouds wove away from one another until Vajra and the critically wounded Validar reappeared where they had been moments before.
Without a word, Vajra vanished along with the mage and the clouds began to swirl once more. Panic touched Robin as she realized it was going to happen again, that the Shepherds and everyone she cared about would be wiped away in an instant for a second time before something changed. As the thin beam of power fell from the sky like the headsman's axe, a small mass shot towards it from the castle. The mass struck the beam and Robin could only gasp as the beam faltered. Then a second, red mass hit it and the beam shattered into tiny lights. The roiling dark clouds parted, like something had cleaved them open to reveal a clear night sky full of falling stars.
Then the world rewound a second time and only a single mass flew into the sky, leaving reat gouge marks through the clouds before power could even gather. It fell soon after, but the second mass met it and appeared to catch it.
"Bubbles, did you see all of that," Gaius asked after a long silence. She did not know how to answer immediately.
"Quiet," she finally said. "Focus on recovering and we'll talk afterwards."
"R-right." With that, the orange haired man passed out in her arms.
Three hundred twenty-seven. That was the number of servants and workers within the castle killed that night. The number drew closer to five hundred including all of the knights, pegasus riders and mounts similarly caught up in the chaotic battle. Yet this was considered a grand victory. All of the assassins and assailants had been routed or made to flee and none in the royal family had been slain.
That didn't make the following days taste anything less like ash to Emmeryn. Certainly, one could have said that she played the greatest role in saving lives by undoing the events that would have led to them, but she could not save everyone and she'd pushed herself past her limits when she had died for a second time that evening. The first time had been against that odd blonde woman, but the second had been from something she didn't even have time to register as she was being forced to rest. The moment she saw everything unwind and every part of her body burn as if she'd been set ablaze, she knew she had to try and stop it. So try she did, first attempting to make contact with the transfigured Nicola and the Guardian, getting them together in time to stop the attack, but not swiftly enough to stop either of them from perishing from the power behind it.
Her second attempt went much better at the cost of her feeling like her body would tera itself to pieces if she did more than shuffle and speak in a rasp. The transformed Nicola was somehow already aware of what she wanted and he agreed to stopping the attack so long as she immediately mobilized a great deal of healers for what was to follow. She did so and had word rushed to the church as quickly as she could that they would need a great deal of healers in time to see the transfigured spearman cut through the night sky and fall, requiring the Guardian to save him before he met his untimely end. Neither she nor the elder Anna expected him to look fine one moment then suddenly be covered in near fatal injuries the next, considering he looked barely singed while he was in the Guardian's hands.
She was thankful that the church was quick to mobilize and had two of their best working with him while the rest of their oddly depleted numbers went to check on everyone else in the palace. She soon found out that the Hierarch, Pontiff and a number of healers had been attacked by an unknown woman and a number of knights. The Hierarch had managed to escape with his life, but the Pontiff had not and a great many of the clerics and clergymen had been gravely injured in the sudden and brutal assault. What made matters worse was that the knights had been actual people from Ylisse—volunteers from the Tethys Duchy—unlike the black blooded shells that had been convincing imitations of people until they were slain. Then there was the news that Lady Alexandra had been slain a few days prior and her brother had absconded, which did not not paint the Tethys Duchy in a good light.
Aside from that, there were many injured in the attack, most being servants, soldiers and members of the Shepherds. Most notably was Nicola, who was still in critical condition even now as his wounds very slowly mended themselves even with the aid of curative spells. Like as not, several would become debilitating with how slowly they healed. Following him was the girl named Morgan and the cloaked Lillisette, who appeared to be some form of Manakete. Then there were numerous Shepherds, Chrom included, with injuries ranging from severe to mild. For several days Sully could not use her left arm, before strength miraculously returned to it, far greater than what she had before. Conversely, Frederick lost use of his left arm, first being unable to hold anything steady with it before he lost the ability to use it at all—mirroring the exact same symptoms his red haired compatriot had.
Both of Khan Basilio's daughters had taken injuries and the Dark Witch of Plegia had burnt through her magic reserves to such a degree that she was physically enfeebled and bedridden. Neither leader placed that blame on her, though she wished they had.
"I'm glad that they're both alive," Basilio said, looking old for a brief moment. "While I can't protect them from everything and I certainly can't stop them from following their hearts—that would be tantamount to crushing their Feroxi spirit—a part of me hoped that we could have been together before things got as wild as they did."
"If Aversa chose to burn herself out killing the Grimleal High Priest, that's good for her," was Gangrel's reply. She thought him to be callous before he continued. "Until her disappearing act awhile back, she was practically under his thumb and did everything he said with the sort of malice and glee you'd expect of most of those corpse worshiping cultists. When she returned, she distanced herself from them and, until recently, I thought it was some sort of ploy to get me to let my guard down around her. Part of me still thinks that's the case, but even I recognize her distancing herself from the man who more or less raised her to protect her enemies isn't something a loyal cultist would do."
Emmeryn had little in the way of words she could offer to either of them, so she instead took to helping heal the others until it was time for the inevitable discussion both leaders had been called for. That meant checking on Lissa, who rarely left the side of Maribelle. The heiress of the Themis Duchy had awakened less than a day after the conflict ended and was in mostly fine condition all things considered. Her torso was a mess of blue and purple bruises with several deep cuts and her tendons needed to be cut then healed back together so that she could eventually walk again, but she could have been in far worse shape. The two of them, with some assistance, would then spend most of their time looking over Nicola as he slowly healed.
Chrom appeared to be locked in deep thought for a few days, eventually explaining that the opponent he encountered fought like someone well versed in their swordsmanship school—more even than the ever elusive Marth, who stayed until Lillisette recovered enough to awaken before vanishing. Before her brother could end up lost in his thoughts for too long, the elder of Basilio's daughters crashed into his chambers with Sumia in tow and dragged him around town to distract him from his woes. That caused the Exalt to chuckle, her brother looked like a fish out of water as the energetic woman and much shyer woman ran him ragged and doted on him in equal measure. It was best that he experienced some form of happiness while she dealt with the heavier issues soon to arise.
Then there were the people that chose to help defend her despite not having any real reason to do so. The first were the Anna who ran a smithy in town and her companion, Jake, who had both helped deal with the gates unleashing those shells resembling people and were currently discussing things with the merchant Anna in regard to what they would need to repair the palace. It wasn't something they needed to do, but they both said they enjoyed living in the capital so they may as well offer a bit more assistance... for a price. Emmeryn could already hear the palace coffers crying out.
Then there was the very injured and very recently employed Gaius, a thief that managed to win over Chrom. It helped that Lord Virion spoke up on his behalf as well, claiming him to be the informant that informed him of the attack and the same man that had helped him fend off would be assassins weeks prior. Then there was the boy Morgan, who further said that the orange haired man had helped him save the girl Morgan, who was now out and about. That didn't stop Robin, who now sported a large pair of grey feathered wings for some reason, from hovering around him and keeping a close eye on him—a much closer eye when it pertained to sweets and the like.
Lastly there was Panne, the last remaining Taguel, who had not needed to make herself known or offer her aid. The rabbit-eared woman had nonetheless and Emmeryn considered whatever debt the other woman felt she owed repaid in full. She hadn't expected her to remain in the halidom after that, the woman was rightfully distrustful of most humans and a solitary person by nature, but she hovered around the twin Morgans, Donnel and Ricken as a sort of overseer.
"Milady, you need to rest," Phila sighed, finding her standing in front of the hole that had once held a portrait of her mother and father. "Your strength is not yet returned and the coming days will be long."
"Do not worry, Phila," Emmeryn said, lilac eyes meeting the Wing Commander's without harming her. She offered a lopsided smile as the sweet scent of fresh flowers, honey and loamy carried on the wind. "I will be fine."
A/N: This chapter was rather difficult to write because the entire time i was working on it I wanted to work on the chapter following it. That led to distraction, slowdowns and several one shots. Aside from that. I've not much to say on it.
...Actually, that's incorrect. The aspect of Nicola seen here is exactly as described: power given will and direction. It would be better to call it a failsafe in the event both Nicola and Apollyon proper get taken out of the picture, but they don't outright die. Depending on what their last thoughts were at the time, the power they both keep at bay manifests and follows that directive to the best of its ability, determined by how badly injured their body is at the time of it being unleashed. In this case, the bulk of its power was used to keep Nicola's body from succumbing to the injuries from the previous chapter while simultaneously forcing the body to act as if it was in peak condition. As seen by the end of the chapter, that isn't something that can just be walked off and it will have some pretty major effects on the next arc and how Nicola approaches things.
Aside from that, thank you for keeping up with with this story, even with the major delay on this chapter. It does men a great deal to me. Until the next chapter, thank you again.