Severa: Less than Perfect

"Severa. I'm… I'm sorry."

Severa didn't turn to look. Of course she was sorry. Of course she'd say it was her fault. Lucina always took the blame. Even when no-one could accuse her.

A decent person would say "No. It's not your fault. It's mine." There was enough pain for two without amplifying it. Without lying about who did what. Enough guilt no matter how you shoved it around.

Severa didn't feel like a decent person.

"You should be."

Lucina opened her mouth.

"And I don't want to hear one more damn word!"

Lucina closed her mouth and backed away. Good. Little miss perfect should know how everyone else felt. Now the only person for Severa to hate was herself.

Her sister was gone. That made a clean sweep. There were five of them once. Happy little family. Perfect mother, perfect father, adorable baby brother, brilliant younger sister. And Severa. Severa who tried. Severa who shouldn't feel bad. Severa, the castoff.

Now Severa was the only one left. First mom died doing something stupid for Chrom. Left them all alone. Then dad went missing when Chrom died. Someone stole Mark away, probably as a sacrifice to Grima or the Risen. It was just her and Morgan. Two against the world.

They weren't much of a family. But Severa made sure they were a good one. She kept Morgan safe from the undead, safe from starvation, safe from the world. She got them to Ylisstol.

And, to be fair, Morgan was worth it. The perfect daughter for a perfect family. What Severa wanted to be. Smart. Adorable without even trying. (Not like Severa, who had to work for hours to look right.) Funny, upbeat and charming. Even her flaws were charming. You'd hate her if she wasn't so stupidly loveable.

In her worst moments, Severa thought that, even if she was a waste, she was at least bringing up the daughter her parents deserved.

Then Morgan… then Severa let Morgan go on a scouting mission. She'd killed a few Risen. Seen people die. She was an adult, more or less, and there was no point keeping her from doing something simple.

Then risen had to ambush them out of nowhere. No reason for it, not many people, no real mission. Just one minute they were gone, then they were gone with no coming back.

Severa was alone. No point in living but living. But dying would make her even more of a burden. She existed. Killed risen. Took in food. Killed more risen. Slept.

Lucina worried about her. Lucina worried about everyone. The rest of the army was just grateful Severa wasn't talking down to them so much.

Severa drifted towards the edge of camp. To long range patrols. To things on the border of death. Not many people missed her. And all the people she missed were gone already.

It wasn't much of a life. But it was constant.

"Severa? Are you there?"

She scrambled to her feet when she heard the voice. Sword out. Shield ready.

The voice spoke again.

"Wow. I've never seen you get up this fast. Isn't a growing woman supposed to brush her hair like, a thousand times if she wants to look her best?"

"...Morgan?"

A girl stepped out of the shadows. Red hair. Bright eyes. A smile. (Tired and sad compared to the usual, but it was still a smile.)

"Yup! Still your favorite sister."

"You stupid little turd! You know how much I worried about you? With mom and dad gone, and, I mean…"

Severa cried for the first time since her mother died. It was too hard to cry when things went wrong these days. This was something too right.

Morgan leaned in for a hug.

"Sorry. If it makes you feel any better, you were totally right about uncooked bear meat being better."

Severa smiled.

"I was joking."

"Oh. Well, it totally is."

"We've got to get back to camp. Lucina and Cynthia have been so smug lately. It's time someone reminded her what a good younger sister looks like."

Morgan stepped back.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Dad's… um, are you sitting down? No, wait, ha ha. No chairs out here! Dad's alive."

"WHAT?"

"I knew you'd be surprised."

"That's impossible. He died with Chrom."

"They never found the body."

"Like he'd abandon Mr. Perfect. Mom died for him. Dad did the same. Look Morgan. I know you think you saw his body or something stupid like that, but dad's dead. And you're not."

"No. I saw him! Mark too."

"What?"

"You know. Our brother? Chubby cheeked cherub? Oh, hey. Alliteration! Anyway, he's with dad too."

"If dad was alive he wouldn't have abandoned us!"

Severa slammed her mouth shut. She didn't care that much. She didn't need him, or mother. She and Morgan were enough.

They had to be enough. People don't come back. Or at least, they didn't come back right, didn't come back as anything but a shambling corpse you needed to put down.

"He just wanted to… it's dad. It's really dad. I don't know why he wasn't there before, but he wants to be a family again. Isn't that enough?"

"No! He runs out on us like mom, leaves me to try to keep you safe for ten years, and he doesn't even say he's sorry?"

"I'm… he's really sorry. I think."

"Well he can tell that to Lucina. Tell her he's sorry he got her father killed and left all of us listening to her all the time."

"Um, that's… that's not going to work."

"Well too bad! If he's really sorry then he can tell someone he hurt who might forgive him."

"Uh, Severa? Didn't you say that you were glad Chrom was dead?"

"That doesn't matter! Gawds Morgan, everyone knows I'm horrible! But dad wasn't! He should be making things better! He should be fixing everything."

"He can't."

"He should! We need someone to fix everything! He couldn't be a good dad because he was too busy saving the world? Well now I want him to save the world! It's too late for him to be a good dad. Maybe it's too late for the world too, but he should at least try!"

Morgan slid her foot on the ground.

"WELL?"

"Maybe… dad doesn't want it saved?"

"Then dad's a… wait. What?"

"I don't know! He just wants us to be together again. You, me, our baby brother, who isn't really a baby anymore but "

"Morgan, that's insane. You're insane... but that's okay. Everyone loved how crazy you were anyway. Just come back. Everyone misses you. I miss you."

"I can't."

"You can! It's easy. I could do it, and no-one likes me half as much as they like you. We need something to go right, Morgan."

"But… dad."

"Forget dad!"

"I can't. He needs me. Are you sure you can't come?"

"Yes!"

Morgan frowned for the first time in Severa's memory.

"I can't stay, then. This is goodbye, then?"

"It doesn't have to be, you idiot!"

"It does. So, um,"

Morgan leaned in for another hug.

"I love you. You're the best sister I could have ever had. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks. I love you too."

Morgan vanished into the woods. Severa fell back into her bedroll and slept. In the morning, there was nothing. Not even a footprint.

Severa walked back to camp after another five days of patrol. Nothing but risen came after that, and not many of them. It would have been easy to believe she hadn't seen anything, if she wanted to. But the memory stayed.

Lucina met her at the gate with Owain and Gerome. Fresh off a strategy meeting or some other exclusive club. Ugh.

Imagine the looks on their faces if she'd brought dad back. Dad and Morgan and even her kid brother. They'd change their attitude then.

No. Wait. They wouldn't. That was the worst part of people that perfect. They'd all get along and maybe even smile about how things had gone right for once. How they had a chance again. But they wouldn't think less of her for not managing it.

Severa took away the one thing they might feel good about, and they would just tell her they were glad she came back alive. Hooray for the failure. At least if they yelled at her, she could get some pleasure in hating them.

"Did you see anything, Severa?"

"Just risen. Not that many, but it felt like there were going to be more soon. They were probably setting up a trap or something stupid like that."

"The Risen were planning? That's not normal. Do you think Grima could be coming?"

"Gawds, Lucina! If you want more, go out and ask them yourself!"

"I'm sorry. But this could be important."

"I don't know! Now go bother someone less tired of your miss perfect act!"

Lucina stepped back. Owain opened his mouth, but Severa shoved him to the side before he could do something stupid. She didn't have the time for him now.

The walk deeper into the castle was miserable. Severa had one thing she'd done right over the years. One thing. And even that was gone now. What kind of excuse for a human being was she? Her mom would be ashamed of her. Anyone in their right mind would be ashamed to have her for a daughter.

Her pity party was interrupted by a soldier's bark.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Severa straightened her back for an argument. Then she looked. The man was yelling at someone else. The white haired girl she'd seen around the camp a few times backed away from him.

"I'm sorry! I just… Lucina told me to… I mean… err?"

"A likely story, Plegian scum. I don't know why her highness lets your filthy kind breathe the same air as honest Ylisseans, but I am not her highness."

Severa turned to the man.

"No, you're not. You're a petty little coward who couldn't look at a risen without running away so you're taking it out on a teenage girl."

"How dare you! Who are you to criticize me?"

"Well, I'm someone who was just outside the wall fighting for my life. But if you think you're so much tougher, fine."

Severa pulled her sword. It wasn't a threat. Killing a human being, well, no-one could do that. Not here, not with everything they'd seen. But a little humiliation was fine if he kept acting stupid.

The soldier didn't. He bowed and backed away. Severa was alone with the other girl.

"What a jerk! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Really. It's not so bad."

"He had some nerve, walking all over you like that. Come on. What do you need?"

"Well, some food would be nice."

Severa reached in her pack. Bear meat. Of course.

"Done. It's probably not good, but it's what I had. Anything else you need?"

"No."

"Wrong! You need an older sister to keep scumbags like that from bothering you. I'm Severa."

She extended her hand.

"Noire."

The other girl shook Severa's hand.

"Good to meet you. Come on. There's got to be something better than bear meat around here."

Severa grinned. Well, maybe there was something she could do right. Even now.

Yarne: Last one standing

The knight looked at his son. Looked past his son.

"Your mother would be… proud of you."

Yarne listened to his father's lies and nodded. The catch in his voice told the real story. Oh, he could charge a training dummy, but come a real fight or flight situation, he'd pick flight every time. Meanwhile, the real soldiers like Kjelle and Gerome were already on the front lines. He'd picked garrison duty 'protecting his lord' just to avoid action.

Speaking of his lord, she was breaking half a month's worth of training supplies. Lucina pulled her blade out of the dummy and turned to them. Lucina. Exalt to be and the woman who he was going to be sworn to defend.

The woman who was a better knight than he would ever be already.

"I'm honored to have both of you here, but at this hour, no-one would blame you for returning to your quarters."

Yarne felt his legs ready to turn from the field.

But Frederick shook his head.

"I could say the same to you, my liege. But I've spent too much time around you and your father to expect it. Which means we have to stay on duty to ensure you won't work yourself to death."

Yarne was already muttering under his breath. His father's words only increased the volume.

"So we can work ourselves to death too."

Frederick turned to his son.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"We respect our sworn lord, Yarne. Apologize to Lucina. I'm sorry for my son, my liege. He still has much to learn before he can..."

"Think nothing of it."

Lucina returned to stabbing the dummy and shattering her practice blades. Yarne sighed and stepped forward. If he could run, he'd run. But his father would never allow it. Hours passed, his limbs ached, and his ears picked up the distant screams of battle and the moaning of the dead. He never wanted to be this far out in the borderlands. But Lucina decided to tour the outer walls as part of her duty as Exalt, and his father had insisted that they stay close to protect her. Which put them all out here. Training to stave off death for others a few more days, and inviting death themselves if the walls broke. He'd be dead like his mother and his siblings if they kept this up. Extinction for all of taguel kind. He stumbled into bed shivering, and woke to the bugle for first watch. Training filled every hour not doing chores, patrol, or at a meal.

That was his life for the next few weeks. His miserable, perpetually terrified life, and only better than the alternative because the alternative was death. His father met him every morning to ensure he knew his duty. And every day, he heard the noises of battle draw closer. The humans might not notice, but taguel ears didn't miss the increase in moaning. Death wasn't likely. It was a certainty if they stayed. But Yarne knew that no-one would listen. It was just more of his youthful fatalism. Something that his father tried to work out of him, exercise out of him, and generally remove from his systems to no effect. Some people were made to be heroes. Yarne wasn't. All there was to say. It was hard to guess when the end would come, but it was on its way. All he could do was try to accelerate Lucina's return to the relative safety of Ylisstol and hope she left before his species went extinct.

But his attempts bore little fruit.

"So, by now you've figured out how things go here, err… my liege. So, we should head back now! Lissa's probably worried."

"I need to see the defenses in action before I can say I know these people. And I've heard the sounds of risen in the distance. They could use our assistance."

And the conversation ended when his father arrived. The next day, Yarne tried again, with a different approach.

"I'm sure that they're tired of bedding guests."

Which a guard took as an opportunity to walk by and interject.

"Never, sir. Her highness is always welcome here, especially in times as dark as these. Brand lights up the whole room, and the blade extends it to the fort. It would be an honor to die in your presence, your majesty."

"I can't say I would enjoy it. Ylisse needs you alive. Gods know few enough of us still stand. And I'm sure others would regret your loss even more than I would."

"Certainly, my liege."

Death came closer. Yarne shuddered. He knew he'd go extinct one of these days. With the world the way it was, everyone was doomed. But he wanted to delay it, to savor the last few days weeks months. It seemed no-one here agreed. The monsters were a week out then and Yarne couldn't even escape them in sleep.

His first memory returned in his dreams. His mother. His brothers and sisters. All together. All happy. And then, Risen.

He couldn't remember how they arrived. How they broke into the warren, killed his brothers and sisters. Killed his mother as she shielded him. Then the knight arrived. His father. He couldn't help anyone else. Didn't help anyone else, left them to die. And he was dragged away to the cold stone. He learned his lesson then, years before the rest of the world. Everyone was going to die.

One night, the dream was louder than before. Much louder. Yarne woke to breaking walls and screaming.

"They've breached the gate! THEY BREACHED THE GATES! Gods! Someone sound…"

Gurgling. Moaning.

Yarne's feet hit the ground and the air. He ran for the wall. It didn't matter if there were more of them out there. It didn't matter if he was unarmed. Staying in was suicide! He passed a falling guard, a man he'd eaten with hours ago. He didn't look as the corpse twisted and rose to its feet, joining the horde of the dead. He didn't look for the source of the screaming. He didn't even look for a weapon. He wasn't a knight! He'd never been a knight. It was all lies to appease his father, a comfort against the dark. This wasn't a safe patrol, this wasn't practice. This was life or death, and Yarne chose life, if he could grab it.

Then he heard another voice. His father's.

"All knights of Ylisse, to me. We make our stand here!"

And an advanced subroutine of Yarne's complicated calculus of cowardice kicked in. It would be safer outside if the place fell. It would be safer inside if it were secured. And if he knew for sure, he could make a better plan. Just a glance. A glance would be enough to finish his route. A smaller voice told him that abandoning his father would be more difficult if he saw the disappointment in the old man's eyes, but he let that slide. Not the time for that worry. Too many others jostled ahead of it.

They'd formed a ring on the edge of the inner barracks. Spears jabbed from every hole in the defensive line, and the Risen were falling. Not fast enough to prevent disaster. Not enough to push back. But they were holding the line. If he was a hero, then he'd join in. He wasn't. He wouldn't. And maybe they'd provide enough of a distraction to save his own worthless hide. Just like the rest of his family. Yarne hated himself. Hated himself more than the Risen or anyone else in the world. Any thing, too, except dying. He'd run, and they'd all die, and that would be the end of anyone being willing to be around him. Lonely life, lonely death.

And then he saw a streak of blue.

Further out, cut off. It was probably his mind playing tricks. Reminding him he'd leave his sworn lord to die. And he was running anyway. It was a few seconds before he noticed that he was running in the opposite direction. Towards the fight.

"Yarne! You're alive. Thank the gods."

He didn't say anything. He was too busy staying alive. If his instincts gave up on running, they could at least keep him in the fight. He saw motion. Others coming to his position. Lucina fighting like a demon. His father closing in and skewing half a dozen entombed in a charge. But he didn't react to any of it. His body followed the routines of combat, drilled into him countless times. He held his position. And when the tide turned, he was still standing. They won. Somehow, they won.

And his father was coughing on the ground. Lucina was next to him, but she wasn't a cleric. Even if she had been, there would have been nothing left but burning the body.

A last breath wheezed out of the man.

"Your mother would be proud of you."

This time, it was true.

Morgan(M): Innocent Sinner

Morgan loved his mother.

It was important to remember that. It was the one thing he could be sure of. Father was gone, his older sister was gone, and his younger sister was acting strange lately, even by her standards. The castle was nearly empty, the few remaining servants slouched and groaned when they did their work, everything was dead outside. To sum up, it was the sort of time that could really cut into a guy's natural sunny attitude and zest for life.

But no matter how things changed, he could be sure he loved his mother. Even if she hadn't been as good about showing she loved him back lately. He looked to her, across the room. The servants were gone. His sister (the one he could still talk about) was gone. It was a perfect time for family bonding.

"Mother! I was thinking that we could play something!"

"Of course you do. Tiresome whelp."

"If you don't want to…"

His mother shook her head.

"No. We're a family, after all. Our bonds are precious. So we'll do what you asked. Do you have one in mind?"

The words could have burned through steel, but Morgan laughed.

"Naga's Favor Guides All! It's the best and sometimes I even managed to beat you and…"

"NAGA?"

Morgan stepped back.

"I'm sorry! It's just the one Lucy got for my birthday because the box had a really…"

"Lucy?"

Morgan lifted his hands.

"I'm sorry, mom! I forgot!"

"Don't mention that wretched piece of Naga tainted TRASH in my sight. Do you hear me?"

Meep.

"Of course, mother."

His mother nodded.

"Now. What were you trying to spit out of that wretched little mouth of yours before it tried to betray us both?"

"I just wanted to play a game. I thought you might… I mean, you always used to. Maybe… warlords? There's a bunch of sets around the castle. You had… you bought a bunch of them. Anna said they were cheaper in bulk?"

"Then find one and bring it here. I prefer when you don't waste my time."

Morgan ran into the hall. Warlords! Not his absolute favorite, of course, and all the fiddly little models had been a pain to put together, and the rules were sometimes confusing, but it was a game! With mom! And sure, she'd win easily, but he'd learn, and she'd point out what he did wrong, and maybe someday, with luck, he'd be as good as she was.

He almost tripped carrying the box. Mother rolled her eyes. She never used to do that. Well, that was what was fun about life, right? New things! New experiences! New ways to disappoint the one person in the world he most wanted to please. But thinking about that was downbeat and gloomy, so he'd try to not.

"So, you can be the BLACK FANG mercenaries, and I get the Greil mercenaries. That way neither of us has to deal with the special rules for holy blood."

He smiled at his mother. She had to remember that night. Three hours with the rule sheet. Him and her and his sisters, all trying to figure it out, and then dad came stumbling in and asked why they couldn't just… make a guess. Then he tried to look at the rules. Ha! He'd never seen dad so confused, and that was with the basic deployments!

His mother's face was blank. Morgan tried again.

"Because, that one time…"

"Do you want to play your ridiculous game, or do you want to waste my time?"

"The game."

Morgan spread his armies on the board and let his mother place hers. He ran through her usual openings, trying to remember weaknesses. She had to know he'd plan to counter them, but she sometimes let him take a little ground. His sister said that was just getting a leg up on the old woman, but Morgan had his suspicions. It wouldn't be too much work for mom to throw a few rounds to encourage him to keep trying. Well, he'd try a basic counter, and hope the mind game didn't go too deep.

But he didn't see a single gambit he recognized in his mother's opening moves. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was an amateur's play. Just tossing her mercenaries into the open like they were training dummies! Fortunately for him, he knew his mother was the finest strategic mind in all Ylisse. She'd only do something this dumb as part of a trap. He'd be a fool to go for it.

Then again, what had she said last time he tried to lure her out with an easy target? "Taking the bait is fine, if you don't get trapped doing it." If he could poke without losing his archers, he might get a few points early, before she could get her real plans going. He moved his best sniper in position.

Roll. Roll. Bang! And three Wyverns were down in less than a turn! He'd pay for it. There was no way he wouldn't. Worth it, considering he'd never scored this solid a blow on mom's army before turn five.

He looked up at mother and smiled.

"Took your wyverns."

He expected one of two things. Exaggerated rage to cover just how proud she was, or that little glint in her eyes that said he'd just fallen for something big. He didn't see either.

"Oh. You did."

"Which… means I scored, like, five points."

"I have more soldiers."

"But you lost those ones! So I'm winning."

"I have more soldiers. Why should I care I lost a few? I can replace them."

Morgan grimaced. Well, technically she could. But that meant going for the reinforcement rules, and lots of extra rolls, and a lot of victory points for him once they finished with the rule sheet and the associated cursing-so-hard-Sully-would-blush.

"I guess? But…"

And then his sister fell into the room with an arrow in her arms and the game was more or less over.

"Sis!"

"Hey Morgan."

She smiled. Her face was streaked with blood.

"Another great day out there!"

Mother swept the board aside.

"Have you killed her yet?"

"Nope. Turns out trying to outfight someone two years older than me with WAY more natural talent? It isn't easy! Managed to sweep up some of her retainers, though. So, we're making progress!"

"Then you failed. Get out of my sight."

"Love you too, mom. Uh, we do have a cleric somewhere, right?"

"Keep track of your own toys. Lick your wounds, and then take your… brother to remind him of his duties."

Morgan never quite knew what his duties were. Or what his sister did on the trips out of the castle. All he knew was that she got hurt a lot. Like when dad used to go out.

He didn't like thinking about it. Sis would be okay, of course. She was smart, nearly as smart as mom, and made sure she was always training. But she wasn't invincible. The blood on the carpet said that much. Morgan followed her to her room.

The room was the same as always. Floor covered with marked up maps, little toys mom bought them back in the good times across the shelves, half read tactical manuals everywhere. Uncle Frederick had always tried to get them to clean up, but he hadn't been in for a long time, and the room showed it. Dad could have tripped and fallen on anything! Maybe that's why mom didn't want him back.

His sister looked up from a slump.

"Hey kid brother!"

"I'm older than you are."

"By, like, five minutes. And if we're going by brains and experience, I am WAY older."

"UNFAIR! Mom lets you go out all the time and makes me stay in and the only thing I get to do is work with you on strategies!"

"Which, to be fair, you're pretty good at."

Morgan smiled. He was. He even got near beating mom today! Sure, it was only because mom hadn't been playing as well as usual, but that happened. It happened a lot lately. His mind flashed to a graph he and his sister had been working on. What was it? Grumpiness and tactical ability over time?

As grumpiness rose, tactical ability fell, both at a steady rate over the past few years. Morgan was proud of his findings. Mom had been… less proud.

He thought people being so mad they could breath fire was just an expression!

"Uh, Morgan?"

He snapped back to attention. His sister wanted him for something. Perfect. She wanted to get help. He wanted to be helpful. It fit!

"Yep! That's my name!"

"Your strategy worked pretty well today."

"Well, it was pretty easy. We have huge armies, and we're only up against, like, a dozen people at a time most of the time. Some of them might be pretty tough…"

He nodded at his sister's wounds, and smiled. Her cleric was already healing them up.

"But you're pretty tough too. We just have to keep pounding, and we'll win! Hooray for the good guys!"

His sister winced. Morgan looked back at the wound.

"Ouch. Guess they still haven't made healing magic that doesn't sting?"

"Something like that."

"Guess we have to work even harder to make sure you don't get hurt then."

Morgan smiled. She smiled back.

"Yeah. So, I've got some updated campaign books. I think I might have figured out what The Enemy is planning. Some of it, anyway."

"Something nefarious, no doubt. But the best tacticians in Ylisse can handle it. Hooray for the prince and princess!"

"...hooray."

"It's no fun if you don't shout it."

Morgan shook his head and went to work. It wasn't too bad with what he was given. The nefarious enemies of Ylisse had been grabbing parts of the Fire Emblem for the past few months. His brilliant strategies and his sister's shining blade had managed to make them pay at every turn, but they got away with them, and even slipped something away from Mt. Prism. Obviously they were up to no good, but how could anyone stop them? Well, Morgan would try. He might be one of the best, but it was tricky work.

Especially when his sister was looking down and muttering "gods. Gods! Godsgodsgodsgods." It really ruined his tactical concentration.

"Okay. Um, I don't know what you're seeing. But I think I have some plans that might help. You want to try to find a gap in them?"

His sister shook her head, then smiled. Her face looked sicker than usual.

"You know what, Morgan? I have a great idea!"

She sliced the cleric's head off with her axe.

"Let's go outside. Right now."

Morgan's eyes went wide.

"You just sliced someone's head off!"

After a second, he scratched his chin.

"Also, mom says I'm not supposed to go outside. Ever."

His sister's eyes were wide, and Morgan considered the situation again. He didn't think she was insane before, but she did just slice someone's head off with an axe. That wasn't the sort of person you argue with, normally. Even if you did, the argument would probably be about not removing your head instead of wasting everyone's time with comparatively minor details like what times you can go outside.

"But what mom doesn't know won't hurt her!"

"Exactly. So… we should make sure she doesn't know. But she does know. Because I told her. Because we're not going to get in trouble but we have to go right now."

Morgan nodded repeatedly and followed his sister through the halls. Every once in a while, she paused to hack one of the servants to bits, which didn't seem like sane and stable behavior, but it also seemed like a bad thing to bring up in a friendly chat. He'd assumed his sister was scary in a fight, after all Lucy had been too, and he'd never landed a hit on either in sparring, but the practical applications were much messier than he'd wanted to think about. Odd that none of the servants said anything. And that their blood was all… congealed. But Morgan never talked much with them, and maybe that was just what people said about noble and common blood being different. It made sense, with how much fuss everyone made about it.

They came to a tower, and his sister nodded to a hideous creature in a pen.

"Hey Vaida!"

The creature snarled. Morgan looked at its scars. Its fangs. Its eyes, which clearly said the creature wanted to eat him. His sister was smiling again, broader than ever.

"This is Morgan. He's going to ride with me, okay?"

Morgan gulped.

"It wants to eat me."

"Oh, she definitely does. But don't worry. I won't let her. And she's a good girl isn't she? Yes she is yes she is!"

Morgan gulped again.

"Yay for the nice murder monster."

"She's always been there for me. We can trust her."

Unstated: We can't trust anyone else. Morgan brushed past the implication, decided he didn't like it, and forgot about it before the words even left his sister's lips. It would just make him miserable, and it seemed like there was enough of that coming already.

He walked towards the snarling wyvern and buried his fears and doubts in his stomach with the butterflies. This was absurd. So absurd, it might be a dream!

"It's not a dream, Morgan."

"Oh."

Well. Maybe she guessed he thought it was a dream because it was a dream. Yes! That would be fine. It would mean he wasn't getting on the back of a terrifying wyvern and flying into the air over the castle. It meant the outside was just dangerous, not a terrifying burning hellscape. Which, wow. No wonder mom didn't want him to go out if it was like that. Yes. That would make sense, but this was clearly a dream. So it wasn't part of it. If it wasn't a dream, then how could his sister guess what he was thinking?

"Also, you're muttering everything you're thinking again."

"Oh."

Morgan looked down and sighed. It was not a good day. And looking down just made things worse. It was years since he saw the world outside the castle, but he remembered it being much… brighter. Also less on fire, more populated, more forested, and generally not a miserable burning wreck. He didn't know what mother thought, but if he had a vote in Ylisse's future as the only male heir to the throne, he'd push for something more in the old style. It had more bugs in it, too, and bugs were a sign of a healthy and thriving ecosystem.

Morgan looked up again. The world was terrifying. The wyvern was terrifying. His sister… just killed a hallway full of people, but had been in the not-terrifying camp for years of his life. He shouldn't let one bad incident sour a lifetime's worth of trust. Or at least, a lifetime's worth of being less terrified of his sister than he was of various hellbeasts.

"Um, sis?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do we have to go?"

"You wanted to see outside, didn't you? And I'm a good sister! So we're doing a fun family thing that mom was totally planning for years and it's good and fun."

"Then why isn't mom here?"

"...Since you had the game! That was bonding. Special, family style bonding. Which is why we're doing what we're doing without her."

Morgan tilted his head. It wasn't like he would ever DISTRUST his sister, and people had all sorts of reasons to hyperventilate and look around frantically. But the story didn't make much sense. Then again, the story usually didn't make much sense when Morgan talked to his sister, no matter the topic. And she said the same about him. That didn't matter, though. They were family.

"Um, Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"I might have lied to you. Once. Or twice."

"That's okay."

"Or a lot for years now."

"I burned down your favorite poster when I was playing with Owain and said Lucy did it."

Morgan smiled to cover. Well, on the downside, his sister might kill him. On the up, nothing she had to say would be half as bad.

"I killed Uncle Frederick."

Oh.

That was at LEAST half as bad. Morgan couldn't think of much worse, if he was being honest.

"At least it was an accident?"

His sister broke into a laugh halfway to a sob.

"Accident. People just keep tripping and falling on my axe! That's why mom keeps sending me out there. Hoping maybe I'll learn safe weapon handling."

"Mom wouldn't…"

"She does, Morgan! She killed dad and a bunch of other people. I thought she would have a reason, that we were still doing the right thing, but I can only keep my head so empty! I mean, I'm really good at it, but still."

"And you?"

"Killed a lot of people too. I… Mom was mad. I thought I could… I mean, I wasn't sure. But if I went out and helped her, maybe you could stay out of it. You helped me plan, but you didn't have to see…"

Something caught in her throat before she continued.

"I was...Lucy sent a bunch of people to help evacuate a village. Not even anything important. Mom thought… I think she still sort of trusts me. Trusted me. I do better than the Risen, better than she does. So I took Vaida and a bunch of Risen and we… killed people. They screamed a lot. I tried not to look. Mom had a reason. She had to! And then the knights came to slow us down, and I had to go to the front and make sure they…"

Morgan looked down again. It was the easier alternative.

"Mom had a reason. Mom had a reason."

"And then Uncle Frederick was at the front telling everyone to run. And he did really well! He took out most of my initial attack, and got to me. And dad was right. He was really, really good. I got a few hits in, he got… and then he knocked off my helmet."

"And then he surrendered and you talked and…"

"He just slumped. And he said… he begged."

"Nope. Uncle Frederick would never beg. You killed someone else."

"He did. He begged dad to forgive him for failing, because he couldn't… he couldn't attack one of his charges. And then he looked me in the eyes. And I…"

She wiped her eyes with her free hand and forced a smile.

"You can guess the rest. That's what I do. That's what mom wanted for you."

"She wouldn't do that."

"She was probably going to kill us soon. She's not… she's not mom anymore. And we're really in trouble."

"She wouldn't do that."

"Since, well, Lucy's probably going to try and do something really desperate, and when it works…"

"When?"

"Come on. She's our sister, and we haven't stopped her. You know nobody else could. Well, maybe mom. If she was still mom. When it works, mom's going to blame us. And we really don't want to be there to be blamed."

"I trust mom. It would be okay."

Morgan tried to sound like he believed it. It wasn't easy. It wasn't easy to believe anything right now. The world was insane. His sister was insane. And the one anchor he'd had was stuck at the bottom of the sea with its line cut. He couldn't even be sure about mom.

"No. It won't be. If it was just me, I'd… I'd trust mom too. But I'm not going to lose you, little brother."

Her hand slipped back and ruffled his hair. Morgan squirmed.

"Older."

"By, like, five…"

"I'm still your older brother. You could have told me. I could have done something."

"What?"

"Something. I'm… good at tactics."

Not much good at anything else. Not able to help his family stay together. Not good enough to know he was helping his sister murder his favorite uncle, the grumpy old knight who'd taught them both how to ride, who'd do anything for them. And even his sister thought he was a dumb kid who needed to be kept in the dark.

"Maybe better than I am. I know."

"And you can trust me."

"I thought I could trust a lot of people. And a lot of people thought they could trust mom. They thought they could trust me. Pretty funny!"

Morgan didn't have anything to say. A few seconds later, neither did his sister. They kept the state for the remainder of the flight. The burning cities fell away to mountains. The mountains fell to an old temple. And Vaida came down to the ground, snorting and bucking.

Morgan's sister jumped off her Wyvern and smiled.

"Good girl. Good girl. Now, don't eat Morgan… good girl!"

Morgan stumbled to the ground.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere old."

His sister was shivering. Morgan had never seen her this… out of sorts. Even with half a dozen arrows sticking out of her arm, she tried to keep a sunny disposition. Even when she'd been pouring out all the miserable lies she'd lived through for the past years, she'd managed a corner of a smile. Right now, she looked like the universe was a bad bargain, and life was a worse one. Even if it was true, it'd be uncharacteristic.

And with her here, it felt insane! Morgan shook his head. Sure, there was a nagging pull at the back of his brain that something was off here, but it was buried under waves of joy. The place might be a beaten up old ruin, but it smelled like the first day of spring. It was a long time since he felt this good. He turned to his sister and helped her to her feet.

"What's wrong?"

"Lots. Maybe everything. Um, Morg? If this goes..., I'm sorry."

"Goes? We're here already!"

Morgan smiled.

"I think I see the plan. We'll hide out here, just you and me. Lucy'll win the war, and then we'll meet back up with mom in prison and help her stop… being bad."

"Yeah. That wasn't the plan."

"Then you came up with a really good backup plan."

"No. I'm pretty sure I only got us killed faster. Look, when mom's armies follow us here… let me know if you want me to make it quick. Because she won't."

Morgan was silent. He tried to come up with something reassuring to say, or at least something to process the ideas in front of him. It didn't go very well.

It was a relief when the ghost of a dragon burst into the world in front of them.

"Children of Grima!"

It was less of a relief when his sister crashed to her knees in what looked to be a lot of pain, but it was still better than just… thinking about bad things. Morgan had never been much good at that. Or much of a fan. Thinking and depression were both firmly in the 'for other people' camp. Here, he could do something.

"Hey!"

Yelling at a glowing dragon was doing something, right? It worked when Nah was chewing on something, at least, before she went away.

... Went away seemed a lot more sinister in the current context, come to think of it.

Distraction! The important thing to focus was… being a distraction. Not being the thing that was distracted.

Morgan waved his hands at the creature. She tilted her head in response.

And his sister coughed from the ground.

"Hi Naga. Morgan, this is Naga. And she was the backup plan."

"We weren't supposed to mention the N-A-G-A word…"

"We weren't supposed to do a lot of things. Calling her by name is really low *ow* on the list of things we shouldn't be doing if we want mom to be happy with us."

Morgan turned back to the dragon.

"Hi Naga?"

The dragon looked past him and sighed.

"Child of Grima, you pursued my servants to their deaths. You slaughtered innocents and children, burned their homes. You even took arms against your own kin, the bloodline destined to protect the world from those who would harm it. And now you intrude into one of the last sanctuaries. You drained the world of all hope. Was that not enough? Do you share your mother's insatiable appetite?"

On the ground, Morgan's sister coughed and smiled.

"Past all rational hope."

"The same thing."

"Not really. Irrational hope is a family stock in trade! And I think the Exalt saved the best for last."

"And what hope could there be, with the Gemstones gone, my presence a fraction of what she needs, and Grima gaining in strength by the second?"

"Well, you could go back before Grima started stomping around. I mean, it's something I thought was impossible, but none of us have possible going well. So! I want in."

"And why should I trust a girl who betrayed everything?"

Morgan looked at his sister. She looked back at him.

"Not everything. Not yet. And you really could use my help with what's coming. Uh, Morgan? You might want to go a little further in. This is going to be long and boring, and you don't want to hear it."

Morgan nodded and wandered deeper in, past statues of heroes and dragons, murals of battles long gone, and countless doors to gods-only-knew-where. He was an obedient brother.

Then he doubled back to listen in. Obedient, maybe. But also forgetful and very, very curious. It was hard to pick anything up from their muffled talks without making it obvious he was listening in, but he picked up a few bits and pieces. The echoes ruled out even finding out who said what, but it wasn't the details that mattered. Just knowing something secret was enough. Dad taught him that. Then Lucy. And now, well, even if his remaining sister wanted to she'd be hard pressed to break the habit or make him forget the lesson.

"No. I'm… it wouldn't be worth it. Just send him."

"Of course, I understand the risks, but…"

"No. No, he shouldn't…*mumble mumble* memories *mumble mumble* guilt"

Morgan was lost before long. Even when he could believe what his sister told Naga in the first place, he couldn't understand it. Best to smile, nod, and go along with it. It worked so far, more or less. After a few more minutes, and a few more mumbled conversations mostly about high level strategy to the effect of "We are not doing well", he saw his sister walk out of the room to greet him. He straightened up and started looking very intently at a painting.

"Hey big brother. How much did you hear?"

"What? I was just admiring this… painting of… Anri. Bathing."

Morgan blushed. His sister snorted.

"Of course you were. So, the important thing was… I need to wait a bit. You know. To make sure everyone else can get here safely. You should go on without me."

"Sis…"

"Nope! No worrying! Naga said so. No sense worrying about me. You just run through the glowy portal at the end of the hall, and I'll be… right with you."

Morgan wasn't much good at spotting a lie. He didn't need to be.

"I'll… go then. You just come soon."

"Of course. Right away! I'll meet up with you and Lucy in no time. Happy family again!"

Morgan turned away and started walking.

"Even if… even if you did some bad things, you're still the best little sister I could have. I won't forget you."

His sister turned the other way and waited until he was gone. Then she sighed.

"You will."

After a second, she shrugged.

"But it's a nice thought."

(Author's notes: And we're back on track. Bare minimum, length is up, and I like to think the quality's better than last time. Character interactions tend to help with that, in my experience.

Anyway, on to the individual story notes

Severa: I know it's been said before, but Cordelia marrying the Avatar seems like it would amplify Severa's inferiority complex something fierce. A perfect mom and, say, Stahl for a dad, then Severa could safely dismiss perfection as an impossible standard, bond with her more 'normal' parent, and have a small buffer against her issues. Robin? Her parents would be perpetually discussing genius stuff, her sister would be obnoxiously likable, and in general she'd have no refuge against the nagging voice telling her she wasn't good enough. And if they were all gone, then she would lose the last connection to them as people rather than as abstract icons. What I'm getting at is that Severa's a jerk, sure. But she seems like she takes it out on herself at least as much as on everyone else.

Nothing like intense self loathing to make for entertainment, that's what I always say.

Yarne: Probably the weak link of the set, if I'm being honest. I liked some parts, and I think Frederick and Yarne make for a good father and son set, but Yarne can be pretty one note, and I don't think I did much to prevent that from becoming an issue. C'est la vie.

Morgan: This was the long one. Wanted to do something with both Morgans that didn't just go for the standard beats, and I like to think I managed it. The thing that stood out to me comparing the supports was how much, well, smarter Girl Morgan was. I mean, they're both airheaded optimists, but girl Morgan had a mind like quicksilver, and boy Morgan... didn't. Figured that could be a decent dynamic, and things kinda went on from there.

So, that's the set. Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading, etc. And hey, with this, there's at least one story in the set for every second generation character.)