A/N So much foundation to lay out. How bothersome that I never really got the formatting of the chapters the way I want it. Thanks for the support anyways. I don't own Fire Emblem or any of its parallel timeline versions.
Outside, a storm raged. Rain pattered on old cobblestones in need of repair, and the fresh body that lay on top of them. A redheaded woman gritted her teeth at the sight, but composed herself enough to send away the nearby children before they saw. Once they were gone, she unsheathed her sword and silently launched herself at the walking cadavers.
In the royal war room of Ylisstol, the reigning prince sat before a grand circle table. On the surface of it were maps of all sizes that detailed all aspects of the war against Plegia. Each map revealed something about the enemy or their allies-their positions, their numbers, and their battles strategies. Countless Ylisseans, Valmese, and Regna Feroxians sacrificed their lives for this information. All evidence of their effort were present in the numerous dotted lines, hashes, arrows, x's, and o's.
It was not enough.
Day by day the power of Grima grew stronger against the ever dwindling forces of Naga. In their conquest across Ylisse, the Grima's commanders and their Risen torched land and people alike. Famine was widespread for those who could not hold their ground against the initial waves, and after nearly two decades of unceasing assault, the realm was a realm only by name. All of this information… it was worthless without people to take advantage of it.
Groaning for the umpteenth time, Inigo slouched back into his chair. He ran a hand through his dark blue hair, simultaneously wiping the sweat from his forehead. Glancing back at the maps, he once more continued his inner musings.
'The outer wall is understaffed as it is, but maybe a few could be pulled off duty for a reconnaissance mission on one of the new Plegian forts…' he scratched his jaw thoughtfully at the idea before banishing it. 'No, the patrol guards are ill-suited for stealth jobs. Perhaps a frontal assault?' He examined the weaponry available and reviewed what he knew of the enemy's forces before dismissing that idea as well. It was almost certain defeat wherever Inigo turned. As it stood, the best option for his people was to hunker down in the capital and slowly starve it out against the hordes of Risen.
He slumped forward this time, throwing his arms across the table. "Ugh, it's useless…" he muttered. "All of it, everything… he's too strong and we don't have enough to combat it..."
"You're right. What are we going to do about it, oh fearless leader?" a voice asked bluntly, and though sarcasm was apparent, Inigo could still detect the undertones of care and worry. It was Severa. Despite being a warrior on the frontlines, she was always good at entering unnoticed, a trait most likely inherited.
Inigo forced a charming grin on his face before straightening to face his childhood friend. "Well if it isn't the lovely Severa. I must say, you do look rather ravishing today." A lie. She was dripping wet and sustained minor wounds. "Did you shine your breastplate?" the Ylissean prince said to his captain of the guard. She said nothing and simply crossed her arms over her breastplate-less chest. Her blank look eventually forced his smile to disappear tiredly and Inigo became serious once more.
He confessed, "It's bad, and getting worse each day-even more so recently with the sudden upsurge of Grima's forces around." He gestured to all of his work on the table. "I've run through every option I could think of, but all just leave us even more crippled than we already are. We can't spare the manpower or resources. At this point, our only option is to try to hold out until our allies send us whatever help we can, or disperse." Severa gravely nodded, her ginger pigtails bobbing slightly as she took in the finality of their situation. She walked over to her friend and sat down in the chair next to him. He didn't miss her stifled grunt at the effort of the movement.
"Inigo, I… you're right. On all accounts. The future is ruined and we can't do anything to stop Grima," she started. Inigo looked at her in surprise. The admission of defeat was a far cry from the relentless and believing Severa he had grown up with. Usually this was when she would talk him up, and they would put their minds together to come up with some strategy, some new way of living to produce a victory, no matter how small.
"I know, I know, stop staring you twat," she snapped, before resettling into her message. "I talked with Aunt Lissa, and even she agrees. But Inigo, she said that there's a way. A way out of this hellhole, a way to save everyone." At this, the blue-haired man's heart stopped. There was?
"She didn't tell us because she didn't want to worry us in case it didn't work, but…" Severa took a deep, shaky breath. "The Fire Emblem is ours. Well, it will be once Khan Raimi and Say'ri's forces arrive with the missing gemstones. Aunt Lissa says that we have to perform a ritual and that it will end Grima once and for all."
Inigo shook his head. "That's impossible," he breathed. "We can't perform the Awakening. We don't even have the real Falchion, just the parallel version." At this the prince clutched the sword handle that hung from his side.
Severa shook her head. Droplets from her hair hit the mess of battle plans. "And where do you think that parallel blade came from, huh? Don't you see? We're not going to perform the Awakening. Inigo, the only way to defeat Grima is to go back and stop him before he even comes back." Inigo stood up indignantly. "And what? Repeat the mistakes of the past? Naga, Severa, we would just complete the loop! Don't you remember who died that day in the fight on Grima's back? Everyone. And that. Includes. Us." He turned away angrily, eyes coming to a rest on the far family portrait on the wall.
It was an old portrait, from before he was born. In it stood Prince Chrom, standing regally with his wife, Princess Olivia almost a year after their marriage. Snuggled in pink-haired woman's arms was baby Lucina, their first child and Inigo's older sister. The infant could not have been more than a few weeks old, but already she was showing signs of her parentage. Her father's navy locks and strong jaw, her mother's slender nose and curving mouth. The Mark of Naga in her left eye.
They never made it past the initial hit. Grima made sure of that when he first tried to wipe out Naga's bloodline. Chrom and Olivia-both were slain in that fateful battle against Grima. Baby Lucina… no one ever saw her again after Grima razed half of Ylisstol to the ground.
Inigo quietly lifted a hand to the Mark in his right eye. A dark shadow seemed to envelope his demeanor then, and he murmured, "I can't go back and watch everyone die. That's what will happen if you and the others follow through with this ritual. Fate will make sure of that." He sighed, feeling all of the energy leave his body.
"The carriers are already making way with the gemstones. At this point, Say'ri is halfway across the ocean and Raimi's representatives should be here any day now. I have to go talk to the others-" Yarne, Gerome, Brady, Laurent, Noire, Cynthia, Nah, Kjelle, so many good, good people who don't deserve all of the hell they got "-about this, but I have a feeling I know what their answer will be. There's not much time left," Severa said into the silence. A scuffle resounded in the room as the female warrior evacuated her chair. Steps, fading away. They stopped. "Inigo?"
Inigo didn't turn. He couldn't. "Don't go. Please. I can't lose anyone else."
She ignored him. "You don't really believe the crap you just said. Deep down, you and I know that Aunt Lissa is right. We're not pawns of some scripted fate," Severa stated, quoting a phrase that the eldest of Naga's bloodline used often.
The door closed and Inigo was left with the ghosts of his past and possibility of a future.