A/N I dislike fics that just take scenes from a game and put it into words. That being said, I'm a complete hypocrite. This chapter just wraps up the events from the previous chapter so I can move on to other stuff. Everyone: thanks for the support, and happy spring break. I don't own Fire Emblem or any of its alternate timeline forms.

"Milady, please remain within running distance of me, but stay hidden. Movement is limited here with my horse. There are too many to defend against in this forest, so I will draw them out to the edges. Heal me only when I can rush in front of you right after," he told the blonde princess sternly. To his relief, Lissa only nodded once, accepting his judgment completely with a determined purse of her lips. Good.

"Okay, I'm right behind you!" she chirped.

He mounted his stallion once more. Then, with a battle cry to draw attention, he rode out.

In his wake trailed several of the red-eyed humanoids and he felt small satisfaction of that fact. When he had reached a clearing, he turned upon his pursuers with lance in hand.

One, two, three of the abominations flanked him. Frederick quickly took stock of their weaponry and was secretly relieved that none of them carried any axes. While he was a well-trained knight—one of the best in Ylisse—he was not so foolhardy that he would pick a fight with too many disadvantages. He was besought on all sides by enemies, but that was all right with him. More of these monsters paying attention to him meant that his charges and that tactician would have that much of an easier time picking them off. The knight wore a single-minded look on his face as he eyed each one of his foes down. Then, without warning, he struck at one of the sword-wielders.

The sword knight knocked aside Frederick's weapon and went forward for an attack of its own. Thinking quickly, the Shepherd yanked the reins of the horse sideways at the last second. His mount reared to the left and the enemy stumbled in the dirt from its failed attack. Frederick glared at it.

"Now!" he grunted, and lunged. With a final sweep of his lance, he pierced through the foe's armor as if it were made of paper. For a moment, the crimson lights of the monster's eyes flickered, and then they vanished along with the rest of the body in a smoky cloud. Frederick frowned and brought his lance back to his side. It was time to pay the others the attention they were due.

As he fought, his motions remained precise and deliberate, but his mind went off on a tangent of its own.

These fights were what Frederick had diligently trained his whole life for, but this battle unsettled him. The enemies that had just fallen to him were unlike any other that he had ever fought or seen. From what he had seen of them underneath the armor, their skin was a pale sickly purple of all shades of darkness. They hadn't spoken, but the grunts of pain that escaped them were guttural and inhuman. What really disturbed the knight though were their eyes as they glowed a distinctive blood red, and the way that they… died. But perhaps death was too simple or too wrong of a term to describe how the enemies' bodies had gone up in purple smoke.

It was undoubtedly magic, but Frederick had never seen any magic such as this.

As the last of them fell to his lance, Frederick sighed and decided to think about it later with his liege, and perhaps the newest Shepherd. His chestnut-brown hair was falling into sweaty clumps in front of his eyes. He impatiently brushed them aside with an armored hand, but as he did so, he glimpsed something that turned his blood cold.

A flicker of yellow danced into his vision and he started. Lissa? he thought frantically. But you're supposed to be… He glanced behind him and saw nothing but the trees of the forest. Her iconic figure had disappeared just as quickly as it came. However, there was no denying what the knight knew he saw.

"Hiya!" He flicked the reins, riding speedily towards the river. Again, there was that same sunshine yellow against the green of the landscape, and it was sprinting further and further away from him. Behind the figure were two of the mysterious enemies giving chase, or at least running in the same direction.

Lissa was alone, unprotected, and decidedly incapable of defending herself against multiple enemies. If he were any less-experienced, if he had lacked any bit of his training, he would have tensed up in fear and worry. But Frederick wasn't, and with a hard set of his jaw, he galloped towards his female charge, hoping against all odds that he would make it in time.

Lissa ran as fast as she could through the woods.

Her heart beat painfully hard against her chest and her legs protested from the exertion. Meanwhile, low-hanging branches and high-reaching brush whipped her face, but she ignored the pain and forged onwards. To do anything else would mean certain death, she knew, as she glanced backwards at the running corpse behind her.

Were corpses even supposed to run that fast?

The worst happened. Her foot caught in a snag on the forest floor and the next thing the Ylissean princess knew, she was sailing through the air. She landed on her side and the side of her face smarted from the painful landing. "Oh, owie…" she groaned, rubbing her face and tasting blood on her bottom lip. "Oh no, my staff…"

Where was it, where was it… A patch of silver glinted invitingly from the dirt a way off and she flailed on the ground towards it.

Her pursuer took the opportunity to advance until it was nearly upon her. It moaned, reaching out a hand to grab her dress. In the dim forest lighting, Lissa could see the glowing red of its eyes, and the utter emotionless and inhuman quality that lay in them.

"Lissa!" she heard Chrom yell. His voice was strong and loud, but carried fear and lacked volume. Her eyes flicked towards her elder brother, taking in his small shape. Though Chrom was sprinting as fast as humanely possible, it was obvious that he was too far away. He wouldn't make it in time.

Lissa shrieked and held out her staff as a feeble defense. Expecting the worst, she closed her eyes. I'm sorry big bro.

Adriane had sensed the Risen's presence long before the cataclysm tore the ground in two. She'd grown up around them her entire life, after all. She knew when something was watching her, and the gazes of the dead was nothing like that of the living. The first that ran into had been an undead sage. With its lower jaw just about crumbling off its face, it had stared at her silently, intently, deliberately. Adriane had tried to approach it, but as soon as she had taken a step forward, the sage disappeared. At the end of the day, the Risen were composites of magic summoned from some dark void. There had to be someone around making them appear and disappear on command. Where there are Risen, there are Grimleal, and where there are Grimleal, there may have been a way back to Master Grima.

For the past hour, the young woman had been circling the woods trying to find the one responsible for the Risen. Her efforts proved futile, though not from lack of effort, and Adriane was convinced that whoever brought these Risen didn't know who she was, what her true colors were.

And then the gushing lava forced her deep into the forest, where she spied a pig-tailed girl trip on an outstretched root.

She barely made it.

Wham!

Fast as lightning, the axe swung down and collided with the flat of her blade. Adriane stumbled slightly from the brunt of the force, but just barely held her ground. It took all her willpower not to falter and just push the Risen away from this stupid, careless woman who surely had a death wish.

Lissa was very, very lucky.

It had been a split-second decision on Adriane's part to abandon her pursuit of the mystery summoner and save Lissa, but she was convinced that it this was the right choice. Without her there, the woman would have been dead long before Adriane could meet the older version of her in the future, and the blue-haired woman wasn't about to go about screwing with the timeline.

As much as she dearly wanted to, for all the trouble these people caused.

"Ngh," she grunted out, offering as much resistance against the Risen as she could muster. It was all she could do to keep her foe in place.

Lissa stared at her reluctant savior with wide eyes and trembled in fear—Adriane knew she could expect no aid from her end. She really is an idiot, Adriane thought venomously. From her left peripheral she spotted a flowing white cape. Another one? Probably just staring in shock like the one in front me. The axe-wielder pressed with even more force. Her knees threatened to buckle and her arms spoke mutiny in their trembling.

Swallowing her pride, Adriane flicked her head to the left and barked out, "Help!"

Facing him, she could see that it was a man whose navy hair color rivaled her own. At Adriane's plea, he seemed to have recovered his senses and nodded once. Sword drawn, the man rushed at the Risen unit with a mighty roar, distracting the enemy for just a moment. A moment was all she really needed.

Adriane gave one last final push to throw the red-eyed abomination off-balance. Then, with a half-spin to reposition herself, she brought the stolen sword into a downwards slash. Her weapon found purchase in the Risen's abdomen, going in and out with a satisfactory swish. One blow could not have felled a Risen of that caliber, but the undead dusted all the same. Confused, she looked through the mist and saw the navy-haired man with his sword in the same ending position.

Judging from the way this man had yelled out Lissa's name, he was probably with the woman and the knight. Well, at least he's not completely useless like that Frederick-knight of his is, Adriane privately admitted to herself. She sensed no more enemies nearby, so she straightened and sheathed her sword.

Now, with Lissa safe and the future preserved, Adriane allowed herself a moment to scout the field for any other enemies—other than the two that stood close to her, ignorant as they were of her true stance. Her recent actions could hardly give away her real hatred, but all the same Adriane prayed forgiveness from Grima for helping the enemy. He would understand, surely. Anything she would do was for the future they held, after all.

Her grey eyes continued to scan the horizon intently, but still she registered the stranger speaking.

"That was quite an entrance," he said gruffly, slightly out of breath. She ignored him and continued searching around, hand perpendicular to her forehead. A tree got in the way of a hill. She took a few steps to the right to change her vantage point.

There were no more Risen, and certainly no sign of the summoner, or anyone responsible for the presence of the Risen. Was there even a reason for their appearance? She saw none, nothing, and felt her hopes dashed. The Grimleal summoner was gone, and with that person went Adriane's hopes of a quick reunion with Master Grima.

She sighed heavily.

"What's your name?" That blasted man was talking again. Did he seriously expect her to answer him? She didn't have much time to waste on these Ylisseans, but maybe if she answered him, he would leave her alone. Telling the truth… might have negative consequences, but she'd been lying through her teeth for the past forty-eight hours, what was a little more? A name helpfully offered itself to her mind.

"Morgan," she responded curtly. The lie passed through her lips with just a little difficulty.

Adriane didn't deign to give this Chrom any more information, but studied him briefly. His strange, lopsided armor, his distinctive hair color-nothing about him ringed any bells. She'd never seen nor heard of this man in the future. As far as the young warrior was concerned, he was probably dead long before it would matter to her.

When her eyes finally met his, it seemed that he had observing her just as closely. Chrom's eyes carried an expression of realization that made her feel self-conscious. They studied her form and rested on her face and hair. They asked questions and demanded answers silently. Instead of a response, she just gave him an unconcerned look and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. Then, with purposeful steps, she walked away.

Soft fingers wrapped her wrist. "Hey! Wait!" called out a high-pitched voice. Lissa again.

The blue-haired woman halted, but did not turn around completely; Lissa took that as invitation to continue. The man named Chrom remained just as silent as Adriane herself, but she could nevertheless feel the intensity of his gaze upon her back. It only took her a moment to compose herself.

"Now what do you want?" she snapped, finally yanking her hand away and crossing her arms irately.

The healer looked at her, surprised at the reaction. Then, "I… I just wanted to say thanks, really," Lissa began shyly. "You didn't have to help there, and I wasn't expecting you to show up right then, but I'm really glad you did. Without you, Morgan, I would have gotten really hurt, or even died!" Gratitude was rushing out of the young princess, and there was nothing blocking the sincerity of her words, not even the false name in the message.

Adriane felt strange. Her chest felt tight, as if ropes were tied around it—not enough to hurt, but enough to mess up her breathing a mite. She experienced the same constriction in her throat. Maybe she was choking. Did she swallow something? She coughed awkwardly, but there was nothing there, and the sensation remained. The grey-eyed woman tried speaking, "I— "

Her words were drowned out by Lissa's grateful chatter. "So, before you go," the younger woman was saying, "Morgan, I want you to take this. As a sign of my gratitude. If we ever meet again, or if there's ever a chance for me to return the favor, use this. Here." A weak force tugged at her arm, urging her to turn around. She complied, but Adriane would not have done so if she hadn't felt so stunned.

A small, cloth object pressed into her palm. Upon closer inspection, Adriane realized it was a handkerchief. Silken, white, and soft to the touch, the handkerchief was embellished with a gold border and the initials 'L.Y.' on the bottom right corner. The 'L.' most likely stood for Lissa, but the 'Y.' was unfamiliar to her. Overall, the cloth accessory was girlish, and decidedly one of the prettiest things Adriane had ever seen in her life.

What does she hope to accomplish with this? Surely this Lissa can't expect her to just accept this thing, did she?

She's mocking me, Adriane decided, wanting an answer and grasping at straws for one. And even if she weren't, this must be some ploy to win over my trust. The blue-haired woman recalled how even the older, crazed version of Lissa had attempted to win her affections and loyalty. Her behavior then was similar to how it was now. Her lips thinned, and the corners of her mouth dug deep into a frown.

No, she thought, show a little more control.

"Thank you," Adriane responded stiffly, the confusion and habitual anger covered by a thin veil of conventional decorum. Her hand savagely bunched up the fabric and stuffed it into a vacant pocket. "But if fate is kind, we will never see each other again. From now on, we owe each other nothing. Do yourselves a favor and just forg— "

The crunching of leaves and muffling of voices from the right caught her attention. Where there Risen? Her eyes darted to the side and caught two dark shapes. They were too far away to see clearly, but Adriane thought she recognized the knight from earlier. The second figure was shorter and unfamiliar to her, and she had no desire to form any more ties with the present.

"Good, it looks like the two of them made it all right," Chrom remarked with obvious relief. Then his face clouded over with a serious and reprimanding expression, though it was not directed at either of the two women. "Come, Lissa, I need to speak with them. Gods, Frederick and you… you never should have been left alone for so long." He turned to Adriane.

"Morgan, you're welcome to join us if you have nothing to do right now. You seem to know quite a bit about these new enemies," Chrom offered, though his tone was just barely toeing the line between suspicion and openness. His words implied that she knew quite a bit more about the strange situation—unfounded, to be sure, but Adriane was sure she would be just as paranoid.

She shook her head. "No. I have an important mission to carry out and I can't waste any more time. Forget about me," Adriane repeated. She didn't know if she could afford any more interactions with these people. Even speaking with them was dangerous enough. And besides, every second she spent here was more time she could be hunting the other time-travelers before they succeeded in whatever plan they had to take down Master Grima. Not that she actually had much of a plan in the first place…

For what seemed like the thousandth time, Adriane wished that she could see him again, that he were here so that he could just tell her what to do. She would even have taken Teacher Morgan, at this rate, despite the inevitable punishment to her disobedience.

"If that's what you wish. Thank you for helping my sister. Farewell, and safe travels," the man replied evenly, taking the rejection smoothly. The voices had gotten louder; from the furious tone of one of the men and the equally incensed tone of the other, it was quite the heated argument. Chrom glanced at the two, sighed, and dipped his head.

Adriane gave them a stiff nod. She took a few steps backwards and away from them, just enough so that a copse of trees blocked most of their forms. When she was sure that they would not pursue her, she ran.

A/N I was this close to having Robin and Ad. finally meet. But… another idea came up that sounded kind of cool. Or maybe I'm just scared of what will happen when they do interact. Holy shit if this thing gets finished it's going to be so freaking long…