~ Chapter 1 ~
Morgan
It took a moment for the young rogue's words to sink in, but when they did, Owain gasped. "Morgan?" The pieces fell into place all at once, and though Morgan appeared to be far younger than she should have been, Owain realized then it was definitely her. The strange shockwave Morgan had thrown from her weapon suddenly made sense, too, for the ancient sword was none other than Alondite, once the sword of Tellius's legendary Black Knight.
"Hello, Owain," Morgan replied brightly.
"Do I even want to know why you're here in Valm, trying to extort Virion for piddling amounts of gold while disguised to look less than half your age?" Severa asked wearily.
"Half my age?" Morgan echoed, wearing a puzzled expression. "All I did was dye and tie back my hair. Oh, and put on an oversized cloak…"
Severa's expression became one of utmost horror as she realized her mistake. "You're that Morgan?" she shrieked hysterically.
"Oh, calm down, Sis," Morgan insisted. She weaved past Severa, who tried and failed to intercept her. "I can't stay here tonight. Why don't you two head back to the tavern? I'll catch up to you two in the morning," she suggested.
"No way!" Severa retorted, having no intention of letting her baby sister out of her sight.
Morgan sighed. "Suit yourself," she surrendered, before marching off towards the woods.
But Severa's patience had run out. She grabbed the younger girl from behind, spinning her around and only just resisting the urge to shake her up and down. "What's going on here, Morgan?" Severa asked again insistently.
Unintimidated, Morgan looked up at her oldest sister with a sly smile. "I'll answer your questions if you answer them first yourself," she offered. "What are you and Owain doing out here, in disguise and calling yourselves Selena and Odin? And why are you out here in Valm? Do you have any idea how long our sister spent searching for you two?"
Severa looked away guiltily. In hindsight, it seemed quite obvious that the older Morgan would have tried chasing after her missing sister and friend. "We… we had something that needed taking care of," Severa answered evasively, trying to hide her discomfort.
Morgan slipped free of her distracted sister's grasp, then rolled her eyes. "So, when you disappeared without a word to anyone, it's because you had to, but when I left after telling Mom and Dad exactly where I was headed, I owe you an explanation?" she asked sarcastically.
"Mom and Dad know you're out here?" Severa asked skeptically.
"Sort of," Morgan admitted.
"What exactly did you tell them?" Severa pressed, scowling suspiciously.
"That I was going on an adventure," Morgan shrugged.
Severa groaned. "You're thirteen, Morgan! They probably thought you meant you were going across town! Not to another continent!"
"I'm almost fourteen!" Morgan protested, though her expression then grew sheepish. "Though, I was actually only eleven when I left," she added.
"YOU'VE BEEN OUT HERE BY YOURSELF FOR THREE YEARS!?" Severa yelled. "ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MIND!?"
Morgan cringed. "Could you scream any louder? Sheesh," she complained. "And it's only been… two years and three months, I think."
Rendered speechless, Severa seemed to deflate, and could only stare at her youngest sister helplessly.
"Don't look at me like that," Morgan protested. "You did the same thing yourself!"
"I'm an adult. You are thirteen," Severa pointed out angrily.
"And when you were thirteen, you were living peacefully at home with Mom and Dad, right?" Morgan said, rolling her eyes again.
Severa stiffened. "When I was thirteen, my parents were dead, and I was training for a war that we couldn't hope to win," she reminded slowly, fighting to keep her voice steady. "And even then, I wasn't alone."
"I'm not alone, either," Morgan argued. As she spoke, she reached up and gently stroked the metallic butterfly resting on her shoulder. "Right, Ellie?"
The butterfly flapped its silvery jeweled wings lightly, as if to confirm Morgan's words, and Severa's face fell into her hands. "I mean real friends, Morgan! Not this strange toy of yours!"
For the first time, the playful spark disappeared from Morgan's dark eyes, and the younger girl seemed genuinely angry. The butterfly began beating its wings furiously, too. "Ellie isn't a toy," Morgan hissed. "She's my best friend, and she's sensitive, unlike someone I know. And if you don't want to talk nicely, you and Owain can head back to your warm and cozy tavern and leave us alone. You should probably do that anyways, for the baby's sake."
"Morgan, wait," Owain tried to interrupt.
But Morgan was already walking away. "If you're heading back to Ylisse, say hello to Mom and Dad for me, but if you're on your way to disappearing again, don't worry about it. I can visit them myself when I finish my work here," she called. She spoke cheerfully, but there was a strained edge to her voice.
"No, stop! Morgan!" Severa called.
But the younger girl didn't stop, or even slow, and only plunged straight into the nearby woodlands, disappearing into the thicket.
Severa looked helplessly to her husband. Unsure of what to say, Owain could only tighten the warm wrappings around Ophelia and nod reassuringly, promising that he and Ophelia would be fine.
"Morgan, please, I'm sorry," Severa pleaded, pushing blindly through the woods, for she could no longer see her sister at all through the rain. "I'm sorry for calling your friend a toy. Just stop running away, okay?"
Morgan's ensuing laugh echoed eerily between the tightly clustered trees. "If I was running, I would have used my warp powder long ago," she pointed out. "I'm just looking for a good place to set up camp… ah, this clearing should do."
A moment later, Severa and Owain burst the small clearing, too, to find Morgan kneeling beside a small satchel. The girl pulled out a large leather tarp and handed it to the silver butterfly, who promptly soared up and stretched it between the taller boughs of two nearby trees.
"Thanks, Ellie," Morgan said absently, fishing through the satchel and retrieving a drying cloth, a fresh set of clothing, and a familiar black, violet, and gold coat. Without warning, she began to undress.
"Morgan!" Severa exclaimed, mortified.
Morgan glanced at her sister, amused. "Anyone watching would think you're the one new to the road, Sis," she remarked. "Here, Owain. For you and the baby," she added, pulling out a second drying cloth from her bag, as well as a thick blanket.
"Thanks," Owain said gratefully, and he busied himself with changing Ophelia.
"You should dry off and change, too," Morgan told her sister. "Well, unless you'd rather catch a cold."
Severa sighed, but relented quickly, realizing that Morgan was right. Before long, the four of them were comfortably dry, and Morgan set to work pitching a pair of tents. Only then did Severa notice something odd. Either of the tents alone was larger than the small satchel Morgan carried, and there was no sign of the bag of gold Virion had given Morgan earlier, either. "Morgan, how does all of that fit in your bag?" she asked.
"Magic. How else?" Morgan shrugged.
Severa grimaced, coming to the realization that Morgan, despite her young age, was more than adequately prepared for the open road. Far from offering her any comfort, that thought only inspired more questions. "Look, Morgan," Severa began. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I'm just…"
"It's alright," Morgan interrupted calmly. "Just be nice to Ellie, okay? And if it makes you better, I've been visiting Ylisstol once a year for Mom's birthday. I would visit for Dad's birthday, too, but he…"
"Doesn't have one," Severa sighed. "And they're alright with you being on your own? With… Ellie?"
"Probably not," Morgan said brightly. "I haven't seen them. The first time, I just left a letter and a few gifts on my old bed. The second time, Dad set tripwires all over the house, so I left everything with Uncle Chrom instead. He was busy and didn't even realize it was me until I was gone."
"But you've spoken with Morgan, right? The older one, I mean," Severa guessed.
"You noticed my sword, huh?" Morgan reasoned. "Yeah, I spoke with Morgan before I left. She didn't think it was a good idea, either, but she insisted I take her old sword with me at least. One of her swords, anyways. I've visited her a few times since, too."
That came as a bit of a relief to Severa, but only a bit; if anything, the older Morgan had been just as whimsical and twice as reckless as the girl standing in front of Severa now. "So why are you out here, then? Were you just trying to help Virion without word getting back to Mom and Dad?" Severa asked.
Morgan gazed at her sister speculatively. "If I tell you, will you tell me where you and Owain have been? Really tell me, I mean," she asked, with the air of a child begging for stories.
Severa and Owain exchanged glances. "I… can't," Severa admitted. "It's a long story, and there's a lot of parts that I can't talk about, so it wouldn't make a whole lot of sense."
Morgan didn't seem impressed.
"Our home called to us," Owain spoke up softly, drawing Morgan's attention to him. "Our forsaken homeland, lost to us forever, remained in desolation. We swore an oath to help another, in exchange for his promise to restore the place we could never return to."
"Hmm… that someone must be pretty powerful, if you trusted him to deliver something you'd never see for yourselves," Morgan remarked, parsing through Owain's dramatic speech easily enough. "I guess he made you promise not to tell anyone about what you did for him?"
"Not really. That's because of something else," Severa admitted.
"Something to do with Duke Virion's son, maybe? Morgan guessed shrewdly.
Severa and Owain exchanged worried looks, and Morgan knew her words had struck a nerve. "When Morgan was searching for you two, she followed your trail through Ferox. She ran into one of Inigo's old friends there, who told her that he and Inigo had gotten into an argument, and that Inigo then left with you and Owain," Morgan explained. "No one's seen Inigo since then, either."
"Inigo was with us," Severa admitted. "But he's… he's not coming back." She looked to Owain and swallowed, unsure of what else to say.
"He's alive and well, and happy, too," Owain added quickly. "But he won't be returning to us." His words were uncharacteristically simple despite his somber tone.
"I see," Morgan said thoughtfully. "I guess that's why you didn't tell Duke Virion who you really were. But, you know, if you two return to Ylisse, the duke will hear of it. He'll ask about his missing son,
she pointed out.
"I know," Severa said tiredly. "I'm hoping I'll have a better idea of what to say to him by then." As she spoke, she thought of a letter tucked amidst the rest of her belongings. She knew she should have delivered it to the duke when she had the chance, but she simply wasn't ready for that inevitably difficult conversation. "So, what about you, Morgan?" she asked, changing the subject. "What were you doing in that town? Owain told me you were picking a fight with those drunks, and then suddenly you wound up with that old sword and axe."
"Oh, the drunks were completely separate. I've been staking out the town, and it bothered me how those brutes were bullying everyone else," Morgan explained offhandedly. "I just hope they've learned their lesson after making complete fools of themselves in front of their neighbors."
"You were stealing their money," Owain reminded accusingly.
"It wasn't really their money to begin with," Morgan said with an indifferent shrug. "I've seen them taking food from the old couple living at the edge of the town. I left some money at that old couple's doorstep before visiting the tavern earlier, with a note telling them to keep quiet about it. Actually, I think I left them more than I squeezed out of those brutes."
"A righteous and noble thief, then," Owain said approvingly.
"But still a thief," Severa scowled, evidently not sharing her husband's quixotic perspective. "So then what was that business with Virion?"
"That's a bit more complicated," Morgan began tentatively. "A little over a month ago, someone broke into Chon'sin Palace and stole Amatsu, the..."
"The sword that once belonged to Queen Say'ri's brother," Severa said impatiently. "But what does that have to do with you?"
"Emperor Walhart supposedly had a notable tactician of his own during the Valmese war. One of the lesser Valmese nobles claims to be the daughter of that tactician, and has been spreading these awful rumors. She's trying to convince everyone that Dad and Uncle Chrom came here as invaders, and that Queen Say'ri and Duke Virion were traitors," Morgan continued.
"Walhart's tactician?" Severa frowned, vaguely remembering the fat, toad-like man with an extraordinarily feminine voice. "I'm pretty sure he was a eunuch, Morgan."
"Who knows?" Morgan shrugged. "In any case, I found out that this noble was the one who hired mercenaries to break into Chon'sin Palace to steal Amatsu. I figured they'd try for Emperor Walhart's axe next, so I beat them to Castle Roseanne with warp powder and stole the axe first. Then I lured the mercenaries out, and invited the duke to come collect the weapons."
"And the gold?" Severa asked.
"Just something for my troubles. I wanted to go shopping tomorrow," Morgan said with a wink. She reached into her satchel again, retrieving a crusty and dry loaf of bread, and broke off a large chunk. "Hungry?"
"No thanks," Severa said, eyeing the bread distastefully. Morgan offered the lump of bread to Owain instead, who similarly turned it down.
"Does she eat solid food yet?" Morgan asked, gesturing towards Ophelia. "Sorry, but I don't really have anything soft enough for her to eat."
"She does, but don't worry. We already ate earlier," Severa said.
"What's her name?" Morgan asked curiously, through a mouthful of bread. "And how old is she?"
"Her name's Ophelia, and she just turned one," Severa replied, peering at her daughter, who appeared to have fallen asleep.
"She's beautiful. She's got Mom's hair, too. Are you two heading back to Ylisstol? I think Mom and Dad will be thrilled to learn they have another grandchild," Morgan mused, stowing the rest of her bedroll.
"Yeah, we are," Severa said absentmindedly. Then she finished processing the rest of Morgan's sentence. "Wait a moment. Another grandchild?"
Morgan only laughed as she climbed into her bedroll. "You two should count yourselves lucky. You already missed the season's last ship for Ylisse. If we hadn't run into each other, you'd be stuck waiting in Valm until spring. I don't have any extra warp powder with me right now, but we can pick some up for you tomorrow." With that said, the younger girl dozed off almost immediately, leaving Severa and Owain to wonder just how much else they had missed.
When Owain awoke the following morning, he found himself alone in his tent. Heart racing, he rushed outside to find Severa sitting motionlessly atop a large, flat boulder, cradling Ophelia gently in her arms.
"Sleep well?" Severa asked quietly.
"Well enough. Did Ophelia wake you?" Owain asked guiltily.
Severa shook her head slowly. "I couldn't sleep, so I when I felt Ophelia stirring, I brought her out here," she explained.
"Is Morgan awake yet?" Owain asked, nodding towards the smaller tent.
"She's down by the creek," Severa replied, freeing one hand so that she could gesture towards the south.
Owain peered curiously in the indicated direction, for he hadn't noticed a creek the night before. Sure enough, Morgan was standing about a hundred feet away by a small, rocky stream.
The younger girl had somehow removed the hair dye she had been wearing the night before, for her hair was now precisely the same shade of red as Severa's. Her eyes were obscured with a piece of black fabric, and she seemed to be training with a wooden training pole. The silver butterfly Morgan had called Ellie was with her, flying around in erratic loops.
"I wonder what the blindfold is for," Owain thought aloud.
"It's probably a training exercise she read about somewhere," Severa guessed quietly.
Taking note of Severa's listless tone, Owain turned and scrutinized his wife carefully.
"What is it?" Severa asked, when she noticed Owain staring.
"Is something wrong, Severa?" Owain asked gently.
"Of course not. I'm just a bit tired," Severa replied stubbornly, shaking her head.
Owain looked back towards the creek, mostly to hide his knowing smile. That would only make prying the truth from Severa harder, he knew. Besides, he already knew what – or rather, who – Severa was worried about. "I think Morgan's right. We're lucky that she happened to be here. Otherwise, we would have to spend the winter here. We don't really have a whole lot of money, either," Owain said, peeking slyly back at Severa as he spoke.
At Owain's words, Severa's jaw tightened, and strained expression spread slowly across her face. "Yeah. I guess we are," Severa conceded reluctantly, after a moment's thought.
"What's wrong, Severa?" Owain asked bluntly.
Severa sighed and leaned back slightly. "That obvious, huh?" she asked rhetorically.
"Kind of," Owain answered hesitantly, cringing when Severa gave him a sharp look.
Then, to Owain's immense relief, Severa smiled. "Thank you, Owain," she said quietly. She turned slightly to look down towards the creek.
"Are you still worried about her?" Owain guessed, following Severa's gaze.
"We can't just leave her here," Severa said. "She's just a kid."
"That's exactly what those drunks thought yesterday, and those bandits, too," Owain pointed out.
"They were idiots," Severa interjected.
"And Duke Virion," Owain went on smoothly, ignoring the interruption. "They all thought she was just a kid, and she played them as if they were pieces of a board game. Severa, this is Morgan we're talking about." Even as he said that last bit aloud, he regretted his words. That was precisely the heart of the matter, after all.
"You know Morgan, Owain," Severa said, and her tone seemed to grow desperate. "She's smarter than anyone I've ever known – even Dad! – but she still does dumb things all the time, too. And this Morgan isn't our Morgan. Our Morgan lived through three wars, even if she's forgotten one of them. This is my baby sister, Owain. She's known nothing but peace, and now she's playing games with bandits and mercenaries… even a political uprising, from the sounds of it."
"You don't know what things have been like in Ylisse," Owain reminded mildly, though in his heart, he knew Severa was right. When he followed Severa from Ylisse, it had been with the knowledge that Ylisse would be left in good hands.
"I can't just leave her here alone," Severa repeated insistently. "She calls it a friend, but her enchanted trinket won't keep her from making mistakes in her dealings with cutthroats. It can't keep her safe from mercenaries and assassins if she sticks her nose too deep into Valm's politics. It won't even keep her fed and sheltered if something goes awry with one of her plans and she ends up on the road without her supplies."
"You're right," Owain admitted. "But wouldn't your mom and dad have thought the same thing? Your dad must know this Morgan much better than we do, but he isn't here now, is he? If he couldn't keep up with her, even with all of his magic and with Uncle Chrom's help, what hope do we have?"
"Morgan could lose us both in a second with her warp powder, if she wanted to," Severa grimly agreed. "And she doesn't even have to, really. It's hard enough to travel with a baby. We can't take proper care of Ophelia on the open road."
"So what do we do, then?" Owain asked helplessly.
"I don't know. Why do you think I'm sitting here worrying?" Severa retorted wryly.
Unsure of what to say to that, Owain fell silent. As he watched Morgan continue her training exercise, Severa's doubts echoed through his mind, and had a sneaking suspicion that their journey home would prove far more eventful than they had expected.
An hour later, Morgan returned to the camp with beads of sweat dotting her forehead. "Good morning," she greeted brightly when she saw her sister and Owain waiting for her.
"Good morning," Severa said.
"Do you always train with a veil of darkness clouding your sight?" Owain asked, staring at the blindfold in Morgan's hands.
"Huh?" Morgan asked blankly. Then she looked down at her blindfold. "Oh, this. Not always. It's something I picked up recently from a book I read back in Chon'sin."
"A secret tome of ancient martial techniques?" Owain guessed hopefully.
"An old pirate's journal," Morgan corrected. "He said that a lot of pirates who wear eyepatches have perfectly good eyes. They wear an eyepatch to keep one eye in the dark. That way, when they board a ship and storm the cabin, they can switch the patch to their other eye instead of waiting for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Neat, huh?"
"Umm… how did you go from that to covering both of your eyes?" Severa asked worriedly.
"Well, it got me thinking. If you know that you'll soon have to fight in the dark, that technique helps, but what if you don't know? I'd have to wear the eyepatch all the time, and that would just be ridiculous," Morgan explained.
"Actually…" Owain began to interrupt.
"Yes, it would be ridiculous," Severa agreed quickly. She shot Owain an exasperated look, making it abundantly clear that he was not allowed to add an eyepatch to his regular attire.
"Which means that the only sensible choice left is to learn to fight blind," Morgan concluded happily.
Suddenly, Severa found herself a lot less concerned with her husband's ideas. "What!?" she exclaimed. "You can't fight blind!"
"Sure you can," Morgan insisted. "I met an old fisherman here in Valm who's been blind since before I was even born. He says he lost his eyes way back during the Valmese War. He could walk around, and fish, and even cook! He told me that when you can't see, you pay more attention to what you hear, feel, and smell, which tells you all you need to know about the world around you."
Severa and Owain exchanged worried looks. "Does it work?" Owain asked doubtfully.
"Umm… sort of," Morgan said, sounding unsure. "After about a week of practicing with a blindfold on, I managed to stop hitting myself with my own training pole, and I haven't tripped since… four days ago, I think."
The silver butterfly suddenly darted in front of Morgan, flapping enthusiastically.
"What's that, Ellie?" Morgan asked, frowning. Then, after a few seconds of watching the metallic butterfly's elegant dance, she blushed. "Yesterday doesn't count! I only tripped over my pole since it was wet and slipped out of my hands!"
Neither Morgan's words nor the fact that she was arguing with her mute companion did much to bolster Severa's confidence. Sensing his wife's growing distress, Owain spoke up quickly. "The road to perfection is paved with patience, discipline, and great effort," he said soothingly.
"What he said," Morgan agreed cheerily, before moving to and kneeling down by her satchel. "Anyways, I'll go fetch some warp powder for you three. Just wait for me here. I'll be back in half an hour, okay?"
Severa shot Owain an alarmed look. To her dismay, the blond only shrugged, unsure of what to say. "Uh… hang on, Morgan," Severa interrupted.
"Hmm?" Morgan asked, looking up.
"Owain and I aren't in that big of a hurry to get home. You said you were going shopping today, right? Would you mind if we came with you?" Severa invented wildly.
Morgan pursed her lips thoughtfully, and remained silent for several long moments. "I don't get it," she finally said.
"Huh?" Severa asked, feeling as though she had missed a loop in their conversation. "Don't get what?"
"You," Morgan stated flatly. "You aren't really interested in going shopping with me, are you?"
"Sure I am. I love shopping," Severa said defensively.
"But that's not what this is about," Morgan said knowingly. "You're still worried about me and Ellie being out here on our own."
Annoyed at being seen through so easily, Severa scowled. "Of course I am. We're family, remember?"
"So what? Seven years ago, that didn't even stop you from leaving us all without even saying goodbye," Morgan reminded.
Severa felt as if she had been slapped. She had spent years silently longing for her family and friends without even considering how they had felt about her quiet departure.
"I'm not mad, by the way," Morgan went on, looking pointedly away. "I never was. I remember being kind of upset for a while, since I was only six. I asked where you had gone, and Mom and Dad said you were going away for a while. They wouldn't tell me when you were coming back. But even then, I understood. I still remembered how you and Morgan both had to leave that one time, too. That's just the way it is, isn't it? Sometimes there's just things that need doing."
"Morgan, I never meant to be gone for so long," Severa began apologetically. "I just needed some time to myself. A few weeks, a month, maybe. Then one thing led to another and…" Her voice trailed off there, for she was unable to complete the thought aloud.
"Of course," Morgan said, smiling understandingly. "I didn't know how long my little journey would take me, either. I still don't know, honestly."
"Your journey to where?" Owain interrupted, remembering that Morgan hadn't really explained her current presence in Valm the night before.
Morgan began to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, she inclined her head slightly and placed one finger to her lips in a pensive pose.
"Is there something you're not telling us, Morgan?" Severa asked worriedly, when the silence dragged on. Then a terrible thought occurred to her. "Are you in trouble? Is there someone after you?"
Morgan laughed and shook her head. "No, no, it's nothing like that," she said reassuringly, though neither Severa nor Owain were reassured. "I was just thinking that it might be easier to show you than explain."
Severa instinctively looked down at Ophelia, who remained peacefully asleep.
"It'll be perfectly safe," Morgan promised. "We just have to swing by a tavern. We probably should, anyways, just to find something to eat. I don't really have any food with me fit for a baby." She looked back towards the nearby village. "I think those farmers from last night may recognize me even with my hair dye removed. Come on. There's a larger town about two miles east of here."
"Fine," Severa agreed readily, though she glanced at Owain to make sure he was comfortable with the idea.
Owain, realizing that Severa wouldn't be able to rest easily otherwise, nodded encouragingly.
"By the way," Morgan said. "Did you want to get the dye out of your hair, too, Sis? I still have plenty of the herbal goo that I use."
Severa briefly considered her hair, remembering how disappointed she had initially felt regarding the transformation. "It's not dyed," she admitted. "The person Owain and I were working for changed my hair with some sort of magic. It'd be nice to change it back, but I don't think a few herbs will be enough."
"Magical hair dye? Interesting…" Morgan mused. Then she shrugged. "Oh well. Let's get going," she declared, busying herself with collapsing the tents.
Though Morgan had claimed their destination to be a larger town, it looked much the same to Severa and Owain. Fields of crops surrounded the town, and a few small farmhouses dotted the outskirts. The more crowded town central seemed to be home to maybe a hundred residents at most, and a rickety, worn sign that may have once listed the town's name stood crookedly by the road.
"This is the town you were talking about?" Severa said, wrinkling her nose distastefully. "What are you looking for here, Morgan?"
"Breakfast, mostly," Morgan said. "Towns like this one always have plenty of fresh eggs. I may try to do some shopping, too, but I'm beginning to think I might have to head towards Plegia or Ferox instead."
"Shopping? Here?" Severa asked incredulously. "Five thousand gold is enough to buy half the goods in a town like this. Why not go to a big city or port or something?"
"I've already tried that," Morgan shrugged.
"Oh! You seek rare and highly magical substances brimming with unspeakable darkness, too ghastly for the markets of the pure and innocent to comprehend!" Owain guessed eagerly.
Morgan turned to him quizzically. "How'd you guess?" she asked, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.
"WHAT!?" Severa exclaimed in horror, as Owain's eyes widened in surprise.
"Just kidding," Morgan laughed. "It's nothing quite like that. Well, at least I don't think it is. We'll know soon enough… maybe." Ending on that cryptic note, she strolled up to the nearest tavern and stepped inside, leaving Severa and Owain with little choice but to follow.
As it was already late in the morning, the tavern was only scarcely populated. An elderly couple were seated in one corner, and three boisterous young merchants were seated in another with two large, lumpy sacks resting at the foot of their table. The tavern keeper – a rather plump middle-aged woman – eyed her latest guests curiously, taking note of their unusual attire.
Ignoring the tavern keeper's searching look, Morgan bounded up to the counter, smiling pleasantly. "Good morning! Breakfast for three, please?"
Before the tavern keeper could respond, Morgan dropped a small handful of gold coins on the counter, many times the price for three meals.
The tavern keeper's eyes lit up. "Certainly, miss," she said with a polite nod. She collected the gold quickly, but before she could retreat into the kitchen, Morgan spoke up again.
"And if you happen to see the Fireman, could you let him know I'd like a word with him?" Morgan asked sweetly. "Tell him Morgan wants to speak with him."
"Fireman?" the tavern keeper echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. Behind Morgan, Severa and Owain exchanged puzzled looks. "Sorry, lass. I ain't heard of no Fireman."
"Ah, well," Morgan said with an exaggerated sigh. "But if you do hear of him and come across him one day, you'll pass my message along, won't you? Thanks." With that, she stepped away from the counter, making her way to the nearest table.
Severa handed Ophelia over to Owain, then sat down in front of Morgan. She briefly looked around to ensure no one else was listening in. Once satisfied, she gave Morgan a hard stare. "What's going on here, Morgan?" she asked sternly. "Who is this Fireman that you're looking for?"
"Someone I've been trying to find," Morgan said, making a face. She then held out her hands towards Owain as he was pulling back a chair. "Hey, Owain, can I hold Ophelia for a bit? Please?" she begged.
"Don't change the subject!" Severa insisted, as Owain shot her a questioning look.
"I'm not!" Morgan protested, mustering the most innocent look she could manage. "I just want to hold her for a bit!"
Severa groaned, and nodded slightly at her husband. "Fine," she consented, and Owain passed the little girl over to Morgan. "Now stop avoiding all of my questions and tell me what you're really doing here, Morgan."
"Your mommy's in a bad mood today, isn't she?" Morgan cooed softly, and to Severa's consternation, Ophelia began giggling happily. "Before I left, Morgan told me about an old contact of hers," Morgan explained absently, without looking up. "This contact once offered to sell her some information, but she turned the offer down. Before he left, he told Morgan to stop by any tavern and ask for the Fireman if she changed her mind later."
Those words brought a hazy memory of a peculiar, grey-haired assassin to the front of Severa's mind. "You mean that man from Tellius?" she frowned, trying to remember her last encounter with the mysterious man.
"That's the one," Morgan said.
Owain's expression became one of shock and horror as he remembered the subject of conversation the last time the Fireman had approached them. "You want to ask him about Calamity," he whispered.
Severa winced as she, too, remembered the rest of the conversation Morgan was speaking of.
"Yep," Morgan confirmed, again without looking up. Before Severa or Owain could say anything else, the tavern keeper returned, setting down three trays of food. "Thanks, ma'am," Morgan said politely, before taking a spoonful of her eggs and offering it to Ophelia.
Severa made no move for her food. "Morgan, Calamity's gone. Ferox destroyed him. And besides, that assassin was asking for a ridiculous price, like a hundred thousand gold or something."
"Two hundred thousand," Morgan corrected. She paused just long enough to retrieve a small coin pouch from her sash and drop it on the table. Then she promptly returned to feeding her breakfast to the baby. "She's so quiet. And so cute," Morgan commented.
Severa stared at the pouch, then at Owain, who had paused with a piece of freshly baked bread halfway to his mouth.
"Two hundred thousand?" Owain sputtered, staring at the bag and wondering how a hoard greater than the treasuries of many smaller kingdoms could fit in such a small container. "You have two hundred thousand gold in there?"
"With a couple thousand to spare," Morgan said indifferently. "It took me a while to gather that much gold, especially since I ended up spending quite a bit along the way, but Duke Virion finally gave me the rest that I needed last night. The problem is, I can't seem to track down this mysterious Fireman. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe he meant any tavern on that continent, rather than any tavern anywhere…"
With a sigh, Severa began nibbling halfheartedly at her breakfast. "He probably did," she said. "Maybe it's time for you to go home, Morgan. You'll probably have better luck searching for him in the taverns near Castle Ylisse."
"Mm… I was thinking Ferox or Plegia, actually," Morgan replied.
Engrossed in their discussion, none of them had noticed another guest entering the tavern and approaching their table. At least, not until the grey-haired man abruptly seated himself beside Morgan. "You could also try staying in the same village for more than two hours at a time," the man suggested wryly. "Not everyone can casually move from one end of the continent to the other overnight."
Morgan looked up at last, and Severa and Owain both turned to the newcomer in surprise. All three of them had been rendered speechless.
The grey-haired man looked much as Severa and Owain remembered him. That, in itself, was strange, for their last encounter had been over eight years ago. Despite the passage of time, the assassin showed no signs of aging, and even his outfit was the same nondescript set of dark clothing from before.
"I heard you've been searching for me," the Fireman said, skipping any formalities or pleasantries. "What might I do for you, Morgan?"
Morgan beamed in anticipation, and she sat up, her expression suddenly one of rapt attention. "You're the Fireman? The one who offered to sell Exalt Chrom some information about eight years ago?"
"Perhaps," the Fireman replied noncommittally.
"This was back in Ylisse. Ylisstol had just been attacked by a dragon-like monster," Morgan urged. "The dragon was destroyed in Ferox, or so everyone thought. You indicated that you knew something more, but demanded a large sum of gold in return for the information. Remember?"
The Fireman smiled. "Perhaps," he said again, in an infuriatingly uncaring tone.
"Two hundred thousand gold, as you requested," Morgan said, nodding towards her coin pouch. "Tell me what you know, and it's all yours."
"Morgan, wait," Severa tried to interrupt. "I don't think this is…"
"Later," Morgan said dismissively, waving away her sister's protests. "Well? Do we have a deal?" she asked, rounding upon the assassin once more.
Interestingly enough, the Fireman hardly seemed to notice the pouch. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "That's quite a lot of gold, especially for someone as young as yourself," he remarked.
"And I earned it all, fair and square," Morgan pressed on. "Do we have a deal?"
The Fireman sighed. "No," he said softly, but firmly.
Morgan's eyes flashed angrily. "Why not?" she demanded.
"Because the information is of no value to you," the Fireman explained coolly. "I have no qualms about squeezing what gold I can from a prosperous kingdom's treasury, but I cannot rob a child, particularly one who has worked so very hard and honorably, to earn her wealth."
That took Morgan aback. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You've been following me," she accused.
"And you've been making it quite easy, inquiring about me in literally every town you've passed through," the Fireman replied in a deadpan tone. "I know what you're searching for, Morgan. You long for adventure, but I tell you now – and honestly – that the knowledge you've asked for holds no value for you."
"Let me be the judge of that," Morgan insisted.
"No," the Fireman repeated. "Not when I can offer you what you are truly searching for."
Morgan settled back in her seat, intrigued, and motioned the assassin to elaborate.
"Have you heard of the Vault of Many Ways?" the Fireman asked.
At that remark, Severa's lips grew thin, and Owain's eyes darted back and forth nervously.
"Once or twice. Why?" Morgan asked, ignoring her companions' reactions.
"It is an interesting place, a lightless labyrinth of countless winding tunnels that extend deep into the earth," the Fireman explained. "Within the tunnels await many gateways, pools of long-forgotten magic that can whisk someone from one end of the cavern to the other, lurking to misdirect visitors even further. Some scholars claim that these gateways serve another purpose, however. Some claim that a few of these gateways lead elsewhere in Valm, or to other continents… or even to other worlds. If you are interested, I have a map for you."
"No," Severa interrupted firmly.
"Sis!" Morgan protested, but this time, it was Severa who disregarded her sister's protests.
"Firstly, she's not paying you a single coin for your map. The Vault isn't far from the Mila Tree, and everyone knows where that is. Even if we did want a map for some reason, we can find one in just about any large city," Severa began. "And secondly..."
"You misconstrue me," the Fireman interrupted, holding up his hands in a disarming manner. "I am not offering you a map to the Vault itself. I am offering you a map to a particular gateway within Vault."
"Where does it lead?" Morgan prompted eagerly.
"This gateway is proof of the scholars' claims," the Fireman replied. "It will send you to a cursed world, whose inhabitants struggle on despite their harsh and unforgiving home. It is the perfect place for one such as yourself, who wishes to see a wholly different place with sights and troubles vastly different from your homeland. And of course, there is the curse to consider; perhaps this world can be freed from its curse, and its people granted a reprieve. Perhaps not. Five thousand gold and you can decide for yourself."
"Perhaps not?" Severa said scornfully. "Do you really think anyone's about to…"
"Done," Morgan interrupted softly. Carefully, so as to not upset Ophelia, she slid her coin pouch across the table.
The Fireman dropped a bound scroll on the table, then began fishing coins from the pouch in a blindingly efficient manner. Then, after collecting his fee, he straightened. "Best of luck to you," he offered, before turning and marching from the tavern.
"So, what do you two think?" Morgan asked. Surprisingly, she did not seem to be in much of a hurry, despite the air of triumph and excitement about her. She made no move for the scroll, and instead resumed gently feeding Ophelia, who had started fidgeting towards the end of the conversation.
"Adventure?" Severa said, echoing the one word the Fireman had said that stood out to her the most. "That's what this is all about?"
"Well, sure," Morgan replied, looking up. "Why not?"
"Morgan, the Vault is no playground waiting to alleviate your boredom," Owain said, now sounding every bit as concerned as Severa. "Other worlds may await you there, but at the cost of hearth and home."
"You lost me this time," Morgan admitted. "What are you talking about, Owain?"
"We know of the Vault," Severa replied darkly. "And yes, the magic there can take you to another world. That doesn't mean there'll be a way back."
Far from scaring Morgan, Severa's words only seemed to add to the younger girl's elation. "So that's where you two have been all this time," she whispered, her eyes shining excitedly.
"Morgan, are you even listening?" Severa moaned in exasperation. "If you follow this map and it leads to where that man promised, you might not make it back. Ever."
"You two made it back," Morgan argued.
"Because we…" Owain began, but before he could say anything else, Severa reached into her pockets and retrieved a small crystal.
"We only made it back because we had this," Severa said, placing the crystal on the table beside the map. "The person we were working for gave it to us and told us that we could use it to return home."
"But also that it could only be used once," Owain added.
"That's why we were gone for so long," Severa went on. "We couldn't come back until we were finished, and sometimes, we weren't even sure if we were going to make it back. There was no way for us to visit, or even send word of where we had gone to everyone we left behind. Do you have any idea what that's like, Morgan?"
"Nope, and I'm not about to find out," Morgan said calmly. "That man felt bad about ripping me off, Sis. I don't think he'd try to strand me in a world as terrible as he described. He admitted that he's been following me, so he must know that I have a way home. More than one, as a matter of fact."
Morgan rose and moved around the table, offering Ophelia back to her mother now that she no longer seemed hungry. Then, as soon as the baby was safely back in her mother's arms, Morgan scooped up Severa's crystal. "Maybe even another one, now," she added, inspecting the crystal thoughtfully as she wondered whether it could be somehow restored.
"You really trust him?" Severa challenged, sounding unimpressed.
"If I didn't, I wouldn't have gone to him for information in the first place," Morgan pointed out with a shrug.
"Why did you go to him?" Owain wondered. "Has the dragon been sighted again? Or has there been some sort of trouble in Ylisse that you think is related to it?"
"No," Morgan said, returning to her seat. "I just went to him since Ylisse was getting boring."
"Boring?" Severa echoed incredulously, but even as she spoke, she noticed a vaguely familiar shift in her sister's demeanor. For some reason, she felt as if Morgan wasn't being entirely honest.
"Sure. Nothing ever happens in Ylisse anymore," Morgan said flippantly. "All that's left to do at home is read and play around in Dad's workshop. That's why I persuaded the other Morgan to tell me more about the Fireman, and why I came out here."
Now Severa knew her sister was hiding something. The Morgan she remembered had always been particularly adept at keeping herself amused, and would never have ventured so far from home out of mere boredom. Not when there were books to be read and magical devices to be tinkered with, anyways.
"This world has many safer and more entertaining pursuits to offer," Owain, who shared none of his wife's suspicions, chided Morgan gently.
"Safe is boring," Morgan said, reseating herself and faking a yawn. "But if it'll make you two feel better, you can come to the Vault with me, and I'll show you how I'll return home later. Then there won't be anything left to worry about, right?"
Owain opened his mouth to say that yes, there would still be a great many things to worry about, but before he could make a sound, Severa spoke up.
"Sure," Severa agreed, and Owain turned to her, mouth agape.
"Great," Morgan said, finally turning her attention to her food. Despite the many questioning looks Owain shot Severa's way, the three of them finished their breakfasts without saying anything more.
When they left the tavern, Morgan immediately began leading the way back to the town's outskirts. Owain, seeing his chance, lagged bag and grabbed Severa's hand. "Severa, do you really mean to let her head off to another world on her own? Even with a way home?" he whispered, hoping to escape Morgan's notice.
"Of course not," Severa hissed back. "But we're not about to convince her to come home with us, either. She left for a reason, and not just because she was bored."
"She did? How do you know?" Owain asked.
"Because she's my sister," Severa answered simply.
"But you don't really know her. She was only six when we left," Owain reminded.
"I know her well enough," Severa insisted, irritated. "I'm not sure why she left or what she's planning, but at least this way, we might get to find out."
"And then what?" Owain prompted.
Severa didn't have an answer to that. Thankfully, she didn't need one, for Morgan turned around at that exact moment. "Are you two coming?" the younger girl called, managing to sound both playful and impatient at the same time.
"Sorry, Ophelia was fussing," Severa invented quickly. She then offered a second, silent apology to her oblivious child – who only smiled at her happily – then hurried to catch up to Morgan. "How far is the Mila Tree from here, anyways?" she asked. Despite her earlier claim, she didn't quite remember where the famous landmark was.
"Too far, at least on foot," Morgan replied. "But I'm not planning on walking." She held up her right hand, and Severa was surprised to see that Morgan was now wearing a small pearl ring.
With a crackling sound, a sphere of electric-blue energy appeared in front of Morgan. Owain gasped, and Severa instinctively took a step back.
"What is that?" Severa demanded.
Morgan's smile widened, but she did not answer.
The sphere gradually stretched outwards, forming an oblong disc. Then the center of it began to thin, and after a few minutes, only the border of the disc remained, a thick ring of some insubstantial material. It then resembled an oddly shaped window, but when Severa and Owain peered through it, instead of finding the same large expanses of farmland that surrounded them, they saw dense clusters of tropical looking trees.
"After you," Morgan said politely, gesturing towards the mysterious rift.