A/N: I apologize for the slow updates but please bear with me.

Just for clarity, Cynthia named her Pegasus Sumia.

Chapter 6: The Hero

Seven months before Lucina's arrival.

Cynthia strolled along the coastline, leading her trusted Pegasus by the reins. The sun was beginning to rise over the mountain tops to her left, painting the cloudless sky a beautiful array of orange and deep blue hues. She had arrived just a few moments ago, alone unfortunately, though she expected it. She was just happy some risen didn't follow her too.

She took a moment to admire the beauty of the sunrise, but then as her gaze shifted to the lands surrounding her, all she could do was give a hopeless stare at the emptiness about. A great ocean crashed against the sandy beaches of a dry and arid land that stretched for miles, encompassed by far off rocky hills and mountains.

"Ugh, why did it have to be Plegia?" she groaned aloud.

Though Lucina had told her it wasn't guaranteed they'd all arrive exactly in the same spot that they came from, or even together for that matter, she had at least hoped she could have arrived somewhere more...pleasant. This was after all hostile territory, not just in climate but in people as well. She only hoped that she could slip passed the border into Ylisse unnoticed.

Cynthia continued at a leisurely pace, just simply basking in the ambience. The air was still cool and crisp, with a gentle breeze that blew past her locks. She knew the weather was going to be quite overbearing once the sun was out, as such was for desert climates, so for now she would enjoy the coolness while it lasted.

Dawn gave way to morning, and Cynthia continued to walk, and walk, and walk. One hour of walking became two, two became three, yet she was no closer to finding civilization. Her feet ached underneath her, making every step unbearable to take. The dreadful sun made her sweat almost an entire ocean underneath her suffocating armour and if it wasn't for the fact that she was also starving half to death, she would press on, but she could take no more and finally found respite underneath the shade of large palm trees. There she sat with her pegasus, gasping for air and taking greedy sips from her waterskin, though it did little to drench her parched throat.

"Ugh, why did it have to be Plegia!?" she found herself saying again. She dug through her traveling pack and was disheartened when all she found was a few pieces of hardtack, her rations were worse than she'd thought. She took the first piece and grimaced as she slowly bit into it. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would be left without anything.

As she sat staring blankly off into the distance, something caught her eye; just over the ricky hill in front of her was black smoke rising high into the air. She scrambled to her feet and raced up the hill. As she climbed to the top she caught sight of a modest fishing village in the distance, where it seemed the smoke was coming from. Her eyes widened as she saw flames sprouting from the base of the smoke.

"A village burns! People are in peril!" she said aloud. Even though Plegians and Ylisseans were supposed to be hostile in these times, Cynthia didn't care for it. They were people, just like her, that just wanted to live a life of peace. She needed to help, it was her mission, her duty even, to save the lives of those in the past, no matter their origin. She hurried to her pegasus in full sprint, leaping onto her back and grabbing a firm hold of the reins.

"With haste, Sumia!" she commanded and her pegasus leapt into the air. The village came into view now and Cynthia could see a few houses in the small fishing town were alight, and its inhabitants were scrambling below from black shapes. She swooped down and her Pegasus' hooves dug into the sand. The Plegians gave her slight awestricken glances but didn't stop to stare as they seemed too busy running for their lives. And now that Cynthia was firmly on the ground, she could see what they were running from. Familiar shapes of men stumbling about in various states of decay, their glowing red eyes peering through their awful masks and black smoke spewing from their mouths.

"Risen!? In the past!?" she said aloud. She did not dwell on it long however, as the Risen had taken notice of her and rushed forward. She took a deep breath in, 'Alright, twenty Risen against one. Nothing that a hero can't handle!'

She steadied herself as the first one approached, its axe swung above its head but Cynthia's Pegasus lunged forward and she skewered the risen's head with her lance. Her Pegasus then rebounded back as the next then came but before it could even raise its weapon Cynthia slashed her lance across its neck.

She then commanded her Pegasus up into the air just as the other Risen got within reach. She arched around, the wings of her Pegasus gliding effortlessly through the air, and swooped down to drive her lance into the chest of another risen; her momentum dragged its dissolving body with her as she came back up into the air.

She continued this motion of flying high above their reach and swooping down to strike at them, luckily for her they were leaderless, and therefore uncoordinated in their attack. Then finally she killed the very last of the Risen and watched with satisfaction as it faded into a cloud of purple smoke, "Ha, too easy!" she said as she ran a hand through her blue hair.

As Cynthia dusted herself off she suddenly felt as if a hundred eyes were watching. She turned her head to see the villagers all standing in a big group, staring at her with awestruck faces. 'Alright, this is my time, I need to say something heroic!'

"Fear not, O people of Plegia!" she called out in her "Heroic" voice that she'd practiced so many times, "the Risen are defeated, and I have saved you from peril!" To added effect, her pegasus then reared up onto its hind legs as Cynthia waved her lance in the air. "Nice going, Sumia, that made me look really heroic!" she whispered to her pegasus.

She beamed at them, expected them to burst into a chorus of cheers and applause, but to her dismay all she received was blank stares. 'Aww, I blew it! I knew I should have thought of something before.'

But then one of the Plegians approached her, he stopped a few paces away, as he seemed to be wary of her Pegasus. He then began speaking in a strange language that Cynthia knew for certain was not Plegian, and then she was hit with the sudden realization that these people didn't very much look like Plegians at all really. Their style of clothing was different, and their skin was far darker than most when Plegians were known to have a light complexion. The man started speaking to her again, pointing to her and her pegasus, then pointing back behind him. But she hadn't a clue what he was trying to tell her.

"Um, you wouldn't happen to know the...common tongue, would you?" she said. The man's eyebrows drew together in confusion. He looked back to the group, which had since gotten larger. He then gestured for her to stay put as he then went back to the others, most likely to discuss about herself. After a short moment the man approached her again and motioned for her to follow.

Cynthia curled up under her blanket in the cold desert night. The small fire that burned in the hearth provided some warmth, but not quite enough apparently. Though she still preferred this over the blistering heat of the daytime sun. Luckily for her she did not have to do much while it was out, as the rest of the day proved to be quite uneventful. After she beat the Risen the villagers had offered her fresh fish, bread, and water, which she accepted gratefully, it was perhaps the best food she'd ever eaten. Then afterwards she simply sat in the shade of palm trees either tending to her Pegasus or doing nothing at all. There wasn't much to do anyways as the sun was far too relentless.

In any other circumstance she would have simply left as soon as she could, however these lands were foreign to her and asking the locals for directions seemed impossible since she couldn't understand a word they said, nor could they understand her. So for now she'd stay right where she is. The villagers themselves still regarded her with trepidation, though they were still hospitable enough.

So now she found herself in the humble abode of an elderly woman who graciously offered Cynthia accommodations in her small two room house. She lived alone, but she seemed more welcoming than the others, as she accepted Cynthia into her home with a warm smile on her face. She provided her with water, a bit more food before bed, sheets, and a mattress stuffed with palm leaves. Her Pegasus stood outside the house but Cynthia was able to keep a watch on her through a window on the far wall. She sighed contentedly, all seemed to be well and soon enough she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she was forcibly woken up by the old woman. She seemed to be in a panic, speaking in a frantic voice and pointing outside the door.

"What? Is it more risen?" she asked, uselessly she realized as the woman couldn't answer that question anyway. The woman then rushed outside leaving Cynthia alone to herself. But she wasted no time, she pulled on her boots, gloves, and then began strapping on her armour, albeit with some difficulty.

"Gah! I should have just slept in this darn thing!" she mused aloud. At last the final straps were in place and she was now ready for battle. She grabbed her lance and confidently marched out the door only to stop dead in her tracks once she saw what awaited her.

There were no risen. Instead there was a large company of men on horseback that surrounded the house. They were dressed in flowing scarlet robes with chainmail coats overtop and were armed to the teeth with bows, lances, and swords. Some carried banners of a black serpent upon a red field, dissimilar to any Grimleal standard that Plegians should've been flying. Above all else, they did not look friendly; their bearded faces watched her with grim expressions.

She swallowed hard, she could feel her very heart pounding in her ears as she gripped to lance tightly. There was no way she could take them all on, and she saw many archers in their ranks, so fleeing didn't seem likely either. The possibilities of what could happen next swirled through her mind. Were they going to execute her? Or perhaps take her captive?

The whinnying of her pegasus then drew her attention and Cynthia looked to see some men had grabbed it by the reins and were trying to pull her away. Cynthia immediately surged with anger.

"Hey! Stay away from her!" she roared as she rushed for them. A hard smack to the torso from the pommel of Cynthia's staff sent one staggering back and she twirled and smacked the other across his head. The soldiers drew back and unsheathed their scimitars, and the rest of the soldiers followed suit. Archers fitted their arrows to the string, horsemen readied their lances. Cynthia, now seeing just how many soldiers she was up against, felt her courage waning with every moment that passed.

Tensions ceased however as another rider came trotting in, followed in tow by some of the villagers. He shouted into the air and his men eased back; archers put away their arrows, and swordsmen sheathed their scimitars. The newcomer's garb seemed much more extravagant than the others; while they all wore scarlet and black he was adorned in gold and silver. The leader of them, no doubt.

The old woman, the man from yesterday, and some of the other villagers each spoke hurriedly to the leader, some gestured towards her as they did. The leader nodded along, but seemed to be getting more irritated as time went on. He raised an open hand to the air and all the voices stopped. Finally his attention was directly on her, and Cynthia felt herself shrink underneath his gaze.

"They say that you defeated a horde of demons single handedly yesterday," came his thickly accented voice.

Cynthia's eyebrows shot up, "Woah! You speak my language!" She said, surprised and somewhat relieved.

"I have spent many years of my life in Harondor, as both a warrior and an emissary to the men of Gondor."

She had no clue what he was talking about, but she was relieved to finally have someone she could communicate with. Though she wouldn't say this was the best person to fit that role. She would have preferred maybe someone more...welcoming.

"Now, is there merit to what the village people say of you?" he asked.

"Oh, the risen? That was nothing, a warm up really. I've faced way more than that and have come out victorious." she boasted.

"Indeed? And who are you, that can so easily slay demons that are stronger and faster than any man under the sun? By the dozens no less."

"My name is Cynthia," she said with newly found confidence, "And I'm a Pegasus knight that hails from the future!" She drove the end of her lance into the sand and stood with her free hand placed on her hip and chest puffed out, mimicking how a bold and fearless hero would stand in her mind.

The leader glared at her, "the future?" he scoffed. "Do not jest with me now, girl, it is unwise. I am Lord Khâzakil of Umbar, and you are a trespasser in our lands. I could have your head for that alone if I so wish, or perhaps take you as a thrall for the Black Tower. Or I can choose to show you mercy, but you must answer me truthfully. Is that plain to you?"

She gulped hard, her hand dropping to her side and her shoulders shrugged a bit forward. She wanted to protest, but she thought better of it, "It is, mi'lord."

"Good. Now speak truthfully of where you have come."

"The Halidom of Ylisse, mi'lord."

He was silent for a moment as he looked over at her. "I do not know of this land," he said, "Do you ally yourselves with the filth of Gondor?"

Cynthia's eyes widened and she could feel a great pit forming in her stomach. "Wha-I...huh?" was all she could stammer out. "How do you not know of Ylisse...it should be east of here…right?" she mumbled.

'You are wrong!" he said, "There are no lands eastwards with that name, and the people of those lands do not look anything like you do."

Her grip on her lance tightened as she wondered how it was possible for a Plegian Lord to not know of their greatest adversary, and then it finally dawned on her; this was not Plegia, and these were not Plegians. But then where exactly was she?

"I will ask once more, are you an ally to Gondor?" he asked sternly.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of Gondor, mi'lord…"

His stern eyes narrowed. "Impossible!" he said, "you must have at least passed it when you came here, and you speak their language!"

His reasoning was fair, she would admit, but she was just as confused as he was on this matter.

"It's because I come from…" she stopped for a moment to think. If this wasn't Plegia, and she knew that Valm didn't have a desert people, nor any realm called 'Gondor', then the only answer was that she'd somehow arrived on one of the other continents that were largely unexplored, but scholars knew of their existence nonetheless.

There of course was another possibility, one that she didn't really want to think about, but the likelihood of it being true grew steadily in her mind.

She looked towards the great sea that expanded far past the horizon. "I'm from lands out there," she finally said with her finger pointed at the ocean. Lord Khâzakil turned his gaze toward the ocean, his expression concealing of what he thought.

He turned back towards her, "there are lands out there?" he asked. Cynthia nodded.

"What kind of lands?" was his next question.

"Well, there's the continent of Ylisse, where I'm from. On it are three realms, The Halidom, my kinsmen. Then Plegia to the west, and Regna Ferox which spans the entire Northern half of the continent," she said.

"And these realms, are they inhabited by...Elves?" He spoke the last word with disgust and hatred.

Cynthia however was confused, "I don't think I know what elves are, mi'lord. Our lands are ruled by men."

"And how have you come to posses a flying horse? If not by some sorcery or dark art?"

"She's not a horse, she's a Pegasus," Cynthia corrected, "they are a common sight in our lands."

"Whatever name there is for that beast, its kind is not known to any in these lands." he said.

Now were her suspicions made clear, these were certainly not Plegians. The Plegian lords knew well of Ylisse's most fearsome auxiliaries. Their wyvern riders, though skilled in their own right, could do little to contend with the might of the Pegasus Knights. And noble heroes like Captain Philla were spoken of with great fear in the camps of Gangrel's men.

Khâzakil's eyebrows drew together, and he stroked his large black beard. He then looked back out towards the sea, appearing to be in deep thought. Finally his musings had ended and he eased a bit in his saddle. "I will accept this story, for now," he said and Cynthia flooded with relief.

"I have many questions for you, Cynthia of Ylisse, though I do not wish to discuss them under the heat of the sun. Ride with us back to our camp, and do not fear for your safety, for you are now under my protection. But if you flee," his face then grew serious as he leaned in to speak to her, "You will die. Do we have an accord?"

Cynthia nodded in understanding. She felt in that moment like her heart would burst from her chest from how fast it was beating. But she had little choice, it seemed; follow or die. Harsh rules for a harsh lord.

Khâzakil turned back to his people and gave a speech to them, likely a summary of their conversation as she saw their collective faces filled with wonder, and many of them looking out towards the sea.

She then noticed someone else in the crowd of horsemen that didn't seem to be paying attention to the leader. A man off to the side. He sat tall in his saddle, far taller than the others. He wore a coat of mail with a black tabard overtop, and upon it was the outline of a red eye sewn onto the front. A hood of mail covered his head and face, and upon his head sat a domed metal helm with two metal pieces in the shape of wings jutting out from either side. Nothing could be seen but his eyes that stalked her emotionlessly, and Cynthia felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

"Girl!" shouted the leader. Cynthia jumped a little at the sudden noise. "We ride at once, you will stay with me at the forefront, and keep on the ground." he said.

"Yes, mi'lord." she replied. She took a breath in and out silently to try and calm herself as the company moved. She mounted her Pegasus and started her forward towards the front of the column. She spared a look towards the village people, who watched her with blank expressions. Except for the old woman, who gave a sort of pitied smile and she waved slightly at her. Cynthia pursed her lips and waved back, and then finally rode off with the company far into the desert sands.