Chapter 9: Visionary

Morgan sloshed through the waves and tried not to pitch face first into them. It wasn't easy with how he was yanked along with the foam, the ocean receding through the gate and back out to sea.

His eyes kept straining and clouding over, trying to see past strands of wet hair. The surf spray threatened to blind him, even as the tides pulled at him. The water grabbed at his robe and saturated his boots, taking his balance and replacing it with sodden weight. It made his struggle that much harder, as he tried to stand against the currents and turn back to the arena.

His thoughts screamed at him to fight the tides, to clear his eyes and find the others he'd fought alongside. To make sure they were safe.

But his thoughts grew muted against the roar of the sea. Warmth leached out of him along with his blood, staining the waters. His fingers tried to stop the last of his temperature from bleeding out. Red seeped between his fingers even as they clutched at the wound. He shivered, trying to move against the current and turn to the remaining fighters.

None of them had noticed him; all busy with tending their own wounded… or finishing with the last of the feral Mer.

'They have to be okay…'

Morgan didn't have any room to think much else, once his foot caught in a collection of broken tiles. The waves washed over him when he fell, snapping over his head in a crash of foam. The wound sliced into his back and ribs screamed, as saltwater bit into it. The world turned into a churning mess of froth and currents, throwing him hard into the floor. He thrashed against it, only for his side to slam into the rocks. His breath drove out in a pained gasp, turning to bubbles.

'I-!'

He couldn't drown yet, couldn't die yet. He thrashed and tried to find his feet-

Instead the waves settled in weights around his neck and limbs. His hands clawed uselessly at the foam, his feet kicking out and finding nothing to brace against. The currents gave another twist, driving needles into his wounds and yanking his head upright for an instant. He broke above the waters to get one last gasping breath. The mask fell from his face, drifting away on the tides like a small boat.

The waves yanked him out, into the open ocean. His blood fought between going cold or burning along the cuts, acting with the tides to rob him of his strength. The struggle against the sea turned into a losing battle.

Over the roar of waves, he heard a song drifting through the ocean. Wordless, but the melody echoed in his ears, weaving in a strange rhythm; something between a heartbeat, and the crash and sigh of the tide.

His mind pictured the black haired Mer, and how she'd fled from the fight; her song had been cut short, and in retaliation, the pull of the sea turned strong, drawing its denizens back into the fold.

'And taking me with it.'

Something flickered through the light, a mess of dark scales and hair. They shimmered for an instant, just out of reach from Morgan's sinking form. The mermaid had survived the fight, though seemed slowed by her wounds. The waters swirled around Morgan, threatening to steal his sight as the woman slipped away.

Over the roar of currents, he picked out words.

"…C-Can't be. It can't be her." He caught words, echoing through the churn of waves. "How was she-? What did they try to make me do-?"

'Who on earth is she talking about?' He had time to wonder… but no breath to ask. The Mer was easily outpacing him, tail thrashing the water in a panic. Too panicked to try and kill anyone.

And the song wasn't coming from her. There was something familiar to the voice, and for a moment his thoughts lurched to the boat on the harbor.

'Morgana? Is she singing-?' He couldn't find the outline of her ship, no matter how he turned. But there was something almost comforting to the notes; something the dulled the panic he should have felt.

Morgan watched the sea turn murky as he sank. The scant light flickered in and out with the rhythm of the waves. A stream of bubbles drifted towards the surface, his hand weakly trying to grab at them. The tide was intent on pulling him deeper, and making him tumble through the waters. Light and dark blurred together, churning into a dizzying gray.

'Am I still alive...?'

He should have drowned by now. Seawater should have filled his lungs. Instead, his heart was still beating, his sides rising and falling against the press of the water.

'How is that possible?' In answer, something fluttered at his neck. His pulse beat in time to the sensation, and his hands went up to his throat. Morgan winced at how sensitive the skin had gone. Bubbles brushed at his fingers when he drew his hand away. The spheres of air rose from his neck, weaving upwards.

'...Gills?'

A shape loomed out of the brackish water, swimming next to him. Morgan startled from the motion, and kicked out in panic-

His legs had somehow become bound, and moved as one. The motion, and bizarre sensation that followed, demanded his focus. His eyes darted to where he'd kicked.

What greeted his eyes weren't legs. They didn't feel like legs either. A single limb had taken their place, coming to a point before fanning out into a wide fine and catching the weak rays of light.

'Is that normal?'

There wasn't time to ask that out loud. Something scrapped at his arm, drawing blood in a thin stream. He grit his teeth against the pain and his eyes rolled about, searching for the source of the hurt. The current had swept him into a crag filled inlet, and the waters seemed all too eager to bash him against the rocks.

'Forget normal, just get away!' He screamed at himself, trying to kick out with his fins. He only got as far as 'try' however; his tail felt weak, pushing uselessly at the ocean.

"Don't panic, I've got you!" A flash of blue hair flooded his vision, and a pair of arms tightened around his waist. The stranger pulled him away from the current, battling with more power than he could manage. His fins brushed a jagged rock, the texture rough and scrapping at his new scales… but that was the extent of his contact. Whoever had their arms around him was a strong swimmer, clear by the strokes her sapphire tail made.

"Th…" he tried to say thanks, but exhaustion conspired against him. His last glimpse was of a girl, her blue hair outlined by the light above. It fanned out in long skeins around her like a halo. As she carried his limp body off towards calmer waters, and Morgan's last exhausted thought was wondering at her name.

-o-o-o-

He was floating. Chrom was aware of that much. He twisted about, trying to find some sort of balance. His hands touched cobblestones, and the contact snuffed out the sensation of drifting. Instead gravity asserted itself, as he pressed into the the floor. It took work to wrench himself upright.

"What...?" There wasn't an arena around him anymore. The cuts and bruises he'd taken were little more than an echo, faded away under the radiance of this new place. In place of imposing Feroxi stone and granite were pale buildings and blue skies. White stone columns and spires stretched upwards, delicately carved and reminiscent of clouds. The myriad towers, temples, and gold flecked domes diminished him, in numbers and scale. The buildings all rose together, layered like silver and white paint on a canvas. He stepped forward, feeling as though the ground underneath him was mist.

"A city-?" He murmured to himself. His words echoed off the walls, reverberating across the streets. Hills rose and fell around him, mingling with cliffs. And every inch of space was covered in stone, carved into designs that could rival a palace.

"I've never seen this place before..." He swore the stones of this strange place rang with his voice. It was after he finished speaking, that he realized the words were a lie. Chrom had seen this place once before; in a vision only a moment ago, when the waters flooded the arena.

Walking along the path, the mist parted before him-

Showing a familiar figure, her white hair drifting in a distant sea breeze.

"R-Robin!?" She jumped at her name, whirling around to stare at him. "What is this-?"

He spoke too loud. The hum of the stones turned to a roar, and Chrom spun about to find the source.

The buildings were swallowed by blue. A growing wall of water took their place and rose up, dwarfing the towers, and eating up the ground.

The wave plunged down, snuffing out light and sound in the same stroke. The buildings were swallowed up in a blink, some trying to stand against the torrent and others breaking apart. The proud designs turned to rubble or were scoured away by waves... but the deluge didn't take his life. It closed over him and sent him spinning, his arms and legs flailing clumsily as he tried to stay upright. Even that was in vain, as he lost track of what was up and down. His fingers clawed uselessly at the water, only to stop short when something gripped at his neck and arms.

His skin prickled from the touch, and he tried to swat at whatever ensnared him. Chrom stilled when his fingers found knuckles and hands wrapped around him. They clutched at him like iron, their nails like talons where they hooked into him. His fingers froze when they drifted, and ran over bumps along the skin, glossy and smooth. Almost like fish scales, with folds of skin running between the fingers.

Chrom tried to shout at them to let go, but another set of hands tightened on his neck. The fingers drew sharp lines along his throat, in rows of three.

The cuts drew a snarl from Chrom, and he writhed in the grip of the shadows. Air left his lips as bubbles in an angry shout, his arms yanking and pulling until one managed to break free. He lashed out, trying to make a fist. Instead his fingers splayed out with a mind of their own, curling into claws. He tore into one of the figures, drawing a wound in the path of his hand. Warm blood stained his skin, drawn from cuts his fingers had no right to make.

He didn't pause to consider the damage, instead struggling for the surface. His hand stretched up towards the ripples of light-

Light that danced across the scales flecking his hand and shone through the thin webbing between his fingers.

'Like those things you fought-' He surged up, finally breaking the surface. A new sight greeted him. The city was wiped clean. Instead a single tower rose above him, touching the clouds. At the pinnacle was a beacon, glowing blood red. His arm ached at the sight, giving a low pulse where the saltwater scoured at the open wound.

A ringing built in his ears, and he swore the ocean shuddered all around him. The spray turned cold where it bit at his skin, sapping his strength even as he fought against the waves. The world seemed to tremble from the noise, distorting before his eyes.

Beyond all that was a voice.

"Chrom," it murmured. "Come on! Open your eyes, please!" It begged him, and his surroundings wavered like a reflection on a pool, broken up by a single cast stone. "Chrom!"

"L-Lissa?" He murmured, his voice coming out with an odd hum to it. When he blinked, the sea and tower faded out, replaced by a massive stone ceiling overhead. Between him and it was a face framed by gold hair.

"Oh thank the gods-" Lissa choked out. "You collapsed right after you fought those... those THINGS that came in with the storm. You're still feverish to the touch but- at least you're awake. At least you're both going to be okay."

"Both-?" His voice cracked out, throat feeling oddly raw. A few stray drops of rain fell through the ruined ceiling. Small flashes of lightning revealed a web of hairline cracks, threading their way across the dome. The building itself had taken scars from the battle.

'That's right. We had to fight-" His brain finally caught up. "Where's Robin?" He wheezed out, raising his head up to look around the ruined, half submerged arena. The sea gate hung ajar, waves stirring a mix of dust and blood from the battle. The puddles stretched the width of the broken floor, and his legs were half submerged in the tides.

He tried to ignore the damage and focus on wrenching himself onto his side. His muscles felt stiff but still listened to him, and let him roll onto his knees with a splash. While he straightened up, his eyes were busy looking for Robin.

A soft noise reached his ears, a note of song crossed with a sleepy hum. It drew his attention, to where Robin rested a hand's breadth from him.

'Not as far as you feared.' He assured himself. He was haunted by his nightmare, more scared of it being truth and her being miles out of reach or lost completely, than being unnerved by any potential blood loss. "Robin..."

The hum in her breath cut out, and she stirred at his voice. Her eyes were hazy when they opened, before focusing on his face.

"What... what happened-? I thought I was swimming-?" Her words cut out as she looked around, taking in the same damage. "Ah, gods..." Robin rubbed at her head, wincing. "Did all of that really just happen?"

"I think so..." Chrom whispered, before Lissa cut him off with a tsking noise. She clucked her tongue again as she looked over them, checking to make sure they hadn't torn open any wounds. Chrom found himself checking as well, only to see faint scratches fading away courtesy of Lissa's stave… though she also wasn't ready to let him fully off the hook.

"NOW will you believe me when I say I saw one of the seafolk?" Lissa demanded.

"I-I can't argue with the evidence. It feels..." Like the world was coming apart at the seams. At least judging by the damage the arena had taken, and what they'd fought against.

"Well... You aren't bleeding out anymore at least." Lissa's palm touched his forehead. "And your fever is breaking too. You can repay me in chocolate later, and by trying not to get yourself killed next time."

Chrom glanced around, taking in more of the aftermath. Lon'qu had been pulled onto a pallet that was soaking around the edges. Maribelle leaned over him, putting the last touches on healing his wounds. The swordsman winced, his eyes screwed shut against the process and turned away from her face.

Nearby was the pink haired girl, speaking in hushed tones to Stahl and Sully. Frederick hovered over the group, their clothing all waterlogged. From time to time the dancer gestured between Chrom and-

"Flavia... and Basilio." Chrom groaned, trying to find his feet. The Khans stood nearby, speaking with Emmeryn. While she kept her voice low and faced the Khans, Emmeryn's eyes kept going back to Phila. Worry flashed over Emm's face when she took in the bits of red staining her silver hair. Like blood on Feroxi snow, Chrom found himself thinking. For her part, Phila ignored the red and pain, standing steady beside Emm.

At least Emm was safe. Seeing her standing tall, heedless of the rain and waves, put him at ease. He tried again to move closer to them, to make sure all was well. But it was like Robin's weak balance had traded places with his own; his legs shook under his weight, threatening to pitch him forward.

"Woah!" Robin's voice and Lissa's yelp reached his ears before a pair of hands found themselves at each of his shoulders. Lissa did most of the heavy lifting, Robin slumping against him more than anything.

"Milord?" Frederick turned at the splashes, drawing everyone's attention to Chrom.

"Up already, boy?" Came Basilio's voice. "You took your fair share of hits back there... both for your cause and..." He glanced about the ruins of the arena, and the new scars the building had picked up. "Whatever you call that."

"But... but what about the ritual combat-?" Chrom managed, wincing from the booming laugh Basilio let out.

"HA! Boy, you've got some spirit, but your priorities could use some fine tuning."

"What he means to say is, you've more than shown your strength." Flavia added. "We don't discriminate too much, whether it's displayed in ritual combat or in a sudden invasion... and we've just seen that there's forces moving beyond any of our control or ken. We can't afford to sit and watch, anymore than you can be idle."

Emmeryn nodded at that.

"In short, we've completed the first part of what we set out to do. Ferox has agreed to bolster our navy with theirs, in exchange for any information we discover on how to safeguard against the storms."

She gave Chrom a meaningful look at that, and he dipped his head.

"Right... one more reason to fulfill our quest, in that case."

-o-o-o-

Even with a fire burning in the hearth, and even with days gone by since the storm, Robin couldn't seem to chase the chill out of her bones. The waters of Ferox carried a cold bite to match their steel-gray colors, and their touch was determined to keep a shiver locked in her skin.

She was reluctant to leave her spot by the fire, even with a constant knocking on the door. The noise grew more insistent, but Robin was unconvinced about leaving her bit of warmth. At least until the hinges gave a groan in protest, and the door was nearly knocked out of its frame. Robin jumped to her feet at that, rushing over.

"Oops." Came a familiar, abashed voice from the other side. Robin opened the door to see Chrom examining the damage, with a guilty look on his face.

"Chrom? What are you doing here?" His eyes darted to hers, and he cleared his throat.

"Ah, the meal is starting in a candle mark. The Khans and Emmeryn both hope you'll be there, given you were a key part in the arena match. And in securing the alliance…" He ticked off the reasons on his fingers, looking between them and Robin. "…Plus keeping me from drowning."

"I think that was more on our mystery fighter." Robin pointed out, and wondered at the weight in her chest when she said that. Their sudden ally had vanished as quickly as he appeared, leaving behind only a few flecks of blood mingling with seafoam.

Chrom stopped worrying over the door, his concern transferring to the conversation.

"I… I hope he's alright." She found herself stepping from the door, and turning to glance out the window. The room in the Feroxi keep overlooked the bay, where moonlight shone silver on the water. Chrom stepped past the threshold and lingered at the glass, also looking out. "I know that's weird, since we only saw him for an instant, but… The fact was, he helped us. And got hurt in the process."

"Yeah. Maybe I could've…" Chrom paused and sighed, glancing to his hands. They flexed into fists, like they could reach back in time and snatch the boy back, if only he stared at them long enough.

"Hey… Don't hurt yourself stressing out about it." This time it was her turn to lay a hand across his, and keep him from gouging his palms with his nails.

"R-right. I still have a hard time believing that happened." He glanced to the chairs at the fire, and Robin motioned for him to sit in one. She took up the other, letting the heat wash over her. It was alright to dwell here for a moment longer, she assured herself; they still had time. And there was an unease clinging to Chrom, that she hoped a little conversation would dislodge.

"Sounds like a lot of the Ferox fighters feel the same." Chrom said. "Vaike's been swapping battle stories with them, but even he keeps giving the waters a cautious look."

"I… Don't know what to think," Robin admitted. She also didn't know what to make of the tension gnawing at her heart whenever she thought back to the Mer. There was something painful lingering in her chest and head, that discouraged her from dwelling on the past. "Beyond being glad everyone made it out alive."

Chrom gave an agreeing hum, at odds with the way his back tensed.

"Ah, about that…" He started to say, only to hesitate. Doubt creased across his face, and weighed down on his shoulders.

"What is it?" She prompted.

"Maybe it was just my eyes playing tricks on me-" Chrom kept them downcast. His brow furrowed as he thought back. "-but in the middle of the fight, I thought I saw something… Strange."

He hunched in his seat, and his feet shuffled against the floor.

"Stranger than legends turning real?" Robin tried to laugh but it sounded hollow and dry. Chrom didn't even try to feign amusement, instead leaning forward and focusing his attention to a spot on the floor.

"I-it has to do with that, certainly. The thing is, there was the leader of the Mer… I think she knew your name."

"Wh-what?" The chill in her blood had nothing to do with the Feroxi weather or waters, and the fire seemed to grow cold. Worse than that, the room seemed to lose its solidity. With how things spun around her, Robin half worried she'd slip back into that hallucination from the arena.

"I saw her mouth out a word, and I've said it often enough. My mouth is used to your name, and recognizing it -"

He stopped short, and the fires picked out a curious red staining his cheeks. He ducked his head, looking oddly startled. She'd expected suspicion or fear, something echoing Frederick's expression. Instead Chrom looked more reminiscent of a tomato.

The shiver lessened when she considered all that, and saw there wasn't a trace of mistrust on Chrom's face. Just a great deal of blushing.

"…Oh gods, that sounded more like something Virion would say. I-I didn't mean it like that! It's just that it looked like she recognized you." He rushed to speak, his words turning into a babble. "Maybe that's how you ended up in the sea, because they know you? Maybe there's something about you that they're afraid of-?"

'Like reading the tides?' Her throat tightened at the thought.

Chrom risked a glance at her, and stilled when he saw her face. She knew her eyes were stretched wide, and her confusion must have shone in them.

"If there is a connection…" Robin had to find a deep breath, and search for words. "I-I don't know what it is. I didn't recognize her, though I also didn't get a good look at her either; I was too busy fighting for my life."

She gazed at the coals, wishing they'd give her some sort of answer. Or at least push some warmth back into her skin.

"It's like I'm sailing through fog, and I just see vague shapes. But I don't understand any of it."

And it threatened to tear her skull open, if she tried to dwell on it. Pain and frustration both conspired against her, stinging at her eyes.

"M-maybe I just imagined it, with how hazy the battle was going. After all, how could a mermaid know you? Last time I checked, you don't have any gills. Or a tail, either." This time it was Chrom's turn to try a smile, oblivious to the ache building in the back of her head.

To stave it off, Robin touched her neck. Her lungs pulled in a deep breath, and beneath her fingers her throat worked the same as Chrom's. No flutter of gills greeted her, proof that she was human.

"Besides, I'd feel like a fool if I started acting like Frederick, and it turned out I'd just imagined the entire thing. Stranger things happened during that fight." Chrom said, standing up from his chair. She followed him, reminding her feet that there was no reason for them to shiver the way they did. "It was probably nothing; and if you don't know anything about it, then you don't know."

"…A-aren't you worried about that?" Robin asked. He paused at the doorway, glancing back to her. "That I don't know anything? Maybe your eyes didn't play tricks on you; maybe there IS some connection but I can't remember it-!"

Her eyes stung, tearing up in frustration. While she blinked them clear, Chrom spoke up.

"Y-you know… I've still got a lot to learn when it comes to swimming."

She blinked at that, wondering what it had to do with anything. She also blinked that the hand that found its way near her fingers.

"And how to be diplomatic, like Emm. I can't do a lot of things… But I'd like to think that what I can manage is enough for now. So I don't worry about the rest. Though I do worry about showing up to dinner on time." His smile was a little more convincing, the second time around. Chrom kept his hand held out, waiting to see if she'd take it.

'It's enough for now.' She forced herself to repeat his words, and give a nod. 'He trusts you.'

"Guess we shouldn't keep them waiting, in that case."

She bridged that gap and closed her hand around his, letting him guide her away from the chamber and all the worries in it.

-o-o-o-

It was a small farewell party, as expected given all the blows Ferox had weathered. The Khans put together a modest feast, held at their fort. Cooked lobsters and crabs with butter on the side graced the tables, and a handful of tools for cracking the shells to go around. Chrom settled for using his hands, once he saw Flavia and Basilio held no such restrictions at their table.

He smiled at the atmosphere of the dinner table; it was enough to help him forget about his worries, at least for the moment. When Robin was having trouble with her own meal. After watching her struggle over the shells for a minute or two, Chrom offered to help. As he broke shell after shell, Robin just as quickly scooped up the meal. She tucked into the sea fare eagerly once they worked out an approach. Across the table, Emmeryn ad Flavia discussed something in hushed tones. Their conversation was easily drowned out by the booming laughter of Basilio and Sully as they swapped stories, Lon'qu showing dismay at being stuck between the two.

'It's peaceful.' Even Phila was managing a few bites, and reminding Emmeryn to eat.

Maybe he could afford to ask another question, in such a relaxed atmosphere. Hopefully he wouldn't trip over his own tongue in the process.

"…Hey, Robin? Can I ask what you dreamed about?" Robin blinked up from her meal, surprised by his words. He continued. "In the arena, I mean. It's just that you passed out at around the same time as I did."

The fragments of that vision still haunted him; some nights they'd flickered up when he closed his eyes, and lurked at the back of his thoughts.

"And... I saw you. In my dream." That didn't sound awkward at all, his thoughts growled at him. Robin seemed equally shocked, with how her fork slipped from her fingers and dropped on her plate.

"...You too?" Then it was his turn to drop the bit of food he was working on, staring at her.

'You… saw me? I was a part of your dream?' He wasn't a fan of how that admission set his cheeks to burning. There was at least a small mercy that Robin was oblivious to his discomfort. She was more focused on her own dreams, and trying to describe them.

"I-I thought I saw you for a moment as well. And I heard you calling out my name."

Robin lowered her head, poking at some of the shell on her plate.

"I... I'm not sure what I saw after that; it all blurred together. But I think there were pale buildings, and drowning waves. And I was trying to swim through all of that, while something tried to pull me to the ocean floor. I think… I was trying to find you."

Chrom let his breath out slow.

"That's… Almost a match for me." Too much to be a coincidence. Given how much magic came with that storm, he was sure there had to be a deeper meaning to it. His fingers dug into the lobster shell, the sharp edges pricking his fingers as he tried to figure out what it was.

"There was a bit more." Robin added. "I just managed to swim to the surface in that dream, and saw a massive tower once I broke above the waves."

That got his fingers to release.

"That tower… did it have a light on it?" Chrom found himself asking. "Something scarlet?"

Robin pushed her plate away when she nodded, her focus entirely on trying to remember.

"If we both dreamed about that tower, it's not unreasonable to think there might be something important to it." She said, and stood her fork up in the remains of the red shells, pretending it was that same tower in miniature. "But… what it might be, I don't know-"

"…Well lad, you've got a knack for finding out about strange things, and poking your nose in it. Same with you, lass." A new voice made them both jump in their seats. Chrom turned, to see Basilio looking over them. An amused glint showed in his eye. "But then, we might need someone with a mind like that, if we're to find out the truth of what's going on."

"It seems you have a knack for listening in on conversations, too…" Robin pointed out, and that prompted a chuckle from Basilio. He took a long pull from his glass before continuing.

"But this time it might be a lucky thing for you, since I can give some answers. And maybe some warnings." He glanced at her makeshift tower… and then on a whim, plucked a shard of red from her plate and put it on top, mirroring what they'd seen in their dreams. "Aye, we know a thing or two about towers; have one just off our coast. The thing's been abandoned for a generation or more, so I can't tell you what you'd find in there. We only use it as a marker, to tell where we are."

"Abandoned? Why?" Robin tilted her head. "Wouldn't a fortification like that be useful as a watch tower, or a border station-?"

"Normally we'd agree with you." Flavia chimed in. "Save for one hitch in that plan; sailing to it is a death wish. The damn fool who built it decided that putting it in the middle of a nightmare passage was the best spot. It may keep the place isolated, but our records show more than a few ships have been lost trying to reach it. So we leave it alone."

"How far is from the main harbor?" Chrom found himself asking.

"About a day's worth of sailing." Flavia answered, while Basilio narrowed his eye. The humor in his gaze was well gone.

"Boy... I see that look in your eyes. And I'd advise that you leave it well enough alone. How can a lighthouse help you with what you seek?"

"I'm not entirely sure myself," Chrom admitted. "But if Robin has a hunch about this place, I'm willing to take my chances. Besides, with her help, we might be able to tackle those currents."

"...Aye." Robin meet his gaze, giving a decisive nod. "I think that maybe we can."