Chapter 6

Piece to be Played

Night

Castle Ylisse: Training Grounds

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The cries of wood against matted straw sounded through the training grounds as a wooden sword was tested against a wrapped training dummy.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The blows were swift, yet held technique; strong, yet precise; ferocious, yet oddly withheld.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Every blow held meaning, as if the man holding the training weapon was speaking through his actions rather than the words he wished to yell out loud. The pattern of silent venting had continued for more than an hour already, and the Prince of Ylisse didn't seem to have any plans on stopping despite his muscles screaming for rest.

Thump! Thump! Thump! CRACK!

Chrom was finally forced to stop his abuse of the training dummy unvoluntarily. Panting heavily, he looked down at his now broken training sword in actual confusion; as if genuinely not understanding how the wood could break under such force. Either way, the sudden implosion of his training weapon finally forced him to put an end to his 'training' session and sit down to rest. Sweat dripped down his forehead and heavy breaths escaped his mouth as Chrom stared up to the, admittedly, beautiful sight that was the night sky in musing over the last 32 hours.

Not 2 days ago, he'd almost lost half his friends along with his and Lissa's lives. It was not something he could so easily forget despite the reassurances he got from both Lissa and Frederick. The moment Robin tried blaming herself, but he put an end to his feelings before his friends. If not for Robin, they'd most likely been surrounded and killed in that fort. It was only due to her tactical mind that they lived to fight for as long as they did, and he would not have their newest member putting herself down when the fault lay on him, and him alone.

It was his weakness that almost got his Shepherds killed. It was his inability to protect his precious ones that nearly caused the death of his sister. Gods, he could only imagine Emmeryn's grief at even one of their deaths. He hadn't seen her cry since he was 6, and it was a sight he'd never wish to see again in either of their lifetimes. The very thought made anger surface in his blood.

He needed to be stronger.

The world beyond the castle walls has proven to be treacherous, and it was his job to adapt. Monstrous as his foes might have been, it was still his responsibility to make sure every Shepherd returned home, and yet he'd failed them all. For the first time in the many months since the Shepherds had formed, he'd failed; taking a heavy blow to his pride. If not for that blonde man and his daughter, Ylisse would have lost not only good people, but its prince and princess, and it would have all been because he was too weak.

It was the reason why he was currently training—why he continued swinging his sword despite the protest of his limbs—all to remember why he'd formed the Shepherds and traveled the Halidom. He simply wished to protect his people and those dear to him. That's all.

Emmeryn is a great sister and one of the greatest Exalts to ever rule Ylisse, but as much as he loved her, he understood more than anyone that she was not suited for war. A woman who abhors violence and, as much as he hated to admit it, could not make the necessary decisions in order to protect the Halidom. He knew this, Frederick knew this, even the council knew this (despite his better judgment of the old fools).

But that was why he formed the Shepherds. To defend the Halidom while his sister maintained peace. That was his goal as prince, and he'd be damned if he died and left that responsibility on the shoulders of his sister when she already had so much on her plate.

...But how exactly could he do so if he was still so weak? How could he protect them when he could barely protect himself? What was the point of wielding Naga's Fang if the wielder did not possess the same strength as its former predecessors? His father, despite how he loathed the man, was a man whose swordsmanship was rivaled by little. He could take an entire battalion on his own and still have the stamina and skill to fight another. Despite his reign, Matthias Lowell was a peerless swordsman and Chrom would not be so petty as to denounce the man's skills.

So what was stopping Chrom from being the same, if not better? Better yet, greater? What was holding him back from being the greatest swordsman in the Realm? The only thing holding him back now was himself, and he refused to let it continue any further.

Fueled by determination once more, the bluenette stood to his feet and marched over to the nearest training rack to grab another practice sword. He needed to be stronger. The only way to do that was to keep training and make sure what happened back in that forest never happened again. Wooden sword in hand, he stood before the battered training dummy and took his stance. He will get stronger. If not for himself, then to protect his people and the peace Emmeryn has fought for. Nothing would stop him from achieving that goal.

Before the prince could even swing, the sound of a horn rang clear throughout the castle grounds. There was but a moment of confusion before the bluenette's eyes widened at the importance of said horn.

Horror quickly followed.

Emm! Lissa!

The wooden sword was discarded, and Chrom was inside the castle in record time.

Castle Ylisse: Shepherd's Barracks

(20 minutes earlier)

Robin could feel sweat roll down her forehead. The tactical side of her was screaming that the best move would be to lean back into her assassin, causing them to both, hopefully, fall and build a spell fast enough in her hand to aim at his groin before escaping. However, the instictive side of her was screaming that the sudden move might very well be her last.

Instead, multiple questions popped into her head: mainly, how exactly did the voice behind her get past the guards stationed outside and into the barracks without raising the alarms? The only logical explanation would be that the one behind her had been waiting from the start. But that did not explain how he knew Lissa would pick this room specifically; or how he produced the knocking on her door... or even how he hid in a room with no closets.

"Back up slowly and shut the door."

She cursed inwardly. Being in close quarters with the possible assassin was tactical suicide for her. If things couldn't get any worse, her weapons were all currently stuffed inside her desk with a tome under her pillow, while her memory of unarmed combat never resurfaced along with the rest of her memories; meaning, she had none. Pegasus dung.

There were Shepherds who lived in the barracks as well, but she didn't know exactly how far they were from her position or if they could even get to her before the assassin ran her through.

She could send a weak thunder spell behind her, stunning him for but a moment. But there was the chance he'd notice the spell building before she could let it loose, along with the fact that his magical resistance was greater than her ability to pierce. She could take her chances and try disarming her attacker, but he was surely more experienced in close combat than she was. She could follow her early plan and throw her weight back into the man and grab her own weapons in the tussle, but the chances of survival were about a 10/90 chance of completing without the man simply holding his ground and slitting her throat... which, wasn't really a good idea when she really thought about it. She... she could scream, but there was still problem number one. W-worst case scenario, she could-

"If you make any move other than closing that door, your life is forfeit... but if I don't kill you, they will."

Robin's eyes widened marginally, not because of the threat but because there were now confirmed others. As if to mock her, there was a shimmer ahead, and four gray masked figures wearing all black with gray light armor were staring back at her. All at once, a finger came to the lips on their masks, followed by a motion of their thumbs running slowly across their necks.

"Do not test us, Ms Tactician."

Message received.

The tactician complied. Slowly, she reached out to the doorknob and felt the blade follow her as the door closed shut.

The moment they were alone, the tactician grunted in pain as her face was forced against the wooden construct along with her body; the blade previously at her throat was positioned somewhere she couldn't see behind her. She attempted to struggle but was halted by the pain of her arm being pulled higher. Cheek against the door, she was able to peek through squinted eyes to see her possible assassin.

From the angle, she couldn't see the body fully. However, a mask similar to the ones outside stared back at her, making the figure terrifying without even trying. Their hair was black and pulled in a ponytail, but other than that, she couldn't tell who exactly was currently keeping her at knife point.

"Was that, necessary?" She had to grit out, not a fan of the excessive force being administered. Instead of words, she was answered with more pain as she felt her shoulder about to pop out of place.

Thinking back to their new position, a plan appeared in her head. From the slight breeze, she could deduce that the window was still wide open. She still didn't know what level of resistance her assailant had, but she was sure a small spell from a tomeless mage would be enough for her to daze them for even a second. Jumping out the window, a quick wind spell should cushion the long fall, while a fire spell towards the stable should ignite and make enough embers to send the horses into a frenzy. Afterwards, would all be improvisation.

Plan set, she began gathering mana into her-

Her stomach sank. She tried once again to summon the magic within her to cast a spell, only for that horrifying realization to hit her once more.

Her mana channels weren't opening.

She couldn't claim to know a whole lot about mana seeing that magic came to her like muscle memory, yet she knew how it channeled, how it felt, and how it dispensed. When she called on her mana, she was supposed to feel it through her very borns. Magic was supposed to answer her call with the right manipulation even without a tome.

Yet it just... wouldn't. Or better yet, it would, but something was instantly absorbing it along with the mana.

And the sudden epiphany scared her stiff and broke any fighting spirit she had.

"...I'm going to ask you a couple of questions, and I want you to answer them honestly. If you are not answering the question, then you will not speak. Speak out of turn, and I will end you. Lie to me, and I will end you. Try to lead the question, and I will end you. I want straight answers and nothing else. Do I make myself clear?"

Robin winced through the pain once more to glare at the individual. That earned her a slam against the door and more pain to her captured limb. "Am. I. Clear?" Not seeing any way out of her situation other than a dislocated arm and a slit throat, the tactician complied with a nod. Slight relief came to her, but not enough to feel comfortable.

"What is your name?"

"...R-Robin."

"Last name."

"I... I don't know."

The tactician figured the short pause that followed was the person pondering if she was lying or not; spoiler, she wasn't. "What is your mother's maiden name?"

"I don't know."

"How do you not know the name of the woman who birthed you?"

The question made the tactician pause in confusion. Did... did this person seriously not know of her-

Pain*

"I asked you a question, Ms Tactician."

"I-I don't know! I s-suffer from amnesia, damnit!" The figure momentarily went lax, Robin noting it as a sign of, perhaps, bewilderment before their grip returned.

"How long has it been since you were diagnosed?"

"Less than 48 hours ago!"

"What did the doctors say was the cause?"

"I don't know! Lissa never told me what caused it!"

"Lissa? So it was the Shepherds that diagnosed you?"

"Y-yes!"

"..."

Silence reigned once more, but Robin couldn't exactly enjoy it seeing as she was still at knife point and the pain in her arm was beginning to become unbearable.

"Does the name 'Grima' mean anything to you?" Unlike her previous questions, there was a level of frost in the voice despite its distortion.

"No!"

"Don't lie to me!" The voice snapped. "Plegia, the Dragon's Table, The Grimleal, Grima! You mean to tell me you know nothing?!"

"What the hell do you want from me?! I'm an amnesiac! I've never heard the words till now!"

"Bull! Shit! You wear their colors even now! You even hold on to the cloak of a high priestess in the faith, yet you wish for me to believe you know nothing of the Grimleal! Of Grima?! Your act can only go so far!"

Robin lifted to her toes in response to her arm being raised higher. White lights of pain danced in her eyes and the pain from her arm stopped her from thinking.

"Everything I've said is the truth! Now let go, damn it! You're gonna break my arm!"

Sweet relief didn't come immediately. Her possible assassin held her in that same position for a good half a minute before finally releasing her. Immediately, the tactician reached to soothe her aching limb while turning to see her assailant.

The body of the individual didn't clearly point to them being a man or woman, making the distorted voice all the more illusive. Their shoulders weren't exactly broad, but their figure couldn't be described as feminine either. They wore baggy black pants along with a black sleeveless shirt, gloves, and socks. The only thing on the figure that was even remotely colorful was the white scarf around their neck, along with the equally white mask. All in all, regardless of their gender, they made for a very intimidating assassin; more so with the sword on their back and the strange knife still in their hand.

"Who are you?" The tactician decided to ask, seeing that the figure hadn't exactly moved since they'd released her. "Did, my previous self wrong you in some way? And, what is this 'Grimleal'? Was, I apart of them?" Robin didn't think she really wanted to know the answer to her question. She definitely still wished to know of her past and exactly who she was, but if this figure knew of her negatively, then she didn't think she really wanted to know the person she used to be anymore.

"...You are not the woman I thought you were." The distorted figure finally spoke once more. "You've spoken no lies, so I have no quarrel with you. If you truly have no memories of your past, then that is for the best." With no more fanfare, the figure turned and headed towards the window, stunning the albino for a moment.

"W-wait!" Robin eventually cried out, standing straight and glaring at the back of her attacker. "That's it? You threaten my life, almost break my damn arm, tell me nothing and then just leave? Like hell I'll just accept-"

The tip of a katana to her throat quickly changed her attitude. Despite looking right at them, she didn't even see the figure move, much less draw their blade. One moment they were walking away, the next they were in front of her, sword drawn. The aura they emitted wasn't visible, but it froze her up all the same.

It... it reminded her of that man back in the forest. The helplessness, the fear, danger, all combined to turn her body into a metaphorical statue.

"Make no mistake, Robin Basterbine, you are only alive because you are useful. Right now, you are but a shell. A shell that doesn't even realize the threat they are to man or herself. The only reason I have not run you through is because of the trouble it would needlessly cause."

"So, what?" Robin managed through her fear. "You're threatening me simply because I could do something? Something that I don't even know if I'm capable of doing? Aren't all human's born with the capability to do just as much good as they can evil?"

"That, is where you are wrong." There was a sharpness that appeared in the distorted voice, making their next words all the more pointed. "We may like to believe that we are all born equal, but the fact is, we are not. We humans all bleed the same color, but the blood we are born from can at times benefit or curse our very existence."

"Take Chrom, for example. He was born the same as us all, yet he is blessed with the blood of the Goddess Naga herself. He possesses the ability to wield a sword that only he can wield in the entire Realm and he has the right by birth to rule over the people of Ylisse. It has been that way for 15 generations before him and will most likely continue unless his lineage is wiped clean. What part of that exactly is 'equal' to you?"

Robin frowned at that. "That is not relevant to my question."

"On the contrary, it is. Chrom was born to uphold Naga's beliefs. His very blood and the fact he can wield Falchion is proof of his worthiness to lead mankind into a better future—something that neither his father, nor his grandfather before him was capable of, as proven further by the last Exalt's crusade."

"But then there's you," Robin was forced to edge her chin higher from the sword that inched closer into her skin. "You, an existence that stands above even the blood of Naga. An existence that threatens the very nature of man. No matter the descendant, your blood has always fallen to the dark, be it by your own will or by the will of your so called 'God'."

The sword pressed deeper, threatening to break skin.

"You, are an abomination. It doesn't matter how much good you do in your lifetime, eventually you will turn. It is the fate your kind share, and it is a fate I swore to put an end to."

"...Yet you won't even tell me what 'fate' I am destined to follow?" The silence she was given was answer enough. "Then may I at least ask why you are here if not to kill me?"

"And what makes you so sure that I'm not here to do just that?"

"Because if you were, I don't think we'd be speaking right now." Robin prayed that her point was a fact. If not, her brainstorming tactics all point to her eventual demise.

The sword eased away from her throat.

"I am here to warn you." The figure started. "Troubling times are on the horizon, and as much as I'd love to end the threat you pose, you play a major role in keeping the Shepherds safe. Continue as their tactician, and you will have no reason to fear me." The sword returned to rest on her cheek.

"But know this, Robin Basterbine." The figure walked closer till they were practically in the albino's face. "From now on, we will be watching you. From the time you wake up until the time you go to sleep, every move you make, every mistake, every wrong turn, we will be watching; judging. You will continue your life with the Shepherds and do your job as their tactician. But make no mistake, I am not your ally. I will watch over you, but I will not help you. We are not friends, nor do I even consider you human. You are merely a tool I am using to ensure the future that I envision. You will not be incapable because you can not afford to be. The lives of millions lie with the Shepherds, so you cannot afford to be lax in your duties."

"But when you slip, I will be there." The sword pushed further. "When the day comes that you forsake your humanity and fall into the dark, I will be there. And the moment that day comes," the sword pressed into her cheek and Robin winced as it punctured skin to draw blood, all the while a very familiar red aura flickered for but a moment around the figure. "I will end you."

The sound of a horn interrupted her threat. Her eyes barely drifted from their position on her threat, but the moment they did, the figure shimmered before disappearing all together; a few leaves behind. Robin snapped her head back and forward to find the threat before turning and opening her door.

The figures that were once there were no longer present. Even after activating her hidden ability to find the presences, all she could find was the opening of doors as Shepherds began rushing out of their rooms while throwing on various armor and equipment.

Instead of following suit, Robin felt her legs give beneath her as she began panting heavily.

That, that was terrifying. Even more terrifying than the creatures they'd fought in the woods. A monster, an actual monster, stood before her, and they could have ended her life as easily as inhaling a breath of air. Even with the small amount of power she felt she had, it was nothing. It was fucking nothing.

And it made it all the worse that she was 90% sure who was behind that mask.

Who, no, what, could stand up to that? Who in their right mind would stand in the way of such a demon? And why was it interested in her? What did she do to deserve this? Was losing a part of her not enough?

She... she needed a walk. Yes, a walk. There was an alarm, wasn't there not? Good enough reason to be out this late. Maybe talk to one of the Shepherds while she's at it. Perhaps Chrom, or even Lissa, could keep her company for the time being.

Anything to forget the danger she could still feel lingering on her shoulders.

Castle Ylisse: Exalt's Quarters

(10 minutes prior)

Emmeryn stopped halfway through undoing her robes. The sudden urge to soothe her head, as if fighting a migraine, plagued her-the Exalt instinctively understanding its meaning. It was the same urge that had saved her life on numerous occasions in the past and she didn't think it would alarm her after so many years if something wasn't terribly wrong.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, she allowed her hands to slowly fall to her sides. Her now hidden hands reached behind her and silently unbuckled the Fire Tome she always kept on her person. To think she was once adamant on not carrying such a tool. Phila definitely wouldn't hear the end of this once the word reached her ear.

Armed, the Exalt stood regally as it was time to address the problem in her room. "Please do not be alarmed, Your Grace."

But the problem spoke to her first. Mana now charged and ready to be tossed the moment a threat presented itself, the Exalt turned to scan what was supposed to be her empty room.

Slowly, a shadowy figure stepped from the darkness in the corner next to her bed and into the moonlight that lit half the figure's blue butterfly-like mask. The figure was half a head shorter than her and seemed to be wearing what she recognized as blue garbs similar to that of the Hero King Marth. A gold tiara held his hair in place much like the Hero King as well, and a sword sheathe with no sword (she noted) could be seen clearly at their side.

The mystery only grew once the figure finally spoke. It was, somewhat, masculine, but there was a forced vibrato on every word, as if the person was purposely putting bass on their vocals. "Good evening, Your Grace. Forgive me for intruding in your private quarters, but I bring grave news that needs your immediate attention."

The Exalt did not show any sign of emotion. "And this 'news' couldn't be delivered on more licit terms?"

The 'man' shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Your Grace. This information is for your ears and yours alone. Any other time brings risk of it getting into the wrong hands."

Suspicious didn't even begin to describe that sentence, the sudden furrow of her brows made that clear. "…And may I ask your identity, sir?" Emmeryn could only guess that the short lull in the conversation was the figure hesitating to give her a concise answer.

"...You may call me Marth."

The name actually made Emmeryn's eyes widen in slight surprise. "So you are the one my brother spoke of? If I'm not mistaken, you had a hand in saving Lissa's life, am I correct?" The figure nodded somewhat hesitantly, making a genuine smile replace the suspicion in seconds. Then, in what most would have thought foolish, she gave a brief bow to her late night intruder. "Then I must extend my thanks for your part in saving my sibling. They mean the world to me, and I am grateful you were there in both their times of need."

If the blonde could see in the dark, she would have seen the flush of embarrassment and pride that grew underneath the 'man's' mask.

"Th-there is no need to bow to me, Your Grace. I only did what was right." Emmeryn mentally shook her head. To think the one who had saved her darling Lissa was but a child. Truly, what was this world coming to? "A-anyways, I've come only to deliver my warning and be on my way. Nothing more."

The urgency had the Exalt serious once more.

"Of course. And where does this information come from, sir?"

Her question was not answered with words, but with action. The masked man walked closer and into the moonlight. His left hand, once cloaked in darkness, held what couldn't be mistaken for anything other than an envelope. Walking till he was only 3 meters away, the bluenette placed the package on the ground gently before slowly backing away till his back was almost touching the balcony window, the Exalt's eyes never leaving his form.

Although she was prepared to fire her spell at any moment, Emmeryn desperately hoped she wouldn't have to. From the moment he kneeled to place the envelope on the ground to the moment he stepped back to her balcony door, she was prepared to fire her spell and call for the guards, just like the protocol Phila had hammered into her head stated. The only problem she saw was whether she could do it fast enough and still live to call the guards into her quarters. The thoughts plagued her for so long that she hadn't even realized how much time had passed since the 'message' had been set on the ground.

"Would you prefer I turned while you retrieve the message, Your Grace."

"...That would be preferable." To her surprise, the figure did exactly so without giving it a second thought. She did not need to understand any aspect of Phila's 'Laws of Confrontation' to understand that him turning his back on her meant he felt she was no threat to him (which, oddly, stabbed at her pride).

She allowed a few seconds of silence to pass before slowly walking forward to retrieve the envelope. Eyes still where they mattered, the Exalt reached down and procured the item before backpedaling to her desk. Checking to make sure the man's back was still turned one last time, she allowed the hand that still held the stored mana to come up and unwrap the envelope and pull out the parchment within.

Inside was a single parchment with big, bold letters that were, surprisingly, in neat print. The message was extremely short and to the point, but the words made the Exalt's eyes widen substantially. She reread it many times just to make sure what she was reading could not be misconstrued before her brows furrowed and she lowered the parchment to stare at the back of her intruder.

"These, are very serious accusations. What evidence do you have to support these claims?"

The masked man was silent for far longer than the Exalt would have liked. It was as if the young 'man' was expecting her to simply take 'his' word, "N-none… currently! I, only have my word at the moment. I, can procure the necessary evidence, but... I have... within the time limit..."

Emmeryn shook her head before folding the parchment, "Sir Marth, I have gratitude to you for saving the lives of my siblings. For that alone, you have earned their trust and mine. But that does not mean I can simply take your words at face value when they involve the lives of others—especially when they concern the life of someone I consider dear to both my siblings and myself."

Marth's shoulders sagged at her words.

"I, understand, Your Grace. But, if I may, I ask that you at least be vigilant. Whether you believe me or not, I only wish for your-"

The sudden sound of an alarm horn caught both occupants by surprise. The banging on the Exalts door seconds later only increased the sudden tension.

"Your Grace! At the ready! Our mages have detected a breach!"

Emmeryn turned to the knocking at her door and realized her mistake all too late.

The moment she turned, there was a breeze that brushed her skin, followed by the creaking of woodwork. Shooting her eyes back to the figure, she was only able to get a glimpse of the young man's cape falling over the balcony before rushing to it. Looking over the balcony's edge (which was a good 30 feet drop), she saw a figure charge through the bushes in the palace courtyard while expertly dodging the knights rushing pass. Within only a few seconds, the masked figure had disappeared through the training grounds and, likely, back into the city of Ylisse.

The Exalt said nothing, looking out to where the young man had vanished—not even the sound of her door being forcefully opened shaking her from her stupor. The validity of the information she had received was questionable, even if it came from a source her brother trusted wholeheartedly.

The biggest problem lay with the accused. She had no grounds to suspect any of her council, let alone the man in question. Yes, most were prideful and tended to make decisions that would greatly benefit their positions rather than the people at large, but she never imagined any of them capable of treachery. Even the accused had been there for her since the days of her coronation. She couldn't even imagine him bringing harm to the Halidom he had a hand in putting back together, much less see him as a traitor.

And yet, she couldn't completely dismiss the case either. The council has been making suspicious moves as of late and has tended to keep her in the dark on matters of military and security. The only ground she could hold against the young man was the fact he was but a stranger to her—a stranger that saved the lives of her siblings, but a stranger none the less. The fact he'd broken into her castle did not exactly leave him in a very positive light... But...

Emmeryn looked down at the parchment once more-the letters written as clear as day. She would like to give people the benefit of the doubt, but if it were true...

"Your Grace!" Emmeryn turned her attention to the royal knight entering her quarters, looking relieved beyond belief. "Is, everything OK? I feared the worst when you failed to respond."

The Exalt shook her head in both reassurance and to rid herself of former thoughts, "Forgive me, Phila. I, was simply lost in thought." For what she believed to be the first time, the knight did not seem to believe her. That did not, however, stop her from ordering the knights to sweep her room, which she allowed. Finding nothing, the knights were given separate orders and sent on their way, while Phila kept her company till the alarm ceased. Chrom and Lissa both dropped by not long after. Phila was the last to leave, and Emmeryn was finally able to have her thoughts to herself once more.

Reaching into her robes, she pulled out the parchment and reread it one more time. She'd like to believe she knew her own people. They've helped her through worse, and she could not see them as anything other than loyal… But if these claims are true…

Emmeryn quickly moved to her desk and hid the envelope in her dresser under other important documents. She made a note to gather the council once more in the morning and make adjustments to their earlier plans. Pieces would have to move, and she'd now have to take a more 'direct' approach to their upcoming diplomatic issues.

Ylisse: North Inn

(45 Minutes Later)

Lucina made sure to close the door behind her without making so much as a click; the snores she could hear coming from the bed in the far corner of the room were a sign her caution was rewarded. Continuing the walk, she slowly began undressing, starting from her shoes to her cape. She feared one of the blondes waking up at any moment (especially when one of her belts clattered to the woodwork and rang through the room) but thanked the Gods when neither even shifted in their sleep. The mask was the last thing to be removed, letting her long blue locks fall freely as she placed it down where her now folded clothes lay.

Now only in her full body tights, she tiptoed over to the bed next to her companions and slid underneath the sheets. Only when she was turned away from the bed her companions peacefully slept in did she fully allow herself to sigh in relief. Tonight may not have gone exactly how she would have liked, but the guilt of doing nothing no longer hung over her shoulders. She had given her aunt the information that was needed. How she used that information could greatly help or, worryingly, hurt the future. She closed her eyes, putting worrying thoughts at the back of her mind as she attempted to let sleep claim her.

Only time would tell if her efforts were fruitful or not.

Omake: Training Lessons #1

Chakra Control/Manipulation (Tree Hopping)

One of the first lessons in training one's chakra is manipulation/control.

Everyone and everything has Mana. Mana is the lifeblood that breathes color into every living creation. It is what keeps plants green even when they have not had water in days, it is what gives animals the extra edge on prey to intimidate and freeze them long enough for them to get their well deserved kill, it is the weapon that humans use to bend the elements into their own vision, and it is the source that keeps the world breathing for many more generations to inhabit it in the future. All in all, it is the dominant source in the Realms that keeps the world stable and allows the Realm's inhabitants to keep living the way they wish.

Saying that, no species on the planet benefits more from mana than humans. The versatility with which humans have exploited mana spans all the way back to the age of Naga, known as the age of the beginning. Everything from starting a fire to cleaning oneself with a shower head has involved mana to some extent. Those who do not use mana can live just as peacefully as any other human being, but would be at a severe disadvantage to the latter. This could be proven in both everyday life and on the battlefield. Yes, you could work hard to surpass the advantages that mana users naturally obtain, but why stab yourself in the foot when there is a significantly better option? If you know your enemies are going into battle with a canon, do you bring a dagger simply because it is inexpensive? No? Then why limit yourself? Why put yourself at a clear disadvantage when you have the same opportunity as everyone else? Why be limited when you can be infinite?

This was the philosophy Lucina grew up reading. Mana was a source she'd trained herself in simply to be efficient in any situation she and her comrades found themselves in. Though her father never thought the same way, her mother was known for being somewhat of a perfectionist, and she'd gotten just as far due to her versatile skillset. She wouldn't say she was the best fighter in her group of friends or in her future, but it was this same versatility that made her more than valuable in operations.

With that being said, she thought she was more than prepared for the 'training' her new teacher was to introduce her to. Though chakra and mana were named differently, both were actually the same terms; the big, and only, difference being how they were used in execution.

Lucina, thankfully, was already efficient in the art. The smugness she exuded when the training exercise was revealed could be seen clearly on her face. She had overestimated how proficient she was in swordsmanship, but she was sure she could redeem herself in this particular field seeing that she was positive he could not negatively critique her in this.

She was wrong.

Turns out, forcing mana to perform skills that were not of her Realm was far more tedious and frustrating than she would have liked. She thought the mana usage to perform the technique would be similar to performing skills such as Aether or Counter by making small changes when necessary to get it right, but she never planned to completely throw everything she knew about mana control onto its head. Yes, they were the same on paper, but the overall execution went against everything she knew about mana manipulation without a tome. Her mind wanted her to do one thing, but the muscle memory that was her mana stream was sending her signals that what she was doing went against what she had learned. It was like she was forcing her body to stab herself despite her mind telling her it was going to hurt, and trying to hype herself up for the action was an effort in futility. It was beyond frustrating, and it showed every time she failed.

But if there's one thing she'd learned through trial and error, it was that her 'teacher's' word was to be followed to the letter. He was guiding her for a reason, and despite how she felt about his character, he was a good teacher.

However, not even he was proficient in mana and it clearly showed when he simply told her to 'keep trying until you get it right'. Well, she did, and it got her nowhere. So, in her own strike of 'brilliance', she decided to implement her skills into the exercise.

Never had she made a bigger mistake in her life.

The exercise, Chakra leaping, was a lot like her Skill 'Acrobatics' with the big difference being she was not sticking to a surface or greatly reducing her mass to walk on certain surfaces, but using mana to catapult into a specific direction. Instead of pushing mana to her core and igniting the skill that she'd gained through her training, she was supposed to push the mana to her feet while balancing the flow so it did not fluctuate while jumping and mess up the technique while leaping to another branch. Too much mana from her own source would slightly blast her off the ground. Too little, and the ground suddenly became ice and made her slip.

She'd heard him say it. She'd followed it to the best of her ability and performed it multiple times in the way he described. The problem was it just. Wasn't. Working. And finally, after multiple failures and little direction, Lucina decided to try her own theory.

Going back to her roots, she attempted to perform the skill using the knowledge given to her by the shinobi, but executed it by molding the mana the same way she would perform the skill Acrobatics. What she pictured was lightening her weight and allowing the mana blast from the overcharge to shoot her forward. When at a reasonable height, she would drop the Skill and reap the rewards of her enervative thinking.

The outcome was far worse than even her teacher expected.

She felt the familiar tingle within herself whenever she used one of her Skills and allowed it to flow through her body. Next, she overcharged the mana in her feet and leaped into the air with her new weight change.

And that's where everything went wrong.

Instead of leaping a few meters to test her hypothesis, the mana she forced to her feet blasted her far faster than she would have liked. A crater was left behind as she shot like a sniper's arrow towards the branch she originally aimed for.

Only for her to shoot far past the branch and smash almost comically into the tree behind it. Arms and legs arced around the bark, she couldn't even feel thankful for the bush that broke her fall after peeling off of the tree, which completely stopped her momentum. Through the aching mush that was her body, she foggily acknowledged the ringing in her ears, but it was a slight menace to her brain compared to the loud guffawing coming from the two blondes after her subsequent failure.

A/N: This isn't really my favorite chapter. Originally, this entire chapter was basically Naruto and Robin having an entire tea party for up to 10k words but had to scrap the idea because it was all leading and didn't really make sense in later chapters. The way I have it now is exactly what I want and adds up beautifully for later chapters but it was a pain in a half to get out...

Also, first Omake! Yes, Omake's are cannon to the story. Anything that happens in omake's didn't make main pages but found their way to the end. Have lots more of them in future chapters and most are comedic. Also got rid of Morgan's Dairy. Was a good idea in iteration of this story but just became a big spoiler in this one.

Also, question. Got any good Fire Emblem story's be it crossovers or standalone? Looking for good stories since I seem to have run out...

Last thing, there is a sentence somewhere in this that hints at Lucina's mother. Can you guess who it is O_O

Next Chapter: September 5th

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