A Friend's Request

The majority of well-wishers and anniversary guests had left. Throughout the early morning hours all the way into midday, when the river-bound breeze slowed and the Altean flags hung listlessly above the towers, a procession of chariots, riders, and travelers trusting in their feet rather than a horse trickled down the fortress hill. In their place, the glass-decorated halls saw quiet return to them. Heavy with speculation, this quiet hung in the conference room.

Frustrated, Lucina closed her book and placed it back to the pile of its brothers. A lovely day seeped through the open windows; the yellow birch leaves wouldn't tumble across the Glass Fortress' inner yard for another month. But Lucina had no eyes for the cloudless sky. Her fingers flipped through another book's register before she gave up and paced along the large conference table. On other days she would stop and admire the watercolor painting of a misty island above the mantlepiece. Today, the image of Talys, scorched in one corner and likely a creation from Caeda herself, brought her no joy. Neither did the piece of gold sprawled on the conference table between all the bookstacks.

How hard could it be to find four mythical spheres with world-changing powers? Awfully hard, as it turned out.

None of the books Lucina had consulted even mentioned spheres as key items in the creation of Archanea. One volume about oral stories did include the Binding Shield, but none of the texts agreed on its function, let alone locations tied to it. If someone possessed one of the spheres, they didn't brag about it in any of the books in Lucina's collection.

She hummed only to realize halfway through that she didn't know the melody. More confused than ever, she continued her path back and forth along the conference table.

The library in Lycia housed thousands of works across three stories. Some scrolls predated even the war with the dragons. Amidst the familiar aisles and oak reading benches, Lucina would have found her answers, if answers existed. But she would never set foot into these sandstone halls again. Pherae was forbidden to her. And although she had chosen banishment from the place of her childhood on her own volition, somedays it hurt worse than any wound she had collected on battlefields. Today was such a day.

She took her cape from the chair where she had sat, but the wool offered little warmth. How cold she felt in her own skin…

Next to the answerless shield, half vanished between the books, perched a candle. Lucina stroked the wax, untouched for the past week and a reminder of her doubts. Five stories for Naga's five credos. Have faith – none of the Alteans who gathered daily before Naga's statue had ever received an answer to their prayers. Only Lucina had stood before her, and yet she had been the one to doubt.

When she lit the candle, it didn't spark a realization. But she could imagine the warmth creeping back into her body. Someone was watching her. The loving hand of a parent hovered just out of sight to guide her.

The door flew open, and the candle went out with a hiss. Only one man would barge into the conference room without knocking, and sure enough, Ike didn't waste time in marching towards Lucina.

"I got it," he said and handed her a small, leather-wrapped book. Pressed with wax into its cover were the crossed keys of Altea.

Lucina felt her breath quicken when she turned the first page. The Ls in the small, hurried handwriting jumped out to her, as awe-inspiring and world-shattering as on the day she had seen them first. Her father had filled these pages.

"How did you get it?" Lucina asked and caressed the weathered pages.

"I had to rob a grave and gamble with a few Black Fang assassins."

"And in honesty?"

"In honesty I never want to see the inside of a storage room ever again." Ike, as usual, refused the assortment of unoccupied chairs and instead observed the room for escape routes. The wide, difficult to defend windows earned themselves a scowl from him.

Lucina paid him little mind. Enthralled, she followed the path Marth's quill had described over two decades ago. She hadn't been sure if her father had even kept a diary, but his words had not only survived the destruction of the Glass Fortress, they had found their way to her. A continuation of the letter he had left for her in his tomb. His advice then had led her to Falchion and into the presence of Naga. Perhaps these pages contained guidance once more.

Her father, almost close enough to speak to him. Lucina soaked in the text. After three pages she realized she had been reading the diary with Roy's voice in mind and stopped. Not now. Not again. She forced herself to continue.

Her eyes hurried across the text, starving for that pinch of knowledge. But Marth had either not cared to give frequent report, or he had not trusted his diary with the truth. He mentioned Naga in passing only, and for many pages, the word "spheres" was absent from his writing. He led a small group of riders into Ostia for a gathering with Eliwood. One page later, he spoke of his newborn daughter. Lucina swallowed, flicked ahead. Marth rode out for a tournament in the young duchy of Leonster, still caught in the dream of his family.

Then the dream broke. The next page contained only three words.

She is dead.

As if driven by madness, Marth's quill had filled the pages afterwards. The letters shrunk into crooked creatures until Lucina struggled to make out the words. Amidst the wrangle, she finally spotted the word "Geosphere". With trembling hands, she smoothed the page and returned to its top.

Eliwood has called to war. While my quill scratches across this paper, his army marches down the Copper Pass. The dark clouds will not leave the fortress tops, and rain torrents hide the shape of Talys in the south. My Caeda, if you had to witness the misfortune I brought upon our home, would you despair as I do? Each evening I fear Lucina will not see another dawn. The dawn you never lived to see.

The Fire Emblem waits for its completion. Its golden face tempts human hands. Sometimes it still tempts mine with the thought of riding against Eliwood and using the Geosphere so that the earth may swallow him and his army. Then at least Lucina would live. But short-lived are these thoughts. Misfortune has closed its circle around me and what I hold dear. I opened the gates for evil when I carried the sphere into these forsaken halls. More prices will there be to pay. More will be sacrificed on misfortune's altar before the end. Perhaps I will at least add Eliwood's head to the pile.

Too late comes the thought, but I will wall up the Fire Emblem in its chamber. Its curse hangs over my head already, but others may yet be spared. Lucina, let the curse end with me and not run along my bloodline. Lucina, be safe and forgive your father who fell victim to his foolish dreams. True peace for all of Archanea must be another man's calling. The war horns are calling. The end approaches quickly, it carries the banner of Pherae! It is knocking at the gates already. Oh gods, at least spare my daughter!

"And? Found something?"

Ike's voice ripped Lucina out of the past and back into the sunlit conference room. She blinked back a tear and closed Marth's diary.

"Nothing we didn't know already," Lucina said. "He must have been mad with grief in his final days."

Naga's advice echoed in her head. "Do not love something so deeply that you cannot afford to lose it" – Marth had loved his wife to such a degree. In the end it had only brought him hardship and madness, immortalized on these yellowed pages.

"So we're back to square one." Ike nodded at the candle. "Care to ask your goddess for some divine insights?"

Lucina should be used to his dismissive comments regarding Nagaism by now, but this one hit a nerve. "It's not like spell work where I say the right words and conjure the answer out of thin air," she said with more force than necessary.

Ike took the jab, only raised a brow.

Lucina sighed. The entry in Marth's diary had enwrapped her too tightly, destabilized her. Add the frustration over the missing spheres, and she was stomping like an unreasonable child in front of the man who least deserved such a behavior.

She laid Marth's diary to the other books on the table, letting go of both the pages and her sentimentalities. "We just have to look at it from another angle. If no one writes about the five spheres, maybe it's because the people who have them don't realize their true nature. On the outside, they just look like pretty gemstones."

"Gemstones with the power to destroy entire kingdoms. So we're searching for powerful fighters who accomplish inhuman feats. I can think of a few who fit the bill. The Black Knight, for starters. Dear old Roy punched his way out of Johtran on pure willpower. Frederick could probably lift a horse if he had a good breakfast…"

Ike's words blurred in Lucina's ears. Her fingers traced the Binding Shield's dragon until the path met its inevitable end at the Geosphere. The stone measured no more than a dove egg, but its depths reached endlessly, a careless watcher could lean in too far and sink within. Forests bloomed and ponds bubbled in there, only for a great fire to sweep it all away. A beautiful green fire, almost alive.

Not long until the union now. Not long…

"Lucina?"

She startled. Concern deepened the line between Ike's brows, and Lucina shook her head to disperse both his worry and the haze in her vision.

"It's nothing," she said. "I just maybe should have slept longer."

"Should we go for a walk?"

Lucina smiled to herself. Ike had said "we". Maybe he would treat her to the honest conversation he had promised her last night. With the soft rustle of leaves from outside and the late summer sun softening his battle-hardened features, it was easy to believe that he would always be there. The voice to anchor her. To drag her away from old diaries and mythic shields when her responsibilities overwhelmed her.

A walk, yes, a little sunshine to drive away the cold in her skin, that would help.

Lucina nodded to Ike. They might stop at the training rotunda on their way and cross swords as they had done on a summer afternoon in the hills around Thria. A crown had rested on her head then too, but spheres or Grima's shadows hadn't crossed her mind, and they had just sunk Roy's sword. The tempting gleam of its cross-guard stone had disappeared in the river and…

Lucina's hand froze on its way across the Geosphere. Of course. How could she have been so blind?

"The Binding Blade," she said.

"What?"

"Roy's sword had a stone in its cross-guard, just like this one. Only it was red. He could control fire with it, even though he never cared to study the magic arts. And remember when we last fought him in the throne room?"

"He had a fire spirit with him." Ike tapped an empty mold on the Binding Shield. "If she came from the stone, that would be just inhuman enough to fit."

"Exactly! Naga said one of the spheres contained the fire of life itself. The Lifesphere must be the stone in the Binding Blade."

"It would at least explain why Roy caused us so much trouble. So all we have to do is send Rath a message and ask him to open up his treasury for us."

"No one in Pherae recognized the stone in the Binding Blade for years." Lucina couldn't stop grinning; she didn't want to try. "Some of the other spheres might be buried beneath the capital's riches too."

In her mind, she already saddled her horse and galloped out of the gates for a journey northward. But she hardly managed to wrap the Binding Shield in its piece of cloth before a knock sounded on the door.

Frederick entered. "My apologies," he said. "King Rath wants to speak with you. He has been… quite adamant."

Lucina and Ike exchanged a look. Could they be this fortunate?

"Let him in," Lucina said, and Frederick turned for the door.

But Rath let himself in. Equipped with riding boots and a wool cape in the discreet brown of his house, the king of Pherae marched into the conference room. Less than two years ago, Rath would have made his presence known with laughter and his loud voice, but now he almost disappeared in Frederick's shadow.

Lucina shook her head. She was most likely imagining the change. Probably because she would never get used to seeing him without bow and arrow. The scabbard peeking out of his cape had to be an addition forced upon him by a traditionalist counselor who didn't want the line of Pheraen royalty portraits broken by someone without a sword.

"I thought you were already on your way back to Pherae," Lucina said and hurried to greet Rath.

"You are difficult to catch, Lucina," he said, but the grin didn't last long on his face. "An entire horde of strangers smashed my attempts to talk with you yesterday. I wish I could say I only stayed to give you your anniversary gift. But a dire storm drives me."

"What's wrong?"

"I need the hand of a friend."

With these words, the cracks Lucina had suspected became impossible to ignore. Rath's gestures and even his voice were missing their energy, and he slouched a little as if his scabbard weighed too much for him. Dark rings sat under his eyes. He looked older too.

"Funny you should say that." Ike leaned against the mantlepiece, arms crossed. "We were about to ask you for help with something."

Lucina raised a hand. Hopefully Ike understood it as a signal not to press the matter. At least for the moment, Rath needed support rather than demands. Pherae was Lucina's greatest ally, and when Rath wore such a disheartening impression, Altea might soon find itself in the same peril as its neighbor. Hadn't Naga said that the shadows were growing? Grima already scratched at Rath's kingdom. And Lucina, blinded by earthly steel and stone, hadn't noticed.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and offered Rath a chair at the conference table. He dropped into the upholstery and crouched there like a lost pile of expensive cloth. Maybe because most Lorca preferred the floor over a chair, and Rath still hadn't adjusted. But Lucina wouldn't bet on it.

"Has someone declared war on Pherae?" she asked. "Or are the lords rebelling against you?"

Rath plucked at lose thread from his cape. "The eagles all behave themselves. The menace comes not from any hand I know to control. Ostia and half of Sacae stand in flames."

"A bushfire?" Ike raised a brow. "That's not letting you sleep?"

"The loud stranger can pitch his camp in the fire if he pleases." Rath dropped the sarcasm and kneaded his temples. "Lorca land disappears in the flames. Ill voices say the firewall will swallow the fields around the Ostella river in two weeks. Too soon for harvest time. Pherae needs these supplies for the cold days. I cannot tell every eagle to become a hunter when they have been sitting in their nest their whole life."

"Even Altea draws from the granary of Ostia when the winters are harsh," Lucina said.

"Every voice in Pherae cries for me to act. But bow and arrow burn to cinders in a firestorm. Uther was quick to remind me that the last eagle on the throne could command fire. My hand commands nothing."

"Can we assume the fire is the product of magic?" Frederick asked from his place by the door.

"So the witnesses say. Neither rain nor embankment slow the fire in its path. The smoke clouds will reach Ostia soon. So it will happen." Rath leaned forward in his chair to fix Lucina's attention. "Unless you lend me your hand in the hunt for those who cause the fire."

"What can I do?"

"Ride to Sacae with me. As I once rode with you into the eagle nest."

Lucina had to break eye contact. Gods, she had promised him friendship, he had overstepped laws and ancient trade agreements to help her rebuild Altea – and she had so little to give in return. "Rath, I can't," she said. "I'm banished from Pheraen ground."

Rath slammed his palm on the table. "I renounce your banishment!"

"You can't decide that alone."

"Why else do I wear this crown?"

"Please try to understand. I have brought too much hardship upon the people of Pherae. They must believe in your leadership. But you would be straining their favors too far if you let their former tyrant walk through the capital gates as she pleases."

Rath kicked his chair back, and his eyes darted around the table for something he could throw. But he found no wine mugs and no lifeline to grab either. His shoulders sank, a lonely figure with a gleaming crown against the summer sun. Although his kingdom burned many wyvern miles away, Lucina tasted the ashes on her lips.

Frederick cleared his throat. "With all due respect, I'm not oathbound to keep my distance to Pherae. Neither is Ike."

"Well spoken!" Rath slapped Frederick on the back, and his old grin returned. "If you or Ike ride into Sacae, the cowards behind the fire are sure to crawl back into their holes. Fear will chase them and fast!"

Ike threw a glance at Lucina. "We're kind of busy on other fronts."

Rath frowned. "You never step down from a fight. Has the south breeze softened you?"

"Not any more than the sandstone luxuries of Lycia ruined your fighting spirit."

"Ha! Few have the guts to challenge the head who carries this loathsome crown. A welcome exception." Rath reached for his brooch to loosen his cape. He had never needed a particular reason to throw a campfire brawl.

"Rath, Ike isn't meaning to provoke you," Lucina said. "I have received warning of an approaching evil that threatens all of Archanea. I will do what I can for you, but I can't put this task aside, even if I wanted to."

"What worse danger creeps in Archanea than fire that refuses to die?"

"Naga herself showed me. My father failed as her champion, but the shield he left me—"

"You are still hunting ghosts! I ask for your help as a friend, Lucina. But you rather follow Lyn's path and remain idle until those you call friends lie in the dust before your feet."

"Cut it," Ike growled. "You're not thinking straight. If some megalomaniacal mage summoned that fire from their textbooks, I'll bring you their head. I've done this before. But you see, I'm a mercenary. And as payment for my services, you would do us all a great favor if you could dig up the Binding Blade from your treasury."

The anger lines vanished from Rath's face. With tired movements, as if every twist of a muscle cost him a year's worth of life energy, he reached under his cloak and freed the scabbard from his belt. He removed the cloth wrapped around the sword hilt. And in a gesture of utter defeat, he tossed the Binding Blade onto the table.

No one dared to breathe until the clatter of steel echoed out. Lucina couldn't believe her eyes. A mere armlength from her shimmered Roy's sword, the golden ridge he had driven into her father's chest, the crown-shaped cross-guard from which Tiki's blood had dripped, and the embedded gemstone she had stroked on his lap when she had been four, a perfect red twin to the Geosphere.

Even after Lucina tore her eyes from the Binding Blade to Rath, she struggled to form words. "You swore never to use it…"

"I am at my wit's end," Rath said and sunk back into his chair.

"So you're trying to fight fire with fire?" Ike asked.

"Roy commanded fire. It raged against his enemies, not the land he needed to feed his eagle empire. If I can do the same—"

"This power isn't made for human hands," Lucina said.

"A sword is made to cut, is it not?"

"I saw what its fire can do. What it did to Roy. Virion still carries the burn scars it caused him."

"Sacae, my land, is burning. Will you not do anything to serve your people?"

Of course, anything. Except become the tyrant a second time.

Lucina forced steel into her voice. "You have to give up the sword."

Rath narrowed his eyes. His hand wandered towards the Binding Blade. "Why should I? You gave me the crown. This sword belongs to the king. It's mine!"

The look on Rath's face chilled Lucina to the core. Fire burned in his irises, but it was a cold, merciless fire, like the frost of glacier eyes.

"Rath." Lucina chose every word with immense care. "You were asking for my help as your friend. As a friend, let me tell you this: The Binding Blade won't save the grasslands of Sacae. It won't feed your people when winter comes. And it won't win you the hearts of Pherae. You are not Roy, and you are not the foolish tyrant who followed him. The reason why I gave you the crown is that you are better than both of them. The reason why I left the Binding Blade in your care is that you know better than to use it."

Rath's eyes hung on the sword. The red gemstone lured him, threatened to drown him. His fingers crept towards the hilt.

He pushed the Binding Blade towards Lucina. Without another look, he rose from his chair and walked towards the open windows. He took a deep breath like a drowning man who had breached the surface.

When he turned back to Lucina, he smiled. "You speak well. I see you kept your tongue sharp in the last months, and again you prove to me that I have yet much to learn from your Altean diplomacy. I will not let such shameful behavior befall me again."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Lucina said.

All shadows had fallen from Rath, and freed of their weight, he carried himself upright once more. Not once did he look back to the sword on the conference table.

"This is great and all, but the stone doesn't look like it will jump out of the sword and fit itself into the shield anytime soon." Ike nodded at the Binding Blade.

"I'm certain the blacksmiths of the Glass Fortress will be well-equipped for this task," Frederick said. "But it will be a lengthy procedure."

"Why not just smash the cross-guard and be done with it?"

"The metalwork is far too precise for that. The enclosure is perfectly fitted for the stone, and heat exposure over the years, especially from the flames the sword summons, will have melted the gold to the stone. You can tell by the smooth transition and—"

"And since when are you an expert of smithing?"

Frederick reddened and closed his mouth. Lucina felt compelled to save him from Ike's questions, but Rath beat her to the case.

"The details of your task still escape me," he said, "but you seem to be hunting for these gemstones. A week or more will pass before this one loosens itself from the sword. A week is a long time to share both bread and worries with a fellow hunter. Can no words convince you to ride to Sacae with me?"

Lucina flinched. "Rath…"

"Sacae is not Pherae. Ostia governs itself for most matters. I will not ask you back as Rath, king of Pherae. I ask you as Rath of the Lorca to ride with me under the protection of Lorca hospitality law."

Lucina shook her head, but a smile broke through regardless. "Are you sure you still need my advice with diplomacy? You are twisting the truth to your liking better than any counselor in my household."

A laugh. "A questionable competition, but I will still do my utmost to win. You said you can never set foot into Pherae. I know of a method where no boot of yours has to touch Pheraen ground. If the heir to Marth would do me the honor of following into the yard outside – Your anniversary gift is waiting for you there."

Lucina left the Binding Blade in Ike's and Frederick's care and, still smiling, climbed down the stairs into the yard. Her suspicions proved true when Rath handed her the reins of a thoroughbred Caelin. With a grin, he watched her stroke the stallion's forehead. The horse was of exceptional beauty. Rath had to have searched for weeks in the stables of his kingdom for a Caelin with such a unique dapple-gray fur color, proud in its prancing but swifter than even a wyvern pursuer, if the strong hind muscles were any indicator.

After a moment of judging from both sides, the stallion nibbled at Lucina's shoulder and allowed her to tickle him behind his finely curved ears, a staple of the breed.

"He's almost too wonderful to ride," Lucina said.

"Too wonderful not to ride, you mean," Rath corrected. "My request still stands."

"You do realize this is bribery, right?"

Another laugh. "I would be foolish not to use every tool at my disposal. But let us speak truth. Even if we find no hands behind the fire to cut off, I will still feel reassured with a friend by my side. Pherae is as vast and lonely as the desert sometimes."

Lucina told herself she had put up a fight. But in honesty she should have known Rath would convince her sooner or later; Lorca had a reputation as people who never lower their chin for a reason. A promise to turn her focus onto Naga's task and the whole of Archanea came easy from her lips. A tangible hour with the people who mattered most to her passed all too quickly.

Although the warning in Marth's diary scraped at the back of her head, Lucina let that hour outweigh her promise. By the time Frederick handed the Binding Blade to the best blacksmith the Glass Fortress had to offer, Lucina had agreed to inspect the firewall in Sacae. It would be a short journey without banners.

She gave her farewell orders and saddled her horse. Marth's diary slipped into her bags unnoticed.

The Fire Emblem waits for its completion. Its golden face tempts human hands.

Perhaps it was true, Lucina mused when she wrapped the Binding Shield into her travel coat and packed the bundle next to the diary. Grima's shadows threatened to burn Sacae, and all the more urgent grew the need to complete Marth's task and unite the spheres. Whether Lucina would share his madness in the end… only the gods knew.


Afternoon stretched the shadows of the battlements far into the yard when the group of four riders passed underneath the great archway. The vastness of Sacae called them.

Both Ike and Frederick had insisted to serve as Lucina's escort, no matter how often she stressed the importance of keeping a low profile. Frederick laid out a detailed list arguing why Lucina absolutely needed him for this expedition. Ike on the other hand pulled his horse by its reins before she could even attempt to say no.

"No better way to avoid another storage room," he said.

They passed fields ripe with grain on their way. The wheat heads bobbed with the breeze, and wild orange trees lined the road, heavy with fruits. Altea enjoyed a rich summer. Naga prophesized doom, but neither the honeybees in their search for nectar nor the sheep on their buttercup hills knew of such things. Lucina spurred her new stallion only to enjoy the steady beat of his gallop and the wind combing her hair. How shortsighted were Naga's creations.

Rath did not once mention the Binding Blade. Although they were headed towards the fire, he regained his energy with every wyvern mile they added between themselves and the Glass Fortress. Soon he raced Lucina through the birch groves until they were both laughing. Even Frederick joined their game once, after Rath and Lucina bombarded him with less than subtle reminders of the crowns they wore.

Ike said little.

The Silver Stream and the low boats to ferry them across wouldn't appear between the sunbathed birch trunks for another hour. Here and there, farm houses dotted the landscape, so lonely and forgotten that not even Grima would bother to plant his shadows here.

They were passing under an apple tree. Its fruit-laden branches leaned over the crooked farmer fence to paint a play of light and shadow onto the road, tainted in green. Rath lifted himself from his saddle and plucked two apples from the bough overhead.

Frederick's face went white.

Lucina chuckled at his expression. "How bold of you to steal from Altean soil in front of the Altean general. Come on, Rath, put those back."

"Otherwise Frederick is gonna suffer a stroke," Ike added.

Rath turned in his saddle, grinned, and tossed one of the apples to Frederick. He caught the fruit on instinct before stiffening with a dismayed frown. Although Rath rode ahead with the sounds of excessive chewing, Frederick dismounted. He polished his apple back to its shiny red self as best he could and placed it on one of the fence posts. Only then did he climb back into the saddle.

"The next wanderer is going to snag himself that one," Ike said and set his horse back into motion with a click of the tongue. "Don't think you did the farmer a favor."

Frederick craned his neck to look back at the apple. "You are right. I should have brought it to the farm house and apologize in person."

Ike huffed. "You are incurable."

"He has a point," Lucina said. "If we start taking from others, even if it's just one apple, where do we draw the line? What is still acceptable?"

"With that logic, overblown birthday celebrations with ten types of wine aren't."

Lucina flinched. "I thought the people would like it…"

"Oh, they love you for it."

"I believe it was a more than sensible idea to improve the people's morale," Frederick added. "Not to mention that you deserve to celebrate after everything you have done for Altea already."

"Still," Lucina said, "I don't want to place myself above the rules because I happen to wear a golden circlet."

"The Glass Fortress does demand sizable amounts of grain and fruit from Altean farmers, that is true. Any unnecessary increases may meet resistance. Consider the possibility that this one apple there will decide whether one of the farmer's children starves to death this winter. A possibility that becomes all the more imminent if the fields of Ostia are indeed burning. And we mustn't forget, with the new Talys policy, we can hardly count on their grain shipments either."

"Talys needs that bit of sovereignty to heal after what Shanna and Roy did to the island."

"I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. I approve of your decision, truly. But this apple—"

"—is just one small fruit," Ike said. "It's not gonna change the world. You can have one of mine if you're hungry."

"This careless mindset will one day be the death of you. And hopefully I won't be standing next to you when that day comes." Frederick straightened in his saddle. "I took stock of our storage rooms, and at the current rate, we will run out of oranges in three months. This must absolutely be considered when we compile the next fruit charges."

Ike groaned. "I give up. You are married to your work, and when I want to talk to you, I might as well consult a rulebook instead."

Lucina leaned towards Ike and lowered her voice. "So you haven't noticed?"

"Have I noticed what?"

"Frederick is seeing someone. He leaves the fortress at the strangest times. It's all very mysterious."

Frederick grew as red as the apple he had left behind. "I'm not seeing anyone!"

"I thought you would at least tell me," Lucina said in her most dramatic, hurt voice. "But clearly I was mistaken about the level of trust between us."

"It's not someone we know, is it?" Ike asked. "Unless… you were the one who picked out a cat for Titania, didn't you? That striped one with the crooked ears? And at the ball, one could have sworn her outfit matched yours, with the color and all."

"That must be it!"

Frederick squirmed and looked like he could imagine nothing more tempting than gallop ahead and secure a ferry for himself. "I'm not seeing Titania or anyone. Not in that sense."

"So in another sense?" Ike asked. "And here I thought speaking truthfully and all was part of the knight decree. My worldview is shaking. Not even the knightliest of knights can be trusted it seems."

"Unless we get a name, you won't hear the end of this, old man," Lucina said, barely able to contain her laughter. "You can't disappear night after night and assume I wouldn't notice."

Frederick battled with himself. After a moment, his shoulders sank, defeated.

"I apologize if I have betrayed your trust," he said. "Nothing could have been farther from my intentions, and I never meant ill with my actions. I confess I have been leaving the fortress on a regular basis in the past month." He sighed. "I have started an apprenticeship with a blacksmith."

Lucina almost fell out of her saddle. "You have what?"

"I will end the endeavor at once if you wish it. Please forgive me for—"

"Frederick." Lucina directed her horse parallel to his and placed a hand on his arm. "That's wonderful. I'm glad you have found something to spend your free time with. Something other than more work."

"I… thank you. I'm not very good yet, I'm afraid."

"So we'll be fighting with swords forged by you soon?" Ike asked.

"I have taken a liking to other metalworks, actually. Pots and goblets and the like. Maybe one day I will improve enough for a chandelier. They are perhaps more useful than a sword, I believe."

"How modest."

"And when will I be seeing some of your work?" Lucina tugged at Frederick's reins. "Come on, you can't tease me with your accomplishments and then keep them from me."

Under the expectant looks of Ike and Lucina, Frederick had no choice but to relent. He reached into his saddlebag, and with an embarrassed shuffle, placed a metal ring into Lucina's palm.

"I warned you, I'm still lacking expertise," he said. "It's not finished yet."

The ring was simple and, compared to the gold and silver riches tossed around at Lucina's anniversary, had a crude look to it. The edges needed smoothing. Indents from a small hammer still disfigured the surface, and the metal missed the shimmer of perfection. It was beautiful.

"A bit small," Ike said when he leaned over to inspect Frederick's handiwork.

Lucina ran her thumb across the ring. "This will barely fit on your finger, Frederick. It looks more like a woman's size." She grinned triumphantly. "So you are seeing someone!"

Frederick lapsed into dismayed silence and would not look at either of them or the ring, even after Lucina threatened him in her royal voice. Still grinning, she slid the ring into her pockets. She would give it back later.

After the Silver Stream followed the grasslands of Sacae. Lucina paused before stepping out of the beached ferry. In one sense or another, the smooth stones this side of the river belonged to Pherae. She had sworn not to return. She had sworn herself not to allow Roy's shadow any power over her should the slightest sliver still creep through Pheraen soil. But the river bank stretched far from any shadows before her. Did she not journey for a friend in need? Rath still needed her help. Archanea still needed her help. Did she not owe them to go through any lengths necessary?

Lucina, Naga's champion, took a deep breath. She stored her crown into her saddlebag and entered Sacae.

The birch forests thinned into bent and sunburned stone pines until they too made room for endless hills. The vast nothing of Rath's homeland stretched in all directions. Untamed herds of gazelles dashed deeper into the grassland long before the four riders came in bow range. Rath still returned from a scouting ride with a shot buck while the rest of them hid in the shade of a rock formation; that evening they feasted on meat and starlit stories.

Then, as they ventured deep into the heart of Sacae, the wind changed. Dark clouds towered in the east, and instead of dry grass, Lucina tasted smoke on her lips. The stench clung to her cape, to her hair, to the bread she ate, and still she followed Rath farther east, towards the principality of Ostia.

Years ago, she had ridden into this region with a mission from Roy. Now she retreaded her steps, a rebellion and a civil war later, and had to remind herself she came with good intentions this time. The taste of smoke still lingered on her tongue. Burned air, burned grass, burned flesh. Like a flaming sword biting into her forearms, driven by the man she had wanted to call father.

Lucina's hand wandered towards her saddlebag and the Binding Shield hiding between blankets and rations of gazelle meat. How had it found its way into her baggage? She could not say. Maybe a voice in her head had whispered that the shield would find its use here. It had felt right to keep it close. It still did.

Ike threw her a look when he rode past her, and she forced her hands back to the reins.

The sun barely fought its way through the dark clouds overhead; only during dawn and dusk, the grass hems swayed in a sea of golden colors. Otherwise Sacae was dim and dark.

Sacae was still dim and dark when around noon, several days since their departure from the Glass Fortress, Lucina and her company mounted the last great hillcrest before Ostia. Ahead of them, the Ostella river described a great curve, the farthest it dared to reach into the Sacaen grassland. At this bend lay the town at the heart of Ostia's principality. Its houses crouched by the riverside, a hasty, poorly planned mess of bridges and thatched roofs. A stretch of teeming farmland separated the townsfolk from the wild savanna and the desert further south. Wheat and rye and fig acres alternated into a three-colored chessboard.

And towards this chessboard rolled a firewall. Flames struck high into the sky where they fed the storm clouds, a swirl of red and black and so hot that Lucina felt it striking her cheeks from half a wyvern mile away. In its unstoppable advance, the firewall had swallowed the first fields. But neither wheat nor rye nor fig trees satiated its hunger as it spread towards the houses of Ostia.

The horses whinnied, panicked, the smell of death in their nostrils.

Rath restrained his stallion with a sharp tug of the reins. "The situation is worse than I feared."

"I have never seen something of this magnitude," Lucina said and fastened her collar. Grima's ghastly figure flashed before her inner eye.

"That's the product of magic," Ike said. "See the glowing white strings towards the fire's base? Someone cast this spell, either because they're the clumsiest mage in existence or they really hate the taste of figs."

One person was supposed to have caused this? Lucina shuddered. This firewall dwarfed the powers of kings and armies. Even if she and Rath summoned all their soldiers, their efforts would amount to nothing but burn scars and vaporized lungs. And if Grima had reached with his foul breath into the hearts of people to cause this? Naga had warned of evil in the east, but she demanded the impossible. Without the spheres, Lucina stood no chance against a power that burned the sky itself.

"Are you sure a mage did this?" she asked.

"The magic users who were crazy enough to sign up for the Altean rebellion didn't command fire on that scale," Ike said, "but the patterns are the same."

"So there is a culprit hand to cut off." Rath scanned the plain with the sharp eye only a Sacaen hunter possessed. "But the grasslands are vast. Days are needed for a hunt like this. Neither Uther nor the people of Ostia can allow themselves such patience."

Lucina tore her eyes from the advancing firewall towards Ostia. "We should visit Uther. He has monitored the situation, he must know something that could help us track down the mage responsible for this."

"I do not look forward to a meeting with him," Rath said. "Words and diplomacy have their uses. But here I say we charge at the evil. The one who commands the fire must hide nearby."

"I'm not sure it works that way…"

"If I may suggest a compromise." Frederick directed his horse forward. When no one rebuked him for speaking, he continued. "We might improve our chances of gathering intel if we split our efforts. Uther has few excuses to deny his king an audience. But with two royal visitors, we would unreasonably strain his hospitality."

Rath's face lit up. "Against the heir to Marth, Uther will yield faster than a mouse yields to the desert falcon. You can squeeze him for answers, and I can ride in the opposite direction of his judging eyes."

"I'm not even supposed to set foot into Sacae," Lucina reminded. "Let alone plot with the lord of Ostia."

"You will find the words to convince him that he has waited for you alone."

Lucina let her gaze drift across the faces of Frederick, Rath, and Ike. There she paused. The smoke burned in her eyes. "I would rather not split up," she said. "If there really is a mage with this kind of power, and if they notice even the slightest threat to their plan—"

"You carve your face in worry for no reason. Ike is too stubborn to die," Rath said with a laugh. "I hope to see this quality rub off."

Lucina shook her head ever so slightly. Ike noticed, she could read that from his face, the face that had been an enigma to her for so long. Countless times had they parted, countless more times had she imagined how he would ride into the wilderness of Tellius and never return, their paths forever separated by victory or death. Still the pressure on her throat never eased. As though he was taking half the air in her lungs with him.

"He hired me," Ike said, "and he already paid for my services with the Binding Blade. I better deliver a head in return."

"So it will happen." Rath wheeled his horse towards the firewall and jutted his chin in Lorca fashion. "May your arrows always meet their target."

Frederick walked his horse the other way. A couple strides ahead, he waited for Lucina. She still struggled to flick the reins when Ike rode past her. The noose around her throat tightened.

"We'll meet up at Ostia's outskirts," he said over his shoulder. His voice was soft, right behind her. "Don't expect it to be later than sundown."

Lucina couldn't see his face. And she didn't look back. "I'll be waiting."

They both spurred their horses. Lucina leaned forward for the gallop. Dried tufts of grass were flung behind her, the firewall grew, and so did her unease as she rode down to Ostia.


Notes: Did I conveniently forget that Lucina's canon birthday is in April while writing this? Yes. But since I did such a good job weaving the fall season into this, I can't change it now. Oh well. Besides, since I placed the fall of Altea into spring from twenty years ago, this way things align better with my vision of Lucina having been a few months old at the time, rather than newborn.