I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening or any of its characters.
New Companions
Nightmares. Horrible visions of the things we fear most. For him, it wasn't so simple as to be described this way. It was much worse. It was real. And it was Hell. He could feel the ache of his overused muscles. The vibrations of his blade on those of his foes. The exhaustion of his magic pulling from his body's energy. He could feel the pain of his wounds and the blessed relief of losing enough blood to go numb. But he could also feel the agony of his heartbreak. Of dead friends and a destroyed home. The Hell of watching his sister murder his best friend.
"Chrom, we have to do something."
"What do you propose we do?"
"Uh...I don't know."
His eyes dragged open slowly, a groan dragging itself lethargically from his throat. Two faces stared down at him. One was a young girl, her pale blonde hair in a pair of wild, messy ponytails. The other was a young man, his dark blue hair messy.
"I see you're awake now," the male greeted him.
"Hey there," the girl smiled.
"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," the man smiled.
He nodded a tired acknowledgement, head rolling to his left. There was a third person present. He was older than the other two with a head of brown hair swept backward, and he wore a suit of white and silver plate armor, but he was paying no attention to his companions or their new acquaintance. He was, instead, staring down at the grass. In front of him, lying in the grass, were a book with a hard, bright yellow cover, and a sword. The sword had a grip long enough for two hands with a grip formed from a very thin coppery metal rod twisted around the hilt to allow a more secure hold, leaf-shaped, blade-like pommel, a guard that, like the rest of the hilt, was gilded, then a coin-shaped extension of the quillon block about three inches across attached to the hilt over the first section of the gleaming, spotless, silvery blade. The faces of the quillon block were decorated by a pair of rubies, one cut into a sphere and the other an oval. The spherical ruby was set into the quillon block just above the grip, and the oval-cut ruby was set into the hilt just before the blade, a matching pair of rubies adjourning the opposite face of the quillon block. Connecting the rubies on either side was a design in the metal which was perfectly rounded to circle the spherical rubies, then smoothly curved up and outward as it crossed the quillon block, before reaching out to the edge of the quillon block and segmenting off about a quarter of the block's area, which included the oval-cut rubies.
The armored man reached down toward the sword, and the young man on the ground exploded into motion. The shift from half-awake to combative was so sudden that none of the three had a chance to react. The young man rammed his shoulder into the young man over him, impacting with his gut and throwing him away. As the soldier spun, he dove into a roll, sweeping up both the tome and the sword from the ground, then rolled to his feet, facing the trio in a low crouch. His left hand held the book and rested the backs of his fingers on the ground as the right held the sword behind him in reverse grip, the blade resting across his back. Both of the males who had stumbled upon the unconscious stranger drew weapons instantly. The man in armor drew a silver lance, while the other drew a uniquely designed sword. It bore a teardrop-shaped hole in the center of the guard, the metal making up the weapon following the shape of the opening, leaving a wider section where the guard would be and with a pair of short, thin metal rods sticking out of the base of the hollowed-out section as the actual guard. The man who had been unconscious snarled angrily. Then, as the knight moved to impale him, the man struck. The first strike, a slash in reverse grip, knocked the spear aside before the sword's own weight and momentum swung it around to standard grip for its wielder. As it did, the yellow tome left the man's hand, racing along his arm, though a few inches, no more than three, away from his skin, then stopped to hover behind his back. A second later, the man's second slash swept back around at his armored foe, only for the other man's sword to block his own.
"Chrom, be careful!" the girl yelped, staring at the man wielding the hollow sword.
Chrom didn't respond, instead shoving the man's sword away and slashing back at him. The man deflected the blade and stabbed, then parried and countered Chrom's counter. The pair fought savagely in a seemingly endless series of parries and counters, neither ceasing to move for even a second as sparks flew from their blades repeated clashes. Finally, the spearman re-entered the fray with a sweeping strike, using his double-edged, dagger-like spearhead as a slashing weapon, only for the man to duck and spin under it, stabbing at him. For a brief moment, it seemed the strike would land, until a new weapon, another sword, crashed into the underside of the man's, knocking it away. This sword bore a gilded, triangular section connecting the hilt to the guard, then more blocky, four-sided horn-like arms, a blue grip, a gilded cylinder pommel, and a gleaming, silvery blade similar to the man's own.
As the man stumbled backward, his sword swinging up over his head, a new face stepped between him and the armored man. The face bore a strong resemblance to his own, if vastly more feminine. The young woman's snow-white hair matched his own for color and was in a pair of braids along the sides of her head before meeting in the back where they joined the rest of her hair in a ponytail, all except for her bangs, which hung to her chin on her left and to her shoulder on her right, and a single, stubborn lock which stuck disobediently upward atop her head in front. Her strikingly blue eyes pierced him worse than a blade ever could have as they met his own matching ones. Even their clothes were nearly identical. White shirts, black pants, and a black cloth with gold edges hanging around their waist, all under a large, black, hooded traveling cloak with gold cuffs on the ends of the sleeves, gold trim, gold triangles spaced out along the bottom of the cloaks, and dark purple lines running down the outsides of their sleeves with eye-like designs on their shoulders and just below their elbows. The young man swung his left foot back, stopping himself and lowering his sword to his side, staring at the young women in a stunned silence for another moment before both the book and sword fell to the ground.
"R...Robin," the young man's voice intoned.
"Corbin," the woman identified him, then stepped forward, dropping her own sword and yellow tome to the ground as well, hugging him. "Why...do I feel so relieved?"
Corbin shook his head before stepping backward. "I feel like I haven't seen you in years." He watched her for another moment, then turned, staring at Chrom. "You're Chrom."
Chrom nodded slowly. "Who are you?"
Corbin shook his head. "I don't...remember."
"Excuse me?" the spearman scoffed. "After all that, you expect us to believe you can't remember who you are?"
"I can remember my name, and I can remember my sister," he gestured to Robin, "but everything else..." He shook his head. "Nothing. Only vague images. There was...some kind of battle. I think I was hurt. And..." He closed his eyes, frowning. "I...think I saw you, Chrom."
"Me?" Chrom asked.
"Impossible!" the spearman snapped. "I know for certain that we've never met you before!"
"I remember Chrom, too," Robin spoke up, sheathing her sword at her side, holding her tome in her hand. "I don't know why, but...I do."
"Also, where are we?" Corbin asked.
"And now you expect us to believe you don't know where we are?" the spearman asked.
"I've heard of this!" the young girl gasped. "It's called amnesia!"
"Amnesia?" Robin repeated.
"It's called a load of pegasus dung," the spearman said.
"What if it is true, Frederick?" Chrom asked. "We can't just leave them out here alone and confused."
"I agree," Frederick nodded. "We should slay them and be done with it. He's already attacked us. He's clearly an enemy."
"No," Corbin shook his head. "It's just...I don't like people touching my sword. It's important to me, but..." he knelt, picking it up and staring at it as his tome floated up behind his back again, "I can't...remember exactly why."
"It's a beautiful blade," Chrom said. "Was it a gift?"
"That...sounds right," Corbin frowned, then groaned, his left hand holding his right side as he fell to his knees.
"He's hurt!" the girl gasped. "Here, I can help!"
She pulled a staff off of her back, holding it out toward him as she chanted a short spell. The crystal at the end of the staff shone green before green light enveloped Corbin, then faded. He blinked in surprise, feeling his side, then looked up at her, smiling in relief.
"Thank you!" Corbin sighed.
"Lady Lissa!" Frederick snapped. "Why would you heal him?"
"He was hurt!" Lissa snapped back.
"Enough, you two," Chrom sighed. "Look, until we find out what's true and what's not, I suggest we bring them both with us. We can sort things out once we reach town."
"So, you're taking us prisoner?" Robin asked, following Chrom as he walked away.
"Don't worry," Chrom reassured them. "We'll hear all you have to say once you reach town. And you'll be free to go once we decide you're not an enemy to Ylisse."
"Is that where we are?" Robin asked.
"You've never heard of the halidom?" Frederick scoffed. "Hah! Someone pay the actress! She plays quite the fool!"
"My sister is not a fool!" Corbin growled.
"Frederick, please," Chrom sighed. "This land is known as the halidom of Ylisse. It's ruler, Emmeryn, is called the exalt. My name is Chrom, but then, you already knew that. The delicate one here is my sister, Lissa," he gestured to the girl.
"I am not delicate!" Lissa snapped. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick at times. But you're lucky the Shepherds found you. Brigands would've been a rude awakening. Although, it might have ended up being one for them, too, so..." She shrugged.
"Shepherds?" Robin asked.
"You tend sheep?" Corbin asked. "In full armor? With weapons like that?"
"It's a dangerous job," Chrom shrugged, smiling. "Just ask Frederick the Wary, here." He gestured to the spearman.
"A title I shall wear with pride," Frederick bowed slightly. "Gods forbid one of us keep an appropriate level of caution."
"Anyway," Chrom sighed, "You said your names are Robin and Corbin?"
"That's right," Corbin nodded.
"Two types of birds, huh?" Chrom chuckled. "That's kind of funny."
"I suppose," Corbin shrugged.
"So, how does your magic tome float behind your back like that?" Lissa asked. "I've never seen them do that before, and Robin is carrying hers."
"Corbin's tome is unique," Robin explained. "I'm not sure how I remember, but I remember we made it ourselves. We placed a pair of spell circles on the covers, then filled the inside of the book with every lightning-type spell we could get our hands on. With the book, he can cast spells without reciting the incantation by placing his palm to the spell circle on the back cover, and the spell fires from the front cover's spell circle. Using spells that way is more tiring since, unlike a normal spell tome, which has its own store of magic energy, his generates magic energy by siphoning off his body's store of energy, but it's faster and allows him to be able to use spells with one hand without having to put his sword away or flip through the book to find the right spells. And then, through a combination of his control of magic and the tome being what it is, he's able to manipulate it with his mind, keeping it behind himself until he needs to use it."
"Smart," Chrom nodded appreciatively. "You're clever, Corbin."
"Thanks," Corbin smiled. "But Robin left something out. Magic may come naturally to me, but with any tome except mine, I'm pathetic with it. My tome ended up being more of a crutch than a weapon. Since I never had to memorize spell incantations by using normal tomes, my tome is the only way for me to wield magic reliably, so if I were to lose it, I'd be useless with magic. On the other hand, since magic was made simply by having a tome that essentially cast the spells for me, I focused my efforts on my swordplay instead, so I'm at least decent with that. Robin, on the other hand, is the reverse. Her control over magic is unparalleled, to the point that with a simple Thunder cast, she can either fire the usual blasts of electricity, fire a bolt of lightning from her hand by expending extra of the spell tome's store of magic energy, or create a blade made of lightning by focusing the spell to her hand. However, in training to fine-tune her magic and studying to master magic no matter what tome she has, her swordplay suffered a bit."
"You remember all of this, and yet you claim you can't remember anything?" Frederick asked skeptically.
"I can remember Robin," Corbin shrugged.
"And I remember Corbin," Robin nodded.
"Well," Chrom spoke up before frederick could continue his interrogation, "from what I saw earlier, you're right about one thing, you're plenty dangerous with a sword. And speaking of, your sword's beautiful, and well crafted. I've never encountered a blade that could stand against my own for so many clashes and not bear a mark."
"Yes, I noticed that, too," Frederick said. "What is it made out of?"
"I don't know," Corbin shook his head. "I was wondering that myself." He rested a hand on the sword's grip. "I can't remember anything about it, other than that it's important to me, and I can't remember much of anything about myself, but I can remember Robin almost perfectly."
"The same in reverse for me," Robin agreed. "My sword is priceless to me, I know next to nothing about myself, and yet I know Corbin better than he knows himself. I'm not even sure how I know that."
"Well, maybe your mem-" Chrom stopped dead, staring at the scene before them, as did the others.
The town they were heading to was on fire. The Church, the bank, several shops, numerous houses, all had been set ablaze.
"The town!" Lissa gasped.
"Those damn brigands!" Chrom snarled. "Lissa, Frederick, let's go!"
"But milord, what about them?" Frederick asked, gesturing to Corbin and Robin.
"Unless they're on fire, too, it can wait!" Chrom shouted back to Frederick.
"Aptly put, milord," Frederick bowed, then mounted his horse, which wore armor to protect it in battle. "Remain here. We will return once the town is safe."
And with that, he spurred the horse forward, racing after Chrom a Lissa. Corbin shook his head, then ran after them, Robin just behind him.
"They can get mad later," Robin said. "They need help."
"Agreed," Corbin nodded, both siblings drawing their swords.
As they entered the town, the battle had already begun. The majority of the battling was centered in a fair-sized square in front of the church, though when needed, Frederick was making use of the side streets to be able to maneuver his horse, as well as charging the thugs. As they stepped into the square, a thug leapt at Lissa, pulling his axe back and cheering, only for Robin to raise her right hand, sword and all, and extend her index finger as she chanted an incantation. A moment later, a blast of electricity shot from her index finger, the blast elongated and condensing into something resembling a spear, or at least a spike. Then, as it reached the airborne thug, it pierced his body like an arrow, impaling him through the chest before electrocuting him and launching his body away from Lissa. Lissa cheered as she realized who had saved her, then again as Corbin easily deflected a slash another thug had aimed at him and delivered one of his own to the thug's chest.
As the thug crumpled, Corbin raised his left arm, his tome racing along his arm before resting its back cover against his outstretched fingertips, remaining there as he swung his hand around, aiming it at a group of four thugs charging Chrom, who was currently carving his way through four more with little resistance. Once Corbin had the tome aimed properly, he slammed his palm to the tome's back cover, feeling the book draw on his body's natural store of energy as a bolt of lightning erupted from the spell circle on the tome's front cover and flashed across the square, splitting into four bolts just shy of the thugs and striking them all, killing them instantly. Once the spell had been cast, he flicked his hand to the side and the book raced back to its previous spot in much the same way it had come.
"Amazing!" Lissa cheered as a pair of thugs charged Corbin and Robin.
Robin side-stepped an axe and stabbed the thug, then used the sole of her foot to push him off of her blade and onto the ground, as Corbin deflected a thrust from a spear and stepped forward, slashing the thug up the front and killing him instantly. Then, a few steps later, the pair reached Lissa. Corbin immediately grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her between and past them as Robin, to Corbin's left, lunged. A moment later, there was a clash of metal on metal as an axe blade crashed into her own, only barely stopping. Then, Corbin passed Robin and slashed that thug, and one behind him who had been distracted with attempting to avoid a charge by Frederick, only for Corbin's blade to sever his spine. Frederick ignored Corbin and Robin, charging into the group pressing toward Chrom, instead, and slashed one with his spearhead before impaling another, his horse trampling a third. Then, he had passed the group and Chrom smoothly felled the last three of the thugs. All that remained was the leader of the bandits.
"Damn you!" the man spat. "You filthy Ylisseans!"
He ripped the head of an axe from the ground, hefting it high over himself as he charged, only for Robin and Corbin's two Thunder casts to slam into him, hurling him backward into the wall of the church, cracking the masonry slightly, but killing him.
"That takes care of that," Robin said.
"What made him think a head-on charge would work?" Corbin asked. "Did he not just see us blast like half his men?"
"He was desperate," Frederick explained. "Desperation can make men do stupid things."
"Clearly," Corbin nodded.
"Thank you for your help," Chrom said. "Both of you. You protected Lissa twice, protected me once, and without your aid, that battle may have dragged on for much longer."
"You're welcome," Corbin smiled.
"What else are friends for?" Robin asked.
"Friends, huh?" Chrom smiled. "Yeah, you're right. You've earned my trust."
"Milord," Frederick cautioned.
"They fought to save Ylissean lives," Chrom shrugged. "My heart says, that's enough."
"And your mind, milord?" Frederick asked. "Will you not heed its counsel as well?"
"Frederick, the Shepherds could use someone with their talents," Chrom said exasperatedly. "We've brigands and unruly neighbors, all looking to bloody our soil. Would you really have us lose such able combatants? Besides, I believe their story, odd as it may be."
"Th-Thank you, Chrom!" Robin smiled.
"So, how about it?" Chrom grinned. "Will you two join us?"
"I go where my sister goes," Corbin shrugged. "For some reason, I feel like I'm supposed to never leave her side."
"That's a part of being a sibling," Chrom smiled. "Robin? What about you?"
"I'll join," Robin nodded, smiling. "And hopefully we'll find a way to restore me and Corbin's memories."
Chrom nodded.
"Did you notice, milord?" Frederick asked, staring at the dead brigand leader. "The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent."
"Plegian?" Robin frowned.
"What's that?" Corbin asked.
"Plegia is Ylisse's westerly neighbor," Chrom explained. "They send small bands into our territory, hoping to instigate a war."
"And it's the poor townsfolk who suffer!" Lissa added. "Totally innocent and totally helpless!"
"They do have us, milady," Frederick offered. "Shepherds to protect the sheep. Do not get swept up in your anger. It clouds your judgment."
"I know, I know," Lissa sighed. "Don't worry. I'll get used to this."
"But you can't always be there in time," Corbin countered. "It takes time to travel to the location of an attack, not to mention for word of the attack to spread, and by that time, the damage could be done."
"You're right," Frederick nodded. "But it's the best we can do."
Corbin nodded just as a man from the village ran over to offer them a feast and accommodations for the night as thanks for saving them. Lissa was already halfway done giving her requests for her food's preparation by the time she realized Frederick had declined. And after a few minutes of complaints, they were on their way.
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