Chapter 41: Sacred Strength
Hoshidan Military Camp, The Dragon's Gate, Moirai
Year 625
A thin thread of white magic weaved across Roy's face, stitching together the cut carved into his cheek. The wound slowly closed under the magic's soft, gentle warmth, and the skin healed over with no bruises nor scars to speak of.
But the scorching touch of the undead swordsman's golden blade, the divine heat that had been tempered into its steel, still burned at his blood. A painful, lingering reminder of his draconic lineage, one that could not be simply waved away with a common healing staff.
"That seems to be the last of your injuries," the priestess mumbled, almost too soft-spoken for Roy to hear. She bowed at the waist, her short pink hair falling over her timid gaze. "How… um… how do you feel? Better, I hope?"
Roy frowned down at his hands. If he were being honest with himself, then no—he didn't feel better at all. Heavy fatigue clung to his bones and scratched at his eyes, threatening to drag him into a deep slumber that some part of him, deep inside, feared he might never wake up from. Opening the Dragon's Gate had exhausted all of his physical and spiritual energy, even with the aid of the young dragons and his mother's ring.
And his father…
Roy's frown slid to the cots resting on the other side of the medical tent. His father and his uncle were still unconscious, their faces wrinkled with pain and pale as death. Guilt clawed at Roy's chest, anxiety gnawed at his heart: a nauseating combination that did nothing to alleviate the oppressive weariness already weighing down his body.
If Roy had been stronger, if he had been better prepared for the fight he had blindly dragged his father and his friends into…
He could have done more to protect everyone.
"I'll be fine," Roy finally said to the priestess, slowly sliding off the medical stool. "Thank you for your help, Lady…?"
"Sakura," the priestess said, bending forward into another stiff, respectful bow. "Princess Sakura of Hoshido."
"Princess?" Roy's spine instantly snapped up straight despite his exhaustion. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I should have—"
"There's nothing to forgive." Sakura offered a shy smile. "In this tent, I am but a simple priestess, here to tend to the camp's wounded. Nothing more."
"You're too humble, Princess," Roy said, attempting a bow of his own. The movement strained his back, but all of the noble etiquette training Lady Cecilia had drilled into him as a young boy won out over the slight pain. "Without your magical talents, I'm not sure my father would have survived his injuries. I owe you a debt that can never be repaid."
"I-I'm just happy I was able to help." Sakura hid a faint blush behind her golden staff. "That's why my siblings and I set up this camp, after all: to aid, heal, and protect those who have been targeted by the invisible soldiers, both here and in worlds beyond our own. We've been dealing with them for several years now, so it's only right that we—"
"Years?" The weight of Roy's fatigue somehow grew even heavier, dragging his shoulders down into a slump. It had only been a few days since the undead army's first attack on Elibe, and Roy was already feeling overwhelmed by their ever-looming presence. "You've been fighting them for that long?"
Sakura bit her bottom lip and nodded. "They killed our mother, the Queen, many years ago. Ever since then, our allies from both Hoshido and Nohr have suffered random attacks by similar shadows, but—until recently—they were never too difficult for us to defeat." She sighed, dropping her arms over her skirt. "Now, they've been appearing more frequently, with stronger ranks and in greater numbers than we've been able to handle on our own. And when they came for Corrin, we couldn't—I couldn't—"
Her breath hitched, brown eyes watering as her lips caught on the name. Roy politely glanced away, focusing instead on the shallow rise and fall of Eliwood's chest while the princess dabbed away her tears.
"We set up this camp with the power of the Dragon Veins to help ward them off, as well as any other would-be intruders," Sakura mumbled. "But Shigure knows more about the invisible soldiers than I do. He can tell you whatever you want to know." She hung her head again, hiding her eyes beneath her bangs, and scooped up a bundle of fresh bandages, herbs, and salves. "He and my brother wanted to speak with you anyway, once you were feeling better. Something about you and the Dragon's Gate—and your sword, I think. Your friends have already gone ahead to talk to them."
Roy's frown returned to the cots. To the stump of Nils's leg and the rough scabs littering his back; to the dark circles cradling Eliwood's eyes and the electric burns—courtesy of Armads—peeking through his blood-stained bandages. His father hacked up a thick, hoarse cough, one that sounded frighteningly similar to the one that had left him bedridden in Pherae for months on end.
A sound Roy had never wanted to hear again.
"They'll be okay," Sakura assured him, shuffling over to Eliwood's cot with the medical supplies in hand. She scrubbed away the last of her tears and screwed open a jar of ointment, immersing herself again into her role as physician and priestess. "The worst has passed, but I'll keep a close eye on them. If anything about their condition changes, or if they wake up while you're meeting with my brother, I'll make sure you're the first to know."
Roy swallowed against the dryness building in his throat, against the worry threatening to crush his chest. He wanted nothing more than to stay here with them, with Nils (the uncle he never thought he would have a chance to meet), with Eliwood (the father he had already been forced to leave behind once before)…
But Roy was a soldier, and he had a job to do.
"Thank you, Princess," Roy said quietly, dragging himself away from the cots. "I'll leave you to your work."
After readjusting his headband and hooking the Binding Blade's sheathe back onto his belt, Roy pulled back the flap of the medical tent. He allowed himself one last glimpse of his family, steeled his heavy heart, then left the tent without another word.
Back to his duties. Back to war.
The sun sat high over the military camp, so warm and bright Roy needed to shield his bleary eyes as they struggled to adjust to the sudden change in lighting. Flocks of pegasi roamed the skies, patrolling the woodland borders of the camp and casting winged shadows over the crowd of foot soldiers, mages, and merchants bustling through the camp below.
Roy blinked, wide and slow, as a man riding a mechanical puppet clinked past him, followed by two white, fox-like beasts with nine tails, each hauling hefty packs of weapons and rations on their backs.
Puppets and mutated foxes, being used in place of horses? Roy wasn't sure if he should be intrigued by the camp's ingenuity or disturbed by the bizarre nature of it all.
"He's back!"
Roy had only taken a total of ten steps out of the medical tent before a familiar ice dragon pounced on him, slamming her full weight into his chest and knocking him right off his feet. The hard dirt bit into Roy's back, making his sore body flare and ache, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed or upset. How could he be, with those large, round, puppy dog-like eyes beaming down at him?
"Oracle-Child! Oracle-Child!" the young dragon giggled. She bounced atop his chestplate, the scales of her sky-blue tail catching every angle of the sun. "Finally! We've been waiting for you to wake up for forever!"
Roy propped himself up onto his elbows. "We?"
As if on cue, all the other young dragons they had rescued from the army of the dead scurried over and piled onto his chest. Small as they were, their combined weight on his torso was enough to push him back into the dirt. They all giggled with mischievous, but endearing, glee.
What was not endearing was the little fox pup who trotted over to join them and, eyes twinkling with curiosity, began to nip at his hair. The sharp teeth of a wild animal, way too close to his face.
"Come play with us!" the young ice dragon begged. "We've been chasing birds with Miss Myrrh and Selkie, and playing tag with the little humans. We thought all humans were scary and mean, but some of them are actually nice, like Shiro and Kiragi." Playfully, she batted his chin with the dull side of her claws. "Come on, you should join us! It's so much fun!"
"I'm glad you've made some new friends," Roy said, gently nudging the fox pup away and shifting the young dragons off his chest, "but as much as I'd like to, I can't play right now. There's someone I need to meet with first—"
"One of the big humans?" a little fire dragon asked. When Roy nodded, the dragon huffed out a puff of black smoke and said, "They're boring. All they do is argue with each other. Not worth the Oracle-Child's time."
"Arguing?" Roy sat up and furrowed his brow. "Who's arguing?"
"Your traveling companions and Prickly Prince!" the fox pup answered, and Roy nearly jumped out of his skin. The foxes here could talk, too? "Prickly Prince and Loud Banana Man freaked out when they saw each other, then Purple Hunter Lady's wyvern tried to bite the prince's face off. He and Teal Spear were not happy about that, and neither was my Daddy."
The heavy exhaustion hanging over Roy's mind made it difficult for him to process what exactly the fox was trying to tell him. 'Loud Banana Man'—was she talking about Odin? The 'Purple Hunter Lady' was probably Petra, which meant… that…
Oh no.
"Petra's wyvern attacked the prince?!" Roy shot up to his feet, ignoring the sore pangs of protest that went throbbing through his knees. "Why? Where are they now?"
"The command tent," the fox said. "But Daddy said to stay away from there, so we've been playing here instead."
"Then could you show me the way, at least?" Roy asked, panic edging at the base of his throat. Gods, the last thing they needed right now was infighting, especially after their close-call beyond the Dragon's Gate. "I need to make sure everyone is okay, and calm things down if I can."
Before someone does or says something they're going to regret.
"Mhm," the fox hummed. "No problem, we can take you there." She grinned, her little fangs glinting with a mischievous sheen. "But only if you promise to play with us later."
Roy frowned down at her. "I don't really have time for—"
"Oh, and you have to do one of the fun rituals the Oracle used to perform for us!" the young ice dragon added. The other dragons thumped their tails against the ground in agreement. "When Nils is better, he can play his flute and you can dance, just like Miss Ninian always did. Please?"
"But I don't remember any of her—" Roy huffed out an exasperated groan and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He didn't have the energy, nor the patience, to argue with children. "All right, fine. If you take me to the command tent, we can play a round of hide-and-seek later and I will… try… one of my mother's dances. Does that sound fair?"
With a nod and a satisfied giggle, the young dragons and the fox pup darted off down the camp's central pathway, motioning for Roy to follow with a collective swish of their tails. They weaved between scuffed boots, clinking puppets, and creaking cartwheels as they cut through the crowd, almost causing a few people to trip and a few carts to stall in their hurry. Already growing more comfortable in the presence of humans, it seemed, for better or for worse.
Roy sighed and trailed behind them, ducking his head away from the slew of glares and grumbles being thrown at the children and, by association, Roy himself.
Two near-accidents later, the fox pup veered off the main pathway and bounded up a short hill. A white, circular tent rested at the top of it, each flap emblazoned with a crimson emblem that Roy guessed belonged to Hoshido's royal family. Golden tassels and silver wind chimes hung off the top lip of the tent, fluttering and singing with the sky's gentle breeze.
The music whistling through the chimes, however, was largely drowned out by the snapping and snarling of an angry wyvern—Petra's wyvern, chained down in the grass outside of the tent. Sharp fangs screeched against metal as the beast chomped down on its restraints, thrashing its head to try to shake itself loose. The chains refused to break.
A nine-tailed fox of equal size circled the wyvern's makeshift prison, growling dangerously at its captive's attempts to escape. The wyvern snapped back, undeterred, and continued to gnash its teeth along the chains.
"Here it is," the fox pup whispered up to Roy. She pointed out the tent with her paw and crouched down low alongside the young dragons into the hill's grass. "If you're stealthy enough, you might be able to sneak past Daddy and—"
"Selkie!" The larger fox snapped his head around in their direction; the little pup squeaked as his thin red eyes narrowed on her hiding place. "What are you doing? We told you and your friends to stay on the other side of the camp."
"We've been spotted!" The fox pup darted out of the grass and scrambled away. "Run! Scatter! He can't catch us all!"
The young dragons squealed with delight, prancing and rolling and sliding down the hill after her. To flit about with so much carefree, boundless energy, even after barely escaping the violence and peril of the world beyond the Dragon's Gate… these dragons were really something else.
Roy's sluggish, human limbs ached with the slightest tinge of jealousy.
The nine-tailed fox shook his head at the children's antics, a strikingly paternal gesture, then turned his red gaze to Roy. "You're here to see the prince, too, I take it?" he asked. Ears twitching, he sniffed the air and added, "Another traveler from the Outrealms?"
Outrealms? Roy didn't really know what that meant, but he could hazard a guess. "I came through the Dragon's Gate not too long ago, if that's what you're asking. And just now, from the medical tent." He straightened out his back and masked his exhaustion behind a diplomatic smile. "Princess Sakura said her brother has requested my—"
"Go ahead." The fox shrugged his thin shoulders and licked the dirt off his paw. "Your friends are already inside. Just don't attack anyone, and try to keep things civil, okay?" He plopped down on his haunches and tossed his nose toward the chained wyvern, huffing his discontent. "All this drama is cutting into my grooming time."
"I'll, uh…" Roy cleared his throat and nodded, slow and wary. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."
The fox replied with a heavy sigh and waved Roy into the command tent with a swipe of his bushy tails.
"We cannot be trusting him," Petra was hissing under her breath as Roy stepped through the flaps of the tent. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and her fierce eyes glared daggers at a silver-haired man sitting across from her at the head of the war table. "This is more trickery by the enemy. Another trap, like the ambush in… in the place we cannot be naming."
"How many times must I repeat myself before it gets through that thick skull of yours?" the silver-haired man grumbled, rubbing his temples. "I. Am. Not. Dead. Never have been, and don't plan to be for a very long—"
The man left the words hanging in his mouth as his gaze slid to the tent's newcomer. The rest of the eyes around the war table were quick to follow, all settling on Roy with varying degrees of relief and suspicion.
"Roy!" Lilina shot up from her seat, nearly knocking the chair off its legs. She hurried to his side and took his hands into her own, a kind, loving gesture that sent a flush of warmth crawling up Roy's neck. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "You're supposed to be resting. Recovering your strength after all that—"
"I'm fine, Lilina," Roy said. Splotches of faint, purple bruises curled around her wrist—a consequence of Roy's brief lapse of control, of the mindless rage that haunts the blood of all dragons—and Roy pulled away, ashamed. "Really. I'm just a bit tired, is all. It's nothing I haven't had to push through before."
Lyn frowned at him from her chair, clearly unconvinced, but whatever concerns she had running through her mind, she didn't give voice to any of them.
"Even so, thank you for joining us, Roy," a familiar man with teal hair said. Ephraim, if Roy's hazy memories of their last moments at the Dragon's Gate were to be trusted. "Now that you're here, perhaps we can stop wasting our time with this worthless argument"—Ephraim threw a pointed look toward both ends of the war table—"and start discussing something that actually matters."
The woman sitting next to Ephraim huffed at the caustic tone, admonishing him with a hard elbow to the side.
"This is mattering!" Petra insisted. She rocked up from her chair and dug her palms into the war table, pinning her glare once again on the silver-haired man. "He is one of the generals who has been attacking us! He shot down my wyvern in that—that place, to be separating us from our friends!" Her nails bit into the table's wooden edge. "If you have been hurting any of them, I swear upon the Flame Spirit—"
"I haven't done anything to anyone," the silver-haired man snapped back. "I don't know your friends—and frankly, if they're anything like you or your vicious wyvern, I don't ever want to know them."
A girl with a blue scarf and pointed ears tried to intervene, nervously whispering, "Uncle Takumi—"
"If there's anyone you should be suspicious of," Takumi ignored her and continued to press, shooting an accusatory glare across the table, "it's him. Odin, wasn't it?"
Odin fidgeted in his seat, uncharacteristically quiet. His expression was tight, pale, distant, like he had just suffered a frightening encounter with a terrible ghost.
If the context of this argument was anything to go by, though… perhaps that was exactly what had happened.
"The eccentric Nohrian mage? The man who served as Prince Leo's retainer during Nohr's war to conquer and subjugate all of Hoshido? That Odin?" Takumi didn't pause for Odin—or anyone—to provide an answer. "That's funny, because I'm pretty damn sure that Odin died on the battlefield for his mad tyrant of a king. So if you want to accuse someone of being a dead man or an agent for the invisible soldiers, look no further than—"
Ephraim slammed his fist down onto the table. The wood splintered with a dangerous crack, putting the argument to a swift and sudden end. A tense, silent apprehension filled the tent, and no one dared a breath as Ephraim rose to his feet, his fragile patience breaking just as readily as the table under his knuckles.
Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw Lyn's hand quietly slide across her lap to the hilt of one of her sister-blades.
"My friend, Lyon, is out there somewhere," Ephraim said slowly. "Alone, in danger, and possibly imprisoned by the real enemy. But instead of working on a plan to save him, or Kana's father, or all the other people and dragons who have been targeted by these invisible soldiers"—a new set of cracks split through the center of the war table— "we're stuck in here listening to you all squabble like petty children!"
"What my brother means to say," the woman sitting next to Ephraim said, pulling him back down into his chair, "is that we understand tensions are running high right now. There is clearly a troubled history between a few of you that the rest of us are unfamiliar with, as well as…" She pursed her lips as she searched, carefully, for the right words. "As well as some potential misunderstandings relating to each other's identities and lived experiences."
"Converging worlds, converging timelines," Odin whispered to himself. "The fabric of reality itself unraveling before our very eyes…"
"But hurling insults and accusations at each other will get us nowhere," the woman continued. She glanced around the table, offering a kind smile to every person willing to meet her eyes. "To me, everyone in this tent looks to be alive and well. All of us have been fighting these undead horrors for quite some time now—if anyone here were truly among the deceased, I think we would be able to tell."
"Princess Eirika is right."
Another familiar face spoke up from the far-off corner of the tent: the male pegasus rider Roy had briefly met before passing out. A golden pendant hung from his neck and glimmered with a soft, ethereal light, like the first hint of dawn shining over a quiet lake.
"If anyone here were being influenced by the magic controlling the invisible soldiers," he said, "I would have sensed it by now." His single visible eye slid to Odin's side of the table. "And believe me, I have checked many, many times."
"Doesn't change the fact that he shouldn't be alive," Takumi muttered. "You weren't there, Shigure. It's because of scum like him that Azura—"
"My mother died protecting her friends, her family, and her world from something far more sinister and far more dangerous than Nohrian cruelty. She died to ensure the Yato would have a wielder for the enemy she knew was coming—the same enemy we now face." Shigure's sharp, golden gaze pierced into Takumi's brown. "I won't waste her sacrifice because of a personal vendetta. Will you?"
Grinding his teeth, Takumi shook his head and sank back into his chair. Petra muttered something in her native language, face tight and stiff with suspicion, but she too returned to her seat without further argument. The rest of the table released a quiet breath of collective relief.
Well, everyone except for one.
"You…" Odin asked slowly. "You're really Azura's son?"
When Shigure nodded, Odin tapped his fingers on the table and mumbled, "So the Azura we spoke to before wasn't our own, but rather… one from a split path in the timeline, where only a few slight differences changed the course of history…"
"Pardon?"
"Distorted reflections sitting on either side of reality's mirror, both existing in parallel. Which means…" Odin's face lit up, his usual exuberance returning in full swing. "Of course! It all makes perfect sense!"
"It most certainly does not." Ephraim's eye twitched as he curled his hand into a tight fist over the table. "Just get to the point."
"That is the point!" Before anyone could even attempt to ask for clarification, Odin hopped up from his seat and snapped his fingers in Takumi's direction. "Prince Takumi—can I call you Takumi? 'My lord,' perhaps?"
"No."
"His Royal Highness, the wild, sharpshooting Prince of Hoshido" —Takumi groaned into his hands— "has called us here for a very important meeting. We haven't been able to actually start that meeting, but if I were to guess, you were planning on telling us about the Yato, right? To explain how that sword, and its unique ability to draw power from other divine weapons of legend, is the key to defeating the villainous force controlling the army of the dead?"
Cautiously, Takumi nodded.
"But the divine weapons of this world, such as your magical bow and your brother's lightning sword, were lost in your battles against the invisible soldiers. The same battles that also resulted in the sudden disappearance of the Yato's wielder: Corrin."
Baffled, Takumi's head snapped up from his hands. "How did you—"
"So now, Corrin's child, Kana, has been forced to take up the Yato in her father's place. And to help her unlock the blade's true power, you have joined forces with heroes from the Outrealms who possess sacred weapons capable of strengthening the Yato to its full potential." Odin grinned and slid behind Ephraim and Eirika, drumming his fingers along the back of their chairs. "Heroes like the mighty Restoration Twins of Renais!"
Eirika smiled up at him. "I don't know if I would call myself 'mighty,' but that title does have a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
"I still don't understand what the point of all this rambling is," Ephraim grumbled.
"The point is that I already know all of this because it's exactly what happened in my world!" Odin said. "We were attacked, our divine weapons were lost, and our Corrin suddenly disappeared. Except the Corrin I know is a woman, and her Kana is a boy." He scratched his chin. "Oh, and I am very much alive in that world, while His Royal Highness, the wild, sharpshooting Prince of Hoshido is very much… uh… not."
Takumi frowned at that, but for the first time since Roy had stepped foot into the command tent, it seemed like he was actually listening to what the other side of the table had to say.
"And how did the mighty Restoration Twins come to find themselves in a Hoshidan military camp?" Odin asked. "Let me guess: it had something to do with Kana?"
"Yes, actually," Eirika said. "We met both her and Shigure in our world. My brother and I were preparing to confront our friend, Lyon, in the Darkling Woods, before he could attempt to awaken a monster known as the Demon King, Fomortiis—"
"Something he was being forced to do," Ephraim added, "after the Demon King's spirit took possession of his body."
"Right," Eirika nodded. "But as we began our march, we spotted a horde of those invisible soldiers chasing Kana and Shigure into the forest. They were trying to capture her, as well as kill manaketes like our friend, Myrrh, who live in the Darkling Woods. But then Kana transformed into a dragon, and it took quite a bit of effort on all our parts to calm her down…"
"That is similar to what was happening in my world," Petra said, awestruck. "With the other Kana. But the invisible soldiers also were attacking our monastery and our professor, and later taking away Lady Rhea, too."
"Just like Lyon, then." Ephraim rapped his knuckles against the table. "They ransacked the Black Temple he was hiding out in, and by the time we reached its doors, he was already gone." His mouth tightened into a thin line, eyes downcast. "Too late to save him. Again."
"Which is why we set off to find him alongside Kana and Shigure," Eirika said softly, "and, ultimately, is the reason why we're sitting here today."
"Exactly!" Odin clapped his hands together. "Do you see it now? Two timelines, two imperfect—but similar nonetheless—reflections of each other, now converging into a single, unified path. A stronger path." He spun over to Kana's chair and waggled his fingers over her head. "Because with these two overlapping timelines, we get…"
"Two Yato blades," Shigure finished for him, a hint of a smile breaking over his stoic demeanor, "and two versions of Kana to wield them."
Odin grinned and bowed with a dramatic flourish of his arm. "And just as it was prophesied by the stars, the Mystical Sorcerer of the Black Abyss, Odin Dark, has enlightened the masses with the deepest secret of the universe." To himself, he whispered, "Gotta remember to thank Laurent for all those lectures on cosmological theory…"
Kana sat forward in her seat, brushing her fingers over the hilt of her sword. "Do you think that will be enough?" she asked quietly, hopefully. "Me and… other me… we can really save everyone?"
"I'd like to think so," Shigure said. He wrapped his fingers around his golden pendant, his grip tense and uncertain. "Two Yatos at their full strength, together with the song my mother taught me… it's more than what she said we would need to face the mastermind behind all of this. But…"
His hand fell to his side.
"But the dead have been growing stronger, hardier, and more numerous by the day. They heal faster than our weapons can hurt them, and my song can now only stop them for a few seconds at a time. Who can say they won't start developing a resistance to the Yato's power, too?"
"Then we can't give them that chance," Lyn said, speaking up for the first time. "We have to hit them hard, and we have to do it quickly. Destroy the source of their power with everything we've got before they can prepare a means to retaliate."
"Everything we've got is not all that much," Takumi said. "We have one Yato here, sure, but right now we only have two sacred weapons that can—"
"We have three."
Kana stood slowly from her seat, holding her sword out for the rest of the tent to see. The blade was bathed in a gentle, yellow sheen, with faint wisps of razor-like flames sprouting along the steel's edge. Above the sword's crossguard, three of the four empty slots embedded into the blade lit up in a blaze of burnished gold. The lance strapped to Ephraim's back, and the sword hanging off Eirika's hip, were soon enveloped in the same ethereal colors, both weapons pulsing with pure, radiant power.
Lilina tugged on Roy's elbow. "Roy, look…"
Roy glanced down to where she was pointing—his belt—to find that the Binding Blade, too, had taken on the Yato's golden glow.
"Of course!" Odin gasped, his voice bordering on breathless. "The Binding Blade, the Flaming Sword of Seals, is one of the most powerful weapons in all of recorded legend. Of course it would be able to resonate with the Yato!"
Roy cautiously drew the sword from its scabbard, twisting it this way and that, watching in wonder as the golden lights followed the blade's every movement. He knew the sword was a powerful one, a weapon said to rival the strength of all Elibe's Eight Legends combined… but "all of recorded legend" seemed a tad hyperbolic.
"We only need one more, then," Shigure said, tapping the last empty slot sitting on Kana's blade. "One more weapon, and this Yato will be at its full strength."
"And the other one?" Eirika asked. "The Yato of your world, Odin. How close is it to completion?"
Odin scratched the top of his head. "Well, we had two compatible weapons at one point, but after we walked into that ambush…" He sighed, dragging his hand down his face. "Honestly, I have no idea. I'm really, really hoping they returned to Nohr in one piece after we were separated from them, but it's possible that… that they didn't make it out."
"Then that's the first place we need to check." Takumi stood up from the table and snatched a silver bow off the tent's weapon rack. "If your world—timeline, reality, whatever—has a Dragon's Gate like ours, we should be able to travel between the two fairly easily. The sooner we find your allies and secure this alternate Yato, the better."
"And if we can't?" Lyn asked. A difficult question, but one that unfortunately needed to be asked. "If we can't find them or this special sword, what then?"
"We gather the allies, weapons, and resources we do have," Ephraim said, taking his glowing lance into hand, "and destroy as many undead bastards as we can. Their leader too, if we can manage it."
Destroy. The word left a cold, bitter taste in Roy's mouth. He wasn't naïve—one way or another, they needed to put a permanent end to the invisible soldier threat, he knew that. And yet…
Blue eyes, wide and frightened and desperate, staring at Roy through the smoke. The eyes of a man in pain; the eyes of a man in need of help.
"Roy?"
Lyn's voice snapped him back to reality. She had abandoned her seat; the rest of the table appeared to be doing the same behind her, hurrying out of the tent to ready the Dragon's Gate and prepare themselves for the hard, dangerous trials ahead. Petra's wyvern, too, was slowly being released from its chains, on the promise that she would keep it under tighter control.
"Are you okay?" she asked. "Tell me honestly. If you need more time to rest, I'm sure Eliwood and Nils wouldn't mind the company—"
"It's not that, Lady Lyndis."
For a moment, Roy was tempted to tell her everything. Tell her about how the man with the golden blade had tried to speak to him, if only briefly. About the Binding Blade's white flames and their attempts to fight the darkness controlling him, like the centuries-old legend of Hartmut using the same sword to seal away the dark power of the Demon Dragon, bringing an end to the Scouring.
It didn't feel right to keep what he had seen to himself… but Lilina was right there, holding on to Roy's arm with her bruised wrist, and he didn't want to hurt her more than he already had. Twice now, she had suffered the horror of fighting her father's reanimated corpse. If he told her that a remnant of Hector's soul might be trapped inside that puppet after all, stuck in an endless cycle of powerlessness and pain…
It would devastate her. Or, it would fuel her desperation to help him, and make her more vulnerable to harm should Hector be forced to attack them again. It could make all of his allies more vulnerable, more hesitant, knowing that the undead shadows of their loved ones were more than just the twisted, empty husks they had believed them to be.
Fighting the invisible soldiers was already difficult enough.
"This is all just a bit overwhelming," Roy finally said. Not a lie. "Arguments about who's living and who's dead, discussions about alternate realities and branching timelines… it's a lot to take in at once."
Lilina managed a soft, lighthearted smile. "So much important material Miss Cecilia neglected to teach us during her lectures. We'll have to submit a formal complaint when we return home."
Roy's gaze dropped to the floor. "Yeah."
I'll tell them soon, he promised silently. Once he figured out how to summon those white flames again and how to, if possible, use them to help the shadows break free from the darkness, he would tell them.
But until then, it was better not to crush anyone's spirits, or endanger them with a false sense of hope.
"Well, in the meantime," Lyn said, eyeing Roy with a frown, "why don't you two go find something to eat? It sounds like we'll be setting off again soon, so you should take advantage of the time we have now to build up your strength."
"I did see someone on the main road preparing a hearty looking stew," Lilina said. She hooked her elbow around Roy's, cheeks glowing with the faintest hint of pink. "I think they were handing out bowls for free, if you're feeling up to it. A quick but filling meal."
"S-sounds great." The warmth of her arm was almost enough to make him forget about the guilt, the worry, and the terror hanging over them. Almost. "We should probably avoid the main road on the way there, though."
"Avoid it? Why?"
"The dragon children are playing along the main road with a few other kids." Roy scratched the back of his neck. "And I might have promised I would join them after the meeting and… uh…" Quickly, he mumbled under his breath, "Perform one of my mother's dances."
Lilina's smile split into a wicked grin. "Oooh, we're definitely using the main road now!"
"Huh?" A hot-red flush flooded his face as she tugged him out of the tent and down toward the busy street.
"Wai—Lilina!"'
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—
The Dragon's Gate, The Kingdom of Nohr, Moirai
Year 625
The Dragon's Gate lay in ruins.
Stones riddled with arrows. Columns smashed to pieces. Nothing left but smoldering rubble, crumbling archways, and dying light.
The Archer stomped on the final rune carved into the gate's foundation, destroying it beneath his heel. The rune's light faded away, and with it, the last of the gate's ancient magic. Never to be used again by the Nohrian scum, nor by the poor, naïve fools on the other side who might attempt to save them.
No one to interfere with the justice He had promised him.
The Archer turned, scowling at the distant military camp marring the forest's greenery. The Betrayer's spawn—The Boy with The Sword—was hiding in there, cowering behind the Nohrian scum and their magic barrier.
But their wretch of an army was marching ever closer, led by their wretch of a king. The Boy and the Nohrian scum inside the camp would have to open the barrier for them eventually… and when they did…
The Archer would be ready for them.
Character Bios:
Kaden: Nine-Tail
—Head of the Kitsune Hamlet. A rather playful and carefree fox who prizes his fluffy, immaculate tails—and his daughter—above all else. He allied himself with the Hoshidan army after they helped his friend, Layla, and has stuck by their side ever since, because a kitsune will stop at nothing to repay his debts.
—Relations: Father of Selkie.
Sakura: Priestess
—Youngest princess of the Hoshidan royal family. A timid but kindhearted woman with a strong sweet tooth. After helping her family defend their country against Nohrian aggression and topple the tyrannical king Garon, she has devoted herself to healing the sick and the injured, be they soldier or civilian, Hoshidan or Nohrian.
—Relations: Daughter of Sumeragi and Ikona (both deceased). Stepdaughter of Mikoto (deceased). Sister of Ryoma, Takumi, Hinoka, and stepsister of Corrin. Aunt of Shiro, Kiragi, and Kana.
Takumi: Sniper
—Youngest prince of the Hoshidan royal family. A headstrong and blunt man who doesn't easily forget a grudge. For most of his life, he has harbored a deep-seated hatred against Nohr and its king for the kidnapping of his stepbrother, the murder of his father, and later the murder of his stepmother. His travels and war experiences have seen him mature a bit, and he has softened his stance on Nohr slightly over the years. His counterpart, though, was all too easy to sway to our side.
—Former wielder of the Fujin Yumi
—Relations: Son of Sumeragi and Ikona (both deceased). Stepson of Mikoto (deceased). Father of Kiragi. Brother of Ryoma, Hinoka, Sakura, and stepbrother of Corrin. Uncle of Shiro and Kana.
Happy New Year, everyone! I want to apologize again for the longer gaps between chapter updates over the past few months. The second half of 2022 was incredibly busy for me both work and school wise, and I didn't have the time—and sometimes, the brain energy—to work on this fic as often as I wanted to. By the end of the year, I was feeling completely burnt out.
However, I've had some time to recover from that, and things are settling down again as we enter into a new year. I'm hoping that going forward, I can start getting back to a more frequent upload schedule (like every other week or so). No promises, but it's the goal I'm working toward.
Thank you again for your patience and support.
Next chapter: An ultimatum, and a difficult choice.