The day the Shepherds returned was overcast and cool. It had rained the previous night and the Ylissean summer was mild at worst in Nicola's eyes. Being fair, it was rather hard to beat a volcanic hellscape in temperature, so he was somewhat biased. The sun had yet to peek over the horizon, but Nicola could see the dark sky gradually taking on a magenta hue over the distant mountains.

"They should be here at any moment," Phila said, drawing the spearman's attention. "Enough time for us to greet them then get to our morning practice."

Nicola shrugged in response. He had been planning on training a bit later in the day after catching up with the few Shepherds he considered friends. And Frederick, if only to offload Maribelle onto him if that was possible. It was that or see what sort of silliness followed the two of them for the rest of her visit to the halidom had in store for them. Personally, he wasn't interested in getting a third lecture from Phila for being at the wrong place at the right time and causing a third fight in the capital's streets. That was part of why he was training with her in the mornings now, aside from Anna having concluded her business in the area and vanished overnight.

"I would rather not have to follow this oaf as he runs around the palace," Maribelle sniffed, knowing she would have to follow Nicola while he was out and about. She didn't much like running long distances, she had a riding horse for that. "Could we perhaps postpone his punishment until the next day?"

"And allow you both a day of rest after the trouble you've caused? Why, I could never, Lady Maribelle," Phila beamed, her bright smile in direct contrast with her smouldering eyes. She was rather upset with them both, considering they'd caused her a great deal more work by breaking down swathes of the criminal network of the halidom. The issue was that in doing so, they made other parts of the halidom's underworld much more wary and defensive.

"Then surely-"

"I'm rather glad you've volunteered to exhibit your masterful swordplay, Lady Maribelle," Phila interrupted, smiling wider.

The noblewoman chose to not finish her thought, knowing that she would be digging her own grave if she continued. There were very few unstated rules in the halidom: do not anger the Exalt, avoid fighting the church and do not increase the Wing Commander's workload. The first was a surefire way to end up in the dungeons, though one would be generally let off with a slap on the wrist. The second was a good way to end up broken and battered, the church's elites were strong and did not mess around when it came to defending their own. The third was how one ended up participating in the torture that was Phila's Intense Workout Marathon, matched only by Frederick's Fantastic Fitness Hour. Having gone through the former, Maribelle was deeply inclined to not go through the latter. She was not a fan of her bones burning alongside her muscles.

"Phila, I'm certain they've apologized enough. Please do not remain angry with them," Emmeryn yawned. She felt somewhat bad for both Nicola and Maribelle, but she knew where the Wing Commander was coming from. She'd seen the pile of paperwork Phila had to deal with after their first incident and the mountains that followed from the subsequent incidents. Then there were the two brawls they'd been a part of and the work that both of those had added. Needless to say, she could see why her attendant was livid, but the duo had promised not to cause trouble if they could help it. Surely that was good enough?

"I'm not angry with them, Lady Emmeryn." The Wing Commander gave Nicola and Maribelle a near blank look. "I'm simply disappointed in their decision making."

The Exalt winced. That was almost worse in her eyes.

"They're here," Nicola called, peering out into the horizon. Maribelle squinted at him. She was used to some of his oddities after a week with him, but not his senses. Or his brutish strength for that matter. He was always aware of his surroundings, even when he couldn't utilize that awareness to the fullest. He'd also taught her how to perform what he called a 'dropkick' and completely splintered a dummy in the training yard in the process of demonstrating. A training dummy meant to withstand Chrom.

"You are certain? It's not a caravan arriving or anything of the sort?"

"Sir Apollonia is correct, it is the Shepherds," Phila commented. "I would recognize Bastion and Frederick anywhere if I saw them."

"Ah."

"Should we make our way down to greet them?"

"We will meet them at the palace gate," Emmeryn answered. "If I were to go out now, that would cause a large commotion and slow their return. I imagine Chrom would not want that."

"Indeed," Phila nodded. I will say that I'm surprised that he's managed to recruit four to his cause in the time he was away."

"Four you say? Frederick only mentioned two in his missive."

"Knowing your brother, the additions came after Frederickson penned that message."

Emmeryn hummed, then gestured for the group to follow her as she made her way to the palace gate. Along the way Cordelia joined them, tagging along with her superior's permission. Ricken soon followed, floating groggily towards the group in a set of dragon themed pajamas while wearing his mage's hat.

"G'morn," he bubbled, wiping sleep from his eyes as he unevenly bobbed along after them.

The group reached the gate before the Shepherds did and had to wait a few more minutes before the larger group arrived, led by Frederick and Chrom. Sully and Stahl came shortly behind them, flanking them. Robin rode along with Sully, leaning on the red haired knight as she snored gently, while a red haired woman wearing a mage's garb rode with the green haired man. Lissa accompanied Sumia, who rode a majestic pegasus with dusky grey fur and dark mane. Phila and Cordelia both raised eyebrows at that, causing the shy woman to blush and turn away.

In the middle of the group walked Kellam, Virion and the blonde man from before, along with a familiar face to Nicola. He hadn't seen Lon'qu in what felt like ages, even if it had only really been a few months. He'd sent the swordmaster back to his homeland like he had other heroes he'd summoned before the war with Hel really took off. If he was here, that meant that Olivia and Henry and Tharja were here. And Aversa. Or perhaps not. At the very least the trio of dark mages came from the same place and Olivia and Lon'qu had come from the same place. Whether or not that was the actual world was up in the air.

Following shortly behind the swordsman was a youth in a dark blue tunic and beige trousers wearing a pot on his head. Nicola frowned. That was a strange choice if Nicola had ever seen one, but he wasn't one to talk when he considered how outlandish he must have looked to everyone when he arrived. A little further back was another teen wearing a coat nearly identical to Robin's, with a mix of dark and discolored hair, a pale complexion and bright red eyes. Rounding out the group was another Anna, different from the ones he knew. For one, she had the aura of someone absolutely willing to wring every coin from anyone dealing with her. Secondly, she wore a red and yellow garb that vaguely reminded Nicola of a... pierrot? A clown? Some form of jester, but the word he was looking for refused to come to mind. It didn't help that her eyes snapped to him near instantly and refused to leave him.

"Lady Exalt," Frederick greeted as he saw the group. "And I see that Lady Phila, Lady Maribelle, Cordelia, Ricken and Nicola are with you."

"It is good to see that you are well, Frederick."

"Greetings, Frederickson, Prince Chrom." Phila gave a polite bow.

"Well met, Sir Frederick, Lord Chrom." Maribelle inclined her head towards the knight.

"Good morning, Sir Frederick." Cordelia curtsied at the sight of the knight and turned her eyes from the prince at his side, though she stole the occasional furtive glance his way.

"I should have made some tea..." Ricken stifled a yawn as he tried rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Frederick, Chrom." Nicola gave a terse nod to both.

"Nicola," the prince returned as he made his way to his elder sister. He and Emmeryn shared a grand hug, one joined by Lissa a moment later.

"Big sis," the younger woman exclaimed and she squeezed the ruler tightly. Emmeryn gave a happy laugh and patted the princess on the head.

"It is good to see that all of you made it back," the Exalt breathed, looking as if an invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "I was worried when Frederick sent the message about you and your Shepherds fighting in a tournament of sorts, but it looks like my fears were unfounded."

"A tournament isn't going to stop me from doing my best for Ylisse and her people," Chrom smiled. "It was fun, though I'll admit things were near dastardly in the final bout."

"Oh? Was there some form of foul play?"

"Nothing of the sort, my and Robin's opponents were just intense."

"Yeah, they did some form of power manifestation thing and lit up the entire arena with it. Chrom nearly got swept away by it," Lissa supplied. "That Sieg guy was super cool though, even after Chrom took him down. So was Marth."

"Marth? Oh, the one you met before bearing our ancestor's name?" That drew more of Emmeryn's attention, as well as Nicola's and Maribelle's. The former was intrigued: why would the wayward princess be in another nation? The latter growled, less than amused by the princess' descriptions of her brother's opponents.

"Easy there, you'll end up with more grey hairs that way," Nicola whispered, drawing an irate glance from the pink clad noblewoman. She took a deep breath and held it.

"You are quite right," she breathed a moment later. Then she beamed, wine colored eyes flashing as she called out. "Lissa, my darling!"

"Oh, Maribelle!" Lissa broke away from her siblings and rushed to meet Maribelle, crashing into her friend as they met partway. The two embraced and began chatting as the other Shepherds slowly joined in and began talking with all present.

"Hoy, Nicola," Sully shouted when she saw him up and about, dragging the tan man behind her. She gave the dark haired youth an appraising look. "You look better than you did in the forest. I take it you've been training more?"

"Yeah, my routine's gotten a bit more intense now that Phila's helping out." It was that and the new clothes he wore, having bought more over the past month after coming to the conclusion that washing the same two pairs of clothing every other day wasn't very efficient. Having his charge drag her heels after him had actually been beneficial in that regard: no one was willing to spike their prices with her around and she had a good eye for fashion. He wasn't going to admit that to her ever.

"The Wing Commander's training you," the red haired woman shouted, eyes bugging out. "Do you know how rare that is!?"

"Er...very?"

"Try once every other year," the red haired woman sighed. "She's one of the best fighters in the halidom, but says her fighting style when unmounted isn't the most approachable thing. It's why she rarely trains people and yet you're getting training from her? That's... You must have really impressed her then."

"You'd think." Nicola gave a nervous laugh, thinking about how annoyed the blue haired woman was with him. Regardless of her irritation and the validity of it, Sully was correct: Phila was a near peerless warrior. She may not have had the speed or raw power Anna had, but she was fast, flexible and efficient with her movements more often than not. When she didn't want to be, she was light on her feet and incredibly nimble and acrobatic for someone proclaiming to be out of her prime. Also her kicks hurt a lot and she had many types of kicks she'd thrown at him. At least Cordelia was benefitting from the training, even more than she had from Anna. Enough to be snarky with him on occasion.

"'Learn them or avoid them.' she said."

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. Who's the guy behind you?"

"Oh him?" She glanced over to the blonde. "That's Vaike."

"You don't remember Teach," the man exclaimed. "We uh... we met a while ago."

They had? Actually, giving it a bit of thought, Nicola did remember interacting with someone called Teach when he first arrived. It had been around the time he met Ricken for the first time and he'd been given a talking to about slipping people coinage by the aforementioned person.

"At the baths, no?"

"Yeah, at the baths." Vaike gave a vigorous nod. "Bein' honest, Teach wasn't expectin' to see you here. Expected you to be some merc or somethin'."

There was a bit of nuance on the way the man said 'something' that Nicola didn't quite catch. He didn't give it too much thought, it wasn't the first time he'd not fully understood what someone was alluding to and it certainly wouldn't be the last. That was part of why he ignored the rumors floating around him: he didn't fully catch some of the implications, but more than that he didn't really care for them; words could be harmful to a person, but they had to be able to strike a chord with the person they were pointed at. These did not, not with him at least.

Regardless of that, he shook Vaike's hand and promised he'd spar with him and Sully another day. It wasn't as if he had much better to do as his research hit a wall. He also needed to get stronger if he was going to go through with his plan, so facing others with different fighting styles and techniques would be beneficial. There was that and needing time to plan for his departure from the halidom.

The former summoner put a pin in that thought as he moved to mingle with others while the procession was brought further into the palace walls. He was able to catch a few snippets of conversations, like Chrom apparently winning a tournament and there having been more Risen attacks along the road to and from Regna Ferox, but he was just as quickly pulled into conversations with others.

"Howdy, mister," the pot-helmed youth greeted in one such moment, offering Nicola a sheepish look. "The name's uh Donnel. Nice to meet you."

"A pleasure, Donnel," the spearman returned. "I'm Nicola, no fancy title or 'mister' needed. I'm just a spearman."

"'Just a spearman'," he heard Maribelle mock from afar. The dark haired youth sent a glare her way and was met with a haughty look. His adversarial charge knew he wouldn't call her out around a large group of people, let alone near her best friend or the Wing Commander. He'd have liked nothing more than to call out the brutishly strong woman, but it wasn't the time or place. Besides, she'd swapped her bloodied parasol out for a clean one after reluctantly—effectively—using it as a weapon against the second group of ne'er-do-wells that attacked them. As it turned out Maribelle had each of her parasols made to order and one of the specifications was having them at least as sturdy as a steel beam.

"Nice to meet you si- I mean Nicola." Donnel nodded quickly, the pot on his head struggling to stay on.

"Likewise. If you ever need any help and I'm free for it, let me know."

"Will do, sir!" The younger man gave a deep bow before he moved on.

Nicola was unsure why Chrom recruited the young man, but the prince likely had a reason for it. He wasn't sure what the prince's reasoning was in the slightest, but he'd recruited a tactician in the form of an emaciated woman and tried scouting him so he clearly had an eye for talent. The former summoner knew rather well that looks could be deceiving.

By the time the group was fully within the palace, most of the group had split off and gone their separate ways. Most of the knights and riders had grouped up and made their way towards the barracks area to unload their gear, promising to regroup with the others once they rested for some time. Donnel and Vaike followed after them while Sumia and Cordelia went off on their own after being granted permission by the Wing Commander, the red haired woman having given her friend a forced smile that the brown haired woman immediately caught on to. Ricken, Robin, the youth wearing an identical coat to the tactician's and the red haired mage trailed behind as the young mage woke up. The Anna following behind them had broken off to find a place to park her cart while Virion offered to escort her, much to Nicola's relief: she'd been boring a hole into the back of the spearman's head as he rather pointedly avoided her. He wasn't sure why, but he imagined he would find out eventually.

Hopefully later rather than sooner.

Soon all that remained of the group were the Exalt, her siblings, Phila, Frederick, Lon'qu and Kellam. All of them and Maribelle, who still clung to the nation's princess. Nicola rolled his eyes at that, having learned very quickly that Maribelle was enamored with Lissa. When they weren't fighting like cats and dogs or having trouble find them in the halidom—Which they both blamed on the other outside of the scant moments where they got along—the noble woman would wax poetic about the princess and how she was like a bright star in the night sky or a beacon of light in a the middle of a storm. It was just another facet of the noblewoman, one that he respected despite refusing to admit as such to her. It was rare to see one so open with their feelings about another and for said feelings to be genuine and pure. He found it cute in a way, though he buried that faster than he did most things. His charge was not cute or adorable or anything of the sort, she was a menace and he'd have thrown her parasol first into a wyvern if he wasn't certain she'd tame the wyvern and use it to terrorize him.

That was an actual terrifying thought, Maribelle atop a dragon.

You think it looks moderately interesting, enough that you're considering drawing it. She would be rather fetching in such armor, Kiran.

Quiet you. He didn't appreciate the voice at all and it could tell. Unfortunately, Emmeryn hadn't been able to identify the source of it when he brought it up with her. There was apparently another presence within him, which was disconcerting to say the least, but said presence was a much more feral, dark thing. He didn't want to imagine what it was, but he had a distinct feeling he knew the answer regardless.

"Have you been well, Nicola," Chrom asked, slowing his pace to walk beside the spearman. He'd already spoken with his sister, exchanged quick greetings with Maribelle and been given a faint bow by Phila. "Emm said that you were attacked not too long ago. Are you alright?"

"Hm? Oh, I was mostly fine, more than the attacker was at least." He resisted the urge to shudder. He did not like losing control of his strength, even in his own defense. He liked the feel of shredded metal giving way to crushed bone even less. "But enough on that, you fought in a tournament?"

"Yeah. It was full of challenging fights and strong fighters," the the prince chuckled. "Speaking of which, do you know anyone by the name of Sieg, Aria, Lokk-"

"Loki." Chrom blinked at the sheer vehemence with which Nicola spat the name. "Magenta hair, gold headdress, black dress and sultry voice?"

"She did have magenta hair and a black dress, but no head dress so to speak. Her voice was... appealing so to speak."

"Then yeah, that was Loki," Nicola growled. "No idea who this Sieg or Aria is, but I imagine they knew me?"

"They did," Chrom nodded. "Both of them and a woman by the name of Aerie. They had letters for you actually, Sieg and Aerie did at least. Aria was away when the letters were written and Lokke-"

"Loki," Nicola corrected.

"Loki had vanished by that point."

Chrom didn't like the way Nicola stopped and smiled at that. It wasn't a happy smile or a kind smile in the slightest. It was the same sort of smile Emmeryn gave when she was angry, far too sharp and frigid to be genuine. It was clear that he and this Loki had some form of bad history, enough for him to curse the name at the bare minimum.

"Ah." Correction, they had a terrible history with one another. Chrom didn't even want to ask what had happened between them, he had a feeling he'd be subject to a long rant or worse.

"Moving on," the prince unceremoniously changed the topic, handing Nicola a letter and a decently sized parcel. "These are the letters that Sieg and Aerie had for you. They both said that the contents were for your eyes only, much to Frederick's chagrin."

"He didn't want them sneaking in something that could potentially endanger you, Lissa or the Exalt I imagine."

"Indeed, especially Sieg's package." He gestured to the parcel. "He wasn't happy delivering a mysterious object anywhere near Emmeryn or the palace. There are stories of such things being cursed or marred by ill-intent given form and lead to the fall of kingdoms."

"The story of Ganglari comes to mind."

"Oh? You know that tale?" Chrom raised an eyebrow. That was a particularly old cautionary tale, one that had been repeated to him quite often when he was a child and brought home anything and everything he found interesting. It was the second in a set of twelve stories about a land lost to history, telling the story of a once lost prince finding his way home. The prince, long thought dead, returned after many years in a foreign land to his family, bearing a cursed blade. When the prince met his mother, the cursed blade shattered in a terrifying burst of dark magic and slew many people in the area—his mother included.

"A friend told it to me years ago," Nicola replied, tone sharp from cool anger. He clearly realized this as he chose to take a moment before continuing. "He was incredibly familiar with the full tale and could recite it with enough emotion and detail that you would have believed he'd lived through it."

Anger gave way to soft melancholy, the sharp and frigid smile he wore moments before melting into a warmer, distant smile. Chrom felt those were likely the most honest expression he'd seen from Nicola, aside from the raw indignation he'd seen during the attack on Southtown and when Lissa fell or the sadness when he admitted that his friends had died. He hadn't seen real happiness or joy from the spearman, though he also hadn't been around him for nearly two months.

In a way he was like Lissa. He kept his real emotions to his chest, save for the few moments when they were too strong to hide. At least, that was what the prince's instincts said and they were rarely wrong. He still felt that Nicola would make a fine Shepherd, though he'd likely be distant like Lon'qu was. The prince looked to the quiet swordsman and found him approaching for once. That was different, the swordsman tended to stay away from others unless first approached.

"How are you Lon-" The swordsman brushed past the prince with a grunt of acknowledgement.

"You," he stated to Nicola. "Why are you here, Summoner?"

Summoner? Wait, did Nicola know the-

"When I know the answer to that question, Lon'qu, I will inform you and everyone else asking me the same question," Nicola replied smoothly, answering the prince's question. "I'd be far more worried about Loki being here than me at this point."

"The witch is being looked into," the swordsman returned, giving the spearman a sharp look. "That doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't be here."

"Or the fact that I'm here, regardless of wanting to be or not."

Chrom nearly stepped in as the two stared at one another, but stopped when the two warriors nodded at one another then shook hands.

"It's good to see you again, even if you being here means I should expect the heavens and earth to switch places."

"So long as your sword arm is as good as I remember it being, that shouldn't happen."

"Wait, how do you two know each other," Chrom asked.

"We fought alongside each other, but he had to return home with his charge before things got especially bad."

"You speak as if fighting an immortal tyrant in his molten kingdom wasn't poor, Summoner." This was the most he'd heard Lon'qu speak since they'd met. The swordsman was a master of short, curt answers and sharp glares when he didn't feel like answering. Hearing him speak full, long sentences made Chrom wonder if this was the same person who'd been traveling with him for the past month.

"Not compared to what followed that bastard."

Chrom opened his mouth to speak, but words failed to form. They'd done what now? What kind of place was Zenith if an immortal tyrant wasn't 'especially bad'? Then again, Nicola did want to kill someone who referred to themselves as a god, which was more than likely worse. The prince could tell that was going to be a loaded conversation when they ultimately had it.

Eventually Phila called to both Nicola and Maribelle, the latter frowning deeply as the former gave a resigned sigh. The trio bid the remainder of the group farewell, just in time for Cordelia and Sumia to reappear and for the red haired pegasus rider to join them. From what Chrom gathered, Phila was training the three of them or Nicola and Cordelia at the very least. He offered Naga a silent prayer, hoping that the Wing Commander wasn't as rough a trainer as Frederick could be.

When Nicola made it back to his chambers, he was sore all over and felt like he'd been kicked by a horse several times. He hadn't been, but Phila's kicks felt like what he imagined being kicked by one did. Her falling axe kicks that used her spear for leverage were going to leave bruises for a few hours at least, but he had learned something: he wasn't being creative enough without his mirages.

He knew he couldn't rely on them for everything and Phila made sure he didn't use them in any sparring sessions he had under her watch. The Wing Commander considered them a valuable tool and was glad that he was getting better at using them, but she told him they would become a crutch if he relied on them too much. He agreed with her on that and that he needed to get better at fighting without them. Unfortunately that meant exploring his flexibility and maneuverability far more than he liked. He needed to treat his spear as more than an extension of his body, he needed to treat it as if it was a core part of his being. The fact that Phila had caught that surprised him, he hadn't expected anyone to notice the minute disconnect he felt when using his spear. It was far less apparent with Demna—His commissioned and finally named spear—in hand, but the Wing Commander had still pointed it out. He would need to work on that considering how important it would be towards his end goal.

He wasn't fixating on his training to distract himself from Loki being somewhere in the world and likely stirring up trouble. He wasn't doing that in the slightest. That had been on his mind since Chrom mentioned her being in Regna Ferox then vanishing and it was going to drive him up the wall if he didn't keep himself busy. Sadly, he wasn't in shape to go through another round of training with Phila and he wasn't going to have a round with Vaike or Sully while he wasn't near his best. That left returning to the archives and banging his head against a wall or looking at the letters he'd been given. The latter was far more appealing just from the fact that he wasn't going to be reading about the apparently bloody history of another land distantly related to Ylisse.

"May as well start with the smaller one," he mused, picking up the letter from... Aerie? He still didn't recognize the name and he wasn't sure if he was being mistaken for someone else. He should have asked Chrom for more details when he brought them up. He would the next time he saw the prince, but after he figured out whether or not these letters were truly meant for him.

"Let's see..."

"Dear Nicola,

I hope this letter finds you well. I imagine receiving a letter from a person you don't recognize by name, but I felt the same way when I was told you were referred to by a different name from back 'home.' I've been well in the time we haven't seen one another, though I imagine far more time has passed for me than for you.

Regna Ferox has been an interesting place to live, though less exciting than the castle where we met. I can hardly imagine how the harsh cold in Arena Ferox would have treated you had you been here, though I imagine you would have hated it with how much you disliked the cold. Regardless of that, I learned to fight properly here rather than throw around my raw power thanks to father and Lon'qu, though Lonlon had to work through some of his issues before he did. Speaking of Lonlon, father sent him along with that blue haired prince from Ylisse so I imagine you'll see him soon. Hopefully he can clear more of his trauma with him than he can here.

Oh! Before I forget, Livie says hello and is happy to hear that you're here in her own way. Father also wants to meet you someday and I think you'll get along well. Being honest, I believe he would try to take you in as a warrior for his side of the kingdom, but I also think he'd try to adopt you as he did me. He's a lot nicer than he looks, but he's plenty strong too! Maybe we'll see each other in the near future and the five of us can meet up.

With that said, I've gotten bigger and I'm all grown up now, big brother. I'd call you father, but it's a bit awkward now I think. Still, I hope we can meet again while the world remains peaceful.

Sincerely,

Aerie"

The paper the letter was written on was smudged towards the center, wet with freshly fallen tears. It took Nicola a moment to realize that they were his own. He knew the sender rather well, even with the new name she now used. She wasn't supposed to be here, but he was glad she was. Once he left Ylisstol, making a trek to Regna Ferox just to meet her would be nice.

As he contemplated that, he heard a knock on the door.

"Nicola, are you in?" It was Lissa, he'd recognize her voice near instantly. Did she want to have their talk now? He wasn't quite ready for it, but he could try to be helpful.

"Give me just a moment," he called, wiping his eyes. He quickly put the letter away and ran a hand through his hair. He quickly moved to pinch the bridge of his nose, remembering he'd just gotten back from the palace baths and washing his hair.

Adjust your collar and you'll be fine.

Nicola fumbled with the top of his tunic and folded it down, having not realized it was raised on one side and somehow tucked into itself on the other. He never quite figured out how he managed to do that, but it wasn't important compared to actually opening his door now that he was presentable. Then why was he stalling?

He wasn't nervous, but he felt very unprepared for a serious talk. Maybe it was the idea of allowing the princess into his room? No, the Exalt had been in the chamber before—though she had blasted the door open rather than be invited in. Then what was the issue?

You're afraid you'll be a poor friend to the princess, considering your plans to leave the halidom fairly soon. You're reminded of Sha-

Nicola hated when the voice was right. He also hadn't opened his door yet, which was telling in its own way. Still, he'd already given his presence away so it was a moot point to not open the door and face whatever was to come.

"Good morning, Liss-" Nicola wasn't expecting to be tackled into a hug by the princess. Being fair to Nicola, that wasn't something most people expected. Being fair to Lissa, she hadn't expected Nicola to freeze in response and fall backwards, his legs giving way at the moment of impact.

"G'morning Nico-waah!" The duo tumbled further into the room, stopping when the back of Nicola's head hit the base of his bed with a loud thud. At some point mid fall the former summoner's reflexes kicked back in, enough for him to grab Lissa and prevent her from hitting the wooden frame face first. Once the princess regained her bearings she immediately apologized. "Omigosh! I'm sorry, Nicola! Are you alright!?"

"I'm fine, I was just surprised," Nicola replied, choosing not to make eye contact. "Are you alright, Lissa?"

"I wouldn't have been if you hadn't caught me." At the bare minimum, her face would have been red and her nose would have hurt a lot. "Are you sure you're alright? It sounded like you hit your head rather hard."

"Again, I'm fine. I'll feel it a bit later, but it's not the worst thing that's happened to me."

"Nicola, just because something isn't the worst that's happened to you it doesn't mean it isn't a bad thing." The princess gave him a hard look when their eyes finally met. "Let me check, just in case."

"T-that won't be necessar-'' Nicola was cut off by the princess cupping either side of his face and pushing down. She clearly didn't realize how compromising they looked as they were now or she didn't care. He gravitated towards the former as her hands began to glow with citrine light. Lissa's healing was different from Emmeryn's, far warmer like a hearth or small campfire now that it wasn't coming from her staff. The light was just as gentle as the soothing seafoam aura her sister had, but more lively and bright. It was also distracting him from the princess sitting on him.

"Hm... You're right. You should have had a minor concussion, but your body appears to have already healed itself in that regard," Lissa muttered, shifting her weight as she withdrew her hands. "Then again, you healed rather quickly from that cut to your leg, even after I patched it up with magic." The princess gave a contemplative noise. "You're strange, you know?"

"Strange?"

"Mhmm. I'm not sure what it is about you but you heal faster than you should. There's that and it feels like you're not quite human."

"I'm about as normal as I could be," Nicola didn't quite lie. "At least compared to the people back home."

At the very least he was as strong as most people his age back home, possibly a little stronger. It was his reflexes and the speed at which he could pick up things that made him abnormal.

"And the color changing eyes?"

"The what now?"

"Your eyes change color often. They're normally brown, but they occasionally turn blue or green or amber. Actually they turn amber pretty often, but right now they're closer to tangerine."

"I uh... see." Nicola didn't appreciate how close Lissa brought her face to stare into his eyes. "Lissa?"

"Yes?"

"Could you get off of me please? It's unbecoming?" He didn't know what else to say. A small part of him didn't mind their current position, but he was certain Maribelle would attempt to throttle him if she saw them assuming Chrom didn't.

The princess gave him a look before realization dawned on her. Her face flushed crimson as she pushed off of him and uttered a string of colorful words.

"S-sorry! I didn't notice an-and-"

"T-think nothing of it," Nicola shook his head. "I should have said something sooner."

"B-but if I hadn't knocked you over we wouldn't h-have been in that situation in the first place."

The duo went back and forth, trying to take blame for the incident from the other over several other exchanges before they agreed to shelve the matter and forget it ever happened. By that point, both were red in the face and looking away from one another due to embarrassment.

"So," Nicola began before the awkward tension in the room made it too difficult to speak. "How are you Lissa? Was your visit to Regna Ferox alright?"

"Yeah, though it was a bit too cold for my liking," the princess admitted. "Your coat is far warmer than it looks by the way. I'm surprised you gave it up so easily."

"Think nothing of it," the former summoner dismissed. "I wouldn't have had much use for it here and you looked like you needed it more at the time."

"Thank you for that," Lissa said quietly, "And thank you for putting up with me despite disliking me."

"Putting up with you? You act as if you're unwanted." And where exactly was that dislike idea coming from?

"The way you reacted to my hug, both times. You froze and stopped moving until I let go, then you relaxed."

"That's unrelated to you," Nicola began, then winced as the princess looked down. "What I mean is, that reaction isn't limited to you or directed at you. I'm bad with affectionate contact like hugs or anything beyond a handshake, really."

His heart ached as he spoke. The golden haired princesses came to mind, then Gunnthra, the Commander and Alfonse. Each of them he'd been close to in different ways, whether that be romantically involved as he had been with Sharena or as a close friend or near family as he had been with the others before they died. Then there were the heroes he'd summoned, who he chose to grow to even against Alfonse's advice. Corrin, his brother in arms and overall peacekeeper; Lucina, the warrior princess who hid gentle warmth behind a frosty veneer; Fae, Myrrh and young Tiki, who he'd treated as a cross between younger siblings and children; Mia, who'd been like an energetic younger sister and plenty of others. He'd sent them all home when the battle with Hel became too intense and it became clear that her curse could cross worlds. He wouldn't allow any of them to face that, regardless of their protests.

Then there were the people from his home, his true home. He couldn't recall all of their faces, just that they were important to him and had been his first family. He felt like a monster for having nearly forgotten them over three years. He needed to remember them, just as much as he needed to avenge the Order of-

"Nicola, you're crying."

The spearman blinked, once more feeling tears fall as his emotions ran free. He needed to keep himself together, not break down now. He didn't have the time to breakdown, he could do that when Hel was dead and his fallen comrades were given the memorial they deserved.

"Sorry," he tried, attempting to force the tears away. "I'm normally more put together than this, Sharena. Give me a moment and I'll"

"Sharena?"

He'd screwed up then. He offered a second apology and turned away from the princess, trying to force his tears to stop.

He. Did. Not. Need. To. Cry.

And yet they continued to flow, unbidden by his attempts to stop them. Today really wasn't his day was it?

It appears not, but the day is still youn-

The voice abruptly cut out as he felt Lissa wrap her arms around him from behind. Nicola's body tensed from the action. He resisted the urge to pull away, knowing it would give the wrong impression to the princess. Instead he held still despite the growing anxiety and prickliness he felt rapidly growing and welling up within him.

"Everything will be fine, just relax and breathe, Nicola," Lissa whispered. For the second time in a day he tried not to shudder, clamping down on his emotions as best he could. It wasn't that he didn't want to relax, but that he couldn't. The contact was driving him mad because he couldn't get close to others. He could befriend them, but he had to keep distant or they'd die. They always died or got hurt. He didn't want that to happen, not when he wanted people to be safe and happy. It was unfortunate that he brought them misfortune just by being around. He didn't want a repeat of what happened to Lissa the night they met or a repeat of the final battle against Hel. He didn't want Lissa, Chrom, Robin, Frederick or anyone else to get hurt for being near him or because of him. It would hurt.

It always hurt. He wanted that pain to stop, but he couldn't cut off his heart or emotions.

He was too open, too caring, too willing to give his all for everyone he remotely cared for and that tore into him when he failed. Was it selfish to want the pain to go away? It had to be, nothing else made sense. It made him angry, both glacial and fiery, as much as it made him sad. He didn't want pity, he wanted peace, closure. To not be rejected. To be able to open up to others without endangering them.

He didn't want to hurt them, but he would if he couldn't stop himself. He was a monster after all, human only on the outside. Inside he was a terrible, wounded beast chained to the past by memories he didn't want. He didn't want to remember the pain he'd caused when the monster within him was free, he wanted to remember his family, his younger sister. He couldn't accept that he was just as flawed as other humans, fixating on the things that made him monstrous, evil by nature. Dangerous. Lacking in temperance and direction, not evil. He should have been hated, feared, shunned, but instead he was...

Loved. That hurt him more than any harm he caused. He couldn't understand or accept that—Didn't know how to. But that was fine. If he didn't...

"...remember how to accept care from others, I'll teach you," Lissa finished, tightening her grasp around him. "Just give me time, stay here and let me help you as much as you want to help me. I'll do my best for you, I owe you that much for saving my life. Even then, I... I'd help you regardless. That's part of befriending someone, you know?"

He did, but he wouldn't allow himself to without coercion. Still, if Lissa wanted to help him, he would try to cooperate. He owed that to her along with the story of Zenith. He would just need time, as much as she would. Perhaps more.

"If you need time, that's fine."

Nicola could only nod as the room fell into warm silence. He wasn't sure how long it took for him to finally relax into the embrace, leaning into the princess as she held him. Regardless, they remained together in comfortable silence until the summoner drifted into gentle slumber.

He hardly noticed his dream charm glowing.

He was back in the clearing once more, watching the starry sky decorated by rising petals. The towering crystal spires had bloomed, vibrant silver and citrine chrysanthemums and poinsettias opened to varying degrees. The flowers within the field held a soft glow, their colors shifting and mixing like the glimmering starlight above as they swayed in a phantom breeze.

"Oh, you're here," a familiar voice exclaimed, drawing his attention down to the field itself. He hardly noticed the great tree that sprouted, its colorful leaves rustling in the same breeze he did not feel. Beneath the great boughs and colorful light sat Sharena, smiling brightly at him.

His heart stopped and he lost his footing, only rather than falling he drifted upwards as the colorful world turned on itself. She wore a pure white dress with sleeves that flared out, sky blue leggings and simple white shoes. Her eyes were like translucent emeralds, filled with bright light that could put the sun to shame while her golden hair tinged with pink made gold look like faded copper.

Was this really happening? Was she really here?

"Yup," the princess nodded, floating to him to take his hand. He reflexively pulled away but the warrior princess' grip remained firm. "None of that, you'll hurt yourself or someone else if you keep that up, you know?"

Why was she here? How could she be here?

"Dunno, Kiran. Or would you prefer Nicola? Regardless, I won't be here for very long, your happy place doesn't exactly like me being here."

What? Why? She was his best friend, his closest friend among many. His fiancé who he would have slain a god to save. Except he didn't.

"I died before you could, yeah," she nodded, her smile growing sad. "That's why I can't stay for very long actually. Your happy place doesn't want to accept that and is trying to push me out, so I can't stay for too much longer."

Oh. That was shitty of him, was it not? His dream world not accepting people he truly cared for?

"That's just how things are, Nicola. It's nothing worth beating yourself up over, not when you don't really have control over that. It's the same thing with me dying and everything that happened in the war with the Goddess of Death. There was only so much you could do and, even with how special you are, you're just a single person. Blaming yourself for things you can't control or couldn't stop won't help you move on. You need to. If you don't you'll be stuck like this."

But how could he? If he hadn't faltered and fallen, she would have lived. Hel would hav-

"Don't use her name, even in thought," the apparition of the princess hushed, her unstable form flickering. "Using her name gives her power and further entwines your fate, yours and hers. As things are, she will come for you. I can't tell you when and I can't tell you how, but she will and it will hurt you dearly."

Then he would clo-

"Do not! Closing yourself off from others is how she wins," the princess shouted, holes opening in her form, revealing golden flame. "You need to trust others and open up to them like you are with Lissa. Deepen your bond with them, engage with them and open up to them. That will save you if you cannot draw on the strength needed to defeat her on your own."

He could try that, but what if it failed?

"Then-" The princess vanished, dispersing into golden embers. Then came bitter cold and cruel laughter as the light vanished from the world, like it had his. His consciousness soon followed.

In the depths of the earth and in the far corners of the world gods were rumored to slumber. The tales pertaining to them had been corrupted and warped by time; the identities of the true denizens of the earth long lost or dismissed as fairy tales to scare rambunctious children into behaving. They couldn't have been further from the truth.

Most of the beings that had been considered gods had long perished, their lifeblood spilled and gorged upon by the earth they were thought to slumber in. Two had become a great tree, siblings whose fates were bound by war, strife and the fang of a king. Another had been lost fully to time, their legend erased from the world for fear of their return. One had been a king rather than a god, subservient to the true gods until madness took him as it did his brethren. He found peace by the edge of a queen's fang.

Of the two that remained, only one truly rested within the earth; the other had ascended far beyond what mortals could fathom and could hardly touch the world without great ripples and repercussions. She who rested within the earth did not slumber, she waited. She regained her shattered strength slowly, most lost by her recent awakening and scars of battle from a distant future no longer possible. She was aware of all that went on in her domain, the prayers of her followers giving her sight beyond her singular working eye. The blood of the faithless and sacrifices in her name sustained her, the remains of the fallen king's brethren empowering her.

Soon, she would be able to act and not simply through proxy, servant or twisted prophecy. She would be able to walk among her followers and discipline them—far more than her overly ambitious High Priest. The day she could would be the first day she could begin her move towards dominion of her kingdom: the entirety of the world. Dominion and revenge. She would never forgive the fool who dared mar her divine visage. She would never forgive the one she called brother when she walked among her enemies, the one who saved her children from their cursed blood and stood by her until he could no longer. She would make him suffer as she did and worse.

The seeds had already been planted, in part by her and in part by an interloper from beyond the Gate. She could only hope he enjoyed the rose tinted world he lived in now, her agents would ensure it was drowned in flames and blood soon. All they needed was a single drop of blood in the right place at the right time.

She could only imagine the bloodshed and she would revel in it. It would nourish her and she would enjoy every moment of it.

A/N: Not much to say this time aside from having a whirlwind of two weeks makes writing difficult, but I more or less finished in time. I'm going to try this one more time, hopefully without being ill for half a week and swamped by work for another week, among things. The next chapter will be in two weeks or less, likely less. I know how I want the next few chapters to flow, so they should be relatively simple to write, especially the next one.

With that said, if you do like this story and want to find more stories by other authors for Fire Emblem and other fandoms alike(many more talented than myself by a decent margin), swing by the Fanfiction Treehouse Discord Server (Code: 9XG3U7a). There are plenty of brilliant writers there in the process of telling their own stories or having already told their stories. It's a pretty nice place and there are plenty of chill people willing to talk about writing, gaming and a tonne of other things. They also have a Podcast on Spotify called the Fanfiction Treehouse Podcast and a YouTube channel by the same name (Fanfiction Treehouse) if either interests you.