When Nicola awoke, he knew something was off. He wasn't in an infirmary or room he recognized within the palace. He was in some sort of pearly white chamber with hanging symbols akin to the one Chrom and Emmeryn bore. How odd. Not as odd as being blind in his right eye or feeling sickly and frail, but he would address that once he had a better grasp of his surroundings. His surroundings that immediately shifted.
The pearlescent white walls disassembled themselves, breaking down into numerous small blocks that whirled through the air faster than he could track. Yet the wind did not whip or howl, even as the blocks formed a spindly vortex that reached high into the sky. Then they froze, locked in the shape of a spindly spire that collapsed under its own weight soon after.
As each block touched down, grass and golden bricks replaced them, raining until the once white room was a field of grass and smooth stonework adorned with the occasional flower. In the distance a great tree larger than any other he'd ever seen touched the clouds, its boughs and branches full of prismatic leaves that fell gently in the daylit sky. Hills, mountains and great stretches of green spanned the distance between him and the tree, with settlements and cities just barely visible as it quickly became apparent that the field he stood upon was part of a floating structure.
"It is beautiful, is it not," a woman's voice asked, drawing the former summoner's–
"No, you are the Summoner yet, dear child. The power of Opening resides within you yet, even if you deny it," the voice chided despite the warm lilt it had. "Is it wrong for me to admonish the child who would deny his true self for fear of pain and grief yet unseen? I would say nay, dear child."
"I failed as Summoner," Nicola began, but the voice only tutted.
"You did not, even if you believe otherwise. Unfortunate as it may sound, you were fated to lose to the Goddess of Death that day."
"Fated!?" His blood boiled in his veins at the words. "What nonsense! If I'd been stronger, I could have–"
"Done nothing, dear child. Had you bested her that day, you would have ceased to be and your actions undone by one who toys with the lives of any and all who draw his attention," the voice said patiently. "You were fated to lose everything you had that day, your life included, because you had already broken the game he'd set for you by defeating the Emperor of Flames without sacrificing the Princess of Ice. Had I not intervened with what little influence I had in that realm and the assistance of the gods of Opening and Closing, you would have been lost and unable to realize your true worth."
"My true worth as what? A monster wearing the skin of a man? An unstable mass of power that endangers all I love and care about because of my cowardice!?"
"Your true worth as one who embodies harmony despite the dissonant upwelling you feel within yourself. You are not a monster, dear child. You are nowhere near that far gone, unlike another I know." The voice trailed off. "Perhaps if I had been quicker to reach out to them, I could have prevented their descent into madness."
"Who are you," Nicola finally asked. "I dislike speaking to those who hide their name and face."
"I suppose a modicum of transparency would be of value then, though not for long. I cannot maintain this space and unveil myself at the same time for an extended period," the voice replied as light gathered at the edge of the field. Nicola had to cover his good eye as it grew too bright even for him. "I suppose this will do?"
When the spearman opened his eyes, he saw a tall woman with silvery white hair streaked with faded strands of green that fell past her waist in a loose braid. She looked somewhere around her early thirties but she felt older, graced by a timelessness that seemed to settle into every aspect of her person. Her eyes were bright green with faint laugh lines around them and her smile was motherly. Nicola did not miss the pointed ears tipped with light green scales or the slit pupils.
Her garb was odd, reminiscent of his world rather than the fantastical place they currently resided in. It consisted of beige pants rather than trousers of any sort, with a large looping belt made of gold and what looked to be translucent blue gems further adorned by hanging diamonds. Her top was a jean jacket, something he'd thought went out of style and use ages ago with how fragile the material was, over a pink shirt made of fine scales. A loose transparent ascot draped over her shoulders and brown leather boots completed the garb.
"Huh," Nicola managed. He'd been expecting some grand deific form that radiated power or made it clear what she held power over. Instead, she gave off the vibe of someone who would paint scenic backgrounds in her spare time.
"I much prefer large scale scenic backgrounds, dear child," she replied, as if reading his thoughts. "Just as you take to making portraits and depictions of the sky."
"How much about me do you know..." Nicola trailed off. He still didn't have a name to call the clearly divine being.
"Mother is often what my children call me," she offered. "Regrettably, your expression tells me that you will do no such thing." He most certainly would not, the closest thing he had to a mother had been Queen Henriette and calling her anything resembling that had been an awkward affair, even if she meant well. "In that case, Nagi will do."
"Nagi then," he repeated. The name didn't sound quite right, but he would go with it for the time being. "How much do you know about me?"
"Everything, from how you came into the world to your life before you reached the land of Zenith to your experiences in Ylisse," Nagi answered, her taking on a storied tone as she spoke. Her motherly smile pursed into a frown. "You really should eat more often, you'll become little more than skin and bones or your proper appetite will be whetted and that would end poorly on both accounts."
"I ate more than enough," Nicola exclaimed, flushing with embarrassment.
"That your red haired friend had to often remind you to do so or that one of the two closest to your heart had to often fuss at you over such things says otherwise, dear child," the clearly divine being chided. "Discounting that, I did not call you here to admonish you over your poor eating habits or inability to read the deeper emotions of others. You were brought to this space so that I could offer you both a warning and a suggestion."
"Not an edict or command?"
"You would react poorly to a command, even if it was one you would follow," Nagi said simply. She wasn't entirely wrong there, he didn't like taking orders from people or beings he didn't know or trust. "A suggestion gives you much more leeway and freedom of interpretation."
"Go on then."
"Very well. For the warning I must regretfully inform you that the Goddess of Death will manifest in Ylisse within the next year."
Nicola froze in place before biting out: "What?"
"Her connection to you, the intertwining of your fates, will cause her to manifest within the next year. I cannot give an exact date because she is not a deity from my realm, but I believe you have seven to nine months before she appears at most. For your own sake, I would be ready long before then if I were you," the deity explained. "To that end I offer my suggestion: in the heart of the desert lies a long lost place of worship and within it lies a tool that may grant you the power to face her on even footing, if only for a time. I cannot give an exact location, if only because without the right conditions you would not find the signs I mention. Instead, when your heartbeat is no longer yours alone seek the bounty beneath the sand post haste."
"That makes no sense. Couldn't you tell me things in a straight manner?"
"I could not, that would be far more confusing to you with how little you know of the land's history and I've not the time to explain it," Nagi said, the simulated world shaking as if to accentuate her claim. "Follow your heart, quite literally in this case, and you will find what you seek."
"Right." Follow his heart. His heart that didn't like making choices and shied away from things that could be painful to anyone he cared for other than himself. That heart. Right.
"Your self depreciation is unbecoming, dear child," Nagi noted sharply, eyes narrowing. "You will need to learn to believe in yourself as others believe in you. You will go quite far if you have a bit more proper confidence in yourself, dear child. If you don't think you can have that confidence on your own, ask for the aid of others until you can do so on your own. You have friends and a support network for a reason, rely on them."
That sounded like what the specter of Sharena had said all those months ago. The best he could do then was try.
"That will be enough for the time being. I believe in you, Nicola. We will meet again."
Then Nagi was gone, vanishing in the same bright light she had appeared in. The world sooner broke apart, plunging Nicola into darkness as he fell and fell. He snapped awake not much later, finding himself in a dark room lit by a dim lantern.
He was lying on a damp cot in an unfamiliar tunic and pair of trousers. His vision was obscured by his hair, making it far harder to see than he liked, and he felt like he hadn't eaten in days. With a ragged sigh he ford himself up and pulled his hair back, only to recoil as he felt scales touch flesh. That wasn't good. Working past that aversion, the spearman pulled his hair behind his head, cursing that he didn't have some form of hair tie as he tried to get a better look at the chamber.
"Joy, that wasn't just a part of the dream," he muttered, noting that he couldn't see anything from his right eye. He could feel it just fine and it moved so it wasn't gone, but nothing else. "That'll be a bit of a problem."
More of a problem than expected because he tumbled to the ground the moment he tried to step away from the cot. Cursing, the former summoner pushed himself to his feet, choosing to ignore the sound of stone grinding under sharp claws from his right side. Once he had a better grasp of what was going on, he'd react to whatever had changed about his appearance.
"Hello," Nicola called, as he finally pulled himself to his feet. He was still fairly unsteady, bracing himself against a wall that strained under the touch as he made his way to the lantern as he waited for an answer. None had come by the time he reached the light source and adjusted it, adding more light to the chamber as he turned the dial on its side. The dial snapped as he pulled his hand away from it, causing him to sigh under his breath. His strength was out of his control then, another thing on a growing list of complications.
Shuffling from behind a wall was his first sign of another person in the area, though the uneven breathing and low moans following behind didn't seem like a good sign. A door he didn't see slammed open as a robe clad clergyman stumbled into the room. They looked haggard as they pushed the door closed behind them, using their weight to brace it as something heavy slammed into it.
"You're... awake, Sir Apollonia," they huffed, not looking at Nicola as more things hit the door. "We had hoped... you'd wake up in better circumstances, but that was not the case."
"What's going on," he asked, already feeling he wouldn't like the answer.
"Very little time to explain," the clergyman said. "There's another door near you that's flush against the wall. Use it to escape before they break through, I'll buy you some time."
They? That was never good. An inhuman snarl as the door cracked behind the clergyman confirmed that. Monsters then. He could deal with monsters. Probably. Perhaps not with his usual sense of ease as his strength wasn–
A heavy slam broke a small hole through the door, revealing several sets of red eyes as a gnarled and rotted limb pawed through the small opening. No time to think then, he'd need to act.
"Move," he breathed, plodding unevenly to the door as the clergyman protested. They must have seen something in his good eye that stopped them short, instead opting to roll away from the door as another heavy slam tore a larger hole in the stone.
A masked visage with glowing red eyes tried to force its way through, the scent of death filling the room just as Nicola lashed out with his transfigured limb. He shuddered at the sensation of smashing an overly ripe melon as the headless figure fell back and turned to ash. Four more tried to take its place, reaching through the door towards him as he heard the clergyman fiddle with the wall, likely trying to get the secret door they mentioned open. He could buy them time. His vision doubling and his legs losing their strength told him otherwise, but he could deal with the repercussions of that later.
With a sharp breath he jabbed another of the undead creatures, its head snapping back before it turned to ash as well. He felt his strength leave him a second time as he realized said ash was being drawn into him. Disgust filled him and he felt sick to his stomach as the door began to crack under the weight of the remaining creatures. R-right, he still needed to deal with them.
Taking a few steps away from the door, he grabbed the lantern and hurled it at the nearest of the remaining trio, thankful he wouldn't need both eyes to aim with how close the monster was. The creature was instantly set alight, filling the air with the horrid smell of burning, rotten flesh as Nicola backpedaled to the cot.
"Sir Apollonia, what are you doing," the clergyman began through hacking coughs as Nicola pulled the cot from its place. He stumbled as he lifted the makeshift bed and pushed it against the broken door. That would buy them a bit more time, even if the flames ate away at the cot. It would also keep him from taking in whatever ashes remained of the creatures if they happened to burn to death before they broke through.
"Is the door ready," he asked in return.
"Almost, it's heavier than expect–"
Nicola cursed and pushed the clergyman aside, all but wrenching open the door that had blended into the chamber's walls not moments before. The passage beyond was wide enough for a single person and went down further than his vision would allow. "Go, I'll close the door behind us."
The clergyman nodded, gripping their left shoulder as they hobbled down the stairs. Nicola followed after them, sliding the secret door closed using his palms. A soft click greeted him as the door pushed towards him just slightly, no doubt seamlessly blending in with the wall once more. A soft white light filled the dark as the clergyman cast a quiet spell.
"This way," they whispered, offering the spearman a hand. He very gingerly took it with his left hand, slowly following behind them as the muffled sound of shattering stone and splintering wood resonated from above.
The two walked in silence for what felt like minutes, Nicola occasionally needing to stop and steady himself as he lost his footing or his balance left him. Eventually, they came across a second stone door engraved with the same symbol he'd seen in his dream. The clergyman rapped it twice then waited.
After what felt like an eternity the door slid open, revealing a vaguely familiar face.
"Hurry along," Libra said, ushering the clergyman and Nicola past the door before sliding it shut. Once the door clicked, the blonde man gave an exhausted sigh before greeting the pair. "It is good to see that the both of you arrived no worse for wear."
"If not for Sir Apollonia, that would not have been the case," the clergyman replied. "Even injured as he is he still managed to fend off a few of the Risen."
"Is that so," the blonde war priest asked, glancing over the spearman. "You no doubt have many questions."
"I do."
"I'll see them answered once you are settled in and given a bath," Libra nodded. "A good meal would also do you some good, though I must advise that you eat slowly with how long you've been forced to rest."
There was an ominous statement if he'd heard one. The last thing he remembered was fighting that blonde doll in a marble palace. How far back was that exactly?
Five months. That had been five months ago according to Libra when they spoke an hour later. By then Nicola had taken a long bath and scrubbed his waist length silvery green hair clean. He accepted a fine white tunic, thick black trousers and a simple red hair tie in place of the sweat soaked rags he'd been resting in. That was soon followed by a rather large bowl of stew and piece of bread. Against his urge to wolf down the food, his hunger stirring at the sight of the bowl, he ate slowly. The meal wasn't going anywhere and he had better things to do than make himself sick eating too quickly.
"So I've been out of the loop for five months," he began, watching Libra between mouthfuls of the stew.
"Indeed," the blonde man nodded, "You were rather gravely injured and needed the constant attention of clerics and healers alike for two of those months because your injuries refused to heal for all that you were alive. Some wounds could not be mended simply because of how long they took to heal."
"That would be my eye then," he said flatly. When he'd gotten a good look at it, the eye looked normal save for no light reaching it. Its iris had also taken on the same eerie blue he deeply disliked seeing, but he was going to let that pass for now.
"Your eye and your arm, though the latter was in such bad shape that it took on its current appearance once it began healing on its own."
Nicola looked to the blackened limb. Unlike the rest of him it didn't look overly thin or malnourished, boasting the same amount of musculature he'd had before the attack on the Ylissean palace. It was covered in fine black scales and pulsed with glowing blue veins that reached all the way down to his claw tipped fingers. A faded blue mark vaguely resembling an angular eye or teardrop, he couldn't really tell, marked the back of the hand. Comparatively, his other hand looked normal, though it shared the same mark.
"I see." It appeared he would need to get acclimated to seeing the monstrous limb going forward if it hadn't reverted to normal by now. That was asking a bit much of himself, but he would manage. "And the aftermath of the attack?"
"That is a rather broad topic," Libra answered. "Do you mean in regard to Ylisstol itself, the royal family and its guests, the Shepherds or halidom as a whole?"
"If I say yes..."
"I will become quite cross," Libra nodded. "Though it is good to see you have some form of humor at the present."
"I try," the spearman said, managing to grin. "More seriously, I imagine things went rather poorly if Risen are capable of reaching Ylisstol mostly unhindered."
"We are not in Ylisstol," the war priest said matter-of-factly.
"We aren't?"
"No, we are closer to what is known as the Eastern Palace, at the very edge of Themis. You were moved here along with several others as part of what should have been a temporary relocation, though that has since grown permanent as a matter of speaking."
"Explain." The mild mirth left Nicola in an instant.
"Ylisstol is currently locked in the midst of a battle for control as the duchies vie for power. To start from the beginning, a few days after the palace was attacked, Exalt Emmeryn forged a union with the Khan of Regna Ferox and the Mad king of Plegia to form a united front against the group that attempted to depose all of them, the Grimleal. The three of them went to work on strategizing the best approach for the matter when the Thalassa and Tethys duchies rather abruptly revolted against the Exalt, claiming her to be working with foreigners to undermine the peace that Ylisstol had achieved through isolationism."
"The same isolationism that required Chrom to win a tournament in Regna Ferox to earn their assistance and led to him being attacked as if he was some form of imposter?"
"The very same," Libra nodded. "It was necessary at the time when the Lady Exalt began to rule, but it eventually eroded away at our ties with our neighbors and left us unaware of the actions they were taking in relation to us. Regardless, both duchies formed a coalition to force the Lady Exalt to abdicate and exile the royal family, calling them liars and manipulators who would rule the nation with an iron fist as their father did. The Pallas and Metis duchies both took grave offense to such claims and declared their neighbors treasonous while the remaining four duchies attempted to keep both factions from fighting."
"Emmeryn didn't intervene?" That didn't seem remotely like her.
"The Lady Exalt has gone missing, along with the King of Plegia."
"Which, considering the timing of their disappearances, reflects poorly on her, even if unintentional or forced." He had a fair bit more to say on that particular bit of information, but he held his tongue.
"Indeed. Thus the duchies are vying for control of the capital, some to maintain the order than the Lady Exalt wished to keep, while others work at wresting control of the situation and taking matters into their own hands."
"And what is Chrom doing in that regard?"
"Prince Chrom is attempting to mediate the situation and find his sister at the same time, splitting those duties between himself and the Wing Commander," Libra explained. "As things stood when I was last apprised of the situation, he was on the backfoot due the resentment of those claiming him to be the second coming of his father. He was safe, having the protection and aid of his personal guard, tactician and newly appointed spymaster, but the remainder Shepherds are currently scattered around the country as they search for the Lady Exalt and the King of Plegia with the assistance of the Pegasus Knights."
"What of the Khan?"
"He has returned to Regna Ferox to handle things in his home for a period of time, with no word on whether or not he will be able to return. Until then, his eldest daughter serves as a dignitary."
"Ah... and Lissa?"
"Princess Lissa is here in the Eastern palace, though she is more than likely resting. She has been assisting in healing others and would have returned to the capital had the fighting not broken out there or if the Risen had not suddenly begun besieging this location."
"When she awakens, I'd very much like to see her."
"When she awakens, I imagine she will come to you considering how much she has been fretting over you and the lady of Themis," Libra remarked sagely. Then his expression soured. "Ah, here comes the heretic."
"You claim me to be a heretic, yet you tolerate my presence nonetheless, priest," a tired sounding voice yawned. Nicola turned to see Tharja wrapped in a thick fur cloak plop down near the war priest. "I see that you've returned to the fold, Nicola." Something resembling a smile ghosted across the pale woman's features. "Henry will be pleased to hear that you're awake when he finds out."
"Tharja," he nodded, looking between her and Libra. "What happened that led the two of you to work together?"
"The heretic is a competent healer and master of defensive wards, making her useful in defending the Eastern Palace," Libra said. "Unfortunately, her dour demeanor and the way she employs her magic leaves much to be desired."
"The priest needs more people that can put down the Risen before they reach critical locations within the network of passages beneath the palace and his choices were between myself and Henry. It doesn't help that his usual assistants are sloppy and leave themselves open to attacks that lead to said locations," Tharja returned. "The room you were resting in as an example. It was protected and near invisible until someone ran a group of six Risen and one of their leaders into it, though by the time I arrived to deal with them, only four remained." She glanced at Nicola. "I imagine that was partially your doing."
"I offered a bit of assistance," Nicola said. "Though I'm having difficulty in controlling my strength." He glances at the spoon he'd been using for his stew. The metal utensil was bent well out of shape and hardly recognizable.
"So I see," the dark mage drawled, glancing back at Libra. "It's almost time for your shift. Double check that the passage I warded is fully covered while you're out. It is likely fine, but having a knowledgeable second set of eyes is beneficial."
"Right," Libra sighed, looking exhausted. "Try not to hex any others of the clergy while I am away."
The dark mage gave a dismissive wave as the priest rose. "We can continue our conversation later, Nicola. For now, finish eating and get some rest if you can. Tomorrow will likely be long as we attempt to route the Risen in the area once and for all."
With that, the cleric shuffled away, leaving the spearman and the dark mage.
"I'm surprised you aren't cold," Tharja said after a moment.
"Is it cold?" He couldn't tell at all.
"There is a reason everyone else is wearing thick clothing," she pointed out. "No doubt they offered you a cloak to go with your current attire."
They had, but he declined it. The temperature felt perfectly fine to him and still did. When he mentioned that to Tharja, a small frown appeared on her usually impassive face.
"Curious. Once we are able to leave this place I'll want to perform a quick medical evaluation on you," she said more to herself than him. "The healers may have missed something while treating you."
The mage left soon after, leaving Nicola to finish his meal in silence. Once he had and found a proper place to set the bowl and ruined spoon, he got up and attempted to stretch. He felt less unsteady now that he had something on his stomach and he knew that sleep wasn't going to come easily, if at all, so he figured it would be best to explore the available sections of the palace and get some light exercise. He would need to get back into proper shape sooner rather than later if he was going to be ready for Hel's arrival, help sort out what was going on in Ylisstol and find the item Nagi had referred to in the desert.
It didn't cross his mind until much later that he wanted to take a more proactive role in the world.
Things had diverged a great deal from the history she knew, Lucina thought as she watched small fires spread across Ylisstol from atop the highest tower of the Mage's College. Some changes had been for the better, for instance saving her aunt from being assassinated and preventing her father from being crippled in a duel in Arena Ferox. The backlash from those changes hadn't been pleasant or anticipated, however. The fact that Emmeryn, Khan Basilio and Gangrel had nearly been assassinated in the same evening was one such thing and the unrest in Ylisstol was another.
Had she wrought more harm than good attempting to save the future? Surely she hadn't, all of the Shepherds still lived and few were in any great danger now that the assassination night had passed. When Valm became involved that would be a different matter entirely, but she wasn't certain there was much she could do there without taking a more active role. She couldn't do that, not without tipping off the agents of the Fell Dragon that something was amiss—more amiss than expected.
The princess thought herself playing a game of chess when she first returned to the past, excited that her actions would have little to no consequences on the future so long as her moves were small enough, subtle enough, to go without noticing. Now she felt as if she was fumbling with a knife in the dark, making changes she couldn't foresee the results of until they came back to her in the form of bloody gashes. Yet she still had a duty to fulfill. She still needed to prevent her future from ever coming to pass.
But at what point did fixing the past start to jeopardize the present? Could she still, in good faith, change the past knowing that the repercussions of such actions would ripple out and eventually return several times over? She would need to hold firm until she found that answer she supposed, eyes narrowing as they honed in on a red haired mage fending off a group of would be assailants. Laurent. He would need her assistance from the way he was being pushed back, not from lack of strength but lack of resolve to hurt the people of Ylisse.
It was noble, but it would get him killed.
With a sigh, the princess dropped from the tower, then dove towards her ally. The height was of little concern as ethereal butterflies swarmed around her, cushioning her landing as her cape flared out. The look she gave the group had them fleeing as she rose, turning to face her ally.
"Under strange circumstances do we meet, Laurent," Lucina breathed.
"Indeed," the mage aside, adjusting his glasses. "Do you know of a place where we can speak on such matters?"
"Follow me," she said simply, leading the mage away from the fighting as the sound of combat drew closer. She was thankful that it was Laurent rather than any other at that moment. He would be able to assuage her concerns to confirm them in short notice and she had many concerns.
A/N: Short Chapter, but part of the opening for the next arc of the story. More things will be explained in the next couple as Nicola gets more acclimated to his condition and sees more people who can offer insight on matters. Each of these few chapters, until the actual meat of the arc begins, will also offer a bit of insight as to what is going on away from the Eastern Palace at different scales.
If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see things from other writers, consider visiting the Fanfiction Treehouse Discord Server (u89gs745fn). There are plenty of authors more talented than myself and you don't need to be a writer to join or anything like that. The community is also pretty active and comfy. Regardless of that, thank you for reading thus far and have a wonderful day or evening.