The Robin Variable

by Waywatcher

Things change from one world to another: marriages differ, personalities are slightly changed, and Robin is the greatest wildcard of them all. The tactician often manifests fantastic powers and bizarre quirks, from minor to extreme. One thing remains consistent however: they are always drawn to the Shepherds.

50. Robin, the Chained Lady

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.

Minor: Dark Flier, Immortal, Boxer (Pugilist), Exploitive, Swordmaster, Angry Cinnamon Roll, Tripping, Perpetual Cheer, Chef, Blacksmith, Pegasus Knight, Teacher, Librarian, Masochist, Literal-Minded, Authoritative, Middle Age, Wyvern Rider, Phobia, Thicc, Tsundere, Damsel in Distress, Gangrel's Child, Wyvern Rider, Child, Communist, Bomber, Bear Cavalry, Flying, ADHD, Super Strength, Patriotic, Martial Artist, Scottish, Sassy, One Liner.

Standard: Elemental, Deaf, Foreign, Future sight, Nurse/Medic, Valmese Tactician, Medusa, Amazon, Genderfluid, Gift from Validar + evil to good, Mind Control, Banshee, Mimic, Emotionless, Crippling Overspecialization (Idiot Savant), Coward, ESP, POW, PTSD, Magician, Mute, Handicapped, Secret Helper, Crazy, Morpher, Dreamwalker, Motherly, Twins, Regenerating, Animal Whisperer, Naga/Tiki Assistant, Sleepless, Deadly Touch, Mind Reader, Doppelganger, Arachne, D&D magic, Umbramancer, Horror Monster, Detective, Dominatrix, Songstress, Kinky, Matchmaker, Androphobic, Fashion Designer, Illusionist, Attraction Aura, Ring Maker, Therapist, Teleporting, Crippled.

Unlikely: Chrom's child, Minotaur, Paladin, Werewolf, Assassin, Future Soldier, Bounty Hunter, Weather control, Kleptomaniac, Druid, Steampunk, Shadow Familiar, Magic Augmentation, Lucky, Exile, Piper (Charmer), Gladiator, Witch Doctor, Centaur, Drunk, Demon, Punk, Harpy, Revenant, Luck Manipulation, Demon Summoner, Megalomaniac, Kitsune, King of Plegia, Mood Ring, Reverse Aging, Hammerspace, Prostitute, Demon Hunter, Cyborg, Maid/Servant/Butler, Deadlord, Rebellion, Einherjar, Trap, Yandere, Living Weapon, Size Shifter, Queen of Plegia, Gluttonous, Stretchy, Ninja, Alchemist, Protoss, Spirit Manipulation, Invisible, Plegian Honor Guard, Mecha, Kryptonian, Creator, Orc, Memory Stealing Respawn, Racer, Khan, Misfortune, Vampire Hunter, Geokinetic, Imaginary Actualization, Death, Resurrection, Arachne, Force, Merchant, Background Music, Variable, Civilian, Natural Disaster, Mental Noise Projection, Hidden OP, Summoner, Cyclops, Teleporter, Cryokinetic, Genie, Judge, Intangibility, Fortune Teller, Future Vision, Serial Killer, Pervert, Stalker, Magic Fixit, Drakengard Restoration, Ying-Yang, Childhood Friend, Cyberpunk, Chrom's Mother, Obsessed, Berserker, Phase Shift, Gravity Manipulation, Hallucinating, Bladesoul, Zombie, Double Entendre, Shared Body/Two Souls, Cannibal, Singer, Violent, Insane, Waterbender, Casanova, Cupid, Undertaker, Master Thief, Guard, Faceless, Shadow, Age Control, Cradle Snatcher, Emo, Singer, Nun, Courier, Haunted Knight Armor, Egyptian, Sentient Object, Shit Lord, Court Wizard, Naga's sibling, Mad Queen, Artist, Predator, Cheshire Cat, Radio Host, Chimera, Windego, Witch, Symbiote.

Other: Self-insert, Second Generation replacement, Dimensional Walker, Cycle, Fates.

Sleeping, suggested by Darkness is Complete/The Restless Drifter. Telepath, suggested by Invisible Prince. Elder God, suggested by Vanderspiegel. Lastly, an addition of my own: Conpeskinesis (Chain kinesis). There's probably someone else's idea tied into here that I missed in my notes.

Robin doesn't appear directly for the majority of the chapter, but she's important to the plot. Also, I'm not using the Cthulhu elder gods. I'm just using the term 'elder god' to refer to an old generation of forgotten gods. I know I've already done Goddess Robin, but this feels different enough to be worth it's own chapter.

Also, maybe I'll have to do just the Sleeping Robin quirk as it's own thing at some point (in Varied Awakenings of course).

This is a doozy of a chapter. As fitting for the fiftieth chapter. It's at least thrice the length of the (former) longest chapter.

---

The village looks old and abandoned, but brigands assail it all the same. The sky is purple and cloudy, the ground dead and grey.

Chrom grabs Falchion from its scabbard and pulls it free. He charges to the village, and lunges at the first bandit the crosses his path. His blade goes right through the man's chest, and he tears it out with a grim sense of satisfaction… but the man doesn't drop. The bandit's head twists unnaturally on his shoulder, turning 180 degrees to face Chrom and audibly snapping the neck. The bandit's face is covered with a grey mask that makes him look very inhuman, and as Chrom watches his eyes go from a dull brown to a glowing red. Smoke billows from the man's mouth and his skin drains in color: going from tan to a faded purple.

The bandit now moves with an unnatural, almost puppet-like gait. It moves stiffly and suddenly, as if being jerked around by strings, and raises its axe high in the air to strike at him.

Chrom dodges a few swings from the monstrosity in front of him. He own blade flashes quickly in response, slashing across the chest and torso in a desperate attempt to kill this thing. The monster seems unaffected by the attacks, and is steadily pressuring Chrom into a fighting retreat.

Then something happens. A cold sensation shoots through his veins, and Chrom feels like he's lost control of his limbs, like he too is being puppeted: his sword comes up beside his head, and his arms swing in a short but vicious quarter-circle which whips Falchion around at great speed. The blade slashes right through the monster's neck, not the torso, and with the head severed the monster dissolves into dust leaving only rags and its axe behind.

The feeling of being controlled disappears, and Chrom can move on his own again. He glances down at the rags on impulse, and notices something in the rags. A single chain link lies there, perfectly clean despite the dirty clothes, and it seems to call to him.

Despite his anxiety, Chrom leans down and picks up the link. Clearly this is important.

Just as his fingers close around the link, Chrom hears the chirp of a bird from behind him. He turns around just in time to see an axe being swung at his head, and his vision goes black.

Chrom awakens in his bed. The dream he just experienced plays through his mind: a cloudy sky, dead ground, an abandoned village, masked monsters, a chain link, a bird cry. He reaches up and wipes the sweat off his forehead, but pauses at a cold sensation when he does so.

He brings down his hand, and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end at what he sees. Held in his hand is a single, perfectly clean, chain link.

###

Brownleaf has the unfortunate distinction of being close to the coastline, but with no coastal city to protect it. This makes it easy prey for pirate to raid it, and since Gangrel's ascent to the throne those raids have become much more frequent. The thick forest surrounding the village makes it particularly difficult to spot incoming attackers, and provided little strategic advantage to the villagers for defense.

The Shepherds arrive just in time to meet another one of these raids. Swords, axes, and lances flash in the sunlight as a massive brawl breaks out in the village center. Viron barks orders while picking off foes with his bow, and Sully and Stahl deliver a devastating charge to the pirate's ranks which sends them scattering.

Chrom finds himself chasing a pirate between two buildings where there is a cart blocking off the path. The pirate swears as he turns around, realizing he has no option but to fight.

The prince thrusts Falchion forwards, nicking the man on the ribs, and brings up the blade to block a swipe of the man's axe. This pattern repeats several times with Chrom getting small hits and blocking the retaliation.

Eventually Chrom lands the strike he needs. His sword slashes into the man's gut, and the follow-up thrust goes right through his heart. The prince watches in grim satisfaction as the brigand falls to the floor.

Chrom notices something interesting on the pirate's person. A small locket has fallen out of the man's pocket. It seems clean, unlike the rest of him. It was probably stolen from one of the townsfolk. Chrom leans down to grab the locket…

...and hears the chirp of a bird.

Immediately Chrom spins around, leading the movement with his sword in a hasty block. That move saves his life, as the axe swung at his head instead meets Falchion and is knocked off course.

This fight is a lot more frantic than the last. Chrom swings his sword wildly, slightly panicked by his near-death experience, but his training quickly kicks in and he stops being so reckless. He takes a small hop backwards, giving himself space for just a moment, and then lunges forwards with his arm outstretched. Falchion pierces right through the man's collarbone, stabbing the spine, and the pirate crumples to the ground with a pained gasp.

The prince takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm his panic. He backs up slowly until his foot nudges the body behind him, and he keeps his eyes on the entrance to this alleyway as he leans down and grabs the locket.

The significance of this event hasn't gone over his head. That dream, at least in some small way, came true. The cry of a bird alerted him to danger, something that would have otherwise killed him.

Chrom takes a quick glance up to the rooftops next to him, and spies a robin perched on the blacksmith's chimney. Unlike most birds which twitch and move constantly, this robin is completely still and seems to be staring at him. The prince and the bird lock eyes for a few seconds until Chrom has to look back at the alley entrance to ensure he's not in danger, but when he looks back the bird has taken flight. The prince watches it fly all the way over to a hill where there sits a lone weeping willow overlooking the town graveyard.

"Milord!" Frederick barks as he barrels into the alleyway. "Are you alright?"

"Frederick? Ah, yes, I'm fine." Chrom coughs. "I had a close call is all."

"My apologies Milord, I left you for too long." The knight grimaces.

"No, it's my fault. I was reckless to chase him by my lonesome." The prince admits. "Now let's return to the battle. We have more pirates to kill."

###

The battle ends in a total victory for the Shepherds. They suffer no significant wounds. All injuries are flesh deep at worst. The Shepherds then spend the rest of the day helping the villagers rebuild.

Chrom spends the first thirty minutes of this time trying to find the owner of the pendant he found. That person ends up being a travelling merchant who was passing through, and was unfortunate enough to still be around when the pirates came through. She's an Anna.

"Thanks handsome." The merchant lady smiles when he hands her the pendant. "This thing is gonna sell for a pretty penny. Would have been a shame to lose it."

"Right." Chrom says, feeling a bit annoyed that he almost got killed for something that's basically irrelevant.

"Oh, but I'm being ungrateful." Anna says to him. She digs around in her large backpack for a moment. "I can't give away anything expensive as a gift, that's bad for business, but I can totally offer you a trinket or something useful."

As the merchant rummages around, Chrom gets a glance into the bag. It's just minor knick-knacks like simple wood carvings, a pack of sewing needles, a holy symbol of naga, a toy bird that looks suspiciously like…

"What's that?" Chrom interrupts, pointing to the bird.

"Hm? Oh, this is just a toy robin." Anna says, and pulls out the wood toy. It's well-crafted and well-painted, and fits in the palm of her hand. There are a few oddities though: the bird's eyes have had the paint rubbed off them making it look glassy-eyed, and there are small grooves carved into the bird's neck. "It belonged to this old Plegian seer who passed away, and her family sold it. Apparently the woman rubbed off the eyes and carved the neck after getting a vision from a god."

"Grima? Naga?"

"Nope. According to her son, the seer called this entity both 'the Chained Lady' and 'the Sleeping Lady'." Anna shrugs. "Since you seem interested in this thing how about you take it? It'll be my thanks."

"Sure." Chrom says, and accepts the toy robin. "Thank you."

###

"The Chained Lady?" The old librarian hums, and squints through her glasses. She shakes her head and rises from her chair, and beckons the prince to follow. "The first time you come to the library in years, and it's to ask about an old god? What is Plegia up to now...?"

It's a rhetorical question, and Chrom is thankful he doesn't actually have to answer. He doesn't know what he'd say if he was to admit that his interest isn't for military matters around fighting some Plegian plan, but to explain the strange coincidences he's been experiencing lately.

Well 'lately' is probably an understatement. Chrom has gotten prophetic dreams for years, but it's only in the last few weeks that one of those dreams has had any real-world relevance.

But an old god? Chrom has never heard of such a thing. As far as he knew, the only other gods beyond Grima and Naga were Mila and Duma, and those two are long dead. The only other possibilities Chrom can think of are those in legends of ancient heroes: deities like Yune and Set who have most likely long since faded from existence, or don't exist anywhere close to the continent of Archanea.

"Here we are…" The old lady grunts as she picks out a large tome from the top of a shelf. They're in the myths and legends section of the library, and many of the books here look dusty and unused. Not many scholars bother themselves with such things, and Chrom suspects the people who do take interest in these sorts of stories usually prefer more fanciful stories of monsters or adventure related to the more famous legends, not obscure tales of a deity no one has heard of in a very long time. "This book is all we have on the subject. Your father wasn't fond of 'heretical' material in the library. This book was all on the old gods I could hide away in time, but it's also the most essential."

Chrom takes the massive tome from the lady, and grunts at the incredible weight. The book is easily as thick as a pillow, and flipping to the last numbered page yields the number 3758. The pages are not small either, and the words are just barely large enough to read.

"Is that all Milord?"

"Yes, thank you Teresa." Chrom nods. "Actually… would you mind telling the servants to bring my lunch here when the time comes? I'm going to be here a while."

"Of course Milord. Don't spill anything on the tome." Teresa warns. "We don't have a second copy."

Chrom nods absently, already not listening. He flips to the first page, makes himself comfortable, and starts reading.

###

In short: the tome had a lot to say, but not too much about the Chained Lady. She has no dedicated myths and instead appears occasionally in the myths of other deities. Chrom has managed to make a small list of notes about her though.

This took a month by the way. He didn't read all 3758 pages in one day. It's a miracle he managed to get through the tome with all his other responsibilities getting in the way. Lissa, Frederick, and Emmeryn are obviously concerned about his inordinate and unexplained interest in this old tome, but this is something Chrom felt he had to do. He has to know the meaning behind these dreams, and why some ancient deity would have interest in him.

So, the Chained Lady (which is her primary title) is a relatively minor old god. She is goddess of imprisonment, chains, puppets, sleep, dreams, and visions. Her main symbols are a single large chain link bound in many smaller chains, and a glassy-eyed bird (usually a robin) with a chain around its neck.

Beyond that brief explanation of her domains there is shockingly little to be found about the Chained Lady. The only other thing Chrom could find mentioned is a few random notes about her appearance like the fact that she has silver hair, or that she's permanently sleeping (hence her alternative title as the Sleeping Lady), and also that she communicates through telepathy and dream messages.

Oh, and she supposedly spies on people through birds which she controls by putting chains around their necks. Hence her second symbol, and hence the toy bird having groves gouged into the neck in absence of a chain to put there.

So Chrom is basically a few small chains away from having two holy symbols of the Chained Lady. All he'd need to do is loop a small chain around the bird's neck, and tie a small chain around the large chain link he got from that dream.

The question is: does he want symbols of the Chained Lady? He has no idea if the Chained Lady is friendly or if she secretly wants to take over the world or something, and he heavily suspects that prophetic dream he got was leading him up to this moment, that the Chained Lady gave him that dream knowing it would lead him to find the pendant, give it to Anna, hear her story, and obtain the toy robin.

What does the Chained Lady want? Why him? Why now?

"There's no way I'm going to find out… unless I can get more dreams." Chrom realizes with a grimace. He glances at the toy bird sitting on his desk, and the pristine chain link next to it. "I guess I'm repairing symbols of a forgotten god."

###

A bird flies through the air. It's red stomach stands out starkly against the purple sky and dying grey ground. The grass is faded and brown, the trees rot where they stand, and as the bird passes a pond it can be seen that the water is polluted with a purple color, and dead fish lie on the surface. Not even insects are spared death: the flies that came to feast on the bodies also lie in the water, killed by the same toxin that killed the fish.

Chrom watches this from a ruined village. The houses are destroyed, with the beams starting to rot and stone starting to crumble. Some houses are smashed apart, missing windows or walls, and others just look like they collapsed. The bird soars overhead, heading to a tree located on a hill just a short ways away. It lands on the weeping willow, and Chrom notes the dozens of similar shapes resting on the tree. He also notes the graveyard nearby which looks disturbed due to having tombstone knocked over and graves dug up.

"Wait, a village near a forest, with a weeping willow and graveyard on a hill?" Chrom thinks. His mind is sluggish, like he's drugged. He forces himself to move, his body feels similarly unresponsive, but he manages to find that alleyway where he was nearly killed and to his surprise he sees the same cart blocking the path and some rags lying on the floor where the two pirates were killed. "This is Brownleaf…"

Chrom turns around and sluggishly marches his out of the town and up the hill towards the weeping willow. All the birds perched on the tree are eerily silent and completely still unlike normal birds. As he gets closer, the prince notes that the willow isn't quite what he thought it was. What are usually long branches and leaves drooping down to the grass have been replaced with long dangling chains.

A moan cuts through the air, and there's the sound of shuffling feet. A purple-skinned monster lurches into view. It's covered with dirt as it just recently pulled itself out of a grave. Chrom tries to pull Falchion from its sheath, but the blade is heavy and tumbles from his numb fingers.

"Prince…" A voice says, whispering on the wind. The prince is paralyzed in the spot, staring at the monster as it lurches towards him. "Danger…"

The prince falls backwards. Suddenly his limbs are working again, his mind is sharp once more. He grabs Falchion from the ground, scrambles to his feet, and lunges at the monster. Remembering what happened in the last dream he aims for the throat and slices through the monster's unprotected neck. Smoke billows from the wound, and in moments the monster has dissolved.

"What are these?" Chrom pants. He turns to look up at the tree, and tenses when he notices all the birds in the branches staring down at him with glassy eyes. Each and every one has a chain binding it's throat. The wind suddenly picks up, ruffling feathers and causing the larger chains adorning the tree to clatter quietly.

"The future…" The wind whispers.

"No." Chrom grimaces. "It can't be. This is the future?"

"No…" The birds in the tree take to the air. They spiral up into the air, drawing Chrom's gaze to the sky. When he looks back down, everything has changed. Where there was once a tree there is now only a stump. The forest is long gone, replaced with burning cracks in the ground spitting lava. An army of monsters lumber across the space that used to be occupied by the village. One of them notices Chrom, lets out a spine-chilling moan, and starts lurching up the hill at him. The entire army follows, nearly a thousand monsters coming towards him.

Chrom turns around, trying to flee. His heart stops when he sees that all around him, for miles and miles, all he can see is fire and monsters. Monsters, who all have their burning red eyes turned to him.

"This is the future." The voice is clearer now, speaking loud in his ear. The wind picks up to a howl, but it can't drown out the moans of thousands of monsters all encroaching on his position. A sea of red eyes march towards the blue-haired man.

"How… how can I stop it?!" Chrom shouts against the wind. "This can't be my world! This can't be the only path!"

The monsters break into a run and barrel up the hill.

"Learn… listen… dream…"

The first monster comes into range, and Chrom cuts it down with Falchion. The world devolves into a mess of monsters, smoke, and violence as Chrom frantically tries to stay alive.

"Fight…" A large shape looms overhead. A dragon easily bigger than the entire Ylissian royal palace floats silently in the air. It has grey scales, six feathered wings, and two massive horns protruding from a head that's easily the size of the throne room.

It's Grima, the Fell Dragon.

Something hits Chrom in the shin, and he falls to the ground. The monsters swarm all over him, and just like the last dream his vision fades to black as he's torn apart.

###

"Bro, are you sure you're alright?" Lissa asks when he joins his siblings for breakfast. "You look super pale…"

"I'm fine." He coughs. "Just didn't sleep well."

"A bad dream perhaps? Or did you stay up all night reading another tome?" Emmeryn asks in concern.

"A dream." Chrom admits. "It was discomforting."

"Discomforting, big word." Lissa says through a mouthful of food. "That's how you know he's trying to hide something."

The prince rolls his eyes. "I am not."

"Totally are."

"What was it about?" Emmeryn asks.

"I saw Grima." Chrom admits. "And monsters. There was a voice warning me about the future."

"Grima?" Lissa asks with a raised eyebrow. "You dream told you Grima was coming back?"

"Yes." Now that he says it out loud, it sounds absurd. "It's just a dream though."

"Does this have something to do with your studies?" Emmeryn asks softly. "Why you were so engrossed in the tome about the old gods?"

"That's what that tome was?!" Lissa shouts. She glares at her brother. "You told me it was about religion!"

"It is… just not one that exists anymore." Chrom coughs. "Also, Emm, yes. I've had visions of late, and a few clues led me to that book. It could easily be coincidence though."

"I see." Emmeryn's face is unreadable. "Just be careful Chrom. Old powers are not dead powers. Make sure you know what you're doing."

"I know Emm." Chrom grimaces. "I know."

###

Chrom doesn't know what he's doing. This could go horribly wrong… or it could do nothing.

He got a few feet of small silver chain commissioned from a jewler, and it was just completed today. The prince can hardly believe he's actually going to complete a pair of the Chained Lady's symbols, but she seems to be warning him. He doesn't want to risk ignoring those dream visions after one of them saved his life.

Chrom is assuming, tentatively, that the Chained Lady is benevolent or at least more interested in saving the world than doing something nasty at the moment. Still, he's actively trying to communicate with an entity older than Mila or Duma, and much older than Naga or Grima. That's mildly terrifying, and by 'mildly' he means 'completely'.

He hides the chains in his pocket as he enters the palace. He knows Frederick is going to be looking for him, and doesn't want the knight to know he skipped training to get chains to talk with an elder god.

The prince manages to make his way back to his room without being spotted by any of the Shepherds or his siblings. He makes straight for his desk and pulls out the single chain link and the toy robin. He takes a small circle of chain and drapes it around the robin's neck. It doesn't make a perfect circle, the ends aren't attached, but it's good enough. The single chain link is a bit easier, Chrom just wraps a length of chain around it and makes a knot so it doesn't fall off.

"Milord!"

Chrom quickly stuffs both objects back in the drawer and closes it. He turns around just in time to see Frederick rush into the room.

"Where have you been!?" The knight asks in a raised voice. "Milord, you should not be going anywhere without a guard!"

"I know Frederick." Chrom coughs. "I was just… at the library."

The knight's eyes narrow. "Truely? That was the first place I checked considering your recent habits, and you were not there."

"Ah." Chrom grimaces. "Sorry."

"Milord, what are you hiding from me?" Frederick asks. "Is this about that tome?"

"Well… yes." Chrom admits. "I have concerns Frederick, and I'm taking steps to find out more."

"Steps that you cannot tell me?"

"You would think me mad." Chrom says bluntly.

"That does little to assuage my worries."

"I'm sorry Frederick. All I can ask is that you trust me." The prince grimaces.

Frederick looks at him long and hard. Chrom stands tall, refusing to be cowed by his retainer's suspicion. He does have a good reason for this, even if he doesn't think the others will understand it.

"Fine." Frederick says, and turns around. "I'll defer to your word Milord, but I am not happy about it."

"That's fine." Chrom sighs. "I'll tell you what's going on either when I have results or when I've determined my efforts have failed."

"As you say Milord…"

###

It's gone. The toy robin is gone.

Chrom left for only a few hours to attend a meeting on the renewed frequency of bandit raids, and when he returned and pulled out the drawer he found only the large chain link still there. He searched all around the room but found it nowhere.

Then there's a tap at the window, and Chrom's blood goes cold at what he sees. Sitting on the outside of the window pane is the toy robin. The chain around its neck is fully circled, no longer having two dangling ends. Even as Chrom watches the toy flaps its wings on its own, and flies over to a nearby tree where it then sits completely still.

"It's not just a dream. Oh gods, it's not just a dream." Chrom thinks. His breath comes rapidly, and he collapses against the wall while staring out the window. He was already fairly convinced the dreams were visions and that the Chained Lady was speaking to him, but seeing such up-front evidence of her power is extremely scary.

He's dealing with a god. He has to remember that. A god, a god, oh god. She animated that toy robin from who knows how far away, and melded the unattached ends of its neck chain together. The Chained Lady now has eyes, if she didn't have some already elsewhere in the world that is.

Chrom pulls himself over to his desk again, and pulls out the chain link. The knot he tied it with had been revised to something more aesthetically pleasing, and if Chrom isn't imagining things the length of the smaller chains wrapped around the large link have increased. There is also a new addition to this link: it's become a necklace with a thin, intricate blue and gold chain forming a complete circle that can easily fit around his neck. Chrom didn't make that.

With trembling fingers Chrom slips the necklace on. It slips under his collar, and can be easily hidden from view so it thankfully won't raise any questions.

"The prince of Ylisse, the royal bloodline of Marth, and chosen by Naga herself, wearing the symbol of an elder god." Chrom thinks as he stares out the window at the motionless bird. "What is my life becoming?"

###

The toy robin is following him.

Chrom left on another mission to take out some bandits, and he noticed as the Shepherds camped that night that there was a bird in the trees watching them. The glint of the firelight off something in the bird's neck gave away what it was.

Now Chrom is constantly on the lookout for that bird as they travel, and the others are starting to take notice. He's had quite a few Shepherds ask him if he's okay and tell him that he looks very twitchy.

He has to focus. The Chained Lady isn't his enemy, he should just ignore the bird and do his job… but it's not so easy to ignore something like that. Chrom can't ignore a god's attention on him.

No! This is not a choice. These bandits have to be dealt with, he'll deal with the Chained Lady when he's not otherwise occupied.

"Frederick?"

"Yes Milord?"

"How close are we to Southtown?"

"It's just over the horizon Milord. We should see it any minute now." The knight says.

And so it does. Southtown comes into view in a dozen minutes later… but only after the Shepherds spy the black plumes of smoke billowing from the rooftops. Their march turns into a sprint, and the cavalry charge on ahead to confront their foe.

At a jog it still takes nearly twenty minutes to get to the village. They can't go faster than that or they risk leaving behind the less physically fit of their members (Miriel and Lissa).

When they enter the burning town they find several bandits already dead on the ground, most likely Frederick, Sully, and Stahl's work. That said there are still a number of very alive bandits roaming around. They bolt at the sight of the Shepherds, and Chrom orders his squad to split into small groups to pursue them.

Chrom, alongside Sumia, rush down a fleeing myrmidon. The clumsy girl is no so clumsy anymore when adrenaline starts pumping through her veins and it is she, not Chrom, who lands the first strike on the bandit. Her spear stabs through his shoulder and the myrmidon stumbles, and Chrom finishes him when he cuts through the man's neck with Falchion.

"Th-There's more." Sumia warns, and points to group of men setting fire to a nearby store.

"Let's have at them then." Chrom says grimly. He charges the group with a fierce cry and Sumia in pursuit. It proves to be a bit more dangerous than he anticipated as four against two is not fair odds, and while skilled the two Shepherds can only take so much. They're quickly forced back-to-back to cover each other's blind spots and stand a chance in the fight.

And then Frederick barrels in and totally trivializes the battle. Still, it's better than suffering serious wounds from Chrom's underestimation of the odds.

"Are you alright Milord, Sumia?"

"Yes Frederick… but thank you. We were in a bit over our heads." Chrom admits.

"Let us continue then." Frederick says. He wipes the blood from his lance off on one of the bandit's shirts. "There are plenty more bandits to dispose of."

The rest of the fight is significantly easier. The bandits are more disorganized than the Shepherds, not as well equipped, and don't have the same drive for victory. The most challenge comes from an older bandit named Garrick who manages to hold his own against Frederick surprisingly well, but still falls when tag-teamed by multiple Shepherds at once.

"Well…" Chrom thinks when the last bandit falls and he can get a proper look at the damage. "This is a mess. We should have gotten here sooner."

The rest of the day is spent repairing and aiding the townsfolk and when evening rolls around, rather than stay the night, the Shepherds leave to return to Ylisstol (much to Lissa's displeasure).

###

"Wake up."

Chrom's eyes snap open. The first thing he sees is the toy robin perched on his chest. It stares at his with blank eyes, but when it sees him awake it flutters off his bedroll to the edge of his tent.

There was no prophetic dream this time. The voice came out of nowhere, waking him from his sleep. The groggy prince pulls himself out of his resting spot and grabs his sword and the chain link necklace, not knowing what to expect.

Seeing him up, the toy bird hops out of the tent and takes to the air. It flies relatively low in the air so Chrom can distinguish it against the dark sky.

"Milord?" Stahl's voice calls from the corner of the camp. Chrom quickly turns to face him, having forgotten that there was a guard posted for safety. "What are you doing up?"

"A dream." The prince lies. "The increase in bandit attacks has troubled my sleep of late."

"I think it has for all of us." The cavalier says sympathetically.

There's a loud rustling noise, and for a moment Chrom thinks the toy robin is responsible, but a moment later he notices a whole cloud of birds taking off from the forest and nearly blotting out the moon, and he even sees some larger shapes pushing past their camp. A deer actually bursts out of the bushes and runs straight through the center of camp, totally disregarding the Shepherds as it makes a mad dash away from the deep forest.

"That's not normal." Stahl says in a suddenly hushed voice. "We should wake the others."

Chrom quickly nods. "I'll wake the girls, you get the others."

The two quickly split and rouse the rest of the Shepherds. Within a few minutes everyone is awake, armored, and it's just in time.

A giant circle appears in the night sky. It glows with all the colors of the rainbow, rippling in waves across the surface. The edges of the circle are crystalline and seem to contain the multi-colored energy inside.

This is met, at the exact same time, with an eruption of red lava from deep in the forest. The trees surrounding it immediately catch fire, and the ground under them shakes slightly causing Sumia to trip and a few knick-knacks to fall over.

"There's something coming from the portal." Emmet says curtly as he draws his shock stick.

"Five, ten, fifteen, twenty…" Virion counts as he squints into the darkness. Being an archer, his eyesight is much more impressive than most of the other Shepherds. "Thirty total."

"What are they?" Chrom whispers.

"I cannot tell from this range." The archer grimaces.

"Then we must go and find out. It is our duty as Shepherds." Frederick says boldly. "Milord?"

"I agree." Chrom nods. "Everyone, diamond formation! Lissa, Miriel, Virion, in the middle! Everyone else, around them!"

The Shepherds form up, and start marching towards where the figures dropped from the portal.

"We can't stay here for too long. We don't wanna get caught in a forest fire." Sully warns. "I say we should kill these things and get the fuck out."

"Not like you to talk 'bout runnin' away." Vaike prods with a grin.

"I'm brash, not stupid." Sully scoffs. "You want to stay in the fire then be my guest."

"No one is staying in the fire." Chrom says firmly. "As soon as we've sorted these things out, we're going back to camp, packing up, and moving straight to Ylisstol."

They get their answer soon. The Shepherds quickly run across a battle taking place, with a single swordsman combatting several other people… people with purple skin, red eyes, and stiff and unnatural movements.

Chrom swallows thickly. "Just like the visions."

"Milord?" Frederick prompts.

"Right." The prince steels himself. This is no time to got lost in thought or be intimidated. "Shepherds! We must dispose of these creatures! Advance!"

The Shepherds do so. The loose diamond formation is discarded as the frontline Shepherds move forwards, and the backline send their first volley of projectiles at the things. A flame, an arrow, and a bolt of lighting all strike different targets. Only Emmet's lighting kills a creature in one hit through.

Frederick produces a similar result when he smashes into a monster and it explodes into black smoke. None of the other frontline Shepherds can take out a monster in a single strike like him… and that's a problem.

"Only Frederick and Emmet can hit hard enough to kill these things in one hit." Chrom grimaces. It makes sense of course; both Frederick and Emmet have extensive training, and Emmet is an actual war veteran so he's very adept at killing difficult opponents, but it's inconvenient in this moment that the Shepherds only have two people who can quickly dispatch these monsters. "If we have to fight all thirty Virion saw at once, we're in trouble."

The swordsman who was originally fighting the monsters has taken rapid steps back to join the Shepherds' frontline. They're masked, with blue hair tucked into the collar of their slightly fancy but worn vest. They wield an impressive sword that looks suspiciously like… Falchion?

Yet another thing Chrom will have to think about later.

"Shepherds! I implore a retreat!" The swordsman says in an obviously exaggerated male voice. They slash through one of the monsters at the neck, killing it instantly. "There are more coming than your small group can handle, no matter your skill! Fall back and bring word to Ylisstol!"

Well, Chrom was already considering that, and the stranger's warning is more than enough to seal that train of thought. "You heard them everyone! Fighting retreat!"

"We're runnin'!?" Vaike barks in agitation.

"We discovered what we needed to, these things are bad news, but there's no sense in getting ourselves killed in a hopeless fight." Emmet snaps at the blond-haired man. He snipes another monster with his shock stick and it explodes into smoke and electric sparks.

"Agreed!" Chrom shouts. "Fall back everyone!"

###

The trip home feels longer than it should. It's five hours on it's own, but it feels like much more. Along the way the Shepherds are constantly on the lookout for monsters. They find several along the way and get involved in numerous scuffles.

The swordsman has joined their travels. He introduced himself as Marth (which no one seems to buy is his real name), and requested to accompany them back to Ylisstol. Chrom saw no reason to turn him down, so the man has joined their march.

In the wee hours of the morning just as the sun is rising, the Shepherds stumble into the city exhausted and half asleep. The guards quickly inform Chrom that Emmeryn wanted to see him as soon as he comes back, and the Prince drags himself to the palace as the rest of the Shepherds (aside from Frederick, who accompanies him) retire to the barracks.

Chrom is herded into the council room, where the full council is assembling around the central platform. Together they are three dozen people. Any lord or lady who happened to be in Ylisstol has taken the place of their usual representative here, no doubt at Emmeryn's orders.

"Chrom, you're here, good." The Exalt murmurs as the Prince takes a seat beside her. Philia nods to the blue-haired boy, who gives his own tired nod in response. "I know you must be exhausted, but I need your help here. I'm afraid security matters of military nature are not my specialty."

"I'll do my best." Chrom mumbles as he tries not to slump in his seat. He gratefully accepts coffee when a servant brings it around, and says to the boy "tell the scribe to have the transcript of this meeting copied and brought to my room. I'm sure to have missed something in my exhaustion."

"Yes sir."

The council meeting starts, and Chrom is immediately disappointed. For some reason the council sees fit to complain that other issues aren't being addressed rather than actually discussing this monster threat. They'd rather complain that the crop issue isn't being talked about than actually be productive to an immediate threat. How petty.

"This is going to be a loooong session…" Chrom thinks with a grimace.

The Prince isn't wrong. It takes a dozen minutes for Emmeryn to get the unruly council members on topic, and even then there's an inane debate about what they should be called rather than actually dealing with the problem.

"They have risen from the grave again, perhaps we should call them the Reanimated?" The Duke of Thadbury asks.

The chain under Chrom's shirt seems to grow warm for a moment upon the utterance of the word Risen and, not questioning the Chained Lady's signs, the prince sighs "how about we simply call them Risen? It captures the essence of what they are."

To his surprise, everyone agrees, and they finally get on with the planning stage.

###

The next few weeks are spent trying to deal with Risen outbreaks and generally running the Shepherds ragged trying to keep as many villages safe as possible. Each one they pass they instruct on how to build defences, but they simply don't have the time to stay and help. The Shepherds are some of the best warriors Ylisse has, so they aren't best used sitting around villages building palisades and ditches.

Marth proves to be an extremely useful asset in this endeavor. He shows great tactical knowledge which Virion even praises, and Chrom was quick to invite the man to strategy meetings despite Frederick's distrust of the masked warrior and the Shepherds are rewarded for this in receiving less wounds and having cleaner fights.

In other words, Marth has become the Shepherds' unofficial tactician.

Not only do Risen plague Ylissian lands, but bandit activities have actually increased since the Risen appeared. Chrom assumed that the Risen threat would deter brigands as the Risen should be just as much a threat to them as to Ylisse, but the brigands are actually getting more active and it's compounding all the problems the Risen are causing.

Or perhaps, more accurately, the Risen are compounding the brigand problem.

Due to all this, it is actually a relief to Chrom when Emmeryn sends the Shepherds off to Ferox to gain aid from the Khans. Sure, they're still fighting Risen every day, but at least it feels like they're making progress towards solving the problem rather than just doing damage control.

Part way to Ferox, Chrom gets another dream from the Chained Lady.

He sees a snowy path going through a tall, dense forest of pine trees. The sky is black, with a full moon being the only light. The pine trees are dark, casting the sides of the path in eerie shadow.

Snow crunches under Chrom's boots as he walks. In the otherwise silence of the world, the sound is loud and it makes Chrom wary that he's announcing his presence to an unseen threat. More monsters perhaps? That would seem to be in keeping with the other dreams he's had.

Then he sees something different. A small shrine off the side of the path just a few dozen meters down the road. It's knee height intricately carved grey stone, with a pair of trees carved into the top and a small idol strung up in between them by small chains tied in the branches. A single robin, extremely out of place considering the temperature, perches completely still on the uppermost branch of the shrine.

As Chrom gets closer the shrine seems to deteriorate. It grows rough before his eyes, the chains supporting the idol break, and the trees eventually snap off and leave the idol lying in the grass. When he's close enough to be standing directly before the shrine, it's in ruins. Only the idol is still recognizable, but it's dirty and buried up to its neck in the ground.

The prince reaches down and grabs the idol. Rusted chains remain wrapped around it, and clink gently against one another as the idol is picked up.

Chrom brushes off the idol to get a better look. It looks a lot like a sarcophagus, but the head has space separating it from the container around it. A hood perhaps? Is this idol depicting someone wearing a massive cloak? The idol's limbs and body are entirely bound by the chains, and the face of the idol is one of a sleeping lady.

Then it hits Chrom. A sleeping lady. The Sleeping Lady. The Chained Lady. This represents her. "This is you?"

"Yes…" The now-familiar voice whispers.

"You had a shrine along this path?"

"No… a seal." She whispers. "A prison."

Chrom tenses. "For what?"

A growl breaks the quiet. Chrom turns around quickly, and spies a pair of red eyes across the path. The Prince pockets the idol, draws Falchion, and settles into a battle stance.

From out of the forest stalks a giant wolf. It's at least as tall as Chrom, and much larger in terms of weight and bulk. It has bone protrusions jutting out of it's back and along the limbs, and it's fangs seem unusually long. It's eyes are red and it's skin purple, it's a Risen… and Chrom recognizes the creature.

"A dire wolf." The prince breaths. "Those are legend…"

"Extinct... not legend…"

The wolf snarls, puffing out purple smoke from its mouth, and breaks into a run. It's paws are surprisingly quiet in the snow for such a large creature, but broken manacles around it's ankles clank loudly in the otherwise quiet night. There is also the remnants of a chain caught in one of the bone protrusions in its back, showing it was chained up at some point.

"How long… it has been dead..."

The dire wolf leaps at Chrom, and he dodges to the side. He quickly moves onto the path so he isn't trying to maneuver in snow, and is sure to keep Falchion between him and the wolf at all times.

"Matters not…"

The wolf leaps forwards again, and Chrom dodges again, but the wolf lands close to him and quickly swipes with its paw. The claw scrapes across his breastplate and Chrom's return attack is similarly ineffectual against it's thick hide and bony armor.

"It can be reanimated... all the same..."

His blade doesn't come up quick enough to block a sudden quick bite from the dire wolf, and the prince blacks out.

Chrom wakes up clutching his chain link. He quickly stuffs it in his bedroll when Frederick comes by to wake him up.

###

This time Chrom knows what to expect when he hears a howl peirce the air as the Shepherds are setting up camp for the night. While everyone else seems unconcerned, Chrom draws his blade. The other Shepherds give him a strange look. All except Marth ignore what they probably see as an overreaction, but the masked swordsman walks up to him with a hand on his own sword.

"Prince Chrom, what is it you know?" Marth murmurs as they scan the treeline.

"That's not a normal wolf howl." Chrom says firmly. "And I would reckon we'll be seeing by the time tomorrow arrives."

"You are so certain?" Marth asks quietly.

"Yes."

"I understand then." The masked man murmurs, and then says something surprising. "The visions are never wrong."

That gives Chrom pause. "You have visions too?"

"Indeed." Marth turns to face him directly, with serious pursed lips. "The Chained Lady has yet to lead me wrong."

"I…" Chrom has no idea what to say. He never considered there might be others. "How did you know I had visions?"

"A guess." Marth says apologetically. Chrom has a nagging feeling the masked swordsman isn't being truthful though.

"I see…" Chrom turns away for a moment, pretending to scan the forest to give himself a moment to think.

"What was it you saw?"

"A dire wolf." The Prince whispers. "A Risen dire wolf as large as me. It used to be imprisoned beneath an alter."

"Likely it is the bones were buried, and the shrine put overtop as protection." Marth murmurs. "I presume the shrine is broken, else the wolf would never have become a Risen. The shrine's magic would have prevented that."

"You are familiar with the Chained Lady's powers?"

"Indeed."

"Ah." Chrom wonders if perhaps Marth is the Chained Lady's chosen champion and not himself. After all, it is rather arrogant for him to assume he's important for no reason. After all, the Chained Lady needs any disciple she can get, and he just so happened to be someone who would listen to her.

"Do not doubt yourself Prince Chrom." Marth says as if reading his thoughts. "I guarantee you are no less a champion than myself."

"How do you know?"

Marth smirks. "I was told as much in a dream."

"Of course." Chrom snorts.

A second howl slices the air, and they're reminded what exactly it is that brought on this conversation. Marth draws his own blade as they slowly circle the camp, looking for where the wolf will appear.

"Milord…" Frederick says as he approaches the two of them. "It is simply a few wolves, they dare not bother a group as large as us."

"Under normal circumstances I would agree." Chrom says. "But these are not normal circumstances Frederick. The living dead roam the earth, we have already seen Risen horses for the cavaliers, who's to say dead wolves cannot be similarly resurrected?"

"I had not considered such a thing." Frederick admits. "Should we send a team to hunt them?"

"Perhaps…" Chrom glances at Marth, who shakes his head.

"The wolf- er, wolves will come to us if they are Risen." The man coughs. "It is best we stay here in a defensible position. Venturing off in the woods, even in a group, is a recipe for disaster in a case like this. It is getting dark after all."

"A fine point." Frederick nods.

It doesn't take too long for the wolf, for of course it is only one, to come stalking out of the forest in the dying sunlight. It's just like in Chrom's dream… with the exception of one thing. The idol Chrom saw is caught in the bone spikes on the creature's back.

"What is that thing?" Sumia says nervously as she clutches her spear.

"A dire wolf huh?" Sully grins. "We get to kill a legendary creature. How about that?"

"Such a majestic beast… were it not an undead monstrosity of course." Virion hums and nocks an arrow. "On your command Prince Chrom."

Everyone seems rather unphased by this, maybe because it's just one creature, and a single creature (even a powerful one) is usually easier to handle than many smaller ones. Especially considering Sully has a beast killer in hand, this should be easier than their usual fights despite the strangeness of it.

It doesn't end up being that simple.

The wolf smashes through their lines easily. It's thick hide causes swords and axes to bounce off, and the lance wielders are knocked on their backs before their weapons can pierce the skin. The horses whinny and buck, showing fear in the presence of their predator and nearly unseating their riders.

It's only Chrom, with the magical Falchion, that lands a solid blow on the beast. The sword cuts a gash on its stomach as it charges by, and the dire wolf quickly turns around to face Chrom with bared teeth. It snaps at his head, and it's only Falchion coming up in front of him that stops his skull from being crushed.

"Hah!" Marth shouts, and manages to bury his own blade into the wolf's hindquarters where it sinks up to the hilt. Marth then wrenches the blade free creating a gaping hole in the wolf and sending purple smoke billowing out into the air.

The wolf now whips around to snap at Marth, but the masked man has already moved out of range. The wolf charges at him, and when he dives out of the way the wolf skids into a tent, breaking it, as it's claws try to grip the snow beneath it.

A blast of fire from Miriel scorches the monster's face, and an arrow finds purchase in it's shoulder. Frederick has dismounted, and fearlessly rushes the wolf with lance glinting in the moonlight. The silver point meets the monster's chin and pierces through the hide with the force of Frederick's thrust.

Frederick firmly plants his feet as the monster thrashes wildly. It tries in vain to get the lance out of its head, but the knight is stalwart and refuses to be dislodged from his stance. The monster starts to dissolve from its wounds, and the snarls grow quiet as the upper body fades into purple smoke. The idol, previously caught in the bone ridges, falls silently to the snow.

Chrom walks over to the idol and picks it off the ground. It's just like he saw in his dream: a sleeping and chained woman in a coat so large it looks like a coffin.

"What is that Milord?" Frederick asks, peering down at the small statue.

"The figure of an old god, the Chained Lady." Chrom murmurs as he wipes the snow and dirt off the idol. It's slightly eroded in places, and the straight dark purple color of the stone makes small details even harder to distinguish.

"Who's that?" Lissa asks curiously.

"A deity from a time long past, older than Mila and Duma. A goddess of imprisonment, prophecy, dreams, and restraint." Marth supplies in a low tone. "She is forgotten, but not dead. She is also known as the Sleeping Lady as an old legend claims that she rests beneath the ground in a permanent slumber and communicates only through dreams and visions. Supposedly she also watches the world through the eyes of creatures she has bound with her chains."

"Creepy." The princess shivers. "So, uh, can we fix the camp and get that fire going? I'm freezing."

###

The chain link, bound in it's smaller chains, dangles from Chrom's fingers as he stares at it. The flickering torch light of his room in the Feroxi castle reflects off the shining metal.

The idol rests nearby. Just like the link and the toy robin it too underwent a transformation as Chrom slept. The idol is now painted: the coat is brown with black sigils carved on it, and the woman's face is pale like a corpse except for the lips which are a vibrant red.

The Chained Lady's words swim through Chrom's head as he sits there. "Learn, listen, dream, fight" the Prince whispers to the empty room. Sometimes he wonders if the Chained Lady can hear him even if the bird isn't nearby. Can she see and hear through him as well?

Is he becoming a puppet to this old god? Does he have to worry? It could be argue that all of Ylisse is a puppet to Naga, but that's never been an issue up until his father's war, and one incident doesn't prove that Naga influence over Ylisse is a bad thing.

Chrom simply doesn't know the Chained Lady's disposition, and that's the problem. She could be a total maniac and the only thing keeping him safe is Grima's uprising… and Chrom is helping her come back. He's already supplied her with a pair of eyes in the toy robin, and he's allowing her to influence his actions.

Marth seems to trust the Chained Lady, but that's no guarantee that Marth has fully thought this through or has all the information he needs.

Or maybe Chrom is just being paranoid. He can imagine Emmeryn scolding him for distrusting someone just because they happen to be powerful. That's like a citizen distrusting the royal family just because they make laws, and not because they've done anything wrong.

"I wonder how okay Naga is with someone marked by her being the champion of another god." Chrom wonders as he glances at the mark on his shoulder and Falchion in its scabbard. "How would I even know? It's not like I can talk to Naga."

This is all too much for him. Chrom never asked to get tangled up with beings of immense power, he doesn't know what to do. Sure he can listen, learn, dream, and fight, but what is he supposed to learn about? What is he supposed to listen for?

Maybe that's his problem. He hasn't been actively trying to do anything beyond deal with the brigands. If he wants to learn he needs to decide what he needs to learn about, and what to listen for.

"Well, the Risen are clearly a problem." Chrom muses aloud. "Learning about them would be useful. Learning about Plegia might Ylisse some good to help deal with this war too..."

There's no response from the room around him. Chrom will admit he was secretly hoping for some sort of sign, but maybe the Chained Lady expected him to figure this out on his own.

Well it's decided then. In his free time, he'll learn about Plegia. The Risen are a bit more problematic, he wouldn't know where to start with them. Maybe Miriel will have an idea.

###

"Ah, yes, the Risen." The scholarly mage pushes up her glasses. "You are interested in them Milord?"

"They are ravaging our country. I must be interested in them." Chrom says grimly. "If you know the enemy and yourself, you never need fear a battle between the two."

"Sun Tzu, the famous Chon'sin general." Miriel says instantly. "You have read the Art of War?"

"It was part of my military training." The Prince shrugs. "Either way, what do you know about the Risen?"

"Not as much as I wish I did." The mage admits with a grimace. "Unfortunately they dissolve when defeated, so it is impossible for me to conduct experiments or just study them without risking injury."

"What do you know?"

"They are animated by dark magic." Miriel offers. "And while the capabilities of their old body are important to their functioning as undead, they display an alarming range of movement far past what any human would be capable of. I suspect the magic used to animate them also allows for such things. Also of note is the fact that their head is their vulnerable spot, which shows that the head is important to them somehow. If they were true puppets of magic, cutting off the head would be irrelevant unless there is some sort of control device."

"The mask?" Chrom suggests. "Their faces always look unnatural, even if the rest of their body looks normal if a bit purple."

"That… is something I had not considered." Miriel says. She quickly pulls out a notebook and scribbles in it. "Yes, yes, that would make sense. But where do the masks come from? Are they a result of the magic too? Why are they needed…?"

"I'm afraid you are far more capable of answering that then me. Can I trust you to look into it?" The prince asks hopefully.

"Of course my lord!" Miriel nods eagerly. "I was already doing so, and you have been most helpful!"

"Glad I could help then." Chrom nods grimly. "Oh, and one other thing."

"Yes?"

"You're going to be part of the arena team. If you need any repairs to your armor or weapons, get them quickly. I will pay to have them given top priority."

"I shall not disappoint." Miriel says confidently. "You will have my best in the battle Milord."

"I expect nothing less." The Prince says.

###

"So we have an alliance then?" Chrom asks Flavia, extending a hand.

The Shepherds proved victorious is their battle against Basilio's champions. The strongest of the group, a Chon'sin man named Lon'qu, proved especially difficult. It was Marth who managed to defeat the man, but only after he'd thoroughly thrashed Chrom. Basilio, in a gesture of good faith, had actually gifted them Lon'qu to help in the war effort alongside a battle dancer by the name of Olivia.

"Of course we do!" The Khan laughs. "Ferox will happily join Ylisse's efforts against Plegia! We've been looking for an excuse to pound them into the dirt for years!"

"That's good to hear." Chrom sighs. "We are grateful for your help. Our own efforts have been stymied by bandits and Risen."

"Demobilization doesn't help." Flavia scoffs. "You don't got the army for it."

"I know." The Prince grimaces. "Emmeryn is difficult sometimes."

"Well, Ferox will lend a hand until she comes to her senses." Flavia says to Chrom's surprise. "We ain't Ylissian, but we won't let your people suffer just because your sister is being hard-headed."

"Ylisse is most thankful." Chrom smiles tiredly. The fight took a lot out of him, and it's already evening."

"Don't be falling asleep on us yet, there's still a party to attend!" The Khan laughs and slaps the Prince on the back.

"Right." Chrom coughs. Inwardly he groans at the fact he's now expected to stay up for several more hours.

The party is not like a fancy Ylissian noble party. It's more like being at a very large bar with all the ale being poured and the casually dressed warriors sitting everywhere. The Shepherds meld into the crowd rather easily for the most part. Only Frederick looks like he feels out of place with all the informality and roughhousing. Even Sumia is enjoying herself as she chats with a spear woman who took part in the tournament.

Chrom mostly sticks at the main table, accepting the occasional beer and eating some food. Thankfully not too many people want to talk with him or expect him to do anything, so he's free to stay in his seat and rest.

"Say Prince." Flavia says after few hours of talking with her various warriors. She finally has a free moment, and has turned to him. "I wanted to ask, what's with that necklace you're wearing?"

Chrom glances down, and notes with faint horror that the necklace has been pushed up from how he was slouching against the chair and the string (well, the smaller chain going around his neck) is visible.

"Ah, this..." Chrom shifts so the necklace slips out of sight. "Just something I found."

"I did not realize you had a necklace Milord." Frederick says curiously. "I was not aware you owned one."

"It's… well…" Chrom sighs. "Frederick, remember how we talked about my strange habits?"

"Yes?"

"Well this is part of it." He pulls out the chain link necklace for them both to see. "It is a symbol."

"Oho..." Flavia says. She's smiling, but there's a hard edge to her eyes. "You're certainly playing with fire, aren't you Prince?"

"A bit." Chrom sighs. "However, she has proven helpful so far."

"Who?" Frederick questions.

"The Chained Lady." Marth says as he suddenly appears at their table. "An old god, somewhat obscure even in her own time."

"That idol we found was also of her." Chrom adds. "I got a vision of it and the dire wolf the night before."

"I see." Frederick's expression is unreadable.

"Well then, I do hope this goddess of yours doesn't end up being more trouble than she's worth. Gods rarely do things for free." Flavia says warily. "Be wary Prince."

"I will."

###

Marth catches Chrom just as he's about to turn in for the night. They're most of the way back to Ylisse after their trip to Ferox. "Prince Chrom, I would speak with you."

"Of course." Chrom is tired, but he stands up tall and ready. "What is it?"

"I need to leave for a while." Marth confesses. "Now that you have Ferox's help, it would seem to be a good time for me to leave and handle my own affairs for a bit."

"How long is a bit?"

"A few months most likely. I must travel."

"I see…" Chrom says slowly. "Well, far be it for me to stop you. I wish you all the best."

"My thanks." The man bows. "I think you will find my mission helpful. I promise to return as soon as possible."

"We will anxiously await your return then." Chrom says. He extends a hand, and Marth grabs it and shakes. "Come back alive, friend."

"I will fa- friend." Marth coughs.

###

At first, Chrom doesn't realize it's a dream. He wakes up in his room feeling very refreshed, and gets dressed as normal. He slips the necklace under his shirt, and steps out of his door.

He walks straight into the gardens, which is the first red flag. His room does not lead directly outside. The sky is blue slightly cloudy but not purple and corrupted like most of his other dreams.

The royal gardens are a bit of a maze, but Chrom has long since memoried the layout. He makes his way to the center of the garden where an old oak tree rests in the middle of a flower bed.

The oak tree looks fine, but there's someone dangling from the branches. A figure, looking just like the idol, hangs by chains from the lowermost branches of the tree. The coat is brown with black sigils, and the chains that bind her clack quietly in a faint breeze. There's a bench situated directly in front of her.

There's also a dozen chained robins sitting silent and motionless in the tree. Some are looking down at him, but others are staring at their surrounding.

Chrom pauses in front of his patron. Her face looks calm in sleep, serene. The idol well represented her face with the pale-as-a-corpse skin and red lips. It didn't, however, catch her tousled white hair that disappears into her oversized coat.

"Hello my Lady." Chrom greets cautiously.

"Prince…" Her lips don't move, and her voice whispers from the wind rather than seeming to come from her mouth. "Sit…"

Chrom does so. He takes a seat on the bench in front of her. Her form looms over him from this position, and the Prince can't help but feel slightly intimidated. "This is unusual for you. Usually you just dump me into some apocalyptic scenario."

"Would you... prefer that...?"

"No, no, I'm perfectly happy with this!" Chrom says hastily.

"I see…" For a moment, Chrom swears he sees the lady's mouth twitch into a smile, but it might just be a trick of the mind. She's been totally motionless otherwise after all.

"What is it you want to tell me this time?" Chrom asks cautiously.

"You have… questions…" The Chained Lady whispers.

"Well, yes." The Prince blinks in surprise.

"I will… hear them…"

Chrom is shocked. He never expected to be able to ask the Chained Lady about anything he wants. He expected that she would keep her distance as befitting a goddess. "I… uh… well…"

The Prince flounders for a moment as he tries to collect his thoughts. He is not prepared for this at all!

"So…" Chrom coughs, gathering his senses. "I would ask why you chose me of all people to help you. Was it my position?"

"No…" The lady whispers. Again, her mouth doesn't move, but he can hear her voice on the wind. "I had… a vision… of you…"

"Ah." Chrom didn't know a goddess could have visions. He thought she only gave them out.

"You are… suspicious…" It's not a question. She knows he's wary of her.

The Prince debates trying to say no for a moment, but quickly decides it's pointless. "Yes. I am."

"Why…?"

"You're powerful, and ancient, and unknown to me." Chrom says bluntly. "I listen to you at the moment because we have a mutual enemy, and you know more than me about it. Aside from that, your motivations, goals, and just general personality are all unknown to me."

"Ah…" Again, Chrom swears he sees a twitch of a smile. "How amusing…"

"How so?"

"You treat me… as if I am… an equal…" She whispers. "Most would… not care… to know… the personality… of a god…"

"Well, you are person." Chrom says cautiously. "And that means you have a personality, and it would be to my benefit to know something about you."

"I see…" She hums. "Well… it is… simple…"

The wind picks up around them: the chains clatter loudly, and the Chained Lady's hood flutters as air rushes past it. Suddenly, sunlight pours into the gardens. The clouds are gone and everything is bright. Only the area under the large tree has any shade to it, and even there a few beams of light snake through gaps in the leaves to touch down on the ground.

"I want... this…" She whispers. "Look…"

Chrom turns around. He's not met with the sight of the garden, but instead a city. The two of them are floating overtop of it on a small island, and from up here Chrom can see people walking all through the city. People chat in the city center, walk into stores and bars, lie in gardens, and generally look at peace.

"I am… not so… different… than you…" The Chained Lady hums. "I may seem… intimidating… but that… does not… reflect… my intent…"

"And your intent is a peaceful city?" The Prince blinks. "That's it?"

"A peaceful… world…" She whispers. "Yes…"

"That's not so simple as it seems." Chrom grimaces. He's had this talk with Emmeryn before.

"Yes…" She agrees. "But… it is… something… to strive for…"

"I suppose it is." Chrom agrees after a moment of thought. "That might mean war though. Violence, death, horror."

"Undoubtedly..." The Chained Lady agrees. "A lofty goal… but impossible…? I say… no..."

"And I'd agree." The Prince nods. He's genuinely surprised at how normal the Chained Lady seems: ominous whispers on the wind, complete motionless, and extreme power notwithstanding. "Another question."

"Yes…"

"Do you have a name? Or do are you just called the Chained Lady or the Sleeping Lady?" Chrom questions.

There's quiet for a moment. Some of the chained birds in the tree stiffly move their gaze over to him from other positions they were watching. Eventually, the reply comes. "Guess…"

"Uh…" Chrom's mind races for something appropriate. Latin maybe? "Somnum?"

"No…"

The Prince suddenly notices that he's starting to feel faint. He slumps on the bench while trying to support himself with his arms.

"It seems… our time… is up…" She whispers. "Next time… another guess…"

Chrom collapses from the bench to the grass. Something wraps under his shoulders, hoisting him into the air like the Chained Lady herself. As his vision fades he swears, for a moment, he sees the Lady shift in her coat and her hands slowly unfold before reaching out towards him.

###

Chrom finds it's nice to not be constantly worrying if he's doing the right thing or not. The conversation he has with the Chained Lady really helped his conscience on whether or not he should even be listening to her.

He's also been making a list of possible names to guess next time they talk… but he has no idea what to expect. Is it going to be an old latin name? A modern sounding name? Chrom simply doesn't know.

"Milord!" Frederick suddenly barges into his room. "Maribelle is being held hostage by Plegia! King Gangrel has demanded an audience with your sister! We are to leave within the hour!"

A peaceful day is too much to ask for apparently. "Go and inform the Shepherds. We shall ride as an escort."

The ride to the border takes a few days. Chrom gets no visions in that time, but he wishes he did. The nightmares that plague the nights of their rushed journey are far less pleasant than even the most startling of the Chained Lady's visions.

At the very least the Shepherds don't find themselves constantly fighting Risen and bandits; the accompanying royal guards and pegasus knights handle those. Trees go by mostly unnoticed as Chrom is occupied with his thoughts.

Eventually Emmeryn and the Shepherds arrive at the main border pass, otherwise known as Dead Man's Pass. Gangrel stands partway down the right-side hill with a dark-skinned lady in a skimpy dress standing next to him. Plegian troops dot the hills on either side of the pass, mostly barbarians and myrmidons with a few wyvern riders waiting in the wings.

"Ah, Lady Emmeryn." Gangrel sneers down at the group. "So glad you could join us."

"King Gangrel." Emmeryn says evenly. "I have come to resolve this issue."

"I see you have." The Mad King says with a smirk. "I'll admit, I never thought you'd stoop to sending someone important to trespass in order to get my attention. Are you really so desperate?"

"Pardon?"

"You could have just sent a messenger!" Gangrel cackles. "Don't let the title fool you, I'm not angry, I'm flattered… but really, a message works just fine."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Well if you want to play coy, I suppose we'll have to treat this as an affront. You, dear Exalt, sent this girl into Plegian." Gangrel snaps a finger, and a cloaked figure brings out Maribelle who has her wrists bound behind her back.

Chrom fixates on the cloaked figure. The cloak has the same design as the one the Chained Lady wore, but it's got different symbols and different colours. It's black rather than brown, and and has gold decorating the corners and the buttons. The inside is purple, as are some highlights on the sleeves.

"How curious…" Chrom thinks with narrowed eyes.

"Do not believe him your Grace!" Maribelle cries out. "These wretches invaded Themis and pulled me from my grand house, but only after slaying my father and mother!"

"Hierophant, quiet the girl please." Gangrel sighs. The cloaked figure pulls out a cloth and wraps it around Maribelle's head over her mouth. "Now, Lady Emmeryn… let us negotiate. In order for this transgression to be forgiven, Plegian asks for- no, demands, the Fire Emblem as recompense."

"The Fire Emblem?" Emmeryn says in surprise. "What good would the Fire Emblem do for Plegia?"

"Why, serve as a morale boost!" Gangrel cackles. "A shining symbol of Plegian dominance over her most ruthless neighbour! Just imagine the Fire Emblem on display in the Plegian palace!"

"I-I see." Emmeryn grimaces. "King Gangrel, you know I cannot agree to that."

"Even for the girl's life…?" Gangrel says with a sweeping gesture towards Maribelle.

The Exalt is silent for a moment. Chrom knows what is going through her mind. There's no way she's going to value an object over someone's life, but giving up Ylisse's second-most prized possession (second only to Falchion) will be an incredible blow to morale.

"Time is ticking Lady Emmeryn." Gangrel says. "What is your response?"

Chrom's hand itches on his sword. He almost, almost, wishes Gangrel would just send someone to attack so they could go to war. It would stop all this posturing and they'd finally confront the issue between their countries.

Instead it seems like this posturing is going to continue, but with additional humiliation for Ylisse.

"Mph!" Maribelle shouts in muffled protest. Chrom would guess from her defiant expression towards Emmeryn that Maribelle is trying to say something along the lines of "don't you dare give up the Fire Emblem for me!"

But of course Emmeryn will. She's not going to let someone die over a fancy shield, even a magic one.

Chrom is more surprised that Gangrel hasn't tried to instigate war here though. It seems very unlike him to not pounce on this opportunity.

"King Gangrel…" Emmeryn says slowly. "It seems you misunderstand the situation here."

"Pardon!?" Gangrel sounds incredulous.

"You assume that you have leverage." The Exalt says serenely. "And that is not so. I knew the exact details of Maribelle's capture well before coming here, and I know quite well that you have not the manpower here to back up any sort of threat."

"I can still kill the girl." Gangrel threatens.

Emmeryn surprises everyone when she looks the man dead in the eyes and says one word: "Try."

There's a minute of tension as the two rulers stare each other down. Chrom can't deny his sister looks very powerful standing at the head of their troops with her head held high and the butt of her staff planted in the dirt. Gangrel looks like a poor mockery of a true king in comparison with his slightly off-balance stance and hunched posture.

"Well… I'll admit, I didn't expect you to have a backbone." Gangrel says, sounding impressed. "What's your card Lady Emmeryn? What's your ace?"

"Why would I tell you?" The Exalt says with a serene smile. "Surprise makes an ace all the more effective."

"So it does…" The king says as he glances nervously around him. The dark-skinned lady next to him leans over and whispers in his ear, and Gangrel nods quickly. "Well Lady Emmeryn, it would seem we are at a standstill then."

"Hardly." Emmeryn whispers. Her expression grows dark, and surprisingly angry. "Let me be clear: if you harm Maribelle in any way, a single hair out of place, you will not live to see the sunset… and I do not think your country can handle the death of yet another ruler."

A chill runs down Chrom's spine. He's never seen that expression on his sister's face. Her normally serene and soft features are turned to something sharp and serious. The effect is noticeable in Gangrel and even his advisor (who seems somewhat unnerved despite being composed a moment before).

"Do you understand, King?" The Exalt says. She's not speaking particularly loudly, but the otherwise dead silence allows her voice to carry further than it would otherwise. "Leave, now. If you attempt such a farce again, I will not be so tolerant."

Emmeryn doesn't even wait for a response. She turns on her heel, and walks away from the pass. The Shepherds, still somewhat in shock, part to let her through and her pegasus guard fall in line quickly. The Exalt pauses a dozen strides into the Ylissian ranks, and glances back at Gangrel.

"And I expect Maribelle back as well, of course."

Chrom stares in disbelief as he watches Gangrel gives some rushed orders, and Maribelle is swiftly set free. The Plegian troops quickly pull back into a tight formation around Gangrel, ostensibly protecting against a surprise attack.

"Wow Sis…" Lissa says. "That was… something."

"Thank you."

"We don't have an ace." Chrom says as he glances over at her. "Do we?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Wait, that was all a bluff?" Lissa blinks.

"Indeed."

"Most impressive Milady." Virion praises with a cheeky smile. "You never told me you were a tactician!"

"I am a diplomat Duke Virion." Emmeryn murmurs. Now that Chrom is paying closer attention, he can see that Emmeryn's hands are actually shaking from nerves. "And any good diplomat knows the value of a well-placed lie."

"Well…" Chrom chuckles to himself in slight disbelief. "She didn't stay Exalt by being a fool, that's for sure."

###

"Torque?"

"No…"

"Damn." Chrom sighs.

This time, they're not in the gardens. The Prince and the Chained Lady are instead seated (or at least Chrom is seated, the Chained Lady is hanging from a tree again) on top of a tall hill overlooking… somewhere. Chrom doesn't recognize the city at all. The architecture is foreign, the landscape surrounding it is unfamiliar, and the flora looks mostly foreign.

"So, where is this? It doesn't look like any place I've seen."

"This is... from my... memory…" She murmurs. "A very… very… long time… ago…"

"What is it? Er… what was it?"

"Solcast." The Chained Lady murmurs. "The Fortress of the Sun…"

"How old is it?"

"Many… many… years older… than Archanea…" The Lady whispers. "Not my… city… but… a grand one…"

"Did you ever have a city?"

"No…" She whispers. "I was never… popular… so to speak…"

"Imprisonment and chains. I can see why." Chrom chuckles. "That's not exactly what the public finds themself concerned with most of the time."

"Indeed…"

Both of them are quiet for a few minutes as Chrom marvels at the old city. It's made largely of sandstone and clay, with only the central palace being made of stone. It gives the city a brown and dull red color palette thanks to the clay walls, and tiled, mud, or straw roofs.

"Prince… I have… a message… today…" The Lady whispers.

"What is it?"

"A vision…"

The scene below them changes. The sky goes an ominously familiar purple, and the ground is dead and grey once again. Grima isn't in the sky, but the howling winds make Chrom wonder if the giant dragon is nearby to displace all this air.

This looks somewhat like Ylisse again. The (half dead by the looks of it) deciduous forest couldn't be found elsewhere on Archanea. Those sorts of trees aren't found much in Ferox, and Plegia has only oases and a handful of badlands with a few lone trees.

Well, Plegia also has the Fey Jungle, the Titan Sinkhole, and the Dead Swamp, but they're all very distinctive and exceedingly lethal.

"There…" A single chain snakes out from the tree to point to Chrom's left. He looks in that direction, and quickly notices a small rag-tag group of people rushing through the forest below.

There are eighteen people from what Chrom can count, and they have far more than that number in Risen on their tail. From this distance Chrom can't quite make out who they might be though. "Who are they?"

"I cannot say…" The Chained Lady says. "I know… but… I cannot… tell you…"

That's mildly frustrating, but Chrom trusts that the Chained Lady has a reason for this. "Will I find out?"

"Eventually…" She reassures. "But for now… watch."

So he does just that. He watches the eighteen people dodge and weave through the trees and dodge spells and arrows being lobbed their way. Chrom can actually hear the moans and gasps of the Risen as the charge after their prey. This sound comes from all around him as well, and when he spares a glance around him the Prince can see Risen pouring in from all around. This group is going to surrounded soon.

"They're not going to make it." Chrom grimaces.

"Not so…"

For a moment Chrom doesn't understand what she means. The only thing he sees aside from trees, Risen, and the group, is a run-down stone building of some sort.

The group is making a beeline for that building. The Prince has no idea what to expect. How are they going to escape from a pack of Risen using an old building?

Chrom doesn't see what they do, but he sees the result. Space distorts in their area and a shockwave visibly ripples through the air. Something that looks like a bubble appears in the middle of the ruins, and is quickly surrounded by a number of crystals. The group quickly piles through until only two are left.

"I recognize that…" The Prince mutters. "The night of the first Risen attack, I saw that."

Chrom can't hear them, but he can see their arms waving as they seem to be arguing. Eventually, when one turns to cut down a Risen that got too close, the other figure grabs them by their collar and throws them headlong into the portal. A few Risen slip into the portal in chase, but with a quick flash of lightning the bubble-like portal shatters with another visible shockwave and stops other Risen passing through.

One person remains. Someone who intentionally stayed behind. With the help of the crackling electricity around them Chrom can make out the Levin Sword they're holding. There's several more flashes of lightning as the individual lashes out at Risen diving at him, but it's a hopeless fight. Eventually the figure, tired and no longer able to fight, raises their sword one last time and smashes it into the stones below him. There's a sharp cracking noise like a thunderclap a sudden flash of light; several Risen disintegrate from the explosion, as does the wielder of the sword leaving no trace of his existence beyond a few piece of mangled metal and a black scorch mark on the old stones.

Then... silence. The Risen fall quiet, the wind dies down, and the world is dead is once again.

There are plenty of ways to die, but dying in a hopeless fight with no guarantee that your fellows survived is not something Chrom envies, heroic sacrifice or otherwise.

"And so… this world… dies…" The Chained Lady whispers. "No hope… to be found… here…"

"This is our possible future?"

"Yes… and one… that has... happened… to another world…" The Lady says. "This world… from which… those sseventeen… escaped… to ours…"

"Time travellers?"

"Not quite…" She murmurs. "Dimension jumping… is more accurate… but… to be fair… it is close enough… to time travel… so as to… not make… a big difference…"

"I sense a caveat."

"Their world… the one… we see here… will remain… dead…" the Lady informs him solemnly.

"They live in our world now?"

"Yes…"

"So we don't make the same mistakes?"

"Yes…"

"So why can't I know who they are again?"

The Chained Lady hums. "It is not… my place… to say…"

"You're a goddess."

She chuckles quietly. "Even so..."

###

The talk at the Border Pass bought Ylisse a bit of time before all-out war. Emmeryn reluctantly allowed for a larger standing army for Ylisse's defence, and while it's nowhere near as large as Chrom would like it's certainly better than they had before.

This extra time also sees the return of Marth, who is surprised when he's told they aren't at war yet.

"Truly?" He asks in surprise. "How unusual…"

Marth also brings along some companions he found in his travels. One is a taguel by the name of Panne, another a thief named Gaius, there's a dark mage called Henry and his pet crows (including one in particular that sticks close to him called Fog), as well as a dramatic blonde-haired boy and a polite spectacled mage who don't give their names.

"I have found all these people trustworthy." Marth informs the Prince. "I would ask they be considered for the Shepherds. I can vouch for their skills and good intent."

"We realize you might be caw-tious." Henry jokes. "But don't worry, I think you'll find we're birds of a feather! Nyahahaha!"

"Caw!" Fog chimes in.

"I trust you Marth." Chrom says after a few moments. "I will give these people a chance to prove their intent. Far be it for me to turn down assistance out of hand, especially in such tense times."

"Yaaaay!" Henry laughs.

"I am here to fulfil a debt, nothing more…" Panne mutters. "However, so long as that debt stands, you will have nothing but my best."

"I was promised candy…" Gaius grunts. "But really, this gig looks a lot better than sneaking around."

"My fell sword hand twitches with rage! It yearns for combat in the defence of it home!" The blonde-haired boy cries out.

"You have my assistance." The mage says while bowing to Chrom. "I hope I can be of use."

Well, at the very least the mage looks promising.

###

War may have been delayed, but it came eventually. Plegia never formally declared it, they simply marched into Ylisse with an army unannounced. Thankfully by this time the Feroxi have mobilized, and the newer recruits of the Ylissian armies have at least a little training (though are still woefully undertrained, and Emmeryn hopes she won't have to throw them into a fight anytime soon).

Visions from the Chained Lady (which Chrom now realizes come regularly, once a week) are now totally focused on the war. Chrom hasn't mentioned it to anyone beyond Marth, but half of the reason they're doing so well in battles is because he knows what's going to happen beforehand. The Chained Lady's foresight is integral to their victory.

They recruit a few more people during the numerous battles that follow, including a manakete, a middle-aged mercenary, yet another dark mage, and a war monk.

It's all going so well… then they get to the bones of Grima, and suddenly they're in very deep trouble.

Chrom doesn't know how all these Plegain troops managed to surround them without them noticing, but the fact that each group has a few mages with fire tomes bodes very poorly for him. With one snap of someone's fingers all those mages could shoot on them, and the Shepherds would be caught in a literal crossfire.

Slowly, Chrom pulls Falchion out. He doesn't see an easy way out of this, and he had no vision from the Chained Lady about this.

"Chrom…?" Lissa whispers. "This isn't good…"

"I know Lissa." He grimaces. "Virion?"

"We will not leave here without casualties if we fight." The archer informes him solemnly. "Our other option though…"

"These don't look like Grimleal, so surrender is a bit better that it would be otherwise." Tharja informs them in a raspy tone. "Despite appearances, the king and his subordinates are a lot nicer to their prisoners than Grimleal."

"Milord, someone approaches." Frederick whispers down to them. "It seems to be the hierophant we saw during the talk at the border pass. He is waving a white flag."

"He wishes to talk then? Well, considering our situation, I'm not sure we can refuse." Chrom grimaces. "I will meet him. Is he alone?"

"Yes."

"Then I too shall go alone."

"But-"

"We can't risk presenting a threat at the moment Frederick. We'll be fried."

So Chrom walks out all on his own to meet the cloaked figure. He's very aware of a few archers and mages behind the man aiming their weapons at him, but they refrain from shooting.

"Prince Chrom." The hierophant greets as they stop a few arm lengths away from each other.

"Hierophant." Chrom responds evenly. "You'll have to excuse me, I never caught your name last time."

"Reflet. A pleasure to properly meet you." The man steps forward and extends a hand, which Chrom cautiously shakes. Now that he's close enough the Prince can see a bit under Reflet's hood, and he sees white hair, brown eyes, and pale skin. "I wish to talk."

"Well, seeing as you have us at arrowpoint, I suppose I'll listen." The snark makes its way into Chrom's voice unbidden, and he internally winces. He shouldn't be antagonizing this man considering the situation.

"Yes, well, I couldn't easily send a messenger without it being looked into by someone else." Reflet chuckles. Thankfully he doesn't seem offended. "Anyways, I have a proposal for you."

"And what is this proposal?" Chrom asks tensely.

"Over the course of the war, Plegia has taken some prisoners." Reflet explains. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a long list. "About… four hundred? Only a few seem to be people of note of course, but I'm sure you're interested in getting them back."

"Yes…"

"Well, as it happens, Plegia has some issues." Reflet's voice drops low. "We have internal problems here. The crown is not in control as it seems, and the Grimleal are close to overthrowing Gangrel. Plegia is already struggling, it cannot afford another violent government takeover."

"So what does this have to do with Ylisse? You want us to kill the Grimleal?"

"No. Well I do, but that's unreasonable to ask." Reflet says. "Gangrel will not stay on the throne, even he knows this. If rulership of Plegia must transition, it needs to be relatively clean, but there's no way for Gangrel to step down without it looking suspicious, and if he doesn't he'll be assassinated soon enough."

"Okay…"

"So, he wants your help." Reflet says. "Soon, all the prisoners of war Plegia has captured will be transferred deeper into the country so as to be out of Ylisse's reach. Now, say, if the Ylissian army were to conveniently stumble along that location, and the troops guarding the prisoners conveniently happened to be defectors…"

Chrom can't believe what he's hearing. "You would work against Plegia?"

"I work against the Grimleal, but also for peace." Reflet corrects. "And it just so happens that the most convenient way to do both is to have Ylisse retake her prisoners of war."

"What does that have to do with working against the Grimleal? And what about Gangrel?"

"Gangrel will be disguised as a prisoner to escape Plegia safely, and you will announce he was killed in battle against the Shepherds." Reflet whispers. "He is willing to cooperate and help the war effort if it means a quicker and less bloody end to this war."

"I thought he wanted this war."

"That is a facade. The Grimleal want this war, and to avoid being usurped even earlier Gangrel had to oblige." Reflet murmurs. "He's kept their more maniacal machinations at bay so far, but his time as ruler is coming to a swift end. Plegia will be taken over by the Grimleal, and so it's best he survives to plot their eventual downfall, but that the transition is relatively smooth right now to avoid more problems for the populace."

That's not what Chrom expected, but admittedly he's never been well-versed in politics. "Well, it's hardly an offer we can refuse. I'll need to ask Emmeryn, but I can't imagine her refusing."

"Then we're a team now, partner?" Reflet asks. He again extends his hand, and this time Chrom doesn't hesitate to grab it.

"Indeed, partner."

###

Gangrel's so-called death brings a quick end to the war. The new king, a Grimleal by the name of Validar, quickly offers to cease hostilities. Reflet and Gangrel both predicted this would happen. The new government needs time to consolidate its power even if they'd love to continue the war.

In the meantime, the Ylisse royal palace now has a large number of very peculiar individuals living in its halls. Reflet, Gangrel, and a former general named Mustafa all reside there and are constantly consulting with Ylissian generals and Emmeryn. The troops that came along with them (Mustafa's and Reflet's personal units, as well as some close allies of Gangrel's) have caused surprisingly little issue in the time they've been in the city. When not training, they've actually taken to patrolling the nearby woods to fight Risen (with some Ylissian troops tagging along to make sure they don't cause problems, but so far there's been no issues).

Marth disappeared at the end of the war again, but not before handing Chrom a large book titled "Obscure Gods of the Ancient Pantheon" which the man somehow picked up while they were in Plegia.

It has all the information Chrom could ever want on the Chained Lady… and it's started to give him ideas.

That's why during his next conversation with the Chained Lady, after another failed guess at her name, he brings up something he's been looking into for the last few weeks.

"My Lady…" Chrom says slowly. "Do you have a body?"

"What a… peculiar… question…" She murmurs. "But yes… somewhere… under the ground… I rest…"

"How would you feel…" Chrom says hesitantly. "About surfacing?"

There's quiet for a moment. Then she whispers "I cannot… I am… too weak… and nowhere close… to here…"

"I know, I know… but I've been consulting with Miriel, Tharja, and Henry, and we all agreed that if Grima could possibly be revived, it should be totally possible to summon you from wherever you are in the world." Chrom proposes. "It's up to you of course. We won't go ahead without your say so."

"You would… trust me…?" She whispers. "I am… a god… and gods… are dangerous…"

"I know. I got that talk from Emmeryn too." Chrom sighs. "But you've been a big help, and as you mentioned before we are not so different. You're a god, sure, but you're a person… and I can't discriminate against someone because of how strong or how old they are."

"I see…" Chrom can't tell if that's excitement or apprehension in her voice. "Well then… I accept… I would love… to be in… the world again…"

"Alright." The Prince feels giddy, and also extremely nervous. "We don't know how long it will take, this isn't exactly a ritual we have guidelines for, but we'll start work gathering the materials for our first attempt."

"I understand… do not rush… I have waited… millenia… I can wait… a few more years…"

###

"I've been meaning to ask…" Reflet says as he glances up from the map. "What's with that necklace? Some sort of fad?"

While the Risen problem is just as bad as ever, bandits are less prevalent meaning overall there are less things to fight. Reflet and Chrom are just going over some new patrol routes with this information in mind.

"Oh, this?" Chrom pulls out the chain link necklace. "No, it's a symbol of the Chained Lady. She's an old god."

"An old god? The one you claim gave you visions during the war?" Reflet asks. He heard mention of this little detail, but he dismissed it as wild speculation or rumor.

"I claim nothing, I know it's true." Chrom chuckles.

"I see… and how about the bird?"

"Pardon?"

"The wooden robin I always see following you around. Is that something to do with this Chained Lady as well?"

"Ah, yes." Chrom quickly glances around to try and spot the bird, but they're inside so it's not around. "I can rarely spot it. You must have a sharp eye."

"I can sense magic fairly acutely. I don't usually see it so much as I feel its presence." Reflet shrugs. "So… what are the visions like?"

"We chatted about this and that, and then she gave me some information on an upcoming fight."

"You chat with a god?"

"Yeah." Saying it out loud, Chrom realizes just how absurd that sounds. If he'd been told he would have casual conversations with a deity older than the Hero King a few months ago, he would never have believed it. "She's friendly enough."

"I'll take your word on it." Reflet says, clearly amused. "How many people know you chat with an old god?"

"Well, I'm sure the Shepherds all know by now. Probably Emm too, and now you."

"But the public doesn't know?"

"Of course not! What would they think if they knew their price worshipped someone other than Naga?" Chrom pauses for a moment, then corrects himself. "Well, not worship. More like I'm just involved with her so to speak."

"Yeah, I can see the public not reacting so well to that." Reflet nods.

###

"I can't believe we're actually doing this." Tharja mutters.

She, Henry, and Miriel are laying out a pattern on the floor made entirely of chains of different sizes. It's a fact of magic that using something that is connected to your target increases the magical power of the spell (at least, for these sorts of spells it does). It's a big circle, taking up nearly the entire throne room.

"Nyhaha! I'm surprised the Exalt let us do this! Saying you want to summon an old god seems to me like a caws for alarm!" Henry laughs.

"Well, Emm may or may not be off in Themis seeing the reconstruction." Chrom coughs. "So she sorta doesn't know about this…"

"Ooh, we're being sneaky…" Henry chuckles quietly.

"Caw…" Fog says quietly, copying Henry's low tone of voice.

"Well she won't be back for several days. Themis is still a few days travel, and she just left yesterday." Chrom coughs.

"Yeah, whatever, pass me the toys." Tharja grunts. Miriel hands her the bag of small wooden toy robins. This being another one of the Chained Lady's symbols, Chrom figured it was appropriate to at least have a few around.

It takes a few hours to get the summoning circle made. It's huge, and all the chains required to make it were not exactly inexpensive.

Incidentally, it's been a few months since Chrom had that conversation with the Chained Lady where he made the summoning offer. With dedicated study by the three mages, they're ready to make an attempt far sooner than Chrom expected.

"We are finished." Miriel says as she lays down the last chain. "Now Milord, you remember what you need to do? As you are closer to the Chained Lady, you must conduct the ritual. We shall provide you with power."

"I remember." Chrom nods. He steps into position, pulls out his necklace to hold the large link in his hand, and starts repeating arcane words he memorized over the course of the month. The three mages stand in a triangle around the circle, and channel their power into the thick chain around the edge.

The chant is also a lengthy process, but power starts to noticeably build up about thirty minutes into the ritual. The light from the chandelier overtop of them starts to flicker, and there's a noticeable trembling in the numerous chains littering the floor.

At the one hour mark the toy robin that the Chained Lady controls comes and lands on the window. It watches the process intently.

Another hours passes. Chrom's voice is hoarse and dry, but he keeps up the chant. His arm is exhausted from holding out the necklace, but he keeps it firmly in place.

At three hours Chrom is starting to falter, his voice is almost gone, but the ritual looks to be near completion. The chains are rattling violently, and the toy robin had moved to perch on the chandelier overlooking the circle. Chrom pushes on for one minute, two, three, four, five…

...and at six minutes and three hours, it happens.

The chandelier lights go out, and all the chains in the circle move on their own towards the center of the room, forming a writhing pile on the ground. There's a repeated pulse of energy that even Chrom with his low magic sensitivity can feel emanating from the pile.

Then the chains all go still, and the magic seems to fade. For a moment Chrom thinks it's failed, but the three mages are still watching intently.

Suddenly, several of the chains lash out to wrap around the numerous pillars in the room. A giant spider web of chain links is formed in the room, all attached to the pile on the floor… which is no longer a pile. Instead there's a small hole where the floor used to be, about a meter wide and totally black, which all the chains are leading into.

The chains start to pull back, hauling something out of the hole like a dozen pulleys. When Chrom sees the the top of a familiar hood poke through the hole, his exhaustion temporarily vanishes due to excitement and nervousness.

The Chained Lady, in all her intimidating glory, rises out of the hole and into the palace. She's followed by nearly a hundred robins which fly out after her and settle on the chains holding her in the air. Each and every bird has a chain necklace which keeps it firmly under her control.

The hole stays open for only a few more seconds after everything is out, then vanishes unceremoniously without a sound.

Silence reigns as each side stares at the other. Henry, of course, is the one to break it.

"So, you like birds too?" He asks the goddess cheerfully. "This is Fog."

"Caw!"

"She likes peanuts."

"I see…" The Chained Lady's voice rings in Chrom's head. It's not on the wind like he's used to hearing her voice in his dreams, this voice goes directly into his skull and rings with power. "I too am fond of birds. As you might have noticed, I'm partial to robins."

Chrom lets the necklace drop back against his chest, and tentatively steps forward. "Y-You…" His throat hurts from chanting so much, and it shows in how quietly he's speaking. "Hello my Lady."

"Prince." The lady greets. She looks just like she did in his visions, except bigger. She's a solid ten feet tall, and that's not counting the chains keeping her off the ground. Her eyes are still closed, her mouth still doesn't move, and she's totally immobile except for her chains that allow her to move around. "Finally we meet in person."

"Yes." Chrom rasps.

"One last guess." She murmurs. "My name, what is it?"

Chrom doesn't know. He thinks hard for a few moments as all the robins turn to look at him…

Wait.

"Robin."

"Hello Chrom."

###

"You said you have someone you want to introduce to me?" Emmeryn asks curiously. She just returned from her trip a few hours ago. Maybe Chrom found a new recruit for the Shepherds over the week she was gone?

The two of them are standing outside one the guest rooms. Chrom asked her to come here as soon as possible after she returned from her trip. He looks visibly nervous.

"Yes." He says. The Prince knocks on the door. "Can we come in?"

"Yes." A soft voice whispers in response. It takes Emmeryn a moment to realize that it was not spoken aloud, but directly into her head. Telepathy. Suddenly she is nervous about whoever is behind this door.

They step inside, and Emmeryn's breath leaves her. The room is filled with chains which lie inert on the floor, and there's a very tall lady lying in the bed in a cloak. As they walk in all the chains come to life, and the lady is hoisted into the air to tower over the two of them.

"Sister, this is Robin, the Chained Lady." Chrom says quietly.

"As in the old god?" Emmeryn says in disbelief.

"Yes."

"Hello Exalt." The goddess whispers. "A pleasure to meet you."

"H-Hello." Emmeryn stammers. She recovers quickly though as her diplomatic training kicks in. "My thanks for lending my brother you assistance."

"Of course." Robin has no facial expressions, so Emmeryn has no idea what this lady is really thinking and it unnerves her. "Though, truly, I should be thanking him for summoning me. It has been so long since I've been in the sun and been able to hold a conversation for more than a few hours a week. Sending visions is very energy intensive for a deity as forgotten as myself…"

"I see." Internally Emmeryn is still somewhat panicking. Chrom summoned a god?!

"By the way." Robin murmurs. "I am prepared to help efforts in fighting Risen and preventing Grima's rise."

"Pardon?"

Robin pauses. Chrom coughs sheepishly and looks away. "Chrom…"

"Look, I couldn't just go around telling people Grima was coming back. Who would believe me?" The Prince protests.

"Grima is returning?" Emmeryn ask urgently.

"Not now, but within a few years." Robin warns. "Efforts must be made to prevent his return."

"If that requires conflict with Plegia, I'm afraid I must insist on finding another way. We just finished a war a mere six months ago." Emmeryn says firmly. "And I am no war advocate to begin with."

"Hopefully that won't be necessary." Robin hums. "But we will need the Fire Emblem and the five gemstones, one way or another."

Emmeryn supposes she shouldn't be surprised to know Robin knows about those objects, she's presumably observed the world for thousands of years, but it's a bit startling nonetheless. "I see… well, Ylisse has one gemstone and the Fire Emblem. Presumably Ferox has another, as does Plegia. Some remnant of the old Valmese empire should have the fourth gemstone… and the fifth is lost."

"We have a few years to find it then." Robin whispers. "Grima must be stopped."

"Of course." Emmeryn agrees. "You have my cooperation, within reason."

###

"Prince Chrom told me you wanted to see me?" Marth asks cautiously as he walks into the room.

"Yes Lucina." Robin hums. "I do."

"Lucina… you know who I am?" The masked girl whispers.

"Of course." Robin says serenely. "Did you assume my visions would conveniently omit that detail? Dear daughter, I would hope you know me better than that."

"You know I'm not really your daughter then." Lucina grimaces.

"If we are speaking technicalities, then yes, you are correct…" The Lady murmurs. "But I am not so petty. You may be from another world, but if you would still call me your mother, I will happily call you my daughter."

"I…" Lucina clearly has hangups, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't been excited to see her mother again… even if she's technically a different person. She wouldn't deny her friends this possibility, so why should she deny herself? "I would, if you'll have me…"

"Of course dear."

"Can I…?" Lucina holds out her arms.

"Please do. I would reciprocate, but… I'm asleep."

Lucina wraps her arms around her mother's form. The Lady cannot respond with her body, but she moves some chains to wrap around her daughter.

"Lucina. I have two questions."

"Yes?"

"When do you plan to tell your father?"

"I… I didn't." Lucina admits. "I planned on leaving him be, never to know my identity."

"Well, I must insist you change your mind."

"O-Of course."

"Secondly… do you have powers? You are a demigod after all."

"I have more strength and speed than a normal person…" Lucina says uncertainly.

"Can you manipulate chains?"

"No."

"Hmm… curious." Robin murmurs. "You must have some ability. I am yet to see a demigod without some sort of power. We can explore that if you wish."

"I would enjoy that." The girl says with a tentative smile.

"However, we must do it in our spare time. Soon we must be on the move to find the gemstones, as well as your missing friends, and it will require plenty of travel."

"That's fine. I've managed so far without any sort of power."

"And managed quite well I might say. I'm proud of you dear. You've been through so much, and you were still prepared for more..."

"Th-Thank you mother." Lucina murmurs. She rests her head against the tall woman to hide the prideful grin coming across her face.

###

"You know, I'm still getting over the fact that I don't get visions every week anymore." Chrom says to Robin one day as they're travelling to Ferox. After a few weeks of preparation, the Shepherds have set out to find the gemstones starting with the one supposedly in Ferox. "It's still strange to have you right here next to me."

The two of them are sitting inside a carriage. Robin can move at a fine pace on her own by using her chains, but for the sake of not having some villager spot her and freak out she travels in the carriage.

"I could say much the same." Robin hums. "It is strange to speak to someone in person, to feel the sun, to experience the world… even if I am still asleep."

"Is it possible for you to wake up?"

"Yes, I have done so before, but it is both difficult to facilitate and impractical most of the time. When I am awake I cannot have visions."

"Just because it's impractical doesn't mean you shouldn't." Chrom reminds her. "I mean, if you want to wake up of course. You don't need visions all the time."

"True…" She whispers. "Maybe one day then, after this mess is over with…"

"That sounds like a plan." Chrom grins. "You'll have my help with that too, if you need it."

"My thanks Chrom." Robin says. "But first things first, we have a world to save."

"Fair enough. Let's talk strategy then. Plegia won't just give up a treasure to the people who invaded them last year after all…"

---

Whoo… okay… this was long. 18000 words about. I had to stop here because I was not going through the whole Valm arc too.

I like this chapter, but there are a few things I would fix on a second go. Robin went too quickly from an eerie vision giver to a friendly and not very intimidating lady who just happens to speak through dreams. I would ease that transition a bit more if I wrote this again. Also, I sorta wish I'd explained Reflet's role a bit more. The idea is that since Robin can't be Grima, Reflet is Grima. Robin was hella fun to use though. I really enjoyed writing those first few visions especially. Actually, I think the first few thousand words definitely have all the best parts.

Jury's out on how good this chapter is though. I like it, but that might just be because of how much effort and time went into it. How good it is… that's up to all you.

---

bauers374: Well, from the quick bit of research I did, I assume you mean a Robin that leads from the front and is favors brash, hyper-aggressive, surprise attacks for tactics.

Also that's good to hear, I channeled a bit of what I know about writing cute characters for Robin in that chapter and was hoping it turned out well.

Firehedgehog: Yep. I'm thinking Hypopituitarism, but I don't know enough about the condition so I refrained from saying anything in the chapter.

Dayleaf: Yeah, Robin and Tiki is surprisingly difficult to find. I mean, there are several pairings that are hard to find, but Robin and Tiki seems like it should be popular but it just isn't for some reason.

Darkness is Complete: Uh… no.

Fantasy Paradise: :D

PrincessArien: Glad ya like it!

Tiki was an interesting experience for me. I've always seen her as being super chill and tolerant most of the time (and sorta lazy), but with moments of childishness and repressed desire for personal connections that she usually doesn't indulge (because she will inevitably outlive everyone). Writing that delicate mix was a challenge.

G: All of those are fine except Tooth Fairy because… well… I've already done Fairy, and I have no idea how tooth fairy would work.

Guest: Neither did I. It was totally unplanned, but I realized that Henry would totally launch a quip in that situation so I just threw it in and rolled with it.

PrometheusDark: A lot of people seem to like this ship. I never realized it was so popular considering how few stories there are on it.

LoveGlutton: I still have several stored away. The one I used this chapter, Conpeskinesis, was probably one the better ones though. Most of them are just really hard to do so I haven't attempted them yet.

Cyberchao X: I've had plenty of time to develop a response to the issues that arise with a shota (and similar) characters. I won't explain it all here (because I tend to rant), but thank you.

Lobotimite: I'm saying no to Uncle Ruckus (because I don't know what Boondocks is) and Kenny (because I've already done a similar idea). The others are fine though.

Don't worry about not knowing the politically correct term. People are over sensitive. No matter what you say someone will throw a fit. As long as it's not a slur/used maliciously, you're fine in my book.

Wrathie Winsre: "Disregard of Personal Space" was a difficult quirk for sure. I wasn't sure how to write it in a way that would actually be noticable.

You're not exactly wrong about Tiki being attached. My idea when writing Tiki was: "laid back, very tolerant, somewhat lazy, and secretly yearning for human connection." I think it came through rather well!

Tiny hug ninja that kills you… with hugs.

Well yes, people can't just snuggle up to others unless they're close, but the "No Sense of Personal Space" quirk is basically all about having no sense of that social more. Which I guess doesn't actually make it any less questionable, just less unusual for the person in question.

Thank you :D

Hence why I left it unsaid.

A list of signatures? That's a good idea… I wish I'd thought of that.

That's a tiny-ass egg… aww… that would be cute…

Maybe that teleporter would have something to say. I don't really know of course, I don't watch that show. Is it particularly powerful?

A ladies man? Huh, I guess it could be seen as that. It never occured to me, but on reading it again he totally comes off like that. Wow. And to think I was worried I couldn't write a suave character… also yes, some stories like that probably would have helped.

And a mutual escort mission at that. Unless we're just talking about Chrom (because Robin doesn't have to be deployed).

I do not do well with horror in real life, so I'm not sure I could ever write it. Suspense is fun to do though (if difficult, I always worry there's not enough/too much buildup or the payoff isn't enough). Emm's death is a weird case for me. On the first playthrough it was impactful (mostly because of the Mustafa chapter)… but on subsequent playthroughs I realized how stupid it was. The pegasus knights dying just felt mean.

Emmeryn that complains all the time? Hmm… I like it…

Well yeah, I could say "magic", but that's boring.

No, Sumia the assassin is genius. No one would believe she's an assassin because she's abysmal at stealth! She'd suck so badly at being an assassin that she'd make for a great assassin! :D

I don't mind tsunderes. I hate mean tsunderes. Severa is pretty much the embodiment of the worst way to do that trope in my mind.

Wow, that would be a terrible proposal by modern standards… but I see your point.

I think we've gotten a bit off-track in this tactics conversation. This no longer has to do with specialization or the supposed effects of gender on warfare. Can I make the call that we drop this?

Miriel is a great story tool, that's for sure. Ricken is the shota I guess (though he's also just young unlike Nowi).

People are impatient and rarely see the bigger picture, governments are stubborn, slow, and corrupt (at least to some extent, it's just the nature of being an institution of power). Old ages might have been simpler, but I'm not sure they were safer. Modern laws (while a mess and behind the times in a lot of cases) are still miles better than what they used to be. Also medical science used to suck for a long time, you could die from simple and easily preventable infections.

You love Lucina so much, but you'd have Chrom take her place as the time traveller? Shame on you…

… joking of course.

True. Convenient plot devices can be useful.

There's always the chance that Frederick disapproves of their methods, but otherwise yes.

I actually realized that problem very early on and I have just taken to ignoring Frederick when I write so I don't have to constantly justify Chrom being alone. Frederick is too good at his job.

See ya!