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, Seamstress, Shephard.
Standard: Elemental, Deaf, Foreign, Future sight, Nurse/Medic, Valmese Tactician, Medusa, Amazon, Genderfluid, Gift from Validar + evil to good, Mind Control, 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, 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, Puppet, Broken, Hallucination, Depressed.
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, 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, 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, Wendigo, Witch, Symbiote, Hivemind, Hammerspace, Anna, Mother Nature, Psychopath, Stripper, Painting, Grima Parts, Knightmare.
Other: Self-insert, Second Generation replacement, Dimensional Walker, Cycle, Fates.
Banshee Robin, as suggested by a Guest.
Donnel swallows thickly as he watches the figure out of the corner of his eye. It's dark outside, being well past dusk, but he heard one of the cows making noise so he came out to investigate. He was expecting maybe a wolf or two that he'd have to chase off with a pitchfork, but instead he found nothing in the farm at all. The thing that bothered the cow was something it saw in the woods… and that's still there no less.
The figure is tall; even from this distance Donnel can tell they're probably twice his height. They wear a long, tattered grey dress that drags in the grass and a dark cloak overtop of it. Even from here, easily a mile away, Donnel can hear the figure's keening. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up on end while hearing it.
Folktales and myths are nothing new to Donnel. He's always hearing something from someone about spirit mischief causing this or that, or a monster killing livestock in the dead of night, or one of the lumberjacks or hunters being certain they saw this mythical thing in the woods.
He never really believed most of those tales though. They always sounded so fantastical that Donnel dismissed them. Sure, they live in a world of dragons, taguel, and demi-humans, but the odds of someone in this sleepy village finding a mythical creature in the woods is absurdly unlikely… but Donnel can't exactly discount something he can see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears.
"Gosh, what do I do? Do I talk to 'em? Do I just leave 'em? Is it a ghost?" Donnel thinks to himself as he watches the figure glide slowly through the woods. "If I don't, will someone else? The others won't be so nice… but what if this thing ain't nice either? If I try to talk to it, I might get killed!"
The boy shakes his head vigorously.
"No, I can't go assumin' bad stuff about others. Even if that 'other' is a spirit or monster or somethin'. Spirits hang 'round when they have unfinished business, yeah? So if I go have a chat, maybe I can see what's wrong and help 'em."
That's what Donnel tell himself as he quietly approaches, but really he doesn't feel confident at all. He's shaking like a leaf while clutching his pitchfork for security. Does metal even work against spirits? Is it even somethin' he can hurt if he needs to?
"Naga give me strength. Please don't let this be the death o' me." Donnel swallows thickly again. He's walked up until he's only a few feet behind the figure. Either they haven't noticed him, or they don't care. Their keening is loud in his ears, and the primal part of his brain is screaming at him to get away from this thing. He was right about them being tall. This figure is easily eight feet. They look solid, but Donnel can't be sure. This is a ghost, right? "U-U-Uh, p-pardon me yer ghostlyness."
The keening stops abruptly, and the figure stops in place. There's a long pause, and Donnel doesn't know what to do. Is it expecting him to keep talking? Why isn't it turning around? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
"W-W-Well I-I couldn't help b-but notice ya glidin' 'round mah farm. S-Sorta spookin' our cows." Donnel stammers. "S-So, uh, I'd appreciate if ya d-didn't do that. If ya need h-help with somethin' I'm happy to l-lend a hand, but if ya would p-please not scare the animals I'd appreciate it."
The figure slowly starts to turn around. Donnel fights the urge to put his pitchfork between the two of them. He shouldn't threaten them, he doesn't want a fight here.
The spirit is a gaunt and thin woman. Her skin is pale like the moon, but drawn tight over her bones like a famine victim. Her eyes are sunken into her face and hidden by her eyebrow ridge, which casts them into deep shadow. Her arms (and indeed her entire body) are incredibly skinny, and seem to lack muscle entirely. Her fingers are almost skeletal and unnaturally long. Her dress mostly covers her body, but it's clear from how it hangs off her form that she's completely emancipated. The cloak makes her look wider than she actually is, because it's clear on seeing her from the front that she's absurdly skinny.
The lady looms over Donnel, staring down at him with hidden eyes. The boy quails under her gaze while still fighting the urge to run. He's starting to have major second thoughts. What in Naga's name was he thinking!?
"They're gone…" The lady whispers. Her voice has a strange echo, and it sounds like wind.
"Who?" Donnel asks cautiously.
The lady raises her eyes to the moon, and her hood falls off to reveal stringy silver hair that falls all the way down to the grass. "All of them…"
"Right." Well that's not very helpful.
"They always leave…" The lady murmurs. "I miss them..."
"I dunno who yer talkin' about." Donnel says apologetically. "But I'm sorry."
The lady's gaze comes down from the moon to rest on him again. Her eyes, formerly hidden by the shadows over her eyes, are now slightly visible with the light of the moon. They're a blue so light it almost looks like white. "You… have lost someone."
"Yeah, I have." The farm boy sighs. "My pa. Bandit raid took 'im out a few years ago. Now I gotta take care o' the farm mostly on my own. Ma helps when she can, but her back ain't what it used to be…"
"I... have lost many…" The lady murmurs. "Fathers, mothers, wives, husbands, sons, daughters… all of them I have lost… hundreds of times."
"Golly, you've been married that many times?" Donnel blinks in shock.
The lady pauses, and an expression that might be a sad smile flickers across her face for a moment. "No… I feel the losses of others… I feel your loss as well…"
"Ah, well…" Donnel sighs. "I've sorta gotten used to it by now. Ain't ever gonna forget, but… no sense dwellin', yeah?"
The lady hums quietly. "I cannot forget… nor can I stop thinking on the deaths I feel... it is my fate…"
"Because yer a ghost?"
"Ghost…?" The lady's head tilts. "No… banshee…"
"Oh." Well that's much more terrifying. "Like the "wail an' people die" sorta banshee?"
"Yes." The lady blinks. "Unless… there is another sort… of which I am unaware…"
"Right." Maybe he should just ignore the fact that this lady could kill him easily just by yelling. After all, if she wanted him dead he'd be dead right now, wouldn't he? "Well, even if it is yer fate, why do ya gotta walk around all spooky like at night?"
"Others… do not enjoy my presence…" The lady whispers. "And I… am not a person…"
"That's crazy talk. You have ta be a person. We're chattin' right now, yeah?"
"You misunderstand… I have no identity…" The lady continues. Her eyes again move to the moon. "I was born… on the death of a lady... and her child… runaways… from a madman…"
She pauses and a soft keening noise escapes her throat. It still causes Donne's hair to stand on end, but it's not as terrifying anymore now that he knows what, or who, it comes from.
"I am an… amalgamation… of memories…" She whispers. "I have no name… no home… but… I experience… the memories of others… when they die…"
Donnel scratches his head. This is a bit much for him to grasp, but he thinks he gets the general idea. "You've lived a hundred lives, but none o' them are yer own?"
"Precisely…"
"Well that's an easy fix." Donnel says brightly. "Ya just gotta stop mopin' 'round the edge o' town and get involved with somethin'. Get yerself a friend, or somethin' to do, and then yah got somethin' to yerself instead o' just those memories, yeah?"
There's a long pause as the two of them stare at each other. Then the banshee says. "I… never considered that."
###
"Donnel, dear."
"Yeah Ma?"
"I know I said I wanted ya to make friends, but… who is she? What is she?" The boy's mother whispers.
The two of them are standing just inside the kitchen, while the banshee is at the table staring down at her plate of food with curiosity. Donnel isn't sure she's ever eaten before, though he's also not sure she actually has to either.
"She don't got a name yet, an' she's a banshee." Donnel says as calmly as possible. "She's friendly Ma, just a bit… uh... lost."
"Okay…" His Mother coughs. "And she won't cause trouble? She won't…"
"...kill anyone? Ma, she's a person, not a maniac."
"Alright, alright." The woman sighs. She clearly isn't comfortable about this, but she'll give her son, and this lady, the benefit of the doubt. "I'm trustin' you to keep an eye on her then, alright?"
"O' course!"
"An' keep her out o' sight of everyone else. They ain't gonna take nicely to some spirit o' death walkin' 'round town."
###
Donnel isn't sure if it's the food or just the fact that she's not moping all the time, but the banshee is looking a lot less like a famine victim now. Her skin is no longer pulled tightly over her bones, and she has some actual definition to her arms and fingers now. She's not just a skeleton with skin pulled over it anymore. There are still a few noticeable differences from a human though. She's still absurdly tall, her voice still has an echo, and her fingers are still unnaturally long.
But, if Donnel can be completely honest, he thinks she'll be quite the looker when she's healthy… assuming this has something to do with health at all. He really doesn't think she has to eat or drink. For all he knows it's actually just the fact that she's not depressed all the time that's causing physical changes.
Also, the banshee has decided on a name for herself (seeing as she didn't have one before). She's decided to call herself "Robin", named both after the birds that regularly roost in the trees around Donnel's house, but also for the name of the child that was one of those first two people she received the memories of.
Donnel is just happy she has a name, because calling her "Miss" all the time felt weird.
Robin doesn't do a whole lot during the day. She absently wanders the farm, sometimes following Donnel, but other times she'll find somewhere dark and just sit there while staring at the sky.
Sometimes she talks. She repeats conversations from the memories of the people she's copied, and the ones she chooses are usually rather tragic. By the time a week has passed, Donnel has heard her speak at least a dozen tearful conversations between people begging the other not to die, to just hang on a moment longer, that the doctor or cleric is on their way…
Donnel only asked for context once, and Robin told him in a whisper that the cleric was too late, or else she would remember more. The boy didn't ask again after that.
Not everything about Robin is depressing though. Due to all the memories she has, she's incredibly smart and skilled in dozens of different disciplines, as well as being a walking encyclopedia. Donnel only has to ask, and Robin can usually tell him exactly how to handle any given problem be it crop blight, animal sickness, pest control, optimal crop rotation… really anything, and it doesn't have to be farming. She informed him with no uncertainty that she could accurately appraise a gem, do a blacksmithing project, or recite (and use) several mathematical and scientific formulas if she felt like it.
Robin spends a few peaceful months with them. She starts to help with the farming and does little repairs here and there. Her health continues to improve, and she spends less and less time dwelling on the numerous deaths that make up her memories.
Near the start of the fourth month though, Donnel's life has another drastic change.
The day starts normally. Donnel gets up, has breakfast with his mother and Robin, and then goes out to do work. He tends to the animals first, giving them food and water and making sure none of them are missing, and then checks the garden for any new signs of pests before going down to the river to fetch water.
It was on his way back up that he knew something was wrong, because he suddenly heard Robin's tell-tale keening. That's a noise he hasn't heard in months, since they first met. Donnel rushes up the incline to see what the problem is, and then stops cold at seeing a man in dirty rags with an axe stomping around their farm, trying to get at Robin.
At first it looks like Robin isn't going to put up a fight. Her moans sends chills down Donnel's spine, and he can see the brigand is equally unnerved. She doesn't even seem to be looking at the man when he charges her… but apparently she was paying attention because when the man gets within five strides of Robin her mouth opens incredibly wide to the point she could easily fit a man's head inside, and she raises her hands and her fingernails seem to sharpen at the tips.
The bandit doesn't even get a hit in. He swings, misses, and then Robin slashes him with one of her claws and he falls to the ground gurgling on his own blood from a slit throat. Robin looms over the suffocating man, one hand dripping with blood, and then gives him another slash to the head for good measure.
Robin pauses for a second and sways in place. A low moan exits her mouth a moment later, and then she's back to moving.
Donnel wonders if he just saw Robin receiving new memories of the bandit she killed. He doesn't have time to dwell on it though, because Robin is moving into the village and Donnel needs to stop her.
But he can't. Robin is apparently very fast when agitated, because she's out onto the street before he's even able to call out to her. She glances to the left, lets out a horrific screeching noise, and lunges at something Donnel can't see.
Several brigands rush past the house towards Robin, and Donnel realizes he can't go after her. He'll get killed. The only thing he can do is go get help. Donnel grabs the pitchfork from the side of his house, then breaks into to run towards the forest. He circles around the the forest's edge, looking in horror at the fire sprouting from his village.
"Oh lordy, I don't know I'm gonna be able to get help in time." Donnel worries as he reaches the main road. "How far 'way is the castle? How far am I gonna have ta run?"
As it turns out, not very far. Only a few minutes down the road he finds a small group of armored soldiers, and the leader of them looks like the prince!
"Yer Lordship, yer Lordship!" Donnel cries out at the man. "Trouble ahead! Please yer Lordship! Mah village!"
"Slow down, what's going on?"
"Bandits Milord! They attacked mah village! Yah gotta help!"
"Of course we will." The blue-haired man says firmly. "Lead the way… uh..
"Donnel miord."
"Lead the way Donnel, the Shepherds will help you."
###
"'ere it is yer Lordship." Donnel says nervously when his burning village comes into sight. "Only got attacked a few minutes ago."
"Alright." Chrom nods seriously. "Stay close Donnel."
"What? I-I can't fight milord!"
"Oh? Sorry, I assumed…. Nevermind. You can stay here, and we'll come back to get you when it's over."
"I mean… I want to fight Milord, I jus' never have…"
"Warriors aren't born Donnel. They're made. And while practice would be nice, nothing teaches fighting skills like actual combat. Besides, I think you'll find your pitchfork can spike bandits just as well as it does wheat."
Donnel takes a deep breath, and then nods. "Alright. I'm comin' in with ya yer Lordship."
The Shepherds charge into the village with Frederick, Sully, and Stahl leading. Donnel sticks close to Chrom, and lets the prince charge in first before he attacks with his pitchfork.
His first kill leaves him feeling a bit sick to the stomach. The brigand gasps and fails to speak through punctured lungs due to Donne having stabbed him through the ribs. The sick feeling fades quickly when he remembers that these are much like the bandits that killed his father, and anger becomes his primary emotion.
Then, an ear-piercing wail breaks the air. Donnel's vision goes blurry, and his head rings with pain. All the other Shepherds seem to experience something similar, and the surrounding bandits also clutch their ears in pain.
"What in Naga's name was that!?" Chrom asks when his head is no longer ringing.
"That." Donnel groans against the pain. "Was probably Robin."
"Who?"
"Robin! A friend o' mine. She's a banshee."
"A banshee?" Chrom says in disbelief. "Naga above, we need to hurry before she wails again. We don't want her killing someone innocent."
As much as Donnel would like to say Robin wouldn't do that, he doesn't know how cautious she is about when she wails. After all, he's never seen her fight before.
Finding Robin doesn't prove too difficult. The line of brigand corpses with slashed throats is an easy trail to follow, and the dozen or so bodies with no visible cause of death all in one area is a likely candidate for the sight of her wail. Robin herself is found one street away, slashing through whatever bandit is unfortunate enough to cross her path. Her long fingers are soaked with blood, as is her dress and even her mouth. Donnel watches as one bandit survives a claw to the chest, only for Robin to follow up by piercing his throat with sharp teeth.
"Robin!" Donnel shouts as loud as he can. "O'er here!"
The lady whirls around, hissing like an angered snake, but she stops upon seeing who it is.
"Ya gotta be careful 'bout wailin' like that Robin. Might hurt some people who don't deserve it, yeah?"
"I was… careful." Robin murmurs. She eyes Chrom warily. "Everyone was taken… only bandits there. Not expecting… help?"
"Yeah, these are the Shepherds. They're here to help."
"I see…" Robin says. "Hurry then… they're kept.. at the church…"
"How do you know?" Chrom asks sharply.
"Memories… of their plan." Robin explains quickly.
Chrom looks to Donnel for clarification, and the boy says "She gets the memories of anyone who dies near here, so she knows what their plan is 'cause a bunch of 'em died around her."
"I see." Chrom murmurs. "How useful."
The bandits, now very few in number, break and run when they see the Shepherds approaching. The mounted Shepherds break off from the group to chase them down, and Robin also puts on a sudden burst of speed to chase down a bandit. She doesn't run, she glides a few inches above the ground like you'd expect of a ghost.
The Shepherds let everyone out of the church and start to help put out fires, take stock of the losses, save what can be saved, and help rebuild. Many of the villages do a double-take at seeing a tall, blood-stained banshee staring down at them and nervously path around her when moving back to their respective abodes.
"Donney!" The boy's mother rushes out of the church. "Thank the gods your safe! Thank you Milord for savin' my boy… Donny, be polite! Take a knee and thank his Highness!"
"Uh, thank ya Milord." Donnel says, and bows stiffly. "Yah really saved our hides."
"You did plenty yourself Donnel." Chrom chuckles. "Hone your skills, and you can protect your village in the future."
"Uh…" Donnel musturs up some courage, and shoots a furtive glance at Robin. "I have a request. I… I want to be a Shepherd! I-If it pleases yer Lordship o' course."
"Hush fool boy." His mother says sharply. "Sorry Milord, I don't know where he got such-"
"Actually." Chrom interrupts, "we'd be thrilled to have him. We can always use able-bodied men, and your son fought bravely."
"I… well, I suppose you are grown now Donny, you can make yer own decisions." The woman sighs. "It's your choice, but what 'bout Robin? You are the one takin' care o' her."
"Well, I was sorta thinkin' Rob could come with me. The village ain't no place for her, cooped up in our house like she is." Donnel says tentatively. "An' she's smart, right? She got the memories o' a hundred people, so she can almos' certainly put those smarts to use, right?"
"Are you expectin' a creature o' myth to get a job?" His mother asks in disbelief.
"I mean… yeah?" Donnel says weakly. "Robin, what are you thinkin'?"
"I would… not mind joining you." Robin murmurs. "If… the prince will have me."
Chrom is tempted to deny her, on account that she's a terrifying creature capable of killing dozens of people by yelling, but he realizes how petty that would be and how much of a potential advantage Robin presents.
Also, Emmeryn would probably like to meet Robin. She likes to talk to any many different people as she can to "see all perspectives", and Chrom doesn't think she's talked to a banshee yet.
"Of course. Your skills are most welcome." Chrom says with a nod.
###
"Wh-What!?" Donnel shrieks. He's grown rather pale. "Y-Yer kiddin' me, right?"
"Of course not. Emm likes to meet everyone who joins the Shepherds." Lissa laughs. "That includes you."
"Oh Naga…"
Donnel frets the entire way to the castle. Robin is coming with them, which makes him feel a bit better, but he's still on the verge of panic. The banshee doesn't seem nearly as phased by this; she's looking around the halls as they walk through with curiosity. All the servants they pass give Robin wide berth. They're clearly terrified of the lady.
They arrive at the reception area of a meeting room, and Lissa steps in to alert her sister. Donnel is sweating. This all seems very formal, is he under-dressed? He didn't have time to prepare! What is he supposed to say?
A hand sets down on the boy's head, and long fingers tangle in his hair. He glances up and meets Robin's eyes.
"I will… protect you." She says calmly. "I have no qualms… about killing her."
That is not at all what Donnel was worried about. "Thank ya Robin, but that ain't what I'm worried about. I'm more worried 'bout makin' a fool o' myself."
"It is unlikely… she will care." Robin murmurs. "A nice lady… if the memories… are accurate."
"You jus' said you'd kill her, but she's a nice lady?" Donnel asks. "That seems a bit… what's that word…? Contradictory?"
"Not so… I know my… priorities." Robin murmurs. "I do not wish… her harm… but I will… I need be."
"Oh, uh, thanks." Donnel feels a bit embarrassed about that actually. He knows Robin has a certain fondness for him, but it's another thing to hear that she's willing to do something so drastic for his sake. "Erm… do I look alright? I got my clothes on straight an' everythin'?"
"Yes." The lady says calmly. "Should I have… dressed differently?"
Donnel pauses. Robin is wearing the usual dress and cloak (new clean ones though, and with a shorter dress so it doesn't drag along the floor) so… "ya look nice as always Robin. I don't see no problem."
"Good…"
"Hey, you two!" Lissa calls as she opens the door. "You can come in now."
Donnel takes a deep, calming breath. "Okay… I can do this."
The two of them step inside the room. Any confidence Donnel had immediately takes a hit upon seeing the Exalt gazing down at him from a chair around the small table.
Objectively speaking there's nothing intimidating about Emmeryn. She took pains to avoid being intimidating. That's why they aren't meeting in the throne room or her personal quarters, and why she doesn't have as nearly many layers on as she would for a formal event. She's even gone without her usual headpiece.
The only thing she can't stop is her position, and unfortunately that alone are enough to scare a lot of people, like Donnel.
"You are Donnel and Robin, yes?" The Exalt murmurs when the two enter. She rises from her seat, and bows to them. "I am Emmeryn, it is a pleasure to meet you."
"H-Hello yer Gracefulness." Donnel stammers. He bows stiffly and quickly in return. "I-I-It's an h-honor to meet ya."
"Indeed…" Robin murmurs. She doesn't bow, though she does nod her head in acknowledgement. "Greetings."
"Please, would you sit with me?" Emmeryn asks, gesturing to the other chairs around the table.
Donnel and Robin sit. Even when sitting, Robin towers over the two humans at the table. Donnel sits with his hands clenched tightly in his lap while Robin rests the tips of her long fingers on the table. The banshee's eyes are locked, unblinking, on the lady sitting across from her.
"My brother has a tendency to recruit all sorts of different people. Different skills, different occupations, different social classes… and now different species." Emmeryn murmurs as she pours some tea. She meets eyes with Robin for a moment, and notes the intense stare the banshee is giving her. "While my brother has told me of you, I would hear your stories from your own mouths."
Donnel stammers out an explanation of his life on the farm, the death of his father, finding Robin in the woods, and the battle involving the Shepherds. It's quick and bare-bones, and his borderline panic is obvious.
Robin's story is much shorter and to the point. She doesn't share much detail at all, just saying that she was 'born' upon the deaths of a woman and her child fleeing a madman, and wandered at random in a mournful haze for numerous years while absorbing the memories of those who died near her until she encountered Donnel.
"Intriguing." Emmeryn murmurs. "You say you absorb the memories of others? Does that mean you are competent in a wide range of skills?"
"Yes… I also have… much knowledge…"
"Fascinating." Emmeryn says with bright eyes. "There is another Shepherd who would love to speak with you I believe. Miriel is enamored with the acquisition of knowledge… though admittedly she will be equally fascinated to study you as a banshee, so I would take caution to establish borders as she can be a bit intrusive in her pursuits."
"I see…" Robin mutters. "I will… consider speaking with her."
"That is all I ask." Emmeryn nods. "Also, is there any special accommodations you will require? I'll admit we've never had a banshee in our employ before, so I'm afraid we're ill prepared for such a thing."
"Not that... I am aware." Robin murmurs. She doesn't need to sleep, so accomodations for her in the Shepherds really are simple. She doesn't even need a bedroll. "A question… though."
"Please, ask whatever you wish."
"I seem to… frighten people." Robin murmurs. "Should I avoid… being seen?"
"Ah." Emmeryn grimaces. "Ylisse has long been a rather xenophobic and racist place. It is only with my installation on the throne that proper equality has been established. However, people are slow to change their opinions. Such a process may take decades or centuries." The Exalt sighs. "I suppose what I'm saying is: you are welcome to do as you wish, you need not avoid being seen, but do know that many people will not be as pleasant as Donnel or myself."
"Understood." Robin murmurs.
The three of them fall silent for a moment as they each take a drink or a cookie from the table in front of them. Robin doesn't bother with the handle on her cup, it's difficult to get her long fingers through the handle hole.
"Uh, yer Graceliness, I got a question." Donnel says hesitantly. "Yer real busy, right? How's it that you got time for this? N-Not that I ain't happy to see ya, but it seems… strange."
"In truth, I don't have time for this." Emmeryn laughs softly. "There are dozens of things I could and probably should be doing at this very moment… but such is the life of a ruler. If I were to always put off personal desires because I have something else to do, I'd never do anything but work."
"An' that ain't no way to live."
"Precisely."
###
"Wh-What are these things?" Donnel squawks and shakily raises his bronze spear. "Z-Zombies?"
"Ya skip around with a banshee at your hip all day, and you're afraid of a few zombies?" Vaike laughs. He gives a few test swings of his axe. "These things are gonna be a pushover. Lookit how slow they are!"
"Don't underestimate them." Chrom warns. "I've run into them before. They are not so simple and passive as they appear."
"If you say so Chrom." Vaike chuckles. It's very obvious that he doesn't believe Chrom, but the Prince knows Vaike will see what he means soon enough so he doesn't push the issue.
"They whisper…" Robin says softly. "I must… I must… I must… they say."
"You can understand them?" Donnel whispers.
"They speak… strangely…" The banshee frowns. "Undead… but no soul… only the brain… controlled and puppeted… but not the same people."
"The brain is reanimated, but there is no soul?" Miriel asks. "How curious. What is controlling them?"
"The masks…" Robin hisses. She starts to float above the ground, and her fingernails have turned to claws. Her jaw is starting to unhinge again, stretching further than it should. "They control the brain… which controls the body…"
"A form of galvanism." Miriel murmurs. "Incredible. If I could find a way to obtain one of those masks, I could learn so much…"
"Killing these things must come first." Chrom says, vetoing that idea for now. "Everyone form up, as we discussed!"
The Shepherds march on the disorganized Risen a moment later. Donnel is just behind the front line with Robin flying over his head. When the front lines meet, Donnel strikes from behind Kellam by snaking his lance around the side of the man's shield.
Robin, on the other hand, dives right into the thick of combat with a loud screeching battle cry. Her claws rend the leather armor of the Risen easily, and her ability to fly makes her deceptively hard to hit thanks to the Risen lacking ranged weapons.
The few hits that the Risen do land on Robin don't do much. Donnel doesn't know if she has some sort of resistance or if she just doesn't feel the pain, because he knows she doesn't have any armor on under that dress and cloak.
Or, at least, he doesn't think she does. It's not like he's asked or checked.
The end result is the Shepherd's victory. The Risen are far from harmless, but they are stupid and predictable to the point that even Donnel can take on one by himself and survive relatively uninjured.
Robin isn't bathed in blood this time thanks in no small part to the fact that Risen don't have blood. She does give the other Shepherds pause at the end of the battle when they see her hissing above their heads with her claws still out and her faw fully unhinged showing off razor-sharp teeth. It's something they sorta didn't notice when they were rushing into battle.
"Who boy, so this is what Shepherdin' is like." Donnel mumbles. "Not what I expected tah be honest."
"First time I've dealt with these things too." Kellam offers. "Usually we deal with bandits, not undead. These things only popped up recently."
"I have no... memories of these." Robin mutters. "New… or at least… rare."
"Rare before, common now." Chrom corrects. He overheard this talk. "There are reports in from all over the country about Risen. They're an epidemic, and we have no idea where they came from."
"Well that's just swell…" Donnel mutters nervously. "Zombies all 'round."
A hand settles on his head. From the long fingers, it's obvious to Donnel that it's Robin. "I will… protect you."
"Aww, that ain't fair Robin! Yah can't make this a one way thing! I'm gonna be a warrior me'self ya know!" Donnel protests. He pouts up at the banshee. "I'mma protect you too ya know!"
The lady sports an amused smile, one that makes it unclear if she actually believes Donnel or if she just finds his declaration cute. "I see… so be it."
Hmm…
This would have been a lot different if I used Chrom instead of Donnel. Starting this chapter was really difficult, I rewrote it at least five times.
I think this Robin has a lot of potential thanks to having the memories of everyone who dies around her. There's a lot of story potential there. That, incidentally, is where her tactical knowledge would have come from. I can also totally see Robin being a sort of funeral speaker for those who die near her. Think of it, she knows a person's every thought: their achievements, their secrets, desires, failures, unattained goals… everything. Not a eulogy so to speak, but a brutally accurate summation of who that person was. There's this book called "Speaker for the Dead" by Orson Scott Card which was a large inspiration for the idea of Banshee Robin that I didn't explore too much here because a lot of set-up was needed in this chapter.
So yeah, there is a lot behind the hood of this chapter despite it being a rather generic entry in this collection. I'll also admit I mangled the idea of what a banshee is in here. Usually Banshees are heralds of death for whoever hears them on an otherwise silent night. Specifically, they signal the death of someone close to the hearer. I chose to change that aspect, but still keep the association with death (hence the whole memory-obtaining thing).
bauers374: I'm afraid the reference is over my head.
Pretty sure brief-cases don't exist yet.
Frederick's reaction… maybe just a little jealous, yes, but also disturbed by this man who routinely breaks into his leiges' rooms.
Firehedgehog: Not familiar with that universe, sorry.
Yexius: Interesting note, that was actually something I had planned to do for both Ghost Robin and Robin of the Pact. It's on the list, but unlikely because of how difficult it is to actually pull off.
Guest (2x): Glad you like it.
Almost all of those ideas are going to go under unlikely or minor, because they're either small details or very difficult.
Darkness is complete: I was considering insomnia, but I thought the more literal interpretation of "doesn't need sleep at all" was more interesting. Matchmaking huh? It seems several people like that idea, and all of them have a different idea of how it should work. You're the first to suggest an actual magic component though. No guarantees as usual, but thanks for your input.
TwilightSymphonycat: :D
Cyberchao X: Yep, that's what I was aiming for. Glad you enjoyed!
Wrathie Winsre: Looks like some weird duplicating happened in your review. It repeated itself almost entirely.
Don't worry about being busy. I've been plenty busy myself with essays and such, and I don't expect you to review or anything. You have a life outside of replying to my fanfiction… or at least I hope you do.
You can wipe sweat with the back of your hand. That's what I was implying. Actually, when I was first writing this chapter, I was worried this exact section about the chainlink and wiping his brow would be confusing, and apparently I wasn't wrong. And also, he did feel it when he wiped his head. The fact that this is so confusing though tells me it could have used a bit of work. I guess it wasn't just me being paranoid…
This chapter takes a lot of cues from Ghost Robin and my original (unused) ideas for Robin of the Pact.
I wanted to keep it somewhat ambiguous whether Robin had power or not, partially because it reflected Chrom's paranoia over whether she could be trusted or not. Keeping her actual power level vague was just a part of that.
I mean, Chrom is dealing with a god who's general imagery is imprisonment and chains. That doesn't exactly scream "I'm a good guy"... and while Chrom is naively trusting, someone so obviously potentially dangerous is going to be on his radar no matter what.
Yep. I dunno how to do horror. If I did, it's unintentional (though useful in this case if it did happen). Zombie movie vibe was totally intentional though. I went for something a lot more cinematic for the sense of scale, but I guess the emotional impact may have suffered for it a bit.
That is a perfect comparison. Frederick really is like a father to him sometimes.
Hmm, yeah. I guess I can see why that ruins the moment a bit. Chrom being a follower, yes, totally, but he's a bit thick. As far as he was concerned this was more of an 'alliance' than him being a follower, he's helping her help him so to speak, but that's the dramatic irony because the readers know that he's totally a follower at this point.
I realized when I started writing this that Robin, both her bird and the person, wouldn't be doing much so I kept them on the sidelines for a long time. She was supposed to be important, but in a sort of indirect chessmaster/puppeteer sorta way.
1 - That's… actually a good point. Never occurred to me.
2 - You do remember Lucina's Falchion is significantly more powerful than Chrom's Falchion, right? I suppose it's only ever explained in the official comics, but Lucina's Falchion is partially awakened. It is actually more powerful than Chrom's (hence the 12 attack stat vs the 5 of Chrom's Falchion).
I don't remember Marth saying anything prophetic here. She just implored them to retreat because more Risen were coming (which isn't unreasonable for her to know). Though maybe I forgot something…
Marth made a calculated guess. She knew her father became a follower at some point before the Ylisse/Plegia war, and this is already pretty close. Him mentioning that the wolf cry (and you bet his future self told Lucina about fighting a dire wolf) was a pretty good indicator to Marth that he was at least getting visions, or else he probably wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.
It's a goddamn miracle humans got their act together enough to just survive with all the squabbling and in-fighting they do.
Virion is a decent tactician. He's not incompetent but it's also not his primary field of study. He was a ruler before he was a warrior or tactician. Lucina, on the other hand, is a warrior and tactician first due to the dire straits her world was in. Virion is fine, Lucina is just better. Virion is not the Shepherd's tactician in the actual game. That's purely a detail I put in when I'm introducing Robin late to justify the Shepherd's ability to not die in difficult battles when Robin isn't there.
They didn't burn the bones because superstitions and religion exist… and people didn't honestly expect zombies to be a thing. Cremation is hardly a universal thing.
A bit OOC maybe. It depends on how prideful you think Chrom is usually.
You liked it? Oh, good. I was worried it was going to be kinda bad because of how quickly it went by. Combat is weird to write, I don't know how to write it, so it's a wild guess every time as to what works.
I was pained as to whether Frederick should catch on or not. On one hand, he would respect his lord's wishes and not prod… but on the other hand he would totally spy on his lord if he thought there was a problem. I erred on the side of Frederick keeping a distance for the sake of the story.
I guess Chrom being a bit clueless is part of his usual character, eh? Character development seemed a bit mandatory in a story this long.
Frederick the stalker huh? I see him as over-protective rather than creepy, so while he knows a lot about Chrom he doesn't know every single detail. Ferox knowing about it was me deciding on world-building. My idea of Ylisse is that of a xenophobic and racist nation where you are only allowed to worship Naga (at least until Emmeryn took power), so their knowledge of any other deity is basically non-existent. The khans knowing about it was a case of me incorporating that into the world. The old gods are obscure, but not forgotten. Ylisse has just been intentionally made ignorant by its rulers for a long time.
Name drop? You mean almost calling him "father"?
Well Chrom was certainly not using his brain at the start. He was minorly panicking. I could have made Robin much more god-like in her personality (see things on massive scales, have very little care for individual human lives, demand respect and awe) but I always intended her to be a pretty nice person who just happens to be intimidating as all hell on first sight. Also yes, Robin would get smashed trying to fight Grima (at least in their dragon form. She could probably go toe-to-toe with Grima's avatar though). A weak goddess is still a goddess after all.
If Naga could take on Grima, she would have done so. I think Naga doesn't actually have a lot of power, she's a pushover compared to Grima. It just so happens that Naga has a lot of really powerful followers to balance that out.
She just has visions. They're not from any particular source, she just gets them. So there really isn't more to say. She had a vision of him, so she chose him. Simple as that.
I'm pretty sure Maribelle's parents are alive in the game. Again, this is just a story choice on my part as one of the many differences between worlds. Giving Emmeryn a backbone was one of the most fun parts of this chapter, hands down. It was a joy to write.
I don't think other gods get visions… or not as potent. I imagine their inherent magic might give them small glimpses of potential futures or past events, but seeing something from another world would be extremely unlikely and/or difficult. These easy cross-dimensional visions are unique to the Chained Lady for the most part. The gods know other dimensions exist of course, but seeing across them is hard.
Yeah, I knew about the informality. I wasn't a fan of it happening so quickly, but I couldn't figure how to squeeze more interactions in there. I tried to imply there had been other conversations that weren't written about that happened between them to try and cusion that. Also yes, Robin is totally on-board with this friendliness.
Lucina being active is something I always like in a story. This isn't time travel, so there's no reason for her to be cautious about messing around with things.
Politics can be fun! (When it's not real-life politics)
It's a rumor, and a bit of a wild one. Most people treated it as such and ignored it. That's also why the wooden robin hides, else it would cease to be a rumor and become very real for others and possibly be very inconvenient for them both.
This is kinda plot armor, but it's not that unrealistic. They're basically casting a glorified portal spell, which (while high level) isn't implausible for people to know already. The main problem is just locating Robin's body, then casting the portal at such a long range. Summoning Naga has issues because Naga actually watches over the whole country (and they aren't going to summon a god without that god's permission).
Again, it's not resurrection. It's a glorified portal/teleportation spell. That is her main body, but her power is greatly diminished after years of doing basically nothing and having no worshippers. Also, she's not awake, and when she's not awake her powers are drastically reduced in exchange for receiving/giving visions. She's still a powerhouse by human standards, but by godly standards… not so much.
Emmeryn will be Emmeryn. She's a pacifist. She'll lie, intimidate, and swindle if she needs to, but her primary goal is to prevent violence. Robin is always chill. That's sorta her thing. Also, she's asleep, so all her emotions are a bit muted.
I considered giving Lucina chain powers, but then I also realized I'd have to explain why they aren't working for the entire rest of the story. For the sake of the story, I made it so godly powers don't directly inherit, and instead a demi-got simply gets a domain of power (but you have no idea what the hell it is, or how specific it is) hence why Lucina didn't display any powers. Also, Lucina being a demigod was a total afterthought. I was like "hmm, Robin and Chrom pairing again… oh yeah, that makes Lucina a demigod, right? I should probably address that". Rarely do I factor in the child getting powers when making Robin Variable chapters, especially when that child isn't Morgan.
Not quite sure what you're saying here. What do you mean 'dig up an ancient body'? Also, Naga would get wrecked if she tried to fight Grima. For reference, Anankos (an average dragon) is about the size of a large building, right? Grima is several times larger than a castle. Lucina is the size of one of his eyes. Fighting Grima's dragon body would result in Naga, or anyone really, getting smashed. Grima outclasses pretty much everyone (god or otherwise) in terms of raw power. That's partially due to Grima being an artificial life form. (I suppose I could do it though. This is fanfiction after all, it's not like I'm bound to how I think the game world works. Making Naga that powerful though would have some serious implications for the world… hmm… need to think on it.)
A sequel would probably involve the entire Valm arc. Blah, that would take so long… but I also love The Chained Lady idea, so maybe.
I appreciate your reviews as always. Hope to hear you again.