Disclaimer: I don't wn Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.
Minor: Dark Flier, Immortal, Exploitive, Swordmaster, Tripping, Perpetual Cheer, Chef, Blacksmith, Pegasus Knight, Teacher, Librarian, Masochist, Literal-Minded, Authoritative, Phobia, Thicc, Tsundere, Damsel in Distress, Gangrel's Child, Communist, Bomber, Bear Cavalry, Flying, ADHD, Super Strength, Patriotic, Sassy, One Liner, Seamstress, Shephard, Speedy, Cool, Shy, Bookworm, Kung Fu, Buff, Lazy, Wingless Flight, Blunt, Elf, Dwarf, Scottish, Melancholic, Punny, Dark Mage, Dragoon, Tea/Coffee Obsession.
Standard: Elemental, Deaf, Nurse/Medic, Valmese Tactician, Medusa, Gift from Validar + Evil to Good, Mimic, Emotionless, Crippling Overspecialization (Idiot Savant), Coward, ESP, PTSD, Magician, Handicapped, Secret Helper, Morpher, Dreamwalker, Twins, Animal Whisperer, Deadly Touch, Mind Reader, Doppelganger, D&D magic, Dominatrix, Songstress, Kinky, Matchmaker, Androphobic, Illusionist, Ring Maker, Teleporting, Crippled, Depressed, Slave, Love Curse, Geokinetic, Trauma, Siren, Changeling, Shapeshifter, Chrom's child, Minotaur, Werewolf, Future Soldier, Bounty Hunter, Weather control, Kleptomaniac, Druid, Steampunk, Shadow Familiar, Magic Augmentation, Lucky, Exile, Piper (Charmer), Gladiator, Witch Doctor, Centaur, Drunk, Punk, Harpy, Revenant, Luck Manipulation, Demon Summoner, Megalomaniac, Kitsune, King of Plegia, Mood Ring, Reverse Aging, Hammerspace, Prostitute, Demon Hunter, Cyborg, Rebellion, Einherjar, Trap, Yandere, Living Weapon, Size Shifter, Queen of Plegia, Gluttonous, Stretchy, Alchemist, Protoss, Spirit Manipulation, Invisible, Plegian Honor Guard, Mecha, Kryptonian, Creator, Orc, Memory Stealing Respawn, Racer, Khan, Misfortune, Vampire Hunter, 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, Serial Killer, Magic Fixit, Drakengard Restoration, Ying-Yang, Childhood Friend, Cyberpunk, Obsessed, Berserker, Phase Shift, Gravity Manipulation, Hallucinating, Bladesoul, Zombie, Double Entendre, Shared Body/Two Souls, Cannibal, Violent, Waterbender, Casanova, Cupid, Undertaker, Master Thief, Guard, Faceless, Shadow, Age Control, Cradle Snatcher, Emo, 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, Symbiote, Hivemind, Hammerspace, Anna, Mother Nature, Psychopath, Stripper, Painting, Grima Parts, Knightmare, Super, Swimsuit, Bunny Outfit, One Punch, Idol, Chef, Rampage, Housewife, Determination, Vessel of Naga, Instant Expert, Time Travel, Hermit, Alternate Dimension 'Twin', Legendary, Resistance, Memory Regain, Umbra Witch, Naga, Aquatic, Hexblade Warlock, Dragon, Demon of Choice, Demon of Temptation, Affliction, Good Samaritan, Gallant, Rosannite Tactician, Leeroy, Dungeon, Apparition, Unwilling, Wildlife Commander, Consistent Kidnapee, Grenadier, Magic Creature, Alternating Mind Control, Sothis in the Mind, Exalt, Unicorn, Pegasus, Alicorn, Star Lord, Slenderman, Bird Laguz, Junk Dealer, Gate Guardian, Shaman, Ghostbuster, Exorcist, King, Soldier, Bird Wings, Failed Vessel, Of the Corn, Valentian, Harem, Car, Incubus, National Personification, Gravity Magic, Kraken, Zora, Kirby, Moon, Quadruplets, Unnoticed, Inventor, Bastilio's Kid, Treasure Hunter, Future, Mind-Swapping, Criminal, Hunter/Tracker, Biker, Gigantic Sword, Miracle, Medium, Warlord, Greater Good, Acrobat, Mother of Chrom, Soul Stealer, Mid War Memory Loss, Reverse Memory Loss, Necron, ARMS, Naga's bride, Titan Sinkhole, Squire, Anti-Magic, Tomesmith, Dimensional Traveler, Falchion, Unbreakable Shield, Many Robins, Muscle, Fearful Knight, Narcoleptic, Big Eater, Aversa's Sister/Mother/Daughter, Evelynn, Witch, Frankenstein, Mirage, Stand, Persona, Pyromancer, Toon Force, Lawer, Deadpool, Yokai, Eldritch, Sentient Sword, Form/Personality Shifting, Fell Reincarnation, Robin's Mother Survives.
So, like… I've tried writing five different things for this and none of them have worked. I'm really at my wit's end when it comes to writing new chapters for this story, so thankfully there's only a dozen left.
I tried doing two or three different variations of Witch, I tried Psychopath, I tried Demon of Choice, and I couldn't write more than a few paragraphs for any of them before I realized I wasn't really doing anything with them.
So I'm doing Eldritch Robin, suggested by a guest, because I need something easy and fun.
Owain may have gotten in slightly over his head.
Exploring the Titan Sinkhole to find Mystletainn seemed like a good idea a week ago, but now that he's been lost down here for five days he's feeling a bit less excited about the sword and mostly just wants to get out.
But fate has other plans for him it seems. Rather than finding an exit down on the… fifteenth level? Or is this the sixteenth? It's also possible he bypassed some levels entirely when he fell down that hole, or that other hole, or that hole that was sort of like a slide.
He has no idea what level he's on.
Anyhow, rather than finding an exit, he's found an old stone door built into the wall. The wall is also stone, he should mention, but the stone of the door is a dull purple color, and it has pink runes engraved all over it.
Not suspicious at all.
As much as Owain would like to ignore this eerie door, he's really tired and his torch is burning low, and the inside of this stone door might make for a safe resting spot. He's been fighting off strange creatures for the last five days and he has no desire to wake up with a monster's fangs around his throat.
Especially because he won't be able to see. He has one torch left after this one, and there are no bioluminescent plants on this level of the Sinkhole.
(He's trying to ignore the fact that one torch is not going to last him the whole trip back up to the surface, if he can even find his way.)
A sound from behind him grabs his attention, and Owain swings his torch in the thick fog that permeates this level of the Sinkhole while putting his free hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Come out, fiend!" He calls. His voice is met by silence, aside from the pounding of his heart in his ears. "Owain Dark, heroic hero of heroism, will be your undoing!"
Nothing answers, of course, and with reluctance Owain turns back to the stone door… only to find the door is open. He stares into the yawning darkness beyond it, his torchlight somehow not piercing more than a meter ahead despite the utter lack of fog beyond the door.
He didn't hear the door open at all. Stone should not be so quiet. Shadows should not be so impenetrable. He should not have such a desire to step inside.
Owain's feet carry him through the doorway, almost against his own will. The stone door silently slides shut behind him. The flame on his torch is low despite being bright a second ago, as if being quenched by the shadows in the room.
A faint pink glow catches Owain's eye at the far end of the room. It's a small light, and doesn't illuminate anything, but it gives him something to walk towards.
And he must walk. He is compelled.
His feet carry him slowly over ornate stone floors and past tall pillars, the sides of which are just barely licked by the light of his torch and he only notices for a second. Owain isn't sure at what point he becomes aware of the sound of air being pulled and pushed into the room, almost like breathing.
His torch nearly hits something, and Owain takes a half-step back to see what. A tapestry hangs from some unseen point above him, and on its surface is a picture of some large, many-limbed being with one large eye in the center of its body.
Owain would stop to study it more, but he has to keep walking. He has no choice.
His torch dims more and more the closer he gets to the light. At some point Owain is aware that he passes through another doorway, and he can finally make out what is causing the light.
A single, glowing pink rune is engraved onto a stone lectern. That rune looks suspiciously, unmistakably, like a torch. Owain stands before that rune now, staring down at it, no longer feeling the urge to move forward.
Abruptly, his torch flares to life for just a second. It illuminates the room in a flash, revealing a brazier suspected in front of him by chains overtop a large ovular pool filled with red liquid, and beyond it a large statue. The light fades quickly, and Owain doesn't have time to study the statue, but he sees all the octopus-like tentacles arounds its base, and the single, large eye fixed into the statue's head.
Owain stares at that eye as the light fades. This doesn't feel right. None of this feels right. A brazier over a red pool, a statue of an unknown creature, and the questionable, dangerous impulse to lower his torch and light that brazier.
It's a bad idea. Owain knows it's a bad idea. But… every hero indulges their bad ideas, because those bad ideas always turn out well. They jump into that hopeless battle despite the warnings, despite knowing they won't survive, because they will survive, and they'll win the battle on top of it. That's just how heroes work.
Besides, he sort of needs some light to see, and he only has one more torch left after this so some extra light that might last a while would be nice.
So despite his numerous misgivings, Owain lowers his torch and lights the brazier.
The fire is sucked from his torch to the brazier the instant he begins the motion, and soon his torch is left completely void of flame while the brazier burns a bright purple color, illuminating the entire room and casting shadows on the form of the eerie statue at the back.
Then the brazier starts to lower. It descends into the pool of red liquid, and a gush of smoke, or mist, or something erupts out of the pool and starts to fill the room. Owain flinches away. Abruptly, all the compulsions to stay here, to light the brazier, are out of his mind, and Owain backpedals away from the pool.
The eye of the statue seems to follow him as he runs out of the room. It follows him down the hall, and to the still-closed door at the temple's entrance.
The smoke billows out of the back room and into the main hall. Owain has no way to avoid it, nowhere to run. He swings his unlit torch, futilely trying to push back the smoke, but it engulfs him all the same, uncaring of his pathetic resistance.
Owain was expecting the smoke to be choking, but it's not. The smoke is warm, almost uncomfortably so, but it doesn't choke or sting or burn. It is simply warm.
The boy stays huddled in the corner of the entrance hall for a long time. Long enough that his anxiety is eventually overcome with exhaustion, and he slips into an uncomfortable sleep.
###
Owain knows a lot of time has passed because when he wakes up, he sees no more smoke. But, he does see. The rune before the brazier isn't glowing anymore, but priorly unseen sconces on the wall are lit with pink flames, illuminating the room in bright (if unnerving) monochrome hues.
The question of how those sconces got lit would be very pressing if the answer weren't standing right in front of him, standing up ramrod straight while also looking down at him with a smile that is way too wide to be genuine, cold purple eyes that lack pupils of any sort, and long purple hair that bunches together like thick vines… or tentacles.
"Hello Owain." The stranger says. Somehow, only her mouth moves as she speaks. Not a single other muscle is moved in her entire body, and her eyes don't budge even a millimeter. That's not even getting started on how she knows his name, or the thick cloak she wears that is embroidered with a million purple eyes which stare at him from the fabric. "I believe you were looking for this?"
In a movement that is somehow incredibly fluid and yet horribly stiff and obviously choreographed, the stranger pulls a sheathed sword from her cloak and offers him the hilt.
Owain hesitantly accepts the sword. The stranger's eyes remain fixed on his face the entire time, even as he unsheathes the blade to reveal…
...Mystletainn. The legendary blade he came looking for. It was actually here. It's right here, in his hands. Given to him by this… person? Thing? This being that can afford to casually hand over a legendary sword to a stranger they've just met like it's equivalent in value to a fruitcake you give to a new neighbor.
So you wouldn't be wrong if you thought Owain is just ever so slightly intimidated.
"I do believe you are a little out of your depth here." The stranger says. She bends forward at the waist, somehow not falling over despite not counterbalancing her weight at all, and extends a gloved hand to him. She smiles the same fixed grin all the way through the action, her eyes glued on his. "Perhaps it is time we left."
For a second, Owain considers not taking her hand. He does not trust this being in the slightest after all. However, he really can't afford to annoy her, and if she can get him out of here it might be in his best interest to cooperate.
So, with reluctance, he grabs her hand. She pulls him effortlessly to his feet using just her arm. Once again, the rest of her body isn't used in the motion at all, and because she's leaning forward he's pulled almost nose-to-nose with her. Her pupilless eyes bore into his as he hastily steps back, and she lets him go while returning to her perfectly upright posture.
It's at this point that he realizes she's also quite tall. Over six feet, in fact, and a full head taller than him.
"Unless, of course, you have more business here?" She asks, and it takes Owain a second to understand she's continuing from her previous words.
"No, I'm… good." Owain says cautiously. "You know a way out?"
"Many." The being says. She gestures to the door, which has apparently opened without Owain noticing again. "Shall we?"
"S-Sure." Owain nods. He waits a moment, then realizes that the being wants him to go first. He does. He's really in no position to argue with her. "Oh, I need to light my torch first."
He quickly pulls the torch out of his backpack, and as soon as it's free from the fabric the head of the torch bursts into pink flame, completely unprompted.
Owain looks to the being, who shows no sign that anything usual happened and is still smiling her same fixed smile.
"Something wrong?" She asks after he stares for several seconds.
Owain's eyes snap back forward and he hefts his new, strange torch. "N-No, not at all…"
He really is in way over his head.
Scrambling to regain some semblance of calm, and to stop his own slow crawl towards panic, Owain tries to slip into a familiar routine. "M-Might I know milady's name, if she is to be the new travelling companion of the great hero, Owain?"
"A name." The figure muses, with a hint of amusement in her voice. It's as if the notion of a name is entertaining to her. "Well, in the past I have taken to calling myself-"
The noise that exits her mouth is indescribable. Owain's head throbs, and he stumbles on the stone ground beneath his feet. He barely recovers in time to avoid falling on the floor.
"-but, such a name is hardly something you could say." She says calmly, paying no mind to his sudden stumble. "So something simpler will have to do. Robin, perhaps."
"Robin then." Owain says. Anything to keep her from repeating… whatever that sound was. His head hurts just trying to recall it. "And I, of course, and the amazing Owain Lowell! Foremost hero of the Justice Cabal!"
"I know." Robin says. "Will Cynthia not contest that claim?"
"There is no reason we cannot both be the foremost hero!" Owain protests. Only then does it occur to him that he never mentioned Cynthia to her at all. Just like how she knew his name before he ever said it.
"Of course not." Robin says, still smiling. "It is all semantics."
Owain can't help but notice that as they walk, Robin is providing no guidance at all. She supposedly knows multiple ways out, but isn't directing him towards anything.
He considers asking her about it, but decides he really, really doesn't want to know. Every time he says or does anything, something bizarre ends up happening, and he'd rather keep that to a minimum.
The thick fog around them is no less impenetrable than it was before, though the pink glow of the torch grants it a more ominous feel. Once again, the only things Owain can hear are his own footsteps and his own breathing. Robin moves completely silently behind him, and stands just beyond his peripheral vision, making him feel quite alone unless he wants to look back at the stranger following him.
It doesn't help that he sometimes sees something out of the corner of his eyes. He can't tell if it's a trick of the light or if Robin is doing something, but he swears he seems something thin and twisting, like a snake or a vine, curling in the corner of his vision from time to time. Yet, if he turns to look, there's never anything there.
The two of them walk for almost an hour, and it does nothing to help Owain's growing anxiety. Everything about this situation seems wrong. What did lighting that brazier do? What is Robin? What does Robin want? Is it a good idea to help her out of the Sinkhole? It's not like he could stop her anyway, if she knows multiple ways out.
Owain is starting to realize he might have done something very, very dangerous.
Just when Owain is about to ask if they're even going in the right direction, Robin speaks. "Ah, here we are."
'Here' doesn't look any different from any other arbitrary place on this level. It has the same rocky floor and the same thick fog. They're out in the middle of nowhere. "What do you mean? I'm afraid I don't see anything, my good lady."
"That is expected. It is a bit beyond a human's ability to notice." Robin says calmly. Apparently she has no issue admitting she isn't human. "We must simply take a few steps. Hold on."
She offers her hand, and Owain (somewhat fearfully) takes it. She then fixes her gaze forward, and they both step-
-sideways into a void, a million stars shining from all directions, no solid ground underfoot; Robin pulls him forward and somehow up, reality contorting in an impossible way until-
-they emerge onto the moss-covered floor of the fifth level of the Sinkhole. Somehow they've skipped nearly a dozen levels of travel in the space of ten seconds.
Owain abruptly sits down, breathing heavily, his brain still trying to comprehend what sort of feat of magic Robin just pulled off while he fights off sudden vertigo.
Robin is completely unbothered. She waits patiently for him to overcome his bout of panic, holding the torch that Owain doesn't remember giving her. "That should cut our trip by a few hours. I am afraid there are no other shortcuts we can use to save any great amount of time. The Sinkhole is powerful and not easily bypassed."
"That's… some shortcut." Owain pants.
"A fairly small one, all things considered." Robin says. "I wouldn't recommend trying that on your own, by the way. Humans tend to get lost when they do that."
Owain is fairly sure they don't 'get lost' so much as go insane, but he refrains from commenting. He really doesn't want to know. "Noted."
After Owain has sufficiently recovered Robin hands him the torch again and allows him to lead, though Owain has the distinct impression that he's going exactly where Robin wants him to go regardless.
The fifth level of the Sinkhole is home to some very dangerous creatures. Owain knows both because he was warned about it by some villagers who had travelled down into the depths before, as well as because he ran into a few creatures himself: a giant spider with a head on either side of its body and ten eyes each, a twenty-foot long snake with no lower jaw and a club for a tail, and a panther with no eyes at all and unnaturally long and thin legs.
He didn't run into the (apparently) infamous 'smile demon' the villagers kept mentioning that supposedly prowls the upper layers of the Sinkhole and even the surrounding forest, and Owain hopes he never does.
That said, with all the monsters about, the fifth level is more noisy than whatever level they were on before. Monsters skitter and slither beyond the torchlight, and small bugs constantly dart in and out of vision. The ground isn't all moss either. Other small plants dot the landscape, and they're nothing like what you'd see above. Many of them are clearly some form of decomposer, and grow out decaying skeletons that are riddled with their roots. The plants are all very pale, having no need for pigment in such a lightless setting as the fifth level. The monsters are much the same, if Owain remembers correctly. The spider and the snake and the panther were all deathly pale.
Somewhere to the left a hiss can be heard, and Owain's hand snaps to his sword. Mystletainn is at his hip, but he has no practice with the legendary blade. Best to stick to what he knows for now.
"Keep moving." Robin instructs calmly. "Just about the only thing that will dare challenge us are the 'smile demons', as you would call them. Everything else knows better than to approach a pink light."
That's an oddly specific thing for the monsters to fear, and it doesn't make Owain feel any more comfortable about his oddly-lit torch.
Just as Robin says, for all the hissing and chittering Owain hears, nothing ever comes to attack them. Another hour of travel leads them to a stairway carved into the wall of the sinkhole, and it's only a ten minute walk up the stairs until moonlight greets Owain's eyes.
The sky, the actual sky. Owain has been lost in the Sinkhole for five days, and in less than three hours Robin led the both of them out. He's thankful of course, but also slightly disturbed.
They're also on the complete other side of the sinkhole from where Owain entered. He can tell because of a singular, strikingly tall tree that stands at this end of the sinkhole but is visible from the other side.
To be clear, everything around the Sinkhole is giant sized, but this tree is even more so than everything else. It towers so high that its upper branches are hidden behind clouds.
"Well." Robin says after a few moments. "Shall we get going? We have a few weeks of walking ahead of us… unless you would prefer me to go ahead, of course."
Owain isn't even surprised that she's joining him to find the Shepherds. Considering she apparently already knows about Cynthia, why wouldn't she know about the Shepherds too? "I would not send my new companion away so soon! What sort of unheroic hero do you take me for?" Besides, that way he can keep an eye on her and make sure she isn't secretly planning on murdering everyone.
Not that he really thinks he'd be able to stop her given the abilities she's shown so far, but that's neither here nor there.
"Far be it for me to imply you are unheroic." Robin says. She's still smiling. Actually, she never stopped. Her expression hasn't changed an inch.
And so, without Owain having to tell Robin where they're going, the two of them set out into the night. They stick close to the edge of the sinkhole so as to avoid walking through the monstrously tall grass surrounding it.
The world looks eerie through the pink-tinted lens of the torchlight. In a way it almost feels like they haven't left the Sinkhole at all. The wind is a welcome change to remind Owain that he is, in fact, outside.
The fact that he can see more than a few meters in front of him thanks to the moonlight is also a nice reminder, and it's exactly that which allows him to see the white mask sticking out of the grass at head height.
Owain stops well short of it, and Robin stops behind him. The mask waits in the distance, staring at the both of them. The mask is an oval, with two perfectly circular eye sockets and a crescent mouth upturned in a smile. The eye sockets are pitch black, having no obvious eyes actually inside them.
"It seems we have company. Shall I take care of it?" Robin offers.
"Nay." Owain says. He draws his sword from its sheath and hands her the torch. "I must test myself against such a peculiar foe! Clearly this is the so-called smile demon the villagers described. I will best this on my own merits!"
Robin takes the torch. It burns brighter in her hands, illuminating a much wider area. "As you wish."
With all the bravado he can muster, Owain strides towards the mask. The mask noticeably moves the closer he gets. It droops lower to the ground, looking up at him, and Owain keeps his blade in a ready position, pointed right at it.
"Come, demon!" Owain challenges, stopping a few meters short of the mask. "Owain Lowell, heroic hero of heroism, would challenge you!"
The mask slowly turns to the side, like a confused dog. The more Owain looks at the mask, the more oddities he notices. Not only are the eye sockets empty, but they're unusually deep, and the pink torchlight reflects off the inside of the thing's head as if from metal. In fact, the whole mask reflects light like metal, and it seems to be attached to a pitch blade head, which is in turn connected to a long neck that disappears into the grass next… to… them…
Owain spins to the side and brings his sword up to block, and not a moment too soon. Something sharp and dark clashes with his blade: a slim, sharp pincer. It retracts rapidly into the grass, and beside Owain the mask quickly rises into the air, suddenly towering several meters above him as the full body of the creature emerges out of the grass.
The creature is quite large; almost the size of a wyvern. It looks sort of like a spider, with six sharp legs that support a bulbous, chitine-plated body. A long neck, flexible as a snake, extends out of the front of the body with the mask on the front of it as some sort of false face. To finish it all off the creature has two long, thin, spike-like pincers at its front and four large dragonfly wings on its back.
Owain suddenly feels like he might be in over his head. The monster chitters at him, raising its pincers, and strikes.
The boy is quickly put on the backfoot, continuously backpedaling while making quick deflections with his sword to stop the pincers from skewering him. The monster's masked head remains high while fighting, staring down at him with its fixed, mocking grin the whole time.
The creature suddenly whips its head down like a flail, and Owain just barely dives out of the way. He's forced to roll into the grass when the monster swings its head at him again, this time horizontally.
Now hiding in the grass, Owain keeps low. He can hear the monster trying to find him. He can hear its wings start to flutter at a rapid pace, and he abruptly realizes that there's no way he can keep track of the monster in the air. Beyond the mask, the creature is pitch black and blends in perfectly with the night sky and canopy around them.
The mask passes overhead, and Owain stays down. The monster has to land before he can hit it. The problem is that the monster isn't stupid, it knows he can't hit it in the sky, and it takes full advantage.
A deep purple glow burns in the mouth and eye sockets of the creature as the mask turns to stare at Owain directly, and a moment later Owain has to break into a run to avoid the blast of poisonous gas the monster spews at him. The gas comes not only out of the creature's mouth, but also the false eye sockets. It doesn't spare any expense in spreading the poison all around either, blanketing a large area in deadly fog that gets continuously spread by its beating wings.
"My." Robin says, somehow standing right behind Owain despite being nowhere near him a moment ago. Her smile is the same as ever, but it seems almost mocking right now. "This is going well. Are you quite sure you do not want me to handle it?"
"No! A hero does not foist his work upon others!"
"As you wish." Robin says. Her head tilts up slightly. "Duck, by the way."
Owain doesn't hesitate to listen, and a second later one of the monster's pincers spikes the air where his head was a moment ago. He turns around and deflects the next attack with his sword, again backpedalling.
Robin's head turns to watch as he moves past her. Her head, and nothing else. Quite soon her head has turned a full one-hundred and eighty degrees to watch him with no obvious discomfort on her part despite the fact that the rest of her body is facing the other direction.
Owain isn't even surprised at this point. Disturbed, yes, but not surprised.
He also immediately regrets not accepting Robin's help, because he is losing this fight badly. The monster refuses to land and continuously spews poisonous gas at him, and there's just nothing Owain can do about it. He doesn't have a bow and he doesn't know magic. This thing will keep flying over his head and raining attacks down on him until he dies.
But the great Owain will not be deterred! If he cannot shoot the monster, he will simply have to leap onto its back!
Owain waits for the monster to do another flyby, and when it does, he vaults into the air, sword shining in the moonlight and-
-gets smashed in the chest by the monster's head, and sent crashing to the ground and skidding across the dirt. His hands scramble for purchase and find none, and in an instant he's falling over the edge of the Sinkhole.
That last moment before he falls lasts an eternity. His fingers scrape the dirt and stone, failing to dig into the loose soil and smooth rock, and he can see the monster circling him while Robin smiles, unconcerned, from the grass.
And then he loses his grip and falls. He flails in the air, twisting until he's facing down, punching through the layer of mist that shrouds the first layer, and-
-something wraps around his waist. It feels like a rope, and it abruptly stops his fall while crushing the wind out of his body. He's abruptly yanked upwards, dangling in the pit like bait on a hook all the while.
The monster isn't gone. He can hear it fluttering above him and it soon circles down into his view. The mask grins mockingly at him, as if aware just how helpless he is like this. With pincers outstretched, the monster dives at him.
A huge blast of pink fire meets the creature instead, and Owain has to squeeze his eyes shut to block the blinding light. The monster lets out an unearthly screech, and Owain opens his eyes just in time to see it dive under the cover of the first layer's fog.
It doesn't come back up.
A hand grabs the back of Owain's shirt, and suddenly the rope around his waist (at least, he assumes it was rope) is gone. Robin pulls him the rest of the way up, showing no particular exertion to lifting his full weight one-handed.
"Well, that was fun." Robin says, placing him back on the dirt. She hands him back the torch, and it dims as soon as it leaves her hand. "Shall we continue?"
"How do we know that thing won't come back?" Owain asks.
"We do not. But, I will handle it if it does." Robin promises. "Now come, let us go. Unless you have some more entertainment to offer?"
She considers him fighting for his life entertaining? "Uh, no, I don't. Let's go.'
He really regrets lighting that brazier.
Well, this was fun to write. I guess Robin isn't too obviously Eldritch here, more just creepy and weird, but I think it works well enough.
Kweh Viola: She's also a manakete. I think that means she can officially replace Corrin.
Raj8: Yeah, Tiki is sort of just here because she has to be here. I considered making Robin go full Hubert to make it more interesting, but I couldn't find a way to justify Tiki allowing her assistant to get away with that.
silverkami963: Manaketes are just great.
LoveGlutton: As a different reviewer mentioned, Tiki is basically an alternate Fates lord at this point.
Takedo: I had some fun writing it. The first scene was by far the most entertaining.
She Who is Woe: Tiki will get used to it eventually.
I never stopped writing, actually. I just have many more stories than The Robin Variable that I write.
DarkStorm98: Well hello. It's always fun to hear from someone who read through everything in a short burst.
Chapter 77 was the most fun I've had writing for this collection in a long time. Definitely one of my better chapters.
I'd answer each of your reviews individually, but your criticisms are valid, and I have nothing I can really say to your several "this is what I would do" or "this would be more interesting" comments because those are highly subjective. I suppose I can offer this: if you feel like you could do better, feel free to take these ideas and use/alter them. I'm always interested to see what other people can do with these ideas. I fully encourage you to use them in any capacity you want.
Your ideas are noted. As always, no promises on them actually being used. They're fine ideas, I'm just at the point where I only use ideas that I can make an easy chapter out of because I'm really burnt out on this collection and I've reached the limits of what I can personally make a story out of without retreading ground I've already tread multiple times before. Sorry.
If you ever decide to write something for Fire Emblem, I'm interested in seeing how it goes. Best of luck in your future endeavors!