Chapter 3 - Into the Abyss

Robin hunched low behind the crumbling ruin of a nearby building, ducking out of sight. He tightened his grip on his sword, watching as the ghostly shapes of men ringed in fires passed through the fog around him.

Another patrol. They're getting more frequent, he noted. This was not the first he'd encountered that day. So far he'd already engaged and defeated three patrols, and avoided several others.

They were looking for him, he was sure of it.

An unknown span of time had passed since he first set off into the mist. A few hours perhaps, half a day at the most. The sun hung still in the sky above, making it impossible to tell how much time had really passed. All he had to go on was his own growing hunger and fatigue to mark its passage. He'd managed to find some preserved food in a half collapsed cellar he'd stumbled across in a burnt out farmhouse, but had yet to find the time to eat more than a couple mouthfuls. The constant need to dodge the phantoms pursuing him made sure of that.

These are definitely what I remember fighting before… he scowled, fighting to recall any details he missed. So far he'd managed only to get a few glimpses at his other memories, a few disjointed events that meant little without context. They were coming back to him, that he was sure of, but far slower than he would like. If he could only break through the fog that hung over his mind, then maybe…

He clutched at his head, another dull throb tearing through his skull. It was too hard… too hard to think. Everything still felt numb, out of reach. He had to…

Focus…, focus…. There will be time later. Pay attention to what's immediate, he reminded himself. Turning his attention back to the phantoms, he watched as the patrol drew further away from those nearby. Soon they would be far enough away that he could safely take them out without alerting others of his presence.

He had to keep moving, had to find… her. What was her name? He had to remember. It was important. He knew it was.

He had to make sure she was safe.

Reaching into his coat, Robin drew out a tome, a tiny burst of electricity dancing over his hand. Standing, he took a slow, deep breath. Then he moved into the gloom with deadly purpose guiding his steps.

He had to find her. He had to.

Perhaps then they could find a way home.

. . . . .

Corrin pulled his cloak tighter around him to ward against the wind. Dead leaves crinkled and crushed under his feet as he trudged onward.

For several hours he wandered aimlessly through the wooded countryside, not caring where or when he was going so long as he was away from human contact. During that time, the sun had sunk past the horizon, the moon now climbing high overhead as night settled around him.

All the while Corrin fumed. How dare Xander try to tell him what he should do? How dare he butt into someone else's business? Hadn't he proved himself enough? Enough to not be treated like a helpless child?

He was furious. Furious at his brother. Furious at everyone. Furious at the world itself.

But most of all, he was furious at himself.

Corrin stopped dead in his tracks, picking up a faint sound in the distance. He strained, picking up the murmur of voices drawing closer. Several moments passed before they were close enough to make out.

"... why are we even doing this? What are our chances of even finding him?"

"Because it's our job. Besides, grumbling about it won't-"

"Indeed. Do not allow doubt to fill our hearts, for fates will be the light to guide us in our-"

"Okay, okay! We get it!"

Corrin groaned, rolling his eyes. The voices were ones he recognized all too well. Great, I really needed this right now, he grumbled inwardly, letting sarcasm flood his thoughts.

Guided by annoyance, Corrin sharply turned around. Steel rang out as he leapt out of the underbrush, sword in hand and a growl at his lips. "What are you doing here?!" he hissed, coming face to face with the three he'd known he would find.

Odin, Selena, and Laslow jumped back in surprise, shock playing out across their features. Or rather, two of them did, Laslow even giving a small yelp. Odin, however, other than appearing dazed for a split second, seemed completely unperturbed. Either he had expected this to happen, or more likely, you had to be far more… extreme to garner a genuine overreaction.

Didn't stop him from doing it willingly though…

"Finally! Lord Corrin! We've been searching high and low for you," Odin boomed, deepening and raising his voice with each syllable until he was practically shouting. "For eons we have sought with all our might, all for this one moment when-"

"It's only been two hours, Odin! Jeez," Selena grumbled, quickly regaining her own composure.

"But that's boring. My way was far more-"

"Long story short, we're lucky to have found you, Lord Corrin," Laslow interjected, doing so before Odin could begin rambling again.

"Yes, but why? Why were you looking…" Corrin trailed off, the realization hitting him. "Wait, my siblings sent you, didn't they?" Corrin asked, folding his arms over his chest. He let out an angry huff. Of course they did. Why can't they just leave me alone? I'm sick of being treated like a child who needs constant looking after.

"Ha? For something so simple?" Odin asked, arching an eyebrow while simultaneously raising a hand to cover his face in a far too dramatic pose, given the circumstances. "Nay, we are here for reasons far more vital to-"

"Yes! That's exactly why we are here!" Selena interjected frantically, elbowing Odin hard in the side to shut him up. She hissed something under her breath that sounded a lot like 'pipe down you idiot' before turning to Laslow. "Yes, isn't that right, Laslow," she stated haltingly. It was clearly not a question.

"Uh, yes. Of course. We are here because of that. What you said. That," Laslow agreed, lamely. He nervously glanced sidelong as he spoke, which did nothing to reaffirm the credibility of his words.

Selena facepalmed.

Corrin looked between each of them in turn, suspicion rising in his mind. Yeah, they were hiding something. No doubt about that. But what? And if his siblings hadn't sent them, then why were they following him?

Once again, Corrin was reminded how little he knew about the trio. By all accounts they had appeared in Nohr three and a half years ago and immediately sought to be made retainers to his siblings. Thanks to easily passing the multiple tests thrown their way and due to Garon's insistence, it had been made so. But beyond that, there was sparingly little. The three clearly knew each other well before arriving here, with the most they would say is that they came from a far away land.

Yet that had seemed of little matter, with the three proving their loyalty to Corrin's siblings time and time again. But now… now he couldn't help but remember that it was Garon himself who had vouched for them. Sure, he doubted they were secretly working for the now deceased king; they had sided with Corrin to dethrone the creature possessing the Nohrian leader's body and fought against him as hard as everyone else had. But they were keeping secrets. Secrets that Corrin was sure had to do with their strange arrival and purpose here.

"At any rate…" Selena continued, the annoyance in her voice plain for all to hear. "If you're going to wander off alone, the least you can do is let us remain nearby, Lord Corrin."

"Indeed. After today it is far too dangerous for anyone to be off by themselves," Laslow agreed, nodding his head.

"I appreciate the offer, but I can handle myself," Corrin replied, not bothering to mask the harshness of his response.

"With all due respect, Lord Corrin, I don't think that is the wisest-" Laslow started to say.

"Yeah! It's not even like we're asking to hold your hand," Selena interrupted, indignant. Her eyes burned as if on fire, frustration boiling over. "You want to be alone, I get it. All we want is to be close by in case-"

"I can handle it!" Corrin snapped, shouting now. His voice echoed through the woods, lingering for several moments before fading away. All was silent.

A growl fell from Corrin's throat, his lips parting into a sneer. Then he transformed. One moment he was there, the next stood Corrin the dragon.

"Don't follow me!" He rumbled, his voice reverberating as spoken from inhuman vocal cords.

"Lord Corrin, wait!" the three shouted in unison, rushing forward to try and stop him.

But it was too late. The instant they moved, Corrin spun around, pushing off the earth with his clawed limbs. With a single flap of his wings, he launched himself forward, crashing into the thick undergrowth in a cloud of torn leaves and shattered twigs.

Fast, as fast as he could, he fled the scene. Far behind he could make out the shocked cries of his sibling's retainers, until soon those too fell out of earshot. And so he left them, far, far behind.

Maybe this time he could be alone.

. . . . .

A sound somewhere between a weary sigh and a groan fell from Laslow's lips as he watched the last few leaves flutter to the ground at the spot Corrin had vanished into the treeline, the world again falling still. Next to him Odin and Selena stared in disbelief, the latter's mouth even hanging halfway open.

Here we go… three… two…

A loud smack echoed through the woods, followed by a yelp of pain.

"Selena, what was that for!?" Odin whined, doubling over as he rubbed the spot where Selena had struck him on the back of his head.

"You scared him off! Letting it slip that we were following him for other reasons. Why couldn't you just play along?!" the redhead scolded, wagging a finger in her husband's face. "Sometimes, Odin, sometimes…" she trailed off, muttering something that honestly sounded like a strangled groan of frustration. "Think, what would have happened if you let more slip? You know full what what happens if you… you know… the thing!" She hissed, flailing her arms vaguely all around her.

Laslow, of course, knew exactly what she was referring to, the curse that prevented them from speaking of Valla or the Silent Dragon that lurked there. One word, even to each other, and poof, they'd vanish.

If anything, it made having conversations really complicated sometimes.

"Selena, relax. I'm sure it was an honest mistake… even if he's been doing this for years now," Laslow said at length. "Honestly, sometimes I think Ophelia acts more grown up than you two."

"He started it," Selena grumbled, looking away from her husband, who was still clutching at his head. "So, what now? Do we try to follow him?"

Laslow shook his head. "No. We can't possibly catch up with him at this rate. Not without wings of our own. And that's assuming we even know where he's headed."

"Then what are we supposed to do now?"

Laslow said nothing. Turning away, he paced the length of the small clearing. Coming to a stop, he dug the tip of a boot into the dirt, dislodging a small rock. He stared at it for a moment, then kicked it away. The stone bounced and tumbled the remaining distance, vanishing into the undergrowth in a rustle of dead leaves.

"Sometimes I wonder why we're still sticking around, " Laslow muttered, speaking up at last.. He sighed, turning back to face his friends. Absently he slipped a hand into a pocket, fingers brushing against the crystalline orb.

The orb that could take him home.

"What? And abandon the mission placed upon us? Abandon the world still in need of us?" Odin gasped, visibly taken aback by the mere mention of leaving.

"Odin's right. What's gotten into you?" Selena asked, shock filling her voice

Laslow pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing outwards along his temples. He sighed yet again, the sound managing to seem even more tired than those that had come before.

"You know what I mean. I just feel so… helpless. Three years, and what did we even accomplish? Keep watch over Corrin and keep him safe? Fine job we did of that, considering he looks to be a step or two from going over the edge." He waved an arm in the vague direction Corrin had gone. "Three years of watching helplessly, knowing what was really going on. Watching as the true enemy pitted everyone against each other, and being unable to do a damn thing about it. Unable to tell anyone what we know, unable to even warn them. I'm just… tired…"

Odin and Selena exchanged looks, silently processing what he said.

"Look, I know we can't just leave. Not with the real threat still out there. Today was proof enough of that," he shook his head slowly, a weary laugh falling from his lips. "I'm supposed to be the optimist, but even I don't know what more good we can really do."

"I know, but… we have to figure out something…" Selena muttered, crossing her arms. Yet even as she spoke, her expression appeared far less certain, her eyes fixed firmly on the dirt.

"We need a plan, some way to warn them of the dire peril, looming invisible in the night before us all. But what…" Owain added, rubbing his chin in a manner he probably imagined looked thoughtful, only far too exaggerated to be anything other than melodramatic.

"Sometimes I wonder what our friends would think of us, if they saw us now," Laslow asked.

"I bet they could figure this out. And we'd probably never hear the end of it," Selena replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Probably right," Laslow agreed. He shook his head, doing his best not to sigh yet another time. Thinking of his friends now, even after all this time… it still hurt. He missed them all.

But most of all, he missed a certain blue haired tactician.

When will this finally be over? When can we finally go home?

. . . . .

Corrin burst through the trees, scattering leaves and broken branches in his wake. Landing in the thick undergrowth, he bounded forward, darting left and right as he avoided crashing headfirst into the maze of trunks that blocked his path. Coming to an area less densely packed, he took off once more, soaring up above the canopy with a few flaps of his great wings.

With each second he put more distance between himself and Laslow, Selena, and Odin. Enough distance that they could not hope to follow him. Enough distance that no one could follow him. Enough distance that he could finally be alone.

And so he ran, not caring where he was going so long as it was far, far away. He slipped into the rhythm of his movement, the thrumming beat of his wings, the feeling of dirt between his claws whenever he landed to move on foot. He lost himself in it, in the pleasant, mindless trance as he ran. Escape from memory, escape from grief, escape from it all.

The moon climbed higher in the sky as he ran, time having slipped into a realm without meaning. An hour or more passed without event, the world nothing but a rush of wind and passage of the land around him.

Then at last he began to tire, the flap of his wings becoming sluggish, his limbs aching underneath him each time he landed to pick up speed. With a last burst of energy, he leapt forward, breaking through a line of trees. His claws dug into the ground as he skidded to a stop, tearing up dirt and grass.

For a moment he stood there, ragged breaths rising and falling from his chest. Then his head dipped forward, his shoulders slumping as his body seemed to dissolve. Within moments he'd shifted back to his human form, hunched over on hands and knees as he yet fought to catch his breath.

Several moments passed before he again found the strength to move. Slowly he lifted his head, looking around at his surroundings. He sat at the edge of a vast mountain forest, cliffs rising high up into the sky to one side. Before him lay a still mountain lake, a thousand stars twinkling in its depths.

The longer he stared, the more familiar the scene became. He'd been here before. After Cheve when Garon had ordered all singers in the city to death. Azura had slipped away in the night, and he'd followed her to this very lake. It was then that she opened a portal to a strange, otherworldly realm connected to theirs by the Bottomless Canyon. A place of drifting islands, endless skies, and ceaseless mist.

It had been the night he'd learned of Garon's true form. The night he'd set himself on the path of war. The path that had left his brothers dead and a kingdom ruined. The path that had seen Azura die.

"It seems like so long ago…"

Pushing himself to his feet, Corrin stumbled forward like a man half in a trance, his eyes fixed firmly on the lake's surface. His feet splashed in the water, sending ripples cascading outward with each step. Only when he was knee deep did he come to a stop, gazing down into the black depths reflected in the surface.

Slowly but surely the water stilled once more, the distorted image of his own reflection taking shape before his eyes. He saw sunken eyes, disheveled hair, and pale skin. Tried tears caked his cheeks. He hadn't even noticed he'd been crying.

Corrin shut his eyes, unable to bear looking at the haunted face staring back at him for very long. He was just so tired… tired of everything. Tired to trying to hold it together. Tired of the loneliness. Tired of the grief…

As he stood there in silence, Corrin suddenly became aware of something at the edge of perception. He heard, or at least thought he heard, a soft voice humming a familiar melody. It was so quiet he could barely make it out, and yet…

Corrin's eyes shot open and he whirled around, scattering the mirror reflection. The world was still and empty around him, the only sound the rustle of the wind in the leaves and the distant hum of insects in the grass.

It was nothing. Of course it was. Corrin dabbed at his eyes with a sleeve as he turned his gaze back to the water. I must be starting to go crazy, thinking I heard-

Corrin froze. For a split second he saw something in the wavering reflection, a glimpse of white cloth just at the edge of sight. He spun back around, whipping his gaze to the spot at the water's edge where the reflection had been. He blinked. Nothing. Was he seeing things now too? Perhaps he really was going-

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimmer of movement, a shimmering shape of white slipping out of sight into the treeline. By the time he looked it had vanished.

Azura?

For a split second he again considered the possibility that he was seeing things, yet the thought was quickly brushed aside. A sudden, desperate, foolish hope took hold of him, fighting against all that logic and reason told him was so. He leapt out of the water, bounding across the shoreline towards the spot the figure in white had vanished into the trees.

Again he glimpsed it, slipping away before he could get a clear look at it, passing deeper into the woods.

"Azura?" He cried aloud this time, hurrying after the elusive apparition.

Again and again it appeared at the edge of his vision, each time vanishing too quickly for him to see more than a shimmer of white moving amongst the trees. With each step he delved deeper and deeper into the forest, the land beginning to rise before him. Each sighting was in the same general direction, it becoming apparent that what it was leading him up into the mountains.

For how long he chanced after the ghostly figure, Corrin could not say. It may have been hours or perhaps mere minutes, time having ceased to matter. As he climbed higher and higher the treeline began to thin once more, replaced by a craggy, rocky landscape littered with dead trees and scraggly bushes. The sky grew dark overhead, lightning flashing and crackling in threat of an oncoming storm.

Still, he was lead onward. Out onto an old, weathered road he recognized, leading deep into the mountain pass. His feet carried him forward, rounding the final bend in the path. Then he came to a halt, gazing out onto what lay before him.

A massive chasm stretched out before him like the maw of some ravenous beast. An old fortress sat at the other edge amongst a grove of dead trees. Lightning flashed, illuminating rickety suspension bridges that stretched over the abyss, rattling in the wind.

The Bottomless Canyon.

Lightning flashed again and what Corrin saw took his breath away. For a split second he saw her. Azura! At the center of the bridge, she was there! She seemed to glow with her own light, her clothes rippling in the wind. One arm was outstretched, pointing into the depths below. Then Corrin blinked and she was gone, vanishing from his sight without a trace.

He blinked again, rubbing his eyes. Nothing. The bridge loomed over the chasm, empty before him. Cautiously, he walked forward, stepping out onto the bridge. The ropes swayed with his added weight, the wood creaking with each step. Carefully he placed one foot out one after another, coming to the spot he'd seen Azura.

Another, more distant memory came to the forefront of his mind. Of watching Gunter tumbling over the edge, thrown off balance by a sudden attack from Hans. The sight melded with another memory, that of finding Gunter again in that other realm. The canyon lead to that very realm, that was how Gunter had survived.

And he'd just seen Azura pointing into its depths.

Corrin's mind raced with the possibilities. Had it really been her somehow? Had she lead him here for a reason? Was she trying to tell him to travel there, to that other world? She'd said that she went there often in the past. Perhaps somehow she was still alive, ended up there when she'd vanished.

Yet a darker thought poisoned this growing hope. The thought that this could all be a trap. He remembered all too well how once inside that world they had been quickly swarmed by Invisible Soldiers in far greater number than they'd ever encountered in the outside world. Could it be that this was all some trick? Using Azura's image to lure him into certain death, where no help could arrive? It would be foolish then, regardless of any hope he may have, to walk into such danger willingly.

Yet…

Seeing Azura just now… it had felt… right. He'd felt safe. At peace. Was there something else here, something he could feel beyond his normal senses? Or was he merely deluding himself into clinging to the desperate hope of seeing her again?

Perhaps it was because he had nothing else to lose.

Stepping forward, Corrin moved to the bridge's edge. He ducked under the rope, grabbing hold of it behind him with both hands. There he stood at the precipice.

Boom. Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the black stones. A gust of wind rushed through the canyon, the bridge shaking with its passing.

Slowly, Corrin leaned forward, his feet at the very edge of the wooden planks, until only his grip on the rope behind him kept him from tipping over the edge. He stared down into the endless depths before him.

The bridged shook and swayed again. Lighting rumbled in the sky above.

Sucking in a deep breath, Corrin closed his eyes. For a moment he hung there, moving not even a single muscle. Then he released his grip on the rope. He tipped forward. His stomach lurched as weightlessness took over, wind rushing by his ears as he plummeted downward into the darkness. Faster and faster he fell, the world becoming nothing but wind and a lightless void.

Then suddenly the rush of air stopped. For an instant he hung, suspended in a veil of nothingness. Then a white light burned away the blackness and obliterated all else.

. . . . .

Hunching low, Robin peered out from his hiding spot behind an old, dilapidated building. Through the wall of mist, he glimpsed a legion of shadowy shapes drifting through the gloom, their forms melding with the endless sea of gray as they wavered in and out of sight.

Too many, the tactician noted, grimacing.

Ducking low, he withdrew, keeping to the ruins now. The fog had grown steadily worse, with some pockets being so thick he could barely see more than a few feet in front of him. Not that this seemed to impede his foes at all, a fact he had discovered the hard way. He'd stumbled head first into a patrol masked by the mists, only becoming aware of the attack when an arrow had suddenly struck him in the shoulder. Sheer luck had ensured he'd come away with nothing more than a dented pauldron, but still, he had barely escaped from the ambush, fleeing into a ravine before he could be surrounded. Now the place was crawling with even more Invisible Soldiers, who he now knew were capable of seeing him long before he could see them.

A woosh of air passed by his ear. Turning he spied a flicker of movement around a corner, a darker shape among the gray. He darted back out of sight, heart pounding. Dammit, they had that way blocked already.

Searching around, he found a place where part of a wall had crumbled enough for him to slip through, bypassing a large section of the down. His progress was slower now, forced to check every corner and backtrack each time he glimpsed ghostly shapes lurking nearby.

To make matters worse, he was quickly tiring. Hours of constant movement had taken its toll, sapping his already depleted strength. The battle that had brought him here must have taken a lot out of him to begin with, he realized, with however long he'd been unconscious having not been enough for him to fully recover.

The air shifted again, carrying with it thicker fog, thicker than anything he'd encountered so far. Within moments, the world had become an endless gray which masked even his own hands if held at length from his face.

Crunch.

A footstep nearby.

Panic seized Robin's chest. Was he being followed? Had he been seen? He spun around, hurrying in the opposite direction. He was blind now, with no idea if he was heading towards safety or yet more danger.

His foot caught a loose stone, sending a jarring pain up his leg. He flailed his arms, losing balance as he tipped forward. Thud. He landed hard on his face, the impact knocking the air from his lungs, stunning him for a split second.

Get up! Get up! A frantic voice cried in the back of his mind.

Stifling the urge to gasp for air, he scrambled to obey the voice's commands, shoving his arms under him. His knee slipped in loose gravel, forcing him to catch himself on his hands again. Frantically he tried to right himself, to flee before the noise of his fall alerted his pursuers. He had to-

Robin froze dead in his tracks. The mist before him seemed to shift before his eyes, revealing the shape of a woman before him. Through the swirling fog he caught a glimpse of white and sky blue in a fashion alien to him. Hair the color of aquamarines flowed down to her waist, fluttering in an unseen breeze. Cloaked in the fog she seemed translucent, as if she wasn't truly there, her form almost appearing to glow with its own light.

Silently, the woman raised a hand, pointing off into the sea of fog. Then as suddenly as it had parted, the mist rushed back in, obscuring her form once more. By the time they shifted to reveal the spot where she'd stood, she was gone.

Robin stood there, frozen in place as dozens of questions tore through his mind. Who was she? What was she doing here? Did he stumble across her by chance, or had she sought him out? How had she vanished so quickly? He pondered each of these and many more in rapid succession, so quickly that it made his head spin.

The only thing he was certain of is that she had been trying to tell him to go in the direction she'd pointed. But for what purpose? If she was helping him, why? And how did he know if her advice would bring him to safety?

What's more, this could be a trap. He had no way of knowing if she was trying to lead him into more danger instead of away from it. What was he supposed to do, trust the strange woman who appeared out of nowhere that he knew nothing about?

Not like the alternative of wandering blind is any better, a sarcastic voice chided somewhere from the back of his skull, its logic one Robin had to concede did make a lot of sense. He chewed his lip, pondering the choice before him.

Come to think of it, if this was a trap there didn't seem much of a point to it. Wouldn't it be easier just to direct the Invisible Soldiers to his position and have them surround him before he even knew they were there? Her appearing before him like that would risk tipping him off, and to what end? If this was a trap, it was a poor one at that.

Besides, at this point in time, he had little to lose. It was a gamble either way, and wandering blind had gotten him nowhere so far. Maybe it was time to change tactics.

Rising to his full height, Robin bent down, retrieving his tome from where he had dropped it when he'd slipped. Dusting it off, he tucked it under his arm before setting off in the direction the woman had indicated.

The next hour was a blur, time ceasing to hold meaning in the empty gray void he now found himself in. Several times he spotted phantoms moving just out of sight. Yet time and again he saw, or at least thought he saw, the woman's shape before him, directing him away from harm.

And so it was that he made it out of the fog without encountering a single foe, the gray wall giving way to swirling patches of thinner mist. Of the woman who had guided him, Robin could see no sign. Not even a single footprint or mark to tell of her passing. Everything was still now, the land empty of any sign of life or movement.

Boom.

The ground underneath his feet groaned and shook, the silence shattered by a rumbling blast in the distance. Whirling around, Robin peered off into the distance. A smaller island, half the size of the one he'd been stranded on had crashed into its side. Dirt flew in great clouds from the impact site, falling like rain. Shadows moved among the cracked and split earth, flowing like water. Even from where he stood, he was sure that they were Invisible Soldiers, far more than he'd encountered so far. Perhaps a hundred or more, spilling onto his island.

Before the thought of retreating could even cross his mind, another sound reached his ears. The sound of steel ringing against steel, so far off in the distance that it could barely be made out.

His eyes widened. Was someone else out there fighting those things? Could it be her? The woman he was looking for? Even if it wasn't her, whoever it was clearly needed aid lest they be overwhelmed by the number of those things out there.

In that instant, he made up his mind. Seizing his sword and tome, Robin started forward, charging towards the dark that lay ahead..

. . . . .

Corrin hacked down the Invisible Soldier standing before him, scattering him into smoke before spinning around to slash at the foe coming up from behind. He moved as a blur, cutting down one after another in a bloody swath through the seemingly endless tide of enemies. Let them come. He was ready. He would kill every last one if he had to.

The phantom army had found him shortly after he had arrived, falling on him as quickly as they had on the previous occasion he had been to this world. Yet he cared little, relishing in the change to escape once more, to lose himself among the heat of battle. To let rage take him, to drown away memory and grief.

To forget.

Leaping into the air, he bounded over the heads of three Invisible Soldiers. He spun around as he landed, cutting them down before they could so much as turn to face him. He darted left, dodging a blow, swiftly taking out the legs of his attacker before running him through the chest.

The world had become nothing more than a sea of haze, both the red of Corrin's vision and the gray of the mists mixing to give the world a sense of unreality. Overhead, black clouds blotted out the sun, plunging the world into an unnatural night.

So absorbed by the fighting, Corrin barely noticed when the earth shook under his feet, the island he stood upon crashing into another. He stood even as his foes staggered, tearing into them with relentless fury.

He seized one with a hand, throwing him into his fellows with all his might, sending the whole group sprawling. He was on them then, slashing as they scrambled to stand, cutting them down to the last one.

Rising to his full height, Corrin watched as the remaining phantoms yet at hand charged him from all sides. A drunken laugh fell from his throat, Yato seeming to burn as a flame in anticipation. Was that all they had?!

"Thoron!"

An earth shattering boom split the air, drowning out the unknown voice in a blast of burning light and sound. Instinct kicked into full gear, Corrin throwing himself forward in a blur of motion. He dove to the ground, getting clear the instant before the spot he'd stood on seconds before disappeared in a burst of crackling lighting and an explosion of pulverised earth. Several of the Invisible Soldiers he had been fighting were obliterated outright, while several others were sent tumbling through the air, evaporating into smoke as they struck the ground.

Corrin's heart hammered in his chest, every nerve burning with alarm. What was that? Some new foe!? He came out of his dive in a roll. With every ounce of speed he could muster, he spun around, cleaving through two Invisible Soldiers in a single blow, dispatching them as quickly as he could before turning to face whatever new threat had presented itself.

A blur of movement caught his eye. He whirled around just in time to see a figure silhouetted in the dust-mixed mist leap from a rocky ledge. The figure landed in a roll, clothing billowing around him as he came to his feet. From his fingertips three bolts of electricity lanced out, splitting outward to lance three of the phantoms. The ghostly figures collapsed in unison, fading away into nothingness before they hit the ground.

No other foe appeared to challenge Corrin or the new arrival, the battlefield falling still and silent as the dust settled around them.

Corrin's shoulders rose and fell, blood pumping rapidly as the adrenaline-fueled haze continued to hang over his vision. A snarl fell from his lips, his body tensing as he held Yato before him at the ready, preparing to pounce at a split second's provocation. Whoever this was, they were clearly a powerful mage. He would need to close it quickly if he was to overwhelm them.

With the dust finally cleared, Corrin could for the first time more clearly make out the person standing across from him. The man, for it seemed to be a man, was clad in a charcoal coat of unknown design, lined in gold trim and adorned with dark purple designs in the shape of six, eerie eyes, three on each sleeve. Underneath the coat a scratched and dented steel breastplate adorned could be seen, with matching greaves on his legs. Pauldrons rested on his shoulders, fixed by straps that vanished underneath the coat's collar. Of his other garments, Corrin could see little. A tunic and breeches of light tan underneath armor, knee high leather boots and matching bracers glimpsed from within his sleeves, several belts over a layered cloth sash around his waist.

The hood of the man's coat was up, casting deep shadows over his face. Between the darkness, the dim of the overcast landscape, and the mist swirling between them, Corrin could see nothing of his features. Only a hint of his chin and lips were visible, and even those were difficult to make out. He clutched a yellow tome set with a golden rune in the shape of a lightning spear in one of his hands, the other outstretched towards Corrin. A sheathed sword dangled at his side, buckled underneath his coat.

For a brief moment, neither of them moved, each standing as still as statues. A gust of wind rushed between them, stirring the mist in a swirl of vapors that danced around them. Corrin's empty hand twitched, another snarl falling from clenched teeth. The haze over his vision throbbed with each beat of his heart, his body tensing to the point that it felt it might snap at any moment. He took a half step forward, drawing Yato back in a more aggressive stance.

"Don't move!" A voice called out from within the depths of the hood, shattering the silence. "I want to talk."

. . . . .

Robin tightened his grip on his tome, waiting for a reply from the strange figure standing across from him.

From where he stood, Robin could make out his general shape. The stranger was slim of build and a bit shorter than most, maybe half a head shorter than himself. He had hair of silver white, a shade darker than his own hair color, with pale skin and crimson eyes that shone like rubies in the dim light. His garments were unlike anything Robin had seen before, wearing form-fitting armor reminiscent of plate mail, only far lighter weight and more finely interlocked. A midnight blue cloak billowed around him, its edges tattered and stained with dirt and mud. Curiously, he wore no boots on his feet, with a simple strap holding around his bare feet to affix his armor's greaves into place.

In his hand, he held a sword of unusual design. Rather than possessing a blade, hilt, and crossguard of different materials it seemed to be constructed from a single piece of golden-bronze colored metal. Its cross guard and hilt too were of atypical design, with the guard a rounded "U" shape, the hilt its mirror but with the addition of a single central prong. Set into the blade were four sockets where gemstones could be placed, the upper two of which lay empty while the lower two held blood red gems that shone with their own light. A shadowy violet-red aura clung to the edge of the blade, casting a hellish glow over its wielder.

Several seconds passed in silence, no answer forthcoming from the stranger.

"Talk. I need answers. Are you friend or foe?" Robin demanded, repeating his words with greater force.

The man visibly tensed at his words, but still no answer came.

Robin scowled, trying his best to get a read of the other's intentions. He'd at first mistaken him for another phantom, glimpsing his fiery red eyes amongst the mist. Yet he seemed to be working against the Invisible Soldiers, having killed two of them before Robin's very eyes.

Yet, he couldn't be too careful. He knew nothing of this world and to be overly trusting might prove a fatal mistake. Besides, something-

A throb of pain split Robin's skull. He winced, pressing the tips of his fingers to his forehead as he fought against the pain. Through the haze a memory flashed, a vision of the very blade held in the stranger's hand spinning through empty space. Another blade appeared, one he recognized as the one used by the woman of his memories. The two swords met in a clash that sent white light scattering. The blood blade spun away back into the darkness an instant before erupting into fire that washed over all else as the vision ended.

What was that? It felt like he remembered it from some half forgotten dream. Yet instinct told him this was not true memory: it hadn't happened. But if so, what could it mean?

Acting on instinct, Robin reached out with his mind, the same way he had when searching for the ghostly warriors each time he encountered them. He needed to see. Needed to see if-

Robin recoiled back the instant his consciousness brushed against the stranger's aura, retreating back both physically and mentally. Strange energy seemed to cling to the man: cold and fluid. A maelstrom of powerful emotions lurked just below the water's surface: rage, hate, fear, and grief. And below that, deeper still, he had sensed something else. A deep, vast sea of power, one that even the briefest glimpse at sent the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight and every nerve alight with alarm.

But most of all, it was how familiar the aura felt that sent a cold chill up Robin's spine. It felt like the presence in his last memory, the very memory of right before the rift exploded. It felt cold, like a vast, deep ocean, swirling with currents of power hiding a storm of raging emotions. Yet it was not completely the same. The other had felt unclean… oily and dark. This felt cold, yet, but lacked the same menace. Perhaps it-

Another throb of pain filled Robin's skull. He nearly doubled over from his, clutching his head with both hands now, even as he still held the tome. The fog within his mind seemed to thicken, making it difficult to focus, the doubts he'd felt slipping away between his fingers before he could fully seize upon them. For the briefest of instants, he felt a consciousness press around from all sides, the same dark, unclean that seemed to lurk in lightless depths.

Then the sensation passed, the pain receded. Groaning, Robin shook his head and lifted his gaze, breathing through clenched teeth. What was that? Had that sensation come from the stranger? Had he merely been hiding that darkness somehow? But, why then had it-

Again the pain intensified, scattering the thought before he could finish it. Robin's vision blurred, the world seeming to shift and change before his eyes. Another image seemed to be juxtaposed over the first, flickering in and out of reality. In this second sight he saw the stranger, not as a man, but a phantom wreathed in flames, his eyes burning like hellish embers against the void.

The man took a single step forward.

"Stop! Not one step closer!" Robin demanded, taking a single step back. He thrust out his hand, lightning crackling around his fingertips in warning.

"Answer me, now! Who are you and what do you want?!"

. . . . .

Corrin froze at the question, tensing as the lightning continued to crackle around the hooded man's outstretched hand.

A flash of anger rose in Corrin, born from his still flowing blood and the lingering heat of battle. How dare he make demands of him! Who did he think he was? His breath escaped in a hiss, and for a brief instant he considered attacking on the spot.

Yet at once the more rational part of him stayed his hand. Whoever this person was, they seemed hesitant to fight him. Not only that, but they had fought against the other Invisible Soldiers. Perhaps he should answer. Maybe if they talked he could-

A sudden weight seemed to press down against Corrin's consciousness, driving the thought away. A sharp pain stabbed at his forehead, the dim light now all at once seeming painfully bright. He blinked, the world seeming to flicker before him. Rather than a man hooded in a coat, the image of a cloaked phantom seemed to have been laid over the first. The image of the assassin who had attacked him that day in the Hoshido capital. The Invisible Soldier who had taken Ganglari and used it to murder his mother as she'd tried to protect him. Even as the sight dimmed, returning to reality from before, Corrin could still see it clearly now. Could still see him.

What's going on? Why-

The pain flashed again, drowning out the thought. The harder he tried to think, the more difficult it seemed. Any thought of caution or hesitation seemed to slip away, yanked out of reach each time he tried to grasp upon them. In their place, anger and hate flowed forward, so easily that they felt entirely natural.

Corrin took another step forward.

"Not one more step! This is your last warning!" The hooded man snapped, raising his tome menacingly. "This is your last warning! Answer me!" He demanded.

From the depths of Corrin's mind, he heard a faint voice. While its words could not be made out, he could feel its intentions. It pushed him forward, urging him to strike out. Telling him that this man was his enemy. That he must attack now, before he is deceived by his lies.

"No," Corrin snapped. He took another step, baring his clenched teeth, letting the haze of rage and grief swallow him. "Not this time."

With that Corrin leapt forward, Yato gleaming as he launched his attack.

Author's Note:

Well guys, managed to get this one out on time it seems. With luck I can keep this up, as I plan to use winter break to get ahead of schedule again.

So yeah, looks like we got ourselves a fight between our two main protagonists. It's almost like this was some sort of predictable cliche of crossover stories or something. Yeah, kidding aside, I really couldn't resist on this particular cliche. I had so many good ideas for the upcoming fight, I just had to roll with it. Hopefully my reasoning for why (and the influence of a certain evil dragon) made it feel, well, reasonable.

Also, I went back to the past two chapters and updated the Character Spotlight Sections for Corrin and Kana at the end of chapters 1 and 2 respectively to flesh them out to match those I had in A Future Broken. So be sure to check those out if you are curious. Speaking of which, this chapter the Character Spotlight will be a bit of a repeat, featuring Robin, as already given in the aforementioned story.

Anyhow, as always I'd love to hear what you guys think of this one. So please take the time to leave a review letting me know what your thoughts are.

Speaking of which, time to respond to guest review, which there was only one of this week.

Darkness21: That is a very fair point on Xander's part and is exactly what I was trying to get across. Corrin, while definitely acting unreasonable, still did have a bit of a point. His entire life has really been a lot of other people trying to do what's best for him, and rarely has it turned out well. So it would make sense that it happen yet again, even if they are at least partially right, would set him off.

Anyhow, that's all for now. The next chapter should be out some time in the next two weeks. Until then, take care everyone, and have a wonderful day

Character Spotlight: Robin

Class: Grandmaster

Secondary Classes: Myrmidon, Mage, Cavalier, Knight, and Mercenary

Boon/Bane: +Speed/-Luck

Skills: Ignis, Luna, Vantage, Pavice, Aegis

Personal Skill: Invisible Ties - When user is the support unit, if the lead unit has a C Support or higher, the lead unit receives +5 to Hit Rate, Avoid, and Critical Evade, as well as shield gauge gain +1

Equipment: Thoron, Elwind, Arcfire, Mjolnir, Longsword (Stats of Alm's Blade)

Status: Alive

Combat Description: Always looking to further his own combat abilities both with magic and traditional martial prowess so that he can best protect his friends, Robin has spent a great deal of time training with the other Shepherds to learn their skills and technique. As a result he has picked up a wide variety of abilities beyond those known by a typical tactician.

While Robin favors magic, he is still a proficient swordsman: often using the two in unison to best defeat his foes. Recently, however, he has begun to fall back on his skills as a swordsman: discovering a diminished spellcasting ability since his return due to the absence of the Heart of Grima, which previously had granted him unnaturally heightened spellcasting capabilities.

In battle Robin utilizes his spell as his primary offensive weapon, dealing with foes at range before they have a chance to engage him in direct melee combat. It is only when an enemy manages to reach him that relies on his sword. Most of the time he fights defensively, using spells in combination with swordplay to keep foes guessing and catch them off guard. However, this of course is not the only tactic Robin is capable of. An incredibly versatile fighter, Robin has something for almost any situation. However, this focus on versatility had lead to Robin lacking much of the expertise in any given area as would be seen in more specialized combatants.