Chapter 24 - Calm Between Storms
The clatter of wooden training swords filled the clearing, their rapid tempo drowning out all other noise.
Marc darted back, the tip of his opponent's sword passing less than an inch from his chin. He leaned into his movement, letting his weight settle onto his back foot just in time to brace against the avalanche of fluid strikes that fell one after another.
"Oh, please do better than that. Even if this is merely practice, I'd hoped to have more of a challenge," mocked Inigo, pausing briefly to smirk before launching himself into another string of attacks.
Again Marc found himself on the defensive, unable to find any avenue of counter attack within the dizzying movements of Inigo's blade. Flowing, sweeping arcs carried his weapon from one strike to the next, so that it was constantly in motion. To an onlooker his moments would have seemed more akin to a dance than to that of fighting, a reality far different from the truth Marc had learned first hand. Every move and attack he made was guided by purpose and intent, each carefully aimed to disrupt and lead his opponent into opening themselves up for a decisive blow.
So far Marc had barely managed to avoid being entrapped in such a manner. But he was getting tired. He'd have to counter soon, or else this fight was good as lost.
Marc dodged one sweeping cut, stepping in close to meet his foe head on rather than try to put more distance as he had in previous exchanges. He feigned a parry, changing directions at the last moment to slash as Inigo's side. Even if this would allow Inigo's sword to hit his shoulder, so to would it leave him defenseless against Marc's "killing" blow.
Then Inigo's smirk turned into a full blown grin. Instead of hitting Marc's shoulder, Inigo's wooden sword merely grazed it, having altered it's arc to come in closer than expected. Wood clattered as Marc's arm was pressed wide, his own blade sweeping through empty air. The next thing he knew his was down on one knee, his arm twisted out by the hand gripping his wrist and the edge of a training sword pressed against its underside.
"I yield," Marc gasped.
"Excellent, I suppose that means I've won, doesn't it?" Inigo laughed, releasing his hold on Marc's wrist and withdrawing his blade.
Marc grimaced, rubbing his now stiff shoulder as the aching pain of the dancer's bind began to dissipate. If it had been an real fight, Inigo would have easily been able to lop off his arm, or worse. Still… he didn't have to make a show of it.
Claps filled the clearly, emanating from the overturned log where a small group of spectators had watched the fight.
"Come on, seriously? Are you people trying to feed his ego?" came Severa's voice. Marc didn't even have to turn her way to tell she was rolling her eyes.
"Ego? You wound me. Anyone who has known me for as long as you as you have should know I am the model of humility and decorum," Inigo scoffed, giving a cocky bow towards the audience even as he did so.
"Well, I thought it was spectacular," Ophelia chimed in. "The spiraling dance of singing blades, the clash of a servant of lords and a child of destiny. It gave me goosebumps just to behold it."
It's still so weird to think Owain and Severa already have a kid, Marc thought. He paused, a countering argument springing to mind. That said, they did already act like an old married couple. Least for as long a I've known them. So maybe it's not that hard to see.
"Oh, this is boring! We should have had more stabby stabby with real swords. Wooden ones are so boring. Well, unless you stab someone REAL hard with it," the girl with unusual hair color they call Peri said. She always gave Marc the chills, as every time she opened her mouth, something related to blood and possibly murder was said.
"Or… we could, you know, not kill our friends," Severa countered, visibly scooting away from Lord Xander's retainer. With only another dubious glance the cavalier's way, the redhead's eyes fell back squarely on Inigo. "Point is, no one likes a show off."
"Really? I always thought it was just you who don't like being shown up," Inigo shot back, his snide remark seeming to only increase the smug look of satisfaction he wore.
Oh, here we go… In three… two… one...
"Oh that's it!" Severa shouted, leaping to her feet right on cue, her face flushed red and arms flailing angrily as she let loose a stream of equally bitting retorts.
Marc could only smile as the two began to bicker, the others chiming in with their own remarks as well. The world and people around us may be different, but some things never change, huh. Turning towards the treeline, Marc watched a group of birds flitter through the branches overhead, their songs filling the air as they vanished from sight. The autumn leaves seemed to almost glow in the golden light of the setting sun, the world alight with fiery hues.
It was the second day since they'd reached the shore of the land called Izumo. According to what father had relayed to him, it would be at least another few days march before they reached the small nation's capital. They'd only set up camp in the past hour, their small group having broken away from the others to pass the time with a few sparring matches while the night's meal was prepared. Without any other more important duties available for him to take, Marc had accepted the invitation to join. Besides, he had figured it would be a good opportunity to get to know his new companions as well as catch up with his old friends.
Marc shook his head, snapping himself out of his reflection. With the others' bickering showing no sign of losing momentum, Marc stepped forward, interjecting himself into their midst. "So, you up for round two?" he asked. The clamor died away as eyes fell on him.
"Oh. Of course," Inigo answered, turning to him with a smirk that oozed confidence. "I'd gladly accept any challenge. Though, I will say I'm surprised to see you so willing to enter the fray once again."
"I guess I'm full of surprises," Marc countered, shrugging his shoulder. "Though as surprises go, the biggest one was how much you improved. I remember you being a whole lot worse. No offense," Marc quickly added as he finished. I… probably could have phrased that better. Most likely.
"Well, I have had nearly three years of time to perfect my skills, thanks to the disparate nature of the passage of time each of us experienced. More than enough, I think, to close the gap born of the benefits your heritage granted you in this matter," Inigo said, giving a cocky smile as he bowed in mock graciousness.
"Wow, Inigo. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that was an insult. But, of course, you have far too much tact for that," Marc said. He bent down, retrieving his practice sword before lining up across from Inigo for their next bout. "Good thing too, since we're bound to find my sister too. And, wow, there's a situation you'll need a whole lot of tact."
Inigo blanched at the mention of Morgan, his smirk vanishing completely as he paled. His mouth fell half open, as for a moment it looked like he was going to say something. But he hesitated, standing there dumbly with his sword slack in his hands.
Whatever he'd wanted to say in that moment, Marc never found out. For the instant Inigo paused, Marc threw himself forward, slashing at his shoulder. Inigo barely raised his sword in time, the force of the block knocking his arm back and sending him teetering back a step.
Marc unleashed a flurry of blows, battering Inigo back. Flashes of the last encounter played out before him even as he moved, seeing clearly his mistakes. His fighting style uses flowing movements to conserve as much momentum as possible. He uses this to stay in control, keeping the pressure up without expending too much energy. The unconventional style also makes it difficult to predict, with the following movements being well suited to utilize sudden changes in the speed and tempo of his attacks to throw off an opponent's. However, this relies on him being in control of the battle. So if I never allow him to take control…
Marc hooked Inigo's sword, pressing his arm wide. He shifted his balance onto his front leg, dropping forward underneath the retaliatory slash aimed at his shoulders. He braced a hand against the grip, letting his weight shift onto his arm as he twisted around. A sweeping kick took Inigo's legs out from underneath him, sending the swordsman crashing to the ground. Straightening, Marc, casually kicked the wooden training sword out of his grasp, lowering his own weapon to point at his opponent's chest.
…then I should have no trouble beating him, Marc told himself, concluding his earlier thought.
"Ooh, that one looked like it stung. Got a bit off too cocky, there, didn't you," hollard Severa from where she watched on the sidelines, smirking behind the hand used to stifle her laughter. "You were so confident a moment ago. You sure you didn't let your victory get to your head?"
"Just… oh, shut up," Inigo grumbled, visibly flustered by both his swift defeat and the redhead's teasing. "This was hardly a fair contest. How was I supposed to know he was going to try to throw off my focus like that?"
"Tactics are tactics," Marc countered. He bowed, mimicking the same almost condescending manner Inigo had done but moments before. "Besides, I didn't really expect you to get so easily distracted like that. Can you blame me for using the opportunity once it presented itself?" he finished, extending a hand.
"You know, despite looking the same, I always wondered how you and Morgan could possibly be twins. But I think I see it now," Inigo chided, even as he accepted Marc's offered hand.
Marc opened his mouth to reply, only to be silenced as a bell chimed in the distance, coming from camp.
"I believe that was the mess tent announcing that dinner has been prepared," Silas noted, standing up from where he'd watched along with the others.
The others stood as well, gathering up their own training weapons as they started back towards camp.
Marc turned as well, only to be stopped by Inigo, who had lingered in place. He held up a hand, signaling for him to wait.
Soon enough only the two of them remained in the clearing alone.
"So, um, I guess you want to talk about something, huh?" Marc asked. He frowned, already having a pretty good idea what this was about. "This is about Morgan, isn't it." It wasn't a question.
Inigo nodded slowly. Turning, he took a seat down on the now vacant log, his gaze staring at nothing in particular. "What you said before… what does Morgan think… of me… after I left. I tried to ask your parents, but they never gave me a straight answer, so I can't help but fear…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
"I… I'm not sure if I can answer that." Marc stared at his wrist, his fingers brushing over the spot where his fell brand lay hidden. "It's… complicated. Morgan would never talk about it, not even to me. She was hurt, Inigo. When you left, she took it personally. I think she saw you leaving without even telling her why, as a rejection."
"But I couldn't… I wanted to, but I was told…"
"I know you had your reasons, but I am not sure if Morgan will see it the same way," Marc answered. He sighed, his shoulders slumping wearily. "I'm sorry, but I just don't know. I don't know if Morgan will be angry, or bitter, or just upset. I don't know."
"So you're saying there's no hope?"
Marc shook his head. "No. I'm just saying that when you do see her… Be careful. I think it's entirely possible that seeing you again so unexpectedly might only cause everything she felt when you left to come back all at once."
Inigo nodded but said nothing, he eyes fixed on something far away in the distant=ce.
Marc dug at the dirt with the tip of his boot, carving a shallow line as he fidgeted. Gods, what am I supposed to say? I don't have any experience at this. Indeed, the total extent of his first hand exposure to relationships came from the scant few months he and Nah had been dating prior to him leaving the world. And so far they'd had to deal with nothing of this sort.
What's worse, here he was trying to council his sister's… boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? Regardless of the status of the relationship, it was awkward all the same.
Gritting his teeth as he mustered up his courage, Marc took a step forward. He cleared his throat, causing Inigo to glance up at him. "Look, Inigo. I can try to talk to Morgan when we find her, okay? I don't know if that will help, but… if it's possible for you two to patch things up, I hope you will. I believe Morgan does care about you, no matter how hurt she may be right now."
"Thank you, I… I appreciate it." Inigo smiled, though this time it was devoid of the confidence he had shown before. "Sorry for keeping you. Go on ahead, I'll catch up in a bit."
Marc hesitated for an instant, then nodded. Right, probably wants to be alone to think about this. Best to leave him to that.
Lifting a hand in farewell, Marc turned towards camp. He pulled up his hood against the evening chill that had begun to set in, letting it settle over his head and fall over his eyes. He sighed, pausing to adjust the garment before continuing on.
The conversation continued to play out again and again in his mind, stubbornly refusing to subside even as he tried to focus his attention elsewhere.
Just what I needed, more things to fret about today.
. . . . .
Lucina scanned the mess tent, searching for any familiar faces with whom to spend the evening meal.
She spied several of her friends, Owain and Severa included, seated at the table that had been set up in a far corner of the tent. She smiled, starting towards them, only to stop as she noticed Marc already there with them. At this she thought better of it. She'd hate the be the sort of overly-doting mother who intruded on every aspect of her son's life. Besides, it was good to see Marc so readily and openly interacting with others: a far cry from how he had once sequestered himself away for much of the first of many months following coming to her own adopted world. Best not risk disrupting his fun.
Seems I must look elsewhere.
With Robin currently absent, having been occupied with his research, Lucina had been left mostly to her own devices for most of the day. No that she minded it, nor did she begrudge him. The work he was doing was of the utmost importance, not to mention having some time to herself was always welcome. Yet it had resulted in the predicament she now found herself in.
I suppose I could always go find Robin if need be. I could even bring him a plate. I'm sure he'd welcome a warm meal, Lucina considered. But she quickly shook her head at this idea. No, too often did she remain within the comforts of routine and familiarity. She could not remain isolated, only interacting with those she'd already grown familiar.
"Looking for something?" came a gruff voice from behind her.
Lucina nearly leapt in surprise. She spun around, nearly spilling her food in her haste. She would have too, if not for the the firm hand that shot out and righted the plate the very moment it had begun to tip.
"Oh. I must apologize. I did not see you there, Sir Gunter," Lucina quickly replied as soon as she saw who it was who had approached her. She made a conscious effort to lift her hand from Falchion's hilt, having gone for her weapon on pure instinct, a fact that rather shamed her. Despite years removed from the constant dangers she faced in her future, she had not been able to fully extricate herself from the habits born of the time that was now but a memory.
"Hrmph," Gunter grunted, nodding his head. He looked her up and down, as if trying to get a read of her intentions. "I saw you standing alone in the center of the tent. Figured it wise to ask if something was wrong."
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to arouse concern," Lucina apologized, dipping her head respectfully. "I am ashamed to admit it, but I was trying to determine whom with I should spend the evening with. I still feel much like an outsider, and feared of intruding where I am not welcome," Lucina explained.
Gunter nodded again. For a long moment he said nothing, his gaze firmly upon her. "If that's the case, then I'd be willing to act as your escort and bridge the gap as it were between you and the others."
"I appreciate the offer, Sir Gunter, but I am afraid I cannot accept. I do not wish to trouble you and take up your own time for something as silly as my inability to strike up a conversation," Lucina replied, caught thoroughly off-guard by the knight's offer .
"It's no trouble. To the contrary, I am in your debt, so that I will gladly assist in this manner," Gunter replied
Lucina blinked, unsure how to process this new piece of information. "I am afraid I do not rightly follow. In my debt for what, I may ask?"
"Lord Corrin," the aged knight replied simply. "I'm not sure if you are aware, but I was his caretaker for many years. Despite his age, he was treated no better than a prisoner, so I took it upon myself to do what I could to improve things for him. I made an oath that I'd do whatever I could to see the boy happy. And though circumstances have changed, old habits die hard."
"I see, " Lucina said, grasping his meaning. He's thanking me for how Robin and I have aided Corrin in overcoming his grief. Sir Gunter must have felt helpless to aid him, just as his siblings and his other friends had.
It seems that in many way, his relationship with Lord Corrin is much like that between Frederick and father, Lucina noted.
"Is something the matter? You keep staring at me," Gunter noted. Lucina blinking sharply, feeling her face heat up immensely in embarrassment at her lapse.
"S-Sorry!" Lucina quickly apologized. "It's just… you remind me of someone that used to care for me, after my… father passed away."
That must have peaked the elderly knight's interest, as his eyes widened ever so slightly and he arched an eyebrow. "Oh? If I may be so bold, may I ask who?"
Lucina opened her mouth to answer, only to grimace as memories invaded her mind. Images of the gallant knight filled her vision, standing before her as a horde of Risen charged towards them.
Princess! You must leave! Lady Lissa is just beyond here! I shall hold off these creatures! Now flee!
She bit lip, her heart clenching as pain spread through her like a horrible gripping disease. The final memory burned itself into her mind, the image of the knight's broken, bloodstained armor, wielding but a single axe as he struck down wave after wave of corpses with immense resolve, until at last even he was overwhelmed.
Gunter must have noticed this, as he soon spoke again. "Forgive me. I clearly must have dug up some painful memories for you."
Lucina shook her head, trying her best to push those dark thoughts away. "No no, this isn't your fault at all, I assure you," she tried to explain. But her struggle was for naught, try as she might the memories continued to linger, refusing to loosen their hold. She sighed, hanging her head sadly. "I always can't help but think of them all the time. I feel like my mind refuses to allow me to bury them away…"
The silence that followed clearly did nothing good for either participant's mood. At this rate, Lucina suspected that she might have to excuse herself. She had already inconvenienced the knight more than she-
"Well, at least when it comes to having a dark mood, then of the four, you definitely win," a voice suddenly cut in. Lucina turned, seeing Lord Leo's other retainer, Niles, approaching.
"Niles," Gunter greeted, crossing his arms as he turned to face the archer.
Leo's retainer smirked at this, shaking his head. "My, my. I pop in to say hello and I'm already met with suspicion. Afraid I'll not be on my best behavior with our esteemed guest, are we?"
"What do you mean?" Lucina asked, feeling rather confused. Sure, from their scant few interactions, she'd gathered that Niles could say some mean words, but nothing ever struck her as odd from Niles, despite how sometimes people were uncomfortable with the words he said.
"I speak of your friends of course," Niles answered, his piercing gaze falling onto Lucina now. "I'd alway found it quite suspicious how the three of them seemed to have appeared as if from thin air, with no past prior to their sudden appearance in Nohr. Color me surprised to find out how right my observations had been, even if I'd have never dreamed to discover they'd come from another time and place entirely."
"Believe me, it came as a shock to me as well to find out they traveled to another world," Lucina confessed.
"Yet it explains so very much, now that I can see it. I can only speculate what your future must have been like, given the manner in which each seems to have taken to coping with unpleasant memories," Niles commented, flashing a knowing smile.
"Niles…" Gunter warned, eyes narrowing.
Lucina, however, shook her head. "It's okay, Sir Gunter. It is true. We've all gone through something that we can't ever get over. We've experienced the loss of our family, our home, and essentially, our entire world. The pain we each felt abandoning the world that we failed is something that perhaps we ourselves simply refuse to let go. Perhaps because it's to serve as a reminder of our failure, or just some connection to where we once belonged…"
Niles seemed to have lost his smile now and now looked rather serious. He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Sheesh, you certainly know how to kill the mood," he noted, shooting a glance Gunter's way and adding, "And relax. I make it a rule not to try and get a rise out of anyone that had gone through their fair share or hardships."
Get a rise? Is that what Niles did? Lucina really couldn't tell at times.
"To be honest, whenever I've spoken to your friends, I would never have guessed that they've gone through such hardships," Gunter confessed, seemingly surrendering any attempt to lecture the former outlaw.
With Owian's colorful language, Inigo's flirtatious habits, and Severa's attempts to escape her mother's shadow, it makes sense why others would find it unusual. Well…
Lucina felt a small smile tugging despite the seriousness of the situation, born of thoughts of all her other friends.
"They aren't the only ones. I have several other friends who are similar in many regards. Like my little sister. She acts very much like Owain does, though perhaps with a greater emphasis on wishing to be seen in a very heroic light," Lucina said, her smiling deeping and she gave a small giggle.
Niles however seemed to actually slightly pale further than normal at that. "There's another one? Please tell me you're joking. First Odin, then his daughter, and now a third? I genuinely pray that I would never have to experience the misfortune of running into her as well."
The giggle turned into pure laughter as Lucina could not help herself. "They can be a bit of a handful, but I would not see them changed in any way. Yes, we've all faced hardships, but they've all come out stronger for. Not a day goes by where I'm not proud of them," Lucina shook her head, letting her laughter die away, realizing at once what she was doing. "I must apologize for my lapse. I am afraid I must have seemed rather childish as of now."
"Believe it or not, I cannot claim things are much different for many of us here," Niles replied. His smile had returned, only now it seemed almost warm, matching his less harsh gaze. "Many here have also faced much hardships, and have come to our own various eccentricities. Not that I am one to talk. Though I'm sure it really doesn't compare to yours."
Lucina nodded, though was quick to shift to shaking it. "That isn't true. The hardships that everyone faces are painful to them. I would never try to insist that the pain that my friends and I have shared are greater than others," Lucina countered. It was true that what she and the others had endured was painful, but they would never be so arrogant to claim they suffered the most when everyone had their own share of tragedy.
"We all experienced things differently. Rather than foolishly compete and wallow in self-pity, it would be good to instead try to understand one another instead, to help ease the burden," Gunter stated.
"That's true," Niles agreed. "Though at least our dear Lucina here isn't like the others. Maybe they could learn a thing or two from her."
Was he calling her the most normal?
Lucina though shook her head at the remark. "I doubt they would ever change themselves truly, regardless of how much time passes, since…"
A few minutes soon stretched into dozens as Lucina found herself continuing to regale her quite unexpected audience with stories of her friends, particularly regarding the lives of the three travelers prior to coming to this world. Before she knew it, they'd been talking for almost an hour's time, the others joining in with some stories of their own. Through it all, the apprehension she'd felt before had completely vanished.
Despite the many differences this world held with her own, in many ways too, it seemed it was very much like her own. Perhaps she too no longer had to feel out of place among them.
. . . . .
Parchment crinkled as Robin turned the page of the dusty old tome that lay on the table before him. He leaned closer, trying his best to piece out the faded runes through the flickering candlelight.
He turned his head, coughing into the back of his hand. The musty room was starting to get to him, the stifling air carrying an almost oppressive weight as it pressed down on him from all sides. Pushing back his chair, Robin stood, dusting off his coat. After untangling himself from his chair, he closed the tome and set it aside, vowing to come back to it the next morning. Scooping up a stack of parchments, he stepped out of the record hall.
The stars of an alien sky twinkled over the astral keep, shifting the swirling dance before his eyes. The sound of gentle waves filled the air as they lapped at the island's shores, the calm sea stretching out in all directions into infinity. The castle's yards lay still, as almost all had remained in the waking world for that evening. Only a few had come here that night as Robin had, though he now suspected most had retired for the evening by this point.
Yet weary as he was, his mind still raced. Sleep would elude him if he tried to rest now. Sighing, Robin picked his way through the keep, finding an isolated spot outside the forge. A lantern hung from a chain over the entranceway, casting a small sphere of warmth and light against the night that crept in all around.
Taking a seat on the steps, Robin began leafing through the parchments he'd taken, trying to occupy his mind with one of the many puzzles that he'd pondered over the past few days.
Ever since leaving Notre Sagesse, he'd continued his effort to decipher the many scrolls and tomes they'd retrieved, pouring over them for any scrap of knowledge that might assist them, this night having been no different.
However, one document had stood out: a single parchment that was of far more recent age but set in the same ancient runes as the others. It had defied all his efforts to translate it, following no language he was aware of. As best as he could tell, it was either nothing more than random characters… or as it was more likely, a cipher he had yet to crack.
All the simple replacement ciphers have failed so far. If could be a more complex formula used to determine the offset of which character it uses… trial and error won't do much good in that regard. He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. There was still so much they still didn't know. The way into Valla after the changing of the skies, a method of circumventing the curse, not to mention the uphill battle of convincing Hoshido to ally with Nohr so soon after a brutal war.
And if they don't they're doomed. I wonder if he foresaw this future. My friends did say Anankos told them that nearly every road ahead of them lay dark. Could this be one where hope is already gone? Is this world already doomed?
"We're not pawns of some scripted fate. I believe we're more. "
He'd told Chrom that long ago, that memory seeming a lifetime away. He'd believed it was possible for them to mold their own fates back then, hadn't he? Why should it now be any different? As far back as his memories reached, brief as that time had been, he'd struggled against the path fate had ordained for him. A fate from which he'd been freed where in many other worlds he had not.
Fate can be changed. I believe that. So too must I believe this world too can shape their own destinies.
Yet the very real power of prophecy that Anankos possessed could not be ignored. Even if the futures he, both halves, had seen were not set in stone, that knowledge could surely cast some light on the road ahead. If only he could know for certain, to have that prophecy at his fingertips…
Robin stopped, an idea dawning on him.
A prophecy...
Robin leapt to his feet, setting the parchments aside before sprinting back towards the record hall. Tearing through the stacks of notes he'd left on the center table, he quickly found what he was looking for. With the slip of paper in hand, he sprinted back to the forge. Gathering up both the ciphered text and a blank sheet, he laid them out next to the third document he'd retrieved.
On the third paper was copied down the lyrics of a song. The very song Corrin's wife, Azura, had once sang. From what Corrin and everyone else had told him, the song was ancient, carrying both great power as well as foretelling events to come.
And he had a hunch that it was the key to deciphering the text before him. Pouring over the two, his suspicion was quickly confirmed. If he excluded the song's chorus, the number of characters in each line matched the first three blocks of coded text. That meant that the cipher was written in the common tongue, but using ancient draconic runes in the place of the modern alphabet.
However, he'd tried a simple replacement like this before, to no success. That was only the first step of the puzzle. Comparing the two versions, he found that each instance of a single letter in the common alphabet was replaced by a different rune each time it occurred in a the coded version. Jotting them down, he was given a repeating list of five runes corresponding to each letter. If he was correct then if he assumed this replacement pattern continued for the rest of the document, then he could work his way backwards and with a bit of trial and error in the cases where the patterns overlapped, decipher the rest of the document.
With this knowledge in and a grin plastered over his face, Robin set to work, copying the rest of the text over using this cipher. To his elation, the rest of the document came out legible, forming blocks of text rendered out in the common tongue.
Setting his quill aside when he was done, Robin held up the now translated text. Following the song's lyrics, it read as so:
A dragon neither white nor black
saw his future self
as no more than a caged beast
A dragon neither white nor black
sang three songs of prophecy
so someday his soul might be released
Once dragons fought against each
other using humans as pawns
They empowered their pawns
with drops of their own blood
In time the dragonblooded humans
became royalty even as the
dragons descended into beasthood
To escape madness the dragons
threw off their mortal flesh and
became ascended spirits
They left the world to humanity
except for the few dragons who
chose to remain
The child of light kidnapped in
the dark is not of nohr blood
nor a child of the hoshidan king
The child was born of
the white queen and silent dragon
The silent dragon is the true father
Robin froze, rereading the text several times to ensure he got it right. Had this been written by the Rainbow Sage, sometime before his death? It seemed to recount the war between the ancient dragons of this world. There was definitely some parallels between what was described here and the similar conflict that had been fought in the ancient past of his own world.
A dragon neither white nor black. That must refer to Anankos. If so, then the three songs were referring to the three stanzas of the very song Azura had once sung. Anakos must have seen this future long ago. He knew he would fall to degeneration, just like the dragons of my world did. Does that mean the song holds some secret to aiding in his defeat? From what Corrin said, it did possess power, power to resist and undo Anankos' magic. Could this be what that meant?
Robin shook his head. Perhaps, but he didn't know enough to say for certain. There was still too much he did not know. Shoving that question aside for the present, his mind wandered to the last section, and to the final line.
Anankos is the true father.
Robin grimaced. This, in the end, was no big revelation. Ever since he'd heard Inigo, Severa, and Owain's account of their dealing with Anankos' good half, he'd suspected that the dragon's connection to Corrin was familial in nature. All this did was confirm those suspicions.
I can't let Corrin find out.
Robin felt his hand tighten into a fist. He hated having to resort to lies and secrets, regardless of how very often they proved a necessity. Misdirection and subterfuge in battle was one thing, that was just good strategy. But to lie to a friend?
Robin's teeth clenched tightly, enough that his jaw began to ache.
But he had to lie. If Corrin found out the truth: that everything he knew about his parentage and family lineage was a lie, that his true father had been a fragment of the very enemy they now faced and that more likely than not no longer existed…
That knowledge might very well break him.
Crumpling up the translated parchment in his hand, Robin whispered a word under his breath. A small, burst of fire consumed the paper, crumpling to ashes as it fell through his fingers. If need be he could translate it again in the future, omitting the last part. He could not afford that piece of knowledge becoming known. At least not to any but Inigo, Severa, and Owain, who he was certain were already privy to it. He probably couldn't even risk tell Lucina, if only out of fear of them being overheard.
I'm sorry, Corrin. But for your own well being I hope that of all the answers you seek, that this one in particular remains out of your reach.
Author's Note: What's this? A chapter out in three weeks instead of four? What dark sorcery is this?!
Joking aside, I hope you guys enjoyed this little detour from the main plot for a bit of downtime. I figured that I needed to have Robin, Lucina, and Marc interact a bit with the others, particularly Fates characters who haven't really done anything in the story yet (or even appeared for that matter). I hope to do more of this sort of thing in the future, so hopefully it worked well here.
No idea when next chapter will be out, even though I intend for it to be a rather short one due to how it provides a very good cutoff point between it and the chapter that will follow. The reason a short chapter that I only suspect will be about 2000-3000 words at the most may take awhile, is because in two weeks time there is going to be a Robin x Lucina shipping week over on tumblr, hosted by the rufuruki blog over there. I will of course be taking part, and as a result have two weeks to write seven oneshots. With luck I will be posting these to Love Across Time in addition to my tumblr blog, the-werdna. So look out for those and wish me luck on getting them done on time!
Anyhow, onto guest review
Guest - Thank you for the review! I am glad you appreciate my efforts to make Corrin less of a walking deviantart OC. And do not worry, I fully intend to finish this story or die trying.
Darkness21 - Really? I thought it was of average length. And yeah, the whole scattering thing was exactly the game thing that happened in Awakening. Looks like there are some reunions ready to happen soon, both with Morgan and Inigo, as well as Corrin and his sisters. Things are definitely going to get… drama filled… pretty soon.
Dracofighter - I mean, they remembered… but the circumstances changed. Everyone else was still there, so they figured if anyone was to go, it would best be them. Also they didn't care at this point. Finding their parents is more important.
Well that's all for now. Let me know what you guys think on that one. Until the next one. Peace!