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Kintsugi no Fusei

Book 1: On Fields of Fate

Chapter 10: Of a Flame Anew


With her bounded hair gently swaying in the wind, Robin felt her heart pound in anticipation and apprehensiveness. A quick look at her pale hands, now fuller in shape and not thin to the bones like before, revealed them twitching, jittery, as it all confirmed what she currently felt. Silent as she was sitting on the tree's roots that hid their home, she could almost see the sights her eyes had not laid upon in years.

Beyond these woods, the small hills, and the open plains, her childhood home awaited. The farm her mother worked hard to cultivate on her lonesome before she (and in this world, her brother) could help. Their house, where many days and nights passed, went over lessons that she would need to survive, and thrive. The barn which housed Sharur, Arion, and Aigle. The only friends she could have had then.

Then further on, the quaint town that she had scant memories of, the Farfort itself.

The pale tactician took a deep breath, then released it with a sigh of similar depth as an ugly feeling she hated, the heat of undeserved jealousy, built up steadily in her chest. "…at least you got to explore Robin."

Being too much of a dead ringer for her mother in her younger years, no simple glamour would have been able to hide her. When a glamour trinket was in use, the more changes it created from the original features of its wearer, the more noticeable the magical trace it left. Even as the Heart of Grima who had yet to Awaken, wearing anything more complex than a color-changing glamour would have tipped off an adept Mage to their location and led them to investigate.

That possibility was something they could not afford to happen at all. Not when Plegia, or rather the Grimleal through it, had released portraits of her mother far and wide. Even Ylisse had received such portraits and shared them for a multitude of reasons. The most obvious reason was that Plegia had given the promise of a wealthy boon to those who could give information about the missing heir to the Plegian Throne. A prolonged glance at her would have raised far too many questions.

No, it was safer for her to remain at home. She only got to go out on very rare occasions, and often not for long.

Pragmatic, but that did not mean Robin had to like it. At least she had her mother, Sharur, Aigle, Arion, and occasionally, the vague memories of one Anna visiting them. And to be honest, that was more than enough for her. It always has been.

Of course, she knew a peace like that could not last long. They both knew that. Rather, all of them did. And thus, she hated what had forced her out.

Clenching her fists at the burgeoning thought, the pale tactician released the heat building in her scarred chest once more. This was getting her nowhere. She needed to do something.

Unbidden, her purple eyes turned to a small satchel that her mother had left her, currently placed just by her right. She thought of the weight it held and what it had hidden inside, something that she had been denied in her months of imprisonment. Now, it called to her like a moth to flames.

With a gulp of air, Robin reached for the leather satchel and placed it oh so carefully on her lap. There, the shape of the hidden object was more pronounced. Rectangular, hard, and weighty in ways no mere book could just be. A Magic Tome.

Now what? She pondered to herself unsurely as she gazed upon the thing. Should I open it? Read it? Use–

The thought was cut short as the mouth of the dugout to her left opened and revealed Shirou as he climbed out of it, a stuffed pack fastened onto his back. With a practiced motion that was muscle memory at this point, he took out the pommel of her mother's sword from the tree it was deposited in and screwed it back on, sealing the dugout once more before he turned to look at her.

Unbidden, their eyes locked together in an instant, yet her breath still hitched all the same as she saw the warm fire that was his smile bloom on his face as time seemed to stretch.

It was unfair. This was unfair! What did she even do to deserve such kindness? To have someone who already had so little be so generous and give her the promise of so much more, with just the smile on his face. This ever-persistent thought circled in her head again as her heart thundered inside.

"Robin." Like a sword cutting through, the amnesiac archer called to her as he knelt on one knee and offered her his right hand. If he leaned any closer…and she did as well, would their faces brush together? What would that feel like? Would she like that? Would he also?

"Yes, Shirou?" The pale tactician asked as she accepted his offered hand, basking in its warmth and gentleness once more. With both hands, she idly traced the calluses of his, old and new as she patiently waited for his response.

The man in turn stewed on his thoughts, his amber and steel eyes opened just a bit more as he looked at their hands. Hesitance slowly creeping in at the silence and his stare, she tried to take her hands away, only for his fingers to curl around hers and stop her as a smile graced his features once more.

Features that seemed to be different, as if there was somehow more warmth in them.

And Robin had to fight the urge to squirm in place, to get even closer. A sentiment that he seemed to return as she found the distance between them decreasing bit by bit. Close enough that their faces were now only a few inches apart. The warmth was entrancing and in the depths of her being, the urge to surrender and bask in it sung.

The moment was soon broken however as Shirou blinked before red gently colored the paler portions of his face, and cleared his throat all of a sudden. "Are you ready?"

For what? She wanted to ask but her reply came faster than she could consciously think. "With you, I am."

A moment hung over them as they registered those four words for what it was.

For all her prowess in tactics, military or political, the pale tactician could only be stumped at what she had just said to him. Four simple words, hidden beneath it a charged complexity of emotions. Emotions that she had no words for and daunting her mind for what it meant.

She knew that she could not take those words back.

Yet, even as her heart pounded louder than drums and the heat flooded her cheeks.

Robin Daraen knew she had spoken the truth and that she would stand by it.

"Shirou, I am ready." She said with more conviction as her lips curled into a smile. "So, let's be off!"

Shirou looked stunned at her declaration but it did not last long. It started small and almost too quiet, but with each passing second, she could hear him laugh louder. A joyous sound from a stoic man. A rare sound she wanted to hear more, as she let his hand slip from hers and basked in the moment of seeing him laugh and be happy.

"Hahaha! Alright then!" With those two words being her only warning, the pale tactician let out a yelp as he suddenly scooped her into his arms and stood in one fluid motion. Now in his strong arms, she was again pressed gently against his well-sculpted torso. Something she could feel more accurately as he was not wearing his black armor and had opted for a simple tunic to wear instead.

okay, I did not plan for this. She thought as blood rushed to her face within seconds, all too aware of that sensation taking hold of her once more. You are a dangerous man, Shirou.

"I will do as the lady says." Robin heard him say, sounding as much of a tease as he was a serious man. Whatever the case was, she could only focus on the grin on his face as he faced her, his mismatched eyes alight. "Hold on tightly then Robin."

At Shirou's request, she remembered her satchel and let out a chuckle of her own at his excitement. Swiftly, she put her head and left arm through the strap before her arms clung to him, clasping her fingers at the back of his neck. All the while she felt his arms grasp her more securely, his metal arm under her still recovering legs and his right arm supporting her back.

It was the textbook cradle carry– or as it was otherwise known, a bridal carry. Maybe even a princess carry.

She could only thank the stars that her mother was not here to see this.

"Ready?" He asked once again.

"As I'll ever be," was her reply, barely hiding the anticipation in her tone. Perhaps a bit of worry as she looked down at the direction they would take, down the trees that littered the hill of their home. "…are you sure this is safe?"

"Don't worry Robin." The redhead answered as he bent his legs, preparing for a jump.

"I won't let you fall." And with that line filled with confidence, he immediately leaped into action, his powerful legs lit with azure lines clearing a distance she was now awake to see and experience.

"WHOA!" Her grip on him tightened and she almost closed her eyes as her stomach seemed to drop after the apex of their jump. It intensified when they began to descend, getting closer and closer to a tree up front.

Despite this fright, he remained true to his word. He did not let her fall.

As if he were the wind, they were off the tree's branch with nary a scratch, seconds passing before he repeated the trick on another tree. The process repeated, each leap more gentle, more efficient than the last. Eventually, it felt like she was…

Floating.

The single tail of her bounded hair fluttered in the air as sight after sight of the Farfort's wilds filled her eyes. Familiar sceneries of nature, of her childhood now seen differently. And even if she now had the memories of seeing these same views atop a Griffon's smooth flight, there was something different now.

It was rougher and briefer.

Yet Robin knew, in the depths of her scarred heart, beating calm and content, she would not exchange this experience for that any time soon.

Her purple eyes turned to Shirou, steel and amber eyes kept ahead yet occasionally glancing at hers after every bound.

This…this was intimate. A new memory to treasure, to ingrain with her soul, one little fire of hope to keep her warm in the darkness.

And even if it was only her feeling it, her delusion…she believed it was real.

"I won't let you fall."

The Champion of Naga did not need to promise her…

With you, I am…I–

Because the Heart of Grima had already fallen for him.


A journey of hours passed by in only minutes, roaming– no, floating over roaming hills and fields of green. At one point, Robin had seen a sparkle of the sunlit waters of the Rinne River. The brief glimpse reminded her of the Willow Tree that stood nearby, the brief time that she and Shirou spent there together, and the kind image of him smiling at her underneath its leafy shade.

A sight that had become so much more familiar for her to see, more readily accessed with every single day she spent with him, yet one that was still unsurpassed.

The pale tactician even wondered if it ever would. And if so, how would it be surpassed? How could it even go beyond what she was already feeling or experiencing?

"WOOOHOOO!"

I do not know for sure. She pondered as her ponytail fluttered in the wind. Her arms raised in elation as giggles bubbled from her mouth. All while she felt rather than saw that amused smile of his on her as he held her closer, tighter, to compensate for her actions. Or maybe I do.

And in the depths of her scarred heart, there laid the answer—a wish unspoken, planted by the recent revelation she just had, waiting to bloom.

But alas, that would have to wait as she saw the first pair of buildings at the edge of civilization.

Soon, they arrived at their first stop for the day.

As the sound of Shirou's boots hit stone and pavement, Robin let out a heavy breath as her arms went down to around his neck again. The excitement, the euphoria she had drunk her fill of, submerged to melancholy and nostalgia as she looked around.

A barn and a house connected by a stone courtyard, all of them bearing some scars but relatively well maintained. Nearby it was a personal garden and further still was the land cultivated for crops.

This, this was her home. A home she hadn't seen nor set foot in, for decades.

"I…I never thought I'd see this place again." She found herself speaking as her eyes became a little misty. "It's been so long. Too long."

"You're here now Robin and that's what matters." The Champion of Naga told her as he began to walk slowly, his mismatched eyes examining their surroundings for a moment. At one point, his eyes narrowed in the distance as if seeing something only he could. He must have been satisfied, however, as he smiled briefly with a curt nod before looking at her again. "Is there anywhere in particular you would like to see here?"

At the question, the pale tactician gazed cautiously at the house before putting her gaze back on him, feeling confused. "I do but…why are we here? This is dangerous Shirou."

Risking another glance, she pursed her lips together as worry crawled inside her. "Who knows if my brother is here? I– we don't know what will happen if we meet."

There were so many ways that this risk could go wrong for worse. Chief among those ways would inevitably result in her brother as confused, suspicious, and maybe even fearful of her. She, who could be mistaken for a younger and scarred doppelganger of their mother, was a stark reminder of the past they had escaped from in the flesh.

A past that we must face sooner or later. The former Heart of Grima thought darkly as her mind once again turned its focus to a thought she was dreading.

None other than the impending discovery of their location then by an insidious trap long in the making by her damned father and his Grimleal cult. Not long after that, there was a series of unfortunate events that culminated in the assassination of her mother.

"I know. Or rather, I know only parts of it and that is through what I can perceive it to be. I don't know how it truly is for you. So, forgive me if I am overstepping Robin." He admitted with his brows creased together. Despite this, the look in his eyes remained the same as it ever was as it locked with her own.

Serious as steel and ardent as amber. Combined, the gentle intensity of his gaze lessened her worries somewhat. Being held in his arms reminded her that while he did not receive a sword of legend, he did have an arm of similar might and significance, while both his conviction and nature were like a shining sword poised to protect her.

The Divine Dragon Champion could harm her just as a sword could harm its wielder. But she trusted him not to harm her, not when she too could harm him as the new Fell Dragon and that was something that she could not stomach. If they did harm each other… "I can only hope that this bond of ours is strong enough to survive it."

Yes, that was the only course of action she could take without sinking into needless paranoia, and she knew from painful experience how easy it was to drown in it. Faith would be her lifeline.

"And not to sound arrogant or a know-it-all, but…I have thought of this before. I even had a discussion of it with Morgana." Shirou revealed before he smiled at her and if her eyes did not deceive her, a touch of excitement seemingly seeped into the way his lips curled. "I do not think you have to worry that much. At least, just for today."

In response, Robin shelved her thoughts and raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "How so Shirou?"

At the question, the smile on his face became something a bit more teasing. The sight of it prompted her to reach out with her free hands and lightly pinch his cheeks. However, the action she took only seemed to make his expression more insufferable and invited her to add more pressure. As her own lips began to curl, she could not help but giggle and say, "Stop your smirking and tell me already, Shirou."

"Well, to begin with, we have already taken precautions." An all too familiar voice suddenly called out from behind them. "Also, don't let me stop you. Please, do continue, ignoring me."

"Precautions? Wait, that voice. Mother?" Robin's head turned to the direction of the voice and found Morgana standing only a few paces away from them, a pleased grin on her face and interlocked fingers upon her stomach. Even further behind her and peaking his head out from the barn's entrance was Sharur, the Griffon being all too expressive with the feathers on his brows raised and his beak slightly agape. Together, they looked not like former members of royalty or noble creatures of war but a pair of gossipers seeing a goldmine before them instead.

"Good morning to you both," Shirou mumbled with her hands still on his cheeks. It was only then that the tactician remembered her current predicament and she swiftly let go, an act that made her mother tilt her head as she looked at her funny.

She attempted to ignore the heat creeping into her cheeks. Then, she decided she did not want to know just how long her mother (and Sharur) had been staring at them. Wait, is this why Shirou was grinning that much?

A brief look at the man in question and his blank face told her nothing. It was his eyes that gave away the truth though, and her mortification was all that stood between her and pinching his cheeks once more.

"Robin! Welcome back my sweet!" Thankfully, the former Heir to the Plegian Throne gave her an out with this simple greeting. It also saved the man from a quick vengeance. Oh, she would get it back one day, and his shame would give her satisfaction.

For now, he moved again and she was carried until they stood before her mother, whose teasing grin had mellowed out to a warm smile.

"It's…good to be home, mother." The pale tactician replied earnestly as she smiled back. Had her legs been stronger and her balance shot without anything to aid her, she would have leaped out of the redheaded champion's arms to embrace her parent. However, the fact that she was in his arms reminded her all too well of her current limits. I just need to be more patient. I have endured greater than this and I have made some progress.

With the slightest bit of hesitation, she asked the important question burgeoning from her thoughts and worried her most now. "Mother, my brother…is he here?"

Morgana shook her head, an act that filled her with relief and to some extent, disappointment. "Your brother left earlier with his friend. I asked Aigle to look after them."

"Is that so…" Robin trailed off as she pondered the fact that her brother had a friend. There was only one person here on the Farfront that she believed could be her brother's friend, Donnel. To think that in another life, she might have had friends much earlier, it seems that fate was not kind to her or her family.

Shaking her head free of that ill thought, she instead voiced her next question. "Then, can I stay here, mother?"

Morgana blinked and her mouth parted slightly, her eyes widening as if she was punched in the gut. This reaction was echoed by Sharur, the Griffon rapidly switching his gaze between them as his beak let out a confused "WARK?"

The Tactician felt small that moment, twiddling her fingers like she were but a small child once more, as she waited for her mother to respond to her query. However, the silence was getting a bit too long and so she added more. "It doesn't have to be so long. Maybe only for today or before my brother returns. We, Shirou and I, we're going to town— see what's there." She started off but slowly trailed off.

"Okay, I'm making this up as I go along but just so we're clear," She pointed at the Champion's face. "It was his idea to get me out of the dugout."

"…really? You're doing this." Shirou grumbled as he gave her a dry look but with her nerves shot, she opted to ignore his reaction and continue her line of thought.

"And I know that I've already been here before but that was when the Farfort had already suffered under occupation by this bandit named Roddick…" Robin suddenly paused as she remembered the bandit and his goons, alongside other similar people who surfaced in her mind. "...who shares features with three others now that I remember."

She shook her head again. She was getting sidetracked. Who knew that having two sets of memories would scatter her mind, this badly? Certainly not her. "Anyway, I just want to see, experience the peace—"

The Pale Tactician stopped as her mother gently placed a finger upon her lips, ending her tirade. "Robin, my daughter, you have always been welcome. You will always be welcome."

The words filled her ears and her mind repeated the words. An intangible weight that pressed on her chest finally lifted itself. With a slight hitch in her breath, a stinging sensation filled her eyes and she shuddered as she closed them to gather her thoughts before she opened them once more."Thank you, mother."

The former royal then patted her cheek and beamed at her. "Now, let's get you both inside. There are things I need you to see."

And with that said, they followed her mother as she led them towards the house. She opened the door and let them inside where a modest lounge greeted them. However, it was a bit different than what she remembered from her own time, either time.

Here, Robin saw the expected variety of books placed on almost every surface in controlled chaos. Tactics, strategy, politics, magic, and economy as well as some others for leisure. Unexpectedly, there were far fewer flowers and plants, and in place of them were several wooden figures crafted by hand. The older crafts were rougher in shape and texture, their maker yet unskilled. Nonetheless, the more of them she found, the smoother they eventually were as the simple figures became more detailed, the carvings of people and animals growing more lifelike.

Knowing that her mother had a penchant for design and construction, she reckoned that this must be the way that the former heir and her brother bonded. Still, she could not help but flinch at the sights. It was a bit startling to see these wood carvings in place of the plants that she carefully cultivated and maintained growing up.

This was yet another reminder that she was the child who died in this timeline and the effects it had on how the survivor was to be raised as well as that on her mother.

And now, she could not help but imagine a life where the two sights were reconciled as one. A life where she and her sibling grew up together as they should have been. It would have been more chaotic, with her vying to grow her plants and keep them on display while her brother clamored to have space for his projects. The childish arguments that would spring from it, the inevitable scolding that they would have received from their beloved parent, and the sheer fun they could have had creating a make-believe adventure from reconciling and using their interests together.

Heat and cold alike burst forth to meld in her scarred heart at that lost fantasy. This. This was what her father took from them. The Grimleal, Grima. The schisms between Plegia and the crusades of Ylisse. All of it led to this senseless tragedy.

How many timelines was this supposed to happen? How many more times will she or her brother live a life that will inevitably lead them to misery once they reach the end of their roles in the script of fate?

I can not let them win. I will not adhere to what fate has designed for us. I must tip the scales with my hands. No, the cycle ends here.

Her voice grew ever louder in her head, and in it, she could feel something start to fray, to unravel.

But it was then that the former heart saw it. A crude carving of a mother and her child embracing.

In the blink of an eye, a memory overwrote her perceived reality and she saw two children. Blue was their hair. The one she had who would grow to hate her and the other lost beyond time itself.

The fury and disdain building within subsided to a slow mist of sadness and longing as her scarred arms shook in the air, reaching for faces that were not there. My Little Light…and my Morgan.

The Pale Tactician swiftly dabbed a sleeve on her eyes lest her mother see the gathering moisture as the older albino hastily removed a few books off the settee while she grumbled under her breath about needing to reorganize the house once 'he' got home.

Regardless of her caution, her action was not unnoticed as she felt a gentle nudge from the man who carried her in his arms, prompting her to turn to him. She turned and saw his metallic eyes brim with concern as he quietly mouthed, "Are you okay?"

A part of Robin wanted to say yes, that he did not need to worry. However, that was quickly snuffed out as she sagged in his arms and shook her head no. There was no point or need whatsoever to hide it. She was hurting, badly, and she knew it.

In response, the strong limbs simply held her closer and she felt him press his cheek on the top of her head. The appendages were strong, either his remaining mortality or the dragon-forged metal. Yet time and time again, she saw and felt the kindness with which he used them to care for her, to help her achieve her goal.

That goal now was to move forward, be it in body or soul. So that she could make use of this new chance in life and prevent the senseless tragedy of their family. And if I do go through with it…to change Plegia from within as its ruler. She balled her fists together, the fire in her heart stoked again, but calmer and more precise.

I have to be strong. She unclenched her fists and reached out with her right arm to tenderly touch Shirou's face and gift him a grateful smile. Strong enough to be gentle. "Thank you, Shirou."

The white-streaked redhead lifted his head off her, his eyebrows raised together before he returned the gesture. "Anytime Robin. Always."

"Alright, I will be taking it from here, Up we go my little bird!"

"Whaaaaa–!"

Quick as a flash, Robin could not help but release an undignified squawk like a certain Griffon as she was taken from Shirou's arms by Morgana's own before she was then deposited on the now empty settee in short order. As she tried to get her breathing in order from the sudden movement, she saw the now mother of two simply sit beside her on the same cushioned surface, all while her face practically beamed.

"Mother, what was that for?!"

"I simply cannot wait to talk to you my sweet." The elder albino replied matter-of-factly before she continued it with a statement that made her gulp, more so when her mother turned her still-beaming gaze to the redhead and simply gestured with her now free hands to the nearby corridor that led deeper into the house. "Speaking of sweet, however. Mister Shirou, this will be between mother and daughter for now, though you will join us a bit later for something very important. Please, do go to the kitchen and leave us be. I insist."

Flabbergasted, the Champion of Naga could only spare her a brief look before he said, "I…uh. Yes, ma'am. Can I prepare something for the two of you while I'm there?"

At this, she and her mother looked at each other for the briefest of moments, the question and answer exchanged with both in agreement. "Yes."

The man could not help but snort as he shook his head, a grin replacing the surprise before he began to move. "I should have known. I'll be going then."

"Thank you, Shirou. Oh, and before I forget, you will find what you asked of me in a crate there."

The redhead paused, a new level of excitement she had not seen from him before made manifest in his eyes.

"You have them already? Thank you! I'll make some tea!" With a new pep in his step, Robin craned her neck as Shirou swiftly made his way to the kitchen and vanished before her eyes.

What was that about? She thought, wondering just what exactly would have made him so giddy before she turned back to her mother, who still sported a grin. Oh no.

"Now, while he is busy, let us talk. Shall we?"


Minutes had passed since the conversation between mother and daughter began, most of it teasing that she did not want to remember at the moment but cherished all the same. Her mother was laughing, happy, and though it was a bit at her expense and also that of Shirou, she allowed it all the same. This was what she needed to preserve and have more.

"Well, I suppose this was inevitable," Morgana said as she picked up a teacup from the tea tray that Shirou had just left for them before he returned to the kitchen, the aroma of steeped herbs and honey in the air as her mother stirred the drink for her. "But I am glad to know that you are happier Robin."

"Thank you, mother," Robin replied and accepted the teacup. She took a sip and let out a sigh of relief. "I still think of…other things but whatever measure of happiness I do get is precious. It is a difficult balance."

"Difficult yes," The former royal agreed as she took a sip as well. She let out a sigh, more drawn out than hers was. "And this rich coming from someone like me who had to sacrifice most of them but…do not let go of your bonds, your friends, your loved ones. The more of them you have, the more of them to catch you if you stumble and put you back on the right path. That very same principle can work for them in return."

The Pale Tactician nodded but remained silent as she simply stared at her mother. Immediately, the older woman took notice and let out another sigh. "I guess we have to take off the bandage quickly."

She kept quiet still as she waited for her parent to say it, the question that would light the fire.

Two pairs of royal purple eyes locked together. "Tell me, Robin. How did I die in your timeline? What happened and what must we do?"

We. Not I nor you. We. Whatever her decision was, her mother would support her. She could only nod numbly at the words. There were no words she could say to express her immense gratitude. None but the answer that her parent sought from her.

Now armed with the memories of her first life, Robin now knew the full context of what had happened then, and what was to come. And so began her tale.

It had all started with what should have been a simple subject to cover, the art of Dark Magic and the necessary defenses against it. Her mother had decided to teach her theoretical knowledge first, and frankly, there was nothing wrong with that since the bulk of the Grimleal Elite were well-trained sorcerers. It was when they had moved on to the practical application of the lessons on her 17th Birthday that they had unknowingly sprung her father's long-awaited trap.

They had decided to train on the Isle of the Outrealm Gate. With no one there, they could not disturb anyone nor could anyone disturb them. The perfect place to train in the Dark Arts, or so they thought then.

The Pale Tactician shivered, remembering the ghastly sensation of searing heat and deathly cold. The dichotomous feelings originated from the foul darkness that had blossomed within her soul then. Or rather, it was an inherent power that had awakened, the Power of the Fell Dragon.

The moment had been quick, but that brief passage of time was more than enough to incapacitate her for weeks. Weeks of agony as her body adjusted to the influx of Fell power. Weeks that all but forced her mother to take care of her rather than prepare for what it meant for their future.

For it was her awakening that had served as a glaring beacon to her father and with it, his response to send a small but elite army of the Grimleal aboard three of the fastest and stealthiest ships that he could muster out of Plegia.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Morgana had resolutely decided to fight to the bitter end as she drew the enemy to her location, all to protect her and spare the Farfort of the savagery that the Grimleal were capable of. All the while, giving Sharur the Griffon explicit instructions to escape with her immobile self should the worst ever come to pass.

The worst that did happen. An experience, a nightmare that she could not afford for her brother to go through, much less one that she wanted to experience yet again.

No, she would rather die. Or if she had to…

I would condemn my soul to the darkest depths of Hel to save my Family.

She had done it before to rid the world of the Fell Dragon for her Little Light's future. For her brother and mother's lives, she would do so again with a smile on her face.

Robin took a deep breath and paused her descent into her morose reflection to watch as her mother poured another cup of tea, seemingly calm. The subtle shake in her hands betrayed her, however, and so did the way that the porcelain creaked ominously. Furthermore, the calm guise of her face did not match the look in her purple eyes.

That and the fact that a blaze of Ignis had formed over her head like a crown of angry burning thorns. The books around them begin to flip open rapidly like unsettled cicadas. Glowing circles began to form from the magical tomes scattered about as the sparks of her mother's now turbulent magical energy reached out for them like invisible hands, itching to unleash their full might at that moment.

"Robin my dear, do kindly remind me to rip your father apart limb to limb so he can't run away from us." The words were spoken plainly yet carried within it was the frigid promise of a very livid Morgana.

"I promise you that I will, mother. Validar will never escape us or his crimes." Robin placed her empty teacup on the tray and reached for her mother's hands. The older woman released the abused teaware and clasped their hands together as her crown of Ignis dissipated. "For all of us who suffered by their design, we will be avenged."

Morgana nodded at her promise, a ghost of a smile as she thought of something. Whatever it was, she was sure that her 'father' would not like it. And she counted on that to happen. "So, what now my daughter?"

The Pale Tactician squeezed the hands that grasped hers, which caused the former heir to raise an eyebrow at her. "Well, to start with, I need to get stronger first."

At her words, the Former Heir of Plegia's lips widened. Her eyes mirrored the action before they closed shut. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought the older woman was just shocked.

But no, that was not the case as a sound began to escape Morgana's open lips which had now stretched to a grin. The sound of laughter. It was not to mock though as her eyes reopened to reveal the proud glint bared within the purple orbs. "You are already on the right track, my daughter. Shirou has done wonders for you. And of course, you will always have me."

Robin smiled back before she sighed deeply, the weight of what she was about to say was heavy but all too necessary. If she wanted the future she hoped for and envisioned to happen, there was but one path to ensure that it would exist. "Mother, I have a plan and I need your permission."

"...do tell." With those words as permission, the Pale Tactician spoke, nay, declared her goal.

"For the sake of all our futures, to end the threat of the Grimleal and Grima, Plegia will be mine."

As she said those words, the fire in her core lit up yet again, a fire that grew as the thoughts in her head took form out of her mouth.

"I will finish what our lineage of rebels had started. You and my brother descend from High Queen Euphemia the Gentle and her King-Consort, Sir Suzaku of Chonsin." The eyes of said descendant dilated upon the revelation of her deduction, but what she said next further shocked the woman. "And I, who descend from Emperor Lelouch and his Knight-Queen, Kallen of Valm in my timeline."

"No…" Morgana trailed off, her mind connecting the dots as she took in the information. "Then the reason why you were the child who lived in the other timeline, while your brother was the one to live here is because…there is a precedent for rebellion."

"Yes. No matter who survived, the blood of the Rebel Heir of Plegia runs through our veins. The true blood of Plegia runs through our veins." Robin replied before she bowed her head and kissed her mother's hands in filial piety. "That is why I must ask you now. For this cycle to end, for our fates to be cut free from this wicked design..."

The Former Queen met the eyes of a Once-and-Future Queen. "Permit me to conquer Plegia!"

Deep breaths were taken before the reply came and the voice that spoke was not her mother. With a face carved of stone and eyes of an abyss, whom she faced now was Princess Morgana of House Daraen. "Then show me your Fire, Future Empress."

At the command and a burst of magic, the leather satchel still by her side was opened, and out came the red tome she was gifted. Bound in leather and carrying with it the scent of smoke and ash, the Fire Tome awaited her command. Her hands, scarred but growing in strength and conviction, moved. Her left grasped it while her right was raised to the fireplace before them, unlit yet filled with potential. This was her right, and she had something to prove. Be it her mother, or herself.

To change Plegia from within! The thought was the spark that ignited her magic, the vast sea contained within her churning in elation after a long time of stillness. It was larger than she could ever imagine, even at her peak she could not imagine such power. Instincts and experiences that had nearly been forgotten compensated and wrestled the power inside. She controlled the power, never again would she allow it to control her. Soon, it trickled in a magic circle of red that formed before the outstretched hand. "Fire."

A bright red burst of flames erupted from the glyph like a roar of triumph. The blast of conflagrations hit the logs with ease and sent embers flying. Had it been anyone else, the worry of causing a house fire would have had them hesitate to cast such a spell.

But there was no room for hesitation. Robin could not fear what could happen. Just like a flame, this daunting path would hurt people. Plegian, Ylissean, Feroxi, Valmese, and many more. Countless of them, be they guilty or innocent, could be burned in her path. It would burn her as her predecessors had been, perhaps even more than it did them. Pain would await her with welcome arms and become her companion on this path.

But… A gust of verdant wind smothered the embers before they could even get close to ignite anything flammable and tamed the errant blaze in the fireplace. The back of a familiar figure blocked the chips of wood that would have hit her and shattered on his reinforced skin and clothes, his comforting shadow granting her reprieve from the light.

I don't have to do this alone. The Pale Tactician would need allies and two of them were already with her. I am not alone.

Her mother embraced her and kissed her on the cheek briefly, her voice proud and loving. "Claim your birthright. Conquer their hearts. Show them who you are, my Bright Fame."

Steel rang out as Shirou kneeled before her, the amber and steel gaze he gave her was both a solemn promise and a silent question. In his mortal hand was the sword her mother bequeathed to him, its point at the ground. The silvery steel that was his left arm twitched a bit as if waiting for her to act, to recognize what he had done, what he was offering.

Heart thundering and blood singing, the Empress-to-be raised her right hand, the Mark of the Fell Dragon on it faded and dormant. She had yet to have a royal sigil to call her own. And though parts of her warred within herself, she could see he had already made his choice. He did not even have to say it, this act had told her plenty. Still, she wanted to hear it in his own words.

"Sir Shirou, this oath, do you accept it?" She asked solemnly. Do you accept me?

"Robin, I accept this oath." The Knight-to-be reached ever so gently and took hold of her offered hand in his metal hand, the metal warm and comforting. Then he gave her that same smile that enticed and calmed her, as ethereal as the one engraved in her mind. "My Empress."

His lips kissed the back of her hand chastely, and the brief sensation alone was like a burst of heat to her system. A heat now made better or worse by her earlier realizations about Shirou. The man who had just become her new Knight.

It didn't matter that her mother could see this and that she could be teased for this spectacle between them.

It didn't matter that her heart tore itself apart as her mind still echoed the past, only to stubbornly mend itself as she snapped to the present.

No, she needed to focus. A focus she trained on the burning brightness in the fireplace. For a brief moment, she imagined a bird rising from the embers and ashes, its brilliant wings spread wide.

The path to the future would be nebulous. The advantages she may have could be on a time limit or outright inapplicable. Yet, once again. No matter how long it took, no matter the obstacles she would face.

She would not be alone.

And together, they would triumph.

I, Robin Daraen, would tip the scales in my favor.


My responses to the reviews (Phantoms in the Sparks and KnF Outro):

NavyZero8745: Thank you! As for Kanshou and Bakuya, the time of reckoning will come.

Dimihd: Thanks! I hope you liked this chapter as well.

davidomega59: Thanks for the review and can't help the length hahaha. As for that, all I can say is stay tuned!

A Whimsical Seishin: It was indeed all part of my plan and I have more muhahaha! Thank you for reading and I hope you like the chapter.

Dasgun: Thank you.

Pathreader: Yes they are. Yep, they're up to no good. And for the last one, who knows? Thank you for reading!

Guest (Jan. 27, 2024): Hahahaha, I hope you liked the chapter.

Hashirama 1710: Thank you! I hope you loved this one as well.


Author's Notes:

Hey there everyone! Will here! As I've said in the message before the chapter, FF currently has email alerts down (again) so do follow me on either AO3 or SpaceBattles. You may also join my server, where I and the cover artist of KnF have posted art for the story.

Anyway, please do tell me what you thought of this chapter in a review. Love it or Hate it, do tell me for the improvement of the story. I hope I was able to entertain you all.

Till next time and hopefully soon, this is Will S. LaVi.