Robin cursed himself for a fool with each step up the Mila Tree's great stairway. It had been easier the previous morning, when he'd had the boisterous rabble of the other Shepherds to distract him. He still needed to thank Kellum for walking silently next to him the entire way, blocking out much of the dizzying drop with his sizable frame. And on the way down, he'd had exhaustion and arguing with Lucina to keep his mind occupied.
He'd thought to ask her to accompany him again. Some sort of understanding had passed between her and Say'ri. Perhaps, if the two women talked again, they might be able to get Say'ri to open back up, or, at least, set her on the first steps to some kind of recovery. However, after Lucina's middle-of-the-night epiphany, Robin had thought better of seeking her out. He was, no doubt, the last person she'd want to speak to at the moment.
When he was within sight of the top, a breeze picked up. Even as colossal as the Tree was, it was still subject to the whims of the wind. The entire trunk creaked and flexed under his feet. On a normal stairway, he might have grabbed for a railing. Here, however, it seemed that whoever had carved these steps centuries ago had neglected the necessity for something so simple, yet comforting.
Robin sat down hard, pushing himself as close to the center of the trunk as he could get, pointedly not looking out at forest far below. His pulse quickened alongside his breathing as the wind tugged mercilessly at his hair and shirt. He wished he had brought his coat—blasphemy be damned. The lack of its familiar weight on his shoulders only added to his anxiety. He knew his long streak of avoiding those awful nightmares would be broken when next he slept.
When the wind dropped to a less terrible pace—it never really calmed completely this high up—he heard footsteps and a familiar voice behind him. "You need not have come so far, Robin. As Lady Tiki said, Say'ri's condition is not one that will go away overnight."
Libra put a reassuring hand on Robin's shoulder, carefully guiding him up the rest of the way to the Pinnacle. Once there, Robin took several steps off of the newly repaired wooden path and onto the incongruous grassy slope that had formed in the nexus of the Mila Tree's boughs. He sprawled down on his back, letting the individual blades tickle his ears and neck. You couldn't entirely convince yourself that you were on solid ground—there was a gentle swaying from the wind, like the rolling of a ship, even here—but it was enough to steady his breathing and calm his racing heart.
Robin looked up to where Libra was watching him patiently. "Thank you." He pushed himself up to a sitting position. "But as I said, I'd be back to check on her in the morning. I don't mean any disrespect to Lady Tiki, truly, but I don't know her. You saw what happened to Say'ri. You can't just ask me to accept based on… well, faith that she's in better hands up here than down with the other Shepherds."
Despite his words, a flash of disapproval crossed Libra's face. "I have been here all night, too. I personally saw to the wounds to Princess Say'ri's hands, and have been monitoring her condition closely. I am a healer, Robin. Do you not trust me to do only that which I think is best for a person? If I thought that being here was in anyway harmful to her health, both physical or mental, and regardless of my personal faith in Lady Tiki, I would have brought her down immediately."
Robin groaned inwardly as he got to his feet, dusting off the back of his shirt and trousers. "I am not questioning your commitment to Say'ri's welfare. It's just… do you remember when Exalt Emmeryn died? What that did to Chrom? He shut himself away from everyone, and the isolation was… I don't know, poisoning him. You and I couldn't even get through the door. It took Lissa and Sumia: his sister and his betrothed, to get through to him; the two people who knew him most in the entire world.
"As far as I know, Say'ri and the Voice have met, what, three times before? And each of them only briefly during one of the princess's pilgrimages. I'm one of Chrom's closest friends, and I couldn't do anything for him when he… experienced something similar. I don't see how Lady Tiki—a stranger—can do more for Say'ri than we can."
Libra didn't budge. "I don't believe this is the same as what happened to Chrom. That was a personal tragedy. This, while still personal, is spiritual as well. Who better to speak to the princess about such matters than one of the very highest authorities of her faith?
"Back in the Halidom, I had many a practitioner come to me with their problems. I knew many of them by name and face, but no more than that. Sometimes, speaking to someone who you do not know, who will not judge you as a family member or friend might, is what a grieving person needs."
Robin ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He wasn't doing a very good job of explaining himself. But how could anyone properly convey this level of helplessness? He had seen friends injured before, but this? He shivered, remembering the look in Chrom's eyes when the prince had woken up in the Ylisstol hospital after his duel with General Mustafa.
"Please," he implored. "I'm not a healer, but, to me, it looked like Princess Say'ri almost killed herself yesterday. I just want to speak with her."
A new voice quieted Libra's ready response. A woman observed their dispute from the mouth of a large tent set up where the Pinnacle's shrine used to stand. Lady Tiki stood in her flowing red robes, a hood pulled low to cover her eyes and a simple rectangular wooden charm around her neck.
She spoke softly, but with an authority that seemed almost supernatural. "You will not speak to Lady Say'ri at the moment." Before Robin could protest, the Voice's lips curved into an understanding smile. "Not because I wish to keep you from her, but because, right now, she is fast asleep."
She turned to Libra and, almost like a parent scolding a child, said, "Sir Libra, after all of your effort to keep the princess's strength up, I noticed that you haven't eaten anything yourself. I know the problem isn't my cooking. Would you please go have breakfast and watch over your patient? I will speak to this young man."
The priest bowed to the Voice, shot Robin a 'don't do anything to offend the daughter of a divinity' look and ducked into the tent. Lady Tiki held out a hand, gesturing that he follow her as she moved off to a cracked stone platform close by. On it were several stretches of rough but sturdily made planters, mostly empty save for a layer of moist earth.
The Voice nodded to where a handful of tall plants grew from one of the beds, tied to a broken spear haft for support. "That boy, Donnel's, handiwork. He even managed to rescue some of my tomatoes. Though, for the life of me, I don't know how he did it." She turned to face him. "Master Tactician, I would never tell someone how to live, but perhaps questioning a healer's competence in their profession, especially if there is a chance that healer will need to turn his staff to you one day, isn't the road to a long life."
Robin winced. "I was hoping I wasn't sounding as… accusatory as I thought I might be." He sighed. "I was worried I'd owe Libra an apology before the day was over. You as well, Lady Tiki. I didn't mean to imply that either of you were harming Princess Say'ri in any way. It's only… I don't know how to explain my thoughts on something this… What I mean to say is, something so—"
"One of your comrades just tried to work herself to death and you don't know what the next steps are?" the Voice supplied.
Robin blinked at her frankness. "Erm, yes, Lady."
"Did you ever consider that what comes next has nothing to do with you?"
He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I have to be able to do something. I didn't think I'd be able to come up here and cure Say'ri with a wave of my hand, but there has to be something. Something small, not the whole solution, but a piece of it, somewhere to start. You can't just expect me to shrug my shoulders and turn my back on a friend because 'maybe there's nothing I can do for her.' And I'm not the only Shepherd who feels that way."
Lady Tiki smiled. "That is quite a self centered answer. But, when it comes to caring for others, there's always a tiny glimmer of selfishness." Then she sighed as well. "And I will turn them away the same way I will turn you away. Believe it or not, that young woman's biggest problem right now is her own embarrassment."
She saw his raised eyebrow and continued. "Your coalition of nations has been in Valm long enough to know how important self discipline is to the Chon'sin people. Imagine how she must feel after losing control of herself like that in front of so many people she respects.
"Yes, she is a very troubled woman, but such states of mind come and go like storms at sea. And when bad weather clears, there are always waves to deal with. Right now, all I wish for her to do is find calm so that we may truly discuss what happened yesterday. I don't need the Shepherds coming up here and making her think she needs to put on the mask of the ever-poised Chon'sin Princess. You will all have a role to play in her recovery, but not right now. So yes, I am asking you to turn your back—for a time—so that she might get the privacy she needs."
Robin started pacing back and forth along the fledgling garden. "Are you saying that we could actually harm her?"
The Voice's hood turned slightly to follow his movements. He'd been worried that he might have offended her—like he'd done to so many others before—by asking too many questions. Instead, her smile grew a degree brighter as she spoke.
"'Harm' might be too strong of a word. At worst, I believe that if you were to take her down to be with the other Shepherds, it would give her an excuse to avoid confronting what has happened to her."
"And if we helped her confront it ourselves?" he asked. "Lucina, the woman who rescued you, said something to her yesterday. It seemed to… wake Say'ri up."
Lady Tiki raised a hand and tapped her lips thoughtfully with a finger. "Sir Libra mentioned that to me, though he didn't hear the entire conversation."
Robin stopped pacing and opened his mouth to explain, then shut it. He was fairly certain that Lucina hadn't wanted him to hear what she had told Say'ri. The matter was personal.
Perhaps sensing his sudden apprehension, the Voice held up a hand to forestall him. "No need to go into details. I only ask because you are right, if there are others among the Shepherds who can understand Lady Say'ri's situation, it might be good for both of them to speak of it together. But please, not just yet."
Robin sighed and made to stuff his hands in the pockets of his coat, forgetting for a moment that he wasn't wearing it. "The main army is still working to pacify the last Valmese holdouts in Rosanne. Then, we need to prepare for Walhart's counter attack and the push down into Chon'sin. That'll give you maybe a score of days.
"I don't think Princess Say'ri would want to remain in your care while we fight for her homeland. And we'll post a garrison to protect the Mila Tree, but if the Empire wants this place back, there isn't much we can do to stop them. Do you think you'd have enough time to do what you can for her?"
The Voice put her hands on her hips as her hood tilted up and down, looking him over. Robin got the impression that he was being reevaluated.
"Sir Libra told me that you were very protective of the Shepherds. I was worried. While admirable, such loyalty has a way of blinding people to the possibility of outside solutions. I'm happy to say that I misjudged you, Master Tactician. I thought we'd be all day arguing over the princess."
She turned away from him then. Pulling down her hood so she could better massage the back of her neck, the Voice exposed the long emerald hair and pointed ears that were hallmarks of her species. She let out a cavernous yawn, but didn't look back to face him as she continued. "For today, keep the others away. I'd ask that you only send Nowi with some fresh clothes for Say'ri. Tomorrow morning, I will come down personally to speak with you further about her condition. Is that a worthy compromise?"
Robin thought it over. "So long as Libra is able to remain here, then yes."
"Naturally. Say'ri still needs the ministrations of a healer, and I so rarely get to speak with reasonable priests."
Robin nodded and turned to leave, already gathering his nerves for the long climb down. Realizing that the Voice still hadn't looked at him since removing her hood, he said over his shoulder, "Then I'll be going. And again, sorry if I have cause you any trouble."
Lady Tiki stretched and began pulling her unruly hair back into a ponytail, tying it off with a thin red cord. She leaned forward to inspect the repotted tomato plants Donnel had worked so hard to restore. "There is no need to go traipsing back down those steps just yet. And you needn't apologize, Master Tactician. As I said, Lady Say'ri is sleeping. Stay awhile and keep me company. You look like spending some time in a place less… acutely vertical might do you some good."
Robin cast a glance out to where the grass of the Pinnacle dropped away into thin air. He quickly turned back to the little garden. "I suppose Libra would be furious with me for turning down the Voice of Naga. But please, you don't need to call me 'Master Tactician.' Every time someone does I feel like I'm in trouble. My name is Robin."
The Voice let out a humming laugh. "Robin, excellent. An easy name to remember, since you are not the first Robin I've had the pleasure to be acquainted with, nor the first one who was a tactician. And you may call me Tiki. If you believe you must call me 'Lady Tiki' than I'd appreciate it if you only did so behind my back."
Robin blinked. "I'll be sure to do that. Have you really met someone else with my name? I didn't think it was uncommon, but Chrom and the others keep telling me I'm the only person they've met who has it. Where was this other Robin from?"
Still making a point not to turn around, Tiki's hand went to her face. Perhaps she was tapping her lip in thought again. "They were from Archanea, like you are. Let me see… An old country to the west of where Ylisse is now. I suppose that's been northern Plegia for a while.
"And you aren't entirely wrong, it was a fairly common name about two-hundred years ago. I know this might sound silly coming from me, but I think your name is a bit old fashioned at this point."
Robin sighed, but couldn't help chuckling a little. He could ask Miriel about the history of the area, but he doubted it would provide anything substantial about his own origins. "Did your Robin ever figure out the secret to being a good tactician and managing to get a good night's sleep?There's some advice I wouldn't mind hearing from a predecessor, even if his battlefield tactics might be a little outdated by now."
Tiki hummed another laugh. "She wouldn't have been much help in that regard, I'm afraid. Always working on some problem or another long after the sun had set, that one. Was never good at taking care of herself."
She? Robin thought, then shook himself. It wasn't like he was in any position to judge a name, even if it was his own. He didn't even know who had given him the name, let alone its possibly gendered origins.
Hoping his silence hadn't betrayed his train of thought, he quickly responded. "I guess I can take some solace that at least I'm in good company. What happened to her, if you don't mind me asking?"
Tiki straighten up from her study of the tomatoes, moving down the planters to prod at the fresh earth that filled the remaining. She still avoided turning so he could see her entire face, but he caught the glimpse of a sad smile at the corner of her lips.
"Her soul is with my mother now, as they all are. She never did settle down or marry. She'd always tell me that it didn't feel right. Once she could no longer fight on the battlefield, she became a teacher." She chuckled fondly. "She didn't like me calling her 'Master Tactician' either. Although, she would always argue that it was because someone with my experiences shouldn't have to call anyone 'master' of anything."
Robin smiled. "The thought had crossed my mind. Chrom told me that you personally knew his ancestor, the Hero-King. I imagine human mastery must seem quaint to you."
"Now you're beginning to sound like my Robin, too. Tell me, how long do you think it takes to become a master of something?"
He shrugged. "Most people would say it takes a lifetime. I certainly don't think I'll ever run out of things to learn."
Tiki scooped up a small ceramic watering can with a broken spout from behind the planters and returned to the tomatoes. "And how old are you? Twenty-five, Twenty-six?"
"In that regard, Lad… erm, Tiki, your guess is as good as mine."
She poured a carefully measured stream of water onto the roots of one of the plants, then did the same to another. Then she tilted her head quizzically and returned to the first plant, giving it a second generous splash. "Ahh, yes, Nowi mentioned that one of the Shepherds suffered from amnesia. An interesting affliction, if you don't mind me saying."
Robin sighed. "You aren't the first to say so. Most days, I find not knowing my past more of an inconvenience than an interest."
Tiki hummed in amusement. "We certainly make a pair, don't we. One with too many memories, one with not enough. But let's say that you are right, a human takes a lifetime to master a skill or craft—although, I don't think it takes nearly so long. And let's be generous and say that the average human lives seventy-five years. Do you know how old I am?"
It was Robin's turn to chuckle. "I've been told it isn't very gentlemanly to speculate on someone else's age."
"Hmm, yes, of course, how could I forget about propriety. Well, to avoid any damage to your chivalry, I'll just say I've lived roughly forty-six human lifetimes. That's forty-six things that I could be a true master at. A substantial number for mortals, but not so many in the grand scheme of things, I'd argue."
She huffed and swatted gently at one of the tomato plants. "I've worked hard recently to perfect my cooking," she continued as she watched the leaves bounce. "But I can't figure out these cursed little plants. How much water is too much? Are they getting too much light? Forty-six lifetimes and I still can't grow a proper garden. The Valmese did me a favor, I would have most likely torn up the old one anyways."
"That…" Robin cleared his throat, trying not to let his astonishment at the implications of the math Tiki had so casually stated show. He failed. "You… umm…"
"Don't look my age?" Tiki said cheerfully. "I've been told many time that that phrase is a compliment among humans. I'm sure you can imagine why it doesn't make sense to Manaketes."
She let out another enormous yawn. "Now, do forgive my bluntness—I hate to be a rude host—but, like Princess Say'ri, I also think I need some sleep. I can walk you back down to your camp, if you'd like."
Robin shook himself. "No, Lady. That won't be necessary." He struggled with the fountain of questions he was suddenly desperate to ask. There was still the matter of what Lucina had seen Tiki do during the battle, but he didn't want to outstay his welcome. His curiosity let slip just once. "Before I go, might I ask one thing? Why do you cover your face?"
In answer, the Voice turned to look him in the eyes.
Robin flinched back involuntarily.
For all her age, Tiki was young. If she were a human, she might have been of an age with Miriel and Vaike, only a decade or so older than what Robin saw himself as. The skin along her forehead and around her eyes had only the faintest beginning of lines. At a glance, this was a woman still in the prime of her youth. Only her eyes spoke the truth.
Robin had looked into the eyes of men and animals and Risen and Taguel, and been able to understand them in one way or another. In Tiki's, he saw the depth of millennia. He saw a perspective he couldn't hope to understand. He saw the weight of each and every lifetime that she had so casually chatted about.
He looked away, a part of his mind desperately pushing him to flee from this being. Would Nowi someday have that same look? "Sorry, Lady," he mumbled. "It was rude of me to ask."
He felt her hand on his shoulder. She had pulled her hood back up and over to cover those eyes. Only her mouth was visible again, and it bore a sympathetic smile.
"I've always appreciated a person who wasn't afraid to ask questions," she said. "Just as long as they are aware that not all answers are entirely pleasant. No need to apologize, Robin. Unfortunately, I have this effect on all humans to some degree. Your reaction wasn't unexpected.
"I'm also quite sure you wish to be anywhere else at this moment, and please, don't feel bad about those thoughts later. Have a safe walk back down to your camp, and don't forget about Say'ri's clothes. I'll speak with you again tomorrow."
With that, she walked away back to her tent. Yawning, she gave the tomato plants an annoyed flick as she passed.
Still shaken, Robin turned to gaze at the staircase back down. Suddenly, it didn't seem so high as before.