Silence. Sweet beautiful silence. The long night of horrors, played in repeat, had finally stopped. I couldn't open my eyes, it felt like I had ran from one country to the other. I could feel the sun on my face, but I was too tired to rise. From the one glance I managed, I found myself in some field, bordering two biomes, somewhere off the beaten path. Shortly after that, I returned to my rest, and a thankfully dreamless sleep.
"Come oooon, let's hurry!" the girl shouted as she sped down the dirt road.
"S-Slow down, hey!" Her older brother shouted. "What if there's more Bandits? At least stick close to us two!"
The girl stopped and used her momentum to spin on her heel to face her two companions. "But you said the end of this road the patrol would be over."
"Yes, I did..."
"So I wanna get it done with as soon as possible!" She shouted as she picked up her pace again. "If one of us gets there, its done right? And we can start marching home!"
"You were the one complaining about marching the whole time! And- augh, she's gone." Her brother sighed.
"Even the weary may dash when the end is in sight." His companion remarked, more from observation than admiration. The young man nodded his head. This was his sister's first true patrol. She had begged him and begged him for months after she concluded her first year of training before he finally told her yes. He wished she would've waited like he asked. Perhaps then he could've avoided the complaining from all the marching they'd done, day in day out. She insisted on wearing the uniform given to her class, which therefore made it impossible to ride alongside their companion; a knight on horseback.
Even now with her second wind he couldn't help but feel annoyed, but nearly had a start when he heard a yelp. He looked ahead just in time to see his sister jump from the road to the grass below, catch her foot on something, and tumble over into a heap. Her hoop skirt lay awkwardly on its side as the rest of her body struggled up from the ground.
Immediately the two dashed forward. "What happened, what did you hit that made you fall like that?!" Her brother was obviously excited for her safety.
The girl looked up at her brother, eyes wide. "It's a person!" she exclaimed. The three stopped and made a circle.
There in the grass lay a young man in ragged clothes, and even more worn-black cloak, many times too big for his body. He lay there in the grass, steadily breathing. The sister tugged at her brother's arm, and looked at him with pleading eyes.
He had hardly been resting for what seemed like a few minutes when he heard voices, breaking his drowse and putting a pit in his stomach. Instantly his mind calculated; one... two... three people approaching over him. Two on foot, one on horseback. He could hear the rustling of cloth and leather from the first two, and the clinking of armor from the third along with the heavy breathing of a horse.
At some point, the noise died away, replaced by a gentle thumping in the distance. He assumed the party must have passed him on and willed his breath to slow. And then he heard the excited yelp of a little girl above him.
And then impact.
He stifled a grunt of pain as something collided with the side of his chest. He gripped his hands and his legs tossed with pain, but he kept his position. He heard more movement and voices, and soon realized that the three from earlier now stood above him silence, as he lay prone on the ground. He willed his breathing to slow once more.
"Chrom..." the first voice said, obviously female. "We have to do something..."
Pause. The three onlookers did nothing. They didn't seem to be armed...? At the very least nobody was drawing a weapon on him. A second voice let out a sigh.
"Well then, what do you propose we do?" the second voice asked.
"I... I don't know!" the first one sounded flustered. "But..."
The figure groaned as he opened his eyes, silencing the two's conversation. Light flooded his vision, but he quickly made out two of his onlookers. One a young girl, possibly a cleric judging by her clothes. The other a young man, dark haired, wearing a strange sort of leather armor and a silver sword sheathed at his side. The two looked relieved to see him come to. He darted his eyes back and forth warily between the two, unsure of what to do.
"I see you're finally awake." The young man said as stepped closer and leaned down.
"Hey there..." the girl added shyly. He wasn't sure what to say to either of them. He regarded them carefully. One had apparently kicked him in the side, whether they meant to or not. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a heavily armored figure looking on.
"There are better places to take a nap then on the ground you know... here, give me your hand." The dark-haired man reached out his hand. With brief hesitation, the figure reached out his own bare hand and grasped it. He had a start at the strange emblem marked onto the back of his palm, but his eyes were quickly drawn away as he was hefted to a standing position. The man was remarkably strong.
The weariness persisted, but it wasn't as bad as before. The figure found his bearings quickly and was able to to step back and observe the small party before him. The young girl; adolescent, bright yellow hair, wearing yellow with white ribbons, obviously nobility of some sort. The young man; dark haired, a mismatch of silver and dyed blue leather armor adorning his figure with a curious mark on his shoulder that made the figure's mind swim. The armored figure; a Great Knight in custom sky-blue armor, wearing an obscuring helmet. The figure cast his eyes down. He noticed his own mark on the back of his hand.
"You all right?" the young man asked carefully, taking a step forward. The figure nodded and looked gratefully to him.
"I am. Thank you Chrom..." a small ripple of surprise swept them. The knight's aloofness took an air of suspicion as he guided his horse nearer.
"Ah..." the young man tried to not look startled. No doubt his own suspicions were forming. "So then you know who I am?" he ventured.
"No, actually I..." the figure cast a wary glance as the knight hovered over the two of them. He finally noticed the long, polished silver lance strapped to the knight's back. The knight glared at him from his sightless visor. He looked back at the young man and his mark. Of course this was Chrom, the mark on his shoulder said it all! But where had he seen him before? "It just came to me I guess."
If Chrom wasn't convinced, he didn't show it. "...Curious." Chrom looked to his two companions and gestured forwards. "Come, let's walk. You in front. Let's get someplace where we can rest and assess the situation."
The girl gave an obvious groan of disappointment. Chrom stepped aside and gestured the figure forward. He hesitated. He quickly understood the tactics at play here, he certainly didn't start the encounter with the most trustworthy impression. Have the mysterious figure march in front; if he's dangerous, he'd have to turn on all three of them to pose a threat. But he wasn't a threat... was he? With no other option sans turning around and leaving for no reason, he did as he was told.
He started towards Chrom. Instead of falling behind him like he assumed, Chrom continued in step and walked with him, as if they were companions. This seemed confusing until he heard the armor clinking and the horse trotting behind him. Of course. Chrom could give him the benefit of the doubt and treat him fairly in person, while having the powerful knight pursue at a short distance behind in the chance that something did go wrong. Clever.
"Are you a traveler, or do you live someplace nearby?" A small town as visible on the horizon as the sun crawled into the middle of the sky. The figure made note of the heavy tome fasted in a harness to his belt beneath his own ragged, stitched cloak, and the dull sword tied to his belt length-wise on his belt. Next to these he had found a pair of gloves that he quickly put on, to hide the mark on his hand. Hopefully the knight behind him did not notice.
Dialogue had been fleeting in the past hour, but now it seemed Chrom was ready to start asking him the serious questions.
"N-no, I don't think so anyway," the figure replied carefully. "I definitely don't live nearby."
"Alright then. You a mage? I noticed your tome earlier."
"I-I... that's one way to put it." He didn't know if mages in the area used swords, and in the off chance his companions hadn't noticed his own yet, he decided not to add any weapons to his repertoire. There was a brief silence.
"Tell me then what your name is? What brings you here?"
"My name is... it's..." the figure never finished his sentence. He stared blankly ahead as he realized it. He had no name, no home, no trade, or any idea how he got here. Those dreams from earlier, it were as if those were all he had known all his life, and now he awoke suddenly in a world where had control over his actions. If he could call this critical lack of self-information control. The figure from his dream called him a name! What was it...
"You don't know your own name?" Chrom asked in disbelief.
"I'm not sure if..." the figure started surveying his surroundings and made note of the open fields and muddy path. He searched for landmarks and found none, sans the town ahead, which he didn't recognize. He cast his glance westward and saw the forest bordering the plains gradually fade away into rocks and dirt. A border between countries perhaps? Maybe he was travelling before? "Where exactly am I?"
The girl, who had only been watching and listening intently until now, rose her voice in excitement. "I've heard of this before!" she exclaimed. She turned between her two companions. "He can't remember anything! I read about it when I studying! It's called amnesia!"
Finally the knight make a sound. A low, pretentious huff of disapproval sounded from behind the three as he trotted behind them still. "It's called a load of Pegasus dirt, milady," he said gruffly. The girl looked up at the knight indignantly as he turned ahead to the figure. "You expect any of us to believe that you can remember milord's name and not your own?"
"I-It's the truth!" the figure nearly shouted, and instantly regretted it. This was not the time to be excited. The knight's empty gaze hardened. A short silence followed as their march ground to a halt. The young man turned to look back at his knight.
"...What if it IS true, Frederick?" Chrom asked slowly. "We certainly can't leave him out here, alone and confused. What sort of Shepherds would we be?"
Shepherds? Sheep? Had he encountered an entourage of well-armed farmers?
The knight made another snort. "All the same, Milord, I must emphasize caution. 'Twould not do to let a wolf in our flock." Chrom responded with exasperation.
"Right then- we'll take him to the town and sort it out there."
"Well, wait!" the figure added. "Do I have a say in this?" He wasn't well rested to begin with, and now he was marching in tow with this small group, being regarded as a threat. Right now what he wanted most was to break away peacefully and not bother anyone with his strange predicament.
"Peace, friend." Chrom sounded reassuring. "I promise we'll hear all you have to say back in town. Now come." Great. And so the march continued. The girl shared his grief and let out another groan.
The sun rose higher still and was beginning to enter its descent to the horizon.
"What will you do to me then?" The figure had continued in miserable silence, but finally decided to speak. The two at his side looked at him. "Am I your prisoner?"
Chrom let out a hearty laugh. "Hah! You'll be free to go once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse."
"Is that where we are?" the figure surveyed his surroundings once more. "Ylisse?" The knight behind him let out a humorless laugh.
"He's never heard of the halidom? Somebody pay the actor! He plays quite the fool." The figure's face flushed with indignation, and cast a hopeless look at the faceless suit of armor pursuing them. "The furrowed brow is especially convincing," the knight added.
"Frederick, please!" Chrom's patience was waning. He briskly turned back to the figure. "Yes, this land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. Our ruler, Lady Emmeryn, is called the Exalt." Chrom pointed to the north-west. "Further north where it's cold is Ragna Ferox, they cover more territory but they're not as densely populated..." He then pointed to the west. "And to the west, past the trees and rocks is Plegia, our neighbors. We both worship dragons, and something about that caused friction in the past, but we're friends now. Officially, anyway..."
The figure appreciated Chrom's efforts, but he couldn't help but feel like a charity case. Perhaps this Chrom had something to prove and was dying to be a good Samaritan. "And on that note..." Chrom continued as they stopped the march once more. "I suppose proper introductions are in order."
He reached out his hand and clasped the figure's with an iron grip as he shook it. "I am Chrom... though is suppose you already knew that." He glanced back at the girl, who had been smiling at the two of them this whole time. "And the delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."
The girl's smile faded as she puffed her cheeks and threw down her hands. "I am NOT delicate!" she protested. She let out a strong HMPH and looked back at their new companion. "Ignore him, please. He's a bit THICK," she said this as she landed a blow from her heel on her brother's calf, to no effect. "You're lucky though that I was the one who tripped over you. Brigands would've made for a much ruder awakening than us Shepherds, I guarantee it... Sorry for that by the way. Tripping on you I mean."
"Shepherds..." The figure repeated the word. It sounded oddly familiar. "You... tend sheep? in full armor?" Chrom's impatience melted away with a laugh.
"It's a dangerous job. Just ask Frederick the Wary here." He gestured behind them to the Knight.
"A title I wear with pride," the Knight asserted. "Gods forbid one of us keeps the appropriate level of caution around here." His helmet turned back towards the figure. "I have every wish to trust you stranger," he continued, his voice softening ever so slightly. "But my station mandates I do otherwise."
The figure wished the Knight hadn't taken the opportunity to be courteous. It would've taken a lot less mental effort to simply regard the rude knight as a threat than a servant with responsibility and loyalty to his lord, or so it seemed. Steeling himself, he stepped towards the knight and reached his own hand out.
"I would do no less myself, I believe." The knight warily complied and reached out to shake his hand. The gauntlet's many joints and plates pinched his gloved hand. "My name is Robin."
Another ripple of surprise. He heard the two gasp behind him, and the Knight instantly released his grip and seized his horse's bridle. He regarded the newly named figure intently.
Robin, of course. That was his name. Named after a bird... or something? It was etched into the cover of his book he knew, not that he had the chance to open it, and it was no doubt sewn somewhere into his worn jacket.
"...I... just remembered," Robin stammered. He turned nervously to the other two. "That's... one mystery solved?" Lissa seemed pleased, but Chrom kept his expression neutral.
"I've never heard that name before... It's not foreign is it?" Chrom asked idly, half to his companions as much as to Robin himself. "It seems like it should be a common name... Ah well, we'll discuss it once we get to-"
"Chrom!" Lissa suddenly shouted. "Look!" She grasped her brother's arm and pointed to the horizon. It took Robin a moment to notice what the girl was directing their attention to; a pillar of smoke, black and fresh, had risen from the town.
Robin stared blankly, unsure of what to do. A growl rose from Chrom. "It's those damned brigands again!" he shouted. "Frederick, Lissa, quickly!" He started to dash in the direction of the town.
Frederick steadied his horse as it counted nervously. He looked down at Robin from his steed. "And what about this one?"
"Unless he's on fire too it can wait!" Chrom's voice called back at them as the distance between them increased.
"...Aptly put..." The Knight conceded. Lissa had already taken off after her brother. With a sharp 'hyah!' he sent his horse forward.
"But wait!" Robin called after them. "What about..." he stopped as the three exited earshot. He took a step forward, and then remembered the path behind him. He could easily detach himself here, continue in the opposite direction, and forget about all of this. And yet...
The shouts from the village... he made out several voices screaming, but among them were several barks and shouts; the sounds of plundering bandits. He counted no less than five different voices, and that wasn't even taking the racket of steel and destruction into account. Even if it were slight, the small party was outnumbered.
His steps grew quicker as he found himself following the three, unsheathing his blade with one hand and drawing his tome with the other.