Robin exited yet another alley as he made his way north to the Ylissean Castle. He let out a sigh of relief as he left the cramped spaces behind him and cast another glance at the building towering over him. It seemed no closer than it had an hour ago.
Surely an optical illusion of sorts, he assured himself. The mind does like to play tricks with like corridors and unfamiliar streets. But no, the moment he returned his gaze to the streets, a familiar set of vendors and signs greeted him. There was a meat-stand operating primarily in venison… some wittily named bar… a small parlor for clothes… It was the exact same street he walked on before taking his chances in the alleys, which for an hour had wound him in a complete circle.
This isn't going to work… I wanted to stay out of sight, but what's the point if I keep getting lost? I can't even make out the castle when I'm surrounded by these houses…
Walking along the street seemed to be his best bet, but there was just another set of problems to solve and to hope that he wouldn't get lost trying to navigate those. The bustle of people had died down considerably in the time since the Exalt's parade and were much more comfortable to traverse - which also meant he was easier to spot among the primarily blond and brunet population. He pulled up his hood.
Robin spotted a billboard of sorts as he worked his way up a street. Two men had their backs to him as they chatted noisily in front, occasionally gesturing sharply to the many notes tacked to the front with nails. Carefully Robin drew as close as he dared to the strangers and scanned for a map.
The billboard was positively strewn with notes and announcements - and in need of a good cleaning. Days old notices were suffocated by the bright new ones, hastily piked unto the nails that held them in place.
'City Guard ~ On this twentieth day of the fifth month: Tremors reported in the country... Exalt calls for no alarm; string of petty pilfering persists - Watch will see that perpetrator is promptly apprehended- Any and all suspicious activity must be reported; Still no word from recent Scouting mission….'
That scouting mission was no doubt Chrom's group. He wondered if they had already given their report to the Exalt and were on their way back to search for him…
"Can we help you kid?" A gruff voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to the two young men, who now regarded him curiously.
"Er… I got lost," Robin stammered.
"Do tell," the second one remarked. "Not from around here?"
"N-No…" Gods, please don't mention anything about my coat… please… "I was heading north when I got separated from my group…"
The two men exchanged a quick glance before one stepped forward. Robin tensed himself as the man approached him. He stepped by Robin and pointed to the billboard. Robin followed his finger and saw him direct his attention to a crude diagram of the city - a city map effectively.
"Yer right here, see?" He asked. "It's a clusterjob to navigate… but this street will take you straight to northstreet. See?"
The truth was Robin couldn't see and couldn't make heads or tails of the crudely assembled groupings of blocks and lines with hastily scrawled names crammed wherever there was room. He nodded regardless.
"So you take this path… and that's straight to northstreet. I assume you know which way the sun rises and all that junk, yea?"
"Y-yes, I do…" Robin looked back and forth between the two men. They seemed to be being generous, much like the man from earlier was before he became suspicious of him. However, there was something solemn and shifty about the way they looked at him, as if they were expecting him to attack them. "This road?" He asked as he pointed to the same spot on the map. The man grunted and pointed down the street.
"Two rights down thataway. Take you straight north."
"I see, thank you very much. I don't have any way to repay you now…"
"Talk is free, take it or leave it." The man gave a shrug, returned to his friend, and led him away. "Don't benefit me none to leave some bloke lost in the streets." He added as they went on their way. "G'day."
"Good day," Robin replied.
Not half an hour later Robin found himself staring off with the blank side of a large building. To his left were more buildings, and to his right was a small incline that lead to a natural stream amids cooler, soft earth, where ramshackle housing and sheds were held up by thick stilts above the cool earth. ...I followed his directions… At least I thought I did... He looked behind him. He had gone too deep into the alley to even make out which street he had entered from.
Robin took a step forward just as he heard voices. At the sound of a young man's bark in the distance, he thought for one moment Chrom had found him. He soon realized that he didn't recognize the voice, or the sounds of his companions. Without thinking the young man dove into the incline and slipped underneath a wooden porch. His aching foot, still sore from the Pegasus from earlier, landed into a puddle of still water.
Robin willed his breathing to a stop and listened intently as a small party strode down the alley.
"Which way do you think the silverhead went?"
"Not sure… down there in the gutters maybe?"
"Hiding like a rat. You're sure it was him?"
"I… well this one had a hood up so it's anyone's guess… But I ain't taking no chances."
"Didn't the old man say he mentioned having friends?"
"Let's pray to the gods that ain't so. One bloody Plegian's enough."
Dear gods they're looking for me.
Robin dared to peek from beneath the wooden porch, still covered by its shadow. There were no sounds from above, so he assumed nobody was home. He spied a particularly wide gap in the floorboards that he could squeeze through.
Alright 'tactician,' you got yourself two options… somehow convince them that they're mistaken and/or you aren't the one they seek… or turn tail. The men, about three of them, worked their way down to the stream and mud and started scouring the immediate surroundings. One stayed behind and kept watch. None of them seemed to be carrying anything...
I wonder how hard it would be to casually exit these floorboards and go about my business without being suspected… very hard I'm sure…
When one had turned his back, Robin dove for a patch of reeds. It was a soundless transition, but Robin let out a grunt of pain from exerting his hurt foot. He seemed to go unnoticed. He paused once more to listen for any sign of being noticed. He heard none.
Robin rose to his feet and peeled for the other end of the alley. The men excitedly shouted behind him. Robin cried out once more as his foot took the full force of his dash. He heard no less than three pairs of boots pounding the ground behind him.
Maybe if you hadn't hid like a coward they wouldn't be so suspect!
A dull-eyed boy absentmindedly stepped from between two buildings, but watched with wide eyes as Robin dashed pass. His hood had fallen from his head.
A glimpse of the suffocated, narrow streets appeared at the end of the alleyway he ran down; a welcome change from the muddy quarters he found himself in presently. He tried to increase his speed without somehow slipping. Robin was stopped by a strong set of arms pulling him aside. The fourth one, the one originally keeping watch, had intercepted him, and now held him still.
"Woah, lad," he said. "Nobody's going to hurt you."
"That's not what it sounded like!" Robin cried out in protest. He quickly recognized this person as the man who had kindly returned his book during the parade. He had kept quiet during the hunt as his younger cohorts were bickering and Robin had been unable to identify him.
The three pulled to a stop behind him and approached slowly. Robin turned to face them, and realized he recognized two of them from the billboard. They must have given him false directions and intended to trap him. "That's the guy, boss?" One asked. The older man nodded his head.
"Aye, this is him. Careful now, after all yer bickering like a band of goons he's liable to be frightened out of his mind."
I'd prefer healthily fearful for my life, but that works too, Robin examined the consort carefully. None of them were any older than him, and amidst their leather belts and sashes he saw no weapons.
"Should we take him to the gate?"
"Too far away. Are there any paladins nearby?"
"H-Hey!" Robin cried out. "What's this all about?"
"Relax, boy." The older one said. "We're just trying to help."
"Help with what?" Robin asked.
"Help get you back to Plegia. Where you belong," one of the younger ones answered.
"But I'm not from Plegia!" Robin protested. "I'm… I'm needed at the Castle!"
"Are you now?" Another asked. His eyes were cold. "Special business with Her Grace, correct?" His tone was accusatory.
"No! I'm reporting with a companion of mine, his name is Chrom - please this is just a misunderstanding-"
"Big mistake, kid," One stepped forward, his face darkening. "If you knew anything about Ylisse, then you'd know better than to drop someone like Chrom in all yer horse-spewing."
"He wants us to think he's one of the Shepherds," the third added with a huff, arms crossing.
"Even if that were true…" The oldest one said firmly, still gripping Robin's shoulder. "This is out of our hands. Let's find a checkpoint and let the Guard sort him out. Least he won't be stalking the streets and gettin' attention that way."
Robin could sense tension rising as one of the young men's eyes flared up. "I ain't taking chances with a Plegian," he half-shouted.
"Cool yer head lad! You're feeling too strongly!"
"Southtown was burned by Plegians!" Before Robin could tell what was happening, he was removed from from the older one's grip and was thrown to the ground. Hard stone and cold mud struck the back of his head. He stared upwards with wide eyes as the young man stood over him, gripping his ragged shirt and hefting him upwards. "It'll be a cold day in hell before I let one act like he owns the place and get away with it!"
Robin's eyes darted between the party and his attacker. His tired arms rested heavily against the ground, he couldn't find the strength to flee. The older one was reaching and trying to pull him off, but the young man resisted. The others' expressions weren't terribly concerned and seemed content in leaving Robin and their friend be.
"My little sister lived there!" The young man cried out as he was nearly pulled off.
"Then the Exalt will judge him!" The older one retorted.
"But Southtown is safe! Chrom was there, I saw him drive the bandits away!" Robin shouted.
His words were cut off by the first blow to his face. It sent him rolling to his side. His new book dropped to his side as he got a firsthand view of the muddy pavement; the world skewed to its side. Shoulda stayed with Chrom, shoulda stayed with Chrom… I can't believe how much I miss Frederick. He watched the boots shuffle in front of him as the group struggled to hold the attacker back.
"I think he gets the picture!" One shouted.
"Not 'till I'm through with him!"
"All you lot, calm down before-!"
"That's enough!" A new voice rang out, silencing the others. Everything was quiet, Robin couldn't even hear the hubbub from the streets nearby. He heard a new set of footsteps. The three backed away, and the old one stood his ground.
Robin moaned and managed himself up to one elbow. He couldn't make out the new party, they apparently stood behind him, but they instilled looks of terror in the three young men.
The armored boots of a pegasus knight stepped in between Robin and his attackers.
"Care to explain yourselves?" she asked. Before any of the younger ones could answer, the older one spoke in their place.
"We thought to deliver this Plegian to the authorities to ensure he wasn't a threat," he said evenly. Robin saw his gaze fall.
"We didn't think, we knew!" A younger one spoke up. "He tried to run so we had to keep him still!"
"You knew for a fact?" The Pegasus knight inquired,
"He was horse-spewing about being with Chrom and being part o' the Shepherds!"
The knight nodded. "Yes, he spoke the truth."
"That's when we… what?"
"This is true," The Pegasus knight nodded and turned to look down at Robin. She held a horned helmet at her side, and a bundle of pale hair was braided down the back of her head. "I myself saw him ride with Chrom during the final approach in my patrol."
Robin watched the three deflate. The older one let out a long, pained sigh and held his brow. The knight's even expression turned to a glare as she turned her ruby eyes back on the three. "This is assault, gentlemen."
"Milady, if I may?" The older one interjected. "I take full responsibility for this. Our intention wasn't to corner him like this… and our feelings got the better of us. We started out looking to avoid this sort of thing."
"And you did a fine job." The knight's voice was cutting. She dismissively jerked her head in the direction of another alley. "We'll take it from here. We may send for you later to sort this out legally."
Robin saw the older man looking his way. The three dispersed, ashamed, perturbed, or both, but this one was solemn. I've seen what Plegians can do… they had every right to be afraid but… Robin gave a sympathetic nod - an attempted olive branch. The man nodded back, bowed to the knight and her companions, and went his way.
Robin let out a long sigh and got up to his knees. He knelt his hands on his knees and exhaled again. He felt the mark on his cheek as he spied his new book, once more on the ground, caught in a thin pool of drying mud. Another set of boots stop in front of him - they were much more ornate than the flat-footed ones the Knight person knelt down, a white dress folding at her knees. A set of hands touched his face and lifted his gaze upwards.
Robin's breath caught in his throat. He was face to face with the Exalt.
He stood stunned. He couldn't get a good look before, and now she stood right in front of him, and it was slightly overwhelming. She had the countenance of a beautiful sculpture; demure and kind. Her eyes were soft and gentle, but their blue color blazed forth. Her golden hair nearly blended with the huge golden collar that draped around her shoulders. He spotted a mark upon her forehead - the same as Chrom's.
She brushed the hair back on the side of his face and lightly touched the bruise on his cheek. "This is the one Chrom spoke of, Phila?" She asked. Her voice was smooth as silk and carried a motherly tone. The Pegasus knight nodded.
"The very one, Your Grace," Phila said. She nodded again. "A pleasure to see you again Sir, in spite of circumstances."
The Exalt's eyes were upon him, scanning his muddied robes and his bruise. Robin's blood was cold and his heart quickened. "You've had a fine first impression of my home… Please don't hold it against them. If only we'd heard sooner." She said softly.
"It's… no… problem…" He could hardly make the words come forth.
"We should see to this immediately," she said gently. She touched Robin's shoulders and gently guided him to his feet. His foot still hurt, but Robin managed not to seethe as he set it down. "We'll take you back to the palace. Can you walk?" She asked quickly. Robin grunted in response.
"Yeah, I should be fine." Robin took note of a pair of paladin knights hanging near the entrance of the street, their golden helms glinting even in the dim of the alleyway.
"We'll be on our way then. We should send for Chrom immediately and… Oh!" The Exalt knelt down once more.
"Milady…!" Phila pleaded with the slightest bit of exasperation. The Exalt quickly retrieved Robin's dropped book from the dirt, her bare hands freely touching the muddied cover. She rose to her feet and returned the book to Robin.
Her eyes relaxed as a gentle smile spread across her face. "This is yours, correct?"
Robin ducked his head as he received the offer with both hands. "Yes, thank you Milady."
Her smile grew. "Think nothing of it."
Robin would have pulled up his hood, but it was heavy and damp with mud. He could think of no other way to somehow hide as he stood in the presence of the Exalt herself as she strode forth in the streets. The Exalt accompanied Robin on foot, never breaking pace with him, just as Chrom had. Phila and the two paladins formed a protective triangle with their steeds as they rode alongside. Sometimes she would turn to him with a quiet questioning in her eyes, saying nothing. She was nearly as tall as Frederick when he stood upright. All other times her eyes faced always forward, towards the castle in the distance. The palace grew even bigger than Robin had ever imagined it could be.
"W-what about Chrom?" Robin asked. "Has he arrived yet?"
"I sent one of my friends after him," Emmeryn said gently. "We had scarce finished talking when he realized you were missing. He was off immediately to find you. We agreed to meet at the Castle after he found you, but I had met with Phila and was on my way home when I heard the noise from the alley. He mentioned you in our talk, but I don't think he gave me your name?"
"It's… Robin, milady."
"Robin," The Exalt repeated. "Sir Robin. It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure you already know mine."
"I do, Milady," Robin said, not wanting to speak her name out of line. "From what I could tell, he held you in high regard."
"And praytell, Robin," Phila added. "What had you separated in the first place?"
Robin fought the urge to scratch his dirty hair as color rose to his pale cheeks. "Oh, it was… I was an idiot and got my foot trampled by a Pegasus Knight during the procession. I lost sight of Chrom shortly after."
"Not one of my knights, surely?!" Phila cried out suddenly, her eyes widened as she glanced over her shoulder at Robin.
"It's an accident anyone could make Phila," Emmeryn consoled. Phila set her expression.
"It is," she said sternly. "And I have a feeling I know which one it was…"
The massive gates to palace slid open, producing a crevice in the mighty barricade - just wide enough for the three riders and two on foot to pass. Robin craned his neck to see the top of the gates and the mighty ramparts dotting their exterior. The Castle itself once more invoked the feeling of a mighty painting - a perfectly fairytale construct with pointed towers and blocky foundations. Robin counted windows and tried to approximate how many rooms on the interior; he lost count somewhere around one hundred.
Once more he saw the symbol upon blue banners draped across the castle's mighty walls. "What else did Chrom tell you before arriving here in Ylisstol?" Phila asked as she dismounted her steed.
"Well, he was very concerned that I know of the nearby kingdoms," Robin began. "He told me about Ylisse and his band, but not much about himself." Phila nodded once, and Robin continued. "He told me - to the effect at least - that he was simply a shepherd. His knight companion made me curious, but now that I'm here in Ylisse proper… I have a feeling there's more to it than that, isn't there?"
Phila nodded again. "Quite," she said briskly.
"He doesn't like drawing attention to himself," Emmeryn said.
Upon entering the western wing, as Phila guided him, Robin was met with a strange, coarse doormat. It was placed into a small indent so that the carpet just met with the rest of the tiled floor. Stepping on it drew forth water as if one squeezed a sponge - meaning the indent was filled with liquid. Phila dragged her boots across the coarse rug, and then across a dry mat placed directly in front, and then proceeded across the tiling, leaving no muddied footprint. Robin did the same.
As they entered the main hallway, a massive velvet carpet sprawled along each and every corridor, not leaving one inch of the floor uncovered. Massive green banners hung from the walls; magnificent tapestries of lions and eagles. He noticed the occasional upturned table, broken shelf, or pile of broken pottery neatly swept to the side.
"Apologies for the mess," Phila spoke as she lead the two through the halls, hands tucked to her back as she walked. "We received the worst of the quaking I wager."
"The servants must have their work cut out for them," Robin said.
"We all do, I'm afraid," Emmeryn said. "Chrom said as much."
They came to a lounge of sorts - low couches accompanied by a short table. There was a single window letting sunlight in; and an empty chandelier and candle stands stood at the ready throughout the room. Robin wasn't going to attempt it, but a quick and serious look from Phila told him he wasn't to sit down just yet. He examined the room once more. There were bookshelves, a little disheveled but mostly intact, at each end of the room. One carried dictionaries and non-fiction, the other seemed to be epics and poetry. There were exactly four couches surrounding the table, each with a soft brown upholstery studded with golden bolts.
"I suppose we shall make do until Chrom comes back," Emmeryn said.
Robin turned back to Emmeryn and had a start as she began to remove her coat. He couldn't help but shyly turn away at first. From the corner of his eye he saw Phila quickly run behind her and help her. "I'll have a new one ready for you," she said as she folded the massive green shawl into a neat bundle. "And Sir Robin, down the corridor to your right you will find a washroom. You will make yourself presentable for further audience with Her Grace. I recommend you take your time - Your clothes will be washed and dried by the servants in the meantime."
"O-of course…" A bath? ...Gods, when was the last time I had one of those? Robin waited to see if Phila had anything left to tell him, and when she said nothing he took his leave down the exit to the right. He let out a yelp as he felt something tug him from behind before he could leave the room. He turned around, completing the motion needed for Emmeryn to remove his own massive coat. He hugged his bare arms instinctively - he felt naked without it.
"W-What? Wait…"
"This will be cleaned and handled with care," Emmeryn said with a smile. Without her coat covering her frame, she wore only a simple white dress that parted in a vertical line down her left side. A golden fabric covered her neck and shoulders. "We'll do everything to make sure Chrom's guest is comfortable."
"I…" He would rather nobody else even touch his special coat, but he wasn't about to turn down the Exalt's kindness. "...Thanks, I guess…"
Robin cursed inwardly at the slip in his tongue. Phila's expression showed a flash of disapproval, but Emmeryn smiled still. "My pleasure," she said. As Robin shyly departed, he heard one last exchange from Phila and her Mistress.
"You might as well change your own clothes after touching that, milady. That thing positively reeks."
He must have frequented bath houses in his previous life, as Robin had no trouble getting to work once he found the washroom. A small flap built into the bottom of the door allowed for a small basket to be discreetly passed under the closed door, which Robin made sure to lock. He set his belongings aside where they wouldn't get wet, reluctantly placed his clothes into the basket and slid them through the flap, and submerged into the tub, which took up roughly two thirds of the washroom. The tub was already filled with water that grew warmer as time went on. Based on the crunching somewhere beneath him and the jolly murmur of voices, Robin quickly deduced that the tub was built over a furnace that was being tended to as he bathed. The warm water did wonders for his aching muscles, as well as his hurt foot. His bruises from the chase stung a little, but it was hardly an issue.
The soap was an interesting affair; he found a selection of scented oils and ointments that provided no immediate effect, alongside a dish filled with a firm jelly of sorts. It seemed to be composed of oils and fats, and squeezing it between his fingers revealed tiny grains that gave it a sort of gritty texture. This was in fact the soap, and for the most part it served its purpose - sans the fact that it didn't smell very nice. It was by no means offensive, but he certainly didn't want to smell of the stuff after a long bath. He discovered this was where the ointments from earlier came in - one would simply freshen up with a scent of their choice to mask the musky odor of the pragmatic soap that was provided. It was far more effective than a simple bar of soap, which the average family probably could only afford so much of at a time, but the smell was a major caveat.
Robin took his time as he was told, and he spent it pondering more about Chrom's place in the kingdom. The Exalt bore a mark just like his own - rather the whole city did. Was it a holy mark inscribed by their doctrine? A fighter like Chrom was given a mark on his arm while the figurehead like Emmeryn had one on her head? He shuddered to imagine such a procedure on one's face. He raised his hand and studied the mark on the back of his right hand. Chrom's brand gave the impression of a divine torch, but his own was much more abstract. It started as a helix of sorts at the bottom, which quickly split into two branches that spread upwards on both sides. Six round marks, three on each side, were aligned on the two branches - giving the impression of six beady eyes looking up at him whenever he looked at the back of his palm.
Robin let his hand and the strange mark slip beneath the water as he leaned against the tub. If Chrom really wants me to be a part of his team, I'll need to know everything about him… I will ask Chrom directly once he arrives, he decided.
Robin's clothes were slipped under the door once more shortly before he decided to exit. The water had either peaked its warmth or the furnace was no longer tended to, and the temperature slowly dropped. His limbs felt cold and heavy upon leaving the warm water. He dried himself off with a coarse towel, warmed by the fog of steam that had manifested. The odd soap-smell still hung in the air, and he got to work with one of the ointments, to which he had no preference and chose at random. He only hoped his choice didn't invoke some sort of fashion faux pas.
His clothes felt stiff and strange after their first good cleaning in a while. He wondered how the servants managed to dry them so quickly without involving fire of some sorts - they didn't smell like smoke. Some method involving a magic tome perhaps? Servants for cleaning, servants for managing a furnace for the bath, and with such efficiency! The Exalt has a workforce at her beck and call. I wonder how often Chrom would be treated to such luxuries… he surely has something similar at his own estate.
When he returned to the lounge, he found his coat draped over one of the couches. His book lay on the table, having remained in his coat, and its was cover wiped clean. He ran for the coat, slipped into it and fasted the buttons at his collar, and let out a long, satisfied sigh as he was made whole again.
"You cherish that coat?" Emmeryn entered the room, flanked by Phila. The pegasus knight stood near the window as the Exalt gently lay a tray of cups unto the table.
"It and my journal - they're the only things that feel like they're still mine," Robin reasoned.
"It does has your name sewn into it, I couldn't help but notice," Emmeryn remarked. "Do you remember who gave it to you?" She set down a cup near Robin's book. He had never witnessed the smell since waking up in the field, but he recognized it immediately; tea.
"No, unfortunately. It's… complicated," He said as he gently sat himself down. Are we to drink tea till Chrom arrives…?
"Your memory," Emmeryn said carefully. "It was one of the first things Chrom mentioned about you."
"...Ah…" Robin nervously took a sip. It was sweet tea, but was light enough to savor.
"This concerned me greatly when I first heard of it, especially considering how close you were to the Plegian border when Chrom found you. I am versed in the healing arts… if you'd allow me, I would attempt to treat you."
Robin slowly nodded.
"Splendid. I actually have several questions I was hoping we could discuss with you, Robin. I want to know everything we can, maybe we can find some way to help you in your plight." Emmeryn paused to sip from her cup. "But we until then, I'd simply like to get to know you better." She beckoned to Phila to join them, who shook her head.
"My thanks, Milady," she said. "But I'd rather keep my post until the Captain returns."
Emmeryn asked Robin several questions that he did his best to answer - Phila sometimes strode around the room, helping herself to a book, but mostly she stood vigilant and silently listened. He was asked of course, of his meeting with Chrom and what happened the day before, to which Robin gave an abridged version, skimming past the Eye of Naga and the Creatures. Chrom would be better of explaining those things to her, he reasoned. She was mildly interested to hear of a Valmese in their midst, but she often would suddenly interject with questions about Robin's interests amidst his explanations. Robin answered these as best as he could.
"I see you're reading a volume of Mark's," she said during their talk. "Do you enjoy history and the like?"
"I like learning from old stories… at least I think I used to. It would be good to learn everything I can about the world I'm in. But I acquired this book specifically to read up on strategies. My own journal is filled with this sort of thing, but I wanted a new foundation to build off of."
"Perhaps at some point in the future, Sir Robin could help himself to the Archives," Phila chimed in. "Where the other six volumes await."
"All seven? That many?!" He was embarrassingly giddish, which garnered a soft chuckle from Emmeryn.
When their cups were emptied, Phila retrieved a tea kettle from another room and filled their cups on her own. At that moment she seemed more a maid than a knight. She smiled warmly to Exalt and guest alike as she worked - a far cry from the set brow of solemn Frederick. Robin made a passing comment on Phila's friendliness, which lead into a conversation about Frederick, which was more engrossing than he would have assumed. According to Emmeryn, Frederick wasn't born noble, but was recruited from a small village in the eastern parts of Ylisse when he was a child. He advanced through the ranks of knighthood shortly after Emmeryn took to the throne; one of the quickest in history it seemed. The subject of his wariness and scrutiny came up, to which Phila assured Robin everyone was aware of.
"The contrast between our firm and fair Captain and stone-cold Frederick are merely part of the Shepherding experience, I'm afraid," she told him.
When Emmeryn had heard everything she wanted, she sent Phila off to retrieve something from another chamber. "Robin, may I see your hand please?" She asked. Robin hesitated, but complied. "Your right hand please, I just want to make sure of something…" Robin reached across the table and Emmeryn gently took his hand into hers.
Her brow furrowed as she examined his strange mark. "...This is most definitely Grimleal…" she whispered. The name was ominous enough to fill Robin with a great foreboding. She ran a finger along the dark lines. Robin struggled not to recoil. "You cannot recall whether you had this before meeting Chrom?"
"...I can't…"
Emmeryn studied the symbol. "It is neither a burn, nor an insertion of color… it's as natural as if you were born with it… as most curses are."
Curse?
"Your Grace," Phila had returned, and she hefted a fairly large healing stave with her. Robin's eyes widened at the size. It was much like the one Lissa carried, only it was topped by a formidable crescent moon shape. Emmeryn nodded to Phila and stood up. She asked that Robin remain seated as she took the staff into her hands. Phila stood back.
"This is the strongest stave I own," Emmeryn said. She paused. "You do want to remember what was before, Robin?"
"Of course. I'm no better than a lost child the way I am now."
"Then we shall begin. With the Gods' help, I may be able to relieve what ails you, if only slightly…"
The gemstone on the stave's summit shone a warm and gentle color. The glow it emitted invoked a sort of drowse; a deep comfort that would have surely put him to sleep were he any more tired. Emmeryn had closed her eyes and whispered quietly to herself as she gently lowered the staff in Robin's direction. Robin winced as the glow intensified and held out his hand to block the glare.
The crest of the staff gave Robin the slightest touch, and with a resounding flash the glowing stopped. Robin said nothing, unsure if the procedure was over.
Emmeryn looked on with hopeful eyes. "...How do you feel?"
The truth was he felt splendid- the euphoric effect of the healing magic coursed through him. He stopped his thinking to focus on Emmeryn's question. My name is Robin. I'm a traveller. Chrom brought me to Ylisstol. He found me in the field… but before that… Before that…
Where did his journal come from? Why did he see the face of a stranger when he viewed his reflection? Did he really hear voices in the wake of the creatures? And the mark… ah, it was still on his hand. He let out a tired sigh- what little weariness he kept after his soak had been relieved - but he was still the same man as when Chrom met him.
"Nothing's coming back," he said. "I feel the same as before…" He felt his cheek and found that his bruise was gone, and had a pleasant surprise when he absentmindedly stretched his leg. "...Oh! But my foot's much better now!"
Emmeryn's solemn expression found room for a soft smile. "I'm glad then, that this was of some help at least." The Exalt set down the stave but remained standing up, brow furrowing.
"An hypothesis, Your Grace?" Phila asked. Emmeryn closed her eyes and sighed.
"Robin, I can only guess what's happened to you - your loss of memory is not by injury, but by some effect, possibly by magic."
Robin became quiet and listened.
"My healing magic did nothing, which means it is most likely a curse… or something of a similar nature. Those are the only things healing magic cannot touch. The mark on your hand tells of dark magic, Robin. Most concerning..."
"If it is Grimleal, perhaps then he was deposited near the border when the Plegians had no more use for him," Phila reasoned. "But you say you were armed when Chrom found you, correct?"
"Well… I had enough to defend myself anyway…"
"It must have been a hasty job then." Phila and Emmeryn were silent for a moment longer before the Exalt once more took her seat.
"I'm sorry Robin, it appears I can't help you after all. Please forgive me for taking your time…"
Robin threw up his hands and started laughing - nervously. "Not at all, not at all! Heh, you've done so much for me thus far! If anything at all, I seem to impose on everyone I meet. I really am thankful for you taking me here and treating me like this… so please… It only means my answers are elsewhere for now."
I hope. He added silently.
Emmeryn's smile returned. "My pleasure, Robin."
Chrom cast one last look behind him as the massive palace gates closed once more. It was nearly evening, and they had not seen Robin since early noon. Lissa had grown quiet, and Frederick strode alongside his steed in silence.
"We'll find him eventually," he said. Lissa nodded. Frederick said nothing. Every last nerve of his wanted to accuse Frederick of happily leaving their strange new friend to his fate, but Chrom knew better than to let his feelings boil forth.
After a servant lead Gwendolyn away, the three made their way to the west wing; where the Exalt would rest after long meetings or excursions. The interior was still in shambles from the quaking.
"Chrooom…" Lissa whined. "I'm worried."
"Lissa, it's wise to temper yourself in times as these," Frederick said huskily. "Things don't always go according to plan. Bad feelings pile atop each other and make a bad situation feel worse…."
"Like you cared at all…" Lissa said under her breath.
"Lissa, I don't wish for anything to happen to him! I'm just trying to be rational."
"We know Frederick. Peace, Lissa. Getting upset won't help anyone." Chrom said in spite of himself.
"I'm taking a bath," Lissa said abruptly. "I don't wanna be all smelly when I meet Emmeryn." She split from the others and made her way down a hallway.
Chrom and Frederick came across Phila, who was just returning from one of the offices running adjacent the grand hall. Chrom was perplexed when she mentioned a messenger- they never met one when they were out. She saw his concern and directed him to the Exalt's lounge. Chrom thanked her and nearly ran down the hall till he found the ebony doors.
He quickly swung them open and started forward. "Emm, Emmeryn!" He called. "I've searched all over the city and found nothing, I fear the worst! Please you have to help me find… Ro...bin…"
The young traveller, looking rather comfortable, held a teacup in one hand and was lazily turning a page in his book with the other as he lay on a sofa. His silver hair was basically white now, it was so clean. He looked up at the two nobles and their knight. The Exalt sat across from him, helping herself to her own book. She smiled.
"Chrom, so good to see you again!"
The prince stood there, jaw agape. Every brutal misgiving and imagination for Robin's fate, accrued during the whole afternoon, vanished from his mind. A sort of bitter relief came to him. Has Robin really been… Sipping tea as we searched the city high and low for him?!
Robin tempered himself. It was his own fault they were separated in the first place, and it was hardly Chrom's fault for arriving so late, but he too felt an inkling of dismay that it had taken so long to be reunited. In spite of this, he thanked the Gods once more that no more complication had arisen. And if the sagging soldiers and tired, weary smile as he held his brow was anything to go by, Chrom didn't mind terribly either.
He wasn't one to enjoy the worries that came from mishaps and misunderstandings… but the expression on Frederick's face was priceless. His eyebrows would surely fly away if they went any further up his forehead.
He smiled and took another sip of tea.