Disclaimer - I don't own Fire Emblem. All of its properties belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.
Warnings for violence and gore
Interlude
My boots make a soft thump against the stone groundwork as I land quietly beneath the overhanging branch that extends just outside of Khan Flavia's estate. I swing my head both ways searching for any late night revelers before dashing swiftly into the night.
My thoughts are a whirlwind of uncertainty.
What I had thought to be a meeting of answers brought forth only more questions.
There is a Robin here after all but she is not my own. Where the original has gone, as well as her fell counterpart, is a mystery that continues to elude me. It sickens me to no end knowing that they both continue to allude my grasp. If the world's balance was ever in mortal peril before, it may be at its greatest now.
Then, there is this remaining Robin.
She...she is something I cannot comprehend and that frightens me more than anything. This Robin speaks with a strange accent and utters words of a world filled with things I don't understand. I still am trying to understand what an 'oboe' is.
Despite my better judgement, I have found myself agreeing to some sort of alliance with this strange woman. She may be odd, vulgar, and a bit eccentric, but she does have one redeeming feature.
She is honest. Brutally so, even.
Not once did she ever give me the reason for suspicion of deception. I think it's partly because of her brash nature. She speaks before she thinks and the words simply tumble out, truth and all.
Regardless, I found myself believing in the words of friendship she extended. It's been such a long time since I've been faced with another human being who seemed so sincere in their devotion to a cause. I was flabbergasted. It's a stark contrast to her mirror image whose existence is bound tightly with lies and illusions.
I can only pray that my conscience has not led me astray into another trap. My options are near exhausted and I truly do not know how much longer I can champion this cause.
I swallow my melancholy and continue down the street. There are others waiting for me and I have no time to brood.
I dash up the deserted roadway and twist into the first alley. I pause and peer once over my shoulder searching for some sign of pursuit. Perhaps it is paranoia that fuels my actions, but I find myself looking nonetheless. It is years of battle against that woman's spies that has made me wary of every step I take. Even when I find myself seemingly free of her, I still feel haunted by her ghost.
Seeing nothing to cause me hesitation, I flee deeper into the recesses of the corridor. The wooden crates I climb upon creak under my weight. I follow them up and vault over the top of the wooden fence they lean against. With a quiet thump, I land in the abandoned space that lies between the two buildings.
The lone occupants of the tiny area swiftly turn from the opposite direction they had kept watch. Hands drop from their weapons when they see it is only I.
"Lucina!"
I'm nearly thrown back as a strong pair of arms wrap tightly around my torso. My body goes ridged under the snug embrace of my kin.
"Owain," I say uncomfortably in greeting.
Aware that both I and our companion are eyeing him, my cousin promptly jumps back. Owain clears his throat in embarrassment as he throws his chest out while resting both hands on his hips. I don't understand how he expects anyone to take him serious when he wears such a foolish grin.
"Exalted Cousin and blood of my blood, you return!" His voice grows deeper as he bellows boisterously. "I assume you have returned triumphant from your reconnaissance under enemy lines?"
A pebble emerges from the darkness and strikes his forehead. Owain's face breaks character and crunches up in pain. His hand shoots to the point of impact and presses against the spot. "Ow! What was that for Nah?" he protests in discomfort.
Our friend walks to his side, her disapproving gaze piercing into him. She pokes him once in the ribs for good measure. "Owain, now isn't the time for silly games."
Nah ignores his grumbling and turns to me. "Welcome back Lucina. How did your meeting go?"
"Better than I surmised," I state with a hint of false cheer.
To them, Robin is no different from the stories of what they know of: a brilliant and loyal tactician who served the Shepherds faithfully through war and disaster alike. They always remain unaware of things in the beginning. Occasionally, if I have found them in time, my companions learn the ugly truth. The knowledge never remains and, once the cycle is reset, they revert to their blissful ignorance again.
I envy my friends for this luxury.
Like always, I withhold the appropriate information and fabricate what I can. It's no use putting them into some sort of induced panic. I have enough problems as it is and I don't need what few allies I have left on my side prematurely instigating events beyond their time. Naga's knows how well that went the first time...
So, I divulge what I can. It's a simple lie. I tell them that I met with Robin anonymously as a messenger from the future. She was shocked at first but was receptive to listening when I explained the mortal peril her Exalt was in.
Truthfully, it's a summarization of what has happened numerous times on the eve of my Aunt's attempted assassination. I merely transpose those events to now and alter the details as I see fit. Both Owain and Nah hang to my every word as I describe proving my legitimacy by allegedly unveiling Falchion, an impossible feat given only one exists and it currently resides with my father.
The sole speck of truth I allow to filter in is of the so called-alliance Robin and I have established. There's no reason to keep them in the dark to this as that would have been the plan in all eventuality. It would only have been a matter of time should she have continued along with the Shepherds as she has been. Of course the reality behind her existence and what she has brought to light will remain with me for now.
As I end the 'account' of my meeting, both of my friends come to life in excitement.
"That's great news, Lucina! Just think of it! With both of you working together, there's no way we can lose," Nah exclaims joyfully. I haven't seen such a genuine smile on her in some time. It's almost alarming.
Owain throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in, knocking our heads together. "That's my cousin!" he gloats freely. "I'm glad one of us stuck with reading those strategy tomes. What luck it was for us that you managed to save all of Lady Robin's tactical logs from the castle before it fell!"
"I suppose it was," I chuckle darkly.
In truth, it was not I who did so.
You don't remember do you, Owain? You don't remember it was Lady Sumia's daughter who saved those tomes and many others from the fires that ravaged Ylisstol the day we lost her. You don't remember the energetic girl whom you dashed into battle with under that silly banner of yours. The Justice Cabal I believe?
No, you will never remember her name. Only I still recall the faces of those who once stood beside me in the fight to save those we loved.
Cynthia.
Her name was Cynthia.
She wasn't the first among us to disappear. It was Brady, if I recall. During the fourth cycle was it?
Robin had all but abandoned her place as tactician among the Shepherds. Without her flawless strategies to carry the forces of Ylisse through Plegia, casualties occurred. Lady Maribelle was the first among them. A simple curse that stopped her heart before she could even cry out. A death that occurred all because she was placed unprotected with the rest of the army's healers in an open position.
It had been horrifying to experience, more so for Brady than the rest of us. I hadn't thought to fear at first, for every time we reset the deaths would as well. It would be just this one instance I would let Robin revert time to right the wrong that occurred. The next time we would be more vigilant and prevent her death.
But when the cycle began anew, Brady was no longer there. And it was not just his body, it was his very existence. No matter how much I tried to convince my allies of his presence, they simply denied it.
"Who is Brady?" they would say.
"Don't be silly. Lady Maribelle passed on before she could have children," they would refute.
And so she did.
Fate had changed course and left its mark. Without the famed tactician to prevent the massacre that happened on that morning, Lady Maribelle's life was changed forever. No amount of interference could change her fate, just as it was with my aunt. Just as it was for all the other Shepherds who would fall in future cycles.
Each one of their faces flash before my mind's eye with the approximate cycle and stage of their deaths.
Each one of the children they left behind flashes with the cycle they disappeared.
And I? I feel nothing.
My heart was stabbed through over and over and over again until there was nothing left to pierce. All that remains is an empty cavity that has left me numb to the shock. Death to me is like the air I breathe, natural and unnoticed as I go about my day.
Sometimes...
Sometimes I wonder who has become the bigger monster. Is it Grima, the demon who revels alive and joyful in the deaths of others? Or is it I, the crusader who walks stone hearted over the bodies and memories of those she once cared for to save the life of one man?
"Did you hear me Lucina?" Nah's voice breaks into my reverie.
I put on a fake smile, one of the many masks I have learned to master in all this time. "My apologies Nah. It seems my mind has wandered. What is it you spoke of?"
Nah cocks her head in annoyance. "Not you too. Please don't tell me you're picking up your cousin's airheaded habits."
"Hey!" Owain interjects.
She ignores him. "I was asking if we should immediately set out for Ylisstol so that we can find a place to stay. I assume we should stay nearby if we are to start planning for that evening."
She doesn't have to elaborate for me to know what she speaks of. I know very well what she means by 'that evening.' It is the evening of my elder aunt's assassination.
Nah would be correct if it wasn't for the fact that one of our last remaining friends is nearby. I have learned by now the exact time and appearance of all my allies, and Laurent is no exception. At this timeframe he should be travelling only five days from our whereabouts. It should be no problem catching up with him and adding him back into our band.
So I lie again. I concoct a fantastical tale of how I heard rumors of a genius mage who wanders the northeast expanses of Ylisse performing deeds in a vein quite similar to Laurent. I completely take ahold of their attention when I describe the boy in looks.
Nah's eyes are wide in surprise. "If it is him then we have to find him! Even if it is only a rumor it wouldn't hurt to look into it. I wouldn't be able to sleep properly without checking, not knowing whether it was him or not."
"Nah, I don't think you have to worry. That sounds like Laurent alright! I'd bet my favorite sword on it!" Owain exclaims.
It's astounding how easily they agree with me. All my friends have looked to me as leader, their loyalty unflinching. They may very well jump to their deaths if I ordered them provided I give some intelligent sounding reason. I hate it. It reminds me too much of Robin and how she used that same trust in the Shepherds to lead them to their demise unknowingly.
But in this instance, it is appreciated. I simply wish to find Laurent and then be on our way. There's...much to look into.
The three of us had managed to grab sleep between the Arena and now allowing us to simply leave as we were. Owain was kind enough to watch my belongings as I went about my meeting and gladly relinquished them to me as we left. With our business concluded, we flit through shadows and exit the city's protective walls.
The central lands of Regna Ferox are rough but they are by no means dangerous. Despite the decrepit looking road ways, Ferox's roads are better patrolled than Ylisse's drastically reducing the rate of banditry.
We walk the route undisturbed. The storm clouds from earlier are but distant flashes on the horizon leaving the overhead sky open and vast. Aside from the hushed whispers of my companions, all is quiet.
That's why we can hear the sudden eruption of screams so clearly.
The three of us freeze.
"What was that?" Nah asks quietly. She is trying hard to sound brave but there is a tremor in her voice. Her one hand is hovering close to the pocket where her sole dragonstone is tucked away.
Owain's hand shoots promptly to his hilt. He strides up beside me and squints into the darkness around us. "Human or animal?" he asks.
"Human," I whisper back. The tone of a man's scream is unmistakable.
"I think it came from somewhere over there," Nah points into the treeline on our right.
As if confirming her guess, another piercing scream echoes. It's close. Perhaps only a short ways beyond us.
"Lucina." Owain's voice is insistent as he gives me an expectant look. He means to intervene despite having no knowledge of what he may be getting into. Curse his fool heroic tendencies. An unfortunate family inheritance. Just look at my father and you'll see they share the same mentality.
I know there is little to dissuade that famous stubbornness so I merely nod my head silently in agreement. Nah looks even paler in the dark but stands resolutely behind us.
I leave the path and make for the trees with the others following right after. We move with a speedy stealth learned from years of practice evading Risen. Twigs are evaded and shadows become our cover as we slip silently through the forest. The same expertise allows me to avoid the first corpse I come across.
I am able to divert my path at last second preventing an unfortunate stumble over the torn remains of some unfortunate soul.
"Oh Naga!" Nah murmurs while covering her mouth with both hands. "Is that...?"
The lower half of a human male lays strewn about the grassy foliage. Everything above the man's hip region has been violently ripped off. The skin hangs in shreds around the edges, stained red with the gristle of his remaining intestines that spill out in a tangled mess. The blood pooling around the legs is fresh and still pumping out its last drops.
Owain's jaw is set firm and he keeps his eyes focused on the lower thighs as he bends down to examine the body. He pushes the armored remains with the knuckles of his hand.
"These shin guards are made of broiled leather and red Tiberium. That's standard issue among Feroxi patrolmen," he notes grimly. Owaine leans in closer and points to the lower leg. "There's some deep gouges in the armor."
I peer closer and see he's right. Whatever tore into this man sliced through both metal and leather until it hit the bone itself.
"Hey, I think I found a, um, other part of him," Nah blanches. She gingerly points to another bloodied chunk some few feet away.
Loathe as I am to do so, I wander over. A gauntlet covered forearm lays discarded to the side with the snapped remains of a long sword around it.
I hear the crack of wood and instantly whirl around. I feel uneasy and I glare into the darkness, searching for the source.
Nah looks to me in concern. "Lucina what is-"
A new scream erupts, different from the one before. It sounds as though it is coming from right next to us!
Owain hops to his feet and starts to run in the direction of the source.
"Owain, wait!" Nah shouts.
I leap across the space between us and collide with him. "Are you mad?" I grab him by the arms and give him a good shake. "What good are you accomplishing by running in blindly swinging at the gods know what? You'll end up just like this man here!"
"She's right! You can't be so spontaneous about things like this! Listen to Lucina for once already!" Nah implores from behind us.
"Indeed! This is foolish! You can't just-"
"Lucina."
Owain cuts into my speech with a firm enough tone that renders me quiet. Despite the urgency in his voice, he's still smiling. He hand fidgets around the hilt of his blade as he looks into the depths of the forest. Finally, he looks upon me once more.
"I'm tired of people dying Lucina. Aren't you?" he asks me. There's no theatrics or stunts or off-handed quips here. This is my cousin asking me my opinion on a blunt, cold truth.
Am I?
I acknowledge that it's more prudent to leave now and look away. We can feign ignorance and leave this mess for Regna Ferox to handle. Investigating further could only lead us to a similar demise given that the elements are not with us. It's dark, space is constricted, and we have no knowledge at hand to what did this.
But then, why shouldn't we investigate? All three of us have the skills to do so. And, we all made vows the day we came back to the past to use the gifts our parents gave us to protect those in need so that no one would know the suffering we had to endure. And we hadn't meant solely our families either. We meant all people, kin and stranger alike.
Philosophy aside, there's one final important question I have to ask myself: Do I feel like potentially losing my cousin today?
Owain is going to go help with or without me. Going in without Nah or I at his side will drastically reduce his chances of success by two-thirds. So do I feel like risking his life?
The answer is no. No, I don't.
"Stay with us," I say in resignation. "Do not leave my side, understand?"
Owain's smile turns into a wide grin and the light sparks back in his eyes. "Let us move onward then, my dearest compatriots!" he declares, his hammish persona rearing its ugly head. His hands flexes on the pommel of his weapon. "My sword hand rages for justice!"
Nah's look of disbelief changes to disappointment. She gives me a good long stare of accusation before shaking her head.
I wish I could reproach my cousin for his behavior but I cannot. His penchant for over-the-top heroics and tale-weaving is the same personality quirk that Nah exhibits when she mothers us and attempts to act twice her age.
Senior Enchanter Miriel would have classified it as a "coping mechanism."
It is a unique personality quirk they've each adopted to help deal with loss and prevent their own minds from deteriorating into madness.
So forgive me Nah, but I'll allow Owain to continue his theatrics a while longer.
With hands on weapons, the three of us move further in. The trees thin and break into clearing. The grove is barely lit under the sliver of the waning moon. Nonetheless, I am able to see a figure standing within it. Is this person the source of the scream? Before I can assess them further, Owain steps boldly into the grove.
"Hark, lone traveller! Are you in need of aid? We were drawn forth from the road by your desperate screams and have come to provide a lending hand toward that which wishes you harm!"
My intuition peaks and I feel a cold shiver wash over me. Something isn't right here. More specifically, something feels wrong about this person before us.
I see them go rigid in surprise from my cousin's declaration of greeting. Slowly they turn. As they do so, I can now see the spear held out in both their hands. The tip glints briefly in the moonlight and I can see it coated in a thin sheen of something wet.
"Oh."
Nah's tiny gasp alerts me to the mess around the figure's feet. Two more bodies, at least I believe to be that many, lie torn apart before them. Like the remains we found before, these are just as equally bloody and mangled.
"Whoops. This doesn't look good," the figure worriedly states. Their face is obscured by their hood but from the way they turn I can tell they are looking between us and the limbs behind them. "Weeeeell then. Don't suppose you all wouldn't mind just turning around and forgetting what you saw, would you?"
"Blast it," Owain's voice dips so only we can hear. I can feel his despair at failing to reach these guards in time. "We couldn't..."
"At least we have the murderer," Nah states sadly. "We can help them rest by avenging them here."
I don't respond, too caught up in my feelings. There's something very familiar about this person.
Owain draws forth his blade. He stares hard at the figure, his blue eyes now as gray and cold as the steel in his hands under the moonlight. "So, the helpless victim has revealed themself to be the actual villain! Identify yourself you dastardly dastard you!" he shouts, voice wavering in emotion.
They shrug. "Well, can't say I didn't give you guys a chance to run."
The figure playfully twirls their spear between both hands as they start to walk forward. "You know, picking one name is really hard when you have so many good ones. For examples, there's Scourge of the North, the Black Rider, Death from Above...or there's the ones I personally invented for people to call me: Supreme Ruler, Devious Evilness, Lady Grimdark Bananagins..."
Those mannerisms. That voice. I know her! Good gods!
My hand tightens upon Falchion. "Your name is Marc," I say breathlessly. "Grima's most loyal servant."
"Well if you want to be boring, you can call me that. I stopped using it awhile ago though," she says apathetically. "But hey! How'd you know my name? That's so weird. Did you guess? That'd be pretty good if you did," she claps. "But remember, it's Marc with a 'C'." She punctuates the last point by raising her hand and forming the letter with her thumb and forefinger. "Everyone always seems to get that wrong."
It is bizarre to see her standing casually without her fearsome armor or mount beside her. Of all those I have encountered as enemies, only Grima trumps my fear of this girl. I have endured countless cycles worth of danger but her mysterious appearance last cycle under Grima's reign was enough to solidify her a première spot. I know not where she came from or why Grima recruited her. Regardless, she follows with a blind devotion that would take her to the end of the world and back for her master.
Devoid of her black armor, Marc looks no more out-of-place than any other traveller you may encounter on the roads. It is no wonder Robin had any idea who she truly was.
I wonder if these guards stopped her for some reason. How unfortunate for them that they know nothing of the demon hiding beneath.
Marc stops halfway up the clearing and tilts her head to the side. She plants her spear in the ground and leans forward, drawing a hand over where her eyes peek out from over the large scarf around her neck. "Holy rollie pollies! It's you guys! Look Echo! It's Lucy-lu and her crazy friends!"
My eyes flit to the sky but I see no sign of her mount. "Do not speak my name in such a way," I say in annoyance. Who is she to speak to me so casually?
"Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the timeline! Excuse me Miss Snippy-Snap!"
"Well, this turned out to be a bad idea," Nah moans. She looks none too pleased about discovering who we're facing. I do not blame her ill feelings.
"We can't run now. She'd never let us leave," I reply.
"Yep, you got that right. If you see the enemy, you've got to squash them. That's what My Lady says." Marc pauses. "Well, sort of anyway. There's usually more swearing involved. Blood too, lots of that. And sometimes dismemberment!"
"This is a bad idea. I thinks she's worse than Owain," Nah deflates.
"Of course she's worse! She's evil!" my cousin protests.
"Gosh, sooo rude. Now we really can't be friends," she pouts. "At least this'll make killing you much more fun."
"Did you have fun murdering those poor guards too?" Nah shouts back angrily.
"Guards?" Marc repeats back in confusion.
"Yes! The ones you fed to your stupid wyvern!"
"Okay, first off, he's a dragon, not a wyvern. Why do you all keep assuming that? Look harder! He's got all his legs!They're just kind of tiny and he's really sensitive about them so he hides them under his wings!"
"Anyhoo...where was I?" Marc snaps her fingers. "That's right! I was ranting. Okay! So, secondly, Echo's a vegetarian. He'd never waste his appetite on filthy human bones. And lastly, those weren't guards. They're just some stupid bandits who thought they could take advantage of a poor little girl like me." She lets out a laugh. "Suckers."
Nah and I exchange a look. Dragon? Vegetarian?
"But the armor!" Owaine states in protest. "They are garbed in the cloth of the Feroxi guard!"
"Oh that," Marc says flatly. "I watched them kill the real patrol a few miles back that away," she gesture to the South. "Stole the armor and tried to pass off as guards. They actually attempted to bully me. What morons," she snickers.
"What proof do we have of that?" I say warily.
Marc's head falls back and forth to each side while she taps her foot. "Well you could always go check the bodies where they were left. I wouldn't recommend it though. These bandits even took their small clothes and two of the guards were really old and pruney. Still trying to block that out of my mind. There's just some things a girl should never see, ya know?"
She stops playing with her spear and grips it with both hands. "You know, all this talk is distracting. Didn't I say I was supposed to be killing you awhile back?"
"Actually, I think you said you were going to let us go peacefully," Nah responds hopefully.
Marc just giggles. "Nice try. Still gonna kill you though."
I swiftly pull Falchion from its scabbard, both palms resting comfortably on its hilt. The familiar weight in my hands eases my soul.
Father, as always, watch over me. Guide my hand as you once did during our training. Keep me vigilant. Keep me safe.
Nah moves quietly behind me. I can hear the rustle of her clothing as she reaches for the stone hidden deep within the confines of her skirt. I pray she is ready for she is all we have to protect us should Marc's wyvern...er 'dragon' choose to join his master on the field.
"Three on one, huh?" Marc hums. A smoking purple trail begins to wrap around her left hand. It snakes up the shaft of her spear and warps the steeled edge, blackening it and causing it to smoulder.
"Lucina," Nah whispers in warning behind me.
I watch the spear tip sizzle with dark energy. "I see Nah."
"Be wary, my friends!" Owain's voice is full of bravado but nothing in his demeanor reflects his earlier silliness. His face is stern and both eyes are locked firmly on the enemy before us. His body is taut, ready to snap into motion the moment she moves.
"I hope you don't mind if I even up the odds a little," Marc laughs. "How about some help Echo!"
My eyes fly up to the treetops expecting to see her faithful mount. A coil of apprehension tightens when I see no such sign.
The ground under my boots rumbles deeply. The vibrations feel like they are coming from-
"Behind us," Nah yelps.
I turn quickly and see amber colored reptilian eyes staring straight at us from the depths of the forest. The creature seems to ripple to life. It's as if the shadows themselves are sliding away to reveal the demonic beast hiding underneath.
Echo shakes his head and the effect goes straight to his tail. He leisurely rises to his feet, tail kicking up dry brush as it whips through the dirt to support the weight fluctuation. The head cranes around and he snaps his jaws once revealing the pale glint of teeth in the moonlight. I can't help but note the dried strips of meat hanging from between them. Gods preserve us.
"Alright Echo, let's have some fun."
I whip my head to the side and see Marc streak toward us. In exact timing with his master, her mount's body slithers into action.
"Nah!" I yell out as both Owain and I move opposite ways to avoid Marc's reach.
There's a flash of white that floods into the grove as Nah activates the Dragonstone in her possession. I have little time to admire the array of colors that stream around her small frame and wrap tightly around her expanding form.
There's a shower of prismatic dust as she emerges in full draconian form.
"Over here you ugly dragon wannabe," she taunts, her chiming voice echoes through the small area.
Echo's maws curls into a sneer and lets out a heavy hissing breath. He leaps at Nah and wraps his tail around her body, dragging her into a tumble as they grapple amongst the leaves. I have no time to watch their brawl as Marc rounds on me with an attack.
The spear twists smoothly in her hands as she pivots in my direction. My eyes roam over her body, searching for the trigger signs of her attack pattern. The shift of one heel to the other. The way her wrist flexes just so. The flicker of her eyes to the ground.
Watch.
Analyze.
Counter.
A low attack aimed for my left thigh. She means to maim me and destroy my ability to move.
I snap both wrists down and use the edge of Falchion to catch under the shaft. I push under and up batting the weapon to the side. I quickly reinforce the grip on my one hand while I reach out with the other toward her spear. I try to grab ahold of it to mobilize her weapon but Mark twists on her heel and slip through my grasp easily.
I turn with her and see the spear twirl in her hands until the tip points up. She leans back at a rest on her heel before thrusting forward with her weight, carrying the blade up toward my head. I only have time to take a half step back and bend my spine back to avoid the angle of her attack. The point misses me by a hairsbreadth.
I slip under the spear and to her side where I carry through a quick counter toward her torso. Mark's speed has always been her greatest strength. She quickly follows through her attack with a parry as she lets the spear slip through her hands and drop. Falchion's edge bites into the wood but it only chips at the pole. Her weapon is strong and made from the powerful Bronzewood from the far west. It will take more than that to break it.
From the corner of my eye I see Owain lash out at her. "Have a taste of my BLAZING SWORD!"
Hearing his incoming attack, Marc is alerted well ahead of time to perform an evasive maneuver. The girl spins to the side on tiptoe. Her cloak spins around her like a dancer's skirt as she pirouettes away from my cousin's blade.
Marc twirls and then hops to a graceful landing. "Ooooo, so close!" She laughs loudly. "NOT."
Owain raises his sword once more and settles into a defensive stance. "What astounding agility! I expect no less, my fiendish rival!" he declares.
"Fiendish? That makes me sound so creepy. I prefer cute and mischievous," Marc counters.
"OW! You JERK!"
I find myself distracted by Nah's irritated shouting. Though she has Echo pinned under her weight, he has managed to wrap his long tail around her left wing. They engage in a tug of war as she tries to dislodge him while he tugs away.
"Lucina! Dodge left!"
My body moves before I can mentally register my cousin's yell of warning. Marc rushes past me with her weapon, our bodies separated only by the smallest of spaces. It is in this moment that I catch the briefest glimpse of her face.
Two eyes gaze back at me over the edge of her scarf. Two large and youthful human eyes.
Something about that realization makes my blood run cold. Marc is no monster. She is a human girl, just as mortal as I.
Marc senses my hesitation and flips the weapon in her hands. She delivers a blow to my ribs with the blunt end of her spear. Pain blossoms in my chest and spreads throughout my bones as I stumble back. I bite back on the urge to cry out and brush the haze of pain away to steady myself.
"Cousin!"
Owain cuts in between us with a wide swing meant to throw space between Marc and I. The rider falls for his seemingly clumsy attack and casually hops away. My cousin moves into motion and tightens his form. He rounds into a second attack that pulls the tip of his sword within inches her face.
Marc's recovery is astounding and she just prevents the blade from digging into her face with a desperate parry on her spear's shaft. A good attempt but futile. This is only blow two of five.
Owain's sword style is different from my own, a hybrid of his own creation. His early training may have been of the same origin as other royals, but his fascination with other sword styles has led him to dabble with other disciplines. It's led to a unique style that combines quick footwork with a rapid succession of blows that come together in one long chain. Even if he should never land a blow, the sheer repetitive force behind them will easily throw his opponent off guard.
His thin blade becomes a blur as he pushes Marc back under a flurry of follow-up blows. Unable to catch her footing, she is on the defensive.
In a desperate attempt at escape, Marc thrusts her spear into the ground. A deluge of purple swirls into the dirt and stirs the darkness. The blackness of Owain's shadow gathers together and climbs up his boot. He nearly pitches forward when his ensnared foot holds him back. Owain tugs but the shadows stretch and then snap back, holding him fast.
"What foul devilry is this?" he yells in alarm as he tugs futilely against the spell's restraint.
I sprint to his side and drive Falchion into the inky mass. I feel the metal reverberate under my touch and the blackness quivers. It stretches out and then draws in together, shrivelling up until it is no more.
"Thanks Lucina," Owain says gratefully as he pulls free. His look of relief turns to fear when he looks at me. Before he can utter a word, I feel a piercing chill slide up my spine.
Something constricts about my neck and grows tighter by the second. I grasp at my neck with one hand and feel nothing despite the increasing chill.
What is...What is this? I can barely breathe!
My eyes flit to the side. Marc is leaning heavily on her spear. Her free hand is outstretched and open palmed. The purple glow about it funnels into the ground and stretches up to where we stand. Whatever dark magic she's using has ensnared us.
My vision flickers as it gets harder to breathe. Owain attempts to intervene but the shadows shoot out and wrap not just around his foot this time but both of his arms. His sword falls from his hand as he is pulled to his knees. Before he can speak, another tendril wraps around his face, obstructing both his nose and mouth.
Panic is beginning to seep in. Not just for me but for my cousin. I just need to think! How can I escape this?! I just have to...Gods, my head is spinning. Without air I cannot focus!
"Lucina! Owain! Hold on!"
Nah tries to make her way over to us but Echo launches himself off the ground at her. His jaw wraps around her neck and pulls her down, reversing their positions. Her pained cry ignites something in me I have not felt in a long while.
Fear.
"I was having fun..." Marc pants out, "but then you had to get serious, didn't you? I don't like it when people surprise me. And I especially don't like it when they get the upper hand."
The spell she's invoking is certainly straining her but the power behind it does not let up. She flexes her hand and everything intensifies.
A strangled cry is squeezed out of me as the spell around my throat tightens to unbearable lengths. My whole body goes numb under the burning cold that seeps into it. My fingers slacken and I'm vaguely aware that Falchion has slipped from my grasp.
I-I can't! This can't be real. This isn't...No. No!
Naga please!
I'm shivering from the cold and shaking as I gasp for air. Everything is spiraling away and I don't...
The feeling in my body is sliding away. I'm not sure if I can even move my lungs anymore. It's so cold...
Father...I'm so sorry...I...
Through my muffled senses I hear someone yell in pain. All the pressure on my body instantaneously disappears and I collapse.
Breathe, Lucina! Breathe! Open your mouth and breathe!
My body shakes as warmth begins to creep through my skin. I try to blink away the spots in front of my eyes. Through the haze in the pale light I can see a long thin object protruding from Marc's shoulder. An arrow?
The high keen of another arrow pierces the air and I feel something whistle past. Though in considerable pain, Marc somehow manages to raise her spear and bat aside the incoming projectile.
Twigs snap as two figures emerge from the woods behind us. Obscured by heavy cloaks, I can only guess by their height and stature that it may be a man and a woman. I note that the design on their outer wear is near identical to that which the city guards of Regna Ferox wear. Patrolmen?
The smaller one walks protectively before the taller one, a bow held taut with arrow notched. They carry the bow with practiced ease and I see no waver in their arms as they hold it steady for another shot.
"Hail travelers! Regna Ferox comes offering its aid!" The taller one says cheerfully. His masculine tone confirms one of my suspicions. I note that he uses a walking stick to move carefully behind the smaller.
"Can we save the greetings for later?" his companion states with a feminine voice.
"Well this isn't fair," I hear Marc whine through heavy breaths. She's masking her pain well but there's a definite strain to her voice. "Now there's five of you? I could maybe take the three of you on one-handed but not this many. How rude!"
She whistles shrilly through her teeth. "Echo!"
The dragon(?) swivels his head in her direction, momentarily turning away from Nah. She takes the opportunity and reels back to let out a ferocious blast. The attack hits the beast straight on and the air fills with the scent of smoke and charred wood.
A reptilian screech bursts through the air, followed by the flap of wings. Dust blows outward as the black reptile takes flight. There are heavy scorch marks travelling down his white underbelly and smoke is still rising from where he was hit.
Echo curves and swoops down at us in reckless abandon. He glides just inches over our heads, pushing us down under the rush of air that follows him. The mysterious woman lets loose her arrow but it goes wide under the current.
With a quick snatch of the hind claws, Marc is picked up off the ground. Her mount lurches up and gives another flap of his wings for an extra burst of momentum. With a final roar, both mount and rider disappear in a hasty retreat.
"Ancestors be damned! I was this close!" Our female savior is the first to recover. She slams a heel into the ground and swears colorfully in disappointment.
"Easy sister, we've done plenty good today. Take comfort in that," her companion says as he attempts to soothe her temper.
She grunts and brushes off the hand he's placed on her shoulder. "I'd have even more peace of mind if I'd been able to bury an arrow in her gut." She meanders over to the discarded remains of the alleged bandits and kicks at one of the limbs with her toe. "At least she took care of these dirty knaves. Spirits dishonor their bones." She spits on the remains then turns away toward us.
"You two and your dragon friend still alive over there?" the young woman calls out to us. As she walks to us, she fastens the bow around her shoulder before finally removing her hood.
Her long dark hair is fashioned in an array of numerous braids, each woven together with a different brightly colored ribbon. The moonlight reveals a pale face touched heavily with cosmetics. A dark ochre blends around her brown eyes making them even darker. A matching tinted balm on her lips brings the whole color scheme together. There's something oddly familiar about her but I cannot seem to understand why.
Owain is the next to rise. He fumbles his sword into its sheath before shakily rising to his feet to greet the woman. "Well met my good friends! Your timely appearance could not have come at a more fortuitous time! It is because of your brave and true aim that we have escaped unscathed, uh, mostly anyhow, on this most fateful eve!"
"Uh huh. Right," she grunts, eyeing him harshly.
The grove flashes as Nah returns to her human form. She looks bruised but otherwise whole. She bustles to my side and helps me up by my arm.
"Are you two alright?"
"Fear not Nah! The Champions of Naga have pulled through!" Owain states with a weak smile. I notice he is heavily favoring one leg. I hope he is not injured too badly.
"Champions of Naga. My, that's certainly a name to boast."
The woman's companion steps toward us from his place in the back. I notice that every so often he taps the ground a tad harder with his walking stick, as if testing his path for something.
The man pulls back his own hood, revealing a similar looking face to the girl he claims as his sister. Both carry the same sharp, angular faces and broad noses. That is to say he doesn't has his own distinguishing features. His blonde hair is messily tied back, almost white in the moonlight. While she scowls, he carries a more relaxed expression.
Most intriguing about him is the fact that not once has he opened his eyes. From the way he carries his walking stick and the fact that he does not turn to a speaker until after they have spoken has led me to surmise that he very well may be blind.
Realizing that I am gawking awkwardly, I avert my eyes away. I'm not sure why there's such a familiar feeling persisting but I try to suppress it for the time being.
"Whoever you guys are, you're lucky we were tracking this kid. Another minute and Naga would have been finding some new chosen ones," the brunette woman speaks.
"You were tracking her?" I ask as I return to my feet. Why in the heavens would they be specifically tracking Marc of all people?
The girl freezes up but her brother steps in. "We were there to witness some murders she was involved in concerning our kinsmen. We've been following her in an attempt to track her and deliver a bout of justice for our fallen brethren."
"That's odd," I note. "She claimed to have no involvement in the slaying of your guards. The fault was of these bandits you see here in the grove."
"Who said we were trying to avenge just them?" the archer retorts. She gets another oblong glance of disapproval from her companion that silences her.
"And you would believe the word of one who nearly killed you only minutes before? You must trust me when I say that this girl is far more than she seems."
You need not tell me. I am personally aware of the extent of her cruelty. The question is how do you?
Before I can inquire further, my cousin strides forward and boldly grasps the other man's in a gesture of goodwill. "We believe you my timely savior and we gratefully accept your assistance. The mighty forces of Ylisse will remember this and it will only strengthen the bonds between us and our majestic allies of the North!"
"Regna Ferox and Ylisse aren't allies," the girl states, giving us an odd look.
Owain! You are so daft!
I try to ignore the weak feeling in my limbs as I walk over to my cousin and pry him off the stranger. "As of tonight they are. Word travels fast in the city," I say quickly.
"I'm sure it does," the man responds with strained cheer.
The air has lost its friendly feeling. Suddenly there's an odd sensation, as if both parties have suddenly become wary of the other. The silence is heavy.
Nah walks up between Owain and I and begins to pull us backward by our sleeves. "We should really get going you two. I really don't want to be here anymore and I'm sure these two want to deal with their friends' burials."
Owain blinks, confused at the sudden change in atmosphere. "Oh. I guess that makes sense. Lucina?"
He looks to me for my answer but I can't seem to shake this ever-growing feeling. There's something about these two that bothers me. It is not a sensation of danger. It's more like a familiar feeling. It is as if I am trying to remember the names of old acquaintances.
The sister elbows her brother. "That's actually a good idea. We need to attend to business too."
The man recovers and pulls on a kind face. "Ah, how unfortunate, but you are right. One moment though!"
He reaches behind him and his free hand fishes around in a hanging pouch at his belt. His face changes to one of concentration as he digs through the contents. He finally extracts a bottle. Running his thumb over the shape of the bottle, he seems content with his find.
"This is a potent healing salve from the northern straits. I am not sure how far-ranging your injuries are but take this as a sign of parting between us. I would prefer to stay and see to your potential wounds personally but my sister is right. We must travel on. There is a matter of importance we must attend to."
He holds the bottle out before him in no particular direction toward anyone. I step forward and take the gift. He gives a friendly smile when I retrieve it.
It's in that exact moment that I finally realize it.
I know that face.
It's the same one Sir Kellam would always have whenever he would visit and give me the rock candy his village was famous for. It's unmistakable!
Wait.
But that's...that's impossible!
This man is clearly not Sir Kellam, and yet he holds such a strong familial resemblance to him.
It cannot be one of his brothers. This man has openly called the other his sister and Sir Kellam has no female kin of that sort. Nor would these two be among his nieces or nephews due to their advanced age. I do not recall mention of cousins in Regna Ferox either.
Perhaps I am merely imagining this? It is simply a trick of the moon and my mind's own folly?
"Brother! We need to go if we want to stay on schedule!" the girl protests impatiently.
"I'm well aware," he says calmly. "Forgive us, but we must move on. Friendly advice from a few veteran guardsmen, stay to the roads. The wilds can hide more than imaginable though I think today's little adventure has proved that." He goes to continue speaking but his sister steps in front of him.
"Let me make this short and sweet. What my brother is saying is be smart and stay safe. Don't go chasing shadows in the night. That's the easiest way to get yourselves killed," his sister blurts out.
"Tactful as always," he sighs. "There is a small town only a few miles east of here. Find the inn and recover. If you still have a ways to travel then stick to daylight." The girl begins to walk away and he looks panicked. "Apologies once more for the abrupt departure but you should be alright for now. Safe travels!"
He checks the area around his feet with his staff before slowly moving after the girl. She waits with a bored look for him to catch up. She gives a final half-hearted wave to us before the two of them disappear back into the treeline.
Owain starts to laugh. "What a wonderous chance that we've had to meet heroes as talented as us!" He then rubs one of his wrists and gives a sheepish look to the skies. "It would have been a lot more grand without the near death experience though."
"And whose fault is that?" Nah states disapprovingly as she crosses her arms. "This is why we don't go charging into the darkness chasing whatever fancy you have Owain!"
"You'd rather we have walked away and ignored our duty as heroes?"
Nah's frown falters. "N-no. But I don't like dying either. We should have been more careful. Instead of shouting out, we should have watched first!"
Now Owain looks upset. "What if that hesitation prevents us from saving someone? When a person's life hangs in the balance, every second counts!"
"Enough you two. We can worry about the semantics of our battle plan later. I think it best to do as those two said and make our way out of the woods. We've endured enough for the eve and should recover," I order.
Both of them stare at each other and then nod to me silently. This argument may be over for now but I'm most certain I'll hear of this again tomorrow.
We leave behind the nightmarish scene and make our way back to the road. Only a few minutes down we can see the first glimmers of the town flickering between the hills. It will still take some time to get there but the roads are clear and we will hopefully not be inconvenienced again.
I wonder if we should report the bodies to the proper officials when we arrive. No doubt it would raise questions though and we are trying to keep as low a profile as we can. I can only assume those two guards will handle the business.
The thought of those two brings up that sense of uneasiness again. I'm still in denial of my earlier thoughts, despite the uncanny resemblance. But no matter how hard I try to push away the idea, it continues to linger just outside the realm of my mind.
Oddly enough, I have a feeling that will not be the last time we see those two.
A/N: So, uh, yeah. Things got dark real fast didn't they? I'm a horrible author...Feel free to throw some eggs at me. I deserve it.
If there's any errors, forgive me. I wrote this while heavily sedated with Nyquil and Inhaler Fumes. I'm better now thankfully so there's some silver lining in that. Anyway, Happy Late Canada Day to my Canadian readers and Happy Fourth of July to my American ones. And good luck to all the World Cup countries!
Reader Reviews -
LovelyThorn - Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you thought the twist was good. I was sweating bullets thinking people would think it boring. The story is definitely going places and I hope you like the further developments. That includes the pairings too!
A Shadow's Lament - Thanks for the well wishes. Use Rose if you want, though I have no preference :)
Yeah, I feel horrible for poor Lucina. I think there's a special writer's hell created just for me after putting her through this. I hate it cause I love her so much as a character. Give all the hugs as needed.
I can't talk about Male Morgan yet. So I'm going to be frustratingly vague and say you'll have to wait and see!
Luciz - Very good theories. I like them :) Umineko no Naku Koro ni you say? Good God, that whole series brings back memories. Horribly painful and delicious memories.
OneShotMasta - When you stand around baking cookies for four of your eight hours at work, you have lots of time to plan things. So yes, I do have a whole timeline written out. Eleven actually but I hope I never have to right about those ones, ha ha. Robin's whole arc is written out. It's only the minor things like couples and whatnot I didn't touch. Sometimes I like seeing where writing takes me. And sometimes I upload the entire cast to the Sims 3 and see who wants to date who (Kellam/Raimi).
DeathChaos25 - Lucina's definitely under a bit more stress here than in the game, if this chapter didn't hammer that point home. She's been through...a lot. And she's only got more fun to go through. I'm a wonderful person ):
I like the idea of a tiny chef Morgan. Or a tiny tactician chef. Death by Cream Puff. I like this very much.
If Robin is ever left alone with Owain, she going to turn him into a meme machine. She's going to teach him every anime power pose ever. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure...Dragon Ball Z...sky's the limit. Poor Lissa.
Raven Tsurara - Yeah, there's a lot more to this story than meets the eye. There are some major mysteries at hand that do make things confusing but that is the point, being a mystery and all. When the revelations come to light, everything gets clearer. Not necessarily for the better, but at least it's now known. So many questions and so many possibilities!
Thanks for continually being attentive for errors. In this case, I did mean 'tool.' It's a bit of an old slang that means someone who is easily used. Alternatively, it can mean in general someone foolish or stupid.
LeonPianta - Aw, thanks. I was aiming for a sense of concern and apprehension. Now allow me to sweat nervously since I've revealed that some of the children are...MIA right now. Sweat nervously and cry because I'm a horrible person for writing such. Cross your fingers for a better future.
Ruu - Thanks for pointing out the spelling error. Auto correct needs to die a flaming death.
I'm avoiding describing any of the Morgans when they appear because they have elements of their dad in them I want to incorporate, but considering the identity is still a mystery...I'm staying mum for now. I did note the darker hair on them though myself. I actually have toyed with making a similar shade as my Robin's hair color to match that and the official art.
I think Owain's literal name was "Wood" in Japan. I would love to see him trying to imitate being a tree. Maybe when trying to be stealthy XD
Hope your vacation goes well!
Jenna Riedell - Oh ho! Another Miriel/Vaike fan? High five! (No story pun intended)
I like your couples ideas. Not sure if they'll be implemented given I'm narrowing down the list of couples but I would love more ideas for Say'ri. I want Chon'sin babies :I
Thank you for the lovely compliments!
Guesty - Ha, ha! Thank you. And yes, that's a TV Tropes reference! I live and breathe that site to no end. Troper for life! Some of my favorite fics actually come from the fan fic recommendation pages. Bless that site to no end.
xXShurikenXx - Please take as much time for your story as needed. I'll still be waiting patiently for another chapter! I just have no life thus I spend a lot of time typing. Sunlight? What is that?
Yes, biiiig plot twist. And there will be many wrenches, hammers, and electric drills thrown in for good measure. The girls are in for a ride.
Haaa, that Chapter 11 in the game. I was bent on marrying that little weirdo Henry. Guess who said otherwise? At least I finally managed to get Cynthia in the game.
Anyway, that you for the insight! Besides the obviously bubbly feelings, it's good insight into my writing progress. As to your thoughts, yes I dig Lon'qu for the same reason: Travis Willingham. Dat voice B( And don't worry about Miriel. Just channel your inner science nerd. I wrote some practice drabbles to get in her head and once you find it, it's golden.
And yes, if you find any errors, feel free to PM me. No harm taken because it only helps me out in the end!
Good luck with Chapter 3!
CrimsonHeresy - Yes, it's a very messy time loop. Sorry if this is totally ignorant sounding but what is Continuum Shift? A movie? Sounds sci-fi.
Cripes, is that a BlazBlue reference I spy?
Mark-Kris Robin - You were on a ferry? Super jealous. That sounds relaxing.
Thanks for the bombastic compliment. :D I personally wouldn't mind growing old and mixing reality with fanfics. At least you'll have some great shock values to the stories. "So I was rear ended. When I confronted the driver I WHIPPED OUT MY LIGHTSABER AND WE DUELED IN RAGE!" Cue confused faces. Priceless.