Disclaimer - I don't own Fire Emblem. All of its properties belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

Warnings for violence and mild gore.

Chapter 12

It's dark out.

The moon is nearly non-existant overhead leaving the world in a suffering darkness. I grew up where the lights of your community are so strong they can block out even the stars themselves. Everything is always bathed in color and sound. Here, when the moon disappears in its lunar cycle, your only friend is fire. So when the tent flap closes, the lantern snuffed, and the trees overhead block out the stars, the blackness of night is ever-present and utterly stifling.

Even with everyone's tents so close together, it seems like I'm alone.

I feel it more so than ever when my eyes snap open sometime well into my sleep. I lay on my side, staring at the canvas. Constricted in my blankets and struggling to adjust to the blackness, there's a heaviness that weighs on my chest. I just can't seem to make my limbs move no matter how hard I try.

I hear nothing from the outside besides the occasional chirp of a cricket. Everyone must have retired for the night. The silence makes everything so much more definite.

Somehow, I manage to breathe. It's a long breath that booms in the small space of my tent.

My heart beats and I sweat nervously. "Something has awoken you," my mind tells me.

I want to turn my head but I can't. Is it fear that restricts my ability to move, or is it the strange numbness that has seeped into my bones? Despite lying under my bed roll and a heavy woolen blanket, a deep-seated cold has drifted in and taken ahold of me. I feel a twitch in my jaw that signals the urge to let my teeth chatter. I need my coat.

I somehow will myself to move. My body twists and I roll on to my back.

Feral, savage eyes stare down at me.

My heart stops. I try to scream but the sound lodges in my throat.

There's a Risen in my tent.

I'm paralyzed and can't move. So I lie in the darkness locked in a staring match with those bloody irises burning into my soul. Its head moves lethargic-like from left to right as if observing me curiously. The features of its face are mostly obscured by shadows but the profile is unmistakable.

It moves.

Joints creak and there's a stiffness to the way it sinks to its knees. The rank odor of decay assaults my senses. I can see the flabs of skin hanging off the skeletal arms. One of those same arms lifts and stretches a gnarled hand toward me.

I should be running. I should be fighting. I should be doing something! God damn it! Why can't I move. Oh God! It's going to touch me isn't it? Go away!

I flinch as the vile sensation of dead skin touches my own.

What in the hell? What? I can't even...

There's no pain or violence or animosity. The cold tips of its fingers touch the corner of my face. Slowly, they trail the length of it until it gathers at the bottom edge of my cheek. Its thumb catches the underside of my chin and rubs it leisurely, a lover's caress.

I feel sick.

The Risen's form shutters as it leans in ever closer. The face is only inches from mine. I try to tear my eyes away from its disfigured features but fear binds me. I'm trapped in my own skin. God, please! Somebody...

The jawbone cracks as it unhinges. It shifts back and forth, teeth clacking together. The cold, fetid breath hits my face and the revolting smell curls my stomach. I can barely make out thin, blue lips stretching. They continue to grow and form into a grotesque parody of a smile. Broken and rotted teeth flash at me from underneath the grin.

It lets out a heavy, rattling breath. The lips move, cracking and drawing a thick ooze of black liquid to flow down the corners.

"FOUnD...yOu..."

My mind breaks.

"SHIT!"

I throw myself from my bedroll. I faceplant in the dirt as the blankets tangle around me. I feel like screaming as I desperately try to unwrap myself. I kick and claw at the material until I free myself and scuttle back into one of the corner support poles. My chest rises and falls in rapid heaves while I search the room for the Risen.

Nothing.

That's impossible! It was right there! I know it was.

I get on my knees and get ready to dash for the exit while searching for the monster. I look into every corner, but all I see is the disheveled remains of my sleeping corner and the line of possessions I knocked over in my retreat.

"Where...?" I say to myself in disbelief.

My heart rate begins to drop a little as my mind starts to accept that I may actually be alone. I stagger over to the tent's entrance and pop my head out. The fire pit smolders and the circle of tents around me remain undisturbed in the night.

I fall back and head to my bedroll, dropping into the messy nest. I sit cross-legged and stare silently into the dark. I'm so on edge that I don't dare allow the feelings of relief to take ahold of me just yet. The reality is that I just had a horrible nightmare. The emptiness I share with my tent is evidence of that.

I just can't shake how realistic it felt though. Squinting in the dark, I sift through my discarded outer garments to find my coat. Digging it out, I open it to the inside and grab out my map. I smooth out the paper on my lap and then run my hand over the top of it. It take me a little longer to find the new fire tome Miriel lent, but I manage to dig that up too. I flip to the simple lighting spell and my hands trace the familiar pattern that conjures a wisp like flame in my palm.

The tiny flame dances merrily in my hand and brings a warm glow to the tiny area, easing the weighty pressure on my chest. I hold the light aloft and gaze over the immediate area. My marker sits alone in the tent, surrounded by the others. With the exception of Lissa crashing in her brother's tent tonight, everyone else is alone and undisturbed in their own spaces. There's not a single red speck anywhere around us, let alone my tent.

It really was just some horrible nightmare.

"You're such a nerd Robin," I say to myself in disgust. Man. If this is what Sully's cooking does to me, I think I'll just starve next time.

My body may have returned to normal but my nerves are still jittered. There's no way I'm going back to sleep after that lovely scare. I sure as hell don't want to be in here any longer either. The lingering shade of the Risen still clings to the corners of the tent making me less inclined to stay. I haphazardly throw on enough to keep me decent and then exit out into the night.

The silhouettes of the other tents are somehow comforting as I sluggishly walk to the fire pit. Maybe it's because of the dream, but I find myself now starved for human company. It's a stark contrast to the last week or so of travel. Ever since that night I spoke with Lucina, I've been so withdrawn from the group.

It's a combination of many different elements. Homesickness, the Plegian accusations, Lucina's revelations about this world's predicament...It's a brutal emotional overload. Maybe, if I were the real Robin with all the heroic fixings and whatnot, things would be easier to handle.

But I'm not. I'm just me.

There's not a heroic thing about me. I'm a baker for cripe's sake! All I do in my spare time is eat, blow up pixels, and collect greeting cards with google eyes. I mean, are you really going to leave the fate of a world in the hands of a woman who thinks Schlitz is the best beer ever?

The only right answer to that is no.

I walk to one of the logs that had been dragged over for seating around the pit. I plunk down and stare at the dying embers. There's a ghost of a chill still hanging to my skin so I conjure a tiny flame and flick it with my forefinger into the wood. It sputters and flares weakly. With resigned sign, I drag my lazy ass up and throw some kindle on before topping the hungry flames with more logs. With the fire now fueled, I putz back on over to my seat. I rest my chin on my palm and watch the flames grow.

I feel...I don't know what I feel anymore. Especially lately. I've been just kind of hollow. Lucina's words didn't even really sink in until the next morning. I woke and it sort of just hit me.

Robin is a bad guy. She and Grima are missing. And Lucina is the only one who realizes that everyone is stuck in some sort of twisted time warp that changes every time. Someone should never have picked Lunatic mode for this playthrough.

And to top it off, there's other weird junk going down that she's probably not even aware of. I can't wait to explain all of that. This is so frustrating. I don't even know what to do anymore.

My negativity's manifested into my day-to-day procedures. The stress of everything is just weighing me down. I don't feel anywhere near my usual self. I've withdrawn from the others and keep to myself on the march. I try to feign interest in Miriel's lessons and have adopted a silent learning angle to Frederick's sword exercises.

My new attitude hasn't gone unnoticed. Sumia was the first to note my absence of cheer and has been subtly trying to draw a smile from me since. I think she might have told someone because soon after I noticed a shift in people's attention toward me. Everyone's got to being too nice or too careful with me, like I'm made of glass. Of course this just got me more angry than anything and I shut out everyone all together. In hindsight, that was incredibly stupid of me. I should be thankful that these people care about my wellbeing. I'm just so emotionally compromised right now.

At the same time, being alone sucks. Especially in times like these where you just want to vent. Then again, describing a dream about a Risen being perversely interested in me is not the kind of thing you talk about with just anyone. Still it would be nice to complain about it. Seriously. It's been several years since I've had a person of interest in my life and my subconscious is getting so desperate it's fantasizing about Risen? Consider me screwed.

I rub an eye with the back of my hand. I feel tired but not enough to want to sleep again. It's a backwards sensation.

Feeling bored, I fish out my map from my coat again. I brush the top to life and stare at the grid. It's exactly the same aside from a lone blue dot heading my way. I poke it and Miriel's portrait appears. I thought she was slated for guard duty. She's probably curious as to why someone's up at this hour. I don't blame her.

The sound of her footsteps get closer. I lean back and let my head fall to watch her walk up. Her typical look of neutrality wavers when she sees it's me.

"Robin," she greets. There's a softer tone to her otherwise seemingly apathetic vocals. "A fair eve to you."

"Hey Miriel. How's it hanging?" I reply dully.

"Such a quaint vernacular," she comments as she walks around the log. Miriel straightens out the long cloak that wraps around her and takes a seat beside me, drawing her legs in. "It is hanging most well."

She pulls a book out from the confines of her skirt and flips to a bookmarked section in the middle. Miriel adjusts her glasses, causing them to glint in the firelight. Her forefinger traces the page before tapping lightly on the paper.

"What is shaking my bacon?"

I stare at her. "What now?"

"Hm...Perhaps I misinterpreted that." Miriel looks down again at her book. "Yo. What is up my hoe-mee d-rizzle?"

"Uh."

I suddenly realize what she's doing. I crunch up my face in disbelief. She's trying to imitate my speech pattern. I know she was interested in my, uh, unique vocal expressions but it's not like we're speaking another language here. Sheesh. Miriel and slang to not mix well.

"Okay, never say that last one again. I did that only to piss off Frederick. I don't actually say that. No one does. Not unless they have a social death sentence."

"Kay-oh," she replies blankly while giving me a thumb's up.

I do a legitimate double face palm. "Miriel. Please stop. Talk like you normally do."

The mage looks dejected as she closes the book and puts it to the side. "My sincerest apologies. It was not my intent to instill of sense of disrespect. I had only wished to speak on more familiar plane. I had surmised that perhaps hearing a dialect more akin to your own would 'raise your spirits," so to say. An incorrect speculation it seems."

I let out a light snort. "You think I'm homesick?"

"Affirmative. It is a symptomatic trait commonly found among those who have been erratically displaced from their home culture and exposed to a foreign one with little time for proper acclimation. I had hoped to ease the feeling but have failed to do so. My understanding of your linguistic patterns is still shallow. Once again, I must apologize if any offense has been made."

I look off to the side sheepishly and bump my shoulder against hers in a friendly push. "It's fine Miriel. Thanks. I appreciate the thought."

She nods. "You are most welcome. It is disconcerting to see a fellow comrade so withdrawn. I am worried."

Jeez, laying on the feels heavy, aren't ya? I'm tripping all the way to Guiltsville. I wish to the high heavens I could talk about this with you Miriel, but I can't. There's just too much at risk in doing so. I feel so crummy for doing this to everyone.

I let out a heavy sigh that comes from deep within. "Sorry. It's just something I have to deal with right now. I'll get over it. I just need time."

Miriel watches me with sympathetic eyes. "Understandable. Should a change of mind take place, I am more than willing to converse with you. A sound mind is important not just to one's studies."

The corner of my mouth quirks up. "Thanks. The same goes for you too, if you ever need to vent or something. I'm also really good at providing advice on ways to prank a guy if you're in the mood for a slice of revenge."

The woman adjusts her hat with both hands, her face suddenly growing harder. "Duly noted. I believe I have a handle on my matters however."

Yeah, that situation with Vaike and her is certainly something. Miriel's mixture of the classic silent treatment mixed with a hint of cold shoulder is driving him insane. The man's usual arrogance and high-spirited boasting has been missing the past few days. Every time Miriel ignores his attempts at reconciliation, he gets this kicked puppy look.

I had originally assumed Miriel and Vaike were at the acquaintance level all the Shepherds start off at in the beginning of the game. After spending time with them these weeks, I've realized that isn't necessarily the case. The two interact on a far more friendly basis and work almost flawlessly as a team in battle. It's like they've started the story already at an A-rank level. Clearly there's a deeper history that's developed between these two long before I came.

It's not just those two either. I've noticed that many of the Shepherds interact a lot more personally than I would have assumed. Minus the romantic edge, Sully and Stahl are as tight as peas in a pod. I've caught Lissa and Frederick already doing the infamous relaxation lessons. I'm not even going to comment on the bizarre sparring sessions Chrom and Vaike have. It's like watching two strange birds during a mating ritual. Two strange but incredibly hot and sweaty masculine birds dancing around. Mm...

...

Snap. What was I doing again?

Right! Talking. Miriel! Yep.

Actually, now that I thing about it, should I be talking with her?

"Miriel, aren't you supposed to be on watch right now?" I say in sudden alarm.

"My rotation has ended. It has fallen upon Stahl to take up the next shift."

I breath in relief. "Oh, good. I thought I might be distracting you somehow." I pick at the corner of the map in my lap while I briefly peek at it. Still devoid of any hostile marks.

Miriel notices the parchment as well and leans in. She cocks her head in curiosity. "This is the tactician map I have heard much of," she states. "I must say that I am highly curious. May I observe it in action?"

"Sure. Be prepared for some disappointment though. It's not like I know much about it." I readjust my sitting position by shifting my whole body at an angle that draws us closer together. Miriel copies my actions and peers down at it with hungry eyes that only a scholar could have.

"Demonstrate the basics of its functions, if you will."

I poke and prod the paper, showing her what I know. She gets a passive expression and her eyes squint slightly as she takes in how the map changes from an inked grid to information hub. I show off how it can move freely and take in an area several miles wide when pulled out to its highest limit. She then conducts her own experiments. Even though the image blinks out under her touch, Miriel continues to play with it.

She holds it this way and that, pressing it to her knees and then up to the fire. Miriel then extracts a weathered tome and opens it in her lap. For several minutes she switches between both it and the miniature one at her side. Her fingers weave symbols and they glow brightly before the fluttering map in her occupied hand. It may be my imagination, but sometimes I think I see a flicker of something across the wizened paper.

I watch in fascination for the length of her experimentation. As a novice mage, and someone who's been ignorant to magic for her whole life, watching a master one at work is astonishing. She moves with such acute precision as she casts.

Unlike the games, Miriel is able to actually cast without a proper tome. It's a rare gift that only prodigies and the oldest of spell casters have mastered.

Magic, I was told, is wild and a part of nature itself. Her mother spent many years researching the origin of magic and its connection to people. Miriel kind of lost me in the scientific jargon pertaining to the experiments, but it boiled down to her mother theorizing that it is an invisible force that exists everywhere around us. It's some sort of life-force tied to the planet and everything around it. Whether it be the trees or rivers or people themselves, it flows through them all. I guess it's sort of like gravity? Always there but never tangible.

So allegedly, because it is so unpredictable and otherworldly, it's hard to control. A large portion of her mother's research was focused on a human being's connection with the stream of magic that we can tap into. While all people apparently have the ability to use it, only some seem to have the proper ability to do so. And then, even amongst them, only a few can wield it to the fullest of extents. There was some theorizing going on in genetic backgrounds affecting one's fluency but her mother passed on before it could be concluded.

Either way, an observation from long ago found that magic could be contained on a level field by emotion and a control object. When a mage applied mental images or strong feelings to a spell, it became easier to invoke. Over the years the incantation process was refined and streamlined into spell tomes. Tomes are easy tools that help channel a student's control through the use of emotional phrasing and provocative imagery. Depending on the strength and intended uses, the spell fluctuated. Students would then learn to spell out with specific words to invocake an even stronger connection with the magic, summoning it forth easier.

So the point of the story is, Miriel is magical genius. Her complete control over her emotions and magic handling makes her one of the few able to pull from the magic stream without the need of a tome to stabilize her. It doesn't stop her from carrying one into battle for speedier results, but it does come in handy for times like now when she wants to perform with both hands free.

If anyone had asked me whether I would ever fangirl in my life over Miriel, I would have laughed in their face. Now, I grovel before her magical prowess. I could only dream of reaching her ability.

"How curious."

Miriel's voice cuts into my wide-eyed admiration. She finishes the last of her spell and hands off the map to me once more.

"You have a relic of substantial power Robin."

"A relic?" I question as I take it back. I flip it around and stare at the parchment. It doesn't look that old. Yellowed, but not ancient.

Miriel busies herself with putting away her books. "Yes. There is a powerful ward on that paper that I had great trouble deciphering. The runes fused along it are not of our era's modern linguistics. They are part of an archaic system that has since evolved from its roots."

"How old are we talking here?"

"Perhaps the era of King Marth? Some of the runes predate that to a time when perhaps even Naga walked the land. It is hard to tell when so little written evidence has survived."

"That's...actually kind of cool," I say in awe as I stare at the simple sheet. This thing's got a history to it. I wonder how Robin got ahold of it. "Do you think it may be a family heirloom of some sort?" I throw out.

Miriel regards the map with a thoughtful look. "I estimate the probability of it being so is fifty percent. Some of the runes on the ward look to be altered and changed. They have been crafted to respond to only those of your family's blood."

"I guess that explains why only I can make it work," I say as I brush my hands over the paper. "Out of curiosity, what's your other theory?"

Her eyes flit up to mine and I see something change in them. "The grammatical rearrangement of these runes is much more modern than what is to be expected from such a time. Expertly done too, I may add."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you are far more fluent in magic than you are letting on," she says quietly.

I rub the corners of the map in my fingers as I stare down at it. There's certainly a possibility of that being the case. Not me of course! I mean other Robin. She could have been tampering with this well until she, er, disappeared. How, I have no idea? Of course I can't tell that to Miriel. So if she thinks I did it, I can't deny it.

"Miriel I-" My voice trails off. You can hear the desperation in it. Honestly, I just don't know what to say anymore.

The mage breaks eye contact and looks away into the distance. She looks serious as she speaks. "You have been lying for some time, Robin. To what extent, I know not. But it has been evident since we met that there are some topics you have chosen to hide. Others times, you purposely divert our colloquy unto other matters when broaching personal matters. Understandable given what some of the recent evidence has insinuated."

There's a bitter taste in my mouth. So she did know all along that something was wrong. I guess she was just being nice back in Regna Ferox with that whole "maybe, maybe not" lecture.

"So. What are you going to do then? Do we need to have another group intervention on why or why not I should be a Shepherd," I say drearily.

Miriel considers me with a careful expression and grows quiet. For a few seconds, all I hear is the sounds of the night as both of us dwell on her words.

"Do you see how the flames waver there, Robin?" she says suddenly. Miriel gestures to it with the tip of her head. "The fire seemingly remains constant but, in reality, it is changing in many ways to the environment around it."

"It feeds the air, giving birth to the smoke that rises. The wood beneath it chars as it causes the flames to expand ever larger. The color reflects and dispels darkness, giving way to light."

Miriel rests her palm against her face, tapping the side of her nose with her forefinger. "It is not just this fire. Everything is destined to proceed through a stage of metamorphosis, one way or another. Life is a constant fluctuation of change. Nothing remains the same."

She looks to me again. "Humans are no more an exception to this than any other subject on our plane. What we may be in the past one day can all together be different the next. Do you understand?"

"I-I don't..."

Miriel reaches out and presses the palm of her hand stiffly on my own. She gives me a strange sort of smile she doesn't look all too confident in but wears proudly anyway. I realize that she looks more human now than I have ever seen her in any days past. "What you may have been before is inconsequential to what you are now. Like those flames, you are ever-changing. A glorious transformation of your character has happened with each step taken. From all I have witnessed, it is not for the worse."

"I know not whether you were fleeing from a past or simply starting anew. It is perhaps erroneous of me to make such an assumption but I hold to the principle behind it nonetheless. You have chosen a new path with us and have caused no ill because of it. You have shown to be a most apt pupil and displayed only true loyalty as a comrade would. The correct course of action for myself to pursue is to simply respect your privacy and continue to mentor you as I should."

I...

I...

Emotions well up inside of me and I find myself blinking rapidly. Gods, here come the waterworks again.

I sputter out a half sob, half laugh and rub an eye with my sleeve. "That was a way better attempt at emotional support than what you did back in Regna Ferox."

Miriel leans away and settles back into her same void look. "I have attempted to readjust my reactions to project a more befitting outcome based on the situation. I am pleased to have been of better support than the previous venture."

"You're such an awkward beaver Miriel," I grin.

"Interesting analogy. And what has made this beaver so awkward if I may inquire?"

I lean on her and give a friendly nudge. "Stop Miriel. Don't even try to think about it."

"As you say." She peers up over her glasses at the night sky through the breaks in the trees. "How late it has gotten. I fear that exhaustion is pressing down upon me. I believe that I shall be 'hitting the hay' soon. Another interesting phrase. Why does one equate hitting hay to slumbering? Such peculiarities with languages. It is boggling to the mind."

"That's why I said to stop thinking on it you nutter," I sigh. A yawn follows and weariness hits me as well. "Huh, I guess emotionally fuelled friend talks take a lot out of you."

She cocks her head to the side, humming in agreement. Miriel stands and pulls her cloak tightly about her once more. "Should you be willing, I would most enjoy delving into your map further. With the appropriate materials in my lab, we could persist in unlocking more of its secrets."

"That'd be really neat. I wouldn't mind at all," I reply as I get up too. Man, I feel heavy with emotion right now. "Well, I, um, guess I'll be heading off to bed then."

"Affirmative. I wish you the best of nights Robin. And, may your spirits find themselves at ease soon. I do miss having a pupil who has an actual interest in her subject matter."

"Sure, sure. I hear you," I wave as we part ways.

That was...definitely different. A whole new side to Miriel I've never seen before. I feel weirdly conflicted about it. Part of me is ecstatic and over-the-moon about this little declaration of faith. At the same time, it's a weighty sense of shame because of all the secrets that are still buried under the foundation of our friendship. These dueling conflictions are tearing me apart more than ever.

It's a bittersweet victory.

I feel so bad for snubbing all these people. It's so hard when I've grown to see some of them as friends, maybe even good ones. It's amazing how conflict can bring people together so closely. So it hurts so much more when I can't find it in myself to want to respond back to their concern.

My feet subconsciously stop before a certain tent housing the most persistent doof of them all. I had initially thought Sumia was the buggiest Shepherd but Chrom took the cake on that one. Our paths seemed to meet even more than I thought possible this returning trip. Suddenly Frederick is training both of us. We've ironically got a shared night watch together. I'm magically sitting next to him at dinner.

Did I mention he has horrible conversation skills? I've never seen a guy have such a hard time trying to talk to me before. It starts off casual enough but usually ends in some inane topic like "What's your favorite color?" or "Do you eat pie?"

Of course I eat pie! Who doesn't eat pie you ding-bat?

I get that he's trying to be a good, concerned leader but pay some attention to the other Shepherds. Poor Sumia is suffocating. If I see one more lovelorn sigh come out of her I swear I'll-

What in the bloody frick was that?

Something just hissed. Not like a snake hiss. More like a...

Aw hell no. Please don't tell me it's a Risen.

I whip my map out, prepared for the worse. To my utter shock, it's blank. I laugh quietly. I'm just hearing things. That dream had me rattled to no end and it's probably just my mind playing more tricks on my paranoid self. Silly me.

I go to take another step and swear I hear the same sound again. I freeze and listen. Ten seconds later I hear the heavy exhale. There's no mistaking that horrific sound. Yet, my map is still blank when I look at it. My heart begins to pound. I plainly remember that black fingered Risen from the past and how that didn't appear either.

I strain to look in the dark for something hobbling nearby. Damn it, why aren't you on the map?

I cautiously move forward, trying to find the source of the wheezing. Yeah I am definitely not hearing things! It's getting louder. In fact, it almost sounds like it's coming out of...

Son of a bitch.

I'm right in front of Chrom's tent.

My ear presses up against the material and I listen in. There it is again! That same long, shuddering breath. Craptastic!

I let my hand slip to the sword I had wisely chosen to take and curl my fingers around the hilt. As quietly as I can, I slide it from the scabbard and hold it close. My whole body is rigid and my mind is whirling. I have no idea what to expect but I can't hesitate. Who knows what's happening right now in there! I can't put Lissa and Chrom at risk so I have to make every move count.

I inch forward and slowly nudge the canvas flap aside. I try to peek in all stealthy like, hoping to keep the element of surprise.

What in the flying fuck.

Nothing is in here.

My body slips through the entrance quietly, my head partially ducked under the low roof. Gah! I feel so creepy and weird right now sneaking in like I am. Creeper Robin indeed!

And seriously! Where is that breathing coming from? Ew, and that smell! What is going on here?

Besides me, an assortment of discarded gear is in the back corner. On the other end is two bedrolls where both of the siblings are sleeping. Lissa looks like a giant worm curled up next to her brother. I can barely see the top of her head poking out from under the blankets.

She thrashes a bit in her tiny cocoon and I hear her whimper. Coincidentally, I see Chrom shift rather restlessly in his own blankets. Are they both having bad dreams?

I inch forward, my pulse jumping with each step.

And I going mad? Am I hearing things? Cause I swear that there's a-Oof!

I slam into something hard. A hiss of pain escapes from me as I step back, rubbing my forehead. I expect to see the middle support pole but I'm way off from it. What did I just walk into?

I stretch my arm out and it hits something clammy. The scene before me seems to shift just lightly, like it's warping. In confusion, I give the seemingly empty space in front of me a good punch.

A long wheeze comes out and something moves. It's like space is rearranging itself, sliding away into a whole other thing before rearranging itself again. I backpedal in fear.

What...what the shit?!

The Risen...it's...it's standing in front of me!

Is this thing in-invisible?

Whatever I did to disrupt its camouflage disappears leaving it concealed. But I still can hear it and feel its presence. All it's doing is standing there. Watching them. Ugh! Sicko! Crap, I don't have time to process this! I don't know if that thing is poising to strike or what. I'm just gonna throw logic out the window! This walking nightmare needs to go! Now!

Gods, this is so whack! Who comes up with stuff like this?

I pull my sword up with both hands and step forward, ready to thrust it into the monster. As I do so, my boot cracks against something on the floor.

"Shit!" I curse out loud. I curse again in my head when I realize how loud I've cussed.

The darkness flickers and slides away into something whole as the Risen twists about.

It moves sluggishly around and the beady eyes that peek from its sunken sockets look dull. It seems to animate when it takes me in. Something about the way it moves is sitting wrong with me. It isn't attacking, just watching in curiosity.

Then it starts to smile.

One of its arms raises and it takes a step toward me. I flashback to the dream and a high-pitched whine escapes from me.

"Y...Ou..." It whispers.

No. No. No. NO!

My sword embeds itself in its stomach. I shove all my weight into it until the blade goes all the way through. Silly me though. That isn't going to do anything to it. I realize too late my error. In horror, I look up at its face. The smile is gone and turned upside down. It stares at me as though a parent would when disappointed with a child.

And then the light flares in its eyes and all the feral ferocity pours into its sneer.

My own shriek of terror mingles with its own as it lurches at me. The weight of it crashes into me and we fall down in the heap. Its deathly odor immediately brings me back to my earlier nightmare. Desperation and fear course through me as I struggle to get out from its flailing form. I let go of the sword and trying to scramble away.

I'm vaguely aware of some screaming beyond the vicious hisses and screeches of the Risen. Someone snags my left shoulder and drags me out from under the Risen. I feel an arm wrap around my torso as I'm hoisted up and back from the razor sharp claws.

Chrom, bleary-eyed and bedraggled, stares at me in alarm. "Robin?"

My name is all he can get out before the Risen rolls off its back and into a standing position.

"Chrom! Catch!" Lissa voice rings out as she throws Falchion toward him. He catches the scabbard in one hand before dragging both of us away from the Risen's leaping attack. It slams into the corner of the tent and I hear the support pole crack.

"Everyone out!" Chrom shouts as the three of us speed from the collapsing tent. We duck out just as the structure collapses. The Risen inside thrashes and tears at the cloth that traps it inside.

"What was that?" Lissa squeaks as she stares in shock at the remains of her sleeping quarters.

"Robin, how did you-" Chrom's question is cut off when the Risen in the tent lets out a careening cry that rips through the night air. There's a massive tearing sound as one of the claws shred through the tent canvas. Its slender arms wriggle through, followed by the head and body.

At this point the other Shepherds are emerging from their tents. Most are half dressed and still rubbing their eyes from a deep sleep.

"The hell is this all about?" I hear Sully snap as she stumbles from her own tent next to us. She struggles with the back of her left boot as she tries to tighten it. Clad in riding britches and a half tucked undertunic, she's probably one of the more well dressed Shepherds. Virion's emerged in nothing but a long pajama gown and fashionable nightcap.

"Look out!" Lissa yelps as she points at the advancing enemy.

Chrom throws his scabbard aside and advances on the creature. I can only watch in mute horror by Lissa's side.

Someone in the Shepherds shouts and I can hear them scramble. There's a pop and then a flare as Miriel launches a spell to light our clearing. The Risen stumbles and hisses at the light. It flickers, as if trying to disappear with its surrounding but the dancing shadows and bright glow seem to make it impossible to keep a consistent form.

It's hesitation gives Chrom an opening and he wallops the monster right across the neck as it twitches in agitation. I see a glint of light run up the blade as it bites into the Risen, causing it to cut clean through the dark creature's body. The head spirals and then bounds once against the ground before bursting into smoke. The torso follows, poofing into dust seconds later.

"Chrom!" Lissa bolts after her brother and rushes to his side. The rest of our crew do as well. Weapons are half drawn and the group is searching for answers. I hear Lissa's voice babbling about the attack and Frederick throwing orders around. A few of them disperse and run in different directions to scout.

I feel shivers go down my spine. I don't know why I do so, but I turn. My breath catches.

My shaking hands dive for my map once more. I slowly uncrumple it and level it with my line of sight, staring between it and what I see.

There's nothing there. Nothing is on the paper.

And yet the Risen from my dream watches me from the foliage. It just stares. I feel like I'm looking into the depths of insanity. What does it want? Why me? Why?!

Flashes of it hovering over me flit before my eyes. I can feel its perverted caress and I start to shiver uncontrollably. That thing is real. That thing spoke to me.

That thing touched me. It looked at me and...and...

I feel dizzy and sick and wrong.

"FOUnD...yOu..."

I can hear those words echo in my head as it watches me. It feels like it's caught ahold of my very soul. I'm frozen and unable to move. I'm utterly at its mercy.

The loud whistle and the solid thunk of an arrow splintering into wood breaks me from my nightmarish daze. The Risen stares at the projectile that missed its head by inches with dull disdain. In seconds the darkness envelops it, its two red orbs the last things I see staring back at me as it fades into nothingness.

Virion battles with the hem of his nightgown as he waddles up while notching another bow. Sully and Stahl both move past him for the woods with weapons drawn. Something deep down inside tells me they won't find it no matter how hard they look. It's gone.

Someone is tugging at my sleeve and I faintly realize that they are calling my name. I look down at my side and see Lissa.

"Robin? Are you okay? You didn't get hurt back there in the tent, did you?" She stops speaking when she sees my face.

"I-I'm fine," I force out. "It's just that thing was...my tent...and then the map...I don't..." My voice seizes up in fear. I feel so dizzy that I just can't focus anymore. Why is everything so foggy?

"FOUnD...yOu..."

Get out of my head! Go away! I don't want to be found! I never wanted this!

I feel disjointed, like I'm trying to escape from my own skin. I'm bombarded by this deep rooted fear of the darkness. Mixed in is this unshakeable loneliness and the inability to move or break free. I'm paralyzed, lost within myself and trying to claw out.

The world is spinning but those eyes seem to follow me.

I'm remembering.

Not pictures but feelings. This is a fear associated only with one thing.

Grima.

"I...I don't want to be found," I say with words that aren't my own.

Something, or someone has brought me here and now they want me back.

But I don't-

The blackened void of unconsciousness envelops me and I know nothing more.

A/N: Back to our regularly scheduled programming! So...how about that Super Smash Brothers roster surprise? I'm pleased as punch about that one. Here I was hoping for a palette swap on Marth for Lucina. Low and behold, I get so much more! I look forward to playing as both her and Robin. And with the inclusion of Tiki as a trophy, I wonder if we'll get any others. My guess is either Grima or Tharja. I'm more hyped than ever for this game now!

Anyway, cheers to you all! And congrats to my readers in Germany for a game well won in the World Cup. Well played my friends!

Reader Reviews -

tsubame hayakaze- Hm, Say'ri and Lon'qu could work. There's some common ground there. How do I get her into the story sooner would be the question though!

Heh, that would be correct. Lucina's hit the first timeline variance Robin has caused. Kellam was always that odd man out and remained an eternal bachelor in all her timelines. Not anymooooore.

On the last topic, I'll just say I never said male Morgan wouldn't be in the story ;) So maybe you'll see your favorite one?

Thanks for the continued views!

Guardian54 - Wow, nostalgia trip. That's from the RTS golden years of my youth. I'll bookmark that quote for fun later on.

LeonPianta - I know that's not okay. Writing that chapter was horrible...All I can say is keep some faith. As we've seen, the future isn't certain and everything is changing. It's all depends on what Robin decides to do.

Holy smokes, I love Snake and Clover! They're my favorite characters in the series! I had a fit when Snake was left out of Virtue's Last Reward. I didn't intend to mimic the siblings after them but that's a fine comparison in my book! I wish all siblings were as cool as those two.

A Shadow's Lament - To appease your curiosity, it's just my typical respiratory issues combined with pesky viral elements and wonderfully appropriate weather. It's all good though!

Haaaaa, that whole plotline with Lucy's mom. Yeeeeeeah. I'll drop more hints later. I like watching you all squirm.

Yeah, those siblings are gonna be some fun later on. Their design choices took forever. Maybe I'll draw them up one day? The brother has my favorite personality but the sister is more fun description-wise. Anybody notice how gaudy she looked? Like she wanted to be loud and stand out for some reason? I wonder why... ;)

Guest - So many questions! I wish I could answer them! D: Good catch on the Marc reference though.

CrimsonHeresy - I need to slap myself on that one. That's in the title of the game! I need to get back to playing again!

BrowncoatJedi - Thanks for stopping by again! I'm glad the POV change was a success. Lucina is openly stated to be very proper and a bit high strung. It would be really odd to have her using informal speech and coarse language. The whole chapter was meant to be a look into her mind set and show how different both her and Robin both are as characters and allies.

Thanks for the grammar error. I fixed that right up. And good catch with the reference! You guys are too good. Dothraki pride!

Ruu - I need to combine yours and Guardian54's idea somewhere. Ninja Owain must be made real! That, or he invents the world's first gilly suit. Either way works!

999Patientia - Ha, well thank you for being awesome and reviewing! Insight is always appreciated! You know, after rereading the chapter I realize the Marc does come across a little like Henry. I think it's the playful psychopath similarities. I guess that means I won't have a problem writing him later! I wouldn't count out seeing later characters much earlier on though. Remember, Olivia already popped up. No reason why someone else can't either! Of course I can't say anymore for spoilers sake. Same with the children too, unfortunately. I feel horrible saying 'wait and see' but I have to. Thanks for reading!

V - Ha, ha. You may very well be right. Nothing is quite what it seems in this story so I'll just nod and smile knowingly here. Thanks for stopping in!

timewastin - Hi there! Thanks for dropping in a review! Yeah, the story is on the dark side. I think that's my horror roots coming through. Thank you for the warning. I could have sworn I set this to "M" but I reset it just in case. I hope you continue to read and enjoy the story! Thanks again.