Disclaimer - I don't own Fire Emblem. All of its properties belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.
Warnings for disturbing content and mild gore
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I hear the lapping of water and feel the cool wetness around me. My foot twitches as I come back into consciousness. I crunch my closed eyes together even tighter as the weariness of deep sleep weighs heavy on my chest. The right side of my face aches from being pressed up against a cold stone surface.
Where am I again?
My eye lids flicker. The world is familiar yet foreign to me as I gather my bearings. A weary groan leaks out of me as stiff muscles unlock. I can hear my back crack and feel my neck muscles burn as I leave my uncomfortable lean against the statue I lay sprawled against.
It's so quiet. Where is everyone?
Droplets splash around me as my hands press against the white tiles to help me stand. I wobble slightly and an arm shoots out to support myself against the womanly figure behind me. Craning my head back, I take in a closer look of my stony companion. A tall statue with a sad face and long flowing hair around it. Her void eyes stare pitifully at me.
I don't know if it's because I'm soaked to the bone but it feels miserably cold in here. Bone-chilling.
The boots on my feet slosh and squeak against the pretty tiles beneath me. The sounds echo off the walls and remind me how empty this setting is.
No, really. Where am I?
"Ow!"
There's a prick of pain in my pointer finger and I immediately bring it up to my mouth to suck on it. Extracting it, I see it looks really red. Weird. I shake my hand and let the cold air try to soothe the aching digit as I walk toward the center of the room.
Squeaky, squeaky boots are the only sound still as I go. This hall is vaguely familiar. The answer is just at the tip of my tongue but it swims away into the recesses of my scrambled brain. Maybe it will come to me once I wake up more. In the mean time, I should find somebody. In such a big room like this, I can only guess the rest of the building is even bigger. No doubt there's at least a groundskeeper or someone around.
I aim for the front doors and reach out. As my fingers curl around the door, I can't help but wince again. It feels like multiple little paper cuts opened up on them when I flexed. Is it winter? My fingers always crack in the cold weather. I should buy some lotion later.
"Huh, that's odd."
The doors rattle as I pull against them. I try harder. Harder still. They refuse to budge. I hear something like metal chains on the other side. Looking out the windows that sit high on the entrance walls, I can see nothing but darkness outside. Am I in a museum? Is it closing time? I should find security to let me out.
Turning around, I place my hands on my hips and try to decide where to go. There's a path up a set of stairs and two doors on the sides. Skip going upstairs. Security offices are usually on the first floor. Which way to go though? Wow, my head is really blank. I must have drunk something fierce to be this brain-dead.
Well, nothing a good game of Eeny-Meeny won't solve. Let's see...Right it is.
Walking over, I reach out again.
An arctic wind breezes over my skin and washes over me from my head to toe as I touch the handle. That's an odd reaction. I pull my coat a little closer around me. Weird again. This doesn't look like my normal coat. When did I get a new-
An earsplitting shriek ignites the air, the toxic curdle of the woman bouncing off the stone acoustics. Someone's in trouble?
I have to help them!
I pause mid-step in confusion.
When...when did I think things like that? I'm not stupid. I'm no hero. What can a simple baker like me do? I-I should call the police. With my phone.
I start patting my pockets for it, feeling odd. Why does the concept of 'phone' and 'police' seem out-of-place?
There! I have something! It's big though. What? What is this?
"A book? I don't carry books around. Where did this come from?"
The writing on this looks foreign and odd. This isn't any language I know. Nor is this any book I've ever bought. Old, red, leathery. This looks like something out of this museum.
Strange, there's that feeling again. 'Museum' doesn't seem to fit into that earlier thought. It's like my body is trying to tell me that it's a wrong assumption. What is the right idea then? It's at the tip of my tongue but I can't seem to grasp it.
The book drops from my hands as another scream lets off. A masculine one. He's in great agony, for sure! I should get out of here. I should find help!
And yet, my feet carry me two steps further toward the opposite hallway. Where is this new-found urge coming from? I never run into danger. I run from it if I can help it. But now I feel like that's against my very nature.
I should be helping. I can be helping. I have the ability to do so.
Besides, it's my duty now as a Shepherd.
A what? Where are these thoughts coming from? I press a hand to my forehead and shake it. It aches. It's like there's two different voices arguing in my head. I remember a reality but then another takes hold. Regardless, this urge to go forward is growing too great to ignore. It's almost desperate how badly I feel I have to get there.
I pull away from the other door and swiftly trot to the other side. Mmph. There's a growing spot of pressure on my left ankle. It's like leaving a heating pad too long on it. Just enough to grow very warm without starting to singe the skin. Am I coming down with a fever? That or I'm really trashed on some hardcore booze. I'm feeling things that aren't there.
The western door gives way easily and I slide right through the crack. A few steps in and I can't help but pause. What a freaky corridor. Never expected something in a place like this. Wherever this place is.
Paintings line each wall on both sides. Ornate, gold frames border each precious piece in a protective hold. Edging closer to one, I see that the metal has been fashioned in the shape of a great serpent. Or maybe a dragon? It has two sets of wings spread behind the head that sits at the top. The main body coils around to form the others sides and claws peek out grasping at the corners. In the low candlelit halls (where are the light bulbs?), the flames are a golden reflection on the black surface. Sparkling stones lay set in the face to represent the reptilian eyes. Their color reminds me of my own eyes. What a coincidence.
The subject on display is definitely not of my tastes. The oil painting is bleak and dark. It reminds me of Francisco Goya's Saturn Devouring his Son. Except the god in question is a dragon and it's devouring some poor nameless knight.
The next painting is no better. The same dragon sprawled out against a burning dawn. The ground beneath is littered with the tiny ant bodies of men and horses. Some of the horses have wings. Pegasi? Interesting. Maybe this is some interpretative image of a Greek myth?
Turning around, I head to the other wall. The first painting shows a different dragon. It's curled around a human woman and it looks ready to devour her. Something about it really leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe it's the look on the woman's face? It's like she just giving herself to it. Mind, body, and soul. Who wants to be a sacrifice to that? I leave quickly to the next.
This is even more disturbing. The same dragon watches in the shadows as a smaller version of the black one behind me devours the woman from before. Parent dragon teaching the baby to hunt? Either way, I like this one even less. Again, it's just the little details. The look of reverence in the victim's dead eyes. The color of the blood around her abdomen where the small dragon is half-submerged. The coldness of the big dragon looking on.
The desire to look fades faster and faster as the painting go on. There's some sort of order to these images. The one side shows the big dragon and little dragon for a time then switches to the little one with a human whose hair is the same color as the big one. They travel through a great forest where they hunt and do other stuff. Eventually they both disappear and an androgynous looking child dominates a series of portraits with a white dragon. This pattern ends with the child watching over a gory and bloody battle scene between humans and its parent(?) dragon. The white one watches on in the background.
Starting back from the other side, a new story follows this darker, black dragon. The succession of images get more erratic and violent. The number of victims grows and grows as the creature gets larger and larger.
One in the middle catches my attention. On the ground is a great army with three figures up front, two specked in blue, and a third with a helmet and red plume. Before them on a great stone structure amid a great green field reclines the black dragon, bigger than ever before. On the crags beside it are five much smaller and less prominent dragons: a large brown one that looks blurred with dust, a smeared smokey one, a vibrantly colored one with prismatic wings, and a large and small matching set in blue that look to have ice or something hanging from their sides and snouts.
Thereafter the paintings look damaged. The colors are muddled and nightmarish, like a Picasso reject. Large abstract blocks that smudge and speckle hues together. Blue and black are the primary focus.
This one even has a rip through it. A few actually. Like claw marks? Was that an intentional effect by the artist to imitate the dragon?
And the last one here. Let's see.
"What the-?"
I jerk back in surprise. It's...
My heart comes out of my throat and I sigh. It's not a painting. It's a mirror! I'm just looking at myself.
I chuckle uneasily. How stupid of me. I scared myself.
Myself.
That's me? I raise a hand and outline my chin with my pointer finger. It feels too smooth somehow. I draw up and trace the bottom lip. Too thick. Then the point of my nose. The arch of a brow. I looked not so long ago and knew myself. Now, something just feels off. I'm different. I don't feel like me.
As I pull my finger back down, the sleeve of my coat slips. A mark on my hand? How odd. That wasn't there before. It's familiar though.
Examining it closer, it stirs something in me. An insignia. A sign. Power.
Power for who? Me? That's impossible. I don't want power. Who wants power? Too much responsibility comes with it. I respect those who handle the burden and applaud them from behind. But for me, there's too much stress and potential for loss. Let me just live out the simple life. Enjoy the quiet of living. Watch the culmination of bigger events from afar.
As if to break me from my exploration, the hallway suddenly rocks under the power of an explosion from nearby. The shock wave causes the doors next to me to rattle and bang while dark smoke pushes out from under the cracks. A symphony of masculine and feminine wails reach my ears.
Another thought breaks in unbidden.
I have to save them! I have to save my people!
What people? Who?
But my body moves again on its own accord. Regaining my footing, I push away from the wall that supported my falling form and dash for the doors.
As soon as my hands grasp the handle, pain rips through me. A choking, bewildered garble of a gasp bursts from me as I drag my hands away. The handles have some how gone pure white as if lit by the flames of a forge. My hands shake as I stare in shock at them. The palms are red and blistering. The bottom where the most pressure went are just lumps on lumps. Some bursting and wetting the skin.
"H-how...?"
So quick? The burns. Where did they-? How is the door-?
My vision tears.
Light burning against shadows over me.
"-ells happened to her! How cou-"
makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop
"-ut her on the table! Get the-"
painpainpainpainpain
Something on my hands. It hurts worse!
"She's awake! Gods! Edi, cast that spell. Put her under!"
A moan, far away.
Backtosleepbacktodarkness
I fall back hitting one of the paintings. This is shock. I'm in shock. I can't make a word or sound as I stare at my smoking hands. Why would I do this?
People. Faces. For the Exalt. For the dead.
Exalt. I know that word. Feelings inside me start to churn and give form to something I can almost understand but can't.
Screams again as the door shakes under another burst. And another. It's becoming too much. The weight on my soul. It's worse than my hands. I'm cracking and crumbling under a shame I don't remember.
I can't hold back the urge anymore.
My responsibility, says my mind.
My duty.
My failure.
Burning, charring flesh. Smoke rises as I grab the handles and pull back the doors.
Hot fiery wind blows over my face and body, scorching me. A stale breath that carries the scent of decay and death. Promises of something I never want to face.
My watering eyes peer through tiny slits.
It's an inferno.
Fires rampage along the walls and climb to the ceiling above. Flames lick at the bottoms of curling banners and a pillar crumbles causing a balcony to fall. Blackened wood collapses and embers fly with the smoke plume that arises from it like a spirit ascending skyward.
I stand, transfixed at the sight before me. Fire and flames. They never scared me. Never before. It's part of my art. My craft. I hone it to create what I want. But now they instill me with fear.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand. It's the feeling of being watched. Something is monitoring my presence here. My eyes desperately sweep the room. I search through clouds and debris. What is this feeling? It's inspiring fear. I need to get away.
There! Right before me! Two eyes. My eyes.
No, they aren't.
A low, reptilian rumble vibrates through the floor. The colored pinpricks in the smoke come forward. A dark shape emerges in the great black cloud and slowly breaks through the veil. Swirls of ash and dust roll of the great plated face. The rest of the eyes light up, one at a time. The structure around me shakes as the great body of that black dragon emerges from the flaming hell around it.
Another tear into a far away place.
"-stabilized but still having fits. I don't kno-"
A shadow passes over my vision. A man barely recognizable against the brightness.
"Can she hear us?"
Yes! Yes I can!
"I don't know. I truly don't, my dear."
Please. Wake me up! Wake me up!
Darkness closes in again. No! Come back!
"-all my fault."
The sound of my shriek brings me back. I fall, ankles and feet searing in pain. I land on my back and everything goes white and spotty. My head rolls to the side and I groan out a weak cry. I don't have the strength to even scream out the pain. Eyes flutter open. Another soundless shout.
A skeleton, black and crispy, crawls from a rubble pile to me. Rags from clothing and armor hang from the bones as it scrapes toward me with its bony hands. The eyeless sockets stare forward. The jaw clacks and a rattling wisp carries out.
"You did this."
An accusation. True? False?
"Murderer," another cracks right beside me. I pick my head up and see another skeleton, still half baked and wearing skin grasping hold of my boots. The hands are curled around me and burning into my skin.
No. No. NO.
I shake free and back away despite everything destroying my ability to think. I somehow move and move until I hit a wall. The two skeletons continue to crawl towards me. A ways behind them, another emerges, pushing away the rafter that held it back. Its bones rattle and grind together as it walks hunched toward me. A final one remains stuck nearby though it continues to paw at the ground and desperately try to come for me.
And all the while that black dragon just watches. The blink of each eye in a rhythmic succession. It waits to watch me die.
That's right, I'm going to die. And there's nothing I can do about it.
Did I deserve this?
I-I don't care. I don't want to.
I like living. I like feeling. Dreaming. Laughing. Experiencing.
Why?
They're here now. The searing heat of their bones crawling up my legs and arms. Going for my neck. Ready to pull me under in revenge.
The desperation to live is overwhelming. I fear.
So I thrash and protest. My numb foot kicks and catches a skull, sending it flying. Though it spins across the floor, the body still moves. So I wiggle harder. I won't submit. I won't go under. I won't! I won't!
Stop it!
Stopstopstopstopstopstopstopstop-
"STOP!"
"Robin! Robin!"
I kick and punch and try to get away! They're holding me down and whispering and-
"It's okay! You're awake!"
In the recesses of my mind I hear a kernel of truth. I want it to be real, but is it? Oh, how I want it to be real. Please, tell me that's the truth. My flailing calms but I still can't help but struggle to pull away wrapped up as I am. It's too real still. The sensations are too raw.
"There we are. Easy. Easy does it."
The voice in my head is not in my head but out of it cooing in my ear. Soft and comforting. The constriction isn't as bad as I thought. It's a warm embrace. As I fall to a still, I find myself in a gentle rock like one does when easing a child to sleep.
"You're alright. See? Everything's over, Robin. The nightmares are gone. They won't hurt you any longer."
Fingers gently run through my hair and I'm surrounded by a steady heartbeat and the smells of bread, roses, and mint.
Everything's going to be fine?
Yes. Yes, it is. I'm fine.
I'm awake. I'm finally awake. How long-?
I surrender to the rhythmic motion of my cocoon, vaguely aware of my own sobs. It sounds miles and miles away. I'm awake but my conscientiousness is still drifting back to earth.
"Mother? We heard something shatter. Is something amiss? Oh!"
"Ashlynn, get Edi immediately. Have him bring my things. Quickly, child."
"R-right away!"
That voice. That's Anneliese. Why is she here? And this bed. It's too feathery. Not mine.
There's a dull...something all over. My hands and feet feel like they have weights attached to the ends. I can't flex or move. But I feel? Yeah, it's sinking in.
No! Don't think of the pain! It reminds me of the dreams. Dreams that are misting just out of reach behind my eyelids. There's some terrible truth waiting for me when I open my eyes, I know it. I don't want to face it. Not yet. I'm not ready. I'm going to stay in this mindless bliss and pretend just a little longer.
It's alright.
I'm alright.
Everything's j-just fine.
…...
Ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha.
Yeah, right.
A/N: Sorry. Not sorry. I love sneaking in my creepies when I can. This is simply a short interlude I mostly wrote just for myself to blow off steam. I wanted to do something easy and fun after that monstrous chapter. I wrote bits of this during the last chapter and pulled it together for a stand alone entry since that one became too long. Yes, this chapter is odd. It's intentional. Dreams make perfect sense and make no sense. You'll do one thing, stop, do another, and circle right back around to the previous task. Honestly, dreams are mysterious things.
Also sorry for all the errors last chapter. I have no idea where my head went. Still completely unacceptable and after this chapter I'm going to spend a week or two doing a full purge of what I can for the story. Still, some of them were pretty funny. Validar's "clam" face will forever haunt my dreams. And sorry to reviewer Jenna Riedell. I know you mentioned doing a Frederick and Emmeryn pairing and I left a red herring saying probably not. I didn't want to ruin the surprise. And lastly, shout-out to humanManure with her lovely set of ideas. Your idea on Robin teasing Chrom's gender-spotting issues made for a cute banter.
But guys! Guuuuuuys! New Fire Emblem! I'm so hyped it isn't funny. I really like what I saw so far. Lots of East vs West influences, at least one type of new monster, and the same art director as Awakening. I'm not familiar with the new writer aside from vaguely hearing about GetBackers. I like the idea that there's going to be a heavier influence on choice and probably branching story elements from it. Even more so, Serenes Forest found a lot of evidence supporting the avatar system potentially coming back. Apparently one of the sprites seems to swap hair colors and gender in more than one picture. If that's true, I'm more than cool with that. I assume they'll be important to the blue haired dancer with the dragon thing and the blonde knight fellow. It's all speculation however. Regardless, the Fire Emblem franchise continues and I'm satisfied. What a great day to wake up to!
Review Responses –
Ensu - Honestly, getting this chapter out made my month, ha ha. Robin does have tenacity, for sure. Tenacity that will definitely leave a few more marks than she came with. I don't know if I'd say she's okay, but she's alive. Good enough for now, I hope. The rest will come next chapter.
Heh, more OTPs. It's been a long time now and I'm still wobbling on set pairings. Slowly but surely they'll appear. Sloooowly.
Tom Lyon – Thanks for the heads up. I had some real bizarre errors. I fixed what I could but will do a deeper cleaning this week. You're right, it's finally time I brought in another second gen. Owain is always a pleasure to write, frustrating as his over-dramatic tendencies get sometimes. I'll be glad to get the other kids in as well.
timewastin – Ah, the little strike team. In defense of the second gens, Chrom and Lissa are aware at least that Lucina has some battle prowess from first hand experience. And having earned the favor of Basilio, that means she has to have some backing to her skill. By default, one can assume her companion is of the same skill or close to. Given that knowledge and her helping save the day, that's my logic for why they accepted her aid. Also they're just exceptionally trusting. Look at Chrom, he did invite Robin into the Shepherds within a day of meeting :I As for Robin...well. Aside from most of the logic stemming from some of them sympathizing with her trying to right her tactical error, I had to suspend disbelief just a tad as an author for writing purposes. The plot has to go on. I thought it made sense in my head anyway.
Ooo, lore. Right. I'll have whole chapters dedicated to that junk when it comes up as Robin is going to have to try and learn of her enemies better. In regards to your questions, Grimleal will sacrifice wherever and whenever with the belief that everything done in their god's name will help in some small way. It is preferable to do a rite at a site as allegedly a sacrificial death will mean more, such as the Dragon's Table or in an established site around Grima's bones. Beliefs strongly affect their need to do so. Short version of things, Grima is not lauded as a wholesale evil being in Plegia. The dragon's revival heralds a different sort of message to them than what Ylisseans believe. It's a matter of black and white opposing viewpoints. Plegia and Ylisse both view each other as heretical monsters, especially after the war forced each religion down the other's throat. So murdering Ylissean royals on their home ground should be doubly pleasing and meaningful to Grima's name. I'll stop there before I create a book. Needless to say, I will expand on it later. Everything I write here is, as you said, of my own universe and supplements by the Knights of Iris book.
So thank you for the interest!
Guest – Aw, thank you. I'm glad you liked my story! It means a lot.
Titan127 – Thanks, that was an insane chapter. Lots went down! I figured it's about time I gave Falchion some love. What's better then letting it kick Grimleal ass with a little help from the big dragon upstairs. Tag team of the century!
King Keith – What an epic name! How cool.
Thanks for the compliments. Robin's conflicts took a drastic swing here but it was bound to happen. Send an unprepared soul into an event like this and something is bound to happen. And don't feel bad about letting me know about errors, I encourage it. I always think I've found them all and still end up missing so many. Thanks.
Berserker you say? As in a certain Berserker from the Type/Moon fandom? If so, hell yes! If not, do tell! :)
Raiden312 – Thanks much. I always worry something will be off when I have chapters this big. Owain is such a dunce and writing for him requires a lot of Shakespeare influences. Funny thing about the Frederick/Emmeryn thing. I tried to keep is subtle for the big reveal later on but maybe it was too subtle. Ha. Glad you enjoyed the magic too. I usually spend a few days going over the Fire Emblem wiki looking for appropriate spells and then trying to adapt them to fit. Some work. Some don't. It's a more challenging process than I initially thought. Pays off when it does work though.
Guest (I love it) – Aw, thank ya kindly! I try my best to keep it awesome! The Black Knight from Radiant Dawn? That's actually a great comparison. Fits the creepy knight vibe to a tee!
Arthogawa – An earful? Oh, I'm sure Robin's in for more than an earful. Poor thing. She sort of should have expected it though. You don't "quit" your organization and then jump into battle like she did without some fallout being expected. But that's Robin for you.
I won't say much regarding future chapters but the kids are definitely a lot closer to work with now than before. How much? You'll see. Oh, how nice! Speculations! I love seeing other people's theories! I wish I could comment but that's the fun of mysteries. Seeing if you can guess before the big reveal! Wonderful thoughts regardless! You have some nice breakdowns of certain details.
Snowmaru – Ah! So sorry! I meant the finale of the three-part event! Don't panic! There's still a lot left to do! Glad you liked the fighting style assessments. Sometimes going into details like that are fun. It helps differentiate the characters from each other and helps readers visualize a little more how they move in their minds!
Forgetful Dreamer – More theories! Yes! Love it! I think I know what character you're referring to and your line of thought is very insightful. It's a good guess. Who knows? You may be right. Never be afraid to over-analyze! I hide things in between the lines all the time so always squint and assume.
Oh my, another vote for Robin and Chrom. Ha! I'm terribly amused by this. I think I'll have to move him to her support list after all or risk facing a mutiny by the readers!
A Shadow's Lament – Gah, sorry to you as well! No heart attacks intended!
I'm so pleased you liked the chapter. There was so much to get lost in! But you found all my favorite details! Lucina's reveal and demasking, Emm kicking butt and taking names...Hurrah! And welcome aboard the S.S. Frederick/Emmeryn. Have a lei and enjoy the buffet table. Speaking of her, I didn't even notice the lingual similarities in that scene with her brother. Unintentional but it is awesome. You get the siblings' vocal patterns in your heads and its funny how they blend together in way like that.
For Marc, all I can say is think hard about everything and try to find clues. I thought myself as subtle as a brick when it came to mysteries but I guess I'm not doing too bad?
Truthfully I never thought of doing Robin and Chrom as a couple. The story was supposed to build up on their deep friendship ala Marth/Chris. Plus I thought people might be sick to death of that couple, outside of Chrom/Sumia. But indulging the ship tease and seeing people's support has convinced me it isn't that bad an idea after all. So rejoice, he's in the running now. Merry late Christmas?
Mr. Wobbly – And again, your comments continue to humble me. Thanks you! I'll continue to cram the content and keep things as gripping as possible. Thanks for always dropping in to give a good word.
drunkdragon – Wow, lovely review. Very insightful! Firstly, thank you for taking the effort to write it. Hearing what I do right is great. It compels me to work even harder!
Now, your concern is actually very good for me to read about. It actually reinforces my decision to cut certain elements from the plot before I even started writing this. Originally I did have elements that would have made this story way more vast on a multi-verse level. In the computer world, we have a phrase called spaghetti code, lots of excessive lines of code that attempt to establish an end result but could actually be done in a simpler and shorter formula. I realized part way through planning I was doing that with my story. So I cut. A lot.
Without spoiling too much, your assessment is very much on point. Nothing I did with the grandiose "hows" and "whys" runs outside the confines of what I believe to be canonically believable, barring the SI's back story. I'm not versed in Asleep's lore because I chose to stop reading to honor the author's creativity and story patterns so I wouldn't be influenced in some way. Same with several of the other major juggernauts here, much to my dismay. I miss reading them. I'm assuming these gods are something well out there though? Interesting.
Either way, I hope what I achieve is up to what you want. A not-so complicated outcome, or one that is grand but is easy to understand. Time travel is such a messy thing to deal with but keeping a certain scope on it hopefully helped me prevent plot holes and stray ends from occurring.
Thanks again for the dedication and I hope you enjoy future chapters.