Cycle

by RoseWarden

Robin is a young woman who bakes cakes during the day, sleeps at night, and drinks on weekends. She does not wage wars, fight demons, or solve dating issues. Yet, somehow by divine mistake, she's found herself doing just that. Clearly, someone has her confused with another Robin...

32. Chapter 32

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

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Chapter 32

So you know how all those epic movies in your childhood would really amp you up for huge fight scenes? There's the sweeping panoramas of both war parties set to the slow rumbling buildup of timpani, trombones, and trumpets. You see the commanding officers standing stoically across from each other with their chiseled looks of determination. The soldiers are dedicated and resolute to their glorious cause. Sometimes you get the shot of an eagle or hawk screeching across the sky in some metaphorical message about freedom and whatnot.

Lies. They're all lies.

Stuck between these three majestic barrels for privacy, I suck in another gulp of air and keep my head in between my legs. I'm tangled in a losing fight between hyperventilation and the dry heaves of my nerves trying to upchuck everything I forced down today.

Whatever delusional ideas of grandeur I expected were dashed the second Plegia's army first appeared as dots on the horizon. The closer they came, the worse it got. Night did a great job of masking the true terror of their might. No longer cramped into the tight quarters of their evening camp, the true numbers were spread out in one mighty wave atop the plains. When the thunderous booming of their march reached our ears, that was when my resilience began to break.

If I thought the assassination was bad, I was clearly naive to think so. The numbers before me are staggering. This is a true nation's worth of men and women marching on us. Hundreds, thousands of bodies moving toward our projected demise. The thing is, I'm really here. There's no TV screen between me and them. I don't have a controller in my hands that will help me dodge and attack when prompted by quick-time events. I am one small, tiny person standing on this wall staring down an army intent on ending my life. How do you even comprehend something like that?

This is...this is just...oh boy. Here comes another wave!

How did the heroes of old do this? Seriously, you have men like Alexander the Great who rode across continents for decades doing this over and over again! What kind of sick thrill could you possibly get from this? I'm not on any battle lust or adrenaline rush here. I'm ready to piss myself in terror! I'm barely holding myself together.

"Caw!"

I slam my right hand down on the top of the barrel next to me and crane my head to the side. This irritating crow has been my neighbor for the past few minutes and he's been seriously ticking me off. My sudden movement barely frightens the bird. He just hops three steps away and ticks his avian head to the side taking me in with those beady eyes.

"Caw!"

"You getting some sick pleasure out of this? Scram!" I hiss slapping at the air in front of it.

The dumb bird just flaps its wings to glide to the next barrel where it begins to pick in the creases of the wood. If I were the superstitious sort I'd have to wonder if this was a bad omen. Aren't crows bad luck or something?

"Robin? Are you over here?"

Great.

I push off my knees and stumble out from my hiding place. Ricken's voice continues to call out in search of my wayward self. Currently only his hat peeks out from behind the crates he's poking around. My normal self would have taken this ripe opportunity to sneak over and pull a scare on him but I'm just not feeling it right now. I had excused myself briefly for a moment but I suppose I've overstayed my time. Still, it's better than breaking down in front of the whole council. The longer I had stayed in there, the harder it was to breathe. My fear was beginning to suffocate me and I had to release it somewhere. I can't help but look to the left out the tiny window in the tower wall.

Plegia's practically right in front of us. We're half expecting them to launch into a full blown run at any minute given Gangrel's attitude. Aversa is probably the only thing keeping them controlled as they are. Their pace has slowed to a crawl and it's worried us all. Breaking their speed so randomly is just an obvious red flag. The question is what are they planning because of it?

I force away my attention back to the boy before me. Just as I call in greeting he turns around. He startles a brief moment before settling down upon recognizing my face.

"Oh, it's you," he mumbles bashfully before bulking up straight. "That is, I'm glad to have found you. Virion is looking for you!"

"No kidding," I respond tiredly. "I have been away a while."

"It's best if we hurry. Whatever is happening, it's urgent."

His statement zaps awake my brain from its sluggish state. "I'm gone five minutes and something happens. Figures. Lead on Ricken."

The young mage nods once vigorously, catching his over-sized hat with one hand to keep it on. His long robes flap and flutter behind him as I follow back to the gatehouse. I find myself realizing how utterly ridiculous it is that I'm here with him on the war front. He shouldn't be here. Miriel barely graduated him to junior researcher just so he could be in the Shepherds and that's only because of his natural abilities. He has two years of academy experience and five months under his mentor's tutelage. I highly doubt that qualifies him for this!

But the truth is that he has as much a right to be here as the sixty year old seasoned veteran out on the field right now. I'm not just saying this because of the lack of able bodied adults. Ylisse is a different society all in its own.

They consider maturity and adulthood at a far earlier age here than in my world. Life is hard. Even with magic and healing, there are plenty of dangers that require responsibility to be taken a hold of at a more youthful age. Barring Risen, cults, and demonic dragons of yore, the Fire Emblem universe is still full of its own dangers. I may not know them all yet but I've heard my fair share. Bandits and deserters still plague the darker corners of Ylisse. Diseases and plagues with symptoms I've never seen before ravage this world. Even the wildlife can cause your day to go from good to bad in a moment's notice. Did you know a specific flock of wyverns in Valm spit acid? Ouch!

Still, it's always jarring for me to see such a thing. Aside from Ricken, I've passed too many young faces under helmets for me to be comfortable. The same goes for the elderly. It's unfair to both sides. But maybe that's just my own homespun point of view.

When we reach the gatehouse, Ricken abruptly turns and starts to edge away. "You probably know what to do from here. I need to get back to Miriel now. She needs me to help finish up the last wards if the negotiations fall through."

"The what?"

"Sorry, I have to go! Good luck Robin. Keep our captain safe!"

Ricken scuttles off leaving me questioning this new development. I head in through the door separating me from the council inside.

The room holds every major military leader here. Every well-armored military leader. Unlike the games, these people are suited up with as much protective covering as allowed. There's no hopping into battle in your day clothes. That includes myself. I tug free some fabric crinkling up in my lower back from beneath the armor I wear. I was grabbed for a makeshift fitting after Frederick nearly broke down my door this morning realizing I had no armor on hand. Someone scrounged up something because I was afforded some basic limb coverings and this jacket sewn with metal plating for torso protection. It's a bit heavy for my tastes but this affords me more maneuverability given my lack of skills and need for spell casting. At least maybe I'll survive the first blow I take from the enemy. Yay.

Aside from that, I've grabbed up everything I could think of that would give me an advantage today. Winning isn't the only goal here. Survival is just as important. I need all my tools at my disposal. A sturdy sword hangs at my waist and I've got both a wind and a thunder tome. I still have Virion's elixir though let's hope to God I don't have to use it. My map is a must-have and I've finally pulled the Einherjar from their hiding spot. My biggest fear is that in the midst of battle I find myself separated and vulnerable. If I'm found by the likes of the Grimleal priesthood, I'll need protection. What better way to do that than to catch them off-guard with these two legends as back up?

"-risk entertaining the idea! It's obviously a ploy of some sort."

"Or it is the only opportunity we may have to stop another war from escalating."

The air is thick with tension and everyone has eyes trained on our Exalt. Emmeryn is one of the few here in light armor. As our leader, she won't be seeing much battle from her protective place on the wall. Her aptitude in magic and protective arts will be more than enough to cover her as she lends her aid along with the other arcane users. All the same, she's discarded her usual attire for sturdy, tucked in clothing that won't catch or hinder her in battle.

Currently both she and Nethys are locked in a hot debate near the front of the table. Before us sits a topographical map of the area picked to death with pins and figures. My own map, sitting blank thanks to someone's wandering touch, lies beside it in my empty spot. I quickly step around some of the various lieutenants brought in by their commanding officers. I'm unsure of those that stand in the academy's corner nor the city guards. I do happen to see a few familiar faces in the others. Apparently Markus' bravery brought him some good luck because he's standing with Eldaran's crew wedged between that mustache man and his smelly friend who were guarding Emmeryn's quarters. Viola is missing from among the pegasus knights and I'm sure she won't be seeing action for a few days still. Most surprising to me is Lucina and her group's presence here. When Owain, Nah, and she appeared through the door earlier, it caused a lot of surprised looks to rise. And while Emmeryn made no mention of the topic, or them at all, it makes a rather poignant statement. I have a feeling this is a set-up for the future. Emmeryn is gradually integrating them slowly into things before fully unveiling their true identities. Learning she has two illegitimate half-siblings who are traveling with the first manakete seen in decades is a bit of a bombshell to drop when there's an army on our doorstep.

As for the Shepherds, our group should technically consist of Frederick, Lissa, and I. However, only two of us are here to claim representation. Lissa departed from the capital two days ago with the Fire Emblem under the supervision of our squad. Having nearly all the Shepherds away from capital reduced half of my own stress. The few that remain are relatively safe. Miriel and Ricken are here due to their advanced magical expertise. Though unofficially a member still, Gaius has been under heavy supervision as a consultant on the enemy along with our captured man. Maribelle has supposedly volunteered her services as a healer and refuses to be turned away. And Virion...

"Ah ha, there you are. A timely, if not fashionably late, return," my eloquent partner greets quietly as I slide in to our corner.

That's right, partner. Virion is working tactics with me. Why? Because he's the only person I know and trust right now who can do my job better than me. I don't know what he's specifically gone through in Rosanne but it's definitely enough for him to know a thing or two about tactical maneuvers and counter strategy. I swear, when I first asked for his help, you would have thought I had asked him to marry me.

No, Virion. No.

"Ricken came and got me. He said something happened?"

Virion's usual robust aura seems to dampen despite the continued genial grin he carries. "Yes. An unfortunate twist in the game it seems. Not a moment after you left did a messenger bring the most peculiar note. Perhaps, dear lady, you would fancy a guess as to who our correspondent might be?"

"Is the Chon'sin empress finally getting back to me on that rice pudding recipe I wanted?" I throw out humorously. I think it's obvious from the way Nethys is arguing who it really is.

"Alas, not quite ma déesse culinaire. He is a supposed royal however."

I feel a twinge of apprehension. "So the Mad King sent us a love letter. What's he want exactly?"

"A chance to negotiate."

I look for any sign he may be joking but Virion really means it. Great. "For what? There's no way he's marched out here with an army just to sip tea and talk peace."

Virion nods, drifting his gaze to the arguing duo across the table. "I concur, as does the majority. Yet, our prestigious Exalt would assume otherwise."

For once, Emmeryn's peacekeeping ways start to annoy me. "Seriously?" I whisper in disbelief.

"Emmeryn is a rare flower, pure and true. It makes her a grand leader in peace. In warfare, I fear her good intentions will lead to being trampled beneath his foul machinations."

"Damn it Emmeryn. Wake up," I urge the woman in front of me.

Nethys pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes screwed shut in aggravation. "I can't believe you're even entertaining the idea of letting anyone out there."

"If there's a chance..."

"There is none!" she barks aggressively.

Emmeryn's typical serene expression is waning away in favor of her stubbornness. She stands tall and resolute to her guard captain, eyes a steely blue in her defiance. "You would resort to war without even giving peace a chance? Have you learned nothing from the last one?"

"I survived the last one, your Grace. Who knows war better than I? And in my experience, I am telling you this is utter hogwash!" Nethys grabs the writ off the table and crushes it in her palm, shaking it. "The man is insane! Just like his predecessor. Perhaps even more so! And you'd be just as mad to believe him!"

"Captain!" Eldaran strides forward and grabs her arm, lowering it. "Calm down."

Nethys jerks her arm away and throws the crumpled ball at Emmeryn's feet. Her face is flushed with anger and the same flaming hue as her hair. "I will calm myself General when I know I'm not throwing my people to the wolves. I started the last war on the disadvantage thanks to our previous Exalt and I won't ruin anymore lives by doing it again."

He steps between the feuding women and casts a pleading look to Emmeryn. "Your Highness, think about it. Regardless of her attitude, you know there is truth in the Captain Nethys' words. We all know what type of man he is. Do you really think deep down in your heart he wants to talk about ending this?"

Nethys' words have made an impact on the Queen. There's a profound sadness in both her eyes and her voice as she speaks. "I understand where you all are coming from. Truly. However, I am a different Exalt than my father. Like Gangrel, I inherited a broken nation wounded by an unjust war. It is up to leaders such as we to amend past wrongs to make way for a better future. Such a path should be pursued with peace, not more war."

"He has been feeding our ire for years. He doesn't want peace," Nethys spits. "He wants power. It's quite apparent to me who claimed our mines."

"I believe it goes deeper than that, my Lady." A door shuts behind us and several people brush aside to let in a new face. "This is a case of retribution."

"Maribelle?" Emmeryn voices in wonder.

It's been months since I saw the young woman before me. We had met once in the barracks on only my second day here. I had been a mumbling mess and she was a concerned courtier worried for her friends' diplomatic mission. Now we stand apart as two completely different individuals. It's as good as starting all over again.

The noblewoman is much like she was before with head high and nose lifted with pride. The battle garb she wears under her protective chest piece carries a silken sheen when the light hits it and subtle tufts of lace to enhance her regal femininity. Her hair is gathered in a tightly wound knot at the top of her head with expertly curled rings falling from beneath it. As ever, her faithful umbrella sits before her as a lean to when she stops before the table. There's something about her that seems older, darker. The tragedy of her house's fall has left a noticeable mark on her.

Her appearance is not unnoticed and Chrom immediately walks around to her side. He looks more concerned with her appearance than pleased or upset. I assume he's still worried about her state of being after the shock of her family's passing.

"Maribelle. What are you doing here? You know you needn't fight this battle," he starts with a gentle sense of reproach.

Maribelle merely turns her head away, face set in strong resolution. "On the contrary. As the Duchess of Themis, it is every bit my responsibility to be here. A grave injustice has been committed upon my house and home. I am sworn by the laws of nobility to rectify such wrongs. Is it not my duty to crown and country to protect the people in exchange for their fealty?"

Does she even have any people left to defend? Themis was all but wiped out.

"Maribelle, yours is a special case. I don't-"

The young woman boldly raises a single finger, a reproachful pout forming on her lips. "Tut, tut, my Lord. When a woman has made up her mind, you must respect it."

Her attentions stray to his sister and the pout only grows. "I do protest though, your Grace. The idea of entertaining such a fallacious brute is futile."

Emmeryn appears slightly hurt by Maribelle's disapproval but tries not to let it show. "You surprise me, Maribelle. Of all people I would think you to understand my decision best."

Maribelle reaches forth with a free hand and pulls Gangrel's marker toward the gate where Emmeryn's stands. "I do, your Grace. A meeting of two minds for the sake of peace is something I would gladly mediate. However, pardon my forward statement, but ideological pursuits such as yours work only so well when all parties share the same interests."

"So you too, believe there is no hope here?"

"I may wish such a hope to my dying breath, but one must choose to approach such a meeting from a neutral sense. You cannot stroll in idly without considering all outcomes with such a conniving rapscallion whose reputation is fraught with blood and deceit."

"I-I see."

Emmeryn closes off and steps away to the window. When Chrom tries to approach her, Frederick silently catches him and shakes his head. The room goes quiet while we wait for our leader to speak again. I can't see her face but I do notice the tension in her shoulders and the way her delicate fingers curl together into balls under her crossed arms. What's only a minute feels like forever with the sounds of an army reaching us from beyond the walls. Finally, she answers.

"We are all at an impasse it seems," she begins slowly. Emmeryn reaches down and presses flat the crinkled letter from Gangrel before us. "Allow me to meet you all half way. I will converse with King Gangrel but I will do so from the protection of this wall. He will be allowed free access to approach the gate with no fear of retaliation from our warriors. From there we will conduct our business until whatever it may be that occurs next. This way, I am still safe from harm yet still able to pursue my own wish. Will that suffice for you all?"

"I'd rather we just stick the bastard and be done with it," Nethys mumbles out.

"That will not be happening Captain," she counters sternly.

"Bah."

Nethys isn't the only one who looks unhappy. The room fills with nothing but grumbles. No one here seems to relish the idea. Emmeryn, like her siblings, is stubborn in her own way. She's desperately clinging to her last shreds of hope and this is the final gambit she can take to prevent her greatest fear from happening. Unfortunately, I don't believe anything is going to help stop this. I look to Lucina, who has remained quiet all along, and see an equal share of doubt on her face. She's been through this war more than once. She knows there's no stopping predestined events.

Gangrel is going to demand the Fire Emblem one way or another and there is no way under any circumstances that Emmeryn will do such a thing. As soon as he hears 'no,' he's going to unleash the army and try to bury us into the ground. No more negotiations, just a mass slaughter until every last one of us is dead. Hells, I'd bet that even if we did give it to him he'd still attack. A guy doesn't hire out three mercenary bands and bring a whole army just for a morning jog.

At least with Emmeryn doing things this way, she can stay safe instead of being out in the open. This little exchange will buy me a few more minutes of peace anyway. I'm not exactly in a rush to clash with the enemy.

Everyone begins to quickly disperse to their stations as the Exalt goes to deliver her decision to the messenger waiting for her. Everyone is weirdly quiet, as if unsure whether this is real or not. I'm still trying to swallow the notion myself. I'm probably the least at risk right now as Chrom wants me and Virion to stay out of battle to watch the field for changes. In exchange for that safety, I'm carrying a massive amount of responsibility. We are the eyes of the battle and it's up to us to report disturbances and offer advice on how to turn tide in our favor. If our vigilance breaks or we offer up the wrong strategy, we can spell instant death for so many lives.

No pressure, yeah?

I end up tagging along behind Emmeryn, my map out and ready to track Gangrel's movements when he approaches. It's pretty obvious to me my job is to look out for strange movements in the ranks or solitary dots skulking around for mischief while they banter.

As we walk along, I slowly drop my pace from behind Frederick and Chrom's conversation to fall in with Lucina. Her group will remain on the wall as Emmeryn's personal guards. The decision raised a few eyebrows but no one is really going to question a direct issue from the Exalt. It must be nice for them to be around the aunt they never knew. And I bet Owain is all but relieved to know his parents are safely away from battle.

Speaking of said boy, I'm grateful to see he's currently wrapped up in hyping an unimpressed Nah with predictions of their potential glory. It's my first time seeing the manakete and she looks nothing short of human. I guess I was expecting something exceptional about her, like she glowed or something because of her draconic blood. If I hadn't noticed the pointed, elongated tips poking out from between the strands of her hair, she'd be no different than anyone else. Well, her eyes are a bit different. Very vibrant. Sometimes when she lets out a stronger bit of emotion I catch a flicker of something in them. Otherwise she looks like a short, youthful young girl. With green hair. I thought I was finally getting used to blue when green throws me off again. The genetics here are so odd. Suffice to say, Nah takes a lot after her mom. I haven't had a good look at her face so I can't take any guesses at her parentage yet. Wonder who it is...

Anyway, this allows me a precious few moments to speak to Lucina about my very jarring experience the other night. If anyone will have an idea on this, it will be her. Besides, it's best I warn her so she's not caught off-guard by another bizarre occurrence.

The stoic princess barely acknowledges me with eyes trained hard on the backs of her father and aunt. "If you are here to offer up sympathies or words of encouragement you are wasting your breath. I'm neither afraid of battle nor suffering any sort of nerves associated with the preface of it."

"Okay, hello to you too," I greet, drawing back from her response. "I suppose that means I can skip the pleasantries."

"Robin, we are about to go into battle. There is hardly room for anything but complete focus on the objective ahead of us. I cannot afford to entertain any feelings of doubt or fear that may hinder my performance when battle reaches us."

"Well don't I feel inadequate now." Her unamused scowl promptly causes me to switch gears. "Listen, I have to make this quick. Something really freaky happened yesterday."

I pause and wait for a reply. She just gives me a side-long glance that seems to question why I stopped. Sighing, I continue on. "So I was in the armory doing some inventory when a rather prolific merchant stopped by. She went by the name Anna. Sound familiar to you?"

There's a hitch in her step as she tries to control the expression from changing on her face. The quiet of her voice barely hints at the distaste she utters with the name. "Anna is here?"

"Not the reaction I was expecting, but yes."

"She's late."

She's...late? What's that suppose to imply? Is Anna already with the Shepherds at this point in time? Or are we suppose to have met her on the road already in that one village getting attacked by the awkward twins. I wonder if this Anna handled that too then?

"So Anna usually is involved with things already?" I whisper eagerly, ready for answers. "I suppose that makes sense."

"You seem familiar with her. Then your stories speak of her as well?" the princess responds with dry neutrality.

"Yeah."

"There is always an Anna involved in things," Lucina all but groans. "The fact that you know of her even in your world is unsurprising. Their infamy would reach beyond time. She is of a meddlesome family who has always been behind the scenes in every major event over every millenia. This Anna of ours is no different. Just find a way to buy whatever it is she's selling and she should disappear until her next harebrained scheme arises."

"So there's always the same Anna here, right? She's an acquaintance you know well it sounds like. Is she unaffected by these cycles that keep reoccurring as well? Has she been in every one?"

"Yes." Lucina stops and looks at me. "Why?"

I also pause and try not to cringe. "So don't freak out or anything but...um... your Anna is missing."

She's not really getting what I mean because Lucina doesn't look perturbed at all. "I don't understand. You claimed to have encountered her just yesterday."

"I did but it's not this world's Anna. This was a sister, or so she claimed. She approached me and started demanding to know where her missing sibling went."

"Gods above," she murmurs into her hand. "Missing? That's impossible. She was with us last cycle."

So Anna was there? That means she went missing somewhere between then and now. What a coincidence. "That's not what her sister claims."

"And this other Anna approached you? Why? Why would she assume you to know such a thing?"

I press both hands together and try to hold it together. "That woman has guts, let me tell you. She waltzed up demanding answers despite assuming I was...you know who. " I covertly lean the top of my right hand toward her. "This Anna claimed she knew everything that was happening and was pulling her sister from this world before everything went belly-up."

"But you-"

"Aren't the big baddie she thought I was? Yeah, that seemed to surprise her. Guess your Anna hadn't told her everything before she went missing. Apparently this Anna has been frolicking through the countryside looking for your missing one under the assumption things were no different from before." I pause and try to force in some levity to the situation. "Fun surprise, she apparently rescued Donnel while doing so."

"Sir Donnel? Is alive?" she gasps.

Welp, I guess that's another Shepherd who didn't make it after everything went crazy. Wonderful news.

"Robin, I need you up front!" I hear Chrom yell from further along.

"Coming," I yell over my shoulder. Cringing at the lack of time, I hurry my words. "Look, I thought you should know. Anna is apparently going to stick around and talk again sometime. I figured you should know and come along given she also knows what's happening."

"Gods..." Lucian repeats with even more anxiousness than before. "Does this ever end?"

"Robin!"

"Jeez." I offer her a final parting look of sincerity. "I know you didn't want any sentimental stuff but just indulge me. Be careful Lucina. At this point you kids are just as important as your parents are. I really don't want to explain one day to a couple why one of their kids aren't here to greet them. Watch yourself. And watch each others backs, okay?"

Lucina stares at me, face completely void of any expression. There's not a single shred of emotion on her face. She's gone tight lipped and just seems to stare into my eyes. I begin to doubt if she's even heard me when she finally manages to crack her mouth apart to let slip a single word.

"Right."

That's it? Nothing else?

"I, uh. Okay then. I guess I'll see you?" I force out.

Nothing. I see her jaw clench tightly together and suddenly she darts around me. Her stiff walk makes it look like she's stomping all the way to where Owain and Nah have gone off to the side to wait for her. They look fairly concerned with her departure from our talk but she cuts them off with stern words meant to set up their strategy for the battle.

I...

Lucina...

Did I say something wrong? I only meant...Gods, why does does this feel so disappointing?

Ugh, I-I can't mope around like this. Other people need me. I break into a jog up to where Idris stands beside Emmeryn. He's weaving his spindly fingers in and around the air under a familiar wind spell to help project Emmeryn's voice. She looks hauntingly powerful standing in her regal battle ware under the setting sun with the wind blowing the stray strands of hair around. Her soft features have takes a sharper turn under the growing shadows as she watches the lone figure approaching our gate.

Chrom leaves his sister's side upon noticing me and meets me partway, pulling me to the protective overhang of a supply shed next door.

He looks me dead in the eye, voice strict and stern. There's no way of refusing these orders. "Robin, keep to the shadows. If anything, and I mean anything, looks remotely suspicious, you alert me right away. Understand?"

I nod, my head feeling like lead and my body beginning to tingle with the anticipation of everything about to happen. "You got it."

"Good. Stay alert."

He pats my arm once in reassurance and then returns to Emmeryn's side. Since the beginning of our council, his hand has never left Falchion's hilt. The holy sword has remained constantly at his side save for sleep and even then I assume it's within arm's reach. There was some controversy in allowing him to stay, especially with the nation's other heirloom in his possession. But those concerns seemed to pale to the weight of Falchion's legend. A greater number supported his decision to stay not because of his desire to protect his sister, but because the presence of such a hallowed weapon would boost morale. Falchion's one of the greatest symbols this country holds and knowing that one of Naga's only flesh is wielding a part of her sacred self into battle spells victory in the army's mind. How can they lose when her divine being is fighting here alongside them?

It might not be hard for them, but it's growing into a bigger concern for me. Especially when I can see our enemy waltzing up with a pep in his step that belies no fear or care in the world. Holy crap. I'm really looking at Gangrel right now. He's here.

I find my eyes drawing away from my map to observe the villain before us. I know the story of this man. He was a thief on the streets who fought the system to rise to the throne. There's many accounts on how he got there. Some claimed he had a birthright as the previous king's bastard, thrown to die in the gutter by a serving maid and raised by the dogs in the ally ways of Plegia's cities. Sometimes he's just an orphan of war who lied and murdered his way through succession. The boldest claim he just waltzed in to sit on the empty throne, put the crown on his head, and declared himself king. Either way, the echoes of his previous life are still evident on his being.

Gangrel by no means has a fearsome stance. He's tall, lanky, and his arms seem too long for his body. His face still carries a gaunt thinness to it that seems worse with the ashen pallor of his skin. Wild red hair grows untamed under the crown he proudly wears into battle. Despite the arrogance he exudes, his body is always moving, twitching. It's as if he is ready to move at a moment's notice should danger arise. Always looking and searching, his eyes are far from filled with the insanity his name denotes. On the contrary, they are alert and calculating. Aversa may be the tactician but there's no doubt in my mind Gangrel isn't capable of reading a situation and adapting accordingly, even if it is only to his benefit.

Emmeryn waits until the other man is close before speaking. Idris' spell warps and grows between them causing their voices to carry for ease of hearing. "King Gangrel, you are cleared to approach our gates. As per the rules set, you will approach without weapons and we will allow you to stand before us unprovoked."

Gangrel waltzes up with obvious swagger. When he stops before us, he takes a moment to stare each person on the wall in the eye, giving them a great look at his bemused smile. "An impressive wall you have, Exalt of Ylisse. Good for keeping the faithful in and the wolves out."

Emmeryn ignores his comment and continues. Everyone on the wall has tightened the grips on their weapons at the first words exchanged. I can't help but note that both of the men in Emmeryn's life have nudged themselves a bit closer to her. "Do the conditions we have set up prove acceptable for you to continue on with our negotiations?"

The other king leans back and presses a hand to his chest. There's a mock sadness in his voice as he stares her down. "Pardon my words, your sacred Exaltyness, but I find this heavily one-sided. Here I am being a good neighbor and opening up a channel for communication. I expected hospitality and find not a scrap of decency presented forth to me."

His mouth splits into a grin that makes my spine tingle. "I had hoped to at least speak face-to-face."

There's a ripple of uneasiness through her comrades, one Emmeryn takes note of. All the same, she persists with the conversation in her same calm and controlled manner. "I assure you that is not my intent. Merely precaution."

"I'm afraid I can't help but feel offended. Here I come bearing my all in the open and you sit locked behind your gates with men on all sides. It doesn't make for a fair meeting ground, don't you think?"

Chrom brushes against his sister, voice low and harsh. "Emm, it's obvious he's goading you. Don't give in. This is just a trick to separate you from us."

She looks down reproachfully and whispers sternly. "Chrom, hush."

Her all-business persona kicks back in and she addresses Gangrel with an apologetic tone. "You must forgive me but I find it in my best interests to remain as I am. I find no trouble speaking with you in our current positions, nor do I mean any. You have my word as a fellow sovereign."

"And with that," Gangrel proclaims, stopping his pacing to wave a finger in the air, "I must disagree. I find it hard to even approach an equal ground when I see you upon your wall with nothing but a view to the underside of your pretty little nose. A simpler man such as myself can't help but feel a tad looked down here."

Emmeryn isn't quite sure how to respond, and neither does anyone else. Except Nethys maybe, who looks ready to skewer him with her javelin the second he gives her a chance.

"Perhaps I can sway your opinion on the matter?" He grins deeply, snapping his fingers up high.

From behind him the sea of Plegians part. A tall, fearsome man pushes a hunched woman forward with forceful shoves. While he is weaponless himself, his fierce muscles could very well be just as dangerous. The captive's head hangs to her chest and she staggers under not only his pacing but her own weakness. Her situation only grows worse as she gets closer. Her hands remain behind her back as if bound and a bag is pulled over her head to hide her face from view. Her clothing is a tattered wreck of armor and riding gear but not so unrecognizable that I don't realize who it is.

"Leeza!" Phila slams both hands to the top of the wall and leans over, her startled gasp giving voice to all our thoughts.

"Lose something, your Grace?" the king's voice echoes teasingly through the still air. Emmeryn continues to be at a loss, paling in answer to this new development.

Gangrel summons the captive and her handler forward with two crooked fingers, his smug features never leaving Emmeryn's face. "This poor little birdie seems to have lost her way a fortnight ago. Being the generous neighbor I am, I decided it was only right to bring her back to you."

He places an all but reassuring hand on Leeza's shoulder. "You should really take better care of your pets, Exalted One."

"Your kindness know no limits, King Gangrel," she replies with a low voice, cautious and placating.

"No, it doesn't." Gangrel's broad smile drops for the first time as he throws an almost dead expression toward her. "Nor do my people, it seems. We've only given her the best accommodations. Isn't that what you Ylisseans expect? The best treatment for the greatest nation to grace our fair continent?"

The statement is meant to confrontational. He wants to get a rise out of the opposing army with a blatant jab. And between that and Leeza's less than stellar conditions, he succeeds beautifully. The shock wave spreads throughout the entire wall, the static charge of everyone's anger igniting the air. The loudest protest comes from Chrom, who steps back with Falchion half drawn already.

"You dare-"

Emmeryn catches him quickly with both arms, pulling him away. "Peace, Brother. Temper your rage until she is safe in our arms again," she pleads.

Gangrel seems to relish the chaos ensuing up top because he watches the the scene unravel in satisfaction before begrudgingly pushing Leeza's confined form forward. "I have to say Exalt, I'm sure she'd like to get back to whatever roost it is she calls home. But I fear letting this one go will only cause her to stray again. Maybe her handler should come retrieve her in person for her own safety?"

"Indeed King Gangrel. I will send a cleric to retrieve her at once."

He laughs. It's boisterous and loud, enough to cause me to dislike him even more. "I'd rather not. Given her roaming nature, I would only feel safe knowing your gentle, caring hands were the ones to receive her."

"Your Grace," Phila questions, "do you have any orders?"

The pegasus knight captain is usually always stern and quiet but for the first time I see fear in her eyes. That's one of her own out there but she can't act without Emmeryn's say. Phila is looking for something, anything. But Emmeryn is rooted to the spot. This is a position she's never been in before.

Frederick, who up until this point has held his opinions in respect for her, finally can't hold his own reservations anymore now that the scheme is finally coming to light. His concerns join the pool of rising protests. "My Lady, I understand that you are in a difficult position. We would all like Leeza to return to us safe and secure. But you cannot seriously mean to entertain this man's suggestion. His intents are as obvious as the sun's rays."

Emmeryn's response comes deliberate and slow, carrying all the gravity of the situation with it."If it will mean her safe return, I will."

"Gods, Emmeryn think about this," Eldaran argues in concern from the side. "You know what he's asking for here, right?"

Emmeryn stares at the imprisoned pegasus knight with a sorrow, her expression openly grieving at the predicament. "There is nothing to think on Eldaran. The answer is clear. I will go myself to retrieve her."

Over the mounting proclamations, I see the three children in the back watching this all with mixed expressions. Lucina's ever present seriousness is a contrast to Nah's shock and Owain's anger. The boy's passion for justice is probably raging and he starts to move forward ready to speak his share. Nah begins to protest but it's Lucina who steps around the manakete and blocks his path. The conversation they have is quiet but no less passionate. I lose sight of them as the crowd around Emmeryn grows blocking them from my view.

"How will it look to our soldiers watching if the Exalt leaves one of their own at the hands of the enemy when she has a chance to save her?" I hear Emmeryn counter back as I focus in again.

"These soldiers signed up knowing the risks. They are willing to die in your name. They will not blame you," her general points out.

"Perhaps not. Or perhaps they will. I will not take that chance."

"Gods, above," Nethys proclaims. "Take a dagger with you and gut yourself while your at it cause you're as good as dead if you do this!"

There is a sharp crack on stone that echoes sharply in everyone's ears. The group turns to see Maribelle watching us all with fierce disapproval. "A woman's life lays on the line and you all choose to squabble so? For shame."

"You have a better idea, Duchess?" Nethys accuses angrily.

"Dear captain, you are once again allowing your overactive emotions to cloud your reasoning. If you took a moment to breath instead of letting out all that hot air as you normally do, you'd see there is an answer to both our problems here."

Nethys is using every fiber of her professional restraint to hold back from wailing on the younger girl. Maribelle on the other hand, seems unfazed by the woman's rage. She boldly steps past her with indifference.

"If you have something to add, let it be known Maribelle," Emmeryn states.

"That I will, your Grace. As I see it, the only way either side will be acquiesced is if you are allowed to conduct the meeting under only the best of security. You must have a chaperon at your side who shall be able to deliver you safely from harm at the first sign of it, yes? Yet, they must be unassuming to this king's eyes that he does not see them as a threat."

"You have a suggestion then, Lady Maribelle?" Eldaran pipes up as he steps in between Nethys' fidgeting form and the Duchess.

The noble puts on a smile that is anything but shy and looks confidently ahead. "Why, myself of course. Who better?"

He visibly balks, looking at her like she's gone crazy. "No disrespect, but what in the heavens can you as a healer do?"

"Truly? I am a Shepherd, General. Protection is what I specialize in." Maribelle raises her umbrella and rests it across her arm, idly running a finger up and down the handle as she searches her captain's face. "M'lord. Surely you must understand where I am coming from?"

"I..." Chrom trails off unsure. She's clearly keeping things vague, maybe to keep her cards hidden until the right time.

"Hm?" Her fingers trace the outline of a jewel embedded in the hand. She then twists the umbrella forward, tapping the tip of his boot lightly with it. "My dear captain, please. The answer should be fairly obvious."

Chrom stares at her hard looking for an answer. When his eyes shift downward, his whole demeanor changes. "Ah! Right! Of course. You have that."

Her umbrella? What about it?

"I see now," Emmeryn states in awe beside him. "That would work just nicely. No one shall suspect a thing. And you feel you are up for to this task, Maribelle?"

"Your Grace, I am a Shepherd as much as I am a lady. This makes me a more suitable option than anyone else here."

"So it seems." The Exalt gestures for the head mage next to her. "Idris, make an anchor rune right on this spot. As for the rest of you, I ask you place your faith in me now like you have before. We cannot press time any further so I will give my answer. Maribelle and I will meet forth and..."

I zone out, completely taken by surprise. My God. She's serious.

"Virion," I whisper furiously, "do you see this?"

"That I do," he responds thoughtfully. Feeling my glare, he looks over curiously from his lean against the wall. "Something troubles your fair thoughts, Robin?"

"I just really don't think they should be doing this. I mean, even with Maribelle, it's such a huge risk." I really don't want to lose both our Exalt and a fellow Shepherd in one blow.

"I shall impart some wisdom that our captain once spoke of to me," he comments with his usual knowing chuckle. "We must simply have faith in our fellow Shepherds. Our talents vary but our capabilities are all the same. "

With that, Virion settles back to continue watching this whole drama unfold with quiet neutrality. While he can be vocal when need be, I have noticed he takes a passive approach to Ylissean politics. He understands he's a foreigner and that can cause problems with the nobility if he pokes his nose too far in. The archer prefers to watch and wait, gathering his information and using it sparingly when it will make the most impact.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around their plan even as Emmeryn leaves the safety of our walls shortly after. It's a dangerous move that puts her at great risk, even with the sure confidence she holds. I have to say though, it's a powerful move for morale. The majority of our forces are not knights nor nobility. They are foot soldiers, academy students, and clerics from the church. Common and middle class folk who would never dream of having a chance to see the Exalt aside from her brief appearances behind her retinue. To see her march out boldly while weaponless to negotiate not only peace but the return of one their own ignites a new found loyalty in them. As she descends the stairwell for the gate, those closest to her watch in silence. Each one stands with hands clasped in reverence or in their salute to her. Emmeryn has bowed her head but a small smile has graced her solemn features knowing this.

It's amazing to watch the people respond so strongly to her. The exalted bloodline is a sacred and precious thing to this country's history. Despite being human, they are religious demigods in a sense. This gives them greater power than most kings or queens could dream of. At the same time, their actions reverberate with the greatest of consequences. Still, I have to almost believe that it's the truth. For Emmeryn to have taken a rebellious, broken state and have turned it around into such a devoted following requires miraculous skills. It just seems to be harder and harder to keep her strong ideals in the forefront of our campaign. I loathe to admit it, but even I'm beginning to understand how ugly our actions may become. I'm no genius tactician. I know I'm going to reach crossroads where I won't have an option C and a hard choice is going to be made. I'm coming to terms with that. But Emmeryn? At some point, I'm afraid her morality is going to be pushed so far that she can't bend anymore. I fear she may break. The question will be, what do we do then?

Our Exalt presents herself before the other royal, Maribelle standing silent behind her with alert eyes. Emmeryn waves one hand out in display. "Here I am. Weaponless and without guards save for my single handmaid. Does my sincerity suffice for you now, King Gangrel?"

Gangrel takes her in as if surveying a funny joke. He probably can't believe she actually did as he asked. Neither can most of us.

Emmeryn's eyes narrow slightly and she clasps both hands before her, head tilted in question. Her voice is strong and even given what her circumstances are. That's talent. "Are we to negotiate or not?"

"Negotiate. Yes, let's do that." Gangrel finally speaks, thumb brushing against the coarse bristles on his chin. "Let's talk. Something you Ylisseans have been so fond of doing these past few years."

"I assure you that things have changed. Ylisse only wishes for pea-"

The Plegian king takes an aggressive step forward, his previous attitude stripping away to reveal the acidic undercoat he had been hiding under his jabs and mockery. "The pretty little words falling from your mouth mean little to me. Save your simpering as I'll make this short and sweet."

Here is comes, as predicted. I can practically mouth the words as they come tumbling out.

He thrusts his hand forward with fingers curling in desire. "In exchange for your lives, give me the Fire Emblem."

And the bomb drops. Everyone around me sparks to life in some way, chattering about how they told you so and that this was all predictable. Great guys. Pat yourself on the back for that. It's not like we all didn't see it coming.

Emmeryn doesn't flinch at his aggressive state. She regards him with the same cool attitude as before. Behind her, Maribelle shifts to allow her hand on her umbrella to slip further up the handle.

"You would ask for my country's most sacred treasure? Why?"

A slick, greedy half-grin slides up his features. "And here they claimed you a prodigy. Think a bit on that why don't you."

"If it is reparations you seek I would be happy to offer up what aid I can. You had only needed to ask this of me and I would have agreed long ago. I have openly acknowledged the past mistakes of our forebears. We need never have reached this state, your Lordship."

The man's obnoxious laughter fills the empty space between them as Emmeryn watches on passively. Gangrel leans in and drapes an arm over the male next to him. He leans in and says between fits, "Reparations? You hear that? Exalt Junior believes she can pay us off to fix the mistakes of the past!"

The attendant's silence breaks into an awkward set of chuckles that poorly mimic his lord's. Gangrel's hysterics end as abruptly as they began, ending with a harsh shove that moves the solider from his path. He presses a hand to his face and massages his eyes, grinning darkly. "If you think a little bribe is what I'll settle for, you are gravely mistaken."

God, Gangrel is as much a jerk-ass here as he is in the game. Maybe even more! His irritating laugh is beginning to grate on my nerves! Somebody shut him up before I do it myself!

"Surely there is something we can do." Emmeryn's own resolve is beginning to flounder as she grows more pressing in her insistence for some other alternative to the deal. Unfortunately, she's a far less impressive force compared to the whirlwind opposite her.

"War's already here, sweetheart. Look around you!" he proclaims with all the confidence of a victor. He throws both arms out and spins on his heel to show off his force. "If you want to avoid going down in history just like your old man, you'd do well to give in to my demands. You wouldn't want to soil your pristine legacy with all that innocent blood like he did, right?"

My heart stalls. There is one thing I have learned you never do in front of the three royal children. Never, ever to you say anything to them about their father. Do not equate them in any shape or form to their predecessor, even if it is to say they share the same eyes. It's something a few of the Shepherds had warned me about, not that I even know much about the man. There's so much controversy around him that they simply prefer to let his demons rest with him.

Apparently Gangrel didn't get the memo.

"Gutter-born dastard!"

I gawk in shock, mouth falling open. Was that Chrom's voice just now?

I turn my head in time to see a streak of blue aiming for the stairwell. The look of pure, unadulterated rage on his face is like nothing I've seen from him before. Chrom's been stern and authoritative before but never like this. Raw, unleashed emotion. Could I blame him though? There are few things more precious to him than his sense of devotion to his country. His sisters are probably the only thing above that. Gangrel here not only insulted both but is now threatening each with clear intent. And dishonoring Emmeryn with a statement like that was probably the final straw.

While I wholeheartedly would support him in striding out there to give Gangrel a taste of Falchion's steel, now is not the time. His emotions are going to make him reckless and fuel the enemy with only more intent to kill!

I'm already five steps in when Frederick intercedes. He quickly catches up to the prince's retreating form and grabs him roughly by the arm. The great knight's own fears seem to have been set aside in the name of maintaining peace with his troubled ward.

"Frederick," Chrom orders dangerously in warning, "unhand me."

"No," the steward answers deeply with a single shake of his head.

"Freder-"

"No." Frederick persists strongly as he pulls Chrom's sword hand further from its target at his side. His voice drops low. "Milord, I will first have you temper your rage and spend a moment in thought as to what brashly stampeding around the field like a wounded wyvern would accomplish."

"Quite a fearsome temper, no?" Virion's smoothly notes behind me. He watches the exchange much like me with peaked interest. "Or perhaps one could equate it to passion? It is hard to say. I have heard our prince is much like his sire in that sense."

"Virion, really?" I quietly chastise. "Not the best thing to say right now."

"Perhaps," he muses. "It is merely an observance from passing whispers. It is a formidable habit to acquire, my dear. One I would recommend partaking in for your own successes given your rising importance in the scheme of things. Battles can be won on words as much as swords. Know your opponent's triggers and you can sway the tide in your favor."

"Is this really the time for a lesson, Virion?" I inquire in disbelief. "We're ready to start a war here."

"Indeed, and this Mad King is already proving the victor before we even begin. His mind games are already achieving the effect he desires." His sturdy footfalls follow after him as Virion goes to the edge of the wall.

"I..." Well crud. He's got a point doesn't he.

"King Gangrel, you would be wise to dwell on your final decision. Your actions will reflect not only here but over the entire world when word spreads," Emmeryn remarks boldly.

"Is this the part where I begin to quake in my booties over big, strong Feroxi reinforcements coming to your aid?"

What did he just say?

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you not hear the news?" Gangrel's voice drifts lazily. "Supposedly some Feroxi troops traveling south met a terrible fate. Ambushed by Risen, I hear. Terrible beasts they are. An unfortunate coincidence, don't you think?"

I startle and nearly lose the map in my hands. I catch the flyaway parchment at last minute and pull it against my chest. Did he just imply...?

"He knew about the Feroxi reinforcements," I murmur in horror.

From the corner of my eye I can make out everyone halting to a standstill. They're frozen in place, shocked at the news. Their clear distress reflects poorly on the lieutenants and archers around us. Suddenly Virion's words make a lot of sense. There's a ripple affect going on through the army based on what they see and understand. The lower lines look to their leaders for guidance. Their moods and commands cause the wills of their men to bend or break. The news of our potentially lost allies will tear a hole into our morale now. And with the lieutenants uneasy and the primary heads scrambling to pull damage control, things will only be more stressful.

Virion's right about Plegia. Gangrel's announcing his victories even before we fought. Did Aversa order Risen to attack Regna Ferox? If that's the case, someone had to have told her of their impending arrival. I swear when I get my hands on those spies I'll- Fudge! The map! I haven't been keeping track of it. Crap! Stupid me! Stupid, stupid, stupi-

Oh crackerjacks.

No. Don't do this to me now. Not when everything is already going bad! Damn it all!

I gawk in horror at my map. There are three red dots opposite Emmeryn and Maribelle. Not two and a green. Three. Red. Dots. I slam the parchment to the wall and press a finger to Leeza's spot. The profile comes up ringed in the thick red of a prolific boss unit. Instead of pegasus knight I see a dark flier. This 'Leeza' is also armed with a Flux tome. And her name just happens to be spelled different. Like, not the same at all. Starts with an "a" and ends in '-versa'.

Once again, well played. I hate you even more now.

I suppress the urge to go running. I'm afraid if I sound the alarm too soon, it will cause this ploy to go off prematurely. At risk of sounding horrible, this is an ingenious plan. Gangrel and his man show up unarmed as they know all the attention will be on them for deceit. After all, who would expect the battered captive to be hiding a weapon. Aversa comes up in disguise and is probably just waiting for Gangrel's signal to unleash this preemptive move. I have to wonder if her hands are really bound. She may just have them freely held behind her with the tome in between them. It's not like her guard has turned her around for us to see.

Though I try my best not to look suspicious, my hands are shaking horribly. I'm clinging so hard to my map my fingers feel like they're going to go right through it. I feel bad forcibly pushing past two lieutenants but I have to get in as close to Chrom as possible. One of them gives me a dirty look and I try not to cringe knowing how rude I was. Can't help it! Sorry! Saving lives here!

I squeeze past and find myself behind him. My presence has gone unnoticed with his heated discussion going on with Frederick. It feels incredibly awkward trying to break into their intimate discussion. I try to look casual as I give him a slight nudge in the back with my finger.

The urge to scream is hard to repress when he doesn't react. I do it again and still get nothing. Fine, you leave me no choice. I reach up for his ear and give it a good, hard tug that yanks his whole head back.

"What in Naga's name...?" He backs away with a hand clamped over his throbbing ear, a fierce scowl on his face. It almost sends me running.

"Robin, what is the meaning of this?" Frederick questions darkly. I don't even have to say a thing, the look on my face says it all. "Gods above," he says in a hushed tone.

"It's about Emmeryn. I-"

Chrom, having recovered from his ear ache, nearly knocks me over when he catches me by the elbow to bring me in closer. In the background Emmeryn's confused pleas mingle with Gangrel's do-or-die commands.

"What are they planning?" he whispers hoarsely, his glare intense. He's keenly aware his sister's life can end at any second now.

"The hostage is a fake," I respond back, voice quivering in restraint. "That's not Leeza. The woman down there is really a Plegian soldier and armed with a magic tome to boot. I don't think I have to explain what her deception means for us."

"Son of a Grimleal," he swears hotly into the back of his glove. Chrom casts an agonized gaze toward his sister. "Gods, Emmeryn..."

"I will alert General Eldaran at once. No doubt when Gangrel strikes he means to follow up with his army. You should make haste to the Head Archon and alert him as well, my Lord," Frederick advises grimly.

"Right. The rune has to be complete. I should make sure of it."

Before both men break apart, Chrom pauses to address me weary look of gratitude. "Good work, Robin."

Frederick follows with a nod of approval that causes me to fluster. "J-just go save our Exalt, alright?" I stutter out.

There's no time for further pleasantries and the two split for their respective targets. While Frederick disappears further on, Chrom heads for Idris. Pulling the head mage aside, I can only assume he's updating the elder man on the new events. Idris' face falls in response, his bushy brows coming together like two caterpillars. After they draw apart, the man sinks down and pulls his hands to his face. While I can't hear his words, I see his fingers and lips move in tandem as he works a small spell. Green slivers of light twist around his palms faster and faster until they form a tiny bubble. Cupping the swirling orb in his hands, he pulls it in close and whispers against the side of it. The spell glows brightly and then returns to normal. Rising again, he holds his enclosed hands over the edge and subtly lets them open so the orb drops out. He keeps both appendages in the same position but I see his fingers twitch just so in certain directions.

Walking to the edge of the wall, I look over and almost miss the nearly translucent bubble floating lazily downward. I think Idris is controlling it in some fashion because as he moves, so does he spell. With supreme concentration, the man is able to draw its path to Maribelle where it settles next to her left ear and pops.

The girl's head jerks lightly in surprise and she barely catches herself from looking up over her shoulder. Calming down, she lifts her umbrella off the ground and shifts her hands so one hand sits on the curved bottom while the other settles near where the umbrella folds come together. The young duchess presses in a tad closer to her Exalt, tilting her head just enough to see both Gangrel and his two cohorts fully.

Meanwhile, Emmeryn's desperation has bled through as she grabs for any strands of morality the man before her still has. "I implore you one final time. Please, do not do this! As the heirs to our forebears, it is our duty to make way for the future! We should not be repeating the mistakes of the past. Please give our peace a chance. We can work towards an understanding between our people that has not existed since the very early era of the Schism. We had an alliance once before and it can happen again. All you must do is stand down King Gangrel. For the sake of our countries, you must!"

Gangrel looks positively bored out of his mind. Casually leaning back on one bent heel, he continues to survey the edges of his fingertips with a half-lidded expression of disinterest. When Emmeryn's passionate speech ends with a final syllable of her imploring voice, he looks up. He blinks rapidly in mock surprise and presses the same hand against his chest. "Are you finished? I lost track of your petty babbling somewhere between you opening your mouth and closing it again."

Emmeryn flinches as if she's been struck.

"Flap, flap, flap goes the Exalt's lips but what really comes out I wonder?"

Gangrel starts to walk past her, eyes to the ground with a voice rising higher and higher with every word. "Nearly a thousand years ago the grand Exalt Percival promised aid to the drought-stricken people of my land in exchange for a small pocket of lands in the south. When the verbal pact between the two sovereigns was made, what did happen?"

He stops and looks Emmeryn dead on. "He left them to die like an unwanted bastard in a rotting trash heap."

There's a stirring of noise from the army behind him. All traces of Gangrel's civility have been cast aside. He starts to stalk rapidly back and forth, voice raised high so all can hear. "Four hundred years ago when the black-flagged scum from the south pressed our shores, what did the hallowed Exalt Cecilia do with her promised reinforcements?"

There's a growing set of jeers rising from the back. A few spears raise in protest causing the Mad King to grin in a fashion that proves his name.

"Lies, I hear? Is that what you're chanting?" Gangrel's loud, raucous laughter spills forth. "Surely the hallowed blood of Naga is incapable of such a vice. But," he sombers up suddenly, "maybe they are."

He swivels around, ragged cloak billowing as he closes the distance between Emmeryn in several great strides. "Let's talk about the present, shall we O Exalted One?"

Emmeryn stands tall and unflinching against the man threatening her at an arm's length. Her lips are pressed so thinly they are almost the same white as her face. I don't know what kind of self-control she has to have not socked his sneering face already. Beside me, people are starting to panic. We're nothing but gunpowder and Gangrel is holding a fire to the wick ready to ignite us.

"Let's talk, little queen, thirteen years back about the village of Blackwater."

"Shit." Nethys' voice carries low and cold. She whips her head around looking for someone. "We need to shut him up now."

"Captain, hold your actions. The Exalt is down there," Idris calmly points out as he tries to reach for her.

She avoids the old man's grasp, eyes blazing. "Like hells I will. Letting this man keep talking will spell the end of us."

"But we agreed-"

"Damn what we agreed! He's stirring the kettle Idris! You ever face a rabid griffon head-on? That's what we'll have if Gangrel stirs up his men."

Concerning our conversation on morale earlier, I can't help but recall a passage written in one of the strategy books I have:

"Morale is as much a threat as any weapon a soldier may carry. Break their esteem and an army's cohesion will crumble from the bottom up. Bolster their spirits, and a man can fight with double his strength."

"Nothing is more powerful than an army fueled by a single, glorified cause. From the mouth of the right man, a soldier will fight with half as much spirit as one following orders. His sword is given purpose and his blood lust a tangible form."

True to that, the cries in the army before me continue to grow and grow. Gangrel's words are a quick, crude sketch of an abominable act I would not think possible of Ylisse's people. It's a rally for justice and lost blood. A tale of a small occupied village on the eastern border the prior Exalt had used to make an example of when negotiations collapsed. The town had refused to both convert and to swear allegiance to the king. So the town of innocent families with both elder and child alike were slaughtered in their sleep and burned to ashes to prove a point. It was a bloody, mindless sacking that only started a pattern of similar burning throughout the south coast.

I...I don't want to believe it. I can't. I know there had to be reasons tensions were stressed between the two countries so badly but there has to be a valid explanation for something so horrible as that! But the fervor in their cries. The blank and dark looks of my comrades...It has to be truth. If the past Exalt was committing war crimes with such blatant abundance, no wonder Plegia wants answers.

Is this why Emmeryn is trying so desperately to preserve their fragile ties? Is she trying to make up for her father's actions th-

…...?

I...I just...

A wave of nausea comes up from the pit of my stomach and I suddenly sway on my feet. My hands are shaking so hard that I have to grip down tightly to hold them still. There's a flicker of something dark in the back of my mind. The phantom smells of smoke and blood rekindle a feeling from a long time past. Something about it fills me with a deep fear. The kind you had as a child when you thought a monster was right on the other side of your blankets and you were too scared to scream because you thought it would eat you. Primitive, youthful fear.

Something in my brain just clicked as I was listening and then just...BAM! It slithered in like a lot of my lost memories have been. Usually there's a trigger or something and I'm like cool, I remember that now. This though...this felt old. A long time ago.

The village of Blackwater? Why would this conjure anything in my memories? I don't understand.

M-maybe it wasn't me. Maybe it just felt like that because Other Robin and I are so entwined. I mean why would I have a memory of a place I haven't been? It has to be my other self. But it still begs to question why this has any bearing on her. I could only assume Robin had been taken far away from Plegia by then thanks to her mother. Ugh, not the time to debate that now though. Pull yourself together Robin! Stop shaking like a baby and focus, dammit!

Someone's scream rips me from my panic and I look up just in time to all hell break lose. I blanked out long enough to miss Gangrel and Emmeryn's discussion culminate. He lets his hand wave in a signal as he leaps back. On cue, Aversa's cohort steps away from her taking the bag off her head in one smooth motion. I barely have time to make out the flash of her stark white hair as she spins on her heel toward Emmeryn. The flaming black orb hidden in her curled up palm is thrust forward with effortless ease. The swirling vortex expands and tiny tendrils of darkness slither out around it as if reaching for the Exalt's form.

A metallic click echoes before changing into a dramatic whoosh. Maribelle steps around Emmeryn and pulls her umbrella up to chest level, pushing out the actual cover with one hand. The accessory snaps open just in time to take the brunt of the magical explosion. Horrified screams erupt from the Ylissean side, my own gasp of Emmeryn's name joining them, as smoke goes up around them. Gangrel's harsh laughter mocks our stricken hearts as we search for signs of movement.

These have to be the longest ten seconds of my life. I don't think I've felt this much relief to see an umbrella in my life. As the dust floats away, I make out the shape of Maribelle's...umbrella...shield...thing. It certainly looks like an umbrella but the cloth material looks sturdy and shines like metal.

"You...you foul-blooded scoundrel!" Maribelle tirades with the fury of a hurricane. Her face is beet red and she whips her parasol at him. "How dare you raise your hand to her Grace you vile, despicable fiend!"

Gangrel's short-lived victory earns a grave scowl from him. "Well where's the fun in that? I was suppose to start this war off with one for the history books."

"A juvenile trick befitting a lowlife troglodyte like yourself!" She sniffs and shifts her hand again to the inside of her handle. "You dare believe yourself the smarter man? I believe, dear king, the old adage goes, 'Deceit is best worn by a Lady!'"

Something pops and there's a sharp hiss in the air. A moment later, Gangrel buckles back with his hand flying toward his chest. Red begins to pool between his fingers and he lets out an enraged howl that causes his male companion to rush over to his aid.

While they regroup, Maribelle quickly pulls her umbrella shut and spins it downward. She places a hand on Emmeryn's forearm before slamming the tip of her umbrella on the ground. The jeweled piece flares to life and I feel the warm rush of energy equated to light magic activate.

Not a moment later, the runes inscribed on the stone floor flair with life. Light engulfs the circular summon and blocks out the inside. There's a mighty rush of energy that zaps to the spot. The tug on my own energy is massive as a vortex opens up and materializes two different sized blobs. The light gives way to form and slowly fades into color. There's a final flash and the chalk runes below scatter apart into flaky grains with the expulsion of energy letting loose. In its wake is two very whole and unharmed royal women looking far too happy to be away from the field.

"-utterly lucky! You must remind me to thank Miriel again for this invention of hers."

Maribelle's voice is the first to carry out as the inhabitants of the wall swarm both women.

"And to think I uttered such foul rhetoric. I apologize for sullying your ears with such language, darling. I am utterly ashamed to have succumbed to such base insults!"

Emmeryn barely manages to curve her lips looking too faint to respond. Frederick is the first to her side and she reaches out to him to help support her failing strength.

"Your Grace, are you well? How do you fare?" he worries.

"I am fine Frederick. I need but a moment is all."

Emmeryn looks positively broken-hearted. If it wasn't for the man at her side I'm sure she would have sunk to the floor in grief. To have tried so hard to preserve everything and fail in the end...It's not over though! Lost the battle but not the war. Unless Ylisse falls, we can't just roll over yet.

"Frederick! Get the Exalt away from the wall, now!" Nethys hollers from the right. "Get our barriers up! The enemy's on the move!"

I can only watch helplessly as Frederick whisks Emmeryn past me. She presses close, head bent in sorrow. Her words haunt the air behind her and they break my heart.

"I am so sorry. I've failed us when I was needed most."

No, Emmeryn. Don't apologize. This was only a pipe dream. Your negotiations were doomed from the start.

And just like that, we scatter. Those standing on the wall have seen everything and word has spread before the captains can even get to their squads. The shouts and rattling of weapons show everything falling into place just like they rehearsed. The sound falls deaf to my ears as I sort of glaze over.

All those people. There's so many out there. Can we really take that on? I can't doubt in us or our strength. But it's hard to commit to that when you see...this.

It's just a sea of bodies. Some of them are jeering. Some are cheering for our blood. Others make not a noise at all. Their weapons serenade us with a metallic chorus against their shields. The air is thick with fear and fury.

Behind me, the Ylisseans scramble. Their actions are jerky. Hands shake and eyes flit about nervously. Breathing has deepened to large gasps as if it will be the last sweet flush of air they will breathe. A few of Naga's clerics have turned down evacuation in favor of staying for our men. They offer comforting psalms while the faithful gather around them for one last hope that their God will grant them the luck of seeing her morning light again. Those who believe in their own luck have taken to their posts, the gravity of the situation ranging from pure stoicism to silent tears.

The worst thing you can do before battle is look your fellow in the face. It humanizes them. It makes you remember when they fall. But I can't help it. The little things they do now are more pronounced than ever to me. It's like I can see everything they stand for.

A man presses the top of a child's doll to his lips before placing it into a pouch at his side. A woman takes the pendant at her neck to her bowed forehead and remembers, or perhaps prays. Two elderly mages, one with a scarred face and another with one empty sleeve pinned at the shoulder, perform what can be their final military salute from the old times.

Family. Beliefs. Friendship. Duty. We all fight under different reasons but for the same cause. Spirit is what will get Ylisse through this. As long as we keep that, we will not break.

I won't break. Not again.

I swallow the bile in my throat and close my eyes, taking the deepest breath I can. Remember the names. Remember the sacrifices. Remember not to be afraid.

You will survive this Robin. Your people will survive this. That's all there is to it. No other solution is viable. Acceptable! The only outcome today will be with Ylisse's survival. I'll make sure to do whatever it takes to make that happen. My home is all that matters now, Plegia be damned!

"Robin."

I jerk in surprise to find Virion watching me expectantly. "Yeah?"

"I feel it is most prudent we depart. Strategy is best done when we are not on the end of an arrow's point." He draws a hand back and pulls an arrow from his quiver, dangling it between two fingers theatrically to press his meaning.

"True that. Let's get somewhere safe, shall we?"

We make a quick break for the opposite stairwell intent on getting out of harm's way. Heading along, I feel the strange urge to stop. I don't know what compels me to do so but I find myself looking away just for a moment, searching past the blurs of moving bodies. To my surprise, I find a set of familiar eyes staring back already.

Chrom's body stands in wait across from me as he waits for Idris to join him. I don't know if he happened to catch my gaze at the same moment or he's been looking all along but I'm suddenly unsure how to react. We've barely exchanged words these days outside of the war room. It's fallen on Frederick to do most things lately given how busy Chrom's been. I have to say though, he's an impressive sight to see today. Definitely worthy of his princely title. He looks a lot like what he would be as a Great Lord, flattering cape and all. I can see him easily leading men into battle, inspiring them to fight to their last breaths. It's a trait both he and his sister carry well.

I find my throat constricting and my heart shivers because I can't quell the sudden stroke of fear in me. This is why I can't close my eyes and press my hands to my ears trying to wish this all away. Lives are riding on this battle. Important lives, like those of the Shepherds.

My right hand flexes, a stark and frightening reminder of a potential fate I'm fighting to avoid, much like today. The dream I had in Regna Ferox was vivid. Every detail was too real to believe. The metallic scent in my nose and the hot splattering of blood seeping through my glove material was unbearable. But it was the sick satisfaction I felt from watching the life drain from my own captain's eyes that sent me over.

In an act of defiance to both fate and time, I raise the same hand that delivered the blow and clench it firmly shut. Grima's mark, covered though it may be, presents the Ylissean salute to the crown prince of the kingdom in a show of utter dedication and loyalty. Whatever happened in all the other cycles means nothing now. I don't serve Grima, Naga, or any weird cosmic phenomena. Everything I have to give for this war now belongs to man across the battlements and the grounds he calls home. That's all there is to it.

Chrom's face breaks into something unreadable. It's a flash of so many emotions that he looks completely taken off-guard by my gesture. I don't get to see his further reaction as Virion's polite insistence to continue on pulls me abruptly away. He's right, I have to focus on the battle now. We'll share sentimental words later. In the mean time, I have a job to do.

Ladies and gentleman, we have a battle to win.

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A/N Okay, this was exhausting! For my first large-scale war scene, that packed quite a punch. This chapter was actually much longer originally but I chopped it in half to save my sanity. On the plus side, that means the next update should come sooner. I'm hoping it will be easier to write now that I have a sense of what I'm doing. Ugh. Going through in-depth war politics is hella hard. If you haven't noticed by now, there was a heavy emphasis on the strategy and planning aspects. Gosh, and Gangrel too! I forgot how much of a ham he was in the game while going over the script. The guy bwahahas ever couple seconds. I tried to cut back on the game's over inflated villain tropes and tried to emphasize aspects of what I think a trickster class excels at. He doesn't have pedigree to earn his position as king so he had to convince the people through charisma, words, and tricks he learned from the streets. He's the world's most successful conman! Of course words only get you so far. That's probably the difference between him and Walhart. Walhart earns your trust and then keeps it with his actions. Gangrel talks pretty but his selfish habits damn him in the end. But that's talk for another time. How's everyone digging the new Fire Emblem If info? I really like the village feature. Reminds me of the old Suikoden games. And I reeeeally like the Pokemon Amie petting game. That can only lead to bad things, ha ha! Can't wait!

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Review Responses -

Overlord Valkyrie – Yes! That's the reaction I hoped for when Anna and Donnel snuck in. Two powerhouses in an alliance together. May the retail world fear their future partnership! As for characters appearing ahead of time...maybe someone already has. Or they're at least watching closely, ha ha ha.

Ooo, theory time. While I won't confirm or deny anything, I do like that you all are starting to catch the idiosyncrasies in her thought patterns. Assessing habitual traits and specific repeated thoughts should provide some clues to at least some of the big picture. Hopefully. I don't want to make this too obtuse. As for Marc and Morgan, yeeeeah. That'll go over well. Good luck with that one Robin. You'll need it.

I think I commented once before but I let most people just decide what she looks like. I've made some off-hand remarks here or there on what she physically looks like. My head canon is that she shares traits with the official concept art of the Morgans and Validar. So she's tall like him, pale like the kids, and shares the dark hair they all do. There's also the running joke about her age and somewhat boyish looks.

superattackpea – Believe me, I'm just as shocked at how well both pairings came off! I'm deep in the Sumia/Stahl pit and that's saying a lot because I was hardcore Sully/Stahl when this started. And while I like Robin/Chrom just as much as any other pairing (friendship or romantic), the way they mesh so well in this has me really hooked. Curse this sudden compatibility from no where!

Oh gosh, please don't panic! In case of emergencies like these, hit the plot panic button! It will release a compartment above dropping in ten pounds of fluff and gooey feels. Stay encased in the fuzzies until all negativity passes.

Aw, too bad about Neopets. I use to play Cheat and the pyramid card game all the time. Those were the days.

QwertysHuman – Anna truly is an enigma and poor Donnel's being sucked right in. They're sort of satellite characters in the whole plot but I felt it would be an injustice to keep them out. If the opportunity arises, I wouldn't mind exploring more of her story. And on the topic of expanding stories, I can always do the same for Sumia and Cordelia. I'll add it to the idea pile. Ah, pegasus knights. Vanessa was the bomb. Sacred Stones was my first Fire Emblem and the class was new and awesome and I utterly abused Vanessa to no end. Ha, you caught the Catria thing though. I can see Cordelia emulating Palla. I was simply channeling the lovelorn pegasus knight with tunnel vision trope. Personality-wise, yeah, Palla's a better choice.

Raiden312 – Yep, Cordelia is as human as everyone else. Robin just has a massive lady-crush on her. As with Lon'qu and anyone else, our poor protagonist just likes to embellish and romanticize things. Ah, thank you though. Anna's meant to be a tad...different from the norm. Not the normal Anna one meets when out shopping. And of course I couldn't forget my favorite country nugget. What's the Shepherds without Donnel? I'd like to give all the spot pass and paralogue characters a chance if possible. Anna and Donnel just happen to be the easiest to insert.

The Night Gaunt – Oh, it's beginning alright. It's a nightmare. Ugh. Major props to screen writers for churning this stuff out for movies. Wow, it's tough. But I agree, go Cordelia! Find happiness! You deserve it! Good comparison on Anna! She's made to be a bit out there. Mysterious, snooty, and a lot of sass.

I'll confirm your suspicions. I do happen to be a Troper. Love me some good tropes. I lose whole days browsing around. That said, anything I may have referenced is purely by accident. I hope it wasn't distracting, ha ha. Some of the words have snuck into my day to day vocabulary. Nothing like your coworkers staring at you oddly when you call someone a woobie. Robin actually was born from the "Cool Big Sis" and "Christmas Cake" tropes. She obviously evolved from that but I liked the angles XD

BrowncoatJedi – If you thought 20,000 was crazy, you should have seen this chapter before I called it quits and broke it down. I love me some detailed text apparently!

Aw, thank you. I like trying to explore new situations others stories I've read haven't tried so it takes a bit to plan and more to write, but I think it pans out in the end. Digging up the gritty details and making you feel like you're there in the stories is what I aim to do. Books are meant to take your imagination away after all :)

Heh, Sun Tzu indeed. I've got it on my summer reading list actually. That and the Tale of Genji. Can't wait.

timewastin – Ah philosophizing I see. Excellent.

For your first point, you're right. I agree with all your ideas and the history between the two countries will come to light as the war progresses. Albeit, this is all of my own creation because, as you said, we know nothing next to the last Exalt waging a bloody war that drove his economy to the ground. I chose to write Robin's thoughts as she would think them. It's a line of thought from someone who's come from a sheltered, comfortable life in an era where civil war and religious crusades aren't on her doorstep. Robin's naive and has mentioned before that she's essentially lived a small-town life and enjoys being comfortable and safe in her little bubble. The rawness of this kind of life is a shock to her and she's just philosophizing from her limited point of view. Everything you said is true to a point. Ylisse is flawed. Plegia is flawed. It's been flawed for years, patched up, then ripped apart again over the tiniest of things. But each side blames the other and the reasons are just covered up one layer after another with each generation. The world does reflect that. Robin's limited perspective is just slowly understanding and coping with this. Which also proves your point that she really needs to look broader and bigger. With her first real taste of war, she's going to see just how much wider the game board is. Thinking about the little man is impossible. It's not ten digital pawns on a game gird versus twenty bad guys. It's thousands of bodies against an equal if not larger force.

So point being, yes Robin needs the wake the hell up :)

Ah, that was a great review. Thank you for calling out her flaws so beautifully. Though as an author it does make me wonder if her character development is going too slow. I don't want her to slip and fall as you so eloquently put. I'll poke her processing power just a tad.

As for Anna, she's actually not meant to be taken too seriously. Her whole segment was meant to be a bit of a light-hearted, surreal break from the main plot. A smidgen of crazy humor in the scheme of things. It's meant to be humorous in vein of her reality-warping persona. She's also not an ordinary Anna. She's arrogant for reasons, ha ha. But seriously, that whole part breaks the fourth wall for chuckles. Common sense and logic sort of didn't apply when my aim was for laughs. Sorry if it didn't hit the right funny bone :( All the same, thanks for the super-awesome review. I'm glad people are picking apart the plot and characters. It helps me and it helps the story get better!

King Keith – Poor Robin indeed.

I can confirm our shadowy trio are following her around. The twins certainly seem to think her as one thing. As for our other friend, I do wonder...Hm.

What's going to happen to Viola is that she'll sit in a bed and crab for days with boredom much to her siblings' chagrin. She may be a leader but in private she's just a whiny little sister to them! And I do like my horror bits when I can sneak them in. Scary stuff is my weakness. I can't help it.

I think everyone has their own idea for the Annas. Mine happens to be a bit out there. They're certainly something beyond the norm. Hopefully I'll get to give her more time later. Annas are wonderful, mysterious things. Cool song suggestions too. I've only read the Attack on Titan comics so I never paid attention to the official soundtrack aside from the obvious meme-tastic intro from season one. Pretty cool and a worthy add to the playlist.

Arthogawa – The idea of Echo and Severa ever getting together scares me. The only thing scarier is Echo and Noire. The chaos that could ensue would be devastating, ha ha.

Anna and Donnel are still going to be involved with the Shepherds regardless of things. Anna at least will work as their main supply dealer. I'm thinking she'd tag along much like Merlinus in Fire Emblem six and seven. Donnel's work can set him up for a "mercenary class" so to speak with him guarding her and whatnot. It's a more creative way of getting him into combat and then maybe the Shepherds.

As for our problem children, Robin's isn't necessarily about trust. She's trying to honor her promise to Lucina who made it quite clear she doesn't want anyone involved in this that doesn't have to be. Given the chance and a bit more time, Robin probably would have broken down and at least vaguely hinted at her problems in a roundabout fashion. Sumia though...God, poor thing. Considering people will probably set my story on fire if Stahl isn't endgame romance for her, all her worries just have to stem from moving on from her romanticized daydreams and looking around for what really matters. Both just need time or an insanely prominent declaration to force them to change. Jeez, when you spell it all out though I've got to say Chrom has some serious lady problems going on. Yikes. Too much estrogen building up around here. That boy better start picking someone fast.

ArcherShirou – Aw, thank you! I always appreciate the review.

TheGiantRock – Hey thanks! Glad to see you popping up here and there. No worries about the OCs. Being a large scale story with full military branches and whatnot, I had to fill in the holes somehow. I don't expect people to come in here looking for original characters to love but it's nice if some make an impact. Actions are really what I have to make them stand out anyway. Like you said, just a simple description won't make them memorable. The ones you named are the most relevant so far, anyway, ha. Good enough to get you through the plot. I appreciate the honesty and the advice.

But yeah, glad to hear the content is still fresh and interesting! I liked the scouting mission a lot more than this war chapter. I think smaller, contained missions are more my forte but I can't learn that until I try the big stuff. You know, I was actually afraid people wouldn't like Robin coming up blank on the mission. It's hard to draw a line between balancing her inexperience and her growth into being a useful, productive member of the Shepherds. You summed up my thoughts perfectly here though. How the heck could Robin have come up with a plan when she's barely hanging on to this pegasus' behind compared to several experienced and able-bodied riders? The answer is she can't, ha ha! Realistically anyway.

As for the cards, she didn't take them because she was waiting to use them at the best moment. When summoned they use a lot of energy which alerts sensitive mages to her whereabouts, which is the opposite affect for a stealth mission. Considering they weren't suppose to be found out either, she didn't think she would have need of them. In hindsight, it's probably best to have her take them along in the future though. Luckily my plan was to have her start taking them around here. This is a definite emergency worthy of use.

drunkdragon - Yeah, with mysteries you usually start with more of one than the other. Thankfully Plegia will open up some paths for answers. I just need to update faster!

Pegasus knights are probably among the coolest aspects I tackled in the story so far. Like you, I have warriors who specialize in being messengers, fighters, stealth bombers, etc. I have pegasi as more graceful though. Wyverns are more of the aggressive tactical units thanks to their wild temperaments, protective hides, and claws. I'll happily showcase more aerial tactics later on between both units. I should do something about griffons too.

Titan127 - Ha, yeah there was quite a bit of action there. A lot of misfortune for Robin too. Hope those boots clean well! At this point she'd sell her soul for a roll of puffy toilet paper! And thank you for the continued reviews. The words always help push out the chapters in the end.

A Shadow's Lament - I'm glad you like Viola! I'm trying to keep the gender ratio of bad ass characters as even as possible. And considering who her sister is, it's only natural it runs in the family. As for magic, it's always a favorite part of mine to explore. Human culture has a lot of their roots steeped in magic and can attribute a lot of progression to it, whether you believe in it or not. Especially some branches of science. Considering magic is as natural as gravity in Akaneia, it only seemed natural to me to fuse it all together. Aw, go ahead and root for Echo. The poor kid needs it. I mean he sort of is a good guy. Sort of... It works. You have to be a super-fan to have guessed about the name! Saria came to mind mind when her song popped up on my playlist while coming up with sub names for Sumia. She was my favorite back in the day and remains so now. And Don't worry about the review. Better late than never they say. I'm just glad people still like this enough to comment!

Cyberchao X – Thanks for the multiple reviews. Sounds like you're enjoying it so far. That quote sounds familiar but I can't put my finger on it. I'll have to google it later. Oh! Are you a fan of the Zero Escape series too? Join the club! Best reason I ever bought a DS. I wish the third game would come out soon!