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...

34. Chapter 34

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

Warnings for disturbing content, violence, gore, and Robin's persistently foul mouth

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Chapter 34

So.

I'm in a pickle.

A really, really bad pickle.

I, uh, I think I just got kidnapped. Again. What irony. The only thing that would make this more funny is if another case of amnesia struck. It's like a total repeat of the past. And I'm once again the butt of the joke.

"Let go of me already you pea-brained clod!"

My infuriated shrieks echo off the empty buildings as I tug at my confined arms. Like all the rest of my insults, they disappear into the night overpowered by the battle still raging behind me.

"I swear I will shave off your mustache and feed it to a griffon if you don't release me! You'll be a fashion travesty for centuries!"

My heels scrape through the dirt and slip against cobblestone as I futilely anchor myself in an attempt to press back against my captor. Durst continues to drag us forward like a mindless robot, eyes set for Serene Square. No matter how I manage to squirm or twist he moves right with me. He has no reaction to outward stimuli.

It's been a good bit of time since we've walked. I've yet to see a sign of...whoever that man is back there. He's clearly not the lieutenant we all thought him to be. Apparently he did a darn good job fooling us because he didn't even start to slip until his eagerness began to show through in the end.

Great One. Is that what he called me? What a load of crock. I'll accept Cupcake Queen or Pastry Princess. But the Great One Grima, destroyer of mankind? Nah. That's just tacky. Who wants all that responsibility anyway? Really though, just thinking about that makes me ill. This stupid legacy is causing me more trauma than I need. Just leave me alone already! I don't want your attention!

I can't just sit here and mope. I have to get away before that Grimleal freak catches up to us. I sincerely need to escape this one, even more so than I think Validar or anyone else. I get a familiar, horrific sense of creepies from this guy. Why? It's what he said.

It's that line. 'Found you.'

That's the most poignant sentence that's stuck out in my dreams whenever I catch the tiny blur of my abduction from home. I always feel an acute spike of fear especially when that's spoken. What makes it worse is that I heard it again in my tent when returning from Regna Ferox. It sounds too similar to be coincidental. This man has been tailing me since the beginning.

It freaks me out how possessive he sounds. And the way this guy has always followed me with his eyes! What kind of fudged up thoughts are burning in his brain? I think someone is a little too obsessed with their overlord.

I don't need my gut to tell me to avoid these people like the plague. Pure logic is backing that up just fine. I have to run and warn someone, hopefully without getting pulverized by these Risen. I'd also love to know just what is going down here. Rogue Risen, huh? Odd. And I don't know who the woman is he was talking about. Maybe Aversa? Either way, I hope she loses control of a few more to keep him busy as I get away. I need a plan before I can daydream anymore.

On the bright side, the best thing about having a cop for a mother is that her advice seems to come in handy even when you don't think it will. The second my hormones began to rage and I started to notice boys, Mom gave me the talk. Sure she went through the birds and the bees. She also saw fit to add on what to do when the birds won't get out your hair and when the bees won't stop buzzing.

The first thing is to stay calm. Panicking will inhibit your senses and make the situation potentially worse for you. I can skip her self defense lessons because I'm already physically overpowered. Thanks noodle arms. That means I have to rely on a different set of tactics to help myself. My eyes and my brain. She suggested I could leave an obvious trail if possible. Unfortunately with my hands constricted as they are, I really can't do that.

Now, considering I'm in a public area, she advised that I could make a lot of noise to draw attention to myself. That's something I have been trying quite earnestly for the past few minutes. I had hoped to catch some scattered guards or maybe some civilians who may be feeling heroic enough to try and save a fellow survivor in need. Either the Risen running a muck are doing the populace in or everyone is hiding. It's a good attempt but I don't think it's going to save me.

The other thing I've been doing while shrieking insults at the top of my lungs is keeping an eye out for things. Mom always said to pay close attention on your surroundings. Anything and everything is at your disposal. Typically she meant as a weapon. Allegedly she once subdued a perpetrator with a miniature waste bin. Mom was hardcore like that.

She didn't mean just the physical setting either. I had a brain and I should use it. Analyze the situation. Understand your enemy. Turn things in your favor by exploiting even the smallest upset in them. My current angle has been trying to wake Durst from his milky-eyed haze. The guy's clearly under some enchantment so I'm hoping to try and break through to his persona underneath. I started with attempting to appeal to his overeager sense of justice. After that it was bargaining and now I've been putting out as much intimidation as I can.

"This is your last warning! Let me go and I won't be forced to do something very, very bad. That will hurt! A lot! Tons and tons of pain! You'll be crying for weeks!"

Yeah, still nothing. Rats.

I've already tried kicking, headbutting, biting, and assaulting the nether regions. I get no reaction or end up in pain myself from slamming a body part against his armor.

Oh poo. It's the square. We got here fast. Well fast enough for a grown man dragging a grown woman by her arms. Fun times.

Serene Square is eerily creepy, a stark contrast to what I've known of the area before. The once friendly stands lay abandoned in the haste of evacuation, banners fluttering like ghosts on the breeze. The golden green leaves of the tree that offers welcoming shade in the day now hang together in a dark mass like some monster rising out the center green. A wayward scream drifts by, replaced by another massive explosion somewhere behind me that rocks the earth beneath me. I sincerely hope that wasn't the dragon cannon going off again!

The worst out of everything I see is the three dark figures assembled by the corner fountain.

"Friends of yours?" I ask sarcastically as Durst forcefully pushes us in their direction. As we get closer, I can see the trio better. Two small forms hidden by their long cloaks stand with their back to us facing a third. The last, a woman, remains seated on the structure, straddling the lip of it with one leg in the fountain and one on the ground.

Whoa. What the heck happened to this thing? The fountain's frozen over! I mean utterly cold! The liquid in it has gone completely solid. It shines under the white moonlight, a complete, sparkling ice sculpture despite the temperature being no where near freezing. Is this some sort of magic?

The female must hear us approaching because she turns to us. When I see her face the blood in my veins runs as cold as the fountain itself. T-That isn't a human. The burning fire of a Risen's eyes glint back at me in the darkness.

What's off about it is that they aren't the typical red coloring. This Risen's eyes are a bright blue. They remind me of the open sky on a winter's day. There's a sharp clearness that belies intelligence behind them, an opposite to the feral wildness of the typical undead. The frigid beauty of those eyes do little for the body it belongs to. The owner is just as gruesome as any Risen you may encounter.

Her round face may have once been pretty but is now hollow and void of all color. Her skin is stretched thin over her bones and almost translucent enough to see the veins clogged thick with black blood underneath. As she moves her neck towards me, the muscles seem to resist causing her to look jerky and stiff in her attempt.

There's a fine sheen to her skin, hair, and clothing. The way her long dress and hair cling to her skin, it reminds me of someone who just stepped out of a tub after being submerged wholly. I can't help but do a double take at the hands I see nestled in her lap. Just the fingertips poke out but I can see they are utterly black and twisted with what I'll guess is maybe frostbite.

S-she's just like those other Risen! Black-fingered Bart, the super Risen who attacked us at the Est River! And so too was the one I encountered with the others on the way here. Are they all related somehow?

Durst stops before them and I feel him go completely stiff. Barely a breath rises from him. Tilting my head back, I see he's lost all sense of consciousness. He stares blankly ahead and makes no further actions. I give an experimentative tug and find the grip on my arms hasn't subsided. I pull forward as hard as I can but end up only grunting in annoyance. It's like this man is magically anchored to the ground. I can't get him to even sway. This is not possible!

The others finally turn and immediately cry out in unison. "Your Ladyship!"

Uh, that's an unusually warm welcome for a captive.

It's a boy and girl, their youthful tones mixing almost perfectly. Their boots stomp together as they rush Durst and I. The female lets out a disgusted noise as she stares at the statuesque man holding me tight. Her counterpart peers up curiously from under his hood. They both wear masks shaped like what I think our either wyverns or dragons. It covers their whole faces and I can just make out their eyes from underneath the holes. The boy lets his gaze flit frantically over my body. Unlike the Risen, I see no burn of magical energy from inside them. That means they're human. If that's so, why are two humans and a Risen waiting together? This is beyond bizarre. What am I dealing with here?

It sounds like bones scraping against each other as the woman's mouth drops open. I want to recoil in horror when I hear a voice come out of her stretched jaw. The lips don't move. It's as if her face has frozen in place.

"You arrive alone?" A soft, melodic soprano drifts out from the monstrous husk. It's a jarring experience hearing one thing and seeing another. She sounds slightly irritated with the sight of us. "And guarded?"

"Is he serious? This is how he handles a rescue mission?" The girl on the right exclaims angrily. Closer now, I find her voice stirring up memories. I've heard that same tone at least once before. It's almost unmistakable. Is it? She sounds a lot like Marc!

The boy beside her is not so familiar, though he could easily be mistaken for her in the way he moves. I can only take a guess and say they're maybe around the same age. "This wasn't part of the plan," he protests in her wake. "We should have done things like I proposed."

The Risen speaks quite gently for a monster. "Until our leader trusts your loyalty to the mission you will not see such responsibilities again young one. You know this."

Well, that's a line to remember. The kiddies here have some bad blood in the group? That's good to know. Maybe I can cause some discourse among them later.

"So this is a new joke. Two humans and a Risen walk into a square. Then what? Where's the punchline? I'm dying to know this one," I humor myself with another tug of my arm. When I look to the two before me, I can practically feel the wave of shame and intimidation come off them in the way they step back with heads turning opposite ways to avoid me.

The Risen across from us draws me in with her chilly gaze. "I formerly apologize but what must be done is for the good of us all. A necessary sacrifice we all will willingly face punishment for in order to secure your safety. As for now, you would do best to keep calm and silent. I can assure you, your confinement will be far more pleasant if you remain just so."

"Oh, threatening me are you? That's classy." I force myself to stare back at her though every part of me wants to run away. "Lady, you have another thing coming if you think I'll just stand here like a good girl and keep my mouth shut."

"I have no wish to employ forceful measures against you, even as you are. It would shame me greatly. But, for the sake of the mission, I will resort to such means if you cannot contain yourself."

"But Algidus," Marc starts, the disgruntled whine dying off as she quiets down unsure what to say next.

"This is disrespectful!" The boy finishes for her. He seems to echo everything she says.

Wait, echo her...echo...No. Could it be...? Lucina did say Marc's partner was a manakete and these two are tied to the hip like she and her own mount. Is he...?

"Allowing the unknowing identity free reign will be any better? You forget this mindset does not accept us."

"But if we just explained things better then maybe our Lady will understand," Marc reasons.

"Maybe she'll even remember! Anything could stir it! You won't even let us try," the one I assume to be Echo negotiates just as fiercely.

These two, I don't understand them. They're here plain as day. They're the enemy. Lucina was right all along. I should feel betrayed and maybe a small part of me does. But there's genuine earnest in their motives to keep me safe. Yes, they want Grima back, but they aren't willing to compromise me in the process. As far as it looks to me, Robin is as much a part of Grima as Grima is Robin. Despite one being the physical entity and the other the spiritual, they are no different. This Algidus and the others seem to think otherwise. Or at least I think so. Bottom line is that I'll most likely die no matter what they plan so I'll fight tooth and nail to prevent that.

But Marc and Echo, where do they fit into all of this? They seem different than Algidus and the mysterious mole back there. Lucina told me they're probably the most loyal retainers to Grima, which I have evidence enough of. Marc's a skilled general and Echo is her manakete partner who are both responsible for the deaths of the princess' countrymen. Yet, at the same time, I've come to see them as allies more than enemies even when among their own people. Never have they seemed at all threatening, even when they stand before me now.

I can't explain the strange fondness I've developed for these two and it doesn't seem impacted the least by anything that's going on. If anything, deep down a part of me feels a combination of sadness and disappointment. Why? I have no idea. The basis of these emotions is shrouded in a mystery of lost memories and past lives I'm sure. As is everything else. I'm just learning to roll with it now and use it to my advantage.

So now I'm at an impasse. This is where Mom's advice comes in. Find the opportunities in the environment and use them. Here, my greatest chances at survival lie on these two. What I have to do now is wait for a chance and use it to my expertise. Unfortunately that moment is not now. So I'll just have to stall and watch a little longer. That's fine. I'm trying not to let the emotion cloud my mind but my initial fear is being overridden by the tenacious fury of survival.

"Letum has made it clear there will be no alternatives. He warned us of our Master's stubborn determination, a trait that carries through as strong as it did before. His current condition is proof enough of that. She will not be set free," Algidus chides with maternal impatience to the duo before her, "Please do not provoke his ire further."

"Letum huh? So you all work together," I murmur. A hostile, raw feeling stirs alive deep down.

The priest's name sets suppressed emotions blazing. If there is one thing I will not push away it is the utter hatred I have for that man. The mastermind of all my suffering, he's numero uno on my growing shit-list. I was happy. Content. I would never have dealt with this scarring, mentally and physically. I could still be with my friends. I could still be with my peace of mind. You all robbed me of that. Everything!

I lean forward as far as I can glaring daggers at her. "You've made a hell of a mistake allying with him, fish-face. After everything you've done to me, I'll make sure to wipe you both personally from the face of this dimension and every world thereafter. Not a shred will be left. You can be sure of that."

Both kids jerk away from me in surprise, the girl letting a muffled eep of shock at my reaction. Marc catches the boy by the arm to steady herself as he tilts his head to the side. She whispers something to him and he nods slowly. She then parts from his side and announces the next part loudly.

"She's still scary when she wants to be."

"Are you sure she isn't all herself?" her partner adds.

A masculine laugh breaks the mood, loud and amused. "Clearly if Master Grima was, none of you would be alive."

Echo sucks in a quick intake of air and tenses. His rider bristles and inches a hand closer to her back where the edge of her weapon pokes out.

"Piss, poke, and choke a goat," Marc chants out the familiar Feroxi curse under her breath. Couldn't have said it better myself.

"Pravitus, you finally return," Algidus welcomes.

The familiar noxious smell of rotten food and sweet flora fill the air. Not-Bradon has finally joined us, much to my horror. The heavy thump of his footfalls draw from directly behind me. They continue their stroll as he calls out to the Risen far off.

"Algidus, congratulations. I actually had to exert an ounce of effort in dispatching your wild creations. A far better outcome than the last batch."

The last batch? Is he implying she is creating these Risen? If so, I think I solved where our super Risen are originating from. The question is whether she's the only one or if there are more.

There's a thick squelching sound as something large lands before us. It rolls to a stop allowing me a chance to focus on it. It's the shredded upper torso of one of the Ylissean guard that walked with us before. An obscene amount of scratches riddle the man's skin and his armor has been peeled from his body like a banana. I don't know where his legs went but they clearly look chewed off.

"Oh man." I can't help but draw back from the sight. That poor soldier. What did this guy do to him?

"Dinner for you, dear Algidus. I fear if you lose any more stamina the whole horde will go feral on us."

The Risen peers at the corpse with a renewed glow in her eyes. The open jaw moves back and forth, bones still cracking with each swing. Her body rises with a great twitch, jerking to the left before straightening up again. She moves to lift her foot and I start to hear the faint trickle of water. The fountain is thawing? She pauses and lowers herself causing the air temperature to drop again.

"I cannot stray any longer. I have exerted too much power." Her bright blues drift to us and settle on Marc. "Child, will you not help and deliver this closer to me?"

I gape in unconcealed disbelief. Is she really going to eat him?

Marc's shoulders sag and she lets off the huff of a teen unwilling to do their chores. She eyes the man approaching over my shoulder and then pulls out the weapon on her back, dropping it in both hands. "Hope you don't mind me staking it because I am not touching that filthy human corpse!" she whines.

Should I be laughing or screaming?

"So the little puppet performed after all. Finally, one of these animals provides some use," Pravitus sighs wearily. I was right in what I heard earlier. His voice is different. It's dropped and he sounds far more eloquent than before. His tone is smooth and silky. When he finally enters view, I find the new intonation matches his transformed looks. It's like he's shifted into a new person. All that remains are the same eerie green eyes of his and the blonde coloring of his hair.

Pravitus is the stuff romance novels are made of. That is disturbing to even admit. But the man is a sculpted statue from the antiquities come to life. The guy is perfectly chiseled and perfectly symmetrical. Not a flaw on his carefully crafted features. The strong jaw, sweeping long hair, clearly defined muscles under his clothes... I wouldn't hesitate to throw my virginity on the auction table for one night with this guy. Almost. That's if he wasn't a klepto psychopath whose hobbies include mass murder and kidnapping. All he does for me now is make me want to kick him in the man-parts and shove him in a dumpster. A recycling dumpster ready to mash him into itty-bitty pieces!

I try to glare back but the predatory glean he has while looking me over makes my knees knock. There is something very wrong with this man. I'm not just talking about the whole face-stealing ability. Everything inside of me screams he's not human.

"Great One," he whispers in a breathy way you'd attempt to seduce someone. "After all this time. I finally have you."

What is this guy's deal? Ew! Do not want! Abort!

He reaches out and takes just a single strand of my hair, rubbing it between his gloved fingers. The intimacy here is making me question my darker half's interests. Is this Grima's lover or something? And now he's macking on me? I'm not that desperate!

"Piss off!"

"Shove off!"

"Hands off!"

Three simultaneous interjections of denial erupt in the square with the same vehemence in each shout.

Pravitus leans back and blinks in shock as the three commands fade away. My own furious rejection is mimicked back in that of Marc and Echo. The boy's lurched forward and has his hand around Pravitus' wrist to pull him back from me. Behind him, Marc has her bloody spear out and holds it up in both arms. I can see a faint pulsating spell from it. Following the thin string of purple light down, I see the long reach of her polearm's shadow stretch far more than it should. The line shivers and sways against the ground in a magical crawl all the way to his arm. The bizarre appendage poking up from the stonework has snagged around him and wrapped several times over.

"You dare?"

Pravitus' handsome face starts to crack apart as his anger pours through. There's the same strong spike of energy around him that I had felt earlier as his free hand sneaks into the bag at his hip. "You dare put your filthy, tainted hands on a purebred?"

Purebred? Like as in a species thing?

"Curb your ego, Pravitus. You are out of line. We are not to touch Master Grima unless it is to forcefully transport the unwilling body. Is that not our orders?" Algidus' feminine laugh drifts over, followed by a crack of something breaking between her teeth. I refuse to look and see. "Stay your anger from the children."

Echo lets go of his arm though it still remains suspended by Marc's own strange spell. The kid places himself between us. It's a brave effort even if he only comes up to my nose and barely the top of Pravitus' collar bone. "Knowing or not, you do not touch our Lady," he announces dangerously. There's a similar build up of energy from around him. The immediate atmosphere is getting stifling.

Marc's strange spell wriggles away allowing his captive arm freedom. The elder male breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes closed as he tries to zen out. His anger drains away and an unnerving calm settles back over him. He stays quiet for a moment then a smile begins to form.

"Forgive me. My relief fueled my eagerness too soon. I will refrain from further action for the time being. It is best I save by adoration for when you remember and can truly appreciate it."

Though he sounds like he's normal again, he moves stiffly. His muscles are tight and compact as if ready to spring into motion. Echo and I both watch him uncertainly as he circles around us.

"Be a good little abomination and keep your master confined until Algidus and I finish our evacuation plans," he commands airily.

"But she's already-"

I hear a strange, gargling sound that's followed by something wet and warm hitting the back of my neck. The grip around my wrists slackens and falls away completely. I stop myself just short from investigating Durst's disappearance as the tearing of flesh sounds. I suppress a shriek of horror when the bones start crunching. He's not...Is he?

There's no screaming. Durst makes no sound the whole time the gore continues. It ends with a heavy thump as I feel the Ylissean drop.

"Remember, I command this mission. And..."

Pravitus casually struts around us. He pauses just short of Echo and stretches out his hand, dropping the carnage in it next to the boy's feet. The man leans in to his ear and whispers murderously. "...never place your filth on me again. Either of you. This is your final warning."

"Oh fuck...fuck..." I stutter while staring at the mess of my former compatriot. My brain has gone as blank as the void emptiness in Durst's dead eyes. I try to think but all I know is the white static of my brain buzzing with the feeling of how broken my reality has gotten. He just...he just pulled...Tore his...

"Bind her," he hisses a final time before straightening up with his prior smile. He calls to the Risen as he makes a pointed glare at Marc. "Algidus! I presume you will be making an opening for us to slip through-"

His voice fades away and I can't even focus. I'm shaking so hard my teeth are chattering. Sure, I didn't know Durst that well but he was still a fellow soldier. He has a wife. Kids. He was a lieutenant and...and he was alive not long ago. Then that...that monster...with his bare hands he...

I stumble back but my limbs are sluggish and slow. My hand moves through invisible molasses as it reaches for my tome. My fingers just brush the tips of the pages, my pointer catching the corner of one of the two Einherjar poking out from between the paper. I pull up the corner of Marth's card but I find myself forced to stop there.

I barely acknowledge that Echo has been casting. He's pulled a book out from somewhere and now balances it in the crook of his arm. I have a brief moment to appreciate the semantics of the spell. The runes flicker to life at almost the same speed Miriel demonstrates when she casts. Purple symbols comes together in a smokey haze before his fingertips. They pulsate oddly to a hidden rhythm and hang in the air with a hypnotic glow about them. The air seems to get cooler as magic begins to build.

The boy's shadow starts to ripple like a puddle. The long shape on the ground shifts and grows outward into numerous dark strands. The mass wriggles like snakes before collecting into straight lines. It's near identical to Marc's earlier trick.

Echo's spell connects with me in seconds. I feel a cold sensation run down to my core when the darkness of his shadow reaches into my own. A slimy sensation runs up my toes and continues to slither around my legs and up my torso. Maybe it's a trick of the light but I swear that my body seems to go several shades darker in correlation with the rising feeling of it. My muscles restrict and I find myself rooted to the spot. I've lost all motor skills beneath by neck.

"Dark magic," I murmur numbly.

"Forgive me. I'm not doing this by choice," Echo apologizes quietly. The magic holding me tight hangs from his fingers like puppet strings. "They're not leaving us with many alternatives at the moment."

I can't find it in me to respond. Things just got real. I...I need to pull my wits about me. I can mourn later. My life is at stake here. I need to get out of here now. Suck it up Robin. What would the Shepherds think of you just losing it and giving up? The fight's not over yet.

Focus mode. What's around you? Four exits. A frozen fountain. Some ballista in repair and supply boxes abandoned in the rush to arms. Four others beside yourself. Allies are too far to rely on.

Okay, what's on you? Magic tomes. A bottle of elixir. My map. A simple sword. My two Einherjar.

Who's here? Myself. A Risen, Algidus. A manakete and a human, Echo and Marc. A...guy, Pravitus.

Finally, what do I know? The two adults here are in charge. The kids are with them but sort of on the outs. They especially seem to hate Pravitus. I don't blame them. The guy's a dick.

They won't severely harm me but they aren't opposed to force if needed. The kids, however, are entirely against it. They're also loyal. Fiercely so. I also can guarantee that Letum is not here so I have no need to worry about him. This freak show is everything you see here.

Ability-wise, Algidus is behind the Risen threat. She's controlling them to some extent and seems bound to the fountain. She needs water to survive maybe? Or is that her source of power? Either way, she won't leave it. The kids are rather obvious though this dark magic ability is new to both of them. Pravitus can impersonate others, ensnare their minds to a certain degree, and is at least a decent fighter if he's stayed hidden this long as a guard. Not sure if he's also human or something else which makes him extra worrisome.

Okay, that's what I've got to work with. I need to brainstorm this.

Let's start with the big picture. Algidus is the largest threat here. She is the sole source of power with the Risen. If I can shut her down, that's one less distraction for the Ylisseans and I to face. They can shift all the power back onto Plegia and hopefully overtake them. Gods, I hope they're all doing okay. I have all sorts of faith in Virion holding the gap. I'm sure he's got a scheme going on right now to end that dragon cannon. But here, I can do good too. Ending her will not only secure me safety but the battle's as well.

Now to the smaller picture. I've been kidnapped. Yay! I am alone and isolated from the rest. My sole bit of hope is that someone asks Virion where I am and realizes no one got orders from Eldaran to take me into the city. I can't hold out on that though. Allocating even more troops to attempt to find me will stretch us over three different objectives. As far as they know, I'm nothing above ordinary. I'm expendable to both other threats at hand.

Pravitus is the endgame. He's got unknown potential and there's always a possibility he may attempt to turn more moles against the Ylisseans like Dur-

…...

Oh God. Okay, breathe. In. Out. Don't freak. It's sad but mourn later! Alright, focus again. T-there's that possibility. He's also stronger than me and a better fighter. Facing him alone is suicide, especially since I'm not taking into account if the kids will be by his side.

Those two are my wild cards. Marc and Echo stand in a moral gray zone. They seem to be pledged completely to Grima and revile all the current actions toward me. Yet, Echo still cast a spell on me to keep me bound. They are following the others' orders, albeit begrudgingly.

I suppose I don't have to use them at all. If I get to Marth and Caeda I think we'd be able to handle things. With Algidus stuck in one spot, it'd be a three on three battle. I suppose the former could call in Risen but that would maybe risk me getting injured.

Sheesh! How many variables are there to think about? I wish Virion was here.

"She's planning something," Echo's voice drifts in through my thoughts.

"It's probably how she's going to punish us all," Marc cringes.

I look up. Somewhere along the way Marc's joined the two of us as the others converse beyond. Both watch me eagerly, the girl at a lean on her spear and the other with his spellcasting hand resting by the elbow in his other for support.

"If it isn't Thing One and Thing Two," I utter weakly. My humor falls as flat as my voice.

Both glance at each other before Marc reaches out and jabs Echo in the arm. "Hear that? She called me One and you're Two! Guess that finally proves who's best."

He pulls away from her hand and shakes his head. "No she didn't. You're obviously wrong. I have to be One and you're Two. I'm older and seniority always wins over skill."

"That's stupid, faulty logic. We came out at the same time," she argues back.

I can imagine Echo is glaring. "Not true. I have fifteen minutes on you according to Fathe-"

Marc raises her hand and slaps it over his mouth, waving the other frantically in warning. "Sh! Sh! You can't say that, remember?"

As Echo muffles words against her palm, the little equation in my head comes together as I process what they just said. It sounds like they're siblings. Not just that but twins! And was that mention of a father? Grima is hosting a family unit among her generals. I did not expect that. That makes things even more weird. Where did Grima pick them up? And why is one a manakete and the other human? Unless Marc is hiding more to who she is than that. But why not just fly herself around then? Strange.

"Don't think so hard on it you two. It's just an expression. Stick with Marc and Echo. I like those better," I interject into their spat. Suddenly them being siblings makes all the sense in the world after that little display.

"Oh, you know about those?" Marc says slowly as if suddenly afraid.

"I've heard. Is that wrong?"

"No," Echo tentatively answers. He sounds like he's really reading into my intentions. "You don't mind us having those?"

I have no idea why they sound so confused about what I call them but I continue trying to sound amicable to stay on their good side. "It's better than One and Two. At least Marc and Echo are real names."

The sister grabs her brother's arm and shakes it hard. "Did you hear that, real names!" she giggles excitedly.

"Yeah," he murmurs in shock.

Every action I give seems to cause another reaction of surprise. Is it the concern I exhibit that throws them off? Or is it me vocalizing interest in their well-being? It's spooking me regardless!

Mostly, I'm curious as to why me addressing them like that is giving them such a kick. Did Grima make a habit of calling them something else? I wouldn't be surprised, especially if Marc is human. If they're excited over me calling them One and Two, I suspect the names used prior were far worse. Pravitus sure isn't showing them any love. Why would the ultimate enemy of mortal life do any better?

And the Boss of the Year award goes to Grima. Nothing like treating your peons as objects to really drive devotion!

"Man, what have you two been through up until now?" I ponder out loud without thinking.

Marc proudly puffs out her chest causing her spear to come down with a tiny plink against the cobblestone. "Plenty, Ma'am. We've endured trials and tribulations to free you from the humans and we'd do so again."

"Absolutely. All we want is your safe return to us," Echo adds.

The grim laugh I bark out comes unbidden. "Are you serious? My safe return?"

The rider deflates a little. "What do you mean?"

"Kid," I answer dimly, "I've been safer with these 'humans' far more than I have been at the hands of these jerks." I gesture with my head to the far off duo. "I've only known pain and suffering whenever they rear their ugly heads."

They're silent. I don't think they can deny that.

"I'm guessing it's only going to get even more fun once I end up in your leader's hands. Letum, right? He's probably got a few choice words for me after what I put him through." I get a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that bastard isn't here because of what we did to him.

"Yeah," Marc tapers off. She sounds less than enthusiastic about that arrangement.

"You don't sound too happy." I'm feeding off their discord from earlier. Maybe I can get some information prodding up the bad juju. "Troubles with your teammate?"

"It's nothing," Echo promptly interrupts.

I don't let that discourage me. The brother seems to be the careful one. His sister is more emotional and prone to talking out of turn. So I continue to goad her. "Are you sure? Because it seems to me like you two and the others don't get along all that well."

"We don't," Marc bluntly puts.

"A difference in intentions? You both seem fairly peaceful compared to these morons and their pain-happy tactics." A swelling of vain, hot anger seethes at my core as I picture the marred skin of my left arm. The sentence comes out harsher than I intend. "That Letum scarred me for life, you know. If he just asked politely maybe we could have talked something out. But no, he had to go and act like a grade-A ass about it."

Though my words are fueled by emotion, they are meant to drive a deeper wedge in their loyalty. They are fiercely protective of me and knowing their precious priest has done permanent damage might convince them to aid me even more.

It seems I've made a bit of success. Marc draws into herself. The hands on her spear twist and turn against it at my words. They've clearly angered her. Her eyes are narrow slits under her mask. Echo, however, remains calm. If anything, he's now regarding me with extreme interest. Is he aware I'm trying to play them? I can't honestly tell.

"We share a common goal. Grima's chosen remain together despite all because of that," Echo quietly retaliates. His tone stays even and he remains fixed on me waiting patiently for an answer.

"So the only thing keeping you all together is my recovery. It's how you they execute their plans which is what's upsetting you," I theorize. "Can't blame ya. These scenarios they keep dreaming up suck butt."

Echo mulls over my words, not responding but instead continuing to watch.

Marc continues to seemed ruffled over the situation. She lessens her grip on her weapon, moving a hand to pull anxiously at a wrinkle in her cape. She sounds tired and irritated. "You're just a little broken is all. It's not your fault. We're doing our best to fix things as we can."

"I'm not broken," I stubbornly refute. The prior anger swaps to annoyance.

"Mmhm. Sure." She answers unconvinced. Marc pats the rogue fold down and proceeds to speak again. "Once we get you away from here, everything should return to normal."

I scoff. Is she serious? "Yeah, normal. Turning me into a bloodthirsty monster is everything I dreamed of."

Marc's hand comes to rest before her mask in a worrying fashion. She sounds hurt to hear me speak in such anger. "You aren't a monster, my Lady. I know you cannot remember but you must believe us. What the humans have told you is wrong! You are the greatest being to walk this planet. You are doing the justice our kin have needed for millenia."

Echo mirrors her sentiment, the pain straining through his strong words. "You are the champion of our people. The only monsters here are the humans." Another strange flare of energy from him. Is that related to his manakete self? It's so powerful. He practically growls out the next lines. "They stole everything from you. The humans locked it all away so they could usurp power for themselves."

His partner nods vigorously. "And Naga betrayed our brethren for power and greed. It's because of the divine dragon's aid that the humans now worship that name as the sole god of this world."

This is referring to past events. I think they're talking about the war that occurred before Marth's birth. This is back when humans and dragons walked side by side in large numbers. Something happened to corrupt the mighty dragon race and they had to seal their powers to stay sane or risk losing it all. This spiraled into a war of prejudice between the two. Led by the Earth dragon Medeus and his kingdom of like-minded kin, the forces clashed. Marth's predecessor Anri was the first to wield Falchion and fought alongside those who held the Fire Emblem to repel the kingdom of manaketes. Naga created the holy weapons from her own body and eventually entrusted them to the humans to slay the rebel dragon prince. Once Medeus was destroyed, Naga was deified in the eyes of humans thanks to her aid.

But that was thousands of years ago. Grima only came about in legend two thousand years past. Still, were they a dragon like Medeus who was sick of the treatment of manaketes at the hands of others? Or was there something more? The whole mythos behind Grima is shrouded in mystery and the game never went too deep into it. As much as I'd like to delve further into what they know, I don't have time.

"So Grima, or myself supposedly, is pissed off with humans for mucking around with the dragon species. In retaliation, I created a new genocide to excuse the old? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" I protest with the shake of my head. I can't believe how idiotic Grima's logic is! Who thinks of something like that? It's one thing to go after the ones who wronged you. It's another to take out that rage on a whole species! What the hell Grima?

Marc talks to me like she's trying to calm a pouting child. But there's a hint of nervousness behind her actions. She leans in close to her spear and hugs it close for security. "You don't understand now. That's okay. When we fix everything, you won't have to worry anymore. It will all make sense again."

If I wasn't bound as I was my foot would have stomped down. My insides twist in the agony of release as the pent up desperation builds higher. "I don't need to be fixed! Even if I was, am, your leader I currently like how I am. I don't want to change into something like..."

I feel the flush of anger rise. It's a spontaneous surge of frustration. Human emotion is a merciless thing and I've severely reached my limit with these people. How can they be so blind to things?

I gawk incredulously at the two, breaking at the seams. "Do you really miss the old me? The manipulative, evil, tyrannical one? A supposed god seeking absolution only with death? Or don't you both understand how twisted that mentality really is?"

I'm vaguely aware that I'm derailing my attempts to escape. I falling into a vulnerable pit of feels that I don't have the luxury of indulging in. But these two, what is it about them that bothers me so much? It's not a reflection of other Robin. I've not remembered a thing about them in her image.

I know the real me doesn't want them here. Not because I dislike their presence. I'm scared for them. I'm scared for their well-being and the simplistic mindsets they've been raised with. It's pretty clear to me after the little we've spoken today just how warped their image of Grima is. They think of the dragon as some infallible god and are wholly accepting about how normal the mental abuse they've been through is. Gods be damned. What is happening in this world?

My voice shakes. "Earlier, you seemed happy that I liked your names. You made it seem like...that is...What exactly are you two to Grima? What did she call you?"

I nearly scream when I hear their responses.

"We are your right and left hands. The instruments of your reckoning," Marc shrugs with nonchalance.

Echo continues, repeating a speech he's probably heard time and time again. To these two, this is pure logic and fact. "We exist first and foremost as simple tools to further the glory of your name. Anything else after that is inconsequential. We're whatever you want us to be."

"T-that's bullshit! You're a couple of damn kids who have no business being out on the field with a couple of freaks like them!"

This feeling is just like when Lucina began to lose it the day she tried to expose me as Grima. Helpless despair. It's an adult fear I've never truly experienced before. The horror of seeing young people helplessly caught in the throes of life's worst situations. I don't know how Grima came to take on these two. I don't know what is up with this father they mentioned. But I know that my alter ego has twisted these innocents too far. They don't even know how bad off they are. They barely have an identity of their own!

I need to fix this.

N-no. I have to fix me first. I have to get out of this. But Marc and Echo are...Shit! I did not sign up for this!

"This is all wrong. What is it with you two?" My eyelids flutter shut as my head falls to my chest. The corner of my lip starts to break as I bite down into it. "Why in the hells would you want me to go back to that? Some sociopathic, abusive overlord. I probably didn't care a bit about your lives. That much is clear from what you've said. How could you even return the devotion to something so one-sided? So cold."

"But-"

"But nothing!" My words waver in my disgust. The ideas keep swirling like a tornado in my brain but none of it makes sense. I can't accept things to be as they are. "What kind of leader treats their soldiers lower than dirt? Who brainwashes them into thinking they're only objects?"

I raise my eyes and stare at the twins. They blur in a prismatic haze as I blurt out all my feelings. "Don't you get it? You. Are. Alive."

The two have frozen in place. There's little to read when they're covered from head to toe in concealing gear. I'm just guessing from the silence that they're stunned. These aren't the typical words of the master they know. That's because I'm not Grima.

"You two aren't nameless puppets to be pushed around by me or anyone else! Please understand that. If you want to carry these identities, then so be it! Your names are Marc and Echo. You both are free thinking souls." I punctuate the last line with definitive authority. "You are not tools."

"Master?" Marc barely ekes out.

"I am so, so sorry you've been taught this," I whisper. "You deserve better than that."

The strange sadness that's taken hold starts to recede like the tides of the ocean. Despite still being bound and captured, I feel liberated. The heavy ball of anxiety in my chest melts away. This only confuses me more.

I really don't understand a thing about myself anymore.

There's a thick, heavy silence filling the space around us. I can hear the voices of the other captors beyond us. It seems our little scene has yet to grab their attention.

I exhale deeply. I'm so done with this crap. Let me just slay the villains and then run off into the sunset on my trusty steed. I need away from all of this. Me, a McLobster, and the beach. Sounds great.

The twins though? I can't harm them even if I tried. I know what Lucina said. I'm insane to do this. But I owe them just this once. Take this opportunity I'm giving you and run you stupid kids. Let's all get a happy ending for once.

I sound utterly exhausted as I deliver a final ultimatum. "If I am Grima and you are beholden to my word then do this. I-I'm ordering you to let me go. Then you run as far from here as possible. If the Ylisseans won't kill you, Lucina and her friends will."

No reaction.

"I don't care what your goal is. What I do care about is my own selfish desire to live peacefully. That's my plan. That's what your Grima wants. To do that, I need get rid of every last thing standing in my path here. The Plegians, the Grimleal, the Risen...I don't want you there when I start swinging. So please, just get out of here and let me do my thing. As your master or whatever, I'm giving you full freedom to do whatever you want from now on. Go buy a bunch of candy or become pirates. Anything you want!"

"Please." That's not me ordering anymore. That's begging.

The faint cool of the spell holding me slides down to my shoulders as Echo lowers his spell hand. He steps before me and cranes his neck up to look me in the face. The boy's real close. It's hard to tell in the dark but his iris color is likely a similar shade to my own. Marc's is different, darker, but both are an unidentifiable shade of gray in this night lighting. I wonder who each takes after. I wonder who their parents are. Who would allow this to happen to them?

"This is not what we were expecting her to do," he startles me, saying that in a hushed tone.

"Yeah," Marc answers with a turn of her head. She seems guilty.

I stare back at him. What's he implying?

"What will you do then, if we release you? What's your plan?" he presses curiously. I feel as if this is a test to him. He's feeling me out. For what, I have no idea.

"My plan?" Oh, I have one alright. My finger itches to swipe out the Einherjar and lay into the two beyond us. These unfortunate suckers are in the wrong place at the wrong time. The nature of my wrath will go full force on these two. They'll be a message to Letum and all the Grimleal who decided they want to fuck with me. My peace.

But more importantly, I have to protect the Ylissean flank. These Risen are a dangerous distraction. Sandwiched between two fronts, they'll burn out. I need to stop them!

The thirst for their demise threads through and gives a feral twist to my otherwise protective desire. "I'm going to do exactly what I said I would. I am going to end them. Permanently."

Echo's eyes squint. He let's out a little noise of surprise. "Hm."

"Did you feel that? I did," his sister points out. She seems just as intrigued as him.

"I think he's right. If that's true then..."

Something's going on here that's not obvious. The secret behind their ramblings is beyond me.

"This isn't how I would have expected her to approach us," Echo reasons cautiously. "It's obvious she'd try to negotiate. But this is oddly more in character than any of the plots she could have attempted. Blunt. Forward. No strings attached. How strange."

Marc comes up beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Why's she being like this then? If we're wrong and something else happened then..."

"What do you think we should do?" she continues.

"She did just give us the order to do whatever we wanted." Marc lightens up at those words as Echo lowers his head and stares at the spell engulfing his palm. "I think-"

"I think you should give meaning to your pitiful existences and get back to culling the stray scouts pressing in on us. You've dallied long enough."

Both teens spin around to face the bored looking shifter approaching us.

"Pervitas," Marc greets mockingly. Ouch, burn. Also, hilariously accurate. Even so, she tightens the hold on her spear and eyes him like prey from the hunt.

Pravitus' left eye tweaks a bit at the name calling, yet he remains level-headed. "I'll be relieving you both of duty. Algidus and I are to leave now while you secure our path. Surely that's something even a few atrocities like yourself can manage."

I push against my invisible restraints, angered by his words. "Shove a corncob up that cake hole of yours, pretty boy."

The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement. "Oh, the things you say! At least your spirit remains in tact."

He makes a move for me and I stiffen in horror. He is not going to put his hands on me. I will gnaw on him all day if that's the case.

Both Marc and Echo quickly come together, shoulder to shoulder. Their protests burst out at the same time.

"Wait!"

"You can't just yet."

Pravitus looks down his nose at them clearly unamused with their intervention. "Explain. Quickly."

"We...we have tooooooo..." Marc looks to Echo for help.

"We have to take her to the bathroom," he adds resolutely with the bob of his head.

The elder looks annoyed. "You must do what?"

Marc snorts derisively. "She has to go pee, you dunderhead!"

"You aren't going to make her hold it, are you? It's a long walk," her partner reasons. "It'd be pretty demeaning to have her Ladyship use a bush. She probably wouldn't remember that too fondly later on."

"Uh, yeah!" I exclaim in a needy voice. "When you gotta go, you gotta go! You feel me?"

Between all three of us and our cheesy smiles, you'd think we were some gag out of a comedy script.

And yet, he buys it.

"You are serious." He sneers and turns away in a huff. "Do what you must. Quickly. I wish to depart before the stench of this place settles onto me permanently."

"Yep, can do," Marc assures him confidently. When he turns his back, I hear a loud "Nnnn!" as she sticks her tongue out at him.

Echo plays with his spell and I feel it shrinking from both sides of my body until they settle solely over my middle to keep my arms pinned as they are.

"Come on!" he whispers urgently as he leads the three of us out of the square. The spell tugs like a rope and I follow in the duo's wake.

"This is baaaad. What are going to do? We only have a few minutes," Marc stresses as we walk toward a side alley just outside the nearest exit.

Echo pulls us just out of sight, giving a final wave to the man watching us from afar. Concealed by the hedges and walls of the buildings around us, the boy shakes his hands free. The spell snuffs out and I feel the restraints fall away.

The arm buried in my shirt falls. The shock of blood flow sends pins and needles into my skin as I flex it back and forth trying to return feeling to it.

The realization of my freedom and the urge to bolt comes just as Echo speaks. He sounds careful and unsure. Both of his hands are still raised as if to placate me.

"Please don't run. We'll all be in trouble then."

My gaze darts between them both. I'm almost expecting another trap to occur. "You actually set me free."

"We did, didn't we?" Marc answers in disbelief. She presses a few fingers to her forehead.

Echo just shrugs matter-of-factly. "Whose to say we wouldn't have at another point. We did think about it."

"Why?" It's all I can muster.

"Why indeed?" the sister says mysteriously.

"We have reasons," the brother follows up. "And now we've added a few more. We can't do anything if we aren't sure."

"The ceremony could break you more," she alternates in again. "That would be even more bad."

"We'll tell you later. For now, all we need to do is leave. Fast!"

"Leave? As in the city? We're running from everything?" I stammer as both grab a hand and pull me further into the darkness.

"You told us to leave. And you're free," Echo points out.

"But we'd be horrible servants to let you run around still broken as you are. Let us help instead. It's really what we want!" Marc continues happily. "Trust us! It will be like it was before! You won't miss a thing about this old life. And you'll be far more peaceful with us than even the humans!"

For a brief moment, the idea is intoxicating. The strange lure of destiny is almost too great. I can dump everything off my lap. I'd be free of responsibility and war. No Grimleal or time traveling shenanigans to worry about. I can run far from here and focus only on me. My problems. No one else. I could find a way home. I feel my foot slide forward. A step forward toward the unknown.

It stops.

That isn't what I'm meant to do. I have another path to walk tonight. Not the original Robin's. Not Grima's. Mine. It leads right back to that square.

I can't-won't bring these two into it. They don't deserve anymore misfortunes thrust upon them.

The twins jerk to a halt at my refusal to budge. They both look back over their shoulders with wide, questioning eyes. My fingers slide through their own and I offer a sad smile in apology as I step back.

"Ma'am?" Marc questions innocently.

"I'm sorry," I somberly state. "That's not the plan anymore."

"But you-"

"I don't know what's going on. I do know I want answers but tonight is not the night for that. If you want to help me later, then do so. Find me when it's all over. For now, I just want you to stay out of my way, just like I asked. I owe you for the Arena and the night in the field. A life for a life."

"I know you think I don't understand anything. You probably think I'm being all human. You're right. But it's the same for me. I don't think you understand everything either. I think you're all the evilest villains I've ever had the pleasure to know. That probably makes me also right. In a sense, no one knows what's going on and trying to figure this out in the middle of a bloody war that will kill both our sides if the truth gets out is a bad idea."

The two freeze. My refusal to go with them only leaves two outcomes. I'm left to my own devices or they bring me back to be left to the mercy of the strangers in the square. In their minds, it's a loss either way. They just want their boss to remember them. They must be torn. Duty. Devotion. Old plans. New plans. What do they believe in? What do they chance?

Perhaps they would have responded an entirely different way. They sure look like they are about to speak when they stop again. The siblings both look toward our left. It's not the wooden wall they're feeling out. It's something beyond, much like Ricken had when he sensed the magic spell working on the field.

"No way," Marc utters in surprise. "That's where he's been this whole time?"

"He's guiding them this way." Echo closes his eyes and concentrates harder. "Algidus' Risen probably know by now. That changes everything."

"What's wrong?" I ask hesitantly.

"I bet he heard us," Marc lightly laughs. "He must really like our master's plan better. Guess we should do something about it then."

"Yeah. She gets to do what she wants a little longer. Hmph. If that's how it has to be, we'll have to make do."

"How do you think we can let her go without them getting suspicious?"

"We'll have to make a diversion. Try over there," the boy gestures as the two break apart. He feels out the bottom of the building next to us while his sister starts poking the support beams of the balcony overhead. "It's strange though. He never takes the initiative unless it's for our safety."

"This is weakened here," Marc points out. Her spear dig into the dirt and presses against the wood earning a heavy creak.

"A collapse? That'll work. It could explain why she got away. And if we're blocked off by a long detour and injuries, that will keep us from helping them."

"Marc. Echo. How about some news here?" I demand.

The two pause and look at me.

"Oh, I like when she uses our names." I wonder if Marc is smiling. She sounds like it. Is her brother too? "I could get use to this new attitude, my Lady!"

"There are reinforcements coming this way. Not many but I can smell them. There's a few Risen intercepting them but it shouldn't take long to get here," the boy advises to me while nudging at his rider.

"You're joking," I gasp. He can smell them. Whoa. "How the heck did this happen?"

"Aw, how cute!" Marc coos. "I suppose with it being our lady and all, he would act on his own given how threatened she feels. He's so wonderful."

Is Marc squeeing?

"Anything for our master." It's the first time I hear them laugh together, a carefree sound between the two of them. They sound like the teenagers they are.

"You two? Hello?" I'm starting to feel like Kellam here.

"Right." Echo sobers up. "We can't expose our intentions just yet. If the others find out, we'll lose too many valuable assets. So we're going to have to separate."

"If we lose you somehow, we have an excuse not to be there to help apprehend you. We can go back to them and they won't be anymore suspicious than they already are. They don't think we're intelligent enough to betray them like this. A bad mistake on their part to underestimate us." Marc takes another stab at a pillar next to it. "This will do just nicely."

"We can pull it down and you can set off an explosion to make it seem like it was your doing," Echo finishes.

"So we separate. Then what?"

Marc presses the tip of her spear to the ground. I see her hand press against a particular spot on the shaft that's carved with runes. They glow under her touch. "Maybe...maybe you can go easy on Algidus. She's not...well...never mind. Do as you wish, Ma'am. More importantly, obliterate Pravitus just like you wanted. He's the dangerous one. We certainly won't miss him. He was the worst general and did nothing but suck up to you all day and all night. As if he'd ever replace your favorite."

"My favorite general?" All I get is a knowing laugh. I guess that means there are more of them. Who am I forgetting? I'm going to assume this is the male they're talking about luring reinforcements this way. He's become my favorite just because of that move, regardless of the past.

"I saw you pulling out a card. That means you have them with you, right? The old ones should help," Echo nods approvingly as he removes his tome.

I pull my own tome out and flick the edge of Marth's card. "You mean the Einherjar? How do you know about them?"

Marc giggles even harder and points at Echo. "He hid a couple of them from you. He liked the pictures even though you wanted them destroyed. What a nerd."

"S-shut up! Now I'm in deep trouble once our Lady remembers. She wanted them all burned and now she knows I willingly hid some," Echo argues back as he goes to take another peek on Pravitus and Algidus.

He looks around the corner and yelps quietly. "He's coming!"

That sets off a panic. My hand fumbles for the cover of my book. I pull the two Einherjar out and hold them against the bottom with my palm to keep my spell hand free. "You two need to go. Don't worry about me, I should be able to handle one guy with these two on my side."

Echo nods as he rushes past me toward his sister.

"So the excuse is we set her free for a potty break and she got an arm lose, right?" Marc says beside her brother as her magic spear hums to life.

"Sure. And it was my stupid nest mate's fault for distracting me and allowing the slip," he replies lightheartedly while repeating her actions with his own natural talent.

"Oi, you two play nice. Don't make me come over there and be a responsible adult," I chide weakly but in good humor. It's a pitiful attempt to try to end things kindly between the strange mess we've pushed ourselves into.

They pause to give me a final glance. There's a strange affection there that's different than earlier. It's curious. Intrigued. Yearning. Something's changed in them and they aren't quite sure what to make of it.

My spell flares to life, startling me. It crackles just in time.

"Woo! Sabotage!" Marc cackles excitedly as the twins' spells ensnare the building's structure. With a firm heave from both, there's a heavy crack of magic energy. Wood splinters and stone crumbles as the foundation of the side falls.

"Now!" one of them yells as they dash away from the crumbling mess.

I wind-up and launch the spell at the crates beneath the balcony. It'll cause an extra amount of damage to help mask their retreat. Realizing I'm dawdling, I curse out loud and whirl away with my arms holding my weapon close. I feel the heat of the spell ignite against the wood behind me as the whole alley turns yellow from the explosion of light. The force blows around me as I stumble into the road. A blast of dark smoke engulfs me and I bring a sleeve up to protect my nose and mouth as I turn away from it all.

I make it a few feet before Pravitus' incredulous voice bellows out.

"What is this?"

I lower my arm and find the man still a few feet ahead of me. He switches between me and the obliterated remains of the building beside me. His face upon realizing I'm alone is priceless.

"Surprise!" I taunt with a crooked grin.

"Where are they?" he snaps, tanned skin flushing in anger.

"You know," I say while wagging a finger, "you should never let your guard down around a prisoner even if they have to use the bathroom. Free one hand to wipe and suddenly flames are everywhere. Whoops! Such a shame!"

I can see Algidus rise part way from the fountain beyond us. Unlike this guy here, she seems upset. "Pravitus!" she calls out. "The children are-"

"Forget them! They aren't even worth the effort if they cannot handle one simple task!"

The hand holding the Einherjar slips from the tome as he starts to stalk toward me. All the pain and rage from earlier burns away into extreme satisfaction. My adrenaline begins to pump as the cocky assurance of my upper hand gives way. Unlike before, I have no reservations. This man deserves everything I am about to do to him. Irredeemable bastard!

I cluck my tongue and lift my hand dramatically. "You should watch where you step Pravitus. You've just unwittingly activated my trap cards."

He hesitates. His green eyes focus in on the two cards in my hand and I can see the exact second he realizes how screwed he's become.

"It's time to duel," I smugly declare.

I flick my wrist and the two cards go flying. There's a snap of energy pulled two ways from my body. It feels like one from each rib. It reaches into the invisible weave around us and Marth's familiar pull followed by another takes hold.

"Marth, Caeda! For Ylisse!"

For the fallen. For Durst.

As usual, the vibrant lights of the Einherjar swirl and take form. Marth's tall, dignified figure drops to the left. His hand is already to his sword as the white blends into color. He looks utterly badass standing there with his cape billowing around him.

"The fight continues anew?" Marth's voice calls out as he pokes at my brain for our current status.

"In more ways that you know," I utter sadly.

My attention shifts to the newcomer. I hear the pegasus cry before they even take shape. It's a majestic whine that carries through the night air. There's something comforting about hearing the cry of such an innocent creature.

The steed forms first in a shattering of light that flutters away like feathers. With wings out, the pegasus prances in place and shakes its head to let off another whinny. The pure white of its hide gives way to gold, red, and silver as the woman on the back of it finally finds life.

Caeda is beyond lovely. It isn't the same beauty I would describe to Emmeryn. The princess grew up in the tiny kingdom of Talys. Her upbringing required more self-sufficiency than the more populated, pampered palaces could afford to a princess. There's a sun-kissed tinge to her skin and her cheeks are red and robust from the wind she flies against. She's not so much petite and small as she is agile and toned. But there's no mistaking the royal air about her or the gentle wisdom in her eyes.

"I awaken once more? It has been so long," Caeda's soft voice drifts by in question. Her unawareness of the situation has caused her to peer about in confusion.

The prince startles at his beloved's voice. When he sees her there in all her glory, the surprise melts away into the tenderest expression of affection. "Caeda."

She immediately faces the sound of his voice and goes quiet with shock at the man beside her. Caeda leans just slightly forward and drinks in his image as if trying to dispel the illusion before her. "Marth?"

Their heartfelt reunion is cut short when reality comes crashing in to break the mood.

"Pravitus!" Algidus shouts in alarm. I can hear the ice crack beneath her feet as she twitches sporadically in alarm. "Those cards! We destroyed them."

"Not all apparently," he voices low and dark. "I know not how they came about but there is no time to question this. You know their danger. Focus, Algidus. Summon your creations to keep the illusions busy while I catch our rebellious master."

Caeda's mount shifts uneasily away from me. The blue-haired beauty looks confused herself at my appearance. She's exactly as Marth was the first time I summoned him in the library.

I greet my newest Einherjar with a hasty smile. "Sorry, princess. We'll talk later. We've got bad guys ahead that need a good ass-kicking. All on board?"

"You are...Robin?" she says hesitantly while peering me up and down. Also like the lord beside us, she's probably use to the old version of me. My bizarre change-up in attitude and fashion sense has probably thrown her off.

"Still Robin, just upgraded to 2.0. All good, less evil. Now let's shake things up with your sweetie here, 'kay?"

Her eyes connect briefly to her husband's and the single second shares a lifetime's worth of emotions only two soul mate's could posses. Marth bows slightly at the waist and lets a genuine smile of warmth and welcome grace his face. "Apologies for the abrupt return and lack of understanding Caeda, but our home is threatened once more. Will you do me the greatest of honors and accompany myself once more to protect our legacy?"

Marth and Caeda both approach each other and meet before me. The king brandishes the ancient ancestral sword with pride and dignity. His queen stops her pegasus just shy of him and stands in the rungs of her saddle. The majestic spear held in her dominant hand rises to an attack angle.

"I know little of the moment but I have always followed you to battle to protect both yourself and the future we held dear. I will continue to do so until our names are no more than whispers on the wind."

"Algidus!" The enemy up front orders with waning impatience. "Summon your horde. Now."

"But what of-"

"Capture her. There is nothing else we can do. I will deal with the others, eagerly."

The Risen's blue irises shut. There's a flush of power from her twisted body that shutters through the earth. It blows out like a shock wave. The woman lets her head tilt back and her jaw practically unhinges as a grotesque scream erupts from her throat. What starts out human warps and twists into a thrumming echo of something reptilian and ancient. The long keening cry rises into a shrill warning.

It's the same call from before the dragon cannon went off. She's the source!

The simultaneous poke of my memories comes from both directions as the former rulers of Akaneia play through current events.

"The Plegians siege Ylisstol? That has never occurred before," Caeda startles in her saddle.

"Later!" I holler as Pravitus pulls forth his sword and Ylissean shield. "Keeping it short and sweet people! Bad guys ahead and the one in back is commandeering a large number of Risen assaulting our flank. Take her out before the man and try not to let me get captured in the process."

Caeda's presence, a softer sort of tug that reminds me of a summer breeze presses forth my fear, the flicker of the kidnapping, and an afternoon a few days before of me in my room hypothesizing who and what these people are.

"Grimleal," she surmises sadly. "I see. They have grown bold in their movements."

"Caeda, you've got more maneuverability. Bypass the man here and take on the Risen in back. Marth and I will handle things here."

"Yes!" she nods in affirmation.

The flap of her pegasus' wings blocks out the quick words Marth offers her as she lifts off, but the mutual look of love between the two gives me a good idea. The sudden flux in power as they shift to battle mode is an immense punch to my chest. The magical tie between the two of them yanks at my insides like two fishing lines pulling at my guts. I let out an uncomfortable sound and wince.

"Do not exert yourself Robin. I will handle this," Marth announces as he moves to intercept the advancing enemy.

"I tire of Naga's lineage," Pravitus seethes with a steady voice. His path for me is obstructed by Falchion's incoming blow. He raises his shield and absorbs the hit. His emerald eyes seem to burn brighter in the dark as they glare menacingly over the ridge of his shield. "Am I cursed to never shake this troublesome bloodline?"

The enemy has dropped his Ylissean stance and fallen into something new. The control and flow are all wrong. It's a completely different discipline that's thrown his agile opponent off-kilter. Pravitus is larger and carries a bulkier build versus the young king's more slender form. He presses against Marth with a voracious aggression that uses his weight and strength against the other.

Marth is on the defensive. He's attempting to adapt to the new rhythm and has pulled back in order to do so. I'm no where near good enough to defeat Pravitus on my own but I can at least prove a distraction for the Einherjar to get a lucky break. I'll just have to work sparingly or the pressure in my chest will start to grow worse from their wear-and-tear. With two Einherjar now feeding off my energy, I'm going to stick to physical attacks and hope that allows me to last longer.

Unlike my ally, I have less martial talents. My specialties lie elsewhere. Frederick's worked on my ability for detail and applied it to my second strength, speed. I thought it a boring waste then but I've come to accept how valuable his supplementary lessons were. The knight gave me a thorough run of the existing armor types we work with. While I won't be smithing anything soon or, gods forbid, I even attempt sewing again, Frederick's push to have me help assemble and repair armor gave me valuable insight into their design. He essentially schooled me in their weakness and where I can sneak through defenses to take advantage of them. What I had to do is find a hole in their fighting pattern or make an opening. Then, I could sink my blade into the weak spot of their armor.

It isn't hard to come up with my first idea. The plate armor the lieutenants wear is much like the standard my own world once had. A large cuirass with added pauldrons, sturdy helmet, and protective armor up most of the limbs. The primary weak points to this come in the joints and interlocking clasps that hold it all together. The largest exposure in the armholes is mostly protected by a chainmail underlining. This means I have a small margin right under the armpits, a good area behind the knees and upper arms, and the neck. Not a lot but it's something.

The shield in Pravitus' right arm gives him a good degree of protection both on his front and back. If I'm going to attack him at all, it will be from behind on the left. If Marth can keep him busy, I can work my way around and assault him there.

Marth and Pravitus both exchange another blow with both pressing against each other. Their swords clash together and the traitor uses his angle to slip both sides downward. Their weapon tips hit the road with a gravelly scratch. Pravitus lifts his shield arm and thrusts a punch at the royal. Marth sidesteps but can't avoid the full orbit of the blow. He catches the force of it full in the chest and stumbles backward.

I feel a tight burn in the same area and I have to pause in my step as the air in me leaves. There's a brief sting of pain in my lungs as I inhale but it disappears with the exhale. A phantom echo of their own pain? Awesome.

Pravitus catches my movement from the corner of his eye and throws me a sore look. He shifts and proceeds to back away from both of his opponents to keep his protected front toward us.

"If only you knew what it was you were doing right now," he warns me in disappointment.

"If only you could just shut up and die," I taunt back angrily.

"Your time among the humans has changed you. You know no better." The man looks genuinely pained to see me talk like this. By this point, Marth has recovered and taken a spot next to me. The royal watches while waiting for my cue. This only seems to deepen Pravitus' anguish. "I will save you," he vows, "even if the efforts will take my life in the end."

Just my luck. After years I finally get some sort of semi-romantic declaration of devotion and it comes from a creepazoid like this. Come on! My luck seems to fluctuate from maxed out to zero on whim.

"After you, Marth," I reply simply, ignoring the comment from the man across from us.

"As you say," my companion responds. He raises Falchion to a guard and charges forward. I follow hot on his heels. Marth's gaze switches briefly beyond us to where Caeda is before he's on Pravitus with a powerful swing downward. I abort my own curiosity at her progress to focus on the action at hand. Falchion's blade slams into the shield and the metal vibrates loudly under the impact. The force causes Pravitus to buckle slightly under the pressure. The second of faltering is all I need to move.

I skirt around the left side and scan up and down his body quickly. He drives all his momentum through his arms. The legs move the least because he uses them to ground against all the exertion he presses through his upper body. It'll be best to take shots to his knees. That's a better strategy for a less skilled combatant like I.

I skid around on my heel and force myself to swing around. The grip on my sword tightens as I flick my wrist downward. I aim to bite as hard as I can through his muscle.

A small yell of exertion falls from me as I slam my weapon at him. I clench my teeth together in frustration when I see his footwork switch up. He's turns past me and I watch him fall away. It feels like slow motion as we cross each other.

Catching my balance, I refasten my grip and charge him forward with an obvious amateur blow. My main gain isn't to attack him but to keep his eyes off the recovering assailant behind him. I time my footsteps and try not to look too obvious as I rush him. I refuse to look away to reveal my intentions even when it's so hard to keep myself looking in his eyes.

He can see my move coming from a mile away and acts accordingly. Halfway down my blade catches against his. I steel my arm against his deflection and the two catch and hold, surprisingly. My strength is improving! My hands shake as I continue to press down against him and prevent him from throwing me back.

Pravitus looks impressed with my efforts. His eyebrow raises and his eyes open wider in his acknowledgment. He has the gall to let out a tiny chuckle.

"A lovely dance."

His smile slips away and he goes stern again. Pravitus' sword slides away and he brings his shield forward. I barely register he's about to ram me with it when the pain knocks my sense everywhere. He rushes forward and digs the bottom edge of it into my lower stomach. I double over in pain and slump right against the board. I feel it lift up and I'm flying backward.

"Ngh!"

I hit the ground in a heap. I faintly hear the metallic clatter of my sword spinning out of my opened palm. There's a hint of satisfaction when I hear Pravitus grunt in pain. Marth calls my name but he's abruptly cut off by the sound of weapons colliding once more.

I want to curl up and hold tight to my stomach until the pain stops but I don't have that option. My sight is still white and speckled when I roll on my back and force myself to sit up. My one arm holds tight to me while the other presses to the ground. I blindly stagger up, swaying to and fro.

My foot brushes against something and I'm hoping it's my sword. My vision swims as I look down to see the glint of something beneath me. I bend over carefully and wave back and forth with my free hand trying to catch hold of the dancing blur.

I touch ice.

I pull my fingers back in surprise and confusion. Huh? I hesitantly reach out and try again. Still cold to touch. Beyond freezing.

I rub my eyes and focus harder. That IS ice! It's a whole freaking icicle. The end is pointed dangerously and lodged in the dirt. Did this come from the fountain? Hoping to confirm my suspicions, I look back.

The thing's turned into a bloody ice fortress. I'm talking tall icy spires that rise up to where the frost meets the very edge of the basin. It's intimidating against the dark backdrop. Inside, I see the shadowy silhouette of Algidus safely within.

"Stellar," I rasp out after a dry cough. You were suppose to be the easy target!

Caeda flies above in a circle. I see her pull up into a loop and then her steed drops. It tucks its wings in and becomes a white streak as it dives to the ground. It exits free fall a short distance from the earth and throws both wings out to glide at a horizontal angle with one powerful thrust of its wings. It pulls in the wings again and soars past the dome. I see her rider throw out her spear and the crack of ice is heard. A chunk right over Algidus' head rips off and tumbles away.

In response, the whole structure creaks and groans. Spikes form over the smooth parts of the surface and grow over the chip Caeda has made. Others grow longer still. Without warning, several shoot off and jettison away in every direction. Caeda pulls on the reins of her pegasus and guides her up just as one shoots by. A stray projectile whizzes past me and shatters on the cobblestone a few feet away.

Uh, I don't remember reading about this type of magic anywhere. I don't recall anyone being able to use a school that's based off water. How is she doing this?

Holy crap! I want to do that! No fair!

My sudden alarm has echoed to Marth. Or maybe his own intuition is locked with Caeda's and he's felt her own distress. Either way, the Altean prince has managed to put himself between Pravitus and I. I see his back but his voice is clearly aimed at me. "Help Caeda. I will hold him here."

As much as I'd like to feel reassured by that statement, I can't. Marth's already got a torn sleeve and a nick on his face. The little distraction I offered Marth allowed him to create a large dent across the other man's chest. It's probably bruised and winded the enemy, but Pravitus hasn't slowed down at all.

"You are no match here. Divert your talents to more promising outcomes, Robin."

I've overestimated the situation. I thought this would be a lot easier. I should have known that these two wouldn't be what they seemed. But how was I suppose to know the undead siren over there packed a magical punch? I personally wanted to pound in Pravitus' face. If he overcomes Marth, I'm toast. But at least they're still on par for now. I'll only make a minor distraction at best. Not enough to do damage fast enough. Caeda, however, is completely at the disadvantage here. There's no way she can handle Algidus alone.

So, some plans fail. Being a tactician, I just have to go with it and form a new one. Okay, reverse order. Instead of I being the distraction, I'll take on the frozen ice queen over there. If Caeda can keep up her acrobatics a little longer, maybe I can figure something out.

"Marth," I ask with a heavy sense of finality. "End him."

Another set of images. The quick view of Emmeryn's tears as she's led away. The cathedral and all those civilians dying. My own anguish upon Durst's demise. Marth's gauging the reason for my blood lust and the justification of ending this man's life without trial or chance.

"I understand," he nods stoically. "No more innocents shall fall by this man's hand."

"An amusing declaration from the shadow of the dead. However, your novelty is wearing off," Pravitus declares as he rushes back into battle again.

Leaving the duo behind, I duck away in the opposite direction and snatch up my sword in the process. I have no desire to use magic but that might be the outcome for this new direction. The weight of my tomes remind me of the most obvious options I have. It might take a few wind blasts if the ice shield is that thick and I can't afford to waste time on that. Fire on ice is a super effective combo if my pocket monster battling days have taught me right. I think that would be the more superior option of the two. If I can burn a hole in there, a strategically placed smoke bomb could easily flush her out.

Alright, just got to-

The shadow streaking toward be causes me to throw myself to the side. I make grabby hands for a stall counter to catch me as I hear an inhuman grunt scuffle behind me.

Aw, mozzarella balls! A Risen hobbles to a stand and rounds to me. Like the woman before, this young lady is a gross misrepresentation of her earlier self. She looks just as drowned and bloated as the others. The remains of her guard uniform hangs with holes where the fish have gone through and feasted on her. Her loose hair is woven with lake flora and hangs around her face in a way that gives me horrific flashbacks to wells and memetic video cassettes. Unplugged my television every night for a month after that stupid movie.

The ragged undead lurches out at me with blackened fingers wiggling in want. Though a lame ankle drags behind her, she moves with more precision than normal. It's then that I notice the brighter sheen of her eyes. That's not the typical savagery in them. It's focused and intent. I get it now. Algidus doesn't just control a hoard. She can actually influence their actions directly.

I jump back from a clawing aimed straight for my legs. It's far easier this time around compared to last time. Though they look the same, this Risen is far slower. I note that the skin on it hangs and the movements are stiff. It's almost like it's falling apart.

The damage to its leg is hampering the mobility further. It goes flying past me in a messy lunge and I follow around it. I take the heel of my boot straight to the mangled remains of its ankle. The limb bends inward and causes the Risen to drop forward to one knee with the loss of support. It basically crumples.

I level my sword and take a good chop right to its neck. Instead of dodging, it raises its arm and takes the full brunt of my blow. The creature does not even flinch as the blade sinks part way through the forearm. I pull back, the sound of metal against bone grating in my ears.

"You...are..." it hisses in a gravelly voice.

I hesitate. This one speaks? Or is it a projection of its mistress?

"Why...deny...the...tru...th..?"

"Stuff it," I declare coldly.

The light in its eyes dies as I slam through the back of its neck. The Risen's feral behavior rears up with one final scream of defiance before the mortal blow causes it to collapse into smoke.

"You are...so...far gone." A new male voice declares behind me. I quickly face the new opponent. This Risen was once a merchant. His fine, silk clothing is now unraveling and wrapped too tight around the bulging, vein-ridden potbelly poking out. Half of his mustache has torn away and the rings on his fingers are disappearing under the puffy purple-black of his claws.

"Algidus!" Pravitus' voice roars from beyond us. "Faster!"

The Risen stiffens momentarily as the muffled clarity of her original voice rings out.

"I cannot. The humans work against me. There is a group close. And the future children are pressing upon Pruina. I must protect her!"

"Her duty is done and the sacrifice was made. There is nothing left there to protect!"

"Never! I will not abandon her!" Algidus screams into an antagonized roar.

Her partner starts to argue with her but his rebuttal ends in a frustrated exclamation as his battle resumes.

"Pruina?" I repeat in confusion.

The Risen before me jerks to life again. It regards me with an ever blank expression. "Yes...another...servant. Precious... protect her. But you...cannot...memory... How is...this...possible?"

"You tell me," I challenge. I rearrange my grip and set back into my stance. "You all seem to have the answers. So spit it out. Why me? Why am I your Grima?"

"Because..." it reasons. "Yo...u...are."

"Wrong answer!" I declare angrily. I take two steps forward and follow with another upper cut. The portly body does better than the last. It moves sideways and catches around my wrist as I thrust up. Frederick's expert teachings come in and I twist around on my heel. I duck my head under the Risen's arm and throw myself back allowing my hand to just slip from the tightening grasp. I backpedal enough to put more space between us and regain my bearings.

I take a small peek to Caeda and see she's making slightly more progress. Algidus' attention is now divided between us both and her relentless assault on the pegasus rider has slowed considerably.

"The truth...is...there..." The lack of emotion as it speaks in her words is frightening. It raises a single pointed digit toward my hand. "The sign...no mistake..."

I can't help the glance to my covered brand. A sickening cocktail of rage and disgust pounds in my temple and boils my blood.

"It was never there before! Not until I came here!" I holler angrily. "Is it because I'm simply another form of Robin? Is that it? You found a compatible replacement in some other world and worked your dark voodoo to make me like the last vessel?"

My palms start to burn with how tightly I'm clenching my hilt. A wild war cry rips out of me. "Tell me, damn it!"

The Risen twitches, the head shivering back and forth as it tries to speak. The words garble as it tries to speak too much for its limited ability. "No...The possession...You don't...There was...must have...Failure to...acclimate mentally...You..."

Possession? Of what? And what failure? I don't understand. I don't-

I notice the Risen's eyes are no longer on me. They're over my shoulder. The stare is too intent. Is there-? The hair on the back of my neck stands. I grow tense and feel the urge to run. It's the intuition I never ignore.

I grunt in pain as I leap away as something clips my shoulder. I'm thrown toward the Risen and end up on my back. I raise my head and see another one recovering from the failed assault on me. Looking back up, I see my original target gearing up for another strike. Again, it aims for my legs.

They're not going to kill me. Simply disable.

I raise my sword with one hand and catch the claw mid-air. The gnarled black fingers curl one by one around the blade never caring that the edges bite into the sides of its palm. It lifts the weapon with a great feat of strength and I nearly lose my grasp on it.

My whole torso bounces with each shake it gives in an attempt to disarm me. My legs slip against the stone as I lift myself up to disengage. Beside me, the newest Risen, a fresh looking deceased fishwife, gets on fours and lets out an unintelligible moan. This one looks like your run-of-the-mill Risen. She must have simply been attracted by Algidus' call for help.

"Piss! Balls! Fuck!" I shriek as I wrench myself from the monster's grasp. I fall away just as the feral one springs toward us. The outstretched claws miss and sink into the merchant beside me. I scuttle away as it crashes to the ground with the other disappearing into smoke on impact.

This is the type of Risen I remember. The Black-fingered Bart as I christened it. Fast. Angry. Deadly. Aaaaand there's another crawling through the hedges just beyond us, its beady reds locked on me.

I mentally project a waving flag in my brain to my Einherjar and add the extra benefit of a majestic scream for additional help. "Caeda! Marth! A moment of your time please!"

I'm on my feet in seconds. Stuck between two advancing Risen, I tense myself for anything. All of Frederick's training ticks slide by slide through my brain for relevant information to survive this predicament. Footwork. Momentum. Predication of the angle of impact. Does this work on mindless zombies?

The two move in synchronization. I can't even get a good look at the second as it moves to me. The other joins it with inhuman speed. They criss-cross between each other and come in from both sides. I could avoid the first but the second only has to watch what direction I dodge and follow through. Crud! Think and react! Just move!

The fishwife is the first to pounce. Still crawling like an animal, she springs at me from the left. She leaps wide and it's not hard to avoid her. My head is already turned to the other and my newly acquired warrior instinct kicks in to handle the next.

The enemy flings itself at me and I shuffle back. The anticipation of impact causes my pulse to surge. Time to prove I've learned something. I continue stepping back, the dark of its shadow engulfing me as I prepare for the weight of its body. I catch the outstretched claw with the edge of my sword and tuck in my head. I lift my free hand and curl up as we fall back. I wedge my foot up and under its chest. Despite the crisp shock of pain in my spine, I force myself to roll back. With a powerful thrust of my heel, I flip the monster off me and send it sprawling away.

Biscuits and gravy. That worked!

There's little time to revel in the moment. I'm on my feet and assessing the two. The flipped Risen is still struggling to recover so I aim to make quick work of it. I hop over its arm and swirl my sword downward. I get a deep wedge into its neck but need the rest of my weight to push through the rest of the sinew. Risen or not, I'll never get comfortable decapitating these things. Nor will I get over the sensation of beheading it.

A cloud of purple haze blasts over me as something slams into the ground behind me. Caeda soars overhead with a rush that sends my hair flying. Her spear is gouged into the grout where the other Risen once stood. The royal rider circles around and pulls up to hover just beside me. She speaks loudly over the flapping of her pegasus' wings.

"I have seen more Risen. Several are coming from the south," she informs me as she pulls the weapon back into her hand.

"No luck breaking the dome?"

"No," she responds grimly. "Whatever magic is at use here is too strong for metal alone. My lance will never puncture it in the time we have."

"I'll have to blast it then," I sigh. "The icicle palace around the fountain has to go."

There's a stab of pain in my cheek and I grasp at it in instinct. I find no blood nor feel a scratch.

"Marth!" Caeda quietly exclaims, her face sullied with worry.

Beyond us the king of old continues dueling his foe. While both sport cuts and hold the even pace of veteran warriors, the greater accumulation of wounds on Marth proves who is acquiring the upper hand.

"We have never encountered such creatures before," she muses.

"Hopefully we won't again if we can shut down this Algidus once and for all. I know I've pulled you completely out of no where with little to go on but I need you to help me a tad longer," I plead.

Caeda is only full of understanding. "There are many questions here I wonder about but I can withhold them. You are my summoner and I am bound to your will regardless."

"Sorry," I can't help but apologize even if it means nothing. "Let's finish our objective and then you can get back to your husband."

"We understand the tides of battle and if separation must happen, then so be it." She pauses. "But if I am able to return sooner to his side, I would welcome the relief."

Before I can think about our next move, a foreign sound roars around us. It's definitely draconic and I fear it's Algidus again. Listening closer, I realize the call is more familiar.

"Nah?"

It's coming from the front lines. Algidus mentioned the future children so I'm assuming she meant them. If Nah's assumed her dragon form, that means she's definitely fighting. The royals never denied the involvement of a manakete in the last battle but they kept Nah's identity secret for her protection. She was to be used as a last resort in Emmeryn's book. Confirming to be part divine dragon herself, the tribe is especially sacred to Ylisse. Trying to endanger the first manakete outside of Tiki seen in decades was not something they wanted to shout to the world. Nah is formidable even as young as she is. Lucina must be hard-pressed to have let her loose. I also have to wonder if they've left Emmeryn's side to help. I don't doubt they've left the Exalt unattended but the kids won't sit back and twiddle their thumbs if they think they can do something. I didn't even think about it until now but Laurent's probably already out in the streets helping with the battle. He could easily masquerade as a college mage and then disappear again when the battle ended. Lucina has probably pulled together with him and the quartet is doing their own work. Are they leading a skirmish against the cannon? I wish them the best of luck. Though I think I'll need most of it.

I've already put my sword away and have my tome out. Caeda's giving me a concerned look but I can only shrug. I may very well lose one, if not both, Einherjar if I have to use too much energy. I don't have any other options though.

"Caeda, keep the attention off me. Once I blow a hole in that thing you need to get in there and finish her off. I'm sure you remember how to kill a Risen. They need an absolute mortal blow to finish them."

"I remember. They have not changed from cycles past. At least, not until this one."

"Yeah, that goes without saying."

Caeda nudges her pegasus with a tap of her stirrups. "You must hasten your efforts. The Risen she has called on for reinforcements must be close now."

"Don't I know it!" I nod back. I switch my sights between page flipping and Algidus' fortress. I am going to the very back of this book. I need the heaviest spell my beginner tome has. It's the toughest offensive spell I have access to. It's also the first spell I'll have to master before advancing to elfire. I won't pull this off effortlessly but I really don't need to. The fountain is broad and even with my aim off the sheer force behind it should do it.

Algidus' distorted shadow moves with Caeda's renewed barrage. The rider dips in and makes for the pock marked ceiling she's been scraping at. Ice creaks into sharp arrows and a new defense system ignites. My heart nearly stops when a big one just misses the pegasus' flank by a scant fraction of an angle.

Breaking out of my stupor, I duck behind some stands and sneak in closer. My pace is hasty and my stealth sloppy. I might have a few minutes before those Risen arrive. Maybe only seconds. I have to shake this shield in one blow.

I pop my head up beyond some barrels. I'm a perfect distance away from her. I can see her back to me through the blueish white glass. At least I'll have a head start before she probably attempts to jar me from my casting. I know by now she wouldn't dare attempt to kill me. But an icicle to the shin or bicep can still ruin my day.

The spell page is intimidating. This is the essay question from hell I always dreaded on my test. It's either an utter pass or utter failure. No in between.

I take a deep breath and find my center. The first symbol that pops up under my finger is extra searing to my skin. The pull against my ribs stretches a tad tighter. With each rune comes more stress. Then more. The binds between Marth, Caeda, and I starts to stretch and clench my insides harder and heavier.

My breathing shallows but I push it from my mind. My focus is absolute. The fire that is beginning to scald my veins is nothing more. My spellcasting remains strong. Even as the spinning sphere in my palm starts to wobble and warp off its axis, I continue to feed the flame's never ending thirst with the essence of my own self.

Time is wasting away. I'm under a severe threat but I have to have faith in my control. It's time to rely on Miriel, my second teacher. Mold. Shape. Form. Bind and tie the patterns and rhythms of the magic weave. Words and pictures form the bridge so I can create the miniature universe in my palm. A howling, shimmering display of flaming death.

There's a sharp stabbing pain in my left lung. It feels like my grip on Marth is slipping. It's on the very last threads. His power is waning and with it his own strength. There's a paper thin slash across my elbow and then another against my palm. Hold on, just a little longer...

Almost...This heat is starting to burn my cheeks...

I hear the groans of Risen behind me. They're almost here. This...this will have to do...I can't...

I let out a soundless cry as I slink to the ground. The fireball launches from my palm. It spins rapidly and stretches. The path begins to curve and I start to black out just as it zooms in. Marth starts to go and I use the last of my strength to hold on. It's like a metaphorical pinky finger just snatches the last bit of twine connecting us. Caeda's bond also begins to slip and I feel something in it give way. Not the whole connection, only a portion of it. It feels lighter than before but the strain is still agonizing. Just before my vision winks out, a single Risen looms beside me frozen in its tracks. I wonder if Algidus is behind this one.

I barely whisper. "Gotcha."

My whole conscious fades away but not completely. It's like I've shut down momentarily. Beyond the fuzzy clouds I hear the product of my destruction. The heat of the spell's eruption is almost like a warm wind on the beach to me. The piercing shriek is simply the sound sea gulls. The rush of blood in my ears is the surf against the shore.

It's strange but I have a sudden longing to be back by the ocean. The lifetime I remember has always been near the beach. The crash of waves has always been in arm's reach. Every Saturday my mother and I would walk the stony shores and splash through the surf. I'd always lag behind looking for shells. She's often have to stop far ahead of me and wait to catch up. I can almost hear her calling me.

"Robin."

Wait. Is my mother calling me? That was my name. Is it her? The voice sounds so much lighter than hers.

"Wake up."

No, that isn't my mother. The voice sounds like me. I'm calling me? What? No. That doesn't make sense. Hold up. Something echoes behind it. It's masculine. Familiar? It's odd. A faint call speaking the same words in my brain just beyond the mirage of my own tone.

"Robin!"

Who is this? I'm not remembering nor am I dreaming.

"Robin, you have to open your eyes now."

"Wake up!"

My breath hitches and liquid fire burns down my throat. Static shock rips through my muscles and sparks the waning energy in my chest. The overwhelming sensation of the discharge proves too much and I jerk up in response. I'm vaguely aware of my heavy coughing. A twitchy hand covers my mouth as I hack up a lungful of something wet. At first I'm scared its blood but through my patchy eyesight I see nothing but clear fluid on my hand.

The stirring warmth running down my esophagus works a lot like whiskey. A hot, burning shot that's blowing my senses wide open. There's a magical tingle to it that's slowly reinvigorating my previously blown nerves.

I give another pneumatic worthy hack, suddenly aware someone is bending over me. I sluggishly raise my eyes and the new volt of emotion is from fear. I'm looking into the ruby reds of a Risen. My brain tries to form some word out of three different ones and I end up with gibberish. At first I'm scared I've still fallen into Algidus' grasp but that realization becomes something different wholly.

It's a strange picture. I'm sitting up leaning back on a single arm, the other raised and ready to push away my enemy. Crouched over me is a male Risen. It's, his, dark armor is fearsome and fitted to his body hiding all but the tiniest specks of purple cloth between the creases in the armor. The cape around his shoulders flutters once on the breeze and I see Grima's eyes embroidered into the back of it. He carries both spear and sword. The helmet over his face hides everything save for the two clear spots that currently have me lost in their depths.

I know this Risen. He saved me before. He saved Marc.

There's also an empty restorative potion in his gauntlet.

"You...?" I finally manage out. It's a question and a statement all at once.

The rasp of his own breath is all that answers me as he continues to stare. His head tilts just slightly to the side. The fiery coals under his visor drop down my body before returning to my face. I don't sense anything malicious.

This armored individual is a Risen. Yet, he's intervened on both Marc's and my life now. What sort of game is he playing? Is he with her? Does that make him the mysterious fellow the twins' kept mentioning?

There's a faint pressure in the middle of my head. It's a feeling of vague familiarity. The more I stare at this being, the stronger it gets. An indomitable sense of urgency hits me. I should get up. I should move.

Funny, they don't feel like my own urges.

I...I feel trippy right now. Is this a side-effect of the potion? Or is because of the Risen here? My brain in bowling over in a mental overload.

There's a low, menacing hiss beside me. I pull away from the hypnotizing stare and nearly leap up in horror. There's even more Risen crawling into the square. Algidus' reinforcements are coming in too strong. If this keeps up I'll get overwhelmed! Shit! Speaking of, what happened?

I twist around onto my side and search the fountain. The crystalline structure has been melted through. Part of the lip has charred and fallen inward on impact allowing water to pour out in a growing pool beneath it. The actual ice has either disintegrated or shattered into glittering shards around the square. The hole in the side of it is huge. I'm amazed I managed to do that much damage. The spell veered off and went wide blowing up an opening through the top. Enough for two humans to climb through. Inside I can see the chaotic display of two shadows warping against the remaining walls. Caeda's inside! Where's her pegasus though?

The inhuman moans of the Risen pull my attention away again. Right, my problem. The decaying corpses are hunched only a few feet behind the warrior before me. I jabber incoherently and point behind us while struggling to my feet. There's a brighter flash of red as he whips his head around.

He moves with the practiced ease of a veteran fighter. His wrist flicks against the ground shattering the bottom half off the bottle in his hand. He moves with extreme agility, turning to a stand in one swift movement. The first Risen attempts to jump us from the front. The second comes up his side with an ax raised. My mysterious ally effortlessly catches the first with his hand by the neck and slides backward to avoid the downward cut of the second. He flips the bottle in his hand and uses the serrated edges of it to jam through the back of the Risen's unprotected skull. It embeds deep into the bone and kills it. The one still struggling in his grip stops twitching when his fist flexes, crushing the front wind pipe. The flailing corpse is brutally thrown into the incoming third causing the two to crash together in a tumble of limbs. I can't help but note the jagged, messy movements they exhibit. These Risen are a third type of different. Unorganized killing machines with no intelligent line of thought. Does that mean these are the Risen Algidus has lost control of. Or can I dare hope for Caeda's success beyond us in the loss of her control over all her minions.

The Risen warrior wastes no time pulling the spear from his back to finish off the downed foes. There's little mercy in his actions. The point finds each of their vital points and they blow away to dust. Just like that, he's wasted three fellow undead. It's bizarre because his stature is nothing spectacular. He looks the same size and build of a normal adult male but he moves and fights with inhuman strength.

Icicles shatter about spectacularly from the corner of my eye. Drawn to the new spectacle, I find the commotion is from the fountain. A quickly degrading male Risen leaps from the broken wreckage. Its bones crack and clack together as it scuttles like a crab away from the battle. My Einherjar hops gracefully from the insides, spear in hand. She lines up her aim. Pulling her arm back, the spear flies forward like a arrow. Unfortunately it lacks the aerodynamics of a javelin. It falls just short of the retreating corpse. I'm puzzled as to why she's attacking this specific enemy until I see the bright blue of its eyes just as it frantically disappears through a hedge. What's the deal there?

I weakly call her name as I turn back to my new ally. To my shock, there's no one there! Not a single trace of him. I'm alone.

"I'm going nuts."

It's a mild struggle to get to my feet. Despite the restorative work done on me, I still feel like I'm running at seventy percent. The world wobbles like a ship on water while I make my way to the old queen.

"Caeda!" I call out again, fanning my hand in attention at her.

She's already recovered her weapon and rushes to my side. The woman sports plenty of superficial cuts from her prior battle but looks no less worse than that. Her grasp on my elbow is surprisingly gentle as she steadies me.

"You are struggling," she comments in concern. "Our bond nearly broke."

"I noticed," I grimace. "I could've lost you both."

"I sacrificed my steed's energy to alleviate the burden of our connection. Hopefully it shall offer you some respite. I must say, I haven't seen you so overwhelmed since our first battles together."

I want to scream that it's because she's dealing with a whole new master but we don't really have time to get that deep. "Yeah, well, forget it. I'll live. Just tell me what's happening. Why aren't you attacking Algidus anymore?"

"I offer both good and bad tidings. Your spell did wonders. It created a wide enough entrance atop the ice that I was able to slip through. The Risen put up a fight but I was interrupted by others. Though the wounds I inflicted on her seemed to assure her demise, it turns out to be a falsehood. I felt a strange rush of energy and before I knew it, one of the fellow creatures had assumed her visage momentarily. It morphed back to its prior image and then made a hasty retreat."

"You're saying her soul hijacked another Risen?"

"Yes, her previous corpse no more than dust when it fell to the ground."

"So that was her that I saw escape through the hedge? Gods damn it!" I curse wearily.

"I apologize. The failure is mine."

"No, you couldn't have known all her tricks. She's got an ability to somehow connect with her drones. Her real body probably was too damaged to retreat and she swapped with another. The one she took looked bad. She won't be causing any problems I think for this battle anymore based on what I saw. The one arm was practically hanging off the shoulder."

If Algidus has lost power, that means she's no longer in control of her hoard. The up side is they won't be strategically on my ass anymore. The down side is that's she's no longer guiding their actions and they'll potentially interfere. She can't keep them hidden anymore though. Normal Risen attack stupidly and with little regard for choice of victim. While they'll continue to be a minor threat for the Ylisseans, they'll also attack the Plegians. They should also be easier to eliminate without her added intelligence enhancing their abilities in stealth and practiced attacks. Some of them may even just wander away all together. It's a mixed bag but I've turned down her threat almost entirely and got me a step closer to safety.

Objective one: Eliminated.

Objective two: In-progress.

I look around again for the Risen who aided me before. He continues to remain missing. It's like he was never here to begin with. The only proof of his existence is the shattered remains of the bottle nearby. Still can't believe he jammed it so far up that one schmuck's cranium. Gods, I have so many questions and no time to ponder on them. Eliminating my second threat is a higher priority here.

"Caeda! Behind you!"

Her spear kicks up and she rests it in both hands before she's even fully around. The horizontal bar rises up and meets Pravitus' incoming blow. His confident sneer falls away in disappointment. To retaliate, he brings up his foot and kicks the rider right beneath her chest plate into the middle of her stomach.

She flinches back with an delicate cry. To distract him, I lift my tome over my head and hurl it at him with both arms. It's a diversion mostly as I can see an exceptionally angry Marth bum-rushing the jerk from behind.

My book bounces off his raised shield and he offers an unimpressed look. It quickly falls away at the pounding of footsteps coming his way. Marth elicits a grunt as he lets loose a powerful two-handed attack. Pravitus barely escapes as Falchion rips what's left of his cape in two.

"You both fare well," the swordsman pants as he takes a protective stance before us. His lover recovers fully and joins his side. There's a strange reverberation between the two as they stand so close together. It's an invisible pulse that seems to strengthen their own power. I can feel the surge all the way through. Can they, in a sense, 'pair up' like the Shepherds can? Can their strong relationship reflect back between the two of them and benefit each other?

"Great job Marth. Thank you." It's the only sentiment I can offer him, heartfelt as it is. His tireless efforts allowed us to do what we needed.

"I should have expected no less from you," Pravitus compliments to me with a hint of pride, ignoring the others. "You of all beings should provide proper resistance, even as you are. Truly, you are a sight to behold."

"And you're a sight I'd like gone forever," I counter back in disgust. His adoration is beyond irritating. "Three on one now that your little friends are gone. Two knocked out, maybe dead. Another gone running like a coward. All that's left is you."

"Ah, if only you still remembered. There is not much to expect from two tainted monstrosities and a broken shell. Their weakness stems from their rot and deformities," Pravitus responds with boredom. There's no regard at all for his fellow Grimleal. In fact, he ends up smirking at me! "Only I retain the majesty and beauty of our kin. Only I am perfection. A gift you shared only to me."

I give him the most unimpressed pout I can muster. "You are a pain in the butt. I hope you suffocate on your own appalling sense of bloated self-worth."

"Mm, your tongue still speaks the same sweet acidity as before."

"So you say. You and your friends put a lot of stock into who you believe me to be. What is it that makes you think that? Convince me I'm this all powerful being you claim me to be."

The Einherjar look visibly uncomfortable by the change the conversation has taken. Caeda more than Marth. At least her partner is somewhat aware of the circumstances thanks to Lucina's intervention. He makes a subtle touch of reassurance to calm her.

"Convince you? All you must do is look inside yourself. Don't you feel your power, dormant and struggling to break free?" he coerces. "Or is it that the human soul that dwells alongside has usurped power again?"

"Dude, you are utterly whack!" I exclaim loudly. "No! There are no extra souls or spirits or whatever stuck in here. There is only me. The same human being I have always been. I was born that way, grew up that way, and lived that way. No magic. No dragons. No fell blood. I had a very human mother. I lived in a very human hometown. And I have lived a very human life. Hu-man. Understand?"

I thrust my hand forward and wave it wildly. "This is your fault. This is something that isn't me. Whatever you did, you undo it. Now!"

Pravitus acknowledges me with renewed interest. The arrogance slips and he chews on my words thoughtfully. "You...grew? Lived? I wonder. Could it be the damage is far less recent than before. Perhaps Algidus' own thoughts were right."

I'm sick of his vague riddles. "Answer me!" I demand hotly.

His lips curl in amusement and the spark of lust appears in his eyes again. "Ah, there it is. Another small crack into your soul that reminds me just what I wait for. This has been a tiring night. I desire an absolution and am finished with these questions. It is time to end this so the moment of your revival becomes the reality I have dreamed so long of."

Welp, there goes anymore attempts to pry answers from him.

Pravitus raises his sword and shield causing the Einherjar to react accordingly. They stand firmly in his path with weapons on the ready. Marth's already fairly battered but he'll continue strong as long as I hold out. Caeda is at a slight handicap given her lack of talent compared to the other two. It's not that she's less skilled but simply that her talents were trained for flexible maneuvering on air. While Sumia has told me that pegasus knights receive general spear training, they have a specialized aerial concentration they focus on most. I fear Caeda being grounded will cause her to suffer slightly from that.

I quickly take advantage of the moment to leap for my tome. Pravitus is already running at them as I bend over to scoop it up. However, the impending attack from either side never happens. We're all frozen in place at the sudden call behind us.

"Lieutenant! I'd like to have a word about your given orders!"

A voice sharp and clear interrupts us. There's no mistaking the deadly sense of warning behind it. That is a declaration of accusation.

There is a single second of silence before all four of us look to the far exit beyond us. Pravitus whirls around and lets out a tired sigh.

I want to screech ecstatically seeing the familiar Ylissean uniforms assembled beyond us. Reinforcements. These must be the ones the twins and Algidus mentioned! It has to be. I can't imagine there being a large enough group of city guard assembling together after the first rush against them at the cathedral.

This is from our our army. It's small, only ten all together. Most are foot soldiers but there's also two archers hanging in the back. The young city guard I fought alongside with earlier stands at the forefront pointing vigorously at me. He continues his blathering to the leading officer who quiets him with a raised hand. My heart stops when I see who it is.

Pravitus goes stark white. The words that fall from his lips drip with utter loathing as he processes the group beyond us. In particular is the single officer leading them all, the object of his newly conveyed hatred and my gratitude.

"You," he exclaims quietly. "Son of Naga."

The captain of the Shepherds stands tall and formidable against the small assembly. Since I last saw him, the endless bouts of battle have clearly affected him. Chrom's armor is dented in more places than one and what's left of his cape hangs shredded and misshapen at his lower back. His hair is matted and there's no end to the dirt spotting every inch of exposed skin.

The most startling feature, though, is how fricking pissed he is. The look of unbridled rage on his face is beyond anything I've seen from him. Worse than Regna Ferox and even more beyond his confrontation against Gangrel. It's actually frightening. He moves just beyond the guard beside him and takes in the scene all around him. The shattered fountain. Scorch marks. The remnants of the two butchered Ylisseans. His gaze lingers extra long on me. He remains passive but the moment causes my gut to curl up uncomfortably in a foreign emotion I can't describe.

There's only the barest hint of surprise aimed at the comrade they once knew. It's a combination of unease and confusion that ripples through the crowd seeing the man wearing the armor of their officer but the face of another.

If this was anything short of a movie, I would peg this the part where the magnificent hero rescues the damsel in distress. Both he and the villain have some long, drawn-out banter with some witty one-liners thrown in and a whole lot of smack thrown about that offends my honor and stirs the hero's sense of chivalry. They'll draw their weapons and engage in an epic duel for the ages. One driven by the protective instincts of knightly training. The other by the foul, dastardly temptations of villainy. So cliché.

Luckily, I am no damsel in distress. I can save my own damn self.

I'm not about to let the opportunity of Pravitus' momentarily lost attention go to waste. I quietly tip open the tome to the first page, my fingers pressed to the ground while I sit on my heels. The muscles in my thighs tighten in anticipation. I support myself with one hand while the pointer of my right hand stretches out and traces lines in the air. This isn't even a spell. It's an exercise.

Fire magic begins to build up into a flame like any light spell. But with my control, I'm able to drag the rising flame down. The fire flattens to a fine carpet just above the surface of my palm. It burns like an electric stove top. I can feel the warmth in my veins collecting atop my skin as I heat the small space with precision. The usage is minimal and only offers a slight tickle of discomfort in my chest.

It's hard to concentrate on both that and my attempt to signal the two royals before me. Marth offers the tiniest nod and stays still otherwise to refrain from alerting Pravitus. He's saying something sassy after interrupting Chrom's ultimatum but I ignore it. My bones threaten to creak during my slow ascent and I'm afraid they may give me away. Higher and higher I rise until I'm about halfway. I edge forward and prepare to spring.

I jump onto his back, wrapping a leg around his waist to anchor myself. My right hand comes up and slaps right onto his cheek. I swear I see the brand on the back flare through the glove as the warmth in my hand lights up with all the energy I pour into it.

"Any time guys!" I yell over my shoulder to the other two.

The foul, smokey scent of flesh burning fills my nose as I hear Pravitus' face begin to sizzle under my magic. He lets out an unholy scream and bucks around like a bronco from the pain. I hear my name over the rush around me and the sound of weapons drawing.

Pravitus' hand catches the back of my coat and he pulls me off with ease. He pushes me roughly away but not so hard to injure anything. I land on my back and lose the spell on impact. Caeda and Marth are two blurs before me as they both attempt to impale the man from opposite angles. Falchion is blocked by his shield but Caeda successfully drives her thin blade around the tasset and into his thigh.

The man doesn't even flinch. He drops his sword and pulls the polearm out with his freed fist, ignoring the blood starting to dribble from his wound. He jerks Caeda's weapon forward with a great heave that sends her flying and her husband rushing after her.

A desperate whine tumbles out of him as he presses a hand against some of the blistered hanging skin on the side of his face. The effect is as grotesque as it sounds. He just stands there in some strange shock, staring wide-eyed at me.

"My face," he whimpers in disbelief, "you burned..."

There's no time for a rebuttal. Boots and buckles rattle as Ylissean soldiers surround me. The eight raise their shields in a protective wall that covers our front and sides separating me into zone of safety from my aggressor.

"You certainly didn't waste time turning that situation around," someone comments in my ear as I'm hefted to my feet. The bizarre, gnarled curling happens again and I try my best to ignore the anxiety. I can't help noting just how gentle Chrom's being with me at the moment. He spins me around and holds me by the shoulders, his grave gaze checking me over for wounds. For all his seriousness, he can't hide the hint of anxiousness in it. "Gods, I thought we'd lost you. Are you well, Robin? Did he harm you at all?"

"I am tired, cranky, and in desperate need of a bath. Aside from that, fine now that you're here. Help me kill this traitorous bastard and things will only get better," I smile tiredly. "As much as I think you're silly for leaving the front to come get me, I can't help but feel grateful otherwise. Thank you."

His voice hardens. "What else was I to do? I received a report from the guard of your survival and arrive only to find Virion spouting nonsense. Someone splits up our injured strategists under false pretenses and leaves with the one carrying our secret weapon. It's hard not to see ill intentions at play. I'm only blessed to have made it in time. It was a stroke of luck some of my squad followed a wayward Risen like they did. We were able to find a set of alley ways that took us to Serene Square. The main roads here are all overcome with debris."

"I wasn't doing too bad here," I try to say all casual and fake out stretching my muscles. "You know, just fending off persistent kidnappers, surviving icicle barrages, and eliminating the organized brain behind the Risen threat. No biggie."

Chrom trips up at my words. "You did what?"

"Yeah, just being a hero. Saving the city, with a bit of help of course." I mentally kick myself and search for the two missing Einherjar.

I find them a short distance away. The city guard and the two archers stand beside them protectively. Marth, ever the gentlemen, has already helped Caeda up with an extended hand and comforting support on the small of her back. They remain hip to hip and don't part as they speak to the slack-jawed individuals around them.

"Hey! You two alright?" I call back.

"We are well," Marth replies with a raised palm. The young man watching him now jumps up and down to get Chrom's attention.

"See! I told you, milord, it was the truth! There's no mistaking the Hero King! And now his Queen graces us as well! This is no illusion!" the gangly guard gushes in glee. Oh, look. A rhyme!

Chrom's seeing them up close for the first time and he's scrutinizing the two heroes closely. He regards them with disbelieving eyes. I mean, he is really staring hard at them. Can't blame him given that they've been dead for thousands of years. He tries to speak and blinks a few times before trying again. His greatest focus is on the sword in Marth's hand. "How in Naga's name...What is...I mean who..."

"Prince Chrom, the lieutenant is moving," one of the soldiers warns.

He gives the two another long look of disbelief and then eyes me. "Stay here," Chrom orders as his hands slip from my shoulders. He strides confidently around me as our enemy's unhinged laughter haunts him the whole way.

The man is letting off a loud ruckus while staring in to his hand. He flexes his fingers one by one before unfurling them all again. Pravitus reaches up and digs the tips into his cheek pulling off a charred layer of skin. My revulsion matches his own actions as he flicks the piece away.

"Wrong, wrong, and wrong again. Try as I may it's not perfect enough. I will do it again. You will see! I will be what you want," he mutters crazed to himself. As he starts to tear at his face more, a woman to the right lets out a mewl of disgust. The noise hits him hard. Pravitus freezes up and acknowledges the line of pointy objects ready to impale him.

"The lieutenant," another soldier whispers, "what's happened to him?"

"No doubt the effects of Grimleal influence," Chrom announces sternly. The prejudice in his voice is hard to ignore and it makes me want to hide. My hand drifts further behind my back in response.

The prince steps forward to the edge of the protective wall. His version of Falchion sings to life as he pulls it forth in his typical fashion. "Tell me, what did you sell yourself to the enemy for Bradon? Or is that even what you go by anymore?"

Pravitus' head slowly cranes to the side as he straightens up. His eyes have taken a bright, wild glean to them and focus solely on me. I choke back a sound of discomfort and slink back. Chrom takes note of this and boldly steps to the side to block me from view. This only serves to infuriate the other man. Everyone tenses up when he pulls a hand from his side but all he does is produce a tightly enclosed fist.

Chrom tries hard not to respond even more negatively to our enemy's actions but his restraint is reaching its peak. "You were once an Ylissean Bradon, this I haven't forgotten. With that in consideration, I'll go against my better judgment and honor my sister's desires. I offer you a one time chance for surrender. The odds are against you. The tides of battle are turning. Give up now and the Exalt's judgment may be merciful."

Something round rolls in Pravitus' fist as he starts another bout of laughter. His tone is thin and his actions jerky. "Outnumbered? The illusion of power your species carries so proudly is amusing. Ants trying to reach beyond their station. They are the strongest of insects but still nothing to the rest of nature. They are as easily squashed as the next by those greater than they."

Up and down something in his palm goes. It reflects eerily in the light. I can't take my eyes from it.

"You will not overpower me, little prince. I hold the true power here. And once you are gone, I will finally take what I came for!"

Don't you dare open your mouth any further! You'll burn us both if you do! Think, quick! I need an excuse. Um. Uh! Before he can speak any further I blurt out as loud as I can. "The Fire Emblem! That's one of the reasons they needed me. It's what Gangrel's after and they thought to use my map abilities to find the relic."

"Oh, indeed. That's exactly it!" Pravitus is utterly beside himself, louder than before. "It's been our real goal since the very beginning."

"That's of no surprise," another soldier remarks. It's believable and Pravitus won't dispute it. Calling me out to be Grima this close to the Ylisseans now will only lead to my probable death.

"Was that your plan then?" Chrom asks while raising his weapon defensively. "I'll give Plegia this much. They recruited a mole in an opportune spot. A lieutenant of the highest station with an eye to all our dealings. It's no mystery now how they were able to predict our movements earlier."

Up. Down. Up. Caught. Fingers curl around the stone and a light begins to burn from between them. I've got a bad feeling about this. "Our plans are far deeper than you realize Naga spawn. Unfortunately, you will not live past this moment to see its fruition."

"Chrom?" I try and get his attention but he hasn't heard me.

"You will not yield then?" my captain challenges to the other man.

I do a double take and realize something is very wrong with Pravitus. Maybe it's just the moonlight but he seems to have morphed a third time today. His perfect human features are blending with different aspects all together. His face is more angular and his nose more flattened. The charred mess of his cheek has hardened and no longer looks wet with blood. He's carrying the toothiest smile ever. When did his teeth get so sharp?

"You ignorant fools." Pravitus eyes the group menacingly and his voice drops free of all mirth. "The true race of this planet will never yield."

Light as bright as the mid-day sun floods the square. We all have to shut our eyes against it. Pravitus' form is engulfed in a swirling mess of purple light and it continues to expand outward. The similarity to the transformation in the game makes the realization all the more horrible as I mentally kick myself for failing to identify things. He had a stupid dragonstone in his hands.

The shining mass before us explodes in a shower of sparkles revealing Pravitus' newest form. The four legged behemoth towers above us, scales the same color as the pinkish-purple blur of twilight. His long neck reaches out eloquently decorated with numerous translucent frills that run down the center of his head and all the way to his tail. His wings are a beautiful gauzy lavender and taper in long arches on the ends. There's an opalescent sheen to his scales that protect the body aside from the yellow underbelly. He's a beautiful creature. His long body is far more elegant and refined to the bulkier, round versions I imagine from storybooks.

"I-is that another manakete?" someone gasps. The fear is permeable and some of the soldiers can't help themselves when they step back and break formation.

"I think I'd like to formally submit my retirement from the Shepherds tonight," I deadpan.

The edges of Pravitus' maw draw back and shudder under the low rumble that comes from deep down in his belly. His voice projects out telepathically, more musical than before. There's a strange echo that seems to follow behind every word he speaks.

"Now do you understand your insignificance? There is nothing to compare yourselves to when the apex of life itself stands before you. You. Are. NOTHING!"

His rears his head back and bears all his teeth. A smokey haze of red-violet smoke begins to float out in small streams as his chest inhales. Something about the sound of it reminds me of the dragon cannon and I have a sneaking suspicion of what he's about to do.

"Chrom, pull them back! He's going to breath fire!" I warn as loud as I can.

I think he realizes it too. He steps away ordering for the soldiers to follow. "Damnation! Fall back, everyone!"

"Raise your shields!" I add in haste.

The tight box pulls in together, tower shields side by side at an upper angle. Marth, Caeda, and the others barely find refuge behind us when Pravitus lets out a ferocious roar ending in the eruption of magic fire. One of the soldiers cries out in fear as the farthest reaching flames blast against us, warming our toes. The bright pillar of prismatic spray lasts ten seconds before relenting into satisfied chuckles.

Pravitus' green eyes have dilated to reptilian slits. They gleam with an ethereal glow through the smoke puff he emits from his front nostrils. The haughty superiority of his assumed victory fuels his aggressive taunt.

"Come forth, blood of Naga! Play as your exalted ancestor once did!"

The powerful muscles in his legs quiver to life under his great leap forward. Pebbles bounce as he charges toward us. His great body twists and the tail comes smashing into the front row. Several soldiers go flying to the left as he sweeps effortlessly through them. He cranes his neck toward Chrom, his movements imitating his earlier actions. He's going use another breath attack.

"Find cover!" I holler to everyone in the vicinity while leaping for my captain. I link my arm through his and race for the protection of the outer wall. We round the corner and I throw us down just as the explosive blast follows us. Smoke and flame singe my heels as I close my eyes in reflex to the blinding display of light.

Someone's agonized screams follows the ending crackle of the attack. The ground continues to shake with tremors beneath us as Pravitus stomps on.

"This," I cough between heavy breaths, "is the worst multi-stage boss battle ever."

I pick myself up resting on my hands and knees. It gives Chrom enough room to roll over on his back with an unattractive groan.

"Bradon's a manakete," he mutters in the most defeated voice ever. He takes the back of his glove and rests it against his eyes. "Wonderful."

"You're actually surprised by this? The whole night has been a disappointment."

Getting up to a kneel beside him, I see across the gap from us is both my Einherjar. The two have taken refuge along with their former group. The poor guard is shivering like mad and pressed almost invasively against Marth's side. The archers look a bit toasty but hold their weapons tightly with resolve.

"Marth! Caeda! You still holding up okay?"

The swordsman gives me a pointed look. "I should inquire the same of yourself. Our condition depends solely on you."

"Forgot about that," I grimace as I take note of the fatigue starting to grab hold again. "Well I guess that means we're surviving."

I rise a bit and take a look through the roots of the hedges. The few guards we had have scattered. A smoking pile of melted and misshapen armor is crumpled just shy of a blackened stone monument some of his fellows have taken refuge behind. Poor guy. Just short of safety. That brings our count to seven soldiers.

Pravitus lets out another bold challenge as he taunts a trio of warriors who have emerged from their cover to bravely take him on. He makes a feint at them and cracks up at the way they run. He casually flicks at them with his tail and the one on the end goes rolling away into a bench. Pravitus is just playing with them. Their suffering is amusing him. It's like he's having the most fun he's had in a long time. That just sets me off.

"We need to regroup before he picks us all off one by one." I find my pegasus knight and call out to her. "Caeda, we're going to need your mount again. It'll be a better distraction tactic. Dividing his time between the ground and air with pull his attention two different ways."

She hesitates, placing a few unsure fingers against her chin. "I must first let my voice of concern be known. Your health is a great worry to me. I fear you won't be strong enough to withstand wielding both Marth and I at full force. You are only just comfortably holding the two of us as now. If I perform at my full capacity, it may push you to the brink of collapse once more."

"I'll have to suck it up. We need aerial support for this!"

Pravitus makes a new move at a few more soldiers trying to press against him. The two have dared to rush in close and launch a spear each. The first bounces harmlessly off his hide. The tip of the second catches under some scales. The dragon easily pulls the piece out like a toothpick with his tail. The appendage whips at them and unleashes the weapon back. It hits its owner in the foot and sinks in through the metal though the strength of it prevents it from going all the way in. Her companion helps her retreat hastily as Pravitus just misses them with a snap of his jaws.

"See!"

"Robin, Caeda is correct. You are overexerting yourself just as I warned," Marth argues back at me. He's being kind but he's also very serious about his opinion.

"No offense, but I'll make the calls about my own body. So summon your ride already!"

"No one is doing anything unless I otherwise authorize it!" Chrom orders loudly over all of us.

Oh jeez. He sounds upset. I'm going to regret turning aren't I? I can predict his face even before seeing it.

"Ah ha ha," I laugh nervously and quickly start explain myself before he can say anything. "First off, let me make the point known that I had no idea I had them until recently. I thought they were just really pretty bookmarks. The whole summoning thing is a complete surprise."

He can't avoid openly gawking at both of his ancestors. "There better be a very good explanation for what I'm seeing here."

"Well for starters, how about a quick introduction? It's not like any of you have met yet." Not in this cycle anyway. Let's bridge this awkward reunion quickly so at least Caeda knows we started over again. "Chrom, this is your great a couple hundred times over grandma and grandpa. Marth, Caeda, this is your great a couple hundred times over grandson."

The muffled gasps of the trio behind them causes Marth to clarify.

"We are Einherjar," Marth explains further. "Manifestations of heroes long past called forth in times of great need to lend our strength again."

Caeda regards the man at her side with fondness before turning the same look on her future descendant. "We are not to be mistaken for living mortals like we once were. We are but echoes of our former selves, shadows of what we once were at our greatest peak."

"They're totally on our side. I couldn't have made it as far as I have tonight without them," I add for good measure.

"Our aid is yours so long as Robin commands it," Caeda finishes.

"Robin." Chrom draws out my name suspiciously. I'm going to here about this later, aren't I?

"Chrom, don't fight me on this. All you need to know right now is that they're magic cards imbued with the heroic essence of past heroes. You throw them down and poof, instant magic. Cool. Awesome! Amazing. Now can we please get back on top of doing something about the raging dragon in the background?" I try to keep it calm but I find myself yelling out the last bit as I stand and point to the topic of interest standing right over us.

I crane my head up and stutter. "Fudge."

Pravitus lets out an ominous mwahahaha that matches the vicious sneer as his jaw chomps together once threateningly. "Surprise," he coolly announces.

"Archers!"

That's all Chrom can yell out before rolling to the left out of the dragon's descending jaw. His snout bashes into the group and he growls in pain. He raises his head and shakes it free of debris with a smokey blast.

The two archers each notch an arrow and let the projectiles fly. Their aim is true and the arrowheads make their mark. They spring off the rough hide with nary a scratch, but it pulls his attention away long enough for us to run. One of the arrows falls beside me as I dodge around the brush and I can't help but curse it out. We're so close to him yet we have nothing to counterattack with. Spears and arrows won't pierce his scales. Isn't there any weapon that can cut through dragon hide?

I feel Marth before he speaks, his body coming along side me.

"Have you forgotten your history, Robin? Perhaps a visual reminder is in order?" he seems to remind me almost playfully. He brandishes the ancient version of Falchion in an obvious manner to prove some point. I wrack my brain for information from the game regarding the sword.

That's right! Falchion had added benefits to it. It had a crazy weakness multiplier on it for draconic units given its history as a dragon slaying sword and all. I bet that's a good reason why Pravitus hasn't made a direct blow on Chrom outside of this sneak attack. He's scared of the sword!

"You've got a version of Falchion! Can't you use it?"

"I can though what I may deal will only be a tenth of what the true sword can do. My power is only a portion of what is was when I walked the earth."

My eyes dart between the two male royals, Falchions both new and old brandished in their lords' hands. "What if I loan you over to Chrom like I did Lucina that one time. Can't you get a power-up or something? We'll have two holy swords and twice the chance to deal a blow."

"The dragon's underbelly is weak. Had you enough men you would have no need to rely on Falchion as much as now. But as we are, it may be our only chance," he thinks aloud to himself. With a firm nod, he confirms my inquiry. "You are correct however. A summoner's energy is all that is required to allow us life but we may find ourselves with a greater advantage to more attuned masters. A shared discipline creates a stronger mental fortitude based on experience. In the rare case of a shared bloodline, no matter how old..."

"You get one fine buff to stats all across the board!" I cheer.

"Your terminology is puzzling but I'll assume your intents and agree."

This can work! If I can get Chrom to host Marth then the Einherjar can grow only more powerful. Even if his faux Falchion does a quarter of the harm it can inflict on a dragon as the original can, I'll take it. Every hit Chrom can't make that Marth can is still and injury we may not have made otherwise. Pravitus has yet to go airborne because he's probably protecting his vulnerable underbelly. The only way to poke him otherwise is a lucky shot or getting in close and somehow dodging his breath, claws, and tail.

Not only that, if I can have Caeda in flight again thanks to the freed burden on my own self, we'll have a better chance of distracting his attentions away!

"I love when a plan comes together!"

My elation is cut short by the incoming swish of Pravitus' long tail. I duck under the broad stroke and start to zig-zag to Chrom's location.

"Marth, I'm ejecting you from battle for just a moment. I need you back in my possession!"

The Altean's bond snaps. I feel the pressure on my left half release and breathing comes a bit more naturally. Marth's body temporarily disappears and becomes a bright orb hovering in place. It zips toward me and I instinctively reach above my head to grab him. I hold tight as I make a bold dash around the dragon.

He raises his clawed foreleg in reaction to my movements and makes to step on me, only diverting his limb when he realizes it's me. It was a risky move but it proved a theory of mine. Pravitus is not going to make a lethal move toward me much like Algidus.

I easily avoid him and swerve around where I last saw Chrom duck around to. I see a flash of blue go down a space between crates farther on and follow after him.

"Chrom, hold up! It's just me!" I yell as I round the corner in an alley. "Listen, I-I..."

The figure I followed stops. The blue I caught is actually nothing more than the dress of a woman. She slowly bends back by the torso and lets her head hang sloppily back. The dulled red of a Risen's eyes stare at me.

"Oh come on!" I shout kicking a box in rage at it.

It contorts in a way a normal human couldn't, bending bizarrely to face me. It drops down to take a leap at me and I make for my sword just as someone behind me yells.

"Robin, get down!"

I don't have to be told that twice. I drop to my knees as the creature lunges. The rush of a sword swing breezes over me as the horizontal cut catches the Risen in the side of the face. Falchion finishes off the loner with an extra lethal dose of holy magic that leaves it nothing more than an acrid blow of dust in my face.

"What a slowpoke," I cough as Chrom helps me up for a second time tonight.

"All the Risen have become like that. On the way here the monsters we faced suddenly became lethargic and unorganized. It's as if their senses had left them."

I can't help the smugness from sneaking up as I proudly answer back. "Like I said before, you can thank me for that."

"This I'll have to hear."

"Later," I interrupt, growing serious again. Marth remains in my hand as a reminder of my current quest. "I figured something out just a second ago and need your help."

I've peaked his interest. He must be able to tell from my demeanor I've got an idea in mind. "If you have a plan, speak it."

"Okay but I'm going to need you to really trust me on this," I say sincerely. He has Falchion dug into the ground with a single hand resting upon it. I press a few hesitant fingers to the top of his in a symbolic gesture of the weapon underneath. "And also a steady sword arm. Falchion is the key here."

He pauses and considers my words carefully. The cynical side of me is always waiting for that ultimate rejection. One too many times I've asked him to put his faith in the unknown. Maybe now's the time he'll stop trying to believe in my inexperience and shifty habits. Maybe this time-

My fingertips warm up with the touch of his glove pressing down over them. His open hand tops both of our own and he keeps it firmly in place. Looking me straight in the eyes, his voice never wavers.

"The latter I can easily offer. As for the former," he adds with a faint, barely-there smile, "you should know you've always had that."

Oh God. My heart just skipped. Do not do this to me hormones! Not now! I cannot swoon if I'm dead. I shouldn't even want to swoon! This is ridiculous! These thoughts are ridiculous. Focus!

I try not to react too obviously as I cautiously pull my hand away while raising the other. I turn Marth's card between my fingers and stare at it.

"I'm assuming you know about the myths behind Falchion. It's a weapon fabled for its ability to slay dragons."

"I'm well aware. I've never doubted the stories my family has told. I have the perfect chance to prove them true tonight if the blasted traitor would allow me close to his craven hide."

I put the card between us and wave it right in front of his nose. "No need to guess. I confirmed it with the source himself."

"That." He utters it with continued uncertainty. My poor captain looks so lost every time the Einherjar come up. I don't think he knows whether to treat it like sorcery and fall into respect and reverence. "Einherjar, you said? Are they as claim to be? Is that...shade truly a part of my ancestors they left behind?"

I feel a burn against the back of my thigh that's followed by simultaneous shrieks from the square. Careful Caeda!

Chrom looks visibly pained, followed by a fresh onset of anger. "We don't have anymore time to stall. Whatever it is you wish done, I'll be behind it."

I can't help but feel for him. He thought he'd storm in on some traitors and rescue me only to find dead ancestors and a dragon. I offer him a sympathetic look while talking as fast as I can. "Okay, here's the short story. These two are basically legit versions of your ancestors come to life through magic. They function off their summoner's own magical life stream and I'm running on empty trying to work with them both. I need to you accept a temporary bond transferal with Grand-pappy Marth here so both he and the missus can keep fighting with us. The fact that you two share a similar family bloodline and both carry Falchion means he's more compatible with you. On top of this Falchion, Marth's own version should get a little stronger. Even if it's not to the same effect, having two dragon slaying swordsman out there gives us a better shot at downing this guy."

Chrom stares down at the sword in his palm and then the card in my own grip. "I don't have much choice, do I? So, what am I required to do?"

"Nothing I guess. As long as you are open to accepting his connection and don't wear yourself out, you'll be good."

"I suppose, that is, you have my permission?"

"Hear that Marth, you're good to go," I say the card as I toss it in the air. "I give you my blessing to mooch off my good captain here for your yummy sustenance."

A bright orb hovers in the space above us. It draws closer to the surprised prince beside me who visibly flinches before grasping at his chest. Chrom throws me a wordless question to the sensation and I try not to chuckle.

"That's natural. It's just the metaphysical tie that binds your souls together. Don't worry too much," I try to reassure him but he only looks more worried at my explanation.

Marth reappears a second time beside his blood relation. It's as if he's reset. The bumps and bruises are gone as are the tears in his clothing and armor.

"It is done," Marth echoes as he finishes his transition into the mortal world again. He offers a bow of greeting to his great-grandson while trying to remain as nonthreatening as he can to his newly acquired host. "It is both a surprise and an honor to find myself in allegiance with kin. To know both Caeda and I's bloodline has not only survived but flourished through the ages is a testament of our devotion to the people."

I can almost hear the unspoken 'again' at the end of his second sentence. If Marth has been in Robin's possession since her betrayal I have to wonder when the last time it was he not only worked with the Shepherds but was even used!

Chrom goes slack-jawed at the sight of the greatest hero in his lineage paying him compliments. He chokes on his own voice and flails while searching for the proper etiquette to respond. Ignoring him, I push for our advancement. "M'kay, family reunion over. We have a dragon to slay. Are you feeling all super-human and ready to fight, Marth?"

"All I require is the plan of action and we can commence our assault."

"Plans! I have those," I say while pressing both palms together before pointing them both at him. "I will have one for you as soon as I can come up with it. Right now we should get Caeda airborne and gather the rest of the troops. The main objective is to get an opening in for either of you to make a strike good enough to maim or outright kill the dragon."

"I would ask you to think quickly then. We lose precious moments standing idle."

"Okay, first regroup. Then we'll work on diversions! Let's go!"

We quickly exit from the buildings and duck over to where the broken siege gear stands. The sight of the square is pretty horrific. There's a deep sense of loss in me as I see the centuries old tree in the center burning wildly with magic fire. The leaves have all curled and fallen to tiny embers at the foot of the trunk now turning black under the heat. Two more bodies have joined the fallen handicapping us further. The remaining archer and lone guard are attempting to pull away the attention of Pravitus with arrows and spears taken from the abandoned equipment barrels nearby. They're trying to save the remaining soldiers holed up in a stone forge lining the edge of the square. Though I don't see Caeda, I can feel her still active. I give her a mental prod and try to think about pegasi in hopes she gets the idea.

"Swell," I can't help but gripe as I fall to a lean against the closest ballista.

"This dragon could easily have felled them with a single breath having the soldiers trapped as they are," Marth notes with clear disapproval.

"You heard his tone earlier," Chrom answers as he presses a hand uncomfortably against his chest again. "He's got a superiority complex. Humans are no more than toys to him."

"I wouldn't suggest rushing him boldly from behind. He head may be occupied but that tail of his is no joke. It's got a wider range than those teeth do." It's the only advice I can offer.

"If I am able to get to Caeda then we can perhaps draw his attention away long enough for your soldiers to evacuate," Marth continues off of the current knowledge.

"It's an idea. Now if only we knew where she was."

We all look around but she remains unseen. She's still out there so where is she hiding? As if feeling my concern, I feel the bond between us intensify. There's a strong tug on Caeda's line that puts the prior stress on my lung back again. I feel a fresh wave of exhaustion roll over me and reach out a hand to steady myself. I grasp at the white coverlet thrown atop the nearest ballista hoping for the solid support of the wood beams beneath. I only grab air.

No one reacts to my fall as I vaguely hear Chrom point out Caeda's position a moment later. The telltale whinny of a pegasus confirms the spike with her reclaiming her mount. Great. Now to get up before anyone notes my belly flop. I stagger to my feet with the cloth still in my hands.

"Huh. I forgot this was down here."

Amid all the siege weapons being repaired from the wall was one malfunctioning magic ballista. The thing worked for the most part, needing only a new focus crystal and gears. It appears they got most of the work done on it as the actual machine itself has new parts embedded in it. The attack must have happened too soon to fix the last bits.

I go to throw down the cover and pause. Something in my tactician mind goes tick tick and the ideas start spinning. I take the raised bit of material and place it over Pravitus' far off form, then away, then back again. Stepping behind the weapon, I raise the corner I'm grasping. From this angle and distance it looks like I've completely bagged him with this blanket. Like I just threw it over him and trapped him. My thoughts drift to the ballista and the things I heard Miriel mention about it. The amplitude of magic. How large and powerful it can make simple spells.

Pravitus is large. We need a large diversion. Or maybe even a large trap.

I stare long and hard at the coverlet. It reminds me perfectly of this one spell. It's wind based. One can create a large net woven tightly with wind magic. It's a common tactic used in the old days when the royal family would go griffon hunting. The spell would be used to either ensnare the legs or the wings to limit movement. Though the original is small, this ballista in theory could amplify the square footage of it. Maybe even enough to cover up a full dragon!

"Ro-"

"Eureka!" I shriek. I throw my hands up in victory only to slap my captain in the face with the back of one.

Chrom backs away covering his nose and I panic. "Gods! Sorry! I didn't know you were there."

I'm assuming he tried to get my attention because Caeda's already flown in. I try to lighten his spirits by announcing my good news. "I know a way we can subdue him!"

Marth and Caeda both perk up as they draw their concern away from their grandson's pained expression. "Tell us quickly then."

I pat down the weapon next to me. "This baby is going to be the key to everything. There's a spell I know that I think I can manipulate into working with this. If I can, the spell will form a large net which can effectively confine our dragon friend over there."

"If he sees you, the dragon could easily smash away your attempt," Caeda warns.

"That is where you all come in. I need you to keep him busy until I can figure this out."

"You do understand how to work this machine, correct?" Marth asks worriedly.

"She doesn't," Chrom points out sternly while finally recovering from the stinging blow to his face. "Robin, have you any idea what it is you're messing with? That is an advanced piece of machinery. Even I would have trouble attempting to run a normal ballista given my own lack of experience. You're no where near qualified for that, let alone one meant for magic."

"I paid attention earlier when they were setting up and I watched Idris fire one off once," I point out while slapping down my wind tome. "Miriel also showed me the blueprints to this and explained the theory behind it just to sate my curiosity. I don't have to load it with a bolt like a normal machine. I just have to aim and apply a ton of magical focus to it. It's not hard in theory. The risks and skill to fire it off is the only thing keeping me away from it."

"If this backfires it could kill you!"

"If I don't figure out how to work this I'll be dead anyway. I have to try." I offer in rebuttal with a quick nod to Pravitus. "What better way to figure out something quickly then when time's against us."

"Do you have faith in your abilities to handle this?" Caeda questions me genuinely.

"I have to," I respond grimly as I start flipping pages for the spell.

"Hm." That almost sounds like a soft chuckle. "That determination reminds me greatly of someone, doesn't it Marth."

Her husband's disapproving stare falters. Marth lets out a resigned sigh. "That is does. It's strange how history finds a way to repeat itself."

I pop my head up in confusion but find he's already turned his back to us. "If it a diversion you need, we will provide it."

"We will do our best to recruit the remaining forces and hold his attentions. Focus and succeed, Robin. Your part has become the key to this plan succeeding," Caeda reminds me gently as she moves forward in her saddle to make room for Marth.

"Hold on," Chrom urges in protest.

His ancestor shushes him with a quick glance. "Save your strength for the right moment. If Robin's plan succeeds, then it will be by your hand that the fatal stroke is made. Until then, protect her should we fail on our half."

"He is right," Marth's lover agrees. "I have seen Risen still wandering, aimless as they are now. Should one wander in at an opportune moment, it will fall to you to keep it at bay."

Caeda clucks her tongue and motions with her heels to lift off. Her pegasus prepares to fly but not before Marth offers one final word.

"Have faith in yourselves, for we have nothing but endless amounts of that in you. As the heirs of great heroes, I know you will do our memories proud."

I throw them a thumbs up from my position under the ballista as I look to make sure the tuning rod is inserted. I have no idea what it does but we need one for it to work according to what Idris said. When I pop back up, I see Chrom is watching them with a clouded expression. Marth's words must have really got to him.

"I think all the parts are in place. Not that I can totally confirm that. Guess we'll have to fire this up and hope for the best. Can't believe I'm even trying this. Miriel is going to kill me for even stepping near one."

Adjusting the book in a space I find on the machine, I start flipping madly through the pages. Where is this spell? It's in the front somewhere. Not that, nor that. Ugh! Stop sticking you stupid pieces of paper!

"So tell me why we aren't attempting to blow a hole into bloody serpent," Chrom announces after breaking from his mood.

"I can't ensure it'd do any actual damage to him. He's a dragon and bursting with magical potential. The guy blows arcfire spells out of his esophagus for gods' sakes. A spell could just bounce off him. Hells, he might eat it and spit it back at us."

"Quaint."

"Besides," I add regretfully, "I highly doubt I'd be able to actually use a spell that sophisticated off this thing. This particular one requires no heavy exertion or fire power. It just needs concentration to actually hold together the numerous strands of magic wound around each other. By my esteemed logical hypothesis, I should be able manipulate something that simple through this otherwise largely complicated machine."

"This is all based on an educated guess," he gripes in dissatisfaction. "This plan of yours is getting better with each passing moment."

"I am trying to save our people, Chrom! Do you have a better idea?" I shoot back in annoyance, slamming one palm against the surface of my book.

"No!" He basically yells. Realizing this, he tries to temper his sound level. His grip on Falchion tightens and he shifts back and forth on his heels, anxious to move. "I'm sorry but I'm just ill at-ease. If there's action at hand I prefer to actually be a part of it. I could be helping our soldiers."

"Getting stepped on by a big dragon is not helping us," I offer up with a quick peek ahead.

My finger stops on the right spell the moment Pravitus turns around and eyes us.

"He saw us! Just great," I hiss out in frustration as I start going over what I saw Idris and others do earlier to set these things up. They'd crank these things here I think first. No, it's stuck. Maybe this one first? Didn't Miriel point out that everything has a release for safety or something?

I dare not look when Pravitus' enraged roar rips across the square. He spits a short spurt of flame in warning before circling around. I hear the first of his steps before Caeda's pegasus lets out an echoing cry.

"Why won't this stupid thing budge!" I cry angrily as I rattle the one doo-hickey that's suppose to move the big whizz-ma-gig around.

"Robin, that's part of the mechanism that adjusts the direction of whole ballista. It's still under repairs, remember?"

"Oh. I thought it was the part to adjust the firing angle. The direction is perfectly fine."

"For the love of Naga!" Chrom points to a smaller lever beside me. "Right there."

"That was my next guess," I answer back sheepishly while reaching for it. In my other hand the runes under my fingers begin to form. I feel my breath hitch as the magic beginning to rush around me weakens my muscles. It's not as bad as before but the stabbing in my one lung still hurts like crazy.

I nearly lose control of the spell as Pravitus makes another bold move towards Chrom and I. Our soldiers have caught on that we have a plan and have now come together to fight for us. Caeda's let Marth on the ground and he's rallied the men and women around him. It chokes me up because they're fighting so hard for us and they might not live to see the victory they're working hard for. I have to force the emotions down as they begin to cause my spell to bloat with extra energy.

The spell is long given how intricate it is. I can see Chrom start to bounce his one heel in impatience as he watches the fight before him. I know he wants to say something but rushing a mage is something he knows very well not to do.

Trying to put all your attention into something this difficult is hard when you're trying to block out the sounds and sights around you. It's unnerving. I have no idea how close Pravitus is or whether we've still got all our people. The pressing knife cutting into my side from Caeda's increasing need for a stable line to this plane is working my pain threshold.

I can feel the sweat starting to dot my forehead even though I feel utterly chilled. The one hand I have grasped around the lever we use as a magical conduit is clutching it hard in an attempt to fend off the shakes racking my arms. If this spell had been anything higher in difficulty, I would have failed. I understand why this isn't something for those of a beginner level. Even without Caeda's feed, the amount of magic needed to fuel a powerful enough offensive blast from this could wipe me out in minutes.

I can't say that I'm not relieved when the final bit of the spell fits into place. This took too long for me to have liked. It's such a feeble spell and I should be amazed I'm even managing to work something this small through such and advanced machine. There's a small bit of victory when I start to see the lines of the wood begin to glow. The ascent to the orb is slow though. Too slow. These aren't flowing fast like a river. It's a slug race and no one is winning.

I hear Chrom take a sharp intake of breath and I know something bad has happened. Pravitus is in the perfect spot and if this fracking magic would just go faster I'd be happier! I grip down hard on the lever and press more of my own raw magic in it to fuel it along. It starts to climb but my vision whites out briefly in doing so.

I feel the ground start to shake under Pravitus' movements. He must have found a hole and is rushing us down. I can't help looking up. His elongated head snaps right and left in his blind rage as he charges. His claws dig into the cobblestone tearing up chunks behind him. I'm genuinely afraid of what will happen to me if he catches me again. I'm even more frightened for the life of the man beside me. Chrom's as good as dead once Pravitus separates us. Where's Caeda? Can't she stop him?

On cue, I hear the flapping of wings. It's not the neighing of a pegasus that accompanies it. The wrathful screech that I hear is high-pitched and deep. It's a serpentine shriek that's mimicked twice more. A whole dust cloud envelops the dragon's form as his legs dig into the ground to prevent him from falling into the path of the javelins raining from the sky.

Overhead, three wyverns soar in aggressively. They keep a tight formation while joining the immediate airspace around us. Two more trios fly past toward the front and I can hear others out of eyesight. The creatures dart around Pravitus' head and I catch the loud shouts of war cries from the riders on their backs.

"I didn't know we have wyvern riders," I say with what little surprise I can afford at the moment.

Chrom leans forward and uses the edges of a ballista to pull himself up further. "We don't."

Then who are they?

The wyvern riders seem to be on our side. The unexpected reinforcements renew a sense of hope in the Ylissean soldiers. They form a ring on the ground around Pravitus and close in. I'm sure they're afraid but they refuse to let it hound them. The group presses him and starts to make aggressive exchanges with their spears at his legs. The area Pravitus can maneuver about to avoid both assaults on his legs and head is getting smaller.

Caeda makes a particularly daring dive for the neck. She performs an impossible feat having her pegasus twirl upside down and under his head. The full length of her spear finds the skin and digs in under a few scales. With a good twist she whips her spear and I see a piece fall away earning a pained yip from the dragon. His head curls around to retaliate but finds the wyvern riders instead. One takes a cheap shot at him from above. As he extends his neck, another comes in from below and stabs at him in the same spot Caeda did.

His cry is louder and he moves lightning quick. His teeth sink into the rump of the wyvern and holds fast. The smaller creature shrieks in pain and flails to get free. Pravitus throws both rider and mount crashing into a nearby building sending up a plume of debris in their wake.

With the pressure working against him, Pravitus decides to take a different approach. I feel the panic set in when his own wings give an experimental flap. If he takes flight I won't be able to hit him with my angle locked in place.

This steady pace isn't working. I have to speed it up. My grip is slick against the rod as I press into it with everything I have.

Across from us, Marth and the soldiers work to guide Pravitus back into my sight. Caeda adds on the heat from above to keep him down and the remaining riders follow her lead. For all their hard work, I find myself lacking. My torso begins to sag as my body is sapped of every last ounce it has to push out this single magical attack.

The platform beneath me creaks as it dips in weight. Chrom's left arm slips around my waist for support and the other rests against my own to keep it in place on the lever. For fighting as long as he has, I'm surprised he has the strength to hold me up like this.

"Robin, don't you dare give up on me now. You've come too far, understand?" It's a motivational sort of anger he's using. Don't be that loser in history who gives in right before the end. Fight for it. Win for Ylisse.

"As if," I force out. "That manakete's too much of a...a pain in the ass not to..."

My sentence dies as I find another reserve of hidden strength. I'm beginning to think Chrom's second gift is inspiring people beyond their limits because I'm pulling a miracle here. I'm working off my second wind! I refuse to give in now.

Green light finally floods all the grooves. Up and up they go until they envelop themselves in the glass piece on the end. The orb hums to the primal tune of the magical weave around it. Its aura builds and I put every ounce of energy I can muster into the weapon.

The wind spell collects at the tip and umbrellas out into a massive square of minty green trappings. Marth's call of retreat is loud and clear. Both groups scatter as the dragon looks ahead to us. Pravitus' eyes dilate in shock at the spell. I'm surprised myself, even as I release my hold to let it fly. I did it.

I think now would be the good time for an appropriate battle quote.

"Checkmate."

Chrom's satisfied shout and my own jubilation at seeing the spell encase Pravitus is lost to me as exhaustion sets in. Even the pull of Caeda's bond is of little bother. I think my part's done. I have nothing left in me to sacrifice. I'm leaving the rest to my comrades.

"Chrom, hurry," I mumble quietly as I start to slide downward. "Falchion has to..."

He carefully eases me to the ground. "I know. Just stay with me a little while longer. I'm going to get you to a healer as fast as I can."

"I'm not dying you idiot. Just go already!"

He starts to say something else but I give him a push and protest louder. It's no time to be sentimental even if I appreciate the lingering hesitation. I close my eyes once he leaves my side and let my head fall to a rest against the main piece of the ballista. I haven't been this tired since the New Year's Eve gala at the city hall a few years back. The caterer's van was attacked by a moose so we somehow got wrangled into making the dinner as well as the desserts. I thought twenty hours of baking and cooking was bad? Ha! I'll take that over repeating this evening any day!

No one will ever believe it if I tell them this story. Fighting dragons? Zombies? I wouldn't believe myself if future me stepped through a time portal and described it. Who would think a simple baker could ever manage something like this? Yet, somehow, it's true. I've found myself a world away surrounded by an alien culture and only tidbits of a fictional video game to guide me through it. If I manage to survive the rest of this night, I'll consider it the greatest achievement of my life.

The corner of my mouth raises and I crack an eye open to the sky. "Mom, do you see this? Your lazy underachiever actually did something worth remembering. Hope you're proud."

Of course she is. I'm her daughter, she'll always be proud of me. But for once, I really feel like I've done something that measures up to her own worth. I feel like the hero she always was.

Something rocks the world just outside my awareness. I struggle to turn my head. There's a lot of light coming from the front wall. A gigantic cloud of black smoke mushrooms upward and the hint of flames burn at the base of it. The sounds of human voices follow. It's not screaming. I think...is that cheering?

Nah lets off a roar. She sounds strong, triumphant even. Did they do it? Gods, please let it be so. Give those kids a reason to celebrate for once. Let us all tonight. There's been too much bloodshed already.

A similar scene repeats behind me. Pravitus emits his own cry. Unlike Nah, his is agonized. The shrill rise and fall begets his own panic and desperation. There's a powerful pounding of what sounds like many sets of wings followed by a great number of shadows passing overhead. My heart swells when a smaller collection of cheers erupts from our survivors.

Wish I could...have seen that. It's getting a lot harder to focus. My chest feels lighter and something evaporates before me. In seconds, a small firefly dances in front of my eyes. It sways back and forth in the air as it glides down into my open palm. The small breeze that follows its magical transformation into a card carries Caeda's final message to me.

"You've done well. Rest now."

Damn straight I will. Once the Plegians are finally rid of, that is.

The leaden weight of my limb anchors me down as I grab hold of one of the wooden supports. Trying to pull myself up with one arm has turned into the greatest test of physical strength. My ankles weakly press against the ground and it feels like my muscles threaten to pull from their sockets in the attempt to stand. I'm barely hanging to the side when I find someone helping me.

"Easy girl, you'll do only worse to yourself struggling like that," a gruff masculine voice chides.

A buff bicep snuggles around me and pulls me from the ballista. The nonsensical hum of question I let out earns a deep chuckle from the unknown man. He deposits me a few feet away on a bench to be aided by an elderly woman next to him.

"I said gently," the crone sighs. The woman is in a cloth robe and carries a gnarled and ancient looking wood staff. The man is protected by armor made of boiled leather. He's wrapped in a plethora of furs that makes him look like he's wearing his whole trophy collection.

"Are you alone here? Or are there others who need healing?" The woman asks kindly.

I don't recognize their clothing or the colors they wear. "No. Who...?"

"Don't know a Feroxi hunter when you see one, lass?" the burly warrior grins.

"Close yer yapper and get about helping with the cleanup. The Plegians up front need that ax more than the girl here needs the boasting."

The male rolls his eyes and mutters something about Western women before lumbering off. I'm still getting over the shock of what he just said.

"Feroxi reinforcements? They said you were wiped out!"

I get up too fast and the world spins around me in my haste to speak. The healer presses me back to the bench and glowers. "Must you Ylisseans all repeat the same thing. No, we are not dead despite whatever plans that moronic king thinks." She inhales and then spits a large wad at the ground. "Us Feroxi ain't so easy as to let the wool be pulled over our eyes. Now sit back before ya bowl over from magic consumption. Spirits, what did you do to yerself?"

"Fought a dragon," I sigh as magical anesthesia puts me in a world of wonders. "Did we win?"

She raises her staff over my chest and holds it there. The healer offers a grin of crooked teeth and calls over her shoulder. "Ey, men. The gal here wants to know if we won."

There's a plethora of hoots and shouts. The number of bodies in the square has tripled. I'm assuming the Feroxi entered the city through the south because the numbers rushing past us to the front come from that direction. The reinforcements came in the nick of time. In the back of the celebrating warriors, I see a few sets of arms raise something large in the air. It's the tip of Pravitus' tail! It's about three feet long from where some brave fighter hacked it off.

"The Feroxi haven't hunted a dragon in seven centuries. This'll be a story the fellows will tell the grandbabies fer years. The blood's boiling and now they're ready to fight anything."

"The dragon's dead then?"

"Soon, if it ain't now. The beast flew off with half a wing missing and a hole in its chest after that blue-haired boy punctured 'im like a pin cushion. Our best hunters are on it as we speak. I give the bloody blighter half a day at most before they finish the job."

I swallow my disappointment and let her ramble on. I should be happy just to survive. It's the idea that both got away and will guarantee a round two confrontation that upsets me. I wanted them finished here. I suppose there isn't much to be said about that at this point. With their retreats assured, I can remain safe for now. I wasn't prepared for them but I will be in the future. I've got time to prepare and the next instance we meet, I'll make sure they stay down.

"You found her? Good. How is she?"

Chrom emerges from the crowd, pushing away a few bodies as he walks briskly over. His clothing and armor are smeared dark with blood. His primary sword arm is completely soaked up the shoulder. The tip of his cape is now black with burn marks and I'd dare say he looks a bit singed around the edges as a whole. Regardless, it's great to see him.

"Hey Mr. Hero. Looks like Falchion did the trick," I say with a relieved little smile.

He looks down at the weapon nestled snugly in its scabbard. "So it did. It wasn't enough to finish the job, however."

Chrom looks dejected as he continues. "Your spell worked. It was large enough immobilize him for the most part. The fault lies with me. I misjudged both my strength and his speed. We made an opening and the wound wasn't deep enough. He worked his wings free and-"

"Chrom..."

He runs his left hand through his bangs and shakes his head. "My hopes lie in that the wound is a mortal one. Perhaps the blood loss will be the end of him if we cannot be."

I understand his frustrations but we're just going to have to push them aside. I try my best to comfort him with what little I can offer at the moment. "You did an amazing job, regardless. How many people can boast they faced a dragon and survived, let alone actually make a lasting blow? You've driven him away and we can return to the front to turn this all around. That's not too bad in my eyes."

There's the hint of positivity in him I was hoping for! "True. The arrival of our Feroxi allies is both a boon and a surprise. Whatever scheme Gangrel hatched has failed. I'm finalizing a plan for a quarter of the Feroxi forces to remain here in the city to find the civilians and dispatch any remaining Risen. I'll lead the rest back to Eldaran and we'll press back from the quarantined areas."

"Give me a few minutes and I'll be right behind you."

Both Chrom and the healer exchange a glance. The woman is the first to speak. "Oh no you don't. I can feel you've been through two rounds of restoratives already. Yer body's been pushed beyond its natural limits. You'll be staying back here 'til I say you leave."

I was afraid of that. Normally I'd argue the point into the ground but I've come to appreciate the limits of my capabilities today. I'll only be a liability. Virion's still up there and if they need a tactical appraisal, I trust him to give only the best. I can't afford to worry anyone else on the field and distract them with my safety when they should think about theirs foremost. That doesn't mean Chrom still has to go alone.

"Is Marth with you?"

Chrom produces the lord's card from a back pouch and holds it forward for me to take. Like Caeda, he must have reverted back after the battle's end. Instead of taking it, I gesture for my captain to take it.

"Keep him with you. I'd rather he be there to keep an eye on things if I can't. I'm sure having an extra sword arm won't hurt either."

"It wouldn't, no." He regards the Einherjar carefully before cautiously returning Marth to the depths of his pack. "I'll keep him safe."

"You better or you'll have a lot to answer for once Caeda finds out."

He bends over and gives me a playful knock on the noggin. "The same goes for you. I know you and if I get one word about you attempting to do something reckless there will be consequences."

I puff a cheek out in a pretend pout. "Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it? Put me in time-out?"

"I'll strip you of dessert privileges for a month."

"You monster!" I gasp.

Our teasing is interrupted by a large Feroxi woman. She delivers a quick report to Chrom and confirms her unit is ready to move. He acknowledges her and promises to be over shortly. The officer salutes in her cultural way and stomps off. Realizing who she's in the presence of, the healer working on me starts to watch us with extreme interest as she continues her fatigue relief on my body.

Chrom returns to our conversation, pointing at me with a tad more sincerity than before. "I mean it. You've done far more than someone of your experience level should ever have done. The fact you even saw battle is enough. I'll carry the fight through from here."

"Sure, steal all the glory for yourself. Whatever, Chrom." The soreness and crushing fatigue is finally melting away leaving a warm sleepiness behind it. I look down at my toes hoping to hide my yawn as I continue with my own tone matching his. "I won't argue with you. It'd be stupid of me to even try fighting further, stubborn as my desire to do so is. So instead I'll just have to advise you to kick copious amounts of Plegian butt and carry us through to the end. We've got so many people working hard to win this. Use the opportunities they've fought and died for to claim victory."

"It's a promise."

When I lift my eyes, I'm surprised to see him holding a closed fist out in front of him. He tilts his head and gives a shy smirk. "For good luck?"

"Ha!" I throw out my own and we fumble through an awkwardly exchanged fist bump that has us both feeling spirited and hopeful.

"We'll win back our city. I swear on it," he finishes.

"I know you will."

Neither of us give a formal good-bye because that's not the truth. It doesn't matter if it's hours, days, or a month from now. There's an unspoken agreement here between us both that we will meet face-to-face again when this is over. When we do, I'll buy us a round at that tavern we frequent by the gate and we'll drink and reminisce all night long about the craziness we endured today.

That's the real promise.

I'm oddly content watching him walk away despite everything at hand. Things could be better and they could be worse. I find the situation at hand is perfectly balanced both ways and I wouldn't ask for anything else. I can cry, laugh, and worry tomorrow. For now, I breathe.

My healer shifts and ends up leaning in close next to me. "Well, would ya look at that. He's the genuine prince of Ylisse, ain't he?"

"Yeah," I sigh contently.

"Interesting," she cackles mirthfully and waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Are you two, eh, you know?"

I gape at her. "You're serious."

"Just commentin'. The tension was thick as stew."

"Can you stop talking?" I tersely answer. Not this again.

"Sure, sure. Privacy and all. I understand. Gotta keep quiet about them noble types."

"Gods," I mutter into my hand.

She thankfully shuts up and continues in silence for a few minutes. As she raises her staff and moves around to my other shoulder, she decides to make one final remark.

"On the off chance ya are, let me impart a piece of sagely advice only an experienced woman of my age would know."

I peek through my fingers at her and glare menacingly. She rewards me with a lecherous grin.

"When I'm done here, chew on two petals of the pink dawnpetal and then drink yourself a tea mixture of cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon. The reunion sex the two of ya are gonna have after this will be amazin' and you'll need the stamina for it. Trust me, nothing stirs a man's passions better than a good bout of battle."

"PLEASE. STOP."

---

A/N: I can't believe I wrote that last line.

I can't believe I wrote any of this. Don't get me wrong, I am immensely proud of the chapter. It's not perfect but I slammed a lot of original work and research into it to make it even remotely passable. It is my baby and I will fight anyone who says otherwise (I won't really I'm just tired and full of sugar). But, I don't think I'll ever put out something this action heavy again. I mean, unless you all want that then I suppose I could try. I went from making a collected series of one-shots to 30,000 word chapters. Where did I go wrong? Gosh, this was fun to write though. I do regret not being able to cover everything like Lucina's fight and those on the front but what can ya do? Work and bills, man. Adult life sucks.

---

Review Responses -

Raiden312 – I honestly feel bad for anyone fighting a war but it's certainly more hard on the likes of Ricken and his fellow youngsters. War is not objective about age which is one of the worst aspects of it. In the heat of things, it doesn't matter what you are. Everyone is fair game. It's the part I like least about writing all of this. Suddenly I'm appreciating the moments of peace between fights a lot more than before.

Crazycatwin – Thank you for giving this a chance! And thank you TV Tropes, ha ha! I understand there's a hesitance with M-rated stories because of the gamble with the content. That's why I have warnings in my chapters and whatnot for the discerning reader. Still, I'm glad you chose to give it a shot and hopefully it continues to live up to your expectations!

Overlord Valkryie – Your poor college, ha!

I actually have come to really enjoy Virion as a character way more than I expected. I underestimated his own abilities myself and when I sat down to analyze his potential, I laid out all his abilities and was all astounded. He's got so much more going on beyond his playboy persona! In the same vein, poor little Ricken is young and prime material for growth in character as he matures. But why must it be done through war! All my regrets! Tharja's an interesting predicament and there's a few places I can pop her in. I'm debating which route to take so we'll see how soon she appears.

Dragon Cannons were implied by several people to be old, abominable creations. They're not just powerful fire magic. The decorations on it weren't for show. The cannon is literally what the name suggests. Someone had to kill a dragon and use its body parts to support the magical device. Mages feed the lungs fire and it pushes out a blast similarly to how the creature would have as if was still alive.

King Keith – Yeah, I'd like to think that's one of her best abilities too. People all have their own unique way of handling stress and hers works well for both the character and readers (maybe the author too!). The humor offers a bit of relief in the darker moments and keeps it from getting hopeless. As long as you can find the light in something, it'll never break you.

I wouldn't be surprised if references did slip in here and there. I study ancient civilizations and mythologies as a hobby so the influence colors my writing a lot. If we're talking about Arthurian weapons, I'll throw my vote in for Rhongomynyad. Also affectionately know as Ron. For such a white knight, the spear was pretty monstrous sounding. Not as amazing as Clarent but still pretty wicked.

I didn't intend for the Einherjar to imitate any Fate mechanisms but I can see the similarities when you bring it up. Anyway, glad it gave you some ideas. Looking forward to seeing them in action!

ArcherShirou – Thank you! I appreciate you continuing to read and review!

timewastin – Yep, just straight up old fashion action. I haven't done that in awhile. And poor Virion indeed! At least he tries!

Looking on what you said, I can see your point. I want to make the enemy seem aggressive and desperate, not boring and repetitive. I took it into consideration and changed my plans a bit. The separate faction now has both of their main aggressors wounded and the other is strictly support. It'll have their activity die down as they have to recuperate and plan anew. Hopefully that will prevent them from hogging face time and causing things to get formulaic. Thanks for alerting me to this!

The real one – Well, I mostly blame her inexperience and rather self-destructive habits earlier for her injuries. If you can't defend yourself properly you're bound to get some hurt. Maybe I'm being too masochistic though? I kept the damage down for this fight and will try to balance it out in the future. Thanks for your observation!

Jeez, poor Ricken. Battle is not the kindest form of development for the kid but again, realism. I just feel horrible putting him through it! But you're right, it makes the whole situation that much harder to stomach when reading. Chapters about war and fighting should leave an intense feeling, whether it be trepidation, fear, or suspense.

I am dying for this new Fire Emblem. I haven't been this excited for the next year in such a long time. I know I plan to buy every version just to support the franchise. I started off wanting Nohr, switched to Hoshido, and now am waffling between the two in indecision. Nohr's darker story is tipping me in their favor though!

A Shadow's Lament – I looked at a few of those Fire Emblem personas and the designs are very cool. I can definitely see how well they would fit in well with Grima's twisted little ensemble. The tone similarity is striking.

Well, I'm glad the strategy is coming off as entertaining. I want to incorporate the appropriate terminology and tactics but it's hard to balance the line between informative and text-book learning. I'm sure no one is here for the latter!

You're sort of close! There was a dragon on the field. Just not Grima! And what's more appropriate in fighting a dragon than having the local prince join the fray! Pair up and semi-slay the beast! I'm sure all of Ylisse will be talking about this for days to come.

Faaaaates! I watched that trailer and felt my internal radar ping toward angst way too much. I can't wait! I love dark, twisting plots and am hyped to the moon for this. I've eyeballed some potential support matches but I'll wait for the game to finalize. I have a feeling there are going to be some interesting surprises there.

Forgetful Dreamer – You're welcome! Can't believe I manage to push out these monstrous chapters sometimes. All hail intricate detailing! And Robin probably was too tired. Would have saved her a lot of trouble if she called them out early on. Poor gal! Thanks for reading!

Guest – I have NO idea. Dedication? Really, this is my hobby. Like artists who sketch or exercise enthusiasts who jog, I write to have fun. I just go at each chapter and stop when it feels complete. I'll also say best of luck on your own work! There's nothing wrong with shorter chapters! A 2,000 to 5,000 word chapter can be just as easily enticing a 10,000+ chapter. It's all about execution and style. I hope your find your inspiration and if you end up with a story, drop me a line. And no worries, I often rotate between naming entries by their number and title. I got it just fine.

Yes, thank you! If I have something close to canon couples in game, Vaike and Miriel would be one of them. I don't know why but they just tickle my fancy somehow. And thank the other readers for Sumia and Stahl. The story is breaking the rules anyway (KellamxRaimi, EmmerynxFrederick) so why not break more? Oh goodness! Precious little Sakura! I will be spoiling her and Elise to no end if such a possibility exists in game. All the best equipment and upgrades my adorable young sisters!

Skarrow – Ha, that's actually funny. I won't blame you for that. I tabletop RP and sometimes I start writing a scenario that reminds me of a similar incident in one of my past games. Brings up a good memories, it does.

A male Robin, huh? You think he'd be exactly like the current, or different?

Cordelia and Donnel showing up? Indeed, yay! Anna? We'll see...

Sweet, I'm glad the little hints have shown through. It's hard trying to balance such little foreshadowing in a first-person narrative. You don't want to be too vague, nor too obvious.

Titan127 – I laughed a little too loud at your Virion comment. The sad thing is it's also the truth. The guy is just a pin cushion if you don't snipe his enemy dead right away. Glad you liked the cannon. I spent some time crafting it after reading up on different siege engines. I wanted something to really fit the unsettling atmosphere of Plegia. And kill people too. Awesome and devastating.

Arthogawa – You were actually sort of right! It's a combination of all three points you brought up. While Robin does a good job saving herself for the most part, I think a third of the credit can go to the twins and Shepherd intervention. Anna and Donnel were actually a possibility but I couldn't find a reason to remove them from the civilians they're saving in the background. Much like Lucina's crew, it's a side story I couldn't fit in. Bummer.

Someone else mentioned Virion being quite compatible with her. They play off each other very well since Robin has a small teasing streak that humors Virion's flirtatious nature. I can see potential there. If he finds himself free of his infatuation with Sully, who knows?

Ricken's time to shine will come one day. I'd love to give each Shepherd their share of awesomeness so we'll see. I've set up his potential and can't wait to explore what he can do.

White Nightmare – Thank you, thank you! It's great you love those aspects the most because they're the parts I enjoy writing! The characters and world are so vibrant and have such great potential. I love exploring it all! You and a lot of others seem to enjoy Robin and Chrom's interactions together so hopefully the duo working together here helped satiate that. ;)

The Night Gaunt – Yeah, shaky is a good word for how she's doing. I think it's accurate given she's an inexperienced civilian getting her first taste of something so chaotic and taxing. And no, they don't give up. But Grima's minions will be nursing some wounds for a while so we'll be taking a break from them. Not that fighting Gangrel and the Plegians is that much nicer!

Kai'kel the Fereldan Magister – Thank you so much for the compliments! I have to say, I think that Emmeryn is a tough character to write. Her pacifism is her strongest trait as well as her greatest weakness. She's fascinating and heartbreaking because she's set up for so much tragedy. As a writer, it's wonderful to hear I'm doing her the justice she deserves.

Lovely theory. You found a lot of startling information mixed between the lines. I think digging up the hidden truths in everything is half the fun in these stories. All I'll say is that some are deeper than they seem. The answers to everything lie with the past, present, and future.

Welcome to the shipping docks. I think today's party will be aboard the S.S. Chrobin given this content's chapter. Totally my fault. Great to see the passenger count aboard the other two rise as well. For two impossible pairings, they've got a growing following. Love them in the most manly way you can muster. In the same vein, poor Kellam! I've never heard anyone actually miss him on his own recruitment level. That's the ultimate burn. Ha! And I love your comparison of Flemeth to Anna. That's...actually really accurate. Scarily so.

Noxious-Fics – Thank you very much. It is a big commitment to pick up something so big and I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance. I've been a big fan of the Fire Emblem universe for years and I enjoy geeking out over the different worlds. A lot of the basis to this story came from reminiscing on unexplored story corners to Awakening and how it could blend with the lore we do know. It's created some marvelous potential and I hope it inspires people to create their own unique interpretations of Awakening and its mechanics.

fwumpbump – Well, I suppose I should formally apologize because as soon as you read this I took a month long break. Sorry D: I hope you haven't been screaming in wait too long! I certainly have no plans to abandon this in the near future! As I told someone before, this is my therapy during work breaks. Why would I dump such a fabulous hobby! I do have the major plot mostly mapped and am working on the little arcs so there is a set plan. That's probably the saving grace of stories this big. You have to plan ahead or you'll find yourself written into a plot hole you can't get out of.

Amtano – Hey! Welcome! I'm glad you don't think Robin's too much of a Mary Sue. I would have to take a good look at myself and sincerely start reconsidering my life choices! Oh, yes. The infamous chapter eleven. Maybe? I've thought about it. Given Robin's habit of subverting the time line, there's a chance it might not happen. Fate's got a pretty firm grasp on things and could still cause it to occur anyway. I suppose it depends on where I feel Chrom's at in whatever romantic angle he chooses to pursue.

faolae – I hope they were sketchy! You're very right about when they first appeared. "Bradon" should have set off a multitude of warning bells. I figured his interesting smell and body language would have given him away based on what I wrote in Interlude 2. I honestly thought I was being too obvious! Man, I hate writing him. I can't believe I created a character of his caliber of creepy.

I know, poor Ricken. :( I deserve a pie to the face for that...

hot poteito – Robin is a rather fascinating creature, isn't she? I'm surprised and proud at the progression she's made up until this point. She inherits an interesting legacy and fueling her actions has been a bit of a study into my own self as well. I have no regrets!

She was in a mess wasn't she? She was able to handle it in the end, thankfully. No early story endings! Of course she couldn't do it without a bit of help sometimes. Having the twins as allies should help up her odds. So don't worry, they'll be around even more now!

Pixelsaber – Thanks for all your feedback! It's great! If you do remember anything else to comment on, let me know. Feedback fuels better writing habits, for me anyway.

I'm glad I've maintained the characters as that's my biggest joy in writing this. I don't care if they have the smallest part or not. Humans are reactive and impressionable. The conversations should always seem unique to each person and flow off each other as different characters fuel progression of the speech. As for everything else, I'm breathing a sigh of relief. Every person has strengths and weaknesses in writing. So, having either improved on problems in the beginning, like pacing, or succeeding at the toughest, like the actions scenes, is great for me to hear. If anything ever falters, let me know!

Cyberchao X – Well shoot, thanks for dropping something every chapter. You've got some great comments. Are you comparing Frederick and Emmeryn to Seth and Eirika? If so, you're right :)

I can't believe Order of the Stick is still going. I just sat through all of 8-bit and it was a nostalgia trip. And yeah, the story's gone for a whole year and then some. I try to maintain at least one chapter a month but the goal is two. Whether that happens depends on my work schedule to be honest. The amount of orders on a weekend equates to how much free time I get unfortunately. Wish I could comment on Lucina's mom but spoilers sadly.

Erika Elencia – Wow, best ever? Thank you! That's some big boots to fill but I'll try to keep the expectations going!

Henry's actually hanging around right now and I'm just waiting for the best time to introduce him. He has some good potential for an early appearance, especially if Panne is involved. Like Tharja, I just have to wait and see if I can slip him in without making things clunky. I honestly don't know still with Oliva. Her and a few others are still up in the air. I will comment that Henry and Oliva do make a great pair. Cherche, Panne, and Olivia have some pretty touching supports with him that could do well with his character development. I just haven't committed to anything yet. I'm very indecisive because I like all the pairings in this game!