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...

37. A Handwritten Letter

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

---

A Handwritten Letter

Robin,

I suppose this is of no surprise to you. Though I predicted this reaction to be inevitable, I did not expect your information to come in such abundance. Nor to be so telling. I understand your alarm and I appreciate the honesty. The brutality of it has made this a long night's read, but perhaps it is for the best. The stories we have shared in passing have forced an omission of small details. Details that can make the larger picture that much clearer. You are right in saying that it's imperative we both remain well-informed on the situation. Two halves can only remain as strong as they are together if they share one mind. Can you tell that is a phrase my father often quoted? It suits him some how, I think.

Before we begin, I best answer your foremost questions. I am doing well despite circumstances. Not once have we children ever revealed ourselves so soon. Standing before our predecessors as they are now, many still so young, is a bit, oh how should I say this? Odd? Underwhelming? Crude as it may be to say, seeing the likes of my Aunt Lissa with such scrawny knees and petite stature contrasts the images I've come to know of her. She seems so carefree. Owain is utterly beside himself. The silly fool boasts day and night about her achieving 'maximum cuteness', if such a thing is even feasible to measure. Blood he may be but I can't help but wonder about him.

Owain and I both find ourselves in a strange position. The story I crafted for us will hold its weight but the aftermath of it is not what I foresaw. We have received no ill will from any of the royal family. After explaining the situation to her Grace and having her contemplate carefully over it, she has decided to accept us regardless. It took some time for my younger aunt to become aware of the situation. Even then, the end result was acceptance. Though this is not how it should be, a selfish part of me cannot help but find this position ideal. To stand so close to family is something I cannot describe. I have experienced a small part of home again and it has rekindled my own spirits to put an end to this time loop we have found ourselves in.

As for the others, Laurent continues to work beyond the castle for us. He may not look it, but his aptitude for information gathering is superb. His ability to assume a role as needed is convincing. He researches it so well that when he speaks, one cannot help but believe he is as he claims. Laurent has also learned needlework from Lady Sumia purely out of curiosity, and the ability has helped him create elaborate costumes for his needs. His talent of subterfuge is surprising given his persona, but I can only praise them. We would be greatly lost without the knowledge he's found for us. It's because of this that he is often in dangerous places, and that is why I keep a constant eye out for his return.

It is not because I miss him. Nor is it because I enjoy his 'eye candy.' I have no idea where you received this impression from nor do I even understand what it means. Is this some nonsense you learned from Master Gaius? Please refrain from using it again.

I can say that Nah is being taken care of. Her manakete heritage has placed her under special guard here in Ylisse. She is a sacred being to our teachings yet many would take advantage of her blood for nefarious purposes. Nah feels the precautions are stifling at times but understands the necessity. She knows of her mother's circumstances before finding the Shepherds and faces the same risks.

And on that note, I must bring up a worrisome topic. Nah's mother is Nowi, if you recall from your tales. With the shift in our positions, we've found ourselves cast out of the expected time frame for specific events to occur. Unless there is some miracle that dictates us marching upon the Plegian border in two days time, we will not rendezvous with Lady Nowi and Sir Gregor's position. This is a grave worry to me because of her predicament as I mentioned previously. She had been in the hands of slavers at the time and barely escaped thanks to Sir Gregor's aid. Severely outnumbered, I don't know if they can escape without the aid of our people. I also cannot tell you the outcomes of missing our meeting. We have never diverged from the tale so rapidly. Not until reaching the sands of Plegia anyway.

I write this with heavy concerns for Nah. While I pray to Naga day and night for an intervention of some sort on their behalf, such luck cannot be expected. At this point, I suppose anything can occur. Perhaps they will survive. Perhaps our paths will cross further down the time line. But perhaps not. If they cannot escape their pursuers, we must expect alternative outcomes. Though it pains me to do so, my plan is to send Laurent ahead. Before you confront me on this the next time we speak, know that I have already passed these plans before my friends. Laurent understands the risks that come with traveling alone. But there are greater factors at play here and he has become privy to them. Losing the power of a manakete on our side will shift the balance away from us now that Grima's generals have followed us back. We must recover Nah's mother. At the same the time, Laurent will be able to move more freely behind Plegia's lines than us. He may just hear of the whereabouts to our missing enemies.

I told you that he knows much and he does. He is aware that both Grima and our Robin are missing. I suppose what I should elaborate on his what he does not know. I have not told him of the past cycles. As far as he is aware, this is the first time we have returned. I have also denied direct knowledge of these generals. They are but another strange product of Grima's own interactions with the world. I have withheld this information for the time being only for his own sake. While Laurent is strong, I do not wish to push our past failures upon him. The notion of friends lost to time nor our multiple repetitions is something he needs to bear. Having said this, please take care in what you mention. Do not repeat past cycles or your own knowledge of this out loud. I do not wish this burden upon anyone, let alone the last few I dare to hold dear. They have been hurt enough. One further omission will change nothing.

As for our own plans, this is something we can discuss in greater detail once the army has decided its course. Our talks of battle plans are slimming down to several viable options. What you and I can accomplish will be decided upon in conjunction with the allied forces' movements. That which we choose must, and I repeat must, be done together. Do not resolve to go and make any more elaborate moves without my consul. The altering of our path from the east castle and the prevention of the Exalt's kidnapping has already caused both immediate and unforeseen consequences.

Perhaps it is my ignorance in not stressing the fact hard enough. Tampering with time is no simple feat. We humans have no right to claim that domain as our own. Time is an entity all of its own. A machination in the makeup of the world. Naga, in her wisdom, saw that we children could safely guide the natural course within a safe boundary. Our god was able to see this small opportunity open up before her. A way to save our world as opposed to the end that Grima had sought to bring. It is through her power that we were able to have hopes of returning a brighter future.

The path is always there. We can save this world. This I know.

But again, I must caution. We may attempt to shape it to our desires, but time will only bend so far before our mortal hands. It is a stubborn thing that cares not for good or evil. Sometimes, I find there is a point that is seemingly impossible to change despite it all. Time is locked so tight around its decision that it will lash back the harder you fight.

In this instance, I am speaking of my aunt.

I was once like you. I sought to change every ill that befell the world. One such thing was the death of the Exalt. Originally, she was felled the night the assassins besieged the castle. It was a clean, swift death from behind. She never knew pain.

The second cycle, I came back and intervened. My father's debilitating injury was prevented, the castle guard spared, and my aunt allowed to see another morn. But I merely bought her a few weeks time. Her survival led to a forced march on Gangrel's behalf. In exchange for the lives of the guard, the army gave theirs upon the fields of Ylisstol in an attempt to hold back the attackers. To spare lives further, my aunt offered herself as a hostage. You know the rest of the story.

In the third cycle, I intervened on her behalf. With a daring rescue performed alongside the others, I led my cousin and friends through the Plegian camp to her. In the escape, my aunt was struck by a stray arrow. Poisoned with a deadly venom, she died in my arms hours later after suffering from the prolonged effects of the painful symptoms. To make matters worse, the war raged to its prior length without the Exalt's sacrifice to spur the Plegian civilians into rebellion.

The fourth and fifth cycles, I attempted to rescue her at the capitol. I won't even elaborate on the disaster that followed. Suffice to say, every occasion ended worse that before. Time, for whatever reason it may be, desires her death. The more I struggled, the more we suffered for rebelling.

It became almost too cruel to even try further to save her. Every outcome only hurt her more.

With the world's fate in balance, the efforts put forth to try and circumvent each brand new ripple was too much. Hard as it may be for me to say, I could no long do it. I was already fighting the waves of time to prevent one horrific outcome. I could not take any more. So I took another path. I chose to adapt. I molded the events to our benefit and bent circumstances as I could.

You may think me ruthless in my decision for this and I've come to accept that fact. The second cycle produced the most beneficial outcome for us concerning the Exalt's death. It rallied the Plegian people to our side and dramatically reduced the war by years. More importantly, it gave my aunt's death meaning. If she were to die, it would be as such. A sacrifice giving way to the greater good. Unless my Robin intervened in my way, I have come to accept imitating a specific path for safety. You may now understand the source of my anger when you chose to warn my aunt. By diverging our path, you have cast us into the unknown. I cannot predict the next events and I cannot guess the new path she has been put on. Whatever the future holds for her, it may not be as merciful nor of any use to us.

I had wished to avoid even mentioning this. Perhaps in a way to protect you from what you have faced already. For all that has happened to you, the ignorance would have been more of a blessing. To go home with no regrets is a goal we both share. Given your nature, it was silly to assume you would not attempt to intervene on the behalf of one you would call friend.

This is a truth I have no satisfaction in. It really is a terrible thing I write here. I can only hope Naga forgives my apathy. This mission has rarely been fair and the choices even less. I will never look back on these events with pride. Only the acceptance that what I did was for the greater good of all.

Still, I will say my anger was misplaced. I cannot blame you for attempting to do what you did. Your actions were toward what was right for my family. The past is the past and we will simply have to fight harder to preserve what we have. That is, if you still find it in yourself to consort with someone who is turning out to be far less noble than your stories have painted her. My offer still stands. I cannot claim any right to friendship and your choice to withdraw it at anytime will be respected.

If you still feel otherwise, then read on. For these are my thoughts on how we can recover.

It is not impossible to still try and steer the current time frame back on course. If you wish to save the Shepherds as you wrote in your letter, we must return to what I know. The details recovered from Robin's roster provide a good detailing of the when and where of the Shepherds' deaths. With the information provided and my own remembrance, we can potentially save them as long as we are cast back to the events of second cycle. I cannot guarantee an assurance to your goal otherwise.

This must be terrible to read. I apologize again. I read this over and over not recognizing my own words. Have you ever looked upon yourself and wondered how you have come to the present. Whether you are entirely to blame or the world? I-

Ignore this. I would start over but paper is scarce and the candle burns low.

As you said, we are now in this together. The confusion you portrayed in your letter is every bit my own. Everything is moving so fast that it must be hard for you to understand all that goes on around you. Since Grima's second ascension last cycle, I have been forever on the edge of a knife. Nothing is as it was.

It began with Grima. Then Robin. Now, these generals. One cannot say we aren't working for our happy ending, so to speak. Our trials dwarf any my ancestors may have seen.

Time. Cycles. The past. The future.

All of these have occurred and yet you remain ignorant of them despite your own namesake being the cause of them. You know of her. This Robin who once stood in your shoes. Perhaps you have felt bits of her with these strange memories you somehow mysteriously hold even though I cannot fathom how. But who she is is largely lost to you. After perusing her roster, I can see why you would question her. It seems to me as if she had been trying to record the changes. She was monitoring something in the ways the key players reacted as well as the decisions made. The very last pages are of one large chart. Events that went along the original time line and how they broke off and branched to others. She was experimenting.

It frustrates me as much as it does yourself that most of it was destroyed in whatever fit it was she had. Your claims that it had something to do with my father are confusing. I know not why she would have done such a thing. Her erratic change in behavior is something I cannot tell you. All I can say is that I am not surprised she did what she did. The woman was nothing but a shell of what she was the last time we spoke. Nothing of the brilliant tactician I once knew was behind her dull eyes. The destruction of a good portion of those recent notes is disappointing, but we must be thankful for what was preserved. The information tied to your map is still whole.

What is lacking is the newest developments from the last cycle to this one. The generals. You are correct in your guessing. Robin's roster is the anchor to her map. What is inscribed in the book will be mirrored upon the paper. It is an old heirloom allegedly. Placing information on the generals would be a wise course of action. I will happily tell you what I know, limited though it may be. Given the severity of my own mission, I did what I could to avoid the worst of battles. It pained me to do so but finding a way to reverse the effects trumped all else. Even if I had done the Awakening ritual then, Grima was protected behind her minions and confronting them would have led only to my death.

As for your desire to know of what happened in other cycles, I will sate your curiosity in person if need be. What's most important at this moment is that you know of what happened in the last cycle.

The horrors were equatable to those of the first. When Grima first appeared, the role of Robin was played with much exuberance. Grima reveled deeply in personal vices. Drinking, food, merriment. Still, the brilliance remained and devastating strategies were crafted. The plans often included making the most of the destruction of life. The war must have ended too quickly for the imposter's tastes. Grima's self-indulgence soon gave way to boredom during the rebuilding years. It was shortly after my birth that the truth came out. I had no chance to react and neither did anyone else.

Grima's reign came quick. Ylisse and Plegia both fell before we could blink. The former tactician delighted in the devastation. It could be my imagination, but Grima seemed more alive and animated than ever before. Is such a thing possible to say? I cannot pinpoint it but the fell demon was different. Vibrant. The killing was less of a mindless slaughter and more like a calculated killing spree. Grima delighted in the pursuit as opposed to wanton chaos spread in the first cycle. Why there was a change in tactics I cannot say. The outcome was no different.

The survivors fled to Regna Ferox where we watched storm clouds brew on the horizon. In the depths of the carnage, Grima retired. From that rest, new figures emerged one at a time.

These are the generals you wish to know about. Creatures I've never seen before until now. The second coming of humanity's downfall truly began with their arrival. Grima seemed to hide after this and allowed the generals free reign. An odd thing for the dragon to do. This is why is took longer for us to fall as a race. Humans endured because Grima's main power was withdrawn. In their master's name, the generals pursued the goal of mankind's destruction. Each in their own way.

The first general went without name for as long as I have known him. We simply referred to him as the First. It was not until the night that the Grimleal attacked us in this time line that we could apply something beyond a title to him. Letum, it seems, is the self-proclaimed hand of Grima. He is the first to appear in the guise of a dragon. We deduced him to be of earth dragon origins. Great was he in girth and his muscular frame allowed him to bury beneath the earth at great speeds. He seemed unable to fly thanks to the stunted size of his wings. His scales were of a darkened brown and dust storms followed in his wake. This allowed him to blend with the earth and strike quickly. In only a year's time he had destroyed Regna Ferox's wall, the only thing keeping the survivors safe from the Risen hordes roaming the Ylissean and Plegian lands. Yet once the task was completed, he retired back to Plegia where he conducted matters alongside Grima. We don't know why Grima would have pulled him from battle as powerful as he was. Some claimed that in the final sightings, he seemed to be in a weakened state. His scales had fallen off in clumps and his reptilian skin would sag off his bones. It was as if he was crumbling apart. Even with his physical presence gone, the devastation was more than made up for following her next generals.

Next in order came the one who would become her eyes and ears to far off lands. It is only through the mad ravings and shaking whispers from dreams that we ever retained this general's name. Tantibus is, was, possibly a fire dragon. I only believe this because those who recovered from his touch recall seeing him with a very specific form in their dreams. Two burning coals would stare into their souls, trapped in a swirling cloud of ash and smoke that shaped the profile of a dragon. This creature was never corporal. Its specialty lies in reconnaissance and mental disruption. It's my suspicion that Grima taught her generals dark magic to further their abilities. This Tantibus, much like Letum, could use the school effortlessly with their own magical essence fueling it further. In my opinion, Tantibus enjoyed the power the most. Especially so as it was using our own spells against us.

Ability wise, he is the most versatile. We have found that he can see through the eyes of Risen which is an exploitation he used regularly for observing our plans. Whether he can create and fully control a Risen like Grima is questionable, though there is evidence to suggest he can. I believe he is the one who would watch the battles and report our movements so the Risen hordes could counterattack our measures. It is the only way to explain how the leaderless armies would move so well. Now what concerns me is your report on the incident in Regna Ferox. This is most likely his work. Aside from this, Tantibus had one further trick. He could, for a short time, possess a human being.

There is a curse that allows a capture of the body. The mind must be under extreme duress and weakened to a state that the host cannot fight back. Often his victims would include those already suffering greatly from loss or war. Specific targets could be worked on for days. They would endure night terrors where he would whisper lies or present images to steal their sleep and sap their will. Should he possess someone of importance, the damage that could be done would be insurmountable. We lost many good people to his intrigues, yet had no idea how he was able to reach into the minds of so many. These 'invisible Risen' you encountered may have solved the mystery. What hurts most is that he was attempting to target the royal family. I cannot dare imagine what would have happened if you did not intervene that night.

When the next general arrived, we found we were no longer safe by land or sea. Like Letum, we knew no name for this general and merely called her the Third. The Algidus you mentioned fits all the abilities of Third though. She was a creature tied to ice and all forms of liquid. It is both her strength and weakness. The general has absolute control over her medium but remains tied to it or risk losing her power. Only once has she been seen on land in a body bloated and twisted with the look of one long drowned. Her skin was pale and cracked black with frostbite. The scouts that attacked her found her by a river far inland. She possessed a great deal of magic and fought back with a limited control over Risen and a magic we have not seen used in thousands of years. There are tales of water magic once existing but the practice was lost with the ice dragon tribe's extinction. What you saw in the square is a taste of her abilities.

She is why the continents became isolated. Her swift aquatic nature allowed her to find our ships and destroy them. A feared sea monster is what Third became known as. To reach us inland, she would raise the bodies of those lost to the waves as Risen and force them on us. Our ports were seized and the trade routes severed leaving all landmasses locked unto themselves.

Of them all, there is one in particular that we immediately knew by name. Pravitus is the only dragon to emerge after Letum's disappearance. Unlike his ally, this dragon was slender and agile. Reckless and haughty, Pravitus was the least feared because we at least stood a chance of survival against him. Though powerful, he exhibited a cocky assurance that cost him mistakes. He preferred to show off and bring trophies to his master as opposed to actually win a battle. From what you have described of your encounter with him, the actions make sense. He always had a desperate, pathetic devotion displayed for Grima. Perhaps she was ashamed of him? She had him appear in the least effective strategies or played him to the role of decoy rather than main antagonist.

Your distress at his perverse dedication is something I do not blame you for. It made me uncomfortable to read what you endured and his prior actions only cause me to cringe harder. Avoid this one at all costs.

This brings me to my final description. I write this one with a different type of concern. Mostly for you and the unhealthy relationship you seem to be investing in despite all my warnings. Marc and Echo are the last of Grima's generals. Given how different they are from the others, we knew not how to take them at first. A simple rider and one wyvern? Pardon, dragon as we have so eloquently found out.

We underestimated her. Sorely. I have only experienced personal battle with her, twice. The first was merely a sighting from afar. The second came this cycle when we parted ways in Regna Ferox. I need not remind you how they attempted to kill my companions and me. They showed no mercy, Robin. Had there been no intervention, we could have died.

Is that who you wish to align us with? Murderers? Devoted followers of Grima with the blood of countless Ylisseans on their hands. Feroxi, Plegian, and more as well. If that cannot dissuade you, perhaps the fact that Khan Flavia and Khan Basilio both perished at their hands will. Marc desecrated their bodies and claimed their heads as trophies for her master. An act accompanied by fierce gloating and an insidious display of her horror over the fleeing remnants of the army.

There is no information in any past histories about these two. They follow no myths we know of Grima. Worse yet, my belief is that Marc is human. One of our own betrayed us. It is a mystery why Grima would take in a human child but it may lie in the bond she and the manakete have. My interest goes no further in this. They are an anomaly but my only care sits with their demise.

Marc is a martial genius. Her prowess with her spear makes her deadly from her mount's back as much as it does when she is grounded. She is noted to be quick at memorizing her enemy's attack styles and adapting to them quickly. Should an opponent find a way to avoid the length of her spear, they will find themselves caught in another trick. The weapon she carries is of old origins. Enchanted with dark magic, the weapon allows her a limited use to the spell we have deciphered as Flux. It allows her to manipulate the shadows to the physical plane. She can grab, throw, or constrict her enemies within a set radius. I have felt the effects of this first-hand. There is a paralyzing cold that seizes your soul and renders you immobile. I would prefer not to experience that again.

Her partner I know less of. Echo is a creature hard to place. We had thought him a wyvern from the size he first appeared. Having seen him close, either the accounts were inaccurate or he has grown. He is the same size as Nah and equal in power to her. All the benefits of a manakete will apply to him. What separates the two is that Echo can manipulate dark magic like his brethren. He can blend effortlessly when in shadows allowing both to surprise even the most acute scouts. If he is a manakete though, he suffers the weaknesses of one. His skin will not endure the same force a true dragon can and he can succumb faster to wounds. Magic will likely have a greater impact as well.

Though you cannot tell from the writing, I have paused for the greater hour at this point wondering what I can say to dissuade you further from this desire to associate with Marc and Echo. Have you ever considered that this strange fondness you have for them is merely a psychological reaction to the profound circumstances concerning you? That these feelings are actually a reaction of empathy based upon your prior meetings? The fact they saved you in the fields from that fort during a traumatic experience could easily make you feel indebted to them. And as you have the rational that any sane adult would have, realizing their youth and circumstances in war would immediately cause a desire to protect. I honestly believe you are letting your good nature cloud your logic.

Unless you have been lying this whole time, you have made it clear you are not Grima. That means you are not bound to these two at all. The sins of Grima and the past Robin do not rest on your shoulders. There is no reason for you to feel accountable or to redeem them. That would actually be the worst thing you could do. They will eventually find out you are not who you claim to be. Can you truly believe deep down in your heart these two will continue to follow you with the same adoration they had when believing you to be their master? If you can answer this in any other fashion aside from 'no,' I would love to hear it personally.

Worse yet, they are tied to something I have no knowledge of. This shadow general is considered Grima's favorite? If that is true, the fell dragon has kept him close for he has been on no battlefield I heard. There are no reports of a Risen general hiding in Marc and Echo's steps. He either came late to Grima's reign or remained at her side the entire time.

I will admit some degree of curiosity to this rogue element among Grima's generals. I have read everything you wrote and then once more to ensure what I saw was right. His actions have exhibited antagonism toward the others. I would daresay his only motivations seem to revolve around Marc and Echo. Their personal connections are as much a guess to me as they are you. My prediction would be that the two have latched to him with this surrogate paternity out of a shared fondness. After all, how can an undead claim to have sired a human and a manakete? It seems to me that they have formed an adoptive family. Strange considering these are among Grima. I would not fathom something so benign forming in an environment as twisted as theirs.

But all this theorizing means nothing at the end of the day. I will not advise anything other that what I have said already. Stay away from them, him included. They are the enemy Robin. You have experienced their sadism and lust for our demise. There is no good in Grima or anything involved with the dragon's group. All you will find is death, including yours.

I am reading back upon this again and I feel as if I have only come across as cold. Harsh. Much of this information is coming to you for the first time as nothing but facts on paper. There is much here and still much more I could tell. Circumstances and my own mistrust have prevented us from properly...connecting. Forgive the trailing for I am struggling to find the right word for it. It took until the Ylisstol's siege to truly accept you as an element in the universe. The Robin I knew is gone. I have grown only accustomed to reviling and rejecting her name.

You are the opposite. An unfortunate innocent thrust into a role you have no experience for. My father is right though. You are good person. You are not bound to any of this. There is no reason for you to take up a sword and fight for a world you'll one day leave behind. Yet you do. Despite it all, you've continued this journey with no promise of rewards except to one day be rid of this mark placed upon you and to live your life in peace once more. I've been a fool to mistreat the token of friendship you've continued to offer all this time.

No doubt there are other questions you have or more to say. There is only so much room on these small parchments to fill with our thoughts. The next time we meet, should you still wish to even after all I have admitted, it will be as equals. I promise this. We are tied together now as both allies and comrades. If we are to save my world and return you to yours, we must work without fears or inhibitions.

I began this letter with a quote from my father. I believe I'll end it with a quote from another familiar person. Unsurprisingly, he often considered this person his other half. Together, there were no odds that seemed insurmountable before them.

"We are not some pawns of a scripted fate. I believe we are more. Much more. There's something between us all that keeps us together. Invisible ties that connect us and make us one. It is because we've come to understand and value the lives we are bound to that we fight with passion and strength. No destiny can hold sway over us when we make our own choices, choose our own futures. A human's will is, what I believe, to be the strongest force in this world of which nothing can compare."

Perhaps your stories mention this as well. If so, you know who I'm referring to. Lofty as the image may seem, I am starting to have faith in the fact that you may one day live up to her name. Or perhaps I am wrong. You will make your own name in your own eccentric way.

The tides of time are powerful and our struggle it great. The path can seem hidden or sometimes immoveable. But only the greatest rewards can be achieved by sacrifice I have seen. I will fight as long as breath remains in my body because some day all that is wrong will be right again. Even at its darkest, I have never lost the hope of reliving the joys of my first memories. Naga has shown me a path to find that light and I will not stop until I grasp it.

If you find your own self doubting, remember the remarkable feats that have been accomplished in your time here. A less capable being would have collapsed months ago, yet you endure.

We will find the path Naga foresaw. I refuse to accept any other outcome.

Humanity will not die as long as hope remains.

- L

---

It's deep into the night when I finish the letter. The candle burning beside me is barely a nub with a tiny circle lighting my tent. It's the first day into our march and I've just mustered the courage to take it out. Overall, this is the fourth time I've reread it since Lucina handed it to me.

The day was too busy for me to have a good sit down with the girl in private. We managed a passing glance here or there between the marching. As a Shepherd, I travel with my cohorts. Lucina and her friends are being kept close to the Exalt's retinue to protect them until a place can be formerly found for them. Whether Chrom takes them into the Shepherds is a mystery to me. There's a hanging doubt behind letting them in. It means he has to divulge in full who Lucina and Owain really are and only the closest of their circle have been told so far. I don't blame them for treading lightly when we're already on edge with the war.

I lay back against my bedroll, the pillow extra cushioned by the softened grass underneath. This is a luxury we'll lose the closer we get to Plegia.

I stare at the top of the tent and ruminate on Lucina's words.

This kid. Resentment is too light a word to describe her. Sure, it's expected she'd be a lot more dour after all the things she must have endured until now. But...

Gods above. I could hear every bit of her own self-bitterness seeping in through the ink.

Reading it all shocked me at first. But before I could force myself to make any shallow accusations of my own, I thought about it. No one ever said this task would be easy. Nothing is guaranteed. We can change our fate, sure. But if it was that simple, we wouldn't be at this point would we?

She had to make decisions no human being should ever face. Something about that just fills me with anger. Lucina doesn't deserve this. Her friends don't either. What intergalactic force thought this was fair? I thought there was some cosmic bullshit about the forces of good and evil balancing out. One not getting more powerful than the other. Why does it seem like the evil just keeps getting stronger and stronger? That they're just jerking her around for kicks and giggles?

Yeah, that's all messed up. Jeez, it's more than I expected to take in. But by no means am I going to even think of abandoning her now! She's already lost everything including what sounds like her own ability to trust. If she's gained a little piece of herself back, why the heck would I want to shatter it?

I'm no innocent here despite what she thinks. I...wasn't thinking about the future when I warned Emmeryn about Plegia's incoming attack. All I could see was the present and her immediate capture. I have changed our path. We aren't moving toward the border just yet. That means we won't encounter Gregor or Nowi. I've probably skewered the chance to meet Tharja too.

Another big mistake on my part.

What we are doing is taking the combined forces toward Fort Tyr to clear it out for our first command post. Emmeryn can then dictate from the safety within while we push forward. It lies on the edge of the plains and sits at the threshold of a major highway. Risen reports have dropped dramatically with Plegia's retreat allowing us to move almost unperturbed. Seems a vast majority of those sightings were the soldiers in disguise.

That's not to say we haven't had a run in already. There was a small skirmish involving a scouting squad late this afternoon, but it was nothing we couldn't handle. There's been no sighting of abnormal Risen either.

Having entered the information in for the Invisi-Risen, I've kept my map activated in the main tent for reference. We've got a sentry watching it all night for this purpose. Just to ensure no one tries to sneak off with it, Chrom's got only Shepherds handling this. Poor Gaius pulled the short stick tonight. He looked utterly deflated the last time I checked in with him before bed. He was building a stack of discarded lollipop sticks into a castle to pass the time.

I press both hands to my face and let out a long-winded groan. What the heck am I suppose to do now? Lucina's right. We could have easily skirted through this whole war on our foreknowledge. The trade-off for that would have been Emmeryn's death though. Could I so easily have accepted that? I'm not so sure.

Even if I didn't intervene in Ylisstol, I would still have tried to stop her at the pass. Or anytime after.

Is that selfish of me? Her death means countless lives saved with the war ending quicker. But I can't even imagine consigning her to such a fate after having known her! Emmeryn's a kind and gentle individual. She has so much good in her. I won't say she's a personal friend but I value her as an individual. More importantly, she's something to those I do know well. She's loved by so many people. Chrom. Lissa. Frederick. Phila and her siblings. Probably others I know nothing of.

"This bites."

The canvas ripples lightly from a brush of wind. Outside, the glow of torches filter in a line of red that flickers wildly at my feet. The voices of the army have hushed to low murmurs between guards and the occasional bark of laughter from a late night reveler. It's oddly serene. If I close my eyes, I could almost believe I'm enjoying myself at some summer camp. There's no indication that we'll be pressing up a siege in the near future.

But I said almost. The knots in my stomach prevent the lull of sleep from taking me away. My mind swarms with what-ifs. Fears for Nah. Trepidation for Emmeryn. Confusion concerning the twins.

At the same time, I've found a bit of light in all this. I think I've finally gotten through to Lucina.

I had been worried when I bombarded her with that letter. The fact that she penned so much into that letter astounds me. There are minor things we can go over later but the majority of it was at least addressed in some fashion or another. I have a better understating of this...this mess I've come to inherit.

She says I'm not bound to Robin or Grima's sins but I can't help but feel otherwise. If a mess is left behind, someone has to clean it up. If we all just turn away claiming it's not our duty to handle it then who will? Should we just let it sit there and rot while nothing gets done? Someone has to be the one to step forward and take responsibility. It may not be glorious or rewarding, but most things aren't.

People are hurting. Dying. Children stopped existing. How can I sit here and ignore that without feeling sick at my own arrogance?

Another reason I respected my mother is the logic behind why she became a police officer. She honestly wasn't in it for the heroics or the thrill. She told me that she became a cop because she wanted to be the individual others could rely on. Mom wanted to be that someone who would take responsibility when others would not because she had the patience and courage to do so.

Something in her simple creed resonated with me. Nothing she did was for personal gain. Here I was some spoiled child. My life was secure and safe. I knew no hardship. The worst day of my life was a conjoined twenty-four hours of period cramps and bad acne. So when she told me this, I realized I was really selfish. She burdened herself with the troubles of a city everyday and asked for nothing in return. I threw a tantrum when I couldn't get a damn cheese pizza from the cafeteria every Friday.

I felt like I was taking advantage of her. I wasn't helping at all. Just hindering.

I suppose I could lie and say I became some saint just like her. Truthfully, I was always aware and did my best to remember that. I didn't change all that much though. The message stuck with me in the little things I did. If my coworkers left the dishes in the sink, I washed the stupid things anyway. If a customer's little brat dropped a display on the floor and walked away, I cleaned it up without flicking her off. I got nothing from any of this but more dirt under the nails. Yet, it kept the peace. The bakery lived on and balance maintained.

So when I face this, I guess I can't help but want to right the wrongs. For whatever reason, my lesser half screwed up. She was doing something and left one large trail behind. Lucina and her struggling band shouldn't be the only ones to pick up the pieces of the broken time line.

And those two kids. I know Lucina. I know very well that this is all bad news. They are the enemy. Maybe it is my overwhelming desire to protect. Grima's own disgusting sins are written all over the twins. Is it so terrible that I want to preserve something out of that hell the dragon created for them?

Something small and alive grew out of the poison Grima wrought. Blood relations or not, three individuals in that army found a way to come together and call each other family. They're reaching out to me and I...

I don't know why I want to reach back so bad.

I still need answers. Pieces are falling into place slowly but I need more. Lucina at least put me on a good start. She addressed almost everything.

Almost.

There's one particular thing she ignored about the roster. After all the information and the charts, Robin kept a personal log. The first pages contained little things. Medical information like allergies and persisting ailments to watch. The next broke down the Shepherds chain of command and followed with multiple suggestions to the best prescribed team combinations based on situational and talent needs.

Then it all goes downhill. The first hints of Robin's madness take place in scribbles and nonsensical comments alongside the original notes. Beneath the ink scratches, only a few pages persist in the clear handwriting I assume is from her more sane days. A family chart with marriage dates and births is followed by another listing all the children and their burgeoning skills. There was also a page of notes on viable candidates for potential Shepherds. This is where that bizarre memory triggered. She wiped this all away with heavy, jagged lines scraping over and over until the information bled and broke under the ink.

The handwriting after this is more jerky and erratic. The top of the page says "Cycle One." Vicious graffiti and gaping holes in the text mar what follows. Her summary of the individual cycles and her own goals are piecemeal at best between the damage. I can't make anything out of them.

This is why I had to rely on Lucina. At least maybe she could summarize things for me to help discern a hint from this madness. I think it's tied to something behind her motivation.

But all I got in the letter was a simple brush-off. Worse yet, she completely ignored my questions regarding the lost children and all their parentage. I freaked out when Lon'qu turned out to be Owain's father. I nearly nixed the boy from existence by macking on his dad. I definitely didn't want to do the same thing to Nah or Lucina. It'd be nice to know what children went where as well. I want to give Lucina back the time line she knew. That includes all her friends. It would be sort of good to know who paired with who so I don't erase them eternally. If this is our last chance to make things right, putting together future Severa's mom by accident with future Yarne's dad probably isn't the best.

And, you know, I'm just curious.

Especially since that little encounter with Ginette a few days ago. That whole experience is a bloody plot hole I don't even want to think about. Her reaction was way too twitchy to brush off as nothing. She didn't expect me to be the one to intervene on Ginette's behalf. Did she mean Chrom was suppose to find her? Lucina specifically mentioned a 'he' and I don't think Frederick being the hero would illicit such a reaction. If I didn't already think of Ginette as the village maiden, I wouldn't be so suspicious.

The thing is, Ginette has a kid. She didn't in the games. It's possible that she could have...lost him in the raid. That would explain a lack of an appearance. But he's alive here. Did I happen upon them early enough to save him?

Or does it even matter? It's not like the game plot is strictly beholden to reality. Maybe there was a brother? Or maybe I'm completely off the mark and she really has nothing to do with Lucina personally. Could be she was just someone really important to Southtown. If there's anything I've learned up to this point, nothing is set in stone. There's so many different potential outcomes that I can't just assume anything.

That's...why I decided to ask. The thing is she didn't answer. Thus, I'm suspicious. And I don't like being suspicious. It makes me dream up all sorts of crazy possibilities.

Like, uh, well...

I sort of feel like I just locked out Ginette from ever being a viable option for motherhood. Aside from the obvious first reaction and some looks, nothing has really happened. And Ginette isn't following us. She's staying in Southtown where she's become a prime figure in the restoration of both the town and the hamlets around it. She's still got her son and she's moving on bit by bit. It doesn't seem like she has any plans on leaving her home nor any desire. Her heart is set on reconstructing the place she's settled down in.

That sort of makes me feel like she's been set into her own path of life. And it's leading toward the bustling Southtown. Not Ylisstol's tall walls.

But that's just my gut again.

Hmph.

This just sits odd with me. It's a consequence of my actions. And according to Lucina, a lot of what happens with the Shepherds extends to that. The lack of Other Robin in the story is what gives way to their defeats. Without her presence or tactics, the war claimed more lives than saved them.

As much as this story seems to rely on Chrom and Lucina to reach the end, Robin is the shadow behind them that builds the foundation for their success. It's because of her that everyone else excelled and flourished.

That's a lot of pressure for a simple little baker.

Originally, and this is if everything worked out, I was hoping to leave after Plegia. At that point, maybe the Shepherds would be able to be strong enough to go on without a tactician. Maybe I could have pushed enough of them to start their own way back into the families Lucina knew. They'd have learned how to handle a war and Valm wouldn't be such a bad thing. We could do something about Virion and his ties to Rosanne.

Mostly, it's the latest I think I could leave without the thing I fear most happening.

The longer I stay here, the harder it gets to think about leaving. After that battle in Ylisstol, I started to realize that when I mentioned home, I meant here. Ylisstol's walls and the castle barracks had become what I think about at the end of the day when I want to go to bed. No longer is it the cozy room in my townhouse. Work revolves around the Shepherd's war table, not the industrial oven or decorating counter I used to frequent.

Don't get me started on my old friends. It's no doubt they think me dead by now. It's been months. The search would have been called off and I'd become a box on the shelf that a few detectives will still pursue until the last leads end. Then I'm another cold case stashed away in the precinct's supply room.

Ah, shit! Jules' is probably going to sell my junk in a fit of grief. I know her! My friend is going to dump everything and that's going to include my vintage bobblehead collection! God, she hated them. She made me move them from the display case in the main hall and I had to keep them in the study. I bet the troll will be the first to go. I bought it from that cave we visited one summer. It was a souvenir of the critter that was suppose to haunt the place and it freaked her out. I would hide it in her sock drawer for revenge whenever she ticked me off.

A strangled little gasp bubbles up. I realize the corners of my eyes are damp.

"Damn it," I mumble into my arm as I wipe away at the tears. Sitting up, I sputter in disgust. I might be acclimating to the present but it doesn't mean I'm completely over the past. Man, I don't need this. I've just gotten myself into a tizzy. Sleep won't be coming anytime soon.

I push off the ground and stumble forward. My hand gropes around the disheveled remains of my small space. I grasp around my coat and pull it over my bare arms. Two boots later, I slip out through the front of my tent. I slide my hands under the crook of each arm and take a step forward.

Normally I feel at ease looking up. The night sky here is crisp and clear with the light of many ancient fires burning undisturbed in their celestial space. Tonight, the expanse seems to mirror our own fears. The stars glow dimly and the galaxy is more red than purple. The moon wanes and imitates Naga closing her eye upon us. Some of the Ylisseans are superstitious about this and would rather wait to fight after the coming of the new moon. It's all hogwash but tell that to those who believe strongly.

I take a few steps forward, trying to decide the best place I can walk around. It's not like I can go far even if I did. Chrom's made it a point that I shouldn't wander off too far by myself if I can help it. If it's outside the inner command circle after we break camp, he prefers I'm accompanied by another Shepherd to ensure my safety. It's a nice gesture and I appreciate the extra protection from any future surprises. But does it have to be for everything? I've made it a habit not to drink after dinner anymore. There's no way I'm waking up in the middle of the night to poke my head into Frederick's tent and ask him to escort me to use the bathroom.

The bonfire in the center still blazes and beckons me in with its light. I suppress a shiver and wander over. A guard stands off to the side and uses the weight of a weapon cart to support her. Her head nods up and down as the eternal fight for sleep and consciousness rages. Her shadow is cast long behind her and dances against the tent side with every lick of the flames. It looks as though a demon has possessed it.

A log pops as I stand next to the great blaze. Sparks burst upward and explode into ash, disintegrating into the wind. It triggers something dark in my already troubled mind and I flinch deeply. I count to ten backwards as slow as I can. A deep breath follows between each number.

It still happens, just like Chrom said it would. A sight sets off bad memories and it comes rushing in like a flood. Most times I can just talk to someone about it. Usually it's Frederick or Miriel. Sometimes Chrom or Virion if they're closer. I just need a sensible person to listen and talk me down. It's helped, enormously. I think trying to handle things like that alone would eventually kill a person. But occasionally there's no one and the jitters get bad. Miriel got me to do these exercises if that's the case. It's like counting down to sleep almost. A breathing exercise that may seem weird but seems to help. I don't know if it's the extra oxygen to the brain or what, but it calms me somehow.

I blink and the feeling passes. I can feel the heat on my cheeks and the harsh edge of the fire fades to become more welcoming. It's all okay.

"Ha."

The slip of self-depreciation floats away as I give a bland half-smile.

The night crawls on as I stand my silent vigil. I shift occasionally for comfort as the fuel dissolves. The guard, now napping fully, snorts awake as a comrade comes to trade shifts. Before she drags herself away, she tends to the dying fire. The flames, barely reaching the top of my knees, gorges itself on the wood added to the pit. Soon it crackles to life with a renewed spirit.

She sags past and nods once in greeting. I give a quick jerk of my chin in response and follow her away. When her body passes, I notice someone crouched a bit further on beyond her. The figure looks as though they've been comfortably sitting there this whole time, yet I never even noticed them. I can't believe I didn't see them. I must really be losing it.

The figure sits cross-legged and hunched forward on a woven mat. He's young, a bit older than Lucina. Maybe Chrom's age. His light blonde hair reflects almost orange in the firelight and is messily tied up with plenty spilling out around his neck. A dark travel cloak engulfs him. Two arms wearing the sleeves of a heavy traveler's coat move before him. The motions look as if he's throwing dice.

Curious, I shift back and watch. A small pouch lies open at his side. The contents are scooped up in both hands. He brings them to his mouth and he bows his head. I hear the soft trace of a whisper as he presses his forehead to both. He remains like this for a moment before breaking both cupped palms over the rug. Small tiles fall and scatter. The figure sits very still, eyes closed in concentration. Slowly, he reaches forth. His hesitant fingers hover over the pile and circle round and round. There's no pattern to the way he picks up several pieces. It's all quite random from where I stand.

Whenever he retrieves a tile, he places it before him. He creates a small row before pausing. He stops his searching, choosing to take the forefinger of his left hand to trace over the top of each current token. He takes great care with each one.

It's a strange ritual, whatever he's doing. I'm assuming its Feroxi by nature. The stranger bears the look of an Eastern countryman. The whole process isn't anything I've seen or heard of.

"You can come closer if you wish, friend. I don't mind."

His sudden vocalization startles me. I'm not even sure he's speaking to me at first. I gesture to myself and warble pathetically. "Uh."

"Yes, you," he smiles while shifting his three pieces into a new formation. "Don't be shy."

I take a few steps forward, fingers knotting up against my sleeves in shame. "I didn't mean to stare."

"You are Ylissean," he comments almost in question. He tilts his head as if to ponder this, then rubs his thumb against the second token. "Yes, you are. No doubt this would be strange to you. It's barely a novelty among the Feroxi themselves. Seeing this beyond the Northern hills would be more for cheap tricks."

I stop just short of him. The excess pile is small. Judging by that and what he has before him, there's at least twenty of these shards. Maybe more.

"It's an old tradition," he remarks proudly. The young man holds it up against the fire for me to see better.

They're made of a dark stone. The ones before him are scratched deep with gouges painted white against the surface. The lines are jagged and each form a different symbol. I've seen these inscribed among the heraldry of the oldest houses from Feroxi lands. That's the ancient language they once had before adopting the modern languages.

"They're runes," I identify out loud.

"Indeed. Old and forgotten except for a few remaining uses. One of which has peaked your curiosity if the sensation of being watched has proven right."

He turns his face to me as if waiting for an answer. I find myself shrugging in guilt, the apology on my lips hanging for a brief moment as I realize he has yet to open his eyes. "It's not what I expected to see this late at night. A Feroxi throwing stones by the fireside? That just screams interesting."

"You have an enlightened mind then, my friend. I could say less of my cohorts. While my healing abilities prove useful in their eyes, the art of a Skuld remains less so. Even our most superstitious western kinsmen cast a wary eye on it."

"A Skuld?" I mimic. "Is that your profession?"

"Ideally. But my captain would declare it just a fancy name for a cleric. While medicinal aid is one aspect of my talents, that is what he seems most interested in. A shame. He would benefit from the occasional bout of wisdom."

The stranger picks up the last rune he grabbed. He continues to feel for the divots and then sets it down again. "Ah, but where are my manners? Here we chat and I have yet to do a proper introduction."

His friendliness catches me off guard. I wasn't expecting this warm a welcome from a complete unknown. Nevertheless, his youthful tone is pleasing to the ear.

"A hearty late night greeting to you, fellow insomniac. My name is Asche. My glorious war history can be summed up as two weeks in one of the Eastern Khan's ranger units before becoming drafted into her main regiment. I am the healer and occasional chef of my squad if they can remember my rotation shift."

Wow, that's rather forthcoming. The guy doesn't have much of a filter, does he? I guess he's just one of those real friendly people. An open book to the world. Reminds me of a few of the Shepherds. Too nice for their own good sometimes.

I quickly shut my hanging jaw and respond. "I'm Robin, tactician to the Shepherds."

A second after responding I internally kick myself. I have no idea who this guy is and I just blathered out my identity. I can't be suspicious about everyone but chatting up a stranger in the middle of the night isn't the same as doing so in the day with all my comrades around.

Regardless, Asche seems more surprised than intrigued or devious. His eyebrows raise high under his bangs. "A Shepherd you say? I have heard of Ylisse's fabled unit but I never imagined meeting one of their ilk. I consider this a great honor to meet such an illustrious warrior."

My laugh is strangled by my own embarrassment as I run a hand nervously through the back of my hair. "That's a bit of an overstatement. The Shepherds are a relatively normal bunch. We just happen to hit a little harder than your average fighter."

"As most legends tend to. Still, though you may not be giants, you are a gifted bunch. Conversing with an elite guard member such as yourself is a rather exciting turn of events. I had not expected this when performing my reading tonight. Even the stones have kept this a secret."

I'm not sure I get what he means by that. "You're talking to your stones?"

"No, not quite. I'm, er-" Asche stops and regards the object in his hand with waning interest. It twists anxiously between his twitching fingers. "This is always bothersome to try and explain."

I give him a minute. His expression grows guarded and his explanation watery. "These are a special set of runes. I am using them to try and chart the course of our next battle."

I rest on my knees and bend over the mountain of leftover stones. To me, the mat is nothing more than a sewn cloth with some designing around the edges. This is no chart. "Not the most convincing way to plot out strategies."

"I am not strategizing Robin. These are arcane implements used to trace the probabilities of time." I wouldn't call the noise he makes a chuckle. More like a deflated sound of resignation. "I am attempting to read the future."

That's...not what I was expecting. At all, actually.

See, divination isn't that common a thing. In fact, it's extremely rare. Nonexistent rare. Miriel's mentioned that texts uncovered by scholars from long ago have described the ancients using it regularly. Back then in the age of myth, dragons and early humans were described doing legendary feats. Hence the myth part. Apparently we've lost a lot that ability. A lot of old spells and rituals were lost in the Schism. The Khadein Academy, named after the former country of its inhabited, saved what it could. Beyond that, everything else lies in ruins and the dust of the dead. Anyone typically claiming to be a fortune reader is usually regarded with wariness. It's more likely you've been approached by a shyster than and actual mage.

Miriel has some books theorizing that there is a way dark magic can allow an especially adept individual to divine the future. Asche doesn't seem to be the sort to take up the school and the Feroxi as a whole tend to abhor the notion of dark magic. It's unnatural to them.

Asche doesn't feel like the dark mages I encountered at Ylisstol. Then again, he doesn't feel like anything I've encountered before. He's got the light hum of energy around him, but he's a lot brighter than other practitioners. More like a cleric. But it's like he's wrapped in the mountain air of the lands he hails from. Clean and pure. No healer I know gives off an aura like that.

Could be he's just a young kid trying to explore fortunetelling from books he found. Sumia's like that with her fortunetelling flowers. It seems mystical and intriguing. It doesn't harm anyone unless you're actually trying to make a profit from it. Then the guards might have a word with you for false advertising.

But I really can't say whether I can give a solid opinion on his activity. I don't know anything about what a Skuld is so maybe this is a thing they do. Maybe not. I suppose it isn't my business to decide what he is or isn't able to do. I'm working with the time traveling child of my captain in an attempt to prevent ancient evils from destroying the world. I have no right to judge.

That'd be pretty neat if it was true though. Scratch that, invaluable! My guess is that if he was the real deal, he wouldn't be sitting here in the dark wasting his time. Flavia would have him right at the top of her council for political reasons. No harm in humoring him though.

I flick between Asche and the runes. I'm still interested overall. This is all new to me. Kellam and Lon'qu have offered up some spare details about Feroxi life based on who they know but I'm largely unlearned to their lifestyle.

"So what are you looking for?" I ask. My curiosity overcomes logic and makes it quite obvious that a part of me is hopeful he's legit at what he does.

Asche is taken off guard by my statement. The stone in his hand slips through his fingers and clatters against another pieces. "Pardon?"

I kneel down the rest of the way and lean forward on both arms to get a better look at the runes. It's hard to identify the stone he's used in the dark. The poor lighting obscures the natural coloring. "I was wondering what you were divining for."

He moves his rune back in place. There's no attempt to hide his surprise at my actions. "Not the reaction I usually receive. You'll have to forgive my surprise."

"I've been through enough to know by now I should keep an open mind."

"One I will thank you for. Many prefer to share their thoughts in an opposite fashion." Asche presses his palm atop the stack of pieces and lets his fingers sink between them. "With our impending battle, I had sought to question the best role for myself. Am I to expect injuries? Death? I have been here for some time attempting to do so. There is no better way to read one's potential than in the face of the rawest element of nature itself."

He adjusts a nonexistent gaze to the fire's heat. "The ancestors would once beseech the fire for the knowledge it knew as its flames burned away impurities and produced naught but the truth. The great Father sold one eye to the all knowing flames in exchange for the ability the discern the brightest of our paths. He communed best when absorbed in its embrace."

"Interesting. I've never heard of fire being considered that way before."

Asche continues to sift through the runes. His excitement intertwines with his open desire to communicate with me his thoughts. "Quite different from your tales of Naga I bet. I believe her flames are more indicative of redemption and bodily purity than our definition. Poetic nonetheless."

"I really wouldn't know," I reply weakly. This Grima business hasn't left a good taste in my mouth when it comes to gods and the like. My opinion on a lot of things has dimmed in that domain. "I didn't grow up with her teachings."

There's a look of shock that passes quickly as he digs through the pile. He pulls up another between his forefinger and thumb. "Ah. My apologies for assuming otherwise. You are of Grima's ilk-"

I nearly fall over in shock from the statement. Luckily he has yet to finish speaking and I'm saved from making a stupid remark.

"Or from Valm's twin aspects? You don't have sound of the southern isle's pantheon, but I could be wrong."

Gods, that scared me. He's just making a guess. Shocked me to the bone. I hope I'm not obvious in the way I'm trying not to heave in relief. "J-just call me a generalist."

"No need to be nervous," Asche reassures me. The rune in his hand goes to the pile before him. I don't know what the pattern is saying to him but he's intrigued with it. "There's no shame in that. To each her own path, I say. I may honor the ancestors but I will light my candle for Naga's wisdom as well. A respect to both my heritages."

I fall backward on my behind and rest on palms. I chew on the inside of my mouth, feeling lost for words. "Sorry. Theology and gods aren't really something I like talking about. At all."

"Fair enough," he replies kindly. I notice that everything Asche does is with this assured yet gentle motion. Reminds me of someone.

"So are you still doing your reading?" I inquire. I really want to snatch up a rune for a closer look but I feel like doing so would be wrong. I'll just remain respectful and keep by grabby hands to myself.

"I am. A final piece is all I need but I've yet to find a particular one that resonates-"

He lights up, hand freezing just over a stray stone sitting outside the group. "Never mind!" he concludes cheerfully. The five pieces come together to finish his pattern. Asche looks pretty pleased to finally have all he needs, which is a lot given he lacks a certain ability to express himself. Though he speaks, I notice that he's isn't exactly looking into my face but rather off to the side. He has yet to crack an eye open and his movements rely heavily on his own sense of touch with the ground. While I'm not rude enough to ask out loud, I'm fairly convinced that he may be blind.

I mentally shake myself and switch topics. "So here's a question then. Can you, uh, do readings for other people if they wanted?"

"You are curious?" His roving hands plays over the pattern in a specific order. Starting from the bottom and moving to each in succession. He takes great care to feel each etching. Sometimes he moves back and forth between two. "I would happily do so if I actually stumbled upon someone willing to believe. As I said before, a Skuld is not a common sight nowadays. If someone does happen upon the knowledge of my profession, I'm usually greeted with suspicion toward my craft."

"But," he pauses, "tonight would not be ideal for such a request should a specific individual be asking in a roundabout way."

Whoops, looks like I've been discovered. Not like I was really hiding my intentions.

"It takes energy to do this. I'm barely having luck as it is on my time, stubborn as they are to come to me today. Another look would be too taxing to try."

Asche sounds utterly convinced he's actually able to see into the future. If he's doing it now, I can't tell. He doesn't feel any different than before. His conviction is so firm. He's either a great liar, really delusional about his talents, or actually doing something. I can't decide which.

"I hope that doesn't lessen your desire for company. I'm rather enjoying the companionship of the moment and would hate to see it end prematurely.

Asche has to be the most genial kid I've ever met. He's very trusting. Courteous too.

"You sure me being here isn't going to throw off your concentration."

"It's hardly distracting. Trust me. "

"Alright," I state as I get comfortable again. The fire burns hot against my back and I cast a darkness over the rug before me. "So what is a Skuld if you don't mind me inquiring."

"A good question. In ancient times, they are what your clerics of Naga would be. Figureheads of a village well versed in lore and wisdom. They were the keepers of tradition and oversaw the rites of passage when a mortal reached a milestone in the journey of life. A very respected individual who once held great sway over the village elder. The Old Ones chose them to guide the rest of their children through times of trouble and times of peace." There's a flash of regret on his calm, young features. "Times have changed and cultures shift however. The emergence of Naga's influence and the mixture of our own populace have birthed new ideals. The old ways are not as sought after as they once were."

"So why pursue it yourself? A desire to preserve the old?"

He gives me a quiet chuckle and turns his face to the stars. "Not quite. The calling finds you, so to speak. It requires a bit of a gift to handle. I was simply lucky enough to be raised in the mountains where tradition still has strong roots."

"We are healers, thinkers, and dreamers," he continues. "The children come to us to speak to the ancestors and to read the path they currently walk. It's an old Feroxi role far more solitary position than that of a mage."

Asche cranes his head back down and around to me. For the first time, we're properly face to face.

"You have the air of a student of the arcane about you. It's strong and open. You must have a good teacher. Still, I would suspect your teachings define the understanding of your craft through base facts and a theoretical attempt to categorize the world."

"Sounds accurate."

He nods. "That is a product of the human desire to control. We seek to understand and explain all that is foreign to us instead of simply being. A Skuld is a magic user but we are less about questioning and molding the universe. More about the acceptance of one's role and the guidance gleaned from the natural course of things."

"And what about this so called ability to see the future? You have to admit, that's a pretty remarkable thing to claim. Even the strongest mages haven't unlocked the secrets of time," I point out. It's not to be rude. It's fact.

Unless you're a god, that is.

Asche's face wrinkles in worry for a minute. He presses extra hard on the rune he lingers on with his finger. It dips into the cloth and he murmurs something under his breath. Quick as it came, he's back to normal.

"Sorry. Your question was- Right! The future. I suppose it is incorrect to claim we read the future. To demand an answer from the natural order is both impossible and immoral. I do not force magic from its place to do my bidding. I follow its strongest course. By this, I mean a Skuld can read the strongest, most probable path based on that which has influenced it both in the past and present. Avoidable if tread carefully."

"It's more a glorified best guess than a for sure thing. The most likely path to follow?" I venture out.

"Yes. It is the most likely probability. But remember, it can alter itself. Should we change plans, it could shake us free to another course"

I narrow my eyes, fingers tapping against the grass in suspicion. "What's the catch? There has to be some sort of requirement that goes along with such an alleged power."

Asche grows grim. "In payment for such a feat," his voice dips. It's stony and cold as ice, "I require your soul."

I stare at him and let out a laugh. It dies on my lips when I realize he has yet to join me. I can feel a cold sweat start to form in the deafening silence.

"T-that's real funny?"

His expressionless void cracks open into mirthful laughter. Asche takes a slap at his knee in good humor. "Of course I jest! What would I need a human soul for?"

A muscle in my jaw twitches from how tight I have it clamped shut. I'm still rigid with horror.

"I assure you, my friend. I require nothing at all. My profession is one of charity, not demand. Though I will not say no to a generous donation. I do seem to divine better with a full stomach."

"Ha, ha. You'd be right about that," I trail off weakly.

"I apologize for disturbing you. My sense of humor is not in top form according to some folk. I can hear the alarm in your voice."

"You think? The look on my face sure should have told you otherwise. I must be white as a sheet," I add. My pulse jumps after I utter those words. Not because of fear but because of what I just said.

Oh CRAP! I did not just say that!

"Um."

He couldn't see my face because he probably can't. Aren't I an insensitive chump.

"I didn't mean that like, er..."

"I'm shocked it took so long for this to come up. Most would bring up my obvious disability right away. Morbid curiosity I assume," Asche remarks casually. He doesn't seem bothered at all.

"I'm not one for rude habits on first introductions." I think back on all the courtiers I've badmouthed and smugly swell with pride. "Almost all the time."

I beat that down and address him as sincerely as I can. "It's not really my place to ask something I know nothing of."

"That will put your decency over about half of the Feroxi army, sadly," he muses with resignation. He brushes the back of his hand over his bangs to push them away. "That and my own sister."

"You have a family here too?"

His sibling adulation is written all over as he reminisces over memories. "Not quite. Signý has her own mission, I'm afraid. It's taken her far from home. I worry for her, but some matters are more important than the present."

"What's more important than a war?"

Asche pushes up the sagging sleeve of his coat and settles back into his previous routine. His tone is more firm than before as he warns me. "That, unfortunately, is something personal."

I raise my palm. "My fault. Say no more."

"Very good then."

The conversation quickly takes a turn back to what it was before. Asche entertains my questions about the Eastern Feroxi lands. The environment is far different than the Western half. A divide of people thanks to weather and terrain. They're a hardier bunch and more reliant on hunting and fishing. The woods are filled with old ruins preserved by time. Beasts extinct elsewhere thrive under the mountain's gaze. If it didn't seem so bloody cold, I would like to visit it sometime. Ricken would probably lose his tiny mind in an attempt to explore the historical decay littering it.

For all his geniality, Asche is surprisingly sparse about details concerning himself. Aside from what he does and the fact he has a sister, there's not much left to tie to him. I couldn't tell you where he lives or what his age is. Again, not my place to ask.

Before I know it, the moon overhead has shifted by a good hour and a half. My muscles have grown sluggish and my mind even more. Sleep is threatening to take over.

I find my exit during a brief lull in our conversation. For extra emphasis, I let out a loud yawn. "Wow, time went by."

"Mm." The whole time we've talked, he's continued to hem and haw over the same five runes. I wonder if he's learned anything at all.

Knowing we have a long march ahead, I force myself to wobble to my feet. "I hate to end this but I'm really feeling the weight of today's walk. I should probably head in for the night."

My arms circle round and I try to catch my balance upon rising to my feet. My knees are screaming with pins and needles after having knelt so long in one spot. For once I'm glad he can't see cause my flailing makes me look like a drunk flamingo.

"You do seem more at ease," he answers as I shake out my burning leg. "Earlier you had the feeling of one very conflicted."

"Still am," I add, "but at least I'm more restful."

"That's good."

I pull my sleeves together to warm up my hands and dip my head in appreciation. "Thanks for letting me bum around Asche. It was a real pleasure."

"I can always appreciate a good visit, Robin. It was a pleasant surprise. I learned a lot."

"Same. With the Feroxi now our allies, it's good to know more about them."

The little question wiggling around in the back of my brain for the past twenty minutes slips forward. I probably shouldn't say anything but my earlier read has peaked my desires. I huddle up against the night air, burrowing into my coat.

"Can I ask something before I go?"

Asche pulls his attention away from his work. "Yes?"

My pointer fingers tap together rapidly and I try not to talk as fast as my heart is thumping. "In all your readings, have you ever encountered a path that seemed like it couldn't budge no matter what you did. Like, you thought of every way to work around it but all outcomes seemed to lead to the same thing?"

Asche sits up straight and brings a hand to rest under his chin. He sways lightly in thought. "Not exactly, though I have not been fluent in reading for so many years that I could claim such a thing. My youth betrays me there."

I press him harder, my eagerness betraying me in the rising pitch of my speech. "Hypothetically though. Nothing is completely set in stone. You can avoid any fate if you try hard enough?"

If he could, I feel as though he'd be gazing deeply into the fire for an answer. "It's hard to say Robin. Time has many layers and we must consider all aspects of it. Influences from the past and actions of the present play a hand in things. Some determinants can be far reaching and beyond the personal sphere. If you are not too close to the point of no return, one can still escape a certain destiny."

"That sounds complicated."

"Hence why an answer I seek can take so long. Many just assume I can whisk their future from thin air. They lack the patience and consider my efforts evidence of falsehoods as opposed to effort." He rotates a wrist as if displaying the whole landscape to me. "If there is one thing I can agree with among mages, it is that the forces of our world are far greater than us. We cannot comprehend something that blends to another plane. It takes great effort to discern their mysteries. The bigger the question, the greater the effort."

That's not a no.

Honestly, I couldn't be more content with the answer. I'll take that over anything else. The fact that there may even be a sliver of hope for us is exactly what I wanted.

"What you just said is going to help ease a friend of mine greatly."

"As is my job," he confirms happily.

Our good-bye follows shortly after. The meeting was unintentional but a much needed blessing in disguise. I could almost pray to Naga in thanks for this lucky meeting. I still can't say whether the kid is just a tad crazy or has some crazy superpower. If it's the latter, I'll probably be seeing him again. There's no way his talent can go unnoticed if he starts predicting how to win. I make sure to let him know I'd be happy to talk again. We leave with a friendly parting from him declaring he'll more likely find me before I'll find him again.

Like I said, maybe he's a little crazy. Nice though.

Whatever he finds tonight in those little stones, I hope it's good.

---

Author Notes: Guys and gals, don't get involved with time and space mechanics. They'll destroy your brain. Now I know why my physics teacher only briefly brushed up on the aspects of it. Ugh. I sincerely hope I haven't missed any plot holes. If anyone is curious, Asche is using Germanic rune magic. Specifically the Elder Futhark variation for inspiration. Like I said before, my Regna Ferox is based on Germanic and Norse influences mixed with their own unique tastes. He's actually a unique blend himself given his mixed Ylissean and Feroxi heritage. You know, because of who his parents are. Wink wink. Robin may think this was all a coincidence but it was definitely planned.

And hey, lots of Fire Emblem news lately! Smash Brothers is getting more DLC and I heard SMTxFE came out last month in Japan. Less than two months to Fates for us stateside! My media blackout is almost over! I'm going into this immensely blind. I haven't been on the front page here in some time with all the fanfics streaming from FE14. I'm dying for some new stories. The wait is almost over! Anyone decide who to side with yet? I'm starting to think I'll do Hoshido just because I like hoarding supports and the only way to do that on Nohr is to wait for the DLC to spam over and over.

---

Review Responses -

Raiden312 – Hey, if you want invisible Risen in your story, go for it! I'm not claiming any ownership over anything so feel free to have your own. The invisibility is due to magic and I have notes somewhere I can't find right now that goes into it. It's sort of like a cloaking effect best described as what you see in the Predator movies. Not a perfect camouflage but easy to miss if not standing still and focusing hard.

Victory3114 – Thank you. The old brain case is doing much better.

Poor Lucina indeed. Whatever it is, she's not digging it. There's plenty to assume so you never know. I don't see why such a thing won't happen. Katarina is Other Robin's ancestor after all. Why not learn tactics from your supposed great-grandmother? And I agree, there should be more Katarina in fics. I need my Chris/Katarina fix sometimes. I'll have to check out the story though! Thanks for the recommendation. I've needed new reading material.

Yep, this is Apotheosis Anna. All tremble is fear. She's going to be the resident enigma and I will enjoy exploring her chaotic neutral tendencies. I vaguely recall Angela as I only read the first two books. She was a quirky thing and I liked her. Considering her own strangeness in that world's environment, comparing her to Anna is a pretty good one.

Animeseris – Ha, I really pushed this chapter out. After being away for so long, I got impatient myself!

Ginette could be the mother as much as any of the others. She's an option after all! Who knows? The mystery deepens! The conspiracy deepens! Some of the reviewers like yourself are reading off others and working out the shared details. It's rather exciting to see. From the first chapter until now, you've all made great progress. I'm so proud :') As for Laurent, we do need to get back to him again. We need his genius! I'll try to remedy that soon! I hope your finals went well!

3liManning - Thanks! I'm far better now, thankfully.

Yep this is Apotheosis Anna. So basically, someone is going to have a bad day. Lots of questions though, yeah? I can answer some. Yes, this is a second general who can control Risen to an extent. You've already met them in a past chapter. Tiki was also mentioned once by the twins. The rest is for you all to figure out.

What you stated seems to be what's implied. One died and the other saved in a whole different fashion. Like I mentioned to someone else, there was a key factor missing in the boss fight with Garrick. There was no hostage and the village maiden sprite was said victim. Hmm. Ginette looks just like she did in the game, albeit with a deeper tan along the lines of Vaike.

timewastin – Thanks, glad to be back! You are correct, I was concussed! First time in my life I had an injury and it was miserable. Glad it's over!

I don't think anyone has a choice in accepting Anna's involvement. She'd find a way to force you into an alliance. Probably buy out your soul somehow. Ha ha, I'm actually glad some people find her rubbing them the wrong way. She's suppose to that way. A whole different stock from the rest of her family. The whole point of the story is experiencing it in a different way and that includes some of the characters. Making a deal with her is sort of like making one with the devil unless it's that one time she's feeling charitable. Luckily Donnel is here. He may keep her in check. Maybe.

ArcherShirou – What she's discovered shocked her pretty bad. I'll just say that it's related to something important and she's trying to process the initial effects of it first. If she brings it up, it will only be if she's comfortable.

Muggzy – Actually, no, we haven't heard from Nowi. Uh oh?

And thank you! It's a tricky thing with altering plot lines but I do enjoy it. I try my utter best with Emmeryn because she's a fascinating character. Only the best! Anyway, glad you're enjoying story!

Rationalism – Somebody made the dragon cannon. Could be Tiki, could be someone else. Regardless, someone was sacrificed for it.

Lucina initially rejected Anna's offer based on past interactions with other sisters. She's implied in past chapters an extreme dislike of them thanks to their sneaky ways and profit-hungry attitudes. As far as she knew, this Anna was no different than any of her sisters. She just assumed another avaricious merchant type was here to take advantage of the situation like the rest of her family. She had no idea 'this' Anna was coming armed and ready. Most of Anna's recent information came from her observance of the past battle anyway so anything relevant was newly acquired. Given that Lucina ran off in Anna's direction at the end, whatever deals she could make our now being reconsidered.

When the Moon Met the Sun – Look, even more of our favorite time traveling princess! Hopefully this chapter highlighted why she has her inhibitions. It is frustrating, I know. Lucina's been extremely hurt by Other Robin's treachery and has been alone for a very long time in her burden. As seen here, this is the first time in a loooong while she's had someone in her same position to rely on. And that person is wearing the same face as the one that hurt her. Her inhibitions are deep rooted and she carries her secrets for a number of reasons. Recent actions are causing her to reconsider everything. Between Marth's words, Robin's fight in Ylisstol, and Chrom's growing trust in her, Lucina is seeing our tactician as a second chance she never thought possible. Now the question is whether the princess can continue to trust herself in being the partner Robin wants her to be.

Your clue hunting seems to add some weight to your observations. The lines seem rather intentional given your lines of logic. Maybe it will prove right!

Erika Elencia – Thank you! I've had a lot of requests to see them again so I'll just say maybe ;) There are ways to make it work. We'll see if I'm feeling merciful. Mwahaha.

NODAHE – Hey, thank you! I'll keep 'em coming as fast as I can. Chapter updates are a big thing on my New Year's Resolution list. I hope to maintain a better speed this year.

The Night Gaunt – I suppose one can say Anna is simply Anna. She's a different sort bound by her own rules. Being from the Outrealms, that's to be expected. So actually saying she's a bit Lovecraftian isn't that far a reference. Outer dimensional being who potentially holds great powers? Maybe, just maybe.

hotpoteito – Looks like your wish came true! The letter was definitely the next thing that had to get done. At least we all know a little more about what we're up against.

Actually, you're close with the scam. More like the late 1800s. Anna's buying a wagon and will sell it all thrift style to ignorant farmers on the frontier. Imagine all those seedy merchants selling snake oil and mystery elixirs from the top of their carts. That's exactly what she's doing.

King Keith – Ha, that's a good point. They do share quite a bit in common. Yeah, not so much the dethroning thing. But there's other aspects that parallel each other. They can brood and be precious little prickly pears together.

Yep, that's Apotheosis Anna, and she is a wild card, isn't she? She's basically the chaos of the universe personified if Lucina is the order. They are two sides of conflict but are both necessary for the world to function.

The Brave Gallade – Thanks! It's a massive undertaking with lots of planning involved but it's certainly been worth it! I don't think I've had this much fun with a project before just because there's so much to explore.

I can definitely throw in some pizza peeler action. I have just the scene to do it with too! There's an upcoming battle scene I have planned that I can throw it into. It beats my previous idea! Thanks for the suggestion.

3liManning – Thanks again for that super in-depth review. You have earned my official stamp of approval for awesomeness! It's just exciting as an author to see the details being analyzed and appreciated that much. I really hope you see one of your ideas come true someday! You just never know!

Arthogawa – Sorry, didn't mean to cause concern there. I'm working faster on the next couple chapters to make up for the leave.

Katarina did come from the twins' father. As for why, that's his hidden agenda. Anna is definitely a form of crazy. In the theme of the story, she's a deviation from the standard plot. An familiar entity but one who follows a new set of rules and morals. She's a creature to be cautious around because one minute you could be laughing and the next screaming. I'm not sure if I should be pitying what I've done to Donnel. But he seems like the kind who can let things roll of him. He'll probably come out okay. Probably.

Nice theorizing. You're right. The bits are slowly emerging across the board. It's just a matter of time before the whole thing breaks down. Thanks for updating, as usual!

CrystalHeart27 – Ha ha! Thanks. That actually means a lot. All I'd like to do is keep polishing my writing skills so it never hurts to hear they're still going strong. Robin's inner circle is an endearing bunch, aren't they? Robin and Papa Risen will probably have one of the most unique relationships, I'll definitely say that. The identity will come out someday, just hang in there! For how long this will be running still? Hm. Uh, maybe another year at minimum? I've realized I am a wordy author and chapters run long and detailed. At my current rate, I can probably get through Plegia and into the two year time skip if readers want me to start speeding up plot details. I hope that's not too long for you all!

Once I dethrone both Naga and Grima I will ascend to godhood and happily name you as the first priestess of Prose. You can get first dibs on which genre you would like to patronize.

J053D4N13L35C083D0 – Thanks, that was the intent actually. A fairly realistic take on the everyday man attempting to survive an overly romanticized position. Finding my ability to write humorous scenes is actually a bonus. Never knew I had it in me. It's been a great journey so far and I hope everything up until the end remains just as satisfying as the beginning. Thanks for reading!

Caellach Tiger Eye – Many of FE13's flaws can probably be attributed to the fact that it was originally the last one. It was a final big hurrah and they probably did just what you thought. One last way to tie it all together with a big bow and a throwback to where the series began. Does that mean it excuses things? No. But I can't hold it against the game. It's the most fun I've had in a long time and renewed my love of the series as a whole. I understand about the setting stagnation and won't blame you for it. Sometimes it will bother me, other times I won't even question it.

Ah, frick. No, you're right with the time line. I went back and checked. The Schism was 1,000 years, not 2,000 years past. Not that is hurts the plot anyway, but I did probably write that somewhere wrong. I'll fix that. Myself? I've theorized that Grima's war was worse than Medeus' war which is why any development in between Marth's reign, the first Exalt, and Ylisse isolation are to blame. I'll get more into that later. I think too much about this junk...On the matter with the children, thanks for bringing up the clarity issue. I'll reread what I have and fix it accordingly. A little rewording for the sake of a more clear meaning is definitely needed if that's the case. Sorry about that. Thankfully I have you readers to tell me these things.

Yep, shipping is shipping. Honestly, it's just the one thing I'm going to have fun with here. Straight up, this story is designed for exploration and alternative choices. If I find something intriguing, I'm just going to roll with it. Again, I mean no offense to anyone. Cycle is a weird story. Weird stuff happens. But as you say, as long as nothing is offensive to the actual characters, I'm at peace with that. Do not hesitate at all to tell me if something does feel off though. Romance is one of my least explored genres. I trust ya'll to push me on track when my inexperience dribbles in.

Given everyone recent theories, I am dying to respond. I've planned many things from the start. You can't have a story based around consequence and reaction without good planning. I will confirm Robin's good deed will not result Tomas becoming some sort of Walhart. Grima's little hell spawn fill that spot just fine.

Straight up, I suck at pacing. The long pauses between chapters makes it worse. A goal for this year is to fix it. You are right, these chapters are a bridge to the march on Plegia. I have one between major events to wrap up important things I haven't had time to integrate. With so many characters and things I want to write, picking and choosing what I can do is a real biznitch if you pardon my slang. After the emotional high of chapters 34 and 35, the next few are going to seem so much more tame. Probably shot myself in the foot there. ANYWAY, point is, I hear what you're saying and understand. I've hit some of the true challenges of an author with a plot of grand scope like this and am trying to adjust. I don't have the magnificence of George R. R. Martin yet. I'll get the hang of it eventually! I suppose all I can ask for is patience and the continued feedback from the readers. Just keep nudging while I reorganize some events. Really, the advice is invaluable.

FicReader – There's a lot of strange things that happen in the bakery. The only thing that beats what's happened to me there is when I use to run the entrance booth at a children's indoor playground and ball pit. Imagine the tubes and tunnels McDonalds and Chuck E. Cheese have and then amplify it by two hundred percent. Oh, there are some stories there.

Yep, chapter 35 was Robin and Chrom's big bonding moment. First and foremost is always going to be the bond they share as individuals. Before anything else happened, I had to establish the key moment they came together and began the partnership the game conveyed. They've gone from strangers, to acquaintances, to comrades. He's her mentor and captain while she's become his confidant and sense of freedom from worldly pressures. The sense of physical attraction is already there based on Robin's own comments and Chrom's reaction to her on the roof in Chapter 15. Now it's just a matter of blending it with their already established admiration for each other. Needles to say, I'm frightened to death over this :) And thank you. Backgrounds have been a challenge in the past and I've been aiming to improve. I'm doing better I see. Score.

Your prediction is on par with a few others. Village maiden is as much an option as any Shepherd so it's unfair to forget her. I've just given her more life and personality. She has all the potential to be something. Who knows?