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...

51. Interlude 4

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

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Interlude

I hate this place. It stinks of death and rotten vegetables. I'd rather be anywhere but here, yet Letum ordered it. It was expected, I guess. In monitoring the Ylisseans, Letum would send regular summons to Marc, Father, and I so we could bring back Master Grima's status alongside any plans we could steal from the enemy forces.

The meetings are always in Dolhr Legata. The first time arriving wasn't so bad. I was curious about the city itself, once the heart of the organized dragon empire in the ancient era. When I soared over the city, I expected a wondrous scene like I had read in my books! Tall towers and sprawling roads that were homage to our people's greatness!

But, it wasn't like that at all.

Humans really do destroy everything they touch. If Plegia's capital was once a glorious city of dragons, it wasn't anymore. Dust and empty bones decorated the three major roads entering the city districts, cracked and split from the stone paths they once were. Tall walls that once offered defenses comparable to Ylisstol have withered down to nothing but a patchwork skeleton, people moving in and out like maggots from the body they feed on. That's what Letum calls humans, maggots that feast on the world.

The three major districts once were devoted to habitation, markets, and artisans. If there was a difference between them, there isn't much there now. All I see are really crummy houses built on even crummier ones! It's like a bunch of crates being stacked on each other all at once, crushing the rotten boards beneath into a foundation of decay. There's a river that runs through the city. I first thought to stop and drink from it, but one smell of it made my stomach feel woozy. I figured I would take my chances at the castle instead.

The only thing resembling the former glory of this kingdom is the palace itself. Though colors have faded and flags frayed over time, it still stands large against the sun. It's not very inspiring though. More like creepy! I always feel like someone is watching me. Sometimes I swear I hear voices when no one is there. It takes haunted castle to a whole new level. Marc really likes that stuff, but I don't get it.

I shiver a little, taking my eyes away from an old painting next to me. The human woman on it is long dead. Her skeletal face looks down on me over a pointed nose, her eyes too small for her head. Her black, bug-like eyes seem to swallow me up and I force myself to look away. Goosebumps rise up my arms, and I brush my skin to try and build some warmth back into them.

It's hard since the room is extra drafty and damp. It's a big meeting room with no windows and only wall torches to light the center space. Three long tables made of dark marble and equally dark stone chairs frame the three corners of the room. The chairs uncomfortable to sit in and worse to look at. The winged creatures that perch on each one, which Algidus call gargoyles, look down at me with crazy eyes and a big old tongue licking its teeth like it wants to eat me. Well, too bad! I'll crunch your face into tiny pebbles with my jaw if you even try!

I wouldn't say the humans in this room are any better. I would trade anything to be back with Marc and Father at Ironhold Keep, but I'm the only one who can fly to Plegia's capital and back again. So, it falls to me to be the messenger.

Letum, Tantibus, and Algidus are here too. They all have hoods and masks on to hide their true nature. They've integrated themselves into the Grimleal, standing at the forefront with all the honors the head priests have. They were awarded the privilege after our alliance was made with the head priest, Validar. He holds us generals in high esteem and has a lot of confidence in our work.

Across from us, Plegia's king sits with his top soldiers. Usually I just have to give a status report to Letum before I can leave, but I needed to stay for this. Algidus let me follow her after I begged. See, I have to learn about Plegia's next moves if Marc, Father, and I are going to respond properly! We need information and so will Mother now that she's in unfamiliar lands.

There has been a lot of information going about between everyone all day. Plenty of scouting reports and proposed plans, though most of them were stupid. I could counter them with my eyes closed. Even the other generals lack insight since the information I gave them was useless. I only provided just enough to keep Letum happy. I've kept quiet about the tunnels for now, lying about how Mother entered Ironhold through a totally fake route I made up. He bought it, for now.

I want to be excited. This is the first war meeting I've been to in a long time. I'm not to say or do anything without permission, like usual. That's fine. I need to listen anyway, even if it's been boring so far. I would think this would be at least somewhat exciting with these being the very best Plegia has to put forth, but it's the total opposite! It's just the king yelling insults at everyone, the Grimleal calming him down with thinly veiled threats, and everyone just glaring at each other! Really pointless stuff. Mother would have just killed everyone who was wasting her time and then moved on to actual business.

The human king, Gangrel, sits in the fanciest chair here. It has fluffy pillows bigger than my head. He leans his head on his hand, his long, thin legs crossed over each other at the knee. His spindly fingers tap rapidly over the gilded seat handle, moving in a flurry like spider legs. "I had thought the Grimleal to have more worth than this, High Priest. So far, your efforts have been rather...," Gangrel exhales deeply through his nose, a weary and bored sigh, "...paltry."

Validar moves forward from around his table, hands tucked together before him and hidden in his robes. His cheeks are more sunken than usual, making him look like a leathery skeleton. He steps around in a slow and deliberate way. He's stalking the king for weaknesses to use against him later. "A war is not won in a day, King Gangrel. You forget who we deal with."

"Humans? Scum? The same flesh and blood as you and I?" Gangrel barks out a quick succession of laughs, pointing at Validar before making a circular motion next to his own head. "You let your delusions of religious competition cloud your opinions. These Ylisseans are the same as any other you put to the knife."

Validar's familiar shadow is a woman who reminds me greatly of the Grimleal priest. Aversa moves about much as he does, methodical and calculating. For a human, she might be pretty. Her hair is long and white like Mother's, but it shines more. She reminds me a lot of Pravitus too, using guile and words to sneak under your skin and then take your soul for their own. "Naga is their protector, if I may remind you, my Lord," she coos, placing a hand on Gangrel's arm. It slides up slowly as she speaks, coming to rest between his neck and shoulder. "Our sworn-"

"Aversa," Gangrel starts off nicely, though I can see the false pleasantries hiding his disdain as he shakes away his shoulder. "You can say all the sweet things you want to me, but make sure it isn't stupid. Strategists should at least be somewhat intelligent. Religion has nothing to do with their power."

His rejection doesn't bother her at all. She crosses her arms in a way that pushes out her chest a little more. I don't know why she does that so often when speaking to people, but it sure gets her a lot of attention. I asked her about it the last time we worked together and she just laughed and patted my head, telling me I would get it when I was older. Well that's not fair! I'm plenty old!

"That is where you underestimate them. The loyalty to Naga is everything," she tells the king, earning a scowl.

Validar talks again, helping the point of Plegia's tactician even further. "Speak ill all you like, King. It does not change the fact an ancient enemy is the source of their morale. They fight for one name only."

Gangrel rolls his eyes so hard I think they fell back into his head. He flicks his hand through the air as if orchestrating something. "Like our own holy, sacred god. Yes, yes, I can feel righteous energy flowing right to my bowels." He sits up and lets out a large belch, wafting away the air before him. "Oh, wait, that's just indigestion from my earlier supper."

Aversa recoils slightly, her eyes fluttering as she tries to hold make her disgust. Gangrel leans over the chair and smirks at her, enjoying her displeasure.

"You are awfully glib for a man who has the enemy breaching his borders." Algidus stands partway out of her seat, her voice shearing the air in half from underneath the alabaster bird-shaped mask she wears. Her accusation is a direct shot aimed at the king. Out of all the generals, he bothers Algidus the most. Gangrel doesn't seem to mind though, accepting the challenge head on.

He sinks into the cushions, pressing his fingers together. "And whose fault it that, hm? If I recall, my part was secured." His crooked smile grows, eyes daring every last person he settles them on to counter him. "I had the men. I had the resources. I brought the western borders of that country to its filthy knees and kicked down the door of that simpering little bitch all by myself." He leans forward, resting on his knees. "And what can you say, o powerful Grimleal?"

"Complications in the plan. We cannot predict everything, my Lord." Letum joins the the topic now, calm as ever underneath his false, serpentine face. He reminds me a lot of Validar. When he comes to stand beside the Grimelal priest, I see them as one in the same. Two ambitious souls who are even-minded and capable enough to achieve big things. I don't respect any humans, but I have a small bit of awe over the power Validar commands. It's no wonder he leads other humans so effortlessly.

"Complications?" Gangrel plays up his shock. It's so hammy. That's why I find him annoying. "You were beat down by fool of a boy and his band of adolescent rangers! Tell me how that is a simple complication?"

Algidus comes to our defense again. She stands tall this time, the air dropping sharply around her. The Grimelal seated behind her shrink away, chairs squeaking as they back up. "These losses are not strictly ours to blame. We all had a hand in this war. If I recall, the loss of Ironhold does not fall on us. Your self-proclaimed professional mercenaries destroyed key mining resources. Later, they fell to such inebriation that those same children, as you claim, defeated them soundly."

"Algidus." Letum holds his arm out before her asking for silence. While she is right, upsetting the king before has made him difficult to deal with. Worse than Marc when she starts pouting. She just sulks and whines. This guy gets stubborn and then no one can work with him. It ruins everyone's day.

"These plans were infallible." Gangrel pinches his thumb and forefinger together so there is barely a space between them. "I was so close to that little queen I could have plucked a golden hair off her head." His voice careens from a low growl into a high-pitched wail of frustration, ending with his hand slamming into the back of the throne he sits in.

A man in armor to King Gangrel's left clears his throat, taking a half step forward. "If I may?"

Gangrel buries his head in one hand, issuing the solider to come forward with his other. This new man takes me by surprise. Unlike the others in the room, he seems out of place. He would look very menacing with his broad, built figure and large brown beard, except for his eyes. They look...sad. He looks like he could use a good nap. I know I could. This is as boring as it is frustrating.

"This blame we throw about is distracting us from the truth. The true issue I see is how the allied forces saw through our plans. Our men were set up in two distinct positions with separate task forces dictating their maneuvers. There had been no communications and no signs to give away either movement."

Apparently one of the other men behind him thinks that he has permission to say something too. He stops picking at the underside of his thumbnail with his carving knife, poking it in the air before him. "The General's right. There's no way my riders should have been taken off guard by the Feroxi battalion. I want to know how in Duma's great fucking balls them Feroxi saw through our ambush. The only ones who knew about that plan were the Lady Aversa and my fellow lieutenant who was handed the mission directives. That was a need-to-know basis."

"Vasto is right," the bearded man continues. "There is issue in both that and of how the Exalt was able to predict our false hostage negotiation."

"Somethin' don't smell right is all we're saying. The Ylisseans are too good for a nation that went ten years without a proper military program to bolster it." Happy to have said his piece, the Vasto fellow returns to his work, earning a few pats on the back from the other captains for voicing their concerns. The Plegian general seems to agree, accepting the words with a quiet sort of dignity I haven't seen among the other humans here. He seems too nice for this place. Mother would have sensed this as weakness right away, so he must be a great warrior to have remained in King Gangrel's employ.

Gangrel isn't put off at all by their words. He actually seems to be on their side, clapping slowly after the general finishes. "Well thank those jolly old gods someone has been paying attention. You see Validar, all I hear are losses on losses. Odd, impossible ones at that! An army of children are playing with a full deck of cards and turned the easiest win in history on us. They've now pushed us into the mountains. The only reason they aren't knocking on our doors right now is because I had General Mustafa collapse the Northern Pass so they couldn't enter."

Aversa shares a worried look across the floor with Validar, shaking her head left in right. This causes the high priest some confusion. "General Mustafa? I do not recall you appointing a new successor to this position. What happened to General Pictus?"

Gangrel answers with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Couldn't get out of the rock slide fast enough."

This causes a few of the other captains to murmur and shift. I can feel the unease as much as I could see the distress on General Mustafa's face. "He had no word nor time to escape," he utters faintly.

Gangrel freezes, his head slowly tilting to the side to address the other man. "Something amiss, General?"

"No, my liege," Mustafa answers stiffly. His head is held high, but he turns his eyes toward the windows beyond.

"Thought not. You're dismissed from speaking," Gangrel says, sprawling back into his throne in a messy display of limbs. "We're making a lot of pretty words here, but very little progress. How are we going to fix your mistakes, priest?"

I can't hold myself back anymore. I pull on Algidus' sleeve causing her to bend down. "This king is very dismissive of the Grimeleal."

"It is because he is simple, child," Algidus answers as if it were no more than an obvious truth. I don't get it.

"Simple?"

"Yes," she explains. "He cannot comprehend the magnificence before him. Humans are like any other animal and are attuned to the greater predators around them. See how the men behind him look our way and quiver?"

It's true. Even the Grimeleal behind us regard our Master's servants with the same awe they do Validar. Algidus describes it as fear and desire. The mindless seeking the instruction of the strongest to guide them since they're afraid of their own mistakes and failures.

"They can feel our power and superiority. They prostrate themselves under the airs of respect in hopes it will appease us and grant them another day's light." Algidus looks at Gangrel, but I cannot see her face from under the mask. She is cold though, a sign she's not pleased. "But even nature creates mistakes."

"Has it been hard working with this king? He's not very agreeable." The more I look at Gangrel, the more I want to bite him.

Algidus settles deep into her chair, bones cracking under her clothing. "Plegia is run with a spiritual leader, though the king remains as a face for the rabble below. Such a balance of affairs is not often possible among humans given their greedy and selfish souls, such as you see here. This king does not foster harmony, desiring all power for himself. He believes in one god only, himself."

"He doesn't believe in our master," I say, remembering the king's earlier words.

This causes Algidus to chuckle deeply in satisfaction. "And he will be the first to suffer for it should he somehow survive long enough to see our rise to prominence."

Plegia seems to be in a fragile balance, and Gangrel's actions often shift power to him and away from the Grimleal. I've heard the Grimleal talk about having him assassinated and made a martyr. This would allow Validar to be put in power, combining both branches to create a true theocracy. As the father of Mother's vessel, her human shell would allow her to inherit the land. It would put her in charge of Plegia and give her a true land to call her own, though the world already pretty much is.

Algidus signals to me that we should end our conversation as we're missing the discussions going on. Whoops, got distracted! I'm supposed to be paying attention here! Hardly anything seems to have changed though with Validar and Gangrel still arguing as before.

"Banter as you must, but when you are ready we can speak further on our plans," Validar says. He controls his emotions very well. Gangrel is an annoying human, more than any I've met before. He's like a pine needle you can't shake from your shoes, prickly and impossible to get rid of. Most others would have given into their lesser instincts and done any number of negative actions in retaliation. But Validar is calm and emotionless, just like Letum. If Validar was a dragon, the two of them would have gotten along. They're, um...what did Father used to say? It's a human expression.

Hm...

Oh, right! They're cut from the same cloth!

"Oh?" King Gangrel leans forward, feigning surprise even though he's clearly being extra sarcastic about it. "So you do have a plan. Outstanding."

"There is always a plan." The high priest says, curling one of his perfectly filed nails toward Aversa. "Always."

I shift from my slouch, alert in my chair and ears perked up. Yes, finally! This might actually have some promise! Bring on the battle plans!

Aversa circles around the throne, her fingers trailing over the grooves in the wood. "There is one fallacy in the alliance that we can exploit." When she emerges around the other side, she starts to walk back toward Validar. Her dress today is extra silky and it slides over her skin like midnight waters. A lot of the people in the room are watching her walk.

She stops before one of the captains lined up by the wall. He's staring so intently at her lips that it looks like he wants to eat her face off. Aversa places a finger at the base of his neck and lets her finger trace all the way up to the underside of his chin. She smiles at him real nice before it darkens to something wicked. She flicks her sharpened nailed across his nose and sends him falling back into the humans behind him. "That weakness is loyalty."

The king has his fingers pressed up against his nose, the tips tapping together over the bridge as he thinks about her words. He seems cautious of Aversa even though she is his tactician. I guess his intuition would be right. Most of her actions are meant to benefit the Grimleal first and him second.

"Explain," he says to her.

"The Exalt has an astounding ability to gather the trust of those around her. The people worship her very footsteps. I don't doubt they would starve themselves if she ordered it." Aversa stops short of Validar, their eyes locking briefly before she turns away. Validar watches her, his lips turning upward under his long, combed beard. He wears it loose, but oiled so thoroughly it shines like Aversa's dress. He uses the same stuff Letum does to cover up the dusty, decaying scent that follows his host body.

Aversa stops beside a table filled with maps and other things. There's a vase on it filled with cut white roses. They're very pretty, but they die so easy when cut from the ground. Aversa takes hold of one, letting the blossom on the end rest gently between her fingers. "In doing so, the Exalt has created her greatest weakness. The Ylissean populous is pompous enough to believe each and every one of their neighbors is united under one band. There is a strong feeling of national pride and camaraderie that Ylisseans share with each other. It is why they have cast out the rest of the world for so long, believing themselves the only ones worthy of Naga's light."

Aversa's thumb brushes over the petals, separating them apart further. "Who would ever be suspicious of their own neighbor being a Plegian mole?"

"This meaning...," Gangrel insists quietly, urging her on with a beckoning of his hand.

I feel a little guilty as Aversa explains since I know my reports are what provided her this information. This is technically an act of treason against Mother. Even if she is working for the wrong reasons, I'm still giving away information that could injure her cause. It leaves me so conflicted.

"We have gathered that the Exalt's personal circle and all those who lead her most important functions are part of a long history of family and friend relations. She has complete and utter trust in every last one of them. She has no reason to put up her guard around them." Aversa's fingers crush the whole of the blossom, wrinkled petals falling through her fingers. "Who wouldn't be absolutely defenseless among those they believe offer no harm."

"A fool, that's who," Gangrel sneers behind his fingers. His eyes are wild, jumping over the faces of everyone in this room until they fall on Aversa herself.

I didn't expect to hear more from him, but the man who leads Plegia's army chooses to talk again. General Mustafa doesn't sound like he believes what he's saying. "Are you proposing we plant ourselves a spy among her circle?"

Oh, a spy. Again? That's sort of lame. Repeat tactics are the mark of a beginner. It makes a strategist predictable and easy to counter. There has to be more to this. Aversa is no dummy, even for the lesser species. And if Letum and the others are in on this, there's definitely more.

Murmuring starts up from the king's side of the room. The army personnel turn to each other, leaning in with whispers and covered words they hide from earshot. The other captains push forward the man with the hard eyes and disheveled hair named Vasto. His voice is loud and angry making him a perfect mouthpiece for the others.

Vasto is unaffected by Aversa, glaring deeply at her. "You're contradicting yourself. You just said the Ylisseans pride themselves on loyalty. None of the Exalt's little bootlickers would bend to an offer from you. You'd be signing the death warrant of any messenger you send."

The others nod to themselves behind him, talking quietly. They all seem to fear being that lone messenger bearing the offer. Cowards. You should be willing to do whatever you need to for your master's sake! Carrying a direct order from your ruler should be your greatest pride!

Aversa shakes her hand free of rose petals, dropping the crushed stem on top of the table. She traces the side of her face from one side to the other. "This is not a simple ruse through bribery or charm. We aim for one using the face of a friend she's known her whole life. It is a much grander idea we pursue."

Uh-oh. I don't like the sound of that. Sounds like we're going to be using Pravitus again. I guess that's why he's not here. Boy, Marc is gonna be angry.

Validar steps forward and around Aversa. They share a subtle side-glance, one Aversa smirks just a bit to. Validar's approach has an impact on the others. Most step back in reverence with heads bowed. Others avert their eyes from fear or respect, much like their general. Only a few are unaffected and stand tall when facing the priest whose shadow seems to grow behind him as he walks. "Who we send and how is no concern you need worry about, Captain Vasto. The Grimleal will handle this affair personally."

Vasto's middle name must be stupid because he looks ready to charge forward and yell some more. I don't think he's buying Validar's speech. The only reason his head isn't on the floor is because the man named Mustafa blocks his advance with the back of his arm. One look from the general makes Vasto shut his mouth.

Gangrel scoffs openly against the idea. "You want me to trust planning and executing an integral step in our victory to you alone? And they call me the Mad King! Bravo, priest. You've outdone yourself."

Tantibus stirs for the first time since our meeting began. His spirit has been mostly absent, sitting with head hung low so the cowl covers all of his face. He only stirs now, red eyes blazing to life over the grooved lines in his featureless wood mask. Letum notices immediately, taking a seat beside the other dragon. I can hear Tantibus' shaky voice breaking between words, the tone rising and falling from his lack of control. His conscience must have just returned to report something. Algidus also takes notice but says nothing to me.

Now that I think about it, she's hasn't mentioned this strategy to me. I didn't even know we were starting to plan a counter attack. I guess this is what I miss out on in those meetings Letum and Validar have that I'm not invited to. It could be that these are merely in the planning stages with nothing else put forth. An agreed on idea but lacking any actual steps to achieve it.

In front of us, Gangrel and Validar are fighting in their weird, quiet way again. A tournament of petty insults and subtle jabs that puts Marc and Pravitus to shame. And Marc's amazing at pushing his sore spots real good!

"You are looking at this the wrong way, King Gangrel," Validar rebuffs. "The Grimleal are only doing as they always have done."

Letum pauses his conversation with Tantibus to alleviate the tension in the air. He truly hates having to babysit these humans, but he knows maintaining the peace between them is the only way to make our plans run smoother. He quickly steps up, bowing deeply before Gangrel with a convincing amount of reverence. "The Grimleal will do all the work from the shadows. It is what we do best, after all. We sway with words much as it is you who sways with power. We will concoct our plan and then execute it flawlessly to provide you the key to what you need."

Gangrel presses off the throne, leaning forward. "That being?"

"The Exalt's head," Letum finishes. It's something the king wants greatly because there's no way anyone can miss the eager glee that lights up Gangrel's eyes. It reminds me of Marc when Mother would give her a new target to pursue in battle. "In return, it is you who will lead the army at the forefront. You will bring down our army upon the confused, helpless Ylisseans and scatter them like mice back to their fields."

Gangrel's fingers dig into the throne. He's at a half-stand and he looks ready to pounce forward. "So you make the opening and I'll be the one who rakes in all the glory?"

General Mustafa is unconvinced of our plans because he steps forward without permission, carrying the worried glances and unspoken fears of his soldiers with him. "My liege, it may all sound well, but I would feel better know-"

Gangrel holds up his palm to stop Mustafa, which the general does. He bows and steps back as Gangrel rises. He fixes his crown which as started to slide down his head. Still, it doesn't sit right. The crown looks way too big for him to fill.

"There's a problem with your plan," Gangrel hisses.

All the generals and Grimleal look at him, waiting to hear what the volatile human and all his craziness has to say. Gangrel claws through the open space before him and grasps something only he seems to see. "I want the Exalt alive."

"May I remind you how unwise it is to let her live so long?" Aversa speaks with her usual confidence, but she still works around Gangrel with caution.

The king's eyes are wide, his pupils little spots. "I want her. Alive," he snarls viciously. He paces around the room challenging anyone he looks at as he talks louder and louder. "It's going to be me who ends her life."

The king looks down in his hands, fingers flexing open and close. His grin is wide, his teeth slightly crooked and gleaming in the candlelight. He's kind of twitchy, like he wants to itch his butt in public but can't no matter how badly he wants to. And, oh...I think I see a little drool hanging from the corner of his mouth while he plays out some bizarre dream in his mind. He really is the rapid dog Algidus and the others call him to be.

He crumples his hands together until they're a mish-mash of fingers and then squeezes them before him. "I am going to wring her over the edge of Executioner's Point with my own hand around her milky white, flawless neck."

Algidus steps a little in front of me and I see Aversa shift toward Validar. Everyone gets ready to react when Gangrel gets like this.

"I want her to squirm and writhe. I want to see her veins bulge and the blue rise on those rosy cheeks. I want my eyes to be the last thing that girl sees before I send her to hell with Daddy Dearest!"

His fantasy breaks apart with a strangled heave that uses the last air in his body. Gangrel has this ragged sounding breath he sucks in, doubling over at the waist. A few moments pass. My fingers grasp at Algidus' sleeve and pull the material so thin I think I might tear it. This is the worst the king has exhibited judging from everybody's faces. The other generals say the king has these outbursts, but I've never seen them in person before.

I think Gangrel's breathing is starting to return to normal. It's hard to tell if he's back to his senses. General Mustafa goes to the king's side and tries to give him some support, but Gangrel ignores him. Finally, he makes a really drawn-out sigh through his nose and straightens up, sweeping back his hair and wiping his brow free of the sweat that beads on it. He's calm again, almost too much.

"She must remain alive. Understand?" Gangrel says. He pulls at his vest, tucking in a corner to his pants before readjusting his cloak over both shoulders. "Do whatever you want with her family and people, just bring the Exalt to me."

Nobody says anything.

Gangrel is so clueless to the awkward stares he's getting. He blabbers on and on. "You go and do your little planning, priest. I was going to order you to fix your mess anyway. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not wasting a single one of my soldiers on your precious schemes until you undo all of our lost damage."

Gangrel steps boldly up to Validar until they are chest to chest. The king is a head shorter and has to look up into Validar's face. One's sneer is met with the another's apathy.

"But don't think I'm going to let you go around making plans without my knowledge. I expect an outline so damn detailed the scribe's fingers should fall off writing it. I will not let you skulk around in the dark like you prefer to while I remain blind and unaware. Are we clear?"

Validar looks down on him, not very impressed. "I do."

Validar looks ready to say something else, but Gangrel has already turned his back on the Grimleal for other matters. "I'm done here. We have better things to do! To start with, General Mustafa, prepare your soldiers. We have some peasants to visit on the southern steppes. I think our ranks have thinned out since that damnable loss at Ylisstol."

Mustafa jerks in surprise. "The farmers, my liege?"

Gangrel snaps his fingers several times. "And their wives. Someone has to keep this army moving."

The soldiers have gone quiet, even the mouthy Vasto. They don't look surprised. More of them are cringing or performing some religious motions, as if accepting the inevitable. Mustafa looks over the people behind him in somber concern. "But what of the upcoming harvest? Who will tend to that? My men need that food to continue through the winter."

"Those farmers have brats of their own, don't they? Let them learn young how unfair this life really is. They'll appreciate every breath of air so much more." Gangrel pauses and looks over his shoulder. "Aversa, are you coming? Or have you forgotten your role of neutrality in all of this?"

Aversa smiles thinly, aware of his comment at the end. I think she dreams of killing him sometimes. She has to endure his presence more than anyone. "Of course not. I am at your beck and call, my lord."

The overall air afterward is stuffy. No one is in a good mood. The human soldiers look distraught. It's almost sad how much damage they do to each other. They are more treacherous toward their own kind than any species I've seen. Putting them in their place will be not only a worthy punishment for them, but maybe even a blessing. How they've survived so long is beyond my understanding.

Algidus retreats left to return to Letum. I hide behind her. I've learned it's better to remain quiet and far back when the other generals talk. These days, they sometimes forget I'm even here. It's better that way because the less confrontations I have to endure, the less upset it makes Marc and Father.

"A deplorable creature, that one," I hear Letum say to Tantibus while we approach. His voice is clear and normal. With his mask on, he can easily pass as another human priest. His new body is freshly donated by Validar and free of those terrible burns that befell his previous form.

"As I said countless times, a true abomination of nature," Algidus voices in distaste. She happily declares it now that she is free to do so.

"The HUUuuman woULD do welllLL UNder my CCccare," Tantibus wheezes deeply with a slight echo to his voice. His jaw hangs open, words coming out with the gross smell of rotten skin. "I CAn dO the brEAKing and LEt PrAvituSss dO the ResssSST."

Letum presses the other general back into his seat. Tantibus is already twitching eagerly at the thought of working on another of his never-ending experiments. "Not yet, Tantibus. You will soon have a more urgent set of victims to handle."

"I did not know you already sent Pravitus to Ylisstol, Letum," Algidus remarks in surprise. "I thought we were to wait until more progress was made in our designs."

Letum lets his eyes to fall on me over Algidus' shoulder. He stares long and hard, before turning the same spooky glare on Algidus. She also looks back at me, then speaks a bit faster. "Not that we have settled on anything to begin with, that is to say."

Tantibus' laugh is a short series of huffs. I'm not sure what he finds so funny. That noise startles a Grimleal priestess behind us who presses up against the man in front of her. She pushes him through a door with his protests echoing so she can exit the room faster. The lower ranks of the Grimeleal know the generals as priests ordained to the highest standing in their order. Validar made it possible so we could work with total control. No one asks us questions and they do all we demand.

Letum looks to that same human as he approaches us now. He alters his tone so his general disgust is masked. "It was a decision both the High Priest and I settled upon a fortnight ago. Spontaneous, and for good reason."

Validar stops before us, bowing deeply at the waist with both hands clasped before his chest in respect. He knows who we are and defers to Letum and the others in the way the generals have presented themselves, messengers of Grima. He tilts his head up, looking over us. He even looks at me, a strange sort of acknowledgment I'm not used to.

I don't talk to Validar. He's the father of our master's vessel. I guess that makes him my grandfather? I really don't know what to make of him. The vessel is part of Mother after all. And, he does look like her. Sort of. Dealing with him is too strange for me. I mean, he would be family even if he is human. But, he's just a tool for us. Mother doesn't seem to like him anyway. She killed him long before we came to be, with barely any acknowledgment of his role in her reign. So, I just stay away. I don't want her getting mad at me.

"I will assume the others are surprised we sent your young associate out without a proper declaration?" he asks Letum.

"I'm more surprised you mentioned anything at all given how volatile that king is," Algidus says. "Gangrel is not pleased."

Validar returns to a normal stance, smiling just a little. "Gangrel orders many things, forgetting this land is run by two lords. He is the sword of this Plegia, but we are its voice. The voice of our one, true master no less. He forgets that thousands of devoted voices are greater than his one, lonesome arm. We are able to make sudden changes in our tactics as freely as he is."

"However, this one movement means little. A way of merely setting our pieces in the right position in preparation for the grand move. The new information our networks bring in has caused us to make several immediate changes. Upon news from the scouts that the West Khan's navy has set sail for our waters, I have come to realize we must work faster than originally thought."

"FaassSST or SSSssslow, I cARE nAUGHt," Tantibus sneers. He fidgets around like he usually does when without a project to occupy him. "I sssIMply NEED ssssomeTHIIiing to dO."

Algidus is quiet. She always speaks her mind. The only time she doesn't is when she knows her words are not meant for others. She holds back whatever in on her mind, waiting for the priest to leave. Having worked so long with each other, Letum seems to understand. I mean, she is staring pretty hard at him. I think she's afraid Tantibus might slip over something in his rambling. He forgets himself when he's emotional.

"That you will, my friend. As soon as I clarify one small note of worry that has bothered me all day. Validar, if I may speak with you in private about these upcoming arrangements?"

"But of course," Validar says. He steps aside to allow Letum room to pass. "I have good news pertaining to Blackwood and the isolationist cells up north, if that is what you are referring to."

"Most excellent. Meet me in your office chambers, I will there shortly."

Validar bows in farewell to us, his trust and loyalty to us sincere. It's strange to have a human acting as an ally, but it has to be done. Out of them all, these Grimleal are the only ones to accept and understand our master's true worth. We have no others to turn to.

I make a mistake in watching Validar as he leaves. He notices and looks at me with curiosity. It makes my stomach a bit queasy. I see Mother in him, and that's strange for me. He must think me odd, always present but usually silent and hiding. I don't want him to look at me anymore so I step further behind Algidus, accidentally bumping my hand on the corner of a table.

I bite down on my tongue to hold back my cry of pain. I quickly grab my left hand and hold it tight to my chest. I got it caught in a cupboard door trying to steal some cookies Mother made at Ironhold. It's been real sore and the ugly bruise it left hasn't gone away. This is going to make it worse.

I'm so distracted by my stupid accident that I'm missing the other generals and their conversation. It seems they're concerned about Pravitus.

"URgenCcccy issss AcccEPTabLE, bUT can PRAvitusss be TRUsted tO stAND REAdy in tiiiime?"

I pretend to sneeze into my shoulder, masking the snort I loudly let out. Nope! Not if his life depended on it.

Algidus glances at me, expressionless with her mask. She understands though. "I must question this as well. Pravitus is young and known to lack finesse. That exuberance can quickly grow out of control."

"I spoke with our young compatriot," Letum remarks with sincerity. "We have reached an arrangement, of sorts. I will present a new face of Pravitus' choosing so long as such reckless behaviors are kept in check."

"A deal like that is dangerous, Letum. You know as well as I who Pravitus is most likely to choose. They may be problematic later given Grima's interests," Algidus warns, looking at me again. She doesn't mean Father, does she? Pravitus was always jealous of Father replacing him in Master Grima's favor. It's why he's now a Risen like the rest of them. Letum wouldn't let Pravitus have Father, would he?

He can't! Mother wouldn't allow it. Marc and I won't either! But, perhaps Letum is aware of this problem, or Algidus intended to make him aware knowing what Marc and I would do. Letum answers cautiously enough to keep me from reacting.

"We will deal with it when the time comes." He glances briefly at me, daring any sort of reaction. I'm only here because of Algidus' request so I won't do anything bad for her sake. "I had not wished to draw these humans in so deeply, but Grima has become...difficult. I do not wish to face Grima's temper in addition to the issues we now face. The humans' aid is now more necessary than ever, though I loathe to taste such words."

Letum staggers, catching himself with a hand on Tantibus' shoulder. It causes Tantibus to look up. "You are the luckiest of us all, friend. You will be with Pravitus soon doing as you please. The rest of us must linger in this filth a while still."

"YessSS. DisgUSsssssssting. An ABsoLUTE TRAgedy," Tantibus agrees.

Letum nods his head slowly, falling more into Tantibus for support. The glow of his eyes is fading. He sounds both weary and annoyed. "I am tired and this body only hosts so much energy before I am spent. I will be on my way to finish this meeting as quick as I can. I believe we may call this sham of a meeting over."

Tantibus clucks in disgust, slithering off in Letum's shadow with no good-bye. Letum himself only acknowledges Algidus, ignoring me outright. This means they're all gone now, both the Grimleal and generals. All that's left is Algidus and I. For once, I can breathe. Algidus places a clawed hand on my shoulder, each finger cracking one after another as they flex their thin grip over me. I can feel a pulse of life, small as an ember, humming from inside of her. She's getting stronger with each ritual the Grimleal perform.

Her head lolls over her shoulder, hanging limply. Her muscles are still struggling to respond to the life force she's imbued into its dead limbs. Her eyes glow dimly, not at all threatening like the others. She raises her mask and tries to smile, the split and cracked lips receding further to show off yellow, chipped teeth.

"You did so well, child," her voice echoes from deep down. She tries to squeeze my shoulder in comfort, but the ragged edges of her nails pierce through my clothing and pinch my soft human skin. I try to smile back, the corner of my tooth catching my lip to hold back the pain.

"I do what I must for the good of our Master," I recite like the good boy I make myself out to be. Obedient so the others think none the wiser. Though, there's nothing to truly hide from Algidus. She is good to us, when others have not been. I don't fear her like the others when I am here, alone without Marc and Father.

"Of course you do. You have always been so good, even as a newborn babe. I wish the others would see that you are a valuable tool, not a hindrance." Algidus' hand slips off my shoulder, hanging frozen at her side as she struggles to connect her desires with the body's own control over its limbs. Her arm is straight and stiff, shaking immensely until bone grinds on bone and it snaps at the elbow to a bent position. She sways closer to me, offering herself for me to take hold of. "Help me to the garden pool."

She smells like the family tomb Marc and I once hid in for refuge from rain. Dusty, ancient, and just like myrrh. There's also something fresh, like clean water in the mountains. It smells much nicer than the others. It's part of the reason I like her.

I loop my arm around hers and she presses up to my side. I only reach the top of her forearm, though that's going to change soon according to Father. He says growth alters dramatically for someone my age. Marc is terrified I'll grow bigger than her and be able to overpower her in our play wrestling. I don't think that's the case. We're twins and the same size. So her size, whenever she finally gets her dragon form, won't be any different than mine. Unless she means if we remain in our human forms, but why would we ever go back to those once we're free to assume our dragon forms permanently in Mother's world?

I guide Algidus through the ancient fortress, an intriguing bit of architecture from the great Lord Medeus' day. Our kind had been trapped in human form by then, so the castle was constructed with the majesty of our true forms all throughout the decorations and support structures. The dragons here are bulky and with smaller wings like most Earth dragons. I read a human book which once described Lord Medeus as a prince or king of the Earth dragon clan. There are few pictures of him I have been able to find that don't show him as something monstrous. I imagine he must have been tall and strong, something I hope to be someday.

Cold rays of moonlight peek through the shattered, dirty atrium glass above as we enter the garden. It's wild and overgrown, the immediate path only recently cleared to provide Algidus a living space. It was the only place she was comfortable in the mountains as she described it as nothing but a rock-laden prison around her. A natural underground spring connects to the built in irrigation moat and fountain constructed here. An engineer came from the capital at the high priest's command in order to fix it. The water runs clean and cold through multiple rivets in the ground, flowing in a circular spiral. These eventually pour into the fountain mechanism the feeds the spouts on top of it. It reflects brown, hazy reflections from the smudged glass above. I think this place is lonely, but it's the only room Algidus feels at home.

She begins to walk with her own strength, pulling me at a faster pace when her gaze falls on the flowing pool. Magic works faster and stronger in her borrowed body, allowing the limbs to move smoother. It pumps through her much like blood does in my own body.

I release myself from her aid when we reach the fountain. Her eyes close, extinguishing the light upon her cheeks. She removes her shoes and presses one exposed ankle into the water, followed by the other. She doesn't do anything to the garment around her and material of her dress floats up to meet her knees at the surface. Algidus stands there and I can only watch her in silence. I wish I knew what she was feeling, but we aren't blood, not like my family. I can only guess.

I think she's sad, probably about many things. She's far from her lands. She told me once long, long ago when she still watched over Marc and I. Algidus was the last elder of her clan and one of the few to survive the Great Maddening. Many died and others went mad. Her home is north where the sun can sometimes disappear for many days and never rise. She said the waters were pure there, unlike here.

Algidus is down to her waist, sinking slowly so her bones can function in a way they don't break under her weight. She eventually finds a way to sit with her legs crossed in the water, her arms shaking and popping sometimes while she works her lower limbs into the position she wants. Her dress is tucked under her to prevent it from rising further. She leans back to rest under the flow of a waterfall spilling from a carved dragon's head above. It dampens the veil over her, plastering it to her thin gray hair until is all blends together around her face. Algidus discards her mask and finally opens her eyes. She speaks once she's fully soaked through.

"Child, sit and stay with me." Her voice is always pleasant and gentle with me, the way a mother should sound. At least, that's what the books I've read describe one as.

I can feel a cold, sad tingle in my chest when I force myself to shake my head. I need to get back to Marc and Father. "I have a mission to continue."

Algidus' irises flash to a brightened blue making them pale as ice. "Is there no time for even a short respite with your old milk mother?"

Like the others, she speaks in old tongue to me, one of her first gifts to us. We learned the language of dragons from Algidus and that of humans from Father. Some words are old and hard to apply to human language, however. Old tongue is hard because dragons do not think in terms of he or she. They simply are. To call her a "milk mother" is the closest I can describe her word as. Literally, one who raises a brood in place of another, providing the nourishment and lessons needed to survive. I guess I could also interpret it as "wet nurse," which is something close in human tongue. Until Mother reclaimed us, it was Algidus who watched over Marc and I as far back as I remember.

Because of that, I feel bad. I find myself sitting on the marbled edge of the fountain, the cold puddles from her early splashing soaking into my pants.

"Not like that, child. Like we used to," she pleads with me. I know what she means. She wants to speak with me in my dragon form. I nod silently, causing her eyes to spark more in happiness.

I find my stone, the key to unlocking the power my Lady's blood has given me. I've done it so many times that the transformation part is second nature. The stone is still cracked so it takes longer to work. It makes it a little uncomfortable with all the shape changing and skin pulling. If I focus on something else, like feeling the magical fires growing in my stomach, I barely notice it.

When I rise up from the smoke with all four limbs on the ground, I raise my head. I shake away the daze that clouds up my mind from adjusting to my other self. I catch sight of myself briefly in the water around me. I look much more like Mother here. My scales are the deepest purple, almost black until it catches a certain way in the light. Though my horns are still small, they'll curve out and grow thicker with time like hers. I'm not sure how long it will take for me to reach her full size, if ever. I have a bulkier body, good for Marc to ride upon, but only two wings to use. If I have any faults it's how much smaller and thinner my front limbs are. They're like human arms, more flexible and able to grasp better with my claws. My hind limbs are thicker and all muscle, good only for sitting or pressing off in flight. Why are my back legs different from the ones in front? They're so tiny! How can I be a big, scary dragon if I have little arms? Maybe I should lift tree trunks or something. Would that make me tougher?

The red of my sclera glints in a streak of red across the water, hiding the little bit of amber yellow around my iris in the glow. My Lady's are the same, though tripled in number. It would take me many years to achieve even a little bit of her fearsome image. I just hope someday I'll be able to achieve enough to earn her acceptance.

I settle down against the fountain's edge, my claws creating furrows in the dirt while I tuck my limbs up against me. I curl my wings around me to keep in the heat around my body since this place is way too cold for me.

Algidus' laughter always reminded me of rain dripping off chimes. I imagine if she had a human form, she'd look like the wise queens heroes went to for help in their journeys. She outstretches a hand to me, and I oblige her. I'm used to the touch of dead skin, the generals having no way to reside physically without it. Even when Mother was just gathering enough strength to give them bodies, the originals never lasted. Algidus was always someone else, but all Risen are the same. What matters is the dragon on the inside, the one who was our caretaker in our infant years when we were not yet helpful to our Lady's cause.

"You have grown in your long months here before I came," Algidus pleasantly realizes. Her stiff, shriveled skin rests on my elongated nose, resting between the two nostrils I breathe through. "So much stronger. You have always been a healthy one."

"I haven't grown enough," I sulk openly, raising a claw to show off.

Algidus sighs in amusement. She pulls my head towards her, looking over my features. She takes a particular interest in making sure my teeth seem strong and full. "You will. Younglings take time to fill out to their adult size. Be patient and treat yourself well."

"I have been. I must stay strong to aid our cause as best I can," I state, proudly flexing the muscles in my shoulders to show off the newly sharpened bones sprouting up between my scales. Once grown, they'll be rows of sharp defenses to ram enemies with. Marc will definitely appreciate that. She always did enjoy engaging in close quarters combat.

"Such a devoted little warrior!" Algidus praises in delight, especially at the flutter of my wings as I show off their full span. A whole five feet more than what she would remember! The light in her irises fades deeply. Algidus gently runs her hand up and down the length of my nose. "Why must you always leave us? You have grown to show such talents. Letum wastes them by sending you away."

I quickly duck from her touch, her movements tickling my skin and causing me to hold my breath so I don't sneeze on her. I wait until the funny feeling fades, not wanting to leave her in a huge plume of smoke. "Letum doesn't want us here, Algidus."

She retracts her hand and settles back, sinking deeper into the water. "Letum won't deny me if I ask. The others know I will keep you well."

I quickly fake a yawn, dipping my head under my left wing. Using my claw, I swipe away a bit of dead skin that pulled off of Algidus and got stuck to my scales. "My twin wouldn't do well here. It's better we stay away where the others can't see us. We anger them, especially Pravitus."

"Yes, your wayward nest mate. Impulsive, prone to acting before thinking, and always a handful," Algidus says. It's hard to tell what she's feeling since her face hardly changes to show different emotions. I mean, she sort of sounds a little annoyed but I think I'm just hearing things. She's probably sad or frustrated. "It is no wonder she bears Grima's mark. The perfect heir befitting our leader."

Right. Her mark...I feel immense relief when Algidus shows no sign of lingering on the thought.

"That one no longer seems to trust me. We do not speak kindly to each other." Algidus reaches for me again, though I don't go to her immediately. Now she definitely is sad, catching air in her empty palm before drawing it close to her chest. She reopens her hand, taking in the pouch hanging around her neck. She got it only recently. I think there's a small bone in there. Algidus rubs it around in her grasp almost desperately. She lifts her eyes and stares at me. "Not like the way we do, my child. You still come to me when I call."

It really is a strange thing, why Marc no longer gets along with Algidus. She raised us! After our birth, Algidus was our keeper. Master was too busy to be a...a mother. She didn't need us, weak and useless as we were. She was fighting for our people against the whole world, after all! Until we could be of use to her, we grew under Algidus' watchful eye. We were all so close. Sometimes I think Algidus even favored Marc originally. Marc always had the better treats. That changed after Master Grima had us fight. We started to see less of Algidus. Maybe Marc just grew apart from her? I asked her once and she said she couldn't explain what it was. Algidus simply reminded her of the other generals, just in a way she couldn't describe. It never made any sense to me. She's only been helpful to us. We were never to show emotion, but with Algidus...

It was the closest thing I knew to affection before discovering Father and learning to put words to feelings. Algidus showed us affection and she wanted the same. Of course I could never properly respond back then with my Lady's watchful eye looking for such weakness. In this time without her around, I've afforded myself some small luxury in doing so with Algidus, little as it was.

"I'm sorry. It's a disrespect to you. I'll have a word if that's what you would like," I say. Marc makes the others so mad, and I'm worried it will come back on her some day. I try to protect her when I can with words to appease their egos. I don't fear Algidus like the others, but I want her to keep a positive influence in our defense. She's the only ally we have among the other generals.

"No. I am happy enough for your presence. It cannot be helped, painful as it is. There is clearly only love for Grima in that one." Algidus tries to smile again even if it is hard. "Unlike you. You have not forgotten."

I shake my head, claw pawing into the ground from distress. "Of course not! Before our Master showed me anything, you taught me my first lessons. You're a valued ally of Master Grima. I know you work faithfully for our cause."

"That is because I raised you as my own. I would expect no less." Algidus struggles to rise, wavering on her legs. It is an improvement from before. She was barely able to stand before in the Risen she had escaped Ylisstol in. With this fresh sacrifice from the Grimleal, along with some borrowed magic, she has grown stronger. Once standing, she moves through the water to a flowering bush. Her dress trails behind her ashen, water lined body. She reminds me of the stories Father told me about spooky water maidens. They would lure travelers to their deaths along the rivers they haunted so they could steal their souls. Creepy.

Algidus, still clutching that pouch with one hand, uses the other to reach for something. She extracts a bigger bag, though only a little bit more than the one on her neck. Her eyes glow bright again and she sounds sort of sad and happy all at once. "You would look positively beautiful in blue, child."

I twist my head totally to one side and squint at her. "Maybe? If that's what you feel."

I don't understand why she would say that. I look fearsome enough already! Echo, the mighty guardian of Grima! Roar!

"I am quite serious. It is so easy to see. The brightest of blues, like the sky after the snow laden clouds part." She giggles. "So bright."

Algidus beckons me to her, the object she retrieved swinging back and forth hypnotically. "Before you part, I wish to give your something." I find myself doing as she says, one limb in front of the other. I rest on back legs, sitting up straight.

She drops the present in one outstretched claw. I can feel something powerful inside. It's round from what I feel. A dull glow lights up under the woven material, exuding a familiar tug I've felt so many times before.

"A dragonstone?" I say. I crane my head around the other way, imitating my previous look. I don't want to be rude, but I don't get it. "I already have one, Algidus."

"Did you not say it was cracked? Perhaps this new one would be more fitting to use?" she explains, watching me intently. She sounds proud upon seeing the light from within the bag. "It's already glowing. You are compatible with it. I had a feeling it would."

"I couldn't-"

"Please," Algidus interrupts me. She takes both hands and pushes each one of my claws over it until it is tight in my grasp. "Take it with my fondest regards. It would mean much to me."

"Perhaps I could see if it works on my twin?"

"No!" Algidus shouts, voice cracking sharp like ice. She regrets her tone and softens. "No, this is for you only. This I wish upon you to carry."

"I've seen you with this dragonstone before. Is it yours?" Algidus has always carried this dragonstone and kept it close. I always thought it hers, ready to use once Master Grima returned her to a proper form. She's very attached to this.

"No." She pauses, hand returning to the hanging pouch. "But it is not needed yet. Soon, perhaps, but not until then. Carry it for me and use it with good reason. Keep yourself whole and safe, child."

Her lingering hand caresses my claws lightly before pulling away. "I would hate to see any sort of harm befall you."

"Of course Algidus," I whisper. I'm very unsure what else to say. This is something that means a lot to her. I don't feel right taking it from her even if she wants me too. I'm not sure I could even use it. It feels...full already. Like it's already been used. Marc said something similar about mine. She couldn't use my stone to try and transform because she could tell it's already mine. But Algidus said it wasn't hers and I could use it for my own. So...hm.

"I've kept you too long. How selfish of me. You have a mission to continue, after all." Algidus retreats to her fountain again. Her head hangs, the veil and her hair covering all of her face and neck. Her combined grasp on that bag makes her look like she's praying. "Impatient as I may be, I understand what must be done before what we all desire is to be accomplished. Grima cannot fulfill our promises if not returned first."

"I...yes." My chest tightens, making it harder to breathe. I look away from Algidus' small, hunched body in the fountain. Leaving Algidus makes me sad, but Mother needs me more. She's the most important thing right now. Without her, we're lost. "I would like to leave before sunrise."

"Well, I should not keep you anymore than I already have. We all have a part to play." Algidus does not raise her face, unable to see me depart. She tries to hide her disappointment. "Pass along my greetings to your nest mate. Distant as we have become, I still think kindly upon our time."

"I will," I answer, unable to say more.

"I hope you learned much today. Be safe, little one. Until we meet again."

The room flashes brightly as my transformation comes undone. I land on my knees, her gift still held tightly. I look at it, then to her before turning away. "Good-bye Algidus."

---

My return is swift. I fly nonstop, only pausing to eat lightly and sleep. The only creatures to grab along the way are sheep and they're stringy when raw. I miss cooked meat. It might be hypocritical of me, but humans have done wonderful things with food. I bet that's why Mother has grown so fond of it. I want to try her food someday! My Lady is so amazing that I have no doubt anything she would offer to me, even burnt toast, would be amazing!

Honestly though, anything would be better than Marc or Father's cooking. I do most of that work for us because Marc's tastes are bizarre and Father...I'm sorry to say this, but you're even worse! I wonder, though. Is that why Mother learned to cook in the first place?

It takes me a few hours to find our campsite. My family has moved again. They're hiding out in the treeline far enough outside the regular patrols the keep pursues. I can only sense Marc. Father is very far away and in Ironhold somewhere. He must be scouting tonight. I use the mountain for cover, landing far away so I can change and make the rest of the trip on foot to avoid suspicion. I can't help but notice all the bodies moving about! The two armies have fully joined then. This will make it easier to compile a full report on the entirety of this coalition's leading officers. It's the most important thing Pravitus is going to need. Also, without them, Tantibus won't be able to know his targets.

I find the camp easy enough. I can feel Marc's excitement jumping. All I have to do is follow her feeling through the trees. The shadows of a fire appear between the thick trucks of pine trees hiding our camp. I just push through the branches when I hear Marc yell.

"Morgan!" My sister exclaims loudly as she jumps from her seat. She runs forward and hugs me around the waist, knocking us both backward. "You're back! Took you long enough!"

My excitement over seeing her vanishes on hearing my name. It's so weak! "How many times have I said-"

"Blah, blah!" She sours, poking my cheek in annoyance. "I'm trying to provide a heartfelt, warm family welcome to you! Don't complain."

It really annoys me so much how she just can't get it to stick. Echo is a cool name! A...a ferocious name! Mystical and mysterious like the shadows! I guess little sisters are annoying, even if they are only by a few minutes.

I swallow my urge to snap at her. I'm tired and really want to sit down. Stupid as it is, I'm just relieved to be back again. My whole body is tired from flying. "Fine. I'll forgive you, but just because I'm happy to see you too. But, where's Father? It's late, even for him to be working."

Marc pulls me toward the fire. She sits back on the log I first saw her on and reaches back behind it for whatever she dropped. "I dunno. Scouting, I guess. He's been leaving every night since you left, though I don't know what he's searching for. Maybe he's just keeping an eye on Mom with all the humans about? I offered to go with, but he wants me to sleep. Joke's on him though!" She finds what she's seeking and holds it triumphantly in the air. "I've got better things to do."

Marc shows off the music box we've both come to love. It's not just any music box. It's Mother's, and it comes from the world the other generals took her from. My sister holds it in both hands for me to see. It's so smooth and shiny, but the color and feeling is all off. It's neither wood nor metal. It's an unnatural purple, like the bright mountain flowers we crush into paste to use on burn wounds. If you touch the top of it and push down on some places, this box on the same side above it makes light. We couldn't read the symbols on it, but we figured out how to make it work after a lot of experimenting.

Marc was the one who discovered how. She just started tapping things and eventually, music came out! It surprised us all, even Father. Marc ended up dropping it on the ground and we stared at it as this strange melody came out, followed by several voices singing together all at once. It's not like anything I ever heard before. The song eventually stopped and we thought maybe it was over, but another started right after! No one understood the words, but they were clearly singing. Sometimes the music was the same singers, and sometimes it was just instruments. Whatever this was, it was some sort of music box that could play forever.

Well, we thought so until it went out one day. We couldn't tell why. It upset Marc the most. There's lots of, um, things to poke on the music box that look like books or something and my sister likes the one with the five human men on it. She says they sound nice together. In the middle of listening to it, the light went out and it stopped working no matter what we pushed. She was so upset that she buried herself under her blanket and wouldn't come out all night.

I fixed it though. After looking through Mother's bag of things, I found this other strange device with a piece coming out of it that can attach the music box. I realized after leaving it out by accident one day that it seems to wind the music box up again. I don't know how it works and it's only after I leave it out in the sun, but it does. There's other odd things in Mother's bag we're trying to figure out, but this is the only so far we seem to really understand.

Marc has put in the listening device that makes it so only one person can hear the music box, or two if you share. She has one of the soft, squishy ends in her ear and lets me take the other. She has it extra loud, the music frantic and fast. I don't know anything on the planet that can make so many high and low sounds with such strange twists in the rhythm like this. It's like taking gears from clocks and cranking them super fast and then grinding them continuously, all while this melody cuts in an out in the background. Father doesn't care for this as much as Marc does. It makes him anxious.

I sit beside her and watch the fire trying not to let my head spin with the speed of the music confusing it so. "I guess you're listening to your favorites again?"

She squints at me, rolling her eyes. "Um, yeah? Don't you? This is the strangest, most interesting thing ever! The realm we pulled Mother from sure is something."

"Yeah." The music stalls to a lone hum and a female sounding voice begins to sing. She sounds lonesome, a contrast to everything before. "Wherever she was, it's not like here."

Marc interlocks her fingers together, stretching her arms over her head in a clear sign of sleepiness. "It's so mysterious. Something your precious human books finally can't explain to you."

The voice cuts out and the noise begins again, louder than before. I have to take the piece out of my ear. Even pulled away, I can hear music coming out the end. Why does she have to play this so loud? "Make the noise go down."

Marc looks out of the corner of her eye, frowning at me. "Who's going to hear this out here?"

"Father. Or, at least he might catch us," I remind her. "He didn't want us fooling around with these strange things we don't understand."

"Too bad." Marc grins wickedly at me, unveiling Mother's bag from the opposite end of the log. Like everything else, it's crafted of foreign materials I've never seen. Someone has drawn four humans on it, all of them with really, really big eyes. I'm curious what it means. Are they heroes from a story? Marc wants to ask Mother. She wants to know how to get pink hair like the girl on the front. I want a blue and orange jacket like one that one boy has!

A pile of yellow and brown wrappers fall in my lap after Marc pulls them out of her pocket. They smell like candy. Chocolate, I think. It's hard to say because I've only had it a few times. Where did this come from? It looks like the foreign writing from the music box is the same lettering on these! I glare at my sister. Marc, you didn't!

"I already ate half the stuff we found in the bag Mother had with her." Her grin reveals the chocolate still stuck between her teeth.

I feel dread in my stomach, followed by anger that boils up and threatens to smoke out of me. I push her hard, almost knocking her off the log. "Marc! We were supposed to share that when Father wasn't looking!"

"It was getting stale!" She reaches into the bag again and throws a large bag in my face. I fall backward, catching myself on one arm while the other protects my head. It collapses over my arms and slides into my lap with a big plop.

"Here, you stupid worrywart. I saved you some," she assures me. I hold up the half empty, colorful bag Mother kept these treats in. I never knew she had a sweet tooth! It was only after Marc and I snuck out two pieces for ourselves to try that we realized Mother's bag was full of similar tasting snacks. There's so much we still don't know about her!

I can't believe how much Marc ate though! This is way more than even I would have taken! "If Mother finds out we ate all her food-"

Marc thrusts her hand in the bag on my lap and quickly unwraps a chocolate before stopping my mouth mid-sentence with it. "Eat it. You're too cautious."

Oh, she's right. This is chewy. Worse than when we first tried it. Maybe we can tell Mother we threw it away. No, they she'll know we're willingly at fault. Okay, maybe it got lost in the travels and fell out somewhere?

I finish eating and grab another, finally relaxing as my sister babbles about something Mother did. It's nice to not be on guard. I don't have to worry about the generals or my duty. Marc and I can just sit in front of the campfire eating candy while I update her on events while I was away. It odd because I think this is what it feels like to be... normal. Families that can sit together and talk about anything without worry. Humans often sit together and eat their meals while making silly talk about their days. Do dragons do the same thing? For all the knowledge we have on humans, I want to find more about dragons. Algidus said our kind created countless works of art and literature. Where has it all gone though? Is our whole culture truly lost? I'd like to find it someday, if I could.

Marc listens to me tell her about what I learned in Plegia, saving her comments for the end. "Ugh. Pervitus is back at work?" she hisses in disgust, crumpling up candy wrappers extra hard between her hands. "Gross."

"He's in Ylisstol for now," I repeat, hoping to calm her down.

It works a little. She crosses her arms, her face disappearing under the shadow of her hood. "Keep him there."

I know deep down this won't get any better of a reaction, but I try and hope for something. "Algidus says hello."

"Oh." There's no change in her reflection. She sounds angrier than before. "Okay."

"You're acting so cold to her." It's a point I've made often and each time it irritates my sister more.

Marc yanks the listening piece out of my hand and puts it in her other ear. She turns away from me, sitting defensive and combatant. "She's weird, just like the others. I don't get why you can't see that." Marc pauses and leans forward on one arm. "I don't like how she looks at you. You don't think she's kind of possessive?"

Possessive? Algidus has treated me the same since childhood. Marc is imagining things. She's letting her inability to get along with Algidus taint her view of our friendship! I stand up and walk away to where my belongings are. Someone has placed the book I had been reading on top of my bedroll. I brush some pine needles and leaves off the cover.

"You're the only one who's weird," I reply to her.

"Whatever," Marc grumbles, shaking her head in defeat. "Scrub."

I lower my book into my lap and glare at her. "What does that mean?"

"I dunno. Mom says it to a lot to people she doesn't seem to like," Marc sulks. She glares back at me from over her shoulder. "Sounds like an insult to me."

Ugh! Why is she like this? I push the ribbon marking my reading spot back in place, already upset she interrupted me only ten words in! "Well, then you're a scrub too because as twins, we're the same."

Marc's head snaps in my direction. Her eyes spark up in the dark with draconian magic making them deeper and more vibrant all at the same time. "Well if that's true, then you're the scrublord since you're the worst."

The combative, ever burning fire that lies in every dragon flares up in me and I meet her challenge with the same amount of excitement. It's not so much about animosity as it is just liking the idea of fighting. "That means I'm better than you if I'm the lord of all scrubs," I taunt back.

I can hear the sharp crack of bark ripping off the tree trunk as her finger dig in deep. "No it means you're the worst, that's why you're the king of them all."

I can taste the spark of confrontation on my tongue, words forming perfect comebacks to argue with my nest mate. My sister can feel it through our shared kinship, a current of mild aggression and sibling rivalry that always is a factor in our lives. But unlike Marc who enjoys fighting more, I prefer to think. I can already picture what a fight between us could do, from simply earning Father's ire to drawing in the attention of the humans. That would really bad, and it would also put Mother in a bad spot.

"Fine," I admit, puckering up my mouth. It's like eating a really, really sour lemon. I don't like to admit defeat. Mother says those who quit don't deserve to live as they've proven themselves failures. I'll consider this a tactical retreat so I can plan to get back at Marc another day. Too many risks to account for knowing how we usually fight.

Marc takes in her victory with a quiet snicker, her irritatingly smug grin so toothy I almost get up and start a fight for real. I ignore her, burying myself back in my book. I can't read the words and my eyes end up skimming the same sentence. There's only so many times I can find myself absorbing the same words over and over again!

"Things haven't changed much back here." Marc is picking bark from out under her fingernails, one splinter after another. "Just in case you want to know."

I sigh and abandon the book altogether. Setting it to the side, I edge closer to the fire and put out both palms toward the flames. "The army activity has increased," I comment. I noticed the people around the keep grew infinitely larger as I traveled closer. There's so many humans in one place! The scents are overwhelming!

"They're already taking the last of Plegia's scouting posts this side of the mountains. They've started moving slowly toward the only remaining pass left." Marc continues in her update. She grows more serious. "They're going to split the army up. The largest majority is going to draw Plegia's attention as they get ready to take control of the road. I don't know what the smaller group is going to do, but they are going to move through the tunnels into Plegia somewhere."

Marc pauses, dragging the tips of her boots through the needles on the ground. "Mother will be leaving through the tunnels when she gets back from the mission she's on."

I bite my lip, a shiver of anticipation for the unknown causing me to grip the tops of my pants. Mother is leaving the main body of the army? Why? This is not good. Another unexpected action.

I turn my eyes on the far away lights of Ironhold. We're so close yet still so far from our Master. I truly miss her. "How is she, Marc? Is Mother still the same?"

Marc's fingers, free of bark, continue to rub together nervously. "Yes. And, no."

"You can't be both."

"Our Lady," Marc stops, tongue catching against her teeth as if the words were too salty to speak. Her voice grows softer. "Mom is well. She's thriving. But, at the same time, she's not. She's doing the opposite of everything she ever taught us. She's helping the humans more and more, and it's the Ylisseans. Not even the smelly Plegians! It's Naga's stinky group of humans!"

Marc lets out an aggravated groan and throws her arms out. She falls back completely behind the log into the nest she made of her bedding. She lands on her back with feet straight up in the air. Her knees bend and collapse over the log while her arms tuck under her head. "It doesn't make sense! Father is totally different too. He's allied with her, but he's helping the humans too. He's-"

Her voice chokes up, growing quiet at the revelation we never had thought true. "Father never told us he was one of them."

My voice seizes up in my throat, the pit in my stomach pinching. I don't know what to say. When Marc and I started to discover more of this world and both of our parents' involvement in it, things didn't add up. Our master is the dreaded Grima, scourge of humanity. Father is her favored. We exist because of that. So why...

"He goes to the sermons Naga's priest delivers. He drags Mother along too sometimes, even though she doesn't seem to care all that much. Still, I would have thought she'd be protesting! Isn't that the total opposite of what we're trying to achieve? I thought she'd break into hives or melt or something in Naga's presence!"

I wonder if this is what Mother feels? Confused and unsure of what we once thought to be so definite. Mother was the harbinger of our revenge. Justice for the dragons who fell to human tyranny. But when we found her, she reacted all wrong. She's aware of her situation, but she doesn't know what to make of it.

We've been told things. We assumed things. So it's so confusing when everything we see now is...different.

"It must be too early. Mother must not have converted Father to the cause yet. I mean, once he falls in love with her and wants to be with her forever, he'll follow her back to our cause." My reasoning isn't very sound. Even I can't convince myself with such a lame idea and Marc lets me know it.

My sister slams both fists into the ground, sitting upright. Her hair hangs all around her face and she blows it out of her eyes in choppy breathes. "This isn't one of your stupid romance books Morgan!"

"Echo!" I hiss out, feeling the fire begin to rise. One more time like that and smoke really will start to fly!

"Whatever, stupid! That isn't the point!" Marc claws back some hair over the top of her head. It's too short though and falls right back in her face, causing a high-pitched keen of frustration to come out of her. She flops backward again. "Something's really wrong! It's like everything we ever thought is just-" She chokes a little, the words a strangled whisper, "...a lie."

My heart skips a beat and I find myself looking about. A reflexive gesture since Mother always seemed to be around whenever we said something we shouldn't. The fear of that pain was enough to keep our mouths closed when we were younger, but I'm afraid our freedom has made us bold. Of course she's not here. She in the keep, so very powerless without us, and far away from Marc's dangerous thinking.

My heart begins to slow again. I find a sense of comfort in my conviction to defend Mother. "Our Master would never lie to us. Neither would Father."

Marc's arms wave about above the log like dismembered floating noodles. "How do we explain all of this then, Mr. Genius?"

"I don't know. All I do know is that Mother is Master Grima. And Master Grima is in Ironhold. It's still her, despite everything."

My sister shoots up, sputtering as leaves fall on her face. She wipes them away, scrambling up over the log. "Yeah, at least that much is certain! She has to be. I mean, you feel it, right? Every day her aura grows stronger. Remember when Pravitus was getting all up in our face in Ylisstol?" A dark, satisfied smile slides over Marc as she punches her fist into her other palm. "She exploded with energy. Our master's energy! I could feel her just like someone of our own blood would."

"Almost," I say, remembering the strange, subtle differences that made standing next to her seem foreign and familiar all at once. Her smell too, different but the same. "Something has changed her. Perhaps it was during the time traveling we all did. She didn't appear when she said she would. We waited and nothing happened."

"Well, yeah! She ended up in a whole other realm!" Marc's eyes grow wide and she leaps over the distance between us until she is sitting beside me. She's nearly pressed forehead to forehead with me, eyes shining in the firelight. "Unless she was trying to conquer a whole new world!"

I place my hand over her face and shove her back just enough to cause her to slip and fall again. My thoughts are on the red-haired guardian of this world. Letum called her the key to finding our master, and that proved to be mostly true. However, it's come with a price I'm not confident about. "That woman said problems occur when you swap realms without proper precautions. Letum didn't listen and we forced the trip anyway. Maybe that did something to her?"

"Problems that included getting her crazy sister to show up and start messing things up even more, you mean." Marc sticks her tongue out in frustration at our situation. "You actually think that changed Mom's entire personality? Sounds stupid to me."

"Magic is bad for anyone if you don't pay attention. That was the first lesson Algidus taught us!" Marc turns into a statue after I use the name. I can't believe she's sulking this much.

"It's getting bad," she grumbles out. I notice Marc's fists begin to clench. "Mon was talking about us the other day, about how she wanted to help us."

"With you?"

"No." Marc spits it own so meanly that I can almost picture the smoke swirling out of her nose. "With her."

Oh.

Her.

I thought we agreed not discuss her again.

"They're talking all the time." Marc takes one of her fists and begins to beat it into the log, the wood starting to buckle under her strength. "All. The. Time."

Lucina. The time-traveling princess. Our archenemy and greatest threat to unraveling all we've done. Naga's own champion to rival Master Grima's.

Lucina has our Mother wrapped up in her stupid fantasy.

"They're together every day and I can only sit there listening to the lies she keep feeding Mom. Stupid, stupid lies!" I catch Marc, stopping her before she scrapes her knuckles anymore. Father might ask after all. Marc looks deeply in my eyes, tears starting to frame her lashes. She grabs hold of my elbows, shaking me.

"You're supposed to be my brother," her voice cracks. "Not hers."

Of all the things we learned, neither Marc or I were ready to hear what our greatest enemy had to say. I want to believe it's lies. A twisted manipulation to get our Master to feel sorry for her and spare her further. Lies to bind them together and prevent the justified fate the human princess deserves. I...

I wouldn't be so shaken if not for Mother's reaction. It's like she knew. Not over just everything but about...

About me.

I-I don't know anything about this. Time travel and all of it makes my head hurt. But hearing that human princess talk about me like we were fam-

No! No! I'm over this! I already made up my mind on the subject! I won't think about it anymore. I can't. We made up our minds after the last talk. I have to...to believe in what I know. Master Grima. Father. Marc. That's what I believe in. Our family is what I know. What I remember. I am alive in this world and this is my life. I'm no stupid human boy and I'm definitely not her stupid brother!

"I'm not." I say it again out loud. I have to be strong for Marc, even if my voice is shaking as much as my hands when I go and hug my sister. This my family. Master Grima doesn't lie. "Lucina is not my sister. You are."

"I don't want to be replaced," Marc whispers into my shoulder. Her fears feed between us, growing my own no matter how much I try to squish them down. "She only has one daughter, not two."

"Father hasn't said anything yet?" I ask her, though I already know the answer.

Marc sniffs really loudly. I try not to think about all the snot she's getting on my shirt. "He stopped me from killing that imposter yesterday. He was really mad."

That's not good. Father shouldn't react like that. And still no answers from him! Though, I think out of all of us, Father took the princess' words the hardest. None of know what to make of it, but he became so withdrawn after that. He's gone for long hours. I had hoped things would get better when I got back from reporting to the other generals, but it's still the same. Father...

We need you more than ever to help, but you're pulling away too. Just like Mother.

"Deceiving the generals and letting Mother do as she pleases is only going to last so long. We need a plan. This isn't going to last," I tell Marc. It's not what she wants to hear, but she needs to.

Marc sniffs again, pulling away only a little. She rubs her left eye with the back of her hand. "I suggested long, long ago to just kidnap Mom and take her far away until she gets better. She never liked her generals anyway."

"She'd snap us like twigs if her old personality came back," I flinch, past punishments always fresh and lingering in my memories.

Marc perks up, looking over her shoulder. She tilts her head to the wind and closes her eyes. A second later, I can feel it too. "Dad's coming back. He must know you're here," she whispers after a little hiccup.

Father is harder to sense than Mother. His human qualities make him difficult to sense far away given how weak his aura is. Mother's magic flowing through him makes him much easier to pick out than the average person, but the distance is still not that great.

The power of his aura is only felt when he's within a short radius from camp, proof of that when he appears a minute later.

Despite everything, Father is still Father. I'm happy to see him. He's bringing the smells of camp life, spices and bonfire smoke. I feel his anxiety. It's immense. He wants to see me super bad! I hardly feel my impatience. I'm already on my feet, fidgeting around all over while I look through the trees for him. Finally! There! His eyes are already watching me as he materializes.

"Father!" I don't waste another second in running to him.

This type of happiness is supposed to be a weakness, but I sort of disagree. Even with Algidus there, nothing could cover up the cold, empty feeling I felt during that meeting. The generals are just like Risen, if not for the strong dragon souls deep within them. Even though Father is also a Risen now, he is wrapped up in Mother's energy. It's like feeling them both at once. Sometimes Father hugs me so strongly I feel he is doing it for both of them since Mother cannot afford to show off such weakness to the world.

There's such a strength in this sort of love though. I can do anything with Father and Marc around. I would do anything for Master Grima. I'm not afraid because I have my family. Surely there is some advantage to this sort of feeling. It makes me more powerful!

Father opens one arm, letting me fall into him. Father never held back from affection. It was freely given. He wanted us to learn and respond. So we do, for him and no one else. It's our secret.

"Dad, welcome back!" Marc shouts loudly, hiding the sound of blankets and clutter disappearing among her things. She's a little late trying to hide that music box and all of Mother's things she took. Hopefully Father didn't see.

Father rests his chin on my head, his usual wordless vibrations shaking his arm and chest. It's a warm, happy hum of approval.

"I missed you too!" I smile so hard my cheeks are beginning to hurt!

He kneels down on one leg and holds me back. His eyes glow hotly, looking me up and down for injuries. He huffs strongly, asking for my own confirmation of health.

"I'm fine, really!" I say. "Nothing happened. I told the generals what we agreed upon and that's all. I think they're too frustrated with the Plegian king to care about me."

Marc nearly pushes me over, invading into our space to hog Father's attention from me. I jam my elbow into her rib, but she blocks me with her arm.

"Dad, you took forever! What were you doing?" she babbles, staring greedily at the sack by his side.

Father shakes the bag in his hand making me curious as well. I stare at him feeling the excitement of some sort of gift ready to be revealed. Turns out, Father made a good trip to the keep's larder. He got so much food! Now we don't have to eat rabbit again! At least for a little while.

Better yet, no sheep! Bear meat is okay though. I wish we could have more of that! They're just so hard to find!

The food is a distraction for a little while. With Father being back, it helps Marc forget her fears. But, I know Father is going to want to hear what I have to say. It will probably make him worry more. I think we all know we're going to run out of time. Mother's original plan has more complications than we thought. I know Father wanted us to wait until what he thought was the proper time to speak again, but I don't think we afford to wait anymore. I know Marc agrees with me. We're going to have to talk to Master Grima soon, whether Father wants us to or not. Her future is counting on it.

---

A/N: FYI, Marc was listening to dubstep.

I am dead now. See you next year. Happy Holidays and a healthy New Year to you all.

---

Reviews:

FeelsBadMan - I'm with you, still feeling bad. Ugh. I'm hiding my gaming consoles and uninstalling games off my computer. I'm going to focus on finishing this well before the decade ends. Hm, why worry about if this has a Part One, Two, or Three anymore? You think things are going to happen the same as Awakening anymore?

Ace of Spades - I love late night binge reading. I do it all the time. Happy you enjoyed the story!

Thanks for the advice too. I've had a mention of that before and it was definitely more prevalent in beginning chapters. I've tried to keep an eye on that since I do it rather mindlessly without noticing. I'll double my efforts though!

JamesBCrazy - Yeah, I reread the last ten chapters and not much progress. I concede that. I've moved several chapters around so the next few will now deal with battles and the war's plot progression. I think I've been focusing on the smaller character arcs more. Balancing is a tough part in the writing gig. I give professional authors tons of credit.

3liManning - I hear ya. Yay jobs. I demand the government adds a mandatory siesta to be added to lunches. I need more breaks in the day.

Last few chapters were the turning point in the story for Robin. She's not running anymore. In a sense, she's found what she needs to be as a tactician. Her attitude change is thanks to conversations like this. Also, I couldn't resist another classic twist on one of Robin's supports. It helps Maribelle and Gaius too. Gaius learns that parts of humanity he lost faith in, and maybe bits of himself, still exist. Maribelle has a lot to think about in terms of her future with justice and how there is a gray area in between. It isn't all black and white.

You would be right on both accounts! I added an interlude because people were requesting a shift to the villains and more of their development. Robin's next chapter is indeed about progressing forward in the war. Ylisse and Regna Ferox are on the offense now.

Raiden312 - Gaius' back story is never fully fleshed out, so I had to play around with it a bit from a psychological standpoint. He's typically shown as just a goofy, casual thief with a sugar addiction. I wanted to give a little weight to his history and motivations, without implying too much or too little. He is a man of mystery, after all.

Unfortunately, Chrom takes his duties to heart. He didn't have all those healers chasing him down for nothing. That whole family is stubborn. Robin would be one of the few people I think who could talk him down, aside from Frederick and Emmeryn. Not that it saved him at all. Frederick won that round.

FilthyCommoner – *rubs fog from windows* Oh, hey there! Come on in. I'll get you a nice, steamy cup of feels.

Glad you've enjoyed the characters so far. They've been an interesting set of challenges. In reference to Robin and Lucina that you pointed out, I wanted them to have this strange, yet heartfelt bond where they are constantly trying to step around each others feelings while at the same time inevitably forming a very strong friendship. Not quite family, not quite friends. It's a very unique connection that has formed quite beautifully over the story.

The first question may be spoiler-y so I'll just say try to find an answer in the way Asche talks to Robin. I can definitely say we will see both siblings in the future. They are far from done, especially his sister. She hasn't appeared yet for good reason!

Guest – Robin's comment was more of a joke to herself. She's not manipulating anyone, nor do I plan to make her do so. Friendly advice (like she gave Stahl) is all I plan on her contributing. I removed the quote all together so no one else comes to the implication that's what it meant. Also, Gaius and Maribelle aren't a romantic couple at this point. The only established couples right now are the ones I already confirmed: Vaike/Miriel, Lissa/Lon'qu, Frederick/Emmeryn, Kellam/Raimi. Everyone else is up for debate so I wouldn't worry.

ArcherShirou – You actually sold me on a Donald/Anna pairing. Well done. Donnel has to grow up a little in this story before he starts dating anyone though. He's canonically younger than Lissa, so he's got a few more years.

Oh, nice. A Fate/Zero fic. Time to watch my heart break all over again. I've read the first chapter and bookmarked the rest for later. Thanks for the suggestion!

Xoraan – Thanks so much! I'm always happy to hear someone enjoyed the story. I love the characters to death so I put the most effort in writing their dialogues. One of the few games I can say I enjoyed every character to play with and used equally (barring Lunatic mode).

Yeah, Lucina had it rough. : ( She's getting better.

Have all the free dlc you like! We overpay for pretty much everything anyway. My contribution to the free art movement! I get a lot of questions about Echoes and Fates. I made the storyline up before all the new lore so I'm waiting to see whether it's possible, or worth it, to alter discrepancies in the story. Some might be impossible to add. I've recently got a lot of nudges about Echoes which has me suspicious. I need to finish the game and find out why.

King Keith – I saw Robin and Gaius as potential good buddies from the start just from their equally casual lifestyles. A sort of day-by-day existence. The sweets things definitely helped. Ideally, they have a lot to teach and learn from each other. I think it's a good thing.

Ah, Dragon Age. I had to take a break from that series. It's broken my heart and dumped me way too many times. D:

Frederick was raised since birth being told he was expected to be a royal nanny, so I don't think it fazed him too much. Not until puberty hit and then he was like, "Darn, Emmeryn is kind of pretty." I would certainly feel bad for Emmeryn though. With Lissa so young and being crowned Exalt to boot, she truly had little time to be a child. Feels indeed. They made great parents though.

I'll accept that fake pie though.

EmilykaFairy – Thank you! I try to do some learning everyday to get new words to stick. Verbs continue to be the trickiest to remember. I still get 'pouvoir' and 'prendre' mixed up with their conjugations. It's made translating sentences very confusing sometimes! The only problem with that app is it teaches words that are very similar to each other all at one time. Tricky, but possible.

Why I learned French is a funny, albeit childish, story. I started learning French in high school because I had this dream of becoming a video game designer. I was absolutely set on moving to Canada and working for the company Bioware, which is located in Edmonton in the Canadian province of Alberta. I actually retained the language well and held on to basics after I left high school. I figured it was a waste to forget what I learned and have been working on an off in becoming fluent. There's some influence on this story as well so it was a good excuse to dive back into practicing. I think it's a lovely sounding language anyway!

KP1234 – Aw, now I feel bad because I had another long break right after that quick update for you. Sorry!

I've had some reviews advising I haven't been being as descriptive as I could so the last few chapters have been a slow experiment into me trying to fix this. If you claim it's paying off, I couldn't be happier!

The band was just a happy coincidence. Though when you put it like that, it certainly worked in her favor! Glad you liked them. I did too. I chuckled as I wrote it, wanting some of the old humor to come back in to ease out of the serious conversation of before.

TheFlareBlade – I know a lot of people in the college crunch right now, desperately waiting for the break after finals. I hope all goes well for you!

No problem! It really is a great story! I'm hoping to binge-read and catch up on the latest chapter soon. Keep doing what you do!

friedkimchilover – Aw, thank you! Glad you're still here and enjoying the content! Much appreciated!

Stratoavis – It was Gaius' time to shine this chapter so he deserved a good chance to explain himself. And yes, poor Chrom. Alas, we knew him well! It's bad enough when Frederick is angry, but his sister too? No mercy that evening.

Ragboy7 – A lot of people are looking forward to Tharja. I'm a little anxious so hopefully I do her justice for you all! As a Christmas gift, I shall confirm Priam will be in the story. There's still some time until then, but he will be :)

SmashQueen – Hey, at least Robin can die knowing she tried. They can put a gold star on her tombstone XD

RomanRambler – Hi, thanks for taking the time to read!

I'll admit that I'm an immense sucker for Miriel and Vaike. Huuuge fan. Like, day one confirmed. No regrets at all. No one is set for Virion or Olivia yet, but I do like the dynamic they could have. She's in the running for him, but nothing is for certain. I'll add the vote to the shipping log though.

Mae and Boey are actually really good suggestions for Einherjar. I'm putting together a small list of good candidates per game to potentially appear later on in the story. I haven't really added any to Echoes/Gaiden yet but they are great options when you think about it. Thank you!

I am an immense fan of ancient history, Rome being no exception. I read about history and cultures for fun. Sort of nerdy, but I like old history. It's fascinating to see the pasts that have shaped the modern world I've come to know, as well as explain interesting traditions my family follows. It started as an interest in mythology which led to discovering the societies that formed them and then that was that!

Current count in my word processor is 772,775 words. You can deduct maybe 20,000-30,000 for the reviews I write back to. It's at a total of 1,246 pages. For your Tolkien question, I read everything associated with the Lord of the Rings movies back in the day. I loved the Silmarillion. I really liked Feanor's story and the tragedies following those darn Silmarils of his. The Children of Hurin was good too, though not my favorite of the official stuff.

Thanks for pointing that out. I'll keep an eye out for further mix ups.

Jdt1829 – Ah, TV Tropes. There's many good recommendations on there. I head over every few months to check for new entries on the rec lists. Good stuff!

Thank you for an awesome analysis. It's good to keep up to date on the strengths and weaknesses of the story. I originally intended this to be a character driven plot, hence why I have so much work in understanding and developing the actors. However, the overarching plot has been growing much stronger lately so I've been pushing history to help tie together the grand politics of the war. It's...an intricate mess I've woven. Ha ha.

Grammar slips are my great nemesis along with bizarre misspellings I tend to miss. I'm glad they're not prevalent, but I would like to dismiss them outright. I'll keep working at it. Thanks!

QuoteMyFoot – Thanks again for these amazingly in-depth reviews. I know I messaged you before but I need to convey my appreciation again. The story is due for a grand overhaul in editing which I plan sometime next year. Suffice to say, I'll be adding your suggestions with all the other invaluable ones I have been given by other reviewers. I've already noticed the comma errors occurring quite often and have fixed a lot of them from this last chapter. There's so many other great points made and you are right about them all. I need to make a grand list of bad habits to watch for...

Another thanks for the compliments as well. I love Miriel so I tend to indulge in her chapters immensely. She gets ignored so often in stories and it makes me so mad. Though on that note, Kellam as well. He's hard to work with as a character because the game shoved his gimmick so hard down everyone's throats. Even characters like Gaius or Lon'qu manage to have supports that have more depth to them than their tell-tale traits. The poor guy deserves the screen time. He's a Shepherd too.

I really, really like the coat. It was a rather symbolic twist. A true sign Robin is the same, but different than anything from before. That's among my favorite scenes I've done. A rare moment of peace and genuine human kindness they haven't been able to find as often as they would like in the story. I might reread it again tonight just to gather up the feels once more.

Procrastinator – If you managed to get this far in rereading, welcome back! Hope you enjoyed it as much the second time as you did the first!

SuperSonicSmash – I guess we know what Nowi is getting for her birthday now. Courtesy of Maribelle because it is never proper for a lady to run around in her bare feet.

Animeseris – Ah, more theories. Yes, think about them! Contemplate and revel in the mystery, mwahaha. The truth will come out one way or another, someday. I don't think you will be disappointed when it all comes to light.

hot poteito – Hey, no worries. I'm not expecting reviews. I'm more than happy knowing people are still reading and enjoying what's there. I stink at reviews too. I can only write nice things so it's usually just me reiterating the same point over and over again. But yeah, fifty chapters! Here's to many more!