Chapter 15
The Seeds of a Tumultuous Truth
"For how many centuries have I stood guardian in this place that I have only ever grown to despise? This place that has become a prison built on the betrayal of everything I once knew and believed. This place which is little more than a burial ground for those who once trusted me. Those who in times long since passed proudly referred to me as, Your Highness... those who called me son and brother..."
"I betrayed them, casted them aside in the name of that lying witch and her accursed pets! They were meant to herald a new age as the stewards of her new world, and what does her precious humanity have to show for it!? They multiplied and spread across this shattered realm like a disease! Their propagation only being matched in their vile barbarism!"
"Oppression, enslavement, slaughter, these are but a few of the cruelties they inflict upon my people... and for what!? Because of the blood that runs through our veins!? Because we are kin to those whose madness crippled this world even as we fought to save it!? For so long have I watched my people suffer, their bloodied hands reaching out to me as they desperately cry out for justice... and I will abide it no longer!"
"With every essence of my being I will see to it that mankind's cruelties are repaid a thousand-fold! They will be brought to heel, lashed, and chained down like the rabid animals they are! As they lay there broken, cowering, and pleading humanity will be made to know its new masters, and never again shall another of my kind suffer at the hands of those repugnant beasts!"
"For all the crimes mankind has committed there is another who must be punished. The one for who my rage burns coldly and eternally. The one whose betrayal has earned my infinite hatred. Upon this world of hers I spit the most blackhearted and vile of curses! Death itself shall not have me, not until all she ever dreamed has been reduced to naught but ash! This, I swear."
"I will never forgive you, Naga."
Atris sat in the common room of the Shepherds' barracks the writer's hateful words once more coursing through his mind. But the words themselves weren't the source of the shadow that now hung over him. No, it was where they had come and who had written them that was the cause.
In some corner of his mind, he recognized the bitter irony that the thing he once sought was now the responsible for his dilemma. He had braved the ruins of Pales, a city long since lost and yet seemingly frozen in time. All of this done in the hopes he could recover or rediscover some piece of history forgotten through the ages. And that was exactly what he had found.
It was a book, a historical manuscript to be more precise and it was commissioned by the ruling powers of the time. The manuscript itself had been heavily warded with a magic far beyond the abilities of either him or Miriel, and the knowledge preserved inside of it was just as great, or perhaps, just as terrible
The first of many shocking revelations occurred early in their translation of the manuscript, something which gave Miriel pause. The manuscript's lead author and chief researcher was credited by the name Bramimos, the very same name as one of the fabled Saints who fought alongside the First Exalt so long ago. But that simply couldn't be though.
After some time studying the books magical emanation, they had a rough speculation of its age. Miriel placed the book to be around fourteen-hundred years old, a whole four hundred years before the Fell Dragon, Grima, brought destruction and ruin in its rampage across the world.
Was it just a simple coincidence that the name of the saint who was supposed to extoll curiosity, ingenuity, and the pursuit of learning would be found on a historical manuscript dated before his time? After some deliberation the two of them decided to drop the matter for now and continue with their translation. They hoped more would be revealed in time.
As they continued to translate more of this Bramimos's works they were amazed at what they discovered. The book told them of a world that was distinct from their own, a world free from conflict and suffering. It was like a cross between an idealist's vision and a child's fantasy, something that seemed nigh impossible to accept.
However, their time spent in that fantasy was short lived as they soon plummeted to a more grim and grounded reality. This world was broken upon the knee of a terrible cataclysm that would dwarf all others that came after it. The world lay shattered, irreparably broken in a way that no means be it material or magical could ever heal it and so it was a new world was born.
In the wake of this new world the survivors were left to inherit an anxiety which would give way to grief, resentment, and ultimately hatred. These emotions rooted themselves deep within the survivors polluting their minds and spirits as they vented these corrupted feelings upon each other in the form of increasing cruelty and ever-growing atrocities.
Many heroes would rise to stand in the way of such turmoil. Yet, with each of their passings their legacies would begin to crumble only to be ultimately washed away by the next oncoming tide of violence and strife. This seemingly endless cycle would perpetuate until it finally culminated into a single act of such wickedness that it made him physically ill to read it and left Miriel.
He wanted to disbelieve what he had read; he wanted to believe they had made a mistake. But no matter how many times they retranslated the book its words remained the same. The fact was that what lay before him was the truth, and that was book's entire purpose, to convey the truth no matter how ugly or even if it angered the powers that be.
Scouring the continent several times over the only thing that matched this Bramimos's dogged pursuit of the truth was the meticulous manner in which he documented the findings of his research. Bramimos in his findings had unearthed a great many things and amongst these things was the source of the vengeful words that earlier ran through his mind.
It was the last recorded testament of humanities' first sworn enemy, the Shadow Dragon, Medeus. The account was from a time before the dragon would ever wear such titles, and before the rise of his Empire of Dolhr whose legions twice over ravaged the continent bringing immeasurable misery in the process.
All this pain, all this destruction was committed by the reviled dragon purely for the ambitious desire to reshape the world as its new master, and in the process the lesser beast known as humanity would become the eternal slaves of his new empire. At least that was how the stories of today told of the legend anyway.
Atris looked up from the table, his eyes focusing on Nowi. The young dragon girl was sitting in a chair kicking her feet happily as Sumia talked to her. Was the girl's demeanor simply a facade, or... Gods above, did she truly not know?
The thought of even telling Chrom, the person he did all of this for had left him anxious and dreading how the prince would react to this rediscovered knowledge. If he couldn't tell Chrom though, how could even tell her? Did he even have any right to tell her, and if he did how could he begin to? How could he possibly tell her that-.
"A...s?" He blinked at the strange sound and it took him a moment to realize that room was utterly silent.
"Aaatris?" Again, he blinked this time picking up at the singsong way in which his name was spoken. Shaking his head the common room of the Shepherd's barracks suddenly came to life as the voices of nearly a dozen people suddenly sprang out of nowhere.
Looking over to where the sound of his name had come from Lissa, the young woman's head tilted slightly as she stared at him a look of worry clear in her eyes. Alongside her were Sully and Vaike, both of them wearing similar looks of concern.
"You good there? You haven't been actin' exactly like yourself lately." Sully asked taking a seat across from him as Lissa sat next to her.
"I'm fine I... just kind of keep getting lost in my head is all." He honestly hated lying, especially when the truth was so obvious. Ever since the discovery of the manuscript he had been evading his friends, first in secret to avoid its discovery and then in...
Huh, he really didn't know what to call the emotions he felt right now. All he knew was he felt a sense of bitterness and a longing for his previous ignorance. As he started to get lost in his thoughts again, he felt someone's palm on his head as they shook his head lightly.
"Look buddy if somethin's got ya down you can talk to me! The Vaike is a great listener." Sully scoffed in response as Lissa rolled her eyes at the man. "What!?" Vaike exclaimed taken aback, his voice breaking pitch.
"Oh, yea you're really good at 'listening' Vaike. The problem is whether anything stays in there or if it just oozes out the other ear." Sully started laughing at Lissa's words as Vaike pounded his fist on the table.
"That is absolutely untrue! Man, you guys are just being unfair today!" Vaike shot back his voice breaking pitch again. Grumbling, the man dismissively swatted one of his huge hands in the direction of the girls.
He didn't know why, perhaps it was the incredible self-assuredness in the way Vaike spoke at first or the banter between his friends, but he felt the shadow of a smile creep up on him. Noticing this Vaike shot him a grin and gave him a slap on his back that jolted him forward.
"Sometimes ya need time to yourself, I get it. But the whole lone wolf schtick isn't really you, ya know?" Vaike said giving him a thumbs up when suddenly their hand plopped down to the table with a smack. The grin form before replaced by a blank, listless look. "Huh, speakin' of that I wonder where Lon'qu is at?"
As Atris opened his mouth to answer Vaike the door to the common room suddenly jolted open, slamming into the wall, and after a moment or two Chrom stepped through it. The prince's face was completely beet red and their eyes were furiously scanning the room until they finally seemed to land on him.
"Y-y-you..." The prince stammered out lowly as they took a single and incredibly threatening step in his direction.
Stumbling out of his chair in response, Atris took a step back and waved his hands in front of himself to ward off his friend. However, it was at this time he caught an all too familiar glint in their eyes. His gesture of surrender was pointless and he knew it. Whatever was coming next was coming and he had no say in the matter.
Still, he didn't know what exactly was the cause of all of this, but he did know that he wasn't particularly fond of the way Chrom was cracking his knuckles. Taking another step back he spotted a bunch of crinkled papers at this friend's feet. Squinting his eyes, he saw that they weren't just papers but posters... posters of Chrom.
Posters of which rather incredibly (and tastefully) depicted Chrom in all his "natural" glory. In one hand the prince mightily and heroically held aloft the legendary Falchion, while the other held a set of weighted scales in order to... creatively obscure the other set of the halidom's crown jewels. At the bottom of the poster just underneath the scales in boldened black with an outline of gold were the words, "It's time to tip the scales for Ylisse!"
Perhaps it was the ludicrous way in which he had hyper realistically drawn Chrom, or perhaps it was the fact that such a thing was contrasted by such a dumb pun but he couldn't take his eyes off the posters. And as he kept staring at them something started to build up in him that he hadn't felt in a while.
He tried to fight it but his body soon started to shudder as the pressure to keep it all locked in him was simply too much for him to endure. Letting out a dry wheeze of a laugh Atris slapped his knee and doubled over as he lost himself completely in a fit of unrestrained laughter. It wasn't much longer after that when his back hit the floor, hard.
Chrom had broken out into a sprint and in a single leap cleared the table separating them. Tackling him to the ground, the two of them starting to brawl it out right then and there on the floor. It wasn't long before the two of them devolved into a rolling ball of chaos and swearing that threatened to (and often did) upturn any furniture unfortunate enough to get in their way
As the two of them continued to wreck the room a few of the Shepherds decided to try and break them apart. However, the moment the would-be interlopers got too close intervene a voice sharply cried out and caught everyone's attention. Even Chrom who had him on his knees and wrapped painfully in a headlock jerked him into the direction of where the voice had come from.
"U-um..." A voice who could only be Sumia's stuttered out, and if the woman's tone was any indicator her face was again utterly flushed. Also, maybe it was just his imagination, but he could've sworn the woman's legs were quivering slightly. "P-perhaps its best we just leave them be! L-let them get out of their system, y'know!?"
As the woman's words died down there was this almost drunken slur of stifled snorting that soon exploded into stream of rambunctious laughter. Rowdily, Gregor started clapping and cheering at the whole asinine affair. Thankfully the older mercenary's eagerness served as a distraction as while Atris still couldn't quite escape from Chrom's stranglehold on him there was something he could do.
Forcing his head upward, Atris opened his mouth as wide as he could and sunk his teeth right into the flesh of the prince's bicep. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but soon he felt friend's arm quiver and he heard a string of stifled groans of pain escape them as Chrom did his best to keep a lid on things. The act didn't last long though, the prince unable to take it any longer let out a scream that sounded like some kind of raspy bird call.
"Damn it! That hurt you cheeky f-!" Chrom shouted out as they tried to escape. However, the prince's words were cut off as he jammed his elbow in their gut and shoved them back.
Finally getting some breathing room, Atris got back to his feet only for him to get swept right off them again. Tackling him right back onto the ground, Chrom was trying to wrestle their way back on top of him. Through sheer tenacity he managed to fight his friend off the first time and found himself right on his back.
With an annoyed growl Chrom lunged forward to pile back on top of him, though he was prepared for it this time. Managing to catch the man's chest with his feet Atris kicked him off and sent them flying into a nearby table toppling both of them over.
Panting, he scrambled to his feet only to see the blue-haired royal already back on theirs. Even with the busted lip there was no denying the smugness in the prince's grin. Rolling their shoulders almost nonchalantly, Chrom folded their arms and leaned forward slightly.
"Anyone ever tell you that you fight freaking dirty?" All he could do was playfully smile back and give a seemingly irreverent shrug at the accusation.
"What's the matter, am I pushing you to your limits or something?" Atris retorted as he rubbed the back of his head. Chrom scoffed at the words but that smug grin never left their face.
"Hardly, if anything I'm just getting started."Chrom said, his grin growing larger as he leaned slightly forward, and with an outstretched hand beckoned him. "So, stop playing around and make me actually work for this, Atris."
He couldn't help but share the prince's cocky grin, that same feeling of from before building up in him as he broke out in a sprint with his own victory in mind. Unfortunately, his charge was short lived as Chrom caught him and using his momentum body slammed him back onto the ground.
Just like it had started their brawl soon resumed right back on the floor, albeit this time with a less silent audience. Finally picking up on how utterly unserious this all a number of the Shepherds started to cheer them on, Vaike in particular shouting advice at whoever was the underdog on the moment.
In hindsight someone probably should've stepped in at this point. Not because he thought there was any genuine risk of there being bad blood between him and Chrom. No, it was more so they were both just too stubborn to give up, especially with a crowd now watching. Also, things might've been getting ever so slightly out of control given how wild some of their punches were landing.
Atris hadn't heard it at the moment, but for a second time the door to the Shepherds' barracks as someone stormed in and started barking orders. Just as he managed to finally wrestle down Chrom that someone from before stepped in. A cold metal gauntlet grasped the collar of his shirt as he was roughly yanked off the prince.
The look of shock on Chrom's face at the sudden end of their childish tussle was instantly replaced with fiery indignation. Quickly rising to his feet, the blue-haired royal opened his mouth to speak when that same fire suddenly went out and a sheepish smile took its place.
Finally deciding to look behind him, Atris saw it was none other than Frederick who had broken them up. The knight's face was flushed with anger and his eyes were narrowed to little more than slits. Looking back to Chrom all he could do was let out a nervous chuckle as the prince uttered out a destressed groan at what was to come next.
There was really only one person who had any authority over either of them. After all, Chrom was quite literally the heir to the halidom and he... well... Atris in practice was nothing more than the... "tactician" of the Shepherds a lone military unit outside the purview of anyone but Chrom himself. But that seemed to be changing.
He had heard the whispers that only seemed to be growing louder. They referred to him as the "prince's personal tactician", some of them even daring to refer to him as the "royal tactician". As much as he didn't want to admit it Sullivan's words were becoming more and more real. It was a strange to think that at one time all of this might've made him swell with pride.
"Tactician"... the word had once been a great many things to him. It had been a simple role to fulfill, a badge that validated his own cleverness, it had even become a part of his own identity for a time.
Now though... the word was a dirty one, stained in the blood of everyone who died because of him at Whistler's Pass. Hearing the word only now caused his stomach to painfully knot up, and he didn't dare refer to himself as such even in his most personal thoughts. But right now, he had other things to worry about them his own insecurities.
The two of them were more or less dragged in front of Emmeryn by Frederick. As the knight explained the circumstances in which he found them, Emmeryn cast a single sidelong glance that caused him to shrink back.
It always baffled him how the woman could make him feel like such a small child with but a single glance. However, he did take some solace in the fact Chrom felt the same way given he also wilted underneath his sister's gaze.
It took a moment or two, but after Frederick finally took his leave Chrom found his voice and tried to explain things. He tried to reassure his sister that all that had been going on between the two of them was more or less just a friendly tussle that got out of hand, and he did so all the while neglecting to even bring up the poster incident that started the whole thing.
It was weird how Chrom covering for him both made him thankful and even more ashamed that he got them in this incident to begin with. Suddenly he felt his friend wrap his arm around his neck as they tried to get him to speak up in support.
Unfortunately to his shame he simply couldn't speak even as the prince started to anxiously jerk him back forth in an attempt to get him to say something, anything. Chrom's body went rigid and the color in his face drained as Emmeryn sharply called out his name. However, Chrom's body slackened as they looked over to see his sister smiling softly at them
"I believe you; I really do Chrom. With that said times are tense, too tense for the halidom's prince to be getting into fights and walking around like he just got out of some bar brawl. Even something as innocent as what you say may be construed as something else and used to weaken us."
"I..." Chrom bit his lip and gave a short nod. "Yea, you're right Emm. I'm sorry."
"Thank you, Chrom. If you wouldn't mind though, I would like to have a moment alone with Atris."
Confusion flitted across the prince's face followed by concern and then what Atris dreaded most of all curiosity. It was only after a reassuring nod from Emmeryn that Chrom finally departed, but not before casting one last cursory glance that lingered a bit too long on Atris.
They were alone now and the silence between the two became increasingly uncomfortable and awkward, especially given they had just met the night before. What he at the time thought would've been nothing more than a chance meeting at midnight between the two had become something more, the two of them meeting up almost every other night since then.
There had been little he could do to hide his surprise the first time Emmeryn approached him to continue their moonlit rendezvous, and embarrassingly enough there was even less he could do to hide his excitement at seeing her again.
However, to see that slight smile that lit up her face, the faint narrowing of her eyes as if to hide the silent energy within them. Whatever embarrassment he suffered, the warmth that flooded his chest told him it was worth it, and it had been. The dark thoughts that had been plaguing him lately seem to vanish during the moments they spent together late at night.
With a sharp sigh Emmeryn finally broke the silence, her eyes focusing intently on him while his own flittered about the room. Eventually, they had nowhere else to go and soon enough his eyes met hers and like a trap he was ensnared by those brilliant jade depths of hers.
"I hope you know that everything I said goes for you as well," Emmeryn said.
"I... I really don't know what else to say besides I'm sorry for making a mess of things." The woman's gaze softened at his words; the intensity replaced with a mixture of disappointment and gloomy weariness.
"You're not the only one who should be apologizing. I'm sorry, Atris." The woman's words stumped him as he stammered out a string of nonsensical noises until he finally could force the words out.
"W-wait, why are you apologizing to me?"
"When Chrom asked for my approval in making you the tactician of the Shepherds they were a simple and small militia group that fought off mere bandits and raiders. But I lacked foresight, and things have changed so quickly. Worst of all I fear I'm the one responsible for all this, for putting you all on what will be a painful path."
"You can't seriously be blaming yourself for the situation involving Plegia?" Atris asked, his words growing so hoarse that by the end he was forced to clear his throat. The mere mention of the word "tactician", just having that label put on him made his throat go dry.
"How could I not, Atris? Every attempt I've made to mediate or avoid it has only ended in failure." Emmeryn paused and cast her eyes downward.
"Ever since the announcement of Regna Ferox and Ylisse's alliance the ruler of Plegia, King Gangrel has rejected all our missives and henceforth severed all communications between us. I put him in a corner, I gave him an ultimatum, and this is the result..."
"Even still, I absolutely refuse to let you blame yourself for this!" Atris nearly shouted out, the fire in his words burning hot. As Emmeryn looked up at him, the fire from his previous words leeched into his cheeks as he cleared his throat with a cough.
"Sorry if that was a bit much I just... it's not right. I-"
"It's fine, Atris. I understand what you're trying to say." Again, she cast a weary smile. Something was different about this one though. There was a light in it that seemed to grow ever-brighter. "You really are rather sweet, you know?"
"Oh, um, thanks. I'm just glad to be of some use, I guess." Atris said as he started to rub the back his neck embarrassed.
"You've done far more than that. You've reminded me of something I had forgotten, something incredibly important. That said, I fear I might have taken up too much of your time. After all-" The smile on Emmeryn's face shifted into a smirk as a familiar twinkle shined in her jade-green eyes. "I'm sure Chrom is getting rather anxious about what is taking so long.
As Emmeryn spoke the memory of the prince's eyes lingering a bit too long on him flashed through his mind. A surge of panic started to rush through him as his body went rigid and he gave a rather awkward a clumsy salute to the now clearly amused exalt and excused himself.
Stiffly walking out into the hallway, the door suddenly slammed behind him. Jumping almost clear across the hallway his heart was pounding out of his chest as he turned around to see a silver-haired woman in golden plate standing guard at the door.
Phila, the captain of the royal guard and commander of the Order of the Rainbow Zeyphr otherwise known as the pegasus knights. Unlike her subordinate's such as Knight Rin or Cordelia the woman was like a stoic sheet of ice, ever solemn in duty and unbending in manners of protocol and procedure.
However, it seemed like even she possessed some manner of humor as she didn't bother to hide the rather pleased look on her face at what just happened. Silently, Phila gestured with her eyes in the direction that Chrom was waiting. Still feeling rather sore of the trick he could only grumble out his thanks to the woman who didn't bother to respond.
Meeting up with Chrom, he found the prince leaning against a wall just round the corner attempting to whistle. He'd been at it for a while if the frustration on his face was any indicator. Gently, Atris rapped his knuckles on the wall to let his friend know he was there.
"I didn't know you couldn't whistle." Atris said as Chrom pushed himself off the wall and approached him.
"Yea, it's always been a massive pet peeve of mine." Chrom replied with a sigh
"You could always ask Lissa to teach you, I'm sure she'd be willing." A dismissive scoff came from the prince as they shook their head at the suggestion
"Oh-ho-ho, that's funny! In all seriousness, I'd rather be spared that special brand of torture." Folding his arms Chrom looked at him and started tapping his foot. "So...?"
"So...?"
"Don't start this with me again Atris you know what I'm talking about. What did Emm want to discuss with you?"
"Erm... Well, nothing you didn't hear already." Chrom cocked his eyebrow as Atris reached back to scratch the back of his head. "What? All she did was basically tell me that everything that goes for you goes for me too."
"That's... it?" His friend asked as their arms slowly fell to their side.
"Yea, that's it."
"Huh..." There was a strange tone in Chrom's voice that he couldn't place as they let out a sigh and shook their head. "Well... not like it really mattered anyway. Come on, walk with me."
The two silently walked side-by-side as they seemed to almost aimlessly wander about the palace. Not that he minded it, if anything he was just glad that the two of them were hanging around one another again. Heck, he hadn't even so much as seen his friend since the joint celebrations they had last week.
It had been a bit of a surprise to learn that Ricken and Chrom's birthdays were less than a week apart. With none of the young mage's family living in the capital, Sumia the kind heart that she was decided to organize a joint celebration so that Ricken wouldn't feel left out. Of course, that embarrassingly meant that was two birthday's he showed up empty-handed to.
"Hey, Chrom." Atris said finally ending their silent walk.
"Hm?"
"I'm, um... I'm sorry about the whole poster thing." Chrom suddenly stopped walking and stood silent for several moments.
"You should've given the posters to Sully." Chrom finally said through a grumble.
"W-what?"
"You should've given the posters to Sully!" The prince barked out. All he could do was stare at his friend, his brain trying to process just what they meant by that.
"Wait... are you saying that you wanted Sully to see you-" Atris let out a sharp yelp as Chrom socked him right in the shoulder.
"Of course not you ass!" The prince almost hissed, his cheeks going a deep red. With a groan Atris rubbed his shoulder to soothe away the pain as Chrom folded their arms and tried to calm down.
"Sully would've at least been discreet in where she put them. Frederick though... Naga above, he posted those things all throughout the palace! I was running around like a madman trying to tear them down before anyone saw them!"
"Uh... my bad? Heh, heh, eh..." Atris replied awkwardly. Strangely though his friend smiled at him.
"There is a silver lining to all this though. I've been in a rather, well, there's really no hiding it. I've been in a rather dark mood lately. But after everything that's happened today, I don't know I just feel like my head's clearer."
"I'm pleased that the pummeling my kidneys took has put you in a better mood." Atris said, the sarcasm dripping in his words as Chrom rolled their eyes and chuckled in response. "That said there's got to be a way to go about this that's easier on the body... and safer for the furniture."
"Well, you could always finally decide to spar with me. You've been ducking out on it forever now."
"We both know I'm not as skilled as you with a sword."
"So? A few of the other Shepherds aren't quite at my level yet and that doesn't stop them. Besides you're an incredibly scrappy fighter and what you lack in skill you make up for in quick thinking. My arm is proof of that after all..." Chrom said shooting him a sidelong glance.
Atris let out an awkward chuckle and started to rub the back of his neck in response to the prince's gesture.
"Alright, why not? I mean it's not like we'll end up putting a hole in the outer wall or something, y'know?" Atris joked, but all Chrom did in response was give him this incredibly odd stare.
"Hey, Chrom. Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yea, I'm fine just... you know what never mind!" The prince replied rather hastily back.
The two spent the next twenty or so minutes talking when suddenly Chrom pounded the underside of his fist into his open palm. A spirited smile sprouting up on his friend's face as he declared that they should, "Strike while the iron was hot!". Cocking his brow at the prince, he questioned just what they had meant by that.
It wasn't long after the two of them started making plans for a small outing on the city tomorrow. Atris really didn't know Ylisstol too well and while Chrom wasn't exactly a tour guide there were parts of the city that they wanted to show him. As they continued to make plans Atris knew there was no denying how strange the day was, but he was happy it happened all the same.
Still, even if he wasn't too familiar with the city there was a place he wanted to visit before tomorrow and that's exactly where he set off to once the two of them had finished their plans. After all, something else had been bothering him, something that only frustrated him more the longer he went without it. In short, he wanted his damn coat back! Or at the very least something akin to it!
Stopping in his tracks, he mulled over the rather odd anxiety he felt whenever he was without his coat. It was strange, he had felt no sense of attachment to the other clothes he had awoken in. While he had grown fond of his old lightning tome it had been little more than just that, and as for his sword...
Gripping the hilt tightly he felt a dreamy sense of nostalgia over the blade that he didn't quite understand. Still, it didn't give him the same sense of security as his coat did. As juvenile as it sounded the coat was almost like a child's security blanket to him, something that conjured faint feelings of warmth, comfort and... something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Shaking his head to clear away the ever-crowding thoughts in his head, Atris continued on towards the entrance of the palace. He'd have time to think more on this when he wasn't distracted by this damn anxiety.
Arriving at the palace's main entrance a kindly servant stopped what they were doing and rushed over to open the doors for him. Flustered slightly at the gesture Atris thanked them and stepped outside. As strange as today had been his fortunes seemed to be turning around, or so he thought anyway.
As he stepped outside the palace, he took a moment to enjoy the sun's warmth on his face when something heavy came to rest on his shoulder. Atris froze in place, the previous warmth doing nothing combat the chill that ran up his spine as he slowly started to recognize the thing on his shoulder was a plated gauntlet. Even worse he knew there was only one person it could belong to.
"F-F-Frederick!" Atris yelped out in surprise as he leapt out of the man's grasp. Turning around, he came to meet the knight's stony gaze. "S-sorry about that you just- um, you just startled me."
However, Frederick didn't respond, and no matter what Atris said all the knight did was continue with that same silent and unblinking stare that pierced right through him. Much like his earlier brawl with Chrom, Atris knew there was no avoiding what was going to happen and accepted his fate.
"You're going to run me into the ground with drills, aren't you?" Atris asked unable to keep to the dread out of his voice
"Enough to dig a hole and properly bury you in it." Frederick finally spoke with a steely tone. Another shiver went down his spine as the corner of the knight's mouth turned up ever so slightly into an uncharacteristic smile. "I must admit, I'm curious if you'll be able to climb out of it."
Pain. That was the only thing that could describe his state of being as he felt himself falling onto his bed later that night. Breathing hurt, smelling hurt, he was pretty sure that simply thinking hurt, and the only thing that dulled it was the fatigue induced delirium he was going through.
Frederick had really run him into the ground and while the hole he ended up digging might've not been real it was definitely deep enough to bury him. Still in the end he had managed to climb out and endured the gauntlet he was put through.
However, as he lay there unable to get up after enduring Frederick's gauntlet a force suddenly seized him up. Maybe it was the delirium at this point, but it seemed like a certain knight was begrudgingly carrying him to the Shepherds' barracks. Whether it was fatigue induced dream or not, Atris decided it would probably be best not to provoke Frederick for a while.
The next day came and with it came soreness followed by disgust when Atris realized he had fallen asleep in the same sweat soaked clothes he had trained in. Scrubbing himself free of all the grime and filth from yesterday, Atris walked out of the washroom and breathed a contented sigh.
He didn't know how long he had spent washing himself, but it seemed like the majority of the palace's staff and servants seemed to up and starting their morning tasks. Figuring it would still be a bit before the tailor shop opened, Atris set out to take in some of the sights of Ylisstol.
The palace itself stood upon a steep hill that overlooked Lake Ylisstol and was surrounded by decorative inner wall and a more defendable outer curtain wall that isolated it from the city that surrounded it. Gleaming, white stone served as the base for the palace's construction with numerous marbled ornamentations and statues housed within the carefully crafted crevices and niches that dotted the structure.
The thing he found the most interesting though were that numerous spires that lay scattered across the palace, each of them furnished with a rather familiar blue tile. It almost reminded him of the tiles that decorated the palace in Pales. Although unlike those in Pales time had clearly affected these tiles, many of them having lost the brilliant luster they once had.
Descending from the palace and entering into the city proper this district of the city contained the various estates of the aristocracy and institutions important to both kingdom and religion. However, of all the buildings he found only three were of true interest and he was rapidly coming up on the first.
Many churches and places of worship resided within the holy city and capital of the halidom. However, one would stand towering, unmatched in both splendor and significance. The Grand Basiliké of the Heavenly Mother and the Exalted Light. More commonly it was referred to Great Cathedral of Naga by the ordinary folk and served as the chief center of Naga worship within the entire halidom. It also served as the seat for the Hierarch, the head priest of the religion
The cathedral was a massive spherical building that seemed to almost be reaching for the sky and was composed of that same gleaming, white rock that served in the palace's construction. Straddling the cathedral's perimeter were four towers, each of them aligned along the four cardinal directions. Looking towards the roof of the cathedral he saw it was topped by a grand dome made of polished brass that shined like a miniature sun..
This alongside the white stone made it seem like a gentle light was radiating from the structure itself. Despite the size and majesty of the building it was rather sparce on outside ornamentation relying mostly on columns, arches and the carving of the stone itself largely for decoration.
A soft chuckle escaped him as Atris and walked away from the cathedral towards his next destination. He didn't know why but a strange and silly thought of the splendid building being a kind of lighthouse popped in his head.
It took some time as while the Grand Basiliké resided closer to the palace his next stop would take him all the way to the eastern end of the district, and while it wasn't the sky touching titan he had just visited it was no less impressive. Briefly stopping at a nearby public gazebo he was just able to see it over the roofs of the nearby estates, the world-famous Lyceum.
The Lyceum was sprawling complex of numerous buildings that occupied the eastern end of the district in its entirety, and housed within it was the largest collection of knowledge in the entire continent. Scholars, researchers, philosophers, and all manner of truth seekers journeyed the world over to visit this repository of wisdom and comprehension.
There was also another type that was attracted by the knowledge and possible the Lyceum had to offer, mages. Within the Lyceum stood the single largest collective of mages in the continent with only Plegia's Consortium possibly rivaling it size. It would be these mages that would in times past found the Academy of Revelations, the greatest institution dedicated to the mastery of the arcane arts within all of the halidom.
One might wonder what it was that drew so many dedicated to learning and understanding to this specific spot, and the answer was both simple and incredible. The Lyceum predated the city of Ylisstol. It was one of only six structures on the continent that dated back to the times of Old Archanea and somehow survived the Fell Dragon's devastation of the old world.
Many believed that due to the Lyceum's presence that Ylisstol was built upon the remnants of Archanea's once glorious capital Pales. Of course, the truth was that Pales somehow resided under Lake Ylisstol so it was little wonder they never uncovered anything of the Lyceum's origin or of Pales true fate.
Still, even knowing the truth of Pales did little to dissuade Atris from wanting to uncover the secrets of the Lyceum. Had something protected it from Grima's rampage, or it was down to simply dumb luck? What was the purpose of such a thing given it was located so far away from any kind of known civilization at the time?
As he departed the mysterious complex, Atris hoped that one day he might just solve a few of the Lyceum's riddles for himself even if he knew the majority of its mysterious would be forever beyond his grasp
Reaching the southern end of the Upper District as he taken to calling it, he came to yet another curtain wall that cordoned the entire area from the rest of the lower city. Just ahead of him was the final stop of his little venture before he would head straight to the tailors.
There it stood, mighty and imposing. Before him was a citadel built into the curtain wall that took the shape of the letter c. The very edges of the citadel which should've closed in on itself were instead flanged out almost as if weather any attack that dare threaten the district behind it. This was headquarters of the Order of the Great Knights.
The citadel served as the main checkpoint to entering and existing the Upper District, and in times past one could not even enter the area without the proper credentials. As he understood it though Emmeryn and the current hierarch, Michael of Laven lifted a great many restrictions so that the common person might find solace and prayer within the walls of the Grand Balisiké.
As Atris left the Upper District and entered in the main part of the city, he cast another glance back to the ever-enduring citadel. The Great Knights as an order were supposedly created by the legendary Saint Kein, and while the man was the primer knight of his time the way Frederick described him the saint was also an artist, a visionary who strove to inspire creativity and imagination and yet...
Atris found none of that in the citadel. If anything, it seemed to almost run counter to the great wall that not only shielded the entire city, but also uplifted the spirits and inspired the minds of any who gazed upon its brilliant murals. The citadel was a thing hewn roughly from the rock it had come from, cold, barren, and lifeless.
"Argh! I'm overthinking things again." Atris groaned out as he started to tap the tip of his boot on the cobblestone. Eventually though, he shook the thoughts from his head and continued on his way.
Even for a city Ylisstol was incredibly large with it dwarfing almost every other city on the continent. At its height under Emmeryn's grandfather a census declared that nearly five hundred-thousand people resided within the city.
While that number would come to sharply decline under the previous exalt, the city was now experiencing a resurgence in both population and prosperity thanks to a number of reforms and edicts painstakingly passed by Emmeryn and her closest advisors.
Had it not been for the raids by Plegia or the sudden and widespread attacks by the Risen then perhaps Ylisse itself might be just like its capital and well on the way to recovery. Even though he knew there was little to nothing he could do to stop either of them right now the thought persisted and continued to bother him as he continued onward.
Due to Ylisstol's size the city contained three centralized areas regulated to trade and commerce. That's not to say one couldn't find little outlier shops or stalls like Anna's, just that most business tended to congregate around these three areas. Of the three though, the one Atris headed to resided on the western end of the city.
Of the three trading districts the western one was the smallest and was dominated by a large colorful plaza laid entirely in brick. At its heart lay a lofty looking elm with limbs so outstretched that they somehow covered the entire plaza in shade. Beneath the cool darkness cast by the elm numerous vendors and stalls were set up as each cried out fervently in the hopes one would check their wares.
Walking closer to the tree, Atris looked at its trunk. It was a large and gnarled thing, like some malformed giant's fist slamming into the ground. Continuing to gaze upon the tree, Atris felt something coming to him, almost like a memory! However, the feeling quickly faded and Atris let out a quiet, frustrated growl as he walked away from the tree and to the door of the tailor shop.
Stepping into the shop he saw a man dressed in an assortment of cool, colorful clothing hunched over the counter writing something. A dark green cap with rainbow-like plumage rested atop their head. Their eyes raised at the sound of the door opening and with a warm smile the man greeted him.
"Oh! Hello there, how may I help you today?" The man asked setting his quill down next to a piece parchment. Standing up straight, the man's well-fitted clothes did much to distract from his rather lanky form.
"Yes, I've come to check up on my order. Last time I was here it was a woman with- I want to say cherry-blonde hair? Anyway, she gave me this." Atris answered back as he grabbed a scrap of paper from his pocket and placed it on the counter.
"That must've been Rissa, my head apprentice." The tailor said with a rather jolly tone as he looked the lanky man up and down.
"Aren't you a bit young to be taking on apprentices?"
"Ha! True I'm just shy of my thirtieth year, but when you meet others with the same passion and talent who am I to... turn... them-" The man's word began to trail off and ultimately died as he looked at the scrap of paper.
"Is everything okay, sir?" Atris asked, his question jolting the man back to reality.
"Oh. Yes. Everything is fine la- I mean, sir. Just um, wanted to make sure of something. You're Atris, correct? Paid mostly in Feroxi gold?" Atris nodded to each question as sense of unease started to grow in the back of his mind. "Well now, isn't that ironic? I was about to send for you, too. If you'll just wait a moment, I'll be right back."
With that the tailor walked away and the sense of unease grew with every minute that passed until he started to panic. Why had the man acted so weirdly to him? Did something happen to his coat? Had it been damaged somehow or perhaps gods above stolen!? The thought of never seeing it again made him sick to his stomach.
"Sir?" It took him entirely too long to register not only the tailor's voice, but the fact they had been standing there with a bundle in their hands. "I'd like to show you one of the two finished products."
Walking from around the counter, the tailor gently undid the bundle and laid out the coat on a nearby table tenderly as he began to smooth it out. Atris's eyes widened as he looked at the reproduction and reached out to touch it. As his fingers glided against the fabric his breath came out in a long shudder, the panic from before flowing out of him. It looked just like, felt just like it. Gods, even the smell was almost the same.
"I have to admit what you've done here is amazing!" Atris said giddily, as the tailor nodded with a small and prideful smile.
"I'm overjoyed that you're happy with it. I must admit I've been utterly fascinated with the coat the moment I laid eyes on it. It was more like making art than clothing." The tailor said running his own fingers against the fabric, and for some reason abruptly tore his hand from the coat when it came close to one of the golden threaded cuffs. "That said it is missing an incredibly precious material, and I apologize that I couldn't acquire it."
"What could possibly be missing?" The tailor's face scrunched up at the question and his eyes darted to the side briefly.
"Valencian silk." There was a strange tone in the man's words as if that was supposed to mean something. All Atris could do though was tilt his head in confusion, the tailor's odd demeanor slowly shifting into one similar to his own.
"Never heard of it." Atris said plainly. The tailor's mouth was now slightly agape, and he stared at Atris as if he were some bizarre three-headed creature.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I've never heard of Valencian silk before. Recently I heard of a place called Valencia, I'm assuming the two are connected?"
"You've... never heard of Valencia either? Forgive me, but is this some kind of odd joke?"
An exasperated groan escaped Atris as he gave a brief explanation of his amnesiac state to the tailor. It was hard to tell whether the man believed him or not as they simply continued to stare incredulously at him. However, the man's face softened somewhat as he leaned back against the counter.
"Well then, I suppose I'll take you at your word then. Even if it is a bit..."
"Preposterous?"
"I wasn't going to use such harsh wording, but yes."
"If it's not too much a bother, would you mind telling me about this place? You seem to at least know of it." A smile cracked across the tailor's face as they took off their hat, a small curtain of curly, reddish-brown hair spilling out around their face as they did so.
"Valencia... where even to begin? Well, you see there is a large grouping of islands off the southeast coast of Plegia called the Attican Islands. Legend has it they were once part of the mainland until the Fell Dragon, Grima ripped them from the land. The largest of these islands is the Isle of Rinth, and that is where Valencia resides.
"The city itself is a massive port city where merchants the world over travel to and fro. From Valm to even Plegia's own trade cities, none are as grand nor splendid as the great jewel that is Valencia. Heck, half of the city is built over the water itself forming a giant manmade bay that serves as the city's main entryway!"
"That's incredible! How could such a city even come to be!?"
"You know about the Great Divide, yes?"
"That's the ocean that separates the continents of Ylisse and Valm? I know of it, but that's about it." The tailor nodded with a smile and beckoned him over. The man began to make tracings on the counter with his finger as he explained.
"So, in south where Valencia sits the waters are warmer and the weather far more predictable. Not to say they don't have storms, they're just easier to manage. However, the more north you go particularly between Regna Ferox and Northern Valm the waters are colder, rougher and storms spring out of nowhere churning the waves even worse. The Scarred Sea, they've long taken to calling it."
"That said, it's not just the weather that makes Valencia such an attractive stop. The Isle of Rinth serves as the perfect way-stop between the continents allowing merchants to restock provisions, rest, or even sell off their stock and allow the Valencians or other Atticans to make the rest of the journey while they make an early return home."
"In short, Valencia sits atop the most lucrative shipping lane in the entire known world, and believe me it shows." A smirk started to form across the tailor's face. "While merchants and commerce surely flood the city on a daily basis there is another type of person the city attracts."
"Who?"
"Artists!"
"Artists...?"
"Yes, artists from all walks of life and passions! You see the constant influx of travelers, traders and people seeking a new home has birthed something unique in not just Valencia, but the Attican Islands as a whole. There's seemingly always a new story to be told, a new dance to learn and new song waiting to be heard!" As the tailor continued to talk a child-like excitement started to bubble in their voice.
"Musicians, singers, dancers, painters, playwrights, orators, actors and more! Valencia calls to anyone with a passion for the arts or a drive for the creative! One could even say that Valencia is the cultural heartbeat of the world! With that said, you probably shouldn't tell someone from Themis that, especially if they're a noble. They'd have a right fit if you did so."
"This place sounds amazing, almost too amazing if I'm being honest." Atris said trying to muster up some skepticism in his words. But the excitement and sheer passion in the tailor's words had swept him right up.
"Truth be told, I'd agree with you if I had not visited the city myself. There's a particular district that Valencia is famous for called the "Stages". The district houses a vast number of musicians, and when they practice, they do so at the same time forming this- impromptu symphony that echoes throughout the area!"
"All the while the local plays and street theatres use the music as a backdrop to their performances! I'm not joking when I say that in a matter of minutes a heroic epic can turn into a comedy, or a lighthearted romance into a tragedy." As the tailor finished speaking the excitement was largely gone, replaced by a quiet wistfulness.
"Is everything okay?"
"Huh? Oh, y-yes everything is fine. The city is just a very dear place to my heart. Also, I- fear I might be boring you a bit."
"Not at all! Honestly, I can hardly contain my excitement at the thought of visiting the city itself!" Again, a small smile, warm smile formed on the tailor's face.
"Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed my rambling. Anyway, as I just told you the creative arts is an important part of Valencia's identity, and this goes double for stage plays. Theatre holds the crown when it comes to such things and this is where Valencian silk comes into play."
"The city holds an annual where the most popular plays are voted for and performed in front tens of thousands. They go all out for these things too, using actual magic, manmade explosions, the whole works! All of it done to really bring out the dramatic flair!"
"That sounds... incredibly dangerous."
"Aye, it would be, if not for a special little bug that lives on Rinth. You see there's this moth that produces a unique golden silk that is both incredibly strong and endurable. The thing that truly makes it valuable though is that the silk has strong innate anti-magic properties to it-."
"Which they use to make costumes and clothes for the various plays, right?"
"Yes, that's exactly it! The city loans these costumes to the elected troupes for their performances. Needless to say, alterations have to sometimes be made to fit the stage play. After all, costumes made from Valencian silk can take decades or even half a century to properly fashion and are near priceless in value."
A few things started to make sense now as Atris thought back all the way to his first battle back in Southtown. Despite being hit head-on with a fire spell his coat had not only not caught aflame but had escaped any noticeable damage from the spell. It also explained how it had survived that attack from the Risen sorcerer during the battle back at Whisler's Pass.
"A couple of things are starting to make a lot more sense now. Jeez, I can't believe I've been unknowingly walking around with something this valuable the entire time!"
Whatever excitement in him at learning this new fact of his possible origin died upon meeting the tailor's eyes. The man simply stared hard at him; his lips pursed tightly, and his eyes moved about as if trying to size him up. Before Atris could speak though, the man began to talk.
"Yes. It's incredibly valuable. So valuable in fact that the Valencians only use this silk for two things. Making those costumes I told you about... and for making clothing that cater to the wealthiest of Plegian highborn."
There was an air of oppressive silence at the man's words, any warmth or friendliness between the two having been harshly cut down. As the two stared at one another, the shock started to wear off and the gears in his mind started to turn at just what the man's implication had meant.
Atris felt his breathing shallow and what followed was not panic, but full-fledged terror at what he might just be. Thinking back to that strange vision he had had so many nights ago after leaving Regna Ferox. That guilty secret he had been keeping from his friends. Was it that... he was a Plegian? Gods above, had the truth been that he was enemy all this time!?
His heart started to beat so violently it felt like it was trying to break free from his chest, and his breath started to come in short, rapid bouts of fearful gasps. Turning on his heel, Atris sought to run. It didn't matter where he ran to, so long as it was far away from here as possible. As he started to move something yanked him back in place, and he turned to see the tailor grasping his forearm.
In some deep, dark part of his fear-stricken mind he envisioned himself reaching for his sword and fleeing the scene, his blade wet with blood. The fact the thought had even popped in his head made him sick. Thankfully, the thought was soon banished entirely as the tailor started to speak.
"Please... stay. I don't mean you any harm. I just want to talk, that's all." The man's eyes were as desperate and pleading as the tone in his voice. "Do you mind if I step behind the counter to get something?"
Atris stared fearfully at the tailor and only after several minutes was he somehow able to give the man a stiff nod. Holding up his hands as if show he meant no ill will, the tailor walked behind the counter and slowly pulled something out. It took a moment for Atris to recognize it as a piece of parchment.
"W-what's that? The thing y-you were writing earlier?" Atris said, his voice hoarse and coming out in stutters.
"No... it's a message from my brother actually. He and my father live in Gran and took part in a battle at Whistler's Pass." Whatever moisture was left in his mouth dried up instantly as Atris forced himself to swallow down nothing.
"Whatever you're thinking, it's not like that I assure you. My brother wrote to me, telling me of how Count Sullivan worked alongside Prince Chrom and a man matching your description. I... I want you to know that you gave them a fighting chance, and that they are alive today because of that."
"It almost sounds like you're thanking me..."
"Because I am thanking you! I- Look, I don't get on well with my family back in Gran, but the last thing I'd want for them is to die without even a chance to fight back!" The tailor's face was a deep scarlet as he let out a soft cough and tried to compose himself. "I'm sorry, I fear I might've gotten ahead of myself a bit there..."
Atris didn't respond. There was such a storm of emotions and thoughts rampaging about inside his head that he didn't know how to process what he had even heard. Several times Atris opened his mouth only for nothing to come out until a voice other than his own finally spoke up.
"Kieran..." Atris looked up at the tailor whose eyes listed off towards the wall.
"What?"
"My name, it's Kieran. I don't know, I just- I just wanted you to know that."
"Oh... mine's Atris." A small smile started to spread on Kieran's face until eventually the man started to let out a soft laugh that confused him.
"I already know your name."
"Oh! Uh, yea, that's right you do..." Slowly, Kieran walked from around the counter and approached Atris. The same small smile from earlier on his face.
"Atris, I don't know if you're Plegian or not. As unlikely as it is maybe the coat came to you through some others means that you can't remember, but none of that honestly matters. Regardless of what you are- I think you're a sincere person, someone with nothing but good intentions who means well. I want you to know you'll always have a friend here in my little shop."
"Thank you, Kieran. I- I really needed to hear that now." As Atris finished speaking, Kieran extended their hand towards him. It took him a moment, but Atris overcame the doubt that clouded his mind and took the man's gesture of friendship firmly within his own hand.
"I promise I'll have the rest of your coats finished soon."
"Please, take your time. I don't want my order interfering with anyone else's. Besides, I want them all as masterfully made as the ones you've shown me today!" As the two let go of each other's hands a single question bubbled up from the turbulence that was his own thoughts. "Why are you so far away from home?"
"Why am I-?" The question seemed to have caught Kieran off guard. The smile from before disappearing from his face as a soft sigh escaped him.
"Back home there's a certain- let's call it attitude amongst my people that I don't agree with. The work I do, they view it as frivolous at best and burdensome at worst. For a Graninite to be considered 'that', there is nothing that can truly describe the shame or disgrace other than the word burden itself."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Kieran." Atris said, the turmoil Sully felt returning home starting to make more sense to him now.
"Don't be, even if they didn't feel that way I'd still be here."
"Oh?"
"Yes. My older sister has taken a... let's say an unconventional path in her life. So far, it's panned out well for her, but I'd like to be close. You know, just in case."
"I hope it continues going well for her."
"As do I, Atris."
As the two talked it became obvious to Atris that Kieran was a truly good man, and it was clear he was trying to take away some of the fear that his revelation had brought about. However, it was all Atris could do to push down the creeping doubt and feign the friendliness in his voice before the two parted ways.
Exiting the shop, Atris's gaze fell flat to the ground and his legs started to move of their own accord. He had no clue where they were taking him, or even if he was truly going anywhere. The only thing he could think about were the dozens of doubts and uncertainties that sprouted within his mind and dogged each footstep he made throughout the city.
By the time he had arrived back at the palace the evening sun hang in the air, something he hadn't realized until a stray ray of light struck his eye and he flinched away from it. A bitter scoff escaped him as he shook his head. It looked like he had missed out on his day out with Chrom.
Standing in the courtyard of the palace he looked at the sky. Dancing streaks of red and orange lay scattered across the horizon, the clouds looking like black wisps that rose slowly into the air. It looked like the sky itself was burning.
As Atris stood in the middle of the courtyard staring at the fiery horizon the doubts and uncertainties he harbored about himself was now less of a storm, and more of a virulent sludge. It seeped into every part of its being festering into every thought and feeling he had until it became diseased. His fists suddenly tightened, the leather in his gloves creaking from the strain.
He hated this! It was like his own mind was conspiring against him as he had to beat down every creeping bit of insecurity and doubt that was dredged up from the swamp that was his thoughts. Continuing to sink into the toxic slurry of his mind Atris felt a small tug at his shirt. Glancing over he saw it was none other than Lissa, the sight of the princess only causing him to sink deeper.
"Hey! I've been calling your name and you've been just staring at the sky like some kind of weirdo. Chrom needs to talk to you badly."
"About what?"
"No clue, he wouldn't tell me." Lissa responded rolling her eyes. "You'd think he was sending you on some top-secret spy mission or something with how hush-hush he's being."
Spy. It felt like someone punched him right in the gut when he heard that word, his stomach painfully tightening as it lurched about at the sound of it. Worse yet, was when he considered what he was about to do. No doubt by the end of the day she'd hate him, but he had to do it.
"Lissa, can we talk somewhere more privately please?" The princess's eyes widened and there was this glimmer of curiosity that he hated for being there.
With that signature upbeat excitement of hers, the princess agreed and the two found an unoccupied room away from prying eyes and ears. In some part of his mind he thought it weird how he could just meet with a princess like this.
"So... what did you want to talk about?"
Atris bit his lip and he hesitated trying to find the words. He almost called off the whole thing. But everything that was happening, it was all compounding on him and he knew it was best to not drag this along any further than it had to. Atris took a deep breath and just forced the words out of him.
"Lissa, do you have feelings for me?" The blonde girl's eyes widened looking like two tiny green moons, her cheeks immediately went scarlet and her breath came in shudders.
She didn't respond, the princess's eyes refusing to meet his own. They shot down to the carpet as she soon started to dig her shoes into it. It didn't matter though, her reaction was all the answer he needed and soon the question he dreaded the most came up.
"D-do you?" Atris painfully gulped down nothing as both fear and hope rang in Lissa's question. As the girl's body trembled in anticipation he finally spoke.
"I'm sorry." The words were as dry and cracked as his throat and as painful as the silence that followed.
Strangely enough, Lissa's body stopped trembling and her body almost seemed to unwind, her arms dropping limply to her sides as she stood there staring at the carpet. After a moment the girl's body started to sway slightly when suddenly an inaudible whisper followed by a quiet sniffle broke the silence between the two.
Before he could even react, Lissa turned on her heels and ran out of the room. Atris's gaze fell to the floor, a painful ball of shame tightening in his chest as the sound of the princess's footsteps disappearing down the hall. As he stared at the floor, he saw the something that caused that ball to tighten ever further. It was the only remaining thing of Lissa left in the room, a small scattering of tears that stained the rug she had stood on.
He didn't know how long he stared at the stains on the rug before he finally managed to tear his gaze away from them and left the room. It wasn't long after that a palace guard found him and delivered the same message Lissa had. Nodding silently to the guard he was escorted to the room where Chrom resided.
After everything that happened today, he didn't even know how he would approach his friend. Dozens of different situations began to play out in his head on what he should do only for him to grow increasingly discouraged with each one the finished. However, for all the scenarios he ran through his head none of them prepared him for what he found find once he stepped into the room.
Chrom stood hunched over a table, his palms flat on the map beneath him. The way the prince stared down at the map Atris thought they would burn a hole through it, table and all. To the left of Chrom was Frederick who held his lance so tightly that it trembled in his grip, and to the right was Sully who could only give him a grim expression when she saw he entered the room.
"Those bastards have finally done it." Chrom said, the prince looking up from the table to reveal his eyes were like a mirror of the burning sky from earlier. "The Plegians have openly attacked us. We're going to war."
Atris glanced back to notice the guard closing the door to the room. Looking back to Chrom he finally noticed the room was full of knights and nobles alike, even Emmeryn stood at the table. The exalt gave him a small smile and a soft nod as if to reassure him regardless of the darkness that lay ahead
In that moment though, he was far from comforted. The room may have been full of people but he had never felt as alone as he was now. As the door shut and locked behind him, Atris didn't know if he could fulfill his role as a tactician, his duty as a Shepherd, of if he could truly be friends with the people who had become so important to him, Chrom most of all.
Author's Note
I hath returned! Joking aside, I'm so sorry for how long it took to get this chapter. I've been going through a lot of things irl and even this chapter went through three different rewrites because I just wasn't happy with anything I came up with. That said work on future stuff is going quite well with the next chapter being something very special and the one following it being... we'll call it interesting to avoid spoilers. Anyway, I really do apologize for the delay and hopefully nothing like this happens again in the foreseeable future. See you all in the next chapter!