"Well, would you look at that?" Radiating her ever-present cheer, Morgan smiled at the princess. "Looks like the war is won. Yay!"

Chapter 18: Quintessence

Lucina blinked away those thoughts. A chill had briefly passed over her, but now, reassured by the warmth of the Ylissean afternoon, she returned to the present.

"Are you all right, Lucina?"

Smiling, she dismissed his concerns. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Sorry. I'm just—reminiscing a bit."

Lucina took hold of her teacup with both hands, trying to warm them. She leaned over the table and glanced up at him. "Thank you for agreeing to have tea with me. It's been some time."

"That it has! Haha." Robin scratched his head. "I can't remember the last time I've been in Ylisstol's gardens."

"Last time I was here…" Lucina tapped her chin. "I was speaking to Sir Frederick and Lady Emmeryn. Actually, I believe your wife came up in our conversation."

"Ah, Sumia?" Robin smiled. "I've missed her."

"I'm sure. She's missed you just as much."

"Yeah."

They both quietly sipped at their tea.

"Sumia…" Robin seemed suddenly wistful. "Has she been upset since I left?"

"Yes, of course she has. We all have." She tilted her head. "She had your twin daughters in your absence. Without you to raise them with her, how could she not be upset?"

"Well, maybe I'm not the focus of blame." Robin shrugged, and nonchalantly sipped at his tea again.

Lucina's brow furrowed, and she sipped her tea as well. There was something—unsettling, about the way he said that. It was perfectly casual… she was sure… but—

She shook her head. No helping her own misgivings over nothing. "I just can't comprehend it, Robin. Why? Why would you just… leave? Without any explanation? Your sacrifice, it was noble, no doubt about it. In your shoes, I would have done the same, but not without—"

"Wouldn't that have been lovely?" Robin gently set his teacup on the table, smiling directly at Lucina.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, you understand why Sumia felt that pain," Robin said matter-of-factly. "Why I had to make that sacrifice in the first place?"

Lucina shuddered. A quiver to her lip, she was unable to compose a response.

"You do understand, of course," said Robin. "I know you do. Guilt colors every facet of your being. You understand that all of the heartache you've seen in others is a consequence of your own failures."

Lucina's white-knuckled grip shattered the teacup. Its pieces hung suspended in the air, the tea freezing in place instead of spilling across the table. Lucina quickly recoiled, on her feet and reaching for Falchion.

Robin, still seated, took another calm sip of his tea. "The others don't get it," he said. "Your father. Your friends. Marth." He raised an eyebrow. "Morgan."

Grasping Falchion in her two shaking hands, Lucina leveled the blade at him. "Wh-What are you?!"

Robin sighed, and he placed the teacup onto the table, before standing as well. "What is with that tone?" His voice was growing louder, angrier. Violet miasma rose like steam from him—hardly visible at first, but growing thicker. "Don't you realize, Lucina, that it's because of YOUR inability to end the war in the future that I am dead? Because YOU lacked the competence to defeat Grima, I was forced to die to do your job for you." His eyes were burning with red malice—just like Mus's, just like… Grima's.

YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER…

ARE DEAD, TINY ONE.

Lucina tried to shake away that image, but it wouldn't leave the edge of her mind…

"I'm sure it would've been lovely," Robin continued, "if you had had the chance to atone for your failures, and died in my stead. But that isn't what happened, is it, Lucina?"

Lucina's eyes widened. Robin was standing right in front of her, and Falchion—where was Falchion? She looked around, but the gardens were gone. Just blackness. Just her and Robin, and frigid stillness.

"'Hope will never die,'" the facsimile whispered. "You tell yourself that, but it does die. You've felt that."

"I…" Lucina shook her head violently, tears raining uninhibited. "Robin… I, I know…! I'm so sorry! I should've—if I'd been stronger—"

"Sh." His hand was cupping her face protectively, and suddenly, he was smiling. This was an affectionate smile, a peaceful look. The miasma was gone, his overbearing anger calmed; he brushed her tears away with his thumb. "Lucina… you aren't strong enough. You never were."

Lucina gasped for air. When she fell to all fours, Robin let her.

"You are chained," he said patiently. "Your doubt is a heavy burden. It cripples you, makes you useless. If you cannot overcome it, then… you may as well die, shouldn't you?"

Robin—the darkness—the tears—were all whisked away from her, and light returned. Dim light, but light nonetheless…

Thus Lucina jolted awake, panting and covered in sweat. Her world spun around her.

A dream…

Lucina's eyes slowly focused, adjusting to her surroundings while her faculties returned. But, even as she awakened, she found nothing immediately recognizable. She seemed to be inside a natural cavern, resting against a stalagmite illuminated by the faint light of nearby torches. An assortment of crates lying on the far side of the room indicated human presence.

Lucina considered calling out. If someone else was here, perhaps they could explain.

But, when she tried standing, she discovered a very good reason not to do that. With a rustling of metal, Lucina's attempt to gain her feet failed, and creeping horror began to spread throughout her. A few more tugs confirmed her realization: her hands were bound, and chains restrained her to the stalagmite behind her.

"Gods," she breathed. "Oh, gods…"

Encroaching footsteps echoed from the darkness.

That morning

Lucina cleared her throat once to alert Chrom and Morgan to her approach. "Good morning."

Morgan beamed. "Morning, Lucina! How'd you sleep?"

"I slept well, thank you." She then nodded at Chrom. "Good morning, Father."

"Morning, honey." Chrom briefly patted her shoulder. "We were just going over the after-action report while everyone's getting ready." He gestured at the Outrealm Gate not far away, near which Shepherds were bustling this way and that.

Lucina crossed her arms. "I see. What is our destination?"

"The Annas say that after Dad left Infinite Regalia a few months ago, he went to some remote Outrealm," Morgan explained. "They call this one 'The Mountain.'"

"The Mountain?" Lucina mused. "What is there?"

Morgan shrugged. "No idea! Besides a mountain, I bet. Not sure why they don't call it the 'Mountainrealm' or something. Supposedly, it's pretty barren; not unlivable by any means, but there are more fertile Outrealms to settle down in, so it's not especially populous. The Annas had heard of it before Dad went there, apparently, but it's such a middle-of-nowhere kind of place that they forgot it existed."

"…How do the Annas get this information?" Lucina murmured with a frown. "To know so much about where he has been, but not where he is, or why?"

"Wanna ask them yourself?"

Lucina was somewhat put out by Morgan's snark, but before she could prepare a retort, she realized that Morgan's expression was entirely genuine.

"If you want to be sure, we can put a pin in this and try to find Blue first," Morgan said earnestly. "I'm willing to defer to you if you think we should."

Lucina glanced at Chrom, but her father seemed to be similarly surprised. "N…No, Morgan, it's alright. We've wasted enough time already. After all, I was the one who was so insistent on participating in the Einherjar War instead of searching for your father like you wanted. Let's continue."

Morgan smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Luce. Honestly, you didn't say anything I wasn't thinking myself. Yesterday was a bit of a waste. Legendary weapons are cool and all, but the adventure wasn't actually that productive. The Deadlords didn't say anything we didn't already know."

Lucina shook her head. "It's fine, Mor—"

"Lucina, you got hurt for nothing," said Morgan sternly. "We won, and you were able to recover just fine, but it could've gone way worse—for nothing. I owe you."

"Your tactics kept me alive," Lucina countered.

"I put you in danger in the first place," Morgan riposted.

Chrom stepped in between the two time-travelers. "No, I did," he said, his voice raising to a scolding tone. "I ordered the both of you into Infinite Regalia, and it was thanks to both of you that we made it out alive. Enough of this blame-shifting; what would Robin say about all this wasted time?" He nodded at the Outrealm Gate. "Nah and Gaius will be back from scouting soon. Let's wait for them at the Gate."

"R-Right." Morgan smiled at Lucina, then turned away with Chrom.

While Chrom and Morgan walked ahead, Lucina hung back, watching them. A concerned wrinkle touched her brow.

"Since you're back, I guess we're in the clear for now," said Chrom.

Nah's hands rested upon her hips. "Yes sir. The Bath Elixir hasn't worn off yet."

"And as for the rest of the scouting mission?" He glanced between Nah and Gaius, not caring who answered first.

"The portal thing spit us out in some woods," Gaius said. "'Sides some critters, there wasn't anything around. Through the foliage, though… Heh. There's a mountain, alright. You can see it through the canopy."

"It's big," said Nah. "Like, really big."

"Guess I'll see it for myself soon enough," Chrom replied. "Let's get the ball rolling. How's the headcount? All the Shepherds ready?"

"Did Frederick get it like usual?" Morgan asked.

"I… assume so," said Chrom, bemused. With Frederick having taken the job on himself lately, Chrom hadn't specifically delegated the task this morning.

"I haven't seen him," said Morgan, and glances shared with Lucina, Nah, and Gaius revealed the same.

"You know what they say, though." Gaius jutted his chin forward, indicating behind Chrom. "Speak of the devil, and he'll show up."

Sure enough, the others turned to see what Gaius did: Frederick hurrying over, clearly distressed, an embarrassed glow to his cheeks. Emmeryn was just behind, as ever.

"M-My sincerest apologies, milord," Frederick panted as he arrived. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair to smooth it back.

Chrom frowned, concerned. "It's not like you to be late, Frederick. Is everything alright?"

"Y-Yes, of course." Frederick cleared his throat and assumed a more dignified parade rest. "I, I simply overslept. I won't let it happen again."

"Overslept?" Chrom laughed a bit as he said that. "That's even more worrying, coming from you. Are you sure that's all?"

"Yes, quite…"

Frederick seemed to want to leave it at that, but in that moment, Lucina and Morgan both had simultaneous moments of perceptiveness. They noticed the way Emmeryn's and Frederick's hair were similarly disheveled—not to mention the slight, identical blushes in their faces.

Herein lay the difference between the ways Lucina and Morgan respectively saw the world:

Lucina recalled how intoxicated Frederick had been before she had left the tavern, not to account for how much he had had to drink after Lucina had turned in for the night. Clearly, Emmeryn let him sleep it off in her room, and he was so comfortable (and hungover) he slept in longer than expected.

To spare him embarrassment, Lucina decided not to say anything.

Morgan, on the other hand, was starting to shiver with giddiness. No way. Those two? Did they really? No way! Wow, good for them!

Likewise, to spare him embarrassment, she chose to say nothing.

"Yo, big guy," said Gaius dryly, "I get that Stutters is cute and all, but could you two not hold the rest of us up with that kind of thing? You guys can put off gettin' sweet all over each other 'til we get home."

"Wha—! I—!" Frederick didn't have anything to say past that, though his face and Emmeryn's both flooded with color. Morgan covered her mouth with her hands, amazed at the thief's audacity (and a bit impressed, she had to admit).

"Getting sweet?" Chrom murmured. "What do you…" He turned to curiously glance at his sister and her knight, and only then did he see what Morgan and Gaius saw. His hands fell limply to his sides, realization growing on his face. "No way… Were you two…?"

"N-No! We weren't!"

"Wow," Chrom said, mostly to himself. "I've been really unperceptive about this kind of thing lately. Wow." Then, seriously, he swallowed his shock and met Emmeryn's eye. "Far be it from me to tell you how to live your life, but please be more cautious in the future. I understand why you would want to fraternize in that way, but because of Outrealm Sickness, we're constantly on a timer, so we can't afford to wait on you like that."

"I-I'm sorry, Chrom…" Emmeryn murmured. "We'll, um… be more careful…"

Frederick's mortification shifted to her. "Wha—Emmeryn—Why—Why would you phrase it that way, milady?!" He desperately faced the others. "I—We—We didn't!"

Nah sniffed the air. "…Are you sure?"

"What are you—How could I not be sure?!"

Morgan giggled. The stern knight was so flustered! She'd never seen him like this before.

"You smell like Lady Emmeryn," said Nah matter-of-factly, and everyone suddenly remembered they were in the presence of a Manakete. "Really strongly. Almost overpowers yesterday's alcohol…"

Brows rose from the others, even Lucina. "That is fairly damning," she pointed out.

Frederick, with his eyes jumping from person to person, realized he was cornered. "I… That is, we…" Sighing, he was forced to concede the truth. "We did sleep together, but—"

"Ooooo!" Morgan sang, and the others also expressed their approval with nods, grins, or pats on Frederick's or Emmeryn's shoulder (though Chrom wasn't sure how to react in this kind of situation, considering who was involved). Both cringed under the attention.

"But it was just that! Sleeping!" Frederick shook his head vehemently. "I was—was far too drunk for anything more!"

"Anything more, huh?" Gaius ribbed. "Like what?"

Morgan was smirking widely. "So if you were a little less drunk, then…?"

"I—That's enough!" said Frederick, his voice cracking and only eliciting more chuckles. "Lady Emmeryn was simply showing me an, an act of kindness, and—"

"Well hey, if it was just a little favor, I wouldn't mind owin' you one, milady," Gaius said with a roguish salute, and the chuckles escalated to laughter.

"Regardless," said Chrom gently, trying to ease back the mockery, "seems like the two of you had a pretty good night, right, Emm?"

"Good night?" Morgan said. "With Frederick, it was probably a Great Knight!"

So reluctant was everyone to acknowledge that pun, that not even a groan was heard.

In fact, with everyone suddenly avoiding Morgan's eye, it seemed that the mood had just been viciously slain, and all ire rested on the tactician.

"…Okay, okay," said Chrom with a forced chuckle, placing himself between the embarrassed couple and the rest, "that's enough teasing for now. Let's get moving, alright? Clock's still ticking."

"Right."

As the others walked on—Morgan hanging her head, Emmeryn giving Frederick a contrite look before following—Frederick balled his hand into an emotional fist and squeezed his eyes shut.

Th-Thank you so much for your sacrifice, Lady Morgan! I will never forget it…!

The walk was peaceful. Birds chirped in the trees while a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. The canopy had parted a few minutes back, revealing a massive mountain dominating the horizon—this Outrealm had surely earned its name. Without much to talk about, the Shepherds walked in relative silence toward their new objective.

"I wonder why Robin is still here."

Cynthia started. She'd been lost in thought, and only just now realized that she was not walking alone—a red tint hit her cheeks as she realized Inigo was a few paces to her left.

Inigo blinked. "Oh, I didn't mean to say that out loud, sorry."

The surprise on Cynthia's face turned to a stubborn frown. "Inigo."

"Hey."

"Hey."

They were quiet. Cynthia was tempted to walk a little faster ahead of him, but guilt stayed her feet.

…As well as a modicum of curiosity. "Um… What, ah, do you mean?"

"About Robin? Oh. Uh, don't mind that. Thinking aloud."

"But you said something."

Inigo didn't quite meet her eye. A slight blush was visible in his expression as well. "Uh, it's a little tactless, I think."

"But you said something."

"I just don't think it'd be very gentlemanly of me to—"

"But you said something."

Inigo sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, okay… Defeated by your powers of logic and reason, as ever." He glanced at her with a sideways smile, and she swiftly turned away to hide her own grin. Empowered, Inigo finally obliged. "I was simply wondering… why didn't Robin just escape the Outrealms on his own? Why not just come back to Ylisse? I mean, there are Outrealm Gates all over. If he has truly been through so many Outrealms, then he has USED some gates. Any one of them could have taken him back to our Inrealm, right?"

Cynthia shrugged. "Maybe he didn't know how. I just kinda walk through 'em and they take me where I wanna go, and I only know they'll take me there because you guys all go through first. I don't know how those things actually WORK."

"Surely there's a trick to it. Who's been setting destinations up until now?"

"I think Anna. And Old Hubba a couple times. And the other Annas."

"How? When?"

"No idea, dude. This stuff's a mystery."

Inigo sighed. "I am only saying, if any of us could've figured it out, it would've been your father."

"Well," Cynthia said, turning her eyes forward, "we can just ask him when we see him, huh?"

Not that it's anywhere near the top of my priorities…

"Oh, hey. Heard you had a fun night."

"What?" Cynthia turned to Inigo, but he wasn't talking to her; it seemed they had caught up to Emmeryn. Reflexively: "Aunt Emm?"

"Hello, Cynthia," said Emmeryn with a smile. "And yes, Inigo, I did."

"I'm not used to seeing you on foot," said Inigo with a little grin. "If I'm not mistaken, don't you often ride near the front of the formation on Frederick's horse?"

"Oh my gawds, Inigo!" Cynthia said with an appalled laugh. "Shut up!"

Emmeryn chuckled as Cynthia pushed Inigo ahead…

And out of earshot, at last. Out of eavesdropping distance. As they marched forward, outpacing Emmeryn, her expression soon turned dour.

I've left no hints. No clues. When I go to fight Grima, my secret dies with me. And I mean it this time.

Shutting memories away was never easy for Emmeryn. She clutched at her forehead, her Brand, as traitorous thoughts entered her mind, thoughts that Robin could possibly… No. No, he would surely have returned from the Outrealms were it within his power.

Surely…

Morgan whistled. "Good gods."

The forest had broken at last, and the Shepherds had arrived at the base of the mountain. The peak was masked behind clouds, and the range this mountain belonged to stretched to the left and right as far as the eye could see.

That wasn't what had Morgan surprised, however. Here at the base of the Outrealm's signature mountain was a sizable village. Or, rather, what once was a village; the ruins were at rest, and its destruction complete. This place was long abandoned.

"Quaint," Morgan added, looking around. "You seein' this, Chrom?"

"Yeah." A nearby house next to the tree line was totaled; Chrom nudged a rotting plank of wood with his foot. "I thought you said this Outrealm was barren?"

"Guess that doesn't mean completely uninhabited." Morgan started walking forward. "Well, maybe it is now. Let's check this place out."

At Chrom's direction, the Shepherds fanned out through the village, searching through the deserted ruins. The air was filled with a stillness, a quietness, that sobered the newcomers.

Chrom placed his hands on his hips, frowning as he beheld what had once been a home—with its roof caved in, it was now inaccessible. Not breaking his stare at the demolished structure, he called over his shoulder to Morgan. "How long ago do you think this happened? The wood's kind of moldy, but it could have been like that before… whatever happened to this place."

A couple of coughs from behind got Chrom to break eye contact with the house to look over his shoulder. Morgan was ducking out of another house, waving her hand in front of her face and coughing. She seemed to be carrying some dishes under her other arm.

Morgan stood up straight with a grunt. "Man, it is DUSTY in there. But look at these." She held out the dishes. "Look how clean they are. A little grimy, yeah, but I'd guess whatever happened to the village happened… I dunno, a couple months ago, tops? Maybe just a few weeks."

"Have you found any bodies?"

"Not one."

"Not one?" Chrom frowned. "That's strange. Could this have been a natural disaster…?"

Morgan rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Chrom, let's assume that. Sounds wise."

"I'm just fielding the option," he muttered, as he continued to poke through wreckage. "…Regardless, we should keep our guards up. If Robin came through here…"

"…Then danger probably followed, huh."

Chrom sighed. "Always does."

Brady jutted his chin forward. "Ey, Luce, I'm gonna check this one over here."

Lucina nodded. "I'll keep watch outside."

"Mm."

As Brady ducked into another house, Lucina took the opportunity to soak in her surroundings. Dense woods surrounded the village on three sides, with the steep slopes leading to the mountain taking the fourth. She and Brady were on the fringe of the village, with impenetrable woods just to her left. The darkness between the trees sent shivers down Lucina's spine.

The wind had stilled by now, leaving the underbrush motionless. All the more surprising, then, when a loud rustling came from the bushes.

Lucina pursed her lips and rested her hand on the pommel of Falchion. Cautiously, she left Brady behind and approached the woods, eyes narrowing as she started to pinpoint the noise.

The rustling stopped. Lucina's hand tensed on Falchion, and she inched closer.

Then—with a loud yelp, the bushes flattened, and a shape fell out of them. Lucina drew Falchion instantly, her instincts flaring—

"Ah. Ugh." Nah pushed up to her knees. Twigs and leaves poked out of her hair. "What a mess…"

Lucina let out the breath she'd been holding, and she sheathed her weapon. "Nah, you startled me. What are you doing over here? You shouldn't leave the group behind."

"Hey, you did the same thing," Nah said, gesturing behind Lucina at the house Brady was still exploring alone.

Lucina frowned. "Not the same."

"Anyway, it's not a waste." Nah's face was serious, and as she stood up, Lucina noticed what Nah was holding in her hands. An arrow, its tip caked in dry blood.

Lucina's expression hardened. "…Is there a body back there?"

"No bodies," Nah confirmed. "But this means something violent definitely happened here."

Lucina opened her mouth as if to speak, but she was interrupted by the sound of a horn. When she and Nah—and Brady, poking his head out of the house—looked up, they could see Sumia flying overhead.

"A call to rally?" Lucina murmured. "What did they find?"

Flies and a horrid stench filled the air in equal measure.

"Well…" Morgan said with the weakest chuckle, searching for the hollowest attempt at levity even as she was unable to look at the unmissable sight, "I guess that's one mystery solved."

Chrom had no such humor, nor even a willingness to scold Morgan. His eyes were locked, his fists clenched, and his jaw set.

"Who could have done this."

On the north side of the village, the side nearest the mountain's base, was the missing pile of bodies. At least twenty corpses had been haphazardly stacked and forgotten here. Bloody fates had met every last soul here—impalement and dismemberment were the main causes of death, apparent even at this distance.

"Children, mothers, elderly…" Chrom muttered. "What in the hells is this?"

"Did you notice?" Morgan whispered. "This can't be everyone."

"What?"

"There aren't any strong men or women among them," she continued. "Only noncombatants."

Chrom's brow furrowed. "That makes no sense."

"I know." Morgan glanced over at the corpse pile. "I don't know what's going on, but…"

"But they're going to pay." Chrom scowled. "We'll find who did this."

"Yeah."

A call came from behind. "Lord Chrom!"

Chrom and Morgan turned as Marth approached. "Princess Caeda has found a survivor."

"Don't worry, okay?" Caeda's smile was gentle as she gestured to an unseen figure hidden in the rubble. "Easy now… I won't hurt you."

Chrom, Morgan, and Marth slowed to a jog as they arrived. Morgan was the first to pipe in: "Who is it?"

The three of them approached Caeda, noticing her carefulness and slowing their paces in kind. What had once been a home had collapsed into a fort too small for any of the Shepherds to enter; as Morgan peered into the mess of collapsed wood and stone, she spotted a head of blond hair and bright, fearful eyes shining from the shade of the debris.

"A little girl," Morgan whispered. "How old is she?"

"Couldn't be older than eight or nine," Marth noted.

"She has blood on her," Chrom said. "Is she okay?"

Caeda nodded. "I don't think it's hers. She's just afraid, not injured." To the little girl: "Are you alone?"

Trembling, the child nodded.

"Help…"

Lucina slowed to a walk. Brady and Nah didn't seem to hear it, so they kept running ahead, but Lucina paused, gripping Falchion's hilt.

"P-Please…"

Lucina squinted into a nearby house. Its entrance was surprisingly intact, though part of the ceiling had collapsed inward. And there was definitely motion inside. She hurried over to investigate.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness of the home. The building was comprised of only a single room, so it wasn't hard to find what Lucina was looking for: a woman, middle-aged and slightly overweight, wearing common clothes covered in dirt and dried blood. Streaks of fresh blood ran down the sides of the woman's face, and her foot was trapped under a fallen beam.

Lucina's feet carried her before she could think. With all her effort, she grasped the beam and struggled to lift it.

"Oh!" the woman cried. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and those tears began to flow as Lucina got to work. "I—Thank the gods! Oh, thank you!"

"What happened here?" Marth asked, careful not to raise his voice. "Can you tell us?"

The little girl's mouth worked for a while, as if remembering how to speak. "Th—They—They said they only wanted f-fighters." The girl took a shaky breath. "They… um… took them away."

"They?" Chrom asked. "Who's 'they'?"

Her eyes averted. "I-I dunno."

Chrom frowned. "Where were they taken to?"

The child paused. After a moment of thought, she crawled out from her makeshift fort of rubble, and once she was near the others, she turned around and pointed upward—toward the stark mountainside.

Lucina planted her feet, grunted, and lifted. The beam was not light, and no sooner had the villager scrambled away from her former trappings than Lucina dropped it with a loud thud. Lucina massaged her hands, raw from handling the splintered wood.

Not for long, however. Lucina knelt over the villager, who was already mumbling gratitude to Naga and Lucina both. Most of the woman's injuries were minor, including some cuts on her head and face that were the source of most of the blood. However, the beam that had trapped her had ruined her left ankle. The woman would have to be carried out of here.

"How are you feeling?" Lucina asked.

"O-Okay," the villager said, with a weak grin. "I'll be fine."

Lucina had to smile. The woman put on a strong face despite what must be awful pain. Lucina had to respect it. "What happened to this place?"

"I-It was…" She took a deep breath. "…So, a man came in. This… dark wizard. He had an army of monsters that attacked the whole village."

"Monsters?" Lucina murmured. "Risen…"

"They slaughtered everyone they could find," she continued. "Even children weren't spared…"

Lucina's eyes turned cold. "…I see."

"But they didn't kill everyone," the woman said. "If anyone fought back—and were any good at it—then they were kidnapped. They'd get ganged up on by the monsters and carried off."

"Do you know why your village was attacked?"

The woman stared earnestly into Lucina's eyes. Only now could Lucina see the absolute despair in the woman's expression. The expression of a person who had seen the worst of humanity. An expression that elicited uncomfortable familiarity in the time traveler.

"That man," the villager whispered, her lower lip shaking, "is insane. I heard—I heard he wants to absorb them. Suck them dry and kill them all. I heard his name, once."

Lucina placed her hand on Falchion.

The woman was on the verge of tears, barely able to sputter out the painful truth.

"Nergal."

"They took everyone to the mountain?" Chrom murmured to the air. "What, inside?"

Caeda knelt in front of the little girl. "Are you okay?" she asked, smiling patiently. Her temptation was to brush the clumps of mud out of the child's hair now that she was within arm's reach, but Caeda knew it wouldn't be wise to touch the victim yet. "Did they hurt you?"

"I'm okay," the girl said. "I, um, can't fight. So they didn't take me."

"You're lucky they didn't find you," Morgan said.

Chrom nudged her. "Show some tact, Morgan."

"It's okay. Everything'll be all right!" The child's eyes twinkled with hope. "Because he's gonna come back, and he's gonna bring my daddy back, too."

"He? Who's he?"

The child giggled. "C'mon, mister, that's no fair. It's a secret! I've already said too much!"

A chill ran through Morgan. "Awfully chipper considering you're—"

Whatever else she was about to say evaporated, because the child began to giggle again. And as she giggled, the sound growing to an inhuman pitch, particles of blue flame began to rise.

In a moment, the flames completely overtook the child—and vanished, child and all.

"Einherjar," Morgan breathed. "C-Call everyone in, now! We need to regroup!"

"Nergal." Only through a miniscule spike in courage was the villager able to repeat his name. Her voice shook; her breathing was ragged. "H-He—he wants to kill us. All of us, everyone, you, me! H-He wants… us all… to be his."

"Nergal," Lucina echoed. Determination lined her expression. "Mus was right." Purpose in her movement now, she stood. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't try to walk, okay?"

"No!" she gasped. "No, please, don't leave me here alone—what if they come back?!"

Lucina pursed her lips, tempted. "…Very well. I'll help you walk." She knelt in front of the woman, who reached out her right arm for Lucina to take. "Be sure to keep your weight off of your ankle, or—"

A weighty blow struck Lucina over the head, and her words died in her throat.

The villager collapsed on top of her, the exertion being too much for her injured body. In her right hand, she held a sizable rock, now decorated by droplets of blood. Lucina was disoriented—possibly concussed—but not unconscious just yet.

"Easy," the villager whispered, inclining Lucina's head. With some effort, she produced a small concoction from her pocket. "J-Just cooperate, and this'll be painless, dear…"

As the medicine dripped into Lucina's mouth, her eyelids drifted shut.

"Lord Nergal wants-s-s us all to be his," the woman whispered again. The pain of her injuries caused her to stutter. "I-I'm so sorry, but… he already has me."

Grasping Lucina by the shoulders, she began to drag her across the ruined house. With a jab of her elbow into the wood floor, a floorboard fell away, revealing a hidden underground passage.

Bloodied from long-forgotten injuries and nursing an ankle broken beyond repair, the former villager sobbed against the pain as she dragged Lucina into the depths of the mountain.

Next time:

Chapter 19

..

..

Ting…

Ting…

Ting…

Besides the howling wind, the coinflip was the only noise to be heard.

With the man's relaxed posture and the cap tilted over his eyes, it would've been easy to surmise he was asleep were it not for him continuously flipping the coin, the only thing remotely betraying his impatience.

Without adjusting his cap, the man spoke with a little grin. "Hey, Ares."

The blond knight was sitting nearby with much more poise. His expression twitched with annoyance upon hearing the other man speak; out of something nearing temptation, his hand clenched around the hilt of his black sword.

The other man didn't need a reply. "Wanna make a bet?"

Ares scowled. "Your flippancy continues to annoy me, Joshua."

Ting. Joshua caught the coin one last time and sat up, readjusting his hat to not cover his eyes. "Heads or tails?"

"I refuse to play along," said Ares. "We are at war, Joshua. We have no time for games."

"I'd rather take it easy than be like you or Grumpy over there." Joshua jutted his chin, indicating behind Ares.

Ares glanced over his shoulder at their lavender-haired ally, who did not so much as react. His ragged hair hid his face. Lyon might not have been breathing, for all Ares could tell. Or care.

"I think I'd prefer it if you shared Lyon's silence," Ares quipped.

"Lyon? I'm talking about other Grumpy, coming our way. Though really, you're all Grumpy, now that I think about it."

Ares noticed 'this Grumpy' was in reference to the approaching knight. Ares felt something resembling relief as Orson came near; he may not have known the man well, but at least Orson composed himself appropriately for the circumstances, unlike Joshua.

Orson's expression was serious, as always. "There is a new force in the fray, as we thought. What is our plan?"

"My plan is heads," Joshua remarked. "Feel free to go tails if you want."

"I was not asking you."

Joshua sighed. "I know, I know." He glanced behind him, at the great mountain dominating the Outrealm. Their vantage point from this cliff gave them a wide view of the surrounding forest and the base of the mountain; if he squinted hard enough, he could barely make out the village that had once sheltered them.

He clicked his tongue. "Well, you heard him, boss. What's our plan?"

Joshua, Ares, and Orson patiently awaited an answer. Even Lyon tilted his head slightly, showing his attention to their leader standing by the cliff's edge.

The man's eyes were hard. Even as the moment dragged on without his reply, his subordinates knew his mind was racing, considering all courses of action.

Ting…

"Joshua, you'll break his concentration."

Joshua snorted. "You really think anything is capable of doing that?"

Orson was preparing a retort, but the voice of their leader silenced them both.

"We're acting today."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

"Yes, this is exactly the distraction we need. We don't know if they're allies or not, but either way, the introduction of so many newcomers is bound to cause enough chaos for us to get inside the mountain and end this."

"This is EXACTLY what I like to hear!" Joshua grabbed his scabbard and leapt to his feet. "Way to go, bossman."

"Don't get too excited." The man took a deep breath—a shakier one than usual. "This could be a suicide mission. Are all of you in anyway?"

"As if we have a choice," Ares said. "We are your Einherjar."

"I'm letting you have a choice. I can let you all go if you want me to."

Joshua smirked widely, crossing his arms. "…You must be having a lot of fun, asking questions like that when you already know exactly how we're gonna answer, Robin."

Robin glanced over his shoulder at Joshua. A hint of a grin touched his expression.

"Of course we're coming," Joshua added. "You don't pick fights you can't win, right?"

"That's the trend so far." Robin faced the great mountain once again. "Let's see how it holds up."

Next time:

Chapter 19 – For Real This Time

Author's notes:

I thought it was dead too.

This was the first chapter I ever completed an outline for, so it's kinda fitting that it's my "comeback." Does this count as a comeback? I dunno, we'll see. I've been sitting on that Great Knight pun for almost four years now and I guess I just had to get it out.

Please check out The Unironic Masterpiece Fanfic Theater's episode on Miracle here, it's pretty much the only reason I had the motivation to pick this back up:
open . spotify . (c o m) /episode/39nPLgbhT13yPRs0EMRleT (you know how aggressive this website is about hyperlinks, sorry). They also made a follow-up episode where they interviewed me personally!

frankly I'm just glad this story doesn't end with crab rave anymore jesus christ