C

"So this is goodbye then?"

"..."

"Morgan."

"...If you see me again, I see no reason to say goodbye."

Morgan turned from his work to where Lucina... or rather, Exalt Lucina stood in his doorway. There wasn't much to gauge off her blank expression: like a maid watching him pack his bag, but also a guard sealing his only way out. Not satisfied by his response, Lucina pressed further, taking a single step inside Morgan's room. Her boots were heavy, her heart heavier still.

The younger man didn't react, resorting to watching blankly as his sister interrupted his sudden departure.

"Will I see you again, then?" she asked, not knowing how to word that question without sounding desperate. But then again, this was desperate.

She was desperate.

"No," Morgan replied simply, holding his gaze a few more seconds before turning back to his bag and resuming his packing. "No, you will not."

"Do you even know where you are going?"

"Far away," he replied, not turning to regard his sister. "Very far, and very away."

"That does not answer my question."

"I think it answers it sufficiently," the younger man replied with a laugh. "What you mean to say, is that it isn't the answer you want."

Another step.

"You know full well what I'm asking of you."

"And you know full well the answer is no."

One more. She was about three steps away now. Or a very big step, Morgan contemplated.

"What will it take for you to change your mind?"

Morgan looked up from his counting game to see pleading blue eyes, ones he had loved since birth. He couldn't see the brand, not with all the tears starting their approach.

He hated that he couldn't count them all.

"What will it take?"

"..."

"I want you to stay, brother. I want it more than anything else. Please, tell me."

The young King chuckled dryly, his hand lightly brushing the bandages wrapping his entire chest. Lucina hitched, knowing what lay beneath those stained cloths.

"I want you to erase from my memory and everyone else what happened here. Erase Mother's grave. Father's grave. The thousands of Plegian and Ylissean graves that will never be named. I want neither widow nor orphan, because every single family that I tore apart in this stupid war suffers them. If you can revert any trace of my failures, of my war... then I would have a reason to stay. I will not remain in the place where I became the Mad King."

Lucina stuttered, not expecting Morgan to play that card so soon. "I... cannot. I can't fix that. Not in this lifetime."

"You did," the younger man answered, drawing his finger along his chest. "You were so close to fixing it."

"You being alive is not a mistake! I don't know why-"

"Neither do I," Morgan interrupted, finishing up his knot and standing to face his sister. His face, while initially apathetic, flickered to a state of understanding before returning to its battered state, reminding Lucina of the brother she had before... everything happened. "That's why I should have stayed dead."

"Is it too much to ask you to stay? At least answer me that."

He smiled, leaning ever so slightly towards his beloved sister.

"It means a lot to me that you still care," Morgan admitted, before taking a step away and drawing a simple sword from his personal shelf. Inspecting the blade, Morgan imagined it embedded in his heart before nodding and strapping it to the outside of his ruck. It was no Falchion, but then again, why bother with self defense if there was little reason to live?

No, he would live. He was alive and Morgan intended on finding out why.

"I always will."

He lowered his hands, letting them slide down his beloved cloak before turning fully to face his Queen. His Sister.

His murderer.

"T-thank you."

One more step. He could hear her rushing heartbeat. Hear her eyes give in to sorrow. Hear her knees wobble on the castle floor.

Taste the foul flavor of guilt in his mouth.

"We just found you a week ago. I can't let you go again. King of Plegia or not, you're the only-"

"-family you have left?"

Their father, slain by his wife.

Their mother, slain by her daughter.

Their son, slain by his sister.

But breathing now.

It was cold when Morgan woke up. His chest was numb, like it was never truly there.

Lucina was a good swordsman. The blow was swift and merciful. Efficient.

Deadly.

"You are my brother, Morgan. You... you are a prince of Ylisse and a King of Plegia. But you are my brother, most of all."

"I know. I won't ever forget it."

"I don't want to forget you," Lucina whispered.

"It's going to be okay. Just remember the happiness I gave you, once upon a time.."

Once, there existed a time where there wasn't a Mother to bring back to life.

"I can't. I can only remember everything. Because my brother was everything to me. That's what I see."

Morgan stopped, glaring at the tearful woman before him.

"What you saw, what you scorned and what you killed wasn't your brother. That was Grima. She killed your brother long before you could. I can't bring back Mother and I certainly can't bring back Father. But I can at least make sure the Mad King stays dead. I can guarantee that Ylisse and Plegia will rebuild. Flourish. Forget."

Lucina sighed, looking at Morgan and reminiscing on how different he looked as opposed to before the tragedy struck. Gone were the cheery, innocent eyes. What were once twin orbs shining with curiosity and eagerness were now dull and pained, more often than not bloodshot due to the lack of sleep, frenzied as they were at the prospect of a resurrection.

His face, once the very image of innocent joy was now stern and lifeless, the strong features of a king mixed with the dirt and grime of a wanderer. If she were to pull down his shirt just a little, they would both see the scar that Falchion had left when it embedded itself to the hilt into Morgan's chest, thus ending the second Mad King's War.

"Can I come with you then?" Lucina attempted, knowing how stupid that question was even before it left her mouth. Morgan didn't bother to answer and chuckled softly, without any real sign of amusement.

"You never were good with jokes."

"It wasn't."

"It was still funny."

Lucina said nothing, merely walking past Morgan to sit on his bed.

"At least let me talk with you."

The Plegian King sat as well, close enough but not quite.

"...Actually, there is something we can do."

Morgan rose quickly, looking around his room before stopping at an oft-used drawer, pulling out a small object. It was just a simple bottle of wine, nothing over the top.

"Mother gave that to you. I'm surprised it's still there," Lucina remembered, her gaze softening.

"I was saving it for an important occasion... I was saving it for- for..."

Lucina watched as the blankness faded from Morgan's expression, only to be replaced with grief.

It hit him all at once, sending the young man into a fit of tears. Immediately, Lucina rushed to his side, covering the sobbing martyr in her arms and kissing the top of his head.

"For Mother and Father, when they came back?" Lucina realized.

For when he thought he would succeed.

"...Y-yeah."

"I'm so sorry!" he cried out, clutching Lucina's cape and sobbing uncontrollably into her chest, leaving the Queen motionless as she too cried into his hair.

"Cheers," Morgan announced, the bout of sadness come and gone. Lucina nodded, not quite at terms with things but powerless nonetheless. Still, she could at least toast a pledge to her baby brother.

"May wherever he finds himself give him the peace that he cannot find here."

Morgan smiled, a genuine and solemn one.

"May he know that he is always welcome to my borders, no matter his past. He is, and always will be, a Prince of Ylisse, a-and..." she stared at the glass solemnly, watching her own tears drip and splatter against the surface of her drink. Unable to handle watching, Morgan feigned disinterest and looked away.

"My family."

With it finished, Lucina bit her lip in an attempt to not cry. It did little to stop the tears though.

"I was given a chance to start over. I know I can still do good in this world," Morgan pledged. This time, Lucina sat as a wreck, her glass untouched.

"Please... do not go. I didn't fight this war just to lose you too," Lucina asked simply, leaving the glass stagnant in her hand. Seeing that, Morgan took the glass from her, placing it on his desk, right next to his.

"You already lost me the moment I thought I could bring Mother back."

Her eyes widened, shaking her head violently in disagreement.

"No... I would have-"

"Done the same? Please, Lucina. You wouldn't. It's not even your fault you stabbed me. Everything that's happened, it's my fault. Just... Let Ylisse heal. I can't be by your side if that's our future."

"Well I'll be by your side now! I promise you-"

She stopped, shaking her head. Morgan put a hand on hers, trying to console his beloved sister.

"You're the hero of the war, Luci. Help them heal. I cannot."

"...I need you to help me."

Morgan rose, nodding to himself. Looking out the window, he could see the remains of Yliisstol, the mangled huts of survivors trying to rebuild.

Compared to the ones on his chest, the scars out there hurt.

"I... I can make you deal," Morgan offered, deciding that Lucina deserved her wish. "I'll return if, and that's a huge if, on one condition."

Morgan awoke in the middle of the night to a rapid burst of light knocking.

"Hm... Huh?"

The knocks repeated, the owner not hearing Morgan's stirring.

"Lucina, I already told you, I'm not-"

"Morgan? It's me."

Instantly, he threw the blanket off of him, sitting up.

A memory of petals, two teenagers giving each other flowers found only on the face of a cliff.

"Nah?"

"Y-yep. It's me."

Morgan scrambled off his bed and put on something presentable, lighting the lamp inside to illuminate the room.

"Be right there!"

"T-take your time," Nah's voice stammered, her normally reserved and calm tone sounding more jittery and nervous.

A few seconds later, Morgan opened the door, eyes widening at the shorter Manakete that stood outside.

"Lucina's really pulling out the heavy hitters, isn't she?" Morgan asked, letting the short dragon in.

"I came because I wanted to. Not because my Queen begged me," Nah replied, determined now that she was inside. Now that she was with him.

"There's no hiding it. I'm glad to have seen you," Morgan admitted, his smile slight yet honest.

"'Have seen' as opposed to... See?" Nah questioned cautiously.

"You know what's happening," Morgan answered, knowing Nah was smarter than she let on.

"Just rumors," she replied, hiding her fear. "I hear you're leaving at first light tomorrow at the dawn."

"Second light, actually, if such a thing exists," Morgan corrected, "I'm going after I say goodbye to those who wish to hear me say it."

"So it's true then? You're not coming back?" Nah asked softly, looking at the grizzled... man, in front of her.

But yet a boy, younger than her.

"I admit, I'm not good at playing dead. When I was found, I... didn't know how to react. I should have been dead. It's not polite to chase after a guy who was pronounced dead."

"I found you," Nah corrected. "and if I'm not mistaken, you hugged me as soon as you saw me."

Morgan smiled at the memory, but it faded as he looked outside again.

"It was good to see someone I... trusted. Especially after getting stabbed by your own sister."

"We were good friends, that is true. Maybe more, if the war hadn't..."

"If I hadn't ruined it," Morgan corrected. "Look, Nah, I'm sorry but I can't stay. I have to find out why I'm alive but it's not going to be here. I still have good to do and I-"

"I didn't ask for your reason," Nah interrupted, placing a bundle of flowers in Morgan's hand, it remained in Morgan's hands as if he had no idea what to make of the gift.

He stared at it for a while, before bringing them to his nose and closing his eyes.

"Naga's Bell," Morgan recalled, fiddling with the flowers and smiling faintly at the memories that came with them. "That... was quite the climb."

"You lied, saying that you found them by the road. But the blood on your knees and elbows explained otherwise..." Morgan nodded, before looking back at the shorter girl.

"And why bring this up?"

"Because even... even with what you've done, you're a caring person, even after all this, Morgan. I care for you, as do... some others. I'm not asking you to fix this. But at least remember that you're a good man."

Morgan shook his head, returning the flowers without emotion.

"I'm not quite sure about that, but... Hey, wanna go for a walk?"

Nah lit up, eagerly grasping Morgan's hand and following him outside, both of them barefoot.

"How old were we back then?" Morgan wondered, thinking about his daring act of finding flowers for Nah. "It was a pretty steep request of Naga to tell me to climb that cliff. Maybe she wanted to off me, knowing what I'd do in the future."

"I was thirteen, you were twelve," Nah answered, walking slowly and looking at the ground. "Seven years ago, if you want the math."

"There are worse things you could subject me to," Morgan laughed, pausing at just how warm Nah's hands were.

"When I found you in the woods, it reminded me of when you gave me those flowers. Underneath that brave facade was a simple, honest boy, who cared deeply for those that meant a lot to him."

"Boys grow up. Boys can act their age. Boys don't cause the deaths of thousands of innocents under the banner of an unholy resurrection."

"No... they don't. Morgan never did that either. Grima did."

"Morgan followed Grima willingly."

"She was your mother-"

"She WAS NOT MY MOTHER-" Morgan stopped himself, clutching Nah's hand tightly enough for her to feel his pain.

"My mother died an honest and loving woman," Morgan whimpered. "And when Grima came to me I could only see her. Not the blood and darkness coming from her words. I followed Grima like a fool, Nah. Blindly. Recklessly. A boy would do a lot of things to get his mother back. But there's a point where desperation turns into destructiveness. I murdered, Nah. No mother would demand that from their child. Especially not mine."

"Maybe you did. But it's over. The only thing we can do now is try-"

Morgan let go of Nah, turning completely to face her.

"I. Will not. Stay."

"I... I understand," Nah answered, still holding the Naga's bell in her other hand. "But I forgive you."

"I didn't kill you. I didn't tear your family apart. I didn't take anything from you!"

"And what if you did? What if you killed the only man I've ever loved?"

"She was always on his mind," Morgan answered without missing a beat. "But he's different now."

"Not so much, I think."

Nah knew she had Morgan's attention now. Morgan knew this too.

"What you're feeling... it's a weight too heavy to bear alone," Nah offered, holding his other hand and placing the flowers in them. Morgan held her gaze, smiling at her soft brown eyes as they glimmered in the moonlight. Were his mind at ease, maybe his would be shining too.

"You were there for me when I needed someone to trust. Now, I'm here for you."

"You can't trust me," the former tactician lamented, turning back towards his room.

"I want to take care of you, Morgan. I can."

"If I leave, what are you going to do to me?"

Nah backed up, trying not to upset the unstable man before her. She was playing with fire, but she had to brave it if it meant convincing her best friend to stay. Lucina didn't have the conviction, and no other Shepherd gave a dragon's ass about Morgan anymore.

The ones still here, anyway. If Owain or Inigo or Severa were here... Morgan would have stayed dead for sure.

"I can't let you leave," she ordered, standing between the Plegian King and his door. Morgan kept walking, but stopped an inch away. "I'm going to stop you if you try."

"If you kill me, you'll be a hero. Is that what you wanted?" Morgan dared ask, hating his choice of words at the moment.

But instead of anger, the Manakete only bled sadness. The exile recoiled quickly, trying to-

"...Please don't say that. You're my best friend, Morgan. More than that." Nah whimpered, grabbing Morgan and bringing him close to her small frame.

"Let go."

"I never have. I never will."

"I can't be the man you loved anymore."

"Try all you want then. So will I."

"I appreciate it, I do, but-" Morgan's words were cut off when Nah pressed her lips against his, a combination of her shorter height and his balance being off-center causing the both of them to smash into his door. Pushing the Manakete off of him, Morgan quickly turned away, rubbing his head.

"First of all, I miss that. Second... don't make me hurt you more than I have to. I'm going," he decreed, not much room for question. "Alone."

"Please don't," Nah pleaded, stepping closer before Morgan narrowed his eyes. "Don't take him from me."

Morgan smiled, rubbing his lips before they fell into a frown. Looking at the door, he slowly opened it and blocked the entrance with his body.

"I have to, Nah. The Morgan you remember would've kept that kiss going until dawn."

With that, Morgan entered his room and shut the door behind him.

As he sauntered to his bed, the tears came back and Morgan couldn't help but punch the wall next to his bed with anger and remorse. Wincing in pain, he collapsed into his sheets and hid under them, blocking out the world and Nah's quiet sobs. Or...

Morgan perked his ears.

Nothing?

"Morgan?"

Nah stood there, the door opened but with no attempt to intrude.

"I always forget to lock the door," Morgan laughed bitterly. "Okay, you win. Say what you will."

Closing her eyes, Nah entered the room, her steps gentle and subtle with no intent to harm. Walking to his resting form, She grabbed his head gently, kneeling to kiss him on the forehead as she tucked him in, the blanket not getting in the way of the gentle embrace she gave the young King.

"Find peace, if you can. But know that the boy who gave me these flowers and the man I found in the woods are one and the same. And he will always be closest to my heart. I... will eagerly await his return, even if it takes me the rest of eternity."

Wiping away his tears, she smiled back at him before turning around, rising to leave. Locking the door behind her, she smiled weakly to herself, her own tears finally allowed to drop out of sight. Nah's bitterness dissipated, being forced away in hopes that Morgan would recover without her help. She walked quickly, but not quick enough to hear Morgan's whimpers through the door.

"You ready to go, milord?"

Morgan rolled his eyes at Anna, nodding all the while. They were at the base of the Outrealm gate, the swirling portal several feet away casting an eerie hum over the normally silent woods.

"Thank you, if my words mean anything."

"They're not worth much, but a penny saved is a penny earned," the shop keeper replied. "Now c'mon. I may have all day but I don't want to lose it either."

King Morgan stood there, gazing at the portal in a mesmerized trance before turning around and looking at Ylisstol in the distance.

The flowers were starting to grow again.

A growth without a hand to impede it.

"For what it's worth, Anna, thank you. Again. Maybe I ordered you, but... thank you."

"You weren't a bad kid, Morgan. Just not a good one. Now get to it."

"...Hmm. Alright then," he sighed, stepping forward slowly. "Now how does this work?"

Anna snapped out of her mini trance, kneeling down to take off her knapsack. Humming as she fiddled through her bag, she dug her hand deep while looking for something within its depths.

"I just need a catalyst. It's in here somew- aha! Anyway, you said your goodbyes, right? Or did you want to go back? Remember, no turning around once you're through."

"I didn't gather any audience, either that or they didn't care. Let's be off."

Anna let out a breath, feeling a little bit of pity for her friend's daughter.

"They care, my King. Just not now. I vow to you we'll remember the good you've done."

"...I'd like that."

Before Morgan could take a step, Anna put her hand in front of him.

"Lucina had an order of her own, and I can't deny my Queen."

"...I asked you for this. Nicely. I can't stay in Archanea."

Anna widened her eyes, shaking her head.

"It's not that. You're still leaving. But Lucina asked me to... she knew you wanted to be in a place where you could start over. If you weren't going to come back, she asked that I at least find you a place where you can be nobody. Just a boy. One last time. Oh. And there's this."

The merchant pulled out a necklace from her pocket, its ornament being a simple crystal that glowed blue with a faint energy.

"The Exalt did her research. Made it herself, with a little help from my sisters. Use this if you ever want to see her again. This goes without saying, but it's connected to her. My Queen asked that of me, if you'll pardon my insubordination. Just in case you ever changed your mind. Maybe a second after. Maybe an eternity after."

"...I didn't think she would do that for me."

"Neither did I. But that's that."

Morgan put down his bag, reverently putting on the necklace that Lucina had made him. Hiding it under his shirt, the faint light pierced through the fabric, illuminating his skin.

"...When all is green again," he mused.

"We're a ways away, but if green is your thing, I think you'll like the place I found for you. Well, I had to pull a few strings, but I think you'll like the scenery. As it seems this is where one of your father's comrades lived."

The tactician's usual stare was replaced by an intense glaring, and Anna pursed her lips at his remark.

"Er... not Ylissean. Not even Archanean."

Morgan seemed to relax at that, lowering his shoulders.

"Huh? Then where?

"That's the surprise. Heard it's pretty over there, but that could just be my sister trying to get me jealous. After all, this place isn't much on scenery anymore, what with everyone rebuilding. The gravestones look prettier with the flowers and moss though. I wonder who planted those?"

"..."

"R-right, I talk too much. Oh well. Say hi to the sisters for me!"

With that, Morgan was pushed through the swirling energies and everything went black.

Kana decided it would be a good day to try her hair down for once, in honor of the festival. The celebration!

The fifth anniversary of her mother's death.

She paused as the flashbacks came, but with a little bit of focus, they went away. She would be strong, the dragon reassured herself. It was the five-year anniversary since the war against Nohr ended, and the survivors had a festival today to celebrate.

Yet, Kana was a Hoshidan Princess. Today was not about her victory, but about her loss. Hoshido lost many. They would never be forgotten as long as those who lived would honor them.

Trying on her ceremonial armor, she twirled around to admire its silver and black design before deciding something was missing. Sure, the armor was one and the same that her Father wore five years ago.

Give or take some... adjustments.

"Aha! I know just the thing!"

Hunting around her cabinet, she found the treasure she was looking for. Reaching for the navy blue bandana she wore as a child, she folded it in half and tied it around her neck loosely, the knot behind her neck hidden underneath her shoulder-length hair. While the two dog-ears of the bandana were more prominent as a child, Kana couldn't help but smile at the triangular blue cloth that hung underneath her chin. It matched so well with the cape her father, now Kana, wore. Twirling around again, she laughed as she danced on her bare feet, admiring her outfit.

"Well well! What do we have here? A Hoshidan princess wearing Nohrian armor?"

Kana turned around to see a very familiar face, grinning at the figure in her doorway.

"Shiro!"

The Hoshidan prince laughed as his younger cousin flew into his arms, nearly knocking him over from her weight.

"Hey to you too, Kana! Wow, you're getting big!"

For a woman who spent most of her childhood away from her family, she sure didn't grow like it. Kana looked a splitting image of her father, if her father was to be a female, if that made sense. It didn't to Shiro, but Kana just... matured. Overnight, it seems. Shiro cringed at the thought of his precious cousin growing up, but decided time had done little Kana well. She stood nearly at his shoulders now!

"I want to say I know what that means, but let's just assume you were talking about my height," Kana replied with a smirk, spinning around for emphasis.

"As pretty as you've become," Shiro laughed in equal boldness, "My little cousin can't possibly hold a candle to my dearest. Even if she tried."

"Well, how about this!" Kana yipped, leaping onto Shiro's shoulders with a childish roar. Well, as childish as being eighteen years old could sound.

"Aha, the Dragon princess rides the hulking beast to better get peaches from her tree! Haha!" Flailing her arms about, Kana laughed maniacally on Shiro's shoulders, nearly falling off from the rapid shifts in inertia along with the unstable platform below her.

"Oh gods, my back!" Shiro grimaced under the weight, staggering to a knee before standing back up timidly. "Kana, off!"

Kana flew off Shiro's back and rolled rather clumsily before righting herself, laughing at the prone Shiro who clutched his spine in agony.

"Hehe, sorry man. Guess I got a little heavier since we last did that," Kana giggled, before helping Shiro back to his feet.

"You sure did," Shiro acknowledged, smiling at his blue-haired cousin. "I daresay you don't look much like the little girl who would pick fruit off my back anymore."

"I guess I'm not, am I?" Kana nodded slowly, sighing as she sat in her chair.

I'm older. Lonelier.

"Is something the matter?"

The Prince took a seat next to his cousin, holding her hand gingerly.

"It's been five years, Shiro. Some things change. Some don't."

Shiro agreed with her sentiment, knowing what the anniversary meant for Kana and her father.

"You've grown, Kana. You're a wonderful young woman. A lot of people are happy for you."

"..."

"You look just as regal and beautiful as Princess Azura did," he stated quietly, causing Kana to frown even further.

"It shouldn't be did, it should be does! Damn- Darn it. She didn't have to..." stifling her own tears, Kana shook her head to ward off the thoughts. Her whimpers weren't silent though, causing the Hoshidan prince to grit his teeth.

"Sorry cuzzo. I shouldn't have brought it up-"

Kana wiped her face frantically, righting herself and forcing a bright smile.

"No. It's fine, really. If Papa can handle it without crying too much, then so can I!"

Shiro smiled at Kana's bravery and patted her shoulder. Kana grinned through her sniffling and stood up, as if nothing had shaken her will. Shiro decided to change the subject.

"How is the old man, anyway?"

Kana laughed at the thought, waving her arms around as she explained Prince Kamui's disposition. Gesturing to the chairs, she made her way to them and took a seat.

"He still sticks to his room usually, reading and sometimes traveling around Hoshido. He never really goes out that much though. He can't be outside for very long, especially not near the border or past it. You know how it is," Kana narrated, thinking of her father and his rapid descent into a pitiful existence of depression and regret.

"Still?"

"Some things change. Some don't," Kana repeated. That answered enough. Shiro nodded as well, looking upstairs as if Kamui would come down any second.

"He's strong, plus, he has a great daughter to take care of him," Shiro assured, patting Kana on the shoulder. The action jostled her bandana and she paused to re-tie it.

"Still wearing that blue thing?"

"Mama would put it around my neck when it was chilly outside," Kana explained. "Even now, I still feel... cold without it. I feel lonely, without it." For emphasis, she felt the cloth with her fingers, reminding her that it was there.

"No one minds, Kana. That armor is your father's, the bandana your mother's. It wouldn't be the same if they were missing."

"Y-yeah, I guess it is."

Taking a breath, Kana leaned back to stare at the ceiling, that is until Shiro sat down next to her.

"So, how have you been doing?" Shiro asked, poking Kana on the nose much to her annoyance.

"Hey! Well, I've been practicing the violin, a Nohrian instrument mind you, for today's performance. It's for... in honor of Aunt Elise who died during the war. It's a duet with Aunty Sakura, who's playing her koto."

"I'll be thrilled to hear it. You've been practicing?"

"I will capture the crowd and win their hearts, cousin. That's how I leave a good impression!"

I'll be the judge of that. But... I wonder, is there anyone in the crowd you're trying to impress?"

"Impress? Like my father? I guess I would want-"

"Boys, Kana," Shiro interrupted with a sly grin. Kana rolled her eyes in response.

"Oh please. Even if I found anyone worth my time... being a dragon is way more fun than... boys. Yuck!"

"Heh, say what you will, milady. Before you know it, you'll be holding a dragonstone in one hand and an engagement ring in the other!"

"Ew. And I thought I was the weird one."

"Some of my friends say you're cute. Take that as you will-"

"No, I'm not interested in anyone," Kana guessed, anticipating Shiro's question before he asked it. The lance-wielder merely shrugged before poking Kana again.

"You'll find someone soon enough, pretty princess."

"Yeah, yeah, I think not," Kana droned, thinking about who could possibly get along with a person like her.

"Well, I gotta go. See you at the festival, yeah?" Kana snapped back to reality and nodded briskly, hugging her cousin good-bye.

"Huh? Oh, of course, see you there!"

"Papa?"

"O-oh, Kana," Kamui breathed, not expecting anyone in his room. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he smiled reassuringly at his daughter. Admiring her outfit, he touched the silver plate in reminiscence, recalling the countless battles both he and the armor had endured together. "Wow, it's been a while since I wore that... it looks good on you."

Kana didn't mind that and instead held her father's shoulder. He was trembling, and by the looks of things, he didn't wake up on his own.

"The festival starts in a few hours," Kana notified. "Would you like some company?"

"Y-yeah," Kamui gulped, moving over on his bed for Kana to sit.

"It was a bad one, wasn't it?" the daughter asked, holding her father's hand gently.

"Yeah."

Five years ago, Corrin was a different man. But war brings out the best of men and deems their ideals unworthy. Disowning his country lost him the right to call himself his adopted name. So Kamui was, living an existence of loss and grief. He lost a wife, a child, a brother, and a sister to fate's designs. Then again, Shigure wasn't dead. He just ran away. But that made things even worse for Kamui, knowing his son was somewhere in the world, not needing his help.

At least his precious Kana was here.

"You look great in my armor," Kamui smiled, feeling his cape between his fingers and gazing at the sky-blue hair that his son and wife shared.

"What's wrong, Papa?" Kamui looked at the nineteen year old sadly, shaking his head.

"Just bad thoughts. Don't mind me."

"I'll do as I please," Kana smiled, hugging her father tightly. It was this physical contact that comforted the distraught prince at these times, and Kamui felt his heart rate slow to normal rates.

"You shouldn't be forced to stick with me during the festival," Kamui decided. "You're a grown-up now. You should see the world through your own eyes. Explore it with your own feet." Kana smiled but held her father tighter.

"I have seen it, Papa. And I've seen enough to know that you still need me around."

"I do, there's no getting around that. But... I want you to make your own choices too. I can take care of myself for a few hours."

"I doubt it," Kana laughed, "but if you insist Papa. I'll keep an eye on you from a distance!"

"Don't let me catch you," Kamui laughed, playing along with the joke.

"You'll be fine, Papa! Just... promise you'll watch my performance with Aunty Sakura!"

"Of course, Kana. I'll be there."

"Well, that wasn't too awful," Morgan hummed after concluding his plummet down a hill. Sure, it was steep, but Morgan had the illusion that he could navigate down the narrow path without much complication.

That is, until he tripped and fell nearly thirty feet onto his back.

Wincing, he got up and stumbled for a while before shaking it off, his backpack absorbing most of the impact. Then again, his spine should have been shattered in multiple places, yet he was walking fine.

"Right. So where am I?"

Everything was stony and pale, and the sky overhead was cloudy and faint. To the distance, he saw green and lighter tones of orange and pink, so naturally Morgan decided to head in that direction.

Feeling his chest quickly, Morgan sighed in relief as the jagged scar met the point of his crystal. His ticket back home.

But home wasn't Ylisse anymore. Home was that beautiful orange sunset in the distance.

"Miles of walking, psh. Anna, you could have done worse to me."

The walk was slow and uneventful. Morgan took his time, not in any rush to get anywhere. Flora and fauna sprawled all around him the closer he got to the irrigated soil, and the fallen prince admired the faint tones of life that had been so foreign to him in the abandoned woods of Ylisse.

No signs of human life thus far, aside from the few villages he saw scattered throughout the wayside. It was comforting to know that he wasn't just dropped off in the wilderness, at least.

"Then again... that wouldn't be too bad either."

"Talking to yourself, traveler?"

Morgan turned to see no one, and drew the sword on his back by reflex.

It was a man's voice. Calm and collected. Patient.

Stalking.

"Not anymore. I've never actually been robbed before, so forgive my manners if I'm unrehearsed. If you're here to gut me, stay out of the middle pouch. Everything else is free reign. I have... nowhere to be, actually."

No motion.

"Strange. You don't look Nohrian, or Hoshidan," the man's voice stated, and Morgan narrowed his eyes to the treeline above.

"Green? I've never actually met anyone with green hair."

Nah came to mind, but hers was much lighter.

The man looked surprised and dropped down deftly, no weapons to be seen.

"I'm one of a rare breed, it seems. So, what brings a traveler like you to Hoshido? Here for the festival?"

Hoshido? It sounded familiar, but... was it that fairy tale that Chrom would read him and Lucina?"

"Let's say I am," Morgan supposed, sword still drawn. "I've never been to a festival myself, but yes, I'm here for the festival."

"You're not from Nohr or Hoshido, are you, stranger?" Morgan narrowed his eyes at the man's perceptiveness. He supposed telling the truth wouldn't hurt.

"No. I doubt you've heard where I've come from." The green-haired man raised his eyebrows in challenge.

"Oh? I've been to my fair share of strange lands over the years."

"Ylisse."

The man stopped for a few seconds before grinning.

"Ah, that place. I remember."

"Wait, what?" Morgan stammered. They knew about Ylisse here?

"Come to think of it... your hair. It mirrors the other prince's hair quite fully. What was his name... Chrome? Chron?"

"Chrom," Morgan answered. "King of Ylisse, and my father. How do you know of us?"

"The real question is how you ended up in Hoshido," the man replied. "But to answer your question, Lord Corrin and I, along with some others, went through a portal a few years ago after some enemies fled through it. We met your father, as well as his knight and his sister on the other side."

"Frederick and Aunt Lissa. They're..."

"Yes, those were their names. You seem to have some familiarity with my home, as I do with yours."

"Corrin. I remember Father muttering that name a few times. Alright, so my cover is blown. I'm not a native, and I don't know anything about a festival. Who are you?"

"My name is Kaze, retainer to Lord Corrin and ninja of the Saizo clan. As you can guess, you are in Hoshido. I can accompany you to this festival, if you'd like."

"I don't see why not," Morgan sighed, lowering his blade before sheathing it.

"Do you have a name, traveler? Or perhaps a good story for the road?"

"I'm Morgan. Just... a traveler. ."

"Ah, but there's more to it than that, isn't there?"

Morgan tried not to wince too hard.

"There is."

Kaze raised a hand in pardon, shaking his head.

"It's none of my business, I mean no ill."

"You're guiding me to the festival. I owe it to you to be truthful."

The ninja nodded, allowing Morgan to go on.

"Once upon a time, I was King Morgan of Plegia, Son of King Chrom of Ylisse. Now, I'm just the traveler you see before you."

"So you are his son. What brings you away from your home?"

This time, Morgan's eyes betrayed it all.

"I... ran away. My sister was Queen of Ylisse, and a war was fought between us that claimed... too much. My home and my people are scattered. And I should have died."

"I see," Kaze remarked without stance. "And you are just a lad? Maybe yet to see his twentieth year?"

"I'm only nineteen," Morgan answered. "And I've seen too much to last a lifetime." Kaze nodded understandingly.

"So, you brand yourself an exile, coming here to seek peace?"

"Purpose."

"So you cast away your ties to home and arrive at Hoshido, just like my liege. Fate is strange."

Morgan shrugged, disregarding the claim. This wasn't fate. Everything, good or bad, was man's own doing. And there was a lot of good Morgan had yet to do before he could let himself cease.

"It's best I tell you now, Kaze; I am a murderer. I have the blood of innocents on my hands and beneath my feet, spilled for a selfish dream that would never come true. I have betrayed my family and my home... and my bloodline. Can your Lord say the same?"

"Maybe... he can," Kaze answered, slowly but surely.

Oh.

The traveler quickly raised his hands in apology. "W-well, surely he had a good reason."

"Perhaps he did. Perhaps you did. I don't know. History may one day write my Lord as a bringer of sorrow and blood. But I can tell you the story of birthright and love, if you will listen."

"I'm all ears," Morgan replied, listening in as the two began the walk to Hoshido.

"And if you may... I would like to tell mine."

And so, Morgan found himself in Corrin's shoes, finding Corrin, or Kamui as the prince preferred, to be in a similar vein of despair as he did.

"So his sister and older brother died in his arms," Morgan recalled, thinking about his own battle against Lucina, how she had impaled him through the chest with Falchion in the throne room of Ylisstol castle. He lasted pretty long, all things considered.

That was a good fight.

"Yes," Kaze answered. "And you fought a war against your own sister, because your country needed a king."

"A selfish boy needed his mother," Morgan corrected. "And thousands died because of that foolish child..."

"Perhaps it was selfish," Kaze consoled, "but it was not wrong."

"The deaths of thousands is very much wrong."

"I'm not saying their deaths were wrong. I'm saying that your desire to bring your mother back, your family back, was not wrong."

"I suppose. Kamui tried too, didn't he? And thousands paid the price for that naivety."

"He wanted to end the war without bloodshed. But as naive as that notion was, it was honest and pure. Just like yours."

"Hardly... but you're right, in a way. I can't- Whoa."

So this was the green Anna was talking about.

"Ah, I see you've noticed where the rocks and wasteland end, Hoshido begins. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to my country, King Morgan."

Stepping into Hoshido, Morgan was impressed by the lively colors, scents, and sights to be experienced all around him. It was beginning to reach dusk, and the sky had paled into a beautiful pink and dark blue which contrasted with the white and red's of Hoshido's architecture.

It took an hour or so to reach the main stretch of buildings, and by then the sunset had climaxed into a beautiful red, echoing Hoshido's walls.

"Welcome to Hoshido's capitol, Shirasigi. Perhaps I can have you meet Prince Kamui?"

"Are you sure? I mean, of course," Morgan answered. "I am in your debt, after all."

"Very well, King Morgan. I shall be off, and will find you wherever you may turn out to be. Enjoy the festival!"

With that, the ninja turned to depart but not before Morgan hesitantly grabbed his arm.

"Wait, before you go..."

"Yes, your grace?" Kaze responded, polite as ever. Morgan paused. For once in his life, he was unsure in himself. He stuttered at first, but asked his question.

"A man- Do you think... a man like me could rebuild my life here? Would Hoshido accept me?"

"That's for you to decide," Kaze answered cryptically. "But if you want the blunt truth? Yes. You can, and you should. Just... let the past stay the past. We all carry our dark secrets, to remind us that we're not so good a person. Something familiar to bring to the unknown beyond."

Morgan looked down, rubbing his finger along his scar.

"...I have no need for secrets anymore."

The sounds of a violin being tuned were heard, and Morgan's head turned for an instant. Turning back, Kaze had disappeared into the crowd.

"I guess disappearing comes naturally to him. Well, at least the instruments are similar over here. Let's take a look."

Nodding to himself, Morgan cracked a small laugh as he made way towards the sounds of music.

As the violinist's song began, Morgan meandered through the crowd to catch a glimpse of the performer. Finding a building near the stage that wasn't so crowded, Morgan stood there, peeking past the corner like a spy at the violinist a stone's throw away. She stood on a raised platform, smiling a bright smile just as lovely as the song she was starting to play. Next to her stood a slightly older woman playing a strange instrument that Morgan could guess was Chon'sin in origin by the sound. Going back to the violinist, he admired her sleek armor- wait. Why would a performer wear armor? And where were her shoes?

And she was pretty, but never mind that.

"Does everyone here have such strange hair colors?"

"Now that's a color you don't see too often," Kana wondered as her piece concluded, gazing at the blue-haired man who was watching her from behind a building. She caught his attention with a slight wave, catching him by surprise.

Shyly, but mustering in confidence, he waved back; the smile from Kana's mouth contagiously reaching his own.