AN: This is my new story, Awakening to Battle. While I never did finish my first story I'm putting it on hold for now so that I can improve my writing before I go back and rewrite it. The basic idea for the story is that a Blade Works route Shirou Emiya ends up in the world of Fire Emblem Awakening due to Kaleidoscope shenanigans. There he sees 'Marth's' sword and is able to put two and two together quite easily. *SPOILER WARNING* I know the game is several years old already but I'm still gonna warn people. If you don't want Fire Emblem Awakening's plot spoiled for you don't read this story. Even the first chapter has major spoilers for later in the game.

EDITED 3/16/2019 - Mainly adding paragraph breaks to make it more readable

Today had been completely normal by my own standards. Granted my standards had always been a little skewed, ever since the Fifth Grail War began almost five years ago my standards for normal had drifted away from what most would see as normal. Before then my days had been filled with close friends like Taiga and Sakura, school, a part time job working at a local pub, cooking, and practicing my magecraft. Now my time was spent with friends like Rin and Luvia, cooking, practicing magecraft, and my newer part time job of hunting Sealing Designates.

Put like that it didn't seem that all that much had changed. Now everything had been going as closely to normal as can be expected from my life until he stepped in. Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, Luvia and Rin's teacher and wielder of the Kaleidoscope, The Second True Magic, The Operation of Parallel Worlds. Now even this was 'normal' for me, he often launched me across the world or dimensions and had Rin or Luvia track me down as a test before I fell to whatever monstrosities inhabited where he had sent me.

I had always imagined travelling across dimensions would cause some discomfort or dizziness, and it did to a degree when I first experienced it, but since then I had gained some resistance to the effects, to the point where they were hardly noticeable. So, it was the mind searing pain that first alerted me that this was abnormal even for me.

When I arrived at my unexpected destination I was actually about fifteen meters in the air. Activating a single circuit I channeled prana into my legs as I prepared for the impact. I landed with a dull thud, knees bent and arms out to the side, ready to trace in case of foes. Reinforcing my hearing I listened for the swish of a weapon going through the air, in these kind if circumstances that was far too often my first and only warning. I heard it too but it was accompanie with the clashing of steel and the yells of battle. Improving my sight next I looked ahead, through some light brush, to see a clearing and the flames and sounds of battle coming from it.

While my first instinct was to charge in and try to end the fighting as soon as possible years on the battlefield had tempered those instincts into something somewhat productive, if inevitable. First was reconnaissance. Glancing around the forest I had found myself in I found a large enough tree. Climbing the trunk in leaps and bounds due to reinforced limbs I reached a branch high enough up to give me a good vantage but thick enough so that it could hold my weight with a little reinforcement on my part.

Glancing back towards the sounds of combat I had a much better view this time. It was less a battle and more a skirmish, with less than two dozen total combatants. The sides in the fight were easily identifiable, not because of set formations, or a coat of arms, or even consistent histories in their weapons. No, it was their humanity, or lack thereof, that told of their allegiance.

The first, and decidedly more human, side was comprised of a wide mix of troops. They wielded axes, swords, lances, bows. Two even seemed to be using a kind of mystic code, one a book that would launch electricity, and the other a jeweled rod that healed wounds. The others used weapons of metal, bows, axes, lances, and swords. Weapons that I was intimately familiar with after a glance.

Though they did not seem to use any practiced formation they all appeared to be trained or experienced warriors and moved about the battlefield with a sense of purpose. There was even a noticeable, overall strategy. It seemed to be directed by a white haired robed woman by what I could see. It was a stark contrast to what their opponents called battlefield tactics.

Shambling about and attacking with the ferocity of an animal or creature of instinct, lacking all tactics except for the basic concept of attack, what I could only call animated corpses charged the considerably more skilled and living combatants. They reminded me of the familiars of Dead Apostles, vampires who feed on blood of the living. Their victims would die and become mindless husks with nothing but a desire for blood as well.

The battle was a mismatch in every meaning of the word, and normally I would leave the battle to these experienced men and women. Allow them to exterminate their weaker and inhuman foe before continuing on my way. However there was one thing that worried me. Of the seven allied humans in the battle only one of their weapons held any history of killing these things. The rest had never crossed blades with these things before. And I could dismiss this if not for the long history some of the blades held. This meant that they were facing a new foe, an unknown one. A battle where new abilities and strange behavior could cause death at the smallest misstep. I would have to intervene.

Not because they would lose the battle or that people would die. But because they could die. And Shirou Emiya is not an existence that can allow death needlessly. Now I wish I could say that I had a tactical, intelligent approach. And I could easily come up with one. I had dozens of blades that would be anathema to the corpses, some more or less surely but at least one would work. I could easily alter them into arrows and destroy the abominations from my perch.

That would be the smart thing to do, not charge recklessly in like I had in my younger years, with no plans except to end the threat and save lives. But there were lives at immediate risk here by a foreign and unknown foe. And lack of information can be fatal in battle. All I can really say is, I guess some habits die hard. God I hope Rin doesn't find out about this.

Leaping from treetop to treetop I quickly neared the battle, jumping down from the last tree on my path I traced my favored pair of swords, Kanshou and Bakuya. Falling down I turned gravity into a double handed slash and severed both arms from one of my new opponents before beheading it with Kanshou. The blue haired man who had been dueling the thing blinked in surprise before smirking.

"And who are you friend?"

While my normal policy was that words were wasted breath on the battlefield, the question did deserve an answer, if a short one. "Shirou Emiya."

"Not a talkative one are you Shirou?" Watching as the swordsman moved forward to face another foe I matched his pace and charged my next target. Knocking away its overhand blow with Kanshou I spilled its guts with Bakuya before slicing its neck for good measure.

"Not on the battlefield I'm not," Pausing my reply I brought his sword to mind and reviewed its history. If I wasn't in battle I would say I was surprised, but emotion has no place in a sword or on a battlefield. "Chrom." Calling the name I pulled from his blade I hoped to end the conversation for the time or at least delay it until the fighting finished.

It must have worked because my only response was an entertained grunt as he knocked an opponent's guard wide before rolling out of the way of a bolt of lightning that ended the foe. It was an impressive display, few magus in the association I had seen could use such powerful electrical attacks. Its power was comparable to one of Caster's own attacks, though Caster launched dozens every second, all while maintaining flight, numerous defensive mysteries, and being ready to teleport at a moment's notice. Maybe it wasn't such a fair comparison though.

Pushing forwards the enemy was starting to rout, the remaining few dead putting up only token resistance except for one, markedly stronger than the others. Its bearing gave away its superior skill and strength as well as some basic intelligence. That one was the most dangerous, that would be the one I would kill. Bending low and rushing my objective with reinforced speed I watched as it noticed me and moved. It gave a short roar, like a animal on the hunt before hurling its axe at me. Flicking my wrist I sent Bakuya to deflect the axe, sending the axe to be buried into the ground and my sword into the air I held Kanshou and circled the walking corpse.

Following me with its eyes and turning my foe drew another axe from its back and charged me this time. It brought its blade around in a sweeping blow that I blocked with my own blade and locked the two. The being was strong for human standards but it could do little to push my reinforced strength even with two hands on his haft. It withdrew one hand from the weapon to try and claw me to death. But I only raised my hand in front of my face palm open. It was because It was so focused on trying to gut me that my foe never noticed the black spinning blade till it had cut through its neck and I had caught the sword in my open palm.

Pushing the now truly dead corpse and its axe off my blade I took a moment to observe the area for any remaining enemies before allowing the married swords to dissolve back into prana. Glancing around I quickly found two weapons that stood far above all other blades wielded in this battle. Hell, they even surpassed many of my own swords. That was only natural though, for the blades I found myself staring at were Noble Phantasms. Or would it be Noble Phantasm?

For despite being two separate blades they were the same Noble Phantasm. Not in the way that Kanshou and Bakuya were one C ranked phantasm and apart were considerably weaker, but that in both swords were two separate entities with the same name and history. Scratch that, near identical histories. One was the elder of the two by around three decades and the elder had never gone through this battle earlier in its history, only being wielded in this fight just now and lacking the experience that the younger had just now obtained. The sword, or swords, were Falchion.

Not a falchion like the dozens I possessed in my Bladeworks, but the Falchion. A sword forged by the dragon goddess Naga from her own fang, made for the purpose of empowering humans with the ability to slay other dragons, both to protect the weaker species and to end the dragons who had been cursed with madness.

But it was not the creation of the sword/s that interested me, nor was it their millennia long past that had me dumbfounded. It was those three short decades that existed in one sword but not the other that had me concerned. Because for all the war and tragedy in the sword's history it was just that, history. It was all in the past, deaths that had occurred and wars that had ended. They were like any other history or past dealings, relevant only in how they will shape the future, they were not the future itself. But that wasn't true for the history of the elder Falchion.

Three decades were described in the sword that did not exist in what was otherwise its mirror image. They described three wars against nations I had no context for, dozens of battles, hundreds of skirmishes, and countless deaths. But the most important part of all that history was what came after the third war, the one that was lost by Falchion and this one's former wielder. The war where Exalt Chrom of Ylisse would die and Falchion would be handed down to Lucina, later known as The Last Exalt. The war that would mark the beginning of what could only be called an apocalypse. A broken world populated by a few small groups of survivors and innumerable of these dead. These Risen as the sword called them.

And that was why there were two Falchions here, on this battlefield. One was the sword wielded by Lucina as she journeyed to find Naga and ask her aid in defeating these Risen and their master, Grima. She had gotten her aid but it was not in the form of a weapon to kill Grima or a powerful ally. It was in the form of what I would call a True Magic. A form of magecraft so powerful that it broke the laws of reality as known by science. Causing a feat that would be impossible through any other known means. Lucina and her companions had been sent backwards in time to avert the crisis entirely.

That was the story of Falchion, Chrom, and Lucina, and it was a story I could not accept. It went against everything that I was, to allow so many deaths for no reason. To see so much destruction, it was like that very fire I was born from, forged in. Except on an even more massive scale. Where that fire had claimed hundreds the dragon Grima would slay millions. Every building a city, every block a nation. The only difference other than scale would be recovery. My home town of Fuyuki healed, the fire left a scar but that was it. There would be no healing for this world, only death. And I couldn't allow that, it was anathema to my very nature, went against the very ideal I had possessed, inherited from my father Kiritsugu, to save. So rather than leaving this place, spiriting away to hide myself in anonymity until Rin, Luvia, or even Zelretch came to retrieve me I instead moved forwards.

Looking at the two of them at first there appeared to be nothing similar, only differences. One had their armor neat and tidy, despite the battle they had just fought. The other didn't even wear a full set, wearing armor on only one arm leaving the other bare except for a gloved hand. His cape was torn and worn along the bottom from being dragged while hers was clean except for a few spots of blood shed during the fighting. Her hair was neat, and combed back as she disguised her gender. His was shaggy and wild, likely the same look it had when he awoke that morning.

She wore a small metal mask, concealing both her features and emotions. He wore his heart on his sleeve, I could read his emotions like a book, or more aptly a sword in my case. Even their postures were in contrast. She was straight backed and official while he slouched and leaned on his sword of all things. If he weren't necessary to the world's survival I would've strangled him right there for disrespecting such a ancient and powerful blade. But knowing their relation and what to look for I could see those similarities between the two that shone through where most important. Looking at the histories of their swords I saw even more. And not just similarities in the design of their armor and the color of their hair. Or even the fact that they held the same blade.

Things like how they checked their allies wounds before tending their own. Chrom had checked over a younger blonde girl, likely his sister by the way they acted, the same white haired girl that had acted as a tactician during the battle, and even the large man who had been ever present at his side. He appeared to be a kind of bodyguard or handler. Someone to guarantee he survived even in the chaos of battle and to aid him outside of it. My theory on his purpose was supported because the whole time Chrom was inspecting others wounds this man was fussing over Chrom's.

Lucina herself seemed to be reigning herself in, whether to conceal her identity or merely as a part of the aloof persona she seemed to be constructing, however she did take the occasional glance at those who had been wounded during the fighting. Even following the blonde girl, a healer apparently, with her eyes while she went about her duties. The both of them also kept themselves in similar ready positions. Despite being relaxed Chrom's legs were tense enough that he could react and move quickly, and though her upper body was rigid her legs were lax enough that she could still move freely. Both had a hand on the pommel of their sword, despite Lucina's Falchion being seathed and Chrom's still an inch into the ground.

With their hand on the pommel they could draw their sword quickly but still didn't limit the ways they could draw it as you would by holding the grip. They even reacted the same to being approached from the back. Leaping forwards several feet and turning to face the surprise their swords were drawn before they landed. The biggest difference was that where Chrom had the blade in one hand to his side Lucina held hers in both hands perpendicular to her body and above her head. It was a stance that looked like the bastard child of one used to wielding a greatsword and a rapier. Though it did shock me just as much as them. What were they expecting, an attack? I mean what kind of assassin shouts hey before sneaking up on you?

"I think you two are wound a little too tight." I snarked at them. No matter how much I hated the bastard I did seem to be picking up more than just swords from Archer. The man had been Shirou Emiya after all, even if I would never become him the similarities between us would be vast. Like a funhouse mirror, despite being the same image the minor distortions between us mark all the difference.

"Shirou right?" Chrom called, recognizing me from our earlier short conservation. "I suppose the battle does have us a bit on edge. To see such monsters come out of nowhere in the middle of the night. Bandits are one thing but to be taken by surprise by such things as these. Maybe we should actually be a little more on guard."

"It was probably our fault to begin with." It was the white haired woman who spoke this time. I had noticed her giving orders on the battlefield earlier. She wasn't a commander or military officer based on her outfit, dark grey robes with a purple motif. And even if she was Chrom would've outsripped her in rank. A tactician then I suppose, a recent recruit too if her unfamiliarity with her allies meant anything. "We had no actual guard or night watch. We assumed we were too deep in allied territory to be attacked."

"And on the battlefield, assumptions get you killed." It was one of many lessons that Saber had driven into my head. It had only been reinforced by the experiences I had gained from Archer and my own time on the battlefield.

"Right, in the future we'll have to keep a night watch, no matter how safe our campsite may be an attack is always a possibility. The name's Robin by the way. Though I'm new I'm the Shepherd's tactician. From what I've been told the Shepherds are a knight order of Ylisse, dealing mainly in bandits and rural defence." As the now named Robin extended her hand she spoke and I grasped the proffered limb and gave my own name in return.

"Shirou Emiya. Though I didn't come over here to talk to you or Chrom, miss. It was actually you who I wanted to talk to." I turned to face the woman I knew was actually Lucina even as I spoke. I didn't voice her name for I knew she would be concealing her identity and instead allowed her to give me her chosen alias.

"Marth." It seemed she was even less prone to talking as 'Marth' than I was on the battlefield. But regardless this conversation had to happen, though most likely it would have to occur further from prying eyes like her father and the tactician.

"Of course your name is Marth." Marth, though not Falchion's first wielder he was one of the strongest and the most famous. He was also the last wielder to use the blade against a dragon on Grima's level slaying the dragon Medeus. Other dragons had fallen to the sword since but compared to Grima they were weak. It was like comparing an average Enforcer to a Servant. Sure, the Enforcer was strong and could slaughter any number of mundane people, but most Heroic Spirits could end any number of Enforcers just as easily. There was a reason why the overseer for the Grail Wars only worked to conceal the aftermath of the Servants' battles and not stop or limit them.

"Anyway Marth, I wanted to talk to you about your mission here. I was wondering if you were recruiting." It was there that I truly caught her attention. Before I was another variable, an unknown. She had never heard of me in her future. But based on the skill I had shown in the fight earlier she should have. I was strong enough to cut down Risen like grain. Though not rare that kind of strength was uncommon enough to warrant attention. Which meant I had either died or left the continent before shit started to go down. That marked me as an unknown. Something that could cause or solve problems with equal potency. And the best way to control unknown factors was to keep them close at hand.

I couldn't actually see much of her thought process, between her mask and iron posture. But the little I did see had me believing that her thoughts had turned much the same as my own. I knew the deal was sealed when she spoke again. "Follow me." Turning around she began to lead me into the forest surrounding the former battlefield. Putting a hand up to wave as a form of good bye to the Shepherd's I took a few quick steps to catch up before falling into pace several steps behind her.

It was several minutes of silence before my guide spoke up again. "Stop, here should be far enough that no one will hear us. Now, what is it that you know of my mission?" Now it was here that I had to tread carefully. I needed to accomplish two things, first was to make her understand and accept me as an ally. And the second was to make clear that my knowledge on the situation was as extensive as Falchion's history. Doing the both without damaging what little trust I may have by laying bare her secrets would be difficult. But, hopefully, not impossible.

"I know you are here to prevent Grima's resurrection, and I know that Marth isn't your real name, it's Lucina. But that's your story to tell not mine." Start slow, show some knowledge but also a willingness to keep it secret. Even with the little I had said I could sense her tensing. I wasn't some random swordsman with good skill and bad luck. I knew something, potentially a lot of things.

"And how exactly do you know that?" Her hand has shifted from her hip too her hilt. Not a good sign for me all things said.

"Despite my earlier performance I'm actually a magus. Though my own general skills are quite bad the few areas I specialize in I am quite skilled. There's really only three though, self-enhancement magic, reinforcement, a form of conjuration, creating temporary physical objects, that I call tracing, and a type of object reading that allows me to see an item's materials, creation and even its history, known as structural analysis. While I'm good with all three types of magic I really excel when I apply them to swords. I quite literally read your history from Falchion, and after comparing it with Chrom's I saw a very limited story of the future."

I could see her mulling it over. Her hand was less ready to draw her blade and more tapping the handle at thought now. It was when she saw me glancing at both the sword and her hand that she became conscious of it and stopped. "While that does explain how you know my name and objective it doesn't explain why you would want to help me. For someone from the future like me going into the past was a form of salvation. And not just in that it gave me a chance to save the world. But also that I myself was saved from that future. For someone from this time it's more of a suicidal mission. To try and stop a god."

It was a good point. Even with just the limited history I was getting from Falchion I could see so many battles and challenges ahead of us. More battles and deaths than most would see in a lifetime packed into a couple of years. But that was fine. My first memories were of fire and death. I was less than ten and yet I had seen more death than most people in the world ever would. That even applied in a world like this one, with considerably less peace than the one I came from. They would be my last memories too, as I wandered from battle to battle till I fell. Unknown to Death. Nor known to Life.

"For the same reason you do. You chose to abandon those few living people in the future in order to save everyone else in the past. I choose to save everyone in this world who would otherwise fall to Grima. Even if the cost of that choice is my own life." She almost lost to rage when I accused her of abandoning those in her future. It was only as I continued to speak did she calm. She still seemed a little peeved at the end but was disregarding that feeling.

"Fine then, if you so desire to fight by my side I'll allow it, but you follow my orders, I am in charge here and you will have to respect that. Understood." It shouldn't have surprised me that she wanted to be in charge. This was her mission, her nation, and her fight. I was an outsider, even more so than she knew. Still, subservience was a small price to pay for the extra knowledge both of this world and the future that she held. Falchion couldn't tell me everything. It was a sword after all, for all the battles it had fought it never sat in on a peace summit or alliance talks. Hadn't been there to guard against or slay every assassin. There were things the sword couldn't tell me, gaps that needed to be filled. So, I accepted her offer to the letter.

"Of course, commander." Alright, maybe I didn't quite follow the respect part. Though I will always blame Archer for my sarcasm.