(A/N): Contrary to what you may think, I am not actually dead! Trust me, I didn't want to wait this long to get this chapter out either. I got a job over the summer which took up most of my time then, and now school is kicking my ass, especially since it's my senior year. In all honesty, I'm... not too happy with this chapter. I'm basically forcing myself to release it rather than re-writing it because I know that if I don't release it now, I'll never get it out. But don't let me tell you your opinions! Just know that if you read this and feel disappointed, you aren't alone. Hopefully chapter 13 will come out a lot sooner. I'm at the mercy of my teachers, there.

Lucina found herself in a dark void, with nothing but black as far as the eye could see. She had no idea how she ended up there, why she was there, or how to escape. All she could do was wander aimlessly. Lucina called out for someone, anyone, but her words echoed throughout the nothingness. She reached for her sword, but found that the blade was missing from its sheathe. The princess felt helpless without Falchion; as it was the only memento of her father and the future she escaped in order to prevent. Then, in the distance, Lucina noticed a warm orange glow. A campfire? Perhaps an inn for travelers? She didn't know, but that didn't stop her from approaching it. As she got closer, however, she began to hear it. Screaming. Children crying out for their mothers, lovers calling for each other, people cursing the gods for the fate that they had been dealt.

The glow had revealed itself to be a raging fire burning Ylisstol to the ground. The castle hadn't been spared from the hungry flames as they consumed it. Risen soldiers marched the streets and hunted down those still alive. Lucina looked up to the sky and saw the silhouette of the Fell Dragon hovering over Ylisstol, his glowing red eyes barely visible through the smoke. Lucina was paralyzed by fear. The beast had killed her parents and the rest of the Shepherds, and was coming for her. Once again she reached for Falchion, but the sword was still missing.

She panicked and ran towards the castle for shelter, shoving aside Risen and Ylissean alike, and upon reaching the castle and entering the main hall, what she found terrified her. Laying on the ground, highlighted by moonlight peering in through a crack in the ceiling, was her own lifeless corpse. Her pose indicated that she was crawling along the ground, gravely injured and disarmed, as her arm was outstretched towards Falchion, which was just out of reach from her hand. Falchion itself was not free from harm either. It's blade had been shattered into several pieces as if it were made of glass. Despite this, it all paled in comparison to one detail that horrified Lucina. Stuck through Lucina's dead self was a sword she knew all too well…

The Eyelander.

Lucina woke up from her nightmare out of breath and covered in sweat. The morning sun was shining in through the window and the sound of the townspeople clamoring about as they went through their daily life could be heard. It had been a few weeks since Ylisse's victory against Plegia, but despite this, the future princess still felt anxiety about the future. She was unable to prevent Emmeryn's death despite her best efforts, which meant that all she could do now was wait a long two years before the conflict with Valm began, marking the beginning of the end. Lucina had been staying in an inn for the past month, and had been doing simple tasks for townsfolk to pass the time under the guise that she was simply an adventurer who decided to stop in Ylisse for a while.

After dwelling on her nightmare for a while, she got out of the bed and got dressed in her usual gear. She ate a quick breakfast, said goodbye to the innkeepers, and left the building. As she wandered the streets, Lucina overheard a couple of older women gossiping. Normally, she wouldn't pay attention to such a thing, but something they said caught her attention.

"Oh, did you hear about what happened at the Royal Wedding yesterday?!"

"I did! A woman in the audience objected to their union, and the prince called off the wedding!"

"What?!" Lucina exclaimed aloud, catching their attention. She approached the two. "What do you mean?! Tell me everything you know!"

"Gladly!" One of them said. "I'm sure you know that Prince Chrom proposed to Lady Sumia after the final battle against Plegia. Well, right when the priest asked if anybody objected to their union, some woman apparently kicked the door to the church open and yelled at them, saying things like 'I've always loved you, Chrom!' and cursing Sumia for apparently breaking a promise the two made to each other. Apparently, she was really, really drunk. Probably drinking away her depression, the poor thing… anywho, once her rant was over, Prince Chrom just… called the whole thing off! The details are pretty vague since only members of the Shepherds, some guards, and nobles from other nations were allowed to attend, but still! Scandalous, isn't it?"

"Do you know anything about the woman who objected?"

"Ah, well… Apparently she's one of the pegasus knights, like Sumia herself. My guess is that the two were friends before all of that happened. Jealousy can destroy lifelong friendships for sure."

"...I see. Thank you for your time." Lucina said before walking away. 'This is bad. Really bad. Sumia is my mother! If she doesn't marry Chrom… what happens to me?! How could this have possibly… wait. If Cordelia took up drinking to cope, then there's no doubt that she ran into… him.'

Tavish was pushed against a wall in the back alleys of Ylisstol behind the tavern he was a regular at by a rather angry Lucina.

"Gah! Bloody hell, lass! What's got ye riled up wit' me?!"

"You should know full and well what I'm angry about!" She shouted, slamming her fist into the wall, just inches away from his head. He gulped.

"Yer scary when yer angry, Blueberry. An' no, I don't know! How could I know?!"

Lucina stared at him for a moment before letting go of him. "The royal wedding. You had something to do with that, yes?" She said through gritted teeth.

"...Oh. Ya mean Cordelia? I swear, I didn't mean fer her to do that! I was just tryin' to cheer the poor girl up! I never told her 'Aye, you should crash a weddin'!' An' even then, the fact that Chrom actually left what's-her-face for Cordelia says more aboot 'im than it does fer me!"

"You don't get it!" She shouted. Her eyes seemed glassy, as if she were about to cry. "Sumia… she's my mother! Father can't just... I… I don't know what's going to happen to me! Am I just gonna vanish?! What about my sister?! A-And Cordelia's own daughter! What about her? I-" Lucina's rambling suddenly stopped when she felt an extremely harsh pain in her head, as if someone drove a pike straight through her skull. The pain was hard enough to cause her to stumble down to the ground and began retching.

"Are you alright, lass?!" Tavish kneeled down beside her. Blood began to trickle out of her nose as she groaned in pain. Lucina then realized what was going on. Her very memories were changing. Not only does she remember her childhood with Sumia as her mother and Cynthia as her sister, but new memories were flooding in with Cordelia in place of Sumia instead. Her past was being rewritten, and she was feeling every moment of it. These new memories weren't just simple things that one could imagine, they were real. She knows she experienced these, but at the same time she also knows she didn't, that it's not real, none of it is real! Who is she? Daughter of Sumia? Or daughter of Cordelia? The answer was yes for both of them, as well as no.

Lucina was whimpering as her mind was twisting and turning, conflicting with itself and being unable to figure out what was real and what wasn't. "M...Mother…" She mumbled before slipping into unconsciousness.

Tavish was wide-eyed, unsure to make of what he just witnessed. He lifted the girl up and wiped the blood off of her face with his sleeve before carrying her off to find some kind of doctor.

Meanwhile, Maribelle was in her room having tea with Lissa, as the two do almost religiously, even moreso now since they have the spare time ever since Plegia's defeat. The two were seated at a small table next to a window that overlooked the town below.

"Lissa, dear, tell me…" Maribelle set her teacup down on a little plate. "Do you have feelings for anyone? Ever since Chrom proposed to Sumia, marriage has been the only thing people are talking about these past few weeks, despite the utter disaster that was the wedding…"

Lissa laughed. "Yeah, that was wild, wasn't it? I'm not judging Chrom, though. He follows his heart, and if his heart told him that Cordelia was the right choice, then so be it! ...actually, no, I'm still judging him. Sumia hasn't even left her room since then. As for me liking anybody… I really don't know. I guess Lon'qu is pretty handsome… but he's afraid of women though, so he's kinda out of the question. How about yourself? I mean, I feel like I already know the answer to this one, but go for it!"

She raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

"Maribelle, it's impossible for you to keep a secret like that. Knocking on Tavish's door every other night? 'Accidentally' bumping into him in town? Always prying about what he was doing before now?"

Maribelle's cheeks flushed a bit. "I have no idea what you're talking about! My interest in the man is purely out of… erm… interest."

"Honestly, though. Out of everyone here, HE'S the man you're into? He's your polar opposite! He smells like alcohol all the time, he's always drunk, he's more vulgar than everyone here… He's the last person I'd think of! He goes against all of your prim and properness!"

"...There's more to it than that…" She said quietly.

Lissa grinned. "AHA! You're admitting to it!"

Maribelle looked out the window, frowning. "Only because I know you would keep pressing on until I finally gave in. I figured I might save myself the time! ...Yes, I'm quite aware Tavish is the complete opposite of what I would normally consider an ideal husband. But that's only when you look at the surface. Deep down, he's a gentle person who values family over everything, and one who would do anything for those he cares about. Besides, he's been through a lot."

"How could you know any of that?"

"Well, I… I may or may not have eavesdropped on him talking to that strange sword of his. You know, the one that talks that Muriel has been trying to convince him to lend her for research. They talk a lot about his previous life, but half of what they're talking about barely makes any sense! They talk of… whatever 'guns' are… points… payloads… but what intrigues me the most is the fact that… well, to put it simply, I believe Tavish is cursed."

"Cursed?"

She nodded. "I've heard him say that he's died before. Over and over again. He's experienced something hundreds of times more than any one man ever should or could. I remember a particularly gruesome tale… that he's died nearly every way imaginable. Being burnt alive, drowning, bombs, an arrow through the head, literally stabbed in the back, falling… and yet every time, he finds himself back in his barracks like nothing had happened. I… truly pity the man."

Lissa was wide-eyed. "...Dear Naga… no wonder he drinks so much… Normally I wouldn't believe you, but… wow."

"Now, don't think my feelings for him are purely out of pity! He's spoke a lot about his home, particularly his mother. He endured all of that pain purely for her. Many people could learn something from that man. He's ferocious on the battlefield too, no less."

"And a surprisingly good tactician! ...Though I feel like the reason we keep winning isn't because of his plan but more that we're just really lucky. I mean, come on, who thinks bringing bagpipes to a warzone and playing it to purposefully alert the enemy is a good idea?!"

Their conversation was interrupted by the gonging of a big clock in the room, signaling the end of their little tea party.

"Well, I wish you luck with your love life, Maribelle!" Lissa said as she stood up. "Your taste in men will always intrigue me."

"Oh, don't make fun!" Maribelle replied, frowning. With a giggle, Lissa turned and left the room.

A certain obsessive dark mage was locked away in her study with a certain cursed sword that she may or may not have stolen from Tavish's room while he was out drinking. The blade was laying flat on a table as she inspected every square inch of it's design, trying to figure the thing out… much to it's displeasure.

"Hey! Lady!" Eyelander exclaimed. "If you don't put me back in my room, I'll cut your head off!"

"Really?" Tharja replied with an uninterested tone. "I'm so scared. Please shut up before I toss you into a forge and melt you down back into an iron bar."

"I'm not just a lowly iron sword! I'm made from damascus steel imported directly from Syria! Slow-forged for generations in the bowels of captured English kings!"

"No, you're not. I don't even know what you're talking about, and frankly I don't care. What I want to know is what you're actually made out of."

Eyelander groaned. "Did you not just $%ing hear what I said?!"

"I did, and I say that you're lying. You're not made of metal."

"That doesn't even make any $%ing sense! Why do you even care so much about what I'm made out of?!"

"Because there's something about you that's drawing me to you. I feel an energy coming from you… an extremely dark energy. I love that kind of energy." She had a mischievous smile on her face.

"...Jesus Christ, you're weird. I've seen a lot of creepy shit in my lifetime, but you definitely take the cake on that."

"Though the thing is… You yourself isn't what I'm sensing. The curse put on this blade is something different entirely. The true power of this sword is in the sword itself, not some loudmouthed green aura that doesn't know when to shut up."

"I have a name, you know!"

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, really? Is it 'Eyelander'? What's a sword that's named after an eye have to do with heads?"

"Well… it's… i-it's complicated."

"I do know one thing for sure about you, however. You, the curse, have only been put on this blade relatively recently compared to it's lifespan. You're doing nothing but holding back this blade's true potential. I doubt the blade is truly called 'Eyelander'. I feel like I've seen this sword before… Oh well. I'm going to return you to Tavish's room, but if you say a word about this to him, I will destroy you. Understand?"

Eyelander yelped. "Y-Yeah. Got it."

The next two years for Tavish Finnegan DeGroot were long as he slowly but surely grew accustomed to his new way of life in an unfamiliar land. Unable to shake off his past life, he ended up creating a makeshift cannon ball launcher out of an old cannon that came off of a ship, deeming it the Loose Cannon. Strangely, he never saw the future Lucina again after the events that happened the day after the Royal Wedding. He ended up becoming a sort of uncle figure for the baby Lucina, as well as her recently newborn sister, Severa. Eventually, Tavish wound up marrying Maribelle, as over time he began to like the constant annoying visits at midnight.

However, the anxieties about what was happening in Teufort without him took their toll, as he began to search for ways to make it back home. Unfortunately for him, nothing seemed to work. He began craving the thrill of battle to take his mind off of it, as two years worth of peacetime is two years of boredom for a mercenary, despite knowing all of the terrors that come with that line of work. Fortunately, his wishes would soon come true, as a new conflict was beginning to emerge…

A soldier approached Chrom as he sat in the castle's throne room. "Sire, we have a messenger from Regna Ferox! She claims it's urgent!"

"See her in at once." Chrom said, standing up. The soldier nodded and left the room. Soon after, a woman clad in extremely bulky armor entered the room.

"Prince Chrom," She began. "I come on behalf of Khan Flavia of Regna Ferox!"

"Flavia?" He raised an eyebrow. "Is something amiss?"

"I'm afraid so, milord. It's Valm, our western neighbors. They're launching warships at us. They intend to conquer Regna Ferox, with Ylisse and Plegia coming next. In short…

We're being invaded."