Yarne was going to die.

He thought that a lot, but he was certain of it this time. He had ten – no, eleven – Risen on his fluffy tail. He wasn't sure how long he could outrun them, didn't know how long he could stay on his own four paws, even if his pursuers were literal sacks of flesh and scariness.

Stupid Risen. At least they never had to worry about safeguarding an entire species. There were literally hundreds of them. Yarne wished there were hundreds of him. Then he wouldn't have to be so nervous all the time.

Something exploded in front of him and he yelped, quickly throwing his weight to the left and bolting off down another alleyway. He'd never gotten used to having buildings blow up in his face. He wasn't used to seeing his home city overrun and on fire, either, but he didn't have time to ponder that. He was trying to prevent the extinction of an entire species.

Of course, that burden usually wasn't only on him, but since he had no earthly idea where his sister was, he had to assume that she had died horribly and he was the last hope for his race. That was his rule. Unless he could actually see another taguel at that very moment, he was almost definitely the last one. It had kept him from going extinct so far, and if it worked, there was no reason to fix it.

He didn't realize until too late that his sudden turn had led him down a dead end. He scrabbled to a stop, his paws gaining little traction on the ash-coated cobblestones. His heart pounded in his chest too fast. He could feel his whiskers twitching.

He whirled to face the Risen approaching him down the alleyway, saw that the walls were sheer stone on either side, and gulped. No escape.

The Risen leader seemed in no hurry to reach him. It lumbered rather than walked, its head twitching back and forth like a grotesque clockwork bird's, and the axe in its hand had a wicked curve to it that just screamed "extinction". He'd faced hundreds of Risen, but this one somehow managed to be scarier than the rest of them. Then again, he'd thought that about the last one he'd fought. And the one before that...

Yarne clenched his claws into the ground, trying to find his courage. Eleven Risen wasn't so bad. Was it?

No, it wasn't. Eleven Risen was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.Except for Mom dying. And Dad dying. Maybe it was in a close third. Or fourth...

"D-don't come any closer," he warned, but his voice squeaked unconvincingly. "I've got claws!"

The Risen leader snarled, an animal sound that did not match its humanoid appearance, and when it moved, it was faster than Yarne had thought possible. The Risen's sheer speed always took him by surprise, but Yarne had a lot of practice reacting to surprises. The axe came down with a heavy whoosh, and Yarne was gone before it came anywhere near him.

He whirled, throwing his body weight around until his back was to the Risen, and kicked outwards with his hind legs. They connected with a satisfying thump, and the Risen stumbled back, grunting. Yarne's position was now exposed, but he had no intention to continue fighting. Instead, he used his opponent to boost himself, harnessing the force of his push to launch himself upwards, toward the roofs that closed the alley from everything around it. Yarne soared upwards, knocking the Risen down with his body weight, congratulating himself on his own brilliance. He reached out to land on the approaching ledge.

And missed it.

Yarne hit the side of the roof with his chest. For a horrifying moment, his front paws scrabbled against the tiles with nothing to grab, while his back paws kicked for the wall and found nothing but air. He slipped backwards, lost his grip on the surface entirely, and fell twenty feet to the cobblestones.

He landed on his back. All the air went from his lungs. For longer than he should have, he lay stunned, staring up at the sooty sky and wondering what had happened. It took him a long moment to realize he had lost his beaststone on impact, and he was lying on the ground in human form, unarmed and unaided.

Struggling for air, he flipped himself onto his hands and knees, feeling around in the dark for his weapon, knowing it couldn't have gone far. The Risen leader was climbing very slowly to its feet, and the deliberateness of its movements served only to make it more intimidating, not less. Its squad was still far away, at the other end of the alley, but they would arrive before long. Slow and steady. There was no reason to be concerned about a single, unarmed taguel, alone in an alleyway. Yarne wasn't even sure they could feel concern.

This really was the end, then. The Risen leader had reached him now, its scorching eyes lavender in the half-darkness. The burning building cast the Risen's silhouette in searing amber, and firelight glittered off the sharp edge of the weapon it raised above its head. Yarne didn't know whether to guard his face or try to get away, and his moment of indecision paralyzed him, leaving him at the mercy of the weapon as it came down.

Or... not?

Yarne didn't know why the Risen had stopped, didn't know why it was still standing dumbly in front of him with its weapon over its head, until the light in its eyes faded away. His eyes went to its abdomen, and the point of the glimmering blade which had been thrust through it, and he understood.

The sword was gone from the Risen's flesh, and it disintegrated, its weapon dropping to the ground beside the pile of dust it left behind. In its place stood his sister, her cape flowing in the drafts from the burning building, her face set in that same expression of intense seriousness that it had worn ever since this had all started. Her brows were pressed together, giving an impression of concentration that was only emphasized by the lines that marked the sides of her face. Her sapphire hair lay in disarray around her shoulders. Her ears were in disorder too, her right one lying over her left shoulder and the other turned inside out and sticking straight up at the base, like it always did when she ran too fast.

Lucina looked at him, her serious expression transforming to one of concern. She quickly extended a hand to him, her brows somehow managing to get even closer to one another. "Yarne. Are you all right?"

The taguel leapt to his feet without accepting help. "All right? All right, Lucina? I'm fine! What are you doing here? We can't have both of us die!" He waved his arms at her. "You're a taguel and the exalt! Well, technically. Before the world ended. What I'm saying is you can't die. You have to get out of here."

"Your life is every bit as important as mine, little brother, and don't you ever say it isn't again." Her face was so stern that Yarne was suddenly struck the impression that he had done something wrong.

"Right," he said. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize." She pressed a beaststone into his hand and gave a nod. "I'm here with you. We'll hold them off together."

"Could you just... boost me to a roof, instead? And I'll pull you up after me. I mean it's not like these guys are moving too quick, I'm sure we have plenty –"

An arrow clattered into the wall behind him, narrowly missing Yarne's head. He yelped and ducked, if ineffectually. Lucina whirled, and the way she spun Falchion reminded Yarne of their father, as though it were part of her body, an appendage she'd had for years.

Yarne's hand closed around the beaststone. He knew what that meant.

It meant they were going to fight. And it meant they were going to survive.

"What was it that Mom used to say in situations like this?" Yarne asked, trying to make himself less nervous by getting his sister to talk. Lucina's voice had always had the tendency to put him at ease.

His sister frowned. "Um. No hopping in the house?"

"No. Like when she was helping us train."

Lucina nodded as though she had remembered. "Stop hitting your brother so hard."

Yarne shook his head. "No, about why we train. We must win, or something. The taguel... are fighters?"

"The taguel must live," Lucina said, and the absurd position of her ears somehow only managed to make her words more encouraging to Yarne. She was his sister. She was the princess, and he was the prince, with the blood of the exalt running strong in their veins. And they were the last of their kind.

Yarne nodded.

"Yeah. The taguel must live."