Birth and Re-Death: Three Year Anniversary Special

Chapter 44: Reunion

Finally, he can't contain his bottled-up rage any longer. With an animalistic roar, he slams his hand into the ground. A massive spike of dark magic explodes upward into the trunk of a nearby tree, cracking the trunk in multiple places with a terrifying SNAP. Then, hundreds of smaller spikes shoot out from the first, shattering the dead tree altogether. For a tense moment, the only sound around us is the cascading shower of wood chips littering the forest floor.

I give Regulus a glance. He looks even more scared than I feel. I guess I've had more time to adjust to his… volatility. Still, he's never been close to this angry before. It's a good thing we put a decent amount of distance between us and the villa before he lost his composure.

I'm scared to say anything, but if someone doesn't try to calm him down, I don't know what he may do. "What happened?" I ask as quietly as possible.

He closes the gap between us in a fraction of a second, sending a chill down my spine as he seems to simply appear in front of me. "That fucking woman. I knew she was going to be there. I didn't know what… what I would do when I saw her. I thought I had it under control."

"Woman? Do you mean the vessel? Robin?" I ask.

He winces at the sound of her name. "Yes… Her."

"Are you going to be alright?" I ask. I'm not sure what to do. How do you console an angry god?

"It's fine. It went according to plan. But I was THIS CLOSE," he holds up a thumb and forefinger infinitesimally close together, "to ruining EVERYTHING. I was about to blow her to hell. What would we have done then, huh?"

"Forgive me, but I feel like I'm several steps behind. Why is she necessary? You already inhabit what appears to be a suitable vessel. Why do you need her?" I ask.

"Because if I just kill her and be done with it, she gets off much, much too easily," he snarls. "This world is going to get a lot more interesting, and she must be around to see it."

I sense he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. At least he seems to have calmed down some. His fists relax, and his breathing slows. He pulls back his hood and shakes his head. I'm surprised to see small traces of grey hair on his head. When I first saw his true face, he was completely bald. His eyes were always wide, staring with hungry interest. He smiled, yes, but it was the smile of a half-starved man about to devour a piece of flesh. He looked… unhinged. But now he's starting to look more composed. His speaking, too, has changed. When I first met him, he spoke so strangely, as if he only loosely remembered how to speak. But now he rarely repeats himself or stutters. It's as if I'm watching a sick man recover before my eyes, day by day.

And yet, today he is angrier than I've ever seen him. For all the trappings of a man he's slowly putting on to blend in, there is a beast lying beneath. The Fell Dragon.

Is this the true nature of Grima?

I haven't laughed like this in months. Future!Me might be an intimidating ideal to try to live up to, but there can be no doubt he was also me. And he had a lot more time to think about all the stuff from back home that I've never had time to sit down and recollect. He found creative ways to tell the kids all kinds of stories, from Lord of the Rings (a pretty easy adaptation, relatively speaking) to Wayne's World (considerably altered, but just hearing Lucina use the phrase "psycho hosebeast" was a treat). According to her, his storytelling and music-playing were the highlights of many a birthday party over the years.

It's a little nice to hear about stuff like this. Stuff that helps me see where the connecting lines are between me and him. As odd as it sounds in my head, something about Lucina knowing the words to "Wonderboy" by heart makes me feel better about myself.

Speaking of which, she's really belting it.

"Wooonderbooooy~

What is the secret of your power?

Wonderboy,

Won't you take me far awaaay from the mucky-muck, man?"

She finishes her performance with a bow while I regale her with all the thunderous applause two hands can provide, both of us laughing all the while.

"Gods, I haven't sung that in ages," she says through her giggling. "It was always one of Owain and Cynthia's favorites. When they were little, they would fight over who got to be Wonderboy and who had to be Young Nastyman. But as we got older, Owain got more fond of… dark things. He insisted we call him Owain Dark, he was always going on about his sword hand's 'lust for blood,' that kind of thing. When he entered that phase, he wasn't so bothered by being cast as Young Nastyman anymore."

"That sounds like him, yeah," I reply. "God, I bet those two were more than a handful."

"They certainly demanded a great deal of your attention. I guess most of us did, in our own way. But their way was certainly more overt, to say the least. Even before everything… happened, poor Cynthia would just hang on your every word. She was starstruck every time you visited. Owain at least tried to have a little bit of modesty about it, but to Cynthia, you were a second father in every way. I think it's because you and Gaius always got along so well and were so much alike."

"Huh. I guess I hadn't really thought about it like that, but we are pretty alike, huh?" I say, then I realize something. "Hang on just a minute! You're breaking the rules! No telling me who people's parents are!"

She claps her hands over her mouth. "I'm sorry! It just slipped out!"

I hold onto my faux-irritation for just a second longer, then wave a hand dismissively. "I guess it's fine. I've already caught Gaius and Sumia skinny-dipping together, so I pretty much knew. Or had a pretty good idea anyway." If I've learned anything from my time with Maribelle, it's that the whole S-support thing is anything but a one-and-done. Even in fantasy land, breakups are a reality. But it's nice to know that at least as far as the future-past is concerned, that's not something for Gaius and Sumia to worry about.

Lucina looks rather sheepish for a moment, but then her eyebrows rise as a thought occurs to her. "Hold on yourself! How did you know that Sumia was Cynthia's mother?"

Oh shit. See, this is exactly what I wanted to avoid! "Ugh. It's a little complicated. Some of the knowledge I have is like, weirdly specific. Case in point, moms. I'm pretty sure I know who the mother of nearly every future child is. It's matching up the fathers that I don't know."

She stares at me as we walk. "Uncle Randy, are you messing with me?"

"No! I'm serious! This is why I didn't want to talk about who's the parent of which kid! It gets all kinds of confusing."

"Well, I'm certainly confused."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Me too, Luci. But yes. As weird as it sounds, I know who everyone's mom is, but not their dad. I have a few pretty strong ideas about dads, like Kellam and now, thanks to you, Gaius. Actually, come to think of it, I think you spilled the beans on another one like ages ago. Can't remember who exactly right now. Anyway, just, you know, try not to do that?"

She sighs. "Fine. Can I finish saying what I was going to say, though? About Gaius?"

I shrug. "Why not? That particular cat's out of the bag anyway, and it sounded like it was important."

"Most of us were still pretty young when everything happened, so we don't have that many memories of our parents all being together. But I definitely remember you and Gaius together. I remember how much it hurt for you when he and Sumia didn't come back from one of the early fights after Grima returned. But to me it's only proof of how strong the bonds the Shepherds have with each other are. I've been watching the Shepherds from a distance for a while, as you know, and I'm surprised at how familiar it all feels. All of you really were companions for life, no matter how far apart your lives took you."

"Well this time, we're going to make sure you kids have plenty of time to make as many memories as you want," I say. "Even if this timeline has derailed so hard I can't make head nor tail of it, so far the changes have been mostly okay. It's caused this war to have to go the long way around, but we saved Emmeryn. A lot of people that would have died are still alive. It's been a long and crazy road, but I still have faith the destination will be good."

Lucina laughs quietly through her nose. "I have faith too. It's been rough on the Shepherds without you there, but now that we're going to see them again, everything's going to be alright."

I grin. "Everyone misses me, huh? Are they gonna be just ecstatic to see me? Are the ladies gonna be throwing themselves at me?"

Lucina rolls her eyes. "You're so humble, Uncle Randy."

"You noticed!"

"But yes. I'm sure everyone will be pleased to see you again," she says, trying and failing to stifle a smile.

I don't make an effort to contain mine. "I will be too."

I stare at the silver armor plates, laid out on the table in front of me as if worn by an invisible man lying on his back. Part of me wonders if that was how he lay back when he…

"Chrom?"

I jump, startled. I'm relieved when I turn and see that it's just Lissa. "You scared me, Lissa. What is it?"

"What are you…? Is that what I think it is?" she asks as the armor catches her eye.

"It is. I decided to bring it with us when we left for Themis. I was hoping we wouldn't need it, but… well, I am the acting Exalt. Maybe it's time I try to look the part." I lift the sturdy chest piece off the table and examine it. "Still in pristine condition, some fifteen-plus years later." You almost wouldn't know he was murdered wearing it.

"You're going to wear it?" Lissa asks hesitantly.

"I am. For one thing, I think it's about time I actually start wearing proper armor in battle. I do like having my sword arm free to move as much as possible, but when I change up my fighting style, I need to be able to count on defense."

"Changing your fighting style? What do you mean?"

I lay my hand on the Fire Emblem. "I think it's time to bring the Emblem out of retirement."

"You're going to use it in battle for real?" Lissa asks. "Why?"

"Our family has passed this shield down generation to generation, as far back as the days of the Hero-King. It's hard to say what exactly its power is on a literal level, but… when I hold it, I can feel those thousands of years. Those who kept the Emblem safe, knowing that it might be needed one day. And right now, we need all the help we can get. Don't worry, I've been training for this for a while now. Frederick and Gregor have been showing me how to work with a shield on the battlefield. I'm ready."

"I see. And the armor is supposed to help you protect yourself even more since you can't be all about speed anymore," Lissa says, tracing a finger along one of the intricate patterns on the Emblem's surface.

"Our father… my thoughts on that man are complicated. But Emm has taught me that the mistakes of the past aren't just a stain forever. They can be a stepping stone. The last man who wore this armor died before he could even think about redeeming himself. But our country has come such a long way since then. We have to be a part of that. We have to shoulder our father's mistakes, because they aren't truly gone yet. They turned Gangrel into a madman. They cast our countries back into war for a second time."

I reach out and pick up the chest piece. I can make out my own reflection on its surface, warped slightly from the curvature of the metal, but still definitely me. "But we can be more than the mistakes of the past. Emm believed that, so I will too."

Lissa quietly wraps her arms around my chest from the side. "I'll believe that too, Chrom. As long as you promise to stay safe."

I laugh a little. "Well, even if I don't, that's why you're so important. You put me back together when I fall short of keeping myself safe."

She snorts. "We both know you'd rather have Maribelle stitching you up."

"Pff. Shuddup."

"Okay, here's one that isn't too much of a spoiler, I'd hope. After I had a family and kids and shit, where did I live?" I'm trying to be careful about talking about the future, but I have to say, having access to that kind of information is like the ultimate temptation. I'm trying to temper it by asking about smaller stuff like this.

"You had a house built for your family northwest of Ylisstol. Not too far from the Anchorage estate in East Sedgar province. Sort of between the capital and Sumia's family's holdings." She puffs out her chest. "The illustrious Belmont family manor, you called it."

"The illustrious Belmont family manor?" Oh God. He didn't. He named himself Belmont, didn't he? Randall Belmont… damnit, that actually sounds pretty cool in my head.

"Perhaps calling it a manor would be a stretch. You did have a handsome sum saved up after years of working with the Shepherds, though. It was nice. My family would frequently visit when Father needed to get away from being in charge of everything for a little while. Just close enough to be available, but just far enough that seeing your family was a special treat. Especially for Brady."

Oh. Brady is her brother. I guess part of me always suspected that would be the case, but… I dunno. Something about hearing it confirmed like that just makes it feel… different. I'm not sure how I feel about that just yet.

"Wait. I know this hill."

"You do?"

"I've been here. I think… yeah." As we crest the hill and can see down the other side, I recognize the smattering of headstones dotting the shallow face of the hill. "This is where important members of the Osprey family staff are buried."

Lucina follows quietly while I walk down to the bottom row of graves and locate the ones I'm looking for. When I get to Mindy's grave, I sit down in front of it for a moment.

"Did you know her? Melinda?" Lucina asks.

"Yeah. She and her mom were killed when Maribelle and I got kidnapped by the Plegians," I reply.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Don't be." I almost add 'it was my fault anyway,' but that kind of shameful self-abasement in front of her grave seems too self-pitying even for me. I guess I don't have anything else to say.

I consider saying a prayer, at least to myself, but I don't really know how. I don't really want to pray to Naga, but praying to my own God when I'm in this world has always felt… alien. Maybe someday I'll work out a way to pray that doesn't feel so foreign. For now though, I decide to just think to Mindy a bit.

I hope wherever you are is nicer than here. I'm doing my best to be the kind of person you believed I could be. You told me I was bound to do important things because I'm a Shepherd. I hope you were right. I'll try to make you proud, wherever you are. And could you do me a favor and tell your mom I miss her breakfasts? I've never had mornings like I had when I was here. I won't ever forget them again.

I give myself just a little longer after I've finished my little silent one-sided conversation. I stand up. "Come on, Luci. We're nearly there."

We keep going, eventually cresting another hill and finally, mercifully, the villa peeks over the horizon. We book it down the hill, gravity speeding us along. It's finally time. I can see what look like Feroxi soldiers standing around the building. Now I'm not taking that for granted, since armies in this world don't seem opposed to the disguising-themselves game in the slightest. But it's at least nicer than seeing Plegian soldiers.

As we approach, one of the soldiers comes over to speak with us. "Hold on there! Who are you?" he asks, making sure we get a good look at the big-ass axe he's holding on his shoulder.

"We're Shepherds. We really need to speak with Robin the tactician," I say a little breathlessly. That hill is longer than I remember.

He raises a brow. "Didn't you hear? The rest of the Shepherds all headed out west with most of the khans' forces."

My stomach clenches. "Why? What happened with the negotiations?"

"They say one of Gangrel's allies sabotaged the negotiations or somethin'. Killed the commander of the royal guard before the khans could chase him off," he says with a shrug. "I don't know much of the details."

Phila… I don't know what to say. On one hand, she was one of my captors. But it always seemed like she didn't approve of what Vasto and Aventine did. She just didn't have the nerve to tell them no. A natural follower, I guess. But she was clearly devoted to Emmeryn. I can't hate the lady. After all, she at least said she'd give Robin my message. I guess I can't know that she actually did give it to her. Maybe that's why the others never came after me…

Whatever. I can't think about that now. "They went west, you said?"

"Gangrel fled after his man sabotaged the negotiations. They're chasin' him into Plegia. They'll be headed for the Border Pass."

The place where this war really started. I remember it well. I've even died there before. Which… is a weird thought.

"Come on, L–uh, Marth. Let's go," I say. I've gotten used to calling her by her actual name lately. Whoops. I'd better watch myself when I'm back with the Shepherds.

"Right," she says, hustling to follow me. I'm not going to be stopped anymore. If they're going after Gangrel, Robin and the others are going to need me. I won't be held back any longer.

"That gods-damned woman!" I shout in frustration. "How am I supposed to organize a battle plan if she's taking most of our troops so far ahead?"

"I know. We tried to slow her down, but that just made her mad," Chrom sighs. "On the plus side, if she's in this much of a hurry, hopefully Gangrel won't escape."

"Maybe. But what good does preventing his escape do us if the khan gets herself and half our military resources killed by being stupid? If Gangrel is going to make a stand, he'll be making it in the Border Pass. His forces will have the advantage of altitude. We'll be trudging uphill through a shower of arrows and lightning bolts. Having a plan to at least kind of mitigate that would be nice."

Chrom shrugs, then shifts his right arm uncomfortably. He's not used to having a sleeve on that arm. I have to admit, the Great Lord armor looks objectively very impressive. If only I didn't know that the man wearing it is such a goof. Kind of undercuts the imposing image.

I groan, pulling my hood up. Does it have to be so damn cold? "Well, I guess there's nothing we can do about it except roll with it. I'm still making Shepherd safety a top priority though. Even more important than getting Gangrel."

Chrom nods. "As you should. But we can't just leave Flavia to die without backup either."

"I know. Damnit."

Basilio is worried about his fellow khan. She's always been a confrontational woman, and it's never taken much to provoke a response from her. For years, that's how he'd been able to keep his place as khan regent: just prod her ego here and there, and it's easy to trick her into making a mistake.

But this is different. He's never seen bloodlust like this from her before. She marches with an almost frantic fervor. It's a wonder she's been able to keep this up for this many days in a row. All the while, she keeps her sword in hand despite the scouts' report that no enemies are anywhere close.

He's held his tongue so far. He understands. He's no fan of Gangrel either, and while he hasn't been as vocal about it, the attack on Southtown certainly inspired his ire toward the Patriots. To have the peace negotiations sabotaged by their leader was beyond the pale. But what Flavia's doing now isn't going to help her.

"Flavia, I–"

"Basilio. I can hear it in your tone. But no. I won't let this go. I recognize that if we didn't do something about this when we did, our southern neighbors might have turned on us someday. But the fact remains that this wasn't our fight until I agreed to make it our fight. Every soldier we've lost in this war has been on me, not you. Not Chrom. And that would be bad enough, but now we've got another enemy. Why does it feel like even though we've never lost a single battle to these people, we are constantly facing a larger adversary than ever?" Flavia's eyes turn to the frosty ground in front of her feet. "We've done nothing but win in this war, and yet it never feels like we're… winning."

"And you're hoping that going to lop off Gangrel's head will fix that," Basilio says, nodding with understanding. "But this recklessness, not even taking the time to let Robin form a plan. Don't you think that's counterproductive?"

"If we pause now, even for a moment, we'll lose him for months again. When we faced him in Golgotha, we blinked, he turned the tide, and we had to run. When we faced him in Themis, we blinked, his ally turned the tide, and we had to run. I'm tired of it, Basilio. I won't blink this time."

"I understand, Flavia. I'm tired of this war too. But… just be careful, alright?" Basilio asks.

"Being careful didn't do us any favors in Ylisstol. We spent months on that siege, only to end up losing massive numbers of soldiers when we finally broke into the city anyway. Robin might be a skilled tactician, but that's largely because she counts on being able to use Feroxi bodies as a shield," Flavia says.

"That may be partially true, but you know she always tries to mitigate our losses too," Basilio replies.

"Anyway, the time for careful planning has passed. Now is the time for action." Flavia returns her gaze straight in front of her.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Basilio. The khan regent has given her order."

The one-eyed warrior sighs. "Well, you're certainly not going into battle alone. You'll have me there every step of the way, no matter how foolhardy."

The corners of Flavia's mouth creep slightly upward. "I expect nothing less of my junior khan."

Basilio guffaws. "Junior? I haven't been called anyone's 'junior' in I don't know how long!"

Flavia glances at him. "Well, get used to it, oaf."

"Now that I'm a little more used to by now."

"Sire! The Ylisse-Ferox alliance is coming from the east!" one of Gangrel's soldiers reports urgently.

"They decided to show up after all, then. Good. Let's put an end to this," Gangrel says, not looking up from examining the blade of his Levin sword. "My blade has been itching to put a hole in that irritating princeling for some time now."

"So far, it seems the Ylisseans haven't arrived. The khans are leading their forces alone," the soldier says.

Gangrel cocks an eyebrow. "I do hope they haven't decided to pass on our little get-together. What could that immigrant upstart be planning?"

"What should we do, Your Majesty?" the soldier asks.

Gangrel stands from the stump he's been using as a chair and glares at the soldier, who instantly shrinks back. "Think before you speak, soldier. An enemy force wants to invade your home country. What do you do?"

"S-stop them, Your Majesty," the soldier stutters.

"There you go. Now get out of my sight." The terrified soldier scurries off.

Gangrel rolls his shoulders out, electricity idly crackling down the blade of his sword. "I'd better go and greet our guests."

By the time we reach the battlefield, Flavia's forces have long since made contact with the Plegians. The battlefield is chaos. The sound steel on steel shrieks through the air endlessly. I can't make hide or tail of this mess.

I look to Robin beside me. "What do we do about this?"

She stares out over the battlefield. Our visibility of the scene is limited because the pass goes uphill as it proceeds west, plateauing off at several points. Beyond the first plateau, we don't see much.

"I can't even tell who's winning," she says quietly. "Both sides just look… exhausted." I look out again, trying to see the battlefield the way she does. I notice things I didn't before. Despite the cacophony of battle, I see few bodies on the ground. Those that are on the ground move faintly, still alive even if beaten. This isn't the genocidal clash of two hot-blooded armies looking to pile up bodies. This is two tired groups that just want this to be over.

"But what do we do about this?" I ask. "How can we ever hope to get this organized?"

"We probably can't. All we can do is help." She turns to the Shepherds gathered behind us. "I want fliers in the air. That means you too, Nowi. And with every rider I want a passenger that can sling spells. We can't exactly run crowd control in this setting, but you can at least provide some support to the folks on the ground. Riders, as stupid as this will sound, I need you dismounted today. If we go charging through that, we'll be trampling as many Feroxi as we do Plegians, and we can't have that. We're not really given much choice here. We're gonna be slogging it up the pass. I need everyone to be watching each other's backs today. Everyone comes home. Got that?"

"Right!" the Shepherds shout collectively back at us.

And so the battle begins for us. It's a mess right from the start. We haven't had a battle this poorly organized since Robin first joined the Shepherds. The plan is simple and all-encompassing: see a Plegian on his feet, put him on the ground. I'd forgotten what it's like not to have the security of a plan behind me as I fight. I might be too thick to come up with the strategies myself, but I can follow them just fine. When I'm following Robin's instructions, I can do so with confidence. She's very rarely wrong about anything in a fight.

But this battle is where plans go to die. Just a seemingly endless stream of bodies to cut through. The only orders Robin gives are small and singular—"go back up Stahl," "Gaius needs a healer, go now," "archer on the ridge, shoot him down Virion," that kind of thing. Like the difference between writing a book and writing a bunch of singular words in a row.

As we push on into the thick of the battle, up the pass and onto the first plateau, where the battlefield should open up, instead it only gets more claustrophobic. The Border Pass is narrow at the best of times, but it feels narrower than ever, choked with the dying and the dead and the desperate.

Everything feels both much too fast and yet eternities long. As the plateau widens out from the pass, I feel the others slowly getting dragged farther apart. With no specific finish line, no goal, everyone starts spreading in different directions, helping the Feroxi fight off the Plegians every which way. It's hard to tell how much of it is real separation and how much of it is just the paranoia of feeling like my back is exposed, but with every passing second, I find myself waiting for the feeling of a blade between my shoulders. Even with this armor and the Emblem as a shield, I find myself frantically turning around whenever I'm not actively fighting someone.

I wonder if this is how battle felt near the end of the last war. My father's armor feels just a little heavier when I think that.

I narrowly bat aside a jab from a lance wielded by a terrified-looking soldier. His eyes are locked on the Emblem strapped to my left arm. He mouths something to himself that I don't make out. With a panicked yell, he jabs again, then again. As rudimentary as his technique is, he's quick enough to make up for it. He always pulls his lance back away from me before I can snatch the shaft and tear it from his grip. At the same time, he presses forward relentlessly, forcing me to back up. I just need to find my gap. I can't be too hasty and open myself up to someone off to the side.

I feel myself getting pushed up an incline. He's trying to back me into the narrow path up to the second plateau. He probably hopes that in such an enclosed space, he'll have the advantage because I can't go around him. In an otherwise open field, he might be right. But he's just made this fight much easier for me.

I let him back me up just a little farther so we're both on the incline. He jabs up at me, hoping to trip me up. Unfortunately for him, that's just what I was waiting for. He gets just a hair too ambitious with one of his stabs, and I lift my leg just enough to stomp down on the lance, driving the blade into the clay. After trying to pull it out of the ground and finding that he won't be able to do that with my weight on top of it, he lets go and takes a step back. I consider taking a swing at him and ending his fighting days for good, but then I reconsider. He's disarmed, exhausted, terrified, and trying to get away from the fight. There's nothing to be gained by killing him.

He doesn't say anything as he turns to run, but the relief in his eyes as he takes one more look at me confirms for me that I've made the right choice.

That thought is interrupted by a sudden, seizing pain striking me squarely in the back and rocketing down my body. It feels as though the air is sucked right out of my lungs as my arms and legs tighten unnaturally for a few agonizing seconds. I almost fall down the hill, but manage to brace myself on my downhill leg and keep on my feet.

I turn to see what just shot me in the back. It's Gangrel, his Levin sword still pointed at me. He smiles joylessly at me. He looks me up and down.

"You decided to bring that murderer's armor out of retirement, I see," he says. "How fitting. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Gan… Gangrel," I stammer, still struggling to catch my breath. Gods, there isn't a magically resistant bone in my body. "Just like you to attack a man from behind."

He cackles. "Whatever crumbs of honor were left in this war were swept off the plate by your pal, that Patriot fellow."

"I suppose it's too late… to renegotiate for peace now, isn't it?" I ask, readying Falchion and the Emblem for his attack.

"I'm ashamed to admit it, but you lot were close to fooling me. That peace could exist in this world. In this life. But I'm more convinced than ever, princeling: peace will only come to this world when mankind leaves it. And I'm giving the world a hand in making that happen." He takes a couple steps forward, raising his blade.

"Then you're really beyond hope," I reply, staggering up the hill to fight him.

I'm at a disadvantage here. I know this. He's got a better position on the path, and that blast from his sword really stiffened my muscles all throughout my body. Still, I know I can take him. Gangrel has hardly seen a real battlefield in ages, I bet, while I've been in battle on a regular basis for years. I can do this.

He swings his blade, shooting out a bolt of lightning at me. Unable to dodge in time with this little space to work with, I raise the Emblem and hope for the best. It doesn't help much. A blow to the arm doesn't hurt as much as a blow to the center of the back, but it's only a small mercy. I have to find a way to close this gap and do some damage, quick.

Ignoring the roaring ache in my legs, I charge up the hill, swinging for his ankles. He's agile, though, and leaps easily out of the blade's path. He fires another bolt at my head, but I narrowly duck under it.

We reach a more level part of the path. I take another swing at him, but he blocks it with his sword, sending a bolt down my blade as he does so. I grit my teeth in pain is my right arm seizes up. I can't make a move against him! If he's too far, he can take shots with impunity, but if I'm up close, he can hurt me just by clashing blades. If I could just get that sword away from him…

He follows up after our clash with a swing of his own. I manage to step back enough to miss the blade itself. I smell the lightning in the air as it passes my face. I try stepping forward again with the Emblem raised, hoping to close the gap. Before I can bash him with the Emblem, though, Gangrel uses his free hand and pushes off the Emblem, leveraging it to leap back out of its reach. As he does so, he slings another bolt out, which singes a few of my hairs off as it just barely misses my head.

I've underestimated Gangrel.

I back up as well. I remember something that might be of use to me: the fallen lance, still lodged in the earth behind me. I dodge another bolt as I rush back to get it. I stake Falchion in the ground as I grasp the lance and wrench it out of the earth. Gangrel takes a couple steps forward, growing more confident.

As he winds up to let loose another bolt, I throw the lance, hoping he can't dodge or block in a corridor this tight. However, he shoots his lightning directly at the lance itself mid-flight, shattering the wooden shaft and sending the lance head careening uselessly off course. I rip Falchion back out of the ground, unsure whether to fight or run. He's been mopping the floor with me so far. But if I turn to run now, not only am I admitting defeat, but I would be opening my back to another direct hit. I really don't have a choice. I have to stand him down.

He grins down at me. "You look like you're starting to get it. Now, you little eyesore: die." He leaps forward suddenly, taking a flying slash at me. I only barely raise the Emblem in time to stop him, but with his momentum combined with the savage shock that comes afterward, my legs buckle, and I fall backwards. The back of my head hits the slope hard, and my sight blurs a little. I see him raise his sword again, and I hear the screech of electricity as he summons a massive dose of lightning to finish me off. I raise the Emblem again, expecting my heart to explode out of my chest when this shock hits.

Instead, I hear a CLANG and a scuffle of boots on the dirt. Gangrel yells in anger and alarm. The next time I hear his voice, it's several yards away.

"You!" he growls.

I look out over the Emblem, expecting to see Robin or one of the khans. Instead, I see the back of a long, dark blue coat. Emblazoned across the back is the spread-winged white eagle of House Osprey. Is that..?

He looks back at me, a wide grin on his face.

"Didja miss me?" Randall asks as I gape up at him.

I made it.

I made it in time. Thank Christ. I thought Chrom was a goner for sure. I shake off the stiffness in my limbs from taking that electric attack. Blocking the sword with Longinus was easy enough, but I'd forgotten that the lightning has no problem traveling up the shaft and into my body anyway.

I hold the staff up behind me and try to give Chrom a quick healing without taking my eyes off Gangrel. I'd hate to have to come back after all this time just to respawn right away.

Gangrel looks pissed. "So it was you! I shouldn't be surprised you were working with them!" he snarls at me. He fires another bolt of lightning at me. I move my head out of the way.

"No idea what you're talking about, sorry," I reply. "Now where did we leave off? I think you were just telling me that I needed to learn some manners. Sound about right?"

"I should have put you in the ground when I had the chance," he spits.

"You're telling me. That would've made this whooole thing a hell of a lot easier, believe me," I reply.

I hear Chrom stagger to his feet behind me. "You good, Chrom?" I ask.

"I've been better. But I'll be fine. Let's finish this."

"Yes," Gangrel replies, "let's." He fires off another bolt. If I dodge now, it'll hit Chrom, and I can tell his resistance is dogshit compared to mine. I turn my shoulder, hoping the coat can absorb the blow better than the staff can. I'm technically right, though it still hurts like a bitch. We trudge up the path, steadily closing the gap between us and Gangrel. I flick Longinus's blade out of the staff and hold it like a lance at the ready.

"That's new," Chrom says.

"Do you like it? I'll show you later," I reply. "Loving the new 'fit, by the way."

"It belonged to my father," Chrom says.

This exchange aggravates Gangrel just enough that he snaps, jumping forward with a roar and taking a swing at me. Remember what Vasto taught you: stopping the attack is good, but redirecting to a place he doesn't want to go is better. Thankfully, the zigzagging blade of a Levin sword is nice and wide, making it easier to bat out of the way as it slides down the metal shaft. I still feel my arms tighten painfully, but the tradeoff is that Gangrel goes stumbling off to my right, hitting his head on the cliff face. I can't quite stab him at this angle, but I still manage to whip the bottom end of the staff up and clock him in the chin.

He staggers back, waving his sword haphazardly in front of him. "You damned priest!" he shouts.

"Still not a priest, jackass," I reply. I try taking a stab at him as he backs away, but he bats it aside with his sword, giving me an unpleasant shock for my trouble. It's weaker than before, though. We're rattling him.

"Die!" he shrieks, pouncing again. He's prepared for me redirecting his attack this time, though, turning with agile precision and elbowing me in the side. Though the coat saves me from actually being injured by the blow, his surprising strength still knocks me aside and I lose my balance. It's only the strength of the lacquer in the coat that saves my arm when I raise it to deflect his follow-up swing with his sword. I take another nasty shock. The man might be backed into a corner, but he's no less dangerous.

Thankfully, Chrom is here to pick up my slack. He lunges in and forces Gangrel to retreat or risk getting stabbed. The battle pauses for the briefest of moments while all three of us heave for breath. My everything hurts.

"I can see… why Vasto was… scared to fight you… head on," I pant.

"That traitor… will get his in the end," Gangrel replies.

"Who's Vasto?" Chrom asks.

"That guy I threw off a cliff last year," I say, my breath returning.

"He lived?" Chrom asks incredulously.

"He also kidnapped me. I'll explain that when we're done with this fuck," I reply.

Gangrel chuckles. "When we're done here, neither of you will be saying anything." He raises his sword and prepares to resume his electric onslaught.

Chrom and I have the same thought: close the gap now. We rush in together, weapons raised. Gangrel fires a shot at Chrom, but he raises the Fire Emblem to block the bolt. It still hits him hard enough that he slows down, though, leaving me alone up in front.

Gangrel fires off another couple bolts at me, but I manage to dodge one, and the other only grazes my side. I get close enough to take a stab with Longinus, but the wily bastard sidesteps the attack and hits the shaft with his blade to give me another shock. I'm holding the staff at a precarious enough angle that the shock makes me lose my grip, and the staff falls to the ground.

Seeing an opportunity, Gangrel reels back to take a swing at my head, but before he can bring his blade down, a flash of light momentarily blinds me from my right as Chrom cuts back in. He scores a major blow across Gangrel's chest, Falchion glowing with yellow light. As the bloody scrapes on Chrom's face heal before my eyes, I realize he must have perfected the Sol skill. As Gangrel backs away in panic, Falchion shifts colors and takes on a bright blue light instead.

He's learned Aether at last.

Chrom charges in. Gangrel raises his Levin sword to defend himself, but Chrom's penetrating Luna strike shatters the blade like it's made of glass. The sword breaks with an incredibly loud CRACK of thunder as all its magic is released into the sky, blinding me again as a veritable lightning bolt explodes in front of my face.

It takes a few long moments for my eyes to readjust and for my ears to stop ringing. As the world slowly comes back into view, I see the result of Chrom's attack. Gangrel sits on the ground, the blade of Falchion protruding from just below his solar plexus. I guess Chrom's aim must've been thrown off when the sword exploded.

Even as my sound comes back, I find that I can't hear the same clamor of battle around the pass. It's like the whole world has paused to see what just happened.

Gangrel sputters for breath on the ground. He's still alive. I look at Chrom next to me. He stares down at the fallen king, his eyes wide. I can't tell what he's thinking.

For my part, I reach down next to Gangrel and pick Longinus up off the ground. I point the blade at Gangrel's throat. The Mad King is finally beaten.

Gangrel looks up at me, then at Chrom. He laughs weakly, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth. "You damned simpletons. Celebrate today if you like. One day it'll be you."

"I don't think so. When you're gone, peace will return to the continent," Chrom says venomously.

"Is that right? I don't know if you've seen the khans lately, but they hardly seem like they're in a peaceful mood," Gangrel retorts. "But go on. Get it over with." He leans back, looking up at the narrow strip of sky above us.

Chrom reaches out, grabs Falchion's handle, and rips it roughly out of Gangrel's stomach. The king gasps in pain as the sword comes loose. I wait for Chrom's order to finish him off.

I wait a little longer.

…

I glance over at Chrom. He's gripping Falchion so hard that his hand is shaking. His face is twisted with fury. He stares at Gangrel, his teeth gritted so tight I could swear I hear them creaking.

Finally, with a roar of rage, Chrom stabs Falchion downward. Right next to Gangrel's head, harmlessly embedded in the ground. "Randall!" he shouts, not taking his eyes off the king as he speaks. "Close up his wounds."

"Whoa, hold on. Are you serious?" I ask.

"He's already lost. Now he will stand trial. The public of both countries will see him held up as an example. We lose the chance to have him confess his crimes if we kill him now. And I will not lower myself to his level, or Gideon's."

"Chrom, I'm super jazzed that you've made progress with keeping your anger in check, but this is King Fucking Gangrel here. Normally a cold-blooded execution isn't really my thing, but in this case, I really think we need to make an exception," I say urgently.

"Randall. The decision is made. You're a Shepherd, right?" He finally looks at me.

I hesitate. This seems like such a stupid call. What's there to be gained from having a trial? Won't we have to worry about someone breaking him out before we can even carry the thing out? Even if he's taken out of power, we've just seen firsthand what a crazy-proficient fighter he is. Not to mention, after what he did to Maribelle, doesn't he deserve to die in the dirt like this?

But in the end, I am a Shepherd. That was the call I made when I tried to leave Southtown. I've been given an order. And I made light of it before, but maybe this really is the right choice for Chrom. After giving in to his anger so many times, to have him relent in the face of the man he hates most is nothing short of a miraculous turnaround. And when he does have a trial, there's no way he won't be sentenced to execution anyway. Maybe there's value in going through the official channel to put someone to death. Restore faith in law and order instead of letting things fall into chaos.

I can hardly believe I'm doing this. I nod silently, flipping Longinus around and pointing the orb at Gangrel. It's not any kind of fondness for him, but rather respect for Chrom and his choice, that motivates my Mend magic now. The slash across Gangrel's chest and the hole in his stomach close up, and Gangrel clenches his fists and writhes his legs in pain as the healing magic does its work. In the end, his exhaustion combined with the trauma of undoing that damage proves too much for the king, and he slumps back, breathing but unconscious.

I snap the blade back into the staff. "Well, this was your idea," I say, giving Chrom a smirk. "You carry him."

It's only now that I turn around and see what's happening at the end of the path. Dozens of people, Feroxi and Plegian alike, crowd around the opening of the path, trying to get a look at what's happening. I guess everyone must've heard Gangrel's sword explode.

Chrom slings Gangrel's limp body over one shoulder, and we both start heading for the lower entrance to the path. With a shooing gesture, I signal to everyone to back off and give us room to get through. Amazingly, even the Plegians make way for us.

As we emerge from the path opening onto the wider plateau, I get a better look at the size of the crowd. Hundreds of soldiers are packed into this pass. I scan the crowd, looking for Shepherds. The first one I see is Gaius. His orange hair is hard to miss. We make eye contact. He gives me a wry grin.

Chrom gestures to the unconscious king on his shoulder. "Soldiers of Plegia! Your king is defeated! There is no longer any reason to keep up this fighting! We have no quarrel with you; only your deranged king who cared nothing for your safety. He told me firsthand that his goal was only to see all of mankind wiped from the face of the earth, and he was using you to do this. Don't be a victim to his barbarism any longer!"

A long, tense moment passes. "Can we… go home?" someone in the crowd asks.

"Yes. I think it will be better for everyone involved if you do just that," Chrom replies.

The sound of a sword dropping to the ground. Then another. Then a wave of the sound of metal hitting ground sweeps across the pass as the soldiers of Plegia give up the battle and start shuffling off, leaving their now-former king to his fate. The Feroxi have the decency not to make a move against the Plegians as they go about this unusual form of surrender. Chrom and I watch, almost disbelievingly, as the battlefield starts clearing itself out.

The first Shepherd to get to me catches me by surprise. By which I mean she snatches me suddenly off the ground and pulls me up into the sky in her dragon claws.

"RANDY!" Nowi shouts in her echoing, terrifying dragon voice, "YOU'RE BACK!" I hear Donny whooping and Ricken cheering on top of her back. I see Robin brought the trio of death method we used at Golgotha out of retirement.

"Yeah, I'm back!" I shout up at her. "Can you maybe put me down?"

"AWW, OKAY," Nowi replies, circling around and eventually touching down at the bottom of the pass. As we land, she lets the lads off her back before transforming back into loli-form. She wastes no time hopping onto my shoulders, trusting me to hold her up. Normally that wouldn't be hard at all, but it's only now that I realize just how much all that lightning has damaged my muscles.

"Okay, okay, going down," I sputter as I drop to my knees.

"Oh, sorry," Nowi says as I inadvertently drop her on her butt. "You must've had a hard fight."

"In need of some healing?" a familiarly smug voice asks.

I look over at the source. "Yes, but not from you. I don't have enough cash on hand to cover the cost," I tell Anna.

She rolls her eyes. Gregor next to her throws an arm around her shoulder. "Not to worry, Randall. Gregor cover cost of healing and buy you first drink when we get back to capital!"

Anna glances off to the side. "Well, maybe I should leave it to the professional anyway," she says. I turn to see who she's talking about. I see a bouncing yellow shape running full-speed at me. By the time I realize it's Lissa, she's already bowled me over and is crying shamelessly into my shoulder on the ground.

"Raaaaandy!" she bawls. "I'm so glad you're safe!"

"I am too, but you're kind of… crushing me…" I sputter.

She scrambles off of me. "I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

"I took a lot of hits from that Levin sword's lightning," I reply. "I wouldn't mind an all-around tune-up."

"Of course!" Lissa points her staff at me. Warm, radiant magic envelops my entire body, and while uncomfortable at first, in almost no time my muscles start to feel more relaxed than I can remember them feeling in ages. While she does her work, I glance up and happen to see Lucina, watching from the plateau above. She gives me a nod, which I return silently. I understand. Despite everything, she still wants to keep away for now, I guess.

"Goddamn Lissa, you've gotten good while I've been away," I say as I get to my feet. "Oh, speaking of healing! Remember that conversation we had like a million years ago about my first staff? How you thought it was important that I should find it?"

She nods. I pick up Longinus from the ground beside me. "Well guess what." I hold it out to her.

She takes the staff and immediately almost drops it. "This is your first staff? Is it, like, made of solid steel, or what?"

I laugh. "Mostly." I look behind Lissa and see that Lon'qu is standing off to the side. "I see you haven't been released from Lissa duty."

Lon'qu gives the smallest of smirks. "Not yet. But I've gotten used to it."

"Well well, even you weren't immune to her girlish charms?" I reply. "She's got you all wrapped up, huh?"

His usual scowl returns. "Hardly."

"Randall! You're back!" The next Shepherds to arrive are Stahl and Panne. Stahl doesn't hesitate to wrap me in a tight hug. "We really missed you," he says before letting me go.

"The feeling is definitely mutual," I reply.

Panne gives me a rare smile. "Glad to have you back, Randall," she says.

"Glad to be back," I reply with a smile of my own.

Stahl leans in and says, "I've got some really good news to share with you, but it can wait until everything's calmed down." One look at Panne's reddening face as he says that confirms my suspicions. My heart is swelling in my chest to see all my friends again and in better shape than ever.

But the party's only just getting started. I learn this the rough way when someone scoops me up from behind and slings me onto his shoulder. "Randaaaaay!" the Vaike shouts as he spins me around.

"Put him down, blockhead," I hear Sully say from some direction, I can't tell. After a couple more seconds, Vaike obeys, setting me down.

As I recover from my newfound dizziness, Sully steps in front of me. "I'm not normally a hugger, but damn you, you had me worried," she says, and I find myself in yet another incredibly tight embrace. As Sully attempts to break my ribs, Vaike gives my hair a rough rub with his hand.

"You give us another scare like that and I'll pound ya, got it?" he says with a good-natured smile.

"G-got it," I reply, gasping for breath as Sully releases me.

Donny and Ricken seize this chance to step in. "We were real worried aboutcha, Randall," Donny says. Jesus Christ look at the size of his arms. I haven't been gone that long, have I? And even Ricken looks taller than when I was taken.

"You guys look like you've managed pretty well without me though," I say. "You guys are looking stronger than ever."

"We had to get stronger!" Ricken says, his voice cracking just a bit. "Without you around, everyone was counting on us!"

"I don't doubt it. Looks like you guys held down the fort pretty well, too. Good work," I say. Both of them beam.

The next folks to make their way over are Olivia, Miriel, and Kellam. Miriel is the first to speak.

"Randall. It's wonderful to see you alive and seemingly unharmed," Miriel says in a matter-of-fact tone, but she still has a smile on her face. About as warm a welcome as would be fair to expect from her, I suppose.

Kellam claps a hand on my shoulder, probably harder than he meant to, making the lacquer give its characteristic whap sound. "It's good to have you back, Randall," he says. I've never heard him more clearly than I do now.

"Um, Randall," Olivia says, unintentionally interrupting Kellam (I assume she just hasn't noticed him). "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks everyone," I say. I feel myself getting a little verklempt at all my friends coming together to welcome me back.

"Randy, you absolute scoundrel, where are you?" I hear an unmistakable voice call from behind me. I turn around and see Maribelle, who for some reason appears to have a grip on the scruff of Virion's neck and is forcing him to come along. Is he that reluctant to see me? I thought we had a pretty good rapport going.

When she gets close enough, she releases Virion, who doesn't dare move a step from where she's placed him. Leaving him for the moment, she approaches. By the time she gets to me, my arms are already open, awaiting a hug.

Instead of stepping into my hug, though, she reels back, apparently preparing to slap me to kingdom come. I admit, I wince a bit. After a moment, she relents and steps into my hug after all.

"Do you have any idea what it was like for us? I used to think no one could make me worry more than Lissa does, but ever since I met you, you've proven me more and more wrong with every turn," she says as she leans into the crook of my shoulder, her arms around the center of my back.

I give her shoulders a squeeze. "I'm sorry, Maribelle. I'm sure I had you all worried."

She turns her head a bit so her chin rests on my shoulder. "Hold on… What is this?" I think she's seen the Osprey crest. She lets go of the hug, grabs my shoulders, and turns me on the spot to get a better look. "Randy, why is my family's crest on your back?"

I look over my shoulder at her. "That's a bit of a long story. I've got a lot of catching up to do with everyone. I'll explain later on."

She sniffles. "Very well. In the meantime, a certain someone has something he would like to say to you." She turns and shoots Virion a glare. The man yelps and steps timidly forward.

"Randall, I'm just elated to see you returned to us safely. But…" Maribelle clears her throat very loudly. He goes on, "I must also apologize to you. You see, the reason we were intercepted at the Anchorage estate all those months ago was most likely because a communication of mine was intercepted by the enemy. I may have been a bit… liberal with how much detail I was including in our plans for our campaign in Ylisse. If the enemy got ahold of it, that is likely how they ascertained our location with such accuracy."

"Is that right?" I ask.

He nods shamefully. "I've been paying dearly for it every day since Lady Maribelle found out."

"Oh, I bet," I reply, then I deliver a sharp blow straight into his solar plexus. "There. Got that out of my system," I say as he falls to his knees, wheezing for breath. I hear a few of the others laugh behind me. His idiocy does piss me off more than a bit, but at this point, I have to let it go. Holding onto a grudge won't help anyone. Better to just have my moment of petty vengeance and release him from guilt from this point on.

I reach down and grab his hand, helping him back to his feet. I steady him with a hand on each shoulder. "I know you have duties to your people back home," I say quietly. "I don't begrudge you keeping in touch with them. Just be smarter."

He nods. "Right. Thank you," he says, his voice strained.

A large black shape touches down some thirty feet away. I realize it's a black pegasus. I don't think I've seen one of those before. It looks pretty damn cool. Its rider dismounts, and I realize it's Cordelia. Since when does she— oh. I remember now. Hyperion went down in Anchorage. This must be her new partner. A wave of guilt washes over me as Cordelia rushes over to us.

"Randall, I would have come sooner, but I had to make sure the Plegians were really heading back west," she says breathlessly. She pauses in front of me, fidgeting with her hands.

I smile and open my arms. "C'mon, bring it in," I say.

"Oh, Randall, I'm so sorry!" she cries as she rushes in and wraps her arms around my chest. I often forget she's not actually that tall; she just seems tall because of how confidently she presents herself most of the time. "If you hadn't needed to come save me back at the Anchorage estate, none of this would have ever happened to you! It's all my fault!"

"I'm sure that's not the last time I'm gonna hear that," I mutter. "Cordelia, please. We were taken by surprise. You did everything you could for me. I don't want you blaming yourself for anything that's happened. And… I'm sorry for what happened to Hyperion. I know fliers have really special bonds with their mounts." I can't help remembering Vasto and Kinba, a pair so in sync I could swear she's just an extension of his body when they're in the sky. "And I heard what happened to Phila. I'm sorry this war has taken so much from you."

She starts crying openly. "I should be happy," she wails. "You're back, and the war will end now. But I just…" She sobs into my shoulder.

"There will be plenty of time to work through all the craziness that's happened, Cordelia. The good and the bad. You don't have to be okay all at once," I reply, holding her tight. I won't lie; even when she's in a distraught state like this, there's a part of me that's very much enjoying this. Enjoying being needed by her in this moment.

"I… I understand. I'm just glad you're safe," she says, snorting back a headful of teary snot as she pulls away gently. "I, um… I kept your jacket safe. The one I bought for you back before we came back to Ylisse."

I smile. "Thanks for that, Cordelia. I definitely missed that jacket on some of my colder nights in captivity."

She glances down at my jacket. "But… where did you get a jacket like that?" she asks. "It looks a lot like…"

"Beaaaar!" I hear from above me. I look up and see Kestrel circling overhead, descending closer and closer to the ground.

"Gaaaius!" I shout back. We both laugh as Sumia guides her pegasus down to the ground beside Cordelia's new companion.

As soon as Kestrel touches the ground, Gaius leaps off the saddle and comes rushing over to me. "You old son of a bitch!" he shouts as he throws his arms around me and I around him. "I just knew you'd be back!"

"Glad to see at least one person kept up the faith," I say with a chuckle. We release each other.

"I about had a heart attack when we got that message from you, all those weeks ago. It was just Sumia, Bubbles, and me around the fire by then, when all of a sudden, wham! A rock nearly nails one of us in the head! But even then, that was nothing compared to the impact of the message attached to it. How did you get that message out to us?" he asks.

I glance at Cordelia, unsure if I should reveal Phila's secret just yet. "I, uh, managed to make a few friends among my captives. You know me. The ladies just couldn't help but treat me like royalty once I had em going."

"Aaah, you old bastard, you!" he says with a laugh, giving me a playful punch to the shoulder. He recoils after he hits lacquer. "Gods alive, what's in that coat?"

"I could tell ya, but I'd have to kill ya," I say with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah." He turns to Sumia, who's been lingering behind, staring at her feet. "Sumia, come on, don't you at least want to say hi?" he says.

She takes a deep breath, then takes a step forward—and immediately falls on her face. I can't help but chuckle a little as Gaius and I rush over and help her to her feet. "You okay, Sumia?" I ask.

"Randall, I…" She hesitates. I'm sure she's been carrying around a lot of guilt for what happened too. She chose to get Cordelia to safety over me. I don't doubt that's been eating at her all this time. "Welcome back," she says at last, smiling even as tears stream down her face.

I return her smile. "Thank you, Sumia. Thank you for protecting Cordelia."

She gives me a hug as well. "I know you'll say not to be sorry, but I am sorry that I didn't get you out of there too. I didn't have enough faith in Kestrel, and the one who suffered for that was you," she says.

"You don't have to worry about that anymore," I reply. "I made it back, and everything's going to be alright now."

"Okay," she says eventually.

I let go of her and turn to see everyone standing around. Some are still watching my reunions with the others, while others are talking to each other or getting wounds checked out. The air of positivity around me has me just about giddy.

I really am back.

"Robin, you can do this," I reassure her. I've been trying to calm her down for the past few minutes, standing just around the corner of the cliff face rounding the corner onto the lowest portion of the pass. I've been able to hear the rest of the Shepherds gathering there.

"I know, I can, I just… need a minute," she says breathlessly. "There's… gods, there's a million things I want to say. I won't know which one to say first."

"Well, maybe you don't need to pick the right one. He's back now, Robin. He's really back. You'll have all the time you need."

"Do you think anyone's told him about… Libra?" she asks.

"I don't know. I bet not. I don't know if he needs to hear that right after he's finally gotten back," I reply.

She nods. "I understand. I guess I'll just… try."

I brush a few untidy strands of hair out of her face. "Go get him, Robin. After all the work you did to try and get him back, after all the time you spent worrying instead of sleeping… you've more than earned your moment with him."

She smiles. "Okay."

A familiar dark coat comes into view, a hundred yards or so away. And I'd recognize those white twintails anywhere. I try to contain myself, but end up giving up on that; I all but sprint in Robin's direction, and I can see her running to meet me as well.

We meet closer to her end than mine. Once again, my joy overflows, and I can't help but pick her clean up off the ground and hold her up as I wrap my arms around her, one at her back and one around her waist. She automatically wraps her arms and legs around me, clinging onto me not unlike Eileen likes to do. I can't stop laughing with relief. Meanwhile, I can hear her crying loudly. Ugly, undignified sobbing, like she's finally letting go of something she's been carrying for much too long. Of all the people that I'm sorry for making worry, she far and away tops the list.

"Randy," she wails into the crook of my neck. "It's really you, isn't it?"

'Yeah. Yeah, it's really me," I reply, riding the line between laughing and crying dangerously closely. "I'm sorry for everything."

"No, no, no," she says. "You don't have to be. I should be. I got your message. I got it ages ago and I didn't… I didn't come get you. I should have. I should've come right away. I should've chased after you the moment Marth told me you were taken." Huh. Lucina saw that, did she? "We could've had Sumia tracking you. We could've—"

"Robin, please. We both have a hundred things we wish we'd have done differently. For now, let's just… have this," I say.

She hesitates a moment, but then her arms coil tighter around my shoulders. "Okay," she whispers.

I don't know how long we stay like that. A few seconds, maybe. A few minutes. Just listening to the sound of her shaky breath and feeling her surprisingly cool body against mine.

"I was so scared without you," she says at last.

"I was too. I've never been more scared for my life."

We give ourselves a few more moments, then I slowly put her down. She snorts gruffly, wiping her face aggressively with her sleeve. "Sorry. I got, uh, grossness on your coat."

I laugh, noticing how shaky my own voice is. "No worries. You weren't the only one."

It's only now that I notice a few more familiar faces approaching from behind Robin. The khans have come to greet me as well, it seems.

"Randall!" Flavia barks, sounding surprisingly… pissed? "Don't move!"

Robin whirls around. "Khan Flavia?" she asks.

Flavia stalks around me, taking a look at the back of my coat. "I thought that's what I saw. On your knees, Randall. Now!" She kicks the back of one of my knees, and I fall down onto that knee.

"What is the meaning of this?" Robin demands, pulling an Elthunder tome as if from nowhere and holding it ready.

Flavia walks back around to look me in the face. I've never seen her even close to this angry before. "Randall, answer me honestly. Are you Thomas Paine?"

What the fuck is happening here?

"Khan, let me warn you," Robin says, an incredibly vicious edge to her voice. "If you so much as pluck a hair from this man's head, your soldiers will be scraping staticky chunks of you off the pass for weeks to come." The smell of ozone fills the air.

"Answer the question, Randall," Flavia says as Basilio joins her at her side, silver axe resting on his shoulder. A few other Feroxi soldiers show up as well.

"I mean, kind of? It's a complicated story, but I can—"

"That's enough. Place him under arrest," Flavia commands some of the soldiers. They get to work manacling my wrists together.

"Khan Flavia!" Maribelle shouts as she and the other Shepherds rush over to see what the commotion is about. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Randall has just admitted to me that he is Thomas Paine. I'm placing him under arrest for the slaughter of the Feroxi soldiers in Southtown, as well as the sabotage of the peace negotiations just a few days ago," Flavia replies.

"Preposterous! What would Randall have to gain by killing Feroxi soldiers or sabotaging the negotiations?" Maribelle demands. "He's been in captivity until now."

"He certainly didn't look like a captive to me until just now," Flavia retorts.

"Now that I can explain—" I begin, but Flavia interrupts me.

"Shut your mouth. Prisoners of Regna Ferox speak when spoken to and at no other time," she says.

"Randall is no prisoner of Regna Ferox," Maribelle says. "He is a citizen of Ylisse," (I am?) "and the crimes of which you accuse him all happened on Ylissean soil. The halidom has jurisdiction here. Unless you want an international incident on your hands, I suggest you remand him to the custody of the Shepherds right this second."

"Remand him to you? Ridiculous," Flavia fires back. "You'd turn him loose the moment we hand him over."

Maribelle looks at Robin. "Robin. Did Randall indeed just admit that he is Thomas Paine?" she asks.

Robin is still shaking with barely contained rage, the Elthunder tome all but smoking in her hand. "He said it's complicated," she says through gritted teeth.

By now Chrom has caught up to us. "What's happening here?" he asks.

"Acting-Exalt Chrom," Maribelle says, turning to Chrom without missing a beat. "As you know, I have been training for years in Ylissean law with the goal of becoming a magistrate judge. I ask that as Exalt, you appoint me to that position right now, and assign me the matter of Randall and the khans of Regna Ferox."

Well that's a conflict of interest if I ever heard one, but I'm not about to argue with how the Ylissean legal system apparently works if it lets something like that work in my favor.

Chrom's eyes glance from Maribelle, to Robin, to the khans. He takes a slow breath in before speaking.

"Maribelle, I hereby grant you the title of magistrate judge of the Halidom of Ylisse. The first case you are being assigned is the case of the Halidom of Ylisse against Gangrel, king of Plegia. I am also assigning you the case of the khans of Regna Ferox against Randall…" He turns to me. "Do you have a last name?"

I sigh. Guess I'd better keep things consistent. "Belmont."

He turns back to Maribelle. "Against Randall Belmont. For the time being, however, I am ordering as acting-Exalt that Randall be released from custody until his case can be heard before Judge Osprey. During that time, Randall is not to leave the city of Ylisstol, and he will be required to reside in the Shepherds barracks. Do you object, Flavia?"

"Of course I do. But I'm no fool. You can have this round, Shepherds. But he will answer for what he's done," she snarls, glaring down at me.

"Get him out of those manacles," Basilio orders calmly. The soldiers who shackled my wrists release me, and I get to my feet. I look Flavia in the face as she starts walking away. I see real hate in her eyes. Basilio looks at me sternly, but he certainly doesn't look as ready to flay me alive as the khan regent.

I have no idea why they think Thomas Paine sabotaged the negotiations, but I may need to find a way to get ahold of Eileen. She was one of the Patriots locked up with me in Southtown when the Feroxi were in charge there. I could also try to make contact with Henry or Vasto, but something tells me they won't be taking my calls about now. Aside from that, maybe that Regulus guy will turn up and vouch for me. Though somehow I doubt that, since it would make him look either wildly incompetent or like a traitor. I haven't decided myself which I think is more likely.

"Randall," Robin says, breaking me out of my reverie. "We should get ready to go."

"Right. There's still folks I haven't had the chance to say hi to yet, after all."

She gives me a weird look. "Uh, yeah. Frederick had to sit this battle out, so he and Emmeryn are in the medical wagon again. Wanna go see them?"

"Sure." I follow her as she walks toward the caravan. It's such a weird feeling being back with everyone. Even weirder is suddenly finding myself accused of mass murder and sabotage by the ruler of the largest nation in the continent. Even weirder than that, I played a direct role in ending a war today.

I think I need to sit down somewhere.

I'm pleasantly surprised by how happy Frederick is to see me again.

"Randall! Thank the gods you're safe! I had faith in your resourcefulness, of course, but I don't mind telling you I worried daily for your safety," he says, sitting up against the wall next to Emmeryn.

"I definitely went the long way round when it came to getting back here, but I'm glad I made it back," I reply. I look at Emm. "Hey there, Emmeryn. Do you remember me?" I'd heard from Lissa that Emmeryn's recovery has been coming along really well and she can usually understand what people are saying to her. I wanted to find out for myself.

She stares at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I don't… know."

I laugh to show her it isn't a problem. "I'm Randy."

"Randy," she repeats cautiously.

"That's right. I'm Frederick's friend. I'm also Lissa and Chrom's friend." She smiles, recognizing the others' names.

"Are you… my friend?" she asks.

"If you want," I reply.

"Randy is… my friend," she says gently, the smile growing on her face as she speaks.

"That makes me happy," I say, taking a seat on the floor in front of both of them. I'd never noticed this before, but Emm is pretty much all legs. Even though Frederick is taller than her standing up, her legs actually stretch farther than his. Which makes it all the sillier that Frederick is taller than her sitting against the wall like this. A perfectly balanced couple, in a sense.

I'm slightly startled when Emm reaches out with her leg and taps my knee with her toe, making me jump out of my daydream. She snickers quietly at my reaction.

"Milady has shown herself to be rather fond of little, innocent pranks like that," Frederick explains before I get a chance to ask. "I suspect that would be milady Lissa's influence on her." His tone is a little hard to place when he says that.

"I want to be… like Lissa," Emmeryn confirms with a resolute nod.

"As long as that makes you happy, I'm sure Lissa will have no problem with it," I reply.

"Ah, Randall, I realized just now that you haven't seen my masterpiece yet. I will have to show it to you soon," Frederick says. "It's a chair on wheels that I invented so that I can get around without having to rely on being carried, whether by horse or by man."

Frederick, you damn genius. You invented a wheelchair? "I can't wait to see it."

Next to us, Emmeryn yawns openly.

"I think that will have to wait for another day, though," Frederick says. "It looks like Lady Emmeryn would like to sleep, and I plan to keep watch over her."

I nod. "I getcha. I'll catch up more with you soon, alright?" I rise and look out the back flaps of the wagon. It's getting dark. "Good night, Emmeryn," I say.

"Good night, Randy," Emmeryn says, crawling dutifully over to her bedroll and getting ready to get in.

"I'll see you later, Frederick," I say as I head out of the wagon.

"I look forward to it," he replies.

When I leave the wagon, the first person I see is Lissa, who's heading for the wagon herself, no doubt to check in on Emm before bed.

"Hey there, Lissa," I say with a little wave as she approaches.

"Hey Randy. Oh, actually, there was something I wanted to ask you. And this might seem like a weird question, but I gotta ask," she says, her tone deadly serious.

"Uh, okay?"

"Have you had a birthday recently? Like, while you were in captivity?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah. On February 14th."

"Dangit! I knew it! We missed it!"

"You knew it? How? I don't think I ever mentioned my birthday to anyone in the Shepherds."

She scoffs. "Randy, come on. It's me. I know birthdays." She doesn't elaborate. It sounds like that's the whole explanation.

"Alrighty then. Well yeah. 22 years old and counting."

She points to her temples with her index fingers. "Locked in place forever now."

"Glad I could help," I say with a chuckle. "I'm gonna go meditate for a while."

"Okay, see you later!" She climbs into the medical wagon.

That reminds me! I still haven't seen Libra yet! He must've slipped my mind when I was so overwhelmed with seeing everyone else again and then getting arrested. Same with Tharja. I haven't gotten to see either of my dark magic teachers yet. It's been a damn busy day.

Luckily, I notice the wagons at the front of the caravan pulling off the side of the road and preparing to stop. Looks like we're setting up camp for the night. I'll see them at dinner, I'm sure.

As I head over to where the others are already at work to get a fire going, I feel a firm hand on my shoulder. I turn to see it's Chrom. He's already taken off the Great Lord armor and is back in his usual attire, plus a navy blue cloak for warmth.

"Randall. Think I could get a word?" he asks.

"Of course." My last meeting with Chrom was a little, uh, distracted, after all.

We get some distance between us and the others. He stares at the ground for a moment before looking me in the face.

"Randall, I want to start with an apology."

"Seems like a lot of folks feel the need to do that today," I say.

He shakes his head. "Not like that. Not an apology for you getting taken in the first place. But an apology for what I did afterward."

"What do you mean?"

"When you were taken…" He hesitates. "I accused you of being a traitor."

"Huh?"

"I had myself convinced that you had led us to the Anchorage estate because you arranged with Gangrel beforehand to intercept us. That everything had been a distraction to get us to the right place to be ambushed. This was before we learned that Virion's communications were being intercepted. Even after everything you've done for us. Done for me. I still accused you of being a traitor. It was only Maribelle speaking up for you and reminding me of all the details of that night that I was conveniently ignoring that got me to come to my senses."

"I… see." I don't know how to react. It feels like he thinks I should be angry, but… I'm not. It's not like I've ever been fully honest with him. He's not wrong to have distrusted me.

As if reading my mind, he goes on, "I understand you're a man with a lot of secrets. But despite them all, you've never given me any real reason to think you would betray us. You've been a friend to me, to my sisters… to everyone I care about. I was wrong to doubt you, even for a moment."

"Chrom, you really don't need to apologize," I say.

"What I'm really trying to say," Chrom interrupts, "is that no matter what Flavia says, I want you to know: I don't have any doubts. You're not the one who sabotaged the negotiations. I refuse to even entertain the notion."

"I, uh, I appreciate it. But you know… I was Thomas Paine. I may have been forced into it by the Patriots, but when Flavia accused me of that, it wasn't exactly wrong. I wasn't there at the negotiations, but I really was there in Southtown. Like I said before, it's complicated," I say.

"Well, as I said. I don't believe for a second that you've ever made a move against us. Whatever the particulars are, I'm sure of that," he says firmly.

My chest swells with gratitude. "I appreciate it, Chrom," I say.

"Heeey!" We're interrupted by a shout from Gaius. "When you lovebirds are done, dinner's ready!"

Chrom chuckles. "I guess we should get going."

"Right." I start walking off toward the campfire.

"One more thing, Randall," Chrom says. I stop and turn to look at him. "You saved my life today. And you helped me put a stop to this senseless war. I won't forget that. You have my gratitude."

"You saved my life too. Let's call it even," I reply with a smile.

He smiles in return. "I think I can live with that."

I don't think I've ever felt this popular before. Most of the Shepherds clamor to sit near me so they can ask me all kinds of questions about my time with the Patriots, or to tell me about what's been going on since I was taken, or just because, as Cordelia put it, "you're always so warm."

I consider making an express choice about who I want sitting next to me, but when I try to think of who I'd choose, my mind comes up blank. I've missed everyone so much; there's no one I'd be disappointed to be seated with right now. I decide to just sort of let the squabble sort itself out.

I notice that Robin isn't among those vying for proximity. Instead, she just quietly watches from the other side of the fire, smiling slightly.

I'll admit it, I'm just a little bummed she wasn't part of this whole goofy mess.

In the end, no one proved to be a match for Nowi's power, and she ends up on my right. Gregor takes his place on my left and insists on sharing his flask with me. I guess I should consider myself honored; no one's allowed to partake of his liquor most of the time. Though when I try it, my suspicions are confirmed: it's vodka. And not good vodka either; it's that suspiciously inexpensive stuff you find on the bottom shelf with the label all in Cyrillic.

I cough a bit after taking a couple swallows. "Christ alive, Gregor, you could strip paint with that stuff," I say as he chuckles at me.

"Is good, no?" he asks.

"We'll call it an acquired taste," I reply.

What's not an acquired taste is the dinner we're having tonight. At my request, Stahl handled dinner preparation, so tonight we're having venison and bread. Not the most luxurious thing in the world, but shared with friends, a venison sandwich is the most delicious thing I can remember having in ages.

Speaking of sharing meals with friends, I notice a conspicuous absence.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask all day. Where's Libra? Did he stay behind in Ylisstol to help with rebuilding or something?" I ask.

The reaction is instant. Every person around the fire goes dead silent. Some people go out of their way not to look at me, while others give me a look of sheer pity. The Shepherds that were crowding around me just seconds ago suddenly feel miles away.

Oh God. Come on. Please.

After the longest few seconds of my life, Robin stands up from her spot on the opposite side of the fire. She crosses over and holds out her hand, prompting me to rise and join her.

"Come on. I'll fill you in," she says emotionlessly. I take her hand and get up to follow her.

I lead Randall to the command wagon. It's been so long since the two of us were in here together. I remember when we had our fourth run of that battle against the Grimleal in the desert, before we had told each other about our power. We both needed a nap, so I slept leaned over the table while Randall slept under it, using my tome as a pillow. It's a comforting memory. A nice thought to distract myself from what I have to tell him now, if only for a few precious seconds.

He closes the wagon up behind him. I consider sitting on opposite sides of the table like usual, but that wouldn't feel right. This isn't a strategy meeting. Instead, I go over to the right wall and sit down on the wooden floor, leaning up against the wall. I pat the floor next to me, and he sits down too. To get more comfortable, I slip my coat and boots off and set them aside. He does the same. I hadn't noticed until he took his coat off, but he's gotten bigger since he left. I heard someone say he fought off Gangrel without using any magic at all. I guess he's been training in physical combat since he was taken.

I can't put off telling him any longer.

"Okay. I think you deserve to hear about the whole battle," I say. Maybe it'll be easier for me if I can approach it like I'm just giving a battle summary.

"Alright," he says quietly. He's no fool. He probably knows where this is going.

I stare at the opposite wall as I recount the circumstances of the battle. "We'd already cut off the Plegian supply lines, but they had moved their food stockpiles inside the city walls before we arrived. I suspect Virion's intercepted communication probably tipped them off that we were coming. Anyway, we had a growing operation set up outside to keep ourselves fed, but at the rate things were going, we were just sitting ducks, really. We could keep them from leaving, but they had enough food to last through the whole winter in there. General Campari told us reinforcements were coming, but they never did."

Randall finishes my thought. "That's probably our fault. Or, you know, the Patriots'."

"Right." I go on, "I, well, all of us, really, we were worried about you. We didn't want to make you wait in captivity through the whole winter for us to rescue you. But at the same time, it was taking all our resources to keep the Plegians secured inside the city. I started devising a plan to either capture or destroy the food stores and speed up their surrender."

"Is that why the Feroxi were occupying Southtown? To keep your food supplies stocked by local farmers?" he asks.

"Yeah. So I came up with a plan. One of their storehouses was adjacent to the city wall, so I had the wall blasted open and we extracted the food. The others were deeper inside the city. One was in a residential area, so we had Phila's company fly in some mages to torch the place. The last food storehouse was inside the palace itself, so we were going to have more trouble with that one.

"At the same time, General Campari informed us that they were keeping a hundred Ylissean hostages inside the city, hoping that would force us to surrender. So part of the plan involved breaking into the palace dungeon and getting the prisoners out."

"Sounds like a lot of activity was focused around the palace. Did the Feroxi draw the bulk of their force out or something?" he asks.

"That's exactly it. The khans handled that side of the operation. Chrom and I led a team to get inside the palace storehouse. And… Gaius led a team into the dungeon to free the hostages. Libra was on that team."

"Mmhmm," Randall says, starting to see where I'm going with this.

"Everything went almost perfectly. We destroyed the food and got everyone from our team out. Gaius and Anna worked like crazy to get the hostages, all one hundred of them, out of the dungeon. But the Feroxi weren't able to keep all of the Plegian main force occupied. General Campari realized what we were doing and bailed on fighting us to order some of his soldiers to intercept the team freeing the hostages. Donnel, Libra, and a few Feroxi soldiers held off the enemy as long as they could to give Gaius and Anna more time."

I take a deep, shaky breath before going on. "In the end, the Feroxi soldiers went down. Donnel was hurt pretty badly, so Libra told him to escape while he could. Then Libra held off the Plegians himself while Gaius got the last few hostages out. Libra told Gaius he was right behind him, but that was a lie. Libra knew then that he'd never make it to the city wall in his condition. Instead, he stayed and fought with the strength he had left."

Randall takes a deep breath in and out through his nose. "And that was it, then? He died buying time for Gaius and the hostages to get out?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah. When Sumia recovered his body after the battle, she said she found him with a smile on his face."

"That's good," he says blankly.

"With the food gone, it was only a few days before Campari surrendered. His forces were removed from the city and we moved in. We had a funeral for Libra not long after. And the restoration effort started straightaway. I…" I feel my face reddening with shame. "I had spent so much of the siege wondering when I would finally be able to leave and go find you. But after Libra… I was terrified to see you again. I put off leaving to find you for long enough that Gangrel's summons for peace negotiations arrived before I finally plucked up the courage to go. And then… everything happened."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him nod slowly. "I understand. It sounds like you had a good plan to cripple the Plegians inside the city. Almost went off without a hitch, huh?" he says.

"Randall, I…" What can I possibly say? What apology could ever be enough? My subpar plan is what got Libra killed. His mentor. His friend. There's no forgiveness for this.

I stand up and pick up my boots. "I know you have a lot to process," I say, my chest tightening. "I'll leave you alone for a while so you can—"

A hand on my left wrist. Gripping tight, but not painfully. I look behind me at his face. His expression is twisted with the effort to stay composed. He says something, but his throat is so tight I don't make it out.

"What?" I ask.

"Don't go. Please don't go." I drop my boots to the floor with a leathery whump. "I don't wanna be by myself anymore," he says, so quiet I can barely hear it even in this silent wagon.

In a second, I'm back on the floor, sitting on my knees. I throw my hands around his shoulders, cradling his head as the first heartbreaking sob escapes his lips. His arms wrap around my chest, grabbing fistfuls of my shirt as he wails, his hot breath warming my mostly bare shoulder.

I reach up with one hand and gently untie the cloth strip holding his ponytail together. Hoping it helps to soothe him, I stroke his hair. I try to think of something to say—it's okay, don't worry, anything—but it all seems so fake. Of course it isn't okay. Of course he has something to worry about.

"I'm here," I whisper. It's the only thing I can really say right now that feels genuine. "I'm here. I'm here." If anything, it seems like it's making him cry harder. But he doesn't let go. And I'm not about to abandon him now. Never again.

He doesn't say anything. I don't know what's going through his head, but if he's not going to say it, I'm not going to ask today. He can definitely have today to just grieve.

I don't know how long we stay like this. Thirty minutes. An hour. Two. I don't mind. After some time, I notice he isn't sobbing anymore. Just breathing deeply onto my shoulder. I realize he must have fallen asleep there. Cried himself straight to sleep.

Slowly, very carefully, I loosen my grip on him. He doesn't move for a moment, but after a little bit, he changes positions, lying down on the floor, his head resting on my lap.

I lean back against the wall and carefully swing my legs around so they stretch out straight. I don't want to move him now that he's finally resting peacefully, but if I'm settling in for the night, I need to be at least a little comfy.

I rest my hand on his face, stroking his cheek slowly with my thumb. He sighs in his sleep, nestling his head closer to me. The movement sends a shiver up my spine.

I make a silent promise to myself. I will never, ever allow Randy to hurt like this again. I'll do whatever it takes. I will protect him.

Because I love him. I've denied it long enough. But I can admit it, at least to myself.

I decide to see how the words feel in my mouth. "I love you," I say, lower than a whisper. Scarcely more than a breath. My quiet truth.

A/N: A little bit tongue in cheek with that title, considering how late I am with getting this out. Turns out, working full time for the courts is a pretty taxing gig. But really, it's a little mindblowing to see that over three years have passed since I started this project. For those who have been here since the beginning, I can't express my appreciation enough for all your kind words. And for those just hopping aboard, welcome! Of course, I owe so much to Mixed Valence and Syntaxis for being my consistent support base from the early days to now. MV has been doing a lot of exciting stuff with Three Houses, so be sure to check him out. Syntaxis is the most successful of the three of us at consistently juggling two stories, so whether Awakening or 3H is more your speed, she's got good stuff for you. And here is your Mixed Valence out-of-context quote of the week: "You were mean to me twice so I murdered you."

Let's address some reviews:

DD360: Well, I guess he didn't succeed in dying this time, good man or otherwise. It's been fun giving Gangrel a proper arc, even a circular one. I always felt like the game brushes him aside way too quickly, so digging into what makes him tic has been really rewarding for me. Hopefully other plot movements in this chapter made up for the stay on the conclusion of his story.

Information Broker: Thank you for the kind words! Writing the negotiations was a ton of fun for me. Getting to get unabashedly political with the plot was a blast. I'm glad that the beats of that chapter resonated with you. Giving Mustafa and Gangrel a more complex relationship was one of my favorite parts of this arc.

V01dSw0rd: Sable is the Darksphere as it was known in Marth's time. Each of the spheres—the Lightsphere, Starsphere, etc.—were given a new name in the Awakening era for some reason.

Ailing Loran: Hopefully the natural followup to a series of curveballs is a set of solid plot hits with this chapter. I wanted to start into the arc resolution phase with this chapter, so ideally that came across.

Faranon423: Often our greatest regrets are for what could have been. And worse yet, the only man who knew how close Gangrel was to a breakthrough is now dead. Thank you for your review!

Otacon: As I mentioned above, hopefully this chapter served as a kind of coming-together of all these long-disparate plot threads. As for Gangrel, I guess that ball is in Maribelle's court now, huh? ;D

Maridus: Don't sell your ideas too short there, boss~

Remvis: Looks like I went with option two. Hope that's the one you end up preferring! Thank you for your review and your suggestions on what my obstacles down the line may be!

Ninni51: The coveted 420th spot had to go to someone, so props for snatching it up lol. I guess in retrospect it's better that I didn't have Randall and Luci camp out in Ylisstol, otherwise they might not've made it in time :P

CaptainMoonshine: Thank you for your kind review! One of the most flattering things for me to hear from my readers is that I've taken something that normally isn't to their taste and changed their mind on it, at least for this story. I'm glad BaRD has kept you engaged despite your relative unfamiliarity with the source material. I really recommend it by the way! P.S. I too have a lot of fun writing Luci.

Soupreme: Hope it lived up to the hype! Thanks for reading!

Call Brig On Over: I'm curious what you've predicted, and how much my writing has matched up with it. Hope you liked it!

Chretner: I guess I did technically do one more battle without respawning, but I'm not sure if that's how you meant it lol. I hope you enjoyed the reunion regardless!

Hello I am Username: I guess I did play it rather safe when it came to which characters were okay to sacrifice in the name of heightening the stakes. Though Cordelia would throttle you for suggesting it :P As for who the Traveler is and why Diana didn't recognize him as anyone in particular, whooo could saaay~? I didn't like how I killed Mustafa either. That's why I had to do it that way. Sometimes people don't get the ends they deserve, and Mustafa definitely went down like that. As for Gangrel, well, I guess I didn't capitalize on the moment to finally end him completely, but I'm interested to see what you'll make of him from here on. Honestly, as far as dragging out this reunion goes, that was only a little bit deliberate. Mostly it was just a matter of me trying to make all my relative timelines match up and thinking about where they best intersect. As I mentioned above, Sable isn't a person, but a thing, the Darksphere that Plegia is hanging onto after the Fire Emblem was busted up. Thank you for your thorough review! I look forward to seeing what you thought of this one!

CaptainMoonshine: I gotta be careful about rationing my songs! Don't wanna run out now :P

Izunama: How was The Reunion(tm)? Did it live up to the buildup? Glad you seem to be so invested in the outcome of this arc! Thanks for reading!

Scoolio: No comment :|

Stormtide Leviathan: Hope this chapter was a nice followup to the stuff you enjoyed last chapter!

SomeDudeThatReads: I'm glad you enjoyed the story so far! Hope you enjoyed the catharsis of Randall finally getting back with the gang!

Guest: It remains to be seen just how ready the world of Awakening really is for democracy. I plan to have some fun exploring that down the line.

Insaneauthor050701: I don't think I've ever had the experience of someone leaving a review that says "this was shit to read" followed by evidence that you read at least 32 more chapters after that. Did I slowly have you come around on some of my stuff? In any case, some of your points are well taken. Particularly regarding how good an idea the Patriots cause is for the world as it is now. That'll be getting some elaboration down the line. As for why Vasto is stronger than you seem to think he should be, I don't subscribe to the idea that level in-game should in any way correlate to strength in the world of the story. Not all gameplay elements are created equal; there's no way a group of trained soldiers would barely be a match for some wild bandits. In my estimation, there's no reason Vasto couldn't be a formidable enemy, considering he was put in charge of intercepting the entire Ylissean armed forces as they fled east. I don't know if that'll convince you, but that's just my thoughts on the subject.

Sike thats the wrong number: Whooo could saaay~?

Dat-boi-waddup: I don't know if you'll ever make it this far, but if you do, hi! Thanks for reading!

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As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!