Anamnesis: Chapter 1 – I have crippling depression

AN: Hello everyone! Hound here, coming at you straight from nonstop playing Three Houses. I was a big fan of Awakening, so much so that it was actually the game that boosted me into reading fanfiction in the first place in 2013. Since then, I have read through countless stories and decided to take a crack at my own writing with BNHA, but I wanted so dearly to go back to my roots. With the release of FE3H, I had my in, especially with the assistance of my amazing death bow knight Bernie, who I am utterly convinced is just depressed female Morgan. Which then got me thinking, well, what if she really IS Morgan, and instead of our straight-faced Byleth, we had our red silo cup Robin in his role instead?

This is my attempt at incorporating all of that into one story. Here we go!

I do not own Fire Emblem or any of its characters.

"Now, Robin! This is our chance! I'm going to finish it!"

"…no, Chrom." Raising his right hand, the white-haired man started to condense a sphere of dark energy in his palm, magical essence seeping from the center like stray bolts of lightning. "I will."

"…Robin?! Wait, what-"

"…what…what are you doing?"

"For once, I'm glad that you and I are the same. Now I can give my life to protect those I care for…"

"…you would…not dare!"

"I would and I will. The evils you would visit on this world are unthinkable…In some way, I – we share the blame. It's only right we meet our end together!"

"...NOOOOOOO!"

Focusing as much of his magic into the growing sphere, Robin pushed his hand out towards the Fell Dragon and let the spell fly free. Upon contact with the avatar, the dragon form let out a terrible screech and started to go limp.

"Robin! NO!" Rushing over to the still-standing body, the crown exalt of Ylisse, Chrom could only watch in horror as the man he loved as a brother started to decay in his grasp, tears falling freely.

"Thank you, Chrom. For…everything…Tell Morgan and the others…my last thoughts were of them…May we meet again, in a better life…"

"Tell them yourself, Robin! No, no, no! Lissa! LISSA! Help, please!" Grasping now at thin air, Chrom looked down at his hands to see that the space his friend occupied was now bereft of any material thing.

"Ah gods, NO!" Collapsing to the ground, Chrom wept openly as the surrounding area started to glow a shimmering green, teleporting the collected fighters away from swiftly falling body of the dragon they stood upon.

"What happened? I couldn't see over all of the risen." A shorter boy with a large mage hat asked his nearest companion.

"I am not certain, Ricken, but I believe that we…may have lost someone." The female noble responded, a parasol held tightly in her hands.

Short mutterings broke out among the veteran fighters as they searched their ranks, attempting to find who may have lost their lives in the epic battle. The search was short-lived, however, as many more turned to find their leader on the ground softly sobbing, watching as the body of the dragon dissipated into nothingness.

"Chrom, darling, what happened?" A pegasus knight with dull-brown hair approached the man, crouching down to his level.

"He, he, I couldn't stop him. It's just like Emmeryn all over again. That selfless bastard…he couldn't think for himself for once, we could have stopped it, I could have stopped it."

"Who, Chrom?"

"Father? Father, where are you?"

As the voice rose above the din of mutterings, Chrom froze in place, turning to meet its owner. Rising from the ground, Chrom's gaze turned downwards as a short girl, no older than fifteen, approached the overlook towards the sea. Gathering himself in expert time, he packed away his grief to address the next greatest hurdle.

"Chrom, there you are. I was beginning to get worried. Where's father? He was with you last, was he not? Did you see where he went?"

"Morgan." Gods, this will be harder than I thought. "Robin, he…he isn't here anymore."

"What?" Morgan halted, her inquisitive gaze sharply turned wide. "What do you mean he isn't here anymore? You mean he went back to the convoy already? He is pretty quick, but he would have passed by me, right?"

"No, Morgan. He…he did not go back to the convoy. He cannot go anywhere right now."

"Is he hurt, then?" The girl's look started to become more frantic, her breath quickening. "Then where is he? Where's my father? Where's dad?"

"Morgan, I'm…" Looking around at the ensemble, Chrom rose his voice."When we went to perform the Awakening, Naga offered Robin another option to take down Grima. The empowered Falchion would be enough to seal Grima for another thousand years, but if Robin were to land the final blow on Grima, it would eradicate the beast completely, never to return and plague any of our ancestors. However, the cost was that Robin would…he would…"

Steeling his nerves, Chrom looked down onto the now trembling girl and spoke. "In return, Robin would perish alongside Grima. I'm…sorry, Morgan. Robin felled the dragon."

Void, so this is nothingness, then. This feeling of…well, no feeling is quite a stark experience. No color, no temperature, no roughness, no feeling, no seeing. Absolute nothingness. Perhaps now I can finally rest. I've just now killed a god, after all.

…

Well, just now is quite relative, I suppose. Just now according to my memory could, in theory, have happened eons ago when in here, or not yet even occurred. How does nothing work, I wonder? Would it be better to say I last recall killing a god? I will kill a god, I've already killed one? Gods, this is confusing. Best not get hung up on it, I suppose. Retain what sanity I have while I whittle away into the expanse of nothing.

…

…

…That was oxymoronic. Can one call nothing expansive? I mean, everything is nothing, but then again, all that is, is nothing at all. It makes sense as a figure of speech, I suppose, but has anyone really considered the denotation as compared to its connotation? You cannot really have a whole lot of nothing since there is nothing to have. Is it weird that we consider nothing like an independent something when it really means that there is nothing to be independently considered?

And I'm back to rambling to myself. Again. I will more than likely go insane at this rate. Just close my eyes and rest.

…

…

…

…At what rate do I really go insane at? Do seconds back in Ylisse translate to seconds here, or is time delayed here? Progressively increasing? Is one second in Ylisse a minute here, an hour? The other way around?

Gods, will I shut up?

Not until I exhaust my questions!

I have all of eternity to figure it out, so just shut up!

And we need every moment of eternity to figure out what is nothing! Speaking of moments of eternity, what do you consider a moment of eternity really is, since eternity is an infinite amount of time? Should we consider pockets of time to also be equally eternal, but not necessarily as eternal as void eternity?

I am progressing to Miriel and Laurent levels of theory. Do I want to become like them?

…

That's what I thought. Hey, what do I see?

It looks like a bright light, me.

A very bright light indeed. Oh well, it was nice talking to myself I suppose, now I have to look all sane and rational and stuff.

Shame, till next I sleep I suppose.

"Hey. Time to wake up."

"Ugh, just five more minutes, Frederick. You give me no pleasures in life, you know that?"

"Well, whoever this 'Frederick' is, seems to be quite dutiful in their late-night workings, at least, but I think you have me confused with someone else, stranger."

Processing what he heard took Robin only the span of a second as he bolted upright, taking in the surrounding area. A simply furnished house, tables, and bookshelves everywhere, their contents hidden by the dark of the night. Looking to his right, Robin took in the man before him.

"Wow, Gregor, you clean up well. And you've really worked hard on cleaning up your speech as well. I'm impressed. You've got a couple more cuts than last I saw you, and your hair is, well, different."

"Uh…once again stranger, I think you have me confused with someone else. My name is Jeralt, I'm the leader of a band of mercenaries."

"Mercenaries, eh? Well, officially, Ylisse asks each traveling band to register themselves with the royal arms guild for identification purposes. Do you possess your paperwork, it would help me triangulate how I can get back to the capital in a timely manner."

"Ylisse? Registration? Son, I have no idea what it is that you're talking about. Fódlan doesn't require any official registration for traveling mercenaries, and even if they did, it would more than likely be through the church of Seiros rather than any capital city, especially given the current political climate."

"Wait, Church of Seiros, free-traveling mercenaries, political climate, Fódlan…"

"You starting to remember now? It sounded like you were talking about a bunch of made-up fairytale stuff there for a second, I was starting to get worried." Jeralt put on an easy smile at that.

Robin looked up to the man. "What the hell is a Fódlan?"

"Oh goddess…"

"Jeralt! Sir! Sorry to barge in, but your presence is needed."

"What's happened?"

"Sir, there is a small group of wanderers outside, they look the noble part. They've asked for the assistance of our group to handle some ruffians."

"Alright, I'll be out in a minute."

With each passing moment, Robin's mind raced. As far as I can recall, there is no region named Fódlan on Ylisse's main body continent. Given the look of the land outside and the nighttime temperature, I can reasonably eliminate Plegia and Regna Ferox. Unfortunately, it looks like I've landed myself into Valm with a group of uneducated mercenaries. All of the little regions are so weirdly split up and have such complicated names. I honestly don't remember half of the places we battled at while fighting against Walhart. More than likely, I am somewhere near the Mila tree given the dense forestry. I guess I can pay Say'ri a visit at Valm Castle and make my way back to Ylissitol by boat.

"Well, stranger, I don't know who you are and what you are doing here, but it looks as though you are armed. Given these noble types, having a bit more muscle around tends to make them trust you a bit more, so why don't you follow me outside and we take a look at what's happening."

"Well, I see no problem with that at all. I actually would like to get into contact with some of these nobles myself, they may know who I am." Raising himself to his full height, Robin straightened his posture. Best I set a good example now with presentation, nobles don't usually make contact directly with the mercenary bands under their command, other than Chrom, and Lissa, Flavia, Basilio, Say'ri…alright, they may make more contact than I assumed. Damn the fluctuating concept of propriety!

"Oh, is that right?" A disbelieving look washed across the now-named Jeralt's face.

"It is. May I ask you I question?"

"I guess?"

"What is your current level of education?"

"Haha!" The man guffawed into Robin's face. "Such a blunt question to ask, kid, and especially not one that I thought you were going to ask me! You've got a pair on you, that much is certain. C'mon, we can talk about that later. Got go and help the privileged now."

"Please, forgive our intrusion. We wouldn't bother you were the situation not dire." Started the first, a blond man dressed in black and blue, flanked on his right by a man with black hair dressed in black and yellow, and to his left a woman with white hair dressed in red and yellow.

Definitely the noble type, given the way they hold themselves, but none that I have ever met while in Valm. From where do they hail?

"What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?" Jeralt started, raising himself up to his full height.

"We're being pursued by a group of bandits." The blond one stated. "I can only hope that you will be so kind as to lend your support."

"Bandits? Here?" Robin asked, entering himself into the conversation and drawing the attention of the group. "That seems to be quite the egregious error for them, considering the lay of the land and our current position. We hold a tactical advantage with the surrounding foliage, cover of the night, and the high ground. Any small group of archers would make quick work of them from the shadows of the trees."

All four turned to look at the man, varying levels of surprise at the quick breakdown of the situation and basic troop placement.

The dark-haired one recovered first. "Well well well, it looks as though you have a seasoned tactician in your ranks, sir…"

"Just call me Jeralt for now. Where did you set up camp? Should we expect any backup or are you traveling alone?"

"We were separated from our companions and we're outnumbered. They've come after us at the bottom of the hill in the first opening, attempting to take our lives and gold."

"Given the situation, I must say that I am impressed that all of you are handling this so calmly. I…wait. That uniform…" Jeralt's eyes widened when he fully took in the patterns across each of the member's uniforms.

"Jeralt, sir!" Another mercenary approached the stalled group. "Bandits have been spotted just outside the village! And damn…there are a lot of them."

"I guess they followed you all the way here." Jeralt concluded, shifting his hands to unclasp the shield on his back. "We can't abandon this village now."

Turning to face Robin, Jeralt reached out his hand. "I know that we just met, but a lot of innocent lives could be in harm's way if we don't do something to stop these bandits from attacking Remire Village. It is a lot to ask, but can I count on your support to help deal with these pests?"

How odd, Robin mused, to be awoken in some unfamiliar place and then help deal with bandits besieging a local village within the area. This is startlingly familiar to how Chrom found me, but this time I at least wasn't besieged by Frederick's wariness from the moment I opened my eyes.

Taking a breath, Robin put on a confident grin and took hold of Jeralt's hand. "Of course I will help you. After all, I wouldn't be able to hold my title of grandmaster tactician if I was to give up in the face of some petty bandits. I suppose bandits are a problem everywhere, even here in Valm. Let's head out."

Walking towards the incline, the four behind him looked to one another.

"What the hell is a Valm?"

Hmm, a total of seven against the three nobles. Slightly more than double their numbers, but the likes of them are literally nothing to me after dealing with the likes of deadlords and Grima. As it stands, I can probably deal with this entire threat myself and be on my way in less than a few minutes.

But…experience is the best teacher, especially in combat, and I have three wars worth of experience while it looks as though those nobles have only watched their personal guards handle the ruffians for them. I guess it never hurts to get good in with foreign nobles, makes handling foreign policy less unbearable than normal. Tension is still pretty high between Walhart's former legion of supporters and the traditional Valmese governance, I wouldn't be terribly surprised if we saw a change of government in the near future. Thankfully, I won't have to handle it personally, that would be a nightmare, but I wouldn't be surprised if Say'ri became a constant contact from here on out.

At a precursory glance, it seems we have a lance wielder, an axe user, a bow user, me, the sword and magic dual wielder, and Jeralt, who seems to be a type of knight. No healers given the lack of staves, but if I were to find one I could probably use it. Based on my preliminary analysis of the enemy troops, it seems highly unlikely that we will require any form of magical healing, rather a simple vulnerary should work fine for any wounds the nobles receive.

Now, the strategy…I'll distract four of the foes by myself while I let the nobles handle one-on-one battles. I'll wound three of the others for the nobles to subsequently handle while taking on the leader for myself, have to show off my strength in some way. Jeralt can provide assistance where needed or handle any backup that arrives.

The blond boy approached him. "Alright, sir…?"

"Robin. Call me Robin."

"Ah, yes then. Sir Robin, if I am not mistaken, you mentioned that you are a tactician, yes? Have you any idea about how we should approach this group of bandits?"

"I do. You and the other two accompanying you shall follow me as we directly engage the bandits. By the way, what are your names?"

"Oh, I suppose we did skip over any formal introductions, so I shall be quick. My name is Dimitri, the lady in red is Edelgard, and the fellow in yellow is Claude. If I may ask, I thought you said we hold an advantage upon the incline, so why should we move to engage them, instead of letting them meet us?"

"A keen ear, Dimitri. Letting the enemy come to us while we possess favorable ground would normally be among the most advantageous moves we could make, however, we now have to account for the nearby village. Given the position of the trees relative to the houses, letting these bandits come any closer than necessary runs the risk of fires reaching the village at a rate that we cannot control any damage. As such, stopping their frontal assault now eliminates the need to consider civilian lives, but in turn, removes our tactical advantage. In every situation, I would take the one that minimizes the loss of lives."

"Well spoken, sir," turning his head, Robin looked on as the other two, Edelgard and Claude, approached him and Dimitri, "it is not often that one meets someone who values all lives as being equal to one another." Edelgard continued.

"Well, after fighting in three wars, you tend to grasp an understanding of the cost of human life, especially when you were the one commanding the entire efforts of a kingdom single-handedly."

"Wait, three wars?! That…makes no sense, the most recent war was between the Adrestian Empire and the combined forces of Dagda and Brigid, and before that, was the Leicester Rebellion and the Crescent Moon War nearly three hundred years ago, and before that was the Faerghus Rebellion and the War of the Eagle and Lion, one hundred years before that!"

"I…have no idea what you are talking about to be completely honest, Claude. Right now, however, we have an enemy to engage. Listen, each of you is to take one of the three enemies to our left, I will lead an independent charge to the right and take on the four. Whoever I do not kill immediately, I expect you to finish off. The commander will be mine to handle independently. Understood?"

A quick chorus of yesses started the first of Robin's many inevitable encounters in this new land.

"Hey, you with the weird cloak! Outta my way! Kostas won't be turning up empty-handed with this job!"

Robin watched on with a lazy expression as the self-proclaimed Kostas rushed towards him, axe raised high above his head. "You know, the way you just worded that implies that you usually turn up empty-handed. You probably make for a pretty lousy bandit, if I can even call you that."

"Gah, I'll cleave you in two!"

"I highly doubt you possess the physical strength to even jostle my clothing, but we shall see, I suppose."

The three lords watched on with interest as Robin sheathed his sword, a repeatedly improved and reforged Levin sword that seemed to brim with magical potency, and held his hands to his sides.

"Sir Robin, the ruffian is drawing closer." Dimitri noted.

"I can see that."

"Shouldn't you, I dunno, have a weapon drawn to block his attack with?" Claude asked, tensing himself to watch as this strange man would be cleaved apart.

"Under most normal circumstances, I suppose so."

"Sir, you must do something!" Edelgard pressed, Kostas nearly on them.

"Don't worry, I will." Flashing each of the nobles a smirk, Robin reached within himself and activated Pass, and blurred from his spot to holding Kostas's hands in place with his left hand.

"But first, a little lesson in power."

The nobles and Kostas could only watch on as Robin continued with his speech. "I can tell that each of you are, in some manner, a noble by birth. Barring you, of course, Kastas. You have your own experiences, and I have mine, but it is plain to me that each of you, when compared to me…"

"It's Kostas! And how the hell are you so strong?!"

Tightening his grip, Robin faded his hearing to the sickening sound of the man's hands that he held in his grasp crushed together.

"…are absolutely weak. The only way you can even hope to measure up to my likeness, to be as strong as I am one day, is to train fervently and with diligence. There is no shortcut in the path of gaining literal strength. I have trained almost nonstop for nearly four years through three wars, and this, this is the result."

Flinging the man from his grasp, Robin ignited Ignis as he condensed a simple Thunder spell in his palm, and flung it at the man.

In every other circumstance where Robin used the most basic spell in his repertoire, the medium-sized ball of electricity would rapidly descend upon his victim, explode with magical power in the form of electrical shocks, and kill his enemy. When he turned to look at the ball of electricity now, however, Robin noticed that the once chest-sized ball of electricity was about the size of a full-grown wyvern.

"Huh, they've never gotten that big befo-"

The surrounding area exploded in light as the spell connected with the poor brigand.

"Jeralt, is that you?!"

"Ugh, why him?"

"Captain Jeralt, it is you! Goodness, it's been ages. Do you remember me? It's Alois! Your old – hey, what's that?"

A flash of light filled the area, followed by a deafening roar of sound and harsh burst of wind.

"Those nobles…"

"Good heavens, the students! Come, captain! We have to protect them!"

Gathering himself, Jeralt rushed towards the likely epicenter of the blast.

By the gods, the magical potency in this land must be immense! It felt natural to just cast the spell, but I hadn't considered the equivalent exchange for the spell itself, usually a page from a tome. At my level, I could cast Thunder with the exchange of a bit of my energy, not tome required, but I felt nothing when I cast this! Given the size and density of the spell, I should have felt a fairly significant pull, but either the air in this land is saturated with magic or something inside me has changed.

Dimitri was the first to recover from the display. "By the goddess, to have such a level of magical manipulation, it's unheard of…"

"You know," Claude started, "after watching that, I might have to believe that this guy was in three wars. Are you, by any chance, roughly four-hundred and fifty years?"

"It is more likely that he has been studying the arcane arts far longer than any other person we have met, Claude." Edelgard remarked, attempting to rationalize the subject. "You must have attended one of the arcaneums, perhaps the one in the empire? To have mastered a spell such as Ragnarok…although, for you to possess your current level of manipulation, you must have been enrolled extremely early, to a point that even I would have heard of it. My father would have taken interest in a magical prodigy such as yourself."

"Perhaps so, Edelgard, or he could have attended the one in the kingdom." Dimitri countered. "I agree that Ionius IX would not have let such a talented individual escape his grasp, but it is for that exact reason that it seems unlikely he studied in Adrestian territory. The kingdom's school of sorcery in Fhirdiad does produce exceptional individuals, after all. And such strength as well, he must have earned that while working under the Blade Breaker…"

"Or maybe he just studied a lot of magic when he was a kid and turned out to be a natural prodigy all within alliance territory."

Turning their heads, Edelgard and Dimitri both gave Claude a blank expression.

"What? It's unlikely, but it could have happened!"

"Uh, guys? You do know that I am right here?"

"Well, regardless of where or how he came to possess such techniques," Edelgard continued, "what matters now is how he will put them to use. Such strength, both literally and in arcane matters, will prove to be an invaluable asset to the empire when I enlist him to serve in the Black Eagle house in the academy."

"Hah, Edelgard! I do not recall you making any attempts at learning the art of jesting, but I will admit that what you just said had to have been the most ridiculous thing I have heard all day! This Robin fellow would fare far better in the Blue Lion house and as an individual in service to the kingdom of Faerghus! Especially as a tactician. Given the way he holds himself, such confidence and superiority, he must have some ties to nobility himself. It would be the only natural environment for him."

"Oh, look at the two of you, squabbling like children over this man just for his talents. As a fellow man working as an equal in the Golden Deer house and with the Leicester Alliance, everyone would value him for who he is, even with his skewed notion of geography. As such, I call dibs on him being in my house."

"Claude, you cannot call dibs on a man you just met. And Dimitri, I would not expect Robin to have to deal with any nobles was he in service to the empire, it being such a decrepit and outdated system as it is. Perhaps you should review your thoughts before you insist on making them the words you speak, it makes for a lacking ruler."

"First of all, that was a Thunder spell I cast, I don't know what happened. And secondly, I am literally right in front of the three of you. Can you not hear me?"

"Edelgard, it was only a suggestion. Perhaps you should not jump too hastily to the most negative outcome based on what people say, it makes for a lacking ruler. Although she is right Claude, you cannot call dibs on Sir Robin."

"Ah, but that goes against the very nature of dibs in the first place! You cannot manipulate it to serve your intentions on a whim or when it inconveniences you either. That is part of the rule of dibs. Besides, a budding tactician like myself needs an excellent instructor such as himself. Given the display of my tactical prowess when we first encountered those bandits, we all could have handled those bandits soundly had the both of you read my intentions more clearly, and under Robin's instruction, I would certainly flourish!"

"Your tactical prowess, you say? At first sight of those bandits, you turned coat and fled the scene!" Edelgard exclaimed.

"Excuse me, I believe the words that you are looking for are tactical retreat. And it would have worked splendidly had the both of you not followed after me! Diverting their forces and all of that!"

"Alright, that's enough!" Robin shouted, startling each of the nobles. "Listen, I just met each of you not even an hour ago, and while it sounds like each of you has a splendid offer for me, I can't stay here in Valm. I already work in the service of another lord in the halidom of Ylisse. You know, the land across the sea? You might be some of the most sheltered nobles that I have ever met."

Drawing offended looks from each of them, Robin took a mental step back. Alright, insulting their intelligence may not be the best idea, even though it usually works with Chrom. Sighing, Robin ran his hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry, but I have a lot of people expecting my return. I just need to get to a major city hub, talk with Say'ri, and organize a return trip to Ylisse."

Each of the nobles looked between one another before Edelgard spoke up. "Sir, I can speak for each of us when I say that we have no clue what it is that you are talking about. There is no country of –"

"The students! There you are! Are all of you alright? Do any of you require medical assistance?"

"Ah, Alois." Dimitri turned to greet the knight in blindingly white armor. "Each of us is unharmed, thanks to the efforts of Sir Robin. I had not known that the Blade Breaker employed such a reliable tactician under his command, although not many people can say they know much regarding the happenings of Sir Jeralt anyways. I suppose your presence means we will be returning to the monastery now?"

"Correct you are! The bandits have been dealt with, so our job here is done. I guess you can say that your combined efforts really SNATCHED the wind right from under their sails, huh?"

The man was met with silence.

"Heh, get it? Because they're thieves, and they snatch stuff…?"

More silence.

"Well then," coughing and turning his head, Alois continued, "uh, yes, we will gather our supplies and return back to Garreg Mach. And you! Sir tactician! Captain Jeralt hadn't told me that he hired a tactician. For you to have led the students to victory without a single scratch on them, you must be quite exemplary! I bet that lady Rhea would love to make your acquaintance. Captain Jeralt, you must come back with us so that we can give your tactician the proper thanks for saving the students."

"You haven't changed a bit, Alois. Just as loud as ever. And enough with the 'captain' stuff, it's just Jeralt now. I don't work under the Knights of Seiros any longer. These days, I'm just a wandering mercenary. And the tactician, while indeed intelligent, does not work under me. I simply found him in one of the houses left for my mercenary company when we happened into Remire. What he wishes to do is up to him, not me. Speaking of things to do, I have work to attend to. Good-bye, old friend."

"Right…Good-bye, Captain…Wait, that isn't how this will end! I insist that you and the tactician accompany the students and I back to the monastery! Lady Rhea would be overjoyed to see you!"

"Garreg Mach Monastery…I suppose this was inevitable. Well kid, are you going to join us?"

"If this Garreg Mach Monastery leads me to one of the imperial roads, then I suppose I will, yes."

"Leads you to one of the imperial roads?!" Alois started, surprised at the response. "Why, it's the central hub for all imperial roads! The church funds road maintenance to each of the three major capital cities, after all. Wherever it is that you need to go, heading to Garreg Mach Monastery would be the perfect starting point! That is pretty standard knowledge, after all."

Huh, looks like Valm has been up to a lot since I've been away. Maybe my time dilation theories were worth looking into while I was trapped in that void. How long has it really been since I defeated Grima? Getting into contact with the archbishop might provide me with some information since they are usually required in being knowledgeable on events such as killing a dragon god of death and destruction.

"Alright then, lead the way."

"Bernie, won't you come out of your room for just five minutes? I understand that everyone likes doses of peace and quiet during the day, but I think this is starting to become an unhealthy habit for you."

"AH! N-n-no, I'm sorry! I didn't do it, and even if I did youcan'tproveitbutthereisnothingforyoutoprovebecauseIdidn'tdoanythinginthefirstplacesoIdon'thaveto-"

"Bernadetta, breathe! I'm sorry if I startled you, but you know that everyone tends to get worried when you don't come out of your room, especially when you don't show up in the dining hall when it's mealtime."

"I know, Dorothea, but you don't have to worry about it. I get my own food every day, promise! I just, don't really like being in big open spaces when there a lot of people in said spaces."

Laying her head against the wall of her room, Morgan, or as she was called here, Bernadetta, sighed as she slumped down to the wall. Two years. She had been searching for two whole years and yet she found neither hide nor hair of her father.

Naga believed that Robin's bonds were, in the end, strong enough to raise him from the dead, but she neglected to mention that he could have been alive in a completely different plane of existence. After many long discussions regarding moving through planes of existence with Naga and questions regarding the Outrealms with the Annas, Morgan calculated the most likely place for Robin to reappear in and traveled to the land of Fódlan.

It was difficult at first to find a cover story for her presence since it seemed that the divided nation did not have as large a grasp on the Outrealms as Ylisse did. Trying to educate people on reality-warping powers when the political climate all but screamed preparation for war would do no favors for anyone. Thankfully, she didn't have to look far before she found her cover.

Unfortunately, it came at the expense of someone else's misfortune. The count of one House Varley under the Adrestian Empire had a deathly ill daughter, eldest and heir to the house. It just so happened to be that Morgan happened across the main house of Varley during the day of the closed memorial service. Apparently, her likeness to the eldest daughter was so uncanny that the house servant which answered her call fainted after taking her into sight.

Morgan was, upon making contact with Count Varley, beset by a crying man spewing nonsense about giving her anything she wanted and never pressing her to be something she wasn't, being blessed with the opportunity to raise his Bernie-bear one more time, reborn. It was…jarring, to say the least, but thanks to her quick thinking Morgan found herself with the perfect opportunity to broaden her search horizons to find her father. Playing to the role, Morgan took up the mantle of Bernadetta von Varley, heiress to House Varley.

The count was a pleasant man, though it seemed he more attempted to atone for past mistakes he made with his daughter rather than having always possessing kindness in his soul, and the house servants were nice, although overbearing at times. But none of them could fill the hole that she gained when her father left her world. Over time, Morgan lost her bubbly nature, instead replaced with feelings of hopelessness and depression. Her first attempts to search for her father only made her realize that Fódlan was a much larger continent than she realized, and being affiliated with a major house in one of three fractioned kingdoms limited her ability to freely search without causing a major political problem. In more ways than she realized, Morgan continued to adopt the nature of the deceased Bernadetta von Varley every day, finding that only solitude could reliably keep her secrets when others would call her insane.

When the senior Varley offered her a chance to learn at the officer's academy in the major hub that was Garreg Mach Monastery, Morgan leaped at the chance, hoping that the ties the Church of Seiros had in each kingdom would allow her to expand her search, and at first, it did. But the limits of always being accompanied by an order of knights or other members of the Adrestian Empire made it almost impossible for her to freely venture the country. The house members were great people, and they worked together seamlessly but watching them work as they did only brought back harsh memories of the life she had lived beforehand.

Now, sitting in her room, locked away from the rest of the world, Morgan could let the pain that she held in every day slowly unravel itself as tears silently fell from her face. Each of the three houses, when considered all together, was like watching the antics of the Shepherds all over again, but this time, they would more than likely end up attempting to kill one another. Each house had its own Chrom, a central figure to lead them, but they didn't have a Robin, someone who bound them all together like a family.

And as she watched the sun lazily rise against the windowpane in her room, Morgan could only find it in herself to ask, as she did every morning,

"Daddy, when will you come back to me?"