Chapter Eighteen: The Paradox Girl

The voyage back to Ylisse proved a great deal more enjoyable than the previous crossing had been. I'd already become accustomed to sea travel, though I still felt a little off when the waves became rough. I didn't forget that we still had to deal with Validar and the Grimleal once we reached the other side, but neither did I dwell on it excessively as I might have in the past.

At last, my comrades and I had been reunited. Those who hadn't already joined up with us during the Valm campaign had banded together and were waiting for us in the harbor. It seemed they'd had some rather interesting adventures of their own; every one of us had a different story to tell. Yarne, Brady, Nah, Owain, and Inigo – I was overjoyed that all of them were alive and here with me now. Nothing had gone according to plan, but we were together again and the decisive moment approached. We were ready, and we would succeed.

I never thought about Grima or our world for very long these days, as I found myself... otherwise occupied. I wouldn't say that I spent all of my time with Destin, but it wasn't far off. The suddenness of having a bond that strong, of having someone I loved who loved me in return, sometimes took my breath away. All of this was a new experience for me, and I delighted in every moment.

I'd actually been a little worried that Destin wouldn't want to teach me now that we'd admitted our feelings to each other. Of course, that turned out to be utterly silly of me. He wasn't that kind of person at all, and I knew it. Our lessons, while still informative, also provided us an excuse to be alone together. We'd relaxed decorum considerably, and most of the teaching was done with one of us leaning on the other. Still, he went on with considerable zeal.

"I never expected you to try to teach me everything you knew," I'd said during one such night at sea. "Sometimes it seems like you're trying to make me a tactician."

"Perhaps I am," he'd replied. "Someone should know how to do all of this. I don't intend to die, but it's always a possibility."

I had already prevented that once, maybe several times. But there were always more chances in the fog of war; if my failure with Emmeryn had taught me anything, it was to never let my guard down when changing the future. Someone who survived a battle in which they were supposed to die could perish just as easily in the next, or else survive the war only to fall to an assassin's blade. More than ever, I couldn't allow Destin to die. For the future, and for me as well.

It was in the midst of the voyage back to Ylisse that I found myself resting on the deck of the Liberty with Destin. My father was standing by the mast, his hair and cape rustling in the gentle breeze, a faraway look in his eyes. Our comrades were all around us, lounging about the ship however they pleased. The sun shone brightly overhead, bathing us all in its warmth.

We'd both been watching my father stare at nothing for awhile when Destin gave my hand a soft squeeze, then stood up and walked over to him. I remained where I was, content to listen.

"You look like you're thinking about something too hard," Destin said. "That's supposed to be my job."

"It's funny, when you think about it," Chrom said to him, though his words reached through the calm air to my ears. "So much has changed since we found you in the field that day. Doesn't seem like long ago, does it? Now you determine the fate of our army, of our people. Destiny has a strange way."

"No," Destin replied. "This path we walk isn't destiny. 'Destiny' is your death and Grima's resurrection. We're more than just pawns to some scripted fate. Lucina and the others coming back in time was the first change, and we've made others since then. Together, we'll forge an entirely new future."

"Is that not fate, in its own way?"

The tactician shook his head. "We're all connected by something. Invisible strings that tie us together, that make us stronger. We choose those bonds, and we choose to preserve or break them. We decide, not fate."

"I hope you're right," my father said. He turned with a wry grin on his face. "Although I think this salty air might've gone to your head."

Destin grimaced. "I'm not usually one for philosophy, I suppose. Still, it's our actions that determine what destiny is, not the other way around. And if we have to, we'll break destiny in half in order to save this world. Try to remember that."

Then he walked over and resettled himself next to me. I smiled gratefully at him. The others around us all seemed to have had their spirits similarly lifted; that was exactly what they'd needed to hear. The idea of the strength of our bonds triumphing over the supposed future appealed to me as well, for obvious reasons.

I'd heard that some of the other Shepherds of my father's generation had been troubled over the subject of their future children. Because those children came back in time and already existed here, they felt as though those relationships were predetermined. Being one of those children myself, I wouldn't have known what to say to help them. I had a feeling that what Destin had said to Chrom would be repeated many times that night. They all wanted to think that it was their decisions that mattered, not what had already happened once.

We passed the remainder of our time at sea peacefully, for the most part. I was grateful to finally step onto dry land again. The mostly rebuilt Ferox harbor was a welcome sight, the people eager to tend to our needs. While the army was resting and resupplying, its leaders had to decide our next course of action.

"Really, though, we still have no idea where Sable is," Chrom said. "I suppose we should head back to Ylisse to see if Frederick's found any clues."

"Actually, a thought had occurred to me," Flavia said. "There's an old temple a little ways north of here the locals call the Ruins of Time. Rumors started awhile back that it held some kind of treasure that was connected to Naga. I never paid them much mind, but when I started thinking about where we might find a Gemstone that was the first thing that I remembered."

"A treasure connected to Naga... and you think it might be Sable?" Chrom asked.

The East Khan shrugged. "I don't know, but it seems as good a place as any to look for it. Plus it's nearby."

"If it were just a ruin with treasure, I'm sure someone would've taken it already," Destin pointed out. "I'm guessing it must be dangerous."

"Risen supposedly lurk within. They've managed to scare off any treasure hunters so far, but we shouldn't have any difficulty."

My father turned to look at Destin. "What do you think?"

"I think it's a good idea," he replied. "Even if Sable doesn't turn out to be there, we might find some clue of its location. It'll be good practice too; it's important that we keep ourselves ready. Better to be actively searching for the Gemstone than sitting back in Ylisse waiting for it to come to us."

"I guess that's settled then. We'll head for the Ruins of Time right away."

It was only a short journey there, and uneventful. Only the Shepherds were here now, Flavia and the rest of the Ylissean League's army staying behind. We might've missed the site if not for the East Khan's directions, as the actual temple was underground.

The temperature dropped as we descended the stairs into the ruins below. The interior was illuminated by an azure glow, and an odd sort of chill permeated the entire area. It was an inconvenience for me, but nothing more. Some of my comrades who wore less than I did were surely displeased. I supposed, if nothing else this chill would inspire them to finish our business here quickly so we could leave.

Groups of us separated from the rest and headed off down the winding pathways according to Destin's orders. The Shepherds he sent further ahead were those who had been forced to leave the battle at Valm castle before it was finished; they would feel as though they'd failed, he explained to me, even though they'd done their best and we'd been victorious in the end. This was a chance for them to redeem themselves in their own eyes.

I hadn't noticed it myself, but once he pointed it out it was all too obvious. The tactician didn't just issue orders, he kept an eye on the moods and issues of every one of us. I wondered where he found the time; it was no surprise that he appeared permanently tired.

Since we'd all been there to the end, my father, Destin, and I were with the group bringing up the rear. We probably wouldn't be fighting any Risen today, but that was fine with me. I might still be young, but I'd already fought enough undead for one lifetime.

"I wonder if this really was a temple dedicated to Naga?" Destin wondered aloud.

"I think so," I said. "I've been to the shrine on Mount Prism before, and this place gives me the same feeling it did."

"The name strikes me as being a little odd," my father put in. "Ruins of Time... but Lucina, you said you went through the Rift at Mount Prism. So what could be here that's related to time?"

Further conversation was cut off by the sounds of battle emanating from a side passage. A female voice shouted "Checkmate!" followed by the crackling of a lightning spell. I exchanged a glance with Destin. That voice hadn't sounded like anyone I knew. We set off in the direction the noise was coming from, finding a broad platform with thinner walkways stretching out from it.

In the center of the platform was a girl I didn't know, wearing a black coat. Several Risen were already falling to dust before us, but two more advanced on her. Destin raised his hand, shooting a jet of fire past her that engulfed one of the Risen. She cast another lightning spell, blasting the final attacker into ash, then turned to face us.

My first thought looking at the girl was that I had another sister nobody had told me about. Her short, messy hair was the same shade of blue that I, Cynthia, and my father all shared. She looked like she was a few years younger than me, and her expression was that of someone who was completely lost. In that moment, my heart went out to her.

The moment she saw Destin her eyes lit up. Her entire face transformed instantly into relieved joy, the emotions so raw it almost hurt to look at. But as she ran towards him, she shouted "Father!" happily, and the rest of my thoughts flew straight out of my head.

"What...?" Destin muttered flatly. I don't think I'd ever seen him look so taken aback before. The girl hit him in some strange halfway point between a tackle and a hug, knocking him on the floor.

I couldn't make any sense of it myself. Given her age, the only way she could possibly be Destin's daughter was if she'd gone back in time. But I'd never seen her before. Was this some kind of strange trick? The love that shone through her expression seemed genuine.

"Slow down," Chrom advised her. "Why don't you explain yourself?"

"Umm..." The girl ducked her head, suddenly hesitant. "My name's, uh, Morgan. He's my father. I had to go find him, that's why I'm here. That's... all I remember."

My father chuckled. "That sounds familiar. You know, if I keep bringing back amnesiac strays every time I go somewhere I'm going to end up confined to the capital." He looked over at me for confirmation, but I shook my head. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't give anything away.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'd always known that we could never last. That I didn't belong in this world, while Destin did. Eventually, he would find someone else to spend his life with. The happiness we'd shared, however brief, was something I'd allowed myself knowing that it would end. It still hurt to be reminded of all of that.

I wondered just who Morgan's mother would be. She didn't bear much resemblance to any of the other women in the Shepherds, but then children often didn't inherit their parents' looks. Perhaps it would be someone else, someone I hadn't met yet, a woman who had no connection to this conflict.

While Destin was trying to make some sense of her story, I examined her more closely. Oddly enough, her hands were wrapped up in cloth, leaving only the fingers exposed. She'd clearly taken a few wounds fighting the Risen. But as I watched her interact with her 'father', something else became obvious.

I could see it in the frayed, patchwork coat she was wearing. It was clearly a poorly stitched copy of the one Destin used to wear, Grimleal symbols and all imperfectly reproduced. I could see it in the way she held herself, consciously mimicking how he stood. But most of all I saw it in her face, her expression changing to excited admiration every time she looked at him. Morgan hero worshipped Destin; she wanted to be just like him in every way.

A complicated feeling welled within me. I didn't like it, but was I really that different? Perhaps I hadn't wanted to be exactly like my father, but I had wanted to be a leader like him. I wielded Falchion as he did, and I greatly admired and relied on his many strengths. I should be able to sympathize with this girl, but I found it hard.

Why? It wasn't because this girl's existence reminded me that he would love someone else, was it? Was I that petty?

Although Destin had been shocked by the sudden appearance of this girl who claimed to be his daughter, he seemed to adjust rather quickly. I can only guess that he was still rather confused, but he adopted a soothing manner that calmed Morgan down considerably. After just a few minutes, she was following him around like a well-trained puppy.

Reports of hostile encounters tailed off as we moved further into the ruins. It seemed most of the Risen had already been eliminated. It was unfortunate, as I would've welcomed the chance to take my frustration out on something right then. Instead I was stuck following further behind, furiously tying my feelings into knots over things I couldn't help.

More of the groups that had been sent out returned, guiding us to where the treasure was. Morgan got a few strange looks, though most apparently assumed that she was another of those who had followed me through the Rift and accepted it quickly enough. It was a useful fiction, since the truth was beyond my comprehension. At last, we arrived at a broad platform where the Risen had been gathered. An altar of some kind rose in the center of it.

Daylight shone through a crack in the ceiling, bathing the pedestal in radiance. A roundish object lay on top, and for a moment I thought we might've actually found Sable. But on closer inspection, the item was a pale cream color and shaped like a tear drop. I could still feel something from it, but it was clear that this wasn't the Gemstone.

"Well, I didn't really expect it to be that easy anyways," my father said as he strode forward and picked up the object. "Do you have any idea what this is, Lady Tiki?"

The Voice took it reverently from Chrom's hands. "Ah, I believe this is one of Naga's own tears," she said. "A tiny fraction of the Divine Dragon's power lies within. Using it would increase your abilities substantially, but only for a short period of time."

"I'm sure we can find a use for that," Chrom replied. "We'll take it with us. Is there anything else?"

"No, I think we're done here," Destin said. "It was worth a try, but we'll have to keep looking."

"Who knows, maybe Frederick's found it already," Chrom chuckled. "Old, reliable Frederick. He'll be waiting in Ylisse, wondering where we are. Right, let's go."

I was still in the same position as we left, staring at Morgan and wondering why I felt these strange sensations. I knew I couldn't trust my own intuition on the matter, since my feelings had compromised my judgement. But nothing this girl said made any sense. She didn't seem to be lying, but I don't know that I would've been able to notice a deception. I had many questions, but no answers.

Outside the ruins, Destin was fussing over the minor wounds Morgan had taken fighting the Risen before we'd found her. She kept insisting that she was fine, but there he was unravelling the wraps that covered her right hand, which were now dyed red by blood. I smiled despite myself; watching him try to be a father for a daughter he hadn't known existed until today was enjoyable in its own right. I could see more than a little of Chrom in his manner. Not knowing how, he mimicked the only person he knew that did.

My amusement lasted until he'd gotten the last of the wrappings off, leaving Morgan's right hand exposed. A bloody cut marred it below the wrist, but what made both Destin and I gasp was the vivid mark that lay above it. It was the same mark I saw in my own eye every time I looked in a mirror, the same mark that adorned my father's shoulder. The Brand of the Exalt.

How was that possible? The Brand only appeared on those born into the bloodline of the First Exalt, and not all who shared that blood possessed it. Lissa never had despite being undisputedly Chrom and Emmeryn's sister. There was no way this girl could be of our family. Was there?

All at once the information we'd learned about this girl cascaded through my mind, forming realization. She was Destin's daughter; she had blue hair; she had the Brand of the Exalt. Naga help me, this girl was my daughter. Our daughter.

Yet, that was impossible. I'd never met Destin in my own time, and though we might love each other here in this world we certainly hadn't had any children. But when I thought about it, her face even bore some resemblance to my own. I was the only woman alive who could've borne such a child, even if I obviously hadn't. What did this all mean?

"Is she okay, father?" I heard Morgan ask. I had stopped paying attention to the conversation, distressed as I was.

"She probably isn't feeling well," Destin said. "Please excuse us for a minute." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and started walking. I automatically let him steer me, and it wasn't until a few moments later that I noticed we'd gone back into the ruins a short way.

Destin turned to face me, a concerned expression on his face. "Are you alright?"

I nodded weakly. "I'm sorry for freaking out like that. But I... that girl..."

"I know," the raven haired tactician replied with a soft sigh. "She's our daughter."

I hugged myself tightly, and not entirely because of the chill inside the ruins. Was this some strange side effect of my comrades and I going through the Rift? Had our journey through time messed things up this badly?

"The only explanation I can think of is that she's from another time. Not yours, obviously, but if the means to travel back in time exists in one world then it easily could in another. There are already two separate worlds that we know of, so why not three or four? Or even more than that..." He shook his head in dismay. "I'm getting a headache just thinking about it."

I mulled that over in my mind. The idea that many different worlds could exist, and that they could influence each other through the Rift, was a frightening one. If people from other worlds continued to be moved into worlds that weren't theirs, who knows what damage could be done?

We still didn't know why Morgan had gone through the Rift in the first place, and with her memory gone she wouldn't be able to tell us. Was some terrible doom that surpassed even Grima to descend on us in another twenty years? Or had her journey to our world been an accident? She said she needed to find Destin, but why?

"So... what do you want to do? About Morgan, I mean," Destin said. "This situation is really bizarre. If you don't want her to know that you're her mother, I think we can probably hide it."

"No," I replied immediately, turning back to face him. I hoped I looked a lot more determined than I felt. "If she's my daughter from any world, then it's my responsibility to take care of her. Everyone... deserves to have two parents, even if they aren't the ones that gave birth to you."

He nodded in agreement. We were living proof that people could turn out fine even without a mother and father, but everyone should have that chance. I wouldn't leave Morgan to forever wonder, to struggle through life never remembering what a mother's love was like. I would take care of her. My resolve grew the more I thought the situation over. I couldn't deny to myself that I'd been vulnerable to the idea of Morgan being Destin's daughter, but now that I knew she was ours... my feelings only strengthened. I wanted to be here, in this position.

Destin seemed to have read my feelings from looking at me. He smiled, then grabbed my hand and began leading me back out. I mentally prepared myself as we walked; the last thing Morgan needed to see was my doubts. The girl looked totally lost, and I winced to see how bewildered her expression was. She needed us, and I wasn't going to let her down.

"Morgan," Destin began when we reached her. "Before we talk about anything else, there's something you should know. This is Lucina, and... well... she's your mother."

"A-are you sure?" Morgan demanded, her eyes brightening. "I'm sorry. I honestly don't remember anything about my mother. But if you say so, then..."

"I do," Destin replied firmly. "There's no doubt in my mind that Lucina was your mother."

I still felt a lingering sense of hesitation, but as Morgan stumbled towards me the piteous expression on her face cut through my doubts. I remembered the night I had first revealed myself to my parents, how much mother's embrace had meant to me. I had the chance to offer that same comfort to this girl – to my own daughter. What reason was there for me to hesitate?

"Mother?" The girl whispered.

I strove to find the kind of gentle smile that Sumia had often worn. "Yes, Morgan. I'm here for you." I knelt down and wrapped my arms around her. She sagged into me, hugging me tightly while tears began leaking out of her eyes. Another broad pair of arms encircled both of us. Destin grinned and winked at me. I flushed, but I still felt so... peaceful.

A part of me had always wanted this, knowing that I could never have it. But here it was, right in front of me. I silently thanked Naga for the Rift, for this chance that brought us together. Here and now, we were... a family.