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Epilogue

To the Future We Hold

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Morgan peered over the edge of her book at the two sitting across the room, a chessboard between them. She sensed the tension: any move made by either side could turn the tide of the game. It was unusual, though, seeing as one of the two was a budding tactician.

Said tactician made a move and smiled.

"Checkmate," she said.

The princess' eyes widened, studying the board. "What? I though I…agh!"

"If you had moved your bishop instead of your knight, you might have stood a chance, Lucy."

"I knew I shouldn't have asked you to play chess," Lucy complained. "You tacticians don't play fair."

Morgan grinned, watching Lucy slump in her seat, pouting. Mor gave an identical grin. "We do," the twelve-year-old stated. "We just have good strategy."

"Strategy-schmategy."

"I could let you borrow some of my tactics books."

Morgan laughed. "Father gave mother the same offer," she said, catching the attention of the two girls. "She could barely keep up with the all the strategies as it was."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Lucy stated blandly. "I should like to think I'm different. We've already decided that the younger versions are different from the older ones."

"Touche," Mor said. "Anyway, Lucy, rematch?"

"Only if you go easy on me."

"I will make no such promise." Lucy glared, her branded gaze making the thirteen-year-old seem much more serious than the situation called for. "Fine, fine! Gosh, no need for the death glare."

Satisfied, Lucy started setting up her side of the board. Mor did the same. Just as they began a new game, a young boy sped into the room, taking refuge in Morgan's long cloak. "They're gonna find you," Mor told him, moving one of her chess pieces.

"Really?" he asked, poking his head out from under Morgan's arm, his mauve-colored hair standing on end.

"Yup."

The boy left Morgan's side and hurried to the other unoccupied couch in the room, taking refuge under the furniture. There was silence for only a moment until another young child entered the room, rubbing her eyes. "Mama? I can't sleep." Morgan put her book down and scooped her four-year-old into her lap.

"Well, Maggie, let's wait and see Mark get caught."

There was an indignant huff from the couch, followed by a sneeze.

"Bit dusty under there?" Mor asked.

"Shh!"

Morgan and Mor laughed. Silence filled the room, interrupted only by Lucy's grumbles as she tried in vain to win, or at least lose with some dignity. A few minutes later, Nykolai entered the room. "Where is that boy?"

Everyone, even Maggie, pointed to the couch, and Nykolai nodded. He moved carefully over to the piece of furniture, peering under it. He frowned and looked behind the couch, only to see his son scurry from underneath it. Mark ran away from his father, but only made it to the door. Lucina stepped out in front of him, scooping him up. "Caught you, Mark! Time for bed."

"No, Mommy!"

"Yes, Mark."

Nykolai joined them, grinning. "Those were some sound tactics there, Mark."

"I switched places as soon as you stopped looking under the couch."

"Impressive," Mor said.

"Thanks, sis!" The five-year-old beamed.

"Anyway, bedtime, Mor," Nykolai said, turning to his younger daughter. She slumped in her seat.

"Daaad!"

"Now, Morgana. You can finish your game tomorrow."

Mor sighed. "But Lucy-"

"Also has to go to bed," Sumia said, appearing behind Lucina's shoulder. Lucy sighed and stood, muttering something about not wanting to lose the game anyway.

Mor, having no opponent, gave up as well. The girls, followed by Lucina, Mark, and Sumia, left the room. Nykolai turned to his eldest and the little girl in her arms. "What's up, Maggie?"

"Can't sleep," the girl replied.

Morgan brushed her daughter's dark bangs from her face as Nykolai came closer. "We're just going to sit here in the quiet for a while," Morgan said softly.

"Alright. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Father."

Maggie hugged Nykolai. "Night, Grandpa."

Morgan flashed her father a smile, and Nykolai left the room. The tactician held her daughter close, humming a soft tune. It had been a big decision to have a child; she didn't want to pass on her somewhat awakened fell blood. But in the end, Maggie was one of the best things to happen to her. The little girl was so full of life, and very clever. She brought joy to each day.

They sat together for a while, and slowly Maggie drifted off, just as her father entered the room. "There you are," Inigo said, sitting next to his wife. Maggie stirred sleepily at his voice. Morgan smiled at her husband, kissing him briefly.

"I think it's time for bed."

"I would say so." They stood, Maggie shifting in her mother's arms. Inigo blew out the candles that had kept the room lit and together with his wife and daughter left.

Once Maggie was in bed, Inigo took Morgan's hand as they walked down the hall to their own room. "You're not wearing your glove today."

Morgan glanced at her hand. Grima's brand was still present, faded behind the Brand of the Exalt. Normally she wore a fingerless glove over that hand to hide the marks. But she had taken it off that morning and hadn't put it back on. "You know…I don't really mind that. It's not like Grima's gonna come back any time soon, if at all."

Inigo grinned. "There's my girl." They entered their room and shut the door, reveling in the peace.

For Ylisse had been in an era of peace for almost six years, and it looked like it was going to stay that way.

Author's note: It's done! Yay! Edits made to the chapter: streamlined it a bit, but mostly switched the perspective from Mor to Morgan.

I really hope that this second time around was much better. I felt that it improved greatly, and I have heard promising remarks about this revised story from a reviewer of Outtakes.

So in that light, I bid you farewell, and I hope, as well, that you come by to check out my other stuff!

Originally published 1/14/2014, edited 5/7/2014