Chapter Text
Rae'lia raised her arm, flame collecting in the palm of her hand. There was a sharp yell from beside her, and a swordsman ran forwards, blade at the ready, glinting in the lowlight.
His attack was blocked by a wall of blue flame, and he rolled to the side, Rae'lia tracking the movement as she focused her bolganone spell.
Their foe held a ball of dark magic above his head, energy crackling through the air and making the hair on the back of Rae'lia’s neck stand on end. The swordsman threw himself to the side to dodge, before launching into a counterattack.
He met with empty air, stumbling for a brief moment as his momentum carried him. He regained his balance quickly, head darting from side to side as he searched for their foe.
“Up there!” he shouted, and Rae'lia tracked his point to a few feet above their heads, where the sorcerer was already forming a second ball of energy. Rae'lia shifted her centre of gravity, ready to dodge.
The telltale crackling stopped, before a beam shot out, carving a path towards Rae'lia and the swordsman. The sheer power of the beam forced them back, and Rae'lia shot out her spell in a last-ditch effort to take out their foe.
The smoke covering the battlefield cleared to reveal that she had only hit the air, the sorcerer having disappeared once more.
“Fools!” a voice shouted, echoing all around, impossible to pin down. The swordsman made his way to Rae'lia’s side, taking a back-to-back defensive stance with her.
It was silent for a moment, both of them scanning the battlefield. Rae'lia felt the man stiffen behind her, only a second before a ball of darkness hit the tip of his sword. It cleaved the spell in two, the bolt passing either side of the pair and ricocheting into the ground, creating small craters in its wake.
The air around Rae'lia buzzed from the energy, and she squinted in the dimness around them, trying to pin down the location of their foe. She doubted he would be in the direction the spell had come from – no, he was too smart for that.
Before she could process her thoughts, get a read on their opponent, another beam shot towards them from an entirely different angle. Rae'lia dodged, but the swordsman wasn’t fast enough, the spell clipping his shoulder. He stumbled with a grunt, only for another bolt to hit him in the chest and send him flying backwards. He disappeared into the plume of dust that had been thrown up, but Rae'lia didn’t move to help him – a hit like that was hardly enough to kill him.
All at once, the dust cleared, as if it were pulled away in a vacuum. The swordsman came back into view, leaning heavily on his sword as he tried to stand, their foe once more charging a spell above his head. Rae'lia narrowed her gaze, watching the sorcerer. His eyes darted between her and the swordsman, trying to decide who to aim for – Rae'lia may have been closer, but the man was still not yet steady on his feet, and Rae'lia pulled her tome to her chest, drawing upon her magic.
Her intuition was right – the sorcerer’s eyes fixated on the man an instant before his spell reached maximum size.
“Die!”
The beam of darkness shot forwards, and Rae'lia extended her arm, flames erupting from her palm.
The magics collided, explosion bursting between the two counteraction forces. The power pushed all three combatants backwards through the air, leaving them all half-piled in the destruction surrounding them.
Rae'lia grunted as she pushed herself up from the ground, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand. Her glove came back smeared with blood, cut stinging as dirt got into the open wound. She didn’t hesitate in scrambling on her hands and knees, searching for her tome in the rubble. The lull in battle was unnerving, a warning of worse, and she had to find her tome, had to–
A chuckle reached her ears and she paused, fingers inches away from the book. She slowly turned to look over her shoulder, hand closing over the spine of her tome as she did so, getting her first proper look at her foe the whole battle.
He was dark and thin, tall with limbs seemingly too stretched and pointed to be human. His fingernails were long, claw-like, sharp enough they looked like they could almost cut through the air itself. He was dressed in dark purples and blacks, and the golden jewellery adorning his arms and neck seemed to only exaggerated his sharpness.
His eyes were bright and hawkish, amber and alight with some unidentifiable emotion. Rae'lia held back a shiver, tightening her grip on her tome, and the sorcerer responded with a tight-lipped smile, eyes narrowing.
Controlled, the word was, for the emotion he displayed. Rae'lia fought against the fear that lanced through her at the realisation.
The swordsman finally made his way to Rae'lia’s side, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet. “This is it,” he said with a tired grin, chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, “our final battle.”
Rae'lia had no memory of any battles before this one, but she found herself nodding. “It’s been an honour fighting with you.”
That made the man laugh, the sound bursting out of him, strong and genuine. “Why so formal, Rae?” he said, nudging his arm against hers, “has all this destiny talk been making you think?”
He said destiny like it was something they had discussed before. That got a laugh out of her, the sound carried on a breath.
“I doubt something as simple as destiny can influence our actions here today,” she replied smoothly.
The smile he gave her was soft – fond, even, and she responded in kind. “That’s my Rae,” he said, “our Rae. Just remember – you’re a Shepherd, no matter what.”
Rae'lia found herself caught on the word Shepherd, and the meaning clearly hidden within it. It resonated to her very core, describing the emotion she was feeling right now at this man’s side, something no other word could possibly describe so closely.
The sorcerer still hadn’t moved, watching the two of them in silence, waiting for them to make the first move. The swordsman followed Rae'lia’s gaze to him, before he nodded, readjusting his grip on his sword. The metal glinted in the dull light, and he sent a sharp grin her way, though his eyes were filled with fondness.
“Now,” he said, “let’s kill this bastard and be done with it.”
Rae'lia nodded, tucking her tome back into her cloak and drawing out her own sword. She examined it for a moment, intrigued by the runes carved along the blade, giving a soft orange glow. She was unable to decipher what they said, but the man by his side gave a nod.
“I’m not sure why he gave you that,” he said, “but he insisted you take it for this one battle.”
Who? Rae'lia couldn’t place a name on he. But then again, she couldn’t place a name on the face before her either. Instead, she looked back to their opponent.
“We have to get closer,” Rae'lia said, “we have an opening, but I’m not sure how long he will let us have it.”
“He’s waiting for us to make the first move.”
“Though I highly doubt he will give us a second.”
“On my mark, then?” the swordsman breathed out, lowering himself into a battle stance. Rae'lia did the same thing with an affirmative, and they took off at the same time, flanking the sorcerer from either side.
“Now!”
On instinct, Rae'lia launched into an attack in perfect synchronisation with the swordsman, something that could only have been perfected through years of practice.
A split-second before her attack landed, she faltered. Not enough to avoid slashing across her foe’s chest with her blade, but enough to notice his lack of attempt at blocking it.
He made no indication that he had felt the pain Rae'lia’s sword had caused, even as he bled crimson.
He let out a laugh, high and cold. “Fools,” he mocked, and Rae'lia stumbled back slightly at the realisation that he had let her blow land. “Struggle all you want! You cannot erase what is already writt–ngh!”
The laugh turned into a rattling gurgle, and Rae'lia shuddered at the noise. He coughed once, and blood trickled down his chin, eyes blown wide. Slowly, he lowered his chin, staring down at the glowing blade piercing his chest from behind.
The swordsman withdrew his blade, splattering more blood on the broken tiles at their feet. “No,” he said clearly, staring right at Rae'lia over the sorcerer’s shoulder, “we can’t erase it.”
A cold rage filled Rae'lia, then, and she stared up at their foe’s face, his breath rattling in his lungs. She thrust her own sword into his chest with a sense of finality.
“But we can rewrite our own path,” she completed, twisting the blade.
The light faded from his eyes, and Rae'lia let the body slide off her sword to crumple to the ground in an ungraceful heap.
The swordsman made a noise, nudging at the body with his boot. “You seemed to have enjoyed that,” he noted lightly, skirting around to her side. Rae'lia let out a weary sigh.
“Perhaps more than I should have…” she replied, tugging out a cloth to wipe her blade clean.
But they had won.
She held the cloth out to the man, and he gave her an amused look, sliding his still-clean blade into its sheath. “Let’s go.”
Rae'lia was more than happy to turn away from the corpse, ignoring the dread building in her gut. Dark magic was still thick in the air, and she fought against her instincts screaming at her.
The man walked shoulder to shoulder with her, back straight and head held high.
“This isn’t over!”
Rae'lia stole a panicked glance backwards, only to be greeted by the sight of the corpse, not having moved an inch from where it fell.
“Something wrong?” The swordsman peered down at Rae'lia, worry etched into his expression.
“I thought I heard…” she trailed off, shaking her head, “nothing. I’m tired, that’s all.”
He let out a soft chuckle, setting a hand on her shoulder and giving a light squeeze. “I feel the same,” he said, “come on, let’s join up with the rest of the Shepherds.”
There was that word again. Rae'lia absently nodded, but pulled out her tome all the same, still feeling on edge.
“Damn you both!” As if to prove her right, the body rose to its knees, and Rae'lia let out a cry. The swordsman, facing her, hadn’t noticed the movement behind him, and faltered at her reaction.
A dark bolt of magic flew at the man, and Rae'lia didn’t even realise she had reacted until he was pushed out of the way, only possible from catching the man bigger than her off guard. She tried to move out of the line of fire as well, tried to call upon her magic; but it was already too late, the bolt slamming into her chest.
Black.
“–ia? Rae? Hey, c’mon Rae, listen to me!”
Rae'lia groaned, forcing herself to open her eye, only to be greeted by the swordsman’s face hovering above hers, the ceiling a haze behind his head.
“Rae! Oh, thank the gods!” he cried, pulling her into a tight embrace.
Rae'lia let out another soft groan, and he pulled back. “Ah–!” he helped her sit up on her own, “are you okay?”
“Y-y–” she stopped, taking a deep breath through her nose. Everything ached. “Yeah,” she managed finally, evening out her breaths. Her voice was weak, but her response was enough to satisfy the man.
“I don’t know what I would have done if…” he left the end of his sentence unfinished, waiting for Rae'lia to steady herself, resting heavily against his side. Then, he waved his hand, as if dismissing the thought. “No matter, you’re alive. Let’s get Lissa to heal you up, hm?”
Who?
“Well then, that’s the end of him,” the man eventually said, nodding over to where the corpse had sat. Only tendrils of dark magic remained, slowly dissipating into the air without a host to harness it. “Thanks to you, we carried the day.”
Rae'lia didn’t remember defeating their opponent for the second time. She could hardly remember the first through her haze of pain. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire, but she was covered in a cold sweat.
The man helped Rae'lia to her feet, steadying her through the winces. He fished her tome up off the ground, passing it to her. Hands shaking, she tucked it back away, fumbling with the clasp as she set it back on her belt.
It was quiet. Rae'lia finished securing her tome, looking up to the swordsman and giving him a nod when she was done. Or at least, she tried, wincing as the movement sent pain lancing through her skull. The man let an arm hover by her as she swayed, ready to catch her if need be.
“We can rest easy now…” his voice was gentle, coaxing her to continue walking, “at long last.”
Rae'lia was nearly knocked down again by another wave of pain, fighting for her breath as she bent nearly double. The man peered down at her in worry, brushing some hair from her sweat-slick brow, hand lingering against her temple. “Hey,” he said softly, holding her weight easily against his own, “what’s wrong?”
Her vision blurred, and she reached up to grip onto his hand for support. Sound distorted around her, and she could hear her heart beating in her ears, the blood rushing through her body.
“–ae,” he pressed his forehead to hers, grounding her. Her vision cleared slightly, and she stared up at him through a wash of red.
“I’m here,” Rae'lia got out, words shaky.
“Good. Don’t give up on me just yet.”
Another burst of pain shot through Rae'lia, and her legs gave out momentarily. The man caught her, making sure she found her footing again, hands still gripping onto her shoulders.
Yet another wave, and she clenched her eye shut, a hiss of pain making it out between her teeth.
The man’s grip on her shoulders tightened. “Hey– hang on– ngh!” his words cut off abruptly, in much the same fashion as the sorcerer’s had. Rae'lia’s senses cleared.
There was a sharp pull to Rae'lia’s neck as the swordsman stumbled away, clutching at his side. Blood was already staining his fingers scarlet, and Rae'lia choked on a gasp, whipping her head from side to side to try and catch sight of any hidden enemies.
None.
Just a dagger in Rae'lia’s own hand, blood slowly dripping to the ground.
“This– is not–” the man groaned, nearly losing his footing, “y-your fault.”
She flung the dagger away from herself, holding her hand away from her body in disgust. Hot tears burned in her eye already, but she made no move to wipe at them. “No. No, no, no! You– you can’t– you–”
He smiled a little, before wincing instead. “Rae. I d–” he hissed a breath out, “don’t blame you for this.”
“Wh– why wouldn’t you?”
“Promise me, o-okay? That you–”
“I’m not promising anything!” Rae'lia snapped, before letting out a quiet sob.
“Just once,” he said with a chuckle, the action sounding like it was tearing him in two. He broke off into a fit of coughing. “Promise me yo–you’ll make it out of here.”
He fell to his knees, Rae'lia following suit as sobs overtook her body. “I– I– I c-can-can’t–” she couldn’t get the rest of her words out. Not without you.
“Please…” he winced, swaying the tiniest amount. He mouthed another word, but no sound made it out past his lips. Regardless, Rae'lia knew what he was trying to say.
Go.
The light left his eyes, and he fell, a weak smile still on his pained face.
“No–!” Rae'lia let out a broken scream, scrambling to the man’s side. She rolled him over onto his back, pawing at the wound in his side, “No, no, no no no no no! No!”
Her fingers came back scarlet, and a dark laugh echoed around her, bouncing off the high walls. She tangled her fingers in her hair, covering her ears and trying to block out the noise to no avail.
The laughter rose in volume, and a sharp pain lanced through her sword hand, the hand that she had held the dagger in, the hand she had stabbed Chrom with–
Chrom.
His name was Chrom.
“No!” Rae'lia screamed again, curling in on herself.
It didn’t stop, the laughter dragging her deeper into the darkness with every passing second, on and on with no reprieve, a never-ending punishment for the unforgivable crime she had committed.
And yet Chrom had forgiven her. He had let those words ride out on his final breaths, and Rae'lia hated it.
Because it wasn’t the sorcerer’s laugh, high and cold and mocking. It wasn’t Chrom’s, warm and genuine, even in the face of evil.
It was her own.
The darkness continued to seep in, consuming everything around her aside from the throbbing pain in the back of her sword hand.
Piece by piece, her memories faded away, and she desperately tried to hold on. It was like catching smoke. Like fire, ever hungering for more. It took her vision, her hearing, her very essence.
Chrom, she thought, Chrom, Chrom, Chrom. She no longer knew what it meant, only it was important, and she wasn’t going to let the fire consume it too.
Rae'lia forgot who she was, piece by piece by piece by piece by piece.
She became nothing, and the nothing gave way to darkness.
And yet in the darkness, there was a tiny spark of light; so pale that if one wasn’t looking hard enough, it could be easily missed.
In the darkness, this spark of light became the only thing to have a name.
Hope.