Chapter Text
In Plegia there lay a small village. Despite its strategically close position to the neighboring kingdom of Ylisse, not many had come to colonize the rural community. Towards it’s outskirts, sat a cottage. It was there that a herbalist called home. She was old, and she was crazy, yet she brewed the concoctions that many throughout not only that town, but others depended upon. As the herbalist aged, it was to no one’s surprise that she took on an apprentice. The woman was young, beautiful, and her hair flowed with a shimmering white. Yet, many failed to notice until the old women died. The village mourned the loss, but her magic lived on. The cottage’s function continued as the young girl now carried on the responsibility.
Many remember the night of chaos. It wasn’t uncommon to see those followers of Grima around the town. However, the day the Grimleal’s high priest arrived the villagers cowered in fear. His followers forced searches and blockaded roads. Many claimed to have been lucky in escaping with their lives. The scouring lasted but a day, then they disappeared and were not seen from again.
The cottage too grew silent.
Abandoned, the land grew unruly. What few villagers still came to check on its inhabitants, soon ceased in their visitations. The animals that could, escaped. The gardens withered, and the plot lay barren. No one touched the space. They feared a curse had been placed upon it.
Those who go against the will of the Grimleal always paid dearly.
In the years that followed, wars once more raged. One day, the skies grew black. Mountains of fire erupted, and the very ground grew unstable with quakes. Hellish ghouls mysteriously appeared and began ravaging the lands. Many ran and many hid. Yet, many decided to accept their demise. Across the scorned earth lay the immense shadow of a fell dragon. His wing beats leveled forests, and his breath expired all in its path. He had awakened as fate had foretold.
Contrary to that fact, the beast did not thrive. For after seven days of fire, he fell from on high. His monstrous figure was a sight to behold. It drifted down swiftly, like arrow-stricken fowl, landing amid the bones of its past. It was there the beast breathed its last.
It was over; it was done. The dragon had been slain and peace restored. All those across the land rejoiced; all except those who had held the dragon close.
Soon the ravages of war drew to an end. Life returned to normal and so did the cottage. The surrounding villagers looked hesitantly to the smoke wafting from the chimney.
Someone had dared to enter?!
After weeks of wonder, the bravest ventured forth. Shivers ran his spine as he knocked at the door. Waiting, he peered at the garden. It was lush; it was green, and its wonderful fragrance sweetened the air. He jumped from his stupor as the door handle clacked. Creaking open, he glimpsed at the being within. She was neither monster nor ghost, but the women of white. She greeted with a smile; the scar at her neck had deemed her incapable of more. Returned from the dead, the village accepted the woman once more. It was there, in that town, that she rested the remainder of her days.
Ari often worked amid a swirling mind. No matter how many times she calculated and contemplated the circumstances of her survival, she still felt unsatisfied. Why will the gods not let me rest? She struck the flint within her hands and prepared to warm a brew on the newly awakened flame.
How?
Her memories were clouded. Dusky images of her rescuers flashed in fleeting glimmers. They were shouting… calling a healer. Her mind could recall nothing else until she awoke in the liberation army’s rehabilitation ward.
They saved my life, but not my voice.
Ari remembered the horrific feeling of silent screaming. Her thrashes alarmed the nurses and she was quickly attended. She tried desperately to warn of Validar’s scheme. At the time, she had cared not for her surrounding, nor her condition. Attempting to communicate her desperation blinded Ari to all else.
He’s dead.
Her mind still struggled to comprehend what the nurses had said. Despite her inability to ask questions, they could easily guess and spoke accordingly.
Validar is dead. The liberation army killed him. His misdeeds have been stopped.
What she hadn’t been told, was that her son too had perished. However, word of the fell dragon’s defeat spread quickly throughout the encampment. How could it not? Their leader, the newly crowned Exalt, Chrom, had stood atop the beast and slain it. Or so she was told.
Ari’s heart broke.
There was only one-way Grima could have returned. Only… one… way…
That is how she came to know the fate of her maniacal pursuer and their ill-fated son. She had slept through it all. Cradled by the soldiers left to defend and fortify the captured Plegian castle. The moment her body had healed, she walked away from it all. She took no more than the clothes on her back and the coin she had been granted by the army. Her soul was burdened and could bear the sights no more.
In the end it was all for naught. He’s dead. They both are. The land is at peace. You survived, but at what price? You have nothing, no one. Your husband is dead. Your child is dead. Your purpose is dead. You are utterly alone. Is this the burden Moro faced in her final hours? What a terrible fate…
Then, why am I still alive? Why can’t I die?
Ari wandered about in a daze. She endeavored for an answer.
Ylisse? Ari was surprised to find the capital in a somber state. The Exalt had thrown no celebration, nor festival. It was later, she discovered he had even placed an embargo upon the ideas. The justification was the rationing of dwindled supplies. War had taken its toll, and there was no time to be wasted in merrymaking or intoxication. Despite his glorious triumph against evil, the young king remained secluded to his castle. In his stead, soldiers diligently carrying out orders involving the restoration of the kingdom.
After a time, Ari no longer felt comfortable in Ylisstol. Something there ached her soul. It was as if her own dark aura had consumed the city and befouled it. She needed to escape.
Plegia calls me back. Why? Ari remembered distinctly thinking as she strode through the border gate. She had walked the whole way. Her feet were worn and blistered, yet they lead on. I’m so tired. Where are you taking me?
Three days later, Ari arrived at the cottage gate. She examined the remains of her home. The garden lay barren. Gangly weeds had slithered within the once flourishing rows and strangled their inhabitants. The house fared no better and the years of abandonment had been cruel. Ari stepped lightly over what remained of the busted door. The insides had been demolished. Furniture was tipped over, and drawers were ripped from their places and thrown across the ground. Someone searched here. The Grimleal, they did this… Ari crept her fingers across the edge of the discarded kitchen table; they came away covered in a fine layer of dust. A long time ago.
Ari felt her heart ache as she entered her old bedroom. Her mind raced with visions varying from young Robin running in to wake her in the early hours of the morning, to crisp winter nights warmly tucked in Erick’s embrace. Now forced back to reality, she walked amid the remaining wreckage. The bed mattress lay askew atop a broken bed frame. Her dresser drawers had been thrown aside and the contents within now littered the floor. Ari treaded carefully across the shattered glass of her old mirror. All her belonging had been destroyed. I don’t even know where to begin…
A loud crack at her feet made Ari recoil. Moving her foot, she realized with horror the sound had come from a silver-plated locket. Kneeling down, she somberly reached for the watch and opened the latch. She smiled painfully upon seeing her family’s portrait crosswise to the clock face. A large crack had formed down the center glass, dividing her from Erick and Robin. How oddly symbolic. Gently shutting it, Ari clasped the chain about her neck and held the locket to her heart. My last keepsake. I’ll work to get through this.
Renewing the cottage became Ari’s new purpose. She had no other. She wanted so badly to abandon the old home. It was ruined, broken, just as she. Yet, maybe that was the drive behind her efforts. Perhaps in saving the home, she could save herself. Or perhaps, it was just a way of distracting her mind. She would work endlessly about the house, tiring her body to the point where her mind could no longer linger in depthless contemplation.
Her efforts bore fruit. Salvaging what remained of the stored herbs in the shop, Ari replanted her garden. It took more than a year to see results, but with time, life returned. Her harvests were meager at first and she struggled to keep herself afloat. Without money she couldn’t turn to the town for supplies nor did she did think she could get hired as a cripple. Thankfully, Ari retained her ability to forage and hunt even after her long years in captivity. She found her aim was faulted at first, and it took numerous attempts to finally bring down decent game. However, after her initial struggles, the following hunts often ended in success. Her foraging reaped rewards as well. Ari was able to walk the neighboring forests in search of farmable crops, later returning home to sow her collected specimens.
One particular shrub held a special place at the corner of her property. Ari had happened upon it by chance. The elderberry patch nearly brought tears to her eyes. Ari tried and failed to avoid being consumed by her memories of meeting Moro within the thicket. She smiled through the pain, as the imagery of her young son, face covered in a purple stain, also flooded her with somber. As Ari walked away from the sight, she clutched tightly to a small shrub. It was an elderberry sapling, and she would treasure it as a keepsake forever.
Slowly, Ari restored the cottage to its former glory and her efforts had not gone unnoticed. A knock at the door startled Ari one morning. After gathering the courage, she hesitantly opened the door. Outside, stood the lengthy figure of a villager. She smiled awkwardly. He immediately recognized her as Moro’s apprentice and sang praise of her miraculous return; some even claimed, from the dead.
Despite the lack of intention, Ari soon found herself renewed as the village herbalist. Old and new customers flooded her gate requesting a variety of herbal brews. Many were taken aback to discover her lack of a voice, but none were deterred by the handicap. Life seemed to be returning to normal.
Something’s still missing. Something you’ll never get back. A piece of your soul.
Ari visited the grave of her husband often. She was surprised to find it even existed. One of Erick’s co-workers, Finis, arranged it. He had inherited the business and felt it was dishonorable to leave his former leader’s body to paint the street with red. So, he gathered the pieces and laid them to rest at an empty plot towards the south end of the local cemetery. Ari cried as he recounted the tale. Now, she made an effort to stop by the grave at least once a fortnight and mentally recall tales of her endeavors to her deceased love. It was her way of mourning the loss.
Robin, however, had no such grave. In her wandering, Ari had searched in vain for his resting place. Her only lead lay in the mass of bones and flesh that rotted disgracefully amid the desert sands. Ari couldn’t bring herself to view the monstrosity. That wasn’t her son. Taking the matter into her own hands, Ari decided to place a small shrine in the corner of her shop. It held no name nor picture but simply a small incense burner and a bouquet of freshly cut flowers. Daily, she would stop and pray to the small shrine. I shall honor your true memory, even when all others remember you for the sins of a beast.
With time, Finis became a close friend, and he had more to share. Ari could hardly believe her eyes as he strode down the gravel road with an unmistakably massive steed. Ari raced to greet Benjamin. Immediately recognizing her, Benji raised his head and loosed a high-pitched whinny. Ari met him with a hug. She ran her hands through his thick coat and took a deep inhale of his familiar sweet scent. Ari had presumed herself alone, but now the remainder of her family stood wrapped in her arms. Benji had been in Finis’s care all along and was now being returned to his rightful owner.
More and more of the pieces are falling into place. You should be thankful.
I am. Yet, my soul still cries. Everything reminds me of the past, of my mistakes, and of my losses.
I must force myself from this self-wallowing. I must discover how.
It was these very thoughts that bounced about in Ari’s head when the shop’s door chime rang. Presumably another customer, Ari quickly flicked the remainder of her ingredients into the brew and turned to greet them while stirring.
Ari anxiety bristled as she checked to see if her eyes were mistaken. Striding through her cottage door was the unmistakably masculine figure of Ylisse’s Exalt. She had only glimpsed him once, many years ago, but his cobalt colored hair and brand embellished right arm were undeniable proof of her assumption. He gazed about carelessly at her humble shop, and suddenly Ari was overcome with a sense of inferiority. While she may live in Plegia, he was the ruler of her homeland. Behind him strode a heavily armored knight. He too glanced about, and Ari got the feeling his eyes were more scrutinizing than the king’s.
“Sire, I’m sure there are more fitting places to look for medication. We need to reach Plegia’s capital in no later than two days lest we’ll be late for the assembly. I’m sure they have… better shops there.” The stern looking man started.
“Frederick, you know better than to question the quality of small town products.” The Exalt retorted. “Plus, we’ve only just gotten him back. I’ll not push my closest friend any further than I must. We just need something to aid his exhaustion.”
“Even if he himself insisted against it?”
“Especially then!” The king laughed. “You know he’d work himself dead if I’d allowed it.”
The king caught Ari’s eye and smiled. Without thinking, she found herself staring at the floor in a bow. I have the ruler of Ylisse standing within my home. What an honor. Ari’s mind suddenly grew cold as the initial shock subsided and her eyes fell upon the sacred sword hung at his hip. The great Exalt… slayer of ‘evil’. A hero among heroes. A bringer of eternal light. A murderer.
Her thoughts were cut short as the very same asked almost too casually, “Hey. The name’s Chrom; I’m Exalt to the Halidom of Ylisse. I was wondering if you had anything to combat fatigue. My friend is still recovering from a fight. I’d normally have him rest, but he insisted on accompanying our march. I’m worried he’s pushing himself too hard. Think you could help? Price isn’t an issue, I just want something that works.”
Fatigue? … Easy. Ari had plenty of farmhands who’d come to her requesting invigoration tonics. They often used them to push through unusually hectic harvest seasons. She nodded and spun to gather the ingredients. The quicker I get this done, the quicker they leave. Ari hoped the king would touch little in her shop and she already contemplated cleaning after his departure. Ari knew she was acting childish, but something inside her refused to listen to reason. He murdered my son. That sword at his side ran red with his blood. Nothing can undo that fact.
“Rather rude, not responding to his majesty.” The blue armored knight spat.
Ari ignored him. Why should she bother to attempt communicating the reasoning behind her silence? She quickened her pace as a distraction.
“Calm down, Frederick. You seem unusually irritable. Is everything ok?”
“Milord, need I remind you we are on Plegian soil. I’ve had to quell many who still hold tight to the Grimleal’s beliefs. As far as I’m concerned, we are in enemy territory. Assassins may be laying in ambush as we speak. I wish you had allowed more guards to accompany us.”
“Frederick, we both know that’s absurd. The war is over, has been over for nearly three years. I understand your hesitation, but we must not place judgment upon those who have given us no reason to. Plus, I truly believe we make a stealthier entrance as a smaller group anyways and it reminds me of the days we used to do scouting missions with the Shepherds.” Chrom defended.
“As you say, Sire.” Frederick conceded, still obviously displeased.
After a moment of dead silence, Chrom inquired, “Come to think of it, not everyone made it inside, did they?”
“Fear not, Milord. Lissa seems to have dragged her poor victim over to the farm animals. I have my eye on them through the window.”
“Why am I not surprised. Anything rural, and Lissa acts as though she were confined within the castle walls all her life. I guess I should be thankful the hardships of war haven’t broken her. Suppose we go and join them while we wait?”
Ari noticed the Exalt look to her for an answer. She waved in indifference and returned to mashing a ginseng root. The shop door chimed again, and the room grew silent. Ari sighed so deeply a shot of pain attacked her throat. She rubbed her scar lightly then glanced over to Robin’s shrine. The rich aroma drifting from the incense, she had lit earlier, wrapped itself about her. What would you think of all this? Would you want me to forgive him? Never in my life did I think I’d have to face the Exalt.
Ari had just finished sealing the tonic’s clay jar when her royal customer returned. She turned and was surprised to see not the king, but his stern knight. His previously standoffish behavior had off put her, so Ari wrote the receipt without even attempting to show appreciation for the purchase. The two stood in silence.
The man finally broke the stagnant air by stating, “My apologizes, I was careless in assuming your silence was out of disrespect. I failed to notice your injury. I know we are all adjusting to this newly founded peace and I’m afraid my old style of suspicion is struggling against retirement.”
Ari too realized she had been harsh in her judgments. This man was a retainer of the king. He had probably fought against many who had attempted to take his liege’s life. It was only natural for the knight to have grown wary. Gaining a decent amount of respect from her conclusion, Ari half-smiled and nodded in acceptance.
“Good evening, Milady.” He spoke courteously and gave a respectful bow before exiting the shop.
At last, Ari was alone. A sudden feeling of complete exhaustion overtook her. Her legs grew weak and she collapsed into the nearest chair. Ari stared distantly at the floor. Her mind flooded with thought. I just served my son’s killer. Do I hate the Exalt? Was I scared… or angry? Why is my body so weak? Ari watched as her vision grew clouded. Tears pooled at their edges and dripped helplessly to her lap.
I’m so tired…
Ari was thrusted from her wallowing as the sound of Benjamin’s wailing whinny ripped through the air. Strange. Benji doesn’t usually cry. Again, the horse’s voice broke the silence. Despite the house being closed up, Ari could hear the steed loud and clear. Something must be wrong. Dogs? She wiped the wet from her eyes and ran to the window. Benjamin stood beyond the front fence. His ears were perked forward, and he held his head high. This behavior was extremely uncharacteristic for the old stallion.
Fearing Benji was warning of an attacker, Ari quickly grabbed her bow and rushed to find the source of his discomfort. I swear… if the neighbor’s dog is terrorizing my flock again, I’m gonna… Ari searched angrily around the cottage grounds and about the coop. She found no sign of disturbance nor did the chickens seemed distressed in any manner. Still Benjamin paced and whinnied. Ari went to comfort him.
What’s wrong silly horse? Ari tried to reach for his neck, but the stallion jerked away. He tossed his head, stomped violently at the ground, and gave another ear-splitting wail. Something’s wrong. Following his gaze, Ari noticed Benjamin looked towards the road leading to town. What does he want out there? That can’t be it.
Ari decided it would be best to halter Benjamin to secure him. Grabbing his lead rope, she made to open the gate. Before she could slip through, Ari found herself thrown aside by the psychotic horse. She could do little but dodge as he charged his way through the opening. Ari looked from her place on the ground to see Benjamin tearing across the gravel path, a trail of dust marking his steps. She tried to call out to him but was painfully reminded that option was unavailable. Both angered and frustrated, Ari picked herself from the ground, wiped her dress, and prepared to retrieve her crazed horse.
I have half a mind to kill him. Ari had worked herself into a maddened frenzy as she strode along the back road. Stupid horse, how dare he make me chase after him. I’m getting too old for this shit. Her body had only recently began displaying signs of this fact. Her knees now cried with mild pains and she felt her breath beginning to grow laborious. When did you get so out of shape? Oh… there you are.
Ari could see Benjamin’s figure standing next to a small caravan. It was only after drawing closer that Ari realized it was the Exalt’s. She easily recognized the mounted knight’s glimmering blue armor. The group seemed to have noticed her as well and had pulled the caravan to a stop on the side of the road. The Exalt stood waving. Ari noticed the knight’s beautiful mount stood nose to nose with her own horse. Did he really need to run away just because of some stupid mare? Ari rubbed her temple as she realized the reason seemingly behind her horse’s disobedience. I feel a headache coming on. Why did you make me face these people again, Benji-?
Ari froze. Impossible. She couldn’t bring herself to take another step forward. She stood no more than twenty yards away now, and it was there she saw him. He stood just beyond Fredrick’s gallant steed and happily ran his hand across her old horse’s graying face. His amber eyes looked to her, and he mirrored the others with a look of confusion. They seemed to question why she had suddenly halted her approach.
Robin?
It was unmistakable. His height, his face, his hair… all matched that of the son she knew was dead. Moreover, the doppelgänger sported the old Plegian robe she had gifted to her own child so very long ago.
It’s not possible.
Enwrapped in dumbfounded disbelief, Ari simply stared as a blonde girl appeared from within the caravan and handed the young man a rope. Tying it about Benjamin’s neck, he passed the steed to the Exalt, who proceeded to lead the horse her way. Benji, deciding that was not the direction he pleased, reared and fought against the restriction.
“Seems to be rather fond of you.” Ari could hear Chrom call to the white-haired boy. “Help me out?”
He nodded and again gathered the horse’s lead. Ari took an unnerved step backwards as he then approached. It’s a ghost. That’s the only explanation; I’ve finally gone completely mad. I’m seeing things. This is nothing but a cruel joke. Although obviously concerned by her reaction, he still drew closer.
“I believe this horse belongs to you. He took a fancy to me really quick. I’m afraid we might have formed a small bond while waiting on my medication. Sorry for the trouble. I told Chrom I was fine, but he didn’t believe me. Regardless, thank you. I feel better already.” The blonde spoke with a smile while extending his arm to return the horse.
Ari glanced to his hand. He bears no mark, yet his voice is identical. This is my son. Why are the gods teasing me?
“I wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard, Robin. I’ll not be losing you a second time.” Ari listened to the Exalt retort, despite not being talked to directly. He stood on the other side of Benjamin.
Robin…
Ari broke from her stupor and reached for her boy. Ari had to confirm the figure was truly real and not a figment of her desperate imagination. He leaned away, but slowly accepted as her hand gently brushed against his cheek and through his hair. It feels the exact same. I have no doubts; this is my child. Unable to control herself, Ari pushed her way into an embrace. Despite his uncomfortable tensing and protests from the surrounding figures, Ari could not be forced from her son. Oddly enough, nor did he fight her.
Robin, Robin, it’s you.
It’s truly you.
You’re alive.
How can this be?
Do you not recognize me?
Ari failed to stop the flood that poured from her eyes. It pained her to pull away. She looked again through a dampened gaze and shook her head in astonishment. Robin’s face was laced with confusion and she could see the worn bags that adorned the bottom of his eyes. Ari could only imagine the events that may have befallen him over the near seven years they’d been apart. Amnesia… that’s the only explanation. Ari knew her son to be prone to it. Especially after the attack he had experienced right before their separation.
I must tell him who I am. Proof. I need proof! She opened her mouth in an attempt to communicate her thoughts; of course, not a sound was produced. Curse you! I need another way. Ari could tell the group now grew wary of her seemingly insane behavior. The blue armored knight was particularly on edge.
Directing the question at Robin, Chrom asked, “Do you know her?”
“No… well, I don’t know.” Robin responded with concern. “Although, she seems to know me.”
“Perhaps I was right to be cautious after all.” Frederick decided to chime in. His hand was now gripped sternly around his lance. “She has her horse back. Milord, we should be on our way.”
“But Frederick, I think she’s trying to tell us something.” Spoke the blonde girl who had handed Robin the rope just minutes ago. She walked over to Ari and looked her in the face. Ari got the sense she was being examined. “Who are you?”
“Milady Lissa, please stand back. We know not if this woman is dangerous.”
“Relax Frederick. I thought we established earlier we can’t assume character. Plus, she can’t even speak her defense. Perhaps she needs help.” Chrom defended.
Ari shook her head and pointed to Robin.
“Me?” He responded with an undertone of bewilderment.
Ari then pointed to herself.
“Perhaps she recognizes you from a battle?” Chrom offered.
“Or maybe you’ve visited her shop before?” Lissa spoke next.
“I… I don’t know, truly. I can’t remember.” Robin spoke almost shamefully.
“Well considering we’ve never made a stop in this town before, I highly doubt that.” Frederick decided to add.
“Geez, it was just a thought.” Lissa pouted. “Maybe Robin came here before we met him.”
Ari became frustrated at their bickering. She wished to be alone with her son. Why don’t I carry parchment around with me?! Ugh! Think Ari, think. How can you tell him…? How…?
Coming upon an answer, Ari’s hand raced to her chest. She stumbled upon a moment of panic when her fingers failed to grasp the item she desired. Frantic now, she felt all across her chest. Where is it!? A thankful sigh escaped as her fingers finally snagged the chain about her neck. Pulling at it, she located the locket that had fallen to her back when Benjamin’s earlier fury had knocked her to the ground. Pulling it over her head and free from her hair, Ari opened the small trinket and extended it to Robin.
Hesitantly, he reached for Ari’s precious keepsake. He took an unusually long pause as his mind digested the meaning behind what lay within. Ari nearly forgot to breath as she watched him. The others gathered around, attempting to catch a glimpse of what Robin held in his grasp. At last, his eyes rose from the silvery watch. They stared with an auburn glow she had assumed never to see again.
After a seemingly endless amount of time and through a voice that reeked of hesitation, the word she had longed to hear quietly escaped Robin’s lips,
“Mother…?”