Story Hope Never Dies

[Tangerine]

Hope Never Dies

A Fire Emblem Awakening short story



All he knew was darkness and pain; pain so extreme that he could barely stand breathing, almost making him wish for the specter of Death to finally drag him to whatever world he was destined to go to next. It would be so easy to simply let go and cast off his mortal shell, an act that would certainly free him of the agony he now endured. The temptation was incredibly strong and alluring . . . yet Robin ultimately found himself unable to simply give in. He had come too far to merely die now, at least not at this particular junction. There was yet more to achieve, still a job that needed to be done. There were no other options to consider. Dying was not something he could let happen.

With that thought firmly in mind, Robin forced himself into action. The first order of business was banishing the darkness that blinded him, which was the simplest of his current dilemmas. The solution was no harder than opening his eyes, though his eyelids were dreadfully heavy, and resisted his commands to move. Robin’s will to see again won out eventually, and his eyes slowly opened, once more bringing light into his world. The sight that greeted him was a grim one, however. It nearly made him shut his eyes again, if only to avoid viewing the heartbreaking scene that awaited.

Above all else, the sheer number of bodies was what drew most of his attention. There were countless corpses strewn across the battlefield, not all of them in his line of sight due to his prone position on the ground. Many of them were the enemy’s troops, though there were a far greater number of his army’s own soldiers than Robin would’ve liked. Most of them were no-name soldiers that Robin hardly knew; generic warriors whose names were likely to be lost to history. Not all of them were so unknown to him, however. Looking carefully, he could spot several of the Ylissean League’s top fighters, the people Chrom charged into battle with every time the League entered a skirmish. Robin paid close attention to those bodies; or rather he did as best he could, what with still lying on his stomach in a pool of his own blood. He was close with nearly every one of the League’s star soldiers, as many of the rank and file had taken to calling them, and knew all of their names and was close to each in varying degrees. They were his friends, and pained him to know that some, if not many, of them were now dead. He struggled to take note of who was well and truly deceased, and who was simply unconscious or unable to move.

To his immediate left lay Stahl, the genial cavalier who had been fighting with him prior to everything going horribly wrong. It didn’t take any sort of genius to see that the young man had parted this world, the many wounds on his body clear indication of how much punishment he took. He didn’t go quietly, though. The number of enemies that were piled up around him was a testament to how tough of a fight he put up before finally being overwhelmed. A few paces away from him was Vaike, face down in a massive pool of blood, though it was more than likely that not all of it was his. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he was dead and gone, naught more than a memory to those who knew him.

A bit off to Vaike’s right and a couple of yards down, Robin spotted Miriel. She was gone too, her mage’s hat askew on her head. Robin might’ve laughed had the situation been different, as he’d never seen as much as a hair out of place on Miriel’s head. Right beside her was her son, Laurent, several arrows stuck fast in his chest. Robin took some solace in the fact that poor Laurent had at least died next to his mother. It was difficult to imagine what it’d be like to have to go on living after losing a parent, or even both parents. Robin was aware that Laurent knew exactly how that felt, knew how painful it was to be forced to live without the parental guidance that children needed. He wasn’t the only one, either. There were other members of the Ylissean League who knew those feelings. They’d gone to great lengths to change the terrible fates they had been faced with, though Robin forced himself not to dwell on that just now. There were more immediate matters to deal with.

Continuing his survey, Robin laid eyes on one of his closest friends, Lissa. The young cleric was the first he saw that wasn’t dead, simply injured. Straining his eyes, he could spot a gash on Lissa’s right arm, and her left leg was bent at an odd angle. She probably couldn’t move, but she clearly still held her healing staff. Assuming it still had a charge or two left in it, she could quickly heal Robin of his injuries and allow him to try and salvage this situation. All he needed to do was get to her, which was a task easier said than done. The moment he tried to stand up, pain shot through his entire body, keeping him pinned. He needed to fight through the pain if he hoped to get over to where Lissa sat. With a grunt of effort, he managed to climb to his feet, steadfastly ignoring the fact that he was still bleeding.

Lissa can fix me up, he thought. I just need to get over to her.

Finally standing, Robin began the trek over to Lissa’s location. It wasn’t a massive distance he had to cross, but his wounds made it feel like miles. Hoping to get her attention, he called out to her. To his dismay, his voice came out as a hoarse whisper. Lissa, who was staring at the ground in front of her, didn’t move an inch or give any sign that she heard him. Annoyed with his weakness at such a crucial moment, Robin called out to her once more. His voice climbed an octave or two, but it was still pathetically weak. Again, she showed no signs of having heard his call. Mustering up all the energy he could manage, Robin tried yet again. The third time was apparently the charm, as his voice came out strong enough for Lissa to hear, instantly causing her to raise her head and look around for who called her. It took mere seconds for her to spot Robin, and she gasped when she saw the condition he was in. Robin gave her a small smile and a weak wave, trying not to look too broken and battered. He knew he failed at that task, both because his wounds were that bad, and because his body picked that moment to give out. He went crashing back onto the ground, more blood spilling from the gaping wound in his chest.

I’ve had my share of axe wounds, but this is something else. Of course, the man that gave it to me is something else too.

Robin didn’t bother trying to move again, aware that he had gone as far as he could. With the amount of blood that he’d lost by this point, it would be a grand miracle for even Lissa to be able to fix him. After all, a healer could close up his wounds, but there was no getting back all of the blood that now stained the grass beneath him. Though he loathed admitting it, death was rapidly approaching. His mind desperately scrambled for a way to hang on a little longer, but it could discern no possible solutions. Robin let out a long sigh, resigned to his fate. At least no one could tell him he didn’t try.

“Robin, hang on!” Lissa called out. “I’m coming!”

The man in question looked over at Lissa, unable to keep from gasping as he watched her shakily get to her feet, letting out a yelp as she put pressure on her left leg. She was trying to come to him since he could no longer reach her. Given how delicate Lissa sometimes was, despite her protests otherwise, seeing her slowly march over to him through what looked to be incredibly intense pain stirred something deep within Robin’s core. Through her actions, she managed to bolster his previously fading resolve, making him mentally bounce back and resume his attempts to stave off his impending expiration. Not for the first time since he met her, Robin thought of just how strong Lissa truly was.

After what felt like an eternity, the young cleric finally reached the rapidly fading Robin, wasting no time in holding her Mend staff over him and releasing the healing energies the wondrous rod held within. Robin could feel the healing effect immediately, marveling at the sensation of all his wounds closing right on up. In just a few seconds, his body was right as rain. The massive loss of blood was still an issue, though, as he still felt very weak. Even so, he was yet again impressed with how quickly he was healed. He’d born witness to the effect countless times before, both used on himself and others, but he never really got over how miraculous such a tool was.

“Oh, I almost thought I wouldn’t get to you in time,” Lissa said, sitting down beside him. The look on her face told Robin that she was relieved to not be standing on her injured leg anymore.

“I’m surprised I held on long enough, to tell you the truth,” Robin said honestly. “I was sure my life had reached its end. I’m glad you managed to save me.”

He decided not to mention how dizzy he was beginning to feel, due to all of his missing blood. After seeing her struggle so hard, it didn’t feel right to worry her even further. Thinking about her leg brought a question to the forefront of Robin’s mind, though.

“Lissa, I’ve been wondering something for a while now,” he began.

“What’s that?” she inquired.

“Well, I see you and Maribelle heal others all the time, but never yourselves. How come you never do? Wouldn’t that be more effective than relying on vulneraries?”

Lissa smiled faintly, looking unsurprised to hear the question. “That’s just the way healing staves work,” she said. “My tutor, Father Selas, told me that a healing staff works because of the user’s ‘desire to aid others’, or something like that.”

“That doesn’t explain why you can’t heal yourself, though,” Robin said with a slight frown. Lissa went quiet for a moment, searching for the right words.

“It has something to do with self-sacrifice, or whatever. I don’t really remember my lessons all that well, to tell you the truth. Maribelle knows this stuff way better than I do. You should ask her about it.”

“I think I will,” Robin said, recalling that Maribelle was back at base camp, having remained behind on his orders. That thought brought his mind back around to the current situation before him, making him cringe a little. He’d spotted a few of his friends lying dead on the battlefield already, and he had no idea of how many more might’ve fallen. He needed to see the extent of the casualties for himself, now that he could at least walk. He still felt extremely dizzy at some points, however, and knew he’d have to take it reasonably slow. With a determined grunt, he began to heave himself off the ground and onto his feet.

“Hey, where are you going?” Lissa asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“I need to survey the field,” Robin told her. “I can’t just sit here. There might be survivors around that can use my help.”

“How are you gonna heal them without me? You don’t have a staff, and even if you did, you don’t know how to use one.”

“You can’t walk right now. Just hang tight here and I’ll bring anyone I find back here.”

Lissa gave him a look of uncertainty, coupled with a dash of fear plainly visible in her eyes. “And what if they’re too injured to move? What will you do then?”

“I . . . don’t know, actually. I’ll work it out when the time comes,” Robin said, not entirely confident that he could carry anyone in his current state, especially if they were heavy. Still, what else could he do? He doubted he had the strength to carry even Lissa, who was as light as a feather.

“Robin, wait!” she screeched as he tried to walk away. “I don’t want to be left alone here again. Please don’t leave me . . . .”

Robin couldn’t help but return to her side, dropping to his knees in order to hold her in his arms. As he gently rocked her, attempting to soothe her, he felt the stirrings of feelings he hadn’t felt since the campaign against Mad King Gangrel, back when the Ylissean League had just been the Shepherds. He momentarily looked back fondly on old times, especially those he had with Lissa, but he dismissed the unbidden feelings as quickly as they had come forth. While he treasured those days, fate had seen fit to take him in a different direction. His heart was now firmly held by another. Even so, he’d probably always have some lingering deep feelings for Lissa. She was, for all intents and purposes, his first love. It was never an official thing between them, but it was close enough.

This isn’t really the time to be dwelling on such matters, though, Robin thought. It’s imperative that I focus on the issue at hand.

Lissa tightened her hold on Robin, now quietly sobbing. It was clear that she couldn’t deal with being alone while surrounded with so much death. Even though she had been present for many battles by this point, Robin understood why she was breaking down. She had never before seen a comrade fall, and seeing so many lose their lives at once had to be a soul crushing sight. The young cleric looked to be in a difficult place, mentally speaking. Robin wished to check on the status of the rest of the army, but Lissa’s situation called for a delicate touch. He racked his brain for a suitable way to detach himself from her and go searching, but as his friend pressed herself into him even further, a sudden sense of foreboding crept its way into Robin’s mind. There was something important he wasn’t remembering, but he had no idea just what it was.

“Lissa, I need to go now,” he told his friend, slowly extracting himself from her hold. She didn’t give too much resistance, but she still tugged on him a little.

“Don’t leave me alone, Robin. I really need you right now,” she said in a quiet voice.

“I promise not to be gone for too long, okay? I’ll come right back in a little bit. Hang in there for me, Lissa.”

The cleric looked at him, tears streaming down her face. A number of emotions could be seen swirling in her eyes, and Robin wondered what she was thinking. Though it was partially obscured by her fear, there was something in her expression that Robin was quite familiar with, especially as he saw it in the eyes of another every day. It was unmistakably love in her eyes, but to such a degree that it caught Robin off guard. He originally thought that Lissa had moved on from the relationship they had two years prior, the one from before Robin had started to fall for the woman that eventually became his wife. Looking at her now, he started to realize that he may have been wrong.

“I’m so sorry, Robin,” Lissa said, giving him a sad smile. “I bet I’m embarrassing myself, huh? I’ll pull it together, I promise.”

“I wasn’t worried about that. I know how strong you are,” Robin told her. “And I will come back as quickly as I can. I won’t leave you here any longer than necessary.”

She smiled more brightly this time, though it was quickly replaced by a hesitant look, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to say the next thing on her mind. Robin watched her for a moment, silently telling her to go ahead. After a few more seconds of silence, she complied. “You know . . . Sumia is really lucky to have you. You’re the kind of man that girls dream of.”

Robin focused on her face as she spoke, noticing the slightly pained expression that flashed across it before being replaced with a smile. It told him all he needed to know. Lissa, despite his hopes, hadn’t moved on to anyone else. She still pined for him, and that was difficult to accept. Their relationship hadn’t been anything more than holding hands and the occasional kiss on the cheek, most of which had been unconscious actions. It never truly got defined as anything more than friends who were unsure of whether or not to take that next step.

He had come close, though. When Chrom had mentioned his plans of getting married after Gangrel had been dealt with, Robin realized that he had been going woefully slowly with Lissa and planned to finally advance their relationship beyond the childish level it had been stuck at for some time. He had been heading to talk to her that same day, but he’d gotten sidetracked by running into Sumia, who had clearly been in low spirits. Perceptive as he was, Robin quickly worked out that Chrom was the reason she had been so down, a fact she confirmed. Wanting to cheer his friend up, Robin temporarily pushed back his plans to speak to Lissa and spent the day with Sumia. When he finally left her to return to his room late that night, he had realized immediately that Lissa was no longer the only woman he had more than friendly feelings for. In the span of a day, Sumia had managed to capture his heart.

His mind returning to the present time, Robin considered what he could say to Lissa. He knew he had probably hurt her more than he knew by ultimately shifting his affections to Sumia, but neither of them had ever given word to their feelings, while Sumia had very quickly fallen for the tactician and made it known to him. In retrospect, it was obvious who he was going to choose. Still, he felt that he owed Lissa some sort of apology.

“Lissa, there’s something I need to say to you,” he started, formulating his apology in his head.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, noting his tone.

He opened his mouth to speak, when it hit him like a bolt of Thoron. He had just realized the reason for his unease earlier. His immediate reaction was to berate himself for somehow forgetting such an important detail, but that annoyance quickly transformed into fear as he considered the implications.

“Robin, what is it?” Lissa asked, sounding worried. His sudden distress must have shown on his face. He didn’t bother trying to cover it up.

“Where’s Sumia?” he asked, head whipping about frantically. “She was fighting in this battle.”

“I think she’s in the castle,” Lissa responded, pointing towards the structure in question. Robin followed her gaze, heartbeat steadily increasing. “The battle moved into there not too long ago.”

Robin stared at the castle for a long moment, his fear threatening to dominate his being. As he thought about everyone that was inside, continuing to give all they had to defeat the enemy, fear was gradually replaced with anger. His rapidly increasing rage was all directed at the man who the Ylissean League had come to defeat; the man who had very nearly killed him and now threatened his wife and friends.

“Lissa, I’m going to go help end this,” Robin said, voice devoid of any discernible emotion. It was a stark contrast to the boiling rage within. “We’ve had far too many casualties, and I won’t let us rack up any more.”

Lissa looked as if she’d put up an argument, but thought better of it. “Okay. Be careful in there. You’ve almost been killed once, and I doubt it’d feel nice to be in that position again.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

With a last look at Lissa, Robin took off for the enemy’s stronghold, where the League was making the final push to end this fight. Though he knew his body was still weak, complete with persistent dizziness that came and went, he forged ahead with determination. His wife was in danger, and there was no way he was going to stand by while she fought for her life. He had to find her, or bring a decisive end to the battle before she could get hurt.


It took Robin a few minutes to reach the castle gates, lacking the energy to run. Along the way he managed to scavenge a Bolganone tome and a silver sword, the latter coated in fresh blood. Sounds of battle could be heard through the open gates, and Robin moved as fast as he could to join the fray. Once inside, he spotted soldiers in the thick of battle all over the place. He took particular note of Brady and Lon’qu, who were fighting near each other. The Feroxi swordsman moved like lightning, cutting down foes left and right. Brady, meanwhile, was deftly bludgeoning those that came his way with his axe, and simultaneously using a Mend staff to keep allied soldiers healed up. The two made an effective team, and Robin made a mental note to keep their teamwork in mind for later battles.

Though he could’ve stopped to aid them, Robin kept moving. He had one major goal: find Sumia. Nothing else mattered at the moment. He did halt a few times on his journey though, pulling out his Bolganone tome to rain fire down on those who were easy targets for him, or the few who were giving his allies trouble. He’d saved the lives of Inigo, Cordelia, and Nowi through such actions; though he wasn’t entirely sure they needed his assistance to win their fights.

Better safe than sorry, he reasoned, waving to Nowi as she flew by him in dragon form. She spared him a friendly wave of her tail before turning her attention to the many remaining foes spread out through the halls. Robin noted that Sumia was not among the group and called out to Cordelia, who had been flying through the hallway astride her pegasus, using the space the incredibly high ceiling offered her to dive bomb enemies.

“Have you seen Sumia anywhere?” he asked when the redhead swooped down to answer his call.

“I did a bit earlier, but I lost track of where she went,” Cordelia answered. “She was on foot rather than riding her pegasus, so she disappeared pretty quickly. It’s possible she went to help Chrom. He went straight for the throne room once we breached the castle. He can probably use your help too.”

“I’m on it,” Robin said, setting off. Hopefully he’d find Sumia fighting alongside the prince. At least he’d protect her with his life.

After what felt like an eternity, Robin finally found himself standing in front of the double doors to the throne room. He could hear the sound of metal clashing from within, assuming that Chrom was currently engaged in combat. There was no way to tell exactly how many people were present inside without going on in, but even if Sumia wasn’t inside, Robin wasn’t going to pass up the chance to end this whole fight. The man who’d nearly killed him was within, and Robin intended to defeat him before anyone else fell in battle. Working with Chrom should give him the edge needed to emerge victorious, or so he hoped.

With a deep breath, and a prayer to Naga, Robin took hold of his tome and flung open the doors. He was greeted with the sight of Chrom circling around the man who’d been far more challenging than Robin had initially expected. He also noted Sully standing a step or two behind Chrom, lance at the ready. He didn’t immediately spot Sumia anywhere, but his attention was admittedly grabbed by the opponent Chrom and Sully faced. For a moment, all Robin could see was his enemy, the man who had become the biggest obstacle the Ylissean League had ever faced. The one known as Walhart.

Walhart, the man known as the Conqueror and the one who had given Robin his earlier wound, failed to see the giant blast of fire until it was too late, resulting in a direct hit. The blast swept him off his feet, though the Emperor of Valm didn’t stay down for more than a few seconds. Once he was back up, he turned his gaze upon Robin, a surprised expression crossing his face for a few moments before being replaced with what Robin could only assume was respect.

“Well, well, it seems you yet live, tactician!” Walhart said in his booming voice. “I was certain you would not rise again after my attack, but you have surprised me. I applaud your tenacity, but you have made a mistake in coming to face me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Robin said, walking towards Chrom’s side. “I count three of us against one of you. Not even the Conqueror can stand up to such odds.”

“I agree,” Chrom added. “This ends here, Walhart!”

“Ha! You’re all fools if you believe I will be defeated by such measly numbers. I have broken far greater men than you, and in larger numbers. All of you shall fall before my axe!”

Robin truly believed that his side had the edge. Three against one was not favorable odds for anyone. To his utter disbelief, Walhart proved him wrong. Chrom had been the first to attack, dashing towards the Conqueror, Falchion poised for a piercing strike. Walhart met the prince’s blade with his axe, parrying the blow easily. Sully moved only seconds after Chrom, approaching from the side, and Robin provided support by invoking the fiery magic of Bolganone again. Walhart reacted with impressive speed, sending Chrom reeling with a kick to the chest, gripping Sully’s spear with his off hand and pulling her forward into the raging fire, capping it off by deftly leaping out of the magic’s range himself. With no way to avoid it, Sully took the full brunt of Bolganone, screaming in pain as the fire blazed around her.

Chrom, who had managed to stay on his feet despite Walhart’s vicious kick, let out an almost feral roar and charged. Walhart dodged the blow, countering with a mighty strike that could’ve shattered rock. Chrom spun around to block the attack, but Robin got there first, abandoning his tome in favor of his bloodied sword. He didn’t want to risk Walhart maneuvering out of the way of another fireball and putting one of the others in the path of the magic. His reasoning made sense, but he hadn’t taken into account how weak he still was. Robin’s legs nearly buckled under the weight of Walhart’s blow, Chrom’s timely intervention the only thing that prevented it from occurring. The blue haired prince leapt over Robin to deliver a powerful overhead slash, causing Walhart to raise his axe in order to block it. Robin thought to strike while he had an opportunity, but Walhart preempted him, performing another kick that struck Robin’s midsection and sent him tumbling backward. In the same motion, Walhart spun around and whacked Chrom with the handle of his axe, causing the prince to roll off to the side in pain.

“He’s a monster,” Robin mused, feeling weaker than ever. His body wasn’t up for heavy punishment just then.

“A monster, am I?” Walhart asked, looming over Robin. “Perhaps you now understand just who it is you face. I am the man who will unite this world, and you will not stand in my way! Your life ends here and now, boy!” With a victorious grunt, Walhart raised his axe, preparing to bring it down upon the tactician. Robin froze, unable to move an inch. Death seemed a certainty this time around.

“Not a chance!” rang out the determined voice of Ylisse’s prince. Chrom darted forward, sword raised. Walhart quickly turned around to defend himself, but a distraction appeared in the form of Sully. She came forward, lightly smoking from the Bolganone blast, and struck with her lance. It pierced Walhart’s side, causing him to groan in pain. Chrom took advantage of the momentary distraction and went for the killing blow. Walhart, however, wasn’t distracted for long and launched an attack of his own. Chrom had been committed to his strike, and thus had no chance to evade. The fatal attacks hit their targets at exactly the same time.

Chrom’s Falchion pierced Walhart’s jaw and went straight through his head, while Walhart’s axe went through Chrom’s midsection, coming close to bisecting the prince. The damage was extensive, and Robin instinctively knew that Chrom was not long for this world. Though Walhart had been killed instantly, Robin barely noticed. His whole being threatened to shatter as he watched Chrom fall over, blood spurting from the large gash in his side.

“Chrom!” Sully yelled, running over to him. Robin watched his best friend for a few seconds before pulling himself together and heading over as well. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Chrom, his best friend, was suddenly on the verge of death.

“Chrom, you can’t die on me,” Sully said through her constant sobbing. “You’re tougher than this. You’d better hold on until we get Brady in here. You got that?”

Chrom smiled, though it was one filled with regret. He knew he wasn’t going to remain conscious for long, with as much blood as he was losing. He then noticed Robin standing there, and his expression became much sadder. Robin took no notice, his mind too occupied on what he could say to his dying friend. Chrom had been his truest friend, and the one who had provided endless inspiration and support. It mortified Robin that he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He was saved the trouble when Chrom spoke instead, his voice extremely faint.

“Robin . . . sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay, Chrom. You did what you had to. I wish you’d let him kill me, though.”

Chrom tried to shake his head, only managing a near imperceptible motion. “No . . . way,” he got out. With a shaky hand, he pointed to a corner of the room. “Forgive me . . . my friend. I couldn’t . . . protect her.”

Robin couldn’t help but look in the direction Chrom indicated, fearing what he’d see. When he spotted the body that lay forgotten at the room’s far end, his whole world froze and subsequently shattered into a million pieces, nearly taking his sanity with it. His worst fears came to life as he looked at the unmoving form of his wife, either dead or well on her way. He willed his body to move, using up what energy he had to run over to her. He collapsed in front of her body, totally spent and on the verge of shutting down. The only thing that kept him from that fate was that Sumia was still breathing, though her breaths were labored.

“Sumia, can you hear me?” he asked quietly, wanting to hear her voice. She opened her eyes upon hearing him and smiled. He couldn’t help but smile back. He loved her angelic smile.

“Robin, you’re alive!” she said, already tearing up. “I thought you were dead!”

“Lissa saved my life. I was lucky she was still out there. She wasn’t able to come with me, but Brady’s still out there. Just hang in there and I’ll go get him.”

“No . . . it won’t be necessary,” Sumia said, shaking her head. “I’m already fading. I just want to spend these last few moments with you.”

“Please, Sumia! I can’t let it end like this! I don’t know what I’d do without you. Brady, get in here right now! We need healing, dammit!”

Robin broke down, the tears flowing fast and freely. The love of his life was dying in front of him and he could do nothing to stop it. He had never felt this powerless before, and he wasn’t sure he could take it.

“These last two years have been so wonderful,” Sumia said sadly. “I never thought I’d find someone who would love me so deeply. I’m a lucky woman, if I do say so myself. I love you so much, Robin. I wish we could have more time together.”

“We can, you just have to hold on a little longer,” he said, adding, “Brady, hurry the hell up! I need you over here!”

“I want you to promise me something, Robin. It’s important to me that you do.”

“Anything, honey. You name it.”

“Live,” Sumia said. “I want you to live your life to the fullest, no matter how you may feel. Don’t let grief destroy you, okay? Do that for me, and I can die happily.”

“Sumia, I . . . I can’t. Without you, I have nothing. You’re my everything, my entire world. I don’t know how I can go on.”

“Can you hold me, Robin? I want to feel your arms around me one more time . . .”

Robin did as she asked and embraced her, his eyes filled with tears. The moment he would be forever separated from his most precious treasure was fast approaching, and he wasn’t certain he could bear the pain. There was a brief flash of an idea in his mind, one that would allow him to follow his wife into the hereafter, but he dismissed it after looking at Sumia’s expression. She was watching him carefully, her own eyes leaking profusely. She gave her head the tiniest of shakes, as if she knew what he was thinking.

“I love you so much, you know that?” she said, though it was something that Robin was well aware of. “When you asked me to marry you, it was the happiest day of my life. I never knew just how amazing life could be, and the time I spent with you was magical. You’re so wonderful . . .”

“I feel the same way,” Robin said, his voice cracking slightly. “That day I spent with you turned out to be the best thing I could’ve done, huh?”

“Yes, definitely. Robin . . . never lose that kindness and compassion. I think it’s your best trait.”

Robin leaned down and placed a kiss upon Sumia’s lips. It wasn’t intensely passionate, or filled with lust, but a soft and innocent kiss that lasted only seconds. When he straightened up again, Sumia smiled at him one last time, eyes beginning to close.

“Tell Cynthia and Morgan to stay strong, and that their mother loves them dearly. Someday, we’ll all see each other again, I know it,” she said.

“I have no doubt of that,” Robin agreed. Sumia nodded.

“Until that time comes . . . goodbye, my valiant knight.”

“Goodbye, my precious angel.”

With that last exchange, Sumia’s eyes finally shut for good, the last embers of her life’s fire now extinguished. Robin simply stared at her body, the pain of both her and Chrom’s deaths weighing heavily on him. How could it all have ended this way?

“Hey, I’m here, I’m here!” Brady yelled from behind, crashing through the doors. Robin looked back to see the priest ready to wield his staff, wishing he’d arrived earlier. It was too late now.

“Robin, I brought Brady to help,” Sully said, coming in behind him. She must’ve left a little while back. Robin hadn’t noticed.

“. . . Thanks, Brady, but you can’t help now. She’s already gone,” Robin said sadly. Brady fixed him with a heartbroken look.

“I’m sorry, man. If only I’d been here sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have known.”

Robin climbed to his feet, picking up Sumia’s body as he did so. He gave Chrom’s body one last look, then, without another word, left the room. It took everything he had in him not to scream in despair at the outcome of events.


Robin was an utterly broken man. A week had passed since the tragic events of the battle against Walhart, and each day had been an almost unbearable challenge for the young tactician. Dealing with the deaths of his wife and best friend had been arduous enough, but having to tell his children that their mother had died nearly destroyed what little sanity Robin had left. Cynthia had reacted to the news fairly well, managing to keep her sorrow inside until she was in private. Morgan, on the other hand, had broken into tears immediately, unable to contain her sadness. Cynthia ended up leading her sister away, showing a maturity that Robin hadn’t even been aware she possessed. He figured it had something to do with her desire to be a hero of justice, probably assuming a true hero would be strong for others. Robin admired her for that, as he couldn’t quite do the same himself.

He didn’t visibly cry or outwardly reveal his emotionally distraught state, though. In actuality, Robin showed no emotion whatsoever. He spoke only when it was absolutely necessary, and kept out of sight whenever he could do so. He led the League in their roundup of the last few pockets of resistance around the area, but adopted a cold and unfeeling demeanor for the whole process, as if none of it was important to him. He knew that his attitude wasn’t helping morale much, as shattered as it already was, but he just didn’t care. He’d suffered two major personal losses, and no one was going to deny him his period of mourning.

The League was preparing to finally depart Valm, ready to return home to Ylisse for the time being in order to give Chrom and Sumia a proper burial. Even those who made their homes elsewhere agreed to come to Ylisse, wanting to pay their respects. Robin dreaded the funerals that would follow; unsure he could get through them in one piece. He knew there was no way he’d miss them, but it still wasn’t something he expected to be able to handle well. In an attempt to clear his head, he decided to spend the last hour or so in precious solitude. He chose to climb to the castle’s roof, as no one would likely be up there or come seeking him out, short of an emergency, of course. He was starting the long climb up the staircase that led to the rooftop, when a voice called out to him.

“Robin, wait up!”

He turned around to see Lissa running up to him, panting heavily. He wondered what she wanted, as they hadn’t spoken since that fateful day. “What’s up, Lissa? Something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I saw you heading this way and I wanted to talk to you,” she replied. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m managing,” Robin said. “What about you? Losing your last living family member can’t be easy for you.”

“It’s not, but I’ll be okay. You’re the one I’m worried about. You’ve been so distant this past week. I know you’re hurting, but it isn’t good to cut yourself off from everyone else.”

“I haven’t. I’ve just been busy, that’s all.” Lissa scoffed at his words.

“You’re a poor liar sometimes, Robin. I know you don’t feel like interacting with people, but what good does that do? It won’t bring Chrom or Sumia back. Besides, you’re the leader of the Ylissean League now that my brother’s gone. You aren’t doing any favors for everyone else’s morale with your reclusiveness.”

Despite his dark mood, Robin couldn’t help but grin. “Frederick told you to tell me that last part, didn’t he?”

“Maybe,” Lissa said with a grin of her own. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true, though.”

Robin let out a sigh. He knew he was making everyone worry, but he was too emotionally drained to do anything else. He recalled his promise to Sumia, but wasn’t sure he could keep it. How could he live without her? She was the love of his life. Life wasn’t complete without her by his side.

“You’re heading to the rooftop, right? Come on, let’s go together,” Lissa said, pulling him out of his thoughts and leading him up the stairs. It didn’t take long to reach the top, where Lissa quickly threw open the door, revealing the sight of the landscape of Valm, stretching off in every direction.

“Wow, look at this view!” Lissa said in awe. It appeared that she hadn’t yet come to the castle roof. “I mean, it’s no Ylisse, but still, this is amazing.”

Robin said nothing as he stepped forward and made his way to the edge that overlooked the field of battle he’d been on just a week ago. As he looked down, he could only grimace. The grass beneath, which had once been a beautiful green color, had been stained with all of the blood that was spilled during the battle, turning the field into a sea of crimson that served as a reminder of what had happened. Robin stared at the reddened field, the blood coating it dark and dry, and thought about all that was lost. He, and the Ylissean League in general, had given up so much to defeat Walhart, and it all felt like a waste. He hated to think what might await them in the future, especially if what Lucina had said was true. The ultimate fate of the world seemed bleak, and Robin almost wanted to give up and die.

He carried on, though, if only to honor the promise to his wife. It would be difficult, but he would at least try. After all, he still had Cynthia and Morgan. They needed a father, and he couldn’t bring himself to abandon them. Sumia would never forgive him if he did that.

“Robin?” Lissa asked, coming to stand next to him.

“Yeah?”

“Um . . . you know that I’m here for you if you need me, right? I know you’re having a tough time right now, but you don’t have to suffer alone.”

Robin felt her hand slip into his, giving it a soft squeeze. He looked at Lissa, unsure of what to say. She just smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek. It was an innocent gesture, one that told him that she really would be there for him, no matter what. Suddenly, things didn’t look quite as bad as they had before. Sumia may have been gone, and there was no bringing her back, but maybe, just maybe, his life might one day be complete again.

As he looked toward the horizon, Robin felt a spark of hope come to life within him, a hope he thought was long gone. Lucina had always said that hope never dies, though. Robin never felt the truth of that statement more than he did right then. Despite all of the despair he’d felt, his hope never fully died out.

He would see to it that no one else’s would, either. No matter what it took.

[Shadows Interceptor]

And now you've made me cry . . . Even so, I really enjoyed reading this. The details in your writing, from describing the setting, to the combat, the Robin's grief, were spot on. Very, very well done!

[eclipse]

Remarriage would be a really abusive mechanic in Fire Emblem, but it would be pretty cool if it was possible. . .or, if it worked like how you wrote it.

[Meldorn]

"Most of them were no-name soldiers that Robin hardly knew; generic warriors whose names were likely to be lost to history." ...so, Kellam?

Sorry, couldn't resist xD.

In all seriousness: absolutely brutal and beautiful writing. We usually try for perfect victories with no casualties in Fire Emblem, but this piece really makes you imagine what would happen if we couldn't reset anymore--when you make a mistake and everything unravels around you. The kind of hopelessness you depicted rivals how I felt when everything was going wrong during Emmeryn's rescue in Awakening. The character relationships were portrayed nicely as well. They seemed very accurate and realistic. Fantastic work--you've definitely got my vote.

[Balcerzak]

Somebody needs to know when to press the reset button. This is unacceptable.

[blah the Prussian]

Somebody needs to know when to press the reset button. This is unacceptable.

Pay, resetting is for cowards! True tacticians don't press reset!

[Jotari]

I'm going to have to contest the title on this one. That Avatar is also unlikely to be in any condition to resist the draw of Grima but even if he does, with both Chrom and Lucina dead the only potential heirs who can perform the Awakening is Lissa and Chrom's second child (I assume Kjelle given Sully's pairing with Chrom, not a natural Sword user unless she promotes to Great Knight) neither of which are reliable candidates. Meaning Naga is off the table both for giving them the information to defeat Grima and getting them on his back, as well as sealing off any hope of a potential Future Past scenario. So yeah, they're basically f**ked.

[Sword_of_Dusk]

I'm going to have to contest the title on this one. That Avatar is also unlikely to be in any condition to resist the draw of Grima but even if he does, with both Chrom and Lucina dead the only potential heirs who can perform the Awakening is Lissa and Chrom's second child (I assume Kjelle given Sully's pairing with Chrom, not a natural Sword user unless she promotes to Great Knight) neither of which are reliable candidates. Meaning Naga is off the table both for giving them the information to defeat Grima and getting them on his back, as well as sealing off any hope of a potential Future Past scenario. So yeah, they're basically f**ked.

Actually, Lucina is still alive. I suppose I could make that clear in a future revision. As long as she remains, there's still hope.

I must say, I appreciate the kind words you've all left. I worked so hard on this, as I wanted to make something very emotional. I hope I succeeded, if only a little bit.

[Meldorn]

if only a little bit.

Yeah, only a little bit. Pay no heed to this bucket of tears next to me. xD

[Jotari]

Actually, Lucina is still alive. I suppose I could make that clear in a future revision. As long as she remains, there's still hope.

I must say, I appreciate the kind words you've all left. I worked so hard on this, as I wanted to make something very emotional. I hope I succeeded, if only a little bit.

Well you use the phrases "Lucina had said" and "Lucina had always said". That's the past perfect tense which refers to a past event taking place before another past event. To me that implies she died or is missing and its something she used to say when she was around. If it was just "Like Lucina said" or "Like Lucina always says" then it would leave no doubt in my mind that she's still alive. The current phrasing means that one way or another, she doesn't say it anymore.

Edited February 9, 2016 by Jotari

[Sword_of_Dusk]

Well you use the phrases "Lucina had said" and "Lucina had always said". That's the past perfect tense which refers to a past event taking place before another past event. To me that implies she died or is missing and its something she used to say when she was around. If it was just "Like Lucina said" or "Like Lucina always says" then it would leave no doubt in my mind that she's still alive. The current phrasing means that one way or another, she doesn't say it anymore.

I realized that upon rereading it. My bad. I'll fix it next time I get a chance.

[Jotari]

I realized that upon rereading it. My bad. I'll fix it next time I get a chance.

Your lack of proofreading killed Lucina! See guys. This is why grammar is important.