Invisible Ties | Fire Emblem Awakening (Novelization)

Chapter 22: Marth No More

Chrom

The river bubbled quietly, the approaching dawn bathing it in a lilac glow and shrouding the trees in purple mist. Marth halted a little way in front of it, then dragged the toe of her boot along the ground. She refused to meet Chrom's gaze. "I don't even know where to begin."

"I already know you're not 'Marth,' though I've nothing better to call you," Chrom said. "But I'll ask nothing of you that you don't wish to reveal. Whoever you are, Ylisse owes you a debt beyond repaying."

"Thank you." She raised her head slowly. "But I think I would prefer you to know the truth."

He was already starting to suspect what that truth was, even if it seemed like madness. "As you wish."

"Here." She crossed the distance between them and rearranged her fringe so that Chrom could finally see both of her eyes for the first time. "Look closely, and all will be made clear."

He looked into her eyes. Both were a vibrant purple. The pupil of the right eye was a normal, circular shape, as he had expected. He stared at it for a moment, plucking up the courage to accept the possibility of what he would have once called a witless untruth. Then he transferred his gaze all the way across the bridge of her nose to the eye on the left.

The pupil was clouded by the Brand of the Exalt.

All the little clues he'd been given but had never considered fell into place. There was the fighting style, the prophecy, and that sword. He looked down at it, sheathed snuggly against Marth's side. It was too good a blade to be a replica, and Falchion was never passed on until its previous owner had died.

"Lucina," he murmured.

It was strange, talking to a woman of twenty years who was also supposed to be his baby. She must have been eighteen at the most when he'd died. It was too young an age to lose a father and take on the burden he had carried.

"You deserved better from me than one sword and a world of troubles," he said. "I'm sorry."

Water rose over the Brand of the Exalt, smearing it beyond recognition. Then it spilled out and trickled down Lucina's cheek. A teardrop fell from her right eye, too, and turned into a stream. Her forehead creased as she tried to hold back the torrent, and she lowered her head, her breath shaking. She balled her hands into fists at her sides.

There it was. That strange feeling again, the one Chrom had felt when she'd been upset that night in the royal gardens. It was just starting to blossom somewhere below his heart.

Before he knew what he was doing, he reached for her cheek. He hesitated, hand wavering, and brushed her tears away.

She lifted her head, her eyes widening. He dropped his hand.

She stared at him in bewilderment for so long that he began to think he hadn't done the right thing. Then she suddenly flew into his arms. "Oh, Father!"

The feeling within him bloomed, spiralling around his heart and encapsulating it in a fierce feeling of protection. He wrapped one arm around her and lifted the other to stroke her hair as he glared out over the river. Somewhere in the future, his dead body lay. How could he have left his daughter and inflicted so much pain upon her?

They stood like that for some time until the purple mist grew lighter and Lucina quietened. She pulled her head away from his chest and looked up at him, gulping as a few stray tears trickled down her cheeks.

Chrom gave her a gentle smile. "Better, Lucina?"

"Yes, Father." She stepped back, letting her arms fall to her sides as she lowered her head again. She wrung her hands. "I'm sorry. It just all rushed back at once."