Children of the Apocalypse (Fire Emblem Awakening)

Owain

Owain was marching with the troops, headed for their next battle. Although it seemed like regular Risen ahead, he couldn't help but feel nervous. Maybe it was because Lucina lost her parents only a few days ago. He felt pity towards his cousin. She was marching right behind him with a somber look, her eyes always fixated on her feet. He admired the fact, though, that she was still willing to fight back. It also made him nervous about losing his own parents, so during this battle, he promised himself to protect his parents- no matter what.

Thinking about this, his pace became slower, and eventually, he was standing next to Lucina.

"Hello, Lucina," he said to her.

"Hello," she replied in a quiet tone.

"Um... you have my pity for what happened to your-"

"It's fine." Her tone became stiff and serious which caught Owain off-guard.

"Alright. Just know that my services are at your disposal, if you need them."

"Alright."

Owain decided to pick up his pace, leaving Lucina behind. Eventually, the troops were near to facing the Risen. Memories came back to Owain from when the castle was ambushed: their dark, grotesque faces with glowing red eyes...

It made him feel uneasy, to say the least. His uneasiness wore off when Morgan was devising their plan of attack. Morgan's [mother/father] disappeared when Ylisstol was attacked, leaving [him/her] with the role of tactician. According to the plan, Owain would be near his father, but his mother was on the other side of the battlefield.

Dammit! Owain thought. His mother had always been more of a healer than a fighter. Luckily, more troops were stationed by his mother.

Hopefully, they can protect her...

There is it was again: the uneasiness. That's really all he's been feeling since the Risen appeared.

Once Morgan finished detailing the strategy, the troops got into formation. Over his shoulder, Owain could see his father, looking battle-ready as always. Owain drew his sword and tried to mimic his father's form. The Risen's  troop-size looked lacking, especially compared to number of troops Ylisse had.

He heard metal clashing, and after that, he couldn't remember much, mostly just slaying Risen. However, he could mostly remember what he saw towards the end of the battle.

It was his father, laying on the ground. There were about four arrows in his back, and it appeared that he had been impaled. Owain stood in absolute shock and mortification. A lump formed in his throat as he fell to the ground near his father. His father was wincing and groaning in pain. Blood was being coughed off. Owain couldn't think. Couldn't speak. Couldn't do anything.

No... I have to do something...

He called out his mother's name. She didn't come. It was no use. No healers were stationed on this side of the battlefield. His father coughed up more blood. He called out again- this time for any help.

"O-Owain..." his father whispered. "P-plea-"He was interrupted by another wave of blood being coughed out. He was looking at Owain, but there was no more coughing. No more wincing. No more groaning. Nothing.

Owain clenched his shaking fist and furiously pounded it against the ground, the stinging pain of tears prominent on his cheeks. He cried out in pain. He didn't care who loud he was. Some troops- including his mother- hurried over to him.

He noted the expression the mother had on her face: heartbreak was the only word to describe it. She slowly sat down next Owain. Soldiers picked up his father's body and carried it to a carriage. On the march back, Owain and his mother walked hand-in-hand, not saying a word to each other. His mother was softly sobbing, but he could tell she didn't want people to pity her.

It started raining, as if the gods knew of their loss.