Invisible Ties | Fire Emblem Awakening (Novelization)

Chapter 21: Of Sacred Blood

Robin

We spent the rest of the day marching down to the Feroxi-Plegia border, and our messenger returned to us just as we were about to retire to our tents. The King of Plegia had agreed to meet with us, and although his choice of venue – Carrion Isle – did not sound promising, we went at first light.

It was near the border, and so we managed to arrive just as the sun was starting to sink towards the horizon again. We stopped at the end of a long bridge that led to our meeting place, and Chrom, Frederick, Sumia, and I dismounted our horses and pegasi. We left our steads on the mainland with the Shepherds, khans, and Feroxi army, and crossed by ourselves. We didn't want to appear too threatening, especially with the given history.

Carrion Isle seemed to hold nothing but a small castle nestled in a vast forest. It used the sea like a moat, and two large doors stood open for us at the other end of the bridge. Once we had passed through them, we followed a winding pathway among the trees until we reached the castle.

What the building lacked in size it made up for in gruesome architecture. Perhaps it was merely the fading light, but the stonework was not the customary Plegian sandy colour or grey like the castles of Regna Ferox. It was obsidian. Huge, roaring gargoyles in the shape of dragons were carved into every edge, and each of them had six eyes.

The doors to the castle were thrown open before we reached them, and we were shown into a dark and windowless hall by two Plegian servants. Only a few torches on the walls gave the room any light, and even then it was barely enough to see. A feeling of unease settled over us, and we all drew closer together.

Eventually, we heard a door creaking open at the far end of the room. My hand strayed towards my tome instinctively, and I was so tense that I jumped when the door slammed again. Chrom shifted away from me until there was enough space to safely draw a sword. His eyes, hooded by the darkness, hardened into a glare as he gave me one last look. This was a bad idea.

Heeled boots clicked halfway across the stone floor, then paused. One of the torches was lifted from the walls, and it danced across the darkness until it lit up a familiar face framed by pale pink hair. Gangrel's right-hand woman gave us a sickly sweet smile and then continued to saunter across the room. "Greetings, Prince Chrom. Plegia welcomes you."

"Aversa!" Chrom exclaimed.

Click, click, click. "What can I say? It seems fate has designs for me yet."

"You serve the new king, then?" Chrom asked. "This...Validar?"

Aversa halted in front of us, positioning the torch so that it was under her chin. It gave her face an eerie glow. "I do."

"They say he worships Grima." Frederick frowned.

"Why yes, of course he is Grimleal. We are both believers. My liege often says it was his faith that got him through, after Gangrel's passing." She shook her head and forced the corners of her mouth down. "It was a difficult time, but he kept order where there might have been chaos. We had meant to arrange an official visit to Ylisstol, but – ah, here is my lord now."

The unknown door had started to creak open again, and now it slammed shut once more. The King of Plegia did not wear heeled shoes and did not stop to carry a torch, so it was impossible to know where he was until he stepped into Aversa's light.

He was a distinctive-looking man. His hair was swept away from his face as if he was standing in a permanent gust of wind, revealing slanted, blood red eyes. A thin beard sprouted from the end of his pointed chin and stretched down to the neck of his sorcerer's robes.