Chapter Text
“This is not your… your fault…”
His body seized with pain, and each word, each breath, was a struggle. He was long acquainted with injury and inflicting fatality; he was well aware he was seconds from collapse. But he needed to speak first. Needed to reassure the man who stood before him.
The sharp pain burning at his side was nothing compared to the twisting ache in his chest as he stared at the face of his killer. Of his most trusted comrade. Of the love of his life.
“Promise me… you’ll escape from his place.”
His vision blurred as his legs began to sway beneath him.
“Please… go.”
He fell forward, and the world went dark, his last sight being Robin's wide eyed horror.
…
He blinked his eyes open only to immediately squeeze them shut. The light of the sun felt like the brightest thing he’d ever seen. Phantom pain piercing his side melted away to give room for a dull ache in the back of his head.
“Do you think he’s dead!? ” A voice chirped.
He felt a light kick against his leg.
“He might be.” A second voice mumbled.
He wasn’t dead, was he? Even if he felt he should’ve been after…
…after what?
Another stab of pain pushed into his head. He winced. Definitely not dead, then. Wincing further at the light, he forced his eyes open. The sudden brightness was briefly overwhelming, and he couldn’t make out a thing but the light. He fought back the urge to squeeze his eyes shut again.
“Ooo, if he’s dead, can I–”
He could almost make out two figures hovering above him, now more focused on speaking with each other than inspecting their presumed corpse.
“Until we know for sure that he’s dead we shouldn’t—” A third voice began to speak, joined by a third figure stepping between the other two. He cut himself off as he glanced down and presumably saw the man they were gathered around squinting up at him. “Oh! Hello! You are alive–!”
At first, the man appeared as a silhouette, features hidden by that too bright sun burning behind the trio. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the brightness, and the figure faded into sight. His face was almost shadowed by the heavy hood he wore, but strands of his silver-white hair escaped it, reflecting the sun like it was emitting light of its own. He regarded him with that lopsided smile, gentle, familiar, and he felt warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of it. His pounding heart calmed into a steady rhythm, adrenaline from whatever he had been doing before slipping away. Some part of him instinctively knew that if Robin was here, everything would be alright.
“–But you’ll catch your death if you sleep out here. Can you stand?”
Robin held out a gloved hand and he reached up to take it. With his other hand, Robin gripped his forearm and tugged him to his feet.
“Thank you, Robin.” He said, smiling as he released him from his grip.
Robin raised an eyebrow. “You know me?”
He stilled. The last remnants of whatever he had been dreaming were beginning to fade and he suddenly became very aware that he wasn’t sure he’d ever met the man he’d just addressed like a dear friend at all. “I’m… not sure. I’m sorry, your name just… just came to me?”
“Hm, alright.” Robin's brow furrowed in thought for a moment, before he continued speaking. “What brings you all the way out here?”
“I was… er,” He blinked, trying to collect his thoughts. His eyes darted from Robin's concerned face to the area around him, as he searched for any hint to what his answer was.
As he glanced around, it suddenly became clear that he didn’t even know where ‘out here’ was, nevermind what he was doing there. As he tried to push back against the sudden blank, he came to the horrifying realisation that he wasn’t sure who he even was. Before panic could seep in, another sharp pain burst through his skull and he hunched over, clutching his head.
“Hey, whoah!” Robin reached out and put a hand on his arm, steadying him. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” he said, gritting his teeth. “What… Where… Where are we?”
Robin's brow furrowed in concern.
"You don't know?"
Before he could respond, another voice called out from behind him.
“Did you get your memories stolen?!”
A boy bounced up to him, pushing past Robin and right up into his personal space. He stepped back, straightening up, and the boy followed him. He wore similar clothing to Robin, and had the same light hair, and had a bright smile on his face. He sounded like the owner of the first voice he had heard upon waking up.
Robin put a hand on the boy's shoulder to stop him from near tackling the man in excitement, and chewed his lip in thought.
“What do you think, Tharja?” Robin asked, turning to the third member of the group who had been lurking at the back. Her ink-black hair contrasted Robin and the boy's white. She must be the second person he’d heard. The one who had kicked him, presumably.
The dark haired woman, Tharja, took a few steps around the man as if inspecting him and hummed.
“He certainly reeks of dark magic, but I can’t sense any memory altering hexes I know of.”
“Hm. Henry?”
“Yep!” said the boy, who must be Henry. “Oh, maybe someone really hated you and made a whole new curse to make you forget everything! Or maybe you were hit on the head really hard and the magic is unrelated! Or maybe–-”
“Or maybe he’s lying .” Tharja hissed.
“I- I’m not!” He spluttered.
“Hm, yeah, could be!” Said Henry, ignoring his protests.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to call him a liar.” Robin cut in. “There’s no way to know for sure, and if he’s telling the truth we can’t just leave him out here.”
“You don’t think it’s weird? Why would he know your name and nothing else?” asked Tharja.
“I couldn’t say, and I never said it wasn’t strange. But when we came out here, we said we’d help anyone we came across who needed it, and look! We found someone who needs help. And if he does turn around and attack us, he’s outnumbered and we’re more than capable of taking care of ourselves.” Robin turned to face him. “Sorry about that. We’re in Plegia, near the border. Can you remember anything else besides me?”
“Not a lot.” He admitted. He pushed himself, ignoring the sharp sting that came with it. “I think… I was fighting someone and… I got hit with magic?”
“That would make sense.” Robin murmured. “Anything else?”
He shook his head.
“A name?”
“Only yours.”
“Alright.” Robin's eyes slipped shut, as if he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He took a breath. When his eyes reopened, there was a determination burning in them. “There’s a village a short ride from here, we should ask there and see if anyone recognises you. I don’t want you pushing too hard and hurting yourself again.”
He nodded.
“Henry, go scout the area and see if you can find anyone who looks like they could’ve been with our friend here.” Robin commanded.
“Yes sir!” Henry chirped as he ran off, and a few birds perched nearby took off after him.
“Tharja, you’re still with us. Let's go.”
Tharja nodded, and slipped behind Robin as the latter turned to walk off.
He followed, thankful that at least his legs still stood beneath him, as Robin led the way to a pair of wyverns that were saddled up nearby. Tharja strode up to one of them and began to mount it, while Robin turned back to look at him.
“Have you ridden a wyvern before?” He asked.
For all he knew, he could have his own wyvern waiting for him nearby, but in his current state he just shook his head.
“It’s alright, you’ll be riding with me anyway. I normally have Henry on the back anyway, so she can take two people.” Robin said, running his hand down the creature's neck.
Robin pulled himself onto the saddle with practised ease.
“Whenever you're ready.” He said.
He pulled himself up and positioned himself on the saddle behind Robin, chest pressed to his back. He tried to pull back to leave some distance between them, but this close up there was little he could do. Robin didn’t seem to mind, shooting him a reassuring smile before returning focus to the wyvern, but he could feel Tharja's glare burning into him.
“We’re going to take off now, I’ll try to keep her steady.” He said.
“Right.”
He watched over Robin's shoulder as he took hold of the reins and led the beast into the sky.
With a few strong beats of the things wings, they were airborne. The wind whipped through his hair and bit at his face as they took to the sky. From the way his stomach lurched at the ascent, he could now say he was sure that whoever he was, he wasn't someone who flew all that often.
“Is it common to travel like this here, in Plegia?” he asked.
“Over longer distances, yes. Wyverns are common since other mounts can’t always take the heat or the sand. Though, hexs that let you float just above the ground are popular among mages travelling on foot.” Robin said, voice thankfully audible over the wind in his ears. “But we’re from the capital, so wyverns are faster for us getting across the desert.”
“And the capital is far from here?”
“About a day and a half flight, far longer on foot.”
He tried to imagine spending that long like this. Their current riding situation was tight. He supposed it was easier to fit two people on the creature's back when the second was someone as small as Henry, rather than him.
The view, at least, was incredible. The sand seemed to give a golden sheen in the late afternoon sun. He squinted at the horizon in the direction they were heading. Robin had said this ride would be short, hopefully the village would come into sight soon. Instead what he saw caused his breath to catch in his throat.
Smoke curled over the horizon. And a lot of it.
“Gods, is that—”
“The village.” Robin finished, grim certainty in his tone. He leaned forwards, doing something to the beast they sat on that made it pick up in speed. As a small town engulfed in flames made its way into their line of sight, Robin noticeably tensed in front of him. He pulled the reins of the wyvern, leading the creature down to a landing. Tharja did the same, following them out of the sky.
“Robin–?” She began as they climbed down.
“That village is being attacked. We have to help.” Robin said.
“Of course.”
“You stay here,” Robin said. “Tharja, with me.”
“Hm, is it a good idea to leave him alone out here? For all we know he could be with the people who started this.”
Robin groaned.
“Is he on fire too? He can wait for now, can't he?”
Tharja grit her teeth. “Fine. Let's go.”
The two took off towards the village before he could react, let alone get a word of self defence in, leaving him standing alone in the desert. One of the wyverns huffed.
He was immediately restless. Robin had specifically told him to stay put, but part of him ached to take off after them. He knew logically why Robin has asked him to stay back. If there was fighting, which it seemed like there was, he would only be a liability trailing along behind them. Robin and Tharja seemed to know each other well, he wasn’t even sure if he knew how to fight. But if there were people he could be helping, why the hell wasn’t he?
On instinct, his hand closed around the hilt of the sword hanging by his side. He had barely even noticed that it was there, as if he was more used to having it than not.
He drew it from its scabbard to better look at what he was working with. If he could figure out how to use this, he would be able to help. The sentiment felt nostalgic, even if he couldn’t access the exact memory it was from. He could only hope his skills with the blade were similarly available.
He adjusted his grip on the sword and gave it a test swing. Immediately, he felt like he’d swung off all of the tension in his body. The blade felt like an extension of his limbs rather than something external. Whoever he’d been before now, he’d spent a lot of time using this thing.
He didn’t have time to ponder what other skills he might have, or what sort of life would’ve granted them to him. Because most urgently, he could help.
He took off towards the village, trusting the wyverns were better trained at staying put than he was.
…
When he made it to the village, it was just as bad as he’d dreaded. Half the buildings were caught in flames, and the people ran panicked through the streets, harassed further by members of what must be the group attacking.
Before he could think, he threw himself between a fallen woman and a man bringing down an axe. The man's eyes widened as he blocked the weapon with his own blade, clearly having not expected resistance. For the first time since first seeing Robin's face, he felt like he was in his element.
He pushed back, turning his enemies force against him and his attacker fell.
The woman breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you, sir.” She said, pulling herself up. “That was quite the rescue.”
“Get to safety, alright? I won’t let them follow you.”
She nodded.
“Wait! What do I call you?” She asked, and before he could figure out how to explain that he didn’t exactly know he found he was already speaking the answer.
“...Chrom.” He said. “Now, go!”
The woman nodded, and took off. And he, Chrom, whoever he was, pushed deeper into the skirmish.
Quickly, he spotted Tharja and Robin in amongst the fighting. They were hard to miss, with the way they were throwing spells.
Tharja was on the other side of the square, clutching a purple tome and throwing dark miasma at her foes. She was focused on her chanting, not even noticing Chrom’s arrival.
Robin was closer to where he’d entered and was taking cover behind an upturned cart. He seemed to be playing the defensive, sniping his foes with lighting before they could get close. As he scanned the battlefield, his gaze caught Chrom’s and his eyes widened slightly.
“You..!” He exclaimed, drawing the attention of two of the enemies towards him.
He raised his tome and aimed towards one of the two, while Chrom prepared to rush the other. He caught Robin's eye, and not a word needed to be said. With their unspoken signal, they both struck.
Chrom slashed his would-be attacker across the chest, and slid across the square to where Robin had finished firing off his spell.
“My name is Chrom, by the way.” He said, ducking behind the cart.
“Oh! You’re regaining memories?”
“Only my name, and how to fight, thankfully.”
“Right. That's good, that you can fight. The backup certainly doesn’t hurt our chances here. And at least we have something to call you now.” He smiled. “Your name’s Ylissean I believe. Could be a lead, though I suppose it’s hardly news, given your hair.”
Chrom’s free hand flew to his head, fingers gripping the locks that hung over the back of his neck. “My hair?”
“Well, blue hair is far more common over there than it is here.”
“My hair’s blue?”
Robin’s eyes darted around the square. “...We can discuss this later, let’s focus on finishing this up quickly"
Chrom nodded. “Right.”
He rose from his position, but wasn’t quite at full height yet. Chrom followed his lead and took the same stance.
“Watch my back, I’ll have yours. Let's try and regroup with Tharja.” He met his gaze again and Chrom couldn’t have pulled away even if he wanted to. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
His lips quirked up into a small smile. “Let’s go.”
Chrom focused on keeping Robin safe from attacks while he fired off spells. He kept Chrom safe too, as there was not a single enemy charging him from his blindspots.
By the time they reached Tharja, there weren't many enemies left in the square. Those remaining had fallen back to flank the man who seemed to be the group's leader as he fled deeper into the village.
“Are you unharmed?!” Tharja asked, hands on Robin's shoulders.
“Tharja, we’re fine. Don’t worry.” Robin reassured her, though Chrom got the feeling she wasn’t asking after both of their safety.
Her frenzied reaction made him think that their separation hadn’t been intentional, and that she might not have been in control of her position in the battle as he had assumed. Robin wasn’t lying then, about his backup being welcome. The thought filled him with a new surge of energy.
“Let’s finish this.” Robin said, steady voice breaking both Chrom and Tharja from the paths their minds were running on.
“Right.” Chrom agreed while Tharja nodded.
“They’re almost certainly leading us down an alleyway with the intention of ambushing us. Don’t let your guard down.”
They followed Robin's lead further into the village, and found their way to the leader of the group who seemed mildly frustrated at the situation.
“Damn!” He growled. “How hard is it to overwhelm a couple mages and…”
His eyes trailed across the battlefield, glancing over Chrom.
“Who the hell are you?”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m just here to protect these people.”
The man sneered.
“Alright then, hero. Let's get this over with."
He raised his weapon and charged. Chrom prepared to parry the blow, but was surprised as the man slipped past him to bring down a blow on Robin instead. Before Chrom could react, Robin had blocked the attack with a blade of his own. It was a jagged thing, sparking with magic as he pushed back with it.
“Checkmate.” Robin hissed, as he created a ball of lightning in his free hand. Chrom took the cue, and moved in to attack, taking some of the man's attention off of Robin. Tharja, he noted, was playing defense behind them, keeping the rest of the group from aiding their leader.
It wasn’t a hard battle, all things considered. They quickly overwhelmed him, and his group scattered as they saw their leader fall.
When silence covered the streets, Robin exhaled.
“Were those ours or Ylisses this time?” He asked, sheathing his sword.
Tharja followed suit, slamming her tome shut and tucking it under her arm. “Does it matter?”
“They were tougher than the average brigands we run into around here, and most of them didn’t seem particularly interested in pillaging.” Robin explained. “As if they had some other goal…”
“I see…” Tharja muttered. “I could search the bodies?”
Robin waved a hand. “Go ahead.”
Tharja nodded, and knelt down beside the man they’d just run through. Robin moved to lean against one of the walls, and Chrom’s gaze followed him.
He seemed tired, now that the heat of battle had worn off. Chrom had half a mind to ask if he could inspect him for injuries, but he’d surely be better off with an actual healer if that was the case. Surely the village had one of those?
Finally putting away his own weapon, Chrom walked to stand beside him. He regarded him with a nod as he did.
“So… Ylisse?” Chrom asked. His conversation with Tharja made the second time he’d mentioned something like that, and Chrom was still none the wiser to its meaning.
“Our eastern neighbours.” Robin explained. “We don’t have the friendliest history, so though it’s technically peacetime, there's still frequent border skirmishes.”
Tharja scoffed from where she was kneeling, hands still in their fallen foes pockets. “That's putting it kindly. It’s always the civilians with no stake in any war that suffer for it. And of course bandits from either country are more than happy to harass the villagers when their defences are already weakened. And there’s not a thing they can do about it.”
Chrom grimaced. “Are things truly so dire?”
“They have our patrols to look out for them, I suppose. Though it’s not always enough.” He gestured at their burnt surroundings. “I’ve heard Ylisse has a similar force around their border towns, but I imagine it's much the same. We just don’t have enough people.”
“I see…” Chrom murmured, eyes glazing across the village.
Robin looked Chrom up and down and hummed.
“You’re rather handy with a blade though, aren’t you?” He said, eyes lit up with thought.
“Robin?” Tharja's head shot up.
Chrom nodded.
“Have you ever thought about a career in soldiering?”
“Robin? Robin, no.” Tharja clambered to her feet and grabbed Robin’s shoulders again, almost hissing into her ear.
“Trustworthy allies are in short supply,” Robin continued, placing a hand on Tharja's arm. “We could always use someone like him.”
“You have no proof he’s trustworthy! Just because he can swing a sword around well?”
“He risked himself to save lives today. Ours included. Right now, it’s hard to ask for anything more than that.”
Tharja grumbled and kept her eyes locked on Chrom, but didn’t say anything else against him.
“What do you say? Until we find out who you are, we’d love to have you.”
Chrom thought about it. He truly had no leads on who he was, and here was Robin offering him not only his aid in solving the mystery, but an opening at building a new life. With his skillset, he was most likely going to end up doing mercenary work for bed and board anyway, he probably was already. If he could do that and stay with the one person in the world he knew…
“I accept.” He smiled. “I’m looking forward to working together.”
Robin grinned. “Likewise.”
“Hey! You! Chrom?” Came a shout.
The trio turned their heads towards the source, and Chrom recognised the woman he had encountered upon entering the village standing before him.
“Ah! Do you know him?” Robin asked.
“We only just met, he got me out of a bad situation earlier.”
Robin visibly deflated at the loss of a lead, but either the woman didn’t notice or just didn’t care.
“I just wanted to say thank you for that. To all three of you, I suppose.”
“I’m just glad I could help.” Chrom admitted, and Robin nodded in agreement.
“You saved my life and my wares. If there's anything I can do to thank you, please let us know.” The woman smiled.
“Your wares? You’re a merchant?”
The woman nodded. “Yep! And you three look like travellers! If you need to restock on supplies, I can see about getting you a special discount.”
“Actually, shouldn’t we be going?” Tharja said, walking over. “It’s getting late.”
Robin hummed.
“Tharja’s right. Thank you, though, we do appreciate the offer.”
“If you need a place to stay tonight, I'm sure the village would gladly host you.”
“We can make camp when it gets dark, but we do need to be back in the capital tomorrow.”
The woman nodded.
“By all means, don’t let me keep you then. Safe travels!” She glanced at Robin's coat. “Oh, er, and may Grima watch over you.”
Robin tensed, but recovered quickly.
“You as well, Milady.”
Grima...
The word – the name? – sent a sharp pain down through Chrom’s head, though thankfully not enough for him to double over. It must be something he’s familiar with, then. He should ask Robin about it later.
As the woman walked off, Robin turned back to Tharja and Chrom.
“Let’s get going, we should at least give ourselves the time to find a decent camp site before night falls.”
As they walked back to where they had left their mounts, Chrom felt that same instinctual feeling of safety from when he first saw Robin settle in his chest. It was strange, but it fought back the panic he might otherwise be facing. Following Robin had already regained him the sense of identity he had lost upon waking, he could only hope further answers could be found at his side.