Chapter XXV: Act 5 part 2 - Valm Preparation II and the Rescue of Sarai
The morning sun had barely crested the horizon when Robin called a smaller tactical meeting, gathering only those who would be essential for the rescue mission. The tent was more intimate than the previous night's war council, but the tension was no less palpable.
"Intelligence suggests Sarai is being held in a fortified Grimleal encampment near the Valmese border," Robin began, his fingers tracing routes on the map. "The location is strategic – close enough to Valm proper that Walhart's forces could reach it, but isolated enough that a rescue attempt would be... complicated."
Cordelia leaned over the map, her tactical eye assessing the terrain. "Pegasus knights could provide aerial reconnaissance, but if the Grimleal have dark mages, they'll be watching the skies."
"Which is why we need a multi-pronged approach," Morgan interjected, his youthful enthusiasm tempered by the gravity of the situation. His quill was already moving across parchment, sketching potential formations. "If we can draw their attention in one direction..."
"We strike from another," Severa finished, nodding approvingly at her brother. "Basic misdirection, but effective if executed properly."
Roy stood with his arms crossed, his orange eyes fixed on the map. The cerulean and lavender streaks in his hair seemed to shimmer with barely contained energy. "My sister is strong," he said quietly, "but the Grimleal will be using her. Dark elven magical potential makes us... valuable to those who worship Grima."
Odyn placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, his own dark blue hair falling across his face. "Which is exactly why we're bringing her home. Today."
Ricken shifted nervously, clutching his tome. Despite his youth, his eyes held a determination that hadn't been there before. "What can I do? I know I'm not as experienced as the rest of you, but—"
"You're coming with us," Robin interrupted firmly. "Your magical abilities will be crucial, and..." he exchanged a meaningful look with Cordelia, "sometimes the bonds we're meant to forge give us strength we didn't know we had."
Chrom entered the tent with Sybyrh at his side, the dark elven queen's presence commanding immediate attention. Her orange eyes swept across the gathered Shepherds with an intensity that made even seasoned warriors straighten.
"I will not sit idle while my sister-in-law remains captive," Sybyrh declared, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Roy, Odyn – you know the protocols for rescuing captured dark elves from hostile forces. We move swiftly, we move decisively, and we leave no one behind."
"Your Majesty," Frederick interjected respectfully, "with all due respect, having both the Exalt and his queen on a rescue mission of this nature—"
"Is non-negotiable," Chrom finished, his tone brooking no argument despite the gentle smile he gave his loyal knight. "Frederick, you of all people should understand. This is family."
The great knight sighed but nodded, already mentally adjusting the mission parameters to account for protecting both the Exalt and the Queen.
Lucina stepped forward, Falchion at her hip. "In our timeline, Aunt Sarai's rescue came much later, and at great cost." She looked at her parents, then at her uncles. "We can change that here. We can save her before the Grimleal can use her power to fuel their dark rituals."
"The Risen forces guarding her will be formidable," Nah added, her dragon crest faintly glowing with agitation. "But they're still just puppets. We can cut through them."
"It's not just the Risen I'm worried about," Morgan said, his tactical mind working through possibilities. "The Grimleal will have anticipated a rescue attempt. They'll have contingencies, traps..."
"Let them," Vaike declared, cracking his knuckles. "Teach ain't afraid of no dark magic cultists!"
Khanna placed a calming hand on his arm, though her eyes held their own steel. "Courage is admirable, but we must be smart about this. The Grimleal are dangerous because they're fanatical, not because they're stupid."
Robin nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Which is why our approach needs to be calculated." He turned to the gathered group. "We'll split into three teams. Team one, led by Chrom and Sybyrh, will be our frontal assault – drawing the Grimleal's attention and engaging their main forces."
"Team two," Cordelia continued seamlessly, years of partnership making her and Robin's tactical coordination effortless, "will be our aerial unit. Sumia, myself, and our most skilled pegasus knights will provide support from above and watch for reinforcements."
"And team three," Robin concluded, "will be our extraction team. Small, fast, and focused entirely on reaching Sarai and getting her out."
Ricken's heart pounded as he realized what that meant. "I should be on the extraction team."
Roy studied the young mage for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Yes. You should." He turned to Robin. "I'll lead the extraction team. Odyn, you're with me. Ricken, you're coming too. We'll need your offensive magic."
"I'm going as well," Morgan announced, earning a sharp look from Severa.
"Like hell you are," his sister snapped. "Father needs you helping coordinate the main assault."
"Father has other tacticians," Morgan countered calmly. "And I know the layout of Grimleal encampments from our timeline. I can get us in and out faster."
Severa's jaw clenched, but she couldn't argue with the logic. "Fine. But you stay behind Roy and Odyn. No heroics."
"I'll go too," Yukihime volunteered. "My healing abilities could be crucial if Sarai's been injured."
Nah stepped forward. "And you'll need someone who can transform if things get desperate. Dragon form breaks through a lot of obstacles."
Robin considered the proposed team, his tactical mind weighing risks and benefits. Finally, he nodded. "Roy leads. Odyn, Morgan, Ricken, Yukihime, and Nah round out the extraction team. The rest of us handle the diversion and support."
"When do we move?" Chrom asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
"Noon," Robin replied. "We'll use the sun's position to our advantage – harder for sentries to spot aerial approaches, and the heat will make the Risen more sluggish."
Sybyrh's lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Then let us prepare. The Grimleal are about to learn what happens when they take a dark elf of noble blood captive."
The next few hours passed in a flurry of preparation. Weapons were sharpened, armor checked, and strategies rehearsed. In a quiet corner of the camp, Roy pulled Ricken aside, his expression serious but not unkind.
"Listen carefully, young one," the dark elf began. "When we find Sarai, she may not be... herself. The Grimleal might have tried to break her will, to corrupt her magic." His orange eyes held painful knowledge. "Dark elves are particularly susceptible to certain types of dark magic because of our natural affinity for it."
Ricken swallowed hard but met Roy's gaze steadily. "What do I do if that happens?"
"You remind her who she is," Roy said simply. "Not with words – words can be twisted. But with your magic. Show her pure magical energy, untainted by darkness. Let her remember what clean magic feels like." He paused. "In our timeline, that's what you did. Your magical signature became her anchor when the darkness tried to claim her."
The young mage's eyes widened. "I... I can do that?"
"You already have the ability," Roy assured him. "Every mage's magical signature is unique, like a fingerprint. Sarai will recognize yours, even if she doesn't remember why." He placed a hand on Ricken's shoulder. "Trust yourself. Trust your magic. And trust that some bonds transcend even dark magic's corruption."
Nearby, Morgan was having his own pre-mission conversation with his father. Robin had pulled him aside, his expression torn between tactical necessity and paternal concern.
"You understand the risks," Robin said quietly. It wasn't a question.
"I do," Morgan replied. "But I also understand what's at stake. In our timeline, Aunt Sarai's capture was the beginning of the Grimleal's rise to power. They used her magic to fuel their rituals, to strengthen their Risen forces." His young face was grave beyond his years. "We can't let that happen here."
Robin studied his son – this strange gift from a terrible future, this piece of tomorrow that had come back to save yesterday. "You've become quite the tactician," he said, pride evident in his voice.
Morgan smiled. "I had a good teacher. Several, actually." He looked at his father seriously. "We're going to win this, Father. Not just this battle – all of it. We're going to save you from Grima, save everyone, and give this world the future it deserves."
"No pressure then," Robin said wryly, but he pulled his son into a brief embrace. "Come back safe. Your mother would kill me if anything happened to you."
"Mother would kill you if she knew you were letting me go at all," Morgan pointed out with a grin.
"Which is why we're not telling her until after," Robin agreed conspiratorially.
As noon approached, the teams assembled at their designated positions. The extraction team gathered in the shadow of a rocky outcropping, final checks being made on equipment and supplies.
Roy addressed his small group, his voice low and intense. "Remember – speed and stealth until we can't maintain them, then overwhelming force. Odyn and I will handle any dark elven guards they might have turned. Morgan, you navigate. Ricken, you're our offensive magic specialist. Yukihime, you keep everyone alive. Nah, you're our insurance policy if things go sideways."
"And if we encounter the Risen?" Nah asked, her hand already on the dragonstone at her belt.
"We go through them," Odyn answered simply, his hand on his sword. "Risen are already dead. We're just helping them remember that."
In the distance, they could hear Chrom's voice rallying the main assault team. The Exalt's presence was like a beacon, drawing all attention exactly as planned. Sybyrh stood beside her husband, her dark elven magic already beginning to crackle around her fingertips in anticipation.
"Three minutes," Morgan whispered, consulting the small timepiece he'd borrowed from his father. "Then the aerial team makes their approach, and that's our signal."
The group fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Ricken's hands trembled slightly on his tome, but his eyes remained fixed on the Grimleal encampment in the distance. Somewhere in there was a woman he'd never met, but who the future insisted was meant to be his wife. The thought was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.
Yukihime checked her healing staves one final time, her mind on the mother she'd just helped find happiness with her father. Family, she thought. That's what this is all about. Saving family we haven't even met yet.
"Two minutes," Morgan breathed.
Roy and Odyn stood like twin statues, their dark elven heritage evident in their predatory stillness. But where some might see menace, their small team saw protection. These were warriors who would tear through an army to save their sister.
Above them, they heard the distant cry of pegasi taking flight. The aerial team was moving into position.
"One minute."
Nah's dragon crest began to glow softly, her power rising in response to her anticipation. This was what they'd come back to prevent – powerful people being captured and used by the Grimleal, their abilities twisted to serve Grima's dark purpose.
Not this time, she thought fiercely. This time we save them.
"Thirty seconds."
The sound of battle erupted from the main gate as Chrom's team engaged the Grimleal forces. Shouts, the clash of steel, the crackle of magic – all designed to pull every defender away from the back of the compound.
"Go," Roy commanded.
The extraction team moved as one, shadows racing across the broken ground toward the encampment's rear wall. Their moment had come. Sarai's rescue – and perhaps the first true victory against the dark future they'd all come back to prevent – was at hand.
The rear wall of the Grimleal encampment loomed before them, constructed of dark stone that seemed to absorb rather than reflect light. Roy signaled for the team to halt, his orange eyes scanning for guards. The sounds of battle from the front gate echoed across the compound – Chrom's diversion was working perfectly.
"Two sentries on the wall," Odyn whispered, his keen dark elven vision picking out figures in the shadows. "Both human. Likely Grimleal acolytes rather than Risen."
Morgan consulted his mental map of similar encampments from their timeline. "There should be a drainage grate about ten paces to our left. It'll lead directly into the lower levels where they'd keep high-value prisoners."
"You're certain?" Roy asked, though his tone suggested he already trusted the young tactician's assessment.
"In our timeline, the Grimleal used the same basic design for all their major holding facilities," Morgan confirmed. "They're fanatical, but they're also predictable in their architecture."
Nah crept forward, her smaller frame allowing her to move with surprising stealth. Within moments, she'd located the grate Morgan described. "Here," she hissed softly. "But it's sealed with some kind of dark magic ward."
Yukihime moved to examine it, her healing magic giving her sensitivity to magical auras. "It's designed to alert them if anyone tries to break through physically." She looked back at Roy. "We'll need to dispel it carefully."
"Let me," Ricken said, surprising everyone. At their questioning looks, he explained, "I've been studying magical wards since I joined the Shepherds. Frederick insisted after I accidentally triggered three traps in the same week." His cheeks flushed at the memory, but his hands were steady as he approached the grate.
The young mage knelt beside the ward, his tome open to a specific page. He whispered an incantation, his fingers tracing patterns in the air that seemed to unravel the dark magic thread by thread. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the concentration required, but after several tense minutes, the ward dissipated with barely a whisper.
"Well done," Roy said approvingly, and Ricken's face lit up with pride.
Odyn made short work of the physical lock on the grate, and one by one, the team descended into the darkness below. The smell hit them immediately – a mixture of decay, dark magic, and something else Ricken couldn't quite identify but that made his stomach turn.
"Risen have been through here recently," Odyn observed, his nose wrinkling. "But they've moved on. Probably called to defend the main gate."
The corridor they found themselves in was narrow and damp, lit by sputtering torches that cast more shadow than light. Morgan took point with Roy, navigating by memory and instinct through the twisting passages.
"The holding cells should be in the central chamber," Morgan whispered. "But there will be guards. The Grimleal never leave their 'special' prisoners unattended."
As if on cue, they rounded a corner and came face-to-face with two Grimleal dark mages. For a split second, everyone froze. Then chaos erupted.
"Intruders!" one of the dark mages shrieked, raising his tome to cast.
But Odyn was faster. The dark elf moved with inhuman speed, his blade singing through the air to strike the mage's tome from his hands. Roy was right behind him, his own sword flashing in the torchlight as he engaged the second mage.
Ricken reacted on pure instinct, his offensive magic surging forth in a blast of pure elemental force that sent both dark mages sprawling. The young mage stood there, slightly stunned by his own power.
"No time to admire your work," Morgan urged, already moving forward. "That noise will bring more."
They raced down the corridor, the sounds of approaching footsteps echoing from multiple directions. Yukihime's healing staff glowed softly, ready to mend any injuries, while Nah's hand stayed on her dragonstone, prepared to transform at a moment's notice.
The central chamber opened before them, and there, in the middle of a ritual circle drawn in what looked disturbingly like blood, was Sarai.
Ricken's breath caught in his throat. Even in captivity, even bound by dark magic chains, she was striking. Her dark skin seemed to glow in the dim light, her pointed ears marked her as dark elven nobility, and her orange eyes – currently unfocused and glazed – held depths he couldn't begin to fathom. Her hair, black like her brothers' but without their colored streaks, cascaded around her shoulders.
But it was the dark magic seeping into her from the ritual circle that made his heart clench with fear and rage.
"They're using her as a conduit," Roy snarled, his usual calm demeanor shattering at the sight of his sister's suffering. "Those bastards are channeling her magical power to fuel their dark rituals."
"We need to break the circle," Yukihime said urgently. "But if we disrupt it incorrectly, the backlash could kill her."
"Then we do it correctly," Morgan stated, his tactical mind already analyzing the circle's structure. "Ricken, can you sense the flow of the magic?"
The young mage nodded, forcing himself to focus past his emotional reaction. He could feel it – the way the dark magic was being pulled from Sarai, twisted and corrupted, then sent flowing outward to power gods-knew-what dark purposes.
"There are four anchoring points," Ricken observed, his magical training coming to the fore. "If we strike them simultaneously, the circle should collapse without harming her."
"Risen incoming!" Nah called out, and indeed, the shambling forms of the undead were pouring into the chamber from multiple entrances.
"Odyn, Nah – hold them off," Roy commanded. "Morgan, help them. Yukihime, Ricken, and I will break the circle."
Odyn's blade sang as he met the first wave of Risen, his dark elven grace making the undead warriors seem clumsy by comparison. Nah transformed in a flash of light, her dragon form's tail sweeping three Risen off their feet in one powerful swing. Morgan's tactical spells provided support, picking off Risen that tried to flank their position.
Meanwhile, Roy positioned himself at one of the anchor points, his hand glowing with dark elven magic. "Yukihime, take the northern point. Ricken, the eastern. I'll handle the western. On my mark, we strike together."
Ricken moved to his designated position, his heart pounding. Up close, he could see Sarai more clearly – the way her body trembled from the strain of the dark magic, the way her breathing was shallow and labored. Her eyes flickered toward him for just a moment, and he could have sworn he saw recognition there, impossible as that should be.
"Now!" Roy commanded.
Three different magical energies struck the anchor points simultaneously. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the ritual circle exploded outward in a wave of dissipating dark magic, the chains binding Sarai shattering like glass.
The dark elven woman collapsed, but Ricken was there, catching her before she hit the ground. The moment their skin made contact, he felt it – a surge of magical connection, like two frequencies perfectly in tune with each other. Sarai's eyes opened fully, clearing from their glazed state, and she looked directly at him.
"You..." she breathed, her voice hoarse from disuse but unmistakably musical. "I know your magic. I've felt it in my dreams."
Ricken's eyes widened. "That's impossible. We've never met."
"Some bonds transcend time," Sarai whispered, echoing Roy's earlier words. Her hand came up weakly to touch Ricken's face. "Little mage. You came for me."
"We need to move!" Odyn shouted, dispatching another Risen. "More are coming, and these ones are daemon-controlled!"
Indeed, the next wave of Risen that poured into the chamber moved with disturbing coordination and intelligence. These weren't mindless undead – these were weapons wielded by a dark consciousness.
Roy moved to his sister's side, his eyes scanning her for injuries. "Can you walk?"
"With help," Sarai managed, though her legs trembled as Ricken helped her stand. The young mage found himself supporting most of her weight, his face burning at the intimate contact but his determination unwavering.
"Nah, clear us a path!" Roy commanded. "We're leaving now!"
The dragon roared, her massive form smashing through the Risen ranks and creating an opening. The extraction team moved as one, Ricken half-carrying Sarai as they raced back through the corridors.
Behind them, they could hear Grimleal priests shouting orders, the sound of more Risen being mobilized. The alarm had well and truly been raised.
"Left here!" Morgan called out, navigating them back toward the drainage grate. "Thirty seconds to the exit!"
But as they rounded the final corner, their path was blocked by a figure that made even Roy pause. A Grimleal priest stood before them, but this was no ordinary acolyte. Dark magic rolled off him in waves, and his eyes glowed with an unnatural purple light.
"You think you can simply walk away with our prize?" the priest hissed. "The dark elven princess's magic belongs to Grima now!"
"Like hell it does," Ricken snarled, surprising himself with the vehemence in his voice. He gently pushed Sarai toward Yukihime, then stepped forward, his tome blazing with power. "She belongs to no one. And she's coming home with us."
The Grimleal priest laughed, raising his hands to cast. But before he could complete the spell, Ricken's magic struck him with a force that shocked everyone present. The blast of pure elemental energy sent the priest flying backward, his own dark magic dispersing like smoke.
For a moment, everyone stared at Ricken. The young mage stood there, his tome still glowing, his chest heaving with emotion and exertion. The boy who had been so self-conscious about his youth and inexperience had just felled a Grimleal priest with a single spell.
"Ricken..." Sarai breathed from where Yukihime supported her, her orange eyes wide with wonder and something else – recognition, perhaps, or the beginning of something deeper.
"We analyze the impressive magic display later," Odyn said, but there was approval in his voice. "Move!"
They scrambled up through the drainage grate, emerging into the fading afternoon light. The sounds of battle had diminished from the front gate – Chrom's team must have accomplished their diversionary objective.
Above them, Cordelia's pegasus swooped down, the pegasus knight's eyes widening at the sight of Sarai. "We have our target! All teams, fall back to the rendezvous point!"
The extraction team ran, Nah transforming back to human form to help support Sarai's other side. Ricken stayed close, his magic at the ready in case of pursuit. Behind them, the Grimleal encampment erupted into chaos as they realized their prisoner had been freed.
They met Chrom's team at the designated rendezvous point, where the Exalt and his forces had successfully withdrawn from their diversionary assault. Sybyrh's eyes immediately found her sister-in-law, and the dark elven queen was at Sarai's side in an instant.
"Sister," Sybyrh said softly, her usual commanding tone gentled by concern. "You're safe now."
Sarai managed a weak smile. "Thanks to them." Her eyes found Ricken's again. "Thanks to him."
Roy and Odyn flanked their sister protectively as Yukihime began a more thorough healing assessment. The dark magic corruption would take time to fully purge, but Sarai was stable and free.
Chrom approached Robin, who was already analyzing their success with his tactical mind. "Casualties?"
"Minimal. A few injuries, nothing critical. The diversion worked perfectly." Robin's eyes found Morgan, and he gave his son a subtle nod of approval.
As the Shepherds began their withdrawal back to camp, Ricken found himself walking beside Sarai, who insisted on walking despite her weakened state. She leaned on him more heavily than perhaps strictly necessary, and the young mage didn't complain.
"In another life," Sarai said quietly, her voice meant only for him, "did we...?"
"According to those who came from the future," Ricken answered honestly, "we married. Had a child together."
Sarai was silent for a moment, processing this. Then she looked at him, really looked at him, and Ricken felt his breath catch at the intensity in her orange eyes.
"I can see why I chose you," she said simply. "Not because of your magic, though that spell you cast was extraordinary. But because you risked everything to save someone you'd never even met. Because when that priest threatened me, you didn't hesitate." She smiled softly. "That kind of heart is worth more than all the magical power in the world."
Ricken felt his face flush crimson, but he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his features. "I meant what I said back there. You deserve to be free to make your own choices. Even if that means choosing differently this time."
"Perhaps," Sarai mused, her hand tightening on his arm. "But something tells me my choice will be the same. Some things, young mage, are simply meant to be."
Back at camp that evening, the mood was celebratory. The rescue had been a complete success – Sarai was free, the Grimleal had been dealt a significant blow, and the Shepherds had proven they could strike at their enemies even in fortified positions.
In the medical tent, Yukihime finished her final healing assessment of Sarai while Libra assisted with purging the last traces of dark magic corruption.
"You'll need rest," Yukihime advised. "The dark magic went deep. It will take a few days before you're back to full strength."
"I've endured worse," Sarai said, though she didn't refuse when a bed was prepared for her. "Though I confess, being used as a magical battery was not an experience I wish to repeat."
Roy, Odyn, and Sybyrh all sat nearby, unwilling to leave their sister's side now that they'd gotten her back. But Sarai's eyes kept drifting to the tent entrance, where Ricken was lurking, clearly wanting to check on her but uncertain if he'd be welcome.
"Oh for Naga's sake," Sarai finally called out, "young mage, stop hovering outside and come in already. You helped rescue me – the least I can do is thank you properly."
Ricken entered sheepishly, very aware of the three sets of dark elven eyes now fixed on him. Roy's were amused, Odyn's were assessing, and Sybyrh's were... calculating.
"So," Sybyrh said, her tone light but her eyes sharp, "you're the one who made such an impression on my sister-in-law. The young mage who single-handedly dropped a Grimleal priest."
"I, uh, I just did what anyone would do," Ricken stammered.
"Most people would have run," Sarai countered softly. "You stood your ground and fought. For me. A stranger."
"Not exactly a stranger," Ricken admitted. "I mean, I know we haven't met in this timeline, but knowing that in another future we..." He trailed off, his face burning.
Sarai laughed, a sound like silver bells that made Ricken's heart skip. "Relax, little mage. You've proven yourself today. The rest... well, we have time to figure that out."
Roy stood, gesturing for Odyn and Sybyrh to follow him out. "Come. Our sister needs rest, and I believe these two have things to discuss."
Once they were alone, Sarai patted the space beside her bed. Ricken sat gingerly, very conscious of propriety but unable to resist her invitation.
"Tell me about our child," Sarai said softly. "The one we haven't had yet. The one who came back from a dark future."
And so Ricken did, sharing what little he knew about the child he'd never met but who represented a future he now desperately wanted. Sarai listened, her orange eyes never leaving his face, and as the evening deepened into night, neither of them noticed the knowing smiles of their friends and family passing by the tent.
Some bonds, it seemed, really were meant to be – regardless of timeline.
Gathering the Lost Children - Part 1
The morning sun cast long shadows across the Shepherd encampment as preparations began for the next phase of their mission. With Sarai safely recovered and her strength gradually returning, attention turned to locating the remaining future children who had yet to join their cause. Chief among these was Laurent, the son of Virion and Miriel, whose analytical abilities would prove invaluable in the conflicts ahead.
Ricken found himself in the tactical tent once again, though his attention was divided between Robin's strategic briefings and the awareness that Sarai had entered the space behind him. The dark elven woman had insisted on attending the planning sessions despite Yukihime's recommendations for continued rest, arguing that she could contribute intelligence about Valmese territory from her time in captivity.
The young mage felt his face warm as he sensed her presence. The past few days since her rescue had been a strange mixture of exhilaration and mortification. The woman who stood behind him was not merely beautiful in an abstract sense, but possessed the kind of regal bearing and otherworldly grace that seemed entirely out of reach for someone of his youth and relative inexperience. That the future insisted they were meant to be together remained a concept he struggled to fully accept, even as his heart raced whenever she was near.
Robin spread a new map across the table, this one detailing the region between Ylisse and Valm proper. "Intelligence suggests Laurent was last seen in this area," he indicated a forested region near the border. "He's been operating independently, gathering information and staying ahead of Risen patrols."
"That sounds like Miriel's son," the mage herself observed, adjusting her glasses with characteristic precision. "A methodical approach to survival and information gathering would be consistent with analytical tendencies."
Virion nodded in agreement, though concern shadowed his usually jovial expression. "Indeed. However, operating alone in hostile territory presents significant risks, regardless of one's tactical acumen."
"Which is why we move quickly," Chrom interjected. "The longer any of the future children remain isolated, the greater the danger they face."
Sarai stepped forward, moving to stand beside Ricken at the table. The young mage felt his breath catch as her arm brushed against his, though she seemed not to notice the effect her proximity had on him. "The Grimleal have increased their activity in that region," she said, her voice carrying the musical quality that characterized dark elven speech. "During my captivity, I overheard discussions of targeting individuals with unique magical signatures. Laurent's combination of tactical magic and archery would make him a valuable acquisition for their purposes."
Morgan leaned forward, his youthful face serious beyond his years. "In our timeline, Laurent was captured briefly before we managed to extract him. The experience left him even more cautious and analytical than before." He glanced at his parents. "We cannot allow that to happen here."
"Then we will not," Robin stated with finality. "We'll deploy a search team immediately. Morgan, you'll come with me given your knowledge of Laurent's likely patterns. Miriel, Virion, your presence may help convince him of our legitimacy."
"I should accompany the team as well," Sarai interjected, earning sharp looks from her brothers. "Before you object, consider that my dark elven magic will be useful for detecting Grimleal wards and traps. They used enough of them in my own captivity for me to recognize their signatures."
Sybyrh's orange eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Your reasoning is sound, but you have not yet fully recovered your strength."
"I am sufficiently recovered to contribute," Sarai countered with a hint of the steel that ran through her family line. "And sitting idle while others face danger has never suited my temperament."
Ricken found himself speaking before he had fully considered the implications. "If Sarai is going, then I should as well. Our magical signatures work well in tandem, and if the Grimleal are actively hunting mages..." He trailed off, suddenly aware that every eye in the tent had turned toward him.
Roy's expression carried a knowing amusement that made Ricken's face burn hotter. "The young mage makes a valid tactical point. The connection between their magical energies was evident during the rescue operation."
"How convenient," Severa muttered, though her smirk suggested she was more entertained than critical.
Robin considered the proposed team composition, his tactical mind weighing various factors. "Very well. Robin, Morgan, Miriel, Virion, Ricken, and Sarai will comprise the search team. We depart within the hour."
As the meeting dispersed and individuals moved to prepare for the mission, Sarai caught Ricken's arm gently. "Walk with me a moment," she said quietly.
The young mage followed her out of the tent and away from the immediate bustle of the camp, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the upcoming mission. They stopped beneath a large oak tree on the camp's perimeter, where Sarai turned to face him with an expression that was difficult to read.
"You volunteered to accompany the mission because of me," she observed. It was not quite a question.
Ricken felt his face flush but forced himself to meet her orange eyes. "I volunteered because the reasoning was sound. Your magic and mine do work well together, and if we encounter Grimleal forces, having complementary abilities could prove crucial."
"All true," Sarai acknowledged, a small smile playing at her lips. "But not the complete truth."
The young mage swallowed hard. "I... I wanted to make sure you stayed safe. I know that probably sounds presumptuous, especially since you are clearly capable of handling yourself, and you have your brothers and Sybyrh who are far more qualified to protect you, and I am hardly—"
"Ricken." Sarai's voice was gentle, cutting through his increasingly frantic rambling. "You need not apologize for caring about my wellbeing. In fact, I find it rather endearing." She reached out to touch his cheek, the gesture making his breath catch. "This situation is strange for both of us. We are told by the future that we will marry, will have a child together. Yet in this present moment, we are still strangers learning to know one another."
"But you do not feel like a stranger," Ricken admitted quietly. "When I held you during the rescue, when our magic connected, it felt... familiar. Like something I had known before, even though I had not."
Sarai's expression softened further. "I felt it as well. Perhaps some bonds do transcend time, as I said before. Or perhaps the future has already begun to shape itself around us." She lowered her hand but did not step away. "Either way, I am glad you will be there. Not because I need protection, but because I find I prefer your company."
Ricken felt as though his heart might burst from his chest. "I prefer yours as well," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Then let us go find our child," Sarai said with a slight smile that held both warmth and a hint of mischief. "Even if the concept still makes you turn the most remarkable shade of red."
The young mage groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You noticed that."
"Everyone has noticed that," Sarai laughed, the sound like music. "But I find it charming rather than off-putting." She linked her arm through his, beginning to lead him back toward the camp. "Come. We have preparations to make."
As they walked together, Ricken found himself marveling at the strange turn his life had taken. Weeks ago, he had been simply another young mage trying to prove himself worthy of being a Shepherd. Now he was preparing to search for a child who did not yet exist in this timeline, accompanied by a dark elven princess who somehow saw past his youth to something worth her regard.
The thought of meeting Laurent, of confronting the tangible evidence of a future he could barely comprehend, filled him with equal parts anticipation and terror. What would the young man be like? Would he resemble Ricken himself, or would the dark elven heritage be more dominant? Would Laurent even want to know him in this timeline, given that Ricken was not yet the father he would eventually become?
These questions churned through his mind as he gathered his supplies and prepared his spellbooks. Sarai moved through her own preparations nearby, occasionally catching his eye with a small smile that made his concentration falter. The other Shepherds offered knowing looks and good-natured teasing as the search team assembled, though Ricken bore it with as much dignity as he could muster.
Morgan approached him as they prepared to depart, the young tactician's expression thoughtful. "You are handling this situation with considerable grace," he observed. "Many would struggle with the knowledge of a predetermined future."
"I am struggling," Ricken admitted honestly. "But what is the alternative? To reject it out of fear? To push away someone who might be important to me because the path ahead seems intimidating?" He shook his head. "The Shepherds have taught me that courage means moving forward even when uncertain. This is simply another application of that principle."
Morgan smiled, looking remarkably like his father in that moment. "Laurent will appreciate that attitude. He values logical reasoning and emotional honesty in equal measure." The young tactician paused, then added more softly, "He is a good person, Ricken. Kind, brilliant, and deeply loyal to those he cares about. You and Aunt Sarai have every reason to be proud of him."
The words settled something in Ricken's chest, easing a tension he had not fully acknowledged. "Thank you, Morgan. That... that helps more than you might realize."
The search team gathered at the camp's edge, final checks being made on equipment and supplies. Robin ran through the plan one final time, his tactical mind ensuring everyone understood their roles and contingencies. Miriel and Virion stood close together, their concern for their son evident despite their different methods of expressing it. Miriel's was contained in small, precise movements and constant rechecking of her supplies, while Virion's manifested in an unusual quietness, his typical flamboyance subdued by worry.
Chrom approached to see them off, Sybyrh at his side. "Bring him home safely," the Exalt said, his words carrying the weight of both command and paternal understanding.
"We will," Robin assured him. "And with luck, we will locate intelligence on the other missing children as well."
The team set out as the sun climbed higher in the sky, following the roads that led toward the border territories. The landscape gradually shifted from the familiar fields and forests of Ylisse to the more rugged terrain that marked the approach to Valm. Evidence of recent conflict marred the countryside in places, villages abandoned or damaged, fields left untended.
Sarai walked beside Ricken, her dark elven senses alert to potential dangers. Despite her recent ordeal, she moved with the grace characteristic of her people, showing no signs of the weakness that had marked the first days of her recovery. The young mage found himself stealing glances at her when he thought she was not looking, still struggling to reconcile the reality of her presence with the knowledge that the future insisted they were meant to share a life together.
"You are staring again," Sarai observed without turning her head, though her tone carried amusement rather than reproach.
Ricken flushed, quickly looking forward. "I apologize. I did not mean to be rude."
"I did not say I minded," she replied, finally glancing at him with a slight smile. "Though I confess curiosity about what thoughts prompt such intense observation."
The young mage considered how to answer, settling on honesty. "I am trying to understand how someone like you could choose someone like me. Not in this timeline necessarily, but in any timeline. You are a dark elven princess, powerful and graceful and..." he gestured helplessly, "and I am barely more than a boy who still has to prove himself worthy of being called a Shepherd."
Sarai was quiet for a moment, her orange eyes thoughtful. "Do you know what I remember most clearly from my captivity?" she asked finally. "Not the pain or the fear, though both were present. What I remember most is the moment you arrived. I was lost in darkness, my magic being drained away to fuel purposes that sickened me. And then suddenly, I felt your magical signature. Clean. Pure. Untainted by the corruption surrounding me."
She turned to look at him fully, and Ricken found he could not look away from her gaze. "You were a light in that darkness, Ricken. And when you caught me as I fell, when you held me with such gentle care despite never having met me, I understood why my future self chose you. It was not about power or status or age. It was about the goodness of your heart, the purity of your intentions."
The young mage felt his throat tighten with emotion. "I only did what anyone would do."
"No," Sarai countered gently. "You did what you would do. What you have always done, I suspect. You saw someone in need and acted without hesitation, without thought for your own safety or status. That is the mark of true character, and it is far more valuable than any magical ability or noble lineage."
Before Ricken could formulate a response to this, Morgan called back from his position at the front of the group. "We are approaching the area where Laurent was last spotted. Everyone maintain alertness for both our target and potential hostile forces."
The team tightened their formation, all personal conversations falling away as they entered potentially dangerous territory. The forest here was dense, the canopy overhead filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the forest floor. Birdsong provided a seemingly peaceful soundtrack, but years of warfare had taught the Shepherds that such tranquility often preceded violence.
Robin raised his hand, bringing the group to a halt. "Miriel, can you sense any magical signatures in the vicinity?"
The mage closed her eyes, extending her awareness outward. "I detect residual magical energy consistent with combat spellwork. The signature pattern suggests my son's casting style, though the traces are several hours old." Her eyes opened, fixing on a direction slightly east of their current path. "The concentration is strongest in that direction."
"Then that is where we go," Robin decided. "Morgan, thoughts on likely scenarios?"
The young tactician considered, his mind working through possibilities. "If Laurent detected pursuit, he would have fallen back to a defensive position. Somewhere with good sightlines and multiple escape routes. Given the terrain..." He scanned the surrounding forest. "There should be a rocky outcropping approximately half a mile in the direction Miriel indicated. In our timeline, he used such positions when operating independently."
The team adjusted their course, moving cautiously through the undergrowth. Sarai's hand went to the focus crystal she wore at her hip, her dark elven magic ready to respond to threats. Ricken stayed close to her, his own tome open to a prepared spell, acutely aware of his dual purpose in being here—both to contribute to the mission and to ensure Sarai's safety.
As they progressed, signs of recent conflict became more evident. Scorch marks on trees indicated fire magic, while disturbed earth and broken branches suggested physical combat. Virion knelt to examine tracks, his ranger skills coming to the fore.
"Multiple individuals passed through here recently," he reported. "Some of the footprints suggest Risen, based on their irregular gait patterns. But there are also fresher tracks, lighter in weight, consistent with a young human male moving quickly."
"Laurent," Miriel confirmed, her voice tight with controlled concern.
The team increased their pace, following the trail of combat signs deeper into the forest. The rocky outcropping Morgan had predicted soon came into view, rising perhaps twenty feet above the surrounding terrain. And there, positioned defensively among the rocks with a tome in one hand and a bow within easy reach, stood a young man who bore the unmistakable features of both his parents.
Laurent's appearance immediately struck Ricken as a fascinating blend of contrasts. He possessed Virion's refined bone structure and noble bearing, but his eyes held Miriel's analytical sharpness. His hair fell in neat waves, and he wore glasses similar to his mother's, though his attire suggested someone who prioritized functionality over aesthetics. Even in a defensive position, potentially expecting attack, his movements were measured and precise.
"Hold your position," Laurent called down, his voice carrying an authoritative edge despite his youth. "Identify yourselves and state your purpose. Be aware that I have prepared defensive spells and will not hesitate to deploy them if threatened."
"Laurent!" Virion called up, relief evident in his voice. "It is I, your father, along with your mother and allies. We have come to bring you home."
The young man's expression remained guarded, though Ricken noticed a flicker of something—hope, perhaps, or longing—cross his features. "Forgive my skepticism, but the Grimleal have demonstrated considerable skill in illusion magic. I will require verification of your identities before allowing approach."
Miriel stepped forward, her tone carrying the same measured precision as her son's. "A prudent precaution. Very well. When you were seven years old, you conducted an experiment attempting to quantify the relationship between lunar phases and magical potency. The experiment resulted in the inadvertent animation of several household objects, causing considerable disruption. Your father suggested we never speak of the incident. Your mother catalogued the entire event for future reference."
Laurent's defensive posture eased slightly. "That information would not be commonly known. However, it is insufficient for complete verification. Please provide additional confirmation."
Robin spoke up, his tactical mind recognizing what Laurent needed to hear. "You came back from a future where Grima had risen and devastated the world. Your analytical abilities and combined magical-archery techniques made you invaluable to the resistance. You are here because you believe this timeline can be saved, that the future you came from can be prevented."
The young man's eyes widened fractionally. "That intelligence is not widely disseminated. How did you..." He paused, his analytical mind clearly working through implications. "You are Robin, the tactician. The reports I received indicated you are Father's trusted companion and..." His gaze fixed on Morgan. "That is your son. From my timeline."
"Hello, Laurent," Morgan called up with a warm smile. "It is genuinely good to see you well. We have been searching for you."
Laurent finally lowered his tome, though Ricken noticed he did not completely abandon his defensive positioning. "Morgan. Your presence provides substantial verification. The Grimleal would be unlikely to have sufficient intelligence to convincingly replicate someone from our specific timeline." He began making his way down from the rocky outcropping with careful, measured movements. "I apologize for the excessive caution. Recent experiences have reinforced the necessity of thorough verification protocols."
"No apology necessary," Robin assured him. "Caution has clearly served you well. We have encountered similar deceptions from Grimleal forces."
As Laurent reached ground level, Miriel and Virion moved forward. The young man's carefully maintained composure cracked slightly as his mother pulled him into an embrace, and even more when his father joined in, the three of them forming a small family unit reunited after too long apart.
"My brilliant boy," Virion murmured, his usual theatrical manner stripped away to reveal genuine paternal emotion. "We have been most concerned for your safety."
"I have been adequately careful," Laurent replied, though his voice was thick with emotion. "However, I confess the prospect of continuing to operate independently held diminishing appeal."
Miriel pulled back slightly, her hands going to her son's face in a gesture of maternal assessment. "You have lost weight. Your nutritional intake has been insufficient."
"Food supplies have been limited," Laurent admitted. "I prioritized mobility and concealment over foraging efficiency."
"Well, that situation is remedied now," Virion declared, his characteristic flair returning. "You are among family once more, and we shall ensure you are properly provisioned."
As the initial reunion settled, Laurent's analytical gaze swept across the rest of the group, cataloguing each individual and clearly assessing their capabilities and potential threat levels. His eyes paused on Sarai, recognition evident in his expression.
"Aunt Sarai," he said, his tone carrying both surprise and relief. "You have been successfully extracted from Grimleal custody. This is excellent news. Your capture was a significant concern in our strategic calculations."
"Thanks to these Shepherds," Sarai replied warmly. "And I am pleased to see you safe as well, Laurent. Your parents have been quite worried."
Laurent's gaze then shifted to Ricken, and the young mage felt his heart rate increase under the scrutiny. The analytical assessment in Laurent's eyes was unmistakable, and Ricken was acutely aware that he was being evaluated by someone who might, in another timeline, be his son.
The thought made his face burn with embarrassment once again, a reaction that did not go unnoticed by Laurent, whose expression shifted to something that might have been curiosity or perhaps amusement, though it was difficult to tell given his controlled demeanor.
"And you are Ricken," Laurent stated. It was not a question. "I have heard of your capabilities. Your performance during Aunt Sarai's rescue was apparently quite impressive."
The young mage struggled to find an appropriate response. What did one say to someone who was simultaneously a stranger and potentially one's future child? "I, uh, I simply did what was necessary. Anyone would have—"
"That is demonstrably false," Laurent interrupted with Miriel's characteristic directness. "Not anyone would have confronted a Grimleal priest to protect someone they had never met. Your actions suggest a particular strength of character that extends beyond mere magical ability."
Ricken felt Sarai's amused gaze on him and wished desperately that the ground would open and swallow him. Laurent's clinical assessment of his character, delivered in that matter-of-fact tone, was somehow more mortifying than outright praise.
Morgan, apparently sensing his distress, intervened smoothly. "Perhaps we should relocate to a more secure position before conducting extended conversations. Laurent, have you detected any Risen activity in this area recently?"
The analytical young man's attention shifted immediately to tactical concerns. "Affirmative. Risen patrols have increased in frequency over the past seventy-two hours. The pattern suggests coordinated search efforts rather than random wandering. I hypothesized they were actively seeking specific targets."
"Seeking the future children," Robin concluded grimly. "The Grimleal are systematically attempting to capture individuals from your timeline."
"That hypothesis aligns with my observations," Laurent confirmed. "I have avoided engagement where possible, but several encounters were unavoidable." He gestured to his torn sleeve and a bandage visible beneath. "Nothing severe, but sufficient to reinforce the necessity of rejoining allied forces."
"Then we depart immediately," Robin decided. "We can conduct fuller debriefings once we have returned to the safety of the main encampment."
The expanded group began their return journey, with Laurent integrated into their formation. Ricken found himself walking near the young man, hyperaware of the strangeness of the situation. Laurent, for his part, seemed content to observe his surroundings with analytical precision, occasionally making notes in a small journal he produced from his pack.
"You keep detailed records," Ricken observed, seeking some neutral topic of conversation.
"Comprehensive documentation is essential for effective analysis," Laurent replied without looking up from his writing. "Patterns often only become apparent through systematic review of accumulated data." He paused, then added, "My mother instilled this practice at an early age. Though I confess my father's influence manifests in my tendency to include aesthetic observations alongside tactical ones."
Despite his nervousness, Ricken found himself smiling. "That sounds like a useful combination. Pure analysis without consideration of context can miss important factors."
"Precisely," Laurent agreed, finally looking at Ricken with what might have been approval. "You demonstrate analytical aptitude yourself. Your magical theory must be quite sound to have achieved the power output witnessed during Aunt Sarai's rescue."
The young mage felt his face warm again. "I have been studying extensively. There is still much I need to learn, but I am determined to master advanced magical concepts."
"A commendable goal," Laurent said. "If you would be amenable, I would be interested in comparing notes on magical theory during our journey. Collaborative analysis often yields superior insights than individual study."
Ricken's surprise must have shown on his face because Laurent's expression shifted to something that might have been uncertainty. "However, if such interaction would be uncomfortable given our... particular circumstances, I understand."
"No!" Ricken said quickly, perhaps too eagerly. "I mean, yes, I would very much like to discuss magical theory with you. I am simply adjusting to this entire situation." He lowered his voice, aware that Sarai was walking just ahead of them. "It is not every day one meets someone who might be one's child in a future that has not yet occurred."
Laurent's lips quirked in what might have been a small smile. "Indeed. The temporal paradoxes involved are quite fascinating from a theoretical standpoint, though admittedly disorienting from an experiential one." He was quiet for a moment, then added more softly, "For what it is worth, in my timeline, you were—are—an excellent father. Patient, supportive, and genuinely invested in my development. I would not object to the possibility of such a relationship existing in this timeline as well."
The words struck Ricken with unexpected force, filling him with an emotion he could not quite name. Pride, perhaps, mixed with hope and determination. "I would not object to that either," he managed, his voice rough.
Ahead of them, Sarai glanced back with a knowing smile that suggested she had overheard at least part of their conversation. Ricken groaned internally, but found he could not quite suppress his own smile in return.
The journey back to camp proceeded without incident, though the team remained alert for potential Risen encounters. Laurent proved to be a valuable addition, his analytical observations helping them avoid several potential ambushes by identifying patrol patterns in disturbed vegetation and magical residue.
As they neared the encampment, Ricken reflected on the extraordinary turn his life had taken. He had joined the Shepherds seeking to prove himself, to demonstrate that youth need not be an impediment to making meaningful contributions. He had found that and so much more—a beautiful dark elven princess who saw past his age to his character, and now a potential future that included a son who combined analytical brilliance with evident kindness.
The thought still made him flush with embarrassment, but beneath that familiar reaction, something else was growing. Hope, perhaps. Or maybe the beginning of belief that the future the time-travelers described might actually come to pass.
And if it did, Ricken found himself thinking as he watched Sarai laugh at something Virion said while Laurent made a note in his journal about the interaction, perhaps it would not be so terrible after all.
Perhaps, in fact, it might be rather wonderful.
To be continued in Chapter 26: Gathering the Lost Children - Part 2