Chapter Text
Severa thought it must be another dream. Another dream where ghosts of her home taunted her, fought her, talked to her, touched her, walked amongst those she now called comrades. Lucina stood there, sword poised to strike, breathing ragged, blood dripping from an open wound. It was an image common to Severa’s nightmares, even today. Lucina calling out to her, arrows sinking into her skin, falling dead before her eyes, Severa’s final hope, gone. Lucina’s fingers brushing against her hands, saying something Severa could never remember, but always leaving her in tears. But this Lucina was different.
She stood over a victim. Lord Corrin. Corrin’s brother, the strategist, stood beside her. He scoffed and flipped through the pages of a tome. “I told you I should be the one to handle this. Even you couldn’t match an Einherjar in swordplay. A bit of magic, however…” Dark tendrils curled around Leo’s hand, which he raised toward Lucina.
Severa’s sword flashed to her hand and angled towards the prince. It had been years since she’d even seen Lucina, but some habits never changed.
“Don’t lift another finger,” she snarled.
“Severa…?” a voice called. Severa swallowed and only tightened her grip on her blade.
Leo’s eyes narrowed, but he held his hand still over the tome. “Selena? What on earth do you think you’re doing? And who is ‘Severa’?”
“Selena, stop! If anyone else sees you raise a blade at a noble, they’ll—”
Leo begged Corrin’s silence with a hand, which still pulsed with shadow. “If she’s reckless enough to threaten a member of the royal family, she must have a good reason. What is it, then?” He closed the tome, and the magic seeped back into his skin. The tip of Severa’s sword sunk as she relaxed, but she still watched him warily.
“Walk away, Severa,” Lucina muttered, “This is my fight. I’ll not have you stand in harm’s way for my sake.”
Severa scoffed. This was Lucina, alright. “Look, if you want to get yourself fried by dark magic, then that’s your—” She stopped when she finally turned to look at the lost lord. Severa’s heart dropped, and she heard the thick rush of blood in her ears. Lucina didn’t look a day older than the girl from her memories. “You… you can’t really be…”
“She’s an Einherjar.”
“What?”
Leo nodded, gesturing towards Lucina. “An Einherjar. A conjured spirit of a powerful warrior. They’re crafted to be living weapons, unaware of their existence as mere phantoms of past heroes.”
“I know what an Einherjar is! Er, I mean… I’ve heard of them…” Severa averted her gaze, but not before seeing Leo raise an eyebrow.
Corrin finally pulled herself to her feet, though she clutched her side as though injured. “We were just trying to see whether she would cooperate if we summoned her. They’re supposed to fight for whoever conjures them, but it, uh… didn’t go as planned.”
“I read that they are typically summoned through cards, but this one seems a little different. See here.” Leo tossed Selena a small object. Turning it over in her hands, she realized it was a small carved likeness of Lucina. “Perhaps that is why this one is acting so differently. Unless this ‘Lucina’ was not as loyal as the tales tell.”
Severa bit back a retort. The last thing she needed was another reason to appear suspicious. “Just let me talk to her, okay? I… I’ve dealt with Einherjar before, back where I came from.”
“Really? You’ll have to tell me about them sometime,” said Leo.
“Go ahead, Selena. I’ll be right here if there’s trouble,” Corrin assured.
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, snatching Lucina’s arm and tugging her away from the other nobles.
“Severa! What is going on?” Lucina asked. Severa didn’t answer, but dragged her far out of the nobles’ earshot, though she didn’t dare leave their sight. Lucina continued to ask questions. “What was that talk of Einherjar? Do they mistake me for a spirit? Severa, we must go back, I must explain that I—”
“Lucina. Do you remember how you got here?”
They finally stopped. Lucina blinked, her eyes clouded with confusion. “I… now that you mention it, it’s strange. I remember where I was before; I remember being in camp with my father and the others. But I can’t recall the journey here. There was no Outrealm gate, I merely heard my name called, and… now I’m here.” She rubbed one of her temples while the other hand rested on her sword hilt. “Could this be similar to what Robin experienced? Some form of amnesia?”
Severa only gathered a vague idea of what Lucina was saying. She needed to figure out how to deal with this apparition, and fast. Think, goddamn it! How had they sealed the other Einherjar away back in the Outrealms? She remembered having to fight them, of course, but most of them came right back after defeat. Plus, this one wasn’t an obvious spirit like the others; she looked like a normal flesh-and-blood person with no weird glowing aura or anything like that. Severa couldn’t be sure if fighting her would solve anything. But what other option did she have?
“Severa?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if you had any memory of our journey here.”
“Oh.” Shit. “I… yeah, don’t you remember? We’re, uh, visiting this palace that we defended from a Risen attack last night. After the fight, the residents hosted a celebration for us, and you had way too much to drink. Yeah, turns out Ylisse’s darling princess is a total lightweight, ha!” Severa’s laugh shot through the air too loudly, and she feared that even Lucina would be able to see through her obvious lie.
But Lucina was as inept at reading people as ever. “I.. drank last night? I suppose that would explain the memory loss, but… I don’t feel as though I’m recovering from inebriation.”
“Well, that’s—I don’t know, maybe you forgot this morning, too? You were moaning and groaning about your head until noon, ugh! It was starting to give me a headache. Hey, I have an idea, why don’t we spar? Right here and now?”
“What? Right now?” Lucina’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, Severa, but I’d really like to get my bearings first. I should find my father, as well—”
“Nonsense! Swinging your sword is the best way to wake yourself up, right?” At this, Severa swung her sword in a wide arc towards Lucina.
But Lucina was fast; she leapt backwards, beyond the reach of the blade. “Severa! Are you mad?” She drew Falchion, which gleamed in the afternoon sun, even more brilliant than Severa recalled. But she could not balk; fighting this specter was the only possible solution she could imagine. So she swung again, this time striking against Falchion.
“Enough of this!” Lucina shouted. “Severa, I don’t want to hurt you!” But Severa could not hear her cries over her own warring thoughts. This was wrong, this was so wrong, what if Lucina hadn’t dodged that first strike? The blade would have buried itself in her belly, and the image of her Exalt bleeding out, really bleeding out, would stain Severa’s mind for the rest of her life.
But she had no choice. She knew what could happen if she let an Einherjar go rogue. Drawn to the image of a fabled hero, warriors flocked to join their cause, which was as much of an illusion as the spirit itself. The resulting carnage, however, was not. Even worse was the fact that Einherjar seemed to have a talent for finding others like them and either banding together or clashing in endless conflict.
Severa knew the real Lucina would never start conflict without cause. But this was an Einherjar, a living weapon whose instinct was to battle. Corrin’s injuries were proof of that.
Falchion danced in her direction, but Severa managed to either parry or avoid her foe’s blows. If she were a few years younger, she wouldn’t stand a chance; Lucina was the better fighter, and she stood much taller than Severa, even still. But Severa was accustomed to Lucina’s fighting style, whereas the mercenary had picked up several new techniques in her years away from home. If anything, they now stood on equal ground. Indeed, Lucina seemed to be struggling to block some of Severa’s strikes.
She could do it. She could kill Lucina. She could save her from another war.
“Severa!” Lucina would not stop calling her name, gods, she would not stop. She shouted other things, but Severa still did not listen. Each of Severa’s strikes came harder and harder, the clash of their blades reverberating in her chest and rattling her heart. Her confusion and terror became consumed with a growing rage. How dare this phantom come to torment her, how dare it steal her Exalt’s face, her voice, her hands, her eyes. Fuck this bastardized copy of a hero, fuck the wretch who had shaped that carving with his grimy, perverse fingers, and fuck Lucina for ever being kind to her, for searing herself into Severa’s heart like a hot brand.
Severa turned Lucina’s size against her and knocked her to the ground. Falchion flew from Lucina’s grasp and landed with a sad thump into the dirt, its shine now concealed in dust. Severa seized the opportunity and trapped her foe beneath her, arms pinned between knees. This was her chance. She could kill her now. She could banish her back to that hideous effigy. Lucina stared with wide eyes, helpless against the blade Severa raised for the final strike.
Severa shut her eyes, plunged her blade before her, and screamed. She felt the tip bury itself deep into the earth.
Her breath trembled against her own lips. She opened her eyes, but hot tears made her vision swim. She wiped them away and snivelled. It was like being a child again.
“Selena!” Corrin’s voice carried to Severa’s ears, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps. “Thank the gods, I thought—oh. Are you, um… alright?”
She stared at the girl beneath her. The edge of Severa’s sword pressed against her captive’s cheek closely enough to draw blood. Lucina’s chest struggled to rise and fall against Severa’s weight. It was almost as though her spirit could breathe.
Severa pulled her sword from the soil and stood over her victim. Her own voice rang hollow in her ears. “Do what lord Corrin says. But stay away from me.”
“Severa…”
“You’re confused. My name is Selena.”
“What?”
Severa snorted. “You don’t know me. And I don’t know you. So stay away from me.”
Lucina moved to stand, but winced and stumbled back to the ground. Severa turned to leave, unable to watch any longer. Lucina reached for her. “Severa, wait! Please, I—”
But Severa did not stop. Her form retreated until Lucina could not bear to look any more.
“Come on. Let’s get you to a… er, a healer, I guess.” The armor-clad woman beside her—Corrin, she supposed—offered a hand. Lucina took it without a word, without a thought, and without taking a last look at the lock of hair Severa’s sword had cut.