@tomestobetold II @ Lissa!
It had been weeks since that fateful day when Chrom had been slain at the Dragon’s Table. Word of his death, however, was whispered only as a rumor. No one was sure what had transpired that day, but most believed he was dead.
Frederick was among them. The knight had mourned quietly, and had been there to support Lissa through her grief.
As the weeks passed, Risen activity increased. There were more and more of them, and the Shepherds were called to deal with their swell in numbers.
Chrom should’ve known Lissa was among them. His sister, ever selfless, would fight for the people to the bitter end.
He hated that she had to see him like this. His revived corpse smelled of death, and, as time wore on, his memories of his life would dissipate, one by one. But he still remembered Lissa.
So, he orders the Risen that surrounded her to retreat. His voice sounds hoarse, coming from a mouth that should not move. Grima’s power, which moved his body, tried to rebuff his command. Grima wanted death and blood.
He wouldn’t let them take Lissa.
“I said retreat,” he orders the Risen. His red eyes gleamed with fury, and the Risen obeyed. He turns to Lissa, and his grief and sadness are written plainly on his face.
“Run, sister. I can’t hold them for long.”
