...

Morgan clambered back out, gingerly holding a spherical object in his hands. The air seemed to distort and hum around the Second Seal, the item’s latent energy subliming outwards like vapor tendrils. 

What was he to do now?

…

so long, world.

Morgan bowed his head as the executioner led him up to the noose. The stand wobbled underneath him, the rope chafed his neck where it was jerked roughly over his head and under his chin and pulled tight- urk- he tiptoed slightly, shifting his weight nervously where he stood, struggling to swallow as he lifted his eyes feverishly skywards- 

thanks for the memories-

-? 

The crowds were scattering, he registered screaming through the static buzzing in his ears; the executioner, about to kick out the stand from under his feet and let him swing, opted instead to pause and stare. 

…huh?

He began to formshift upon reaching the last arc of his descent, reverting back to human form in a flash. Marth's momentum, coupled with his sudden materialization, was enough to knock the executioner off the stand. The Einherjar made sure that his target had fallen off before dematerializing. Gravity's pull instantly disappeared, and he re-emerged back onto the stage.

Morgan was tethered to a frame by a rope around his neck. Marth made short work of the rope, severing it with a swift slice of his rapier.

Now what?

Emmeryn had somehow decided to touch him.

It was probably by luck that he had managed not to dematerialize - if he had done so, the shock of passing through a mortal would have incapacitated him. 

“Are you… alright…? I… I’m sorry… My question… you… I should not… I apologize…”

"i... I can't... remember - " his answer was cut short by a coughing fit. " - it's not... your fault..."

It was his. The other Einherjar had their memories - so why did the Makers decree that his was out of bounds? It made very little sense, unless...

His identity seemed to give Emmeryn a shock - but then, it usually did. However, her question... was... more... 

“I… how much… do you remember… wars… suffering… such pain… for so long…?”

... difficult to answer.

Marth looked down, his expression torn between confusion and anguish. It was about his memory again - something which the Makers ensured he would never know about.  He tried to remember, to recall what had happened before his death.

A few voices, sentences, events flashed through his mind - and then nothing. It was as if he had hit a barrier. He tried to force the obstruction out of the way, but it held. Despite the will he had been endowed with, it would not yield -

- there was a crack, as if something gave way -

- and the backlash hit him. The world flickered before his eyes, and pain blossomed where his heart would have been. It bore an eerie similarity to a previous occasion, where two of his Masters had given contradictory orders -

Which might have explained his wandering off into the wilderness, a hand resting lazily on the hilt of his sword and the other twirling the stick of the strawberry flavoured candy perched between his lips. He was hardly the kind of guy to invite danger or trouble, quite the opposite actually, but he did wish something interesting would happen; sherbet rain, or something, for example. 

That being said, it was no surprise that excitement coursed through him when eyes fell on a figure in the distance. Muscles tensed, fingers quivered before grasping his weapon and nostrils flared as he readied himself for battle. …until he noticed the strange aura surrounding the person he’d spotted. 

Tch… that weird Prince-Hero-King-warrior Boss-Man had summoned outta that one card thing… They kinda creeped him out a little, if he was honest; they were too much like ghosts, or similar, for his liking. Not that he really understood it, of course, and it would be unfair of him to dislike on creepy-spook factors alone. 

It caused him no end of frustration - if such a word could even be used. What purpose would he serve, if he was not given tasks to accomplish? Idleness formed an incessant annoyance - and perhaps a shadow of a punishment. The compulsion forced him to obey; and with nothing to obey -

- the emptiness was almost crushing.

So he had left. Away from the incessant chatter of the Shepherds' camp, away from mortals, from the living. They were too... alive.

He had spent a good part of the day out on the plains, without humans for miles around. But a presence was approaching - homing in on him, even. A human, one he vaguely recognized, someone from the Shepherds' camp.

Though, what was he to say?

The situation was somewhat improved by the human's attempt at interaction. Marth turned, and remembered to materialize - in the sunlight, he would otherwise have appeared half-transparent.

So she did not know who his Mirror was.

There wasn’t a familiar face anywhere to be seen. After all, everyone else was gone- dead or imprisoned or put to the noose before him, he had seen people cleaning up the trail of blood where the body before him was dragged offstage. Hanged, drawn, quartered, Morgan guessed. 

One by one, the Masters also fell. His bonds of servitude were weakening - and now, the last and youngest Master was being put to the blade. He had one more mission, left by the white-haired Master. Robin.

You must.. make sure... Morgan lives. He is the last... of the Exalted bloodline... and the last... go, Marth! I pray you keep my son safe -

- it was time to act. 

Humans congregate before an execution - a habit he presumed was unique to the living. It would complicate things... to say the least. Getting close enough to the crowd was no issue, but the Einherjar had no idea what to do next. Apart from the most obvious course of action.

Marth had no idea what to do, so he simply remained still. The gesture evidently meant something to Kai, though, but he did not know what.

"I... I serve... Chrom, yes... though my alleigance... is not... merely bound to him." Marth said with a slight nod. "There are... also... three more... whom... I cannot... disobey."

”May I see your hand?”

That was... a strange request. He recalled someone telling him that he was very cold - given the fact that Einherjars' temperatures matched that of the surroundings, it was not too much of a surprise. Perhaps it was only because the living were too accustomed to their own warmth.

Was she going to touch him? He hoped not.

... it was hard to put it into proper terms.

The child had also extended an invitation. Marth did not know whether to accept it.

... this was all so confusing. Perhaps coming out of the Outrealm was not a good idea after all. But he did not have a say in the matter.

"I... I was... human... once. But no longer..." Marth averted his eyes, unsure of what to say next. She seemed about to touch him - as a safety precaution, he made sure to materialize properly.

"... Ah... I... I was not... tasked... to do anything. I thought it... best... to remain away from the living." He said after a pause. "They seem to... find me... startling, some how."

Marth closed his eyes briefly.