[Here in these rooms of experimentation, nothing is sacred.]

He had been only a toddler when he first held Grado's Sacred Stone. At that time he hadn't understood its significance, but had felt drawn to it nonetheless, if for no other reason than its glowing warmth.

As he grew, his view of the Stone changed. It became, first, something amazing, fantastic, then something fascinating, to be studied, and finally something dangerous, to be guarded. However, it always remained sacred: something he dared not touch for fear of ruining it.

No longer.

He holds the Dark Stone before the crushed remnants of the Fire Emblem.

The dust is still warm.

I dedicate this drabble to Xirysa, Mark of the Asphodel and Raphiael because they are awesome people and reviewed! Not to mention they write great 'fics (which I have not reviewed because I am a bad, bad person). Also because Raphiael writes Knoll/Lyon *heart*

...Can anybody say "purple-haired dark magic trio"? 8D