When Palla arrived at the Summoner's room, she knocked once, twice, thrice because she knew how engrossed Kiran can be with her work. She slowly swung the door open. Kiran looked up from her desk and flashed her a small, tired smile.

"Hello there, Palla," Kiran said, gesturing for her to enter. The room was dimly lit with a flickering lantern at the corner of the desk to the side. Palla took care not to step on any of the papers that were haphazardly thrown about on the floor, making a mental note to herself to come back again in the morning to help tidy things up. Kiran stood up, setting her quill down on a stack of papers. "What's going on?"

"Nothing much," Palla replied. "After our last skirmish with Embla, I couldn't help but notice how exhausted you look. Have you been resting well lately?"

Kiran flushed slightly, her hands loosely playing with the ends of her sleeves, "Ah, well, there's just been so much to do... A-and I just simply lose track of time once I get started on my work at night, so..." She said, squeaking out the last bit.

"I figured you'd say something like that. Here," Palla motioned Kiran at her chair. "The least I can do is help you relax a little."

"But I don't... I mean, you don't—"

"But nothing." Palla closed the distance between them in an instant, gently pushing Kiran back into the chair with a quiet apology for her impulsiveness. She circled around so that she stood behind Kiran with her hands on the Summoner's shoulders, instantly noticing the tension in them. "I won't take too long. Just a quick shoulder massage. Perhaps it would do you some good."

Kiran gave a tiny sigh as Palla began to rub at her shoulders with small, soothing circles. Kiran leaned back into the wooden chair as her resistance melted away at the touch. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure."

A comfortable silence settled between them as Palla continued, feeling the knots slowly unwind and watching Kiran's posture relax. After a few moments, she spoke up.

"You don't need to push yourself so hard. You've been doing your best as our army's tactician and we all know that," Palla lightly admonished, "You'll work yourself sick if you keep this up."

"Yes, I know. But it's just..."

"Hm?"

"Well, you should know, since you and Catria were one of the first heroes that were summoned to Askr." Kiran started, tensing up again. Even in the poor lighting, Palla could make out the faint dusting of pink creeping onto Kiran's face. "Prior to any of this, I barely knew anything about wars and strategies, much less how to lead an entire army. I have to work extra hard to match everyone's expectations because of my inexperience."

"Oh dear. Was that why?" Palla's hands stopped. She wrapped her arms around the Summoner's neck and pulled her into a loose embrace. Her mind went back to the first time she met Kiran. A shy girl with an appetite for knowledge and a surprising aptitude for tactics. A little clumsy, most likely as a result her lack of confidence. But Kiran was a quick learner, absorbing something new with each battle, both from the allies that she guided as well as their opponents.

"Regardless of how you were in the beginning, you made tremendous progress. You proved how capable of a leader you are, on and off the battlefield. Without you, Prince Alphonse and Princess Sharena would still be fighting on their own. Without you, we couldn't have made it this far. It was all thanks to you that we are able to have small moments like this."

Kiran nodded as if she had heard the same words many times before, something that Palla was sure that the Askrian siblings and the army's commander have done time and again. "Yes, yes, I know." With another small sigh, Kiran continued, "I do what I do because I love the people that I've met here. I don't want to let anyone down."

Palla gave her shoulders a small squeeze of reassurance. "You're doing great. We put a great deal of trust in you and the decisions you make."

"Thank you, Palla." Kiran placed one of her hands atop of Palla's as a sign of affirmation. "And for the massage."

"Just try to get some rest every now and then. It won't do any good if you overexert yourself."

Kiran laughed. "All right, all right, I get it. I'll go to bed early tonight."

"And if you don't, I might decide to drop in to check up on you during my patrol tonight," Palla said. She already planned on doing so at some point during her nightly patrol and reaffirmed the idea after seeing how tired the Summoner was.

"Oh right," Kiran's eyes glimmered with interest, "You're on patrol tonight, aren't you?"

As the number of people taking up residence within the castle increased into a sizable number, Commander Anna mandated that they a permanent guard to go out on patrol at all times in case of emergencies.

"Who is your partner for the night shift?"

Palla's hand instinctively drew to the hilt of the sword on her hip, feeling a frown tug at her lips. Memories flashed through her mind. She remembered the whistling sounds of steel slicing through air, the desperate rush of wings, and the sight of her Commander's axe cleaving through flesh and bone. But the memories left as soon as they appeared and she shifted her attention back to Kiran's patient gaze. "It's Michalis." After a second's worth of afterthought, she added, "Prince Michalis."

Because no matter the circumstances that fell upon Macedon, Michalis was never was her king.

Her mind then drifted to her liege. Even after the war, Princess Minerva didn't feel much like a queen either. Minerva was her Commander and her closest friend. She would never hesitate to lay down her life for her liege. But while the Whitewings were forced to serve King Michalis for a time, she can't say that she would do the same for him.

Kiran gave a small hum, noticing the flier's hesitation. The glimmer in her eyes was still present. "Do you not like Michalis?"

Like? Palla had her own reservations about the crown prince of Macedon. A man who sacrificed his family for power, staining his hands with blood with his own father. A charismatic and ambitious leader that led the people of her country down the path of destruction, in hopes to become the strongest in all the continent. Only to be felled by one of his sisters and saved by the prayers of the other.

But hate? She has been serving under Minerva long enough to see the interactions between their royal family. Michalis was always rough with others, especially to Minerva. But she knew that the Macedon siblings had their own share of rare moments of affections, ones that were different than that of her own sisters.

There was one such moment that she caught a glimpse of it during her early days as a pegasus knight trainee. Minerva was once again, defeated in a practice bout with her brother. She was sprawled out on the grass, her training spear on the ground next to her. Michalis stood over her victorious, without a scratch to be seen.

Palla watched afar, knowing not to step too close lest they would notice. Instead of the usual lecture that Michalis always had at the ready at the end of their regular spars, he extended his hand to his sister. His ever-present scowl softened into the tiniest of smiles—one with barely concealed pride—that bewildered Minerva as well as Palla.

She watched young princess hesitantly took her brother's gloved hand and was brought up to her feet. The young prince spoke to her sister, and while Palla was too far to hear what he had told her, it wasn't hard to miss how Minerva lit up from his words. Such a time seemed to be so out of reach, lost in the whirlwind of the past.

Palla was also aware of the feelings that both Minerva and Maria held for their brother. They adored him, idolized him. But for a long time during the war, Minerva resented Michalis for his actions—murdering their own father in cold blood and allying with the enemy—Minerva had constantly tried in her own way to bring Michalis back around, even if that meant cutting him down in battle to halt Macedon's march down the path of ruin.

Then there was Maria. Young, sweet Maria.

She willingly became a prisoner of war, used as a hostage to keep Minerva from openly rebelling against Michalis. Yet she had always stayed firm in her conviction to believe in her older brother. Palla saw how Maria wept for him when she bolted to his crumpled form lying pathetically on the ground as a mangled mess of limbs at the edge of the battlefield. Maria fell to her knees in a pool of the blood that flooded out of the gaping gash where Minerva's axe cut down his torso. Around them, the enemy factors began to scatter, lost without the guidance of their leader.

Amid the chaos, Maria cradled in his head atop of Minerva's wyvern as they brought him to safety in a neighboring town, her white robes ruined with a filthy crimson thickened with mud that Palla knew that no amount of incessant scrubbing would lift off. Maria desperately tried to save him from the brink of death, going well beyond her own limits as a healer with a near constant stream of spells and prayers for days on end. She was so distraught when Minerva finally had to pull her away, so they can continue their campaign. The look of despair on Maria's face would later plague Palla's dreams for future nights to come, together with the oh-so familiar smell of death.

It was some time after Minerva ascended the throne that Palla came to realize that neither of them was able to fully hate Michalis. Maria and her unwavering faith in the man aside, Minerva seemed to take on the same sour look on her face that Michalis wore day in and day out. She was a warrior first, having taken her studies for granted when she was younger. What was left of Macedon's royal court and advisers was full of deception and corruption—seizing the opportunity to take advantage of Minerva's lack of political experience.

Minerva was caught once more in another war—not of weapons and strength, but of wit and words. It pained Palla to watch her liege suffer so much and yet there was so little that she could offer. Being of commoner birth meant that she and her sisters only had the bare minimum of education.

Occasionally, Minerva would mutter under her breath after an exceptionally hard day with the courts.

"What… what would Michalis do?"

Then the coup to overthrow Minerva happened, with it came the winds of another war. The Whitewings aligned themselves with Prince Marth again in their effort to rescue their liege, but everyone was shocked to find Minerva safe in the magic city of Khadein. Even more startling was the fact that she was saved by her supposedly-dead brother.

Minerva didn't talk too much about it, even when Palla inquired. But the fire that burned with fury behind her commander's eyes had already begun to recede. When Michalis appeared in front of them again, not as an enemy but an ally, the flames were nearly extinguished. In its place were remorse, regret, and the faint gleam of hope that perhaps, Michalis was finally returning to her and Maria.

In a way, Palla understood. If either Catria and Est were to do something as horrific as Michalis had done, she would everything in her power to bring them back. She wouldn't forgive them for their actions—it wouldn't be right to simply forgive. She would rather have them atone for what they did. She was their older sister, after all. It was probably the same sentiments that Minerva and Maria held for Michalis. And if her liege didn't hate the man, then Palla didn't have it in her do completely hate him herself.

But she would always know the grief that he caused them and the legacy he left behind during his time as King of Macedon.

"I... wouldn't exactly call it 'hate,'" Palla finally replied, the words tasted strangely bitter on her tongue. "I don't think I can place my full trust in him, is all."

Kiran nodded solemnly. "Of course. I understand. That I can agree with. I've come to know a little bit of the wars that ravaged Archanea after hearing the all the accounts in the barracks. I can only imagine what you and your sisters must've been through." She stood up from her seat and Palla drew away from her chair as she did so. "As for Michalis... Well, he is an interesting man. Private as well. If only he would voice his concerns more often instead of keeping them all to himself."

Now that was an unexpected response. "Pardon?" Palla asked, not sure what to make of the Summoner's comments.

Kiran pursed her lips in thought as if she was contemplating something pressing her head. Finally, the summoner asked, "Do you have time before your patrol, Palla? There's something that I want you to hear."

Palla blinked. "I do but..."

Kiran gave her a mysterious look and before Palla could say any more, there was someone knocking outside the door. One set of double raps and then another. Kiran pulled Palla into the direction of her closet near her bedside and opened the sliding door. "Here, stay inside for a bit."

"Kiran?"

The Summoner gave her a gentle push, "It won't be for long, I promise. Just stay quiet and listen."

When there was another set of knocks outside, Palla moved into the closet, hearing Kiran's "Coming!" to the person on the other side of the door as she silently closed the closet.

The voices were slightly muffled but Palla could easily make out its owner. Rumbling, deep and low, almost like a growl. "Summoner," Michalis barked, "what were you doing before the afternoon meeting that you would be so damningly late? Holed up in your room again?"

She heard Kiran laugh embarrassedly, "Ah, I suppose I lost track of time. I was with Nino in the library, helping her with her reading lessons. She's becoming better and better by the day, you know?"

Michalis gave an exasperated huff. "Such trifling matters. You do realize it's only been a day since Embla's last attack? It's no wonder why this war hasn't been progressing into our favor if you that's what you do in your spare time."

Palla had half the mind to burst out of her hiding place were it not for Kiran's orders. Kiran was always busy with something, whether it be helping an ally around the castle or studying together with some of the other realm's tacticians, like the twin Robins from the World of Awakening. Michalis' claims held no weight behind it. But she held her tongue.

Kiran, however, didn't seem affected by the jab. "Oh, come now Michalis. If I don't get to know the people that I'm working with, I wouldn't know how to bring out the best of their abilities. You know that as well as anyone else."

He huffed indignantly. "Regardless, it would for the best of the army that we make more progress. It doesn't take much for the tables to turn. We hardly know the enemies' plan or where they plan on striking next."

"Yes, yes." Shuffling and the sound of a drawer opening and closing, presumably from the desk compartment at Kiran's study. "Ah, right. Here. I finished the book that you lent me earlier. It was an interesting read, though I'll admit that I wasn't so enthusiastic about receiving a book about political warfare."

"Keep it."

"Oh? You don't want it?"

"I've no need for it."

"Then you're giving it to me?

He scoffed and Palla could imagine him rolling his eyes at Kiran. "I never would have given it away if I truly wanted it. You are the one that is need of it the most if you plan on staying with the House of Askr."

Kiran chuckled. "I supposed you are right. I guess I'll be keeping this for a little while longer."

"Feh. Do what you wish. But I expect more from you. There's a war to be won."

"There are other things that are important than fighting."

"If this is just some pathetic excuse for you to slack off, then save it."

Palla had to strain her ears to hear what Kiran said next. "You know, Maria was there in the library with Nino," she murmured.

Michalis went silent. Kiran continued, "She's a bright girl. Before I was there, she was reading to Nino. They have regular meetings there, with Maria as Nino's tutor."

"Of course. Maria consistently excelled in her studies. She loves to read." His voice was full of pride but then he paused. "Or at least she used to."

"Used to?"

His voice took on a somber tone. "From what I remember. It's been... a long time since I have spoken to her."

That struck Palla as odd. Maria came to the Order much earlier than Michalis. Princess Veronica and that mysterious masked man found a way to imprison certain Heroes. In the worlds that were held captive by Emblian forces, Heroes were forced under contract to fight for the young princess. In other cases, only particular Heroes were held captive under the influence of some trance-like state, like in the case of the World of Awakening's tactician, Robin, or the World of Conquest's Crown Prince, Xander.

Prince Michalis was one such Hero. During the battle, Kiran had deployed Maria in hopes that it might bring him to his senses. Once he was defeated, he joined the Order as soon as he recognized his youngest sister. Even after his defection from Embla, Michalis was still the gruff, ambitious man that Palla always knew. Perhaps a little colder than before. Yet, despite all his threats against the Summoner, Kiran took it all in stride and it was apparent that her capabilities in leading had impressed him enough to keep him in line.

Kiran was an intriguing person to begin with. With all the heroes that they have met thus far, she always had a knowing gaze on her face whenever she was speaking to someone new. It was as if Kiran already knew about them even if it was her first time physically meeting them in person, Palla included. She never questioned it though. It was because of that knowledge that made Kiran an easy person to confide in, given enough time.

But it didn't fail to surprise Palla to see how quickly Kiran and Michalis bonded in such as short amount of time. Then much to Palla's dismay, Michalis ended up being one of Kiran's most trusted war advisors. Michalis was an apt leader, fierce and unrelenting. His leadership was grounded in subjugating his subordinates, ruling with an iron fist. The Whitewings and Minerva became very familiar with it during his reign as king.

Fortunately, he didn't have the same kind of power in Askr as he did in Macedon. The chain of command starts from the Askrian royals, Alphonse and Sharena, to Commander Anna, and then to the Summoner. Michalis held no real authority beyond the battlefield.

However, Palla kept a hand on the hilt of her sword at the ready whenever she shared the same space with him. Kiran may trust him, but Palla did not.

A man capable of backstabbing his father—literally and figuratively—for the sake of obtaining power was certainly capable of doing it again.

"Maria would be more than happy to be with you. I'm sure of it." Kiran said.

"Maria has Minerva now."

"But Minerva isn't here. You are." Kiran replied. And she had a point. Princess Minerva was yet to be summoned so Maria spent found companionship with others her age—namely the talented young mage named Nino and the shy Hoshidan Princess, Sakura.

But then again, Palla never put too much thought into it before. She never saw Maria and Michalis in the same room for any longer than necessary. Michalis seemed to actively put distance between himself and Maria as well. It was like an unspoken agreement between them; whatever the reason for it was, she seemed to respect that.

Michalis remained firm on his stance. "Maria doesn't need me."

"She's still young and you're her brother, "Kiran insisted. "Surely, you can—"

"Enough!" Michalis snarled, causing Palla to flinch. "Listen here, Summoner. What goes on between us is not any your damned business. Don't think that for a second that you hold the authority to pry into the lives of others simply because you are the tactician," he ground out, his voice sharp and acerbic.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted, the air growing tense. Kiran simply let out an exasperated sigh, seemingly unaffected by his threats. "You can't run away from her forever. Maybe if you were back in Macedon, but not here. You'll have to come to terms with it sooner than later."

Whatever Kiran meant by flew over Palla's head. Kiran seemed to be hitting all sorts of hidden sore spots that Michalis kept guarded to himself.

However, Michalis wasn't interested in pursuing the topic further. "Don't go snooping into things that don't concern you, Summoner," he warned. Palla heard the door knob turn. "Prince Alfonse intends on having another strategy meeting after the third afternoon bell. While he may allow your absences to slide, I won't abide for it. There are plenty of others in this so-called 'Order of Heroes' waiting for you to take a misstep. There are eyes watching your every move, Summoner; including myself. Take more caution if you wish to survive."

The door shut behind him and the room fell silent for a few heartbeats.

Finally, Kiran spoke up. "Okay, Palla. You may come out now."

Palla emerged from her hiding spot with nary a word. Kiran remained seated at her desk and gazed at her expectantly, gauging her reaction. Palla started uncertainly, "Kiran, um. What was that about?"

Why did you let me hear all that?

A wistful look settled on the Summoner's face, perhaps to mull over Michalis' words of parting. "When you were first summoned here, what did you think about?"

"…Honestly speaking, I was more fixated on returning back to my world rather than my being here." Thoughts about how her sisters still needed her, her Commander, how there so much more work for her to do back at home, and how could she find a way to go back. "Why do you ask?"

"I would imagine that's what must be like for all the Heroes that wind up here. Myself, included. I always wondered why someone like me chosen to come here. Was I even chosen at all, if there really was any reason to it at all." Kiran's hands fingered at the sleeves of her robes out of nervous habit.

"Kiran—"

"I know, I know," She interrupted. "But it is truly is a remarkable thing, don't you think? Even someone like me can become a part of something as astounding as leading an army! It's just... strange." She pursed her lips as if contemplating her next words. "It's just as strange and remarkable that a variety of people from different backgrounds, cultures, and lifestyles from all across time are able to gather together for a common goal. A miracle, really."

Kiran gave her a small smile. "It's thanks to this miracle that we can talk together like this as well. Our past is carried with us when we were summoned. However, it doesn't necessarily have to bind us."

Palla frowned, connecting it back to their conversation earlier. "Are you telling me that I should make peace with Prince Michalis?"

"Not if you don't want to." Kiran's eyes hardened and Palla's stomach twisted. "While our allies in the Order are technically on the same side, I understand that there are plenty among us that abide by it simply because they have no other option. Prince Alfonse and I won't go as far to enforce niceties, but we absolutely will not tolerate treason."

"You should tell that to Prince Michalis," Palla muttered, purposefully loud enough for Kiran to hear. "If anything, I'm more worried about you."

"You mean my relationship with him?"

"I understand that your intentions may mean well," Palla started, "but I would advise you not to become too close to that man. We're at war and he originally was sided with the enemy."

Kiran frowned. "You think that he might betray us?"

Think? If it happened to King Osmond, then it's certainly possible for it to happen to Kiran. "If you know of my world's history, then you should already know what he is capable of. At very least, employ more prudence around him."

Palla could see the conviction in Kiran's eyes, and then she remembered by for the briefest of moments, that the Summoner was still a child, not much older than Est. She hasn't experienced the same kind of cruelness that war brings, the same kind of harsh reality that Palla and her sisters survived through many times over. At that moment, Palla had to hold back the urge to scold Kiran for her naivety.

Instead, Palla gently took Kiran's wrists in her own hands and added, "I'm only telling you this for your own good. Just because you don't think that you won't have a knife twisted in your back doesn't mean it can't happen."

Palla held eye contact with Kiran to help ram her words home. Kiran glanced down at their joined hands, her expression pensive. "I know."

"Then promise me that you will be more careful. Please. For your own good." she insisted. Besides Michalis, there were other more questionable Heroes that wound up within the castle walls. Kiran was not only a valuable person to ending the war but also a very precious companion to many. Palla wasn't about to lose another person that she holds dear. Not again.

"...All right. If you say it like, that I guess I've no choice," Kiran conceded.

"Good." Palla let go of the breath that she didn't realize she was holding. She let go Kiran's wrists.

"Hey, Palla?"

"Yes?"

"Do... Have you any regrets? Things that you could've have done differently if you could go back in time?" Kiran asked. "Once this war is over, eventually our time here might also be completed. So, I like to think that we should cherish our time here in Askr that whatever god brought about. Because of that, I think that there are several in the Order that has plenty to gain during their experience here."

"Kiran?"

"Think about it like this: For those that lived and died with regrets, then perhaps being summoned to Askr may have its own set of benefits, hm?"

When it was time for Palla to take her leave, Kiran's words echoed in her head with every step down the dark cobblestone.

A/N: I love Michalis and his super edgy-lines. When I started a flier team with Palla and Michalis on it, I didn't think my disgusting shippy heart would actually seriously ship them together. But uh, then it happened and here this is.

Admittedly, I have never played Shadow Dragon or New Mystery so a lot of this is based on the support convos and stuff I read about the games. After learning more about SD/NM characters, I grew to really love the relationships between the Whitewing siblings and the Macedon royals. So this story will kinda be like my interpretation of several characters and their motives, namely Palla and Michalis.

This fic is loosely based on my own experience with FEH. Thought I just throw that out there too.