Co-Author: Orichacos

How did it end up like this?

It was supposed to be a simple plan — no, an ingenious one. It couldn't fail… it didn't fail! He refused to believe that any of it was his fault. And yet it was. The rainy skies and the bodies of his fallen comrades littered the ground, like refuse left by animals of the dawn. He picked his way through their bodies, grimacing distastefully as his boots splashed in thick, muddy blood.

I… I did this. He came to realize. It was his spell that did this. He nearly let himself collapse to his knees, the amount of shame heavily weighing upon him. All around him, he could hear the cheers of Hoshidan soldiers crying in joy. They, his sworn enemies, had won. They had won because of him. Nohr had been defeated because of him.

Defeat.

It was a silly word to his ears, one that he didn't know the definition of. And… those cries of "Lord Ryoma"? Pathetic. The only true lords on this world belonged to Nohr, and Nohr only. And even then, the only names that they should've been crying were his. His as they writhed in agony as they perished like the devils they were. Gathering his courage, he turned away from the bodies and began the long march back to Nohr.

"Halt!" He heard behind him. He hadn't dared to turn around, already hearing the Hoshidan dogs pause their cheers. He knew who it was already, and only because he knew who it was did he stop his advance; he had no hope of killing this man before he himself would be cut down.

He put on his best (non-conniving) smile, and greeted the soldier. "Might you be talking to me? I think you've mistaken me for being one of them."

He spread his arms out grandly as he gestured to his fallen comrades. Keep it together. You'll get your revenge later.

Ryoma looked over him sternly. He broke into a sweat as the Samurai slowly glared at him up and down his body. Then slowly, steadily, he nodded once in what looked like approval before his expression softened. The samurai sheathed his extremely long blade with difficulty, before approaching Zola with less caution than before.

"That was your spell, correct?" General Ryoma asked him. Letting out a silent curse, the mage nervously nodded his head, too afraid of what might come out of his mouth. "Speak, mage. I asked you a question, and you will answer."

Fuck.

"Why, yes!" he straightened his back, attempting to project as much confidence as possible, "That spell was my doing, Lord Ryoma. I assume you enjoyed the… pyrotechnics?"

He dared glance once more at his surroundings. Nohrian bodies laid scorched and charred, some even melted; and what life his spell missed made itself known by the many large black splotches scarring the battlefield. He would have thrown up from the smell of burnt human were it not for the rain helping to dull the foul stench.

O powerful Dusk Dragon, may your benevolence have granted my countrymen a swift death. I promise to atone for this folly one day.

"Enjoyed? You decimated the majority of the Nohrian forces! Of course I enjoyed them!" Ryoma let out a bellow of laughter, unintentionally shaming the mage further.

"Y-Yes, of course! That was my p-plan all along!" the mage laughed as well.

He turned his head to the side, hiding his expression. Thankfully, Ryoma didn't notice it. Or he did, and chose not to make any mention of it.

We'll see who's laughing when I stick one of those sticks that chop in your eyes…, he grinned.

"You dress oddly for a Hoshidan. Why, any one of us could have mistaken you for a Nohrian, if it weren't for your actions!"

"W-Well, you see, uh… I needed to infiltrate the Nohrian ranks! Yes, that's it. This disguise made it all the easier."

"Your face also has Nohrian features, now that I think of it."

Curse this rat bastard! "I-I'm afraid it's uh… I have my father's face and my mother's Hoshidan pride. Unfortunate, but this is who I am…"

Mother, father, if you're watching me from the heavens right now, please forgive your wayward son…

Some of the Hoshidan devils began to unsheathe their blades, encircling him with bloodlust glittering in their eyes. The mage swallowed his heart back down, digging his boots further into the mud out of anxiety. The cold rain didn't help him stop shivering either.

"I see. Well, we do what we can with what we're given. I applaud your use of your Nohrian heritage anyhow."

He nodded his head rapidly. I'm gonna get away with it! I'm gonna get away with it! I'm gonn-

"Oh! Right. I was going to ask you if you would come with me back to Castle Shirasagi. I had hoped to reward your heroic actions during the battle."

Oh. Hell.

So, as his crafty brain figured out, he had two options here: either accept the devil's offer and enter the maw of the Faceless (not that Faceless really had maws), or he could… could…

...Reject the offer and get cut down by the devil.

He affixed his smile on his face once more. "Of course. I'd be… delighted to accompany you to the royal family's grav- I mean, castle. I didn't have any plans this weekend in any case."

Barring a game of chess with Master Iago, but he didn't particularly want to throw the match anyway.

"Wonderful! We'll have a feast to commemorate our first of many victories over those Nohrian bastards!" Ryoma announced for all to hear, eliciting a cacophony of cheers and hollers from the surrounding Hoshidan troops. "And our guests of honor will be my dear sister Kamui, and the mage..."

He lowered his voice to a whisper, "...What was your name again?"

"... Zola," he whispered, regret practically dripping from his voice.

"—Lord Zola! Yoshiharu, prepare a horse for him! And a sugegasa!"

The soldier — Yoshiharu, beat a fist to his chest in salute, and left the battlefield, eventually disappearing over a high hill (that was also partly destroyed by Zola's magic). Zola breathed a sigh of relief, attempting to ignore all the cheers of "Zo-la! Zo-la!" around him as Ryoma almost broke his back with his back slaps.

"You've done a great deed today, Zola. All of Hoshido will know your name!" Ryoma yelled encouragingly. "And the Nohrians shall fear it as well!"

"Hahaha… yay." Zola meekly cheered, raising a fist half-heartedly into the air.

What have I gotten myself into…?

A/N:

Incredibly Pyred: Hi! Hello. Incredibly Pyred here. We're here to present this batshit insane idea that we both thought up of. It started off with "What if Zola was the main character, and it just kinda spiraled off from there". Don't really have much to say, but if you have any questions, feel free to PM either one of us (we'll both answer the question(s) as best as we can. Unless if you're drunk PMing us at like 4:47 AM. I'm not gonna answer that). We won't be typing out Author's notes too much, so questions asked in reviews won't be answered.

Orichacos: Heyo! Glad to meet you guys! Pyred and I are pretty big fans of the FE series, and Pyred fell in love with Zola's character in Fates. This is mostly his idea, but invited me along for the ride cause why not, right? I got some ideas from Couer Al'Aran in the RWBY archive, specifically "Professor Arc"; as well as "Arc of the Revolution" by Aleadrex. Pyred, on the other hand, was inspired by Jojo and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. So I hope you guys get to enjoy this shitshow with us. I know Zola won't.

Be sure to like and subscribe! (Don't actually do that though, cuz this ain't youtube. Though if you could take a few moments to leave a review, that would be much appreciated!)