The sound of quiet rivers and creeks surrounded the small scouting party that sped out from the shadowy keep of Nohr's king. They rode towards a swamp that was popular with the dark mages that studied their arts under the king's auspices. Leo, a prodigious warlock and a middle child of the king's, was trapped somewhere inside.

"Why would he need to look at plants to study magic?" Corrin asked. She had no gift for the arts, outside of what power she drew from her dragonstone. The two didn't add together. But she hadn't known much— just bits and pieces of her people and the knowledge that the palace attendents had passed down to her in the outskirts fort where she had grown up. In all of her isolated existence that she could recall, Corrin had been trained by Nohr's knights to work at the service of one of the royal family's members. It had just been her lot in life that the person in question, Xander, wasn't a complete monster.

"We brew them into vulneraries and draughts. Winters here can get harsh, so we take recipes from the Ice Tribe to treat illnesses." Jakob answered, his voice settling into a snideness that she decided she didn't quite care for. He was a comfortably-raised boy, all tea parties and fine linens. "Some say that the poison in these plants can be used to coat daggers and weapons." There was an edge to his words as he stared ahead.

The young servant held a small lantern, which he shielded carefully from the rain that gently fell in the marshlands they traveled through. He rode at the forefront of the group alongside a cavalier, who spurred his horse on silently.

"Leo has a curiosity about the natural world that exceeds what is required of his magical studies," Xander explained. "But I'd have thought he'd be more careful than this, especially if he took Elise with him." He drummed his fingers on the horse's reins.

Corrin looked to him expectedly. The names meant nothing to her.

"Our sister. She trusts too easily." Xander glanced sideways as he guided his own horse, and gestured to the knights that carried Corrin and Jakob. "I never worry if she's with Leo or Camilla—"

"How many siblings do you have?" Corrin ticked off finger after finger. "I'm confused. Your father doesn't look that old," she said nonchalontly.

Even in the dim light, she could see the older boy's cheeks grow pink as he turned away. She wasn't sure why. Jakob's eyes widened in confusion as well, but settled into a knowing smirk. Were all servants as overconfident as this boy was? He irritated her.

"Many," was Xander's eventual response, terse and quick, that she received. Looking over at him and Jakob, she shrugged. Older teenagers, whether they were in an outpost or in the capitol city, were impossible to understand.

Frankly, the footman wasn't even that much older than her, but likely was privy to better gossip than a cursed, shapeshifting bodyguard was.

There was a faint clink of metal in the distance that she heard throughout the wetland, but decided to ignore. Cavaliers' armor made that noise, didn't it?

"Milord, I hear something," the cavalier carrying Jakob piped up. "It's off in that clearing." She struck the reins softly and moved ahead. Side by side, Xander and Corrin followed suit.

It wasn't early when they had departed the castle, but the copse of trees seemed to grow darker and darker. The footfalls of the small traveling party's horses quieted as well. Corrin adjusted the band in her hair from where the horse's steps had jostled it aside. She felt next for her sword.

"Halt!" Xander called, guiding his horse into the center, where a pale sliver of moonlight shone through the scattering of clouds. A few figures stood clustered there.

"Lord Brother!" A small, high-pitched voice called. "Is that you?" A short pigtailed girl that Corrin recognized than her held a glowing blue staff over a pink-armored young villager, who was unconscious and clutching her head.

"Took you long enough," grumbled a short-haired boy next to her, who wore a collar with points so sharply ironed that she suspected they served as last-resort weaponry. He cradled a plain red book under his arm, and was probably the Leo, the boy who loved to study.

She saw the hint of a smile break onto Xander's face. But in a moment, his face flashed into alertness as he reared his horse back. The steed whinnied with alarm as he sped away from the party. "Get back!" Roared the young knight to his siblings. "Something's attacking!"

He drew his sword and parried off the blow of something heavy that swung right for his head. In the darkness, Corrin saw the flash of a weapon as the longsword's blow caused the attack to glance away from Xander and his horse. She leapt from the saddle of the cavalier who she had accompanied up to that point, and saw Jakob draw out a dagger besides her.

The sound of heavy metal clinking that Corrin swore was the knights' armor had belonged to something else entirely. From the depths of nearby ponds rose four figures, hulking, green-skinned, and heavily muscled. They wore masks over their faces and swung broken iron chains the size of a human man as they slowly approached the Nohrians in the center of the grove.

Corrin felt a burst of heat fly over her shoulders as fire fizzled into existence, even within the damp air of the swamp. The impressive feat had been conjured by Leo, whose book was open in his palm. His eyes blazed with concentration as he sent the flames hurtling towards the undead creature. Xander had sent his steed charging towards another of the monsters. Jakob, falling back, hurled one of his knives while shielding the young princess and her fallen companion from harm.

It was time to show them what she could do as well. Her underhand sword strike aimed for the jaw of the nearest monster, which roared in pain as the point of the blade struck its neck. Dark blood the shade of a fresh tar pit dripped into the earth, staining Corrin's hands quite a bit as well. It staggered back as it freed itself of the weapon. A roar of pain and the stench of rotten meat filled the air around them. Somewhere behind her, Corrin heard Elise begin to cry. She watched as a cavalier sped towards the injured monster at full charge, its sword as true and sharp as an executioner's blade.

Life on the outskirts had shown her ruthlessness. The knights of Nohr's capitol had her all the more certain of it. Spell-fire and steel rang through the grove as they drove the monsters away. It was simpler for Corrin that way. Curious, she looked over her shoulder to see where Xander was. After all, the job she had been given was to protect him.

The edge of Xander's sword was struggling against the meaty arm of a Faceless. She had heard a knight use the name as he shouted directions to his compatriot, who had picked up Elise and the unconscious girl onto a horse and retreated to a far corner of the grove. Jakob had followed suit, his healing staff in tow. As she bounded towards where the Nohrian crown prince was locked in combat, she noticed a glint of steel and the too-familiar nocking noise of an arrow against a bowstring. Corrin glanced down at her sword— useless from so far away, and then at Xander, who stood to her back.

She grit her teeth, and placed her hands around her neck, feeling the lump of silken cord.

"Xander?"

He struck at the Faceless, lopping off one of its limbs, and looked back for the briefest of moments. "Yes?"

"I'll be right back." The stone glowed the familiar shade of blue that she had known, and in seconds, a clawed and horned dragon charged towards where an an eager outlaw had been lying in wait.

The ride back to the castle passed in a rush. She heard the whispers of "prophecy" and "curse" from the knights but felt only the cool balm of a healing staff passed over where one of the outlaw's arrow had grazed her shoulder.

"Scrappy little girl, isn't she?" That was likely Jakob, whose praise Corrin already knew had to be hard-earned.

"I've never seen anyone fight quite like that," Xander's voice was quiet, and she from its nearness that she was riding back on the prince's own steed. This was the second time he had shown her trust. Was it repayment, or did he really start to think the better of someone who could do what she did?

For the time being, her job was done.